lonely havens

Sep 4, 2011
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After a month and a half of shelling out to eat out (or drinking coffee instead of eating), I finally decided to cook something for myself in my new and unfamiliar kitchen.

It was a flawed plan from the beginning: frittata-for-one. I did not have enough “bulk” ingredents to fill up the pan, so just before pouring in the eggs I pressed two rolls (from Syrena Bakery) into the edge of the pan simply to take up space. A few basil leaves on top, and then under the broiler…more strata than frittata, I guess, but it turned out okay. 

I still hate cooking for one.

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  1. lonelyhavens posted this

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So I’ll be straight: It has not been a very good run. Been in this town ten years, and very little to show for it. I have a decent job, but while keeping it I have pushed away friends, let my ambitions rot, and lost my way to the point where plowing through the hours of the day on idle gives me a vague sense of achievement. “Once something quits changing, it’s dead” — that may not be a coroner’s definition, but I feel almost ready for the autopsy.

One of the few friends I have left is telling me I need to change. (Easy for her to say; she just moved 3,000 miles away from me.) She knows the idea terrifies me, though, so she comes up with a game plan that she thinks I can handle.

“Don’t go back to the places you always go to alone,” she says.

“What? But those are the lonely havens...”

“You cannot go back to them,” she says. “Promise me — do not go back to any of them.”

I don’t give her an answer. Maybe, I figure, I could give it a try. One by one, I would say goodbye to my lonely havens and see if it makes any difference. Start with one, abandon it, move on to the next. Keep going until they are all behind me. Until they are gone.


張.
(a/k/a just a fucking “e” away from change)
08.20.10

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