Beer & Wine Join the Cocktail Crowd

I’d like to introduce a new category to my blog, which I’ve entitled “Culinology Curiosities,” the inspiration for which is our weekly Food Chem assignment to read an article from one of six online food magazines, and to then post the article and a few notes on what we learned to our class blog forum. This is a habit that I hope to continue past this quarter. With that, here is my first sharing with the class…

http://www.flavor-online.com/pdfs/FTM2011_Robertiello.pdf

From the title, it would seem as if beer and wine in mixed drinks are equally new to the scene; what the article goes on to say is that, while beer has been making appearances in mixed drinks for a little while now, wine is “playing catch-up.”

We do tend to think of beer and wine as drinks that are meant to stand by themselves, and part of that, as the article states, is how they are advertised. Neither of them – especially not wine – are advocated as potential components of mixed drinks by their creators. Apparently, however, last summer there was a program entitled, “Rioja Pour Genius,” which encouraged bartenders to come up with mixed drinks using white, red, or rose Rioja.

One advantage suggested concerning wine in mixed drinks is the potential for attracting customers who already know a little about the wine. When they see a mixed drink which contains a wine that they are already familiar with, it opens up a very favorable opportunity for them to go a little out of their comfort zone, based on something they already like.

Sweeter wines with softer tannins seem to be a little ‘easier’ to mix, and some caution against using oaked whites save with very strong spirits such as bourbon.

Another advantage to using wine and beer in mixed drinks is the generally lower alcohol content, allowing customers to “safely” consume more.

I’m going to have to try some of these combinations at home! Vanilla ice cream with Lindemans Framboise and Double-Chocolate Stout…

So do we pass…

… the ghosts that haunt us later in our lives; they sit undramatically by the roadside like poor beggars, and we see them only from the corners of our eyes, if we see them at all. The idea that they have been waiting there for us rarely if ever crosses our minds. Yet they do wait, and when we have passed, they gather up their bundles of memory and fall in behind, treading in our footsteps and catching up, little by little.

And in my head starts playing Dashboard Confessional’s So Long…

Perfection for the Dead

‘Master,’ I asked, ‘after the great Judgment
will these torments be greater, less,
or will they stay as harsh as they are now?’

And he replied: ‘Return to your science,
which has it that, in measure of a thing’s perfection,
it feels both more of pleasure and of pain.

‘Although these accursed people
will never come to true perfection,
they will be nearer it than they are now.’

From Dante’s Inferno, Canto VI, 103 – 111, the Hollanders’ note being, ‘Thoroughly in accord with the penal code of hell, this “improvement” in the condition of the damned will only result in their ability to feel more pain.’

“Do you know, Mrs.Blythe”– Bruce dropped to a “whispery” tone, edging a little nearer to Anne– “what I would like to do to the Kaiser if I could?”

“What would you like to do, laddie?”

“Norman Reese said in school today that he would like to tie the Kaiser to a tree and set cross dogs to worrying him,” said Bruce gravely. “And Emily Flagg said she would like to put him in a cage and poke sharp things into him. And they all said things like that. But Mrs. Blythe”– Bruce took a little square paw out of his pocket and put it earnestly on Anne’s knee– “I would like to turn the Kaiser into a good man – a very good man – all at once if I could. That is what I would do. Don’t you think, Mrs. Blythe, that would be the very worstest punishment of all?”

“Bless the child,” said Susan,” how do you make out that would be any kind of a punishment for that wicked fiend?”

“Don’t you see,” said Bruce, looking levelly at Susan, out of his blackly-blue eyes,” if he was turned into a good man he would understand how dreadful the things he has done are and he would feel so terrible about it that he would be more unhappy and miserable than he could ever be in any other way. He would feel just awful – and he would go on feeling like that forever. Yes”– Bruce clenched his hands and nodded his head emphatically, “yes I would make the Kaiser a good man – that is what I would do – it would serve him ‘zactly right.”

From L. M. Montgomery’s Rilla of Ingleside, such though-provoking wisdom from little Bruce’s mouth. And finally, from J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

‘It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that’s just by making one Horcrux!’

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said, about Voldemort moving beyond ‘usual evil’. 

‘Isn’t there any way of putting yourself back together?’ Ron asked.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, with a hollow smile, ‘but ti would be excruciatingly painful.’

‘Why? How do you do it?’ asked Harry.

‘ Remorse,’ said Hermione. ‘You’ve got to really feel what you’ve done. There’s a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you.’

If I could locate it, this post would also contain an excerpt from a letter I received sometime last year from an exceptional young man who is very strongly attracted to the priesthood. He was speaking of sins being reduced, how they’re not regarded in the proper gravity, how the ‘smallest’ venial sin is still a separation from God and if regarded in that proper light, ought to be enough to bring tears to one’s eyes.

It has never occurred to me to think ‘perfection’ and ‘hell’ in the same sentence. Heaven being perpetual unity with God, purgatory being the cleansing and purification necessary to enter into the state which heaven is by nature; what of perfection in hell? Perfection is unattainable for the eternally damned, the eternally separated from God, but through their suffering, they are still moved towards it, and as they, in a sense, become more good, become more aware of the weight of their sins, their suffering becomes more intense.

By that logic, a measure of how much better we may be becoming is how aware we are becoming of our sins, and how much sorrow it brings us, enabling truer repentance.

From Bad Catholic’s post, Y’all Suck At Sinning:

But is this not what Satan would want? Is this not the ultimate victory of the one who hates us? Real hatred against you wouldn’t have you sinning happily. Real hatred would have you sinning awfully, bored with your very sin, addicted to shallow things, unable to taste even illicit happiness, much less real joy, sinning out of commitment, spending long nights justifying your actions, burning your bridges to wholeness, forgiveness and peace.

From In Conversation with God, not entirely sure which volume, but which I typed out in a previous post:

For what will it profit a man, if he gains the whole world and forfeits his life?

Jesus’ question forces us to take a radical look at the broad horizon of our life to which only God gives ultimate meaning. [...]

The saints were men and women with a great desire to belong to God completely, despite their defects.

We could each ask ourselves: have I a true desire to be a saint?

The answer would most assuredly be in the affirmative: yes.

But our reply should not be as to a theoretical question, because for some holiness is unattainable, something to do with ascetical theology — but not a real goal for them, a living reality.

We want to make it happen with the help of God’s grace. [...]

We must start by making the desire for holiness flourish in our own soul, telling Our Lord: ‘I want to be a saint’; or at least ‘When I experience my softness and weakness, I want to want to be a saint’.

To banish doubt and make holiness more than an empty word let us turn and look at Christ:

The Lord Jesus, divine teacher and model of all perfection, preached holiness of life (of which he is author and maker) to each and every one of his disciples without distinction:

‘You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.’ (Matt 5:48)

He has taken the initiative.

If He had not, the possibility of being a saint would never have occurred to us.

Jesus puts it to us as a command: be perfect!, and so it is not surprising that the Church makes sure her children hear the following resounding words:

Therefore all the faithful are invited and obliged to holiness and the perfection of their own state of life.

Consider then how vehement our desire for holiness has to be!

In Holy Scripture the prophet Daniel is called vir desideriorum, a man of desires.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we were all worthy of such a title! [...]

Allow your soul to be consumed by desires — desires for loving, for forgetting yourself, for sanctity, for Heaven.

Do not stop to wonder whether the time will come for seeing them accomplished, as some pseudo-adviser might suggest.

Make them more fervent each day, for the Holy Spirit says that he is pleased with men of desires. [...]

You tell me, yes, you want to. Very good: but do you want as a miser longs for gold, as a mother loves her child, as a worldling craves for honours, or as a wretched sensualist seeks his pleasure?

No?

Then, you don’t want to!

What I find so interesting about this particular meditation is the point it makes at the end. So many people desire what is evil… for different reasons; for some, it may be a conscious desire for evil, but more often than not, it’s simply that they don’t know any better. Their consciences haven’t been correctly formed… [...] … right? But how sad it is, then, when the ones who desires evil do everything they can to get at it, and yet we who aspire to desire only what is good are not ready or willing to do everything it takes to get at that good on the same level as the person who does everything they can to get at the evil?

Things to mull over…

December… and Day 89

For the last three weeks, I’ve been debating if I should bother posting about December. I’ve got a draft on week 22, but I stopped trying to blog on the 18th, mostly because I wasn’t in the mood once I got home from work in the days that followed. The truth is, the stress of the past month did eventually outweigh the fun of it all. If I were to write, I might begin positively, but I suspect it would slowly turn into a rant, an outpouring of exasperation that is more suited to the privacy of my journal or catch-up with sisters and Kuyas, some of which has already occurred this past week.

In my last work post, I said we’d either end up hating each other or come out stronger for it. As we passed into 2012, it seemed as if it might have been the former. I’ve said I don’t live life by either birthdays or new years, but my new year’s eve was rather bitter for the last few hours before I finally made it to my bed, and I was more than slightly apprehensive walking into day 89 yesterday.

Suffice to say that yesterday was comfortable in general and bemusing here and there; overall it was enjoyable and I am satisfied that we’re all ok.

There is one brief conversation which took place and which I think worth documenting for future amusement…

Jared: Ais, were you even alive when Space Jam came out? ’94?
me: … Really, Jared? How old do you think I am?
Jared: I dunno, nineteen. Eighteen.

I didn’t respond immediately. I was trying to decide how to take it. On the one hand, to have graduated with an Associate’s and supposed to be but eighteen is incredibly amusing and the slightest bit flattering. I’m 110% sure that Jared didn’t mean it that way, of course, but I enjoy amusing myself by deliberately taking things the way I know they’re not intended. And of course, on the other hand, I could be the typical three-months-away-from-21-year-old who is offended and disturbed by apparently not looking her age. Eh. I could really care less. If I don’t look my age now, I can hope to be mistaken as my daughter’s sister one day, as Mother is often mistaken as mine =) and Mama’s been mistaken as my mother, obviously not because I look so old, but because she also looks so young.

