272022

What did I learn my first week at school?

-I hate perspective drawing. Looks like G1 Drawing & Perspective is gonna suck for me.

-When you're 18, it's okay to have an 8am breakfast of Hawaiian Punch and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Am I old?

-Artists can teach, but they may not be teachers. My syllabuses are riddled with spelling and grammatical errors. Good lord.

-6:30am isn't the hard part. Noon is the hard part. Well, closing at the bar that night is the hard part.

-All graphite pencils are not created equal. Furthermore, all erasers are not created equal, and also completely suck, depending on the graphite pencil used. This shit better come in handy someday.

-I have absolutely zero interest in making friends with my classmates. ZERO.

-Easy way to spice up a boring project? Add a pop culture reference.

School is going quite well, thanks for asking.

Babes.

3:45 am.

Cold meatball sub, delivered an hour and a half ago. American Spirit Ultra-Light, bummed from a boss for the price of an over-zealous errand and light physical/verbal abuse. A long ride home with my new male counterparts.

Bartending is a boys' club. I fit in pretty well.

I Have a New Job.

I have a new job -

both my Bosses love me.

They buy me drinks after work and have a desire to pinch my cheeks.

They teach me because they want me to learn and care

and in turn, they make me want to learn and care.

I strive to do my best because

both my Bosses love me.

I have a new job -

I'm actually making Money.

I work long hours

I lift heavy objects

I get down and dirty with the dishwasher

I work hard for it because

I'm actually making Money.

I have a new job -

I have a new Disposition.

I no longer feel a heavy oppression poisoning my extracurriculars

I have a light and happy heart

I smile. A lot.

Spring feels springier because

I have a new Disposition.

The moral of this poem is

be nice to every single person you've ever met

in your entire life

because sometime

maybe even three years later

they may offer you a job that

you never

ever

ever

EVER

would have gotten on your own.

2011 - the year I make desserts.

I've only made two so far this year -- one success, one... less than success.

The first, a chocolate mousse, care of Julia Child.


The boyfriend came over to dinner a few weeks ago. I made an excellent coq au vin, which I affectionately refer to as Purple Chicken. Quite good, chicken with bacon, mushrooms, assorted aromatic veggies, and a sauce made from red wine. I made the chocolate mousse for dessert, which was fucking great. I used rum, espresso, and the wife's vanilla sugar, and it was, for lack of a more accurate descriptor, perfect. I didn't get an "after" picture, as it would only consist of two adorable people shoving puffy chocolate into their mouths at top speed.

The second, a raspberry soufflé, from the Good Housekeeping cookbook.

I was cooking for said boyfriend again last night, made a pretty good pasta dish with bacon (see a theme?) and peas and onions and a bunch of cheese. I was going to make the soufflé for dessert, but we ended up having brie for a starter and were pretty wrapped up in a Dexter marathon, so I decided to make it upon arriving home this afternoon.

The process began with a mild egg white/yolk separation issue, but I recovered well, until I realized that we don't have a soufflé dish. I put it in a bread pan, hoping for the best. However, when the timer buzzed, I pulled this from the oven:


What the fuck is that? A thousand gross zombie and flesh analogies come to mind, but they're too gross to verbalize. The bottom line is that my soufflé fell and it looks gross. I tried a bit of it, and while it's quite tasty, I am finding it difficult to want to continue eating it.

So one success, one not-so-success. The second does not deter me from further attempts, as I want to keep trying this out. Fear not, faithful friends, I have a solid workout routine to combat the increased sugar intake that this project is sure to include. (If the pictures are as gross as that last one, I won't post them. Probably.)

Empire Builder, Part II.

I woke up somewhere just outside of Hastings, right at the Minnesota version of the Bermuda Triangle where there is no phone service. I stared out the window, trying to figure out how long I'd been asleep. The dark trees stood out against the winter sky, tinged with a reddish glow of 10pm. The snow seemed like an ocean, encompassing everything around it, and the rare street lamp seemed to be surrounded by a gauzy haze. It was like a movie, a fairytale. Peaceful, serene, and sweet.

