by letting go, I moved forward

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It amazes me how much stuff I own.  Clothes. Shoes. Papers. Unfinished projects. Books. Movies.  I suppose I blame it on acquiring things over the last five years after moving from apartment to apartment.  I always felt like I had a use for everything I kept, or that I would be able to use it in the future.

But then I decided to move out of the country and it was finally time to do something about it.  I've slowly been cleaning and packing over the last couple months, but today was the first time that I dedicated an entire day to packing.  For the last few weeks I've been avoiding everything.  Emotions. Packing. Cleaning. Goodbyes.  Truth is, I honestly cannot believe I'm doing this.  

Today, I cleaned out the clutter.  I tossed clothes I haven't worn in six months into white trash bags for donation.  I boxed up books, stuffed animals and pictures I won't be taking with me.  I let go of shoes I have only worn a few times, sweatshirts that I've had since I was in high school, and ripped jeans that are my absolute favorite, but I know I'll never wear again.  By letting go, I moved forward.

Today, I sent out a few long awaited emails that I knew would be emotionally difficult to send, but was something I had to do to get closure on my own terms.  I contacted people from my past to acknowledge our differences and mistakes that have been made.  By letting go, I moved forward.

Today, I organized my paperwork for Prague, made a check list of things I need to do before I leave, and things I need to do immediately upon landing.  I sat with the feeling of being overwhelmed by the process it will take for me to get transported from Prague Airport to my apartment.  Emotionally, I moved forward.

Today, I realized that less is more.  For the last six years I have been holding onto materialistic items - old clothes, old shoes, old makeup - things I don't need in order to live.  I put an old dress I had been holding onto for three years - a dress I had only worn once, but carries a ton of wonderful memories with it.  I forced myself to add it into the donation bag.  You know you're never going to wear this again, I said to myself.  By letting go, I moved forward.

It's funny to think about how much we hold onto - materialistically and emotionally.  We hold on because we're afraid to let go; we're afraid to find out who we become once we no longer have those things.  But sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is let go.  

Today, I moved forward. 

if I could bottle up my emotions right now and hand it to someone, I'd label it 'f*ck'

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I'm neglecting this blog. 

Not intentionally.  Okay, maybe intentionally.  For one, I'm writing for Stratejoy every week and I'm already having a tough time trying to pump out posts for that.  Two, I have so many thoughts running through my brain and I just don't know how to write them down without busting into tears. 

I feel like I'm in a glass case of emotions.

Ten points to whoever catches that movie reference.

I'm just... so...

scared. terrified. sad. excited. nervous. anxious. overwhelmed. stressed. upset. depressed.

and...

and...

and...

I'm basically feeling every god damn emotion a human being could possibly feel, all at once.  And I don't know how the fuck to deal with it.  I spend my nights laying in bed watching netflix instead of packing because I'm just too fucking terrified to embrace the fact that I'm leaving.  I spend most of my time with my two best girl friends because I'm so effing upset and sad to leave them and I know I'm going to break down into tears when I say goodbye to them.  I've canceled plans with other friends because I just can't fucking see them, knowing it's one more 'goodbye' I have to say.  I'm too upset about going home to Pittsburgh to see my brother because I don't know when I'm going to see him again.

Fuck.

Sorry, I had to say it.  Because if I could bottle up everything I'm feeling and hand it to someone as a present, I would say, I got you a bottle of 'fuck.'

And then they'd be all, WTF? 

And I'd be all, I know.  I don't know.  Don't ask.  I don't know.  Fuck.

I swear, I'm not bi-polar.  

......yet. 

in the kitchen

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Some people choose to go to the gym.  Or drink a glass bottle of wine.  Or hang out with friends.  Or read a book.  But when I'm having a bad day, all I want to do is go home and cook.  I know, it sounds so weird.  Work all day and then go home and work even more all night.  Sounds exhausting, right? 

I've been cooking since I was a little girl.  Both of my parents were ah.may.zing. cooks so they taught me and my brothers well.  After my father passed away, my mother went back to school to pursue a Master's degree while working full-time.  Clearly, this didn't leave much time for her to cook dinner for the family, so I stepped up to the plate.  Every night for three years, I cooked dinner.  While for some children it may seem like a chore, for me it wasn't.  In fact, it was something I looked forward to every night.  Creating recipes, playing with fire spices, and experimenting with bold flavors. 

My passion for life is in my food.  

I realized this tonight, after making three trips to three different grocery stores in the city looking for ricotta cheese.  Seriously, Trader Joe's doesn't carry ricotta cheese?!  

Tonight, I tested out a my own concoction for stuffed strawberries - ricotta cheese, cream cheese, powdered sugar and vanilla.  I'm sure there's a recipe out there somewhere, or someone's already thought of this, so I can't really take credit for it.  I never thought to pair ricotta cheese with fruit, but it's amazing how delicious it turned out.  This was actually a dry run for my big Super Bowl Sunday Brunch that I'm making for some friends.  I made two dozen stuffed strawberries and I ate all of them in ten minutes four hours.   

Don't judge me.

Earlier this week I also made Thai Basil Chicken with rice from scratch, and for the rest of the weekend I'm getting my hands dirty with a rosemary chicken & spinach salad, turkey meatballs (and maybe an attempt at homemade spaghetti sauce), and ricotta-blueberry pancakes. 

I don't use recipes because I hate them (I also hate measurements), but I decided to start writing things down so I can take credit for it in the future.  And for when I open up my own restaurant/bed & breakfast.

I dream big, what can I say.

Got any good recipes for me?  I promise I won't steal them.  Or at least give you credit for them.

Maybe.

PS:  Did you read my intro post on Stratejoy yet?  I'll be blogging there every Friday for the next six months.   Lots of delicious and honest writing.  Check me out, yo.