"The Fair closed last night. It's the end of Summer." Every year I hear this phrase repeated on the local news broadcast. For some reason, it always makes me irrationally annoyed. My theory has always been that it is NOT the end of Summer, at least not according to any calendar I've ever owned. If people choose to make it be the end of their Summer...well, that's entirely up to them. But when I heard that inevitable phrase this morning, something felt different. I found myself silently acknowledging the hidden truth behind it. Why? Because this Summer has been an emotional roller coaster for me, with a very clear beginning and a very clear end.
In review...
My daughter, my only child, one of my best friends, moved to New York City to begin a new and challenging life and career. While I am so very excited for and proud of her, I keep wondering if and when the day will come when I will wake up in the morning and not miss her. Or at least not miss her so much that my chest hurts, I see other people whose children have lived elsewhere and have come back to Buffalo, and I know the happiness that they are feeling. But I don't kid myself that it is a happiness that I will ever feel. Look, it took Buffalo 100 years to rise into one of the great cities of our country and then decline into a national joke. I am so proud and happy that we are on the rise again, but I just don't think it will happen fast enough for someone in my daughter's profession. She is a chef. Can anyone guess how many new eateries we would have to add before we even come close to New York City or Boston? If she were in almost any other line of work, I would have hope. Right now, it all seems very permanent to me.
And speaking of New York City... I traveled with members of my Chorus to sing in various venues around Manhattan over the July 4th holiday. I will not go into detail about the performances, because I've already done that elsewhere (Five Days in July - making Miracles with Music Notes ). I will just say that traveling with these people, performing with these people, enduring with these people and celebrating with these people bolstered my faith in humanity. In a way that nobody or nothing else could have or probably ever will.
It dawns on me as I am composing this that the rest of my summer had a theme of health - my health, both mental and physical.
On the physical side, I was furiously battling some upper respiratory woes in a fight that had been going on since February. Lesson I've learned - specialists are called "specialists" for a reason. If you are really suffering and haven't gotten to the bottom of your problem after several visits to your general practitioner, then run -don't walk - to a specialist. What are you waiting for? Divine intervention? I also decided, after seeing some pictures of myself, that I had really just had it with my pudgy, bloated self. I didn't feel terrific. I certainly didn't look terrific. I decided to try a program that I had been reading about off and on for months called Whole30. Without going into the necessary copious detail needed to really understand it, Whole30 calls for eliminating foods that are known allergens and inflammatories from your diet for 30 days. It is really about discovering if food is the source of what is ailing you (it usually is), which particular food is ailing you (could be more than one food group) and the shocking discovery that so much of what we are sold in grocery stories - even so-called "healthy" grocery stores- is just plain bad for us sometimes to the point of almost qualifying as poison. I suspected it all along, but until I experienced feeling about 250% better after completing this 30 day program, all I can say is that I am determined to continue eating this way even though it takes a lot of planning and cooking on the weekends and even though I'm pretty sure it will be even more difficult to execute during the winter months. No wonder Europe doesn't want anything to do with our food. Amazing!!
On the mental side, I've really been exploring the major relationships in my life this summer. I don't have many of them any more, but the ones that I do have are pretty complex. It has been a process that started with my daughter making her permanent move to New York City and culminates with this post - although I would be pretty ignorant to think that relationships aren't continually changing - growing, shrinking, morphing, etc...
It started with identifying which relationships were even worth examining. You know, expending energy on evaluating someone who really adds nothing to your life might not be worth it. A person isn't necessarily valuable to you just because he or she isn't a detractor. (Before I go any further,... I am not talking about social media "friends" and other acquaintances here. I'm talking about truly major relationships created and built due to either blood, time, proximity, experience or any combination of these things.) So, over the course of this summer, I've thought about these special people in my life - the good aspects, the not-so-good, the downright infuriating stuff, and I've parsed them down into two groups.
