Tag: personal growth

T Minus Countdown

Ok everyone, so it’s the last official day before we officially start serving the general public with their opinions and their impressions and their reviews.  Am I nervous?  I would say terrified is more appropriate of a feeling.  Am I starting out with safe desserts?  Crowd pleasers that are tried, tested, and true?  Well, no, obviously.  That would be too easy.  There is risk involved, there is a good chance of failure.

Things not helping my anxiety:  the boys are killing it with their dishes and their execution.  These are professionals with professional tongues.  Every time I taste the food, my ego is like “what the fuck are you doing here?”  I have wanted this for a very long time, I have worked very hard to get here. I have the training, the education, the creativity, the work ethic, the vision, yet still, I feel unprepared, and no amount of work will make me feel prepared.  After a 6 month build up, and 3 weeks of work til you drop, the focus of a med school student, I still feel like a wet lost dog.

Thanks for listening everyone, see you on the hot side of the counter.

Dear Diary, A Teenage Inspired Adult Entry

I need a lot of wine to function, I need a many a taco to operate.

I need a hot passion and a cool demeanor to balance my feung shui soul.

I need your heavy hug and I need your soft skin to calm my stormy weather.

Do porcupines cuddle? Is softness just an abstract?  They say that you like the way a person smells when you like them personally. Do you like the way someone feels when you like them?

I want to be excited but I am afraid.  Afraid of failure, afraid of waking up early, afraid of making ugly art, afraid of being bland, afraid of being too bold.  I am afraid of making spelling mistakes, I am afraid that my outfit is too eccentric, I am afraid that I have nothing to say. I am afraid of running out of ideas, I am afraid that my concepts are crumbling.  I am afraid of not prioritizing properly, I am afraid of butterfingers.

I want to feel excited and pumped and so sure that I am making a winner.  Something super cool.  Something that people will get excited about.  Something sweet, but not too sweet that you miss the subtly involved in creating superb experience.

Today I tremble.  Tomorrow I hope to be bravely bold and smoothly savvy.

The Pessimistic Pen

111 posts and still my spelling is showing no signs of improvement.  In fact, it has gotten worse. I still have to struggle through every word, I still get letters mixed up and misaligned.  I thought that all this practice in the exact order of written communication would help my memory, would help jump start the motor to phonetics, but no.  It has made me more confident to make errors, to triple check every word less of a frightful panic.

I never thought I would say this, but thank god for voice typing, I can’t wait until I get enough confidence in technology or under go the demagnetification process for my fingers to tackle this new feat.

I love the written word, but lord does it scare me.

Chameleon

Art is about having a vision, expressing your stylistic mind, and being flexible with your grandiose designs.  A concept can be amazing, but sometimes in practicality the idea does not pan out.  Creativity is about being fluid, not getting too caught up in the one direction that you thought would drive your boat, steer your car, build your model empire.

I want to be successful, I want to make things so delicious that it is magazine worthy, that gives a lasting impression on your taste buds and also on your imagination.  I had an idea, I thought about it a lot and hard and in many ways.  I try not to get married to an idea without the proper courtship, but when an idea is born you get attached.  The concept was solid, the individual components were stellar, but together the harmony was wrong.

I have great taste, but if the final play does not match the concept, it is time to tweak.  Not start over, or consider the idea a failure, you have to be flexible and confident enough to come up with a new strategy.

Do not consider yourself a failure because it didn’t work out the first, second, or hundredth time.  I want to be perfect the first time so bad, that I have to remind myself that art is an evolution, and being successful takes a lot of patience.  Creativity is knowing when something is wrong, and coming up with new ideas to lead your project in a different direction.  You might surprise yourself with the new, unintended outcome.

Art is growth, simplicity is complicated, and rules are fluid.

Today was a learning and humbling day, but through this process you gather strength in your artistic eye and salivating mind.

