CHRISTMAS TIIIIIME.
Yay.
I'm a big fan of tradition...mostly because I think change is really god awful and tradition means nothing changes. :D Christmas time for me is like a big tradition. We have a big tree, we open presents from youngest to oldest, my mom makes her Christmas fudge, and things are just good. Working really long hours lately has been pretty bad, but hopefully the mall will die down in a week or two.
I really need to start writing my post ideas down. When I'm driving, I'll start writing posts in my head and then I get home and have forgotten what I was going to write about. That's happened a few times now, actually. Woops.
My show is now over and I am very happy about that. Now after (or before) work, I actually have time to DO THINGS. Yay. I guess I should get used to being busy though. Until I get cast in a show that pays enough to support me, I'm probably going to be pulling long days for a while...having a day job and then going and doing a show at night is rough. Thankfully I get lots of free coffee. :)
I'm just going to end this post now because it's pretty lame and pointless.
December 23, 2010
December 9, 2010
Whoa
WHOA. Let's talk about how busy I've been. REALLY BUSY. Sorry, I'm sure there are like 100 crazy customer stories I could tell, but...I can't quite remember what they all are right now.
I do know that one really mean customer can ruin my whole day. I don't know why, but mean people really upset me. I know I can be sarcastic and such....but I am never blatantly RUDE to people. I like to think that I am generally a good person. I wrote this in my Senior thesis...just because I'm paid nine dollars an hour, does not mean I am WORTH nine dollars an hour. I am not a nine dollar an hour human being. I deserve to be treated like a real person.
I had a lady the other day that was just so rude to me, I almost walked out from behind my register and smacked her. I wanted to tell her that she was fat and ugly and that being MEAN on top of that probably meant she didn't have many friends and that she wasn't making any at my coffee stand by telling us we were all idiots. But I didn't. Because I have manners. Do people not realize that if they are mean to me I WILL make their drink decaf with half of the sugar they requested? I'll do it. You want coffee? TOUGH.
Also...is it customary to tell people Happy Hanukkah no matter what? Cuz I've gotten that a lot lately. Do I look Jewish? Are people in TN so confused by their Baptist ways that they see a pale girl with brown hair and assume Jewish? Just wondering...
Merry Whatever. :D
I do know that one really mean customer can ruin my whole day. I don't know why, but mean people really upset me. I know I can be sarcastic and such....but I am never blatantly RUDE to people. I like to think that I am generally a good person. I wrote this in my Senior thesis...just because I'm paid nine dollars an hour, does not mean I am WORTH nine dollars an hour. I am not a nine dollar an hour human being. I deserve to be treated like a real person.
I had a lady the other day that was just so rude to me, I almost walked out from behind my register and smacked her. I wanted to tell her that she was fat and ugly and that being MEAN on top of that probably meant she didn't have many friends and that she wasn't making any at my coffee stand by telling us we were all idiots. But I didn't. Because I have manners. Do people not realize that if they are mean to me I WILL make their drink decaf with half of the sugar they requested? I'll do it. You want coffee? TOUGH.
Also...is it customary to tell people Happy Hanukkah no matter what? Cuz I've gotten that a lot lately. Do I look Jewish? Are people in TN so confused by their Baptist ways that they see a pale girl with brown hair and assume Jewish? Just wondering...
Merry Whatever. :D
November 13, 2010
The Show Must Go On...?
So. Last night was the opening night of the Christmas musical I'm in. I thought my biggest problem would be my singing. I'm getting over a cold and some of my high notes aren't quite what I want them to be yet. Going on stage for my number, I had a pounding heart as I considered how dry it was on stage. This...was not the biggest problem I encountered during my time on stage.
Oh no, a dry throat would have been NICE.
I'm there...singin' my song about angels. My voice isn't sucking, so I'm kind of happy about that. However, I notice something out of the corner of my eye...my 84 year old cast mate, Betty, is entering. She's not supposed to enter until AFTER my song. I'm not near the end of the song...is she going to come on stage and start doing her lines over my song? That would be weird.
She never quite got there, though.
To get on stage through the "front door" of the set, you have to walk up these tall steps. Betty USUALLY has someone behind her helping her up, but today she had entered way too early and that person had not realized she was gone. On Betty's way up the stairs, she started to wobble. Before I know it she has fallen off of the steps and crashed into the table below her (It's a dinner theatre, ya know). I have seen the whole thing, gasp, stop singing, and stand on stage with my mouth wide open.
Luckily, the children that do a bit of back up for me, kept going. So at least the 7 year olds were professionals...
Literally, I just stood there. Like a fish. Mouth wide open and staring at Betty, who is insisting to everyone around her that she is okay. Her son was in the play and he jumped off stage to make sure she was alright. Betty is okay, luckily. She could have seriously hurt herself...she has a new entrance now from the back of the stage. We're pretending The Waffle House has a "back entrance" now.
What a night. I didn't have to worry about my high notes...I never sang them! Six more weeks to get the show perfect. :D
Oh no, a dry throat would have been NICE.
I'm there...singin' my song about angels. My voice isn't sucking, so I'm kind of happy about that. However, I notice something out of the corner of my eye...my 84 year old cast mate, Betty, is entering. She's not supposed to enter until AFTER my song. I'm not near the end of the song...is she going to come on stage and start doing her lines over my song? That would be weird.
She never quite got there, though.
To get on stage through the "front door" of the set, you have to walk up these tall steps. Betty USUALLY has someone behind her helping her up, but today she had entered way too early and that person had not realized she was gone. On Betty's way up the stairs, she started to wobble. Before I know it she has fallen off of the steps and crashed into the table below her (It's a dinner theatre, ya know). I have seen the whole thing, gasp, stop singing, and stand on stage with my mouth wide open.
Luckily, the children that do a bit of back up for me, kept going. So at least the 7 year olds were professionals...
Literally, I just stood there. Like a fish. Mouth wide open and staring at Betty, who is insisting to everyone around her that she is okay. Her son was in the play and he jumped off stage to make sure she was alright. Betty is okay, luckily. She could have seriously hurt herself...she has a new entrance now from the back of the stage. We're pretending The Waffle House has a "back entrance" now.
What a night. I didn't have to worry about my high notes...I never sang them! Six more weeks to get the show perfect. :D
November 8, 2010
Bubble Wrap, Please.
Seriously. I'm falling apart. The other day I broke my toe by slipping on some water and...I dunno, next thing I know, my toe is twice its normal size and I'm hopping around on one foot.
The broken toe was annoying enough because walking was tough and it made working out kind of impossible. I've been trying to go to the gym at least three times a week, and a broken toe makes that REALLY DIFFICULT. If that wasn't bad enough, yesterday I woke up extremely sick. Fever, coughing, sneezing, you name it, I've got it. However, it was tech day so I spent 10 hours at the theatre, grumpy and popping dayquil like it was candy.
I think God is trying to tell me to quit acting. This is the third show in a row that I've been sick during tech week. It's not cute. I would actually like to be a decent performer. I can't do that if I don't have a voice!
Here's hoping I make it to Christmas. Though I may end up in a freak espresso machine related accident or something.
The broken toe was annoying enough because walking was tough and it made working out kind of impossible. I've been trying to go to the gym at least three times a week, and a broken toe makes that REALLY DIFFICULT. If that wasn't bad enough, yesterday I woke up extremely sick. Fever, coughing, sneezing, you name it, I've got it. However, it was tech day so I spent 10 hours at the theatre, grumpy and popping dayquil like it was candy.
I think God is trying to tell me to quit acting. This is the third show in a row that I've been sick during tech week. It's not cute. I would actually like to be a decent performer. I can't do that if I don't have a voice!
Here's hoping I make it to Christmas. Though I may end up in a freak espresso machine related accident or something.
November 4, 2010
Crazy Town
I've had to do a lot of driving lately because of my show/work. Most of this driving is done at rush hour, so it takes me an hour to get downtown to the theatre. The radio sucks right now and I don't have a ipod player for my car, so sometimes I am left to entertain myself when I'm stuck at a red light forever.
And, like any crazy person, I've taken to talking to myself in the car. Like...full on conversations. With myself. Usually about random things...like what I want for dinner or who I think is going to get kicked off of America's Next Top Model. I caught myself the other day, looked around and yelled out, "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!" I'm sure anyone that sees me in my car wants to get far far away. I've got to look absolutely nuts. There's no blue tooth in my ear, I am clearly talking to air.
