Le Cordon Bleu does not discriminate against cooking rookies. If someone filed a lawsuit against them, that person would lose. Le Cordon Bleu could probably turn around and sue the suer for falsely suing. Le Cordon Bleu has the nicest admission guy in the history of nice admission guys. Do you think he wrote LOL beside my appointment time after we spoke on the phone? No. Do you think he rolled on the floor laughing when I walked in for our appointment yesterday? No. Instead, he embraced my existence even though he was confused. I’m pretty sure this guy doesn’t get confused often. He’s an important, smart admissions guy that’s pursuing his MBA. Most people pursue a degree from Le Cordon Bleu because they want to be a successful chef in a fancy restaurant. When I told him I’m a writer that never really cooked until two weeks ago, um, his facial expression told me he’s confused.
After a few hours, it was as though we were lifelong friends. I have a feeling he would add me as his facebook friend if he had time to log on to facebook. This is how I feel, so it must be true. He showed me around the school, briefly stopping by many different classrooms. This is when a slow motion moment of twitter friendship came to life. Sitting at a computer in one of the rooms was none other than Joe the Baker. I’m pretty sure Joe the Baker was frightened when I said, “Joe the Baker????” It was really gross when I said, “It’s me, Almost Veggies— from twitter!” I’m not sure why I continue to act like a twitter person is my best friend when we meet. Just because we interact on twitter does not mean anyone wants to hug me. Note to self: Do not hug people from twitter. This is weird.
After grossing the admissions guy and Joe the Baker out, we went back into his office to finish the admissions process. I did not lie on my application. There are questions they didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell. Just like the Army. There wasn’t a question that asked, “Do you burn cheese toast all the time?” or “Is last week the first time you purchased flour?” or “Did you spastically grate your thumb instead of cheddar cheese last night?”
The only thing I’m worried about is butchering a pig. This is going to be really sad. When the instructor tells me to butcher a pig, then I’m going to butcher a pig. While butchering a pig, I’m going to place a plate of onions beside the pig. No one will laugh at me for crying. The other students will think the onions are causing tears. That’s what onions do. They make people cry uncontrollably. This is a solid plan during all butchering of pigs. I will not look at the pig’s floppy ears. I will not think of my favorite childhood book — Charlotte’s Web. All of this will be repressed.
Tomorrow is going to be the most exciting day of my life. I’m going to be fitted for my cheffing uniform, which includes a chef coat. That’s right. I’m going to have a Kleenex in my pocket when this happens. I will have a ponytail holder in the other pocket. I will probably sleep in my chef coat for 6 days. My husband will call his mother to ask her advice on how to get me to stop wearing my chef coat at home. He will add extra insurance to make sure all costs of chef coat therapy are covered. This challenging chapter of my life is welcome. I’m not going to give up, no matter how hard it gets. In the end, hopefully people will believe anything is possible.
My plan is to be a real deal food writer. The kind that knows it all. 🙂
Exactly! Class starts on the 18th. I’m going to write about each class. Should be interesting and very scary. P.S. JTB didn’t hug me. I was so spastic when I met him that it was really worse than a stranger hug.