Knotty or Nice

I stink.

No, seriously, I smell wicked bad.

My neck and shoulder have been bothering me for several months and when I started getting headaches, I decided some action must be taken. So, I made a series of massage appointments. At my first massage, the therapist said that I had some of the biggest knots he has ever seen. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be embarrassed or proud. He really worked on my shoulder and by the end of the session, I had much greater mobility.

I was told that since he had worked out this enormous knot (or groups of knots?), that I was supposed to drink lots of water to flush out all the toxins released and (I assume) running amok in my body. Like school kids released on Spring Break or something. I was told no caffeine (what?) and no alcohol (whaa?) as this would keep the toxins in my body instead of washing them out in tidal waves of water.

But I had a birthday dinner (for two friends) to go to that night...and they had just opened two bottles of wine when I got there. How could I not toast the birthday girls? Plus, I had never tried those wines before. And, and, I only had two small glasses. Yup, uh huh. Plus, it was a great meal, which I chose to end by having a great dessert -- rhubarb/strawberry cobbler. Now, how can one have a yummy dessert like that without coffee? T'would be sacrilege, for sure. So, I just broke two rules, just a teeny bit.

Do you believe that for the next 2-3 days I felt horrible? Headachy and slightly queasy, I just felt "off." Those toxins were having a good time inside of me; and I don't think they wanted to leave. No matter how much water I drank. Is that normal?

I also had dinner plans after my second massage appointment. Guess what? I had no wine and no coffee. I drank lots and lots of water. I did not feel as bad. Now, I'm not sure if it was because I toed the line better that second time, or if I just didn't have the same volume of toxins running and partying throughout my body, but I felt fine after a day. After this second session, my shoulder has almost full mobility. Now if only my neck would get better...

Which brings me to my third massage session. He worked on my shoulder, but spent more time on my neck. It felt a little better, but not much. So he put this cream on my neck and where my neck and shoulder meet (the shek? the noulder? whatever that area is called). Anyway, there is aspirin in this cream and it started tingling and heating up. It also stank.

And that brings me full circle. I stink. From this weird, tingly, hot cream. I went to Macy's that way (had to pick up an anniversary present) and self-consciously tried to sniff myself. But with my neck still being stiff, it was awkward to turn my head to sniff in that area. So I tried not to be too close to people, hoping that distance would help. No one seemed to notice, so I think it worked. Either that or people lacked a sense of smell or they were just too polite to let their disgust show...in any case, I am grateful.

So here I sit and type. Stinky, somewhat gooey (it got in my hair and feels like ointment or vaseline). I can barely stand smelling me. But at least there is a reason for my stinkiness. What is more worrisome are the occasions when I'm sitting (perhaps watching t.v.) and the wind changes and I smell myself. My nose automatically wrinkles and I think, "Geez, why do I stink so bad?" Those are times I have no aspirin ointment to blame. It's just me and my glands, I guess. Then I start getting paranoid. Do I stink all the time? Are those around me too polite or too embarrassed to say anything to me? But then I remember my alarmingly honest family that would love to tell me how much I stink, if in fact I did stink often. After all, I tell my nephews when they stink. And when my mom has bad breath. I'm sure they would provide me with the same courtesy.

Alak! Off to the showers! Then, hopefully I can stand to be in my own presence again.

I Heart Eating

I like to eat. Seriously. I really like to eat. Eating is a sensual experience for me (not sexual…there’s a significant difference). I do not eat just to provide my body with sufficient nutrients to function properly, but I engage all my senses. My eyes admire the colors and plating, my ears hear the sizzle (if any), my nose smells the delectable scents, and my mouth and tongue feel the different textures and taste the combination of flavors. *sigh* Puts me in a rapturous mood just thinking about it.

I am one of those people who can be groaning about how full I am, but still talk incessantly about food and what my next meal will entail. Yeah, don’t judge me. We all have our little eccentricities.

Some people feel it is too much trouble to cook just for themselves. Unless they’re cooking for a bunch of people, they will settle for a peanut butter sandwich or cereal for dinner. I am not one of those people. I totally feel like I deserve a great meal if that is what I want (I have gone the cereal route before and that’s fine if you’re in the mood). I will make myself an appetizer, entrée and dessert. I’ll dirty multiple pans and plates just for me. No one else. I truly think those other people don’t love themselves enough.

I think it is my love of eating that triggers my joy for cooking. Cooking can be very creative. I can’t draw (unless you count stick figures). I can’t do crafts (I’ve been a paste-in-hair-can’t-cut-in-a-straight-line kind of kid since kindergarten). I don’t play a musical instrument well (I know, I know, 11 years of piano and I can only play “Chopsticks?” What a waste of my parents’ well-earned money). My poetry is sophomoric and pretentious. What creative outlet is open to me but cooking? And it melds so nicely with the fact that I love to eat! I am one of those people lucky enough to usually really enjoy what I make.

Except for the Grand Marnier soufflé. That was a total disaster; and not even Julia Child could have fixed it. Not even if she could do magic. How can something be rubbery and hard and mushy at the same time?

Other things are on the fence…like when I added peanut butter to this hamburger and chile mixture to serve over rice. Not a winner, but not horrible either. I think I just needed more heat (should have used sambal)…

And sometimes things turn out fantastic. The frustrating thing is that it is often difficult to recreate those dishes. I tend to use whatever I have on hand and throw in on a whim whatever I think would work well together. If it turns out to be a keeper, I can’t remember what I put in it the previous time and then, of course, it doesn’t quite taste the same. Bleh.

Of course, I am writing all this immediately after finishing a meal. Or should I say, experiencing my meal! I made this chicken dish with bacon, garlic, rosemary and lemon. Pretty darn good, if I do say so myself! And I do! Happy eating . . .