Month: June 2010

  • The time in my life where I preached the Word of Chicken

                         So, someone on twitter got me to thinking about a time in my life where things were a bit out of balance, so I thought I’d write it up.  It may or may not be relevant to anyone else’s life, but heck, it felt good writing it, so that’s enough for me.                 Okay, so over 10 years ago, I was living with a lady I loved very much.  Before meeting her, I was totally average in my food consumption.  Loved Mexican and Italian, ate my salads, wasn’t fond of Cantaloupe, and squash, no allergies at all.

    Then, I met Debi, and she was awesome, and we got along well.  She smoked, and I didn’t, but we made concessions.  She’d go outside to smoke, and I go out with her, upwind, and talk to her while she smoked. That kind of partnership.  Turns out she didn’t like chicken meat.  Honestly can’t tell you why, I’m sure she said it, but I don’t think it ever made any sense to me.  Simply didn’t like it.  Except in Gumbo, there, she liked it. So maybe twice a year I’d have some chicken I couldn’t really taste anyway.

    We stopped living together, and dating, but both of us stayed in the same complex, and ate dinner with each other most of the time anyway.  It kind of turned into a silly relationship where we weren’t dating each other, but didn’t want to date anyone else, or have anyone date the other.  (Yeah, I still loved her, and I suspect she loved me, so there you go.)

    Then, I got called up for a long-tour.  I was in the Army Reserves, and they had need of my skills out East at Ft. Meade, so off I went for 6 months.  I was back to cooking for myself, and choosing my own food.  Deb and I spoke often and emailed, and IMed, so that wasn’t much of a big deal, but the lack of meals together sparked a pretty big change in me.  I’d drive by a Popeye’s Chicken, and go in. A KFC, a Church’s, any place that sold chicken, I’d go in.  At first it was just to see if they’d changed much in the last few years, or what’s new, etc…  Then, it was like that was the only food that made sense to me. I’d go into Carl Jr’s and get a chicken sandwich.  Go to a Steak House and get chicken.  It’s not like it was unhealthy, or anything, it was quite good, but that was all I craved for quite a while.

    After a bit, I’d bring it up to folks at work, or at a house-warming party I threw.  Not that I was having chicken again, after a long lack of it, but that “chicken is the bomb!” (it was the 90’s)  “Boston Market has the best roasted chicken!” “Oh, this little place has the best twice cooked potatoes, and the chicken is awesome!”  I KNOW I was annoying about it.  I don’t think I helped a single person find chicken they didn’t already know about.  It’s not like Boston Market is a secret.  The Mexican place with the twice cooked potatoes was a minor revelation, but for the potatoes, not the chicken.  (Can’t even remember the name, actually)

    Fortunately, I realized what I was doing after a month or two.  Folks hadn’t gotten to the point of avoiding me, but it was a close thing, I think.  I just realized that I was going overboard because I’d gone so very long denying myself something I took for granted.  I didn’t set out to compensate for the lost years, but in effect, that’s what I was doing.  If that was all I did, fine, I’m not hurting anyone.  But the proselytizing was way out of character.  I’m NOT a chicken evangelist!  But that’s how I ended up acting.

     Well, after realizing my issues, I got over it.  Got back to eating beef, even, and chicken became just a normal part of the diet.  If I see a good burger or a chicken breast, chances are I’ll go for the burger. But if all I have in the freezer is some chicken, I’ll be quite happy to eat that.  Life gets odd sometimes.  Just a good idea to notice it and fix it.  Or play it up, perhaps.  Odd isn’t always bad.  But I’m glad I don’t preach about chicken, anymore.

  • Stress and dreams

          So, I had some pretty vivid dreams last night.  In this case, I’m pretty sure they all were images of things i need to do, or have been thinking of doing, or on my mind in some way.  So, nothing really life-shattering.  The reason I bring this up is that I haven’t been having many dreams lately.  Heck, I haven’t been sleeping well enough to have dreams, most nights.  But yesterday, a little thing happened that took a lot of stress away, if only for a little while.  And, as a result, I slept, and slept well.  When I awoke, I didn’t wallow in bed, saying, "I don’t want to get up, I didn’t sleep enough."  Which, in truth, really means I have nothing to do for the day, and staying in bed just makes more sense, from a comfort perspective, than getting up and thinking about things.  You know, as I’m prone to do when awake. 
     

