So, there's a Jimmy Eat World and Green Day concert going on tonight in Columbia. That's right, you heard me. Two of my favourite bands...not too far away...and I'm missing them...
Oh car...I miss you so...
Oh well, c'est la vie. There will be more and BETTER opportunities for musical happiness. However, I can safely say that listening to Green Day is not really improving my state of mind.
Back at AU and I must say it is quite fantastic. I did miss this place horribly and getting attacked with welcomes from my friends (thank you Kat and Carey) the second I got out of the car was reassuring and made me feel very loved. Incidently, when I say attacked, I do mean attacked.
Spent the weekend catching up with people and am now offcially elbow deep in work. MY BOOKS OWN MY SOUL. Seriously. A few of my professors are nuts and ALL of them are like "there will be random, unannounced pop quizes to ENSURE THAT YOU DID YOU WORK AND READ MY BOOKS, YOU SLUTS!"
Dead serious. That's all true. Every last one of my professors called me a slut today. It hurt. Because it's true.
At any rate...all of my classes are good...I'm happy with them and am mildly entertaining the possibility of a dual major in justice and anthroplogy...we'll see how Genocide goes...if I can handle that I can handle ANYTHING in that major. MWAHAHA! I WILL OWN THE POINTLESS MAJORS!
On another note...I'm still obsessed with Russia...more so than ever...because clearly, I like the pain.
24 August 2005
Readers Beware, You're in for a Scare
Anyone actually remember where that comes from? Oh the Early 90s...how I miss thee...
At any rate...plowing forward onto the inspiration behind this ridiculously early posting...
Somehow this morning, mid coffee, my mom got me to start talking about my beliefs, where I stand and about fate, karma, destiny and all those interesting topics which are, quite frankly, too damn deep for any time pre-noon.
But at any rate...I'd like to put down my thoughts here. And by thoughts I do mean exactly what I say. These are just ideas, they are not beliefs. To quote Chris Rock from Dogma (which is actually a movie with a lot more potential than most people realize) "People should have ideas...I mean, you can change an idea...beliefs are a lot trickier to change." What I'm thinking here is not strong enough to be considered a belief...I mean, after all, I'm not going to go killing the next person I see because they think something differently than I do, and let's face it, a lot of beliefs had ended up that way.
So here goes...I would like all of you to picture a metaphorical pitcher of water...and millions upon millions of glasses...some full of water...some empty. Image, if you will, that the pitcher of water is not actually water at all, but rather but a collective gathering of souls, spirits, essenses, whatever you want to call it. You get the idea. Those glasses (both those that are full and those that are empty) are representations of the bodies of men, women and children...every person on the face of the planet, and every person who will be or has ever been has a glass. Those that are currently alive are full, those who are waiting to be born or those who are already deceased are empty. When you die, in my thoughts, your water (aka your immortal soul) gets poured back into the pitcher and everything you ever did, every thought, idea, belief you ever held (all a part of who you are) gets poured right back in there. Who you are, your life, changes the pitcher of water...the collective of souls...and part of you, even if its just the tiniest bit, gets poured into the next child to be born and the next child after that...on and on for eternity.
Let me be very very clear on this...in my thoughts, this is true for every person who has ever walked the planet. That includes the great people, the Ghandis and the Mother Teresas....but it also includes the horrible people...the Hitlers and the Polpots...In my thoughts...everyone goes back in and what they did during their life changes the collective, thus leaving their impact on humanity forever.
So...there is my justification for being a good person and attempting to do the right things. For me, it's not about earning the favor of a higher power, it's about doing what is best for the collective, changing it for the better through your life and through your actions.
And where does a higher power come into all of this? Very simply actually...I am not an atheist, nor will I ever be...so a higher power does enter into this...in my view, one called God, Allah, Creator...whatever you wish..is the one who picks up the pitcher to refill the glasses...the glasses are all poured equally, so everyone is made equally and all that jazz...
So there you have it...my current stance...as previously stated, this is not a belief, it is just an idea...open to change, very fluid. I realize there's holes in it, I realize it's somewhat childlike but I also realize that it's not something I'm willing to die for...something I'm willing to defend until I'm blue in the face because for me..it's just a starting point...something to build something bigger and something greater on...but for me at least, it's a damned good start.
Now...on to a different topic...I would like all of you to refer back to the entry of Wednesday, June 22, 2005. http://catorisedai.blogspot.com/2005/06/insert-random-lyrics-from-sahara-here.html#comments OK, now since I know all of you are lazy, children of the internet age and can't even bring yourself to click a friggin link, I'll paraphrase. This was the details of my visit to see Dr. Friedrich, my dermatologist...about a suspicious bump on my left arm. Once again...he declared me perfectly fine but took one look at my mother, declared that she was a walking, cancerous mole and ordered her back in a month for surgery. She had 2 moles removed last week and he sent them off for a bioposy. She, the Gloriosos and I were standing in the road, chatting yesterday when he walked past walking his little daschshund. He walked up to inspect her arm, saying "Yeah...we just got those bioposies back..they were precancerous..we got them off just in time..." Yep, that's right...even though my mom's been to a number of dermatologists...none of them ever spotted it..until he found them when it was actually MY appointment. So...basically...when I hurt myself 15 years ago and caused that scar tissue...though it might have been painful for me at the time...ended up probably saving my mom's life...
Damn...can anyone actually doubt fate when something like that happens?
