Erratic

Art

2012-02-01T17:27:00.002-05:00

These are covering the walls of the building my restaurant is in. I find them amazingly beautiful and a huge part of the neighborhood we are in. It was sixty degrees outside today, so while running the trash to the dumpster (which had a weave hanging from it???) I decided to snap some pictures with my phone. What do you think?

The last one is my favorite. I love the eyes all over the door. It is kind of a crappy picture, though, because of that damn tree. Which, got hit by a car two days ago. So, maybe I should have some sympathy for the tree.

Boring...Please still love me.

2012-01-31T22:00:00.000-05:00

I just spent the better part of my night trying to figure out how to merge traditional BBQ flavors with traditional Mexican flavors. (Traditional Mexican meaning allspice, cinnamon, coriander, and so on.) This is either going to be brilliant or a complete disaster. I really can't decide because traditional Mexican is a new thing I am exploring. AND I am doing this for the entire staff of my work. So, you know, people who know NOTHING about food. Why do I do this shit? I am so nervous.
So....my cousin married someone with my same first name. And we have the same last name. I feel like I have talked about this here before, but if not, well, there are two of me actively in my life. And, you guys, IT IS SO CONFUSING. On Facebook people like my comments on her posts when it is clearly obvious that they think I am her. Pinterest...I confuse myself with her constantly. Like, wait, I don't remember pinning that...oh...right. Not me. I need a new name.
I AM DONE WITH PREDNISONE! I AM DONE WITH PREDNISONE! I slept for like a gazillion hours yesterday. They sent me home from work because I was pale and possibly hallucinating from lack of sleep. It was bad. I also vomited for no reason other than, hey, vomit. Good times.
I ran 1.37 miles today. I realize that to most people this is not that much...but it is the beginning. I will conquer the fat roll.
On a related note, the boy is counting calories and this is the opposite of everything that I believe in regarding food and OMG I had to spell quinoa for him. It is a grain that is really good for you, honey. Just trust me, our meals are balanced. I kind of want to make him walk me through Norton every single day and then see how he feels about it.
I AM SO SICK OF PLAYING MOUSEY (fetch with the mother fucking cat) WITH THE MOTHER FUCKING CAT. Put the fucking mouse somewhere near me and stop trying to kill me when I ignore you. !#@$@#$!@.
And...political. Susan G Komen Foundation removed their funding from Planned Parenthood. I wrote an entire diatribe about my feelings on this, but it doesn't really matter. You agree or you don't. I don't.
The following Facebook status will ALWAYS make me want to stab you; "I am so busy. Look at all I am doing. And then I am doing more. Do you feel bad about yourself? You should. Because I am ALSO DOING THIS. I know, I know, everyone is busy, but so am I! So busy! LOOK AT WHAT I AM DOING." Go fuck yourself. This applies only if your status is more than one sentence. If you accomplish this in on sentence, I deserve to feel like shit.
I miss you guys. The last two-ish weeks are kind of a blur of medicated insanity. I feel so out of touch.
This may be the most boring 10 random things ever. My bad. I promise to be more amusing in the future.

I needed that laugh.

2012-01-28T15:05:00.001-05:00

I am done with prednisone. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. I feel like a freight train hit me full speed and just left me on the side of the tracks. I think it is official...the next time someone tries to prescribe me prednisone, I am flat out refusing it. Three more days.

Anywho...that is not at all what this blog post is about. This is about my addiction to Pinterest and how at 5:30 this morning when I finally gave up on trying to sleep, this picture made me laugh so hard I cried.

I thought maybe I wasn't the only one who needed this laugh. Hopefully you have all seen the SNL sketch. If not, well, here you go.

You're welcome.

I'm getting all Emo up in here.

2012-01-26T23:14:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I feel so alone it hurts. Which is ridiculous because I am surrounded by love.

But, sometimes it just feels like me. Sitting out there, dealing with my shit. I feel like I should have my own twitter feed that just explains everything I am doing when I am doing it. And then another one to apologize later.

I want to just say. Everything. To just put it the fuck out there. Like here. Here it is. Here is everything I can't say. Here is everything about me that I never want anyone to know.

But I can't. That's not really what we do, as a society.

I feel like most of the time I am pretty honest. I throw my shit in the air and feel sorry for whoever catches it.

But, sometimes I get like this. It is probably the Prednisone. It is probably my natural ability to over think every single fucking thing in my life.

I try so hard not to project this crazy on people. I really do.

But, sometimes I need people to just say I love you. To just tell me I am awesome. To just make me feel really, really good. Which is pathetic.

My boss told me today that I have a tendency to say "to be perfectly honest with you." He has some kind of black ops training and said that is a huge indicator of someone lying. Which made me think...I use that phrase when I am uncomfortable with the truth I am telling. I am not lying...just uncomfortable.

I really don't lie. I exaggerate. Fuck yes, I do. I don't lie.

But, sometimes I am uncomfortable with the truth. With me. And, yes, I think I use that phrase in that case.

It blows my mind that someone who barely knows me sees that.

It in turn terrifies me. Who else sees through me? Who sees these walls I put up? It feels almost like I spend all my time creating a personality for myself that hides who I actually am perfectly. Yet, sometimes it feels like the people who know me, who truly know me, know me so well it terrifies me.

Isn't everyones secret insecurity that if anyone truly knew them, truly knew everything about them, that they would be hated by everyone? If someone could sit next to me and read my mind for a month straight, they would despise everything I am?

My mom had this needle point framed in our bathroom growing up...it said, "I like me. I like me. Being what no one else can be. I like me."

That phrase just flows through my mind every time I get like this. It makes me thing, fuck. Nobody else is going to love you like YOU love you. But, nobody else is going to hate you like you hate you either.

This probably makes no sense unless you too are on steroids.

2012-01-24T18:19:00.000-05:00

I despise being on Prednisone. Due to my back problems, this is not my first rodeo. I always fight the doctor when they say, oh, Prednisone is the answer to your problems. No, I say. It's not. It turns me into a 12-headed monster with no self control. At all.

Yesterday, I had an entire blog post typed up. I decided not to post it right away because I had consumed some wine and on top of the drugs, though it best to see the post in the light of day. I read it today. It was terrible. It made no sense. It sounded like a schizophrenic giraffe with three legs wrote it. If you had read it, well, the legless giraffe would make sense.

I then had to hold back tears because I was unable to communicate with people anymore and should just go ahead and become a hermit with lots of cats that will eat me when I fall down the stairs and die. BECAUSE I AM REASONABLE.

I am exhausted, because Prednisone takes my insomnia and forces it to do lines of coke. Or meth. What keeps you up all night? I was scared to google it. So, I am wide awake. Except, I am exhausted. Oh, and Prednisone makes me anxious. So....right. I am sure you can imagine what having a conversation with me is like right now. Schizophrenic giraffe with three legs anyone?

On top of all of these lovely symptoms, somebody at some point (probably while my insomnia was doing coke AND meth) hit me in the lower back with a 2 X 4. Wheeee. It literally feels like I have a giant, wood shaped bruise on my back. Haha. Not THAT kind of wood.

I came home from work today, took off my chef coat and pants and crawled into bed for TWO HOURS and watched Kim Kardashian's life unravel while cuddling with the pets. I also may have repinned everything on Pinterest ever. The entire time I kept thinking how completely worthless I am and how I should just clean the house because nobody loves me. Seriously, you guys, THIS IS WHY I HATE PREDNISONE.

I finally dragged my ass out of bed and put on pants and a hoodie and came downstairs to make myself dinner. There were only enough leftovers for one of us, so I left those for the boy. I am currently roasting brussells sprouts and cooking brown rice. Because, you know, those two things go together. I also had some muenster cheese. And may or may not be contemplating putting some jack in my sleepy time tea.

I hate the feeling of being a prisoner in my own head. I know I am being unreasonable. I know that it is the drugs and that I don't actually feel these things. I know all of this. But, it doesn't matter. I feel them just as if they were real. Yes, I have suffered from depression and while similar, this is different. More manic. More unrealistic.

I was reading the side effects and they list difficulty sleeping (check), dizziness (check), flushing, nervousness (check), increased appetite (check), increased sweating, indigestion (check), or nausea (check.)

So, I am going to crawl in a hole for the next 6 days while I work through all of this shit. The boy is currently seeking alternate places to live until the crazy stops.

Hives and why I should not be allowed on the internet unsupervised.

2012-01-22T18:19:00.000-05:00

I have very sensitive skin. I often just break out in a blotchy rash for no reason. At least no reason that I can figure out.

I often get hives as well. I also have allergy induced asthma, which can cause me to wheeze when I am around cats, dogs, and excessive amounts of dust. Yes, I realize I have a dog, a cat, and dust. So, sometimes random hives are normal.

Friday, when I looked down to see my hands covered in hives, I thought nothing of it. This happens. It's normal. Except they didn't go away after an hour or so like normal. In fact, I still have them today.

Now. The only thing that I did differently than normal was pit olives that were in brine. And I wore gloves for an excessive amount of time. My hands have also been ridiculously dry lately, and sometimes that can cause them to become irritated. But, nothing like this.

So...I start googling. This is my answer to all medical problems. Also the reason for my neurosis. All of a sudden, there were all these websites in front of me saying OMG YOU HAVE SCABIES. TINY BUGS ARE LAYING EGGS UNDER YOUR SKIN AND YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.

Shut laptop, go to urgent care. $90 later (yay for lack of health insurance) and I had an allergic reaction to something. We think olive brine. Which is a very long story that is not important.

I go to the local pharmacy and get my prescription for Prednisone filled. I hate being on prednisone. It makes me BAT SHIT crazy. Crying, yelling, shoveling food in my mouth so fast I can't swallow...yeah. It's going to be a fun 9 days. The boy is going on vacation.

So, the pharmacist signals that I am ready and she says that I should start taking it tonight since I am clearly having such a bad reaction. Now. The hives are on my hands, which are buried in the sleeves of my hoodie. She can't even SEE the area of my body where I am having a reaction. I sputtered something out and walked away.

Then I think...wait, she thought the allergic reaction was happening on MY FACE. Which had no reaction. I think I have mentioned here that my face is always red. Like, always. And I have kind of a round, chubby face anyway. So, I am pretty sure she took the natural roundness of my face and the natural redness of my skin and assumed I was having an allergic reaction on my face. Awesome. Thanks for the self esteem boost, bitch.

Of course I had 100 comebacks as soon as I walked out, but I just bowed my head in shame and walked out. Because, you guys, I don't think it looks like I am having an allergic reaction on my face 24/7. Well, at least I didn't.

Restaurant Week Day 6

2012-01-22T16:00:00.000-05:00

Mock Ruben. Housemade corned beef with braised red cabbage.

Superior, Judgmental me.

2012-01-22T14:23:00.002-05:00

I work with a woman who has the smallest carbon footprint of anyone I have ever met. Probably smaller than most of our country, aside from those that are able to live out of the way and provide their own electricity and such. I wish I had the dedication to be that kind of person.

This woman does not have a cell phone. She buys only local, organic products. She makes her own soap. She is one of the only people I have ever met that is a TRUE Vegan. She uses no animal products. None. Even her make up. I asked.

She drives an electric car. She lives in the city and shops only at places she can walk to. She is a yoga teacher.

This woman is obnoxiously Vegan. But, in a good way. In a way that I admire. So often people say they are Vegan but wear leather. Or use soap with animal products. Or make up. Or shampoo. It is truly a lifestyle that requires a lot of work to change to. And I admire the work she has put in.

In her previous life, she was a drug addict and an alcoholic. She got clean and she overhauled her life. It is honorable.

People like this humble me. I try so hard to live a lifestyle that I feel is right and good and responsible. I don't buy process foods, with very few exceptions. Pasta being one of them. I just don't have the energy to make pasta every time I need it. Bread is another for similar reasons.

We take grocery bags to the store. We shop locally when possible. Organic when we can afford it.

We both refuse to work for "the man" and work for locally owned and run businesses.

We want to move downtown, where we both work, and eliminate one car. I would love to ride my bike to work. I would also love to own a bike. Baby steps.

It never feels like enough. When I meet people like this woman, I just feel like a sham. Like a Vegan who wears leather. And I understand that doing what I can is something. It is a start. But it is frustrating that it is so expensive to do, what I believe to be, the right thing. It costs gas to drive to local butchers, because there are none in the city. It costs gas to drive to local grocery stores, because, again, there are none in the city. Farmers markets are awesome if you can afford them. Mostly, we can't. Anyone who thinks they are cheaper is wrong. Unless, once again, you load up the car and head to the country.

She doesn't have a cell phone. Or cable television. I doubt she even owns a television, to be honest.

I own a cell phone. I have cable. I watch more television than I am willing to admit here. I can't afford an electric car. I can't afford to live in the city, where I can walk or ride a bike everywhere. I can't afford to buy reusable zip lock bags (totally just discovered these existed.) I can't afford to replace our windows which are about the equivalent to duct taped plastic at this point.

Doing what I can is enough because it has to be. I am choosing a lifestyle where there are only so many sacrifices I am willing to make. Which, essentially, is what's wrong with this country, right? We are selfish. We are spoiled. We are not willing to do without for the sake of the overall good of this world.

I went to Sam's Club today to stock up on the wasteful American things I am not willing to go without. Paper towels (although we use cloth napkins. What? How awesome am I?), toilet paper, simple green, tissues, zip lock baggies, etc. So, I am walking through the store in my usual daze, paying zero attention to the people around me. And I see this couple with a brand new baby. They are arguing about fruit juice and I find myself judging them because the brand they choose is essentially just sugar water. I glanced at their cart. Chips, soda, cereal, frozen, processed food. It was literally all empty calories. There was nothing at all of nutritional value. We went through the checkout together and walked out together. They got into a Ford F150. For the sake of my argument, I looked up the gas mileage. 13/mpg.

I see things like that all the time. A part of me feels bad for them, because they probably don't know. Or can't afford any different. We've all had weeks where all we could afford was Ramen Noodles. But, mostly, they probably don't care. That food tastes good. It is easy to make. And that makes me a little angry. And there are reasons to own a pick up. Certainly. I don't know their situation.

This puts me somewhere in the middle, I suppose. I am not the perfect Vegan (nor would I ever be Vegan, but you know what I mean) nor am I oblivious to the repercussions of the choices I make. As I sit with my laptop on my lap, my iPhone inches away from me, my flat screen TV on and my kindle a few feet away, I realize I am just as bad. I am just as wasteful. And I really don't have any room to judge anyone. But, I know I will. I know I will look at the people with nothing but processed food and soda in their cart, and I will feel sorry for them.

I know I have no right to. I know that I am not superior to anyone because we all make our choices for a reason. But, I just can't help feel a little bit better about myself as I explain to the cashier that, no, in fact Kale is not the same thing as Spinach. And, yes, ma'am, all I am buying is produce, eggs, and milk.

Restaurant Week Day 5

2012-01-21T16:00:00.000-05:00

Lamb Bacon Fritters with Spinach Salad and Pumpkin Vinaigrette (only the fritters on this dish are mine)

We need a portable kitchen sink.

2012-01-19T20:45:00.002-05:00

After a long day of cooking, I did not want to come home and cook dinner, so we ordered Chinese. The following shenanigans ensued.

(sitting under a blanket on the couch) "I am freezing. But I want a drink. Will you make me a drink?"

"Nope. It's your fault it's cold, you keep the house too cold."

"I keep the house below the temperature in which germs flourish. It is healthier to keep the house this cold."

"That's what you say"

"No, that is actually true."

"I will bring you everything you need to make a drink to the couch so you don't have to get up."

"You realize it will just be easier to make the drink, right? Because I need the kitchen sink. Are you going to bring me the kitchen sink?"

"Yep."

"OK. Deal. You bring me the kitchen sink, I will make my own drink."

"You are so mean to me. I went and picked up dinner for you, I do the dishes for you."

"Running into the delivery guy on the front porch is not picking up dinner. That is basically just answering the door."

"Nope. I picked it up," he says as he sets the drink next to me.

OK. You win. You picked up dinner. Cheers.

Restaurant Week Day 4

2012-01-19T16:00:00.000-05:00

Asian Meatloaf with Hoison Gravy and Sweet Potato Mash

Restaurant Week Day 3

2012-01-18T16:00:00.000-05:00

Chicken Cordon Bleu Sandwich.

Restaurant Week Day 2

2012-01-17T16:00:00.000-05:00

Bacon and Blue Mac and Cheese.

Disclaimer

2012-01-16T23:02:00.001-05:00

The restaurant week posts are menu items I have created, but not specifically for restaurant week. Except the first one, the beet salad is on our restaurant week menu. Just a little showcase of me while I am too busy to post here.

Restaurant Week Day 1

2012-01-16T20:52:00.001-05:00

Beet and daikon salad with yellow pepper vinaigrette.

Get it first here: Erratic lost her shit. Oh, wait...that's not news.

2012-01-12T22:10:00.000-05:00

I feel like all I do is rant. I hope you all don't mind. Because I am about to do it again. Can we say instead of ranting I go on an angry tirade? I like that word.

I HATE when people go off about shit they know nothing about. A friend of mine on Facebook, not a real life friend, posted some FDA warning that she saw at a fast food restaurant that rhymes with DickDonalds. The warning basically said that eating their food would kill you. Well, duh.