When I'm not talking to myself, I'm talking to the idiot drivers around me. Nobody downtown can drive, this is a fact. I do not consider myself an excellent driver, but I'm better than these morons. 45 on the interstate...? Really? I've seen many people drive right through red lights. I don't get it! And when somebody does something stupid on the road, I just start lecturing their car. Because, you know, they can totally hear me. It's like I'm their mother. I lay out a list of disasters that could have happened then start asking them if their head is on straight or if they are drunk or something.
Yup.
The radio needs to start picking up soon.
And, like any crazy person, I've taken to talking to myself in the car. Like...full on conversations. With myself. Usually about random things...like what I want for dinner or who I think is going to get kicked off of America's Next Top Model. I caught myself the other day, looked around and yelled out, "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!" I'm sure anyone that sees me in my car wants to get far far away. I've got to look absolutely nuts. There's no blue tooth in my ear, I am clearly talking to air.
When I'm not talking to myself, I'm talking to the idiot drivers around me. Nobody downtown can drive, this is a fact. I do not consider myself an excellent driver, but I'm better than these morons. 45 on the interstate...? Really? I've seen many people drive right through red lights. I don't get it! And when somebody does something stupid on the road, I just start lecturing their car. Because, you know, they can totally hear me. It's like I'm their mother. I lay out a list of disasters that could have happened then start asking them if their head is on straight or if they are drunk or something.
Yup.
The radio needs to start picking up soon.
October 31, 2010
This is Halloween!
So. I didn't really have any fun Halloween plans this year. I guess the past few years have been so ridiculous that one peaceful year isn't so bad. I was hoping we would have a bunch of trick or treaters, but we only had 2. :(
Right now I'm watching The Walking Dead on AMC and in an attempt to not get ridiculously scared, am distracting myself with blogging. Why not turn it off, you say? Because. It's Halloween. Zombies are in order.
So yesterday at work, my boss asked us all to dress up because it was Trick or Treat day at the mall. I went as an 80s Material Girl. I thought I did a GOOD JOB dressing up.
However, NOBODY knew what I was. "What...are you exactly?" Was a question I heard often. And even though children didn't know who I was, little girls thought I was AWESOME. So, I guess that's something...right?
The mall sent out a flyer telling us to expect 3000 kids. I thought that sounded like a lot. Well. 3000 would have been NICE. I don't know how many screaming children there were...but it was more than 3000. It was AWFUL. Not only did we have to hand out candy, but we had a huge line of adults wanting coffee...and nobody was patient. Nobody CARED that we had more than one thing to do. If we were taking orders, children would scream "TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT!" over and over again until we gave them candy. If we were giving out candy, the people in line were asking us when they could order. One person had the audacity to walk up and go "WHERE'S THE STARBUCKS?" I just glared at her. I'm a very good glarer.
So by the end of my shift, I had a torn tutu, was soaked in coffee, had lost half of a fake eyelash, and was generally unhappy. Since the mall was so crowded, I didn't get a break. This made me very hungry. Because I was so hungry, I ate a ton of trick or treat candy, which then resulted in a sugar high/crash/stomach ache.
So that was my Halloween. The best costume I saw was a 2 year old as Nemo. It was SO CUTE. He had this big stuffed fish around him and he waved his arms around like he was swimming. I feel kind of bad for the little babies that get stuck in costumes in their strollers. I can't imagine it's very comfortable. They have no choice in the matter. What if they are a pumpkin and WANT to be a ninja? Very unfair.
Two and a half hours until Halloween is gone. I have a feeling that means the Tudor house will soon be decked out for Christmas!
Right now I'm watching The Walking Dead on AMC and in an attempt to not get ridiculously scared, am distracting myself with blogging. Why not turn it off, you say? Because. It's Halloween. Zombies are in order.
So yesterday at work, my boss asked us all to dress up because it was Trick or Treat day at the mall. I went as an 80s Material Girl. I thought I did a GOOD JOB dressing up.
However, NOBODY knew what I was. "What...are you exactly?" Was a question I heard often. And even though children didn't know who I was, little girls thought I was AWESOME. So, I guess that's something...right?
The mall sent out a flyer telling us to expect 3000 kids. I thought that sounded like a lot. Well. 3000 would have been NICE. I don't know how many screaming children there were...but it was more than 3000. It was AWFUL. Not only did we have to hand out candy, but we had a huge line of adults wanting coffee...and nobody was patient. Nobody CARED that we had more than one thing to do. If we were taking orders, children would scream "TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT!" over and over again until we gave them candy. If we were giving out candy, the people in line were asking us when they could order. One person had the audacity to walk up and go "WHERE'S THE STARBUCKS?" I just glared at her. I'm a very good glarer.
So by the end of my shift, I had a torn tutu, was soaked in coffee, had lost half of a fake eyelash, and was generally unhappy. Since the mall was so crowded, I didn't get a break. This made me very hungry. Because I was so hungry, I ate a ton of trick or treat candy, which then resulted in a sugar high/crash/stomach ache.
So that was my Halloween. The best costume I saw was a 2 year old as Nemo. It was SO CUTE. He had this big stuffed fish around him and he waved his arms around like he was swimming. I feel kind of bad for the little babies that get stuck in costumes in their strollers. I can't imagine it's very comfortable. They have no choice in the matter. What if they are a pumpkin and WANT to be a ninja? Very unfair.
Two and a half hours until Halloween is gone. I have a feeling that means the Tudor house will soon be decked out for Christmas!
October 12, 2010
Do You Mean Marine Biologist?
I thought working in TN would be a lot different than Chicago. I understood that in a large city like that, I was going to get crazy and mean people. However, people are much more polite down south, so I thought the worse I would get was snooty Brentwood moms that were too worried about their calorie intake and giant SUVs to remember what "please" and "thank you" meant. While I do see several of these women daily, I also manage to get the occasional whack job in there as well.
The other day I was at the stand and this guy walked out of the shoe store to get some coffee. He was in a military uniform, though I'm not sure WHY he was wearing it in the mall. He ordered his drink, and while I made it he had a very...interesting conversation with me and the other girl that was working with me.
"So. Has anyone ever approached you two about joining the marines?"
"Um, no, I can't say they have."
"You look like you could kick some butt...how old are you guys? 16?"
I laughed at this. I had my hair in pigtails, but I certainly don't think I look like a sixteen year old.
I'm VERY good at avoiding eye contact when I think something is getting awkward, so I sorta ducked behind the espresso machine while I made the drink and left the other girl to deal with him. They talked a bit, and she informed him that she was 25, married, and wanted to start a family. The marines were not for her.
"What about you, Harry Potter? You ever thought about being a marine?"
Ok. I had my Harry Potter shirt on. I'll have you know that I got a compliment from every fourteen year old that came by! He laughed SO HARD after he said the Harry Potter thing. Harry Potter came out when I was ten...it's been a big part of my life. I saw no shame in wearing that shirt!
"Yeah, I don't think I'd be a good marine."
"Why?"
I wanted to tell him that I didn't support an institution that insisted gay people hide and that I thought the war was pointless. I also refuse to shoot/hold a gun. Ever. Rainbows and peace, man. However, I didn't say that.
"I'm not very brave. In fact...I'm kind of scared of everything. The marines wouldn't want that."
"Oh, but we could make you brave. A bit of training would be good for you."
"...Yeaaaah...no. Here's your coffee."
He continued to spout about how AWESOME being a marine was. I mean, if being a marine means walking around the mall with a latte and talking to random people, I GUESS I could do that. I prefer theatre.
On a side note...what do the marines even DO? I know what the Navy does. I know what the Air Force does. I know what the ARMY does. But...what are marines for? Mall security?
The other day I was at the stand and this guy walked out of the shoe store to get some coffee. He was in a military uniform, though I'm not sure WHY he was wearing it in the mall. He ordered his drink, and while I made it he had a very...interesting conversation with me and the other girl that was working with me.
"So. Has anyone ever approached you two about joining the marines?"
"Um, no, I can't say they have."
"You look like you could kick some butt...how old are you guys? 16?"
I laughed at this. I had my hair in pigtails, but I certainly don't think I look like a sixteen year old.
I'm VERY good at avoiding eye contact when I think something is getting awkward, so I sorta ducked behind the espresso machine while I made the drink and left the other girl to deal with him. They talked a bit, and she informed him that she was 25, married, and wanted to start a family. The marines were not for her.
"What about you, Harry Potter? You ever thought about being a marine?"
