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.