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Well, here's how it goes:

Friday I worked at the restaurant all day, both shifts. Got off around eight and went to a strip club. And for the record, no, this is not what I usually do, I haven't been there in at least a month. B likes to go with his friends and at this point, it's more that I'd rather go with them than stay home by myself. And there's a girl there named Ariel who yes I understand that she is working is really very friendly to me and is usually good for some interesting conversation. She always remembers my name, too :P

Then Saturday I worked during lunch and came home and slept for a bit, and was woken up by a phonecall from Erica, who, just kinda nonchalantly wanted to know if she could come over. I was like, where are you? And she was like, 9th street, lol. So I just explained to her how to get to this house from the old house, and over she came. I got dressed and we went out for dinner at this little place on the island (my town is dry so none of the restaurants serve alcohol) and then crossed the bridge so we could go somewhere else for some drinks, and she called a bunch of her friends and it was kind of like a "girls night out" or whatever.

She slept on my couch, I went to work at Wawa, then went to work at the restaurant (but only for like four hours) and came home and went to sleep, and then woke up and tried to catch up on some of my TV shows. I got through all my back episodes of Sarah Conner Chronicles and watched one episode of House, but I'm still behind on that one.

And now that I've kind of wound down from the excitement of seeing Erica again and knowing that she's obviously okay, I'm kinda pissed. Not so much at her but at me, I mean, I could have been like, "yeah, way to return my phonecalls and let me know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere" but I wasn't, I didn't even bring it up.

I guess I didn't want to start a fight. I know I can be a bitch sometimes but she's pretty hot-headed too, and I was so glad to see her I just didn't even want to go there. I feel like I should have, though.

So I dunno if she was just passing through or what. I didn't even ask.
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The Stupid Work Shoes Saga Continues

So. Tonight at work I said something to Vicky, my GM, about how I went out and got black shoes at Rich, the other manager's, request. She said she knew full well I wasn't wearing "regulation" shoes and was totally unconcerned about it. In other words, I really don't need to wear non-slip shoes and Rich was just being an asshole to me. She said she was willing to let my shoes go and that it wasn't a major concern because I don't go in the kitchen. Just like I originally said. So I'm pissed.

Attention Car Owners: Gimme Advice

Ok, so, what do I do if my car freezes shut? Really. It's not so much that I don't know how to drive - I do know how to drive. I have a license and everything. Yes, I did wreck a car, but I'm not going to repeat that situation again. It's just that I don't know how to be a driver. I drove for a few months when I was a teenager - and I had my parents breathing down my neck the whole time. I drove for maybe six months when I lived with my mom when she was sick - that's pretty much it. So, excuse me for not being the expert.

What do I do if my car door freezes shut? Last night after work I just went back inside the restaurant and got a cup of hot water from the coffee machine and poured it on the door. And if I wasn't somewhere with a coffee machine? Then what would I do? And what about when the lock is frozen? I scorched my key with a lighter - is that going to eventually mess up my key, or is that the correct solution?

And... my tires. So, I had a flat tire. Cause I ran smack into the side of the curb. Are new tires automatically going to lose a little air, and I just need to put more air in them and they'll be fine, or when I blew my tire out did it mess up the wheel somehow and the new tire is going to go flat too? Cause my tire is halfway to flat again. Normal, or no?

My Harry Potter Fic Is Freakin' Awesome

I've got about thirty Word pages of random scenes from this fic I've imagined. I'm... kinda starting to obsess over this, but, at the same time, I've been on the off-side of the HP fandom for so long and it's been a long while since I've read the actual books, that my canon knowledge is hazy at best. So it's official, I am doing a series re-read. I don't own the books - I don't own many books at all, cause I move too much and books are a pain to lug around. But I do drive (see, there was a reason I shelled out the money for this car insurance nonsense) so I can go sit in the bookstore and read them. Meaning instead of sitting around in my awful house, I can sit around in the bookstore. With a purpose. So... maybe I'll post my re-read observations. That's be cool, eh?

Worst Girlfriend EVAR

So, being that it's winter, B's other job, which in the summer is landscaping, is now snow removal. He still works for the same guy, he just does a slightly different job. And since there's been a lot of snow... well, he's been pretty sore and tired. And I give a decent massage if I do say so myself. I don't much like to get massages - I'm not very comfortable with anyone putting their hands all over me. It takes me a while to actually relax and enjoy it, if I ever actually get to the part where I just relax in the first place. But I'm always sore and tired too, pretty much, so B and I spent the day just laying around at his house and watching Dating On Demand. Yes really. We just sat there watching all the videos and commenting on who we would and would not go out with, why, and what kind of date it would be and what our expectations would be and etc.

