As this is my first blog post here (i wrote this one first, and then published it second), or anywhere rather, i feel as if i should give some sort of introduction. I've been meaning to start one of these for a while now, and now that i am unemployed, and in some sort of funk i figured why not now?
so here it goes, I'm your typical black kid from a middle class white family. I was adopted at a very young age from Haiti and have lived in the united states for 19 years. I've lived in a small town for my entire life, with one exception, when i attended an acting conservatory for a year in New York City. Throughout my whole life I've struggled with my weight, finding acceptance, depression, and a fear of never finding love.
I don't really know why i felt so desperate to join the world of narcissists and start writing about myself publicly. i do find journaling therapeutic, and i think my friends are growing tired of hearing me bitch.
in the last year i decided it was time to change. it all revolved around my 21st birthday. In the winter of eighth grade i cut off all of my hair and went "natural", at first i hated it but i grew to love it and embrace the style that i went on to keep for 8 years. right before my birthday I decided that i needed a change, i wanted to look great in my new license picture so in a rather rash decision I went from my short natural curly hair, to relaxed. (during the year i dabbled with long braids, and while i liked the style, and having hair longer than my chin bone the $200 and the 10-12 hours it took to put in and the indescribable pain it was really not a style that i could keep for years.)
After the hair fiasco I got my first tattoo; a cute symbol four music notes minus the stems (so yes, dots) ascending upwards with a fermata centered over them. ... almost instantly i regretted it. it not that it was an awful tattoo or that I'll ever hate music or my friends it was just that i finally committed to something and that scared me. The four notes on my hip were carefully picked, the first letter of my friends initials, including mine are A, B, C, and D. these three people are the best friends I've ever had the honor of having. I was recently Maid of Honor in A's wedding, D and I just finished designing his first album cover (it's phenomenal - the cover, and the music of course.) and B has been one of my best friends and confidant since we first became friends 8 years ago in the eighth grade.
the most recent change was that i lost my job shortly after the wedding. I went into work, clocked in as usual had a brief two minute conversation with my manager, clocked out, and left the building. i kept my composure, stayed very stoic not letting anyone know that this could have bothered me. I got in my car, called D and told him what happened. he was busy that night, my parents were at work, A was still at the job i had just been fired from, and B was with her girlfriend. I don't have a boyfriend so i drove home and sat in my car and cried uncontrollably for 4 hours (no i did not spend 4 hours crying in front of my house). the last 3 years of my life were spent at that job and being let go was a blow i never even saw coming. 3 weeks later and I'm still upset about not having a job, but I'm not crying which is always a good sign.
This year will probably be about finding a new job, and equally as important finding me. (douche baggy... I know). douche bag aside, this year, I'm doing me.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Christina, the Domestic Dud
Now that I've finally taken the initiative and started a blog i had no clue what to write about. there i was, so much to say and when i finally give myself the opportunity to do it i draw quite possibly the largest blank ever. so here it goes, my first er. second blog entry.
I'm one of those people who hasn't really found out what they are good at. I mean it. I'm 21 years old, I hate school- I'm pretty decent at it however, I'm not highly skilled in any one profession. for the last year and a half I worked in a restaurant; i spent a majority of my time there seating guests and waiting tables - I thought i was good at that, but my employer, and a few of the people I waited on begged to differ. after three years in the same place i was fired. (pity party over.) back to what i was saying before, I'm not exceptionally or even decently good at anything. The most obvious thing is I cannot cook. I'm one of those people who cannot make toast, no matter how i try, either it's not toasted and thus slightly lukewarm bread, or it's burnt to a crisp and a starving child in Africa would turn it down. I'm not exaggerating, I'm my 21 years on this earth, I'm still unable to master the skill of toasting bread.
With knowing about my own culinary pitfalls, you would think someone like me would live off of carryout, and dining in at local establishments where it was less likely that i would die from consuming my own concoctions. as it turns out, these establishments want some sort of recompense for their services, and back to that no job thing, i have no way of settling up my bill these days.
The other day i decided to attempt to make my own chicken salad, an easy task for most human beings, but I am typically not like most human beings. I have a aversion to both raw chicken and mayonnaise, both items make me gag uncontrollably. When i cut open the package of the raw chicken it was all i could do to not vomit from the look of the slimy pale breasts. I poured the extra virgin olive oil in the pan and looked up "how to cook chicken" on yahoo while i waited for it to heat up. i discovered, while interneting, that using a fork in a chicken breast was not a good idea... and using my hands, was an option that was completely off the table. I had no way to move the chicken from the container to the pan. I found a giant set of metal tongs, probably for the use of grilling and that was my solution. after cooking my chicken which was a feat in itself, came the hardest part... dealing with mayonnaise.
when i was a child i used mayo on everything! and i mean everything. french fries, burgers, sandwiches... okay i guess just those three things... and i don't really know when my hatred of the substance started.
so i put the chicken in the mini blender thing, (which I'm sure has a name, but i know nothing about kitchen things so i will continue to call it the mini blender thing) and i chop the hell out of this, this part i understand, except i chop my chicken to finely and eventually adding mayo (yuck) will make it into a paste and not desirable dish. so here comes the hard part, i put my chicken in the bowl and i open the dreaded jar, this is when the gagging started. i stuck a spoon in the horrid thing and the noise nearly knocked me on my ass. eventually with a lot of cringing, and nearly crying i made my chicken salad.
