It's been a long time since I've been on here to blog about something. I've been so busy with my job (which left me exhausted), trying to pay bills, and planning a major move across the country that I haven't really had time to sit down at the computer to blog. The last time I posted a blog was back on July 4th! And even that seemed like just yesterday and here it is the end of September.
I've since moved to Colorado and I absolutely adore it. I did all of my Masters studies online and my university was based in Colorado Springs. Because of various factors, I didn't walk in my Bachelors graduation ceremony. My Masters degree felt like a triumph and therefore I really, really wanted to attend the festivities. The day I flew out to Colorado, I woke up at 4 AM for my flight. I was wearing a jacket because I anticipated being cold inside the airport terminals. When I stepped off the plane in Colorado, it was hot but it felt great! There was no humidity like there is in North Carolina. I stayed in CO for a week and did all the uber touristy stuff. I fell in love. Completely, head over heels in love. When I went back to Raleigh, I had some big decisions to make. What do I want to do with my life? What do I want to do with my degree? Where do I want to live? It became very clear to me that I wanted to live in Colorado. I immediately began to plan and save my money up to move. I wanted to do it in January but didn't have the funds. I wanted to be there by my birthday (June 30th) but still didn't have enough money. I planned on mid-July but ended up changing the date to the middle of August. I arrived in my new home state on the exact day that I graduated with my Masters degree the year before. Coincidence? I think not...even though I hadn't planned it that way.
So far, I have secured a part time job serving in a country club but I am still looking for that full time job to completely secure me and allow me to move into an apartment of my own. I also plan on starting my own Life Coaching practice on the side. This will eventually become my full time business because helping people achieve their dreams or become their ultimate selves is what makes me happy. And I'm pretty darn good at it. Somehow I just know the answers to things when it's needed or I know where to go for answers.
In the meantime, I've been exploring my spirituality and opening up my mind to different ideas, thoughts, experiences, and deepening my meditation. I feel that I have really come alive and am amazed at the journey that I experience at every step. Sometimes I feel lazy that I don't have a full time job yet...but it isn't from a lack of trying. And sometimes I really want to be in my own apartment because while the people that I'm staying with are beyond gracious for opening up their home to me, including me in events, etc...there is nothing like your own space and being able to decorate that anyway you want. In spite of these feelings, I'm really working on enjoying the ride. If we only focus on the destination, we miss out on major parts of our lives.
Namaste
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Never Gonna Get It...
There are 2 types of women--keepers and what Steve Harvey terms "sportsfish" (in his book Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man). There is nothing wrong with being either of these women. However, this book warns women that WANT to be keepers should stop going about attracting a man by being a sportsfish.
I'm not going to get into all of the details of the book. It's a great read so you should probably pick it up anyways. But basically, keepers teach men to react to them with respect whereas sportsfish attract men by calling to a man's more sexual needs. The sportsfish tactic will definitely work but he won't be around for very long. After reading this book, I have seen (and shaken my head at) many girls who make the mistake of wearing a slutty outfit and rubbing up a guy all night long in the hopes of roping him in. The guys that are looking for keeper girls keep right on walking. The guys who are looking for one night stands will respond to this behavior and the poor girl thinks she's landed a boyfriend and can't understand why he didn't call.
There are 2 types of men as well--keepers and sportsfish. Speaking as a gal who was a former sportsfish...I can now spot a male sportsfish when they approach me. And they never seem to realize why they can't get a gal like me (a born again keeper!). They think silly little lines like "You're my fantasy" and "You are so sexy" will get me interested in them. That's all well and good and it's nice to hear. But when your actions show that you disregard my feelings altogether, it means you're not worthy. Or you speak to me in a manner that is vulgar, it also means that you're not worthy.
Reminds me of that En Vogue song...
Doesn't matter what you do or what you say
She don't love you, no way
Maybe next time you'll give your woman a little respect
So you won't be hearing her say, "No way"
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
No, you're never gonna get it (Sweet lovin')
Never ever gonna get it (My lovin')...
I'm not going to get into all of the details of the book. It's a great read so you should probably pick it up anyways. But basically, keepers teach men to react to them with respect whereas sportsfish attract men by calling to a man's more sexual needs. The sportsfish tactic will definitely work but he won't be around for very long. After reading this book, I have seen (and shaken my head at) many girls who make the mistake of wearing a slutty outfit and rubbing up a guy all night long in the hopes of roping him in. The guys that are looking for keeper girls keep right on walking. The guys who are looking for one night stands will respond to this behavior and the poor girl thinks she's landed a boyfriend and can't understand why he didn't call.
