go ahead and try it, you just might like it.
slide right in, you know you want to.
Adjective Addict
I love adjectives, too much. Somebody stop me. Seriously. I have a problem with over description. I describe the descriptors more than I describe the narration of the story. It is a corn maze of details that easily lead the reader away from the main point, and into a labyrinth of imagery.
Is it getting in the way too much? All this cluster fuck of descriptions? Is my meaning getting lost in my choked up amount of modifiers, prepositions, determiners, qualifiers, parenthesis? Too many attributive, predicative, and nominal examples of adjective use in my stories? Is it like that thrift store on half off day? It is too much to handle?
I can’t help it, my adjective addition problem. I love trivial details…. I love trivial details on people’s lives. Tell me a story. A story about nothing. Or that is about something. It’s not mundane, by any means. It is the description. It is what happened. It is an entertaining list of adjectives and I want to hear it.
Eating in America Suck #2
Americans have an unhealthy obsession with plastic and it has to stop. I do not understand why so much disposable plastic is produced and wasted by everyone all the time. EVERYONE ALL THE TIME!
Why does everything have to be wrapped in plastic? People feel a weird sense of security when their food comes all bundled up like a chirstmas package. Please do not let the outside world touch my food! This food has been grown in a labaratory and has never been exposed to human hands, or pollution, or chemicals, or dirt of any kind.
A few examples:
Please be sure that you do not place any naturally wrapped food (which will peeled prior to cooking or consumption) directly on that dirty, god forsaken conveyor belt at the supermarket. That thing is made out of rubber, and you know what they say about rubber. Rubber really gets around. Its nothing like pristine plastic. Plastic is super clean. Godly clean. Pastic wrap is pretty much the closest thing to god that we have. Nothing like that devil rubber conveyor belt that has touched literally everyone else’s food. Gross.
For bulk buying, or food service demands, that thin membrane of the grocery store plastic bag isn’t strong enough to support the contents in the bag. So please put fragile contents in a cardboard box. But you know what they say about cardboard boxes, they are unreliable. So mind as well wrap that cardboard box in plastic. Godly plastic saves the day again!
I am not joking or exaggerating. Plastic bags placed in boxes that are wrapped in plastic. This is like normal. Every day.
Oh, it continues, this PLASTIC rant.
Be sure to save the uncooked/unconsumed/ unused product in plastic. As for your leftover dinner, be sure to also cover that in plastic. That way, when you go to reheat it in the microwave, all you have to do is press a button. Or course it is perfectly safe to eat things out of plastic. Plastic is godly, and definitely does not cause cancer.
Clean up is a breeze when everthing is wrapped in plastic. You don’t have ANY dishes to do whatsoever. Simply take the plastic, and put it in the plastic garbage can that is lined conveniently with a plastic bag. Dont worry, the plastic will disapear completely with no threat of getting into our food supply. It’s magic, it’s godly.
So much plastic you can’t even imagine, I know. It is sick. We have a plastic problem.
fruit punch
the colorful punch
of my diamond cut eye.
Every Day is a Parade
I am just a silly girl trying to keep a smile painted on my face.
I am a clown trying to dance on stilts.
The puppeteer pulls my strings without hesitation,
My relaxed spirit replies to the jolted jazz.
I follow the joyful beat through the street,
I follow the fantastical floats and the stories they promote.
Ice cream colored confetti highlights the hurricane of excitement,
The stream of music sways us in uniform.
Keep up with charade, its fun to play along.
Keep up with the drum major’s tempo,
Its best to stay in the step where you belong.
The Oracle
All things considered, the internet is a modern day god. It is omnipresent, omniscience, an infallible calculator, a diagnostic genius, a translator for all languages, and an expert keeper of records. The internet is not opinionated, or susceptible to flattery. It has pretty much eliminated human error.
I call the internet the Oracle. The Oracle is wise beyond any singular human, the Oracle’s sovereignty is uncontested. It should be scary but google is so user friendly.
What to do? For any situation, literally anything (you can google amateur surgery), consult the Oracle.
How to do something? Step by step instructions for literally anything (you can YouTube how to build a house), consult the Oracle.
When your internet is out? WWWWWWWTTTTTTFFFFFFFF? It is pandemonium. How do you work? Nobody writes with a pen anymore. Pay for anything? Nobody uses checks anymore unless. Go anywhere? You need the Oracle for yelp reviews, for directions, to personalized maps with a current location pin, to contact your personal chauffer for the short trip across town (uber). Having no internet access even for a few hours can be crippling.
