Thunderous Storm

The other night I fell asleep to the pitter patter of rain on the roof...quite soothing.
A few hours later, I was awakened by the loudest crack of thunder I think I have ever heard! It was a bit of a scary moment! I froze into a rigid, confused little ball. The rain had become a torrential storm, beating against the building on all sides, and an icy cold draft stole through the window, snaking its way around my neck and beneath my warm duvet. My roommate was away so I was alone in this big old room, while the room became fully illuminated again and again as lightening struck, and thunder boomed milliseconds afterwards.
I was right in the very center of this storm!
I still can't believe how loud the thunder was...seriously, it was so intense and crazy. It sounded like the property was ripping apart from the very core of the earth. I'm not one to be afraid in a thunderstorm- I actually think they are fantastic, and enjoy them very much- but I'm not going to lie to you...I was a little freaked out. This one sounded like it was right outside my door. And it was. I wondered if our building would be struck by lightening and set on fire. Luckily, we were spared.
However, a tree in the high-ropes course just behind us was struck, and ruined.

The next morning it was all anyone could talk about.
All us BC-ers were so wowed, but everyone from East of BC was like, "We get storms like that all the time!"
Craziness! It was a first time for me!

Epiphany

I think that's the right word...

Today has been strange.
The day before my BIG SCARY EXAM.
I've been able to kinda avoid thinking about the exam this past week. "Its a week away"
But these last couple mornings, I've actually woken up early, my heart racing, and my imagination chasing after it. All the "what if's" haunt me.
Today...I basically had nothing to do but think about the exam. I get so panicky!! And then a second later, I'm like, "You know what? I don't even care. Whatever".

It finally struck me, that maybe that is true.
I am actually pretty fine with the thought that I won't be going into the 3rd semester. Shhh, don't tell anyone, ok? It intimidates me, and since I'm already not 100% sold on the idea of being a cook for the rest of my life, I sometimes wonder if it wouldn't be a waste of time. Maybe I don't need to take the third semester...maybe I just want this to be a hobby, and I can just keep on learning as I go along my merry way, in my own time.

Anyway, getting back to the point:

I think that I'm not scared of passing or failing. Sure its nice to pass. And you never feel great when you fail. But I can deal with either scenario, and its not the end of the world.

I think I'm scared of the actual test. The challenge, the preassure, the watching eyes, measuring my every move. I always second guess myself. I dont' like when people can see my insecurity.
I'm scared of what they will think when I make a mistake.

Really, I just want it to be Friday night right now. Pass or Fail, I don't really care at this point. I just don't want to experience that gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, mind-numbing panic that I know will knock me to the ground when I am handed my menu tomorrow morning.

Accident Prone

I'm beginning to think maybe I should just not get into cars anymore.
Something always goes wrong.
Remember Peppy, my beautiful shining specimen of a Honda Civic?

September '08- Day of Purchase

He shines no more.
Now he is bumped and bruised, and today something awful happened to him.
I was just merging onto the highway from Dallas, and as I picked up speed suddenly the hood flew up, smashing into the windshield!

Mike sympathizes with poor Peppy

Luckily someone pulled over and helped me tie it down so I could drive home.

There are some glass shards on my dashboard

The hood latch has always been a little "off", but I guess the last time I opened it up, it didn't close properly and it broke loose today.
Now I have to get a new hood, which probably won't be the same color as the rest of the car, a new side mirror, and a new windshield. A week before I leave.

Siiiiiiigh.

Death By Ladder

Do you ever wonder how you will die, or when?
I don't, usually...
But this morning it struck me that I don't want a really lame cause of death. Something stupid like Genghis Khan's infamous nosebleed.
Actually, had circumstances been slightly different as I was driving to school this morning around 7AM, someone might have been obliged to relay to you the tragic and stupid cause of my demise: death by ladder.
I was heading up the highway towards TRU, just past the Brick, when I noticed that the truck ahead of me had not properly secured its load. Stacked on top of other equipment, a large steel ladder began to slip. I had only a second to realize what was happening before it fell off the truck and crashed onto the asphalt, sparks flying. It bounced, coming towards me.

Confession: I probably, not quite sure, but maybe...closed my eyes and squeaked in fright.

I also braked and swerved, and the ladder skidded to the middle of the road, without hitting anything or anyone.