First of all, she was SHOCKED by this information, which made me both sad and angry. That is another rant about knowing what you are putting in your body and understanding what it does to you. Gah!

Second of all, someone replied and said that anytime you grill something, the char that is on the meat or vegetable or whatever can cause cancer. And...my brain explodes. OK. Let's be realistic here. There are tons of things that can cause cancer in large amounts in lab rats. Or mice. Or whatever. People have been "charring" food forever. Literally. FOREVER. That is NOT the same as what DickDonalds is doing. It's just not. That is not even, really, food. By definition, it is edible. But, it is not "food" as you and I would understand it.

It is certainly not ground up chicken breast, battered, and fried in their chicken nuggets.

I am getting off point...the point is, I hate when people say shit for the shock value. When they go for the "OMG, I HAD NO IDEA, THAT IS TERRIBLE" reaction unless they know what the fuck they are talking about.

Two educated people disagreeing is one thing. But, for someone to say that you cannot char foods because it causes cancer is flat out ridiculous. Even more ridiculous? The post blew up with people being shocked and swearing off grilling.

And those people are also going to walk into my restaurant and want their fucking steak baked because the char marks are going to kill them.

Also, there is a difference between an intolerance and an allergy and GOD DAMMIT DON'T TELL ME YOU HAVE AN ALLERGY IF YOU ARE ACTUALLY JUST INTOLERANT OF SOMETHING. Or heaven forbid you just don't like it. I will respect it either way. But, an allergy is like walking into an ER and calling code red. We stop and wash everything, change our pans, our tongs, our gloves, our cutting boards, everything. Nobody wants to watch someone go into anaphylactic shock. But, if you tell me you are allergic to onions and I go to your table and say, well, we have these lily family (onions, garlic, etc) ingredients in our food and maybe you should just have a salad, and you say, well, they just give me gas, I am going to stab you in the throat.

OK, I won't. But, I will roll my eyes and just walk away. And be pissed. And rant. And then go on an angry tirade about it on my blog.

Look, if you are at a nice restaurant, we understand food allergies. IT IS OUR JOB. Please just be honest. It is, again, our job to make you happy.

And...that got off track. I am just going to stop here and hope you all continue reading after this. I may have just lost my shit. Halfway through the post I poured myself a drink. Yeah.

To sum up: Don't lie to servers. We all just want to make you happy. Even if you are picky. Oh, and don't talk shit if you don't have the facts to back it up. Word.

Mr. Belding would totally give me detention for this.

2012-01-10T19:52:00.001-05:00

Sometimes when people rave about something, I get annoyed and avoid it on principle. I always end up relenting and loving the thing WAY late when everyone else is over it.

This is not that situation.

Sometimes someone tells me I should do something and I refuse because I can't be bothered or I don't want to deal with it. It just seems like too much work for the reward I will get.

This is also not that situation.

Sometimes I just procrastinate things. There is always tomorrow. Tomorrow Erratic will handle it. Or maybe the day after that.

This is also not that situation.

Sometimes I am just an idiot. And nobody really tells me that I should do something, I just innately know, hey, you should do this. Why haven't you done this? And I just don't do it. It isn't even procrastinating. It is just a complete lack of interest in said thing.

This is totally that situation.

I used a hands free headset on my iPhone for the first time today. No, not the first time on my iPhone. THE FIRST TIME EVER. ON ANY PHONE.

I live in 1998 and someone should just hand me a Zach Morris phone and be done with it.

Usually when I am doing something that requires both hands, I either get off the phone or put the person on speaker phone. It's not like I talk on the phone THAT much. But, I usually talk on the phone in my car which is the WORST place to not use hands-free.

Today, I was on the phone with Tini and I wanted to walk Short Dog. But I wasn't done talking to Tini. And I knew my energy would fade and I would just procrastinate walking him until the boy came home and he did it. Wait, that isn't procrastination, is it? Hm.

So, I said, hey, I am going to dig out that hands free headset that I CARRY EVERYWHERE WITH ME.

That really is the worst part, isn't it? That it is always with me and I simply can't be bothered to use it.

I get it out, I plug it in, and voila. Hands free. I walked the dog. I made dinner. I cleaned the bathroom. I dusted the living room. YOU GUYS. It was like having a friend go everywhere with you while you get shit done. LOVED. IT.

I realize that all of you are like, well, yeah. I mean, we have known this since 2004 when everyone else figured it the fuck out. Also, here is your giant flip phone, you idiot.

I deserve that.

Diet, diet, diet, diet, diet...PINTEREST!

2012-01-09T21:03:00.000-05:00

Curry is not a thing. It is a spice mix created in England to replicate the flavors in Indian cuisine. There is no dish actually called curry, but rather it is a generic term for Indian food. This bothers me greatly and I had to share. I correct people on this often. Don't mess with my Indian food!
The guy with the cats is back. I am choosing to pretend as though he doesn't exist. Maturity is my thing. I have decided, mostly because of you guys and your support, to just stick it out and be curt and have a strictly professional relationship. Next Blog Post: Tales from prison: How I killed the cat guy with a bowl of couscous.
I am in a book rut. I need the next big thing, the next Harry Potter or Hunger Games or (cough, vomit) Twilight. I have read a Game of Thrones series too. Help. (ironically, I have not read The Help)
I have decided to start making my own facial care products - toner, moisturizer, soap. Now, before you all start complaining about the smell of patchouli...yeah, you should start complaining. I am turning into a giant, giant hippie. On a positive note, I am making SOAP, so I won't be a smelly hippie. On a negative note, I am one homemade shampoo away from starting a commune and gathering followers. I am thinking a lovely beach commune...where we manufacture beeswax because that shit is EXPENSIVE.
I have recently come across THREE things that are amazing. The unofficial Harry Potter recipe book, The Unofficial Hunger Games recipe book, and a blog where the writer made a cocktail for all the Harry Potter characters. Now, I ask you, who is coming to the dinner party? Ron sounds delicious.
Our basement is finally getting fixed. We decided to gut it (it was VERY poorly finished) and refinish it with the help of one of the guys I work with. So, survey says, is it super cheesy and trashy to do a sports themed room?
I'm bored. Winter bores me. I am going to whine until March. Brace yourselves.
I am hooked on pinterest. You guys should all do it and follow me and then we can share pretty things and food and dorky things. I don't totally understand it yet, but it is a great time killer. See #7. I just got lost for like an hour pinning pictures of food. Anywho...
I am so sick of green tea and water and steamed vegetables. I WANT SODA AND BEER AND FRIED THINGS. Dieting sucks ass. I mean trying to eat healthier. Ugh. I just want beer.
I went grocery shopping today and I do my best to bring my own bags (what's that smell? dirty hippie?) Well, today I brought two in and kept getting very strange looks as I was shopping. I always put them in the baby seat in my cart. Cut to the checkout and I start bagging my groceries...I totally brought the "Pet Funeral Services" bag from when Kobi died. Now, I have no issue with this, it's not like the ashes were just poured in the bottom. It is a perfectly good bag to, say, tote things to and from places where people know you. Not so much to be dressed in a chef's uniform at the grocery store. I can't even imagine what people thought.

Frustration times a million.

2012-01-07T13:03:00.000-05:00

I need to rant. And I don't really have anywhere else to do it because everyone I know has nice normal lives and are busy living them. And I don't want to ruin someone else's Saturday.

When I got my new job, while I was thrilled, I had some hesitation. The person who got me the job was someone I cut out of my life 6 or so years ago. I had recently just started talking to him again and made it very clear that our new relationship needed boundaries. Lots and lots of boundaries. Then I started working with him. And slowly but surely, those boundaries are becoming blurred. Late night drunk phone calls, asking me to constantly come over for dinner, and the latest, watching his cats while he was on vacation.

He was supposed to be back on Wednesday. He is still not back. So, I went over there yesterday to feed them and scoop the litter box. Well, his cockroaches are back. And I am not sure I have ever talked about this, but I have a paralyzing fear of bugs. I can't help it. I realize it is irrational. I realize that it makes me a complete fucking chicken shit. I can't help it. I start to panic, hyperventilate, sob uncontrollably. I can't help it. So, I quickly refilled their food and water and got out of there.

I called Krackle bawling. I didn't know what to do. The cats were covered in mats, because he doesn't brush them enough. They live in a basement with no beds, no carpeting. Nothing. The whole situation just broke my heart. Krackle works with the only other person stupid enough to still have this person in his life. He called me and I begged him to watch them until this other friend got back.

He said he would go pick them up, but under no circumstances was he spending time in that bug infested house. I agreed because nobody had any idea when they would be home. We spent last night making arrangements to get all the necessary supplies together and even discussed the boy going over and bombing their house because the cats would be out.

Cut to this morning. I get a phone from a total stranger asking me not to move the cats, that they will be home tomorrow. Apparently I have pissed him off so much, he can't even talk to me.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHERE I DID SOMETHING WRONG.

I am so annoyed because somehow, and this is his superpower, the reason I wanted him out of my life in the first place, a situation that he completely created and fucked me over with has made me feel bad. He has managed to get to me. Again. I am smarter than this. I KNOW this is what he does. Yet, here I am worrying that I have upset him and his husband. Worrying that I overreacted.

And I can't just walk away because I work with him every single day. Do I walk away from a job that I absolutely adore? Because I am seriously thinking about it. I want out. I want to be done. Surely, I can stop answering his phone calls. Be curt in passing at work. But, we are a kitchen of 5. You bring in that kind of tension and suddenly, the kitchen doesn't work anymore and I am the reason.

I don't know what to do. This is the second time in two days I have been in tears over this situation and I am just so angry. All of my actions were out of love for those two poor cats. I feel terrible about the way I left them.

I have managed to get myself into an impossible situation with no way out. Again. With him. And I think the only answer is to start looking for a new job.

Zumba: A Review

2012-01-04T20:18:00.000-05:00

The boy and I are trying to lose weight and get in shape. We did not mean for it to coordinate with New Years, it just worked out that way.

This involves me drinking less (THE HORROR) and giving up soda completely (ALSO, THE HORROR.)

I am cooking healthier. This week we have had lentils and brown rice. And salads with every meal. With fresh squeezed lemon and pepper instead of salad dressing. The food has been awesome. It really has. It makes a huge difference cooking healthy when you know how to make it taste good without added calories and fat.

I miss soda, but I have been drinking tea, which is nice since it has been cold as shit here.

The other thing I am doing is being active every single day in a way that is NOT work. Today I took Short Dog for a mile walk and saw a woman walking a cat. No, that is not a typo. It had a leash.

Yesterday I did Zumba for the first time. Those of you that do not know what Zumba is, it is a latin dance/workout video thing. I haven't gotten past the basics DVD which essentially just walks you through the dance moves.

Now. I am not coordinated. Not at all. You all know this. So, imagine taking me, someone who cannot walk straight, and have them trying to do things like Samba. And other latin dance things.

It went something like this:

Z: "Now, everybody let's take two steps to the right and clap."

E: "I've got this. Stepping Clapping. Yes."

Z: "Now, lets swing our hips in a circular motion while we step. Don't forget to clap!"

E: " Hips sort of swinging. I look like a little bit like a bee is attacking me, but it's OK. I am doing this!"

Z: "Now let's do that twice as fast, clap, and swing our arms so that we look like we have been a professional dancer for 17 years!"

E: "What happened to the stepping and the clapping? I almost had the hip swinging down! This is so fast! I must look ridiculous! But I am having fun!"

Z: "Now that you have our first step down, only 19 more to go. The next step involves solving world peace while humping the couch!"

E: sobs in corner while slowly moving hips in a circular motion.

Needless to say, day 1 Zumba was a wee bit challenging. However...despite the crippling self doubt and complete and utter thanks for a lack of mirror, I had a lot of fun. I am excited to do it again tomorrow. I have a feeling I will never be good at this, it is something fun that I will enjoy doing while getting fit at the same time.

But...all I want is a beer. Sigh.

Portrait of a Hoarder

2012-01-04T19:51:00.000-05:00

Alternate Title: Look! I can use Instagram! (This is probably the only time I will ever use Instagram.)

2011: Holy Fuck, where did it go?

2012-01-02T00:21:00.002-05:00

*I had this almost typed up when Josey posted her version, so now I feel like I am stealing from TWO people. Thievery is what it is, I suppose. I also find it kind of funny that we both thought to steal this idea.

I got this idea from All & Sundry. She does it every year and I have been tempted to follow suit for a long time. It is a good way to do a recap, which seems to be the trend in the blogosphere. Also, my other option was ranting about a terrible new show on Food Network that is making me twitchy. I figured this was more interesting.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you have never done before?

I worked in a real kitchen. I have food on a menu. I have made huge strides in my culinary career.

I went to Orlando (never been before) and went to Universal Studios and had the best day of my life. I can't help it...that was just an amazing, amazing week. Quality time with the boy, feeling like a kid, warm beautiful weather...amazing.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions and will you make more next year?

No and no. I don't do New Years resolutions. I feel like it is a huge let down. Nobody ever sticks to them. I prefer to just make changes at my own pace. Yes, there are things I am starting this year, but they have nothing to do with a resolution. More with the conclusion of the holiday season.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes! So many babies. Krackle, Josey, my friend K who I have never talked about here. Krackle's sister. My cousin's twins. Holy shit, you guys. 2011 was the year of the baby.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Babies Sophia and Avelina. While I was not necessarily close to them in the traditional sense, their deaths changed my world. I am shocked every day by how much I miss something and someone I never even knew.

5. What countries did you visit?

The good old United States. I fail at travel.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

This was such a huge year for me...I graduated college, started my career, turned 30 in the most fabulous of ways, found the perfect job that allowed me to spend more time with the people I love. If 2012 can match 2011, I will be ecstatic.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched in your memory and why?

July 24th - I graduated college. I know I am old and that isn't that serious, but it was important to me to accomplish this before I turned 30.

August 1st - The day that my life changed forever and two friends became much more than I ever imagined.

September 26th - I turned 30 at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Need I say more?

8. What are your biggest achievements of the year?

Graduating. Working. Striving to make a career out of a passion. This year has been the year of food and my life in the culinary world.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I didn't realize it at the time, but my attempt at working second shift. I alienated a lot of people. I went out too much and created a life I am not proud of. I love the people I met, though. But, I much prefer a life where I am up early enough to spend time with the people I love.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Ha! I only attempted to cut off my finger in a meat slicer. The nail that is partially cut through has almost grown out...then I will only have a tiny red scar. It seems odd to me that only that will be left.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I honestly don't know how to answer this...money this year has gone to Neil's surgery, putting down Kobi, a leaky basement, various car ailments...we got a 42 inch TV for the living room for $330. I will go with that. Oh, and vacation. That was money well spent too!

12. Where did most of your money go?

Pets. Always. Fucking pets. I love them so much...I just wish they weren't so expensive.

13.What did you get really excited about?

Graduation. Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Mostly the latter.

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Our pastry chef plays a top 40 station in the prep room and the sous chef plays a hard rock station on the line. So, my mornings are spent walking between pop and rock. Curiously, since I don't really like pop, those are the songs that stuck with me the most.

LMFAO - Sexy and you know it.

PitBull - Give me everything

I have spent the rest of the year in rock listening to Five Finger Death Punch and Mudvayne.

15. Compared to this time last year, you are...

Happier/Sadder? Happier. The boy and I are in a better place, my career is in a better place, my relationship with my friends is only getting better...so much happier.

Thinner/Fatter? Fatter. For sure. When I left old job, the craziness of working in high volume went away. Also, I can eat at my new job. These two things combined have not been good for my nonexistent waist line. Shit is going to change. Or at least I keep telling myself.

Richer/Poorer? About the same. Which is poor. I make $11/hr. There is only poor.

16. What do you wish you had done more of?

Read. Write. Exercise. Eat out. Cook. Everything. Isn't that human nature? We always want more of the things we love.

17. What do you wish you had done less of?

I choose not to regret. I can't. It would paralyze me.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

At a bar with the boy, my grandpa, and my dad playing bingo. We do this every year. My stepmom leaves town, I already do Christmas with my mom the weekend before. It is nice...I enjoy having a relaxing day of just hanging out and relaxing.

19. What was your favorite TV program?

Ah! This is so hard. Top Chef will forever be my favorite, but I choose to think in terms of new TV. Once Upon a Time may be my new favorite. I have a weakness for fairy tales. Especially if they contain magic.

20. What are your favorite books of the year?

Hunger Games

Girl with a Dragon Tattoo Series

Inheritance, the final book in the Eragon series

I read so much it is hard to even remember. Those three really stood out, though.

21. What was your favorite music of the year?

For whatever reason, I fell back in love with Mudvayne. I can't get enough. For months over the summer, it was all I listened to in my car. Now that I don't really have a commute...I listen to far less music. Which is sad.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows II. Hands Down. Winner. Amazing.

Girl with a Dragon Tattoo.

23. What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?

The big 3-0. I went to the only place I could truly be a kid...The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Best Day of My Life.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Winning the lottery? Discovering magic was real? I don't know. This year was pretty bad ass.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

This shit is hilarious. Um. I am currently wearing a "Spock, paper, scissors" T-Shirt and sweatpants. I think this pretty much says it all.

26. What kept you sane?

The boy. My friends. My family. Alcohol.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.

