Life is Short But I Don't Always Want to Eat Dessert First

This year is going by so quickly. I simply cannot believe that we’re already into August. It seems like the older you get, the faster time flies. I know that’s not exactly an original observation but it’s a true one.

I don’t think I’m ready for it to be August. I feel like I’m just now getting a grip on my summer. It’s been so hot that I haven’t had chance to work outside as much as I’d have liked. Yet, my tomatoes are starting to ripen and my herbs are doing well. I even have a few ears of corn coming in although I suspect the squirrels might be as excited as I am by the fact that some of the husks had been pulled back on my largest piece today.

I do miss the lazy days of summer. That’s the thing with being an adult. Not only does time fly but there seems to be less and less time to just lie down and be lazy outside on the summer grass. I got one of those inspiration emails today that was intended to remind us how to simplify our lives. It started out by saying how things are much simpler when you’re a kid and it’s only as you get older that things get more complicated and most of this is our own fault.

For example, one of the main points was that as a child, if you’re thirsty, you have a drink. As an adult, it’s never that simple. I have to sheepishly say I can attest to that. For me, it becomes an issue of “What am I thirsty for? Hot or cold. If I go for hot, that means coffee since I forgot my tea bags at home. If I drink coffee do I want the strongest kind? Or I could have a Diet Coke although I know that’s not good for me. Tom Colicchio endorses Diet Coke but he gets criticized for it because it’s made of chemicals. Well, maybe I’ll just have some water but then I’ll probably end up drinking half a bottle and leaving the rest to sit there for ages because I never really want water. I just am supposed to drink it….”

You get the idea. It’s true. We do complicate things as we get older but I think that’s just the nature of being older. I like the idea of being a wide-eyed child who just takes things as they come but, truth be told, it’s never that easy. Sure, I could take the fact that I had to fire a perfectly nice man on Friday and just do my job and move on. Yet, how as a human can I do that when the whole time, I’m thinking of how he took out a loan to move for the job and how unfair it is that he’s being fired without being given a chance to try to fix his errors….

My point is that while I do enjoy a certain childish joy in life for the small things, the reality of being an adult is that nothing is every simple…black and white. It’s like that saying: Life is short, eat dessert first.

I get that. I get the philosophy behind that statement: Most people enjoy dessert most so why not just do what you want in life without dealing with formality and structure. Just jump straight to the good stuff.

Yet, in truth, if we could jump straight to dessert, would it be as rewarding? I say no. Then again, I’m not the hugest fan of desserts so my opinion probably doesn’t count for as much as that of someone with a major sweet tooth.

It might be fairer to change the phrase to something that does appeal to me such as “Life is short, just eat the damn cheese.” Which is probably the name of a book that’s actually out there…I mean there’s books about moving cheese and such…why not eating the damn cheese?

I digress. What I mean is that I like cheese almost more than any other food. However, because I try hard to watch what I eat and balance my meals, there’s not always room for cheese. Sometimes, I want nothing better than a salty bite of pecorino romano or the tang of a strong blue cheese but if I’ve already eaten rather badly that day, I usually don’t give in to the craving even if I want to give in to it.

Which leads us back to the “Life is short, just eat the damn cheese.” If I’m going to die anyway, why not enjoy the cheese when I want it?

I do. Sometimes. If I really, really, really want the cheese, I’ll eat it. However, most of the time, I’ll only want it because it’s there and I can have it. If I could eat nothing but cheese all the time, chances are my desire to eat the damn cheese would diminish.

Which is how I feel about the “Life is short, eat dessert first” saying. If you got to eat dessert first and ended with the soup, doesn’t that take away the slightly forbidden pleasure in eating dessert in the first place? For me, part of the delight of dessert is that it’s just a little decadent and it adds a realistic level of ‘naughtiness’ to a meal. I think to some degree, many of us feel a little guilt when we get to the dessert course and already quite full but something sweet might be rather nice. So, we either let ourselves get talked into it or we talk ourselves into it. If you really want dessert, it doesn’t take long.

So, in actuality, while it’s nice to want to eat dessert first or be as wide eyed as a child, life sometimes gets in the way. Things are more complicated as an adult. It would be nice to stay up all night if I wanted to because that’s what I felt like doing but the reality is that I have to work and that would simply be a bad idea. It’s the same as if all I wanted to eat all day was hot dogs. Sure, it might seem like a good idea to just go with the flow but is it, really? I think maybe sometimes knowledge gets in the way but mostly, it’s what complicates things. If we don’t know that eating hot dogs all day leads to high cholesterol, digestive issues and weight gain, does that make it ok to do it? I didn’t know that if I only ate fishfingers and chips as a child, it would be an unhealthy diet. Same with chocolate milkshakes.