         Anyway, so in this dream I leave work for lunch, and I go to my mom’s place, and I’m sitting on her bed, talking.  She offers me something that is reminiscent of a meatball sub, but for some reason, I spill it and get it on the bed.  Saying I’ll get it before it sets, I take the sheets and run to the laundry next door.  I also run to my own apartment to get my own sheets to wash, after all, why waste quarters on only half a load?  Then, I run back to work, for something I’m still not clear on, but to get something, but avoiding detection from any of the bosses, then I leave again.  I then call in to the bosses, explaining that for various reasons, I would be late coming back from lunch, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.  Returning to the parking-lot mall where the laundry is,  walk past my car, which I did not drive there from work.  There is a police-type looking at the expired tags and pulling out his notebook as I pass on the way to the laundry.  Getting into the laundry, I get the sheets out and fold them, then talk to the manager there, and ask them for help.  Just like in an 80’s comedy, she arranges a bunch of people to go out and push my car into the attached automatic car-wash, telling the cop that the car had been pushed here, not driven, and will be pushed back, preparatory to repair or sale. 

         At this point, I wake up somewhat, to wonder at the vividness of the dream.  Not having any need to be up right then, I drift back off, to end up working at Best Buy, talking with an attractive co-worker that is as not the sharpest tool in the shed.  In fact, she’s downright stupid, but she likes talking to me, a lot.  I finally get honest with her, and tell her that I really don’t have the patience to talk with her, because it seems she’s always saying "What do you mean?" and "Huh?" and generally requiring scads of explanation of anything I’m saying.  I ask her if she was capable of understanding metaphor and examples, and she doesn’t know, but she’ll try.  So, so, I pull out my iPod, and have her listen to a Ricky Gervais Guide To… episode, and tell her to pay attention to Karl Pilkington.  She does, and doesn’t understand, of course.  I tell her that she seems a LOT like Karl.  He’s not stupid, so much as woefully undereducated.  His imagination has been allowed to supply him with ideas and opinions unchecked by knowledge, so much to the point that he sounds incredibly stupid, but isn’t really.  All this meaning I don’t really think you’re stupid, young girl, but I don’t have the patience, willpower, or incentive to talk to her, and in effect, teach her things she never bothered to learn already.  She then asks me who I would have patience with.  And being WAY more frank in my dreams than I’d ever be in real life, I tell her that my girlfriend, probably, meaning to finish with, "but how would I become the boyfriend with someone I don’t respect in the first place?" but never get the chance.  She pipes up with, "Then I’m your girlfriend!" very cheerily.  I tell her, no, that can’t be true. the patience I would need would require tons of reward, and just having a girl say she’s my girlfriend isn’t quite what I mean.  She said, she knows, and she’ll do…. okay, at this point, it got a little on the R-Rated side, for adult themes and sexually explicit language, but boiled down, she says she’s made her way through life on her looks, and is a little frustrated by being stupid herself, but knows she’s great in bed, and has no problem using that skill to fix the stupid.  At this point, I woke up again, in a cold sweat, and went and took a colder shower.
    In order, things on my mind. 1)  No job, last one I really hated, so any any excuse to not be there was used, 2) my mom is dead, and I miss her, 3) House mate works at Subway, and brought home leftover meatballs they can’t keep for the next day (But didn’t share), 4) I need to wash my sheets (duh) 5) back to the hated job, and excuses 6) my car needs tags, and to be repaired, (though she’s actually pretty clean.) 7) I don’t really like stupid people, unless they’re hot and giving me something with that hotness. And finally 8) I need a girlfriend.

         As I said, nothing earth-shattering, or nothing I can’t figure out a reason to, but honestly, it was nice to have dreams again, no matter how odd, self-revelatory, or embarrassing.