Hills edish #1

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

So where do I begin? Should I start with Stephanie's new crazy eyes or perma spray tan face? Or about what a snappy skank Lo is? I'm just not ready to even divulge into Heidi/Cat Woman yet. I can say though that I can see why Holly is as sweet as she is, it's because she comes from a good family. Heidi's fam really won my heart over this episode, they were hilar. But really though, what is a mom supposed to say when her daughter looks like Vanilla Sky? I thought mama Montag dealt with it pretty nicely, actually. I think Heidi makes Holly look like a ten- see I knew Holly would be pretty this season. And was I right, or was I right about Stephanie Pratt's pouty puzzled look she uses quite frequently.
Now let's talk about the nasty trio Lo, Aud, and Stephanie. Okay, its Super Bowl weekend in Miami and let's just have a "low key" night in the hotel. Ya um boo-oring. They're just such your typical catty girls the way they sneak into Kristen's room pretending they want to make sure she makes it to the airport, but then proceed to say things like "it smells nasty in here," and "are we seriously going to be seen with her in public?" Well the room sure looked a lot better than any room I've walked into after a night of partying. Where were all the pizza boxes? Or scmeegos bags and salsa containers? At least Kristen can embrace her hungoverness. I like the raspy voice and greasy hair, unlike Stephy Pratt whose face is always dripping in foundation and glossy lips. Kristen is getting prettier and prettier, if she is on crack it's really working wonders for her. Mabey Lo should try some of Kristen's candy because she is looking more like Minnie Mouse every minute. I still can't get over Stephy telling Kristen, "your legs are like really skinny." Hahahahaha classic, Pratty, classic. So here we have Prat-a-tattat accusing Kristen of being too skinny and also having a problem with drugs- um hello you're currently in AA and your a well known bulimic. Nice try. More to come next week, I'm still digesting Heidi's face and it's affecting my thoughts. I'm almost sure I'm going to have nightmares tonight because of it.

The Hills

Well… tonight the Hill’s begins. I hate to say it, but I am pretty excited. I just love to see how the people evolve every season from less of a real person and more into their character on the show. And they always get more better looking/robot -like after every year. How skinny will Stephanie Pratt be this year and what will her face look like? How many times will she just do that puzzled look and pout her lips toward the camera when her brain can’t come up with a response- or perhaps the script actually says “Stephanie: Don’t think, look at camera and pout lips.” I am just dying to see how creepy Heidi looks. She is officially an E-cup now. I hope Heidi breaks up with Spencer and dates Enzo, and then Spencer can date Lo or maybe Stephanie. I used to really like Lo, but now she bores me. She has taken on Lauren’s lack of personality. The only thing Lo does is instigate fights between Kristen and Audrina, that is honestly her only role on the show. She bounces back and fourth between lunches and simply asks questions about the newest fights hoping to spark more tension. Speaking of Audrina- did I mention I found out Justin Bobby was a hair dresser before he became oh so famous on the Hills? I love it. K and A were apparently fighting over a hair dresser. And supposedly Kristen gets accused of doing drugs this season. I guess I am just saddened to think that Audrina is going to claim she has never used narcotics before, does that mean she was 100% sober when she got that hideous tat on her neck? Because I would rather say I was a druggy than claim I chose to get a softball sized tattoo on the back of my neck. And what is taking Audrina so long to get an upper lip? Everyone else’s lips keep getting bigger and Audrina still only has her bottom lip. I still would like a reason as to why/how Drina was added to this show. God knows is wasn’t because of her booming personality. Then again, there hasn’t exactly been a great history of persnoality plus people (Whitney Port, Lauren, Jason, Jessica, Talan, the list goes on ending with Breanna “Giant chin” Conrad, (LC obviously beat her lil sis repeadtedly with the ugly stick.) I sure would like to know what insecure Jessica is up to these days, most probably don’t remember this girl. I think she started as Kristen’s friend, then transitioned into Jason’s girlfriend, and ended as a waitress serving her old cast mates lunch during current tapings. Speaking of current… I am quite excited to see my favorite drunk sister, Holly, make an appearance- hopefully a drunken one. Sometimes I think Holly is the only one that doesn’t seem to get the script sent to her in the mail like the rest of the cast. I think Holly might be the last person on the show who still actually thinks is it 100% real, everyone else probably has rehearsals and run throughs and no one ever tells Holly about them but she always somehow manages to show up where they’re taping with a drink in hand. I’m just scared Holly is going to appear looking actually pretty on this season, but I really hope not, the show needs at least one DUF. I’m not saying I think Stephanie is good looking by any means, in fact, sometimes I question if Spencer and Stephanie are not actually the same person. I mean we rarely see them taped together… It could be like the camera tricks used by La Lohan in Parent Trap. Ooooh wouldn’t that be a great twist! Depending how annoyed I am with this season I might have to start a special blog edition of the Hills. Oh who am I kidding I am forsure going to have a Hills edition how could I not.


