Monday, December 17, 2012

Merry Christmas

The person making my drinks tonight (me) needs to calm the fuck down and not make them so strong. Just because it is the end of the bottle does NOT mean you have to just finish it off. That is the opposite of what that means. It means make two weak drinks, not one really, really strong one. That was sort of just a letter to self. Possibly a warning to all of you.

So...the holidays. The holidays are always weird for me. I don't like them. I love Thanksgiving because my dad's whole side of the family comes in town and it is just this great weekend of catching up. Not so much this year. Which I understand. I so understand. There are babies and new wives and new families and I get it. But I was still sad. I missed that family time. 

Christmas is always about me going to St Louis before and hanging out with the family. All of my aunts come into town and we spend the weekend fighting and talking over each other and just generally being a room full of strong women who can't figure out whose turn it is to talk. Not this year. Which I don't understand as much...but still get. It's hard to travel from Texas to Missouri. It's a long trip. 

I am trying very hard to be forgiving of the total absence of family this year. Because, honestly, I am not mad at them. Not even a little. I am just sad that I don't get to see all of them. I am sad that the one time of the year that is supposed to be all about family isn't this year. I am still going home to St Louis and I will still get to see my sister and grandmother and mother and stepfather (and Bradshaw and her new boy!) 

I have to close the restaurant on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning I am making breakfast casseroles for a homeless shelter and going there to serve them Christmas brunch. Christmas night we are doing a traditional dinner at my dad and stepmom's house. Our tradition for years has been going out to dinner Christmas Eve, doing Christmas day at my house and then going to our favorite bar for bingo and friends. 

Everyone should spend Christmas Day at a bar. Playing bingo. It sounds kind of sad, but it is awesome.

It's not that I don't like change. I actually really like change. I like to mix it up a little. I just miss the family this year. I miss seeing the twins and my cousins and my aunts and my uncles and everyone. 

But! BUT! I get to go to St Louis and take FIVE WHOLE DAYS OFF OF WORK. And I get to relax and spend some time with the family that is there. And I get to spend Christmas Day doing something fulfilling and then having a lovely evening with my dad and stepmom. 

I need to un-bah humbug myself and just get the fuck over it. I know. But, I am pouty and stompy about the whole thing. I will get over it. 

I hope all of you have a great holiday, whatever it is you are celebrating. I may be MIA until after Christmas unless I randomly cell phone post from home. Be safe. I love you all.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Remove Head from Ass and Proceed

I have gone back and forth about writing about the tragedy that happened on Friday. I never shy away from a conflict, I suppose, so here goes.

Everyone can agree on one thing; this was a senseless tragedy that could have been prevented. The reason that it could have been prevented is where everyone seems to disagree, including me and the boy. 

I think that this country has reached a point of sensitivity to a fault. Am I proposing that we all go back to being racist, sexist ass holes? No. No I am not. But, I think that we have become so sensitive that we are scared of rocking the boat. We are scared to say, hey, there is something the fuck wrong with that kid and someone needs to address it. Because that is bullying. That is picking on that kid. That is mean. And then that kid kills 27 people. 

As a country, we have become so politically correct we are not addressing major issues in our society. We are instead avoiding them. We absolutely need to love our fellow man. I truly believe that. And part of that is calling our fellow man out on their shit. I don't know if this kid exhibited any kind of mental illness prior to shooting up the school. But I can guarantee you that there is someone out there who sensed something was off. Somebody knew.

So, yes, lets address mental illness. Let's stop being scared to talk about it and just talk about it. Because it is real and it happens and sometimes it ends in the death of a lot of innocent people. Sometimes it ends in suicide. Regardless, it never ends in a pile of rainbows and unicorns. Let's start talking about it in a very real way. 

On the flip side of that, there is the media. Absolutely there were not people shooting up schools when my parents were kids. I was a senior in high school when Columbine happened and our school was locked the fuck down. Metal detectors were installed. You couldn't blink without somebody looking at you funny. It was a terrifying time. You know what else it was? A media sensation. Those boys were all over every single form of media all over the world. They were famous. To an extent, it was glamorized. I have no idea who the victims were in that shooting. But I sure as shit remember the names of the two kids who shot up that school.

People were angry that traumatized kids were being interviewed and I agree with that too. The media definitely needs to cover it. But, people with mental illness to this degree want the fame. They want to be plastered all over every newspaper and TV show. We have to figure out a way to make this about the victims, not their killers.

Lastly, and most controversial, I believe that gun control is a big part of the problem. Nobody, and I mean nobody, should be allowed an automatic weapon in their home. I even take issue with semi-automatic. I am not going to fight with anybody about this because I understand that everybody has their own rights to their own beliefs, just like I do. But, if you feel the need to have an automatic weapon in your home for your own protection, you are fooling yourself. Those guns are meant to kill. And I take issue with anybody owning anything for the sole purpose of using it to kill another human being. 

As a country, let's hug our kids and be grateful for what we have. But, let's also get our heads out of our self important asses and make sure shit like this doesn't happen again. 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Can Challenge

The boy and I were watching The Next Iron Chef: Redemption and it was the episode with the can challenge...every contestant got a can they had to elevate into a great dish. Through all cooking shows, I am yelling at the TV about the mistakes they are making, bad dish choices, etc. In this particular challenge, I was telling the boy what I would make with each can of food. So, he challenged me to put my money where my mouth was. He went to the grocery store and bought a can of food, took off the label, and tonight I cooked dinner with it. 

The rules were:

  1. Once I looked at the label, I had an hour and a half to go to the grocery store and cook the meal.
  2. I couldn't spend more than $25.
  3. I would be "graded" on a 100 point scale, 25 for time, 25 for cost, 45 for taste, and 5 for the use of cheese. Clearly I did not make the scale.
This was our trial run. We plan on inviting people over for future ones and maybe collaborating with other people. It doesn't always have to be a can, just a secret ingredient challenge. And honestly, it was a lot of fun doing it just by myself.

The boy documented the process in photos:



Can you figure out what it is?

Corned Beef Hash! 

So, I made a corned beef hash cake with onion, garlic and mustard and I served it with pan seared pork, cider braised cabbage, and a roasted apple bourbon sauce. 

Honestly...it was one of the best meals I have made in a long time. The boy gave it a 95 (due to lack of cheese) and said it was excellent. Now, most of you probably hear things like, oh, honey, this dinner is great from your significant others. The most I ever get is "it's allright." So, an excellent is a pretty big compliment around here.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Another Christmas first

Not sure why I am obsessively iPhone posting tonight, but couldn't resist a picture of the cat's first Christmas tree. I love how he looks like he is in awe. In reality, I caught the one second he wasn't chewing on the tree.

First Christmas

First Christmas tree in the new house! I am feeling less and less bah humbug by the day.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Looking in a mirror.

Two things you need to know in order for this story to make sense:

Monday nights I always work a double since it is our mid shift guys day off,  therefore allowing me to leave work late enough that the happy hour patrons are tipsy.

Our restaurant is right next to a gay bar.

So, I am walking out of work tonight, enjoying the lovely 70 degree weather (what the what????) and I see a guy kind of half stumble half walk out of the bar. This is an extremely normal thing and if there is one universal truth in this world it is that the gays LOVE me. I have over 10 facebook friends that are random gay people I have met once and become instant best friends with. I am not worried about this guy at all. We are standing at the cross walk and I hear him mutter something about the crosswalk and can he jay walk and is sort of having an entire conversation about the crosswalk with me?

Only he wasn't talking to me because I am not sure he even knew I was there. I was standing a good three feet behind him and at an angle where he would have to turn around to see me. There certainly wasn't any eye contact. 