So here is week 22, for what it’s worth. 2012 continues =)

12/13 23:05 ~ 8.something hrs

Oooooo I’m madddddd. Ok, not really. But this will become a rant in a little bit.

I was still feeling a bit shy and slightly miffed from Saturday, so I kept my head down as I came in and tried to stay small. I was greeted loudly, as Jared has taken to doing lately, and his response to my very quietly returned how-are-you was, “Say hi to Ricky Bobby.”

It turned out that Sam wasn’t coming in and I’d be working pastry and garde. I didn’t mind the actual work at all, but I was a bit sad that Sam wasn’t coming in, if for no reason other than to have someone to chit-chat with during prep. Steve was in to prep with us today, and it did sort of make up for Sam not being there. Steve’s an equally enjoyable person to be prepping with, if not more so.

I did think that things were going ok. JRod checked my prep list, advised as to the order of prep, kept my mousse base warm, watched my bean spread, didn’t care if I prepped the apple relish upstairs or downstairs, approved my amuse, obligingly satisfied my curiosity as to schedule and menu items etc. etc. Rob said he was a bully for telling me that Rob had actually done the bean spread-watching when Rob hadn’t done anything of the sort, and so the night wore on. We ate leftover sliders, went over dessert counts, knocked out a few tickets… And then all of a sudden, out of the blue, an incident occurred which I commented on, my only intention being to clear another of potentially being wrongly blamed, and Jared goes, “Great, Jared was wrong, write it down, woohoo.” It was insufferable. It’s already been established that I can neither compliment nor tease Jared safely. I should just stop talking completely. I really couldn’t leave it alone. I was miffed and I protested that I hadn’t meant it like that at all. I couldn’t tell if he believed me.

Ooooo I need Kuya-time. Specifically with Brad. I can’t talk to Stevo about it because he’ll say I’m worrying too much and over-thinking it, and I can’t go to another girl because all we’ll end up doing is commiserating over how maddening people can be sometimes. *sigh* I just need to talk the past five months over with Brad, partly because I’ve begun to see Jared more and more similarly to how I see Brad; with great respect and admiration, nearing complete trust, and more recently with sincere concern. He says I’ll drive him crazy, but he drives me nuts sometimes; I just can’t keep up. Kuya will probably tell me not to worry about it in the end, but not before he’s spent a decent amount of time hearing me out, hashing and mulling things over, and humoring me with countless psychological insights and a bunch of random stories.

Anyway, Jared left early. It couldn’t have been 7:30 yet. Not too long before he left, Rob and I were directed to work together to clean up downstairs. “We’ll break down one box at a time… It wasn’t that funny, Ais.” I was cracking up at the thought of us breaking down a single box at a time and waiting for each other to catch up before breaking down another. He left with half the stack of boxes, and I thought he wasn’t coming back. He didn’t, but he did come and open the door for me when I brought out my half of the stack, directing me to bring it down to the recycling bin. He must have gone back for whatever was left, because he came out with more boxes and opened the bin for me. He was talking, but I wasn’t paying any attention whatsoever, because Bang was creeping up behind Rob and I was just waiting for it to happen…

“HOLY S-! WHAT THE F-?” Bang had grabbed Rob’s calf in the dark. I lost it. “I DON’T LIKE YOU ANYMORE, AIS!!” echoed in the alley behind me. “Y’alright, my dude?” Bang asked Rob later, after Jared was gone and Rob and I were waiting for things to be picked up. “I should have known something was going on, Ais just stopped talking…” I lost it again.

Too much fun, too much fun.

I got to know Rob a little better today… We talked a bit more about the New Translation, which led to things about high school and college, both of us having four siblings, Rob being the middle of five boys, all two years apart, Christmas plans, parishes… and he went through a couple things on middle and saute with me. He was also telling me about what he learned – or rather, what he didn’t learn – in Cost Control today, and I thought we were generally less sarcastic with each other than usual.

12/16 00:49 ~ 10.something hrs

a) I just got home not too long ago, b) I’m hungry, c) I’m eating dinner, d) I should probably be sleeping, e) I can’t sleep, f) I’m texting with Bradley, g) I feel like watching a movie, h) I’ll blog some other time.

12/18 19:19 39.something hrs total

me: … Yes, sir. I mean, I mean! Sorry! Sorry, Jared! Yes, Jared.
Jared: *groan* It’s like a double negative.
me: Wait… what? Double negative how? I don’t get it…
Jared: ‘Cause I don’t like ‘sir’ and I don’t like ‘sorry’!

He’s been texting “ma’am,” I suppose to get back at me for my “sir”s, but the problem is that I don’t mind in the slightest. Fail on his part.

Since the end of the quarter, I’ve been feeling more and more at home at work. I’ve begun leaving my things there… my knife kit, my hat(s)… I’ve kicked myself a couple times for putting my smaller tools in dish on accident instead of putting them back in my bag, but they’ve always made it back to me somehow – Bang knows which melon ballers are mine, it would seem – and I don’t worry by any means.

Jared gave me Wednesday off, which was completely unexpected. He was mildly amused by the fact that I didn’t know what to do with myself at first. “So do nothing for a change.” “I… can’t… do that…” I ended up spending roughly six hours with Michelle, so it was a very productive unexpected day off, but I just blanked when Jared said I could take the day off. I was telling Mother last week – I haven’t really been keeping up with my laundry because all I plan on wearing all week are my chef stuffs, and then Sunday comes and I take forever to pick out something to wear because my mind just isn’t out of uniform yet.

I’d left my knife kit on Tuesday and when I came in Wednesday, I wasted a full ten minutes hunting for it before dubiously inquiring of Jared as to its whereabouts. He was grinning to himself even before I’d gotten the first half of the question out, and answered very cheerily that he’d maybe put it on the very top shelf. Of course. I looked up and there it was, with the strap hanging down which ought to have caught my eye… if I’d been just half a foot taller. I had to stand on two milk crates to get it down. I enjoyed the whole joke immensely, which did not seem to register with Jared. “Thank you, Jared!” “I don’t know why you’re thanking me.”

Thursday was a bit strange. It started out alright, Jared was all cheery and whatnot, smiling and joking and so on and so forth, and then halfway through the night, his cheer just dropped. It literally disappeared within the space of two minutes, and then he just seemed plain tired. Jared’s mood is almost always infectious. If he’s not really in a decent mood, no one else seems to be either. I’m going to leave Thursday alone.

Friday and Saturday were considerably better, and Saturday was even less harried, I think, for all of us, than Friday. Saturday went so smoothly; seriously, I thought it couldn’t get any better… and then I got goodnight hugs from Anna, Amanda, Chris, and Rob. That practically deserves exclamation points, but it’s not a jumpy happy dance sort of happy, it’s a deep and sincere sense of peace and contentment. From the first three, it was just routine – routine that I don’t take for granted by any means, but to which I’ve become entirely accustomed – but that last hug from Rob was something else. As I’ve said, I’m most sarcastic and bicker most with Rob, and I feel that it’s all in good fun, but I’ve been unsure as to whether or not the same could be said on his part. That he was gracious enough to give me a goodbye hug seemed a good enough assurance of our mutual goodwill in spite of all our bickering.

Greg said something after hours which bothered me slightly. He was telling us that he’d asked Jason where Jason likes to hang out with his friends, to which Jason had apparently replied that he hadn’t any friends to be hanging out with. It occurred to me then that Jason does have a tendency to slip out even more quietly than Jared sometimes, especially on Saturdays, and I’ve seen Rob and Steve and Chris and sometimes Zach hanging around with each other, but not Jason.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

Quick little post on the highlights of the past four days…

• Mass on January 1st with Mama and Papa and Ninong
• Hanging out with the Wurths and the Ridenours at Barnes & Noble after Mass
• POTLUCK with Steffy, Brett, Marv, Drew, Nate, Michelle, Chelsea, and Bradley on the 2nd which included lots of delicious food, Apples to Apples, pictures, and an impromptu youtube party with Brad and Drew which lasted until very nearly midnight
• being back in class with Tim, Seth, Megan, Svetlana, Stephen, Kayla, and Sarah early on Tuesday morning
• getting to hang out with Aaron and Josh on the first day back at school
• making and having lunch with Nate, Chelsea, and Michelle after the first day of school
• visiting Receiving and catching up with Jay early early on Wednesday morning
• hanging out in the Honors room with Cory, etc.
• running into Fran at MCI
• highly enjoying my first classes of Dante and Chorus respectively
• finally making it back to the Sidewinder for a French Kiss and a Spinach & Feta croissant

And it’s only the 5th today :D Happy 2012…

… i’ve tried to forget you, i’ve tried to stay away, but it’s too late…

I can’t remember the last time I stood in the hallway waiting for the Writing Center to be unlocked. I’ve forgotten how easy it is to blog when one is the first person into the Honors room; it’s dark and quiet and relaxing and extremely cheering, especially with all the Christmas lights in here.

I keep coming back. I walked into Jay’s office and the first words out of my mouth were, “I don’t know what I’m doing here.” “That’s what you said last time, kiddo.” I mean, logistically speaking, the truth is that I dropped Dad off at work at 6:45 and I don’t have class until 11. Who wants to kill time at UC? Not me! And MCI’s in between and therefore a very convenient and completely valid option.

There’s even been time and occasion to be productive; I’ve emptied out my surge card [finally] by having cake pops (may I say that Bakery Hill does a perfectly excellent job with cake pops, and I think they’re so much better than the pumpkin or whatever ones at work, not to mention the flavorless one I had at Starbucks in September) and a soy Milkyway [also finally; it's been almost a year since Marybeth told me I had to have one].

