Saturday, January 31, 2009

Double.

Working the Local Liquor Store around eleven this morning. Then a two hour break, then Rock Club. Should be fun, but I'm really looking forward to having tomorrow off and getting some rest. Computer still fucked, so I can't upload NYC pics. The thing isn't even paid for yet and it's already crashed. Not a good sign. Anyway, I'm going to walk the boys before work. Hopefully I'll have something fun to report later.

*Later*
Well, that was exciting. The LLS was particularly busy due to the impending Big Game. Gods I'm glad I no longer work in a sports bar. If I had to work tomorrow I would surely shoot somebody. Anyway, at least most people were in a good mood.

The b.h. has had a tour-related neck injury. No, not the infamous "rock neck", but just as insidious: Couch Neck. Seems he slept somewhere too soft and woke up unable to turn his head much. Thankfully it was the last day and he didn't have to play in that condition. We went to the chiropractor yesterday and he spent the evening on the couch icing and self-medicating whilst I slung drinks.
The first two bands were underwhelming and gay, respectively. First I was exposed to the new 0F M0ntreal record, which was, to put it politely, not my cup of tea. Next was a decent enough band from Nashville, followed by a soul(?) band made up of some Atlanta all-stars. The lead singer was wearing red pants of the new-fangled and short-waisted variety, which rode so low that they didn't even come close to touching his red vest/sleeveless shirt combo. Later I referred to the hair in that part of his mid-section as a Trail of Tears. I had meant to say Happy Trail, but what came out was far more fitting. I don't know who told that guy that those pants were a good idea, but they ought to be slapped.
The Modern Skirts were fantastic, as usual. I don't own and have not heard the new record, but the material they played from it was catchy and fun. It's really cool to see them playing to such a large and responsive crowd, having been there years ago when they sucked out loud to six people. For the encore they brought out members of both opening bands and one Mr. Mike Mills, who sand harmonies and played tambourine. It was great.
Afterward I cleaned up quick, counted my money, and said a quick hello to Phillip and Jojo before taking my leave as quickly as possible.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

It's Up To You.

The restaurant was packed with a hipster brunch crowd of 25 to 35-year old people who looked like they had also just gotten off a plane from Athens. K took my bags and shoved them in a back hallway, and I elbowed my way to the bar, where I was served a fantastic cup of coffee and a tiny dish of fried dough balls (doughnut holes). I ordered eggs florentine and chatted a few minutes with the bartender, who I immediately liked.
After virtually inhaling my food and three cups of coffee, I went out for a stroll to kill some time while K finished up work. Having no real idea where I was going, I just started off in a general direction. It was cold - colder than I expected, and dirty. Walking under a highway overpass it brought to mind a specific corner where I regularly sat at a red light in my old neighborhood in Chicago. There is a specific bus emission/old urine smell that makes me just a bit nostalgic for the late nineties every time, and I was momentarily soaking in it, and it was good.
My phone rang in my pocket. I talked to the b.h. for a moment, remarking that very guy that passed my on the street looked like A.J. (obviously way ahead of his time, fashion-wise, that one), and then begging off the phone because I had left my gloves in my bag and I had to keep my hands in my pocket for fear of them falling off.
I walked about a mile all told, then headed quickly back to the restaurant for another cup of coffee.
By the time K was finished I was nearly vibrating from all of the caffeine. I stopped at the health food store next to the restaurant to replace my Burt's Bees lip balm (Never leave home without it!), which was marked at $4.49, but I was only charged three dollars and change. Sweet! We went back to K's house, where i dropped my bag on the floor in the kitchen in front of the stove. It remained there until I left. We changed clothes and headed out. I thought we were just going for a walk around the neighborhood, so I stopped at a polish bakery and bought some kolackys. We wound up going to dinner in Chinatown and then to drinks afterward, and I lugged those cookies all over town. Whoops. Ah well, they were great for breakfast.
We met several of K's friends for dinner. It was M's birthday. There were eight of us, all women, at a big round table downstairs in this restaurant. It was the beginning of Chinese New Year, so the restaurant was crowded and the whole neighborhood was very lively. One of the girls tried to warm up our waiter by speaking to him in mandarin. It didn't work. We all laughed. We ate a ton, and passed around bottles of bubbly. I was semi-successful in using chopsticks for the first time. I have tried many times over the years, and always wind up asking for a fork. We had already been quite late for our reservation due to a comedy of errors that involved getting on four different trains to get there, so I was afraid to piss of the waiter and opted instead to feed myself messily and awkwardly in a large group of total strangers.
After dinner several of us went for drinks at an over-priced and under-staffed (or perhaps just poorly staffed) bar in Brooklyn. I had a Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout. It was perfect.
After drinks we went back to K's, where I passed out promptly under a large pile of blankets on her air mattress, wearing two shirts, flannel jammy pants, socks, and a hat (her heat is not very reliable, nor are her landlords.) I slept like a baby.

