Who needs days off?

Not me, apparently. All I want to do is go to bed and stay there, but work keeps getting in the way.

Don't you hate that?

Copious amounts of sleep........oh, how I covet it. Days filled with doing nothing--or, barring the act of 'nothing', something fun that I want to do. I want to have a day where I can do fun things and not have them marred by work, grocery shopping, general cattiness, etc.

Being a grown up sucks.

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I have to work new years eve and day. Nothing says "Welcome, 2008!" like sweating in the wait station.

I suppose its fitting. How did you spend New Years? The same way I spent Last Year.

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Happy New Year, everyone. I hope its prosperous, joyous, and filled with appropriate blessings. No inappropriate blessings, however--Fuck that!

Stabby Stab

Well, Christmas is over and I am more pleased than anyone would guess.

Grinch, anyone?

As soon as New Years comes and goes, all I have to complain about is Valentines Day (A friend of mine is having her husband served with divorce papers on V-day. I find this to be more hilarious than I probably should. Before you judge--you don't know the husband.)

Anyway.

The only remotely interesting things that happened on Christmas itself were the fact that I ate two full dinners, made dessert for 20 with no eggs (shortbread!), and made T's mother openly sob when I honestly answered her question about my baptism.

I was never baptized. I'm ok with this. I don't plan on being baptized anytime soon, and this made T's very catholic mother sob openly. Mostly due to reasons she vocalized as my never knowing the "light and way of God's love", which I can respect.
Sigh.

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Christmas Eve was as painless as waiting tables on a holiday can be. Need I say more?

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My mother, who seems to not have ever met me before, sent me jewelry she proudly purchased at a pawn shop. It's not the pawn shop, nor the jewelry as a concept that is the problem, but her choice of jewelry itself. Lots of.....feathers.

This is the woman that when I was 18 purchased me Winnie the Pooh everything.

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I went to a large town south of here today to get my nails done and do some shopping, as everything is in sale. As soon as I crossed county lines, it began to snow. Not a big deal.

While I was getting my nails done, my floor captain calls. Wants to know if I can cover a shift for a girl who is stuck at her house due to the snow......in the town I am currently in. I inform her that I, too, am in this town......if the snow is that bad, should I really be the one chosen for the position?

Yes.

So I drove in the worst driving conditions I have seen in this state. It took me over an hour to finish a drive that normally takes 20 minutes.

I arrive. I call work to tell them that I will be there ASAP.

"Oh, don't come in. We took care of it."

Ah, risking life and limb for a "No Thank You" and a plunger.

Christmas Hangover (Thanks, Santa!)

My family Christmas was, I guess, a success.

There was no fighting, no under-handed comments, no passive aggressive activity.

Probably because we all got fucking plastered and the assholes in the family left early.

Most of you know, I'm sure, that I don't really drink all that much. A glass of wine here and there, two if something terrible is happening.

I had between seven and twelveteen last night. (Yes, twelveteen is a word.)

See, my aptly named Uncle Dick was buying. We had wine at the house, we had wine at the restaurant, we had wine, wine, wine. And we drank ALL OF IT.

I had not seen my cousins since my father's funeral. I had not seen a close friend of the family in over two years. We were talking, laughing, enjoying ourselves over a few glasses of wine at dinner. (and before.)

When we returned to chez cousin, and the assholes (and one good person) left, the drinking began again in earnest. Now we could discuss the inner workings of the family, be frank and honest with one another--and the wine just went down so easily!

We awoke this morning with roaring, tangible hangovers.

Merry Christmas--who didn't see this coming?

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In other news, I am so fucking fed up with the assholes in my family I have informed them that I am moving the fuck out.

I'm not sure where I'm going, but I have three out of state offers of places to go, and daily they look more tempting.

You can wait tables anywhere, I keep telling myself.

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I will probably not be able to post again until after Christmas proper, as my job apparently wants me dead and in the ground by February.

I hope you all have Merry Christmases and a Happy New Year.

(And will someone tell me where I should move?)

The Aftermath

So my company Christmas party was Tuesday.

Several firsts came of this evening, and I will do my best to describe them clearly.

The party was at a lodge some 20 or so miles from our workplace. I had never been there, and the description given to me by my coworkers was "Turn right on the goat trail before you get to the huge Casino". Indeed, it was up a goat trail of sorts--but very nice.

