Way to start a blog and then disappear!

The Carby Night and a Blogging Epiphany

Saturday night. Husband and I waiting in line with other ticket-holders to see “The Master.” I’m holding a so-called “small” bag of popcorn (with real butter!) and hoping I won’t run into anyone from my gym. At the same time, I spot a guy dressed in black and surveying the scene. “Hey, the secret service is here tonight,” I say mockingly to Husband. We have witnessed some shenanigans at this theater in the past when it gets crowded. Once, during a film festival, one of the employees had a complete meltdown trying to control the crowd with no backup.

“See, that guy is talking to his hand! AND I SEE the mic!” I said. The man in black gives me a look. A couple more guys in dark sunglasses and black clothes appear as we walk towards the theater. As we are settling into our seats, Rahm Emanuel walks up the stairs right past us. He smiles at me, but my synapses haven’t connected yet, so I just look oblivious. Husband – synapses fully functioning – coolly nods at the Mayor. During the next few hours it’s hard to forget the “master” of the third largest city in the country is sitting behind us watching “The Master.” Of all the movie joints, in all the towns, in all the world, he walks into this one. Something about it feels significant.

Chowing on my popcorn and thinking about how I plan to write about it, the all-too-familiar stress of unfinished work starts nagging at me. The truth is, I’ve had a long, multi-subject post I keep noodling around with for about a month now. Part paleo recap and a whole lot of explication for my disappearance. Then it hits me: I keep writing blog posts in my head that never get on paper (screen?) because I feel I must first explain perfectly about the time I’ve missed. Well, I hereby announce, enough of that! Instead of trying to make up for all the lost time, explain where I’ve been and why I haven’t been blogging, couldn’t I just go forward from here? Would that be okay with you, dear reader (i.e. Mom)? It’ll all come out eventually. Pinky swear!

But Wendy, you were eating popcorn! And not just popcorn – movie popcorn! What gives?

The whole purpose of this blog is to document and share my journey while I try to eat a more paleo-type diet. Perhaps, evolutionarily speaking, we are made to eat this way. But I feel as if eating animals goes against my very fiber. My brain has to be taken completely out of the scenario while I’m eating meat. I have to think about not thinking about scenes from “Food Inc.” or things I have read about the food supply or even about the life and death of whatever I’m eating.

When I first started trying to increase my protein intake, my daughters were fascinated to see me eat meat. Arriving at the dinner table, my little carbovores would stare at my plate. Inevitably, my youngest would ask, “What kind of animal is that, Mommy? Is it a dead chicken?” A new rule was born from this nightly question: No talking about Mommy’s food while she’s eating it.

The popcorn?

Yes, I digress. The popcorn smelled good. And tasted good too! As Husband reminds me when I complain (daily, according to him) about having to eat meat: Get over it!

The mayor must’ve sneaked out the back exit when the movie was over because we didn’t see him again. And for some reason our lives weren’t changed by his nearness.