Twenty-nine eve.

It’s officially my 29th birthday via east coast time.

Four more hours and I will be saying the same here in Hawaii.  Twenty nine years brings so many different memories.  This year there is a bittersweet edge to the closing of 2011.

It’s obviously a new beginning and 29 will without a doubt bring successes and triumphs and new amazing growth that my life has never known.  For this I am sure.

No one likes getting older.  Who really wants to grown anyways?  I have discovered things over the past years that I think are worth sharing.

I appreciated 28 greatly even though it brought a bitter ending to my eternal vow to the man that I loved the most in my life.  Even though the married love has come and gone, Steve (by the grace of God himself) and I have been able to salvage a friendship and still love and support each other.  This means the world to me.  In fact, it proves that we didn’t completely faulter on most of our marriage vows.  We did in fact promise to take care of each other for the rest of our lives and I know without a doubt, even though we fell out of “that” type of love we will always be there no matter what. A friend told me a couple of weeks ago that love never ends…I couldn’t agree more it just changes.

I have learned that it is always possible to love…even when you feel like you can’t.

My early twenties brought me a lot of confusion and heartache.  I won’t deny that at that time in my life I was incapable of truly knowing what it meant to love someone.  Especially unconditionally. I subjected myself to a lot of heartache and didn’t understand what it meant to give and take.  Even if I was the one giving.  Love is not lust, it isn’t sex, it isn’t a gift, it isn’t a ring or a fancy wedding.  Love to me is seeing that person at their worst.  Love is helping someone bring in their “Baggage” to your life and saying, “Hey.  We’ve all been there” with a smile.  Love isn’t the most handsome or most beautiful.  Love isn’t the smartest or most agile.  Love isn’t the stereotype…the acceptable.  Though in honestly love can be a combination of all these things.  Love is letting go.  A place where the only expectations of one another are honesty.  Love is the silence, the closeness.  Love is the passion and the laughter.  Love is the heartbreak and the recovery.  Love is I will stand by your side no matter what, meaning…someday…we will be old as hell and maybe I might have to wipe your ass but I love you so much that I would do that.

Hearts get damaged.  But let me tell you a small truth about these brilliant little organs.  They recover phenomenally.  If you let them.  I think it’s funny when I go on a date and I nonchalantly ask about the guy’s ex girlfriend.  Over half the time I am given the same response.  ”She was crazy.”  Let me tell the world something.  Everyone is crazy in some form or fashion…in one way or another.  ALL OF US have fucked up ghosts and demons.  ALL of us have have emotional damage.  But not all of us handle it the same.  Sometimes there ‘s shit that just get’s our heart caught up.  Afraid.  Sometimes that emotional damage is combined with mental illness and YES then you really have a situation on your hands.  However, I believe for a greater percentage of us there was just those couple of people who took our hearts, ripped them out and handed us back something very broken.  Now, confused, we hold onto those broken hearts saying, “Look what you did!  You broke it! It’s never going to be the same because of you.”  We then continue to walk through life holding onto the bitter shards of a very broken heart.  Not realizing that we have the capability to fix it.  We have the God given free will.  We have the CHOICE.  It’s possible to love again if you believe that you can.  Look back.  Hasn’t your heart done it over and over?  Then it can happen again.

I have learned to be me.

I will say that I am so happy to have finally met myself.  Because I will tell you what.  For the first half of my twenties I didn’t have a fucking clue who I was or what I wanted.  I wore clothes that were “in” even thought they looked freakin stupid on me.  I highlighted, waxed, painted, tanned and dieted my way into the opposite direction of myself.  I dated guys who always told me I needed to be something else to make them happy.  I based myself worth off of how happy my significant other was with me.  Pretty sad right?  This led me to be unsure of myself.  I constantly questioned if I was pretty, if I was enough.  I starved.  I ran.  I cried.  Shit, I have even contemplated plastic surgery a couple times.  28 and a divorce later brought me back from the dead.  Brought me to eating what I want to eat within moderation.  Dating has made me realize that I don’t have to be 100 lbs because genetically speaking I WILL NEVER BE 100 lbs.  I found that in the men that I have dated…the tell me how much they like the way that I am.  This weekend while at Black House white market looking for a holiday party dress, I was helped by this very nice gay guy who was helping me pick the perfect outfit.  I ended up trying on this awesome  black retro dress.  When I walked out of the dressing room he slightly gasp and under his breath he said, “Damn”.  I made a gay guy say ‘Damn’. LOL  That felt good.

