Ode to Ellipses

I bet you thought...hey...there's a typo in her heading. But...no. There isn't. Ellipses is not spelled with an 'I'. You, my friend...are wrong.

Ellipses are/is my favorite of the punctuation(s). Egads. Get me out of this sentence.

I love the ellipses so much. I write it all the time. You may have noticed from previous posts. It makes me happy. It puts me in a punctuary comma...I mean...coma.

I have a great love affair with the ellipses. Sadly, so does my statistics professor. Only...she has no clue how to use them. She speaks in ellipses...incorrectly. Example: "You find the commonality and then the...answer."

I'm sorry...what? You don't need ellipses there! It's...not right! Are you really waiting for us to fill in the...blank? See? Doesn't work.

Another example: "We will have the quiz on Wednesday now and the test on...Monday."

Stop doing that!!!! You're driving me crazy!!!

What He Said

I held today...in my tiny little hands...a black American Express card.

Man...ventriloquists make bank. Or at least...spend it.

This Week Sucks Blah Blah Blah Whatever

• College girls loooove their cleavage. They also have the most rockin'/perfectly worn/hole-ridden jeans. I am trying to figure out how to ask one of them where she got her jeans without sounding like a total skeeve.
• Everything I like is discontinued. Target brand extra tall kitchen garbage bags. Archer Farms coffee pods. Apricot Sands lipstick from L'Oreal. (Of course that was 20 years ago.) The Aussie shampoo I used to use. The Maybelline eyeshadow. Blueprint magazine. Organic Living magazine. The genmachia tea I loved so much. Freaking Baskin Robbins Daqueri Ice.
  
• Or the package is changed and even though they assure you it's new and improved or that it has the same great taste...it never does.
• Stupid wind storm abducted my sunglasses. Thieving bitch at work stole the other pair. Final pair lost a screw today and fell off my face.
  
• Speaking of face...mine is under the impression I'm in the throes of puberty.
  
• Made a veggie chicken patty today for breakfast. Topped it with a veggie slice of American cheese, mayo, and mustard. Enveloped it inside a whole wheat bun. And then left it sitting on the coffee table and didn't think of it until I was pulling into the parking lot at school.
• I cannot find a sufficiently roomy bag to carry every damn thing I need to carry to school without it weighing seven hundred and eleven pounds.
• Haven't had time to go back and renew my license.
  
• Have to go to work tomorrow and be nice to the person who stole from me.
  
• Having a love affair with Kasil jeans.
  
• Wondering what in the hell I was thinking going back to school. I can't be 100% mommy, 100% student, 100% friend, 100% daughter and 100% employee.
  

It's the Hard Knock Life

I am going to kill a girl in my biology class. We're having our first test on Thursday. Today, in the first 20 minutes of class she asked, "Can you please give us a study guide?" "Can you please tell us what to study?" "I have so many notes, more than 45 questions worth." "Can you just give us an example of a question you will ask?" "I am so confused. I don't know what to study." "There is just so much information." "Can you just give us an outline with all the stuff that will be covered on the test?" "Do we need to know this? Is this important."

YES EVERY SYLLABLE THE PROFESSOR UTTERS IS FUCKING IMPORTANT FRESHMAN HOW ABOUT STUDYING YOUR DAMNED NOTES NOW SHUT. UP.

Wasting Away

WHERE IN THE EFF ARE THE EXTRA TALL KITCHEN GARBAGE BAGS SOLD????

I Was Sitting at Starbucks with the J Crew....

Permission to Abort Mission, Sir?

There is a hair convention in town. You know, a hair show? A show for hair dressers. I mean...stylists. They call themselves that so they can charge $70 for a haircut instead of $10. That's also why they call them 'clients' now and not 'customers.' Well, my work has been out-of-control. Saturday night I worked and I was so out of it. But the sections that the servers get are so ridiculous. There is no rhyme or reason. Three tables outside, four table inside but no where near each other. So you are running around like a complete fool trying not to fall down or lose your mind. I didn't work yesterday lunch, luckily. They were so busy the kitchen couldn't keep up and people were waiting two hours for their food. Last night was worse than Saturday night, except this time I wasn't a maniac and was actually picking up tables for other people who couldn't handle their section. It really just depends with me. You never really know what you're going to get.

