"Give me the music and food olive, oil else!"

Many, many times I do things for many, many reasons that confound me.  I then spend many, many minutes circling the space in my head trying to understand myself.  Many, many mysteries; many, many clues… not so many answers.

I have stayed away from In My Monet.  Sort-of on purpose.

I am an odd little creature; I accept this, but sometimes I defy so many concepts for the sake of scouring the territory of the topic myself, concluding my own opinion… that I often defy myself as well.  It’s as if I’m determined to not conform to anything- including my own desires or inclinations.  This, I used to call self-sabotage.  I claimed to be a self-sabotage artist- a good one, in fact.  But, I don’t want to be that anymore (if I ever truly was one).  Is it because I’m defying my own assertion?  Am I now refusing the label I gave myself because I am defiant and hate labels, or is it because I want what I want and don’t want to prevent anymore.

Circling.  Circling.

One other reason I may have stayed away from In My Monet is that I have been mad at January.  January is not to blame, of course.  I have been the reason my energy is ‘off’.  I couldn’t figure it out… it took all month.  What a waste of time, huh?  To figure out what is wrong constantly as opposed to trying a new approach.  What an idiot.  I kept thinking, “Why aren’t you itching to write?  Is it because of this organizational mode that's taken over my life?  Is it because I think I have to and that makes me not want to?”  Then, I realize that I am organizing my whole life because it is January and I want the year to be grande.  I’m getting things in order for enjoyment, that’s all.  And then, and this is basic… embarrassingly basic, I turned the music on. 

I have this environment that I’ve set up that I think reflects Nick and me.  It’s cozy for me, creatively inspiring and the energy is positive and loving.  Music is a huge part of that.  The music is often sad and tragic, but that makes me happy inside somehow and triggers a lot of what I write about.  Sometimes these sad songs show what can come out of hardship.  They were created from an experience of something sad and now exist as a piece of poetry that shows brilliant aspects of humanity.  Turning the music on and lighting my candles, staying in my home, those are the things I was missing.  It is so obvious I can’t understand why it took me so long to realize my setting was lost.

And, being fair and not so dramatic, it wasn't a huge thing.  It was the difference between things being great and things being spectacular.  That's fair.

But, I’m here now, having felt this itch in a major way.  February is winking at me.  Tomorrow the month of love begins.  It’s always been my favorite.  My mom always treated our birthdays as big deals and I love that she did because it feels so good.  Celebrating YOU.  “Yay, me!” you say inside.  People give you sweet wishes and sing songs on your voice mail.  I think birthdays are a big, big event and will continue that tradition.  I follow only the traditions I like.  That‘s one of them.

My mom used to tell me every year that she and dad brought me home from the hospital, after I was born on the 11th, on Valentine’s Day and that it was the sweetest gift they could imagine.  I thought that was so cool.  I was their box of chocolates.  I was their “dozen roses”.  No, not a dozen, I was their 11 roses.  I used to almost hold my breath through the story I was so thrilled about being the treasure.  I got balloons in elementary school with stuffed teddy bears serving as weights below them.  In kindergarten I got a birthstone ring of amethyst.  I still have that in my jewelry box.  I don’t understand it when people say they don’t want to celebrate their birthday.  It sounds like such a knock to the self.  I always think, “That’s too bad.  You deserve it.  What does “old” have to do with it?  Life is about so much more than young or old.”  I mean, really.  So, you turned 30… big woop… don’t be such a wimp.  Give yourself credit where credit is due.  30 is a fabulous accomplishment.  31 is a year better.  I’ll be 31 soon and I’m gonna tear it up!  Life just keeps getting better and better.

Nick called a bit ago, before I sat down to my lunch of a big scrumptious salad, and asked me what I was up to.  I said, “I’m petting my grapes.”  I wash, dry, and cut in half red grapes to put in my salad.  It is true that I pet them as I dry them.  I appreciate my food.  They are such a beautiful color, more purple than red, and are like the gems of Earth.  I have Amethysts scattered in my salad.  All fruit is that to me.  I feel like candy sucks in comparison. How can you improve on fruit?  The only reason people want candy and candy bars is because they are addicted to them.  Otherwise, they would realize that they taste like poop compared to a strawberry or a big naval orange.  What can top a raspberry?  Nothing.  No thing man makes can compete with the raspberry.  Oh, and the fact that they are good for the body, and don’t cause obesity and disease is the bonus feature.

As I was petting the grapes I wondered, “Do Americans realize they are killing themselves with what they eat?  Do they read the literature that is printed?  Do they feel the difference in signals from their bodies?  Do they even care?”  I found it ironic that so many parents take such care with their children, trying to prevent any harm from coming their way.  Yet, they hand them a Sprite or Coca-Cola with a hamburger & French fries.  It befuddles me.  I think, “It can’t be that they don’t care that the food they just gave their child is actually dangerous for their bodies.  It can’t be that they are too lazy to prepare nutritious food for their offspring.  What is it, then?”  To risk offense, my answer is Ignorance. 

