Appropriate Pressure Listening: When I step into the light my arms open wide, when I step into the light my eyes searching wild, would you not like to be sitting on top of the world with your legs hanging free? Would you not like to be ok?
I have found that when you're dealing with a girl that you think is attractive, it's all about the appropriate pressure. Too much pressure, and you scare the girl away. Not enough pressure and you risk not even being considered or missing out on something that could potentially be. It's a tough call to make and I find that I have been thinking a lot about it over the past few days.
Last night was one of the events that made me think even more about this idea of pressure and such. It was Totoro's birthday dinner, and I was to meet him, Glare and Totoro's brother at Anthem for dinner and drinks. I got a call right after work saying that they were running a bit behind and to see if I could go secure the reservation, so I did.
When I got the Anthem, I talked the hostess about the reservation and made my way to the bar to wait for my three dining cohorts of the night. I knew they were a long way off so I ordered a Hendrick's & tonic and cracked open my book (Best Food Writing 2004). When I chose my seat, I sat with one empty chair between myself and this rather striking girl. She had medium length brown hair, olive skin, a purple blouse and a nose stud. She looked classy and elegant with a touch of edge, just enough to keep things interesting. I chose that seat on purpose. After she ordered her Mango Martini, the barrkeep offered her a dinner menu which she refused because she was meeting friends. He offered me a menu next and I declined as well due to the fact that I was meeting friends as well. He asked if we were meeting the same friends, and I responded, "Hmm, not unless you're here to celebrate [Totoro's] birthday as well, to which she responded, "not unless you're here with a party of all girls." I thought for a second and said, "You know, I really have no problem with that."
After that little exchange, I smiled and turned back to my book. I didn't want to be that sketchy guy who hits on a girl at a bar. I have never been that guy. However I really did want to talk with her. She turned her attention to the TV where the Sox game was on and I continued reading. I knew what I probably would have said. I would have busted out the "So you work in Boston? What do you do? I am a mutual fund accountant by day and a cook at a fine dining restaurant by night and hope to be a chef of my own restaurant someday..." But those words never came out of my mouth. I didn't want to pressure this girl into having a conversation, though someone has to initiate if anything at all is to happen.
Before long, some of her friends show up and I decide to be chivalrous and give up my chair so that they can all sit and drink together as they wait for the rest of their party. Before long, my crew showed up and we made our way to the hostess stand to get our table. As we're standing there, I feel a little bump of a hip-check. It's the gorgeous girl in the purple blouse.
"Your party's all here?" she asks me.
"Yeah. How about yours?"
"They all just showed up too," she replied.
I paused for a second.
"So, is it girls' night out tonight?" I ask.
"Yeah," she said. "We do this every so often."
Now that's where it ended. Their table got served just before mine did and I didn't get a chance to talk to her again. I didn't even find out her name. I should have. I could tell that it had potential, but I didn't apply the appropriate pressure to get the number or a name.
Sometimes I think about my dates with this girl that I have gone out with a couple of times and I wonder if I'm applying the appropriate amount of pressure. I wonder if there are things I need to say or do to get her juices flowing, so to speak. I think I am much better at the girl thing than I have been in the past. I think that my range of coming on too strong and being non-existant have really shrunk, but I'm not to that ideal range yet. I'm not yet the daddy of the mack daddy. Maybe I'll get there someday.
Disturbing News And Then Some Listening: One last cry, before I leave it all behind. I’ve gotta put you outta my mind this time, stop living a lie. I guess I’m down to my last cry.
So I guess this is my first time blogging about any real medical news that I have. See, I have recently been diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder. I'm not exactly sure when it happened or how it happened, but somehow, either through a stroke or by getting knocked in the head by something at some point in my life, I have damaged a bit of my right frontal lobe of my brain. It has left me with a bit of a neurological disorder that's really hard to describe. You can read about it here and here.
All joking aside, life is going perfectly fine. I bought three new pairs of boxers to replace some pairs that have overstretched waist bands that nearly fall off my ass, so how bad could life be? Everyone needs something near their nads, and if it isn't a fantastic woman, it might as well be a comfy pair of drawls, no? There is a bit of a twist though. I strayed from my normal plaid boxer M.O. and bought one pair of striped. I'm a rebel, aren't I? I'm sure that you don't really want to hear about my drawls, so I'll move on.
