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Archive for March, 2010

Sigh

Can I be angry that I met him? Now, during all this chaos of his? The timing, I mean, what does it mean? I DON’T want to hang out with other people, I want to hang out with him. SIGH, motherfuckin SIGH. Why did he come looking for me and why did he find me now? He’s not ready for me. Well, he is the one that said hi, and continued to say hi and eagerly said, well HI. So, how do I deal with this? How do I pretend I didn’t meet someone who feels like they were always there? Like they aren’t new. Like they’ve been there forever? How do you disengage from that? Should I even disengage? Am I being impatient? I’m not asking for some huge committment from him at the moment, I just don’t want the connection to go away. Feeling so plugged in to another individual that silence says more than words. UGH and SIGH. So, what do I do with all this? I can’t sleep at the moment. It’s been raining and raining and flooding outside, the crazy barometric pressure has my head wanting to explode and I have tons of work to do for various projects I am involved in. Yet, I am not distracted enough by any of that to forget about him and how good it feels just to be sitting next to him and holding his hand, no words, nothing besides that quiet connection that screams louder at me than anything I can remember.

Sigh.

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Depression is a not so beautiful beast. From it great works of art , literature, music and momentous change can occur or it can quite simply devour an individual and take others in it’s path as collateral damage. Brooklyn is 80% IN IT right now. Remember that line, in Garden State, when Natalie Portman’s character says to Zach Braff’s character, while sitting by the giant fireplace after he is finished talking about his mother, “You’re in it right now, aren’t you?”  Great movie, by the way, but I digress. Brooklyn had spent a week suckling the teat of depression until the breeze changed last night. But let me rewind and start at last Tuesday AFTER my last post.

I hadn’t spoken to Brooklyn since the previous Friday. He had emailed me a very short message on Monday, but I ignored it because it seemed so vague and without meaning. A weak attempt at bridging the distance without addressing anything that hung in our faces. On Wednesday, as I was checking some final email’s, the weather report and cnn.com, I get an IM on google chat from him. He’s drinking the tea I sent. He talks for a couple of minutes and then, as it seems he is going to end the conversation, I jump ahead and tell him I have to go. I have let him lead the way for too long. All his leading did, was get us lost.  

I had no plans to talk to him again until he contacted me, playing a silly game of supply/demand, however, I woke up Thursday morning to find that my foster cat had died. She was curled up under the guest bed in the spare room and dead. I have no idea what might have happened. She MIGHT have been sick and no one knew, but she was only 7 and seemed fine days ago. I live in a multi unit condo building built in the early 1900’s. My feeling is that one of the units without pets placed poison down for the mice, one of those mice made it into my condo prior to dying and due to its being poisoned, it was slow enough to be caught and potentially eaten by said foster cat. That is the only idea I can come up with that seems feasible. She hadn’t left my condo in 3 weeks, was eating Wellness cat food, had fresh water, seemed to be using the litter box without issue and, when the dog was sleeping, she would come out to get loves and pets. So, needless to say I was stunned, shocked, upset, sad and confused, which led me to text him that I had woken up to find the cat dead.He responded with shock as well. Feeling a little needy, I texted him later that evening just to tell him that I missed him. He wrote back hours later that things are insane for him at the moment, everything is too much and he just can’t see the world through the immediate chaos. I let him know that I wasn’t telling him I missed him out of need for a guilt laden response, I merely was feeling his absence and wanted to let him know. I know! I KNOW! I totally showed my hand.

We didn’t talk on Friday, but that evening I received an oddly life appropriate tarot reading that led me to email him at 4:30 am. 3 am is normal but 4:30 am isn’t too atypical of me, by the way. The email was light, just a lot of Hey, we haven’t been talking much and so we are out of touch with what the other is doing/working on, so here’s all the stuff going on with me. Hope all is well in your part of the world. I followed that up with an early Saturday afternoon text hoping that he was having fun with the kids and relaxing. Unfortunately, the returned message was grim and sounded like he was one step from jumping in front of a train. I left him a voice mail reiterating that he doesn’t have to go through this alone, that he has FRIENDS to whom he can lean on.

