Sunday, August 29, 2004

I have no words...

...but my friend Carl has lots of words. I've asked him to guest-blog for me. He was privy to most of my weekend stuff. He was either there for situations or was hearing about it via cell calls. I can't wait to hear how my weekend sounds from another point of view. I know at one point the horse was dead. We stopped beating it. But then it's leg moved a little bit....and so on & so forth.

Peace

Friday, August 27, 2004

Say it isn't so!!!

I was just checking some of my favorite blogs before I went to sleep. And I am so sad to find that Diablo has said her final words. I feel like such a loser that I haven't linked her; although I fully intended to. There are several blogs that I love to read that I haven't linked yet because this is a blog in progress & I'm such a fucking procrastinator!

Diablo: You will be sorely missed! I lived a part of my life vicariously through you. You are an incredible writer & I know that when I'm reading your 5th book four years from now; I'll be remembering how you touched my life through just your blog. I wish you the best of luck in just EVERYTHING!

I'm sad.

Please note all Emergency Exits

This is crazy.

Living in St. Croix; or any island in the West Indies for that matter; it is very inexpensive to travel between the islands in the Caribbean. You get a USVI resident discount and, well, everything is just kinda close together. Traveling at low altitudes coupled with the inexperience of the pilots lend to some very interesting, if not down-right scary, situations. The first time I flew off the island, I was flying on an American turbo prop to the Dominican Republic. We're doing the hairpin turn to get on the runway to take off when the pilot slams on the brakes. Threw us all out of our seats. Literally. Right in front of us mid hair-pin turn; a much bigger plane lands. Call me stupid, but when driving my car; I tend to look left when making a right hand turn. To see if another plane; I mean car, is coming my way. Pilots that do the island-hop routes are on the bottom of the "pilot-food-chain". I've actually been on an island-hop plane that was piloted by a guy that, four hours earlier, I was kicking out of my bar cause we were closing.

Anyway, we land in Santo Domingo and everyone applauds. Now I'm thinking we're just clapping because the take-off was dicey & we appreciate the fact that the pilot saved our lives back there. It took me at least 3 more off-island flights involving various heart-stopping episodes ending with applause to realize that the applause is always actually warranted. And this is a tradition. Imagine my embarrassment the first flight I take back to the states, we land in Atlanta & I'm the only one clapping. OMG, we have a real pilot?

But never ONCE did the door fly open. I guess I should give those island-hopping-fly-boys some props for that.

Peace

Thursday, August 26, 2004

Grasping at a Realization

I love reading MimiSmartypants.

Today she quoted The Poet Charles Simic:

" The plain truth is that we are going to die. Here I am, a teeny speck surrounded by boundless space and time, arguing with the whole of creation, shaking my fist, sputtering, growing even eloquent at times, and then---poof! I am gone. Swept off once and for all. I think that's very, very funny."

This reminded me of the fact that the main "thing" that sticks in my mind (out of every college course I took) is the Keynes theory in economics. "In the long run we all die." Now, this is not to say that I am suicidal & see no point in life. I see it more as a statement that things do eventually come to an end. Which is what I think Keynes actually meant. You can stress over the "supply & demand" in your life. Whether it be a relationship, a job; should you paint your nails green for St. Pats day. I guess I always held onto that theory so that when I thought things were just completely hopeless; I had an out. Because I believe it. "In the long run we all die" is just another way of saying, "In the long run, things work themselves out." It may not be the way we had hoped; but everything works itself out eventually.

On another note, I had the realization today that my cats are NEVER going to get a job. I kept hoping they would. Ya know, just to help out with the expense of food, litter, what have you. For right now, they just seem content to be RIGHT UNDER MY FEET all the time needing attention. I would like to see them as my equals; but they don't seem to want to discuss Keynes theory. Imagine how powerful I feel saying, "These cats have No Fucking clue!!".

Peace

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Tonight I cried over spilt milk.

Only it wasn't milk. It was 150 year old Grand Marnier.

I stopped by to see a fellow bartender at her bar after I got off work. Just popped in to say "hello", cause I was actually coming straight home. A man at her bar ordered a 150 right as I got there. She pours the snifter, puts it in front of him, and he knocks it over. Just Like That. Blood of the Unicorn all over the bar. I actually felt tears well up in my eyes. Now; I'm a beer person by nature. Good beer; but beer, nonetheless. I do have a penchant for Very Good Vodka. Which I usually only indulge in when I want to indulge myself. Above & beyond all that; I LOVE 150 Grand Marnier. Anyone that really enjoys a smooth, sweet, sipping liqueur knows what I was feeling while I watched it creep down the bar before my friend could swipe it up with a bar towel. What a waste.

