Too Spicy

I entered a chili cookoff yesterday. I finished second. There were only three chilis there.

It was at the Perkin's house in Lafayette, CO. There were supposed to be six chilis there, but three people flaked on making chili. What a bunch of lazy ass holes. It's not hard to make chili. Just throw some meat, beer, onions, peppers, canned tomatoes and water into a big pot. Add some spices and lots of chili powder and there ya go- chili. That is of course not how I make chili, but not everyone is willing to spend six hours on the task.

I had the contest in the bag despite the stupid scoring system, and then two late-comers arrived at the party. I forget the guys name, but under the taste category- he scored my chili a one out of ten because it was too spicy for him to taste at all. What a pussy. I lost the contest by 2 points. 188 to 186.

My chili was the shit. The winner even announced upon accepting his prize that mine was the best chili. Whatever, he didn't have anybody ask him how he made his chili. Even his wife asked for second and third helpings of mine. I was simply deducted by numerous people for being too spicy- even after they all said that mine was clearly the best. I'm done now- except to say that this batch was the best chili that I have ever made. I continue to get better. I think that I am ready for a real competition.

The L button on my laptop is failing. How frustrating.

I am flying to Portland this Friday. My first time back since leaving last July. I can't explain how much I am looking forward to this visit. I really miss that city. I am going to the Oregon game with Zack and Richard on Saturday. It is an annual thing for us, and I am excited not to miss this year due to geographic obstacles. Priorities are important.

It will be very strange to see my house, and even more strange to not be sleeping there.

I started working at a second brewery last week. The Walnut Brewery in downtown Boulder. What a kick ass place! I love that downtown. I love that bar. I love my new boss. I will be splitting time between the Denver Chophouse and the Walnut. I totally dig this situation. It is fun to go to a different place for work. Mix it up a bit. Plus- the Perkin's house is on my way home. I have already crashed Perkin's family dinner once. I love that place. I love that family.

My new work situation will almost double my income- bringing me slightly above the poverty line. Woo-hoo! My boss decided to just give me the max pay for an assistant brewer at Rock Bottom. He said that I probably won't be working any harder in order to get little pay raises. He is correct. He said that he believes that I work hard because I want to be a brewmaster. He is correct again. Things are looking real good on the brewmaster carreer path.

I am enjoying my job and the potential for this to be a career so much that I have even relaxed my already fluid plans to move forward on the cruising sebatical in a year. I really lucked into this brewing situation, and I am going to make the most of it. The senior brewer for Rock Bottom is named Scott. Scott runs the Westminster brewery. Whomever is currently training under Scott will be the next Brewmaster. The other day my boss was talking to me and he mentioned Scott. During the conversation he very casually slipped in the phrase "Scott is who you will be working for soon". I can't expain how excited I got.

Man I can't wait to start making some money. This living on minimum wage thing is shit. I am freaking poor. Heather makes good money, but it's not enough to make up for what I am making. If somebody would buy my stupid sailboat, then our troubles would be over. Until that happens I will remain cash poor. I miss going out to bars and restaraunts. I am tired of my cooking.

Despite my financial difficulties, I have not been this happy in a long time. I have never in my life been excited about my job before. My bosses love me. I doubt that they have ever had an assistant tackle their menial work with such enthusiasm and care. I mean, cleaning brewery equipment is not fun work- and most people just do what they have to. I leave that shit sparkling. When I reach my alloted hours, I clock out and then continue working. It might sound crazy, but it actually makes me happy.

Sunday chores await. Now I am done.