The end of the dailies

WEll, not really. If you've noticed I've stopped posting daily - which is sad, BUT I have not stopped entirely, I promise.

A certain person came back into town this week and he has been a little distracting. A little.

Day Seventy: On days off and things that annoy me

I have today off. So far, I have cuddled with my roommate and napped for six hours. I haven't cleaned the house or my room, I haven't done any more grad school research and I haven't eaten.

I have been thinking about things that annoy me. Ready?

1) Motherfuckers who aim to instill confidence only to immediately break trust when they've gleaned even an iota of goddamn gossip. Bitch, it wasn't even good gossip.

2)STINGY TIPPERS. Do you realize how much work goes into your food? This isn't fucking McDonalds,kids, we're not fucking drones. We all have rent to pay and we've all been on our feet for 5 fucking hours (At least) and we certainly do not want to bring you ANOTHER side of ranch but we WILL because we're chill like that and we're hoping for 20%. Now I see why Spain included the fucking tip, why leave this bullshit to chance.

3)Sober people. I don't mean all the time, obviously, there are times when I love sober people, there are even times when I AM a sober person. BUT, sober people when you are slightly or extremely intoxicated are just annoying - these are the same people who the next day are like HEY, do you remember when you fell of the barstool into the emu? FU.

Day Sixty-Nine: When is drunk too drunk?

The answer: when other people have to take care of you.

Day Sixty-Eight: On game days

Today is not a game day, not here anyway. Game days: days in which the Huskies are home and play anyone of the the other NCAA football teams; see also, days in which every employee at work commences running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Tomorrow? Game day. For the first time I will be serving instead of hostessing. At least I'm not stressed, you know, at all. Ha.

Day Sixty-Seven: Uh.

Welp, definitely woke up drunk today after a night of . . . shenanigans. Work was . . . fun?

Day Sixty-Six: That's All Folks!

You know what I did yesterday? I watched cartoons. With my roommates. With candy. And chips. And diet Coke. For serious, it was amazing. So. Much. Fun.

Daffy and Donald and Daisy. Foghorn Leghorn and Bugs. Sylvester, Tweety and ICABOD CRANE - holy shit, do you guys remember how terrifying that cartoon was as a child? It was scary even last night, surrounded by friends and TWENTY-TWO YEARS of knowing it isn't true - no wonder my eight year old self almost peed herself over that film.


ALSO, Mr.Seventy-Five and retired, being old does not give you the right to be creepy and tipping me well does not afford you the privilege of hitting on me. Gross, dude.

Day Sixty-Five: Off my game

I know, I KNOW. All of my posts have been work-related lately. Today's post was going to be too, I was going to go on and on and on about low-tip percentages and my aching back and the fact that I just can't seem to remember everything on my to-do list no matter how many times I check it. I was. Instead I give you: Listening.

I am listening to Mason Jennings a lot lately. I especially like his Darkness Between Fireflies annnnnnnd don't give me that 'of course you like him, you're a girl' bullshit. I like him because he has an odd voice and cool lyrics and if being a girl means I get to like cool ass dudes like Jennings than I'm glad I got the vag, kids.

This is not the song that I usually listen to on my walk to work (WORK!) but the music video is super legit (yes, I talk like that) and so I lend it to you:

Day Sixty-Four: Annnnnd, we're back.

Back to work that is.

You know what I like about work? My coworkers are crossword people and crossword people? We just get it. We know that it's never slow when you have a Shortz clue to figure out. There is never a customer mean enough or stingy enough to make my crossword less than perfectly enjoyable. Thank you, NY Times, thank you.

Day Sixty-Three: Hangover anyone?

UN RESACA BEYATCHES. I have one. Ugh.

Today is my only day off, ever, in the history of ever. I exaggerate, not. I'm going to live it up by nursing my hungover self with coffee and a little Lia-reconnection. Pretty flipping excited, yo.

Day Sixty-Two: Legit

I was supposed to be "hosting" tonight but I ended up full-on serving. I can't seem to get used to the fact that waitressing is unpredictable. One day you'll have a line out the door and round the block and the next you'll have one table and six bored-to-tears staffers. Odd.

Now, I drink.

Day Fifty-Nine, Sixty and Sixty-One: Missing posts?

You'll notice from time to time that I don't post every day, even though that is the promise I made. I'm struggling, right now, with finding what to write. This is not just a blog problem.

I recently set a goal: I would, this year, apply to grad school. I want to study Creative Writing at a top program and I want to earn my M.F.A. This goal requires that I complete 50 polished pages of creative writing. Maybe it's the stress of having a deadline, but I am suffering from the worst case of Writer's Block in recent memory.

I have maybe four stories going at once and every time I take one step forward with them I take about eight back.

The other, not so drastic, problem is that I am house sitting for my parents and they don't have wireless so my lap top is basically useless.

Anyways, enough with the excuse. Forward march.

Day Fifty-Eight: on writer's being stupid

There is a certain grain of stupidity that the writer of fiction can hardly do without, and this is the quality of having to stare, of not getting the point at once.
---Flannery O'Connor

Well, I certainly don't get the point but I'm happy to continue staring.

