Movies, Lots of Movies

I've been neglecting movie/TV reviews lately. Whups. Here's a quick run-down of what I've watched lately:

Platoon: One of the great, everybody's gotta watch it, movies. Right? Like Apocalypse Now it's all about the big bad Vietnam, and it has a Sheen in it. Blah, blah, war sucks, hey look it's Willem Defoe being a good guy (what the heck?!), hey it's Dr. Cox - I mean John C. McGinley, where was Johnny Depp?, blah, blah, war sucks. Gotcha. Why is it that these epitome of Vietnam movies just don't cut it with me? Give me We Were Soldiers over either of these any day.

Room With A View: Yeah, I get that her life is boring, but why did the movie have to be too?

Empire of the Sun: Look, it's Christian Bale before his face sunk in on his skull! He looks so much better with a bit of baby fat. Yeesh. Granted, the movie is still a bit too in love with itself, and despite John Malkovich, I could have passed.

And now, for a couple I actually liked:

High Anxiety: When you think Mel Brooks, chances are you think Spaceballs, History of the World Part I, Young Frankenstein, or maybe The Producers, or Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Chances are, you don't immediately think of this one. That's okay, this isn't his best. Still, at that, it's worth the time to watch it. Though sadly lacking Gene Wilder, this one does have Madeline Kahn, so it balances. This movie's got standard Brooks' fare, slapstick, bad puns, and general hi-jinks and a gag at the end that few aside from Brooks could pull off.

Eddie Izzard: Unrepeatable: This one's funny the second go 'round, though I think it oughtn't be your first Eddie adventure. I'd recommend Definite Article or Dress to Kill for that one. Still, there's plenty of good stuff in here about laundry, being a "T.V.," Star Trek, and cats with drills. He's a funny, funny man in makeup.

The Dinner Auction

Last night, just as we do once every other month after the writers group meeting, a bunch of us went out to the chain restaurant near our meeting spot for dinner and chatting. This is always an interesting experience. On one hand, I know we're a big group and therefore a pain in the ass, but I've handled big groups at the bar, and there is a way to do it and keep things straight.

However, thanks to the relative inexperience of most of the servers we get (I think they pass us off on whoever is newest as a hazing ritual) there is usually no keeping things straight. Usually, when the drinks and the food come, instead of the server matching customer to drink/entree, we do the auction game.

Server: Who had a coke? Ice tea? Chocolate shake? Another coke?

It's exciting. You watch to see what she'll grab next. Is that my chicken wrap? Oh boy, I think it is. You raise your hand to place your bid, and if you're lucky, the server notices before walking over to the other side of the table to check there first.

Last night the gal we had played the auction game to the point of silliness. She couldn't remember what anyone had, not anyone at all. It was impressive. Granted, I give as much blame to some of my co-diners who weren't all paying attention as the gal called out, "Coke, who had a coke?" However, the part that entertains me the most is that, when it came time to hand around the checks, she matched everyone up just fine. Well, until a couple of people gave her credit cards and she handed the wrong ones back.

Now, at the bar I don't technically use the pivot system, since the pivot system means starting with a specific seat. Instead, I pick someone for some reason (like the little old lady sitting with the group of younger folk) and go around the table from there. I also love my notepad because I can take another look at it if I get mixed up. The vast majority of the time, I can match people with their drinks or food, even when there's a group of fifteen or more. It's all about having a system.

So, I can't help but wonder why we so often do the auction. Is it simply the inexperience of the server who gets stuck with us? Or is it that this particular chain does a poor job of training said newbie? Hard to say. Of course, I have a certain amount of pity on the poor soul saddled with the ten of us and I often add an extra dollar or two to my tip on these nights. I just keep feeling like I should pull our server aside, borrow their apron, and say, "Here, let me help you."

Faux Halloween: Wherein The Bar was Invaded by Zombies and Scantily Clad Drunk Girls

Julia: What are you wearing tomorrow?
Me: This (pointing to standard issue waitress gear).
Julia: No, you have to dress up. John and I are. Please.
Me: Oh, okay.

Technically, Halloween doesn't happen for another few days. However, since Halloween is during the week, Saturday was the designated day to do Halloween parties and the day we at the bar dressed up in costume. So did many of our patrons. Made for an odd night. It's strange to not recognize so many people who I otherwise would. Disorienting, even. More than once, I had to do a double-take before I made the connection that the costumed person I was looking at was really someone I knew.

I had not planned to do a costume, ergo, I did not have one. Saturday morning I ventured to my folks' house with a plan to dig through the box of old costumes and scrounge something to wear. Then I got to talking with my brother, who was given some clothes for safe-keeping by a cadet who got booted out of the academy for honor code violations. Long story short, I've been watching a lot of X-Files and there was a navy blue trench coat in said cadet's bag of clothes. A button-up shirt and fake FBI badge later, and I had a costume.

Everybody: You're Scully, aren't you?
Me: Yup.
For the most part, people figured it out real quick. For the most part.

Guy dressed in "retired" Superman get-up (to me): Hey, I thought this was a costume party.
Yeah, because I always wear a trench coat when I'm waiting tables. Coats are great for when you're running around over-heating all night. And the FBI badge helps keep otherwise unruly drunks under control, because they just never know for sure that it's fake. Superman paid for the round for his buddies. Superman did not tip.

My favorite table of the night was a group of ten or so people all decked out in zombie gear. Messy/bloody hair, gruesome face makeup, tattered clothes, and even one guy with creepy corpse contacts. They came in, settled at a table, and I walked over to take their order. So, picture this: me standing next to and looking at a dozen people in zombie get-up which has been done with care and attention to detail. Now, I'm generally not too freaked out by horror movies, with the notable exception of, you guessed it, zombie flicks. Zombies are the scariest kind of ghoul I've come across, by virtue of sheer numbers if nothing else. Then there's 28 Days Later. So there I was, surrounded, and I have to admit to feeling more than a little uneasy about it.

The zombies order a couple of pitchers of beer and an amaretto sour. A short time later, the song "Thriller" comes on the jukebox. I'm assuming they played it because, in time with the music they all got up from the table, walked over to where there was a bit more room, and started doing a jerky-zombie dance. I think they rehearsed it and it wouldn't surprise me if they did the same at each of the bars they hit that night. It was impressive to watch, in any regard, and when they staggered back to their seats, everyone in the bar applauded. It was great.

Less great is the other part of Halloween - it brings out the tart in way too many girlies. Yeah, I can understand taking the opportunity of dressing in costume to wear something a bit more risque than one's usual wardrobe, and I saw a few gals who did exactly that. Then there were the scads of girlies in micro skirts, teeny shorts, and cleavage diving tops. What ever happened to leaving a little to the imaginiation?

The hightlight of this flesh-baring parade (mind you, it was about forty degrees that night, what with it being the end of October and all) was when a couple of quasi-regular guys came in dressed as Hugh Heffner and surrounded by a horde of Playboy bunnies. Very classy, let me tell ya.

In the midst of this whole thing, I think I was expected to tart up too, and my dear co-workers were entertained that I didn't.
Alex, our cook: Where's the miniskirt?
Me: I thought about it, but it just wouldn't look right with my comfortable waitressing shoes.
Alex: But no one would be looking at your shoes.

Bartender John: What are you, a flasher?
Me: No, see the badge? The shirt? The pants?
John: If you took 'em off, you could be.
(This coming from the guy who was dressed as a lion in a costume he put together from parts of one originally meant for his dog. Basically, it was a hood type thing and a tail on the back of his pants.)
Me: Right, and who're you to talk? Since when to lions wear vests?
John: I'm a hip lion.

Trench coats are not ideal garb for waiting tables. They get a little warm. However, since I took the lining out and it wasn't too busy, I was mostly all right. I did step outside a little more often than usual to get a bit of chilly air.
K.C.: The rule is "smoke 'em if you got 'em," not just take a break whenever you want.
Me: Shut up.

Finally, the night wound down, the bar emptied most of the way out, and I got ready to put up chairs. A gal sitting at the bar dressed in a classical Greek costume and I chatted a bit about all the costumes. I mentioned the scantily clad girlies.
Gal: I know. I picked this costume because it was pretty.
Me: Yeah.
Gal. I didn't know, until I tried it on with my bra that my boobs would be popping out of it (unfolds her arms to demonstrate).
Me: Uh, I see.
Gal: I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe it's because I'm drunk.
Me: That would make sense. Well, time for me to put the chairs up. Best of luck with the cleavage situation.
Gal: (nods, turns back to her beer)

Of course, come actual Halloween I'll be right back at the bar. My plan is to be sans trench coat, but I fear we'll once again be invaded. I don't know how well I can handle Halloween twice in one week.

Another Branching Off

Just as I broke off from this blog to make one dedicated to writing, I have now set up a jewelry-dedicated blog. I hope to use it in a professional-type capacity, and decided it'd be more professional to have a blog that didn't feature my bar-related posts. Ergo: http://curlytreedesigns.blogspot.com/ Look for future bead posts here instead of this blog.

