perfect

my life has reached impressive depressing new depths.

first i have come to take serious pride in guessing portions correctly. that is to say that as a part of my kitchen job i have to portion the lettuce mixes into individual bags. and when i free hand exactly 3 oz of mixed field greens its like scoring the winning touchdown, or something else comparable and infinitely cooler than portioning. the issue is that after 3 hours in a walk in refrigerator 2.7 oz, 3.0 oz and 6 lbs of lettuce all feel about the same to the frozen blocks attached to the ends of my arms.

also about five minutes ago i was upstairs in my roommates* room borrowing his tweezers because my eyebrows looked like christmas garland that had not been fluffed correctly. well the roomie's got quite an eye for the art, and needless to say that the decorative coral he has on his sink counter is now buried into my forearm. which is in fact bleeding.

lastly my pandora station is called country pop.

feel free to judge.

oh and how embarrassing is it going to be if i dont get into the school im telling everyone im going to, ugh lets hope that doesnt happen just for the blogs sake you know.

*the side here is that i moved out of my parents house because im a grown ass woman capable of taking care of herself

farms

oh do you know what i totally forgot to talk about in that last entry, food. i mean yeah i did talk about the restaurant and like me making food at it, but that is not at all what i am referencing right now. heres the thing, so my mother is one of those liberal jews of the middle class. where i am going with this story will work significantly better if you have some moderate understanding of this type of person. if you dont i will try my best to explain just a little bit. understand that first my mother truly believes that in order to be successful in life one must be a good person. ok, now i know that sounds normal and your mother probably believes it too or whatever. but look a little deeper, ok. what she literally means by that statement is that to survive all you need is to be a good person. i would say that this woman probably makes less money a year than i do, which is assuredly not saying much at all. but she does work at a high school for student who are mentally and physically handicapped. that is to say, she does something good. now the fact that my father slaves at some job i couldnt even tell you the slightest about, to provide for us, is something she does not factor into the equation. in her mind she lives off of being a good person. is any of this making sense? i hope that is it.

so understanding her mentality, or i suppose her sentimentality, i think it should make sense to everyone that a large concern of hers is this here world of ours. her big thing as of late has been going green in whatever way possible. being of a slightly younger generation i think i already intrinsically do a lot of these things, you know reusable grocery bags type shit. but for her she really has changed a lot of the way she lives her life to do these things. for example she is trying to trade in her car to get a hybrid, and wants to rip up our flooring so we can have something more economical (this by the way includes our driveway which she imagines she will cover in gravel because its absorbs water or something that didnt exactly make that much sense).

ok so we are finally getting to my point. now me being as concerned with food as i am, i have been doing some reading on factory farming and the likes. and whatever, change has to start somewhere right? so barb and i have decided that we are going to start buying all of our meat, dairy and produce locally. the thing is, though we may not be wealthy, we are of a certain "class" or i suppose a more politically correct way to phrase that would be that we have a certain level of education. one that has shown us the truth, one in which we cant continue to deny our awareness of. and we have the funds to buy our food in this conscious way. clearly i dont have an answer for how we are simultaneously meant to solve world hunger, and start to really regulate and perhaps disassemble factory farms, but being the good person barb has raised me to be, i know i dont want to continue to be a part of the problem.

bang zoom

ok so lets see...

it's november 28th, not counting thanksgiving which was my "free pass", i have successfully made it to this day sober. this of course means i only have 2 days left, which will clearly not be a problem. now what i could see people taking issue with is the fact that i got a free pass, and rightfully so. i mean that is kind of bullshit. but that being said i had made it 25 days, which is like over a month in business days.

other things that have happened...

whilst in florida i started playing a little bit of tennis again. it has been three years. this fact was only further driven home today when i was hitting with nicole when she decided to look to see when the last time my racquet was strung, which was apparently sometime in 2006. that is not a good sign. however, i am hitting pretty well for taking such a long break, so thats nice.

