Thursday, May 14, 2009

End of the road

Guys, can I be honest? My life is kind of a mess right now. A year after I finished my education, I'm still jobless and living at home with my mother. (There was a short stint working as a personal assistant to a pretty major artist, which would have actually been an amazing job if they'd had real work for me to do and weren't so passive-aggressively batshit crazy, but that's a story for another time...) I'm still toying with the idea of going to pastry school to live out that childhood dream of opening a bakery. I still want to go back to Paris at some point, although now I'm not so concerned with it happening rightthisminute.

You'll have to forgive the quality of this post. I finally decided to get back into blogging after a six-month hiatus, and I'm a little rusty. Everyone's been asking me if I've been doing any writing, and it hurts every time I have to say "no, not really" because a)I love writing and b)I fell like a lazy slob for not even being able to write a measly blog post every once in a while. So, here's a brief update on my life, for those who are keeping track (although seriously, why would you?):

- Weight loss never happened. That huge bitchy post about Lindora pretty much sums up my feelings on the situation. I definitely do need to lose weight, if only for health concerns, and it probably wouldn't hurt my mental health either. But I am done paying for shit, done berating myself, done with fad diets (I almost wrote 'fat' - HA!), done paying for a trainer who constantly pisses me off and usually makes me feel bad about myself through no fault of his own. I keep saying "I will do it, I will do it," but I never do it. And I'm not saying that this is the time, that this is different because I'm going to do it, because I'm not an idiot. I'm not going to set myself up for failure. So I'm going to take a tip from Kim over at the Kim Challenge and just try to make healthier decisions and integrate small changes to make a big difference. Hopefully this will last more than two weeks.

- I've discovered being a personal assistant is NOT for me. My employer was concerned that I was overqualified and that in a year, I'd get bored and leave. I told my friend (who helped me get the job), "trust me, if I get bored, it won't take me a year." A month and a half in, I started resenting having to drive an hour through downtown L.A. just to drive someone else's kids to school and do someone else's grocery shopping. So another few weeks in, I got sat down for "the talk." So now I'm back to being an unemployed Master of the French Language in Orange County.

- The friend who helped me get the job was more shocked that I'd been fired than I was. In our post-firing lunch, we decided we needed our own project, and that the project needed to be a bakery/cafe, and that we were serious about it. No, seriously. We've yet to get together for a business meeting, but soon enough we will and hopefully things will work out. So if I ever refer to L and "our place", our future awesome, award-winning, hugely-popular bakery/cafe will be what I'm talking about. Of course, for this to happen, one of us needs to go to business school, and one of us needs to go to pastry school. Or win the lottery. Or both.

Unfortunately, that's all I have for today. I'm going to move this over to a different blog because Toto, I don't think we're in Paris anymore.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

So, update?

I've been a little absent, mainly because my life currently consists of baking and taking care of my mom who's recovering from some pretty intense surgery. She's fine, and actually she can pretty much take care of herself, but I'm around to do the heavy lifting, reaching, driving, etc. I'm still looking for a job, which obviously isn't going so well, seeing as how the economy's in the crapper and no one really wants to hire someone with a Master's in a language no one uses on this coast. Needless to say, my life is at an all-time boring high, so I was thinking maybe I'd just hold off on the blogging for a while, until something interesting happens, or until I can live with myself for indulging in the narcissistic trend of blabbing on and on about the banalities of my everyday life.

But before I go, can I just remind everyone to feel themselves up and take care of the twins? It's October, and you're supposed to be doing it year-round, but I doubt you all are, so I figured I'd do my part and remind you to get checked out, stay healthy and show cancer who's the fucking boss. Hint: it's not cancer. Just ask my mom.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Is it the weekend yet?

Living jobless in suburbia can get kind of tedious, which is why I'm grateful for my mom's season tickets to the Ahmanson. I don't go to the theater as much as I'd like to, since it's so expensive (see that last bit about being unemployed), but every time I go, it makes me really sad I can't do Summer Stock anymore, especially when the show's as high energy and fun as the one we saw.

