There's a LOT going on in my life right now and most of it I can't talk about. Or I'm not willing to. Which means, GUESS WHAT? I've apparently grown a filter after all these years.
Here's the stuff I CAN share:
In therapy I'm working through the fact that I'm not necessarily a GREAT mom, but I'm not a BAD mom either. I'm somewhere in the middle and I'm trying to make peace with the idea of that spectrum. I constantly need to remind myself that kids this awesome don't come from shitty moms.
[God] grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
I'm trying to write fiction about Colin, but it's just not happening for me at the moment. There's too much personal crap to wade through first, but I agree with the consensus: it's the book I need to finish first.
Trying to force myself to write led me to a recent epiphany that I'm not so much a writer, or a Brazilian waxer, or a slutty girlfriend, or a cook, or a hostess, or an urban farmer, or even a mom. What I really am - IN ALL THINGS - is an entertainer. It's how I do verbs and blowjobs and rainbow birthday cake all in the same day - I get off on making other people happy. It's a bit of a fetish for me, this thing.
So I've been thinking a lot about what this predilection MEANS for me. What does it mean for this blog? Or for my writing career (which is totally in the shitter given I'm not, actually, you know, WRITING). I've honestly been worried that maybe I'm just losing my creativity altogether.
But then I come home and make dinner and my creativity explodes all over the kitchen. I'm beginning to think food is my art. For right now, it's certainly my medium of choice. And cooking has always been my love language. When all else fails me, there's always dinner. It's my only reliable source of redemption. So I'm thinking I should probably write more about it.
What I'm saying is that I need to start a food blog, but I'm not sure what to call it or what to do with it. I'm tempted to just write up everything I cook. That's as simple as it gets and would be at least five posts a week. I just need to fix my camera so I can take pictures. I couldn't promise it would be even remotely Pioneer Woman-like because all that photography takes FOREVER, but it would be interesting nonetheless, methinks.
I also need to come up with a name for it. I wanted MyCrazyKitchen or ManicKitchen, but MandaFeast is the best I've got so far. I'm open to suggestion. Any ideas?
Speaking of entertaining, we're having another WEEEEEEENIE ROAST this Friday. We're trying to have them on a monthly basis until it starts raining again. If you know me IRL and didn't get the invite, you're still invited! 6PM. Just show up.
HOWEVER, I can't drink too much this weenie roast because GUESS WHAT WE'RE DOING ON SATURDAY!?!!??
No seriously. You'll NEVER. EVER. guess. Let's just say it involves these sexy shoes Joel bought me:
A month ago we accidentally did an eight mile hike and I was, all, THAT WASN'T SO BAD! So that apparently turned into a 16 mile round-trip overnight hike in the gorge this coming Saturday.
Camping, you guys.
WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH AMANDA!?!?!
The only real question is whether I pack my makeup bag or my .357 magnum. They weigh about the same amount and I still haven't decided which is more vital.
Also? Whose skinny legs are those with the giant feet? Because they CLEARLY aren't mine. Not possible.
Anyway, it's summer so we went to the coast on Monday.
The coast liked us so much that it wouldn't let us leave, so we stayed the night at the very. most. awesome. hotel in Astoria. (The Commodore! Seriously! Feast your eyes on the magically restored decor!!!)
The next morning we had coffee at the shop in the hotel lobby, which was equally magical.If money were no object and I could live anywhere in the world right now, I'm pretty sure I'd choose Astoria. It's like Santa Cruz, only the people who work there can actually afford to live there, so the neighbors talk less about their retirement plans and more about the halibut.
Shut up! I still haven't decided how I'm casting my vote this election. SO BITE ME.
All I know is that it's summer; I'm officially an Oregonian; none of my chickens are laying eggs; the tree in our chicken coup has THE MOST DELICIOUS PEACHES I HAVE EVER EATEN IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE and my tomatoes are almost red.
I can't really think of anything more beautiful.