Babette's Feast

When I was in my last year of University I had one class called The Sociology of Media ... or something like that.  Our major assignment for that class was to write a paper about "the media" and its "sociological influences".  Sigh.  Broad enough topic for you?  The Teacher (whom I had little respect for) seemed to think that the only form of "media" worth discussing were television shows.  No discussions about print publications or the 'newest fad' called "the internet".  Instead she prattled on about fictional characters, in fictional towns, in fictional times.  So the assignment sounds easy enough right?  Wrong. 

The problem?

I had one television channel.

One.

The local channel.

As a struggling student, working nearly 40 hours a week and attending Uni full-time my girlfriends that I lived with and I decided that we didn't need cable television. 

Need a break from studying?  Why not head into the living room, turn on 'the channel' and see if 'the show' that was on interested you.  It rarely did.  Just get home from a rough day of folding jeans at the store?  Why not turn on 'the channel' and watch the local politicians debate local issues?  *yawn*  Can't decide whether to listen to music or watch TV while preparing dinner?  Why not turn on 'the channel' and see if the local news broadcast person happens to be visiting a local restaurant ... they never did.

“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him … the people who give you their food give you their heart.” ~ Cesar Chavez

ShortStack and Sarina ... circa Grade Six

And if those friends aren't EXACTLY in your area code, well, perhaps a miraculous Vegan-Food-Swap-Angel can help bring two long-lost friends together.  The story is this, dear readers ...

In a land fah-fah-away, there were two young girls ... I should clarify, the land was not the North Pole, despite the photo to the left ... I digress ...

Sarina and I met in Grade Four - we became instant friends and spent many an afternoon giggling, drawing (she was MUCH better than me ... like ... I thought she would become a world famous artist - move over Van Gogh, here comes Sarina!), playing in the pool and if we'd done all our homework her Mom would sometimes let us play on their computer.  That was MEGA exciting 'cause they had COMPUTER GAMES ... think 'black screen with rudimentary white characters that shot out single bullets' ... we're talking PRE-Tetris-awesome'ness ...

As time passed, as it has a habit of doing, we drifted apart.  By mid-Junior high, we didn't really see much of each other ... we went our separate ways ... and after high school we lost touch entirely.

Until ... a few weeks ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Sarina contacted me after reading one of my posts about the Vegan Food Swap.  After some generally hilarious backing and forthing on emails, we were teamed up for the August food swap.  And after discovering we lived fairly close to one another ... we decided ... to meet. <duhn-duhn-duhnnnnn>

“(S)He was swimming in a sea of other people’s expectations. Men had drowned in seas like that.” ~Robert Jordan, New Springs

Perhaps, a tad dramatic, I admit.  But it's been a solid month of non-stop-go-go-go, and the cold-sore on my face means that I've hit a wall.  Although, judging by the size of this cold sore, it looks as though a wall hit me.  In a self-induced-pity-party the other night while doing dishes and making lunches for the next day, I exclaimed with a great sigh "HEAVEN HELP ME I NEED A BREAK!!!"  Then the phone rang.  There was a great discussion.  Then I got all excited about the possibility of a new business opportunity.  My mind began to race.  World domination was within my grasp!  (Or that's what it felt like ...) And when I told DH of my new plans, (a mere 10 minutes after my great exclamation of needing a break) he smiled, nodded his head and without even uttering a word, I knew ... that I was ... quite possibly ... the master of my own demise.  Were it not seconds ago that I believed the weight of the world was in fact resting solely on my shoulders?  The fear that if I stopped to catch my breath ... life as we know it would ACTUALLY come to a grinding halt!  Seas would churn.  Volcano's would begin to rumble.  Nickelback would release another album (snicker-snicker) ...

Brown paper packages, tied up with string ...

Getting mail.  By far - one of the best things ever.  I'm not talking about the over-priced Hydro bill (boo-hiss and what the heck is a 'debt retirement charge' anyways?), or the phone bill (why do we even HAVE a landline anymore?), or even what appears to be a genuine letter ... only to find out that it's a computer-generated-fake-signature letter from your local government representative (can you hear it hitting the side of the recycle bin?).

No friends, I'm talking about "real mail" ... "fun mail" ... like birthday cards from your grandma that have newspaper clippings stuffed inside ... like a postcard from your best friend who still sends you postcards when she's on holiday because she knows how much you love them ... and then ... there's the mother-load-of-awesome'ness ... a brown paper package ... too big to fit in the mailbox ... my heart skips a beat ...

In February, I signed up for a "Vegan Food Swap" - organized by the devilishly clever MeShell In Your City.  She's a Torontonian and a Vegan ... and in my opinion one of the coolest people in the universe for organizing this food swap.  Think "penpal that sends you food".  I know ... I know ... how did you exist so long without knowing about this?  While not a vegan (DH is the son of a butcher, so really, we're a meat-and-potatoes couple), I am a slave to veggies and totally curious about the vegan-lifestyle ... and one of my girlfriends has been a vegan for well over a year and this lady GLOWS, so there's gotta be something to it ... I digress ...

I signed-up for the food swap, not really knowing what to expect - but that was half-the fun ... the other half ... well to be perfectly honest, was panic.  What would I (the non-vegan) be able to send a REAL vegan that wasn't "done before"?  The last thing I wanted was for my new foodie-penpal to open their box and think "wow ... that sucks".   While I stewed about this potential disaster, I received my first email from MeShell ... my first vegan-foodie-penpal was Caroline - over at the Vegan Hammock.  I DASHED to my most fav. 100 mile market and began my hunt for 'vegan things' ...

A few days later, I arrived home to find THIS waiting for me on our messy kitchen table ...