Ok. I had my Harry Potter shirt on. I'll have you know that I got a compliment from every fourteen year old that came by! He laughed SO HARD after he said the Harry Potter thing. Harry Potter came out when I was ten...it's been a big part of my life. I saw no shame in wearing that shirt!
"Yeah, I don't think I'd be a good marine."
"Why?"
I wanted to tell him that I didn't support an institution that insisted gay people hide and that I thought the war was pointless. I also refuse to shoot/hold a gun. Ever. Rainbows and peace, man. However, I didn't say that.
"I'm not very brave. In fact...I'm kind of scared of everything. The marines wouldn't want that."
"Oh, but we could make you brave. A bit of training would be good for you."
"...Yeaaaah...no. Here's your coffee."
He continued to spout about how AWESOME being a marine was. I mean, if being a marine means walking around the mall with a latte and talking to random people, I GUESS I could do that. I prefer theatre.
On a side note...what do the marines even DO? I know what the Navy does. I know what the Air Force does. I know what the ARMY does. But...what are marines for? Mall security?
October 9, 2010
Employment!
Huzzah! I got a job! Once more I am slinging lattes and slowly becoming ridiculously addicted to caffeine. This time, however, I don't have to wake up at 4 AM to do this. Nope, just 8:30. Way better than 4. I've only worked there two days, but so far I have noticed quite a few things.
1. I have a super nice boss. THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Usually I HATE my boss. This woman is super nice and she doesn't judge, and she understands I'm learning certain things and that I will get better. THANK THE LORD.
2. People cannot read menus here. I don't know if everyone is just blind and refuse to go to the eye doctor...but it's very frustrating. Everything on our menu has a description underneath it. There are also pictures. Yet every other customer asks me "What's in the raspberry mocha?" (Um. Raspberry. And mocha.) That gets frustrating.
3. Like I said, there are those pictures on the front of the menu. Remember that I am BEHIND the counter and under this little roof thingy. People will just point at a picture and go, "I want that." Because I'm supposed to know what they are pointing to automatically. Of course! How inconsiderate could I be?
4. Tippers in Nashville are way more generous than tippers in Chicago. In Chicago, I was happy if I left with four dollars in tips after a shift. Today I got TWELVE! For five hours! That ups my salary two more dollars an hour. That's nice! Yesterday I ended up with 4 for five hours of work, but we were SUPER SLOW and I got less than the other girls since I was training.
So, I think this will be a good fit. Now if that waffle house musical would call me back everything will be coming up roses. Also. Everyone needs to watch this and smile:
1. I have a super nice boss. THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Usually I HATE my boss. This woman is super nice and she doesn't judge, and she understands I'm learning certain things and that I will get better. THANK THE LORD.
2. People cannot read menus here. I don't know if everyone is just blind and refuse to go to the eye doctor...but it's very frustrating. Everything on our menu has a description underneath it. There are also pictures. Yet every other customer asks me "What's in the raspberry mocha?" (Um. Raspberry. And mocha.) That gets frustrating.
3. Like I said, there are those pictures on the front of the menu. Remember that I am BEHIND the counter and under this little roof thingy. People will just point at a picture and go, "I want that." Because I'm supposed to know what they are pointing to automatically. Of course! How inconsiderate could I be?
4. Tippers in Nashville are way more generous than tippers in Chicago. In Chicago, I was happy if I left with four dollars in tips after a shift. Today I got TWELVE! For five hours! That ups my salary two more dollars an hour. That's nice! Yesterday I ended up with 4 for five hours of work, but we were SUPER SLOW and I got less than the other girls since I was training.
So, I think this will be a good fit. Now if that waffle house musical would call me back everything will be coming up roses. Also. Everyone needs to watch this and smile:
October 3, 2010
Rambling
I'm not keeping up with this very well, am I? I guess I just don't want to post anything un-interesting...not that the post about twitter WAS interesting...
Whatever.
So the other night I had the chance to see Tituss Burgess in concert. He was in The Little Mermaid, Jersey Boys, and Guys and Dolls on Broadway. He may be the best singer I have EVER HEARD. He was just ridiculous. The man's plane had been delayed so long that he got to the theatre five minutes before the concert was supposed to start. He rehearsed with the band for fifteen minutes (a band he had NEVER met) and walked out. He had not warmed up, he was obviously exhausted, and he still managed to be perfect. He was hilarious and wonderful and if I'm half that good one day I will be very pleased.
After that I saw The Social Network. Um. Talk about a movie that was amazing! I was not expecting much at all, but it was great! The writing and acting were impeccable. Kind of a perfect movie for anyone in my generation. We're all obsessed with the Facebook. Nice to see where it came from.
Currently I am job hunting...which is weird because I'm kind of confused about what sort of day job I want. I did the barista thing...it was fine...I did the hostess thing...it was TERRIBLE but paid more than the barista thing. Retail is super boring...I'm going to call a few places tomorrow and see if they are hiring. I WANT to work at a cupcake place, but I don't think they hire non-bakers. I wouldn't trust me with cupcakes if I owned a cupcake place. That didn't make sense, but you get the point.
Here's the REAL problem though...I have no Halloween plans. NONE. I ALWAYS have Halloween plans. It is my favorite holiday...I can't just sit in my house in a costume. We live on a huge hill so there aren't trick or treaters...what do I doooo? I want to dress up and do something! Is there like a four year old I can hire to let me take trick or treating? Is that acceptable? I don't think it is.
Whatever.
So the other night I had the chance to see Tituss Burgess in concert. He was in The Little Mermaid, Jersey Boys, and Guys and Dolls on Broadway. He may be the best singer I have EVER HEARD. He was just ridiculous. The man's plane had been delayed so long that he got to the theatre five minutes before the concert was supposed to start. He rehearsed with the band for fifteen minutes (a band he had NEVER met) and walked out. He had not warmed up, he was obviously exhausted, and he still managed to be perfect. He was hilarious and wonderful and if I'm half that good one day I will be very pleased.
After that I saw The Social Network. Um. Talk about a movie that was amazing! I was not expecting much at all, but it was great! The writing and acting were impeccable. Kind of a perfect movie for anyone in my generation. We're all obsessed with the Facebook. Nice to see where it came from.
Currently I am job hunting...which is weird because I'm kind of confused about what sort of day job I want. I did the barista thing...it was fine...I did the hostess thing...it was TERRIBLE but paid more than the barista thing. Retail is super boring...I'm going to call a few places tomorrow and see if they are hiring. I WANT to work at a cupcake place, but I don't think they hire non-bakers. I wouldn't trust me with cupcakes if I owned a cupcake place. That didn't make sense, but you get the point.
Here's the REAL problem though...I have no Halloween plans. NONE. I ALWAYS have Halloween plans. It is my favorite holiday...I can't just sit in my house in a costume. We live on a huge hill so there aren't trick or treaters...what do I doooo? I want to dress up and do something! Is there like a four year old I can hire to let me take trick or treating? Is that acceptable? I don't think it is.
September 27, 2010
Not Even Popular Online
Hello. My name is Jordan Tudor and I have a problem.
I'm addicted to Twitter.
I KNOW. It's like the WORST THING EVER. I always told myself it was so stupid...but then one of my teachers told us to get everything in our name (even if we wouldn't use it) because if we DID become famous people could make a lot of money by registering our names...
ANYWAY.
I registered my name on Twitter and now I can't stop. It's like OH. I'm eating string cheese. I should let everyone know! I got a new candle? They should know that too! Granted, I'm not that popular on Twitter. I'm following 97 people and only 35 of them are following me back. In fact, people I thought were good friends won't even follow me. I need to learn how to have more interesting tweets....or something. Man. I sound dumb.
It just makes me feel like I'm best friends with celebrities sometimes. I mean there's Kathy Griffin on my front page and she's letting me know what her day is like...Stephen Colbert is posting about the show he just filmed. It's like we're besties!
I realize that they don't follow me, thus do not care about my day, but I can see their day! And that's neat!
Yeah. So. Twitter Rehab may be in order...just sayin'...
I'm addicted to Twitter.
I KNOW. It's like the WORST THING EVER. I always told myself it was so stupid...but then one of my teachers told us to get everything in our name (even if we wouldn't use it) because if we DID become famous people could make a lot of money by registering our names...
ANYWAY.
I registered my name on Twitter and now I can't stop. It's like OH. I'm eating string cheese. I should let everyone know! I got a new candle? They should know that too! Granted, I'm not that popular on Twitter. I'm following 97 people and only 35 of them are following me back. In fact, people I thought were good friends won't even follow me. I need to learn how to have more interesting tweets....or something. Man. I sound dumb.
