Cheese was my quintessential comfort food. I was the person who made a beeline to the baked Brie at cocktail parties. Baked potatoes, chili and tacos were merely cheese delivery vehicles, a simple base upon which to heap mounds of shredded cheddar and Monterrey Jack. And don't even get me started on the wedge salad. Sure, it's got bacon, but it was the creamy, crumbly, blue cheese goodness that had me at "hello."
My lifelong romance with cheese came to an abrupt halt three years ago when a new doctor – a naturopath – suggested I give up dairy. I'd sought her help for some ongoing health issues, including chronic pain, fatigue, depression and an inability to lose weight—what many now call FLC Syndrome: Feel Like Crap.
Credit: someecards.com Facebook’s “people you may know” feature is alternatingly annoying and creepy. The SOTFs (Same Old Tired Faces) dance across my screen daily, urging me to send “friend requests” to people with whom I have little in common, have never heard of or, in some cases, have made a point of not engaging. Yes, I know “Frank” and I have 59 mutual friends, so Facebook figures we must know each other. But we don’t. Never met him in person or online. As far as I can tell, we’ve never even commented on the same posts. Not friending Frank. “Gigi” and I have 20 mutual friends. I’ve known her casually for 15 years or so and we’ve always been friendly. She’s a person I could run into and have a quick, pleasant chat but we’ve never made lunch dates, exchanged birthday cards or dished over the phone. Zuckerberg is dying for us to become Facebook friends. But if Gigi keeps popping up on my “people you may know” list, I’d guess I’m popping on hers, as well. So why fo...
I reach for the bananas in the grocery store and feel an unexpected pang of sadness. Out of the blue, I miss my mother. Over years of her decline, I chauffeured her on errands and sighed deeply when she admitted she’d meant to make a list, but… I knew what would be on the list—muffins, butter pecan ice cream and bananas—but I wanted her to write it all down. Addled by dementia, not only did she forget to make shopping lists, she often couldn’t remember how to use her cell phone or turn on the TV. I knew it wasn’t her fault. Even so, there were times when my patience wore thin. If only she could jot down a few grocery items on a piece of scrap paper or the back of an envelope, I could take it as a sign that she still had some faculties. Twenty months after her death, here I am frozen in momentary grief in front of the banana stand. We didn’t agree on bananas. I preferred them firm and still tinged with green, she agreed with Chiquita Banana’s recommendati...
As seen on BuzzFeed... Photo courtesy of NBC No matter how much we love our families, there can be such a thing as Too Much Family Togetherness. The holidays are just barely past, so you probably know what I’m talking about. It’s those quirky little expressions, mannerisms or habits—sometimes they were even endearing at first—that begin to drive us crazy. For the most part, I’ll be sorry to bid farewell to the Braverman clan when NBC’s Parenthood signs off this week after six seasons, but there a few things about them I’m not going to miss. 1. The way Zeek never called the kids by their names, always addressing them as “grandson” or “granddaughter.” It was cute at first, but then I began to worry that maybe Grandpa had dementia and truly couldn’t remember their names. Zeek, meet your grandchildren. Their names are Amber, Drew, Sydney, Victor, Jabbar, Aida, Norah, Max and Haddie. Speaking of which… where the heck is Haddie, the forgotten Braverman? Banished to col...
Comments
Post a Comment
Would love to hear from you! Due to spam, comments are moderated before publishing.