B.R.I.E. I am naming this blog after my old love. Cheese. Truth be told, even if this blog may seem cheesy it isn’t about cheese at all. Rather, having a clearer understanding of things.

You see B.R.I.E stands for ‘Bringing rationality back into the equation’.

This was a phrase given to me by a dear friend of mine, Ms. Anita, at lunch one day at the Organic Kitchen in the Village. Between mouthfuls of steamed vegetables we did what most women like to do; discuss how we would abolish any form of corruption within society and the lack of evolution in some human beings. Now you can’t discuss these matters without mentioning ‘the crazies’.

This topic came about as we asked ourselves, why as of yet we hadn’t settled down to play a round of ‘marriage bliss’ or ‘it’s your turn to change the baby’s nappy’? We were both intelligent, driven women of wit. Not to mention foxy ladies. But we both new the answer. We would never settle.

Ms. A had found love but another love had found him first. And he was never willing to take the ultimate plunge for her. As for me, I had found it back in London but often felt it could be unrequited and had given up crying tears of ‘what if’s’.

If Ms. A and I wanted to settle then it would be easy. Anyone can ‘shack‘ up with another person and convince themselves it’s love. Take Ms. A’s neighbour for example- the wealthy divorcee. Her story goes something like this; one day having met with a client Ms. A returned to her apartment building. Upon exiting the elevator she saw what appeared to be a homeless man in the hallway. Now this was an uncommon occurrence given she lived in a manned building. She hurried into her apartment to phone security and put her mind at ease. A few days later the same incident took place. It wasn’t until one day she arrived home, exited her elevator to see her neighbour (the wealthy divorcee) locking lips with this homeless man.

Here is where I bring rationality back into the equation. If Ms. A or I wanted to settle and give up all hopes of true love, we could just go and invite a man, down on his luck, round for a cup of tea and a cheeky hob nob. As much as I enjoy a good dunking of a mcvitie’s into a nice warmer than warm cup of tea, I am holding out for true love. I want a man who is willing to spend all day staring at a spoon in an attempt to make it bend, if it means making me happy on a rainy day. He doesn’t have to have material wealth or be Ryan Lochte’s identical twin, but just know how to make me laugh. And promise to do this for the rest of our days. This is what I want. This is my rationality. And I am not settling.

Another day where this phrase came to mind was when I was dining the opposite side of the village at Anjelika’s Kitchen. In spite of lacking in decor and having a rather interesting clientele, it’s by far home to the best vegan cuisine in the metropolis. My friend S and I were famished after gallivanting around the city, so sure enough tucked into a hearty meal. Half way through the meal a middle aged woman and her husband sat next to us. For the remainder of my main course I had to endure this woman’s nasal Brooklyn tones exclaim ‘Oh my god. I don’t know what to eat. I had some sun chips today. Oh god. Would you look at that. Oh god’. I eventually managed to tune her out and continue to enjoy catching up with one of my best friends. Until dessert came.

S and I had decided to share a tiny- all organic-gluten free- naturally sweetened- blueberry cobbler. Once it arrived the woman became even louder, apparently intrigued by our dessert.


S and I made eye contact thinking the exact same thing (why doesn’t she lean in and ask us politely if it is as scrumptious as it looks?) but we continued to be polite feigning ignorance.

The waitress approached the woman asking if there was anything else her or her husband wanted.

‘I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THEY HAD’. Said the woman.

The waitress informed her about the cobbler. She also losing patience with the woman taking the good lord’s name in vain too often, told her to ask us if we enjoyed it. ‘WAS IT GOOD?’ The woman sneered. S and I sang the high praises of the sweet and stood up to gather our belongings. ‘OH I DON’T KNOW. OH MY GOD. I DON’T KNOW’. The woman continued.

Me being engulfed in fuchsia pink clothing and accessories, with my big blonde hair demanded a lot of attention in this particular establishment where the ‘it’ colour was khaki, and I had nearly reached breaking point with the nasality and rudeness of this woman’s voice. I took a deep breath and kindly said; ‘If you share the dessert between the two of you, I bet it would only be around 100 calories.’

‘THAT IS NOT 100 CALORIES’ she shouted at me.

The tone in her voice struck my last nerve.

I stood up straight, pink and blonde, I smiled sweetly, and with my estuary english mother tongue I shouted; ‘You could get it, you could eat it and NOT GIVE A SHIT AND ENJOY YOUR LIFE!’.

I turned to the waitress thanked her for a lovely meal and sauntered out of the restaurant.

Now bringing rationality back into the equation. Here was a woman, who clearly was in a position to eat out whenever she wanted to, she had a husband who sat doting on her, and there she was. Stressing about every morsel that entered her body. Where was her rationality? Some people don’t have the luxury to go out and enjoy a $10 cobbler the size of a human eye ball. Don’t go out to dinner if you are worried about eating something other than sun chips (which by the way probably have less nutritional value that the cobbler). Also now I never see myself becoming one of those women that ‘let themselves go’, but blow my brains out with a pistol if you think that when in my 50’s I will torment myself and all within ear shot over a bit of bloody dessert.

In conclusion; don’t leave your house without bringing your rationality into the big world with you. You never know when you may need it for an equation.


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