*2:56 AM August 28, 2010
... I am so terribly sorry for asking you to perform your job. I am so sorry for asking you to take me to Queens. I can't help myself but to live there. My mother owns the apartment so I don't have to pay rent. So I unfortunately have to splurge on food and transportation and TAXI DRIVER TIPS.
I decided to waste my life at school. You decided to waste your life behind a wheel. At least you get paid for being miserable!
I don't want to hear your complaining about driving to Queens. Because when I give you a tip that is over 50%, it's worth it.
I'm going to sleep now so that I can work my crappy waitress job in the morning and hopefully have time to study so I can do well being a full time student this semester.
I'm totes okay with going out and having fun once every three months.
Love, Me
Greetings From My Messy Bedroom
*10:21 AM August 24, 2010
My room is the size of a dumpster, so it's very easy to keep it clean. That is until I do laundry and don't want to fold my clothes and put them away. That's probably the worst chore a parent can ask of us. Perks of living alone...
World, I'm assuming you have noticed that my blog hasn't been following its normal Sunday night/ Monday morning schedule. With this new job and with school starting in two days (*sob*) you're just going to have to get used to it. I know it'll be hard for you to understand because your college experience consists of not working, not studying, binge drinking, and blog reading.
I hope everyone was able to keep all the knowledge from the previous school year in their brains. And hey, I hope you all learned new things this summer too. I sure did. I learned that some things should be left to professionals like plumbing, or box car racing, or bikini waxing... I don't want to talk about it...
I also learned that men are pigs! Well we all knew this before. But I thought this stuff only happened in bad sitcoms: Two days ago, two annoying tables were making me stay late at work. One table had an anorexic hippie who only ordered 27 mint teas. The other was clearly a date that the woman ASSUMED was going well since they were there for FOREVER. However, while she was in the restroom, I brought over his coffee... and he started to flirt with me! Asking me my name and whole life story only setting me free from the boring conversation when she finally came back. When I was finally fed up with waiting for them, I dropped the check with a sub text of "get the hell out!" THEN, being the "gentleman" he is, he slipped his credit card in the check book... and his phone number!
I gave it to my buddies in the kitchen and said "Have fun."
Love, Me
My room is the size of a dumpster, so it's very easy to keep it clean. That is until I do laundry and don't want to fold my clothes and put them away. That's probably the worst chore a parent can ask of us. Perks of living alone...
World, I'm assuming you have noticed that my blog hasn't been following its normal Sunday night/ Monday morning schedule. With this new job and with school starting in two days (*sob*) you're just going to have to get used to it. I know it'll be hard for you to understand because your college experience consists of not working, not studying, binge drinking, and blog reading.
I hope everyone was able to keep all the knowledge from the previous school year in their brains. And hey, I hope you all learned new things this summer too. I sure did. I learned that some things should be left to professionals like plumbing, or box car racing, or bikini waxing... I don't want to talk about it...
I also learned that men are pigs! Well we all knew this before. But I thought this stuff only happened in bad sitcoms: Two days ago, two annoying tables were making me stay late at work. One table had an anorexic hippie who only ordered 27 mint teas. The other was clearly a date that the woman ASSUMED was going well since they were there for FOREVER. However, while she was in the restroom, I brought over his coffee... and he started to flirt with me! Asking me my name and whole life story only setting me free from the boring conversation when she finally came back. When I was finally fed up with waiting for them, I dropped the check with a sub text of "get the hell out!" THEN, being the "gentleman" he is, he slipped his credit card in the check book... and his phone number!
I gave it to my buddies in the kitchen and said "Have fun."
Love, Me
Oh, Hi There.
*10:25 AM August 18, 2010
Tee Hee... Hi.
I know, I know! I "suck," I've "let you down." Thank goodness my head is too big to care. Anyways...
So I am no longer a barista. No, world, I didn't get fired. I'm too awesome for that. My boss decided to make me a waitress instead. So I said to my boss, "Boss, are you sure? I have no waiting experience." But that clearly didn't matter because they only trained me one out of the four days they were supposed to and felt I was ready to be thrown on the floor. Don't pretend you're shocked, world. You know I'm good.
But let me tell you, I haven't worked this hard at a job ever. Maybe at the bowling alley doing birthday parties, but that was only on weekends. I work five days a week now. And life guarding the elderly in a pool that only goes to five feet was a joke. The kitchen is downstairs, so I'm constantly running up and down them. I come home to collapse in bed and can feel my feet pulse in pain. Then there's the rich jerks I have wait on...
There are many different types of people I wait on, but here are three of the most popular: The people who order but then change everything about the meal. "No carrots. No blue cheese. Can I have goat cheese instead. And I would like my bread to come at the same time as my meal. And dear, I don't drink whole milk in my coffee, please bring me two percent. And can a carrier pigeon float my meal to my place setting?" These are the people who never tip.
Then there are the people who whisper their order at me thinking I have spidey senses that can pick up on the sound frequencies. But they don't waste my time like the rude people who flag me down when I have a tray full of beverages in my hand screaming "Miss! Excuse me, we're ready to order." And then of course when I get over there, they're still looking at the menu and take forever to just spit it out. "Okay to drink I want... now what exactly is a macchiato? Uh huh, don't want that... What's good to eat here? Oh, I didn't even SEE this side of the menu..." and so on. And they always get me when I have five other tables waiting for me.
There was one time when I asked a table if I could get them anything else, and the old man just nodded his head and stared at me for an uncomfortable 23 seconds. I didn't know if he wanted more milk or was having a stroke. He finally said he didn't need anything.
But I guess it's fun making a lot of money I don't have time to spend.
Love, Me
Tee Hee... Hi.
I know, I know! I "suck," I've "let you down." Thank goodness my head is too big to care. Anyways...
So I am no longer a barista. No, world, I didn't get fired. I'm too awesome for that. My boss decided to make me a waitress instead. So I said to my boss, "Boss, are you sure? I have no waiting experience." But that clearly didn't matter because they only trained me one out of the four days they were supposed to and felt I was ready to be thrown on the floor. Don't pretend you're shocked, world. You know I'm good.
But let me tell you, I haven't worked this hard at a job ever. Maybe at the bowling alley doing birthday parties, but that was only on weekends. I work five days a week now. And life guarding the elderly in a pool that only goes to five feet was a joke. The kitchen is downstairs, so I'm constantly running up and down them. I come home to collapse in bed and can feel my feet pulse in pain. Then there's the rich jerks I have wait on...
There are many different types of people I wait on, but here are three of the most popular: The people who order but then change everything about the meal. "No carrots. No blue cheese. Can I have goat cheese instead. And I would like my bread to come at the same time as my meal. And dear, I don't drink whole milk in my coffee, please bring me two percent. And can a carrier pigeon float my meal to my place setting?" These are the people who never tip.
Then there are the people who whisper their order at me thinking I have spidey senses that can pick up on the sound frequencies. But they don't waste my time like the rude people who flag me down when I have a tray full of beverages in my hand screaming "Miss! Excuse me, we're ready to order." And then of course when I get over there, they're still looking at the menu and take forever to just spit it out. "Okay to drink I want... now what exactly is a macchiato? Uh huh, don't want that... What's good to eat here? Oh, I didn't even SEE this side of the menu..." and so on. And they always get me when I have five other tables waiting for me.
There was one time when I asked a table if I could get them anything else, and the old man just nodded his head and stared at me for an uncomfortable 23 seconds. I didn't know if he wanted more milk or was having a stroke. He finally said he didn't need anything.
But I guess it's fun making a lot of money I don't have time to spend.
Love, Me
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