The smaller portion of lasagna. I got the recipe from the Neelys on the Food Network a few weeks ago, and I quickly typed it up and saved it in a file on my laptop. I've always heard that this is one of the harder dishes to make, even more difficult to make it right.As I pulled the casseroles from the blazing hot oven, I thought I did a pretty fine job. I was so impressed with my effort that I even threw together a hearty green salad with some large, ripe tomato and feta cheese. Needless to say, I cut several squares from the smaller pan and handed some out to those who were wanting to try it. Now, I only have the larger dish left.
Another one of my creations. The one pastry I've made to date of which I am most proud. I don't know what to call it. It's a layer of sugar cookie dough baked golden brown, smothered in a thick layer of sweet orange marmalade, sprinkled with roasted almonds and walnuts, and drizzles and gobs of melted chocolate.
The highlight of this, my last week before the fall semester begins... the arrival of my sponsor from Las Vegas on Sunday afternoon. We waited for her bags then drove to El Chico for a Tex Mex treat and a much needed face-to-face heart-to-heart. After lunch, I realized that my fears and frustrations had been lifted. I felt that I was indeed on the right path with all the recent changes in my life, and I have a big, beautiful future ahead of me if I can only keep forward momentum.
So, what am I doing for 101 Days and Nights of Redemption? Here's a picture of me taken in the mirror that encapsulates a medicine cabinet filled with tweezers and floss and bandaids and hair products and body glitter and hair dye and colognes and oils and hand sanitizers and everything else that I enjoy utilizing when the door is closed and I can pamper myself and experience my gayest gay side.
Notice the post-its all over the mirror. I posted those about two weeks ago... they're just reminders. These remind me to floss, to remember my goals, to go back and do some push ups or sit ups... to make healthy choices. I have similar post-its all over my desk/study area. They ask me if I've been to a meeting, if I've worked on my step... I need to be able to look up and read one and tell myself to get up and do something... the books and the internet and the notecards and the syllabus (syllabuses or syllabi?) will be waiting for me upon my return.
What else? I still haven't quit smoking, but the idea is there... sometimes close to the forefront of my thoughts, sometimes buried below everything else that's pressing and necessary for the day.
I haven't been exercising. What am I waiting for? What's stopping me? I have my alarm set for six in the morning so I can get up and drive to NSU for fee payment and renewal of my id and a new parking sticker and about one thousand dollars' worth of text books and gadgets that are necessary for the months between the end of August and the beginning of December. I'm planning to get up and rush my coffee to kick in, but I really should try to shoot for about twenty to thirty minutes earlier so I can at least stretch, crunch, strengthen, and get my blood circulating, and my thoughts moving in a positive and healthy direction.
I've been thinking a lot about my past. Both the short-term and the long-term. In regards to school, work, sponsorship, meeting attendance, and all the little white lies that I told myself for so long.
Sometime during my first twelve months in recovery, my sponsor (the old, persnicketty lady who now lives in Nevada) suggested that I get a hobby. I read. I write. What other hobby do I need? She wanted me to do something that required effort, not necessarily expense. Something that required the use of my hands and minimal use of my mind once the creativity sets in. Juli works in her garden ("dirt therapy" she calls it), Jamie paints (and my walls are slowly being covered with her efforts), Krissy collects elephants (and I get her one every chance I have). I've always considered myself creative, but more with words and language and stories.
And I collect everything. Books. Movies. Music. Art. Clothes. Shoes. Bad habits. Bills. Odd medical issues.... additionally, I've begun collecting the little tabs of fortune that I greedily snatch from Chinese fortune cookies. I tape them all over my desk. Along the lines of the shelves and the parts that rise to hold my supplies and movies and other whatnots.
I tried painting and creating a collage. Nothing really did it for me, but somewhere, sometime, at some point, I began cooking. My famous chicken salad, jambalaya, tuna... I found that I liked putting everything together, trying new recipes... it led to me requesting a cutting of lime basil and chocolate mint, that led to gardening. Now I have plants. I have dishes. Recipe lists.
I think I have my outlets recognized and set up. Was that one of my goals for 101 Days and Nights in Pursuit of Redemption?
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