lastly, and moderately important, i have started working in the kitchen finally. approximately twice a week i make southwest american salads, and plate appetizers as well as desserts. little known fact about myself, but i do not speak spanish. in some ways this has become quite a barrier in a kitchen in which i am the lone monolingual speaker of the english variety. i dont imagine my work associates were too thrilled with this gringa when she melted an entire gallon of garlic butter directly into the open refrigerator where we keep our chilled salad bowls. luckily for me i couldnt understand all of the shit i can only assume was being talked about me.

also on a work related note, it has come to my attention yet again that smiling and i are at odds. both in the kitchen and serving, it appears that my hospitality is of a marginal rating. thankfully my higher ups have noticed i may not be alone, and have created "hospitality 2010". what i can only imagine will be an amazing 2 hours of my life. this seminar, i truly believe, will take me to a place beyond outstanding. dont worry, i think it would be safe to assume i will have things to comment on about this, so you can be looking for that on tuesday.

anywho thats probably all for now. i need to shower the tennis off of me.

princess amelia

back from my floridian vacation and nine whole days sober. barb better be getting her checkbook ready.

day 3

over and done with.

day 2

besides the hysterical pregnancy/allergic reaction i had at work that almost killed me, things are going well, no physical withdrawal symptoms yet.

30 days

today is the first day of no drink november. good luck to me.

not fun

praying on my unfortunate compulsive disorders my mother told me the cats may or may not have fleas. so instead of going on tonight, the one night i have off this week, i will instead be washing everything i own that fits into our washing machine.

oh no

today, whilst shopping with barb (read: mommy) for her birthday, our lovely j. crew attendant asked in honest sincerity if we were sisters. clearly barb was living for this. clearly my rapid aging is tailspinning out of control.

shoes4crews

will someone please remind me to buy new work shoes, because i think they are only slip resistant if they have a sole, and clearly mine do not.

october

not being able to drive is boring.

everyone at work has a pneumonia, they clearly got it from me. i hope they arent mad.

i may still be drunk, although that is a little surprising because its been several, several hours since i had a drink. that being said i may be having one of my autistic/sensory momentary issues right now whilst gleeking out to kristin chenoweths latest conquest.

but on the real for real october is totally my favorite. this month smells amazing. think about it. not only just the smell, its the ren fair, the pumpkin patches, haunted hayrides and apple picking. not to mention the fucking greatest non jewish holiday ever. plus i get to wear lots of fun layers.

a

court

ugh my hair looks almost too good to nap today, but seeing as i just got back from court and my license has been suspended i dont really have a lot of options.

court is an awful place. also do not bring your mother. especially if in a previous life she was a lawyer (read: 10 years ago) because you had better believe that when things start going south for you somewhere deep within the pews of well dressed miscreants will come a, "your honor" followed by "im her mother, may i?"

thats when i blacked out. suffice to say it didn't help anything, and everyone now just knows that barb and i are "those people" you know the "well to do jews" who think they can just saw a few fancy words and walk away scott free.

either way i maintain the light was yellow and that i wasnt that drunk.

anne

changes

ugh im 22. aging isnt for sissies, as my grandmother would say. luckily for me in her infinite depression she has been able to spare a few minutes to spread her negativity to me on my birthday. as i lay there on my blow up mattress hovering mere inches off the hardwood floor i listened to how the golden years are comprised of death and boredom. i realized i may not be getting out of this bed, as assuredly my bones had weakened, and my joints cemented shut irreparably whilst sleeping and my 21 rolling ahead a digit. miracles of miracles somehow 22 doesnt feel too different from 21. however i did have one of my meltdowns, or epiphanies depending on how well you know and or like me.

in the last two days i have dropped out of school (again) pending paperwork - but everyone knows i am white enough to be a wizard at all things involving red tape and bureaucracy - and have begun the application process at two culinary schools. one here in the great state of new york, the other in the second city. big life changes shouldnt be given too much thought. everyone knows that.

but like seriously who really knows whats going on.

a

ps imagine being my parents...i know right

tonight

first performance. ever. nervous.

drama

someone has stolen my magical elixir, my pheonix tear-drops, my ghb!

before i left the apartment this afternoon i dripped a few priceless drops of colloidal silver into my pink ridden eye and went out for a quite lovely afternoon of park walking and movie watching with people who are smarter than me. when i returned to my extreme dismay my beloved drops had been removed by someone. i can only think of two people who might have done this. and i live with both of them. i am of the opinion one is more likely than the other. this does not leave me pleased. instead of ranting i will now post a bit of information on colloidal silver that i researched on wikipedia, because wikipedia is the only form of research someone of my temperament would do to know they had reached the final, and truest conclusion.

