I want to be a pyro tech

Seriously, how awesome would that be? Playing with fireworks and getting paid for it! Take a moment and consider the bad ass factor.

In other news, one of these days I\’ll learn that sleeping with my hair down is a bad idea:

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This picture fails to capture what a ridiculous mess my hair is.  It looks like I\’ve had ridiculously awesome sex all night and had that been the case, it would have been worth the effort it\’s going to take to un-tangle this disaster. But no. That\’s a direct result of my tossing and turning all night in spite of getting high off my ass.  You\’d think i\’d sleep better, but no.

In other news, it was Jason\’s birthday yesterday. He would have been 32. He hated holidays in general and didn\’t like anyone making a big deal out of his birthday. My whole argument (when he was alive) was that had it not been for his birthday, we never would have met.  His birthday didn\’t suck as much as it usually does, I guess time really does heal everything.  In any case, I smoked a joint in his honor. I\’m sure he\’d appreciate that.  Which is exactly what  i\’m going to do when I get his ashes in the mail.

Yep, you just read that right.  The original plan was to have Jason\’s mom arrive with Jason\’s urn (or whatever he\’s currently stashed in), come to Canada and we were going to scatter his ashes along the peninsula in St. Anne\’s. Although knowing our luck it would have have been really windy that day and there would have been a ton of people out on their boats; which might have ended up in a disaster.  Especially if people were out sunbathing and covered in oil. Yeah it\’s morbid, but also kind of funny. Really. Think about it.

Funny unless you\’re the one who gets smothered by someone\’s ashes of course.    

I have a good relationship with Jason\’s mom. One that I\’m thankful for. So I thought that when the time came for her to scatter Jason\’s ashes, knowing full well that neither of us could come up with the $1500.00 for airfare; I\’d ask her to send some to me so I could do it on our behalf.  I didn\’t mention it, I wanted to wait until she was good and ready to part with his cremains before I said anything. A few weeks ago she mentioned that she was going to do it soon. I was hesitant to ask since it\’s a strange and rather personal request to ask of someone and possibly strange to some. Turns out that she wanted to ask me if I wanted some but didn\’t want me to be creeped out by it.  I\’m happy I asked and thrilled that she agreed that it was a nice idea.  Apparently she scattered his ashes yesterday at one of his favorite places, being his birthday and all. She promised to save me some so I could say good bye and hopefully get some closure once and for all.

I am however having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my close friends ashes will eventually show up in my mailbox in a Ziploc bag.  

 

Concussions, helmet\’s & porn…

Yeah I know, totally random. That\’s the story of my life and generally the theme of my blog. Unless you\’re new here, you know that already.  I have a habit of saying the wrong thing and it\’s usually not at a good time.  Or it just comes out wrong, it\’s a gift.

Not entirely sure where I was going with that, but anyway.  It\’s dawned on me that I should wear a helmet, with a built in sneeze guard.  Two weeks ago, I got sneezed on. In. The. Face.  Some of it got in my mouth!  Yeah I know, gross. It\’s a job hazard.  I thought I had dodged the sickness bullet…

Hell no!

I took that \’bullet\’ to the face, which essentially destroyed my Easter weekend.  Not that I give a shit about the actual holiday, however long weekend, a paid day off? Yes please!  I was excited, until Wed rolled around and by Friday (good Friday my ass!) I was contemplating throwing myself off of an overpass in rush hour.  I could see it coming and I was hopeless to do anything about it.  I hate, truly hate being sick.  I dislike being vulnerable in any form. Even writing that word makes me break out in a rash (OK not really but still…) but I still held onto the faint hope that perhaps it wouldn\’t be as bad as I anticipated.

It was worse actually.

I haven\’t been that sick since my early twenties and had viral meningitis.  Although I have to say, the fever induced delirium was interesting.  In any case, I was holed up in bed for the better part of three days, totally and utterly disgusted by the things that were happening to my body & what was coming out of it. I\’ve never used so much Kleenex in one sitting ever I\’m sure.  So anyway, as a result of said illness I had to say no to an invitation from someone because I was still feeling like a train wreck and didn\’t want to pass it onto them.

Wed rolls around, i\’m at work. Still sick, still rocking a fever, still praying for death…  I\’m hauling ass to tidy up my kitchen because we had a final inspection the following day and everything needed to be perfect.  One upper cupboard was open and i\’m not short…  I closed a lower cupboard and flung my head back and smashed the back of my head. Hard. My head was lopsided and did some pretty interesting things to the appearance of my hair.

I gave myself a concussion.  Not a bad one, but one bad enough that my Dr. threatened to give me a helmet deeming it medically necessary in case I gave myself a skull fracture.  So anyway I sent said person that I had to blow off some random text and I won\’t divulge what went down but it was pretty damn funny.  I felt bad in a way, but in the same token when you\’ve been that ill for what felt like forever, you take laughter for granted.  So I didn\’t get their response to said text until first thing in the morning, which I made the \’mistake\’ of reading while on the bus.  I started laughing so hard that breathing was a challenge.  Also made everyone on the bus likely think that I lost my mind or I was \’special\’ 😉  It made my day though, really.  Even thinking about it now makes me smile.

