Six Until Me.

Recently, I discussed my desire to kick the caffeine habit.  I waxed on for way too many words about how I was going to leave the chaos of caffeine behind and start this new, clean life of staying awake and alert without the assistance of my favorite coffee or tea indulgence.  And I sighed this big, self-righteous sigh and picked up a box of decaffeinated tea from Whole Foods, convinced I was going to heal thyself.

What a frickin' liar I am. 

Instead of sticking to my well-intentioned guns, I'm so far off the "no caffeine" wagon that it's ridiculous.  The wagon is waaaay ahead of me, leaving me here in the dust, coffee cup clutched in my little bride-to-be hands.  Over the past two weeks, I've reinstituted coffee into my daily diet.  Granted, I'm sticking to the meal plan I had established (minus a few moments of weakness, which included a piece of chocolate Guinness Cake on St. Patrick's Day, a few beers, and three Almond Hershey Kisses from my co-worker's stash), but I couldn't hold steady on my mission for no caffeine. 

I can't even say that I'm trying.  Today alone has been a jittery nightmare:  a small coffee right when I got to work, a large Earl Gray tea from the diner downstairs at mid-morning, and a large iced coffee after lunch.  Yesterday was only slightly more acceptable.  I love the ritual of coffee, chatting with co-workers around the machine in the morning.  I love the social jaunts down to the diner with my office mates, talking with the waitress downstairs as we get our respective caffeine fixes.  I love my stupid coffee mug and the cheap mug warmer that I bought at the dollar store. 

But I am addicted not only to the routine - no, that would be too easy.  I'm also hooked on the actual coffee buzz.  I love that feeling of controlled pandemonium that a good cup of coffee brings to my busy work day.  It's totally sadistic, but I like the edge of panic a java boost gives to my to do list.  With the list of crap to do being ridiculously overwhelming lately (thank you, wedding and worky bits), I feel like I want need the helping hand of coffee. 

I know my weaknesses:  Chris.  My foolish cat critters.  The need to laugh at fart jokes.  Anything related to writing.  And coffee.  Hey, I'm woman enough to admit my weaknesses.  I can't stop drinking this crap, not at this tender stage in the game. It's part of the fabric, and I'm all woven up in it. 

I know I'm not the only one who is addicted.  But I know people have cut caffeine out of their lives completely, too.  After the wedding, I'll give it another go.  For now, I need a refill.   

Posted by Kerri. at 04:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

Over the past two months, I've been slacking - big time.  I've been indulging in desserts on the weekends.  I've been going away with Chris and enjoying decadent dinners at French restaurants and sipping cappuccinos every chance I had.  Work has been extremely busy and I've been putting in plenty of hours.  Freelance projects have included some late nights to meet deadlines and some trips into the city for different events, so I've only been able to get four workouts in per week. 

And I've seen a bit of a flux in my body - nothing noticeable on a scale but I don't feel as strong as I did a few weeks ago and I feel a little sloppier.

No more of this namby-pamby crap "I'll do my best and see what happens."  Change needs to be made and I just need to plain make it.

So, with the guidance of my fitness-freak fiance and armed with enough information to safely manage any diabetes disaster, I'm starting a whole new regimen.  I will roll with this until my wedding date, after which time I will be on my honeymoon, happily married, and not plagued by the white dress stress.

My plan is to take a standard approach to every day, eating almost exactly the same thing daily and following as much of a schedule as possible.  I know that when I eat similar items, I see similar blood sugar responses.  I'm hoping that a more finely-tuned diet will eliminate blood sugar fluctations and help me keep better tabs on what I'm eating.  (Because those almond Hershey kisses on my co-worker's desk are delicious and I keep snaking them throughout the day.  No more of that for the next two and a half months.)

I'm going to try to follow this meal plan at least Monday - Friday:

8:30 am:  Oatmeal and walnuts, with my morning cup of tea.

10:00 am:   Yogurt.

Lunch:  Salad of baby spinach with baked chicken, cherry tomatoes, and portabella mushrooms with balsamic vinagrette dressing.

2:30 pm:  Apple and peanut butter.

5:00 pm:  Breakstone cottage cheese double.  (These things are delicious.)   

Dinner:  Eggs, or soup, or chicken and that zippy white bean salad, or something else healthy along those lines.

