My Chicken or Egg Life

Well, hello there! Welcome to 2015, everyone. I guess we're living in the future now. Forgive me for jumping right in, but after a 16 month blog break there seemed like no better way to begin again other than to, you know...Begin. Again.

I was tired. Tired of talking about myself, mostly. Tired of going around in circles in my life and not getting anywhere. Most of this came from the fact that, during the late summer and early fall of 2013, when I last wrote on this blog, I was trying REALLY HARD to figure myself out. I'd been physically sick for years and spent the end of 2013 going to a slew of doctors who found nothing wrong with me. I'd struggled with various levels of depression for even longer, and was seeing a regular therapist, a psychiatrist and a sex therapist at the same time.

It was too much. Too much me. Too much of my problems going around in my head all the live long day and night. The kicker? All that talking and commiserating and worrying and taking anti-depressants and spending money I didn't really have to try to get help...But nothing changed. I didn't feel significantly better. Sure, I'd stopped crying so much, but I did not feel hopeful or have any renewed interest in life. So, I stopped.

Stopped taking the meds. Stopped writing about myself all the time. Stopped going to all the therapists and stopped making appointments for any new doctors to poke around my troubled tummy. All my issues have stuck with me for the past 16 months, but I just needed a break from trying SO hard to figure myself out.

-Why do I lack drive?
-Why am I afraid of everything?
-Why am I so awkward socially?
-Why can't I lose weight and keep it off?
-Why do so many things bore me so quickly?
-Why can't I be more like Beyonce?

The list of personal quandaries feels endless. From the time I was in college the answer felt sort of simple: Um, you're depressed, you dummy! Stop being depressed and you'll finally be normal! Lord knows I tried, for decades, to shut the depression down with medication and therapy and blogging and gratitude lists and an embarrassingly long reading list of self-help books. It would ebb and flow; lessen and increase. But never go away. Never ever go ALL THE WAY AWAY.

For the most part I spent my non-blogging, no-longer-in-therapy time as I had before: doing the bare minimum to survive and get through my days without bursting into tears. Going through the motions, not really enjoying life or being a participant in life or getting much out of it at all.

Then November 2014 came around. It was just two weeks after my cousin died suddenly in his sleep from a heart attack. He was 40, born in April 1974, and I was about to be 40 in just three weeks. Not that I didn't know I could die at any minute, I did and always had known that, since I was never one of those daring, thrill-seeking youngsters. But now, after losing my cousin, it was a super real possibility. What if I actually didn't have tomorrow to get off my ass and get something, anything, accomplished?

The first thing I did was something I'd been saying I was going to do for a few years but never did: I signed up for NANOWRIMO 2014. And, I finished. I wrote a 51,716 word novel. That has now tied with traveling alone to three film festivals in three cities I'd never been in before as my most cherished accomplishment.

After coming down off the high of reaching a personal goal, I spent my holidays doing a lot of thinking, and something occurred to me. Maybe the depression wasn't causing my lack of drive. Maybe my lack of drive and reluctance to step out of my comfort zone, no matter how uncomfortable it had become, was keeping me depressed. And, just like the chicken or egg scenario we're all familiar with, my depression and fear fed each other in an endless cycle that felt impossible to break down. I was 40. I'd spent roughly 20 years of my precious life mired in the fear of the new to the point that I'd made myself a tad bit OCD and agoraphobic.

I'd tried talking my depression away and medicating it away, but the only thing I hadn't tried for any significant length of time was simply doing the things I'd always wanted to do even if I was scared.

So, that's what I'm doing now. I wrote a book that I'll be re-reading and editing starting this week. For the past month I've been walking four miles on most days, even when it bores me and my hips hurt. I'm breaking down my wants and needs into small actions and fucking getting them done.

I'm going to stop giving up on myself, because I'm the only damn person who can make the next 40+ years mean anything.

How are you making your life more meaningful in 2015?

Tuesday Tipday: How To Face Abundance That Isn't Yours

When I'm having a hard time, it's difficult for me to watch strangers be happy. I'm not proud of that, but there it is. I don't want other people to be miserable, but if I'm down I don't want to be a witness to their good fortune, either.

And, really? I don't think I'm alone in this. We all get jealous from time to time. Sometimes, when you're struggling with what you don't have, it's impossible to see anything else but what others do have. And it always seems like so much more than what you've got. There are a few things you can do to keep from losing your mind whenever you see someone with more (success, free time, money, fame, talent, joy, luck, classic cars...)of what you want.

