I Am Yogurt. Hear Me Roar.

There's a person who doesn't like me.

Outrageous, huh? I mean, I'm as charming and delightful and fun and witty and wonderful as anyone you know, right?

Okay, okay, so perhaps I'm not everyone's favorite person. I do, however, like to pretend that everyone digs me, so when someone makes it perfectly clear that I'm the object of their disdain...well, it gives me the ickies -- so much so that it becomes all consuming. Yes, I need to finish my micro lab homework. Indeed, there is a chem test Friday. The house needs to be tidied, the laundry folded, the dishes washed, the scooter ridden (see how I just slipped that in?), the bills paid, the plants watered and the kids cherished. But I am single-minded in my need to remedy this dislike.

Gotta be honest...probably won't happen. This will likely be a long term, stand-offish, challenging relationship. And I suppose accepting that is as much a part of my growing up as any of the other big steps I've taken in the last couple of years. I also can see that with age, I've become a little more acidic (like yogurt, y'know) and am palatable to a less broad audience. So while my newfound pH is considered an improvement to some, it may very well be a turnoff to others. Too tangy, perhaps? Well, I could throw on some honey...and walnuts, of course, for character.

If I could only offer a reduced fat version of me...then surely everyone would like me.

Spooning

A few days ago, Spinning Marcy asked if I'd given up anything for Lent. I quickly replied, "I don't play that," but gave it more thought as the day passed and decided I should consider taking something away from myself for the sake of self discipline. She's giving up artificial sweeteners -- and I'm rooting for her. When I gave up diet soda a few years ago, it didn't take long for the addiction to back off and I can't tell you how happy I am to not to pump my body full of aspartame several times a day.

First off, I'm not going to consider giving up something like chocolate. That would just be absurd and bordering of self-abuse. I don't need chocolate, but it's one of those lovely somethings that should just be . It's one of those cultural kinda things. When someone offers you chocolate, you just should accept it. Y'know...kinda like communion. It brings us together.

My achilles heel...peanut butter. Spoonfuls of peanut butter. Not sandwiches (I haven't made my bread since the beginning of this semester). Not cookies. Not in a lovely Thai stir fry. Those things I can enjoy in moderation. It's that jar of Whole Foods crunchy peanut butter in my refrigerator and the spoons that are in the drawer right next to it. That's my problem. That's my weakness. That's what would be just about the hardest thing for me to give up right now.

So I guess it's as simple as putting the p.b. away.

Or maybe the true culprits are the spoons.

Bake Sale, Anyone?

That's Fab Miss Kristen's suggestion for saving Casa del Mar. Why, you ask, does Casa del Mar need saving? Because my landlord is going to sell it.

Gasp!

It's not that I haven't been a good renter...he appreciates how I have cared his house (my home). He has grown weary from the expenses of owning it. I'm guessing he bought into it at the top of the market and is now going out of pocket more than he's making off of me (remember he lowered his rent so I could move in? Rather nice, but not very business-savvy).

So there's a sign in my yard. And it makes me sad every time I see it. I have loved Casa del Mar from the moment I crossed its threshold. And it has loved me right back. This little house was my big leap out of a dead marriage and has been front and center for an astounding amount of personal growth. And I can appreciate it for all of those things.

It will be very hard to pack up my things and move away, but I know all will be well -- probably even better -- when I do so. Perhaps Casa del Mar has another job to do. Another person's life to change. She rolls like that, you know.

My Favorite V.D.

I have spent many a year detesting Valentine's Day.

I'm not saying that I think it's all that great now. It's still a mostly sad holiday for those who can only muster up gestures of love and caring when prodded by Hallmark and Zale's. But, well, you kinda knew this was coming...this year was...a-ok.

Mark and I agreed that we would give the day only a smidge of attention. We gladly express our love for one another daily, and neither of us are swimming in cash so a simple something would more than suffice. As I was making heart-shaped gluten-free chocolate chip pancakes this morning, I glanced out the front window and sheepishly said to Audrey, "My boyfriend is here." (And I quietly wished I had combed my hair.) Mark surprised us with Valentine doughnuts and a pretty box of my oh-so-very favorite Christopher Elbow chocolates. And tucked neatly inside the box of gorgeous confections was a cd he'd burned for me.

