you will go to the moon; you'll probably be heading there soon

Mother is going through what Jo and I irreverently call "the change of life," which currently means that she is in a bad mood and baking cookies. This is bad because I can smell them, but I can't go near her because she's crazy. It's pretty rough chez moi, let me tell you.

But this place won't be chez MOI for long!

There's a new hostess at work. I've downgraded my opinion of her from "seems nice" to "dumb as a post." Luckily, I won't have to work with her much more. Speaking of which, my arch nemesis at work got his ass fired, and there was much rejoicing. Now I just need that pantry kid to get canned, and I can quit the field victoriously.

The best part about that guy being fired is that it was the stupidest way to go. He pretty much got the axe for being a dumbass. I mean, he wasn't good at his job, either, but that's not why he went. If there's one thing you gotta accept about working for corporations, it's that there is little to no room for irony. You have to at least pretend to take things seriously. He showed up high to his session of Turtle School and then mouthed off about how stupid everything was. I take my job seriously because it's my job, and they're paying me to, not because I care all that deeply about whether or not some asshole's steak is overdone. Plus, I have to say that I've been treated really well by the management, and I'm genuinely going to miss many aspects of working there.

Packing is hard, guys. Also, I own a ridiculous amount of books.

MOVING!!! EEEEEEEEE

Breaking news: I have successfully applied for an apartment! I handed in my notice, and I am MOVING TO THE BIG CITY! I am so excited and nervous and all-round crazy that I'm having trouble sitting still. Also, listening to the Fratellis makes me want to dance.

I settled on the Bloor and Sherbourne option, if any of you are keeping track and/or stalking me. I am overwhelmed by the amount of shit I will have to pack up over the next two weeks, but it is going to be beyond awesome to set up my place.

Scones and tea at my new bachelorette pad?

a day late, but full of love anyway

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

to love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance

Back in the 'Saugs. My mini-break was full of sleepings and loungings, and I even managed to read some Dickens. I pretty much saw the end coming a mile away, and he really looooves the long sentences, but other than that, I can reccomend A Tale of Two Cities as a solid read. Not something you can just skim--my fast reading skillz have left me with a tendency to tune out sometimes, confident that I'll pick up the gist--because you'll suddenly realize that he's gone off on some tangent, anthropormorphizing some concept, and you have no clue what he's talking about.

The Great Apartment Hunt continued today, and now I'm debating between two places. You could, if you wanted to be all art queery about it, characterize the two as separate sides of my psyche. One is really very rational; it's the cheapest AND the largest, and it's right beside a subway stop. The other one has character, but it'll be a bitch to move into, and is sliiiiightly on the sketchier side. Logically, I should go with the first. Emotionally, however... I'm a little in love with option number two. I mean, I'm shuddering at the thought of hauling my beloved double mattress up that narrow flight of stairs, but... once it's in there.... And there ARE logical pros to number two as well. It's two blocks away from the Eaton Centre, so it'd be ridiculously easy to find a restaurant to hire me. But even if I worked in that area, I could still live at place #1, because it is literally next door to a subway station.

Anyway, I'm going to sleep on it and dither, and hopefully fax in an application to the winner on Friday.

I was going to tell you the saga about me and my cousins' cats, but now I'm tired. It's been a very long day.

heading to... exotic Newmarket!

My vacation from TJ's began at the end of Turtle School yesterday; I have four days to go spend in Newmarket, driving my cousin around to her various extracurricular commitments whilst my aunt and uncle are on a cruise. It'll be nice to be out of the 'Saugs, and I'll pretty much just be lazing around, watching movies and napping in between my driving duties. Plus, who can argue with time away from work?

I'm not kidding about the Turtle School thing, by the way. I think it was cruel and unusual punishment to get me up on Saturday morning and put me in a small room full of people who were in various stages of drinking the corporate koolaid with NO COFFEE. I would have started a riot, but I was too tired. As many of you may know, I tend to act slightly inebriated when sleep-deprived; when called on to answer the question, "What makes you a good employee?" I slurred, "Sheer awesomeness." I feel like the corporate trainer was unimpressed, but my coworkers are used to me and my ways.