Someone emailed me to ask which bar book I keep behind my bar. It's "American Bar" by Charles Schumann. It's a "Nice" book. Beautifully bound. Colored paper edges with a nice fabric bookmark worked into the binding. It lists all the top drinks; breakdowns on all liquors, liqueurs, wines, champagnes. Beautiful illustrations. How-to's & advice. I recommend it above all others.

Advice on one way to keep Scarlett happy: Don't knock over your 150. I WILL cry.

Peace

Saturday, August 21, 2004

Doesn't anyone have a sense of humor anymore?

Praise the Lord! My cable was back on when I woke up this morning. It was almost as good of a feeling as having breakfast served in bed by that cute neighbor guy....nevermind. That hasn't actually happened. Imagination running. Anyway, I call cable company to let them know that it's back on. The guy says, "So would you like to cancel the repair appointment we have set up for you on Sunday?" I say, "Well, I don't know. Is the tech cute?" To which he says, "Miss O'hara, we take sexual harassment very seriously here." Dude, I'm just answering your stupid quesiton with a silly question. Tit for Tat. Relax, OK?

First time I flew after 9/11, I went home to visit my parents. I breeze through security at National Airport like nobodies business. Apparently, I used up all my good airport karma there.
Coming back, I'm very accomodating with all the taking off of the shoes, arms out for the "wand" once-over, etc. Put my shoes back on & am surprised I'm still waiting for my stuff to come off the x-ray belt. I see it come out but then it's grabbed and put back on again. And again. And then my carry-on is set aside, but my purse goes back through. Security #1 calls over Security #2 for a look-see. He apparently concurs & they call me over to the table. "Miss O'hara, before we go through your bag, is there anything in here that may be considered a weapon?" (Well, I could cut that tampon in two, stick the pieces up your nose, clamp my hand over your mouth & smother you to death.) "No Sir. Not that I know of." He pulls out everything from my purse & THERE IT IS!! My wine key!!! (I got through the security at National with this WMD) He tells me that he's going to have to confiscate it. He gives me a visual by pulling out the corkscrew portion & says, "Now, you probably couldn't do much with this, (pulls out the 3/4 " KNIFE) but this could really hurt someone!" I say, "True. And if I could get someone to stand still for 30 minutes while I hack away at them with it; I might could really do some damage!" "Miss O'hara, security is no laughing matter." I can see that. You're not laughing even a little bit. Relax, OK? So much for trying to loosen up a tense person. And it kinda pissed me off that I HAD thought about how tight the security may be. I made a point of making sure my nail clippers, eye brow tweezers, nail file, etc. were in my checked bags. I didn't even think about the wine key. I've been carrying a wine key in my purse for years. Not so much for that "wine-key-emergency" that actually happens more than you would think; but just so I don't find myself without one at work. I would like to say "Lesson Learned", but I've had a wine key in my purse everytime I've flown since, & it hasn't been noticed. I did miss a flight out of Ft. Lauderdale last year cause of a pair of kid's craft scissors in my carry-on. Ended up going through Pittsburgh instead of Charlotte to get back to DC. Had never been to Pittsburgh before. Nice airport.

Hey! I got cable back!!

Peace



Friday, August 20, 2004

Any takers??

I put post-it notes on my terminal to remind me of important stuff. Or at least stuff that I consider to be important Right That Minute. I have one of those skinny post-its on my terminal that simply says, "04032x-00026x". It's been there awhile. I have no fucking clue what it means. I do know that's it's not some code that gives away my site, checking account, or secret drink ingredients. hmmmmmm. Should I save it? Say a little prayer & toss it? Should I ask the cable guy; when & even if he shows up?

So sue me....