How To Face Abundance That Isn't Yours

1) Focus: What's leading to the feelings of inadequacy? Facebook? Twitter? Monthly meetups with high school classmates? Give it a rest for a bit and concentrate on your life and whatever is working. Even if it's tiny. You finally finished that book of crossword puzzles! Your cat's gotten over her cold! The old man who stares at you while licking his lips wasn't on the bus today! Technically, I suppose this is what's commonly referred to as "gratitude", but I've decided I don't like that word. It sounds too lofty; like whatever you chose to spotlight had better be a major life-changer. Big stuff is fine, but since most of us only get little victories on a regular basis, those are the ones to focus on.

2) They don't have your stuff: For some reason this one's especially hard to remember. Here's the truth: just because you want to become a well-known and widely respected singer/songwriter doesn't mean that Taylor Swift got your mojo. Neither did John Mayer or Kanye West or anyone else who's doing what you want to be doing at a high level. While it's true that some people have more opportunities than others, everybody has their own juice. No one else has your money or your fame or your talent. They've made the most of what they were given and you have to do the same.

3) We never see the whole story: Another thing I'm not proud of is one of my jealousy coping mechanisms. Whenever I see someone my age or younger in a fabulous car, say a Bentley convertible, I invent bad stuff for their life. He lives in his car. His toddler son is a terror. He stole all the money he used to buy the car and will soon be caught and imprisoned...You get the picture. My point, though somewhat mean, is surprisingly valid. When you look at someone's Facebook page, do you know what they're sharing?

THE GOOD STUFF. ONLY THE GOOD STUFF!

No one is telling you about the toe they broke finishing that 25 mile marathon. They don't mention all the food they wasted trying to create the dish that won $10,000 in a recipe contest. Everyone's life is difficult in some way; they just don't make a habit of splashing those tribulations all over the internet. Remember that next time you're filled with envy.

Happy Friday: The Consequences Of Cabin Fever

I'm pretty sure that my depressive episode this week was greatly fueled by cabin fever. For almost a full month we've had temperatures at 100 degrees or higher, and since I seem to be getting more and more sensitive to heat as I get older, I've been keeping my ass indoors.

Guess who's tired of it? Right, me! I'm a homebody from way back, so I never thought I'd get sick of sitting at home but OH MY GOD AM I EVER SICK OF SITTING AT HOME. I'm going to have to make a commitment to get out (without running errands the whole time) at least a few mornings a week. I felt so good yesterday just sitting at the library and reading for a while.

I also felt better for writing in the morning. I noticed this when I was working on that short story competition, but because I'm me and stubborn I refused to take note: I like writing in the morning. Or, at least, making notes on my stories and fleshing out details in the morning. I'll have to work that in, too. Preferably every day. It's Do My Opposite time again. When my body says, stay at home and lay around watching TV, I'll have to get my ass up, get out of the house and go write.

Enough about my discoveries! Here's something for you...

1) Entrepreneur might be able to help you fight fears and give good talk.

2) The University of Pennsylvania's Authentic Happiness website is filled with questionnaires to test your happiness level.

3) Apparently, blow jobs are good for women, too. Don't tell the menfolk!

4) Wanna see Brad Pitt's brother Doug in a goofy commercial? Sure you do!

5) I just found O*Net and My Next Move. Both sites are good for job seekers, especially anyone looking to change careers. You can take assessment tests, search for jobs based on what you like to do and look into over 900 careers. I plan to get into these this weekend. Fun times!

That's all for now. Since I skipped Music Monday this week, I'm gonna leave you with some tunes...





Have a magnificent weekend!

On Depression

I left the house today. It's not the first time in weeks or anything. But it is the first time in days that I thought I should leave the house and look nice.

Partly, this is because all my fall-back clothes are dirty. But also, I wanted to look better. I put in my eyebrow gel and swiped on lipgloss. I wore a good bra and covered my tired eyes with giant sunglasses. I pulled on decent clothes that aren't too big for me and stepped into the light.

All I did was spend 40 minutes at the library, but it helped. It helped to be out of the house without errands and lists and a strict budget. It helped to look like I cared about more than chocolate, The Young & the Restless and naps at noon. It helped to feel a breeze on my skin that was under 100 degrees and to be among the world outside that keeps turning in my absence.

