Cooking

I love to eat. Seriously, everybody does, but I don't think many people savor their food like I do. I like the textures, the tastes, the weight, all of that goes through my mind with every bite that's not weird, right? However, I'm often times too impatient to cook. So I end up microwaving some noodles, ordering out, or eating something quick for dinner like a fruit salad that takes maybe 2 minutes to make. I think that's the problem with a lot of people my age when it comes to life and love.

We're a microwave generation. We're used to instant meals to make us feel full when all we really crave is a home-cooked meal, something made with time and love. We don't cook because we weren't taught to. A lot of us (especially only-kids and oldest kids of teen parents) learned very quickly to do for ourselves (and our siblings) the safest best way we knew how. Nobody ever came in later to say "Hey, you want to learn how to make XYZ? Here's how." If we wanted to eat it, we had to learn to make it for ourselves. I think that translates into our society now as we want to do great things, but we want them to be in an instant, or at most three and a half minutes, not realizing, or realizing all too well but not giving three damns, that anything worth having is worth working for and waiting on.

Those of us who do cook learned from observation, trial-and-error, or we followed direct instructions. Over time, it became second nature, but to those around us, we make it look easy. From a woman who's always cooking up something, whether thoughts, college papers or whatever, listen closely: It. Ain't. Easy. It takes forethought, it takes planning, it takes following instructions, and most of all, it takes knowing who you (or the people you're cooking for) are and what you (or they) are about. I get it wrong a lot more than I get it right, but when I do get it right, I feel like it's the best thing I've ever made and I log it away for another time. Take that. Apply it to life. Works the same.

On occasion I'll throw down Southern Slam style in a kitchen. But then afterwards I look at the mess and think about everything else I have to do and I feel like "Yeah, this'll last me for awhile," and we all know left overs, even of a good meal, are still left overs. Sometimes I set out the ingredients but think about all the instructions and all the time it'll take and just put them back for another day. Sometimes I'll just keep going back to the fridge hoping a real meal will be there every time I look. As my mother always says "A fool is one who keeps doing the same thing but expecting different results."

Sometimes I forget that you have to enjoy cooking as much as you enjoy eating. Sometimes you have to enjoy the journey of life as much you enjoy living it. I also forget that things take time. If I want it, I should work towards it, and not get discouraged with the detours as they'll make me a better version of myself. A tastier dish ;).

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And making you hawngry :P

Musings (3)

I've been watching a lot of Drake today. I find that he speaks to a deeper part of who I am and want to be with what he says. Albeit, not when he's with his Young Money "contemporaries," but rather when he's in interviews or in his pre-signed days when he was just Aubrey Drake or Wheel-Chair Jimmy. I listened closely to what he said about women and what he thought of them and a lot of it tied into respect for a woman as a being that turns into an admiration that then (possibly) turns into more. It got me thinking of myself as Mrs. Aubrey Drake Graham.

I often talk about love and respect as if the two are mutually inclusive, not realizing that on occasion they can be separated. Where there is a thin line between peace and war, love and hate, respect ties heavily into a person's nourishment or a person's detriment; respect is the thing that tilts the scale and maybe that's why it's always an egg timer in the back of my mind. I'd prefer that love and respect weren't so easily separated for some people, because if respect is as easy to come by as it is for me, then love wouldn't be such a weighty, emotional topic.

More often than not, I'm not the "pretty" girl. I'm the intelligent one. The quiet one. The sweet one. The respectable one. That last one though, is a bitter-sweet tonic to drink. I can often be heard saying "Yes, you respect me, but would you date me?" or, "That's exactly what every little girl dreams of at night; growing up to be respected." It's like that phrase your mother or grandmother uses; "He's such a nice young man! Such a respectable boy!" Makes you cringe a little inside just reading it, doesn't it?

Respect has recently become a sour word on my tongue. After years and years of being upheld to this standard of respect that not a lot of other girls reach, I'm noticing it's a lonely pedestal to be on. On the one hand, so many people admire that girl for what she does (or does not) say or do; they admire the strength with which she holds her convictions and morals in this Sodom and Gomorrah world we live in where everything you think of yourself can be turned to a pillar of salt with a glance. Then on the other...nobody's dating this girl. Nobody's really close friends with this girl. Nobody knows this girl. But they respect the sh*t out of her though.

I would guess I'm feeling bitter; a long line of potential suitors have thrown the word "respect" around as an adjective to their rejection of me. Female friends have left me by the wayside when they find I don't do this or that to fit in with what they or their suitors want me to do. Respect, to me, has become a dirty word, a word used before the sting of either rejection, taunting, or some other hurt that leaves me wondering if it's worth it at all.

I'm reminded of a quote I heard while watching The Tudors awhile ago (If you haven't watched it, you should. It turns history into something sexy and interesting, albeit, not actually factual) where King Henry said it was better for him, in his position to be feared and not loved, as fear served his purpose more. I wonder if it's better to be respected and not loved, or visa versa. Can respect turn into love? Logically speaking, can a man love you, but not respect you?

