Thursday, June 23, 2005

...or there might be a tornado. Or a plague!

Bethany: I don’t suppose you would be interested in vacuuming the second floor? It really needs to be done before it gets hot again.

Me: …because the heat will really bake the dirt in?

Bethany: Nooo, I just won’t be able to stand the heat up there for more than five minutes, is all. Vacuuming will be right off the list.

Me: I love how you relate the possibility of cleaning to geological movement and large-scale weather patterns.


Me: "Once monsoon season hits, cleaning the basement will be totally out of the question."

Bethany: Look, a butterfly might be flapping its wings in Japan right now!

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Don't Step on My Cats

Ok, I'm not parking in the apartment parking spots, like the ticket says. What do you mean, "around the back?" There's a fence back here, and it's all overgrown with weeds, and where am I supposed to-oh. There's the gate. Held closed by a bungee cord. Right.

Crazy Old Lady: (from rocking chair on back porch) UP HEREwheeze!!!

Me: Oh, hi! *wrestles with gate, approaches porch*


Me: On the street. *hands her the pizza*


Me: Um...the ticket said not to park in the parking spots. So I parked on the street.

(Dude, if I knew there was a dumpster, I totally would have parked near it. Because that is where all the cool kids park. Duh.)

C.O.L: IT'S NOT FUNNYwheezeTHE FIRE DEPARTMENTwheezeIS ACCROSS THE STREET!! *takes forever to sign slip* *does not tip me*

Me: I see.


(I have in no way parked the fire department in. Or out. Or parked illegally in any sort of way.)

(this lady obviously is preoccupied with fire fighters. I hope they appreciate her efforts.)

Me: Right. Well, have a nice day.


(Okay, she didn't really say that, but it would have been funny.)

I Don't Want This Kind of Blog.

The kind of blog that bemoans the boringness of my life. Those kinds of blogs make me sleepy.

But, man. My life is boring. I want it more fun. POOF! BE MORE FUN!!

*squeezes eyes shut*
*crosses fingers*
*waits for elephant-of-fun to run me over*

Damn. I don't want the grown-up kind of fun, where I'm challenged intellectually by my career, or where I pick out towels to match my bathroom curtains, or where I make car payments on a moderately-priced Dodge four-door something-or-other and feel gratified as a person because I own a real live new car, yee-ha. Do you think I'd be delivering pizza if I actually wanted any of that?? I want the other kind of fun! With drinking and carousing and whoring and being generally irresponsible with the wellbeing of my property and yours. Where'd all of that fun go?? I want it back!! *whine*

*is suddenly sleepy, takes a nap*
You know what's great?

Money. I love money. I love making it, I love saving it. I love spending it even more, but I can't have all three of these things at the same time, so making it and saving it will suffice for now. I have actually opened a savings account. My "total assets" slot is now a sum of two numbers, not just a redundancy reflecting the thirty-eight cents that I have left in my checking account after paying my cell phone bill. How great is that? Very.

The inherent drawback to all of this is, of course, that I actually have to save it. That I take the wad of tips in my pocket and stick it in the bank at the end of the day, instead of blowing it on nine fruit-and-walnut salads, a matching seat/steering wheel cover set from Wal-Mart and a Victoria's Secret shopping spree, like I want to. And I have to keep my grubby mitts off of e-bay. And out of the yarn store.

It also requires that I keep working. Having a small stash of cash totally gives me all this false sense of security, which in turn makes me all beligerant when work is especially slow. I start thinking things like "I could be at home, reading my book right now," or "I could be frollicking through the park with my nephew, or my boyfriend, or...or...that girl's dog. What a cute dog. Here, puppy, puppy!" Especially this week, as I am working 11-8 every day. (thanks a lot, boss.)

Yeah. It seems you can either have time or money, but not both.

Monday, June 13, 2005

I will write these on postcards and mail them, someday.

Dear Pizzaman Joe,

Look. I know delivering pizza is your full-time gig, and this is not exactly where you saw yourself at 40, but I really don't care whether or not you get that extra two dollar tip so you can cover the rent check that you already wrote your mom, so get out of my face.