PHEW.

My hands were still shaking when I got to school.

It could so easily have bounced right into my car, and through my windshield.
Kinda freaky.
Ok, really freaky.

I know everyone's gotta go at some point, but I really would prefer not to go like that.

Anxious

I've been on the brink of panic since Tuesday night.


Wednesday morning I was scheduled to do a practice practical exam.
Since I was all caught up on my assignments, I asked my teacher if it would be possible to do this, so that I could better prepare for the real deal, which will happen at the end of the month.
Here is what will happen.

I will have approx 4 hours to put out 2 servings of:
1. a mayonnaise
2. a soup
3. an entree, with an assigned starch (potato, rice, or similar dish) and 2 chosen vegetables
4. A dessert, or bread product

Thing is, I won't know specifically what I'm making until I get there.

Each will have to be put out at different times, for instance, 10 AM, 11:30 AM, 11:45 AM, and 12PM.
Our garbage and compost will be monitored, to see if our waste is reasonable. They will also be marking us on professionalism, organization, skill, and a load of other things.

Since in class we usually are focusing on one thing at a time, this whole multi-tasking under pressure thing is FREAKING ME OUT!

Tuesday night I couldn't sleep. Well I guess I did, but it wasn't for very long. I woke up around 4AM with a racing heart and anxious mind. And this was only for the practice! When my alarm went at 6:20, I was already wide awake, and feeling sick to my stomach. I couldn't eat breakfast.

When I got to school around 7, my instructor said that I should set up as best I could, and we would start at 8.

When the hour finally rolled around and he handed me the sheets of paper, I was almost hyperventilating. I converted the recipe amounts, and quickly jotted down a workplan- the bane of my existence.

I was to create two artichoke and feta stuffed chicken breasts, spaetzle (small, pasta-like dumplings), and cheddar cheese soup, as well as the mayonnaise. I didn't have to make a dessert because all the dessert stuff is downstairs in the bakeshop.

Honestly, I've never mise-en-placed anything so fast in my life. I threw my mayonnaise ingredients into the fridge for later, and got to work on my chicken. When I was about ready to bread them, my instructor called all the entree students over and began talking about the exam, and explaining what I was doing, and how it would all work. With all those people there, watching me...I just lost it. I did the stupidest things, that haunt me to this day. Three days later :P

I can't even bring myself to tell you the retarded things I did. The shame...oh the shame.

Needless to say, everyone was looking at me with raised eyebrows and very skeptical expressions. Expressions that read, "How exactly did she get into level two?"

After my instructor gave me "the look" and the little confidence I had withered away, I just said,
"I CAN'T DO THIS WITH YOU WATCHING ME! GO AWAY!!!"

And they all laughed and moved on.

I, obviously, haven't moved on.

Despite a setback of having to redo my mayo, due to excessive amounts of vinegar (another boo boo on my part), I got it out on time, and my soup was also punctual...and very, very, delicious...If I do say so myself.

However, I waffled on when to put my chicken in the oven, and didn't follow my instincts...it ended up being 15 minutes late. Which is UNACCEPTABLE for the practical exam.
Also my spaetzle was gooey, and my broccoli was unseasoned...and I breaded my chicken with the skin still on...stupid, stupid mistakes.

I wanted to cry.

My teacher didn't seem too upset. He said it was a good learning experience for me.
He also said it was interesting what pressure did to people. He saw me make mistakes I'd never made before...he didn't specifically mention those moments of shame, but I knew what he meant. And you will never know. ha!

As he picked apart my food, and my day, he summed up by saying it was a "maybe" pass. And this was a relatively easy dish. So now I am extreeeeeemely nervous about the real practical exam. Especially because I will have a dessert/bread on top of everything else.

Breath, Jill, breeeeeeathe.

I could hardly eat for the rest of the day. My insides were in knots. Knots, I tell you. Little waves of anxiety would run all the way through me. I felt sick.

And even though that was just the practice, and it was three days ago, I'm still having trouble sleeping at night because my mind is racing, and I still feel sick to my stomach when I think about this darn exam!

Ps. I don't handle stress well! What am I doing in this industry?!?!

I Dread Airports.

