Frumpy frumpy lumpy

Ugh this place is making me jaded. I can feel it.
For the past two months, the job that I don't have has really been bursting any happy bubbles I've got towards it. I can't stand the food that they make and serve and since 75% of things I make come frozen I in mix packages, my soul as a baker shivers and cringes at attaching my name to such 'pastries'. Frankly it's an abomination.
Hen I first started not working there, ( because that would be illegal and I certainly do NOT break the law) I was thrilled by this owner who wanted me to turn the shop around. New recipes and new cakes and new new new... Everything, yes I had won. Though in retrospect I should have paid closer attention to the little voice inside my head that whispered ' gosh... They certainly have a high staff turn over rate...' lesson learned.
Week after week I would churn out new things, a cappuccino cake one week, dark chocolate baileys cupcakes the next, pâté a choux swans dipped in chocolate with elegant little almond beaks the next and each and every single time Monsieur the owner would sneer and scrutinize my work with a scowl. Luckily, on a day I was feeling particularly grumbly from his dark cloud that's hovers wherever he is, a customer came in and freaked out over my swans. I stood there beaming as he raved on an on and then bought one. The whole time the owner was shrugging and saying little to nothing.
Eventually one day he came up to me. 'what are you doing???!!! I don't want this stuff! See the book here?! (receptive book full of garbage from the 80's) This is what I want you to make! People like this so don't change it!'
I felt like an idiot. My Outer angry girl shell stood there with one leg piped out to the side and my arms crossed defensively across my chest, while I tried to hide my inside thoughts which were a jumble of wanting to cry... An scream and weep and just a little of wanting to rip his stupid mustache off.
I let it go and he walked out I the store for the day. This was the first and certainly not the last time he freaks out on me ( if I had a job that is, which I do not). P.s- the next time would be ' you never put out anything new!! Always stuff from the book!!!!... I dropped my jaw at this one and defended myself to which he huffed and walked away. I digress.
I am very aware that this company is making no money. Rarely selling over 1000$ a day and in such a prime location, I am surprised they are still open at all, he has Told me that his family has wealth so for that I say good for him. The waste from that place is brutal cost effectively and just in general. I do like the staff but certain things weigh on my soul. Like grandpa who speaks little to no English. Work well together in relative silence and laugh at a few things but the fact that he slaps big slabs of raw meat onto the kitchen scales without wiping or anything and they continue on makes the germ freak inside of me faint. Once while explaining to him in the simplest English I could ( and some butchered Spanish) about cross contamination - yeah YOU translate that!) he just laughed and walked away. Sigh.

Today was the last straw.

Since the owner was about a week late with the paychecks. As usual. I kindly aske him for it before I forgot. He came up to me and shrieks " this is how you leave it?! This is how you leave the display case looking?! WELL Is IT?! "
I am simply stunned. I didn't say anything thinking it was rhetorical. Once I realize he was actually wanting me to answer, I stopped staring at his gross mustache and replied ' I guess not no.' " GOOD answer! I don't know what language I have to talk to you in to get it through!" ( he also speaks French) "... I wasn't leaving... I wasn't done yet... I ws just asking for my paycheck...you just assumed I was leaving." and with that he rolled his eyes sneered at me and charged through to the front where he put on a fake smile do sweet it would make you diabetic.
I stood static for a moment and mentally calmed myself down " don't panic miss may its not you it's him. He's an angry man and I would be too if my restaurant was failing. You get good grades and everyone who eats your food loves it. It's jut him. " and with that I walked to the front and asked to speak with him for a moment.
His smile vanishe and he came towards me like a was wearing antlers and had a bullseye around me neck.
Calmly I said
' first of all- you out of walnuts ( he's ALWAYS out of something we need) an secondly I would like to give you my two weeks notice. Thank you for the opportunity but clearly ou ate not happy with my work and I don't think that this place is right for me-" and with that he broke in "- I told you from the beginning! And you never put out anything new and I-"
AND I - ha ha enough do I cut in
" yes if that's how you feel then one that is why I'm giving you my two weeks." and he sneered and said 'fine.'

I am relieved to be free from that place in two weeks and little does he know that I am sitting in my car I front of a prestigious bakery down the way... I definitely don't have an interview here right now and there staff turn over rate is so low, I've been waiting for over a year for this interview. That I don't have.


Today before I left, the new cook ( old one worked there four months n left) was freestyle rapping suing ' frump frumpy, she likes her oatmeal lumpy' ... Thank you baby jebus for getting me outta there.

That Day I remembered.

If I had a job, I would stay for the people. If one day my boss came into work and yelled at me for no reason, I would stand there and let him. I would you see because I need this imaginary job and the next day when I would come into work, I would have quietly told my comrades in the back about the ordeal. Dumbfounded, my little Spanish lady would hug me like a mother hugs a child

"Ai ai nooo lady no cry! U-re caikes ar Werry werry dell-icious" she would coo to me. I would hug her back and let her sooth me which feels very nice.

My day would be quiet but busy as I think about everything and nothing in particular. Out of no where a memory pops into my mind...A day that I swore I would never forget and yet haven't thought about in so long. I thought I might write it down just in case.

I was working behind the bar. This isn't a bar bar but a service bar in a family restaurant. Milkshakes, icecream, sundaes - that type of deal.

the night was busy busy and just winding down. I am exsausted, covered head to toe in nearly every flavour of syrup ever created.

I cringe to think what I would taste like if a giant popped me into his mouth...yuck....anyhoo

I slowly start to clean up, putting things away slowly, shuffling my feet to and from the sink and counter. Gawd my hair is going to be a disaster after this...ew what the what is THIS?...Ugh why is everything in my life so stiiiickyyyyyyy.....

the familiar buzz sound goes off and a paper prints out of my little machine. I feel like some kind of Genie, stuck in what looks like a chimney for a lamp, with a hole cut out. just enough space to see your genie sweat and pump out your milkshakes for hours on end.

I pull off my paper from the machine with my new masters wishes printed neatly on it.

Oreo Milkshake and a Strawberry fruit crush to go. Not too bad. I quickly go about whipping up the drinks when they are done, I mark them with there names and little hearts and I bring them out of my chimney to the man waiting on the other side of the wall.

Here you are my friend - I said to him.

Thank you - he replies

excuse me ms? - he says softly before I can return to cleaning,

I just want you to know that this fruit crush is going to a women who is very sick. She has terminal cancer and is in her last stages of life. . . She wont be around much longer and she can barely keep food down anymore. The one thing she asks for is this strawberry fruit crush. It really keeps her going, her face lights up when she has it.

He smiled kindly at me.

I just wanted to say thank you and to let you know that you've made a difference in a very sick person's life.

and with that he walked away.

I stood there numbly, my eyes leaking. Suddenly unaware of my hair or stickiness.

I thought about that day a lot the other day as I stood there not at my work.

People like him and my little spanish lady make me feel like I make a difference and I love them dearly for it.

Kayteamai and the failed pastry cream.

I certainly do NOT have a job but if I did, this is how a day in the life might go -

I look gross. Actually gross might be an understatement. I probably look somethin like what I imagine a modern witch would look like. A mix between ms theron's charcter in 'monster' and well a literal monster. A drunk monster. I for one am not drunk but having been up since 4am, hair (still at 1 pm) looking like I lost a fight with the 80's and in an oversized burgundy flannel shirt, were lookin prrrettttty scary.

I would be staring at the recipe for pastry cream. Understanding it but just so. Not. In. The. Mood.
To all my loving non- food savy friends, pastry cream is a cream used in (hold your breath) -pastry ( tadah!) things like the insides of eclairs or réligieuse and some cakes. Well the basic premise would be to make a boiling cream mixture on the stove, temper some egg yolks in, make the whole batch adjusted, smooth it , cool it onto a sheet pan, scrap it into bowls for later use and voila. Pastry cream.

In theory that is.
If I had a job I might have theoretically gotten frustrated with the one of the Mexican compadres of mine that I definitely don't work with, when I asked him where the large strainer was that he was just using and he would respond with that confused old man look and continue to insesively whistle what sounded like Olivia Newton-John's hit song 'physical' ...
I would have frustratedly scuffled over to the sugar bin and borrowed the one from there as a meager replacement.

Having grossly over-estimated the amount the recipe made, I would likely curse silently to myself while I watched the giant pot struggle to keep up with the gallon + of milk inside if it.
The strainer would have hard time dealing with a half pot of noodles.
Fig newtons this is gonna suck.

Awkwardly I would try and hold the baby strainer as I would pour the eggs and yolks and jazz into the pot to be tempered. ( in retrospect, maybe adding hot cream to the eggs then RE adding them would prove better, faster and less horrible outcomes... I digress)
Only having two hands and a virtually useless baby strainer that I cannot balance on the pot, I would have poured as much eggy mixture into the cream as I dare before violently flinging them aside and whisking like a loon at the bubbling mass infront of me. Worried and anxious as to how the end results would look, I emptied the contents of the eggys into the big belly pot.
I would have whisked and whisked and whisked some more while sweating, fretting and furthering my reputation as a witch as I muttered to my bubbling cauldron of goo.
Though pleased with it's increasing thickness, I would have been doubly discouraged by it's... Um ... Chunkiness...
Friends, what happens when eggs are added to Anything hot and shaken up? Yes scrambles eggs.
I know. *sigh* good thing this story is hypothetical...
With a heavy heart I would empty the contents of my cauldron onto two sheet trays mark them with hearts and let them cool. Though useable, absolutely unsatisfactory. If I had a job anyways.

Gardeners must be Sadists.

Everytime it gets warm out, I always want to become some magical gardener. In my old house downtown, I had avocado plants growing over my balcony, organic lemon seeds, apple seeds, you name it an I wanted to plant it. This time is no different. After a successful experiment where boyfriend brought home a mysterious electric green pepper that he 'got from some guy at work', he picked up a little cayenne pepper plant that is currently exploding with peppers ( about 22 in all stages of growth). I was given a small pepper from a friend at school and once she shriveled up, I popped her into a planter box and there she is still sitting... Making me wait anxiously to see her sprout.( the pepper not the girl)
So last week while at school when I found the mother of all jalapinos just sitting abandoned on the spice rack in class and wilting quickly, I asked if it belonged to anyone and they all replied 'no...' like they wanted to say ' no Wierdo that mostly shriveled up dead pepper is not mine. And why your gazing at it like it's your first born confuses and amuses me.'
I digress.
So yesterday was the day. I set forth to germinate my treasure. I set up a germination station in the kitchen with ziplock bags and moist paper towel, and sliced into my baby.
That sounds wierd. Anyhoo. It wasn't until I was delirious with joy over the completion of my experiment that I remembered that I had a lemon in the trunk of my car :D ( don't ask) so with haste and joy I bolted to my car, grabbed the lemon and hurried back inside to free the seeds from there fleshy cells. It wasn't until ten second later that things started to go wrong... Horribly wrong. While squeezing the lemon halves to get at the seeds, a comically large spurt if lemon juice lept from the lemon, fueled by my sqeeZing, and was heading straight for my face. Befor I could even register what was happening, I was in the midst if a full frontal assault. With lemon juice in my eyes my first instinct was... To rub my eyes. With what prey tell? ... My jalapino hands.

Let's let that thought marinate for a second...

Yeah. So at this juncture I am in tremendous amount of pain, my right eye ball is burning in a citrus Jalapino hell! As I bounce around trying to think of anything that can help that didn't envolve me touching my face, I slammed my hand on the counter. The rush of pain to my fingers prompted me to, yes stick them
In my mouth. Good lord right now I am just a hot mess. Burn and sore and freaking out I sat there helplessly crying with make up streaming out of one eye and waited for the storm to pass.
Stupid burning fire lemon storm. As soon as I could stand and function without looking like a drunk zombie, I thoroughly washes my hands.
I walked outside with my experiments and places them in the sun light. I stood there stairing at them, shooting love beams from my eyes into their bags and then realized what a disaster I was looking like... I was so happy and they are so so cute, I hope the germination works... I this how all gardeners are? Ai carumba

Bring Back the Dinosaurs.

I got a sign today that things are getting better. Not that they were bad but I guess I sort of achieved something. Without realizing it until I came here to write it down...for the first time today...maybe ever. I had one of those moments where you think to your self "Gawh, there is no where else on this earth I want to be right now." ... Its strange because I think I always had some kind of mental block about leaving Home and loving another city in another country but I always hoped that I could learn to love two places, three places, however many homes as you want as long as they hold people to love inside them. there homes.

So small known fact, actually something that I always thought was normal and now am feeling might sound weird writing it down buuuttttt... I enjoy watching Dinosaur movies (jurassic park, Dinosaur planet etc...) while eating pepperoni pizza. I keep my elbows tucked in at my side and make my arms look like t-rex arms. I have been known on occasion root for one dino over another in a one on one battle and comment on the commentary.

I do this alone and rarely. And it happened today!

I dont know how but today I just thought "im gonna grab some pizza" and got back. "mmmmm dinosaur planet yes." Started watching it... and all of a sudden a wash of happiness and love and almost relief just came over me and I realized that I do like it down here. I really do more and more. Its not what im used to and it certainly isn't perfect but I can love as many places as I want. Lets just say I have a crush on California. yes yes yes!!!! <3 <3 <3