On Poker Faces, Gooey Butter Cake and Enchantment
I used to pride myself on the fact that I didn’t have a tell. My eyes bright, my jaw taunt, my body language unreadable. I could love you to pieces or hate your guts and you would have no earthly idea. Truely. None. I was very good.
Until this last year in my thirties has given yet again another gift of transparency I am forced to wear on my face with no possibility to deny. When I am anxious, upset or excited- my cheeks blaze a tomato red. Not a sweet, creeping blush. Not a flushed-right-after a hot shower- look. But a blotchy crimson that looks like something Ms. Rachel’s constituants painted directly on my face and down my neck with haphard, wild abandon.
I have spent the better part of the year deeply embarrassed by this. Now, it simply feels like one less thing I have to withhold- which by default, means one less thing I have to hold. Another way to phrase it- I am letting go of appearing put together when I am not. Had it been a choice, I would have not have made it; so biology stepped in to save me from myself. When I am angry, sad, anxious or excited and happy YOU WILL KNOW. You can tell by simply looking at my face.
This feeling of having to, “cover-up” or “hide” true feelings are most likely vestiges of a childhood doctrine, a patriarchial system and a deep-seated desire to be viewed as a, “professional” which most assuredly translates into, “not letting on that you have any other aspect of your life outside of what you do for a living”. What a crock. Work is for work and home is for home may have worked in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s but not now- not when the numbers of work from home folks TRIPLED between 2019 and 2021. This is a new dawn, a new day, and people have full lives that they don’t want to be forced to hide anymore.
Not everyone has been given the gift of the red-cheeked tell, so the rest of you will just have to make the hard choice on your own whether or not to be vulnerable, or keep playing the game.
Now, on to the delicious things that have flavored my week:
Deb Perelman’s St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake is my husband’s favorite dessert that I make. This says something, because he doesn’t really like dessert. But he’s really on to something because the sweet/slightly salty/soft/crisp/chewy thing it’s got going on is unparalleled in taste and texture. I wish I could make it once a week- it’s that delightful. ( If you want to, here it is:https://smittenkitchen.com/2010/03/st-louis-gooey-butter-cake/) Alas, I didn’t really have time this week so I bought this instead:
2. I actually feel embarrassed admitting that my first exposure to the Korean chili paste Gochujang was the Trader Joe’s version. Is this cultural appropriation? Capitalism at its finest? Is it wrong to admit that I find it delicious? Especially when blurred in a food processor with butter to spread on roasted salmon and bok choy? I just don’t know. Until I figure it out, I’m going to keep using it- if you have a brand you prefer, let me know.
3. I don’t wear a lot of makeup. I’m not a skincare freak. But I will tell you this: Supergoop’s Glowscreen is 100 percent worth all the hype. The last time I wore it my therapist told me I was looking much more rested. We all know what a miracle that must be. https://supergoop.com/products/glowscreen-spf-40?variant=40248185651298&gclid=CjwKCAjw_MqgBhAGEiwAnYOAepQiwq8yQcDr5E-ssVwfkthAX482auiYip_1yuggj7h-JIDn9beUGhoCb-0QAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds
4. Is it safe to admit that I have always hated skinny jeans? Seeing the spring lines full of wide legs has given my 90’s heart so much inexplicable joy. If only Delia’s would make a comeback for middle-aged moms, life would be complete. If you know, you know.
5. I finished Beth Moore’s memoir and watched, “Women Talking” in the span of two weeks. The thread of sexual abuse in religious circles isn’t new to those of us who witnessed it, heard the stories, or experienced it ourselves. But how empowering it was to be a witness to women who have long been silenced by oppressive systems call it out, and forge a new way. I will always, always stand in awe of the strength women possess. Both stories will stay with me for a while.
Alright, friends. There will be some changes coming and we’re just going to roll with them as they do, but one thing does not change here- we are unafraid to face what we once believed and eat our words about it in a community who would never judge you. To make it more palatable, we try our best to make it delicious.
If you have a story about eating your words, I’d love to hear it.
With love,
Jenny