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<3

Residuals

Letting things go is never easy, especially if it's something you really wanted. Even when you let go of the thing, there's always residuals, and the residuals are always harder to get rid of.

When I was falling in love with George, the Captain (who you'll recognize if you've been reading me long) got in the way. He was supposed to be a mild distraction while I got myself in order enough to handle possibly talking to and getting to know George. George was the "prize", Captain was a pre-test. The Captain then blitzed me and took my attention away from the prize. He then proceeded to rip my heart from my chest and make it into a smoothie.

I spent almost a year being mad. Mad at him, mad at me, mad at W for not warning me hard enough against it. Anger was the residual, the thing left behind by the loss of something. Once I was done with the anger, regret took it's place, and now, slowly, acceptance. I accept that I did a stupid thing by trying to play a game with life. I accept that I got hurt. Acceptance is a good residual.

My anger, which took so much time to get rid of, was like a tough stain on a white pair of pants. I think it was so hard to get rid of because it was always so misplaced. One minute I was mad at Captain for being a douche. One minute I was mad at me for being so naive. Once I finally figured out that my anger was a choice I was making (and one I could unmake), I asked myself if it was worth it to be angry all the time, was it worth it to keep a pair of stained, white pants? I did what most people do in that situation; cleaned closet and threw out those pants.

The residuals of being in love though, are so much tougher than anger. The love residuals...damn if they don't stick with you. I'm not talking the kiddy, "I think I may...I think I might" love, I'm talking the thing that make you notice life. The thing that takes you over and makes you want to be better than you are for yourself, but also, for this other person. Why is it so hard to let the love residuals go? Even though nothing is becoming of them, even though they aren't necessarily being used...what's the point of keeping them?

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<3

Some Things Just Pass You By

My best friend George has known me a year (and some change). In my mind I'm thinking, "It hasn't been that long," and in his mind he's thinking "Wow, you really don't remember?" So, a year ago today I officially met George. That means a year (and some change) and two weeks ago was the day I first saw him and consequently became a blubbering, bashful idiot.

I had just met W a few classes before and as she and I were walking out this really tall, lanky kind of dude goes by totally unassuming. Except he was smiling and wow-y wowzers. I was struck. Didn't know his name. Didn't know anything about him. I did however know his friend and was going to use him to get an in. Got totally side-tracked. By the time I came around to feeling comfortable enough in his presence to speak, he basically told me he and I weren't going down that way. I was so relieved; I wasn't ready. Here's this guy that's literally everything I never knew I wanted sitting across from me being all understanding and sh*t. And here I was, this short, insecure girl faced with either putting up or shutting up. I shut up. And I regret it almost every time I talk to him.

After being shipped going back to Texas, he actually got with W. It broke my heart. I didn't tell her that though; I wanted her to find happiness as she hadn't had a lucky streak with guys back then and George was a great guy. So their relationship is going and one day, he calls me. Consequently, they broke up (to this day I'm not sure if that was my fault or not, as I wasn't doing anything technically off-hand) and I've maintained great friendships with the both of them. Hell, W is still trying to convince me to go for it, which makes me feel kind of skanky.

There are times though when I'm talking to him and he puts his mannish voice on and that bashful, insecure girl comes out of nowhere and blind-sides me with this feeling of  "How could you not be in love with him?" or my other favorite "You were so dumb to let him pass by."

I'm learning though, that to love someone you don't have to necessarily be in love with them even if they are amazing and have you writing the best love poems you've written in your life; to love them is to care about them to the same caliber you'd care for yourself. That doesn't mean anything fancy like, just means you're always there for them. I'm also learning, sometimes, things you were looking for pass you by, and you have to learn to deal somehow. I haven't learned yet how to deal, but I'm always open for suggestions.

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Musing (2)

So...there's this guy. I've known him a few years. We're off and on type friends; family friends too. We run in entirely different circles. If you saw us standing next to each other you'd think we didn't even know each other, much less for long. He looks good though. He's got a little cockiness about him that I dig, and even though I rarely ask his advice, when I do, he gives it to me straight with no niceties. Sometimes, he even cusses me out when he thinks I'm not living up to my potential.

He's a guilty pleasure; an idea that I toy around with on warm summer nights while mulling over calling him or not. And on days like today when my hormones are all out of balance I have to remind myself that there's a distinct difference between a need and a want. Don't let the angelic face fool you, cause I surely do want.

Cravings are usually for things that aren't typically healthy. You know, sugar, super salty, fried things. Think fried chicken with macaroni and cheese followed by fried Snickers bars in a candy coated cake. Cravings are for things you typically don't have but have been known to partake of. My question is...how do you curb them?

I know. Yesterday I was all "power to the virgins!" and now I'm all hot under the collar. Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying it's a sucky gig; it's a lot less things for me to worry about as a virgin than a non-virgin. What I am saying is it gets confusing and tough when I feel this way. Confusing because I don't understand how my body's telling me to go out and try something I've never tried and just hope for the best and tough because this is not the first, nor the last time I'm going to feel this way and knowing that makes me just want to lie prostrate on a cool floor for a long time. What's a girl to do on such days (or nights) when all this crazy hormone-induced salaciousness takes over? How do you deny it?