So, you're going to laugh, or maybe hate me, but 9 to 5: The Musical was really good. It wasn't outstanding, and they'll definitely have to do a bit of fine-tuning before it starts its run on Broadway, but the music was upbeat, the leads were all fantastic (oddly enough, Allison Janney was the weakest), and the set design was actually pretty amazing. Not that I'm a theater critic or anything, but I just thought I'd throw it out there, in case you're looking for something fun to do with the girls in LA, or need to take your grandmother on a nice night out.

I'm sorry my life isn't more interesting, not just because it means I'm bored out of my mind, but also because it means I don't have anything to write about for whatever three people still read this. There's this girl I went to college with - she works at a big-time women's magazine now, lives in New York, goes gallivanting around all the time and writes two successful blogs, and I'm kind of jealous. Well, kind of is an understatement. Now, I know I'm in a crappy place when I'm envious of someone with an entry-level job. But we all have to start someplace, right? I mean, she's not Tina Fey or JK Rowling (which may or may not be a good thing, depending on your taste and idea of success), and neither am I, but I have no doubt that in 20 years, we'll both be speaking at Smith at some poetry center event on how to break into writing. All I have to do is, well... break into writing. So I guess I should get off my ass and get back to those unfinished projects, right? Dammit, I hate it when I give in to logic.

Friday, September 5, 2008

The honeymoon is over.

I miss Paris. Like, a lot. I can't explain it, but I think I felt more at home there than I do here, a place which is, in fact, my home. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. Maybe I just miss speaking French all day and dealing with the psycho boulanger down the street, and waking up to Notre Dame and scooters speeding down rue Monge. Maybe I'm just extremely bored and have started using my time trying to devise ways to move back to Paris and avoid being a contributing member of society, including going to pastry school at none other than the queen of all culinary institutions, Le Cordon Bleu. Well, I was devising that plan, until I realized that a six-month diploma in pâtisserie would cost me the same as my entire Master's program at NYU, not including rent and expenses. Although I'm still thinking about it - maybe not this year, maybe not even next year, but if I ever want to fulfill one of my many, many dreams of opening a boulangerie in the States, I'm going to have to do it at some point anyways. Maybe after a few years of working for other people, saving some money and figuring some shit out, I'll know what I actually want to do, and I'll stop having anxiety attacks every night as I go to sleep because my future is unclear and completely unplanned. Until then, I'm just going to to keep tinkering in my kitchen and try to figure out how to make réligieuses.

On the Lindora front: man, does this shit suck. I decided three weeks into this "rapid, safe weight-loss" program that low-carb is not for me. Excuse me, but I bake. And I eat what I bake because I am, and want to continue to be, a good baker. And also, who really wants to go to a crappy clinic way out of the way of everything in their life, every day, to weigh in and get shot up with vitamins? Thank you, but no thank you. I let a nurse give me a booster shot once, and I ended up crying the whole afternoon, not from the pain, but from the disappointment that I'd actually let her talk me into it, that I'd let another human being inflict that pain on me, and that I'd paid for it. I was so upset with myself, I'd come to the conclusion that if I'd let her talk me into it, that meant that I really did need it, or at least that I wasn't capable of doing it on my own, and if there's one thing I don't need in life, it's you telling me what's best for my body, since obviously I know all and am infallible. I just didn't want to be at the point where I was relying on someone else to help me lose the weight, or worse yet, lose the weight for me. And that's when I decided I hated Lindora, I hated the way the nurses talked to me like I was five years old, I hated cutting entire food groups out of my diet, I hated being told how much to eat and when, I hated seeing every morning that I hadn't made any progress because I faltered and ate - gasp - one measly little chocolate chip cookie (ok, so maybe it was four), I hated going in and seeing everyone's before and after pictures on the board, wondering why I wasn't following in their footsteps and dropping three pounds a week, I hated hating myself because I wasn't dropping three pounds a week. Never in my life had I ever been so obsessed with my weight, or so upset about it. Sure, I was never really happy I was fat, but when was the last time I actually cried because of it? High school? Ok, sophomore year of college, I confess. The point is: why would I want to be a part of something that I don't want to do and that makes me feel like crap day after day? I'm young. I'm starting to be active again. And I'd rather be active all the time and eat what I want in moderation than walk and eat only from a list of foods that fit on half a sheet of paper. I'd rather not diet and watch what I eat than be obsessed with numbers - carbs, points, calories, whatever. (Ok, so calories are actually, in reality, important.) The only number that really counts is the one on the scale, and I don't want to be obsessed with that either. I just want it to be smaller. However long it takes to get smaller, I don't really care, though sooner is always better than later. I just want it to get there.

