Giving up.

So, this little 60 in 60 thing isn't going to be finished. I haven't baked since the 19th of October, and that's fine by me. Life has been a little more than baking recently. So: I'm giving up on 60 in 60. Which is fine. I don't feel I've left myself down and I don't feel that I'm any less of a person because I didn't complete this. I had some fun, and I made a ton of great cookies. I also helped Bona Responds raise almost $250.

What have I been doing recently then, if not baking?

My brother turned 30 on the 20th. There was a party. I made cupcakes and a cake. Both were delicious. Then I got sick. Deathly ill, waking the boyfriend sick. The next day I did some theatre work at St. Bonaventure University. I ended up turning the houselights up and down for Michael Cooper. I also spent 20 minutes of each show being creeped out by a giant baby head. I did that for two days, then on Friday I spent the day with my friend, Lis. Since we're both ultra-broke, unemployed, former SAC employees, we spent the day walking around various shops, turning in out pop cans (nickels, FTW!), and looking at Owl Homes.

Owl Homes, for those not in the know, are pre-manufactured homes. Apparently, you choose one by going on a lot and looking through all the model homes and then deciding which one you like best. Some are even decorated so you can see their potential. Most of them have awesome kitchen islands installed. All of them have enough shower space for two people. One of them has a fireplace in the bathroom.

In the bathroom!

Since then I've watched a lot of television, and sat around on the couch a lot.

Sunday, on the other hand, is going to start a whole new challenge. (Well, I've done part of it before.) Sunday, I officially begin my 6th year of NaNoWriMo. It'll also be my first NaNoWriMo as Municipal Liaison (ML). If you don't know, being a ML is a big, huge, awesome responsibility. I'm, officially, in charge of herding cats, basically. All the other NaNoWriMo writers that go to write-ins and post questions on the forums and need pep talks. I'm in charge of them. Making sure they play nice, making sure they have all the answers they need to write, and making sure that they have all the pep they can handle - plus some!

Oh, and I also have to write 50,000 words in 30 days.

Well, it's 6am, that last paragraph didn't make sense, and my cats (the fur kind) need petting. Also, this post should have pictures, lots and lots of pictures. At least two of them should have bathrooms involved and at least one of them should have a bathroom fire place. There was even going to be a picture of me wearing a very large headset. But, alas, the laptop won't reconize the memory card from the camera.

Here, have a picture of puppies instead:

Ah, life.

I'm unemployed again. (Well, I'm calling it FUNemployed, but really, I don't leave the house much except to go to the video store.) Which really means that I've done almost nothing of interest, have seen nothing of interest, or even really heard of anything of interest. So, in the meantime, here's a video of a monkey taunting a tiger. Enjoy!

The sun didn't melt me!

The river near our pavilion.

Wednesday was the day of our "First Hopefully-Annual SAC People Picnic" at State Park.  I spent the morning cooking pies (two of which didn't melt), then I spent the afternoon outside..in the sun.  (I would add "with normal people," but these were SAC people, and they're not normal.)  

Timmy making a spork, because I told him to use the open silverware first.

(I didn't know there weren't any forks left!!)

Chef Hippie showing even hippies can double fist.

Brother making Gram's PBR Kielbasa.

The sun stayed out most of the afternoon and it was actually a semi-pleasant day filled with food and fun.  The park was quiet, except for us, and the sights were beautiful.

Our "SAC Height" badmitton net (we were missing a pole).

Mmmm...beer kielbasa.

Believe it or not, I took this while in a moving vehicle.

What do I do after spending a day outside?  I spent that evening, and most of the next two days in bed, alternating between napping and catching up on television shows.  Once, the curtains blew open and I was bathed in bright, bright sunlight.  I screamed so loud my neighbor yelled to the window to see what was wrong.  I replied, "The sun.. it burns!" He laughed and continued his yard work.

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And can you believe, while I was outside, a waitress was arrested for shooting a customer that threw a waffle at her? What is the world coming to where wait staff can't let off some steam on their less-desierable customers?

Required Work Post

For those that don't know, I work as a waitress in a Native-operated Casino/Hotel.  There are only two girls on my shift, myself and pregger-Jess.  Because pregger-Jess can't work in smoking, she has the earlier shift and I take the late shift.  We tend to work really well together and generally there are no problems on our shift, regarding shitty service, because we help each other out as needed.

Last night, was concert night.  Buddy Guy, whom I had never heard of before, was playing.  Also, there were three buses, the last of which left around three.   Overnight buses suck by themselves.  Concerts suck by themselves.  Put the two together, especially when the buses are from Cleveland, and the night is going to be full of suck.

Sorry, you just suck.

