Crawfish and Alligator. Yee Haw!
This weekend I went to a Memorial Day barbecue with a whole bunch of… um… “country folk”. The living room of the house it was hosted in had the stuffed carcasses of 3 deer heads, 2 boar heads, 1 black bear, and 1 mountain lion, all killed by the owner. There was also a polar bear he hunted and killed in his bedroom. One of the boars had a broken tooth from when it grabbed the guys arm and drug him up a hill before he could finally kill it. This was some serious shit.
There were also some interesting things to eat at this barbecue. Besides hamburgers, hotdogs, and smoked tri-tip, there were crawfish and alligator. I’ve never had crawfish or alligator so I was excited to try it. The alligator was tenderized and deep fried, so it was not hard to want to try it. When I did, I thought it was pretty tasty. Pretty much tasted like really moist chicken to me.
The crawfish was ugly. It looked like a little bug. I tried to walk up to the table covered in crawfish and just pick one up like I knew what I was doing. I wanted to act casual. But I honestly couldn’t do it. They were too creepy looking. So like a baby, I had my husband break it apart for me and just hand me the meat.
It was okay. It tasted like shellfish. Definitely not worth looking into the beady eyes of the thing before consuming it. (Maybe if I was really hungry.) I could see eating the meat in a paella or jambalaya though.
I like that I’m willing to try new things. A few years ago I decided I wanted to branch out of my comfort zone with food and try new things. Since then I have tried foods like whole barbecued sardines, pho soup complete with the lining of a cow’s stomach (I think), seared ahi tuna, sushi, chili mangos, runny eggs, lattes, vodka tonics, and of course crawfish and alligator. I’ve discovered how wonderful vegetables taste as well. Ooh! and mushrooms. I’m sad it took me so long to try mushrooms. They’re wonderful. But the point is, there’s so much to discover. I’d like to try Vietnamese and Thai food too, as this seems to be pretty popular. Maybe Indian food. We’ll see what life brings about. I never know. And that’s what makes it an adventure: the not knowing what each day will hold.
-Tara
My Amazing Buddha Drawing
San Diego Museum of Art (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
This past weekend the San Diego Art Museum had a free family day and festival, so I drug my family out to it for a “cultural” experience. It was really just because I needed to get out and do something.
The last time I visited an art museum was in Denver. The Denver art museum was wonderful and inspired me more than I would have expected. I was hoping to have a similar experience in San Diego.
Once inside the museum, however, I quickly realized that it would not live up to my previous experience. You see, Denver had been full of amazing modern art, while San Diego was full of old boring art. Not interesting to me at all.
Luckily there was an art workshop going on where they taught us to draw a picture of Buddha with pastels. My whole family gave it a go (except the baby who decided that would be a good time to have a poop). I did nothing original with mine, just followed instructions, but it was really fun for me.
It made me realize I need more art in my life. I’d like to try a few mediums as well. Ceramics, drawing, sculpting, painting. I’ve never really explored art before. I’m going to try to fit this into my life somewhere.
It’s nice to be inspired. It feels good. It’s just another one of those things I need to break out of my rut to do.
For now, this is my truth.
-Tara
My Weight Loss Frenemy
Since having my wonderful baby, I have been faced with the hard truth that I have got to lose weight. At first this was easy, as there’s a certain amount of weight that comes off on it’s own from the natural purging one’s body does. But that doesn’t last long. Then there’s the excuse that I’m not allowed to work out for the first 6-8 weeks so that I don’t injure myself, that makes the personal effort I have to put forth minimal. But, having just had my six week check up, I am now at the point of no excuses. I am going to have to get off my butt and start moving. I am also going to have to watch what I eat more carefully.
Wii Fit (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
As a rule, I have been weighing in every Friday since the day of my delivery. I use my Wii Fit to do this daunting task. Now, the Wii fit is what I’d like to call my frenemy (friend-enemy). If you’ve ever used one you’ll know why. If you haven’t, let me explain. Basically it’s a bit mean. It will do things like pretend to forget your name if it’s been too long, or make your Mii look fatter if you’ve gained weight. It will also lecture you about eating well, and exercising more often. It will even prompt you to remind other registered Mii’s to work out. It’s not cruel, but it can be a bit pushy. Nevertheless it’s my only scale.