So... yeah. I discuss dating others completely without reservations... with my boyfriend. Yeah. Yep. Go on and on about who is and isn't my type and who is a good date for fun and who is a good date for a few months and who I'd fall head over heels with... who am I kidding? Are we really boyfriend and girlfriend, or what? I dunno. It didn't seem odd at the time, not at all, not one bit. But it kinda does now. Well... whatever, I guess. Neither of us is lying to the other, so... I guess we're doing it right?
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Ok so, first off, today it's been snowing all day long. I mentioned I suck at driving? I suck at driving. But driving is, ultimately, a good thing, so, I'll just have to keep doing it until I get better at it. Driving in the snow is... not really that intimidating to me. I have had no issues whatsoever thus far.

I went to the store and bought a pair of cheap non-slip black sneakers with black laces. At least I could try them on... but they're gonna come apart inside, I can totally tell. What a waste of 25 bucks, seriously. I ordered real leather lace-up shoes, too, in like four different sizes, and I'll send back the ones that don't fit, but they take three days to ship. Whatever, at least I could go to work today without getting written up again and sent right back home.

Those shoes though... I guess it sounds kind of silly but they're weird to walk in because I'm so used to my other shoes. My other shoes are really heavy, and these sneakers are really light, and it threw me off for like an hour before I really got a feel for them. Go me. I really wanted to make a case for not having to wear non-slip shoes - like I said, I don't go in the kitchen, so I'm never on tile anyway and can't slip on the carpets, so what's the point? But I know what the answer to that would be - I knew when I got hired what the uniform was, and blah blah blah. I could have gotten black shoes then, and probably no one would ever have known if they were non-slip or not, and all would have been fine. I was just being stubborn I guess.

And anyway today my manager just asked me if they were non-slip and I said yes. I've seen him make other people show him the bottoms of their shoes, but, I mean, seriously, he's got to know that I can't pick my foot up to show him anyway. But really, I was only at work for two hours anyway, because I ended up getting sent home early because of the weather. So - TOTALLY POINTLESS of me to buy those sneakers.

Whatever, I'm over that.

I've been sleeping at B's a whole lot lately. I try not to leave my stuff over there, cause I don't want to be that girl, but I've kind of been doing it anyway. He said it's okay, but I still feel kinda bad.
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Ok so after my job finished cracking down on unnatural hail and piercings - so no more pink hair for me, and no wearing the lip ring, whatever, I dyed my hair black, it's fine - we have now moved on to cracking down on uniform standards. Apparently our khakis must have creases down the middle. Whatever, I don't even own an iron. And no, I don't have those self-creasing pants. No one is allowed to wear the red shirts anymore - black polo shirts only, red polos are no longer part of the uniform. Black socks - this has always been the rule, and I have always totally ignored it. I figured no one would dare ask me to show my socks. And up until now, not once single person ever has.

Well, today, it just so happened that I was wearing black socks, and my manager Rich, the one I don't like anyway, said he had to see my socks, and so, I rolled my eyes and pulled up my pantleg, showing my black socks. However... this drew attention to the fact that my shoes are dark green. This is so not allowed.

Black shoes only. Black shoes with black laces. Must have non-skid soles. When I got hired I contested this, saying as a hostess there was no reason to ever be in the kitchen, and I, personally, never intended to ever go in the kitchen for any reason (and I never, ever do) but I was told it was the policy and everyone had to follow it. I promptly ignored this, and no one ever said a word to me.

Words have now been said. Now I'm not allowed to come back to work unless I have black shoes with non-stick soles.

I'm so irritated I don't even know where to start. I don't even know who I'm more pissed at, myself, for knowing I needed black shoes and just never getting any, or my job for having such a stupid rule to begin with. Yeah right any guest ever noticed that my shoes are green. Yeah right they actually care.

I can get cheap K-mart/Wal-mart/Payless non-skid shoes, which I don't want because they're cheap and probably suck, or I can order expensive ones from a catalogue, meaning I can't try them on, and have to wait for them to be delivered. And of course, since I actually got sent home from my shift, I can't just show up with green shoes again because now every manager is going to be paying attention to what's on my feet.

