Just Another Manic Monday

Ok so giving myself a blogging schedule hasn't really worked. I've missed like a week's worth of writing. So, scrap that. I'm just going to write when I feel like it. (I'm a woman, I get to change my mind whenever I want, for any reason.)

So the Roomies have gone to Florida with the kiddies for a week (to Disney World, hate them,) and as usual the list of annoyances since their departure has already piled up. First of all, the house is a mess because of Christmas, not that we actually did anything Christmassy here, just that they left all the gifts they got all over the freakin place. I already tidied up the basement which was littered with cups and plates and other dishes due to the copious amount of Wii going on down there. I opened the fridge today to see a half empty Tim Horton's cup on one shelf (cause you're still gonna want it next Sunday right?) and four day old KFC on another shelf. Not to mention various tupperware containers with what I'm guessing are science experiements in them cause they don't even resemble food anymore.

Revenge tactics: Smoke in the house for the next 3 days...then feel guilty and clean the house from top to bottom *sigh*

Saturday: Kitchen Confidential

I realized after I had already posted my catching up post that the last time I wrote about work I was still at the Italian Job. I have moved on to the Pub. It pays me less but I get more hours, an apprenticeship and I'm doing the kind of food that I'm really passionate about.

So I've been at the Pub for about 2 months now and I have a really interesting crew to work with.

Here's the cast:

Chef
Big guy, not mean, not nice, somewhere in the middle. Haven't quite figured him out yet. Has been spending alot of time modifying Xmas songs to tell the story of how our dishwasher is a fag. Doesn't mind a good fart joke, or a Jew joke (waitresses keep asking for more "Jews" {Jus}, I tell them sorry it's still in the oven.) Takes us out for Chinese every now and then and makes fun of my MSG intolerance.

FowWow
The sous chef. A 21 year old upstart who I went to culinary school with. I graduated almost top of my class...he didn't finish. Funny how life works out. He's good in the kitchen though. Slams back RedBull's like they're mother's milk. Thin as a rail, kinda squirlly, likes to joke around alot and give the dishwasher towel snaps. Works waaaaaay too much, calls me "Mom" when I point this out and ask if he's eaten anything yet today.

Junior
The other chick in the kitch. Also 21, good worker. Currently in culinary school. Also works part time at a bakery that's dairy and gluten free (where's the fun in that?). Is never on time but works hard when she's there. Is supposed to be next in line for FowWow's job (he's leaving in the summer) but I dunno, if she keeps coming in late Chef might reconsider. Is usually quiet but gets some real zingers in every now and again. I got her back for sure.

J-Bitch
#1 dishwasher. Tall, scrawny, just turned 20 this past weekend. Will do any bitch job assigned to him without much belly aching. Including lugging potatoes up from the basement, peeling them, cutting fries, peeling onions, cleaning the vent hoods, taking out the garbage etc. Works about as much as FowWow does and drinks just as many RedBulls. Likes to bet on things, usually stupid shit, the wager is usually a RedBull. Gets towel whipped by FowWow on an hourly basis.

Deeds
The morning guy. Think I've met him once. Always leaves his station a mess when he leaves.

Hut
Dishwasher #2, part time guy. Actually came from the Italian Job. Ok kid, like 18, big dumb football type. Doesn't like having to do bitch prep in addition to the dishes. Waaaay too quiet. That'll get him in trouble later.

Pedro
Hut's older other, dishwasher #3, also came from the Italian Job. Sucks ass at his job. Complains about everything, especially having to do any food prep. Is also slow as hell doing the dishes. Don't think he'll last long, to be honest.

T-Bag
Waitress that is nice as pie but unfortunately looks like a crack whore most of the time. Is actually pretty good at her job.

The Limey
Waiter, dude from England. Nice guy, but *shudder* a vegan.

Big-V
The Limey's girlfriend, a waitress (not a very good one), and an even bigger vegan, with big hair.

DMan
One of the owners and FOH manager. So far pretty much been a prick most of the time. Pretty certain he's got it out for me, he always has something to gripe about.

Special K
The other owner. Seems like a decent guy, stays out of the way mostly. Much nicer than DMan.

AllStar
Waiter, awesome guy. Needs to not order staff meals at 10min to close though. Could've strangled him.

HollyPop
Most awesome waitress ever. So good with everything!

HiDHo
Another awesome waitress, who barely gets any shifts though!

DannyBoy
Crappy bleached-blond bartender.

Gruyere
Awesome bartender, DJ and music writer that I've known for years.

St. Kitts
Every pub has that one awesome old dude that knows everyone, what they drink, and how much of it they want. That is St. Kitts. This guy is the definition of hospitality.

SmallFry
This little teenager who's been helping dishwash/bus/barback on the busy nights. Such a cutie, puts up with everyone's crap.

There are various other members of the "chorus", just haven't got nicknames for them quiet yet. They'll pop up eventually...if they prove to be of any interest.

Oh...I have a nickname too...and no...I didn't get to pick mine either.

Since I have such awesome curly red hair, freckles, and alabaster skin, I have been dubbed K-Dawg...cause I'm so gangsta...watch yo back yo. (wtf were they thinking?)

Financial Friday

I realize it's already technically Tuesday and I've missed like 4 posts, but I'm going to try to catch up anyway.

So for Fridays I've decided to write about money. Or my lack there of.

Being a college student and a cook, I don't make that much and the student loans run out pretty fast. Christmas is kind of a bitch. I don't have a lot of people whom I absolutely have to buy for, but I like to give presents and it bothers me that I can't always show my love through gifts.

Being a cook I have decided to put my talent to work for me in regards to Christmas. In year's past, before I went back to school and was working full time, I usually had a big Christmas party at my tiny apartment with a full-on Christmas dinner. That is obviously not going to happen this year, not only did those dinners cost me around $200-$300 to throw, I don't have my own place anymore so I can't really throw a party. So I've gone the other route and I'm baking cookies...lots of cookies.

It's almost 3am and I'm still baking cookies. Chocolate chip cookies, peanutbutter cookies and shortbread cookies. I haven't even started on the shortbread yet, that may have to wait until tomorrow.

So far, this endeavour has only cost me about $60. I plan on hitting up the dollar store tomorrow to see what sort of festive thingy I can put these in for all my various folks. Hopefully it won't cost me too much to get some decorative tins or something.

I really hope people will be happy with my homemade Christmas present. Who doesn't like cookies, right? But still, I feel guilty for not being able to buy "real" presents. Especially since some people have bought things for me (which I told them not too!)

Oh well, bah-humbug.

Thursdaze Schooldaze: Half way there

So guess what? TBear came over for a bit and suddenly it's Thursday, not Wednesday so I can write about school rather than relationships. This is good and bad. Good cause I want to bitch about school and bad cause Roomies have been bickering at each other all night and that would make a good post too. But it's 1:14am on Thursday so it's school talk.

So, I have commenced the first semester of my second year of Hotel Restaurant Management at St. Retarded. I also took Culinary at St. Retarded but that program was much better so I wasn't calling it St. Retarded back then.

A little history:

My first year in this program I realized very early on that I could get by with minimal effort. What I mean by get by is get straight A's. Yup, that's right a 4.0, without even trying really. Second year however, my motivation has dropped completely off the charts. Therefore no 4.0, but I'm still passing. Final grades won't be posted till next week, but based on what I have so far I'm not overly concerned.

