Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Oil Spill

I haven't blogged in awhile because I've been tripping balls and doing work (not in a good way)
School is getting insane, I have a thousand things (several of which I should be doing now) to do within this week and next week. An exam tomorrow, a quiz Thursday + work, a psych paper due Monday, a presentation & a test on Wednesday, and the Tuesday after is a final exam + several others. It's been like that.My body is always heavy, always begging for sleep even when my brain wants to go out. I got sick- I am sick, but it's the kind of sickness that is controlled by Ricolla berry cough drops and peppermint tea. I asked to leave work early today so that I could study for my anthropology exam that is tomorrow. I feel like it's getting crazy. Everything ran full speed to catch up to one another so that they could cram, squish, and pressurize together. I had a dream the other night that I was pregnant and then I had a dream that I had forgotten to write my psych paper and had a full-blown melt down. It's safe to say things are getting a little out of hand in the stress department. Okay, some good news? Okay, sounds good let's hear it.
Tomorrow I will spend the remainder of my day (after the exam) having a girls night for my close friend's belated birthday. No work, no tests, no nothing. Just relaxation and chick flicks. The other good news? I'm halfway done with my Christmas shopping and I did it all online...nearly all of it. It's so much easier and there's such a greater variety. everything has begun to show up at my front door and the others have been shipped. Woot! I need to go study. Burn the midnight oil.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

I Broke the Dawn


I've just come back from seeing Breaking Dawn and I have mixed emotions about this.
 Maybe I should just get out of the way that abouuut this time two years ago I was at my worst. And by "my worst" I mean I was a full-time, hardcore twihard. Yep. I was insane and completely obsessed with all things Twilight. I had Bella's ring (something my mother searched & found for me: an exact replica and not an inexpensive one at that...I lost it. :( ) I had the cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen that creepily loomed behind my bed, I had action figures, posters, cards, the jacket Kristen Stewart wears in the first movie, EVERYTHING. Embarrassing? Yes, absolutely,but I've heard the first step in recovery is admittance and acceptance. I was completely consumed and would lose my shit at the premiers- every ounce of my shit. Now, here's the thing: I'm no longer this way. I have changed, matured if you will, over the years. Do I like Twilight? Yes, I do. I like the romance, the drama, the reality mixed with mythical proportions. Do I go bananas crazy over it? No. Does my room look like a manic teenager on coke decorated it with her favorite vampire couple vomited all over the wall in mass media produced paraphernalia? No.
Anyways, now that you have the back story:
The movie was not my favorite ( as far as "favorite movie" and "Twilight" can go hand-in-hand) There were too many cheesy moments in this  one, too many over-scripted, forced lines with little reality behind them. Props to Kristen Stewart though. This girl has been voted most improved by yours truly. She was pretty great and I've always loved her,  but I think this was her best yet in the series. Of course, I love me some Robert Pattinson, but the direction this movie took and the corny lines and situations threw me off and sent my sister and I into laughing fits. Meanwhile, the women behind us were sobbing five minutes into the movie and saying "oh wow, OH WOW!" during the unimpressive and...uninspiring sex scene.
It was good in some ways and not so good in others. I like the score (as usual) it was by Carter Burwell who composed for the first movie. It was fitting and kept things moving despite some sticky character interactions. The chemistry between Robert and Kristen was super great, they are probably and more than likely a real item, but who cares. It was cool, I like me some Twilight and I'm glad my freaky freak days are over - at least the ones involving Twilight. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Gobble Gobble Midnight Pie