Friday, April 23, 2010

So I am driving from Columbia to St. Louis today and it was like three semi truckers in a row that proceeded to honk when I drove by. I couldn't figure out what in the heck was going on. Were they excited I was from Nebraska maybe? Perhaps they were signaling an accident up ahead? Or maybe it had nothing to do with me, I didn't know. So I am about to pass another trucker when I happen to notice that the reason they are honking might have something to do with the fact that I was sitting completely stretched with one leg up on the dash the other on the floor- did I mention I spoke in a fashion class today so I was wearing a skirt?... Ick. But c'mon it's a long drive I wanted to be comfortable. I didn't realize I was giving the nasty truckers a Britney show, luckily, going commando isn't something I am into though. But still gross. I hate truckers. They are my main competitors on the road. And believe you me, I have called their "1-800-How-Am-I-Driving?" numbers more than once and given them a piece of my mind. Just because you drive an obese truck does not mean you can boot little Camrys off the road with the simple switch of your blinker. Not my Camry, anyway. Speaking of rude people, I arrived in St. Louis a bit ahead of schedule, so to waste time while waiting for Chris to get off work I decided Izzy and I should go sit outside at Panera and have a smoothie. So I go inside to order, carrying Izzy in her red doggy carrier, a carrier that looks more like a purse. Keep in mind I have taken Izzy into many hotels, stores, restaurants, some very nice restaurants actually, without a problem. Some wench of a dog whisperer behind the counter apparently sensed a dog in the restaurant and came hauling out to me to say,
"You can't have a dog in here."
So I said, "I do not plan to eat in here, I am going to eat outside."
"Well you can have her on the patio, but not in here."
"Yes, I think we have clarified that, thus the reason I am getting this to go so I will eat it outside." What the hell was this womans problem?
"Well she's in here now."
"Okay, do you have a place to order outside?"
"So what do you intend I do? Shall I yell my order from the patio? Will that suffice?"
"Well you can order and pay, but then she has to go outside."
Rude. So I order, go outside, and then my name is called so what do I do? Well, I go back inside, carrying the dog carrier. Did this woman truly expect me to leave a tea cup Yorkie outside alone in St. Louis? I mean there is a reason many a great rapper come from this place. It's ghettttto. So when I enter this time she is bitching to an older man, looks like he might be her boss. He sees me enter and says,
"Can we help you?"
Uh, ya, I want to get my food I paid for, douche.
"Just coming to get my food."
The lady continues to glare, so now I'm fired up.
"For your information, I can bring this dog in here if I want. She is a therapy dog, so technically I can bring her in anywhere I want. I am not choosing to sit inside and eat, but I would like to let you know she is licensed, so I could if I choose." Lie. Well, therapy dogs are real, and if your dog is registered as one, they can be taken absolutely anywhere. The lie is that Izzy is not.
Boss man looks kinda nervous, so he tries to be nice to me.
"Oh does that mean she is really nice?"
"Yes, and it also means she is the size of my cell phone."
Bitch woman responds,
"Well do you have something saying she is licensed?"
"Yes, actually I do. But I stopped carrying the certificate with me given the fact that I have never come across a problem ever before. Well before this place."
And lady says,
"Okay, well I see, we just have to be careful because we could lose our job."
Don't worry lady,your coveted cashier spot at Panera is safe. So now I am still sitting outside on their patio, and as soon as Izzy is ready to leave behind one of her infamous tootsie rolls we will be on our merry way.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Today is just one of those days. A worse day than little Alexander claimed to have-anyone remember this book by the way? I can't help but wonder what on earth could have been so bad about her day considering she was 7 years old? Bet she didn't get a speeding ticket on her way to work, and I sure bet trashy high school rats were not rude to her either. She's 7 for God's sake, did her mom forget to pack an extra Dunkaroo in her lunch? Or perhaps her brother drank the last of her cereal milk, then again, this still really pisses me off today. I need to find that book and read it again because I am pretty damn sure her day could not have been that bad.