Well something kept telling me to get my phone. I had a weird feeling like I needed to have it on me. Like maybe my friend who was watching the baby would need to get a hold of me. I wish I would've listened to that little inner voice. Then I would have a time line. Someone stole my purse at work last night. It is a black leather Coach zip pouch that I put my whole life in and move from bag to bag whenever I change purses. Gone. It had to have been someone I work with because no customers would know purses were there and we would definitely notice some random person going through the cabinet nosing around. Thank the gods I cleaned it out the other night. I can't remember what all was in it. Makeup. Receipts. My sunglasses. Whoever it was left me my phone and my keys. They even took the tee shirt I wore to work.

I filed a police report when I got home. He was all official and shit. Came up the porch with his finger on his holster. Skeered me. He wrote down all the answers to his very important questions. "What kind of bag, miss?" Coach. *wimper* "What kind of makeup, miss?" *whisper* cover girl *yell* AND Burt's Bees! I am pretty sure I saw him scribble something like Bird's B's and 'she's crazy insane' and 'run background check/have surveillanced.'

I just went to get a new license and took two pieces of mail with my name on it. "I need something with your social security number on it." WTF!! Argh! This is why people don't use social security numbers as identification anymore. What if I had been crazy enough to keep it in my purse? Whoever stole my bag could just go with it and get a license made in my name. 

Oh well. I'll have to go back later this week. Which is probably a good thing. My hair is dirty and I have on a skull tee shirt.

I'm Your Huckleberry

There are two guys, one in Biology and the other in Geography, who bug the living bejeesus out of me. The dude in Biology (Cody is his name. Actually his name is something else, but he goes by Cody. That's another story.) I think might be drunk when he comes to class. At first, his questions were very helpful. Now, he is bothering everyone. Some people laugh, some people like me huff and puff hoping he'll shuttup or pass out. The teacher mentioned diarrhea was a disease and then he proceeded to ask 40 questions about it, including "The next time I have diarrhea, I can tell everyone I have a disease?" The teacher said, "If you want to." How about diarrhea of the mouth?

The other dude is THE MOST ANNOYING BOY EVER IN THE HISTORY OF ANNOYING BOYS. He would, in fact, annoy the most annoying person you've ever met. The Pope would surely have him locked away in a dungeon never to be seen again. He cannot remain quiet. "My friend's truck was stolen in Mexico. It WAS! I'm not joking." "They called me a gringo, so I left." "Weren't we always focused on Columbia?" "It's plain capitalism." "Farmers. Oh, I meant cowboys." "The Panama Canal." "If McCain wins, my brother and I are going to move to Canada." The last comment very nearly swayed my vote.

Well, yesterday during an experiment in biology lab, the first kid nearly spilled a whole jar of tuna fish water on me. And the second dude...called me m'am.

I'm going to have to hurt them.

I'm Not Ready

I came home from school today and someone took three steps unassisted. And just a few moments ago, that someone woke up as soon as her head hit the mattress, per normal. After a futile attempt to put her to sleep by playing with her hair (she'll learn how wonderful this is in a few years, I'm guessing) I finally just left the room so I could take out my contacts, wash my face, um...pee (which I rarely ever get to do alone and I'm sure that only gets worse, not better), and put on my pajamas. This was all accomplished while someone wailed at the top of her lungs. I was speeding through my nightly routine hoping to get back to her in record time. Then, just as the last leg went into the pajama bottoms...the crying stopped. For the first time in her life, she cried herself to sleep while in my presence. Sure, she's cried in the car and then gone to sleep. She pretty much hates the car. Thank goodness for iTunes audiobooks for children. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is a guaranteed winner; as soon as Walter Matthau's voice comes out of the speakers the screaming comes to an abrupt halt.

Sure, some people say babies need to cry themselves to sleep. I cannot do it; make her cry on purpose, that is. Especially after I read this:

He awakes in a mindless terror of the silence, the motionlessness. He screams. He is afire from head to foot with want, with desire, with intolerable impatience. He gasps for breath and screams until his head is filled and throbbing with the sound. He screams until his chest aches, until his throat is sore. He can bear the pain no more and his sobs weaken and subside. He listens. He opens and closes his fists. He rolls his head from side to side. Nothing helps. It is unbearable. He begins to cry again, but it is too much for his strained throat; he soon stops. He waves his hands and kicks his feet. He stops, able to suffer, unable to think, unable to hope. He listens. Then he falls asleep again.

I now feel so guilty I want to wake her up and take her to bed with me. But I won't. I'll just hug and kiss her extra in the morning.