The little walk guy comes on and he starts crossing the street and says aha! I could have gone or something along those lines. Only this time he isn't muttering. He sort of shouted it. He gets into the first car and I am at the back of the lot. He shuts his door and I say, out loud, "Crazy Mother Fucker. Who was he talking to." I did not see the bartender and kind of friend of mine across the parking lot who then replies. "Who are YOU talking to?"

Well, shit. I start laughing and we shoot the shit for a while and I get in my car and say, out loud again, "Is that how the rest of the world sees me? It is isn't it. Oh God. I look like a crazy person."

I then tweeted about it and apologized to the world on my behalf. Because holy shit, I am a crazy person.

Not as crazy as the homeless lady that stands in the middle of the street and screams at cars not to hit her. Yet.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

The song really doesn't end.

This is not going to be super long because my wrist is in a brace and it is hard to type. Why is it in a brace, you ask? I don't know. I just know that saute was my own personal hell today. And everyone wanted fucking fuck barbecue pork, the only thing I saute. Dicks.

I have recently picked up a weird habit. Some of you may call it a tick. I feel like that kind on The Middle who whispers things to his shirt. Which is hilarious. 

Cooking on a line does not require a whole lot of thought. It is muscle memory. Any chef or line cook will tell you, the day you are in the weeds for 3 hours is the day you add a new dish to the menu. Because you don't yet know the best way to make it. I found myself struggling with this and over thinking everything. My mind is always going a mile a minute and this was really making it hard to do my job. When I was working the pantry station it was just salad, salad, salad. You can't over think that. There is time for your mind to move a mile a minute. That is not true on a hot station where you have a flat top, grill, and saute. There is too much going on. 

So, I would let my mind wander. I would think about what I needed to do when I got home or something that happened earlier that made me laugh. This lead to me standing in the corner with a dazed look in my eyes NOT cooking food. Also a fail.

About 3 months ago I figured out the solution to my problem. I would recite a song over and over in my head. It was an accident that it happened, but I discovered that it worked. The problem with this is that I don't consciously choose the song. It stems from something someone says, a song I heard on the way to work, or whatever the pop station the pastry chef was listening to was playing. Sometimes it changes mid shift, but mostly it stays the same through the entire three hour lunch rush. Which is awesome on days that it is the song I hear on the way to work. It really sucks when it's not. Here are some of the songs that come to mind that have been three hours of slow torture:

  1. Moves like Jagger
  2. I Saw the Sign
  3. The Song That Never Ends (almost impaled myself on a knife this day)
  4. Anything by LMFAO
  5. Tomorrow (by Silverchair...that was a weird one that I can't place where it came from)
  6. Since You've Been Gone
  7. Summer Lovin' (Yes, from Grease)
  8. Umbrella
  9. It's Been a While (This was certainly brought on by someone saying that phrase)
  10. Crazy (We were talking about Alicia Silverstone and how crazy she has become and boom!)
I have thought about putting a reminder in my phone for 10:45 that would prompt songs I like. Because those days are AWESOME. Today's song was Isolation by Alter Bridge. I rocked out all through lunch. It was great. You simply cannot have a good service with The Song That Never Ends running through your head. You just can't.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

1000 ways I will force you to eat Kale.

My love of food has created a monster. I went to culinary school because I loved to cook. I didn't realize that I would fall into this black hole of what food is really like. I didn't realize that I would get slapped in the face with the reality of food in this country and be disgusted by it. I didn't realize the direction this would take me.

I want to teach people how to feed themselves. I want to teach people that there is more out there than processed foods. I want to teach people that living a life only eating fresh food and produce is not only possible, it is easy. I want to help people. Unfortunately, this has always been my problem. I want to help. I want to do something to change the world. I want to be Ohio's Jamie Oliver.

One of my coworkers walked into work with a bag of quinoa that he got at the food bank. He had NO clue what the fuck to do with it. He was going to throw it out, except he heard me talking about quinoa all the time and knew I could tell him what to do with it. And I did. And he loved it. 

I have been reading up on Vegan food and learning so much about it through my minion and the effects of eating meat. Eating one vegan (or even vegetarian) meal a day does so much for the environment. I tried to google actual statistics on this and failed miserably. So, just do what I say and all will be well. (Note: I don't even do what I say.) 

This is also all tied back to the urban homestead that I want to create in our new home. 

I sent several emails to the state of Ohio today asking for information on how much aide people get from the state, in terms of dollars per day. I have been working with a homeless women's shelter and a food bank to get information on what is realistic for these people. I have been actively trying to put all of this together and to do something with it. I want to teach someone who has $5 a day in food stamps (now called SNAP?) how to eat healthy on that money. 

I walk through the grocery store and see women dragging four kids with nothing but processed sugar and complete crap in their carts and I just want to sit them down and explain the repercussions of this lifestyle. I don't want to force anything on anyone. But, I want to teach kids that food is good. It is not the enemy, the result is not obesity. I want to teach parents how to feed their kids WHOLE foods. 

So, I am trying to make this happen. I am trying to figure out a way to teach people how to eat on $5 a day. It is going to be a lot of work and I am scared I am going to fail, but it is what I want to do. It is who I want to be. 

I love to cook great food. But I think my place in this world is teaching other people how to cook great food.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

I will not kill baby seals...unless they become zombies.


  1. I am going to win the power ball. Just so you know. And when I do, I will buy you all something. So, make sure to tell me what you want. As long as what you want isn't like a clubbed baby seal. I will not club a baby seal for anyone. 
  2. I went to the homeless shelter again today and then bought a woman baby formula because the price went up and she didn't have enough money. I am sitting pretty high on my helping people horse today. 
  3. My first ever Thanksgiving went awesome. I think I pulled off some pretty good food, which is good because it is my job to pull off good food. BUT I was still nervous as shit. Because that is how I do.
  4. I cut off all my hair. I do this every winter (??) and always grow it out in the summer. The problem is that I have to put my hair into a hat. And it is bob length now. So, I get this weird halo of hair that cannot be restrained, so after a lunch service I look like I stuck my finger in a mildly greasy electrical socket. What I am getting at here is that I am HOT. But I do love the new do.
  5. I am OBSESSED with The Walking Dead. Borderline creepy obsessed. In fact, right now, I am thinking to myself that I could be watching it instead of doing EVERYTHING ELSE. Like sleeping. And eating. And holding down a steady job. I can't really talk about how amazing it is because Pocket Pen and I are sort of watching it together until I skipped WAY ahead like an ass hole and I don't want to give it away. But, pretty much, all I want to do is watch it. OBSESSED.
  6. I am growing to not hate, but loathe facebook. If I can't figure out a way to block 95% of the ass holes on there, I may jump ship. I don't know how much more I can take.
  7. It took me a week of conversations and begging and pleading and renegotiating to get 4 days off work. It was painful. Everyone else just says, hey, I want this day. I get told I am screwing everyone over. I know they are just giving me shit, but over it. I need a break. I haven't taken a day off work since the last week of September. 2011. I AM EXHAUSTED.
  8. Speaking of work...or just life in general, I am super bummed lately. I don't know if it is the weather getting colder, that our big family holiday is over (we don't really do much for Christmas) or what, but I am crabby and depressed and also my entire body hurts like I am getting the flu. And everyone at work is super crabby too. I got into a screaming match today over cutting fries. FOR THE RECORD, HE SHOULD HAVE JUST CUT THEM WITHOUT THE ATTITUDE. See? Unreasonable and crabby.
  9. Rogue Dead Guy is my new favorite beer. Not really new. Just forgotten. Also it's called Rogue Dead Guy. Best. Name. For. A. Beer. Ever.
  10. One thing I can tell you about The Walking Dead...kill me if a zombie apocalypse happens. The boy pretty much told me I was the last person he wanted with him. I get super annoyed when the people are compassionate about killing the people they know that turn into zombies. Or spend too much time mourning them. It's war people, cut off heads and move along. Mourn at night, privately in your tent. Not in the middle of a field while your friends kill zombies so you can sob over your dead sister. Not cool. Also, I am a heartless ass hole.

