You don't have to buy anything, just come by and hang out...

I went to a Cookie Lee Jewellery sales party last night. It’s just like all those Mary Kay, Tupperware, Sex toys, fragrance candles, whatever you name it-parties. You feel like you have to buy something, anything, or you’ll feel bad. The girl who invited me to this one was not the sales rep though, just the hostess. So I thought I’d actually be able to leave without buying anything if I didn’t find something I liked. Yeah… not so much. I think everyone there ended up buying something; it’s just how those parties work. The sales rep won’t shut up until you shop so just get something cheap and then eat a lot of cheese and drink a lot of wine to make up for it.

I only got a pair of earrings from the half off-rack though, so it wasn’t too bad. I would never have paid $11 for them at the store (or $13.36 after tax and shipping fee – what shipping fee? I walked them home myself…) but on the other hand I’m pretty sure I’ll actually end up wearing them at least a few times.

When I lived in Moscow I was suckered into a Mary Kay party somehow, still don’t know quite how it happened. But I remember the lady sales rep’s name was Trudy and that she had on a bright red suit jacket that was broken and ripped in at least five places and that she kept talking about how she had six kids and that this was her way of feeding them. It was a really awkward and uncomfortable situation and I bought a lip gloss I didn’t really like just because I felt like I had to. Yeah… that party sucked. Yesterday was at least half way fun.

I really should write about something but work...but

There are some questions everyone who sometimes eat out should ask themselves. Let me give you some examples…

If you walk in and the staff is obviously cleaning up, preparing to close, you ask if they’re still serving food and they answer something along the lines of “yes, for like another three minutes…” You’ll obviously still get served and they probably won’t spit on your food. BUT, do you really want to be that person?

Do you think a waiter who manages six tables during lunch rush has time to pour you a sample of every single beer just because he or she was happy to do so on a slow night last week?

Is it okay for your (old enough to know better) kid to throw food on the floor at home?

Do you really expect your waiter to give you an honest answer when you ask if an item on the menu is any good? Not if it’s spicy, greasy, cheesy, salty or whatever, but just good.

If the waitress is more than 30 years younger than you, is there really a way to phrase a compliment so it won’t be creepy?

Do you think your server is the one cooking the food?
If not, should you yell at him/her when it’s not cooked the way you want?

Would you pour little islands of salt on the table at one of your friend’s house?

What about breaking 14 toothpicks into 50 tiny pieces?

Do you actually believe all people working in a restaurant are less intelligent than other human beings and therefore don’t deserve the same amount of respect and common courtesy you show other people?
If no, don’t treat them like you do.

Most of the time our guests are really nice, today has just been one those days…
This was pretty funny though, I thought, overheard at one of my tables.
Boy 1(14-ish) to Boy 2 (11-ish and probably his brother)

B1: Hey man, you wanna split a big pizza…?
B2: Yeah… okay.
B1: But can you handle it? Can you eat a lot? I don’t want to see you wimpy eat like at home, can you eat a lot? Do you want to eat a lot?
B2: (in a very wimpy voice…) I want to eat a lot… I can try. No I mean, I will do it. Yes. Yeah… I want to eat a lot.
B1: Okay… Okay, let’s do it. We’ll get the big pizza. We’ll eat a lot tonight!

And they did, they finished a whole big pizza together. Although I suspect their dad who just had a Panini might have helped out a little.

people at work

It’s been a dramatic week at work. When I first started working at the restaurant, I was told that money had been missing from the tills and that one of the girls was kind of suspected for stealing. I never asked who, and even though I know now that it kept happening even after I started, I never really heard anything about it because I never do the tills and I never work the real early shift which is when they would realize if money was missing.

But so last Thursday night it was just me and this girl, let’s call her Amanda (not like it matters but I like making up fake names), working and to make a long the story short 300 dollars ended up missing and when confronted she tried to blame part of it on me. Not saying that I had stolen it but that she had asked me to do a transaction she never asked me to do at all.
At first I felt bad, thinking I had misunderstood her or something, but now I’m starting to understand what a talented liar she is and how she has been manipulating people for a long time, talking shit about the other girls behind their backs, even accusing them of snorting coke(!) the night before work to make them look bad and stuff.

Anyways, yesterday she was fired and so now all that is over. There is always drama at work places, but there’s one thing gossiping about who’s lazy and who never cleans up after their lunch and another thing actually stealing and spreading lies about other people.

