Red Wine and Casablanca

Just got back from Blockbuster. I rented Grey's Anatomy Season 2 and Casablanca, cause I've never seen it. I have the entire house to myself tonight, possibly until tomorrow night. The rest of the family is still in Dallas celebrating a long Mother's Day weekend. Alas, I had to fly back this morning, extremely hungover, just to work a crappy lunch shift. Not saying much about it, but a sirloin did slide off the tray, smashing into the table, loaded mashed potatoes and all.

Well, I'm gonna slip into some PJ's and pour myself a tall glass of Dr. Pepper. Perhaps after a few episodes of Grey's and a few glasses of wine, I'll come back to tell you about the event-filled weekend in the big D. Or, I might just go lounge in the new hot tub.

So Much For My Happy Ending

If they could give away a degree in procrastination, I would be first in my class. Tomorrow I have a final at 8am, yet here I am, not studying. I've already made a Whataburger trip, deep conditioned my hair, looked into airline tickets to Dallas this weekend, and watched The Breakup.

About that last one... I have a bone to pick with the writers of that movie. When I watch a chick flick/romantic comedy, I better get a freakin' happy ending. The way I see it, if my love life ain't so grand, then I damn well better get to see a story about people who can make it through 2 hours of trials and tribulations and get back together. Damn, is that too much to ask?

On a good note, it looks as though I will be able to have someone pick up my Friday and Saturday shifts so I can meet the family in Dallas for a fun filled weekend of BBQ, margaritas, and soccer games. AND, I finally will get to meet my niece, Mikayla. Ahh I'm super excited about that. I thought I'd never be an aunt. Plus, I got the go ahead for an airline ticket because honestly, it's either 200 bucks for that or 6 hours of driving plus a crapload of gas money.

Well, I better use the 4 hours I have left to cram Western Civilization into my already summer driven mind. Or, I could just play with my pretty new red phone I bought the other day. (My other one was nice and ghetto with blue electrical tape holding it together).

What I Love About Sunday

Sometimes I'm reminded full force why I love Sundays. I know, you usually hear me complaining about the cheap people that I wait on during the Sunday lunch rush. As one fellow waitress put it, "those people who you want to ask which church they go to, so you can make sure you never go there." Rude, upper middle class people who seem to think they have a free pass all Sunday just for the one hour they gave to God. Crap, I got off track. There are things I like about Sunday, I swear.

1. My manager always deems Sunday as his "food day". He feeds us hungry kids around 4, the end of the lunch shift and beginning of dinner. Today it was frito pie. Mmmm. Other weeks we filled our tummies with things such as hotdogs (to celebrate the beginning of baseball season), sundaes ("because it's Sunday"), and lasagna from Olive Garden.

2. When we sing "happy birthday" in church. It's pretty corny, and I would never stand up there when my day comes around, but it's like a whole family singing together.

3. Some lucky Sundays when I work dinner, I go to church in the morning, eat lunch, and PASS OUT. For hours. There's something in the air above the pews that induces sleep like no other. Plus, there's nothing a Sunday afternoon nap can't cure.

4. Knowing I have one more day of the weekend than everyone else, for my classes are only Tuesday/Thursday.

5. Going straight for the Target ads in the newspaper. Then, the colored comics.

6. Lifetime shows Grey's Anatomy re-runs late Sunday night. I've seen them all. But that doesn't stop me from seeing them again. I might've missed something important.

7. It's almost like a clean slate. A new week to possibly start that exercise plan, or to make it to class everyday. But then again, there's always next week...

Some Interesting Folks We Have Here...

I love my job. I'm just going to throw that out there. I get to spend Saturday nights with families, weekday lunches with old people, and I've been privy to a few first dates. Oh, and then there's the people I work with. That's one weird bunch of people....

First, there's the guy that the hostesses and I call 4o year old virgin. He's older than us, nerdy, and we don't like him. Just last Sunday night, I was cleaning my tables and completing my sidework when someone tells me that I have a slit in my Margarita Madness t-shirt, right over my boob. Great. I laugh, and tell my manager who promptly gets me a new shirt. But Mr. I Wear A Sweatband Under My Watch tells me, "Oh ya, I saw that over two hours ago." Then smirks and says, "You know that red, lace thing you got goin' on under that? I saw it." I turned horrified to my manager, "My bra! He's describing my BRA!" This guy and I did not hit it off well, and I don't see us getting along in the forseeable future.

Then we have my boyfriend. Only he's my boyfriend in my head. To no one else. And certainly not him. He's new, cute, and he used to be a librarian. Ya, I like the nerds. Plus, when I drop my pen on the floor, he picks it up for me. God, I'm easy.