At any rate...plowing forward onto the inspiration behind this ridiculously early posting...
Somehow this morning, mid coffee, my mom got me to start talking about my beliefs, where I stand and about fate, karma, destiny and all those interesting topics which are, quite frankly, too damn deep for any time pre-noon.
But at any rate...I'd like to put down my thoughts here. And by thoughts I do mean exactly what I say. These are just ideas, they are not beliefs. To quote Chris Rock from Dogma (which is actually a movie with a lot more potential than most people realize) "People should have ideas...I mean, you can change an idea...beliefs are a lot trickier to change." What I'm thinking here is not strong enough to be considered a belief...I mean, after all, I'm not going to go killing the next person I see because they think something differently than I do, and let's face it, a lot of beliefs had ended up that way.
So here goes...I would like all of you to picture a metaphorical pitcher of water...and millions upon millions of glasses...some full of water...some empty. Image, if you will, that the pitcher of water is not actually water at all, but rather but a collective gathering of souls, spirits, essenses, whatever you want to call it. You get the idea. Those glasses (both those that are full and those that are empty) are representations of the bodies of men, women and children...every person on the face of the planet, and every person who will be or has ever been has a glass. Those that are currently alive are full, those who are waiting to be born or those who are already deceased are empty. When you die, in my thoughts, your water (aka your immortal soul) gets poured back into the pitcher and everything you ever did, every thought, idea, belief you ever held (all a part of who you are) gets poured right back in there. Who you are, your life, changes the pitcher of water...the collective of souls...and part of you, even if its just the tiniest bit, gets poured into the next child to be born and the next child after that...on and on for eternity.
Let me be very very clear on this...in my thoughts, this is true for every person who has ever walked the planet. That includes the great people, the Ghandis and the Mother Teresas....but it also includes the horrible people...the Hitlers and the Polpots...In my thoughts...everyone goes back in and what they did during their life changes the collective, thus leaving their impact on humanity forever.
So...there is my justification for being a good person and attempting to do the right things. For me, it's not about earning the favor of a higher power, it's about doing what is best for the collective, changing it for the better through your life and through your actions.
And where does a higher power come into all of this? Very simply actually...I am not an atheist, nor will I ever be...so a higher power does enter into this...in my view, one called God, Allah, Creator...whatever you wish..is the one who picks up the pitcher to refill the glasses...the glasses are all poured equally, so everyone is made equally and all that jazz...
So there you have it...my current stance...as previously stated, this is not a belief, it is just an idea...open to change, very fluid. I realize there's holes in it, I realize it's somewhat childlike but I also realize that it's not something I'm willing to die for...something I'm willing to defend until I'm blue in the face because for me..it's just a starting point...something to build something bigger and something greater on...but for me at least, it's a damned good start.
Now...on to a different topic...I would like all of you to refer back to the entry of Wednesday, June 22, 2005. http://catorisedai.blogspot.com/2005/06/insert-random-lyrics-from-sahara-here.html#comments OK, now since I know all of you are lazy, children of the internet age and can't even bring yourself to click a friggin link, I'll paraphrase. This was the details of my visit to see Dr. Friedrich, my dermatologist...about a suspicious bump on my left arm. Once again...he declared me perfectly fine but took one look at my mother, declared that she was a walking, cancerous mole and ordered her back in a month for surgery. She had 2 moles removed last week and he sent them off for a bioposy. She, the Gloriosos and I were standing in the road, chatting yesterday when he walked past walking his little daschshund. He walked up to inspect her arm, saying "Yeah...we just got those bioposies back..they were precancerous..we got them off just in time..." Yep, that's right...even though my mom's been to a number of dermatologists...none of them ever spotted it..until he found them when it was actually MY appointment. So...basically...when I hurt myself 15 years ago and caused that scar tissue...though it might have been painful for me at the time...ended up probably saving my mom's life...
Damn...can anyone actually doubt fate when something like that happens?
22 August 2005
Irony is just hypocrisy in drag...
This weekend I...
~Heard the line "I haven't seen you since you were *insert random amount of measurement here* big!" approximately 83 times.
~Listened to a really bad Christian rock band first proclaim their undying love for God...then immediately proceed to playing Britney Spears' "best hits"
~Was woken up at 7 in the morning by screaming children
~Was told repeatedly that I looked exactly like my mother/grandmother and my sister (except my mother/grandmother and my sister look NOTHING alike)
~Was told that I could not drive my car 2 miles home because I'd had a glass of Chianti and a sip or two of Corona and Smirnoff...4 hours and 2 bottles of water after the actual alcohol consumption took place...(this, I found more amusing than anything else...)
~Was hit on by a 90 year old man...who was a friend of my grandfather...
~Watched 2 of my great aunts (aged appx. 70-75 years old) dance to "Hollaback Girl"
~Listened as 2 aforementioned great aunts had, for lack of a better term, a smackdown with my great Uncle Ralph. Later laughed as great Uncle Ralph more or less ran away, cowering in fear.
Yep, that's right people...this weekend was my annual family reunion...one day I'm going to secretly videotape this annual event...just as proof that things like this actually happen...
...Rasputin arrived today and he is aammaazziinngg. Completely worth the summer of hell to get him...
