Happy New Year!

I have spent the better part of the day catching up on blogs and reading every one's end of the year recap and you have all made me feel like a complete waste of oxygen for not posting one. So, here I go, vaguely against my will. Oh, guilt, why do you work so well?

This year has been eventful to say the least. I spent a year in culinary school, with only a few months ahead of me before graduation. This experience has changed who I am. I never thought I could love food more, but each day I find that I can. Each time I taste something I have never tasted. As huge, life changing decisions go, this was a good one. And 2010 was the year that I finally realized this is exactly what I want to be when I grow up. A chef. 

I have met so so so many wonderful people through school, work, and even the Internet. I have discovered that the support from my old friends through this crazy time is more motivation than I ever thought possible. I have found that even when I fall off the face of the planet for a year, the people who love me are still there and giving me pictures of Justin Bieber's crotch for Christmas. True story.

I have fought to hold on to the relationship with the boy through all of my late nights and moodiness and general unpleasantness that is me at all times; to find and us that includes the new me. Just last night I got a text that said he got food to make breakfast in the morning and to wake him up when I got home for a back rub. I melted, right then and there, in the 32 degree walk-in. We are going to be OK.

We brought Neil Catrick Harris into our home, changing the dynamic of our house in a way that has me wondering how we ever lived without that little shit. 

I have cut myself, fallen down the stairs, burned myself, and abused my body in the name of my career more than any other time in my life. And I have never felt better. (Other than the 2nd degree burn on my arm. Oh, bacon grease.)

I have learned to trust my instincts, not to be afraid of spontaneity. Just a few days ago, I walked into a salon I have never been in and told them to cut off my hair. It is the best haircut I have had in 5 years. Over thinking things gets me in trouble.

In 2011, I graduate from culinary school and I turn 30. And I can't fucking wait to see what else the new year brings.

Happy New Year Everyone. Stay Safe. Be Happy. And drink some champagne for me. Or a lot of champagne for me. Yeah, that one. A lot of champagne.

Merry Christmas Boys!

I would show you a picture of Neil with his present, but it was catnip and he is high as balls and won't come out. And, yes, Kobi is wearing a hoodie. Stop judging me. He gets cold.

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Why all churches should ban me

The boy and I finished up Christmas shopping early and headed to our local favorite cuban restaurant for some Dos Equis before meeting my dad for Christmas Eve service at his church. Don't worry, I invited my Dad.

I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday full of laughs and inappropriate stops at the bar.

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Letter to Myself

Dear Erratic,

NEVER EVER EVER take on 30 posts of anything, because 15 posts in you will want to kill yourself and everyone around you. Mass murder is never the answer.

Also, don't be so hard on yourself. Because, you know, you are. Stop it.

And for the love of god, IF YOU HEAR SARAH MCLAUGHLIN, CHANGE THE CHANNEL. You cannot own anymore animals before it becomes hoarding. 

Kisses!

Also Erratic

Rainbows and shit.

Heh. Today was change, right? This is change:

http://edition.cnn.com/2010/POLITICS/12/22/dadt.repeal.crowd/

Things like this happen and my heart is in my throat. My eyes well up and I just want to scream. A part of me wants to roll my eyes; we should have been here years ago. The other part of me is so happy that we are here. Call Obama a socialist, fine. I don't fucking care.

I am sure that people said horrible things about Lincoln. And Woodrow Wilson. 

One day we will figure it out. One day we will realize that no human being deserves to be less than any other. One day we will figure out that every single human being in this world is worthy of equality. No exceptions.

Change

Change is hard. And to list something I want to change about myself is even harder, because my instinct is always to say EVERY SINGLE THING. Not that I don't love who I am, but who doesn't see a bigger better version of themselves? I want to get better at balancing my life, I am never home, never see the boy. I need to figure out a way to have an awesome career and have time for him. But, that isn't even possible until I graduate from school. 

I want to work out every day. My job is a pretty big workout on it's own, but I want to do more. I forgot the feeling of that physical exertion and how good it feels. My lazy desk days are over and I don't want to go back.

Most of all, though, I want to not be scared to change. I spent so many years stagnant. I want to be able to make huge decisions and quit my job and go to culinary school and not have 412 panic attacks in the process. 

So, while change sucks, it is also exciting and I need to remember that it doesn't always have to suck.

Bradshaw!

I met Bradshaw today. I can't link to her blog because I am posting this from my phone, but if you don't know who I am talking about, you really haven't been paying attention.

It was pretty awesome. There was beer and laughs and random scarf attacks. I was SO scared it would be awkward and that was the last thing it was, not counting the normal amount of awkward I bring to any situation. I had fun, a lot of fun. Two and a half hours went by before I even knew it. I am so happy we decided to have lunch!

Also...she made me miss St. Louis. And I now require that she come to Ohio to visit me immediately. I am high maintenance like that.

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Testing

I installed an app for my phone so I can blog anywhere! Anytime! This may be exciting only to me because I have been drinking alone in the airport. Airports are boring. So, you know, testing and shit.

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Raise this, bitch.

I got a raise! I got a raise!

I had my first review at the new restaurant and it was a really, really good review. I have potential and what it takes to make it in this industry, apparently. I think I needed to hear those words because I almost cried when he said them! I am a hot mess, people. Hot mess. It's lack of sleep. Please note the posting time.

A lot of the conversation about the review was about my attitude and how I need to lose it. I was called moody and unpredictable. I laughed. Out loud. Probably not boding well for me changing my attitude. I mean, you guys know by now that I am a crazy person, right? That I am pretty negative, right? Well, apparently positivity is in the cards for 2011. Psht. We'll see. I am going to try out over the top positivity. Like, OVER THE TOP. I have been toying with it for a week or so, since I was told I was positively negative. There is a lot of dramatic smiles and frantic waving. I am bringing in the over the top compliments when I return from vacation. And the voice goes up an octave. Good times for all.

So...long story short, I had a good day. And I got a 10% raise to go with it. 

I will be out of town for the weekend, so I am going to be MIA. I know, you are all holding your breath waiting for the conclusion to the 30 posts of truth that lasted 412 years. I'm sorry. Please don't let the suspense kill you.

Pregnancy

I think I might someday want children. I do. But, I am not ready. My life is too chaotic and I am still far too selfish to give everything to a child, the way that I should.

Having said that, if I found out I was pregnant, I would keep the baby. I would do my best to be the best damn mom I can be. I would love that child more than anything. 

Everyone always says that you are never ready to have children, but I don't believe that to be true. I believe I am capable of raising a child, but I think that in a few years I would be much better at it. In the meantime, I am going to actively prevent pregnancy until I feel that time has come.

What's the best thing going for you right now?