Bedtime snack:   Light, low-carb snack, like nuts or a cheese stick

As far as the workout goes, I'm changing things a little, but not completely.  Generally, I'm at the gym Monday - Friday and doing 15 minutes of weight training, then a 30 minute cardiovascular workout.  I'm doing a variety of weight exercises (like tricep dips, push-ups, box jumps, jumping rope, lunges, I'm exhausted just writing this stuff, ab exercises, etc.) and doing 2 minutes walking - 10 minutes running as my cardio workout. 

Re-reading this, it sounds so regimented.  BORING.  But I've worked very hard over the last few years to change my body and I'm so hopeful that this new routine brings me to a new level of fitness and diabetes health overall, making me ready for my walk down the aisle. 

Because I tried on my wedding gown again this weekend and it fits like a glove.  A glove without much room for weight gain. 

No more nervous nibbling - it's time to buckle down and make this work. Let the sweating begin!

Posted by Kerri. at 02:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

It's not often that I have the chance to use the "Food" category on this blog.  I'm a bit of a cooking disaster (known for such dishes as "Ew!" and "Is it supposed to hurt?")  But I've thrown together something that I thought was tasty.  And it is low-carb.  AND it doesn't taste like garbage. 

Yes, I was shocked, too!

I have found that eating low-carb makes blood sugar management a little easier.  Not having the spikey bits after meals keeps my numbers more in range and less "riddled with chaos."  However, I like bread.  And pasta.  And that whole "feeling full" thing. 

Turns out a good dose of fiber gives me that full feeling without sending my blood sugars straight into orbit.  I had a really tasty white bean salad dish at a restaurant the other night, and dared myself to recreate it last night at home.  While it wasn't exactly the same, it was still tasty.  I put in too many red onion bits, so it has some serious zip to it, but it tasted good and didn't tease me towards the 200's. 

Kerri's Seriously Zippy White Bean Salad 

• 2 cans of white cannelini beans, rinsed
• 1/4 red onion, minced
• 10 slices of pepperoni, chopped
• 1/2 cucumber, chopped
• 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
• salt
• pepper
• lemon juice

It's this simple:  Add all the ingredients to a mid-sized sedan (just kidding - use a bowl),  mix together, and add salt, pepper, and lemon juice to taste.  Eat with mouth.  Beware of hot onions.

A simple recipe goes a long way for a culinarily-challenged blogger like myself.  :) 

SUM Tags: diabetes, cooking, white bean salad, zippy

Posted by Kerri. at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I looked into the bottom of my purse and saw the Cliff bar and a pack of gum.  "46 grams of carbohydrate."

I poured a cup of coffee this morning and added a little cream and Equal.  As I stirred the contents of the cup and chatted with co-workers, I thought "0.2u of insulin for the 2 grams of carbohydrate."  I eye-balled the bagels being offered up and watched as one morphed into a whole-wheat "8" and another into a sesame-seed covered "0."  80 grams of carbs.

The kiwi fruit, sliced and captured in a tupperware container, looked ripe and grass-green through the plastic window.  It would be a delicious morning snack.  Ten grams of carbs.

Nineteen carbs in that yogurt, five grams in a fistful of almonds, fifteen in that slice of whole-grain toast.  Convert how many units of insulin that I need to cover X amount of carbs.  Base these values on previously calculated insulin-to-carbohydrate ratios.  Make sure you take recent and future activity levels into account, in addition to factoring in some cushion time for the insulin to work.

It's a lot of math for this intrinsic English major to handle.  If I keep my brain tuned into the numbers only, I'm admittedly rattled and overwhelmed. 

Instead, I picture the culinary world as one, big paint-by-numbers picture.  Carbohydrate content calls out a value and insulin is my paint.  Some days the portraits are just breath taking, a sea of yellows and blues and a smattering of greens, blending together and keeping my blood sugar numbers from spiraling out of range. 

It's tough to keep my hand steady some days, especially now with all the holiday treats on every countertop, but I'm doing my best to stay within the lines.

Posted by Kerri. at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

I spent the majority of yesterday beneath a mountain of blankets on the couch, anchored on either side by a fluffy cat.  Miserable and sick, yet capable of impressive levels of boredom, I watched daytime TV until my brain started to melt a little bit.