Sheesh.
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I guess because of the election my work was really busy. It was a really hectic day all day and didn't let up until the very end of the night. I spent almost nine hours taking names and calling names, being the coordinator. It's kind of monotonous - I just stand behind the podium and tell people how long the wait is (and they argue with me nine out of ten times. It's rare that I say a time and they just say, okay) and I listen over the headset for what tables are open and call names accordingly, and then call for other hosts over the headset to come take people to their seats.

And I get so much shit - like I said, people argue with me non-stop. I say the wait is forty-five minutes, and sure enough the person I'm talking to says to me "oh it's not really that long, it'll be shorter than that, won't it?" Well, no, it won't, or I would have said so, but, see, they're trying to trick me, they're trying to get me to say, well, maybe it will be shorter, so then they can say that it took too long for them to be seated and they want to eat for free. Or I get people who say, well, what about the smoking section? Is that a shorter wait? (There is no smoking in the whole building...) Well, we'll take a table, what's the wait for a table? (As opposed to what, exactly? The floor?) Well, I have children. (Okay, here are some crayons... seriously, you think because you're out with your kids and they're hard to control, you don't have to wait in line?) Well, I'm here with my elderly parents, they don't really have to wait, do they? My father can't stand here in the lobby, he's old, blah blah blah - SORRY, BUT, you STILL HAVE TO WAIT. I don't CARE what your story is. I cannot just snap my fingers and produce a vacant table for you, and I certainly am not bumping you in front of every other person who has been sitting here staring me down from the minute I told THEM how long the wait is.

And I get shit from my coworkers, too. )

And I'm so sick of that job anyway I just want to scream.
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"Kate, do you know what time it is?"

(Kate is a server who thinks everyone who isn't a server or is a new server is clearly an idiot.)

"Why? Are you saying I'm late? Why would you ask me that?"

"I don't think you're late. I just wondered if you know what time it is."

*shakes head in disgust* "I don't know what you're talking about."

She started walking away from me and I hollered after her that it's Daylight Savings today, and she stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, blinking, and then said she thinks her boyfriend (who was the opening) must have come to work at eight this morning instead of nine.

Sigh. I don't know why everyone always thinks I'm talking nonsense... I'm usually right... really, I am...

I did know it was daylight savings today, but only because I was playing Rock Band with B and his friends last night and one of them reminded everyone.

Cut cause I ramble, of course I do, I so totally ramble... )

But I didn't say all that. I just said both my parents speak English.
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So... I am supposed to be at work right now.

I'm not. I'm at home.

I worked last night and I worked this morning/afternoon, but finally I asked around to see if anyone would stay and work my shift tonight - Kimmy, my faithful non-stupid hostess buddy, eventually agreed. She really didn't want to, but something along the line changed her mind.

Me and B work together, see. And, to put it clearly and concisely, neither of us is dealing with the other very well right now. The awkwardness... I can feel it... suffocating me...

Ok ok I admit it, I am overdramatizing here. I'm not suffocating. But it's like I don't even want to look at him, I just want to do my job and not think about him, but he's right there, and he's not looking at me either, and when we have to talk to each other it's just like... nails on a chalkboard or something.

But I had a nice time in Philly with Krissy and D. We went out to dinner with D and his friend, but he went home right after because he was having trouble breathing. Krissy and I were not at each other's throats nor were we particularly awful to each other in any way. It was actually pretty nice spending time with her. I mean, I like her. I've always liked her. We get along. And she's known me for years - she's been around (if not flat out there for me) through a lot of shit. Even if we're a terrible couple, even if sometimes I don't want to talk to her or have anything to do with her, she's still a good friend.

I didn't tell Krissy a single thing about me and B, though, because I just don't want to hear what she has to say about any of that.

Which is kinda funny because she's one person who's opinion I really trust.

I just didn't want to hear it.

Instead we had a big long discussion about me coming back to Philadelphia. Not about us getting back together, or ever dating ever again - I kind of got the impression that she's involved with someone anyway. It was more like... big sister advice or something (Krissy is four years older than I am, so that's kind of fair...)

I took a great big gamble and I'm still not sure if I'm winning or not )

And of course the only coffee shop is... the one I got fired from...

I don't know, I'm just feeling totally stuck here. The plan was always that I'd just stick it out. It wouldn't be fun and I wouldn't enjoy it, but in the end, it would be worth it, because I'd have two income properties to show for it. Now I think I'm at the point where I don't have to choose between the two. And one of the main reasons I couldn't stay in Philly to begin with was that it cost too much to live there. I wouldn't have that problem now because... right, I have the income from upstairs, and by next summer, I'll have at least the income from upstairs and down here, even if the other house isn't ready.