The Starting Gun.

It went off at seven in the morning, at which point the dogs rolled over and looked at me like I was crazy (I was). I hit the snooze button (twice), then dragged my ass downstairs to make coffee. It was still dark outside, which I found highly upsetting. It was also raining steadily, which the boys found upsetting, because they had to go out in it in order to pee.
I went the lazy route and re-heated Friday's coffee in a pint glass in the micro-wave. I was too tired to care how awful it was. I tried to put my suitcase in the car surreptitiously, after feeding the dogs and putting a bit of half and half on their food to distract them. It didn't work. These are smart animals. First they thought "we" were going somewhere, and they got really happy. Then when they realized that only I was getting in the car, they got upset. I left as quickly as possible.
Despite the rain my drive to the airport was fairly easy. I got there and went to the economy parking lot, where I drove up and down every row in the "A" section before landing a spot at the very back.
As I was getting out of the car and retrieving my suitcase from the back seat, I was passed by a courtesy vehicle - I use that term loosely - which was completely devoid of passengers. I flailed my arm for a moment in hopes that it would stop. It didn't. There were no other people in the whole parking lot. I walked to the terminal in the rain, dragging my bags and my coat and cursing the courtesy vehicle, which I found parked on the near side of the lot, the driver smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone.
There was no line at check-in. I checked a bag ($15) because I was bringing two bottles of wine and a tube of toothpaste that was 4.19 ounces for K.
Security was fairly easy since I had left anything questionable (like potentially deadly shampoo and conditioner) in my checked bag. I was therefore quite surprised when I was pulled from line after walking, shoeless, through the metal detector.
"Is this your bag?" asked the young man behind the screening counter.
"Yes."
"Would you come over here with me?" He led me to one of those small cubicles where they open your bag behind a partition so small that everyone in line can see exactly what you've brought. I was more confused than worried, because, as I said, I had packed most of my stuff in my checked bag and had only cold medicine, kleenex, and reading material in my carry on. He rummaged around for a moment, then smiled sheepishly, flapped the bag shut, and handed it back to me.
"Have a good flight."
"Uh... thanks." I pulled my boots on (not to self: D0c Martens not the most convenient footwear for the airport), grabbed my bag, and sat down in the "now that you've been man-handled here's a chair where you can put your shoes on and try to regain your dignity" area. I peered curiously into my bag, wondering what might have given the man pause, and then discovered that I had grabbed my portable cd player out of the car in case of emergency (like a screaming child). The b.h. has the iP0d and I didn't want to be stranded without music. I'm sure that they don't usually find people flying with antique electronic devices, and it probably looked like a potential hazard.
The plane began boarding as soon as I had finished my bagel and cream cheese. I had chosen the window seat in the last row so that I would board quickly and be able to fall asleep without fear of drooling on a stranger. Unfortunately there was no window in the last row, so my claustrophobia was in full gear by the time we took off. Also, the flight was full and the guy next to me was pretty tall and angular, all elbows and knees reaching into my personal space. Luckily I had taken an antihistamine prior to boarding and promptly passed out, missing the pretzels and soda and waking up only when the turbulence started to get serious, which was a minute or two before touchdown.
My bag popped out at the claim area as soon as I got there, and I wove my way through various rip-off artists trying to get me a "flat fee" ride to Brooklyn (only $55!) to the cab stand.
Seventeen dollars (plus tip) and fifteen minutes later, I pulled up in front of the restaurant where K works.

Exhausted.

I'm back, mostly alive, no thanks to cigarettes($9.25 a pack in Manhattan!) or alcohol, or the insane voodoo woman who cursed K on the subway. Unfortunately I can't seem to get my camera to cooperate with the computer so I have yet to upload the pictures.
Basically I don't have it in me to tell the full story right now, but I had a great time and I can hardly wait to go back. Couldn't live there, though. Not at this point in my life.
I am glad to be home.