I went with members of the kitchen staff, as T had to work and would not be able to attend. It was sort of like going to prom, but only ten or more years later, and on the company dime.

Speaking of the company dime, we had to pay for drinks. (Not that big of a deal, but still, we were promised that we wouldn't have to.) This did not stop most of the Food and Beverage department from getting tanked, but more on that later.

We had a lovely meal, salmon, spiral ham (I loves me some ham.), Caesar salad. It was weird to eat while sitting at a table in front of my coworkers--I see these people every day, share meals with them regularly--but normally, we are standing over a trash can or the dish pit, taking huge bites and not chewing all the way so we can go wait on people/cook. But it was nice.

The portion of the party that everyone looks forward to are the door prizes. Gift certificates, meals at upscale restaurants, kitchen gadgets--all the way to full paid vacations to Disney Land. At least, those were the gifts in the years prior.

This year, well, they took a different approach.

The Executive Chef won a garbage bag full of toilet paper. The Banquet Coordinator, who is retiring in two weeks and has worked for this company 20 years won a broom. The Catering Coordinator won a whisk broom.

When my number was called to claim my prize, upon getting to my feet I threw my arms in the air like I stuck the landing at the Olympics. (People are still teasing me for receiving the biggest cheer/applause) What did I win, my friends?

A Plunger.

Merry Fucking Christmas.

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After the grand prize winning was over (PLUNGER?????) we went to the casino to gamble a little and watch management get wasted.

I went straight to the bar, knowing where everyone would be. I sat with the kitchen staff from both restaurants, including my Executive Chef. I had one drink. (Remember that. We all know what I lush I am anyway, but remember, one drink.) A good chunk of the people I am sitting with are totally obliterated, but there are two people (the two that rode with me) who don't drink at all. I had, say it with me now, One Drink.

We got cut off. (That's a first for me! Never been cut off before, and definitely not with my boss.)

They were going to cut off the two people that rode with me, and they were all about it until we were informed that if you are wearing the "No More For Me!" Sticker, you can't drive off the lot. I already had it on--if they had them too we would have been stuck getting a room at the casino. Luckily, one of the other servers was causing such a fuss that they kind of ignored the rest of us.

We left, but apparently everyone else was escorted out. Hilarity.

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I will not be joining my family for Christmas this year because I have to work. They rearranged schedules so that I can attend--as strangely kind as this is considering who we are talking about--Now I have to buy them all presents. Lord.

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I stole this from Brian, who is a stronger man than I with the not smoking.

Five Things
Five Things I Just Don’t Get:
1) Child or Animal Abuse
2) Our Health care System
3) Chick Flicks
4) Pinochle
5) Normal Christmas Gifts

Five Things, Other Than Money, I Wish I Had More Of:
1) Paid Vacation
2) Patience
3) Self Discipline
4) Answers
5) Time

Five Least Favorite Words or Phrases:
1) Oh, my freakin GOD! (In the Valley Girl voice)
2) This is unacceptable!
3) Panties
4) Nuh-Uh!
5) Can we have separate checks?

Five Famous People I’ve Spoken With In Person:
1) The Presidents of the USA (Can that count as more than one?)
2) KD Lang
3) The lead singer of Train whose name I didn't care to remember
4) David Sedaris
5) Sweet Mother Sound System

Five Things I Do Nearly Daily That I Don’t Enjoy:
1) Work
2) Get up before noon
3) Smile at people I want to scream at
4) Quietly stress about my life
5) Floss

Five Things I Have Actually Done That Sound Like Lies:
1) Danced on a bar, multiple times
2) Went repelling off a dam (anyone who knows me will say this is amazing)
3) Waited on KD Lang
4) Had Thanksgiving with the Presidents of the USA
5) Not been fired for insubordination, ever. (Knock wood.)


And, well, thats it.

The house of sisterly resentment

well, my family left yesterday.

Thank....god.

Don't get me wrong--I like my sisters alright....but over long periods of time, and when they start doing things I hate (that I have already addressed with them several times, I will get there in a minute), well, it's time to leave, thanks.

They arrived this week because we were meeting with the hospital about my father's death. Always pleasant--definitely something I was not looking forward to.

