Monday, May 4, 2015

A Day In The Life Of....My Sundays

8:00 am: I wake up get a glass of water and talk to man-pants for a while. I ask him to flip on Friends because it is my go to fall asleep show these days. I wish I didn't have to have a lot of noise to sleep. 

11:00 am: I stop lucid dreaming and am finally just awake. Does anyone else lucid dream? Mine are always boring and about mundane things. I wish that wasn't true. I guess the point is that I can change that? Mine don't really work that way. I am just perfectly aware I am sleeping and can change the dreams direction, but not overall situation. Anyway....

12:00 pm: I make myself some lunch and crawl back into bed and eat it while watching Friends.

1:00 pm: Somewhere around here I dozed back off. Paul was being super cuddly and I was literally spooning him while he licked my cheek. Apparently sand paper lulls me to sleep. Along with noise. I'm a strange one.

2:15 pm: Get in the shower, put on work uniform, let out the dog, blah blah blah.

3:00 pm: Arrive at work. I am immediately informed that all of our reservations fall between 3:30 pm and 4:00 pm. The entire line has to be gone by 3:00 because they all work another job at 4:00 pm. Two of them (normally 5 is considered the BARE MINIMUM) can stay indefinitely. By 4:00 pm, I need to have calamari portioned, mashed potatoes made, a line check done (which takes a seasoned sous chef an hour, it takes me much longer), bread veal marsala, cook off meatballs and make 4 trays of lasagna. By myself. Because the other two sous chefs on the clock have to be on the line.

4:30 pm: full rail of tickets and THREE line cooks are 15 minutes late. I learn that the opening sous hasn't done any of the orders yet that all have to be in by 5, so he is off the line and out of commission. I start calling the guys who aren't there, all go straight to voice mail.

5:00 pm: We basically figure out that three of the people on the schedule tonight are not coming in. I am on pantry solo (it was my first day of training on the station, so, yeah) and the other closing sous is working pasta. 

I HAVE BLOCKED EVERYTHING BETWEEN 5 & 9. Let's just call it a very brutal four hours of torture.

9:00 pm: I start closing the station, based on how most restaurants close. Nobody seems to care one way or another. Normally inventory would be started by now. Nope. On a side note: solo with nothing but a book of specs for the station, I ran it and not once was a ticket waiting on something from me. I will go ahead and pat myself on the back after somebody finds me SEVEN MILLION Xanax to calm me down.

9:05 pm: Management mass exodus with absolutely no "are you guys going to be ok?" sentiment of any kind. Awesome. I feel the love.

9:30 pm: AGM orders me random food. I have a vague recollection of eating it while frantically flipping pans and wrapping everything in plastic.

10:00 pm: Inventory begins. This is my new Sunday gig. Inventory. Yay! I kind of go off on how poorly tonight went and how every single thing that I had on my plate couldn't be accomplished because of the am sous chef and crappy time management of the entire day staff.

11:00 pm: Dishwasher starts freaking out about dumpsters. We walk out back to discover the ASS HOLE who stocked the bar today put all of the boxes in the dumpster without breaking them down. Have to remove all the boxes from the dumpster and break them down and then put them back in. Still isn't room for all of the trash. 

12:00 am: My fellow sous has taken like 6 smoke breaks and I am ready to kill him. AGM and sous are also having a fart contest I am sick of being a victim of. 

1:30 am: AGM finishes counting his inventory and hogs the computer to enter it. We are at a standstill. I start absently rambling about nothing because I might be delirious. 

2:30 am: WE ARE DONE. Almost. Let's spend 25 minutes looking at the report that we are going to do NOTHING to fix or change. Hi, tomorrow. There is time for that then.

3:00 am: I clock out. FINALLY I clock out. Fellow sous has a million things still to do and I frankly don't feel bad because he was dragging ass all night and slowing me down. I worked 58 hours this week.

4:00 am: Man-pants wakes up to get water and is sick as fuck. We had been texting on and off and I thought his declaration of having the plague of death was him just being a baby. Nope. Sick as fuck.