Friday, January 23, 2009

I had every intention of posting last night, but when I got home it was already one in the morning and I had to be back here at nine.
This is going to be a long day, stretching into a longer night of packing and house cleaning, and then I'm out, and probably not online for a few days.
Later, y'all.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

I went to Shayne and Todd's for an Obama party. Ate a whole lot of Jenn's fabulous Cowboy Caviar, as well as some lovely roasted potatoes, cheese and crackers (don't know what kind of cheese, but it was hard and white and very tasty- kind of Manchego-ish), a salad, some kind of dessert cup pastry thingie with a custardy filling that Kellie made (I had about fifteen of them probably), and a Rogue Yellow Snow IPA. Very tasty. Somehow I still managed to drag myself downtown for the rock show.
Dr. Ass was not in attendance due to a potentially serious illness , which was a bit of a bummer, but the Dictatortots soldiered on, playing mostly the hits in an acoustic fashion. They did a new song called Three Word Band Name that was hilarious. I hope they post the lyrics on their website. Later when The Dumps took the stage, Andy said they'd like to thank Hope for a Golden Dictatortot for opening the show. This is a funny joke if you are an Athens local with some knowledge of the music scene, but if you aren't then you'd be asleep before I could explain it. I laughed out loud and nearly shot beer through my nose.
Hayride was in full force. Loud and fun and wanky when appropriate. They did some great covers, too. Wish I had the energy to go back and see them tonight with Jackpot City.
I stayed for a few Dumps songs, but I did have to be at work early this morning, so I didn't see the whole show. I did get to talk to several people I haven't seen in awhile (again), so that was fun.
Did I mention that I'm really excited about the new president?
I did smoke about two thousand cigarettes last night in an effort not to drink too much, so I woke up this morning wishing I were dead.
I went to work moaning and grumbling (and late), and when I got there Clay had an egg and cheese biscuit waiting for me. I could have kissed him. It was soaked - and I mean soaked through with grease, and I scarfed it down and felt instantly better.
The day was long and difficult. I lifted a lot of heavy crap. I talked to very few people. I rather enjoyed it. It was bloody cold, but I was layered, and I felt a real sense of accomplishment when it was over.
the wine tasting was rather a bust, because a bunch of people canceled (probably due to the cold), but the few people that did show up wound up being great. It was fun and somewhat informative. I got home earlyish and just got off the phone with the b.h. Just found out that some of our friends are pregnant (in the good way), which is exciting, and also found out the lineup for the next Woody Guthrie record (like the Billy Bragg and Wilco ones, but without Jeff Fucking Tw33dy, whom I have had enough of at this point). It's all very exciting.
I'm going to have to use up the rest of my energy to go wrestle with the dogs if I intend to get any sleep, so I guess I'd best be going.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Whew!

There's just something really comforting about having a President that is smarter than me. It's been a long time.
We watched the Inauguration at D & S's house, and then the guys piled into the van and headed out on tour. Today they'll drive ten hours and sleep at a hotel somewhere in Virginia, and tomorrow they'll drive several more hours and then play a show. I won't be seeing the b.h. again until Sunday night (Booooooo) in New York City (yaaaaaay).

Luckily I have lots to keep me busy. I am off today, so I will be attending a bash at Shayne and Todd's and then going to the 40 Watt for the Dictatortots, Hayride, and The Dumps. I have to work early tomorrow, then I'll come home and eat and walk the dogs and be off to a French Wine Seminar, which could only be better if I didn't have to drive myself there.

Thursday I'm off during the day, so I will likely try to get lunch with my friend MT, then I work Thursday night and Friday morning.

After that I'm off to New York. I seriously can't wait.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Customer of the Day #2381

At 4:50, a guy came in and asked Adam for Lagunitas Maximus. This is a fantastic beer, and normally we do carry it. We have many varieties of Lagunitas beers, and more IPAs than you can shake a stick at, but this guy was only interested in Maximus. So Adam apologizes to him and says,
"We do have it at the other store."
"I'm not goin' to the other store I live in Monroe!" the man snapped, at an unnecessary volume. I waited approximately ten seconds before shouting from the other side of the store:
"Ten minutes Adam!"
All of the employees laughed out loud. Apparently the man was calmer when he came up front to check out.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Just returned from a dinner party at the home of some friends. We never get to do that anymore, and I was glad for the opportunity. We had a few red wines, as well as a lovely German beer that Sam recommended (I can't remember the name at the moment, but I am sure to buy more so I'll report back). I can't say much about it except that it's nice to act like regular adults once in awhile. Eating at a proper table, without the company of a television but with the company of friends and friends of friends, is a luxury we don't often afford ourselves. If I were a resolution type of girl, I'd resolve to do this more often. Since I'm not, I'll just say I'm working on it.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