I woke up late today/chose to ignore my alarm to sleep for about 10 minutes longer. Stepped out of bed and into Izzy's piddle mark. Right next to the bed Izzy really, did you drink last night or something? I am running a couple of minutes late, nbd though, I wasn't in the mood to work today and every minute late is one less minute I have to talk. I am approaching my exit, going with the speed of traffic, perhaps a bit above, but how the hell should I know that I AM MOVING WITH THE SPEED OF TRAFFIC. Cherries behind me. Greatttt, I don't get nervous like I usually do. I'm just pissed because I know I wasn't going that much faster than anyone else. So cop walks up to me and I roll down my window and by force of habit take of my seat belt, then think better and quickly put it back on.
"Good morning officer, did you pull me over for speeding?" I ask, mind you, I have never argued a ticket before, considering I usually deserve one.
"Yes, I clocked you at 79 mph. I could barely get it off."
That's what she said. I can't help it but I think of Michale Scott jokes all the time now.
"Nooo, really? Nooo. I don't argue for tickets, but I really don't think I was." This is shit.
"Yes, I lazered your license plate at 79 in a 65. License and registration. Where are you headed?"
"But I was going with the speed of traffic. To work"
"The speed of traffic is too fast. You're a chef?" He glances at my chef jacket.
"Well why me then? And no."
"You're the one I got. My brother is a chef. He loves it. Is that a knife kit?"
I sense a potential to schmooze.
"Well yes, I am a chef, actually. And this? Yes, this is my knife kit- would you like to see?"
Blah blah blah. He walks back to his car. I tell myself warning, warning, warning. By now I am really late for work. He walks back and hands me a flipping ticket.
"Is your dad Jay Wolfe?" he asks. I'm pissed by now, and no time for small talk.
"Yes, yes he is. How much is this ticket for?"
"Wow." He looks pretty impressed.
Not that selling insurance isn't impressive, but then it hit me that he thinks my dad is thee Jay Wolfe of like the mass amounts of car dealerships here in KC, it's a pretty big name.
"Do you really think if my dad owned numerous car dealerships I would choose to drive a Toyota Camry?" What a dumbass. Now I really want to go off. "But really now, you think I would choose to drive a car that is typically only driven by 30 year old Dads who probably hold a nice little manager position at an Office Depot that has suddenly allowed them to upgrade from their old Cavalier they've driven since high school and onto a fancy little Camry that can now fit their growing family of five in the back seat for those nice get-aways across town to Worlds of Fun or a Royals Game?" Eeek. Too much coffee for me today, apparently.
"Oh, well, maybe not." He looks a little stunned at my rant." So he isn't then?"
"No. How much is the ticket?"
"Well I got you at 700..."
700 is the last number I heard before I started to have a mini heart attack. I instantly thought of that crazy old lady who jumped out of her car and caused the cop to tazer her. Maybe if I go completely ape shit I could end up on the Today Show, as well. I could just hear Meredith saying,
"Next up we'll speak with a young girl who was tazered for a routine traffic stop on her way to give a motivational speech to high school students." The camera would show me sitting on the Today Couch smiling sweetly dressed in a navy Marc Jacob blazer (I would borrow it from the clothing closet.)
"I clocked you at 700 hundred feet away, but you have to go online to get the price."
Okay, at least my ticket isn't $700. But I am still fuming. I start to beg.
"Well, can't you just give me a warning, I just don't think it's fair, how do you know you got me? All the cars were going this fast."
"Some people just need citations."
"And why is that me? Why do I need a ticket?"
"Well you were going more than 10 over. It's just how it works." And that was that. This little piggy went back to his cop car and I went to high school.
I spent the first ten minutes ranting to the kiddos about my ticket, first hour was really sympathetic. The next hour was a bunch of jerks. Saying things like,
"oh this looks gross," "omg this is nasty," "ewww who eats that?" I realllllly have to bite my tongue to not snap back with,
"Well white trash kids like you obviously don't, but if you guys ever get the luxury to have a dinner out that doesn't involve the words Popeye's or Long John Silvers, some day you might get to eat things like the rest of the privileged world." But until then, continue to be rude little assholes. I mean seriously, where were these inbreds raised to think it is okay to say such nasty comments to a person who is making them food? Imagine walking into a friend's house and saying how disgusting the food smells or looks that their mom has just made. I mean it's kinda the same thing. I better cool my jets here at Starbucks or next hour could get bad. If one kid says just one thing impolite Taylor's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day will reach an epic level of nastiness. And yes, I just said epic.


