Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Sigh...

Well, the dinner fell through Monday night because he ended up having to work late. He asked if I wanted to meet for a drink, but since he works near me & I wasn't really up to venturing out at 9pm; I invited him to stop by & have a drink here. I realized pretty quickly that he's not that great of a conversationalist if there aren't 5-6 other people around. Yes. He's one of those people that just feeds off of things said by other people. Doesn't really have any original thoughts of his own. And I'm no babysitter. I get bored when someone is just answering me with no elaboration & just saying, "Yes! I agree!" every time I make a statement. After a martini & 45 mins. of this; I developed an imaginary migraine. (Just in case he asks: I am prone to these.) And don't get all freaked out thinking I invited some stranger into my home. I've known him for a while. He's a friend of several of my friends. We've only ever talked while in a group. Hence; my surprise that he lacks one-on-one conversational skills. All I can say about the short time he was here is that one of my cat's liked him. But, she likes everyone that has "Idle Hand Syndrome". (People that have to be doing something with their hands all the time; like petting a cat.)

___________________

I re-newed my driver's license today. For those that have been keeping up; I re-newed because I had let it expire. I have a whole long story about why it expired; but, in a nut shell; I dropped the ball. Whatever. So, I got someone to work half day for me today so that I could take care of it. I'm flying out on Friday & I have to have a valid pic ID to get on the plane. The pressure is on.

I opt to go to the DMV office closest to where I work vs. where I live. Don't know why. No logic behind the decision. I get there about 10:15am. Not many people there. I went to the Info desk to get my number & the woman there tells me that I have to have proof of "Legal Presence". This is a new thing. I have to either have a Passport, Birth Certificate, or a certified copy of my Birth Certificate. Apparently, the actual license that I have issued by them is not proof enough of my existence. According to the Highway Department; the minute I let my license lapse; I ceased to exist. I have to prove myself all over again. Like when I was 17 and getting my very first DL. For a split second (given my nature) I want to debate the girl at the Info desk. And then in the next split second, I realize, she's just the girl at the Info desk. I can bitch all day & nothing will change. So I smile & say, "I'll be back in a little bit". I drive all the way back home (still rush hour. Rush hour here lasts for about 6 hours). I'm so organized; I have my original BC plus a certified copy of it in my hands in no time. (Still can't find my CD cases; but I pick & choose my organizational battles.)

I get back there & only have to wait about 15 minutes before my number is called. Only to be told that I still need more proof of who I am because my license doesn't count because it is EXPIRED. That would be my primary; the BC is considered secondary. (Just to catch you up: You need a VALID DL as proof of legal presence in order to get a new DL to replace the one that has expired. I only did shrooms that one time; but it felt alot like this.) She then gives me a list of things that I can pick & choose from to prove who I am. It lists marriage license, military ID, INS something or other; chit like that. I tell her, "I don't have any of these things. Never been married. Never been in the military. Never had to deal with the INS" (does my little bit of an accent mean NOTHING?). After I said that, she looks down at my DL (I know she's doing the math), looks up at me & says, "You've never been married?".

Again the split second thing. When I feel like I really need to say something. I need to explain to this complete stranger my theory on marriage, and how I've had 4 rings on my finger but could never do it? The curse of being a bartender. We're so used to people asking us about our personal lives & we just share for no other reason than getting a good tip. And I'm guessing this chick is not going to tip me. So I just say, "Are you not going to give me a DL because I haven't been married before?" I ask to speak to a manager.

You're thinking this story can't be any longer. It So Can.

I go to the manager's line. This is a line you have to stand in. There's no number system where you get to sit down til you're called. My back has been killing me; so by the time I'm summoned up; my back is screaming. I lean down on the counter and position my hips where I'm in the least pain. I tell the manager about my problem that I can't produce the proof they need. She appears to be going over my paper work & then looks up at me. "I'm not comfortable with how close you are to me." WHAT? I'm one out of 20 out of 200 in this room right now that has had a shower today. And I'm about 3 feet away from you. Well outside your 18" of personal space. And I told her that my back was killing me & this was the only position I was comfortable in. She changes her tune & is all of a sudden sympathetic & wants to tell me all about her back problems. Fuck me. I'm never going to win. For some reason; I thought I could get through all this without making a new unwanted best friend.

