June 25th just passed and I am happy to announce that I survived the day unscathed. The last couple of June 25ths have been kind of rough....
June 25, 2009
Annual field trip to Dorney Park in Pennsylvania. I get to work around 7 am, the bus containing around twenty-five middle school students, myself, my pregnant co-worker and my terrible co-worker, depart around 8am. The kids are obviously yelling, singing and throwing things. Going to be a fun day, going to be a fun day. We arrive in PA a few hours later. In an attempt to go with the flow, I go on various rides and run around the park with the kids. A few hours later, I can't move. I feel incredibly sick. I'm laying on a bench. Pregnant co-worker lying next to me. We are possibly dying. Word gets in that King of Pop Michael Jackson has died. ARE YOU KIDDING?! SO SAD!! Kids go missing. We have to get security. We finally get everyone together oh around maybe 8pm or so and get back on the bus. The bus breaks down multiple times on the way home. I feel like I'm going to die. We get back to the school past eleven. Other kids are waiting there, one with a knife. Of course. A couple of my students live in East New York aka not so nice, so I ride the subway with them to make sure they get home safe. I get home around midnight. I feel TERRIBLE. I have to get up early the next morning. I'm catching a ride with my friend's boyfriend to Boston for a mini-getaway. I have not seen my friend in forever and am very excited. But, I am SICK. I of course have the runs. Ah, terrible. I barely eat at our dinner and keep running out in the middle of "Up". I need to go to bed. In the middle of the night, I get up to go to the bathroom and pass the fuck out. My friend heard me crash and ran in. She drove me to my parents' house an hour away early the next morning. So much for catching up. I proceeded to be sick for the next ELEVEN days. I am fairly certain I had swine flu or something but I have been pretty anti-roller coasters ever since.
June 25, 2010
Dorney Park field trip AGAIN. Bus leaves at 8am. This time I'm riding with my co-worker who plays the trumpet in her cult's band (dead serious) and my other co-worker who only dates married men. Plus all of those kids. Aaaah. The bus is moving along, wheels going round and round. The bus driver all of a sudden pulls into a giant entrance. He seems proud. He has pulled into, wait for it, SIX FLAGS IN NEW JERSEY. Congratulations, you are an idiot. We are going to PENNSYLVANIA. This is the same driver that on the way to field day when he took the wrong exit, thought it would be an excellent idea to put the bus in reverse and BACK ONTO THE HIGHWAY. Ummmm...So anyway. Since we are all paid for Dorney Park, he turns the bus around and we are back on the road. THREE more hours go by until we reach our destination. The day is of course HELL. I quit two weeks later.
June 25, 2011
The worst part about this day is that my contact got lost in my eye for around thirty minutes. That actually was quite terrible. But! It came to and I could see again. Victory! This year on this date, I got up really early to volunteer with the kitties at BARC. Fell in love with one kitten in particular who kept jumping out of the cage to land on my chest. Adorbs! Post cats, I ran into a friend who had me come over for a minute to meet her cat and then I pet a cat on a street. So many cats! I ran a few miles, so fit, so fun. Then went into Manhattan to, you guessed it!, check in on a cat I was sitting for the weekend. At night, I worked a hip hop karaoke event. Kind of intense. BUT! I did acquire a gold tasseled stick that is legit taller than me. All and all, win and win.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Fat Does Not Flush!
I'm pretty smart, but sometimes I can be an idiot.
For instance, tonight I made a KILLER burger on the good ol' George Forman-knock out the fat! It was divine! I even melted Babybell cheese on it! BUT. I decided it would be a good idea to pour the grease into the toilet. BAD IDEA. Grease does not flush. I tried multiple times but then had to resort to scooping the fat out with a plastic cup. Ah, really?!
Reminds me of Slash (my beloved dead cat). When he was a little tyke, he used to poop under my old school claw tub. I had to pick up his goods and flush them in the toilet. One time, he went so much under there that my toilet got clogged. My cat clogged my toilet. Aah...
This also reminds me of when I helped my cousin paint her apartment. She pulled an idiot and poured the left over paint down the tub. Her then boyfriend was definitely like, "Katie! What are you doing?!" "Ugh, I really messed up this time."