School. Hands down, school. I feel like I have finally found my direction and am headed towards the career I was meant to have. Whatever that may be. 

I have a lot of good things going for me, though. I have amazing friends and family. The boy has been incredibly supportive through this whole life change. I have three evil pets that I love dearly. A home over my head, a car to drive, my health. You name it. Things are pretty damn good right now. And picking one of those things isn't fair. I guess the newest thing, the thing that I haven't had for years is school and my culinary career. 

Have I ever thought about giving up on life?

No. Never. Not even for a second. I have, however, wondered what my funeral would be like, but doesn't everyone do that? 

Here's the thing...my life has never been so bad that I have considered suicide. Shitty things have happened to me, things I still deal with today. But, never so shitty I felt I couldn't go on. The ONLY way that I would consider suicide was if I was terminally ill. I think that everyone would consider that, though. Even in that situation, I am not sure I could go through with it. 

These posts keep getting shorter and shorter. I apologize. But, dammit, I am going to finish this bull shit! Just, you know, half-heartedly.

Why I think I am alive today.

I skipped the playlist one because, frankly, I don't care. I couldn't think of someone I could make a playlist for because NONE of my friends have the same taste in music that I do, so they would hate every playlist I put together. And I just didn't feel like doing it. And it's my blog and I'll skip if I want to. Yes, this just turned into a temper tantrum.

So, I am alive today because I am alive today. I mean, this is just a stupid question. I have never considered suicide or been close to death in anyway. I have been sick enough to wish I was dead a few times, but not seriously. So, reasons I am still alive.

1. I have not been hit by a bus.
2. Aliens did not abduct me and things did not go horribly wrong during the anal probing.
3. I did not become a suicide bomber.
4. I did not trip and impale myself on anything.
5. I did not strangle myself a little too hard during sex.
6. There was someone there willing to shove the needle into my heart (yeah, Pulp Fiction)
7. I did not get gunned down at a toll booth (yes, now I am just stealing from movies)
8. Snape didn't cast the killing curse on me.
9. I did not run upstairs instead of out of the house when the call came from inside the house.
10. I'm not dead

Something I wish I had done

Easy. Travel. I wish I had gone to Europe and South America and India and Canada. I know I still have time and I plan to make this happen. It just seemed so much easier 10 years ago when I had no responsibilities. No mortgage or pets or bills. So, yeah. Shortest blog post ever.

Something I wish I hadn't done

This is bitter sweet for me. I have always wished that I didn't drop out of Ohio State when I was 18. I have always wished that I followed that through and got my degree in criminal psychology. However...I am not sure where that would have led me and it is hard to wish away the life I have now. I was young and stupid and way more into smoking weed than I was college. 

But, I am happy with my life. I am happy that I am just months away from graduating from culinary school. I am happy that I am becoming a chef. If I had graduated from Ohio State with a degree in criminal psychology...I would be working for the police force in some way. A very far cry from what I am doing now. And much less of a good fit. A fascination with serial killers does not a cop make. Yes, I just said that.

I think everything happens for a reason. I think that I was lost and lacking ambition for a reason. It led me to work my ass off for the man for years, realizing that I do not ever want to work for a corporation again. It led me to culinary school, to my locally owned, locally operated organic restaurant. It led me to find satisfaction in a career I never expected.

So, while that is probably my biggest regret, I think it was also one of the best things to ever happen to me. 

Car Accident

Those of you that have been reading along with everyone who is doing this little game, I am going to say about the same thing.

My best friend gets in a car accident, but we got in a fight an hour before it. What do I do?

I go to the hospital. I sit by my friend's bedside. I cry. I apologize. I hug them. I love them. I bring flowers and stuffed animals and balloons and trashy magazines and crossword puzzles. 

The thing is, the fight was one moment in what is likely years of friendship. It was one disagreement. It doesn't define or change anything. That would be stupid. And if it was that kind of fight? A fight that you can't come back from, my answer is the same. You see your friend through this and you revisit the issue. If you still can't come back from it, you part ways. But, you never ever ever ever ever EVER walk away when someone you love needs you. 

On a totally unrelated note, why do all military personnel want to be on Wheel of Fortune? I mean, statistically speaking, there are a lot more military personnel than any other occupation. This baffles me. 

Drugs and Alcohol

Am I the only one who is moderately sick of this 30 days of truth thing? Because I am. I feel like I haven't said anything all that real in, well, 30 posts. Which is the opposite of what is supposed to happen, right? On to the next...

I don't really care about drugs and alcohol. I mean, as far as people using either. I don't care. Do it, don't do it. I drink. I have dabbled in drugs in the past, but am pretty much an alcohol only girl these days. I can only handle one vice at a time, people. And I already have alcohol AND butter. I think that anything in excess is dangerous, but I also think that each person is different. There are people who drink every single day and are functioning members of society. I think once you stop functioning you should seek help. Nobody has the right to tell you what you can and can't do. They only have the right to choose to be a part of your life or not. 

Drugs and alcohol aren't bad. People are bad. I understand that addiction is a disease, but each and every person with that disease chose to use for the first time. And they choose to relapse. They are choices. This is kind of a fucked up view, especially since I know people who I truly believe can't help themselves. Life is made up of the choices we make. Things don't just happen to us, we make them happen. Or allow them to continue to happen. Will power sucks. I don't have much of it, admittedly, and I deal with the consequences of it. It is this knowledge, and a lack of desire, that has kept me from ever touching "hard" drugs. 

On the flip side of that, I know people who use cocaine recreationally. Let's be honest, the restaurant industry is fueled on cocaine and caffeine. I will always be the person downing cup after cup of coffee and never be the person doing lines in the bathroom. That's my choice.

I know that it is an apathetic take on drugs and a year ago, I probably would have felt differently. But, the bottom line is that drugs are going to happen and as long as it isn't affecting me or putting me in danger, I could care less what the people around me are doing.

Religion and Politics

These are two fairly safe, unemotional subjects, right? Jeesh.

I admire people who are capable of blind faith. I am not one of them. I am a see it and believe it kind of person. I don't trust easily and I don't believe anything unless I have some facts to back it up. I have no problem with the concept of religion, but I have a very serious problem with the things that are often done in the name of religion. My father belongs to a non-denominational church that performs commitment ceremonies. They are very liberal and I feel very comfortable there. I support their charities and am more than willing to go to church services with him, despite not believing in God. I think that religion can do so much good, that it can bring people together in a way few other things can. I just wish that people wouldn't take it too far. That they would make it an important aspect of their lives instead of an all consuming obsession. I wish that people who had faith could see their God(s) as benevolent and loving, not condemning and hateful.