Nifty Art Link

I found a new website that has neat pictures.
http://slightlywarped.com/crapfactory/amazingimages/index.htm

Here are a couple, in particular.
http://slightlywarped.com/crapfactory/curiosities/onemanstrash.htm
http://slightlywarped.com/crapfactory/curiosities/weirdsculptures.htm

#1 Rule for Getting Good Service: Attitude

The one first-impression thing, above all others, that'll make me, your waitress, like you and take care of you is this: a smile. No joke.

I walk up to your table, say "Hi how're you doing tonight" and how you respond to that first interaction colors everything from there on out. People who don't respond, or mutter, or don't look at me, or whatever are more likely to be high maintenance, entitled, a poor tipper, etc. They don't like me already, and we just met. People who look right at me, smile, and say some variation of "Good, and you?" are much more prone to be pleasant to wait on. Thus, I'm immediately more inclined to take good care of them.

There are many other factors that go into what you can do to get good service, like be a regular who tips well, know what you want (I'm not a mind reader, honestly), etc. But, above all, the thing that matters most is the first impression you make on me.

Last night I had two tables. Table one: two gals who were out to chat with each other and have a drink. As soon as I walked up, the one was already smiling at me. They each had a drink, split an appetizer, and drank water. Tip = %20.

Table two: a couple who didn't smile when I walked up. They had two drinks each, split an order of nachos. They needed forks too. For crying out loud, it's nachos! Tip = %20.

Who do I want back? Who did I take better care of? Exactly. Not to say I neglected the people who need forks for nachos, but with the other gals I genuinely wanted to ensure they had a nice evening, which meant paying extra attention to their body language.

Sometimes, I don't think people understand how much their own attitude affects how people react to them. It's fascinating when people complain about how much their bar/restaurant experience sucked and never once think that their own attitude and behavior had anything to do with how they were treated.

Not that I'm trying to excuse bad service, but when I go out to eat, my waiter/waitress rarely disappoints me so utterly as do those of these complainers. That's even counting the time I went out with the writers group and our waiter was blatantly stoned and couldn't remember who ordered what, whose credit card slip was whose, and even confused people sitting across the table from each other and who were different genders.

But, on the bright side, he did remember to refill our water glasses which is something not often seen at this particular eatery. His service was far from perfect, but it didn't ruin my life either. I still got my hamburger and one of my friends even got a free milkshake since the waiter was too baked to add it to the ticket.

So, note to all those who have horrid dining/drinking experiences: Look to yourself. If you are an asshole or determined to have a bad experience, well, you got it. If service really is that terrible, don't have a hissy fit, talk to the manager and/or find a different eatery or bar. Life goes on.

What Happens When The Rockies Play the World Series?

"Let's give it another half hour, and then we're all good. This isn't fair to you."
-Dave

The bar was dead last night. At one point, for a moment at about seven thirty, we had no customers. Zip, zero, zilch. Then Julia came in (she had the day off) and we technically had one. By eight thirty, I had no tables. By nine thirty, this hadn't changed and Dave let me go. It was amazing. Ten o'clock on a Wednesday night and I was actually at home instead of at the bar. That hasn't happened to me since some time in August, or maybe it was June. Granted, I made terrible money thanks to the being dead part, but at ten o'clock when I was sitting on my couch making two necklaces and watching Scrubs I couldn't help but think it was totally worth it.

SCWP Photos

I realize I've been on a major streak of beading posts, so here's one to change things up a bit. With all my talking about SCWP, you may have wondered what everybody looks like. Well, SCWP has a flickr account, it's http://www.flickr.com/photos/scwp/. Now you know.

Bead Stats: In Case You're Wondering

My plan for my long weekend was to do massive amounts of beading & polymer to prepare for the craft show on the 1st. Thanks to the monstrous order and lots of pretty things, beading took most of my time. So what did I accomplish? Let's do this numerically.

Polymer pendants: 14-ish (I haven't counted yet)
Polymer bead sets: 2
Earring pairs: 2
Necklaces: 19

Whew.

The Monstrous Order Makes Itself Useful

Katherine just came in and picked out jewelry for her Christmas shopping. All the necklaces she chose are pieces I made over the weekend, and two I made just last night. And just that quickly, I've got a handful of necklaces fewer than I had yesterday and Katherine's knocked out a chunk of her Christmas shopping. Symbiosis is cool.

The only bad part is that a couple of the necklaces she picked are ones that I wanted. Oh well, I've got plenty more where those came from, and a whole strand of dark red faceted pearls I haven't even touched yet. Faceted pearls: more money, but a lot more oomph. Now if only Katherine would stop buying all my faceted pearl necklaces so I could wear one for a change. The count right now, Katherine: 2 - Me: 0. Fortunately, this is a very positive thing to be sad about.

All About Themes

On the other blog, I've been on a kick talking about themes. We all have them, whatever we're making. My featured jewelry this week is a few pendants in the same theme. I like trees, can you tell? With jewelry and art in particular, the interesting thing about themes is the variation.

Right now I'm also on braided things kick, and of the necklaces I've made during the binge, three are braids. I like the way the texture works, both when you have strands of the same thing (I made one of coral chips) and strands of different things (coral, shell, glass). They're chunkier necklaces than I've tended to make before, but fun by way of branching out and expanding my comfort zone. One of them might even work for Katherine's Christmas shopping.

Another thing you'll also see a lot of in my work is silver. I love my spacers. They're so nice for adding length, texture, and tend to dress things up. Themes, patterns, motifs. There's no escaping them.


P.S. On the pendants, the surface color all comes from gold and copper pearlescent powder + TLS. The differences you see in saturation, tone, and gloss mostly come from how much TLS I used. The two diamond pendants are the best example of this since I even used the same coloring (gold in the middle, copper on the edge). With the one on the top right, I painted on TLS that had the powder mixed right into it - thus the greater saturation - and the gloss comes from using my old toaster oven instead of my regular oven, and it gets very hot very fast. Greater heat, greater gloss. On the bottom left I put TLS on the pendant, then stippled powder into it on top.

The Earring Post

By request, here is an earring picture. This is how I store my earrings, and my cords from graduation (though that second part wasn't planned, it just turned into a convenient spot).

As you may have guessed, I have far more necklaces than earrings. I tend to go in phases with wearing earrings and right now I'm not in one. I love hanging them this way because it's simple, I can see everything at once, and it serves double duty as a kind of wall art.

If you're interested in one of your own, they're really easy to make. Get a wooden frame. Mine was an old picture frame. Get some screen big enough to cover the frame plus extra for wrapping around. Put the screen on canvas-style, pulling the edge behind the front and stapling to the back of the frame. You could even do decorative things with paint, if you're moved to do so. All-in-all the project takes about five minutes and then you've got a crafty place to hang your earrings. (Doesn't work so well for stud earrings, obviously)

No Bar Highlights

Why? Because I had Friday and Saturday off and only five tables on Wednesday. Of course two of those five came in at 10:30 and a little after (i.e. the time I can finally leave if it's slow) and I didn't get out of there until close to midnight. Though, on Wednesday, I did get a marriage proposal from one of our regulars who was rather drunk and/or depressed. "Wanna marry me Ali? I'll make you miserable the rest of your life."

How can a gal say no to that? Well, like this, "No thanks."

It's been a while since I've been proposed to, I guess I was about due.

So, why the weekend off? Because I got someone to cover for me Friday and we're only using one waitress on Saturdays right now. More specifically - because the Writing Marathon was on Saturday and thought it was a good excuse to have a "regular person" weekend. So, instead of spending Friday and Saturday catering to other people, I indulged myself and spent time with friends. Definitely a good deal.

The really good deal is that it ended up being a four day weekend, since I usually have Friday and Monday off from campus. Though I didn't plan it that way, it's perfect, because you know what came in the mail on Thursday? That's right, the monstrous bead order. Since Thursday, I've made eleven new necklaces and two pair of earrings. And I still have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to continue my binge. To quote Martha, "It's a good thing."

A Note on Pearl Powders/Surface Treatments

Pearlescent powders are great to use with polymer clay. Their main problem, though, is that if you don't seal them, they'll rub off. Now, if you're mixing the powders right into the clay, this is a non-issue. However, if you're using them as a surface treatment, as with the carved pendants, it is an issue.

My first experiment: I found a clear acrylic at the hardware store (originally intended for sealing wood) and used it to seal my first pendants. Unfortunately, the bond isn't as good as I'd like and the acrylic will peel off. I've heard people say that baking the acrylic on will help prevent peeling, but I've not tried it yet. Also, I like things to be really durable, not just sorta. So, I tried to think of another way.

My second experiment: I'd just been reading about using liquid polymer in projects, so it was on my mind when I sat down at the table. I had a "eureka" moment, and wondered what would happen if I used TLS to help set the powder. It worked beautifully. I like to texture my pendants with a hard bristled brush, and adding TLS tends to fill-in that texture, but at the same time, it adds some of its own. I like the result, it makes it seem a little more organic. Here are two texture examples.

Light TLS:

Heavy TLS:

Carved Pendants

Supplies: Baked polymer pendants. They should have a thin layer of color on top - in this case, pearl powders (mixed with TLS to set them) over a black polymer base.

