Ocean Prime

I just did a stage today at Ocean Prime.  I was pretty comfortable with what was going on, but I was partnered with a nice African dude, who did not have his English refined to the point that he should train people.  He was very fast, but it was very confusing.  I just watched for the most part, because that is what I though he told me to do.  The reason that the chef told me I wasn't getting the broiler position (which is not the one he said I'd be checking out...) was that he didn't see a whole lot of movement from me.  I don't need to run around to watch something, unless it's a person trying to get away from me!  He also said he could see, in my eyes, that I was a little intimidated.  I was told that it is not normal for them to crank out 100 covers in an hour, but, I said that it was intimidating, because I try not to bullshit people that I want to work with.  The confusion of not being able to understand the person training you, having no real explanation of what is happening, and trying to stay out of people's way was not quite what I expected.  I did like seeing the way that they operate, but there are some serious issues with cross-contact, and cross-contamination at the place, which surprised me.  I'm pretty sure that the chef is impressed with himself, and I'm sure it's with good reason, but if it clouds your judgement, pride can be a very bad thing.  He said that if his prep guy can handle a spot on the line, he would need another prep guy, and would give me a call.  That would probably be pretty easy money, and I could still tell people I work at a place that sells forty dollar steaks smeared with butter, but this isn't really the kind of food I'm interested in.  What I tasted was pretty good, but it seems very heavy.  Par for the course at a steakhouse, I s'pose.  If I could afford to, I would probably eat there, but not often.

OH!  Also, stupid-ass me declined the payment of a free meal!  I wasn't feeling very hungry, and didn't realize that I would be by the time I got home!  That mistake will never be made by me again.

I swear I am not high!

I can not seem to stop eating!  I have been drawing out my breakfast to las for an hour or longer, waiting about twenty minutes, and then I start grazing.  I suppose the problem is probably lack of activity.  There was no call back to 24grille, and I have yet to pursue other avenues of employment.  Shame on me.  With nothing to distract me, I have been free to focus the entirety of my energy on me.  This is unhealthy, but very often tasty and indulgent.  I have explored the hell out of gluttony before, and have now either relapsed, or made a breakthrough discovery regarding the strange possibility of the contagious natue of pregnancy.  My money is on me being a fatass.  It is super hot out, lately, but I have sunscreen, and a shopping center within a mile or so of where I will hopefully be waking up, assuming that I have not earned myself a heart attack yet.  I'll just walk up there, sweat on rich strangers, and try not so scare any children, but if I don't move around soon, I may just start to rust.

summer teeth

Family has come and gone, Aunt has died and was buried, living in her condo mostly, still haven't heard back from chef at 24.  BLAH!  I guess I will move on from what seemed like a certainty, as it now looks much less likey and summer is running out of patience.  What next?  No se.  I will try to get a bartending shift or two, hopefully find a restaurant to learn at, and maybe even figure out where we are going to live in the fall!  AAAHHH!  I finally started practicing my tourne today.  That proved that I need to keep practicing it.  I will also need to get my hands back in proper shape for regular, human knife work.

Went to Shehrezad for dinner.  I think some butthole fell into the falafel.  That made everything taste terrible to me.  Before, pretty good.  My dinner was JUST little slivers of overcooked lamb and steamed carrots, broccolli, and cauliflower.  Lots of each, when instead, they could have actually made a composed dish.  Fucking ridiculous.  Their soup sucks, too.  I love falafel!  It is easy, delicious, and cheap!  I thought at first that it was the tahini, but got more, and tasted it by itself, and it was just funky, bad falafel!  Beyond that, my sister is ULTRA pissy lately, and taking EVERYTHING very personally.  She has a hair trigger on that bitch switch, and is always ready to ruin a ploeasant time.  Lovely.  She was extra bitchy because she had steered us back to this Middle Eastern mediocrity instead of Amici's, an amazing pizza place in Royal Oak.  She wanted something lighter than pizza and salad because she has an intense workout planned for the morning.  So, instead of vegan pizza, and salad, it was fried chickpeas, pureed chickpeas, and an oily-ass salad.  Seemed like a pretty dense alternative.  Her favorite responses are "whatever" and "no!  nevermind!" followed by averted gaze and tense silence.  I guess she's fine elsewhere, which makes her shitty attitude even more upsetting.  I'm getting attitude for being disgusted by crappy food!

Whatever.  Nevermind.  I just don't like other people forcing their negativity on to situations where ALL parties involved were happy and having fun.  She is such a brat sometimes.  She yells at me for having fun, then yells at me more for being pissed that I'm not allowed to have fun! 

I look forward to the school year, which will be kicked off early with the first ICC practice on August 23+24!  I will almost certainly be too busy to worry about other peoples' turbulent emotions, but hopefully not too busy to focus on school, and maybe even work.

There is a birthday bbq on the thirtieth before any of that!  I am going to bake some beans, use some of my mango chutney in them, and hopefully get it together enough to do some horseradish-cheddar grits.maybe I can pickle some veggies, too.  I might have to pop in at the restaurant to borrow a couple of burners and a refrigerator for this project.   I am not loving the flat range here, and a jar of hot bacon grease allowed it's bottom to secede from the walls, covering me in very hot, porky napalm the other day.  It could have been way worse, as I was in flip flops and did not burn or cut my toes.  I am also very glad that I chose to wear jeans and a shirt.  The shirt, which took a big splattering, was donated to the cleanup effort, and was retired afterward.  It will be missed.

ALSO!

I did get an A+ in my beverage class.  That put me at 8 A+s and 6 As for the year.  Nice turn-around for a dropout.  My mom drove out to meet me in Providence.  We ate more awesome food than I could have without her, and she got to see a pretty good deal of the area.took the really long way home, time wise, not distance wise, hung out with Aunt Sharie, her cousin in law who talks about porn at the dinner table, and his daughter, who has to deal with her dad bringing up porno movies at the dinner table.  Lovely.  Made a nice pork tenderloin with celeriac-tater mash, spare grass, and a little mirepoix+puffed quinoa salad on top, and for breakfast the next day, a grits casserole with chevre (Vermont Creamery, the stuff we had a school...  SO tasty), grilled oyster shrooms, radishes, bacon, parsley, scallions... I dunno.  It was pretty smangin' but I thing the flavor of the chicken stock was way too assertive for the dish.  Whatever, they want to know next time I'm travelling so they can come eat my food.  That's it, back to the Scotch.