When I looked in the mirror I thought…Good for you Leanne.  Welcome to your curves.  I love the fact that I have curves now.  I literally banned shorts for almost all of 26.  Now I own 5 pairs.  Sex with the lights on?  Yes, please.  I hope that all women can find a man who appreciates them…and lets them know.  A man that makes a woman feel sexy and wanted.  That’s a real man.  A man that appreciates you and everything that comes with you.

I have learned to ask for help.

When I was younger I never asked for help and I carried that with me for a long time.  Asking for help made you weak and as a woman I never wanted to be portrayed as such.  I struggled for a long time because I stupidly never wanted anyone to know that I needed help with anything.  Even if it was as simple as help with learning how to fry a steak.  How silly?  I have realized that it is okay to ask for help because as Dr. Suess says “those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

This concludes Twenty nine eve.  Because it’s only going to get better…stay tuned.

Gratitude.

I have a lot to be thankful for.

Even though my life has been a series of serious challenges…I still have a lot to be thanking my lucky stars for.

First and foremost, I thank God.  I thank God that even though there have been times when I have been cussing him and the high heavens he has never let me down.  Every time I swore that I couldn’t do it, God has pushed me further than I thought was possible.

I thank God that he gives me the strength and the courage to take the extra step even when I thought the I didn’t have the energy to go another.  I thank God that I never gave up even though sometimes I just wanted to stop and take a break, or turn back the other way.  There are plenty of mistakes I have made and I thank God for making me face them even though sometimes they are painful.

I am going through facing one of the biggest challenges/obstacles in my life.  In these moments I am dying and becoming reborn.  Did I ever tell you I hate to be alone?

I mean, of course EVERYONE hates to be alone.  But I am such a people person, and it’s been so long that I have been alone…that sometimes it’s kinda scary being in my apartment by myself.  Alone as you know equals quiet.  Which quiet as you know equals thinking.  Thinking means too much and too much means worrying.

Tell me about it.  It’s been four months since I have been separated and I can honestly tell you it has felt like ten years.  Now that I am sitting here and it’s quiet and I am thinking, I just can’t believe the shit that has happened.  As much as you try to stay sane when you get divorced, the reality is you go a bit insane temporarily.  While I sit here now and reflect back on my actions over the past couple of months, some of the choices that I have made happen to be a little out of character for me.  I set up a couple of safety nets for myself that turned into spider webs, had a couple of arguments, made a hoarding room, ate too many sweets, chopped off my hair, stayed up too late worrying if I would ever be loved again, signed up for a dating web site, cancelled the dating website subscription, stopped talking to half of my best friends ever, and spent way to much money.  With all that said, I thought I was making rational decisions during all of this when in reality…I was acting foolish.  I, of course, totally forgive myself.  I actually sit here now and think it’s comical that I even thought for a split second some of these decisions were good.  Through this I just made things a lot more complicated for myself than they should have been.  Coming out of the last two years of my marriage being terrible and me being unhappy, I just felt like the flood gates dropped when it was over.  All of the glitter and acrylic paints that make up my blood came pouring out everywhere.  I couldn’t tell the fuscia from the evergreen…it’s looked like a Lady Gaga concert gone wrong.

My Mom is the best Mom ever.  My Mom just flew here for two weeks and literally turned my house into a home.  I can breathe again and I can look around for the first time in a long time and say “this is me.”  God and my Mom gave me the strength this week to cut the spider webs away from me that were keeping me prisoner.  I was able to stand up finally and yank the leaches off and toss them in the trash where they belong.  I was courageous and came clean.  People wonder why the hell I put my business out here on this Blog.  I want people to be able to read at least one part of my blog and know they aren’t the only ones.  I am not ashamed of who I am, where I came from or what I’ve done.  The good and the bad make me…and I assure you there has been a lot more bad than good.  But that makes my life.  I live everyday like it is my last and I always will.  My Mom told me this week that life is a classroom and there are no right or wrong answers…just lessons to learn.  I agree with that whole heartedly.  If all the mistakes we made were wrong…how did those mistakes lead us to the right in our lives?

