I have been feeling off. It’s so hard to describe. I haven’t felt funny. Well, funny but not the funny people care about. I haven’t felt pretty. I haven’t felt like I have done a good job managing my life. That’s the problem with being raised to excel and having remaining baptist guilt. I grapple with feeling “not enough” frequently. In recent years, I have managed it and for 5 years(2008-2013), medicated it.
I looked in the mirror last week, trying on last summer’s clothes and a flood of self doubt washed over me. I think, sadly, most women have these moments. “I did this to myself. Why did I let myself eat what I want? Why do I not have self restraint? You didn’t need to get 10 wings and fries and beer. You look awful because you were weak.”
Side bar: This post isn’t meant as a call to action to message me and tell me how pretty and funny I am and that I actually am good at managing money. Just let me share my gosh darn feelings, okay?
Comedians are notorious for having self destructive tendencies and I am not exempt. While I am not a fan of drugs or being drunk, I reward myself with food and punish myself with harmful talk. A vicious cycle. As I have mentioned on here before, food for me is social and fun. There is nothing more fun that grabbing wings with a friend and squealing that you’re being “bad” by ordering an appetizer, beer, double orders of wings, and fries and talking about getting ice cream later. My Southern heritage dictates that I show loved ones I care about them by breaking bread together or cooking a bountiful meal for them.
On top of my mounting self doubt about my not-bikini-ready-body, I am trying to manage financial strains, and a very stressful ordeal planning a bachelorette trip to the beach where I will be swimming in a long sleeve shirt while everyone is talking about base tans.
I sometimes forget that I live in America and these things are so small compared to AIDS or extreme poverty. Then I fell guilty. Fuck. I just suck.
Things feel much bigger when they swim around in your head and you don’t want it to spill out of your mouth and eyes.
I am fortunate that my thoughts floated away from that negativity swimming around this weekend. I had some resolution with “beach bachelorette bash”, I made an action plan for my finances that were stressing me and determined May was the month of healthy behaviors, and to cap it off my sweet man friend proposed we make home made baked wings.
I was down. He sent me this link: Honey Garlic Baked Wings
This was an interesting recipe considering you toss the raw wings in a baking powder and salt mix then cook them on low to melt the fat.
Cook time was a little over an hour but watching Hateful Eight made it not seem so long.
Here they are, not so pretty but the crackling sound they make is a beautiful symphony.
Once the wings were fully cooked, we tossed them in our homemade honey, garlic, soy sauce, white vinegar, and sriracha sauce. (We did not have a garlic press so chunky garlic was the best option.) Also, I am not good at plating wings.
If wings could be this crispy all the time, I would be thrilled. SO GOOD!!! They tasted fried!
We had enough left over wings that we put them in the fridge for later consumption (not tossed in sauce). Then we did a traditional wing sauce with Frank’s, garlic, butter, and a teeny bit of sugar.
We crisped up with leftovers in the oven , tossed them, and they were just as good as the day before!
I could have eaten dozens of wings this weekend, but I restrained myself.
Wings and spending time with people I care about really made me forget about the things that are troubling me.
I can’t get rid of my feelings and anxieties but I just have to be in the moment and focus on one wing at a time.