AM and I were recently discussing the difference between being a satisficer and a maximizer. Let me step into teacher mode, for a few seconds, a give you a few definitions:
Sat-is-fice-r (n). One who, in the search for a product or a service, will look for specific criteria and purchase said products or service once a specific criteria has been met. Shirley, a satisficer, found a camera that she liked that had most of the features she wanted, so she bought it.
Max-im-ize-r (n.) One who, in search for a product or service, may find a product that will meet a specific criteria but continue to look until they find the "best" product for them. Jean, a maximizer, refuses to buy a new suit until he looks in every shop and reads the fashion magazines to look for the best cut color for his body shape.
I think that, in the grand scheme of things, I tend to be a satisficer. I see something that I want, something that maybe I have been thinking about buying for a long while, and if looks decent enough, I will buy it. I don't have to visit the consumer magazines, I don't have to look at the websites. I know that that article of whatever is exactly want to buy.
I'm also a sucker for good advertising. Show me a good trick or gimmick, something that may make me go "ooohhh" or think that that product is good for me in the long run, and I am more likely to buy that item. I love a good sales pitch, especially when it ends with "and for a limited time, we'll knock of x amount of money from the original cost". I love to buy things.
Now, AM and I had been considering replacing my old and ratty cookware. Old Teflon stuff from IKEA that I had bought ages ago. One pan had gotten so bad that it had a hill in the middle. If you wanted to fry something, you had to get used to using the sides of the pan because the grease or oil or whatever you were cooking in would just run down to the sides. Most of the pans had deep scratches on them and some of the Teflon was scratching off. (Some say that Teflon is bad for you, as it will flake off and has harmful chemicals, some say that it is harmless. I am erring on the side of safety and not going with Non-stick).
Now, we did do some research. We haunted the housewares departments of Sears and Dillards and J.C. Penney's, looking at the Calphalon, the All-Clad, even Paula Deen's and Emeril's sponsored brands. We coveted that shiny metal cookware. We went home; we looked at websites; we even checked out a few consumer reports.
And then we went to the State Fair. And there, for more money that we could probably afford, was our cookware. Now, like a new bride who is just getting to know her mate, I am incredibly protective of my new cookware. It was a lot of money, but was it worth it. The demonstration chef promised a world with no more cooking with oils, no more butters, no more frying. He cooked us up crisp delicious vegetables. We "oohed and ahhed" at the taste of the succulent chicken cooked without even water, deliciously seared in its own juices. We had to have this cookware!
So, with the idea of "well, we're investing in our health and in our future" we ordered it. Of course, we looked up reviews online as soon as we got home and read that it wasn't the greatest stuff, but at this point, I was committed. I was waiting for my stainless steel, seven layer bridegroom of cookware to come to my doorstep and sweep me off of my feet and into better health.
It arrived 10 days later, all shiny and new. I immediately went to the fridge, grabbed a few ears of corn and tried to recreate one of the dishes I had seen our masterchef/salesman create at the Fair. I succeeded in burning the pan. A good deal of elbow grease and some stainless steel cleaner, AM got the burn marks out. It was then that I decided to read the directions...
Now that we've had it for a few weeks, I am learning to cook again. I am learning to cook with less water, less oils. I am learning the true flavors of food. Chicken without any seasonings is amazing! Tonight I made pork roast (which I cut into slices) roasted on the stovetop with onions and garlic. I used the drippings to make a delicious gravy without any butter that would have been worthy of biscuits and gravy, had we had any biscuits.
Now, I want to learn to really cook! I want to take cooking classes, and learn how to make foods that make the mouth water. AM bought a few "low sugar" cookbooks, to help us on our way and I've marked the recipes for salmon, steak diane with cremini mushrooms, fluffy omelets with avocado. It all looks really great!
In the end, my satisficer instinct wasn't much off with this purchase. So far, even though I bought it on a whim, I seem to have had a bit of the maximizer instict with me too. This cookware is supposed to last me the rest of my life. With the quality of it, and learning how to cook right, I have no doubts that I will test that claim.
Here's to our health!
Love and Lollipops,
ToryLynn
P.S. If you don't burn the heck out of it, it cleans up incredibly easily too!
Showing posts with label new start. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new start. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Episode 49: What's in a name?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet, so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes."
Juliet said it best. A name is just a marker that is chosen for us at birth, something that our parents choose for us, something that we don't really think about, because we think it is out of our control. If I change my name, I will still be the same perfect person that I am. And so, as Juliet requests of Romeo, I may doff my name.