It just makes me feel like I'm best friends with celebrities sometimes. I mean there's Kathy Griffin on my front page and she's letting me know what her day is like...Stephen Colbert is posting about the show he just filmed. It's like we're besties!
I realize that they don't follow me, thus do not care about my day, but I can see their day! And that's neat!
Yeah. So. Twitter Rehab may be in order...just sayin'...
September 22, 2010
Southern Sushi
I like sushi. I'm not very fancy with the sushi I like though, as I just started getting into it. My sister attempted to make me eat eel once and it was an epic fail. I stick with the crab, salmon, and SOMETIMES tuna. However, in Tennessee there is this wonderful thing.
Deep fried sushi.
My favorite sushi restaurant has it and I tried it once and don't care to go back to "regular" sushi. The fish is still raw, it's just warmed up a bit. The rice is EXTRA crunchy because it's...well...fried. It's just wonderful in every way possible. However, I feel bad when I am eating it. Sushi is supposed to be healthy. I go to a sushi restaurant thinking I'm going to have a pretty decent, healthy meal. Deep frying said meal takes away all nutritional value! But it's just so yummy!!
What do I do about that? You may think it sounds gross, but once you've tried it, it's very hard to not love it.
Deep fried sushi.
My favorite sushi restaurant has it and I tried it once and don't care to go back to "regular" sushi. The fish is still raw, it's just warmed up a bit. The rice is EXTRA crunchy because it's...well...fried. It's just wonderful in every way possible. However, I feel bad when I am eating it. Sushi is supposed to be healthy. I go to a sushi restaurant thinking I'm going to have a pretty decent, healthy meal. Deep frying said meal takes away all nutritional value! But it's just so yummy!!
What do I do about that? You may think it sounds gross, but once you've tried it, it's very hard to not love it.
September 16, 2010
N-Y-C
So I had a very eventful trip to New York. I auditioned for my very first Broadway show and sang well, so that's good. I learned that being a non-equity actor in NYC is kinda hard. I had to wake up at 4 AM to get to that Broadway call and I wasn't seen until 1 PM. Being Non-Equity I got to sing less than the Equity actors and I think the casting associate was merely humoring all of us. "Great job!" he said, when I was done singing. As if I was some pre-schooler that had just colored in the lines for the first time. Whatever, eventually it will get better. Paying dues is important. All of the Equity actors were older than me, they were probably in my boat when they were 22.
Something very interesting happened to me today. I was downtown with Davey Joe, Andi, and Annie. We had spent a little time at The Drama Book Shop (where one can purchase Shakespeare action figures...I want one). After convincing Andi that no, she did not need to buy a dozen plays, we decided to go get some lunch. Annie wanted Taco Bell because we were deprived of one in Chicago and it was cheap. So, to Taco Bell we go!
We are all sitting there eating out lunch, talking happily when Davey's eyes get big and he straightens up. "You guys...you guys!" All of the sudden a tall man dressed entirely in black walks past us. This would be normal except for one thing...this man has a very scary clown mask on that covers his entire face. He also had gloves on. We all stare at each other as he walks up to the counter.
"Should we leave?" Davey asks, looking around frantically.
"Um....YES you should not have to ask that question!" Annie chimes in and we all grab our food and run out the door. Two other tables follow us.
We're all so scared that we run to the police man that is a few cars down, writing a parking ticket. Annie decides she should tell him about the scary man in the mask that seriously looked like he was going to rob the Taco Bell.
Andi looks over confused, "I thought he was a street performer?"
"Andi, he was going to rob that Taco Bell!"
Annie finishes talking to the police man and he says he'll go check it out. He then proceeds to cross the street...and walk in the other direction. We had pointed to the Taco Bell...he knew where it was.
"What is he doing?" Davey Joe asks
"New York's finest...right there." I reply as we cross the street and pass a man yelling at everyone who walks by.
"I AM BIPOLAR SCHIZOPHRENIC! I COULD KILL YOU!" He is screaming at the top of his lungs. Good to know...I'm so glad that the crazies were out on 8th Avenue today. I wonder if he was yelling at the civilians on the street or the voices in his head...
I get to the airport and my flight is delayed two hours because there is a TORNADO in the city. What is up with that? NYC is NOT supposed to have storms like that! I was sitting on the floor trying to charge my phone and laptop when I noticed this big group of girls in sparkly cowboy hats in the bar across from me DOWNING shots. Lots of shots. So of course they are on my plane. They are taking pictures, screaming, and being generally obnoxious. Apparently one of them is getting married, but I don't really care. I'm hoping a flight attendant shuts them up soon...or that their window mysteriously breaks and they get sucked out into the atmosphere...
Something very interesting happened to me today. I was downtown with Davey Joe, Andi, and Annie. We had spent a little time at The Drama Book Shop (where one can purchase Shakespeare action figures...I want one). After convincing Andi that no, she did not need to buy a dozen plays, we decided to go get some lunch. Annie wanted Taco Bell because we were deprived of one in Chicago and it was cheap. So, to Taco Bell we go!
We are all sitting there eating out lunch, talking happily when Davey's eyes get big and he straightens up. "You guys...you guys!" All of the sudden a tall man dressed entirely in black walks past us. This would be normal except for one thing...this man has a very scary clown mask on that covers his entire face. He also had gloves on. We all stare at each other as he walks up to the counter.
"Should we leave?" Davey asks, looking around frantically.
"Um....YES you should not have to ask that question!" Annie chimes in and we all grab our food and run out the door. Two other tables follow us.
We're all so scared that we run to the police man that is a few cars down, writing a parking ticket. Annie decides she should tell him about the scary man in the mask that seriously looked like he was going to rob the Taco Bell.
Andi looks over confused, "I thought he was a street performer?"
"Andi, he was going to rob that Taco Bell!"
Annie finishes talking to the police man and he says he'll go check it out. He then proceeds to cross the street...and walk in the other direction. We had pointed to the Taco Bell...he knew where it was.
"What is he doing?" Davey Joe asks
"New York's finest...right there." I reply as we cross the street and pass a man yelling at everyone who walks by.
"I AM BIPOLAR SCHIZOPHRENIC! I COULD KILL YOU!" He is screaming at the top of his lungs. Good to know...I'm so glad that the crazies were out on 8th Avenue today. I wonder if he was yelling at the civilians on the street or the voices in his head...
I get to the airport and my flight is delayed two hours because there is a TORNADO in the city. What is up with that? NYC is NOT supposed to have storms like that! I was sitting on the floor trying to charge my phone and laptop when I noticed this big group of girls in sparkly cowboy hats in the bar across from me DOWNING shots. Lots of shots. So of course they are on my plane. They are taking pictures, screaming, and being generally obnoxious. Apparently one of them is getting married, but I don't really care. I'm hoping a flight attendant shuts them up soon...or that their window mysteriously breaks and they get sucked out into the atmosphere...
September 13, 2010
Can Santa Fit Mimosas In His Bag?
I’m in between jobs right now, so I only have old stories to tell.
Sorry!
So it has been a sort of Tudor Family Tradition to have mimosas on Christmas morning during present opening/breakfast. We like Christmas at the Tudor house. It’s generally a good day.
I have been waiting for the Christmas mimosa for YEARS. I wasn’t allowed to have one because I wasn’t 21. My sister had been 21 since I was 13! It wasn’t fair! So last year was my first Christmas as a 21 year old. I had told everyone at school that I was finally going to get my Christmas morning mimosa. It was my time. I was a big kid now. I was So. Excited.
I ran downstairs on Christmas morning very excited. When the present giving was done, I would have my prize! Everything was going as normal, the dogs were getting in the way, biscuits were cooking, my parents were generally annoyed that I had woken up at eight AM and demanded that the morning start (I used to wake up that early on my own, now I set an alarm on purpose).
However, we had one small problem. I woke up Christmas morning and there was no mimosa. My sister couldn’t come to Christmas because cancer wouldn’t take a holiday (very rude of the disease, I might add). After presents and breakfast I looked around our wrapping paper covered living room and asked my mom where the mimosas were.
“Casey isn’t here! If everyone isn’t here we aren’t going to have mimosas.”
I sat at the kitchen counter with my mouth open for a little while and decided I would make my OWN mimosa. We usually have a random bottle of champagne lying around somewhere!
Too bad there wasn’t any orange juice.
All I have to say is that I better get a Christmas mimosa this year. 22 years of waiting is quite long enough, thank you.