There are 2 types of men as well--keepers and sportsfish. Speaking as a gal who was a former sportsfish...I can now spot a male sportsfish when they approach me. And they never seem to realize why they can't get a gal like me (a born again keeper!). They think silly little lines like "You're my fantasy" and "You are so sexy" will get me interested in them. That's all well and good and it's nice to hear. But when your actions show that you disregard my feelings altogether, it means you're not worthy. Or you speak to me in a manner that is vulgar, it also means that you're not worthy.
Reminds me of that En Vogue song...
Doesn't matter what you do or what you say
She don't love you, no way
Maybe next time you'll give your woman a little respect
So you won't be hearing her say, "No way"
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
Never gonna get it, never gonna get it
No, you're never gonna get it (Sweet lovin')
Never ever gonna get it (My lovin')...
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Dilemma
I'm moving to Colorado Springs some time this year. When? Not exactly sure. Whenever I have enough money saved up. I already have a plan in place of how to get there, the problem is that it requires me to be patient...not one of my best virtues. See, I sort of believe that the circumstances around the way a person was born follows them throughout life. For example, I was 2 weeks overdue (I should have been born in the middle of June, not the last day) but when my mom went into labor, I barely even waited for the doctor to get out of rush hour. He basically only had enough time to walk in, throw the gloves on, and catch me. This is how I am today. I take FOREVER to come to a decision, but when I do, I want to act on it NOW, waiting for no one. But the universe takes her time and well, the big guy upstairs definitely knows what's best for me. I never asked for patience, I'm not sure why the lesson keeps being taught to me. I have a real problem learning to enjoy the ride.
Tax time. Finished them up and I'm getting a nice chunk back due to my college loans. This will be the last time I get this sort of a refund so I need to do something special with it. Immediately, my thoughts were to replace the convertible top on my Sebring as it so badly needs the job. I'd still have a bit of money left over to put towards a trip out there in late March to scope out apartments in addition to having more to sock away for the move.
For awhile I've been thinking that I'd like an AWD vehicle to make me feel safer in the snow that I encounter in Colorado plus I plan on doing some mountain driving on dirt roads and off-roading. I love the look of the Jeep and am seriously considering a Sahara or a Rubicon, especially the kind that becomes a convertible. I hadn't considered giving up my convertible, but why do I need 2 vehicles? Today it entered my head to use my convertible as a trade-in on a fairly new Jeep. I told myself that I would keep my car for 10 years but 8 is a good run.
Enter the dilemma...
Do I use some of my tax refund for a new rag top on the current convertible or do I save that money for the move and just patch 'er up?
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Etiquette Lessons for Those Wishing to Eat in a Restaurant
About 3 weeks ago, I started a waitressing job. I did this, because for the last year and a half I've been working my ass off in a full-time job I didn't like and going to school full-time to get my Master's degree. I'm exhausted. Contrary to what my new coworkers and the young'uns I meet on Glenwood South think, I am not in my early twenties anymore. I can no longer go to sleep at 3 in the morning and be up and ready to be at work at 6 AM. Those days are long behind me. I needs my sleep! Plus, I hadn't exactly figured out what I wanted to do with my life (I have since then but let's stay on topic here...). In the past, I've always settled for the first job to come along because I needed the money and always ended up hating it. The point of getting a Master's degree was so that I would enjoy my career. So in an effort to not commit the same mistakes of the past, I took a waitressing job (which I do enjoy). I held this position 12 years ago and a lot has changed about the business. They've streamlined it. It has also come to my attention that people have lost the manners required to eat in a restaurant.
Manners? Etiquette? That's needed in order to eat in a restaurant? Why, yes it is! And my job would be a lot easier if people were required to take lessons in order to learn the proper way to eat in a restaurant. And this list is just based on the stuff that I've witnessed in the 2 short weeks I've actually been on the floor.
1. READ THE MENU! Do you know how many times I've had to send something back to the kitchen because YOU don't eat bacon and you should have known that that particular dish had bacon on it because it says so right in the menu? Even the friggin' picture in the menu shows you it has bacon on it. If you would still like the meal, by all means still order it. Just tell me to put the bacon on the side and we'll gladly take care of that for you. But if you do not eat pork products, shouldn't you be reading the descriptions a little bit closer? There are starving people in some third world country that could use that piece of chicken you sent back... Honestly, part of my training is that I need to know all the ingredients of our dishes so that when someone orders a particular item, I have to ask them if they want all the ingredients that come with that item. I can't just say: "Excellent choice, sir!" I have to say: "Now that cheesy chicken has cheese and bacon on it, is all of that okay with you?" I've also had to send back loaded baked potato soup because the guest didn't eat pork but didn't bother to read the part about that on the menu.