So... I don't have to stay... do I?
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Yes, as you can tell I am very mature.

One day, perhaps, I will get over my amusement with switching the hyphen from before "ass" to after it.

Today is not that day.

Long-ass entry, my friends, for I have a lot to say. )

So now I can accuse Bevan of making me sick.

Or, I have made him sick.

Either way. Sick sucks.

And thats... what's been up.

Yep.
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(2 Points) What work do I do?: I am a hostess in a very busy restaurant that serves somewhat substandard food and has a bar that stays open for late night drinking and snacking and such. It's probably the worst job I've ever had - doesn't pay terrible - I'd say it's about fifteen dollars an hour, really, because I make an hourly rate and then get a percentage of the sales for the evening as well. Also, usually I will roll silverware and fill sugars for the servers and they each give me a few dollars, and so I take home a little bit of cash as well. When I worked for the Coffee Co. I made minimum wage - but I liked that job better.

When I lived in Philly I worked in a print gallery and frame shop. I made about the same amount of money and that was a really, really great job. I wish I hadn't have had to leave it because I liked it so much, and I wish I could be more confident that coming here was the right thing to do. I've run out of money - I don't have any in the bank and I've maxed out my credit cards. Soon summer will be over and I won't have the income of renting my upstairs every week - I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to make my bills every month on just this one job, and I still have repairs to do on the first floor of this house, not to mention furniture and stuff to buy if I want to rent both floors out next summer. It's got me pretty nervous and pretty on edge here, but I guess I just have to wait. I have to wait until the other house is zoned, and then I have to wait to be approved for another loan. If anything goes wrong with those two things, then I guess that would be the time to start panicking.

I've had other jobs - I worked in another restaurant that was more of a fine dining type place. I was a hostess there as well. I worked for an inventory company and would go to stores and count stuff in the middle of the night while they were closed. I worked in another art gallery, and I worked at the front desk of a hotel. When I was in college I worked in the dean's office for like one semester. In Philly I worked for a coffee shop too. I worked for an after school program at an art studio for a while - I really liked that job too but I had to leave because my parents needed me at home. Sometimes I didn't work. When I was a teenager I worked at a drugstore first as a cashier and then putting UPC codes into the computer system in the warehouse. My first job was working at the drive-thru at McDonald's.

Of all these jobs, the one I have now is the most trying and the most frustrating. You think I drink a lot? My job drives me to it.

I don't really drink a lot - I really am not supposed to and honestly, I don't even like to. It's more of a social thing - it just seems weird to me to be writing about how often I go out drinking when I'm not doing all that much drinking to begin with. I just like to unwind at the end of the night with other people, that's all.
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So, a couple things I want to write about, here, one being one of the lj comms I'm on. I started a livejournal for the comms. I wrote in it, yeah, like one day a month or something, but it was really just to participate in the comms. Fandom stuff, some, and other things that just had to do with life, like art and photography and things like that. One comm I've been reading for a while is [livejournal.com profile] poor_skills (which I did mention the other day) and it can be a little infuriating how self righteous people can be about how much they're willing to sacrifice to be cheaper than everyone else in existence... but there's a lot of good information on that comm, especially for someone like me who often finds myself in situations where I'm like, uh oh, didn't expect this one, what do I do, I know, I'll call my mom, she knows, oh wait, not speaking to her, huh, wonder how I sort this one out? And so on.

So there's this girl who's been posting there a lot and it seems she's out of work because she broke her leg. Okay, so, she doesn't know what to do because she can't work because she's hurt, and she's trying to deal with having no income. Great. Okay, so [livejournal.com profile] poor_skills is a good place to get some pointers. Fine. But I've found myself, tonight, just wanting to shake her. Or at least leave her a nasty comment. Which I'm not going to do, because it's probably not a good idea, but... really? Really, she can't cook, because she's on crutches? Really? Really?

HAS IT REALLY NEVER OCCURRED TO THE GIRL TO SIT ON A DAMN STOOL?

I mean, seriously, I swear I am no type of supergimp. I am so far from that. I don't cook often, because I think it's a pain in the ass cooking for one person, and I never feel like doing the dishes anyway so my solution is just not to use them, and yes, that is called being very lazy, but... I can cook. I can cook really well. It never occurred to me to think, ok, I can't cook because I'm on crutches, I have to keep my hands on them or I fall down (her words, not mine) so I have to eat only things that don't need to be prepared, because I can't cook.