You can't choose your family. Sometimes they are blood relatives and sometimes they aren't. Surrounding yourself with people who make you better, people who make you happier...that is life. That is love. That is everything. You all have given me strength and love and happiness. I couldn't possibly ask for more.

I can't live without water, food, and air. And that's about it.

2011-12-29T20:07:00.000-05:00

I am currently watching a recorded in the theater version of Breaking Dawn. Like, someone stood up in front of the camera at one point. It is a terrible recording. Which is fitting. It is a terrible movie.

Here is the thing. I read all the books because I read. Everything. Post of the FOUR bookshelves we bought that don't quite fit all my books coming soon. And that doesn't count the thousands I have for my kindle. I couldn't NOT read it. It was entertaining when the story did not have Bella and Edward in it. So, barely at all.

I posted something on Facebook the other day that about sums it up for me...When Hermione loses the love of her live, she continues trying to save the world. When Bella loses the love of her life, she curls up in a ball in the forest for hours. I would much rather be like Hermione.

Anyway, so terrible copy of the movie. On top of terrible copy of the movie, the boy spent the first 30 minutes making TERRIBLE vampire jokes. Like "oh, gee, I hope she doesn't get bitten," and then giggled to himself. I was forced to banish him from the room until the movie was over.

I forgot why I was posting this other than to say, I really dislike this entire franchise. I dislike the never ending love and the "I can't live without you." How about, I choose not to live without you? How about I don't want to live without you?

Yes, there are certain scenes that are romantic and sweet. There are parts of the book that are romantic and funny, in a poorly written kind of way.

Give me wizards and strong women over shiny, sparkly vampires and I can't live without you any day.

And if I ever have little girls, fuck Snow White and Prince Charming. We will write our own fairy tales together. And we will read hundreds of books together. And if they ever want to read Twilight, fine. But, there will be a long sit down talking about how love is important, but so is independence. And, for the love of God, CHOOSE THE WOLF. Yeesh.

It is a wonder I have friends at all.

2011-12-28T17:30:00.001-05:00

Hi. It's me again, your obnoxious neighbor who won't shut up about the Whitman's down the street not mowing their yard.

That metaphor was terrible.

I am about to bitch about the American food system. WHAT? ME? Never. Psht.

Read This:

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/12/27/bacteria-1-f-d-a-0/?ref=opinion

It's not long. And I know I post this guy's stuff all the time. And I know that I am obnoxiously opinionated. But, if just one of you picks up the antibiotic free chicken at the store instead of something from Purdue. Or Tyson. Or one of the other conglomerates that is poisoning our country, then I made a difference.

Buy local. Buy antibiotic free. I know it's expensive, believe me, I know. But it's worth it.

Rant over. Please resume your regularly scheduled reading of people who are not opinionated ass holes.

Don't mock my organizational excitement.

2011-12-27T19:10:00.000-05:00

Have you ever seen "Extreme Couponing" on TLC? Holy. Balls. I just watched some dude buy 1200 12 oz bottles of Lipton Iced Tea. FOR FREE. I only started watching this because I know someone who kind of coupons, at least compared to these people. Sometimes I cut out coupons and leave them in my wallet...but that probably doesn't count.
Go out and buy Archer Farms Tex Mex Trail Mix RIGHT NOW. Go. That is the Target food brand for those of you that don't know. NOW GO.
If you do go buy some, also pick up some Tums. Spicy, spicy shit. And if you are anything like me, you will eat almost the whole container. OK...the whole container.
It is that time of year when there is NOTHING to do. Everyone hibernates and only leaves when they have to...TV sucks...I get restless being inside all the time...work will be slow. Blech. Next Blog Title? How To Sort Your Lint.
I am going to start Zumba after the first of the year. It is not a New Years Resolution, the boy just has the rest of the year off and will point and laugh at me while I fumble through the latin dance moves. And by fumble I mean trip over my own feet, fall down, and just give up and do jumping jacks until the video is over.
Don't forget the Tums. There is a hole in my stomach in the shape of a salsa corn stick.
I hate when people name drop. Like, hey, I have cooked for P. Diddy. Awesome for you...did he like the food? Because that is all that really matters. Anybody who tries hard enough can get the catering gig.
The other day at the store this woman was FLIPPING out because the meat counter was grinding more meat for the ground beef sale. I calmly stood by and watched her unravel, playing on my phone while the butcher did his job. The husband looks at me, looks at her, and says; "Why can't you be cool like her?" I literally saw his murder play out in her head. Wrong move, buddy. Wrong move.
I found my book of crosswords and can't put it down. I love doing crosswords and Sudoku and shit. It keeps me from eating an entire pound of Tex Mex Trail Mix while watching TV and whining because my toes are cold. Oh, yeah. You know you want to live with me.
Due to the flood, we are remodeling the basement. Which means we are rearranging the whole house so that the "man cave" can be as amazing as possible. Or some shit. All my books are moving to the guest room and I get to organize them. Suggestions on an organizational style? I have two 5 shelf bookshelves and two 3 shelf bookshelves. I just can't decide! By category? By read and unread? By author? Alphabetically? What is the easiest to maintain? Although I must admit, my default "by size" is awfully tempting.

One Should Not Stalk One's Own Blog

2011-12-25T23:27:00.001-05:00

I don't know how to open here! You guys! I accidentally, intentionally clicked on that whole google "who is stalking your ass" link on blogger. Why? Why did I do this?

Ever since telling my story on violence unsilenced weird shit has happened. I expected an influx of people reading, briefly, then I expected them to realize I was a raving lunatic and lose interest. Which, some of them did. Some of them stuck around. (Hi! I love you for sticking around.)

Then I looked at the sources of my readers and was all..wait, what? Pinterest (my tattoo, which I kind of love that it is linked) and links from comments on blogs I have never even heard of, and a link to this post which I wrote a year ago. And people trying to figure out who I am. Two people, in fact. Unless you are searching from two different IP's.

Here's the thing...I love all of you. I really do. New and old alike. I want to know all of you.

But, please don't try to figure out who I am. I mean...get to know me, and I will tell you. I am not THAT private. I wrote a very private piece on a website meant for these kind of confessions. I chose to reveal to my readers that I wrote this. I realize that I made a public declaration on a public site. But, googling "who is erratictheblog?" is a little creepy. Please stop. Become a part of all of this, become a part of this site and you will know exactly who I am. Everyone who comments regularly has met me in real life or at the very least knows my real name and plans to meet me in real life.

On a more hilarious note, here is what people searched to find me:

Stupid Ohio

Baby Giraffe laying down

Cee Lo Arms

Diagnose My Anxiety

Erratic Shoes

Fuck Insurance

Fucking Sinus Infection

Holy Statutory Rape, Batman

It was erratic

Penis Vagina

I would like to imagine the disappointment on someone's face when my blog comes up for the last one...I am pretty sure that was NOT in fact their intention.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday.

Also, Holy Statutory Rape, Batman. Because, shit. That is EXACTLY what this blog is about.

Indian Feast

2011-12-24T23:05:00.002-05:00

My dad doesn't like "things." He likes events, quality time. Last summer for his birthday we took him on a Taco Truck Tour. This year for Christmas I made him a 6 course Indian tasting menu. Indian is his favorite. It went so smoothly I thought it was a trap. Tini, who helped me do the prep Friday night, made the comment that I was going to wake up to a missing stove because he couldn't believe it.

So, without further ado, here are the pictures.

Since we don't have a kitchen table, the boy brought a card table from work. I think the table turned out quite pretty. Except for the candle that is clearly falling over. Thankfully we got that in the picture.

Deep Fried Chickpeas with homemade garam masala. That is my dad waiting ever so patiently to refill his bowl.

Cauliflower Pakora with Cilantro-Mint Chutney. This is not he prettiest plate of the day. I was pretty unhappy with it.

Carrot Ginger Soup. And a close up of the menu.

Spinach Salad with toasted cumin seeds.

Chicken Tikka Masala over Pea and Cilantro Basmati Rice.

I don't know how to describe this. It is called a ricotta cheese cake, but it was more like a cookie. It was spiced with cardamom pods, pistachios, and almonds. Delicious.

I hope all of you have a holiday filled with delicious food and even more delicious memories.

As Josey would say...HFS

2011-12-21T23:05:00.000-05:00

Has something ever just slapped you in the face? You are sitting there, living life as normal, and a realization just completely takes you off guard. You doubt it, you are in total disbelief, but suddenly, it is real. It is everything.

I am a chef.

I do not have the title, mind you.

But, I am a chef.

I have dishes that I CREATED on restaurant menus. Top 10 in the city rated menus.

I am putting together menu's for special occasions...restaurant week. Christmas Eve. New Years Eve.

The owner of my restaurant comes to me when he is in a desperate situation for menu ideas. When nobody else comes through.

I have increased our lunch business with new ideas, awesome features, and just plain good food.

Holy Shit.

You guys...holy shit.

So, so many things

2011-12-20T21:06:00.002-05:00

This is going to be a long one. I suggest grabbing yourself a drink and putting on your comfy pants. Or no pants. But, if your laptop gets hot like mine, at least a blanket. Singed thighs are never a good thing.

Last weekend I went back to StL for Christmas with my mom's side of the family. The weekend started with a 6 am flight. SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. I am not a morning person. Getting up at 4 am was not pleasant.

Then the boy and I met Bradshaw for lunch, which was all kinds of awesome. For whatever reason, these encounters always make me ridiculously nervous. It is easy to hide behind a computer and a smart ass blog. It is much harder to be in person and enjoy someone's company. Both times I have hung out with Bradshaw, 30 seconds into it, I have remembered why we are friends in the first place because it is always like we have been friends for a decade and see each other every day. I love this.

The usual craziness of my family ensued. My grandmother is on some sort of anti-China campaign and refuses to use, buy, eat, or be near anything made in China. This led to us frantically unwrapping all her presents and removing various made from china stickers and blacking out the same labels on boxes. All made in Argentina. Yep. Sure thing. Some favorite quotes from the weekend;

"Sometimes I am just walking and I forget I have feet." (After falling over for absolutely no reason.)

"You know, I never noticed, but you have no ass." (To my mother's husband)

There were more, but neither the boy nor I can remember them. The crazy ass apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I am afraid. I think I am slowly turning into her.

Saturday night, we went out for my sister's birthday/her friend's birthday. It was this little microbrewery and it was AMAZING. They had a girl scout cookie beer that tasted just like a thin mint. The rest of their beers were pretty delicious too. It was literally a guy who bought a bar and put the brewing equipment in what would normally be the office. It was really cool to see someone so small time doing so well. The place was packed.

Sunday we went to brunch at her house and she pulled out all of my art from when I was a kid. Like, two years old. I have been taking art classes since I was old enough to hold a paint brush. There is one called "Might be a Bird" and one called "Mosquito." It was quite funny to see paint strewn all over a page and my grandmother's interpretations.

Work has been kind of odd this week, a weird mix of slow during the busy times and busy during the slow times. Super frustrating.

I am also making a 6 course Indian meal for my dad as his Christmas present. I am pretty nervous because I feel extremely unprepared. Mostly because I haven't prepared. So, work needs to stop being an ass hole and give me some time to work on some of this shit. It is always nice to do your testing on someone else's dime.

So, there is the update of Christmas #1 and why I will be very absent through the rest of this week. However...I will definitely be posting all of the pictures of the dinner on the 24th!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whatever it is you celebrate.

Shit I Say

2011-12-14T17:30:00.004-05:00

I know I am probably super late sharing this, but I just saw it on another blog and DIED. I say all of this. And the number of times I call and ask people if they are near a computer is ridiculous.

I got tagged, y'all.

2011-12-12T18:43:00.000-05:00

I should never ever ever say y'all again. Sorry about that.

But, I did. Get tagged. I never get tagged. Mostly because I feel like people assume that I am too angry to care? Or too snarky? I like being called snarky. Or insane. Because those are all valid assumptions. It's mostly because I never get tagged. Which is totally fine, because I don't want my blog to become an entire blog of responding to things I am tagged in. Ha. Who am I kidding? There are not that many readers and I have zero follow through. But, I am going to respond to this one.

It is from Amy who started following me, then I started following her, and here we are. I assume she was one of the many new followers from Josey. I just started reading Amy, who I assume just started reading me too? I think. God, I fail at this shit. Blanket apology to everyone, ever. I never comment, I never respond to comments, but I do read. I read every word all of you write. Sorry I am, once again, a giant ass hole. I love you. So, thank you Amy, for tagging me and I look forward to getting to know you better, but still probably not commenting. Again...ass hole.

There are rules and shit.

Thank the person that sent it to you. I totally did that! Thanks Amy!
List 7 things people may not know about you. Eek. I am such a private person. Ha! I almost choked on my beer just typing that.
Pass the award on to 15 other bloggers. I am probably not going to do this one. I certainly do not have 15 people I read that would be willing to participate.

Here we go....

In high school, I was something of an artist. I had a private show at the University City Library in St. Louis and was published in many local papers. The photograph in my header I took in Puerto Rico. Obviously it has been fucked with a tad. I can paint, make pottery, make handmade books, collage, and write poetry. My poetry has also been published, but I won't tell where! If I were not a chef, I would be a writer or a photographer.
I have seven million and one scrap booking supplies in my basement. I have not touched a scrap book in years, but people keep buying them for me, so I stockpile. I have NO idea what to do with it all. I keep telling myself if I ever have kids, I will want all of it.
When I was little, I taught myself how to read by memorizing words instead of sounding them out phonetically. When I entered kindergarten, my teacher had me tested for several learning disabilities, including autism and mental retardation, because I couldn't learn to read phonetically. Needless to say, all those tests came back proving that I was in fact above the average intelligence and just a stubborn ass hole.
I used to travel around with my grandmother doing art shows as a kid (her art, not mine.) While in Milwaukee, I got to see Jeffrey Dahmer's apartment after he was arrested and before it was demolished. I may not believe in God, but that single experience has made me believe in evil. I can't even explain what standing in front of that apartment felt like. I have been obsessed with reading about serial killers ever since. I want to understand what makes them different than you and me.
I was arrested when I was 17 years old for underage possession of tobacco. There was a warrant out for my arrest for a while, until I hired a friend's mom to show up for my court date and take care of it. The arrest was made two weeks before I turned 18. (note: I no longer smoke)
I have a total of two stepbrothers and 4 stepsisters. I have never met one of my stepbrothers. I am not close to any of them, although I did briefly live with my stepsister when I first moved to Ohio.
When I was in second grade, two kids were not allowed to be in the bathroom together, so we had a boys ruler and a girls ruler we had to put on our desk if we were in the bathroom. My teacher accidentally misplaced the girls ruler, but insisted someone was in the bathroom. She made me wait so long, I wet my pants. In my brownie uniform. I ran out of the class in tears.

There you have it. If you would like to participate, well, do it. It was kind of fun, I must admit. Except for the peeing my pants. That shit was HILARIOUS...now.

Daring to rise up from the ash

2011-12-11T02:14:00.001-05:00

I have three tattoos. The first I got for my 21st birthday with Krackle. It is a Celtic symbol that means divine inspiration and knowledge. I love it because it reminds me of her.

The second tattoo is a long story that I never told here. It is essentially for my dad. One day I will share. Today is about the third tattoo.

This is the third tattoo:

Big Jed and I went and got them today. She got a picture of her baby girls feet and their names, a picture I will let her share. I debated what I wanted...and decided on a Phoenix with their first initials. Sophia and Avelina, S and A. Which is funny if you know me and know my real name. It was important to me that this was her story, so I wanted something subtle. But, I also wanted to remember them and to have a part of her always with me.

I decided on a Phoenix because of an Ani Difranco song. The song doesn't necessarily fit the situation, but it has always touched me and spoken a lot about who I am. If you know the song, I sort of chopped it up to give you the parts that I am talking about.

Squint your eyes and look closer

I am not between you and your ambition

I am a poster girl with no poster.

I am thirty two flavors and then some

And I am beyond your peripheral vision

So you might want to turn your head

Cause some day you are gonna get hungry

And eat most of the words you just said

And God help you if you are an ugly girl

Course too pretty is also your doom

Because everyone harbors a secret hatred

For the prettiest girl in the room

And God help if you are a phoenix

And you dare to rise up from the ash

A thousand eyes will smolder with jealously

While you are just flying there.

The first tattoo is on my back, the second on my wrist, the third on my left calf. Let me tell you something about tattoos...they don't really hurt on your back or your arm. THEY FUCKING HURT ON YOUR LEG. Holy hell do they hurt. The tattoo took an hour and a half too, where as the other two are smaller and took less than an hour combined.

Regardless, I am in love with it. It is everything I wanted.

I am now going to go hobble into the kitchen and make myself some food. Oh, yes, I said hobble. Yay for leg tattoos.

Unsilenced

2011-12-09T00:27:00.001-05:00

I know I am a little late as this technically should have ran on the 8th, but to all my readers not on EST, I am so on time. Hell yes.

Maggie asked people to reach out and I am going to. I am not going to say much or follow the script posted on the site.

I am just going to say this. That website helped ME. It helped me find a voice. It helped me feel like other people were out there that understood. That didn't think I was overreacting or being over sensitive. That realized everything that happened to me changed me.

Someone you know has gone through some sort of abuse. The statistic is 1 in 3 women. Think about that...you know someone that has been abused, is being abused, or will be abused. This is huge.