So basically, I'm baking a pie at midnight.
I have an 8am shift tomorrow morning which will lead me straight to my grandma's house for thanksgiving dinner/lunch. My mom has just finished hemming a skirt she handmade for me and now everyone is exhausted.
I found out that I actually do have an ounce of charm in my body. Screeching into the Albertson's parking lot at 10:55pm, I feared the worst. what the ______ am I going to do if this store is closed? I promised my grandma and bad-mouthed my least favorite (if favorite at all) aunt to make this pie. It had to be done. I ran to the doors which were blocked by shopping cart soldiers- probably the most distressing thing I'd experienced, and ran to the door tapping and waving my arms desperately. The store manager approached with an annoyed I-just-want-to-go-home expression and pried open the doors. Know who Puss in Boots is? Well, basically I did that big kitty eye thingy and begged him to let me in. It was a clear emergency and necessity for me to get a bottle of dark corn syrup, pecans, and crisco. EMERGENCY. He was sweet enough to let me in warning me that I could only pick out two or three things (i got four). Anyways, I ran through the store like the 1,000,000 customer winner and mad dashed to pick out my shit. Success! Now, I'm waiting for my pie to be ready. It smells like burning, gotta go rim the crust with foil now. HAPPY THANKSGIVING <3 <3

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

You Yell, I Yell, We All Fall Down

Tonight went to shit.

I had an awful night- the kind of night that nearly drove me to call up my friend and ask him to spare a few alcoholic beverages in my favor. It was the kind I wanted to numb away with anything and nothing at the same time.

I cried for the first time at work, bent over the toaster with unwanted tears fattening and bubbling over my weak eyelids. It was a woman. A woman who was sketchy from the start. She was needy and ordered very specifically "no this" and "no that" with a little of "add this instead". I charged her for the extra ingredients she requested, but upon receiving the bill , a wire in her head sparked, shorted, and flared, because this bitch flipped out. There I am standing, apologizing at first, but then realizing that she was wrong. Then, there I was explaining to her the err in her justification. We always charge for extra ingredients. Not so. After a few minutes of flipping the hell out, yelling, waving her hands, and scolding me (getting the attention of the entire floor) I skulked away to get my supervisor who talked sternly with her in front of everyone (Yes! I'm winning) ... only to be talked down by her, thus proving me wrong, and adjusting her check accordingly. Shit. She won. Meanwhile, what was she so upset about? Oh, an $.85 charge for spinach. (now I really hate you spinach) Yep. She threw a fit over less than a dollar. Funny, I wonder if she knows that there are some people somewhere who don't even have that much to complain about, because they're eating scraps and dealing with malnourishment. Hmmm. Anyways, the embarrassment led me to tears which led me to fucking up the rest of my night. I dropped an old man's english muffin and cursed in front of his grandchildren, forgot this, left that, got written up, forgot about people, couldn't get to people etc....It was a shitty night. Needless to say, I'm learning to deal with all types of people. However, that doesn't mean that I'm learning to understand people. That's something completely different. I just can't understand that type of behavior. If you're reading this, please take heed. Don't act like a nutcase when you go out to eat. Don't request odd things  ( a glass of buttermilk to wash down your huevos rancheros), don't be super picky (cook my chicken on foil so it doesn't get grill marks) don't leave shit tips ($.23), and don't rant and rave to your server about a simple human mistake that can be fixed. Just don't. We are people too, we care, we know the motto "the customer is always right" you don't need to act it out for us. Be pleasant and we will be even more so back. Don't make us cry over a toaster oven...it's degrading. Let's all just be cool and relaxed....after all, it is just spinach.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Traced

You've got blood in your mouth-the kind that traces teeth 
I cannot fathom the outcome of someone crying dry the importance of unopened letters.
You leave them in the box entitled "You're Loss" 
And capitulate to the silence of sleep-
you do not anymore
and I wait. 
You're the dark corner of the road that is ill-timed by the flashing lights of the auto
motor, beating, breaking, feeling, black. 
You are the soft skin of a pelted punch to my pitted core
an illicit pump of spark out my nose and into the air of ice.
What has happened with you?
Why don't you believe in the things that I do-
anymore.
You have sunken and seethed with the beads from the pine tree outside your window
that break and bend in pure lightness.
Where have I been when my feet break their vessels and bleed
they bleed a point of red on the soul of each arched line.
I wonder because I want with the intensity of how it was. 
I thought it was, I hoped for it, tried to make do with the crass fabric of pinched seams
What is it that we've lost
You bleed, I bleed, we all go out and drown.
"I thought I understood it. But I didn't. I knew the smudgeness of it. The eagerness of it. The Idea of it. Of you and me."