Monday, November 19, 2012

It's all a giant, giant blur.

Day one, post restaurant week. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD IT IS OVER. I worked 76 hours in 7 days. Yes, that is about an average of 11 hours a day. And I am counting the three hours I was in the emergency room because I went back to work against medical advice. IT COUNTS. Today was my last long day until after this weekend. 

This one was bad. It went very smoothly from a customers perspective, but it was very prep heavy, so it was a lot of work behind the scenes, but the food rolled out fast, which is key. Overall a success. Everyone in my life is sick of me whining about what a hellish week it was, so I am trying not to make all of you super annoyed as well. But, dude. Fuck restaurant week. Here are some pictures of the food we ran.

 Butternut Squash Alfredo. The cool thing is that this is vegan...made with almond milk instead of cream. I am way into vegan food lately.
 Lamb sliders. Can't lose here.
 This is super out of focus? I have no idea why. It didn't appear to be when I took it. It is a brussel sprout salad with bacon balsamic vinaigrette.
 Pork Belly corn dogs. The boy asked me to make an order of these for him...he said it was the best corn dog he has ever had. The guests agreed.
 Lamb shank served with lamb stew. 
 Grilled, marinated shrimp with parsnip puree and etouffe sauce. 
 Beet and goat cheese risotto. I HATED the presentation of this dish. It looks like the squash is vomiting ..like those pumpkin pics that are all over the place around Halloween.
 Chicken served over house-made sausage hash and topped with a jambalaya sauce. Kind of a deconstructed jambalaya...except I hate the word deconstructed when talking about food. 
Cabbage salad with sesame dressing. This might have been my favorite thing. I ate my body weight in the scraps left in the bowl.

I promise to get back to normal blogging soon. Hopefully before Thanksgiving. This has been the craziest two weeks ever and I am so excited for Saturday (Go Bucks, Beat Michigan!!) I can't even tell you. Two days off in a row feels like a vacation. 

I feel like I lost all sense of reality outside of the restaurant. What have you all been up to? What's going on in the real world?

Monday, November 12, 2012

Rule #1: do not start restaurant week in the ER

Day one went not exactly as planned. I went into work at 7:30 to get ahead of the game and was fine. Felt fine, got a good nights sleep. All was well.

At almost exactly 10:00, the worst pain I had ever felt started in my lower abdomen. I thought it was just really bad cramps so I took some ibuprofen and hoped for the best. By 11:00, I was sweating and hunched over in agony. So, I bit the bullet, apologized profusely to my coworkers and drove myself to the ER. 

I was admitted pretty quickly and hooked up to an IV and given fluids and pain medication. The doctor came in to see me and wanted to do a CT scan. Based on where my pain was, he believed it was appendicitis or kidney stones, even though I did not have pain radiating in my back. At this point I called the boy and said it may be a good idea to head on down here in case I end up in an OR in the next hour or so. He showed up right after I got back from my CT.  (which on a side note, I have never had a CT, only MRI's. CT's win. They so win. They didn't even have to drug me to get me in the machine!)

Shortly after the radiologist came in and basically said I had nothing and good luck pooping. Which I didn't totally understand, but he started the discharge paperwork. Just as I was finished getting dressed, not ass hole unhelpful doctor came in and told me that by process of elimination, I was either really constipated (even though the CT did not show this) or I had an ovarian cyst that burst. He suspected the latter and prescribed me some Vicodin to get through the next few days. He recommended to take Metamucil three times a day just in case, but guessed it was the cyst. 

So, I returned to work because I felt completely fine. Until the pain meds wore off. I immediately called the boy and had him bring me more because I could barely stand up. I have never been in so much pain it caused me to sweat until today. Holy hell.

On my way home from work, I stopped to pick up the prescription for Vicodin and the following conversation happened.

Pharmacist: Ma'am, do you know how many of these to take a day?
Me: I don't really like taking pain medication, so I will only take them as needed. 
Pharmacist: Well, make sure not to take more than eight.
Me: (Blinking rapidly with my mouth hanging open) Um. OK.
Pharmacist: The wording is very unclear. Please don't take more than eight.
Me: I don't even know what to say to that. Um. I won't.
Pharmacist: I need your word that you will not take more than eight.
Me: You have my word. I will take only one at a time.
Pharmacist: Thank you, ma'am. Have a good day.

Just. What? Is there some rash outbreak of idiots who get prescribed pain meds and think that they should just pop the whole prescription at once and hope for the best? It was definitely the weirdest conversation I have ever had with a pharmacist. 

I hope all of you had a better Monday than I did. 

Day two has to get better.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

MIA

It's that time of year again! Restaurant Week! Today is my last day off until Thanksgiving...which I am cooking this year. Heaven forbid I should ever NOT bite off more than I can chew. So, I am going to spend this day out in the lovely fall weather, not on my couch blogging. I will try to post at least some pictures of the food we are doing over the next week and a half and definitely of the first Thanksgiving.

If you don't hear from me until after the holidays, you know why. 

In the meantime, we are doing vegan food every Thursday at the restaurant in an attempt to lure in a new group of diners. We really only have one vegan restaurant in the city, and they buy all their stuff premade. A few restaurants have vegan options, but really, the city isn't catering to this crowd. This was our feature last week, cauliflower steaks with a tomato coulis and balsamic reduction. I just think this is one of the prettiest plates of food we have ever done. 


Happy Holidays everyone. If you are travelling, safe travelling. If you are cooking, brine your turkey!!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

This is a very needy post...but all advice is appreciated.