And no Casey, I do not blame this on you. Don’t go there.
Sorry!
So it has been a sort of Tudor Family Tradition to have mimosas on Christmas morning during present opening/breakfast. We like Christmas at the Tudor house. It’s generally a good day.
I have been waiting for the Christmas mimosa for YEARS. I wasn’t allowed to have one because I wasn’t 21. My sister had been 21 since I was 13! It wasn’t fair! So last year was my first Christmas as a 21 year old. I had told everyone at school that I was finally going to get my Christmas morning mimosa. It was my time. I was a big kid now. I was So. Excited.
I ran downstairs on Christmas morning very excited. When the present giving was done, I would have my prize! Everything was going as normal, the dogs were getting in the way, biscuits were cooking, my parents were generally annoyed that I had woken up at eight AM and demanded that the morning start (I used to wake up that early on my own, now I set an alarm on purpose).
However, we had one small problem. I woke up Christmas morning and there was no mimosa. My sister couldn’t come to Christmas because cancer wouldn’t take a holiday (very rude of the disease, I might add). After presents and breakfast I looked around our wrapping paper covered living room and asked my mom where the mimosas were.
“Casey isn’t here! If everyone isn’t here we aren’t going to have mimosas.”
I sat at the kitchen counter with my mouth open for a little while and decided I would make my OWN mimosa. We usually have a random bottle of champagne lying around somewhere!
Too bad there wasn’t any orange juice.
All I have to say is that I better get a Christmas mimosa this year. 22 years of waiting is quite long enough, thank you.
And no Casey, I do not blame this on you. Don’t go there.
September 8, 2010
So. This happened.
This conversation just made me laugh. So much. It looks weird because it happened on facebook chat.
Victor
ok so stressing out
12:08am
Me
why
12:09am
Victor
well i am doing the call tomorrow for avenue q, and i realized that i only have 2 pairs of pants
12:09am
Me
...okay...
12:09am
Victor
they both look terrible on me
12:09am
Victor
i have no clean clothes
12:09am
Me
they do not look terrible on you
12:09am
Victor
but they do lol
12:09am
Me
ok. are any of the dirty pants salvagable with febreeze or perfume
12:09am
Victor
yeah
they just don't fit as snug
like they are very loose
since i've worn them a few times lol
12:10am
Me
ok. well, directors don't care if your pants are tight
12:10am
Victor
i mean i don't want them gay victor tight
12:10am
Me
lmao
I'm glad you got where I was going with that.
Victor
ok so stressing out
12:08am
Me
why
12:09am
Victor
well i am doing the call tomorrow for avenue q, and i realized that i only have 2 pairs of pants
12:09am
Me
...okay...
12:09am
Victor
they both look terrible on me
12:09am
Victor
i have no clean clothes
12:09am
Me
they do not look terrible on you
12:09am
Victor
but they do lol
12:09am
Me
ok. are any of the dirty pants salvagable with febreeze or perfume
12:09am
Victor
yeah
they just don't fit as snug
like they are very loose
since i've worn them a few times lol
12:10am
Me
ok. well, directors don't care if your pants are tight
12:10am
Victor
i mean i don't want them gay victor tight
12:10am
Me
lmao
I'm glad you got where I was going with that.
September 6, 2010
Observations
Slowly staring to realize the important decision I made was maybe the wrong choice.
People are too judge-y and expect way too much out of me right now. Hello. My name is Jordan and I recently graduated college. I am not going to grad school right away (if at all) which puts me in a lovely state of limbo and confusion. I also have a degree that has been called fake by important family members a number of times. Minimum wage, a lot of auditions that end in nothing, and Nintendo is about all I can pull off right now.
Sorry.
People are too judge-y and expect way too much out of me right now. Hello. My name is Jordan and I recently graduated college. I am not going to grad school right away (if at all) which puts me in a lovely state of limbo and confusion. I also have a degree that has been called fake by important family members a number of times. Minimum wage, a lot of auditions that end in nothing, and Nintendo is about all I can pull off right now.
Sorry.
August 23, 2010
When I Grow Up
I'm gunna be a Ghost Hunter. Yup. It's official.
Ghost Hunters just posted on a casting website that they are looking for a girl to join the team that is interested in the paranormal. I AM SO GOING TO BE ON THAT SHOW. You better bet I submitted immediately...after I danced around my room happily.
Though I'm not sure if I'd be any good at it. Crawling around dark scary places isn't exactly my thing. You aren't supposed to scream if you get scared, nor are you supposed to run away. Both of these things I am VERY good at. Maybe if I'm cute enough they won't care and can just sit me down in one spot and say "stay."
Yup. New career plan.
Ghost Hunters just posted on a casting website that they are looking for a girl to join the team that is interested in the paranormal. I AM SO GOING TO BE ON THAT SHOW. You better bet I submitted immediately...after I danced around my room happily.
Though I'm not sure if I'd be any good at it. Crawling around dark scary places isn't exactly my thing. You aren't supposed to scream if you get scared, nor are you supposed to run away. Both of these things I am VERY good at. Maybe if I'm cute enough they won't care and can just sit me down in one spot and say "stay."
Yup. New career plan.
August 19, 2010
Speak of the Devil
...That kid came back in again tonight. He screamed about blood some more.
Also. This happened.
A woman walks in, she stares at me. "Do you guys have pancakes?"
...the word pancakes is in our name. There is also a giant sign by me that says "Pancakes!"
Then two 70 year olds sat in a booth and made out for half an hour. Scarred for life.
Anyway. Have you noticed it's really hard to make up your mind when it comes to really big decisions? Right now I have one to make and I swear I change my mind every ten seconds. I get it. I'm 22. It's supposed to be like this. But cant I like...have my life plan written out for me so I know what decision I'm supposed to make? Is that so much to ask? I don't think so!
I locked myself out of my apartment tonight. That was great. I spent twenty minutes sitting on the floor outside of my door trying not to cry. My super wasn't answering his phone and I had noooo idea what to do. I was planning on couch surfing at a friend's, but I didn't have to. Luckily the super finally answered his phone and he was NOT HAPPY with me. It was only 11 PM...not too late, right? Right.
Man this post was ADD.
Also. This happened.
A woman walks in, she stares at me. "Do you guys have pancakes?"
...the word pancakes is in our name. There is also a giant sign by me that says "Pancakes!"
Then two 70 year olds sat in a booth and made out for half an hour. Scarred for life.
Anyway. Have you noticed it's really hard to make up your mind when it comes to really big decisions? Right now I have one to make and I swear I change my mind every ten seconds. I get it. I'm 22. It's supposed to be like this. But cant I like...have my life plan written out for me so I know what decision I'm supposed to make? Is that so much to ask? I don't think so!
I locked myself out of my apartment tonight. That was great. I spent twenty minutes sitting on the floor outside of my door trying not to cry. My super wasn't answering his phone and I had noooo idea what to do. I was planning on couch surfing at a friend's, but I didn't have to. Luckily the super finally answered his phone and he was NOT HAPPY with me. It was only 11 PM...not too late, right? Right.
Man this post was ADD.
August 18, 2010
Kids Are Scary
Aaaand I'm back in Chicago after a few days in TN where I witnessed nepotism at its finest! Nothing quite like going to audition for your dream role only to find out it is already promised to the director's daughter. And the other leads are for his son and daughter-in-law. Cool.
Anyway, I've been meaning to post this story and haven't had the chance to. So here we go.
I was, once again, working a dinner shift and it was slow. We generally welcome any customers at that point because it gives the entire restaurant something to do. A family of five walks in, all three kids under the age of seven. The oldest son is being extremely loud and obnoxious and telling his mother that his blood is itching. He then glares at me as I am getting the menus and informs me that I, in fact, have too much blood in my body.
Cute kid.
I take them to a booth that they do not want and end up having to trek the entire length of the restaurant to get them a booth in the back corner. I guess they want to hide the strange child from the world. Understandable. I would be embarrassed of him too. Unfortunately the mother is difficult too and is going through the menu demanding all of these changes be made to recipes and what not. Fiiine, whatever. She tells me to in no way, shape, or form make this mango smoothie with anything pineapple. She does not like pineapple. I put pineapple juice in it. She loves it.
As I am taking the smoothie to the table, I see the strange child scribbling madly all over the chicken on our kids menu. In red, of course. Blood, obviously. Just as I put the smoothie down, the adorable little child picks up his butter knife and THROWS it at me. It hits me in the hip and clatters to the floor. Thankfully it was not a steak knife and nothing happened. The mother doesn't apologize, doesn't really CARE, just laughs it off and dismisses me with a wave of her hand like I'm a servant.