Saturday, November 19, 2011

I Loved it "Like Crazy"

I went to the movies alone last night.

I saw "Like Crazy" and fell in love with its honesty and portrayal of love. There was a young essence to it even though the characters were beyond their years and their cycles of back and forth romance was beautifully crafted. There was no bullshit like love is forever, love will set you free, love is the greatest thing of your young life, it was more about what love actually is and isn't. It questioned the purpose and divinity of love, if that even exists, and put emphasis on relationships. I loved it.
The theater was nearly empty, but housed me, and a handful of old folks. (Twilight took all the youngin's out)
It was peaceful, comfortable. Why can't I see a movie alone when everyone is busy? I wanted so badly to see it, so I looked up times and drove the 20 miles to the theater and saw it. Worth every cent. I recommend.
** I also recommend the soundtrack. It's great, it's heartbreaking. 

Friday, November 18, 2011

In the End

   It's the illusion that simplicity at its finest is enough to continue the aching throb that pulls up on the strings of tattered fragments. In a lit moment of fight and endurance we suddenly reach the finale only to wonder what it was that we were after in the first place. What the tug and pull of enchanted bliss left us with is an uncertain gratitude of feeling strongly for something. The aureate love of being in love or perhaps having the warmer side of the sheets to lift and spread, throw above our heads. There is a belief that goes along a wire of perception and individual opinion before becoming a fairytale of mythical proportions. The golden thief of billions.
Perhaps it is only the moments of the "now", the pleasure and newness of them that make up these ideas which forgo the inevitable and ever-existing doubt, hatred, suspicion, heart brokenness. It is all relevant when held hand-in-hand with one another. Perhaps we are built to love the chase, the mine, yours, each other's, until we are standing in a white walled room with ours and then it becomes listlessness. Idleness. The grey smudge that we feared and promised to never make ours suddenly appears as a lost hope and more of a take than a give, unless of course, you are the giver. What is it?
Are we simply fighting for individual, inexplicable moments? Tiny bits of the whole until we fit the last piece of the puzzle to find exactly what we were trying to avoid. There is an extent and then there is an expectation. There it is and then there it is as its unattainable self. We can see, hold, become influenced by, follow, track, seek, linger on it, but it cannot be ours because time wills it back into a canister of forgotten things, forgotten moments.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Short Stories III

 I. Her feet reminded me of an airport- the kind that older women wear onto the plane.

II. I currently wreak of hair chemicals and unfortunately, the blokes who sit next to me will have to wonder (but not really) where and what that awful cement-like stench is. It's me guys...it's me.

III. An old woman in the salon violently flipped up her hair dryer and complained that it was getting too hot. It immediately reminded me of Final Destination 2- or 3.

IV. I seriously can't get over my own chemical stench

V. I registered today with complete and total success. Subtly working around my work schedule, I was able to obtain a schedule that kicks my current schedule in the ass. Here goes:

i.Magazine journalism
ii. Fashion 101
iii. Math 251
iv. English 1b
*Fridays off
It worked out perfectly aside from my journalism class being nearly 4hrs long into the night. It's cool, it's a step. I need steps.

VI. As people file into the classroom as we speak, i am silently praying and warning them of an unappealing smell emanating from the top of my head.

The End. 