  1. Neil is back to peeing on everything. We took him to the vet yesterday and got x-rays...no bladder stones. So, it is definitely behavioral. Anyone know how to psychoanalyze a cat? Because we are at a loss and kind of just want him to stop peeing on everything. And kitty Xanax, while hilarious, does not seem to be helping.
  2. I have a pet peeve about things like Jesus toast. Dude. It's a coincidence, it is not a sign from God conveyed on your toast that you are somehow more blessed than the average person. It is also not worth a crazy amount of money on eBay. So, we are watching the game on Saturday and a friend pulls out a picture from a fire that her store had and asked me what I saw. I immediately blurt out "death having dinner with a rabbit." Because, well, that's what it looked like. Everyone else thought it was a penis with an angel. They were wrong. It even had a cute little bunny nose. Little did I know, the person who took it thought it was the Virgin Mary and Joseph. She was also wrong. It was death having dinner with a rabbit. I couldn't get a good picture of the picture or I would show you and you would all agree. Because I am right.
  3. I am doing a chef's dinner to benefit a friend of mine's daughter. She has inoperable brain cancer and is dying. The doctors gave her 1 month once the tumor starts growing again. I am hoping that it never does, but that is only a 3% chance. I am super nervous because I have never really done anything like this and I want it to be perfect for my friend. And I want to raise a bunch of money for their charity. But, I am donating all the food, so I have to do it on a serious budget. Does a hummus app, beet salad, grilled pork tenderloin, and tres leches cake sound like a decent dinner for like $50? Or is that way too much? UGH. So nerve wracking. That is $12.50 a course. That is reasonable, right? 
  4. We finally hung out with our neighbors on Halloween. They came over for trick or treat and to hang out. We have the same house, so it was kind of fun to hear about all the differences and I can't wait to see their house. I was really nervous because what if they were terrible? What if you hate them and now there is this awkward neighbor vibe? That is not at all what happened. They were beyond awesome. He is a super computer dork like the boy and she is kind of artsy and out there like me. We hit it off immediately and I can't wait until we get to hang out with them again. 
  5. I was painting the trim in our bathroom and that is sort of Neils room because his food and litterbox is in there. I now have a spotted cat. Because, of course, our trim is white. And he is not. How do I not foresee these things?
  6. So, I have two pinterest stories. The first is that it makes me want to dress in a stylish manner. Most of  my time is surrounded by guys in chef coats that smell like fryer oil. It's not super inspiring to try to dress better. Pinterest has the opposite effect. I pin outfit after outfit that I love. But, I have no idea where to go or how to create said outfits. I am going to need someone to dress me. And also to do my hair everyday because I am terrible at it. Can you guys just make that happen for me? Because that would be great.
  7. Pinterest is constantly posting these crockpot meals. For those of you not on it, you basically spend one day cooking and make a months worth of meals that you freeze in freezer bags. Most of them are cooked in the crockpot, but some can be cooked in skillets or lasagnas that are baked, etc. There are one or two little stores around town that do the same thing, but you have to go in and cook it with them and then take it home. I have this business idea (please don't steal it) where I make these meals for people. No processed foods. And I would make you 30 days worth of meals that just needed to be thawed the day before. I would mostly market to moms because I have no idea how they have time to cook. Obviously you could use them as needed or use them everyday. Is this a good idea? I realize that this list is requiring a lot of feedback. Would any of you buy something like this? 
  8. The boy was out with the guys tonight which means I got to eat shrimp! I don't think I have ever told any of you this here, but he refuses to eat any seafood of any kind and hates it when I cook it when he is home. There is a whole hazmat like seafood disposal process I go through. It is ridiculous. The things we do for love.
  9. Election day is almost here and I am nervous. I have already voted, so my part is done. I am just really worried this is going to go south. Friends of mine, sensible friends, disagree with my political standings. I have never before said, hey, one candidate is right and one is wrong before. I have always stood by everybody's right to their own opinion. I disagree in this election. The way Romney feels about women's rights, equal pay, the 47%...it scares me. It scares me for the future of this country. I make $22,000 a year. I take home $1446 a month. That is just under $18,000 a year. I don't have health insurance because I can't afford it. Nor will anyone give it to me because of my back. I take ZERO government assistance. I pay for all of my medical bills out of pocket, including the astronomical price of birth control. If anything serious happened to me, I would need government assistance to pay for medical bills. I would probably need help paying for food and paying my bills. If anything ever happened to the boy, I would be homeless. (Family or friends would take me in, but this house would be gone.) Not everyone who needs government assistance is a mooch, is immoral, is lazy. Sometimes people just need help. 
  10. The owner of our restaurant owns a firehouse across the street and is in the process of remodeling it to move the restaurant. Part of his plan is to have the guests walk through the kitchen to get to the patio. The kitchen where we make constant dick jokes. Where we call each other mother fuckers. Where we yell and scream and laugh and are so inappropriate it is scary. Making me appropriate for the public is a near impossible task. This is a terrible plan, right? 

Friday, November 2, 2012

It was a bad week. Alternate Title: Maybe I need the bubble.

"How long did you have a pulse in your finger?"

"Maybe a day or so. I had to wrap it in a plastic bag for a week because it hurt when water hit it."

"I'm not too worried about the pain. When you hurt yourself as much as I do, you manage to build a really high tolerance for pain."

"How many times have you hurt yourself today?"

"Three. I can't even give you a count on the last seven days."

"You should really be more careful."

"Thanks ass hole. I never thought of that."

This is a word for word conversation I had with my coworker this week. I have really good weeks and I walk away injury free. And then I have weeks like this one. 

And for the record, day 3 on the above injury and I took a normal shower and stopped bandaging the wound. It just proves my point that either a. men are total pussies or b. I have a ridiculously high tolerance for pain. 

And the thing is that I am careful. You should see me on a step ladder...I am so terrified of falling off it I sometimes start shaking. Before I get on a step ladder I assess the situation, find places to hold on to while I am up there, back out plans if the thing breaks. I know how accident prone I am. I don't know why I am this way, but I am. I hurt myself ALL THE TIME. Constant unknown bruises. Although, I am borderline anemic, so I bruise very easily. And I never remember to take my daily vitamin.

Anyway, the point of this story. This was a REALLY bad week. It started with me somehow losing my balance and falling into the bathtub. Taking the shower curtain/rod with me. Luckily ours is not attached to the walls. That ended in several bruises on my arm, a bruise on my butt, and this doozy. I took this picture a few days post fall. 

Last Wednesday is when the above conversation took place. It started with this:


In my defense, I have been there when everyone I work with has done the exact same thing. The way a chef holds a knife/ what they are cutting is designed for this kind of injury versus cutting off a finger. Knuckles and fingers are often shaved with the knife...it sucks when you take off a giant chunk of your fingernail. Especially when said fingernail is starting to turn purple. I am REALLY hoping it doesn't fall off. 

The other two injuries were both grease related. One of them, serious. One of them not. 

I was dropping fries for our pantry guy and the fryer oil spit in just the right spot...my eye. I couldn't see at all for a good 15 minutes, then had blurry vision for about 30 minutes. I almost went to the emergency room, but after washing it out with water and my vision returning, decided against it. About five minutes later, it splattered all over my hand, causing this:


That little tiny blister on my knuckle? That is what I am talking about. The blister right below it happened a few days before. An the other two scars by my pointer finger and the base of my thumb were last week. Everyone at work is convinced I have some weird skin disorder where I blister too much. My arms and hands are like war zones.

The moral of this story is that hurting myself so much has made me super paranoid. I get that kitchens are a tad more dangerous than the average job, but I have always been like this. And now I am getting scared to take risks of any kind. It is weird. I freak out driving on the highway in the rain. I can't even imagine what this winter and driving in the snow is going to be like. Sometimes my crazy isn't funny and this is slowly becoming one of those times. Don't get me wrong, the shower incident...the boy walked in to me cracking the fuck up and lying in the bathtub. It's still kind of funny.

But, when does paranoia take over? And when is it valid? Am I going to become an agoraphobic and raise children in bubbles? (That was a terrible movie.) 

I had my first concussion at 6 months. Maybe I should just resign myself to the fact that this is what my life will be like. 90 year old woman with 12 broken hips under her belt. Awesome.

Monday, October 29, 2012

I need a carpenter and two chickens

I have been failing at blogging lately. And this blog post is kind of two not really blog posts. Continue the failing.

So, I think there is a hurricane or something going on? I might have heard a rumor. Oh, wait, that's right EVERY SINGLE PERSON ON FACEBOOK WISHES EVERYONE IS DOING WELL. So, now it is politics and the hurricane. I get really annoyed at Facebook trends.

In all seriousness though, everybody be safe. And don't drive on flooded streets! I am saying this because I once got caught in a flash flood. I was driving down a pretty major street and went from raining pretty hard to having the water level halfway up my window. I was driving an Acura Integra, so it was admittedly a car that is really low to the ground. But it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I had NO idea what to do, so I just sat there and called my dad. Who told me not to start the car and to wait for the water level to go down. Um. OK. Then my HEROES came running out of the Wendy's and pushed my car into the Wendy's parking lot. I have never been that wet in my life. Seriously. It was like I dove into a pool fully clothed. 

I profusely thanked the gentlemen and bought their lunch. Then I went into the bathroom and cried until the tow truck arrived. 

Worst. Day. Ever. So, don't drive down flooded streets. I had never seen a flash flood before, it is literally seconds. So scary.

Now for the second, totally unrelated part of this post. WE ARE GETTING CHICKENS. Our goal when moving down here was to have an urban homestead. Gardens, chickens, sustainability. And while I being the patient person that I am wanted everything to happen RIGHT THIS SECOND, it has been slow going. But, the gardens go in around March/April. The chickens hopefully late spring early summer. We are already composting and recycling. 