What Happened Was Just This

Crikey! Huge wind storm yesterday while I was walking to work. It blew my sunglasses off my face (Oscar de la Renta $7 TJMaxx...bye bye) CRASH! shattering them in the street, blowing them a block away at 60 mph, and it ripped the rubber band out of my ponytail. I was pinned to a giant planter. I couldn't move. Some guy walked past me and just stared at me. Uh...hello? Thanks for helping me. I just wanted to cross the street! I didn't weigh enough.

My work was the only restaurant open in the area. Power lines down everywhere. We were slammed. There had been a Bengals' game. Boy, do they ever suck. People were drunk coming in to eat and find refuge. I love how people are not nice when clearly you're doing the best you can to accommodate all the other people ahead of them. I was so busy, and we only had one bartender. I went behind the bar to finish pouring a Guinness while dreaming of shoving my head under the tap for a swig. A man at the bar barked some order to me. I turned and said, "I'm sorry?" He asked for some silverware. I couldn't find any behind the bar. So I ran and got him a place setting. He said, "May I just say you are the first person in this place who has done anything for me with a smile?" I said, "Oh...well that's because I've lost my mind." He reached out to shake my hand and introduced himself. He said, "Your first child's college tuition is on me." I said, "That works out great! She's 13 months old today!" I doubt he'll really come back with a check.

Another table of guys came in late and gave me all kinds of hell. It was obvious they didn't know each other from the conversations they were having. One guy was talking about Penelope Cruz and all the famous people he has met and didn't sleep with. One guy paid and as I was closing out his tab the math wasn't coming out correctly. I went over to the table and said, "So, why are you guys in town?" I had asked to see his I.D. because he hadn't signed his credit card. He was from Nebraska. "Why?" he asked. Uh...yes. "Pet food convention." So I said, "Not a math conference?" He said, "Um, no." Then he gave me a funny look and said, "Why? What'd I do?" I said, "Well, according to your math my tip should be $26, not $18." I asked, "Do you want to give me an $18 tip or do you want me to do the total?" He said, "Well...I uh...guess the tip that I wrote down." I said, "That's fine. But for future reference, people will enter the total because that's what you'll remember. If you added incorrectly shorting the tip, then the server will still only get the total even if it's short." He said okay. I said, "So, we're going with the $18 tip then?" He said, "Yeah. I guess." I said, "It's okay. We're not dating. I'm not going to be pissed at you or anything."

Trees crushed cars. Power out for miles, possibly not back on for days in some places. I just called the grocery to see if they were open before I drove there. The manager answered and said they are without cold or frozen food and are only allowing people to buy 2 bags of ice at a time. Wow. I'll take boxed processed food for $1000, Alex.

Of course I have power at my place. I live by my work. There is a jail, a transit center and two huge hotels. Can't imagine we're not on some generator or something. The power lines are down in the street right across from me blocking off the road.

I'm trying to watch the school closings list on the television, but inevitably look away before the Ns show up. Every. Time. Dammit.

Week in Review

• I work with a 37-year-old grandmother. Crazy, huh? Well, I also work with a 35-year-old grandmother.

• This is not Dom DeLuise.
  

• The hours between 8.30 p.m. and 11.30 p.m. are really twenty minutes in disguise.

• My Thai crystal deodorant is determined to make me smell like a Thai restaurant. So I've switched to Liquid Rock from Kiss My Face. Today was test day. I like it.

• How is it that my hair goes from clean, to perfectly dirty to crap grease slick in a matter of seconds?
  

• Have a paper due on Tuesday. Have to pretend like I care about stem cell research. Maybe I will care about it by Monday night. Will definitely know whether I care about it by Tuesday at noon.
  

• Have fingernails for the first time since I was pregnant. I forgot how to use them. I iz dangerous.

• Working tomorrow. Pray I make lots of monies. Going out tomorrow night. Not coming home 'til I kiss a boy. Or 11.30 p.m. Whichever comes first.
  

Those Damn Little Lenten Bitches

My friend's daughter has just joined the Daisies. I have no clue what this is, really. From what I gathered during the conversation with my friend, it's much like (or not much like) the Brownies. You know the Brownies. The prequel if you will to the Girl Scouts. Friend wasn't too keen on her daughter joining the Daisies but "all the other first graders were doing it" and you know how that ends up when you're the only person not involved in something. Like when all of your friends go on vacation without you and then proceed to talk about nothing else when in your presence. Friend said, "It's fine now, just hoping she is over it before it's time to join the Girl Scouts. Because we all know Girl Scouts are only good for one thing. Thin Mints." Isn't that the damned truth. I remember being in the Girl Scouts. It sucked. Now I'm wondering...is one in the Girl Scouts or just in Girl Scouts? Kind of like how one used to shop at The Gap but now we're only allowed to shop at Gap. Kind of like that. Kind of.

