Monday, May 30, 2005

Hi. My name is Scarlett.

...And I'm only listening to half of what you're saying.


It's true. Besides being a Procrastinator; I am also a Scanner. I Scan when I read & I Scan when people are talking to me at work.

My idea of Scanning is when you cut out all the little words. Just read or listen to the big words to get the gist of what's going on. Anything over 3 letters. Sounds good, right? Not always. Sometimes those "and, if, but" 's make a lot of difference. But, I still can't break the habit. It's not something I do consciously.

I have been eating books as long as I can remember. I LOVE to read. And I think; in the interest of time; that I developed this habit of just scanning instead of reading every single word. This habit would eventually be patented by some woman whose name I cannot remember. It was deemed "Speed-Reading". If I had the time & really cared; I would look her name up.

I started young. "Green Eggs and Ham" was "Green Eggs Ham". Which to me meant that the Eggs were part of the Ham & not separate. Which changes the whole story. I think that's where my confusion about Life started.

Being a Bartender doesn't help. I have hundreds of conversations a week. A third of which are just wasted oxygen. I find more & more that I'm not really listening anymore. Tonight someone was telling me about a honey-flavored bourbon by Wild Turkey he had tried. I said, "Hmm. That sounds interesting. Who makes it?" He said, "Uhhh. Wild Turkey." All I originally heard was "Tried a honey-flavored bourbon". He thought I was an idiot. I didn't care. He had already paid.

I'm not proud I'm a Scanner; but sometimes it really does work for me. As far as the time factor is concerned. The whole story I heard at work the other day from a customer that lasted for about an hour worked out to: "Wife Neighbor Sex Caught Divorce". That's all I heard. Outside of hearing those 5 words; I used the other parts of that hour to multi-task. While nodding; of course. Other people need drinks; right? And I got the whole story. I think.

Fortunately, this bad trait hasn't slipped into my private life. As far as I know. Maybe I should call my friend Diana back and ask her if she said "slid up" or "slid off". Up & Off being 3 letters or less. Could be a big difference.


Thursday, May 26, 2005

You asked for it..

I am SO tired.

Free at last!

...Free at last!

Finished up my house-sitting job today. Bittersweet; it was. I really did fall for the two dogs I was watching. I'm so use to the purebreds I watch being incredibly temperamental & high maintenance; I wasn't prepared to fall for these two. I won't bore you with sickenly sweet stories about them; but I do have to tell you the one thing that really got to me. Every time I would speak to them; they would stop, look at me, & cock their heads to one side. Like they were hanging on every word I was saying. Kinda cool. I wasn't going to house-sit anymore; but I will definitely for them. The down-side; as with all house-sitting jobs; is that it's very hard to entertain yourself in someone else's house. You can watch TV & that's about it. Well, I guess you can do more. But, I'm not a "searcher". I don't go through drawers & closets. Which is one of the reasons why I have a good reputation as a house-sitter & get all the cool house-sitting jobs. Which I'm not taking anymore except for this one. This house does have an awesome heated pool that I totally took advantage of all last weekend. She had shown me the liquor cabinet & told me to help myself. And invite friends. I invited a couple, but we didn't do too much damage. Because, really, there was no way to damage that liquor cabinet. Unless we had been a party of 100. I was impressed.


So, I've been thinking about Karma. I truly believe that what goes around; comes around. If you cause someone to hurt; it will come back to you. Threefold, as some people believe. I've been thinking about it so much; I've created this paradox in my mind about it.

If someone is causing you to hurt in the first place; isn't it because (within the laws of Karma) you caused someone hurt before? See what I'm saying? People are so quick to say, "Well, Karma will get him for what he did to me!" when actually; maybe the hurt they are feeling is because Karma is coming back on them? For something they did?

I use to feel some sort of comfort in the whole Karma thing. Like each wrong I felt I had experienced at the hands of someone else would be righted eventually. I may not be there to see it; but I knew it would happen. I still believe that; but what did I do to someone else to experience the hurt in the first place? What wrong was I paying back for?

....Food for thought.


Saturday, May 21, 2005

A Fool & his money.....

blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, 5$ to anyone that witnessed "Big Boob" Amy knocking me down on the dance floor last night. I have a huge knot on my head & I may sue. Her left boob at the very least. I should get enough money out of that to keep me comfortable for a while. Most of you don't know Amy, but, one of her boobs is like the same size as my head. And her whole body knocked me down. I brought it up this morning to my friend, Carl, & he said, "Yeah. I remember that. It was funny."


