Aww, Shucks! Listening: Now you hear, now I know just where I’m going. No more doubt of fear. I’ve found my way. For love came just in time. You’ve found me just in time and changed my lonely nights.
Today was my first night working at Chez Henri. It was nerve racking getting there. Work ended late and I hadn't eaten much all day due to poor timing on my part. I had to stop at a convenient store in Harvard Square just to pick up an Odwalla Bar and a Red Bull. I felt like a hack and a hypocrite surviving on that kind of food on the way to a job that requires me to make artful, mostly healthy cuisine.
I got to Chez Henri at around a quarter to seven. Bob was there. I asked him what was up and he said that he wasn't sure what kind of business they would have tonight, so it was up to me what I wanted to do. I told him that I would stick around for a bit, you know, have a kitchen tour and figure it out in a bit. I would see how things went and if it was just standing around waiting for tickets to show up that wouldn't show up, then I would bounce. He said cool, outfitted me with a chef's coat and apron.
After I was dressed and set, Bob introduced me to everyone; Chef Paul O'Connell, Israel (the saucier), and Justin, the guy who would show me the ropes. Justin was a hell of a guy. He reminds me a little bit of a guy I worked with at the Corporation. He was tall and skinny. He had dark hair and a scruffy kind of look. His voice reminded me of the brother on "Everybody Loves Raymond." But man, this guy was awesome. He showed me everything and explained everything. Though he mumbled a bit at times, we had a good time. He let me taste everything.
Together, we worked the Garde Manager station that took care of all of the bar menu food, including pressed, grilled Cuban sandwiches, grilled chorizo on scallion mashed potatoes, Cuban style empanadas, tuna "Pincho," onion soup gratine, and oysters on the half shell, a few appetizers from the dining room like the beef carpaccio, Galantine of duck, the bistro salad and the green salad, and all of the desserts including Proliferoles Ole, cafe au lait creme brulee, chocolate caramel bread pudding, almond merengue torte and the sorbet plate. I learned how to put together (notice, I didn't say cook) all of these dishes today.
At first, I stood there, doing my best not to be in the way with my hands clasped in front of me. I felt vastly out of place and I just listened and watched. Luckily, earlier in the night, there wasn't an incredible amount to do. So, Justin walked me through the placement of everything and why he placed everything there. The mise en place (a.k.a. meez) that he had set up had a precision to it, a reason for each placement. The kitchen wasn't nearly as clean and as sterile as I thought that it might be. But it certainly wasn't sloppy or a mess. There was a reason for everything. Efficiency was at its best. Ahh. Something that I don't see at the Corporation.
From the time I got there until eight o'clock, one or two orders trickled in, but because he kept showing me stuff relating to the setup and what things were used for, the time kind of flew. At eight, it picked up. I was still in the dark and tickets kept popping in the printer. He was getting kind of in the weeds until Israel came over and helped us out. About fifteen into being in the weeds, Israel had to go back to the saucier station and I picked up the slack. I started plating and throwing things into ovens, covering things with cheese and so on and so forth. One of the first things that I did that night, though was shucking oysters. I had never done it before. I heard things about it being dangerous, and that it you could nearly run your hand through, but Justin showed me the way to pry them open. At first, I was having a lot of trouble. Paul actually came over and told me not to hurt myself and demonstrated again. By the end of the night, I was reasonable able to shuck twelve oysters in about five minutes. I think my first round, I did six in ten. Yeah, I improved a lot.
The three dishes that I made the most over the course of the night were the Cuban sandwiches, the onion soup and the oysters. By the end of the night, I could put together all of those items and had them look presentable enough to be taken to a paying customer. The Cuban sandwich came with dressed greens, plantain chips and salsa. The sandwich was cut diagonally in half (but not too steeply) and leaned up against the chips and greens. The onion soup was ladled into the bowls and a crouton was dropped on top. A generous portion of cheese was heaped on top and it was sprinkled with parsley before being sent into the oven for seven to ten minutes. The oysters were shucked, and set on top of ice with two lemon wedges and a dressing of some sort, which I didn't get a chance to taste.
Oh man, it was so much fun. I really felt that I learned a lot and that I helped a lot as well. It's not to say that they couldn't have gotten along without me, but jammin' in that kitchen made me feel alive. I have five more days before I can get back in there. I was producing something that someone else was enjoying. I didn't need to see their face. I saw my plates leave beautifully and come back demolished. Fantastic.
There was one thing that I learned today that I really loved though. I learned how to reheat leftover or cold mashed potatoes. What you do is you get an oven safe pan. You put the cold mashed potatoes in it and squish them out so they take up as much surface area as possible. You pour a little bit of whole milk over them and shove them in a three hundred and fifty degree oven for ten minutes or so. When you pull them out, mix it around with a spoon and you'll have perfectly good mashed potatoes. It was GENIUS!
Another thing that I learned was that you should always season your greens/salads with salt and pepper.
Anyways, it's late and I've had a long, long day. It's time for me to go to sleep. I'll dream of my own meez, putting together beautiful food for people to enjoy. *sigh* I can't believe I waited so long to get into this.
What Makes It Worth Anything? Listening: I guess if someone doesn't love you back it isn't such a crime, but there's a fine, fine line between love and a waste of your time.
I didn't end up working at Chez Henri today, because of the snow. When I got there, the dining room was empty and Bob told me that it wasn't worth my time to be there today, because they didn't anticipate many, if any customers that night. I did, however, get to go in through the kitchen door. It made me feel special. *sniffle* I am going back tomorrow. Hopefully there will be work for me to do. And hopefully, the cut on my thumb will stop hurting.
So, I was talking to a friend of mine and she said to me, "You're just too nice in all of the wrong ways." She then proceeded to tell me, "You know, you should make the first move. You'd be surprised how many girls wouldn't stop you if you made the first move." That last thought really struck a chord with me when I thought about it. What does that mean? Why wouldn't they stop you?
The funny thing was that this theme was actually brought up on Friday night at Avalon by one friend, and then completely independently another friend mentioned it to me while at the Beer Summit and at home. See, I always seem to see girls. They will visually pique my interest and I'll be like, 'Oh, she's cute" or "Damn, she's hot." But there are very few that I talk to. If they're connected to me somehow, I'll talk. But sometimes, when I think a girl is exceptionally hot, I'll clam up. It doesn't even matter if we have tons in common, I'll inevitably feel like a complete idiot talking to her. I turn into a useless heap of nothing. I take awkward stabs at killing awkward silences.