Anyway, the meeting was fine, and I managed to make all four panel members cry (The CEO, community advocate, risk management person and the head of the ER department) without intending to. The CEO asked us how we deal with our grief--and instead of saying nothing/telling the man to mind his own, they piped right up about how they are in counselling and so on. One sister made mention of the fact that I, the youngest by 24 years, was the one to see him fall and see him die, to sign the paperwork that gave consent for the DNR, and took care of him for two years prior to his death....

All heads turn to me. Wanting to know what I have done to de-grief myself. Up until this point, I had uttered probably three sentences the entire meeting.

"Me? I haven't done anything. I still live in his house, I sleep in his bed. I drive his cars. Every morning when I get out of bed my feet land on the bloodstain where his head was when we found him the night he died. I receive phone calls asking for him. I work a lot, to try to keep busy, but the majority of my customers are friends of his and all they want to do is talk about him. I am 25 years old and this is the second parental figure I have lost in a traumatic way. I am young, still a child by most people's standards, but I have seen grief and trauma that most people twice my age have not. So you ask me what I have done to try and deal with the pain....And I have done nothing. It will either heal over time or it won't, but no matter what happens, I have to keep moving forward, so that's what I'm doing."

All four people are crying. I am confused. As we are leaving the meeting, the CEO hugs me (?) and says--"You cannot blame yourself. You did everything right, and we were the ones that messed up. None of this is your fault."

What do you say to that? 'I know!', 'Thanks!'. Jesus.

My sisters are just tickled that I performed the way I was "supposed to". I just told the truth.

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Anyway, my one sister is a control freak. Her favorite thing to do is to wait until I am out of the house and then re-organize everything to her standards, so that I cannot find anything for months after her departure. She has done this time and time again, and I have asked her not to time and time again.

She did it again this week while I was at work, and I am ready to kill her. I can't find my kitchen! I mean, the room is there, but all my shit--mail, knick knacky stuff, my files, pay stubs, recipes etc., are missing. Its not like this stuff was jumbled in piles on the counter--I had organized it all into folders before their arrival.

Oh, and a bunch of dad's shit is missing now, too.

I am not happy.

Open Letters

An open letter to my mother:

Dear Mom,

Please don't call me at 6am. I know that we have been over this before, that you are awake that early and know that I am home. However, home and 'up and ready to talk' are two different things. When I do not answer the phone at 6am, due to the fact that I am unconscious, please refrain from screaming my name into the answering machine until it times out and then do it all over again until I answer. Nothing you have to say can possibly be that important--that is the phone call hysteria you give when there is an emergency. There is never an emergency, and when there is, you lie to me about it. Stop crying answering machine wolf.

Also, and I know this is a difficult point for you to understand, I have a job. That means that I spend hours away from home for money--and if I stop doing that, I will stop having money. I know that you don't understand because you haven't worked a day in over thirty years, but please, bear with me.

Thanks, Mom. Love you.

An open letter to my coworkers:

Dear Coworkers,

Please stop acting like you are bipolar. This edge-of-your-seat work environment is not a good time. Happy today? Sad? Angry? Aggressive? WHO KNOWS! Spin the magic wheel and find out.....

Thanks, and Merry Christmas.

An open letter to my family,

Dear Family,

I'm not coming for Christmas this year. I have to work Christmas Eve and the day after Christmas--I am not driving through horrible traffic to eat dinner with you people and then drive through horrible traffic back again. (2 hours each way w/o horrible traffic) I'm sure you won't miss me a bit--someone else's ass can be in all the pictures this year.

Thanks, and I doubt if I will ever see most of you again.

An open letter to the man that sold me my car:

Dear man that sold me my car,

You are weird.

Please take down the photo on your flikr account of T and I you took when I bought the car. That's just weird.

Plus, I look like I have a really, really big nose, and I don't. I'm wondering how this happened.

But it's still really weird.

Thanks--Did I mention you are really weird?

Let's not, but say we....didn't?

I nearly sobbed, openly, at work today.

Apparently, due to the fuckup of my old boss, I am not eligible for health insurance for another 6 months.

In what world is it normal to have to wait 18 months, minimum, for insurance? Not this one.

I can't be mad with the current management. I can, however, be irate with the previous.

I can also be irate with one of my coworkers, who, as far as I'm concerned, can go straight to fucking hell. That statement is not enough for the rage I am feeling at the moment.