Wherein...I make no sense...and may need a hug...which will make me uncomfortable...life is hard.

I started a draft. That I wanted to post. And Blogger didn't save it. So...

Here is a summary:

I am cooking a dinner party on Saturday that I am ridiculously nervous about. Like, last night I may or may not have taken a prescription anxiety pill that was not prescribed to me. But, dude. I would have dug a hole to china via my bed if I hadn't.

I want to make this a little more of a food blog. Not over the top. Just some more recipes, photos, etc. How do you all feel about that? I have also toiled with the thought of a separate blog for food...but I want all of you to be a part of everything. Is that weird? Have I become too attached? Are you OK with me having a shrine of each of you in a closet in my guest room that I spend all of my time petting?

I can't stop laughing at how creepy that last comment was.

I talk to myself. A LOT. And the boy fell asleep next to me on the couch during my "me" time and it has been a struggle to not have an open and honest dialogue with myself. 

The key is to embrace the crazy and love it...if you think too hard, you fall into the hole.

I am going to have two recipes on the restaurant week menu this time. Maybe more. 

Mussels in a lemongrass broth.

Braised Pork Belly. (which I am cooking for this dinner party and I need to tweak if necessary.)

Speaking of reasons for anxiety meds...

It's funny because I left my old life and went to culinary school because of stress. And here I am. I guess it is just different when you love the outcome of the stress. Or I am a stress junky or some shit. 

Regardless...I am so fucking nervous. You guys. So. Fucking. Nervous. Dinner Party.

I always picture myself as a failure. Which is the opposite of most people in my industry. I get that. But insecurity breeds humility. And I guess somebody has to be that person. Ugh. Nobody likes that person.