I spent that afternoon with my barista friend as we both had time to kill and needed distraction from our individual romantic dramas. We met at his Starbucks and wandered around for a bit before deciding on eating some Malaysian food. I then grabbed myself a Jin deui from around the corner (sesame ball filled with red bean paste) and we wandered to a local high-end home goods store for shits and giggles. AMAZING SALE on these cool Mio sculptural wall tiles, which means I can now finish THAT corner of my condo AND for only $30 total!!After an hour of sitting on the floor of a local bookstore we decided a cocktail was in order. I watched him drink gin (ugh, yuck, shoot me first) as I drank vanilla brandy and Limoncello. The rum is off my radar for a bit. We finished up, he walked me to my train and we parted ways. Me, home to my pup and the faithful internet. Him,off to booze it up with some friends and some PBR. Umm, eww.

Now, by Sunday night I hadn’t heard from Brooklyn and he had said he would talk to me over the weekend. I decided the funny approach would work. I sent an email with the subject line,”Giant Sinkhole opens up and swallows man. He is never heard from again.”  In the body I just place a smiley emoticon. Ten minutes later I receive a reply,”It’s called depression”, I then try to show that I understand and that I relate, that I have been in the pits of depression at points in my life and I understand how tasty the marrow of it can be, how sucking all the sorrow out of that bone can be oh so good, BUT, that he has friends and he can call upon us just to yell and go ARRRRGH and GRRRRRR if he needs to. For him just to see and understand this. He replies shortly after that he does in fact see and understand that, and, even though it may appear as if he is wallowing, it is no where near what he has done in the past, but that he just can’t handle the world at the moment. I end the night by reiterating, if he needs anything, just let me know.

Now, I assume that this is the end of communication for days, if not a week. However, suddenly he appears of Facebook saying hello a couple of hours later. He asks me if I have met Crab Ass Brooklyn and I introduce him to Obnoxiously Heart in the Right Place Friend and then we laugh and proceed to have the most normal chat we have had in weeks. In fact, at the end, I mention a new symphony by Lieberson based upon Neruda Poems, and that I was excited to hear it once they released the recordings because his last works were gorgeous and intense. Brooklyn then says, without missing a beat, “like you”. Come again?! All I said was a simple thank you, but holy there’s the Brooklyn I know, and adore, Batman! We both sign off right after that and I go to bed with a smile.

Funny thing, he gets all chatty Cathy with me twice on Monday, even calling me punky at one point. Hmm, Earth to Brooklyn, are you coming up for air? I am hesitant to get too excited and I am keeping a little more emotional distance this go around. I also have two dates this coming weekend. One is a former “rock star”/dj turned designer and the other is, oh man, he’s been out of the country for a month, I forget what he does. Ha Ha.

So, this is where I stand, Brooklyn’s hot water tank may have gotten fixed and I have two dates in the pipeline. As I sit here eating edamame with Franks Red Hot and snuggling with my pooch, I am a bit more content than I was a week ago today. I miss the cat though. So, perhaps this journey isn’t going to have me making out with Natalie Portman in an airport like Zach Braff, but perhaps it will have a far better outcome than was looking possible only days ago.

To Foster Kitty, 2003-2010

Tuesday Posts are web-syndicated by www.thenewgay.net

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Brooklyn and I have been having some strangeness since we almost had sex. He has grown distant, become quieter, looked me in the eyes less. Things are off. Things are wrong. We met for a little under 2 hours last Thursday. The weather was beautiful so I drove up to his town to take my dog to the beach and meet him for a little down time. The friend vibe was palpable. It was strange. It wasn’t him.

We spent some time chatting on-line later that night, again, quieter, less verbose and interested. I tried kicking up the naughty flirt, to see how he would react, and he didn’t. Finally he commented that I “need to get laid”. Ouch. that didn’t feel like the previous we should get naked together comments he would pepper our occasional chats with. That felt like,”you should go fuck someone, not me, but someone.”  I was surprised that he would say something like that and even more surprised that it stung like it did.

I spoke with my pal Assoc. Prod/Musician about the situation and asked his advice. Should I write Brooklyn an email calling him out on the cold shoulder action and the sting of his “light-hearted” comment? AP/M and I agreed that I should step back from Brooklyn for a bit and that an email was justified. So, I wrote it up, had AP/M proof read for craziness and after getting the thumbs up, I held my breath and hit send.