"It is illegal in the U.S. and Australia for marketers to make claims of medical effectiveness for colloidal silver, but some websites still list its use for the prevention of colds and flu, and the treatment of more serious conditions such as diabetes, cancer, chronic fatigue syndrome, HIV/AIDS, and tuberculosis, among other diseases.^[13][14] There is no medical evidence that colloidal silver is effective for any of these claimed indications."

as you can no doubt tell it is imperative that i get my medicine back or my illnesses* will never be cured.

a

*note the plural - as has long been suspected i have confirmed with myself that i do in fact have chronic fatigue syndrome

well

i have pink eye. the origins of which are shady. being an adult is hard. also i might not actually be an adult. i accepted medication from a friend on the street at midnight in a vile with a dropper. i asked how big it would be and if i could fit it in my pocket. he said dont worry it just looks like a vile of g. i said oh awesome. then i realized it's probably not necessarily that awesome if i walk into a bar with a suspicious vile of clear liquid with a dropper and no label that most closely resembles the date rape drug. luckily i dont mind taking a gamble here and there (obviously, reference: pink eye) and things worked out just fine.

a

starbucksburg

hello friends, i'm writing to you today from my neighborhood starbucks (also known as the place in which i receive internet access from for a monthly fee). when i moved here i bought myself instant coffee because i was being thrifty. now i spend $2.60 every single day on a grande iced coffee with skim milk. im honestly not even sure if i like this drink or not, but its only $2.60 and that's including tax. as you may have noticed i don't really have a theme for this posting. i just kind of wanted to write something. also the bathroom is on the fritz again. so basically being in my apartment becomes inconvenient occasionally. whereas starbucks allows patrons and passers-by alike to use their facilities. this is another reason i always buy coffee. i feel badly about using starbucks as an extension of my living space. i probably shouldn't feel bad, i mean i do pay to use the internet here already, and they really don't care that the bathroom is a free for all, but i definitely do come here with my morning hair. for those of you that have been subjected to morning hair you know that this is not a pretty thing. this is a thing to be feared. unfortunately after knowing one another for approximately two years (one of which we were forced into tight living conditions) leore finally came face to face with morning hair one muggy july afternoon whilst bobby and i were making a subway (eat fresh) run in gramercy. there was pure terror in her eyes, and this is someone who will be a part of my bridal party. imagine how my baristas must feel. that and i generally pay them in loose change.

thats probably enough for now. oh if you were reading to check up on me and my job situation i have two fake internships. don't ask, i don't have answers. all i know is that nothing is going on my resume after the summer is over.

a

i have a

so ive been holding something back from you my loyal online fan-base (becca, mrs bowden and brandons grandmother). i have a dream. yes, unfortunately like the rest of middle class america, i was raised to believe i can do or be anything that i might want to. thanks mom. point being, ive always wanted to be a stand up comedian. a female comic. a waitress with a college degree who bi weekly embarrasses herself at open mic nights more or less. of course my mother stands behind me.

im not yet the college graduate i just promised, but i am living out an abbreviated version of what i imagine life will be like 2 years hence, only now i have the added protection of going home at the end of august. and well eventually dreams either come to fruition or are forgotten in the light of day, much like their sleep-time namesake. ive been hitting the open mic circuit this last week to get a feel for the scene, and while i still havent successfully written a joke yet i feel confident that i can bomb with the best of them.

i am going to get up at least once this summer, hopefully not throw up and hopefully make someone other than bobby laugh.

thats about it.

