Week 4

Not much time to blog last week; I was working Kids’ Camp on top of everything else, and I basically came home to eat and sleep, since we were also open on Tuesday. Haven’t been to the Y at all and I refused to go yesterday morning. Which is bad.

More creme fraiche pancakes, and every time I see creme fraiche now, I think of Aaron and say it, “creem freesh,” just softly to myself, and smile. I think of my 3610 class often, and I was thrilled to run into Patrick on Friday and catch up a bit. Good times, good times.

I didn’t get to pickle the watermelon rind after all! I guess Chief did it. I was looking all over the walk-in for it, and then I found this little container of pickled watermelon rind. *sad face* And I was so looking forward to that.

Last week, we started quenelle-ing bean spread that was left over instead of butter, and we have now officially switched to bean spread. Perfectly delicious idea, I think. Plus, this quenelle-ing thing is tons of fun.

Tuesday and Wednesday were sort of a blur. I was out of sorts from the kids’ camp and definitely not performing anywhere near as well as I should have been. I know it and I’m not proud of it and I’m not going to try and make excuses that I was tired – bottom line, I pretty much sucked. That language is technically not allowed in this household, and Mother will not smile when she reads this =) but I was not happy and it’s the nicest way that I can describe how I did.

Thursday was, perhaps, slightly better; I did come up with my own amuse, ran it by Jason first and received about as much approval as I could hope for, along with suggestions, advice, general guidelines, and plenty of logic. I think I’ve established Jason as my preferred go-to, possibly mostly because of age – he was the baby of the kitchen before I came in – but I also suspect that I gravitated towards him when I found out his sort-of-connection to Stevo. Connections to Brad and Stevo are like homing beacons. Now I talk to one about the other and vice versa. Stevo tells me to watch out for Jason and Jason tells me about the time Stevo stabbed someone in Garde Manger. And if I say, “You’re the best,” the reply from both is, “I know.” See how this works? It’s all good. But I digress. It’s also partly because we’re in the same program. (I’ve been trying to wheedle out horror stories so that I can be prepared, but the most I’ve gotten out of him in that respect is their batch accidentally got taught Food Chem 3 before Food Chem 2. Ok?) I was excited for Advanced Asian before, but I’m ten times more excited now, simply because Jason’s enthusiasm concerning that class is terribly contagious. We’ve also discovered – through the identification of certain classmates – that I used to walk into his UC Bakeshop class all the time [and he never noticed]. We get around to talking about the most random food stuffs while working; I have to be careful, actually, as it’s rather distracting in a I’m-learning-so-much-and-I-could-listen-to-you-all-day way. But still. Less talk, more work, as Brad/Jay/Jared would say.

I text Bradley when these similarities/parallels come up. Brad says he’ll have to come in one day just to watch me exasperate Jared [and now Ricky Bobby, which I have yet to tell him about] and P&L and be like, “Been there, done that, and yes I had to deal with her like that, too.”

So I walked in yesterday and found a shirt and pants and shoes on my station. Not cool. The culprit argued that the shoes were on top of the clothes and not actually on my board, but I am still exasperated.

Speaking of which, I’ve been reprimanded for using… well, “reprimanded,” “exasperated,” and “precarious.” Basically, I apologized to Ricky Bobby for exasperating him, to which he replied, “I don’t even know what that means.” I honestly thought he was joking, as I guess my reply was indicative of disbelief and only exasperated him further. Steve came up (yeah, a new acquaintance, another Steve – I know wayyyy too many Steves in this industry) and Ricky Bobby asked him if he knew what it meant, and he said no, and Ricky Bobby’s like, “See!” and then demanded a definition. When I included “annoy” in the definition, he stopped me with, “There! Why couldn’t you just say ‘annoy’ and I would’ve understood what you were saying.” I tried to explain that exasperated was not merely to annoy, but… anyway.

That wasn’t the end of it. Apparently, Steve went back downstairs and told Jason to come upstairs and say, “Gosh, I’m so exasperated!” just to mess with me. Jason came up and said, “I’m so asperated… F-, I forgot the word!” Steve had come up behind him and started berating him for it, I followed them both downstairs and Ricky Bobby came down as well, and the four of us were down there, the three of them ganging up on me for “using big words,” when Zach came down.

Jared was out on Friday/yesterday, and Zach made another unexpected reappearance. I suppose it shouldn’t have been unexpected at all – makes perfect sense and all that – don’t know why I would have assumed anything otherwise. So Zach comes down and finds the four of us there, arguing, and he’s like, “Party in the basement?” I asked if he thought I ought to be reprimanded for using “exasperate.” He said no. I can’t remember why, but I used “precarious” a few minutes later. Steve professed unfamiliarity with the word, Jason made a decent guess at it, and Zach came in and [just to mess with them, I would assume] used precarious and precocious in the same sentence. (Actually… I’m still kinda wondering if he meant to use precocious or if he really meant procacious [which wordpress does not recognize as a word, but then it doesn’t recognize “wordpress” as a word either].) Still, it was terribly nice to get some backup… !!!

My phone wasn’t getting any signal on Friday, so I asked Chris to text Dad to let him know that I’d gotten to work ok and such. I can’t remember why I was explaining to Zach, but I did, and he said it would be funny to text Dad, “I have your daughter. Ransom’s $10,000.” I… yeah….

Having Jason and Zach and Chris in the same place is a guarantee of endless amusement. Granted Chris only talks to me to tell me to cut more bread because he wants bread, but that’s ok. It’s watching him interact with everyone else – specifically Zach – that is terribly enjoyable. Except sometimes I can’t tell Chris’ voice from Jared’s. I noticed it this weekend. I was subconsciously wondering why on earth I was suddenly hearing Jared and how that was even possible… and then I realized it was Chris.

