The comfort food cogitation

Does anyone else have comfort food? I know we all eat comfort food to make ourselves feel better (or try to, anyway) but does anyone else have a meal or a snack they turn to, that makes them feel better?

I have two which I turn to in a bid to make myself feel better, and both are equally disgusting or delicious, depending on who you are, and whether you are a gluten free/vegan/plant based diet/thin person. My go-to comfort foods are heavy in the carb department – as all good comfort foods are.

My first comfort food is Marmite pasta; and you’ll either love it or you’ll hate it. There’s something about this beige/brown bowlful of food which is incredibly comforting. I don’t know if it’s the simplicity of it, or whether it’s because I link Marmite with childhood, and allowing those Marmitey childhood feelings to resurface makes me feel better. But once I’ve eaten it, feel better I certainly do. Funnily enough, having it in the chipped bowl makes me feet better too. I feel like the chipped bowl gets me, it knows me.

 

If you’re interested, all you do is cook yourself a portion of pasta. Then, over a low heat in a small pan, warm a spoonful of butter and a spoonful of Marmite together and stir to make a sauce. Then pour the salty goodness over your pasta. Tuck in and you will be in heaven, unless you hate Marmite, then in which case, you will be in hell.

My second comfort food is a ravioli in tomato sauce, from a tin. This old chestnut gets carted out when we are in dire straits. When all hope is lost, or I am feeling very unwell, the tinned ravioli never fails to make an appearance. I’m sure a lot of you will think tinned ravioli is truly grim, but again, it has positive childhood connotations and memories for me. I had tinned ravioli for lunch today. I drove past Sainsbury’s on my way back from work and all of a sudden, I needed it.

 

But I’ve gone from using ravioli to make my tummy ache better or my sore throat better, to using it to make my head better, or my mind better. Is that a good thing? Is that a bad thing? I’m not quite sure, I’m not sure if it matters either. There’s something about eating ravioli from a tin, wearing your jim-jams, sitting in your bed, snuggled up in your blankets that gives me a feeling of safety, and safety is akin to comfort, right?

Now I’m thinking about it, I don’t know if these are comfort foods, or more foods that I use to tell people I’m either feeling unhappy, or I’m feeling ill. The second I get the ravioli out my dad goes “that’s when I know you aren’t feeling well”. So, maybe I use these things to signal to those who know me best, that I’m not alright, and I probably need a bit of help. Sometimes I guess I don’t even need help, but I just need someone to ask, “are you okay?”, or “what’s up”. Having someone recognise that you aren’t alright, and to make themselves available for you to not be alright and have a little cry, is what we want really, isn’t it?

These things don’t really make you feel better, but they make you think you feel better. Kind of like a placebo effect, but instead of taking sugar pills, you are eating pasta out of tins. They are creating a reaction inside your brain, and your brain is tricking you into making you feel better or happier for a moment. I’d imagine all of these comfort foods are attached to a nice memory or a nice time in our lives.  As long as they work for you, that’s the main point.

 

So, what is your comfort food? I’d love to know.

 

Bonnie

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I’m having a quarter-life crisis

A quarter-life crisis. Who even knew that was a thing?! Well, it turns out it is, and I am having one. I want to change my job, I want to stop doing stuff, I want to start doing different stuff. I’m not sure what is happening. I thought this was only supposed to happen when you were about 50 and you went out and bought a convertible car and got your nipples pierced. I’m not going to buy a convertible, because quite frankly I can’t afford one, and I’m not going to get my nipples pierced (although I did consider doing so when I was 16).

But this is weird right? Has anyone else experienced the quarter-life crisis? Is it just me? Or is this actually a really normal thing for a 23-year-old to experience? If it is, then I am wondering why I haven’t heard about it before. But here I am, sitting in front of Strictly Come Dancing with my cat, alone on a Saturday night, watching Aston Merrygold do a spooky Halloween themed paso doble, criticising his leg extensions, accompanied by a cup of tea, pretty much questioning my entire life. Maybe this is a mid-life thing? I shouldn’t be so concerned as to whether Anton Du Beke has had a face-lift, should I? No other people my age are worried about things like that, are they?

But anyway, back to my quarter-life crisis. I want to quit my job, mainly because I hate it, but also because I feel like it’s just not creative enough for me. But I also don’t want to quit, because I have no idea what other jobs to look at, let alone actually apply for. Is there anything else I can do? What skills do I have? Will anyone want to employ me? What can I actually do? I genuinely have no idea. Will I be able to make any friends at my fictitious new job? Or will I end up having lunch in my car because no one likes me? Because that is a definite possibility.