Of all the gestures from all the men in all the years, I have never been so moved. I've already savored it three times. Each song was personally picked by my sweetheart and means something very special to our very special something. And that makes my heart smile.

I think my inner holiday cynic just shriveled up a bit more. Give me another year and I might actually be nice.

Behind the Music

Training for a marathon leaves one with less time to do but more time to think. Today while out for my run I was listening to some old tunes. I have ridiculously few albums, so those I have, I have listened to. Again. And again. And again. I had only three or four loaded on my mp3 player a couple of years ago while I was going through the divorce. Two songs in particular, anthems really, could revive my workouts and give me strength to do what needed to be done on the home front as well. One, Desert Song by Alice Smith repeats, I'm going away, and my favorite stanza is My momma said....life is for living....if you are unhappy....go out and reinvent yourself (I still get chills when I hear that part). And an Alicia Keys song that spoke to me was "Go Ahead" sending the message that it's time for him to go (he suggested we split, so I thought he was supposed to leave), including A change is going to be made, so you'd best be on your way.

Anyway...(you're here because I can make a short story long, right?), today's running music reminded me of those workouts that kept me sane while I fought against, later accepted and finally embraced the demise of my marriage. The songs walked me through much of the darkness, the pain, and eventually hope. And today I again reminded myself that while I would not recommend divorce to anyone, it was absolutely one of the best things I've ever done for myself.

Minutes after I finished my run, I received an email from the mother of one of Audrey's friends. She was giving me the heads up that she is in the process of a divorce so I wouldn't be surprised if Audrey came home from school with this information. Upon delivering this news to her daughter, she immediately latched onto the fact that Audrey has two houses like she soon will and looks forward to sharing this with her.

And I was heartsick.

Now, I don't know this gal all that well. She and I have chatted numerous times and she helped out to a tremendous degree while The Ex- was out of town a coupla weeks ago, but we've never grabbed a drink and shared war stories. So my picture of her life has been that of a lovely marriage and happy kids and a two car garage and family vacations. And maybe that is all true. But even if it is, it isn't always enough.

So because this revelation was such a surprise to me, it induced me to reflect on how lightly I approached the divorce once I truly accepted it. I'm sure I offended many a friend with my happy-go-lucky delivery of the news, but it's so much deeper and uglier and harder than any of us let you know. Because even though we know that getting that divorce is the right thing to do, there's nothing easy about ripping your children from the lives they knew, shredding your own dreams and aspirations and starting from ground zero. So we keep all of that under wraps, deliver the news with a nonchalant smile and an "It was hard to come to the decision, but we know it's for the best."

And while that last part is usually true, I think I'll always be sad for anyone who has to go through this. Then I will wish for them the amazing adventures and happiness that I've experienced along my path. Because while I've taken some ridiculous missteps, they've all added up to the magnificent life I enjoy now.

Though magnificent missteps and a ridiculous life might be more accurate.

Busy as a...

...single mom going to college. Nah. Doesn't have much of a ring.

Spinning Marcy gently reminded me this morning that I hadn't blogged in quite some time. This is an indisputable truth and luckily, I have a jillion excuses for my lax behavior. Let's just hit one biggie. School.

I mentioned about a month ago that I was starting classes at UCM. Hardly worth the fuss (except it makes my Mondays really long), it's a whopping one hour in Warrensburg. About ten days later, my courses began at JCCC, coinciding perfectly with a very last minute trip that The Ex- took to Haiti. You might recall last winter he did some PR work for a mission in Haiti and the Dominican Republic. They asked him Tuesday at accompany a priest who was returning to the island and document some of the damage. He said, "yes" so I dropped my plans and picked up the slack. Wednesday at 8 a.m., my classes started. The kids had to be ready for school extra early three days a week and sitters were snagged for my late classes.