I am slow like a tortoise but my heart is strong and on fire.  Remember when I told you I was afraid to be alone?  Well, guess what?  I’m not anymore.  Because I know that I won’t always be alone and I LOVE ME.  I refuse to listen to the voice that occasionally tries to make us feel less than what we are.  The one that says to me “Who will love you after all that has happened?” “You will never find someone…you are the unlovable.” “You are not fast enough, you are incapable.”  I am sure you all know that voice that speaks similar words to you.  I no longer let that voice speak to me the way that it use to.  That voice kept me in a box.  That voice was built from numerous real voices that told me throughout my life that I was not capable.  I was not enough.  For some reason, we always store the things that hurt the most only to punish ourselves years later with excuses why we can’t.  That type of fear can build into something terrible.  Trust me.  I can name a couple of instances in my life where fear has kept me from growing.  With fear you will never reach your full potential.  Fear will steal you life, your heart and your spirit.

If you have known me for a while you would know that I have always up until recently NEVER was a great runner.  Why?  Ok, yeah I smoked for a while.  But I was afraid.  When my Navy career first started I was running with a group of marines and fell back during a seven mile run with a couple other girls.  A marine came up to me (I was an E2 at the time) and was screaming at me how I should have worked at Wal-Mart because I was such a piece of shit for not being able to run and keep up.  The fear seed was planted.  Every morning I woke up and I ran till literally my calves would freeze up.  I got shin splints and Achilles tendonitis trying to become faster.  But you know what the truth is…IM NOT FAST!!!!  Every group run for many years to come, I would have anxiety of falling out of the pack.  Again, when i entered the fleet I fell out again during a formation run and my Command Master chief made all of the people who fell out pick up trash and tried to put us all on mandatory PT training.  The fear just kept growing.  The anxiety got so bad that when I would run…I couldn’t even make it a half mile because I couldn’t breathe because of the fear.  Then one day last year I said you know what FUCK IT.  I started training the right way.  I took that fear tree and ripped it from the roots and started running races at MY PACE and in my time.  I was also diagnosed with asthma (but that’s a whole other story).  I run now.  I run and I love it.  I am not fast and in certain races I am in the middle and others I am toward the back.  But it doesn’t matter.  What matters is I am running into my fear not away.  I have proved to that fuck face marine (would I love to see that son of a bitch now) that maybe he should work at Wal-Mart.

I have a built a lifetime of ridiculous fears.  One thing is for certain, there will never be a life lived without fear.  But we have to remind ourselves that we are capable and it is possible no matter what we face.  What is a life without challenge?  Turn around and face your fears.

Granted, there are still days when I wonder if I will ever be married again.  If I will ever have children…if I will lead the life in which I have imagined.  But I look around and think about how thankful I am for now.  That I was able to break the chains of my fears, I was strong enough to kick my addiction (smoking), I have an imperfectly perfect family who I love, I have the best friends EVER, I have a Navy family which I love.  I am loved.

It isn’t water and food that make a human live.  It’s love.  If you are loved by just one person in the world…with that you can do the impossible.  Make it a habit to show love everyday.  Not just to the people you love, but also those who don’t know you.  Give of yourself without expecting back this month.  I am going to start my December “giving love back” for 30 days I am going to give love back in one way or another to prove that I am thankful.  I will keep you posted.  I love you.

Dirt Road Prayer

“Dreams are always crushing when they don’t come true. But it’s the simple dreams that are often the most painful because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You’re always close enough to touch, but never quite close enough to hold and it’s enough to break your heart.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Three Weeks with My Brother

It’s been three months since I have been living on my own.  I wish I could say that it has gotten easier.  Steve and I are still best friends and still love each other…but that only makes it a little easier.

I still wake up everyday wondering where I am.  It’s like I have been dropped off in the middle of a life that is far from my own.  At times I feel exposed and afraid. Unsure what should be the next steps I will take…if I will ever take a full breath again.  I cried a lot this week  which was good because I don’t think I have really cried since I left.  I have kept myself busy, so busy and preoccupied with life that I allowed myself to forget to mourn the loss of my marriage.

Maybe I just didn’t want to face reality that it was finally over.

I wonder if humans are really capable of the vows we make to God.  So let’s talk about vows.  Here is a standard version

I, ____, take you, ____, to be my (husband/wife). I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

I don’t see a single word in there about being “in love” with that person or even staying together for the rest of your life…can someone get me a lawyer to clarify this???

