Posted by: zhak39 | April 22, 2008

A New Name, A New Domain

But I ‘m still the same!

It has been a year since I posted on A Fine Dish and more than that since I have been writing regularly.  My original aim was to indulge in my dual passions of writing and cooking.  From reading my own archives I realized that my focus was too narrow.  I strayed quite a bit from counter culture, that is conversation about life, love and the pursuit of happiness over the kitchen counter.  As well, growing responsibilities at my job and the usual changes of routine with three teenagers in the house prevented me from taking the time to reflect and find insights that are the spice of a mundane life.

A while ago someone said to me “you aren’t telling stories anymore.  Have you run out?”  The significance of this statement didn’t sink in it at first.  I told her “we make new stories everyday.   I’m saving them.”  That was a fib.  It’s true that we have a never-ending supply of experiences.  Every day is different, every day is full.  I have fallen into a couple of destructive tendencies.  I haven’t allowed myself time to enjoy these experiences, to find the humor, to look at the deeper meaning.  Also, I assumed that no one wanted to hear our stories.  We are, after all, pretty basic American mutts.  Who cares?  Who else will laugh at the foibles, sympathize with the struggles, what’s the value of every day stuff?

Something clicked last Friday night.  It was prom night and I was on taxi duty. I had already put in 97 miles picking Helen up from school, taking her home to dress, crossing the county to pick up her date then returned to town to drop them at the banquet hall.  It seemed sensible to stay in town until the dance was over and I had to do the driving in reverse.  My dear friend Laurie suggested we kill some time at a sushi restaurant a couple blocks from her house.

The place was packed but we finally snagged two seats at the bar.  Being me, I pretty much ignored the fact that we were squashed all together.  We just enjoyed the beautiful dishes laid at the serving station right in front of us and chattered away.  I was just telling Laurie about a conversation I had with a friend of mine when we heard an outburst of laughter, a genuine snort.  We both looked and there was the bartender.

“That was just random laughter.  It had nothing to do with your conversation.  That I’m not listening to anyway,” he said.

(The scary thing is that he knew as well as I that the only bracing thing I had to drink was the dregs of my green tea).

My stories provoke laughter from a jaded twenty-something year old bartender who has probable heard it all and then some?  Yeah, it’s time to write again.


  1. Woo-hoo! She’s back, and she’s FABULOUS!

  2. My inspiration! Thanks for getting me back on track. It’s been fun.

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