For you

I wish there were some appropriate way for me to communicate with you. First I had to get over you as a former love; I accomplished that. Then I had to get over you as someone who was no longer helpless to our magnetism, someone who no longer felt the need to indulge in curiosity; I think I have accomplished that too. I am really proud of you for pushing me away, but I miss our friendship very much. I never thought I'd be able to stand the thought of you being immune to my presence, but now I am somehow happy for you, happy that you did the right thing for yourself and kept me out of your life. I miss you. I want you to be happy. I never want to bother you or disturb your peace, but things have changed and it's sad that we cannot share our stories of growth and success. This is my way of leaving it in a place where it will be found only if willfully sought.

Blog is Love

So, I'm about a month and a week into my work here at school, and I really adore it. Working with sex offenders has been nothing like I imagined, and I think it is a perfect mix of challenging/frustrating and fulfilling/fascinating. I know it's early yet, but I am already entertaining the possibility of specializing in sex offender treatment once I graduate. I had no idea I would ever be waltzing out of my office at night, sighing, "I love my group." But there is some really interesting work going on in there, and a lot of it gets to the heart of the human experience (as I see it, anyway), and it's really engaging. These are people. People love their families, struggle with their demons, worry when they have problems, get upset when their loved ones are hurting, and really just want to have a job, a loved one, maybe a kid or two, and a decent roof over their heads. These are, for my purposes, universal desires. I am learning a lot about what we all have in common, and the different roads taken in life.

Wow I sound like a hippie. Oh well!

Psych/Psych

Just kidding, I am not getting a cat. I did meet the kittens, but the adoption fell through so um...psych!

The second "psych" is my upcoming matriculation at grad school, which I am now hurtling toward. I am currently in Shreveport spending some relaxation time with my parents. But school looms, and last night when I arrived in town I was greeted by a packet from my future practicum supervisor. It is basically a workbook for sex offenders to work through with a detailed breakdown of what constitutes deviant sex and how to avoid the impulse to commit sexual offenses. The most jarring thing, I suppose, has been the thorough description of, say, the thought process involved with being a child molester, the motivations and rationalizations behind it, and how to try to reverse those thoughts. Tough stuff. And this is all in the abstract, in a workbook written by a psychologist. I imagine that in a few weeks when I am meeting these people, these molesters and rapists and exhibitionists, "jarring" willbe an inadequate word to convey the experience.

Still, I am fascinated and eager to learn. So far I don't feel averse in the least. I can't wait to start this new challenge.

New Kitty

I am soon to acquire a new cat. Kevin brought me a kitten from Lake Charles (it's a long story). This has prompted a bit of debate on my other blog about the appropriateness of pets as gifts. My friend dubbed the gesture "both charming and highly inappropriate!" I tend to agree, but I still like the people who have the balls to do stuff like that. I like the ones who actually say that, do that, take action, put it out there. Even when the effort backfires and the consequences are costly, in the end I have at least gained some respect for the person. Maybe I'll name the cat Balls.

Next phase

I am moving back to Texas in a month to attend graduate school in clinical psychology. I will be earning my doctorate of psychology over the next five years. New Orleans was wonderful beyond description, and I have now made it my home in my heart. My intention is to return here permanently after I graduate. It will be a long absence, but I believe that my studies in Texas will enable me to do some very fulfilling work in New Orleans once I return.

Selene posted something on her Facebook that got me thinking about this blog again. Digital camera now in tow, I am giving some consideration to reviving the Dial-A-View (again). We'll see.

You're in denial

These really aren't going to help you lose weight or become healthier.