Steve and I still love and honor each other…and without a doubt will take care of each other for the rest of our lives…even though we cannot love each other as husband and wife any longer.  I feel sad at that fact.  Sunday I thought deeply about the loss of our marriage…and how really stupid all the leading factors were.  How childish and silly we both were to make such a commitment and just toss it away.  Thoughts still run through my mind wondering if I tried hard enough.  If I really put everything I had into it.  You always have those doubts when a relationship ends if you truly did everything you could.  Your brain and heart will drive you crazy replaying the past wondering what would happen if you did things a little differently.

At almost 29 years old I know that fully recovering from this is going to take awhile.  I pray to God that he will help me learn to trust again.  The insecurities that have come along with this relationship ending are the hardest to deal with.  Sometimes I even confuse myself on where I am really at.

When I was younger I dreamed of life as most women do of having that man that loves you forever.  I dreamed of a the house and the white picket fence.  Many nights I have seen my children’s faces happily playing in my dreams.  I have worked hard, so hard to try to get there…and now I feel like the road that I have been traveling just abruptly sent me back to the beginning.  I feel like a video game character who just died and was sent back to level one.  So what do I do now?  I have no answers to any of my pondering questions that I have asked myself since the divorce.  I have come to some acceptance that maybe the dreams that I dreamed are not what God has planned for me.  Even though I will never consider my life complete without a family of my own.

Will I trust again?  Will I love again?  Will someone love me enough to really stay forever this time?  Ugh divorce and the ugly faces it shows.  Fear.  Insecurities.  I know realistically I have to give myself time to feel these feelings and accept them as what they are…ridiculous.  I will love again, I will trust again…I am sure someone will love me someday again the way a man should love a woman forever.

Steve and I went out to the Marine Corps Ball tonight and the comfort of old was there. It was familiar and it was safe.  I felt as if for a moment I was breathing again.  So easy to sit in the comfort of your box that you have created for yourself.  The cold hard truth remained beyond those boxed walls that I created for myself.  We are just not compatible.  I have found me again in leaving our reletionship.  I have discovered what I like and who I am.   I don’t feel pressure or doubt.

I live in the moment, I laugh ridiculously as much as I want, I leave my shirts inside out, I wear mismatched clothing and I don’t roll the toothpaste tube.  I might leave the dishes in the sink overnight if I am too tired to wash them, I have reconnected with my love for sparkle and go out more often.  I plan trips and go on adventures.  I try new things and relive old in a new light.  I don’t sit in the mirror and question why my body is not the way someone else wants it to be.  I said Fuck diets…I feel no fear in running or my potential.  I DONT SETTLE FOR LESS. I am Leanne again….and it feels freakin great.

Someday, somewhere I will be loved again.  Forever loved.  The person that will love me will be my best friend and I will love that person with everything that I am…and all this will be just practice for forever.  When you see the light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes going through the tunnel is ten times harder.

“I finally understood what true love meant…love meant that you care for another person’s happiness more than your own, no matter how painful the choices you face might be.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Dear John

 

Lasagna Love

Chef’s are the best lovers in my book.

A Chef aims to please.  In our cooking, we want our taster to be satisfied with our creation.  We work hours in the kitchen preparing our meals with to show you who we really are.  In each bite you take you will be taking a small bite of us.  We wait patiently for the moment you say, “Yum! That tastes good.”  We will even sit and stare at you patiently in dead silence as you concentrate on woofing down every last bite.  Silence equals tasty, right?

When I cook it gives me the opportunity to share my love in one of the best ways I know how. Silent, but with a huge unforgettable impact.

There were still moments tonight where my married life still echoed.  When I arrived home, I’ve always had help with the groceries.  But now that I am single, every stinkin bag had to be hand carried in and put away myself.  Which I guess was more of a blessing than a curse because I am getting more exercise.

Tonight when adding mozzarella to the lasagna I dropped a small piece onto the floor.

I am so use to not picking food up off the floor because I had two 60 lb  vacumes with wagging tails to do the dirty work when a renegade piece of cheese ever went astray.  Tonight there was a split second where I didn’t even hesiate to pick up the cheese from the ground..and then I realized my two 60 lb vacumes are not here.  I wasn’t sure if it was me or the onions, but it’s moments like those that really sucks.

