Month: December, 2015

Best. Christmas. Ever.

David was given a mandolin by Miriam and an electric wok by Joe. I was the recipient of all the yumminess that came from those gifts. Our tradition was to wake up early—thanks Joe! Make coffee. Open presents. David would make a fantastic breakfast, bacon, French toast, eggs. Often we would go to a movie and come home for dinner. This particular year we just stayed home. This is my memory: lying on my bed, watching an old movie, David bringing me delicious things to eat. Fried things. Onion rings. I was in heaven. Then I took a nap.


On Writing (or not writing, as it were)

The desire to write is always there—in my life. Why, then, do I not write? Why don’t I make a discipline of it?

I used to think it was a fear of failure/fear of success thing. I don’t believe that anymore. I dabble and then I let it go. Yet, if it is as important to me as I say, then how can I let it go?

This is the first time I have put pen (yes, an actual pen) to paper in many, many weeks. But I think about it all the time and I want to write.

Me and Food: A love/hate story

Food and I, we have a dysfunctional relationship. I love Food desperately, wanting to be around it every minute of every day. I can’t get enough of Food. But it’s not healthy.

Food makes me feel bad about myself. Because of Food, I look in the mirror and hate myself. All the while, longing for more Food. I try to break away from Food, but I need Food to live. I give it up once in a while and Juice for a few days, but–it’s just not the same. I live for Food, one dysfunctional day at a time.