Next up: canning and preserving food for the winter. And finding someone to build a chicken coup. Because they want a grand for those fuckers! Ridiculous. It's a chicken house. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Go eat poutine. Now.


  1. Have you ever had poutine? Go have some. Right now. I made it in culinary school and it was delicious. A local restaurant added short ribs to the mix and made it even more delicious. You aren't supposed to use the word delicious to describe food. And I don't care.
  2. I had dinner tonight with Krackle, who I haven't seen since 'Nam. It was so good to see her and to catch up. 
  3. Did any of you hear the drama about Scott Torgerson? None of you know this, but I am constantly surrounded by sports radio. The guys at work listen to it all day and the boy listens to it in his car. So, I know a lot more about the goings on of athletes than the average person. The Torg made a shitty comment on twitter about Desmond Howard and got fired for it. Even though he spent all of his time on the radio making shitty comments. I never in a million years expected to care this much that this dude got fired. I need to stop being such a boy. Somebody grab some lipstick and hairspray and meet me at my house. That is what girls do, right?
  4. I think someone stabbed me in the foot when I wasn't looking. Or the feet. And my hips and my knees hurt. You guys, 31 is a lot harder than 30. I am getting old. Today, I found myself grabbing my hip like a little old woman. Then I pulled out my teeth and put them in water after I finished dinner. Please tell me I am not the only one who had a grandma that did this. Also, I didn't actually do this.
  5. I am addicted to Tapped Out, a Simpsons iPhone game. It is hilarious. You make the characters do things and get money and experience rewards. For example, Krusty right now is inflating his own importance and walking around holding an exclamation point over his head. And Millhouse is flying a model plane perfectly level. Flanders is power walking and Homer is running from a talking Krusty doll. I don't know why this all cracks me up so much, but it does. And I may need an intervention.
  6. I took a day off work to watch The Walking Dead and get caught up. Is anyone else watching this show? I can't get through the first episode, but everyone tells me the first episode is super boring. So, Pocket Pen and I took a day off work and are having a marathon. This is all totally normal.
  7. The political shit that is going on right now is scaring me. This. Rape is a terrible act. To say that a woman has to carry the result of that rape for 9 months is not OK. Some people definitely choose that route. Some people choose to abort the baby. The point here is choice. I am genuinely scared of what happens to my rights as a woman if Romney wins. Genuinely scared. I can't even imagine being gay or lesbian and the fear they feel right now. A political race should not be run on social issues...but if those social issues take basic rights away from our citizens, absolutely vote on social issues. If my father was running for president and saying the things that the republicans are saying right now, I would not vote for him. I am absolutely terrified. And I really respect my father.
  8. A spider just crawled on my foot. I did not have a nervous breakdown. 
  9. Just said on Modern Family; "I just took it out on Harry Potter. I mean a Gryffindor letting his mom carry his broom? How Hufflepuff is that?" DYING. The boy's response; "I have no idea what any of that means." I love that show.
  10. I spent a lot of time cleaning out my blogs and deleting a bunch of people that I don't care about anymore and Google Reader didn't save any of it. ANY OF IT. I already tweeted about this, but I am still super annoyed. And now I have to do it all over again. Ugh. Also this was a terrible ending to the list. Terrible.

Monday, October 15, 2012

"Nope, haven't seen that movie." Says me everyday.


  1. I got into a fight with my cat today over my pants. They were sitting on the counter and he wanted to play with the drawstring. I wanted to put them on. There were claws and meowing and me yelling "give me my pants" at a cat. It was definitely the weirdest thing that has happened today.
  2. Today at work we had a photo shoot for our website. Which means we had to roll out EVERY SINGLE ITEM on our lunch and dinner menu. It took me and fellow sous chef 3 1/2 hours. Nothing got done from 1:00 until 4:30 except food for this photo shoot. I got home at 8:00 pm and realized I hadn't even peed the whole day. Because there wasn't time. Yes, I know, this is bad for me. But, dude, sometimes kitchens just don't allow pee time.
  3. A restaurant friend of mine (whom I no longer work with) just changed his Facebook status from engaged to single and is posting a bunch of stuff about missing his best friend. This guy is the happiest, easy going guy I have ever met. I miss working with him and am so sad he is going through this. But, I have no idea, aside from a half assed apology and Facebook, how to be there for him. Because I really want to be. 
  4. My minion, er, line cook is kind of awesome. We have been having this huge power struggle where he takes the fact that we are friends and doesn't respect my authority as his supervisor. I had to pull him aside and be like, look, dude, I am your boss first, your friend second. It was super uncomfortable because I really like this kid. He is all spazzy and ADD and super energetic and exactly the opposite of the kind of person I usually get along with. But, for some reason this kid has gotten under my skin and I kind of want to take him everywhere with me. Plus he told me I had bigger balls than all the other guys in the kitchen. He said that up until he met me, he didn't think women belonged in professional kitchens because they were too emotional/ weak/ etc. Then he met me and his opinion completely changed. You guys, he is the THIRD person to tell me this. I guess not really being a girl has its benefits. 
  5. C and I had a food experimentation day on Sunday. We were trying to make the perfect Mofongo. I get that I do this for a living, but for some reason it is a lot more fun with bourbon. And C.
  6. Fall is here. And all of you probably know this because you are not a moron, but one day I woke up and all of the trees went from green to beautiful colors. I drove up to Big Jed's house (about 45 minutes north of me now) and it was absolutely stunning. That drive is boring and flat, but the changing trees made it so distracting, I almost missed the exit. Spring will always be my favorite because it means the end of winter, but there is just something about football, hoodies, and fall foliage that I can't resist.
  7. Do you ever look at pictures of your friend's kids and think, holy shit, that kid is gay/lesbian? Because this happens to me ALL the time. I have unusually good gaydar due to my fag hag status among the gays, but still. These kids are all in the 5 - 7 year old range and blatantly obvious. I don't care what anyone says, you are born that way. I will let you know in 15 years if I was right. (Spoiler Alert: I am.)
  8. If political ads don't stop, I am going to become one of those crazy people that refuses to use technology and meditates all the time. That's a thing, right? It should be a thing.
  9. Is anybody watching Revolution? Because the closet doomsday prepper in me should NOT WATCH THIS SHOW. We are totally talking about buying a 90 day supply of food and a bunch of water, just in case. You know...because you have to be prepared. At the very least, for a short power outage. We have the fireplace now and if we have food and water....and OH MY GOD SOMEBODY MAKE THIS STOP. Hold me.
  10. I don't like movies. I am not sure if I have talked about this here, but I don't have the attention span. It is rare that I see a movie (not in the theater) and am not instantly bored. My attention span is much more suited to a sitcom. Even hour long dramas I find myself wandering off. And it is getting worse and worse as I get older. I feel like all I do is watch TV, but yet when someone asks me about the show I was watching, I am like, well, I played this cell phone game, did this on Facebook, read this book, and so on. It's almost become background noise instead of something I actively choose to watch. I am forever having this conversation  "Did you see "super trendy movie?" "I don't watch movies." "But it is super awesome. Let me quote a bunch of shit you don't care about." "Sweet. Sounds awesome. But I don't watch movies." The very next day; "Did you see "super old movie?" "I FUCKING FUCK TOLD YOU YESTERDAY THAT I DON'T WATCH MOVIES." "Oh. That's weird." And put this on repeat for eternity. Hey, guys. I don't watch movies.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Everybody hates the Outbreak monkey.

One of the best things about working in a kitchen is that you are only in contact with like 5 people on a regular basis. So, you don't encounter the germs and generally don't get sick.