To my AU darlings...I'm not coming back to school till Saturday morning as my Uncle Danny and Aunt Joanne have decided to stay with us until Friday night...sorry loves...I thought I'd be able to get down there on Thursday or Friday at the latest...Le sigh...I may return to school muttering some nonsense about my Uncle Danny but..once again, I shall return with some fantastic stories...
I'm beginning to think I'm a bit of a whore...with my blog...I change my title all the time...I think the longest I've ever had one title was "Time Alone Is Good, I Spend My Days in the City" and that was a few months at best...Alas, there is an actual story behind this new title, it's not some random song lyric (because, I mean...then it would have to be a country lyric...and we all know I don't listen to country...oh wait...that's a lie since I just ripped Kenny Rogers onto Rasputin...but he has such a nice beard, how could I refuse?)
If anyone besides the Great Baba Nagusch gets that reference...well, clearly you've risen above the lowly level of stalker and have officially infiltrated my thoughts...damn the hippies and their Freedom of Information Act!
And now, before I lose my collection of min...I mean friends...I'm just going to tais toi...
Adieu
...In da club with mah homies...
~Heard the line "I haven't seen you since you were *insert random amount of measurement here* big!" approximately 83 times.
~Listened to a really bad Christian rock band first proclaim their undying love for God...then immediately proceed to playing Britney Spears' "best hits"
~Was woken up at 7 in the morning by screaming children
~Was told repeatedly that I looked exactly like my mother/grandmother and my sister (except my mother/grandmother and my sister look NOTHING alike)
~Was told that I could not drive my car 2 miles home because I'd had a glass of Chianti and a sip or two of Corona and Smirnoff...4 hours and 2 bottles of water after the actual alcohol consumption took place...(this, I found more amusing than anything else...)
~Was hit on by a 90 year old man...who was a friend of my grandfather...
~Watched 2 of my great aunts (aged appx. 70-75 years old) dance to "Hollaback Girl"
~Listened as 2 aforementioned great aunts had, for lack of a better term, a smackdown with my great Uncle Ralph. Later laughed as great Uncle Ralph more or less ran away, cowering in fear.
Yep, that's right people...this weekend was my annual family reunion...one day I'm going to secretly videotape this annual event...just as proof that things like this actually happen...
...Rasputin arrived today and he is aammaazziinngg. Completely worth the summer of hell to get him...
To my AU darlings...I'm not coming back to school till Saturday morning as my Uncle Danny and Aunt Joanne have decided to stay with us until Friday night...sorry loves...I thought I'd be able to get down there on Thursday or Friday at the latest...Le sigh...I may return to school muttering some nonsense about my Uncle Danny but..once again, I shall return with some fantastic stories...
I'm beginning to think I'm a bit of a whore...with my blog...I change my title all the time...I think the longest I've ever had one title was "Time Alone Is Good, I Spend My Days in the City" and that was a few months at best...Alas, there is an actual story behind this new title, it's not some random song lyric (because, I mean...then it would have to be a country lyric...and we all know I don't listen to country...oh wait...that's a lie since I just ripped Kenny Rogers onto Rasputin...but he has such a nice beard, how could I refuse?)
If anyone besides the Great Baba Nagusch gets that reference...well, clearly you've risen above the lowly level of stalker and have officially infiltrated my thoughts...damn the hippies and their Freedom of Information Act!
And now, before I lose my collection of min...I mean friends...I'm just going to tais toi...
Adieu
...In da club with mah homies...
16 August 2005
I prefer the silence.
Well...yet another humorous (I hope) update from the land of fast food...aka Arby's...
As many of you may know, I typically do not befriend people I work with...I very seldom have much in common with them, aside from shared hatred of our job....conversations would go something like this...
Random Arby's Employee: Hey
Ash: Hey.
*silence*
Ash: So work sucks...
Random Arby's Employee: Yep. Sure does, yo.
Ash: *dies*
Random Arby's Employee: Word.
...so, in order to avoid a painful and ghastly death, I keep my co-workers at arm's length. However...every now and then there are one or two who are just too damn funny not to love...and today, I am here to talk about the antics of one called Brian.
Now, for my YCers...I ask you to remember Paschke...put red hair on him and a more outlandish sense of humour and you have Brian. Literally. It's mildly frightening. For my non-YCers...Brian is an overly enthusiastic, mildly obnoxious, outwardly self confidant teddy bear. He's about 6'4 and is a pretty big guy overall.
Now picture that lumbering towards you asking for a hug. This is my life on a daily basis. However, I am not here to discuss the therapy one must go through after being forced to be hugged by Brian..but I am here to relay the experiences of two others...and now...I go into dramatic writing mode...
Setting: Arby's. 7pm. Jeremy the Thug is going on break and waiting in line to get something to eat. Ashley is refilling marinara sauces over in the corner. Brian is taking Jeremy the Thug's order.
Jeremy the Thug: What up, yo. Get me some *insert random Arby's food here* And give me my goddamn 50% discount. Word, yo.
Brian: *jokingly* I refuse to give you the discount.
JtT: WTF?!!?
Brian: *continues to joke* No disocunt for you. HAHAHAHA!
*Ashley is unaware of the antics at the front register, and continues happily filling up the marinaras*
*Brian and Jeremy the Thug begin to physically struggle over the discount. Both are deadlocked, gripping each other over the register. Ashley turns around and sees what appears to be two very large men embracing each other while screaming*
Ashley: OK...whatever...didn't know y'all were into that but whatever gets you through the night...