Obviously I'm just being really unsympathetic here. Which is why this is here on my personal journal and not on the comm. And yeah, pretty much all aspects of life are harder when you can't stand up on your own. But harder doesn't have to mean impossible. Really. It doesn't.

Moving along, more of the same and a little bit different, I did say I went to the beach, right? )

I really miss living near public transportation. I really, really do. I miss living in the city. I don't like having a car and I don't like driving and I'm the worst driver ever.

And that's... yeah, that's about it, that's all I got for tonight.

Oh. Oh, there is the fact that I hate my job. I really, really hate my job and I fantasize every day about telling off every stupid, condescending, self-entitled customer and then getting fired. I can't wait.
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I still can't believe I went to a strip club and I still can't believe how much I enjoyed it, despite being uncomfortable with being there...

That's not the source of my dissatisfaction.

So today I came home from work (I took the trolley, cause Erica did not come pick me up, cause 'we're fighting.' We have spoken since last week - it just didn't go well. Whatever. She is under no obligation to come pick me up from work every week anyway.) and went upstairs to clean up after the weekend's renters. The new ones are up there already right now. I've been really, really lucky at how well people have been keeping the place. I'm kinda scared every time I go up there that I'm going to find something missing or trashed or otherwise horrible. Basically the worst think I've encountered has been food left in the fridge. I think people leave stuff in there cause they think they're doing the next occupants a favor (or they rationalize not wanting to throw stuff out that way) but really, I can't leave it in there - you wanna rent a shore house for the week and find stuff already in the fridge? That's just nasty. But I hate throwing food away.

Strangely, beer never seems to get left behind :P

With the exception of that mystery Guinness, that is.

I was planning on then coming back down here and cleaning my own house - I really need to do that. I've been telling myself that I can live however I want, I live alone, it's not like I have a room mate who's desires for cleanliness need to be respected. It's not like it's so filthy down here that the board of heath is going to stamp and "unlivable" notice on my front door (kinda like what's posted on the door of my other house, the one I'm still stalled on fixing up because of local county BS...). If I don't mind the mess, then what's the big deal, right?

At first it was kinda relaxing not having to worry about making a mess and picking stuff up. Daniel used to be literally psycho about that kind of thing. He would throw my stuff out if I left it out. He'd do stuff like, if I left dishes in the sink he'd wake me up and make me go wash them RIGHT THEN or omg the world was going to end. I don't need to be that extreme. But seriously, people have been coming to my house a whole lot more than I ever expected, and I'm starting to understand why: one, I live right next to the beach. Two, I live alone, so there's no parents or room mates to wake up or annoy. Once people realized that I live alone and that I own this house, they seem to be really into coming over. I still don't know what to think about the percentage of people I know around here who live with their parents. My opinion on that is still pending.

I didn't clean up down here. I went to sleep instead - I just woke up.

And the complete dissatisfaction I'm feeling is in reference to my job. My jobS. Both of them. )

Ok, I'm about ranted out now, sorry for that.

What does it say about me that I intend to spend my evening reading SPN fanfic while watching SPN?
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So yesterday I came home from work (coffee co) and flopped down on my couch fully intending to fall asleep and stay asleep until I woke up again. This was around ten in the morning. I sort of drifted off - wasn't really sleeping but wasn't really awake either.

My phone rings. I'm like, blllleeeeeghhhhh? And I answer it, begrudgingly, because it's work (restaurant) calling me. My manager Vicki asked me to come in and work the lunch shift and I said I couldn't because I had no ride. Which was true, but also, I had my heart set on sleeping for the afternoon.

Apparently she had been calling people all morning to come in for lunch, because there were a couple graduations yesterday and she was afraid she didn't have enough people scheduled to handle the increased business that could possibly result. She told me she already called Bevan to come in and he said he could pick me up.

Plotting against me you see.

And she was right, it was a very, very busy shift. Pretty exhausting, actually. Did I mention I don't like that job?

Also, Bevan brought me a coffee when he came to get me :P

And so I did not get to sleep like I wanted to.

And then after work I went to Erica's house and we stayed up, oh, pretty much all night talking. That girl can talk like no one else I've ever met. And it's not the boring kind of talking, either - we're deep in conversation and then all of a sudden hours have passed.

So that's pretty cool. But what I should have done was gone back home and gotten some sleep, cause I'm missing it right about now.

