Can/Can’t Canteen Can Can

…my smorgasbord of feelings…

It’s fully impossible for me not to notice AND acknowledge that when I reflect on my *smorgasbord of feelings over the past five months, it’s almost always associated with food. (see aforementioned reference to *smorgasbord)

Okay, it’s more than a casual food association. It may not even be “almost” always, but ALWAYS. My moods and feelings are like a vulnerable-loving-forgiving-physically-stagnant, casserole of emotions, covered in crispy french fried onions, located on an all-you-can-eat buffet of mostly unpredictable, hungry/foody/full feelings.

Buffet…Smorgasbord…Canteen…Chow Fest…FEELINGS.

It’s so interesting, because these days, I am generally peaceful. In many ways, I have never actually liked or loved myself (and others) more than while this pandemic has been going on. P. S. I am thinking about food right nowcheddar cheese on an egg bagel with honey mustard

Okay, I’m back.

If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook, you’ll see that my daughter, Charlotte, has been baking and creating decadent treats on nearly a daily basis. A key fact is, I am not overindulging in her amazing culinary creations.

Bearing witness to Charlotte’s visionary process has helped me understand myself better. My imaginative and often funny thoughts of food – casseroles, carbs, KETO, vintage gelatinous “aspic-tacular” platters, buffets and canteens are all really healthy ways of coping with:

  • Missing people
  • Craving human touch
  • Concerns about money and being able to provide for my kids
  • My worry over other people’s health
  • Wearing pants inside out and backwards
  • Simply wearing pants
  • Wearing pants that, once fit and now feel like medical-grade compression wear
  • Seriously though… I’m not going to list everything. This is the last bullet point. You catch my drift.

Like you and most everyone, I’ve had to sit (long stretches) alone with myself. I never, ever forget that we’re collectively in this trauma together and not being alone, even though I’m physically alone sometimes, is incredibly comforting.

Also, even if I’m a little more than slightly flabby, I’m really not too shabby. I imagine the same is true for you.

So, even though I ate two dinners last night, (and thought of food even more), it’s not the end of the world. I mean, it doesn’t happen every night and in evaluating what transpired in that extra meal, one could say that I just had a really early breakfast. (Three hours after my original dinner.)

On a physical front, I KNOW I have to move my body more. I haven’t been too into “getting physical,” until I decided to start dancing at least 45 minutes per day.

Oh fine. I’ll move my tush.

Today, I danced for 90 minutes. As I moved my body, I thought about the aforementioned, vintage gelatinous “aspic-tacular” platter. I laughed as I danced, because the committee in my head was entertaining. It was hard to breathe, but I just kept going.

I even danced a “Can Can,” that I think seemed more like a “Can’t Can’t.”

But, it’s all okay. I mean, everything I mentioned in this post is okay.

Sure, I hope I eat only one dinner tonight. I pray that I’ll dance as hard tomorrow as I did today.

And all the while, I hope I can continue to laugh at and enjoy all of my food associations, my temporary flab and life on life’s terms in general.

I’m sending you so much love and virtual hugs. Please be gentle with yourself. You are a gift and very brave to be walking through this surreal time.

Stay safe and healthy. I hope we can have dinner together, (just one) soon.

When Thanksgiving Sucks…

Hi.

So, I’ve been on social media today and everyone sounds super duper grateful. I’m pretty grateful today too, but not all Thanksgiving holidays have been filled with me skipping to my lou.

I just thought it important to tell anyone who feels like crap today, that I have felt like crap on Thanksgiving too. 1997 was a hideous Thanksgiving and the following year was one of my favorite Thanksgivings, ever.

The peer pressure can feel daunting. You might be thinking, “I can’t possibly show how crappy I feel right now.” Just don’t let anyone should on you or your authentic feelings. Don’t should on yourself either.

Your shit show of a day will pass. This, I promise.

And now, I am going to go to my Parent’s home with my daughters. There’s a good chance our dog will poop on my bed while we’re away.

I think we may all smell like skunk, due to the fact that our dog was skunked on the day before yesterday and it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

Still, just for today, I am pretty lighthearted and appreciative for having a roof over our head, food to eat and love to give.

My receiving of love could use a little work, but I’m grateful I see that in myself today.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring. One thing I am fairly certain of, is that I’ll still sort of smell like skunk.

I wish you a meaningful Thanksgiving. If you feel awful and ungrateful, I so appreciate your authenticity. You are perfectly imperfect in this very moment.

Me too, P.U.

pepe le pew
Yep, I stink.

 

The trickiest of all technical difficulties

Over the past several weeks, I haven’t published any blog posts, but have authored at least 200 articles in my head. The reviews have been mixed, according to the reviewers who reside in my head.

Continue reading “The trickiest of all technical difficulties”

Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core

As I was flat ironing my teenage daughter’s hair before school this morning, she acknowledged the “HUGE” growth on my right cheek. I think her words were, “You’re right, Mom. That zit IS HUGE!” She said it as if surprised that my description (for once), was totally accurate and perhaps, even understated. I have lovingly named my blemish, “Mt. Hellonacheek.” Continue reading “Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core”

The Insomniac’s Dreams

Every so often, I get a wicked bout of insomnia. It used to strike with more frequency when I was younger and not so mellow and low-keyed, but it’s back and with a vengeance. Continue reading “The Insomniac’s Dreams”

The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging

I really love getting older. This is absolute truth. I also have this theory that working so very hard to fight aging, ages a person. Pfft.

Continue reading “The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging”

The Wrath, the Dagger & the Mistake

The stabbing pressure of barometric pressure leaves me a cranky-puss.

I’ve heard a lot of complaining about the weather here in Chicago, and some of the complaints, even came from my own head: Continue reading “The Wrath, the Dagger & the Mistake”

The Perfect Crash

I am not marching today and am cranky about missing it. I am grateful for each person who invests in the action to halt what I refuse to believe is the “new normal.” ‘Nuff said about that.

As this week progressed, I found myself holistically bankrupt, with scarcely ANY resource left inside of me to offer to anyone, especially myself. Continue reading “The Perfect Crash”

Depression Has Nothing to do with Rights

I never wonder if I, or anyone else has “the right to be depressed.” I think the very idea seems way off. Throughout my life, I have heard others validate or invalidate individuals (and sometimes, me), on whether enduring depression is acceptable,“ridiculous,” or to be expected. It seems to me, these opinions appear to be based almost solely on measurable logistics. For example,  Continue reading “Depression Has Nothing to do with Rights”

And, the ‘Worst Mother of the Year Award,’ Goes to…

Not me.

Also, it’s a stupid award that should be banished forever.

Other awards off of the top of my head that must also be destroyed:

  1. Ugliest Woman on Earth Award
  2. Human with the Most Hideous Moles Award
  3. Best Self-Deprecatory Human on Earth Award
  4. Most Unlovable Living Being in Universe Award
  5. Best Aspic and Other Gelatinous Creations Chef Award

Wait. #5 is kind of cool. That one can stay. Continue reading “And, the ‘Worst Mother of the Year Award,’ Goes to…”