Today I got up at an ungodly hour to take the bus in this vile winter to get to an exam for 8am. (All 8am classes should be outlawed btw...nothing should start until at least 9.) This exam was for the class titled: Hotel Management. Pretty self-explanatory right? You'd think the class would be all about managing a hotel, yes? Well no, that would be too obvious. I stopped going to this class well before mid-terms, mostly because it's at 8am (the only class I had that early) and because it's downright patronizing. My exam today consisted of fill in the blanks, short answer, true or false and a short essay. All of these things were based upon the various guest speakers who have come to the class to talk to us about what they do in the hotel industry. I went to one of those classes. I'm still not worried about the exam. Another small section of questions was based on the tour the class took of a major hotel in the area. I was asked, in black and white, how many rooms does this hotel have?

Seriously, I'm not joking. That was a question on my final exam for Hotel Management. Not only did I not attend this tour (I've actually stayed in the hotel, I didn't think it was necessary, and again, it was 8am, and I had a Dr.'s appointment at 9 that day anyway,) but I honestly think questions like that have zero bearing on my ability to manage a hotel. In short, it's complete bullshit.

The other thing I did today was hand in a major project. The project is for a class called Catering & Convention Sales. The project consisted of coming up with a theme for our school's yearly wine gala, including a menu, decor, all that crap. We (all HRM students) are told that the theme for the gala will be picked based upon how awesome these projects are, this is obviously to give us the motivation to put alot of effort into these projects (group projects I might add, BARF.) The reality is that a panel of select college higher ups picks the theme out of their ass every year. They've already picked the theme, it's going to be "Midnight at the Oasis" because they've never done a middle eastern theme before.

How do I know this? Cause I do. Cause I'm in the know. And because I talk to the Chefs in the culinary department on a regular basis and they told me lol. So, as you can imagine, I didn't put much effort into my project. Insofar as to not "present it" as in, get up in front of everybody with a lame and boring powerpoint and sell my idea to them. Why? I already know what they're going to pick. Oh, they might actually change the name to "Arabian Nights" cause that's what one of the groups is doing for their project, but it's still the same damn theme and all of our projects mean didly.

During my summer out east I met alot of other HRM students from all over the country. And based upon talking to them about their schooling, I've concluded that just about any other college in the country has a better HRM program than St. Retarded. But in the end, we'll all have the same piece of paper qualifying us to manage in a hotel or a restaurant.

Basically all I've gotten out of this program is a bunch of textbooks....that we haven't used. Oh, and I know a little more about wine than I did before, including how much I really don't give a shit about it.

/Fail

Yeah erm, whatever

So...not blogging for like two months has gathered quite a backlog of events (as well as a backlog of blogs to read for as you can see I follow quite a few other people's blog, or at least I used to. *snicker*)

I've spent the last few hours trying to catch up...trying to figure out where I left off too. I'm on blog I used to read every day number 4, I have 8 more to go...8 blogs, not posts that is. But I want to read them...cause I don't have a new book yet.

So, why haven't I been blogging? A whole lot of meh, that's why. Not that I've been in cryofreeze for the past two months, just completely devoid of any motivation to do much of anything except sleep, go to work and have sex with my boyfriend. You notice I didn't even put eat in there? That's because I'm on a diet. Not a real one mind you, not one I put any thought into, the one where I simply can't be bothered to eat much. I do remember eat something before I go to work though, which is good because otherwise I'm sure they'd find me passed out in the fridge.

Here's the update, broken into nice neat little categories.

School
Is over for the semester, thank Jebus. Took my last exam today and handed in my last half-assed project. Need to get my ass in gear next semester as I've barely squeaked by this time. At least some small effort is required next semester as I have to *cringe* serve in the student restaurant. Yes, more slave labour.

Weather
Fucking ass cold. It was like -15 today and I hate it. I also hated taking the bus in the dark this morning to go to my 8am exam. Winter is a cruel season. Very much contemplating moving to Jamaica.

Work
Still at the Pub, things were getting better, then they got worse, my work week starts tomorrow so we'll see how it goes this weekend.

Relationships
Still with TBear. Things are fine. Blissfully uneventful really. We've had a few little tiffs in the last three months but we've managed to navigate them well. Still having awesome sex, though there was a bit of a dry spell. Generally when things aren't going well for either of us in our respective jobs the sex life tends to suffer. But it comes back with a bang.

Family
Nothing really to report on this front, and there probably won't be anything to report on until March. Why? Because I don't get to go to California to visit my family this Christmas. Why? Because my boss is kind of a jerk, that's why. It's apparently OK for him to have a life, a family, kids that run amok around the restaurant once a week, and you know, getting to go out of town on the weekends, but I'm not allowed to have a life. I'm not allowed to go away for Christmas. Why? Because we have an Xmas party on the 19th (I could've changed my flight to the 20th), and apparently he "Can't run a kitchen like this!" even though I would have missed only 2 days of work really: Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, since we're obviously closed on Christmas Day. We might not even be open on those other days, I find out tomorrow. So yeah...nice eh? I guess the joke's on him though cause when I asked him when would be a good time for me to go to California to visit my mom and suggested March Break...he agreed, March Break would be perfect. I'm leaving March 14th, returning March 21st. What's smack dab in the middle of that? St. Patrick's Day. The busiest day of the year in the pub business. Oh well, he said I could go, it's been booked. No backing out now. Should've let me go for Christmas asshole. (And bah-humbug to you!)

Money Matters
Broke, broke, broke. Christmas? Hah. You're kidding right?

Life in General
Mostly meh. I'm unmotivated, depressed even. Can barely muster up the effort to get out of bed at a decent hour (earliest I can manage without something very important like work or an exam forcing me is 10am, and even that's a feat.) Have no projects on the go...my room goes from fairly cluttered to oh my god where did the floor go? on a weekly basis. My laundry piles up, gets done, doesn't get put away. I have been reading some books lately though. After plowing through Atlas Shrugged, I read The Nasty Bits by Anthony Bourdain, finished The American Nerd by Ben Nugent (which I started back in the summer), Firethorn by Sarah Micklem (surprisingly a page turner, need to pick up the next one: Wildfire) and The Year of Living Biblically by AJ Jacobs (quite funny, inspiring even). So while I haven't been studying for school, or doing my homework, I'm still learning lol. TBear is supposed to lend me The Rise of the Creative Class, so that one's next on the list.

So what now? Well, with school done for the next few weeks I have even more free time on my hands. And I need to get my shit together. Christmas is depressing normally, but now that I won't be getting my injection of California sunshine, it's even worse. So I need some structure to keep myself from hibernating for the next few weeks.

One of the bloggers I read: Chris Hoke is putting structure to his blog, Monday such and such, Tuesday this thing, you get the idea. And yes I'm totally stealing this from him (cause he stole it from others, and so on the so forth, no one has a copyright on organizing themes for your blog, get over it people.) But I want to try writing every day. Key word there is *try*, Yoda is shaking his head at me already. I know there will be days where I just can't. Like Saturday. I work from 11am till close, which can either be 11pm, 12am, or 1am depending on how busy we are. Not alot of room in there for writing. But I'll try to maybe write it earlier in the week and just post it on Saturday. Compromise lol.

