"There are notes between notes, you know." -- Sarah Vaughan

Friday, February 27, 2009

Flush the inbox

After I read (and respond to) email messages, I either delete them or file them away in a folder. I *hate* for a whole bunch of email to be all piled up in my inbox and I don't feel the need to keep every piece of correspondence people send me.

Mr. SingLikeSassy has never deleted an email. Not ever. His inbox has about 8 million emails in it. But, he also doesn't respond to email. And doesn't read 98 percent of the email he receives. I have to put some variation of "!!!READ THIS!!! VERY VERY IMPORTANT!!! in the subjectline to get him to open MY email messages and I'm married to him! And believe me, even with that included in the subjectline it still does not guarantee a response. I can count on one hand how many emails he has sent me.

What's your email style? Do you keep everything, reply to everyone, purge, hoard?

Thursday, February 26, 2009

A Mr. SingLikeSassy Moment

Is there any kind of legislation the government could enact that would encourage parents to take a more active role in the education of their children?

Monday, February 23, 2009

My little brother

I realize that in my last post I mentioned my brother's "situation" but I have never explained what his "situation" is, exactly.

My brother has been living in a homeless shelter for almost a year. Why? Well the short answer is my parents put him out. And it stuck this time.

Now, before you get all outraged and judgmental, know that my brother is 32 (he'll be 33 in April -- our birthdays are 7 days apart) -- and he's not on drugs, not special needs, not selling drugs or stealing or doing anything criminal (that we know of), no criminal record, has some college under his belt and is employed.

Up until my last year when my parents joined forces and put him out of my mom's house, he had spent the past 30-some years manipulating them because they dared get divorced when he was a kid and deprived him of a perfect nuclear family. You know the perfect loving family everyone else had/has except for him. Umhm, that one.

All of these years he has lived in my mom's house, except for the time he was away at college and one brief period where my mom put him out for about two months then panicked and let him come back home. He lived on our Granny's couch during those months.

In any case, he lived in the basement of the house we grew up in rent-free and never took out the trash, cleaned up, cut the grass or did anything. He never asked what the bills were, how much they were or offered up money. I know this not because my mother told me, but because I could SEE it and because, when I asked him if he did any of those things, he said, "nope" and shrugged his shoulders.

Of course, he didn't have to go from my mom's basement to a homeless shelter, that was his own doing. She told him during the summer of 2007 that he had until March 1, 2008 to find new lodgings. I asked him about it when he came up for my wedding in September 2007 and he was real nonchalant. I mentioned it again at Christmas that year and he ignored me. I decided to leave it alone cause I had a place to live, TWO places to live, in fact, so if he didn't care, I didn't either.

It's obvious now that he made no plans, saved no money and had nowhere to go when the deadline arrived. I think that after all the years of no one ever showing him fat meat was greasy, he didn't believe my mom would put him out and that my dad would support her in that decision.

But, March 1, 2008 came and she changed her locks and moved on. My dad was there in case some foolishness snapped off but, nothing happened. It was hard for my mom to make and stick to the decision. No matter how old my brother is, he is still her baby. But the 'rents had finally come to see that their behavior was enabling him and that it was long past time to throw him into the water and pray he swam rather than sank. She also stopped paying his car insurance (she let it slip that she had been paying it) and my dad stopped sending him money every month (something *he* let slip that he was doing).

We found out he was living in the homeless shelter when I called him on March 2, 2008 and said, hey, I know you're just getting started and since we've decided to live in Mr. SLS's house, we don't need a good bit of the furniture in mine. You are welcome to have anything you want, dishes, appliances, furniture -- whatever you need to get yourself set up -- you just have to come get it. He said, I don't have an apartment, I said, oh and asked "Where are you living then?" He said, "I'm at the homeless shelter right now." I said, well, I'm not selling the house immediately, so I'll hold on to my stuff and once you get a place, call me and we'll work it out. He said, OK and we got off the phone.

I told my mom and she cried but she remained steadfast about him not returning to live under her roof. My dad said nothing, just gave an exasperated sigh when I told him, then changed the subject.

So, here it is almost a year later and he is *still* in the shelter. He comes around to take my mom's trash out now and does little things around the house. Grandma and Granny have worn their voices out trying to make my parents feel guilty about it, but my parents seem to have steeled themselves against it this time.

