When you're happy, how you know it.

Winter's annual spring forward brings fresh produce, sxsw and skin as Texans shed most of their clothes in hot pursuit of a moderately comfortable body temperature. Ah, subtropical climates - can't beat it. But with this happiness comes a down cycle in my productivity. I seem to lose all motivation, and often times inspiration, to write when I'm happy. Creative friends notice the same and I can't seem to put my finger on why. Luckily, I'm in law school and always sort of miserable. As a self-absorbed college student (so much has changed.), I wrote:

"They say life comes in waves. I went from floundering in 50 foot waves of lemons to the beach with an ice cold lemonade in hand. Honestly, I'd at least like to be in the kiddie pool or something. I just feel so far removed from what I perceive as life that I'm dying a little inside. I'm now experiencing normalcy - an altogether dull and tedious state of existence for me."

Just the thought of a routine, "normal" life makes me itchy with anxiety. Without excitement and spontaneity, even with the combined happiness and serenity of all the Dalai Lamas, I die a little. It's a painfully immature aspect of my personality, one I (not so secretly) hope keeps me out of suburban life with three kids and a friends base found exclusively through PTA luncheons.

Fortunately, I just got back from the excitement of SXSW and haven't quit the misery machine of school so I'm still able to spend my Saturday mornings writing and concocting things like this:

Leaning Tower of pretentious food.

This isn't so much a recipe as frying some sage and goat cheese (rolled into balls, chilled, pass through some egg wash then bread crumbs and fry quickly in 375F-ish peanut oil), reducing balsamic, and then assembling the parts. Drizzle with good first press olive oil, scatter on some whole pink peppercorns, sea salt, and basil.

Fried Sage.

Well, they say everything's better with bacon.