Lino carving tool

Step 1-?: Pretty self-explanatory, start carving. For this one, I used the spot where the two colors meet as a starting point.

I added some lines, then a few more, and this is the end result. One tip: it's better to have shallow initial cuts than those that are too deep - you can always go back over the line again to deepen it, but you can't really fill in. Also, controlling your pressure = controlling your carving tool, which means your lines are more likely to go where you want them to.

A Bit of Odd

There's a gal I sometimes see if on campus on Tuesdays/Thursdays. She wears a midnight blue body sock. I've seen her wearing this multiple times. She's just casually walking to class.

I don't get it. Where's the appeal?

Maybe one of these days I'll say something to her, like "What gives?" or "Are you an art major, by chance?" Of course, given my luck with these things, she'd say "Business major, actually."

Monstrous Order and Custom Work

"Medford, Or"
-Tracking info on FedEx website.

In preparation for the craft show I'll doing on Nov. 1st, and as a treat for myself, on Saturday I placed a very large bead order online. It's quite the indulgence, and not a cheap one, but I'm justifying it on the basis of the sheer quantity of what I'll be getting for the price, the fact that I won't need to do any bead shopping for a very long time, and having some orders for custom work.

Katherine and her husband are starting on their Christmas shopping and four of the gals they're shopping for are going to have jewelry made by me. I've started on a couple of possibles for these ladies, three maybes right now, and I think I'll be able to bring in a collection for Katherine to choose from next week.

Custom work is tricky in that you start with "A set with blues, greens, and/or purple, about yay long" and then go through the bead stash to find colors, shapes, and sizes that might work, then start mixing and matching, all the while thinking of what would fit the style requested. Still, challenges like this are fun, and with the monstrous bead order on its way, I'll have lots and lots to choose from.

I know I've been slacking on pictures, but there'll be some new jewelry up soon, I promise.

The Peanut Gallery

We have a group of regulars who, particularly on the weekend, stake out a spot at the end of the bar and stay until close (or near it) chatting and drinking. For the most part, they're men in their fifties from a smattering of professions: lawyer, artist, bartender, etc. They're quite pleasant and entertaining. Nice to have around, especially last night.

Last night I had a number of people being irritating, and then two guys be outright jerks. The owners have cut off the AC. Last night it was hot inside (the thermostat averaged 76 degrees all night) and rainy and cool outside. I opened the back door. Somebody closed it. I opened it again. Somebody closed it. I opened it. On my way back down the hall, two guys standing at the bar look at me and one says, "We keep closing the door 'cause we're cold and you keep opening it. We're just going to close it again. You're just hot because you're working." Isn't that a lovely thing to say?

Even better, everybody at that end of the bar, i.e. the gang of regulars and a couple of out-of-town guys who were camped out and chatting with the regulars, saw the exchange. A bit later, after the guys had wandered off for a while, John P. said, "That guy was an asshole." One of the out-of-towners made a similar comment. I felt quite vindicated. The nice thing about most regulars, they tend to get attached to the staff and snark right along with us about the jerks.

The gang was also nice to have last night because by midnight I had no tables and they helped keep me from getting too insanely bored.
Nathan: Hey Ali, what's a dangling participle?
Me: Um...
I couldn't remember. Yes, I'm an English major. Yes, I took a whole semester of Grammar & Syntax, but I have a hard time remembering the names of stuff. Anyhow, I got online and looked it up, then we had a mini grammar lesson as I told Nathan and Bob what it was. Bob was in classic form last night, telling everybody to "Oh, shut the f* up," in that friendly, nonchalant way he has.

Nick, the presumed gay fellow who hugged me a while back, came upstairs for some popcorn and asked if I would get it for him because "that machine scares me."

At one point, the conversation came around to religion. Someone was asking the out-of-towners if they were Catholic, the one said he wasn't Catholic, but was a Jesus fan. Nathan added, "That Jesus (spanish pronunciation), he was smoking some dope." Apparently, the idea of Jesus as a stoner was appealing.

At another point, Nathan, John, and Bob were talking to one of the out-of-towners about women, and after warning the guy away from his teenage daughter, Nathan said that she looks like him.
Me: Does she have a moustache too?
Nathan: No (eye roll). She looks just like me, except she's blonde and blue-eyed. I guess I was on bottom.
Me: I didn't need to know that.
Nathan: (pointing to me)Look, I made her blush!
What can I say? I blush easily. Sue me. In any event, Nathan was entertained.

Even though these regulars are generally sit-at-the-bar regulars, rather than my regulars, I still like them and go out of my way to chat with them. If you ever come to my bar around eleven or later on a Friday or Saturday night, I'd recommend sitting by the end of the bar near the popcorn machine. It's a good spot.

A Fun Night

This week has been an exhausting one. Between a series of early mornings Sunday through Wednesday, working until midnight at the bar Wednesday, a dentist's appointment Thursday, a major assignment due Thursday night, a break-down in communication among the group I was working with for said major assignment, and going from a Hungry Eye meeting (3:00) to the bar (5:00) and, after thinking I'd go home early, being told that Brandi wouldn't be in, thus I was the only one on the floor for a whole Friday night. Yay. Tomorrow I was supposed to be back at the bar at 6:00, thus another long night. Thank George that Julia had pity and offered to cover for me until 9:00 tomorrow.

Now, let me backtrack just a bit:
The Hungry Eye meeting today was a bit frustrating because people weren't staying on track and/or weren't paying attention and/or didn't remember the pieces we were trying to make decisions about. So, by the end of it, I kinda wanted to tell certain people to stop talking/grabbing the papers I was trying to keep sorted. Then I hop in my car and drive to the bar, can't find a good parking spot so I have to walk farther than I like, walk in, go to the bathroom to put on my work shirt, realize it's still in my car... All the while, I'm telling myself "Tonight will be a good night."

Tonight, Brandi's boyfriend was in a car accident and she went to the hospital instead of coming to the bar. Understandable. Doesn't mean I enjoyed being by myself for a whole Friday night. Tonight, there was a Rockies' game and everybody was intent on it, including when I was trying to check on them and they were ignoring me 'cause the game was more interesting. Then, a few more people wandered in and everybody crowded around the bar to see the TV and stood in my way.

I love it when people say "Oh, sorry, I'm in your way" and then they DON'T MOVE out of it. I also love it when the noise of the people + the music on the jukebox combine to create enough volume that I have to yell at my tables to make myself heard. I also love it when a guy stiffs me on the tip twice, then when it's almost closing time and I tell him and his buddy that I'm picking up drinks momentarily, he says "Oh, we'll be done in just a minute." See, it doesn't matter if he's done. I'm picking up drinks. Especially when I get stiffed on the tip. Twice. Alas, they lucked out and finished by the time I was done with chairs.

Tonight was supposed to be a good night. I mean, I often find I end the night in a better mood than I started it (a combination of many things, like being much closer to going home) but tonight I ended the night tired, impatient, and grouchy. Two positives, though: the night is [expletive] over and part of the extra money I made from doing the work of two people is going to go to something indulgenc-y. Something(s) from Bath & Body Works, I think. Yes, that sounds about right.

Super Fantastico Chocolate Cookies

Of all the cookies in the world, these tie with farm cookies and snickerdoodles as my favorites:

Chocolate Mints

3/4 cup butter or margarine
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 Tbs. water
2 cups (12 oz) semi-sweet chocolate pieces
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 packages (or so) of Andes mints, halved

Put margarine, sugar, and water in a pan and heat. When butter is melted, add chocolate and stir until partially melted, remove from heat, stir until chocolate is completely melted. Pour into mixing bowl and let sit 10 min.

With mixer at high speed, beat in eggs. Reduce speed and add dry ingredients. Mix until just blended. Chill for at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 350. Line cookie sheets with foil.

Roll teaspoonsful of dough into balls (or use tiny scoop), place on cookie sheet approx. 2" apart. Bake at 350 for 12-13 minutes - no longer, cookies crisp as they cool.

Remove from oven and immediately place mint on each hot cookie. Allow to soften and swirl over cookie. Remove from cookie sheet to cool.

Yield: a ton.

Of course, if you want to melt other things on top of the cookies, I'm all for experimentation. Also, if you forego melting things on top of the cookies, they're just fine plain. If you're going for non-topped cookies, you might try adding some cinnamon to the dough. Experimentation is fun.

On the Bright Side

Upset Waitress recently put up a post about hostess frustration: http://upsetwaitress.com/?p=24

For a while now, as I've perused others' rants and raves, I've had moments where I've thought, "I'm glad I work where I do." Given that I work at a bar, and a small, non-chain one at that, I have certain advantages. In the spirit of optimism and such, I thought I'd take a moment to reflect on some positivity. Here are some of the good parts about my place of employment:

1. No name tags.
2. No host/hostess.
3. No hamburgers/steaks to be cooked particular ways.
4. No busboys.
5. Come 2 a.m., by law, we have to kick everyone out.
6. I can often find out quickly who's a tipper and who's not and adjust accordingly without wasting lots of time on people who're going to stiff me.
7. I serve a lot more drinks than food. It's hard to whine about a bottle of beer.
8. On the whole, I have good co-workers.
9. The owners aren't always super savvy about the business, but they're not trying to screw their employees over either.
10. We have a door guy who helps alleviate my boredom on slow weekends, besides doing typical door guy things too.

