Freedom Starts from the First Step

Wow. Thank you all for your warm wishes towards the few little achievements I have made through my blog. Seriously, why are you guys all so freaking amazing? This was exactly what I meant when I said that I could never have done without your overwhelming support and encouragement! I am only half-way through my recovery pie and have still more to eat (literally and figuratively) towards total recovery, but I have great faith and expectations within me that I will get there soon!

As I reflected back to the tiny accomplishments I’ve made, it has hit me that the worst is over. Why? Because every ED challenge is getting easier and easier for me to face and conquer. I can’t believe I took so freaking long to do this. Because really…recovery is not impossible. It sounds impossible, and it certainly feels impossible, but once you make that giant leap, things just get easier from then on.

Recovery is a lot like running. It is always the first step that is the hardest. That little initial push takes lots of effort, but from then on, your body automatically just gets into the rhythm of it. Habits are hard to break, but when you continuously and persistently defy it, it will crumble, and you start to form a new positive habit.

It’s all about that first step. How far are you willing to go? The bigger the first step, the easier and less steps there are left. So why not start now? Why not start big? Why not bite the bullet, and rip that band aid off instead of peeling it off painfully and slowly?

Recovery has a lot of uncomfortable parts to it: the awkward weight gain, the constant bloating, the continuous struggle to do what is so unnatural and scary to me. But no pain, no gain. And the gain is definitely worth it: Unrestrained, refreshing freedom.

Yesterday, I once again marveled at how much liberty I gained just from the few challenges I’ve conquered in my recovery. I went out with my friends for a trip around Washington, D.C: without a single plan, without knowing what time or where we’ll be dining. Just…throwing all strict planning and schedules into the air, I just tagged along my friends. And enjoyed the hell out of myself.

We walked around the Botanic Gardens, and at first I just pretended to be interested in those yawn-inducing ugly plants, but very soon my friends’ enthusiasm affected me and I became one of those nature-nerds, exclaiming at every cactus and green moss, taking pictures of my favorite flowers and plants.
The orchid, the national flower of Singapore.
And of course, being a foodie, I was most interested in edible plants. The Garden had a display of different spices and herbs for us to smell:
Saffron, the most expensive spice in the world, which I have not had the pleasure of tasting yet…
Oh, who can resist the lovely fragrance of vanilla?

And my favorite smell:
I don’t know why, but I adore the odor of horse manure. I know, I’m a freak!

We also walked by the Reflecting Pool, enjoying the cool breeze and doing some camera-whoring. It was altogether a relaxing, fun day, and it did me a lot of good to get out of the house and have a change from my usual daily schedule and perfunctory timetable.

Come dinnertime, we set off to Dupont Circle to meet two more of our friends for dinner. At that time we were still undecided on where to dine, and I admit I did get a bit anxious. However my only opinion on the restaurant location was, “Anywhere but Asian.”

Thankfully, the only Asian restaurant around that area was this shady Chinese restaurant called “The Shining Lights” or something, and it was sketchily located next to…an adult toy shop (xxx-rated!), so thankfully we skipped right along that and settled on a nice-looking Italian restaurant that seemed to attract quite a lot of customers:
Sette Osteria. I have no idea what the name means, but the place looks bright and good! What’s more, the everything on the menu looked damn good:
The waiter was a young guy named Philip with white-blonde hair, and he did a great job recommending a few of the dishes to us. I had to interrupt a few times to explain what the ingredients were to my non-foodie friends, though. Anyone ever feel like a walking food-dictionary when you’re out with non-foodie friends too?

Anyway, while we took about 30 minutes to decide what to eat (poor poor waiter), the waiter refilled our bread three times:
Warm-grilled flatbread. It was crispy and thin, and I loved the charred marks on top. I think it may be the leftover dough from their pizza, but no matter, it was good.

Finally we decided on our menu, and the food came shortly after. Allen ordered the Contadina Pizza:
Smoked mozzarella, eggplants, roasted bell peppers, onions, and (self-added) sausages

I recommended the Cacio e Pepe for my friend Elsa:
Paccheri Pasta with pecorino cheese, parmigiano, and freshly ground black pepper
I’ve never seen such interesting noodles before! But where’s the cheese? It was delicious though, even after Elsa doused 1/2 a cup of balsamic vinegar all over it (–___-;;;).

Another fantastic dish I recommended to my friend Lillian:
Ravioli della Notta
Home made ravioli filled with pumpkin and amaretti with sage and butter sauce

How small the portion is! But Lillian was kind enough to share a whole piece of ravioli with me, and oh my god, it was delicious! Though I did not care for the overly-rich butter sauce…
Joyce ordered the Spaghetti alle Vongole:
Spaghetti with olive oil, garlic, and baby clams. She asked for no cheese, because she’s crazy. No cheese? Yawn.

Amy ordered the most expensive dish in the menu, the risotto of the day:
Primavera risotto with pan-fried sea bass. This was freaking gorgeous and delicious! Yum!

And guess what I ordered? No, just guess!
Gnocchi, of course! Or Gnocchi alla Sorrentina, to be exact.
Homemade gnocchi, with fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil

I’ve gotta be biased here, but mine was definitely the best.
The gnocchi was definitely hand-made, because it was cut into uneven pieces, which made it pleasantly “rustic” to me. So freaking good. Each bite was cheesy, yet not too creamy because of the acid from the fresh tomatoes.

Oh, but that was not all. Right after our satisfying dinner, we trudged off for dessert:
Anyone know Mr. Yogato? Whoever he is, I wanna force him to marry me.

Can you believe it’s my first time trying frozen yogurt? Oh my God, what has taken me so freaking long to enjoy this delicious treat? We got two huge cups to share:
Tangy Original froyo with mango

And a mix of Fidberry froyo and Tangy Original froyo with strawberries:
Yum! Yum!

And guess what? I no longer have to go out of my way to D.C. to get good frozen yogurt…

I’m going to California tomorrow!!!!

Early tomorrow morning, I’ll be flying over to Los Angeles for college orientation. When Orientation ends on Wednesday, I’ll be driving up to San Leandro to meet my cousin who is studying as an international student in San Francisco. I can hardly wait! I am so excited, even my butt is quivering on its seat. YES!

But you know what’s the best thing about this? I have not even one ounce of apprehension or fear inside me towards the upcoming trip, in which my mealtimes will be irregular and out of my hands, and in which a lot of “less healthy” food are most likely waiting for me.

I love it. I love this ripple of joyful excitement and liberation streaming out of me. I love not caring about preparing my own “safe” foods, or worrying about erratic mealtimes, or obsessing over what the heck I’ll be eating. I’ve missed traveling, I’ve missed this surge of adventurous spirit in me that has been dormant for so long.

Welcome back, ME, and adios, for my upcoming California trip! Wish me luck, my friends! And I’ll see you in California, preferably with frozen yogurt smears around my mouth!

Question of the day: Okay, so for our dinner last night, we all payed our separate tips, and I gave my waiter a 30% tip because:
1) We made him wait like an hour long waiting for our friends to arrive AND choosing our dishes and
2) We asked him TONS of questions which he answered patiently and
3) He refilled our bread basket like 3 times and
4) We made him go ask the bartender about the price of a personalized drink and didn’t order it.
Doesn’t that at least warrant a 25% tip?  How much do you usually tip your waiter, especially with better service like this?

P.S. Check out Traveleatlove’s giveaway! (Not telling what it is, go check it out yourself!)