Well, showering and packing must occur. I may blog from Newmarket, I may not. We'll see how many terrible action movies my uncle owns.

alright, I'm finally sold on the Jimmy Swift Band

random thoughts as I'm squirrelled away in my room

I just walked into the bathroom and was immediately disoriented. It was clean, and I was not the agent of the cleanliness. I'd been making mental notes for the past week to passive-aggressively pressure my brother into manning up and doing it, but I kept forgetting. He unceremoniously dumped my various hair and cosmetic products into a bin, but I'm told men respond better to carrots rather than sticks, so I'm not going to say anything about it.

I'm bored, and I want something entertaining to happen. I briefly considered going to see a movie, but the only one that vaguely interests me is Children of Men, and it seems like too much effort to get myself to a theatre right now. Being bored sucks when you're lazy.

I've somehow acquired a set of regulars at work. I mean, there were regulars before who know me, but these ones ASK for me. The sketchy restaurant/bar that's been at the town centre for years has finally closed, so now we've got an influx of their former regulars. I guess they just like routine, and they're making me a part of their new one. The other night I had a pair of men who claimed that they make Bollywood movies and that I should be in the next one they make in Toronto. You meet the strangest people in my line of work. Even weirdos eat.

come on mood shift, shift back to good again

Good and bad news. My brother has extracted the hard drive from my old compy, so I can get my downloaded tuneskis off of it. The bad news is, I've somehow fucked up what I already had in my iTunes (it may MOSTLY be my fault, but I never claimed to be a genius), so I'm going to have to re-rip a bunch of cds--once I figure out which ones I deleted. So, go me.

Began the Great Apartment Search of 2007 on Tuesday. Fell a little in love with the Church-Wellesley area, so I think I'm going to focus there until I get my heart broken and have to settle for Bloor-Sherbourne, or somewhere else entirely.

I have had the most ridiculously bad week and a half at work. It was kicked off by a very expensive dine'n'dash, continued through an open/close split shift, and then we had the most insane lunch ever had at a TJ's. And that's just the bare bones of it. The full story would make you weep. I desperately need a vacation; I'm at the end of my rope, patience-wise, with customers and coworkers alike. There's this kid in the kitchen named Kyle who I am straight up going to kill, just for being as dumb as a post.

But I can't help but be excited about life a month from now.

aw hell, while I'm posting music videos... an amazing acoustic version of 'Hey Ya'

and one more... loves it

two Of Montreal music videos I am not getting sick of any time soon

I stared at this for a second, and then busted a gut

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

will you please stop doing that?

Alright, so every night since at least last Thursday, a middle-aged Asian couple has walked into the restaurant, bypassed the hostess stand, and gone to the booth that's tucked alllll the way in the back. Well, last night there was a raucous party going on at the tables in that area, so they picked a less inconvenient booth, but generally they'll head right on back there. When the closing server notices them (that section is usually closed by this point in the night, so no one would be put there purposely), she has to bring them menus and serve them. They order Rickard's Red by the pitcher, and one meal to split between them. And they always order another pitcher at last call. They sit on the same side of the booth, and what do you think they do once they've had a little food and a bunch of beer? THEY MAKE OUT. FOR HOURS. And yesterday, they went into the handicapped washroom together in the middle of their third and last pitcher. This, after all my work is done, and all I have to do before I can get out of my uniform and leave is clean and re-set their table.

I've been lucky in that two out of the three times I've had to serve them, they've left before 2 am. And unfortunately, they really seem to like me (I think I'm actually the least rude to them), so I feel bad about being filled with such intense despair and rage when I see them come in. We've tried practically everything to hint that they are inconveniencing everyone. I actually stood by the booth while they made out and swept the floor. We've cleared everything off the table. We've turned off all the televisions, the music, and even the lights. Oh no, they leave when they are good and ready, and not a moment before.