I was jolted from this storybook by a sharp lurch forward. Groggy and one foot still in the reverie, I was sure we had gone over a bump or something normal. I leaned back against my seat again, breathing deeply, concentrating on the string of street lamps that illuminated the darkness far off against the highway.

I was physically thrown forward by another jolt, as if kicked from behind. I glanced around at my fellow passengers for recognition, a sign that they were all as confused as I was by the sudden change in atmosphere. To my surprise, nobody seemed to notice, or if they noticed, they didn't care. I furrowed my brow, upset by the sharp and physical reminder that I was taking public transportation.

The third jolt was as if I'd been punched in the back of the head. At this point I had deduced that it was not, in fact, nature that was causing my uncomfortability. I sat straight up and turned around, staring into the large brown eyes of a small child. He giggled, flashing a horrific set of baby teeth at me. I looked to his legal guardian sleeping soundly next to him. Mouth agape, Oblivious Mother was snoring in such a way that indicated that she was mentally thousands of miles away from her terror of a kid. I gave him my professionally practiced Stink Eye and sat back into my seat. That look was surely that of children's nightmares - Scary Twentysomething on Amtrak Frightens Child with Just One Stare. I was satisfied with my retaliation.

The fourth jolt was just uncalled for, and vindictive, if you ask me. I turned back around, stared into the mischevious eyes and said very plainly, "Stop it. Stop it right now."

A quick snort from Oblivious Mother and she was immediately completely functional. "I'm sorry," she snapped, the fire of a dozen dragons in her breath, "what makes you think you can talk to him that way?" She cradled her nightmare of a misbehaved child into her body, as if I had physically attacked her spawn. Mama Bear woke up and she was pissed.

I stuttered for a second. I wasn't sure how to talk to Momzilla. If I had rationally explained the situation, chances were good that I would be the only one to see reason. The cheese would surely stand alone, because it was me versus her stupid kid.

I did the only thing I could think of to do - I apologized profusely for my rudeness. How dare I speak to your child!! How dare I think that I could even glance upon his face?? Oh, my dearest, most sincere of apologies, ma'am. I see the error of my ways and will forever be changed by this experience.

I sat back in a huff and stared down the child's reflection in the window. He knew better than to do it a fifth time, but I'm really not sure why. Was he scared of the crazy lady's overacting and sugary sweet apologies? Maybe I did the kid a favor. Be scared of phonies, young boy. And don't touch people on trains.

Empire Builder

I am on the train right now.

I wouldn't necessarily call myself a frequent passenger of the Amtrak, but I've taken it about a dozen times, which is about eleven times more than the majority of people that I know.

I've been contemplating my train circumstances for slightly over two hours now. Is this a good mode of transportation? Is it a well-kept secret in the twentysomething company I keep? Or is it just a very large vehicle filled with smelly people who talk loudly on their cell phones?

I know. I'll make a pros/cons list.

-PRO: it's incredibly easy to travel long distances alone.
-CON: it's easy for anyone to do. This includes my two least favorite demographics - large families with small children and the elderly.
-PRO: the trips are usually quite scenic. Right now, for example, it's a beautiful scene of snow-covered trees and quaint homes. It's like one of those paintings. By that guy.
-CON: I'm freezing.
-PRO: there is absolutely no hassle of waiting in line for security.
-CON: there is no security. At all. None.
-PRO: the stops are frequent enough that you can ride to a fair amount of places, but not too many that it slows the trip or make it annoying.
-CON: Wisconsin Dells is a stop, attracting Unwanted Demographic #1. At least it's winter.
-PRO: fairly cost-efficient. My ticket cost $24.
-CON: it's about the same amount of money as filling someone's tank and having them drive you there. And it takes about the same amount of time.

In truth, the pros really do outweigh the cons. If you're looking for the romanticized slice of Americana that old literature and folk songs promise, this ain't it. In reality it's literally just another way to travel. It's much more comfortable than an airplane, but it's less businessmen and more average joes. I feel very middle class when on a train but it gets it done. And really, whatever lets me just get away.

This stream-of-consciousness post brought to you by three hours of sleep and shitty instant coffee.

(I think the guy behind me has a serious medical issue. His snoring is deeply concerning.)