4:45 am: Short Dog projectile vomits chunks all over the very cream colored carpet in our hallway. I spend an hour trying to get it out. It just now looks like we are the most disgusting people ever. 

5:00 am: Some fucking punk kid decides it will be funny to throw mulch at the front door (the room I am sitting in is on the street and therefore it is clear that a light is on from the street.) I watched him through the peep hole for a while to make sure he was just a stupid kid and then proceeded to old man "get off my damn lawn" him.

5:45 am: I decide to write a blog post about the terribly shit day I had because, well, I am wide awake and the entire free world is sound asleep and I am bored. 


Tomorrow is one of my two days off and if last week is similar at all, I will sleep most of the day. And I have to be at work at 8 am on Tuesday. 

This job might kill me. On a positive note, I watched the sunrise over the city last week. Maybe that will be my Monday morning moment of zen. Watching the sun rise while sipping on some sleepy time tea heavy on the bourbon and watching Friends until I fall into a fitful sleep wherein I incorporate their shenanigans into my dreams and wake up confused. At 3pm. 

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Tu eres mi amigo?

There is one English speaking person on staff at my restaurant that is not a manager in the kitchen. One. His name is Shaggy (obviously a nickname) and no better nickname has ever been applied. If he asked me about Scooby Snacks, it wouldn't even phase me. Not even a little.

I took 5 years of Spanish a very long time ago. I can barely speak it, but can read and understand it fairly well. As long as it falls into the generic public school Spanish that I took. When the amigos asked me if I spoke Spanish, I said no. Because, honestly, I didn't want to look stupid. Which is STUPID. But, spur of the moment's already going to be hard for me and I didn't want to add in fucking up their native language. 

Ugh. Even with my  limited knowledge, the language barrier is terrible. And I just feel like everyone is annoyed with me all of the time. I don't know if that is true. I just feel like they all think I am this giant idiot who can't speak Spanish and can't keep up with them. 

The latter part is only true because every time I ask a question or ask where something is, I just get a blank stare and then a made up answer that makes no sense so I just figure it out on my own. 

I am so ready to be done with training. The person who was training me today literally could not even converse with me. I asked him how long he worked with the company and he said "Si, si. Es bien." Meaning, "yes, yes. It's good." part sucks. And, honestly, when left alone with the various Spanish Pandora stations, I want to impale myself on something very, very sharp. 

Do you know what is worse than talk radio? Talk radio in a language you don't speak. FOR 12 HOURS STRAIGHT. I so far have understood one story and all I know is that it was about Jennifer Lopez. 

Tomorrow I actually start training on the line and will have someone who speaks English there the entire time. IT WILL BE AMAZING. 

A part of me feels bad that I am so miserable because it's not their fault. A part of me wants to scream "YOU ARE IN AMERICA, LEARN FUCKING ENGLISH," but I am not that person. Maybe I am a little bit that person because I just typed that. But deep down, not really.

So, if anyone has access to Rosetta Stone and wants to share, I will not turn you down. 

Being the minority kind of sucks. Is it weird for a very white girl to say that? It totally is. 

I have dealt with sexism plenty, I can put some dudes in their place in a second. I just have to learn how to do that in Spanish. And fast. Or I am going to have exactly zero people that respect me there and that is just not ok with me.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Just hit the inhaler again. I might die. On a side note, 10 random things