I have been having one of those weeks where everything feels heavy. Like life is too much for me. Cooking, bathing, thinking, moving, doing; all felt like too much. Sure, I've gotten some things done, but just the day-to-day basics. Nothing new or different or fun or fascinating. Sometimes, too often, all I can manage is what's easy. Whatever I've done a million times - even if it hurts me.

I had a moment earlier in the week. I was reading an article on happiness that talked about the importance of having a mission. It struck me (as stuff like this so often does, when I'm not expecting a revelation) that I've never really had any long-standing positive missions in life.

For decades my main goal has been "getting through this." Not living or exploring or growing, but making sure I don't succumb to my overwhelming negativity. Not jumping out the sixth floor window of my college residence hall room. Not taking the blades out of my razor and using them for something harder than shaving. Not staying in bed all day and crying.

This article also said that for happiness we need an atmosphere of growth. And when we have a mission we create that atmosphere for ourselves.

No wonder I'm still sad about so much. Still stuck and confused and wandering the Earth with my hands tied behind my back. If your only mission is to not die, that doesn't allow for much growth unless you reside (unfortunately) in a war zone.

So, now what? I feel a bit lighter today; oddly enough, only after writing a lot about depression. And, I've turned off the TV for hours to be alone with my thoughts. How can I flip my mission so that it's not about Not Dying, but Living? Really living. Feeling good or feeling bad in an atmosphere of growth. How?

I Have Done This Work Thing All Wrong

Annie Jump Cannon

I had a bad dream that scared me awake yesterday morning. I was still working at my old job, the one I spent almost 10 years at doing things I didn't care about at all. One day, the Big Boss' daughter comes in with him. She's a little girl of around nine or so. He introduces me and she seems nice, then they head back to his office with her bounding down the hall all the way.

The next part of the dream is a bit fuzzy, but as I remember it, I start a vacation the next day and am gone for about a week. Normal vacation time. When I get back in to work everyone's asking me about my time off and I see a new face. We're introduced and when she walks away I ask someone about her. What do they say? Oh, her? She's Big Boss' daughter, remember? She works here now.

The woman is clearly mid-twenties. Meaning, 15 years have passed with me doing the same job I hate and I hadn't even noticed.

I cannot fully describe the cold dread that woke me up Tuesday morning. I was sick to my stomach, sweaty and something else...Suddenly aware, maybe? After my initial shock I didn't think about the dream any more. Until this morning when I had a work-related flash of insight:

When I left my job four years and six months ago, I wasn't stepping out on faith. I was being stupid.

There's a saying about faith without works being dead. I hadn't done any of the work to be able to leave my job and have things turn out alright. But it didn't occur to me at the time. When they made me the offer, all I could think about was being free. Of course, I likely would have been fired had I not taken the deal, but I didn't think about that either. The idea of being happy with some job somewhere was all I could see.

And yet, now that I know this, and truly feel in my bones that I made a huge mistake, there's nothing I can do about it. Now, I feel more fear about the future than I do on an average day. I feel dumber, even less prepared to live and thrive in the real world. More useless. Less able to cope with my failings.

And I don't (really, really don't) know what to do about it.
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Ahh, fuck. I need some music to pep me up.

Music Monday: New Music Week!

So, it's Monday again. We got some relief in St. Louis courtesy of a good, old fashioned rainy night yesterday. We hadn't had any major rain for about three weeks, so it had been dry and super hot.

HUBS and I also spent two and a half hours at the most extensive community pool I've ever been to. They had two giant water slides, a large outdoor pool, an indoor water slide, an indoor wave pool, a kiddie pool with bubbles and hot tub. HUBS has been talking about going to this particular pool for at least two years and I've never wanted to go.

Why, you ask? Because I hate being in public with no pants on. Because I can't swim. Because I dislike seeing bodies that are better or worse than mine. Because I dislike getting my hair wet or my eyeglasses wet. Because I don't like getting splashed in the face...I could go on, but won't. Despite my distaste for getting any part of my body wet while not bathing, I am a huge wet blanket at the pool (The beach is another story. I like beaches as long as I have some shade.)

But I went. For HUBS. And after about an hour I got a locker key, put my bag away, watched HUBS on the water slides and waded into the wave pool. After getting a 20 minute pounding, we went off the the hot tub and relaxed with the water jets. I don't need to go through this every weekend, but I'd be willing to go again at some point.

