So many choices

 One of the perks of working out at a gym in the City is the eye candy that is on parade.  Unfortunately, the eye candy at my gym location is non-existent.  Once in a blue moon, you get a hottie working out.  But that's about it.  It's slightly disheartening.

Don't get me wrong.  I still get a workout in at least 5 days a week.  But truthfully, it would be more of an incentive if I had something nice to look at in between sets.  And, as they say, you can't improve on what you do if you have no inspiration.  I think that's what they say.

I worked out at a different location yesterday and was pleasantly surprised by the "inspiration".  Of course, this location was in the middle of the gay ghetto.  Just sayin'.  And, of course, the clothes were tighter, the bodies were harder, and the boys were not ashamed to show it off.  It was fun.  It was entertaining.  And it certainly provided incentive.

Maybe that's what I need to do:  start going to other locations.  Mine is just downright depressing.  Truth is, one of my membership perks is being able to go to any location in the City.  I should take advantage of that.  Later.

Labels: inspiration, working out

  ¶ 11:19 AM 0 comments

 

Letting it go

...sign and done!  Thank goodness.

I just Fed Ex'ed my tax information to my tax accountant.  It's now in Fed Ex's hands (or trucks) then my tax accountant's.  I had to fill out a worksheet sent to me by him and attach all necessary documents.  I had four extra documents that I didn't know where to report.  But that's why I use a tax accountant.  Plus, I have so much more paperwork than ever.  All due to the fact that for the past two years, I have been putting money into various retirement accounts.  Mama is making sure she's got a nest egg.

I actually loved doing my taxes.  I am such a math geek that I find joy in making all the numbers happen.  All I ever cared was that I got something back.  As long as the Federal and State netted out to a return, I was happy.

The other thing I love is going to the dentist.  Which I did this morning.  I love the sound of the drill.  I love the feeling of having super clean teeth.  I especially love finding out that the issue I have been having is nothing that requires any type of surgery.  Just a result of some prior work that is not at all bad.  I just have to live with the fact that as I am getting older, some of my teeth are getting sensitive to temperature.  At least no cavities.

Lots of my friends think I am weird for various reasons but the fact that I enjoy doing taxes and going to the dentist might be the top two reason.  I'm just different that way.  I have thought about why I am one of the few people in this world that finds joy in things that most people abhor.  Not that I find joy in seeing people in pain.  Maybe I've just been able to look at things like taxes and the dentist in a rationale way.  And not let it have power over me.  Thank goodness!  Later.

Labels: Dentist, Taxes

  ¶ 3:34 PM 0 comments

 

Makes me wonder

Every day that I leave the apartment, I get to witness how our society has just stopped trying.  Get on the bus and you'll see someone who acts like they have never gotten on public transportation.  Yes, you have to pay a fare and those gigantic machines on the sidewalk that everyone else used is where you pay it.  You really should have asked the people standing around.  Not just feigned knowledge of what the fuck you are doing.

Go to work and you'll meet people who would rather watch you make a mistake than help you.  I used to think that it was because people were being malicious.  Now I think it's because they just really don't know and have not taken the time to try to know. 

I worked a gig last night where I asked the guy next to me if he had done the task I was doing.  I told him it was my first time working with this company.  He told me I was fine the way I was doing it.  After getting half way through the task, the lead chef told me I was doing it wrong and had to fix it.  Luckily I could.  Seriously?  Why didn't the guy next to me, who supposedly had done all of this, correct me?  I just felt he was not trying.  And it was obvious throughout the night when I would work on 4 different appetizers while he worked on one.  ONE!

I'm not sure what not trying does.  People don't try to find out anything anymore.  People don't try to fix problems anymore.  People don't try to help others anymore.  Is it fear of failure?  Is it fear of being considered ignorant?  Is it fear of being rebuked? 

I'm trying to understand this all.  But maybe that's the problem.  I'm trying.  Later.

Labels: Effort, Irritation

  ¶ 6:35 PM 0 comments

 

Gimme, gimme, more

Sometimes it's all in the perspective.  Or the timing.  With just a little bit of luck thrown in.  Plus it doesn't hurt to know people.

I just got called to do a gig for a huge catering company tonight.  Very last minute but I will take it.  Plus they pay quite well.  This all happened because I happened to be by my phone yesterday when a fellow cook texted me to see if I was available tonight.  I was.  So, she set it in motion.  I emailed the booker and... boom... bang... pow... I am working tonight!!!  And not that far from my home!!!

Of course, this inspired me to send out two more emails to get me some work.  Here's hoping my other chef, who I like, is kind enough to bring me in for a few hours on Friday to prep for the large Saturday party.  He's a new head chef, so budgets sit in his mind foremost.  I get it.  But I also need money.

