Spring has sprung and I'm dreaming of viciously biting the head off a huge chocolate bunny. I'm also dreaming of immersing myself in a veritable river of chocolate, in the midst of my Lenten-inspired "no chocolate" rule...Easter Sunday's gonna bring a heckuva cocoa hangover, I can't wait.

We always crave the thing we aren't supposed to have...in my case, after several weeks without my favorite food, you might think I'd be craving luscious truffles, or a fantastically rich chocolate cake, but truth be told, the thing I've missed the most is a good ol' Hershey bar, with almonds. Nothing like 'em, nothing compares. Bar none. (sorry, had to be done).

This is really not very fair, but I just can't bring myself to trust anyone who doesn't like chocolate. Now I fully exclude those in this category who are morbidly allergic to the stuff, so don't go whining to me about how you get unsightly hives and suffer anaphylactic shock if you even unwrap a Milk Dud...(maybe there's your problem, Milk Duds ain't the real thing, they're processed. Next time try a Hershey bar).

And I'm not saying that you should only eat chocolate...there's always room for desserts from the non-chocolate variety. It's just that given the choice between a creme brulee and a hot fudge sundae, I gotta hang with the fudge option. If offered a vanilla cone and a vanilla cone dipped in hard-shell chocolate, well, you get the picture.

Chocolate is the stuff of dreams, the essence of our existence, the cure for all things female when female things go astray. In 12 days, I shall be awash in chocolate, cocoa will ooze from my pores.
Maybe next year I'll give up vanilla....