What's going on with me?
I mean, it’s SOMEWHERE IN HER CAR, for God’s sake
I lost my phone yesterday, inexplicably, in a friend’s extremely messy car. I have emptied the car and looked everywhere for it, twice, and it’s still lost. I am spazzing out. All my numbers! Plus, no texting for the past two days. People might have been calling and texting and I have no idea who they are. And I don’t want to have to buy a new phone. I loved my phone.
Plus it is finals week. (Note the timestamp.) I left the house at 9am today and I just got home. And I am about to study. And I need to leave at 9am tomorrow too. At least after tomorrow this crazy schedule will be over, because I will either A) have survived my critique and final exam, or B) have died.
Wish me luck!
8.20.2005
I’m all hopped up on carbs right now
Did I tell you that every time I leave work, I get to take a styrofoam tray of buffet food with me? It’s one of my perks, don’tcha know. The food there is Southern and ridiculously fattening, so apparently everyone gains some weight when first hired, before they got sick of the food and started foregoing the free buffet tray. Good thing I only work 2-3 shifts per week, because I will NEVER get sick of the food and forgo the tray. One summer in high school I worked at Baskin Robbins, and everybody way like, “Oh you must be so sick of ice cream by now! Right?” And I’d be like, “Uhhhh…noooo. Actually, no. I still have a scoop during each shift.”
I gained like ten pounds that summer. My photos from Homecoming that fall were er, not too cute.
Tonight I had mashed potatoes, lima beans (which I get in an attempt to eat something healthy, but they are cooked to mush and floating in butter so I don’t think I’m accomplishing anything), macaroni and cheese, pork in gravy, and sweet potatoes. Also I ate one (okay! two!) cheesy garlic biscuits while working. Hopefully the bike ride home counteracted it all.
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I am on hold with Independence Air right now, and have been for like 15 minutes. Maybe nobody works there on Friday nights and the message is on a continuous loop and I will just wait forever. Do you think they will reimburse me for my used cell phone minutes if I wait on hold all night? How about if I actually die on hold? I thought calling late at night would be a good time to call. Apparently there IS no good time to call.
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Tonight at work a customer actually swatted me on the ass with his menu to get my attention. I MEAN. Was he raised in a barn?
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I’m still holding, Independence!
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Next week is the last week of classes. I have three paintings due on Tuesday and Wednesday and I’m pretty much spazzing out. I started a self-portrait yesterday and so far it looks extremely simian. Lets just say I made myself look like the missing link and leave it at that. Hopefully I can make it a little better by Tuesday or I will probably be laughed out of the program.
Note to professor: THANK YOU for having us start a painting on Thursday with a deadline of the following Tuesday! That was an excellent decision on your part, and it ensures that we will respect and admire your teaching style for the rest of our time here at school! Except, not so much. (I hate you!)
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That does it. I will DIE holding for Independence Air. Good night everyone!
8.16.2005
Note to self: Periods bring headaches and rain
Erg, I had the worst day yesterday. I got my period and it was causing me to paint like crap. I couldn’t mix the right color for anything and every piece of paint I put down looked all wrong. It was so frustrating. About halfway through class I just stopped painting and alternated staring at my own canvas with staring at everyone else’s. Sometimes to break up the monotony I’d just stare off into the distance and zone out. I figured, if each brushstroke I made just made things worse, I might as well quit while I was behind and just not paint that day.
Then after class I got on my bike and rode to the art history building for my next class, and on my way there I nearly got hit. BY A CHURCH BUS. When it parked and I passed the driver’s side window I gave the woman a truly evil face that I hope was adequate in conveying the depth of my hatred for her at that minute, but it probably wasn’t. Stupid church bus driving woman! I’m riding, here!
THEN in class, which is usually snooze-inducing enough seeing as how we are viewing a barrage of slides, in the dark, accompanied by an interesting but monotonous lecture by the professor, I developed a huge headache which I get every month, every time it’s like the second day of my period. However, as I’ve said in the past, for some reason I have total Menstrual Amnesia and forget that the same things happen each month, ie. depression, crying, headache, immense craving for all things cheese. In that order.
So I was DYING all through class. I was like, make it end please god. Oh the headaches I get. I think maybe they are technically migraines, because light makes it hurt worse and I feel all nauseous too. Fun!
About three years later, class ended. I walked to the door and it was pouring outside, with no sign of stopping. Annnnd, I have a bike. So I called a friend who gave me a ride home, which was super nice of him, and at my house I promptly took a bunch of Advils and we took a nap together. It was pretty cute. And I woke up feeling fine.
So the day got better at the end. He even drove me back to to the building later to pick up my bike. What a nice guy, huh?
