Cooking with Gas

Dear Readers, I want to take a moment to say thank you. To each and every one of you. Post after post, you keep coming back even though my heart is stupid and brain is buttfuck crazy at times. I know I act like I am brand new to the bullshit that comes my way (seriously, it is the same shit, different man) and get all discombobulated when I face the consequences of my actions (it is just a matter of time before DC hauls me away in handcuffs for fraud and evasion). It’s a lot all the way around: to live it, to write it and to read it. So thank you for being here and sticking around.

Today was not the best day: low energy; evil, evil thoughts towards PC/CP and the MG; an unexpected and inexplicable crying spell that lasted at least an hour; Cuz came over and left some icky, oily black crap all over my carpet and the hospital bill came. $12,000 for a 2 ½ day stay. It was enough to make me write a goodbye note, walk down to the basement and jump out the window. But there were bright spots: get well cards from my baby sis and a cousin (hers had $20 in it!), my company is reinstating medical/dental/vision benefits and my rates did not increase (going to find out if it is retroactive) and phone calls from Artsy Craftsy and Chef.

The phone call from Chef ended up being an argument… no surprise there. He is the one panel member I pretty much have daily arguments with. I swear I am going to dump him for good and for all one day. Not now though. Now, I am trying to let things just be, ride the waves of emotions (that is the only action I need to be taking) and for real, I have gotten used to the evening tiffs. He says he likes pushing my buttons and I enjoy being able to vent about the frustrations of my day, my job, my lack of a love life via a pointless argument with someone who will not take it personally. Besides, he says I am his BEST friend. Ever. No way are we ever breaking up. Life is a ride, and I called shotgun with this fool. Without further ado, here is my love letter to Chef. Check back soon to see if I have been stupid(er), if I have finally caved in and gotten a cat and for more love letters and updates. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

My Dearest Chef:

Without a doubt, you hold the title of the most unorthodox beginning to a friendship…ever. I was being totally inappropriate when you crawled under my desk to help me get some wiring untangled. I was sitting in my chair, looking at your juicy, very squeezable ass and when I went to check the firmness of it, I over reached and grabbed your balls instead. And so began a friendship that has lasted ten years, the death of your fiancée, failed relationships on my end and numerous instances of “just because it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time.”

I love you but you already know that. What I love about you, what you are to me…is my laughter. Strange to put it that way since you are the resident cynic and my problem child but you are my laughter when I have none. You make me smile through my tears, you make me laugh before the depression settles in for the long haul and you help me rejoice in happiness and success. You have been there for ALL of my relationships and you never told when Married Man showed up at the Island looking like Chicken George Goes to Town. (Thank you for that…the man’s outfit was an embarrassment); you were there when I had that first Thanksgiving after Him left…you cut your holiday with your family short to make sure I was okay and did your best to keep me laughing to prevent anymore tears from falling. You were the one who helped me make sense of the AFO disaster and when I thought PC/CP and I were done that first time…you were the one I cried to.

You are the one who knows that besides/beyond being happy, what I want is a true long term relationship with one man who will ensure I am his one and only woman. You know I want someone to laugh with, cry with, share my day and my nights with without worry. You understand me wanting to be able to feel stable, sure and being able to trust unconditionally and without fear. You do not push me to get over it, move on or snap out of it…I will let go when I am ready and some of us take a little longer to get ready. I know you want me to be a lady at all times and that my foul mouth and horrible (but so apt and funny) phrases and names for the men and the situations piss you off and frustrate you. You are the one who tells me before the stupidity and crazy pops off that I am so much better than the men I choose; you are the one with the warnings to slow down and see the big picture even though you know I won’t. And you are always the one to be there to help me pick up the pieces and show me how they fit into the puzzle.

Aside from your ability to make me laugh, I love how open you are with me with everything. We talk about sex, porn, your fiancée, my stupid men, future plans, laugh over past loves. And your caring…it is so simple yet deep and sincere. You always without fail email me good morning and call me at night; when I am sick, you are always the first one to ask how I am feeling and now you (along with every other senior panel member) are all over me about diet, exercise, sleep, sugar levels…and when my heart is broken, you are the first one to offer the bandage. You are the one who listens (patiently) to my speculations, analyses, and questions. You are the one who asks what lessons were learned, you are the one who tells me all the validation I need is in my mirror and in the people I am surrounded by, not in the ones who left.

You are so many and bring so many things into my life that are amazing, positive and empowering…and I get to argue with you without judgment or consequence?? Yeah, I got us being friends for life…besides, you already know too much. I am so very thankful that I met you and that our friendship has grown deeper and more special with each passing year. Thank you for sharing your insight, wisdom and laughter with me. Thank you for your patience, your caring, your friendship. Thank you for being my Chef.


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