To makes matters worse, she lives in an epicenter of drunk eating. Within walking distance of her apartment is Pizza Booth, Pizza Counter, Ben’s Pizza, Mamoun’s Falafel, Pluck U Fried Chicken, and some Chinese restaurant open 24 hours. All but one take a credit card. It’s enough to drive a person to drink…more…and then eat again.

In an effort to start her ’09 off on a healthier foot, Erica intensified her elliptical regime and eliminated carbs, “other than alcohol, of course.” She had the will-power to get to the gym at 6am and avoid breads of any kind throughout the day, but the drunk eating she could not quit — it was her diet Goliath.

You know what it feels like to absolutely need a slice of pizza at 3:00 in the morning. All feeling and action is instantly suspended and replaced with the singled-minded search for a hot and cheesy slice. You wander stumbling, cold, and cashless to the nearest dealer, try unsuccessfully to cut everyone else in line, and burn the shit out of your mouth the second the slice arrives thus necessitating a second slice that you beg off some equally drunk friend or stranger. It is a joy indescribable — because you don’t remember it. No one thinks, “god I want a slice of pizza” but then says, “but I won’t get one because it’s terrible to eat after 10pm and I’m off carbs completely. Home to munch on celery and do another set of 8 minute abs!”

And so in an effort to stick to her ’09 health regime, Erica stumbled upon an unconventional solution.

“So I’m out drinking. And I started to get starving and so I was totally dreading going home after we were out because I knew I was going to want to get something to eat,” she told me over cocktails sans snacks. “But then I started talking to this pretty cute guy. And one thing lead to another and we were sort of making out a little. And I hate to make out in public so I asked if he wanted to go back to my place just to make out more – I was very specific about that – ‘nothing more, nothing less,’ I told him.”

I’m nodding and sipping my extra dirty martini and wishing it were actually just straight olive juice and trying to prepare my face to go, “ugh that bastard!” or “ooooh how fantastic!”

“So we made out for awhile, and then we were both tired so he went home, and I went to bed. Buuut when I woke up I realized that I hadn’t eaten a thing before I went to bed and had burned calories by making out!!”

“Ooooh how fantastic,” I said.

“And so the next night I did it again.”

I hadn’t prepared a facial expression for this comment.

“Next night I met this cute guy, started talking to him, asked him if he wanted to go make out — he did so we did then it ended, and I didn’t eat before beg again!!”

“Hahahah – toooo much,” I said. I mean you tell me what the proper reaction to that statement is….

“And just like the first time I was like, ‘we’re just making out, is that clear?’ and he was fine with it, and it was fun for a bit then he went home and I went to bed – second night, no food.”

“Wow – it’s a pretty fail proof plan,” I said. And I meant it. It really did seem like a win-win…sans the potential for assault and/or robbery.

“So after three nights in a row of making out — which is great — and not eating — which is phenom — I decided I was really onto something,” she said triumphantly, “so now it’s my new thing.”

And there you have it. One girl’s triumph against the evils of late night binge eating. Take it or leave it, but you simply cannot deny its effectiveness.

That’s a whole other will-power story…