2. PLEASE ACCOMPANY YOUR CHILDREN TO THE BATHROOM. I have a limited window of opportunity to use the restroom when I'm on the floor. If your daughters are sent to the bathroom alone to play around in the four stalls and splash up the sinks, I can't go to the bathroom. And who knows when I'll get another chance. How did you not notice that they were gone for 20 minutes?
3. PLEASE REVIEW YOUR MEAL AND MAKE NOTE OF EVERYTHING YOU WILL NEED FOR YOUR MEAL. We're on our feet all day. They hurt. They hurt like a mo-fo some days. When I deliver your food and ask: "May I get you anything else?" please make a list of everything right then and there so that I can make one trip. The other day, I served a man sitting in the bar his hamburger. He asked for a side of ranch dressing. I ran all the way to the other side of the restaurant to get said ranch dressing, then ran all the way back to deliver it. He then announces that he would like some ketchup for his burger. Seriously?? You didn't realize that you needed the ketchup before? I should have just said: "Your bartender will get that for you" and walked away...but of course I cannot do this. It isn't right.
4. PLEASE DON'T PUNISH WAITRESSES FOR RESTAURANT POLICY. Common sense tells you that when a restaurant is having an all-you-can-stuff-in-your-craw special of some sort, it means that you cannot share and you will not be given a to-go container. So when we inform you that we're not putting in a reorder of food because you're sharing with someone else, you can be upset if you want to. But to walk away on a $50+ ticket without leaving a tip, especially when we have to clean up after your messy children, is just mean.
5. REMEMBER WHAT YOU ORDERED. In my restaurant, we have people who take your order, refill your drinks, etc and then another person brings you your food from the kitchen. It makes getting your food faster, and frees up the waiters and waitresses to serve more people. It also makes our jobs less stressful. I've actually placed food down in front of people and have had them say: "Ummmmm...did I order this?" Then their companion says: "Yes, that's what you ordered." Clueless person: "I did?" Companion: "Yes, you did." This whole time, I'm standing there waiting for someone to come to a conclusion so I can either set the plate down and go back to pick up more food that is waiting in the window (other people need to eat too) or take the food back and correct the order. How do you forget what you ordered?? I always remember what I ordered and often times, clap when the food arrives. LOL
6. WHEN A SERVER APPEARS, STOP TALKING. We don't like to interrupt your conversation. It actually makes us feel rude. But we need to communicate with you to make sure you have what you need. So please don't ignore us. Just pause in your conversation, let us ask whatever question we need to ask, then you can go back to the convo.
Okay, so those are some etiquette lessons to start y'all off. Shouldn't have to be said, but apparently it does! All in a day's work and I'm really thankful I have a job. :)
Manners? Etiquette? That's needed in order to eat in a restaurant? Why, yes it is! And my job would be a lot easier if people were required to take lessons in order to learn the proper way to eat in a restaurant. And this list is just based on the stuff that I've witnessed in the 2 short weeks I've actually been on the floor.
1. READ THE MENU! Do you know how many times I've had to send something back to the kitchen because YOU don't eat bacon and you should have known that that particular dish had bacon on it because it says so right in the menu? Even the friggin' picture in the menu shows you it has bacon on it. If you would still like the meal, by all means still order it. Just tell me to put the bacon on the side and we'll gladly take care of that for you. But if you do not eat pork products, shouldn't you be reading the descriptions a little bit closer? There are starving people in some third world country that could use that piece of chicken you sent back... Honestly, part of my training is that I need to know all the ingredients of our dishes so that when someone orders a particular item, I have to ask them if they want all the ingredients that come with that item. I can't just say: "Excellent choice, sir!" I have to say: "Now that cheesy chicken has cheese and bacon on it, is all of that okay with you?" I've also had to send back loaded baked potato soup because the guest didn't eat pork but didn't bother to read the part about that on the menu.
2. PLEASE ACCOMPANY YOUR CHILDREN TO THE BATHROOM. I have a limited window of opportunity to use the restroom when I'm on the floor. If your daughters are sent to the bathroom alone to play around in the four stalls and splash up the sinks, I can't go to the bathroom. And who knows when I'll get another chance. How did you not notice that they were gone for 20 minutes?