No, I think that while it would be nice to keep the innocence of youth, that old wisdom thing kicks in. We are more aware of who we are and what we want. It makes it hard to just keep things simple when you know that while some things are black and white, most of the time there’s a lot of grey between the two opposites.

Still, there are some things that continue to remain simple: Mondays are not my favourite days. That doesn’t seem to change much no matter how quickly time flies. Today was no exception. Tomorrow will be better. That’s another simple-ism that I think remains true.

Sometimes, simple is good…

Happy Tuesday!

Monday, Monday....

I think I have a psychological aversion to Mondays. Every week, I bemoan them and complain about them because they always end up being very Mondaylike.

This week, I decided to not be so negative about Monday and, instead, approach it like any other day. I’d had a long weekend so there was no reason that my Monday should have to be, well, a Monday.

Unfortunately, it seems that even when I try, Monday wins. It’s not like anything bad happened or I have any reason to not be happy today but something about the day tends to make everything just seem….blah.

I woke up from a very comfortable sleep. I had a puppy cuddled under one arm, teddy-bear style and the other snuggled up beside me on top of the covers. I was actually surprised to discover that Rory was my teddy-bear because normally, that’s Sookie’s position. This might have explained why when I finally opened my eyes, I saw Sookie staring at me with betrayal in her eyes. She doesn’t like it when Rory gets cuddled and she doesn’t and Rory’s side of the bed was NOT the side that Rory was sleeping on this morning. It didn’t help that Rory, who tends to be rather a vocal dog, did her best Moaning Myrtle this morning. Moaning Myrtle is what I call her when she starts grumbling. She has a habit of making a groaning noise in her throat whenever she’s perturbed. Based on the rather loud, rather frequent grumblings this morning, she was quite perturbed to get up.

Needless to say, beginning the day with one grumbling, perturbed dog and another that’s sulky because she wasn’t getting her normal cuddle d was not a good sign.

Still, I tried to be positive when I got to work. I reminded myself that not only do I like my job but I also like my boss and my coworkers and those are good things indeed.

Yet, somehow, even though the day was busier than it has been in a while, the Mondays still managed to seep in. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I just felt….blah.

The blahs are no fun. They’re different from the ‘crabbies’ because I’m not crotchety or cranky. Instead, I just feel…quiet. I don’t feel like chatting to people and I don’t feel like doing very much of anything. I just feel like staying in my own world and doing my own thing.

They generally happen on a Monday. The weekend has passed and the workweek lies ahead. I don’t have any plans for the evenings or the weekend. I just feel, well…blah.

I’m sure there are cures for the blahs but I find that if I just wait, they pass quite easily on their own. Sometimes the blahs stick around and these are generally when I feel rather lonely and that my life is pretty boring. My life isn’t exactly a thrill-a-minute. It probably could be but I’ve found that I’m not a terribly thrilling person.

Most of the time, I don’t mind that my life is quiet. The loneliness is usually helped by having two dogs around. It’s amazing how much company two canines can be. I do wish that occasionally they could carry on a conversation with me but, at the same time, we have the most comfortable silences ever.

There are times when I do feel lonely and that I probably should do something about it. I’m not even talking about male companionship though sometimes that might be nice. More than anything, I’d like to find some more friends.

The thing is, that’s quite hard when you’re an adult. Through the school/college years, you’re surrounded by a group of peers that you see often. Thus, it’s natural and easy to make friends. As an adult when you spend most of your time at work, it gets harder. Certainly, there’s nothing wrong with being friends with coworkers. Some of my closest friends are former coworkers. However, it would be nice to be able to make other friends who I don’t see every single day at the office.

I know there are ways. I could join…something- a book group, a gym, a class…something. Yet it’s hard to break into an inner circle. I’ve never known how you find a book club. I’m not terribly good at going to the gym regularly. I could take a class in something but, well, I don’t particularly want too much of an academic commitment when I’m trying to start a new novel. I could try a church group but, as an outsider, it’s intimidating to try to find a church and immediately belong. Also, I’m not particularly good at being a regular churchgoer so I’d feel a bit hypocritical. It sounds weird but it’s the truth.