I've just given the boys some Bully St1cks (G00gle it if you don't know) because more than anything I need a few minutes of quiet. Last night was awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I didn't even start home until 5am.
I worked my ass off for several hours. I had forgotten how much it hurts to open hundreds of beer cans, and wound up having to put electrical tape on my can-popping finger to reinforce my nail. The customers were mostly nice, except for the guy who was already pissing us off at 9:30 (the doors opened at nine). We was a big, goofy, red-necky guy in a button down shirt, camouflage pants, and checkered vans. Strange. Loud. We all tried nicely to get him to back off and slow down a bit. He was in our faces, as well as the faces of any and all customers who happened up to the bar when he was near (which was often, because he was a thirsty boy). I finally decided to cut him off because I didn't want him running all the other people off and sending them to the other bar. So when he came up and ordered, five shots of Jagerm3ister, I smiled sweetly and shook my head.

"What?"
"Nope. Can't do it. Sorry."
"You want one?"
"No."
"Okay, make it six then."
"Not gonna happen."
"Seven?"
I shook my head. He leaned forward and looked at me blearily, clearly unable to do the math.
"Why?"
"Look, you're putting me in a difficult position here. If I give you these shots, you're going to pound them all, pass out or get thrown out, and miss the show. And then you're going to be really pissed off."
"We got tickets to tomorrow night."
"Not gonna happen. Seriously."

I didn't see him for the rest of the night. I suspect he went over to the other bar and pissed them off and got thrown out. What a douche.
The show was glorious, the money was great, and I got to catch up with the Centro-matic guys later. I wonder how often we will see them once we move. Anyway, good times were had by all, I was far too chatty for my own good, and I wound up leaving the club at five am, having smoked far too many cigarettes and knowing full well that i would be paying for it the next day.

Friday, January 16, 2009

I still can't get warm, and since the b.h. is on the road tonight I don't suspect it will get any better. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work to get some firewood, but they were out. Which means I will have to leave early for other work in order to stop at other grocery store. Keep your fingers crossed for me, kids, because I really don't want to go traipsing around in the woods behind the house looking for wood when I get home at 4am.
In other news, South San Gabriel was amazing. Also, I got to talk to several people who I rarely get to see, so that was fun.
Crap. I guess I'd better go get ready for work.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

"Feels Like 18"

That's what our local weather says on The W3ather Ch@nnel dot com. Fucking cold is what it is. Were it not for the musical stylings of South San Gabriel, I wouldn't even consider leaving the house.
Today was long and sucky. I knew it was going to be, so when i woke up this morning I stayed in bed for a long time thinking "but Mom, I don't wanna go to school today! to no avail. There was a huge delivery coming in first thing. More than two hundred cases of wine, and just two of us to deal with it. The first and largest delivery was already there when I arrived. I jumped right in and helped Lynn for several minutes before she was pulled away for something completely stupid that should not have come up today. I kept moving along, she returned, and we finished up that lot with little trouble. Next we had to move an entire display because it was crooked. We had to take all of the bottles off the top (at least a hundred, but probably more), pull apart the whole display, shuffle some of the boxes to one side a few inches, re-build the display, and then put the bottles back on top. All the while I was thinking that I must have made a serious error somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly where. I do have a degree and everything, so why all this heavy lifting? Oh yeah- useless degree. Right, then. I'll just keep doing what I'm told.
I convinced Lynn that we didn't need to actually move both of the remaining displays, but that we could manage by simply rearranging them. This kept me from having to move an additional hundred cases. Instead we moved maybe thirty. In the process of this move, a 1.5 litre bottle became dislodged from the display and fell directly onto my knee, striking whatever the knee equivalent of my funny bone is. That rendered me incapacitated for several minutes, so I hobbled back behind the cash register and put on an ice pack and rang people out while Lynn finished up. By the time the next delivery hit, we were well prepared and it went into the freshly moved display without any hassle. Once we finished that, we got to work on the regularly scheduled delivery, which we had almost finished when Lynn had to leave for a class. A bit later i decided that I was going to just move these three last boxes and then get on my way. The first of those three ended up crashing to the ground, spilling wine and broken glass everywhere. I cleaned that up, and as I pulled apart the dropped case I saw that I had only broken two bottles. A miracle. I then jammed a tiny shard of glass into my finger while picking up the unbroken bottles. Fabulous. So I stayed half an hour late for no reason except that I am sometimes clumsy and stupid and i don't know when to quit.
Now I'm home and trying to gear up to get out in this crap weather to go see a not at all crap show. Wish me luck.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Brrrr.