I have an inexplicable dread of airports.
Its not that I've really had bad experiences with them. I've actually not had many experiences with them at all. Its just something about them that makes me tense and nervous. All my fears rise to the surface when I'm in an airport: what if I don't make it on the plane? What if there's something in my bag that shouldn't be there? what if they don't let me into the country?
Its like everything suddenly becomes a huge deal. The stakes get higher.
Mostly I just feel very alone and vulnerable in airports. That's what it comes down to. Suddenly everything is up to me, I'm the only one responsible for my well being, and no one can come to my rescue if I screw something up.
I don't mind flying, in fact I love flying. The take-off is exhilarating! And I absolutely love arriving in a new country and peering out the window to investigate a new and exciting place. Its just that in-between stage (here I go again...) of getting through the airport. I can't breathe properly until I am far away from airports.
This presents a problem for me, because in the next 2 months I have to go through a few different airports. I have to fly to Edinburgh, and then fly again from London to Vancouver.
Maybe I will conquer my fears? Somehow I doubt it.

Confession Time

It seems like half the people I know already heard about this, so might as well fill everyone in all at once and be done with it.
Saturday night I drove my friend Ange out to the mall for some shopping and hanging out. At around 6 PM we decided to make a stop at a downtown coffee shop before heading home. The light turned green, and I accelerated and started to make my left turn and then- BANG!!! I slammed on the brakes and my jaw just dropped open when I saw a green car skid just past me (where did that come from?!?!) , the driver's door smashed in and the lady staring at me with wide eyes. Always being of the swifter set, I turned to Ange,
Me: "I just got hit."
Ange: "Yeah."
Then I noticed two things:
1) There was a big hunk of white metal peering at me from the other side of the windshield.
2) I was still in the middle of the intersection.
I finished my turn and pulled over, remembering to flick on my hazard lights. I was a little dazed. I mean this seems like one of those things that happens to everyone else. I made another brilliant comment.
Me: "I was just in an accident."
I figured I'd better look at the damage. The whole left front panel was torn open, the headlight smashed, and the bumper dragging.
Me: "Oh Shoot. I'm so dead. I just ruined my mom's car. She's going to kill me!"
Its safe to say that I am not one of those people who remains completely calm in an emergency. At that point I began to lose it.
Me: "Ange! I don't know what to do! I just destroyed the car! And the lady's gone and what do I do!"
Then it occured to me that Ange had a cell phone so I called the one person who I can count on to remain calm in an emergency: My Dad.
He answers.
Me: "Dad I'm so glad its you that answered and not Mom!" (I inherited my panicking abilities from the maternal line)
He knew from that point on it wouldn't be pretty. On his instructions I called the police and then we waited.
I couldn't remember how the whole thing happened- whether I had turned on a green arrow and it was her fault, or whether I had turned on a green light and it was my fault. I was a mess. Thank heavens for Ange and her calm reassurances that the lady was nuts-o and obviously since she drove off without exchanging names and such it was HER fault. Unfortunately we soon learnt that the lady had pulled into the Superstore gas bar and was wating for the police as well.
At that point something told me that my chances of getting out as the victim were slim.
Turned out that my instincts were correct. The policeman soon deduced that it had in fact been my fault . I had just not seen her coming and that was the cause of the collision. Fortunately no one was hurt.
I got my first ticket. Humiliating, but well-deserved.
And I just discovered that I totaled our van. Well Mom, now you can get a (...erm...I hesitate to say "new") car, just like you wanted to. Just a mixed blessing, right?...?
I learned many things from the experience.
1) that I will probably always be a little paranoid about left turns from now on
2) that even though my first thoughts were on the van, I should've been more worried about everyone's health, because as Ange so sagely put it, "You can't put a price tag on your life!" (thanks for keeping things in perspective Gella ;P)
3) My family really, really, really, loves me. Not that I didn't know that, but it they were so patient, kind, and forgiving about the whole thing.
I was especially touched when big brother Paul came home after taking a peek at the van, gave me a quick hug and said,
"I'm just glad you're safe Jill. Don't worry about the van, there's lots of vans. There's only one of you." (or something totally emotional and out of character , like that) and of course my Dad's comment on the other post.
I don't know what sort of reaction I was expecting (but I don't think it was positive) but my family just blew me away with how amazing they really are! Thanks guys!!!