Do you kids like magic?

Wanna see me make this Scotch disappear?

     What an exciting adventure!  Since coming home, I have only gone out with friends twice, helped watch my lung-cancery (great) aunt's decline progress, helped move her shit to the mother house in Monroe,MI (she's a nun, and they turned part of the massive, incredible complex into nursing care), and been witness to her apparently losing her mind.  Maybe it's the morphine, maybe it is a guilty conscience, maybe it is osmosis from being around people with lesser faculties.  She has been panicking in the mornings, and calling everybody, saying they need to come help immediately (from two hours away, during work), and then being fine.  Everybody here is running out of patience with this, and she is apparently convinced that all of the other nuns there are out to get her (or after her money, I don't know).  Wow, awesome summer so far for all involved!  It might sound harsh, but you might be a little too far removed from the situation to appreciate the bizarre twists the story has taken. 
     Some fun has finally been had.  I finally made it to 24grille with a resume.  The chef, who was sitting with his kids, nearly ready to go to their soccer game, came over to talk to me, an unannounced guest for about a half of an hour.  Then he asked if there was anything on the bar menu that I wanted to try, finally sold me on it on the second attempt, and I tried the game hen rillette which was a perfect little lunch.  He also said the he would take care of my beer, make the calls to get me in at any other restaurant I might be interested in, and offered to start filling out paper work to qualify the time I spend there toward my internship for school.  That could potentially save me a trimester's tuition.  Wow.  Amazing guy, great food, and I hope to be a part of that operation.  It sounded hopeful.
    Then today started with a frantic wake up, moms was downstairs tapping out a coffee dealie, and it sounded like someone was beating down the front door.  That was three hours after I got to sleep.  Auntie Blanche, who finally came up to visit her dying sister, was also awooked by them shits.  Next, at 9:10am, or five hours after falling sleepwisey, the calls from the mother house started, on my phone which got cut off shortly after the call started, with somebody telling me that Sr Mary is panicking and blah blah think the medication is making her paranoid, blah.  Well, I called back on the house phone, aunt Mary answered, and said that she needed my help right away.  Mind you, this is an 87 year old woman who can not breathe well and is having a bad trip.  She told me to tell my mother, who was at work and who was interrupted in a similar fashion the preceding day at her somewhat new job, that she needed to respond immediately, and to call George and tell him not to sign anything and not to come out there, and to call her as soon as possible.  Wow, what a fucked up way to start my day when I'm already sleepy and basically stoned on out of control allergies in a house with two cats.  Did not know what to do, talked and texted to the people I needed to, talked to one of the broads at the mother house, and she said aunt Mary thinks they are trying to keep her there (they are, because she needs constant care), and they are trying to prevent her from making phone calls.  The next one I talked to said everything was fine and she was just upset about her phone not working right, and IT is coming to check it out, and there was a problem with all of the phones there Monday.  Great.  Well, George had told me he'd call and get back to us, apparently he quit his golf game and went out there, somebody else cancelled appointment with a couple of clients and went out there.  I talked to another nurse from a different hospice about changes in meds and withdrawals from the morphine being a part of this mess, she said she would follow up with the hospice out there in Monroe, and everything sounded like I couldn't do anything about it and it might be weird junky paranoia anyway.  So I got showered, suppressed the feeling that I was ignoring pleas for help, and took Auntie Blanche Marie to the casino.
     I had dreaded the trip, even though I'd suggested it, as last time she was here, we took her to the MGM Grand and watched her zombie out on the slots for hours and refuse to even come to eat with us.  This time, mom wasn't there, she gave me fifty bucks to play with, we had a big-ass lunch that a really super-nice guy with a baby hand bought for us with his comps.  I tried a few different salads, about ten different things from the entree line (it was a classy-ass buffet, Palette), and probably seven desserts!  WOWWY!  AND COFFEE!!!  Then we waddled out onto the gambling floor.  I had some awesome luck with the machines I found, and made some horrible decisions while at them.  The fifty bucks dwindled a little, then I got it to a hundred, then it dropped, then I got it up, and down, and on another machine up to 110+ and then to not that much, got eighty dollhairs of my own out of the ATM, and slowly turned the full amount into about twenty cents.  The whole time, I was admiring the psychological process that I was participating in, thinking about how "now I'm just going to play twenty-five cents" win fifty cents, bet seventy five cents, think "here is a fifty cent donation to your facility" and just press on, thinking that this machine loved me the same way that I loved it, and we could repair this failing relationship if I just tried a little more.  I know that I should quit while ahead, and it occurred to me repeatedly during the process.  I take full responsibility for my actions.
     Next, the drive home started to resemble Gilligan's Island.  I wanted to see how fast taking I-75 from Detroit to Rochester was, got to chatting, wasn't using my phone's gps, as I know what fucking exit I wanted, I do this all the time!, and just didn't pay attention to anything but staying in the lines, and not swearing in front of Blanchie.  I didn't see any landmarks, and definitely didn't see the Crooks exit.  AB saw a Dixie Hwy sign and insisted that I was driving toward Monroe.  I was on I-75 SOUTH, g-darnit!  That was right, I even talked to my moms, told her what we were passing, and she said we were heading the right way.  I think that was after I'd already missed the exit.  We ended up about half way into the state before I gave up, got off (ooh!  another issue, the exits are like three miles apart out by Holly, MI!) and switched on the GPS.  We made it home, at some Thai, everybody else has since gone to bed, and I am now drinking Scotch, the effects of which seem to be amplified by my cat allergy, and thinking about running away.  I just hope to get back in the kitchen soon, and I am thinking about trying to tend some bar a night or two per week.  Now I just need to see what kind of mullet I can sprout over the summer, and hope the hissy fits and panic attacks stop with everybody.  Goodnight!

JUICE!!!!