Tonight after watching the movie "Mystery Men" i got a pretty insane craving for egg salad. the only problem is that i watched the movie around 1am, and in my area, most places are closed, and any egg salad that was pre-made had been put together HOURS before hand and were most certainly not for human consumption. so i decided i was going to make my own egg salad. I went to the store and bought a dozen eggs. on the way home it dawns on me... I don' know how to make egg salad, I know it involves eggs, and (yuck) mayonnaise, and some sort of red spice but other than that I was clueless... so I'm once again searching yahoo for a recipe on how to make egg salad.
step 1: chop boiled eggs... within 4 seconds of reading this it hits me that I don't know how to boil an egg, so back to trusty yahoo, and i have to type in the humiliating sentence "how to boil an egg?" evidently in the 21 years I've been on this planet I've never had to boil an egg. now i know what you're thinking, she must be some sort of princess, or an idiot - really I'm neither. when i was young i was pretty spoiled, but as I've grown up less and less things have been handed over to me and I've had to start doing more things for myself. I'm just no good with domestic activity. but back to the eggs.
i got a pot of water rapidly boiling, and i drop in an egg... the first egg i throw into the pot cracks, and now i have this egg leaking and coagulating into my pot of water. the next few eggs i use the same trusty grilling tongs and gently place the eggs into the water. this method seems to work... i let the eggs boil and boil and boil. 15 minutes, and a thousand checks later i have six hard boiled eggs. I do the same awful mayo gig, cringing and mixing, and almost crying and 30 minutes later i have my egg salad.
now, to figure out this toast business.
I'm one of those people who hasn't really found out what they are good at. I mean it. I'm 21 years old, I hate school- I'm pretty decent at it however, I'm not highly skilled in any one profession. for the last year and a half I worked in a restaurant; i spent a majority of my time there seating guests and waiting tables - I thought i was good at that, but my employer, and a few of the people I waited on begged to differ. after three years in the same place i was fired. (pity party over.) back to what i was saying before, I'm not exceptionally or even decently good at anything. The most obvious thing is I cannot cook. I'm one of those people who cannot make toast, no matter how i try, either it's not toasted and thus slightly lukewarm bread, or it's burnt to a crisp and a starving child in Africa would turn it down. I'm not exaggerating, I'm my 21 years on this earth, I'm still unable to master the skill of toasting bread.
With knowing about my own culinary pitfalls, you would think someone like me would live off of carryout, and dining in at local establishments where it was less likely that i would die from consuming my own concoctions. as it turns out, these establishments want some sort of recompense for their services, and back to that no job thing, i have no way of settling up my bill these days.
The other day i decided to attempt to make my own chicken salad, an easy task for most human beings, but I am typically not like most human beings. I have a aversion to both raw chicken and mayonnaise, both items make me gag uncontrollably. When i cut open the package of the raw chicken it was all i could do to not vomit from the look of the slimy pale breasts. I poured the extra virgin olive oil in the pan and looked up "how to cook chicken" on yahoo while i waited for it to heat up. i discovered, while interneting, that using a fork in a chicken breast was not a good idea... and using my hands, was an option that was completely off the table. I had no way to move the chicken from the container to the pan. I found a giant set of metal tongs, probably for the use of grilling and that was my solution. after cooking my chicken which was a feat in itself, came the hardest part... dealing with mayonnaise.
when i was a child i used mayo on everything! and i mean everything. french fries, burgers, sandwiches... okay i guess just those three things... and i don't really know when my hatred of the substance started.
so i put the chicken in the mini blender thing, (which I'm sure has a name, but i know nothing about kitchen things so i will continue to call it the mini blender thing) and i chop the hell out of this, this part i understand, except i chop my chicken to finely and eventually adding mayo (yuck) will make it into a paste and not desirable dish. so here comes the hard part, i put my chicken in the bowl and i open the dreaded jar, this is when the gagging started. i stuck a spoon in the horrid thing and the noise nearly knocked me on my ass. eventually with a lot of cringing, and nearly crying i made my chicken salad.
Tonight after watching the movie "Mystery Men" i got a pretty insane craving for egg salad. the only problem is that i watched the movie around 1am, and in my area, most places are closed, and any egg salad that was pre-made had been put together HOURS before hand and were most certainly not for human consumption. so i decided i was going to make my own egg salad. I went to the store and bought a dozen eggs. on the way home it dawns on me... I don' know how to make egg salad, I know it involves eggs, and (yuck) mayonnaise, and some sort of red spice but other than that I was clueless... so I'm once again searching yahoo for a recipe on how to make egg salad.
step 1: chop boiled eggs... within 4 seconds of reading this it hits me that I don't know how to boil an egg, so back to trusty yahoo, and i have to type in the humiliating sentence "how to boil an egg?" evidently in the 21 years I've been on this planet I've never had to boil an egg. now i know what you're thinking, she must be some sort of princess, or an idiot - really I'm neither. when i was young i was pretty spoiled, but as I've grown up less and less things have been handed over to me and I've had to start doing more things for myself. I'm just no good with domestic activity. but back to the eggs.
i got a pot of water rapidly boiling, and i drop in an egg... the first egg i throw into the pot cracks, and now i have this egg leaking and coagulating into my pot of water. the next few eggs i use the same trusty grilling tongs and gently place the eggs into the water. this method seems to work... i let the eggs boil and boil and boil. 15 minutes, and a thousand checks later i have six hard boiled eggs. I do the same awful mayo gig, cringing and mixing, and almost crying and 30 minutes later i have my egg salad.
now, to figure out this toast business.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)