So, since my head hurt so much this morning, what with, all the GM, beer, & busty-women attacks; I decided to put the hurt somewhere else. (By the way; this was my first night blowing it out PTG {Post That Guy}. Give me a break!) My nose. Because it's there. The whole Mohammed & the mountain thing. I pierced my nose shortly before I left St. Croix & took the stud out when I moved here because I thought I couldn't get a job with it in. Little did I know that everyone & his proverbial brother had SOMETHING showing. Piercing, tattoo; whatever. I hadn't thought about it again until this morning. I woke up with the idea that I had to pierce my nose again. Just had to.

I called around & found a place close by. Showed up. It was cool. Except for that 65 year old chick tattooing the guy in the corner. She was scary. Meaning; I was afraid. I was afraid she might kick my ass if I moved wrong. Fortunately, "Peggy" was my girl. I sit in Peggy's chair & she says, "So, when did you decide to pierce your nose?". I said, "About an hour ago". Peggy gets all philosophical telling me how piercings have MEANINGS & I should be sure & an hour is not enough time to think about it, etc... I said, "I paid you already, right?"


And about Peggy. She's a very cute girl. She has Daisy tattoos behind each ear. I don't get that. I have two tattoos & they are both very personal to me. I thought long & hard before each one. One is a peace sign with a rose that I got on the 10th anniversary of John Lennon's death. That's on my right hip. The other is a dolphin on my left hip. I'm a SCUBA diver & love dolphins. I just don't get what the thought process is behind getting daisy's tattooed behind your ears. Whatever. I'm sure it's a fascinating story. sic


I had forgotten that when you get your nose pierced, you can see it out of the inside corner of your eye. And you want to swat at it. Like there's a fly on your nose. I'm so going to be that crossed-eyed chick with the cool stud in her nose.


Wednesday, May 18, 2005

My parents had a really cool Golden Retriever named Sandy for about 12 years. (God Bless His Soul.) Sandy was such a sweetheart; but did some really odd things sometimes. Every Christmas, Dad would put a tree on the end of the dock with lights on it. Not those little wannabe lights. The BIG lights. One year, Dad told me that Sandy had eaten some of the lights off the tree. That's right. He ATE them. And I thought, "Well, that's really stupid." That was years ago & I haven't had that thought again about anything a dog has done until this morning. When one of the dogs in the house I'm sitting ate half of a TV remote while I was in the shower. Ordinarily, I would feel bad if someone's property was damaged while in my care. But, in ALL the instructions I was given; never once did anyone say, "And don't leave those remotes lying around because that's just an accident waiting to happen!".


I looked at a place this morning that may actually work for me. I went in knowing the guy was asking only $1150/month. It's a 2Br & that's really low for the area. Upgraded appliances. Cute patio. The only thing I can think is that something really tragic happened there. Would it be weird if I asked to spend the night in it before committing to a year's lease? I just want to make sure drawers don't open by themselves, etc. One of the house's I sit has a resident ghost; & that's OK for a week or two. I couldn't actually live there.


Lot's of good parties coming up with it being spring and all. Therefore; lot's of things to look forward to. I've had a couple of down moments (they were MERE moments) thinking about That Guy; but the very next moment was spent remembering how bad he dicked me over. Isn't it strange how easy it is to forget the bad stuff. Even for just a moment?


Speaking of dick. There is a guy that was a regular of mine at my old bar for about 5 years. I called him Dave because that's what I thought his name was. He's not very nice & VERY High Maintenance. He started coming to my new bar shortly after I started working there. After about a month; he said, "Ya know my name isn't Dave; it's Dick." All of a sudden, all the planets were aligned & everything in the world made sense. I just looked at him and said, "Of course it is".



Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Am I unknowingly participating in some form of S&M?

I'm already living out of a suitcase for a month or two. Well, 5 suitcases to be exact; but the concept is the same. Then I go and pick up a house-sitting job for 10 days which requires me to live out of a suitcase packed from yet another suitcase. I don't know why I didn't just cut to the chase & pull my eyelashes out one by one. With dysfunctional tweezers.