8.12.2005
Triad of Grotesqueness
There is a guy in one of my classes, an older married guy, maybe early thirties. I find myself gazing at him sometimes, pondering the nature of men and clothes. See, he’s an attractive guy. I look at his face and I think, Cute guy. But then I look at his clothes and I just marvel at the fact that his wife “lets” him dress that way. My roommate Jane and I have agreed on a Triad of Heinous Male Fashion Crimes, namely:
1. Jean shorts. They are hideous. They belong in the 80s or on children who are playing outside on a hot summer day. Men, PLEASE, do not wear jean shorts. Especially (like the above guy), narrow-fitting, light wash jean shorts. I think his might even have a “Guess” logo on the back pocket. Barf.
2. White sneakers (bonus Horrible Points for white socks). It’s the Jerry Seinfeld look. It looks doofy. White sneakers are just…I don’t know. Lame. Get sneakers that are grey or black, or white with some colored accents. And wear them with pants. Sneakers with shorts make you look like a camp counselor trying to round the kids up for lunch at the mess hall.
3. Sleeveless shirts. Also known as tank tops, a name that makes me cringe even when used in reference to women’s shirts, but just seems extra-moronic when used to describe a man’s shirt. Dudes, sleeveless shirts are a tricky thing for you to pull off without looking cheesy and unappetizing. Jane believes that they’re okay when the sleeve part doesn’t narrow at all over the shoulder, like it just cuts straight down from the shoulder to the armpit, but I feel that even this is taking a little too much leeway with the amount of male armpit the average citizen wants to see. I am going to go out on a limb and just say No Sleeveless Shirts, PLEASE.
(However I am going to make an exception for the classic white ribbed wifebeater, IF the guy has good arms. This looks hot. And don’t get all scrappy with me for saying that only cut guys should be able to wear a certain article of clothing. Men haven’t cornered the market on that whole “being a visual creature” thing, so just save it.)
The guy in class violates rules one and two daily. I haven’t seen him wear a “tank top” (shudder) yet, thank god, but he DOES violate a final rule, one that applies to men and women equally – the cell phone clipped to a belt holder.
I mean, this is fine if you are a contractor or in some other carpentry, construction-type-gig where it is necessary for your career. Everyone else, just say no! That is all.
8.9.2005
Being from the north, I taste good
I saw the funniest bumper sticker today. It was a picture of a mosquito with wings decorated in the pattern of the confederate flag, and next to it in bold letters it read “SEND MORE YANKEES - They taste delicious!”
This is very appropriate for me. I think that biologically I was never meant to be living in the South, because I sunburn really easily and have tasty blood. Whenever I get a bug bite, it immediately expands into a huge white welt. This lasts for a few hours and then it goes down to a normal-sized red bump, at which time it becomes itchy and I Must Drop Everything And Scratch NOW! which of course makes it get all inflamed again, and the cycle of life begins anew.
Every morning before I leave the house, I coat myself in a thin layer of SPF 30, wait for it to dry, then add a layer of bug spray everywhere. I used to just spray my arms and legs after I had gotten dressed, but I would ride to school and then discover all these bites on my lower back, where my shirt had ridden up under my backpack. So I basically have to spray myself while completely naked to make sure I have total protection. They are wily little bastards, these southern mosquitos.
Then I get dressed, and everyday I wear the same outfit: cargo capri pants and a wifebeater, both from Old Navy. I have like five of each, in a variety of colors, and I just mix and match. I never thought I would be the kind of person who wore a single-store, complete mannequin-ready outfit (let alone every freakin day), but it’s just so comfortable and appropriate for my lifestyle that I have become a sad sad Old Navy fashion victim. Feel free to mock my lack of chicness now; I will understand.
8.7.2005
I know all there is to know about the crying game
I went out with two girlfriends Friday night. They are obsessed with this one bar in town, this chic gay cocktail bar that has lots of wines and sofas and low lighting. I think every time I’ve been out with them, and I’ve known them for like a month now, we go there. I mean, I love the place too, but I can’t go to the same bar all the time. I like variety. I like to ride to school a different way each day, you know?
So on Friday night I demanded that they show me some other places, it being their duty as I am new to town and all. We went to a super awesome little corner bar that had good bar food and a Dixieland jazz band that plays every weekend. They wore the little striped waistcoats and everything. It was so much fun. Then we went to a bar in the City Market area, and we were sitting on some stools, having our drinks and looking around, when there came a tap at the window next to us. When I turned my head, there were two (drunk) guys standing on the sidewalk just outside.