3. PLEASE REVIEW YOUR MEAL AND MAKE NOTE OF EVERYTHING YOU WILL NEED FOR YOUR MEAL. We're on our feet all day. They hurt. They hurt like a mo-fo some days. When I deliver your food and ask: "May I get you anything else?" please make a list of everything right then and there so that I can make one trip. The other day, I served a man sitting in the bar his hamburger. He asked for a side of ranch dressing. I ran all the way to the other side of the restaurant to get said ranch dressing, then ran all the way back to deliver it. He then announces that he would like some ketchup for his burger. Seriously?? You didn't realize that you needed the ketchup before? I should have just said: "Your bartender will get that for you" and walked away...but of course I cannot do this. It isn't right.
4. PLEASE DON'T PUNISH WAITRESSES FOR RESTAURANT POLICY. Common sense tells you that when a restaurant is having an all-you-can-stuff-in-your-craw special of some sort, it means that you cannot share and you will not be given a to-go container. So when we inform you that we're not putting in a reorder of food because you're sharing with someone else, you can be upset if you want to. But to walk away on a $50+ ticket without leaving a tip, especially when we have to clean up after your messy children, is just mean.
5. REMEMBER WHAT YOU ORDERED. In my restaurant, we have people who take your order, refill your drinks, etc and then another person brings you your food from the kitchen. It makes getting your food faster, and frees up the waiters and waitresses to serve more people. It also makes our jobs less stressful. I've actually placed food down in front of people and have had them say: "Ummmmm...did I order this?" Then their companion says: "Yes, that's what you ordered." Clueless person: "I did?" Companion: "Yes, you did." This whole time, I'm standing there waiting for someone to come to a conclusion so I can either set the plate down and go back to pick up more food that is waiting in the window (other people need to eat too) or take the food back and correct the order. How do you forget what you ordered?? I always remember what I ordered and often times, clap when the food arrives. LOL
6. WHEN A SERVER APPEARS, STOP TALKING. We don't like to interrupt your conversation. It actually makes us feel rude. But we need to communicate with you to make sure you have what you need. So please don't ignore us. Just pause in your conversation, let us ask whatever question we need to ask, then you can go back to the convo.
Okay, so those are some etiquette lessons to start y'all off. Shouldn't have to be said, but apparently it does! All in a day's work and I'm really thankful I have a job. :)
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Murphy's Law
Yesterday was one of those days where almost everything seemed to go wrong. It made me remember my friend's blog about being selfish as I had my own moment of selfishness.
In the state of North Carolina, you must have your car inspected for safety before you can have it registered. This inspection basically states that your lights work, brake lights work, horn works, etc. Mine was due in August as was my registration. Due to my preoccupation with graduating with my Master's degree and planning my travel itineraries to Colorado and Michigan, it completely slipped my mind. By the time I got back from my travels, it was long overdue. This forced me to drive the speed limit when running my errands in an effort to not get stopped. Even if I did, I knew that I'd just have to go down to the courthouse with proof that I rectified the situation and they'd dismiss it.
So the Friday after I returned (September 2nd), I headed off into the world to get my car inspected. On my way there, I realized that I still haven't fixed my driver's side brake light from I got rear ended by a dump truck in April. Yes, I said April. I hadn't really felt the push to fix it because it still worked. The bulbs lit up but the assembly was cracked, which will not pass inspection. Oy vey. I'd tried to fix it once but they kept sending me an assembly that was way too small for my car. So I headed to the auto parts closest to my house instead to order the part. For some reason, they couldn't find it in their system to order so they sent me to another auto parts store. 2nd auto parts store came up with the same issue and sent me to one that "definitely had it in stock right now." They couldn't find it either... I drove home defeated. After searching for the part online, I discovered the reason why I was continually sent the wrong part. Apparently my car's model year is technically considered a sedan even though it's a 2-door convertible. So they kept sending me a part for the coupe.
I had to resort to calling the dreaded dealership. They used my VIN to order the part and quoted me $222! But no one else had the part. So I picked up the part and it was the correct one, however the lights didn't work. What's more, I couldn't get the assembly out of the socket either. Long story short (and after much frustration), I had to use a hammer to pound it out and then leave room for the connection to fully connect before tightening everything back up. Lights finally worked! I tore off to get it inspected. And at least that went off without a hitch. Now on to get it registered.