Food is the most powerful drug you can put into your body.  It either creates or destroys once digested.  Look around if proof is needed.  The human race is starting to look weird.  In Wal-Mart societies, where Burger King and Taco Bell are the food source, people look strange.  And that’s not meant to be judgmental.  It’s meant to be purely observational.  The junk food is causing things like diabetes and cancer… and also morphing facial features, causing raspy breathing, and causing immobility.  Should so many have to rely on a zooming wheel chair with a basket attached?  No.  Those should be reserved for the unfortunate case of a disability like an amputee or something like that.  And it is not mean to say so.  This country is way, way too P.C.  It’s common sense and it’s disgraceful.  It’s no different than sucking on a cigarette, except it’s worse to me.  Eating junk constantly and slurping on a Big Gulp is more disgusting than smoking.  That’s a personal opinion.  Those addicted to Diet Coke, who just have to have one, make me cringe and I think “weak.”  Knowledge about food is what a person owes their body and their children’s bodies.  Prepping kids to expect a French fry and not a green bean… sinful.  The kids don’t know any better yet.  They are learning from their parents and watching their parents and expecting that their parents would only give them the best.  And, unfortunately, that’s not what is happening because the parent finds it more convenient to rely on fast food and is okay with being seduced by a commercial featuring a Whopper instead of learning about real food.  It’s The Ugly Truth.  And, one day the kid grows up and will either have to combat the damage done and start at ground zero with Food 101 or they start pill popping because the commercial right after the Whopper commercial featured some prescription drug made from some giant pharmaceutical company that instructs the viewer to ask their doctor for their brand pill.  “Do you have indigestion?  Is burping causing you to be embarrassed in a crowd?  Ask your doctor for Drug X!!”  Cue the small itty-bitty voice in the background as the newly burp-free lad skips through a field of grass, sunshine beaming: “ May cause depression, suicidal thoughts, hair loss, stroke and heart failure.”  It’s genius, really.  The junk food makes you feel awful, the Drug Company promises a solution.  Both kill you.  And they make big bucks from it in the process.  Works for them!      

Recently, I have noticed that some are expecting this epidemic to be cleared up by the government.  They are saying it should be illegal to advertise McDonald's to kids or to serve these foods.  I say, “Get real.”  WE should be smart enough to know better.  WE should want better for ourselves and eat better food on our own, not because it is forbidden.  It’s a cop out. 

I think, “You are entitled to everything you want in this life.  But YOU are responsible for making it happen for YOU.”  This is a liberating perspective.  At once, blame and guilt take a hike.  “It’s all up to me?  I’m the only one who is going to make me happy and healthy?  Oh.”

We are pathetic now.  We depend on others to tell us everything, not read and research for ourselves.  We are afraid to be offended.  We have contests and sports now that only have winners… as if children will crumble if they lose.  As much or more is gained from losing as it is winning.  We are facilitating all these things.  Kids kill themselves now if they are bullied at school.  They have no coping mechanisms.  They haven’t been taught how to be OK when things aren’t perfect for them.  Schools have shoot-outs now when some kids are treated as outsiders.  This is not normal and not invented.  This is because we baby each other to death in this country.  We are obsessed with pampering each other’s feelings.  No confidence can be gained when the world bends to every whim.  And we also teach that it is always another’s fault… “another’s responsibility to make YOU a happy, functional person.”  Excuse my language but that’s such a crock of shit.  We are letting down our kids and our society in general.  Personal responsibility went out the window and accusation & litigation came flying in.                     

I grew up in South Georgia so I know what it’s like to have the fast food alley and that’s about it.  I learned about food from Nick, who grew up eating in Tuscany, where even the idea of eating a cheeseburger will find you alone, pelted with tomatoes.  He exposed me to a world of natural and organic foods.  Thinking about the food, loving the food, and appreciating it like it’s personal art- this is what he gave me.  I picked it up from there and read a ton of material about food combining and basic nutrition and balancing a meal properly.  It has a huge impact on insulin levels and moods and well, everything!  Digestion, skin, mental clarity… it is all food related… rarely is it simply genetic. 

In Germany, I noticed the women.  I would jog from the hotel down the dirt roads cutting through fields and over wooden bridges crossing creeks.  I passed these older women on their bikes going to the market and then peddling back with their produce stemming from the baskets on their handle bars.  It was a beautiful thing to watch.  They really cared about fresh, wholesome food and put energy into making a wonderful meal for their family.  I passed them so often that week they started acknowledging me with a hello and a smile.  It was one of many things that changed my attitude toward food and its connection with my body and also my lifestyle. 

Fine food is a luxury in life.  And, fine food is sometimes remarkably basic.  Tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, basil… a noodle or two!  Not so many, many ingredients.