Saturday, October 23, 2010

The One in Which We discuss Moderation and My Lack of it.


Mood: Rather Lost. I missed an entire week somewhere.
Listening to: Overload  done by Zappacosta (Dirty Dancing Version)

So…this thing called moderation. In theory, I am the biggest fan. I think moderation is a healthy approach to just about everything. But, and you knew there would be one didn’t you; there always is. But I find it incredibly hard to put this theory into practice. The area of my brain that says, “Ok, B, this is probably enough. Seriously. Stop. Right now you crazy heifer,” is either chronically late or conspicuously absent. As an example, it’s Saturday night.  I’m enjoying some Spanish Rioja with my husband and we have the ipod cranked up as far as two sleeping children allow. I get the munchies and wander on over to the fridge for a snack (yep, this is exactly what you think it is…..unless you think I smoke pot, which would just be ridiculous. I have enough issues already. Hormones, PMS, cough cough ahem.) I notice a thoroughly rotten cucumber has escaped my somewhat diligent attention as to the state of the fridge and has leaked some disgusting green goo all over a drawer. Now, a normal person would probably wince and grab a rag (or even not) and just clean THAT DRAWER. It struck me as an awesome idea to just go ahead and clean out the whole fridge, because, well, honestly it needed it. Badly.  No kidding. It only took 15 minutes, but seriously, who does that?  The whole fridge on a Saturday night. 

Exhibit 2. Hubs and I have friends who (whom?) we love dearly. The husband is a vegetarian which is totally cool with me – we have lots of veg friends  - and the wife is a chicken lover. They live a half hour away in NYC and come to stay for the weekend so we can all indulge in way too much wine, home cooked food, and usually plenty of conversations and laughing.  I have yet to determine why, but every time they come over, I pull out all of the stops and cook up a storm. Let’s stick in a caveat. I love, love, love cooking, I truly do.  I also love nurturing people I care about. But really. 2 days worth of at least 3 appetizers before dinner, dinner, dessert, wine, breakfast,  and other random eats. I’m not talking take-out either – I’m one of those ridiculous people who makes their own hummus. I like making it, but still. Every time they come, they beg me not to make so much food, but every time I end up doing it anyhow, because, well, I feel like that is how you take care of people. No matter how often I can logically agree with these friends that the company is more important than the cooking, that psycho mother hen tendency comes out anyhow.   

Exhibit #3 in the tom-foolery  – I have and regularly write in 6 blogs. 6.  Because throwing every topic I can think of into 1 blog just doesn’t make sense – we have to let the organizing demon take over. We’ll get to him in another blog.  I wouldn’t say he’s due to OCD because laziness saves me from being truly OCD.

I think I’ll go self-medicate with wine. Yeah, moderation doesn’t work with wine either, so it should be an interesting night.
 
Becky

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