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Nice Turkey

I will forever smell of burnt toast and kitchen sweat.
I've come to accept this fact and I've come to accept that no amount of Tide detergent will be able to rid the smell of diner from my sweaters. Between the end of a class and work I try to sleep, I try to get as much of that as I can before walking around for an eight hour shift. I think :
ugh, not today. I do not want to work today. but then I get there and it changes. The cooks make jokes about everything, they cook us fried foods for no reason, and my friend and I clap our hands and make shitty shakes with toppling over whipped cream and an over-abundance of cherries on top. We track down lost water cups and clean invisible messes for the cameras. I plated/cut/plastic wrapped brownies that stuck to my fingers as I laughed about how the battle between me and plastic wrap will continue on for eons. Despite our feisty, arrogant, and bossy supervisor, we managed to have fun behind her back, sharing employee meals, running about "jinxing" each other's tables. It's fun. It's been fun and I feel good for once. I feel like it's okay if I fuck up, if I want to spend money, be weird, flirt with people, look away, get annoyed, get a piercing, talk too loudly. I feel accepted, unlike at school where I spend the other 50% of my time. It's nice. I fear the day when I'll get burnt out as so many of the staff has already become, still, they're lively, funny, inappropriate, real people. I'm starting to look forward to the fact that I'll probably be working on Thanksgiving. If you're thinking : WTF THAT'S AWFUL, well it's not. I love to spend time with my family, but at the same time, the types of folks eating thanksgiving dinner at a diner will probably be having the same day I am. I won't mind not having to dress up for the family, pretend like school is going brilliantly, and talk of why I don't have a boyfriend (those are the popular topics with the aunts/uncles/cousins) I won't mind not having to watch the football games/hockey games/ not eating everything I want because it would be unlady-like. It will be nice to work, keep busy, and eat leftovers in my sweats, on the couch, watching "Twilight"  (I plan to do all of the above.) It's nice.

Monday, November 14, 2011

"The Many"

Face time, free time, friend time, fine time-
Today was all of those things. Sometimes I fear that our lack of communal discussions and face-to-face chats will diminish chemistry like it's no big deal. I'm afraid that thin strips of Italian leather will untwine and leave me a pile of dried cow. I only fear it when it's not there, when the green dots on facebook disappear, when my phone stops beeping, when there is a break in the group messaging. Not right away of course, I do have a life myself, but when a week goes by and nobody hears from anybody. The red lines we've intentionally drawn across a map we don't have will fade to pink and then simply to a crease in the paper where a stern fist mashed lines together that spread across the country.
It is not so. It doesn't fizzle out, sometimes it just takes a break, whether  it be a breath of fresh air in Washington, a party in New York, a student lounge in Irvine, or at a diner in the wee hours of the night. Sometimes, it doesn't need words or reassurance that it exists. There was that one moment where the laughter went silent as it sucked the air from our lungs, when we were bent over out computer screen and back in the sleek black car crackin' jokes. It was a moment of solidity and awareness that trilled from computer to computer through some magical and unknown way. Sometimes I realize what it is to be cohesive. I find myself tied and tangled by my friend of five year's boy problems. The kind that drone on and on with "I told you so's" and weariness. I watch out for her, but she stumbles still, and then I get on my computer with the three people that I've known for less time and realize that this is cohesiveness. This rids me of that wary feeling. That letter, the one that was sent by the Washington air, said something along the lines of 
"sometimes I think society gets so caught up with finding 'the one' that they neglect to appreciate 'the many'- their friends, their rock, their source of laughter...you guys!"
In the brown ink of the pen strokes, I was wholly reminded of the truth. The truth that through separation,has caused  my mind to become diminished, trying to find "the one" when I already have "the many" despite the distance.
I am thankful for my many.
" I want someone who makes me fall over desks and run into doors"

Friday, November 11, 2011

Sparks

There hasn't been any spark. Anything that made me say "Yes, this is it!" There are thousands of the male species at school, some of which I have mingled with. Even a cute one in my music class has become familiar with me and I with him. There was a cute guy in my math class and we also mingled, but nothing. I literally felt nothing. Sometimes I 'd get a little excited to be in class with them, but I think that's because I knew I'd have a friend for once, someone familiar, someone down-to-earth to sit next to. I worried for awhile thinking about the reasons I'm single, thinking about what if there's something wrong with me? What if my body is saying one gender and my brain is unconsciously asking for another? What if I'm repelling the male species for some unknown chemical or biological reason? On the other hand, I've been telling myself that I know plenty of single people who are amazing, smart, beautiful, great, genuine people and that I should be proud that I'm not just going willy nilly. I should be thinking well, I guess God has had this plan for a long time, that I'll have to wait and wait, but in the end the guy I'm waiting for will be worth it and more. Maybe he'll have to catch me up on some things, but nonetheless, he will be for me. Here comes the silly part:
Last night while serving, I took the orders of a table of four men in their twenties. One of them I got a good vibe from right off the bat, as I was nervous to approach a table of such attractive beings. They were very sweet and sort of subtly funny without being sarcastic. The "good vibe" guy said thank you every time I brought something to the table whether or not it was for him. He was kind and his voice was one that, let's just say, I wouldn't mind waking up to. ;) The group of them fit together so well, like a designer's collection. I felt oddly at ease for being around such good looking beings (usually I choke up around cute guys) Then I realized what I was getting was a spark .This was it! This was the kind of guy. Now, while I know nothing about any of them, I can tell you that their style was spot on, they seemed mature, comfortable with themselves, kind, and respectful, with a good taste in food. ;) I'll probably not see them again, but it was nice to get a little something, something to let me know that it is out there and that I shouldn't settle for less just because I'm lonely.
Adieu.