For instance, tonight I made a KILLER burger on the good ol' George Forman-knock out the fat! It was divine! I even melted Babybell cheese on it! BUT. I decided it would be a good idea to pour the grease into the toilet. BAD IDEA. Grease does not flush. I tried multiple times but then had to resort to scooping the fat out with a plastic cup. Ah, really?!
Reminds me of Slash (my beloved dead cat). When he was a little tyke, he used to poop under my old school claw tub. I had to pick up his goods and flush them in the toilet. One time, he went so much under there that my toilet got clogged. My cat clogged my toilet. Aah...
This also reminds me of when I helped my cousin paint her apartment. She pulled an idiot and poured the left over paint down the tub. Her then boyfriend was definitely like, "Katie! What are you doing?!" "Ugh, I really messed up this time."
Blind Chick
I saw a really hot blind chick the other day with a guy. I just kept thinking, she could do so much better, she has no idea! I suppose he must have a winning personality. Blind people can't be too shallow I guess. Except that they do have to feel their way. And maybe they are repulsed more by scents. Hmmm...
Some characters
I'm always meeting characters. I had a marathon work week last week and the characters were like cockroaches coming out of the woodwork.
One night this guy kept telling me he loved me and some other odd stuff. He was a big, burly man. My co-worker thought he was autistic. Irrelevant. Anyway, he came back two nights later. I asked him if he had fun at the other show. He said he did have fun but got into some bad luck right after. He was running to catch his bus in front of Penn Station and tripped and broke his chest. BROKE HIS CHEST. Um. Yeah. He told me he had to go to the ER and everything but that there is not much they can do for a broken chest. I asked if he got some painkillers. He replied that he said no to the drugs, they don't mix well with alcohol and he'd rather drink. Okay, buddy.
This past Sunday was kind of sad at work. The last two bands were guys and gals in their late fifties and there was only like one person there to see them. It made me SO SAD for them. I tried to clap really loud but I've never been able to get a lot of sound out of these hands. The bass player of the last band said that he plays for empty rooms so much it's sick. SAD!!! But at least they're still rockin'?! Their one fan was an AWESOME lady. The dreads on this dude in the bar reminded her of Bob Marley which reminded her of her dead brother. He brother got killed in a car crash years ago. She got on a tragedy or emergency flight or whatever it is called from New York to Las Vegas where her brother was. She then said she was the only woman on the flight and that there were a bunch of "skinheads with combat boots" on the plane. A bunch of "hot, young men". I don't generally equate skinheads with hot men but to each their own Finally, one of them approached her and said on behalf of the air force (or national guard or whatever she said), they would like to wish her their condolences. The amazing lady said this is just like a prank her brother would do. He must be doing this from the grave. He used to do a bunch of nuts shit that would get her in trouble. Like the time he told authorities at the airport she had a ton of drugs on her. Ah. Yeah. ANYWAY. So the band's one fan then gets into how she is of Native American descent and there were all these legit WARRIORS who had to drive and steal her brother's body and bring it back to the reservation. The funeral, etc, was beautiful though. The cremation process takes three hours so the badass lady and her friends went to dinner to kill time. While they were leaving, the smell of ganza filled the air. Evidently, her brother loved the stuff, so the lady and all of his friends and family threw in an ounce or so with his body and now that was burning along with it. She said the smell was so strong she was surprised the popo didn't come. Aaah....
During one of those marathon nights, there was a Justin Bieber-esque guy singing country meets frat songs. So many B-lites did I serve. This one guy that was annoying the shit out of me, told me he brought the singer over for me. He thought this would impress me. UM, NO. He then told me to get the performer a drink. I was like dude doesn't even look 21. Not doing it.
Another night, this one guy tipped me ONE QUARTER on THREE DRINKS. I gave him back his quarter. I felt feisty and really wanted to sock it to him but miraculously refrained. I told my security guard I wanted to yell at that guy, big time. Security guard was like, oh like the time you yelled "Hey you, red stripe shirt dick!" I had forgotten about that. I was going to see a show at a different venue and my friend was working and pointed out a guy who was giving him a hard time. I was sort of in a mood at the time so I yelled, "Hey you, red stripe shirt dick!" and maybe flipped him off? Or something like that. Not nice. Not nice at all. But moral of story, be polite!