I’ve never stolen from work (energy drinks and pens don’t count) however, I am not above gossiping in any way….
The new girl, let’s call her Kimberly… has the worst work ethics out of anyone I’ve ever worked with. I even just took a moment to think if that’s actually true or an exaggeration, but no, it’s true.

She was hired about two weeks ago because she’s one of the other girl’s (who have worked there for ever) best friends and is just home for the summer and needed a job. Kimberly has just graduated from college. This makes her so important and over qualified for a simple waitress gig that it’s a privilege for the restaurant to just have her there… or so she seems to think, and acts like it. She does nothing, and I mean nothing, if you don’t specifically tell her to, unless it’s actually taking a table so she can score tips. But clean up, refilling coffee, stocking supplies, all that stuff… WAY below her level.
She has her one foot in a cast because of a stress fracture or something and half the time I work with her I just want to kick her healthy leg so she can’t walk at all. Wouldn’t make much of a difference, she sits down most of the time anyways…

Like I said, not above gossip in any way. But hey, at least I don’t steal.

If Pocatello is hell, then where's heaven...?

I think I’m just going to go do the written test for the Idaho driver’s license tomorrow, even though I didn’t really study for it, and if I fail then I’ll actually study before I take it again. It’s just 3 bucks and I feel like most of it is common sense anyways…. but I suppose we’ll see about that.

It’s not even 2 months left now before we move down to the armpit of Idaho; Pocatello. It’s so crazy, every time we tell someone that’s where we’re moving to, they’re like
“ooooh…you’re really going to go there?? Well… don’t worry, I’m sure it will be ok.” Or
“it’s not THAT bad, you’ll be all right”
or
“it’s not like it’s forever, and you can always come back here”
like we just announced we were moving to hell. I know it won’t be that bad, I actually think it will be kind of good. Just like Moscow or any small university town it will be what we make of it and with the right group of friends any place can be a good place. I’m actually kind of excited, in Pocatello we can finally
-unpack for real
-work on making friends for more than a month
-cook in a real kitchen
-close the bed room door so Daisy can’t keep us up by going Tazmanian Devil in our bed
And that’s just of the top of my head now… I can’t even imagine all the other things we’ll be able to do and get once stationary for real, (get a Costco card…) it should be an adventure. And one I’m ready for.

My grandfather is on the other side now. I hope he is enjoying himself there.

fathers- here and there

Father’s day in America is coming to an end. I think we spent it well, though. After Julie and Morgan’s wedding last night we got a kind of slow start, but then we took Darryl to a BBQ cook out and got stuff to make shish kebabs for dinner at their house. We rounded off with a game of Boulderdash (which I won) and then me and D headed back to our hyper cat who had been left alone for most of the day. I don’t think it’s hard or bad for her to be alone for a whole day now or then, pretty sure she just sleeps the entire time we’re gone, but then she gets so damn hyper when we come back.

And the wedding yesterday was fun indeed, weddings tend to be a good time though so no real chock there. The Huckelberry Lush that was our contribution to the potluck was popular and went fast. After the reception was over a lot of us went out on the town and I decided I am old for both the Beacon and the Icon; guess my fist pumping, ass shaking, screaming into people’s ears cause the music is too loud days are over.

Finally, I’m kind of having a hard time finding the rights word for this, my grandfather is dying. He has been for a while, but now it’s very close to the end and for all I know, it may already be over. After 87 healthy years, my dad says he seems at peace with the situation at 89 and is pretty calm, which is good to hear. But yeah… old people die, it’s how it goes, but it’s still sad. And I will miss him.

maybe it's the weather...

I am homesick. Today is my brother’s birthday, my grandparents are really unhealthy and will probably not be around much longer, my sister is going to give birth to my new little niece here pretty soon, next Friday is the Mid summer holiday and… I don’t know. I’m a long ways from home.
I was thinking about throwing a Mid summer’s party here but, it won’t happen. There’s no place to get the right food and we don’t have a ton of friends here that would come and it just kind of fell through. It’s ok though. I just feel out of place.

oops

I made Daisy bonk her head on the wall really hard today. I didn’t mean to, it was dark in the bed room and I thought she was on another part of the blanket. But so she ended up flying into the wall and there was a very definite bonk sound when her little skull hit the wall.