So tomorrow is my weigh in and I’m dreading it. I fear that my lack of discipline will catch up with me. I have, in the past, had the discipline to lose 40 lbs and keep it off for 6 years. And it was a decision that I have never ever regretted. Clothes fit me nicely, I wasn’t embarrassed when I was naked, I looked good in a swimsuit. I felt spry and agile. These are all good things. I’m going to have to keep these things in mind, because I need the motivation. I don’t want to be fat. I hate being fat.
I have 20lbs to lose until I reach my goal. We’ll see what the Wii has to say about that tomorrow.
Until then, I’m gonna try not to eat the chocolate chips in the pantry with a spoon of peanut butter.
-Tara
So, I Hear You’re Gay.
Dawson’s Creek (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Last night my husband and I watched the Dawson’s Creek Series finale. (Oh yes we did.) I saw it when it first aired years ago, and cried for 30 minutes afterward. This was partly because it was a really sad finale, but partly because I felt like I was losing some of my high school friends forever. (Don’t judge me.)
My husband had missed it way back then, so when he saw it on the Netflix cue, he thought he’d give it a go.
Well, this final episode takes place 5 years in the future for the characters and so they are all adults with careers and such. Well, two of the characters have become a gay couple (Jack and Pacey’s brother Doug), and Doug “coming out” is part of the subplot.
This made me think, “Where do I stand on homosexuality?” I used to think I knew, but a lot has changed in my life. I no longer look at people the same way. So, I asked myself the question and here’s what I’ve come up with.
I don’t really care if someone prefers their own sex. I really have no political or religious stance that is. But I have to admit that the thought of two men having sex is gross to me. But then again, thinking of two obese or ugly people having sex grosses me out too. But because gay men are defined almost entirely by who they have sex with, I can’t help but picture two men having sex when I learn they are gay. I don’t like this image being forced into my mind. I rarely think of ugly heterosexual people having sex, because they’re not wearing a sign saying, “I like it doggy style.”
Two women having sex doesn’t seem as gross to me, although I’m still not entirely comfortable with it. Don’t know why this is different.
I feel I can relate to being judged for my sexuality. I had my first child at the age of sixteen. There’s nothing like walking around a pregnant teen, especially when everyone you know is a Christian. It’s like wearing a sign that says, “I had premarital sex with my boyfriend, so I’m a sinner.” I remember a woman introducing me to her daughter as a 17 year old mother, like it was my label.
I can only imagine it being like this for a homosexual. They have a big label slapped on them that declares this really intimate thing about them (that most of society feels will land them in hell), and this all before they say hello. It must be difficult to be known. Then there’s expectations that they’ll be good dressers, artsy, and really fun. I think this is sad as well. It’s like saying all black people look alike. They’re not just -people. I wouldn’t want to be treated like that.
So there you have it. That’s how I feel. It’s not something I’ve stewed on or something I will probably think about often, as the issue isn’t really in my life, but it’s nice to discover how I really feel, as opposed to how others have told me to feel about it.
-Tara
I Never Said I Wasn’t a Hypocrite
So, I have this problem. I hold back a whole segment of my truth for the sake of not being a hypocrite. I can’t admit to being or feeling something that I have disapproved of in another person. I feel that if I allow myself to feel that way, then I’m not allowed to feel disapproval towards anyone else for it. Why? Because how can I expect others to accept things about me that I can’t even accept about them. It wouldn’t be fair and I’d be a fool.
An example of this would be the time I admitted to my husband that I did, in fact, find other men attractive. When he was hurt by this, I told him to get his head out of the clouds and realize I’m a grown woman and it’s only natural. It didn’t mean anything about our relationship. I felt pretty good about opening my heart to him and being honest, as I want that to be the priority in our relationship. Yet, when he later shared that he thought a particular woman was attractive, it hurt me. I felt that I was not entitled to be hurt, as I had been upset that he was hurt. And so I wanted to push the emotion down and reason it out in my head. And I almost did. But then I realized that I’m not committed to anything but exposing my heart, so I told him I was hurt. He scoffed at my hypocrisy, and I said back to him, “I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite!”
I am hoping that I can begin to free myself from this boundary in my heart. I hope that I can let go of the mirror images that tell me I’m a fool for contradicting myself. I have to be okay with being a fool. I have to be okay with being a hypocrite. But I will not be okay with being a liar. I must remain in my one law: Exposing the truth about my heart in the moment… even if it doesn’t align with the standards I place on others. This is a hard one for me.