Tuesday, April 20, 2010

So initially, I was dreading speaking in classes today. Any day that gives students a reason to be excited is always an awful day to speak. But first hour I was pleasantly surprised. I had the experienced pot heads in class evidently. They were extremely mellow, friendly and really interested in everything I had to say, especially when I showed them photos of fruit carvings which really "blew their mind." I have broken the smokers into three categories: The first I mentioned are the regular dopers- although today is a special holiday for them it's not exactly anything out of the ordinary, coming to class high is something they do on a regular basis. So they know how to deal with it, they also happen to be incredibly intrigued with every food slide I show and want to know more. The second group is much worse: it's the "I don't smoke pot that often so I want to make sure everyone knows I am high today," group. These are the students who confuse getting high with getting drunk. I had to bite my tongue second hour with a couple of stoners who were so obnoxious I wanted to smack them with my knife. These were the type who attempted to act like every pot smoker from movies they had ever seen, whether it was just staring at a pencil for minutes, or making hand puppets by sticking their damn hand in front of my projector light or just saying stupid shit like, " ohhh man are you like gona work with a knife? Like a real knife?" I also heard, "dude, you're like wearing Chuck Taylors. I didn't know teachers wore Chuck Taylor's that's sweet man." Alright ya little douche bag Chucks are not only way before your and my time, they're from the typical teacher's age- an age in which 4:20 was not even thought of because the people from the 70's smoked pot at all times of the day, they could have cared less about waiting til after school. The third group might be worse than the second- it's the girl pot heads. The giggle boxes- no pun intended hehe. The girls took cue from both the first and second group. They tried to be mellow, and also stare and shit, and always ended up laughing hysterically. And they might have officially ruined one of my fav songs right now, everything they said ended with "I can make your bed rock,hahahahaha, like bed that rocks, hahahahahahha, but like Flinstones, omg." And one of the most annoying things was they acted like I had no idea what 4:20 was, as if their age group invented it. Pshh. Not that I care, I have really always despised 4/20 on account of going to high school with a bunch of assbags from group number 2. I have one more class to speak in, and it's going to be a class coming straight from lunch. Ugh.

Career Centers

Friday, April 16, 2010

I am not sure who I pissed off at Marriott, but clearly, it was someone. Not only was there no cookies awaiting my arrival, but there was not an upgrade to a suite, either. Instead, I found myself in a room with two queen beds and hand rails on every wall, and a four foot sink and shower head- apparently when I checked in the man behind the front desk failed to notice I walked in rather than rolled. That’s the thing about randomly upgrading people, you can’t just do it once, because then people will expect it every time. I even had Izzy along with me for this trip so I was kind of looking forward to giving her some water experience in the hot tub I assumed would be right next to my bed. Does Marriott not realize I am a frequent traveling business woman? I am not someone they want to piss off. I will take my points to Hilton if they’re not careful.
So today I am speaking at a Career Center. These career centers are places where high schoolers take classes outside of their normal high schools in specialized areas. They’re either a place where students go to get out of regular class, or they’re hard core career focused centers. Today is hard core. I walked in to a culinary room to find three chefs, like real chefs, not Taylor chefs, awaiting my arrival. There was a large flat sceen in the front of the room, and then one in each corner. Shit, shit, shit, these places always make me nervous. I suddenly wished I hadn’t bathed in the self tanner last night, right before walking in I noticed in my car mirror that it appeared as if I had three large bruises, or burns, or in the eyes of high school kids, three large hickys on my neck where I failed to rub in the tanner. Or worse, what if they just looked like dirt marks? Would I rather the chefs think I was skanky or just dirty? Damn, tough question.
Luckily, these were nice chefs. Very accommodating. Too accommodating, almost. They asked me questions I had no idea how to answer, like did I prefer a stainless steel counter top or vinyl? Um. Did I need to use a wash sink, prep sink, or temp control sink? Would I need to borrow a steel? A what? And lastly, would I like an espresso or cappuccino? Well considering it’s not 1995, I asked for a latte. As I was giving my presentation I had to think carefully before speaking, sometimes I accidentally make up facts/stats/info whatever. I say stuff the kids like to hear, like an average wedding cake costs $5000 or chocolate torts share the same thickness as cheesecakse, I don’t know where I get this stuff. I think I’ve made it up, but I’ve said it so much it just sounds true now. But would it sound true to a real chef? What else have I made up I wonder as I continue to babble.
After it’s all done the chefs seemed pleased. They even ask me to come back to their kitchen to taste test a few things they are working on. So first I try some Pomegranate- Strawberry sherbet, I try to think of culinary words to say,
“Yum, very refreshing. Feels good on my palette.”
Now I try pistachio cranberry sorbet.
“These two flavors play off each other very nicely. Feels good on my palette.”
And then they bring a spicy rice pilaf forward.
“This has a very rich and robust flavor. It feels good on my palette?”
So it’s only 10 a.m. and I am practically full. But I find myself once again at one of my favorite Starbucks breaks. It’s a bit dreary outside, but from inside a Norah Jones filled Starbucks while sipping a caramel Latter it seems to be absolutely perfect out.