Servers? Servers are always sick. ALWAYS. When a server comes in sick, we refuse to let them on the line. We don't leave the safe haven of the kitchen. Because we all know what happens when one of us gets sick...we are all sick. At the same time. And it is a miserable fucking place to be when everyone is sick.

Two weeks ago a server came in sick, trotted back on the line and started talking to us before any of us realized he was sick. As soon as he sniffled and coughed, it was as if the Outbreak monkey was standing in front of us. Level 10 flip out. Screaming. Yelling. Frantic hand washing. I believe a few prayers were said.

Slowly this cold has worked its way through the servers. It has been a week of coughing and runny noses while we all huddle in the corner of the line hoping that we were safe.

In walks one of my coworkers yesterday, "I feel like shit." SON OF A BITCH. We were infiltrated.

I woke up this morning with burning lungs and a wicked cough. And a fever. AWESOME. 

That server is dead to me.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Chasing the dragon. Wait, that's heroin.

There is this chef who used to work for our restaurant who is BAT SHIT CRAZY. Dude is just completely nuts. 

He spent today telling me that if he was a dictator, all Christians should be put in concentration camps and forced to choose either to to denounce their religion or have their children murdered to prevent the spread of Christianity. 

Now. While I don't think he would ever actually do this. Maybe. He did get really angry and throw a church magnet across the room. You can never really tell if he is serious.

Everything he says is either mildly sexist or mildly racist.

He is exactly the kind of person I do not like working with or being around for that matter. There are many reasons for this...mostly of the racist/sexist variety. But, also the drugs and the hookers/strippers.

He was listing every single strip club in the country that you can get a $20 blow job at. So, that makes the strippers hookers right?

The last time he was in the restaurant he told me a story about how he bought a bunch of blow to sell while he was on the road (he cooks on the road with bands) and ended up accidentally doing $5000 in blow in a week. I have ZERO idea how much coke this actually is, having never done it or bought it. I assume it is a lot.

So, today, he was bitching about his back hurting all day, making us lift stuff for him, the works. Finally I asked him how he hurt his back...to get the most shocking answer I have ever really gotten to a question. Deadpan, no sign of remorse, no indication that his answer was going to be shocking in anyway.

"I did too much coke and started seizing."

Um. WHAT? This wasn't alarming to you in anyway? This a commonplace occurrence? There are a lot of people like this in the restaurant industry and I know none of them. Except for this guy. And I am so happy not to know any of them, I can't even tell you. 

But it scares me. It makes me never want to leave the comfort of my coworkers who only use drugs recreationally. I do not like being around hard drugs. You smoke weed? Awesome. Mushrooms, Acid, whatever. But, when you start talking coke, heroin, crack, any of that shit, I get very uncomfortable. Maybe I watch too much Intervention. I just don't trust them and it is honestly the only thing I hate about this industry.

Or maybe I am just getting old and crotchety. I don't know. I just know that anyone who nonchalantly tells me they almost overdosed on coke and brushed it off is not someone I want in my life.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Remodel Pictures!

Before I go on with my blog post, I just want to say that I am officially fucking fuck over political ads. I get like this every election year, but this year it seems worse. 

So, moving on, tonight we had our first fire in our new fireplace and it occurred to me that I never showed you all pictures of the remodel.

I would have posted before pictures so you could compare, but unfortunately, the boy had to recently redo my computer and I no longer have adobe, and all my before pictures are in a pdf file. Boo. 

Here is the link to the video tour if you want to look back. I am sure, though, that none of you really care that much. 

In the first picture there is a flower arrangement that NONE of you are allowed to judge me on. I am TERRIBLE at flower arranging and am actually proud of this one. I plan on putting glass stones in the bottom and cutting off some of the leaves, and trimming the stick things so they aren't so high, but this looks way better than anything I have ever done. So, just humor me and tell me it is awesome and I don't even care that I will know every one of you is lying.

Also, you can't take an in focus picture without pausing the TV. Who knew?



Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I did not go back and read this. I apologize in advance.

Krav Maga again today. I have spent the last hour playing a fun game I like to call "will that sore spot become a bruise." I feel like the answer is almost always yes. 

I love the Krav Maga shit. I really do. But, I am not very good at it. And I feel like the 10 sessions I purchased with my groupon are going to be only enough to make me dangerous. To myself. Not others. For example, when attacking my partner, Nyeski, I repeatedly almost fell over. I mean. I can't even strangle someone from behind well, how am I going to prevent this from happening to me. They have the EASY job, the attackers. It is much harder to fend them off than it is to attack. Unless of course you are anyone else in the class, then fuck that, I would never attack you. Because I would hurt myself trying to get a grip on your neck.

Maybe I should have started with not falling over 101. Or, more importantly, how not to be a sweaty gross mess 101. Because, you guys, I am a sweater. Like, there was sweat in my eye and the instructor said "already?" then made some joke about me sweating vinegar. SHUT IT. I AM SWEATY. This is why kitchens are perfect, it is normal to be sweaty. 

In my head, I am this gross fat sweaty person and I KNOW THAT IS NOT TRUE. Nobody yell at me. My head is not very nice. But, I hate the sweat. My mother never sweats. Why did I have to inherit my dad's sweat like a mother fucker gene.

I just got totally derailed by sweat. And whiskey. What? Has any blog post ever said sweat this many times?

The moral of the story is...I love this shit. And a part of me really wants to continue it past the 10 day groupon thing, but alas, I can't afford to join the gym. And I just googled to see if there were anymore, and there really aren't. 

So, my plan is to have the boy randomly attack me and then beat the crap out of him. Wait. That is a terrible plan.

Do any of you remember the episode of Friends where Ross tries to teach Rachel and Phoebe Unagi? That is what I just pictured. Also I watch too much Friends.

I want a way to do this in my free time and there just isn't. And that sucks. I want a way to not have to go to a gym for the tune of SO MUCH MONEY and continue this training, because I would. And that doesn't exist.

And this post was all over the place, but I took two phone calls, several text messages that involved brain power, and am watching TV all while posting this. I really want Nick and Jess to get together. I can't NOT watch.

My name is Erratic and I am ADD. 

Monday, October 1, 2012

Saving America's Youth. Or being terrified for future generations.

You need to know something about me in order for this story to not make me look like an ass hole. I leave my house at the EXACT time I have to in order to be at work at EXACTLY 9 am. I do this everywhere I go. I am rarely late. Rarely early. I am almost always exactly on time. I know how long it takes to drive just about everywhere in our city (it is rarely over 20 minutes) and plan accordingly. It is not weird to me that my father tells me that he will be at my house at 5:07 when leaving from work. Because I too would know exactly how long that drive would take. 

Onto the story...On my way into work this morning, I saw a little boy about 10 years old sitting in the parking lot by work. He was clearly alone, clearly dirty, and clearly hungry. I asked him if he was OK and he said yes. I asked him if he wanted to come into the restaurant while I called the police and he said no. I begged him to come into the restaurant and he refused. I said OK and I went into work (because I was going to be late if I didn't and I am not forcing a child to come with me when they don't want to) calling the police as I walked in. They said they would send a squad car right over. I never heard anything again and assume all was well, even though I was worried.

My peon, er line cook, came in with the same story from about 8:00 am when he went on his run. Kid refused help, he called the police. 

At this point, we figured out that the kid was hiding from the police somehow. We were concerned, but didn't see him across the street, so there wasn't much we could do.

Enter the owner of the restaurant. He pulled into the parking lot as the kid was shitting behind the dumpster. We have had a phantom shitter in our parking lot for WEEKS. Also a former dishwasher who gets drunk and pees on our back door. This is why I work in restaurants. Office workers never pee on your back door. And it is HILARIOUS to throw your keys at the glass while he is doing it and watch him pee all over himself.

Restaurant workers are ass holes.