The weather has turned cold again, and now suddenly I've remembered that I need to order firewood. Every year it gets to this time and I fool myself that because it is sixty degrees on my birthday we are out of the woods - Spring is in the air and all that. Not so. Never the case. And now it's fucking cold, and I haven't put up the heavy curtains or put the plastic insulation on the windows. And now I have an hour to kill before work and I'm freezing.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Genius.

Oh holy crap this is brilliant. It came from this blog, which I found through Sullivan. I think I want one.

Loafing; Then Not.

Having a day off without some kind of plan is dangerous. I've been reading this 331/3 book about Murmur, which is great, but I'm afraid if I lie down to read I will fall asleep again.
The house is quite chilly.

Later: Okay, now I've cleaned the kitchen and the office, vacuumed, gone to the store for vacuum bags, done some laundry, and taken out two large bags of trash. i also donated two boxes of random shite to Goodw1ll. So I'm rewarding myself with a Terrapin Dos Cocoas. It's their new side project and I have yet to taste it. I'll be sure and tell you how it goes.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Which Circle Is This?

So I worked on the wine inventory for thirteen hours yesterday, which is why I didn't check in. The bad news is that we didn't finish it. The good news is that I was well fed. I picked up egg and cheese bagels from Dunk1n D0nuts on the way in, since the Bread Basket doesn't do Sunday breakfast. Sam bought us brunch from F1ve and T3n. I split a 5 and Tenedict and French toast with one of my co-workers. It was really good, and I had a difficult time getting back to the task at hand.
Day turned to night and punchy turned to stabby, and eventually I hit a wall and decided to go home. I missed a dinner party that the b.h. and I were going to attend. That sucked. Dinner was fried cheese sticks and beer. So inventory still isn't done and my cholesterol is probably through the roof. Great.
The rest is too boring to discuss, but suffice to say that as much as I might like some of my co-workers, being in close quarters with anyone (aside from the b.h.) for hours on end is not pleasant.
Whew.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Adventuring.

The dogs and I started out on our usual walk, up the driveway past the pond and to the left. But today, instead of doing a quick round in the grass and then heading back to the right and up the street, the boys decided to keep going leftward and I decided to let them. We ended up going round the corner and then left into the woods back of the house. Kilgore marched boldly on, while Wyatt lagged. This meant both of them at the full length of their retractable leashes and me stretched between, urging Wyatt to hurry and politely asking KG to slow up, and often backtracking to untangle one of them when they'd gone the wrong way around a tree or through some brambles.
The result was that we went a very short distance and had quite an adventure. There were some small and very deep holes in the ground that I wondered about from a distance. They were maybe ten inches in diameter, and from a few feet away I couldn't see the bottom. After wondering briefly what might have made them, I realized that this was perhaps not a question I wanted answered and moved on quickly.
There was a lot of random crap abandoned out there, too. Hot water heaters (multiple, which is bizarre), oil drums, and a huge pile of beer bottles and cans... it's pretty fucked up out there, really. In any case, the boys had a good time and I didn't have to walk all that far.
After our walk I went off to work, which seemed longer than it should have, and now I'm home and tired and I have to be up early to do inventory tomorrow. Pleh.

Free Time. Huh. Who knew?

I worked a regular nine to five today, then picked up the b.h., came home to let dogs out, went to dinner with the b.h. Randomly ran into friends at the restaurant who happened to be sitting next to the only two open seats at the bar. I wasn't even surprised, really, because that's just how Athens is. We hadn't seen them in ages and there was a lot of talk about trying to get together, and plans never made, and then suddenly there we all were. I don't even remember the name of it, but we ate at the new Mexican place across from The Gr1t. I loved their salsas, and the lemon cream sauce on my enchilada was fantastic. I also really dug the jalapeno coleslaw. Consequently, I ate far too much. As we walked the block or so back to the car, i wondered how on earth I was going to drink beer with Shayne, which was my plan for the evening. But by the time I dropped b.h. off at practice and got over to Littl3 K1ngs, I felt just fine.
Her other friend was just leaving, so while they said their good-byes I ordered up and Oaked Arrogant Bastard. It was just dandy. Not terribly different from the regular bastard, but enough to make it interesting. Shayne was hilarious, as usual. Just what the doctor ordered. A couple beers, a lot of shit talk, catching up on the usual b.s. Possibly going to a yard sale in the morning, if I can handle staying awake after dropping the b.h. off at work. I kind of doubt it. I do have to be up early, so I am signing off, but not without my Quote for the Day, courtesy of the b.h.:

"She's not like a hot lesbian. She's more like the lesbian equivalent of a bear."