As we grow up, we identify with our names, we become attached to them, for the most part. As a woman gets married, in subservience to her husband, she changes her name to his, allowing him to dominate her nomenclature and taking away a part of her orginal identity, melding herself with him. He does not take her name, and stays the same person, not allowing himself to be subjugated, but instead becoming dominant. It's been this way in our society for at least a thousand years, and women have put up with it. Hell, I've put up with it. I changed my name when I got married. I thought it would bring me closer to my husband. Things change.
I've been thinking a lot about my name, and posted a bit to Facebook about a possible name change, which prompted this post.
Now that I am divorcing, I have a chance to go back to my original name. Actually, it's even drawn up in my divorce papers that I will return to Victoria H----, but I'm not sure about this. My name has become sort of a sticking point for me for as long as I can remember.
I was born Victoria H---- over 35 years ago. My parents decided to call me Vicky, which changed to Vicki when I got to kindergarten and was asked which way I would like to spell my name. (I think I simply asked which letter comes first in the alphabet and decided that was how I would spell my name.) I was Vicki H--- from kindergarten until my sophomore year of high school. As Vicki H----, I was mostly subservient, quiet, kind, polite, not much of a troublemaker... for the most part. I had my fits of teenaged rebellion, but Vicki H---- was who I remained for a very very long time.
In my sophomore year of high school, I grew very rebellious and changed quite a bit. This new identity that I created, this rebellious teenager who wouldn't take shit from anybody was called Tory. When I moved in with my grandmother briefly during my sophomore year, when asked what I would like to be called (Victoria was too formal), I told the teacher's Tory, and for three months, Tory went to Menlo-Atherton high school. Tory H----- was kind of a no nonsense kind of girl. I liked her.
I returned to Stockton and my name, changing it just a little bit to Vicky H----. The addition of the Y did little to change me and I returned to the girl I was. When I became interested in computers, my computer handle was Vixen, or sometimes Vixen Vipere, after a old device that my boyfriend and I had used in our writing. It was short for Vixantrayil, a name that I played with like a toy, a character I had created for a book that we had written together.
When I got married, I took my husband's last name as was tradition and was Vicky L---. We got married in 1998 and I stayed Vicky L--- for at least 7 years. Everybody still called me Vicky, at least family and friends, but I was in college and Vicky just seemed too..childish. Vicky, in my mind, was a cheerleader, a sorority sister, a little girl with pigtails and just wasn't who I was anymore. I attempted to get people to call me Victoria, which seemed much more professional and was the name that was put on all of my degrees. But my friends and family insisted on calling me Vicky... except one person.
With one person, I confident and powerful and I didn't take shit. He made me feel strong. For this person, I was Tory again. He called me Tory for a good five years, and I loved him for the confidence that he seemed to give me. A false confidence, I am sorry to say, for when he pushed me away, all of that confidence broke.
With a little time and healing, I knew that I could not go back to being Vicky again and Victoria didn't quite fit right. It felt a bit big for me, so I took the name Tory back and made it my own. I grew confident, I added my middle name to it and became ToryLynn online (although everybody still called me Tory). I grew into ToryLynn and became strong. I felt confident, I felt powerful, and I felt good finally being who I really wanted to be. I joined writing groups, I became a big part of the writing community on Second Life for a while, and I felt like a better person. I had found my power.
Unfortunately, as I gained my power as ToryLynn, Vicky was being left far behind with my husband. I grew apart from him as I pursued my creativity and my power. I feel bad about doing that, especially today. Now, I am leaving him. It's not like I suddenly stopped loving. It is that I grew up and became a different person.
So, now this new person needs a new name. In some societies, you are given a child name, something that your parents and family call you which is a personal name just for them. When you grow up in this society, you are given a new name by an elder, or are asked to choose your own, something that represents you. This new stage in my life is giving me a chance to choose my name and become a new person. The strong, confident, beautiful woman that I know Ican be am.
I am reluctant to return to H----- as I don't want to be the child that I was before I got married, and I don't want to keep my husband's last name, since I have outgrown that as well. I consider changing it to McGregor and becoming Victoria McGregor, which would look good on a book jacket, and Tory McGregor, which sounds awesome, and very ethnic to me. Back to my Scottish ancestors, honoring my blood. Another option is Victoria French, my grandmother's last name. Both are options which I find interesting, which I think are good.
I will try on both for the next five months, and make my decision once my divorce is final. I will give it a lot of thought.