The people that read this blog have huge hearts and are amazing people, man and woman alike. Look for the signs. Reach out to someone. Lend a supportive ear. Nobody is saying change the world. You all heard my story and said amazing, supportive things.

I love you all so much. And if you are the 1 in 3, know that I will be there. Know that I will love you, unconditionally. That I believe you. That I will do anything to be there for you.

Unsilenced. It is important.

http://www.blogher.com/unsilencing-violence-helping-abuse-survivors-tell-their-story

BABY!!!!

2011-12-08T16:49:00.001-05:00

Josey had her baby!!!!

Big Jed texted me at work, probably because I don't have internet access and she knew I would want to know. She is considerate like that.

So, I am standing at the hand sink and look at my phone and squealed and jumped up and down.

All three guys on the line were just staring at me.

"My friend had her baby! I am so excited!"

To which one of them responds, "stop making girl noises," and another one says, "who broke Erratic?"

I laughed and one of the guys asked if I was going to cancel my plans for the evening and go see the baby.

"Well, she lives in Colorado, so no. And I have never actually met her in person. But, I feel like I have known her forever. We met on the internet?" As I am telling this story, my voice is faltering as the looks keep getting stranger and stranger from the guys.

"You do know that was out loud, right? And that "no" would have been an appropriate answer?"

Sigh. Sometimes the awkward just spills out. I can't help it. I have to share.

Congrats Josey! I am so happy you finally have your baby girl in your arms.

Shit The Boy Says While Going Through My Books

2011-12-07T18:31:00.001-05:00

You have a giant pop up book. About a girl. (queue dancing with said book)

Why do you have a book about social problems? You were going to be a social worker? I can see you being compassionate but every once in a while you would just go the fuck off on someone.

Do you need your 2006 annual international fuel ethanol workshop program guide. Also, is there something you aren't telling me?

It is going to take 8 boxes to box up one of my bookshelves. I may have a problem...and in his defense he has only had like 3 hours of sleep. But I can't stop laughing.

Fucking fuck. Rant.

2011-12-06T00:30:00.001-05:00

We had to rip up carpet.

And lock the animals out.

Who are now freaking out because OMG EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING IN THAT ROOM RIGHT NOW.

The water isn't stopping.

I am WIRED and have to go into work early tomorrow.

Fuck this mother fucking day.

I just needed to rant.

We can't afford to fix this and the condo association has pretty much declared they are out of money.

I need to win the lottery and sell this leaking shit hole and move to the city so I can have a new leaking shit hole.

I love my home.

Fuck. I am pissed. And giving up. And pissed.

Fuck.

And you thought YOU were having a bad day.

2011-12-05T22:10:00.001-05:00

The Boy: "Short Dog peed on the floor down here."

Erratic: "Probably because it is raining and he wouldn't go out."

The Boy: "Holy shit, that is a lot of pee." (as he is carrying carpet squares outside to be hosed down tomorrow)

Erratic: "MmmHmm. Pee. Yep."

The Boy: "Wait a minute, the whole basement is wet. HOLY SHIT, I JUST LEFT A WET FOOTPRINT IN THE CARPET."

Erratic: "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." (opening bottle of wine, pouring big girl glass)

The Boy: "IT ISN'T JUST DRIPPING ANYMORE."

Erratic: "Yep, that is definitely a stream of water." (chugging wine)

The Boy: "We need to move this book case. Can you help me?"

Erratic: "No, no, NO. STOP. MOVING. THE. BOOK. CASE."

Bookcase collapses into approximately 7 million pieces, strewing books everywhere. I walk upstairs and take a shot of Jack.

Fuck. My. Life.

The Plague

2011-12-05T19:05:00.001-05:00

So...the plague has hit work. Well, more specifically, chicken pox. Let me start at the beginning.

The General Manager of our restaurant came in one day and when I glanced at him, I squealed and said "What the fuck happened to your face?" Because his face was covered in what I believed to be hives. He also thought they were hives and we went through his entire Thanksgiving weekend trying to figure out what he came into contact with. We were on WebMD because not only was he covered in hives, he had a fever.

Now, this is where all of you should say "AND HE CAME TO WORK?" Which is exactly what I was yelling at him for a good hour before I convinced him to quarantine himself to the basement office. I am not even kidding. I would not let him be seen by the public.

He went to the doctor and called in...chicken pox. Huh. Well, I have had chicken pox, so I am good. Everyone has had chicken pox. Surely this will not spread like wildfire through the entire restaurant.

We had another one of the front of house managers call in today with, you guessed it, chicken pox. There are three other people that have never had it, two of which work in the kitchen. There are only five of us in the kitchen. This is essentially half our staff.

I find this weird because when I was growing up, everyone had chicken pox parties. Have a friend with chicken pox? Well, you march right over there and rub yourself all over them, young lady. And just to be safe, lick a pox. OK, my mother never told me to lick them. That's gross. When my sister and I had them, we had neighborhood kids coming through the house like we were some sort of circus act hoping to get exposed. Am I the only person who went through this?

Clearly no one I work with did.

I looked up some statistics...less than 5% of adults are at risk of contracting chicken pox either because they have been vaccinated or had it as a child.

So, what are the chances that there are FIVE people at my work that fit into this 5%?

Also, if all five of these people are gone at the same time, my life is going to get very difficult very fast.

Bah Humbug

2011-12-04T13:41:00.001-05:00

Bradshaw is decorating her tree today and posting the progress on Twitter.

Big Jed just put up her tree.

Krackle is posting Christmas pics of the kids.

I helped decorate my parent's house Thanksgiving weekend.

All the neighbors have lights out and trees shining in their windows.

Maybe it is because our families are all going to be gone this year.

Maybe it is because we already bought our Christmas present to each other.

Maybe it's just because I am a big, fucking giant Scrooge.

I want to decorate the house and feel in the Christmas spirit, I really do.

It just isn't in me this year. And it's kind of depressing.

Bah Humbug.

The post where I discover that I am the problem.

2011-11-30T18:52:00.001-05:00

I have this thing with blogs. If you make it hard for me to read, or are constantly posting ridiculously long entries that are boring, or have 15 million archives that I don't have time to read and it is impossible for me to just jump in...yeah. I am not going to keep reading you. I'm just not.

Someone today said that having a conversation with me is like diffusing a bomb. There is very limited time for it to happen before my ADD takes over and I have moved on. I don't know that I actually have ADD. I was told once that if I can read a book for more than an hour, I don't have ADD. YET. It is nearly impossible for me to carry on a conversation sometimes because there is so much shit in my head.

I am digressing here. My blogging pet peeve and pretty much a guarantee I won't read you anymore...putting only a little blurb of your blog on my reader and making me click on it to read more. I read 99% of my blogs from my phone. So, if not only do you make me click, but your site isn't mobile friendly, you are pretty much dead to me.

But, there is this blog that I love that is like this. It is fairly new blog about the drinking scene in the city. Everything from what our local distilleries are doing, lists of local Christmas ales and bars with the best happy hours. It is an awesome site. But, I find myself just marking it all as read and moving on because I don't want to click on the damn website. And the website takes FOREVER to load. FOREVER. Because it has flash! FLASH! The sin of all sins. Who uses flash? Gah!

It is so frustrating because it is like this site is made for me. It is everything I want to know about beer/wine/liquor. And it is helpful to my job because we only carry local microbrews, so knowing what is out there is key.

I tried leaving them unread until I am at my computer. Just now I had 30 unread posts from them. I took one look at that list and just marked them as read.

I realize this is a ridiculously long and boring blog post and I am pretty much a giant hypocrite, but it made me so mad. Two weeks of alcohol knowledge I will never know. Life is sad.

What are your blogging pet peeves? I am curious. Also, I probably do all of them.

Stupid Winter in Stupid Ohio is STUPID.

2011-11-29T17:28:00.001-05:00

This is the time of year when I want to curl up in a ball on the couch and never leave the house. I don't think I have seasonal affective disorder or anything. I just hate the dreary, cold, Ohio winters. But, I have shit I need to get done. Like running errands. And grocery shopping. When it is nice outside, it is perfectly reasonable to come home from work, change, and go back out. Yet, here I am on the couch fully dressed justifying not going out. I have frozen vegetables and all that pork and rice, I could easily make a delicious meal out of that. And I can totally go get the stuff to make Christmas presents this weekend. And that beer/wine is not going to drink itself. Well, it's settled. I am staying home!

See. This is what I do. And I am trying REALLY hard to not do this. It is 5:30. Yes, it is pitch black outside and raining, but it is 5:30. The boy will not be home for dinner until around 7 or 8. I have tons of time to accomplish this tonight.

But, I. DON'T. WANNA.

Welcome to December through March with Erratic. It's just months of convincing myself that Ramen and frozen peas is a perfectly acceptable adult meal and Amazon has lovely, not homemade presents I could buy and have delivered in just two short days.

Amazon sells groceries, right? I think I may be on to something here....

Thanksgiving Roundup

2011-11-27T21:10:00.001-05:00

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Here is a brief summary of mine.

Wednesday - Airports. More airports. Delayed flights. Airports. Yay!

Thursday - My cousin's wife's brother-in-law was stabbed and killed Wednesday night, so Thanksgiving was a tad somber. He was only 26 and it was just a random crime while he was waiting for a cab outside of a bar. They have the man in custody and hopefully justice will be served. Other than that, my niece who I have not seen in about 5 years was in town. I should clarify - step niece. We spent a lot of time together and took about an hour walk where we just talked. I wish her life wasn't so hard, but holy shit, she is an amazing kid.

Friday - Another drunken decorating success! At some point I drunkenly recited an X-rated version of A Night Before Christmas to a room full of about 20 people. My dad laughed so hard he fell over. There is supposedly video. I will do my best to figure out how to post just the sound. Once I hear it and make sure I didn't sound like a total fucking moron.

Saturday - We lost to Michigan for the first time in 7 years...on a nostalgic note, the last time we lost to them, Facebook didn't exist. Nor did iPhones. These facts make me feel better. Stupid Maize and Blue.

Sunday - Our anniversary is on Tuesday, so we went out to dinner and then to the Blue Jackets game versus the St. Louis Blues (WE WON!) Yes, I am still a Blues girl at heart. And I completely thought of Bradshaw the whole time. There was a crazy drunk guy who looked like he fell out of 1976 two rows in front of us who was also a Blues fan. Clearly, Bradshaw was the better choice in ally.

Random Weekend Thoughts - My cousin's twins are possibly the cutest things ever. Big Jed knitted them Sock Monkey hats and my cousin bought them matching outfits for Drunken Decorating. They are just so amazingly independent and well behaved. Probably because they have damn good parents. I fall in love with them more and more every time I see them.

My cousin (the boy one, not the one with twins) taught my cat how to fetch. There is stuffed football making appearances in my dreams now. NCH will not let this game die.

I cooked the food for Drunken Decorating and it was a hit. I realize that this seems obvious to some of you, but I often am amazed that I can do this. It felt good to have other people agree.

The wake is today and the funeral tomorrow for my cousin's brother in law. I don't pray, so I would never ask you to do so. But, good thoughts her way. Her family needs this during this senseless tragedy. I feel so bad for her.

My sister only threw a few temper tantrums, but was generally pleasant. I found myself happy to see her. She even talked about having kids...which...sort of made me fear for humanity. But, baby steps. It was a good trip.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving full of loving family, hilarity, and comfort. Oh, and cats that can't fetch.

Dinner Follow-Up

2011-11-22T22:31:00.001-05:00

I know that almost zero of you care about this, but I have to gush. And I almost did it on Facebook, except I tagged the restaurant in the post and I felt like a total food dweeb.

My dinner this evening was absolutely balls to the wall, epic, fucking awesome.

We started with Oysters on the half shell that had an AMAZING cocktail sauce that tasted nothing like generic shrimp cocktail sauce. Imagine that with the sweetness of pomegranate. It was just unreal. I can take or leave oysters...this was probably the single greatest bite of food that I have had in a year. I am not even kidding.

Then we moved on to escargot cassoulet. Now...if you have never had escargot, I am judging you. It is delicious. Not in an acquired taste way either. I only excuse you if you do not like the texture of mushrooms because they are very similar. In place of the normal garlic, butter sauce that accompanies escargot, it was a creamy butter sauce with sauteed greens. It was very very different and something I would order again.

Then we had their signature salad that was a blue cheese cream dressing with candied walnuts. It was divine.

Here is where I am going to get you all on board, or at least the bacon lovers.

Pork three ways.

First was the ham and beans. Meh. It was OK. I don't particularly like baked beans. And they are one of those dishes that I think in order to stay true to, have a very typical flavor I don't love.

Then came the country pork rib with an ancho chili sauce. It was smoky and moist and I ate every bite of it.

THEN. The smoked pork belly. It quite literally melted in my mouth. I wanted to coat my entire body in it and die. It was decadent in the absolute best of ways.

I got to-go dessert for the boy, a dolce de leche panna cotta with homemade doughnut holes. He was equally impressed.

I am so full I am questioning if I am going to throw up all over my living room, while also having that delicious light-headedness that a great meal brings. If you have never gotten "food drunk," well, I feel sorry for you. Symptoms may also include the meat sweats.

I absolutely adore my culinary life.

Changing the Subject

2011-11-22T16:38:00.001-05:00

Thank you all for your comments and support. I love you all so very much.

Now, we are going to move past all that so I can put it back into the little tiny box in the corner of my very cluttered head where I like to keep it. K?

I should be cleaning. I am not, in fact, cleaning. I am trying desperately to come up with a blog post because then I can say, well, it's not like I was doing NOTHING. I was blogging! That's productive! I get shit done.

I totally don't get shit done.

When Krackle and I lived together, we would give ourselves deadlines. Like, at 7:00 I am going to get up and make dinner. 7:00 would turn into pizza delivery. We were terrible at actually meeting these deadlines when we had something to do. Krackle and Big Jed were over for dinner last Friday and she asked if I still did this. I hadn't thought about the fact that it all started with the two of us, but, yes, I TOTALLY still do that. So does she. We have ruined each other forever.

Right now, I have a goal of 5:00 to get up and clean for the onslaught of family coming in town tomorrow.

You guys, Thanksgiving is two days away. I have no idea how it snuck up on me, but it did. And I don't like it.

I believe that there will be close to 30 people here for the actual meal on Thursday, which I am thankfully not cooking. Because, just, no. But, this means we have a house full again, which is totally fine because nobody is bringing dogs. And my sister threw a big enough temper tantrum that she does not have to stay here. Oh, the temper tantrums. Apparently staying at my house is the equivalent of a homeless shelter. Who knew? Here I thought I had a lovely home. Biotch.

Tonight I am going out to dinner with a friend and I am so excited to not cook, I don't have words. Sipping wine and having someone else do the work is a luxury I am never willing to give up. It is my favorite thing ever.

So, did I adequately change the subject? Good.

I will be MIA until after the infamous Michigan/Ohio State game, so all of you have a wonderful holiday full of mimosa's and perfectly cooked turkey. I'll see you on the flip side. (Also, I promise never to say "see you on the flip side again.)

My Story

2011-11-21T22:32:00.000-05:00

A part of me can't really believe that I did it.

I don't talk about what happened back then because it isn't who I am now. I don't talk about it because I don't want sympathy. More importantly, I don't want pity. I am a happy person. I am a strong person. Just like every single one of us, I have my baggage, my bullshit. It is not who I am. It doesn't define me. And it is really important to me that it doesn't.

I debated sharing this here. For a long time. This story was submitted months ago, but there is a long list of people who have stories to tell. When I got the email from Maggie, I thought I was going to have a panic attack. Oh. This is happening. I am doing this.

I chose to tell my story because I have never told it before. Not in it's entirety. I have told bits and pieces and not to many people at all. I have never told anyone of any kind of authority. I did not speak up. I did not do anything to stop what was happening. To me, my mother, my stepsisters.

Maybe I give a voice to someone who felt just like me.

Maybe I make someone feel less alone.

Maybe I feel less alone.

Regardless, it happened. I am stronger because of it, and weaker as well.

I am broken and whole.

Happy and sad.

But, please don't feel sorry for me. I don't want your pity. I simply want to say, that, yes, these things happened to me. It doesn't change the person you know, the person who blogs here. It's a small part of a very complicated, very erratic person.

http://violenceunsilenced.com/erratic/

Fucking, Fuck. Brave.

2011-11-17T23:31:00.001-05:00

Someone said to me once that we all come from something...this someone may have been on Law & Order SVU. What? They are my friends. Right?

I would like to note that I am a little intoxicated. On accident! Not on accident. Ugh. I feel like I am telling my mom about the time I broke curfew to meet a boy.

I come from something. I decided to tell a very small part of the story of where I come from. But an important part...a life changing part.

My story will be told on Monday. I want to scream and cry and curl up into a little ball. Bravery sucks. Stay tuned.

http://violenceunsilenced.com/

Someone distract me from food.

2011-11-14T16:29:00.001-05:00

RESTAURANT WEEK IS OVER. Hordes of local foodies are at home experimenting in their own mother fucking kitchens instead of eating at my restaurant!

To say we were busy was an understatement. Our restaurant seats about 50. We can squeeze in 60. It's a very small restaurant. We made $30,000 in one week. That is HUGE for a restaurant of our size. HUGE. It felt like a blur.