Of course, now that it’s about 9:17 and I was let in ten minutes early by people who still recognize me, I’m beginning to feel a little sad that I’m not here with Josh, George, PJ, Martha, Anthony, Alyssa… but if these Christmas decorations are any indication, then I’d say it was a good choice to trust Cory with the tradition. I am exceedingly pleased. *strikes pose* Seriously, though, these decorations are better than anything I ever managed to pull off when I was here, and I’m excited for Cory, and Courtney for that matter, to make it to UC and then we can all be together =) Maybe we’ll even be in the same orientation class, since I missed the deadlines for this year…

I’ve still got about 45 minutes to kill before I head to UC. I guess I’ll walk around, visit some old favorite staircases, chit-chat a bit more with Jay… hopefully run into some people… Lol, I tagged along when Jay went to unlock the classroom for Smain, and I flicked Rob’s sleeve to get his attention and ask if we were prepping tomorrow. “What are you doing here?” “Hanging out.” “Geeze, it’s a bit early to be hanging out here, isn’t it?” I didn’t have time to explain; he was being ushered into class. I’m sure it’ll come up at work tomorrow or something.

Hey! the speakers still buzz when there’s a text incoming. And ah, and I have a picture for my 365 day picture challenge, courtesy of where else but Receiving. WIN.

Youtube Party

Before it becomes buried too deeply in my browser history, this is where youtube took Drew, Bradley, and myself last night:

• 21:56 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DizluhzFKFc
• 22:12 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRGpIaU8yEE
• 22:12 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hm3JodBR-vs
• 22:16 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jdWH9N-JXI
• 22:19 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMeXGE_a8Gg
• 22:25 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cboqOeuBd_8
• 22:26 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqIZDIxJgXw
• 22:27 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1b3zbnZQWsk
• 22:29 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-udnyM2oTPs
• 22:31 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruMO9SXto0Q
• 22:36 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsYWT5Q_R_w
• 22:45 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YGcVYaNxdo
• 22:49 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SGwDhKTrwU
• 22:51 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Z3PT2fUiKg
• 22:52 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXO-jKksQkM
• 22:58 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XVWR-5fiG0
• 23: 05 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7oKLQbFf04
• 23:09 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8K-F4eCDyUU
• 23:13 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O2aH4XLbto
• 23:16 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoFurLevE28
• 23:17 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etHOFmFF3FA
• 23: 19 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=by8oyJztzwo
• 23:20 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRWU2DysF30
• 23:22 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5WB-p-QBJc
• 23:25 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TruIq5IxuiU
• 23:28 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3diSiwLBSOE
• 23:31 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u778gSi94N4
• 23:34 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meT2eqgDjiM
• 23:38 – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NzLcIBgvRE

So they say…

… that what you’re doing on the 1st is what you’ll be doing the rest of the year. I’ll be cooking, cleaning, singing, eating, and sleeping. Not a bad start, I think.

2012 Shuffle

Opening credits: Close enough to start a war, all that I have is on the floor…

Waking up: Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long…

How I’m feeling today: Baby, you’ve got the sort of hands to rip me apart…

First day of school: I found God at the corner of First and Amistad…

The weekend: Galileo fell in love as a Galilean boy…

Will I get far in life: I don’t know if I can yell any louder…

Will I get married: Are you listening, Javelina? Every corner of the coast is still clear…

Will I have a happy life: I am the sea on a moonless night, calling, falling, slipping tides…

How does the world see me: I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart…

How do my friends see me: This was a triumph, I’m making a note here, “HUGE SUCCESS”…

Falling in love: Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom…

Fight song: Hand out the window, floating on air, just a flick of the wrist, and I am waving you goodbye…

Breaking up: We watched the season pull up its own stakes…

The best thing about my friends: I’m caught in a moment out in the rain…

Best friend’s theme song: I watched the morning dawn upon your skin…

High school overview: Don’t delay, something tells me I gotta go away…

Life: Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table while I look outside…

Mental breakdown: I wake up every evening with a big smile on my face…

How can I make myself happy: If blood will flow while flesh and steel are one, drying in the color of the evening sun…

Driving: I have been blind, unwilling to see the true love you’re giving…

Flashback: The sky looks pissed, the wind talks back, my bones are shifting in my skin, and you, my love, are gone…

How is my life going: She’s out of my life…

What I should do with my life: A beautiful and blinding morning, the world outside begins to breathe…

How can I get ahead in life: I’ll start this broken heart, I’ll fix it up so it will work again, better than before…

Getting back together: We were sitting, we were sitting in the strawberry swing…

Wedding: Ninety miles outside Chicago, can’t stop driving, I don’t know why…

Will I ever have children: Tell me his name, I want to know…

Birth of child: Met my old lover in the grocery store, the snow was falling Christmas Eve…

Final battle: Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and gray…

Death scene: No words, my tears won’t make any room for more, and it don’t hurt like anything I’ve ever felt before…

Funeral song: Right, right, turn off the lights…

Life overview: I wish I were pretty, I wish I were brave, if I owned this city, I’d make it behave…

End credits: They say that home is where the heart is…

Week 21

12/06 23:33 ~ 10.58 hrs

It’s going to be a heckuva long month. And we’re all either going to hate each other at the end of it, or we’re going to come out stronger for it. I sincerely hope and pray for the latter.

I have my new cat keychain on my keys and I’m pretty sure everyone thinks I’m crazy. I mean, I know I’m crazy, but it’s interesting when other people start to discover it. The comments I get are hilarious. Zach was asking Jared if he still yelled at me, and was saying that he wouldn’t be yelling at me if he were in Jared’s position, what with all the crazy illegal sharp pointy things I possessed. (Of course, he didn’t phrase it that way, but you get the idea.) Jared replied that he just didn’t care. I started telling Zach that Jared was a very nice person. Jared made faces.

We were supposed to have a 7-top and a 12-top in at 8. The 7-top became a 5-top that required special instructions on a significant percentage of their order. I was listening to the ticket being called, and we were all pretty much waiting for a dish that was not to be altered in some way. I was also told that they spent some $500+ tonight, so ok [I guess] but it was rather comical…

Anna: Seat 3′s getting [...] and stone bass-
Jared: As is? Stone bass as is?
Anna: Yes-
Jared: Holy s-, that’s awesome. We’ll send that person out a tasting or something.

Sometimes it’s actually safe to find Jared’s sarcasm amusing. I really couldn’t help laughing.

I found plasti-dip downstairs and commented to chief that Jared dipping his finger in that might prove to be considerably more effective than the liquid bandage thingy he’d been using. Chief found that amusing, apparently, and relayed my comment to Jared. Jared came downstairs and I had my back turned, and he brought my attention to… “Ais, I brought this down for you.” “Whatsit?” “It’s a slider.” “Wait… really?” (“Aww, that’s so sweet…” – Chief) “Yeah, but I think I’m gonna take it back upstairs now that I found out you’re making fun of me.” “Wha… I wasn’t making fun!!!”

We were waiting for the 7-turned-5 top’s table to be picked up and Ricky Bobby came over to pastry and just started eating amuse. As I began to express indignation, Jared reached through the window and took a shortbread cookie. “What? I’m starving,” in response to my face.

The 12-top had left a canadian number with the reservation and we couldn’t call to confirm. They never showed up. That did not help anyone’s moods, but Jared still isn’t that grumpy, or at least I don’t think he is. He came over and piped the mimosa for half of my amuse, hand-whipped the cream for my one special order of blueberries and cream, and was rather mild about it on the whole. Right before Ricky Bobby started eating amuse, I’d been saying to Jared that I just wanted him to start smirking or smiling or something. He wouldn’t, but then when I turned to discover Rob eating the amuse, Jared poked me with the metal spatula through the window. My ‘ow’ got a laugh out of him, so I was satisfied.

Rob and Sam suddenly asked me if I remembered what the 7 deadly sins were, and I named five without looking, but I missed envy and anger. That got us talking about X and Moeller and retreats and the new translation and whatnot. Good talk =) What do they teach at Catholic schools, though?? I referred to the Church as the Bride of Christ and neither of them understood me; I had to explain, and they said they’d never heard of the Church referred to in such a way in 12 years of Catholic school. We were also chit-chatting about Cinci State and I was telling Rob his term schedule between now and August and everyone was just shaking their heads at me.

See, I still cut myself on everything that isn’t sharp and shiny and pointy. I was helping unload stuff today as soon as I walked in, and I found that the back of my right pointer finger was bleeding. What the heck?! I hadn’t even opened my knife kit yet. Or even taken my coat off and put my hair up.

Jared: What time are you coming in tomorrow?
me: What time do you want me?
Jared: … 1.
me: Are you sure?
Jared: … Noon.
me: Are you sure??
Jared: … Yes.
me: 11?
Jared: … No.
me: 11:30?
Jared: Nah.

12/08 00:21 ~ 11+ hours

Today was perfectly nice, up until the last hour, hour and a half, maybe. But I am determined to focus on what was good about the day, I admit to being more than slightly disgruntled upon arriving at home – still. We can record all the fun things and spend the rest of Thursday letting go of the rest, ready for a new shot at things on Friday.

Yeah, Jared gave me the day off. I have my chem exam in the afternoon/early evening, but I meant to come in to prep still and Jared said it wouldn’t be necessary. He was given opportunities to rescind that, but there you go. And since we’re on the subject of Jared…

He took a piece of broken shortbread, and as he was on his way upstairs, I demanded to know if he’d eaten two already, because when Ricky Bobby brought my sheet trays of shortbread down, I immediately noted that two were missing. Jared half choked – he hadn’t quite gotten the broken piece into his mouth yet at that point – and replied “no” with his mouth full, everything about his facial expression, posture, and overall manner indicating the exact opposite. I suppose I ought to have let it go at that, but I didn’t, and I managed to get him to admit later that he had, though he insists that they were broken and that was why he ate them. Hmph. I still haven’t decided whether or not to believe that one.

