It’s A Sign Of Behind The Times

I’m actually having trouble naming blog posts these days. I was thinking in the terms of song lyrics. “It’s a sign of the times….”, it’s a Harry Styles song… bear with me.

Today I finished Paradise Lost by Milton…. Caveat being that I didn’t read chapters 1-11; only chapter 12. I was a little late to the game with the local ‘Salon’ one of the ladies from the writing group hosts. It was rather lovely to be in a literary setting which has been far from my realm for months. My writing group has gone to the wayside because my Friday nights are so late that I can’t force myself to get up at 9am to write. Bleh.

Or Nathan Englander. Look at that hair. He has to be tall, right?

But I am still writing. Not as frequently as I would like, because while inspiration is there, and pops into my head all the time, it’s rather hard to write while pulling pizzas from a 700 degree oven in the middle of a rush. Whew!

Farley Granger. Good, American stock.

I wrote two poems back in 2017 that were from the standpoint of this heteronym Wilson Philips Tennu, a writer living in New Orleans. Tall, thin, similar to Farley Granger (or Nathan Englander), but more floppy hair, he’s in this physical relationship with a Mrs. Robinson-esque woman, although I don’t see her as quite as old, nor is she married. Just she has this way about her. He’s fed up with her, so off to France he goes, which is in poem number two.  Well, these two poems lead to a three month writing spree of various points where he’s trying to find himself, he’s left France, gone to the west coast, lives in a small, rural area, in this mountain cabin that’s very, um, rustic.  For those not knowing what a heteronym is : via Wikipedia 

The literary concept of the heteronym refers to one or more imaginary character(s) created by a writer to write in different styles. Heteronyms differ from pen names (or pseudonyms, from the Greek words for “false” and “name”) in that the latter are just false names, while the former are characters that have their own supposed physiques, biographies, and writing styles.

Wilson writes very long poems with no breaks. Semi rambling on…. Okay, I’m a little like that, but not quite as bad…. making conditions, because like, yeah, I am the one actually writing it… gads that’s confusing.

Anyways, here he is, in the west, and I am working on his journal and poetry. The poor man is rather lost, confused, disgusted with himself. He needs a change. He’s decided to get a job in a restaurant as a dishwasher….. irony……. working the night shift, and he smokes cigarettes like a fiend, courtesy of the Mrs. R. He drives a 1973 sky blue Capri, has two typewriters, one is a travel one, an Olivetti Lettera 22, light blue….  “but I still took my typewriter with me,
the travel one, sky blue, sleek, like a convertible
with its top down, zippy, light on its keys”   (I always say this in my head like Linguini from Ratatouille when he’s explaining about Anton Ego, the critic, coming to dinner)

Olivettie Lettera 22

I’d actually rather like to meet this guy. He’s so not my type, but well, any guy that likes his typewriters and is a bit edgy, sounds interesting at least. Writing from his standpoint is interesting. Sometimes I get lost as to whom is writing, and then I start getting really depressed and wanting a cigarette…. I don’t smoke. Sometimes Wilson can be a bit of a bad influence on me. He stays up late, having dark circles under his eyes. He probably drinks a bit too much, obviously smokes too much. Sometimes I want to shake him for being so dramatic at times. Everything is always so over the top with him. A real drama queen….

So bits of my life make for a perfect inspiration for his life. I kind of feel sorry he’s a dishwasher, but since he’s a writer that sends off work as his bread and butter, I’m okay with him having a lower tier job.  The dishwashing is his jam, though he would much rather have the writing be bread, butter, and JAM.  Fickle man.  Someone should give him a good ‘Snap out of it!’ slap, a la Moonstruck.

Just the other day, the swoop and curls are even better as I work on them, this was only day two of testing.