This week one of my coworkers had a death in the family, so it is going to be another crazy week. No, I didn't forget about all of you. Or my adventures in the pork deal of the year. I haven't cooked a meal at home in two weeks. All that is floating in my mind is pancetta and lemon aioli and how to make that into a delicious sandwich for the feature tomorrow.

What are you all up to?

Oh, hey, soap box. I am going to spend some time on you today.

2011-11-09T23:38:00.002-05:00

I am sure all of you have heard about the Penn State drama. If you haven't heard about it, I recommend packing a bag and leaving your cave for a day to read up. I will wait.

I live in Columbus, OH. And, yes, I realize that I my anonymity fails. I am one post away from posting a picture of myself in front of my house holding a sign with my social security number on it. What can I say? I know most of you in real life anyway. Also, my identity sucks. I am willing to trade.

Most of the people I have encountered on Facebook are upset because of the way he is leaving, the terrible downfall of a great coach. A legend's reputation tarnished.

Dear Everyone,

HE ALLOWED A MAN TO CONTINUE RAPING CHILDREN.

Love,

Common Sense.

Oh, he told his superior, you say? Bullshit. Not good enough. Bull Fucking Shit.

Wait, you say. Wasn't MY city and MY team recently involved in a scandal? Oh, yes, we were. We traded free tattoos for sports memorabilia. And our couch was forced to resign. A coach who overlooked some kids being kids.

CHILD. RAPE.

Ugh. This world. Joe Paterno should be prosecuted as an accessory to rape. Everyone who knew should be prosecuted. There are a lot of crimes that are somewhat understandably overlooked. THIS. SHOULD. NEVER. BE. ONE. OF. THEM. Ever.

Innocent children.

So, if you are one of the people who sympathize with Paterno or think his end in college football is sad, please stop reading this blog.

I may be crass and inappropriate. I may be a terrible person with a room reserved in hell.

But, I would never, ever, ever allow someone to hurt a child. I would never stand back and do nothing. I would never do what Joe Paterno did.

I talk about vagina's too much.

2011-11-09T22:39:00.001-05:00

This week is going to kill me. 12 hour days of getting my ass handed to me, or as my kitchen crew prefers to call it, bending over and taking it in the ass with no lube. Sorry, guys. Kitchens are crass. Today's theme was seeing how many baby raping jokes they could make before I snapped and went off. The answer, in case you are wondering, is they never made me snap. I did, however, lose all faith in humanity halfway through the first joke.

I am getting off track here. I started this with a point...

The culinary field is primarily male. In fact, I am the only woman who works in our kitchen. Well, there is this one girl who works like 10 hours a week, but whatever. I don't count her because I never see her.

Our pastry chef is also a woman. And she frequently says things to me like "us women have to stick together" and "it's a man's world in the kitchen, so we have to have each others backs."

Here's the thing. No. No I don't. I have her back because I respect her. Because she works her ass off and is really, really fucking good at what she does.

I am also white. So, how fucked would it be for me to be like, hey, other white people, we have to stick together?

Answer: THAT IS COMPLETELY FUCKED.

I have been asked at every single job interview I have had if I can "handle it." Do you think men get asked this? Nope. They sure don't. "Is the language going to bother you?" FUCK NO. And never ask me that again.

You know what is not going to change it? Us women folk sticking together. It's going to change by me showing up every single day and blowing those mother fuckers out of the water. By working twice as hard, being twice as good. Eventually, they will stop being surprised when I make good food. Eventually, they will not ask if I can handle something.

Today, I was the only person in the kitchen who knew how to make polenta. One of the sous chef's mumbled under his breath how it pissed him off that I was a better cook than him. Fuck yes I am. When you are at home playing whatever new video game is out, I am reading cook books and making food.

I have his back. I have my entire team's back.

But, I am sure as fuck not going to have your back just because we both have a vagina. I will, however, ask you for a tampon if I forgot one. THAT is a reason to have vagina camaraderie.

Press 2 If you want to bash your head in with the phone.

2011-11-06T18:16:00.002-05:00

I think my finger may be infected. Well, that is not totally true. Everyone else thinks my finger may be infected and now I am getting paranoid. I think it is new skin and scar tissue, not redness and swelling. It doesn't hurt. Whatever. The moral of the story is that I was fear-mongered into going to get it checked out. Now, before you call me crazy, you should know that I have been getting staph infections since I was about 11. Anytime I get any kind of major cut, I freak out about getting a staph infection in it. So, I am normally a wee bit paranoid about flesh wounds.

I decide to go to the local urgent care. I gather my workers compensation paperwork and off I go. Now some of you may already be shaking your head at me, but in my defense, I had more faith in our medical system.

I walk in and start explaining what happened, where I got the stitches, etc. I DID NOT say anything about Worker's Comp purposefully because I went to this same place to attempt to get stitches out last time I cut myself and they refused. I planned on paying cash for this visit and sending the bill in. I also refuse to lie because, well, what's the point? She finally asked enough questions that I had to tell her it happened at work and yes, there was in fact a claim filed. She refused to give me medical care of any kind. She refused, really, to even discuss it further. She just continued to say that I needed to go back to the EMERGENCY ROOM where I was originally treated. Now. My finger is slightly red and a tiny bit swollen (I still think this is scar tissue.) There is not an open, pussing wound that screams "WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE" every time I look at it. This is not an emergency. The ER I went to was in the heart of downtown, so it is very busy all the time. With real emergencies. Violent ones. Not so much ouchies like I was walking in with. No. I would not go.

She said that I should have been recommended after care. I explained that I refused because I planned on taking out my own stitches. I never got the paperwork. I had nowhere to go other than the ER.

I told the woman, again, I would just pay cash. Pretend she didn't hear the term "workers comp." All I wanted was for someone to take two fucking seconds and say, yes, that could be an infection or nope, you are fine. If it was an infection, write me a 2 second prescription for an antibiotic and I would be on my merry little way. I didn't even care if I saw a doctor, I would trust a nurse.

Refused. To. Even. Speak. To. Me. I was livid. What if I walked in and the stitches had been ripped out and I was bleeding everywhere? That is the closest medical facility to my house. I guarantee I would have been refused treatment.

I was willing to pay the bill in full and accept full responsibility for it. I don't have health insurance, so there was no issue there. I just wanted to pay cash for a prescription or a simple "you are fine."

Refused.

Tell me that there is something wrong with this...because I was BAFFLED. Totally confused. I needed medical assistance and was refused when I had more than enough money to pay the bill. The proper thing to do is go add to the patient load of an already busy ER so someone can look at a finger that is a little pink? Not to go to an urgent care with one family in the waiting room that has plenty of time to see me and take care of the problem. AND. The worker's comp card does not say there is a restriction.

I was pissed. I still am pissed. I don't understand how medical care in this country can even claim to be slightly effective.

What next, you ask? I am doing the only thing I think is reasonable. Wait until it gets worse. I am not going to a fucking ER unless I have a fucking emergency. And I sure as hell am not going to spend 16 hours on the phone with an office that is ONLY open while I am work. I can't just take a quick break and make a phone call. That isn't really the way my job works. I get zero breaks. Zero. I eat food hovering over a trash can in between rushes. There is no time to deal with "press 1 if you think we are ridiculous."

Note: I do.

Beer and Food

2011-11-03T20:54:00.000-04:00

This week has turned into craziness. Tonight we did a beer dinner at the restaurant for 20 people. Pictured above is the root vegetable salad with charred shrimp and trapist ale vinaigrette. Note: this is not my food. I just took a picture for the sake of bragging that I helped plate it.

Tomorrow we have a lunch for 45. Tomorrow night we have a benefit for the Columbus Public Library for 500 and I get to go and prep and serve the food.

Today was a 12 hour day.

Tomorrow will easily be 15 hours.

You know what the difference is? I LOVE IT. LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT.

AND! AND! I got my very own mead pairing dinner in January. Fuckity Fuck!

They made me march out in front of all 20 people as they applauded. It was humiliating. And kind of awesome.

Sorry to be all Braggity McBraggerson, but today was a long, good day. And I wanted to share with all of you.

Also, NCH is high as balls right now on cat nip.

Also, also I got to drink the beer. It was delicious.

More on the dumb

2011-11-01T12:00:00.000-04:00

I decided to take one of those left brain/right brain tests. I am sure I have taken something similar over the years, but shockingly, cannot remember the results.

I think that this is pretty funny, so I decided to share. The results came back that I was 69% (heh. 69) right brained and 31% left brained.

Left Brain Percentages

50% Symbolic

27% Sequential

16% Linear

14% Verbal

7 % Reality Based

5% Logical

Right Brain Percentages

67% Random

57% Fantasy Oriented

34% Intuitive

25% Nonverbal

19% Concrete

12% Holistic

I am not going to copy and paste what these numbers mean because it is pretty repetitive...but essentially, what they all mean is that I am fantasy oriented and don't necessarily follow rules. I don't read directions. I tend to see the whole picture and do not do well when having to follow instructions step by step. I am better at starting with the whole and working backwards. I am good at expressing myself with words, but often over explain myself because I don't think I am saying it right or can't find the right words. When giving directions, I am more apt to tell someone to turn right at the home depot than to say "go 7 miles, then turn right." I do well when I am emotionally tied to something, but tend to not do well if I do not have an emotional investment in something. I rely more on my "gut" feeling than facts and tend to do things intuitively.

What do you guys think, does this sound like me?

The Dumb

2011-10-30T16:01:00.001-04:00

I think I am slowly becoming stupid. I am not sure if I have finally killed all my brain cells or what is happening. I just know that the ole brain isn't what it used to be.

There is a family history of this. My grandmother is very much the way I am becoming. She is a brilliant artist and a very intelligent woman. But she is 112% right brained. She is always lost in her own head, never finishes her sentences, and has a tendency to create the world around her rather than just living in it as is.

I am also very much like this. I noticed the sentence thing a few years ago. I will say things like "I really like balloons because" and then just never say why. I am onto another subject, in another world, something shiny has been spotted and my attention span is gone. Kaput. No more. Also, I hate balloons, so that was a terrible example.

People often say that reading my blog is like having a conversation with me. Except I get to proof read it and make sure it makes sense. So, those of you who don't know me in real life, imagine talking to me without editing capabilities. It can be odd. I am odd.

I had a boyfriend when I was 17/18 that liked playing dungeon and dragons. I didn't really care for the game, but the story telling. Oh, the story telling. I would always be the story teller (I am sure there is an official name, I just don't know it) when we played and create these worlds, villages, adventures. It was my heaven. That relationship was filled with stupidity and immaturity, but I always look back fondly on staying up all night creating stories. My favorite character was a blacksmith named Sparky and he was hiding information for the King. Our characters desperately needed this information in order to set my sister free. Sparky would accidentally light his beard on fire whenever he got nervous and we were always helping him put it out.

Weird, I know.

So, my head is always filled with this. Stories and fantasies and food and books. And it used to be filled with practical things too. Slowly but surely, those things are fading away. For example, I could not, for the life of me, remember if front wheel drive or rear wheel drive was better in snow. I live in Ohio. We get snow. I knew this once. Have bought cars based on these facts. I could not remember. I had to google it when I got home.

I have to write everything down. Often, I lose what I wrote those things down on.

I can never find my keys. Or my sunglasses. Or my hair tie. Or a list of 100 other things.

But, ask me what I put in the soup I made last week and I can tell you every ingredient town to the teaspoon. Ask me what the beef tenderloin at Barcelona tastes like and I can describe it in detail.

My grandmother's quirks drove me crazy as a kid. They still drive me crazy now. But, I see myself becoming more and more like her. I wish I could maintain that left brain thinking. I wish I had a good memory. But, once again, I find myself wishing that I have characteristics I simply do not. Setting myself up for failure.

So, you heard it here first...I think I have the dumb.

Pork Stir-Fry

2011-10-25T18:51:00.004-04:00

This is a less complicated dish than last time with quite a delicious sauce, if I do say so myself. I like doing stir fry when I have tons of fresh veggies in the house that are going to go bad soon, in this case there were only three, though.

If you have never had greens mixed into stir-fry you are missing out. The spicy/sweet sauce with bitter greens is sort of magnificent.

Pork Stir Fry

Sauce:

1 c. unsalted stock

1/4 c. cornstarch

1 T thai chili paste (double for extra spicy)

1 T hoison

1 c soy sauce

Stir Fry:

1 lb cubed pork loin (or whatever meat you have on hand)

1 c sliced red pepper

1 c sliced onion

1 c kale

1 t minced garlic

3 T corn starch

TT salt and pepper

1/4 c vegetable oil

Serve with rice.

To make the sauce, combine the cornstarch and stock. Whisk together until cornstarch is completely dissolved. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Taste sauce. Add salt if necessary. Most Asian ingredients are pretty salty, so I rarely add any additional.

Heat pan on stove on high. Add vegetable oil when hot. This is important...the pan needs to be screaming hot, to the point where the oil is popping a little.

Dust pork with corn starch, salt, and pepper. Place in pan and sear on all sides, about 3 min. Add vegetables, cook for 1 minute. Add sauce. Let meat and vegetables cook in sauce until sauce is reduced, about 1 minute.

Pre-sauce

Saucy

Serve over rice.

Brilliant

2011-10-24T23:01:00.001-04:00

If you are friends with me on Facebook, I posted this there too. But, holy shit this looks amazing. Molecular gastronomy is not my thing...elevated comfort food is more my thing. But, I would love to spend a day in the mind of this man. I would love to learn how to do this shit. I would love to be brilliant enough to even THINK of doing this shit.

Digging deep for blog-worthy material, here.

2011-10-24T20:30:00.000-04:00

I hung out with the new addition to the Krackle family, baby boy Krackle. I wanted to steal him. The cuteness was overwhelming.
They fired the chef at work. Apparently (and I will believe it when I see it) his money is being divided among the rest of the staff for all our hard work. Fingers crossed.
My cat is still trying to kill me.
For some reason, all I want to do is sleep. Like, right now, I want to be in bed. Sleeping. Weird, right? I am blaming the weather.
I need to start working out again. Or get a second job so I don't sit around on my ass so much. Or both. Can someone please motivate me? Pretty please? I am so bad at self motivation.
I am addicted to Family Feud on my iPhone. I only get 5 coins a day. It may be the end of me.
I have to cater a dinner for 15 - 20 people on a $50 budget. It is for a charity, which is why I am willing to do such a small budget. Anyone have any genius ideas? I have NO idea what to do that would be both good (I am not throwing hot dogs in a crock pot) and come close to the $50. I don't mind paying a little extra.
I have come to the conclusion that I am not getting feeling back in part of my finger. Also, nerve endings growing back is sort of terrible because it makes your finger feel not attached, but yet you can still feel it...sort of like it is just going to fall off. That is the best way I can explain it. Once again, I highly recommend NOT trying to cut off your finger.
Have you ever seen the Subaru commercial where they are at a high school reunion and the couple flashes back to a road trip in their Subaru? Because I LOVE that commercial. And it makes me feel like a giant dork. And I want to know if other people also love that commercial. It just makes me happy.
I don't really have a number 10. Let's be honest, number 9 was a stretch. I just miss you guys and wanted to say hey. I could have done with 5 random things today, me thinks.

The sound of frustration

2011-10-20T23:21:00.000-04:00

I am watching a 30 year friendship unravel. I can't tell the story here, it is not my story to tell. My heart is breaking for both of them. I am angry with both of them. I only understand one side because only one of them is speaking to me. To us. To all of us.

I want to scream at her, to tell her to just talk to us. I want to tell her to stop alienating everyone. I want to tell her to stop playing games on fucking Facebook and talk to a human being.

But, I can't.

30 years of memories.

And it is all unraveling. I want to spill all the words of this story so you can all tell me what to do. I want to say everything I was sworn to secrecy about. I want to fix this.

It is not mine to fix.

I am helpless and frustrated.

And my mother fucking finger hurts.

Things I don't miss about working in an office

2011-10-19T20:21:00.001-04:00

Theme Days....Hawaiin shirt day, funny hat day, wear your pajamas to work day, accidentally stab your boss in the face day.
Pooling money to get so and so a gift, even though you do not like them or think they deserve getting a gift in the first place.
Potlucks. I prefer to see the kitchen my food is cooked in. Or at least know that the health department is regulating it. Also, no, your buffalo chicken dip is not OUT OF THIS WORLD. It tastes like Frank's Red Hot and canned chicken.
Sitting at a desk all day. Ugh. Never again.
Huddles, Pow Wow's, or any other inane short team meeting thrown together by your boss to motivate you to really get shit done that week.
Conference calls. Holy. Shit. Conference Calls. Really, just being on the phone in general.
The constant restructuring and moving and restructuring and moving...you know, fancy for we want to pay our CEO a ton of money and figure out a way for you to work for virtually free.
Working for the man. Ooh. I hate the man.
Email Forwards. I get virtually no email forwards. Nobody is asking me to fill out surveys. Nobody is forwarding me that stupid woman, Maxine, and her snarky comments. I AM FORWARD FREEEEEEEE.
Office Politics. Enough Said.

This was all inspired by a former coworker posting a picture of "crazy shirt day" at my old work. I almost stabbed myself repeatedly in the throat at the thought of ever having to do something like that again. Some days (mostly the ones when I pay bills) I question my decision...most days...not even a little.