It used to make my stomach hurt when I thought about it, but I decided that if he wasn't willing to do whatever he needed to do to get out of the shelter, I shouldn't feel bad about it.

Sigh.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Calling in the cavalry

All these months later and all that junk I talked I haven't moved completely out of my house yet. Well, I have done some things. I sold a few pieces of furniture on Craigslist, but the heavy lifting has not begun.

Last night I remembered how hard it was for Mr. SLS to figure out where to start in clearing his junk out to make room for me which meant I had to do it for him. I think I'm going to need that same kind of help to tackle getting the stuff out of my house.

That's where Mama SLS and Auntie SLS come in. I'm going to fly them up here for a weekend and we're going to go at it. They moved me in there and now I need them to help me move out. Between them and me and Mr. SLS we should be able to work it out.

But I so wish my brother would have taken me up on my offer to take my things (I told him he could have anything he wanted in the house, but he had to come get them), as there was enough there to furnish an apartment and he needs the help. However, he is who he is and his situation is what it is, so there ya go.

In any case, I have taken the first major step to get it done.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Friday, February 20, 2009

From Carolyn Hax

NOTE: THIS IS NOT MY SITUATION! I SAW THIS ON CAROLYN HAX AND THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A GOOD QUESTION TO THROW OUT TO THE BLOGGERATI.

What would you do in this situation?

Need help -- soon!: I recently got married to a wonderful guy who loves and cares about his family (one of his best qualities).

However, his very toxic sister (drama-queen and financial leech) wishes to move in with us! We JUST got married, and we're trying to start a family -- we want this to be "our" time.

My wonderful husband doesn't feel like he can say no, because she had depression, and her only other option is to move in with my in-laws... in some retirement community in Arizona, where she would "have no life."

I've tried to explain to my husband, that if she moves in with us, we would have no privacy, and he would have to become her "dad" instead of her adored big brother, as she has no common sense, and acts like she's a horny 16-year-old, instead of a 36-year-old. But my husband says that the option would be "condemning" her to not having a social life (not that she has one now...she does not have a single friend nor close acquaintance, due to her toxic personality).

Any advice on what I can say to convince him? I realize due to her "issues", she will -eventually- be living with us -- but I was hoping that would be after we had kids, and had time to ourselves first. I'm ready to be the mom of a baby... but not of a 36-year-old who thinks she's still a teenager!

Carolyn Hax: Since when is it a brother's responsibility--much less a sister-in-law's--to ensure that a grown sibling has a social life?

I can't promise it will "convince" anybody, but you do need to shoot down his rationale: -He- isn't condemning her to not having a social life, she has done that to herself. By caving, though, he would be condemning you to a life without privacy.

Read the full online chat.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Remember I told you I liked all kinds of music?

(except Soca. I do NOT like soca music). Anyways, here's what's playing in my head today. Enjoy!

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Every now and again you read something...

And it makes you wanna just beat a mofo about the head.

Check out this post by Live It, Love It.

Good grief.

NYT: Picture Emerging on Genetic Risks of IVF

This NY Times story is depressing me.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Babymaking on hold 'til summer

I went to my primary care physician last week (I hadn't been to see him in about three years...he was not pleased, but damn, I've had all number of docs poking at me, I didn't feel I needed another one in the mix) and it turns out I've worried, fretted and stressed myself so much about this babymaking situ I've created another health problem that has to be addressed before I can do my next cycle of IVF.

He and my RE are both in agreement that I should focus on getting this other thing right and then begin my next cycle.

Initially *that* was stressful, too, but after talking to Mr. SLS and Mama SLS I've calmed down a bit and realized that I have to take better care of myself not just for babymaking but for the people I love who are already HERE, living and breathing.

My RE did say she wants to go ahead and do a mock transfer so she can see what the deal is with my fibroids as they were a problem last time when they were trying to retrieve my eggs.

I have to say, after all this, my child better become president or do something really remarkable, dammit. ::nervously gnawing nails down to nubs::

Monday, February 16, 2009

What do we teach the children?

