poop on a stick

Today at work, my manager was required to confront a customer and ask him "Sir, did you just call your server a bonehead?". This was after said customer had already shown his ass to both me and the manager for no good reason, other than perhaps having some sort of twisted sense of superiority.

    I inadvertantly brought him a fork that hadn't come quite clean in the wash, and rather than just ask me for a clean fork like normal people do, he proceeds to act like a complete jerk in front of his two kids. He basically had the adult equivalent of a temper-tantrum. This culminates in him calling me a bonehead, and me going to the manager and saying that I'm done with them. Mr. Bossman decides to go chat with him (he'd already witnessed a big chunk of this dude's theatrics, and knew that he was of the unreasonable persuasion) and inform him that he is not entitled to go around calling the staff members names. The guy didn't think there was anything wrong with acting like this. Meanwhile, all the other tables around him are staring because yeah, it's pretty funny. The manager tells him to cool it, so Captain Douchebag calls him a bonehead. So the manager tells him to get out. CD responds by calling him a jackass. Stand-up guy, this one was. I hope his kids learn better habits from their mom. I also hope he's embarrassed for getting kicked out of a restaurant for being a dick at 10am. And most of all, I hope that while we were all laughing at him all day, he's been at home stewing over his tainted fork. And that he's still pissed off about it later on tonight when I'm getting dinner and drinking a beer. One thing's for sure; I'd rather be a bonehead than a raging asshole.


I watched the Twilight Criterium yesterday. I didn't really plan on going this year, and only went to watch a particular person race, but once I was there I remembered how neat it is to watch. There was a huge crash at the second turn pretty far into the race. About 70 cyclists went down, and I believe they just had to sort of start over. When the race ended, there was a lot of controversy over who had won.

That particular person is once again trying to become my friend again, even though I've made it very clear why it's just not in the cards right now, even fairly recently. I still am not sure how I feel about this. We've gone a long time without really speaking outside of work, and I was finally healing. But now he's calling me and asking me to hang out and such again. I don't want to reverse what has taken me so long to get past. I don't know what his intentions are, but I am wary of going there again, even as just friends.

But now, I bowl.

floating upon the surface for the birds

I am supposed to be going to Gainesville today for a rehearsal. But the woman I am riding with has not returned my calls, and she was not at CCB rehearsal on Tuesday. So I guess I took a day off work for nothing.

Why is it that the only people (read: guys) who show an interest in me are people with whom I have absolutely NOTHING in common? Which therefore makes me not interested. Plus I suck at the whole flirting/hanging out/dating/whatever thing anyway, so when this situation pops up I tend to just sort of ignore it and hope it goes away. I also tend to never show my own interest in someone (read: a guy), which apparently has caused a lot of people who don't really know me to assume I'm a lesbian. NEWSFLASH: Erin likes guys.

No matter... MySpace advertisements to the rescue! This was the ad posted on my page when I logged in today:

Notice the location...  So that's where all the hot, rich young men have been hiding out!

My backyard is reaching jungle-like proportions. A few weeks ago, I went out there and collected all the dead branches that had fallen from my nasty-ass pecan tree (I hate those things. They aren't pretty and they drop shit constantly whether it be leaves or that stringy crap that gets stuck in your hair or actual pecans or then later the pecan pod thingys and then most of the branches... it never ends) and made a nice little pile of dead wood up against my back fence. First, I thought it would save the landlord a little time when he showed up to mow the yard; second, I want to get one of those firebowl things (because I'm afraid the landlord will freak if I just make a firepit in the yard) and figured that I'd just burn up the branches some nice night. Well, I get home the other day and notice the gate is open. The yard is still knee-high, but all my branches are gone! Duder took my sticks. And didn't cut the grass. Jerk.

Let's have another go at it.

It's official. In July, I will be making a return to the halls of academe. Now I worry about the details like, you know, paying for it. Shit be expensive.

part 2

One day you'll look to see I've gone
For tomorrow may rain so
I'll follow the sun.

Someday you'll know I was the one
But tomorrow may rain so
I'll follow the sun.

And now the time has come
And so my love, I must go
And though I lose a friend
In the end you will know...

One day you'll find that I have gone
But tomorrow may rain so
I'll follow the sun.

art/life

I fly a starship across the universe divide
And when I reach the other side
I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I'll be back again.

Way over yonder in the minor key

I can't think of a good opening to this right now. Reminds me of my years of writing papers for school... I always had the most trouble with the opening paragraph and the closing paragraph. I suppose waiting until 10 pm the night before due date could have had something to do with it, but strangely enough, my paper-writing methods parallel the way I live. Beginnings are awkward and forced, endings are short and rather inconclusive, often just sort of fading out, and the entire affair is put off until the last possible moment so that the final result is a hastily-assembled sloppy bag o'shit that stresses me out more than it should. This applies to people, work, school, everything.

Someone asked me the other day if I miss text-messaging. What a ridiculous thing to think about! Missing something like that; an intangible, mindless, and unnecessary thing. It's not a hobby, for chrissakes. You miss your old best friend or your long-dead dog or playing the piano or the coin/comic book collection your parents threw away when you went off to college. You know, things that mean a lot to you emotionally. Not text-messaging. Yes, there are times when I would like to use it for simplicity's sake, or even for fun (i.e. sending pictures), but I don't miss it and it's not worth the $0.15 it would now cost to use.

Speaking of text messaging... "Oh, I would have told you we were out, but you said not to text you, and I sent a text telling everyone where we were." Lame.

Still no word from ATC. I hope they get on it. I have things to plan.

My efforts at finding a new 'core' of people to spend my time with seem to be futile. At least in terms of them being anything more than superficial interactions. And I'm also getting the impression that I'm not particularly welcome. I sense a change in atmosphere when I show up. 'No Vacancy', flashes the neon sign.

I'm tempted to just not ever go back. But that's bad for business. I am hoping to be at least cutting back on my hours a little bit in order to try another venture. My contact person is out of town until Monday, so I don't even know the details myself. And I've had more than one false-alert, so I'm not going to get my hopes up (ha, gotta have 'em first) about this. It would be nice for something to work out for once.

When I see a spider outside, I think it's neat. When I see a spider inside, I think it needs to go back outside, but still it's pretty neat.  When something has been poking me in the upper thigh for 20 minutes and in frustration at this little irritation I shake out my jeans leg and a spider (bigger than a quarter) falls out, yeah, then I don't think it's neat.

Good god. I need a jump start.