And... my shoulder hurts. My back hurts. A lot. My jaw is sore. That is a new one. I don't really even want to be sitting here typing, but not doing anything is about as intolerable as doing something, so at least this way I'm distracted

What I needed to do yesterday, that I did not do because I was busy making extra money and hanging out with Erica, was clean up the upstairs for the next renters and wash the sheets and stuff - I didn't do that. I haven't done that yet. I need to do that now. Like, tonight. Except for I feel like shit.

Oh well.
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So work last night was just... weird. I was in a kind of space-y mood, I guess, since my mind was definitely still in Philly with Krissy. I was sitting at the employee table waiting for my shift to start (I was kind of early) and Bevan sat down next to me to count his money from lunch, and he was like, "So, how was the booty call?"

I had told him, see, about how I was going to visit my ex, and how I was kind of unsure why exactly she wanted to see me so badly, and he said it sounded like a booty call. I said it didn't sound like that to me, but if that's all it was, I was game for that too.

It was not a booty call. And I told him that. So I got to be right. He asked me a little more about how it went, but as much as I wanted to talk about it with somebody, I was afraid that if I started talking about it I would just start unloading all of it right then and there, and I don't want to dump all that shit on him. So I just said that love sucks and so does breaking up, even a year after the fact, and that I really should have just stayed here and told her I didn't see the point in us seeing each other.

And then to keep him from asking me anything else I asked him how him and Jury are doing, and he said something about her turning down a summer internship thing up at Penn State because she wanted to spend the summer here, and I was like, oh shit, thats... stupid... isn't it?

Isn't it, though? She was offered an internship and turned it down so she could spend the summer with her boyfriend? And of course I can't really think about her without thinking how her boyfriend cheated on her while she was away - that didn't really bother me at all at first (although the whole situation did, and still does) but now that she's around, yeah, it does bother me. He cheated on her, and that's pretty dirty, and I like him, he's an awesome person, but at the same time, how awesome can he be if he'd cheat on his girlfriend...

This is why I don't support long distance relationships, you see. Or any relationships at all, come to think of it.

Anyway. Bevan didn't think it was stupid of her to turn down the internship.

More work stuff, some ranting, and some of me getting all offended by stuff )

I've got some other rant-worthy shit going on at that job, and I've got some lovely "but isn't this Starbuck?" stories from my other job, too, but I'll save all that for another time, I think I've worked myself into a tizzy enough here.

Erica invited me over to "lay out" with her sometime this weekend - I am dubious about that, for several reasons. It's not that I don't want to hang out with Erica - clearly she does not find me "annoying" being that she has called me several times since we last hung out, which was only Monday anyway. I am not opposed to trying to get a suntan or anything, but I don't own a bathing suit and I have no intentions of wearing one anyway, so it might be pretty miserable and hot and sticky and nasty sitting out in the sun all day wearing... clothes. Even if I'm wearing some spiffy skimpy top, I'd say I'd probably get intolerably hot anyway. And knowing me, probably not drink enough water and get dehydrated too, or something stupid like that.

I dunno, just laying around in the sun trying to get a tan is not really something it has ever occurred to me to do, although I know people do it all the time. I'll have to think about this one a bit.

I'm not much good at hanging out with girls... I know, it sounds horrible, because I am a girl, but all the things I can think of that I might suggest we do instead are either sounding to me like a date, like "hey lets get dinner and see a movie" or are totally cliche "girl time" things, like "oh let's go to the mall and go shopping!"

...but I would definitely enjoy a trip to the mall. I've been trying to get to the mall for, like, months and months and months. But maybe she doesn't want to shop. She has no job, maybe she has no money, and that's why she wants to lay around outside, cause it's free. Hey, I don't have any extra money either, and here I am getting all excited at the prospect of spending what I don't really have. GO ME!

Girly stuff like... we could play with each other's hair - girls do that together, right?

Ok I'm stopping this, this is just getting too bizarre. Maybe she would like to watch Doctor Who with me, I'll put some eps on my laptop and bring it with me, or see if she wants to come over here. She doesn't seem to be much into sci-fi but a lot of people have been grabbed by New Who cause it's just that good, even if they're not really the sci-fi type.

Hm. I'll have to think on that one too.
exhilaration: (Default)
So I've had this journal for quite some time now. I had another one before this one. But I think I'm finally in the journal groove now, because when things happen part of my brain thinks "oh I can livejournal this."