I suppose we must make allowances, however, because Jared was nice enough to say that the tray of tarts Sami and I made did look nice. Apparently however, by contrast, I’m not allowed to pay compliments without being under suspicion.

Wednesday started out in the freezer, hunting for stuffed dates. It was worse than Receiving because the fan was blowing right in my face, and I haven’t found a temporary off-switch. Jared must have thought I was taking way too long in that freezer or something, because he did eventually join me in my search, the result of which was that neither of us could find any already-stuffed dates, sooo I just made some more.

Zach was with us again, and he will be also on Friday and Saturday. Clearly I didn’t punch him enough today, because at the very end of the night, when everyone else in the kitchen was already gone including Bang and the FoH were cleaning up upstairs, Matt brought down a very-nearly-full container of shortbread. And I’d had Sami make more because I thought we needed it! Ridiculous.

Still, aside from that tiny spot of annoyance, having Zach around again is tons of fun. It struck me more recently that he’s a bit like Migi at times… like he pushes the joke a bit too far. It feels practically disrespectful to be amused at all the things he says that come back to Jared being old. But then again, while I was breaking open boxes of bread to store in the freezer yesterday, Jared and Chief were there talking about who would be around to work this week, and Jared did refer to all of us as, “the kids,” individually and collectively in a number of sentences. So I suppose it all evens out in some sense, despite Jared’s insistence that we not call him ‘sir.’

Anyway, I was shaking my head at Zach because he had the dip out, he offered me some again, and I punched him for it this time. That got him and Sam talking…

Zach: Ow! Geeze. You have really pointy knuckles, Ais.
me: Good.
Sam: Doesn’t she?? Her elbows are really pointy, too; they hurt.

I do not recall ever elbowing Sam, but ok. Something something about me not needing my cat keychain with knuckles and elbows as pointy as mine.

Oh! Oh! I completely forgot to mention that it has been discovered that JRod is allergic to pistachios. I do not mean this maliciously at all, mind you, but WIN. He can’t make ‘broken’ comments to me and Jason anymore. Or so I would hope. Anyway, Zach nonchalantly offered Jared pistachios as he was passing by. It was highly amusing.

Fail on introducing Zach to Sami; she whipped cream and I told her to give it to Zach, and she goes, “Who’s Zach?” He was standing on the other side of me.

Honestly, I like Sami better and better the more I get to know her, and I’m really excited about working with her. I think we scared people with all of our laughing today, though, and I wonder if we won’t be allowed to work together anymore… Haha. She’s so funny, and she had the same impression that I did when I met all of the guys; I told her how, when I first saw them all on the line, I thought they could all be in a rock band or something. They just look like those kind of guys. To be fair, Steve does play the drums and did play in bands, and Jason used to do some computer music editing, but all the other guys just look so and aren’t. She agrees. She also agrees that we work with an incredibly good-looking set of guys, though we differ slightly in opinion as to which is more good-looking than another. It’s the sort of conversation I’d have with Marybeth, perfectly platonic, and completely sincere in our admiration. Haha, and Sami catches all the little facial expressions that I’ve been catching and keeping quietly to myself, because no one in the FoH is around quite enough to watch as closely; now I have someone that I can talk to and smile over them with.

Ah, that was what I forgot to blog about last week… I wore my Space Jam shirt, and pretty much everyone had something to say about it. Sam’s was the best – “Ais, can I have that shirt?” (“Absolutely not.”) Jason’s was close in second, something about remembering having Space Jam stuffed toys and such when he was little.

Today, I wore my Josh Groban shirt, and I don’t think I’ll ever do that again, because I’m going to get very annoying comments every time I do; it has been promised to me.

Matt and Garry were being particularly annoying and wouldn’t let up with their teasing. Combined, I think they’re turning out to be worse than Yards, which I would never have thought possible.  I made the mistake of appealing to Jared; his comment was that I was a really easy target.

Jared was running through Chef LaSorella’s way of making mousse with me for the dark chocolate mousse we were to send upstairs tonight, and I really wasn’t thinking at all and made a very pointless comment. See, for some reason, our mixer can go really fast if you take the time to bring it up level-by-level, but it only goes up to about half speed if you just crank it up all the way in one go. I was watching the mixer and not thinking and said out loud, “It can go faster if you bring it up slowly.” “I know, Ais,” was the very quiet reply. I did feel absolutely terrible and apologized profusely, but nothing was said. Later, however, upstairs, Chief wanted 20 chocolate cups and was telling Jared to cut off the plastic container at 20 cups. I didn’t quite catch what Chief told him, but Jared replied, “There’s five in each row, so I’m going to cut it here, and that will give you 20.” Chief gave him a reply and a look very similar to the one Jared had given me. “Jared, that was like my mixer comment.” Jared glanced very briefly sideways. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I left and cracked up once I’d made it ’round the corner.

I’m very optimistic about Friday. I mean, c’mon? Sami and Yards and Jason and Zach in one place? It’ll be a matter of keeping my head.

12/09 23:06 ~ 9.15 hrs

Hah! I am not alone. Steve also uses his server’s apron from Dining Room class. WIN.

I was greeted today with the story of Steve’s car, which died on his way to work. His aunt had to drop him off and his mom was waiting with his car for it to be towed. What makes the whole thing even more annoying/amusing is that Steve was called on to drive stickers over to the catering halfway through service and took Ricky Bobby’s car. Ricky Bobby was let off work early, but he couldn’t leave.

Jason was wearing glasses today. Seriously, Jason reminds me soooooo much of Gabe, it’s not even funny. He and Gabe have similar features, similar mannerisms, similar phraseology… and now seeing Jason for the first time with glasses on reminded me of the first time I saw Gabe wearing them. Their glasses are even the same shape! I’m finding that it’s not really possible for me to get over how alike they are. If they were to be in the same room and I had my back turned, I might not know one’s “Ho-ho!” from the other. And the first time Jason faked a lisp, I did a double take, it was Gabe spot-on. How do these things happen???

A few weeks back, some conversation was taking place over on the other side of the wall which implied that Jared was isolated in some manner. “Nobody loves me,” he’d stated dryly. “I love you, Jared!” I’d called out. I was ignored. “Nobody important loves me,” Jared amended. Jared usually throws dessert tickets at me when he gets to them before I do, and they flutter everywhere. Tonight, he handed Sami the dessert ticket. I didn’t say anything, but I must have unintentionally looked as if I might, because Sami said, “He’s nice to me because I’m new.” “You’re nice to me,” was Jared’s comment. 

Also, Jared had told me that I would be watching Sami do all the plating tonight because she would be on pastry by herself tomorrow. “Where am I tomorrow?” I asked, and I daresay I asked cheerfully. “You’re fired,” was the crushing reply. I stopped and went ’round the corner to ascertain that it was a joke. I was received with an aggravated expression and a very provoking, “What do you want now?” I went back to amuse with my head down. “So should I just walk out now?” Sauciness is not my forte. “What?” “You said I was fired. Shall I walk out now or what?” “It was a joke, Ais.” “I couldn’t tell.” “Oh, well.”

Then again, after the you’re-fired joke, I fed the other three guys on the line bread ends, and I suppose I did exclude Jared, but not intentionally with regards to the feeding, I was just keeping my head down and trying to stay out of his way for the first half of service. I guess I’ll consider it pax that he hand-whipped cream for me again and said my dessert tasting looked good.

Sami and I were laughing again. Not nearly as much as Wednesday, but we had a decent amount of fun, enough to get me through the night very comfortably coupled with hugs from Garry and Yards. I object to Garry getting Backstreet Boys stuck in my head, though.

So Steve made some 200+ chicken roulades today. I switched places with him so that he could have the whole longer back table for that, and I ended up chopping white chocolate next to Jason. Jason always asks, “Ooo, is there some extra of that?” and grabs a piece before I can say anything whenever I’m chopping white chocolate. Sam does the exact same thing, and Ricky Bobby will, also, occasionally. Anyway, today, I actually made it through half the chocolate before Jason said anything, and when he finally did, I couldn’t help laughing; I’d just been waiting for it and he took forever.

I was all over the place tonight. I was training Sami on pastry, helping Sam occasionally on garde, and helping/being trained by Jason on middle. Ricky Bobby left first, and then Jared said that either Sami or I had to go, and whoever went tonight would stay late tomorrow. I didn’t want her to be the one staying late tomorrow – she’ll already have enough on her mind starting pastry out on her own – and so I came home early for a change and I’m all ready for a very possibly near-12-hour shift tomorrow.

Speaking of which, I think I ought to hit the sack.

12/11 00:47 ~ 13.04 hrs

It wasn’t the best end to the week. I guess that’s ok. We had a pretty decent week, so I guess we had to have one day where our nerves were sorely tried. I’ve never heard Steve curse so much in one day. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Steve curse at all, which is possibly why I noticed.

Dad and Yena needed to drop me off an hour earlier than JRod had originally intended for me to be there, but it turned out to be sort of a good thing, because Sami and Jason were a couple hours late due to traffic and the Reindog parade. We were all ridiculously harried; on top of having nearly 80 on the books, we had to put out two caterings, each one with counts not much smaller than our anticipated number of covers, not to mention we were starting service at 5 and were supposed to have 50+ come in before 6:45. And I’d been given to understand that there had been three more caterings that had been canceled.

All that in mind, I suppose allowances must be made for the general grumpiness all around. And yes, I’ll admit to my thoughtlessness in having started prepping the chopped salad before the brownies and the tarts before the mousse, fine, yes, Jared was perfectly right in reprimanding me for all that, and no, I didn’t hear a single word of reproach when we had to 86 the salty caramel gelato and put a very late count up for the white chocolate raspberry and he would have been perfectly right to upbraid me for those things also, and I’m still eternally grateful and admire and respect him terribly for his endless patience with me, but… oh, it just wasn’t a good day for getting along with JRod. I’m sure he was as tired of me as I was of him by the end of the night. Still, I was pleased to observe that Sami was able to make Jared smile, since I was failing so miserably.