Until next time, I am just
ToryLynn
Juliet said it best. A name is just a marker that is chosen for us at birth, something that our parents choose for us, something that we don't really think about, because we think it is out of our control. If I change my name, I will still be the same perfect person that I am. And so, as Juliet requests of Romeo, I may doff my name.
As we grow up, we identify with our names, we become attached to them, for the most part. As a woman gets married, in subservience to her husband, she changes her name to his, allowing him to dominate her nomenclature and taking away a part of her orginal identity, melding herself with him. He does not take her name, and stays the same person, not allowing himself to be subjugated, but instead becoming dominant. It's been this way in our society for at least a thousand years, and women have put up with it. Hell, I've put up with it. I changed my name when I got married. I thought it would bring me closer to my husband. Things change.
I've been thinking a lot about my name, and posted a bit to Facebook about a possible name change, which prompted this post.
Now that I am divorcing, I have a chance to go back to my original name. Actually, it's even drawn up in my divorce papers that I will return to Victoria H----, but I'm not sure about this. My name has become sort of a sticking point for me for as long as I can remember.
I was born Victoria H---- over 35 years ago. My parents decided to call me Vicky, which changed to Vicki when I got to kindergarten and was asked which way I would like to spell my name. (I think I simply asked which letter comes first in the alphabet and decided that was how I would spell my name.) I was Vicki H--- from kindergarten until my sophomore year of high school. As Vicki H----, I was mostly subservient, quiet, kind, polite, not much of a troublemaker... for the most part. I had my fits of teenaged rebellion, but Vicki H---- was who I remained for a very very long time.
In my sophomore year of high school, I grew very rebellious and changed quite a bit. This new identity that I created, this rebellious teenager who wouldn't take shit from anybody was called Tory. When I moved in with my grandmother briefly during my sophomore year, when asked what I would like to be called (Victoria was too formal), I told the teacher's Tory, and for three months, Tory went to Menlo-Atherton high school. Tory H----- was kind of a no nonsense kind of girl. I liked her.
I returned to Stockton and my name, changing it just a little bit to Vicky H----. The addition of the Y did little to change me and I returned to the girl I was. When I became interested in computers, my computer handle was Vixen, or sometimes Vixen Vipere, after a old device that my boyfriend and I had used in our writing. It was short for Vixantrayil, a name that I played with like a toy, a character I had created for a book that we had written together.
When I got married, I took my husband's last name as was tradition and was Vicky L---. We got married in 1998 and I stayed Vicky L--- for at least 7 years. Everybody still called me Vicky, at least family and friends, but I was in college and Vicky just seemed too..childish. Vicky, in my mind, was a cheerleader, a sorority sister, a little girl with pigtails and just wasn't who I was anymore. I attempted to get people to call me Victoria, which seemed much more professional and was the name that was put on all of my degrees. But my friends and family insisted on calling me Vicky... except one person.
With one person, I confident and powerful and I didn't take shit. He made me feel strong. For this person, I was Tory again. He called me Tory for a good five years, and I loved him for the confidence that he seemed to give me. A false confidence, I am sorry to say, for when he pushed me away, all of that confidence broke.
With a little time and healing, I knew that I could not go back to being Vicky again and Victoria didn't quite fit right. It felt a bit big for me, so I took the name Tory back and made it my own. I grew confident, I added my middle name to it and became ToryLynn online (although everybody still called me Tory). I grew into ToryLynn and became strong. I felt confident, I felt powerful, and I felt good finally being who I really wanted to be. I joined writing groups, I became a big part of the writing community on Second Life for a while, and I felt like a better person. I had found my power.
Unfortunately, as I gained my power as ToryLynn, Vicky was being left far behind with my husband. I grew apart from him as I pursued my creativity and my power. I feel bad about doing that, especially today. Now, I am leaving him. It's not like I suddenly stopped loving. It is that I grew up and became a different person.
So, now this new person needs a new name. In some societies, you are given a child name, something that your parents and family call you which is a personal name just for them. When you grow up in this society, you are given a new name by an elder, or are asked to choose your own, something that represents you. This new stage in my life is giving me a chance to choose my name and become a new person. The strong, confident, beautiful woman that I know I
I am reluctant to return to H----- as I don't want to be the child that I was before I got married, and I don't want to keep my husband's last name, since I have outgrown that as well. I consider changing it to McGregor and becoming Victoria McGregor, which would look good on a book jacket, and Tory McGregor, which sounds awesome, and very ethnic to me. Back to my Scottish ancestors, honoring my blood. Another option is Victoria French, my grandmother's last name. Both are options which I find interesting, which I think are good.
