Look at this asshole.
I feel a little better. I still have three pages to go though. *Shakes fist in the air*
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Pffff
I feel a little better. I still have three pages to go though. *Shakes fist in the air*
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Another Day, Another Dollar
I hate teenagers. One thing I hate more than teenagers are "future professionals" which are basically the same annoying creatures but with suits and skirts on. Their professional appearance does nothing to hamper their thirst for sugary, calorie loaded concoctions that would give the average person a stroke.
I digress. No, no I don't. Why we don't just get a machine instead of making them all individually baffles me. People don't care about these beverages being handmade, they just want them as delicious and as speedy as they do in the drive thru. I used to get stressed before this job, like, flustered when there was a long line I couldn't keep up with. But with age I guess comes a calming sense of resignation. You're sweating, rushing around, restocking, washing, making drinks, and you look up and see that the line has not dwindled, that people are still waiting, and it's okay. They can wait. I've got my sanity to look out for and I'm not losing it over some Java Chip Frapp. Or twelve.
You know what puts my sanity at risk? Flying pitchers of Black Tea. I was doing my thing and before I know it there's a Black Tea Pitcher all up in my grill spilling it's contents all over the counter and down my front. It looked like I pissed myself and, for a moment, I thought I was going to. Everyone was sighing and shaking their head and I'm just running the playback in my head reassuring myself it wasn't my fault.
It's okay though because later it happened again and, this time, I was innocently standing over the sink.
I digress. No, no I don't. Why we don't just get a machine instead of making them all individually baffles me. People don't care about these beverages being handmade, they just want them as delicious and as speedy as they do in the drive thru. I used to get stressed before this job, like, flustered when there was a long line I couldn't keep up with. But with age I guess comes a calming sense of resignation. You're sweating, rushing around, restocking, washing, making drinks, and you look up and see that the line has not dwindled, that people are still waiting, and it's okay. They can wait. I've got my sanity to look out for and I'm not losing it over some Java Chip Frapp. Or twelve.
You know what puts my sanity at risk? Flying pitchers of Black Tea. I was doing my thing and before I know it there's a Black Tea Pitcher all up in my grill spilling it's contents all over the counter and down my front. It looked like I pissed myself and, for a moment, I thought I was going to. Everyone was sighing and shaking their head and I'm just running the playback in my head reassuring myself it wasn't my fault.
It's okay though because later it happened again and, this time, I was innocently standing over the sink.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Too much time
I think I really just need to go to bed but I've just spent the last 4 hours doing NOTHING and am now paying for it with guilt so deep that I feel like my only solution is to do something...anything really. Origami. Crosswords. Sudoku. Homework. Not homework, I think I've done enough of that today as it robbed me of my nap earlier and I'm feeling a little spiteful. I got home from class around 6:30, sat down and then merely contemplated going outside but deemed it unsafe because there are people running around out there in their greenest attire and they ARE ALL DRUNK *deep breath*. No I'm sure their not all drunk but I did feel a twinge of envy and I would've far rather been out there enjoying a drink or four instead of sitting through three hours of thermodynamic hell. I don't exactly know how I ended up taking physics. I think it was just because a friend of mine was taking it and you can't play wicked games of Connect the Dots against yourself...not saying that I've tried or anything...
Oh hell, the day is almost over.
Oh hell, the day is almost over.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Japanese Housewives
So I think I'm going to briefly postpone my post about "Heart of Darkness" until I get done completely re-reading it. But until then...
Here's an article that struck my interest.
Now yesterday I had just met with the japanese women at my old church for a going away party. I hadn't seen these women in over a year and was delighted to see new faces. My mom and a couple other women from the church meet weekly with a group of japanese ladies to work on their conversational English skills. My mom doesn't know japanese but these ladies are already pretty proficient with english words but lacking the space to put them into context. Yesterday was so much fun. They are all very friendly and so polite and some that I pegged as mid 20's turned out to be mid-30's, they were so bubbly. It's just a space and a time that they can have conversations in english and feel comfortable, opposed to a busy superstore or over the phone with a stranger. All of the women have come here with their husbands who work for japanese corporations and spend most of their days alone with their children. They meet alot with other japanese women for camaraderie and then see their husbands for only a few hours every evening as they all work close to 12 hour days. It is so far off from my perception of family life, the kind that I was raised with, that it's jolting to the mind. I was raised with a working father and a stay at home mom with a part time job. She was always available and I saw my dad when he came home around 5 every night. For them though, they say goodbye to their husbands in the morning, take their kids to school and then....I don't know. They run errands, meet with other women, clean, get the kids from school, make dinner, etc. Then their kids don't see their father unless they wake up early enough in the morning. Their long work days seem like a point of pride for their wives, and as they went around the table comparing how much their husbands worked, one seemed almost bashful when she shared that her husband was home around five on the weekdays. When we asked why they work such long hours they explained that it's just customary to stay until the job is finished and that it's rude to just leave if someone asks something of them.
I admire these women greatly as they all seem to go through so much on their own in a foreign country and yet are still so excited and joyful. When I was talking with them, slowly, which was difficult because I tend to ramble, they just seemed so genuinely interested in what I was saying that I almost had a hard time focusing on where I was going with my thought. They enthusiastically nod and "Mmhmm....mmm....uh huh" and then wait until you're clearly done speaking before they add onto it. I couldn't get over their degree of politeness and it made me feel almost self conscious as I didn't want to offend them in any way. But mostly I just couldn't get over how friendly they all were. Once again, much respect to these women.
But I think the article above emphasizes that they might be more than just housewives.
Another interesting article.
Here's an article that struck my interest.