Midnight Madness

I've just gotten home from my shift. The time flew by with rapid razor wings. At one point I had about six tables with a two person minimum, and one with 5 teens ordering floats and hot chocolate. It was insanity, I was sweating, running with coffee pots, apologizing for things, burning myself with hot plates to the point of welts (my friend Aaron taught me to put yellow mustard on burns the second it happens...IT WORKS ) I was forgetting, laughing, wanting to cry, and becoming annoyed with the needy Persian people on table five. Here's the thing: I made bank tonight. I walked (with the help of a $20 tip from a family friend)  with $98. I became coy with a table of "my types" and they were sweet and kind and made  the chaos seem subdued. I had bitchy teens ask me in valley-girl tones to get them "chiiiiicken fuuuungers aaaaand....a shuuuuurley templeee pluhease" Right. A boy, probably a Junior in High School thought it'd be funny to be flirty and got nothing from this end of the see- saw. His lady friends commenced to give me dirty looks and yell at him outside about how I'm not that pretty. Cool guys, make sure you get home before your mothers get too worried. You have school tomorrow.
Overall, it was intense in every single way, BUT I love still.
Nightfall.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

CharacterisTICKS

Let's put something out into the open, something I don't much talk about due to its oddness and its undiagnosed peculiarity. I had (have) a tick. It's gotten much better, but it used to be terrible, debilitating, and utterly uncontrollable. I never talked about it because I figured acknowledging it would only make matters worse, as if the tick knew I was talking about it and also because it was probably blatantly obvious to those around me, thus, there was no need to talk about it. It's somewhat hard to describe without sounding too wordy, but what I do know is that it feels like I'm losing all control, as if I'm falling out of an airplane with now parachute. Mostly it happens when I'm alone in a large group/crowd of people (oxymoron), I should say when I'm in a crowd of strangers, particularly if those strangers make me feel very insecure or if they're staring- which is mostly in my head. Here's what happens:
I get very tense in the neck/shoulder region VERY tense as if you could peel the skin right off my back. Then, a tremor whips through the back of my neck, my spinal cord acting as an electrical line. The tremor throws itself up to the top of my spinal cord and causes my entire head/neck to shake. A mini earthquake within my body. It usually causes me to sit most of the time with my chin rested in the palm of my hand, as that seems to hold the pieces together. Sometimes it gets bad, to the point where I feel glued to the inside of my hand and if I look either which way, an earthquake will erupt.
I've looked the symptoms up and all I have found is that it's a nervous tick of sorts. It's gotten better, but it still sweeps over me at times when I'm feeling like everyone is looking, judging, staring, comparing etc...
Why am I saying this now?- Because I've never said it before and because i want my tick to know that I know it's there and that I am talking about it in front of other people. Ironic.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Give it Your Full 82%

