I am going to end up like ros russell in the movie roughly speaking. 

what is my incessant need to do things myself?  why doesit bother me so much when people do me favors?  I hate when people do favors, they always want something in return, it might be twenty years from now…but they will want something in return.  I hate when my day gets screwed up by someone elses screw-up. 

Why in the hell do I think that I can get married?  The love of my life will no doubt end up leaving me as ros russell’s first movie husband did…because I will run everything.  I can’t let it go.  I believe I have reached a new burial depth for my true feelings.  Just as soon as I feel that I’ve reached a new level of maturity and can deal with certain things, I collapse into a bi-polar meltdown.  HE THINKS I’M CRAZY!!!  I know he does, he shuushes me in public when my soapbox is to loud,  and then later tells me it’s ‘cute’.  He talks me off the ledge when I hang up on him without reason, leave without saying goodbye, and slam doors without the slightest explanation.  WHYYYY?  One day he will snap, and be done with me.  I am not cut out for humble domestication.  But I would get eaten alive if I were on my own!

Heaven Help me, if I could end up like Ros with Jack carson my future wouldn’t seem so uncertain.

Happy fourth of July!

Ok, I’m writing this post on the fifth, but I meant to write it on the fourth. Ahhwell.

I think that Star Spangled Banner is the best patriotic song…ever.  Some call it a ‘drunken bar song’, and where that came from, I have no idea. Read these words, and tell me that your don’t get choked up:

I can see the author, sitting in choppy waters on the enemy’s boat.  He’s waiting for them to destroy Fort McHenry and wanting them to get it over with…because there’s nothing he can do for his fellow men except pray.  And pray he did.  Exploding bombs and rockets lit up the darkness, and gave proof throughout the night…that the almighty flag was still there in all her glory.  We were not giving up!  I can feel the morning dew, as the sun barely rose over the horizon.  The calm and quiet waters, the boat rocking back and forth, the silence of death, and the glory of the tattered flag…billowing in the somber breeze.

If every person thought about that bittersweet moment once this fourth of July, maybe enough people would remember what those men went through to get what we have now.  Those who want to destroy us with communist policies are going to drive us out of our apathy, but by then it will be too late.  The men who died for what our flag stands for fought their way to America, and then defended it from powerful dictators who had policies just like our Presidential “Hopefuls”.  I will put hope in what old glory stands for, that there are still those out there that are brave enough to vote to protect it. 

Long may she wave, for we are the land of the Free, because of the BRAVE!

There was a man in a silver sedan that almost wrecked me and my car last night…not even my car really.  He was angry, and probably not even at me.  On the bright side of things, my mocha rum cake turned out fantastic. 

Maybe the angry man would like a piece of cake…

I made 700 biscuits today, I know i added the extra zero up there…but it did feel like 7000.

I am so tired…every time I reach a new level of tired i think that it can’t get worse, and then I step up to a new level.  Is it ever going to end???  I’m sick of complaining….thank god no one else sees this blog.  Because i’m sure others are sick of it too.

It’s hard lately not to let the shit get me down.  I have avoided talk radio successfully for a few weeks now.  My usual standby’s of Glenn Beck and Laura Ingraham were whisking me away into a very depressing and doubtful place.  I know that what they rant about is reality…and a warning…but I think I’ve reached my threashold of reality.  I’m weaker than I thought.  Unfortunately I have an incessant need to have ‘my ducks in a row’ as my mom would say, and uncertainty and a lack of planning makes me, well, CRAZY!  Owning a business when a socialist snail oil salesman is headed for the oval office is scary.  And paying four times the amount for wheat flour when you are making 700 biscuits is scary too.  The disgusting intolerance of logic in Washington has lead me to believe that we have been taken over by marxist shapeshifting aliens.  If you look at San Fran Gran Nan closely…well it makes you wonder!  Oh and let’s not forget the forbodable Maxine Waters and her oober slip of the tongue….’socialized…what i mean is….the government is going to take over and run your companies.’.  You crazy nutjob!  Whether you call it socialized, nationalized, bastardized- whatever- it means the same damn thing!  When the government sits across from American Industry and tells it “You are not running industry properly, We’re going to take over”, that would be anti-capitalism…socialism……whateverism.  It’s all the same. 