Almost there!  Tomorrow is the final and, wine and mixology practical exams, then I will have officially completed a year of college.  Harambee!  Moved some more stuff out to my car, the truck is packed and there are a few dealies in the back seat.  Not sure how the rest of it will be managed, but I have 34 hours and 46 minutes to figure it out.
     Craig left this afternoon, not without difficulties...  I'll be sure to hit him up in the winter, after he completes his Disney internship.  I can't wait to hear how well he did or about how they kicked him out of the kitchen and made him work as a mascot.  TBC...  Still trying to figure out where trash goes.  They close the trash room a few days ago, declared a fifty dollar fine for leaving garbage in the halls or bathrooms (which has been ignored), and volunteered no instuctions or suggestions about where to take our refuse!  I initially suggested throwing everything out oh the window, but the decision against that was unanimous. 
     What else?  I got stationed directly across from d-bag Mike in the mixology lab, so I have to deal with him being a spazz, being very proud of himself, and watch him do everything very quickly and incorrectly.  I have watched him cheat, flipping though his notebook during an exam, and today he broke his glass mixer by scooping ice with it, which he has been expressly instructed to not do!  Being from Detroit, possibly the origin of "snitches get stitches", I have witheld this information, even when he told the teacher that it was because of the cheap glasses we use.  It is a quarter-inch pint glass, not a flimsy wine glass.  I am really tempted to talk to the teacher about this after class tomorrow.  I should also tell him about all of the cigarette breaks bad Mike has been sneaking off for.  Two withing fifteen minutes today.  He was supposed to have zero.  I really hope that if I ever see that jerk again, it is on Cops,  and he is resisting arrest.
     Some good news.  I tried out for the ICC team for next year, and got the spot.  It sounds like it will be a tremendous time and energy commitment, I heard one girl say forty hours of practice per week, but what an exciting opportunity.  They said it was my temperament and the way that I got along with the current team members that got me the spot.  I felt pretty good about the work I did at the try-out, and progressively better, and more confident about the job I had done.  My tourne still sucks, but I saw some that were just bigger around than pencils.  It'll look great on my resume, and hopefully get me functioning on a higher capacity.  I will be an alternate for skills, I learned today, but I feel like I should be able to catch my tourne up to the others by the end of the summer.  The first meeting will be August 23rd+24th, and I said I could probably figure out a way to get out here for that.  hopefully the train will be reasonable, or a cheap flight.  Last choice will be with Mega Bus.  I hate spending money to come visit so close to the start of the school year, but this is an investment that should have a return, and, depending on when classes start, it might be a pretty reasonable time to move back and get set up...  wherever I am living.
     Not sure where we are staying next year.  I would like to start a dinner club (supper club?) and have dinner parties with different friends hosting and taking turns cooking meals for whoever shows up.  Five or ten dollars/plate, maybe a cheap wine or beer, and just be awesome, and do awesome things.  The plan right now is for Brian, Han, David (another Korean... uh oh), and I to find a suitable apartment for the four of us to stay in together.  The issue is finding an arrangement everyone can agree on.  No big surprise, but there are an awful lot of tempting options with awesoome sounding people to just rent a room for myself.  These strangers would probably support having dinner parties, too, and there might be way less farting and fart noises to tolerate.  I would like to live very close, but that might involve looking up and down blocks here, instead of just browsing Craigslist (the real one, though I would like to see a list put together by the Craig Factor).  Brian and Nikki are going to check out something-something at Kent Farms (?) tomorrow at three o'clock.  I have serious doubts about a place where you have to rent the window unit air conditioner for the year as a seperate cost, and where there are only three bedrooms for four people.  I haven't really minded sharing a room THAT much, but how do you decide who has to share?  Is their rent cheaper?  Han volunteered to sleep in the dining room...  Not sure about that arrangement.  I feel like it isn't really worth sweating over until closer to the start date.
     So what is next?  Try to finish this class with an A+, which would give me a total of 8 A+s and 6 As.  If that doesn't work out, I guess I can settle for seven of each.  Then, show Lilas around PVD for a couple of days, race our cars back to PA and stay with Sharie for a day or so, and then go HOME!  Real home, not South Hall 207 home, where so many people have the daily goal of destroying the toilets and not washing their hands!  Once there, I will take a week to put out resumes at respectable restaurants, try to clean the house up, and the work my lil buns off for a few months, and try to pay off my credit cards.  Yay...  Then I get to do it all over again, and try to get an internship for next summer.  I think I really want the one in Hawaii, after talking to Mr. Weill about it.  He lived there for four years, and at dinner while we were discussing it, he just kind of leaned back smiling, and said "go to Hawaii."  I don't take a lot of convincing sometimes.  The New York or Chicago internship can wait until senior year.  I should swap this daydreaming for regular dreaming.

Kill me, Billy!

I had always assumed that the "finals week" nonsense I heard about was referencing stresses caused by deadlines and tests. I guess it could change, as there is a week and a half left, but so far, my distractions have not been related to my studies. My car shat in my lap Saturday, the day before my sister arrived. Instead of doing what I wanted, I waited for a tow truck. Later found out that the repairs would be costing me right around fifteen hundred shmollars. My rental car, which I was told repeatedly to just rent for the one day and extend it if I needed to, was a 2012 Altima. That was very nice. Upon returning the car, after having extended the rental, I learned that the $25/day rate was only for the weekend. During the week it is $76/day. Two-hundred and change for about two and a half days. By now, my butt is getting pretty darn sore. Had I known, I would have found a tandem bicycle to rent instead. Them yesterday after class, during which I got stuck with douchebag mike at dinner, Craig told me that GRA Abishek said that the drywall patch that has been here longer than any of us, qualifies as damage to the room and we will be charged if we didn't paint it for them. Silly me, I think that they should apologize for making us look at it all year. I totally understand why someone might have punched a hole in the wall in the first place, but I am taking the cheaper, less healthy route, and internalizing my rage. All of this is happening right before the ICC tryout Friday. Very distracting stuff, but it will all be over soon, right? This place and the inept half of the people who work here can all suck my butt, I've got stuff to handle.

I get it, everyone's better than me!

