THIS ONE IS FOR
RED, OUR MARNIE. THANK YOU, MARNIE!!
Last Friday was
Yom Kippur. I was supposed to be in synagogue, pounding my bosoms and not thinking about food at all. Nope, I
wouldn’t think about chocolate or other delectably satisfying edibles, necessary to assure my survival. Nope, nah, nah ah, and heretofore not at all. I would be focused instead on deep, introspective endeavors, not luscious cheesecake topped with caramel, or chilled chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (in a sugar cone), or a singular but rather immense
raisinette screaming to be eaten. No, no. I’d engage in no such blasphemous
ideation.
However, I would ditch the temple gig. Who would know? Um, oh yeah. Well, I’d redeem myself by fasting. Maybe. See, I told me, I shall decide to fast. I’ll see if that bodes well with me. I’ll assess whether or not to make a new choice at that point. If I mess up, who will know? Oh yeah.
It would be fine. I planned some fun things, like blood tests and a mammogram, to keep me engrossed in sacred matters. Instead of pounding my boobs, I had them squished every which way between cold metal plates. I’d say that’s worth double points, in a big way.
Wouldn’t you? (If not, you haven’t seen these girls.) Instead of repenting for my sins, I had a needle stuck into my vein and watched my blood leave my body. Fun times. Fun times.
For further soul enhancing humiliation, I interviewed with a temp agency. Do you know that I scored 83 percent on a stupid
speling – er, spelling (?)- test!? Did you know that spellcheck does not approve of the word spellcheck? As I was saying, I won a spelling bee in second grade, for Christ’s (sorry, for goodness) sake! I demand a recount. (Is that how you spell recount?)
Alas, all this fun took me to 4:30pm. That’s when I reached my doorstep. I wasn't thinking about food. No, not at all. I was too weak and helpless and famished. I deserved just a nibble of something, especially since I
wasn’t thinking about food.
Ok, 5pm would be my break-fast time. I
wouldn’t wait until sundown like the good Jews. Besides, who would know I cheated a little? Oh yeah. Anyway, I could survive for 30 minutes. Right?
Did I really have to? No. Yes. No. Maybe. Who cares. It’s only half an hour. It’s a whole half an hour. I couldn’t do it. Come on. You deserve a cookie. You wimp. Wuss. Sissy girl. You’re almost there. Suck it up. Stick with it. The dialogue continued, and I opened my mailbox. This is where Marnie comes in. Out of the goodness of her heart and for no reason whatsoever, except that she sensed I like chocolate, she sent a gift. It was the perfect solution to my predicament. My taste buds would be fully sated, yet I
wouldn’t eat. Can you guess what it was? Time’s up. Now, slap your forehead with an “Of course, why
didn’t I think of that? I can't believe I made a public spectacle of myself!” expression, as I reveal the correct answer: her wonderful homemade Bianca brand chocolate lip balm (plus vanilla plus mint). I was so happy to apply chocolate to my lips and attempt to eat my lips. Aah, who said fasting isn't fun? I continued this for one full hour. (Still, they ask me why I'm single. Idiots!)
I broke my fast at 5:36pm and 42 seconds, with a bite of a banana. I gotta tell you, though, her homemade lip balm tasted better than that banana. Marnie/Red makes all kinds of things: shampoo, toothpaste, soaps, etc. You
wouldn’t know this because she never tries to sell her products on her blog. She’s amazing and humble. She’s gorgeous too. She does look like this picture of me (or someone else who does look like Marnie). Red's blog is pure fun, sweetness, and socially conscious tidbits. Thanks Marnie, for your kindhearted perfectness!