- The "Time for Radical Change" group
If someone contributes a whole lot more bad than good to me and my mental well-being, it's time to create some distance from that person. I've heard the term "toxic" relationship being used in print. That's way too general for my liking. If two people have any kind of history together, their interactions are usually much more complex than that. No relationship is all bad or all good, unless you're living in some sort of magical fairy world. If it's not possible to physically cut the ties for some reason, then I have to learn how to mentally distance myself from that person. I'm not sure yet just how I will accomplish this or if I will even be successful at all, but one thing's for sure: if it's coming down to my mental health versus this person's mental health, I'm choosing to fight for my own.
- Relationships worth fighting for. This was the easy category to identify.
My daughter. I know that long-distance relationships really can't be the same as the relationships we have with people in our own back yard. What I have to do is to find a way to be done mourning the "back yard" relationship I had with her and move on to the next phase. She is, as I said before, one of my best friends - the happy byproduct of successfully helping our children grow into adults. Social media, for better or for worse, will be our ally, as will text messaging and e-mails. I will be vigilant in my efforts to keep our lines of communication open, and our visits to the "Big Apple" will be highly valued, and every minute will count.
My husband. What I have come to realize over this Summer is that he is struggling to adapt just like me. Three months ago, I wouldn't have thought so. We just returned from a trip to Toronto. I had insisted that the trip not be about my birthday. Mostly because I don't care that much about my birthday any more. While we were there, though, it was clear that his priority was that I have a good time. For my birthday and just simply for me. Not all of the plans worked out as anticipated, but what spoke the loudest to me was that there actually were plans. I loved that more than anything. What I came away with is that we will have to grow into our empty nest. We cannot just snap our fingers and - viola! - everything works. I'm not sure why I ever thought it would be that easy.
My friends. What I learned over this Summer is that, as with my daughter, just like long-distance relationships can't pretend to be backyard relationships, so too, backyard relationships can't thrive and grow if they're treated like long-distance relationships. To me, they're like a flower bed - in your "back yard" (get it?). You can't water and weed them through the computer or telephone. Now of course, it's really just not that black and white all the time - is it? But if the effort is there, the garden will flourish. There may be a lot more weeds at some times than others, but as long as the weeds aren't allowed to overtake the flowers, everything will be OK.
Maybe the end of the Fair is the end of Summer. I didn't even go to the Fair this year. The Greek Festival has often been hailed as the beginning of Summer. I didn't go to that either. This is our life. Artificial beginnings and endings have a habit of psyching us all out. Don't buy into it. Try creating your own beginnings and endings and see where they take you.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Monday, August 10, 2015
August 10, 2015 Not a Bad Weekend
Checking in today with good news. We had a nice, confrontation-free weekend. Of course we were apart all day, both days and only met up at dinnertime. Rather than analyzing what that might mean, I'll just accept it. Because...... the last "episode" occurred on a weeknight....
Breathe... and one day at a time. I am very happy that we are going to Toronto for two days, on a weekend that coincidentally falls on my birthday. I am really not comfortable with the idea that this trip is "for my birthday". Bill keeps teasing me that it is. In my mind, it is NOT. We try to go to Toronto at least once a summer, and the summer is rapidly disintegrating. The 22-23rd just happens to be the weekend of which both of us have no other commitments. This is not a milestone birthday, so I feel really uncomfortable thinking of this getaway as a birthday trip, He will persist, though, because that way he gets to paint me as the self-centered jerk - at least that's how I feel when he refers to it as a "birthday trip".
<Sigh>....... one thing is for sure. We are staying in a very cool hotel, and if it's the same type of room as last time, the room is also very cool. I had the misfortune of getting my period the day we arrived last time. A crushing disappointment, to say the least. We had better make up for that misfortune this time around - bring on the wild night!
Breathe... and one day at a time. I am very happy that we are going to Toronto for two days, on a weekend that coincidentally falls on my birthday. I am really not comfortable with the idea that this trip is "for my birthday". Bill keeps teasing me that it is. In my mind, it is NOT. We try to go to Toronto at least once a summer, and the summer is rapidly disintegrating. The 22-23rd just happens to be the weekend of which both of us have no other commitments. This is not a milestone birthday, so I feel really uncomfortable thinking of this getaway as a birthday trip, He will persist, though, because that way he gets to paint me as the self-centered jerk - at least that's how I feel when he refers to it as a "birthday trip".