There was a girl at Beer Summit that I thought was really cute. Photogenic thought she looked like a shorter, chubbier (though she wasn't chubby at all from what I was looking at) Rebecca Romjin Stamos. I totally wanted to ask the girl for her digits, but I totally lost it and lost an opportunity. I'm hoping that I see her at the volunteer party, because I'm sick of it. I'm gonna try to go a little balls out. I'll say that I really wanted to get her number at Beer Summit, but I couldn't find the right opportunity, so I'd just ask for it then. Yeah. That's what I'll do.
Anyways, back to the idea at the root of all of these things. When my friend said that I would be surprise how many girls wouldn't stop me if I made the first move, I was kind of taken aback. And then I thought about it. Well, does that mean that I would win over their apathy? If they weren't really digging me, and they just sort of went along with it, what would that mean? Would it mean that I would get my rocks off in someone who was just lukewarm? How insulting is that? I mean, really? If I want to kiss a girl, I want her to want to kiss me just as bad. And I think that's the rub for me. I haven't found that many women who do.
I have been told by many people who have seen many different stages of my life that I have just gotten the shaft when it comes to women, and not in the good way. I have dated a lot of people who weren't honest with me or who were apathetic. I have tried to get with a lot of women who have given me the stiff arm. So generally, I have made some rather bad or unlucky choices, which have shaped the world that I live in. It has shaped how I look at love and how I look at dating. It has given my idealistic outlook a bitter and cynical coating like the rind of a cheese.
So, when I think of that idea, I really don't want a girl to let me kiss them. I don't. I want them to want to kiss me. I won't want to make the first move. I don't want her to make the first move. I want us to take the first steps. Idealistic? Yeah. but really, who else would want it any other way?
Step One: Get Out Of The House Listening: Gotta find out. Don’t wanna wait. Got to make sure that my life will be great. Gotta find my purpose before it’s too late.
Weekend. Wow. It was kind of crazy. I guess it all started when I bolted out of work on Friday afternoon. I left the office at about a quarter past five and was at Chez Henri at exactly six o'clock. I called the restaurant when I left the office and Chef O'Connell wasn't there. It was a bit disappointing, but I met with Bob instead. It seems as if Chef O'Connell is the executive chef/owner. Bob is the Chef de Cuisine and Bob had no clue that I would be coming by. I'm not really sure, but it seems like Chef O'Connell is either really busy or he doesn't know how to schedule.
Anyways, I sat down with Bob and explained everything to him. I told him about my e-mailing back and forth about meeting and about my desire to get into the kitchen. After throwing him my schpiel, Bob told me that he was well staffed in the kitchen and that he really doesn't have any positions to hire for. That's when I said it. "I can appreciate that, Bob, but I'm not looking to get paid. I'm looking to get into the kitchen to get some experience." So, he said, "Well, you could come hang around the kitchen if you want." And that's where it began. By the end of the fifteen minute conversation, I was slated to begin on Monday. I'll be working Mondays and probably Tuesdays helping the guy do a lot of the stuff on the bar menu and the dessert plating. It's going to be great. He understands that I don't get out of work until six, which I know could be a real inconvenience. So I can just go in at half past six, he'll hook me up with a chef's coat and apron and I'll watch and learn. It's gonna be so awesome.
On my way home from Chez Henri, I stopped by the local liquor store and bought a bottle of one of my favorite wines; the Trimbach Gewurztraminer. It's so yummy. So I chilled it for a half hour and drank wine and ate Wheat Thins and Boursin cheese. It was the beginning of a fantastic evening.
A week or so ago, Special K started talking about Derrick Carter coming to Avalon to spin. So I made plans with him and Sweet Scent to go see Derrick Carter. On Thursday, there started to be plans being made by The Violent One and Photogenic to have some people over for dinner and to watch a movie. With the bitter cold and wind, I really wanted to stay, watch the movie and order take out, but I told Special K that I would go and he would go see Derrick Carter spin if molten lava enveloped the whole Kenmore Sqaure area.
So I met Special K and Sweet Scent at The Cambridge Common for a late dinner of burgers, beers and fries and headed off to the club. It was bitter fuckin' cold outside that night. I thought for sure the wind was ripping layers of my skin off of my face. The wind even felt like it whipped through my clothing and froze my nipples off. When Sweet Scent took her coat off at the club, you could tell hers were still there though. We were all dressed pretty moderately. No flashy club clothing, nothing. I didn't even wear my UFOs. I wore my dragon tux shirt, a t-shirt, a pair of jeans and my boots. Nothing fancy. We weren't really there to dance, but more just to groove... and drink so it happened.
That night we did a couple of rounds of shots. It really wasn't all that much for me and Special K, but it ended up hitting Sweet Scent pretty hard at the end of the night. We were getting our coats, and Special K and I started joking around about something racial. Sweet Scent got irate. It was CRAAAAAAAAAZY. She got so pissed at us that as we were walking to the car, she started walking way ahead of us. When we caught up to her, she was climbing into a cab, trying to leave us behind. Fortunately for all of us, we got her out, because she had the keys to Special K's whip in her bag. It was pretty freakin' crazy.
Despite the littel bit at the end of the night, it was a good night. Derrick Carter spun a pretty good set and I was really groovin' on it. He played a mix of Maroon 5's "This Love," which wasn't bad. It was kind of fun, because I knew all of the words and I had felt all of those words before.
Saturday, I spent all day at the Beer Summit's Winter Jubilee. Photogenic and Digital Dewi were there as well, along with a number of other friends of mine. It's great going to those events. See, once you're in, it's like family. We get together a couple of times a year, have a good time and some laughs, pour some beers and chill out. It's just a good time. This one wasn't nearly as good as the other Beer Summit events that I have worked. I don't care for a lot of the barleywines and double and triple bocks, which made the drinking experience much less enjoyable. I did, however, find a beer that I liked. It was called Kriek de Ranke, and it tasted like sour cherries. It was the best thing that I had all day long. I'm sure that it was expensive, because it came in large champagn sized bottles and was covered in a white crepe paper.
The crowd was a little bit crazy this time. There was stuff that was advertised on the website that was changed and the food situation was just messed up. There was appetizer kinds of finger foods being brought in plate by plate and were pounced upon entering the room, so the people in the middle and at the back of the room didn't get anything to eat. It was to the point that some of the volunteers and I had to form a human shield just to get the servers to the other side of the room.
I think the mess of the evening came at the end. We had known all day that there was a big snow storm looming on the horizon. There was a parking ban scheduled for four in the afternoon. At around eight in the evening, Menino called it. He declared Boston at a state of emergency. So, we ended shooing people out about an hour before we had scheduled to. Hell started breaking loose after that. The public coat room was a mess and people ended up taking other people's jackets. A friend of mine ended up losing a two hundred dollar shell and a fifty dollar pair of gloves. Luckily he did find the fleece liner to it, so he wasn't out a full five hundie. There was one table of vendors who didn't stop serving people. They had people leaned up doing kegstands and pouring large shots of Triple Eight vodka. It was a mess. It was an absolute mess.