I wish I had kept hanging out with my old buddy Bill instead of shifting away and losing touch. That guy just landed in the zagat 30 under 30 list. That is huge, and he has been marked as one to watch. I realize that it will take innumerable hours of work, but there is a slim chance that I can break the ny scene some day. I feel like I need to hurry though, it was a sudden onset sort of concern. I just put together a cover letter for my resume, a plea for employment, and started considering my "options" and realized that they aren't options, I am an option. The supply could well be exceeding the demand for me when I get back home! I was thinking about trying to get in at slows, as my pal Ashley works at the Togo location, or did last I heard, as BBQ favors translate well to all other foods, in my opinion, and the technique, slow smoking over wood and charcoal, is a beautiful thing. Then I remembered fine dining. Fucking rich people stuff. Coach Insignia, Cuisine, Roast, this lil place called The Root that I read of not too long before coming out to PVD, Atlas- though I have no idea who is running that show now, Cafe Muse, Dirty Dog. Too much to process. All of this while studying pig and cow anatomy for meat cutting class. All of that while remembering the homework assignment! Aaaaah!!! Maybe I'll use Bill as the chef I look up to for that part of the paper assigned. That guy's got his shit together and knew what he wanted to do when we were sixteen. I might be able to catch up some day, but that is a hell of a head start. It is good, noticing how much more I could be putting in to what I'm doing, figuring out what direction to try to steer myself, or at least to look for direction, a path to clear. Easier to push forward with a good sense of navigation, I imagine, but as long as there is forward momentum, I suppose you just have to avoid the trees and othe metaphors. I'm glad we had this talk.

I'm not dead.

I'm not sure just how close it was, but the storeroom/purchasing+product ID grades went up 4/23 and I held on to an A. Now we are in meat cutting, and I am struggling to keep track of what is where on animal bodies and what they are called. I need to remember to do my homework, too. It is the same assignment that we got in our (my) first ever lab here at JWU, but two pages longer. Don't wanna. Craig has been watching an awful lot of Power Rangers lately. Quietly swearing to himself at his computer,because the videos lag and stall. If I didn't already know, this along with watching the same music video six times in a row (what makes you beautiful by one direction)would have raised a red flag indicating severe mental retardation. He came back from where-I-don't-know at nine-something and asked "you know what's good?" to which I replied "no." I generally hope that 1 question + 1 answer = brief, yet complete conversation. Maybe I'm retarded, too. "my quiz average is a fifty-five" he says to me. I laughed, because failing every quiz would be a major defeat on my planet. He proceeded to explain how he can still get a B+ in that class, technical writing, and that he is getting an A in sociology. This, if correct, is what makes me question the value of my grades. I feel like there are a lot of feel-good-because-you-tried, everyone-gets-a-gold-star-sticker-type grades being passed out here. I also know of one kid getting a C+ and being pumped, saying his dad won't think he's tarded. Whateva, my gold star stickers are still a four point, so I guess I'll take feeling good about what I've done, and enjoy it for another month.

Decisionsfest!

I keep deciding to dick around on produce and mushroom websites instead of doing the actual work that needs to be done. This is useful, but avoidant. Craig is snoring, and I might decide not to kill him. A major decision I am working on right now is whether or not I will transfer to a different campus in the fall. I hear that the Miami campus is pretty hood, and terrible, BUT the Charlotte, NC, and Denver, CO campuses look pretty great. Denver looks super classy and gorgeous, but is very far away... From anything I know. I dunno, but I want to see more. I need to talk to some of the chefs here, I think, and then a counselor. I would be coming back to PVD for junior or senior year, but I need to explore. I think. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. A st Vincent ticket, too, I think. ALSO the north merrcan beer festival is Saturday. Forty dollars for unlimited samples. Sounds like a great deal that could easily cripple my productivity. I think I'll save that money for next time, either junior, senior, or even sophomore year. We will see.

Get me out of here!

An idea has reemerged.  I am now exploring the possibility of transfering my education to Charlotte, NC for next year.  This was pushed further into the realm of real possibilities after an Easter weekend dining fiasco.  There was nothing posted to alert us to the fact that our dining options would be severely limited and many of us were surprised by this when Red Sauce just wasn't opened one day.  This weekend was no longer than a standard weeked here, just less populated.  Here, for my own documentation, and your reading enjoyment, is the e-mail that I sent to our school president:

Huh?

Craig, who is asleep, just said "maybe (he) should just leave (his)stuff here." I guess he means over the summer. He also said "wait, no that wouldn't work" and trailed off. He is getting up early tomorrow to go to meditation, for his sociology class. I don't know why somebody with such an empty head would need to clear his mind, but if it feels good, do it, I guess.

restraint.

I have heard it noted, that many young chefs lack restraint.  I should should either have a good handle on restraint or be restrained by the end of this year, as one guy in my class is trying to sell me an assault charge.  I really hope that he gets shot soon.  Hey, if it's going to happen, let it happen when it will get him out of my class.  It doesn't have to kill him, just let him run his mouth to somebody that will shoot him in the leg or something.  So full of himself, I can't help but wonder what it's like to be that awesome.  Please note, he has geared his commentary toward making my days worse, has a problem with almost everybody in class, and almost everybody in class wishes he weren't there.

I hope that he's one of the people Chef was talking about when he told me that our class was one of the worst groups he's seen.  He also thanked me for letting him vent, it was very cool to feel trusted by someone so highly regarded, as normally nobody would directly express how horrid a bunch of lunatics their students are.  I also was bummed to see somebody who cares and gives so much upset by these jerks.  He has to deal with these specific examples of what is bad in the universe for just one fifth as long as I do this term.  I thought that it would get progressively better after the first set of labs, but holy cow, was I ever wrong.  I was mad about the behavior of the group that I was in last time, but to be trapped with somebody who made it so clear that he is a douche bag on the first day?  Worse.  There are some very big egos in this place, many unwarranted.  I hope that I don't pick up any bad habits via osmosis.

Two more days of what should have been an awesome class.  Ruined by idiots and assholes.  The educations of the people that care and are competent and deserving are being compromised. 

I can't wait to go home for the summer.  I just need to line up some work, and a place to stay here in the fall.  29 more days of class, then I can take a vacation from this vacation/nightmare.  I'm not happy that I'm thinking about this dickhead and his influence in my world right before bed.  I hope he gets a flat tire on the way in Monday.

It was room 205!

I was kept awake later than I wanted to be last night by the sounds of youthful joie de vivre. I decided against calling safety&security, or going next door to yell at the kids in person because I thought that that would wake me up more than the sprinting in the hallway, moving furniture,yelling about redbull and do another shot, and moving furniture, and banging on the walls, and more sprinting, and slamming doors and slamming other things on the floor in the bathroom, and pool balls clacking around on the pool table. Being from beautiful Deteoit, Michigan, however, I am familiar with the "snitches get stitches" code. I'm in Rhode Island now, and these kids are acting like assholes, I will dime them out all day for keeping me up. Apparently the other things slamming on the floor was them tearing the two little plastic dividing walls and the tiles through which they were mounted off of the bathroom walls. Then they dragged them into the pool room and decided to make some more noise. I don't need that, and the school doesn't need to be beaten up any worse than it is. This act of destruction took away the only little bit of privacy that was provided to us. They wanted to watch everybody dry off? I don't get it, but I hope they get sent home to an old school ass whipping. Serves them right for not offering to share their booze.

