Guilt.

As I went to my freezer for another dose of Ben and Jerry’s American Dream, I opened the lid to find that a mysterious amount of the delectable ice cream was gone. “What!?!” I thought. “Who ate my ice cream?” Suddenly, I remembered that I live alone, meaning that I was the one who had eaten said ice cream. As I stared at the silky swirls of caramel that familiar feeling began to sink into my stomach. Guilt.  I made a face very similar to this:

Guilt is a funny thing, and I think that we often feel it more than we realize. There are many types of guilt, for example:

·         I shouldn’t have eaten that guilt

·         I’m a bad friend guilt

·         My family will be mad guilt

·         I was just mean guilt

·         I shouldn’t have bought that guilt

·         It’s all my fault guilt

·         I wasn’t supposed to be doing that guilt

As many of you know, it was my New Year’s resolution to not judge others as I feel this is a very bad trait of mine. What I’ve found is that when I do judge people, ie: the stinky hippie next to me on the elliptical today, I instantly feel bad that I scrunched up my nose when he got next to me. I don’t know this guy.  Maybe he has an allergy to soap? Mad respect for making it to the gym on a Saturday morning is more along the lines of what I should be saying to this guy. I’m guilty.

The trouble with feeling guilty is that often there is little you can do but move on and try to make a better choice next time. I think of my students when I say, “Was that a good choice or a poor choice?”  I’ll try to remember this quote the next time I’m feeling bad, and hopefully be ready to move on:

Bon appetit!

 I’ve had a sneaky suspicion lately that I might be a bit of a culinary genius. I took my first cooking class a few weeks back and stared in awe as the woman showed me how to…wait for it…chop an onion! Okay, so my genius might be in the developmental stages right now, but what it comes down to is that I love food. I know, it’s a pretty bold statement, but I’m not afraid to admit the fact that I absolutely love the taste, smell, and look of wonderful food.

I read an article that really made me think about my food obsessions. There is this new term floating around called “food porn”. Food porn includes those delectable pictures of an ooey, gooey, creamy and chocolatey dessert or that big, juicy, cheese-covered burger. See below:

 

When we look at these pictures, apparently our brain gets turned on and we want to eat. They say our brains are even more turned on by pictures than actual food in front of our salivating little faces! It all goes back to the cave man days they say, though I’m pretty sure the Neanderthals didn’t have food porn to browse on Pinterest.

I guess what I found so fascinating about this food porn idea is that I know now why looking up all of those recipes can be so addicting, I also now know why I’ve wanted to be one of those food photographers, (this article did not however explain why I want to be the person who squishes up make up samples and photographs those cool smudges and color combos). What still leaves me baffled, however, is this idea of a “foodie”. I consider a foodie one of those people that is obsessed with food, talks about it with big and usually French words, and makes you feel like the most you know about food is that French fries come from potatoes. I find these people to be kind of annoying.  

 I’m no foodie, but if I can turn this:

Into this:

I will still respond to the name Culinary Genius. Bon appetit!

The Man Must Have List

Alright, who is ready for the latest installment of my love life? Ha. I knew that’d get your attention. So it’s been about four months since the split which means  I’m nearing the six month timeline that all those helpful people told me would mean I was “okay”. I guess I can quote good old John Mayer when I say, “I’m in repair. I’m not together, but I’m getting there.” You see this starting over business is really difficult, but I feel that I’m now getting used to the idea of going on a date*gasp*.

Everyone says you’ll find Mr. Perfect because he’s right under your nose, but I’ll tell you what- I’ve looked there, and found nada. I’ve decided that as a starting point I would create a list of attributes that the next man in my life will have to have. 

The Man Must Have List

1.       Must have their shit together- My friend was trying to set me up with this guy and said, “He’s so nice, he’s getting ready to go back and finish school so he can start his own business.” There are so many things wrong with this sentence. I want no part of anyone going back to school, I did that six years ago. I already know what I want in my life, and I need someone who has their life together enough to say they have a job that they enjoy, they don’t rely on their parents for anything other than love, and they don’t have roommates that own kegs. Seriously, get your poop in a group.

2.       Must be caring- I am a natural caretaker. I’ve been caring since I was 8 and got in trouble for giving my money to homeless people on family vacations. I always try to be the person that people know they can go to for comfort. I need someone who will a. let me take care of them, but in return, b. take care of me. Now I know I’m an independent woman, but truly sometimes I do need help. And also for the record, I’m not going to be your mother.