Clean up, however, wasn't that bad. It was actually pretty easy as far as clean ups go. We were out of there in no time. What was ridiculous was that on my way to my friend's Jeep Wrangler, I stepped into the snow and it was already at five or six inches. When I got back from the dinner break, it was probably around an inch or an inch and a half. The accumulation was sick.
So, anyways, I got a ride home from a friend of mine. The roads were empty besides a few other suicidal folks like us. We saw a guy stuck in the snow (meaning him personally, not him in his car) who was being helped up by a couple of good sumaritans. I think he was trying to get from the curb to the bus when he got stuck in a snowbank. The visibilty was low and it was just coming down. By the time I got home, I think another inch or so had accumulated.
This morning, I woke up and The Violent One had just come in from outside. Apparently, we lived in Hoth. There was a wall of snow just outside the awning over our basment entry door. We could get out, but we couldn't go anywhere. So I resigned myself to that and went back to sleep for a couple more hours. I did, however, make the most of my day today. I did laundry. That's productive, right? At about half past four, Photogenic decided that she was going to shovel a path. I didn't even know that she had gone out, but she did. She got about halfway and decided that she was tired. So, I picked up the mantle and finished the job. Actually, she might have shoveled two thirds of the way.
At around half past five she and Whisper decided to go to the grocery store, so I sent her with a list of ingredients for clam chowder. Yeah, baby! We ate clam chowder as we watched the Patriots demolish the Steelers. I really considered on betting against the Pats, just because I thought that their time was up, but with the weather as cold as it was, they really couldn't have lost.
So, that was my weekend. Oh yeah, I did happen to slice my thumb while chopping up some onions. I guess I'm still getting used to my new knife. It's sharp as hell and I have the war wound to prove it. But, that's it for now. Hopefully when I get home from Chez Henri tomorrow, I'll have more fun stuff to share and the energy to bang out an entry to share it with.
What's That Breathing Down My Neck? Listening: Tom, get your plane right on time. I know you’ve been eager to fly now. Hey, let your honesty shine, shine, shine.
Pressure, pressure, pressure. It's all there and it's all building. Over the past week, I've been doing everything and nothing all in the same breath. Work has been incredibly slow, so I have been doing some calling and some e-mailing about culinary schools and the internship. For starters, tomorrow, Friday, I should be meeting with Chef Paul O'Connell. We set up a tentative time of six in the evening. I have to call Chez Henri before I go over, just to make sure that he's there. I really didn't think that he would go for the whole Friday evening meeting thing. I figured that the weekend dinner date rush thing would have probably preemptively nixed my meeting, but we'll just have to wait and see. I'm extraordinarily nervous. I wasn't nearly as nervous the last time that we were supposed to meet. I can feel it today though. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. I'm not entirely sure sure what I'd do if he turned down the offer that he can't refuse. I have a feeling that I would be crushed for a few days and then I would really start to pester Tony Maws. If that fell through then I would go after Ian W. Just of Les Zygomates. Let's hope that we don't have to do that, okay?
Today at work, I got a call from The French Culinary Institute in New York City. They were just following up on the admissions materials that they had sent me in the mail and Claudia (the admissions officer at FCI) and I ended up talking for a good half hour. She answered a bunch of my questions and I answered a bunch of hers. It was really productive time. She seemed really nice, but she did, however drop a bomb on me. It seems that their September class has already filled out and that they are now accepting applications for the November start date. By the time that I was planning on applying, in March, they would be well into their January and February start dates. That doesn't make me happy. That doesn't make me happy at all.
Since I got the materials on The French Culinary Institute, I have been tearing myself to shreds. Up until I got those materials, I thought, for sure, that I would be going to the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco. I thought that it was the right program for me, the right location for me and that it would be the perfect place to start a new life. When I read the FCI materials, I was floored. It was so much better taylored to what I wanted. Not only is there a culinary arts program and a restaurant management program (and a pastry program and an international bread program), but they offer a food writing course. FCI and CCA are completely different programs as well. CCA is a two year long program. FCI is a mere six months. I realize that it sounds like the differences in length could make a lot of difference, but I'm not sure. Claudia explained to me that they do all of the teaching in the kitchen. You don't choose what courses you take. You do the program. Whereas at the CCA, you have your basic classes as well as electives, kind of like a normal college. I could probably pass out of some courses. There would be the kitchen hours, the classroom hours, and the externship time as well making up the two years. I would also get an Associates degree out of that. FCI removes the manditory externship, takes out the classroom, and all of the learning is done in the kitchen. At first I was skeptical. But after talking to the woman, some (not all) of my reservations melted away. I thought about the staff that they have on hand with Jaques Pepin as the Dean of Special Programs and Alice Waters as the Dean of Organic and Sustainable Agricultural Studies. How can people of this caliber let you down? Jaques Pepin has a name as big as Julia Child's. He's been on TV for almost as long. Alice Waters is the head of the Slow Food movement in the United States.
So I need to decide soon if I am going to apply to FCI or CCA, or apply to both and lose the application fee of one of those schools. The application fee for each are about a hundred bones and with each application I also have to lay down a four hundred dollar refundable deposit to hold my spot. That's a G out of my pocket to apply to schools all at one time, and I'd only get four hundred back. That's a lot of scratch for me right now.
I've spent a lot of time on Craigslist and on Yahoo! Maps checking out the costs of apartments and distances to the schools for both, and I haven't come up with a winner that way either. I think that if I went to CCA, I would try my best to live near Union Square. It's close to the school and it's right in the middle of town. The school is right by the Civic Center, so it would be really convenient. Rents around there look like it's about seven fifty to share a place with someone. CCA offers housing, but I think I'm kind of done with dorms. And in addition, they looked like they were kind of pricey. If I were to go to FCI, I would try to live in Chinatown or somewhere along those lines. I talked to Shaft on the phone today when I started wigging about FCI. I picked his brains about apartments and living in NYC. He said that his friend got a one bedroom on Canal for eight hundred. He said it was right near Chinatown, and the only bad thing about it was that Canal Street is always busy. I could deal with that. I could deal with the noise. I don't know, though. This is all a huge move.
So, both CCA and FCI have their bonuses and drawbacks. CCA's bonuses is that it's on the west coast and I would walk out with an associate's degree. CCA's drawbacks are that it is a full two year program and that I would actually have to find a way to move to San Francisco. FCI's bonuses is that it's a shorter program, deans and alumni whose name I recognize, and a program that has a food writing class. FCI's drawback are that it's in NYC, it's still on the east coast, and I won't know if the shorter program will mean that the content will be abbreviated in comparison to CCA.
