Only cowards cook on low

My holiday miracle came early this year: I brined and cooked a turkey for Thanksgiving that came out absolutely perfect. It was one of those vegetarian fed, free range, kosher, antibiotic free, stress free, yoga turkeys. The damn bird probably ate better than I do. I only mention this because I have a super short attention span. Add a creative approach to recipes, and cooking is always an adventure. Yes, I have set things on fire by accident because I got distracted. My kitchen motto: “Only cowards cook on low”. That translates to messy fun that isn’t always edible.

I want to mention that I didn’t do the shopping thing on Black Friday. I think it’s revolting and I’m embarrassed that our nation eats to the point of gluttony, then tramples others in the bloody consumerism quest. Instead, I drank tea, made cakes, and didn’t buy anything. Material shit means nothing anyway, unless it’s yummy food with friends. 

Sooo, I have this kind of fucked up image of going to see the doctor and them telling me I only have a few months to live. What balls out kind of activities could I pack in before I bit it? The first thing I would do is sell my car,  pack only a few essentials in a backpack, grab my passport, and head for the airport. If nothing else, trying to think and speak a foreign language is distracting, and maybe I could make some art on a different continent. 

Crap, I totally don’t want to go to the doctor, so I am procrastinating like a professional. I don’t want to hear the latest damage that I’ve inflicted on myself. Fuck. I try to not be picky or ask too much, but breathing is quite helpful. Funny how all this shit comes to a head a month before my health care kicks in.

What I would do with six months to live (not in order):

Go somewhere sunny and go windsurfing again

Make a giant cake out of natural materials somewhere random and isolated- like Mongolia

Start to learn a few new languages

Paint, write, do as much art as I can

Burn all my old journals

Donate everything to charity except my sister’s ashes (not sure about those)

Throw my phone away and go back to writing letters and postcards

Take my magical pink iPod and dance until I was done

Is that all too morbid to think about? Can anyone tell it’s shark week and I feel like I got sucked by a vampire? Totally exhausted, it’s time for a nap.

Love to all


Breathing- Lifehouse

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