A couple days ago, after a rather harsh freak out of mine, my lovely husband knew just what to do to cheer me up. Joe made up the couch bed in the living room, popped popcorn on the stove<3, and let me pick any chick flick I wanted. See, I ask to watch these alleged "chick flick" movies rather regularly, but unfortunately, Joe does not share my passion for women and their drama. After some serious internal debating (for such an opportunity as this should not be taken lightly), I decided on Julie and Julia.
Needless to say, I loveddd it. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that I HAD to do the same challenge and learn so much about myself and food and end up in Paris and blah blah blah. Umm... totally never going to happen. I do not have the time, patience nor money to take on such a journey.
So, my next idea was that I needed to cook more. When I told Joe this, he grabbed the computer and started searching for cooking classes for me (Cute gesture in supporting my fantasies, but I can't help but think he is trying to send me a message... =/ eek).
We ended up seeing that cooking classes are way to expensive and that I do not need to learn how to cook, I just need to learn what to cook. The hours and hours I invested in my brief addiction to the Food Network definitely taught me a thing or two about making my way around the kitchen. It's just recipes that I need to get more familiar with.
With that being said, Joe and I landed on Eggs Benedict. It was well past midnight at this point, but we were unstoppable. We went to the store, gathered our supplies, and headed back to the kitchen to try a hand at poaching eggs and whisking hollandaise sauce.
Now, it was no Julia Child meal, do not get your hopes up. The egg yokes were a little firm and the hollandaise sauce was... interesting. The experience, however, was one in a million. I love those moments where it is so blatantly clear that I married the most amazing man and could not ask for anything more. The poor guy tags along on these fantasies of mine knowing he has to work the next day, yet never allowing a minute to go by of not being present with me and enjoying my happiness.
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The next day I decided I am done being depressed and wallowing in my sorrows (I'm not sure it works that way, but it's worth a shot =]). So far, so good. I have tapped into my inner optimist. With every ounce of bad I may experience, I am able to pair numerous goods that can easily out way it. I may be dealing with vertigo and revisiting emotions of a loss, but I have an unbelievably loving husband who will not leave me to suffer alone and I have a God that knows all and has eternal love for me.
"Happiness is a choice." ....a concept that has been drilled into me by Morrie Schwartz and my big brother. I mustn't forget to make the correct choice, or else! *thumb sliding over the neck*
Onward and Upward,
Laurel Smith
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