Domestic Goddess Fire Starter

Once upon a time I was a barely healthy vegetarian, very active but a little lazy in the domestic department. I ate the healthiest pre-packed foods I could find, but alas, they were packaged, processed and all had one flavour - salt. My cooking skills were disastrous. DISASTROUS! Has anyone ever managed to set nachos on fire? I have. Twice.

Don't ask me how I manged either fire, I have no idea. I have prepared nachos thousands of times in my life with little fanfare. Sure, there was an occasional burnt outer layer, but even that was rare. Then one day, flames, smoke and a white stove turned black. Thankfully, what I lacked in kitchen know-how I made up for in emergency response. I calmly wet a few tea towels, opened the oven door just enough and smothered the flames quite easily. I then carried the pan out the back door to smolder and smoke in the back yard and ordered a pizza. I stayed away from nachos for a few months but soon I was back at it and all was fine for a time. The second fire was much like the first and all I can say is that in my incompetent hands, nacho chips are combustible.

Then I met a man who was a little on the traditional side and who criticized my lack of cooking. He criticized a lot of what I did, I tried to improve and impress him, he found more to criticize about. As I said, I'm a slow relationship learner, so I kept trying. Eventually I hit upon cookies. He loved cookies and I was mildly successful in making them so I kept at it even though I don't care for the things. The other irony is I did all this cooking to impress a man who was incapable of eating in public and I, apparently, am a one woman public. Like an idiot I would pack him food to go like I was running a bakery. Eventually I got rid of the bad man (yeah THAT bad man), but I kept up the baking, turning my interest to bread, because boy do I love bread! Eventually I moved to homemade pizza, then homemade everything. 

Now the upside to all this is that my very happy, very wonderful and deserving partner is the benefactor of all my attempts to impress the loser with my kitchen prowess. He thinks I am an amazing cook, that I rarely fail when I touch food. One of his favourite refrains early on in the relationship was, "you sure do know what you're doing in the kitchen". I wonder at how far I've come from the woman who couldn't manage even the simplest of heat up meals without having an emergency plan has managed to impress self-proclaimed "bread people" with a couple of my loafs at a party. A former kitchen hazard has become toast of the town! (ok, I apologize for that appalling pun but I am completely giddy about overcoming my complete lack of belief in myself and actually impressing people with an activity I once feared and dreaded).

So I guess two good things actually came out of that bad relationship - I can cook now! and I met and have maintained an amazing friendship with someone I met through him. Three things, I haven't set fire to my kitchen in ages ;) Oh and now I am a healthy vegetarian.

If You Want My Advice......

Those of you who irregularly read my blog will know that I work in the fitness industry. I am a certified personal trainer, a Spinning (tm) instructor and a karate sensei. Like anyone else who provides a service, I frequently get asked for free advice by friends and acquaintances alike. I don't mind sharing information, in fact, I generally enjoy it. I work in the industry because I have a passion for it, not to make a lot of money (which is a good thing, because, well, I don't). 

What I do mind are the "...yeah, but..." people. We've all met them, they are the people who pretend to be soliciting your expertise but what they actually want is for you to tell them what they want to hear, and what they really want to hear is, "what you are doing at the moment is perfect, you are absolutely right, don't change a thing." Thus, their response to your informed and considered advice is to offer a well rehearsed list of why your solutions won't work for them, because "...yeah, but..." is almost always followed by, "I can't."

My methods for dealing with people like this have ranged from the fake sympathetic - smile and nod saying things I don't mean like "yes, it's a tough one" while my brain screams, "THEN WHY THE HELL DID YOU ASK ME?!?!?", to the patronizing, "naturally, you would know better than me", and on occasion, outright blunt, "look, do you want to be 'right' or do you want to actually learn this?"*. The problem is, I always walk away feeling frustrated that the advice seeker is going to fail when ultimately it is not my problem whether they succeed or not. Why is that? They aren't clients, often they aren't even friends, why is it more important to me that they succeed in improving their fitness than it is to them? Why can't I develop that 'professional detachment' I hear so much about?

Years ago I joked with friends that I was going to write a best selling self-help book and I knew it was going to be a bestseller because I had the perfect self-help formula: take what people are already doing, rephrase it so it sounds different, provide very small easy changes that aren't really changes, because ultimately, that is what advice seekers really want, to find out they are right, but with different phrasing. Now, if only I could get down that not caring part, I'd be rich.....




* This would be the point in the program when my friends would argue, "oh, yeah? What about all those times we gave you relationship advice along the lines of, 'why do you insist on staying with this person who so obviously does not make you happy and is not right for you on any level?' which you completely ignored and continued to whine about how unhappy he was making you for the next year and a half?" And they would be absolutely right. All I can offer is that I am a  slow relationship learner but  I eventually got it right.

Stealth Co-habitation

As I mentioned in my last post, I moved in December and now I finally have the wifi to tell the tale. Like all DIY moves it had challenges, sleeplessness, rain, etc. but we got through it reasonably unscathed. I would like to clarify again that I moved....or so I thought.

It all started innocently enough with a toothbrush and some toothpaste left at my place for the "unplanned" sleepovers. That is both fine and understandable, though as a person whose toothpaste brand is whichever one is on sale, I found the strong toothpaste preference to be a little on the odd side. No matter, there is plenty room in the cabinet for two pastes and as long as we both have clean teeth, I'm happy. 

The occasional sleep over became pluralized and all was good and happy. A laptop was brought over for some practical reason that now escapes me. Then extra clothes, also very practical. Now I am looking at the calendar and I cannot remember the last time he didn't sleep at my place. We never had a conversation about living together; no arrangement of any kind was ever made. Bit by bit his things just started showing up at my place and not leaving again and then one day I realized that we were living together by default. It works and we manage it fairly well despite my protests to friends several months ago that I absolutely did not want to live with anyone. My guy has completely made a liar out of me, because it turns out that I do enjoy living with him. Yes we have our scrimmages and I still love those rare occasions when I come home to an empty house - such a great feeling - but I also like knowing he'll be there with a big hug when I get home. How did this happen?

Perhaps that's the approach to take with a commitmentphobe. Just ease into it gradually, almost imperceptibly and whatever you do, do not "talk" about it!

Sticking it to the Man...err Men...conglomerate?

It's been a long time! First I moved. In a show of rare organization I arranged for my wireless internet to be hooked up at the new place the day of the move. He came, he saw, he couldn't. I was given forms, excuses and a number for re-booking. Two days later, a different "tech" and then his supervisor. More excuses, still no wireless. I was told to solicit permission from new neighbours, in order to let the cable company (yeah "cable company", you know who you are) access their property and told to phone back when I had done so. Have you ever had to sit at home waiting, in a four hour time block, for trades people to come to your home? Imagine if someone you did not know knocked on your door and asked for your schedule and requested you be home during said 4 hr time span to await the return of the cable company and you were not getting anything out of it. EXACTLY! Four months later, I had finally managed the impossible, I was home, neighbours were home, forms were signed and the tech had no idea how to hook up my cable (wireless, don't have TV cable, don't want it). He called a supervisor. Two men wandered around perplexed. Then the supervisor's supervisor showed up. Let's take a count here: 3 trades people, 3 supervisors, approx 3 hrs total. My estimation is that I cost the cable company at least $700-$800 over the course of 4 months just to get service.

I'm up and running now, just as bike racing season goes into full swing! What perfect timing ;)

Next week I promise to write about domestic bliss and other misadventures.....