How the did our parents live? Remember when you couldn’t even image life without a cell phone? Now try to imagine life without the internet. What was life like before tiny portable electronics? Maybe I ask consult the Oracle…
Sugar’s Dilemma
I am a Pastry Chef who doesn’t eat sugar. It’s more than confusing, it’s a paradox. My career revolves around a singular subject, one type of ingredient that takes on multiple forms. Glucose, fructose, maltose, sucrose, lactose, whatever the crystallization, the commonality is the sweet sensation. Honey, turbinado, jaggery, molasses, confectioners, maple, sugar beet, sugar cane, whatever the source, the building blocks of taste are the same.
My nickname is Sugar, that’s how ingrained this ingredient is in my life. I personally, however, avoid consuming sugar. I try not to eat it. Ever. I do this for health reasons. As you may have heard, sugar is linked to all kinds of weight and mental issues. All I know is that I feel better when I avoid it. I try to eat a very high fat and vegetable diet. The problem with the Paleo lifestyle is that it is literally impossible to be a Pastry Chef who doesn’t eat sugar. It makes no sense, it is not logical, professionally unacceptable, a contradiction.
Sugar is a dilemma. It gets a bad rap, but has a place on the dinner table. I have carved a career about of the very thing that I try so hard to avoid. The problem is in the excess. Sugar is everywhere and in everything. It is not left to the special birthday cake, a once in a blue moon sweet. It has gotten so out of control that sugar is even in water. The singular essential ingredient to human life, and that too has been enhanced with the manufactured syrup of modern eating.
I put it in everything, but that is because I put it in the proper role. I am a Sugar Fairy that knows what percentage of sweetness is perfect for taste and digestion, how to construct a plate that is balanced with a touch of salt, a sprinkle of acid, and good amount of crunch, a lot of creamy texture, a silky mouthful. Sugar is important. Sugar is fun. Sugar is a life enhancement but it must be used cautiously. You leave that part up to me.
For now, I will keep on trying to avoid eating peanut butter bacon cookie dough, mint chocolate chip ice cream, lemon curd, or chocolate mousse for breakfast. I need to remember to take a hint from myself and save it for the right time.
The Writer’s Conundrum
I am the worlds worst speller. I joke that the only word I know how to spell is my first name. (Although my first name is 8 letters long, it did take me a while to master it in elementary school.) I would loose at the word loose in a spelling bee. At first I said thank the Good God for spell check. Now I say that the Good God for Google.
It is pathetic, my inability to spell. Not only am I a full-fledged adult who learned cursive in grade school, I did not have the use of computers throughout high school (everything was hand written, can you imagine!), I went on major in English in college. I have a BA from a top ten university in a field of study in which I lack a key concept.
The extent to how much spelling affects my life is embarrassingly amazing. My personal conundrum is far beyond my power to control it. I construct sentences around the spelling of words. I am writer who cannot spell, I am a poet who must choose words wisely.
There is a good chance that I am dyslexic. A very good chance that I am very dyslexic. I read words starting with the end and then ending with the beginning. Then I have to remember to flip it in my head before I read that word. It gets exhausting. When I write, I have to concentrate on every word to make sure that is comes out properly. The only way I know how to spell anything is via memorization. The order, the proper placement of algorithm of letters, are lined up in my memory stacks.
I am hoping that writing more will help me with spelling, and give my the confidence to not let the written word hold me back. Most of the time it is the hesitation that holds me back. Marigold is to help me cool my sensitivity and memorize more word blueprints.
Brunch Inspiration
-Bacon Cheddar Biscuit-
Puffed Up and Perky
Flaky Tissue Paper Stacks
Sewn together with Butter
Yearn Towards Golden Perfection.
Oh Those Summer Nights
The Summer Night is not hot enough anymore. It chilled down enough that I need a scarf wrapped around my arms and neck to accompany the midnight moon.
For two short weeks the hot summer night was so inviting with its hot hug. The dark heat was heavy with its continuous embrace. The cling of sassy summer was humid and relentless, like a middle school crush.
This all-encompassing heat is a consistent reminder that winter’s minty demeanor is far, far away. This is why I like to be hot when I sleep, to toss aside even the lightest of sheets, and sail away to kingdom of dreams uncomfortable in the comforting heat.
marigolds forever 
