Thanksgivin' Me a Headache

Jeez Louise, people, I need to update.

Actually, I'll be honest for a second. I haven't blogged because I swore I'd be positive and think happy thoughts, Peter Pan style and... well... this week it has been hard to do that. I've been in a piss-poor mood and our house is currently filled with snarls and hair-raising fights. And I'm not talking about the dogs. Yikes, I know. The only way I can describe it is a big ol' funk lingering over our house. Every little thing Chris and I do annoys the hell out of the other. I can always tell the level of pissed I've gotten all week by how many glasses I break. This week, I'm down three. My good beer pilsners, too, so you know I was over the edge. Yes, I'm a dish breaker. It's dramatic, wasteful, unnecessary, and an all out bitch move but, well, it's my thing. Better in the sink than at his head, right?

...right?

So yes, this is why I haven't updated. Plain and simple: I didn't have anything fun or positive to say. I can't even pinpoint where the fighting is coming from but I'm willing to bet some more stemware that it's holiday stress. Either way, things will smooth out soon and until they do, I'll just drink my Pabst Blue Ribbons out of coffee mugs.

And speaking of holiday stress, this will be my first year helping with Thanksgiving! (Yay? I think?)



I've been honing my culinary skillz (yes, with a "z" since I'm gangster and because an "s" would imply I was somehow trained) and I'm really excited to show them off to everyone. I'm making a Food Network themed offering that includes:

Guy Fieri's Chorizo Chickpea Sautee
Paula Dean's Green Bean Casserole
Alton Brown's Baked Macaroni and Cheese
Guy Fieri's Roasted Carrots and Cippolini Onions

and a wildcard Raspberry Truffle Tart with some techniques I learned WATCHING the Food Network.

Sounds delicious, right? Well, let's hope so. Here's what the tart looks like so far. It's got to do it's thing in the fridge over night so it doesn't have any garnish but ain't it beautiful?



I'm also organizing all my recipe supplies by what dish they go in so that tomorrow morning I can haul the goods to my mom's house. They are going to have to sit tight over there while I'm gone, though, because Chris and I have to be at his side of the family's for Thanksgiving at 1pm. Then we have to rush back and I have to start on dinner. My emotions about all this time-crunching and food-making is fading in and out from dread to excitement and then back again. Like a hot flash. Yes, an emotionally-driven, Thanksgiving-charged hot flash. Awesome.



I know I say this a lot to you, Moms, but seriously, you rock. If I had a kid (or worse, PLURAL KIDS) I would be in the fetal position by noon tomorrow rocking back and forth between swigs from a warm Jack Daniels bottle. What gets you through, I'm sure, is your overwhelming drive to make memories for your children that will last them a lifetime and I dig that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm excited about finally being included in the Thanksgiving cooking tradition. But deep down, I'm sort of in it for the self-satisfaction of my family commending me for an amazing meal. Yes, I was hugged enough, I assure you. But who doesn't want a boost every now and again? So moms, again, I adore you and your ability to suffer through the ups and downs of the holidays in the name of spirit and tradition.

And as for me, if the task at hand gets to be too much, well, I'll at least be at my mother's house and can throw her dishes around for a change.

Less wasteful, no?

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

The point of my blog is to be more positive. "Wag more, bark less" is an adopted mantra so that I keep from complaining or losing sight of all the good in things; both of which I have a habit of doing from time to time. I told myself I would never vent or blog negatively. I'm trying very hard to spin this current situation I'm in into something to observe at all angles and move on from. I do not plan on dwelling, or worse, letting myself down by ranting and raving. I will bark about this once, fellow readers, and then I will carry on for the better.




Firstly, it is not hard to be a good person. I don't mean charitable or nice or even compassionate... just a person that others can look at and go "I'm glad they are in my life". I think in this day and age of self-service and independence, people are losing sight of genuine human decency and manners. There are very few excuses for kindness to not be second nature to you. Friendliness makes the world go round. Whether its to the lady that pours your coffee or your own spouse, thoughtful consideration is what separates us from animals. If what I am saying seems like a lot to ask for, you are part of a huge problem.