I realized I hadn’t blogged in quite a while, but then a new spring menu dropped at the restaurant, I was sick again, and just this week finished a 6 day work week with a couple of extra overtime days. Days where I didn’t clock off till well after midnight.  I am seriously tired and two days off isn’t enough. I need one extra at least, but such is life. I am excited about the new menu and one of my ideas made it to dessert menu. Pots de creme. I had done spiced ones a month ago that were not super popular, but these new ones are plain, rich chocolate.  I am excited about a few new dessert ideas I have playing around in my head. I have been killing it on being lead pizza chef. I mean, I am rocking it, even with a Rosie the Riveter look. I have the headband and have been swooping my hair a la 1940s.

That doesn’t mean work has been easy. I love my job but there are aspects that make me want to slam my head into a wall… Or more like coworkers heads, but that’s way too psychopathic, which I am not…. insert evil grin, like the Grinch….. I jest. Really, I do. I joke that I always have my knives with me, but if I actually stab someone it will be because I forgot to walk with the point down and I went around a corner. Yes, I can hear Chef in my head…. ‘Point down!’

Yes, Chef.

I’m not sure how to end this post, other than to say, I need to now read Paradise Lost, especially chapters/books 7 and 9 per Mads suggestion. I am actually going to read the whole thing as I rather like blank verse. Enjoy this Harry Styles song, because I rather like it, and need to listen to it again.

Kate

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Once In A While – My Walter Mitty Musings

“Once in a while”; the quote and lyrics of the song were floating around in my head yesterday, then I ended the evening with watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. The two things flow together in ways that probably only matter to me, in a semi-lazy summer afternoon, flowing into the evening kind of way. Or those spring days when the smell of all things growing come out. The hibernation of winter is leaving us and excitement starts to build.

I’m not on any grand adventure right now. But I am not just sitting around waiting for life to happen. I think I’ve lived a very Walter Mitty life, at least the first part. Not very adventurous or exciting, though I have been rather content in it. But my current life is Walter taking off on a plane to Greenland to find Sean O’Connell. It’s Walter skateboarding down the road in Iceland. That image I have over there in the sidebar of inspiring images….. This one

I’m in this building excitement in my life as I sit down and plot and plan desserts that are, while not awe-inspiring, are something that brings the person eating it utter delight.

That mouthful of something sweet and chocolatey that make the person just ‘um, yum’. A crunch, a bite, a smile of delight.

“To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer to find each other, and to feel. That is the purpose of life.”

      -The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

The quote always makes me think of the William Blake line. “To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.” It’s from Auguries of Innocence. I always loved that line. The magic in it. And Walter Mitty is a pretty magical film. Especially from a writer’s standpoint. The thing makes me cry every time it ends because of the delight in it. I feel like I’ve written about this before. Those déjà vu moments.

Last night it smelled like earthworms outside. Maybe they are coming forth. The blackbirds are in the trees, the rain falls softly, the snow hits the mountains so much wetter. There is that impatience in the air. We are in the cusp of a change. Dawn has come, open your eyes….. from Stay Alive by Jose Gonzalez.

Last year I was so impatient and in love with someone. I was struggling with all aspects of that. The chaos and clambering of my heart and mind. I wrote so much. I was so frustrated with all that didn’t come from what I wanted, to what transpired. A hell of several proportions that even now I haven’t completely let go. I guess falling in love with someone does that. Even now I wonder how I can say I fell in love with someone that wasn’t right for me. But that seems to be how things happen. Ironically, maybe that I write this after reading a line from “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell”, from the  Ravenous Butterflies Facebook page…. (Check it out)

“leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses.
you make him call before
he visits. you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.”
-Marty McConnell

Wow, those lines hit hard and I want to take a massive step back and look at things from a different perspective.

It’s a new dawn. Life continues to hustle along. I’m Walter Mitty-ing it along. An adventure around every corner, in every baked delight, in every Instagram followed post.

Kate

In A World Of Food Life And Tasting Meals

New Year’s Eve brought me to another banquet, though this was more of a very nice tasting menu. I have done several party type meals with this restaurant, and all usually involved yelling, crying, and broken glass. From someone, though I was usually the one crying. Yeah, so when I knew this was coming up, I was excited albeit, a bit aprehensive. I don’t do well under mad pressure. Meaning mad as in crazy and mad as in pissed off.

