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.