You have to draw the line somewhere. Chris called Kayla “doll” and I suppose she’s used to it and didn’t mind and you can’t do for a body what a body won’t do for his/herself, but I couldn’t let it slide. I just couldn’t. I object to girls being objectified, and I’m going to say so. “Girls aren’t toys, Chris!” to which he had no reply.

Ah! Jason showed Sam the fourth floor and apparently that was the first time he’d been up there himself. Oh, I guess I was mean yesterday. I told Zach I was kinda glad Sam wasn’t there for once. To his inquiry as to why, I replied, “Because I’m always so tempted to tell him to pull his freaking pants up.”

I told Mother I had a funny story, and that bad words were in it, but that she had to be able to appreciate it on Lola’s behalf. I think she did. Zach spotted something in the first walk-in and asked if it was my flan. I said no and added that I hadn’t been told to make any.

Jason: B@$t@rd$.
Zach: I concur.
(me: Hmm?)

Mmm, on Friday Zach was trying to insult me, and then on Saturday he was trying to kill me. Quite the deadly progression here.

It began with an inquiry which implied that I trained in taekwando. (Side note: Talking to Zach is so much like talking to Trip sometimes. We go into these entirely-nonsensical-with-perfectly-straight-faces phases here and there.) Totally not cool, man. I took offense, and confirmed that he did understand why – Jason asked and Zach did most of the explaining – but then for the rest of the night, it became this thing where Zach would reiterate the aforementioned implication and I would do my absolute best to look murderous until he took it back/corrected himself. Then, yesterday, Ricky Bobby had a plate of cheese sticks on his station and I wondered aloud what that was for, to which he replied, “None for you, Aisa,” which I took literally and without question. That is, until he was ok with everyone else eating as much as they liked. The point is, Zach spent the rest of the night recommending and encouraging me to eat things that are bad for me.

Yesterday Matt asked if I was a ninja and I retorted that ninjas have no honor. He didn’t get it. I guess most people wouldn’t. I’m obviously the odd one out, thinking that everyone should know the origin of the ninja and the definition of words like “exasperate.”

Soooooo…. I’ve a story that I need to tell Stevo asap, but I have no idea when I’ll see him again and I’m debating whether or not to call him up about it. We were talking food – not surprising, right – and Zach said he’d try anything except for balut. I said he couldn’t knock it until he’d tried it. (And then he used that line against me several times in the course of the night over a great many other things. *fail*) Then he made an offer – if I tried dip, he’d try balut, and he swore on his knife. I was all for it until I actually understood what it was that he was trying to get me to do. In retrospect, I vaguely remember running into this strange substance before, when and where and why eludes me completely, but it’s in the back of my brain for some reason. I did have to google it to coax out and confirm those memories. The point is, I have to tell Stevo… because everytime we’re out for a sidebar, he still offers, and I always say something along the lines of, “It’s been over a year and you’re still trying to get me to take one?” Silly Stevo. Silly Zach. But then I suppose Stevo would have reason to know better and Zach wouldn’t yet.

*sigh* Matt passed by my station, I was drinking out of a pitcher and…

Matt: So, there are these great inventions called cups, you know?
me: But… all the guys use pitchers!
Matt: You’re not one of the guys.
me: What?! Oh please.
Matt: Do you want to be one of the guys?

How does one explain succinctly that I am “one of the guys” and have been accustomed to being treated as one for almost seven years now? Oh, I guess just like that. But I didn’t have the presence of mind to articulate myself properly in that moment.

Ok, I was wearing cutoffs on Friday, but I wasn’t yesterday; it was just a sleeveless shirt, my Seven Sorrows shirt. Still, the remarks which my choice of wardrobe elicited has led me to believe that Zach would get along wonderfully with my Chicago bros and their guns that are still WANTED in Cincinnati. As long as they’re merely amused and not offended at his mutilation of “bagsakan” and his claim that the first 10 seconds sound like yankee doodle.

I’ve taken to hanging out over at Garde, a) for the excellent company, and b) to escape Doug’s random pointing fingers and fists at me and attempting absolutely pathetic-looking crane stances and trying to get me to sing.

And since we’re on the subject, I was singing to myself, as usual, during prep. Jason decided to come line liner plates next to me (and being such a guy, put all the doilies upside-down) and Zach went to the restroom. I came to a pause and Jason interjected that they needed to get me a microphone. “Why?” “So that everyone can hear you singing through service.” “No!” “Why not?” “Bad idea.” “Why?” “Because I’ll be stopping every five seconds to tell Doug to go away!” I go back to singing. I get to the chorus and Zach comes out of the restroom and starts to sing along with the line I began… about seven seconds too late. “I was trying to come in at the right time.” I was singing TSwift because it was stuck in my head, so I guess we’ve now also established that Zach would get along excellently with Matt and Gabe as well. I switched to Jay Sean and Jason started beatboxing, but only for a few measures, and I stopped singing soon after he stopped beatboxing because I honestly felt that I couldn’t keep singing Down if he didn’t keep beatboxing. Jason said it didn’t sound any different, though, and I subsequently went with another song.

Dude man! Switchfoot. ‘Nuff said. Had to tell Josh I found someone who likes Switchfoot in the last place I’d think to look.

Ricky Bobby and Jason and Steve and Zach had a perfectly captivating discussion regarding history and politics. I had so much fun just listening.

When you’re instructed to eat leftover moscato granita [with creme fraiche cream], you don’t argue. It’s the best thing ever since limoncello and strawberries, dude. That’s saying something.

Wow, this is my longest post on work yet! But it was entirely necessary, since I was supposed to be blogging about five days instead of just four. And I’ve still got plenty to tell! But there isn’t time now because I’m SLEEPY.



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