Awesome.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Looking Forward, But Still Enjoying the Present.

I ran an errand to help out a friend of mine today. For this I was paid one hundred and fifty dollars, which is most of the cost of the plane ticket I will be buying for New York. I am finally going to visit K. Two weeks from tomorrow, in fact, and I am pretty blasted excited about it. I can't stay long, and I haven't even begun to think of what I might like to do- aside form the obvious eating like a pig and drinking some good beer, that is. I've been to Central Park and the Empire State Building, but never to the Statue of Liberty. I'm not above touristy stuff, but I can't imagine standing in line at the statue in January being a pleasant experience, so maybe I'll try to knock a museum off the list instead. I saw something in a book today about a Museum of Moving Pictures in Brooklyn, so that's convenient. I will certainly be visiting the Brooklyn Brewery. That alone may cause my baggage to double on the way home.
Mostly I just can't wait to see K again and talk shit and drink and smoke too much. I'll have to remember to get the name of Shayne's favorite shitty dive bar, and I'm hoping to hook up with an old friend who I haven't seen in at least fifteen years. It's all very exciting. The b.h. will be on tour, so although I will be seeing him on this trip (at both The Mercury Lounge and whatever place they're playing in Brooklyn), I am actually going to be flying solo. Should be interesting. I haven't done it in seven years.
Work was pretty hilarious tonight. We were all pretty busy with pre-inventory nonsense and feeling a bit punchy. At one point a guy I know came in and I was helping him pick out a beer. I asked if he had tried Arrogant Bastard. He had. Double Bastard? No. Me neither. We settled on a Lagunitas Hop Stoopid, because he is as big a hops fan as I am. I walked with him up to the counter and we chatted while Allen rang him out.
"Did you say you've had the Double Bastard?" Alan asked me.
"No, have you?"
"Yeah. Wow."
"Is it good?"
"It needs like another year in the bottle."
"What do you mean? What does it taste like?"
"Like a pissed off panther in your mouth."
"Well, not having blown any angry panthers, I'm not sure what you mean, but I'll take it under advisement."
"Not any angry ones, but the nice ones..." Reed chimed in.
"Yeah, the nice ones I blow all the time."
We all laughed. Reed said goodbye and I turned around to walk back into the wine section. That's when I realized there were other customers in line.

After we closed, the guys broke out a couple bottles of new beer for all of us to taste. The first was a blonde ale, which I immediately thought smelled of lemons. It tasted worse than it smelled. I gave my glass right over to the Hobbit (this is my name for our manager who is small and fuzzy and drunk - not drunk at work, mind you, but he likes his beer). The boys continued to taste, adding descriptors like Lemon Pledge, Pine Sol, bananas, and cat piss.
"Okay, really, we need to figure out how to describe this to people so they'll actually want to buy it. Say something positive."
This was Allen, ever the optimist.
"It doesn't taste like slavery," said Stan.
We all busted up. This went on for several minutes, with none of us able to say anything good that actually meant anything. In the end I decided to take my leave. They cracked open an Amber before walking me out to my car. I wouldn't be surprised if they were still there.
Sometimes I really enjoy my job.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Another terribly Exciting Day.

Today I got a birthday cake from a friend. It was devil's food, three layers, with Kahlua frosting and chocolate chips. Fucking fantastic. So that was breakfast. I was smart enough to pass it around or I would surely have eaten the whole thing by lunch.
It was a long and boring day. I don't even have a good idiot story. It was windy as fuck, and a bunch of empty boxes blew all over the parking lot and I had to chase them down, but that was seriously as exciting as it got. Now I'm at home on the couch trying to decide which beer I'll have. I really want a Bell's, but it's not cold yet. Hmmmm...
The b.h. was kind enough to leave a loaf of bread on top of the fridge last night, so our resident rodent didn't have to wake us in order to get a meal. I'll try to remember to post a picture of the bread tunnel at some point. It's comforting, at least, in it's smallness.
Oh, now I hear geese. Between them and the daffodils that are sprouting up in front of the house, I can't figure out how it is possibly January right now.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Ahhhh.