This was the farthest thing from that. This was amazing. This was exciting. This was a step towards a brighter future and opportunities that I have only had a glimmer of seeing with online postings from chefs. This was new. Apropos since it was leading into the new year.

The menu was in my opinion, ambitious. I can’t say what Coffeeman thought, though he did say something in regards to New Year’s meals and whatnot.

I was in charge of the desserts. Ta da! Of course I was, though due to a very busy week I was never able to actually make the triple flavored mousses that filled the cannoli shells. I was semi bummed about that, but since my cranberry sauce was used for the appetizer, I can’t complain. Chef could easily make it his way. But he has kept it with my recipe. Thank you. I am honored. It’s pretty cool to say that your lemon bars and cranberry sauce are that; yours. (on a side note, right before calling in sick, I made bourbon caramel sauce and a beer cheese sauce that were perfect in my opinion. Ok, I couldn’t taste them, but everyone else said they tasted good…. I think I am starting to get the hang of this cooking thing where I don’t jump at my shadow and I just make)

The New Year’s Bash went off as a hit, which included a round of applause from a very nice group of people. Several Instagram worthy shots and a closer connection with some of my coworkers. I went home on a high that lasted all that night until the next day when gosh darn it, I felt a virus hit at the tail end of getting rid of another one. Thank goodness it came on a slow week.

Below are some lovely shots of some of the items we served for the meal. And head over to my Instagram account if you want to keep updated on other food related items, or dachshund love.  Kate’s IG  https://www.instagram.com/katielynbranson/

Anyways, Coffeeman has no clue how much I actually wanted to cry because it was so amazing. The last banquet/dinner I had to do involved 60 cakes in 3 hours with no prep and a boss that I am possitive to this day, wanted to break me. He didn’t. He didn’t win. I succeeded and goshdarnnit! I will keep succeeding. Like all things in life, you have to fight for what you want, even when sometimes you don’t know what it is you want. You just keep fighting. And good things will happen.  Well, this is a very good thing.

Two posts in one day. Wow, well, being sick leads to ideas. I have been writing some fiction but I have lost a little zing of that since the last fiasco, which is a bit depressing. I have too much inspiration in my daily life and I want to write about it, but now I sit there wondering where or when I should share it. Le sigh. Such is life.

But this might all be the cold/flu talking and being tired and loss of perspective. Let me just go back to hela good banquet.

Kate

Torta Caprese, Experimenting – Day 25

My special!

So, obviously I didn’t get to writing till it’s already the 26th, but this is an exciting post for me. I got home after an absofreakinglutely great night and was kind of a motor mouth for a good hour, poor parents, and finally am in bed tapping away.

So you know how I had my experimenting the other day about Panna Cotta? If not, read it. But this week, Coffeeman cleared for me to make a flourless chocolate cake.  I’m not sure why this popped into my head to try, but maybe it came from finding a recipe in Cooks Illustrated, or the Martha Stewart Living that showed up in the mail. Either way, Tuesday, I was alone in the kitchen mastering a torta caprese, or Italian Chocolate Almond flourless cake. (It’s technically not flourless when there is almond flour in it….)

Definitely unassuming in its natural state… IE, chilling in the walkin

This cake is rich in chocolate, eggs, butter, and almond flour.  I topped it with a chocolate ganache icing. It’s this single unassuming layer, but it packs a punch.

Oh the cranberries, port, orange, lemon, and cinnamon are a simmering. Gorgeous sight…

And because it’s autumn, and the cranberries came in, I wanted a cranberry sauce, something that screamed fall.  I found a delightful recipe for a port spiked cranberry sauce and was given the go ahead to use some of the port we keep in our restaurant.  So cranberries and port and orange and lemon zest, a bit of cinnamon and some orange juice…. This sauce is so good, just on it’s own. (“With turkey,” mused Coffeeman and  Astro D today…) Boys, keep musing. You have no idea how delighted I was to see the looks on all of your faces.  (I want to just eat the sauce. It’s that good)

Finished sauce. I liked it better as it simmered, but well, done is done. The taste explodes in your mouth.