Now yesterday I had just met with the japanese women at my old church for a going away party. I hadn't seen these women in over a year and was delighted to see new faces. My mom and a couple other women from the church meet weekly with a group of japanese ladies to work on their conversational English skills. My mom doesn't know japanese but these ladies are already pretty proficient with english words but lacking the space to put them into context. Yesterday was so much fun. They are all very friendly and so polite and some that I pegged as mid 20's turned out to be mid-30's, they were so bubbly. It's just a space and a time that they can have conversations in english and feel comfortable, opposed to a busy superstore or over the phone with a stranger. All of the women have come here with their husbands who work for japanese corporations and spend most of their days alone with their children. They meet alot with other japanese women for camaraderie and then see their husbands for only a few hours every evening as they all work close to 12 hour days. It is so far off from my perception of family life, the kind that I was raised with, that it's jolting to the mind. I was raised with a working father and a stay at home mom with a part time job. She was always available and I saw my dad when he came home around 5 every night. For them though, they say goodbye to their husbands in the morning, take their kids to school and then....I don't know. They run errands, meet with other women, clean, get the kids from school, make dinner, etc. Then their kids don't see their father unless they wake up early enough in the morning. Their long work days seem like a point of pride for their wives, and as they went around the table comparing how much their husbands worked, one seemed almost bashful when she shared that her husband was home around five on the weekdays. When we asked why they work such long hours they explained that it's just customary to stay until the job is finished and that it's rude to just leave if someone asks something of them.
I admire these women greatly as they all seem to go through so much on their own in a foreign country and yet are still so excited and joyful. When I was talking with them, slowly, which was difficult because I tend to ramble, they just seemed so genuinely interested in what I was saying that I almost had a hard time focusing on where I was going with my thought. They enthusiastically nod and "Mmhmm....mmm....uh huh" and then wait until you're clearly done speaking before they add onto it. I couldn't get over their degree of politeness and it made me feel almost self conscious as I didn't want to offend them in any way. But mostly I just couldn't get over how friendly they all were. Once again, much respect to these women.
But I think the article above emphasizes that they might be more than just housewives.
Another interesting article.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Home!
It feels nice. I don't have a ton of projects to keep me busy so this time I can actually just sit around annoy my family members. My older brother got this really cool Mario game for the Wii which is basically an updated version of the classic Super Nintendo Mario levels. I was pretty excited about that even though my skills were...less than admirable. It's sweet though because you can have it to be multiplayers so that it's complete chaos. Hilarious chaos. Especially having mom round out the team because she kept killing me by running into me or jumping on me so she could make it to another platform. Some choice words may have been thrown.
Also, I got to take my computer to the Apple Hospital today where they reassured me that the insanely loud whirring noise coming from my Macbook was just a fan that had a little too much dust on it (hanging head in shame). So...that's very good because I think there would be a chance of me having a stroke if it turned out to be my hard drive. Talk about Eek.
I really have nothing important to share. I think that in my next post I'm going to talk about something significant. What about? I'll think on it.
Let's talk about "Heart of Darkness" and then from there either talk about the Congo (heavy), or revert back to my love for Marlon Brando via "Apocalypse Now". Or neither. Maybe we'll just talk about how awesome "Heart of Darkness" is.
Also, I got to take my computer to the Apple Hospital today where they reassured me that the insanely loud whirring noise coming from my Macbook was just a fan that had a little too much dust on it (hanging head in shame). So...that's very good because I think there would be a chance of me having a stroke if it turned out to be my hard drive. Talk about Eek.
I really have nothing important to share. I think that in my next post I'm going to talk about something significant. What about? I'll think on it.
Let's talk about "Heart of Darkness" and then from there either talk about the Congo (heavy), or revert back to my love for Marlon Brando via "Apocalypse Now". Or neither. Maybe we'll just talk about how awesome "Heart of Darkness" is.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
MORNING!
I love waking up to sunshine. What is this, day five? Six?
What's even better? I can actually breathe today and swallow without wincing. Awesome. So one more day of not doing anything except packing to go home, those are my orders. However, it's pretty much impossible for me to spend a day "relaxing", I get antsy pretty quickly on sunny days like these. I'm not allowed outside though! Ugh. So all the curtains are drawn back and that'll just have to do for today.
I'm looking forward to this week.
What's even better? I can actually breathe today and swallow without wincing. Awesome. So one more day of not doing anything except packing to go home, those are my orders. However, it's pretty much impossible for me to spend a day "relaxing", I get antsy pretty quickly on sunny days like these. I'm not allowed outside though! Ugh. So all the curtains are drawn back and that'll just have to do for today.
I'm looking forward to this week.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Sing me to sleeeeep, I'm TIRED and IIII've GOT to go to bedddd
I can't sleep with socks on. Like, if I'm napping on the couch or in a car or anywhere then, yeah, socks are great. I just can't crawl into my bed with socks on. One time I tried and it was the most restless night in history.
The word "sock" is weird. I don't think I even like the word "sock".
I need sleep. I was hoping that by taking my socks off it would somehow signal sleeptime to my brain but no luck on that so far. So I'm just going to sit and watch tv with no socks on and see what happens.
The word "sock" is weird. I don't think I even like the word "sock".
I need sleep. I was hoping that by taking my socks off it would somehow signal sleeptime to my brain but no luck on that so far. So I'm just going to sit and watch tv with no socks on and see what happens.
This illness has driven me to drink!
Orange juice! Lots and lots of the OJ! This last week has been confusing. Mostly just because I'm sick but I don't feel like I have a cold, you KNOW when you have a cold. I've nearly coughed up a lung, gotten winded if I moved faster than a snail, and my throat could be best described as a vibrant fire engine red. Last week when I went in for my yearly poking and prodding the doctor just said, "eh, a chest cold. By the way, you most likely have exercise induced asthma, here's a script for an inhaler. Call me if it gets worse." Now I love my doctor, and yes, I do need an inhaler and it's helped yadda yadda, but there was this unpleasant foreboding in the air. The cold, icy air that continued to rip my lungs to bits of shred. I imagine my lungs like a piece of paper in a five year olds hands anxious to make a bajillion snowflake cutouts. A five year old jerk.