" I don't think you're giving this school thing 100%" -courtesy of my mom.
We were driving home from a dinner out with my brother and at my excited exclamation that my Anthropology final is optional, she spurred into the notion that I'm not giving it my all. Here's the thing: I've broken the curve in my psych class on the last test and aced all the others, soared through my last anthropology test and passed the one before, and got an 82% on my music midterm, not to mention the insurmountable amount of "redo's" my professor allows when homework is done incorrectly. Besides that, I have done very well on the homework despite the agony it puts me through. So, no I guess I'm not giving 100%, I guess I'm giving it an average B...or let's say an 82% to be safe.
She wasn't completely wrong in that I don't necessarily care for school, to be honest, I don't think I was cut out for sitting in a classroom and stressing over letters of the alphabet. What got to me was that she urged me to consider throwing my job overboard if it came up against a solid academic schedule. This work, that has made me happy and has finally granted me the ability to be a waitress with awesome, funny, sweet people. This job that I've worked so hard at and have been dedicated to for nearly half a year now. I love to work despite the small annoyances it brings, I love the money! I'm sorry, but I love feeling the security of independence and knowing that it's my hard-earned cash. All my mother sees is me sitting in a cardboard box ten years from now with a sign that reads: Will take anything. Starving.Just ate a stray cat. or Will sell my body for free if it gets me out of this box. 
What I see is me, doing what makes me happy, making money, and  not being miserable because of something I was doing for someone else all along. In all honesty, I'm not going to class for me. I'm doing it to keep my mom off my back (it's still not working) and to make sure she can tell people that her daughters are both in college. I guess I can thank my older sister for excelling in art school and making great strides for setting my mom's expectations so high. (I really am happy for my sister) BUT art school is not like what I'm doing. She basically got to do what she wanted to do right off the bat with a few pain in the ass art/drawing/color/graphic classes in between. Me, on the other hand, well, I'm floating from classroom to classroom trying to get by on required credits with about zero motivation and a huge cloud hanging over my head. C'mon when with the 82%'ers get some appreciation mom?
I'm pretty sure my Anthropology professor is Zooey Deschanel. When she's not making albums or acting professionally, she teaches some classes here and there. No biggy.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Short Stories Part II

I. A boy with glasses at the counter ordered hot chocolate and a piece of chocolate cake. He was cute...sort of abnormally normal cute-nothing special, but not completely mute in appearance. He nervously asked me a question-what that question ended up being was for the number of a fellow waitress.
II. I served wine for the first time today. It was Hess Red Wine. $6 a glass ladies, oh- and by "ladies" I mean four older women who were having a "meeting" that lasted hours.
III. Perhaps one of the greatest sensations is recognition, the kind that comes with smell, taste, or seeing.
IV. An angry woman told me her chicken soup was "shit" and that she wished for better chicken to be put in her bowl. I thought-some people don't have chicken to complain about.
V. An old man who ate by himself paid for the meal of a young couple that sat across from him. What was his motive? (love?)
VI. I set my arm on a hot toaster and burned my hand with hot soup.
- I like work.

Monday, November 7, 2011

"you meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you, and then you meet one person and your life is changed forever." - Love & Other Drugs

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Liquid Knees


I had no energy, I'd left it on the floor at work in a sad, crumpled, dismantled pile. I was spent, a zombie of the day. The rain brought in everyone and their brother today and at maximum capacity, us hostesses, we worked to our limits. An angry customer ranted and raged about scrambled eggs, and even got a little physical with the manager and called our supervisor a dog (which sent him barking the rest of the day ;) I had a to-go order that added up to $124, took 30 minutes to arrange, took 20 pieces of toast, and seven bags to complete. TWENTY PIECES OF SOURDOUGH TOAST. No tip. Nope, none. The women left with their luggage of breakfast, leaving me with a quivering lip and a lump in my throat  BECAUSE tips are pretty much my gas money, insurance money, and haircut money. Karma.
As you can probably tell, things were nuts. I let the other two girls eat their employee meals, skipping mine, and waited with a growling stomach until my clock-out time. I was done, happy to have a spaghetti dinner ahead of me. The point:
As I drove, I realized I was the driving dead and so I held down the volume "UP" button and yelled/sang all the words to "Who Knows, Who Cares" People driving near me must have thought I was psychotic. It felt so good and if I were a video game, it would have been a "1 UP!" and I would have become multicolored and been able to do somersaults in the air. Music was all I needed. No food, no words of encouragement, no money- all I needed was to yell at the top of my lungs with my favorite guys. Good'day.
**It's okay work, I still love you...just not today