The next morning I had an email from Brooklyn, apologizing for hurting my feelings with the comment, telling me that he has been scheduling me in when he doesn’t have time and that I have become inconvenient AND that ever since we almost had sex, which reaffirmed his feelings that he wasn’t ready to be that physical with anyone, he has been uncomfortable around me. Jesus Christ people!  He thinks I want more than him. Grrr Grrr Grrr, Argh Argh Argh

I have told him since the beginning that I never wanted him to turn me into a chore, a to-do list item that he needed to schedule around, a responsibility or a drama. That I was here as I am, to enjoy time together, when we have it. I originally said, “no sex til you are out of that house.” We agreed. He put MY hand DOWN his pants and on HIS cock in the family van the night of my b-day. I was following HIS lead. Who am I to say whether he is ready to be physical? This is his call. He seemed to be making the call by suggesting overnights, or getting naked together, or trips away. Are you kidding me?!

So,, now I have scared 34-year-old boy, back pedaling and hiding his head in the sand and looking for excuses. His email was line after line of excuses.  I responded in line that before he assume how much I am asking of him, how much I need or require, that he ASK me. I put the ball in his court. He needs to decide what the hell he feels for me. I am fine with a casual affair minus the sex. I care deeply for him but I can handle that. I am NOT fine with , ” but we will always be friends”, IF that is what he comes back with. Not now, maybe later, but I can not just suddenly turn a switch on how I feel about him and it would be completely unfair of him, after pursuing me, romancing me, telling me how wonderful and unique and stellar I am, to expect me to ignore the last month and act like we don’t have the connection that we both know we do.

Ok people, seriously, chime in here, cause I am uber annoyed. I told him I needed some space, atleast til Monday but I feel I am going to take more. I hate games, but he needs to remember why he likes me, he needs to feel my absence a bit. So, he can sweat this out a bit. I am not a fucking yo yo. So, what do you all think?  Is there a possibility that his head will come out of his ass? Should I do like the Clash? Should I stay (casually and realistically that this will be a SLOW drawn out process of self discovery for him) or should I go ?

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay,net

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Interesting end to the week. Friday night I had a date with the Half Asian Hipster, only he isn’t actually a hipster and he’s more a martial arts trained entrepreneur with a really comfortable bed. Yes, I said bed. Now, before you start thinking naughty things… let me start at the beginning of the day.

Brooklyn and I had some heavy back and forth emails Friday morning. They needed to happen. Things had gotten strange since we *almost* had sex and they weren’t getting less strange. More on this next post.

So, I was glad that I had made a date for the evening with the no-longer known as Half-Asian Hipster, now known as Martial Arts Trained Entrepreneur. I needed distraction and fun. We met at the bar a half hour after the time we had planned, he with traffic issues, me with train issues. We had two drinks there, oh and I think he made us do a shot. Hmm, three drinks there. Oof, now I am understanding what happened. So, I feel fine, he is nice, way more muscular in person than he looked on-line. Kinda shocked by that. It made sense as the night went on and he explained how he grew up partly with his mom in Japan and was raised talking Kendo and various other martial arts. This body strength came in handy at the 4.5 hour mark of our date.

Anatomy of a What Was I Thinking night of bar hopping:

Venue 1: 9:00-10:30 Drank two Dark and Stormies and some shot called a tic-tac ? (Wait, I am 35, did I really just do a shot?!) Hmm, what to do next. We drove back to his neighborhood to check out some dj’s. We parked his car in his complex, dropped his jacket at his place and headed to the next bar.

Venue 2: 11:00-11:20 Drank one Dark and Stormy and a shot of Patron. (Wait, ok, shit, was that another shot he just handed me? ) DJ was lame. Left

Venue 3: 11:35-12:00 Walked down the street to check out one of my favorite venues but there was a line out the door. I don’t do lines for *possible* admittance. Not since I was 14 years old and sneaking into clubs with a fake ID. Somehow on our way back to check a different venue,  the conversation shifted to something about height. So, next thing I know, we are both barefoot on the street corner kissing. Hmm, ok. We put our shoes back on and end up in another bar. I order us a drink, asking the bartender to just make us something rummy and tasty. While I am waiting, a strange troll of a man standing next to me starts chatting me up. The man actually looked a bit like a taller Gollum, with better teeth. Why was the bartender taking so long to make this tasty drink? When it finally arrived, I wondered if I said tasty at all to him, unless, I guess, battery acid is tasty to him, because the drink was vile. So, my date , whose nickname here spells MATE in its acronym, HA HA HA, he and I opted to go back to the 2nd venue because it was better than this place with Gollum and the drinks from hell.