To Be Continued........



Martini anyone?

Monday, January 24, 2005

Stereotypes.....

Ok, noone else will say it; but I will. Guys that deliver beer are hot. There. It's said. But, being hot to start with is not enough; they wear shorts in the winter to perpetuate their hotness by being oblivious to the elements. Which equals: Ultra Hot Guy. Damn.

Cases in Point: There is Mike (Bud Guy) & Wayne (Miller Lite Guy). I enjoy their company a couple times a week. They always arrive in the am when I'm just setting up. They both greet me with "Hi Gorgeous! What can I do for YOU today?" & "Hello Sweet Girl; I'm here to stock you up!" respectively. And they're hot. And they're wearing shorts when it's 18 degrees outside. What's not to love?

Anyway, I realized today that every single beer delivery guy I've encountered in my years of bartending have always been incredibly good-looking. I mean, magazine quality. Which makes me wonder: Is hotness a prerequisite? Because you're mostly going to be dealing with daytime bartenders that are going to be mostly female?

Actually, I don't want to put a whole lot of thought into it because I'm just enjoying the view.

_______________________

I have a dinner date tomorrow. Not the first since my heart was pulled out through my chest and julienned like last nights veggies; but one I'm actually looking forward to. I just hope he opens the doors (car, restaurant), orders for both of us (I'll tell him what I want), and wants dessert (I'm nothing if I'm not a food whore). He's a chemical engineer; but, do you think he would be offended if I asked him to wear a "beer-delivery-guy" uniform? Yeah, I'm reaching. I'll try not to burp during dinner.

peace

Sunday, January 23, 2005



***Fat Tuesday is February 8***

************CHEERS!************




Someone found me when they Googled "Artemidorous". I'm guessing they were more than a little disappointed when they got here.

peace

Smart Dude

This is me as far as current events are concerned. I have read so many periodicals today; I am just oozing knowledge. And since I won't have that kind of time again for a while, I plan on feeling stupid again by Tuesday.

__________________

On "Elevator Etiquette": I have some. I say Hello to everyone when I get on. I wish them a nice day when I/they get off (wow. I just got an idea for a whole other post). Anyway, I find myself genuinely surprised when someone doesn't respond to me in kind. And it happens alot. I wish someone a nice day when they're getting off on the X floor & 10% of the time, they just keep walkin' without saying anything. Now, I know that it's universally accepted that we all must be quiet on the actual elevator ride; but I never thought "Hi" & "Have a nice day" fell into that category with some people. Fuck 'em. They're on my list of people that will just go thirsty if they ever sit at my bar.

This is the first time in my life that I've lived in a high-rise building. And I've never worked in a high-rise. Pretty much; my life has operated low to the ground. With that in mind, I still find it funny (even after having lived here almost 4 years) that there is no 13th floor according to the elevator. And I feel sorry for the people that live on the "14th" floor. Because you can call it freakin' Heaven; but it's still the 13th floor. Just go outside, look at the building, and count up. YOU LIVE ON THE 13th FLOOR! Just because the elevator button says "14"; that doesn't mean that your destiny isn't what it is.

_________________

If you're living in one of the areas getting all the snow right now; Be Safe. If you're not; can I crash for a few days?

peace

Friday, January 21, 2005

Nouveaux riche is better than no riche at all.

Cool line. Just had to say it. (Stole it from "Ya Ya Sisterhood".)

___________________

The Mighty Jimbo is on sabbatical for a few months. He's traveling, well, everywhere. Go check out his pics. You won't be disappointed.

___________________

It's just not cool for me to say it out loud around here; but I can say it HERE. I love snow. I just do. Even though I've lived here for 7-8 years; I still get excited when it snows. Everyone else that's either from here or further north just get pissy about it. They only see how it mucks up their commute; or their lawn. They don't like the salt & sand residue on their car. Whatever. This is one thing I haven't been here long enough to become jaded about. I still see it as the fluffy white stuff that falls from the heavens that you can make things out of once it's on the ground. And it's pretty. I didn't see that much of it while living in SC. And definitely didn't see it in the Caribbean. (Although, the volcanic ash blowing in from Monseratt tried to imitate it. But, it just made me sneeze.) Anyway, tomorrow I'll be the girl building the snowman out in the parking lot.

peace

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Ad nauseam...