  1. I miss the late night noises. I don't necessarily miss working nights, but I also don't mind it. My destiny is never to be a Monday through Friday 9am - 5pm girl. I just hate how much turmoil it causes with family and friends. And not seeing man-pants for days on ends. I won't see him again until he gets off work Monday. 
  2. I have been having almost asthma attacks for the past three nights. I contributed it to the insane amount of olives at my new job (it has happened every shift I have worked there and also eaten food.) But today I was careful. And it was the worst one yet. Man-pants meticulously cleaned the house, thinking it was just that we hadn't been super clean lately and I am allergic to both our pets. I hit a 10 year old inhaler about 10 times and I could finally breathe. Yes, yes, I know. That is so dangerous. I also took about 5 times the recommended dose of antihistamines. I'm not good at following rules.
  3. I really bonded with the AGM at the new job today. We have spent 43 hours in 4 days chained to each other and it turns out...he is that guy who tries to show off the things about himself he thinks are cool. Like, he never talks about his kid or his wife, but I have heard 7 MILLION things about his taste in crappy emo-rock music. He calls it metal. Psht. 
  4. I witnessed a man dragging a dummy dressed in a wedding dress down one of the busiest streets downtown. I thought it was a human and screamed. He was dragging her by her hair. It was the weirdest thing I have seen this week. Give it time....downtown is always entertaining.
  5. I destroyed my hair dying it back to normal people hair colors. And today it looked like there was a tidal wave on top of my head. I straighten it (it isn't curly naturally since the treatment) and it stays straight for like 15 minutes and then it just sort of does whatever the fuck it wants. At least all of the little 21 year old hostesses got a huge kick out of my crazy ass hair. They are adorable. Like, shoot me in the face adorable. 
  6. DID YOU KNOW OTTERS RAPE BABY SEALS UNTIL THEY ARE DEAD AND TOO DECOMPOSED TO RAPE? I am sorry if I just ruined your day. But my dreams of a pet otter are over and I needed to share my pain. Also, dolphins gang rape. Yes, I read some article on the sexual habits of sea-life. It is the biggest mistake I have made to date.
  7. There is a woman at new job who is actually trying to play the "out bitch the new bitch" card. This may just be a women who work in restaurants thing. I don't know. I personally find this whole charade tiresome. I am just myself and generally earn respect. Sometimes I have to pull people aside and give the whole "just because I am not screaming at you does not mean I am a pushover" speech. I have witnessed (what I have now dubbed) the "I'm not your bitch, bitch" stand off between two women before. And it is HILARIOUS. And sad. Mostly because as a minority in the industry, we should support each other. But, whatever. I will just watch as everyone sees her game and sees me not playing it. Even if I lose respect for not playing. Don't care. Don't see strong women as a threat. 
  8. I really want to be tired enough to go to bed. I am destined to be up until 3am. Which is ok because I close tomorrow and won't even get off work until 1am. 
  9. My old apartment complex has sort of spiraled out of control. After I moved out, so did every tenant except one. This included the acting apartment manager. So, when the owner (we will call her the slumlord bitch who never returned my security deposit DESPITE me finding the next tenant and her renting it to him without ever entering the property) posted a for rent and I hid it several times a day. I will give slumlord bitch this...she should play hide and seek professionally because she always found it within a few hours and put it back out.  And, yes, yes I know. Take her to small claims court.
  10. The cat is trying to lay on the laptop. This is the first cat-like thing he has ever done. Well, he kneads things. And meows. And is scared of laser pointers. Hates toys. Loves having his belly rubbed. And has penis shaped markings on his forehead. So, you know, sounds about like my cat.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Hey...sorry, not sorry about the absence. Sometimes you just have to figure shit out.



Tap. Tap.

Anyone out there?

I got home from work tonight and I just felt like blogging.

It started with a post on facebook from another blogger about it being National Infertility Awareness Week. And I composed a really long comment on a blog I have never read before and thought....huh. I feel like writing.

I doubt anyone is reading anymore. And I suppose that is ok too.

My last post was very negative. And things continued to be negative for a very long time after that. To some extent, it still is.

At some point the elation of not being unhappy wears off and you sit in a tiny, shitty apartment with no money and S.W.A.T. making an appearance more than once in a year...isn't once too many...and you think, I can't do this. This isn't me. I have never lived like this. I can't do this.

And that statement is not entirely true either. I guess it was two equal reactions to one situation. There was the sheer happiness of feeling, well, free. Of finally being out of a relationship I honestly don't believe I should have ever been in from the start. We were never suited for each other. But we liked each other well enough. And we got along for a while. And we made each other less lonely. But it wasn't happiness and it was stifling.

