Day 1: Pathetic Food Journal Entry

Here you will see my first "Pathetic Food Journal Entry" for December 9.  It was a lovely assortment of cakes, strawberry vanilla and a chocolate fudge cake, accompanied by a Blue Moon beer.  I offset the dense flavors with a small bowl of leftover Dan Dan noodles that H made before he left.  It only gets worse from here, folks.  Please note the fruit in the background, I did not eat any of it.

I Eat Like a Man When My Man is Silent

It's been clear to me, from the moment I met H, that my fiance is, in many ways, a better human being than I am.  I'm not even trying to be dramatic, I honestly believe it.  While I may have more patience and subtle ways of maneuvering through the day, H is hands down more dedicated to cultivating a peaceful presence in the world.  That's why it came as no surprise to me when he decided to participate in a 10 day silent meditation retreat.  In my gut I knew he could complete the retreat but I never knew how much it would affect my eating habits.

It's not mystery that H is the cook in this relationship.  Before I met him I was a single girl who lived alone with three cats.  I worked a lot, taught writing, and had little time to take care of myself.  I ate a lot of rice and beans and an assortment of frozen meals.  I was also a vegetarian at the time so I had less food options in my culinary cabinet.  The main point here is...I was and is lazy in the kitchen department.  Whenever H has to leave for a couple days, he makes sure there is an assortment of healthy and fresh food options in the fridge.  He asks me over and over what I am going to eat in his absence and I usually mutter something about beer and pizza.  He smiles at my snarky response but I know he is concerned that upon his return I will be sprawled on the couch, beer bottles and pizza boxes strewn about the apartment, with two cats sleeping on my face.  In all honesty, this may not be a far fetched reality.

On December 9, H left for his retreat and I was left to fend for my own.  During his time away I wouldn't be able to communicate with him at all.  No text messages, no e-mails, and no phone calls were allowed during this time.  H's job was to sit in a retreat center, located in Michigan, and meditate.  I'm sure thoughts of my well-being swirled through his head but his main goal was to work on himself during this time.  I was so proud of him for taking on such a difficult task but my hungry stomach felt otherwise.

My first dinner alone proved to be pathetic and hilarious.  It was at that moment that I decided to document my meals while H was away.  Since I would be alone for 5 days before I headed home to spend Christmas with my family, I thought it would be a great way to remember how much my stomach lovingly depends on H's skills in the kitchen.

Now that the holidays are over I have time to share with you my exotic and processed dinners that I endured while H was away.  I hope you enjoy it! Maybe you'll consider sending me some home-cooked meals after reading my food entries. Yes, please?

Lazy No More?

With my tendency to put things off and procrastinate, it should surprise no one that I was dragging my feet when it came to picking a date for the wedding.  My only reservation had to do with money, not the actual act of getting married.  But, my partner knows me, and he kept bringing up the issue in a gentle but clear way. So, we set a date and secured a venue.  We chose May 30, 2015.  Our ceremony and reception will be held at the site of our first date, a funky cafe and antique gallery.  We're both really excited.

At this point I realize that was the easiest step to make.  Now we have to complete all of those little steps that include invitations, flowers, clothes, blah, blah, blah.  Help!

Let's Be Honest...Do I Even Look Like A Girl Who Can Wear A Dress?

I recently visited my family in Michigan and tried on my mom's wedding dress.  My mom and I have similar body types so I assumed that the dress would slip right on.  I was wrong!  My poor mother helped me step into the dress she wore 45 years ago and she could barely zip up the back.  My sassy, adorable mom was so tiny when she got married.  She still looks good today...but I had no idea how hot she was in 1969.

Above all, when I look at my mom in photos from decades ago or pictures taken only hours before, it's her eyes that I love.  Her hazel tinted eyes reveal her true feelings or honest reaction to a story.  There is no way that my mom can hide how she feels when she is around others.  If you know her well, you know what she is thinking.

As my mom pulled the fabric, looking for a little extra give, I wanted to turn around and study her face.  Here was her youngest daughter, wearing her wedding gown.  And, while I may have been a little tipsy from a couple Bell's beers, I still knew at the moment how special it was.

So, the dress hunt will continue.  I plan on using my mom's dress in some form but it may look completely different than the dress she wore.  Either way, wearing something made out of the gown my mom wore seems pretty kick ass.  Any ideas or suggestions are welcomed.  I am clueless when it comes to dresses...as you can see.

Little Poem for My Future Husband

With all that we lack
there is abundance in
a thank you dinner
a gift of wine
and fresh spinach in a ceramic bowl.

The Dress: Part 2

As a kid, I remember looking through my parents' wedding album and thinking how beautiful my mom looked in her gown and how handsome my dad looked in his suit.  My parents were married in 1969 and the clothes they wore at their wedding are currently in style and, in a good way, vintage inspired.  With my lack of stamina for shopping showcased in the previous post, I thought it would be fun if I tried on my mom's wedding dress to see if it would fit. 

My parents are into texting, we text more than we actually talk on the phone nowadays, so I recently sent my mom a text asking if I could try on her gown.  "Absolutely," she replied.  With the added, "I had to have the top let out a bit for my, you know, larger boobs, so I think it might work for you, sweetie."

A couple minutes later I found an e-mail from my dad with two photos of my mom on the day of their wedding.  A third photo was included of my mom sitting in the car holding a rose between her teeth, a reminder that even though my parents have had their marital troubles, my dad still really loves her.
I looked at the photos of my mom, she was only twenty-one when she married my dad, and I couldn't get over how youthful and happy she looked.

As a teenager, I wanted to be the opposite of all that my parents stood for and I fought them on everything.  I thought they were doing it all wrong and that when I grew up, I would do everything right.  I chose less than stellar guys to date, I hurled hurtful remarks at them, I screamed, I cried, I shut them out.  I had lost sight of the love they had for me, the love they had for each other and the rest of my family.  Now, at thirty-five, I can see my parents for who they really are; two people who love their kids more than anything, two people who did the very best they could.  Now, I want to do the same with my life.  I want to do the best I can for my future marriage and my future family.

Now, it only seems right to wear my mom's gown.  In a couple weeks I will make the trip home to see if me and my boobs fit into her wedding dress.  I will keep you posted!

The Dress: Part 1

A few weeks ago, I went with a good friend to look for my wedding dress.  We went to a funky boutique in Lawrenceville to see if I could find a colorful and fun dress.  I went through the racks, walked in circles, smelled candles, looked at price tags, felt overwhelmed by all the planning that would soon ensue for the event and I gave up.  This entire routine took less than 20 minutes to complete.  I’ve never been one to enjoy shopping and, in all honesty, I didn’t see anything that I loved. I may hate to shop but I want to love my wedding dress, I want it to fit my personality.  

I turned to my friend Lisa and said, “I think I’m good.  Want to go get a drink?”  Lisa, who wears adorable vintage outfits on a daily basis, was in her element and ready to help.  She suggested going to more shops and fully tackling the task.  But, I know Lisa really well, and I know that she loves margaritas just as much as I do, so I suggested instead that we cross the street and get a few pitchers of drinks.  Five minutes later, we were sitting at the neighborhood cantina enjoying our sangria and margaritas.  I felt like I had accomplished something, even if it was only a 20 minute shopping excursion, but at least it was something.