anne

well that didnt last long

they sold the magazine

so now i guess this is the secret diaries of a poor unemployed jewess

nyc

sometimes in the face of endless possibilities the best thing to do is lounge in bed without showering

new

the toilet is on the fritz again

brandon keeps sending my office faxes that say "i love anne"

i am poor

but on the plus side i am the best looking girl in my office of all gay men

a

am yisrael chai

its one year to the day that i got back from israel, and god has released a torrential downpour upon the city of new york to show his fury.

new york new york

the problem is that i don't have internet in my swanky new manhattan apartment.  but what i do have is a whole new set of crazy scenarios to discuss.  i promise to do better, so i can tell you about things like showering with my 19 year old gay roommate after we sopped up pee all over our bathroom floor, or why canada is clueless, maybe even feature a few of my favorite new chow spots.

until then

a

thought

have you ever noticed that your first shower after jail really gives you a new lease on life

a

on the real

all i really ever want out of another human being is a pair of shorts when i inconveniently decide to stay the night at their house

and i mean for keepsies 

nyc

it would be so much easier to get a job in new york if kristen chenoweth would stop taking them all

family

who would have ever guessed, eh

ugh

i forgot to today was easter.  i have to work tonight.  we get our uniforms pressed before every shift.  my cleaners are not open.  fml

hades

so lets talk about yesterday shall we.

i was in new york for the day, and before i left a friend and i went out for dinner.  we went to a very subpar thai restaurant.  subpar enough that we half expected, and got our hearts set on, them presenting us with fortune cookies at the end.  they did not.  but being the wily, young cats that we are we walked up the street to noodles 28 (b.c. shout out) and the woman at the door was kind enough to supply us with our fortunes.  perfect.  

mine read: be prepared for the unexpected

my friend and i analyzed our fortunes and decided that in reality they were last weeks.  that mine was in reference to having to be prepared to find an apartment if things fell through with current plans.  so i tucked the little slip into my back pocket and forgot about it.

i must have ticked off the fates something woeful in brushing off my fortune, because they decided to rain down on me with the full might of their wrath.  the rest of the night looked something like this:

giving myself a good hour i leave the apartment i was staying at on the UES to head into chinatown to catch my bus.  i grabbed a cab and told the driver 3 pike street.  he took me to perk something street.  15 minutes before check in at the bus.  then he asked me to look up where we were going on the map in the back.  like that was happening.  after he made a few phone calls we luckily managed to find the location.

whew!  things should be fine now, i honestly thought that i actually had prepared in advance by booking megabus both to and from new york.  on the way there it was great, a totally reputable company, on time, double decker bus, wi-fi, you know the works.  well, did you know that megabus contracts out the eastern, aka chinatown, bus line?  i did not.  

upon arriving at the "station" (chinese foot reflexology, massage and spa) i showed the two women checking people in my printed reservation sheet.  when i booked my tickets i just went ahead and got roundtrip fare.  it seemed to make sense.  god am i stupid.  it took both women over 15 minutes to figure out that i was not trying to trick them.  they were absolutely convinced that i was trying to use yesterdays reservation to board this bus.  you know the one that says april 10th from dc to new york, and the one that is also located directly above the one that says april 11th from new york to dc.  with two different reservation codes.  things did eventually work out and i got on the bus.  i was one of three people on the bus, the other two were trying to go to baltimore, a location in which we were not going.  after i sat down the bus driver asked me if i could help move up the two seats in my row so he could clean up the vomit in the seats behind me.  oh god!

the bus driver agreed to drop the baltimore boys off at penn station so they could catch a different bus, and you know so he could get a sabrett hot dog.  whatever, so we were off.  i turned on my ipod, balled up my sweatpants and rested my head against the window.  finally a little rest.  it was a rainy, depressive sort of day and a little time to reflect would just be so nice.  thats when the driver stopped, in the left lane mind you, to turn on a will smith movie.  will smith.  not perfect.  seven pounds to be exact.  listen i dont want to give away anything if you were planning on seeing this thrilling film, but you werent so i dont feel badly.  he kills himself with a jellyfish in a tub full of ice.  i did not make that up.  i had to stay awake to watch that shit.