Getting away from that was extremely freeing. So, I was just so thrilled with EVERYTHING that was different and everything that allowed me to be me.

Then the reality of none of my friends and family ever wanting to come visit me because they were scared hit. And instead of sticking up for the neighborhood I love, I started to hate it. I started to get down on myself for being 33 fucking years old and not doing better, not being better.

Both of these feelings were wrong for me. Neither exactly fit me, despite how much I wanted them to.

And during all of this I was trying to figure out a very intense, very fast moving relationship with the only person I can honestly say knows everything about me.

So, yeah.

We got a new apartment just down the street. It's much nicer and not embarrassing, despite being tiny, with the promise that we were going to use this time (OUR RENT IS ONLY $485) to save up a lot of money and to DO things. And put ourselves in a position to actually have some place we are proud of in the neighborhood we love.

I got a new job. A big girl job. Like, for real this time. It is for a fine dining restaurant chain that has restaurants in 33 states and is projected to make $500 million dollars this year. Just to give you an idea of how much money they are paying me....I am eligible for $5000/year in bonuses.

My thirties taught me something very important. I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHO I AM. And for a while I was embarrassed about who I was. I was embarrassed and I don't know why.

I had to dye my hair back to "natural" colors for this job. I have to wear sleeves to cover my tattoos. I will never make friends with any of the people I work with because they aren't the kind of people I want as friends. And you know what, that is ok. I have a job to do and I am fine showing up and just doing it. There are multiple reasons for of them being...WORKING EXPO ON THAT LINE DURING A RUSH WILL MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SUCH A BAD ASS. Seriously. I watch the chefs do it now and am like, fucking shit. That is going to be me. I am going to control that kitchen like a fucking violin. It gives me this insane high I can't explain to even imagine doing that.

Right now I am doing front of house and busing tables and feel like an idiot. But, you know, I will get there.

Somebody asked they make you feel bad about your tattoos? And your purple hair? And the neighborhood you choose to live in?

Yeah. They kind of do. Which makes me all that much more motivated to prove them wrong. To prove that I am just as good as them, if not better, at being a chef.

I'm sick of being made to feel like I am not as good as someone else because my lifestyle choice is not the same as theirs.

My body will be covered in tattoos one day. My hair would be purple again if I could. I will always live in my little hood that loves and embraces me because, frankly, the diversity of people I meet on a day to day basis make me happy. The thought of living in the suburbs makes me cringe. I am not saying there isn't some level of diversity, but it is generally the same income level with similar values and similar lifestyles. I meet conservative republicans covered in tattoos and talk politics with them. I meet former meth addicts that have turned their life around and own their own home and have a great job and are often buying me drinks at the bar. I meet people like me, who just didn't know where they fit in.

And somehow we all fit in here. In this fucked up kind of crime ridden neighborhood. And they all love me for exactly who I am.

I just have to teach myself to feel the same. Because I am awesome and bad ass and can do anything I set my mind to.

It just took me 5 months to figure that out. Or maybe 33 years. But it's true. Insecurities are one thing, but doubting my entire identity is another. And I refuse to do it again.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

The Worst Weekend of My Life (thus far)

This all feels so unreal. The past 5 days have been some of the worst of my life. 

This past Thursday, man-pants showed up to work to find a sign that said "no checks, sorry!" 

Sunday, it was announced that his restaurant was sold and he no longer had a job. 

Monday, he got offered a job at another restaurant in the company for $1.50/hour paycut and a demotion. 

He was promised pay tomorrow and is now getting text messages stating that there is no money to pay them. 

He owes me $450 (which is irrelevant except to state how in the hole he is. I don't care about the money.)

I do not have enough money to pay the remainder of our bills. Between a recently sick cat and the move, we are tapped. 

There is potential that it will be another 3 weeks before he gets paid. 