For a bit there, it felt as if JRod was absolutely refusing to find anything I said or did amusing. He accidentally said ‘Greg’ when he meant ‘Garry’, and I was cracking up behind the corner, but when I came ’round to inquire incredulously as to the mistake, the half-smile dropped from his face and he gave a little roll of his eyes, pursed his lips and turned away.

Ok, ok, so I was giving Jared attitude by the end of the night, starting about half an hour before he left and continuing well past his departure. “Ais, want to start doing proteins?” “I dunno, Jared; do I?” “Yes.”

Ricky Bobby brought down crab.

Rob: Here.
me: What???
Rob: Did you already do crab? It’s from Jared’s station. He forgot to send it down, so make sure you yell at him.
me: Bleh.
Rob: What?
me: I don’t… feel… like yelling at JRod.
Rob: No, you yell at him, and you yell at him good and hard.
me: Yeah right.

Strangely enough, Jared said goodbye very loudly and pointedly, which I ignored completely, though usually I’m the one to say goodbye when I actually manage to catch Jared leaving; he prefers to disappear without a word and I find out by noting that I haven’t seen him for a while and asking the servers if he’s gone. It’s whatever, I guess. I meant to put it all out of my mind, but Jared texted me at 23:48 to tell me to make sure that the space heater downstairs got turned off. I went down and unplugged it to be sure, but I was miffed. How did he know I’d still be at work nearing midnight? He knew it would take me that long to cryo-vac all the tuna and burgers on top of all the usual proteins and empty the fish tubs of old ice and ice them down with new ice? Yeah, great. I really couldn’t resist texting back, “Done, sir.”

Breakdown of me’s-to-blanks: I always get along with Steve. I always get along with Jason. I get a little annoyed at some things Sam says, but we generally get along just fine, and in fact, I think we’ve grown considerably closer just in this past week. I was pretending to be all annoyed at Sam eating things off of my board [no differently from any of the other guys, of course] and he just grinned and said, “Love you, too, Ais.” I think Sami and I will be fine, too. Jared and I are up and down and I just can’t keep up with his mood swings; I bet he thinks I’m just plain ridiculous. Ricky Bobby and I are constantly sarcastic with each other, but I enjoy it immensely even if he doesn’t. Amanda and Anna Moi and Anna Webb and Adam are just awesome all the time. Matt and Garry are merciless when they’re in the mood to tease, but they’re generally agreeable no matter how harried we all get. Doug is similarly merciless, but not similarly agreeable when he’s not in a good mood; he’s fun when he’s happy and intolerable when he’s crabby. Greg and John try my patience, the latter more than the former, but I still try to avoid unnecessary conversation, and while the latter has learned to stay somewhat out of my way, the former has yet to get a feel for when to speak to me and when to stay out of my way. My board is not for leaning on and chit-chatting, especially when I’m trying to work a cheese plate, ok?

*sigh*

Ok, ok, moving on. Let’s talk about some good stuff. Highlights of my night… let me see. Hugs from Anna, Amanda, Garry, Doug, and Jason. Silly Doug objected to my hugging everyone; something about supposing he was special, to which Garry replied that his hugs were better than Doug’s. Frankly, they are; they’re considerably more friendly and less creepy. Rotfl, I use creepy lightly. If it were really creepy, I wouldn’t be putting myself in such a position. And yes! Hugs have made it into the BoH, courtesy of Jason ^_^ He was wearing glasses again today and looking too much like Gabe. When JRod and Rob get grumpy and Sam starts saying irrationally angry things, Jason and Steve are like fresh air in an incredibly stuffy room. It’s the little things… Steve being so calm and soft-spoken most of the time, it’s contagious… Jason coming over and randomly sharing the times for perfectly seared tuna, pointing out the sinew, explaining its placement to Sam and myself… the two of them testing me on First Growths… I think it’s the way they find and make time to make work more than just work. They just have a gift for it. Even just the way Jason starts conversations. Last night, after he’d packed up and changed and was all ready to go and I was still cry-vac-ing stuff, it was, “Hey. Not to interrupt your singing, because it’s lovely, but have you checked out Regina Spektor?” That led to stories of how he got into her, etc. Ah, I have been informed that the way to make Jason really happy is to give him fried chicken. He was terribly distracted by the fried chicken I brought down for him before others could eat it all. In fact, his distraction was infectious. I started getting distracted when more fried chicken showed up. Maybe I was just really hungry for a change.

Haha, I was telling Sami to get ingredients together for the tart dough, and I know the recipe off the top of my head, so I was just listing off ingredients out loud because I didn’t feel like running to get my book from my knife kit.

Steve: Is that the brownie recipe?
me: No, it’s the peanut butter tart dough.
Steve: Oh, gotcha.
Jason: So what’s the flan recipe?
me: Nice try.
Jason: One of these days, I’ll get it. Steve, have you had her flan? It’s delicious.

=) I’m glad Jason likes the lecheflan so much. So do the servers; they’re always badgering me for scraps, broken shortbread pieces, mousse spoons at the end of the night… Unfortunately for them, aside from the piece of shortbread that Zach broke, the supposedly two broken pieces that Jared ate, and the one that cracked because Rob put one baking sheet on top of another and the corner of the top one was resting on a cookie, all my shortbread remained intact this week. Sorry to them, but that pleased me immensely. Still, I try to do my best by them in terms of bread ends and such. They know my system now, which is that I leave all bread ends out of under the napkin, exposed in the corner nearer their station so that they can get to it easily when they go back for short breaks. Yards is the only one who still doesn’t trust my system; he’s forever lifting the napkin to check even though I tell him there’s nothing under their for him to eat.

Speaking of which, Yards wasn’t with us tonight and I missed him. It was the sort of night that he would have been able to make better in many ways. Oh, but that’s suggestive of negativity. ANYway…

Jason’s promised to bring in samples of his senior project. I’m hyper.

There’s a ton of stuff I’m forgetting, as usual, but I’m ridiculously sleepy, so. If anything major comes up, it will be in a Week 21; Part II post.

GOODNIGHT.

Days 72 and 73

“Ready for it?” “What… oh.” Day 73 ended with a fist-bump from Jared. With fireworks. Oh snap. Wasn’t expecting that one. Needless to say, I’m extremely grateful.

Apparently I’m to know Ricky Bobby’s school calendar. What’s sad is that I do know it… JRod and Rob were talking and I wasn’t listening, I was over at the white fridge, and all of a sudden, Jared yells,

Jared: Ais! When does school end for Rob?
me: What..??
Jared: When does school end for Rob?
me: February…
Jared/Rob: Oh geeze. (Jared:) But when’s his break?
me: He’s off either the 23rd or the 24th… and then he goes back the 2nd…
Jared: The 24th is Christmas Eve.
me: I know, but that was literally what our break was like, like we got off the day of Christmas and had a ten-day-ish break. And then the term ends either the last week of January or the first week of February and he goes back a week later.

Later, downstairs:

me: Doesn’t Ricky Bobby know his own school schedule?
Jared: Nope.
me: So does that mean I’m going to have to be doing this for…

I stopped. I almost said for the next two years but I felt that would be presumptuous.

Still, Jared responded, “Yes.”

me: Ok, well, his terms will almost always end on Mondays and-
Jared: I’m just concerned about this month.
me: Oh. Well, ok then, he probably gets off the 24th-
Jared: He has a class on Wednesdays from 8 to 2.
me: Yeah, I know.
Jared: *pause* Ok, you know. So… what other classes does Rob have?
me: He has cost control on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Survey of Hospitality Careers…

Jared was standing there staring at me like I was nuts.

me: Never mind, Jared, go on upstairs.

He gave a curt nod and headed up. I double-checked CState’s sched yesterday and I was right (dare I say, ‘of course’?), and I texted Jared. He replied with, “Sorry.” And that was all.

I knew by the look on his face that Jared had noted that creme anglaise prep was being done a second time around on Friday, but he didn’t look like he was going to say anything right away, so I jumped the gun.

me: Yes, Jared, it happened.
Jared: What happened?
me: I was crying-
Jared: What? There’s no crying here-
me: The red onions made me cry-
Jared: And you walked away?
me: No, I did not leave the creme anglaise, but it curdled while I was crying. *pause* Jared, are you smiling?
Jared: I’m smirking, actually.

Later on Friday, nearing service time, Jason had come upstairs and opened the white fridge and was talking aloud to himself, wondering what on earth he’d come upstairs for. “Oh right, I was going to the bathroom.” I didn’t say anything, I had my head down and I was smiling to myself because I was remembering the time that Stevo had come out of the freezer and forgotten that he’d come out of the freezer with the intention of going to the restroom. I didn’t make a single sound! but Jason said, “Shut up, Ais!” in response to my face, and then, not half a second later, after I’d glanced up in [silent] indignation, “No, wait, sorry, I didn’t mean that; don’t shut up, things would be really boring if you did.” Yards found me staring in bemusement at the door.

Yards: Who’s in there?
me: Hm?
Yards: Is Jason in there?
me: Yeah.
Yards: What did he do to you?
me: What?? Nothing!
Yards: Then why are you like that?
me: Nothing, he said something weird…
Yards: What did he say??
me: It… wasn’t anything.. whatever.

I was leaning against the corner next to the ticket station, it’s become one of my preferred places to stand when we’re all waiting; the point is, there I was, minding my own business, and Matt came and bumped into me on purpose. I punched him for that, but he kept bumping into me on purpose all night long. He also came around the corner later with a rubber band. “You know what’s worse than getting hit by a rubber band? The anticipation of getting hit with one.” I was shielding my face. Didn’t happen, of course, but I’m proud to say that soon afterwards, he was standing behind me, Yards was making a face as if he was scared for me, and Matt flicked it right next to my ear and I didn’t even flinch.