Itching to alleviate the boredom, I gathered myself together and exhibited my only smidge of culinary prowess:  cooking soup.

I'm not exactly known for my skills in the kitchen.  I can make a delicious breakfast, a bang-up cup of tea, and the occasional salad excursion.  But my true (and only) talent lies in the soup pot.  I make a tasty soup.  Using a book I had picked up at The Strand bookstore in NYC - Soup for Every Body.  Boasting a selection of low-carb and high-protein soups, complete with illustrations, this book was perfect for Chris and I and our picky little eating habits.

And it was only six bucks.  Good deal, this.  AND the soup ended up being delicious.  Chris claimed it's "restaurant quality."  Let me assure you, this is not a compliment often offered up, so I did a little sicky-jig of happiness.

I've been thinking about eating habits a lot lately, especially with the holidays coming and my will power on a bit of a hiatus.  As I wrote in my dLife column this month, the whole "special occasion" caveat during the holidays is tricky for me.  With so many parties and events, it's easy for me to succumb to "Oh, just this one time," and have that piece of cake/glass of wine/forkful of creme brulee.   Next thing I know, I'm indulging at every turn and my jeans don't fit as well as they did a month ago.

Never one to react to a problem, I'm trying to take a more proactive approach to this holiday season.  Enter:  Operation WillPower.  (Similar to Operation Thwart.)  Now that I'm two days into the antibiotics for strep and well on my way to being fully mended, I need to take control of my eating habits and get my act together. 

Back to heavy workouts.  Back to low-carb meals.  Back to paying attention to all the bits and pieces of diabetes management and readying my body for that wedding dress.  (Which, by the way, is being delivered in January and I'll be having my first fittings.  In less than two months.  Holy crap.)

So long, delicious treats!  I miss you already. 

Commence Operation WP.

Posted by Kerri. at 02:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

There was Fondue Night with my college roommates, dipping whatever we could find into cheese and then chocolate fondue (no, not at the same time), drinking wine, and gossiping like fools.

There was Thanksgiving with friends and family, spending time with our closest loved ones.

We had a delicious dinner at The Cheesecake Factory in the city and then explored Providence with the new camera, snapping shots of the Statehouse and the cityscape from an empty park at midnight.

A visit to my mother's house brought us on an impromptu hike through the woods and snapping pictures at the shore of the lake.

The loooo-ong drive back down 95, back to our home and back to work this week.  We're sleepy, inundated with emails, and toting suitcases crammed with half-folded laundry.

And even though they were all puffy-tailed, bored, and mewing when we came back home tonight, the cats survived.

Posted by Kerri. at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I am a Country Mouse.  It's an undisputed fact. 

I find considerable joy on the almost-desolate beaches of Napatree Point in my hometown.  I like hiking.  I loved the trails in St. John and the question of "Has anyone been this way before me?"  The idea of my own personal greenhouse or garden makes me grin.   

So finding such excitement and possibility in the cityscape of NYC is a completely new thing for me.

Last night, Chris and I visited Brooklyn and dined out with Chris's friend from high school, MT, and his fiance Melissa.  Their neighborhood is very cool and had a tangible sense of community.  There was something so comforting about the streets lined with what looked like Boston brownstones, neatly wedged together like books in a shelf.  Their apartment was roomy and cozy and was the first piece of livable real estate I've had the pleasure of visiting in the NYC area (as opposed to the breadbox apartments with cubbyholes renamed as second bedrooms and a kitchen not nearly big enough for my poor fat cat Abby to slide into). 

We had dinner at this terrific French place in Park Slope called Moutarde.  Chris and I have both grown up in decidedly Italian households, with pasta dinners and homemade gravy.  But after our second French meal in a week (first at Les Halles), Chris is now a self-proclaimed Francophile.  Chris had the salmon and I had the hanger steak and green beans -- and yes, we dipped into the crème brulée again. 

For the record, I started this meal at a tenuous 73 mg/dl, but thanks to some bread and a quick swig of orange juice, I hit the ground running at 157 mg/dl.  I would have remained under 180 if it hadn't been for that blasted crème brulée, which tossed me up to 212 mg/dl before a soft landing at 98 mg/dl later in the evening.   