I pull up to the DMV and get in line. There are 2 attendants for the "renew" line and both are occupied. There is only 1 other girl in front of me. This is good. This is very good! As I stand there, I notice the signs that say: "NO CREDIT OR DEBIT CARDS ACCEPTED." I turn to the gal in front of me and ask: "How much is a renewal?" She says: "$33" Me: "And I just noticed they don't take credit cards..." Gal: "I know. This is my 2nd time coming here because the ATM in the corner isn't working." I sigh and head out the door. I needed to go to my bank anyways to deposit a check. I almost get out $40 but instead I decide to get out $60 as you never know when you're going to need cash these days. I drive back to the DMV and the line is still pretty short. Yes! When it's my turn, the lady pulls up my license plate and says: "Ugh...the government system isn't registering that you got your inspection done so now I have to call. I've had to do this once already today..." I sympathize with her, thinking that she will be in a better mood if I do. She calls to get my hold cleared and says: "That'll be $63." Argh! I forgot there's an extra fee for a vanity plate! I say: "I only have $60. Can I give you $60 now, you print out my registration and when I get back I can give you the $3 and you give me the registration?" This is a no go... She points me to the Trader Joe's across the shopping center and says I can buy something and get cash back. As I turn around to leave, I notice that the line is now out the door.
I go to Trader Joe's and buy popping corn to get $10 cash back. I then return to the DMV for the THIRD time and get into the line that is now even longer. I'm moaning and grumbling to myself that now I have to wait in this huge line all because I was $3 short and wondering why I didn't just beg $1 off of 3 different people when I admonish myself. I start to realize that most of these people are probably on their lunch hour from work and could be in danger of getting back from lunch late therefore risking trouble at work. Whereas I, who am currently unemployed, have no where else to be the rest of the day (other than decluttering my home and purging unwanted items). I selfishly just didn't want to wait in a line. This thought makes me calm down and tolerate the wait.
After making my car legal, I decide that my ordeal deserves a diet cherry limeade from Sonic. It's now 2PM and I haven't had anything to eat since 8AM. First, I completely forgot where the Sonic up this way was as I'm used to going to the other one across town so I end up driving about 5 miles out of my way for it. Then I pull up and push the button to order. The waiter on the other end is so loud that I can't hear what he's saying. Ever have that happen to you? It seems like an oxymoron but it's the truth. I give my order and he responds: "I'm sorry ma'am, we're not serving that anymore." Me: "Okay, I'm gonna need a minute then." I peruse the menu once more, make a decision and push the button. Silence. I wait a while and then push it again. Mr. Loudster comes on and says: "I'll be right with you ma'am." So I wait...and wait...and wait...and while I'm waiting I remember that a friend said he hates this particular Sonic because they never get his order right. I wait some more. Instead of pushing the button one more time, I decide to drive off. I'm starving and I don't really feel like waiting anymore as it seems that's all I've done all day. It's hard not to be selfish when your blood sugar has dropped. So I went home and enjoyed that popping corn I bought at Trader Joe's. Still wish I had a diet cherry limeade to go with it.
In the state of North Carolina, you must have your car inspected for safety before you can have it registered. This inspection basically states that your lights work, brake lights work, horn works, etc. Mine was due in August as was my registration. Due to my preoccupation with graduating with my Master's degree and planning my travel itineraries to Colorado and Michigan, it completely slipped my mind. By the time I got back from my travels, it was long overdue. This forced me to drive the speed limit when running my errands in an effort to not get stopped. Even if I did, I knew that I'd just have to go down to the courthouse with proof that I rectified the situation and they'd dismiss it.
So the Friday after I returned (September 2nd), I headed off into the world to get my car inspected. On my way there, I realized that I still haven't fixed my driver's side brake light from I got rear ended by a dump truck in April. Yes, I said April. I hadn't really felt the push to fix it because it still worked. The bulbs lit up but the assembly was cracked, which will not pass inspection. Oy vey. I'd tried to fix it once but they kept sending me an assembly that was way too small for my car. So I headed to the auto parts closest to my house instead to order the part. For some reason, they couldn't find it in their system to order so they sent me to another auto parts store. 2nd auto parts store came up with the same issue and sent me to one that "definitely had it in stock right now." They couldn't find it either... I drove home defeated. After searching for the part online, I discovered the reason why I was continually sent the wrong part. Apparently my car's model year is technically considered a sedan even though it's a 2-door convertible. So they kept sending me a part for the coupe.
I had to resort to calling the dreaded dealership. They used my VIN to order the part and quoted me $222! But no one else had the part. So I picked up the part and it was the correct one, however the lights didn't work. What's more, I couldn't get the assembly out of the socket either. Long story short (and after much frustration), I had to use a hammer to pound it out and then leave room for the connection to fully connect before tightening everything back up. Lights finally worked! I tore off to get it inspected. And at least that went off without a hitch. Now on to get it registered.