Money? Well, this is all me. I'm not going to get help from anyone to pay for this. I'm doing it all myself. I'm taking out the loans and I am agreeing to be a slave to these loans for as long as they last. Which program is more expensive doesn't concern me, by which I mean that I will pay for whichever program I feel will prepare me better and whichever program I feel will give me the best leg up over my competition for jobs and investors.
Good god! This has been on my mind so much lately. It's almost all that I have been thinking about lately. I think that the only other thing that I have been thinking about is taking the senior positon at work. See, by the end of next month, my manager and I will be the only people left in my group from June. One person was fired. Three jumped ship. And three people are moving elsewhere in the Corporation. Between my manager and the other manager under the account manager, there will be only three people out of twelve, not including managers who have been in the two groups since before June. It's sick as hell. But, I figure that I might as well throw my name into the hat. What do I have to lose? Nothing. What do I have to gain? A little bit more money in each paycheck. Why not? What's the worst that could happen?
Anyways, it's late. I need to get some sleep so that I can go to Chez Henri to rock Chef Paul O'Connell like a fuckin' hurricane! Wish me luck, y'all. I'll need it. And I'd appreciate any advice that anyone has on which program I should choose. I think that I need to go down to NYC to check out FCI before I rule it out. *sigh* I just need a sign! We already went through this when choosing colleges. Now, how do I not make the wrong choice again?
A Pleasant Weekend Listening: *The sounds of Wynton Marsalis & The Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra*
It seems like everyone is getting married or engaged. It's really quite disturbing. Well, it's not disturbing in an "oh my god I want to get carted off to the nut bin" kind of way, but definitely disturbing in the "what the fuck is happening and what am I doing wrong with my life" kind of way. Well, I don't really mean that either. I think that I would have really meant that a couple of months ago. Now that I have figured out a few things, I think I'm much less concerned about me. I got other shit going down, enough shit for me to not want to be thinking about marriage at any time in the near future. The fact is that a number of my friends are getting married. I went to Shutterbug and Saucy's engagement party on Friday night. Last week, a friend of mine from college who works at the Corporation as well came down to my cube to tell me she got a puppy and that she's getting married (to a guy, not the puppy). Yesterday, another college friend told me that he's getting married to his girlfriend of three years. So, yeah, I have a feeling that I'll be going to a lot of weddings in the next couple of years. I think some may be as soon as this year. ACK! ACK! ACK! What's going on?
So, anyways, back to my weekend.... My weekend started off before I even left work. I got a call from Glare asking what I was up to for dinner. I had no plans. Well, I did have plans to scrounge around my fridge, but I figured that hanging out with a good friend would be a better idea. So, I had dinner with her at The Parish Cafe. I have to say that it is quite a nice place. It has good atmosphere, good music, good drink and good food. They have a list of sandwiches that are all designed by top chefs in the Boston area, and a martini list designed by top bartenders. It's altogether a pretty cool thing. I think it would probably be a really great first date spot. Anyways, we ate and chatted like pros. As my philosophy is to try to eat everything on my plate, I ate everything in my sandwich, but I unfortunately failed at the potato salad. It was alright as far as potato salad goes, but it didn't really change my opinion on whether I like it or not. I just don't. I think I ate around a third of it and then gave up. But, honestly, I can say, "Mom, I tried."
After dinner, Glare and I took a jaunt around the Prudential Center and the Copley Mall. We spent quite a bit of time at William Sonoma. See, The Violent One gave me a fifteen dollar gift certificate to William Sonoma for the holidays, but I just can't figure out what to spend it on. If I spend it between now and the thirtieth of the month, I get an additional ten percent off. I just can't figure out what to get. Nothing that I want there costs between fifteen and twenty dollars, so I can't get away with paying nothing. So I've been looking at other things. I was really hoping that something would jump out at me, but it didn't. The closest thing that I have come to getting was a new coffee grinder with a removable/washable bowl. I would only be paying ten bucks for that. I couldn't decide though, and I wasn't convinced, so I walked away. I still have a couple of weeks to deal with it. If I thought that I would be staying in the Boston area, I would have put it towards a Le Crusset dutch oven or something of the likes. But with my impending move to either San Francisco or New York City, I think that it would be best to hold off a bit.
After dinner, Glare drove me to the T and I headed off to JP to Shutterbug and Saucy's engagement celebration. Strangely enough, Fester and I were the only two dragon boaters there. Well, actually he was the only dragon boater. I'm technically an ex-dragon boater. It was an interesting mix of people, most from the lesbian community. I had met some of them before, but I don't think any of them remembered me. The funniest thing was that a girl that I used to work with at Crate & Barrel was there. It was so funny. She walked past me at the party and I was like, "Hey, I know that girl......" Later on, we were both included in a small group of people chatting in the kitchen. I have to say, it was a lot of fun. It was very chilled out.
Saturday, I woke up pretty late. Originally, I had planned to do a bunch of stuff, including going to Haymarket, making a stew, and re-organizing the kitchen. The only thing that I ended up doing was partially re-organizing the kitchen. It makes a lot more sense now. All of the ingredients that are commonly used are in one cupboard at eye level, as opposed to spread out about the eye level cupboard and a knee level cupboard. Some of the more specialty ingredients are still at knee level, but I think that I have, for the most part, separated things out well. To be honest, it took an amazing amount of time to do this. Some of the ingredients weren't being properly stored. There were things that just weren't ever used in places where things that are used very often should be. It was just a general mess. I can't believe how much more space we have in our cupboards now that I have organized things a bit.
At around seven, I went to a friend's name changing party. Yeah, she changed her name, because she didn't like it. Hey, if you're thirty something and you've had issues with your given name, you have full right to change it. I chatted a lot with Carpenter and VWMod there. It was fun, but odd. A lot of the people there were from swing dancing and it was just weird seeing them all. The party broke up at a little past nine, because a bunch of the people there wanted to go see Beatle Juice (a Beatles cover band). So I went on home.
I was actually supposed to go to the Enormous Room with Special K and I figured that we'd see if Sweet Scent, Fester and Ebonically Lingustic would want in on it, but it all fell through. When Special K left a gathering at his boss' place, he decided that he wasn't up for going back out. It was cool with me, but I kinda wanted to go out. But I gave it up and stayed in to watch a Korean movie and Before Sunset.
Sunday, I was woken up by my brother's phone call. He had come over to my place after aikido class to drop off some materials that I requested from the French Culinary Institute in New York City. After taking the materials, I promptly went back to sleep. By the time that I woke up again, it was two in the afternoon and Photogenic and Whisper were back from New Hampshire. To be honest, I was shocked that they were back so early. I figured that they would have been on the slopes all Sunday as well. Instead, they came home to cook and to go to a coworker's football party. I spent the majority of the day looking over the application materials and just chilling out with the roomies.