Generally, I have my meal plan under control and I'm able to deftly avoid temptations.  (I've even trained myself to substitute green beans for potatoes, which is remarkable considering how much I'd love potatoes.)  But something about going out to dinner makes resistance tougher for me. 

Dessert?  Sure, I'll have some of that deliciously creamy, sugar-filled concoction.  Twice.  In one week.  In my foolish mind, being "out to dinner" means that it's a special occassion and it's okay to splurge.  But with the frequency we've been dining out and the holidays looming like fat pants on the horizon, I need to be more mindful of the calories I'm reeling in.  And with my Joslin appointment right after Thanksgiving, it's important that I'm on the ball.

Mmmm.  It would be great if the whole ball was made of crème brulée.  

(Apparently I'm a Country Mouse with a newly-cultivated sweet tooth.)

Posted by Kerri. at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

Food.

My whole life revolves around it.  Between testing, calculating, bolusing, and making general attempts at healthy eating, food is an enormous part of my diabetes management plan. 

Ah, food.

For some reason, we found ourselves at the grocery store at 10 o'clock at night yesterday.  (Actually, not for "some reason."  The reason was that there was nothing but salad dressing and three month stale croutons in the house to munch on.)  

In pursuit of ingredients for a minestrone soup I'm making (stop laughing - I can cook a little bit), I noticed the contents of our cart.  Vegetables, fruits, almonds, and whole-grain breads.  Once upon a time, I would have missed the potatoes,  rice, and popsicles (I would kill a man for Sherbet Cyclones ... those things are just darn delicious), but these days my tastebuds are geared more in favor of the diabetes-friendly and just generally healthy fare.

Gazing into the cart, I see the food choices of a woman who is finally thinking of her meals as they relate to her blood sugars.  But I'm admittedly a reluctant healthy eater.  I would love nothing more than cheesecake for dinner every night.  Cheesecake with a side of macaroni and cheese - not the white, Annie's kind but the real-deal biohazard orange kind - and a cup of piping hot chai tea latte, too.  Sugar, sugar, carbs, carbs.  I would love that.  Ice cream every morning, tapioca pudding with whipped cream every night.  My inner-glutton wants to mobilize but my brain interjects with thoughts of low A1C's, wedding dresses, and my future children. 

So we shop healthy, my fiance and I.  Indulgences find their way of slipping into the cart (how did those granola bars get in there?) but overall, we aim to eat low-carb and organic whenever possible.  Sounds bo-ring but is oddly satisfying and tasty.

Healthy meals are important for all sorts of living creatures.  Like dogs.  Apparently they have their own healthy breakfast cereal ... ahem, pardon me, "barkfast" cereal.  I had to snap a picture.  So ridiculous.  And I was laughing all night about it.  Silliness, right?

But upon Googling the brand name this morning, I see that diabetic doggies are benefitting from the Bow Wow Brands.  I blog corrected.  (Yet the image of a dog family sitting down for breakfast - pearls and all! - makes me laugh until I cry a little bit.) 

Healthy food for all!  (Even dogs.)

Posted by Kerri. at 02:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

There are several reasons why Chris loves me, but my ability to cook is definitely not high on my list of assets.

I know how to eat well.  In a restaurant situation, I can order a meal that satisfies my taste buds, contains healthy ingredients, and keeps my blood sugars from orbiting.  When it comes to food, I know what I should be consuming to stay fit and healthy and I keep careful tabs on what I'm eating.

Unfortunately, none of those items should be burnt to a crisp.

My kitchen is generally very clean because I don't cook much.  My culinary prowess is very limited, including scrambled eggs, homemade chicken soup, preparing and seasoning a whole chicken, and banana bread.  According to Chris, I make the best scrambled eggs ever.  And my chicken soup is pretty slammin'.  But everything else I cook becomes an unrecognizable disaster.  I'm too distracted to cook anything!

This becomes a point of contention between me and Diabetes, because Diabetes is always demanding these carefully calculated and prepared plates. 

"Make me something healthy.  And low-fat.  And low-sodium.  Oh, and low-carb."  It crosses its arms over its chest and stares me down.

"Dude, listen.  I bought you those green beans for snacks.  And walnuts.  We have our coffee with equal instead of sugar.  Didn't you like those sugar-free, all natural popsicles Chris picked up?  And how about the tasty soup I made the other night, which we only needed about 1.5 units of insulin to cover.  Huh?  Wasn't that nice?"  I fold my arms over my chest and stare back.