I slept way in today. The b.h. brought me coffee, juice, and homemade strawberry scones in bed, along with a copy of Tropic Thunder (which only reaffirmed my love for Robert Downey, Jr. and which I will likely watch as soon as I am finished with this post), and the new book The Clash, which is hot pink and coffee table sized. It was put together by the surviving members of the band, so there are all sorts of neat pictures and copies of old show fliers and the like. I love it. Now, if only somebody *cough* could keep the blasted coffee table cleared off, maybe it would have a place...
So needless to say I stayed in bed forever, and then when I got up I puttered around a bit and then went out for coffee with Jamie, who I haven't seen in what seems like forever. She gave me a really beautiful, soft, knitted (by her) washcloth and some hand made soap. We sat around and caught up and petted her dog Silver, and while she was inside getting her coffee I was treated to what I believe was an attempted conversion by an obviously misguided Christian man, who was speaking to what I gather from the conversation to be a gay man who wants to be "reformed." The whole thing was quite odd, the conversation quite frank and very audible, even from across the patio at the coffee shop, and I kept looking around for the hidden camera that never appeared.
It was about 62 degrees outside today, and it was all I could do not to call up a bunch of people and go get a drink somewhere and sit outside. Since I do have to be up in the morning I thought the better of it and instead came home. I'm still firmly planted on the couch, contemplating a round of Playing Gods, which is my favorite new board game. Anyway, many thanks for the birthday wishes, everybody. XO.

Older, yes. Wiser? Jury's Still Out.

I was supposed to go to work at noon today, but I got a panicked call at ten thirty from my co-worker Lynn, who had just gotten a panicked call from our sales rep saying that the 225 cases of wine that were supposed to come on Thursday were actually arriving today at eleven. I gulped down the rest of my coffee and hurried off, arriving just after Lynn and obviously some time after the delivery driver, who was already stacking wine everywhere and every which way. The thing is, given enough lead time we usually tear down an old display, draw up a plan for the setup of the new one, and are usually able to just pop everything into place as it arrives. It is a lot of lifting and hard work, but pretty much par for the course and no big deal. Not so today. Lynn had the day off and was at home, sick in bed, when she got the call. Lucky for me all I had done was forgotten to put on deodorant. (More lucky was the fact that I had it in my car).
Anyway, after a tow and a half hour clusterfuck, we managed to get everything in place. Our boss made a phone call to the sales rep, who also happens to be a friend of the L.L.S. family, and gave him some shit, after which the slaes rep brought us a pizza from DePalm@s. White sauce, broccoli, spinach, and red onions. Fucking fantastic.
Tonight there was a cask of Highland Black M0cha Stout at Aroma's, which I managed to talk the b.h. into attending despite the fact that he doesn't drink. We had a cheese plate and I had a couple beers (I skipped the cask beer after tasting it out of somebody else's glass- good enough, but not exactly my cup of tea). It was actually very low-key and pleasant. We came home early and played a game of Playing Gids, a new board game that my sister and her husband bought me for my birthday. We're still learning, but it is a lot of fun and a great way to mark the passing of another year. Now I'm exhausted and really happy that I don't have to work tomorrow. Yay loafing! Happy Birthday to me.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Long Weekend.

I had every intention of going to the Beef Silence show last night at the Caledonia. Not that I have any idea what Beef Silence sounds like, but anything Nick Bielli is involved in is generally entertaining, so I was all about it. Even the b.h. seemed inclined to socialize. Things were looking up as we drove home from work. I was famished when I got home, so I re-heated a bowl of veggie chili, poured on a generous helping of this sour cream jalapeno sauce that the b.h. had made for our dinner the previous night, and shoveled it all into my gullet as quickly as possible. After the initial stabbiness had subsided, I was sitting on the couch reading when the b.h. asked me if I wanted a black-eyed pea cake. That was what he had made the night before, along with the aforementioned cream sauce, caramelized onions, corn bread, green beans with orange rind and candies pecans, and greens with kalamata olives and garlic. I said yes to all of the above, and was soon finished with dinner, part two. At that point I decided to go upstairs and lie down a bit, and at that point, my night was pretty well over.
I napped for two hours, and when came downstairs again I crawled onto the couch under a blanket. Still convinced that I would make it to the rock show, I turned on the coffee maker to re-heat the morning's leftovers. After I drank it, I opened the front door and realized that the fog was so thick i could barely make out the car in the driveway. Oh well, so much for that. I had a few minutes hemming and hawing after, but it was only halfhearted. We watched an episode of Torchwood (thanks for that recommendation, Jamie, I believe I'm hooked) and went to bed. I of course couldn't sleep due to the nap and coffee, but I did have a Josephine Tey book to keep me distracted. When I was finally drifting off, I heard a crash downstairs. Fucking rodents again. Dammit.
Today I finished reading Julie and Julia, about which I am still unsure how I feel. But at least it's not lying on the coffee table anymore, half finished, staring me in the face and quietly mocking me.
Now I'm on to The Cheese Lover's Companion(because why not really?), and I will likely crack open my new copy of Redemption Song: The Ballad of Joe Strummer very soon.
My work schedule is going to be a bit different this week, so I'm hoping to utilize my new found free time reading and writing. No New Year's Resolution or anything, just a vague hope that I will get back to some sense of normalcy. We'll see how that goes. My life has a tendency to throw curves, and I have a tendency to swing wildly at them.
I just finished some wheat pasta with sundried tomato, bread crumbs, and green olives. I am waiting patiently for five o'clock so I can break out a beer. Or a glass of wine. Not much longer now, so I'd best go decide.

