Confession #3

A couple years ago when I lived in an apartment by myself, I remember a time when I was really afraid of my neighbors knocking on my door at the most inopportune moment. I feared that they would call the cops and I would get locked up or get placed on a psych hold. This all started because I needed to repack my kit and sharpen all my knifes, because as someone once put it, they were dull as those plastic pre-k scissors. So, I started by organizing my kit. I had my kit completely scattered all over my living room floor and then I got distracted and thought I should sharpen all my knifes before packing my kit. I had an electric sharpener, which is really loud. So I'm sharpening my knives and then I hear footsteps outside my door. I ran to the peephole hoping that it wasn't a disgruntled neighbor.. and then I realized that not only do I have a knife in my hand, I also have my kit spread out over the entire living room which includes: trash bags, gloves, duct tape, masking tape, metal skewers, wooden picks, glue of all kinds, xacto knifes, propane torch, butane torch, paper towels, dish rags, an electric charcoal starter, a heat gun... and pretty much everything that makes me look like an assassin! Lucky for me it was just a delivery guy going to the apartment next door. But, confession: my job makes me look like a serial killer

Confession #2

I sometimes have these moments, where I actually double-over because my stomach hurts from laughing so hard at myself. Unfortunately, and possibly fortunately for this confession there's no photographic evidence.

One Saturday night I was packing up for a job I had on Monday morning. It was an out of town job requiring me to drive on Sunday, so all the packing and shopping had to happened on Saturday night. My boyfriend was out of town, so I was all by myself. I went through the motions, I purchased all the food and I was in the process of separating it to store it properly. I had a bunch of fresh string beans, and by a bunch I mean 3lbs. I washed them and I needed to get the moisture off of them, so I spread them out on some sheet trays. I started by blotting them with some paper towels, but it wasn't doing the trick. So I turned on my ceiling fan, thinking that might work... but it didn't. Then it dawned on me, why not try my hair dryer... so I start blow drying the beans.

In this moment, I remember looking at the clock and being over come with... "oh dear God, it's 9 pm on a Saturday night, I'm in my early 30s and I'm at home blow drying string beans. This is my life...", I couldn't stop laughing. In the middle of the laughter, I felt the need to try and capture the ridiculousness, so I attempted to take a selfie. After multiple tries, I couldn't get me and the beans in the shot, which made me laugh even more. Just imagine how ridiculous I looked repeatedly taking a selfie with a hair dryer and bunch of string beans...oh to be a fly on the wall. I guess I can equate this moment to when I was younger playing at a friend's house and we threw hula hoop in the air and it got stuck in a tree. So we of course thew another thing, I think it was a skateboard, up in the tree to try and knock the hula hoop down, but the skateboard got stuck in the tree too. We ended up with 5 plus random objects stuck in the tree, and laughing so hard we were crying. I think the phrase that explains this confession best is "compounding hilarity".



Confession #1

So I am food stylist. I make food look great, that is what I do. I read another food stylist bio once and she said she "is a makeup artist for the hamburger", (brilliant right?!) I wish I came up with that line. As far as I can remember I have forever been a food nerd. Even in elementary school we used to have a book mobile. It was a bus that was converted to a library that came to our school, and each class got to go out and pick out books once a month. So my friends and my sister would pick out Nancy Drew, Ameila Badelia, The Babysitters Club, or anything normal... and I would pick out cookbooks. Every time. To the point where I think my parents and teachers thought I had a learning disability because I really didn't read the books I would just look at the pictures and go on and on about how good the food looked. I was an odd child, what can I say. However, I think that making food that looks good has always been in my head, I just never even realized that it is a career.

So here I am a food stylist, which brings me great joy. I get to do what I love but sometimes I question my sanity, along with others. Like when I have shop for items for a shoot and the client wants me to bring options of different ketchup's (because not all ketchup's are the same color, in case you didn't know). So once I had 5 different bottles of ketchup along with about $200 of produce (do you know what $200 dollars of produce looks like?? that is a lot of $%^&ing produce). The cashier proceeded to give me the look of... where is your keeper, they must have lost you. But instead they tried to make small talk by questioning me with "you must really like fruit... and ketchup?", to which I quickly responded with, "oh this is for a photoshoot". But in my mind I really wished I was more quick witted and could've responded with, "oh I do love produce, and so does my pet bunny.. I'm having a birthday party for her! You should come! Oh and the ketchup if for me, I just really love ketchup it's my favorite!" Confession, I'm starting to keep a mental list of good responses like these.