Today I came to a realization: In a month, I will be thirty, and yet in 29 and eleven twelfths years, I have never been asked on a date in person. I have been asked out via phone call, Facebook message, text message, and dating app messaging. But never has a guy walked up to me and said, “Would you like to get dinner with me some time?” I always thought it would be great to be asked out in person. You’re in the same room with them and you can see their facial expressions while you realize that they like you enough to spend some time with you. After musing about my realization, I thought perhaps a deciding factor in whether or not I should marry someone in the future should be how he asked me on our first date. If it wasn’t in person, perhaps I should just say no. But that’s just setting myself up for life as a spinster whose best option is to marry foolish Mr. Collins, the man who somehow thinks condescension from a great lady is a thing to boast to every person in the room.
In a few weeks, I will be twenty-eight years old. Twenty-eight and still single. Always single.
So I took that courageous first step: I quit my job. I turned in my two-week notice and hoped beyond hope that I hadn’t made a stupid decision. I felt stupid walking away from a job without another one lined up, but I suddenly felt so very free to go for my dreams again, to be me – artsy, creative, unique, interesting. But unemployment is no man’s friend. Not only are you not earning money, you are stuck at home way too much, you have no money to go adventuring (unless, of course, your previous job was lucrative and you were a good saver), and you feel down in the dumps about your worth as a person. You spend so much time writing applications about how wonderful you are at everything, only to get turned down over and over again. It’s exhausting!
You may have been wondering for the past few weeks why the images that are usually on my blog are black. You may not have noticed at all. Or you may not have visited since my last post. I do hope that last sentence is not the case, but if it is, that is quite all right too. Whether you noticed the black at the top of the page or not – whether you have visited or not – I am glad you are here now. Please keep visiting.
I am so proud of Essena O’Neill. I did not know of her before, but after hearing from Joy the Baker of what she has done, I just want to yell from the rooftops, “GO GIRL!” If you do not know who this girl is (like I did not know until just yesterday), Essena O’Neill is a nineteen-year-old girl who became famous through her presence on social media. It seems that the main way she used social media in the past was through modeling and uploading photos of herself… Correct me if I’m wrong… She got sucked under by the drug of followers, likes, and worldwide social media approval. But as of only a few weeks ago, she has come up for air and sworn off social media by way of a new blog called “Lets Be Game Changers” (elimination of apostrophe her choice, certainly not mine).
Where the doors are moaning all day long,
Where the stairs are leaning dusk to dawn,
Where the windows are breathing in the light,
Where the rooms are a collection of our lives:
This is a place where I don’t feel alone.
This is a place that I call my home.
I’m sitting here looking at all this delicious food I just made. And eating it. I was feeling lonely and depressed today… well, really for the past few days… and the audiobook of Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie I had checked out was due tomorrow, so I drove around quite a bit listening to the end of the book. I went to the grocery store, and when I came back from returning the audiobook and checking out a new one, I had planned to make a chicken vegetable soup. I started cooking frantically. I boiled the chicken, then started to cook sweet potatoes and carrots in the water as I tore up the chicken. Then my cooking plans changed completely. I ended up making a sweet potato/carrot/almond/peanut soup and stir-frying chicken and vegetables on the side. There wasn’t enough space in the pot for everything at once and the puréed smooth carby vegetable and nut soup just sounded too good to pass by. When I cook, I often end up making something completely different than what I planned on making. I will plan to use a recipe to try something new, and then change half of it around by the time I get to the end of my cooking endeavors, completely forgetting that I even had a recipe to follow in the first place. Now I sit here with two delicious dishes, and I feel much better. I cooked today more than I have in a long while. I took out my anger and frustration and sadness on the sweet potatoes, listened to Mumford & Sons, and felt very stylish with a nice hairdo and a cute apron. The only thing I’m missing are people with whom to share all this good food. Then my house would feel like home.