Tuesday, October 16, 2012

All or nothing


I realize I am an all or nothing kind of person. I knew this, though only mildly, all my life. I can't bring myself to wear clothes I don't like. I mean, really like. As a kid, mom would buy me a shirt, and I'd tell her I hated it, and she told me to wear it anyway. And I never would. I'd glaze over it in my closet, and years would pass, and finally Mom would toss it. And if I somehow ended up in clothes I did not want to wear, I was miserable the whole day.

That transcends into basically everything. If it isn't what I want, I don't want it at all. If I am in the mood for a specific food, nothing else will do, and I'd rather wait, hungry, until I get it, or my mood changes. As well for dating. I can't lower my standards, and I will not date for fun because it feels like a waste of everybody's time. I want what I want, usually the best.

Now that I am an adult with my own income and making all of my own decisions, I have found myself indulging in this lifestyle. I buy exactly the clothes I want, and as a result, am very pleased with my personal fashion. I buy just the food I want, which can often be on a whim so I end up with junk food far too often (trying to change that habit). I do not do things I do not want to do.

It can be a bad thing. I end up not going to parties, not working on personal projects because I'd rather lay in bed and read until 2 am.

But, in the end, I think it will be a good thing for me. I think I will marry well. I will be satisfied with my art. I will be happy.

Foodie-ism


I was raised to be a bit of a foodie. My dad loves to cook and would always whip up some fantastic dish, never settling for mediocre. Whatever he made, he made it with style and the best flavors. I have been spoiled. Even after I moved out, I would still go to their house and eat whatever dish he had made, taking home leftovers and whatnot.

And then they moved to Virginia.

Since then, I don't eat so well. I eat well enough. I am not dying of scurvy or malnutrition. But. I miss high quality food. I miss a perfectly cooked steak with rosemary potatoes and steamed asparagus. I miss steamed artichokes and hollandaise. I miss chocomacamania cookies. Mushroom leek soup. Prime rib. Pulled pork sandwiches. Chile verde burritos. Barbecue wings with homemade sauce.

My dad's special touch to food.

I don't find the same relaxation in cooking as dad does, but I love high quality food. And my life is devoid enough of it now that I may throw myself into cooking just to have it back.