Five days later and I have no voice, can't NOT cough, and generally just want to curl up in a ball and wimper. A hug from my mom would probably make me feel better. Illnesses have a way of making you feel like a kid again, and it's makes your mom treat you like a kid again. I'm not going to fight it. But I still don't feel like I have a cold! Seriously! I really am baffled by this one. So I called off work today (sorry Kathryn!) and poor Kathryn had to cover for me. It's the first time I've ever called off sick since I started there last May so I think they believe me when I say I'M ILL! I dragged my sorry self up the hill to my doc's office and got some of those antibiotics! Hooray! She also ordered me off work for the rest of the weekend as I'm contagious and all, and I had the distinct displeasure of having to break that news to my manager. She was less than thrilled. I didn't even get the obligatory well wishes, just a long sigh and "well...we'll just have to figure something out". That really helped. Illness with a generous heaping of guilt. I don't think customers want their lattes with a side of strep. Just sayin', that costs extra.
So my pile of medicines, my cold cocktail if you will, was swept off my coffee table to be replaced with a shiny, boxed, beacon of hope. Something I can't pronounce but that just makes it seem all the more valid. It has a "z" in it so that's how I know it's all business. So here's to feeling better (holding up a glass of orange juice) !
Five days later and I have no voice, can't NOT cough, and generally just want to curl up in a ball and wimper. A hug from my mom would probably make me feel better. Illnesses have a way of making you feel like a kid again, and it's makes your mom treat you like a kid again. I'm not going to fight it. But I still don't feel like I have a cold! Seriously! I really am baffled by this one. So I called off work today (sorry Kathryn!) and poor Kathryn had to cover for me. It's the first time I've ever called off sick since I started there last May so I think they believe me when I say I'M ILL! I dragged my sorry self up the hill to my doc's office and got some of those antibiotics! Hooray! She also ordered me off work for the rest of the weekend as I'm contagious and all, and I had the distinct displeasure of having to break that news to my manager. She was less than thrilled. I didn't even get the obligatory well wishes, just a long sigh and "well...we'll just have to figure something out". That really helped. Illness with a generous heaping of guilt. I don't think customers want their lattes with a side of strep. Just sayin', that costs extra.
So my pile of medicines, my cold cocktail if you will, was swept off my coffee table to be replaced with a shiny, boxed, beacon of hope. Something I can't pronounce but that just makes it seem all the more valid. It has a "z" in it so that's how I know it's all business. So here's to feeling better (holding up a glass of orange juice) !
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Positively glowing
Man oh man did I miss sunshine! Four days in a row of glorious sunshine! Even though I've been a tad busy and pretty ill with a crazy cough (that makes my voice sound like a forty year old heavy smoker) I realize that things could be worse.
I don't know what it is about today, maybe it's the sunshine, but despite some upsets I feel renewed somehow. Maybe it's the effects of the Benadryl? Because besides feeling renewed I feel like I may have the Plague. That's right, plague with a capital "P". But really though, I feel like I'm in a good place. I feel spring on it's way.
On Sunday I get to go home for the first time since Christmas and I'm really excited to see my family. I'm going to make sure to wear out my welcome.
I don't know what it is about today, maybe it's the sunshine, but despite some upsets I feel renewed somehow. Maybe it's the effects of the Benadryl? Because besides feeling renewed I feel like I may have the Plague. That's right, plague with a capital "P". But really though, I feel like I'm in a good place. I feel spring on it's way.
On Sunday I get to go home for the first time since Christmas and I'm really excited to see my family. I'm going to make sure to wear out my welcome.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
?
What does is mean when your ex quotes High Fidelity to insult you? I'm conflicted because I really like that movie so in a way I'm like "aw shucks you shouldn't have" but on the other hand I'm like "but I'm awesome!!!" This was the chosen quote:
"Can you see your name on that list? Maybe you'd sneak into the top ten. But there's just no room for you in the top five, SORRY. Those places are reserved for the kind of heartbreak and humiliation you're just not capable of delivering..."
OOOOOH! I imagine a crowd of people surrounding a boxing ring of some sort covering their mouths in playful defensiveness. What I find so ironic is that it wasn't me who caused the humiliation and heartbreak. He for sure holds a spot in the top five of my personal desert island breakups. Ha, and he always moped about how he was never good at anything.
So I think it's clear that I'm not too broken up about being insulted via John Cusack. Actually, if I HAD to be insulted it would be ONLY via John Cusack. In High Fidelity he always had something clever to say and it makes me wonder if his lines weren't hand sculpted by a woman. Guys don't tend to have the gift of witty comebacks and slicing insults, we were given that gift in spades.
In summation, don't start something with a quote. You won't know how to carry it off and you'll certainly be buried in a never ending hail storm of demeaning and insightful defamations so powerful that you'll pass them down as lore to your children and your childrens children as a warning against trying to outwit a girl.
Okay, that might be a bit dramatic.
"Can you see your name on that list? Maybe you'd sneak into the top ten. But there's just no room for you in the top five, SORRY. Those places are reserved for the kind of heartbreak and humiliation you're just not capable of delivering..."
OOOOOH! I imagine a crowd of people surrounding a boxing ring of some sort covering their mouths in playful defensiveness. What I find so ironic is that it wasn't me who caused the humiliation and heartbreak. He for sure holds a spot in the top five of my personal desert island breakups. Ha, and he always moped about how he was never good at anything.
So I think it's clear that I'm not too broken up about being insulted via John Cusack. Actually, if I HAD to be insulted it would be ONLY via John Cusack. In High Fidelity he always had something clever to say and it makes me wonder if his lines weren't hand sculpted by a woman. Guys don't tend to have the gift of witty comebacks and slicing insults, we were given that gift in spades.