So here's what I have in mind for my weekly schedule:

Manic Monday
Oh the craziness of life, what am I doing this coming week? What big things are on the table? If nothing, then general life talk.

Tuesday Review
I will review something, anything. The last book I read, the last movie I saw (Tuesday is cheap movie night here lol), a song, a picture, a painting, a blog. I'll have an opinion on SOMETHING. And it won't be just MEH.

Whiny Wednesday
Not just whining about anything mind you, I want to use this day to talk about relationships, my current, my past, the fat couple I saw on the bus today, whatever, but it will have to do with relationships. This also includes friendships and other kind of relationships, but not about work.

Thursday Schooldaze
The trials and tribulations of a college student. Fun! Probably not, but I can gripe about how dumb my program is any maybe get some help on the homework front.

I don't want to call this Freaky Friday lol, but I probably will for lack of a better name.
Since Friday is payday, I want to write about money matters, mine, other people's, good ideas, bad ideas, my friend's penchant for collecting coins. Something about money, even if it's just how silly the Queen looks on the $20.

Saturday: Kitchen Confidential
Kitchen Confidential probably is copyrighted....probably by Anthony Bourdain, but I don't think he's going to come after me with his meat cleaver, he's too busy eating bugs in Indonesia. This will be my day to write about my kitchen adventures, and work in general. You might even get a recipe out of me, we'll see. Be warned: I complain alot, this will most likely be a weekly bitchfest.

Sinful Sunday
Since I just finished The Year of Living Biblically I thought it would be fun to post about which sinful activity I think I highly excelled in that particular week. I might do a seven week stretch of the seven deadly sins. Or I might talk about what I think is bad in this world (or good, with bad consequences.) I don't want everything to be negative though, I might talk about how sinful my dessert was that day, whatever, something to do with sinning. I sin a lot, most without much guilt as I'm not Christian, and I generally believe in Karma therefore I'll get what's coming to me for lying to my Prof today about why I was late for my exam lol.

So that's it for now. It's almost midnight and TBear is supposed to come over at some point so I might not get to my Whiny Wednesday post. Though this post is probably pretty whiny anyway.

Cheers.

*Afterthought:
Blogger spellcheck does not recognize the following words: Meh, cryofreeze, could've, should've hah, th when attatched to a number, bloggers (ironically), biblically (which I checked, that's how it's spelled on the bookcover), alot, bitchfest, and lol. Kinda funny.

Living Like A Rock Star

I am a cook. I am on way to becoming a chef...eventually. Unlike in the good old USA, in Canada you can't just go around calling yourself a chef after a few years at a culinary institute. Nope, you have to do a bunch of other crap after said culinary institute.

Whilst doing that bunch of other crap (normally called an apprenticeship) you pretty much live like a rock star. Not in the way you might think though. There is no tour bus, there is definitly not alot of money, but there is a lot of sex, drugs and rock n' roll. As little or as much of it as you want.

If any of you out there have had the pleasure of reading Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain then you know what I'm talking about. There was also a short lived TV show of the same name based loosely upon the book. It was an awesome show, only the TV gods know why it was cancelled. If anyone has seen the show, I'm somewhere between the creepy baker and the kick ass chick (except I don't cry...that part was so unbelieveable.) Haven't really decided which way to go on that one.

The life of a cook usually starts around noon-ish. Depending on how much you drank last night and what time your next shift starts. My shifts usually start at 4pm, so I try to be up around noon, get some stuff done, get all showered and at least semi-pretty and head out (on the bus of course, because cooks don't get paid enough to own cars.) So you arrive at work, usually to find that the lunch crew has left your station a total mess and there's a bunch of prep to do. If you're lucky you might work in a kitchen where people actually clean up after themselves and the owner is actually concerned about little things like health inspections, I however, do not work in that kind of kitchen.

I clean my station, do my own prep and if I have some extra time (which I usually do) I go find something to clean or organize. Cause I can't F-ing stand it. Cleanliness (as discussed in previous post regarding Roomies) is very important to me, and it's very important in a working kitchen as well. There are all sorts of nasties that can get into your food. There is also the disorganization, which I also can't stand. My first shift at this new job, I pretty much reamed out the owner for running such an aweful set up. Surprisingly he asked me to come back the next day. I just did my 3rd shift there last night. I've taken to making sure my station is F-ing spotless and the other stuff I'm going to do little by little every day until it's all freakin' shiney.

So what do I cook? Pasta, pasta and more pasta, and the occasional sandwich or hot appetizer. It's bloody easy, but we haven't been too busy yet so knock on wood. The last few nights I've gotten off around 10pm, perfect timing since this is when people usually start showing up at the bars. It also helps that one of my favourite pubs is right down the street. Strongbow here I come. So it's work, drink, sleep, repeat.

I drank a little too much last night though, and have succeeded in screwing myself for any chances of productivity today. And I have like 4 projects due this week for school.

But that's the rock star life.

Why I Hate Humidity

Ok, so there's many reasons why I hate humidity. It messes with my very curly, very red hair and no amount of product will get it to look normal. I walk outside and am instantly sticky and gross. The air is hard to breath. And oh, yeah, the worst part, I get pressure headaches.

This last one was a douzy. It started Monday evening, the air was pregnant with precipitation but it just wouldn't rain. It spit on us a bit, but the downpour would not come. I thought the night would bring some relief, get some sleep and it will go away. Not so lucky. I woke up Tuesday morning with the same incessant throbbing. Considering we were supposed to be doing sniff tests in my wine class that day, I decided to skip school and lay in bed. Got up, had some breaky, you'd think that would make it better but no. Took a nap, nope still there. Got off my butt and went to the baking lab I'm a TA for. Maybe the smell of freshly baked bread will help, um no. Get home, not really tired, headache is still nagging. Maybe a late night walk with TBear for some Timmy's will help? Yeah...a little...but it was the calm before the storm.

No, I don't like taking a bunch of unnecessary pills for a little pressure headache. It really wasn't that bad, just a persistent little bugger, so I didn't go on the hunt for any meds. That was apparently a mistake.

5am this morning rolls around and I wake up in excruciating pain. My head feels like it's going to explode, my stomach is doing flip flops, my not-so-great-as-it-is vision is blurry and I generally feel like I'm going to die. That's right folks, got me a migraine.

So I stumble out of bed and start searching for some meds, Advil, Tylenol, Aspirin, anything that will at least take the edge off. (I was prescribed actual migraine meds a few years back, but they're way to expensive so I never filled the Rx) I find a mostly empty bottle of Advil and down however many pills are in it (probably like 4) then stumble back to bed, assume the fetal position and try to get back to sleep.

Around 7am the sun comes up, my blinds do nothing! I hide under the covers trying to find some peace in my throbbing little world. Finally I fall back to sleep...sweet oblivion.

I woke up around 1pm (no I did not F-ing go to school today either, piss off), intense pain, gone, nausea, replaced by hunger, general mood...I don't feel like doing fuck all. Migraines take it all out of me, energy, drive, motivation...it takes it all. I barely mustered up the energy to make a cup of tea.

So, here I am, devoid of any energy or motivation, bored out of my gourd. I know I should do my school work, I know I should tidy my room and put my laundry away, I know I should do my work-out, I know I should take a shower and not be a ragamuffin...I also know that I just bought Sims3 and that cancels out any chances of productivity.

