musings of a lowly foodrunner

Hi guys! Just wanted to share some anecdotes from my adventures in unskilled labor (and first paying job).

First off, general reflection: I LOVE WORKING. Of course, I realize my situation is a little artificial. I’m not working to pay the rent or put food on the table. But being out of the house, having responsibilities to fulfil and customers to please, even driving home late at night – it all adds up to a measure of independence and accountability that I find new/challenging/fun.

I like that my job is not glamorous. I’m quite literally at the bottom of the food chain: I bus food from the basement kitchen to the lounge upstairs. That’s half the job; the other half is about never standing still, essentially doing anything I can to help the chefs below and waitresses above. I try to do as much as possible, and it’s not really self-serving, because no matter what I’m still taking home minimum wage when the night is over. I like that a lot. It’s a far, far cry from what I’ve done in summers past, which – I’ll be honest – was about getting myself ahead. Many of you have inquired, so I’ll tell you: summer ‘08: family followed Lulu’s orchestra on tour in Europe; started learning chemistry and physics so my school would let me take them concurrently as a sophomore; tennis camp. ‘09: Russia and Sicily with the family; went to summer school (by choice!) to finish my requirements early so I could take a military history elective in the fall. ‘10: Germany and southern France with the family; interned at a psychiatric genetics lab in Boston for the rest of the summer.

with our awesome cousins in berlin.

Summer ‘11 is definitely a learning experience too, just of a different kind.

Okay. Now, purely for fun, I want to sketch a recent encounter that has to do with (!!) parenting as well...

Last Friday night.

It was a slow evening in the restaurant, so when we got a reservation for a party of 26, we eagerly accepted. We should have known better: their first question was, “is this place like Chili’s?” No, not really. The burgers here have a hint of Picasso. Desserts are evocative of the Guggenheim Bilbao. They showed up anyways; the group turned out to be some kind of elite, 16-year-old travel baseball team...plus an entourage of overprotective helicopter moms. You could picture them sauntering onto the field while the dads struggled behind like pack mules under duffel bags of gear. Right from the get go, they made a huge fuss about everything. All hell broke loose when I brought out the burgers. “I don’t like cheese.” “This relish is gross.” “I have a gluten allergy,  take away the bun or I’ll die.” YOU’RE A TEENAGE BOY, EAT WHAT’S PUT IN FRONT OF YOU. Maybe that’s too callous. At least tell us you need it prepared with sterilized tongs and a string quartet before we cook it! Whatever you do, don’t take it out on the servers. A furious, blonde mom in capris almost had the waitress in tears. “My boy played a VERY STRESSFUL GAME today and he’s been waiting 45 MINUTES for his pizza!” She threatened to “post horrible reviews of this place online” and told me to can it when I apologized for the late pizza. I overheard the boys say they were considering Yale. Well, I hate to break it to you. You can be the best shortstop in New England, but you can’t walk into college with your mommy holding your hand. I like to think this is where tiger cubs have a slight advantage. We are not pampered, so we learn to solve our own problems No hard feelings, though. When the Yale coach comes courting, I hope for your own sake you’ll man up and eat the relish.

On that note, I’m psyched to be a Yankees diehard in Boston next year. I am ready, nay, super-pumped to be pelted with trash by belligerent fans at Fenway.

So that was a little Q&A, family history, and ranting mixed in. Anybody working in the restaurant industry with customer horror stories? Or work stories in general? How about advice for good college jobs? Leave me a comment :)

Out and About (fangirl 2.0?)

Quick post here, mainly photos. The tigers have been lying low this summer, regaining a bit of normalcy -- my parents are both working on academic books, Lulu's playing lots of tennis, I'm reading, playing Prokofiev, and working at a restaurant downtown (if you're in New Haven, come to 116 Crown!). As a family, we're finally getting the chance to have home-cooked meals, catch up with friends, watch movies...it's great. I almost feel like nothing in my life has changed.

Except oh, yeah -- we met Lucy Liu last night. And talked to her. In Chinese! She and my mom actually look uncannily similar, and she was really nice to us. (She said she didn't have tiger parents, and kind of wished she had. On my end, I'm just becoming more and more convinced that all the most intriguing and successful people are self-made. Just my luck...) The event was a special screening of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan.

We actually high-jacked friend and architect Alexander Gorlin's studio for hair and makeup. First time I've read a Frank Lloyd Wright pop-up book while having my hair straightened. And yes, I borrowed Lulu's Time 100 dress for this. She's wearing my shoes. The three of us share (or fight over) clothes all the time at home.

