Sign up here for FREE Updates, right to your inbox!

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The pendulum swings...

People change.  They do.  They DO!  If it seems like I am defending my position on this one it is because I am fully expecting someone to come on here and be all, 'People don't change!', or, 'Once a (blank) always a (blank)'.  Well, I disagree.

As an aside, I was just about to give you the old 'The cells in the human body replace themselves every seven years' line.  Then, I thought maybe I should actually look this 'fact' up before putting my hand on my hip and waving my finger in the air.  Ha!  It turns out that this is a hotly debated topic on the internets (try it, you'll see) and about an hour later I emerged from that wormhole, my brain a hot, hot mess and needing some leftover chocolate cake to help me re-focus.

Ahhhh, chocolate cake.  The whole reason for this post.

I will leave the '7 years' theory alone for now and gently return to my suggestion (and now humble opinion) that people change (a little bit anyway, can we agree on that at least?)

Case in point (finally!):

About 10 years ago, when I moved into my first 'big girl' apartment (condo actually), it was my very favorite thing in the world to have people over for dinner.  Like a lot of people (sometimes up to 20!), in a 900 sq. foot apartment... I would spend the week before planning (many of the dinners had themes), preparing, shopping, and fighting with Trent.  Then I would spend the ENTIRE day cleaning the condo and slaving away in my tiny, tiny kitchen (while Trent hid from me and/or pretended to be busy with something else).  I must admit that on many occasions, I outdid myself.  So much so in fact, that I think that I wrecked it.  I now live in a humongous house (not to brag or anything, but it really is humongous - much, much too big for three people) with the biggest kitchen that you have ever seen.  The counter space!  The cupboard space!  It is a wanna-be-chef's dream!  And, for the most part, I could absolutely care less about entertaining here. 

It's not that I don't like my friends anymore (I do!  I love you guys, I promise!).  It's just that I think I burnt myself out on the whole dinner party thing.  See?  I changed!  Something that I used to be passionate about now makes me want to crawl into my bed and hide under the covers.  It is just so much WORK and EFFORT!  I would so much rather do something outside with my friends, or go out for a meal... or better yet come over to your house for dinner!  (What? I am being honest here)

Anyway, I am way off topic (and I apparently needed to get that off my chest), but we did have friends over for dinner on Saturday.  And yes, I cooked a meal.  It was... average.  Nothing fancy to be sure.  But it was edible, and even followed up by another thing about dinner parties that I hate - dessert.  I don't eat the stuff (well, rarely anyway), but it seems that there is an expectation that people serve/eat that stuff at dinner parties.  Soooo, I mentioned to Trent that I was going to bake a cake.  Here's how that one played out:

M: 'What should I make for dessert?'
T: 'Nothing, we don't eat dessert.  Don't we have some week old cookies or something?'
M: 'Um, I am not serving those... what about if I make a cake.  I would totally eat a chocalate cake with whipped cream and canned cherries.' (Don't ask me what that was all about, I must've been on my period)
T: 'You are the worst baker in the world.  I would strongly suggest that you DO NOT bake a cake.  Just buy a cake mix.'
M: 'Cake mixes are gross, and full of chemicals.'
T: 'Trust me, a cake mix would be way better than anything you would bake.'
M: Silence as I perused my various cookbooks... and then, 'You are totally right.  I hate that about you.'

So there you have it folks.  From a year of 'Marebare Necessities' making everything from scratch right down to my own SHAMPOO all the way to Duncan Hines.

Um, who says people don't change?

Marebare

No comments:

Post a Comment