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Getting Started

Well, I've started a new adventure. It's far too soon to know if it will be a success or not, but I'm eager to do all I can in order to see it become one.  I'm the new Pinup Chef of Denver!  Not only am I staring in my own web series (complete with a producer, director, editor, camera man and audio technician as well as sponsorship from so be sure to check them out!), but I'm also a studio chef teaching my recipes in front of an actual participating audience.  It's really exciting for me!  The first three episodes have already been filmed, and the first one is already live.  I'm soooo excited!

Of course the audio needed work in the pilot episode.  That's when we got the audio engineer for the following two episodes. 

I have a new blog!!!  Just started it, actually.  You should check it out.

Chambers of the Heart

Chambers of the Heart

How long does it normally take
For one poor heart to finish breaking?
While the events may set things in motion in minutes,
The pain may last a lifetime. 
Like a peeling pomegranate,
Each chamber is filled with delicate jewels,
Each fragile, each only a pin prick away from bleeding. 
Is it better to leave the thick skin over the surface
And to protect the fragile inside?
Or is it better to open the skin
With the piercing of a knife,
score the surface,
Rip open the bleeding fruit
And consume the very seeds of life within?
Once they're gone, each expiring in its own way,
Gnashed apart by biting teeth and words of hate,
 What remains but the empty shell?
The last seed,
Bitten, bleeding,
Consumed by someone else.

Saltines for Isobel.

Each cracker was carefully inspected before she gingerly placed the corner into her mouth and bit down with enough force to snap it off, but softly enough to not make a sound. After each bite she would lick the salt off of her parched lips. It had been too long since she had known what a real meal felt like in her stomach. The fifth cracker was the last, and Isobel carefully wrapped the remaining morsels back into their crinkling plastic sleeve, tied off with the wide, flat, bright red twist tie. She hated saltines. She always had, but her desperate dislike and taken a life of its own since she'd come face to face with the real possibility of starvation. She was hungry, but she was young enough to still possess the will power she needed to survive. Five crackers is all she would allow herself at each meal, accompanied only by a bottle of water. It was of course tap water in the bottle, but she couldn't afford a glass to drink from so she had "repurposed" someone else's trash by cleaning it thoroughly. Some days she was even lucky enough to have chess to the freezer at work and she would enjoy somewhat chilled water when the hunger pranks were the worst. Desperate for both the Monet required for food and for a way to occupy her time instead of thinking about food, Isabel found herself volunteering for the thirteen and fourteen hour shifts at the call center amid wild corruption, stressful work material, sexual harassment and bizarre slander. About the time she didn't think she could take it anymore, something would shift. Sometimes better, sometimes worse, but always different. Life was beginning to get the better of isobel but she refused to let it beat her completely. She thought to herself that life was very m cig like those saltine crackers: she might not have been happy with what she had to eat, but at least there was something to eat.