Now, we all know Monday is for music here on citygirl, but I've decided to do something different this week. Along with my usual Monday post, I'm also going to feature two new (to me, anyway) songs each day through Friday. Yay, right? Discovering new bands/artists is one of the things I love most in this world, and I especially love turning other people on to good music.

So, let's get started!





To tell me what new music you're loving lately, leave a comment below and maybe some of your favorites will show up on New Music Week!

Happy Friday

The weeks pass so fast, don't they? I remember when I was still an office-goer how long each week seemed on Mondays. Then, no matter how horribly the individual days droned on, suddenly it was Friday and we could all breathe a sigh of relief that we'd have whole days to ourselves.

HUBS and I have nothing of note planned. I'll be going to get my hair did tomorrow and plan to drop off PT's Mother's Day gift. Sunday we'll take Julia to the vet to see about his yearly shots and what's going on with his oddly placed fur loss.

I will try, all in all, to Do My Opposite so the days don't fade away from me surrounded by a cloud of freaked-out-by-doing-new-thingsness. And maybe, just maybe, I'll bake some homemade scones.

Have a great weekend everyone! Hopefully some of these things will make the days more interesting:

1) I just finished reading Girl Walks into a Bar by Rachel Dratch of SNL and King of Queens fame. You will like this book. How do I know? Because one chapter is titled How to Care for Your Fuckin' Baby. Go! Read and enjoy!

2) If you've seen The Avengers (and really, you should), you might enjoy this thank you that director/writer Joss Whedon posted on a fan site.

3) Old school art/photography/design lovers will like the magazine cover archive at Ad Art Gallery.

4) Artsy-cool maps from Stamen include digital watercolors of whatever city you search for.

5) I just discovered Trombone Shorty and think you should get to know him, too:

Friends In High Places

Debby, during our trip to Branson

My best friend Debby died seven years ago on a hailing, storm-ridden morning in Spring. Actually, I don't know if she considered me her best friend. We never talked about it or analyzed it, we just up and started doing everything together one day.

We worked at the same company. I was the newbie, and also the youngest non-intern there. She took me under her wing, asking me to do something with her during our off hours one day. It was so long ago now that I can't even remember what it was. But, it wasn't long before we were visiting new restaurants together, having pizza parties during the Golden Globes and gossiping about co-workers and bosses and people we didn't know. We took shopping road trips to Branson and Schaumberg, IL, went to movies on weekends, did concerts after work, pulled pranks on our office manager together and dissected the latest episodes of Gilmore Girls and The X-Files over extended coffee breaks.

I don't think I ever told Debby everything. Like about how lonely I'd been before we started hanging out. Or how I'd never been on a date and was a virgin. I certainly never mentioned that I'd always felt like a loser. But it really didn't matter. Because with Debby around everything was better. Brighter, happier, bolder, more interesting and exciting.

Debby was really quite different from me. She was a few years older (You'll think it's silly, but I never asked her age. Again, it didn't matter.) and the kind of outgoing, outspoken person that many people loved. (Unless they disliked her. Which was usually either because she'd put them in their place or was obviously liked by more people then they were.) She'd been around and done stuff and known people, which I hadn't.

She also had the kind of loud, addictive laugh that would stop the whole office and have our co-workers asking What? What's so funny? Tell me! Debby was also the best gift-giver I've ever known. Mention a thing once, briefly and in passing, and you were guaranteed to have it either on your birthday or at Christmas. Guaranteed.

Debby was not the only best friend I'd ever had. There were Danielle and Chiquita in grade school. Sara in high school. Emily in high school, college and a few years after college. I'd never quite had a friend like Debby, though, and I don't know if it'd be possible to have a friend that cool again. But, I'd like to try.

I'm now four years deep into my friend desert. After quitting the company where I met Debby, I was left with one friend from the old co-working gang who keeps in touch on a regular basis. We meet once a year for our shared birthday and email a few times beyond that. She's got three kids, a husband, a full time job, is running her own business on the side and doesn't even live in the same state as me. This is why we see each other once a year.

Emily found me on Facebook last year and we talk on the phone every month or so. Why don't we hang out? She's got a husband who works crazy hours and a rambunctious three-year-old...Oh, yeah, and in the past year she's moved from Boston to Chicago to a beach-side city in California. I still lay my head down in our hometown of St. Louis every night.

I need some girl talk. Some shopping trips and concert-going hijinks and female bonding sessions that begin with crying and end with raucous laughter. As nice as my family is, I need face time with other women who are not related to me.