-In this moment, this is my truth.
Please Stop Talking. You’re boring.
Today is one of those days when everything is bothersome or annoying. This may be because I got very little sleep last night due to a special little guy in my life having the wiggles and needing to feed every half an hour.
It’s hard to be patient when I’m sleepy.
On that note, people are my biggest problem today. Particularly narrow minded people. More specifically, their narrow minded “open mindedness”. I can’t help but roll my eyes when someone is attacking another person for their beliefs, complaining that they’re narrow minded, when all the while they can’t think outside themselves to see the other person’s point of view at all! They can’t see that the only difference between themselves and the person they’re attacking is culture, and that they actually think just like each other.
This is annoying.
I need to think of a good quote to explain this phenomenon. Of course if I did, everyone who read it would think I was talking about the other guy.
Another problem: boring people. I always have such high hopes of being entertained when I’m about to meet up with people, and 9 times out of 10, I’m disappointed. Maybe my standards for entertainment are a bit high. I do live with a very eccentric man who is constantly interesting. Maybe this has desensitized me.
Hmm. I wonder if I’m boring? Maybe I put the pressure on everyone else to entertain, all the while I’m not pulling my own weight…
Nah. That’s not it. I’m totally interesting. In fact, I’m feeling much better just from writing this blog because I like to hear myself talk… or write. I’m totally cool.
However, to all you great thinkers, ignorant loud mouths, strong political types, and gossiping ninnies, please be quiet when I’m in a bad mood. In fact, it’d be nice if you just told me how great I am when we meet. If you sent me chocolate with a note to provoke a new thought, that’d be nice too. Better yet, get vulnerable and stop projecting who you’d like me to think you are. Definitely stop giving me advice. And in the future, if you have to woof shit, at least make it entertaining.
-Tara
Related articles
- Paint Me Some Common Sense! (cannonforhire.wordpress.com)
My Blog Affair
This Is My Affair (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
This blog is consuming my mind.
It’s such a simple concept this public journal. A place where I can speak my mind, expose my truth, and get feedback from complete strangers. Yet it makes me giddy.
It’s different than a book. Sometimes I want to write a book. I’ve been trying recently. I have the book all panned out. But when I sit down to write, all I can think about is my blog. Where I can get better pictures, thoughts I’m having that could be turned into posts, the comments of my followers, the posts I’ve already written.
When I talked to God today, I was telling him about my blog.
My blog feels alive to me. It moves and shifts with me, as it is a product of my emotions in the moment. I don’t have to commit to one thought or idea. I can just write something new every day.
This is something writing a book could never do for me. No. A book would be a permanent snapshot of only one moment in time. The difference between a home video and a reality TV show.
I’d hoped a book would be the key to a life of adventure. Travel, conferences, meeting new people, creating conversations. My blog was just a compliment. But now I see it as so much more. With my blog, I’m already in a conversation. Even if it’s just to the handful of people who are subscribed to me. I’m a part of this living organism that thrives on content. I like this . I like it a lot.
-In this moment, this is my truth.
-Tara
Related articles
- Be Paranoid: People are Talking about You (stirrup-queens.com)
- After the End of the Affair (woman2womanmagazine.com)
- Six ways blogging has changed my life (newfoundlandtraveller.wordpress.com)
Funhouse Mirrors
When I was in the fifth grade, my teacher wrote a quote on the board and asked us to copy it down in our journals. The quote read:
“I am not what I think I am. I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am.”
I remember the impact these words had on me. Even as a child, I could see that this was true in my life, and I thought it was profound. Now, as an adult, I can feel the curse of this truth. And it is the very thing I fight against on a daily basis. My arch nemesis, so to speak.
I do not want to care what other people think about me. I want to be able to be fully myself regardless of the reaction of others. But I find myself battling not to define myself by other people’s perceptions of me. Or what I think their perception is. I want to be known for the truth about me, not the idea someone else has conjured up from their own limited observation of me.
And so I try to explain myself clearly.
But somewhere in the past few years I realized that the human language is completely relative. Every word has a meaning entirely related to the experiences of the person receiving that word. For example, if I say the word “father”, every person is going to have a different emotion attached to that word. They will all see that word based on their own experiences with their father, and assume that’s what I am talking about. And so it is with every word or explanation I speak out about my character or ideas.