He returned stateside about six days later and by the next week had zipped off to Utah where he was shooting a documentary. So while my semester ramped up, I was having troubles getting into gear. The kids have been reasonably patient with my schedule, but we're all feeling the pressure of my madness (yes, I'm comfortable admitting to that).

He returns late tonight. Tomorrow I hope to get in some quality time with my beau, interspersed with cooking and studying and resting. I don't feel like I have a very good handle on my classes so far (organic and biochemistry, microbiology/lab...need I continue?) And next week brings a couple of tests to boot. I'm crossing my fingers that a quiet weekend will restore some balance, even if it's only my skewed version of it.

Telling Tales out of School

While I doubt I'll share many of my homework assignments with you as they're mostly organic chemistry formulas and microscopic pathogen life cycles, I was doing this for my professional cooking class today and it felt more like I was writing a blog post. So because I feel so pressed for time and don't know when I'll squeeze out another, I offer to you my introduction paper to my Chef. He wanted us to present ourselves as if we're seeking a position as his assistant on a cooking show. It kinda sums up the last few years...

Dear Chef Smith,

I have been a fan of your show, "Cooking is Real" for some time now. It has come to my attention that you're seeking an assistant and I think I would fit the bill perfectly.

For many years I considered myself a pretty good cook. I loved to flip through cookbooks and peruse the gadget aisles at fine cooking stores. I watched "Good Eats" with rabid excitement, but when it came to actually preparing a meal, more often than not I'd find a less-than-stellar shortcut or complete the meal with the assistance of Ore Ida.

Then about five years ago, my (now ex-) husband came home from a meeting claiming to be on a very strict diet. I looked it over and was happy that he was making a solid effort at dropping the extra 100+ pounds that he'd been carrying around for years. It was a plan based (for the most part) on sound nutritional principles. Lots of veggies, some fruit, a smidge of dairy, limited carbs and reasonable portions of meat. I was also feeding three children at the time, so many of our old favorites continued to grace the dining table -- quesadillas, pizza and plenty of pasta. But as the weeks passed and the pounds dropped, I began spending more time in the kitchen, cutting sodium from all of our diets and enjoying more fresh, minimally processed foods.

And by virtue of a few healthier meals a week, plus walking away from a 20+ year diet soda addiction, I effortlessly dropped 10 pounds.

After he lost those 100 pounds, (which I later was told he lost so he could leave me!), my interest in diet and exercise continued. I acquired my own grain mill with which I milled wheat for breads, pastas and other baked goods (I have a thing for muffins), as well as corn for the best darn cornbread you'll ever taste. My kids soon became food snobs as well, expecting fresh flavors and nutritious balance.

When the truth came out that my husband was no longer happy in our marriage, I gave up at-home-momming and sought employment. After a few months of searching, an ad seeking "Not Your Average Cook" popped up and I thought it to be a perfect fit. Luckily the chef thought the same. I soon began cooking for a 16 bed HIV/AIDS nursing facility. Unlike most nursing homes, we enjoyed flexibility with our menus as well as recipes. We shopped the farmer's markets, eliminated typical convenience foods and introduced new flavors to our residents. I worked with varying dietary restrictions and continued my strong interest in nutrition. After several months, I finally realized what I wanted to be when I grew up. A dietitian.

I quickly looked up nearby programs and enrolled within days at a local college. I will graduate in Spring of 2011, and following an internship, I'll be a proud member of the American Dietetic Association. But for now...I'd love to assist you on your show.

What else makes me tick? I drive a minivan named Hot Red Speed and a sassy Italian scooter named Vivianna. I keep roller skates and knee socks with me at all times for an impromptu spin around the cul de sac. I'm training for a marathon. Natural crunchy peanut butter makes me swoon. I have a mannequin torso in my living room.

What do I bring to the [prep] table? A passion for healthfully prepared foods with minimal processing. An avid interest in bettering my technique. And a blank-slate attitude where it comes to learning from you.

I hope you'll consider using my services as your eager assistant. I think we'd make a great team.

Sincerely,

I omitted the brain damage and my gluten fussiness. I figure both will inevitably come up sooner or later in class. I've gotta leave something to keep him on his toes...