A vacation for me! Not to a warm place though.

I'm going to be taking a trip on my own for the first time since Zoe was born.  I did go to California by myself for a few days in 2012, but that was to visit my grandfather while he was still lucid. He died four months after I saw him, so I'm hesitant to count that as a vaca.

This time, I'm going to be traveling to Iowa.  Yes, Iowa.  I'll be visiting my friend Sarah, the owner of Envisage 365 online art project.  It's a website where women post a photo a day for a year.  This is the 7th year it's been going.  I haven't been able to keep up this year, but I was a charter member and was very active in years 1 - 6.  The project is very important to me and was a vital part of getting through my breakdown in 2009. 

Sarah and I have watched each other go through a LOT in the last 6 years.  Even though we've never met in person, I call her my friend and she calls me her friend.  We communicate on Facebook every day because we both spend almost all of our time online. 

While I'm there, we will be going to stay at the Villisca Axe House in Villisca, Iowa.  What is the Villisca Axe House, you ask?  Check it out here:  Villisca Axe House.  It's supposed to be terribly haunted.  Therefore, we will be spending the night with Sarah's daughter, a friend of her daughter's and some other people.  We're bringing cameras and a ouija board and our overactive imaginations.  My biggest fear is that some of the locals will see us staying and scare the shit out of us by banging on windows or making noises outside. 

This town is very small and I'm sure we'll stick out like sore thumbs.  Sarah's daughter with her snake bite piercings, me with my leopard coat and Sarah with her tattoos may advertise us as people in town to spend the night in the murder house. 

After our little overnight adventure, we're going to go up to St. Paul to spend the night at another friend's house as the three of us are going to go see Miley Cyrus the next day.  Sarah has told me to be excited even if I'm faking it.  It also looks like we're going to be wearing full body pajamas that are designed to look like animals.  Mine is a wolf.  We're going to have fun. 

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  in the winter time make sure to moisturize your hands and your hair more than you usually do. 

So, it's like this see

The smallest of choices can make big differences in someone's life.  Today, after some internal debate, I decided to go to the craft store closer to my house instead of driving to the bigger one further away.  That way I could go to the Wal-Mart up the street and get the other miscellaneous stuff I needed.

On my way out, I decided to go see what was at Redbox since Scott was going to be late-ish.  I could watch a movie.

As I'm browsing, I notice a woman sitting on the floor in the foyer.  She's looking at her phone, nothing out of the ordinary.   I heard an older couple ask her "What breed?"  and I look over.   She has a puppy in her lap.  I hear her say the puppy is a red heeler and she's looking for a home for him since she lost her place and can't take care of him anymore.

What do I do?  I go over and look at the little guy.  I held him and he was a little cuddle bug.

I tried to text and call Scott but I wasn't able to reach him.  I told her that I couldn't reach my husband and I didn't want to make a decision without him.  I got her number in case we would be able to take him.

When I got home I instant messaged to Scott that I almost brought home a puppy, then I told him the same story I just told you. 

He said "You could take him.  If the doofi don't like him, at least he'll have a place to stay until we can find another home for him."

I sent a text and went to pick the little guy up.  The woman I got him from was staying in a by-the-week budget hotel.  I paid her $60 and watched while she said goodbye to the pup.

"I lost my husband and my other dog.  Now I'm losing him."  She hugged him and said "I'm glad you're going to a good home. You be good."  Then she went into her room while I walked away.  My heart is breaking for this woman, who is obviously down on her luck.  I didn't press her for details, I just got out of there.

I named him Fender.  I took him home and spent 20 minutes introducing him to our other 2 dogs, Gibson and Peavey.  Peavey got a look on his face that clearly said "Oh, fuck my life."  and went in another room.  Gibson is the one we were concerned about.  He exhibits some aggression towards other dogs.  He wants to make sure that everyone knows he's the alpha dog.  We can't take him to the dog park because of this.  But, he took it pretty well.  He wagged his tail really big while he sniffed Fender all over.  He let him walk around the living room but stayed close to him.  There wasn't any growling or snapping. 

I took the puppy to school to pick up Will, who was thrilled.  Will held Fender in the car on the way home.  They played together while we waited for Zoe to get home.

We sat in the front yard and I hid Fender under my shirt while she walked down the street from the bus stop.  When I showed her what I was hiding she froze for about 5 seconds.  Then she started to squeal with excitement.

A couple of the kids' friends came over and swarmed all over our newest family member.  Now, I'm supervising everyone around the puppy. 

We were going to go to the local renaissance faire this weekend, but we'll be putting those plans off until next weekend.  Tomorrow we'll go to the pet store for supplies.  Then we'll come home and continue to see how our new dynamic is working out. 

Damn, but he's cute.

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  Coconut oil makes an excellent deep, hair conditioner.  It will actually penetrate instead of coating.  A big jar of the stuff isn't super expensive and will last a loooong time. 

I share my greatest failure with you.

As everyone who knows me is aware, I went to culinary school during 2011-2012.  I received my certificate about a year ago, four months after I completed my program. 