My major thing is, don't they have a HOME? I thought maybe they were cheating on their respective spouses, but since they've come in every single night... well, no one is THAT gullible. One night when I wasn't there, they got super drunk and banged the empty pitchers on the table. Last night, I was hanging out in the bar, and peering over the divide, hoping they'd left. When the table was finally empty, I literally ran around the corner yelling "YESS!!" and nearly bowled them over as they were exiting.

Tonight's my last close until Monday, and if there is a higher power looking out for me, they'll go to Shoeless Joe's instead.

this is how I feel about ALL coffee

step three was where it trainwrecked

In a strange case of life imitating... well, for the sake of argument, let's say art, the guy I've been seeing recently attempted to present me with his dick in a box yesterday. This, on our third date. Now, I'm not lacking in the sense of humour department--you might call it odd, quirky, or strange, but you must admit that I have one. I draw the line at indecent exposure in a parking lot before we've gotten to second base. I've got to say, it speaks volumes about his self-confidence. And yes, the dick in a box thing was something of an in-joke between us. But I've learned two very important lessons from this:

1. Never, ever, ever, give your number out to a guest at work.
2. I'm too nice of a person sometimes, and the wisest thing to have done was head for the hills.

To answer the obvious question, no, I did not open the box. I was waiting in the restaurant when he called me to come out to the parking lot, and I told him to take the thing off and get inside. Which, hindsight being what it is, was the appropriate time to exit and circle around the place and leave. Instead I stayed, and now I'm going to have to break things off with him over the phone and hope like hell I don't run into him before I've moved to Toronto.

Speaking of Toronto, my friend Charlie's office is relocating from Winnipeg. He has a friend who's 19, and never lived on his own, who's looking for either a bachelor apartment or a roommate to split a two bedroom place with. However, if I were to move in with this guy, it'd be... SOON. Like, in a few weeks soon. He's a magician, which is a point in his favour, and according to Charlie, he's the nicest guy in the world. I'm not entirely adverse to the idea, but I've been getting more and more attached to the idea of living on my own.

a conversation betwixt me and my brother

D: Did you try my mannicotti?

ME: Yeah.

D: How'd you like it?

ME: Needed some meat.

(pause)

D: You know that was completely vegan, right? It didn't even have cheese in it.

ME: Hmm. Needed some meat.

D: You carnivore. I'm just going to start making vegan meals and you won't even realize.

ME: Can you put some meat in them?

it's almost as if my life will fall unless I see their ascent

Good solid times in the G-Spot this weekend. From what I remember, that is. Saturday night is a bit of a blur, to be honest. For some reason, I was letting people unhook my bra to see how fast they could do it--where I came up with this plan, I have no clue. I also got belligerent and yelled at randoms on the street (and then demanded their coats... apparently I was cold and belligerent). There's a picture on Facebook of me doing my bra back up, but so far that's the most embarrassing one. On Wednesday TJ's is having their staff Christmas party, but I hope to avoid being the newest grist for the rumour mill--in other words, I can't get so drunk that I let the kitchen guys at my lingerie.

Tonight was pretty brutal at work. Logic dictated that we be hurting for guests--it was crappy weather, we had no dinner rush, and it's a Monday in January. Instead, we got killed from eight-thirty until eleven-thirty, when it was only Ashley and I. There are these people that come in every Monday and are basically total whores. They either complain about the service or the food (or both). All the servers know them as "those assholes," and yet, they keep coming back. Even if you have all the time in the world to devote to their comfort, they still treat you like shit. So honestly, at this point, it really doesn't matter if you go out of your way to make sure their beer glasses are frosty enough (and I shit you not, they WILL say something about it); they just like complaining. If I go to a restaurant and I have severe issues with the food or the service, I don't go back. Simple.

I keep decorating my bachelor apartment in my head to soothe my tortured soul. Now I just have to find one.

I loves me some Samberg something awful

less scarring than the last one, I promise

your life will change after seeing this video*

*not for the better