Monday, April 03, 2006
Unexpected: the lock-out becomes a lucky day
I hope I never lose the absurdity of today. A day that was as typical as it was outlandish. It began just another Sunday. Morning set in and I couldn’t sleep—not after a long night working at the bar. Between insomnia and sunshine, I made my way to Eastern Market, thinking about food and guests for dinner along the way. My menu was nonsense. A crazy menu of assorted empanadas, pesto lasagna and salad was in the works. And then, who could have imagined my guests would bring enough wine? The mind races.
At dinner, the food was amazing. The company was a mélange of laughter, smiles and wine. Vegetables were passed around of all flavors, styles and the herbs rang true—accentuating our celebratory mood. How could you possibly end the perfect night? With a lock-out. I was a homeless girl, my lock broken and my friends’ bags inside, behind a locked door; we had to celebrate from without. As we enjoyed our time in my hallway and kept my sanity in the present, I began to think a little about clarity. How do you turn a typically insane day into a lesson?
How do you know whether you’re headed in the right direction? How do you know if you’re living a good life? What do you say when people ask you, “How can you possibly be this happy?” When you’re left raw and open, whether by breakup or broken lock, what do you do?
You live. You feel the flavors; the Italian parsley or Cremini picked yesterday. You taste. When the tasting is an experience of atmosphere, flavor, texture and time, it can be enough. Whether you’re inhaling the last remaining empanada while watching friends dance and waiting for the illusive locksmith or breathing in the calmly energizing dining room of Coppi’s Organic Restaurant, you take in everything and just live. That immediate experiencing of mood and meal brought me face-to-face with the clarity I sought to find.
Taking the clear taste of a pizza made from fresh eggplant, portabella and red pepper, scouted out by the chef at Coppi’s, ensured that I tasted every flavor. I ate tomato so full of flavor that all you needed to do was place it in the blender for a few minutes to have amazing sauce, for me, is like being perched on a DC rowhouse, overlooking your life and knowing, without a doubt and inexplicably, that everything will work out. In a world without rhyme or reason, but with sweetness and a little soul, everything will be alright.
The locksmith got my door open, we found more liquor to pass the time and I will get it figured out (eventually). The bottom line is that, whatever it is doesn’t matter. The moral of the story is that the true "it" lies in figuring out, and not necessarily knowing, the answer. Sometimes, the best we can hope for is just the first spring hug of wind on our arms or the way kale tasted when it's cooked just right.
At dinner, the food was amazing. The company was a mélange of laughter, smiles and wine. Vegetables were passed around of all flavors, styles and the herbs rang true—accentuating our celebratory mood. How could you possibly end the perfect night? With a lock-out. I was a homeless girl, my lock broken and my friends’ bags inside, behind a locked door; we had to celebrate from without. As we enjoyed our time in my hallway and kept my sanity in the present, I began to think a little about clarity. How do you turn a typically insane day into a lesson?
How do you know whether you’re headed in the right direction? How do you know if you’re living a good life? What do you say when people ask you, “How can you possibly be this happy?” When you’re left raw and open, whether by breakup or broken lock, what do you do?
You live. You feel the flavors; the Italian parsley or Cremini picked yesterday. You taste. When the tasting is an experience of atmosphere, flavor, texture and time, it can be enough. Whether you’re inhaling the last remaining empanada while watching friends dance and waiting for the illusive locksmith or breathing in the calmly energizing dining room of Coppi’s Organic Restaurant, you take in everything and just live. That immediate experiencing of mood and meal brought me face-to-face with the clarity I sought to find.
Taking the clear taste of a pizza made from fresh eggplant, portabella and red pepper, scouted out by the chef at Coppi’s, ensured that I tasted every flavor. I ate tomato so full of flavor that all you needed to do was place it in the blender for a few minutes to have amazing sauce, for me, is like being perched on a DC rowhouse, overlooking your life and knowing, without a doubt and inexplicably, that everything will work out. In a world without rhyme or reason, but with sweetness and a little soul, everything will be alright.
The locksmith got my door open, we found more liquor to pass the time and I will get it figured out (eventually). The bottom line is that, whatever it is doesn’t matter. The moral of the story is that the true "it" lies in figuring out, and not necessarily knowing, the answer. Sometimes, the best we can hope for is just the first spring hug of wind on our arms or the way kale tasted when it's cooked just right.