Friday, November 4, 2011

...and it goes on


Without jinxing anything (listen up God of Jinx!) I'd like to say that work is the greatest. I love it.
I love serving people and I somewhat love the hectic, the moving, running, slipping (I nearly did a full splits in the slippery walk-in fridge). I love punching orders in, yelling broken Spanish to the cooks, and dancing to loud salsa music with everyone behind the closed door. I love the cussing, the "FUCKS!" my supervisor yells too loud when ice cream melts down his arm. I love the common issues of missing spoons, too many shakes, and disgruntled customers- by the way, I got +1 point for getting an angry man to say "You too!" when I urged him to have a good day, after a co-worker tried...and failed. It was hectic tonight and that was nothing. Right as I was leaving hoards & HOARDS & HHHHOOOAAARRRDDDSSS of obnoxious teens crammed in doing all sorts of stupid teen things in a loud manner. Next time I'll have to stick around for that...and teens generally don't tip. I dealt with bitchy girls, handsome fellas, douchey fellas, and strange old people. Nothing really bothered me, except one threesome that took 20 minutes to decide they wanted a Root beer float and a brownie with whipped cream on top. Good thinkin' guys, I was afraid smoke was going to start coming from your ears.  I also dropped/tipped a tray of cups of ice all over the floor and yelled "SHIIIIIT"  right out loud. Woops!
When I asked the cute guy I work with to help me because "I'm going to spill these waters everywhere" he scolded me by saying "Don't put negative energy into it!!!!" I have a lot to learn. It's good though, people are generally silly and helpful (the people I work with now anyways.) I like it for now, but I'll be working until the wee hours of the morning next week...five days. SO I'll have a pot of coffee to go please. Adieu.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Rearrange Some Things


Sometimes we need to quit so that we can see what we've been missing- maybe it's sleep, laughter, food, or the calm. We're good at things...and we're not good at things. Sometimes we quit the things we're good at because in all honesty, it scares us to have a distraction. I dropped out of math, something that I will probably regret come next semester, but not something I regret now. I love it. I've never loved a thought about math more : not having to do it. What if we did that with other things? What if we just said "I want this, and I don't want to do something else" and what if we just did what we wanted? I don't mean drinking every night and getting hammered because we wanted to, or skipping a job interview at the expense of our family members, or dropping out of school altogether, I mean the little things. Things that will come along again and we can deal with them another time. Things like math for example. I hated it, I loathed having to be in class for two hours (7p.m.-9p.m.) and not understanding or caring about a damn thing. I hated failing and just laughing as I looked at my meager percentage before leaving the room an hour early. I hated.
   I hate to hate. So I think the things that I find myself hating should be removed for a little while. (Not people, I'm not a serial killer) I mean in my life. You know how it is? There are things that make waking up a hassle when we should be greeting the day and thanking it for allowing us to breath again, see again, love again. I felt guilty, I felt like I was disappointing my mom, but that passed, and now I feel lighter. Do something for you without wondering who will be looking down on you.
   Today I took on serving 100% and had a table of seven teenagers amongst others. It was stressful, a little hot, and my face began to shine with sweat, but the people I work with are great. Funny people who make me really laugh, something I hadn't done for two months straight. They compliment, joke, jab, yell, cuss, run, etc... they are people living in this world by all means necessary. So, my message tonight is to find something that seems like an ink stain on a white shirt and wipe it away. If you can't, if there's too many risks in doing so- do something that makes you happy instead. For the love of life
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Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Short Stories

I.    It was really too hot to be sleeping in the car, but I did. I ate my lunch, slipped off my shoes, and reclined my chair. It was hot like clothes sticking to your body hot. Like, hair plastering to your forehead hot. My string-cheese had bloated/melted in a weird artificial way and I ate it anyways. My salad had become somewhat limp, but I put dressing on it and enjoyed it anyways. I felt nothing. 
  
II.  A boy held the door open for exiting students before the rest of us could enter for our scheduled class. A girl walked out and obviously stunned him. She was beautiful, tall, with a short bob cut that shaped her face like a razor. Her long skirt flowing across the floor, complementing her skin tone. He just stared, his jaw slightly agape, and my eyes observing the whole scene. 