thank the dear lord it finally ended.  headphones back in, head back rested, two hours left, time for a napperoo.  oh no, no, no, no.  they popped another film in, all of the previews were tyler perry movies.  great a tyler perry movie.  wrong.  a tyler perry musical, stage play that was filmed.  the marriage counselor.  so absolutely beyond not perfect.  not only that but it was so fucking loud that i literally could not drown out the sound with my ipod volume on full blast.  i got so upset i tried to call a couple of friends, but i could not even hear them over the film.  my mother called me and just started laughing.  great im glad she was enjoying it.  i was actually having a panic attack i think.  

thank god i saw dc looming on the horizon.  wrong it was baltimore.  what the fuck.  i actually had to give up on trying to avoid this god awful film and gave into it.  we ended up pulling into dc before it was over, but im pretty sure it ends with the main character getting aids.  thats uplifting. 

when i got to dc i had planned on meeting up with some friends at a favorite bar.  well too bad they were still in virginia.  so i decided to walk up to starbucks to wait a while for them to get there.  oh no seating.  what the fuck.  then i wandered the streets with my blue, puma duffle and tall cappuccino.  too bad dcs chinatown is literally 4 city blocks, shaped like a plus sign.  how horrible and tragic.  i was that dreary, bleary, sad little girl walking back and forth up the same 4 blocks alone, texting a friend about my situation.  i also needed to apply some deodorant.  things were going horribly.  luckily from the street i could see that this woman was getting up from her seat at starbucks, i was on the phone at the time and i said "great i am going to go get this table this woman just left" when all of the sudden this man shoved me, walked into starbucks and took the table.  you have got to be kidding.  someone else ended up getting up also so i took their seat, but still seriously sir.  

that lasted about 4 minutes when one of the friendly dc baristas told me they were closing.  ugh ugh ugh.  i grabbed a cab and headed over towards the bar we were meeting at.   they still hadnt left virginia.  i figured i would just sit at the late night mcdonalds.  no just kidding, it was closed because of a brawl, the doors were locked and inside were about 6 cops and a man with bandages around his head.  great, way to get into a fight right now.  i was absolutely refusing to go into this bar alone and with luggage, but finally i gave in.  i wish i hadnt, everyone kept staring at me.  the bartender was just kind of offended.  so now picture this.  im drinking alone at a crowded bar, its 1230 in the morning and i still have my sunglasses with me, as well as a duffle bag.  things are going so well in my life.

finally my friends showed up and i dropped my things in their car.  somehow the night drew to a close with me still having all of my appendages and at home, but let this harrowing tale be a warning to you - heed your fortune, its true!

the grand fml

last night in my stupor i went to set down my favorite ring on the sink counter.  you know the one, its a white gold class ring from my high school, with real diamonds...i mean its not mine necessarily and the graduation date is off by 2 years, but i love love love it.  well guess what the latest accessory to be added to my pipe system is.

fml3

while playing with my hair in class today that same professor said "yes elizabeth do you have a question?"  my name is anne.

fml2

in response to an essay question i filled out for a midterm my professor wrote, "no"

fml

while brushing my teeth in the shower this morning, i noticed my toothbrush had the faint aroma of mold.

movin on up

im sitting on campus eating a horrible sandwich right now.  i made it myself.  i dont even understand what happened to me this morning.

i almost dont want tell you whats on it, but its so terrible its funny.  

2 slices generic imitation-wheat white bread

wegmans brand hard salami

wegmans brand deli sliced swiss

plochmans yellow mustard

- and the kicker -

miracle whip

i mean seriously this sandwich was god awful, but not even that can keep my spirits down because IT has happened. 

what IT is this zealously capitalized it i speak of you ask

well after months of badgering anyone who would listen to me kvetch about how i should be a coach and shift-leader at work, i have finally been approached with step one: “the coaches passport”.  i KNEW they needed me.  how could I possibly be a  regular server.  im honestly just surprised that the restaurant was able to function thus far without me in a position of nominal power.  dear washingtonian, thanks for rating us #99 out of 100 best this year - we’re coming for you next year with me at the helm.  i already know that im going to look back on the days when i was “one of them” and think - “that was so long ago, i dont even remember what its like to be so regular” and then me and all of my other friends (presumably upper management) will laugh and go to our secret shift leaders fort in the labyrinth of garage level b1.