I think politics are linked to religion in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Separation of church and state has long been forgotten. I enjoy politics and the political process. I think that most of this country is apathetic and unaware of what is going on around them, myself included. I wish this wasn't the case, but it is. I am not going to go into much more detail because this could be the longest post ever.

Vote. Be a part of the process. It is important.

Gay Marriage

I think that it is extremely rude to think that I have any right to say who can and cannot get married. I don't have that right and either does anyone else. If two consenting adults want to get married, so be it. If those same two people want to have children, they should have children. If they want to adopt a child that needs a home, they are better people than I am. If they want the ability to make decisions regarding every member of their family, they should be allowed to do that. They should get health insurance and baby albums and anniversaries. 

I don't really understand who the fuck people think they are telling someone they love the wrong person. I am not saying that people do not have the right to disagree with some one's lifestyle. They have the right to live the lifestyle they want with whomever they want. End of story. Judge people, fine. Think that homosexuality is wrong. Whatever. But, what happens when we go too far? What happens when it's not just gay marriage, but interracial marriage? Remember when that was illegal? 

Two men or two women getting married hurts nobody. Absolutely nobody. So, what the fuck is the problem?

A book I read that changed my view on something

Before I talk about the book, I would like to say that I am having a shitty shit day. I slept like crap last night, so I am tired. Then in my kitchen lab, I picked up a screaming hot sauce pan that somebody set down without the courteous towel on handle to indicate it was hot. It ripped all of the skin off my fingers on my right hand. And blistered. All of the blisters popped during my shift at work. It was awesome. THEN I had yet another allergy to yet another chemical at work, and my hands are covered in hives and look like I had hand transplants from the stay puff marshmallow man. I am buying stock in fucking hydro-cortisone and benadryl anti-itch spray. BITTER, PARTY OF ONE.

Anywho...the book. The Unhealthy Truth. I was raised in a fairly healthy household. With a diabetic sister, I still to this day rarely eat a meal that does not contain a starch, protein, and vegetable. I skimp on fruit, admittedly, but usually get that in the form of smoothies at work. I get the food pyramid and I get how to eat a balanced diet. I often choose not to use this knowledge, but I contain the knowledge. Someone recommended this book to me and I read it on a whim. It lead me to Michael Pollan's books and an entirely new view of food.

I am not going to preach to you. I would be extremely frustrated with someone trying to shove this information down my throat too. I will just say one thing - the single most important factor to our own health is the food that we eat, good or bad. Isn't it important to know where this food comes from? I think that it is.

So, check out the book or don't. It is geared more towards mothers, but the information is sound. If you aren't a mom and are still interested, start with Michael Pollan. He has some pretty damn good things to say too.

Something or someone you could live without.

THE PHRASE "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID." I DO NOT EVER WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE PERSON UTTER THAT PHRASE AGAIN. EVER. 

I am not sure if it is some weird restaurant industry thing or if this phrase just happened to become popular around the time I entered the restaurant industry, but stop. Please. Stop. 

"Man, it is hot in here."

"That's what she said."

"I have a headache."

"That's what she said."

"I can't find a whisk."

"That's what she said."

That is not what she mother fucking fuck said. Nobody thinks it's funny. It has been funny, say, if you are discussing meatballs and say "I think your balls are too big" or something of that nature. Haha. That's funny because she said balls. Please entertain me with more of your devastatingly charming sense of humor.

It's not funny when you say it in response to every single phrase that I utter, therefore, making it not funny ever. Again. Ever.

In case you were wondering, also not funny...

• TMI 
• Making a "W" on your forehead and saying "Whatever"
• Adding "izzle" to anything
• Saying text language out loud (OMG, LOL, for example)
• The world chillaxing. Just, no.

Let's just all talk like grown-ups and not like mentally retarded giraffes. Deal?

Seriously. (That one was for you, C)

Something I can't live without.

I am leaving the someone out of this post title because, frankly, I am sick of saying over and over again that I don't feel that way about people. 

Anywho...the thing I could not live without is books. Truly. I use books as a way to escape from reality, a way to kill time, an outlet for my imagination. I don't just read books, I fall into them. I have been known to stay up until 4:00 am reading because I couldn't put a book down. I have never tried to live without books, so I am sure I am capable of doing it. But, dammit, I don't want to. I love my pets, the people in my life, my job. I need books. I need that release into a world that isn't mine, contemplating other people's problems, crying at their losses and cheering at their success. 

A lot of people love movies this way and I just don't really care for movies all that much. I don't watch them over and over like I read books. Television doesn't really entertain me, I am almost always doing something else while it is on. I rarely sit in front of the television and watch it. With books, I imagine what the author is describing. It seems to easy to just see it in front of me.

My Kindle is well used and I will always love the smell of a library book. I will always choose physical books over electronic, although the convenience does lure me more often than not. 

I have read the Harry Potter series more times than I am willing to admit. I love books from High School English like Catch-22 and Invisible Man. I recently fell in love with Stieg Larsson's books, although was slightly upset when I found out the movies were subtitled. Watched the first one anyway. I just bought The Origin of the Species and am so excited to read it. 

The only book I have ever put down without finishing is Angels and Demons, because, seriously, it reads like the obituaries. I finish everything I start and very very rarely do not find some quality I like about a book.

I honestly think that my life wouldn't be the same without books and it is not something I am willing to live without.

Baby Giraffes are my hero.

It's like the boy doesn't know I am going to immediately scream "I WANT A BABY GIRAFFE" as soon as I see this picture.

You're welcome. Now you all want a baby giraffe.

Yes, that is my intro to the letter I am supposed to write to a hero who let me down. Here's the thing...people let you down. Everyone eventually lets you down. And that is OK. That is life. Nobody is infallible or perfect. I don't have a hero, per se. I have people I look up to for certain reasons, but it's not like any one person is ideal to me. There is not a person whose life I admire so much as to call them a hero. I mean, we could delve into the fantasy world here and I could name fictional people, but that's not really the point, right? The point is to say that X person in my life did Y and now I am disappointed because I expected X to be better than that. Meh. That's not fair. A hero to me is someone who does the right thing and still remains true to themselves. A hero is someone who sacrifices everything for something or someone else. A hero is someone who stands up and says yes when everyone else is saying no. I am not going to be let down when that person gets drunk and pukes on their shoes. Or dings a parked car with their door. Or calls off work when they really aren't sick. 

People have faults and people let you down. That's life. Being able to forgive the let downs is heroic. Being able to overcome the bad and still love the good is much more important than idolizing someone because they fit some stereotype of heroism. 

(Now scroll back up and look at the baby giraffe. See - I'm not heartless!) 

Can't. Believe. I. Am. Posting. This. Nonsense.

