| I'm not dead yet! |
[Oct. 1st, 2008|04:01 pm] |
Hey guys, back from beyond with a heads up on my current little hobby. I'm doing a Halloween countdown blog (might expand it past Halloween, but its looking like just that for now).
http://lets-talk-about-this.blogspot.com/
Take a look-see (I'm doing an article a day), and if you think its decent, pass it along. I want people to read it and get all 'yay Halloween!'
And to entice some of you, an opinion piece tenuously titled 'George Romero plum lost his mind' will be on there as one of the entries. You all know its true.
Enjoy! And, help me come up with something to be this Halloween. I'm looking at Dazzler, 70's disco-era Dazzler. |
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| Why I hate My Job And Everyone There |
[Aug. 11th, 2007|04:16 am] |
Two more weeks at the Villa, and then no more. Thank God. Though once I leave, I don't know who will be left to backtalk at the boss's fat wife.
Seriously, morning people are supposed to have stuff done for the dinner shift. Not have me come in, and then be all 'Uh..... the lettuce came in late. So, I didn't do it.', while the other morning guy is shouting that the lettuce has been there since nine.
And nobody ever does a fucking thing. Tonight, about half hour to close, the waitresses give me six pint containers and say they need six pints of ranch dressing.
"We got like..... three."
"Well, then you have to make more! This is a [i]pre-order[/i]!"
Honestly, we dub our dressings as 'homemade', and for the most part they are. But in the case of ranch, 'homemade' in the sense that we mix a seasoning packet with mayo and buttermilk. So I have to make more '[i]yesterday[/i]' basically, because the people were there already, and since the old man was in the dining room, they couldn't just say we were out, while I was in the kitchen yelling at the dishwashers to get the mixer clean, and asking why these people couldn't grasp the concept of going to Sam's Club to buy Ranch dressing if you were having a party for sixty four people, as the dressing is the same basic thing [i]and[/i] cheaper. Also brought up was the fact that if the waitresses knew this pre-order was coming in, why none of them said anything before, or asked if we'd have enough ranch to fill an order like that.
So, as I'm trying to get it all set up, the hostess comes back and starts trying to ask me to make her and the busser some food
"I'm making fuckin' ranch dressing!" I shout mightily, furiously cranking the handle to raise the industiral mixing bowl "Ask one of the guys!"
I go through the kitchen to get my necessary buttermilk, and Nick stops me, waving a hand-writen ticket at me.
"Yo, you got an order!"
"You make it. I gotta make this motherfuckin' ranch dressing."
"But it's those people-"
"Just do this one thing for me, will you?"
Finally, as I start getting everything thrown in the mixer, Maria comes back, saying the people are getting restless for their remaining three dressings
"How much longer is this going to take? They've been waiting-"
"Just tell them we're making some up [i]fresh[/i]. From [i]scratch[/i]. I can't timetravel to make this get done any faster. Woulda helped if you guys had told me earlier."
So, I whip up the dressing super fast, cup it up, and off we go, giving me a second to look down, admire my handiwork, and notice I put too much buttermilk in the dressing mix while everybody was yelling at me about one thing or another.
Well, serves 'em right. Fuckers. Buy all your big party dressing needs at Sam's Club, or I'll probably fuck it up, most likely accidentally (but I make no promises).
After fixing the remaining dressing and getting everything cleaned up and containered, I go back into the kitchen, and see Nick and Korey just standing there.
"Got an order for those girls. Been up there a while." Nick nodded toward the hand-written ticket [i]still[/i] stuck up on the line. Apparently, nobody is willing to help a sista out. And of course they fucking wanted chicken fingers (ask about chicken fingers at the Villa if you want to incite my murderous rage). I half-assed the order and made myself a pancake.
Although, I did get a few cigarettes from Korey later when I went next door to pick up a few cans of Sparks and a pack of smokes for him.
But they were menthols.
Fuck you Polish Villa. You and your ranch dressing. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 13th, 2007|10:24 pm] |
I sent Fred Penner an e-mail (through his website) and he e-mailed me back.
Sad thing is, that has been the highlight of God only knows how long. Though he didn't answer my question as to whether or not the Word Bird is still around. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 18th, 2007|09:11 am] |
I present to you, the greatest picture ever (you've probably already seen it if you check facebook):
Not terribly flattering on my end, but my God look at Dapper Dan. Epitome of adorable right there.
We're eating a pizza crust, not a Hot Pocket.
In other news, it's definitely pink-eye. Goddamn it. I got in an argument with the woman on the phone when I went to make an appointment with UHS, because I wanted to make my appointment for tomorrow because I couldn't make it to the off-campus med-center today, and on-campus isn't taking appointments today for some reason. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 16th, 2007|01:50 am] |
I got word back today from the A/AH department head, finally. I got the NYC internship for next Spring.
