"First you take your ham and slather it with a nice, thick layer of delusion..."

It's approximately 6:50pm on a Tuesday and Rachel Ray is in the background squawking at me like a chicken with a half a pack a day habit about how to cook something with something and something sauce. I'm not really sure because I spent the whole time envisioning a whole chicken running away from her screaming "You're one of us!" while throwing onions at her and trying to shank her with a carrot. He will lose, but it will be one hell of a delicious battle.

But I digress. I'm obsessed. Not with her. I find her infuriating. I only watch her show because I'm not willing to give up 30 solid minutes of staring at food just because she has an unfortunate face/voice/body situation, but I do make it a point to put her on mute so I still win*smug smile*. No, I'm obsessed with the food network. I watch it more than I read smutty gossip blogs and that is saying something because that's pretty much what I do all at day work - and I don't work for a gossip blog.

So anyways, here I am, watching Rachel Ray while she pecks relentlessly at my eye balls, when it hits me. I could do that, nay, I SHOULD do that. What's "that" you ask? Why, only follow and accomplish, beyond successfully, my childhood dream, that's what!

See, many, many, many years ago when I was just a shy little girl with a vivid imagation and bouts of hyperactivity, I spent a lot of time playing alone. And that meant that I had a lot of time to start nurturing the portion of  the brain that sprouts giant stalks of crazy. Of the many ventures I embarked on - all in my brain, of course - one of my most favorites was hosting a cooking show in our kitchen. *Side bar - I have also been a teacher (even imaginary students are assholes), novelist (true story. I actually wrote 13 pages before my self diagnosed ADD intervened), and celebrated actress (I have won more Academy Awards than probable - I still win, at least once, if not twice, every year)*

Now, what exactly did I teach my aodring and eager audience (flour & sugar tins and probably a small plant)? Ham and cheese roll ups. With Mayo. No bread, though, because this was the after school snack episode. Yes, my foray into the culinary world of fake television began with walking my viewers, step by painstaking step, through the process of taking slices of ham and cheese (whatever you happen to have on hand!), adding a layer of mayo and then rolling it up. And repeat. Nom. Fucking. Nom.

I'm like the Giada DeLaurentiis of deli meats and processed cheese. Someone call the Food Network, STAT, and tell them to pink slip all their current chefs, because their services are no longer needed.