Jerry is my work dad. We share peanut M&M's and he reprimands me when I cuss. I swear he can hear me a mile away say "shit". He reminds me to stay in college so I don't "become like him". But honestly, he is the sweetest, smartest old man ever. I could learn a thing or two from him.

Oh man, then there's fatboy. He's so lazy and he walks slow. The only time he walks fast is when he's right in my path. Fatboy always knocks into me and doesn't say he's sorry. Plus, him not taking a table yesterday put me way in the weeds. (Waiter talk for super busy).

Too tired to write about the rest of the characters. Perhaps another day.

Saturday Morning Festivities

"Hold it down on the ground, Lizzy."
"I'm trying! But I don't want to be bit by anything..."
We measured the patio this morning for a hot tub. I was being annoying because I had been woken up early, and it's Saturday. I'm not even scared of bugs. Horrid excuse. But my mind was definitely elsewhere. While my mom was dreaming of summer evenings spent lounging in the mammoth hot tub with 26 jets, I was calculating the cost of car insurance, rent, groceries, and tuition. Ah crap, books too. Last night at work, I talked with some friends about moving out of my house. I've already looked at apartments, and I can definitely afford rent. My parents still pay my car insurance, and every time my mom threatens to kick me out, she talks about how expensive it would be for me to pay it. But after talking with my coworkers, sounds like I can find some pretty cheap insurance. I haven't gotten in any wrecks, minus the rear-ending from the 15 passenger van. Although, I know being under 25 does affect it. Hmm... I'll have to look more into it. But by my 21st birthday, I want to be out of here. That's less than 3 months.

Oh man, my stomach's growling. I gotta track down some lunch and perhaps shower. I think I still reek of chips and salsa from work last night.

Welcome Back, Tutor Boy...

David Gray songs, white Tahoes, physics books, Michigan, boys with guitars, all night conversations over cups of coffee, the History Channel at 4am.

All those reasons listed above are the reason I am celebrating Cinco de Mayo one day early. What brings this drinkfest, one day ahead of schedule? What else. A boy. That boy with the oh so cute northern accent. We'll call him "Tutor Boy" for that's what he was before I dated him...

Geez was last night a rough night of sleep. Could I have been hounded anymore in my dreams? Seriously, I met up with two ex-boyfriend's mothers, PLUS I had my best friend and Tutor Boy making out. Good God. Which brings me to this quote, by John Mayer. Except, make it into a girl's perspective, "Even if you think the flame has died, there's at least one lyric that'll hit that last hot spot, and then you'll find yourself as fucked as you were the day you lied and said you never wanted to see her again."

So, when I woke, I was brought back to all the things that had occurred in the past few months. Ya, ya. I'm only 20. Blah blah blah. I've heard it. But, if you're older than me, you've most likely been here, and if you're younger than me, you'll be here. For the first time ever in my life, I fell in love. I dated a few guys before, but this was that head over heels, talk about when we're old and gray type of thing. That was, until I had to come back here to "sort it out" with my parents.

I remember when we broke up, after a day of not talking to eachother, he wanted to go back to being best friends and talking all night on the phone. Of course I stupidly went along with it. I was so pissed when he talked about what he was doing, like eating or playing video games. I was sitting alone in my apartment (Christmas break in a college town), not able to eat or sleep, and he was EATING?

When I came back here, he and my friends had no idea what was going on with my mom. She didn't like him, that he knew. But it wasn't until one day when she left the normal voicemail on his phone, "Hi, this is Mrs. _____, I'm having trouble with Elizabeth, please call me back. Thank you!" But that one time, she forgot to hang up the phone. What he heard after that, he won't tell me. Except a lot of screaming on her part. And horrible names. That night, we talked online secretly (I wasn't allowed to talk to him for some reason). He had called my friends and asked them if they knew what was going on. He was worried for my safety. We would talk for hours about how I could get out of here. He told me that he would no longer be here for me to "play make believe". It was nice, the first time I didn't have to pretend with someone that everything was great here. Nothing came of it. My mom called him one too many times. We are no longer in contact, on mutual agreement. But everytime I see him in a dream, it reminds me that he was the only one to ever hear what goes on behind these closed doors.

