oak

Alright, God damnit, thats just enough, or too much yeah, too much.

Treating my first 6 weeks in London like a 6-week New Orleans vacation has gotten me very little other than shaky hands and a drastically shrunken bank account. Im not here to drink myself to death (a guy at school yesterday started calling me Leaving Las Vegas), and I probably shouldnt identify as closely as I do with Tom Waits and Charles Bukowski.

My brain has stopped working, by which I mean that I havent actually thought about anything in weeks. Well, I also mean that I cant remember anything anymore every night blurs into the next, and I keep hearing tales about things I dont remember. Hell, I keep meeting people that remember me, though I could swear Ive never seen them before. But my brain isnt doing any work, and thats twisted. Ive savagely wounded it, and it needs to recover. I found an old menu that I wrote, and was surprised by some of the dishes Id come up with. I havent thought that way in a long time, and thats just no damn good at all.

Im here for a Reason a Purpose. And that Purpose has nothing to do with whiskey. It has to do with food, and learning. Todays pretty much shot, but tomorrow I go find a job cooking somewhere. That is why Im here for that reason and no other.

I have to turn the corner, flip the switch. Theres a trigger in my brain somewhere that I have to find and pull, and get myself into the mindset that Im no longer a successful Internet kid with cash coming out my ears Im basically, now, a poor college student. I have to start living like one and more importantly, I have to start spending like one. This is asinine.

I have to start coming home after school instead of going to the pub. I have to start cooking at home instead of eating every meal out.

Im Smarter Than This. I Know Better.

How the fuck did I let myself get so caught up in the throes of alcoholism, anyway? What a fucking moron I am. I can remember when I used to drink 3-4 drinks a night at most, and that was good with me have my drinks, pay my tab, tip my bartender, and go home.

But Im climbing out of this hole, starting today. Im not saying Im going to stop drinking completely, but no more of this wild, out-of-control, spend-130-a-night shit. Its just Fucking Ridiculous. Major Change is on the wind.


I suppose its the absolute height of hypocrisy for me to be upset with someone because of their proclivity towards overindulgence, but thats the state Im in. I was supposed to go to dinner with a girl from school tonight. We were set to meet at the pub down the street from the school after classes (hers, not mine I was off today), so I headed down there around the time I knew people would be getting out.

Now, when she and I decided to go to dinner together, I really didnt think much of it we were talking about my favourite restaurant, and, since shes a food person (obviously, or she wouldnt be in culinary school, right?), it didnt seem remarkable at all to me that she asked me to take her down there. Of course, I agreed to do so, and made reservations for us.

However, apparently word got around school that she and I were going to dinner together, and people seemed to think quite a bit more of it than I did, which sort of surprised me. Now, granted, shes quite attractive, and theres a lot of bullshit talk among some of the guys (locker room stuff, you know) about who was going to get in her pants first. Now, me, I dont go in for that sort of talk, as I find it not a little bit immature, and equally as pointless, but there was a lot of surprise in the guys locker room this week about this upcoming dinner thing . At any rate, though, I still didnt think all that much of it, as I simply wasnt thinking that way about the thing at all.

But when I did actually start thinking something was going on was when, this afternoon in the pub, her Flatmate turned to me and asked, Hey are you taking XXXX out tonight?

Uh yeah, were going to dinner.

Where are you guys going?

My favourite restaurant in the world, St. John.

So I thought to myself, Hrmm if the Flatmate is asking now, whos talking about all this? Then, a few minutes later, she turns to someone else that was nearby, Hey, hes taking XXXX out to dinner at St John tonight!

So now Im starting to catch the idea that this might be a more significant event than I thought it was. What really capped it was the Flatmate continuing to talk about it with other people (she was wasted, which figures into this whole thing in a bit), and the fact that I realized that XXXX went 30 minutes home to change clothes before coming 30 minutes back to meet up at the pub. Incidentally, she came back looking fantastic.

Ah, but this was when things started getting ugly. See, the Flatmate is a small person that likes to drink too much but cant handle her drink. To compound this, apparently there was a guy there from school who she had had some kind of tryst with, but who was now paying her no attention, as he was paying attention to another girl instead. She ended up so spannered that one of the chef instructors from school was telling me and XXXX to make sure she got home alright (she really was incapable of making it home safely alone, I think). So we were trying to get her into a cab, but she refused to leave and wanted more to drink, and all that other crap. Then of course it became a Thing between she and XXXX that we were going out to dinner and the guy she liked was talking to someone else and it wasnt fair and all that garbage. Next thing you know, shes bawling and wailing and damn near in hysterics. Like I said: ugly.

Id already called the restaurant and told them we were going to be a bit late as we had decided to take the Flatmate back to the flat to get her home safely, then catch the tube back to the restaurant, but she got so out of hand, XXXX just decided itd be better to reschedule the whole damn thing, so I waited a few minutes after they left chatting with the fellas that were still there, and rolled on, myself.

Now, I wasnt (and am still not) upset with XXXX she did the right thing, taking care of her Flatmate, which I cant argue with. Im pretty peeved at the Flatmate, though. Ho, ho, and there comes the hypocrisy. Me, being pissed at someone for getting too drunk.

In the end, called a friend who met me over there and had a great meal, nice conversation but it just wasnt the same.


4am and I cant sleep. Originally packed it in around 1, but Ive been wide awake for about 45 minutes now. Figures, as I didnt get drunk before going to bed 4 beers and a shot of whiskey spread across 7 hours and topped off with a big meal just doesnt do it, you know. Still, thats going to be the absolute upper end of my limit now. Really, Id like to keep it down to like 2 beers and a shot at most per night, and hopefully not even drink every night, but Im trying to be realistic.

Still aggravated about the dinner fiasco. Not sure why, I just am. I really dont even know the girl. I think the only conversation Ive actually had with her, aside from trying to figure out if we were going to make dinner or not last night, was the one in which I was telling her about the restaurant and we decided to go in the first place, and I was doing all the talking. One of the guys at school was telling me that shes got a really sharp mind I think that may be part of it, that someone as pretty as she is was described to me as being really smart, I got a bit intrigued. I love smart people.

Dont really want to drag into this place Im planning on hitting up for a job after having no sleep and looking like I should be on Skid Row instead of in a kitchen. I guess Ill shave and wear clean clothes at least thatll be something. Cool place, this; its called the House. The chef earned a Michelin star when he was head chef at Quo Vadis, in SoHo, then got burned out on the Michelin rat-race and headed to this pub, which is owned by a guy thats worked with other absolutely top-quality chefs. Its supposed to be a real quality joint. Im going to go in and have a little lunch and beg for a job. Dignity be damned, I need work; as much for keeping myself out of the bottom of a bottle as to make money (but money would be nice, too) not to mention the experience and education of cooking for a Michelin-star chef. Nice stuff, indeed. Ive read some of their recipes in a pub cookbook that I have, and its nice-sounding stuff.

By the way, Ive been writing this in shifts (should be fairly obvious) over the course of the last several hours, and by the time I get to a net caf with my laptop to post it, itll be 24+ hours since I began it so if youre trying to figure out the timeline of some of this stuff, take that into account.



Well, the chef was too busy to talk today, but I'll give it another shot later.