Spoiled

I have this really awful habit when it comes to food. I only do it at home when there is no one around. I have a tendency to favor one part of whatever I'm eating while avoiding the other part. So I start discarding the unwanted parts and hoarding the good parts. I do this with all kinds of foods. One of the worst is ice cream. Sometimes I like the chunks (cherries, brownie pieces, and chocolate-covered peanuts are good), so halfway through the pint, I end up digging around and combing through the half-melted ice cream, eating all the chunks, and then pouring the remnants down the kitchen sink. There's usually more than half a pint of ice cream that I have no use for. But sometimes I don't like the chunks (not a big fan of tree nuts, chocolate chips, or cookie dough), so I eat a spoonful and spit the chunks out after I've stolen the ice cream around it. It's gross, I know.

If you were spying on me, you might also see: a pile of Oreo creme that I've scraped off from the cookie ends, the bottom half of a round of focaccia (since the top has the herbs and cheese), half the rice from a Chipotle burrito scraped out onto a plate, the hollow crust of what was a spinach quiche, or a precarious lump of Mascarpone filling that has been robbed of its ladyfinger scaffolding (tiramisu). It's a filthy habit, but I am really picky about flavor proportions, and it seems like I need to adjust them to my taste quite often.

I decided to write this because right now, I'm eating an almond Snickers that Jesus left at my place after Halloween, and I'm spitting out everything but the almonds.

Old is new again

Generally I abhor Camaros, but I really want the new one. Hot!

A Shame

At night, blueberry Nutri-Grain Bars go to sleep and dream of being blueberry Honey Maid Snack Bars. Woe is the vile and unworthy Nutri-Grain Bar.

Girl Talk

I had possibly the girliest excursion of my life yesterday evening. Rachel invited me to go shopping with her at NorthPark mall for some private sale at Neiman Marcus. We also met up with her friend Sydney, who used to do the job that I do now. After spending about thirty seconds at the silly private "sale," we set off roaming around the mall. Sydney gave me tons of helpful information and advice about the complicated work dynamic that I am now a member of. We also traded just about every bit of dirt we could possibly recall about our coworkers. It was particularly fun to collaborate all the incomplete clues we individually knew to piece together the full story of what went down. And some things made a lot more sense in retrospect after talking with Sydney about the history of the restaurant.

While doing this, we tried on shoes at Nine West, lusted over tops at Guess, fondled scarves at Bebe, sampled eyeliner at MAC, and got our hands spice-scrubbed at Origins. In one particularly Sex and the City moment, the three of us gathered around the sides of a square display stand and did a little drumroll on the shelf to precede a very hot and scandalous divulgence. The salesguy even came by to join our powwow and picked up some information too. After that, we discussed the most recent results of the "Who's hot?" game (a favorite among my coworkers, it seems) and dispensed advice to Sydney about her current dating quandary. Our evening concluded with plans to go bargain-hunting at Ross this weekend.

Hee. I had a load of fun, but I need a game of poker and a copy of Reservoir Dogs now.

Sludge

My workplace is the most incestuous and gossipy place ever! Gossip there travels at mach 7. I hear about the horrible things I've done about a week before I've done them. I know that the restaurant biz is known for this, but SHEESH.

Pitiful

Some people never, ever learn.

Charmed Life

I was at work this morning, placidly answering the reservation phones, when I got a call from chef Tim. I had met him just last week and chatted very briefly with him about food and culinary school. When I picked up the phone, he said, "Um, I don't usually do this but...I have two expensive tickets to a concert tonight and no one to take. Can you go?" Thus, I scored floor seats to see Depeche Mode and The Bravery...for free.

I'm not a huge fan of either band, but I was more than happy to see a legendary group and their buzzworthy opening act on an otherwise pedestrian Tuesday evening. I was supposed to work dinner tonight, but I managed to call in a favor and get another girl to cover the second half of my double shift. I rushed home after work and glammed myself up as much as I could in twenty minutes. Viewable here are the questionable results.


I know how it looks, but I promise I applied my makeup in a symmetrical fashion. The lopsided color is just a trick of the light.