I think, of the whole list, my favorite point is #5. After hearing/reading everyone's frustrations about having to stay late just so a table could sit around, I have a new found appreciation for the fact that not only can we run people out, we must. Granted, they all look at me very sadly when I take their half-finished drink away, but that's the law. Tough luck. Now, get out.

It's always easier when they leave on their own, but from time to time the vindictive side gets a certain degree of satisfaction from telling that obnoxious lingering table that they really do have to leave. That, and hearing Julia yell it loud enough for people downstairs to hear.

People Who Aren't As Smart As They Think They Are

Over the past few weeks, every night I've been at the bar someone has played Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" on the jukebox. Dave and I had a running joke about it and every time it played, we'd say something about another night in the streak. Alas, tonight, no one played it. I considered putting it on myself whilst picking out a few on the box, but it just didn't seem right. Oh well, we had a good run. Alternately, we've also had a run of people who aren't that smart. Here are my favorites.

Me: (going up to a table) How are you guys doing?
Gal: (puzzled look) Can I order drinks through you?

Gal: I dunno what I want. What do you suggest?
Me: Well, are you looking for something strong, or not so much?
Gal: Not strong.
Me: (noticing she's looking at the martini list) Well, probably not a martini then.
Gal: I like martinis.
Gal's friend: You should have a Cosmo.
Gal: I'll have a Cosmo.
Of all the questions I'm asked, being asked to suggest something is my least favorite. This is an example as of why. Tonight, though, when I mentioned it to Dave, he said, "People only ask me that once. I always suggest something totally bizarre and they never ask again." I'll have to remember that. This is another reason why Dave is my hero.

Guy: What's your name?
Me: Ali.
Guy: Like Mohammed Ali. I'm going to call you Mohammed.
And so he did. He was very entertained, but he also kept tipping me pretty well, so he managed to stay within my tolerance threshold.

Gal: (coincidentally, at the same table with previous guy) I need some salt.
This one's not so as blatantly dumb as the others. It's just that there is a difference between want and need, and statements don't work so well as requests. I'm not even asking for a "please" here, just that requests be phrased in the form of a question. It's not that hard, really.

And now, for one that was more entertaining to me and not a dumb comment.
Me: (Rattle off beers on tap)
Gal: Hey, that was alphabetical.
When I became a cocktail waitress, I memorized the beers on tap. While it's not that hard to memorize a handful of beers, I was also learning everything else, and remembering the tab beers in order helped me keep them straight. For a little over two years now I've been rattling off the tap beers alphabetically and this gal was the only one who's ever made a comment, and probably just about the only one who's ever even noticed. That she pointed it out made me like her immediately.

Fun Spam

You know, there are a lot of people who say writing doesn't matter. Then there are a lot of people who will form a first impression of someone based on their writing. I'm that second kind. Now, for the sake of argument, let's say you're a man. Let's say this isn't spam. It's still funny, isn't it?

"Greetings From LAURA

It is obvious that this email will come to you as a surprise, this is because we have not met before but i am inspired to sending you this e-mail In my quest for you. With opportunity that will be mutual benefit to two of us, However, I am MISS LAURA Anderson, by name and i am 30 years of age from South Africa.

I am lady with a pure heart and i am also born again christian. I want you to send an email to my email address so i can give you my picture for you to know whom i am, then i hope you will like what you see and write me to my e.mail ?. My aim here is to meet a

man that will love me and be my husband then i will do the same thing to him and i will love him with all my heart .

I am not here for any
game and i am not looking for a player either so please if you are player dont bother to write me back but if you are seriously looking for a serious relationship like i do then lets make it happen . Write me to my email and i will write you back with my beautiful picture attach to it . Thank you and i hope to hear from you as soon as possible.

I believe we can move from here. Remeber the distance or colour does not matter but love matters alot in life. Waiting for your email.

Yours
LAURA ANDERSON"

Speaking of Pirates

There's a pirate theme running around on the blogs, and then the Bent Objects guy puts this up http://bentobjects.blogspot.com/2007/10/this-is-marshmallow-photo-funny-title.html Very fitting.

Baker Gag

Catharsis in Others' Rants

To help iron out my irked-ness, I wend googling for some waitstaff rants. Found one, though it's a bit less ranty and a bit more philosophical.
First part: http://www.avivalasvegas.com/Pages/mccoolsspeakeasy.htm
Second part: http://www.avivalasvegas.com/Pages/mccoolsspeakeasy/mccoolsspeakeasy2.htm

Her tip/power comments are right on the mark. Good stuff.

Bar Notes: Things Not to Do

Last night Dave and I got slammed around 5:30/6:00 as two big groups came in at the same time, plus a couple tables and people at the bar. Busy as all-get-out, and busier than it ever was on Friday. Not bad for the middle of the week. Also fun is how when we get busy and I'm running from table to table to the bar to a table... my patience level goes way down. A couple of suggestions, not just for when it's busy, but these two things made me want to smack people yesterday:

1. Please keep your [expletive] hands off the waitress. Seriously. Yesterday, I got up to the table, guy puts his hand on my hip - not in a "come here baby" kind of way, but kind of in a "hang on a second" way, but totally inappropriate even so. For the rest of the night, I always came to the table from the other side so as to keep out of arm's reach. Another guy, same 50's-ish age, different table, put his hand on my arm. When I immediately took a step back, I think he got the message. Why is this an issue? Realistically, when is the last time you went up to a total stranger in the street and touched them? They have this saying about three feet of personal space. I have my own saying: Don't [expletive] Touch Me. Side note, when the table was done, this guy paid - $10 on an $80 tab, i.e. less than %15. Maybe I should have given him a grope, would that've helped?

2. When sitting at a table and the server asks "How's everyone doing? Can I get anyone something?" That is the ideal time to ask for another beer. Not a couple minutes later when I bring your friend his. I like to minimize my trips back and forth because I have five other tables and the less time I spend running back and forth to yours, the more time I have to see if they want something. It's called maximizing my efficiency. Taking three trips for three beers when I could have gotten them all at once is called pissing me off.

3. Bonus: Situation awareness is a great thing, i.e. paying attention. Table orders food. I bring silverware out a few minutes before food. Table moves silverware to another table to get it out of their way. I bring food. Table says "Can we have some forks and napkins?" I barely refrain from saying, "No, dumbass, 'cause you made it very clear just moments ago that you don't really want either."

Okay, all in all it wasn't a bad night. It was just a very hectic two and half hours where I had just enough idiots to cause undo frustration. Then I had the table who couldn't read the menu. I had to explain the difference to them between an appetizer and an entree for what seemed like half an hour: "This one's an appetizer, it has dip and bread. This one's an entree it's kinda like a mini pizza and it has a side."
"But, does it come with bread?"
"It is bread, with toppings. Like a mini pizza."
"And this other one comes with bread?"
"Yes, and dip, too."
Same table with guy who grabbed my arm.

Fortunately, after a while they all left. Then I got a free ice cream sunday 'cause the gal wanted chocolate syrup, not caramel. Damn. Dave and I made fun of people a lot. Later, a table of our nice regulars came in and by the time I left, I was in a pretty good mood.

It's just that, since I got home late and did a bit of homework and blog updating, I didn't get to bed until 2:00 a.m. then my alarm went off at 7:30 a.m. and this morning I find a message from my problem prof. that no, we can't meet on any of the days that work for me because she's only on campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so can I meet with her before I go to work? No. I'm not getting up early just to have a meeting I don't want to have with someone who gets on my nerves. Instead, I can cut my lunch break short on Tuesday. Now, if that time doesn't work for her, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'll just have to tell Dr. Sheidley I tried, I really did, but I just can't bend over backwards quite that far. (In finding out my frustrations with said prof. he suggested I talk to her directly about them - a tact I'm not sure I agree with in this situation, but at least I can say I tried, right?)

Wow, that turned into a seriously ranty post. Isn't sleep deprivation combined with frustrating people fun? The bright side: Brandi talked Marianne into changing the schedule on Saturdays so instead of having two bored-to-tears servers, we'll only have one. This means that, for now, I get every other Saturday off. Starting with this one. Thank George for small favors.

Oh Gimme a Break: Ladder 49

Chief Kennedy: People are always asking me how is it that firefighters run into a burning building when everyone else is running out. Courage is the answer

Movie Review: Ladder 49. Right. Now you don't have to watch the movie, 'cause that's the whole thing.

I thought this movie might be worth watching 'cause of Joaquin Phoenix. I generally like him and the movies he's in. However, this one is so blatant and hero-worshippy that it's just too much. I like firefighters, respect what they do, heck one of the owners at the bar is a firefighter, a captain, even. However, these characters are all way too perfect and the whole set up of the movie is transparent and maybe it gets better, but I'm not making myself watch any more just to find out. Bah. Skip this one, I'd say.