I know you've heard & read about it countless times these last few days; but I just gotta say it: I can't believe "we" spent 40+ MILLION fucking dollars on this freak show affectionately known as the "Inauguration". With everything that's going on right now? Don't get me wrong. I can appreciate the Pomp & Circumstance of the tradition. But, come on. My personal opinion is that, as a country, we should just put a "Kick Me" sign on our backs. Because how freakin' stupid do we look? We're spending that much money to give a man the same party he just had 4 years ago? While we're in the middle of a war & at least 8 different countries have been affected by one of the world's worse natural disasters? Did he not like the party favors then? Thought maybe we could do better this time? How cool would it have been if he had just taken a stand. Gone against tradition. "Ya know, Laura? I think it would be nice to divert these monies to something worthwhile. Like; maybe better equipment to the soldiers in Iraq. Better living conditions while they're protecting us. Maybe we could buy more food & medicine for those poor people that have lost everything they had. Finance all those adoptions that are going to take place for all the children that have lost their entire families. Yeah, that's what we should do. I'm fine with just a little Tent party in the Rose Garden." I'm watching the local news right now covering all the festivities & I just want to say to some of these people, "Wow! That Tux/Ballgown is absolutely beautiful! Imagine being caught in a tidal wave & having to wear it for 2 months! You'll definitely get your money's worth."

I'm sorry if I sound bitter. But it just KILLS me that we spent more in one day on a PARTY than we initially pledged to the tsunami victims. I just don't get it. If someone can explain it to me; I'm all ears.

__________________

I didn't see it, but my friend Annie was telling me about it. Apparently, Jenna was caught Live applying her lip gloss during a key speech today. And Daddy W was then caught mouthing to her, "They're watching you" at which time she promptly put her gloss away. Anyone else catch this? Too funny.

___________________

Don't you just hate it when you've had a great night's sleep, had a good breakfast, taken your vitamins, gotten ready for work, and then thought, "I look pretty good today!"; and one of the first people you see says, "You look tired. You should really take a vacation." If that's never happened to you; you just suck. And your friends are liars.

peace

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Sorry. Wrong number....

...In keeping with my fascination with what people "Google" that leads them to me: "wears no bra in office" & "hand over mouth & nose smother to death". There are other freaky ones; I picked these as the top two for the week. And it's cold in here. Wish I was wearing a bra.

peace

Saturday, January 15, 2005

What WAS that, anyway?

So, I did my MAJOR kitchen cleaning today that I force myself to do every few months. Not just the basic wiping of the surfaces you do every few days so that things appear clean. I'm pulling dishes out of the cabinets to replace shelf paper, wiping down the walls, dusting the cookbooks (that never get used. I just think they look nice. And give the impression to anyone that see's them that I must be a fabulous cook. When the truth is; if it were up to me to provide nourishment to everyone; the population would be alot smaller. Since everyone would starve to death). While I'm cleaning out the fridge (I've pulled out the food, shelves, everything) I find this brown stuff on the back wall. It looks like something spilled on the top shelf & dripped all the way to the bottom. It's like caramel. And I've never had any of that in my fridge. Or anything like it. Very bizarre. Anyway, the coup de grace was my throwing out a jar of spicy mustard that an ex-boyfriend had bought in 1999. I haven't used it since. Yeah, it was bittersweet; but some things you just have to let go of.

And I noticed (while cleaning out my "glasses" cabinet) that I have alot of freakin' glasses. Wine & shot glasses specifically. I can only aspire to have such a successful party (or the room, for that matter) that would require this many wine glasses. And I'm not a shot-glass collector. I just seem to "acquire" them. From distributors, friends. Let's just say that 40+ people could do a shot to something in my house at any given moment. BYOB, people.

__________________

In a conversation with Rhino last night, we got on the subject of James Bond. In the context of who has played him. Out of curiosity, I asked Jeeves. Do any of you remember George Lazenby in "On Her Majesty's Secret Service"? I don't know who Lazenby is at all. And based on that, I regretfully step down as a Bond know-it-all.

___________________

Ya'll have a great weekend. Hopefully tomorrow I can bore you with a story about cleaning my room. Maybe I'll find those 3 CD cases I'm missing. Don't people usually lose the actual CD's? And still have the cases?


peace


*To my friend, J: Just take a deep breath, darlin'. Everything will be OK.