two notes:

1.)  approached might not be the accurate term for “shannon can i please be a coach please please?” and “i guess anne”

2.) i dont feel like filling out this passport, its kind of absurd and i really do only work like 2 days a week - maybe this is why they kept saying no to me.  i have to list all of my positive and negative attributes as an employee and human being, then come up with “strategies” on how to solve my deepest seeded issues.  i also have to do a follow shift.  which means that a server who is training and being followed by a coach will also be being followed by me.  

 

this is what that looks like to the diner: server, back-up server, back-up back-up server all peering over their table and discussing loudly the things they did wrong and could have done better.  way to instill confidence in your patrons.

as there often is: the silver lining

BLACK CHERRY CITRUS FRESCA

so fresh

if you have ever wondered to yourself

“how does a person like me become best friends with anne?”

i will give you a little hint today.

1.) get ahold of my address

2.) mail me something like this:

heres a close up on that

thats right! and i got 2 of them!

LUCKY!

3.) also note the creative name addressing.  unique flourishes like this will set you apart from the throngs of others currently invested in being my pen pal.

edit out would of course be the address itself (you gotta work for that!)

there might even be the chance i take pictures of it and post it online, like this here “gift” i received from one brandon w. p.  what a true friend.   

as a matter of fact brandon is basically a wizard when it comes to mailing me things,

other interesting gifts:

a broken plastic dolphin figurine stolen from an office mate

one size 12 womens black pleather and rhinestone mule, also stolen from office mate

and so on in this fashion.

chronicle of a drunk foretold

WARNING: graphic content!


after going out with some friends and perhaps imbibing a small amount of what we will refer to as"booze" last night, i came home and was preparing for bed.  i turned the lights off and was trying to navigate my way to the bed in the dark.  when wouldnt you know it but i sliced my toe on an opened drawer.  thats normal.  ughh it was bleeding everywhere, and its like the band-aids are two whole floors above me you know.  anyways long story short i wake up to this...

that would be my left foot in a sock (unpictured: my bare right foot).  if you look carefully enough you might notice that the sock looks a little bulky around the pinky toe.  well that would be because...

during my stupor i decided that instead of making the trek up the staggering two sets of staircases i would instead slather my toe in disinfectant and cloak it in toilet paper until it became...

a hardened cast of blood and bacitracin.  gross.

a little more gratuitous blood for you

moral of the story....

just go find the damn band-aids

anne

blaisin' saddles

top chefsicles (not like popsicles, more like chronicles):

well if that just wasnt the the most anti-climatic ending to a reality tv show ever

i guess its nice to see that richard finally won. its been a whole other season, but you finally pulled through bud.

hosea on the other hand, i mean i guess congratulations on figuring out how to slip through the cracks all the way to a W. youre going to need to teach me that one sometime, so far its really only landed me in the middle.

carla - a big hootie to you girl. til the end. ya done dc proud. ya done me proud.
stefan - i meannn...come on.


is it just me or does anyone still think its possible for jamie to win? you know some how pull through in the end. maybe at the reunion show. a nice surprise twist ending in which its revealed that hosea was smoking pot or something (hey he is from boulder) and they have to take his title, that like olympic snowboarder, and then they are just like "welllll, since he cant have it, come on up here jamie"

fingers crossed!




now heres a random smattering of text messages i received during the show:

"big surprise marcel and stefan. if he wins im going to stop watching the show" melissa 10:10pm

"ugh casey needs to shut the fuck up with the suggestions" melissa 10:23pm

"i hate top chef...HATE" leore 10:59

this morning i received: "hosea won...ugh blow me...he is such a bitch" samantha
this anger is spanning days!


ive yet to hear back from my west coast contingency, but boy when i do its going to be VIOLENT.