Day Fifty-Seven: Nightmare

I had a suffocating nightmare last night. Maybe it was just my fever coming back but fuck, no thank you.

Day Fifty-Six: Graduate School?

I'm still gonna do it. . . I think. But, I've been reviewing the admission requirements and it's just not in the cards kids. I've decided though, as long as I try I'll be okay settling for what I've got. It's the not trying that'll get you.

Day Fifty-Five: Is it possible to watch too much TV?

I took being sick very seriously. I have a job and my job isn't exactly rocket science but I still don't want to let anyone down by being consistently sick and out of it. So, when I made the decision to call in sick I made getting better my job. I'm still sick but I am better.

Ok, what does getting better have with too much TV?

Part of my getting-better-now regimen was not moving from the couch. Not moving from the couch meant watching TV for eight straight hours. AND, lest you mention it, I did try and read but, this drugged up girl could not follow a plot line if she was paid to do so.

Moral of the story: Eight hours of TV does not a happy Hanley make. I'm actually, and y'all should record this, I am actually excited to go into work tomorrow - just to shake up my effing day.

Day Fifty-Four: Real World Addiction

It's true: I once dreamed of being on the Real World. Admitting you have a problem is the first step. The real truth? I still want to be on the Real World.

Day Fifty-Three: On abysmal tv

Ok. I get it. You hooked me with the first few episodes so now you get to leave me hanging. . . Maybe you're letting your rookies come to bat or you just had a bad week but come on network television your loyal fans aren't stupid. We know a half-assed, mal-produced episode when we see it.

Supernatural, with your throwback to first season "breather" episode, I'm looking at you. You dragged the boys through hell and now your slamming them right back where they started. Also, reign Padalecki in. His melodramatic intakes of breath are melting my face.

CSI:NY, I'm hoping you just forgot to add the To Be Continued tag line and if you did I hope someone got fired. This weeks episode could have been shoved in to a five minute teaser. Also, the whole paralyzed but not plot line? It's getting old really fast. Forcing Danny and Lindsey to spend quality time together when they never had chemistry in the first place is just plain old boring. Danny was more fun when he was boning the neighbor out of guilt for killing her son.

I've been watching The Office and it's been cracking me up. It's not on my hit-list yet but it's teetering very near the edge of that beating a dead horse feeling you get from a lot of shows.

Scrubs should be over already. Finito.

NCIS: LA, I'm not sure why I'm watching you in the first place given that I never, ever got into NCIS oh except OMG! Chris O'Donnell! You're still boring though and if his face weren't so much fun to watch I'd be sinking into a nice, canned, reality show instead.

Day Fifty-Two: Sick.

Should be more like sick!!!!!!!!!! I am officially under the weather and not happy about it. Hear that sickness? Happy. NOT. Not happy.

Also, the question mark button on my keyboard is sticky. . . time to remove the computer from general use? I think so.

Day Fifty-One: Sick?

I am feeling the edges of a cold eating away at my energy. Must. Stay. Healthy.

Day Fifty: Happy 50th!

I made it 50 days posting!!!! Woo-hoo.

I. Went. Out. Woah. I actually got out of the house.

Last night, I met some coworkers at Finn's for a birthday celebration. I drank way more than I should of and I had a great time. In case you were wondering, Finn's is half-off everything on Sundays. Yes, it is impossible to not get drunk. The savings - they are irresistible. I'm not sure where I fit in at work yet but I really do enjoy the company of the people I work with and that? That is a good thing.

Day Forty-Nine: L'autobus

Todays post consists of me being lazy, taking the bus, drinking a STARBUCKS latte, not enjoying work, getting home, and going out.

I will elaborate.

Yesterday was one of the laziest days in recent memory. I did nothing. I was hungover and I sat on my bed and then later on the couch and I watched so much tv my eyes were literally rotting by the time I rolled back into my bed to fall asleep.
Today I woke up, determined to walk, discovered that it was cold as balls outside and saw the bus, took the bus. Was early to work.
I stopped at STARBUCKS. I like STARBUCKS. I like that their drinks are fast and tasty and consistent. I like their logo and I like their stores. I LIKE STARBUCKS. God, how un-indie of me. Woops.
Work was tough today. The boss was on a tear. He is the boss so he is allowed to be picky but after awhile I just felt run-down. I really couldn't do anything quite right. I learned a lot about what he expects and he has good reasons, still after mopping the floor for an eighth time I kind of felt like freaking out.
I got home, I napped, it was glorious.
Now? Now I go out.

Day Forty-Eight: Lazing about

Our house survived the party and today? Today we do nothing.

I had fun and I know that my roommates had fun (and that's important) but I still don't like being a host, not really. I don't like wondering when people are going to leave so that I can go to sleep. I don't like worrying about whether people have enough to do and who is spilling what where. I'd much rather meet a bunch of people at a bar, but maybe that's just me being "old".

Day: Forty-Seven: Kegger????

Ok, so I'm more than a little drunk and more than a few of the people here are a little drunk.


I don't know whether I'm feeling déjà vu or what seeing all these people I lived with and drank with and made mistakes with while living in Spain. . . . Whatever I'm feeling it's making the room spin.

Day Forty-Six: Bad day

Welp. We all have bad days. Today is one of mine.