UM HELLO. YOUR CHILD IS A SERIAL KILLER. Maybe we need to be paying less attention to our dislike of pineapple and instead focusing on our obviously disturbed kid. He continued to draw blood all over everything and scream occasionally about other morbid things.
She then tipped her waitress two dollars for a fifty dollar tab. Maybe she's poor because she's paying so much for her son's psychiatric help? I certainly hope that's the reason.
Demented seven year olds that scream about blood and throw knives at people? Am I on Candid Camera?
Anyway, I've been meaning to post this story and haven't had the chance to. So here we go.
I was, once again, working a dinner shift and it was slow. We generally welcome any customers at that point because it gives the entire restaurant something to do. A family of five walks in, all three kids under the age of seven. The oldest son is being extremely loud and obnoxious and telling his mother that his blood is itching. He then glares at me as I am getting the menus and informs me that I, in fact, have too much blood in my body.
Cute kid.
I take them to a booth that they do not want and end up having to trek the entire length of the restaurant to get them a booth in the back corner. I guess they want to hide the strange child from the world. Understandable. I would be embarrassed of him too. Unfortunately the mother is difficult too and is going through the menu demanding all of these changes be made to recipes and what not. Fiiine, whatever. She tells me to in no way, shape, or form make this mango smoothie with anything pineapple. She does not like pineapple. I put pineapple juice in it. She loves it.
As I am taking the smoothie to the table, I see the strange child scribbling madly all over the chicken on our kids menu. In red, of course. Blood, obviously. Just as I put the smoothie down, the adorable little child picks up his butter knife and THROWS it at me. It hits me in the hip and clatters to the floor. Thankfully it was not a steak knife and nothing happened. The mother doesn't apologize, doesn't really CARE, just laughs it off and dismisses me with a wave of her hand like I'm a servant.
UM HELLO. YOUR CHILD IS A SERIAL KILLER. Maybe we need to be paying less attention to our dislike of pineapple and instead focusing on our obviously disturbed kid. He continued to draw blood all over everything and scream occasionally about other morbid things.
She then tipped her waitress two dollars for a fifty dollar tab. Maybe she's poor because she's paying so much for her son's psychiatric help? I certainly hope that's the reason.
Demented seven year olds that scream about blood and throw knives at people? Am I on Candid Camera?
August 12, 2010
Sorry, I Cannot Hear You, I'm Kinda Busy
I have to answer the phones at work. It really annoys me because I am not a secretary. I am not paid to be a secretary, yet the managers give out the front desk phone number to all of their business associates. Their wives call all of the time too. They both have iPhones! They can give that number out!
When it isn't for one of the managers it is usually a to-go order. I really wish people could place the orders online. When it's really busy, the last thing I want to do is stop everything I'm doing to answer the phone and take down an order. Today, I got such a lovely call from a guy.
Man on phone (MOP): Yeah, I want an omelette.
Me: Okay, sir. What kind would you like?
MOP: I don't know...vegetables.
(I groan inwardly and read him the types of omelettes we make with vegetables. He makes me repeat half of it, gets angry at the prices, then tells me he isn't sure what he wants. He offers to call me back...which he does...five seconds later)
MOP: Okay...I know what I want. But I need you to grill the vegetables before you put them in with the eggs.
Me: Well, the vegetables go in before cooking so they will be cooked along with the eggs.
MOP: No. Grill them.
Me: I'm sorry sir, my computer doesn't really have that option.
MOP: So go back there and tell the cooks what to do. I want them grilled.
Me: ...Yeah fine. I'm not promising anything.
(I get pissy on the phone since they can't tell what my face is doing)
He hangs up and shows up ten minutes later demanding his food. It's not ready. I told him 15 minutes. He yells at me about being double parked. I think about telling him that he's really far too ugly to think he is so special. But I don't.
All of the sudden he walks to a table and starts picking up the silverware and glasses. "Sir, what are you doing?" "I need silverware and a glass." "Well there will be plastic silverware in the bag...and you didn't order a drink, why do you need the glass?" "...Uh. I'm going to want water later."
...His attitude is really not helping me give him wonderful customer service. "Sir, I can give you water in a plastic cup if you'd like." "No. I want it in this glass." "Well you can't have that glass, it is ours and it costs money." "Well that's how I want my water."
...
I hate people.
I go and get him water in a freaking plastic cup and hand it to him. His omelette comes out from the kitchen and he starts pestering me about how it was cooked. "Did you make sure this didn't touch a griddle that cooks meat?" "They wipe the griddle down in between each order." "No. I can't have my food cooked on anything that has ever touched meat. Ever."
...Then go to a different restaurant buddy. You paid 9 dollars for your food. This is not Morton's. "Yeah, it should be fine. They cook the eggs on a different griddle than the meat."
It's a lie. I hope he's deathly allergic to invisible meat particles and chokes on his hashbrowns.
When it isn't for one of the managers it is usually a to-go order. I really wish people could place the orders online. When it's really busy, the last thing I want to do is stop everything I'm doing to answer the phone and take down an order. Today, I got such a lovely call from a guy.
Man on phone (MOP): Yeah, I want an omelette.
Me: Okay, sir. What kind would you like?
MOP: I don't know...vegetables.
(I groan inwardly and read him the types of omelettes we make with vegetables. He makes me repeat half of it, gets angry at the prices, then tells me he isn't sure what he wants. He offers to call me back...which he does...five seconds later)
MOP: Okay...I know what I want. But I need you to grill the vegetables before you put them in with the eggs.
Me: Well, the vegetables go in before cooking so they will be cooked along with the eggs.
MOP: No. Grill them.
Me: I'm sorry sir, my computer doesn't really have that option.
MOP: So go back there and tell the cooks what to do. I want them grilled.
Me: ...Yeah fine. I'm not promising anything.
(I get pissy on the phone since they can't tell what my face is doing)
He hangs up and shows up ten minutes later demanding his food. It's not ready. I told him 15 minutes. He yells at me about being double parked. I think about telling him that he's really far too ugly to think he is so special. But I don't.
All of the sudden he walks to a table and starts picking up the silverware and glasses. "Sir, what are you doing?" "I need silverware and a glass." "Well there will be plastic silverware in the bag...and you didn't order a drink, why do you need the glass?" "...Uh. I'm going to want water later."
...His attitude is really not helping me give him wonderful customer service. "Sir, I can give you water in a plastic cup if you'd like." "No. I want it in this glass." "Well you can't have that glass, it is ours and it costs money." "Well that's how I want my water."
...
I hate people.
I go and get him water in a freaking plastic cup and hand it to him. His omelette comes out from the kitchen and he starts pestering me about how it was cooked. "Did you make sure this didn't touch a griddle that cooks meat?" "They wipe the griddle down in between each order." "No. I can't have my food cooked on anything that has ever touched meat. Ever."
...Then go to a different restaurant buddy. You paid 9 dollars for your food. This is not Morton's. "Yeah, it should be fine. They cook the eggs on a different griddle than the meat."
It's a lie. I hope he's deathly allergic to invisible meat particles and chokes on his hashbrowns.
August 10, 2010
Concentration
This week I'm working dinner shifts. Dinner shifts in a breakfast restaurant are very slow. They only have three of us working a dinner shift - two servers and me. There's usually one manager on duty that sits in the office and smokes, ignoring anything we happen to need.
My main task during a dinner shift is cleaning the bar and taking to-go orders. To-go orders piss me off because the managers take the tips for them. They don't do anything for the to-go orders...yet they get all the tips. These people think they are tipping me...I have to say thank you and smile like they are ridiculously generous. I never see any of that money.
Anyway, tonight was REALLY slow. Around 6:30 the restaurant was completely empty. The servers and I were just staring at each other and eating the mints. We stayed empty...for two hours. I wiped the entire bar down with bleach, organized juice by color, cleaned the windows, cleaned out the espresso machine...and after all of that was done I found myself standing up front alone, harmonizing with every song that came on the speakers. This continued for a good ten minutes until I turned around and looked at the lost and found. Someone had left their copy of A Picture of Dorian Gray at their table and had not come back to claim it. I haven't read that book and I love Oscar Wilde, so I figured I would give it a try. I mean I honestly had nothing else to do. I had looked for things to clean and there was nothing left. Reading a bit until a customer came in couldn't be too bad...right?