Smells Like Summer

It's officially summer. Summer as Blue Bell ice cream and tank tops. Even though finals aren't over until next Tuesday, it's summer. Last night as a Texas sized storm rolled in, I turned off every electronic device in my room, except of course my clock. The sounds of thunder and rain pelting my window were the only things lulling me to sleep. No hum of the computer, turtle light, or muted Fox News on the television. Just me, some May showers, and well, my snoring dog. Eh, you can't have everything. It got me thinking about the signs that summer is finally upon us.
- Getting in your car, and waiting for the AC to catch up.
- Burning up in jeans.
- The sun burning your skin through the window while driving.
- Lightning bugs.
- Looking at that fountain, and thinking, "I would so jump in there."
- Laying out by the pool and drinking beer all day.
- The smell of freshly cut grass.
- The fact that anything over a swim suit is considered an outfit.
- Cherry limeade slushes.
- Having to shave your legs everyday, and not really being all too put out.
- Sweet tea and BBQ on the porch.
- Freckles coming back full force.
- Remembering a time when school in the summer was a punishment, not necessary.
- Bright toe-nail polish.
- Planning vacations that will never be.
- 2 month flings.

Feel free to add your own summer thoughts! =)

Anorexic, But Not So Much

When I moved back home 4 months ago, I was a normal 20 year old college kid. I'd eaten one too many taquitos at Whataburger and it showed. I was finally comfortable with my body the way it was. I had curves in the right places, and I wasn't overweight. After just one month of living with my parents, I had lost 17 pounds, dropping down to a mere 90 pounds. People at work started making anorexic jokes, then my friends up in College Station saw me and decided something had to be done. It's not that I didn't want to gain weight or eat, it's just that I had no appetite whatsoever. If I did try to eat, I couldn't keep it down. I'll never forget asking my ex-boyfriend if he had some bread and sandwich meat for me to eat at 2am.
"You didn't eat dinner? Wow, you must be starving."
"No, I'm not hungry at all. But I have to eat."
I didn't tell him that I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten a full meal. After that weekend, I told myself that I would never let that happen to me again. So far, I've gained 8lbs of it back. I noticed that the combination of no sleep and meager food affected me greatly. My performance at work slid downhill quickly. I couldn't concentrate in school, and I could barely carry trays full of food. I was tired all the time, and which escalated into more arguments with my mom about my laziness.
I would look on the internet for some sort of help to get for this problem. But every anorexic website I looked at had to do with the psychological problem that the person did not want to gain weight. That wasn't my problem. I finally figured out that my appetite came back full force whenever I was at work, away from home. So the cooks helped me out and started sneaking me "Scooby snacks". When I get out of here, I hope to work with people having the same problem. Parental issues can be a huge impact on someone's life, and I think there should be more out there on it.

I have the house to myself for a few more hours, so I'm gonna catch a nap and maybe make myself a ham and cheese croissant. Catch ya later.

It's Just a Job

(Snapping of fingers) "Miss! MISS! Excuse me, MISS!"
This is usually how I am summoned by a table that is not my own. I politely turn around, squelching any retorts that instantly come to mind. What follows is something along the lines of "Where is our food? We've been waiting forty five minutes for our meal."
First of all, I am not your waitress. I have no idea where your food is, because quite frankly, I get paid $2.13 an hour to watch my four table section. And that, thank God, does not include your table. Second, you most likely have not been here longer than twenty minutes waiting for your food. You see, we have a secret weapon in the back. Along with your order, there is a timer telling us little minded waiters how long it has been, to the second, since we keyed in your order.

I'm a firm believer in the fact that a person's true character shines through the way they treat people in the customer service industry. I've had tables that blurt out their drink orders before I can get my name out, refuse to even look me in the eye, and one disturbing lady who dropped the f-bomb on me after her appetizer took a few extra minutes one Sunday afternoon. What these low-lifes don't realize is that many of us are just using this job as a means to an end. We are working our way through college so that someday we can have a better life than sweeping up cracker crumbs. Hell, I might even be your boss. Ha, wouldn't that be some karma. Show us a little respect, and it will go a long way. For example, when a table remembers my name, I am instantly gratified. So thank you to those who listen to me, treat me as their equal rather than their servant, and of course, those who tip well.

Now, I'm going to hop in my bed and watch my DVR'd Dawson's Creek. =)

Hey Y'all...

As I begin typing my first post, my head stays turned towards the door of my room. Even though it is midnight, my mom is dozing on the couch, and I fear she will wake to find me spilling my secrets. At a time when many are crawling under their down comforters, I am prepping myself for a night of pointless "real conversations". Every night is the same. A game of hide and seek for adults. After six to eight hours straight of waitressing on my feet, I wait anxiously in my room until my dad has gone to sleep, and she decides it is safe to pursue me. She'll want to talk and blackmail me for deeds done in months past. I usually end up hiding out in the bathroom, sleeping with my cotton robe as a blanket for few minutes until she threatens to unscrew the doorknob. She doesn't harm me physically usually, but her words are enough to leave bruises that will take years to heal. I am weary. So sick of being called a "selfish, conniving bitch". I don't even want to have anything to do with my own mom anymore, and that breaks my heart.

Shit. She's up. The night begins...