Breakfast tacos and 18 cm. = 7 ins.

Breakfast tacos

My Mom updated her website. This is the description of one of her artist books:

Why Me? 2003

Why Me? is about acne from an adolescent girl’s perspective. Text by Jenny [last name]. 9″ x11″ handmade paper with embedded dried beans, inkjet text.

Did my mother bake cookies? No. Did she drive me to choir rehearsal? Only under duress. But she did make A BOOK ABOUT MY ACNE, ostensibly from my teenage perspective (“Picking Picking Picking Picking Picking Picking Picking”), using “embedded dried beans” to approximate the look of my skin, and then posted it on her website.

Thirty-nine, single, and childless is starting to make more sense!

Wait — you want a link? Here. (The website looks great, Mom!)

So I’m surfing OKCupid. Someone in Berlin, one of the coolest cities I’ve visited, writes about the kind of woman he’s looking for:

“Ants and mold are beautiful for her.”

That’s COOL, I think. Really COOL.

And then:

“I survived a personal tragedy in Vienna. I lost literally everything; most painfully, I lose someone.”

OH MY GOD. I’m instantly in nurturer mode. I can’t help it. I know I’m on a dating website and have an average daily 300 percent chance of being manipulated. Still, I read on with great interest. WHAT HAPPENED IN VIENNA?

But the next sentence is:

“You won’t ask about this, please.”

AS IF. AS IF AS IF AS IF. The idea that I would be able not to bring this up within the first 30 seconds of meeting this person is impossible.

Him: Hi, Jenny! I’m so-and-so! So nice to finally meet you!
Me: WHO DIED AND HOW DID THEY DIE AND WHAT DID THEY MEAN TO YOU AND DID YOU LOVE THEM AND ARE YOU HEARTBROKEN AND WHAT DOES THAT FEEL LIKE.

Then:

The most private thing I’m willing to admit:

18 cm.

YOU DID NOT.

YOU DID NOT.

At first, I try to convert the metric system in my head. But I’m confused because when I think about centimeters, even 18 of them, I think small. I’m American, and we deal in larger increments because WE ARE NOT A SUBTLE PEOPLE. And then, just as I start to sweat at the temples (I CANNA DO METERS), I Google it.

Eighteen centimeters is not small.

Among many things that can be observed about Berlin’s astonishing reveal, it directly contradicts this:

“At present I have very little to offer except the humble richness of my body and my mind, my heart and my soul, for what it’s worth.”

ALSO YOUR SEVEN-INCH DICK. REMEMBER WHEN YOU WROTE THAT.

Back to MeetMindful, where my potential future mates describe THEMSELVES as “Enlightened,” “Advice Guru,” and “Inspiring.” THIS IS WHAT’S WRONG WITH MILLENNIALS.

Breakfast tacos are super easy and unbelievably delicious! But the best part is that somewhere along the line I discovered that Greek yogurt is WAY — and I mean WAY — tastier than sour cream.

You need:

  • 1 TB olive oil
  • 2 corn tortillas (Trader Joe’s!)
  • 1 TB butter
  • 2 eggs
  • Cotija cheese
  • Cilantro
  • Greek yogurt
  • Your favorite hot sauce (I happen to love Tapatio. Other people swear by Cholula. But the absolute best is this Indonesian kind I carried back from Bali called Sambal Asli; I have no illusions about it being fancy, as it’s their ketchup and on every table, but I just love it — it’s garlic and hot peppers and sugar and super hot and super tasty.)
  • Salt

You need to:

  • Heat a cast-iron frying pan on high. Pour in olive oil. Turn on the fan and disable your smoke alarms.
  • Heat a separate pan on medium-low with the butter.
  • Drop one of the corn tortillas into the cast-iron pan.
  • When the butter in the separate pan is melted, crack two eggs into it. Using a rubber spatula, gently push apart the yolks. Pay attention to this pan and turn the heat down. You are making perfect scrambled eggs. Push them constantly around the pan until they’re a sunny yellow and cooked through. Turn heat off.
  • When the corn tortilla in the other pan starts to smoke and gets crispy and brown in stripes on one side, flip it. When it’s cooked on both sides, put it on a plate. Then fry the other tortilla.
  • Turn off heat.
  • Cut two chunks of cotija cheese and put on tortillas.
  • Put half of eggs on one tortilla and half on the other.
  • Scoop Greek yogurt on top of eggs.
  • Chop up tons of cilantro and drop on eggs.
  • Splatter with hot sauce.
  • Sprinkle with salt.
  • EAT. EAT THE PAIN AWAY.

4 Comments Add yours

  1. suegranzella says:

    I’m facing a crisis of conscience. EVERY DAY I find myself hoping that there will be a new post on your blog, although a new post likely means that the mission to find someone isn’t going that great. Do you see my dilemma? How in the %$#* did you manage to weave in your mother’s use of embedded acne-beans with a brokenhearted guy’s pronouncement of his size???!!! (WHILE cheerfully complimenting your mom on her site??!) I COULD NOT stop laughing at “…and we deal in larger increments because WE ARE NOT A SUBTLE PEOPLE.” HAHAHAHAHAHA!! You’re killing me!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Trust me, Sue — every day I wake up and think, at least if I never find love my blog will be very successful!! I can’t lose! Thank you so much for reading and for your incredibly kind comments!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. gailquilts says:

    Yes, yes, yes! I enjoy your blog~! And, tell your mom please that I liked her fiber art :).

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I will tell her, Gail! Thank you!!

    Like

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