No, Bob. It is not porn.

"Find something you're passionate about, and keep tremendously interested in it."

          (CHILD, Julia) 

Now, school is been over for three weeks almost. And I am back home (is it really?).
I have been searching for a new job (yes, the other one was not as good as it sounded at first). And I also took this time to play around with my new knives, reproducing some of the school recipes, as well as creating a few more.
Eating, folks. That is something I just can not give up. Oh, Ms. Nutritionist, by that I mean good food. I could think about ingredients and techniques all day long... I know! It seems that I've got some new thing to go insane for.

The good news is I found out tonight (after a delicious chinese-kinda meal) that I am going to get published. Wow! No, no, no! Not me, nor The Book. One of my short stories* will be in an american magazine.
Hurray! It is a nice feeling, I must say so.

Cheers!


* No, Bob. It is not porn.

The clam delusions

"Please, please somebody help me!"

The clam screamed to the cook, who did not noticed  and opened the shelf killing it.

How was I supposed to be able to hear its pleading? How was I supposed to know its pain? Where its story began? Well, I may not know the answers to those questions, but I know how it ended. Twenty people fully satisfied with the clam and its similar taste.  :)

====

Besides the clam's pain, I complain now my own. My whole body is sore. The lunch at the restaurant was pretty crazy today, and we had to deal with three missing members of our team. But, at the end, everything was just fine.

First things first

First things first. I am a culinary student about to finish school. Going through the waves of emotions (yes, I am a woman) of the Balzac age, as well as the doubts of my own knowledge of what I've been proposing myself to do as a profession.
I do not doubt my culinary skills, however I do feel a little insecure. Insecurity, that is (probably) the right word for some of my problems. Maybe so.

I've been losing control and I no longer have control of some, big, part of my own. What would I do? I keep trying to endure things on my own, over and over again.
This kind of behavior could be the end of my sanity.

Sometimes, More often than I wish, I feel myself going crazy.
Am I crazy?