Hey, you guys...I had a weird day. So, this is not 30 posts of anything other than how Erratic had a crazy fucking day. Most of it was self induced stupidity because I have not slept since Tuesday. 

So...fairly normal day full of fairly normal things. Then I get to work. And it was like someone slipped me acid.

1. I cut my finger on a knife. That was laying on a table. By rubbing my finger against the blade while wrapping cheese. Seriously.

2. I stabbed a chicken. With a different knife. On accident. Just, kind of, stabbed it. People should not give me knives when I have not gotten adequate sleep. (Note: the chicken was dead)

3. I cut my finger open trussing a chicken. Blood. Rope. Yeah. (Note: it was a different chicken)

4. I ran into, that I remember, a wall, the rotisserie, multiple coworkers, and the Hobart. The last one was with my head. Just ran right into it. Been working there four months. It has always been there.

THEN! Have you seen "The Middle"? I don't really like it. But, the kid what whispers cracks me the fuck up and today at work somebody did it! I looked over and she was mumbling to herself that she hated when she couldn't say words. Queue scene.

Erratic: What word can't you say?

Weird Girl: Pork and Cheese

Erratic: Like a cheese flavored pork or a pork flavored cheese?

Weird Girl: No. Pork and Cheese.

Erratic: I just keep hearing Pork and Cheese. Spell it for me.

Weird Girl: Pouss...I don't know how to spell it.

Other Dude: Are you trying to say Portuguese?

Weird Girl: YES! (AND THEN THE BEST THING EVER HAPPENED...She put her head down and whispered...pork and cheese.)

Erratic: I know a dude from Portugal that is hearing this story. There is just no way around that one.

Other Dude...Hours Later: Remember when weird girl couldn't say Portuguese. (Queue hilarious laughter)

I really hope that wasn't a "you had to be there" moment, because I just peed a little typing it.

So, then I left work and was driving home and LITERALLY FORGOT TO TURN. Like, just didn't turn. Almost drove off the road. Because I was too tired to remember to turn the car. Wasn't dozing off. Eyes were wide open. Just forgot to turn. Rumble strips seriously saved my life.

THEN. I get off at the exit that I almost drove off of and my entire road is closed. Four lane road, double lane. Closed. This means...prepare to judge me...I HAVE NO ACCESS TO FAST FOOD. Except McDonalds which I am over. I have no food. I just spent an 8 hour shift on my feet with absolutely no food and I was starving. STARVING. And could not get food. Like, the path to make it happen would have been ridiculous for 1:00 am. 

I would like to state for the record that I KNOW IT IS BAD FOR YOU TO EAT AT 1:00 AM. Please stop telling me this, universe. I get it. I shouldn't do it because Oprah and God said so. But, you know what, I am fucking hungry. And I am losing weight. SO SUCK IT UNIVERSE.

Anywho...I came home and made organic boxed macaroni and cheese. After spending hours in my CLASSICAL FRENCH COOKING SCHOOL. Escoffier literally jumped out of his coffin and punched a baby. As the noodles were boiling, I glanced at the refrigerator and saw this lovely note Tini left me when he stayed over the weekend:

I chuckled, grabbed the milk, put it back in the fridge, grabbed the heavy cream and literally said, as I was pouring it on the macaroni noodles "this one's for my homies." Then I swore to never be my friend because I was such a tool. Then I mentally high-fived Escoffier and vowed never to tell anyone about any of this. I fail at self vows.

Neil Catrick Harris approved. Note: I let him do this long enough to take a picture. I AM PART OF THE PROBLEM. Then I sprayed him with a water bottle.

P.S.I sincerely hope that this post makes sense. I am not even going back and rereading it. I am that scared of what I just wrote.

P.P.S. At what age do the 1:00 AM terrorize everything in a 100 mile radius kitten crazies end? Because, for reals, he just tried to amputate my foot.

P.P.P.S. I am going to bed. Please still love me tomorrow.

A band that has gotten me through tough times

I know, two in one day. But, I have the day off. I have to use the time that I can. So, here is my letter to a band that has gotten me through some tough times.

Dear Pearl Jam,

You provided an outlet for my teenage anger and showed me that all of those feelings were normal. While my friends were listening to Dave Mathews Band and getting stoned, I was drinking Vodka and screaming "Porch." I have never been a glass half full kind of person and have always hated music that promoted holding hands and swaying. Just not my thing. You guys gave me music that spoke to me.

When I was 16, my best friend thought I was a lesbian because the lyrics to "Black" were written on my comically over-sized desk calendar. "Her legs spread out before me, as her body lay still" became a running joke. "Rearview Mirror" is still my breakup song of choice and can only be played at deafening volume. "Corduroy" will always and forever be my favorite song. I have a song for every single mood.

"Not For You" - pissed

"Wishlist" - pensive

"Off He Goes" - sad/lonely

"Indifference" - failure

You get the point.

As I have gotten older, the meaning of the songs have changed and my love has grown. Not only are you a great band, but you are good people. Unique people. People that do what they think is right and stand by the people they believe in. People I would love to sit and have a beer with.

I will always want to do Eddie Vedder, no matter how old he gets.

Kisses,

Erratic

Something people never compliment me on.

My patience. Dear Lord, my patience. You can't compliment someone on something that they have absolutely zero of. Can't get a knot out of a necklace? I will probably try for, oh, a nanosecond and then just deem the necklace a lost cause and never wear it again. Can't get the dog to learn to shake? I will work with him for, oh, a nanosecond and then give up entirely declaring him too stupid to get it.

I want to be patient. I really, really do. I want to be that person that spends an hour getting the knot out of the necklace and then proudly wears it as a sign of their accomplishment. I want to be the person who spent hours teaching the dogs tricks. I will never be that person. Ever. 

I also want things RIGHT NOW. Say, for example, I am aware that there is a present for me in my immediate vicinity. I will follow the giver of the gift around saying "give it to me" until they either give it to me or render me unconscious. I don't want to wait until the appropriate time. I want it right the fuckity fuck now.

The part I really hate about my impatience is it keeps me from learning new things because I don't have the patience to get good at them. It's why I have never played sports. It is why I have few hobbies and why I rarely try new things. I wish I was different, but it takes patience to change. Kind of a catch-22.

Something people compliment me on

People compliment me on weird things. Like, my hair. I have naturally curly hair that I pretty much just let air dry most days. Since it is naturally curly, it is also kind of oily, so I have that shiny hair thing going on too. So, yeah, my hair. I have had men tell me I have great hair. Straight men. 

I personally hate it. I would much rather have straight hair, but I make do with my white girl afro.

I also get compliments on my skin a lot. I don't wear make up really at all. (I know, I am just the image of fashion with my air dried hair and make-up-less face.) I hate my skin because my face is always red. ALWAYS. I don't have high blood pressure or any other valid reason for always having a red face. My mom is the same way. Fucking genetics.