With that said, I'm going on the record to say that by not possessing the mere good qualities that I simply expect of my own self, I'll kindly show you the theoretical door out of my life. When someone treats me with respect, they get mine ten fold. If someone makes me laugh, my new job is to make them laugh harder. If someone appreciates me, I show them consistently how I appreciate them. These are not things I am bragging about, people. This behavior is common sense. If you do not grasp the simple concept of give and take, please just sit in your house and avoid all human contact until you die alone. I don't ask for much, but if you can call me a friend because of the things I have done for you, just return the favor. If you don't, you are taking advantage of me... plain and simple. I'll happily stay out of your life. Everyone deserves people who makes their life meaningful if they themselves make others' life meaningful. If you aren't contributing to this very uncomplicated concept, get. the. fuck. out.

I don't think for a second that I'm being too harsh about this. I don't think I'm being big-headed when I say that I am a good person and deserve good people in my life. It is a privilege, not a right, to have people you can depend on.

There. Barking over. We will now continue with our regularly scheduled blogging.

Crazy Little Thing...

Chris and my relationship has never been normal. I'm sure a lot of couples say that about themselves, but I'm pretty sure ours raises the crazy bar just a little higher. Allow me to explain...

As you know from my past entry about Chris and my beginnings, he had a child before we even got back together. Well, there goes the infamous "first comes love" bit. Once love did come, though, boy did it come. For me to say I knew he was "the one" in the first week we got back together is an understatement. Even my own mom saw us back together for the first time and knew. We glowed. Literally, glowed. And we were going to need that kind of whimsical, blind insanity that was our love to get through the first few months of what was nothing short of a nightmare.

I failed to mention what a whirlwind of risk taking that went on in the first weeks of our relationship. It started with my apartment. It was the first "on my own" apartment I'd ever lived in and it wasn't exactly in the greatest of locales. I loved it, but I would have to admit when Chris reminded me of how much he worried about me alone in a neighborhood like that, I started to see what he meant. Our "love is blind" insanity's first rule of business: move in together.

Love is also patient, as the psalm goes, and we needed a lot of it during those few months. We were going entirely on gut and heart; what made sense rationally was a buzz kill for our punch-drunk love. Looking around me now at everything we've accomplished, we did pretty damn good. Looking back, however, gives me hives just thinking about it.

I grew up real quick in those months. In one day, I'd chosen a life that now included a child, a divorce, a mother of said child, and an overwhelming responsibility to someone I loved so dearly that all the other difficult things didn't and wouldn't matter.

We made the decision to move in together right out of the gate. It was perfect timing in our minds. Granted, our minds were clouded with all those fuzzy love feelings, but perfect timing nonetheless. We bounced from place to place as reality stepped in and evicted us from cloud nine. We were trying to build a life with each other and all the while it felt like life was fighting back. Some people say that making rash decisions without thinking "big picture" will be a mistake. I believe that. But in our case, every time we trusted our heart and went blindly into a decision, we inadvertently loved each other more for it. And when that said thing blew up in our face, well, we were immune. Keep in mind, "Love bears all things", too.

So let me catch you up. We'd moved in together (albeit place to place) and after about a year and a half, we were settled in somewhere we loved and finally began to function normally. (I know, just a year and half is all it took. Yikes.) The idea of getting married had been there since the beginning. When I said I knew he was "the one", I didn't mean "the one... boyfriend". I meant hands down THE one. THE one I would spend the rest of my life with. THE one I would brush my teeth next to each morning. THE one I would fight with about dirty dishes for the rest of our lives. THE. ONE. And luckily, he seconded that notion.

So, just like our random relationship, we decided on a random Wednesday on a random date (August 19th) to take the random opportunity that we both had the day off and... we got hitched. We didn't even tell anyone. We just told my mom. I wore red trouser pants, a white top, and the cutest short-sleeved jacket. He wore a blue top and dress pants. That was it. No tie, no dress... just... us. We decided not to tell anyone we were actually married because later down the road we wanted to have a real wedding. We thought it would just be a fun secret between us and there would be no reason for anyone to think otherwise. We'd just "be engaged" and later when money and the stars aligned, we'd have an actual wedding. We should have known then that we are always trying to skip ahead and forget that with us, life always catches up and snaps us back to reality. By the end of October, the jig was up. Planning a wedding was so not our style that we decided to stop kidding ourselves and 'fess up. We got mixed reviews at first, but in the end, everything evened out. Just like it always does with us. And you know what? That random, abnormal Wednesday was the happiest day of both of our lives.

Alfred Adler once said "The only normal people are the one's you don't know very well". Now that you've had a peek at how not-so-normal Chris and I are... maybe we aren't as different from everyone else as we think. No matter ups and downs, lefts or rights, one thing is for sure for everyone: At the end of the day, you don't just want everything to go right...

...you want to make it right with the person who is everything.