Stitches are out!

2011-10-18T19:35:00.001-04:00

Despite the grossness of this picture, it really looks much better. MUCH BETTER. The stitches were through the nail and as it was starting to grow, well, I will leave the rest up to your imagination. So, I took them out myself two days early. Meh. Who needs medical care?

Also, sorry if you get this twice in your feed. I tried to do it from my phone and failed. Another reason I miss my Android Phone...Google was much more supportive.

Pork Scallopini

2011-10-17T19:45:00.000-04:00

Yesterday at the grocery store I bought a pork loin RIDICULOUSLY CHEAP. $1.99/ lb cheap. And cut it into a gazillion and four pork chops. OK, more like 20. So, I want to try my hand at this food blogging thing. If you guys hate it, tell me. If you love it, tell me. I don't really know how I feel about it, but, you know, I'll tell you. I have always wanted a separate section of my blog that you could click on for food blogging stuff. But, you know, motivation. So, I am going to blog every recipe I make with this pork loin.

Pork Scallopini with braised collard greens and roasted fingerling potatoes

serves 2

2 Boneless Pork Chops

1/4 cup flour

1 tsp salt

1 head collard greens

5 strips thick cut bacon

2 cup stock

1 T apple cider vinegar

1 tsp red pepper flakes (omit if you don't like spicy)

1 tsp salt

1 T brown sugar

15 fingerling potatoes

1 tsp salt

1 tsp pepper

3 T olive oil

**I use pre-made finishing salts when I do this. Way more flavor. But, salt and pepper will do. I recommend Williams Sonoma if you are looking for good ones.

Put the potatoes in first. Toss them with salt and pepper and cook them about 45 minutes in a 350 degree oven.

Next start braising the collard greens. Cut the bacon into thin strips about 1/4 inch by 1 inch. Cook the bacon until it is crispy and remove from the pan. Add the collard greens to the bacon grease.

The collard greens will overflow the pan. I recommend using cast iron if you have it. But, I always recommend using cast iron.

Add 1 cup of the stock, apple cider vinegar, pepper flakes, and salt. Cook covered on medium heat until greens are wilted.

This is what they will look like when they are done.

While greens are cooking, pound out the pork and get the flour ready.

Before

After

Once greens are wilted, heat up on medium high olive oil, butter, canola oil...whatever fat you prefer to cook in. Dust pork with flour and add to hot pan. Add bacon and sugar to greens and take the potatoes out of the oven. They should be brown on the bottom.

Sear pork on each side until just brown. It will overcook fast...this should only take about 3 minutes total.

Remove pork from pan and add other cup of stock and a pinch of salt. Crank the stove. Scrape bottom of the pan with tongs or a spatula.

To plate, put the potatoes in a pile in the middle, leaning the pork up against the potatoes. Place greens on top of that.

Plating and stuff.

Grab the pan sauce and spoon it over the top of everything until a pool forms on the bottom of the plate.

TA DA

Total time: about 45 minutes. I also wrote this entire blog post (minus the addition of the pictures) in that 45 minutes, so there is a lot of down time.

Because I had most of this stuff on hand...this cost under $5 for both of us. But, most people may not ALWAYS have bacon in the house!

Who's the boss? Vagina.

2011-10-16T22:53:00.001-04:00

Ever since my Toast to Rockstar, I have noticed some new faces around here. Well, more hits on my blog anyway. While I somewhat track that shit, I rarely take the time to see if it is just a few of you getting bored and going through archives or actual new followers. But, I checked. New people! Hi new people. Welcome. I am obnoxious. You have been warned.

Josey, your awesomeness is just oozing it's way over here.

Just a few random updates. I pre-scheduled the wordless week, so that is just sort of mixing in with my regular old blog posts because, well, I can't feel my finger. Makes typing really easy. Kill the nerve endings and it doesn't hurt to type anymore. Yay? Probably not. I also can't bend it anymore, making me think I may have damaged a tendon. Yay? None of this is good news. I have a giant life lesson for all of you - don't do anything I do ever. EVER. It will only end poorly and with mutilated body parts. You should see the burn scars on my arms. Dear. Lord.

I met another accident prone chef the other day and we were exchanging horror stories. In his 10 year career he has done way more damage than me. Which, you know, hope for the future! Less appendages! More scars! I can't wait. Art is worth it, right? I think so.

There was some marathon today. I didn't run in it. Or walk in it. Or even pretend that I would ever do either of these things. Instead I made stock, homemade granola, hung out with Tini, and drank some wine. This is how I exercise. I should write a diet book.

Tini wore a shirt I made him, which is an all around hilarious story. We were on the phone one day and he was telling me about this woman at the deli he frequents and how she tells him grossly inappropriate things about her. One time the conversation led to her vagina. I don't remember the exact statement she made, but I said, "I mean, what does she think, hey, this guy is gay, I should tell him about my vagina."

To which Tini responded, "THAT HAS TO BE A T-SHIRT."

Naturally, I made it into one. The shirt is powder blue with a rainbow that covers his chest. Underneath the rainbow, it says "I'm gay. Tell me about your vagina." Tini has worn this shirt around me several times and I have never noticed until today. That shirt is awesome. So, I drug him with me to the grocery store wearing this shirt and most people paid no notice. Except one woman who started laughing hysterically and said "I love your shirt." Tini then declared the woman his new best friend. Of course he did. Oh, to bring joy to random strangers with our inappropriate sense of humor. It's kind of our thing.

I am feeling restless without a second job, only working about 40 hours a week. It feels weird. I don't like the free time. I want to be working. So, tomorrow I am going to amp up the job hunt. There is a local smokehouse/brewery that is hiring. I would kill to work there. Seriously. I absolutely love their food, love their beer. I don't see how this could not work out perfectly for me. Let's hope I can pick up about 20 hours a week there. And not damage any more appendages in the process.

The boy got the new iPhone on Friday because, you know, fanboy. There is a program on the new OS called Siri that is sort of like a voice activated google. You can ask it anything, like where to dispose of a dead body, and it gives you an answer. He was trying to get Siri used to certain commands...telling it I was his girlfriend, who his mom was, etc. He asked the phone who his boss was, expecting to have to input data into the phone to tell it. Nope. It came right up with all my contact information.

It's official...the machines are taking over.

Wordless Week Day 5

2011-10-16T12:00:00.000-04:00

I still want to live here. Every single day. I don't care how crazy that makes me.

Wordless Week Day 4

2011-10-15T12:00:00.000-04:00

Mmmm...Beer.

This one has words, yo.

2011-10-14T23:26:00.000-04:00

This isn't wordless. It is typed with a very band aided finger. Yay for padding!

Today was a weird ass day. Part of my new schedule is to work a double on Friday. Or part of my new schedule sometimes...my new schedule is less of a schedule and more of a general bitch. With our chef out until next week, he asked one of his friends to step in. This guy has been executive chef at some very nice restaurants here in town. And we are all sitting around and talking, when it hits me. I am by far the least experienced person here. BY. FAR. Yes, I started later in life, but still. These people are so comfortable in a kitchen it almost makes me uncomfortable. I have two thoughts.

PICK EVERYONE'S BRAIN RIGHT NOW FOREVER.

Slink into the corner and feel ashamed of your lack of experience.

I do neither of these. Rather, I do the only thing I know how in this situation. I make several inappropriate comments, laced with expletives, get them laughing and realize that they are people just like me. Everyone has to start somewhere. I am pretty fucking lucky to be working with some of the people I do. With absolutely no experience and a culinary degree.

Sometimes you get to be the best. Sometimes you get to be the worst. I feel like being the worst right now is the best thing I could ever do for my culinary career.

And, just for good measure, after I got cut early because we were dead, I texted them all a photo of the beer I was drinking. You know, to rub it in. Suckers.

Wordless Week Day 3

2011-10-14T12:00:00.000-04:00

KITTENS!

Wordless Week Day 2

2011-10-13T13:00:00.000-04:00

I did this once. I miss culinary school.

Wordless Week Day 1

2011-10-12T13:00:00.000-04:00

I miss him. So much.

Get your very short news updates here!

2011-10-11T20:27:00.001-04:00

I am full of news! Except I can't type! So it is going to be a very short blog post. We will begin with why I can't type. I got my finger caught in a meat slicer at work. Let's just say it is a good thing it was too dull to cut through bone. Or I would be missing the entire top joint of my right pointer finger. I will not be posting pictures of this one because, guys, gross. It is really really gross. There will be a very deformed, scarred finger in my future. 7 stitches. On my finger!

In happier news, Krackle gave birth to Krackle Jr II today. He looks exactly like his big sister did at his age. Also, he is huge! 8 lbs 6 oz! I got to go and hold him today, and despite the incessant pooping, I am head over heels in love. LOVE. I am so happy for the Krackle family! A friend of mine from high school gave birth to twins about 15 minutes after Krackle, so I woke to Facebook plastered with newborn pics. It was kind of awesome.

That just took like 20 minutes to type. Ugh. Maybe it will be wordless, let my finger heal, week.

UPDATE: I totally forgot the biggest news of all! A restaurant critic came in today and had the soup and said it was the best he has ever had at our restaurant. AND I MADE IT. Sorry to be a giant dork, but it was huge. I almost jumped up and down.

Blah

2011-10-08T00:49:00.000-04:00

I worked a 14 hour day with no breaks. I took 5 minutes to "smoke" so I could sit down outside and get some fresh air. Oh, and I peed twice. Holy long day, batman.
People from old, old job are contacting me on Facebook and texting me trying to make me feel guilty. Not going to work. Not going to happen. Nuh uh.
I drank a beer in the shower tonight. It was perfection.
New, now Old, Job just offered me a full time position. What, what? That means I don't need to find a full time job, but rather a part time job just a few days a week.
I have 105 unread blogs. AFTER I deleted all the shit that I just sort of peruse. This is the good stuff, the stuff I read several times and can't wait to read. That is probably the most I have ever had. We won't talk about my 3960 unread emails. Time to clean that shit out.
The Big Bang Theory is back on. Life feels complete again.
Bradshaw blew my shit up tonight. Blew. It. Up. I send her twitter account to my phone...38 text messages when I got out of work. I wish I had the dedication to tweet that much. I don't.
I may or may not have cut off part of my finger again. Mostly, I did. No hospital visit required, though.
The guys at work STILL don't get that I am not a typical girl. They asked me today if it was cool to tap me on the hip to signal they needed to get into the cooler in front of me. I was like, um, really? You are not tapping me on my vag. You are not grabbing my boob. I think we're good. Sometimes there just isn't time to say it. I get it.
The chef at work rolled his car last night driving home from work. The police said "at least twice" although he doesn't remember anything. He is in the hospital, but doing well. Today was a little crazy trying to run around and make up for being a person short AND trying to make sure he was OK. Thankfully he was cleared by Neuro and they think everything is superficial. Whew!

It was a weird day. One that I am happy to say is over. The weekend is here.

New, New New, and Old no more.

2011-10-06T16:58:00.002-04:00

Today I quit old job. Or got fired. I can't be sure which one. Let me explain. I work a position called linebacker which is the bane of all existence everywhere. It is stressful and demanding and nobody wants to do it. It is almost all I have done since I started there. All I wanted was to be on the line. There have been conversations about this with managers that got nowhere. This has led me to have a less than stellar attitude towards things, which has led to me being pulled aside multiple times about said attitude. An attitude, mind you, that would be acceptable in ANY OTHER KITCHEN ON EARTH. I get yelled at for swearing. Anywho, I attempted to talk to them last night about scheduling me to close 5 nights a week doing nothing but linebacking AGAIN and got into yet another little tiff about it. I called in today and one thing led to another, there may have been some raised voices, but I was hung up on after telling them I was not coming back. It was not the mature way to handle things. I lost my temper. I was fed up. I hated it there. BUT GOD IT FELT GOOD.

I guess this is both the positive and the negative of this industry; you don't stay in one job long and it is easy to walk away. You won't find many linecooks that stay in a place more than a year and I lasted 15 months. Barely. I was unhappy and the responsible thing would have been to replace the income first. I realize this. But, that is another great thing about this industry...the jobs are a dime a dozen because most people just walk out one day and never come back.

So, off to find a new, new job. Hopefully one I like as much as new job. This is getting confusing.

Air Boat Ride

2011-10-03T14:01:00.000-04:00

One of the days we spent at the pool, we also went on an airboat ride, which was a pretty cool experience. We forgot the camera, hence the delay in the pictures because they were on our phones. This was about an hour from our hotel, so it was in the middle of nowhere and beautiful!

View of the Wetlands. Ignore that crazy bitches hair (note: she is me)

Bird. I don't have much else here. Just bird.

Another bird, but this dude was really, really rare. You can be fined if you scare him while he is eating. He only eats snails.

Air boats!

Baby gators.

Dude holding a baby gator. I also held him later, but you know, anonymous and all. I did not include that picture. Apparently, I don't care if this guy remains anonymous.

Weird tree. I liked it.

Random Food Pictures

2011-10-02T13:48:00.000-04:00

Every time we sat down to eat a meal, we were halfway done before we remembered to take pictures of it! I was pissed because, well, I want to remember the food too! We mostly ate at the condo, grilling out. Here are some cilantro-lime chicken things with herb marinated grilled potatoes. An awesome way to cook potatoes, by the way. They get crispy like potato chips with that charred, grilled flavor.

We also stumbled upon this amazing little restaurant called Tijuana Flats that was cafe style food, but delicious. They had a hot sauce bar with like 30 different hot sauces you could try, most of which they made in house. Awesome place. It is a chain that I hope makes it's way to Ohio.

Yes, I had already started eating when I remembered to take the picture. The next three are from my birthday dinner at Emeril's. We actually had our camera with us for this one, but the lighting was shitty and it was hard to get photos that weren't washed out. So, I apologize for the quality, but the food had to be remembered. It was some good stuff.

Roasted asparagus salad with seared tuna. The white spot is frisee. It was absolutely amazing. The perfect combination of warm and cold and bitter and sweet. I would have married this salad and tiny little tuna-asparagus babies with it.

Andouille crusted red fish with shoe string potatoes and roasted patty pan squash. You guys. This, just, no. It was so freaking good. The sauce was smoky and the fish was delicate.

This was the boy's dish, a BOA flatbread. Bacon, onion, and arugula. The bacon was smoked boar bacon and it was phenomenal. Out of this world, best bacon I have ever had, would also have little tiny boar shaped bacon with it. I need to stop procreating with food...

A Toast to Rockstar

2011-09-29T02:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Rockstar,

I am your aunt Erratic. Can I call myself that? Yes? Awesome. I have never met your mom in person because we became friends in the strangest of ways, through our blogs. My blog is about inappropriate things and I say the word fuck a lot. You shouldn't say that word. Or read my blog. Your mom's blog is about you. The long journey to find you, the ups and downs and struggle it was for you to be The Rockstar. There was a lot of sad, a lot of happy, and a fair amount of beer along the way. And now you are almost here and nobody deserves you more than your mom and dad. They say good things come to those who wait. I don't know who "they" is and your parents certainly didn't deserve to have to wait one second, but they did. And you are good. And they are so happy to have you and I am so happy for them.

I remember reading the blog post when your mom announced that she was finally pregnant with you. There were tears streaming down my face. Tears for a woman that I have never met, but who has become such a part of my life. Your mom is awesome and I am so excited to see what is next for your little family. And I can't wait to finally get the chance to see your little face. And hopefully meet all of you one day.

So, here is to Rockstar. The long awaited gift to a very deserving family.

In honor of you, I have purchased this:

Because, well, if it wasn't about food, it just wouldn't be from me.

Love,

Your Aunt Erratic who didn't know what else to call herself for the purpose of this post so just went with that and can totally just go by that crazy bitch who blogs about food and her pets.

Today's Theme: Disappointment

2011-09-28T18:40:00.002-04:00

Today we went to Universal Studios, not to be confused with Universal Island of Adventures where I lost my shit and almost hid in the shops in Hogsmeade and stayed there forever. Where Island of Adventures was a five star restaurant, Universal Studios was a cold cheeseburger from Applebees. That was overcooked. And used to wipe someone's ass.

I may be exaggerating a bit here, but it was just a huge let down. The first thing we did was Shrek 4D, which was a 3D movie and the chairs moved. Neat, you think. No. They just shook back and forth and it kind of hurt. Shrek was funny because, well, Shrek is funny. But, that was about it. Oh, and when Dragon sneezed, the seat in front of you sprayed you with water. Good times.

Then we did the Twister thing which was supposed to put you in the heart of a town being ripped apart by a Tornado. It was like standing in front of a fan and watching a tornado. Not good. Not good at all.

Then there was Jaws, which is like their signature dish. Except it sucked. It was a water ride and I literally had like two drops of water on my sunglasses. And the acting. OMG THE ACTING. It was awful. The boy and I looked at each other and were like, really? REALLY?

The Simpson's ride was pretty cool. Similar to what they did with Harry Potter and if it hadn't made us fall from the sky, I would have actually opened my eyes. Because holy balls I almost shit myself when it first started. Hence why I am not telling you about my rollercoaster experiences. Because I will shit myself.

The park was older and not as well kept up. Even the children's areas, which were my favorite shit in Island of Adventures, were mediocre.