If you're looking for the same thing, but are anxiety-ridden about trying to friend folks as an adult (like me), you should read the book I finished last week. MWF Seeking BFF by Rachel Bertsche. Rachel found herself in a new city without her network of besties around and decided to go on one friend date a week for a whole year. It took guts (Debby would approve), but it worked.

And when you're feeling weary and alone there's nothing better than knowing that someone walked the path before you and made it work.

Interesting Theories

In the interest of EXPANSION I've been reading a lot of books on freelancing, writing, creating an ideal life and personal branding over the last few months. Last night I was pouring over Be Your Own Brand, and some of the ideas really struck me.

I've wondered quite a bit on here (and during my general alone time) about why I procrastinate and sabotage myself. I've come to the basic conclusion that I'm afraid of a lot of stuff, but this book made me think something else is also behind it.

The authors write about the importance of authenticity when building a brand. People, they say, will trust you faster and longer when they feel you're being real with them. Which, aside from making total sense, I believe I'm good at doing. But, they also mention three important components of authenticity: purpose, vision and values.

I have the strongest handle on my values (the stuff that's important to me), a little bit less of a grasp on my vision (What do I really want out of life? To make movies? Become a pro-blogger? Make money selling my photos?) and almost no idea of what my purpose (Really, why do I specifically exist in the world?) is.

The purpose part is what really bugged and stuck with me, because here's what they say about purposeless folks: people without it have no grounding for their values, no motivation to act and nothing that inspires desire.

NO MOTIVATION TO ACT AND NOTHING THAT INSPIRES DESIRE.

That's not a direct quote, but that's what hit my heart hard. That phrase pretty much describes my whole life. I've got lots of big goals and plans and dreams, but have made very little effort to bring much of anything to fruition.

The Why am I here? question has nagged at me since I was a little kid. It comes to the forefront whenever I have a deeply depressed moment that leaves me feeling like a wasted bag of useless existence. But, really? I've never had a very strong feeling of Oh! This is why I'm here!

Even when I get an inkling of that feeling, my brain stops it with But that's silly. I can't be here to help people with their screenplays. Or, How could I have been put here just to rescue stray cats?

Is this it? Is this really why I lack enough ambition to push through fear and act on what I want with few limitations? Has this been the root of my depression all these years? Is this what's actually causing my newly acquired panic attacks? Is this the root of my general passionless mood, something that's been with me for decades?

I swear. The more I read, the more I see how screwy I am.

What about you? Do you know why you're here?

At Least There's A Good Reason This Time

I'm tired again. But, this time I'm sore too, because I spent about eight hours yesterday cleaning, moving furniture, vacuuming and organizing in an effort to remake our little library. The best part? Aside from smelling like a horse at the end of all that, the area still looks messy as all hell.

It all started when HUBS called Monday night from a solo shopping trip saying he'd found several storage bench options for the foot of the bed. We've been scoping benches for a few months, but the only one we liked was at Target during our penniless period a couple of weeks ago. And, of course, that one's not for sale anymore.

So, after picking up some stuff (including a Dyson, which works incredibly well but costs way more than I've ever thought a vacuum should) he came and got me so I could see what he found at Homegoods.

Now, HUBS doesn't have bad taste or anything, but his ideas about what will look good where tend to be a bit different from mine. Also, he occasionally likes unattractive things. I wasn't that impressed with any of the benches he found, but I did see one he managed not to notice at all.



See how cool that looks at the foot of the bed? It's a slightly off white leather, and as soon as we set it up I loved it. Now I'm looking for a (under $20) bright yellow or turquoise lacquer tray that I can sit on top and put those books in.

I managed to clear out three under bed storage boxes by filling the bench. That opened up space under the bed for some of the crap that's been cluttering the corners of the library. Which led to me dusting things as I moved them around and then vacuuming the open spaces and then rearranging stuff and vacuuming some more.

Boy howdy! I was not expecting to spend that amount of time on this yesterday! But, at least I've made some headway into this get-it-done-in-2011 project.

I'm also trying to arrange the library in a way that will (somewhat unobtrusively) accommodate HUBS' bike on a stationary stand. The couch will likely have to go the way of Goodwill, but I'll miss the way it looks there. Any design buffs out there? With any ideas?

Music Monday! Why Am I Still Tired?