This post from THE INTERSECTION OF MADNESS AND REALITY about the Chris Brown/Rihanna imbroglio was one I thought I should pass along.
I didn't really wanna write or speak upon the Chris Brown "alleged" beatdown on Rhianna. But I have two teenage daughters so I can't help it; its all they've been talking about. As a matter of fact, the 14yr old who is often quite distant and in her own teenage world, came to me last night after I picked her up from the beauty shop, and it was the first topic out of her mouth for discussion.
When I was 21 I went to my (cheatin' azz all the time) boyfriend's house to get something and he left for a few minutes to go to the store. This girl I suspected he had been stepping out on me with called and I answered the phone and hung up on her and then sat there steaming and talking myself up to craziness until he came back.

When he came in the door it was ON. I was screaming and hollerin' and fighting and he was trying to stop me and was pushing me away and we somehow ended up in the kitchen near the stove so I grabbed the teapot off the stove and started beating him in the head with it water splashing everywhere then I bit him in the arm and held on for dear life. WHAT IF HE HAD HIT ME BACK?

We were so loud the neighbor came over to see if I was OK, did I need the police or other assistance. I knocked some more stuff down and left. He still has my teeth marks in his arm. WHAT IF HE HAD HIT ME BACK?

Later we laughed about this, but what if he had hit me back? He was more than a foot taller and weighed at least 100 pounds more than me. WHAT IF HE HAD HIT ME BACK?

I was wrong -- I knew he was cheating all along, I should have just broken up with him -- but I let emotions and young dumbness get the best of me. WHAT IF HE HAD HIT ME BACK?

But I like what RIPPA's post says and what he plans to teach his daughters. Check it out.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Regrets and do overs?

I thought this was an interesting post from blogger 30 Something and it continues a conversation I've been having with some friends about dating and relationships.

Sometimes we hold out for something that's not there. And where does that get us? Old and alone.

Think about it. What if you had married your high school or college sweetheart? What would your life be like now? Or what if you had stayed with the nice guy you blew off?

I am married to the right man. Not one man I dated before meeting Mr. SLS was anyone I should have been married to, so I have no regrets.

But it's easy for me to say that while all happily boo'd up. If I were single, would I be rethinking and re-evaluating my past relationships and wondering if there were missed opportunities? Hell yeah.

However, the person I was in those relationships and the experiences I had are what led me to where I am right now and the person I am with today.

I guess what I'm trying to say is you can't turn back the hands of time, so focus instead on today. Whatever cancelled that brotha or sista out, they are gone. But there's a world of new folks out there to meet.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

A Valentine's day confession

I hope everyone who cares is having a wonderful Valentine's Day. I'm sitting here tripping about how little it means to me now. I used to be one of those people who on Valentine's Day felt like everyone around them had someone to love them but me because I didn't have flowers, candy and some grand surprise date with a beau. (My daddy would always send me flowers when I was single, which was nice, but not the same as getting them from say, Idris Elba. teehee).

I dreamed that one day I would have the love of my life and I would get wonderful romantic Valentine's day gifts and celebrations and all the women who knew me would be pea green with envy!

Then I met Mr. SingLikeSassy and started getting "I love you" flowers because it was Tuesday. Or an "I love you" gift because you looked so hawt last night in those jeans. Or an "I love you" trip because you mentioned you had never been before.

Best gift of all is an "I love you" with a hug and a kiss.

That's when I realized that I liked being loved everyday so much more than being loved just on Valentine's Day.

In any case, Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Friday, February 13, 2009

Sigh....

I love that my mama is so social and dates a lot and is out most Friday and Saturday nights and takes weekend trips and all of that...but I *really* need for her to be at home right now.

Music playing in my head today

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Facing the inevitable...

In the last 24 hours both of my parents have chided me about not calling my grandmothers more frequently. Now, I have talked to them recently (in the past month) but not as often as I should have considering they are both in their 80s (one is 81, the other is 87) and for one of them, I am one of two grandchildren and her only granddaughter.

But, it's hard. It's not that I don't want to talk to them (though lawd knows they ramble on about folks I don't know, places I ain't been etc. and there is always the inevitable, "when will I get some more grandbabies?" comment), but I get a funny feeling in my stomach whenever I talk to them because I'm scared they will die soon. You see, I've managed to live all of these years and lose very few people.

One grandfather died when I was 7 and that was sad because he picked me up from school everyday and didn't tell Grandma when I broke her watch by winding it too much.