Later on that evening, The Boy Wonder and another friend dropped by to watch the Patriot's game. Eventually Ebonically Linguistic came over and we went shopping for some dinner. I made baked ziti, which didn't quite come out right, garlic bread, and salad with a pomegranate vinigarette. Altogether, I was pretty disappointed in myself. I think that if I had taken my time and focused myself a little bit more, I would have done a better job. But, hey, you can't win them all. I just figured that something like baked ziti would be a no-brainer. I was wrong. I think that I would have done it better if I had made linguini in clam sauce, which was also up on the drawing board as far as options went. Japanaphile actually came over for football and the movie as well.
After dinner, The Violent One and The Boy Wonder shuffled off and Japanaphile, Ebonically Lingustic and I sat around chatting until half past midnight when she went to drop Japanaphile off and to pick up one of her friends at South Station. It was a good night though. A lot of laughs and a lot of pretty cool discussion on a number of topics.
Today was probably the coolest, though. I had a killer day, and it went a little something like this (hit it!). I woke up at noon, took a shower and headed into town to meet Ebonically Linguistic and The Violent One for lunch. We went to Men-Tei, the nearly authentic ramen joint off of Newbury Street. I hadn't been there in a long, long time. I think that it was either this past spring or summer. I had my favorite kimchi ramen. It was oh-so-yummy.
After lunch, Ebonically Lingusitic and I were supposed to meet up with Japanaphile to go see Finding Neverland. Unfortunately, he was feeling slightly under the weather and bowed out. So, Ebonically Lingusitic and I went to go see it. Man, was that a good movie. I think that I have gone to see a lot of really great movies this year and this is, most definitely, one of them. Johnny Depp and Kate Winslet both did excellent jobs. The ending was so sad that both Ebonically Linguistic and I were sobbing. It was a good cry though. After the credits finished, I turned to Ebonically Linguistic and said to her, "There's nothing like a tearjerker to make a man feel like a complete pussy."
Truth be told, I like tearjerkers. On my list of the top favorite movies that are tearjerkers are Big Fish, My Life and now Finding Neverland. Garden State got me a bit misty at the end too.
After the movie, we ran around the Copley Mall and did a bit of shopping. There were some amazing sales going on. I walked out with a new sweater from Banana Republic and a new knife. I made some scores today.
We met The Violent One at Cassava after the bout of shopping and waited for Photogenic to arrive before heading off to dinner at Steve's. It had been so long since I have eaten Greek food. I really love Greek food. There's just something beautiful about flaming Saganaki and stuffed grape leaves. Yummy.
Unfortunately, we had to rush a bit through dinner. We started dinner at eight and needed to be at the movie theater at ten past nine to see Ray. We got there just in time. I have to say that Ray was really well done. Jamie Foxx basically channeled the spirit of Ray Charles into him. I learned a great deal about Ray Charles as I watched the movie. I think that someone said that it was supposed to be a tearkjerker, but I didn't really cry. I was shocked at points, but no tears. It did, however, really make me want to dance. I wanted to get up and lindy hop in the aisles. The music of Ray Charles speaks to me so much that it's unreal. I can feel it in my chest and in my feet. I think that maybe next Monday, I'll head over to Harvard Square to spend the night dancing for the first time in a long time. I think that it could be fun.
Anyways, that was my day. It was a good weekend. Hopefully I'll have some cool stuff going on this week. Hopefully, Chef Paul O'Connell and I will get together. If I don't hear from him by the time I get home tomorrow, I'm going to shoot him another e-mail. I will get this job. I will work for this man. I WILL become a cook.
Apparently Jedi Mind Tricks Don't Work On Me Listening: So many adventures couldn’t happen today, so many songs we forgot to play. So many dreams are swinging out of the blue. We let them come true.
Yesterday, I pushed all of my clocks and watches ahead ten minutes in an effort to make myself a little bit more on time to work. Unfortunately that didn't work. I don't know what my deal is. I feel like my internal clock is inching closer and closer to being polarized from what a normal nine to fiver would have. It's just so strange. It's like I don't want to go to sleep at all. My eyes may hurt from being awake, but it doesn't matter. I don't actually want to go to sleep.
I can't really attribute it to caffeine. I have my one thermos of coffee in the morning and that's all the caffeine that I ingest all day long. If I get a soda, it's usually ginger ale or Sprite, just because I consciously don't want to over caffeinate myself. I drink tea sometimes, but not too often. Man, I wish I could sleep.
A while back, Raver Girl suggested that I try taking melatonin. She says that she takes it from time to time. The Violent One says that her parents take it to get over jet lag. I just don't know though. I would rather do this without the help of chemicals, but maybe I just don't have the self-discipline. Maybe I need help with this. If it doesn't get better soon, I really think I might try taking the melatonin.
In other news, I didn't get to meet with Paul O'Connell today. He cancelled on me this afternoon over e-mail, but I went to the restaurant anyways, because I can't check my e-mail at work. We're going to try to reschedule for next week. Luckily, I have Monday off due to Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Hopefully, we'll be able to get together then. I can't wait to talk to him. The way that we have been bouncing e-mails back and forth makes me think that he is going to let me work in his kitchen. I mean, I would think that anyone else would be like, "These are the times that I can meet. If they don't work for you, then, oh well." He has a staff. I'm sure that he's not seriously hiring right now. So he has to be interested in helping me if he's putting this much effort in. It kind of fills me with a bit of hope.
Anyways, it's late. Photogenic, Whisper and I finished out the last two episodes of "The L Word" tonight. The season finale really kicked ass. It dropped some major bombs. It also had a killer soundtrack. I can't wait until the new season comes out. Anyways, off to sleep with me.
The Best Of All Possible Worlds? Listening: I know there's a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen in my living room late last night. It was almost too bright to see. And I know that it's not a party if it happens every night, pretending there's glamour and candelabra when you're drinking by candlelight. What does it take to get a drink in this place? What does it take? How long must I wait?
Over the past couple of days, I have been poking around the internet at work, looking at pictures on the ID&T of parties and of venues. They're the people who put on the Sensation White and Sensation Black parties that I got the CDs from when I went to Amsterdam for Dance Valley. Looking at this company's website and the photos of their parties really makes me wonder about the society that I'm living in.
Don't get me wrong, I love my country. I like the "freedoms" that I have. I just think that sometimes there are times living in this country where we have a kind of absence of freedom as well. I guess the best way to put it is this. This country is a hundred percent free if you believe in what the mass majority believes. You are a hundred percent free if you're a God-fearing, right-leaning, straight, pop music listening, Gap wearing, hype buying person. If you live any sort of alternative lifestyle, if you dress goth, punk or raver, if you have funny colored hair, if you listen to music by a band that has a name that is more than four syllables long, if you're gay, and if you believe that everyone has a right to not be given funny looks, well, then, you're not so free.
