can't get you out of my head

This whole recovery from wisdom teeth removal is worse than people led me to believe. I think I generally have a pretty high pain tolerance too...

Sing with us ye seraphim

After graduating at the beginning of September, I've been keeping pretty busy. Trailing at a restaurant in Chicago, working a couple days in Door County and then my wisdom teeth came out yesterday. My cheeks are puffed up and jaw is pretty sore. It's not too bad though and kind of a nice break to not be running around for a couple days. I can't say the cabbage patch doll look is great on me but I'm fairly certain that by Sunday when I head back to New York I'll be fine. For now, I feel semi-awful and have discovered that I don't think vicodin really has that great of effect on me. ...oh well...Sister Act on TV is keeping me entertained.

Video killed the radio star

It seems that my luck is a well that sporadically runs dry. Like the bursts of time (like this past week) where I miss trains, get hurt frequently, lose things and have my hard drive crash just before I am able to back it up with my newly and finally responsibly acquired external.

Now, this crash brings along with it the obvious drama of losing all photos and music. Yes, I did run to the bathroom and start crying after hearing that no data was transferred to my shiny new expensive hard drive. I admit it. The thought of right-clicking on the thousands of photos I have uploaded on facebook and shutterfly in order to save subpar versions of my pictures makes me a little nauseous. Then there's the probably hundreds of dollars of purchased music from iTunes and Amazon which apparently must be repurchased, and the intense amount of time to transfer things from the old pc I wisely retained and the reorganization that will follow. Let's not even talk about the Graduation Power Hour, which can hopefully just be copied from one of the now prized DVDs floating around out there. Clutch those things to your heart and never let go until I can download it back onto my computer. Then there are also the little things you don't even think about like hundreds of bookmarks now lost.
Perhaps I can think of it in some ways as a cleansing. A clean slate. But for now, it's all I can do to not chuck my computer at the wall and say screw it. So much for technology. I hate you Apple and your stupid promises of superior performance that lasted less than 2 years.

However, never fear, there is a glimmer of hope. After spending hundreds of dollars on a new hard drive, I can send away my old battered hard drive to attempt to have it "saved" or have people try to glean any data off it that they can. Apparently, the Apple people cannot do this. Hope for the low price of $500-$3900. And no worries, if they can't get anything from it, the attempt only costs $200.

I am letting myself have a night to steep in bitterness and deep sighs. Maybe a little weeping. It's fine.

Hurry hurry hurry, before I go insane

I just finished up my last class of a three week block of insanity. My class lasted from 11pm to about 9am. Yes, read it again, it's not a typo. I have been nocturnal. I was working in the bread department of the school's cafe. Overall, being awake during those hours isn't that difficult, it's the being awake after those hours, being coherent anytime but those hours, having a normal life and remembering what day it is that is difficult. The hours in and of themselves make this block intense, plus the fact that the entirety of the class time is production...no lecture, no break for a meal, it's standing and running around and (for me) lifting 50lb bags of flour every half hour or so, mixing multiple doughs by hand, pulling cart upon cart of food order up slanted walkways and definitely needing new workshoes...I have never felt so strong or so exhausted.

We certainly finished with a bang...on a day (night?) that normally would have consisted of our trainees--the next group--taking over the station and my group spending the time deep cleaning the bakeshop, our night was interrupted by a power surge that killed our ovens, a power outage in the baking department that killed the proofer we were using for viennoiserie, a fire sensor going off, a sudden downpour of water in the front of house of the cafe which flooded the room and outside hallway, another fire alarm, water being shut off to stop the waterfall, yes, ANOTHER fire alarm, being told the cafe would not be opening so we had to throw out a bunch of product and then 2 hours later being told the cafe would in fact be opening so there was a mad dash to finish product...I left today with next to zero energy, covered in a film of flour, remnants of poolish drying on my forearms and the largest burns I have ever received gracing my arms. I have never been so excited for a weekend in my life, compounded by the fact that most of the Barn crew will be gallivanting around the city with me.

Put on your pretty lies, you're in the city of wonder

This weekend I was whisked away to the city with some of my school friends to meet up with some of their old college friends. Without going into too much detail of the intricacies of a friend of a friend having more money than is comprehensible to me, I found myself in the middle of a weekend of oddities and excesses, VIP areas and table service. It was weird. The highlight was Saturday night, which found me absolutely floating on Cloud Surreal as I sat down to a specialized tasting menu at Daniel, complete with wine that put my jaw on the floor and an unfathomably old Madeira. This might mean nothing to most people but it is absolute insanity in the best way possible for me. So I was as giddy as can be, clasping my hands together as each course was set in front of me and giggling little squeals as I listened to our host ordering wine. At the end of our meal, we took a tour of the kitchen. So we get down to this beautiful clean kitchen that is being closed up, as it is now 12:30 in the morning and we stand behind the line to take a picture of our whole group. We're talking to the staff and joking around while pictures are flying when suddenly a bunch of the chefs start yelling, "Chef, Chef! Get in the picture!" This little Asian woman comes in and my friend Lou says, "Is that the pastry chef?" I shrug, then realize they are still saying, "Chef, get in the picture."

I look up and see, as if in slow motion, Daniel Boulud rounding the corner and heading to our group.
"Oh my God. This is not happening." Lou whispers behind me with a shrill giggle.
I clasp Lena's friend Anne's hand, almost inaudibly whispering, "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod..." as Boulud pounces on top of the line to get in the picture. He then climbs off and circles around to shake our hands, do introductions and take more pictures. When he leaves, Lena stares at Anne, who is in grad school for Psychology and shrieks, "ANNE! It's like if you met Freud!!!"
With half of the group having attended culinary school at some point, it's a pretty astounding experience to have. And that was my weekend.

Under Pressure

One problem with having all your friends in all your classes is that all of you will be anxiety ridden at the exact same time. Once this week is over, the cloud of stress should abate.

We're seein' things in a different way

My Dad introduced me to this organization:

In August 2008, Wholesome Wave launched the Market Box Program at the Norwalk Community Health Center (NCHC). Through this program, Wholesome Wave purchases surplus fruits and vegetables from its Westport market, packs the produce into half-bushel boxes, then delivers and sells the boxes at affordable prices to families with little access to fresh food. Each box, a $20-25 value, may be purchased for $6 in Food Stamps or WIC vouchers. The program benefits families that want to purchase fresh produce but do not have the time or economic means to shop at farmers markets. In addition, farmers benefit by having a wholesale outlet for their end-of-day surplus.

Yeah, my dad's pretty awesome.