My other grandfather died when I was 15 and that was sad because Granddaddy always told me stories about when he was young, made me slingshots, listened to baseball on a transistor radio, made me blackberry cobblers and shared his fig newtons with me even when Granny said I had had enough sweets.

My great-grandmother died when I was 19 and in college. It was a few weeks after we had a big mother's day bash for her and we have a video of that celebration that I watch sometimes.

And, that's it.

As a result, just *thinking* about losing my Granny and Grandma makes me feel nauseaous. And it makes it hard to call cause if I don't call I don't have to hear how old they are and how sick they are (sometimes) or think about them dying.

If I don't call, then she's always my Granny who took me out to lunch at fancy restaurants and let me play dress up in her clothes and laughed when I sprayed all the perfume out of her atomizers while coloring my face darn near clown white using her powder puff sitting at her dressing table.

If I don't call, then she's always my Grandma who showed me how to cut and cook collard greens and how to make a dollar snap like a whip and how to wash clothes and who told me she was so proud of me because I had done so much stuff, seen so many places she would never do or see.

I'm gonna call. Maybe not tonight. But I'll call. Probably this weekend. I will. I promise.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Tuesdays With Moron

This is my guilty lunchtime pleasure: Chatalogical Humor

What's your take on tattoos?

I wish this trend of drawing all over your body would end. I would chalk it up to me being too old, except, I had this same stance back in college when people were getting tattoos. So maybe it's just that I am not, and have never been, hip or trendy.

Do you have tattoos? What made you get them? Are they visible? Do you regret getting them? Do you plan to get more?

Monday, February 9, 2009

Hm. Maybe we need to save our coins...

According to a contributor to The New York Times op-ed page, having a kid may ruin your marriage.

More than 25 separate studies have established that marital quality drops, often quite steeply, after the transition to parenthood. And forget the “empty nest” syndrome: when the children leave home, couples report an increase in marital happiness.
-- Till Children Do Us Part, Sunday, Feb. 4, 2009

I must admit, one of my greatest fears -- and this was discussed in our pre-marital counseling -- is that we would have kids and our relationship would be neglected and suffer.

I've tried to pay attention to what my friends do to see how they manage.

One is very much "children are seen and not heard." She loves her kids but does not dote on them. She and her husband travel without the children and aren't of a mind that every event or activity needs to be child-friendly. Her children, ages 4 and 2, are pretty independent in terms of amusing themselves and not vying for their mom's attention all of the time. Is her marriage better/happy? Hard to tell because they weren't necessarily madly in love before the kids arrived. But they definitely seem to do more as a couple.

My other friend is very much an "our children are our world" person. From her perspective she chose to have children and her first obligation is to them, which means they get her attention first. Their activities and weekends are planned around the children, ages 4 and almost 2. Her marriage seems pretty solid, but they have hit some rough patches over distribution of responsibility as it relates to their household and children.

Those methods work for those marriages, but neither one of those styles is the best fit for Mr. SLS and me. I personally think I would go crazy if I focused my whole life around the kids and didn't have regular grown up time. I had parents who partied, went out on dates regularly and laughed a lot (even as they fought a lot) so I understood that my parents loved me and took care of me, but it wasn't about me (or my brother) all of the time. That said, I don't know that I want to go the old school route my other friend has taken, either. It feels wrong.

But all this is angels dancing on the head of a pin conversation. We have to get the baby first.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Lost wallet, mommy car

Mr. SingLikeSassy's wallet is missing. Now, I am very observant. Maybe it's the experience as a reporter, maybe I'm just nosey, but I generally see everything.

Anyway, Mr. SLS counts on me to remember where he puts his keys, wallet, iPods, cell phone. And normally I do. Yesterday when he was looking for his keys, cell, iPods and wallet I pulled the first three out of his hat that was underneath the throw on the sofa (I have no idea how I knew they were there, I told you I see all).

However, I was no help with the wallet. He looked high and low and in the car and even went back to the last place he had seen it the night before and it wasn't there. I say it never came into the house because I would know where it was if it had.

Now, aside from the general need to have his money and ID (license and military), he was trying to get out of the house so he could renew the registration on his car, something he waited until the.very.last.minute to do despite my urging him to get on it. So no wallet, no license and an about to be expired vehicle registration. Hm.