I will try on both for the next five months, and make my decision once my divorce is final. I will give it a lot of thought.
Until next time, I am just
ToryLynn
Monday, November 28, 2011
Episode 43: Back to (a new) life
I had planned a different blog post for today, but I forgot what it was. Anyway...
I have to get back on track. Thanksgiving week really screwed up my diet, and so now, I have to do something about it. I have to do something about my life. I have to something about my EVERYTHING! LOL
Ok.. so.. I have six months until my divorce is final. That is six months to get myself started on a routine, develop some good habits and start making myself healthier and happier, as well as help those around me be healthier and happier too.
I do a lot of complaining to other people about my own problems. I also do a lot of gushing to other people that I am in love. It just happens that way. It is because that is what is on my mind at the time. It's not that I don't listen to other people's problems, and it's not that I don't try to help them if I feel that I can do something for them, but I spend a lot of time talking about myself, and I think I need to stop doing that. I'ts very selfish. This is just something that I've noticed about myself. Now, of course, my blog is different. My blog is very selfish and I can be selfish here... because it is my blog. I try not to post anything *too* personal here, or rather, not something that everybody in my life knows about (or at least should be caught up about). I try to post here about my thoughts, but I won't put in details about private stuff, and I try to make sure that I don't get in trouble here. I have paper journals for writing out stuff like that.
But now, I have six months. A time frame for a goal. I think I like that idea.. a sort of deadline for a new life. I'm thinking about joining the Saturday afternoon Stitch n' Bitch group at my local Panera. I'm thinking about maybe going back into therapy for a while, just to have a professional help me work through stuff. (I have been off my pills for a few months now and I'm feeling incredibly stable. Amazing what growing up can do for your emotional state). I have more time to myself, to lesson plan and grade and work on becoming the best damned teacher I can be (in spite of my students). I know that I want to finish a novel in the next six months and start editing it for possible publication. I need to start writing fiction again... not some inane drabble about my life.
I feel refreshed.. renewed. Peaceful.
I know I can do this. I have the strength to do anything. I can pull my friends and loved ones along with me into this new life too, if they want to come for the ride.
Ok.. my ten minutes of writing for the morning are done. Breakfast is eaten (granola with soy milk and banana), and I have to go start a new day at school. Three weeks until Winter Break. Five weeks to pack up my old place and find a new one. I can live with those timelines.
Peace love and happiness to all!
ToryLynn
I have to get back on track. Thanksgiving week really screwed up my diet, and so now, I have to do something about it. I have to do something about my life. I have to something about my EVERYTHING! LOL
Ok.. so.. I have six months until my divorce is final. That is six months to get myself started on a routine, develop some good habits and start making myself healthier and happier, as well as help those around me be healthier and happier too.
I do a lot of complaining to other people about my own problems. I also do a lot of gushing to other people that I am in love. It just happens that way. It is because that is what is on my mind at the time. It's not that I don't listen to other people's problems, and it's not that I don't try to help them if I feel that I can do something for them, but I spend a lot of time talking about myself, and I think I need to stop doing that. I'ts very selfish. This is just something that I've noticed about myself. Now, of course, my blog is different. My blog is very selfish and I can be selfish here... because it is my blog. I try not to post anything *too* personal here, or rather, not something that everybody in my life knows about (or at least should be caught up about). I try to post here about my thoughts, but I won't put in details about private stuff, and I try to make sure that I don't get in trouble here. I have paper journals for writing out stuff like that.
But now, I have six months. A time frame for a goal. I think I like that idea.. a sort of deadline for a new life. I'm thinking about joining the Saturday afternoon Stitch n' Bitch group at my local Panera. I'm thinking about maybe going back into therapy for a while, just to have a professional help me work through stuff. (I have been off my pills for a few months now and I'm feeling incredibly stable. Amazing what growing up can do for your emotional state). I have more time to myself, to lesson plan and grade and work on becoming the best damned teacher I can be (in spite of my students). I know that I want to finish a novel in the next six months and start editing it for possible publication. I need to start writing fiction again... not some inane drabble about my life.
I feel refreshed.. renewed. Peaceful.
I know I can do this. I have the strength to do anything. I can pull my friends and loved ones along with me into this new life too, if they want to come for the ride.
Ok.. my ten minutes of writing for the morning are done. Breakfast is eaten (granola with soy milk and banana), and I have to go start a new day at school. Three weeks until Winter Break. Five weeks to pack up my old place and find a new one. I can live with those timelines.
Peace love and happiness to all!
ToryLynn
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