Last night I went to see New Edition and Brian McKnight with Ebonically Linguistic at the Harborli.. Fleet Bost... Bank of America Pavillion. When I was a kid, I really liked New Edition as well as the bands/artists that came out of New Edition like Bobby Brown and Bell Biv Devoe. When we sat down in our seats, I was sandwiched between Ebonically Linguistic and a rather sizable black man. Think Reuben Stoddard after about ten too many reubens. This was a big man. At first, I was a little bit uncomfortable, because I felt like he was crowding me. However once the opening act went on and we were both heckling this guy rather vocally, we bonded.
For the rest of the concert, we bonded. He knew all of the words to all of the songs, and it was awesome. We (Ebonically Linguistic, the big black man and his big black girlfriend and I) were up on our feet dancing and singing the songs. This guy really made the concert that much better. He was a really cool guy.
The concert itself was awesome. New Edition replaced Bobby Brown with Johnny Gill, but they still didn't miss a beat. They played all of the songs that I wanted to hear, including "Candy Girl," "Cool It Now," "Mr. Telephone Man," and "If It Isn't Love." In addition to that they finished off their part of the concert with Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison." You don't know how good life can get until you hear Ricky sing, "Never trust a big butt and a smile." Heh heh heh. I love that line.
Not only did they sing theses songs, but they were also rocking the group choreography. It was as if they hadn't grown up. It was as if we were back in the late eighties or early nineties. I presume that this is what my parents experience when they see the Four Tops or The Temptations live. It's that nostalgia from your past that makes you go, "yeah, man!" I don't think that it would have been the same if they were just running around the stage singing. The choreography was key. It added energy and flair to their performance.
Brian McKnight was good as well, though he was much more chilled out and "drop ya drawlz," if you will. He played my favorite three songs, "Anytime," "The Only One For Me," and "Back At One." He had an electric set and an acoustic set. Both were equally good. The man has a voice like buttah and the performance reaffirmed my belief that Brian McKnight is the Barry White of my generation.
Tonight was a chill night for me. I had no plans, so I cleaned up my room, did my laundry, got take out sushi and watched television. It was a rare night for me. The funny thing was that I was at home alone for most of it. The roomies didn't get back until after ten. It's rare for me to come home and not have anyone home. I didn't mind it at all, but it was just weird. I go for days and days without having a real conversation with any of them. It's strange living like that. It would be one thing if I were living with complete strangers. Then, I wouldn't care whether I saw or talked to them at all anyways. I figured that if I lived with my friends, I would see and talk to them much more than I do. I guess I just work too much. It's all in the name of my own restaurant though.
Anyways, it's late. I need to get to sleep. I haven't been getting nearly as much rest as I should lately. My eyes hurt now. I think I'll give them a rest.
All's Fair... Listening: What’s the use in regrets? They’re just things we haven’t done yet. What are regrets? They’re just lessons we haven’t learned yet.
... In love and war, or so they say. I guess that what they mean is that even if it feels unfair or unjust, in love nothing is unfair and nothing is unjust. It just is, so to speak.
I think most of this was all brought on by the ending of Spanglish. When watched it the other night, I couldn't watch the extras, because it was too late and because there was something wrong with the DVD. Last night, I wiped the DVD off and tried it again and it worked. I hoped, being the believer in happy endings (in everything, mind you), that they had an alternative ending. I know that it might have knocked the goodness notch of the main character down a bit, but I just hoped that it would happen. I don't believe that things should have turned out the way that they did in the movie. No one got what they deserved, with the exception of the children of Adam Sandler's and Tea Leoni's characters.
I have to say that I did wish that some of the deleted scenes had made the final cut. I think that extended the characters, and somewhat made them more complex. There was one deleted scene where Tea Leoni is arguing with Adam Sandler, when he walks to the other side of the room and asks Tea Leoni to walk over to him. He then proceeds to tell her that they need to make a break for it and leave those two people who were arguing behind. Man, what a great move. What a great image and idea, the idea that one can leave oneself behind and just do what's right even if it feels wrong.
It was because of the ending of the movie that I started thinking about the justice in love. Is it just wishful thinking or is it a reality? Do the people who deserve love and adoration receive it? Do the people who do not deserve it eventually lose it? Is the word "deserve" too presumptious and is there some sort of scale that we can measure deservingness on?
I guess another reason why I have been thinking about these subjects is because there was a discussion at the restaurant after service about what it's like when you see a really cool girl who is dating a douchebag and vice versa, or even what it's like when someone says or does something and your opinion of them just drops and you think to yourself, "Oh, man, I wish you hadn't just said that."