One of them grinned at us and then super-slowly, like time was suddenly slow-mo, pulled down his pants (and underwear if he was wearing them. Oh god) ALL THE WAY DOWN and showed us his Special Purpose.
!!!!!!
We all shrieked and turned away and stared at each other open-mouthed. I turned back to him and he was already (drunkenly) running down the street. His friend was just laughing and shaking his head, and making a half-hearted attempt to catch up with him.
Savannah = CRAZY
I don’t think my friends will agree to go to another bar ever again. Dammit.
8.5.2005
More work crap. I love having a job!
Remember when I mentioned that I am sweaty, for a girl? (Hell who am I kidding, I’m sweaty period.) Well if I thought it was bad before, it was nothing compared to the stickiness of running back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room for five straight hours at work. Damn you, dishwasher steam and hoe-cake grease! Give me a break already; my skin had just gotten consistently clear! I shake my fist at your grossness.
Shockingly, a middle-aged man flagged me down today while I was running around and pulled the old, “Where are you from, because I could SWEAR I’ve seen you before” bit. After giving him my life story and ruling out us ever having met, he told me I was “striking.” Some guys like a girl encased with a thin sheen of fry grease, I guess. There’s something for everyone.
I feel so much better now, having a job. It’s very weird, but even being in school full-time I felt lazy, because I wasn’t pulling in actual money. Not just because the tuition here is crazy high, or because I am on the largest amount of federal loan that a grad student can take out, because it is, and I am, but I enjoy having a job and a source of income, no matter how small. I think the whole American capitalism/work ethic thing definitely took effect in me at some point in childhood.
8.3.2005
Weird x 25
Right, so I’m back. I think I am going to go back to the way I used to write when I first started this whole blogging thing - doing short little posts every day or two, as opposed to having to come up with a big epic post like once a week. It feels too daunting to come up with lengthy coherant posts lately. Also, not to be all OH DAHLING, I AM SO BUSY AND POPULAR, but, you know, things are really busy lately. So prepare yourselves for actual timely updates from now on.
So, dudes! I got a job! I am a server assistant, known as “S.A.” to all us restaurant-biz-types. (Because you love random knowledge, I will go one step further and tell you that people actually say it normal speed, and not all drawn out like the abbreviation it really is, so it sounds more like ESSAY.)
I am working at this super-famous restaurant in the historic area (as famous as a restaurant in a small city in Georgia can be, anyway). If you have visited Savannah, you will know the one I’m talking about. They don’t take general reservations so people literally line up outside, like, down the sidewalk in the hot Georgia inferno known as The Sun, for hours, to partake of the foodstuffs. I applied here (and called and bugged the manager, and got a girl I met who works here to vouch for me) specifically because I figured that if they’re raking in that much money, I ought to get tipped out pretty well. So, we will see.
I just started yesterday and so far it is fine. I was prepared for lots of New Girl Hazing, and if you have worked in the service industry you will know what I’m talking about, but people were actually super-nice. Also, I get free buffet food at every shift. We have to sneak small plates of it and eat furtively, hiding in corridors and tiny rooms away from the actual paying customers, but still it’s awesome free food.
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Um, so have I told you that Savannah is WEIRD? Just this morning, on my bike ride to the studio, I passed an elderly man in a motorized wheelchair motoring on the street outside of the grocery store, like, in the actual lane. Hilariously, when he reached the four-way stop sign he stopped before proceeding on. Also, once Jane and I were sitting on our porch and saw an entirely different elderly-motorized-wheelchair person whizzing down the street even though there was a sidewalk about eight feet to her right, and she was going the wrong way down a one-way street! Holy crap!
One embarrasing thing that happened today (in any given day I have AT LEAST ONE) was that I was pedaling along and there was a dude on a bike riding alongside of me, but on the other side of the street (so, yes, heading towards traffic. People must have a deathe wish here or something). He yelled out Hey to me and I said Hey back. Then he said what I THOUGHT was, “I like your friends!” Which I interpreted to mean he liked my boobs, because A) he was a drunk loony-type-guy, and B) I was wearing one of my 20,000 Old Navy wifebeaters, and they fit pretty tightly. So I was horrified and said Oh back and tried to pedal away faster. But then he pointed at my bike and was like, “It’s a three-speed like mine, right?” and I realized he had said “I like your FRAME” or something bike-y like that. So I felt like an ass.
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Kat, I did actually use the cornbread casserole recipe you gave me that night and it was soooo(ooooooo) good. Thank you again. Everyone, try it. It’s got, like, cream and butter and sour cream, so you can’t go wrong.
I’ll be back sooner than I have been lately! Be good everyone. Or don’t.
~Home~