Scool Prepares You For Real LIfe...Which Also Sucks

Ack! It's been a while since I last wrote. Which I feel kinda bad about, now that I have 9 followers. Nine people like reading about my life, that's astounding. I'm actually quite boring and I don't write very well, you guys sure you don't need to get your heads checked?

I've been kind of busy lately. I say kind of because it hasn't been school or work or anything like that which has kept me from blogging. I've actually had plenty of free computer time where I could've written something. I just plain didn't feel like it. Mostly because the last few weeks have been pretty happy for me. When I'm happy, I don't feel the need to write as much. So here's what I've been up to.

I've been dating. LOL. I know, I said I wouldn't date anyone for a while. Men were to be Meat Sticks and Meat Sticks only. The Universe apparently didn't like that too much and has sent me a decidedly non-Meat Stick kind of guy to spend my time with. So what happened to the Meat Sticks then? Well Ata Boy hasn't been in touch in about 2 weeks, and GothBoyBand as well. I haven't got the time or the energy to chase boys (besides I don't chase boys, boys chase ME), so meh, oh well, you don't call, I don't answer.

So who's this non-Meat Stick then, you ask? We'll call him TBear. Nice guy, known him for a while, actually went to high school with him but didn't know him back then (he was all fat and nerdy lol). He's been on the periphery of my many circles of friends. He's good friends with my GirlRoomie, stood in her wedding and stuff, but he and I never really hung out much. Except when, and here's the funny part, he would come by occasionally to drop something off to GirlRoomie and if I was home at the time, we'd end up spending hours out on the porch just talking. About life in general. The conversation was never forced, never awkward, never held any of that sexual tension or anything like that, so I just thought, "Oh, what a nice guy," without having any intention of having any naked time with him.

Until recently. He came by about two weeks ago now to drop something off and we ended up out on the porch for a good 5 hours, just talking and laughing and having a great conversation. Then he came by the next day with a new BlackBerry case for me (my old one was torn to shit and he just happens to work at the Telecommunications store). So another long conversation ensued. We both chuckled at how the time seems to disappear when we get to chatting, and I suggested that we actually schedule some time for our conversations instead of him just popping by and poof! there goes the day.

So we did. And we ended up staying up all night. And I mean ALL night, till 7am. JUST TALKING. He never made a move, and neither did I. I was trying to gauge the situation. Was he attracted to me? (Well DUH!) What was he looking for? What does this mean? *gulp*

We ended up going out on a decidedly non-date. Just pints at the pub, no biggie. Then it became a date lol. Cause I kissed him, and he kissed me back and well, that was the end of speculation on whether or not there would be naked time. There has been lots of naked time in the past two weeks (and it's AWESOME btw.) There has also been a lot of talking time, and listening time, and tickling time, and chilling time, oh and an actual date in there too. Yes, a real grown-up date with dressing up and a fancy dinner. He wore a tie, and a jacket, and freakin' cuff links. I nearly died. He opens doors, pulls out chairs, offers me things before he has them himself. We take his dog for walks around the neighbourhood (he lives a few blocks over). He doesn't embarrass me in the least, and he has told me the same. Which, in listening to each other's stories has been a problem for both of us in the past: being embarrassed by the people we're dating.

So, when's the wedding? You're probably wondering. Well, this is the weird part. We're obviously perfect for each other (did I mention he's got a university degree in History?), we're very much alike in all the good ways (he said he'd never met anyone who had as many books as he does, until me!), we're different in all the right places (he's so preppy it's adorable, I'm all alterna-goth-chick), we totally bounce off each other (he has woken up my passion for fashion, I've inspired him to pursue more courses in academia), and the sexual chemistry is off the charts!

BUT--and this is a big BUT. He says he's not interested in being a "boyfriend." And at the same time, he wants our relationship to be monogamous. HUH? Basically you want all of the privileges of being my boyfriend without actually being my boyfriend. I find that kind of weird, and a little frustrating. Now I didn't want a boyfriend to begin with. Not until I started spending time with him. Now, I have no problems with someone not wanting to be my boyfriend, that's fine, really. But not being my boyfriend and then telling me I can't go play with the other boys in the schoolyard? That's F--ed up in my mind. It doesn't make much sense to me. He went on to explain that he just doesn't want the "expectations" that come with the "label." Un-huh...what expectations? I'm not sending out wedding invitations here buddy...I'm possibly going to the middle east in the spring and then possibly Scotland after that...not looking for a big commitment here. Anyhow, he talked about the "expectations" he's had to live up to with previous girlfriends and blah blah blah. I'm not those girls, and I tried to explain that. But he's not going to "get" it until he sees it for himself, I can totally see that. That whole conversation arrived at an impasse.

So I don't have a boyfriend, I have a TBear non-Meat Stick, and I'm not sleeping with anyone else.

Perceptions

"The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend."
~Henri Bergson

Had an interesting night last night. Went out for my "Welcome Home" party at the bar I frequent. Ata Boy was there, of course, cause he's always there. GothBoyBand was also there, cause well, he's usually there on a Saturday night as well.

GothBoyBand and I used to date, like 4 years ago. And I mean actually "date." Like he would pick me up, we would go out for a meal and some kind of entertainment then go back to my place and well you know. He was never my boyfriend, I knew better lol. He's not boyfriend material, never has been/will ever be. Case in point: He dumped me for a stripper. Not even really dumped, cause we weren't "together", he just stopped calling, and I knew why. It was fine, I had other prospects, and though it still stung a bit (of course, it always does), it was no biggie. I knew he was just being who he was and that's fine. But it was a little odd considering who I am, how I am, and that we had a good time together. His friends were...less than impressed. Which is always a good sign that you're doing something fucked up right? They hated her. They liked me lol. Simple as that.

But I digress...I just wanted to give you some background. So I haven't tapped that for about 4 years, haven't even really stayed in touch much. Just the usual "Hi, how are you?" at the bar. And that was fine, I didn't have much interest in going back there since I was all in relationship mode and whatnot. Now that I'm not however, different story.

So, I dragged him home and well, you know lol. And it was great. Even slightly improved from my memory. Improvements are always a good thing. Conversations insued afterwards. Odd conversations, but that's my fault.

I'm very curious, and I have a need to understand things, and people. We were talking and I started asking him questions, kinda deep questions, the kind of questions that delv deep into someone's character and help you to understand them as a person. Maybe I shouldn't be asking these questions of someone I would consider just a FB, but nonetheless I was asking, and he was answering.

Until at one point, he contemplated his words way too long. I asked him what the hold up was and he said that was afraid his answers may change my perception of him. Now, he doesn't have a clue how I perceive him, at least, I don't think he does, or else he wouldn't be concerned with my perception of him. I offered to tell him exactly how I perceived him to be, he declined. How typical. Anyhow, I eventually asked how he perceived me, because well, I'm curious like that. I had to rephrase the question a bit to get him to come up with an answer:

"If you had to decribe me to your best friend, what would you say?"

I got an interesting response. He elaborated.

I was a bit taken aback actually. Not because his perception was negative, but because it was pretty bang on. Not totally, that's impossible, but wow, ya I didn't expect that.

That in itself has changed my perception of him somewhat. I think I need to give him a little more credit, and not dismiss him as just a piece of meat.

He's still a bit cocky for my liking, and he's still not boyfriend material. But I have no problems perceiving him without his clothes on for the next little while and possibly showing him how right his perception of me really is.

