Singledom and Kale Salad

The other day a friend asked me, “How come you’re single?” I think their heart was in the right place, but it definitely was a rage-inducing moment. The way it was asked was drenched in pity & wonder at how I could be 26 almost 27 and be as single as can be. I laughed it off, shrugged my shoulders and used my age-old adage, “I hate everyone?”, which of course isn’t true. I love people. I really do. But I also have so many deal breakers I find myself tripping over them on the daily.

It’s not for lack of trying or wanting. It’s just for lack of interest. I have had two great loves in my short life, and they’ve set the bar pretty high. While the heaviest of issues gnawed at us until we split at the seams, I loved them with every cranny of my being. You know what I mean, the kind of love that sinks down into your soul and settles there. And without meaning to, I size up every potential partner to what I had… Yes, it’s horrible, but it also means I won’t ever settle. I know what it feels like to be loved so completely that even my bones felt embraced. I know what it feels like to trust and admire and adore. There’s no point in pretending with someone unless I feel the sparks. I know what true, gut wrenching, heart swelling love feels like, and I’m going to wait this one out until it comes around again.

Of course loneliness scratches at me again and again. I pride myself in being fiercely independent, and while my job, friends, dog and yoga keep me busy 80% of the time, that 20% can be achingly lonely. I remind myself that my life is filled with so many beautiful things, but I still have to brush off those self-deprecating thoughts that come up when I reflect on why I am alone.

I suppose my honest answer to my friend should have been, “I’m single because there hasn’t been a person to sweep me off my feet in a long time. I’d rather be alone and occasionally lonely than settle for someone who makes my heart simply pitter. Give me pitter-patter or it’s a no go.”

And that’s what I need. The pitter with the patter. The whole hog or nothing at all. Who knows if or when that will happen, but I’m going to hold out until I feel that again. I remember what it’s like to be filled up to the brim, and I won’t settle for anything less.

Wild Rice & Kale Salad

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebrating with good friends. We ate, drank and loved for 7.5 hours. Just how Thanksgiving should be. As a vegan(ish), Thanksgiving has always been hard. Yes, I indulged in some cheese this Thanksgiving, but I also gorged on so many vegetable side dishes I felt ill for two days (over eating for the WIN…?) Either way, this dish is great for Thanksgiving, potlucks or just as a side for your dinner. I had so much left over it was my lunch for a week, and I wasn’t complaining.

ingredients

  • 1 cup wild rice, uncooked
  • 1 bunch kale, de-stemmed and roughly chopped/torn
  • 2 red bell peppers, chopped
  • 1 bunch green onions, chopped
  • 1/4 cup walnuts, chopped
  • 1/4 cup dried cranberries
  • 1/2 cup lemon juice
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • salt and pepper to taste

Start with your rice. Bring 2 cups water and your rice to a boil. Bring heat to low and simmer for 50-55 minutes. While the rice is cooking, wash and chop all your veggies and walnuts and prepare your dressing. Combine the lemon juice with the olive oil and add salt and pepper to taste. After rice cooks, cool before adding in the vegetables, walnuts and dried fruit. Then add in the dressing and enjoy! This is one of those salads that gets better after sitting for a while. Eat and eat and eat.

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To My Future Quirkytogether

Staying on the kick of quirkyalone, I wrote a letter to the person who happens to steal my heart.

To my future Quirkyalone:

Sometimes I get grumpy. And when I say grumpy, I mean silent and kind of mean. And when I say kind of mean, I kind of turn into the sassiest mother fucker you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Sorry.

I also love my dog more then you.

Don’t take this personally. It is just that he has always been there. You haven’t. My dog and my family will probably trump you every time. I think that says something about my character. Some may call it selfishness. I call it loyalty.

I probably like musical theater too much. Don’t worry; you don’t have to like it. If you do, you get one million bonus points.

The holiday season means I want to hold your mittened hand while we get a Christmas tree. I want to drink soy nog (you can drink real eggnog I guess) and listen to Vince Guaraldi while decorating said tree. I will probably ask you to hang up the lights; I am not good at that.

I really like books. You can find me at a half price book store blowing a good portion of my paycheck. I am a firm believer in keeping books, which means I’m running out of shelf space. I imagine we will sit and read together a lot. I hope you like to read.

I am somewhat of a homebody. I have roots spread pretty wide and pretty deep into the Pacific Northwest soil. I thrive off of rainy days and endless green.

Yes, I sometimes wear flannel. Yes, I drink too much coffee. And yes, I consider hiking a favorite pastime.

I hope your home is where I am, and where I am is here.

Although I always know my home, I love to adventure.

My world is a bit brighter because I have seen places. As far north as Iceland, as far south as New Zealand—I leave behind tiny fragments of my self in each place. I hope to spread myself across the globe.

Maybe your pieces and my pieces can dance the tango in Spain.

I hope that when we end up tying the knot, we will say I Do at the top of a mountain. With hiking boots on–slightly sweaty and a bit too muddy. Our dog(s) will be there. And perhaps a banjo or two. We will keep things simple. A cooler full of beers and a few good friends.

Oh yes. Most importantly, I love my freckles—as should you.

Sincerely,

Me

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