I'm here for how long?

Sunday, July 12, 2009

I can't believe I'm stuck here for a week. I don't use the phrase "FML," but if I did, this would be the time. We started at like 8 a.m. today and I'm just now getting back into my room. And note to self: Chuck Taylor's are not comfortable shoes. I had to buy black soled shoes so I figured CT's would be my best option rather than buying those creepy black squeaky velcro shoes from WalMart. But I now know that Chucks discriminate. They discriminate against fat foot'ed people like myself. I think I have a little more empathy for what large people must feel like in an airplane. A part of me just wants to guy buy some alcohol so I can pass out. I slept for a total of 4 hours last night thanks to the humming of the air conditioner. But Im being dramatic. Beside the shoes and the lack of sleep today wasn't that bad. It was basically cooking school 101. I learned some new knife skills, this shold assist me when I have to move to a ghetto apartment in KC. And I ate a lot of good food. I just wish at the end of the day I could return to my own home rather than a foreign hotel room. But what can you do. I'm gonna hit the gym now (carpeted room with a treadmill and 2 sets of weights) to boost some endorphins. See ya soon. Tay.

Day 1 of my "real job"

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Perhaps a night of heavy drinking at Beer and Loathing the night before a morning flight wasn't the best idea. Last night I had the beer (vodka) and today I'm having the loathing. Lot's of loathing, actually. Let's talk about incident number one.

So I'm waiting in the dreaded check-in line at the airport, keep in mind I'm hung the hell over, tired and slightly hungry, when a middle aged woman bumps me from behind with her protuding F.U.P.A. and knocks me to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, "are you in line?"

I honestly didn't know what to say. No, I'm not line, I just enjoy mingling with travelers and the always friendly airport workers. Are you kidding me?

"Ya, I am, but go ahead." I noticed the woman was wearing one of those free animal t shirts you get when you donate to Sarah McLachlan's ridiculously sad cat/dog foundation so I decided I should spare her a sarcastic comment. Anyone who falls for that commercial is good in my book.

So I eventually got my seat assignment and was pleased to see I was in seat 14. Not exactly the front, but at least it was close. Or not. Turns out I was flying on a Mattel toy plane; there was only 15 rows total. I settled into my seat and was greeted by a crying baby in front of me. The guy next to me looked about as hungover as I felt so I decided to make convo with him,

"This baby is going to be the death of me," I said quietly so the large mama wouldn't hear,"I wish the airlines would make it mandatory that mom's have to put sleeping pills in their childs formula."

"Mandatory to drug babies? Is that what you just said?"

Well shit, when you put it that way. I was only kidding. Feeling incredibly awkward and no longer wanting to try to make convo with Mr.Scientology apparently, I quickly put on my ipod and turned away.

So as of now I'm en route to Pittsburgh to begin my first "real job" training. I don't know why I put the words real job in quotes, it just feels better that way. Tomorrow morning I have to meet in the lobby at 8 a.m. in my chef attire (white t shirt, black pants and black soled shoes) to begin my cooking classes. Should be exciting. But for now I'm gonna start reading the book I just picked up from Barnes and Noble yesterday to ensure that through out this week of training I will be able to "find and use my mental rocket fuel."

But one more thing, my newest life goal is to become a food critic so I'm going to take this time to review the restaurant me and Chris went to last night in Omaha called "Espana."

Overall ambience gets an A, I enjoyed the Spanish photographs on the wall and dim lighting, and the ethnic looking Americans playing and singing Spanish music was pretty great too. The female singers had the Euro trash look down pat with their light denim jeans, black lacey spaghetti strap tanks and their white platform sandals. Here's my take on the important part, the food, mind you I don't know much about food (yet) besides how it tastes so here is what I have to say: The paella dish was delicious, not too salty, but perfectly seasoned, and the chicken, shrimp and calamari mixed in was cooked to perfection. But then we found the roach, not literally, I'm talking about the bill that was delivered at the end of the meal. $40+ for a dish that consists mainly of rice are you kidding me? And over $25 for sangria? I mean it was good, but it didn't even give me a slight buzz after four glasses, I think the main ingredient was welches grape juice. Bottom line is the food was good, service was okay, so would I go back? Yes, but not until I am no longer living on a college student's bank account. So there you have it, my first review, (they'll get better I promise.)

See you tomorrow after I get to meet all the other "rookies," that's what they're calling us all week. I'm hoping we get paddled at some point during the week.