Wednesday, April 14, 2010

So I think the dangerous thing about drinking alone is that lack of conversation leads to more alcohol consumption. I mean it makes sense. I can only FB stalk in between drinks for so long before I look down and my glass appears to be empty. And before I know it it's only 8 p.m. at night and I have drank an entire bottle on my own, it's crazy how that happens. But let's be honest, I drank a bottle of Riesling, which is basically sugar water. And I only drank Riesling because I am completely on my own so I felt no one would be able to judge me and the fact that I drink a wine mostly only 15 year olds prefer. It's also just too hot outside for red wine. Otherwise, I would have much preferred to be sitting outside on my balcony sipping a deep Cabernet, obviously, all while reading the news regarding politics and stocks and other very important information. Drinking an entire bottle of dessert wine while searching PerezHilton is not something I like to admit to. But when you finish work at noon what in the hell else are you supposed to do? At least I made myself wait this long to crack open a bottle. This whole "I don't have friends in Kansas City" thing is starting to get a little bit old. The most social interaction I have had with people my age this week has occurred at the Mac Store because my damn computer keeps acting up. And those Mac people are just a byte off. Oh wow, I just made a Mac joke. That's awful, I have spent too much time conversing with Andrew and Keith this week. At least I got a new iphone out of it though.
Well my birthday is almost officially one month away. I think I might be officially the only person who still seems to get excited for bdays. I am sad I am leaving age 22, I mean duh it's my fav number- I don't have it on a gold chain for nothing! But, I am not like all depressed I'm turning 23, people say bdays only go downhill after 21. Not for me. I still get that "my birthday is approaching feeling," that feeling I guess most people stopped getting around age ten. Hell, I even get it for my friends bday, like KATES!!! I keep getting excited today and I forget why until I remember her bday is tomorrow, and Kim's is next week, I know it's pretty weird that I get bday butterflys for other people but I do. I think mostly because I know mine is right around the corner after theirs. I just think bdays are great. Someday I hope that cute old man on the Today Show will talk about me during his Smuckers Birthday moments. Although he might be dead by then, so in that case I hope it's old Meredith who has been pushed aside only allowed to discuss "news" that involves old peoples birthdays.