It's funny how the things that people envy are also the things we hate about ourselves. I would much rather someone say I have pretty eyes than nice hair, but, nope. Nice hair and skin is about it, kids.

Someone you need to let go.

All right...I am just skipping this one. I have answered it, for the most part, in the last two posts. 

However, I want to talk about something else. I need all of your advice. Everything that has happened with my sister in the past year started last Thanksgiving when she had two diabetic seizures in my house. That is why I was so paranoid when she was vomiting at her bachelorette party, which led to the horrible things she said to me, which led to her throwing me out of her wedding, which led to all of the hurt and heart break that has come over this past year. If you need background, go here. I went to the wedding and I smiled and I supported her and gave a bad ass maid of honor speech. I did everything I was supposed to. 

I have gotten no apologies and this isn't the first time this has happened. This is a lifetime of her treating people like shit and everyone just taking it because she is sick and has had a hard life. It is her calling only when she needs me and never being there when I need her. It is getting so excited to get a voicemail from her only for it to be a half-assed birthday wish followed by never returning my call. I have not spoken to her or had any contact with her since May.

I called my mother today to say hi and catch up. She mentioned that my sister was planning on coming to Ohio for Thanksgiving. I had no idea. I called my dad and asked, who confirmed that was the case. He then asked if she could stay with me. I discussed it with the boy, who adamantly said no after everything that has happened this year, and decided it would be better if she didn't. When I told my father this, he was pissed because it was going to cause drama (she always stayed with me in the past) and he already had enough family drama going on. He understood and said he would take care of it, but rushed me off the phone with barely a good bye.

So, am I being selfish? Am I the ass hole here? I feel like an ass hole. But, I know how this ends. It ends with me bending over backwards to make her comfortable while her dog shits in my house and she trashes my guest room and is ungrateful and mean the whole time. She will snap at everyone around her and make us all feel like shit. I will be in tears at least once. But, my dad has enough stress. So, do I sacrifice myself so that he has a better Thanksgiving weekend? Do I sacrifice the sanity of my home to help the sanity of his? 

My cousin and her husband are staying here with their dog. Is it fucked up to say she is welcome when my own sister isn't? Not in my home, not really in my life. At least not more than superficially. It isn't about love, I love my sister more than myself. But, I don't really like her. And she hurt me, profoundly. I don't hold grudges, this isn't about forgiveness. It is about self preservation. 

Is it selfish to choose me?

Someone I didn't want to let go or just drifted.

This one is easy for me. Probably the easiest of these I have posted. While I have a very different view of love than most people, it does not mean I love any less. And I love my sister, I really do. But, I also know her. I know who she is and I know that who she is will never care to have me in her life in any real way. Yes, she will hug me at Christmas and pretend like everything that happened with her wedding didn't hurt me. But, she won't call me back or return my emails. She won't come visit me just because she misses me and she won't be there for me when I need her to be.

I didn't want to admit this to myself, to come to terms with the fact that she will never be the sister I want her to be. I can't change her and I know this. Every single day I miss her and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. 

I still wish every single day that it was different. 

Someone who has made my life hell or treated me like shit.

I am in this ethics class at school right now and the professor is kind of brilliant. He talks about how our brains are trained wrong. For example, we have been trained to respect other people's opinions and that an opinion can't be right or wrong. So, he said it was his opinion that the best way to stay physically fit was to blindfold yourself and run across the highway at rush hour. That is just ridiculous and obviously wrong. That is the best way to get dead, which is the opposite of physically fit. Opinions can be wrong and while we shouldn't go around shouting that people are wrong, we should educate ourselves to know when someone is wrong, rather than just respectfully accepting what others say. 

He also said that the when we want someone out of our lives, an ex or a toxic friend, we say we never want to talk about them and never want to see them again. Except we keep talking about how we don't want to talk about them and we keep asking people if they are talking about or to them. Our focus becomes that person even though our goal is to eliminate them from our lives. It made a lot of sense to me because I do just this. 

So, while I thought about people that who made my life hell or people who treated me like shit, why talk about them? Why continue to let them affect me?

That may be a cop out and I'm sorry. But, I think it's a pretty awesome idea to just let those people fade away. 

A Break

Remember that one time where I said I had a shit ton of emails? That number is up to 2024. I can't stay on top of anything. I read blogs from my phone, making it stupid hard for me to comment and I feel like an ass hole. I get text messages at hours that are not appropriate for most adults to be awake. I often don't return them. Emails? I skim them and look for familiar names. I hope nothing important hits my spam filter. I log on to Twitter and I have thousands of new tweets. 

It feels like social media is stabbing me in the face.

Don't get me wrong, I am not giving it up. I am not throwing in the towel. 

There are people who read this blog who have come to mean something to me. Some of them I think have already given up, which is fine. I am not going to hold that against anyone. The content here has been, well, less than adequate. But, this space still means something to me. And those of you that are still out there...I am hoping you'll stay. 

19 weeks until I go on my externship. 19 weeks until classes end and my culinary career begins. I promise to share all of that with you. I promise to tell the hilarious stories that are my life. I promise not to let this die.

So, I took a one post break from my 30 days of truth (ha - gotcha!) to tell you that.

Happy Halloween and trick or treat or some shit. If it weren't for Facebook, I wouldn't even know it was Halloween. And that is just plain sad.

Someone who has made my life worth living.

Here's the thing about me - I don't feel this way about people. I love the people in my life more than I can explain, but I know that I can live without them. I realize that nobody truly thinks they will die if they lose someone, but that's not what I mean. I would be fine. Sad, yes. Heart broken, in fact. But, over time, fine. 

This is what bothers me about romance novels, love stories (ahem, Twilight), and chick flicks. That kind of "love" to me is kind of pathetic. Maybe I am jaded and the fucked up one here. I am fine with that. I really am. I just do not think it is healthy to have your entire self wrapped up in someone else.

Let me back up a little bit to explain why I feel this way.

When I first moved to Ohio, Krackle and I became very close friends and were roommates for years. When we first met, I wouldn't go to the grocery store by myself. I wouldn't do anything by myself. I was the neediest person in the world, but I probably had some form of social anxiety and was chronically shy as a child. Sometimes she humored me, sometimes she didn't. But, mostly, I learned something from her independence. 

Skip forward a few years and a long term relationship of mine ended, leaving me living alone. In fact, alone for the first time in my life. I had no one to go to the grocery store with me, no one to be there for every little thing. I was forced to get over it and found out that, for a long time, I wasn't very true to myself. I hid facets of my personality that I thought were uncool. I did a lot of things for other people's approval. I never really did anything for myself. 