<Sigh>....... one thing is for sure. We are staying in a very cool hotel, and if it's the same type of room as last time, the room is also very cool. I had the misfortune of getting my period the day we arrived last time. A crushing disappointment, to say the least. We had better make up for that misfortune this time around - bring on the wild night!
Thursday, August 6, 2015
House Rules
I really should post an entry on days when things are going well. Monday was a good day. Tuesday was good until approximately 9:00PM or so when, in the interest of sharing, I told Bill about some of my social plans for the what remains of the summer. You see, I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I'm told that I "don't tell him anything". I was also accused on Tuesday night of "yelling at him all the time." Hmmm.... what reason could I possibly have to yell at him, I wonder? Why would I want to hesitate about telling him things? It couldn't possibly have to do with the fact that anything I tell him that doesn't directly involve him is met with mockery, insults or incessant grilling and critiquing...
To sum things up, here are our current house rules
Husband:
- does not clean up dishes after any meal and hasn't since he started working in the metal shop presumably because he was always "beat". He no longer works in the metal shop. Hasn't for months. This along with never, EVER putting things back where he found them,.
- Plans random activities every weekend with male friend, whenever he isn't sewing insulated blankets. Informs wife of his activities on a "need to know" basis. All she needs to know is that he's rarely around on weekends, He does usually show up for dinner and evening activities. I'll give him that much. And if I make plans for both of us, he's there.
- takes care of household tasks and chores on an "as needed" or "emergency" basis. IE - one of his acquaintances was coming over last night, and he was frantically vacuuming and throwing clutter into bags to be hidden.
- if the wife says anything that he isn't 100% happy with or that he thinks may lead to something that he won't be happy with, he feels entitled to the use of swearing and nasty name-calling. His idea of an ounce of prevention? This behavior is usually followed by an extended period of nit-picking every move she makes.
- randomly intersperses periods of light-heartedness, joking and generosity into all of the above so as to keep the wife off balance at all times. During these periods is when sex usually occurs, which makes the wife wonder about his motivations.
Wife:
- cooks and cleans up after because the alternative is to eat out all the time which is expensive and unhealthy. After a few years of picking up after husband and putting things away, she became totally discouraged and not only stopped picking up after him but lapsed into his patterns of bad behavior.
- Engages in one outside activity that is very important to her - important enough to put up with the mockery, insults and critiquing he give her. Has gotten to the point where she plans activities with friends, tells him, then thumbs her nose at him when he fusses about it. No point in even trying to be pleasant or diplomatic.
- now feels justified in saying what's on her mind as it comes in to her mind. Otherwise, she will be accused of "not telling him things".
- No longer holds back her anger when he degenerates into the swearing and name-calling and sometimes responds in kind. She knows that it's wrong, but in the heat of the moment, she doesn't care.
- has decided that if she is such a crashing disappointment as a wife, she might as well respect herself by sticking up for herself when arguments start. She knows and admits that she is not perfect. Too bad he can't do the same.
- will continue to go along with the sex as long as it continues to be better than self-gratification. So far, so good. They always say men are only good for one thing. Too bad they feel the need to live down to that saying.
Those are our house rules as of today. So the question to be answered is this - are we life partners or are we roommates with benefits? And what happens when you can't tell the difference anymore?
To sum things up, here are our current house rules
Husband:
- does not clean up dishes after any meal and hasn't since he started working in the metal shop presumably because he was always "beat". He no longer works in the metal shop. Hasn't for months. This along with never, EVER putting things back where he found them,.
- Plans random activities every weekend with male friend, whenever he isn't sewing insulated blankets. Informs wife of his activities on a "need to know" basis. All she needs to know is that he's rarely around on weekends, He does usually show up for dinner and evening activities. I'll give him that much. And if I make plans for both of us, he's there.
- takes care of household tasks and chores on an "as needed" or "emergency" basis. IE - one of his acquaintances was coming over last night, and he was frantically vacuuming and throwing clutter into bags to be hidden.
- if the wife says anything that he isn't 100% happy with or that he thinks may lead to something that he won't be happy with, he feels entitled to the use of swearing and nasty name-calling. His idea of an ounce of prevention? This behavior is usually followed by an extended period of nit-picking every move she makes.
