Move Over Bridget Jones…

Day 5 of the bread cleanse and I’m getting so much done!


Cartoon by the amazing Aliie Brosh

I haven’t felt this good since I was 4 and ate all of my mother’s birth control pills. (What? They looked like candy)


I even had a moment of clarity this week…

It happened on Epiphany… that little known Catholic-ish holiday that comes 12 days after Christmas when Jesus appeared to the 3 Wise Men in the desert and said…”Bitches… you need to haul ass to Bethlehem with some presents because I am moving and I have no furniture or plates… ”

Now, the word “epiphany” generally implies something positive….a revelation, a light bulb moment, or a 1970’s V8 juice commercial. In Manhattan though, most of the epiphanies I’ve witnessed are preceded by an audible groan, followed by an expletive.

My epiphany was like this:


Cartoon by the amazing Aliie Brosh

What happened was… I got an email… a simpering, whiney, needy letter from a guy friend from a million years ago, who talked about everything thing from his yellowing teeth to his irritable bowels and how much he could love me…

Reading it made my whole being feel like puckered fingers… You know, the kind you get from staying too long in the bath? It was the cringiest moment of my adult life and I’ve already had loads of them…

I have been this woman… standing in my leopard print undies in the snowy street, trying explain my actions and feelings. I mean, we’ve all done this, right? When you finally find your very own Colin Firth, you simply can’t help yourself.

Screen Shot 2015-01-08 at 9.26.20 PM

And I’ve also been this same woman–wrong costume, wrong party… all wrong. Time to de-bunny.


But in my big moment of clarity, I really saw myself these past weeks and I realized…

I had become “bowel guy” and it sucked.

I’d been doing exactly what he was doing…writing ridiculous, simpering, pathetic things–emails, texts to loads of people… ugh… When you recognize your own idiocy in the actions of others, it’s like a massive attack of dread, self-loathing and chagrin… it’s the very definition of “cringing”.

In NYC, there are so many opportunities for these bright moments, it’s a wonder anyone can leave their apartment.

Right after the shock, I wanted to hide forever, like this:


Fortunately, it was nothing a little bread couldn’t cure. So, am sticking with it.

Will have bottom the size of Brazil, but hello… the enlightenment’s worth it 🙂


Cartoons by the amazing Allie Brosh from and the book: Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things that Happened… 

One comment

  1. Jacqueline SaintAnne · January 9, 2015

    Good ‘un

    Jacqueline Saint Anne Typo leniency requested



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