I'm not dead...yet

I'm slowly coming out of my carb coma...

Thanks to all the advice you guys lavished me with on how to find my next donut 'home'...which now tells me donuts are spelled doughnuts...who fucking knew?

Luckily for everyone in my family (their safety was in serious jeopardy)...

I found nirvana.

It's located at 2100 5th Ave, Seattle, Washington 98121

Better known as...5th Ave's Top Pot Doughnuts



Now I'm telling you all this is some swanky place...as seen below...

But don't fear...despite their posh appearance they do deliver the 'goods'.

Due to my unbelievable parking karma there was a spot right out front...literally like the gods were telling me, "Monkey Girl, we know how you've suffered we've saved this spot just for you."

I walked in...and the angels sang...with a tear in my eye, and the fumes of sugar wafting in my nose, my body literally floated to the donut counter.

This cherub behind the counter smiled at me and as I rubbed my hands together like a child on Christmas morning...I sighed and told her I'd found paradise.

She laughed...and handed me a napkin so I could wipe the drool from my chin.

As I picked out 2 dozen donuts (don't worry I share) I danced over to the kind looking barista and asked him if it was humanly possible to make me the largest white hot chocolate with enormous amounts of whipped cream.

"Of course" he said.

"Heaven" I whispered.

As my husband gasped at the bill (these puppies aren't cheap) I walked out of my new found donut heaven already inhaling a lovely cake donut... I heaved a sigh of relief.
Life can go on as we know it.

Feeling generous, I offered the homeless man outside the shop his pick of any donut.
Smiling, he pick the pink glazed cake with rainbow sprinkles.

Of course, who wouldn't.

And another one bites the dust...

(this post is particularly aimed at my Seattle readers)


Yes, this morning I too, read the newest research announcing the unbelievable the link between eating processed food and depression.

And I quote,

"Researchers at University College London found that people with a diet heavy in processed food had a 58 percent higher risk of depression."

This is especially timely news for me and every other Seattlite who recently discovered (well, it might just be me) the our beloved Wallingford Winchell's Donuts has closed. (sigh)

This news certainly has added to my depression. Quick someone pass me some Prozac, no make that a xanax...I feel a panic attack coming on.

Where the hell am I going to get my donuts now?
This is a serious loss for all us serious cake donut eaters...not everyone loves or even likes Krispy Kreme.

Every month, for the last 18 months, the only thing that made my life bearable was just knowing that every time I went in to see my Lyme doctor, we would stop off at Winchell's to pick up a dozen of the most delicious donuts.

And then last month...we pulled into the tiny parking lot next to the permanent roach coach and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the 'Closed' sign in the window.

Is it for real?
It's 11:47 am?
Was there a death in the family?
Maybe this is the one week out of the year he goes for a week vacation in Tahiti?

Seriously, I was grasping at straws.
I kept going through all the possible scenarios till we got home.

And then I called...hoping there would be a reassuring recorded message telling all his loyal customers he had swine flu, but would be back to baking my rainbow sprinkled cake donuts just as soon as he was able...I was holding my breath till I heard that fucking annoying beep, beep, beep and that recorded apology telling me the number had been disconnected.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Now the nearest Winchell's is a mere 901.18 miles away in Salinas, California.


What's the point to living if you can't enjoy a good cake donut?
Any suggestions, people?

I already have to drive approximately 29 miles for Popeye's chicken.
What is this world coming to if you can no longer get your fried comfort food?