Foxy or nots...y? That sounds bad

I want to see Foxy Shazam Monday. It is only thirteen dollars, not far away, and will probably be pretty awesome. So go, right? I tried to scout out the venue today. I did not find it. The show starts at 7:30, with two opening bands, but my class has been getting out around 8:30 lately. Lately meaning since we started this class. It sucks, I have felt like having more people cleaning than you need should get it handled more quickly since the beginning, but this is just not the case. Every time, it results in confusion. I don't know where others are in the process, steps get repeated, and very often I don't quite know what needs doing. Our teacher, Chef Lewis, is indisputably the man, he is not to be blamed for our deficiencies, and he is right to want his kitchen cleaned thoroughly, BUT, since the beginning of the year, the cleanup process has been largely unguided, and the result has become expected chaos. I want to gtfo in time to see some rock and roll happen, darn it! I also think I might give Amex another chunk of my future. I found a guitar that I want. I might have to sell one. I definitely have to sell some shit. Like bracelets. I couldn't afford not to buy them! So, in honor of Rick Santorum being an asshole, I have ordered the production of two-hundred of those popular silicone/rubber bracelets the kids are wearing printed with "Do Not Euthanize Me" in brown lettering that reminds me of Boogie Nights on a white, glowinthedark band. I'll be giving some away and charging five dollars for others. I will try to buy my new guitar with the profits. Maybe before they are made. It is a Hagstrom Swede tremar, for the low, low price of $425! I have not found the same product at all in the same specs, and the nearest was $125 more. I'd be a fool not to pick it up! I need to balance that with being an idiot for spending money that I don't have. Can't wait to see what happens!

Stupid is as stupid dumbs

"I need to see that test again," he said in the noisiest whisper he could find. "I believe the computer made a huge mistake." Bitch, you've been told before, computers don't make mistakes! I believe that you answered twenty questions incorrectly on your final today. Ol' Mr. Craiggles has just seen his test grade from this afternoon, and is quite surprised at how consistent his performance was. He is hoping for a D. He said that Mr. Provost told him that he can't grade them for trying. Craig thinks that is bullshit. I think that if you try to do something, and it goes horribly wrong, the end result is still garbage, and you should be graded on what you produced. If my food looked or tasted terrible, I would expect a terrible grade. Luckily, that is not how I operate. It isn't really "luckily," that shit is by design. What I suppose could be called luck, is that I come from a long like of smart people who are not avoidant of biological diversity. Inbreeding is not very sexy, and results in defects, which include dumb-dumbness, and compromised motor skills... and driving into an oncoming bus and not being allowed to drive without parental supervision. I, on the other hand, am the proud parent of a brand new baby A. My teacher-chef, chef Villarreal, told me to keep doing what I'm doing at the end of class today. I could not reciprocate with like advice. At LEAST two of us are dissatisfied with the way that the class went. For an appetizer today, sans recipe, I banged out some tasty carrot crepes, with a roasted mushroom salad, and puffed amaranth. It was earthy, herby, rich, light, and totally bodacious. This guy, who is grading us on our food, did not taste anything that we produced today. The only time that he has tried anything that we have put out was on our practical exams. That means that there was very little guidance, no suggestion of improvements,and holy shit, meaningless grades! In the class, Nutrition and Sensory Analysis, it was pointed out repeatedly that flavor is the most important factor on any plate. Then how in the world can you grade on aesthetics!? Others running around like crazy people, one confused to the point that he is convinced that he is in charge of the class, a couple of guys drinking kitchen wine during class, and the chef leaving two hours early twice a week leaving us with a T.A. Does not sound like what I'm paying for. Nobody is going to be as alert and effective as they should be when they are working doubles and taking graduate courses, and I feel like some of us deserve more than that. It is really nice when the T.A./babysitter announces that she is baking/pastry, so she doesn't know how to cook. Nice call, Johnson and Wales. I'm glad that I'm here, but I wish a lot of other people weren't. I look forward to wondering how it would have gone at CIA. I believe that I am at one of the best food schools in the world. I also believe that I am surrounded by some of the biggest egos and assholes to be found. There are people here who I expect will gain nothing more from their time here than motivation to work hard to pay off the massive tuition bills. I hope that Michael P falls down the stairs every day for the rest of his stupid, proud life.

Why don't nobody talk good?

I just finished editing agroup project paper and writing the conclusion. I am still blown away by the idiocy allowed by the school system. You hear people talk, you know what words mean, but you don't know how to make them work for you? Even, comma placeement! Awesome. In other news, Craig decided two days ago that he is going to get all hundreds o his quizzes. If they are graded on a fifty point curve, this is still a possibility. Either way, it is an improvement over the first two quizzes he took in this class, on which he scored 20%and 30%. His teacher told him that he is going to fail the class. Craig is now convinced (unless he forgot) that he has the same memory problem that his brother has. He can never remember the name of it. He is now takin fish oil, once, and some other supplement; apparently his mom has found a cure for retarded.

Damn these old ears!

I got yelled at by a kid in clad today. I'm not sure how much restraint I can really show. This was only the second day of three months that we will be in the same labs. He runs around so much that it can't be very effective, but I'm pretty certain chef Villarreal will assum that I'm lazy and he is a hard worker. Inefficient and hard working are good buddies. This kid is all elbows, there are sixteen people in the class doing the work of five, and I don't want to be in the way or trample anybody. I also feel like I should apply for a variance that lets me choke people out when they get out of line. We were done, I was washing or drying my hands, and I thought that I heard "did everybody get their knives out of the cage so that I can lock it?". Well, it isn't your jerb to lock the cage, but you really want to show initiative, great. I said "no" because I didn't want my stuff locked up. Then I heard that the question was "does anybody want to get their knives out" so that he could finish being so great. Assuming that I am clever or funny or something, I replied "oh... No" again. In response I was immediately scolded. "you'd better watch what you're saying, buddy." woah! I mean "woah, forgive me! Wow, I'm sorry." I think that I was overly apologetic in suc a way that others took notice. Now, I would never kill in front of witnesses, but sometimes luck should not be pushed. This should still be the getting-to-know-you stage in our relationship. I will make sure this bitch gets to know me. I am thinking that he should also get a nickname for the rest of the year, at least. If he calls everybody "bro" I think his name will be "baby doll" or something equally adorable from this point forward. Turds belong in toilets, not kitchens. Fuck that guy and his shitty attitude.

