Intro entry
Wednesday, April 25th, 2007It PAINS me to say this on my first blog entry – your introduction to me. To quote something so mainstream is so….mainstream. But Forrest nailed it on the bench that fateful day - life is like a box of chocolates. The only part I disagree with is that you DO always know what you’re gonna get. There’s always the nauseating, cherry-filled cube, perpetually flanked by the coveted caramel-filled nuggets (why are there only two per box when they’re everyone’s favorite?). And you’d be hard-pressed to miss the tri-fecta of those heath-bar wannabe wafers.
ALWAYS THE SAME LINE-UP. And if you custom-order your assortment to include only your favorites, you’re cheating fate. That’s my opinion.
How See’s candies provide an analogy for life – at least life my life as a mother, daughter, sister, friend and wife – is easy. You’ve got to subject yourself to the sticky, chewy muck of a mess called life to get what you’re really after. Of course, some of us have to eat more cherry-filled’s than others. (I happen to be one of these people.) Perpetually in sticky – often, nauseating - situations, I’ve become a master of swallowing as quickly as possible. For I know first-hand that - once digested - life’s lessons can be sweet. Hence, my alias: Sugar Mama. A sucker for the sticky.
Or maybe I’m just a sucker…with an impending weight problem if I don’t switch gears.
But that’s the thing with me – I can use any analogy to support any theory. And I am a big believer – and user – of cliché’s. Once, when asked if my son might be a piano prodigy, I responded with, “That’s about as likely as an acorn in a plum tree”. In other words, ‘no’. That gem’s rarely used (or could I have made it up?), but most of the sayings I use you’ll know, like, “He who smelt it, dealt it.”; or, “I know you are, but what am I?”; and, my personal favorite, ”It’s Miller Time.” (These may even be used simultaneously.)
But I’ll stick with Forrest Gump and his candy and shrimp for now. (All that wisdom in just 2+ hours was not lost on me.) Because when it comes to our own little shrimps, you can sauté one, fry his brother, or sprinkle their father with lemon - it all goes to the same place: your gut.
But not before they sear our hearts.


