dancing despair

well, people have begun to go back to school, and so I start to blog again for those good friends o mine who i do not see often.

funny, i am sitting here listening to amazing music, namely priscila ahn's song "dream" and garsh if it isn't applicable to muse about dreams right about now. you see, mine seemed to have been paused, set back, put back into perspective for me. i am now jolted into seeing the big picture because of my short sightedness. you know, unfortunately i get in trouble so often when i fail to balance the two: the being in the now, the seeing the big picture. cliche cliche cliche eh? but anyways, enough vague and partially explained thoughts.

culinary school may be put on hold for something i wish i had more of, but something i despise at the same time that i like it. money. funding. cash, baby, cash! oh how it evades me, but oh how i find the money to buy silly little things. actually i take that back, most of the stuff i buy nowadays, i eat immediately and gain immense pleasure, i wear all the time, i read and enjoy and learn, i listen to over and over. oh but it is the bigger things, the education funding, that i am so reluctant to give. mostly because of my outrage at it's expensiveness.
you see, i went all the way up to Portland with my parents to visit the campus of the western culinary institute on Friday of last week. needless to say, the campus was awesome, but my visit was awful. i had not truly involved my parents in the process of enrolling or anything at wci. they knew nothing. oops. needless to say when we sat in silence at the school's restaurant, the silence was tense and filled with each of our own irritations. my father spent the greater part of the tour asking where i would get in life as a baker. awkward. my mom just kind of skittered about and obsessed over the fact that my shellfish allergy was going to be my downfall as a chef. i was silent and brooding, but smiling at the guys that checked me out (????? what??? i guess i looked sharp that day. ha...). and my adviser who was guiding us through the halls full of people i was jealous of, and full classes of staring students.

back to the tense lunch, we hear sputter bursts of argument amidst silence. tension mounts until bursting point... oh goodness. all is not well. there is drama, there is tears. there is a very incomplete argument on my part about me not making it at whitworth and why, me upset that i seem to be the same silly girl as i was in high school, happy, but blissfully ignorant about so many things, me upset that i seem to be moving nowhere in getting away from that unadventuresome person. me saying that i just want to do SOMETHING, and something that's not so boring as staying at home and working. living with my parents. living day to day knowing i have failed myself in some way that is inexplicable in type. poop poop and poop.

for the cheery cherry topper.... we do not have the money to put me through school. at all. in this moment i take time to shed bitterness my sister's direction. SHE picked an expensive froo froo school, whining about using her $5000 plus that she has to get the cat fixed. damn her anyways. oh and pause again as i lament the fact that i wasted a year's worth of money whilst finding myself in a roundabout way at that same froo froo school. damn. so anyways. needless to say the conversation got nowhere, except to get me to cry in public. damn. embarrassing. oh and then my dad and i continued to argue out in the courtyard. it was then that i realized things were very very wrong. dad said something like "i don't know how you got to the point where you despised us so much" and i was like WHAT??? where did that come from and.... yeah this does not make sense when expained now.

BASICALLY it would be very very very wise of me to stave off culinary school until.... next fall and in the meantime save money save money and save money! like no other. at the same time as hating money so much for controlling the course of my life right now (it seems). oh poopers. part of me would like to just pack up a shitload of camping gear and go backpack all over. living in a tent and a nice foam air mattress. and avoiding bears and rapists. ha. (bad joke i know)

so here ends my musings about my paused dream. or the things i was impatient to start in the future. gosh. maybe i SHOULD just save money and camp gear, move to France, leech onto some chef there and learn from him/her, speak French, travel about Europe, visit Joe a bunch. ahhh. Europe. find some dude whilst i get lost in the moor in a rainstorm and some hottie gentleman finds me and rescues me. *sigh* so romantic. also i stole that scene from sense and sense ability. funfun. :-) ok. time to.... look at wedding dresses and tent supplies and baby names online. oh chill evenings! ha.