Coming back into the freelance world has been a slow transition for me.  I have been a salaried person so long that I forgot that part of freelancing is emailing/calling/hustling for work.  I need to remember that what may seem like harassment to me is par for the course for company bookers.  This should especially be obvious because I was once a booker.  But for some reason, I have been slow to re-grasp this concept.

I think I am closer to getting it.  Later.

Labels: Pounding the Pavement, Work

  ¶ 10:22 AM 0 comments

 

The things I do for work

"You can make shitty pay at a shitty place.  Or you can make shitty pay at a nice place." 

It's been a tough month with my chosen field of work.  It's turning around a bit but still tough.  Mostly because of the shitty pay part.  Truth is, it really isn't that shitty but when you work one or two days a week, it can feel like it.  I am thankful that the places I do work are very nice and easy-going.

Early on in my life, I decided that I needed to do something that I enjoyed doing.  Or else it was all just useless.  I definitely have found what I want to do for the rest of my life.  It's not easy work but it's certainly much more satisfying.  I also decided that life is way too important to deal with nasty work people.  I also realized that in a city as big as New York, there is always work to be had.  Especially if you aren't picky.

I think a lot of people stay in places too long.  Especially shitty places.  I never understand it.  Especially when the pay is not really that good.  Maybe I don't know their entire story.  They could be struggling emotionally.  They could have no legal papers.  They could have no other recourse.  I don't know.

What I do know is that everyone deserves to work somewhere they feel appreciated.  Some way or another.  We all have the things we value most.  Some are more material than others.  And that's fine.  I just think that we need to start believing that we, at least, deserve to work in a nice place.  And we need to stop supporting the people who run the shitty places and start supporting the nice places.

Maybe I'm wrong in this thought process.  Maybe the shitty places exist for a reason.  I do know that I don't have to work for them.  No matter how shitty I may feel it currently is.  Later.  ¶ 11:08 AM 0 comments

 

Back into the brush

 I'm taking a step today that I am slightly unsure about taking.  I'm interviewing at a place of former employ.  I don't normally like to go back to anywhere I used to work.  But circumstances warrant it. 

Rarely do I feel that places of employ change.  The way you left it is probably the same way you'll find it.  No matter what the new position or management or what promises are made, it's extremely highly likely that it's still the same bullshit.  Except this time it's magnified because you know it's coming. 

So, why am I going to talk to them?  I am hoping that because my perspective has changed and because this new position will not involve me being a senior manager and because it will only be part-time, I can learn to detach my feelings, work, and go home.  Here's to hoping.

Of course, this all depends on whether or not the manager and I can agree on a schedule.  I always find it interesting when managers want you to have an open schedule but cannot guarantee you full-time hours.  Isn't that just screwing the employee over?  I guess it would not be that bad if the company did not claim to be a place that "values" it's people.

Nonetheless, I am going.  At the very least, it will supplement my income.  And without getting into specifics, it does have it's perks.  Later.

Labels: Change, Employment

  ¶ 8:27 AM 0 comments

 

Time to start walking

This probably happens in all other industries but in mine, it's especially irritating because they barely pay full-fledged cooks a lot of money to begin with.  It's disheartening to want to work at a "name" place only to find out they want interns, who they don't have to pay.

I kinda sorta get it.  You want to put product out there while keeping your costs low.  But, as someone who has hired, trained, and worked with interns, you get a better product by hiring someone who is actually skilled and knowledgeable about your product.

I also know that a lot of culinary schools require their students to intern at a place for a specific amount of time.  I am convinced this is a conspiracy between these schools and the companies.  My culinary school didn't require an internship.  I just cooked at the restaurant which was part of the school.  And it was not just a learning process but a teaching process.  If you've ever interned before, you know that most of the time, you are not being taught a single thing.

Anyway, I am off to pound the pavement for part-time work.  I actually would not mind being paid off-the-books but, nowadays, restaurants are so wary of that they actually do hire on the books.  We'll see.  Later.

Labels: Intern, Work

  ¶ 10:26 AM 0 comments

 

Time to wake up

 
So, I've decided that I need to start using this blog again.  I morphed it into a place to just put down my thoughts.  But I never really used it as much as I should.  So, now, I am.

I'm beginning to get a bit concerned about what I am doing. 

I love cooking as a professional.  I like that I feel so comfortable in a kitchen.  I think it's really what I am good at.  I like that even after a full day of cooking, I can still come home and cook a meal from scratch.  I love finding ingredients that make me think.  I like that change is a constant with what I do.