Gangsters Paradise

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I definitely jinxed myself with my cocky little "I'm not afraid of the ghetto" post yesterday. Today I saw the ghetto of the ghetto. It was a school I had never been to, a school I don't think any representative from anywhere has ever been to for that matter. In fact I know this because the teacher told me "most guest speakers won't come to our school." That's comforting. I knew the area was bad when it wasn't just the liquor stores with bars on their windows, but the Churches had them, as well. I saw women walking around in night gowns completely barefoot. In their defense, it was quite warm out today. And who hasn't walked around downtown Kansas City barefoot on their way into a liquor store at 9 in the morning? And then I drove into a cute little Mexican area, I jotted down a few restaurants I would like to return to. The high school was tucked away in a very old neighborhood, it was in between two apartment buildings that appeared to both have been set on fire a while ago. The high school was a huge old brick building surrounded by a metal fence. I double checked the sign to make sure I was indeed at a school and not a juvenile center. So I parked my car, took my GPS out of the front window, hid my sunglasses under my seat and buried my purse under a chefs jacket and two Target sacks just to be safe and then proceeded to lock my car at least five times and make my way in. As I was entering the school I could have sworn I heard the song "Gangsters Paradise" playing somewhere in the distance. Once inside I was greeted by a she-cop with very long braids hanging down her back.
I walked through the metal detector, this is something I have been accustomed to as of late. Naturally, it began to beep. The cop lady looked at me suspiciously.
"Oh it's ok," I said, "I bet my knives just set it off."
I don't think she was expecting me to say this.
"Yo wut?"
"My knifes, here you can see." I proceeded to hand her my knife kit which I had stylishly slung around my side.
"Ima need to see in all yo bags."
Okay. I didn't think this was really necessary, nor did I appreciate the way she was glaring at me and my knives. I'm dressed in a chefs coat for God's sake, what did she think this was all a part of some new gang? Blonde white girls in chef coats-we're known as the Whites. Anyway, she proceeds to dig through my suitcase, computer bag and then of course my big red cooler, as well. After she doesn't find any drugs or guns or the like, she decides to give me my visitor badge after checking over my ID. She then gets on her little walkie talkie and announces that visitor badge #4 has been assigned to a 5'8 white female who is on her way to the Home Ec room. Once again, I questioned whether I was in a school or a prison. An escort arrived at the entrance to lead me to the room I was speaking in. As I was led through the school I began to wonder if the announcement of a "white female visitor" was truly necessary as I clearly stood out like a sore white thumb. But, every teacher I passed was incredibly friendly. Like I said, guest speakers weren't exactly a common thing here. When the Home Ec teacher saw me she literally greeted me with a huge hug and repeatedly told me how thrilled she was to have me. And the kids didn't even bitch about me making a salad, no one even asked for fried chicken, and only a few wanted Kool Aid at the end. So all in all not a bad day, as I was sipping my iced coffee at about noon while sitting outside at a coffee shop in the Plaza I kinda felt bad for complaining about this job as much as I do. Just kinda though, because then I instantly thought of myself on that damn unicycle with the circus music playing and that feeling of dread came rushing back that I have to do my culinary tap dance all over again tomorrow.

The Projects

Monday, April 12, 2010

So today I accidentally stumbled across a public housing project deep in the ghetto of KC. I was quite excited. The Projects absolutely intrigue the bejeesus outta me. I shouldn't have been all that surprised though given the fact that as I was leaving the school in that area I passed by a few students getting escorted out of the school in handcuffs by police officers. No big deal, just another day at the office I suppose. But anyway, I drove by the Project a few times, just to make sure it was indeed a "project" as I suspected. I tried to read the rusty and bullet hole decorated sign out front as best as I could, and then I googled it, and sure enough the internet proved me to be right. The first result listed was "Kansas City, Kansas Government Funded Housing Projects." So then I came home and looked through all of my interest cards I had collected to try to figure out which students lived there. I was extremely disappointed to find that the most interested boy in class who said he wanted to study animation was a project baby. Poor kid, he'll never be able to afford the school. I thought for just a second about scheming a way for me to pay his tuition somehow. But then I remembered the fiasco that was "Scott's Tots," and figured I better leave this problem to the ol gov't once again before I get in too deep and began plotting my own "Tay's Tots" or maybe I would call it "Tay's terTots." Nevermind that though, I'm sure Obama will figure something out. So besides the Projects in this area, there are also quite a few barbecue joints, as well. This one particular restaurant on the corner had a sign that said "Home of the Best Baked Beans." Say no more. I am a bit of a connoisseur of bakes beans, you might say. Even in the 3rd grade when it was strictly taboo and against the social rules of Elementary for girls to get seconds, especially on beans of all things, I broke the rules and went for thirds and fourths even. So yesterday afternoon Chris and I made the trek to eat at Ricky's Barbeque- a corner restaurant with no central air, or diet pop, and a smoker bigger than their entire kitchen, I bet. Oh, and they served their sandwhiches on white Wonder Bread, no joke. But it was quite tastey, and the beans, the delicious beans were some of the best baked beans I have come across. So if I throw myself a birthday party here in KC in about a month I am for sure having Ricky cater it. Because as soon as Chris and I were able to understand his ebonics and could stop simply smiling at him and nodding our heads, he was a really friendly guy.

