All work and no play make Erratic a very happy girl

Wow. It has been over a month since I posted. You guys, my bad. That's all I've got. My bad. But if it makes anyone feel any better, it's because I have been busy living life and doing things and overall just positive shit.

So, new job. New job is mother fucking amazing. Not only do they love me, I love them. The restaurant has been opened for about 10 years and has literally never had a kitchen manager. So, I have my work cut out for me, but I love that. I love that I get to put all the policies and procedures in place and fix this shit. I really, really love this job. I feel needed and wanted. I am having a staff meeting a week from today that is going to be a turning point. A lot of people are going to quit and I am OK with that. I will make it work. 

One of my benefits is a free shift drink every shift I work. Unless my boss is there, then it is a free cab ride home because he gets me drunk as fuck. For free. Kind of counterproductive. But, whatever. So, last night I sat after work and drank with one of the servers and a bunch of kitchen staff from a steak house that is around the corner. She basically told me that nobody had any faith in me until they met me and now everyone loves me. And they have total faith that I can fix everything that is wrong. It felt really, really good. Because, I am good at what I do. I may not be the most confident person on earth, but dammit, I am good at what I do.

I am, however, working ALL. THE. TIME. I have been working all night tonight when I realized I needed to post something here. When I'm not there, I am still working on catching up a decade of paperwork and shit that has just been neglected. I am probably making $3 an hour at this point. Thankfully my gay neighbor family helps take care of the Short Dog. Speaking of...

The Short Dog has fleas. Again. I finally just bombed my apartment thinking that maybe I moved into a infestation of some kind. There is no other explanation. He has never had fleas. My neighbor has a very poorly taken care of dog, so I am thinking they are coming from his apartment? I don't know. I am over mother fucking fleas. This poor dog has been through hell these past few months. I just want him to be better!

So that is what's up with me. Work, work, more work and fleas. How are all of you? I miss being here. I promise to return soon.

Liquor in glass bottles is for rich people.

I have said so many bad things, I want to tell you about all of the good. Because I am doing well and I feel like if you read this blog, you probably think that I am in a partially condemned building crying. That is only half true. I'm not crying.

Last night Earl called and asked if I wanted to hang out. So, we hit up happy hour at the local restaurant we can only afford to drink at during happy hour, then headed to the gay bar for Monday night Karaoke. I told no one where I was going. Just hanging out with Earl. By the end of the night, every single friend I have in the neighborhood, and a few from other neighborhoods, had wandered in and joined our table. What started as two of us, ended with about 12 friends laughing and hugging and having a good time. 

If I get stuck at work, I simply have to sound the alarm and there are 6 different people willing to let out the dog.

When I get home from work, or even on my day off and just need to see a friendly face, I simply sit on the stoop with a beer and wait. Someone will walk by and sit with me. 

One of the guys on the street is getting evicted for stupid reasons that you all don't care about. We rallied around him and he moved in with another friend, I rented a UHaul (I am the only one on the block with a drivers license) and helped him move.

I drive people to the laundromat and the grocery store. They make me dinner when I am too broke or too lazy to make it myself. 

All of these people have lived in this neighborhood for 15 years and are a big, mismatched family. And they adopted me. 

Last night at the bar, my next door neighbor looked at me and said, "I hope that when you get back on your feet and can afford a better apartment, you will stay in the neighborhood. Because you are one of us now." I almost cried. I can't tell you what that feels like. To just know someone is always there. Sure, I know my friends are there for me. Absolutely. But they all have lives. And work normal hours. And live far away. This is easy. We are all right here, supporting one another. 

Towards the end of my relationship with the boy, I got very lonely. It is hard to explain feeling lonely with someone in the next room, but it is the worst kind of lonely. And I was terrified to be alone again when I was already in kind of a bad place. But our little family is all single and all get lonely. They understand when I knock on the door and say I just need a hug. I usually get a hug and a drink and sometimes even dinner. And when they show up on my door step and just need a hug, I happily let them in, hand them a beer and give them a hug.

And now for the really, really great news. I got a new job. With FREE benefits. You read that correctly. I pay nothing for medical, dental and eye coverage. And it pays me more than I am making now. And it's salary. And it's my own kitchen. AND I GET TWO WEEKS PAID VACATION. It is sort of my dream job. Seriously. I have been wanting to work for this restaurant group since before culinary school. No, it's not a chain. Just a bunch of locally owned places under one umbrella.

So. Good things are happening. I have found myself a little family in the hood and a job that means I can afford to actually do this. I am burning all the Ramen and buying a bottle of bourbon that doesn't come in a plastic jug.

Positivity

I had some friends come over last night and they were the first to officially see my tiny shit hole apartment. I expected very poor reactions. I expected them to gasp in horror then run screaming back to their gorgeous houses in the suburbs. They didn't. They were supportive and awesome and said the sweetest kindest things that I didn't even know I needed to hear. Because here is the thing about being single at 32...it kind of sucks. And I know I am not the only person that has done this and I know that other people have found the one later in life. 

But I want to be single. I don't want to find anyone for a long time. I probably will not have children. At least of my own. The next person I do date will probably be divorced. Or have children of their own. Or be younger than me. I sit and think about these things with zero emotion because I have no emotion to give them. 