Hello there, chiiiildren!

I am not sure if we are even back up to half-populated here in lovely South hall, but the influence of the returning students is already destroying everything that I loved about break. Somehow, the floor drains in the bathroom are working in reverse, there is pee on every toilet seat, and puke in almost every sink. The room is flooded with noises again,light at night, and more noise; the rapid, never-ending clicking of Han's mouse was not missed, I only hope that it gets rhythmic enough that I can sleep through it. Having to tolerate others again has had me feeling exhausted and tense almost all day, while every other day this break, I have felt healthy and energetic. I hope that death comes quick.

take another week off.

   Yay, the kids are coming back!  I am already irritated.  This smug lump of shit, Marcus, has already been yammering on in the hall, loudly guessing at how many people are in this building right now.  Earlier, on my way out to lunch, he was leaning against the front desk, probably talking about how many or few people there were in the building right then, and gave the two finger wave, and said "hey, how ah ya."  That bitch isn't from New England, he's from New York, and he doesn't have an accent other than smug!  I need to ask if he is really so simple that his inflections are affected so quickly, because he's doing it on purpose and needs to shut up.
   On the way back from lunch, some fat old turd in a security uniform was pacing around where we wait for the bus, asking everyone if they were students, waiting for the bus, and demanding to see IDs.  Fuck that shit, leave me alone.  He asked me if I was waiting for the bus and I told him no.  "Oh, okay."  He took a couple of steps and turned back to me and asked if I was a student.  I confirmed that I was, and he asked "and you're not  waiting for the bus?"  I told him that I was and he asked why I'd said that I wasn't.  Duh, I wanted to see what would happen.  I was hoping that he would leave me the hell alone and go hassle somebody else.  It didn't work.  Apparently, when he's there, we show HIM our IDs, not the bus drivers.  I can't wait to see that plan in effect when there are 80 drunk kids waiting for the bus.  Next time, I will be addressing him as "chief" as loudly as he does to others, and informing him that I am not a student, but there to sell drugs.  I'll be sure to demand his ID, as I don't know who the hell he is; He could just be some pervert that found a security uniform at the Salvation Army for all we know.  Anyway, I will be telling him that I am selling drugs, not a student, and then hop on a bus, showing my ID to the driver, like I'm supposed to.  I feel like I should point out that I'm not really selling drugs, don't have a gun, and hold a 4.0 gpa with no conduct violations on record.
   I need to buy a lottery ticket.  More specifically, a winning one.  I want to find a way to get some distance between myself an these jackasses for next year.

Curse this Cursor

I am in a staring contest with something that blinks constantly.  By normal rules I'd have won immediately.  Now I am writing about procrastinating as a new way to procrastinate.  I need to churn out three more pages, worth 30% of my final grade in English Composition. I have been warned that tracings of my middle finger will not be counted in the final page tally.

This was written instead of my final paper

97% on cause and effect essay.  Two review sessions and maybe stop by to watch the delayed speeches for my communications class.  I'm not sure that we're supposed to, today and tomorrow are "reading days."  That makes me want my money back for the two days.  It translates into a five-day weekend two days before break starts.  Two tests, an essay, and a short speech away from Spring Broke and then it's back to labs.  Finally.  I think that I will miss a lot of the people I've been around in my academic classes, though.  It was nice having girls look like girls instead of b\the starchy, all white androgeny that is standard for labs.  All I have done for the past two days is watch Avec Eric, and eat terrible school food.  My knife callus is gone for the first time in almost eight years.  I hope that I haven't gotten weak and soft and forgotten how to cook.

thank you robocop.

I got an A on my wacky persuasive speech!  My class must have fallen in love with animal testing, finally!  Had I known how effective I was, I would have considered further a presentation on why they should all drop out.

Other topics presented included:

iPhone vs Blackberry

Jay-Z vs Lil Wayne

Why You Should Travel the World

Xbox 360 vs PS3

Voting (position on it was pretty unclear until the South Park clip was played that included Pdiddy singing "shake those titties when you vote, bitch")

Pitbulls ("since I was 12years old I've always believed in animal abuse," "temperment has nothing to do with the breed, it has to do with the DNA" and the text on the last slide was "Give a Pit The Chance Thank You :)")

School Uniforms (speeches for and against were given)

and my favorite first slide ever, the topic Astronomy vs Poverty, by the same girl who couldn't conjur the word "shucks" and said "aww... junks"

There was one on the negative side of dating.  She talked for about twenty minutes, played "MASH" and used a substitute for an f-bomb about one minute before there was a slide that had it typed out and she was reading "fuck my life" and using it in other applications.  It was hilarious.  she also played "why you asking all them questions?" for us on YouTube.  I had never seen it before, but it was a nice addition to the class period.


NOW there is one more short speech to give, one very daunting paper to press on with, a test in math that I am not ready for, and a test on genetics. Then we are finished with academics for the year.  I don't want to do it again next year, but I don't think that they'll just let me not.

those boots were made for knockin'

I am fucked.  The final paper for English Comp is 30% of our grade, and I'm still not clear on what kind of a treatmen I need to give it, just that it needs to be 3-3 1/2 pages explaining the educational system's influence on people's fear of admission of ignorance.  Fitting that I've not asked for help.

In other news, I recieved and e-mail today from the Graduate resident assistant, or whatever the hell his title is, addressing the fact that Friday night the plexiglass behind the desk was broken and nobody has come forward with information on what happened, and we're all going to get charged for it.  It probably works out to about forty cents/person, but still, fuck that shit!  The desk is staffed twenty-four hours per day.  Let the people that are supposed to be monitoring the situation pay for the stuff that they probably broke themselves.  I want my forty cents, dammit!

Paging Dr RoboCop...