Then an amaretto and rum spiked whipped cream on the side…. (because I mean, amaretto. And rum) a bit of candied orange.  I plated the dessert today and all I heard was, “You made this?”

“You made this.”

“YOU MADE THIS!”

And a “nice” coupled with a fist bump and I think a “nailed it” or “knocked it out of the park” along with a “that with an espresso is perfect” from Chef.

Damn…….  yeah, damn fine day. I could have danced myself silly around the kitchen, but for the running into people aspect.

Look at that description!

Good day. Like really really good day. This experimenting stuff is going well….

Can you tell I’m happy?

I only wish I could send you all a piece to try it out.

Kate

Mistakes – Day 24

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

This wasn’t the post I planned to write today. Today’s post is getting put off till tomorrow or later. And like a tail between my legs, I’m writing this late as I am embarrassed.

Most people that know me would know I hate to make mistakes. I have since I was a child when I didn’t get spelling tests right. My mother reminded me of that today when I was nearly in tears because I had not left a note for Coffeeman that the meringue was not a huge amount nor was there a huge amount of lemon curd for tarts.  (leaving a huge pile of dishes then finding out we don’t have a dishwasher for Wednesdays right now, didn’t help either, because had I known, there wouldn’t have been a huge pile of dishes!)

I hate to make mistakes, even minor ones. Even  minor ones like leaving notes. I seriously have issues with making mistakes. Oh sure, I back talk my parents from time to time, I smart off, I don’t do things the non lazy way all the time, I am a cluttered individual, the clutter wins more often than not, I am a perpetual procrastinator, I am a distracted individual, I’m argumentative…. I have a lot of faults, but when I screw up, it really bothers me.

I spent the summer screwing up with relationships and life choices and it was hard to accept the consequences at times. I’m still dealing with the hurt from mistakes made.

At work, I really, really, really hate to make mistakes. Back in early spring, Lucifer needed prep help for a busy morning, so he asked me to push off my dessert baking till we got caught up. Unbeknownst to me, we had a car club come in and those guys always order desserts. Always.

We ran out of pie. Well not that we didn’t have enough to serve them, but when they were gone, we were out of pie and I wasn’t caught up on baking. Needless to say, the chef lit into me because it was going to take me a while to play catch-up especially with a pie that took two hours from start to finish because it needed to cool. I was in tears for most of the day because I had disappointed him, as well as he told me he was going to have to go tell the owners of the restaurant that we were not up to snuff because I hadn’t done my job.

Okay, I realize that the situation wasn’t all of my fault, but it was hard and it bothered me for days. One of those times I went home in tears.

This late summer not having  our roulade cake holding together left me mentally in tears, and actual tears a lot of the time. It took almost 6 weeks of baking the darn thing, trying new things each week before it finally worked for me.  Being mocked by a couple people for not getting it right didn’t help either….. I am a very sensitive individual.

Today’s mistakes, while minor, bug the heck out of me. Yeah, I am really tired and my sugars have been wonky lately, diving really low in the middle of the night and not being so great in the morning. So, that affects my tiredness. Mentally stressing about coworkers, missing idiot boys in my life, even though it was best to separate myself from them all add to the general irked feeling.

I hate to make mistakes. I hate to disappoint people. Which is sometimes a problem. I try so hard to please people that I am always stressing about it. Go figure why I have such insecurity issues. My father can’t figure it out. Heck, I can’t figure it out. Why do I need that A++ on a test, life, relationships?

Mistakes happen. They will forever happen from time to time in a job. I just wish they didn’t happen to me.

Kate

Lemon Curd and Swiss Meringue – Day 15

The halfway point. I’m already feeling it. Probably because I don’t have any backup posts now. Now I have to write every day because I’m not caught up and I’ve lost a little of what I should write about. This always happens.  I do have a few things I know of, but I like to see what inspiration strikes me at work.