I'm a creature of habit. When I get home from work (sometimes via a bar, party, what have you) I immediately turn on the TV & the computer. I tune the TV to Nick at Nite, mute it, put in a CD. My computer is across the room from the TV. For some reason, I need to see muted images on the TV in addition to music to complete my internet experience. I know. I don't get it either. Imagine my horror when, tonight I do all this stuff & all I get is a blue screen on my TV. Well, I can't be bothered by going through all the motions of signing off the computer to free up my landline, find the phone book for cable company number & then go to yet ANOTHER room to get my cordless phone to call. I'm a techie. I do what comes natural. I remain in my seat, go to the Cox cable website, find the number, and call from my cell phone which is always at my hip. I connect with a nice young man named "Ryan" in the Atlanta office who is SO excited to be talking to another Southerner. "I've been talking to those damn hippies on the West Coast all night!" His words. I thought about broadening his horizon on the subject of "hippies", but he sounded so sweet & naive; I didn't want to overwhelm him. Anyway, he sends that mysterious "signal" to my box (ok) & if that doesn't work, I'm supposed to call back. It doesn't, so I do. This time I get "Courtney". Courtney is going to try the same signal thing. While we're waiting for my box to do something; anything..Courtney feels the need to share that she is a full-time student working these un-godly hours because she has to keep herself in boots. Boots that go up to her knees with cute little pointy heels (her words). And she shops everywhere. And then she tells me everywhere she shops while I'm just holding that ball-point pen up to my eye clicking like a maniac spelling out "Boots" dot-matrix style on my eyeball. She wraps up by telling me there's nothing she can do; but can I meet a cable guy at my apt. between 3 & 5 on Sunday to see if he can fix it? Sunday? Did she say SUNDAY? As in, 2 days away? OK...paint me stupid; but didn't the whole cliche of having to schedule your life around the cable guy kinda end with the movie? For right now...I've popped in a tape of Lewis Black "Black on Broadway". I don't even need to hear him...I love the finger jabbing thing he does when I catch it out of the side of my eye.

$50 to any Cox cable tech reading this that can be at my house in the next 24 hours.

Peace

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Which is it?

'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' or 'Out of sight - Out of mind'? Did you miss me or forget about me?

Anyway; much, too much, going on right now. Can't decide whether to laugh or cry; do a little dance or throw a temper tantrum. Fortunately for me, I have parents that allow me to have all these emotions in the space of 5 minutes without thinking I'm crazy. Sadly, they are far away; so all of our conversations (counsel sessions, lately) are over the phone.

Attention teenagers: Be kind to your parents. Sure, you're inclined to rebel. But that's just because, as a teenager, you just don't know any other way to gain/show your independence. But, mark my words. There will be times in your life when you will just ache for the time when you didn't have to be so independent.

My friend Carl tells me this joke that just sends me into hysterics. "Two termites walk into a bar & ask, 'Is the bar tender here?'"

I know. Just leave me alone & let me have the nervous break-down I SO deserve.

Be back soon.

Peace

Saturday, August 14, 2004

"Will Work For Life Advice"

....That's what my sandwich board will read.

Conditions where I work have put me & a few other people in the position of deciding whether or not we want to continue working there. I'm not going into details just yet; and that's not the purpose of this post anyway.

I have several regulars that; over the course of time; I don't look at as regulars anymore. I consider them friends. I divulge a little more of myself than I would to other people. I feel comfortable telling them more details about my day-to-day life & I feel more comfortable about asking them about theirs. I'm genuinely happy when I see them come in. And not in a "here's another tip" kinda way. When I started thinking that I MAY leave this job; my first thought was that I did not want to leave without being able to let my guests that I've come to see as friends know where I would be. I tentatively told a hand few tonight that I may be leaving & asked if I could get in touch with them if that happens. (Believe it or not; this girl does feel a little insecure sometimes! What if one of them said, "Well, have a nice life! It was nice knowin' ya!"?) I was very touched that they showed that they think of me as a friend as well. Not just some entertaining bartender that gets them drinks & food really quick. I've forged some of my best friendships over a bar. It doesn't happen alot,but sometimes after I've talked to someone at my bar several times, I think, "I could really hang out with this person." And it's always because I come to respect them. I can't hang with anyone I don't respect. I come to respect their ability to learn from their mistakes, their hindsight, their outlook, their advice, their sense-of-self, their sense of me. Morals & ethics are important to me, too. But, I believe that the other stuff makes the person. Are you not going to have someone as your friend just because they may sleep around alot & you don't? Or they may think it's OK to steal paper from work & you don't? You get my point.

And Rhino, what did you pay for Kbear's? I may be looking for extra money! Thinkin' I should start an auction myself!

Peace

Friday, August 13, 2004

On a clear day; you can see forever.

...unless you have your hands over your eyes.

