Where do we go from here?: An Inner Dialogue

In Uncategorized on March 26, 2015 at 8:24 AM

We’re at an impasse. Any decision is the wrong decision on some level, even the easiest decision is probably the worst: doing nothing at all. Let everything stay the way it is. Keep living in the pretend reality that everything is okay. Keep letting the years go by without making a decision. Keep hoping things will change. You know you keep repeating that stupid quote in your head “The definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting different results.” And yet you keep doing it. Because the moment you stand on the precipice, the moment you look at the edge at what’s unknown at the bottom, you pull back. You recede into what’s known, what’s comfortable. Even though you know it’s irrational. Even though you know it’s holding you back from progress.

This year you have come the closest yet to making the jump. Have faith. The therapist is right: you are immature. You are not mature enough to stand on your own. You are not mature enough to take what you already know and put it into practice. That one statement twisted your reality so far backwards, that now you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. It really is your fault. You put yourself here and only you can bring yourself out.

So, I ask again, where do we go from here? Do we continue on this path through the fishbowl we have been pretending is the world? Knowing that eventually it will end, but allowing someone else to make that decision for us? Are we that weak? Maybe we are. Let’s fade back into our false reality for a bit longer. It’s comfortable here with the wool pulled over our eyes.


In Autobiography on December 24, 2013 at 9:02 AM

There are so many things in this life beyond my grasp. Dreams, aspirations, expectations I had for the future that just never could have been realized. I am a dreamer. You knew this from the beginning. And you were a wanderer – you loved deeply, but that love was flawed. Just as I am flawed. I am broken.

Like the toy that is thrown aside when something shiny and new comes along, you kept me because perhaps deep down you really needed me, but you did not appreciate me. I am the beaten and battered toy from so many tumbles into the back of your mind. And I am broken.

My flaws are real, there is no one on this earth that is perfect. But imperfect as I may be, I loved you with as much that any person could give another. I sat by you through bad times and relished in the good. I tried my best to fix myself along the way, to pick up the broken pieces of my heart, to give you as much love as I could. Yet in the end, I remain broken.

As unhealthy as this love may be, I need you. You are the glue that keeps the pieces together and you are the hammer that rips them apart. Each time I shatter the pieces scatter farther, taking more and more time to find. Will you be there to find the pieces to fix my broken heart or will you again disappear to leave me blind in the dark? I am still broken.

Life, Death and Bocconcini con Crema

In Family, Italian, Recipes on December 29, 2010 at 10:32 AM
Image by Protoflux on Flickr

I have taken a break from writing over the holiday season, not necessarily consciously, however my personal life has been so busy that I just haven’t found the time to gather my thoughts. I have been training for the ING half marathon, competing in Lululemon’s 12 days of fitness, buying/wrapping gifts, traveling to visit family members and working a 40-hour job. Yesterday was a wake-up call, though. My great-grandmother passed away, after a full life of 95 years, in a hospice room with the air thick with unease. 

You see, there are times when families can be the hardest on each other, imposing impossible demands in the most difficult of situations. While I thankfully have been able to keep my distance from the madness, this has also provided an outsider’s view on the situation. Life and death are not simple. Nothing is ever black and white, there comes a time in everyone’s life where a decision made will haunt them forever. But it shouldn’t be that way – we shouldn’t beat ourselves up (or our family members, those we are supposed to love and support) for decisions that NO ONE would have been able to make. When it comes to a 95 year old woman on her last leg of life, is it better to force her to eat, willingly prolonging the inevitable? Or is it better to listen to a doctor’s seemingly cold, unemotional response to allow your great-grandmother…grandmother…mother starve to death?

Whilst these thoughts soar through my brain and out into cyberspace, I do feel better. I’d love to provide a proper farewell for my great-grandmother, but the truth of the matter is that I really didn’t know her that well. My memories of her are fading, as most are from when I was very little. I remember eating at her house many weekends, near the beach and quite a distance from my grandmother’s house. She would prepare homemade pasta, tomato sauce, and cream puffs. My cousin and I would play around her house, decorated as if she never left the seventies. She would wear flowery dresses and dress suits, I remember one dress in particular: dark blue background, flowing to the floor, tiny white flowers dotting the entire length of the dress. And I remember the large palm tree near her front door, she let someone take the heart of it one day and my grandmother got angry, fearing it would be killed. I’m not sure if it died or not.

Sadly, these are the most memories that I can conjure up of her. I remember that she always had a preference for my cousin, never really paying much attention to me. I had more than enough attention from my own grandmother, so I never felt that I was missing much of anything. I don’t blame her for anything that happened, the family is full of strong women and they overpowered her. My aunts always took center stage, the youngest of the siblings and the fact that they are twins.

And so, I believe the best way to show my appreciation, my memory of her, is through her food: the one thing that I will never forget about her. While this is not her exact recipe, this is my own rendition of our family’s cream puffs. I hope you enjoy it – cherish these times with your family, and don’t let decisions, whether big or small, come between you. In the end, the only thing you’ll remember is how much, or little, you cared for one another.


Grandma Amato, Matilda Amato, I love you and I wish the best for you. I know you have gone to a better place and that you can rest now, everything is alright. You are in the hands of someone much more powerful, more peaceful, more loving and caring, and he will take care of you now.


Bocconcini con Crema (Italian Cream Puffs)

For the pastry dough:   

  • 4 large eggs
  • ½ cup butter
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1 cup all purpose flour (unbleached)
  • 1 cup water
  • Confectioner’s sugar for dusting

For the filling:                  

  • 6 large egg yolks
  • ½ cup sugar, divided
  • ½ teaspoon cinnamon
  • 2 cups milk
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • ½ cup flour

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix sugar, flour and salt for the dough in a medium bowl. Over medium heat, melt butter and water until boiling. Turn off heat and slowly add the sugar mixture, stirring constantly. Continue stirring until the dough forms a tight ball in the pan. Transfer dough into your mixing bowl and beat (either by hand or on low) for one minute to cool the dough. Lightly beat the four large eggs and, once the dough has cooled some, slowly beat in the eggs to the dough. Once it is in a thick paste, with your hands or a spoon, make small balls and transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Each ball should be roughly the size of a walnut. Bake 20-25 minutes on 400 degrees until golden. You should hear a hollow sound when tapping the puff. Allow them to cool on a wire rack.

While the puffs are baking and cooling, boil two cups milk and ¼ cup sugar in a saucepan. In a separate bowl, mix the six egg yolks with the remaining ¼ cup sugar. Slowly add in the flour while stirring constantly. Whisk a third of the boiling mixture very slowly into the bowl with the egg mixture. After mixing thoroughly, start gently pouring the egg/milk mixture into the boiling saucepan. Stir constantly over medium heat. After it begins to thicken, stir for one more minute and then remove from the heat. Stir in the vanilla and cinnamon and transfer to a cool bowl. Put in the refrigerator for at least two hours to cool.

Once the puffs and cream is cooled, carefully cut the tops off of the puffs lengthwise and spoon out any dough from the center. Using a pastry bag or a spoon, add the cream to the center of each puff and replace the tops. Sprinkle all with confectioner’s sugar and serve. They will keep for up to one day in the refrigerator, however they are best served immediately.


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