In summation, don't start something with a quote. You won't know how to carry it off and you'll certainly be buried in a never ending hail storm of demeaning and insightful defamations so powerful that you'll pass them down as lore to your children and your childrens children as a warning against trying to outwit a girl.
Okay, that might be a bit dramatic.
Friday, February 26, 2010
......
Sometimes you get tired of dealing with the day to day on your own. Coming home to an empty apartment. Eating by yourself. Watching tv and movies by yourself.
I think it's this weather that just has a way of making you feel depressed. Eh, who knows what the hell is wrong with me today.
I think it's this weather that just has a way of making you feel depressed. Eh, who knows what the hell is wrong with me today.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Ugh Thursday
Sometimes when you say all the things you wanted to say, and most of which being below the belt and hurtful, it makes you feel like you just, I don't know, set off a bomb. Like, a hate bomb? I think the guilt stems from the realization that the words can never be taken back or merely forgotten, but will signal a permanent end to a relationship. I don't speak these sort of permanent, irretrievable words very often and there's only been two instances in my life where I've been so angry and indignant that I've thrown them. The last time I think I was in the tenth grade so....I think that speaks volumes of my interpersonal style. I've let things simmer and fade and I've "forgotten" to return calls. I'm not about repelling and pushing away, more like, I just slowly saunter in the opposite direction.
Today however, I got so mad at someone, I was so tired of hearing of them, from them (rarely *scoff*), and looking at them on facebook, that I just let them have it. Now if you're asking, 'this sounds like intense anger, who could cause such anger in a seemingly lighthearted girl?' you'd be safe in guessing a boy. I always joked and misused the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" until today. It was long overdue, bottled up, steaming. Now, I couldn't put my finger on what triggered it but, when I got mad, I got MAD.
It wasn't so much the choice of words or the fact that I said them, it just bothers me that I can't take them back, even if I were to try. Saying the difficult things, the things you've been wanting to say for years and it all comes out in this weird, anticlimactic way and it's just....over.
Today however, I got so mad at someone, I was so tired of hearing of them, from them (rarely *scoff*), and looking at them on facebook, that I just let them have it. Now if you're asking, 'this sounds like intense anger, who could cause such anger in a seemingly lighthearted girl?' you'd be safe in guessing a boy. I always joked and misused the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" until today. It was long overdue, bottled up, steaming. Now, I couldn't put my finger on what triggered it but, when I got mad, I got MAD.
It wasn't so much the choice of words or the fact that I said them, it just bothers me that I can't take them back, even if I were to try. Saying the difficult things, the things you've been wanting to say for years and it all comes out in this weird, anticlimactic way and it's just....over.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Ugh Tuesday
Yet another reason to loath my Tuesday school schedule, I'll be missing this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ba3ccCBk7hg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ba3ccCBk7hg
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sick of these shadows...
Today was filled with small wins for Kelsey, and it's only noonish.
I woke up at a reasonable hour, ate breakfast, and as if by magic, dressed and ready for the bus on time. The sunshine wasn't too shabby and it begged me to leave my house for some other reason than school. However, I think it was not being able to make myself a bowl of cereal that served as a catalyst for this morning's grocery run. Grocery shopping makes me feel responsible in a weird way, like, finding a sale and making decisions based on quantity and cost...I feel very in control. I also get to run into old coworkers and make some light chat on my way out. Tony was the cashier today and I have to say I was really stoked, not because he's especially good at his job, just that the way he does it is hilarious to me. He's super quiet with very subdued facial expressions and he says everything at the end of his sentences twice. So there he was, snapping bills, and flipping and folding reciepts, all the while saying nothing. So naturally it's my duty to get this guy to talk, to smile, to...anything. It's my weekly challenge. I'm proud to say that today I got out of him a few quips, what could be considered a joke, a smile, AND a chuckle. A personal...or shall I say "interpersonal" best!
I'm just in a cheery mood today and I'm incredibly anxious for summer to get here. Walking home I realized that one of the things I miss most about spring and summer is the full shadows cast by trees that encompass entire sections of parking lots and sidewalks, almost like giant lily pads. I'm sick of the spindly lattice work of these naked trees and their ugly shades of gray. Where's the deep luscious blues and greens?
All this talk about shadows makes me wonder if I spend too much time looking down.
Naw.
I woke up at a reasonable hour, ate breakfast, and as if by magic, dressed and ready for the bus on time. The sunshine wasn't too shabby and it begged me to leave my house for some other reason than school. However, I think it was not being able to make myself a bowl of cereal that served as a catalyst for this morning's grocery run. Grocery shopping makes me feel responsible in a weird way, like, finding a sale and making decisions based on quantity and cost...I feel very in control. I also get to run into old coworkers and make some light chat on my way out. Tony was the cashier today and I have to say I was really stoked, not because he's especially good at his job, just that the way he does it is hilarious to me. He's super quiet with very subdued facial expressions and he says everything at the end of his sentences twice. So there he was, snapping bills, and flipping and folding reciepts, all the while saying nothing. So naturally it's my duty to get this guy to talk, to smile, to...anything. It's my weekly challenge. I'm proud to say that today I got out of him a few quips, what could be considered a joke, a smile, AND a chuckle. A personal...or shall I say "interpersonal" best!
I'm just in a cheery mood today and I'm incredibly anxious for summer to get here. Walking home I realized that one of the things I miss most about spring and summer is the full shadows cast by trees that encompass entire sections of parking lots and sidewalks, almost like giant lily pads. I'm sick of the spindly lattice work of these naked trees and their ugly shades of gray. Where's the deep luscious blues and greens?
All this talk about shadows makes me wonder if I spend too much time looking down.
Naw.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Hooray!
Watch Terry Malloy and Father Barry battle corruption in "On the Waterfront". Do it. Sunday night at 8 o'clock on TCM.