The Simple Things

Saturday, April 10, 2010

I have spent the greater part of my morning googling various subjects such as "best jobs to get out of college," "how to become an E! correspondent," "how did Chelsea Handler get started," "how did Lauren Conrad write a book people actually read," "how to get paid to write a blog that makes fun of people," and other similar questions. I have not received a single decent answer. Regarding the "best jobs out of college" question, almost every result suggested becoming an Actuary. First of all I'm not even quite sure what actuaries do, I know it involves a lot of calculus and numbers, so if I were smart enough to do that I would not be googling "what to do after college," obviously! Chelsea Handler apparantly got started as waitress at a comedy club, one night she got too drunk and found herself on stage doing stand up, and the rest is history. She said her main objective was to find a job that allowed her to drink while doing it. LA Candy by Miss Lauren Conrad is apparantly just one of many that this wonderful littler writer has published. It makes me sick. No answers were given as to why people purchase her page turning novels. And finally, my last question "how to write a blog and get paid," well the first result had something to do with John Gosselin's blog so I opted to click on the next link to take a Career Finder quiz. I answered about fifty pointless questions regarding what interests me only to find out the last question was "Would you like to turn your old gold jewelry into CASH CASH CASH???" Wonderful.
Two hours later and I am no better off than when I started. It just doesn't suit well with me that nasty people like John & Kate or those icky Pretty Wild girls are making money doing absolutely nothing while other deserving people (me!) have to scrape the bottom of the bucket to get by. So that might be a slight stretch, I'm not exactly "struggling to get by per say," but I can't just go out and buy a new summer Burberry bag like I would prefer. It's shit. It's shit because a creepo like Johnny Gosselin is able to buy all the dazzly Affliction and Ed Hardy printed across the butt jeans his fat little heart desires. I know it seems I have a lot of anger toward J&K given the fact I have mentioned both on more than one occassion, but I just hate that their rich and famous for doing NOTHING. Their famous for not being able to have kids so they had to do some voo doo fertility magic that landed them with half a bakers dozen of babies.
But see I don't even want fame, well, I mean I could have a little, like as much as Hoda Kobi has, that would be the desired amount. But anyway, all I am asking for is a job that makes me a lot of money, in which I am my own boss, and so I obviously pick my own hours, but don't have an office, can work when I want, this job that I do will for some reason land me on The Today Show a few times, a guest on Ellen a few times, and it's doing something I really truly enjoy doing. Oh, and at the end my story will become a movie. See, like I said, I just want the simple things.


Thursday, April 8, 2010

I'm not having with drawls from college. I'm truly not. It was just stupid Tyeler's FB status about missing college that prompted me to think about the good ol days is all. So then that made me get out my Theta Senior Will book, but this was only by chance, I was actually looking for a work manual I needed to look over and the Theta book happened to fall on the floor... Okay, clearly that's a lie, I just couldn't decide which sounded less pathetic- I'm still not sure. So anyway next thing I know I am reading through the whole stupid book laughing out look at certain college memories that are mentioned. I've mentioned before how I especially love memories because they always are way better than the actual event. I like it how I reflect back on only the crazy and hilarious nights of college and have chosen to block out the crazy and hilarious nights that ended up in tears and mass amounts of binge eating. Oh hell, who I am kidding, I didn't block out those binges. I couldn't if I wanted to. And for the most part I don't want to. But I'm pretty sure house mom Fritz would like to block out my binges. Poor old Sandra walking into the kitchen early Friday mornings only to find it completely destroyed with Lucky Charms all over the floor, shredded cheese and salsa covering the counters, and most likely some form of beans dripping down the fridge. Yah, old Fritzy didn't care too much for my antics. But what did she expect is what I would like to know. If you make comments towards girls all day like "you're going to eat that much" or "I would never eat that, it's so fattening," well say stuff like that but don't be surprised when girls have to sneak into the kitch at night to eat. It is what it is. I owe many great nights to Wergin and the fact she kept the kitchen key in a spot where all could find. I would like to break in just one more time, for old times sake, but I have a feeling Sandy wouldn't quite see the nostalgia of the situation and might actually call the police on me for breaking and entering.