Addendum: While proof-reading this I got the oddest sense of Deja-vu. Like I've written this before...but I know I haven't. Maybe I just need to stop going back to guys I've had in the past...even if they are amazing in bed.

Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

I live with two roomies, a couple, GuyRoomie (Approx. 35yrs old, divorced 2 kids), and GirlRoomie (25 not quite divorced yet, no kids). And they are SLOBS.

I've been gone for 4 months. You'd think they would've cleaned the downstairs bathroom at least once while I was gone. No such luck. There was actually MOLD growing in the toilette. Freakin disgusting.

Since I've gotten home, I've spent a lot of time cleaning. Now I'm not a neat freak by any means. I have a small bedroom and it tends to be a bit cluttered. I can be untidy, I leave my school stuff and jacket lying around from time to time. I am not DIRTY however. While I can live with clutter and untidiness I cannot live with DIRT. Dirt is my enemy.

So the Roomies are at the cottage all week which means that thankfully they are not undoing all of my cleaning efforts. However, they have neglected some things far too long (ie downstairs bathroom.) In fact I was horrified when I opened the dishwasher on Tuesday to find it full of dirty dishes. They left for the cottage on Sunday. SERIOUSLY!?!? Who leaves the house for a week and leaves dirty dishes in the dishwasher?!? And not just a few cups and a plate, no it was FULL. It was ready to be turned on, just needed some soap and turn the dial. Like WTF people? What the hell is wrong with you?

Since I've been home I have cleaned my room, which my Roomies thoughtfully left open to the two cats for the past 4 months (I'm allergic btw), the downstairs bathroom (which I am the primary user of) and the kitchen (including the microwave which I don't think has EVER been cleaned,) the stovetop and the floor. I would very much like to tackle the oven (freakin gross man!) but I lack any EasyOff at the moment, and the fridge but I'm afraid if I throw anything out the Roomies will get mad at me. And I'd like to tackle the front room, but unfortunately the big table which is in there is covered in their stuff and I have no idea where to put it.

So I have a dilemma. I want to talk to the Roomies about this. About how it's driving me nuts and how I seem to be the one doing major clean up every month or so because they can't be bothered to just do a little bit every day and how I'm not the one who cooks and leaves food out (they left food int he crockpot for a week once, A WEEK!), or dirty dishes etc. I'm not the one who piles boxes of empty beer bottles on the back porch, and I'm not the one who forgets EVERY WEEK to put the garbage and recycling out. And don't even get me started on the state of the back yard! (You remember in Jumanji when the vines and trees start growing in the house like everywhere? THAT'S what the backyard looks like!)

However, GirlRoomie owns the house. It's her house and I'm just a tenant. It's probably not kosher for me to tell her how to live in her own house. But the honest truth of it is that I don't know how much longer I can stand this and I may have to move out if things don't improve. And I know how much she likes my rent money. In addition to that, their uncleanliness is going to make them and me literally SICK. Not to mention GuyRoomie's kids that spend the weekend here every so often. There is MOLD in places where there shouldn't be MOLD. We have an ANT problem (duh). And there are so many DUST BUNNIES and cat hair TUMBLEWEEDS around I want to wear shoes all the time. Not to mention that the cats track kitty litter granules all over the place. It's GROSS! I HATE IT!

How do I bring this up tactfully without pissing them off? How do I get my point across without flying into a rage? I cannot just let it go and do nothing! I will go insane!

Essential Manners for Couples

Manners, a relatively simple concept that hardly anyone in this day and age seems to understand. Being polite and having good manners is something I value very highly in everyone, especially the opposite sex. My patience was tested just yesterday.

Ata Boy came over Tuesday night. He left Wednesday morning. Saying that he would be back later on that evening after I had finished my unpacking and cleaning to hang out watch movies and eat pizza. The day goes by and suddenly it's 7pm. No Ata Boy, no phone call, no Facebook Message, no MSN message. Hmmm. Interesting. Now, Ata Boy's cell phone is out of commission at the moment, except for the Wifi feature, which means that he can get onto Facebook and MSN any time he wants, but he can't call or send text messages.

Well 10pm rolls around and me, pissed, and a little hurt, gives up and goes to bed. Thursday rolls around, still no message from Ata Boy. Late Thursday evening, I finally get word from him, the usual "Oh sorry..." When asked why he stood me up and didn't bother to call I got the usual BS about his phone being dead blah blah blah. Cause you don't have a quarter to use a pay phone? Cause every single person you know doesn't have a cell phone that you could borrow for 2 minutes to make a quick call? SERIOUSLY? And Hello! What about Faceook and MSN?

Manners lecture ensued. And I told him quite frankly that I was not joking when I had suggested that he read this the other day:

Essential Manners for Couples by Peter Post.

Now Ata Boy and myself are NOT a couple. However, he desires to be, and frankly I won't spend any time with someone if they do not have the basics of common decency down pat. (A Major one of those is if you make plans and then you can't make it, you HAVE TO get in touch with the person. Otherwise you're just being rude and hurtful.) I have, therefore, chucked the book at him and he better damn well read it and smarten the fuck up. (Exact quote from his chastisement.)

This book is awesome, yes I've read it and as well as being very informative, it's also hilarious. It goes through all of the common troubles that couples have and the advice contained therein can be applied to all aspects of your life, not just your dealings with your significant other. I suggest that everyone read this, maybe then the world will be a little more polite.

As Emily Post said, "It really doesn't matter whick fork you use; it matters that you use a fork."

Homeward Bound

Home is where the heart is. Home is wherever you lay your head. home is where mom's house is. Home is where you grew up. Home is wherever you end up. Home is where your stuff is.

To me, home is where it SMELLS like home. I know it sounds weird. Home has a smell? Yes, it does. And I haven't smelled it in nigh on 10 years now.

What does home smell like? I really couldn't tell you. I don't have words to describe it because it doesn't smell like anything else. It just smells like home.

If I haven't smelled it in 10 years, how will I know it when/if I find it again? I don't know, I just will.

Smell is linked to memory in the most profound way. I remember what home smells like, like I remember someone's cologne. And just as when I smell that particular cologne and I remember that specific person, so it will be when I smell home again. My memories will come flooding back.

I've called many places home over the past 10 years. But only one has come close to my olfactory memory. I have lived in 7 different apartments in the past 10 years. All of them had a particular scent.

There was the first one. The two bedroom with hardwood floors and that bathroom so small you could take a leak, wash your hands and shave your legs in the tub all at the same time. (Can't say I ever did that though.) It was on the seedy West side, a block or so from a strip joint and behind one of those little Asian markets which contained untold wonders inside. It smelled like stale cigarettes and age. I moved to the apartment next door after a little while. It was cheaper, being a one bedroom. There was a leak in the ceiling inside one of the kitchen cabinets. Water from the apartment upstairs would trickle through a leaking pipe, filter down through layers of insulation and most likely asbestos to be collected in a little bucket and disposed of daily. Because of this the whole place had this sticky-sweet scent, musty and damp, and utterly gross. There was also a mouse, which lived quiet happily thanks to my ineffectual cat.

Apartment number three was down right rank. My aging dog who ate anything you happened to leave lying around (including pop cans, I think she thought she was goat trapped in a dog's body) was responsible for that. Fourteen year old dogs have the bladder and bowel control of new puppies, without the cuteness. I did my best, but it was quite rank.

