Nothing Says Love Like a Chocolate Boob

Do you ever come across an idea and think, “Oh, my gosh, this is SO awesome!” and “Why didn’t I think of that?” Yea, but, then it doesn’t turn out so awesome (and, you’re kinda glad it wasn’t your idea?). I had one of those things happen today. I don’t know where I got the idea, so sorry that I can’t give proper credit. It was either in a long-distance relationship ideas article or maybe a romantic ideas article. Anyway, it struck me as super cool so I jotted it down. It said, “Mold a chocolate body part.” I’m thinking, chocolate and boob. Wow! Doesn’t get much better than that! You would think.

So, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. Five Eleven still lives 2400 miles away and we can’t be together. A blizzard is bearing down on us here in New England. If I’m going to get this out in time for her to get it by the 14^th, it needs to be in the mail today.

After barely sleeping because of a headache, I grab a cup of coffee and take a quick shower. After all, if I’m going to put chocolate on my boob for her consumption, it should be a clean boob.

Maybe I should Google how to do this? No. Can’t be that hard. I went to art school. Melt some chocolate. Don’t make it so hot that I burn my nipple off. Slather it on fairly thick. Let it harden. Pop it off. Wrap it up. Voila! Valentine’s Day gift is ready to mail.

If only chocolate boobs were that easy. I’m afraid to say that is not how my chocolate boob adventure went. It started off like that…somewhat.

So, here I am wearing jeans and a zip up sweatshirt, fresh out of the shower. It’s too cold to be totally topless. I melt some nice 60% Ghiradelli chips down; add a touch of Grand Marnier…ready to go. I get a towel and some paper towels because I know me. Grace is not my middle name. Made a note to grab a hand mirror but forgot to. Lay down on the couch, bare my right breast and spoon on some warm chocolate. Hope I have the edges looking good. Can’t see because I forgot the mirror. Nice.

The fateful ingredients.

Flip on one of those morning shows that I never watch figuring it’ll only take a few minutes. Touch the edge. Still liquidy. Lick my finger. Hmm… Try to sip my coffee. I am not in a comfortable position. Hope this doesn’t take too long.

Test it again. Not even close. Lick my fingers. I shift to get more comfortable. The inside of the sweatshirt now has chocolate on it. The sun starts shining in through the window directly on my breast. Well, that balmy stream won’t help it. The furnace is running non-stop, too, since I turned it on. Should have left it at the 53 degrees like it was in here when I woke up. So, I carefully get up, turn the furnace down and reposition out of the sun. Of course, I get more chocolate on my fingers. Lick it off.

A half hour of morning show dribble goes by. Touch the chocolate. Dang! Not even close to solidifying. Lick my finger. It must be too warm in here along with my warm body temperature. So, I go to my side door, crouch down and open it up. I’m hoping the air that can now seep in around the ill-fitting storm door is cool enough to harden my chocolate boob. As I’m crouched on the floor, I can see movement at my neighbor’s. Oh my god, I think they can totally see me! They see everything I do anyway. No, wait, the window is fogging up. I’m good. Why is there so much glass on this storm door? I lean back against the inside door hoping to blend in, just in case.

The cool air comes in. Nothing is happening. So, I lift the storm window to let more cool air in. Did I mention that it’s 18 degrees out? Yes. One. Eight. So, now, my other nipple is totally erect and the chocolate is not getting any harder. Somehow, I manage to bump it with half my hand. I lick it off.

Okay, now I’m desperate. I need to get really cold. I grab the key to the shed. Cover the non-chocolate boob, hold my sweatshirt out like a wing to shield the chocolate boob so I don’t freak out my neighbors and I make a dash for the shed.

I close the door behind me. I can see my breath. It’s freaking cold in here. I start shivering. I can see goose bumps all over my stomach and chest. Both my nipples can now cut glass. The right one will drill itself out of its chocolate sheath if this takes too long. I test the chocolate. What the heck?! Lick my finger. I’ll bend over. Maybe if my boob is hanging away from my body, it’ll finally harden. So there I am. Bent over two Ziploc baggies full of smelly shells from beach walks and a five gallon tank of gas. Wow. This is a romantic gift in the making.

Hey, my boob looks like it’ll be a good shape though. Perky and round. I’m starting to feel hypothermic. I test the chocolate. Barely firm but I swear I feel it pulling away from my skin. It must be time. Maybe, just maybe it’ll work? I try to pop off my chocolate boob.

The chocolate in the bowl hardened up just fine.

Instead of a nice chocolate cup that I was envisioning (ooh, to fill with ice cream?), I get a handful of thick, mushy chocolate. I jam it into my mouth. Scrape off another handful. This is breakfast. Way past breakfast time. I wipe my hands off on some of those manly blue paper towels I keep in the shed, pull my sweatshirt closed and run back into the house.

Strip off the sweatshirt and jeans and jump in the shower. Again. Sadly, the rest of the chocolate boob goes down the drain. I still had to go to the post office to mail other things. Just not a chocolate boob. So, sorry, Five Eleven. You’ll be getting a nice Valentine’s Day card from me anyway. But, wait. Did I mention that I took pictures of this whole adventure? Just for you. Nothing says love like pictures of a chocolate boob.

@Ybbeige

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www.barbarabeige.com
Unexpectations on Kindle

Half the Fun

Okay, so I know I’ve been a fruit loop lately and I don’t always remember things, but I do remember chocolate. Chocolate in the form of candy bars in particular. You know, those fun-sized Halloween candy bars that have been out in the stores since like the end of August? Yea. Those.