Well, hopefully this song will help pep you up during your post-lunch slump like it has me. I've been tired since last Monday when I only got three hours of sleep on the previous night. I'm eating my veggies. I'm taking my vitamins. I'm getting between six and eight hours of sleep a night. Why am I so sleepy?

Screw the slump! Let's get with some Fitz and The Tantrums!

Well, At Least That's Some Good News...

The video is in Thai, just so you know.

Japan has an island filled with cats and old people that has been largely untouched by the ridiculously unfair amount of recent turbulence. At least that's something.

Tuesday Tipday: To Serve Man

For years now I've been against buying cookbooks. When you subscribe to as many magazines as I have (ok, do) you get plenty of recipes in your mailbox every month, not to mention the scores of cooking ideas you can find online, on TV, or from the library.

One of my favorite cooking shows is Everyday Food, and I also get the magazine from the library and scan the recipes I'd like to try. I was looking through an issue and saw that one of the hosts of the show, Lucinda Scala Quinn had written a cookbook that helps you deal with feeding men. Feeding men, y'all!

I cannot tell you how much she read my mind! After several months of low-level poverty where figuring out what to cook and eat was a daily trial, I needed this book. By the time I found out about it HUBS and I had recovered some financial stability, but I was still feeling like I didn't really know how to cook for us.

HUBS can only cook pasta with jar sauce, burgers and fries; if I want anything besides that I have to cook, and that's fine (usually), I like cooking. But, back when I was living alone, if I didn't feel like cooking or didn't have anything much in the house and didn't have much cash to shop, do you know what I did? I ate cereal, or a salad, or a sandwich and I was fine.



That won't work with HUBS. He needs massive quantities of meat to feel like he's eaten anything other than a snack. I believe I could feed him an entire box of cereal and a half gallon of milk for dinner and within two hours he'd go "Yeah, that didn't really feel like a meal."

I. Love. This. Book! It's not just the tips and the recipes but the book-iness of the book: the design of the cover and pages, the photography, the heft of it and the textured, cloth-like cover. In the intro she acknowledges that "men eat differently from women." Yes! I thought I was going crazy over here, watching HUBS eat five Arby's roast beef sandwiches with a large order of fries and a giant soda in one freakin' sitting! It's not just me, apparently. Men just do that.

For Tuesday Tipday I'm going to share one of her suggestions with you: serve the man you cook for. I know, I know. He's a grown-ass man, he can walk, you did all the cooking and the least he can do is fix his own plate, but guess what? If he's what I like to call a Hungry Jack, he'll literally eat everything if you let him.

Once I started putting reasonable portions on HUBS' plate, he ate it and was generally satisfied. He rarely even goes back for seconds now. This means that when I cook enough for six people, I will actually have four servings of leftovers instead of one! Amazing!

The long and short of it? If you like to cook, you can't go wrong with this book. If you like to eat, you can't go wrong with this book. And if you're still getting used to feeding a man, you cannot go wrong with this book!

Eat This Sandwich

Holy crap, it's like a god.

Everyone loves a grilled cheese sandwich. Well, everyone who loves cheese loves a grilled cheese sandwich. And if you don't love cheese you can't be American...Or human, so I've got no interest in what you eat, anyway.

But, cheese loving people all over the world need to find a way to make and eat this sandwich. Now, I've made grilled cheese all kinds of ways over the years. I think, though, that I've finally made the best one ever. You will need about four thinly sliced pieces of apple (I used a Pink Lady), three different types of cheese (for me it was fontina, Borden pepper jack and a shredded Italian blend), honey ham, good wheat bread, cracked pepper, Italian seasoning and cooking spray.

Now, lay out your first piece of bread and cover it with a cheese slice, top it with the apple slices, more cheese, cracked pepper, ham, Italian seasoning, cheese, and last piece of bread. Spray both sides with cooking spray and, here's what I think really makes a difference, put the sandwich in a hot panini press or Foreman grill. After a few minutes you can turn the sandwich 45 degrees to get cross-hatched grill marks, but as you can see from the photo it's not a requirement.

Take it off the grill and dig in. Oh. My. Gawwwwwwwd. The best part, the thing I found so amazing, is that it stayed hot the entire time I ate it. I've never made a grilled cheese that didn't get cold two seconds after I took it off the stove. Never.

Ok, finish your sandwich, wipe your mouth and hands and thank me. Aren't you glad you read this blog? I knew you would be...