After a few months of that and the inevitable death of my beloved childhood pet, I moved into a small one bedroom basement apartment. Small is an understatement really. My friends on the taller side of the spectrum had to duck in many places and my boyfriend couldn't stand upright in the shower.

After the little dungeon, I moved into the tower. I took the loft bedroom on the 3rd floor of a duplex which my FakeBro and his wife lived in. They were having money issues and had the extra space so I moved in to help them out. Me and my 4 cats. Living with their 3 cats, 1 dog and various other caged animals. My room did not smell good. 'Nuff said.

The tower made way to the walk-up. A very tiny 2 bedroom on the 3rd floor of a 100 year old building...with my boyfriend at the time. Who had a lot of stuff so I had to get rid of mine of course. That one smelled of food, all the time. Which was my fault of course cause I was cooking constantly (I was in culinary school at the time.) That place smelled awesome! But not like home.

The latest place I call home smells pretty good most of the time. I share a 3 bedroom house with my GirlRoomie and her boyfriend. My room smells like sandalwood, cause I burn the stuff all the time. The kitchen area generally smells like whatever vegetarian mush the Roomies are cooking (or had cooked 3 days ago and left out on the counter, yeah, they're slobs.) It's not tooo bad, but still not a winner.

The only one that came close was the tiny basement apartment. I was there for quite a while and though it was small, it was cozy.

It invariably reeked of me.

How I Spent My Summer...Eating a Shit Cake

Shit Cake

Yield: One Fucked Up Life
Prep Time: 10 months
Bake Time: 4 months
Indigestion: Guaranteed

Ingredients:

1 Douchebag boyfriend
1 cup Love
1/2 cup Future dreams and aspirations
1 crappy resort town
2 Annoying co-workers
50+ immature, loud, obnoixous housemates
1 awesome job back home that I love
1 really nice boss that I'm mad at now
1 thieving asshole


To Bake the Cake:

1. Combine 1 Douchebag boyfriend, 1 cup of love and 1/2 cup future dreams and aspirations. Mix well. Bake.
2. Remove cake from oven and let cool. Remove cake from pan with help of Douchebag's other girlfriend who lives in another city. Slice cake into layers. Layer 1 is the realization that he's been lying since day 1, Layer 2, he lied about when he joined the army, Layer 3, he even lied about his mother's death.
3. Set aside.

Simple Syrup

1. In a medium saucepan over high heat, combine 1 crappy resort town, 2 annoying co-workers. Boil until syrup consistency.
2. Brush over cake layers to moisten.

For the Filling:

1. Mix together 1 awesome job that I have back home and 1 really nice boss that I'm mad at now. Add a dash of crappy economy for taste and a shitty facebook message telling me I won't be getting my job back when I get home, just for extra flavour.
2. Beat until smooth. Spread on first cake layer, then put 2nd layer on top, repeat with 3rd layer.

For the Icing:

1. In a mixer with a wire whip at high speed, whip together 50+ immature, loud, obnoxious housemates and 1 thieving asshole. Beat on high until laptop disappears then reappears the next day minus all data and Sims3 CD.
2. Mask and decorate cake.

Sleeping Life Away

So...I slept for like 10 hours in the middle of the day. Mostly because I haven't gotten any sleep at night for the past two nights, and last night I couldn't sleep at all so I went out. I figured, if I can't beat em, join em. Plus SexGod texted and I was all over that like white on rice.

Missed going to the gym today, on account of sleeping all day. I did manage to go to work, in case you're wondering if my penchant for orgasms has lessened my sense of responsibility. Luckily there wasn't much to do at work today, so I went in at 6am and left at 8am. Was passed the fuck out by 8:30am. Wish I had made it to the gym though, it's going to make it that much harder to go tomorrow now.

I know my sleep schedule is right fucked now. It's midnight and I have to but up for work in 5 hours, I should try to go back to sleep.

Kinda wish I could sleep the next 10 days away until I go home...but then again if I did that, I'd miss out on some absolutely great sessions with SexGod, and I wouldn't want to miss out on that!

ILMFJ

I Love My Fucking Job. I Love My Fucking Job. I Love My Fucking Job.

This is the mantra of the overworked and underpaid, ie my mantra. Days like today have me muttering it under my breath about every 5 minutes.

Just got back from 2 days off, and the very short list of things to do while I was away, was not done. There was like 4 things on the list, one of them was high priority, to finish the dessert for the dinner line. And that was half done by me the day before my 2 days off. All Snarky had to do was put it all together, seriously. I came in this morning and got it done in an hour, an HOUR! And I was slow as fuck because I got all of 4 hours of the sleep last night. (Thank you VERY much toga-clad residents)

(Also, the second stage of this dessert has not been done successfully by either Snarky or Freckles all summer and since I'm leaving in 2 weeks, I thought it would be a good idea for Snarky to do it.)

On top of that, the previous line desserts had something wrong with the crust, being that they sucked. And what does Snarky do instead of asking me what should be done about it? Asked the upstairs CDP what to do. Totally undermining me, WTF? So CDP comes down and says the crust is crap, we can't serve it (giving me sidelong glances all the while btw) and suggests that Snarky cut the old crust off, make a new one, bake it off and plop the damn thing on top. Snarky is neglecting to tell CDP that those are the crusts that SHE made, not me, so CDP thinks I made the crappy crusts. Snarky doesn't even apologize for fucking up. Not at all. Me, when I fuck up, which is not everyday, but often enough that I'm used to it, I practically grovel for forgiveness and do it over, no matter how long it takes. Snarky just shrugs it off like it's no big deal. Like cheesecakes that take a 3 step process over 2 days being unusable is no big deal. Urge to kill, rising.

So CDP needs some tea biscuits tomorrow for breaky samiches, we have some in the freezer but not enough, so Snarky decides to make a few more. Using the wrong recipe. I noticed on the first batch that the mix seemed a little dry, but I didn't say anything, mostly because Snarky had said all of 2 words to me all day and I really didn't feel like getting a death stare for correcting her. I figured the one batch was all she was going to do anyway and she'd be the one bringing them up to CDP in the AM so she could explain to her why they're dry as shit and not good for sandwiches. I was wrong, there was another batch to be made. (I had asked her when I came in at 6am if there was anything that needed to made today besides the cheesecakes and she said no, so I was wondering this whole time why she was baking.) This time, I couldn't let it go.

"Your mix looks a little dry there." I casually mention.
"Yeah, I thought so too." Snarky replies.
Awkward silence.
"Maybe you should add some more liquid." I suggest, Duh! I add mentally.
"Wouldn't egg keep it together better?" Snarky asks.
"I don't think so, that would add more protein and you'll never get it mixed properly now that your cream is already in there." I answer. "What recipe did you use?"
"Good Housekeeping." Snarky replies.
I fish out the book and scan the recipe index for the one we always use for tea biscuits (the one that is conveniently typed out and converted to various yields in the BINDER that I've put most {not all yet, still working on it} of our frequently used recipes in.)
"This one?" I ask, pointing to the tried and true recipe we've used a hundred times and should freakin know by heart now.
"No, this one." She says, turning a few pages back to a recipe for scones that we've never used, that says right in the method that they are to be rolled out, not dropped.