I just get the feeling that if you're not going after the picket fence, two point five kids, a dog and a million bucks, then the rest of the people in the United States start wagging their fingers at you and saying that you should be doing this or you should be doing that. All of that pressure builds up to a point where you feel like you have to do everything that everyone in the society that I live in wants you to do. People aren't free to be themselves here in the States. It's all just keeping up with the Joneses. It's all about the "I want what you have, because everyone else has it."
I think that a good example of this is in the nightclub clientele. I know it's not really close to a microcosm, but it is sort of. When I go to Avalon, I notice people. I'm a people watcher. There are several different types of people who go to clubs. First and foremost are the socialites. These are the people with the expensive clothes, tables in the VIP areas and overflowing cash and drinks. The next step are the college kids who have mommy and daddy's disposable income to spend on drinks and clothes. Both of these two groups tend to look down on the other two groups that I am about to mention. The average Joes and the conoisseurs. The average Joes are just there, because they think that it'll be a fun thing to do on a Friday or Saturday night. They're regular working stiffs and kids who have to work their way through college. They think, "Hey, I'll go to a club and maybe meet a chick." They wear pretty average clothes, because the FCUK or Armani shirt is just out of their price range, and they sit and watch as the college kids and the socialites pick up on all the girls and guys they want. The conoisseurs are the people who are there for the music. They're there to dance and to appreciate. They wear what they want, when they want. The socialites look down on the conoisseurs for their raggedy clothing. Connoiseurs look down on socailites for taking up dance floor space. Average Joes look up to the socialites and the college kids for being able to hook up, and the college kids are just so self-centered that they don't notice anything. There's just so much division. Do you see it? The people who all might like the same music, dance to the same beats, smile at the same things, all of these people segregate themselves.
When I look at the pictures of the parties in Amsterdam, I don't see that division. I didn't see it when I was at Dance Valley. In fact, there was this one point where I was on top of the hill next to the chill tent, looking down at the mainstage when I met this awesome group of Dutch kids. They were all dressed in funky colors and were just a nice bunch of kids. They welcomed me and the kids that I went to Dance Valley with into their group for a while. We were completely different. We looked different, acted different, danced different, but none of it mattered. We were just eight kids from different parts of the world having a good time. That wasn't the only time that I experienced that at Dance Valley. I can tell you about a dozen of other times where I met people who were totally cool. If a connoiseur went up to a socialite and tried to chat, they would be brushed off. If an average Joe, went to check out a group of connoiseurs dancing, he would most likely be ignored. Those pictures show all sorts of people dressed all sorts of ways having fun. I know it happens. I've been there before. It doesn't happen here. There's too much segregation, too much self-centeredness, too much closed-mindedness.
I know that my father is probably reading this and is thinking to himself, "How could I have brought up such a leftist, bleeding-hearted liberal?" And the thing is, I'm not nearly as warm and as cushy as it all seems. Economically, I'm pretty conservative. I believe that you should receive what you earn, not what someone hands to you out of pity. I believe in digging oneself out of one's own holes. But, when it comes to human contact, to meeting someone, I believe that this country has instilled a bit of elitism. Just because you wear a hundred dollar shirt, you're better than me? Fuck you. You're not. I wish for once, people in this country could just relate to each other as people and not as the posessions that they surround themselves with.
Another thing that I think that the Dutch have up on us is that they have these huge festival concerts around once a month. It's amazing. Here in the States, we can't even make Lollapalooza work anymore. There are no big affordable fun festival concerts. They happen all over Europe for that matter. Dance Valley in Amsterdam, the Love Parade in Berlin, God's Kitchen near Stratford, UK, and the Fuji Rock Festival are all good examples of how they're doing it around the world. We have Winter Music Conference in Miami, which is more of a convention, and the Detroit Electronic Music Festival, which is the closest thing that we have to what they have in Europe. I think it's kind of sad. There are so many more people in this country, we have so much more space and yet we can't get our shit together to have some festivals.
I'm not saying that Amsterdam is the best of all possible worlds by any means. I'm sure they have their problems like every other city and country has. I just think that the States could learn a thing or two from them. I think that we could be a little bit more accepting of other cultures and other people. Respect people's choice to look the way they do, or dress the way they do. I know I'm not the paragon of acceptance too. I know I have a long way to go. I do, however, think that I am lightyears ahead of the average American. I think I've seen a lot of things and have been to a lot of places. I think that everyone should go out there to see the world. Everyone should be an outsider once, just so that they can understand why we should accept each other a little bit more and reach out with our hands (not our wallets) to other people. As one of my teachers in high school would say, "See through the eyes of the fish."
Off Schedule... Seriously. Listening: Give your trust to me and look into my heart and show me, show me what you’re doing.
Since I got back from Vancouver, I have seriously been off schedule. I haven't gone to sleep before half past three in well over a week. It's not that I haven't wanted to go to sleep before three. It's just that my mind has been cranking. It's not the cranking that you all are used to. I'm done with that for a while. Right now, "I'm in it," as Sam from Garden State would say. I am totally in it. I'm trying to figure out how to figure out the Rubik's cube that is my life, matching color to color, aspect of life to aspect of life. As of a few weeks ago, I've put some of the colors together into chunks. It's not all together, but I'm working on it. Since I've finally decided to take a stand and I have a real direction to move in, I have really felt much better about everything.
Over the last couple of days, I have been corresponding with Chef Paul O'Connell from Chez Henri. I talked with him just before going to Vancouver, and he told me to get in touch with him after the holiday. We've been e-mailing back and forth and we have finally set a date to meet. I'll be meeting him on Thursday at six. It'll mean that I'll have to get out of work a little early, but that shouldn't be much of a problem. But, man! I am so anxious and elated, so excited and scared that I can hardly contain myself. I need to find a way to convince this man that he needs me in his kitchen. I need to plan it all out. I need for him to understand that I'll do anything to work in a high end kitchen and that I won't take no for an answer (or at least I hope I won't have to take no for an answer). I'm gonna go in there and really just be honest about what I want to do and why I want to do it.
Let's see... What else has been going on.... This past friday, I went to Mantra for Chocoholic's girlfriend's birthday shindig. It was a lot of fun. I saw a lot of college people that I hadn't seen in a while, and met some people who knew some college people that I knew. I drank a few Ten and tonics, chatted with some folk, but left shortly after midnight. Both The Violent One and I had both gotten worn out by the week and decided to catch the last T back to Porter Square. Despite the fact that I was at home by one o'clock, I still didn't go to sleep until half past three.