I had the sudden realization a few days ago that it’s now October and Halloween is just weeks away (yea, that’s how my life has been lately). Time to stock up. Especially when you see the bags of candy two for $5.00. (I’ve had about 60 some trick-or-treaters the last few years in my neighborhood and several bags are needed so that’s a good deal).

So, when you have Halloween candy, you have to eat Halloween candy. I’ve never followed the rule to buy what you don’t like because you won’t eat it. First off, there isn’t much in the chocolate world that I don’t like. So, that’s hard. Then, if you buy non-chocolate, most of the kids grumble at that. And, what am I going to do with 80 Dum Dum lollipops left over? I don’t even think the squirrels would eat them. So, I buy what I like. Mallo Cups, Twix, Junior Mints, Kit Kats, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Snickers.

Have you had a fun-sized candy bar recently? I was horrified when I opened a Snickers one for the first time this year. Horrified, I say. Where was it? Where was the fun? Was that Twix-skinny bar really a Snickers? They used to be at least twice as big when I was a kid. I think they were twice as big even a few years ago.

Hungry? You'll have to eat about twelve of these.

Research on the web showed other people noticing the same diminishing confections. But, I couldn’t find any substantial weights or measures to prove it. At the rate that I swear they are getting smaller, by 2013, they’ll be the size of Chiclets. And, by 2015, they’ll be the size of a Tic Tac.

Eight is a total score in the Junior Mints fun-sized world.

So, isn’t this interesting? In this world of food portions getting bigger and super-sized meals available everywhere, our delicious treats are micro-sizing. Why? Because they aren’t good for you? And, your fatty fast food-almost daily meal is? Maybe we should fun-size that? If more people practiced healthier eating habits throughout the year, a few weeks of consuming fun-sized sweets wouldn’t kill anyone. But, our blood boiling over their tiny down-sizing just might!

What do you think of the size of fun-sized candy bars? Do you buy them? Do you eat them? Have you noticed any changes?

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com

The Sensuality of Chocolate aka Your Cocoa Mistress

I woke up thinking about chocolate. Actually, I went to bed thinking about chocolate. And, how I wanted a piece but I had just brushed my teeth and was too tired to do it a second time. I wasn’t thinking about any old candy bar, but a piece of smooth, dark chocolate. The kind that just melts in your mouth and coats every taste bud with a rich sensuality. Sexy chocolate.

Bliss and Andes. Sexy dark or sexy mint.

I think as I’ve gotten older, I look at chocolate differently. As kids, when we got a chance to eat candy or chocolate, we’d eat it like we may never be given the chance again.

That’s one of the reasons why I’ve always had it out and available for my girls. It was never taboo. For them, they’d ask if they could have some M&Ms or whatever chocolate-coated goodness I’d have peering from clear storage containers on the kitchen counter. I’d put some in a little metal condiment or kitchen prep bowl for them. There was a ritual to it. A pleasure that wasn’t forbidden. To this day, if you come to my house, I always have an open selection of chocolates available. My girls occasionally ask (and, yes, they do still ask) if they can have some. But, they can also go days without it.

Even with a little bloom (that harmless white), a few Ghiradelli 60% chips are delightful.

The current selection of chocolates out and available in our house are various dark chocolate bars, Mallo cups, peanut butter cups (both milk and dark), Power Berries (yummy fruity filled chocolate goodness from Trader Joe’s), dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds and M&Ms – both peanut and plain. I always sort through them and throw out the blue ones. Why did they ever get rid of the light brown ones in lieu of the artificially, god-awful bright blue ones? Those aren’t chocolate.

So, back to that piece of chocolate I awoke thinking of… Does it hurt us to eat chocolate everyday? By the bus load? Probably. But, a small amount? No. I remember reading in Martina Navratilova’s book, Shape Your Self, that she’d treat herself to a small piece of chocolate every day. (And, how did I not know I was gay as a kid when I had a crush on her?) She wasn’t withholding, wasn’t eliminating something she took great pleasure in. I guess I’m the same way.

You so know this is your mistress. It has Her and She right in the name.

Everything in moderation. That’s been my theory to life and my diet for the last few years. I don’t not allow myself to eat things. I just pay attention to how much I eat. When you think of it, if you ate half a chocolate cake, it would start off good. Really good. But, when you finished it, you’d say, “Holy geez! (Or some other superlative). I didn’t need all that!” And, you’d be overloaded on sugar and your taste buds would be maxed out and you’d feel such guilt you’d not eat chocolate again for a month to punish yourself.

You will probably regret eating this entire bar. But a bite on the other hand...that's heaven.

But, with a small piece (or two) of quality chocolate every day, you can savor it in a way you can’t with half a cake. The experience of unwrapping it and perhaps breaking off a piece becomes part of the ritual. The initial taste of it on your tongue slowly grows to envelop your entire mouth. The creaminess of its melting continues into the back of your throat as you swallow it. Your body awakens. You find you lick your lips. The taste lingers even after you think it’s gone. There is a whole sensuality surrounding it. It’s like having just given a lover a long, passionate kiss goodbye. So, instead of reaching for another piece right away, enjoy that feeling. Or, you’ll have just invited a mistress into your home. And, that is never a good thing.


What is your favorite chocolate treat? Should it be a daily thing? Do you have a mistress in your home? Please share your comments!


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@Ybbeige
There's a chocolate sex scene in my book... Unexpectations