Forcibly holding back a major rolling of the eyes. I calmly explain the the proper recipe to use is the other one and it's in the binder, and that she should just add more cream to the current batch until it is the right consistency. The biscuits get baked off, they're crap. I tell Snarky I'll do them after she leaves for the day. She offers to scale out the recipe for me and get it started. Ok, since I had wanted to get some of the things done on the list-of-shit-that-didn't-get-done-while-I-was-gone.

So she scales it and goes home for the day. I finish it off, noticing that yet again, the mix seems dry. I'm beginning to think this poor girl just doesn't know how to measure liquid properly. Nor does she know how to think independently and adjust things as she goes along (obviously), nor does she know how to ask a freakin question if she's not sure about something instead of blindly following along untill she's in the weeds.

The biscuits got done, they weren't great, I don't think she measured things out properly. We need more of these for Saturday, guess who will be making them?

Sex, Love and Rock 'n Roll

I've been having this ongoing conversation with G over the course of the summer. About sex, and love and how they are two different things. To me anyway.

G is the kind of girl who needs both of them at the same time. I'm the kind of girl who likes having them both at the same time, but let's be frank, sometimes you just need the sex and who gives a crap about that silly love stuff.

Sex can be awesome all on its own. Pure, amazing, no strings attached, earth shattering orgasmic sex--this is something I need on a regular basis. Its primal, that's the only way I can explain it. It's instinct, it is a need, not a want. I start to go a little batty if I don't get any for a while--and that's not fun for anyone, especially since I have no qualms about complaining about it--to everyone.

And then there's love--ah love. I love being in love. The excitement, the constant nervous energy I seem to have when it happens, the flirting, the cute things you do for each other, the confidence it brings--that knowledge that no matter what, there's at least one person that loves you and as far as they're concerned, the sun shines out of your ass.

And when you combine love and great sex, it's awesome, it's amazing, it's the best thing in the world. But sometimes, unfortunately, you don't get both at the same time. And I've learned to deal with that.

G can't deal with that. She's going batty. I feel for her. But she is the way she is and I wouldn't change her for the world, I love her for her goodness.

The unfortunate part about me and my penchant for sex is that I have to be constantly careful about getting a reputation. Our society has no problems slapping labels on girls who like sex. Slut, Whore, Tramp, Strumpet (I actually like that one), Tart (being a baker, I think that one's just cute) and various other degrading terms are thrown at anyone with the good sense to go out and get what they need and want.

I've never understood why a girl is a slut when she sleeps with alot of guys and a guy is a stud when he sleeps with a lot of girls. I think its retarded. And since I don't want to have to defend myself to the whole resort (or the world in general), I have to keep my exploits on the down-low. Which sucks sometimes (such as now) when I really want to brag about the hot piece I got the other night and how freakin' amazing it was and how I'm pretty sure I'm going to be getting it for the next two weeks until I go home. Yeah, I want to brag, but then I'll be a "slut." It doesn't matter that I've only had sex with 3 people over the last 4 months, one being the Douchebag, two being a random one nighter (wasn't that great, but it kept me sane), and three being the latest amazing night--need a nickname for this guy but can't think of anything but SexGod at the moment, and that's kinda cheezy.

So despite that I'm obviously not a slut, if I brag about my conquest then I will be labelled one. Heck, people might start to notice that I haven't been complaining about not getting laid these last few days and put it together. Not to mention the walk of shame the other morning--I hate that term too, walk of shame, as if having sex is shameful, seriously people grow up. I am now renaming the walk of shame to...oh fuck now I have to come up with something clever. SHIT! I should've thought this through better lol. Oh well it will come to me.

*sigh* I now have to go break up the toga party so I can go to sleep. Working with Snarky tomorrow at 6am, oh joy.

Addendum: Toga idiots were setting off fireworks when I went outside. Near people's cars, and 100 year old buildings. It also hasn't rained in 2 weeks. Smart people in the hotel industry eh? Evil bitchy side hopes Neanderthal blows off his freakin hand, maybe then he'll shut the F up and I can get some sleep.

Ask And Ye Shall Receive

Woot! That's right, finally got some at last! And from a MAN, a real MAN. And wow, it was amazing. I won't go into details though lol. Thanks Universe!

That is all.

Random Sporatic Thought Process

Ok, so I haven't quite figured out how to make my blog posts all about one subject. There's too much stuff going on in my head at the moment to make things clear and conscise. Oh well, here I go anyway.

So, the other day I was thinking about how I don't feel like an adult. I'm 27 years old, I've been on my own since I was 17, and I don't feel like an adult. I felt more like an adult when I was 20-22. At that time I had a full time job, bills, a live-in boyfriend and all that crap. All my friends at the time were in college, doing their crazy college years and I was working my ass off trying to make ends meet. Now, I'm doing the college thing. I've been in school for two straight years now, I spend my summers away from home. I want to go places and see things. And all my friends are married, getting married, have kids or are having kids. So I feel like a teenager, but at the same time I feel like time is running out for me in terms of finding a husband and having the family life that I crave. My clock is ticking incessantly, however my need to get out and see things and do things before I settle down has won out in the end. I also don't want to settle. I don't want to settle for something mediocre. For just any guy that comes along with a ring. Fuck that! I want spectacular!

My love life is nonexistant at the moment. I can't get laid these days to save my life! Fuck Atlantic Canada, boys are stupid. Besides the dry spell, folks back home are coming out of the woodwork. This always happens when I find myself single again. Various male friends and aquaintances start messaging, calling, wanting to get together for "coffee." Yeah, sure, coffee, that's what you're looking for. I'm nice with putting them down gently, but I really want to tell them, "Fuck off, I've known you for like 10 years, if t hasn't happened by now it ain't gonna happen!" But I'm too nice for that. Plus I like the attention, not gonna lie.

Got a random email from the American (long story) shortly after my birthday. We haven't been in touch much, but things seem to be a little better between us now. Now that I'm not pining away for the most likely gay ex-boyfriend, things between us are a little better. I have a genuine desire to stay in touch with him, but I won't lie, I still have some residual feelings for him. We'll see how the email thing goes.

The other thing on the radar is Ata Boy. He loves me, I know he does. He's really bad at hiding it. We hooked up before I came out east for the summer, before Douchebag and I had an exclusive relationship. He's very sweet, he worships the ground I walk on, he's good in the sack, he's adorable. BUT...there's always a BUT..he's got some serious mental issues. I mean serious, like he's on meds, big time meds. Collecting disability because of his mental illness. He's on anti-psychotics for Christ's sake! I don't know if I can deal with that. Plus I have enough of my own issues, I don't know that I want to complicate myself with adding another person's problems to my own. I've already told him I can't have a relationship with him when I get home. though it's pretty obvious that we'll be hooking up from time to time. It doesn't help that I actually miss him. He makes me laugh, he thinks I'm the best thing since sliced bread, and fuck, it feels pretty damn good. But I KNOW it's bad for me. I KNOW. But I want it anyway, at least I want it sometimes.

My plan was, when I got home to call Goth Boy Band and set up a regular gig so I can get some on a regular basis. We dated a bit a few years ago, we're still kinda friends, he's fucking hot and he's good in bed. And, BONUS, he's totally not boyfriend material, so no chance of my falling for him, or vice versa. It would be a nice deal, if I can make it happen. If I want to make it happen, considering Ata Boy is readily available, willing, and pretty darn good.

