The good life
Aug. 27th, 2005 06:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slipjig3My hands smell like fajita marinade—olive oil, lime juice, cilantro, paprika, garlic, oregano. It pleases me.
I've made a decision of the Life-Sized variety: I am going to culinary school.
That was actually the plan at one point, but I decided against it because I didn't think I had the temperament for something as high-pressure and stress-inducing as that. Then, a few weeks ago, I was watching a cooking show, slack-jawed and contented, and I thought, "Temperament, schmemperament." Cooking is that rare beast, an activity that me genuinely, to-the-bottom-of-my-mortal-soul happy. It simply does not compute as work; if I'm cooking for others, triply so. There is joy there, and there is absolutely no reason why I should not pursue that joy.
So. Culinary school it is. Not this year, and not the next, but it will happen. Until then, any time you're in the area, give me a call. I'll make you dinner, no questions asked. I'm serious. We'd love to have you.
I've made a decision of the Life-Sized variety: I am going to culinary school.
That was actually the plan at one point, but I decided against it because I didn't think I had the temperament for something as high-pressure and stress-inducing as that. Then, a few weeks ago, I was watching a cooking show, slack-jawed and contented, and I thought, "Temperament, schmemperament." Cooking is that rare beast, an activity that me genuinely, to-the-bottom-of-my-mortal-soul happy. It simply does not compute as work; if I'm cooking for others, triply so. There is joy there, and there is absolutely no reason why I should not pursue that joy.
So. Culinary school it is. Not this year, and not the next, but it will happen. Until then, any time you're in the area, give me a call. I'll make you dinner, no questions asked. I'm serious. We'd love to have you.