This guy sat at my bar tonight & told me that he had just moved here from Nebraska. He's been here for two weeks waiting to start a job that's going to last 3 years. He's all pissed off because "there's nothing to do in this town!". He's in the nation's capital & he can't find anything to do. It makes me question what is considered a "good time" in Nebraska. (I'm getting more than my fair share of education on other states this week.) I mean, besides all that history stuff, and the Mall, & the fact we're only 2nd on the eastern seaboard for night-life; what the fuck do you wanna do? It reminds me of a time....I lived in St. Croix for 4 years managing a dive shop & bartending at a resort. I was in the dive shop one day when a cruzan(native) guy walked in. He's looking at all the underwater pictures on the wall & asks me, "Where these pictures from?". I told him they were taken about a 100 yards off-shore. He says, "No shit! The things in these pictures are out There?". I remember thinking how incredibly sad it was that I had given up my job, put everything I had in storage, & left my friends and family to move to an 87 square mile island so that I could do REALLY good diving AND someone born & raised there didn't even know what was right under his nose.

Situation reversed, I know. It just reminded me......


Peace

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Sweet Home Alabama?

....if you say so.

I also had the pleasure (?) of being hostess to 4 boys from the great state of Alabama tonight. I would just like to say upfront that I'm hoping these boys are not representative of all people in the state of Alabama. Which I'm sure is a great state. It's big & well; it's a state. Never had opportunity or any real reason to go there; but then I haven't been to Kansas either. And apparently REALLY mystical things happen there.

I knew they were trouble after only their second round I had to ask them to quiet down. Which I rarely do to anyone. We were still in the dinner hour & all the LOUD "Fuckin-A"'s & "Bite Me Mother Fucker!"'s were bringing on complaints from the people trying to have dinner. We don't really turn into a "Drinkin'" bar 'til about 10pm. So I try to keep a lid on people until then. Usually not a problem. And then everything was kinda OK until I heard one of them refer to me as the "bitch that is tryin' to cut off our night". Ya know what? In these parts, sweetheart, the people basically know time & place. Another hour & you can go fuckin' nuts if you want to. I don't think the couple sitting behind you dropping 175$ on their dinner wants to hear the language or the way you feel about roughly 32 different ethnic groups. This was another thing. I haven't heard that many racial slurs in the last 20 years. And I thought it was really ironic when I found out that XYZ company had sent them here for a two-week class. XYZ should be SO proud. I didn't blast the guy. Just handed them the check & asked them to pay. Two of the group saw it my way, herded up the other two & they were gone. Not without the "brilliant" one calling me some choice names, but; I'm just hoping that he'll tell two friends, and then they'll tell two friends; & so on, & so on. Until I just don't have to ever be visited by Alabama boys again.

Now, Kentucky boys; that's a totally different thing!

Peace


Don't gleek me & expect to get away with it.....

...unless I've seen you naked.

My friends Jeff & Beth came by to see me at my bar tonight. They are a couple of a hand-few of my friends that I've told about this site. Beth told me that when that guy accidently spit on me the other night; he "gleeked" me. I've never heard this term before. So I ask my man Jeeves for a full-out definition & this is what I find:

gleek: when spit comes out of one's mouth while speaking, yawning, etc.

EXAMPLE: Damn you! You just gleeked all over me.
Haha, I just gleeked on ya!

This was courtesy of www.slangsite.com

I also found out that "gleek" is a card game & the name of a purple monkey in the cartoon "Superfiends".

Card game, superfriend pet, spit. I don't get it.

Thank you, Beth for adding this word to my vocabulary! Do you think there is actually a "gleek" charge? Like; could I have someone arrested for this?

Peace

Sunday, August 08, 2004

Well... you definitely got my attention.

I read something somewhere by somebody about when someone accidently spits in your face. It was written as an observation about this thing that happens to everyone at least once in their life; and how we handle it. Maybe it was a Dave Barry column. I think it was. In either case; the gist of the story was how we ignore embarrassing things when they happen. Specifically, being spit in the face..by accident. Happened to me tonight. A very nice man is just telling me how he likes his martini; and some spit flies out of his mouth onto my cheek. Not alot. Just a little. But enough for me to feel it hit & enough for him to know he hit me. We immediately lock eyes. He's not going to apologize because he's in denial and he doesn't want to embarrass himself further. I'm not going to wipe it away because I'm in denial and I don't want to embarrass him further. So he goes into slow motion describing how he would like his martini while I'm slow motion nodding while we're doing this "Jedi" mind thing how neither one of us are going to acknowledge his spit is hanging on my face. We play this game for about 3 minutes. And if I had known him; I would have just said, "What the fuck? You just spit on me!"