I have excuses for everything, I know. And it’s not like I don’t have friends. It’s just my friends are…not here in Cincinnati. They’re all over the place but not within the distance where I could say, “Hey, want to come over and have a “Gilmore Girls” marathon with me?” or invite over for dinner because I’m making extra.

I think it might be easier for parents. They have children who make friends. Thus, the parents generally start to get to know one another and friendships are born or they have activities that their children share. Singlefolk like me have a harder time.

I just don’t know how to go out to make friends anymore. I think I’ve lost the knack. Whatever I do will probably mean going outside my comfort zone but where to start is always the biggest question. If anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear from you.

Still, it’s not like I’m hurting for friends, as I said. I’m lucky enough to have several very good friends with whom I can discuss everything from sex, fitness and nutrition and the benefits of owning a fish spatula. If I had no friends, I’d be worried that I was a pariah but I know this is not the case. I’m just feeling a little clueless and fish-out-of-water-y at the moment. It’s probably just the blahs from which I’m suffering and for which I’m blaming the very presence of Monday.

I’m quite sure that the blahs will drift away as soon as the week begins to move forward towards the weekend. When even your dogs seem to know it’s a Monday, that doesn’t bode well to begin with, even when you intend to approach the day with positivity.

Still, there’s always tomorrow. Let positivity abound!

Happy Tuesday!

Growing Older, Growing up

I’m trying to figure out if I’m getting old or I’m just growing up. In my opinion, there is a difference.

Up until fairly recently, I’ve embraced the fact that I’m an adult but I’ve also enjoyed some ‘younger’ activities. I loved going to concerts, particularly Green Day. I loved dropping everything and going on a weekend trip to visit a friend. I loved going out and about, spending days at Disneyland and forgetting the realities of life.

It’s not to say I don’t still enjoy some of that stuff, if not all of it. It’s just…not the same.

For example, it used to be when I found out Green Day were on tour, I’d research where would be the easiest, most convenient place to see them and I’d find a way to go. Now, while I still enjoy their music, I’ve seen them six times in concert already. If they came to Cincinnati or somewhere else rather convenient, I’d want to go. It’s just that I don’t want to go that extra mile, to fly to Vegas or L.A. to see them. I don’t need to go that extra mile.

There was a part of me, a passion that Green Day used to fill. It sounds a little lame when I say that but it’s true. I got excited to see them. I wanted to know what they were doing, who they were, what drove them, why they wrote songs. Through my entire life, that’s been the case with one band or another, one movie or book or TV show. There’s always been something that I’m passionate about.

I’m not saying I don’t have that passion anymore. It’s just…changed.

I find now that I’m happiest hanging out with my family and the puppies, just…hanging out. I love sitting outside on a cool evening, watching the puppies play, drinking a glass of wine and enjoying the fact that I don’t have to be doing anything else.

I’m horribly afraid this means I’ve become boring. Or, worse, old.

Although, I’m not saying I don’t enjoy going out and doing stuff. I just don’t feel like I have to do something in order to enjoy myself. Sometimes doing nothing is far nicer.

This worries me. What worries me more is I have friends who are older than me who enjoy being busy almost every moment of their life and while what they’re doing is fun, the idea of me having that kind of timeframe makes me feel slightly panicky inside.

What does this mean? In all honesty, I don’t know. I suppose it’s a natural human reaction to compare yourself to others, to say, why aren’t I doing that? Why don’t I want to do that? Is it ok that I don’t do that?

I suppose when I look at it, in a way, I’ve always been a bit…well…boring. As a child, I liked to be read to by whoever would read. When I learned to read, I spent about 10 years in books without really coming up for air and only then because I realized it was probably time to do something other than just read. I always preferred board games to sports though I can appreciate some sports, just not playing competitively. I tried to act but realized watching shows and managing them was far more fun. I find it more fun to stay home and watch a really great TV show than paying too much money to see a crappy film at the theatre. This is not something I ever thought I’d say since I used to think going to the movies was the best pastime ever. I still enjoy it but I now think before I shell out my $11.50 to see a movie rather than just seeing anything that looks entertaining.

Eek gads, I sound like a boring old Monkeypants. Before you know it, I’ll be shouting, “Get off my lawn, varmints!” to the neighbourhood kids.

Although, I honestly have no idea what a varmint is. I think I saw it in a Crankshaft cartoon once. In which case, the fact that I don’t find Crankshaft funny means I can’t be that old, right?

I digress. What I’m saying is that I’ve always been a bit of a homebody. It’s just become magnified by age. This doesn’t mean I’m likely to become a hermit. No, if I spend too much time at home, I get the itch to go out, to do something. I just don’t have to do that as often as I used to. I don’t need to do it, I want to do it. I think there’s a difference.