Go watch some Dexter or Scrubs instead.

Temporary Mom-ing

"Are you still interested in babysitting next week?"
-Gretchen

For about four days next week I'll have three kids: two boys and one girl, the girl's the youngest and I've literally been taking care of her since she was a newborn. The boys are old enough they don't need much by way of babysitting (except for someone to make food and drive them places) but the girl is young enough that she still craves attention and likes to do my hair. It'll be fun. I wonder if Tyler's read any good books.

One thing about overnight babysitting is that it always reminds me why kids aren't in my plan. These three are good kids who aren't super needy and who I genuinely like. Still, after a few days straight of taking care of them I'm thrilled when their real parents get home.

Makes Me Think "Flintstones"

This is one of my questionable necklaces. I'm not sure if I completely like the end result. Flourite faceted nuggets, flourite chips, and grey seed beads.

Practically a Full Moon

It's been documented that things like moon phases and weather influence people's behavior. Today (okay, technically yesterday) was just past the full moon and we've been having gale force winds all day (and night). Granted, most of the odder-than usual didn't surface until after eleven thirty, but there was a bit more color tonight than others.

Usual stuff
(As soon as I walk in) Julia: Just to let you know, those ladies don't tip *points*
Brandi: So just ignore them and let John wait on 'em.
Me: Gotcha.
Not tipping is bad. In some places it gets you loogie flavored food, etc. In others it just gets you ignored. A while after I got the scoop, I heard one of the ladies say "Excuse me." See, we hear/see, but if we don't respond, it means we don't like you. Sorry. Word to the wise: tip your server/bartender. Tipping is payment for service. No tip = no service.

Gal I know from school: We'll take three lemon drop martinis.
Gal's friend: (To me) Oh, you work here? *tugs my apron, as if to prove I do* You don't look like the other gal who brought our drinks before.
What do you mean I don't look like Brandi? We're twins. Really.

Old guy at the bar: Hey, what's in a... uh... a martini.
Me: Alcohol. (Slipped out before I could stop myself)

Other guy at the bar: Smile. *pokes fingers on face to imitate making a smile*
Me:... *walking away*
(Note - Never ever do this. Seriously. Don't. It is the worst possible way to "cheer someone up" because it inevitably is counterproductive and works much better to "piss someone off")

Other guy at the bar: Hey, I wanna order a Shepherd's pie.
I love it when random guys at the bar try to chat with me or order things from me. It's not like my job is to take care of my customers - who, by default, never sit at the bar.

Less Usual

Nice regular guy whose name I don't know, and who I think is gay: Gimme a hug. I feel like hugging someone.
Dunno what's up with the hugging thing, but lately it's like everybody and their dog wants to hug me. In this case it actually cheered me up. It was a tough night.

And, for the topper on the evening: It was somewhere around midnight thirty and I was behind the bar washing glasses to help alleviate the boredom of a slow, tedious night. The peanut gallery (group of regulars) was at that end of the bar chatting away. Then,
Nathan: Hey Ali.
Me: *looking up*
Nathan: *points to bad Bob*
Bad Bob: *pulls down his pants to moon everyone*
Luckily, my reflexes were fast and I looked away before getting an eyeful. Thanks Nathan.

Feeling Like a Drug Dealer

"You suck."
-Katherine

Yesterday I wore a new necklace and Katherine said she wanted it, with earrings. I mentioned that I'd made a handful of new necklaces over the weekend and she said, "uh oh." Today, I wore another new necklace, which she also wants. That's where the "you suck" came in. It's great to have a fan, abuse not withstanding.

Katherine: It's terrible, I'm addicted.
Me: Well, there are worse things.
Katherine: Yeah, crack.
Me: See?

Of course, for all that she might feel guilty about her jewelry addiction, I reminded her that I'll always have twice as much at my house. Even if she buys an average of one new necklace a week, there are still those weeks (or weekends) where I'll sit down for a couple of hours and make half a dozen new necklaces in one go. She wasn't reassured.

Ahoy Matey

Apparently, you can't be a pirate named Ali. Alas. My pirate name:

Iron Anne Kidd

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Go find yours, http://www.piratequiz.com/

Present for Julia

This one was a tough necklace to pull together, I just couldn't figure out what would go with the polymer beads. Finally, I went in an earthy direction, playing off the wood-like look of the polymer, and found something that worked. So, with the polymer is wood spacers (black), glass bicones, and seed beads.

Funny Link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zM2coybME4M
Here's to you, Pedro.

"These F*ers Don't Get Out Much"

Said the woman who was standing in my way near the bar after saying "Hey" a couple times and tapping my shoulder to get my attention. She didn't want me to get anything for her, she had no question about the location of the restroom, she just wanted to relay that one vital bit of information.

Gal: I'd like a bloody mary and chaser of a light beer.
Me: We have Bud Light or Coors Light.
Gal: Well, since we're in California, how about a Coors Light.
Me: You've been traveling a lot, haven't you?

Guy: (Buying a shot for a gal) Just tell her it's for her future husband, she'll know who it is.

There are a couple of ladies on the patio and I've brought them a couple of rounds. I bring out two more drinks, the same they ordered last time.
Me: Here ya go, that'll be $6.50.
Gal: How come it was $5.00 the last time?
Me:... (I have no idea how she deluded herself there, I really don't.)

Another group is out on the patio. I walk over and say in my best talking over their incessant chatter voice: How is everyone doing?
Group:....
Me: (turning away - anyone who ignores me is, by default, doing fine)
I step over to the other patio table to take care of them.
Gal from group: Excuse me.
Me: (turning back to group) Yeah?
Gal: I'm sorry, that was rude. You came over and asked how we were doing and nobody said anything. I just wanted to say sorry.
I was impressed. Out of all the many times this situation has happened, this was the only time anyone ever acknowledged that they'd ignored me.

Gal in bathroom stall, on cell phone: Please Marcus, I love you.
I can never truly understand the prevalence of phone calls in the bathroom. Yes, it's quieter there, but still...

Last night, around one o'clock when the bar was mostly cleared out and one of my new best friends was closing out his tab.
Guy: (Commenting on the hiphop playing on the radio) This is music that makes you wanna dance. You gonna dance?
Me: No.
Guy: You know you wanna dance.
Me: No, I'm good.
Guy: You'd dance if you were buzzed.
Me: It's possible.
Guy: I'm a little buzzed. (Which would be accurate if you replaced the word "buzzed" with "drunk" and deleted the "little.") What are you doing on Sunday?
See, Jenny? These are the kinds of pick up lines I get. Notice any suaveness? Any at all?

I would say that K.C. is my favorite of all the door guys who have come through the bar. Nice guy, good at telling the drunk guy trying to get in while holding a plastic cup of beer from another bar that he can't, and he tells me things like: I can't let you in. You must be this *hold up hand* tall to get in.
Me: Don't make me have to beat you.
K.C.: Oh, beat me. Please.

Or, tonight when I walked outside and hunkered down a bit by the wall.
Me: This is the first time in a couple hours that I've been able to really bend my knees. I'm taking advantage of it.
K.C.: Just don't let anyone think you're getting ready to do something else while you're down there.
Me: Thanks.
K.C.: I mean it, there's a lot of drunks around here. They might start thinking something.
Me: Is your mind always in the gutter?
K.C.: Yup. I try to keep it there so it doesn't get hurt falling down.

My New Bestest Friend, Pedro

This weekend was/is the Chile and Frijole festival which means that the downtown area is taken over, parking sucks, and the bar gets very busy. I have been not looking forward to it for about a month, but now it is over and it wasn't so bad as I feared. Granted, there were those folks who I would have preferred stayed home, but what can one do? Besides, I found myself in a freakishly good mood today and it refused to abate, even after the whole affair with Pedro.

Pedro comes in with a few other people. He opens a tab and buys lots of drinks for him and the people he came in with. Pedro then joins another table which is all guys and proceeds to buy more drinks. He's very smiley, very chipper, and asks me my name and astrological sign twice. A few hours go buy, during which he runs up a $120 tab, tells me that his buddy thinks I'm *something involving being a superlative thing on two legs, I forget exactly what* and tells me how wonderful I am, how I've taken such great care of them, etc. After the first few times I'm wonderful, my Spidey sense gets tingling, and I start to think that Pedro is going to leave a crappy tip.

The other guys at the table are also running a tab, and drinking much slower than my new best friend Pedro. The guy who's apparently in love with me is nice enough, but says Pedro is putting words in his mouth. I bring them all a pitcher of water and am once again the greatest waitress in the world.

At one point the gal who Pedro has bought drinks for but is no longer sitting with comes up to me and tells me to close out Pedro's tab:
Me: Well, it's his tab, I need to make sure he's ready to close it.
Pedro's cousin: I'm his cousin and we want to get him out of here and you should've stopped serving him two drinks ago anyway.
Me: If he wants to close his tab, I'll close it.
Pedro's cousin is not happy with me. She's also not paying me. I'm inclined not to care. Pedro's not ready to leave. A while later Pedro's cousin corners Sophia and says something about how I'm a bad waitress and I've served her cousin too much alcohol, irresponsibility, etc. Julia pulls me aside: "Is there a problem? You need my help?"
Me: "Nah, I'm good. I'm ignoring her now and she's not trying to push it any further."

