Chain of Love

I am obsessive.

This is something I have always known about myself but probably wouldn't change even if I could.

Right now, I am totally obsessing and head over heels for - horror of horrors - a chain restaurant.

YIKES.

I frequent mom-and-pops and local joints all the time and can't stand "THE MAN" and the culture of suburban hell with a Best Buy-Olive Garden-Wal-Mart-McDonald's-Home Depot-Chili's-Kohl's-Applebee's-Lowe's-Costco-Starbucks-Border's-Mega Mall on every single crowded corner.

But there is an exception to my rule right now (aside from Target - I just can't help myself, I will always write love letters with hearts and stars and offers of my body to the Tar-jay).

My new obsession? Noodles & Company.

Maybe it's because I'm doing Weight Watchers and most of the N&C menu is WW friendly.

Maybe it's their cute website filled with broccoli trees in Penne Park .

Maybe I just heart the fact that today I had a tomato that was actually red, tender, juicy and didn't taste like pesticide on my crisp cucumber and romaine salad as part of my Bangkok Curry Trio. My lunch - for less than $8- was fantastic and made me moan in my seat with the way that the cool coconut flavor lightly accented the flash-seared crisp carrots and garlicky chicken. All for less calories and fat than a small box of beak nuggets and a coke from the hellish McGross.

Whatever it is that is so enchanting about Noodles, I may never know.

But I do know, Noodles & Company, that I am completely smitten with you and don't want to hide my affections any longer.

And the only chain I think of when I think of you is the invisible chain that you have firmly clasped around my heart.

Assistance, please?

I need an assistant.

There are way too many things going on right now and I think that the only way to help myself is to get an assistant to organize everything.

I'm going to start by giving two of my students some things to do to help me out.

Perhaps by the end of the week, I'll have minions.

Stumble you might fall

I hung up on myself.

Really, that is what it boils down to.

I stopped listening - slammed down the phone. And when I tried to dial back in, there wasn't a dial tone.

I just didn't want to hear the things that needed to be heard. I've been disconnected - out of my own loop of who I really think I am and who I want to be. So I gave up.

And I didn't think that was right for being in my 30's. Because you know, when you're 32 you should have every single thing figured out and know how to deal.

So I talked to Jodisattva. And she's been feeling the same way.

And I don't want to speak for her, but I feel a little more connected now that I know I'm not the only one out here on the other end of the telephone line. In fact, I'm willing to wager that there's a group of us standing in the middle of a forest on an alternate plane and we're all gripping the black handset of an old-style telephone, staring at a snaking cable that's sheared off not 5 feet from us. We're all yelling about not being tied to something. And in that space of panic, we're not willing to look around and realize that there are others stranded with us. That maybe we should shut up and collectively think about why we're in this space - and explore a little.

That being said, I'm ready to look around. Maybe take a little hike with my friend Jodisattva and figure out what this terrain is - and what we are going to do while we're here. Disconnected from where we think we should be. Unplugged from who we know we are.