I suppose what it comes down to is that I’m actually happy with my life and pretty content. Naturally, I think it’d be rather nice to have a Mr. Captain Monkeypants in my life but given my online dating duds, that’s not too easy to come by. Yet, I have a house, two amazingly fabulous puppies who make me laugh and smile every day and the ability to sit down and write whenever I feel like it. I no longer have to struggle with the easy procrastinations of a fairly new writer, the days when it was easier to clean out the fridge than it was to just buckle down and write. No, these days, if I have an hour, I’ll go write- no thinking needed, I just do it and it comes out pretty easily and pretty well.

I have a family fairly nearby and a job that pays the bills. It also gives me plenty of blog fodder/writing ideas.

I have a published book that’s getting some great feedback from readers.

It all seems rather nice when I type it out but the thing that I think is scaring me is the eternal question, is it enough? It’s not glamourous. It’s not exciting.

But it’s fun. It’s relaxing and it’s fulfilling.

Perhaps that’s the key from moving from youth to true adulthood- you realize that it’s ok to be fulfilled even when the fulfillment comes in the form of everyday comforts.

Or, maybe I’m just really boring.

Either way I’ll take it. (Although if you hear me say “varmints”, I’ll rethink that).

Happy Wednesday!

Oh, Those Summer Nights....

It's back to work tomorrow for me after a nice long weekend. I'm currently watching three boys, probably around age nine, wheel their bicycles down the street, candy in hand, chatting casually as they stroll. For them, it's summer. There's no school tomorrow and even though they probably have to be in at a certain time, chances are that tomorrow they'll wake up and have another lazy summer day.

I miss those days. When I was in England as a child, our summer holidays were only six weeks long but that seemed like an eternity when it started. I remember waking up, the dew on the grass, not having to do anything resembling a scheduled activity. If my mum didn't have anything planned for us, I'd either spend the day reading or, if I felt like being social, I'd go around a friends and we'd while away the day doing very little of any consequence.

We lived on a crescent street which meant it was basically an open ended semi-circle. In the evenings during the summer holidays, all the kids who lived close by would gather on the communal grass outside the houses and we'd play games like Red Rover or clockworks or "It" (which is what we called 'tag' in England). Sometimes, we'd play cricket or football (aka soccer) or we'd make up games of our own. Since the summer evenings in England are much longer than they are here, it would sometimes be almost 10 p.m before it got fully dark but most of the time we were all summoned in by our respective parents just as the sun started to go down and the shadows grew longer.

Those were great days, full of ease and freedom. There were a core group of kids who'd play in the evenings- I was usually one of them along with my older brother- but other kids would join us when they were allowed. Some would also live on our street, others would be our friends from other streets. Regardless of who played, it was, as so often it seems to be when reflecting on childhood, an idyllic time.

Seeing those boys wheeling their bikes takes me back to those times. The cool of the night would be falling as we'd be going to bed. When I was too young to really play games on the street, I'd have to be in bed by 8:30 p.m. and some nights, it was still fully daylight out which made it very hard to sleep.

Nowadays, even when the days are long as they are now, the freedom that came with youth has vanished a little. As an adult, I get to make my own choices about bedtime as well as more important choices such as: Do I dare try to wire my own ceiling fan or should I wait for my dad? (answer: wait for dad). I get to choose my own meals and clothes and pretty much everything in my life. I have freedom over my life but it's not the same type of freedom found in those lazy summer evenings where sometimes all we'd do is lie on our backs and look up at the clouds to see what we could make out in their billowy forms.

I still do that on occasion although it's harder now. For one thing, I have to worry about if the grass is too long to lie on and, if it is, I have to mow it. Also, I have two puppies that can't resist a face dive if they seem me lying down within reach. I still look up at the clouds and I still can find shapes but it's not the same as lying on an English patch of grass, head to head with my friends and trying to out-cloud one another.

In some ways, I do envy those boys outside with their bikes. It would be nice to have the summer off without commitment until school starts creeping its way back into their consciousness at the beginning of August.

But in other ways, I can't help but feel glad that I'm through the adolescent years ahead of those boys and living my life the way I want. It's a tradeoff, I supposed- the granted freedom of youth vs. the earned freedom of adulthood. Being an adult is not a bad thing at all.

Of course, it doesn't mean I wouldn't say no to a summer vacation.

Happy Wednesday!