Tuesday, June 16, 2009

What's in a fridge?

Stuck in a state of bloggers’ block, my friend Peter suggested I write about the contents of my fridge and how they reflect my relationship status. I laughed, and realized that my fridge generally has two states: 1. a warehouse for outdated, mouldy, unrecognizable and possibly toxic food, and 2. empty (in both cases, cold). Nope. No parallels there.

And then it hit me. I approach my fridge much like I approach dating. I love the idea of a full fridge, stocked only with foods that are delicious and mostly good for me. I don’t, however, love the idea (or the reality) of grocery shopping or fridge maintenance. In my apathy, my fridge (and my diet) deteriorate.

Similarly, I want to find true and lasting love – the human equivalent of the fully stocked fridge. But I am less enthusiastic about the work required to get there. This likely explains why I have spent far more of my life single than in coupledom. I have little time or patience for those I feel aren’t “the one.” It feels like stocking my fridge with groceries I don’t even like and know are destined for the garbage (liver falls into this category).

There have been a few fleeting times (in spite of my lack of effort) I thought I’d found “the one” (often before even the first date and sometimes before the first ‘hello’ – I have a good imagination). In my mind, I created the perfect match (like spotting a glorious cut of steak in the grocery flyer and imagining how it’s going to taste before even going to the store). So far, reality has fallen short.

First of all, there’s resistance to following my grocery list of qualities and characteristics (and of course the requisite devotion to me). I am often left wondering:

“Did you even READ the script I wrote for you? Your line is: ‘My God. How have I lived up until now without you? You are the sun and the moon and the stars all rolled up into one passionate, fiery, shining light of my life.’”

In spite of my disappointment at the rampant liberties taken with this script on several occasions, I’ve realized that – like beer and yogurt – some people just weren’t meant to go together, and that’s ok.

The bottom line is, I’m not giving up on love (I am however, letting the script go). Hell, I may even give the fridge another chance. Because if love’s like the fridge (and everything else in life), it would seem you get out of it what you put into it.


  1. LMAO, Margaret. I think you must have been in my fridge recently. Oh, and in my head. The difference is that in my fridge there are vast quantities of random alcohol to take the edge off. If only there were the equivalent of a Subway for the ordering of fresh men, made-to-order with your "toppings" of choice... Sometimes it's just easier to pick something (or someone) up on the way home and be done with it... less effort... *sigh*

  2. My fridge is usually quite empty and I am happy with that. Every day I got to the market downstairs at 3pm to buy what I want for dinner. This is the precise time when the put out their exotic cheese samples (todays was a Guinness cheese from Ireland). I only wish they had wine samples too. (it is ok to drink wine at 3pm, right?)

    When I shop, I only buy the quantities I need to prevent dealing with moldy food left in the fridge. Honestly, I think the stocked fridge era was a bygone relic of our parent's generation.

  3. I love this. It is so perfect. And when you do find "the one" (if such exists) a little scripting CAN be helpful in some scenarios. I have asked Laurie things before, and then responded with "No, you answer should be..." And he complies and gets himself out of hot water. And I am happy, so we both are. It just doesn't happen on the first date! ;)