A Letter to Your 40 Year Old Self From Katie
By · CommentsI will admit it that this week I am a failed blogger. Forgive me. I know that I am all sorts of off track. But I have a pretty new design thanks to this amazing lady.
I have a special treat for you today.
Most of my friends mock my obsession with blogging. And when I say mock I mean it in the most loving of ways. Lets just say that “you better not blog about this” is mentioned at every party followed by ten girls breaking into a fit of the giggles.
All of my friend except one. We met in a highschool Algebra class and we are about as opposite as two girls can be. Somehow she has adapted to the fact that I will never sport a clean car (or house) and I have accepted the fact that a trip to TJ Max with her is going to take at least four hours. As she carefully inspects every item she finds for defects. It is a give and take relationship to say the least.
I was so excited when she offered to write a letter to her forty year old self. This girl is creative to the max, but I had no idea the funny she had stored up in that little mind of hers.
Be sure and check out her newly started blog. Happy Friday!
Dear Katie,
Wow. You’re old. I can’t even imagine being in my 40s. The thought of what you look like right now is slightly stressing me out. Perhaps I should have started a nightly facial regimen when I was in college, although I suppose many of those nights I would have been too inebriated to worry about it. I guess all that time I wasted in the tanning beds didn’t help much either. What can I say, I was never able to accept the fact that I am naturally pale. Have I accepted it at 40?
Enough with all that appearance nonsense, how IS my life? Did it end up like I always wanted, with a rich husband who buys me fancy thing and doesn’t make me hold a job? I hope you picked a good one this time. You have a track record for choosing guys who don’t treat you right, or take you for granted. Please don’t make me venture to the future to kick your ass for marrying a loser. You know I could do it, too. You’re old now, remember. So, do I have any kids? How about a Gunner? You know I’ve always said I was naming my first born boy that. With this dominant red hair, I’m sure at least one of them got it. Don’t forget to tell them that someday they will appreciate it. It took you a long time to, but you finally came around and realized that it’s pretty. Speaking of pretty…have you realized that you are yet? By 40 I’m hoping that all my insecurities have passed, and you worry more about the important things in life.
So tell me, after college, did I ever get a job? It’s been on my mind constantly, and I can’t help but fear I won’t be able to find something. Or I won’t be good enough…or that I will fail. If you get this letter, I guess that means I didn’t, though. Something must have came out of my life…and my college experience. I hope right now you are sitting in front of your favorite over-stuffed chair thats nestled under a vaulted ceiling. I hope you kicked off your designer shoes and are pouring over the newest Mac computer, reading this letter has been tossed into the cyber-future. Oh I wish I could see that…mmmm. Here I sit now, in a crappy college apartment, barefoot, with the only man in my life snoring at my feet. Stouffer, of course. All the times you Googled (wait…do you still use Google?) “bulldog puppies” finally paid off when you bought him. Even though people thought you were crazy for paying THAT MUCH for a dog, you knew it wasn’t a waste. He was always there when you needed a friend, or felt alone, and nothing can compare to his loyalty. I know he is gone now, but I just hope he lived a long, happy life. I’m tearing up just thinking about the day he leaves us…are you?
I hope mom and dad are doing alright, even if they aren’t together anymore. I wonder if mom ever adjusted to the move out west, or if the tension between them finally led to their divorce. I hope they are healthy…I hope they are still living to see their grandchildren. Please make sure to take your children to see them as often as possible. Make sure the bonds between grandparent and child are strong. I will always regret not spending enough time with grandparents. Now..what about that brother of mine? I hope we stayed close over the years. I know that going to college together made us closer than we ever were, and it’s unsettling to think distance or a new life would have messed with that. Make sure to call him all the time. He worries so much, and he needs to feel like people in his life care about him. And please Katie…make an effort to get along with his wife. I know you don’t think she’s good enough for him, and maybe she’s not, but he loves her, and you need to support that. Well you old lady, I think that’s about it. I have a million other things to ask you, but I guess life is a waiting game. I’m sure I could think of other advice to give you…but let’s face it- you HATE being told what to do.See you in 20-some years!
-The “fresher” you.
Fast Food, Fresh Fruit, and Nostalgia.
By · CommentsI think about food a lot. Not just because I love it, but because it interests me. I watch the way that people eat. The foods that they choose to eat. And why they choose to eat the things that they eat the way in which they eat them.
That was a mouthful.
Food has a certain nostalgia that comes along with it. Movies depict this best, you hear people talk about their grandmothers chicken soup. They drift back to childhood thinking of their mothers pot roast. A simple dish can in a sense “bring you back” to that moment.
My generation is a little different. Our food memories are a little different. I remember my dad pulling up to McDonalds and buying me a happy meal “only if I was happy.” I remember my mom taking me to Dairy Queen where we would share M&M blizzards and sometimes chocolate dip cones. I remember hanging out at pizza hut after football games with my friends. All of my food memories. All of that nostalgia. All of it is fast food, frozen food, or processed food.
Yummy.
This never even occurred to me until I started blogging. Until I got a chance to watch the way people lived. The way that people lived so. very. differently.
I visited Jessica Gottlieb once and we were sitting at her counter chatting away as her children ran inside from soccer practice. As you can imagine they were STARVING! I watched in dis-belief as Jessica sliced up oranges and cucumbers. She pulled out a pineapple and searched the cupboards for some more natural treats. I sat there thinking there is NO way that these children are going to eat this stuff and be satisfied. Soon enough they were hovered over the counter. Smiling faces and sticky fingered. They were asking for some more orange slices and a few more pieces of cucumber. I couldn’t believe it.
We assume that children don’t like fruit and vegetables. We assume they crave fast food and the only way to make them happy is through happy meals. I bet that assumption makes fast food companies very happy. And very profitable.
I see Sara Sophia sharing pictures of picnics on their front lawn. I have spotted her sporting a bowl of homemade sweet potatoes chips. I have watched her turn a normal family dinner into a party filled with hats, tea cups, and organic foods.
These children that are placed in to our care are going to have memories. Some may have memories of delicious fruit after a soccer game. Some will have memories of grocery shopping with their mother and learning how to choose the perfect eggs. Some are going to remember the joy of cooking and picnics. How much fun came with meals. How choosing your food really matters. And some? Are going to remember the drive thru.
What are your children going to remember? What is my child going to remember?
Trust me, I get it. I am not saying we never go to McDonalds. I am not saying we never grace the booth of a Pizza Hut. As soon as we see those golden arches on the side of the road my son is yelling out pleas for Chicken Nuggets. It is hard to say no. It is hard to choose the good stuff. It is hard because many of us never learned how to do it.
But I am trying. I am trying to find a balance. I want him to remember the good stuff. I want him to think back to baking cookies together. I want him to remember fresh veggies and fruit. I want him to know that choosing what you eat matters. I don’t want his memories to be owned by the fast food industry.
