I lack useful advice

Dear Leigh,

Sorry I didn't respond sooner. Lost my mind for a little while at the end of the semester, but most of it's returned to me now.

I remember you telling me about your dream of owning your own cafe a few years ago when I visited you on the great road-trip of 07. I'd never dream of driving so far on my own now, though I'm glad I made the trip then. Somehow I've become more cautious in the past two years. I think it has something to do with J. It's as though, before I met him, I flailed around asking to be hurt then pitied myself when I was. So selfish. So stupid.

Anyway, what I admired about you then and still admire about you today is your independence. I thought I was being independent by driving hundreds of miles on my own and going out drinking every weekend with my friends and eschewing healthy relationships in favor of non-relationships and applying to a prestigious school I couldn't afford in Boston, but my parents still gave me money every month and I rarely did anything outside of what my friends suggested we do. Jeremiah still has a hard time getting me to say what I want, actually. You, however, had established your own life and had very specific aspirations...

I have a point somewhere. I think it's that you seem to have a real sense of yourself, whereas I've only recently acquired mine (and I'm still fine-tuning it...probably will be until I die). It would be a shame for somebody like you to continue feeling that they're not living life but giving in to it. Then again, it's very easy to say "if you like cooking, then cook!" but very hard to actually do something like that. It's daunting, once you're in a particular path, to even consider leaving it completely. The logistics are nightmarish... Still, I hope that you find a way to do what you love for a living. Maybe research culinary schools in the area and see what kind of classes and funding are available? Or maybe a move would do the trick.

I don't really know. Jeremiah's worried about the same kind of thing. He fears that he won't get into an MFA program and will be stuck in food service. I've pointed out that he's perfectly qualified for freelancing and that freelancing can lead to full time jobs, but it comes back to that rut and the difficulty of breaking out of it. I'm optimistic that both of you can find a bit of adventure, but I don't envy you the task.

Luckily, both you and Jeremiah have supportive significant others to encourage you.

I think I’ve Become Obsessed with Food

Not eating, but creating.

Dear Kate,

I find it hard to get anything done when ambition levels are at an all time low. I laugh at myself and my bursts of inspiring words offered to you when in reality you were not lacking in self esteem. Life truly seems to be going quite well in Virginia, and I am both happy and excited for you! However, I may need to go back and reread some of my own moral boosts for personal reasons.

How about a story to get this letter going:

In the early 70's, my mom traveled from Maine to New Orleans to California and back to Maine (yes, I gave NOLA its own state identification) carrying nothing more than a backpack and equipped with only her thumb. When she returned to Maine, her travelling days were not complete. Instead, she found a job working in an officer’s club on the local air force base. I believe she worked there with one purpose in mind: to meet herself a nice military officer with adventure on his plate. And it worked. A few years later and a young family in tow, the adventures continued to places like Germany, Saudi Arabia, Virginia, and all the great sights surrounding those locations.

So how did I, an offspring of two great travelers, get stuck. I have been in the same place (Northwest Florida) for the past 20 years. Yes, you read right, we moved to Panama City in 1989. The furthest adventure I made from this place was the family cruse a few years back.

There is point here somewhere: I am just not quite sure if I can make it sharp…

Growing up, I always felt like it was expected of me to marry that nice military man and continue my own travels. I felt like, as my young life progressed through high school, there was no real direction for my future. College was an afterthought. My education goals non-existent. I do not feel I had much support. For many reasons, I feel like I missed out on something great. I do have quite a few wonderful memories in this life thus far, but I do not feel I have been able to live up to the potential of what I have to offer. Put simply, I often feel like I’m succumbing to life rather than LIVING it.

I am really burned out in my job. I never pictured myself as a youth director. There are days I love it. More and more, there are days, like today, I loathe it. Last week was a wonderful week: I was sick. I got to stay home the entire week and not deal with the monotony of planning activities which the kids will resist. I feel the only way I can make them happy is by feeding them or numbing them with a movie. And I hate those feelings. I hate thinking that my kids are so unappreciative of what I have to offer. They come here, to this church, seeking what? I don’t know anymore. It can’t be the program I’m running. They prefer to distract and make a game of who can get the best reaction from rude innuendos, jumping all over the couches like a room full of monkeys (only real monkeys are much better behaved). Well, perhaps I am too harsh. The bottom line is, life is just no fun anymore.

Thus my obsession with food. Sometimes I think my calling may have come too late. I love food. I love reading menus, planning flavors, experimenting with meals. I am not that big on the eating part, but I love the preparing and serving part. I love to learn and experiment. There is a Vegan restaurant in town, and I LOVE the place. I want to live there! Well, not really. But I did find inspiration in this little beatnik café. I went to the bookstore the other day and found myself a new Vegan cookbook so I too could experiment with a different food style with which I can somewhat relate.

A last grumble, then I will complete this letter: Capt has a friend with a restaurant on Tybee Island. I have been begging Capt for a relocation! I love Pensacola, but this town has grown quite small. A few weeks ago we went to Gallery Night, basically a downtown street party. And if I did not run into a major handful of people from work! Most may not think it so bad, but I HATE running into people from work. I feel like a hypocrite when I am trying to live a life according to me…not one defined by expectations imposed by my employment!

I know what I want to do with my life. Food is my adventure. I want to travel the human palate with my own café. I want to create comfort foods for others to eat. I want to experiment with new flavors, creating a table of savory, sweet, tart, tangy, spicy, all satisfying to the taste buds. But how does one jump out of this rut, this binding of debt and house payments to make the necessary move away from the familiar to the possibly more satisfying unfamiliar?

Paix, ma cousine.

Leigh

PS. Ideas for a J gift are requested from my brother… if you please.