Back to Venue 2: 12:15- ? One more Dark and Stormy. Some dancing. A little flirting. Some occasional kisses.

This is what I remember. What I lost is us leaving the bar at closing, not grabbing my blazer that I had tossed under the table to make sure it didn’t get anything spilled on it where I was dancing, walking back to his place. Knowing we needed time for him to sober up before driving me home and my deciding that laying down for a second was a great idea.

Things come back right at the moment I feel myself about to vomit, he THANKFULLY happens to be standing near me and quickly picks me up (remember how I talk about him being strong?) and carries me into the bathroom. (The next time I leave the bathroom, it’s nearly light out.) Soon after my entering the bathroom, he leaves and comes back some shorts, a t-shirt and leaves the room so he can let me get undressed. I guess I hit the white pants a bit, so he offered to wash them for me. I spent a few hours curled up in a ball in my underwear in his shower with the hot water running on my back. When the hot water ran out, I shut it off and just laid there. He came in and draped towels over me to keep me warm because I wasn’t ready to get out yet. He went to bed and I alternated between 20 minute naps on the cold tub bottom and waking up to vomit. It was a glamorous moment in my life. Eventually the stomach settled enough that I could crawl out of the tub, strip out of my cold wet undies and into his shirt and shorts. I brushed my teeth with the toothbrush he left me, thank god for small miracles, and CRAWLED out of the bathroom, across the floor and into the bed. Amazingly comfortable bed.

We woke up to the most gorgeous day of the year so far and he ran off to get me a venti iced green tea and a Kind Bar from Starbucks as I struggled to sit up and face the world. I felt good, surprisingly. Then I went to have a pee and got the spins and threw up three more times while he was gone. He came back to find me back in the bed but facing a different direction. The tea was well appreciated, the Kind Bar was not loving my stomach after the two small bites, so that hung out elsewhere. We laid there and talked for a half hour and I really felt like a shower would help me so he left me alone and did some work stuff while I threw up two more times and then showered. I came out of the shower far more alive than I had been feeling in nearly 8 hours.

The sun streamed into his apartment and felt nice coming through the open windows. I sat on the couch and let him finish his phone conversation as I sipped on my green tea with my once again brushed teeth (This was third time brushed in 14 hours!). I remembered that I had made a cocktail date with someone off the dating sites for 1:00 pm. That wasn’t happening. The thought of cocktails anytime in the next month sounds awful and the reality that I would be the worst date in history for two men in one weekend if I showed up, made me cancel. I feigned food poisoning.  Food poisoning might get me a rain check, telling him that I am dead sick at some other date’s house, wearing said other date’s clothes and not moving anytime soon due to the sheer amount of alcohol I consumed the night prior, that would NOT get me a rain check. In case you were counting, 7 cocktails, including the two shots, on very little food. Foolishness.

MATE and I sat around for another hour while my clothes from the previous night finished washing, we played some Katamari, he smoked some pot (I’m not a fan but to each their own if it’s in moderation), I vomited one last time, brushed one more time and finally got around to eating my Kind Bar before getting into my own clothes and getting driven home.  It was a beautiful day and I missed the majority of it. My dog waited at the door angry at the lack of breakfast and the absence of bathroom breaks over such an extended period of time. I couldn’t get into a car and go home before I knew I wasn’t going to vomit once in the moving car. I’m sorry puppy, I really am.

So, the remainder of the weekend became a series of naps, reintroduction of food and conscious avoidance of texting or calling Brooklyn. Sigh. TGIM

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My internal GPS is a little off these days. It seems that there are a lot of roads under construction and I haven’t yet updated the latest maps. In the 3 months since I started this site many things have happened. I have dated brothers, accidentally. I have been thrown out of a mall for making out with a 20 something kid, on a bench at 2 am, like horny teenagers. I’ve been stood up, stuck with the tab, and gone to 3rd base more times than I had in the last 4 years. I have figured out what I like and don’t like in men and in doing that, realized a bit more about what i did and didn’t like about loving women. I have also figured out some things about myself.