I wonder when it gets better.  I wonder when there comes a point where we have it figured out, even just a little.  Obviously, I know that no one ever has it all figured out.  But is there ever a moment when it ever comes into clearer focus?  I mean, really how fair is it that you spend your teens well into your late twenties guessing the difference between right and wrong.  How about the large leaps of faith taken?  The slips, the falls, the scrapes?

As I cut my green bell pepper and mince my garlic I wonder if there is that special someone for me out there.  The honest, trustworthy intellectual type who likes to laugh and cook.  I wonder if I will ever get married again. If time will allow me to trust and to love the way I need to after so much has happened.  I know it’s too soon to think about all this.  But as I toss the garlic into the pan I can only hope and wonder if I will ever be a mother.

As the ricotta hits the bowl I feel the need to let the word out.  I don’t feel the need to justify…but the need to let the readers know what really happened.  As I stir, I know there are those out there who kinda know me and kinda think they know who I really am.  Whether it be from a 10 years ago in high school or just working with me here in Hawaii.  There are the 10 per centers.  These are the people who really know what is going on…now a dash of red pepper flakes and a 1/2 teaspoon of pepper.  I am hopeless romantic who has been far from traditional her entire life.  Maybe  I have read too many romance novels; I was born and raised on Disney fairy tails.  I just believe in “that kind of stuff”.  My ex husband and I love each other in the kind of way two old friends who have known each other for years do.  No one cheated or went crazy.  There’s no exciting story to tell.  The love dissipated as it often does between married couples.  There just becomes a point when you know it’s over and comfort and fear keeps you from letting go.  Investment, time, money, energy.  There just became a point where the love was lost somewhere amongst the moments that we had.  Talking today, as I was picking fresh basil from my basil bush, neither of us could still put our fingers on the moment that we lost what our marriage needed.  Neither of us was able to figure how to recover.  There comes a point when you become tired…like looking for that missing picture or your favorite shirt that you haven’t seen in sometime.    You keep looking and looking, trying and trying…but somehow you just eventually give up and lay the item claim to Davey Jones’ locker.   There was a shift that had caused an irreparable crack.  The more you try to seal the crack, the more tired you become…and I just became too tired to move on.

Garlic.  So I will tell you this.   Love lost is not love forgotten.  Nor will I ever say that it’s a mistake.  I will love him forever and possibly more.  I just didn’t want us to wake up one day in our late fifties and wonder what the hell happened.  So we cut the cord while we still have youth left in us, while we still  have time to recover.  Even though starting over for the second time for me…it’s never gets easier.

Tomato sauce.  As I cook this lasagna I think of all the beauty that I have gained from this whole experience as bitter as it might taste some days.  The people that have come into my life…the friendship, the love, the self esteem I have earned.  I learned that I am loved.  I am loved dearly.  I learned that I am brave and strong even moments that I have thought that I haven’t been.  I am learning not to define myself on what society has claimed to be “normal”  (wasn’t Liz Taylor married like 10 times?).

Tonight I cook for those who love me.  Those who believed in me when no one else would.  The “you can do its” and the “get yourself refocused”.   Those who never let me miss a step and believed in me even when I thought there was no one left that did.  Tonight I put my love into my lasagna, because as much as I haven’t told you even though I should more often… I freakin love you.  Tomorrow I will wake up and bring lasagna to those who I can tell locally.  Thank you.

I believe in a God that believes that I did what it took.  A God that isn’t going to judge me and send me to hell for two failed marriages.  The God that I know know’s in both those marriages I TRIED.  I gave all that I had to give and that WAS SUFFICENT.  I grew as a human.  My soul expanded, my capacity for love increased exponentially.  I became better.  I will continue to walk, I will continue to love and I will continue to believe that this life selected for me is extraordinary.  Those who choose to judge me so be it.  They are just missing out on some great lasagna.

Finding the reset button

 

No one ever said that life was easy.

It’s time to start over.  One run at a time.  One bite at a time. One moment.  One thought.  One action.

I haven’t cooked in awhile and I love to cook.  One of the things that I hate the most about being single is not having someone to cook for everynight.  Or someone to cook for me.