Wednesday, April 7, 2010

There just isn't anything else like the fresh scent of a sweaty teenager on a hot spring day. I find myself in Topeka, KS, yet again. Topeka is right up there with Counciltucky on my "Things I would rather kill myself than do" list. So it's unusually hot for April yesterday, about mid 80's. And the high school I was speaking in did not want to turn on their air yet, because who knows if it might be snowing next week. Add a few ovens going (remember I speak in culinary rooms) and about 25 teens, half of which are overweight, and you can imagine the scent. I would compare the scent to one of the stores that typically goes by the name of something like, "La Mexicana," "El Mezcal," "La Tienda," you get the picture. And if you have ever walked into one of these stores you know the scent I am describing, as well. So I gave about four presentations talking like Whitney Port because I chose not to breath through my nose. I ended almost every word with "ink." And these kids were naughty. As soon as they heard I was not making them fried chicken and serving kool-aid on the side they were pissed. I'm not kidding either, I'm not trying to stereotype by using these two examples, this was out of their mouths, not mine. And side note- kool aid with about 3 extra cups of sugar plus maple syrup is commonly referred to as "Ghetto Juice." In case you ever find yourself in a situation where someone offers you this drink, now you will know. I asked if it tasted like Jungle Juice, but this question only brought on more blank stares, which is probably a good thing now that I think back. Only five more weeks I keep telling myself. I can do this. I think the thing that just irritates me the most is the fact that I feel like my time is more worthy than getting disrespected by highschoolers all day. It's like I am devaluing myself by having this job or something. I mean I used to not get out of bed for less than 10,000 dollars. Or maybe that was Naomi Campbell, I don't know, it doesn't really matter. The fact is that I always envisioned that was what it would take for me to get up in the morning. Now I get up for free, well I guess technically this isn't completely true- today I did receive a nice little keychain from the teacher that said Topeka Public Schools.

Easter Sunday

Monday, April 5, 2010

What a delightful little holiday Easter is. Pretty eggs, and pastel colors, and little kids all dressed up, it's just such a sweet spring holiday. My family packed up and headed to the Black Hills to celebrate. We just didn't like the idea of having a weekend full of 70 degree weather so instead we went to South Dakota where a surprise spring blizzard was underway. I mean I sure wasn't ready to be done with winter, so I needed one more fix and this past weekend did just the trick. And that tricky little Devil was up to no good trying to get the Wolfes and LaFleurs to miss church on Sunday. First the man at the hotel desk gave us the wrong start time, then the outside of the church had the wrong posted time and finally we arrived about 45 minutes into service, which in a Catholic service is about 75% of the way through. Well thanks to Bill and his emergency Catholic hotline we were able to find a church 30 miles away with a time we could make. I mean missing Easter Sunday mass would have landed us all at least a month in purgatory, if not more, it's right up there with Christmas mass and Ash Wednesday. And given the fact that I had recently increased my stay in ol purg because of the fact I accidentally missed Palm Sunday this year I knew I had to go. Spending even an hour in purgatory with all of the pervert priests in the world is an hour too many if you ask me. I just hope children aren't allowed in purg because suddenly it becomes more of heaven to all of the pedo priests rather than a punishment. Now catholics don't get your panties in a bunch if you're reading this, I am only halfway kidding. I say halfway because we all know it's true. I mean everybody knows that when a catholic church is struggling to get a good priest to come to their parish they simply start choosing better looking altar boys. It's common sense.

Welcome to Ontario where the players play...

Thursday, April 1, 2010

I always feel like there is a surplus of great songs when the weather starts to get nice out. Chris makes fun of me for it, but I don't care what he says, I really like that song called "Bedrock" right now. It makes me want to go out, and have drinks, and just celebrate the thug that I am. I'm still unsure what to make of Justin Bieber's, "Baby." I think I like it, and I think he is just cute as a button- but does anyone else find it a bit odd that Ludacris is like his singing partner in the song? I mean on one side we have this really ghetto black guy famous for songs like "Move Bitch" and "Pimpin All Over the World," and he is collaborating with this little baby face white boy who could easily pass for a butch little girl, in which people would still say "oh what a cute little dyke." Something just doesn't seem right to me. What do they do when their done recording I wonder? Do they just kick it over Jones Soda and fatties? I sure hope not. Luda better not rub his bad behavior off on little Justine because I will be pissed. Next thing you know Biebs is gona be singing about his hos in different area codes, he'll be doing a remix to Luda's "Welcome to Atlanta," although I just don't think "Welcome to Ontario," will be nearly as catchy. This duo just really opens the door for pairings of all sorts. I sure wouldn't mind seeing Tess Pretty Wild team up with Josiah or Jebidiah Duggar. I shouldn't even kid about that though, the simple thought makes me want puke. I just really dis like those Pretty Wild girls. I think their goal is just to see how many times they can change clothes in front of the cameras and show off their blurred boobies. And stop saying "and so it is" because you want it to become a new, hot phrase. It really saddens me that Chelsea Handler is a producer behind this show. These girls seem to represent everything that she is against, at least that is what I thought. I am starting to question my feelings toward Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang lately. Then again, I might still be just a little bitter regarding the fact that the number from which "her people" called me from never seems to get answered when I call- I mean if I were ever to call it....