I just completed my first paid, official catering job. It was an amazing success! Three people asked me for my card. Ooops, I don’t have one!
A very good friend’s father died. Normally, when there is a party at her house, she is at the helm and is a very competent and amazing entertainer. This time, for the wake, she needed to be with family and couldn’t take the time to run a show. She knows Ginger is a personal chef as well with a history of catering and teaching so she asked if we wanted to cater her dad’s wake.
I love this woman SO much that I was honored to have been asked. I dragged Ginger over for a meeting and a deal was arranged. My friend’s father really liked Mexican food so we did an AMAZING spread of Chili Verde, Chicken Chili Colorado, a Chili Relleno Casserole, Rice , Frijoles, salsas, chips and Queso dips. For the sweets after the main meal We made Mexican Brownies, Regular Brownies, Blondes with Dulce Leche baked in them and grilled pineapple. If you have never grilled pineapple, DO IT! Let it get nice and caramelized and eat it hot. I love sprinkling cayenne on it, though tonight, just grilled it natural.
Halfway through the night, I noticed an e-mail from the guy who recently broke me heart. It angered me and I just let it go till I was driving home. Then I felt the emotion.
It really sucks to feel angry when I don’t want to engage in it. I feel guilty for wanting to say that he’s a coward, and how shocked I am about that. I didn’t think he of all people would let the fear kick his ass. I recognize it because I lived it for so long. I instantly feel guilt for feeling animosity because I feel hurt and shit upon.
I understand depression, fear, and all the crap that goes with it. I KNOW he didn’t mean to hurt me, abandon us, throw me away like I am disposable, or even to cause me an iota of pain. I KNOW this, but he did, or I TOOK it that way. Universe, told me no. I’m grateful I found out before one of us moved across country.
He told me once, he never wanted to do to me what anyone one else had ever done to me. He didn’t want to be one more person who hurt me. I regret I can’t say he didn’t.
Somewhere inside me, I understand that to get over it, I just have to fucking let it go. Just…stop holding it and walk away from the shit.
I had a really good day, even the small bump with Mr. No Name ( I don’t know what to “blog name” him) can’t take away the content I feel in my heart over today and what I was able to provide my friend.
I’m wound up, spent and fucking blessed!
Shape and stretch dough, then because it is the first pizza, made with Ginger, on my stone, with a virginal paddle, in her oven; which I am still learning…we dress the dough and get it in, without taking pictures. She worked the first dough and paddles it in. I removed it.
pepperoni, ham, artichoke hearts, black olives on half, mushrooms, salami, crushed red pepper, jalapeno, feta cheese and cheese. We added fresh tomatoes after it cooked. It was delicious. It was the first time we cooked together and it was very intuitive for each of us.
We totally bonded.
The Bliss Junkie and I got all my stuff out of storage, anything still there, I need to get donated by the 15th.
Today was a very, very, very nice day and I am happy. Not just content, but happy.
Yours in absolute gratitude and love,
Tonight, I cooked for the cook.
It felt so amazing to spread my culinary wings in my own kitchen.
Ginger is a really good cook, so I was a little nervous (but only a little) to cook a meal for her. I went for a simple (hehehehe) chicken cordon bleu. I impressed the cook. She made a delicious mushroom soup and we had a test desert cake for after dinner. She was bitching about the cake batter the whole time she was making it. She was right, it was a little dry, but the almond like crust was very good.
Ginger’s goal is a cookbook. She has worked all her life for this goal and is feeling close to her dream. I put that energy into my sauce for her. Some would say I prayed for her to get her cookbook, some would say not, whatever it was, it was from the heart.
I am very content. Content is good.
I’ve got most of my stuff unpacked. CD’s and DVD’s are still in boxes till I start the hauling in of book cases, dressers, CD rack, etc..
Ginger and I meet in the kitchen throughout the day and dance, or we meet out back in the smoking lounge. There is a really nice vibe here with her. I feel no pressure. She doesn’t want anything from me other than my rent. She’s not angry at the world or directing it at me. She’s happy to have new kitchen gadgets (a ricer, a lemon reamer as opposed to a juicer, my Schlemmertopf) to use that she didn’t have before I came.
I wish Mr. K was around to tell and share this with, but just like he did when I was 17, he’s checked out. I’m sorry he is living the cycle of depression, it does sadden me, but it doesn’t define me. I will always be here for him if he decides to come up for air. I owe him such a huge thank you. I had no idea I could experience that kind of intense happy. It was truly a gift and I will always hold him in my heart as I have for the last 30 years. I’ve loved him since I was 17 and that hasn’t changed, but we are not going to be what either of us hoped for. I have to just give him my absolute love and gratitude. I don’t hold it against him for not being “it”, but I thank him for reminding me of a time before it all went so…traumatizing. That was so healing and I wish I could return it.
There is a whole “new life” waiting for me to create and play in and I am looking forward to it.
I’m trying to ground myself this morning.
Last night I spent the night being angry, and at the same time totally understanding how someone sees through the eyes of depression, and yet understanding that I don’t have to let someone else’s depression, define me.
Does that make sense?
I guess the “Don’t take it personal” comment, applies to what I am trying to do.
Happy to have had a response, and yet totally frustrated that I don’t speak “dude depressionese”. Talking to a friend with issues of his own, that he can talk about helped give me a little perspective. I heard some truths in what was said to me regarding the situation.
Two words, and we each saw the meaning of those two words totally differently from one another. “Don’t even” Those were the two words. Placing those two words in context, means telling you I had just sent a text saying I hope you are OK. Two hours later I had no response and sent an angry text saying, “Wow, fuck off (insert my real name here)” In comes the “don’t even” comment followed by more silence. I asked wtf I should have done, please don’t answer that because either way I’d have been wrong, followed by me saying, I am sorry. I’m worried, hurt, and in the dark, I’ll leave you alone.
So my friend sees it as him saying, Don’t go t here, don’t make me deal with you taking off and bailing on this right now on top of everything else.” Yet I hear it as, Don’t even…go there, start with me, talk to me, expect me to talk to you, why don’t you just go away, and how LONG do I have to ignore you?
So I slept the weekend off, woke up feeling a little better, happy to have at least had a communication from him knowing that as of last night…he was “ok”. Damaged, obviously, but alive. Aware I felt a lot of his despair, and have been for months…I have to let go of that and not lose my empathy, but not take on his feeling as my own. Hopefully, having been there (I overdosed in 2007) I will be able to see where he is coming from. I also hope though that the fact I had that breaking point of my own in 2011 followed by that “peak experience”, I can help him see how in control he IS. Not can BE, but IS.
As I sit and over-examine this, I realize how much I have changed, because a few years ago, this would have taken me down. My self-worth and value would be all wrapped up in what he is going through and I’d have no clue this was not about me.
Two songs come to mind, both from the same group.
I used to listen to this and cry when I was really sad and in a dark, dark place trying to claw my way back to life. SO I pretty much listened to this for a decade. It is a beautiful song to sign. It FEELS good to move with this lyric.
And the other one…
Sometimes words just become…too much. Especially for an over-thinker. We all know that point of words just becoming chatter, chit a chat, chit a chat, chit a chat, conversation, contradiction, criticism, it’s only talk, cheap talk!
Yet, with the last few years behind me, I remain thankful: