Laundry List

So.

I'm losing my damn mind. Like, more than we already knew.

There's just a lot going on. A lot to worry about. A lot of thoughts and worries and motes of panic floating and buzzing around in my head that keep me from sleeping, relaxing, being fully myself. I'm trying to calm down, I'm trying to take to heart all those "It's going to be ok"'s that are being given to me. It's not working.

My mother, bless her, is making me lose my mind. She is so very selfish, so demanding, it exhausts me. Heaven forbid I pay attention to myself for a moment--We simply cannot do that, not on Mom's watch. It was so bad today that I poured rum in my diet pepsi to keep myself from overturning the couch in rage. Granted, I took two sips, felt the tummy burn and then switched back to virgin diet pepsi, but still. Those who know me are impressed.

I'm working such insane hours, I can't get anything done during the week without paying the price for it. I cannot complain, it's so, so much better than night shift. (Have I mentioned that there are a total of 4 people I work with--Total, like, there are no others--and there is still drama galore? How does this happen?) I've managed to finagle my way into three day weekends during our peninsula's marooning (The bridge that leads the way onto and off of this peninsula is closed for 6 weeks, HOORAY FOR THAT.) but I hold out little hope that this will continue.

I'm tired, I'm stressed, I have so, so much to do and there seem to be road blocks thrown in my path at every turn.

I just want to sleep. Wake me when I'm married.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the bullshit surrounding our honeymoon. Yes, we're still going to Hawaii, but, like most other good things in my life, it comes with a fucking PRICE TAG.

So, in a month...

I'm not dead, I'm sorry! Life, it is insane. Do I even have any readers left? Who knows.

For anyone still out there:

-My mom was here.
-She left without my killing her. Miracles do happen.
-I had a bridal shower.
-It was flipping amazing. I'm still confused and reeling from having a party thrown for me. Like, with food and everything. It was great, I had fun, so did most of the people I've talked to. My ladies did an amazing job.
-When a friend sends me the damn pics I will post them. HINT. C. HINT.
-Day shift! I work day shift! It's amazing and great and I was taken to a shitty dive bar in the middle of the afternoon where I was heavily questioned (How do you scrape a bowl? How do you make pate a choux, and what is it typically used for? How many beers can you drink in one sitting? What are your feelings on wine? Shots? Answers: With a bowl scraper. By heating and stirring a whole lot, then adding eggs, then piping penis shapes and baking/filling them. Eclairs. Beer is good. Wine is good. Shots are good. I can't drink all that much of any of them. {Guess which question I got wrong?}) and my personality was checked (Am I a sick and twisted little bitch? Hooray!) by the ex-head pastry chef and current head pastry chef, and it has been determined that I officially have my 'stripes' and can call myself a pastry chef (chief!) as well. Crazy white coats that we be. I will never wear the hat.


That's it. Really. Just insanely busy, working a shit load, had people in town.

Sorry for the delay.

Quick Update

-I hate my job with a passion, but things very well will be improving soon. I have no hopes left to get up, however.

-T's baby brother came over and filled our house with the flu virus, which I picked up on Monday night, making Tuesday night at work HELL. Chills, fever, headache, muscle aches, pain, exhaustion. It was, to say the least, probably one of the worst days I have had in recent memory. I then spent the next two days (my weekend) sweating it out, generally feeling like a hot shit sandwich and sleeping. Now I'm just coughing all the damn time, but I'm not running hot, so it's off to work I go.

-Started training new people/my replacements at work. One ROCKS, one SUUUUCKS. I'm interested to see how this plays out. This contributed to the hell that was Tuesday.

-My sister has been diagnosed with Graves Disease, which is a hyperthyroid condition. It's hereditary. Off to the doctor I go after I'm married and have insurance.

-Pretty much finalized our trip to Maui for honeymooning. Must secure dates and times with appropriate parties.

-There was momentary panic about the potential for losing a blog and blog-friend. I even drafted a missive style email to this person trying to talk them out of quitting the internets. Then I looked twice at the post, caught the 'alot' and 'God Bless', realized the sarcasm, breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled. Then felt guilty for leaping before I looked.

-I'm cold. And tired. And I'm working a 13 hour day. So I'm done.

The Sweetest Thing

Twenty Eight Years Ago Today......a baby boy was born, in a large hospital in the Pacific Northwest. He grew up to become one of the best and funniest people I know, my best friend, my lovah, my confidante, and my husband.



He's also a snappy dresser.

Happy Birthday, honeybun. You are my heart. Here's to one hundred more.

Admission will set you free

Watch this video. I'll wait. (Can't embed, please bear with me. Sorry Brian--I know big brother is watching you.)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtUI5MC9tVM


Now.

Have we all finished? That's good.

I am embarrassed to admit how much I like this band. All the stuff I have heard by them--it makes me want to prance around in my underwear. Sing loudly in the car. General jackassery as a whole.

However.

This video? It is the REASON I stopped taking drugs. Anyone reading who has been under the influence of a hallucinogen--You know what I'm talking about.

It's all happy, and calm, and green, and people are dancing and happy, and one guy is all pretty and the other one looks like a skinny version of a dude we went to HS with wearing a dumb headband, happy happy happy Lord-Of-The-Rings meets the Ewok dance party thing meets the Rainbow Gathering.


Hey! Everyone is dancing and wearing bad clothes! That man has a giant bottle of Gatorade! Those girls are going to make out! They're singing into powder horns! Why is that man wearing a headdress? That's a really creepy mask! Hooray!

Then the grandfather of Teddy Ruxpin shows up with his gorilla band, being all creepy and animatronic and one toothed, but it's not so bad. No major buzz kill, really.

But then.

A bat flies by! They harpoon the moon! Then they sacrifice it and smear it's technicolor blood all over their bodies! Hooray! Let the freak out buzz kill begin! It's a celestial blood orgy over there!

Now the Teddy Ruxpin band is creepily singing along like the horrible puppets in the Labyrinth that pulled their heads off that scared me as a kid! More dancing while covered in the moon's technicolor dreamcoat sacrifice! Now effeminate boy and HS cracked out look alike are Hagrid-ing it up, riding motorcycles through space! Oh, wait, they didn't kill the moon....they set it free, so they could BLOW IT UP.

Yeah. This? This is me on drugs. Happy happy happy happy OHMYGODTHEMOONISDEADTHOSEGOODLOOKINGPEOPLEKILLEDITNOWITSEXPLODING
IHAVETOHIDETHISISN'TFUNANYMORETHATBEARISSTARINGATME.

Can you imagine watching this while on mushrooms or acid? Good lord, you wouldn't ever come back from something like that!

Don't do drugs, kids. Like poppy weird music sung by effeminate New Yorkers instead. It's safer.

(ALL their videos are fucked up like this! Some are even worse! Get ye to youtube and look! I'm impressed.) ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVnRzEjpUmE Good LORD! That one is an acid trip on it's own! Yeesh.)

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On a much lighter note?



If T and I ever buy a treadmill, we're getting a gaggle of them, just so we can do this. You think I'm lying.

A day in the life

Shall I show you a night at work in pictures?

Good.

This is the pastry sheeter, cruel mistress that she is.



This is the face of my nemesis.



This is a wad (about 45-50 pounds) of shitty, 'punky'* croissant dough, which has started to proof while waiting for me in the cooler, hence the yeasty-beasty bubbles.
(*'Punky' dough: Lumpy, wet, hard to work with. Tears rather than stretches, shreds, wads up. Isn't smooth and elastic.)



This is part of the reason I hate the pastry sheeter.



That white thing is a scraper of sorts that is directly in front of the rollers that smash the dough. It SUPPOSEDLY keeps the rollers clean and free of dough, butter and other bullshit. What it typically does is pop off, crash through the rollers, and cut a swath of destruction into the dough.



This is what the dough looks like after it has been sheeted. You start with the laminated (layered with butter) wad, smash it a whole bunch, and then do what I refer to as "the flop"--you make a little dough 'hammock' of sorts in your arms (Like you're carrying your bride over the threshold) and turn quickly to the table, where you flip one end out and up so that it lands flat on the table, then quickly pull your arm out and do the same thing backwards with your other arm, so that it settles gently to the table like a sheet on a bed. You have to do it quick so the dough doesn't stretch or tear. You make the dough go from an "M" shape, with your arms at the top points, to a flat line.

Whatever.



This is what you do after you sheet the dough. This is danish dough, and I have cut most of it and shaped it. The pastries you are seeing are called "Pinwheels"--they get cooked apple slices smashed into the points.



Unrelated side-bar photo: This is the other side of the bakery (On the other side of the wall from the sink in previous photos) where the bread is made. That huge metal thing is the bread oven. Not all of it is photographed--it won't fit.



This is the finished product. Well, almost finished. These are the pastries on the cooling rack--Nothing is iced or frosted yet. Coffee cakes, bear claws, croissants, danishes, etc.

So there.....It's what I do.

Gifts to myself

I'm, uh, well, quitting my job tomorrow. By quitting I mean telling my bosses that I need to get moved to days/cannot work nights any longer, period. When I called to make the 'appointment' to see one or both of them, I was told:

"Tell me what you want to talk about so we know what's up."

So I did--my schedule.

"What? You don't want to work graveyard any more? I thought you were a tough guy!"

Uhm, yeah. I thought I could do it, thought it would get easier, but it hasn't. It's killing me slowly. I know you guys are in a tough spot right now, I mean, with me being the only person on the shift, so I just thought we could start a------

"Ok, well, we will see you tomorrow at the bakery. If you're going to be staying on with us we can discuss your rate of pay."

Uh, again, I mostly just want to start a dialogue about all this so we can come to a conclusion that we're all comfortable with. I know that you told me that if there was ever a prob---

"Tomorrow, then." *Click*

That's nearly verbatim what was said.

I know my bosses and their reputations well enough to know that one of the following is going to take place.

1)They will tell me that since I have a 'bad attitude' and am not a 'team player', they no longer need my services. Fired.

2)They will try to manipulate me into staying my dangling money in front of me.

3)They will accept my statement of "Days or I quit by this date", then do nothing but make my life a living hell until that date, when I will quit.

They filled the daytime position. LIED to me. Yeah....I don't want to work for people like this.

Due to this meeting? I'm working a 13-14 hour day tomorrow. Rockin'.

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So today (Yesterday, now) was my birthday. My mom forgot how old I am, but still sent a card, so I guess that counts for something.

Went to my cousin's gallery closing gala thing, which was pretty damn neat. His new stuff is awesome.

Uhm....I slept a lot? Took a gigantic nap when I got home? Am forcing myself to stay awake now since I have such a shitty schedule tomorrow? Sigh.

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Watch.



Makes me think of cock rings performed this way, rather than wedding rings, which is what was intended. (Sorry, conservative members of my reading audience.)



This made my flipping day.

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Wish me luck tomorrow. I just have to remember--no matter the outcome, only good things can come from this. Even if things do REALLY suck for a little while.