Dessert Overload

These are the desserts that I had to choose from last night at The Bubble Room. It was an excruciating elimination process and I felt like I should give the Red Velvet Cake a red rose at the end.

#harddecisions #cake #ilovedessert #ilovecake #thebubbleroom #florida #captivaisland #travel #vacation #sweettooth #dessert #dessertporn #nofilter  #dianesoave


I may have an addictive personality.  Or not.  I don’t know.  I feel like being an addict is a lot of work and I just don’t have the motivation or commitment for that.

At one point in my life (as I was going through a divorce), I was bar hopping with girlfriends, having fun and drinking.  My drink of choice was straight whiskey and I’d sip it throughout the evening.  Sometimes, just one, sometimes more than one.  I didn’t feel like I had a “problem” until someone convinced me that I did.

I went straight home, threw out every ounce of alcohol (including rubbing alcohol) and didn’t drink anything (besides water, unsweetened tea and almond milk) for years and years.  I was more committed to having a problem than actually having a problem.

Anyway, many years later, I decided to TRY drinking a strawberry daiquiri, convinced I was going to hit rock bottom.  I envisioned myself on the street corner, homeless and holding up a sign “Why lie, I want beer” Or in my case, “Why lie, I want fruity drinks decorated with umbrella’s.”

I’d also be sharing the street corner with the guy hiding in the fake bush that jumps out at tourist and scares the shit out of them.

I drank that daiquiri and developed the worst pain in my liver.  Or maybe it was my kidney?  Gallbladder?  Apparently, I should spend less time writing and sign up for an anatomy class.

Anyway, it hurt like hell and I felt incredibly sick.

Then it hit me…

I’m not an alcoholic…I’m a lightweight.

Although, I read later that woman don’t metabolize alcohol very well after 40.

I was 30.

So, bottom line:  If someone suggested that I had an addiction to chocolate and desserts, they may actually be on to something but alcohol, I can live without.

BUT…don’t even think about taking away my M&M’s.  Can you picture me in candy rehab?  Those poor counselors.  I’d be a nightmare… sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth; begging for a KitKat.

Anyway, if any of you are planning an intervention for me, make sure you bring a Reese Pie.

It’s just good etiquette.


Eating Reese pie at 4:10 am (with the only fork you could find) may mean you have a problem.