I was also reminded today of a few weeks ago at work. There was this legit 80 year-old white man pimped out in a suit. He had his arms draped around two African queens. For the ladies, he bought two hennesseys on the rocks. For me, he did not leave a tip. Guess I'm not his type.
One night this guy kept telling me he loved me and some other odd stuff. He was a big, burly man. My co-worker thought he was autistic. Irrelevant. Anyway, he came back two nights later. I asked him if he had fun at the other show. He said he did have fun but got into some bad luck right after. He was running to catch his bus in front of Penn Station and tripped and broke his chest. BROKE HIS CHEST. Um. Yeah. He told me he had to go to the ER and everything but that there is not much they can do for a broken chest. I asked if he got some painkillers. He replied that he said no to the drugs, they don't mix well with alcohol and he'd rather drink. Okay, buddy.
This past Sunday was kind of sad at work. The last two bands were guys and gals in their late fifties and there was only like one person there to see them. It made me SO SAD for them. I tried to clap really loud but I've never been able to get a lot of sound out of these hands. The bass player of the last band said that he plays for empty rooms so much it's sick. SAD!!! But at least they're still rockin'?! Their one fan was an AWESOME lady. The dreads on this dude in the bar reminded her of Bob Marley which reminded her of her dead brother. He brother got killed in a car crash years ago. She got on a tragedy or emergency flight or whatever it is called from New York to Las Vegas where her brother was. She then said she was the only woman on the flight and that there were a bunch of "skinheads with combat boots" on the plane. A bunch of "hot, young men". I don't generally equate skinheads with hot men but to each their own Finally, one of them approached her and said on behalf of the air force (or national guard or whatever she said), they would like to wish her their condolences. The amazing lady said this is just like a prank her brother would do. He must be doing this from the grave. He used to do a bunch of nuts shit that would get her in trouble. Like the time he told authorities at the airport she had a ton of drugs on her. Ah. Yeah. ANYWAY. So the band's one fan then gets into how she is of Native American descent and there were all these legit WARRIORS who had to drive and steal her brother's body and bring it back to the reservation. The funeral, etc, was beautiful though. The cremation process takes three hours so the badass lady and her friends went to dinner to kill time. While they were leaving, the smell of ganza filled the air. Evidently, her brother loved the stuff, so the lady and all of his friends and family threw in an ounce or so with his body and now that was burning along with it. She said the smell was so strong she was surprised the popo didn't come. Aaah....
During one of those marathon nights, there was a Justin Bieber-esque guy singing country meets frat songs. So many B-lites did I serve. This one guy that was annoying the shit out of me, told me he brought the singer over for me. He thought this would impress me. UM, NO. He then told me to get the performer a drink. I was like dude doesn't even look 21. Not doing it.
Another night, this one guy tipped me ONE QUARTER on THREE DRINKS. I gave him back his quarter. I felt feisty and really wanted to sock it to him but miraculously refrained. I told my security guard I wanted to yell at that guy, big time. Security guard was like, oh like the time you yelled "Hey you, red stripe shirt dick!" I had forgotten about that. I was going to see a show at a different venue and my friend was working and pointed out a guy who was giving him a hard time. I was sort of in a mood at the time so I yelled, "Hey you, red stripe shirt dick!" and maybe flipped him off? Or something like that. Not nice. Not nice at all. But moral of story, be polite!
I was also reminded today of a few weeks ago at work. There was this legit 80 year-old white man pimped out in a suit. He had his arms draped around two African queens. For the ladies, he bought two hennesseys on the rocks. For me, he did not leave a tip. Guess I'm not his type.
Radiator
I was trying to stretch out my back and get new perspective aka laying upside down the other day. It was a pretty stellar time to say the least. Of course, I decided to backwards roll off of my bed and landed in my radiator. Not so stellar.
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| Stellar Time |
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| Not So Stellar |
Monday, June 20, 2011
Gate Sale!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Last hours as a 26 year-old!