"Nice?  Kerri, that soup had about eight pounds of salt in it."

"Yeah, but it tasted nice, right?"

Narrowed eyes.

"I'm trying, man.  My blood pressure is under control.  My kidneys are healthy.  And my A1C is nothing to sneeze at."  Siah walks by and sneezes daintily.  "Things are okay.  Can't you just be content with the eggs and the soup and the chicken?"

"I'm bored.  Make me something nice."

I try and keep my palette entertained.  Alternating between snacks like walnuts, almonds, fresh fruit, green beans, protein bars, and sliced vegetables, I'm eating well and feeling pretty damn healthy.  But I am a little bored and looking for some snacky/meal alternatives.  Ones that I am able to make without too much effort or time, as I'm so short on time these days it's suffocating, and I'm so short on kitchen talent that I'm surprised I'm still alive.

I did, after all, light the kitchen curtains on fire when I was a kid as I attempted to make toast. 

Posted by Kerri. at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

You know you're hungry when:

1.  You're inserted html break tags into web documents and instead of "<br>" you're typing "<brie>".

2.  The Bacons newswire is making you salivate and wish you had some scrambled eggs to go with it.

3.  You test your blood sugar twice to confirm that you're not low - you're just feeling ravenous, even though you could have sworn you were 40 mg/dl.

4.  The packet of Banana Bread oatmeal that's been tucked away in my desk drawer since, oh, when I started working here in June of 2006, is starting to seem like a delicious idea.

5.  For some odd reason, the exhaust from the buses outside the office this morning smelled a little bit like a breakfast diner.

6.  You want to chomp around your office like PacMan and eat everything you can find.

When I was on shots, I ate more regularly.  Pumping allows me to go waaaaay too long without eating.  A few times, I've actually thought my hunger was a disasterous low. 

I can't wait to go away this weekend and regain a normal, human schedule.

Posted by Kerri. at 04:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Work has been INSANE.  Insane in that way that keeps you busy all day long, all night long, and has you dreaming about things that you need to do the next day.  Or even dreaming that you're accomplishing certain work tasks, making you startled when you arrive to work the next day and realize that you didn't actually write the column, but instead just dreamt about writing it.

Ahhhhhhhhh!

And this level of Ahhhhhhh! warrants a chocolate fix. 

So I wandered over to the dLife chocolate stash (usually cleaned out by interns, but since they are all back to college, there are finally some tasty morsels for the rest of us).  I reached into the bag and pulled out a Hershey Kiss. 

Walked back to my desk.  Poked my head into my boss's office to touch base on something briefly.  Back at my desk, I was about to unwrap the Kiss.  No, I wasn't low.  I just wanted some damn chocolate.  I didn't feel guilty or anything. 

Until I noticed:

Sigh. 

What kind of sadistic bastards are working at the Hershey factory?  And why are they taunting me?

(Also, there's a new Generation D up over at dLife.  It's all about whittling it down to a more manageable size.)

Posted by Kerri. at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I should have packed more food.  What was I thinking, bringing lunch only?  Oh man, am I hungry.

Internal Motivational Speaker:  Kerri, Kerri.  You have a delicious spread of portabella chicken and spinach for lunch, complete with a drizzled bit of balsamic dressing.  Can't you just have your lunch early?

Stomach:  Give it up, Speaker.  It's snack time.  Snack time never includes healthy.  Snack time is ravenous.  Kerri, go downstairs and get a peppermint patty from the diner.

But I don't even like peppermint patties.  I want a Nutrigrain bar.

Stomach:  I don't care if you like it or not.  It's almost ten-thirty.  You've given me nothing but coffee.  Rocco doesn't like coffee, Kerri.

Growling from the pits of my stomach.  The chain rattles and I can hear him breathing heavily, scraping his paws along the floor. 

Internal Motivational Speaker:  (panicked squeal) Oh, hi Rocco!  I see you have a new chain.  That's a lovely new chain.  (nervous laugh)  Have you done something different with your fur? 

Rocco growls and leans against his chain, the links straining against one another.

Stomach:  Easy there, Rock.  It's cool, buddy.  Kerri is going to go downstairs and grab you a blueberry Nutrigrain bar.  You like those, don'tcha? 