I pull up to the DMV and get in line. There are 2 attendants for the "renew" line and both are occupied. There is only 1 other girl in front of me. This is good. This is very good! As I stand there, I notice the signs that say: "NO CREDIT OR DEBIT CARDS ACCEPTED." I turn to the gal in front of me and ask: "How much is a renewal?" She says: "$33" Me: "And I just noticed they don't take credit cards..." Gal: "I know. This is my 2nd time coming here because the ATM in the corner isn't working." I sigh and head out the door. I needed to go to my bank anyways to deposit a check. I almost get out $40 but instead I decide to get out $60 as you never know when you're going to need cash these days. I drive back to the DMV and the line is still pretty short. Yes! When it's my turn, the lady pulls up my license plate and says: "Ugh...the government system isn't registering that you got your inspection done so now I have to call. I've had to do this once already today..." I sympathize with her, thinking that she will be in a better mood if I do. She calls to get my hold cleared and says: "That'll be $63." Argh! I forgot there's an extra fee for a vanity plate! I say: "I only have $60. Can I give you $60 now, you print out my registration and when I get back I can give you the $3 and you give me the registration?" This is a no go... She points me to the Trader Joe's across the shopping center and says I can buy something and get cash back. As I turn around to leave, I notice that the line is now out the door.
I go to Trader Joe's and buy popping corn to get $10 cash back. I then return to the DMV for the THIRD time and get into the line that is now even longer. I'm moaning and grumbling to myself that now I have to wait in this huge line all because I was $3 short and wondering why I didn't just beg $1 off of 3 different people when I admonish myself. I start to realize that most of these people are probably on their lunch hour from work and could be in danger of getting back from lunch late therefore risking trouble at work. Whereas I, who am currently unemployed, have no where else to be the rest of the day (other than decluttering my home and purging unwanted items). I selfishly just didn't want to wait in a line. This thought makes me calm down and tolerate the wait.
After making my car legal, I decide that my ordeal deserves a diet cherry limeade from Sonic. It's now 2PM and I haven't had anything to eat since 8AM. First, I completely forgot where the Sonic up this way was as I'm used to going to the other one across town so I end up driving about 5 miles out of my way for it. Then I pull up and push the button to order. The waiter on the other end is so loud that I can't hear what he's saying. Ever have that happen to you? It seems like an oxymoron but it's the truth. I give my order and he responds: "I'm sorry ma'am, we're not serving that anymore." Me: "Okay, I'm gonna need a minute then." I peruse the menu once more, make a decision and push the button. Silence. I wait a while and then push it again. Mr. Loudster comes on and says: "I'll be right with you ma'am." So I wait...and wait...and wait...and while I'm waiting I remember that a friend said he hates this particular Sonic because they never get his order right. I wait some more. Instead of pushing the button one more time, I decide to drive off. I'm starving and I don't really feel like waiting anymore as it seems that's all I've done all day. It's hard not to be selfish when your blood sugar has dropped. So I went home and enjoyed that popping corn I bought at Trader Joe's. Still wish I had a diet cherry limeade to go with it.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
10 Things...
All new 10 Odd things about me....here we go!
1. I see no need for Mederma for myself. I love all of my scars as each one tells a story. I wear them as a badge of honor. Even the chicken pox scars I purposely created just to spite my mom. I have one on my forehead, inner right thigh, and tummy beside my belly button. I have a scar on my right wrist. I got that one because I ran out of toilet paper, climbed into the tub to bang on the window in order to get my dad's attention as he was walking across the yard. I apparently banged so hard on the window that my fist went right through. You'd think if I went to all the trouble of getting in the tub and banging on the window I'd just have gotten the toilet paper myself. I also have a scar on my inner right ankle and my outer right ankle from when I fell down a hill but the ankle stayed behind. Got a plate and screws put into that leg.
2. I used to be a dancer...then my boobs got too big... Oops! Guess I trained 'em too good.
3. I was a cheerleader for the church's youth league. I sooo hated basketball! But I was very proud of the fact that I could do the splits "all three ways." "B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E Be aggressive! B-E aggressive!" To this day, I can't spell "aggressive" without doing this damn cheer in my head...