One more semester of Rochester, and then I'm gone. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 3rd, 2007|05:22 am] |
"Oh, hey, and tell dad they raised tuition again. Dicks."
"Oh ho."
"Make sure you remember the 'dicks' part. That's essential."
Alright, another tuition increase. 5.3%. In the letter, they get all high horse over the fact that it's TOTALLY LESS THAN THE TUITION INCREASES FROM THE PAST TWO YEARS, GUYS.
Christ, do they want nobody to be able to afford college anymore? The letter basically says that 'welp, everybody else was doing it, so we did it too. It's comprable!'
Three years in a row with tuition increase. When I went on my campus tour, they said that they hadn't increased tuition in years.
Dicks. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 31st, 2007|04:18 am] |
Steve took me to a party. We played drinking games. I met this adorably adorable kid that I kept saying looked like Marty Biron (and he knew who Marty Biron was). I learned to play Guitar Hero. I met a rather cute guy from R.I.T.
Said cute guy proceeded to whip his cock out at me when we were behind the house having a smoke.
I hate this place. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 5th, 2007|03:57 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Sick, yet awesome | ] |
I put in my application for the NYC internship a few minutes ago. Wish me luck kiddles, I want to get out of Rochester soon.
No hair again. This time I shaved it because mom's starting to lose her hair from chemo. Otherwise she seems to be doing well, just kind of sickly and tired a lot from what it sounds like over the phone. She kind of flipped when I sent her the pic of me hairless, but I've done it before, and she did eventually admit it was sweet of me. I'm going to help her pick out a wig when I'm back in town. Oh ho.
I've got midterms and whatnot coming up this week. Two exams, a small paper, a problem set, and a paper for my Deaf film class. I was going to knock of the small stuff today and continure studying. But no, I end up with the flu and cough myself half to death and fall asleep at the computer for hours. Ah Christ, I just can't win.
And speaking of can't win, I met a guy at a dance party who came up to me strictly on the merit that I had no hair. He seemed okay at first, but after a while just got weird. I took off with my friends, gave him my number as a courtesy to escape, and never picked up the phone when he called, and deleted his voicemails without listening to them. Always the creepy guys. ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8) erebos, can I just run away with you? I'll wear that Royal Flush Gang outfit, and you can rub my scalp.
At least I managed to work my magic with my kids C-Dids and Julie. They have that whole 'Like each other but are convinced the other one only likes them as a friend' thing going on. Basically, Julie mentioned that she liked C-Dids, but thought he only liked her as a friend. I later ran into C-Dids when we dropped by Sig Nu, and asked him his stance, heard him say the same thing as Julie basically, and passed along my info. Later pulled Julie aside, spoke to her, and explained what I gleaned off of C-Dids. Got a favorable response, and passed it along to him. Though they're both kind of shy. Luckily, I am apparently magic when it comes to getting people to admit things to me, sometimes even if I don't ask. I feel all self-satisfied now. Sure, my personal life is shit and riddled with bizarre situations, but aww, I love those kids.
Oh, and the pic I sent to my mom, unser the cut (yes, I'm lame and signing 'I love you')
( Read more... ) |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 13th, 2007|01:06 am] |
Today I had to explain to my mother what The Shocker was (and I'm not talking about the Spider-Man villain).
I called her to see how her first dose of Chemo went today, and partway through the conversation, she drops this one me:
Mom: I think I saw an ASL related bumper sticker today. It had the index, middle, and pinkie fingers up, and the ring finger was tucked down by the thumb. You know what that means?
Me: .....That's..... that's not ASL, Mom.
Mom: Oh, well, what is it then?
Me: I, ah, I'd rather not explain.
Mom: Oh, go ahead.
Me: Okay well..... how do I put this inoffensively?
Mom: Just tell me, it can't be that bad.
Me: Well, okay. That's called The Shocker. It's um..... well, if somebody's fooling around with a girl, they can do that..... the two fingers get jammed up their..... hoohah, and I'm sure you can figure out the rest.
Mom: Oh, well..... I see.
Me: Yeah. See why I didn't really want to explain?
God, that was awkward. Especially since I worded it like I was talking to a third-grader. Oh Mom. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 6th, 2007|09:22 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  discontent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Iron Blue Intention | ] |
Welp, I have a date Thursday night, and I seriously don't want to go through with it. I can only hope he finds me brutish and uninteresting, so I won't have to let the poor kid down as politely as possible.
And I really need to quit being such an affection monger when I'm drunk. Really now. |
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