Saturday, January 14, 2006

Tales from the Back

I don't have a lot of brain cells to rub together right now . . . last night C and the Kid dropped me off at B's house on their way to see C's family (they'll have Christmas again, with the Kid, tonight). B and I watched some college hockey and ate some of the train wreck cake (the one from my exam where I screwed up the glaze--it's been in the freezer, and it was still pretty good) and then watched the HBO Lewis Black special, which was extremely funny. I'd been practically falling asleep on B's couch, and that woke me up, but then I really had to go, and he was nice enough to drive me all the way home. Tonight I'm meeting him at this place on the west side where he plays hockey to watch him play and then drink beer with him and, presumably, some of his teammates. I'm planning on some yoga tomorrow, but whether I make it to the 9:00 class or the 12:15 class depends on the aforementioned beer-drinking outing. Luckily, I managed a nap this afternoon after I got home from work. I got out of work just early enough for said nap, but not early enough to catch a train to C's family's house and not early enough to play handball.

Not much was happening around the bakery, really. Saturday is kind of Cake Day, given the number of cakes people want for various birthday and other parties on weekends. Brian showed me how to set up the cakes, he put a first layer of frosting and piping on them, and then Ashley the Cake Lady finished them. If I get any better at the piping stuff I could presumably do some of what Brian was doing, as well, but I was content to do the setup work today. He seems like a nice enough guy, and he was a little chattier today, so I got some scoop on various issues. One of the youngish black women who works in the front of the store during the week calls him "Red," short for "Redneck," which she claims he is. I can't tell whether that's true, or even exactly what she means by that--she's pretty entertaining, except for her insistence that I smile, which is well and truly driving me batshit. She means well, and it's a small place, so I really can't give my standard answer to that ("Fuck off and die") without causing a good deal of trouble. I'll have to figure out a way to jolly her out of it, I suppose, though that annoys me, too.

Johnny was putting together a huge cake today--a full, filled sheet cake, i.e., two full sheet pans of cake with filling between them. Obviously, there's a party tonight, for two of his nieces, apparently, who are three years old. By the size of the cake, there will be a huge household of people somewhere. It seems a little over the top for three-year-olds, but I know how that goes. Employees get a discount on the cakes, I think--20% maybe?--so it makes sense that he'd be the one bringing the cake.

I put in a uniform order this week, too (to the tune of $120, so I do hope I'm getting paid): a few more pairs of pants and some jackets, the latter of which will have the bakery's logo and my name on them, which is pretty entertaining. The quality isn't as good as the stuff we got for school, but this way I'll have enough clothing to get through the week without doing laundry in the middle. The day the manager (Brad) was doing the ordering, we were looking at the jackets (which all have to be gotten from the same source, because there's only one place that has their logo on file), and I told him I probably need a small, maybe even an extra-small. He's saying no, I probably want a medium like he gets, I want some room to move around, etc. I knew better, but I said, well, okay, take off your jacket, and (probably to the amazement of the coworkers) I started to take off mine. I wear a heavy white t-shirt under it (I got a bunch from L. L. Bean for school), but they probably didn't know that. So I put on his jacket, and, of course, it swims on me.

As I told him today--because he ordered me size medium pants, too, which I'm sure are going to be WAY too big, even though I told him I wanted smalls--I'm smaller than I look. This is especially true since I lost weight last year, but it's always been the case that people don't do a good job judging my size. I'm pretty strong, and, as my yoga teacher pointed out, I'm solidly built, but I'm really not big. I always FELT big, mind you, in part because my sister was so small, relatively speaking; she was my height, more or less, but willowy, plus she was a dancer and a gymnast, and therefore flexible. I always felt square and sort of lumpy and blockish next to her, and, since we were so close in age and grew up together, that was my main point of comparison. I should probably say something insightful about body image here, but I'm mostly thinking that I need to eat something and take a shower and so on and thus need to get moving. Insight on body sizes will have to wait for another day.


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