So I had a moment with Girl Scout Cookies recently.  By moment I mean…a friend of mine back home in Arkansas was selling them for her daughter.  So what.  Everybody is selling Girl Scout Cookies.  Well, my moment consisted of typing these words:  I’ll take a case  of Samoas.

A case, y’all.  That’s like 24 boxes, I think?  A case.  I couldn’t just be a normal person and say, “I’d like 3 boxes.”  No.  I’ll go ahead and have my waist line commit suicide and take as many cookies as I can get in one easy to manage giant box.  I know what you’re thinking.  Give them away.  Sell them.  Put them in the freezer.  What I’m saying is…I don’t share Girl Scout Cookies, selling them would be like having a baby and then leaving it on someone’s door step and putting cookies in a freezer is wrong because cookies don’t wear coats.  I love Samoas.  They are my favorite cookie.  So, whatever, y’all.  Tikkun Olam.

And then they attacked me.  One day after I ordered the cookies I actually had 2 boxes of them for dinner.  I had a box for breakfast.  I ate a couple of boxes of Samoas while watching GIRLS.  I was spiraling out of control.  Cookies for breakfast.  Cookies for a mid morning snack.  Cookies in the car.  I was a mess.  I noticed that my cute little corduroy pants weren’t fitting so well.  I kinda freaked. 

Then I went into “captain of the Titanic mode.”  What’s that you say?  That’s when you see that a giant ship is going down and you grab your tiny little bucket and start scooping water and throwing it over the side of the boat.  That consists of me trying to cut sugar out of my life, refusing soda, trying to cook things that are good for me and making better choices if I go to restaurants.  We’ll see what happens.  At least maybe I’ll feel better, like I’m doing something for myself.  Let’s hope I wake up 20 pounds lighter.

Anywho, one of the things I’m trying to do is to cook whole foods that I’ve never tried before.  This week I went to the store and got my usual Tilapia fillets.  I wanted to pick a vegetable to go with them that I’d not cooked in it’s natural form, that is…I wanted to cook something that didn’t come from a can.  After staring at the produce for about 10 minutes, I decided to go with Beets.  That seemed like a pretty easy choice.  I googled “Ina Garten Beet Recipe” and decided I was up for the challenge.

So, I got the beets, I followed the directions, I cooked them.  Easy.  Wonderful.  So delicious.  They were really wonderful.  Food that doesn’t come from a can really does taste better.  It feels like you’re a magician.  So amazing.

Then?  The beets hit my system.  Now, maybe I should zip it so that you experience this on your own someday, but I’m not very good at keeping my mouth shut.  All food that isn’t in your produce section clearly goes through some sort of a process.  Even canned veggies.  I have eaten beats several times.  I love them.  I’ve added a little balsamic to them and tossed them with blue cheese.  I’ve eaten them right out of a can.  They’re delicious and good for you.  BUT.  I had never made them myself right from the produce section.

The morning after roasting the beets I got up to go to the bathroom as usual.  YOU GUYS.  I had the most gorgeous fuchsia urine the world has ever seen.  It took me a minute to get to appreciating it though.  When I first saw it I was sure that I was dying.  I stared into the toilet wondering what awful disease the Girl Scout Cookies had given me.  Then I realized what was going on.  It was the beets.  Later on my way to work I get this text message from my husband, “I have purple pee and poop, disturbing yet beautiful…”

So…consider yourself warned.

WHAT