We all have so much to say about all the important stuff. We debate strangers on the street about AIDS, World Hunger, abuse of all kinds. Don't you think it's insane you can't just say, "You just spit on me, dude!" because you don't want to 'embarrass' someone? I'm sorry. I seem to be having reality checks every 15 minutes. Does that mean I'm all grown up now?

Peace


Friday, August 06, 2004

OMG....this is my horoscope for Friday:

"This isn't necessarily a time for ill-conceived heroics, yet you could have quite a bit of fun as you rev up your social change engine. If your basic beliefs are being challenged by the outer world, it could be time for you to do something about it. Just be reasonable. If you expect the entire universe to come to your aid, remember how often this has happened without your official request. Still, don't be afraid to ask."

I'm afraid to get up tomorrow.


Back on track...

....somewhat.

I DID have a good night. Flirted with every single guy like each was just the hottest I'd ever seen. I may have even flirted with a few girls. Who knows...sometimes I just get caught up & am pretty indiscriminating in my flirting. I mean, who really has a job better than mine? I clock-in & then socialize for about 7 hours for which people give me money. My job really is just 10% making the drinks & the rest is all being able to out-flirt and out-bullshit. I need to not think like that. Reducing my job to two sentences makes it sound like not even an 1/8th of how much fun it really is. I DO enjoy being a bartender. I'm really gonna miss it. Someone offer me 100K to stay right where I am; and I will. I'll blow off that programming job and just live here happily ever after.

Peace

Thursday, August 05, 2004

It's pretty bright in here....

ahhhh....It's Diamond Dave sittin' over there.

I have a friend who is affectionately known as "Diamond Dave". His name is really Dave; but i'm not really clear on how the Diamond part came about. I've only known him about a year and that's the way he was introduced to me. I know he doesn't deal in diamonds. Maybe he tends to fall in love easily and proposes alot. He is one of those incredibly intelligent people that you just KNOW is teetering on the brink of insanity; because it's just not right that someone is that smart. I run into him about once a week and always end up walking away with new insight about really obscure things. Like heating elements. or Saturn's rings. or "did Roosevelt actually know about Pearl Harbor in advance?". You never know what the subject matter may be when you start talking to him. He just picks & chooses without regard to whatever the conversation may presently be.

Tonight a few of us are having a cocktail after work & just talking about boats. Dave interrupts someone while he's in mid-sentence about mast-height; and says to me, "Scarlett, do you ever question your sanity?" He's not saying it like he's actually QUESTIONING my sanity. Just like he's curious. And I'm thinking this is a subject I can really jump on. "Every waking moment", I say. "Well, then you must be incredibly sane, because only an insane person never questions it." And I had one of those moments you have when someone points out the thing right under your fucking nose that you haven't seen your entire life. And it gave me a good feeling to realize I am sane. Everyone should have a Diamond Dave in their life.

Peace



Wednesday, August 04, 2004

Who are all these people in my living room??

...Did someone forget to lock the door?

Wow..that's how I felt tonight. Very few regulars. But that's ok. The strangers threw me money. And we all know that money buys happiness. Except for that one guy that thinks it doesn't. He tried to start a "saying" about it. Did that ever catch on??

My horoscope for tomorrow (today):

" Okay Lions, it could be time for you to put on a little show. Give them a roar or two and you'll be looking good. Just don't overdo it. Your language is very focused now. You say exactly what you mean. You can move others to action as long as you don't put yourself too far above them and as long as you don't go on roaring just because you like the attention."

(Damn.....just call me "bitch" to my face.)

So, I meet my friends Tom & Sara out. We go to 'Southside' to hear an incredible band. Lead singer was a skinny little white boy on piano that sounded exactly like Ray Charles. Good company; good drinks; good music. New attitude.


And thank you Tom.:)


Peace

Sunday, August 01, 2004

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood....

....won't you be my neighbor? Please?

So, I'm coming out of my apartment & going to the elevator. I hear it opening even though I can't see it. I run. I clear the corner & run into my new neighbor getting off the elevator. I've had literally 3 words with him in the past. I say the obligatory "Hi. How ya doin'?" And he says, "I'd love to stay & chat but I have to take a dump. Right now! Have a good day!" Nice, dude. I mean, I think I would have thought you'd snubbed me if you'd just said you were in a hurry. I feel better that you shared. I can sleep tonight. Jesus H.!! Are people just not plain polite anymore or am I just in the wrong city?

Another 24 hours call-screening. I'm one "in control" bitch. Yes, I am. Give me props. I deserve it.

Peace


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