Saturday at work was ridiculous. Shocking I know. First off, the L line was down all weekend so Charlie and I walked to work. How are you going to shut an entire line down?! Anyway. The walking was good for the soul. Put me in prime energy mode. The first band of the night was a Led Zepp cover band, the second a tribute to Black Sabbath. Wowzers!!! Haha. True story, my neck is STILL killing me (three days later) from all of the head banging that I partaked in. Commercial break, how is "partaked" not a real word? Spellcheck is not a fan!! I guess it is because the past tense of partake is really partaken? Je ne sais pas. I like the way partaked sounds. And we're back! The crowds these bands bring in is quite amazing to say the least. This one guy, Richie, a 40 something year-old biker dude, started to talk to me through the window separating my waitress station and the bar. He's from Philly, first time in the city. How are you from Philly and have never been to NYC before?! But. He so slyly passed me a business card. It had "Sabbra Cadabra" (Sabbath tribute name) on the front and his number on the back. HELLOOOO RICHIE!! After these two amaaaazing bands were two bands that I shall not get into and then a LATE LATE show which consisted of Nirvana and Rolling Stones tribute bands. Ummm...seriously?! Ha. The Nirvana one was funny because the singer had a blond wig sitting on his head. It was not even on. It was legit just sitting there. The crowds, the bands....so classic....
The night was also ridiculous because it was my last shift before my birthday and the last shift ever of our beloved and very distinguished co-worker Rich. Rich tried to slip out without telling anyone but he eventually broke the news to Charlie. Charlie is crying hysterically behind the bar, looking quite nuts (yet lovely of course) and I am running around like a crazy and cutting cake. It was SOMETHING.
We didn't get home from work until way past five, but of course we needed to go to Coney Island first thing after our non-sleep. Even though it was cool and cloudy out. Even though the L was still down which meant we walked a few miles over the bridge to the F line in Manhattan.
CONEY ISLAND DID NOT DISAPPOINT. IT NEVER DOES.
It was pretty cold as soon as we got there. We had to rock sweatshirts. We first hit up the Coney flea market and we bought clothes. WHO GOES TO CONEY ISLAND TO BUY CLOTHES?! And not shirts with "Coney Island" written across either. Legit, this is so fashionable and no one will own it shirts...for five dollars! FIVE DOLLARS! This cannot be beat!
Post-flea, we braved the cold and hit up the beach. I think there was sun and warmth for around twenty minutes and we certainly did milk it. I was so out of it, I kept forgetting that putting my hands in the sand and then on my face is a bad idea. Lots of sand in my mouth and also eyes. Great exfoliant granted, but who needs their eyes exfoliated??
When the beach got too cold, we went to Beer Island. That place is just full of characters. All the guys that work there are totally tweaked out and the ladies, well the ladies are something. The ladies and the guys together, REALLY SOMETHING. Charlie and I of course had one Mike's Hard Lemonade each. To wash down the acid, I ate a funnel cake. It was delicious. My meals that day: egg and cheese with tomato, funnel cake, candy apple, nuts, one Mike's Hard Lemonade, two cokes (cola!), one corona, a meatball and some pasta. Hmmm...Why does my stomach kill?!
We got restless at Beer Island and hit up the rides. I am 100% sure there is no way to accurately describe how crazy and very five years-old we look on the Thunder Bolt. Um yeah.
Since we are free spirits who love to try new things, we hit up the much talked about Cha Cha Bar. LIVE MUSIC! This video is totally leaning on its side and I have no idea why. You should lie on your side when you watch it.
Of course we made friends with the dudes. And we were the only people there after the dancers peaced out. The singer approached us and asked us what we were drinking. Coca cola we said. Aah, he probably thought we were like 16. He bought us another round ha. The problem with friending the gents is that we were fading fast and they were only playing for us. We did not know how to leave. Finally, we ran over to them between songs and said our goodbyes. The picture is of the singer. I wish the picture was of his ass. He was wearing legit lady yoga pants. His ass was quite plump.
We got second and third winds by going on more rides. Ha. We are literally five except with more energy.
The train ride home was classic. We friended a four year-old who is nearly as tall as me (no joke) and her mom. And we sang nursery rhymes with them for oh 45 minutes. At one point, these two drunk guys came on and also were singing with us. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. True story. Life really does seem like one weird dream to me.
I did not get home til around 11pm. I was tiredly walking around my room and then the candle holder on this little shelf in my room falls off of the shelf and onto my head. This hurts like you would not believe. Ice had to come into play. This has been set up like this for two years now. Never has anything fallen from the shelf. And how is something falling as I am under it and I am rarely just sitting under that shelf? REALLY?! Professor Plum did it in the bedroom with the candle stick!