edit--west coast comments are in and boy was i right about that violence:
watch the drama unfold

"spoil it for me i dont care. the real thrill is watching the episode"
(i replied "hosea")
"are you fucking kidding me? i dont even want to watch now"
"thats the worst thing ive ever head. i should have known from the second he said his dad had cancer that he was going to win. people with dying family members always succeed on reality television"
"hosea is so terrible. his food often looked gross/boring and he clearly has a small penis because he is easily bullied and threatened by stefan when no one else is. i thought it this was a carla vs stefan finale for sure. god im seriously upset now" ericka

dont forget...these are text messages...


its going to a painful half year until next season.





ok sleeping it off

anne

overhaulin'

in honor of the new face lift ive decided to give my blog (suggestion courtesy ewg) i decided to make a challah bread pudding. i dont even like dessert. although ever since valentines day i cant get this craving for sugar to go away. so this is what its like to be a woman. wait a second...


and might i add i think both ventures were quite successful



(inquire within for recipe)



lastly as day 3 of "no tweeze '09" comes to a close things are getting a bit hairy*:



what is a poor girl to do?
well for one i wrote my mother a note explaining why i needed her to purchase me new tweezers. 1) because its not my fault they fell down the sink, if i had a drain stopper this never would have happened and since i live in her home im pretty sure that is her responsibility. and 2) does she really want me to feel ugly, my entire sense of self worth could go down the tubes*

* puns intended!

anyway i think im going to try to start doing daily updates, well at least bi-weekly. so you know, pencil me in.

- a

brooke shields

while getting ready for bed this evening i decided to do a little brow maintenance before another big day at school tomorrow (got to impress those patriots!). i keep my tweezers in the cabinet behind the mirror over my sink, so when i went to open it both my tweezers and mascara came tumbling out. no big deal right. the mascara just kind of fell into and rolled around in the basin of the sink. however the tweezers appeared to do a full twisting layout (i dont really know what those gymnastic terms mean) on their way to becoming completely vertical and falling straight down the drain. perfect. now im going to have groucho marx eyebrows because im too poor to do anything about it. life is hard.

back to basics

i picked up at work tonight to make a little extra dough before my chi-town spring break adventure

heres how that went for me:
i sliced open one of my fingers picking up broken shards of appetizer plates one of the other servers dropped (which i did not notice until i was back out on the floor walking through my row of tables and noticed my hand was wet) this resulted in me having to change bandaids approximately every twenty minutes as i would soak through them and the server standard finger condom became red from the inside out. during this period of time all of my tables were closed and i got blood all over my shirt. normal.

grabbed the credit card and receipt off of one of my neighbors tables to help him out, placed it in my serving book, forgot about it, ran a bunch of errands for another table, took dirty dishes back to the kitchen, ran food and went to the restroom. then was approached by another server who had been accosted by the table, who was horrified about the 10 minutes that had passed and the bitch of a server who was obviously stealing their credit card information in the bathroom.

averaged 16% tips for the night (of which we tip out 17% on our bills no matter what). imagine how bad some of them must have been assuming at least a few were actually 20%.

had a table of men who kept telling me i must have been having an exciting night because i had spilled some on my breasts and they would try not to stare, but it would be difficult and they would be watching me all night long. they also tipped me 16%. i guess my boobs arent that great.

was the last regular server there as the closers were already leaving because a table of two sitting in my section since 930 didnt think it necessary to get up at 1245. this is after we closed at midnight and they had paid already.

was denied being allowed to order food once done with all responsibilities, save cleaning above last table, because it makes the closers upset and its a rule.

then watched several other regular servers enjoying their meals, realizing i should have asked a different manager and that apparently "fanatical attention to consistency and detail" perhaps can have different meanings.



anyways, it did finally end. home at 230. perfect. all in all a success. at least i didnt spend money tonight.


anne

fair enough

hello dear friends,

oh and might i thank you for all the helpful advice you posted in the comment section on my last entry during my latest breakdown. now that my life has been all sorted out (read: same as before) and i am free of that burden i can move on to other topics.

