Big Girl Undies

” Your Chili was so good I don’t know whether to kiss you or slap you in the face to restore order to the world.”

-Gluten Free guy in the Month long Intensive on his second bowl of Cincinnati Chili

In brief. Comfort food aplenty. Spaghetti and Meatballs, sauteed Kale, Lime and Cilantro Chicken, yada yada yada….

But the Chili was good. Yes it was. Sweet and delish.

So today was full of text messages I wish I could take back and some I want to save because they are that funny, but mostly I ran from that sad bus all day. There didn’t seem to be a song I could play, a person I could talk to, a food I could eat, or a picture I could love enough to shake these stupid blues. This 48 hour thing is horse shit. I guess you just miss someone until you don’t. And then what? But I am learning the cyclical nature of the whole beast. It only ever lasts half an hour. Ride it out and it will move through, I found.

Today was a myriad of musical offerings. In the kitch, I mean. Ice Cube, Eminem, Aphex Twin, Trampled By Turtles, Skynard, Sex Pistols, Amy Grant, Glee, Janet Jackson, Butthole Surfers, etc. It never really gets boring.

Today because of my cooking I was proposed to three times and propositioned twice and winked at a few times. I like the winks the best. The redhead just waves. Actually that is the best. The waving. Freckles around the eyes get me every time.

Every time.

It’s really time to put on big girl undies and quit this boo-hoo stuff. I am really lucky. I have awesome comrades and even better besties. I have a great fam and I love to have fun. Too much. All the time. I’m good at things and I’m easy on the eyes.

Applying big girl undies? Now.

Maybe I should just go on that date. Maybe I just need to be treated to something.

Tomorrow should be an interesting day of cooking. Boss man leaves early and it is us! Just us! Little Sous Chef and her cohorts. We will rock it. We will make Chef Ron proud.

And we will sing and have fun and say tremendously dirty things to each other.

Because that’s how we roll at Larry Hall Kitch.Image

“What do I do when they all fade?”, she said. ” Do I imagine them there or do I forget?”
She said… ” Each one was a deliberate moment of touchingnd each was a promise.” 
She said…” Each is a hand print of eloquent love, of raw want, and of maps to new worlds.”
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