The night was also ridiculous because it was my last shift before my birthday and the last shift ever of our beloved and very distinguished co-worker Rich. Rich tried to slip out without telling anyone but he eventually broke the news to Charlie. Charlie is crying hysterically behind the bar, looking quite nuts (yet lovely of course) and I am running around like a crazy and cutting cake. It was SOMETHING.
We didn't get home from work until way past five, but of course we needed to go to Coney Island first thing after our non-sleep. Even though it was cool and cloudy out. Even though the L was still down which meant we walked a few miles over the bridge to the F line in Manhattan.
CONEY ISLAND DID NOT DISAPPOINT. IT NEVER DOES.
It was pretty cold as soon as we got there. We had to rock sweatshirts. We first hit up the Coney flea market and we bought clothes. WHO GOES TO CONEY ISLAND TO BUY CLOTHES?! And not shirts with "Coney Island" written across either. Legit, this is so fashionable and no one will own it shirts...for five dollars! FIVE DOLLARS! This cannot be beat!
Post-flea, we braved the cold and hit up the beach. I think there was sun and warmth for around twenty minutes and we certainly did milk it. I was so out of it, I kept forgetting that putting my hands in the sand and then on my face is a bad idea. Lots of sand in my mouth and also eyes. Great exfoliant granted, but who needs their eyes exfoliated??
When the beach got too cold, we went to Beer Island. That place is just full of characters. All the guys that work there are totally tweaked out and the ladies, well the ladies are something. The ladies and the guys together, REALLY SOMETHING. Charlie and I of course had one Mike's Hard Lemonade each. To wash down the acid, I ate a funnel cake. It was delicious. My meals that day: egg and cheese with tomato, funnel cake, candy apple, nuts, one Mike's Hard Lemonade, two cokes (cola!), one corona, a meatball and some pasta. Hmmm...Why does my stomach kill?!
We got restless at Beer Island and hit up the rides. I am 100% sure there is no way to accurately describe how crazy and very five years-old we look on the Thunder Bolt. Um yeah.
Since we are free spirits who love to try new things, we hit up the much talked about Cha Cha Bar. LIVE MUSIC! This video is totally leaning on its side and I have no idea why. You should lie on your side when you watch it.
We got second and third winds by going on more rides. Ha. We are literally five except with more energy.
The train ride home was classic. We friended a four year-old who is nearly as tall as me (no joke) and her mom. And we sang nursery rhymes with them for oh 45 minutes. At one point, these two drunk guys came on and also were singing with us. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. True story. Life really does seem like one weird dream to me.
I did not get home til around 11pm. I was tiredly walking around my room and then the candle holder on this little shelf in my room falls off of the shelf and onto my head. This hurts like you would not believe. Ice had to come into play. This has been set up like this for two years now. Never has anything fallen from the shelf. And how is something falling as I am under it and I am rarely just sitting under that shelf? REALLY?! Professor Plum did it in the bedroom with the candle stick!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Suspender Dickwad!
It's been almost a week but I am still reeling over the suspender wearing dickwad who was a patron at last Sunday's show. First off, he was not wearing suspenders with purpose. They were not holding anything up whatsoever. If anything, dude looked straight up disheveled. This clown tells my friend he wants to close out his tab so she runs his credit card. Then he pulls major attitude with her and demands how she knew he wanted to use that card. Ah, duh. She calmly explains how when someone says they want to close their tab it usually means they want to pay with the given card but if they prefer to pay a different way, they would mention it. He gets to talking. Evidently, he found some guy's wallet and wanted to use THAT guy's card to pay for his drinks. Suspender Dickwad said he planned to return the wallet and tell the man about the drinks he had purchased. SD thought that it was noble for him to even tell the man. "It's all about community," he kept saying. And we kept saying, "YOU ARE WRONG!" SD argued that the man probably would have rewarded him and that he is saving the man trouble by rewarding himself first. He went on to say, "It's like telling someone you love them first." UM NO!!!! Telling someone you love them first is NOT the same as stealing! No buddy! Can only imagine your childhood. You may think SD was joking but dude was DEAD SERIOUS. I told him we do not care about what he is saying enough to discuss it. He called us bitches. If we see him on the street we may punch him in the throat. Big time.
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