Speaking of rubber bands, I couldn’t help laughing when Jared flicked a rubber band at Bang the other night to get his attention, because he had his earbuds in and the music up so loud that he didn’t hear Jared saying his name and asking for a rinse.

Garry complains that when Yards is around, I don’t pay any attention to him. That is a lie, but he just wouldn’t let up. I was standing at the aforementioned corner facing everyone on the line as well as Yards and one of the other servers, and Garry came ’round the corner with, “If you could just stop staring at Yards for five seconds, Ais, and help me out here…”

I suppose it’s because I’m the girl, and on top of that, the youngest, and on top of that, the shortest [in the kitchen]. So I get picked on and teased and whatnot. I’m just grateful that all of it makes me laugh rather than getting me worked up.

Jared had said last week that I oughtn’t get used to his seemingly being in such a good mood of late, because of how crazy things are becoming with the season and how grumpy it’s going to make him. That being said and noted, I comment on it now. “It’s nice to see you smiling, Jared.” “It’s nice to hear you tell me when I’m smiling, Ais.” I still can’t decide if that was sarcasm or not. But then maybe he couldn’t tell if I was being sarcastic myself.

Snap! I have to tell Bradley that his prediction has not come true; somewhat close enough to the opposite, in fact. Jared looked up from scrubbing down the oven and asked if I was talking to him from across the window. I clarified that I was singing. “Should I stop singing?” I’d demanded. Negative, was the reply, and the tone was mild. Suits me.

I don’t think I blogged about Chief commenting on my not singing one day, and I’d pointed out that the radio was on and that I had nothing substantial to add to Journey’s awesomeness. The next day, I came in to prep at about the same time as Jason, the trash can and the sani bucket weren’t set up and the radio hadn’t been turned on yet, and Jason came over to where I was setting up and said, “Hey. I’m not going to turn the radio on, because I know how much you want to sing.” I was a bit embarrassed, and I persuaded him to turn it on eventually. “As long as you’re sure, Ais.” More recently, Jason was upstairs on a Saturday doing tapas and we weren’t on the wire yet, so I was singing at my station, and he’d come down for spoons or something. “Hey, Ais, you want to come upstairs and sing for the guests? It would be a great topping for the tapas…” which was so terribly corny [on purpose, I'm sure] that I really couldn’t help laughing. A few days later, it was, “Somebody hand Ais a microphone or something,” in passing.

Chef LaSorella had sent us Sami for a stage, and I had such a good time with her. She was in International with Steffy and Kuya Steve – I knew she looked somewhat familiar – and we ended up chit-chatting about MCI stuffs and people all night long. At some point, I was asking her what time she had gotten up Friday morning, and Jared answered before she did.

Jared: 7:30.
me: I wasn’t talking to you, Jared, I was asking Sami.

Jared made a face. I’m sure he already knew that, but since he’d volunteered it, I thought it polite to ask later.

me: So you got up at 7:30 today?
Jared: I did.

It wasn’t a very conversational tone.

me: I thought you weren’t a morning person, JRod.
Jared: I’m not.

Still devoid of encouragement.

me: Then what were you doing up at 7:30?
Jared: I was at work at 8.
me: Oh. I’m sorry.
Jared: Why are you sorry??
me: I’m sorry that you’re not a morning person but you make yourself get up at 7:30 because you have to be at work at 8.
Jared: Eh. It’s kinda nice, actually, being here in the morning.
me: Oh yeah?
Jared: Yep. It’s quiet, no one else is here… saying sorry…

I guess I set myself up for that one.

I liked Sami. I told the guys so after she’d left. “Yeah?” “Yeah, she’s lots of fun…” All of them groaned. “Oh geeze.” “Oh no.” “We don’t have fun here, Ais.”

I occasionally call Jared ‘sir’ and he’s never objected before, but on Friday, he stopped on his way upstairs and told me not to call him that. “But… why not?” “It makes me feel old.” “Oh… I’m sorry?” “Oh geeze, Ais.” Sometime halfway through service, however, I noted that Yards had called him ‘sir’, and he hadn’t said a word. I called him on it.

me: So how come Yards can call you ‘sir’ and I can’t?”
Jared: … Did he call me sir?
me: Yes!!!
Sami: He just said it, like, three times.

Jared just stared for a while.

Jared: I’m… seriously thinking as hard as I can and I just… can’t come up with… anything.

I meant to leave it at that for a bit, but it continued as I came ’round the corner.

Jared: Steve called me sir earlier and I stopped him, too.
me: Are you offended when I call you ‘sir’? I mean it respectfully.
Jared: No, I just would prefer that you not call me that.
me: Is there something else you’d prefer in particular?
Jared: ‘Jared’ works wonders.
me: No, I mean…
Yards: Ais, you work for Jared and so does Steve, but I don’t. That’s why.
me: What… what?! That doesn’t make any sense at all. You can call him sir because you don’t work for him?
Yards: Yeah… (dubiously) Why don’t you call him cheerio or something.
me: What??
Yards: Yeah. That word of respect that you have, it’s like cheerios or something. Cheerios are a breakfast cereal. Did you watch Narnia or something and just pull words out of it?
Jared: Chronicles of Narnia.
me: It’s kuya.
Yards: It sounds like cheerios.

I left. It was all too bizzarre.

Matt was there a little later, after Sami had left, and I called Jared ‘sir’ again on purpose, and without looking around at me, Jared interjects with, “You know I’m just completely ignoring you right now.”

Yards and Ricky Bobby were talking about how Jason always puts himself down or gets sarcastic with people when they compliment him, and how he needed hugs and love and mothering. It’s interesting hearing guys talk about those sorts of things. It’s not that I’m the sort of girl who supposes that they’re completely oblivious, it’s just been a long time – at least three years – since I’ve heard guys discuss similar matters amongst themselves. It makes me miss the Brothers’ Household.

Oh, Yards used the word ‘decimate’ to describe what would happen if he punched me back. I had to give him a high five for that; ‘decimate’ is a great word.

I get hugs from almost everyone in the FoH now. Mostly hi and/or goodbye hugs, but we’re picking up again – we did somewhere around 70 covers on Saturday – and a few are-you-doing-ok and keep-it-up hugs were necessary here and there for Anna and Amanda, bless them. I take it hugs aren’t a BoH thing, though.

One of Matt’s best friends who is also named Matt has come in twice to prep with us in the past couple weeks, and he asked a rather odd question while he was there prepping on Saturday. He and Jason and Steve and Sam and I were all downstairs, Rob and Jared popping in occasionally of course, but somehow it had tapered down to Matt, Jason, and myself nearing service. Jason left temporarily and Matt asked, “So how long have you two been dating?” I stopped. “Excuse me?” “Yeah.” “… Do we… act… like we’re dating??” He laughed. “Yeah, you do; that’s why I asked.” “Uhmmm, we’re not.” “Oh, well why not?” That conversation was even more bizzarre than the ‘sir’ conversation, but then not too long ago, Garry had said something to the same effect; something about him thinking I was strange for having been working with all of them for a decent number of months and not having tried by now to get a date with one of the guys.

TANGENT. I need to make myself a shirt that says, “Thanks for the blog material,” on the front and, “I’m so gonna rip you,” on the back. Ok, maybe not the back part. Not very Christian. But it would be great to wear to work.

Speaking of shirts, Chef Myatt says he’s going to get the Team Myatt shirts reprinted, and I insisted on needing one.

What I need now is sleep… four very long weeks ahead, and I still have one last exam to stress about this Thursday. YEEK. But I’m happy to say that I find the prospect of spending that much time at work rather exciting. Let’s hope it doesn’t die down too soon. Deserts and harvests, yo.

for elizabeth

Ok, first set up your road map. Say you’re doing a grams of A to grams of B. Your road map would be:

grams of A –> moles of A –> moles of B –> grams of B

Now, label your road map with numbers [or letters]. Grams of A = step #1, etc.

#1 —> #2 —> #3 —> #4

Then, set up your problem. Start with your question-mark-equals, and then from there, plug in your units before plugging in your numbers. Check out this pattern in reference to the numbered road map above; you’ll start out with #1, which is grams of A, yes? Your conversion factors will be #2 over #1, then #3 over #2, then #4 over #3.

#2 x #3 x #4
#1     #2    #3

which is

moles of A x moles of B x grams of B
grams of A    moles of A     moles of B

See how if you read in a circle from left to write and then down and back (basically clockwise), it reads “1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 2, 1″? No matter how many conversion factors you have, you should be able to read that circle, whether it’s “1, 2, 3, 2, 1″ or “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” As long as you have your road map in front of you, plug in the units, and then you won’t plug any numbers into the wrong places.

Week 19

This week was a day shorter, of course, but it felt longer, for some reason, and it was rather trying, in retrospect. It cannot be solely due to having gone in two hours earlier than usual on Saturday, though I got the vibe that pretty much everyone was more anxious than usual to get that particular day over with… not even because it was one of the more hectic service nights; Jared left rather early for a Saturday, actually, and we were fine. Everyone was just anxious to bounce; you could feel it in the air. I know I was being a little short with Greg and John and even Garry, and I do believe I was actually annoyed at Jason for a bit, which was bizzarre.

Heh. I was walking back towards the kitchen from filling my MCI mug, and it must have registered subconsciously  that Yards was standing there before I actually saw him properly and knew, because I caught myself offering a hug in some strange inexplicable combination of greeting, gratitude, and relief, and rather abruptly took half a step back. By that time, his arm was out to receive the hug, and then there was that awkward split second after everything had finally registered and I was confused and trying to decide if it would be too informal to follow through or too rude not to.

But then, as it turned out, there were lots of hugs on Saturday =) one of them being pictured above. Ok, ok, so we were all really happy that Yards was back.