Because of my lack of car, and my ride's starting work time, I arrived at the SAC an hour and a half before my scheduled shift.  Joy for my managers!  "JessAnn is here anyways, lets put her to work!"  Yeah, I tried to ignore them and read my book, but it didn't work.  (Not that I cared, it was just the point.)  Between 10pm and 11.30pm I did nearly $300 dollars in sales.  I think my twitter said it all:

"Ahhhhhh!"

My favorite part of the night?  When all the printers in the kitchen decided they were on strike.  Yes, that's correct, pregger-Jess and I thought we were putting orders back to the kitchen to be cooked, but instead, we were feeding the same monster that eats the socks from your dryer.

"Gimmie your socks and orders!!"

One table took great advantage of the sock monster's craving for order tickets, 103.  103 had been transferred to me, as the original waitress wanted to head home, standard procedure.  I go back to check on the food some five minutes after the table was transferred (she said she just put the order in, it was two orders of wings, that takes around nine minutes).  Oh joy, she put the order in fifteen minutes before it was transferred to me, add my five minutes of dicking around, the wings have been in for a total of twenty minutes.

But, where are my wings?  "We don't have a ticket for wings," one of the cooks says to me.  Oh joy.  I pick up the expo ticket on my side of the line and hand it to him.  He reads it, looks at the time on it, "Oh shit.  I never got this!"  Luckily, Chef Pretty was walking by and he heard the ruckus.

What do I tell my table, Chef?  "Tell them.. tell them we ran out of wings and had to get fresh.  Yeah, tell them that and that we need five minutes."

Wonderful.  I go to the dining room, fake smile in place, head held high, and explain the situation.

"This happened to us last time too!"  Ah, fuck.

Chef Pretty gave them each an extra half order of wings, to apologize for the wait.  He even left the comforts of the kitchen to explain to the table himself what had "happened," not something most chefs are willing to do.

But, sadly, 103 was still unhappy.  They were standing around looking for me when I delivered the food.  "We were about to leave," the man says, "this is ridiculous." 

 Whatever, we gave you extra food, shut it.  "I'm sorry for the wait sir, but Chef did give you each an extra half order of wings for your paitence."

"Is it half off day at this table?" the lady quips, "Tell your manager it's buy one get one free on chicken wings today."

Aw, shit.  "Will do m'am"

Needless to say, they ate every fucking bite of the three orders of wings we gave them and payed for only one, with comp points.  Luckily for me, Chef Pretty was already in a bad mood before my lovely table, so now I can fear his wrath that much more.

Toasters (And the girl who catches them on fire.)

Last night, during an extremely boring shift at work, I found myself contemplating what I should write about in here.  As with anything, I had many ideas in mind for this space up until it was actually created.  My mind was blank, until I was in the car this morning, on my way home.

My bestest friend, Kara, and I stopped at Mac Daddy D's (McDonald's for all you not in the know) and got breakfast.  Halfway through her McMuffin, she turns to me and asks, "How do you burn an english muffin?"

"Well," I began, giving her the look I often do when she asks stupid questions like that.

Thus, inspiration hit me smack in the head, much like a V8 commercial.

We have an industrial toaster where I work.  You know, the kind that the toast kind of rolls through, instead of just sitting in one spot warming up.  It's nice in one respect (and one only), you can fit nearly a whole loaf of bread in this thing at once.  But, this stupid toaster has a mind of it's own.  You can put two pieces of white bread in at the same time and on the same setting, and you'll get out two pieces of toast - one of which is burnt to a crisp.

Also, the toaster has it out for me.  Seriously.

When I first started working at the Seneca Cafe, a year and a half ago, the toaster and I got along.  Sure, every once in a great while, I'd get a piece of raisin toast stuck in the back and burn my hand pulling it out.  Well, after cussing the toaster out for the third time, it's decided that I'm public enemy number one and I must  be destroyed.

Example 1: I was minding my own business, making white toast for a customer, when the toaster started to crackle.  Toasters aren't supposed to crackle.  I run over to see what the hell is going on, and sure enough, the stupid thing is on fire, again.  I tried to pull the crumb tray out, hoping that'll cause the toaster to get it's act together.

Normally, this works.  

Not today though, no.  The actual heating element of the toaster had decided it was sick of just sitting there, burning my toast all day.  No, it wanted to go on the same fun ride that the toast went on.  Then, the heating element managed to get stuck in the conveyer belt.

I had no idea what the hell to do.  So I did what I do best.  I yelled "fire" a few times.  We work in a kitchen, this should have people running.  The cooks stood there and stared at me like I had three heads.  After the fourth time of yelling it, the sous chef, Chanin, came running from the other end of the kitchen.  

She tried turning it off, but the thing kept crackling.  So, she ended up unplugging the toaster.  With an amused look on her face, she asks me, "How do you manage to break things without even really touching them?"

The fire caused the toaster to be taken away for a whole week.  To make up for the missing toaster, maintenance brought us two normal, push down toasters.  It was the best week of my life.

Stay tuned for Example 2.