Passion in a waterproof cast

Being a girl born between two boys can only go two ways in my eyes: you’re either the princess type or you’re the tomboy.

To say I was the tomboy is putting it pretty lightly. I didn’t even wear girls clothes as whole until sophomore/junior year of highschool. Makeup didn’t come around till senior year. I did however have INSANELY long hair. It was kind of ridiculous. Hacking it all off- for locks for love- was probably the most rewarding thing I’ve done in my life at that point. Not to mention refreshing.

No matter what, this was how I wore my hair 90% of the time. And yes those are plaid pants. Be jealous.

I grew up just like one of the boys. I always had to outdo my brothers somehow- even if they weren’t in on the competition. I broke more bones than both my brothers combined and got more stitches than they ever dreamed of. This all took place before I turned 10. I wasn’t exactly a graceful child. But I’ll be damned if I let a silly little cast stop me from expressing myself.

Mom always likes to tell everyone that when I was given a coloring book and crayons, I was determined to use every single color of crayon I had in every single picture I colored. I can’t deny this. I have always been meticulous about things I create, even if it hinders the jobs of others. Which brings me back to my casts.

In middle school, I was determined to be an equal to the guys and I knew that I could play football just as good as any boy, even if I had absolutely no idea what was going on- I caught the ball and I ran to whatever endzone I figured was the one that lead me to score. That’s all I needed to know. Well in one particular game, I caught the ball funny, and then was tackled. I wasn’t about to drop that ball, or the guys wouldn’t let me play anymore. Well that tackle and weird catch resulted in a pretty nasty break- broke my hand in 5 places and had to have my hand reset. Mom almost fainted watching my hand specialist (I had a specialist for almost every part of my body by then…I wish I was kidding) re-break my hand and put it back together.

Around that time, it was a new thing to have a water proof and/or color cast. Think my super cool doc would give me either/both? Dr. Hanz wasn’t that cool…yes I realize the irony too...Dr. Hanz was my hand doc. SO what did I do? I dug out my box of nail polishes and painted that cast a patchwork that Joseph and his Technicolor dreamcoat would be envious of.   Dr. Hanz removed the cast 2 months later and said that I shoudn’t paint a cast like in case the paint softens the cast. My argument of having a color cast next time went unheard. Well, 2 weeks later- no lie- I was back in his office. I had tripped during a game of indoor tag and smacked my still healing hand on a door frame and broke it in 3 more places. This time I begged for a color cast. Again I was denied the absolute coolest accessory in broken bone fashion.

Since I didn’t want to be yelled at for painting a cast again and I may or may not have had a teeny tiny attitude problem, I went out and bought a shit ton of little plastic fish. All sorts of fish. Even some plastic seaweed and a tiny scuba diver. And I superglued that shit in an epic mural on my arm.

To my surprise, Dr. Hanz did not appreciate my hard work, nor did he admire my artwork. Especially when he had to maneuver his cast saw around the sealife as if he were navigating through the Labyrinth.

The next time I got a cast, it was the most beautiful teal, waterproof cast anyone has ever seen.

Found this guy in my garden yesterday and instantly thought about how he was probably taking a break from some epic battle.

Not going to lie, I had a full conversation, albiet one-sided, with this guy

My creativity didn’t cease with decoration. Mind you I still felt that my life always needed some form of decoration. I had a wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling collage that took me over a year to create in my bedroom. Some pieces were the size of my finger nail. It was quite the accomplishment. Anywho, growing up how I did, I found that self entertainment was a necessity. I read a lot, and I played outside even more. I loved being in the dirt, or in the water. I didn’t really wear shoes unless necessary. Bugs were amazing to me- even today I still flip a rock just to see what’s under it. I would create elaborate stories with the creatures I came across. I fell in love with books that had anything to do with mythical creatures. Anything that involved my imagination, I was game for. Films like the Labyrinth, the Dark Crystal and naturally anything by Disney were all staples for me. I could watch all of them on repeat and never get tired of them. Sometimes my imagination would wear off on others.

My sister Opie and I like to remind each other about the time we “saved the fishies” on Nantasket Beach. We grew up in hull and staying out past dark on the beach wasn’t unheard of. One particular day, we were playing in the muddy sand and would dig a hole, to have the water pool itself in. Well we found that there were little tiny fish swimming in the water and when the mud would settle, the fish would be taken by the mud. We were so concerned that these fish were going to die in the mud, we grabbed our buckets and started digging holes and scooping the fish from the pooled water and throwing them in the ocean. The entire time we were doing these we were singing a made up song “We’re saaaAAAAAAAVVVViing the fishies, we’re HEELLLLPING the fishes!!!!” I can still remember how it goes and everything. We did this well past sundown. We were determined to save those little guys.

Turns out they were sand fleas and they lived in the mud. But hey, who’s to stop some determined kids set out to save a life.

Today my creativity and imagination has manifested itself into a skill set that I’ve gone to college for and have found an insane passion for- the culinary arts. I have such an intimate relationship with food, its hard to describe. I fucking love food. I love how it can change your entire mood. I love how you can manipulate one piece of food into a hundred different dishes and have each dish taste completely different. And salt? Omfg salt is a miracle. Next time you’re cooking, don’t add salt. When you think your dish is finished cooking, taste it. Now add your salt. Taste it again. COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. It’s insane! The science behind food is amazing. Its crazy how components of the same makeup react to each other. Vinegar, made from vegetables like corn. Add a tsp of vinegar to the boiling water you use to blanch vegetables and it will turn certain vegetables different colors, and brighten or darken others. I could go on forever. Don’t even get me started on the flavor profiles and the infinite amount of combinations. Seriously food is amazing. Food provides tradition to take place. It brings people together. It is the centerpiece to holidays, celebration and rituals.

How can anyone not love food? Sure some may say I love food a little too much, but bitch please, I have the body of a goddess and I’ve loved every bite that got me here. 

Bread pudding from my Plated Desserts class

The effects on red and green peppers and cauliflower with different amounts of vinegar

Making vegetable lasagna

A sample platter of an in-house burger I created  at a bagel shop

I cook SOMETHING every day, and I pray that I always have that luxury. Cooking will always be my vice. If I have a shitty day, I know that putting together an elaborate braised chicken dinner will settle my nerves, at least until Mister can talk me out of whatever nonsense I’ve developed in my head.  But for god sake if the radio is on and there are pots, pans, knives, bowls, cutting boards and food everywhere in the kitchen…don’t you dare interrupt me or ask with disgust what I could possibly making. I am having a religious experience. I am communicating with my god in the way I know how to- through my passion.

Me and the Mister at graduation from JWU

So lesson learned, don’t deny a determined, passionate tomboy her teal, waterproof cast. It won’t end easy.