Wednesday was fine, Sam wasn’t there, I worked pastry and garde, so on and so forth, etc. etc., nothing too out of the ordinary. Except for maybe Ricky Bobby being incredibly nice and helping me out by prepping a couple things for garde. Maybe it was Friday that did it. I’ve never seen Jared that tired, and it didn’t help that everyone was ordering duck. And then there was some headache and confusion over its being 86′d. “Exasperated?” I asked. “And it’s not even you this time, is it?” “I know, right?”

When Jared left yesterday and Ricky Bobby moved over to saute, Greg was saying something to the effect that he wasn’t allowed to smile anymore. “Why on earth?” “Because he’s Jared now, he can’t smile,” was the reply. “Jared smiles!!” I protested incredulously. “No he doesn’t.” “Yes he does!” “I’ll believe it when I see it.” “What?!?! You’ve never seen Jared smile???” “Nope.” I continued to protest, to no avail. Maybe it’s just the guys, I thought, and Greg is fairly new. So I took it to the ladies. They said they’d never seen Jared smile either.

I mulled it over in my mind as I drove home. I remember that when Brad left Receiving, Bender was saying something about how everything was so much less stressful and significantly less negative, and I just couldn’t understand. Bradley [and Stevo, while he was there] kept this little girl smiling and sane, all the time. Jared’s so much fun to work with. That others seem to be missing out on that makes me said, as it made me sad to think that there were people who actually thought Receiving was better without Bradley around.

Anyway. Matt and I were sparring again. Completely random, in front of the bar while Garry was getting me a drink. He picked up a chair, and then he said we’d take it outside later. I said he should wait till Jared was there. (“I… don’t want to see you get beat up…” – Jared)

New Kayla’s gone byebye as of Friday, Sam was off that day, and Zach was upstairs on Saturday. Quite the irregular week with people and times and prep and whatnot.

Jason was saying something to the effect that it wasn’t fair that I was using more big words than just “exasperated,” since he only had “fortuitous” [which he wasn't even using correctly xD]; I’d whipped out “volition” and “precipitated” and “nostalgic” this week, among others, and I had to define all of them.

I think I might be stoned if I start talking about tesseracts or something.

Lunch, a Downtown Adventure, Practice Practical Final, MCI reprise, and Weeks 17 & 18

The first thing I told Jason when I walked in to work on Saturday was that Chef Yek had said my translated product wasn’t sweet enough for the mainstream market. He made it sound like that was something I ought to have known =) BLAH. I may have grown up here, but I haven’t quite got the American taste for sweets.

We’re to come in at 7 rather than 8 on the day of our final, and I’m freaking out. I went to MCI today and I found out that all of MCI Operations is invited. I suppose that ought to make me feel better on some level, because at least I’ll know a decent amount of people, but… *sigh*

Stevo’ll be there. I stopped in at Receiving and saw him, but he seemed busy, so I didn’t say anything.

I got my jacket from Jay, went upstairs to hunt for Chef LaSorella and get my shirt from her, chit-chatted with Chef LaSorella, Chef Huller, Chef Myatt… bumped into Chef Kinsella… Chef Huller says she ought to be on the shirt, too, standing in between Chef Myatt and Chef K, pushing them apart =) If I could have just gotten a picture of her when she posed for that brief split-second, I could’ve cartoonified it and iron-transferred it onto my shirt. Lol. Chef LaSorella and I were talking about work, and I told her about Jared asking if she’d taught me how to make toffee, and how he’d said he’d have to give her a call sometime when I said she hadn’t. Of course, not knowing the significance, I’d just taken it, but Chef gave me my comeback for tomorrow, which is to ask Jared why he didn’t go and learn it from her all the years that she was there making it =) I can’t wait.

I also stopped by the Honors room and spent a decent amount of time catching up with Cory and making all sorts of plans for digging out a hobbit hole and discovering the broom closet that no one knows about at UC once his batch joins mine. Good times =) and the markerboard hasn’t been erased since I left!!! Mine and Josh’s and George’s goodbye notes are still there.

So yeah, after wandering around for about 30 minutes, I headed back down to Receiving and bid everyone a happy Thanksgiving, and I really did mean to leave it at that, but Stevo greeted me, then declared that it was time for a sidebar.

It was pouring outside and I thought it looked absolutely miserable, but then Steve smiled and asked, “Isn’t it nice?” and indicated the rain. When I hesitated, he added, “I like it.” And then I realized that I’d forgotten just how much I love standing on that hill, enjoying all the different seasons from the semi-sheltered semicircle that is the dock. Sidebars with Brad and Steve were the best on otherwise miserably-weathered days. We had a nice long talk, it must have been at least fifteen minutes, if not twenty.

I know it’s not yet December, but I’m soooo anxious for January’s potluck… on top of Michelle and Nate being in the same place, to get Stevo and Bradley and Steffy in the same place as well…

Somehow, I haven’t had much Kuya-time at all in the past month. Things came up that kept me from my previously regular Stevo-and-Josh time on Tuesdays. I don’t think I tend to appreciate it any less when it’s fairly frequent or regular, but Kuya-time is always even more terribly refreshing than usual after a hiatus, especially an unplanned one. One of the best characteristics of Kuya-time is the spontaneity of conversation. I wasn’t expecting a twenty-minute sidebar, but we talked about UC and MCI and Dante’s Divine Comedy and Harry Potter and co-op and Texas and mosquitos and Indiana and hunting and deer and and white hair and lunch and work and teachers and people and master’s degrees and mindsets and… other things.

Well, well, moving on to work.

What precipitated the following conversation, I still have absolutely no idea, but here I am, minding my own business, probably singing to myself while prepping on pastry, and suddenly Jared stops at my station and goes, “So, I dated this girl from Denmark once…” Something something about high school and international students followed, which frankly, I didn’t really catch because I was busy trying to look around and figure out who he was talking to without looking as if I wasn’t paying attention in case he really was actually talking to me. When I’d ascertained that I was the only human being in the immediate vicinity and decided that I wasn’t imagining that Jared was looking at me while he spoke, I really couldn’t help cutting in with, “Jared… why are you telling me this?” “Oh. Never mind. Just thought you’d be interested in my life story.” I felt horrible. But he wouldn’t talk about it anymore, no matter what I said. Fail. And I interrupted him. Epic fail.

Jared occasionally snaps his towel at the grill or at the bains sitting next to it at random times on slow nights. I’m just waiting for him to snap his towel at me. Seriously.

Sam: Ais, Yards is looking for you. I don’t know what he wants.
me: Does he have an apple?
Sam: Yeah, now that you mention it, he was holding an apple. Why; does he bring you apples??
me: No, he wants me to cut it for him. Tell him I’ll be up as soon as I can.

Go figure, Sam runs upstairs and starts yelling for Yards to do it himself. I only caught the first bit of it.

me: What did you do?!?!
Sam: I really don’t think I should repeat what I said in front of you.
me: But what if he believes you?!
Sam: Ais, you really think he’d believe me? You’d never use the language I chose.

I guess he told Jason exactly what that was once I was sufficiently distracted. Jason seemed to find it funny.

When I finally finished what I was doing, I went upstairs… only to find that Jared had cut the apple for Yards. “But he didn’t cut it with love, Ais.” Later, still early in service, Jared gave me an apple to julienne for the scallop apps. “See, Jared, look at that; she’s cutting it with love.” Rme.

Fr. Geoff and Marv were at the Panera on Calhoun for lunch a couple Tuesdays ago. Aaron had an exam, unfortunately, and apparently a number of other UC students from St. Max had similar conflicts, so I was one of two students, the other being a senior in DAAP. I couldn’t stay for as long as I would have liked, as I had to head over to Raymond Walters for my afternoon class, but it was a terribly gorgeous November Tuesday, anticipated high in the 70′s, and I stopped by Receiving for half an hour-ish to catch up with Jay. It was just one of those perfectly lovely days where absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong.

I picked up Aaron and Anna Marie on Friday morning. UC holidays equals downtown adventures, and it was a bit on the chilly side, but the sun was shining, and that was about as much as one could hope for. We had brunch at It’s Just Crepes, checked out the Skywalk and Macy’s to keep warm, were the first customers in at Abby Girl Sweets, and finished off our downtown adventures at Findlay Market. Mrs. Ridenour met us entirely by chance in the elevator on our way up to Anna Marie’s room, and joined us for our feast of cupcakes. I’ve never been a huge fan of cupcakes, but those were killer. It’s Just Crepes is awesome. We each got our own, and then we shared the crepe of the month, which was Bananas Foster, and boy was that a work of art. Dojo Gelato is always wonderful, and Abby Girl Sweets was quite the find.

Oh, Matt. First he was complaining that I’d bruised up his arm so badly from all the kicks I threw; now he’s bragging that he beat me up. Silly, silly Matt.

So, I guess I had it coming. Jared randomly said sorry to me the other day as I was walking past, and I stopped and asked, “Whaat…. Why…” “Believe me, Ais, I ask myself that same question all the time.” “But… When I say sorry, I have a perfectly legit reason for doing so-” “In your head, Ais.” “No-” “Yes.” “… I’m sorry…” “Oh geeze.”

Later in the week: “You need to stop being sorry.” “Oh. *pause* Should I… be asking permission to be sorry-” “NO.”

And then the other day, Jared was at the window and Ricky Bobby was at the white fridge behind me, and they were having a conversation over my head about something so I wasn’t paying any attention, and then all of a sudden it registers that Jared is saying, “Sorry… sorry… sorry… sorry…” and I look up from the amuse and find that Jared’s looking at me.

Maybe he will cure me eventually of saying sorry all the time, but I highly doubt that he’ll find me any more tolerable for it.

