Thursday, August 6, 2009

Purpose, it's that little thing, that lights a fire under your ass

And money I certainly do lack! I finally sucked it up and made my purchase of my books for this upcoming semester. I will admit, thanks to and I was able to cut down the prices considerably, it still a hell of a lot of money! Tuition is already enough as it is, I say, BOOKS FOR FREE! Wishful thinking but at least I like books, if I didn't there would be more of a problem to this! Books = love.

So, I've had something on my mind for a while now and I guess blogging about it might help me make sense. Bit of a back story first. I've had an interesting relationship with food all my life. For as long as I can remember I've been truly fascinated by chefs and all forms of cooking in general, especially baking. In 7th grade I started working at the Onion. It was then I decided that I wanted to be a chef when I grew up and I began to embrace the idea. When 8th grade rolled around I got right on applying to 2 high schools that had speciality cooking programs; I wanted to be a chef, badly. I didn't get into either school and after that the desire began to fade. At my 8th grade graduation I received an award for excellence in English and writing. Um, excuse me? Writing? I loved reading and writing so I figured that since I was good at that. Even in high school I received recognition for my skills in English and writing. OK then, guess I'm an English kind of girl. Freshmen year of college was, well, interesting to say the least; the idea of food was highly involved but in the worst possible way. I was still an English major at heart. However, as time has gone on that little girl inside me who wanted to be a chef has been making her presence more and more known. There have been times times this summer where I've sat and read cookbooks for hours. My dad brought in a box of cookbooks from our garage and I was ecstatic. I've been baking and reading about why certain ingredients are important to certain attributes of a recipe.The idea of cooking for people and bringing them joy because of what I made is an amazing thought, especially because I believe that food does have healing properties and more people should embrace that fact. I'm amazed at how I could've forgotten how much I LOVE working with food. It's one of the best feelings in the world and I know for a fact that I would have no problem with doing that for the rest of my life.

That TERRIFIES me though. I love being an English major, I really do, but is that what I'm meant to do?