Pedro's cousin sits quietly until Pedro is ready to go. He and his buddies ask for their tabs. I run Pedro's credit card and pick up the slip before he leaves (Spidey sense, remember?) expecting blanks where he was supposed to fill in the tip and total. I was close, instead of writing numbers, he wrote squiggles. I show it to John, "Can you read that?" I snag Pedro when he walks by my station.

Me: Hey, I can't quite read your writing here. Can you tell me the amounts so I can write them in?
Pedro: What?
Me: Can you tell me what you wrote for the tip so I can do the total?
Pedro: Five dollars.
Me: A five dollar tip on a $120 tab?
Pedro: Yeah.
John (who was walking by, jumps in): Are you serious? You're only going to leave a $5 tip on a $120 tab? You know, you really shouldn't be going to bars if that's what you're going to do.
Pedro: (defensive-like) I never said I wasn't going to leave her more money. (Which, in theory would indicate he would be giving me cash, right?)

I pick up the cash for the other guys' tab - an okay tip. They all leave. Pedro leaves me no additional cash to compensate for the crap tip. But, he told me how great and wonderful and super fantastico I am a million times. Apparently, he prefers to tip in compliments rather than cash.

I mention Pedro's deceit to John, 'cause he wanted to know how it all came out.
John: You okay?
Me: Yeah, I'm fine.
John: Not upset?
Me: No, not so much. I saw it coming, and he was entertaining. The entertainment value helps make up for it.
John: Really?
Me: Yup. I'm in a good mood tonight.

Of course, now that we know who Pedro is, if he should deign to return to our humble establishment we'll be able to see him coming. The special part about running a tab and using a credit card is now we even know his name. Still, like I told John, I'm not particularly angry at being given a roughly 5% tip as thanks for "wonderful" service. I think I'm either getting used to the cheapskates or I have a severe chemical inbalance in my brain. Maybe I need to get me some pills. The colorful kind.

Some More Bar-Related Comments

"I specifically give you my name when I greet your table for a reason. The reason being I do not answer to 'Hey you, Ma'am, waitress, hon, honey, babe, sweetheart, psssst' or snapping fingers. Thanks."
-Kim, from Stained Apron

I've been reading through various waitstaff written websites and blogs, and while we're on the same page most of the time, there are a couple things we differ on.

1. Separate Checks: there's a big anti-separate feeling on a lot of these sites. For me, though, I'm a big fan. Tables who pay all on one check often, though not always, tip poorly (or sometimes not at all). In part, I think it's oversight - people think of covering their drink/food/etc. and forget to cover their portion of the tip. In part, it's being cheap - a "my buddy will cover the tip" mentality. So, yeah, I'm all for separate checks when people are accountable for exactly what they ordered and how much they are, or aren't, tipping.

My only beef with separate checks is when I have tables who come in, stay for an hour or more, order multiple drinks and food, and only when they ask for the check do they ask for multiples. Then, I've had to stand there for a minute or two saying "and you had the __, right?" Talk about pain in the ass. I've gotten to the point that one of the questions I ask the most, right up there with "Do you guys want some popcorn" is "Are these together or separate?" Some folks remember to tell you at the beginning, many don't. I try to avoid later confusion by clearing up the issue right away.

2. Names. I don't give mine unless I'm asked. Last night a gal asked (She also brought her chihuahua into the bar, but she knows Marianne so it's okay. The chihuahua's name is Tinkerbell). She also said something like, "You never told us your name" as if I had committed a great sin. Good god! I didn't tell her my name! I must now do penance.

The bottom line: People who know my name know me. Most customers don't know me, thus they don't need my name. Regular customers and/or those I'm friendly with know my name. The random patron who comes in for a single drink doesn't need my name. Really. All they need to know is approximately what I look like (though, even on that count, it's far from guaranteed that they'll pay much attention).

A while back, bartender John and I had the name conversation, and I was glad that I'm not the only one who skips introducing themself. His comments were along the line of "As soon as people know your name, they act like they're your buddy. I don't want to be their buddy. They don't get to know my name."

Waiter Rant

Sometimes, after a rougher-than-usual night, or one like last when I have that table that leaves a $2 tip on a $50+ ticket, then the one right after them that leaves no tip on a $16 round, I start to feel a bit crabby. Sometimes, in talking about it, I feel kind of whiney. Then, I spend some time reading something like http://waiterrant.net/ and I don't feel so bad any more.

I think it's time for a new link collection.

Huzzah!

"You can tell whoever you want, 'cause it's official now."
-Katherine

Okay, the big important meeting was about who's going to replace Dr. Sheidley as the head of the English department. And the winner is (drumroll)... Katherine. I had a hunch she'd get it, and there you have it. I'm excited on her behalf. If anyone should be running the department, it's her.

Big News, but Not Yet

Me: So, you're feeling less stressed, at least?
Katherine: Maybe, maybe not.

Over the past two weeks or so, Katherine's been very tense. Basically: a big decision's being made at the university which is all hush-hush and such. So, Katherine mentions that she's stressed about an upcoming meeting, then when I ask what it's about, she says she can't say. Like that's fair. Then, via a grapevine source, I find out what's going on.

The big meeting was last Wednesday. Katherine knows the decision, but she's keeping her best poker face on. "I can't tell you until they make the announcement." Now, while part of me can understand and appreciate her discretion, the other part just wants to KNOW already. Though, I have a good hunch as to the outcome.

Of course, she assures me that I'll be among the first to know. But she knows now, I want to know now. Alas, I cannot. *Sigh*

Buttons & Omens

It's only "Monday" and I've already lost a button on my new shirt. This does not bode well.

Then again, yesterday, on real Monday, I made the best Rouladen ever. Hrm, you think they balance each other out?

I'll Be Watching You

A couple of years ago I went through a watch phase. It all started when I found a silver watch abandoned in a drawer at the Raptor Center. This watch was great because the band was solid and I could attach it to my belt loop so I didn't need to wear it on my wrist. Then I made belt-loop watch, then I made a couple of watch necklaces. This is one, Camii has another. I liked the whole functional jewelry idea, though I've since stopped wearing watches of any variety and now rely on my cell phone as a time keeper. Though, now that I'm talking about my belt-loop watch, I kind of want to take it out of retirement.

Anyhow, this necklace was made when I bought a watch, then butchered it for the face. They do sell watch faces by themselves, specifically for beaders, but cannibalism was cheaper and I was able to find a watch face I liked better than what the bead shop offered. I added seed beads and semi-precious chips to make a wrist watch into a neck watch.

Water

Movie Review: Water. Set in 1930's India, this film addresses the status of widows at the time. There's a lot of interesting social commentary, though not a lot of emotion from the characters. Even when there's a death, the actors remain stoic. I struggled with that, but in the end the story came to a potent climax and I was sold on the film. I like it. The plot makes me think of how I want to write stories that do what this movie did. Anything I wish I could write gets my vote as something that should be watched. Go check it out.

Today I Met an Alpaca Rancher

"You just click with the people you click with." (Places too, I'll add)
-Constance

Constance, a friend from school, had a party today at her home in Wetmore. No one else from the university made it, save one person who had come and gone by the time I got there, so I got to meet lots of new folk, including a gal who raises Alpaca for their wool. I also got to get to know Constance & Jim's kids a bit more (they're between six and twelvish) and meet the newfoundland dog, Tzar.

Constance & Jim's house is old and has a lot of little rooms and it seems to double back on itself a few times. It's also filled with wonderful antique furniture, including a woodstove, and unexpected artifacts. The house sits on a few acres which are partly overrun with oak trees, which accounts for the acorns everywhere, and it has a lovely patio where we spent a good portion of the party.

I think that at some point, I would like a house just like it, except maybe smaller. Wetmore's total population is about five hundred people, and it's about half an hour from either of the two nearest cities. Not too bad, but out where you can be quiet. Perfect for having a monstrous dog, like Tzar, and sitting on a swing that looks out over lots of landscape and few houses.

Imagine it: I'll have my rural house where sometimes the snow's too bad to get out so I have to stay at home in front of my wood burning fireplace and drink hot chocolate while I read a book, write a story, watch a movie, or just take a long bath and watch the snow come down past the window. In the summer, the trees will get green and shade the patio to keep it cool. The monstrous dog and I (or maybe the horse and I) will wander about and see what's growing. In the fall, the color show of changing leaves will be right out my window. It's an idea I've had in my mind for a while - not just since today - but going up to Wetmore brought it out vividly.

Tonight I came home smelling of woodsmoke and with the sound of acorns crunching underfoot still fresh in my mind.