- randomly intersperses periods of light-heartedness, joking and generosity into all of the above so as to keep the wife off balance at all times. During these periods is when sex usually occurs, which makes the wife wonder about his motivations.
Wife:
- cooks and cleans up after because the alternative is to eat out all the time which is expensive and unhealthy. After a few years of picking up after husband and putting things away, she became totally discouraged and not only stopped picking up after him but lapsed into his patterns of bad behavior.
- Engages in one outside activity that is very important to her - important enough to put up with the mockery, insults and critiquing he give her. Has gotten to the point where she plans activities with friends, tells him, then thumbs her nose at him when he fusses about it. No point in even trying to be pleasant or diplomatic.
- now feels justified in saying what's on her mind as it comes in to her mind. Otherwise, she will be accused of "not telling him things".
- No longer holds back her anger when he degenerates into the swearing and name-calling and sometimes responds in kind. She knows that it's wrong, but in the heat of the moment, she doesn't care.
- has decided that if she is such a crashing disappointment as a wife, she might as well respect herself by sticking up for herself when arguments start. She knows and admits that she is not perfect. Too bad he can't do the same.
- will continue to go along with the sex as long as it continues to be better than self-gratification. So far, so good. They always say men are only good for one thing. Too bad they feel the need to live down to that saying.
Those are our house rules as of today. So the question to be answered is this - are we life partners or are we roommates with benefits? And what happens when you can't tell the difference anymore?
Monday, August 3, 2015
A New Direction for This Blog August 3, 2015
Greetings to all who are still with me on this blog!
A few weeks ago, I started a new blog that I am actively promoting on social media. I am going through what I will call an "interesting" phase in my life right now, and I've decided that I really need to journal my feelings. So, this blog is going to take the shape of a journal, and if you don't know me personally, I will be using names and places that are a part of my personal life, and I won't be bothering with extra descriptions. If that doesn't appeal to you, then get out now; otherwise....
Mandy moved to New York City in June. My only child is gone for the foreseeable future. Please everyone, stop telling me what a great place it is to visit and how so many young people are returning to Western New York. And, above all, PLEASE stop asking me about when I think she'll come here for a visit! She just started a new job, for Christ's sake!! We have a visit planned for the end of October, which, today might as well be the end of never..
I've decided that Bill is just as mixed up as I am about our empty nest. The problem is, he won't talk about it. So I can't tell if he's still interested in me as his wife and partner, or if he just wants a roommate that cooks. He seems to only be capable of thinking in terms of "me" and "I" rather than "us" and "we"- case in point: this birthday party at the Manor House in September. When I told him that we might have been been back-doored into sleeping there on Saturday AND Sunday night, his response was "I have to go to work in the morning!!" These words instantly infuriated me, and I replied "Well what the hell do you think I have planned for Monday morning? Sitting around eating bon-bons"??? He is like this about everything. It's like I'm some vague after-thought for him. Without a dependent child in the mix, I guess he has no reason to think about me at all. Today my alarm malfunctioned and I was running behind. Now, he has made it clear that he rolls in to work at 8:30 or 9:00 and is the first one there. I have to be downtown by 7:30. So, I'm scrambling around, run downstairs.... and there he is at the stove, making HIS breakfast. This is not the time he usually makes it, but he decides that today would be a good day to do so,...... because why not make Tina more late than she already is????
My choices, as I see them right now, are to either try to bring him around or to just start doing my own thing without him, just as he seems to be doing. Of course, that is not as easy as it sounds. Social media is flooded with people posting about vacations and picnics and whatnot, which involves (duh!) groups of people - as in someone other than me, myself and I. I am just out of ideas on what to do about this, and maybe writing about it will help me to not turn into a complete basket case.
My mother consciously chose the path of the Lone Wolf. For quite a few years, it seemed to work for her - until she died bitter and lonely. Which makes me wonder if she really chose the path or was forced down it by circumstance. At least while my father was alive, she had a partner who seemed remotely interested in her. So, in a way, she was better off than me. This thought does NOT make me feel better.
