Friday, September 27, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
In a fit of being far too awesome for words it seems that I have caught a cold. I am snuffly, my throat hurts, there is a pressure in my head and it blows.
I am posting this from my phone so I can show a pic of my mug. The mug that I am drinking my sexy old lady mix of hot water and lemon.
If I am feeling frisky, I might add honey.
Monday, September 16, 2013
I met her at Chic and we became Facebook friends and she wrote a very nice e mail after I didn't get hired.
It was her bachelorette party.
I had a severe case of Le Tireds on Saturday night and didn't want to go to begin with. The BF (who might get a name soon, we shall see) and I hung out for a bit because he was going to drop me off and then pick me up because downtown Royal Oak is what one would call a "Cluster Fuck".
After he woke me up from a nap and I pouted about getting dressed and going to bar with people I didn't really know...we went. Or I went and he dropped me off.
This, my friends, is where the story comes off the rails.
I got a text saying that the other girls were running late, so I stood outside like a bit of a loser. My loserdom must have been wafting off of me because a somewhat drunk girl (named Judith) started chatting with me about the "bullshit" that came with smoking her cigarette outside and having to have her hand stamped so she could get back inside without paying another $5.
(and another thing-what is that? Cover charges? Just mark your drink up an extra dollar or something. Charge more for a sandwich. No one will ever know and then I won't feel ridiculous paying a cover charge.)
Judith was with a different bachelorette party and offered to let me hang out with them while I waited for my friends. I sort of smiled the placating smile you give to the drunk and she went on her way. However, after another five or so minutes, I got bored and kinda chilly and so I went inside to find Judith.
Judith was nice and all "Happy to see you!" and I stood in a corner with a drink, looking for my friends. I ended up standing in that corner of the table for the next hour and a half. I got a little bit tipsy and the girl I was standing next to, Christine (as Judith was off sexy dancing with some seriously older gentlemen), was nice about the fact that I couldn't find my friends.
I was doing fine until one of the bride's friends (even the bride was cool with me standing there, waiting for friends) was like "YOU DIDN'T PUT THOSE ON OUR TABS, DID YOU?", referring to my booze. I was so taken aback that I shook my head and muttered that I didn't not, while immediately tearing up because Judith had come back and was all "I'm sorry you never found your friends."
I think the combination of booze and Le Tireds and overwhelming loud bar/club and new people took their toll at that point because I totes texted the BF to come get me ASAP. I
It was a really long weekend.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
This new stash of B12 also means that, being a 27-year-old female, I'm overly excited about my pooping habits again.
This is not entirely normal for most 27-year-olds. Much less the lady folk.
In other news, I think my hand is getting worse.
I say this as I shake a bit more, but I don't have a resting tremor (thank God) and I don't have nearly the intention tremor that I used to. That being said-I think things are getting worse.
I recently turned down employment at Bagger Dave's (great turkey burgers) because of this. I feel like it's one thing to spill food (hot or cold) all down your front when you're at home and can cuss the sky blue about it, but it's something completely different to do that on a paying customer.
It also is something different to drop a t-shirt or a watch (like when I was at Fossil). People get less cranky about that sort of thing than they do a ruined burger or soda or coffee.
My hand is killing me today.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
(Insert Monty Python joke here)
I still haven't heard from the Olive Oil shop, but I plan on calling tomorrow. I'm also going to head to all of my malls to see if I can find something part-time there while I figure out the rest of my life. I'm obviously applying like a mofo to full time gigs, but some of us have to pay our bills in the mean time.
Now here is where I turn all optimistic and shit.
A while ago I called the not Ms. Mae loan company to be all "I'm unemployed and basically, there's no way on God's green Earth that I can pay you your $500 a month. What are we to do about this?"
(It's entirely possible that this was the intent of the conversation, but the tone came off more desperate and more snippy.)
The dude I spoke to on the phone sounded like a moron. I mean, his phone behaviour left quite a bit to be desired, so when he was on the phone with me, I was super sceptical that he would be able to help me.
But he did.
Turns out the dude knew exactly what he was talking about and now my loans are in a good good place (AKA $0 a month) because I'm unemployed. I cannot thank that dude enough.
I also have been selling some unwanted books on Amazon. It's not a ton of money, but frankly, it's something. I find it encouraging?
Maybe things are looking up? I don't want to get my hopes too high because when they get dashed, I'll be crushed? But a vague sense of optimism isn't the worst thing, right?