I love that being a freelance cook has really forced me to become so well-rounded as a cook.  I won't say that I cook something new every day.  I definitely don't.  I just like that I am forced to use all my skills to adapt to new surroundings, new products, and new people.  Often.  AND in a medium that I find stimulating.

But back to my concern:  it's the middle of the dead time of freelance cooking.  Very little catering goes on during February and beginning of March.  I expected it.  But I am still concerned about money.  I work one or two days a week which does not generate a lot of cash.  And I am suddenly very aware of it.

I am thankful that my partner is supportive of me.  I am thankful that I have my severance from my last job to help tide me over.  I just don't want to have to rely on that.  I have decided to apply for some part-time work in other kitchens.  Hopefully they pan out.  I just don't want to go back to working in the front of the house of a retail establishment, even if it is with food.  We'll see.

So, here goes.  I'm going to start letting go of my thoughts here.  Be wary.  Later.

Labels: Cooking, Worry

  ¶ 11:54 AM 0 comments

  As one gets older, it gets harder and harder to meet friends. Most people have established their circle of friends. And trying to add to or get into a circle is not always easy. I also think that as you get older, you become less forgiving of crap.

I have tried to become friends with someone at work. I rarely, if never, do. If I do start hanging out with someone from work, it's because we share something in common. Or, something about them has sparked my interest.

L. is someone I have tried to do things with. We started off well. I was a bit wary of the drama that seemed to tag along with him. I should have listened. So, when do I stop trying? I think this weekend was when I stopped trying.

Here's the thing: when I invite you to something, I will follow up the day before to confirm. I expect the same thing from you. If you initiate the get-together, then follow up and make sure that I am on board. If I have to call you, it probably will piss me off. I especially get pissed off and begin the process of divorcing you from my life, WHEN you don't return my text or call. It's even worse when you call and feign ignorance and nonchalance to what is your mistake.

I wish it were different especially since I get along with this guy. But maybe I get along with him because he keeps himself at a distance. Maybe this is all it is. I will start treating him differently when I see him at work. I will bring it up that he is difficult to make plans with. I will bring it up that he doesn't return calls or texts. I will no longer be interested in this friendship.

I will not be adding to my circle. Later.  ¶ 10:16 PM 0 comments

  I attended my friend's mother's funeral service today. This is the second funeral service I have been to in 13 months. Both were in the same funeral home. Both had open caskets. I couldn't get myself to go up to the open casket. I'm not sure I understand the need to have the casket open.

Maybe it's because I don't want to see the deceased in that state. There is a big piece of me that believes that part of the best thing about someone you know is having memories of them. Happy memories. Maybe I don't want to see them lying there lifeless. Maybe I want to remember them the last time I saw them. Alive. Maybe I'm weird.

Many people feel forced to go through the line to view the casket. I never feel like I have to. I actually am fine with people just coming in and taking some time to pay their respects. If all you do is sit there and remember the good times you had with this person, then you are fine. I especially don't get it when people go through the viewing line if they have never interacted with the deceased. I have been one of those people. I decided to let my partner mourn his way and I stood in the back. Maybe I am just weird for standing.

I believe that people mourn in their own way. I prefer to mourn by remembering that person's smiling face. I prefer to remember the good moments. I prefer to just sit in the back and let my friend know that I am there if he needs me. I don't feel that I need to go through the rituals that are set by people. I don't care if they think that I am disrespectful. I need to mourn my way. Maybe I am weird for standing my ground.

Maybe all that matters is that I showed up for my friend and his mom. Maybe definitely. Later.  ¶ 11:49 PM 0 comments

  I have never wanted to get married. I have never been traditional. But I have always believed that I deserved the rights that everyone else has. And tonight, I have been told that I have those rights.

Thanks, New York. Thanks for telling me I matter.

Later.  ¶ 10:39 PM 0 comments

  ...and Rick Welts happens to be gay. There's something very powerful about high-level professionals in sports coming out. Especially ones that have been and are very influential. It's especially amazing when he gets the support of his equally powerful and equally influential "teammates". What still gets me is how much time gets wasted before some people realize that living your honest life is much more important than anything else.

I don't really want to hear how brave someone is for coming out of the closet after years of profiting from being in.. I don't really find it that brave when you decide to put yourself on hold. I don't find it brave at all when anyone puts themselves on the back burner of life to meet the needs of others. I don't really find it brave when you force the people who care for you to support your facade in order to make millions. I don't find it brave just because after years of living in misery, you finally decided that this is the time.