A few weeks ago, I started a new blog that I am actively promoting on social media. I am going through what I will call an "interesting" phase in my life right now, and I've decided that I really need to journal my feelings. So, this blog is going to take the shape of a journal, and if you don't know me personally, I will be using names and places that are a part of my personal life, and I won't be bothering with extra descriptions. If that doesn't appeal to you, then get out now; otherwise....
Mandy moved to New York City in June. My only child is gone for the foreseeable future. Please everyone, stop telling me what a great place it is to visit and how so many young people are returning to Western New York. And, above all, PLEASE stop asking me about when I think she'll come here for a visit! She just started a new job, for Christ's sake!! We have a visit planned for the end of October, which, today might as well be the end of never..
I've decided that Bill is just as mixed up as I am about our empty nest. The problem is, he won't talk about it. So I can't tell if he's still interested in me as his wife and partner, or if he just wants a roommate that cooks. He seems to only be capable of thinking in terms of "me" and "I" rather than "us" and "we"- case in point: this birthday party at the Manor House in September. When I told him that we might have been been back-doored into sleeping there on Saturday AND Sunday night, his response was "I have to go to work in the morning!!" These words instantly infuriated me, and I replied "Well what the hell do you think I have planned for Monday morning? Sitting around eating bon-bons"??? He is like this about everything. It's like I'm some vague after-thought for him. Without a dependent child in the mix, I guess he has no reason to think about me at all. Today my alarm malfunctioned and I was running behind. Now, he has made it clear that he rolls in to work at 8:30 or 9:00 and is the first one there. I have to be downtown by 7:30. So, I'm scrambling around, run downstairs.... and there he is at the stove, making HIS breakfast. This is not the time he usually makes it, but he decides that today would be a good day to do so,...... because why not make Tina more late than she already is????
My choices, as I see them right now, are to either try to bring him around or to just start doing my own thing without him, just as he seems to be doing. Of course, that is not as easy as it sounds. Social media is flooded with people posting about vacations and picnics and whatnot, which involves (duh!) groups of people - as in someone other than me, myself and I. I am just out of ideas on what to do about this, and maybe writing about it will help me to not turn into a complete basket case.
My mother consciously chose the path of the Lone Wolf. For quite a few years, it seemed to work for her - until she died bitter and lonely. Which makes me wonder if she really chose the path or was forced down it by circumstance. At least while my father was alive, she had a partner who seemed remotely interested in her. So, in a way, she was better off than me. This thought does NOT make me feel better.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
More Reaping
Have you ever felt like crap about a situation that you've found yourself in, and you think you've resolved it in your mind until you read something that completely undoes you? You think you're on the right path of resolution, then someone's perfectly innocent words just put a bulldozer right through it.
My summer sure started out in fantastic fashion. My trip to New York with my Chorus exceeded all expectations. The only thing wrong with it was that it was only 5 days. Five days, and then I had this gaping, yawning hole to fill for the rest of July and August. On our last day there, a general movement toward getting back home had gripped the group. I was unreasonably annoyed by it to the point where I had to count to 10 more than once in order to keep myself from saying something I would regret. I know why I felt this way. It was simple. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want the best part of my summer to end because that would mean that the rest of the summer would have to begin.
Now that I am writing this down, it sounds pathetic, but sometimes the truth ain't pretty. But there it is. So, I came home, and I put one foot in front of the other, and I tried to block the coming weeks out of my head. Then, yesterday I got an invite to a party on Facebook. It's one of those parties where you are intrigued but you're afraid you won't know anyone there except the host. So I asked another invitee, a woman around my age, what her thoughts were about attending. Her answer? "Saturdays are prime 'home and family' time for us during the summer. I probably won't go.'" A perfectly legitimate and forthright answer. Yet, it reverberated through me to the point that I felt it necessary to write about it.
I wonder what it's like to know that no matter what sort of week you've had, there will always be one day that you can count on to be good? "Prime Home and Family Day", to be exact. I think the closest I've ever come to experiencing that was when my mother was still alive and we went to her house for dinner once a week. I miss that. I didn't realize how much I missed it until now. I miss the idea that there are people in the world who care enough about you to carve out a specific time every week for you, and you care enough to do the same for them. Sacrosanct time. I can't help but wonder if I will ever know what that feels like again.