Friday, February 19, 2010
People on the Mesa
Just watched the documentary "Off the Grid: Life on the Mesa" and I have to say that I'm still digesting it. But it just shows a part of the true beauty of a documentary; you may not understand or agree but you can't deny the heartfelt way in which the people it features express their true convictions. It's not about you or your world view anymore, it's about being able to relate to a bare bones human element and just absorb what they have to offer. I'm always amazed by how I start out thinking 'this is insane, this is impractical, dangerous, unhealthy' but in the end get wrapped up in the people's stories and suddenly realize the emotional investment I made when I sat down to watch it.
In short, another truly enlightening and thought provoking feature.
In short, another truly enlightening and thought provoking feature.
Everybody wants a piece.
I had a pretty intense nap dream.
Nap dreams are intense because your body somehow realizes that you have an alarm set to go off in an hour or two so it figures if you're going to sleep, you're going to SLEEP. There's no messing around. It's serious business.
But I don't think I deserved to end up in the middle of a workplace nightmare right after leaving work, that's pretty low. In my dream I walked home which was up the hill, through a cornfield, and then what felt like several miles (in my dream) home. Then I realized that I forgot to return the keys to the shop and trudged back downtown, hat and apron still on. When I got there a guy was just sitting on the cold bar swinging his legs, waiting for me to walk in. He looked at me with a creepy stare and asked, 'hey, can I get some coffee here?!'. I told him that we were closed but I could grind some coffee for him, maybe some Casi Cielo? He begrudgingly agreed before spilling over the next days mocha and (somehow) ripping up the one dollar bills in my register. Then all of a sudden there was a line of people out the door. The door had been left open! Oh no! And a whole bunch of hooligans had littered the lobby with crushed cold cups and lids, and left crumbs and pools of coffee on the tables! What was worse was that nobody else in the hotel seemed to notice and the valets just stood and smiled at me, holding up empty coffee cups and signaling for refills. Then, just when I had my back turned, the guy who was waiting for his ground coffee started throwing coffee stoppers at me! I made dozens of lattes and mochas only to have them all returned because nobody liked them. This sort of nonsense seemed to continue for awhile and included everything from cups being thrown at me, middle aged men yelling at me and old women fighting over the tip jar. The whole time me yelling 'we're CLOSED!'
I feel rested but my emotions are still recovering. A very strange sensation to awake abruptly to a news channel blaring and a strong feeling of indignation.
It's better than the one where Robert Pattinson was chasing me down a never ending staircase yelling 'but WHY don't you like me?! Why have you never seen any of my films?!' and me yelling 'it's not personal! Get a real job! This isn't going anywhere for you!'
My nap dreams are insane.
Nap dreams are intense because your body somehow realizes that you have an alarm set to go off in an hour or two so it figures if you're going to sleep, you're going to SLEEP. There's no messing around. It's serious business.
But I don't think I deserved to end up in the middle of a workplace nightmare right after leaving work, that's pretty low. In my dream I walked home which was up the hill, through a cornfield, and then what felt like several miles (in my dream) home. Then I realized that I forgot to return the keys to the shop and trudged back downtown, hat and apron still on. When I got there a guy was just sitting on the cold bar swinging his legs, waiting for me to walk in. He looked at me with a creepy stare and asked, 'hey, can I get some coffee here?!'. I told him that we were closed but I could grind some coffee for him, maybe some Casi Cielo? He begrudgingly agreed before spilling over the next days mocha and (somehow) ripping up the one dollar bills in my register. Then all of a sudden there was a line of people out the door. The door had been left open! Oh no! And a whole bunch of hooligans had littered the lobby with crushed cold cups and lids, and left crumbs and pools of coffee on the tables! What was worse was that nobody else in the hotel seemed to notice and the valets just stood and smiled at me, holding up empty coffee cups and signaling for refills. Then, just when I had my back turned, the guy who was waiting for his ground coffee started throwing coffee stoppers at me! I made dozens of lattes and mochas only to have them all returned because nobody liked them. This sort of nonsense seemed to continue for awhile and included everything from cups being thrown at me, middle aged men yelling at me and old women fighting over the tip jar. The whole time me yelling 'we're CLOSED!'
I feel rested but my emotions are still recovering. A very strange sensation to awake abruptly to a news channel blaring and a strong feeling of indignation.
It's better than the one where Robert Pattinson was chasing me down a never ending staircase yelling 'but WHY don't you like me?! Why have you never seen any of my films?!' and me yelling 'it's not personal! Get a real job! This isn't going anywhere for you!'
My nap dreams are insane.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
TONIGHT!
Sittin' in the classroom
Feel your heart goin' boom
You start to get the feelin
And your head begins a' reelin
And you can't hear what your teachers say-
Because the news is goin round
bout the rock and roll dance in town
And you know I just gotta hear that band play
-MC5
Me. Gardella's. Tonight. Might be extreme....just sayin'.
Feel your heart goin' boom
You start to get the feelin
And your head begins a' reelin
And you can't hear what your teachers say-
Because the news is goin round
bout the rock and roll dance in town
And you know I just gotta hear that band play
-MC5
Me. Gardella's. Tonight. Might be extreme....just sayin'.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
WHHhhhaaaaa?!?!
Kelsey has a free evening?! And doesn't have to wake up at five the next morning?!
This only can mean one thing. Me. Gardella's. I'll be the one sitting in a corner surrounded by my cigar smoke with a really classy drink in hand. Starting at 10pm it will be ON.
But what will I wear?!?
This only can mean one thing. Me. Gardella's. I'll be the one sitting in a corner surrounded by my cigar smoke with a really classy drink in hand. Starting at 10pm it will be ON.
But what will I wear?!?
Monday, February 15, 2010
When it rains...
...it pours.
Watch the Wire. Do it. Now. Go to the Blockbuster and get it. Now.
Seriously some of the best television I've ever seen.
Watch the Wire. Do it. Now. Go to the Blockbuster and get it. Now.
Seriously some of the best television I've ever seen.
