At the boutique where I work we serve Lasagnas and pastas a la Bolognese. Lasagnas I always loved, or at least their reputation. Back in my country, it’s not something you eat often. So, maybe it’s the fantasy I was mad about. On the other hand, Bolognese… bleah!!! Ground meat, tomato sauce… not something among my favorites.
Lasagnas, Bolognese and other stuff…
Part 1- other stuff…
The thing is… if you want to make time for you, you can sort it out somehow. I have been using all the pretexts and all the excuses in the world for not doing what I had in mind. Not having the time is the lowest excuse ever! If you love something real bad, you find the time! It doesn’t matter if it’s 5 minutes or 5 hours. It’s important to be all the time, ideally on a daily basis. Each and every day of our lives, it counts!
Imagine you’re on your death bed (even if it sound creepy… that day will come, except when you die in an accident, so you are not in your bed). You would do anything to have just one more day. I can’t even imagine how much it means one day! Lives change in one day! Destinies are written in one day. One day can make history! And examples are countless. Think that it was just one day, one moment when I don’t know what Slavic prince was killed and First World War has begun. It was one day when Hitler’s mother decided to get married and have Hitler and we all know how it went. Or, think of the day when Lady Diana died. That changed the course of history. Imagine if she would had lived and had a baby with Dodi… an Arab being the brother of the future king of Great Britain! I can only imagine the face of that castrated boiled rat of Charles and that infatuated non-fucked mother of his. And it was one day that changed everything.
Then why not appreciate every day I have? Why not make every day a celebration of life? Why not take advantage of all the days I have? I work hard every day, I’m there only for the money because living as a bohemian is no longer an option for me when I’m responsible for a little creature which is my baby. I start to realize that I’m in my comfort zone… but really, where’s the soul’s satisfaction? And I don’t understand one thing… why the fuck is it called comfort zone? If you’re comfortable in that situation, why leave it?
It’s true, I don’t have a lot of choices right now because of my immigrant status, but one day I’ll have done all my paperwork… What will I do? For the sake of my life, I hope I’ll wake up and have the courage to take the risk and find something else, even though, changes are not my things. I get attached, easily. It’s hard to let go. But since I’ve emigrated from my country, life has taught me things the hard way, so my ass is so kicked off that it has become senseless. Sometimes is good learning the hard way, I’ve said it before, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger (ok, I know, it’s someone else who said it before… who cares? … the message is important, not the messenger). So, ok, I don’t believe in this quit your job shit, I have a child to raise, a car to pay, I want to move out from my mom’s place… and my hubby is no Donald fucking Trump, he works hard for a shitty pay check! Welcome to immigrants’ club!
The question is… Can that stop me looking for another job? We’ll see by the end of the year if this goes… somewhere… over the rainbowJ
Part 2- Lasagnas Theory
So, I began writing about scent vs. taste. I know I left it unfinished but the important is I have started in the first place. There is no problem, look, I’m finishing now.
However, beginning things and never finish them that’s another thing.
I have mentioned the lasagnas. Let’s say I’ve drooled…literally, I’ve drooled about those lasagnas. The scent in the air, Good Lord, they were making me go crazy… pouring water in my mouth (saliva, actually). Once I said, what the fuck, I’ll bring two casseroles at home. I was having my band rehearsal so I didn’t want to eat in hurry. I wanted to have a special moment, with a glass of wine, candles…I’m joking with the candles. But I like making a special moment with something I love eating. I may say I have a sick cult of food…But that’s not important right now. So, I told my family I brought lasagnas. I said to myself I will eat in the morning.
Next day, I wake up, I go directly to the fridge, and … no lasagnas! What the fuck? Next second I hear my dear husband Oh, honey, you’ll be glad to know we eat until the very last bite, they were great the lasagnas! He knows I’m happy when he loves the food I cook/bring/buy, but the feeling I got! guess what? This time I felt like someone had just hit me… with a hammer… in the head! It’s like planning a hot date, and the other one doesn’t show up! Fuck, double fuck!
So, I remain with the lasagnas cravings. Every day the smell was killing me softly. Usually, we eat after lunch service, so if there is no lasagnas left I can go fuck myself! I had butterflies in my stomach when serving those lasagnas. I was like… horny over the lasagnas! I know, I’m weird with the food… but that is the word… horny!!!
Days went by… I was unfucked by the lasagnas and the desire was making my food hormones go crazy. Till one day… the miracle was there. A holyday with not so much clients… so there were three lasagnas left… I couldn’t wait to take it home, so I just wanted there… at the table, right now! My own, juicy, greasy, hot lasagnas… my wonderful lasagnas… no foreplay, nothing… I went straight ahead with the first bite. I was hoping firework in my mouth and satisfaction in my stomach… I had one bite, two bites, three bites, like a savage… waiting for my taste papillary to start doing their job… and BOW!!!!…I hit my head so hard like fish jumping on a water bowl asphalt drawing. Nothing special, nothing that could give me that gastronomic orgasm I was expecting for. It’s like receiving a very big present box under the Christmas tree and inside you find only a pair of ordinary socks! That’s the feeling I got!
With the first occasion I got I went on a Chinese restaurant and got myself a healthy plate of noodles with all kinds of Ho Chi Min, Kung Fu, and Jackie Chan chicken and had my classic but sure orgasm!
Conclusion: Things aren’t always as they seem! Just because it’s pretty and shiny, and it smells good, doesn’t mean you hit the good stuff.
And I think that stands quite alright with people too. Or situations. I have high hopes usually. I trust people. I give them credit from the start. I don’t know why, considering today’s society where everybody will fuck you at some point (almost), but I do, I trust people. I want to believe the goodness in us still exists. And many times I’m disappointed. And I haven’t stop believing this. I do believe in humanity… still! I’m thrilled by new people, by new situations, new clothes… and I’ve never known why there or so many times when it turns to be not so good. And normally, then, I feel bad. Disappointment is not the nicest thing in the world. A person who seems nice is actually a snake, a situation can have many turn ups, and a dress you have dreamed for a month to have it makes your ass looks as big as Chinatown!
And over the years, I realized that I throw myself ahead without thinking. So, as Celine Dion says, Think Twice, would not be such a bad thing. First impression can fool you. I sometimes get so excited that my neurons are like… drunk. And when you’re drunk you usually call and text your ex… stuff like this that you regret when you wake up.
My point? Let myself a bit more time to know what I’m dealing with. Reflect before act. I think this would be a very mature thing to do. Accepting or not, I’m a young adult and as my best friend says: there are times when you simply cannot blame age, anymore. Wise words, my dear! Plus, reflecting before acting means not so many disappointing stuff, which results in happier life! Ta daa!!!
So, at the beginning of today’s post I’ve stated something: that you can always find time for the thing you love. Proof: The Lasagnas Theory was written entirely during a Saturday at the boutique. I have taken advantage of the Saturday’s quiet profile and I brought my notebook (a real one with sheets) and I wrote down between two clients! /
To be continued…
beingroma 