So sorry Dase… hope you didn’t get a concussion or loose any of the few brain cells I feel you should have resting in there even though you show no signs of it.

coffee

This morning I had Starbucks coffee. It is really good stuff. Expensive, no doubt about it, but every once in a while… and the fact that it is so pricy almost makes it taste even better. This whole drinking free espresso drinks at work thing is not good for my coffee pallet, I can tell. I’m getting picky and spoiled. When we get to Pocatello I have to get a coffee maker, no an espresso machine or anything, just a regular coffee maker. Right now I just drink the instant stuff here in the attic and it is no good, no good at all.

I like trying the different syrup flavours too, figure I might as well figure out which ones are good when I don’t have to pay for them. So far my favourites are chocolate and coconut, mixed. Hazelnut, vanilla, Irish cream and peppermint are good too, but I already knew that. Kahlua and English Toffee are tasty, Caramel and white chocolate way too sweet.
Almond and amaretto are disgusting, but somehow still fairly popular with our guests.
People who put fruity flavours in their coffee are just plain strange, I don’t know why you would do that. Then I don’t know why you would get an Italian soda either, those things are so gross, I feel bad charging people for them and always expect them to come back and tell me “I want my money back, I didn’t realize I was paying for water with sugar and whipped cream in it” and if they did I would give it back to them, but they never do.

At Moondollars we also offer decaf for people who want the flavour but not the effect and white coffee for people who want the effect but not the flavour. Maybe they should just have a steamer or a red bull instead (it would be way cheaper) I always think, but whatever…

the wheels on the bus go round and round

It really makes me sad that people who ride the bus here are so weird. Because everyone who doesn’t ride the bus (and act like I said “space shuttle” instead of bus) think only weirdos do and I don’t want them to be right. But they are.

Well, I mean, I don’t want to judge… is it weird to be pregnant in high school and show you belly to everyone on the bus and complain about not being able to smoke any weed at all because then social services will take your baby?
Is it weird to have fellow passenger guess your age, be super proud to be 39 and so well preserved (which could be up for discussion) and with such a handsome 19 year old, who is also on the bus but too busy playing paper rock scissors with a mentally handicapped woman to listen to his mother?
Is it weird to ask the driver what time it is every ten minutes?
Is it weird to paint your finger nails purple when you’re a grown man with biker tattoos on your arms?
Is it weird to take your kid on a bus ride to Wal Mart to celebrate their birthday?
I don’t know, is it?

I got a better schedule for this week so for now the plan is to stick with this job for the summer. Dylan started his new job today and Daisy had an eventful day as usual; sleep, play, jumping around in the high grass in the park for a bit and once back inside biting lots of toes. This apartment will definitely only be big enough for her this summer and then it will be good to be able to let her go outside more.

It's called kharma, but I don't think it's spelled like that...

If I am ever in a position to hire somebody, I will never tell them “ok, I’ll give you a call for sure” and then not. Call me crazy or naïve or whatever, but I feel like if you tell people you are going to call them, you should. Even if all you can say is “thanks, but we’re not interested.”

I work tonight and hopefully they’ll have next week’s schedule ready. I’m kind of curious to see what it looks like, if I really am getting phased out. The golf course is hiring and I will drop off an application there tomorrow.

Little miss Daisy is doing good and we are very glad she has finally figured out what the litter box is for. Last night she also survived being left on her own for the first time. Me and Dylan went to check out the Pub Quiz at the Moose Lounge downtown and it was actually pretty cool. If we can get a team rounded up, that would be a fun way to spend coming Wednesday nights.

Healthy Hair - week 2

Being on a Healty Hair Plan is kind of like having your hair on a diet where spray, mousse, wax and all that good stuff is candy, fast food and chocolate. I'm doing pretty good though, I think. Next week I'm going to go back to the brutally honest hair dresser lady and let her tell me how I'm actually doing.

Someone who has really soft and healthy hair is Daisy. That's our new kitten. Dylan went and picked her up Monday while I was at work. She pooped on the carpet the fist night and definitly has a thing for biting toes, but other than that, she's really adorable and has a sweet personality.

On the job front, things are not looking much different. It worked out kind of nice that I had so much time off this week (well, we both do) since that way Daisy doesn't have to be alone so much in the beginning. I still don't know my schedule for next week, but if it's as shitty as this week, I will look, harder, for a new job.

