Someone referred to me as "authentic" yesterday. That is just about the nicest compliment I've ever been given. Second only to "effervescent" which was how someone who didn't even like me once described me.au-then-tic [aw-then-tik] adjectivenot false or copied; genuine; real
For years I ran from my true "me." I pretended I wasn't a dork or a misfit or goofy or weird. I tried to forget about the mean kids on the junior high bus who called me Foxy because I was so darned unattractive (greasy hair and fogged-up bottle-bottom glasses) and clueless (ten-year-old hand-me-downs and a snorkel parka). I just wanted to fit in. I wanted to be the pretty girl that everybody liked. It wasn't until I discovered that my oddities are my strength that I was able to not only feel comfortable but to really appreciate myself. Once I embraced my goofiness I realized that most of us had mean kids on the junior high bus that still pick at our insecurities.
As I slowly grow up I am coming to terms with not being liked by everybody. If you don't like me, you have your reasons, but that isn't going to stop me from being my "authentic" self. Yes, that's me: Ms. Authenticity with a Blue Ribbon in Effervescence.
I've mentioned before our annual Memorial Day Weekend homage to The Dude (an authentic fellow if ever there was one), Walter, Donny, Maude, Brandt, Bunny, Jackie Treehorn, Smokey, Jesus, the nihilists, and The Stranger. Want to throw a Big Lebowski viewing party of your own? This week's Called to the Table includes recipes for spicy home-ground burgers (pictured above on a grilled portabella) and the Stranger's Sarsaparilla Snaps.
We always have burgers during our Lebowski film fest, but next year I might shake things up a little and serve lingonberry pancakes.