People say things, like, "I could never live somewhere without a washer and dryer." or "God, the second floor? All those stairs would kill me." or "You have to walk the dog EVERY TIME he has to go outside. Ugh. I could never do that." or "If I were you, I would have looked harder for an apartment that was nicer and allowed you to keep the dog."

Guess what...this is my reality. Mine. These are my choices. And dwelling on all the negative and all the bad puts me in a place I can't afford to be in. Because then I don't get out of bed and walk the dog. I don't go to the laundromat to clean my clothes. I don't hand wash my dishes. I lie on the couch and feel sorry for myself. 

I find myself saying this phrase all of the time. This is my reality. It's hard and messy and sometimes super shitty. But, it's how I live now. It's who I am now. I am safe. I am happy. But I am doing this. I am living this life and I can't dwell in a negative headspace and fall into a hole I'm not sure I could pull myself out of.

So many hipsters...

My life has been a whirlwind of "are you ok?" lately. And there is no easy answer to that question.

Yes, I am physically fine. Emotionally I am better than I thought I would be.

However, everything that could possibly go wrong has gone wrong and I am somehow still surviving.

Two days before I officially moved out (I was staying at a friends) I had to commit my friend to the psych ward at Ohio State. He was depressed, drunk and suicidal. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I spent 12 hours in the emergency room watching him sober up, try to escape (they immediately put him on a 72 hour hold, so he couldn't leave), get sedated, cry, laugh, cry some more. If you have never seen someone hit rock bottom, count yourself lucky. It is the hardest thing I have ever watched. And it changed me. It changed how I view alcohol and depression. He is going through a divorce, moving from a house to a tiny shit hole apartment. Our lives are mirroring each other right now and I will fully admit that I have drowned my sadness in alcohol quite a few times since this all happened. I am now hyper aware of how many beers I drank, how many shots I did at the bar, how many glasses of wine. It is not out of the realm of possibility that my life could have headed down a similar path.

Then I moved. And am still surrounded by boxes because I have a house amount of shit and a one bedroom apartment. That is a complete shit hole. I am basically renting from slum lords who can't even paint the place. The door at the top of the stairs was kicked in and the dead bolt doesn't work. Let's just say my father is less than thrilled with my new digs.

But I'm on a busy street with restaurants and bars and constant traffic. I feel very safe. I know every single neighbor and we sit out on the front stoop at night and drink beers and laugh at the hipsters. Because, yes, I now live in that neighborhood that isn't cool yet. So, the hipsters are EVERYWHERE. ON UNICYCLES. WITH IRONIC BEARDS.

Last Friday, the general manager (the friend who asked me to come work down there) unexpectedly quit. And my nemesis took over. I expressed to the owner repeatedly that I would not work for him and he made me promise to give him time. My old job called today and offered me a job. Just a line cook position, but it is 3 blocks away. And the little cafe on the corner is hiring part time day help, so I may be making some more changes. Because, you know, fuck it. Change everything at once.

I have a very different attitude. I have done a lot of soul searching, got back into old habits of being single. Allowing myself to feel what I need to feel, do what I need to do. There is no longer guilt for lying in bed all day because I am just sad and need to lie in bed all day. I spend a lot of time outside walking Short Dog. Obviously, my second story shit hole doesn't have a yard. But I need to get out and see people. Just say hi to someone on the sidewalk. The last time I lived alone, I was in the suburbs and never left the house. It got dark there for a while and after seeing what my friend is going through, I know I can't let myself get there. I can't let myself wallow in my own misery. So, when I feel sad and overwhelmed, I leash him up and just wander around. The neighborhood is full of old, historic homes so there is never a lack of scenery. And it's fun to explore a new neighborhood.

I am listening to happy music, watching happy movies and concentrating on being happy. It is so easy for me to fall down that emo trap and to feel sorry for myself and I refuse to do it. This is my reality right now. I can choose to live it and love it or I can choose to be miserable. I choose love. I choose happy. Sitting and dwelling on what I lost and what everyone else has that I don't isn't going to help anyone. I am doing me now. 

The Post I Thought I Would Never Write

The boy and I broke up. It is part of why I have been absent. I give up on excuses of why I am absent. I'm not sleeping or eating or doing things normal people do. I don't know how he is because he is staying elsewhere...I don't know where that is. 

I am not going to taint what we had by blogging about why it ended. It just did. I just hung up the phone with my future landlord and I am moving into an apartment that consists of a tiny kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and a bedroom. A nice apartment that I love. I have to have my father cosign because of the foreclosure. I feel like a 19 year old.

I have no room for anything I own. I look at the few boxes the boy has already piled up for me and I think, there is no place for any of this in my life. My kitchen equipment, my dishes, my spices. None of it. 

I'm not sure when I am going to blog again. Right now, it's just not my priority. I love all of you, but I have to figure out me for a little while. I have to move and sell most of my belongings and reconcile what is happening. I have to figure out how to be alone again. 

The moral of the story: just don't ever take me seriously. ever. well, maybe sometimes. this post is a mess.