Rollin' with the Homies

What's My Muthaeffin' Name?

Baby Fish Mouth. One of my favorite scenes from a movie ever.

Hmm.... I am thinking I may have to change my heading. I know. I know. I already changed it from absurditiesofsomepeople to whowhatwhenwhereandsometimeswhy. I've already thoroughly explained that I cannot make a decision to save my life. You're just going to have to deal with it.

When I picked Baby Fish Mouth, I didn't realize tons of other people were using it as well. It's a clothing company for babies and tons of people have blogged about that damn scene. But it's so me! I swear my brain works just like Jess's. And Win Lose or Draw is my favorite game ever. For those of you who have yet to meet "Board Game Jennifer" just know...she's not pretty. I found a way to play board games by myself growing up. I'd play both players. Only child, you know. I have issues. Lots of them.

I'm sure my inability to make a decision is somehow my mom's fault. Or Oprah's. I'll have to get a therapist. Or not.

So, what could my new heading be? What is the most accurate way to describe me?

• When I was pregnant and willing to go on dates--just one date ONE! would have sufficed--I thought about making a tee shirt that read If you ask I'll say 'yes' on the front and ...obviously on the back. My mother was appalled.

• Then there is my stock motto: I'm an only child. I don't share. It's not technically true, but I am a bit freaky with my stuff. Sure, you can look at the magazine I just got and haven't looked through yet, just don't wrinkle the corners or curl the cover.

So, I'm a mom/only child/daughter/massage therapist/writer/server/full-time student who is completely single for the first time in many many years. Maybe my heading should be Lease with an Option to Buy. Or to complement the journalistic site name...And how's that make you feel? With my hands, yo. With my hands.

It's Not Me. It's You.

This place is a mess.
*evil eye*
Well, it is.
Do something about it.
Who me?
Yeah you.
It's not my fault. I'm never here.
So, you could still help out once in a while.
Look at the dust!
There you go. You can dust.
So, what? I have to do everything you hate doing?
What's the big deal? I vacuum.
That's because you like to vacuum.
And...?
Just because you don't like to do something doesn't mean I have to like doing it.
Well then, what do you like doing?
I'll straighten up the book shelves and papers.
Oh brother. *rolls eyes*
Now what?
Nothing.
What? Just say it.
You won't get anything done. Ten minutes into straightening you'll be going through drawers.
So?
So, you'll sit there for an hour looking at pictures and old cards and old planners.
I beg your pardon.
You don't ever clean when you clean. You just make piles and more messes for me.
You need a nap.
Yes, I do. I haven't slept the whole night through in two years.
So take one.
How can I? What do I do with the baby? Stick her in her crib and let her cry for forty minutes?
Yes.
You have no idea what you're even talking about.
Whatever.
Don't say that. You know I hate it when you say that.
You shouldn't say 'hate'.
Shuttup.
Or shuttup.
Ten minutes of silence passes.
Are you not talking to me now?
I don't know what you want me to say. I can only do so much, you know.
All I'm asking you to do is dust.
Well, all I'm asking you to do is get off my back.
*jaw drops*
Yeah. Off. My. Back. I go to school full-time and work. I don't have a single day to myself.
You don't have to work so much.
Ha! Yeah, right. Who else is going to buy diapers and food and gas for my car?
Me.
Who will pay my bills?
Me.
You don't make enough.
Sure I do.
Well, we need my money. Besides, I got a hug and a 100 percent tip from my table last night.
Well, you're going to need that to pay for the coffee you have every morning.
I make my coffee here, thank you very much.
Yeah. With two pods and soy creamer.
No. I'm using half and half now. And you have to use two pods. One pod is pointless. That's not coffee. It's brown water.
I thought you were lactose intolerant?
I AM! I AM SICK OF SOY. I WANT SOMETHING THAT TASTES GOOD.
Dairy gives your daughter a rash.
Look. I'm trying to introduce it to her slowly. I don't need you to make me feel like shit about it.
I'm not trying to make you feel badly.
Bad.
What?
You're not trying to make me feel bad.
Are you correcting me?
*silence*
Look, I think you need a break. A night with the girls or something.
And who will watch the baby?
I'll find someone.
Yeah, right.
I will.
Look, I'm away from her all day, the last thing I want is to be away from her all night too.
You need to get out of the house. Relax. You're never going to meet anyone sitting at home.
I don't have time to meet someone. I don't have time for a relationship.
You don't need a relationship. Just have...fun.
Fun?
Yes. Fun. You remember fun. I mean, you bought those heels. Where are you planning on wearing them? I know it's not to take out the garbage. You don't take out the garbage.
Yes, I do.
No you don't. You put it on the balcony and I end up taking it out after it's been rained on.
*shakes head* I'll wear the shoes somewhere. *trails off* One day.
Go out with that guy from work.
Guy from work?
Yeah. That guy at your work. The one who said he'd have sex with you.
What? Jesus. I never should have told you that.
You didn't. I was there, remember. Besides, he's cute.
He has a girlfriend. And I don't need pity sex, thank you very much.
You're getting bitter.
What?! I am not!
Yes, yes you are. Find a cute boy and make out with him. I am giving you permission.
Permission? You're not the boss of me.
Oh, yes I am.

