Let's Pretend

I have never understood the idiom "peel the onion". I am not one of those careful people who digests things slowly before deciding the best plan of action. No. I am a jumper-iner-er. Once invested in something, I can plan the hell out of it, but, the decision to become passionate about something if often not well thought out.

Maybe that is why it has taken me so long to start this blog. I have been passionate about the idea of writing for a very, very long time. But actually putting things on paper does require becoming intimate with the many layers of who I am and how life has shaped me. I can figure those things out at a high level glance. Taking a deeper look (or peeling that onion) is uncomfortable and time consuming.

Besides...for those of us who enjoy cooking, one learns that peeling an onion is not a pleasant experience. Taking things slowly with an onion often results in tears. Those of us who know, attack the onion in the best manner suitable for the situation at hand. We get in and we get out. Once the onion is part of the bigger recipe, it is okay to take your time. Let things simmer. Let things bake. But that first part...one had better hurry up.

I have lived a lot of my life to date flying by the seat of my pants. Many may think I have been too quick in big decisions, too hasty in moving from point A to point B, and too removed from the emotions that should be associated with certain things (apparently they are not aware of the bottles of goodies in my medicine cabinet!!!). To illustrate their thoughts, let's take a look at the life of my imaginary friend, "Crazy Camille (CC)".

Let's pretend that CC grew up in a non-typical home where her parents ran a group home for the mentally ill and all of her earliest playmates were "not quite right".

Let's pretend that CC developed a weight issue and wasn't appreciated by her peers and that this fact would forever cause her to undervalue herself.

Let's pretend CC's parents got divorced because "daddy" had a little too much extra-curricular fun.

Let's pretend CC's dad developed a nasty disease called Huntington's Disease (HD) that made him irrational, somewhat mean at times and affected his ability to walk and talk. Let's also add that CC had watched her grandfather, uncles, aunts etc... die from the same disease because there was no treatment or cure for this weird illness.

Let's pretend that CC joined sports, lost weight and became a 7 or 8 out of 10 in the looks category.

Let's pretend that CC discovered at the age of 14 that she too had a 50% chance of developing HD by the time she reached her mid-thirties.

As a caveat here...we should add that CC discovered she was at-risk through doing a lot of research about HD. In effect, she had peeled the onion a bit too much and it had served to bite her in the ass. Ignorance had been bliss and now her life suddenly had an inherent timeline. At 14 CC knew she needed to complete her education, make her mark on the world through something really important, find a man, marry him, have kids, travel the world, experience everything she wanted out of life and run very, very, very fast in hopes of outrunning her own genetics. And, by best guess, she had better have all of the above sorted by the time she reached the ripe age of 35.

Let's pretend that CC kept it together for most of her highschool career. She excelled in school, graduated one month after turning 17 and started college before she was of legal age to vote (or have sex for that matter).

Let's pretend that CC found college wildly exciting with forays in to drinking, weed, Marlborough Lights (or whatever else she could bum from people) and trying to figure out the rest of her life.

Let's pretend that in addition to the forays above, CC continued to look for love in all the wrong places trying to replace what was missing from her father and trying to live her life as fast as possible. The result was a lot of short term relationships, a couple one or two night stands and a whole lot of heartbreak. CC still didn't quite understand that she had value.

Let's pretend that despite all of that, CC graduated with all right credentials and was on all the right "lists" in the graduation program. Let's also add that she graduated with a double major and a minor before she was old enough to legally drink.

Let's pretend that CC went to graduate school in a place far, far away from home. She completed with both academic honors and more failed, meaningless relationships.

Let's pretend that CC met the man who made her world spin right before graduating from graduate school. His name was Mike.

A little preface about Mike is needed here. Mike was an average looking guy. Mike had traveled the world for a few years and that made him seem wonderfully mysterious. Mike came from money, was going to make a lot of money (one could just tell) and was REALLY exciting. He lived life in the fast lane and he also was a jumper-iner-er. There was some magical pheromone power between the two of them resulting in relationship of great passion. Mike was, however, young and not about to settle down anytime soon despite CC's best efforts.

Let's pretend that Mike and CC continued to stumble through the next few years. During that time the highs were really high and the lows were rock bottom. On CC's 25th birthday Mike made his non-marriage intentions clear and CC realized that she was nowhere in life that she thought she would be. She was in a low-level position in a career she didn't love, marriage was nowhere in sight and the clock was ticking. But, despite Mike's clear intentions, CC hung on because maybe he would come around.

Let's pretend Mike and CC took a vacation together to Spain.

Let's pretend that after a small disagreement about travel plans, CC got on a train by herself to go somewhere else.

Let's pretend that when she checked in to the nearest backpacker's hostel, she saw a dashing young man sitting in the bar who might just break her out of the funk she was currently feeling.

Let's pretend that CC struck up a conversation with the sexy Brit who's name was Vince. CC and Vince became fast friends while site-seeing and getting to know one-another. Vince did make CC's heart beat a bit faster and she felt a certain exhiliration just being near him.

Let's pretend CC and Vince parted ways and promised to stay in touch. And, they did email each other after that from time to time.

Let's pretend that six months later, Vince called CC.

Let's pretend one year after meeting, Vince got on a plane to see CC.

Let's pretend that Vince and CC got married after a very, very short courtship because CC knew he was the one and she was tired of playing games. And, after all, he was dashingly handsome, had an accent and seemed to think CC was wonderful just as she was.

Let's pretend that although life with Vince was quite normal, CC is now 30 and entering the scariest time of her life; a phase we shall refer to as the "HD Window".

Let's pretend that in spite of everything that Crazy Camille has gone through and continues to face, she is still standing. She is somewhat crazed with the overwhelmingness that her short life has thrown her way. But she is still standing. She is standing crazy.

Let's pretend Camille is me.

Posting Recipe...
The recipe for this post pays homage to onions because clearly, an onion-centric recipe seems to make some logical sense:

Pickled Red Onions
1 1/2 pounds red onions, peeled, halved, cut into 1/8-inch-thick slices
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 cup fresh lime juice
1/2 cup distilled white vinegar
1 small habanero chile*

Toss first 3 ingredients in large glass bowl. Add juice and vinegar; press down to submerge onions. Cut 1/2-inch-long slit in narrow tip of chile and add to onion mixture. Top mixture with small plate to weigh down slightly. Cover; refrigerate overnight. Drain. DO AHEAD Can be made 1 week ahead. Keep refrigerated.

Eat on anything you dare.