Jeremey the Thug: *mortified* THIS IS ABOUT MY DISCOUNT!
Ashley: Regular customer of Brian's then, eh? Didn't know he was so much in demand...
Jeremey the Thug: *dies*
Brian: *falls over laughing* Jeremey the Thug...you and I have just had an Arby's moment...give me a hug...we need to commemorate this event...
Jeremey the Thug: NO WAY MAN! *darts off across the restaurant at a lope*
*Brian proceeds to chase Jeremy the Thug around the restaurant with his arms open, demanding a hug. Jeremy the Thug darts past Ashley with a wild, frantic look in his eyes*
Jeremy the Thug: HELP ME!
Brian: I JUST WANT A HUG!!!!
And on to story number 2!! Unfortunately, I was not present for this one...but I will do the best I can to relay the story as accurately as humanly possible.
Setting: Arby's. Pre-lunch Rush. Brian has just been yelled at by a customer and is feeling rather blue so he asks Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady, for a hug to make him feel better...the following conversation ensues...
Brian: I am so sad. Woe is me. Val, can I have a hug?
Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady: *brightly* Wait one second Brian! Wait right here! I'll be right back! *Trots off happily to the back office*
Brian: OK.
*Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady runs to the back and returns holding a piece of paper*
Brian: What's that?
V,tKFNDTL: This is the sexual harassment policy of Sybra, Inc. Let me read it to you in it's entirity.
*V,tKFNDTL proceeds to read through 2 pages describing the nature, effects and punishment policy of sexual harassment to a dumbstruck Brian, who has been glued into place either by shock or by Kung Foo Val*
Brian: BUT I JUST WANTED A HUG!!!!
As many of you may know, I typically do not befriend people I work with...I very seldom have much in common with them, aside from shared hatred of our job....conversations would go something like this...
Random Arby's Employee: Hey
Ash: Hey.
*silence*
Ash: So work sucks...
Random Arby's Employee: Yep. Sure does, yo.
Ash: *dies*
Random Arby's Employee: Word.
...so, in order to avoid a painful and ghastly death, I keep my co-workers at arm's length. However...every now and then there are one or two who are just too damn funny not to love...and today, I am here to talk about the antics of one called Brian.
Now, for my YCers...I ask you to remember Paschke...put red hair on him and a more outlandish sense of humour and you have Brian. Literally. It's mildly frightening. For my non-YCers...Brian is an overly enthusiastic, mildly obnoxious, outwardly self confidant teddy bear. He's about 6'4 and is a pretty big guy overall.
Now picture that lumbering towards you asking for a hug. This is my life on a daily basis. However, I am not here to discuss the therapy one must go through after being forced to be hugged by Brian..but I am here to relay the experiences of two others...and now...I go into dramatic writing mode...
Setting: Arby's. 7pm. Jeremy the Thug is going on break and waiting in line to get something to eat. Ashley is refilling marinara sauces over in the corner. Brian is taking Jeremy the Thug's order.
Jeremy the Thug: What up, yo. Get me some *insert random Arby's food here* And give me my goddamn 50% discount. Word, yo.
Brian: *jokingly* I refuse to give you the discount.
JtT: WTF?!!?
Brian: *continues to joke* No disocunt for you. HAHAHAHA!
*Ashley is unaware of the antics at the front register, and continues happily filling up the marinaras*
*Brian and Jeremy the Thug begin to physically struggle over the discount. Both are deadlocked, gripping each other over the register. Ashley turns around and sees what appears to be two very large men embracing each other while screaming*
Ashley: OK...whatever...didn't know y'all were into that but whatever gets you through the night...
Jeremey the Thug: *mortified* THIS IS ABOUT MY DISCOUNT!
Ashley: Regular customer of Brian's then, eh? Didn't know he was so much in demand...
Jeremey the Thug: *dies*
Brian: *falls over laughing* Jeremey the Thug...you and I have just had an Arby's moment...give me a hug...we need to commemorate this event...
Jeremey the Thug: NO WAY MAN! *darts off across the restaurant at a lope*
*Brian proceeds to chase Jeremy the Thug around the restaurant with his arms open, demanding a hug. Jeremy the Thug darts past Ashley with a wild, frantic look in his eyes*
Jeremy the Thug: HELP ME!
Brian: I JUST WANT A HUG!!!!
And on to story number 2!! Unfortunately, I was not present for this one...but I will do the best I can to relay the story as accurately as humanly possible.
Setting: Arby's. Pre-lunch Rush. Brian has just been yelled at by a customer and is feeling rather blue so he asks Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady, for a hug to make him feel better...the following conversation ensues...
Brian: I am so sad. Woe is me. Val, can I have a hug?
Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady: *brightly* Wait one second Brian! Wait right here! I'll be right back! *Trots off happily to the back office*
Brian: OK.
*Val, the Kung Foo Ninja Drive Thru Lady runs to the back and returns holding a piece of paper*
Brian: What's that?
V,tKFNDTL: This is the sexual harassment policy of Sybra, Inc. Let me read it to you in it's entirity.
*V,tKFNDTL proceeds to read through 2 pages describing the nature, effects and punishment policy of sexual harassment to a dumbstruck Brian, who has been glued into place either by shock or by Kung Foo Val*
Brian: BUT I JUST WANTED A HUG!!!!
14 August 2005
I don't even know where to begin with this one...
...but hey, I'll try...