So, I got to know me. Just me. I spent a lot of nights in tears, lonely. I spent a lot of nights on the phone with people making small talk and keeping them from their own lives. But, I also spent a lot of time doing the things that I really love. Like, reading books about dragons and elves. I dove into politics, finally finding a voice for what I believe. I became me. At least the me I am today. 

There are people in my life that I want there, that I choose to love and, hopefully, they choose to love me back. And, I suppose, in some sense of the word I need them, but I prefer to think of it as wanting them. I don't want to be needed, I want to be wanted. Therefore, I feel that way about the people I love. 

In answer to the question at hand, I make my life worth living. I need myself. I want everyone else to be there with me, laughing, crying, and going grocery shopping. But, in the end, it's just me making it all worth living. Everyone else is just a really fucking awesome bonus.

Something I hope I never have to do.

There are a lot of things I hope I never have to do.

Eat a cockroach.

Hug a clown.

Meet Ryan Seacrest.

Kill a hobo.

To name a few. But, my biggest fear, the thing I hope I never ever have to do is to take someone off of life support. I know that it is unlikely that will ever happen. But, the thought of having to make that decision paralyzes me. I am a very pragmatic person, so I would make a decision based on what the doctors recommended. I know that I could do it. And I would be able to handle making the decision. I wouldn't sit and think what if, it's just not the way that I am. I would be more than capable of deciding and would probably be the best person in my family to do it. 

But, I do not ever ever ever want to. Ever. I cannot emphasize that enough.

Something I hope to do in my life.

I want to go to Italy. And Paris. I want to eat at El Bulli (although, it is closing in two years and it takes at least that long to get a reservation) and The French Laundry and Frontera Grill. I want to go to Napa Valley and walk amongst the vines of Chateau Montelena. I want to travel and eat and drink and see the world.

But, most of all, I want my own restaurant. I want to design the menu, the bar, the chairs, the logo, even the front door. I want to create beautiful food from local, sustainable ingredients. And pair that food with the perfect wine. I want people to remember my food as their favorite food. I want regulars, that come in every Thursday for the pork chop special and a glass of sauvignon blanc. I want people to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries there. 

I know that most of these things will never happen. But, if you asked me two years ago if I would be in culinary school working 50 hours a week and falling more and more in love with food, I would have told you to fuck off. I never would have guessed I could pull this off. I never would have guessed I would have the balls to do what I did. Sometimes I still don't believe it. Some days I wake up and in the haze of sleep, think I am waking up to go sit in a cubicle for 8 hours. I always smile when I realize that I will never sit in a cubicle again. 

So, one day I hope to own my own restaurant and to travel the world. A year ago I hoped just to get into culinary school, before that I hoped to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I hope in a year I can knock one more thing off the list.

Something I have to forgive someone for.

There are a handful of people that I put in the category of kill on sight. People that I hate for things they did to me. People that have hurt me in a way that I will never forget. I am not sure if I have forgiven them or not. I don't want to ever see them again and if I did, I would likely avoid them. I wish them no harm. I don't think about them or the incidents surrounding them. At least not often.

The first is my stepfather growing up. He was violent and mean. But, there was good in him too. He loved my mother and he loved my sister and I. When I think of him and the turmoil that surrounded my life when he was married to my mother, I only have pity for him. I don't forgive him or not forgive him. I feel sorry for him and for the life that he has. I feel sorry that the whole situation happened.

The second is an old friend who betrayed me and used me. He lied to me and to people I love. He is an alcoholic and a drug addict and a pathetic human being. Again, I just feel sorry for him. And maybe I need to forgive him a little, because that incident was much more recent in my life. 

There are some ex-boyfriends and the boy who sang "Fido the Wonder Dog" to me everyday on the way to elementary school. 

But, I don't hold grudges. If you do something I need to forgive, you are probably no longer in my life. And if you are, it's a pretty safe bet I have both forgiven and forgotten. Life is too short to spend it resenting people.

Unless we are talking politicians. Then, holy crap, I have a lot of grudges out there.

Something I need to forgive myself for.

I am very hard on myself. I often run conversations over and over in my head, trying to think of ways that they could have gone different. Things I should have said. Things I shouldn't have said.

There is one conversation that haunts me. I have gotten in a lot of fights with people and said some awful things. But, I have always apologized, I have always done my best to make it better.

I was living with Krackle at the time and working with her as well. Things were tense, we were spending too much time together and I was frustrated. She would spend the night at her boyfriend's house (now her husband) and not tell me. Or come in at 4:00 am and wake me up. It was all stupid. I had no right to be mad, I was just being a 21 year old who didn't have the maturity to sit her down and talk things out.

So, one night we went out drinking and I blew up at her on the way home. I don't even remember the exact words I said, but they don't matter. It was a long time ago. She left and my boyfriend and I got into a huge fight because he took her side. Everybody did. I was out of line and drunk and immature and an asshole.

I tried to talk about it later and she just brushed it off, saying obviously I needed to get it off my chest. I never got to tell her that I didn't really mean it. I never got to tell her that I have no idea why I said those things the way I did.

We are, obviously, still close. And we have never spoken of the incident since. But, I have never forgiven myself for almost ruining a friendship that has lasted over a decade. She is my oldest friend.

I know she has no idea I still think about this or that it affected me that much.

I regret saying those things to her and am so happy that she was able to forgive me. I love her with all my heart and my life would not be the same without her.

Something I love - AKA I already suck at this

Something I love about myself is my passion for food and my love for discovering new food. I know it sounds obvious, seeing as I am in culinary school, but it's really not as common as I thought it would be. I love to try new things. I have eaten more new foods since starting culinary school than I thought I would and will continue to do so. I love that my palate is changing so much and how I can taste the tiniest nuances in seasoning now. I don't really have hobbies. Food is my hobby. And that sounds lame because who wants their hobby to also be their work? This kid does. 

Some of my best memories are of food, a pork chop before seeing Wicked. Chipotle mashed potatoes paired perfectly with beer. Eggs Benedict with amazingly creamy, tangy hollandaise. My first bite of free range, grass-fed bacon. 

I have several people in my life who eat because they have to. They don't love it, or hate it. It is sustenance, it is life. It is not about taste. They make a sandwich for lunch and are satisfied. I put herb aioli on my sandwich. And arugula. I try different kinds of cheese and toy with the idea of smoking my own turkey. I dream about crusty, toasted sourdough bread that is warm enough to just barely melt perfectly aged smoked Gouda over home smoked turkey.

I spend hours staring at cheese and reading magazines on food. I marvel at perfectly plated food and strive to make every plate I make perfect. When I see chicken on sale, I think of the hundreds of ways I can prepare it, plate it, and who I can have over to eat it. 