4. I rarely cry. And crying in public is humiliating for me. In fact, I see it as a sign of weakness. Even as a little girl I'd cry and then ask my mom, "does it look like I've been crying??" before I'd go out into public. Most girls would love it if their men showed some sensitivity and cried at a movie, but not me. I mean, when your dog dies, it's absolutely acceptable. Of course there is a time and a place for crying (for me, that's in my room, alone or in the shower). But I just don't do it all that often. Most women would say that they feel so good after a good cry. Ugh! I feel like crap afterwards. Nauseous, hung over, bright red nose, and watery eyes. Forget it! But this is probably because I don't dwell on sadness much. I'd much rather spend my emotions on happy feelings. 
5. For the most part, I hate chick flicks. "The Notebook" was horrible, in my opinion. Most girls would cry through this movie. I cried. But only because I was forced to sit through that stupid drivel. Gimme some good scary horror (hold the gore) any day...
6. Green grapes make me think about worms. They make me think about worms because when I was in approximately the third grade, my teacher would take an hour or so to read us a book. We were allowed to have a small snack during this time. This was probably done in order to settle us down after recess. The snack my mom always gave me were green grapes. And I liked to eat them by peeling the skin off the entire grape before popping it in my mouth, squishing it with my tongue against the roof, and savoring the juice as it squelched against my cheeks. The one book I remember the teacher reading was the story, "How to Eat Fried Worms." So I associate green grapes with worms. Not in a nasty sort of way where it precludes me from eating them...more of just a memory.
7. I crave Turkey Spam Lite when I'm sick (yes, I know I'm weird...it's the only time I like it, I swear!). I also like mashed potatoes, chicken broth (not chicken noodle soup, just the broth), saltines, and juice when I'm sick.
8. I'm a food snob/picky eater, and a weird eater. I adore popcorn but won't eat microwave popcorn unless I'm really desperate...only my own homemade kind. I won't eat the brown "veiny" parts in chicken. I hate pickles. I hate mayonnaise. I hate mustard. I don't like most salad dressings. In fact, I hated all salad dressings until I was in my late twenties (now I like ranch but only a specific type of ranch and Caesar). The list of foods that I don't like is long indeed. And on top of that, I like to eat my food in a specific order. I don't take a bite of meat, a bite of potatoes, a bite of something else. I like to eat them in sections in the order of what I like the least to what I like the best being last. I eat my multi-flavored candies the same way for the same reason. I don't like my foods to touch on my plate either. I've heard all the admonishments. The biggest one being: "It all ends up in the same place you know." But my argument is that it doesn't taste the same going down. I think that I'm a person that likes to savor things. I love the feel of the breeze on my skin, the scent of burning leaves, the tartness of grapes on my tongue... So to combine all those flavors together I have to forgo the savoring.
9. Opening biscuit cans scares the crap out of me. I know that the sound is coming and yet I let out a scream and jump every single time it happens. Thankfully they come in a freezer pack now...
10. When I'm ready for bed, I start out on my side. Then, when I'm really ready to go to sleep I roll over onto my back. I've tried to just lay on my back but I end up not being to fall asleep! Apparently my mind is too used to the routine!
Theater Folk
Another old blog that was stuck in "draft" status. These events happened back at the beginning of April.
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Some time in February, I was an extra in a movie. All I really had to do was sit around on the ground and cheer for a football game going on. It was quite tedious and kind of exhausting to have to cheer for several minutes at a time to make sure that they got the noise and the shots needed. But all for the sake of the film, right?
People keep asking if there are any major names in this film. It's an independent film so no A-list stars but actors and actresses that have been in various things like The Walking Dead, another had a bit part in The Blind Side. Last Thursday I got the call back for the big fight scene. We started out the day getting dirty for our parts. We're supposed to be a people living without power for a few months. There are two different camps--the good guys and the bad guys. I'm one of the good guys so I'm not too dirty. After wardrobe and makeup, most of us stand around in groups talking, eating breakfast, and trying to stay warm without wiping off our makeup.
For the first part of the morning, my new friend Naomi & I lean ourselves up against a minivan and sun ourselves like cats until we're asked to move by the owner of the car. Blah. We then head over to the other van and sit down in front of that on the cold ground. We're now amongst the other extras who seem to be theater folk. My first inkling of how these people were was when I walked to the port-a-potty with one of the other extras. She was super excited to be in the movie but was even more excited at the terrific opportunity it was for her daughter. The whole long walk to and from the port-a-potty was about her daughter who was an aspiring model and actress. I was stuck walking beside a stage mom....