We went to Music Hall on Wednesday, the restaurant was closed to the public. We were there with Tony’s, Kyoto, Taste of Belgium, JR, and others that I didn’t catch. The best part was that Taste of Belgium had their speed rack of goodies stowed in the back area where we were plating, and sometime in the latter half of the evening, the chef bid us take whatever we liked, soooo…. on top of a hotel pan of duck confit that hadn’t quite worked out the way it should’ve and foie gras that had come back on our cart when things had slowed down somewhat, I had a pumpkin cake pop, lemon tarts, a bunch of chocolate somethings, more cake…

Sam and I were doing the antipasti platters; I was doing the garnishes in the back and he was slicing the meats and plating them at the booth. Chief and Ricky Bobby were plating foie in the back; that was going out on a cart which was really a table on wheels and being followed by servers offering Eiswein. Jared was plating the duck at the booth. I think Adam and others were pouring wine at the booth as well. I had been instructed to keep up with plating garnishes and stop when I reached 250, so I had the Manchego and the membrillo cut and counted after Doug had taken some and I’d told him point-blank to stop or I’d make him. And then I came back to find Jared eating pita and Manchego. “Jared, you, too?? I had those counted…” “I’m starving. I need to eat something or I’m going to faint. You don’t want me to faint, do you, Ais?” “I suppose not, Jared…” “Ok, then.” “So I’m short one?” “No, I’ve had, like… four.” “Oh, brilliant…”

Well, that was fun, and I’ve tons more to share, but I think it’s time to sleep… lol.

Dinner with two of my favorite people ever tonight =)

Peace.

RE: Sugar coding your homeschooled moron

Since socializing and people skills seem to be the main concern of these students, then those are the issues which I will address.

In the real world, dears, you will not be with people your own age every single day.

One of the greatest potential strengths of homeschooling is giving children the opportunity to interact with people of many different ages on a regular basis, which is exactly how it will be once they hit the ‘real world.’

If you’re worried about ‘people skills,’ public school isn’t necessarily the place to be. There are good public schools which I would consider perfectly valid options in situations where homeschooling really isn’t possible; in my own experience, I would have willingly returned to public school after a five-year homeschooling period had my family been just thirty minutes SE of where we live currently. Looking back, therefore, I can say without any extreme and unreasonable partiality that, when surrounded by people your own age and similar maturity levels, there isn’t much room to be different, without potentially being [sometimes unintentionally] repressed by your peers.

I was lucky in high school – my preferred circles at the time were with public schoolers, and I somehow managed to get into an exceptionally amazing crowd of nonconformists who were comfortable with themselves, knew the importance of self-respect and respecting others, weren’t afraid to do things their own way, and built each other up in everything. Even in the most heated debates – and we had plenty of them – what it always came down to was that we were friends, and that at the end of the night, that was what mattered. But I resent how different I was made to feel years earlier in elementary school, when I was told that I had an accent and made fun of because no one could pronounce my last name. It’s been a long time since I recalled how they used to chant “AISA NO-NAME!” but it still stings, because I did not have the self-confidence then to stand up to them and be proud of who I was. At that age, being surrounded by people  my own age was not fun, not cool, and not productive.

Being allowed to thrive and really be yourself is so important, for different reasons at different points in your life. At every age, you search yourself on a different level. Finding yourself at five isn’t anything like finding yourself at fifteen, but it’s a constant process, and you need to have room to become self-aware and become comfortable with yourself at any and every age. To be able to do that, sometimes you need people who are younger than you to look up to you and give you a reason to be better at setting a good example for them. Sometimes you need people who are older than you to lovingly teach you humility and impart wisdom beyond your years. In the real world, you’ll need to be able to switch gears on the fly and comfort the crying toddler who has temporarily misplaced their parents one minute, then speak calmly and coherently to the adult who is ten or fifteen or twenty years older than you the next.

And if you, like myself, aspire to be a good parent one day, public school is not necessarily the place to learn when to be a parent and when to be a best friend; I think the most you can hope to find absolutely anywhere is a good outlet for commiserating when your own parents are being ‘unreasonable.’ <– extreme sarcasm

I am curious; you go to school with the same set of people, year after year, day after day, but how many of those people are actually, really and truly, your friends? Do you know them? What do you know about them that won’t be superficial information two or three or ten years from now, if it isn’t already? Are they so very dear to you that when you end up on opposite ends of the country for college and work and life, you’ll make a point of driving or flying out to see each other someday, sometime, and with whom you’ll not merely be content to be ‘facebook friends’?

I wonder how much of your extra-curricular activities take place outside of your own school building, with people who don’t go to your school, especially when you’re in high school. The real world will expect you to move in different circles, constantly adjusting to the norms of each circle. Will you wear masks, or will you be able to bring your true self in its fullness into each circle?

Haha, I’m having too much fun with this post.  Look no further than this blog, dears, for a completely and hopelessly “sugar coded” homeschool moron.

Third-year college, and I seem to be doing alright. I don’t mean to brag, only to highlight what has remained important to me because of what values homeschooling helped me to recognize and embrace. I’m still on good terms with my parents, still happy to be home with the family every night, still happy to be with my siblings, still so relieved to have an eighteen-years-younger-than-me baby in the house, still Catholic, still singing and playing guitar for God, still maintaining good grades in school, still very good friends with certain people I’ve known for five or ten or twelve years, still open to the possibility of a religious vocation, though still very much wanting to be a pro-Life wife and mother… still following my dreams.

I think that’s the most important thing I’ve learned from homeschooling. The things that you do have to be things that you want for yourself. Regardless of difficulties, you can’t do anything you’ll hate or hate yourself for. The career is just an aspect of life. The big picture is your constant-yet-ever-maturing vocation. And what it really does come down to in the end is what’s being taught in the home. No matter if you’re homeschooled or go to public or private school, what’s going on at home with your parents and siblings? Are they setting you up to follow your dreams? Are they helping and supporting you in choosing the major and career that you were created for? Is it about the money? The social status? Or is it about your unique God-given talents and ability to make the invisible God visible through your life?

Days 59, 60, and 61

Rant first or rant later? Eh.

I don’t think it would be wise to tell anyone that I actually liked the combination of white shirts and jeans. There’s just something about guys in white; Mom and I love Daddy and Nino in white. But apparently no one else liked it particularly; Yards was always saying it made him look like a cowboy. *shrug* At any rate, they’ve gone to black on black, and they’re all happy. And much as I did honestly appreciate the white, I can’t get over how fly black on black looks. I suppose, in retrospect, there were certain individuals that I preferred to see in specific black collared shirts. Why am I blogging about this…

I’ll put off the ranting for as long as I can. I’m not particularly angry now, just miffed, because I think I have a right to be.

Wednesday and yesterday were short; I basically went in to prep, and that was pretty much it. I missed some things on Wednesday which I received texts concerning hours later and which felt absolutely horrible about and I apologized for first thing on Thursday, said apologies were accepted most graciously and mildly on the whole; Ais then spent the first half of the night being thankful and telling Anna how absolutely horrible and pessimistic Ais was throughout all of all-day-Chem-Thursday and coming in to work, and then Jared being so awesome that Ais could cry.

Speaking of Chem, here I was at my station balancing equations and whatnot, and Adam comes over and looks over my shoulder for a bit and starts commenting. BOOM. Adam’s major makes itself known. Lol. So then he starts showing me all sorts of random stuff about half life and how you can predict how fast reactions will occur etc. etc. Clearly those are the things he is particularly excited about, because it was ridiculously beyond anything I’ve studied so far. It’s always so infectious and inspiring when what someone is passionate about is revealed unexpectedly.

Jason’s kid-at-Christmas face made a reappearance yesterday. Twice, actually, which was nice; it’s been a while. Oh, and goodness! I forgot to blog about Saturday… Jason had just said, “There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” and then we were packing up and getting ready to head out and I asked him to check if I’d put enough ice in the lexans because Jared had told me to put a sh*t-ton, and Jason comes out of the walk-in and says, “Well that was a stupid question… Dammit, I just told you there was no thing as a stupid question, didn’t I?!” “You deserved that.” “You planned it that way?” I just laughed.

Pax was officially, directly, deliberately, with-complete-sentences-ly established between Yards and myself on Thursday. He said he had had to start being nice anyway so that I would continue to cut apples and bread for him. And then Sam tossed some kosher salt at him and told him to not be salty. Oh, how I love these guys.

I told Yards about the Elektra fantasy. “I haven’t decided yet if you should be McCabe.” “Well, what does he do?” “He dies.” “You’re so nice, Aisa…”

Ricky Bobby’s starting at MCI on Wednesday, so of course Sam and I went into this whole get-this-teacher-and-don’t-get-this-teacher thing. I was heading down with proteins and I heard Sam say to Rob that I knew every person in the school and he didn’t know half the people I was talking about. Comes of working in Receiving.

Alright, I’ve put off the ranting long enough. Basically, Yards was talking about someone still breastfeeding a four year old being weird, and I came in with, “Actually…” because I did have something serious to say on the subject, but I didn’t get any farther, because that one word was taken and the joke was turned on me. I don’t really feel like outlining the entire situation here, but I was ranting to Matt when he was walking me out to the car, and he said I shouldn’t have taken it, and that I should’ve yelled at some people for picking on me just because I’m the girl in the kitchen. He didn’t seem to think that it had anything to do with the age difference. I got a, “You know we’re just joking, right, Ais?” and a “Sorry,” tossed out in passing, but I’m still miffed. Maybe the reason I’m not making friends is because I don’t particularly like people who are perfectly willing to take my silly sorries and other nonsense deliberately intended to elicit general amusement, but shut me up as soon as I actually have something of substance to contribute to a conversation.

And actually, Matt was joking about something the other week which I completely forget now, but I told him, “No. I get that enough from __.” Sam was at the window and saying I was in a kitchen full of guys and I should be used to it, and I told them both that, no, there are some things that I shouldn’t have to take. I don’t care if they’re just joking. Matt was gracious enough to acknowledge my point.

Well, off to end week 17 in a bit. Peace.