If you are going to spend the money, just go to Island of Adventures. Skip Universal. It is overrated and boring. Seriously.

I also got some pictures of City Walk, which is awesome. It is all the bars and restaurants and doesn't require park tickets to get in. If we hadn't spent every dime we have (over $300) on park tickets, we would have spent way more time there.

Filler Post

2011-09-27T20:30:00.000-04:00

I decided to try to blog while I was on vacation because, well, I wanted to share the awesomeness with all of you. Also, as a memory to me. Today we went on an airboat ride, saw a 12 foot alligator, and I held a 2 foot alligator. Who was soft. We went to the pool, grilled dinner, and now I am watching Glee and drinking Jack and Cranberry Ginger Ale. Delicious.

See? Not a whole blog post. We need downtime too.

So...right before we left, Neil figured out how to climb between the screen door and the screen guard and pop out the screen. And got stuck. It was hilarious. Here's pictures. Enjoy.

10 Things You Should Know About Orlando

2011-09-27T16:03:00.000-04:00

The state motto is actually "Turn right, then make a u-turn"
The shower is set to scalding or cold. You might think, hey, this is probably just unique to you. It's not.
There are bugs everywhere. And some of them look like two bugs, but they're not. Maybe. I can't bring myself to google it.
The oranges are as delicious as you would think they are.
All of the stoplights last approximately eternity.
Nobody actually lives here, it is just tourists.
There are gecko's everywhere. And they are fearless and dart out in front of you and scare the shit out of you, even though you love Lizards.
You can accidentally not pay the toll. Then your rental company will charge you a bazillion dollars for not paying the toll. They will also give you dirty, judgy looks. Probably.
The Supermarket is not, in fact, Super. Unless you are buying crack. Or forties.
No matter what the weather forecast says, it will be sunny and hot. Rain in the forecast? Won't happen. Unless there is a hurricane. I hear those bring rain.

Skip this one if you are not a Harry Potter fan.

2011-09-26T15:54:00.002-04:00

Driving up to the park, I had butterflies in my stomach. It felt like a first date. With an amusement park. I was giddy with excitement. When I saw the back of the Hogwarts Castle from the road, I almost crashed into the median.

Walking up, it was all anticipation. I just wanted to BE. THERE. I didn't want to see all of the other shit. Then I walked into the park.

I felt like a little girl. I can't explain it. My body tingled from head to toe. It is not just a bunch of rides, like other amusement parks I have been to. It transports you to another world. Dr. Seuss was probably my favorite. Don't tell Harry Potter. It was just so amazing. I admit it, I skipped a little. And there may have been a twirl or two.

Then came Harry Potter. And I am going to apologize a little bit here, because I am about to GUSH. School girl with the biggest crush in the history of ever and he held her hand and said he like, liked her GUSH.

Hogsmeade was everything I expected. It was just like an alley filled with shops and restaurants and bars. A waitress told me to expect it to be small, which in turn led me to being blown away by how big it was.

Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey was single handedly the coolest experience of my life. Even the boy, who is NOT a Harry Potter fan thought it was pretty bad ass. Essentially, you fly behind Harry on a broom through the castle and the grounds. I had a STUPID grin on my face the entire time. This is not something I do...I do not grin stupidly. I know it sounds completely ridiculous, but it may be the single happiest moment of my life. Yes, I realize what this means. Let me have my moment.

There was Toon Land.

And some super heroes.

And some bad ass rides.

All in all, a damn good 30th birthday. I got exactly what I planned on, exactly what I wanted...to feel like a kid again.

They are everywhere!

2011-09-25T16:43:00.001-04:00

We arrived

2011-09-24T21:24:00.001-04:00

Our condo. I have arrived in heaven.

"I need to take a picture of the condo for the blog. I have to poop will you take the picture?"

"of you pooping?"

"yes, I want a picture of me pooping for the blog."

"oh, of the condo...."

Day one of vacation

2011-09-23T20:34:00.001-04:00

'twas the night before Orlando
All through the house
Every creature was stirring
Except for a mouse
Neil was sniffing the bags
Looking for a place to hide
While short dog lay panting
And dreaming of rawhide
The boy was all packed
While erratic drank wine
Saying I'll pack tomorrow
Everything will be just fine.

Insecurity Sucks

2011-09-20T21:47:00.002-04:00

I am good at learning things, especially if they are repetitive. This makes me really good on a line. I get into habits and I repeat the same thing over and over and eventually I am consistent and fast. I do not think this is a unique quality. I think that most people, well, a lot of people can do this. I do not think this makes me special.

The sous chef at new job wants me to be more involved in creating the menu. This means soups, new menu items, daily features, and so on. The menu is a bistro style menu and it is constantly changing depending on what is in season.

Creating food isn't repetition. It is talent. It is being able to take 5 ingredients and turn them into something remarkable. It is not following a recipe. It is cooking from your heart, tasting, changing, until it is perfect. I do this at home all the time, sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I fail. I don't get to fail in a professional kitchen, not without it really hitting me hard.

I'm a little scared. I am a little excited. This is the next step. This is the beginning.

King Earl of the Moles

2011-09-16T20:40:00.003-04:00

There are two things you need to know.

Iceburg Jones and I constantly take on the persona of Earl and Brandine, a couple who drives around town on rascals. We speak in country accents and new people at work often think those are actually our names.
I often call Iceburg Jones moley because when he first wakes up he is all squinty eyed and confused. He often comes to work in this state.

I got this text from Iceburg Jones last night when I got to work. I couldn't stop laughing.

Ohhhh fuck I am lost in a park right now. I'm moleying around the trails and I don't remember how to get back from where I came. Oh god. Where am I, Brandine? Come rascal me outta here my legs are tahrd! I think I'm going to just burrow a little mole hole and wait for help to arrive...and if help never comes, well, this is will be my life. I'll run with my mole brethren in tunnels underground, and they will crown me their king. King Earl of the Blendon Woods Mole Colony. Cower at our moley stance of confusion! Tremble at the sight of our squinty little eyes and our inability to find things in a kitchen. Perished will be all those foolish enough to cross us, for our claws are strong and our little gnawing teeth are kind of sharp. Probably. I, King Earl of the Moles, shall lead my brethren bravely with eyes half open to the underground world of victory! ......Seriously Erratic where the fuck am I? I am literally standing in a box of butterflies now...I have no better way of describing this. All I know is I did not walk through a box of butterflies on the way here...kind of neat though.

I always check my phone when I am peeing, so I was sitting on the toilet with a line outside the door laughing so hard I was choking. Tears running down my face, I walked out of the bathroom stall to a small group of people staring at me in complete awe and bewilderment. Which, of course, just made me laugh harder.

Agent's Office

2011-09-12T22:36:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I wonder how actors get certain roles. I just saw a preview for Taylor Lautner's new movie, Abduction. And I pictured the scenario like this...

Agent: So, I have a list of scripts sitting here, what sounds good?

Lautner: This is all chick flick shit. Not again. I cannot be another werewolf with abs.

Agent: But in this one you get to be the understanding straight friend who is there for the girl he loves and then gets her in the end.

Lautner: Seriously? Isn't that the EXACT same role I just played. In Twilight, the douchiest chick flick of all time?

Agent: Well, here is one where you get to play the ass hole love interest who doesn't get the girl, but breaks the girls heart.

Lautner: I want to kick some ass! Be in a man's movie! I want to work with like Jackie Chan or some shit!

Agent: Well, there is this one script...

Lautner: I'll do it!

...a year later...

Lautner: WHY DID YOU LET ME DO THIS? This movie is terrible. TERRIBLE. I look like a total fucking ass hat.

Agent: Well, you wanted to be all macho and shit.

Lautner: Nobody is going to see this movie except for prepubescence girls who are swooning over me and actually hate the entire movie.

Agent: I tried to warn you, dude.

Lautner: Isn't there a new Twilight movie coming out soon? I need to get my reputation back.

Agent: And your abs....

It's good to be home.

2011-09-11T23:34:00.001-04:00

The wedding was beautiful.

I am exhausted.

My sister managed to make me feel like complete shit for being the last cousin to get married, which is not that crazy because there are only four of us. I come from a small family. Clearly.

I watched my cousins twins all weekend because she was in the wedding. It seemed like there were easily 14 babies. I am not even kidding. Trying to keep them fed, sleeping, changed, and entertained a midst everything else was like trying to wrangle four hundred cats. Really, really cute cats. I don't know how they do it. Every inch of my body is sore, partially because they are at the age where they flail and generally just beat the shit out of me all weekend. But, I also kind of want to drive to see them every weekend because, dear lord, these babies have my heart.

There were a lot of hours in the car, a lot of shitty nights of sleep due to terrible beds, a ton of alcohol, more food than I care to admit, and a lot of love and family.

All in all a good weekend. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to go sleep for a week. Or, you know, work.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

2011-09-07T22:03:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I am an idiot. No, that is an understatement. Sometimes I am a downright, full fledged fucking stupid ass hole. This week, today, all fall into that category.

My cousin is getting married this weekend, which in and of itself does not make me stupid. But, my new schedule is still at the "I am going to fucking die from exhaustion" point. I have not quite gotten used to the hours, to say the least. Once everything gets back to normal, I will be working Monday through Friday 9 am to 3 pm at New Job and Sunday through Thursday 4 pm to close at Old Job. These past two weeks have been a mixture of fading out the old, already posted schedule and working into this new schedule. There has been a lot of running around and I do not honestly remember the last day I had off. Other than the labor day work picnic, which I don't count. I was supposed to work 11 days straight, which turned into 15. I am a little spent.

So, back to me being a giant fucktard. I leave for Indianapolis tomorrow immediately following my shift at New Job. Like, my father will be waiting at my house tapping his foot, checking his watch, and possibly honking the horn. I am not kidding. He is not so happy that we are leaving at 3 pm. If he could time my shower and change of clothes with a stop watch screaming "get it together, solider, we leave at 1500 hours, not a minute later" he would. The man has never been in the military. He is just a wee bit anal. So...this means that tonight, when I got home from work, I had to pack and get completely ready so that I can jump in/out of the shower and run, full speed ahead to the car tomorrow after work.

This was not a good plan. The days are taking their toll. I am getting crabby. And tired. And crabby.

THEN my shoes didn't come in the mail. The shoes that were supposed to be here yesterday. The shoes that went with the dress and the necklace and the earrings and THE WHOLE OUTFIT. I don't do this except for weddings, people. I have no shoes.

THEN the earring/necklace combo didn't match. They were the same brand and sold as a matching pair and did not match. And they came in the mail today. No time to fix it. Thank Jesus I have alternate earrings I can roll with in a pinch.

So. Let's summarize. I have no time, no shoes, no patience, and my eyebrows look like two caterpillars having some sort of bug war on my forehead. I NEED TO PLUCK. And my toenails are hideous. Fuck, I forgot about the toenails.

I am having a nervous breakdown people. Sound the alarms. I'll get the beer.

Reality always trumps dreams.

2011-09-06T23:46:00.001-04:00

Often youthful ignorance gets in the way of reality. I frequently talk about the food system in this country and what I believe to be wrong with it. I love the idea of eating from the community that I live in, eating animals and vegetables I can literally reach out and touch.

This simply doesn't happen. I am learning a lot about our food system at new job. Being a kitchen team of 6, I am a lot more in touch with where our food comes from. Friday, I shelled soy beans grown just 4 miles from Big Jed's house. I joked that she probably knew the farmer or, at the very least, knew of his farm. I spend a lot of time slicing tomatoes grown on the owner's farm. I made guacamole today using jalapeno's grown in our city. This is easy during the summer. Corn, peppers, tomatoes, soy beans, and squash are abundant in Ohio from June to August. Then fall hits and it is squash and squash and squash. And some cauliflower and broccoli thrown in for good measure. There are only so many squash dishes one can put on their menu.

So, food starts to come from Mexico and South America. If we are lucky, California. The fight to eat locally is valiant and a fight that needs to be fought, do not get me wrong. But, running a restaurant on food grown solely in the state of Ohio is next to impossible. Unless you know someone with a very large greenhouse and your money tree is growing Benjamins.

Most crops grown in Ohio are used for animal feed. Driving through the rural counties you see a speckling of soy beans and corn, very rarely anything else. The soy that is used for human consumption is mostly sent overseas. The edamame you buy at Trader Joe's....not as local as they would like you to think.

I read a blog that talks about canning tomatoes and corn and beans. Freezing produce grown in the summer to eat all winter long. Essentially, to do what our ancestors did. To spend all summer growing food to feed your family all winter. Would I love for this to be my reality? Oh, hell yes I would. But, it's not. It's not even close. I am lucky if I cook a meal once a week. Our freezer is full of TV dinners that can be heated on the run, between jobs, or after a long ass day.

It feels hypocritical to not practice what I preach. It makes me feel like no matter how much I care, I will never be able to lead by example. I will never work for a chain restaurant. I will never work someplace that fills their menu with high fructose corn syrup. It will never happen. But, I will work places that buy avocado's from California and peppers from Mexico. I will work places that try their hardest to source their ingredients locally, that do their best to live by the ideals I feel are important. I can promise you that.

I just wish that more people would demand our food system change so that it is easier for all of us to change. I wish I had even the tiniest bit of influence in this world. I will continue to do my best, within my means, to live by these ideals. But, sometimes, it just feels like a lost cause.

Imperfect Perfection

2011-09-04T13:57:00.000-04:00

Here is the thing about working in two different worlds...they bleed into each other, creating this muddled mess of rules and food and habits.

Old job is regimented. It is strict and clean. The food is uninspiring. It is monotony and routine. It is unpredictable and predictable at the same time. It is sweat running down my back. It is rip your hair out stress. The language is muted, tongues are bitten. Political correctness runs rampant. Dick jokes are told in the corners of the walk-in. Cell phones are checked in secret. Camera's watch all the rules that are broken. It is customers paying high prices because they think organic means healthy. It is 100 chickens a day, 100's of quarts of rice, 150 quarts of fries. Eight hour shifts last an hour. It is the rush, the sweat, the camaraderie. It is family.

New job is relaxed. It is laid back and often dirty. The food is original, created daily. It is local ingredients, brought in buckets from farms. It is making mayonnaise from scratch daily. Fuck this, fuck that. Do your fucking job. It is laughter and jokes and inappropriateness. It is about the food. Not the rules. It is easy, barely breaking a sweat. It is finding stuff to do to keep busy so the shift goes faster.

I clean too much at new job, they look at me like I am crazy. I find myself forgetting to put on gloves in the open kitchen windows at old job. I hesitate to say fuck this at new job, and say fuck that too much at old job. The lines are blurred. Between two imperfect places, two imperfect points in my life. Two places I know I will not be in 5, 10, 15 years. Because all of this is finding my perfection, my perfect place. Where I run the kitchen my way, I make the food my way, and I say fuck all I want.

I GOT THE JOB, BITCHES!

2011-08-30T23:47:00.000-04:00

I will start with the best news of all...I got the job. I start tomorrow. I am ecstatic. And nervous. My new schedule is going to be slightly amazing. I will work Monday through Friday 9:30 am to 2:30 pm at the new job and Sunday through Thursday 4 pm to 12 am. So, you read this right, I have Friday night, all day Saturday, and Sunday mornings off! That is almost two whole days! Days other people have off work! So I can see them! And have friends! And a life! And wheeeeeeee!

I was also informed that at new job, I am expected to have my own dishes on the menu. My. Food. On a restaurant menu. I died. I am dead. I just can't even begin to explain how amazing this will be. Obviously, it will take some time and I will need to get a hang of things. But, my food. On a menu. It is everything.

The last bit of news is more of the "I am going to kill my cat" nature. So. Neil is on prescription food because of his bladder issues. His food regulates the ph in his bladder. He hated the food at first and we had to mix tuna with it. Then we slowly weened him off the tuna. Phase 1, we will call it. Well, Phase 2 is the phase where we stop feeding him 7 million times a day. OK. Four. But, still. We feed him a half a can in the morning, at noon, dinner, and before bed. I am pushing to only feed him twice a day. I am a firm believer that if you withhold food long enough, eventually they bend to your will. I have done this with both my dogs. They eat on a schedule, they eat all their food when it is put in front of them. Well, Short Dog still does. Kobi did.

Now it's time for the cat. Except, you know, he is secretly Stewie from Family Guy. So, instead of him just eating what he is hungry for, he eats nothing. Nada. Not even a little bit of food. He isn't having it. He wants his fresh food four times a day. And we are being stubborn and not giving in, but he is getting gradually more and more evil. Meowing and staring. Sharpening knives menacingly. You know, the usual.

Sooooooo....if nobody hears from me for a few days, it is distinctly possible I am tied up in the basement being force fed cat food by my cat. He will be eating chips.

T-Shirts I require in my life.

2011-08-26T13:40:00.000-04:00

Please diagnose my anxiety disorder.

2011-08-25T23:01:00.000-04:00

My hands smell like bacon and no amount of washing will change that.

I read this and chuckle at the comment I hear so often, adrenaline junkie. Masochist. Can't I just love food?

I find myself day dreaming about food...making notes in my idea book.

I can't focus on anything, my mind keeps drifting off. I must be tired.

What if the interview goes wrong?

What if it goes right?

Isn't getting everything you want just as terrifying as not getting it?