Food for Hair

I’m spending Sunday morning with a plastic bag on my head. Not trying to kill myself or anything, this is crazy in a very organic and healthy kind of way.
When I went to get a hair cut earlier this week, the hairdresser told me what I already know, plus some.
Ever since I made the very wise choice to get a volume perm in Ecuador and ended up paying 20 dollars to get my hair completely fried, it’s been, well, fried.
But this Cd’A based saloon lady just couldn’t get over it

“Oh my GOD, honey your hair is just FRIED!”
“Well, yeah…it’s really dry and stuff. I know”
“Not DRY, it’s terrible I mean JUST TERRIBLE!”
“mm hmm…”

And I told her the whole story, which is neither long nor complicated, and she kept asking me about what chemicals the Ecuadorian lady used and how long she left the different solutions in and stuff and I couldn’t really answer because
a) this was in September
b) I don’t speak Spanish so it’s not like I was communicating with her
c) I’m not a hairdresser so I left it to her to do her job

It was like when you watch a detective show on TV, how people think they don’t remember anything but when asked the right questions, there is actually a lot of information stored way back in a hidden storage room of your mind. So after about 15 minutes of detangling my terrible strands while digging through dusty boxes in my mental storage room, the stylist decided her South American colleague had not only used a method abandoned in the 80’s but also neglected to put neutralizer in my hair, leaving it to keep getting more and more fried in the sun for days to come.

“And look at this” holding up a piece of my hair “I mean JUST LOOK AT IT! Your poor poor, split ends… it’s not even like hair anymore, it’s like straw, like STRAW!”

At this point I was getting pretty annoyed. I mean fine, looking back it was not a good plan to go to a hairdresser I couldn’t really talk to and let her put chemicals in my hair for dirt cheap. But it’s not like I asked a wolf to watch my lamb, I want to think it was a normal tourist mistake that could have happen to anyone.
Also, the hair she was talking about is on my head. I see and touch it daily. There is no need to describe to me just how TERRIBLE it is. I know it.

Anyways, she combed and washed and put Moroccan oils in my straw for free and told me to go home and get on a serious healthy hair plan. I felt like I imagine fat people feel after the doctor tells them to loose weight or die, this lady meant business.
And so, here I sit now with a very ripe banana mixed with olive oils mushed into my hair, covered with a plastic bag and a hot towel. Dylan is playing soccer and I’m debating whether to leave the concoction in my hair a bit longer or jump in the shower right now and wash it out before he comes home and shares with me his thoughts on putting food in your hair and stick your head in a plastic bag…

Same Same? No, we're different.

Right now I'm trying to decide just how much pride I actually have. It's pretty hard. Pride is not something that's always worth more than money, which is sad. I don't have a ton of pride, that's for sure. But I might still have a little bit more than my opponant in this pre-school battle of wills. We will find out eventually. Soon, hopefully.

Today I had a table tip me 28 dollars. I felt bad though, cause I think they might not have realized they payed with a 50 and got a bunch of change back...after they had already left the restaurant. Well, I work all day tomorrow so if they come back and ask for it I'll give it back to them. That's karma. Some people need to look it up.

Austin’s show turned out good

Good:
It was a lot of fun, not just me, Dylan and Austin, but I think almost everyone one that showed up had a great time.
He sold some t-shirts, a $125 print and some hats.
The bands playing (for free) put on quite the show and attracted some people as well.
Most people (some after a lot of encouragement) actually put some money in the donation jar.

Not as good:
He didn’t sell (or was donated) enough to break even, or come close to it.
We had some very questionable 21 year olds downing drinks.
Not all people having a great time, rocking out for hours, had any idea they were actually attending an art show thrown by Austin Stiegemeier.

I had at least five conversations during the night that went a lot like this:

Me: good show, huh?
Person: Yeah, man! This is awesome!
Me: So, are you friends with Austin then?
Person: No dude, I’m with the band! I’m like, really with the band, I’ll introduce you if you want?
Me: cool… that alright, though. So you don’t know Austin?
Person: No man, who the hell is Austin?
Me: well, it’s that guy over there… and this is his show.

But Austin did seem pleased with the over all turn out and that’s what matters. Bottom line: it was a great show, a great party and people left happy.

Other than that, Memorial day weekend was a rainy one, they say that’s normal, I wouldn’t really know. I’m very glad Darryl decided to rent a house though, because camping would have been one wet adventure. We ended up spending most of the weekend in Birch Bay playing board games, watching VHS cassettes from the mid 80’s and drinking wine. It was a good time. I remember being excited as a child, every time my mom or dad would leave for a couple of days. There was something special about being able to spend time with just one parent; they would always let us eat extra good food, get dessert and rent movies and stay up later than usual. This weekend reminded me of that, quality time with papa Darryl is a good time.