And I Live Here Again Because....

Did some stuff at work this week that got me into a bit of hot water. I...excelled. I don't know what got into me. Then I totally effed up. Got reprimanded for slicing too large a hunk of bread for my customer's salad. And then someone unplugged the salad dressing cooler to use the blender and didn't plug it back in and I got blamed for never having plugged it in to begin with, which I know I totally did. See? This is why I always like to give a steady 76 % with anything I do. Once you start giving 100% people tend to expect it.

Went to Oktoberfest with a friend tonight for about 45 minutes. Oh mah gawd. What a nightmare. There are two places around here where you can see the real gems of the gene pool. Maifest and Oktoberfest. People walking around with a beer in one hand and a baby on the other hip. A nice cute little baby who is sweet enough to hold mommy or daddy's cigarette while they stuff their faces with a cob of corn and some barbeque.

About 17 years ago, I was at the Oktoberfest with some friends. I saw a booth full of tiny clothes. So cute. Dresses. Hundreds of them in every fabric you could imagine. I had a friend who was about to have a baby so I decided to actually look through the racks. I finally came across a cap and gown. I thought to myself, "What the hell would a baby need with a cap and gown?" Jaysus. They weren't children's clothes. They were clothes for geese! Porch geese! What in God's name!! I am so glad I didn't actually buy something.

That brings me to another point. I walked down one aisle of booths and was in shock. How can someone take a step back, look at the products they're trying to sell and actually think, "Yeah. These redneck windchimes will make me a millionaire"? I don't even have to go near the booth where you can make your own potpourri and lavender eye packs to know that it sucks.

Try to Remember the Kind of September

Okay. Decision needs to be made. Do I look for another job? I went back into the kitchen to get drinks for my table and a giant roach FLEW right at me. My table was right outside the kitchen. I cannot imagine them not noticing. The screams from the other waitresses alone would've certainly gave them alarm. It's wingspan was the size of my hand with my fingers splayed out. Gross.

One of the cooks asked me what I wanted to eat during the lull while the fireworks were going on and the restaurant emptied out. I said, "Nothing." He said, "Come on. Just name it. I'll make it." I said, "I don't want any food from here." I don't think I can continue to serve people knowing that a roach may fly out of the kitchen and land on their plate.

I did make decent money Sunday night, but the crowd was exceptional. Without the fireworks we would have all been standing around staring at each other. I didn't get out of there until almost 1 a.m. One of the other servers was pissed that a few of us got to leave. I didn't even say anything. They cut me so I left. But honestly, I cannot stay that late and be a good mommy. Baby wakes up before 7 a.m. Potentially I could've been there until 3 a.m. A couple of people were there super late the night before waiting on a bachelorette party. I didn't catch up on my sleep until last night.

I might have to see if my friends are hiring at their restaurant. I've worked there before and they have no bugs. Of course, it's such a lovely place I probably wouldn't notice if they did. Just like my mom said to me once when I was complaining about pet hair every where from someone's dog. I said, "I don't remember Ozzie shedding like this when I was growing up. Unless you just cleaned every single day." She said, "Well, you loved Ozzie." That was the difference. And she did clean practically everyday.