such as, oh say the things that i have been doing on my break during school:

trying to get the spanish department to approve my "studies" in guatemala this summer

trying to get the religious studies department to approve my moving into the new century college

trying to get the math department to reevaluate a course i took at cu for credit

realizing that not a single person that i need to speak to is available - with the exception of the woman at cu who apparently read her job description upon being hired and has decided to do what it is she is being paid to

thinking about all of these new reasons in which i am horribly and utterly depressed about going to this community college university

enjoyed a delicious 90 calorie special k bar (strawberry flavor)

decided to do something productive - so i spent the amount of time i was supposed to be advancing my academic career before my most useless of my useless classes jewing out

jewing out in general could mean, oh just a plethora of things - from perhaps praying, to speaking hebrew, to making brisket, or finding the affikoman. in my particular case it included:

updating my birthright staff application for summer (im sure i have time to go to israel before i go to guatemala right)
signing up to (wo)man* the phones at the DCJCC this sunday afternoon for super sunday (please DO donate, please DO NOT stalk)
joining a jewish social networking site and selecting interesting groups to be a part of (adventurous eaters!)
trying to convince friends (lets be real, friend) to go see one of theater js productions this weekend
reserving myself a spot in a mission to dc to do a little zion friendly lobbying

oh and lastly, because i just had this absurd amount of time due to the ambivalence of the people supposedly helping me shape my future and ran out of jewish ideas (who knew that was possible) i created a loose itinerary for my impending spring break trip to chicago:

ive been to the windy city quite a few times, seeing as my mother is a native chicagoan - but my three friends have not. so ive taken it upon myself (this is me pretending that i wouldnt have listed and listen and listed had my friends been born at the top of the hancock) to put together the REAL chicago experience

i figure we'll hit the big things: shedd aquarium, second city, millennium park, pizza, dogs, architecture tour, walker bros, etc...

but what else? fun bars, restaurants, things to do? make me seem like a local whilst i carry around my oversized tourist camera and speak in a decidedly mid-atlantic lilt.
come on friends dont let me down, i know you can do it


CHICAGO! (well the part of it that didnt get cut off)



*i am not a feminist, this is in fact a joke

Anne

life - or something like it

do you think i should drop out of school (again) to pursue my life long dream of making sandwiches?

i think this would involve a dramatic move to the west coast

i havent decided if that means the pacific northwest or just california, but they both seem to fit the bill in my head

anyways, thoughts?

you ponder that - i think im going to go make myself a creative bread on the outside, fillings on the inside snackeroo

anatomy of a perfect sandwich

this particular first edition: The Classic Roast Beef & Swiss



(actual sammie)

to start:
toast 2 pieces (level 8) pepperidge farm family size white bread


side one:
mayo
on top of which apply a heavy layer of horseradish and freshly cracked back pepper (i kind of mixed mine around making a very simple sauce of sorts)
follow with 3 thinly sliced pieces of rare seasoned roast beef
add one large slice of a ripe tomato split in half, that has been salted and peppered to taste
next add red onion slices, cut into small enough pieces to break with the bite

side two:
a generous portion of nathans famous deli mustard
(good to know i can buy that in an 8 pack from amazon)
a thin to medium thickness slice of swiss

put together and slice on a diagonal





this is in fact what i do with my time
perfect

anne

mistakes

i lather rinse repeated today because i accidentally put shampoo in my hand when i meant to put conditioner.  while i recognize that it was probably bad for my hair i figured it was probably worse for the economy if i dumped it down the drain.  now my brittle hair is a constant reminder of how jewish i can be.

in other news i wasnt paying attention at work this evening and i brewed too much coffee to the point where it overflowed.  in order to stop the coffee from spilling out all over the stainless steel i had just polished i opted to try to stop it from brewing with my hands.  this resulted in molten coffee grinds covering my left thumb down my wrist, which then basically burst into flames.  its been about 2 hours and it burns so horribly bad still that i may or may not die.  i think i might actually be able to see it real time turn into a blister.  this was only one of about 12 awful mishaps i had tonight.  work is hard.