Let Them Eat Pancakes (A Rant on Love and Gratitude)

On Tuesday I had this grand plan to go home right after work and knock out my taxes, like a big girl. Unfortunately, on my lunch break I was messing around on Twitter and realized it was National Pancake Day! How could I possibly do taxes on National Pancake Day!? (This is my brain on procrastination.) So instead of doing my taxes, I Tweeted my hetero life partner, K, who—after bickering with me for about an hour like a tired spouse should—came over for a feast.

We made the Pumpkin Pancake recipe from Isa Chandra Moskowitz’ Vegan Brunch, which I blogged about a few months back. Except this time, since we were feeling decadent, we added big chunks of semi-sweet baker’s chocolate.

Midway through our pancake revelry, I received the horrifying news that someone I am over-the-moon about is in the hospital following a freakish accident that should be reserved for day-time TV and movies starring Ben Stiller. One minute I am listening to Ida Maria and making pancakes. The next I am hyperventilating in my bedroom while K massages my back with my Hitachi magic wand (what are friends for?), furiously dialing every Emergency Room in New York City, plus a few confused plastic surgeons. That’s what they get for being listed under “hospital.”

That type of rapid atmosphere change always reminds me to be thankful for what I have, every single freakin’ day. There shouldn’t be one specific “day” to enjoy everything. Who makes these national days anyway? Shouldn’t you enjoy pancakes every day? This is parallel to my issue with Valentine’s day, which I always feel socially obligated to participate in. Why do you need a specific day to celebrate the better things in life?

At risk of sounding like a public service announcement, I just need to reiterate how important it is to be good to the people you love, and tell them—scratch that, SHOW them—how important they are to you every day. Haven’t you heard that extremely over-played Sublime song? “Life is short, so love the one you got.” Just like the ska punk band of my youth says, you might get run over…or shot…or caught up in a violent lovers’ spat while coming home from work.

What I am ranting about here is that accidents happen all the time, nothing is guaranteed, and you never know when the last time you see someone could be.  Life is crazy like an emotionally unstable lover,  so don’t take her for granted. One day she is all sweet and smiling and the next she is boiling bunnies on your stove. So, be grateful for what you have. Love with abandon. Let petty feelings and trivial arguments dissolve. Celebrate what you have because you never know what tomorrow brings. And eat your pancakes every day, not just because you want to wiggle out of doing your taxes.

I didn't really eat all those. But wouldn't you be impressed?


About SexyTofu

Good food. Good sex. Good fun.
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5 Responses to Let Them Eat Pancakes (A Rant on Love and Gratitude)

  1. NICK says:

    Dude, brinner sounds so good right now. BRINNER – a word that entered my life from my main man Bill Lawrence. Pancakes are the best. Dot com. Backslash, fuckyeahbreakfast.

  2. I SO agree…and I am so thankful and grateful I have you in my life!
    xoxoxox jungle jain

  3. Ezra says:

    Hey! Thanks for commenting on mah blog. I’m kindof still laughing at the image shmush that happened when my mental image of boiling bunnies collided with the image of lovers spats I’d already summoned up.

    Also, thanks for reminding me that even though my friends and I waited a long hour at ihop before giving up our chance at free pancakes, every minute I get to spend with them is precious.

  4. I want you and those pancakes all over me. Love this post. Also, looking forward to your write-up on monogamy haters.

    I know you’re out there!!!! Come out and enlighten us! ❤

  5. Pingback: Southern Cooking: Cornbread, Kale and Red Bush Barbecue « Sexy Tofu

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