Rocco puffs out his bear breath and plunks down on his haunches, waiting.  My stomach lurches a bit.  I need something to eat.  I get up from my desk chair and grab a dollar from my wallet.  Rocco starts to purr, as much as a bear can.

Internal Motivational Speaker:  Oh no.  No, no Miss Kerri.  Nutrigrain bars have high fructose corn syrup in them.  Not to mention almost 25 grams of carbohydrates.  You have that package of almonds in your drawer.  Why not snack on those?  Do you really need a high-carb indulgence right now?  I mean ...

Stomach:  Lady, do you ever take a breath?  Let the girl have her Nutrigrain bar.  It's not like she's going to have a side of soft-serve ice cream with it.

Internal Motivational Speaker:  I am sick and tired of you bossing me around!  I don't care that you have your fancy pepsinogen and that Pyloric sphincter.  (her voice crescendos to a vehement peak)  You aren't the boss of me.  I have every right to my opinions! 

Stomach:  All you do is nag!  Eat this, don't eat this.  Spend all that money on organic foods.  Don't drink too much caffiene.  Make sure you test.  Make sure you bolus.  Christ, can't she have a break? 

Internal Motivational Speaker:  No!  This is full time!  Twenty-four hours a day.  I work long hours, you know, Stomach.  Some of us don't have the luxury of taking our time to digest! 

Rocco looks at me with pleading eyes.  "Growl, growl."  I know, Rocco.  I'm starving.  Let's go downstairs and get a snack while they're arguing. 

Stomach:  Do you ever stop?

Internal Motivational Speaker:  Does your mom ever stop?

Stomach:  Don't you be bringing my mom into this!

Dollar clutched in my hand and leading Rocco by his chain, we sneak out.  A few minutes later, I'm bolusing for the 25 grams of carbohydrate and Rocco is licking blueberry Nutrigrain crumbs off his paws. 

Posted by Kerri. at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Standard discussion between my mother and I when I was about nine years old.

"Ma, can I have this twix bar?"

"No, Kerri.  Let's save it for when you're low."

This logic always sucked, as far as I was concerned.  When I'm low, I can't enjoy anything I'm eating.  Saving the "good snacks" for a low sounded like a waste.  Usually, I'm sucking down a can of juice or munching on something laced with sugar, but not tasting it.  Panic eating.  My tastebuds are in time-out when I'm rocking a low blood sugar.  They're in bed with the comforter pulled up to their tastebuddie ears, pretending they can't hear the Twix bar knocking at the door.

"Let me in!  I taste good!"

Now that I'm older, I don't bother "saving treats" for when I'm low.  That's akin to tossing them into a kiln.  I'd rather treat with bland tasting juices and save that Twix bar for when I can actually enjoy the taste.

Yesterday, at the diner near my office, I went in for an iced hazelnut coffee and became distracted by a candy display on the counter.

"Oh, I've seen those before.  My son has had them.  He loves them."  My co-worker nodded approvingly.  I grew up with Nerds candies and Fun Dip - what is this Lightning Bugs Gummy Candy?  (Made by Kandy Kastle, Inc, the company formerly known as Kan't Spell, Ink.) 

Oooh!  Magic tongs are included!

Apparently, this candy comes with like seventeen gummy worm things and a pair of purple plastic tongs that light up.  Therefore, grabbing the gummy wormy thing with the "magic tongs" creates a lightning bug effect.  Therefore making the candy tremendously creepy to eat and difficult to mentally grasp, but tremendously cool at the same time.

Therefore, I had to buy it.

Packing 31g of carbs for the whole package, this diner-sponsored treat wasn't much to taste.  The gummy worms were a diasppointment and they felt oddly squishy.  Little sugar slugs.

But they did light up. 

And I proceeded to light them all up, eat a few, and toss the rest in the garbage.  I then proceeded to test the "magic tongs" on other things in my office, including the English ivy, a loose test strip, and my fingertip.

"Phone home,"  I whispered.   Was food ever this fun and pointless when I was a little kid?  Can this candy even be loosely classified as "food?"

Overall, Lightning Bugs Gummy Candy gets Two Arbitrary Lazy Sausages out of Five. 

Posted by Kerri. at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)