Which means as I sat in the hairdresser's chair and raced to see Idris and the Karma he was at home. Looking. And looking. And looking, looking, looking.

I called him to come meet me and look at the pretty cars and he said: "No, I'll just hang around here. I feel like a non-person! I have no ID, no money, no ATM card. Nothing." I ignored all of that, told him to go online and try to renew the registration and then come on downtown to meet me. I would be his human ID.

Once he got there, we spent time examining what will likely be my mommy car, the Mini Clubman:


We also took a gander at the next version of my car, the Nissan 370Z (I own the roadster):


And I made him spend some time with the car I used to have and still love, the VW Beetle, so he could appreciate it:

Saturday, February 7, 2009

I need a new camera!!

UGH! Everything is blurry. But anyways, here's my boo-ness Idris:

Now, I'll admit, I occasionally encounter some high profile actors, singers and musicians because of work and Mr. SLS. As a result, I've trained myself to be cool. Couldn't do it for Idris. This is pretty much the first time since Will Downing held my hand and sang a couple of words to me at a concert a few years back that I got all extra with the groupie behavior. The combination of that tall glass of iced tea and the British accent just does something to me. WHOOWHEE. It was cool to see him in person because he seemed even more charismatic and handsome than I had imagined.

On to my other mad crush right now, the Fisker Karma. I didn't take photos of the Tesla cause in person it wasn't as impressive as I felt it should be. The Karma, on the other hand, was damn near the best thing since cooked food. It looks like a luxury car and not a toy. They had a sedan and a coupe convertible on display. People could order them on site, as well, though delivery isn't until next year, I think. We won't be getting an electric car anytime soon, however, as we have nowhere to plug it up.

As good as Idris Elba looks on screen...

Multiply that by 10 million in person ::swoooooon::

On to the Tesla and Karma!

--
Sent from my mobile device

Friday, February 6, 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

It's the little things...

Our insurance snafu got worked out and now we can move ahead with our next IVF cycle. I am so happy about this I could cry. Everyday that passed I was envisioning my eggs rotting and my body aging. There's so much that has to align to make this work and timing is so critical.

That's why the lady with the 8 babies is just a puzzlement to me. Not that I wanted to, but my reproductive endocrinologist was pretty clear that she wasn't transferring a bunch of embryos/blastocysts into me. She didn't outright say it was unethical but it seemed clear that's why she wouldn't do it.

In any case, I'm happy that one barrier has been removed. Onward and upward!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

**Spotlight Question**

Should there be extra penalties for hate crimes?

Senator hopes to cover homeless in hate crime laws, Examiner.com (Feb. 4, 2009)

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

My best friend got laid off today

SHE IS 8 MONTHS PREGNANT. I'm sitting here now trying to figure out what we can cut back that we haven't already so I can stack up some extra money to help if it comes to that. I know she has money saved up, her significant other is a hardworking stand up guy, and she owns various real estate properties from which she gets some income, but still, she's about to have a baby in a few weeks and ish could get shaky real quick.

I have to admit, she sounded calm, but *I* am scared as hell for her. SHE IS 8 MONTHS PREGNANT.

I'm really busy right now...

Here's something to keep you entertained in the interim. They just popped up on my iPod playlist. For some reason when I was a kid, I was fascinated with these two songs, possibly because my aunt listened to them all of the time and I wanted to be just like her (backstory: she's 10 years older than me and hated me cause Grandma would not let her leave the house without me. She would tell me to roll my window down and stick my head out of it while she and her friends smoked weed and talked about boys. LOL!).



Monday, February 2, 2009

Infertile v. childfree by choice

I keep going back to read this post and this post on CreoleinDC's blog.

This time a year ago I was doing tests readying for my first IVF cycle and wondered why women did cycle after cycle after cycle trying to have a baby going into debt and not just choosing to adopt and I was SO certain we would not do more than the one cycle and would not spend a whole bunch of money in a quest to have a baby and God's will and all that...

What a difference a year makes. I *get* it now. Actually I started to get it before now, when I was sitting in the doc's office and she said "less than a 1 percent chance of conceiving naturally." I said nothing from that point on. Mr. SLS wrapped up the meeting and we left. I was in a daze. I knew we would have trouble and need help -- hell we were fasttracked to IVF w/ICSI -- and Mr. SLS had been clear about his medical issues, but a part of me still believed that we would go to bed one night, have some fun, the rabbit would die six weeks later and a kid would pop of out of my hinter regions a few months later.

