Ballistic Chocoholic

I figure I should start this blog with a little background on the chocoholic. I don’t remember when I first became addicted to this sweet, reviving nectar of life, but I know it was a long time ago. I remember when I first discovered eating too much of it gives me hives. I remember eating more despite this discovery. I have limited control over the addiction today, and I’m not sure I desire any.

It’s not a pretty addiction. I mean it sounds lovely; you get the image of a pretty girl plucking assorted chocolates out of a heart shaped box. But addiction is rarely pretty. Yes, my new friend who has yet to know me, I am a chocolate monster, horrifically devouring the substance – like this child has – seeking it out like this strange chocopire woman, bathing in it like this possibly dead woman – No! What?! This is just weird…

But you get my point: I’m a desperate addict. Even as I write this, milk chocolate coats my mouth, and my fingers threaten to finish the newly opened bag of chocolate chips. My mind tells me to save it. If I finish it, I would have to move onto one of my hidden stashes of chocolate. Hmm…enough said here.

For those of you who are not aware, chocoholism refers to an addiction to chocolate (cleverly combining the words chocolate and alcoholism). Chocoholistic is then an extreme form of chocoholism, perhaps describing one who is ballisticly addicted. I plan to keep this blog very choco-centric, ranging from confessions to recipes to general chocolate discussion, but forgive me if my dialogue strays occasionally.

I know that many chocoholics fancy dark chocolate. Let me preface my preference by saying that I’m the kind of girl who snags sugar packets from restaurants to pour straight into my mouth throughout the day. The point is, the sweeter the better. Dark chocolate is a sorry second to milk chocolate in my book (and white is a thoughtless third). Don’t get me wrong, if I’m PMSing, and there’s only dark chocolate in the building, so help you God if you get between it and me, but when I’m at the store stocking up on my drug of choice, you won’t see this addict’s hands straying from perfection.

Well, that’s all for today. Stay tuned for more confessions from a ballistic chocoholic…