I got it.

I want to be a pastry chef.

A link this morning led me to a list of less stressful careers (swearing that I would fire off a nasty letter if “K-12 teacher” was on it), and saw the description of pastry chef. Just me, sugar, cinnamon, butter and creativity. Now that sounds like a job, friends.

I mean, I love to bake. I love to be creative. Here’s me, getting up at 3 a.m. and going to the restaurant. I’m by myself…everything’s quiet…nice and warm and cozy. I put on some Debussy, Poulenc or Fauré (just to get all Frenchy-Frenchy), and by 8 a.m., I’m surrounded by eclairs, tarts, petit fours, croissants. Then I go home and take a nap. Er, I mean, work out.

*sigh*

Maybe in another life.

What was/is your dream job? Did you ever think about going for it? I mean, I love teaching, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, the stress of it makes me want to jump off a bridge. Maybe you’re already living your dream, and for that I say a big congrats to you.

And a “dream job” isn’t relaxing on a yacht all day. That isn’t a job, and I doubt I could live very long that way anyhow…it’s just how I’m built. But what would you do if you *really* had the choice of careers? I covet your responses.

Fink out.

Well, not actually *my* birthday. RtB is one years old.

On 22 February 2008, I started what has become a true labor of love. That phrase is overused, I know, but it’s totally fitting. I’ve told friends that writing the blog post every day is like taking a shower or making the coffee or brushing teeth: I just do it as part of the daily routine. I think it’s made me a better writer; I know it’s made me a smarter person.

Best part, though? My RtB fiends — both those who post and those who don’t. You keep it interesting and fun.

Will I post every day from now on? I don’t know. Probably. This began in my brain as a one-year project, to see if I could generate any worthwhile discourse (that has happened in spades) and meet any cool people. On that score, I have reconnected with some old friends, and made several new ones. I’ve connected with my students on a level that is very different from what we have at school. All that makes the whole thing worth it.

On a global scale, my 190-some hits every day make RtB quite the small player. But I don’t mind. In a world where size seems to always matter, I’ll take the quality any day.

Three cheers for RtB fiends. I hope you’ll keep visiting; It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

RF, hearting you all.

What’s a girl to think?

So this morning, I hit the Reuters site, looking for some *good* news. Well, keep moving, folks. Nothin’ to see here.

President Obama sends more soldiers to Afghanistan. GM and Chrysler are closing plants and laying off workers, while asking for just a little more money.

Once again, Alan Greenspan brings up the big one. I remember my dad and grandmother talking about it like it was yesterday. Many of you who have parents or other relatives who survived the Great Depression know what I mean — strange behaviors like not being able to break the habit of pouring water on breakfast cereal instead of milk, or getting a storage container for exactly seven leftover green beans, or saving bacon fat to cook in later. There may be a huge case of “everything old is new again” on our horizon…

We’re finding out how incredibly easy it is to operate massive, ongoing frauds and Ponzi schemes with monolithic hubris — right under the nose of the Securities and Exchange Commission. Some folks are just ate up. I mean really.

Donald Trump’s casino business is going under. No surprise, given the economy the way it is, but man I love Atlantic City casinos. Actually, I love all casinos. As the RtB faithful already know, the Thriller and I save up money throughout the year to make a Christmas Day pilgrimage to Detroit to have some casino fun. You also then know that it didn’t happen this year because we used the money to buy the 56-inch television that now sits in the living room. (Actually, the TV is cool and I don’t mind at all.)

But a world without video poker…where is the hope, friend? What the heck?

OK, gimme some good news. That’s the challenge today. I covet your sunny-side thoughts.

FO

Random Neuron Firings

1. Hey, I said it before he did. Silly writers, copyin’ the Fink. So why isn’t the Times offering me a job? (Please, let me stew in my delusions for awhile, OK?)
2. Last night, the Thriller and I watched Iron Man on pay-per-view (I don’t think that’s what they call it anymore, but it’s all I can think of at the moment). I must say, Robert Downey is dreamy, even though I’m certain they enhanced his cute-boy looks with contact lenses with a large, dark iris, giving him a softer, more innocent appearance. They do that a lot, I’ll bet, because as naturally beautiful as many actors are, not all are born with huge, shiny, crawl-in-and-drown Bambi eyes. I want me some of those.
3. If I hear the word stimulus one more time, I am going to commit a felony. Then I’m going to ask to be bailed out.
4. Yikes. Robin Williams just ordered one of these. Ross, have you researched this one yet?
5. Why would you ever, ever, ever park your truck on the ice, especially with your kids in it?
6. How would you feel if the police told you they couldn’t intervene until the person stalking you did something more serious? Nice.
7. Regardless of your political affiliation, you should follow this series on Ted Kennedy.

And now, it is time to start my Sunday. I wish I weren’t feeling so lazy today…

FO

I hate many things.

I mean, really. Maybe it’s my mood this morning (as I said a couple of days ago, it’s not been the best week in memory), but I feel like ten miles of bad road — on the inside. I need me some fun, and I see none in my immediate future. I guess I’ll need to go make some. But until then, here is what frames my discontent:

1. I haven’t seen Lars and Helen for at least two weeks — and they live eight houses down the street from me. Life is too flippin’ busy.
2. Jake fell off the bed and fractured his collar bone (poor baby!), and I can’t get out to see him until tomorrow.
3. I have a delightful teacher inservice today. Ask me if I wouldn’t rather have a classroom full of sixth graders than a day full of activities planned by an administrator.
4. I hate pondering the all-encompassing domino effect of choices in one’s life. If you really think about it, it’s huge.
5. Dinner Theatre rehearsals are a full two weeks behind schedule.

However (and this is a big fat “but”), I try not to hate without a way out, to wit: a long, long time ago, someone had me write down all the negative feelings I could think of, and then go back through the list and devise a way around each one. Therefore, to that end:

1. On my way home from the basketball game tonight, I will call Helen and Lars. Set up a time for coffee this weekend.
2. After that call, I will call Hannah and see how Jakey’s doing.
3. In the big scheme of life, one day of inservice is not so bad. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually get something out of it (*SniCKeR*).
4. Resolve to make better choices today, because it could affect a whole slew of tomorrows.
5. Umm…

So, see? It’s not so bad, having plenty of stuff to hate. But you know, misery loves company, so let’s hear your hates. The Fink is here to help you deal with them. I covet your blatherings.

Off to the showers — and then to my own special version of Friday the 13th. Yippy!

RF