Dish it out.....

When I was a little girl, my mom and grandma tell stories of how I would 'help' bake cookies and ever so Not slyly steal chocolate chips when I thought no one was looking. I have great memories of baking sugar cookies around the holidays, and no one can forget the blueberry pie making spree I went on in 8th grade after learning how to perfect the best crust in home ec. It really wasn't though, until the past few years that I have begun this love affair with cooking. Yes, I still enjoy baking, but for me it's the unique and gourment ingredients that I really love. Nothing is more fun to me than watching Food Network and Paula Dean or Bobby Flay, or Big Bites with Guy, or barefoot Contessa (even though she is totally snobbish and weird) and THEN trying to remember all the ingredients and making the dish myself....I LOVE IT!

Cooking is like anything else, the more you practice, the better you get. It takes many years to learn 'tricks' and I am NO WHERE near a chef,,,but I hope to get closer to that someday. Tonight is homemade chicken parmesan, pasta, spinach gorgonzola and maybe something lemony for dessert. The other thing that is important to me is healthy cooking. Sure everyone wants cheese on a burger,,,,duh.....but my challenge to myself is preparing tasty, inexpensive (if possible) meals that everyone (including the kids) love. It can get tricky, but it is possible. I was at Target today picking up some needed items and I thought "I will just go over and LOOK at the cooking supplies" I stood there for far too long and one of the employees asked if I was working on a registry...hahahahaha....no but maybe I will register for my 9th anniversary in April! And I also think I am the last person on earth that does NOT have a kitchenaid mixer....hint hint.....!!!

This happened.

The reason I want to post this is that I want to be able to remember all the details of this one day many years from now, because I am quite certain that it wouldn't/couldn't ever happen again. Also, this post isn't exactly 'politically correct' I guess, but it is my blog and I can say whatever I want. It's hard enough for me because I am very funny and I have to turn my filter on a lot so that my humor doesn't come out wrong. But there is nothing quite like what happened a few weeks ago when I was returning back to work after a mid-morning meeting. This is where my politically correctness goes down the drain.

I have always had a fascination with midgets. I KNOW they are people, I am not saying that, but it's just....well, I stare at them. I can't help it. And so you have to know that first off. They also make me nervous, I HAVE no idea why, but it's true. Back to my story.

So there I sit at another very long stop light and I just happen to glance over through my passenger side window and I see the (I am not kidding here)...absolute largest van I think I have ever seen in my life. I thought...WHOA.....what in the world is in that thing? Then it happened. After processing this giant van, I will admit I expected to see a huge big truck driver looking man piloting such a beast on the road.

Nope. I saw the smallest little person I had ever seen. I could see the tops of his wee little shoes sticking up from the seat and then WORST of all, he grabbed a can of coke and then tipped back to drink it. OF COURSE my eyes must have been huge...what can I say? My mind was racing....how could he drive this thing? Is this legal? Safe? Does he wear a seatbelt? How does he look to change lanes!?

I guess I must have stared a bit too long. The light turned green, the guy behind me laid on the horn for me to GO, and the little person in the big van flipped me the tiny bird and sped off.

I have told numerous people this story, I even announced it to some just minutes after I walked back into work completely astonished.

Today I miss my dad

I know that it's been 16 years,,,but today I miss my dad. I want to talk to him. I want to tell him that I need him. That I think about him all the time. I want to ask him questions about life...I don't want to be harshly judged...I just want to talk to him. I so crave and hurt for his opinion and I have had many years to 'heal' but sometimes I just want to be the little girl that still had her dad. This post is NOT about feeling sorry for myself. I know that things happen for reasons that hopefully one day I will know. But I can not say that sometimes I wish to ask my dad about what he thinks. God gives me my dreams with him occasionaly. My heart hurts because I wonder so often what he would think; I want his opinon, I need his advice. This pain never goes away. I trust in God that all things happen for a reason, and I know that my Dad was taken when I was 15, my brother was 13 and my mom was so young...for a reason...but at times I just wish I had him here. Tonight I am sad. My heart hurts. Because I rejoice that my dad is in a good place....but tonight I miss you dad. I wish you were here so that I could share my worries and my happiness with you. I will always have you in my heart.