Day at the Deli
I was just laying on my floor (more like collapsed) after exercising and had a very strange sequence of thoughts that led me to my deli days during the summer after senior year. Now this was the only full time gig available in my small town and so what's a broke girl to do but sign herself up, right? I think that my brain must have somehow recognized the inconsequential nature of this job and, therefore, retained none of it. I remember trying to not slice my fingers off, vaguely remember washing dishes and mopping, but nothing...crisply. Nothing except for my lunch breaks. My sacred lunches were spent with a sandwich, a stolen doughnut if I was lucky, and Terry Gross asking all the right questions to some very interesting people. I remember these lunches so vividly, down to the order in which I'd eat my food, some of the people I'd see walking by, and the vehicles stopped by the drive thru bank windows.
I guess the older you get the more you realize how tricky your memories are.
I guess the older you get the more you realize how tricky your memories are.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy.....hello online journal/thought bucket/garbage can, how I've missed you.
I'm really hungry but more than that I'm lazy...so here I sit. This is the first day I've had (relatively) to myself and I resented having to leave my warm abode for the obligatory yearly doctors appointment where you sit there for an hour in a drafty room wearing a drafty gown only to tell you that you're fine. I could've done that just fine by myself. But something tells me they're slightly more qualified.
I feel like my life is just one bubble that is only big enough to contain me and myself and one more thing might just make everything burst. I don't know. Maybe it would be my brain, my brain would burst and I'd be a medical mystery on one of those tv shows on the discovery channel. I would be honored. But I think I'm taking that too far. In short, I've been a busy gal.
Last night I piled blankets and pillows on my living room floor and drank ale and ate chips and salsa and watched the Wire. I didn't know what else to do with myself I mean, that's what I enjoy doing every other night of the week. It was just that images of happy couples going on dates and whatnot made for a depressing backdrop to my evening. It's not like I blame anyone, I'm not really feeling angry towards the day, it's just that you can't help but feel weird on Valentine's day. Hell, I felt weird on Valentine's Day when I had a Valentine. Maybe it's a genetic defect who knows? But it's over *phew* and even the happy couples have to get back to reality.
I don't think that being single ever really was a problem for me, not in the sense that I do it very well (you're an ass if that's what you were thinking), but in the sense that I'm at peace with it. I'll never understand the girls who can't be alone but jump from boyfriend to boyfriend seemingly indiscriminately. I mean, I like being alone, I could be a bonafide hermit if I didn't have to go to school or work. Not to imply I'm antisocial, just that it's not my life blood to be around people 24/7. However, there's been a part of me that wants to know where the hell they find them all and once they do, how do they...I don't know, boyfriendize them?
See, this is what Valentine's Day does to you. It makes you think about how weird it is that you're single and how you should try to solve that problem before next year rolls around. I'll work on it.
I'm really hungry but more than that I'm lazy...so here I sit. This is the first day I've had (relatively) to myself and I resented having to leave my warm abode for the obligatory yearly doctors appointment where you sit there for an hour in a drafty room wearing a drafty gown only to tell you that you're fine. I could've done that just fine by myself. But something tells me they're slightly more qualified.
I feel like my life is just one bubble that is only big enough to contain me and myself and one more thing might just make everything burst. I don't know. Maybe it would be my brain, my brain would burst and I'd be a medical mystery on one of those tv shows on the discovery channel. I would be honored. But I think I'm taking that too far. In short, I've been a busy gal.
Last night I piled blankets and pillows on my living room floor and drank ale and ate chips and salsa and watched the Wire. I didn't know what else to do with myself I mean, that's what I enjoy doing every other night of the week. It was just that images of happy couples going on dates and whatnot made for a depressing backdrop to my evening. It's not like I blame anyone, I'm not really feeling angry towards the day, it's just that you can't help but feel weird on Valentine's day. Hell, I felt weird on Valentine's Day when I had a Valentine. Maybe it's a genetic defect who knows? But it's over *phew* and even the happy couples have to get back to reality.
I don't think that being single ever really was a problem for me, not in the sense that I do it very well (you're an ass if that's what you were thinking), but in the sense that I'm at peace with it. I'll never understand the girls who can't be alone but jump from boyfriend to boyfriend seemingly indiscriminately. I mean, I like being alone, I could be a bonafide hermit if I didn't have to go to school or work. Not to imply I'm antisocial, just that it's not my life blood to be around people 24/7. However, there's been a part of me that wants to know where the hell they find them all and once they do, how do they...I don't know, boyfriendize them?
See, this is what Valentine's Day does to you. It makes you think about how weird it is that you're single and how you should try to solve that problem before next year rolls around. I'll work on it.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
My life has been taken over...
.....by art supplies. Got a color study going in pastel for a possible painting in the future. This is Edie Sr.
My living room has been flooded by projects lately, and....I kind of like it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Danielle Steel
"Don't tell me you've started to fall in love with me..."
I was just getting into this book when I had to pull the rope to get off the bus at the right stop. I was a little miffed because it seemed like things were going to get pretty interesting and I'd spent the last fifteen minutes with my head at exactly the right angle to read over this woman's shoulder. I'm sure she didn't mind though, I mean, she was the one who decided to light up right next to me at the bus stop so it was the least she could do. But she turned the page before I could finish the sentence. I need to find that book.
It's been a very long day. I woke up at 5am for my usual 6-noon shift and it was BUSY today. I was on register and after an hour of nonstop action everything started running together into a: triple grande nonfat no whip white mocha, quad venti iced upside down caramel macchiato with whip extra caramel drizzle, double tall nonfat iced latte. My favorite today was the, 'yes, I'll take a grande nonfat no foam cappuccino please'. Now sir, don't look at me like I'm not getting the picture when I try to explain to you that by definition a cappuccino is half milk half foam. There was a steady line of people out the door for almost two hours but we got through it! I like this job because if you're feeling like a people person, great, it's your turn on register. If you got out of bed on the wrong side and the last thing you feel like dealing with a squabble of twenty somethings who can't make a choice between right or left, you can be assured you won't be bothered on bar. For me it was one of those magical days where I could calmly manage anything that came my way including the customer mantra of "and could you...and also...don't forget the...I'll take....I need....". I wonder if I've earned my halo yet.