Today it’s two areas that a few months ago I would have said no way and no how was I ever going to be able to make them. I definitely would have said it a year ago. I don’t know why I was so worried.

Whisking lemon curd away

I’ve always wanted to make lemon curd, but everyone warned me it was time consuming and you could really screw it up. And I would have never tried a different type of meringue.

Lemon curd has got to be one of the easiest things to make. Oh sure, it takes a bit of time, but it’s like super easy to make. Seriously, I will willingly make it for anyone that wants some, provided they spend the money on the ingredients. It does use a fair amount of eggs, butter and lemon juice/zest….. <—see, zest!  But in a double boiler, bain marie, it’s a breeze. I make it almost every week. And the exploding lemon flavor is heaven. Seriously, I love lemon tarts now. Not that I would have ever balked at it before. In fact, now that I know how to make it, I want to make it for my family.

Filling a piping bag

Swiss meringue

Swiss meringue came after my standard meringue fell quite quickly at work. I’m not an expert at it and it was causing trouble. You either have a touch for it or not. I can’t say as I have a touch. So research began and swiss meringue became the solution. The first trial was too sticky and gooey, but an improved recipe { Rethinking Swiss Meringue: Lighter, Fluffier, and More Stable} made this marvelous concoction that I want to spread and eat and just consume.

It worked every time I made it and lasted days, much to Lucifer saying, “no it won’t” and “see how much time it takes you to make!” Gasp and horrors, 15 minutes for three to four days of it lasting versus 5-10 minutes each day… Gee, I wonder which one was more functional?

A finished lemon tart with swiss meringue

That being said, my swiss meringue has been separating lately. Too much humidity? Too much beating? Not enough sugar? Something is off and it irks the heck out of me. It was decent for the weekend. And I sent out a couple luxurious desserts to guests late at night. I got to plate. I loved it.

Sometimes it’s the silly things I’m afraid of, but Chef seems to think I’m up to the challenge and in the scope of things, I’ve ruined very little. The roulade cake not cracking for weeks was an issue, but I have it solved. I should probably modify the kitchen bible.

I love that I have lemon curd and meringue in my head and I can whip them out without even questioning myself. I love that food becomes almost ordinary in fixing it. Someone says, “can you do —-?” and I can say, “Why yes I can!” Skills…..

“June, you’ve got skills…”   from Knight and Day with Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz

I guess I have ’em.

Kate

Creativity, Experiment 1 – Day 6

So, Coffeeman is all about being a chef. As in, we get to experiment. Try new things. Bounce ideas off of him. Instead of talking about it, we do it, as he said to me a couple weeks ago when I was thinking of panna cotta to make use of something odd in our walkin. It’s not about talking about it. It’s doing it. I love that. I love that I get to experiment with ideas. (the panna cotta turned out ok, but I’m not sure it was as popular as it could have been. bummer)

A cured yolk just after being in the salt a week. Now into the ovens.

One idea that I wanted to try was cured egg yolks. I use a fair amount of eggs in the baking process, fortunately the whole egg most of the time, but here and there, when I make meringue, I only need the whites.  Well, cured egg yolks are these really cool bundles of yellow Parmesan flavor. Trust me, they really do taste like Parmesan.

So to cure them, you carefully separate your egg yolks from the whites, then carefully place the yolks into a pan that has a layer of salt and sugar, into little divots you make in the salt/sugar. Cover the yolks in the same mixture and let chill/cool/take a break for a week before rinsing the salt off and drying in a warm oven overnight.

A couple a yolks just hanging out….

They can be micro-planed onto something as a garnish. This pretty yellow dust that is salty good.  I have a small collection of them at work and I haven’t found a use for them, but I love that Chef let me try them. I want to come up with a pizza that I can grate it on top of for a bit of color and flavor. I’m thinking a cool pasta primavera style alfredo thing might be cool. Something. I haven’t figured it all out yet. Still playing around with ideas.

