The Cow Keeps Jumping Over the Moon

There was this chef my junior year of pastry school that would every so often pull out my friends and fellow classmates to tell them that they didn’t belong in this profession, they were not meant to be pastry chefs. I struggled in his class, the stress got to me and I was always waiting for him to say- “Allie Dow, you are not meant to be a pastry chef, you don’t have what it takes”. But it never came. And sometimes I wish it would because then the stress would be gone, but I was really happy to have the assurance that I was better than I thought. Getting my advanced degree in pastry arts was all part of the plan, my big life plan.

I was 15, and sitting in gym class watching a tape on proper swimming practices when I decided to write out my long-term life plan. I’m not a detail person or a planning type, I’m the big picture kind where I can see what I want in the future, but I don’t always know the details to how I will get there. So there I was with my trapper keeper open, writing out a list that went like this:

1. Go to school to become a pastry chef

2. Go to library school as a backup

3. Be a food writer (I once told the cutest boy in school [the football captain who called me iMac, because I was as smart as an apple computer] that this was my lifelong goal to impress him. He wasn’t impressed.)

4. Become rich- naturally

5. Live in a big city where I can have an indoor swimming pool.

6. Prove everyone that doubted me wrong!

7. Meet man of dreams (which at the time was Rider Strong of Boy Meets World), travel a lot, have a small wedding, eventual children

8. Make a difference in life.

9. Keep learning, laughing and living (seriously that was the end of my plan).

Now there were 10 parts of the plan, but the other one as I recall, not only did I meet but is not worth putting up here for you all to see. You can imagine, I was 15, I had to be somewhat silly.

Overall, I never veered from this plan; I’ve doubted it, tried to change it, but I knew myself then just as much as I do now. At 15, I was writing food critiques for school papers, and dreaming of big things while also working in the library. My life in that essence has always made sense, unlike that nursery rhyme about the cow jumping over the moon. No cow can jump over the moon, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve taken it to mean something else. I am that cow (not in a self-insulting way) jumping over the moon, impossibly determined to live among the stars. Impossible things happen all the time, whimsically yet amazingly.  I graduate next weekend and I’m moving to the big city. Already three (four) parts of my plan have been met.

The cow keeps jumping.


P.S. If you wrote out a list of things to do in your life, how many have you met?

P.S.S. That was me way back, I feel so old and different looking at it. Therefore, to be vain, I put a newer one up. Bahahaha.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Cow Keeps Jumping Over the Moon

  1. nicole says:

    aww i LOVED RYDER STRONG!!! sigh..he was soo hot!!!!!! lol.. im so glad you are getting your list done!!!!!!!!!! 🙂 🙂

  2. Darrah says:

    OMG Boy Meets World is on the TV right now!!! My list reads similarly and includes extensive travel plans and excludes library dreams. My dreams have changed slightly since well it was actually elementary school when I decided I wanted to be Julia Childe. I found that I love cooking so much that I don’t want it to be my work. So I am using my innate people pleasing skills as a Hotel Manager instead and I LOVE it. And after work what do I do….I cook, 🙂 Ever want to come over my kitchen is always open.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s