The next afternoon, I woke up at three. Yeah, I know, I know. It was late, but I needed to catch up on sleep somewhere. A few minutes after I woke up, Fester IMed me to see what was up. I had originally planned to go to Haymarket to check out what was fresh and what was cheap, so I invited him along. Earlier in the week, I talked to Emeril and told him that we would hang out and do something food related during the weekend as well, so I called him up and invited him along as well. So, by half past four, the three of us were hunting that night's dinner.
I had never been into any of the butcher shops around Haymarket, mostly because they looked dirty from the outsides. There must be at least ten or so Halal butchers around there. We didn't know quite what we wanted to eat, so we looked around. After a few minutes, we decided one steak au poivre. We saw a bunch of good beef. It's a relatively simple recipe. So, it seemed like a great option. We ended up getting a ton of sirloin tip for about nine dollars. It was a ton cheaper than the grocery stores, had better color that the stuff in the grocery stores, had better marbling that the stuff in the grocery stores, so we took it. It was really enough meat to feed at least six people. The rest of the bounty for the day was three english cucumbers for a dollar, a bag of green seedless grapes for a buck and a half, three bunches of really good thin asparagus for a dollar, and four pounds of baby potatoes for a dollar.
After that, the three of us kicked it to Chinatown to see what was good there. I ended up buying some chive flowers to experiment with and an eighteen inch aluminum frying pan from the restaurant supply store, because the pan that we have in the apartment not only can't go in the oven, but the teflon is peeling off of it. That's just a bad scene. So, I sucked it up and bought a frying pan that I believe will last me a lifetime.
When we finished shopping, we called up Carpenter to come over for some food. He was there in a hurry. So, we had steak au poivre, asparagus, stir fried chive flowers with kumquats, and baby potatoes. The experiment went well. Some of the steaks were a bit overdone for my liking, but I think that I'll really be able to rock it in the future. It's amazing how a piece of beef will cook as it's resting. I never really believed in it, but now I am a whole hearted believer. I think that if I take the steaks out when they look bloody, they'll be rare after resting. If I take them out rare, they'll be medium rare on the plate and so on and so forth. It's something to really work on.
After dinner, we went down to Kings. Anti-Scott was having a little birthday thing there, but by the time we got there, everyone except for a couple of people had left. So the four of us just ended up shooting some pool.
I got home that night at about half past one or two o'clock. Photogenic and Whisper were up playing Scrabble. I walk in the door and one of the first things that Photogenic says to me is, "The next disc of 'The L Word' came in the mail today." So I asked her if she wanted to watch an episode while they played and she said yes. so I put it on. One episode becomes two, two becomes three, and three becomes all four on the disc. Before we knew it, it was five in the morning and we had watched all four episodes on the disc. It was sick. It was like we couldn't turn it off. Each episode left us wondering what was going to happen next. What more could we do other than watch each consecutive episode. It was scary how it drew us in.
So the next day I woke up at three in the afternoon again. I showered and then, as planned, went to Costco with Whisper and Photogenic. It really seems like the three of is spend a lot of time together as roomies. I would have thought that I would have been the outsider and The Violent One would have been the insider, but the fact of the matter is that she's just not around at night enough and I'm always home trying to save money. It's cool though. I have fun with those two. Photogenic is fun to make fun of and Whisper is just funny in his own dry, quiet, deadpan kind of way. Yah. Cool shit.
Anyways, it's three in the morning and I have to be up in six hours or so. They're turning off the heat in the building for the next three days while they install a new boiler. Fortunately, it won't affect the hot water situation. I don't know how that works, but, hey, if they say it will work that way, then who am I to argue? So, until the next time...
The Plots Thicken Listening: This is the place they say people come from far, far, far away to find their dreams, chasin' down these meteors and comets called dreams.
Ahh, it's a quarter to two in the morning and I'm writing a bit of a blog. Today was kind of an interesting day. The weather sucked all of the way around. I didn't do much of anything at work. People kept bothering me for different things from the days that I was out of the office. Sometimes I sent them prompt replies, and sometimes I just sort of blew them off. Over the last couple of days, I have discovered a few things that have made me give even less of a shit about my job and makes it ten times easier to say that I'm giving two weeks notice right before two weeks of vacations when I quit.
See, I become a hundred percent vested in my salary savings plan after five years of working at the company. Originally, I thought that my five years would be up in August of 2005, but I was wrong. I started to work for the Corporation in August of 2001, which would make me a hundred precent vested in August of 2006, not 2005. This means I'll only be partially vested (perhaps around eighty percent), in August of 2005. That sucks. If I was to be a hundred precent vested in August of 2005, I would have sucked it up and I would have stuck it out through August just to get a hundred percent vesting. Unfortunately for the Corporation, they have officially given me reason to say, as soon as I kill this debt and have enough to travel on a shoestring for a couple of weeks, I'm fuckin' outta there! If I'm not making a hundred percent vesting, there's no reason for me to stay. This gives me so much more freedom with my choices, because I won't feel guilty that I'm not sticking around for the hundred percent vesting. Hahaha! Suckers! If it was four years until a hundred percent vesting, they would have had me until the beginning of August. Now, I can plan to quit right before Dance Valley, go to Amsterdam for that and continue traveling for a few weeks before returning to the States for culinary school. Aww, man! How awesome is that?
Today I pitched the idea of the cookbook store to Glare. I brought it up casually in conversation. I really think it would be a great thing for both of us to do. As much as she loves the environment, I hate seeing her frustrated with her job, or even with the classes that she took in college. I think that if she were to open up a bookshop like this with me, we would be enjoying ourselves while determining our own fate. There really is something to be said about that. Glare and I both work well together, love food, love writing, love books.... It could be a hell of a venture. I think that I need a bit more of the background in the culinary arts, but I honestly believe that it could work. And in addition, I could own restaurants on the side.
Speaking of food, I went to Iron Chef Louie tonight after work. It was so much fun. Basically, you go to Iron Chef Louie's web site, vote for a meal theme, vote for a main ingredient and other ingredients as well as a style and Iron Chef Louie is notified at two in the afternoon the day of the event of the winners of the vote and he has to create a meal around it. It's a pretty cool concept. VWMod told me about the idea a while ago, but there hadn't been an event in a long while.