For every difficult customer there are plenty of customers that I adore. They walk in like rays of sunshine and you know what they're going to order and half the time I have it half finished before they even walk in. There's the grande nonfat, no whip, five pump white mocha who is the friendliest woman I've ever met in my life, who even gave us little gifts for Christmas! There's the mail guy who comes in once a week for his venti coffee no room and a chocolate donut. There's the triple venti skinny vanilla latte with a cheese danish. A very nice man who works across the way comes in twice a day for his triple venti 140 degree latte. An older gentleman who gave us these awesome caramel apples for Christmas, he gets the triple venti nonfat extra hot latte. I remember all of their drinks not strictly because they come in so often but because I feel honored to be a part of their daily ritual. It's not about what they pay for a drink, or what they tip us, and it's not because we're greedily sucking up to them for continued patronage. It's because of the time that they're waiting for their drink to be made, as I'm making their drink I'm hearing them talk about their day, sometimes it's been a good day, sometimes a bad day and they're venting to me, and in my hands I have the opportunity to make their day better.
I really like my job. People scoff at me sometimes, they view Starbucks as this corporate machine that spits out mediocre beverages at high prices. I guess it just depends on which Starbucks you visit because where I work we actually give a damn and we make damn good drinks. The end.
So I got out of work almost an hour later than intended, went to the bank, waited for the bus, did some grocery shopping, waited for the bus, walked home, sorted groceries, inhaled pb&j sandwich, physics class, and most importantly, enjoyed a two hour nap. Now I've got to get my butt off the couch and work on homework for however long I can stay awake. I'm putting money down on 1am, I've got this bottle of wine that I'm planning on breaking into to make the experience slightly more tolerable!
I've also compiled a list of annoying things that go down at bus stops:
- Stop asking me for the time every five seconds.
- Don't ask me for change. It makes me look like an ass when I'm holding a drink that I made to take from work and yet I can't scrounge up a quarter for you.
- Stop spitting! I don't know when this ritual began where all guys just stand around and spit at bus stops. Seriously, what's your disorder.
- Creepy dudes, enough said. I'm not standing here because I want to spend quality time with you.
- People who sing at bus stops.
- Unsupervised children. As much a I may begrudge you for making me unofficially responsible for your child, I'm not going to spite you by NOT grabbing onto the hood of your four year old's coat as he's making a mad dash for a busy intersection while you're showing off your new phone to your gal pal.
- Overly talkative people in general. I'm not bus stop therapy, and no, I do not want to see pictures of your cats.
Ugh, homework time. Off I go.
I was just getting into this book when I had to pull the rope to get off the bus at the right stop. I was a little miffed because it seemed like things were going to get pretty interesting and I'd spent the last fifteen minutes with my head at exactly the right angle to read over this woman's shoulder. I'm sure she didn't mind though, I mean, she was the one who decided to light up right next to me at the bus stop so it was the least she could do. But she turned the page before I could finish the sentence. I need to find that book.
It's been a very long day. I woke up at 5am for my usual 6-noon shift and it was BUSY today. I was on register and after an hour of nonstop action everything started running together into a: triple grande nonfat no whip white mocha, quad venti iced upside down caramel macchiato with whip extra caramel drizzle, double tall nonfat iced latte. My favorite today was the, 'yes, I'll take a grande nonfat no foam cappuccino please'. Now sir, don't look at me like I'm not getting the picture when I try to explain to you that by definition a cappuccino is half milk half foam. There was a steady line of people out the door for almost two hours but we got through it! I like this job because if you're feeling like a people person, great, it's your turn on register. If you got out of bed on the wrong side and the last thing you feel like dealing with a squabble of twenty somethings who can't make a choice between right or left, you can be assured you won't be bothered on bar. For me it was one of those magical days where I could calmly manage anything that came my way including the customer mantra of "and could you...and also...don't forget the...I'll take....I need....". I wonder if I've earned my halo yet.
For every difficult customer there are plenty of customers that I adore. They walk in like rays of sunshine and you know what they're going to order and half the time I have it half finished before they even walk in. There's the grande nonfat, no whip, five pump white mocha who is the friendliest woman I've ever met in my life, who even gave us little gifts for Christmas! There's the mail guy who comes in once a week for his venti coffee no room and a chocolate donut. There's the triple venti skinny vanilla latte with a cheese danish. A very nice man who works across the way comes in twice a day for his triple venti 140 degree latte. An older gentleman who gave us these awesome caramel apples for Christmas, he gets the triple venti nonfat extra hot latte. I remember all of their drinks not strictly because they come in so often but because I feel honored to be a part of their daily ritual. It's not about what they pay for a drink, or what they tip us, and it's not because we're greedily sucking up to them for continued patronage. It's because of the time that they're waiting for their drink to be made, as I'm making their drink I'm hearing them talk about their day, sometimes it's been a good day, sometimes a bad day and they're venting to me, and in my hands I have the opportunity to make their day better.
I really like my job. People scoff at me sometimes, they view Starbucks as this corporate machine that spits out mediocre beverages at high prices. I guess it just depends on which Starbucks you visit because where I work we actually give a damn and we make damn good drinks. The end.
So I got out of work almost an hour later than intended, went to the bank, waited for the bus, did some grocery shopping, waited for the bus, walked home, sorted groceries, inhaled pb&j sandwich, physics class, and most importantly, enjoyed a two hour nap. Now I've got to get my butt off the couch and work on homework for however long I can stay awake. I'm putting money down on 1am, I've got this bottle of wine that I'm planning on breaking into to make the experience slightly more tolerable!