I’m in on a Saturday night, looking like a complete crazy cat lady. Sitting in my jim jams on the sofa, blanket tucked around me, with panda eyes so dark, that I’m not even sure I look human anymore, and I may have actually started morphing into a panda. I’m 23 and I am in on a Saturday night. This shouldn’t be happening. Why aren’t I one of those popular people who have a tonne of superficial friends they can call in times like these?

I’d like to learn a new skill. I really want to learn how to sew, like proper sewing with a sewing machine so I can make my own clothes and alter stuff. But when is there time to learn how to sew? I feel like I don’t even have enough time to go to sleep, let alone learn a new skill. There are so many things I want to do and learn and see, but when is there time to do all these things? I can’t do all this, have a social life, go to work, go to the gym, eat and sleep, can I? There is simply not enough time in the day.

Urgh. My mind went spinning out of control so I thought I would go for a nap. I laid there for a bit hoping I would fall asleep. Obviously, I didn’t. What actually happened was I laid there for an hour staring at the ceiling, singing my own version of Calvin Harris’s “Feels”, where I replaced the word “feels” with “ceilings”. I can promise you now, that “don’t be afraid to catch ceilings”, will be top of the charts in the not too distant future.

Anyway, so I haven’t really solved my quarter-life crisis. All I’ve done is watch Strictly, stare at the ceiling and change one word in a song to make it my own. So… yeah, that was my evening. Productive eh?

 

Bonnie

The Weirdo Proposition

Why are people afraid to enjoy things? Why are people so afraid to be passionate about things? I don’t get it. Okay, I kind of do get it. I understand that sometimes people don’t have the self-confidence to be positive and vocal about the things that they enjoy and are happy about. They worry people are going to think they are “sad”, or that they are “losers”, or that these people are going to look down on them because they are interested in more than just Love Island and wine (which are completely legitimate interests by the way).

Well people, I am going to tell you that worrying about liking something and being passionate about it because people might think it is stupid, sad or boring, is completely counter intuitive. It’s completely and utterly counter intuitive. If you are defensive when someone tries to talk to you about something you enjoy, YOU have already decided that you are the loser. Not them, not anyone else, no one but you. You have already made the decision for them – that they are going to find whatever you are talking about boring, or think you are a “weirdo” for liking it. They weren’t thinking you were a weirdo before, but now they are thinking you are a weirdo for shutting down a conversation about something that you like. Have some self-respect here, stop putting yourself down on this one.

If anyone actually says you are a loser for liking something, or tells you that you are weird for liking something, then are they really worth talking to about anything? I doubt it. If they can’t be bothered to have a conversation about the fact that you like trains, or photography, or makeup or whatever, then they aren’t even worth having a conversation with about anything. I think often people are jealous that someone has a passion. They don’t have anything in their lives they are excited about, and you do, and they don’t like that. So, they shut you down by calling you a “loser”, a “weirdo” or sad.

I’ve got to the point where being called a “loser” is almost a compliment to me. It means I am interested in something and you aren’t. It means I have a passion and you don’t. I enjoy my life and all the things in it, and you don’t. You’re jealous. If I had £1 for each time someone had called me one of these words, I would be a millionaire by now. I get called a loser/sad/weirdo on a daily basis. But you know what, that’s actually okay; I’m cool with it. I’m reading a Japanese crime novel which has been translated into English, why’s that so weird? My pen has a unicorn on the top of it, why’s that so odd? My hairband matches my shoes, and apparently that’s weird. These things aren’t weird, but so what if they are?! Yeah Bonnie’s weird – cool story bro… come up with something new already.

 

The definition of weirdo: a person whose dress or behaviour seems strange or eccentric.

Is liking to read strange or eccentric? Don’t think so. Is enjoying black and white films particularly out of the ordinary? Nope.

Let’s take a look at some synonyms for “weirdo”: individualist, nonconformist, free spirit.

In my book, these are all positive words. So, I’m weird and that makes me an individual and that means I am different to you. Well, good! Because I don’t want to be like you if you are horrible to people for being interested in things.

