This weekend I had the great joy of heading up to Bloomfield for the annual 'lil Italy days, or whatever they call it...fuck it, DEGO DAYS MOFO! It was pretty awesome...hot sausage, meatballs, gnocchi, fried dough, cannolis...I'm half Italian (the good half), and half Polish...thats a pretty good mix for Pittsburgh. I was always surrounded more by the Italian side of my family growing up. Lots of time with Nan making pasta and wedding soup. Playing bocce ball @ family reunions, and lots of eating...I love seeing all the old Italian dudes come out all dudded up in crazy hats and cool shirts. It's a good chance for all the Younger mook types to come out in their track suits, and pretend to be a mobster. I would call this year a success. I got to hang out with my dad and step-mom, my kid, and my buddy Jeff. we got sick on fried dough, and I got to re-live some catholic school guilt while laughing at these three old nuns eating funnel cakes
and getting powdered sugar all over themselves. If I wasn't already going to hell...I'd go to hell.
Recently it would seem that my free internet connection has gone away...since I moved in I've been lucky enough to find a signal somewhere in the neighborhood that was not secure. Recently people seem to be getting smarter. Good for them, bad for me. It would seem that my time on the interweb will be limited to time spent pounding coffee and posting all my rants. So get ready for all or nothing...like a retarded fence maker...these posts are all fucked up!!
Starting fresh is often intimidating and scary...this for me is no exception. I assumed when I made the big move over to Soba that I would start on the bottom wrung, making makis and work my way down the line...I was thrown to the wolves...tossed on wok station, the most beastly and daunting of all stations. I hoped to work my way up to wok soon, but didn't expect to start there. Props to Brandy for believing in me, & the rest of the kitchen folks for humoring me...I'm digging it after one solid shift on line. I know I'll pick it up quick...I've got a good coach. Lia is the baddest of bad wok cooks...I think I found my new drive. I'm ready to be a bad mofo. Life is o.k. sometimes.
What's the deal with the angry snotty opinionated assholes on the internet?! I'd like to be able to comment on their respective blogs...oh, wait, they never give up their identities...pretty pussy move. The comments are usually so intelligently worded as well...keep up the good work, anonymous!
I've yet to really delve into my distaste for hipsters on this thing...I think I've danced around it, but let me just say, for the record, hipsters make me want to punch stuff. I'm always amazed by just how much one hipster can out hipster another. This scenario hit a new low for me recently when I became aware of the latest "craze"...crippled chic. Thats right people with crutches that have no physical handicap!!! When the fuck did crutches become cool?! There she was...one crutch, festooned with punk rock decoration, walking with a crew of badly dressed poor young boys who aparently don't have one full length mirror between them. I don't know...maybe it's me. Maybe I'm just an old bitter jaded fuck, but have we really come to this. I was just coming to terms with a bunch of kids born in the late 80's celebrating a decade in which they were still shitting in their diapers...now this. Fuck it! I'll outdo you all...I'll take it to the next level. I'll start wearing diapers again...shitty pants chic! A call to arms...any hipster who has any sort of sway in that community needs to do this, just to see a bunch of kids in a coffee shop waiting in line for the bathroom to change their pampers!!!! Priceless...
Theres a lot to be said for it's all about who you know...Pittsburgh is a small city, and the community of cooks and other restaurant types is even smaller. Good cooks tend to do alright, and when they find a good gig are taken care of...otherwise it's out the door and not too difficult to get snatched up quickly. I've done a lot of learning and growing working with some really fucking talented cooks...it's only made me better, and helped the 'ol resume. I started getting my resumes out early in the week. A little worried at first, I soon landed at the doorstep of Soba. I'm excited to start and can't wait for the nightly maki beatdown!!! I'll be there at the end of the month, so stop in and buy me a Jizake!
Gotten to hang with a few old friends recently...got me thinking it might be a good time for a fond look back at the "good old days" at the Red Room...Please to enjoy some dumb shit! (technically the pic of Tim is at the Bigellow, but it needs to be seen.)
Not being one of the most optimistic people I know...I feel it's time to turn over a new leaf. While the future is uncertain, I'm not sure thats always a bad thing. I'm definitely looking down the barrel of a gun at the moment. Needing to get down to brass tax and find a new living arrangement...get this job thing wired...and pay off some debt is now small task. The disappointment regarding recent developments at work is fading to more of a numb feeling as I wait to see the outcome of clustefuck '08. I'm feeling more positive about some good coming from it, but am getting tired of telling everyone I meet about it. I had the least to lose on that gamble, but it sucks none-the-less. It feels more and more like the time I should make a solid grab for the brass ring. I'm not getting any younger (and certainly not getting any prettier!). Go stock yer station! (p.s. some of you may recognize this photo as a pretty common douche, thanks Tyson)
The stages of grief are not reserved for death & break-ups...I've been going through them all week. The older I get the more I'd like to think I'd gotten some shit down , but you know what? I'm not ready for this level of fuck-ed-up-ed-ness. I knew the risks involved when I came on board, but I honestly thought this might be the last step down I took on the path to righteousness...I'm not getting any younger & the timeline is growing smaller. Believing in something & someone so completely can be a dangerous thing. I just want to carve out my own niche...Getting to the ultimate goal seems to be getting closer, but still seems worlds away. I've managed to take myself pretty far from where I started...I know I can get to a better place, but how many hurdles will I jump along the way? What little optimism I had was crushed today when I was made to feel the full scope of my worth in the eyes of the shot caller. I've got a ways to go, but I'm better than this...