Starting over after being in a five year marriage has been nothing but difficult to say the least.  Finding your way in your late twenties when you thought things wer

e settled and figured out can be difficult at times.  I have my good days and I have my bad days.  I am taking this oppertunity as a second chance at life.  A chance for me to start over and live.  None of us will spend the rest of our days happy every-single-day.  But it’s my choice to live my life to the fullest.  My choice to thrive.  My choice to be everything that I ever wanted to be.

I have dreams and I promise myself to live everyday like it’s my last. For the rest of the long 50 plus years I have left.  Every morning no matter what life throws at me I will continue to put my feet on the ground every morning and get out of bed.  The point

My goal of this blog is to not only heal but inspire those around me to heal.  I want us to grow together through my meals and ideas.  I want you to start over with me.

 

 

I know some people are going to bitch about this blog and say that some of the recipies I am posting and the things that I am eating are going to lead us all to an early grave.

So be it.

I am going to let you in a small disclaimer that I exercise at least five days a week and God never intended me to be a size two.  If this hot dog doesn’t kill me…well I am sure that UV light, pollution and radio waves might.  On top of that don’t eat this stuff everyday.

This weekend was filled with wonderful experiences.  I actually ate an Andouille hot dog from Hank’s Haute Dogs in Honolulu this weekend.  I can say this hot dog place is the maserati of hot dogs.

http://www.hankshautedogs.com/

They have all different types of hot dogs include Duck Confit and one also referred to as the “fat boy”  which was wrapped in bacon and deep fried.  Ugh, heart attack!  It’s definately somewhere to check out.

I found my way to the international market place in Waikiki where I have come to figure out that this place serves nothing healthy.  Period.  I ended up eating the “loco moco”(http://www.shackwaikiki.com/). Which is within it’s self a heart attack.  Again, no one said I was trying to eat healthy this weekend.  If I had a name for this weekend it would be called “Finding the reset button”.

  Loco Moco

I have never seen this dish anywhere else in the US.  However, I will tell you what.  It’s comfort food at it’s finest….and possibly if I were to ever end up in prison THIS would me my last meal.

So if you are ever down and Waikiki and you love sports you should stop by “The Shack” locate in the International Market place. (http://www.internationalmarketplacewaikiki.com/).

So I am finishing off this blog with a seasonal collection of Blue Moon’s  Harvest Moon Pumpkin Ale.  Not the best beer I have ever had.  However, it did have some festive fall notes to bring in a little fall action to my tropical surrounding.

http://www.bluemoonbrewingcompany.com/

Well, tomorrow I will be cooking something delish.  Please let me know if there is anything you want me to cook.  If you are local I will drop some by when I am finished preparing it.

Aloha!

P. S.- I am hitting the streets of Lanikai for a run in the early AM if you care to join me.

 

 

Chocolate cake at midnight

While laying in bed last night around midnight, I had a brilliant epiphany come to mind.  I needed to live more in the moment, more for the now.  More for me.

At that very moment a thought came to mind, “I want some chocolate cake.”

I quickly dismissed the thought, because really, who gets out of bed and drives to the store at midnight for chocolate cake?  I thought deeply about the decsion and decided.  Fuck it.  I want some chocolate cake.  I threw on some clothes and headed to the local grocery store panning the isles for my long lost friend.  On the very last isle there he was…a nice fat slice of chocolate cake.

With my purchase I also added a pint of Skim milk and a smile.  Because you see…it’s not just about my midnight cravings.  It’s about being free.  It’s about the freedom to live my life and do what makes me feel good.  It’s about living a life FOR ME and what makes me happy.

As I took the first bite into my chocolate cake a sense of freedom emerged.  I felt like I was telling my skinny jeans to fuck off as I swallowed the first bite.  As the second bite was swallowed my heart skipped knowing that there was something changing in me.  A much needed freedom was being discovered.  In those moments I started to let the control and expectations go of who I should be.  I started to embrace that I needed to do what made me happy.  I needed to let go of the Disney happily ever afters and the stereotypical sequences of college-marriage-house-children scenarios that so many American woman have built for themselves and have tried desperately to achieve to be happy.  I’ve been living my life for something else.  I’ve been living the created American Dream.  The expecation. To be honest…I have failed miserably.

Maybe that life isn’t for me.  Maybe not what I was created for.

Through this Blog I have decided to live out of the extra ordinary through cooking and living life to the fullest.  I have promised myself and my readers that throughout this journey I will be true to myself and break free.  It’s time to find my American dream.