I had a talk with G the other day about this, and she thinks that I shouldn't sleep with Ata Boy because he's in love with me and I'm not in love with him and that, apparently, is wrong. I don't think it's wrong as long as he understands that I'm not on the same page as him, which I've told him. My dilema really is, will I settle for him? Will I get entreanched in the unwavering doting affection and not go looking for something better? Or will I fall for him in the end, and will he break my heart just like the last one?

Good lord, this post is sad and depressing. I sound like a desperate chick that really needs to get laid, oh yeah, cause I am. lol.

Musings on life

So, I'm entering another chapter in my life. After being fucked over by the Doucehbag I find myself contemplating who I am, where I want to go, and what I want in my life.

There are two things that have been constant goals in my life. The first is to have my own business, a gastropub to be specific, the other is to have a family. However, both of these require a certain amount of stability, which I don't have right now.

I'm in travel mode at the moment. I'm nearing completion of my second summer working in Atlantic Canada. My plans for next summer include a 6 month contract with CFSA working at the Tim Hortons on Kandahar Air Field. This isn't for sure yet, I've only just applied, but I can't think of any reason why they wouldn't hire me. I have plenty of customer service experience and a bunch of food service experience. People keep asking me why I'd want to do this, especially since Douchebag was in the military. Why would I want to serve the troops after being royally fucked over by one? Its pretty simple really. Just because one guy was an asshole doesn't detract from the whole of the Canadian Forces doing the best job that they can. I'm a pacifist, I detest violence, so the chances of me serving my country in the military are zero, at least this way I feel like I'm doing my duty without compromising my own beliefs. Besides, I need the damn money.

I'm staring down around 30k in student and consumer debt and let's face it, cooks don't make much money. So, besides cruise ship work, which I won't do because I don't want to be on a floating jail for 6 months, there isn't any other way I can make a tonne of cash in a short amount of time.

After Kandahar I'd really love to go to Scotland for a while and work there. I need to get on with getting my UK citizenship in order to make that happen, which I will be doing as soon as I get home to Ontario.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do between Kandahar and Scotland though. By the time I get back from Kandahar it will be October or November, not the best time to travel to the UK. I'd like to wait until the spring. So the question is, what do I do for the 5-6 months in between? Apparently you can sit on your butt for a whole year after doing a tour at KAF. As nice as an extended vacation would be, I don't think I have it in me to do nothing for 5-6 months and collect unemployment. Plus if I stay at home I'd probably just go on an extended bender, which is never good. I wonder if I could still collect the money if I lived in California with my mom? Do some things down there for a while. Though the thought of moving back home at 28 makes me a little nauseous.

Well I have plenty of time to figure it all out. If KAF doesn't work out I may just skip off to Scotland next summer. I hear they pay pretty well over there, maybe I'll be able to get at least some debt paid off before the interest kicks in. We'll just have to see.

Quick update on work today. Snarky was in a bad mood today, I got a few snipes from her, but overall she wasn't as bad as she has been in the past. I'll give it some more time and see how it goes. Also had to have a chat with one of the Sous Chefs today because he kept asking random questions about the Shop that made me wonder if anything was up. Turns out he thinks we haven't been cleaning up well enough at the end of the day. But of course, in the usual passive-aggressive way, instead of just talking to me about it and letting me handle it with my staff, he has to beat around the bush about it, make me all paranoid, and then resign to have a chat with all of us about it tomorrow. As if I can't handle telling Freckles and Snarky that we need to clean up better at the end of the day? *sigh* I hate office politics. Need a nickname for that Sous, will figure one out later. Back in at 4:30am tomorrow, joy, day 6 of 9.

So far so good

Work has taken a turn for the better. Had a good day with Freckles yesterday and today was really productive as well. Snarky seems to have lost the attitude problem so I decided to drop it for now, will also have to find something else to call her besides Snarky. Unfortunately the new schedule was posted today and I'm on a 9 day stretch. Oh joy, 9 days in a row. I'm pretty sure this is against my religion--the religion of 2 days off per week. I asked Chef about it and he says he needs me there all weekend, so there isn't much I can do about it except suck it up.

As I said, work was very productive today, home life not so much. I feel a list coming on. I can't seem to get anything done around here. I feel so scatterbrained all the time. There's so much to do and I haven't got a clue how to get started on it. Once I have a list and I have a starting point then things will get done finally. I also need to start making a plan for the future. Flying by the seat of my pants isn't sitting well with me. I need to make some goals and set out a timeline. I'm getting old, lol, time to get my shit together.

Got a random text from a friend back home tonight, "What colour underwear are you wearing?" Bounce never wants to talk to me about anything except my underwear and when I have time to hang out. I never have time to hang out with him, and he wonders why I'm so busy all the time. I don't have time to hang out with him because I get the distinct impression that he wants to see what colour my underwear are for himself, and that so ain't happening--ever. Boy can't take a hint. I don't want to hurt his feelings, and the fact that he's a bouncer at my favourite bar makes we want to stay on his good side. So I'm busy--all the time. Kinda wish he didn't know where I live.

Let's see how this goes.

The whole blogging phenomenon is something I've only ventured into once or twice for short periods. I think I write fairly well, but I don't know that my life, or my screwed up insight on life is all that interesting to other people.

So why am I blogging now then? I don't really know, lots of time on my hands I suppose and lots of things on my mind. Writing in journals is one thing, putting stuff out there for people to read and comment on is something totally different. I suppose I want some objective comments on my life.

So here I go with it.

As far as I can tell, I'm pretty fucked up. My life is anyway. Be warned, I'm probably going to bitch a lot as this will be my outlet.

I'm just coming off of getting royally fucked over by a guy, not the first or last time this will happen, but it's the biggest Fuck You I've had in my life thus far. I'll spare the details, suffice to say that he's a lying bastard and I am left single, again.

I've never liked the dating scene. If there even is a "scene" anymore. Actual "dates" are few and far between these days. I find myself meeting people mostly through my current circle of friends. This needs to stop. Not because my friends are bad people or anything, but because I find myself in contact with people who float in all the same circles that I do and frankly I don't want to date myself. I want to date someone who is different from me, but there is some common ground that we can meet on.

But that's getting ahead of myself. About a year ahead actually. I've decided I won't be having a "boyfriend" for at least a year, if not longer. I need time to get my life in order and find out what I really want in a partner. I honestly thought I had found what I wanted, but the universe had other ideas.

I've gone through a few guys/boys/men that I thought were the one, but they weren't. It's funny how you can feel so sure about something and then have the rug pulled out from under you. But that's just how it goes I suppose.

So this will be my blog. I'm going to write about life, the usual crap, my love-life (or lack there of), work, school, family, friends, so on and so forth. Specific details will be few and far between as I like the anonymity and I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings in the long run.

My general mood for today is paranoid. I'm getting a wierd vibe from some folks at work and it's unnerving. I'm generally well-liked and I can't stand it when someone is angry with me, or dislikes me and 1) won't talk about it or 2) it's for no reason at all. I've confronted one person on the issue and got a very unconvicing denial of anything being wrong. Could have fooled me, since this person left a snarky note for me this morning. I guess I'll just have to talk to them again. I hate passive-agressive bullshit like that. Just out with it already so we can talk about it and get passed it.

*sigh* See, I bitch alot.