The Poor Man’s Slow Hustle #2

The red line speeds its way through the tunnel, creating a machine roar that echoes through the bustling city.  The train’s loud cries are a part of daily life, it is the sound of progress, of facilitating hard work, getting it done as that saying once went (years ago when the red neck movement was hip)

The train is affordable, reliable, and sometimes very speedy.  Except of course, once the red line passes the Addison stop, all of this modern progress and hype is simply thrown out the window. Once it passes that last stop of dignity, the train simply gives up on life.  It moves slower then a grandma towards a sale at target.  The hustle in the step is so quickly forgotten, and the monetary unfortunate are left to the fumes that the train has left to unjet us home.  It moves so slow that it is just a little bit faster than walking.

The wealthy people who live further north of the select downtown and midtown stops, they take the purple line.  That train was invented for rich people.  The purple lines runs right next to all the stops north of addition, but will never ever stop at any of them.

In this slow desert of transport, I sit impatiently waiting for the most unambitious train to heave me home.

the poor man’s slow hustle

Its hard to be creative when you are always tired.  Where is the inspiration when even mundane movements are gruesome?  Where is the hope when the justice of any pay off is not there?

I am afraid of working too hard because it is going to make Marigold dull.

I am afraid of loosing her sharp edge with the dulling intensity of work.

-Me

Scrambled Eggs

It’s not that I am dyslectic

It’s that I get excited and jump ahead.

I don’t care about the exact order right now.

It’s not like I don’t understand the analytics of phonetic jig

I just don’t really care.

Does dyslectic entail being too concerned with the entire parade instead of those tiny details of tiny letters?

How did the Egyptians do it with the superbly detailed drawn language?

Cursive, the lazy man’s scribble,

is seriously a lot of work.

Grand Central Station Style

Seriously why do so many emails even exist?  It’s not ok, not possible… why?  It’s so much worse than junk mail.  Worse than all those endless bills and reminders of bills that have now gone paperless.  Worse than the stacks of bed, bath, and beyond coupons.  Worse than flyers filled with pages of information about nothing.

Even with spam filter, my inbox is out of control like my curls on a humid day.  Why do I have over 1000 emails? Its ridiculous.  Stop. Sending. Them. It. Is. Not. Working.  Not you, real people, I am talking to auto emails.  Just stop.  Nobody is reading them.  Not today, not ever.

Try Mr. Postman again if you want to get a real message.  The press and send button is not cutting any diamonds my friends.

-Marigold.

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.

A Change is Going to Come

Tomorrow I am going to say a few words that are going to change my life.  I know its going to happen because I am the one deciding to follow the opportunity for a new job.  So tomorrow I am going to tell my current kitchen adios, its been short and mostly fun.

I am afraid to do it because I know that it is very unexpected, and I don’t want to say goodbye to my friends.  I feel like I am sitting at a point where I am going to tip into a new direction, but nobody else around me knows that the mountain is going to roll with a different slope.  I have changed my life so many times that it’s daunting because I know what is in store.  I am not sure I want to do it again.  Start afresh and anew, undo everything just to redo it in another manner.  Close the shop, move everything, unpack, get resettled and acquainted with the surroundings, develop a bond with the people around.

Since attending pastry school 5 years ago, I have lived 4 different apartments and have worked in (kiki’s, custom house, girl and the goat, publican, farmhouse, province, cicchetti, deleece, now la sirena) 9 kitchens.  That is a lot of life change for one girl.  This constant shifting and continual movement is making me quite tired.  I am exhausted of starting over, of turning the page over again and seeing a white sheet.

Am I afraid to do it again?  Yeah, kinda.  Am I excited?  I am too tired to fully answer that question right now.  Truthfully I am not entirely sure how the situation is going to unravel, I cannot predict what the reaction will be.

Today was the last day to be simply today, par for the course, clear sailing, everything is just like it normally is for a Saturday.  Tomorrow we set sail for a new course, to chase a new star.