Last night was my first night closing drive thru window at Arby's. Some of you might be thinking "YAY! Ash loves to close! Good for her!" And while yes, it's true, I do love to close usually (a lot of hours, relatively easy since most people don't eat fast food that late) last night was a mixture of the good and the bad, the funny and the painful, the ugly and the shockingly grotesque...
It all began last night around 10:30...one of my fellow workers, Jackie, is a minor. And as all of you who had actual jobs know, minors in Pennsylvania can't work more than like 5 hours without a break and can't work more than 8 hours in a day. So Jackie was closing dining room and absolutely had to be clocked out no later than 10:45 or Dawn (the mgr) would get bitch slapped by the DPW (I swear to god...those people friggin stalk me...they are EVERYWHERE I GO). Now, normally, getting dining room closed by 10:30 isn't a big deal...but this night everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. First off we got customers at like 9:45 who insisted that a) they had every right to sit in the dining room and eat and b) that they could certainly finish in 15 minutes. HOW UTTERLY WRONG THEY WERE. They sat there, eating with all the speed and grace of a giraffe, until appx. 10:15. So Jackie could barely get anything done...she couldn't put up chairs, she couldn't sweep and she had to leave. Who got to finish her crap? If you didn't guess me, clearly you are on crack and do not know who's blog you are reading.
OK...so in addition to getting all of my stuff done, I had to do about half of her crap. OK. Cool. Whatever, I'm a pro at closing dining room and I got it all done in about 20 minutes. I rock.
So for the rest of the night, until around 11:30, I had some interesting conversations with Elias. Well, yay. All's quiet on the western front. But then...like the Hunchback clanging the bell at Notre Dame, 11:30 hit...
Now I know what everyone is thinking. You're guessing that I'm going to tell you that somehow, demonically, a line of cars wrapped its way around the building, and all the demons wanted roast beef and our souls, right? I wish...
...at 11:30, we got a singular order. Very simple in nature, very complex and hilarious and horrible in everything else....I'm just going to reiteratate my conversation with him (yes, we had a conversation, via drive thru speaker) as best I can though I make no promises on the complete accuracy as I still can't entirely believe this happened....This caller will henceforth be known as the King of the Bigots (KotB). You will understand in due course...
*ding ding*
Elias: FUCKING IDIOTS! I HATE CUSTOMERS!
Me: *chuckles softly* Hi! Thanks for chosing Arby's drive thru, can I get you a chicken cordon combo today? (shut up, all of you, I have to say that or they'll fire me)
KotB: *drunk/stoned off his ass and speaking with a mild southern twang* Do y'all have MILKSHAKES?
Me: Yes, we do. We have vanilla, chocolate, chocolate peanut butter and jamocha.
KotB: JAMOCHA? WTF is JAMOCHA?
Me: It's chocolate coffee. A lot of people like it...
KotB: Oh..well...I only want it if you put a black woman in the cup...do you put a black woman in the cup?
Me: Excuse me?
KotB: BLACK WOMAN! IS SHE IN THE CUP!?
Me: Ummm...no, sorry, just the chocolate coffee...
KotB: Oh..ok...well...it doesn't matter 'cus I don't trust the quality of y'alls black women...and it's only good if she's upside down in the cup...so I'll just have a chocolate...
Me: *LAUGHING MY ASS OFF* OK!!!! What size? *continues laughing*
KotB: Medium...
Me: *Note: at this point I cannot stand up, I'm laughing so hard as this guy is clearly too intoxicated to know what he is saying* OK sir, pull up to the window and we'll have your total there...
KotB: *at the window* I bet y'all see more of that in HOLLYWOOD. *drives away, swerving slightly and runs over a median*
Me: *still laughing*
Elias: I can't believe that just happened...
Me: I love people.
*5 minutes later*
Elias saunters (yes, he saunters) up to me as I'm resting my arms head on my arms on the drive thru ledge, looking longingly outside at the clear night, still pondering the previous events. The following conversation ensues...
Elias: Hey, unless you absolutely have to be, don't be at that window.
Me: *paying no heed* Why?
Elias: Well, apparently a crackhead has taken up residence in our parking lot. I saw him slouching past the front door a minute ago.
Me: *jumps away from window and looks for a large bat to wield, should said crackhead get through the window* Seriously?
Elias: Yeah, I could tell he was a crackhead because he was slouched over and moving faster than any normal person should. Not to mention the whole sleeping in a parking lot thing...
Me: We're going to die tonight, aren't we?
*Enter Dawn*
Dawn: Let's just hope he's too high to realize how easy it is to get through that window...but if he isn't...Elias, you beat him off of Ashley while I call the cops.
Elias: Stay away from the fucking window.
*Dark figure slouches past front door again*
Curtain
So..in conclusion kids...
a) don't do crack
b) REASON NUMBER 857 TO FINISH COLLEGE: THIS ENTIRE NIGHT
Last night was my first night closing drive thru window at Arby's. Some of you might be thinking "YAY! Ash loves to close! Good for her!" And while yes, it's true, I do love to close usually (a lot of hours, relatively easy since most people don't eat fast food that late) last night was a mixture of the good and the bad, the funny and the painful, the ugly and the shockingly grotesque...
