New Improved Personal Cooking

Recipe For Disaster
Getting Your Just Desserts
Dish Ran away With the Spoon
Half-Baked and Getting Steamed
Proof Is In the Pudding
Too Many Cooks Spoil the Broth
I'm the Damn Gingerbread Woman
*These could all be titles for this rant written for my own edification and entertainment, on a day when life seemed to be taking a bite outta me. Thought I would share.
Basic ingredients:
1 "I", separated
1 conformity-demanding societyhalf a dozen well-meaning relatives
1 formal educationat least
1 truckload of mental concepts, labels includedfistful of more/bettergenerous encouragement of fearpinch of measurement, begetting comparison (or to taste)
1. Always start with fresh ingredients.Crack an egg. Allow it to develop into a human (is that a bun in the oven?).At the appropriate moment, welcome wonderful world! Eyes open, not a thought anywhere. Hungry, wet, no problem, because no "I". Just hunger happens, just wetness, no language. No recipe for success.Mix is fluid and light.
2. Sprinkle in and absorb the idea, coming from everywhere, that there is an "I", called (insert name). Fold in the first of many concepts--that since this I is "here", all else is a "thing, over there".Whatever. Still no problem. Words.Wait. You mean, there's a secret code? To all this? Everything has a NAME?!Magic!Carefully stir in language. Stir in more language. Keep stirring.Separation will occur.
3. Introduce rules based on language. Blend until identity is solidified. Personhood is beginning to rise, as well as "the other". Conflict ensues.If at this point the mixture begins to pull away from itself, beat until pliable.Turn onto a flat surface and knead with gusto. Also, begin to need. And want. After all, there are so many goodies, so many additions out there! They say that s/he who finishes with the most sprinkles WINS!(Some fear, involving not getting/being/having enough, may rise to the surface. Ignore thoroughly.)
4. Let mixture stand in confusion while busying oneself with "survival" and problematic relating to those pesky "others". Notice that a crust is beginning to form. Is this normal? Pour a glass of wine. Toast your favorite kind of denial.At this point, variations of the basic recipe become endless, characterized by cheflike opinions, such as: Needs to chill, must add spice, too much fluff, waaaay too heavy, crusty is bad, sweet is better, you're burnt, not enough substance, vegan is the Way (meals have morals, too!), you should bake but you shouldn't smoke, if you can't stand the heat/cold, why are you in the kitchen/arctic?--etc., etc.
5. Now there is a thick, hard shell. There may or may not be a gooey center. Is this the correct recipe?Oven is set to "when hell freezes over"; timer stuck between "past" and "future". Perfect. You have followed the directions well. Quell all suspicions. You have flour on your nose. Have you looked in the mirror, lately?
6. Ready yourself, for everyone depends on you. Proper control depends upon your critical preparedness and leadership skills. Develop a sensitivity to gluten, while being highly allergic to peanut butter. Meanwhile, fantasize about such things as peanut butter cookies.
7. God, how long is this supposed to be in the oven?Here's a clue: Ashes to ashes...
8. Not sure about this. Obviously, the recipe is somehow flawed, or the cook uneducated or rebellious. This does not look or feel right. It's even PAINFUL.Maybe seek an expert chef's opinion? Maybe just dump it and start over? But I invested so much! I've had such faith!Y'know, it wasn't supposed to stink like this.The picture showed it rich and beautiful, with the people saying, "Ahhhhh!"Why is it so flat? Her dish is firmer. He likes firm. They told me it was bitter. I think salt is bad. I remember when cooking was fun. Maybe some more frosting/glaze/sauce...that's me, all right, can't leave well enough alone. Why are there so many damn PROBLEMS? Isn't there supposed to be an easier way?
9. Screw it--I'm done! Into the oven it goes. Look at this mess! How many times do I have to tell people to put their stuff away? I need a vacation! If only I hadn't bought the New Vegematic Mixmaster with the Advanced Rack, I could be in Tahiti...!
10. Wake up to fire. Dust to dust, on the bottom of the cosmic self-cleaning oven. Holy crap! Why didn't the timer go off?!How to serve:The truth is best without garnish.The recipe, education, ingredients, cooks, advanced kitchen technology, bloodhound-like sense of smell--all of it went up in smoke.My world, my house, my oven, myspace, my self, me--lost in the fire.I guess there's nothing to bring to the potluck.Except, hey...If I'm burnt, and no longer chef, kitchen, dough or salmonella...maybe I'm the party itself? Hell, could I be the whole enchilada? Herself and guests and table and country and world and...how about the egg, cracking? My parent's precoital picnic? My great-great-grandchildren's unleavened, gluten-free DNA?Hey! Could I be the very context in which any nourishment/starvation happens at all?Could I be...do I...am I before context?Tips:Serve warm in winter, cool in summer.Everyone is invited. No exceptions.Leave the concepts off the cake, and you won't have to stress about calories or any other nutritional content. No problems are real. :)