I have to say that it was a lot of fun. I hung out with a good crop of people including Digitaldewi, Carpenter, VWMod and a bunch of his friends. There was a lot of hijinks. The food was okay (though it could have just been the themes that he was working with), but what made the evening was the company. I had to say that I had the best time. It was a riot from beginning to end. There was peanut butter cup being eaten out of my mouth, a fiver being tucked in several places (one of which was the open zipper of my pants), dancing, oogling, laughing, and genuine good natured fun discussion. I can't remember having a time like that where I just sort of when with things as they came. I had fun for the sake of having fun and not to put on a show, to convince someone that I was cool, to win the favor a of a girl, or to feel accepted. I said what I wanted to say, did what I wanted to do.... I was honest. Actually, I don't know if one of VWMod's friends took me serious, but I was throwing some random complements out there, not because I wanted anything out of her, but because she was gorgeous. She was hot. Though I would have totally wanted to get with that, it's not essential to my life. I didn't care enough to be careful of what I said. Maybe she was flattered. Maybe she wasn't. I'll see her at the next Iron Chef Louie though and maybe we'll find out. I'm not holding my breath until then though. Right now, no one is worth waiting to exhale. She's got to be special in order for me to hold my breath.
Anyways, after I got home from this completely wonderful night, I had a bunch of great discussions with my roomies. See, a bunch of people (one roomie and a bunch of friends) have birthdays in February. Originally, we were gonna have a house warming party that I was going to make the Master & Slave party, but I have decided to postpone it. I know that Photogenic isn't really as gung ho about it as I am. So, since it's her birthday, we should do something in the apartment that is more suited for her. We have to figure out what we're doing for her birthday party. She said she doesn't want it in the house, because she doesn't want to clean up the mess, which I completely understand. So we're gonna have to figure out something cool to do outside of the house. Maybe we could rent out a section of a bar and say that we can promise X number of dollars to be spent. I did that for a dragon boat fundraiser, but things weren't executed as nicely as it could have been. But if we're not looking for donations, I figure it'll be easier to just have people drink and so on and so forth. So the Master & Slave party will be posponed until my birthday in early March. Ohh, it's gonna be a good time. I have The Violent One looking at corsets online. Perhaps I can get Sweet Scent to wear her mask and get a little naughty. Above all, I want people to have fun at my party. I want people to step out of their comfort zone in the same right, but I want them to know that it's all in good fun and that nothing is to be harmful or nothing is to be forced upon someone to make them uncomfortable. So I think that if people get in the spirit of the Master & Slave party, they are good humored and good natured, a good time will be had by all.
Anyways, it's time for me to go to sleep. I'm tired as hell and I need to be at work tomorrow to deal with some crap. Blah. Good think I'll be out by the end of the year.
Sleepy. Listening: It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams? And have you any dreams you’d like to sell? Dreams of loneliness like a heartbeat, drives you mad...
I got back into town this morning at three fifteen or so and didn't get home until almost four. I guess the flight gods equaled out our bumps with a four hour delay in perhaps the most boring airport known to man, Salt Lake City. Damn those Mormons. If only they believed in complete an utter hedonism, the four hours would have flown like they did in Cincinnati. Well, those hours didn't fly either, but they were a helluva lot more exciting than Salt Lake City.
I have to admit, though, there were a number of attractive ladies running around. None of whom were on my flight, seeing as it was overrun by crying babies, parents who couldn't control their little ones, and teens who would press the call button just so they could pocket another little bottle of water.
I got very little sleep on that flight, and it was the flight that I needed the most sleep on. Instead, I watched Mr. 3000 with Bernie Mac in it with the curse words altered like it was being broadcast on prime time network television. Yeah, not so much fun.
So, I got home at four, was asleep by five, was up at half past nine and at work an hour later. That hour later means that I was a half hour late for work. It's not the latest that I have ever been, but it was late enough to give my boss a bit of a scare. I really wanted to call in sick, but I knew that after being out for a week or so, I would have been asking for trouble. So I sucked it up and went in. I literally dragged myself through the day, and at the very end, I found out that another one of the guys in my group is jumping ship. He's taking another position in a different part of the Corporation. This will make me the most senior member in my group besides my manager and my senior. When I got here, there were four people ahead of me in line. All of the lemmings are jumping. I wish I could jump now too.
After work, I completely planned on coming home, eating something and going to sleep. It didn't quite happen that way. When I got home at half past seven, no one was home, which I thought was weird. I thought for sure one of my three and a half roomies would be home, but, alas, no. So, I plopped down in front of the newly purchased coffee table in my living room, opened up my sandwich and popped in the second "The L Word" DVD that we got from Netflix.
I have to say that I am really getting wrapped up in the whole plot. I wonder what will happen to each of the plot lines next. I swear it's not just the hot chicks in it.
Anyways, I finished the first episode on the disc right as Photogenic and Whisper got home, and so we played the next episode and the next episode and then the last episode on the disc. I really only planned on watching one or two of the episodes, but it was like we couldn't stop. At one point, Whisper got bored and Photogenic and I had to call out, "NIPPLES" in order to draw him back to the television.
I am really enthralled with the plotline involving a character named Jenny. She is a girl who is just beginning to discover that she has lesbian tendencies which lead to the breakup of her four year relationship with a guy. I find her character problematic because you feel her confusion and it leads you to have different feelings towards her as a character. I guess that's the kind of things that I like. I like flawed characters who need to feel their way out of a situation, be it right or wrong. I think it really brings humanity into a character.
In the bigger picture of things, I was IMing a friend of mine who just got engaged and who I haven't really talked to much lately. She asked me how I was doing. For once I answered, "You know, pretty damn good." It completely took her off guard. She knows me as the tortured artist type who is always brooding and so on and so forth. But, over the past ten or so days, I've taken a good look at my life. I'm making moves to make changes. I'm no longer tortured in my heart by a girl. I have great friends. I know the difference between love and infatuation. I know the difference between gourmet and McDonald's. I've seen a million places and I'm on my way to seeing a million more. And I have the cutest little grandmother that kicks so much ass that I wonder if she knows it. I hope to be just like her when I'm ninety four, except male and with a better grasp on the English language.
Speaking of my grandmother, for the first time in a long time, she offered to travel. However the circumstances are a little bit funny. See, she wants to take me to China to meet a wife so that I can get married. How funny and fuct is that? I have to be honest, I would travel to China with my grandmother, but as far as meeting a girl to marry there, I really don't see it happening. See, I talk hard. I talk fast. I use a lot of slang and pop culture references. If a girl can't keep up even half of the time to either laugh at my jokes or to hit me because my jokes are "disgusting," then I don't know if I can hang with her. I definitely can't see myself with someone oblivious. So, she's gotta be a fluent speaker with a firm grasp on some form or American or English pop culture. That means, I most likely won't be finding her in China. But I'll travel with my grandmother. That could be fun.
Anyways, I'm pretty damn tired. It's half past midnight and I have to catch up on some of the sleep that I didn't get last night. On my agenda for tomorrow, work, meet up with Harley to see the Art Deco exhibit at the MFA, write my cover letter and resume for Paul O'Connell at Chez Henri, figure out why my computer isn't recognizing the battery in my laptop, and unpack. It's gonna be a full day tomorrow. Hopefully I'll get all of my shit done.