The job itself is easy. The people I'm sitting for are renovating their house & have rented a house around the corner in the meantime. The house being fixed up (House A) is all set up for dogs (doggy-doors, etc). All I'm required to do is drop off the two dogs at House A in the morning & then pick them up after work & take them to the rental (House B) to spend the night. After an hour of playtime in the pool. These dogs love to swim. I mean; they LOVE to swim. About 1,047 "tennis-ball-throws" worth. "Lady" doesn't do the ordinary go-fetch-the-ball thing. She'll sometimes get in the pool first & wait for you to throw the ball. She'll just swim in circles 'til you do. I didn't know that about her until my friend Chris pointed it out to me. I don't know how long she'd been in the pool just swimming in circles. I wish they had told me about this. I think the dog would freakin' drown herself if a ball didn't show up.

Anyway, I guess I'm just stressed because now I feel like I have stuff everywhere. Storage plus 2 houses. I could definitely tell you where my purse, keys, sunglasses, car, & cell phone are right now. Everything else is kinda hazy.


$1 for a good joke right now. Preferably one I can tell at my bar. (Semi-dirty)


Friday, May 13, 2005


Exactly one year ago today, I sat down at my computer & thought that I may have one or two things to say. I didn't think anyone would actually CARE about what I had to say; but I was going to say it anyway. And so it goes....


Happy Birthday, Dear Blog. You've served your purpose & then some.

(Is it weird that today is Friday the 13th?)

I need a cocktail. No; seriously. I NEED a COCKTAIL!

I mean, I serve you people drinks all day. What's a girl gotta do to get a little reciprocation?? Do I have to go to a bar? That doesn't seem fair. Someone should be serving me cocktails right here in my house!

And let's take a look at the word "Cocktail". I don't know where it came from. How it was derived. I've known a few pricks in my time; but none of them had a tail (I'm thinking Satan).


Ok. I looked it up. There are a lot of stories. My two favorites come from Here. As follows:

"Betsy, a barmaid in a tavern in Hall's Corners, NY, served Betsy's Bracers. During the Revolutionary War, American & French soldiers frequented it. American soldiers stole some male pheasants from the British & a wild party was had. While drinking they toasted to Betsy's drink "Here's to the divine liquor which is as delicious to the palate, as the cock's tails are beautiful to the eye." To which a French officer replied, "Vive le cocktail!". There is reference to a Betsy Flanagan. Who knows which Betsy, was Betsy Flanagan. One story goes something along the lines of decorating the out side of a glass with a tail feather from a rooster. Some say that this is where Washington and his officers frequented. Washington wore feathers in his hat, and one of his officers toasted to "the cock's tail". (Well, you wouldn't really want to drink "macaronis" today, would you?)

There is another tavern also In NY that claims it was the original. The tavern keeper used his witty stories, and daughter's beauty to gain favor with good patrons. The daughter, Peggy mixed a powerful concoction which recipe was held secret. She was in love with a sailor. Upon his return with a promotion, and a prized fighting cock, named Lightning, he asked for her hand. In their honeymoon bed, Lightning crowed, and shook loose a tail feather, which she put in his concoction that she had made. She said, "Lightning names this drink! Drink this cocktail, sir, to your success with my father, and as a pledge to our future happiness!" This was a sign of good fortune & they used the sign of the tail feather on their tavern emblem for many years to come.
A drink called "cock's ale" was served in early colonial times during cock fights. It was a mixture of ale into which a sack of a par-boiled chicken, raisons, mace and brown sugar was placed. This was left to ferment for about nine days."


Cool stories, but; whatever. Grand Marnier right here straight away please!


Thursday, May 12, 2005

"How was your move?"

A question asked of me today by a friend I've been playing tag with, well, forever. (Miss You!) My move was surreal; for lack of a better word. Now, I have moved ALOT and have always done it myself with help from my friends, and more often than not; DAD. (Cecil, I know you have to have had flashbacks every now & again.)

So, since my last move 4 years ago was too fresh in my memory; I decided to hire movers. I'm a bartender. I have contacts. I can get anything done. Anything from a free oil change to getting someone knocked off. (How sad is THAT?)

I use one of my connections & he sets up the whole thing for me. $370 bucks to move me lock, stock, & loaded barrel. I was amazed. I had made some phone calls & had been quoted some pretty crazy prices (in my opinion). I called "Two Guys & a Truck" thinking: "They're 2 guys with a truck. How much can it be?". $145/hour with a 4 hour minimum. I envision myself tracking down the poor mover guy trying to get his penis out to take a pee with me screaming, "Hold it in, Dude! You've got boxes to move! Time is money!".