I love my passion. I love that I love food the way that I do. I thought that being surrounded by food day in and day out would make me lose some of that passion, but the fact that is has only grown makes me know I am exactly where I should be. I love that too.

Something I hate.

A lot of bloggers I read are doing this 30 days of truth thing. And while I do not normally do this shit, I have been struggling for things to blog about while feeling the itch to write. Maybe this is the kick in the ass I need.

I have a disclaimer, though. I can't do it 30s day straight. A lot of my weekdays, I leave the house at 9:00 am and do not get home until 2:00 am. I love you all dearly, but I barely know my own name by the time I get home. Not to mention a daily truth. So, I will not be doing 30 days of truth, but 30 posts of truth. I will try to double up on days I don't work and such. I don't want this to be a year of Erratic posting from a list. Seriously, that would just be fucking dumb.

So, here is the list:

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.

Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.

Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.

Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.

Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.

Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.

Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.

Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.

Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)

Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)

Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.

Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.

Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.

Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?

Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.

Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.

Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.

Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)

Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.

Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?

Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.

Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

Today, obviously, is the first post.

I hate my temper. I do not lose my temper often, but when I do, I lose complete control. I yell, I throw things, I say things I don't mean. I lash out and hurt whomever the anger is directed at. A significant amount of the time, I don't remember all of the events that took place when I do lose my shit. It's like blacking out from drinking, but totally sober. It is scary.

I have truly lost my shit less than 10 times in my adult life. But, sometimes even my minor temper moments are embarrassing. I always speak my mind and rarely hold back what I am feeling. So, if you are being a complete fucking ass hat, well, I'll probably tell you. And I probably won't sugar coat it. Some people find this to be a good quality, others think I am mean. 

Honesty is important to me, and I will always be honest with people I love. But, there is no reason for me to be an ass hole too; to lose my temper and say things that are unnecessarily mean. 

A series of unrelated things

I haven't blogged a lot lately because every time something happens that is blog worthy, I come home and type it up and it is four sentences. And when I try to drag it out it reads like a report on Woodrow Wilson that you didn't feel like researching, so you used a thesaurus to make it longer. Then I just save it in my drafts and mope for a while because my life is not interesting enough to blog about.

So, here is some random shit that I felt you all should know. Or that I wanted to write about. I will separate them with little stars because I'm cool like that.

***

As most restaurants do, we employ non-Americans of a Spanish descent. Since English is not their first language, or really even second, it makes the labeling in the walk-in pretty interesting. I have found the following:

blubary (blueberries. it contained strawberries)

slaes turki (sliced turkey)

vegtable stok (vegetable stock)

wash japs (this one totally made me picture tiny, clean Japanese men in a lexan. not so much jalapenos)

budah saus (Buddha sauce)

tortixxa chip (tortilla chips)

***

6:00 pm is dog feeding time in the Erratic household. I am almost never home to feed them, so I often don't feed them on time because I forget. It seems that the dogs have learned this. I was writing a speech for my public speaking class and just typing away, when all of a sudden all three animals were lined up in front of me. In order from largest to smallest. Just staring at me. No whining, barking, no noise. Just staring. I look at the clock...6:00 pm on the dot.

I drew you a picture.

I am not really sure why I am faceless. I think I just got lazy. 

***

I have hives covering the backs of my hands and the tops of my feet. I am hoping that someone in the medical profession reads this, because I have no health insurance right now and WebMD is no help. Thank you, WebMD for diagnosing my hives as hives. WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU?

***

Am I the only person who thinks that T.V. this fall sucks? Also, does the universe know that it is October? Because the highs have been in the 80's and my house is approximately the temperature of the sun. And I can't deal anymore. I was pissed when it started to get cold, but dammit, I don't want to turn on the air conditioner in October. That is just stupid.

***

Thank you for humoring me on unrelated random thoughts day. Back to your regularly scheduled overuse of the word fuck.

I mean, just why would you tell me this?

For the record, this was the first time I have ever worked with coworker #1.

Coworker #1: I can't wait to go home and have sex on my couch.

Crickets chirping. Wide eyed staring.


Coworker #1: I mean, I'm married. I'm not a whore.

Erratic: I did not think you were a whore.

Coworker #1: Oh, you just looked really shocked.

Coworker #2: I think it was more the giant over sharing that shocked us.

About an hour later...

Coworker #1: I am having people over on Saturday if you want to come.

Erratic: No thanks.

Coworker #1: Oh, do you have plans.

Erratic: Nope.

Coworker #1: Then why don't you want to come?

Erratic: I don't want to stand all night.

Coworker #1: What? Why would you have to stand?

Coworker #2: She doesn't want to sit on your sex couch.

Coworker #1: I have other chairs! And we cover it with a blanket! It's suede, it would stain.

Erratic: You're doing that over sharing thing again.

So. Cold.

I have a problem. My name is Erratic and I hate cold weather. When the weather starts to turn, I can't get out of bed. I want nothing more than to stay curled up under the covers for hours, never facing the horror that is whipping off the covers and facing the ice cold winter air. Well, fall air in today's case.

I don't want to shower because I don't want the same freezing cold moment of getting out of the shower. I don't want to bundle up and leave the house, because I want nothing more than to curl up under a blanket and weep until spring.

This fall seems to be the worst in memory. I am 30 lbs lighter and used to sweltering hot kitchens. It is 58 degrees outside right now and I want to kill myself I am so cold. And my stupid finger? ACHES. As I am typing this, I am trying to use words that do not have "s" in them so that I don't have to use that finger to type.

AND I AM SO COLD. I can't even think I am so cold. 

I know I am being a giant wuss and need to just suck it up and remember I live in Ohio and we have four seasons and there is nothing that can be done about that. But I have no doubt, this is only the beginning of the winter whining.

I am now going to make grilled cheese and tomato soup and put on 12 pairs of socks and 4 hoodies until I force my body to get warm. 

Strange 10 Minutes

I had a very strange 10 minutes today. I mean, most of my minutes are strange because it is me and that shit happens, but today was extra strange.

I was almost out of gas because I live in my car and put gas in it more times in a week than I care to think about. So, I went to this little gas station in a bad neighborhood by school. I pulled up to the pump and popped the trunk instead of the gas cap because I am a giant dumb ass. As I am pumping gas and absorbing the horror that are gas stations in this neighborhood, out walk two guys in the nicest suits I have ever seen. OK, maybe not ever, but they were not from Men's Warehouse. They had very close cut hair and looked very intense. Not in a gangster way, in a way that they carried themselves with confidence and authority. So, they get in their Ford Focus (um, what?) and pull out of the parking spot. They then drive about 30 feet, park, get out binoculars and start watching a house that backed up to the gas station. In plain sight. Not even trying to hide what they were doing.