Well, I was twelve pages in when the manager on duty appeared from the kitchen. "Jordan!" I look over and remember that there is a camera right above my head that feeds into a monitor on his desk...oops.
"Yes?"
"Put that away! You need to concentrate!" He doesn't wait for a response and disappears back to his hole. I look around the restaurant and am quite confused. Concentrate on what...exactly? The masses of people banging at our door to get a table? Oh wait...there are no people.
I really dislike the cameras. He came back later to tell me to stop talking to the servers because we all had work to do. What that work was, I'm not really sure. I had done all of my side jobs. I had even rearranged all of the money in the drawer so that all of the faces were looking the same direction. Eventually I just picked up a menu and pretended to be memorizing it while I harmonized with the music some more.
Eventually a customer came in...and left five minutes later because the Wi-Fi wasn't working. I rebelled and made myself a latte. If I can't read and I can't talk to anyone, I'm going to steal the espresso. That's just how it goes.
My main task during a dinner shift is cleaning the bar and taking to-go orders. To-go orders piss me off because the managers take the tips for them. They don't do anything for the to-go orders...yet they get all the tips. These people think they are tipping me...I have to say thank you and smile like they are ridiculously generous. I never see any of that money.
Anyway, tonight was REALLY slow. Around 6:30 the restaurant was completely empty. The servers and I were just staring at each other and eating the mints. We stayed empty...for two hours. I wiped the entire bar down with bleach, organized juice by color, cleaned the windows, cleaned out the espresso machine...and after all of that was done I found myself standing up front alone, harmonizing with every song that came on the speakers. This continued for a good ten minutes until I turned around and looked at the lost and found. Someone had left their copy of A Picture of Dorian Gray at their table and had not come back to claim it. I haven't read that book and I love Oscar Wilde, so I figured I would give it a try. I mean I honestly had nothing else to do. I had looked for things to clean and there was nothing left. Reading a bit until a customer came in couldn't be too bad...right?
Well, I was twelve pages in when the manager on duty appeared from the kitchen. "Jordan!" I look over and remember that there is a camera right above my head that feeds into a monitor on his desk...oops.
"Yes?"
"Put that away! You need to concentrate!" He doesn't wait for a response and disappears back to his hole. I look around the restaurant and am quite confused. Concentrate on what...exactly? The masses of people banging at our door to get a table? Oh wait...there are no people.
I really dislike the cameras. He came back later to tell me to stop talking to the servers because we all had work to do. What that work was, I'm not really sure. I had done all of my side jobs. I had even rearranged all of the money in the drawer so that all of the faces were looking the same direction. Eventually I just picked up a menu and pretended to be memorizing it while I harmonized with the music some more.
Eventually a customer came in...and left five minutes later because the Wi-Fi wasn't working. I rebelled and made myself a latte. If I can't read and I can't talk to anyone, I'm going to steal the espresso. That's just how it goes.
August 8, 2010
Creative Cooking
Sometimes I start cooking things before I check for all of the ingredients. I don't particularly like to cook because I'm terrible at it, so I just throw things around like an idiot. Today, that led to an interesting dinner.
I decided to cook the spinach tortellini I've had in my fridge for the past two weeks. Buitoni is truly a God send. Now you may think that pasta would be difficult to complete. You clearly don't know me. I threw the pasta into the boiling water and set my microwave timer for the usual 8 minutes. It finished boiling and I had to creatively use a plate over the top of the pot to get rid of the water (I keep forgetting that the last strainer I had was my roommate's...and I never think about needing one until it is way too late). I open the fridge to retrieve my tomato sauce and...it's not there. I threw it away because it was old. Darn it.
I look in the fridge and realize that I don't have much to put on this pasta. String cheese won't work. Neither will chocolate pudding. However, I have some of that yogurt butter spread and laughing cow 35 calorie soft cheese wedges. That could...possibly be good...and a low fat sauce, right?! Right. So I melt a tablespoon of the butter with the cheese in the microwave and stir...it's kind of thick but that shouldn't bother me too much.
I put it over my pasta and give it a try. It's delicious. I am a genius!
The odds of one of my made up recipes every being delicious again are slim to none. However, I will always remember the day that I made pasta sauce out of laughing cow cheese.
I decided to cook the spinach tortellini I've had in my fridge for the past two weeks. Buitoni is truly a God send. Now you may think that pasta would be difficult to complete. You clearly don't know me. I threw the pasta into the boiling water and set my microwave timer for the usual 8 minutes. It finished boiling and I had to creatively use a plate over the top of the pot to get rid of the water (I keep forgetting that the last strainer I had was my roommate's...and I never think about needing one until it is way too late). I open the fridge to retrieve my tomato sauce and...it's not there. I threw it away because it was old. Darn it.
I look in the fridge and realize that I don't have much to put on this pasta. String cheese won't work. Neither will chocolate pudding. However, I have some of that yogurt butter spread and laughing cow 35 calorie soft cheese wedges. That could...possibly be good...and a low fat sauce, right?! Right. So I melt a tablespoon of the butter with the cheese in the microwave and stir...it's kind of thick but that shouldn't bother me too much.
I put it over my pasta and give it a try. It's delicious. I am a genius!
The odds of one of my made up recipes every being delicious again are slim to none. However, I will always remember the day that I made pasta sauce out of laughing cow cheese.
August 6, 2010
The Breakfast Club
I work at a very busy breakfast restaurant in downtown Chicago. My title is Hostess/Barista, though sometimes I feel like Secretary/Girl Everyone Gets Mad At. I guess I never realized just how much anger is directed toward the girl standing at the front of the restaurant. It really isn't my fault if there is a thirty minute wait. I do not walk around the restaurant telling people to eat slower so the people up front have to wait longer.
For some reason, old ladies REALLY hate me. I'm attacked by at least one every shift. The other day one walked in and looked at the menu, then to me.
"I can't have dairy or eggs. I don't want pancakes or french toast. I don't want lunch either. What's on your menu I can have?"
I stared at her and then the line that was forming out the door. Did it look like I had time for this? This was a breakfast restaurant. Our menu was on the door...what did she expect?
"I'm sorry ma'am, if you don't want pancakes or french toast I'm afraid there isn't much you can have. We have oatmeal, but it's made with milk. You absolutely can't have eggs?"
"No, I just told you that! Why can't you accommodate people like me?! Do you know how hard it is to not be able to eat eggs? You need to have something on this menu for me!"
I want to point out that she just said she didn't WANT the pancakes. If she can eat the pancakes, then there is something on the menu for her. Instead I smile and apologize. She tosses the menu on the floor and leaves.
The next day an older couple came in and asked for a table for two. I wasn't seating at the time and motioned them over to a chair where they could wait to be seated by the other hostess. They ignored the direction I pointed them in and backed up, hiding in a corner. When it isn't too crowded, we don't have a list. So guests generally form a line to be seated. There was obviously a line. They were ignoring it.
A few minutes go by and the woman comes up to me, ridiculously angry. "EXCUSE ME! You said we would be next!" (No. I did not.) "She has taken other tables of two and not us!" At this moment in time I was on the phone taking a to-go order. I had to put the poor man on hold and step over to the woman. "Ma'am if you could just step right over here, he'll seat you as soon as he gets back." "Well hello, we've been over there forever! Why did you tell me to go over there?"
...
To customers at a restaurant, five minutes is forever. And um...I did not tell her to go over to the corner. She made that up. It was her decision to hide in the corner and let people take her table. How, exactly, this was my fault, I'm not sure. But she rolled her eyes and scoffed at me as she walked off to take her seat.
You'd think breakfast would be a happy time. I mean we load the customers up with sugar, butter, and chocolate. What more could they want? One day I'm going to blurt out that I'm not even paid ten dollars an hour and that if they want me to forget everything I'm doing just for them, they can hand me a twenty.
Just a thought...
For some reason, old ladies REALLY hate me. I'm attacked by at least one every shift. The other day one walked in and looked at the menu, then to me.
"I can't have dairy or eggs. I don't want pancakes or french toast. I don't want lunch either. What's on your menu I can have?"
I stared at her and then the line that was forming out the door. Did it look like I had time for this? This was a breakfast restaurant. Our menu was on the door...what did she expect?
"I'm sorry ma'am, if you don't want pancakes or french toast I'm afraid there isn't much you can have. We have oatmeal, but it's made with milk. You absolutely can't have eggs?"
"No, I just told you that! Why can't you accommodate people like me?! Do you know how hard it is to not be able to eat eggs? You need to have something on this menu for me!"