Which leads me back to the ever-present feeling that we reap what we sow in this life that we're given, and somehow I've come to deserve this current experience. What to do about it? It really isn't as easy as just "making it happen". People who've obviously done something right all these years, who already have their "Prime Home and Family Day" always say things like that, along with other unhelpful cliches like "visualize the goal, then work toward making it a reality", etc, etc. "Making it Happen" is tough when you have no idea where to begin, and worse, when you're not sure if you have anyone to "make it happen" with.
As for that intriguing party, I'm not going to ask anyone else if they're going. I don't want to hear any more answers like that first one. You're probably thinking "just go to it." Ok, and are you the type of person who just goes to parties where there's a 95% chance that you'll know absolutely nobody? Right. I didn't think so. It's pathetic. Like going to the movies by yourself. You sit there and try to convince yourself that you're brave and independent, and all along there's this little voice at the back of your head whispering "You're pathetic". And did I mention that the chances of my husband going are probably 95% negative?
So, I will resume the task of putting one foot in front of the other, and I will try not to think about the weeks of absolute nothingness that are stretched out in front of me. Maybe I need to stop reading Facebook so that I won't see the intriguing party invites that I won't accept, and I won't read about other people's family vacations. But then, if I were to stop reading Facebook, that would just be one more hole to fill. I don't need one more hole. I need people for whom I want to set aside "prime home and family" time. Maybe I can find the witch from Into the Woods, and I can give her the ingredients for her magic potion, and she can grant me my wish, and I can then find out that my wish isn't all that it was cracked up to be. Maybe there's a positive side to my current situation, and I just have to look for it. Or maybe not. Maybe it just is what it is. Yes, this is a truly pathetic post. Sometimes, we just have to get it out and get it down in words if we're to have any prayer of moving on.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
A New Face on an Old Friend
(If this seems like an homage to Janice Okun, it is. I didn't always agree with her reviews, but I loved reading them.)
The service, right from the start, was exemplary. The companion and I are experienced buffet aficionados, having run the gamut from spreads resembling something one might expect at the chuckwagon, to high-end extravaganzas offering those unpronounceable dishes that make me feel like the peasant that I am. Nothing puts one off like poor service at a buffet. Clear the plates, fill the coffee cups. Very simple. There were no issues here. The staff was very eager to please.
On to the main topic: food and drink. Our first observation was of a huge and impressive chalkboard menu of craft beers, IPAs and hard ciders. We reluctantly resisted the urge to indulge in a nontraditional Easter beverage and stuck with coffee. I know - boring. But bad coffee can ruin the Easter brunch experience, so I felt obligated to test it here. This coffee was better than average - not spectacular, but definitely more than adequate. As we made our way into the main buffet line, we were amused but appreciative of the piles of mixed plate sizes - everything from petite to manly. The presentation of these plates was oddly charming. This was a foreshadowing of the offerings to come, I suppose.
Salad lovers would be disappointed. Only one large bowl of basic green leaf lettuce salad was offered, with one choice of dressing - balsamic vinaigrette. However, there were quite a few other options for healthy eating. The yogurt with fruit and granola was delicious. Anyone who knows me well would be surprised to know that, upon coercion of the companion, I tried and enjoyed the smoked salmon and went back for seconds. Another healthy option was the offerings of the carving station, with a nice selection of lean turkey, ham and roast beef - all very well prepared. There was a disappointing lack of condiments offered for the turkey, though. Gravy is nice, but how about some cranberry mayo or relish? I am hesitant to offer an opinion on the vegetable medley, but I suppose if you enjoy spinach and yellow squash...... have at it!
On to the other highly enjoyable offerings. The basic breakfast items were all nicely cooked and seasoned - particularly the scrambled eggs. Knowing what I do about the egg mixture that most restaurants use for buffets, seasoning is critical, and TPHOTL hits it out of the park. The companion proclaimed his loaded omelet to be "really, really good". The pastry table offered a nice selection of muffins and danishes, but ... no bagels, toast or english muffins, so if you're looking to carbo-load on white flour bread products, you're in the wrong place. Another deviation for me - the grits with shrimp. I tried this for the shrimp and enjoyed it for both the shrimp and the grits. Being a northern girl, I can't testify to the authenticity of this dish, but - again - seasoning is key. I don't know what was in those grits, but it made them very good indeed. One downside was the sad offering of Belgian waffles. One serving tray of cold cut up waffles cannot be considered as an adequate substitute for a waffle station, in my opinion.
