One month down. Five to go. It seems to have flown by, while other times I wonder if I'm doing a life sentence.
There are worse places I could be, I guess. Like, Alcatraz. Or Robben Island. Or the damn well where Baby Jessica was trapped.
It's time to take a moment to remind myself that this blog is called To Thine Own Self, Be Food. Not To Thine Own Self, Find The Cheapest Gin-and-Tonic On Island or To Thine Own Self, Try To Make Friends At Work.
It's time to step back and refocus. I have not talked about food much here lately...well, some, I guess, but not enough. I suppose that's because I feel there's not much excitingness about black bean dip or basil cream sauce.
Even worse, I have not thought much about food while I've been here. I haven't read much about it and I haven't tried much of it. I had every grand idea about coming here and having the time to read and learn and think about food.
And well, confession time.
I've been caught up in attending Ladies' Night, checking out the newest wine bar, working at the restaurant, reading Shakespeare et al, biking around and exploring the island, and watching movies I borrow from the library.
I know, dear readers, you are all probably telling me to not be so hard on myself. There are worse things I could be doing.
But let's face it, I'm here for all things culinary. And I have fair missed the mark.
Here's where I prostrate myself at your feet and beg your forgiveness for my laxity. (Pause to imagine this)
And here's where I start again. While I was at the bar last night, enjoying cheap Pabst Blue Ribbon (rock bottom, people), it occurred to me that while I was surrounded by people (mostly white), I was actually alone. I was lonely. There was nobody for me to talk to, and I spent two hours pretending to be interested in the Detroit Tigers baseball game on TV (ask my husband, I don't even DO THIS at home). That's how dire the situation has gotten.
Tonight, instead of going to the bar, I am going to a restaurant. I am going to order off the menu and I am going to photograph it and write about it. And I'm going to do it all right here. Then, I'll repeat the process in a few days.
The theory is that this will cause me to refocus and remember what it is that I'm supposed to be doing here.
Okay. Now I've aired my dirty laundry, how was your day?
There are worse places I could be, I guess. Like, Alcatraz. Or Robben Island. Or the damn well where Baby Jessica was trapped.
It's time to take a moment to remind myself that this blog is called To Thine Own Self, Be Food. Not To Thine Own Self, Find The Cheapest Gin-and-Tonic On Island or To Thine Own Self, Try To Make Friends At Work.
It's time to step back and refocus. I have not talked about food much here lately...well, some, I guess, but not enough. I suppose that's because I feel there's not much excitingness about black bean dip or basil cream sauce.
Even worse, I have not thought much about food while I've been here. I haven't read much about it and I haven't tried much of it. I had every grand idea about coming here and having the time to read and learn and think about food.
And well, confession time.
I've been caught up in attending Ladies' Night, checking out the newest wine bar, working at the restaurant, reading Shakespeare et al, biking around and exploring the island, and watching movies I borrow from the library.
I know, dear readers, you are all probably telling me to not be so hard on myself. There are worse things I could be doing.
But let's face it, I'm here for all things culinary. And I have fair missed the mark.
Here's where I prostrate myself at your feet and beg your forgiveness for my laxity. (Pause to imagine this)
And here's where I start again. While I was at the bar last night, enjoying cheap Pabst Blue Ribbon (rock bottom, people), it occurred to me that while I was surrounded by people (mostly white), I was actually alone. I was lonely. There was nobody for me to talk to, and I spent two hours pretending to be interested in the Detroit Tigers baseball game on TV (ask my husband, I don't even DO THIS at home). That's how dire the situation has gotten.
Tonight, instead of going to the bar, I am going to a restaurant. I am going to order off the menu and I am going to photograph it and write about it. And I'm going to do it all right here. Then, I'll repeat the process in a few days.
The theory is that this will cause me to refocus and remember what it is that I'm supposed to be doing here.
Okay. Now I've aired my dirty laundry, how was your day?
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