I’m Sure I’ll Wake Up and Know How to Cook Any Day Now…

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I’m operating under the assumption that knowing how to cook, much like puberty, is something that just happens to you overnight at a certain age. I hope I am right about this, and I hope it happens to me soon, because I am getting a little tired of having cereal and personal-sized bags of microwave popcorn for dinner.

Not only would it be nice to eat real meals, but I’d also like to feel like a real adult. Growing up is so much more ambiguous than it used to be. Being an adult is not about reaching a certain age; it is more a state of being. Sometimes, I do feel pretty adult, like when I am deciding how much money to allocate to my 401k. But other times, like when I am making a bowl of instant pudding for dinner, I feel like I’m erasing some of my progress. So if I can learn how to cook, I can tip the scale back toward adulthood just enough to feel respectable.

I think the first step is getting excited about food. And I am there. There are hundreds of recipes on Pinterest that I’d love to try making, but they all involve cheese, biscuits, or bacon. Despite what I said about the bags of popcorn and bowls of pudding, eating healthy is important to me. So while I would be very excited to make a bowl of cheese soup, I won’t let myself. Things that usually catch my eye, like ‘Caprese Dip’ or ‘Pepperoni Casserole,’ are out of the picture. So I am left with recipes that involve more fresh and healthful ingredients, like broccoli slaw or cauliflower mashed potatoes, and no offense to the broccoli family, but those recipes are a little harder to get excited about.

Even if I am able to get pumped for produce, there is the issue of expiration. Produce tends to spoil at a much faster rate than I can eat it. Partially because I buy it thinking, Ha, now you’ll be forced to eat this! but get home and think, But I don’t wanna eat that! and reach for another bag of popcorn. But even when I am on board, it’s hard to beat the clock. If I buy a bag of spinach, I have to eat it for three days straight to finish it before it goes bad. This issue is often multiplied when I am ambitious enough to make something with multiple ingredients. Now I have seven perishable items per meal sitting in my fridge quickly expiring and it’s a race against time to eat them all.

Since I don’t enjoy buying food only to throw it away days later, I try to stick to meals with very few ingredients (a bag of popcorn only has one!), and I diligently consume those ingredients by eating the same meal every day. When I get ham at Costco, it’s Ham and Eggs Week. When Harris Teeter has a BOGO sale on Progresso, it’s Can of Soup Week. When I buy that bag of spinach and need to get rid of it, it’s Green Smoothie Week. When I haven’t gone to the grocery store in a while and I’m feeling lazy, it’s Cereal Week. So technically I am eating a well-balanced diet…it’s just over the course of an entire month. But week-to-week it’s more all or nothing; protein one week, grains another, fruits the next, and for Can of Soup Week, a healthy focus on sodium. I’m no expert, but I don’t think this Food Group of the Week approach is ideal. So I think I might need a new strategy for properly sustaining myself while I’m waiting for my cooking gene to kick in.

I Can’t Wait Til I Go to Hikeschool, Billy

Over the months of May and June, I’ve been to a number of high school and college graduations. And while I gave my whole-hearted ‘Congratulations!’ and ‘Best Wishes,’ I was unable to express the one true piece of wisdom I had for these graduates, which was this:

This is what I want to do to anyone embarking on their freshman year of college. But I can’t because throttling people until their cheeks jiggle isn’t usually appropriate. But Billy is right. Stay in school. Stay as long as you can. Cherish it. Because real life? Sucks. Don’t believe me, just look at this graph of Excitement over Time and draw your own conclusions.

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I’m Sorry, Is My Inability to Breathe Bothering You?

I have a cold. Or maybe it’s allergies. Either way, I have a stuffy nose, a sore throat, and a deposit of phlegm in my lungs that gargles when I breathe. You don’t have to tell me this is gross; it’s happening right here in my nose and mouth, so I’m well aware. If there was a way to make it all stop, I’d be making it happen. So what do you think you can achieve by asking me questions like, “That sound is so annoying, can you please stop coughing already?” Um, not really. I’m not doing it for fun, like I decided coughing is the new humming. I’m not doing it because I thought it would sound melodious or make me look cool. I didn’t wake up this morning and think, Hey you know what would be a good goal for today? Cough until I taste blood! See my face turning red as I choke and gasp for air? That is happening specifically because I physically cannot stop coughing. This is not a concentrated effort to bother you. I’m sure it is annoying to hear, but asking me to just stop is not a feasible solution. Try walking away instead. That would suit us both.

Once Upon a Time, Some Guy Honked at Me, and We Lived Happily Ever After

Everyone has that one friend who loves to beat you over the head with how hot and desirable she is.  She will provide you with real-time updates of every man who hits on her, because we are just sitting at home on the edge of our seat, dying to know the latest. Has anyone hit on Cara yet today? Gosh, I hope she calls soon with an update!  Or, if you haven’t seen this friend in several months, her first order of business will be to catch you up on every guy who has hit on her since you last met. From the guy driving by who honked his horn, to the barista who gave her a free cup of coffee, to the guy at the club who told her she was the most beautiful girl in the room…and how that wasn’t just a line—he really meant it. Alright already, I get it; you are irresistible to the male species. I always wonder, Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to prove to me that you are pretty? I never said you weren’t pretty. Do I need to tell you more often how pretty you are? Is that was this is about? Then can I stop getting these play-by-plays?

What bothers me most is when girls act like this isn’t bragging. They’ll introduce it into conversation like they are telling a riveting story. “Oh, Marisa, you’ll love this…” Why would I love it – this juicy story about a guy honking at you and then driving away? That’s not a story. A story would be if a guy honked at you and drove away, but then you chased him down the street to give him your number because you were so flattered by his interest, and then you got to talking and realized you were soul mates and eloped to Vegas. That’s a story. But some guy honking at you and driving on is old news. Unless it was Channing Tatum, you need to be less excited about this. You aren’t the first gal to be honked at and you won’t be the last. Guys don’t put a lot of deep thought into selecting that one special recipient of their honking attentions. “I’ve thought a lot about this, circled the block a few times, and it just feels right, I know this is the girl I want to honk my horn at.” I don’t know why women are so flattered by this, like a Nicholas Sparks novel is unfolding around them. This is not the stuff of fairy tales. It is just what guys do. Do you not know how this works? Was this your first time out in public? If I wrapped a sarong around a mailbox, some bozo at some point would drive by and honk at it.

The irony here is that girls tell you these stories because they think it makes them look good. They must be thinking, That’s right, I got honked at today, did you? Didn’t think so. But think about it: if such a small thing is such a big deal to you, does that make you look like a confident person who gets hit on all the time, or an insecure person who gets hit on so little that getting honked at is the best thing that’s ever happened to her? And that is the catch with any sort of bragging; the thing you are bragging about rarely compensates for the insecurity that your need to brag reveals.