I gave my speech today.  I don't think that it reflected that I had written my outline/note card during the preceding speeches.  I am also fairly certain that nobody doubted the credibility of my reference to Dr. Alex Murphy.  I just went ahead and put "Dr." in front of RoboCop's human name.  I couldn't find names of real doctors who supported animal testing to cite.  Also, somebody should make RoboDoc.

with his report complete, he should be ready to return to his planet

This will be reposted after the class has ended.  I do not want to know what retaliation would come of his paper being declared plagiarised because I posted the rough draft.  I am also considering usin a pseudonym on public forums.

So sad.

I don't want to advertise this for fear of coming off as vain, but I don't think that anyone has looked at it.  I don't as much mind coming off as crazy, as this would mean that I am talking to myself if this concern is accurate.  That's great.

caught on tape!

"It sounds like there's marbles in it" and "I feel like my head's empty" were outside of my timing and available storage.  Tragic.  What's more tagic is this blog's refusal to upload my nature footage of the elusive Craig Factor.

do not mention cannibalism.

Suspicions comfirmed, I did in fact make a critical error in talking to Creepmaster Daniel.  Today whe he showed up to class, pimples in tow, he sat right baside me.  Perfect, because now I was able to avoid eye-contact and since we were doing peer evaluations in a big circle, he should only talk when it's his turn.  Rather than that, I got to hear mutterings of "gang raped by banshees" during a review of a cause and effect paper.  It did not fit the context.  While discussing hazing, he started talking in a hushed creaky voice about how "they tried to haze (him) on two of (his) wrestling teams..."  I have never concentrated on anything harder than I did on what the girl talking about her paper was saying, whatever that was.  I tuned out whatever the creep to my left was saying.  There is a good chance that anything I dreamed up is worse than whatever he was saying, but what is the hazing like for a sport where you have to wear a unitard and fight with strangers while everybody watches?  What happened on that mat that made Creepmaster Daniel the monster that he is today?

research paper excerpts

Calcium Lactate is listed as “pregnancy risk class C”, meaning that one should always use a contraceptive when implementing this dirty birdy in the spherification process. Or that no controlled studies have been conducted to evaluate potential effects of calcium lactate on a fetus. As it is sometimes found secreted from ripening cheeses, babies should be fine with it. Babies love cheese.

When the hydrocolloids get together with their bath buddy calcium, the network at the perimeter of the liquid makes permanent its structure, gelling and lending discipline to what would otherwise be a puddle on a plate

In the increasingly popular Bizarro method, or “reverse spherification”, the calcium is thoroughly blended into the liquid to be consumed, and the hydrocolloid is dissolved in the bath.  The advantage to the reverse method is that with the hydrocolloid on the outside, the gelling of the contents of the orb cannot progress any further and the spheres can be held without fear of the liquid solidifying.  All that comes of prolonged exposure to the gelling agent is a tougher membrane.  In the case of reverse spherification, the finished product can be held successfully in an oil or liquid, or a pocket if you’re feeling bold.

nobody wondered 'bout nobody

We were told last week that our English class would be meeting in the Friedman building for Monday's class.  This is the building that the liiibarry in.  We have met in the libarry several other times without difficulty.  We were told that we would be meeting in this building and going upstairs to some little rooms that I had never seen before, and meeting one-on-one with our professor to discuss our standings in the class.  I'm at a strong B+, and she said that I can easily nab another A in this class.  That is a digression.  I went to the library, where I saw many classmates.  I sat down with a confirmed weirdo whos good side I would like to be on when he decides to lose his shit.  I immediately noticed that our reliably punctual teacher was not there.  I gripped up a Cooks Illustrated, read through it for a little bit and axed "is this lady here, or what?"  Creepmaster Daniel said "no" showed his prowess in the pause department, and continued "if she's not here in the next fifteen minutes I'm leaving."  Sounds like a plan, why wait?
Observing everyone's disinterest, I asked if anyone had checked upstairs, being careful to avoid eye contact, not wanting to provoke a charge.  "No" of course not.  Thank you for administering a "why would we do that/what is wrong with you" stare from those wideset peepers.  Holy shit, "uh, how do you get up there?" "You go that way, then that way then there's a door and then you go up the staaaairs."  It was just as clear with the gestures, so I ended up in some off-to-the-side office where a very nice lady gave me human instructions.  I went upstairs, explored the beautiful new playground that I was discovering, and through a glass wall noticed the long blonde '80s mop that belonged to our absent teacher.  I went in and was greeted more warmly than I expected.  "I take it we're not meeting in the library..."  "Nope, is that what you guys thought?"  "It sure looks that way, would you like me to go get everybody?"  Nah, fuck it, Matt, let's just bro it on down "would you mind?"  Of course not.
Back at the book place I grabbed my coat and annonced that we were supposed to be upstairs.  It broke my heart having to give them the news, the looked so darned happy.  I went back to the stairs along with maybe two others while the rest of the class, I don't know how many, turned the other way to see how many idiots could fit in an elevator.
The individual meetings, at least mine, lasted about thirty seconds each.  What makes me happy is seeing how happy everybody was not questioning the situation.  Our teacher asked if we head gotten her e-mail.  I had not, and I'd checked about eight minutes before class.
Ignorance being equal to bliss, everyone seemed to be totally ignorant without each other.  It's nice to see such a level of independence in people.

Puppy Bowl Sunday!