3.       Must love baseball- It’s how I was raised, I love America’s favorite pastime. If your favorite sport is hockey, this isn’t going to go anywhere.

4.       Must be a democrat- Okay, now I know some of you are like whoa, that’s a strong statement. But you know what, I’m not afraid to say how I believe. I’m tired of everyone being like, “Oh, I’m an independent“ or  “I’m generally more conservative, I just don’t like labels.” Puh-lease. Say what your beliefs are and be proud of them. Besides I don’t want to be with someone who is against gay marriage, a woman’s right to choose, or healthcare reform anyway.

5.       Must have hobbies- It might be my undiagnosed ADHD, but I always have to be doing something. I like to learn new things, travel, cook, craft, shop, try new things, read, write, sing, and laugh. And the fact is, it’s way too easy to sit on the couch and never get up. Therefore, I need someone who also likes to do things because I want my life to be better, I don’t want to be complacent.

6.       Must have priorities- Everyone has things that are important to them, mine are: family, friends, health, and learning. I always say that I want to be the best version of me that I can be. If I’m with someone, they need to share these same values. I want to say I have a better half and know that I’m someone’s better half too.

Am I asking too much? I hope not. Mr. Right will come along, but in the meantime, only the men meeting the above qualifications need to apply.

Face your Fears!

As I sit looking out to the blizzard that is taking hold outside, I’m already getting that nagging feeling in my stomach. You know, the dread that after it dumps 12 inches of snow I’ll be forced to venture out in my Eskimo suit to face my fear of driving in the snow to work. My friends even make fun of me for being their personal meteorologist because I always know at least three days in advance if I’ll have to drive in the stupid snow. These thoughts have led me to the idea of fear. It seems like I’ve become quite a chicken as I think of all of the things that I am afraid of. These include but are not limited to:

·         The dark

·         Spiders

·         Snakes

·         Death by shark bite

·         Riding my bike not on a designated bike path

·         Heights

·         Birds

·         Airplanes when they are getting ready to land (ironically I’m fine during take off)

·         Being sick or injured

Where did all of these irrational fears come from? I can totally persuade myself that the chances of Jaws attacking me is pretty minimal in my landlocked location, however even a picture of a snake gives me the shivers. What creates this feeling inside of us? And furthermore, how is it that so many of us have similar fears?

I wish I had some sort of advice for how to overcome these fears, but as it turns out this wuss is pretty unhelpful in this area. I spent my last snowy commute quoting Home Alone when Kevin runs out of his house  to yell only to find the scary snow shovel guy. “Hey! I’m not afraid anymore! I said, I’m not afraid anymore!” It seemed to work as I got to work on time and feeling confident with my slick driving skills. Perhaps there is more to this positive affirmation business then I give it credit for. So if the next time you see me staring at a flock of birds and screaming that I’m not afraid of them anymore, just know that’s what I’m doing. Cheers to facing your fears!

Decisions, decisions

I find it interesting that people are always saying that they hate making decisions, because life is truly about a million different choices that we make every day. What to wear, what to eat, when to leave for work, etc. The conundrum that I’ve been facing over the past months however, has been those choices which are of a much larger nature.  You see, I’m a worrier. I worry about things that I cannot control, ie: will I be happy and satisfied with my life in 70 years? It’s almost as if I’m wishing for a book, you know like “Your Ultimate Guide to Life.” But I suppose that life would not be worth living if you simply had to follow a book.  Instead, maybe I need some sort of app to help me make a decision, you know like heads or tails. But then again, you shouldn’t trust your decisions on pure chance either.

I remember thinking I had it all figured out when I was a kid and asked for a Magic Eight Ball for Christmas. I was dying to ask this magical ball all sorts of questions, mostly involving my latest crush of course. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the Magic Eight ball was nothing but a dice rolling around in some blue liquid. There was no magic at all, just some stupid dice telling me to “Try Again Later.” What a discouraging toy.

I think that what it ultimately comes down to is that our minds have made decisions for us before we even know that we have made them. Fate takes our hand and tries to lead us the right way. I know that I have made poor choices in the past, but learning to a. not think about them, b. shiver and scrunch up my face when I do, and c. learn from my choices has led me to believe that I’m actually a pretty good decision maker.  I’m not sure if it’s nature or nurture, but somehow I’ve been led to feel like I’ve made the best decision for myself. My advice to those of you out there attempting to make decisions of your own is to trust that gut, and not glare at people who tell you that, “When you know, you’ll know.” There might actually be something to that quote.