The big question right now is one of direction. While I haven’t officially stopped seeing other men, I haven’t been going out with them. I have lost interest in the chase, because in the end, it’s a lot of work for little reward. I enjoy hanging out with Brooklyn, regardless of what we do. Regardless if nudity and/or passionate making out is involved. I enjoy occupying the same physical space as him and just sitting. I am able to achieve an almost meditative calm with him that I can’t achieve at a Buddhist center in a structured session of sitting. So, where is this blog going? How do I bring the edge back? The humor? I realize that life is a series of moments and not all moments are filled with hilarity but that is why you all tune in, no? If you wanted bad romance, you would rent a copy of The Notebook and eat Haagen Daaz.

The last month has been interesting. Healing, in a lot of ways. Frustrating, in others. Trying to navigate the waters of this man’s personal river of separation, children, soon to be ex wife, and issues surrounding relationships and sex has been unlike anything I have experienced. I would love to hear from people out there who have experienced similar things. Perhaps you dated a divorcee with kids? Perhaps you are the ex wife; what were you feeling when he first started dating someone new? Maybe you are the dad, recently separated and moving on with your life. What were you feeling when you met someone new who you were really interested in? How did this factor into your life? Where there funny moments? Difficult moments? Please share your stories. Thanks everyone for hanging out with me and keeping me company on this journey.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by http://www.thenewgay.net

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Lobster Risotto
(for 2, with leftover risotto for risotto cakes)

INGREDIENTS:
2 Medium LIVE lobsters
1 pound of littleneck clams
4 cups arborio rice
1/4 cup fresh tarragon on stem, loosely packed.
chicken (3 cups) and lobster (3 cups) stock
1/4 cup marscapone cheese
1/2 cup sliced fresh leeks
1 head garlic
1 slice pancetta 1/4 inch thick
1 fresh lemon for zesting
sea salt (maldon is my favorite)
fresh pepper

1-2 Bottles of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, some for cooking, most for drinking. 🙂

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Heat oven to 450 F. Slice top off of head of garlic to expose tips of all cloves. Place in center of square of aluminum foil. Drizzle olive oil, lightly salt and pepper. Fold up corners of foil and twist to seal in garlic. Place in lower rack and allow it to hang out there while you do everything else. The longer it roasts, the more caramelized it gets.

2. Place 2 medium-sized LIVE lobsters in large pot of cold water and bring to boil. Cook until shells turn bright red. remove lobsters from water and place in ice bath to stop cooking.

3. After lobsters are cooked, mix 3 cups Chicken broth with 3 cups reserved lobster water and half of the pancetta, chopped in large pieces, in large sauce pan. Bring to medium-low heat on back burner.

4. In a heavy bottom pan add leeks, a tbsp olive oil, a tbsp butter, salt and pepper to taste and allow to soften and lightly brown over medium low heat. Onions should become translucent. 8-10 minutes. Pull leaves off of tarragon, chop finely and put aside. With microplane or fine grater, remove the zest from one washed lemon and set aside.

5.  Add dry arborio rice to pan and stir with wooden spoon to coat with butter, oil and leeks. Cook for 3-5 minutes, stirring constantly and then add 1 cup of wine. Bring heat to medium. Continue to stir and allow for the wine to be absorbed.

6. Add one cup of broth mixture at a time, allow rice to fully absorb liquid each time. Stir frequently with wooden spoon. Salt and pepper as you go. Taste occasionally. The rice should be al dente… or firm when bitten into, not crunchy… but NOT mushy! (10-15 minutes, give or take) When it seems close to being done, stir in tarragon. (Fresh herbs should always be added towards the end. Dried in the beginning. )

7. As Rice is cooking, shell lobster. Remove as much meat as possible. Chop coarsely and set aside.

8. Remove clams from fridge. In separate pan place the clams, a tbsp olive oil, remaining chopped pancetta, couple splashes of wine (this is soooo scientific), salt and pepper, cook over medium heat until the clams open. Keep over low heat to warm.