It really is the worst thing when you see someone that you want happily with a douchebag. I guess it's even worse when they're with someone fantastically excellent for them, but douchebag is pretty bad too. The question gets raised over whether you say something to break their happy wading in the ocean of douche or if you should sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up (as Henry Rollins would say) and let them be. Of course you'll be there to pick up the pieces when they realize that they're swimming in vinegar and water, but is it easier to deal with it now or later. Sometimes people never really snap out of that cloudy bliss with so-called douchebag, or ho-bag-psycho-hose bitch, if you will. And that's the saddest part. Sure it could be true that they see a side of them that you don't see. But really.... If you see some sketchy behavior or unhealthy things going on in a relationship, don't you think it would be beneficial to step in? Bah! It's a huge conflict and when you start thinking about it, you realize that you have hypocritical.
Another thing that has been on my mind has been this feeling that I have been getting while working at the restaurant. There's this girl there who is originally from the UK and has the accent to match. She's a fantastic girl. She's really cool, funny and nice. She's not really my type as far as women go, but she is very attractive on the whole. Anyways, sometimes she'll be talking and I just think to myself, "Ouch... That accent hurts." It's not like a "I can't stand that accent!" kind of feeling. It's more of a memory that smarts a bit, even though she bares no resemblance to any other Brit that I have ever known. It's just an "ouch" feeling though.
I know it really doesn't mean anything. I know it's just kind of a reminder, but it's there. I'm trying hard not to relate to her on her nationality though. I think that if I did, it would leave a bad taste in my mouth. PJ thinks that I just need to find another way to relate to her, find a way to make a sort of joke between us so that when I do think of her , I think of the joke and not the accent. I think the only joke that we have erally had much so far relates to her accent. We make fun of the way each other says the word 'can't.' She says that I say it as if it were spelled 'cayhnt' in a very nasal kind of way. I insist that she's saying 'cunt.' I don't think that I want to make that our joke though.
The really strange thing is that her accent didn't start getting at me until a couple of weeks ago. I don't know what changed in my head or what circuit breaker went off, but it just happened one day. It was weird.
Anyways, all in all, I'm fine. Today, Tuesday, is my Friday. I have about five and a half more hours to go before I can begin my weekend, or at least my part of the week where I'm not working until half past eleven in the evening. This "weekend," I'm going to see Brian McKnight and New Edition with Ebonically Linguistic on Wednesday, my Thursday seems clear unless I go see Sasha spin at Axis, and I think I'm getting together with some friends on Friday for dinner, but the details aren't really set.
I saw a pretty cool promotion from the Craigie Street Bistrot in my e-mail inbox this morning. Maybe I'll try to get that girl to go and check it out with me next week, because I don't think it's happening this week. Ookie. Time for the next job. Welcome to the occupation.
Long Time No See Listening: Closer to my dreams. I'm goin higher and higher. I ain't gonna sleep. Sometimes you just have to let it go. Leaving all my fears to burn down. Push them away so I can move on.
It's been over a month since I have posted. It's not for lack of trying or lack of anything to say. I wrote a half a post about a few weeks ago, encompassing Chez Henri's first prize win at the Edible Art charity event/competition, and some other personal happenings. The truth is that I have been working about seventy hours a week between the Corporation and the restaurant. The free time that I have had, I have used to rest, to spend with friends and to decompress.
As of late, my life has been pretty damn good. I have been working hard, getting my butt kicked, but it's all in the name of advancing where I want to be in life. There was an across the board menu change at the restaurant, so I have four new dishes to learn, in addition to a number of new sauces. I feel like in some ways, I have taken on some new responsibilities at the restaurant in lieu of some others. Suddenly, I feel like I am considered to be the senior cook on the garde manger station. I get mad amounts of respect from all of the chefs. I am trusted to do things and and to make sure they're done right. It's a good feeling to feel like people in your place of business think that you're doing a good job even when you feel as if you're performing like shit. The don't fault me for going slow when I do. Jarred told me that it comes with time and that if I had been working full time and was six months in, that I wouldn't even be that fast. He says that when you cook for a while, you develope this amazing manual dexterity. I hope I develop it soon, because I feel like I need it.
Also in the realm of the restaurant, the kitchen has finally begun to be scorchingly hot. It's only been up to eighty degrees outside, but the kitchen has just been incredibly hot. I've had to wear headbands to keep the sweat out of my eyes and out of food. I just noticed that I have a heat rash on my shoulders where my chef's coat touched my back. Mark was dripping with sweat yesterday as he was working the grill. I can only imagine how hot it will get in there when the temperature outside reaches a hundred degrees.