And that, my friends, is why I hate dieting.

P.S. If you see me in person, and have noticed that I've lost weight and would like to compliment me on it, don't. Seriously, don't. I don't want to know that "you look so good! Have you lost weight?" or worse, "you look like you've lost some weight!" Don't ask me about my diet, don't ask me how I'm feeling if it's related to my weight loss, don't tell me "good for you for working out with a trainer". I don't want to hear it. ANY of it. I'm doing it for me, and the only reason I blog about it is because it's an experience. When I'm done losing however much weight I want to lose, I'll let you know, and then you can congratulate me. But until then, I work out for me, I watch what I eat for me, I'm losing weight for me. Not for you, for me. It's my body, and I'll compliment myself if I want to.

P.P.S. Also, do NOT ask me how my diet's going. If we go out to eat, don't ask me if we can go to certain places, implying my diet being a cause for concern with the phrase "I don't know what you can eat." Like I said, I'm doing this for me, so it's my problem. I don't want to be treated differently, singled out, or treated like it's always Passover because I'm trying to lose weight. You know what I'm doing, and I know what I'm doing, and I'll figure out what to eat at restaurants, and everyone within a thirty-foot radius does not need to know that I'm dieting. Dammit, it's not your news to tell. It's like all other activities and conversation topics have ceased to exist since I started trying to lose weight. I'm sure people with fertility problems don't really like talking about that with everyone on a night out either.

Oh, that felt good.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

I think this blog is kind of dishonest, since I don't actually live in Paris anymore, and since I'm making a considerable effort to no longer be a fat American. I think I'll eventually start a new one, since new phases in life deserve new blogs, right? Well if that wasn't a 21st century sentence, I don't know what is.

Two things of import. Ok, three. First, I watched Molière and Bringing Up Baby, and they both made me so happy, even though one of them is kind of sad and the other one is ridiculous and classist and blah blah blah, all that stuff from the 40s. Second, I'm thinking of real estate as a career, but I was watching an episode of Scrubs yesterday and Kelso said that all the people not cut out to be doctors quit after a year and get their real estate license, so that kind of made me feel like a quitter who can't do anything right. Third, I've been working out with a trainer, and holy hell, my muscles do not like that. It's effective, though, and I think it's just what I need to get out of that summer boredom slump.

Lastly, this:
I do not wear glasses, nor do I paint (or have a condom dispenser belt - how cool would that be?- or a truth transmitter), but I like to think if I was a superhero fighting AIDS, this is what I'd look like. Go to GI Jonny to make your own and learn some facts we all know already (or definitely should) about HIV and AIDS.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some brownies to make.

Edit: I like this one better:

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Dear World,

I need a job. And also, to stop eating cupcakes. Please help.

Sincerely yours,

Thursday, July 31, 2008


Thesis is done. I need a job. Also, a life.

New goal: become independently wealthy by my 23rd birthday so I don't have to do bitch work for egocentric producers, publishers, or writers. This gives me precisely ten days to make my millions. Why am I still wasting time on the internet?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Almost Done

Why I love Southern California:

Life is pretty good. I'm almost done with my mémoire - probably only about 15 more pages to go, depending on how much patience I have left for Tom Stoppard. I've been spending all my time in Starbucks, and I'm convinced I've drunk all of Huntington Beach's iced tea.

I've decided not to blog about this whole weight loss thing. I don't want to be one of those people that only talks about whatever diet she's on, and it always seems to me that people that do, do it in part because they're fishing for compliments. It's something I'm doing myself, for no one but me, and as such, I don't think I really want to share it with everyone else. Also, if truth be told, I really can't stand talking about it. So there. Unless something extraordinarily funny or amusing happens, expect not to hear about it. Actually, expect not to hear a lot for a while, until I can figure out what I want to do with this thing. I'm going through a moral dilemma of whether to keep it or not, because it's pretty much only about me now, and I'm not that interesting, really. And thanks to Facebook and Myspace, anyone who wants to know what I'm up to can find out there. But I'm sure something will happen in the near future that annoys me or that I find interesting, seeing as how I live in the freak show that is Orange County.