No maam. That's what the prognosis meant. No. Maam.

When I read the posts for the women who *know* they don't want to have kids, I wish I could be that sure. Crazily enough, I think if I weren't married, I would likely be fine. I wasn't doing single momhood. I need help.

But looking into Mr. SLS's brown marbles and snuggling up to him...well, it makes me want our twosome to be a threesome. And the thing is, the more we grow as a couple, the more the urge grows. I wasn't anticipating that.

Anyway, there's hope yet. We have at least one more IVF cycle ahead of us. Control those things you can control, my daddy says. I'm trying.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Cake bakery

My grandma (my mom's mom) doesn't enjoy cooking, but she is good at it. She cooks because she was raised in a household where there were specific roles for women. Grandma was one of 16 children -- 8 girls and 8 boys (two sets of twins) -- and the boys worked in the field, but the girls cooked, sewed, tended garden, cleaned, did laundry, took care of the younger children.

Grandma's food is good and simple. No extra sauces. No bells and whistles. She isn't spinning the spice rack or flipping through a cookbook when she prepares meals, all she uses is salt and pepper and skills/recipes she learned from my great-grandmother (who, at 85, was still getting up at 5 a.m. and making biscuits from scratch in time for breakfast). Grandma (and great-Grandma) passed on those skills and lessons to me, though some things, such as baking bread and making biscuits, I never mastered.

I loved Farmer's Market day because all my aunts and cousins and I would help Grandma snap beans, cut up greens and stuff to can or put in the freezer for the winter.

In all my 30-some years I can count on one hand when Grandma baked a cake. She would make a peach cobbler, fruit turnovers or a pie in a minute, but rarely did she bake a cake. So, when Grandma baked a cake, it was like Juneteenth day for our family. People would call folks they hadn't spoken to or seen in years to say, "mama/auntie/sister/cousin/grandma made a cake!" and everyone would pile in to Grandma's kitchen to get a sliver of this cake.

I asked Grandma once why she didn't bake cakes and she said she didn't like cake that much. And, on reflection, I don't like cake either. Well, I like a couple of specific cakes but I don't much care for very sweet or very fancy cakes or cakes with hunks of stuff in/on them. Ew.

As much time as I spent with Grandma learning how to cook (these lessons were partly for survival as my mama can not cook, at all, God bless her), I spent even more time with my Granny (my dad's mom) learning how to bake and entertain. Now *this* is a woman who loved to cook.

It was like yin and yang. Granny used spices and cookbooks and swapped recipes and made fancy pastries and things like Martha Stewart. If Better Homes and Garden or Southern Living had a spread, Granny was gonna duplicate it. She's the reason I've had formal china, silverware and serveware since my early 20s. She's the reason I obsess about tablescapes and centerpieces and cloth napkins.

Don't get me wrong, Granny knew how to make the basics, too. She and Grandaddy had a huge garden so produce was always fresh in her house. And sometimes the protein was, too, as every Saturday morning Grandaddy would go fishing and he'd bring back his catch, Granny would clean it and we would eat it at breakfast or for dinner that day. And yes, I've eaten a chicken at dinner that was walking around the pen earlier that same day.

Now that she's blind (legally blind, but not completely blind) she doesn't cook much anymore, though she does tell me what to do over the phone and shares her time-tested recipes with me.

It's these skills/lessons/recipes that I bring to the kitchen and they are greatly appreciated by Mr. SLS. His mom was busy singing/performing and cooking wasn't something she really did, so he learned to survive on canned soup, cereal and frozen pot pies. Now when he wants some soup, I pull out that soup bone I saved from the roast we had the other week and the Farmer's Market veggies I blanched and put up. Throw in some garlic and some fresh herbs (<--he grows these because I can even kill this stuff!) and voila! soup. When he wants a pot pie, I make him a pot pie.

That's why getting that KitchenAid stand mixer for Christmas was the best thing EVAH! To some it may have seemed unromantic, but I have long wanted one and just made do with my hand mixer because I didn't bake enough, I felt, to justify the cost.

But all this leads me to ask: Who taught you how to cook? Do you enjoy it? Why or why not? For those who do enjoy it, what's your signature dish?