Everybody was very excited, in one way or another, about the Giants winning the Puppy Bowl today/yesterday.  I'm pretty sure that there were multiple cryers.  At least that and this proved the distractions I was looking for.  I did not need much convincing, I knew then the same thing I'll demonstrate now and probably forever; I don't want to do homework. 
   I'm glad that I was surrounded by a hive of eighteen-year-olds that give a shit about "things and stuff" and in a part of the country so catalyzed by the New York vs. New England match-up. 
   Craig skipped a wing eating contest because they were too hot.  They were just Buffalo and he didn't even try them.  I am convinced that he is allergic to bold flavor.  He also jumped ship on a raffle for an x-box 360 and I-don't-know what else because he doesn't need that stuff and had already lost the first two drawings.  There were two more, and yes, you have to be present to win. 
   I have been more constructive and decided to rebrand chicken wing eating competitions as "chicken eating pageants" or "meat-chugging expositions."  Pretty happy about that. 
   My resarch paper on spherification has turned out to be an abusive lover.  Key terms in expressing what happens when who does what to what and why it does this has lead me to a very long and numbing exploration of hydrocolloids (available here--> http://www.cookingissues.com/primers/hydrocolloids-primer/ ).  It is a website brought to us by some of the brilliant minds over at the FCI, one of the schools that I am destined to forever wonder if I should have attended instead of the lovely JWU.  I was put off by the 10,000 dollar/month tuition paired with having to find a place to stay in NYC.  That still would have been cheaper in the long run, as their program is only an intense six months.
   I also found myself daydreaming about what kind of classmates I might have found myself among at FCI. I assume that they are driven, focussed, and functionally literate. 
   I was just interrupted by my child-minded little buddy seeking reluctant advice.  "what does this mean?" 
   It means don't fucking talk to me while I have headphones on.  "I don't know" it's not my homework.  His teacher wanted individual portions.  The first thing on the page is "Yields 4 Servings."  "Divide everything by four" I says to him, I says.
   "Oh, I just divide everything by four to get the individual servings."
   It wasn't really a question anymore, more a mission statement.  "Yes."
   "Okay.  Thanks."
   No, no, thank you.  Thank you for the irreversible harm being suffered by my internal systems as a result of internalizing rage and confusion.  Think of it as homeostasis versus homo-erectus.
At least it was a few more minutes of neglect for me to show my paper. 

respect

"It's quiet hours, gonna close your door." The foot attached to an RA pushed the recycling bin propping our door open back into our room as the hand pulled the door shut as the mouth attached to the resident was saying "please and thank you."  That was meant to tell them to ask and/or wait for confirmation.  Who would expect somebody who is still wearing shorts in February (him, not me) to be so unpolished!?  This is an RA who, at one point, thought it was a good idea to casually divulge in my presence how offensive he found the word "retarded."  He stated that he himself has a "severe learning disability."  Fucking retard has probably let information like that get out before.  He's probably just being dramatic about ADD anyway.  Robocop and Robocop II were battling their epic battle, and some jackass retard is going to interrupt?  Somebody who's scholarship, for wandering around in shorts, opening and closing doors once a week, cancels out their cost of housing and gets them a private room is going to interrupt the glorious ballet that is Robocop II?  To hell with that!  Putting idiots in control sets a horrid and all-too-realistic example for the impressionable little dummies running around this school. Now they are going to learn how to get ahead by whining and snitching and being rude.  If anyone thinks that I'm going to take this laying down, they're right, because I will not stand for such injustice!  Also, it is pretty late, I guess, and if I don't get enough sleep, I do get cranky.  I still don't think no mental nincompoops ought have not range nor say over my behavior.

you idiot

"Matt, someone's having sex upstairs" Craig professed in a whispered yell upon my return from the bathroom.  "What?"  "Someone's having sex upstairs, I heard it" he continued, pointing to the cieling, like direction was the confusing part of the conversation for me.  "You mean on the roof?" I asked.  He continued to point, like I just didn't get it.  Nikki sat up, rephrasing my question, "Craig, how many floors does this building have, what floor are we on?"  The answer to both is 2.  He looked back, then returned to staring at me with those blank, retarded eyes, pointing at a cieling tile the whole time.  After about forty minutes of processing the situation, he finally blinked and said that "it sounded like it was coming from upstairs."  Then I heard the creaking of John Mayer and the acoustic tunes of a cheap bunkbed coming through the wall from next door.  He asserted "someone's having really loud sex on the roof."  At least he understood by now that this was not the actual case.  Hopefully.  .  Craig immediately declared "he lost it," snickering, "someone just lost it."  The John Mayer is still playing, or whoever the hell it is, maybe it's that new Curtis Mayfield tape, bass-heavy and deadened by the cardboard walls that I have to hear it through.  A soothing soundtrack to my dreamy night at JWU.

I am learn good!

   I felt alright about our test on cell structure, protein synthesis, lipids, diseases, and the lot.  I got a 95%, which is nice, then looked on uLearn and saw that the average score was below 60%.  I seem to have retained some of my best-guess-test-bless, but the babies seem to be stuck in a fat mess of forgetfullness, yes?  Not to devalue an entire group of people, by any means.  Some of them did very well.  As for the majority of the students here, I don't think that they have anything to worry about.  The massive debt that we are incurring should prove ample motivation to work hard once we are all out of here, I just can't wait to see what the dropout rate is after internships.

   Who would hire such a shite, lazy bunch?  No worries!  Every ladder needs a bottom rung.

  This observation should facilitate the next paper I have to do for English.  It will be the first cause and effect essay I have ever written, and the topic I have chosen is "homeliness."

   First, six pages on spherification are due in one week.  First-first, the math I need to learn for the test tomorrow!  ooooops

sewing the seeds of the citrus vegetable

The question was posed "hey Matt, is a lime a fruit or a vegetable?"  Brian immediately volunteered that "limes are vegetables."  I of course backed this information, stating that it was indeed a citrus vegetable.  Han confirmed as well.  Our faithful idiot then asked about green peppers.  I explained that technically anything that is the result of pollination is the fruit of the plant, but generally, green peppers are considered vegetables, though they are very sweet.  I can not wait to see what happens when he tells his storeroom/product identification chef that limes are vegetables.  To be fair, he was at his laptop and should know enough to look it up.  google "lime" and the second word that comes up is "fruit."  The saying is "fool me once, shame on you.  fool me twice, shame on me."  By now, everything that we lend our special brand of misguidance to, is definitely his fault.

how do blog?

Welcome to my head.  I will make this easy, I'm just going to share with you a review I posted on opentable.  I'm doing this because 1) it's easy, and 2) I'm lazy.  It will also expose you to one of my favorite/least favorite topics, my jackass roommate.  This is the review that I left for Gracie's, one of the most refined restaurants in the area...

Went for restaurant week with a couple of friends. One, a roommate at scool, is suspected of having a severe mental deficiency, and had never been to what we would call a "nice" restaurant. He tore through each course as though it were a timed competition, and when aske how he liked it declared that it was "way better than Olive Garden." I agree, it is much better than OG, and they have a 35 dollar prix fixe option available all year making fine food accessible. Very well executed. There was also an exploding champagne bottle to liven things up. I can't wait to dine with people more familiar with real food! Also, four different house-made selections in their bread service.

This is noy the finest example of spelling, but I blame the phone I was typing on.  Get it together, Apple, this is why nobody's buying your shit!