Dining in the Dark

Mummy
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey

The dark is good for all kinds of nocturnal endeavors - espionage, amore, murder - but have you ever considered dining in the dark?
A blind clergyman did, and opened the first dark dining restaurant, The Blind Crow, in 1999 in Zurich, Switzerland. Since then, restaurants where patrons dine in absolute darkness have opened all over Europe and the United States.
Menus are useless without light to read by, so diners order before going in, and in some cases, food is served by a wait staff that is either visually handicapped or completely blind.
This isn't such a foreign concept for anyone who grew up in suburban America. We all remember visiting those neighborhood haunted houses - set up in someone's garage to occupy the kiddies.
We'd feel our way through the darkness screaming as our tiny hands plunged into bowls of what we thought were brains, eyeballs and guts.
In reality, they were the products of our parents' imaginations and what was readily available in their kitchens - cold spaghetti for brains, frozen peeled grapes for eyes and warm pudding for guts.
To give an adult twist to the food that terrified us in our youth we've made edible versions for today's nocturnal diners - eyeballs, scarabs and mummy fingers.
Some believe that eating in the dark will heighten your senses, making the mundane new again. In the dark, the tongue's 10,000 taste buds start to see and feel the food, as well as taste it. Blind to its color, a cucumber is not only cool and crisp, but diners may experience an explosion of green hues as they chew in the dark. Feed them cucumbers with yogurt and cayenne, and their mind will be awash in a cacophony of colors — reds, greens, and whites. Depending on what food you choose, your meal could be the Pollock of dining.
I'm more of a Munch girl myself. Happy Halloween.
Here are some of my creations. For tasty food that looks spooky, try these recipes.

Googly Eyeballs
12 hard-cooked eggs, peeled and halved lengthwise
1 jar of pimiento spread
24 small pimiento-stuffed green olives
Remove egg yokes from egg halves; reserve yolks for another use.
Fill each egg center with about 1 tablespoon of pimiento spread.
Place olive (pimiento straight up) in the center of each egg. Press slightly.

Hairy Scary Scarabs
1 bag shredded coconut
1 can chocolate-covered almonds
Place almonds in a pan and place in oven on low heat until chocolate is tacky.
Heat a medium-sized, nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until hot. Add coconut and cook until coconut begins to turn golden, stir constantly.
Add browned coconut to warmed almonds. Turn the almonds until coated with coconut.

Mummy's Head, Fingers
1 bag of mini marshmallows
1 stick of unsalted butter
6 cups of crisp rice cereal
1 packet of medical gauze
1 package of dried cranberries
1 package of stick pretzels
pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon and cumin
1 cup of coffee
Take gauze and mix with coffee. Let sit.
Melt butter. Add marshmallows slowly until completely melted.
Add melted marshmallows, cereal and spices (to taste) together in small amounts until completely mixed.
Coat hands in olive oil or butter. Shape mixture into head shapes. For fingers, roll mixture between hands then push a pretzel stick into center. (Re-oil hands as needed.)
Take gauze, wring out coffee and cut it into strips. Starting at one end, wrap around oval to cover it entirely, leaving gap for "eyes." When oval is completely wrapped, unfold the end of the gauze slightly and press down. (Gauze will stick to surface.)
Place two dried cranberries in gap for "eyes" and press slightly to adhere. Repeat with remaining ovals. Can use larger cranberries for bloody nails.

Sometimes you've just got to jump

olivia2
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey

Sometimes you've just got to jump.

Each summer it would taunt me - in all its greatness and height - it was for the longest time the thing I feared the most.
I would stare up at it until resolve and the taunts of my peers finally forced me to face it.
Sucking in what felt like my last breathe, I would take hold of the rails and start to climb.
Each foot step would put more space between me and the ground. Something I was very physically aware of.
To distract myself, I would count each stair trying to hold back the terror that was ripping through my little body like a tsunami.
Finally at the top I would exhale. Trembling I would slide one foot in front of the other, tears streaming down my checks, until I reached the edge of the diving board.
Looking down, the terror would overwhelm me and I would stand there.
Sometimes, sobbing, sometimes just stricken like Lots wife, staring.
Inside my head, my voice would be saying, "It'll be ok, everything will be ok."
There was only one way down.
"Jump. Just jump," I would plead with myself.
Finally, I would.
After the first jump I could scanter up the stairs, without a care in the world, like every other child at the pool. I guess after being so close to the ground all winter long I would loss my "jump" legs and have to re-earn them each summer.
Life is like that ... when you wait too long, the fear starts to creep in; it plays havoc on your self confidence, your self esteem, your self worth.
Sometimes you've just got to jump.
For years now I've built up a wall of rules and regulations governing my behavior.
Let's face it: There was an appropriate way to act and an inappropriate way to act.
And I wouldn't be caught dead doing the latter. Not because I thought I was better than anyone but because I was afraid they wouldn't like me if I behaved badly.
But honestly it's been hard to get to know people when I've been so worried about being judged.
My fear segregated me and naively I thought ... I'm not sure what I thought other people would do ... .
While waiting, I filling my days with activities: knitting, crocheting, crafting, creating, volunteering, books and movies ... trying to fill the emptiness.
I tried to convince myself I was ok, that this fear was normal, that everything would be ok.
Standing in a girlfriend's bathroom, trying to justify it, I heard myself tell her simply, "I just don't trust myself."
I did have a propensity for dating men who didn't actually like me, so this made sense.
But it still didn't quell my desire -- to connect.
I have wanted, longed, in silence, until one day I find myself staring over the edge of the diving board again.
I realized that I had forgotten what human contact felt like. It was enough to drive a person mad. And mad I was ... the longing, the fear was overwhelming ... I longed for something that made me, frankly, nauseous.
I tried to explain it to my friends ... but it didn't make sense ... the uncontrollable terror. In social situations I would be fine until there was even a hint of interest and then I'd forget how to talk, stuttering like an imbecile I'd excuse myself, run, and hide. It was terrifying, it was embarrassing.

The voice in my head screaming the entire time, "What if I forgot how? What would they think of me? What if ... what if ... what if ... ?"
Sometimes you've just got to jump.
And hope that the universe catches you or at least a really cute life guard.

If not, you push yourself upwards, swim to the edge of the pool, climb out, and do it again.

Just don't wait three years until you do.

Me as a Simpson

me as a Simpson
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey

I like the simpsonizeme.com from Burger King better than the movie site. The picture looks so much more like me than the other one.