New Stuff of the Week Feature

In honor of this being the blog's 300th post, I'm going to introduce a new weekly feature: Bar quotes. People seemed entertained by my recent post about memorable conversations I've had with drunks, so I'm going to give a shot at making it a regular addition. So, my plan is to continue with the jewelry of the week on Mondays and have Bar stories/quotes of the week on the weekends, while it's all still fresh in my mind and still sticky on my shoes. Here are this week's contributions:

Guy: (Just after I took his buddy's order) And let's get some love for Alex! (I still don't know whether the guy or the buddy is Alex - I opted not to ask)

Elderly guy: (Giving me a tip) This is for you, little girl. (I guess it's all relative, right?)

A regular: These guys go to bars looking for women, but they've got it wrong. You go to the bar to avoid the women.

There are a lot of nights I don't mind working at the bar. Nights like Wednesday when people are pleasant and it never gets so slow I start going crazy. Then there are nights like the one I just got home from. Busy, busy around happy hour. Everyone and their dog wanted food. Pain in the ass, needy tables galore. Then, as soon as reinforcements arrive (i.e. Brandi) it dies.

In anticipation of a midnight rush when Oktoberfest ends, I stick around for two hideously boring hours just to realize that there will be no midnight rush and that, had I left hours ago, Brandi would have been totally fine without me and I wouldn't have the headache I have from the jukebox being turned up so damn loud because when Julia gets bored, she likes lots of noise. The next couple are from tonight.

Guy from the other night who thinks I need to smile at him: (Walks half way across the bar just to stand next to me until I'm forced to look at him so he can say something "cute" which I've since forgotten, save that it was annoying)
Me: (Something noncommittal, reflexive smart-ass upturn of corners of mouth)
Guy: (Looking very pleased with himself) See? There's that smile. (Walks half way back across the bar to sit down and order a drink)
I try to give people the benefit of the doubt when it comes to obnoxious behavior, but the fact that he's intentionally going out of his way to make me pay attention to him is getting on my nerves in a major way. Not only is there no way I'm going to flirt with him due to the fact that he's a regular, but there's also no way that I'm going to flirt with him thanks to the fact that he's not only old enough to be my father, but he is in fact older than my father. Okay, and there's the annoying the hell out of me factor too.

There's a guy who wanders into the bar from time to time. He speaks in such a way that he's incoherent half the time, and he just has a certain off-ness to him. Once, he asked me my name three times in two hours and told me, "You have a good peace in your heart," while holding onto my hand and repeating himself a dozen times. Tonight he seemed a bit more off than usual. I walked up to the computer, he was standing in front of it.
Me: Excuse me.
Crazy guy: (nothing)
Me: (Louder) Pardon me.
Crazy guy:
Me: (Tap on the shoulder) Excuse me, I have to get in here.
Crazy guy:
Me: (A more forceful tap on the shoulder, louder voice) Excuse me.
Crazy guy: (Turns around, notices me) You're pretty.

Later, I wandered to the front and chatted with our doorguy K.C. for a while. I mentioned the crazy guy.
K.C.: Yeah, if I had recognized him I wouldn't have let him in.
Me: Oh yeah?
K.C.: Yeah. The other night I found him peeing against the door over there.
Me: Crazy people. We do have a bathroom after all.
K.C.: Tell me about it. Next time, I won't let him in, and if he asks me why, I'll beat him down and pee on him.
Me: Let me know before you do it so I can watch.
K.C.: Of course.

Girl: We wanna get some chips and salsa.
Me: Sorry, the kitchen's closed.
Girl: (Snotty) We just want chips and salsa.
Me: The kitchen's closed.
Girl: (higher pitched) Even for chips and salsa?
Me: There's no one to make it, 'cause the kitchen's closed.
Girl: But it's just chips and salsa!
Me: How are you guys doing on your drinks?
Group: (ignores the question)
Me: (walking away)

And last, but not least, from the big table in the front who caused me more than their fair share of frustration.

Guy: Do you have kids menus?
Me: No.
Would you believe it? I work at a place with Tavern in the name and we still get asked for children's menus and booster seats. No, we do not have kid's menus. It's way too hard to find martini glasses that small.

Guy 1: We're ready to order dinner.
Me: Okay, what'll you have?
Guy 1: I'll have... (looks at menu) the soup and sandwich. What are your sandwiches?
Me: They're right here (point)
Guy 1: Hrm... What kind of bread are your sandwiches on?
Me: Baguette. (just like it says in the menu)
Guy 1: All right... I'll have ham and cheddar.
Me: (turning to Guy 2) What would you like?
Guy 2: (points to menu) Which of these three would you recommend?
Me: Fish and chips.
Guy 2: Hrm...
Me: (to girl sitting in guy's lap, to give guy some time to decide) And how about you?
Girl: (confers with guy) I want a BLT.
Me: And what do you want for your side? (I rattle off the sides)
Girl: Potato chips.
Me: (turning back to guy) What've you decided?
Guy 2: I want the Shepherd's pie.
Okay, I won't go through the rest because I think you get the idea. The highlight was when I got to the gal who, while I waited, read the menu to the two boys next to her and asked what they wanted to share. This is not what "ready to order" means. It really isn't. Especially not when I've got two other tables I know are waiting on me and three others that I really ought to check on.

The best part - at the end of their visit, and all the many trips they sent me on, back and forth, for one item at a time, like another wine glass because one of the kids claimed one for their soda, then how about a glass of water, oh yeah and another - they left me a 10% tip.

I try not to whine about tips all the time (really, I try) but sometimes it's hard not to get frustrated. Even harder when, fifteen minutes later, another table (with a $50 ticket) leaves no tip at all. Yup, it was one of those nights. They are good, however, for reassuring me that going to college was probably a good idea.

Why Aren't You Smiling?

Guy: (Because I wasn't smiling) Why are you so unhappy?
Me: I'm just not a naturally smiley person.

I wish that people would pay me money when they ask this question. It'd make me less irritated and help pay my bills. Apparently, part of my job as bar wench is to be so ecstatically happy during my whole shift that I smile hugely for 6-10 hours straight. I continuously get some wise-ass or another asking me why I'm not smiling. Granted, this has decreased since I began the practice of having my "bar face" wherein I've conditioned myself to look happy all the damn time (or, at least try).

There's one regular, in particular, who is very concerned with my state of facial expression. Last night may have shut him up (one can only hope) but I doubt it. He's even made these comments to Dave who is one of the most perpetually upbeat people I know.

Last night, I mentioned the comment to Dave, who said something interesting. The general idea of what he said is that when people ask why you're not smiling they're trying to put you on the defensive. It's a power game whereby you have to justify yourself to said person. When asked this question, you can either respond with an explanation of your unhappiness, or assert that yes, you are in fact chipper as hell. Either way, you're called upon to explain your emotional state. Those bastards. I oughtn't need to justify my emotional state to most people, let alone some random guy in a bar.

Besides, I'd like to see him smile every day, the whole day, when he's at his job just to keep people from asking why he's unhappy. It's harder than it looks, bub.

Phone Calls Are Funny

Me, answering phone: Southern Colorado Writing Project.
Male voice: Yeah, I'm calling about the racket ball club.

I'm entertained.

What to Call It?

Now that I've built the etsy.com shop, I find the hardest part of it all is the prose. I make the jewelry. I take pictures of the jewelry, but then I have to describe the jewelry. Not only that, but I have to use descriptive, enticing language when I do. Talking up one's own work is kind of awkward. I have no problem saying, "I love these beads, they're gorgeous," but saying, "I made a gorgeous necklace" is tougher. It's been an exercise in un-humility. Definitely a learning experience.

This brings us to the necklace below. I'd like to offer a couple of this design in my shop, but I'm struggling with what to call it. I need a word that denotes a variety of different elements coming together, and that connotates positive things. So, while I love "goulash" I fear it lacks a bit in terms of class. The best I've come up with so far is "collage." Anyone else have ideas?


Ok, so the necklace itself: A short one, and very dense. I think I have nine strands on it, but don't quote me. It's chock full of blue, gold, and white/clear seed beads with a tad of red, green, and whatever else thrown in. The larger glass beads are blue and blue/green.

Sex Changes, Outlaws, and Murderers

Good movies sometimes run in streaks, and I've been on one lately. Here are the latest, though, I admit my reviews may not be quite as coherent as I usually try for. Hey, it's one o'clock in the morning, cut me some slack.

Orlando: When I read the description of this one, I thought it sounded like it might be interesting. It also sounded like it might be too slow and overly artsy. But, hey, with Netflix's new instant viewing feature, there was no committment whatsoever, so no harm in trying. A bit slow, yes. A bit artsy, yes. There are some scenes which are quite surreal, not even counting the one where Lord Orlando becomes Lady Orlando. A handful of times Tilda Swinton looks directly at the camera in a way that could've been hokey, but they manage to pull it off to great effect. They're these moments of her saying, "Okay, you're with me now, right?" when things get odd. I also am impressed by the premise of immortality as a result of royal decree. That's one I hadn't heard of before. Kudos to Virginia Woolf. Definitely an interesting story. Luckily, Billy Zane's part is very small. Dunno what exactly it is, but he just looks overly strange to me, to the point of distracting. Bonus: Queen Elizabeth being played by a man.