On other news, Fester and I ran our second annual Memorial Day Weekend tasting dinner a week ago. This time, though, we added Emeril as a third cook. In attendance were Booch, THE Hustler, Glare Hulk, Harley, Carpenter, Photogenic, Whisper and my brother. The menu was as follows: Duck Rillets served on endive as the passed hors doerves, seared fois gras on port wine poached pears with a port wine and shallot reduction and balsamic vinegar as the appetizer, vichysoisse as the soup, cornish game hen with a vermouth dijon sauce, grilled polenta, grilled baby onion and sauteed fiddleheads as the entree, a selection of three cheeses as the cheese course, a mixed green salad of watercress, peapod tendrils, and frisee dressed with a citrus vinegarette on cucumber carpaccio dressed with a dill dressing and fleur de sel. Our crowning achievement, by far was the dessert. The dessert was a dense sour cream chocolate cake and a lemon panna cotta served with lime whipped cream, raspberry sauce, and candied lemon zest with a chocolate doo-dad as a garnish. It was so amazing. The entire dinner went off wonderfully. I think that everyone really enjoyed themselves.
There was really only one mishap to speak of and it was really all because of me. We had the dinner in the function room of my old building. It's a pretty nice room, but it has one flaw that I neglected to note. The hood above the range doesn't actually venthilate anywhere. It blows in the bottom and out the top, back into the room. Now, as some of you might know, fois gras has a very high fat content, which means that it has a very low smoking point. In order to sear the fois, I have to have a reasonably hot pan. I, being the fois gras chef virgin, had my pans up a little bit too high, so my fois started to smoke immediately. I had three pans going as well. So, the smoke just came billowing out the top of the hood and into the smoke detector, which was hard wired to the entire building's fire alarms and the fire department. So the fire department had to come to shut down the alarm and the whole building was evacuated. I felt like a little bit of a dolt, but both my friends and my fellow chefs at the dinner and at the restaurant assured me that it was fine. But that was the only botched part of the dinner.
In other news, the rest of my life seems to be going fine. Work has gotten easier at the Corporation. I have had more time during the day instead of having all of the most difficult work.
I've gone out on two dates with a girl who I really like. I met her at a benefit and then I saw her at Soul Revival. About a month and a half ago, we started e-mailing. We kept saying that we had to have lunch "sometime" because we worked so close to each other. After e-mailing for a period of time, we ended up having a two hour lunch in Chinatown. I have never had such a good time on a lunch date ever. I've had a number of lunch dates, but in this one, the conversation never dropped. We talked about everything from music to food to art and work. I had a great time. And over the past few weeks, we haven't been able to get together until just this past Friday. We had ice cream, walked around the common and then I walked her home to Central Square. It was a good time and I can't wait to see her again. The only thing is that I can't read her. I have trouble reading women on the whole, unless they're furious with me. I'm just going to continue to be me and hope that something pans out. But bottom line is that I want to see her again.
Lately, I have been trying to figure out what to do with my two to two and a half weeks of vacation that I have booked in August. Airfares are really very expensive right now, and my two friends bailed out of going to Dance Valley with me due to financial and conveniece reasons. So I am at a crossroads as to what I want to do. Ideally, I would run around Europe for a few weeks eating and living on a shoe string. However, I would also consider doing that in Asia as well. I've tossed around the idea of going on an organized culinary tours and even just going to a resort to relax. Regardless, I'll need to relax by then. Working seven days a week for two long probably isn't too good for one's health. I've been thinking about trying to find a restaurant to stage at in Europe for a few weeks. I don't know how feasible that is, but if anyone has any connetions for me out there, it would be much appreciated if I could do a little bit of networking with you.
Finally, it's three in the morning and I have just finished watching the movie Spanglish. I have to admit that when I first saw the trailers for the movie, I thought it was going to be pretty dumb. Adam Sandler tends to do comedic roles that are very slapstick, and the movie itself looked like a chick flick. So, naturally, I saw a mismatch in my brain which triggered the thought "It's gonna suck." I was so wrong. It was a fantastic movie, one that I would consider owning. Adam Sandler plays a chef, which hits close to home, and the plot is very good. There are a couple of key scenes that really were very powerful. I highly recommend this movie. It's a quality use of two hours.
Anyways, it's time for me to go to sleep. Hopefully, it won't be another month before I post again. I miss writing, but when push comes to shove, I would much rather live my life than write about my life. It's a rare thing, where I am so busy and satisfied with my life that I don't necessarily feel the need to blog about every moment of my life. It doesn't mean that I won't write or that I won't try to write. It's just that it's not as big of a priority as it once was. So I hope to hear from you all and I hope you all hear from me in the near future.