The day that left wing nut comes to my door and tells me how to make biscuits will be the day she gets a swift biscuit in the face.  There should be a warning label on the footage of that comment: “Caution: May cause racism”.

I just landed a gig making the entire dessert menu for a restaurant downtown.  I am in love with this restaurant.  I arrived early the other morning for a tasting and meeting with the chef and owners, and as I waited for everyone to arrive I took the liberty of wandering around. Oh how I love to wander.

As you step through the back gate you can hear the clanging of a few pots…maybe water running too.  A few voices here and there.  There are birds making rediculous amounts of noise.  The sun is barely up..These are the signs of a good morning.  Upon opening the door there are a few people bustling around in chef coats.  I hate when chefs wear chef coats…but when the guy who is actually cooking your meal to a new level of perfection is wearing one, well- he’s the one that should be wearing it.  Kitchens have a morning smell…the gas from the stoves, herbs and produce having been pulled out of the cooler, french roast coffee brewing…and clean people.  I’ve always loved the smell of clean people…I’m so painfully odd.  When you walk by someone and they smell like Irish Spring…it’s not a turn-well it’s just simply nice.

I’m greeted by smiling faces (the coats).  I find that if you smile big and say ‘good morning, how are ya?’ the response will pick you up even out of you worst day.  I didn’t even know these people, and it had that effect.  I’m always amazed at how the oldest and smallest restaurant kitchens are the ones that pump out the most impressive food.  Three or four talented guys in the back…creating enchanting plates with the bare minimum.  Something so artistic and bad ass about that.

As I make my way from the lowlights of the kitchen into the dining room, white sunny light envelops me.  Each table is draped in white and dressed beautifully with water and wine glasses and shiny, shiny silver.  The big windows let in beautiful morning light and show off the waterfall and foliage outside.  This building is more than 70 years old, and all I can wonder is how many people have enjoyed meals here- how many important conversations have taken place here? How many marriage proposals? How many break ups?  How many affairs?  How many business deals have been concocted at these tables, and how many people have sat back after a long day and said…”That was so good”. 

This part of Food has become so commercialized, and now it’s so trendy and bad ass to be in this industry.  But how many people look beyond the kitchen and really want their dish to make someone’s day?  What the hell is the point if it doesn’t?  Anyone put something on a plate that will be consumed without a complaint, but why not try to make it something that makes them stop the conversation at the table, and say ‘this is so good…’  We have to eat, there’s no way around it.  And at ten bucks for a dessert plate..why not make it memorable every time? 

My dad knew a drummer once that tried to make himself sick of playing the drums.  He played for something like 4 or 5 straight days.  He still loved it, and makes his living playing the drums today.

I have been completely emersed in the world of baking for what seems like a really long time.  I leave one kitchen and go to the next (sometimes three in a day…) and I’m so tired…and everything hurts.  But I am not yet sick of baking- tired of the other stuff necessary to keep my business going…but never baking.   

I voted today, nothing makes me feel more honored…

…and nothing makes me more angry than people who don’t vote.  What kind of a democracy are we if we don’t exercise the right to do what actually makes us a democracy?  If you do not take the time to vote beacuse you  are “toooorrrrn, like an old sweater” and can’t decide which terrible candidate is best… Get over it!  Use your nogin and think!  I’m sure nothing pleases our most hateful enemies more than a bunch of whiny Americans running off into their corners screaming “Fine!  I just won’t vote!”

Okay, maybe, perhaps there are a handful of times when refusing to vote sends a positive message and in return does no harm.  Like when there is only one name on the ballot.  That’s pretty much the only time that’s okay.

I’ve been more taken by local politics this time around than ever before, which is why I was so eager to early vote in this 08 primary.  Local politics will bite you much faster, resolutions and consequences appear sooner than you would expect.  And with the elections going on around these parts…some damage control will need to take place after the fact.  Someone just said to me, “…There will be a big challenge to rebuild a cohesive republican base again.”  I can’t wait until Wednesday to get the final results….

More tomorrow will include the fundamentally neccessary conversations about socialism and McDonald’s coffee we had tonight.  (You know who you are…crazy right wing gun totin’ God fearin’ conservatives…)