III. No amount of Altoids can rid the balsamic vinaigrette smell from my breath. It makes me self-conscious.

IV.  I emailed my math teacher today to ask him whether or not I should withdraw with only 5 weeks in the semester to go. I'm eagerly and hopelessly awaiting a reply. I have failed all tests in the class and can't say that my GPA is jumping for joy, in fact, my GPA says she'd be better off without her complicated romance with Math 251. 

V. I'm in Anthropology and just watched the group I used to be in for a future project struggle to explain their topic to the teacher. That's because it was my topic and my idea. I withdrew from the group after realizing I'd fail the assignment if I stuck around.I came up with something else. 
Adieu. 
*Update: I am officially math free for the next 5 weeks. I withdrew, and in doing so (as the computer warned me before confirming) a "W" will appear on my transcript. Oh shit. You get away from the bad, but it follows your ass by clenching down on your coattails. It was something I felt I had to do. It was something I wanted to do, something I couldn't stand doing anymore. I really do hate failing, and so I quit. ;) 

Trainee in Training

First day of training went well. It was exceptionally slow, so my trainer: Katy, was able to take me through everything and I was able to ask any question that came to mind. For whatever reason, my shake-making skills were on the fritz and the usually beautiful presentation  was splattered up my arm and all over the counter (darn nerves). It was also my first time making a peanut butter, banana, chocolate, and oreo shake. Lemme tell you: That shit is hard. However, the boy who ordered it was sweet and very very beautiful AND he left me a two dollar bill. Yippee!
I'm rather excited to start being a waitress with the afternoon crew. All very funny people, one, who actually just graduated from Berkeley with a degree in Neuroscience. (See, the economy is still that bad) I received my apron and order book complete with paper pad and it seemed a whole different level of responsibility. It does look like Thanksgiving dinner will not be spent with my family, but rather, with the other waiters and cook staff. I guess that's the price ya pay. Day II of training commences tomorrow. Hazah!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Can I Take Your Order?

Today is my first day training as a waitress and I'm balls nervous. Not so much for the escalated amount of human interaction that it will require, but more for the fact that the menu is about seven pages long (front & back!) and being a waitress at a very popular restaurant comes with customer rushes and stress. I've taken tables before, in fact, I took three tables a few weeks back. Simple. They ordered simple things, but I know that not everyone is going to order simple things and not everyone will be pleased with the food given to them. Here's a sample order: I'm gonna have the Denver Omelet with no tomatoes, but onions instead, extra cheese with sour cream mixed in with the side of potatoes. I'd also like wheat toast...make it dry with strawberry jelly on the side, and my homefries well done." Doesn't sound entirely daunting, but that's because I made it up on the spot and I'm not as complicated as the average foodie. Then there's the fact that I will be working every holiday as a server, which is completely different than hostessing every holiday because: I probably won't be home for Thanksgiving dinner (seems like my shifts will run from late afternoon-night) and probably won't be home for Christmas dinner either...I'm sorta bummed. Everyone says Christmas is super busy and so I don't expect to be let off easy, in fact, I can't even ask for them off without being written up at best. What's the upside? Well, to be perfectly blunt, I'll be making much more money. I'm not one of those people who will go to great lengths, or even do anything I don't want to do for the purpose of making a pretty penny. However, I am becoming the classic cliche of the woman who worked her way through college while "busing tables". The money will help for the fun stuff and for the apartment I'm dreaming of. Money is, ultimately, a good thing for those who don't obsess over it. For that, I am grateful for the promotion, and eager to bust my chops to show the boss what I can do and that I'm willing to learn as long as my holiday season isn't thrown to the sharks, and by sharks I mean...hungry customers. Fun Fact: All servers tip the bus boys 10% of their tips...every time we work. That was a new one for me, as are tip reports, which is basically more money being taken out of pocket for the government's secret usage. Gotta love it. Overall, I'm flattered that I've been given the positions, and oh, so glad to not have to swipe credit cards for seven hours straight, and VERY glad to not have to be responsible for the other two hostesses anymore. Wish me luck, because I'm going to need it. I pray for balance and zen.