3:10 to Yuma: I've been looking forward to this one for a while now, ever since I saw that it not only was a neat looking western, but it also featured Russell Crowe. Then Ebert & Roeper actually liked it, too. I was totally set up to be let down, but it didn't happen. Christian Bale does a good job as a rancher down on his luck who takes the job of escorting the outlaw Ben Wade (Crowe) to meet the train featured in the title. Crowe does a fantastic job as said outlaw. A lot of westerns tend to glamorize the outlaws, they're really good guys, they just rob banks/trains - I mean, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is one of the prime examples. However, in this one, Russell Crowe plays a genuinely ruthless, manipulative, merciless killer. Well, except it's not quite so cut and dry. This flick is one of my favorite Crowe performances ever, the ways he plays with the character impressed me to no end, and I don't know if anyone else could have pulled off the ending so well. Man, he was at the top of his game. Even if you're not a fan of westerns, this is a great movie to see for pure character value. Bonus: an appearance by Alan Tudyk as the doctor.

Perfume: Story of a Murderer: It says right in the title what you're getting yourself into, so it's no surprise that Ben Whishaw's character turns out to be a serial killer. What is a surprise is how well the film makers create sympathy/empathy for him despite the fact. Yes, he's killing people, but... Great acting jobs all round, and Dustin Hoffman and Alan Rickman make appearances as supporting characters. I heard there was a twist ending, and I kept trying to figure out what, but still ended up surprised. Not all that common, so they get extra points for that. Also wonderfully done was the twisted, macabre humor that snuck in here and there, and the visual experience itself. Talk about using shadows to their fullest extent, seeing Whishaw's face slowly emerge into the light is a truly creepy experience. It's not the fasted moving film, nor the most action packed, but for story and character development, it's among one of the top movies I've seen lately.

Other Wildlife

Early Fall Walk: Bugs

There are a few spots where the trail splits, and today I went right instead of left. I'd never been that way before and felt like seeing what I could see.

When the trail was being built, the concrete didn't stay pristine, so you can find imprints along the path.

As it turns out, it was also a good day for bug sighting.

Grand Junction Necklace

Sorry I've been slacking on the weekly necklaces. Etsy has been my main focus as far as jewelry goes, and I'm slowly but steadily working my way through picking pieces, photographing them, editing the picturs, and posting them in my shop. Whew, much more time consuming than I would've guessed.

Here's the scoop on this nifty necklace: Each bead (except for the silver spacers) in the necklace is from my visit to Camii in July. It started with the wonderful pendant and went from there. I love the colors, and the way it came together. A pendant and the seed beads at one store, the lava rock and goldstone from another, and the goldstone because it was left over from Camii's ankle bracelets. I keep getting compliments on this one, and I love the story behind it.

Attack of the No Energy Having

"The worst part isn't even the cough, it's feeling so run down."
-Dave, on being sick

I'm supposed to be getting over this cold, and in some ways I am. However, I still feel like bed would be the nicest place to be, or curled up in front of the TV watching X-files. Gah, I have no energy and two papers to write before class tonight, thus requiring energy. I have other things to do, too, but find myself sitting here thinking, "But, I don't wanna."

Maybe, if I get up and get moving, get some momentum behind me, I'll be okay. An object in motion, right? Right. Now, just gotta work on that getting up part...

At the moment, the prospect of going to class tonight is almost more than I can take. I've been up and accomplishing things since 8:30 a.m. The last thing I want to do is be in class until 8:30 p.m. Even funnier - Katherine's in high-stress-mode and distracted & worn out, so today she says, "I don't want to talk a lot tonight. You talk a lot tonight." Ha!

Thank George for other people in the class, especially when one is Rick and the other is Sarah. Betwixt the two of them, I don't think we'll have to worry too much about lags in the talking.

This is Neat

As I was making my rounds, checking out my favorite blogs, I found this. Very cool.
http://polymerclaydaily.com/2007/09/06/grouping/

Being Hit On/Drunkards

Jenny: So, have you ever been asked out in a suave manner?
Me: Nope.

Last night when the rogue writers group gathered at the coffee shop, the conversation at some point hit on being hit on. We did a round question, which revealed that none of the gals in question have ever encountered a "good" pick up line. It begs the question: is there any such thing? For my part, I'd say nope.

Think on that, then think on me working at a bar where random guys come to find girlies. Unlike said girlies, I do not go to the bar to be bought drinks or find random guys. I go there so I can make money to pay for stuff.

Granted, some of my coworkers aren't opposed to meeting random guys, and young Dave is currently dating a gal he met when she came in for drinks, so I'm not saying that it's impossible, or even unlikely that things could work out that way. I'm just saying - not with me. The last place I would be interested in meeting a guy is at a bar, especially the one where I work.

Anyhow, last night Jenny made the comment that I probably have some funny being hit on stories. I thought I would share some of my favorites. While not exactly verbatim, here are the jist of some incidents which exemplify my no-bar-guys policy.

Foosball guy (who I loathe): Hey, you single?
Me: Nope.
Foosball guy: You were last week.
Me: Actually, I haven't been single for a couple years now.
Foosball guy: Nuh uh.
Me: Yuh huh. I keep track, really.

Guy: You have a great name. Wanna marry me?
Me: No, I'm good.
Guy: Seriously. If I weren't already married, I'd marry you.
Me: Best of luck with that having a wife thing.
Guy: I mean it, if it doesn't work out with your boyfriend...
Me: Yeah, sure I'll give you a call.
Guy: Awesome. High five!
(Left me a shit tip, too)

This one needs a bit of preface. One night way back when I was still in the kitchen, i.e. done at nine, I clocked out and headed downstairs where trivia was going on. I figured I'd chat with Julia (who was bartending) and talk with Marianne about something. A while later...
Julia: Uh oh watch out.
Andy: (who comes right up to me) Hi, I'm Andy. What's your name?
Me: Ali.
Andy: You waiting for someone?
Me: (who answered too fast, and thus, truthfully) No.
Andy: Can I buy you a drink?
Me: No, I'm alright.
Now, fast forward five minutes later when he's still trying to chat me up even though I repeatedly give monosyllabic answers, focus on talking with Julia, and do my best to completely ignore him.
Andy: Blah blah blah.
Me: Look, I'm not here to meet people.
Andy: Blah, blah, blah.
Me: I'm just waiting to talk to my boss before I go home.
Andy: Blah, blah, blah.
Me: Seriously, just leave me alone.
At which point he finally leaves. Dumbass. He's now one of the foosball guys and one of the biggest reasons I love that Katherine's class is on foosball night.

This next one is the abbreviated version, I think said guy was trying to chat me up for maybe fifteen minutes all together.
Guy sitting right next to my work station: Working hard? (Or some similar annoying small talk)
Me: Yup. (I put something in the computer and walk away, so he waits until I come back)
Guy: You've been working here long?
Me: Yup. (Pick up drinks, drop them off, come back)
Guy: Hey, why don't you want to talk to me?
Me: I'm busy.
Guy: (Obviously frustrated) Well, I don't think you're very nice.
Me: Nope, I'm not.
Guy: (Finally shuts up, leaves shortly thereafter).

Now, technically these next ones aren't exactly me getting hit on. But, they're funny.

Metal guy: You know, you should totally listen to some metal.
Me: No, I'm okay.
Metal guy: Really. It'll like totally free your mind.
Me: I've listened to metal. I don't care for it.
Metal guy: Metal is awesome. You'd like it.
Me: Actually, my boyfriend likes it. Anytime I go somewhere with him, I'm forced to listen to it. I loathe metal. Honestly.
Metal guy: No, it's great. You'd like it, I promise.

Andy (same one as before, on a foosball night): Hey, can I get an Arrogant Bastard?
Me: The bartender stepped outside for a minute.
Andy: (waits a bit, looks at me again) Can you get me an Arrogant Bastard?
Me: Just wait a sec. the bartender will be right back.
Andy: I'll give you a dollar if you get me an Arrogant Bastard and bring it down to me.
Me: You'll have to wait for the bartender.
Note: By this point I've given up on all foosballers because they piss me off and never tip, so I found his offer to tip me, as if it's a big ol' favor, particularly hilarious. The [expletive] can keep his dollar. Probably has diseases on it anyway.

To preface this next one - this was last thing on a Wednesday night, as Dave was closing the place down and I was closing out my bank, etc. There are only three of us in the bar.
Bob(who's in his sixties, an old friend of Dave's and who's had a few by now): I haven't been laid in a long time.
Dave: Sorry to hear that.
Bob: (to me) Have you been laid lately?
Me: I'm not going to answer that.
Bob: Man, I need to get laid. When's the last time you got laid?
Me: I'm still not answering.
Dave: Hey, cut it out.
Bob. I mean it, when's the last time you got laid?
Dave: (to me) Don't answer that. (to Bob) That's totally inappropriate. Stop it.
Bob: I just wanna know the last time she got laid.
Dave: You need to stop it right now.
Bob: I'm just asking a question.

Etsy Shop

If you build it, they will come. Right? Well, it's built.

http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5284452