I've also compiled a list of annoying things that go down at bus stops:
- Stop asking me for the time every five seconds.
- Don't ask me for change. It makes me look like an ass when I'm holding a drink that I made to take from work and yet I can't scrounge up a quarter for you.
- Stop spitting! I don't know when this ritual began where all guys just stand around and spit at bus stops. Seriously, what's your disorder.
- Creepy dudes, enough said. I'm not standing here because I want to spend quality time with you.
- People who sing at bus stops.
- Unsupervised children. As much a I may begrudge you for making me unofficially responsible for your child, I'm not going to spite you by NOT grabbing onto the hood of your four year old's coat as he's making a mad dash for a busy intersection while you're showing off your new phone to your gal pal.
- Overly talkative people in general. I'm not bus stop therapy, and no, I do not want to see pictures of your cats.
Ugh, homework time. Off I go.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
I'm supposed to be reading about the history of the Constitution but...I came to an important decision about my hair instead. I'm going back to this color scheme (only longer of course):
See, this is what happens whenever I have homework to do. Ugh. Homework. Blah.
Can't wait until Monday night. Half Pint night! Going to Founders, get me some ale! Lord knows I need a night off!
See, this is what happens whenever I have homework to do. Ugh. Homework. Blah.
Can't wait until Monday night. Half Pint night! Going to Founders, get me some ale! Lord knows I need a night off!
You Know...
You wake up and you're fine, you feel fine, you have all your limbs and everything seems fairly in order. The apartment is messy but it's your mess so it's fine, and you leave everything as is. It's a weird period of time when everything is fine..until you hear a song that the two of you used to listen to in the car or catch a glimpse of a favorite show that you used to watch together. You start to live your days like you're dodging land mines, sidestepping the pile of items that you need to return to him, a song on your playlist, and tbs on Tuesday nights.
I think that I'm to the point where all of that's stopped. Everything is fine because it IS. I have been fine and I will be fine and no more dodging.
"Baby steps, Bob"
I have a great life and I've been blessed in ways I never imagined. So to think I'd spend my days sulking is unacceptable!
I think that I'm to the point where all of that's stopped. Everything is fine because it IS. I have been fine and I will be fine and no more dodging.
"Baby steps, Bob"
I have a great life and I've been blessed in ways I never imagined. So to think I'd spend my days sulking is unacceptable!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Kelsey's Cure
I would rate tonight's walk a 9 out 10. The minus 1 being the icy sidewalks but I walked on the street since there's hardly any traffic up the hill on a Saturday night. I listened to Hole which took me back...to like, 9th grade. The album "Live Through This" is undeniably awesome despite how you may feel about Courtney Love....we won't go there. So I walked around for a little over an hour pausing every once in awhile to admire a half melted snow man or merely to gaze in wonder of what a beautiful night it is. It's slightly hazy and so still that you feel like you're looking at everything through a frosted filter, everything was glowing.
Tonight I'm going to go with my comforts. A whiskey club, chips and salsa, and "On the Waterfront". Marlon Brando's monologue gets me every time, I practically have it memorized. That movie has a very special place in my heart.
"You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charlie." *sigh*
Well, movie time it is.
Tonight I'm going to go with my comforts. A whiskey club, chips and salsa, and "On the Waterfront". Marlon Brando's monologue gets me every time, I practically have it memorized. That movie has a very special place in my heart.
"You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charlie." *sigh*
Well, movie time it is.
Friday, January 15, 2010
"I saved latin, what did you ever do?"
Tonight my only solace was chocolate, tea, and the movie “Rushmore”. I must say it had been far too long and the events that transpired and the subsequent headache and confusion merited it. It was a good choice for sure.
I forget how young I am sometimes. I take pride in the adult responsibilities that I’ve acquired over the years and I enjoy it when I can manage my days with ease. I marvel at how much I can fit into one day and how easy it becomes to juggle work, school, homework, people, and all the mundane tasks in between. I keep going and going, and before I know it there’s a day when it seems as if the universe conspires against me, and I feel like throwing up my hands and admitting that I’m a fraud of an adult. I’m a little girl playing dress up in her mother’s clothes.
Max Fischer reminds me that the confines of “adult life” need not always apply and that sometimes the greatest skill you can acquire is to be able to pretend that you’ve got everything under control. Or rather, the audacity to do so.
Now I’m not going to go into the movie. I’d be here for too long and sleep is far more precious at the moment. All I can say about it is that it’s unforgettable, endlessly quotable, and full of charm.
Herman: What’s the secret, Max?
Max: The secret?
Herman: Yeah, you seem to have it pretty figured out.
Max: The secret, I don’t know… I guess you’ve just gotta find something you love to do and then…do it for the rest of your life. For me, it’s going to Rushmore.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6Kl9Ab20IY&feature=related
I forget how young I am sometimes. I take pride in the adult responsibilities that I’ve acquired over the years and I enjoy it when I can manage my days with ease. I marvel at how much I can fit into one day and how easy it becomes to juggle work, school, homework, people, and all the mundane tasks in between. I keep going and going, and before I know it there’s a day when it seems as if the universe conspires against me, and I feel like throwing up my hands and admitting that I’m a fraud of an adult. I’m a little girl playing dress up in her mother’s clothes.
Max Fischer reminds me that the confines of “adult life” need not always apply and that sometimes the greatest skill you can acquire is to be able to pretend that you’ve got everything under control. Or rather, the audacity to do so.
Now I’m not going to go into the movie. I’d be here for too long and sleep is far more precious at the moment. All I can say about it is that it’s unforgettable, endlessly quotable, and full of charm.
Herman: What’s the secret, Max?
Max: The secret?
Herman: Yeah, you seem to have it pretty figured out.
Max: The secret, I don’t know… I guess you’ve just gotta find something you love to do and then…do it for the rest of your life. For me, it’s going to Rushmore.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6Kl9Ab20IY&feature=related
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