And so I constantly experience the sensation of standing in a room full of funhouse mirrors. There I am, exposing my truth, and what I get back is a bunch of skewed images. Some of these images are more flattering than others, and they make me feel good about myself. Other images make me duck away in shame. But all the images are wrong, and so therefore bind me to a lie about me.
My challenge then, is to look inwardly and seek the true likeness of myself. Because there is something about this truth that sets me free. It sets me free from the approval of others and stands alone as an unshakable beauty. One that cannot be changed by a million false images.
I see this truth when I’m with God, because that’s what he is: truth. He is like a crystal clear mirror for me. His true image sets me free. And when he shows me he approves, it feels good to be loved. To be loved for the real me. To be known.
Known.
Known and loved.
That feels nice.
I have tasted this freedom in the past, and I felt more alive than I thought possible on Earth. But it was when I was standing in a room with only one true mirror. The minute I stepped into the funhouse, my truth crumbled under the weight of the lies.
The Lines Of My Journal
“When last I left you, oh faithful readers, it was January and I was seven months pregnant. I had just recently vowed to blog every day… and then stopped completely. 4 months later, I’m back! I have a new baby boy, who is the most precious thing on earth, and I’m beginning to have enough energy and time to write a blog.
Lack of time and energy was not, however, the reason I stopped blogging. The night after my last blog post, I got a visit from God. For two hours I was in a trance where he talked to me about who I am to him. After that experience I had some readjusting to do mentally, and I didn’t feel like blogging it all to the world. There was too much to figure out.
I often find myself in this place. It’s a place where I’m not quite sure where I stand on anything, and I’m just walking forward hoping that eventually it will make some sort of logical sense to me. And then inevitably, it does.
I have just reached this place of understanding and feel that I can breath again.
Two years ago I had to face the question, “What if God doesn’t exist?”
“What if all that I’ve experienced as ‘God’ was really just in my head?”
I had to ask this question, because I want to know the truth. My search for truth is priority. It’s what will set me free.
A godless universe was a new paradigm to enter into, as I’d grown up always knowing there was a God. And it was both a terrifying and freeing thought all at once. The thought of suddenly being all on my own with no assurance of love or safety was frightening. Feeling that, there being no grand author that was writing my story, I could realistically amount to nothing. Yet, there being no authority freed me to feel like I could write my own story, and have things my way. And the whole world opened up to me.
But as I walked down this path of Atheism, I found that I had to turn a blind eye to much more in my life to believe there wasn’t a God, than believing there was. God constantly showed himself through miraculous events. And then there was all the history of miracles I’d experienced that could not be explained away.
Yet, my mind had shifted to a critical stance against God. Previously, he’d been the default answer to everything. I trusted blindly that he was involved in every aspect of my life. But now, I wouldn’t believe anything was God unless there was absolutely no other explanation. He would have to prove himself to me.
And he did. Time and time again.
But something was broken. I no longer experienced him relationally, but rather technically. I did not feel his presence. I could not sense his emotions. It was just form and function. Ash.
However, that January night, he came to me. He filled me with his presence, and I felt his emotion. And I needed no more convincing of his existence. My mind was once again turned.
But that was just the seed planted.
I started journaling what I felt like God was saying to me, acting on advice from my husband. This is what I’d done years ago when I first started hearing from God. My father had recommended it then, and it had worked to build up my confidence.It was a baby step I was frustrated I had to return to. Yet, I felt entirely foolish as I wrote down the voice in my head. All the time thinking, “I’m seriously just talking to myself and writing it down. I’m literally delusional.”
As God told me how much he loved me, I scoffed at my own vanity. When he gave me advice, I kept it in, not trusting it. And I decided I’d stop the nonsense. I’d give up the journaling.
But a thin layer of belief had built up in me, and I became paralyzed, not knowing what to do.
I don’t want to be paralyzed!
That’s when I decided that I had to move forward and let things work themselves out. I told God that he was definitely big enough to intervene if I was just being crazy, and so it was on him. I was going to trust, and it was his job to make sure I was pointed in the right direction. And so I moved forward.
I’m still journaling every day. And every day, right before my pen hits the paper, a fear surges through me that God will not be there to talk to me, but every day he is. It’s a slow process, building a relationship back that was once severed, but I’m doing it. And I can taste the freedom it’s bringing me on my lips.
Today, this is my truth…
-Tara