I just love all the creativity that has graced our kitchen. The other day Coffeeman pulls me out to the back freezers, spoon in hand and has me take a sample of this chocolate sorbet/ice cream he’s made. It’s luxurious. I ask him why and he replies, “Because I can and I wanted to do something different with pink peppercorns.”  So it was a chocolate pink peppercorn frozen delight. It was delightful. So if he’s experimenting, so are we, in a way.

I don’t always have time to mentally come up with new things though a part of me feels like I should, except he is the chef. He’s supposed to come up with things. I’m still just trying to keep my body floating as I take in as much information as I can with everything he dumps on me. One of these days I might come up with something. I’m working on it.

Kate

Tools and Accessories – Day 5

“K, your bag is in the way again.” Lucifer is rolling his eyes at me as my tool bag is apt to dump its contents all over the place.

“I need my tools,” I say as I scoop them all up.

“You don’t need them. You just think you do. You just like to accessorize.” 

Lucifer is mocking me, of course. One of the many of the day.  (Sometimes I wonder why I fell in love with this boy.)

Maybe I don’t need all the tools I have in my bag, but as the Chef has a backpack full of unique tools, I won’t let Lucifer’s words get to me. Besides, things are perpetually getting lost in the kitchen. So I kind of like having all my tools with me. Measuring spoons, spatulas, tasting spoons up the wazoo, microplane, lemon juicer…. I have enough to get me by, but honestly, I wouldn’t mind a few more. Coffeeman has these really cool spoons that have an opening at the end and you can write with sauces. Those are cool.

I use all of my tools on a regular basis. Especially my spatulas. And tasting spoons. I have about 6 or more and they are great when I make chocolate mousse and hand out spoons for people to taste. Yum.

So I’m a woman. So what if I like to accessorize. Big deal, I like shoes too…..

Kate

Beyond the Swinging Doors – 31 Days of My Life in a Professional Kitchen

Behind those two doors my world resides. Oh, and right to the left, where pizza is.

My life as a prep/pastry/pizza chef has been a whirlwind of less than a year. Considerably apropos to spend 31 days writing about it, posting about it, pictures about it, since this is the last year of 31 Days in October. Honestly, I can’t believe that this little blogging thing, which isn’t so little, is coming to a close. But as one chapter of life closes, another opens.  I can honestly say that all my hours spent cooking and baking are taking over my life to the point where I can only blog here and there.

The life has lead to some amazing opportunities, not just within the kitchen, but in my writing life as well. Opening doors to new subjects. New loves. New hates. New, new, new. It’s all new. Exhausting. Amazing.

I write this at nearly two thirty in the morning after not getting off of work till midnight, body exhausted and sore, mind fuzzy and wiped. But it’s all good. In a strange way, it’s good to feel this tired. I wish sometimes that I had more time to devote to writing and being at home, but at the same time, I love my job.

You know how people have to keep saying over and over how much they love something because they really don’t? Yeah, well that’s not the case with me. I say it over and over because it’s true. Even the most frustrating moments, like tonight running out of things the morning prep guy should have stocked for me, screwing up a few pizzas,  not having such and such done, and just not being able to close down till late, I still have the good things overshadow the bad. Like having a guy slip a tip over the window to me because he so enjoyed his dinner.  Having another guy say my pizzas were incredible. And another one saying he loved the mussels (which I did not do, Chef did) but he planned to come back soon because he heard how good my pizzas were. Yeah, those are good moments. It’s a good moment when your coworkers ask you to make them a pizza and they love it. I love my job.

So, I shall attempt for the next 31 Days of October to write and post about my life behind those two black swinging doors. The dance. The magic, the whirling motion of life. The food. I have my camera/cellphone at the ready. I already have several mental posts lined up.  Get ready, dearies and my darlings.