It all began last night around 10:30...one of my fellow workers, Jackie, is a minor. And as all of you who had actual jobs know, minors in Pennsylvania can't work more than like 5 hours without a break and can't work more than 8 hours in a day. So Jackie was closing dining room and absolutely had to be clocked out no later than 10:45 or Dawn (the mgr) would get bitch slapped by the DPW (I swear to god...those people friggin stalk me...they are EVERYWHERE I GO). Now, normally, getting dining room closed by 10:30 isn't a big deal...but this night everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. First off we got customers at like 9:45 who insisted that a) they had every right to sit in the dining room and eat and b) that they could certainly finish in 15 minutes. HOW UTTERLY WRONG THEY WERE. They sat there, eating with all the speed and grace of a giraffe, until appx. 10:15. So Jackie could barely get anything done...she couldn't put up chairs, she couldn't sweep and she had to leave. Who got to finish her crap? If you didn't guess me, clearly you are on crack and do not know who's blog you are reading.
OK...so in addition to getting all of my stuff done, I had to do about half of her crap. OK. Cool. Whatever, I'm a pro at closing dining room and I got it all done in about 20 minutes. I rock.
So for the rest of the night, until around 11:30, I had some interesting conversations with Elias. Well, yay. All's quiet on the western front. But then...like the Hunchback clanging the bell at Notre Dame, 11:30 hit...
Now I know what everyone is thinking. You're guessing that I'm going to tell you that somehow, demonically, a line of cars wrapped its way around the building, and all the demons wanted roast beef and our souls, right? I wish...
...at 11:30, we got a singular order. Very simple in nature, very complex and hilarious and horrible in everything else....I'm just going to reiteratate my conversation with him (yes, we had a conversation, via drive thru speaker) as best I can though I make no promises on the complete accuracy as I still can't entirely believe this happened....This caller will henceforth be known as the King of the Bigots (KotB). You will understand in due course...
*ding ding*
Elias: FUCKING IDIOTS! I HATE CUSTOMERS!
Me: *chuckles softly* Hi! Thanks for chosing Arby's drive thru, can I get you a chicken cordon combo today? (shut up, all of you, I have to say that or they'll fire me)
KotB: *drunk/stoned off his ass and speaking with a mild southern twang* Do y'all have MILKSHAKES?
Me: Yes, we do. We have vanilla, chocolate, chocolate peanut butter and jamocha.
KotB: JAMOCHA? WTF is JAMOCHA?
Me: It's chocolate coffee. A lot of people like it...
KotB: Oh..well...I only want it if you put a black woman in the cup...do you put a black woman in the cup?
Me: Excuse me?
KotB: BLACK WOMAN! IS SHE IN THE CUP!?
Me: Ummm...no, sorry, just the chocolate coffee...
KotB: Oh..ok...well...it doesn't matter 'cus I don't trust the quality of y'alls black women...and it's only good if she's upside down in the cup...so I'll just have a chocolate...
Me: *LAUGHING MY ASS OFF* OK!!!! What size? *continues laughing*
KotB: Medium...
Me: *Note: at this point I cannot stand up, I'm laughing so hard as this guy is clearly too intoxicated to know what he is saying* OK sir, pull up to the window and we'll have your total there...
KotB: *at the window* I bet y'all see more of that in HOLLYWOOD. *drives away, swerving slightly and runs over a median*
Me: *still laughing*
Elias: I can't believe that just happened...
Me: I love people.
*5 minutes later*
Elias saunters (yes, he saunters) up to me as I'm resting my arms head on my arms on the drive thru ledge, looking longingly outside at the clear night, still pondering the previous events. The following conversation ensues...
Elias: Hey, unless you absolutely have to be, don't be at that window.
Me: *paying no heed* Why?
Elias: Well, apparently a crackhead has taken up residence in our parking lot. I saw him slouching past the front door a minute ago.
Me: *jumps away from window and looks for a large bat to wield, should said crackhead get through the window* Seriously?
Elias: Yeah, I could tell he was a crackhead because he was slouched over and moving faster than any normal person should. Not to mention the whole sleeping in a parking lot thing...
Me: We're going to die tonight, aren't we?
*Enter Dawn*
Dawn: Let's just hope he's too high to realize how easy it is to get through that window...but if he isn't...Elias, you beat him off of Ashley while I call the cops.
Elias: Stay away from the fucking window.
*Dark figure slouches past front door again*
Curtain
So..in conclusion kids...
a) don't do crack
b) REASON NUMBER 857 TO FINISH COLLEGE: THIS ENTIRE NIGHT
08 August 2005
One laid to rest in a field under starlings and crows...
...to say that Flogging Molly was quite excellent would be a horrible horrible understatement. They were...amazing...and who knew that Gypsie punk rock could be so damn good? Gogol Bordello...I salut thee...and anyone who gets the irony in the name Gogol Bordello...
At any rate, the concert made me ridiciulously happy...good music, great friends, awesome memories..."If you want to, we could totally go crawl into the neighbor's hot tub at 4 am...just don't drink their beer or use their kitchen sink"...thank you, Mr. Paul, for entertaining conversation between sets and thank you also for the invitation to get RAPED, but I think I'll pass, as I don't think I could live with myself if I dated a guy who had intelligence on par with the average snow crab.
Yay for 8 hours of work on 4 hours of sleep! If you will just please come and chop off my feet, I'll be your slave forever (though, granted, I couldn't really offer that much as a slave..)