Back amongst the extras camp, people are starting to break out in song and dance. The 65-year-old lady who keeps reminding us all that she is way too old to be an extra in this movie (why is she here again??) apparently has to leave at 4PM because she has to get to the theater but not before she's passed around a picture of her brand new grandson to everyone. She was in an advertisement where they had to do a country line dance for 8 hours straight with the guy that drove me to the set. He, of course, demonstrates the line dance. The daughter I heard so much about on the way to and from the port-a-potty gets up and starts demonstrating the dance moves to the play she's trying out for soon. This whole scene makes me giggle. I'm just not among my own kind, am I? LOL
Finally we get to film some scenes. Although I'm one of the good guys, I have to dress up like a bad guy to help fill in some gaps among the bad guys camp. So when the director calls "action" we have to run through an obstacle course of cars and sprint down the hill with murder in our veins. Some people have been chosen to jump over the cars...and yes the theater folk all get the parts on that because they are always the first to volunteer. Stage mom keeps putting leaves in her daughter's hair and making sure she's mussed up enough for the scene. Daughter is getting annoyed with this. I'm with her...why don't we leave that to hair, makeup, and wardrobe?
The thing that made my mouth drop open the most involved the guy that drove me to the set. He & the daughter of the theater mom have to jump over the cars so they are supposed to run first. The rest of us are behind them and we charge right when they are on top of the cars. After the third or fourth take, the director decides that we should all run in from the left instead of from both sides so he corrals us over. Man-who-drove-me-to-the-set says to theater-mom's-daughter "Not you, Allie...you're fine." Allie goes back over to the right side while the director is checking the board to make sure it's his name under "director." Theater folk...
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Some time in February, I was an extra in a movie. All I really had to do was sit around on the ground and cheer for a football game going on. It was quite tedious and kind of exhausting to have to cheer for several minutes at a time to make sure that they got the noise and the shots needed. But all for the sake of the film, right?
People keep asking if there are any major names in this film. It's an independent film so no A-list stars but actors and actresses that have been in various things like The Walking Dead, another had a bit part in The Blind Side. Last Thursday I got the call back for the big fight scene. We started out the day getting dirty for our parts. We're supposed to be a people living without power for a few months. There are two different camps--the good guys and the bad guys. I'm one of the good guys so I'm not too dirty. After wardrobe and makeup, most of us stand around in groups talking, eating breakfast, and trying to stay warm without wiping off our makeup.
For the first part of the morning, my new friend Naomi & I lean ourselves up against a minivan and sun ourselves like cats until we're asked to move by the owner of the car. Blah. We then head over to the other van and sit down in front of that on the cold ground. We're now amongst the other extras who seem to be theater folk. My first inkling of how these people were was when I walked to the port-a-potty with one of the other extras. She was super excited to be in the movie but was even more excited at the terrific opportunity it was for her daughter. The whole long walk to and from the port-a-potty was about her daughter who was an aspiring model and actress. I was stuck walking beside a stage mom....
Back amongst the extras camp, people are starting to break out in song and dance. The 65-year-old lady who keeps reminding us all that she is way too old to be an extra in this movie (why is she here again??) apparently has to leave at 4PM because she has to get to the theater but not before she's passed around a picture of her brand new grandson to everyone. She was in an advertisement where they had to do a country line dance for 8 hours straight with the guy that drove me to the set. He, of course, demonstrates the line dance. The daughter I heard so much about on the way to and from the port-a-potty gets up and starts demonstrating the dance moves to the play she's trying out for soon. This whole scene makes me giggle. I'm just not among my own kind, am I? LOL
Finally we get to film some scenes. Although I'm one of the good guys, I have to dress up like a bad guy to help fill in some gaps among the bad guys camp. So when the director calls "action" we have to run through an obstacle course of cars and sprint down the hill with murder in our veins. Some people have been chosen to jump over the cars...and yes the theater folk all get the parts on that because they are always the first to volunteer. Stage mom keeps putting leaves in her daughter's hair and making sure she's mussed up enough for the scene. Daughter is getting annoyed with this. I'm with her...why don't we leave that to hair, makeup, and wardrobe?
The thing that made my mouth drop open the most involved the guy that drove me to the set. He & the daughter of the theater mom have to jump over the cars so they are supposed to run first. The rest of us are behind them and we charge right when they are on top of the cars. After the third or fourth take, the director decides that we should all run in from the left instead of from both sides so he corrals us over. Man-who-drove-me-to-the-set says to theater-mom's-daughter "Not you, Allie...you're fine." Allie goes back over to the right side while the director is checking the board to make sure it's his name under "director." Theater folk...
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