9. When rice is firm, but cooked, remove from heat and fold in lemon zest, lobster meat, and 1/4 cup marscapone.Voila… Lobster Risotto!!!

10. Plate the risotto in center of plate with clams surrounding. Squeeze lemon over clams and serve.

11. Remove garlic from oven and serve with butter and fresh bread like french or chiabata.

12. NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

So, there you have it, the promised recipe for Lobster Risotto. I do everything according to my own intuition and taste, so please feel free to play around with the measurements and make this recipe your own.

I had also promised an update on the men who are interested in me and what has been going on besides Brooklyn. Well, I told the Doppelganger that I am seeing someone, which was easier than fessing up about how I made out with his brother, the Peruvian, in December. The tittie slapping Turk? I also told him I was seeing someone. Easier than admitting that his make out style leaves a lot to be desired. The 25-year-old? That just fizzled. He’s so sweet and nice and young and I am just NOT there. We are friends and I suspect that we will remain as such. The assoc. prod/writer/musician guy? Well, we have become super buddies and actually talk about our crushes/dates with each other. He likes younger hipster gals and I like guys my own age who are taller than me. Someone who isn’t shorter than me when I wear heels. So, those are the guys who were kinda hanging around for the last couple of months.

New guys who are meandering into the picture: A world traveling, extreme frisbee playing, half asian hipster. A multi-racial vegan chef of sorts. A 34-year-old adrenaline junkie with the career to afford his insane hobbies.

In order of interest is the Frisbee Hipster, the adrenaline Junkie and lastly the Vegan Chef. The Vegan Chef is nice, says sweet things, BUT is not physically my type at all. Should I feel badly about this? Maybe I will go out on a lunch or coffee only date with him.

Yes, I admit that there is a lack of interest in dating anyone other than Brooklyn. I think that this is for many reasons. Firstly, I burnt out on the 4-5 dates a week with different men. The getting stood up, or stuck with the tab. Yes, I often pay for coffee or tea with Brooklyn but that is because I want to and do so without his asking. I know that with his divorce, the kids, moving, etc… that every dollar helps. So, I can pick up a couple drinks or tea now and then or even make him dinner rather than us eating out. What I didn’t like is when I would go out with someone and even after they knew that my business was struggling, they would suggest we have sushi for dinner and somehow I would get stuck with the tab. $100 sushi dinner that I hadn’t budgeted for vs. a $22 cocktail tab that I opted to pay for are huge differences. The Second reason for my general disinterest is the level of comfort I feel when I am with Brooklyn. It’s calm. It doesn’t require work. It feels genuine. Sigh. What to do, what to do. Lastly, the third reason is this email I received tonight from one of the men on a dating site I subscribe to: “My job is to make you HAPPY babe all the time.. cuz If I had the letters “HRT”, I can add “EA” to get a “HEART” or a “U” and get “HURT”. But I’d rather choose “U” and get “HURT” than have a “HEART” without “U”.”

That email is enough of a reason, right? So, this is my update. Enjoy the risotto and stay tuned for tomorrow’s dual posting with our syndicater… TheNewGay.Net

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2 medium-sized lobsters
1 pound of littleneck clams
arborio rice
fresh tarragon
chicken and lobster stock
marscapone cheese
frizzled leeks
roasted garlic
pancetta
lemon zest
New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc
40 yellow Daffodils from the cheap asian market
sea salt
pepper
and many many smooches.

Brooklyn has never had lobster. How is that possible?! So, I invited him to dinner at the home I am house sitting at and I plan to wow him with my culinary skills. To start? A simple arugula, pine nut, and shaved parmesan salad with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. To end? Pate de Fruit in assorted tropical flavors. To drink? New Zealand S.Blanc from the Marlborough Region. Amazing? Yes, it will be.

I am trying to meet other people. I swear. I am corresponding with several men at the moment but they are all lackluster, or maybe the real issue is that I can’t see the forest when I am looking at this particular tree.

Check out tomorrow’s post for the actual recipe, including measurements, how the meal went AND the rundown on all the men in the periphery. At this moment, I must get into the kitchen. I’m wondering though. Is it torture to let my dog chase the lobsters around while I prep the other stuff? Hmm. That IS an ethical dilemma. Amusing , yes. Mean, maybe.

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