Clarification: I secretly love that Robin Thicke song. I am not saying that people shouldn't listen to the song. I am just saying it is part of a very prevalent rape culture in this country and to suggest that it should be some sort of feminist anthem is what I have issue with. Do I like that songs like this are part of the mainstream media? Not really. But the song is catchy and I find myself bopping along to it in the car. 

Also that song is taking over my life. 

And I love Jimmy Fallon. And this was awesome. And he is hot. But also kind of douchey, right? Like, when I look at him I immediately know I wouldn't like him. 

Anywho...Here is my thing with rape culture. I am not worried about my peers all of a sudden thinking, well, I never thought it was cool to assume a girl wanted it when she didn't before, but now that Robin Thicke says it's ok, well, shit. Let's do it.

I am worried about our generation's sons and daughters. I am worried about the lessons we are teaching them about what the word no means. And how to treat women. I'm just scared we are trivializing women's rights to their own sexuality. 

Maybe that is a tad hypocritical? I don't mind the songs being out there as long as we don't listen to the lyrics? I don't know. I just know several people contacted me IRL life like "OMG HOW DO YOU NOT LIKE THAT SONG WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU LIGHTEN UP." And I am all, chill. 

Robin Thicke is kind of a douche who thinks he's some kind of feminist. I simply want to point that fact out. 

And then listen to that stupid mother fucking song and laugh every time he says "what rhymes with hug me?" Because: nothing.

So, teach your sons to respect women and THEN let them listen to Robin Thicke. Can we all agree on that?

Also I dropped a 2 X 4 on my foot and it hurts to put weight on it, which makes my dad think it is broken. I have never broken a bone, but I am walking on it, so I assume it is not broken? Well, I have broken toes. And those don't hurt that bad. So...I don't know. Maybe I broke my foot. Maybe I will wake up tomorrow and it will all be fine. Except it is swollen and black and blue. So, maybe not fine? 

I need to make friends with a doctor. Any doctors out there? I need you on retainer. And by retainer I mean you can have some beers when you come over to diagnose whatever I have done to harm myself today. You're going to need to bring a tetanus shot, an x-ray machine and lots and lots of stitches.

Baby otters, feminism, and all of you filing a restraining order.

1. I am addicted to Whisper. If you don't know what it is, it is a lot like the PostSecret iPhone app. If you don't know what PostSecret is, why are we friends? Just kidding. Sort of. I don't really post anything on it and get super annoyed at the 17 year old emo shit, but the voyeuristic quality of just reading people's deepest darkest secrets is something I can't resist. I have always said that if I had any superpower, it would be invisibility. I don't want to watch people have sex or anything. I am just kind of fascinated by the idea of watching people when they don't think anyone is watching. 
2. That last bullet point was super creepy. Let's not all get restraining orders at once. I promise to leave your bushes now....
3. The weather here has been so nice that we have had our windows open for about a week. No, I am not blogging about weather. But, when there is a light breeze and it is slightly cool and all the neighborhood noises float in the room, I am so at peace I can't even explain it. It is my favorite thing in the world to wake up this way. Maybe I would like camping...
4. I have had this song in my head all day. Every time someone said hey, I immediately responded "hey hey hey." The reason is that on the way to work, the radio station said that in response to the controversy over his music video and lyrics, Robin Thicke responded that his song should be the new feminist anthem. Or something. I am not fact checking that quote. So I played the song on my phone before going into work and WHAT. Objectify women. Absolutely. Don't care. Women are hot. If a woman wants to strut around on stage naked, that is her choice. That is feminism. Women choosing. HOWEVER. You are calling the song "blurred lines" and saying "I know you want it" over and over while inferring that she does not, in fact, want it because she is a good girl. Ugh. Rape culture. Just stop. IF A WOMAN WANTS IT, SHE WILL ASK FOR IT. IF SHE DOESN'T, IT IS NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO DETERMINE THAT SHE DOES IN FACT WANT IT AND GIVE IT TO HER. Feminism my fucking ass.
5. I am the only person at work that knows my coworkers girlfriend is pregnant and it is KILLING ME. I want to tell everyone. He is so adorable about it. A family came in the other day with a baby and next thing I know he is at the table (he is a server) holding the baby with this stupid grin on his face. There is NOTHING cuter than a man with a baby. Not even otters. Maybe otters. A MAN HOLDING A BABY OTTER. My brain just exploded.
6. I just finished a 5 book series and feel lost. I know, Pocket Pen, I will start the next one you told me to STOP EVERYTHING AND READ RIGHT NOW. I really will. I just always feel like I lost a friend when I finish a series. Is that weird? Is this reason number 462 I need therapy? 
7. It's official. I am a fan girl...what I swore I would never be. I now own a MacBook Pro, an iPad and an iPhone. And I sold my Kindle. WHAT HAS THE BOY TURNED ME INTO?
8. I hate my job. I have avoided talking about it and I know I need to make a change soon. I am still not really ready to talk about it. 
9. I think I have the name picked out for the catering company. I need input, if you all don't mind. It is between "Infused: A private chef experience" and "Infused private catering." Eh? 
10. This post was super shouty. My bad.