Trader Joe's is not my friend

Like everyone else who appreciates badly-designed parking lots and checkout counters carefully placed at an illogical 75 degree angle, I shop at Trader Joe's.

I used to shop there because you could get healthier food at a cheaper price.

But the idea of eating healthy goes out the window when the shelves are stocked with tempting little numbers like these.

It's like the Pabst Blue Ribbon they sell at Whole Foods. Kind of takes the wind out of their healthy sales.

Now, I've spoken about the fact that I'm allergic to chocolate on here before, so I won't dwell on it. First let me just say thank you, but I don't need your pity. Second, I'll remind you that it doesn't close my throat or send me into shock or seizures. I just get stuffed up and sneeze - a small price to pay.

The other thing is I've been an orange and chocolate guy from way back. When there used to be a chain of Swensen's Ice Cream shops, they had a flavor called Swiss Orange Chip, which may be the best tasting chocolate/orange combination ever to be served on God's green earth.

A very close second, or berry close second (see what I did there?) is raspberry chocolate sticks. Flavor, texture, size - it just all works for me.

Except the sneezing part, but again, well worth it.

Anyway, the point is that as long as Trader Joe's carries these and many other sweet treats, I can't take their claims of "organic" and "healthy" very seriously.

Although I did hear that the raspberry and orange chocolate sticks are free-range and cage-free.

So that makes me feel better.

Things I don't need to know Part 1: See's nutritional info

Welcome to the beginning of yet another ongoing running series of blog posts from all of us here at Rotation and Balance World Headquarters.

Like my Luckiest Actor Alive series, my Why I Love Costco series, my What Took So Long series and my Guilty Pleasures series, this one will deal with a specific topic - things you don't need to know.

Although it's not a competition (or is it?), it'll also make coming up with a post much easier for me. Cross one new year's resolution off the list.

So, seized by the holiday spirit, I bought a five pound box of See's candy for one of the companies we do business with. And I had every intention of getting it to them before Christmas.

Then I had every intention of getting it to them before New Year's.

Then I had every intention of getting it to them the first week in January.

Then I had the discussion with my wife about whether it was too late to deliver a Christmas gift. We both agreed it was. I felt bad about not having been able to deliver a box of candy just a few blocks from my house on time, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I ripped the paper off that sucker and drown my sorrows in chocolate.

Can you blame me?

However, inside the box was this little bit of buzz-killing reading. Really? A nutritional brochure for See's candy? Because that's what people stuffing their face with the vanilla cremes want to know?

I think not.

Internally I'm sure the fine minds at See's thought they were being informative. After all, there is that pesky law about nutritional value labeling in California. But intentionally or not, what they were really being was annoying. The last thing anyone eating See's candy wants to know is:

A. What's in it (besides chocolate)

B. How many calories it has

C. Anything besides how good it is

Maybe it'd be better if they put it under the second tier of candy at the bottom of the box. That way it wouldn't matter and you wouldn't even have to pick it up and look at it. Where it is now, at the top of the box, you can't help but pick it up to get to the candy. Your eyes can't help see the words.

And that slight twinge of guilt for having seen it is unavoidable.

But guilt is something me and my people have had a lot of experience with. And I've turned getting over it quickly into somewhat of an art form.

At least until Valentine's Day when I'll be dealing with it again.

Doesn't matter if it's black or white

There are two truths here. Yes, I'm allergic to chocolate. And no, it doesn't stop me from having it.

Usually.

It's not like I go into shock, or my throat closes, or I break out in a hideous, angry red rash (that hasn't happened since I dated Susie Harding in high school, and I'm pretty sure chocolate had nothing to do with it). Anyway, if that happened every time I'd never have it. But fortunately, my reaction is on the mild side. All that happens is I sneeze and get stuffed up for a couple of days.

So the decision I'm faced with is how important is quality breathing versus the chocolate.

What I usually wind up deciding is that it's a small price to pay, especially for the good stuff - which is what I try to limit myself to. After all there's no sense in going through it for a Tootsie Roll or a Hershey Bar. Now Milky Way, that's another story.

My friends who know this about me somehow always seem to conveniently forget it until they're holding a plate with a thick slice of chocolate cake right in front of my face. Then, just as the rich fragrance of the chocolate reaches me, they snap it away, saying, "Oh, I forgot. You're allergic." My reply, in my head, is, "Oh, I forgot. You're an a#%&*(@."

You'd think since I've had to involuntarily take chocolate off my plate that I'd be thinner. But sadly there's no shortage of substitutes to satisfy my sweet tooth.

Not too long ago I read that if you keep exposing yourself to the thing you're allergic to, eventually you build an immunity to it.

I don't know if that's true. But I'm definitely willing to find out.