The lunch/dinner items were in the range of tasty to divine. My favorite was the seafood scampi which was an adventure in and of itself. Scampi with lobster on the first round, scampi with mussels on the second round. Who knows what was in there before my arrival and after my departure. Anyone who recalls with nostalgia the superb seafood offerings of Root Five will be happy to know that if this seafood scampi is any indication, TPHLTL should more than live up to its predecessor in that regard.
The companion saved his high praise for the cheesecake selection on the dessert table. In particular, he gushed over the red velvet cheesecake. Mind you, he comes from a long line of cheesecake lovers, so this might seem trivial to the reader, but it is high praise coming from him.
So there you have it. In summary, this is a superior brunch for the money ($24.95), may not be for everybody, but definitely bodes well for the success of their regular dinner menu.
4 stars out of 5
Best Dishes: Seafood Scampi, Omelets
Needs Work: Belgian Waffles, Green Salad Selection (perhaps a raw vegetable station would be a nice addition.)
Missing: White Bread "stuff", Children's menu. For future reference, parents: If you have small children, call ahead and ask. There were no chicken fingers, hot dogs or macaroni & cheese to be found at this brunch.
Missing but not Missed: Mayo-based salads. Who ever thought that picnic salads belonged on a brunch menu anyway?
I am looking forward to many enjoyable meals at this establishment!
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Tears, and ...... Timers?
Nobody told me about this part.
I fully realize at this point that every woman's peri-menopause experience is unique. As women, we listen to older women warning us about "the change" in ominous tones of voice. The focus of the warnings are usually on hot flashes and weight gain. My mother had hot flashes for years, but her emotions never seemed to get off-keel. I had night sweats for about a year, followed by off the charts hot flashes for about 9 months.
Then, I launched into crazy world.
I view 2014 as the lost year. Lost because when I wasn't insane from hot flashes, I was just plain insane. I feel like it was a non-stop series of crisises that blurred together. Absolutely everything felt like the end of the world to me. I was in reactionary mode every minute of every day. Looking back on that time, I think that the worst part of it was that I knew how I was acting and sounding, but I was like some sort of addict who just could not stop the bad behavior even though I desperately wanted to. When I wasn't acting crazy, I was profoundly sad and depressed because I felt so out of control. I finally gave in and asked for hormone therapy. Hallelujah! I started to regain my real life. I still sometimes feel twinges of insanity, but I think (hope.... pray...) that the crazy anger is gone.
STOP! Not so fast. That was NOT the end. I'm now dealing with a new issue which, I'm sure, will be seen as a welcome relief comparatively, but it is, nonetheless, baffling and sometimes downright embarrassing.
Tears. As children, we received the message loud and clear. Grownups don't cry. I think I saw my Mom cry once - and it was not even when my Dad died. So what happens when you suddenly develop this feeling that you are on the verge of bursting into tears, and you feel this way pretty much all the time. It started with me about two months ago. See, I should have known that the "feeling normal" stuff was too good to be true.
They talk about hair loss. Receding gums. Nobody talks about tears. I don't know - is this the opposite of what I was experiencing last year?
Don't get me wrong - I am so beyond relieved to have gotten a grip on my anger insanity. Comparatively speaking, this is nothing. But, it can definitely be embarrassing, which is why it took me two months to even write about it. I was hoping that it would go away. Not yet, I'm afraid.