 Lord, be a chastity belt. <3

The Plight of the Advanced Virgin

I'm feeling some kinda way today...I would attribute it to this being that after I heard it all I can think about is...going to get some body work done. :) In any case, the plight is real ya'll, real and annoying. As time goes on, I learn to just sigh and shake my head at all the assumptions but, for the sake of blogging, let me explain some things about me.

I'm a sensual person, however, sensual doesn't equal sexual per se. The thing is, the people who know me especially the men, can't tell the difference immediately. They hear my music (my iPod is nearly 75% baby-makers), they read my poetry, they hear me speak, and immediately their mind goes "Whoa!" and for the men "I'd hit." They would if they could, but most of them can't. Because I'm too particular, too picky and too saddity (apparently) to even give some dudes a shot, much less the money shot.

I'm open. I'm one of those people if you ask me a question (and I realize that my honesty won't hurt your feelings) I'll answer it immediately with little to no thought. That being said, as the only virgin in my group of immediate friends, the sex questions just keep on coming. I find myself often times giving advice about sex with the disclaimer that no, I don't know what I'm talking about, however if I were in that situation I would... But then comes the other questions: How would I know what I like? How would I know how it feels? How would I know what I'm into? Simply because I know who I am, and I know what I like outside of sex; the same things would have to logically apply.

In my younger days, I was literally trying to give it away. I thought that my body was the best way to receive love from people boys my age. Over time and many failed attempts with very respectable boys who turned me down, I came to realize that what I had to give was more than my body. That was maybe when I was 17. Three years later, I still get the bugged eyes and the incredulous "You?!' Flattering though it is that they think, whether by how I look or sound, that there's no way I could be intact, it gets old, as their disbelief almost never wears off (at least not until they get to know more about me).

My thing is though...it's not as much as a burden as everyone assumes it is. It does get frustrating, being a sensual being and not having someone to do those kinds of things with, but not to the point where I'm ripping my clothes off in the middle of the street (I really don't think it'll ever get that bad). I guess what I'm saying is, as a spokesperson for the advanced virgins...it's really not that serious, and we are not the only one you know. Us openly out virgins are the brave ones, as there are a lot of girls (and guys) who haven't but watch a lot of pr0n and can fake the funk. Us "out" ones? We don't fake it.

It's not because we're ugly, it's not because we're prudes, it's not because we're religious fanatics (most of us), we just haven't found the right person and it's not our time yet. You can respect that right? I mean, if you could go back, wouldn't you wait for the right person?

Sharing the love and dropping the knowledge. <3

People Need to be Seen

I often think that people know who I am. They know what I think, they know my values, but I often wonder if they really know me at all. Do any of us really know the people we're closest to? Do we see them as they are, or how we need them to be?

I am a champion for my friends. I am their collective moral conscious. I am their sounding board. I am whatever they need me to be for them, and I suppose for the most part, it's a pretty easy gig. However, I know so much about them, their little intricate idiosyncrasies and who they are when the rest of the world isn't looking, but rarely do I think they see me.

There are nights, bad nights I call them, where I just cry and cry until I sleep, but so few of them know about that. There are days when my mind is a million miles away, trying like hell to keep up this veneer of strength while giving them what it is they need from me at that moment. And then they smile, thank me and walk away, and I always wonder, "Do they see it? Do they see me?"

The bad nights started happening after my parents' divorce. Usually it would be the middle of the night, and I would sneak out and sit on the staircase of our old apartment and, once I was able to collect myself, go back in, prepare for school, and go to bed. I buried it under the need of others, that great sadness, until it would just erupt and I'd have to deal. That's been eight years, and I've been doing it ever since.

Usually, admittedly, it's something trivial, like a minor heartbreak or feeling inadequate that brings it on. This time though, I had completed the previous blog and the usual problems had dissipated; I'm so comfortable with how I look right now, and I have no real love interests to be worried about. It was creeping into my heart though, during conversations with my friends, and normal interactions with other people until finally, I just waited until the night and let it all out. "They don't even see you," it kept saying. "They don't see you at all."

I don't think too many people know about my bad nights (well, they didn't before now) and if they do, they simply ignore it or try to cheer me up not realizing how deep rooted the feelings are. Not realizing that I have to shake them on my own or else they'll just keep pulling me under. Should more people know? I'm pretty sure they should, but the fact is, I feel weak when I have to explain these depressive moods to people so I simply don't.

I guess my message today is this: show someone kindness. Show them that you see them, even if they don't think you do. I know life moves fast, and you've got so much on your own mind, but there's a person out there just screaming in their heart for someone to notice them, to ask them how they're doing with a genuine smile. You could be the difference between a good night, and a bad night.

Be the difference, ya'll. <3