I commit to my "friends friend" & think everything is just going to be perfect. I'm packing like a madman. I am going to make this incredibly easy for the movers. EVERYTHING will be in a box. And I won't be cruel by packing heavy stuff in big boxes. I'll use smaller boxes. My friend had asked me how many boxes I may have & I said, "Hmmmmm.....30!" I had no fucking clue how many boxes I would have. I had been quoted a flat rate & wasn't even thinking about it. I just didn't want any of the movers to get a hernia; so I packed light.

Turns out I have 68 boxes worth of stuff. I know this because Head Mover Guy counted as soon as he got to my apartment. And informed me that each additional box over 30 is $3 a box. And the fact that all my stuff is going into a storage unit on the 3rd floor of the storage unit place is going to cost 15% of the whole per floor multiplied by PI subtracting the life expectancy of a gnat and blah, blah, blah. Who the fuck knows what he was saying. I just know that I had been packing forever & just wanted it OVER. I have cloudy memories of just holding out my wallet & saying, "Just take what I owe you."

I paid just under $700. And was told by Head Mover Guy that he gave me a BIG break because I was a friend of D. Uh-huh. I no longer see D as a connection. He has lost all priveleges. You live & learn, I suppose.

I do have to say that it was cool not having to actually lift anything. And I had rented a 10 x10 climate control space. ($200/month in the DC area, FYI. OMG. I'm so in the wrong business.) They packed it solid. I can't get one more thing in it. Had it been me packing it; I would have had to rent a second one. So, I quess it was a half decent experience all-in-all.


I'm still learning my way around this computer that is so much more way cool than mine. I've just never worked with a laptop before. That has so much more power than my PC does. I actually feel like that "Power" chick named Kimberly! And my name is really Kimberly! There's some sick symmetry there; I'm sure.


Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Yeah, it's me.......

And I don't even know where to start. It's been a long road these last few weeks.


I believe I had just decided to move when I last left off. I'll put this mostly in a nut-shell as to not bore you all to a point where you're sticking bamboo shoots under your big toe nail.

I looked for a place to move to for a month. I'm willing to pay. What I'm offering for a 1 BR around here is very reasonable. And I have to say that it just slays me what people are trying to get away with when setting their rents. One particular condo I'm thinking of: $1,100/month. Ground floor; patio. Upgraded kitchen. My statement was: If I can charge the top-five biggest roaches rent; I can get away with only $500/month out-of-pocket! The "Renter" took offense. Bitch.

Anyway, it just went like that. I found myself damn-near homeless 'cause apparently I am very hard to please (I insist on very little dirt & very small roaches) until I asked my friend Carl if I could crash at his place for a month or two until I find something. Fortunately, he said "yes" & kept me from having the nervous breakdown I was so close to having. As I've mentioned before, I love Carl's house. It's one of the few places I can walk into; sit on the couch; and immediately fall asleep. I am incredibly comfortable here. Carl is the main reason his house is so comfortable. (Baby, I'm not just now saying this! Read back some!)

Carl is also the reason why I am back here. Just like me; I stored my computer without thinking. Carl has set up a really awesome laptop for me to use while I'm here.


On the relationship front....I was seeing the guy from last year that hung me out to dry. "Why?", you ask. Because I was stupid. I have no other defense. I was just plain fucking stupid. And I challenge you all. Because it's human nature to do really stupid things. Don't get all high & mighty like you never have. It pretty much played out like this:

1. Boy sucks Girl back in. He's accepting a local job & is moving here. "Ex" is no where in the picture.
2. Girl is really happy for a couple of months.
3. Boy tells Girl he only got back together with her because he was having problems with his g'friend. (they never broke up. things get complicated there.)
4. Boy may ask other girl to marry him.
5. Girl is incredibly sick of all the bullshit & makes a call to other girl.
6. Fortunately, other girl does not answer & Girl gets to just leave a message.
7. Other girl gets the message, calls Boy, & now Girl can be safe in the knowledge that she will never hear from Boy again (other than that one message telling her how she ruined his life.)

The moral of the story? You reap what you sow. And that's all.


I've really missed writing....


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