I first got the idea to attend cooking school in 1997.  Since the kids were in school full time, it was time for me to make that dream happen.

I got so much out of it.  I learned a huge deal and I felt very, very accomplished for completing the program.  I suspect I was second in my class, but I have no proof of that.

I have different talents than those of my classmates.  My niche is comfort food and baking sweet things.  When we started on our cake classes, I was the one my fellow students came to for advice.  I  was the only one to make an Italian meringue frosting come together on the first attempt.  The pastry instructor who was assisting my teacher in checking our work gave me high praise.

(Italian meringue frosting is made by whipping eggs for a loooooong time until they become high in volume and fluffy.  Then a simple syrup is created by boiling water and sugar together, twice as much sugar as water.  The hot syrup is poured into the eggs while the mixer is going.  The last step is to start adding in butter until it reaches the correct consistency.  This stuff is sweet and very buttery.  Sinful and decadent.)

Armed with my certification and my year of experience interning at a local cupcakery (thanks Amy!) I started applying for jobs.  I applied to bake cupcakes at a local company who popped an ad up on Craigslist for half a day.  Out of literally hundreds of applications, mine was pulled out along with exactly 5 others.  I wasn't selected, but I was assured the decision was a difficult one.

I found a position at a grocery store looking for a baker.  I went through an extensive interview process and I got the job!  I was super excited to learn more and have a source of income that would include benefits and discounts on anything I purchased.

I did two weeks of training at a different store than I'd be working.  My role at this store was to do the early morning frying of donuts, baking muffins and bagels then setting up the display case for the opening of the store.  Then I assisted the lead baker with breads, rolls, cookies and cakes.  I pulled the frozen product for the next day and stored the product that had arrived that day.  I was told I had done well.  I felt good about how I'd do. 

When I got to the store where I'd be working, things were very different.  First of all, the staff was short by three people.  With a staff of eight, this is a significant shortage.

I was excited to be working with the manager as he had trained in Switzerland.  I knew I could learn a huge amount from him simply from watching.  I was ready to take on this challenge.  

The manager put me on early frying and doing ALL the baking for the day.  All of it.  I was doing the job of two people.  I worked from 2 a.m. to 2 p.m. five days a week and I still wasn't cutting it.  I was going home sobbing every single day.

Then there was the manager who yelled, called me names and questioned out loud why I'd been selected for the position.  He didn't give me guidance for my first few days, just let me leave loaves in the proofer far too long, wouldn't tell me to put toppings on the loaves or tell me where to find them.  And, then he would yell at me.  I can take constructive feedback, but telling me he was told I was smart but I acted like a stupid person is another thing.

And the kitchen was filthy.  I mean filthy.  Like, the sugar glaze for the donuts and other pastries wouldn't get stored properly each day and bugs would get in it.  Baking sheets were left dirty instead of being washed.  I wasn't shown how to work the giant dishwasher or how to drain the oil in the fryer, which was a gross dark brown.

I seriously played with the idea of just not showing up on my fifth day of work.  I was miserable.  I was failing. I was failing epically as my son would say.  The money was good.  But my soul was dying.  I gave exactly one day notice.  Then my son's school called to say he had a fever.  It turned out to be the flu and I'd have to stay home with him on what would be my last day.

I went home and cried.  I cried for hours.  I had failed.  I had failed like I'd never failed before.  I'd created chaos, stress and difficulty for other people.   I had crashed.  I had burned.  I had burned up to a crisp. 

I was discouraged and wallowed around in negative self-talk telling myself I'd been fooling myself that I could make a career out of cooking.  One of my classmates had landed a job at one of the highest rated, white tablecloth restaurant in the city.  The one other female in my class was running a kitchen at a local bar and grill.  Another was managing a take out place near campus.  Yet another was working at a fancy resort and had been quickly promoted.  And I had just fucked up a job at a grocery store.   I was still cooking at home for my kids, who begged for Hamburger Helper and Ramen noodles.  Wow, I was really putting that year of training to work.

I took a couple of months break and started looking again.  On a whim, I applied at my local location for a major coffee chain.  The hours could flex around. I could go in early , but not 2 a.m. early.  I could leave in time to pick up my kids.  Being a big corporation, massive overtime wouldn't exist.

My background is in customer service.  I can work a fast pace.  I learn quickly.  I told this to the store manager and I was hired.

I've been there for about 10 months and I'm doing great. I'll blog about what I do another day.

Today, I'm going to make rosemary and garlic infused pork chops with a berry compote accompanied by mashed potatoes for Sunday dinner.  I'll bake up some brownies to have with ice cream.  Then I'll go to bed early so I can go to work tomorrow at 4:15.

And I tell myself that it's fine what I'm doing with my life.  And I'm trying very hard to believe that.


Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  In the winter time, you'll need to exfoliate more often due to the dryness heaters cause.  When you scrub more often, use something gentler, like baking soda with your facial cleanser.  And up your water.