So, he asked the kid the same questions that we did to the same result. He took a blanket out of his car, wrapped the kid in it, and hid him. (We are all still confused as to why he hid him in the bushes.) Called the police, went outside and stood with the kid until the police came. As soon as the police showed up, they called the kid by his name, knew exactly who he was and had been looking for him for weeks. 

It turns out that the kid was being sent to one of those scared straight programs and he ran away from home to avoid having to go. His home life was a mess, but his parents were worried and happy he was home. They lived three blocks away.

A couple of things...what 10 year old needs a scared straight program? When I was 10, I was going on bike rides with my parents and playing with dolls. Maybe not dolls? But I had a little sister so probably. 

What parent isn't SCOURING the neighborhood looking for their kid. THREE people I worked with saw him. THREE. The neighborhood I work in is up and coming. There are a lot of boarded up houses sitting next to houses worth a million dollars (and selling for about $150k.) But, still. If you care enough to send your kid to a program to get straightened up, why don't you care enough to look?

And lastly, why, oh why, don't you use the gas station/bar/restaurant bathroom to take shit. And more importantly, how did he keep getting kitchen towels to cover it up? 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Nine out of ten...shit happens.


  1. TV is back. It is premiere week and I am in heaven. Am I a TV addict? Yes. How I Met Your Mother, New Girl, and The Big Bang Theory are definitely the ones I am most excited about. I do love a good sitcom. (Yes, I realize two of these have already happened)
  2. Every year the boy plans a birthday dinner and refuses to tell me where. Then gives me clues, tells me later he has told "five lies" and generally makes me insane. I feel like this is his present to himself. Because it makes me insane. But, the dinner part is always nice. I hate surprises.
  3. A former boss of mine at old job lives a few blocks away. A boss I DESPISE. About 60% of the reason I left old job. Ran into him face to face for the first time today. I did the awkward engrossed in conversation with the boy and pretended he didn't exist thing. That is sort of a village thing...you say hi to everyone. You at least do the nod. It was so obvious I recognized him and so obvious I avoided him and I just don't even care. If I would have acknowledged him, I probably would have lost my shit and screamed at him. TERRIBLE. HUMAN. BEING.
  4. I have somehow inserted myself into the worst relationship drama ever. I have this friend who was dating two guys when we met...a guy I love, and a guy who abuses her, physically. I have since ceased being friends with her because she keeps going back to the abusive guy and I can't handle it. She thinks it is a sign of love when he hits her. She says that she loves him more than anyone else and doesn't care. I have tried reasoning, there is no reasoning. It is a terrible situation that she CHOOSES to keep inserting herself in. Other guy has turned to me as his personal rock and tells me how hopelessly in love with her he is all the time and I can't really extricate myself from it because I am the only person he can talk to. Guy who hits her...makes a fuck ton of money. Guy who loves her...makes no money. And I just don't have the heart to tell the good guy he isn't rich enough. How do I manage to get myself into these situations??
  5. Ben and Kate is turning out to be if Dumb and Dumber was turned into a terrible TV show. With a dumbest thrown into the mix. Not amused.
  6. I got a cook arm installed in my fireplace today. This means I can cook food over an open fire. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? Imagine chilli. Or soup in general. Cooked in a cast iron pot over an open flame. DELICIOUSNESS ENSUES.
  7. You know how when you learn about something for the first time, then all of a sudden it is all you hear? Krav Maga has become that for me. 
  8. There was a conversation about turning on the heat in this house. IT IS SEPTEMBER. SEPTEMBER. No. Just no. I don't care how cold I am, the gas bills of the 101 year old house do not start until at least December. 
  9. I am hosting Thanksgiving for the first time ever. I am so excited for non-traditional Thanksgiving I can't even tell you. The next few months of researching and testing recipes is going to be awesome. I already know cornish games hens instead of turkey. Some kind of stuffing...would do oyster if the boy didn't hate seafood. No green bean casserole. No sweet potato casserole. I know some people are going to hate this, but I am so excited for elevated Thanksgiving, I can't even tell you. Who wants to come to chefsgiving?
  10. I really don't have a 10. I tried. It was all lame. I have zero, nothing, nada. 9 random things. 

Friday, September 21, 2012

Politics. And Vibrators. Yeah.

I need to vent. About politics. I am resisting everything that I have to keep this shit off of Facebook because I hate that other people do just that. I can't vent at work for similar reasons. Politics are personal and this is my personal blog, so dammit, I am going to just be that person for a minute. And I am not saying these things because I want you to agree with me. I would love for someone to have an intelligent conversation disagreeing with me. I just rarely find people who will intelligently talk about politics. And I feel like I spend all of my time focused on very left wing, liberal media sources because, quite frankly, I agree with them. And whenever I find someone who disagrees with me, they don't answer my core questions honestly. Or at least satisfactorily. 

So, here is what I don't understand. How can a woman, any woman, vote for Paul Ryan? I get that you are actually voting for Mitt Romney. And I get that there are tons of checks and balances in place that will prevent a lot of the hate that he spews to go through, but how can any woman support this?  How can any woman think that rape is just another form of conception? I realize that is not word for word what he says. But to call pregnancy by rape conception is...vulgar. To take something so precious to so many people and to say that violently being forced to have sex and have a resulting pregnancy...to just use the same word for those two things is wrong. Yes, by definition, it is conception. And I really do understand the pro-life point of view. I have never been pregnant, but there is no point in my life where I would have considered abortion. I refuse to make choices for other people, but I know what choice I would always make. Rape is the exception. 

The bottom line, to me, is this; a guy gets to put his dick anywhere he wants to and the woman has to face the consequences. Rapists don't pay child support. They don't get visitation. Frankly, they probably don't even get prosecuted. I know I regret every single day not pressing charges. Most women don't press charges. 

How do we protect ourselves? A barbed wire chastity belt? I mean, seriously. I have the fucking right in this country to choose when I have children. To choose to take contraception. To live the life that I want to live. And I have the fucking right to choose to not give birth to a child if I don't want to. I would NEVER exercise that right, because a part of me is not really behind abortion. The bottom line is that it isn't my place to make that decision for another woman. 

And mother fucker, the last people who should be making this decision is a bunch of men. I know I have previously ranted about this. And I know this is in the top 5 topics you should never discuss in mixed company. But, thankfully, I have no boundaries. Or not so thankfully.

I want Paul Ryan to walk into a shelter for battered women (I have done this) and tell them that rape is just another form of conception (I would never do this) and see their reactions. I want him to look into the faces of women who have been brutalized and raped and feel nothing. To see the void in their eyes. To see a woman completely broken. I want him to tell them that they should carry that child for 9 months when they can barely get out of bed. I want him to tell them that aborting that child is wrong when all they can do is cry.

I don't support abortion is birth control. Or even as a way out of a huge mistake. I really don't. But, desperate people do desperate things. And while, yes, there are women who have abortion after abortion while being reckless, that doesn't discount the women who walk into clinics who legitimately need help. 

And abolishing Planned Parenthood? Just. What? Abortion is a fraction of what they do. A FRACTION. They treat STD's, they do gyno exams for people who can't afford it, they provide birth control, they provide counseling, they are truly an organization that supports women and their sexuality.

Which is what this is all about, right? Women's sexuality. In a culture that is bombarded by sex everyday. Listen up, men. Women like sex too. And we want to have it. And we want to protect ourselves in the process. So, eliminating every circumstance that a woman can have sex with a man without the risk of conceiving a child? Yeah...your dick isn't coming anywhere near any woman in her right mind. 

And I apologize for being so vulgar, but a vibrator is a hell of a lot cheaper than a kid. 

Conclusion: Paul Ryan just got replaced by a vibrator. 

Second Conclusion: Nobody is ever going to read this blog again.