So we drove downtown listening to Playing the Angel (thanks to Miles for burning me a copy) and arrived just in time to grab a drink and catch The Bravery coming onstage. Nice set from them. And we were so close to the stage! After the usual wait between sets, Depeche Mode came onstage in all their legendary glory. They opened with "A Pain That I'm Used To" and played several more of their new songs in addition to most of their classics. The crowd was energetic throughout, but finally broke through to frenzy during "I Feel You," about halfway through the set. Tim and I danced like crazy all through the second half of the show. Other highlights include "Enjoy the Silence," "Precious," "I Want It All," and "Home." By the end, everyone was worked up to a fever pitch and we were able to elicit two encores and made a respectable attempt for a third, but the house lights came up after the second one.

Depeche Mode put on a spectacular show. As an initiate to their music, I was quite impressed by their enthusiasm and sincerity. I could have easily forgiven a bit of half-assery from a band that's been around for over twenty years, but they really seemed to be enjoying it as if it was their first time to play in front of the gathered thousands. On top of that, both singers still sounded great. It really was a fantastic concert.

After the show, we had a couple of drinks at the State and Allen lounge and Tim gave me some more to think about regarding cooking school. Yeah yeah, hobby and all...we'll see what the next year brings for me. We listened to Eminem on the way back to my place and he dropped me off around 1am. I should be asleep right now, but I had to blog about my fortuitous and surprising day. I had a great time. I lead a charmed life.

AZN Pride

As I gradually get to know my coworkers better, I find that most of them have intriguing stories and lofty goals. I've already talked to a chef who used to work at The Mansion at the same time I did (though we hardly remember each other), an eighteen year old cocktail server who wants to be an actress and philanthropist, a runner who is trying to compete in ultimate fighting in Brazil, and a server who wants to open his own restaurant in Dallas after working in New York City for a couple of years.

The last one is Tuan, who showed me Sushi Yama tonight. This place is incredible! Hey JETs...I've found a place in Dallas that serves ocha zuke, yakisoba, kara age, onigiri, kushi katsu, and much more...and they stay open until 2am. What a find. I even had a melon soda for the first time since July. Although I had never even heard of the place, it is right down the street from my apartment (about a 45-second drive), and I get the feeling I'll be a frequent visitor. Tuan and I talked over grilled mackerel and hamachi collar about cooking, the restaurant business, and what color yamagobo (mountain burdock root) should be. He had a few words of advice should I decide to try my hand at serving, too. Our strangest foods ever eaten: raw pig fat (me), duck fetus (him). Then he taught me a phrase or two of Vietnamese and I taught him some Japanese.

My workplace has a panoply of Asians, actually. We have Filipinos, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, and seemingly every combination therein. It's funny how racial profiling seems to have worked in our favor for this place. But the bottom line is, just about everyone I work with has proved to be funny, cool, friendly, interesting, or otherwise worthwhile. I was talking with someone last night about how it doesn't feel nearly as factional as most restaurants tend to be, and how pleasant that is.

I'm so happy to have found Sushi Yama. It'll be my home away from Iwakuni.

The return of the fighting spirit

As it turns out, last week was a definitive time for me. I feel like I have turned a corner. Somehow, a handful of little events lined up and conveyed their message to me. One such event was buying myself a starter set of Henckels knives. Another was quitting the second job. There were probably a few more.

Yes, I am the one who took a large overdose in July. Yes, I am the one who cowered for the next eight weeks in Shreveport, walking the halls like a zombie. Yes, I am the one who was tearfully panicked about lack of employment a few weeks ago. But that chapter is finally over. I am reminded of the things that make me happy in life: clever jokes, memorable people, poignant songs, transcendental food, graciously giving and gratefully receiving. I really don't have the time to worry about the other, less meaningful stuff, and currently I don't much have the inclination to, either. After all is said and done, who must I answer solely to? Oh, yeah: myself.

I am feeling less stressed, less apprehensive, more accepting, and more certain. Sure, it won't last forever. But I figured it would be nice to document it while it's still here.