At any rate, the concert made me ridiciulously happy...good music, great friends, awesome memories..."If you want to, we could totally go crawl into the neighbor's hot tub at 4 am...just don't drink their beer or use their kitchen sink"...thank you, Mr. Paul, for entertaining conversation between sets and thank you also for the invitation to get RAPED, but I think I'll pass, as I don't think I could live with myself if I dated a guy who had intelligence on par with the average snow crab.
Yay for 8 hours of work on 4 hours of sleep! If you will just please come and chop off my feet, I'll be your slave forever (though, granted, I couldn't really offer that much as a slave..)
05 August 2005
No, David, I am not trading sexual favors with Flogging Molly for an autographed CD for you!!!!
Yeah...I feel like that shouldn't have been my header but hey...whatever...
SO! Today (or rather tonight) I'm here to talk to y'all about a pair of pants. Yes, you heard me correctly, a pair of pants. NO! This is not a magical pair of pants that miraculously fit everyone who wears them...they fit only me...however...I would like to tell you their story...
Let us first begin with a description of said pants, yes?
These pants are stretchy jeans...supposedly coloured black. They're just slightly too long for me in the back, which is actually how I like my jeans. By "supposedly coloured black" I mean that these jeans are approximately 2 years old and they've been through the mill...a lot...they've been hit with bleach and are oddly discoloured in places and have been washed so many times I think they are more appropriately described as grey than as black. They've been washed so many times that they are developing holes everywhere...holes that I am desperately trying to ignore for the next 15 days or so...At any rate...I really hope that y'all are smart enough to have come to this conclusion by now..but for those slow puppies out there...yes...I am describing my work pants.
Now...these pants have seen me through 2 tours of duty safely...that is...employment at 2 different fast food restaurants, Wendy's and Arby's respectively (god help my poor poor soul). And they've certainly bourne the war wounds of my endeavours at attaining money...however, because of the horrible memories attached to fast food for me, I feel no loyalty to the pants...none what so ever.
So...basically...my time as a minimum wage slave at fast food is coming to a close...I already have a job lined up for next summer, and I have no intention to work over breaks. So, with any luck AT ALL (felix felicis, I NEED YOU!!) I will never have to put on those pants again...
...to commemorate this incredibly special occasion...and to make sure that I never put on those damn pants again...I am going to burn these pants. If you think I'm kidding..you are horribly mistaken...and yes..in my head I said that with my Pennsylvania accent. I'm setting these damn pants on fire to attempt to purge the horrible summers of fast food from my memories...
On some random notes...thanks to Steve and Kat for commenting on my last entry, your opinions mean a lot to me...however, Steve, you have made me realize that I'm going to hell because I would, in fact, leave a boyfriend if someone better came along (depending upon the current relationship, of course).
Let's see...ummm...I officially hate people who punctuate every sentence with "yo." Not that I didn't before, mind you, but now it's official. Seriously, do you know how stupid you sound? I hate even more the people who declared ebonics an official language. Fuckers.
Is it sad that AU (sorry that isn't AU red and AU blue by the way..I guess that's the SOUL BENEFIT FOR SPENDING THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON THE PATENTS FOR COLOURS! STUDENTS CAN'T USE THEM TO MOCK YOU IN THEIR BLOGS. Oh wait, I just did that. You officially fail, though I still love you so very much) has given me no choice but to put my advisor in my cell phone contacts list?
FLOGGING MOLLY on Saturday. Can you say woot?!?!?!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to a very special ADAM! My dearest husband, much love, though I have no idea what to get you.
NICHOLAS! Good luck on Saturday, you'll do great (as you always do) and then can finally get sleep again.
SO! Today (or rather tonight) I'm here to talk to y'all about a pair of pants. Yes, you heard me correctly, a pair of pants. NO! This is not a magical pair of pants that miraculously fit everyone who wears them...they fit only me...however...I would like to tell you their story...
Let us first begin with a description of said pants, yes?
These pants are stretchy jeans...supposedly coloured black. They're just slightly too long for me in the back, which is actually how I like my jeans. By "supposedly coloured black" I mean that these jeans are approximately 2 years old and they've been through the mill...a lot...they've been hit with bleach and are oddly discoloured in places and have been washed so many times I think they are more appropriately described as grey than as black. They've been washed so many times that they are developing holes everywhere...holes that I am desperately trying to ignore for the next 15 days or so...At any rate...I really hope that y'all are smart enough to have come to this conclusion by now..but for those slow puppies out there...yes...I am describing my work pants.
Now...these pants have seen me through 2 tours of duty safely...that is...employment at 2 different fast food restaurants, Wendy's and Arby's respectively (god help my poor poor soul). And they've certainly bourne the war wounds of my endeavours at attaining money...however, because of the horrible memories attached to fast food for me, I feel no loyalty to the pants...none what so ever.
So...basically...my time as a minimum wage slave at fast food is coming to a close...I already have a job lined up for next summer, and I have no intention to work over breaks. So, with any luck AT ALL (felix felicis, I NEED YOU!!) I will never have to put on those pants again...
...to commemorate this incredibly special occasion...and to make sure that I never put on those damn pants again...I am going to burn these pants. If you think I'm kidding..you are horribly mistaken...and yes..in my head I said that with my Pennsylvania accent. I'm setting these damn pants on fire to attempt to purge the horrible summers of fast food from my memories...