What do you mean, "Don't just run out of here with orders like that?" I thought that was our job! What the fuck are you talking about, "your turn??" There were like, four other orders up when I left! You could have had these two that I am taking out now, as you are cursing at me, but no! Pizzaman Joe had to make sure we all know who's the biggest fish around here, so you waited around just to yell at me. And instead of missing one delivery, you've now missed three.

Well, guess what. I'm not going to wait around for you to get your shit together, or to ask you which pizza you'd like to take out.

I'm pretty sure niether of those things are in my lofty job description, you sandy little butthole.

Dear Sarcastic-Instructions-Giving-Guy,

Dude, how the fuck was I supposed to know that Linfield Ave was once called Main? I didn't grow up here, and I certainly wasn't around when the Kaiser decided to change all the street names on us! There is no need to describe to me again the whiteness of your house and the red camero in your driveway. If you keep telling me to turn on Main, and there is only Linfield, I will never get to your driveway, and you are simply not going to get your damn pizza. I KNOW IT'S ALMOST AN HOUR LATE!! WHO'S FAULT IS THAT???
*deep breath*
You know what?? KEEP your stupid money! I'll take it out of my tips and...and...THAT will show YOU!!

Dear Blaze,

Um, the parking brake is not, repeat, not on. You can just stop it with that blinky "parking brake" alert. And...wait...whoa! What is with the sudden speedometer failure?? I need to know how fast-

No, no, it's okay! Don't get mad! You're right! We don't need no stinking speedometer! Just keep running through July! That's all I want! *crosses fingers*



Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Like, gross.

"Well, then Brynne was all, 'Sarah is a bad kisser,' and I was all, 'how do you know?' and he was all, 'cause I'm a pimp.' "

"Eww. He is so not a pimp. Like, he's not even cute."

"I know. But he's all up on anything with tits, so I guess he gets some play. Kelly said that Jess said that new-girl-Katie thinks he's cute, but I don't think he likes her."

"Awww....she's really cute too."

"I don't know why he thinks he's gods gift. She's way young for him anyway. Like, remember when he was with Victoria? That was gross. Besides, now he's trying to get with this one over here." *nods in my direction*

...working with the 15-20 set has it's entertaining moments, at least.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

*Finally Gets Around to This*

Total Volume Of Music Files On My Computer: 7.68GB. Which is greatly in need of refreshing. Oh, how I miss you, campus-wide file-sharing. I didn't really appreciate you while I had you...le sigh.

The Last CD I Bought Was: Joss Stone: The Soul Sessions. It was nine or eleven dollars at Borders, and after seeing the White Stripes cover video, I thought there was no way a little sixteen-year old could be that smooth and awesome, so I had to find out.

Favorite song from the album (er, CD)? Yeah, I was right. Not that cool. "Fell in Love With a Boy," though cool enough, is the best the CD has to offer. Instead of skyrocketing herself into stardom and becoming the most sultry, soulful thing since Norah or Alecia Keys, she's hawking her second CD in some Target commercial right now. Lame, Joss, lame.

Song Playing Right Now: Stevie Ray Vaughn, "Little Wing"

Five Songs That I Listen To A Lot (Or That Mean A Lot To Me):
  • 311; "Amber." Because amber really is the color of my energy.
  • Bush; "Everything Zen." So angry, Bush! Everything zen around here? I DON'T THINK SO, BUDDY!!! I. Don't. Think so.
  • Tom Petty; "Angel Dream." This song is a very specific person and place for me. And it makes me sad.
  • Led Zeppelin; a tie for "Over the Hills and Far Away" and "What Is and Shall Never Be." You know, I only just recently realized that "Led Zeppelin" is a play on words? Like, a zeppelin is a big balloon-thing that flies, and if it were made out of "led," it wouldn't fly! You see, because, lead is heavy, and would not be a good material with which to build a something that flies...shut up.
  • Franz Ferdinand; "This Fire." I just like the way it makes me want to burn things. Or wave my arms around and do the booty-around dance with ~eve~, thus setting things on fire with our booties.