Tales from Cheffing Around
The halls outside the audition rooms at USC’s Thornton School of Music were teeming with anxious parents. The fetid fusion of skittish pre-teen breath, college musicians’ armpits, and floral lotion-smeared moms burned my eyes. I paced the vinyl floor, squinting in the fluorescent lighting, trying …
I never intended to be a cook. It was a secret passion. “Cooking” was listed as a special skill on my acting resume, along with ”accents” (a couple), “skiing” (a winter when I was younger), and “fencing” (I took a class for one week at …
Francis and I were moving into an apartment with such a thick smog of dust motes that you couldn’t differentiate the ceiling from the walls or floors. It was the sort of impossible, unexplainable sphere of filth that only exists in dreams. There was …
The halls outside the audition rooms at USC’s Thornton School of Music were teeming with anxious parents. The fetid fusion of skittish pre-teen breath, college musicians’ armpits, and floral lotion-smeared moms burned my eyes. I paced the vinyl floor, squinting in the fluorescent lighting, trying …