Friday, March 30, 2012

Hola monos, me parece que he perdido mi pantalón.

 So I went to Mexico a few weeks ago with the Mr, my girl Waffle & Mr. Waffle (both heirs to the Mrs. Butterworth's syrup empire).  I had no expectations for this trip, other than escaping MN and possibly playing "hide the tamale" with a Ricardo Montalban lookalike on a sunny beach while drinking (hopefully) non-roofied margaritas. 

Other than the weather being kind of a dick for the first day and a half (super windy, gray, but still fairly warm) (Our condo is the one next to the palm tree furthest to the left),:

the trip was, overall, awesome.  The first night, the restaurant we had dinner at was on a lagoon, and this guy was hanging out right under where we were sitting.  He was about 5-6 feet long and was begging for treats like a scaly, man-eating puppy:
 These guys were perched near our condo for most of the time we were there.  If I have to pick a non-human mascot for this trip, I'll just go ahead and pick "scaly, bitey thingies":

The obligatory "toes-on-the-beach" photo.  Mine were already chipped and my feet were pretty mangled, and this was day one.  Why I even try to class up the dive joint that is the wonder of Me is anyone's guess at this point.  It's like trying to put lipstick and false eyelashes on a wet cat:

Then the weather stopped being an asshole and decided to play nice.  This would be day 1 of the "What kind of messed up sunburn will Whiskey get this time?" game.  Here's a hint: my legs looked like I was wearing pink thigh-high stockings, and I had a mystery half-moon burn under one boob:

Hey!  You didn't tell me that your sexy Italian grandpa was going to be here too!:

Sorry, no pics of yours truly as every single one had other people in it and I don't have time to doctor pictures right now.  Just Imagine Sofia Vergara in a bikini with my face and you'll have it about right. On a related note- there were a bunch of clearly over-30-something gals that were still rocking the pierced belly button thingy.  Now, I may offend a few of you with this, but I have to be honest- it looks ri-diculous.  I don't care if you're totally in shape, curvy, stick thin or built like a large apple- you need to cut it out.  There are some things best left to the early 20-somethings, and along with Hello Kitty and the "69" position, this is one of them. Stop it already. 

I love, love, love vacations, but I'm usually ready to go home to this little dude when they're nearing an end: 
Also, other highlights from the trip in no particular order:  Sand in my buttcrack, drunken life-coaching a 7 year-old Mexican girl, obsessing over the many exciting varieties of Mexican snack chips, eating my weight in guacamole, many fruity cocktails, a city bus with a strobe light and Latin techno music playing, salt water turning my hair into a rastafarian nightmare, and me and Waffle successfully crashing a very swanky wedding at the adjoining Omni hotel. 


Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Pepperoni and a pop-n-lock, two bits...

A few random bits of amusement from my last few days:
  • The doorbell rang about 9:30 last night, the Mr. went to see who it was.  After a few minutes, he came into the kitchen, where I was finishing making dinner, with a goofy look on his face.  "Who was it?" I asked.  He goes, "Pizza Luce- I guess they're just used to coming to our house."  The REALLY shameful part of this, aside from the delivery driver's car being set on autopilot for our address, is...I was making pizza for dinner.  
  • My girl Blondie's text exchange after a particularly debaucherous, fun & blurry evening out celebrating two of the girl posse's B-days.  Her: "I forgot until this morning that I was trying to breakdance Saturday night."  Me: "Ha! I forgot that too."  Her: "I was wondering why my back was all bruised up."  The sad part is, I think I tried to do the worm at one point as well.  I'm sure this is not at all idiotic behavior for 40 year-old women. 
  • I blew my nose the other day and there was not one, but several cat hairs in the kleenex (yes, I looked, duh.)  
No wonder it tickled.

Friday, March 9, 2012

That's Ms. Chef Kickass to you, thank you very much

I am too stupid to figure out Facebook, it seems. I just now came across this message from a former student that he left in November.  He was part of the group that had two classmates die in a three week period, as well as one of the female students having had her brother die two weeks prior to that mess.  I have always worried that so much...shitty stuff in such a short time frame would have tainted their learning experience, but finding this note today answered that question, I guess:

 Happy Day to You.

I wanted to take this opportunity to say I'm grateful for being your student.

I think this comes directly from your teaching style: both personal & direct. I think you communicate very clearly about what you need & expect, but combine that with personal relationship. Yes, losing Brian, John & Joe all at once created the need for a more personal relationship. Still, a lot of instructors create a specific distance between themselves & their students. You have your boundaries, of course, but you don't close yourself to your students. I think that resonates with people because they can see that you are putting yourself out there, stretching outside of a safe zone, and therefore students are willing to stretch outside of a safe zone to perform for you.

I often think of critiques you offered, something about multi-masking or tasking or something? Anyways, I never quite got it

I also stepped into a mess with you at one point. By questioning your authority, I got wacked back and gained a clear example of how you command your kitchen by intuition & traditional structure.

Why I bring all this up is that I am finding that I thrive in a work environment that you have created in your kitchen. I had a great time working under your direction.

I was inspired to write this because of articles on the radio about a Smithsonian Story Project focusing on teachers and their students appreciation.

You matter to me and a lot of other cooks who have walked through your kitchen. Know that you're doing it right.

And that, right there folks, is why I love my job.