I think bravery comes from living a life that may cause you to lose millions, may cause you to lose friendships, may cause you to lose what you consider valuable but yet come out with your dignity intact, your mind clear, and your integrity solid. Later.  ¶ 9:29 PM 0 comments

  I've finally been told when my last day is "around". Again, nothing specific. But at least I know that my current position will be in existence until mid-September. I am quite relieved that I have an idea as to when I will paid until. That feels great.

I am not even worried about finding a job until then. I'll find something. Definitely not at my current company. My current boss approached me today to ask how she could keep me in the store. I told her that, right now, nothing appeals to me. In truth, every time I get the inkling that I may try to find something within, something happens that reminds me why I should be focusing my energy elsewhere. This past Friday, I was reminded why I could never work for the person who is now in charge of what I do. And the person in charge of him, either. What a couple of tools.

So, what next? Not sure yet. I am applying for HR type jobs that have teaching/education leanings. I also have this idea that I will go back to the kitchen. Who knows. Even I don't. But there is one thing I know: I don't want to work for my current company.

If you're thinking why, here's why: my current boss is being contacted because of their "concern" that I am not "enthusiastic" about the change in structure. Let's see: you just told me that my position won't exist and there is a chance I won't have a job come September. You want me to cheer? Oh wait... I also wrote a letter of concern about how I have not been told what my final date is almost a month AFTER I was told my position does not exist. And now, because I requested some sort of communication, I am branded as "trouble"?

You're right. I don't have to work for you. Later.  ¶ 9:11 PM 1 comments

  I'm feeling emotionally crazy. But I always feel emotionally crazy when something is about to change in my life. It's almost like an injury that gets stirred up by a change in the weather. But rather than physical, it's emotional. And emotionally, I am stirred by music. And in this instance, I am very emotionally stirred by the music of Glee.

It sound weird to repeat that to myself. I love Glee because it is such an escape from the real world. It allows me a chance to not be part of my life. But for some reason, the music seems to make me even more a part of what is going on in my life. I am still not sure how I feel about that. But I am definitely feeling. And strongly feeling.

I leave for a vacation in a week. For a week. I will use this moment to just think about nothing. Or maybe, everything. It's weird being in this situation. I'm not exactly out of control. On the contrary, I am in total control of what happens to me job-wise. Career-wise, not really. But I do have the power to give it a nudge. It's weird. I could just stay. But I don't want to. Mainly because I have never been the type to just stay and allow myself to be "beat".

So, here I am listening to the same songs again and again. Specifically, songs from my favorite show: Glee. What that does that make me? A loser. I don't know. I guess I don't have it that bad. Nope, I don't have it bad at all. Maybe it isn't bad. Maybe it isn't bad to be a loser. A loser like me. Later.  ¶ 11:37 PM 0 comments

  After the announcement that my department was being restructured and my position eliminated, I have been less than motivated to do anything at work. Unfortunately, the universe is not heeding my apathy. And I have been teaching more than I care to.

There is something that is happening at work that makes me want to show up. It makes me want to show up and laugh. And I have. I really should not laugh at the incompetency of the people who supposedly want to improve the structure by eliminating the only reason the structure held together. But hey, I don't run the place, so what the hell do I know?

Here's what I know. I know that if you plan on changing someone's life by taking away what they worked hard to create, then you should have a plan for their exit. And you shouldn't tell them that you are still working on it. Hahaha. The other thing that you should consider is that perhaps nobody is going to want to take on the supposedly new exciting opportunities available. Because no matter how much you try to roll a turd in sugar, it's still a turd.

I have been so resigned and detached at work. But this has brought me new joy. Seeing them send out an email extending the application deadline because "they don't want anyone to miss out on an exciting opportunity" makes me laugh out loud. Makes me want to see what kind of messes they get to apply. Makes me giggle in wicked joy.

Suddenly, being at work is not so bad. Later.  ¶ 11:01 PM 0 comments

  Sometimes, I look at my hands and realize that I am old. Not older. Old.

I think that no matter what you do to make the rest of you look young, your hands will always show your age. Or at the very least, your hands will show how much you've been through. And nothing you do, except wear gloves, can hide that fact.

My hands are very vascular. That's a fancy word for saying that my hands are very veiny. There is very little to no fat in my hands. Probably because I work very hard. Probably because I am most comfortable working in conditions where my hands are in motion.

But it's not just the veins. It's the fact that my hands are the only part of my body that are wrinkled. My fingers remind me of the rings of a tree. Even when I moisturize them, they are very wrinkled. Even the palms of my hands have wrinkles. The sink is tight but definitely wrinkled.

On top of that, my hands also have various nicks and callouses. The callouses are from years of tennis and handling pots. The nicks are from years of manual labor. Plus, I have never been known to take care of my cuticles. I'm just not that type of gay.