Friday, January 14, 2005

I just want to say upfront that I'm not one of those "Crazy Cat Ladies". I have two cats. A mother & daughter set. 10 & 9 years old. I feed them, give them water, clean their litter box once a day. They sleep roughly 20 hours a day. I pet them if they walk up to me. I basically enjoy their company, I suppose. I guess it makes me feel less neurotic if I think there are ears picking up the sound waves when I'm talking to myself at home. I don't use up lots of film taking pictures of them. I don't have cat earrings & cat sweatshirts. Or little statues of cats all over my house. Don't get me wrong. I love them very much. But I don't freak over every single little thing they do. BUT. Every now & then; one of them will do something that makes me laugh my ass off. I was just sitting here 5 minutes ago, and Bailey (the daughter) was just sitting on the floor next to me. Just sitting there (day dreaming? plotting her next move? plotting her escape?). Whatever. It was nice because she was actually being quiet. She hardly ever is. She's Siamese, so it's always talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Well, she sneezes. In a split second, she's on all fours, hair raised, eyes like plates, looking around like, "Who just shot me in the ass with a BB gun??". Too fucking funny.

Sorry, I just had to share. Something of interest later.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Flying....

....by the seat of my pants, sometimes.

So, I just booked a flight to SC to visit my family. It will be a short visit. Less than 48 hours, as a matter of fact. I was really trying to find a week off next month so that I could visit longer; but it began to look like that wouldn't happen until March. And I am really homesick. Haven't been home in over a year 1/2.

Anyway, I'm completely anal when it comes to flying. I want COMPLETE comfort. Or, as much comfort as I can get flying coach. I want to be in either the front row or the "Emergency Exit" row. Those rows have the most leg room. And if I can get one of those rows, I will sit window. Otherwise, I have to be aisle. And as far as the "Emergency Exit" row goes; I find it totally annoying when the flight attendant makes that special stop to inform us "rebels" that we are in an "Emergency Exit" row & (to paraphrase) "Are you up to the task of saving everyone on this plane should we plummet towards the earth?". Well, YEAH. I'd rather be the one in charge of pulling the handle to open the door as opposed to being the poor fucker in, say, the second row. Who has no clue what to do. And while we're on the subject, why would we be opening the door before we hit the ground anyway? So that we can all jump out because we're wearing pretend parachutes? I was never quite clear on that logic. As far as pulling the handle once we're on the ground; 99% of the time, we're already dead. So it's a moot point.

And I have a huge bitch with turbo-props. Since I mostly fly along the east coast doing short hops, I am forced to risk life & limb in these death traps. I'm sorry. If the difference of us crashing & burning or soaring like a bird is all based on which side of the plane a 300lb. man sits; this is not a real plane. More like a Super Hang Glider. I always feel sorry for that guy. The one the flight attendant approaches & asks if he would mind trading seats with the anorexic. Also, if I can't sit at a window seat without being able to put both feet on the floor side-by-side; this is not a real plane. I get a cramp in my hip everytime I think of how many times I've sat at the window with one foot resting 10" higher than the other because of the curve of the plane. I've flown in 6-seater sea planes I felt safer in.

A final word. I found this amusing:

"NOTICE: Your credit card company may place the words "San Antonio" in addition to the ticket number and carrier name in the
explanation line on your statement related to your transaction with AOL Travel"

Ok. I live in DC. I'm traveling to SC. Where I was born & raised. Then, I'm traveling back to DC via Philadelphia. I've never been to San Antonio. I had a layover at the Dallas/Fort Worth airport once. This escapes me. They "may" place the words? Is it random? Do I win a prize if they do? So much different than me just walking up to the Captain of the sea plane in St. Croix & handing him 60$ cash to fly over to St. Thomas to get sushi.

Maybe I should have titled this post "Part 1" because I have alot of air travel bitches.


peace

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Remember when you were young....

