Musings of a Seeker

  I allowed myself to be cheese shamed at the store the other day and it wasn't even done by a proper monger. As I walked to the back corner of the store where the cheese lives, I could feel my heartbeat quicken with anticipation. You see, I had just found a brand of cottage cheese called “good” and not only is the company super responsible with how they source their milk, but they also make really good cottage cheese, which, in my opinion, is almost as rare as a well-fitting pair of 9 inch high rise bicycle shorts. There is a food in England that properly captures that experience for me; two sausages topped by something soft and amorphous...yes, bangers and mash.  Anyway, back to my current food addiction. I made a stop, inconvenient though it was; I think I was running late to get my dog to the vet, which is more evidence that getting my tubes tied was a good thing. But you see, I had run out of my good that morning and I don’t like being out of my favorite foods. It leaves ...

  It occurred to me the other day as I pulled back the sheets on my bed that I never smell like chocolate.       I had a flashback to the days of my youth when I smelled like a distillery when I was drinking. There were moments in hot yoga rooms in those days when I was worried the person in triangle pose next to me might get pulled over for a DUI on her way home, unable to explain to the police officer why she was blowing above a .08 on a Sunday afternoon, now running late to make Sunday night dinner for her two happy children and her adoring husband, what a bummer. Guilty by proximity of the yoga mat.       There were a couple times when I wanted to see if what I drank changed the aroma of the distillery. For instance, if I drank tequila, would a bystander ask me if I’d had a 3 margarita lunch the next day. Or perhaps, I could at least be considerate about it. My boyfriend really liked whiskey, so maybe I could drink whiskey and be like one...