I get so wrapped up in the what if's, it paralyzes me with fear. I can never just let things happen. I analyze until I drive myself crazy and then I am too scared to move forward because I don't know the outcome. The unknown terrifies me. I have to know what to expect.

I can't be scared anymore. I deserve to be doing what I love.

So, no, not an adrenaline junkie. Maybe a masochist. Probably just somebody who really loves food.

Dreams do come true. Maybe

2011-08-24T21:33:00.000-04:00

I have been looking for a second job. I mentioned that I applied for a job at the YWCA and they have not called me, which upset me a great deal. I was perfect for the position, but their loss, right? I don't know. It feels an awful lot like my loss too.

Several of the other jobs I applied for called and turned out to be not what I wanted. One was only hours at night, one was like 12 hours a week, and so on. The past few days were filled with unfinished dreams and not knowing where I want to be in 5, 10, 15 years. I know what industry I want to be in, I know I want to be cooking food...beyond that...I have nothing.

Krackle and I hung out today and we spent some time discussing this, throwing out ideas, trying to plan my life. Because this is what we do. We try to find solutions to every single problem that ever existed ever. And then fail because it is impossible to successfully solve every single problem ever. It's our thing.

The conversation left me feeling...thoughtful? I am not quite sure how to explain it. The thought of having to go out and FIND my dream, to FIND the perfect job for me seemed impossible. And at the same time, I was hopeful that maybe there was something out there that fit me exactly.

Krackle has not seen Harry Potter yet, so we left her house to drive to the movie theater. On the way, my phone rang and it was a friend with a question.

"You still looking for hours during the day?"

"Yep"

"Hold On"

He proceeds to put the chef of a local restaurant on the phone, who then proceeds to set up an interview for Friday afternoon. Now, let me tell you about this restaurant. It is the ONLY farm to table restaurant in the city. It was built as an extension of a farm that has been in existence since 1860. It is all heirloom vegetables. They bring all of their scraps back to the farm and compost it. They shred their cardboard to use in animal bedding on the farm. It is local. It is sustainable. It is fine dining. Their menu changes seasonally. It is everything a restaurant should be.

They even recycle their fryer oil to be used as bio diesel fuel. You guys. Just...heaven.

And I have an interview on Friday. To say that my hopes are up is the understatement of the century. To say I want this job more than any job ever in history ever is an understatement. I have had my eyes on this place since day one, but they notoriously only hire on references from current employees. They do not hire outside their "family." And I got an in. And an interview. And hope.

So, maybe Krackle and I can solve every problem ever just by talking it through. Maybe we can't. Maybe by just putting what I wanted out there, the universe said, hey, let's give her this one. I don't know what it was, but I am not complaining. I am going to put on my best big girl outfit and go in there and kill that interview. Because this is my dream job. And I want it oh so bad.

10 Random Things

2011-08-21T01:34:00.000-04:00

In an effort to post more, when I don't have a whole post thought out, I am going to start posting ten random things I am thinking about. I used to do this a lot when Krackle, Big Jed, and I all worked together at the bank. I would list 10 things that were pissing me off. This is just going to be 10 things, that either piss me off or don't. Just, whatever. We'll see how it goes.

I wish I was the kind of person who wore hats. Not ironic hates, like hipsters wear. My hat doesn't need to make a political or social statement. Just a cute hat.
I accidentally stumbled on Roseanne Barr's new show on Lifetime. Holy. Fucking. Train wreck. It is hilarious. Seriously, bat shit crazy, owns a nut farm, gets medical marijuana, hilarious. Watch it.
I was never into greek or roman mythology before in my life, but I am reading "The Lost Hero" and now I want to read everything about mythology that was ever written. Ever.
I have been having weird dreams. Really weird dreams. Where in I become magical or have super powers or some shit. Is it weird that I always wake up so happy because I just want it to be true? Will I ever grow out of this? I blame my ridiculous obsession with Alice in Wonderland as a kid. I wanted so bad, as long as I can remember, just to fall down the rabbit hole. Sigh.
I applied for a job at the YWCA teaching underprivileged families how to cook and about proper nutrition. I was overqualified for the position, which I thought was sort of strange. I have never, in my life, wanted a job more than this. I would work 70 hours a week doing this if someone would pay me to. I would volunteer to do it if I could afford to. This is so important to me and it has been 3 days and nobody has called me. I have never wanted a job more. The job posting gave no contact information.
One of my favorite things in the world is reading Post Secret every week. It makes me happy to realize that there are other people out there with their own secrets, no matter how silly or serious. This week one in particular hit WAY too close to home. "I worry that the path I have worked so hard to get on is the one that will take me the furthest away from where I actually want to be..."
My job has put me almost exclusively on their bakery shifts. I hate the bakery shifts for two reasons. One, I get NO hours because I am fast and not lazy. I am done in 3 hours. Secondly, I really hate baking. So, now I get to play the "find something for me to do" game for 6 hours a day in order to get even close to 40 hours. Not cool.
Maybe I should have made this 5 random things? Hm.
I am so excited for our vacation next month I can hardly stand it. But, we really can't afford to go. At all. We both need it to be relaxing and easy going, but I am terrified all we are going to do is worry about money.
I have 3, 027 new emails. Somebody please find an email intervention and hold one for me. I just can't bring myself to organize it.

Doctor Dick Face, The Sinus Infection, and Biological Fathers.

2011-08-19T21:58:00.000-04:00

So....I got sent home from work today because I was vomiting and dizzy. I almost passed out several times on the line. And I was pale. For those of you that do not know me in person, this is huge. I always have rosy cheeks and a rosy nose, which I hate. But, there it is. I am never pale.

I went to the doctor, concerned because this doesn't happen to me. Everyone said dehydration, which is possible. Our A/C was out again and it was 107 degrees in the back kitchen, so the doctor said it may have been heat stroke. Regardless he sent me home with a recommendation of decongestants for water in my eustachian tube and Gatorade. I took the decongestant and have been doing my best to choke down Gatorade, which is not my favorite. At all. But, as per usual, the trip the doctors office was hilarious and I had to share.

A little background, I have seen this doctor before (I go to an urgent care, or doc in a box as I call them) and he has always diagnosed me with a sinus infection.

The doctor walks in and does the general look in the ears, the nose, etc. He did strength tests to make sure I had no weakness in my limbs. He made me close my eyes and look down and I almost fell over. Because I was dizzy. Duh.

"I think you have a sinus infection."

"I have no symptoms of a sinus infection. You tested everything. I have no pressure, headaches, nothing."

"Yes, but I believe it is a sinus infection. Or you are pregnant."

"Excuse me? How are those the only two options."

"Is it possible you are pregnant?"

"I mean, I am sexually active and trying to prevent pregnancy, but anything is possible."

"That's it, go pee in a cup."

"I'm not pregnant."

"Yes you are you."

"FINE. Give me the god damn cup."

I proceed to pee all over myself because I am shaking (I can't be pregnant) and every time I look down I get dizzy and have tunnel vision.

"Well...."

"Well what? You lead with well? What did the pregnancy test say"

"It was negative. So you have a sinus infection."

"MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMNIT I DO NOT HAVE A FUCKING SINUS INFECTION."

"Yes you do."

"Look. I don't pass out. I don't get dizzy. I don't throw up in heat. These are all things that are abnormal for me. Other than a really shitty stomach, I have a pretty strong constitution."

"I recommend decongestants for a sinus infection."

"insert string of your favorite expletives here."

And, really, the rest of the conversation went in circles and I left with little to no answers. Also, I *may* have exaggerated the conversation a tad. I totally didn't swear that much. At least that is the story I am sticking to.

So, I am at home. Eating soup and drinking Gatorade and taking decongestants and feeling OK, then feeling dizzy, then feeling OK again. But, on a positive note, if I start getting symptoms of a sinus infection, I can call him and he will call in antibiotics for me. THANK GOD FOR DOCTOR SINUS INFECTION. Dick.

Anywho...this led to another topic I would like to discuss. Dateline. Which I don't watch. Because I usually work Friday nights. But, you guys, there was NOTHING ON. So, I am watching this episode where a 19 year old girl gave up her baby for adoption without permission from the father. But, I guess in Utah, this is legal? I am only half following because I am playing Harry Potter on my iPhone. I mean, um, something cooler.

So, my question to all of you is this...and the question Dateline also posed as far as I could tell between brewing potions in my cauldron. Ahem. The baby is over a year old and has never met her biological family. Her adoptive family is stable and takes good care of her. So, who would be the better parent isn't really the issue here, I don't think. To me, who is right? Is the baby best in the care of the parents she has known for over a year? Or in the care of her biological father who is a stranger?

I don't know the answer. I have been watching and thinking and doing magic and thinking and I am just not sure. It's not really about the parents anymore, right? Isn't it about what is best for the child? But, I couldn't even imagine giving away my evil cat who spends all of his free time building nuclear weapons to blow me up, not to mention my biological child.

The mother wants nothing to do with the baby, just the father who she hid the adoption from. And he missed the deadline to contest. What do you guys think? A lot of you are mothers, so I am curious. Because I just don't know.

OK, so it's not my cat.

2011-08-17T12:00:00.000-04:00

Short Dog and I took a trip to the park today and the weather was GORGEOUS. It was just warm enough for a little sweat on the brow, but not so hot that it was unbearable. We had a good walk and ran into no one but a few bugs and snakes. Also, pardon my finger. I am not sure what happened there.

The Ghost of Terrible TV

2011-08-16T14:50:00.000-04:00

I am home at weird hours. None of my neighbors have cars in their driveways and I am frequently blocked in by various lawn care individuals, assuming that I have nowhere to go or nothing to do? I am not sure. Anyway, it is just me and the animals in the neighborhood, so it is quiet and peaceful. I like it. Nobody roaming about to see me shoving potato chips in my face while watching terrible reality TV on my DVR with no bra on. You know, because I am classy and all.

Except there is someone home. Someone devious. Someone who hates me very very much. And I am not talking about the cat, although he fits in this category too.

I will be watching my DVR in the early afternoon before work and then magically, the channel will change. It is always to either Disney, Nick, Cartoon Network, or TLC. And TLC only when it is some woman putting her baby in danger because she is scared of giving birth or some shit. It is always a birthing show. Disney is always the Wizards of Waverly Place. Nick is all over the place, mostly with cartoons with scary voices that give me nightmares. Cartoon Network is always 2 Stupid Dogs.

Now, let me tell you something about me. I don't watch any of this shit. I don't watch shows about women having babies, prepubescent wizards (shut up. Harry Potter doesn't count), or any of the other nonsense that the channel is changed to.

Originally I thought that it was just a glitch because I tend to make electronics do weird things. I don't know. I am magnetic or some shit. Who knows. But, then I noticed it was always the same shows. So, clearly, one of three things is happening.

There is someone with a universal remote that is somehow also changing my television to terrible TV shows and it is all just a funny coincidence, ha ha ha.

OR. There is some punk kid standing behind my fence laughing so hard he wets himself every time I scream expletives at the T.V. because GOD DAMMIT I JUST WANT TO WATCH THE MOTHER FUCKING END OF SUITS, SON OF A BITCH.

OR. OR. There is a poltergeist living in my DVR.

I am 99% sure it is the last one.

I have been trying to finish Suits for over an hour now and am, oh, halfway through it. I just want to know if they find out he didn't go to Harvard! And various other things that are happening that I can't follow because my T.V. keeps changing the channel.

Fuck it. I am taking Short Dog to the park.

Rut, mostly

2011-08-16T02:10:00.000-04:00

Sometimes it blows my mind that I can go eight days without posting here. And I never realize how long it has been until I get my weekly email telling me that nobody reads my blog. Because, you know, there are like 8 of you. And someone from India who should say hi. Pretty much everyone else I can identify.

I don't mean to not write here. I don't. It's just, I feel whiny. I feel like there are a lot of positives in my life, but none of them are blog worthy. And when I really want to write here, it is to bitch about something or someone, but even that feels, just, I don't know.

I am in a rut. A big ol' rut. I feel small compared to some of the things going on around me...life changing things. Having babies, losing babies, getting married,. I am just a girl looking for a new job who works shitty hours and sleeps all day. I watch too much T.V. I drink beer. I make poor decisions, you know, the usual. It just seems...less funny.

Gah. A rut. I love you guys. Don't leave me. I promise that I will do something spectacularly stupid and the creative juices will just start flowing. Or I will just come to terms with my rut and post pictures of my cat until it's over.

On a possibly related note...I am reading Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and plan to follow it up with Atlas Shrugged. I know very little about these books other than the philosophical implications. I don't necessarily agree with her ideals, but am curious. I also once read an Ann Coulter book...I seriously hope this does not end the same. Let's just say there were expletives.

We all have a right to our opinion, it's what makes this country great. Luckily, that includes my right to disagree with it.

In conclusion...rut, Ayn Rand, and free speech for all. Yeah, mostly just rut.

Selfish

2011-08-08T22:45:00.000-04:00

I can't relate to what Big Jed is going through. Nor can I really, truly understand. I can only be there to hold her hand and make her food. Because that is how I show love. I make you food. And hug you. And do stupid things to make you laugh. I am like a puppy with cooking skills. And I feel guilty for talking about how all of this changed me. I feel selfish. I feel like I am taking away from what she is going through somehow, that my feelings are invalid because hers are so much more intense.

But, this changed me. I feel like I have been woken up from a 29 year slumber. I am pretty cynical and jaded, in case none of you noticed. And the love that surrounded this entire situation has touched me in ways I cannot even put words to. A complete stranger, one of my coworkers parents, upon finding out, went to church and started a prayer circle for Big Jed. They brought together a group of 20 women, total strangers, and prayed for her and her family. While I don't believe in prayer, this touched me in a way I can't explain. Josey sent people to Big Jed's blog to lend support and encouraging words. Nurses hugged me. And I feel like my relationship with Krackle and Big Jed is completely different now. While we always said we were like sisters, this is the first time that was put to the test. I have never felt closer to the people around me and never felt luckier in my entire life.

I feel like I take so much for granted, so many things that I just always count on to be there. People I never talk to because, well, we'll talk tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Days spent lying around watching trash TV instead of getting my ass off the couch and doing something. Seeing someone. Spending time with the people I love.

Maybe this is only temporary, this new outlook on the world. Because if I am bad at one thing, it is change. But, maybe it isn't. Maybe I shouldn't let it be. We all only have today. And I am done putting off shit until tomorrow.

Two little girls

2011-08-01T22:05:00.000-04:00

I woke up with a headache and an upset stomach. I felt antsy, on edge. I got the call not even an hour after I got up.

It seems days ago that my phone rang, not a mere 10 hours. It feels like a lifetime ago that I answered.

"Big Jed lost baby A." I froze. "I'm on my way" I was at the hospital in less than 45 minutes. I sat with her all afternoon as she worried about Baby B and fretted about decisions she wasn't ready to make.

We laughed and cried. Mostly we laughed.

I met the boy downtown for dinner and halfway through, I got the call again. Her water broke. I flew back to the hospital, frantically making arrangements for her dogs to be fed and making sure everyone knew what was happening. I shoved pregnant ladies out of the way as I practically ran to her hospital room. I sat down immediately taking her hand. Seconds later, the doctor said the babies were both gone.

I have never seen loss like this. I wanted with every inch of my soul to take it away, to make it better. I sat as she said over and over "why me?" I held her hand for most of the day, stroked her hair, and tried to do whatever I could to comfort her. I sat outside the room as she gave birth to her two little girls, not meant for this world. I held her husband as he told me he could see their little eyes and noses. It was the most heart wrenching thing I have ever seen.

Someone said to me, when she first went into the hospital last week, "why do you have to be there, where is her family?"

She is my family. They were my family. I never knew I could miss two little girls so much, two little girls I never even met.

One of the nurses was rubbing my back as the doctors were doing the ultrasound and leaned down and said "thank you for being here" and it just struck me, where else would I be?

This woman says it all...

2011-07-27T13:54:00.000-04:00

I often find it hard to express the way this lifestyle makes me feel. I love it, first and foremost. But, I do feel like an outsider. And I feel like people don't always understand. This chef explains everything so perfectly I can't even try to paraphrase it. Just read.

http://www.theatlantic.com/life/archive/2011/07/a-chefs-confession-its-tough-to-always-be-an-outsider/242563/

Nobody is allowed to speak to me until Thursday.

2011-07-26T00:41:00.001-04:00

Whenever I share my blog with someone new, I look back through the most recent blog posts. I don't know why. Maybe to see what they will read, in some hope that it isn't 15 blog posts of me being stupid and insane. Or a million pictures of my cat.

So, last night I shared my blog with Moski and did my usual routine. I stumbled on the tribute to Kobi and kind of lost it. I was just looking at the pictures and sobbing. His ashes and pictures are a major center piece in my living room. I look at his picture every single day. I don't know what made me lose it, but I did. I think it is a sign of the toll this weekend took.

I promise to post all of the tales of this weekend, because my grandmother was in rare form. There are a collection of stories that will surely make you laugh. In the meantime, I am going to just sort of decompress and be as antisocial as possible. Because the last four days were filled with nothing but socializing and hosting and cooking and being nice and friendly and personable. BEING PERSONABLE IS EXHAUSTING. I do much better with cranky, surly, sweary, and sarcastic.

Welcome, Moski. Sorry if there are a lot of pictures of my cat. Thank God you like cats.