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

Justin Bieber, is it too late now to say sorry?

Never have I seen one man, loved by so many, give so little in return.

I was excited to go and see Justin Bieber at BST in Hyde Park – I was really excited actually. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and Despacito was playing on the radio. So we turned up at Hyde Park in the afternoon to collect the tickets from the box office. We collect the tickets and it turns out these tickets grant us access to the guest bar and get us closer to the stage: winner!! So, majorly excited we made our way to the guest bar and had ourselves a couple of cocktails (because it would be rude not to right).


We’d got there just in time to see Martin Garrix, so we popped on over to the stage to see him in action. I have to say, I’m not sure Martin Garrix was quite the right vibe for the Bieber crowd. Justin has a very young following, so there are a lot of kids there with their parents. So, the rib cage shattering bass lines probably left a little to be desired in these circles on a Sunday afternoon. But I enjoyed it, so WHO CARES.

The Bieb was billed to be on stage for 8.15pm, so we settled in for a bit of a wait, as he is notoriously late to appear. So when he popped up on stage at 8pm (which is EARLY), we were all rather surprised. It seemed to go downhill for him from the off. He obviously had a cold and looked a little worse for wear. He didn’t engage with the crowd at all, and he was saying things that people were not wanting to hear.

A lot of the songs he didn’t sing a long to, and a lot of those he didn’t bother miming to. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world, instead of here. He blew his nose on an item of clothing he took from one of his fans and didn’t even give it back. He kept repeating how ‘happy’ he was to be here, in the flattest voice and a sour look on his face. How little insight could one guy have?

At one point, nearing the end of the show he went and sat down on the stage, and had what I could only describe as a meltdown. I honestly thought he as going to lose it and burst into tears. And then it ended. That was it. No encore, no final song. Finito – and no Despacito.

I could have been angry with him about his attitude and I could have raged about it all the way home. But I actually just felt really sorry for the kid. He is clearly a terribly unhappy young man. We are the same age, and I cant imagine having lived such a portion of my life in the limelight as he has. It must be incredibly difficult to be him. I know you will say he is blessed to have a gift and have all the money in the world. But he probably thinks you are blessed to live a normal life.

So I’d like to say: I’m sorry Justin. I’m sorry for the pressure we put on you as fans. We forget how young you are. We don’t think about how hard we are on you. We don’t realise how difficult it must be to live your life in the limelight the way that you do. We have forgotten that we never really gave you a chance to grow up; we expected you to go from a child to a man with no in between. If you don’t want to do it anymore, just stop.

If you do happen to read this, which I know you wont, but if you do… Don’t feel guilty about having a break if you need it. We will be okay without you, and we will be here when you come back.

Bonnie