For example I woke up this morning from a dream that left me a little disoriented and disturbed and thought, "hm, this would be interesting to livejournal."

Then, this afternoon, I went to the supermarket. I haven't been in the supermarket in months. I get my groceries delivered, thanks. Except today, I felt like being spontaneous and the trolley is running so it was actually possible for me to go. Even though I hate the supermarket anyway. And the whole time I was there I was like, "hm, this wouldn't be bad to livejournal."

Then SOMETHING HAPPENED at the supermarket, and I was like, screw everything else that happened, I'm livejournalling THIS ONE.

Then I went to work tonight and was like, you know, this is worth livejournalling.

LOL. I have a lot to say, but of course now that my day is totally over I'm just exhausted, and that includes my journalling skills as well. I don't think I can pull of such a clever and well put together entry as I had been planning to.

No matter. Pick your poison:

My dream )

And I was like, "damn, I'm livejournalling that dream. Who else has dreams like that?" So, yeah. My body plays trick on me even when it's just my dream-body, I guess, and leaves me waking up all kinds of disoriented.

The supermarket )

I told you I hate the supermarket. I knew one day I would livejournal my supermarket issues. In fact I should do it every single time I go. Just to prove that it's always miserable. Every. Single. Time.

THE OTHER THING )

I am very bad at distinguishing the difference between flirting and friendliness. I have identified this as a problem and am making an effort to alter this. Erica was not flirting with me. She was merely being friendly, and friendly is good, because I need friends.

My job )

And that's really all there is to it, folks, I've now gotten all of my saved up inner monologuing out of my system. Ain't it great?
exhilaration: (Default)
Ok, well, time to assess what just may have been a poor decision on my part:

Two jobs, Lara? Really, two?

Well, yeah, two. I've got expenses, you know. I've got a huge-ass loan I'm making payments on - the way I try to justify this to myself is I've got to think of it like paying a mortgage: that is a loan, is it not? Well, I own this house, but the loan was necessary to make it possible to actually live in this house. I have credit card debt - I'm not exactly trying to pay it off, per se, because a good portion of it is all house-related things that I put on the credit card with the theory of "needing to have money to make money." I have... unpaid medical bills, too, of course - I owe money all over the damn place, and it's expensive to keep up with it all.

I have to pay the electric bill and the internet bill and the phone bill, and you know, besides that, I do buy groceries and stuff, too. I'm really bad at eating, but really, I do try to do that too. It's good for you. I have to pay people to drive me around, too - and honestly, I'm paying less than I'd be paying for gas and insurance and registration anyway. Especially for insurance. I'm expensive to insure, because I'm such a shitty driver to begin with.

SO YES. TWO JOBS.

I babble. I don't know why I even posted all this crap )
exhilaration: (doctor who)
Well, I have now returned to my own house. Meaning I slept elsewhere last night :P

At one point I was practically a professional couch hopper, but it's been a while since I decided that I was getting too old for that shit. But this is different, I promise :P

Work has been really busy these last few days. Business is really starting to pick up around here, all at once, it looks like. Which is great. The busier the restaurant, the more money I make in tip-share. So basically it's like getting a raise, and, besides that, I get to work longer shifts. And the boardwalk store is opening next week, and so I'll be done with this stupid 5am-7am crap and be back to my regular 5am-11am, or some semblance of that.

So, my weekend has been crazy-busy )

So... me and Bevan had a sleep over :P

And so I downloaded Doctor Who and watched it, and, hmmmm.

Skip the personal shit and go right to the good stuff )
exhilaration: (impossible things)
Is it "turd" or is it "terd?" My spell check doesn't seem to recognize either one.

Whatever.

I've been sitting here staring at the wall and thinking really intently. It's that kind of night, yes it is.

So there's this girl I work with (restaurant) and I like her.

I don't mean I have a crush on her or anything. She's just a nice person. I have nothing against her, in fact, I rather like her.

She's one of those very, very, almost-sickeningly-sweet types, and I used to despise her because she seemed so fake. But it's not fake. And yeah, she might be annoying sometimes, but I gotta give her credit where credit's due: at least she's genuine. And most people aren't

She can be kind of clueless at times. I try to clue her in on things when I can. She usually doesn't listen to me. I try to pull the "older, wiser, let me explain life to you" thing with her once in a while, but it never seems to stick. She talks about her life all the time, and the boys she likes, and not getting along with her mom, whatever, the girl's a teenager. She's just being a regular teenage girl.