So anyway, I got to thinking about some of the conversations I\’ve had with said person and we got to talking about how loud some people can be during sex. I\’m not a loud person generally speaking overall. My ex roommate however was. So much to the point that once I actually threw a pillow into her room, while her and her now husband were having sex and told him to put it over her face…  So I said to him people watch too much fake porn (what I meant to say was bad porn, for the record) and i\’ll admit it, I\’ve watched my share of porn and some of it\’s really bad.  Although I\’ve noticed that there\’s quite a few common denominators when it comes to porn:

  • Some dude always has a hideous tattoo. Usually of the tribal or barbed wire variety.
  • Everyone almost always leaves their shoes on. WTF?
  • The nails. Seriously? There\’s some bad nail jobs going on.
  • Socks. Some dude almost always has socks on and once I seen a dude wearing socks and sandals in porn. So. Very. Wrong.
  • The screaming IE: OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME HARDER while dudes just grunt and say something lame like \’yeah baby you like that?\’

So generally speaking, chicks feel the need to scream and guys don\’t say much, if anything at all. So I got to thinking, if you\’re lacking in experience or imagination chances are you\’re watching or have watched porn at some point or another (aside from the whole visual aspect) for \’research\’ purposes. I\’d recommend not doing that, otherwise I might have to offer up a pillow to put on your face.

Life lessons, Culinary style.

When I was in high school, we had to write a credo for English class. Mine was titled: Everything I learned in life, I learned the hard way. I was a freaking teenager, what the fuck did I know?  Mind you, I had been dealt my fair share of shit in life at that point. However, looking back perspective and hindsight change everything.

I read a post by the lovely Lindsay  and I get it & I dig it. It wouldn\’t make sense to just anyone. Why? Because being a woman in a kitchen is a special kind of hell.  Although sometimes it doesn\’t always suck and this post reminded me of that.  While I met Lindsay during her stint at Concordia, we also worked together briefly. We played together in the kitchen once or twice at said job. In any case, it sometimes astounds me just how much my career has shaped me into the person I am.  Starting almost 20 years ago I got a job at Preston Pizza and that\’s where it all started…

Since then working in the restaurant industry has taught me a lot about life in general, never mind cooking. Such as:

  • How to have balls. Metaphorical one\’s.
  • How much guys are utterly full of shit and bravado.
  • How to be a complete and utter pervert.  Really, I\’m such a pig 😀
  • How to fix the most random shit. Chef\’s can fix just about anything.
  • That kick ass panties are pretty much the only reminder that you have left of being an actual woman.
  • Most restaurant owners are cheap, grabby perv\’s.
  • Adrenaline is your best friend.
  • Not matter how many injuries you have, you suck it up and still work your ass off.
  • Even though you think that you have nothing left, somehow, someway you manage to drag your ass through your shift.
  • Free beer isn\’t so free.
  • When it\’s appropriate to yell, scream and swear. Not cry. Ever.
  • When you hear you can\’t, you give them the finger and say:\”Fuck you! I can and I will\” And I did just that.
  • Humility. When to have it and when not to bother.
  • Patience. Lot\’s and lot\’s of patience.
  • That the higher end the place, the more people think it\’s burger king. I got news for you: You can\’t have it your way.

Among countless other things.

Sometimes I miss working on a line. Likely because I currently have a head injury but I miss the camaraderie.  As much as being a lone female among a bunch of testosterone fueled idiots sucks ass, it did have it\’s perks.  I found that guys who were threatened by yours truly were likely horribly inadequate in other ways.  I\’ve worked with my share of pansy ass bitches and upstaged my share of men.  I\’ve heard countless times that because i\’m a woman I would never make it in a kitchen and being a bitchy teenager, with something to prove; I became a Chef just to spite them all.  It added fuel to my fire and I found that most guys respected you for it, even if they secretly hated you for it.  Now that I work with an all female staff, I also discovered that I prefer working with a bunch of smelly dudes.  In spite of all the trials and tribulations that comes along with working in that kind of environment I have learned the kind of men that I don\’t want in my life and the one\’s that I do.

Even though being a Chef has fucked with me somewhat on an emotional level, I\’ve developed a thick skin. I can take criticism like a champ, and cook some bad ass food while I\’m at it.  The downfall of it all? Being a Chef sucks the girl right out of you.


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Facebook and

Why it amuses me occasionally (more so my mom\’s comment, I love her!):

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\"\" How it proves that some people just need to lighten the fuck up and enjoy something simply because it\’s fucking cute,adorable and THERE!  Instead of getting all pissy and practical about it.  There was a TON of comments about how wrong this was on the original posting thread and I too am familiar with the Mastif breed and they\’re big babies!  Sweet, adorable and super cuddly!  So lighten up already…  (Sorry John, I need to use you to illustrate me point :P)

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And on a final note, how it creeps me Right. The. Fuck. Out.  I almost didn\’t believe that this was real, or that perhaps Jason\’s account had gotten hacked or something.  I have ALL my notifications turned off and all my settings (safe for the odd post) are private.  I shared a picture on my wall early on in March.

The picture in question:

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Later on that night, I got a really \’interesting\’ e-mail notification (which I have never, ever gotten such a notification before & I have all this nonsense shut off…)  I got this e-mail:

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Which under \’normal\’ circumstances isn\’t a big deal.  FB is constantly fucking with your settings and constantly changes shit.  However, the reason this is so utterly disturbing? Jason passed away on Sept 3rd 2009. He\’s been dead for 2.5 years.

Apparently dead people have access to facebook too… Who knew?