Kate

  1. Stainless Silence

Lack of Tact makes me Bite Back

Photo by Mitchell Orr on Unsplash Stupid uphill climb…

Just as I think I’ve made progress in one area of my life, something else seems to derail everything and I feel like I’ve slid back down the ever upward climbing slope. Sisyphus and his boulder. This was a very stress induced week; pardon, the last two to three weeks have been stress induced weeks, where I feel exhausted beyond belief and unable to make any rational decisions. In fact, I’ve made several rash decisions that have made the stress even higher. Mr. T (renaming  Tomcat for personal reasons) and I went through a whirlwind of a thing that created family problems and drama that made me take a step back from it all and reevaluate some decisions and life choices.

It’s never easy to have to deny what you want for the better good. I really, really hate doing that. Mrs. B said that you can’t always do what you want, but what is right. I really hate that sometimes as well, because she’s right. What I want isn’t always what’s good for me. I want to stay up late. But I should go to bed. I want to drink numerous cups of coffee, but I need to drink water. I want to date so and so. But who do I want to end up with in life.

Tomcat and I are in this weird work/coworker relationship that was closer than that. Lucifer and I had the same issue. Don’t date coworkers. It will screw you up. It’s all too personal. And now we are clashing with each other. I don’t think it helps that Tomcat and Lucifer are friends. I think they feed off of each other too much. And currently, after a run-in with Lucifer, I have my feisty nature exposed. I’m tired of being pushed. I’m tired of people telling me I’m lacking passion, that I don’t know anything, that I’m too distracted, that they can whip me into shape. It’s not that I even disagree with all of that, but I’m just tired of the arrogant boys, boys 10-15 years younger than me, thinking they are God’s gift to the human race and they can teach me a thing or two. Honey, just because I have some naivete and haven’t been out in the world sleeping around, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. Push me so far and I might just snap and then like hurricanes wreaking havoc, you won’t like the end result. You will get burned, stabbed, eviscerated, yes, Mels, I know if someone was ever murdered with a knife, I’m the first suspect…..

Tomcat and I clash when he tries to boss me around, this boy, and I say it with complete and total snark and sarcasm and stabby looks in my eyes, thinking he’s my boss. He’s not. Lacking tact, trying to act like he’s the new sous chef (Lucifer is no longer with us) and just being an all around a**hole at times, I could easily slap him so hard. Last night was one of those nights where I wasn’t going to be pushed. He’s been doing it for the past month since he joined and I had it. I outright defied him and ignored his bossy tone. So he went and got Coffeeman. Fine, I don’t care if Chef has to come in and deal with it. I’m tired of being pushed around by people who think they know everything. This goes back to even a few of my even younger coworkers who are half my age. Children. They are children. I may not have kids of my own, but whatever happened to respect your elders and superiors?  It’s like it just doesn’t exist.

Lucifer was 10 years younger than me and my boss. I get that he got to boss me around, but still, it can really irk when ‘children’ are bossing you around. Because they have no tact. Tact, Tomcat. You have no tact. No diplomatic skills. Brag about you being a person with manners and all, but seriously with me,  you have zip. And you are getting even less. You want to see me bite back, well, honey, there is how I will start fighting. Even if it isn’t for a good, valid reason, I will bite back if you are rude.

Clearly the drama and issues are not out of the water. Clearly I haven’t simmered down. It probably doesn’t help that Tomcat and I had a private message late last night and it still irked me. I still feel he thinks he’s in charge of me in the kitchen. I could use Coffeeman’s advice. I just hate to bother him now that he’s having to take on more with Lucifer gone. I’d really like to be his girl Friday, but I’m so tired right now, I feel I can’t take on any more than he’s already put on me. Not that I’m complaining, I’m looking forward to it. A lone kitchen and baking and experimenting. Now that’s kind of fun. I hope.

Pardon my vent. I had plan to talk about making and baking and experimenting but the issues of the kitchen have clearly frustrated me more than enough.

Bare with me. I might be able to tone down a little today. I had some good advice from various things and people in life and now it’s just applying them.

Kate