Monday, September 17, 2012

My go to rage today is spoons and Mordor.


  1. There was quite the political fight today on a friend's facebook status. I was at work, so I came in 66 comments into it! And I read as one side intelligently argued points. Well, one person on that side was throwing shit out that was pulling the Ryan paid for college with Social Security thing, which is valid since his dad died, whatever. Below the belt. Everyone else was rational. And they were arguing with ONE person who was SHOUTY AND YOU ARE WRONG AND OBAMA IS A SOCIALIST AND NOT AN AMERICAN CITIZEN. Dear everyone, ever...even if I was voting for Romney, your argument would have made me argue against you.. Just like I didn't agree with the chick who pulled below the belt shit out about Ryan. Unless you are talking VALID policy choice and showing me FACTS, stop arguing the point. You are a troll. I can watch political ads too. And I don't believe either side. 
  2. I love being busy at work. It makes my day fly by and keeps me moving around and energetic. I do not love being so busy that I work an 11 hour day and forget to eat. I mean, food was ingested. I tried features, grabbed a fry here or there, but definitely did not practice healthy eating habits. So, I came home and ate a cold bratwurst with no condiments, bread, nothing. Just fist and bratwurst. I have never felt more like a kitchen person. Need food. Don't want to cook food. This is food. Eat.
  3. The ONLY reason I watch singing shows is for that one moment when I am completely covered in goosebumps, in the middle of blogging, unable to remember what point 3 was because they just grabbed my attention. Do you know how hard it is to grab my attention? Really, really hard. There is always something shinier.
  4. Speaking of shiny, there is this new guy I hired at work, which makes the entire lunch team under 5'5". We refer to ourselves as the shire. Anyway, I had to tell him FIVE times to finish making cranberry mayo. FIVE TIMES. I finally said, "Look, Frodo, you are driving me crazy. If you don't finish this shit, I am going to throw spoons at you until it is done." To which he responded, "Oh, shit, I forgot to take my ADD meds." And the day improved exponentially. Which made me wonder what I would be like on ADD meds. Wouldn't it be hilarious if I was suddenly capable of solving complex math problems or some shit? I mean, I doubt it. But I have had more than 5 people at work tell me I should consider it. And, yes, my management technique is awesome and professional. I also threaten to send him to Mordor. Without Samwise.
  5. Our house is done. Our house is done. Our house is done. YOU GUYS I AM SO HAPPY OUR HOUSE IS DONE. I am probably going to do another house tour shortly, even though we still have a few things we want to redo. But, we will ALWAYS have a few things we want to redo. So, you may be tortured with this a lot. 
  6. Beer Olympics was this weekend and I am 100% positive that if we have room in our backyard after we landscape, that we are going to be doing this every year until we are too old to do it. Oh, wait, that part already happened as evidence of the Erratic shaped dent in our couch from Sunday. But, it was fun as hell. Which is surprising, because I expected with 20 drunk people in my backyard, there would be a little drama. (OK, there may have been an incident where a guy made out with a different girl than he came with, but the girl didn't seem to care that much and he was really drunk and the girl he made out with was really drunk and it was kind of a non event, but also HILARIOUS because all of these people are well over 30. AND I got to refuse to give him her number. BOOM.)
  7. Obama was less than a mile from my house today. About a mile from my work. It is not very often I will say I AM SO HAPPY I MISSED OUT BECAUSE I WAS AT WORK. But, shit yeah. Every road ever was closed down. If I would have had to deal with that shit, I just picture headline news: "Woman on edge starts throwing spoons at Secret Service and threatening Mordor. Woman has been institutionalized and is currently NOT stable." I get angry when I have to drive. This requires #spoiled. In fact, the number of times I scream "BITCH GET OFF YOUR PHONE" in a day, considering I only drive 2 miles, is ridiculous. And scary. I may have road rage. Also, I will run over every single one of you people on bikes. Not willing to share the road. Don't care if that makes me an ass hole. 
  8. A friend of mine just adopted two brothers and sisters that were on death row in a dog shelter in Kentucky. This will give them five dogs. Big Jed now has four dogs. I absolutely love animals, but you bitches be crazy. I don't think I could do it. Maybe a lot of cats (OH GOD, WHAT DID I JUST SAY?) But, dogs are needy. Now, I will say Big Jed is a much better large number of doggy parent than my other friends, whose animals frequently attack me. No joke. There were marks. But, still. That is a lot of dogs. Like, a lot of dogs.
  9. I am doing some serious blog weeding out. I subscribe to an ungodly amount of blogs. And I find myself going through the 500 new blogs I get a day and really only caring about a handful of them. And then just marking as read to the rest of them. Which then makes me feel guilty that I am not reading them. Which then makes me go read a bunch of shit I don't really care about. About a bunch of people I don't really care about. I very highly doubt that any of you fall into that category (you would have to literally never have commented) but if you are, comment. That personal connection makes me care more and I really do want to connect to more blogs. I just haven't been lately. I read them and enjoy them, but I feel like my time is kind of precious and if you are just going to post lists of ten random things, ahem, that is boring. Yes, I know what I did there. If I know you, though, it is awesome. Right? RIGHT? Maybe not. I am part of the problem. LOVE ME.
  10. My hand, four days post Krav Maga. The other one looks exactly the same. I have class again in three days and today is the first day I can open and close my hands in the morning without some serious massage and groaning. This week I have to work 6 days, two doubles. If you need me Sunday morning, I will be dead. (I realize this is an odd last post, but the blog wouldn't let me put it in the middle of the list? I don't know. I am too tired and hungry to figure it out. Bratwurst = not satisfying.)

Thursday, September 13, 2012

I will kick your ass. In 10 weeks.

I have wanted to take a self defense course for a while now. So, when my friend Nyeski (so weird that I have never mentioned her here) found a groupon for 10 weeks of self defense classes for like $35, we both jumped on it.

The introductory class was tonight. I expected to get an explanation of what to expect, maybe learn some simple things like punching and kicking. Oh boy was I wrong.

The groupon was slightly unclear. Slightly. Nyeski and I walked into a Krav Maga introductory course. Wherein we got our asses kicked. 

Krav Maga is the fighting technique used by the Israeli army. It is definitely self defense. The basic premise is to fight until you can get yourself out of the situation and safe. And they mean fight. There is no fucking around with pepper spray and tazers.

I spent at least 20 minutes mounted over Nyeski (and she me) while we flipped each other off. 

My knuckles look like, well, I got in a fight. I have found 4 bruises so far. BIG bruises. 

I learned how to fight away from under someone. From over someone. How to kick someone so hard that it breaks their pelvis. Or dislocates their hip. I learned how to punch. I had no idea how to punch. I grabbed a total stranger and kneed him repeatedly (into a cushy mat he was holding.)  

I hate violence. That's not what this is. One of the first things he told us was never to use these techniques to start a fight. To never be the cause of violence. Simply to hone what we would instinctively do, so when attacked or in an unsafe situation, we can get away and get safe. 

And you guys, IT WAS SO FUCKING AWESOME. I hate working out. I tolerate running. I tolerate other work out methods. This? This I would do every day. Well, no I wouldn't. Because tomorrow I am fairly certain I will never be able to move again. The groupon included 10 weeks of classes and if I continue to like it as much as I do, I will probably discuss with the boy a way to join permanently. I liked it that much. 

An added bonus was that it was probably the best workout I have had in a really, really long time.

He said to only do what we could and I managed to keep up the entire time, until right at the end, when I quite literally ran out of steam. During the kneeing the total stranger exercise. Who actually asked if I was OK. Which I was. Barely. 

I can't wait until next Thursday. I am kind of dreading tomorrow when all of the soreness comes out and I collapse in a giant puddle of ouch. But, it will be that delicious soreness that means you worked your ass off.