I want to point out that she just said she didn't WANT the pancakes. If she can eat the pancakes, then there is something on the menu for her. Instead I smile and apologize. She tosses the menu on the floor and leaves.
The next day an older couple came in and asked for a table for two. I wasn't seating at the time and motioned them over to a chair where they could wait to be seated by the other hostess. They ignored the direction I pointed them in and backed up, hiding in a corner. When it isn't too crowded, we don't have a list. So guests generally form a line to be seated. There was obviously a line. They were ignoring it.
A few minutes go by and the woman comes up to me, ridiculously angry. "EXCUSE ME! You said we would be next!" (No. I did not.) "She has taken other tables of two and not us!" At this moment in time I was on the phone taking a to-go order. I had to put the poor man on hold and step over to the woman. "Ma'am if you could just step right over here, he'll seat you as soon as he gets back." "Well hello, we've been over there forever! Why did you tell me to go over there?"
...
To customers at a restaurant, five minutes is forever. And um...I did not tell her to go over to the corner. She made that up. It was her decision to hide in the corner and let people take her table. How, exactly, this was my fault, I'm not sure. But she rolled her eyes and scoffed at me as she walked off to take her seat.
You'd think breakfast would be a happy time. I mean we load the customers up with sugar, butter, and chocolate. What more could they want? One day I'm going to blurt out that I'm not even paid ten dollars an hour and that if they want me to forget everything I'm doing just for them, they can hand me a twenty.
Just a thought...
The Story That Started It All
I wrote this out of boredom...thought I'd re-post it for kicks.
For those that don't know, I recently moved into a new apartment. I've never lived completely on my own, so I knew things would not go right during the first week or two here. However, I did not realize that the things that could go wrong would culminate into one hour of my life after days of calm living.
Today I woke up and was doing fine. I had planned to pack for the trip I'm going on in two days and I was going to go wander around for a bit. I wandered, got some coffee and a pizza to cook (I figured the pizza would feed me for a few more meals...healthy eating at its finest). I returned home and THOUGHT it was going to be a peaceful evening full of wedding shows, Toddlers and Tiaras, and Top Chef.
I was wrong.
I walked into my bathroom to grab my glasses and there was a spider on the ceiling of my shower. I ...do not like spiders. I am, to be honest, terrified of spiders. I generally run away from spiders. However, there is nobody here to kill the spiders but me. As it was on my ceiling, I could not actually reach it and I refused to throw something at it because that might just knock it off the ceiling and onto my head. That would not be pretty. So at first I attempted to spray it with hair spray, because that has killed spiders in the past. However, gravity was not on my side. By the end of the hair spray attempt, the spider was still chilling on the ceiling, and my face and arm were covered in said hair product.
Step 2 involved turning the lights on and off really fast in hopes that it would scare the spider and it would climb down the wall so I could smush it with a shoe. This just intrigued it and it ended up climbing onto the light and hanging out there.
This spider was not going to get the best of me...I am smarter than this spider. So, I got my vacuum cleaner out. I figured this would put me a safe distance from the spider and kill it at the same time. I turned on the vacuum cleaner and pointed at the spider. Well. The spider flew off of the light and...not...into the vacuum cleaner. I freaked out, dropped the vacuum and ran away. Upon re-entrance into the bathroom, I get to see that the vacuum is in pieces, my hairspray and new hand towel are in the toilet, and the spider is in hiding.
Awesome.
I put the vacuum back together, fished items out of the toilet, and went on a spider hunt again. It took a while, but I found him. He was in the bath tub, hiding under the shower curtain. He is now smushed and down the drain.
Victory is mine.
The next plight occurred during dinner time. I was baking my pizza and I noticed my oven smelled funny. It's a new oven and google said that that was normal, so I figured I wasn't poisoning myself. I couldn't open the windows though (like google said) because spiders would get in.
So I'm cooking my pizza. All of the sudden, this beeping starts. I look around my apartment because, what on earth could be beeping? My phone isn't beeping...my tv isn't beeping...the computer isn't beeping. Let's think...could it posisbly be that oven timer I set? Oh...so it is. After feeling like a moron, I go to take the pizza out of the oven and a different beeping starts...I turned off the timer! What could be beeping?!
Perhaps it's that smoke alarm right above the kitchen...
Yup. I set off the smoke alarm with a frozen pizza. I'm talented like that.
So I have to jump up and down under the smoke alarm, waving my arms and blowing the smoke away. It's at this point that I start to wonder if I'm on TV and all of this crap is happening for the amusement of others. It wouldn't surprise me.
The smoke alarm finally shuts up and I go to cut my pizza. I don't have very sharp knives, and the pizza crust is kinda tough. The knives are not working. So...I washed a pair of scissors and used them instead.
Now I have the lovely problem of figuring out how to store this pizza. I don't have tupperware. I didn't think of this when I bought the full sized pizza instead of the personal size.
We'll see how it goes. Something is telling me I'll be using paper towels and tape.
For those that don't know, I recently moved into a new apartment. I've never lived completely on my own, so I knew things would not go right during the first week or two here. However, I did not realize that the things that could go wrong would culminate into one hour of my life after days of calm living.
Today I woke up and was doing fine. I had planned to pack for the trip I'm going on in two days and I was going to go wander around for a bit. I wandered, got some coffee and a pizza to cook (I figured the pizza would feed me for a few more meals...healthy eating at its finest). I returned home and THOUGHT it was going to be a peaceful evening full of wedding shows, Toddlers and Tiaras, and Top Chef.
I was wrong.
I walked into my bathroom to grab my glasses and there was a spider on the ceiling of my shower. I ...do not like spiders. I am, to be honest, terrified of spiders. I generally run away from spiders. However, there is nobody here to kill the spiders but me. As it was on my ceiling, I could not actually reach it and I refused to throw something at it because that might just knock it off the ceiling and onto my head. That would not be pretty. So at first I attempted to spray it with hair spray, because that has killed spiders in the past. However, gravity was not on my side. By the end of the hair spray attempt, the spider was still chilling on the ceiling, and my face and arm were covered in said hair product.
Step 2 involved turning the lights on and off really fast in hopes that it would scare the spider and it would climb down the wall so I could smush it with a shoe. This just intrigued it and it ended up climbing onto the light and hanging out there.
This spider was not going to get the best of me...I am smarter than this spider. So, I got my vacuum cleaner out. I figured this would put me a safe distance from the spider and kill it at the same time. I turned on the vacuum cleaner and pointed at the spider. Well. The spider flew off of the light and...not...into the vacuum cleaner. I freaked out, dropped the vacuum and ran away. Upon re-entrance into the bathroom, I get to see that the vacuum is in pieces, my hairspray and new hand towel are in the toilet, and the spider is in hiding.
Awesome.
I put the vacuum back together, fished items out of the toilet, and went on a spider hunt again. It took a while, but I found him. He was in the bath tub, hiding under the shower curtain. He is now smushed and down the drain.
Victory is mine.
The next plight occurred during dinner time. I was baking my pizza and I noticed my oven smelled funny. It's a new oven and google said that that was normal, so I figured I wasn't poisoning myself. I couldn't open the windows though (like google said) because spiders would get in.
So I'm cooking my pizza. All of the sudden, this beeping starts. I look around my apartment because, what on earth could be beeping? My phone isn't beeping...my tv isn't beeping...the computer isn't beeping. Let's think...could it posisbly be that oven timer I set? Oh...so it is. After feeling like a moron, I go to take the pizza out of the oven and a different beeping starts...I turned off the timer! What could be beeping?!
Perhaps it's that smoke alarm right above the kitchen...
Yup. I set off the smoke alarm with a frozen pizza. I'm talented like that.
So I have to jump up and down under the smoke alarm, waving my arms and blowing the smoke away. It's at this point that I start to wonder if I'm on TV and all of this crap is happening for the amusement of others. It wouldn't surprise me.
The smoke alarm finally shuts up and I go to cut my pizza. I don't have very sharp knives, and the pizza crust is kinda tough. The knives are not working. So...I washed a pair of scissors and used them instead.
Now I have the lovely problem of figuring out how to store this pizza. I don't have tupperware. I didn't think of this when I bought the full sized pizza instead of the personal size.
We'll see how it goes. Something is telling me I'll be using paper towels and tape.
Fine. I guess I'll give in.
People asked me to do this. I think you all have way too much faith in me. We'll see how it goes.
You can all finally see just how deranged I am! <3
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