Another National Chicken Month has come and gone. I know, it’s sad really.
But not really.
Because I for one am so over chicken. Not so much the food, but the ‘tude.
I’m sick to death of being chicken shit. Scared of silly things.
This occurred to me the other day when talking to a friend about a girl he’s seeing. A girl who is in her mid twenties. He asked me what I thought she was thinking about something. And just thinking back to this time in my life, which honestly seems like yesterday but really was almost a decade ago (yes, I’m 35), I realized I have no idea what she’s thinking. Because I don’t think the same way I did at 26. At all. Thank God.
Because when I was 26 I had it all together. I lived in a fancy house with fancy stuff and drove to fancy work in a fancy car. It was all eyerollingly perfect. Perfectly obnoxious. I looked good. But I had no confidence. And I was freaking scared to death.
In fact, when I think on my 26-year-old self, I can’t even believe it was me. It’s like a book I read or a movie I saw with a leading character, who was somewhat interesting and endearing, but frankly, sad. In a sad way. And in a pathetic way.
Because at 26, I was scared of being myself. Thinking my own thoughts. Making my own decisions. Speaking my own mind. And disappointing anyone. I was completely chicken.
Today, I’m so much more brave and grounded. In reality. And otherwise. I gladly gave up the fancy for the fantastic. To grow. To be assured, confident, resolved, comfortable, happy. All of it. And so much more.
But in some ways, ignorance is bliss. Then, I fretted about stuff I frankly don’t give a crap about now, to the degree I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. But today, I fear different things. I fear things for baby Hurricane. I fear that he’ll never have a sibling. I fear that sometimes I’m not sure I want him to. I fear for people’s health. I fear for highway accidents. I fear we value celebrity more than education. I fear extremists. I fear for our country. I fear. And I fear. And I hate it. Because I’m sick of it.
And I’m over it.
I’m not saying I have any more solutions, guarantees or resolutions for any of it. But I’m resoved to not be so effing scared anymore. Because what the heck good does that do?
So, I’m taking the fear-not to the next level.
For starters, I’m celebrating the last day of National Chicken Month at the beach with my boys. Fearlessly. Fearlessly in a bikini. And I’m declaring October the month of the brave. And the month of pumpkins.
Enjoy the last chicken recipe. Some chicken soup for your fearless soul.
(Or Chicken Soup for the Seoul, as we like to call it around here)
From Cooking Light
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 tablespoon bottled minced garlic
1 tablespoon bottled grated ginger
2 stalks fresh lemongrass, peeled
2 cups water
2 (14-ounce) cans fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
1 pound chicken breast tenders, cut into bite-sized pieces
4 ounces uncooked angel hair pasta
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 green onions, thinly sliced
1 red chile pepper, finely chopped