.....and your rationalization for wanting to do something was because, "Everyone else is doing it!" And your mom would say, "Well, if everyone stuck their head in a fire; would you?". Sure! I mean, I don't want to be the ONLY one with hair. And with that thought; I'm taking this quiz:

Three Names You Go By:
1. Kimberly
2. Kimmy (only certain people are allowed to call me this)
3. Kasey

Three Screen names You Have:
1. bartenderdejour
2. bartenderdujour
3. kimscubas

Three Things You Like About Yourself:
1. My compassion for the people I care about
2. My gift for gab
3. My eyes

Three Things You Hate/Dislike About Yourself:
1. I'm too skinny
2. My inability to just settle down already
3. My impatience

Three Things That Scare You:
1. Losing members of my family
2. The Dark (I still sleep with a light on)
3. Drowning

Three of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Nice people
2. Starbucks Hazelnut Latte
3. HeadLine News

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now
1. Clemson sweatshirt
2. flannel pj bottoms (they don't match the shirt)
3. hmmmm, belly ring? does that count?

Three of Your Favorite Bands/Artists (at the moment):
1. Nelly Fertado
2. Goo Goo Dolls
3. Van Morrison

Three of Your Favorite Songs at Present:
1. "Mystic" - Van Morrison
2. "Slide" - Goo Goo Dolls
3. "Thunder" - Jackson Browne

Three Things You Want to Do in The Next 12 Months:
1. spend more time with my family
2. start my career in programming
3. buy a place

Three Things You Want in a Relationship (love is a given):
1. Honesty
2. Intimacy
3. Laughter

Two Truths and a Lie:
1. I love my family & friends
2. I'm never drinking Grand Marnier again
3. I have a "beauty mark" on my left cheek (face, that is)

Three Physical Things About the Opposite Sex (or same) That Appeal to You:
1. chest
2. legs
3. ass

Three Things You Just Can't Do:
1. eat liver
2. be intentionally mean
3. not look both ways

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies:
1. SCUBA
2. dancing
3. reading

Three Things You Want to do Really Badly Right Now:
1. see my family
2. take a vacation
3. mend my heart

Three Careers You're Considering:
1. programming
2. programming
3. and, well, programming (wow! I hope that works out!)

Three Places You Want to Go on Vacation:
1. Dive the Great Barrier Reef
2. Dive the Red Sea
3. Italy

Three Kids Names:
1. Paige
2. Kaitlyn
3. Trevor

Three Things You Want to Do Before You Die:
1. Make a difference in someone's life (ie teach to read)
2. Take 2 months off & just travel (dive)
3. Let everyone I care about know that I care about them


That was harder than I thought. But, I'm glad I conformed and am bald-headed like all the rest of you.



peace




Sunday, January 09, 2005

HALLELUJAH!

(cue backup singers) Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

HALLELUJAH! HALLELU-U-U-UJAAAAHHHH!

Ok! My last post is still there! Don't know what I did to make it right. (Hopefully, I'm not speaking too soon.) This is my last NOT-a-test post. Yes, I'm using "Reverse Blogger Psychology".

peace

Friday, January 07, 2005

This is NOT a test.....

and just now it's occured to me to, maybe, SAVE this post to another file. So that when it gets eaten; I can just re-post it. Again & again. Until someone in that virtual palace in the sky with the big blinking neon sign that says, "Blogger" sends out a memo to all the Blogger administrative staff that reads, "Post it already! This bitch is driving me crazy!"

With that said; I've cleaned up my computer this past week to within an inch of it's life. Just short of re-formatting the hard drive. And I'm on Mozilla Firefox now. Maybe that will solve all my posting problems. I'd like to blame it all on Blogger. Just 'cause it seems to be the "in" thing to do. And I was never one that liked to be out-of-the-loop.

____________


I've written several posts last couple of weeks. Some appeared for a day or so. Some never appeared at all. I didn't have the foresight to save so I could re-post. Not even after I had lost 3-4 posts. And didn't have the motivation to regurgitate everything I had written AGAIN. The third time around just doesn't come off the same. I'm much smarter now.

____________

Happy New Year!!!! I said it a week ago. Sorry you missed it.

____________

I don't need a man. I have the "New Edition" PlayStation 2. I am all powerful. I can kill zombies & demon-dogs with a golf club (I found the club on a subway train. You subway train riders should pay more attention!).

____________

Also, something very funny happened at work where I got to kick someone out. I won't go into detail now since I don't even know if this will show.

peace

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Testing...again

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