The owner of his restaurant (different than the owner of mine) was in Nashville on vacation SPENDING THE MONEY THAT WAS NEEDED TO PAY THE STAFF.

I watched man-pants have a panic attack. I have watched his coworkers devastated. I have watched everyone involved with this restaurant have their entire lives turned upside down. 

His 5 month pregnant shift lead was borrowing $20 for gas because she was broke.

I am posting this here not because I need anyone to feel sorry for me, but because I can't vent on social media for fear of losing my job. Everyone in my life is surely sick of hearing me scream about how evil this woman is and how she is destroying lives with a smile on her face. 


She hasn't even had the backbone to talk to any of the staff in person, she is forcing the front of house manager to relay all the news. 

I am very fortunate that my family has enough money to help me get through this. VERY FORTUNATE. But, this is how people end up homeless. This is how lives are ruined. 

I have, for the first time, encountered someone who I believe to be truly evil. Someone who has this city fooled, thinking she is a good samaritan and selfless person. She is a local celebrity and loved by everyone (myself included until I started working for this company.)

I am watching man-pants go through all of this, knowing he hates that he has no money and I am supporting him. Knowing that he cared about that place and busted his ass for it makes me sick. 

This whole thing makes me absolutely furiously sick. 

As soon as man-pants finds another job and is on his feet again, my first order of business is doing the same. 

If you know me in person, stop giving this woman your money. I don't care how much you love the food. (You can still come see me at work because she isn't affiliated with my location.) 

And send happy thoughts our way. Mostly happy lottery thoughts. We really need it.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Moving on

I can't even begin to explain how out of control the dishonesty has escalated at work. I am debating between telling my owner, who will surely fire me or just finding a new job and giving one hell of an exit interview. So many people I trusted and considered friends have betrayed me. I feel like a everything is going to be blamed on me. When I have done literally nothing. I have never encountered this level of deceit and dishonesty before. I have never met such terrible people in my life. 

I feel like I am just naive and trust people I shouldn't. I feel like I should watch my back constantly. I have never been easy to trust, but am I now doing it too easily? Am I just assuming people are honest when they are actually complete fucking dicks? 

My world feels a little upside down. 

I am hurt 

I am pissed

I am vengeful

I want to burn the restaurant to the ground and cartoon character style laugh maniacally over the ashes. 

Not really. 

I spent some time with a staff member tonight who told me soooo much. She is definitely been a good friend through all of this and put the final nail in the coffin on some things I suspected. 

I need out. 

It's not a safe environment for me anymore. 

I put these people, this company on a pedestal for so many years. Have frequented their restaurants for a decade. 

It's been a really long, hard, painful fall from the top. 

Friday, September 5, 2014

Bourbon on the rocks...with a lime please

Things aren't great right now. Not in a tangible way either. I can't say, well, this one thing is not going well. It's just a series of a lot of things that aren't going as expected. A lot of SURPRISE! this is not happening the way you expected kind of things. I find myself frustrated a lot. I find myself angry and upset a lot. This is not normal for me. It is not the way I want things to go.

I can't go into a whole lot of detail about the work stuff, but there is a possible law suit and a completely unrelated possibility that I could be fired for bringing it to the attention of management that one of their managers (not me, of course) is stealing.

Just mother fucking ugh.

Plus we are maybe moving, we don't know, because people are flaky. And man-pants is maybe getting a new job, we don't know because nobody ever knows with that shit.

And my dog will only poop for me.

And the cat won't stop meowing at all hours of the night.


I hate find that smell.

I said goodbye to a friend of 15 years two days ago. I have talked about him, but never gave him a name here. It doesn't matter who he is, he became toxic in my life and I refuse to allow someone like that to continue being in my life.

I want positivity and happiness and GOOD. And right now the universe is throwing me a bunch of negative and bad.

Sometimes it gets so overwhelming, I have to walk to my car and just take some deep breaths. And remind myself that I am happy and healthy and good. 

Sometimes life hands you lemons...and I say fuck that, I want limes and make a mother fucking cocktail.