On some random notes...thanks to Steve and Kat for commenting on my last entry, your opinions mean a lot to me...however, Steve, you have made me realize that I'm going to hell because I would, in fact, leave a boyfriend if someone better came along (depending upon the current relationship, of course).
Let's see...ummm...I officially hate people who punctuate every sentence with "yo." Not that I didn't before, mind you, but now it's official. Seriously, do you know how stupid you sound? I hate even more the people who declared ebonics an official language. Fuckers.
Is it sad that AU (sorry that isn't AU red and AU blue by the way..I guess that's the SOUL BENEFIT FOR SPENDING THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON THE PATENTS FOR COLOURS! STUDENTS CAN'T USE THEM TO MOCK YOU IN THEIR BLOGS. Oh wait, I just did that. You officially fail, though I still love you so very much) has given me no choice but to put my advisor in my cell phone contacts list?
FLOGGING MOLLY on Saturday. Can you say woot?!?!?!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to a very special ADAM! My dearest husband, much love, though I have no idea what to get you.
NICHOLAS! Good luck on Saturday, you'll do great (as you always do) and then can finally get sleep again.
03 August 2005
Excuse me while I weep into my hoodie...
...so, most of you are aware of the fact that my mom wrecked my car while I was in California...if you're not, well, you suck...but anyways...it's currently at York Crysler getting fixed and it's going to take between 2 to 5 days to get it back...
I miss my car so much it HURTS MY COLD, DEAD SOUL!!!
No, it's not because I don't have a car...I currently have a rental car for the next few days...and it's not because I have a sucky rental car...it's actually pretty nice and brand new. Do you want to know why I'm dying here?! The rental car is TOO BLOODY EASY TO DRIVE...
So...my dad and I went to drop of the Jittney and pick up a rental car...we took the Viper and every time dad stepped away for a second I got assaulted by some random sales guy or mechanic saying "trade you *insert random crappy car here* for that Viper!!". Wow. I'm so proud of all of you, you're so original. Did you sit back in your little break room discussing the perfect tactic for coming over here? Fuckers. I wouldn't have been so agitated but not for the fact that I had to be at WORK in 30 minutes...
Eh, whatever. Eventually, we finally got the rental guy to talk about business and he was all like "well...the engine specs on this are similar to a BMW..." (granted, this was after attempting to convince me to rent a Dodge Durango...with a HEMI...thank you but no, I'd rather not deplete my bank account attempting to fill it with gas every 2 miles!) so I was all like "cool..this should be fun to drive..." How ridiculously wrong I was...
THIS CAR SUCKS. It's no fun at all, not even remotely a challenge. It's too smooth, turns too easily and doesn't need to be bullied into doing anything...the Beamer...at least that's a challenge since it has wicked acceleration and it's hard to keep it under control..but this...god...Now granted, my car is not the best thing in the world but at least it's fun to drive...I like having to bully it into turning, I love nailing the accelerator and brake when necessary, hell, I TRULY MISS hearing my tires squeel when I make a turn too fast and I want to go around a corner on 2 wheels LIKE WHOA.
On a plus side...ordering my laptop soon!!!!! I think I've decied on either Johann, Amadeus or Rasputin for a name..ideas? Questions? Comments? Concerns? (Only those who knew the horror of Mr. Sahd's class will understand this..."can you REDEEM yourself, Ms. MacVeigh? *grumble mutter* I practically taught that class for him....)
Yay!
I miss my car so much it HURTS MY COLD, DEAD SOUL!!!
No, it's not because I don't have a car...I currently have a rental car for the next few days...and it's not because I have a sucky rental car...it's actually pretty nice and brand new. Do you want to know why I'm dying here?! The rental car is TOO BLOODY EASY TO DRIVE...
So...my dad and I went to drop of the Jittney and pick up a rental car...we took the Viper and every time dad stepped away for a second I got assaulted by some random sales guy or mechanic saying "trade you *insert random crappy car here* for that Viper!!". Wow. I'm so proud of all of you, you're so original. Did you sit back in your little break room discussing the perfect tactic for coming over here? Fuckers. I wouldn't have been so agitated but not for the fact that I had to be at WORK in 30 minutes...
Eh, whatever. Eventually, we finally got the rental guy to talk about business and he was all like "well...the engine specs on this are similar to a BMW..." (granted, this was after attempting to convince me to rent a Dodge Durango...with a HEMI...thank you but no, I'd rather not deplete my bank account attempting to fill it with gas every 2 miles!) so I was all like "cool..this should be fun to drive..." How ridiculously wrong I was...
THIS CAR SUCKS. It's no fun at all, not even remotely a challenge. It's too smooth, turns too easily and doesn't need to be bullied into doing anything...the Beamer...at least that's a challenge since it has wicked acceleration and it's hard to keep it under control..but this...god...Now granted, my car is not the best thing in the world but at least it's fun to drive...I like having to bully it into turning, I love nailing the accelerator and brake when necessary, hell, I TRULY MISS hearing my tires squeel when I make a turn too fast and I want to go around a corner on 2 wheels LIKE WHOA.
On a plus side...ordering my laptop soon!!!!! I think I've decied on either Johann, Amadeus or Rasputin for a name..ideas? Questions? Comments? Concerns? (Only those who knew the horror of Mr. Sahd's class will understand this..."can you REDEEM yourself, Ms. MacVeigh? *grumble mutter* I practically taught that class for him....)
Yay!
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