By now, you're probably wondering where the timer comes in. I had a particular exercise in my piano book that was giving me fits. I finally thought I'd mastered it. I was really anxious to play it at my lesson (for about fifth and hopefully final time, I hoped!) and was proud of myself for not giving up on it. Well, one of the pitfalls of taking lessons with your best friend as the instructor is that you occasionally start talking and end up talking the lesson away. I think we have both gotten used to it as just an unavoidable fact of life, and I often told her that having me as a student was never going to make her rich. On this particular day, as I said, I really wanted to play this pesky exercise, but ... alas .... it turned out to be one of those days somehow .... and when I heard her timer go off signifying the end of our lesson time ....... well.... you guessed it. I remember staring straight ahead at the music and taking very deep breaths. I was afraid to even look at her. Somehow I regained my composure, but I drove home with tears rolling down my face. Now really... what a stupid thing to cry about!! I mean, really???? Really??? That may be the point at which I realized that this was the next "phase" of "the change" for me.
As I said, I am not complaining, because overall, I feel so much better than I did 8 or 10 or 12 months ago. I guess I am just sort of bewildered by it and, yes, afraid of embarrassing myself. Who knows how long THIS phase will last? I guess I'd better avoid K-Mart like the plague. There's no telling what the blue light specials could do to me.
I fully realize at this point that every woman's peri-menopause experience is unique. As women, we listen to older women warning us about "the change" in ominous tones of voice. The focus of the warnings are usually on hot flashes and weight gain. My mother had hot flashes for years, but her emotions never seemed to get off-keel. I had night sweats for about a year, followed by off the charts hot flashes for about 9 months.
Then, I launched into crazy world.
I view 2014 as the lost year. Lost because when I wasn't insane from hot flashes, I was just plain insane. I feel like it was a non-stop series of crisises that blurred together. Absolutely everything felt like the end of the world to me. I was in reactionary mode every minute of every day. Looking back on that time, I think that the worst part of it was that I knew how I was acting and sounding, but I was like some sort of addict who just could not stop the bad behavior even though I desperately wanted to. When I wasn't acting crazy, I was profoundly sad and depressed because I felt so out of control. I finally gave in and asked for hormone therapy. Hallelujah! I started to regain my real life. I still sometimes feel twinges of insanity, but I think (hope.... pray...) that the crazy anger is gone.
STOP! Not so fast. That was NOT the end. I'm now dealing with a new issue which, I'm sure, will be seen as a welcome relief comparatively, but it is, nonetheless, baffling and sometimes downright embarrassing.
Tears. As children, we received the message loud and clear. Grownups don't cry. I think I saw my Mom cry once - and it was not even when my Dad died. So what happens when you suddenly develop this feeling that you are on the verge of bursting into tears, and you feel this way pretty much all the time. It started with me about two months ago. See, I should have known that the "feeling normal" stuff was too good to be true.
They talk about hair loss. Receding gums. Nobody talks about tears. I don't know - is this the opposite of what I was experiencing last year?
Don't get me wrong - I am so beyond relieved to have gotten a grip on my anger insanity. Comparatively speaking, this is nothing. But, it can definitely be embarrassing, which is why it took me two months to even write about it. I was hoping that it would go away. Not yet, I'm afraid.
By now, you're probably wondering where the timer comes in. I had a particular exercise in my piano book that was giving me fits. I finally thought I'd mastered it. I was really anxious to play it at my lesson (for about fifth and hopefully final time, I hoped!) and was proud of myself for not giving up on it. Well, one of the pitfalls of taking lessons with your best friend as the instructor is that you occasionally start talking and end up talking the lesson away. I think we have both gotten used to it as just an unavoidable fact of life, and I often told her that having me as a student was never going to make her rich. On this particular day, as I said, I really wanted to play this pesky exercise, but ... alas .... it turned out to be one of those days somehow .... and when I heard her timer go off signifying the end of our lesson time ....... well.... you guessed it. I remember staring straight ahead at the music and taking very deep breaths. I was afraid to even look at her. Somehow I regained my composure, but I drove home with tears rolling down my face. Now really... what a stupid thing to cry about!! I mean, really???? Really??? That may be the point at which I realized that this was the next "phase" of "the change" for me.
As I said, I am not complaining, because overall, I feel so much better than I did 8 or 10 or 12 months ago. I guess I am just sort of bewildered by it and, yes, afraid of embarrassing myself. Who knows how long THIS phase will last? I guess I'd better avoid K-Mart like the plague. There's no telling what the blue light specials could do to me.
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