This post is by the baker boyfriend, Charlie.
Sometimes folks will pretend like things are harder than they are.
My friend Hank, for example, used to blow these really pretty pieces of glass. I’d ask him how he did it and he’d get all cagey and aloof. And when he did talk about it he’d always use obscure hobbyist terminology, and grin a little like the cat who ate the canary.
The world of french cooking and pastry is kind of secretive like that, too.
And why, as Einstein said, there is no “preferred point of view” in the universe.
Sing it, Augusten, SING. IT.
(Yes, I’m being all fangirl-y today, shut up.)
Sometimes – rarely – you finish reading a book, and immediately want to buy up several hundred copies and give it to everyone you know.
People? This is one of those books.
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Through The Fire is a series of reader submissions. It offers people a safe, anonymous place to tell their personal stories of separation and divorce, with the intention of fostering empathy and compassion around the shared experience of having a marriage fail. If you would like to submit an original story to this series, click here. Today’s guest post is by an anonymous reader.
I always find myself disgruntled about the fact that I am divorced when I’m asked to fill out forms that have these choices:
Married – Single – Divorced – Separated
Because, how is that relevant to my impending root canal? Now the medical receptionist gets to judge the fact that I am divorced now too…I check all of the boxes – I have been all of the things. I follow the check all that apply way of life.
That lovely September day I didn’t think that I’d be checking that box – as I unwrapped presents from Crate & Barrel and picked out the trio of green toned hydrangea for my bouquet I didn’t think it would happen. And yet, it happened.