Proof of non-celebrity status: walking onto the red carpet with an LG EnV touch in one hand, and camera in the other. Class right there.

We briefly met Nicole Kidman -- it was kind of funny, I think her hip and my mom's neck were roughly the same height -- and Keith Urban, which was surreal because I had been listening to "Better Life" on the drive up to the city. I think the coolest person we got to talk to, though, was Gabourey Sibide. I still can't believe this happened: emboldened by the open bar, my mom and I somehow cornered her and ended up pouring out our life story. And then I dropped my chopsticks onto her lap. I almost had a complete meltdown, but she said, "it's okay -- I'm just a girl sitting on a couch eating lobster." Anyways, I was already in awe of her confidence and talent. And now I find out she's incredibly kind as well :)

I actually have to run to work now. I think I owe you guys more Q&As right now! Keep the questions coming in the comments. And if you feel like it, you can vote TEAM TIGER CUB in this top bloggers thing I was nominated for. Or don't, that's cool too :)

Q&A: july edition

Hey guys! Here's your latest q+a. Leave comments -- I want to hear more of your questions, and also your predictions for my upcoming college life! Anyways, enjoy...

If you give me some words of wisdom, I'm going to type it up and tape it in my locker in high school! - Chloe

"Crazy beats predictable, but do your homework first" – my loose paraphrasing of Sun Tzu’s Art of War

Seriously? Ganja pizza? Do you know what ganja is?

No, I live under a rock.

Do you have any study tips?

Just be honest with yourself. Study as much or as little as you want, but if you do a lousy job on something, don’t tell yourself you tried your best – it will make you underestimate what you’re really capable of.

What do you suggest for those of us who don't have a tiger mom, but...based on the apparent outcome..want a tiger parent? How can I get more disciplined without a tiger mother?

The key word there is "apparent." But okay, here’s my somewhat weird advice: go running every day. Even when it’s humid or raining or you are really busy. I’m not naturally fast or strong; running is by far my biggest source of self-discipline, and it helps in other aspects of my life. I ran a half-marathon this spring – it was really stupid of me, actually, I did it spontaneously between my morning and afternoon physics classes with no training – and since then, whenever I’m tempted to quit something, I tell myself, "Stop whining. You’ve done something infinitely more painful."

What is/are your favorite book(s)? What are you reading right now?

This will require its own post in the near future. For now: I love Hemingway. Of his works, my two favorites are A Moveable Feast and The Garden of Eden (I don’t care what people say about this one, I find it hypnotic). For best results, read A Moveable Feast and Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby at the same time. Right now, I’m in the middle of Kissinger’s new book, On China, and I just started War and Peace.


Why didn't your mom allow you to be in school plays?

She actually did allow me to be in one school play in preschool. I was a frog (it was a non-speaking part). I missed my cue and ended up disrupting the fairy dance, and all the other moms and dads gave my parents dirty looks. Since then, she’s just been protecting me from my natural lack of talent.

Why did you not apply to Princeton or Stanford? Why did you apply to UVA instead?

Have you seen the Princeton and Stanford applications? You have to write a dozen essays and jump through flaming hula-hoops just to make the first cut. It’s like hazing. As a rule, I try not to devote huge amounts of energy to becoming accepted. I’m a bit iffy on the whole college application process, but that’s a topic for another post. I picked UVA because it seemed like a really vibrant place, and I like the South. I think I’m one of 4 people in Connecticut who listens to country music. [edit: sorry, I realize this is a little unclear. I will not be attending UVA; I'll be at Harvard this fall.]

What are your views on corporal punishment?

I don’t have any personal experience to draw on, but I will say this: I think people tend to jump to conclusions and lump a wide spectrum of parenting philosophies together. Of course, there are dangerous extremes. But to call a spanking – or a two-hour piano practice session, for that matter – child abuse is insulting and dangerous to real victims of family violence. I think that’s my biggest issue with the uproar over my mom’s book. Sure, my parents were tough on me, but I grew up in a privileged and incredibly loving home. Vilifying the tiger mom is a way to sweep true child abuse under the rug. We don’t want to face the real problem, so we look for scapegoats instead.

What do you do when you get tired of studying? Did you really not watch TV at all? Do you really not hang out with friends?

FOR THE LAST TIME. I HAVE NO FRIENDS. NOT A SINGLE ONE. And what’s a "TV?" Does that stand for something? Forget this, I have to go take a physics test.