Of all the other idiots I have to work with, I'd take her any day.

So I've got a whole lot to say tonight. It's not all about her, but I think I'm going to start with her. Well, really I'm going to start with me. This is MY journal, after all. )

Hmmm. I could drunk dial my ex right now... bet she would think that was fab.

But I won't, because that would be pathetic. I wonder if she thinks I'm mean, though.

Well, she probably does. Well, she thinks I'm incredibly selfish and I can't really argue with that.

That's kinda like mean, isn't it?

So

May. 2nd, 2008 05:49 pm
exhilaration: (Default)
So I got written up at work (restaurant) for not coming in the other night.

Which totally wasn't my fault.

I hate that shit. I hate having to rely on other people to drive me around. And I hate getting in trouble. I hate trying to make excuses for why I did something wrong - I did something wrong, I didn't come in to work and didn't call until about a half hour before my shift started. So yes, of course I'm in the wrong, even though it wasn't my fault, and I still feel all pissed and defensive and just generally shitty about it. I hate getting in trouble. I was the kid who cried when she got her name put on the board in elementary school. Seriously.

So now I've been written up at the coffee co for being on my phone behind the counter, and written up at the restaurant for not showing up for my shift. When the only reason I was on the phone in the first place was because Renee wouldn't let me leave, even though I wasn't even supposed to be working in the first place, and I missed my ride to my other job and I was calling to tell them why I wasn't there.

Why am I completely unable to be a regular old reliable person? Why must I constantly screw everything up? These are simple jobs - an idiot should be able to do them with their eyes closed. And yet I manage to get written up by both of them.

How bad is it, really, to drive a car with expired registration and no insurance with a suspended license?

...ok typing it all out like that, well, I don't really have to ask. I know it's really bad.

I should just sell the damn thing and be done with it.
exhilaration: (Default)
I totally lied about the serious business part, of course. But all my bitching and moaning about being bored out here has been satiated, for now, I think.

First and foremost, my upstairs looks a thousand times better with painted walls. Yes, they were all ugly and patch-y all winter. Now every room is a different color. I am a big fan of colored walls. It wouldn't have occurred to me, ever, except for Daniel used to paint houses as his job and he always talked about what color rooms did what kinds of things to your brain and stuff, and I guess it rubbed off on me or something, because I was determined, from the very beginning, not to have a white wall in the whole place. And I don't. It looks so great. I'm so impressed with myself. Lol yeah right. I'm impressed with my painters. I didn't do much - I hardly did anything, really. And I spent... oh, I spent about a thousand dollars. But that includes the paint, too. And really, that ain't bad.

But you see... I can see myself preparing to spend another chunk of money on something totally unnecessary. It's a piece of electronics and I WANT IT.

Not buying it, though. Not this week, anyway.

So not buying it.

So I have neighbors, by the way )

...I can't believe there is a boy sleeping over at my house. That isn't Matt.

Does this mean that we're actually friends now?
exhilaration: (me)
First, a meme from [livejournal.com profile] ithidrial

1. My username is ______ because ______.

Lara_Everlong, because my first name is Lara, and I deeply adore the Foo Fighters.

2. My name is _____ because ______.

My real name, in case (just in case!) anyone from RL is looking for me, they can find my journal and know that I am still a part of existence. As far as I know, this has never happened. But I hold out hope.

3. My journal is titled ____ because ____.

Come Down, because it references the Foo Fighters song that I used for my LJ handle. And because when I started this journal, I was feeling pretty much on the bottom of the world. I've thought about changing it, though, because really, I'm not permanently down there, even if I felt that way when I named the journal.

4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.

Out Of Her Head She Sang, because even though in theory I know all the people on LJ are real people, sometimes it all seems like this elaborate made up place.

5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.

Well, that's Billie Piper, she plays Rose in Doctor Who, and she's my default icon because I like her :P I like her because she isn't perfect, because she's had an incredible life, and she didn't get a happy ending.

And now for the rest, which I promise is not depressing or full of rage. )

I guess what I can do that would be really productive would be to start shopping online for some shore-house-type furniture, because, well, summer is coming and the season is starting and if I want to make this whole income-property thing work, well, I have to have this all rentable by summer. Which is basically impossible, and how I'm really going to get everything done when I've been dicking around all winter instead of taking care of all this stuff, well, damned if I know.

The Man With A Thousand Voices Standing Perfectly Still

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exhilaration: (Default)
Lara I.

October 2012

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