 

I don’t get why we shame people for liking things. Fortunately, I’m not worried enough about people liking what I like, and I don’t mind if people call me a loser. But not everyone is like that. Some people will take it to heart if you say their hobby is “sad”, and they will be afraid to ever mention it to someone again. If you are one of those people who shames people for being into stuff, then stop it. Stop it right now, because it’s the most ridiculous thing, and you saying that is way more telling than someone getting excited about something they are interested in. Like “OMG you are so cool, I love that you just made someone feel really bad about themselves”. Legit get over yourselves. These people are mean, and they don’t have real friends, they are literally just people who hang around with a bunch of people who are scared of them

And, if you are one of those people who stresses when someone says you are “sad”, a “loser” or a “weirdo”, you know what? Chuck it in the fuck it bucket and move on. Tell someone who cares; because lots of people care.

My standard response to someone telling me I am any of these things, is to go “yeah I know”. They never know what to say to that. They aren’t expecting that, they are expecting you to get defensive about it or to go quiet. So, do neither. I propose a new way of thinking, where the people who don’t like anything apart from making you feel bad, are the weirdos.

 

Anyway, rant over, for now at least. Cheesy grins people.

Bonnie

South Africa Day 9: Tangled in the Jungle

It rained here last night, not just a little bit but a properly torrential downpour. It rained all day, from about 6pm, and it was still raining when I woke up and carried on until mid-morning. It was tipping it down and it was so, so loud. I was still awake at 4 o’clock in the morning because it was keeping me up, it was that noisy. I spose I shouldn’t complain because they have a major drought issue here at the moment and they really need the rain (this was the first time it had rained in months really). But, the lack of sleep was a killer and I was shattered by about 10 am and I could barely concentrate on my breakfast.

 

I decided I needed a proper relaxing brain break day. We had been pretty full on, travelling around and sightseeing and whatnot, so I think a day of nothing was deserved. Plus, I was getting to the point where I didn’t have much brain space left and I needed to defrag a bit. I had a really chilled day; I had a bath, dozed for a bit and read my book, which is Jungle by Yossi Ghinsberg. Then I watched Tangled on Netflix (not afraid to admit I’ve watched that more times than I can count). I chose it because I didn’t want to concentrate on anything too much and I didn’t want to have to really listen in and follow a major plot. It was nice to sit and watching something where I knew what was coming, and that was uplifting and made me giggle a bit.

 

I felt kinda guilty not doing anything, but it was worth it to have a day of pure relaxation and sit there and do precisely nothing. As a result of me doing a whole load of nothing, I don’t even have a single photo to share with you. Nope, not even one. Nada. Zero. Zilch. It was good to no worry about social media for a day, and I didn’t bother checking any of my emails or messages or anything really. I enjoyed having a day purely for myself, where I wasn’t worrying about anything or anyone else at all. Pure bliss. I’ll be back to the usual holiday madness again tomorrow I’m sure. But I feel a lot better today after having a kind of “healing” day. Hopefully I’ll have a tonne of energy now and I won’t feel quite as lethargic as I have been feeling.

 

Bonnie

Feel how you feel

I had a bad day today. Something happened before lunchtime and I ended up spending my lunch hour at home sobbing into my pillow with my kitty cat and my jim jams on – sad huh? Not really, just normal I think. It wasn’t really that bad, but it had just come out of the blue and got to me ya know? Taken me by surprise and the unexpectedness of it had brought on the tears, no one wants to the girl that cries at work either, so slid on out to the car and snuck off home for a bit.

I think I just needed a few minutes to be upset about it and then some time to talk about it. It was at this point without everyone else’s opinions blurring my vision that I realised it wasn’t exactly as I thought it was. The awful thing that had happened wasn’t as awful as I thought it was and it was actually probably quite a nice thing in disguise. But someone had told me it was awful and I automatically assumed that they were right about it.

It goes to show how easily innfluenced I can be, and we as a general human race. Someone says something and we just assume that what they are saying is right without any further thought. So here’s a thought, that person that tells you things are bad or good and offers opinions and advice all the time – they might be wrong. Because at the end of the day you know you better than anyone else does. You know how you feel about things and you know the situations you are in and they don’t, not really.

So next time someone tells you something is wrong or right, bad or good, think for a moment and consider whether that is the way YOU feel about it. Because what is important is how you feel about things, not how others feel about things. Please don’t pretend to feel one way about something purely because it’s the way you are ‘meant’ to feel, feel what you feel. Because feelings aren’t right or wrong, they are just that, feelings. So do me a favour – make sure you are feeling how you are feeling, not how anyone else is feeling.

Bonnie