I think what really makes me feel old is not the fact that my hands look old. I accept that. I think it's because when I look at them, they remind me of my mother at my age. Later.  ¶ 10:51 PM 1 comments

  Is there anything better than going to the register to pay for a pair of jeans that make you look really good and having to pay only half of what the tagged price states? I don't think there is. Later.  ¶ 12:29 AM 0 comments

  It's not a big secret that I have been wanting out of my job for a while now. I've been bitching and moaning about it. I've even started looking for some new employment. But I haven't really looked that hard. Or as hard as I could probably look. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I also believe that if you put it out there, the universe gives it back.

Yesterday, I got it back.

I was told by a confidant that my position will no longer exist as of September. I will be officially told in my regional meeting with my 15 other counterparts on Wednesday.

I'm not sad. I'm not even mad. I'm in this weird mood where I knew it was going to eventually happen. Which is probably why I am so indifferent to it. My first reaction was that I needed to be more proactive in my applications. Do things like call the companies to follow up on the application. Look into working not just for companies I would like to but for jobs that I have the qualifications for. And I will.

My husband had his initial freak-out moment. But he has calmed down and realized that I still have a job until September. That is if my source is correct. They could tell me something different on Wednesday. Nothing would surprise me. I kinda feel bad for some of the folks that have the same position as I do. I know I can rebound. But some of these folks were planning on retiring from this position. Not sure how they may take this. It may be a total surprise. Or they may already know.

I asked my source as to how reliable this info was. She said it was a done deal. She said that she was scared that I had called this fact at the end of last summer. I actually called it to the date. Scary indeed.

So, here is what I am thinking: as soon as they announce it, I will stand up, put my coat on, begin to walk out, stop at the door, blow my liar-of-a-coordinator a kiss, and leave. I think that may be the way I want to be remembered in this lousy company. What are they going to do? Relieve me of my job? Later.  ¶ 10:38 PM 1 comments

  Dear fellow gym-goer,

Actually, this letter isn't really for all of you. Just the guys who feel so comfortable using the locker room to change and shower after a workout. Okay? The rest of you can go back to your usual routine. Thanks for reading though.

So, back to those of you still here. I am very glad that you have found the confidence to use the shower facilities. I am glad that you are getting your money's worth from the gym. But I do have some requests. I'd really appreciate it if you would just fulfill them. So here goes:

1. It's a tight space. Especially in the big city gyms. So, try not to take up so much room while you are changing into your workout gear. It's common courtesy to move over a little if other folks are next to you. BTW, we paid our dues too.
2. When you think about it, you're in a changing room. Change and hit the gym. It's what you came here for. Not to text endlessly. Or blather to the person on the other side of the phone about how you just got to the gym, and you plan on being there for a bit, because this is a heavy day, blah blah blah...
3. Listen. I love a good workout just like the next guy. And I like taking a hot shower after. But just one thing: when you take your sweaty clothes and sneakers off, put them in a neat pile away from us. Like under the bench. Or in your locker. This isn't your home, so don't just leave them everywhere. They get in the way of the rest of us. And I really don't feel like moving your sweaty jockstrap over. With any part of my body.
4. Ahhhhhh. Nothing like a good relaxing hot shower after a workout. Take your time. Don't rush. You earned it. Cool down. Have a seat on the bench after. But put a towel down. I really don't want to hear your bare ass hitting that bench. Or see your dried butt imprint. I would also appreciate it if you could wipe down that bench. Some of us would like to sit down eventually.
   
5. Finally, and this is a very tiny thing: put your used towels in the dirty towel bin. Again. I'm not opposed to sharing some man-sweat. Depends on the circumstance. But I really don't want to touch your wet used towel.
   
6. Oh sorry, just one more thing. Close your locker when you are done. I hate hitting my head on an open locker door. Don't you?

Okay. Sounds like a lot. But really, it isn't. And trust me. All your fellow gymrats would be very appreciative of your efforts. Thanks.

tim.... Later.  ¶ 7:36 PM 1 comments

  I hate tradition. I really do. I don't get it. Why do you bother doing something just because a date dictates so? Sounds very "confining".

For example, Thanksgiving. Why do people go home since, for the most part, people find their families not the best to hang around during these times. We had 3 people over for dinner. We kept laughing the entire time. I had a wonderful night.

I didn't even feel cheated that I worked a full day the next day.

So, why bother? Why bother with the insanity of the holidays? Why bother staying with a bunch of people an entire weekend, when you can barely stand an entire day with them? Later.  ¶ 10:14 PM 0 comments