Until next time....

Thursday, July 3, 2008

(soon to be not-) Fat American in...America

I can't be bothered to put my thoughts into complete, coherent paragraphs today, so here you go:

-Why is it that when you unsubscribe to an email list, they send you an email confirming it? The point is I don't want any more goddamn emails from your stupid site, so stop sending me shit confirming that I told you to stop sending me shit! Jesus!

-Mémoire writing is going slowly and very painfully. I am so done with this shit I cannot even begin to tell you. Basically, I am ready for it to be over and for my life to start again. Or just for it to start, period. I figure I'm about 20-25% done, and if I step it up tomorrow, I could be almost halfway done by the end of the week.

-I signed up for the same weight loss program my mom is doing, and I'm pretty terrified, for many many reasons. At some point there will be some sort of breakdown, and you'll probably hear all about it because I tend to overshare. And it will probably be hilarious because, oh holy God, the people at this clinic are CRAZY. (I got blood drawn today and I'm convinced the nurse doing it was a rookie, since she went through every step and explained every little thing to me, like I was a 10 year old child. "Now I'm going to invert these ten times and then I'll get your Band-Aid. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.)

-I've reached the point where I never want to move away from California ever ever again. It's been an unwavering 75 degrees and crystal clear since I got home, and it makes me almost sublimely happy not to have to keep all the windows open in the house while I shvitz myself to death after climbing a mountain of stairs. Sometimes you have to deal with douchebags and idiots, but it's a trade off, really.

-Public libraries are really....interesting places. Calm enough to do work in, but just sketchy enough to not want to let your kids run around by themselves.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Fin de partie

Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to grace the internet with her presence. I'm finally back in California, and for the moment, I'm really happy to be home. I'm not looking forward to unpacking, considering there's a whole mess of stuff I left from when we moved in, but at least I have a big comfy bed and consistent internet and my friends and family close by. And Cocoa Pebbles. Now all I need to do is write that pesky mémoire and my career as a student will officially be over.

Oh yeah, Spain was amazing. A country that sleeps in late, eats its way through the day and makes it to the finals in Eurocup? Yes, please! I would post pictures, but I didn't take too many, and none of them are that amazing. Just some nice memories of a wonderful trip.

Leaving Paris was kind of sad, although I didn't cry like I thought I would. The last couple of days were hectic, trying to get everything packed and saying goodbye to everyone... Gérald gave me a book of Duras which I probably won't have time to read until August, but it was nice of him. When he comes out here I'll have to pretend like I've read the whole thing.

I'm not going to do a conclusion post, because I think they're sappy, trite and pretty unnecessary. I know how I feel about the last year, and if you've been reading, I think you probably do, too. As for the blog, I don't know what I'm going to do with it. This summer I'm planning on doing this weight loss program that my mom's had a lot of success with (100 lbs. worth of success - seriously, it's crazy, you should see her), and I can't decide whether to blog it or not. There have been (and are) so many weight loss blogs, some turned into books, I just feel like there's nothing left to be said about it. But considering the nature of this program and the fact that it'll be my first real effort in the last couple of years to actually lose weight, it might be interesting. Anyways, let me know what you think, and if there's an interest, I'll do it. It'll give me something to do besides reluctantly writing my mémoire, and it might be un-boring, especially to all you skinny types who've never had to deal with any of this shit. You'll learn, and I'll get some free therapy out of it. It's a win-win situation all around.

For now I'm going to try to get over my jetlag. I've been waking up at 6 every morning and going to bed at 10, and it's starting to feel like senior year of high school again. (By the way, I just went through my senior yearbook and realized just how unpopular and awkward I was.) But I may be teaching this year, so maybe I should just keep with it. We'll see. Au revoir for the moment. Keep checking back to see if my life in Orange County is as (un)interesting as my life in Paris (hint: it won't be).