As I am staring at them, the gas pump clicks off. I look and it only put 10 gallons into my 12 gallon tank. I try to pump again, it is not having it. It will not fill my tank. So, I pull it out of the gas tank and go to put it back in and try again, when the pump beeps at me. I look over and it has spit out my receipt and says "thank you for shopping with us." Clearly the gas pump was telling me I was done.

THEN I call Big Jed to tell her this, because I always call her and tell her the weird stories of things that happen to me. The phone goes straight to voice mail and halfway through her greeting, it just says "press 1 to approve this message or 4 to delete and re-record." I was like, um, what? I didn't leave a message yet. So, I deleted and left her a message that I am hoping is now not her greeting. 

Finally, there was a guy on the highway going like 25 mph with his hazards on. I figured he was having car trouble. I go to pass the car, and you could not even see in the car. It was full of smoke. I am assuming of the pot variety. Or he was on fire. Definitely one of the two.

Happy Birthday To Me

Today I turn 29. This is the last year of my 20's. And I know, 30 is the new 20 or some stupid fucking bullshit that old people say to make themselves seem hotter. This is the only digital picture I have from before I was 20...and I am sure that smoke is a combination of both cigarette (quit a long time ago) and pot smoke.

There. Now you know what I looked like a decade ago. I was hot then. Fucking teenagers.

When I turned 25, I made a promise to myself. I promised myself I would graduate from college before I was 30. I will accomplish that. Every other "before I am 30" promise I will not accomplish. I am so completely OK with that.

Here is to the last year of my twenties. Here is to 29 being the new 19, even though 19 is way hotter and skinnier and definitely has less inhibitions.

You can't choose your family...

My niece, who is stunningly beautiful and wise beyond her years, posted the following today:

I'm never going to be perfect, and it's high time I stopped trying.

I will never, ever, EVER be the kid who can get called on in math class and answer the questions perfectly. I probably won't answer the question at all, actually,

I won't always look perfect. Hell, half the time, I probably won't even look good.

I will never be a size zero. (Thank god, if my hips were that small I would have no figure.)

I will always have a bit of extra weight on me.

I will always be less pretty than some girls. Than most girls, arguably.

I'm never going to be one of those girls who looks pretty when she cries.

I'm never going to be one of those girls who can arrive at school with her hair one way, in perfect order and never have to glance in a mirror to know it looks good.

I'm never going to be one of those girls that have boys after her.

I'm never going to be one of those girls who have the courage to say what they're thinking all the time, because I don't have the confidence to back up my courage. I'm too afraid of my peers, and I'm too afraid of being judged.

However...

I will always be one of those girls that can never stop dreaming and imagining.

I will always be one of those girls who will give you the answers to the English homework... Because I've had it done since the day it was assigned.

I will always be strong.

I will never, (ahem, from this day forth) let people get in the way of how I feel about myself.

Okay, never is a bit much. I will TRY not to ever let people get in the way of how I feel about myself.

I'm going to be one of those people that feels awkward in most situations. (At least until I pass through these silly teen years...) I feel awkward in my body. I feel awkward with my personality.

But, in being so awkward, I'm learning.

I will never stop learning.

I will always love and cherish the Harry Potter series. (This is a vow.)

I'm going to be one of those girls who loves things to an obsessive extent.

I will always love music that helps me.

Books will be my life.

I am always going to love my friends in a completely familial way, to the point where they're more like my relatives than my relatives are.

I will never stop being grateful for the people in my life.

I will always end up making my inspirational speeches and revelations sound corny.

My lists about myself and my life will almost always be disorganized, confusing and slightly out of order.

Always.

This kid? She has had a hard fucking life. She has had a mother who doesn't deserve her. She is an amazing, beautiful teenager who gets life more than I think I ever will.

She is contemplating coming to Ohio for college next year. I have offered my spare bedroom to her, until she finds her way and finds someplace she belongs. I hope she takes me up on it, because I barely know her.

Sometimes teenagers, just wow. Sometimes they blow your mind.

Balance

I am struggling to find balance. To balance what I want and being somebody that other people can have in their lives. Work and school are what they are. I can't change my hours, or the fact that I am at school 30 hours a week and work 40 hours a week. I can't change the fact that those two things are really the only things in my existence right now. They are all consuming.

The boy needs me to try to conform to a schedule where we are awake at the same times. We are home a lot, but one of the two of us is sleeping. I want to wind down with a few beers when I get home. I want to have time to decompress. I don't want to go to bed when I get home.

My friends need me to be available during normal hours, not at midnight. They need me to be able to meet them for cocktails and to catch up during times when it is convenient for them. I want to call them at midnight when I get off work and catch up. I don't want to call them when I am driving from one to the other or on break at school. I want to use those times to decompress. To have some me time before I am thrust into situations where I am required to communicate.

As a blogger, I want to tell you all the stories, but this industry is so fucking terminology centric. Like, I had a funny story the other day about mire poix and I started blogging it, but after I spent a paragraph explaining what mire poix is, the story just didn't seem funny anymore. You all need me to be relate-able, to be someone who tells funny stories about work. Someone who can talk about my life and share with all of you.

I don't know what to do to change this. I don't know how to be this person anymore, but I really really want to be someone who can still have my old life and my new one. I want the best of both worlds.

It's a balance I haven't figured out and I apologize. To all of you, to my friends whether Internet or not. I am trying. I am not giving up this blog, I don't care if I do a terminology list on the side so you all know what I am talking about and can laugh along with me. I will figure this out.

However, something really cool is happening. Tomorrow night my class is preparing the meal for the American Culinary Foundation meeting here in town. I am really excited and completely plan on a post tomorrow full of pictures.

For the record, mire poix is the combination of onions, carrots, and celery (2:1:1) that is the basis for most sauces and stocks in French cooking. The whole point of the story was knowing that you need to cut your mire poix based on the cooking time - small for short, big for long - so you don't end up with mush. In hindsight, the story may not have been that funny. I laughed my fucking ass off, but it may have been a "you had to be there" kind of moment. I really just miss blogging.

My Cold, Dead Heart.

Someone told me today that my Facebook posts made me sound like I was about to slit my wrists.

You all get that I am happy, right? I mean, I am angry and bitter in general, but happy? I felt like everyone knew that. I have problems, but shit, who doesn't? It just took me by surprise, because, I mean, it's me. I am not exactly a positive, today is a beautiful day kind of person.

So, I posted this on Facebook:

I was told tonight that all my Facebook posts are negative. So, hearts and rainbows and shit. I fail at being positive, even though I am happy as hell.

Here are the responses I got:

My favorite is the my little pony. Also, I left Big Jed's picture up for your amusement. That shit is the funniest graffiti ever.