Saturday, January 03, 2009

Customer of the Day #4367.

The day started out innocently enough. I got up and left the house before I was truly awake, dropped the b.h. at work and proceeded to work myself. I finished my coffee just before I arrived and had my breakfast (yogurt and granola) when I got there. I still wasn't awake. By eleven o'clock we had only had about five or six customers. It was probably sixty degrees outside, but inside the store couldn't have been over fifty. I could not get warm. I paced around and looked for things to do. I skipped through radio stations on the Sirius XM thingie, trying to find something upbeat and not Billy Joel. There was a lot of Billy Joel. My co-worker Clay was enjoying it. He is not shy about singing out loud, which I find unusual for a country boy his age, but it is still new enough that I find it amusing. I put up some wine. I rearranged some stuff on shelves. I went next door for coffee. It warmed me up a little. Still the day dragged on relentlessly.
Natasha arrived at around twelve. I had been there for almost three hours, but it seemed like forever. She went to get lunch, which she was nice enough to split with me. Grilled fresh mozzarella and tomato with basil and pesto on pannini. Clay went to the hardware store, and when he came back he started replacing rood shingles. The smell of tar permeated the store. The few customers we had all remarked on it.
"It smells like gas," said one woman.
"Yes, he is tarring roof," said Natasha, in her heavily accented English.
"It smells like gas."
Natasha looked at me and rolled her eyes.
Later, we were outside. Natasha smoked while I stood and watched, trying to clear my head for a few minutes with fresh air. A man in a truck pulled up. He got out and went into the store, so I followed.
"Sorry about that smell," I said. "We're repairing the roof. The smell of the tar is killing me. I guess we should leave that door open."
"You're probably smelling gas. I have it all over me."
It did not occur to me to ask why he was covered in gas.
"Actually, now that you mention it, I do smell gas. It's a step up form the tar, though, so it isn't bothering me."
Later Clay came back in, his hands thick with mucky black tar. He was carrying an empty half pint bottle. Everclear.
"Is that your shift drink?" asked Natasha.
"Naw, man, I had to use it to get the rest of the tar off. Shit, I don't need a drink. I'm higher than a kite."
She looked at him quizzically for a moment, and then smirked and nodded in understanding. "If the boss come back, he's goeen to lock himself in back there."

A short while later, an older woman in large puffy white gym shoes came in. She poked her head around the corner, smiled briefly at us, and then turned her back and went toward the wine section. She was rummaging around in Rieslings before Natasha could get around the counter to help her. In fact, by the time Natasha had got to her, she had already pulled a very pricey bottle from an upper shelf (the shelf right above the sign that reads "Please ask for assistance with wines on upper shelves").
"Do you have another one like this?"
Natasha had taken the bottle from her and was inspecting the label when two more bottles came crashing down - on her head. I heard the crash, and before I could register what had even happened I saw Natasha, bent at the waist with both hands on her head, stumbling around. Clay got there first.
"It wasn't me! I didn't do it!" shouted the woman, in the manner of one who it had been and who had, in fact, done it.
I ignored her and instructed Clay to clean up the glass. Other customers had arrived, and while I was ringing them out I was ordering Natasha to sit down and Clay to get her some ice. While I was ringing up the last waiting customer, the woman who caused the whole thing poked her head around the corner again.
"I wasn't going to buy anything today anyway. I'll just come back."
I glared at her and didn't respond. She practically ran out. Stupid cow. Once I had finished with the other customers, I went over to inspect Natasha's foot, which had been hit just after her head. It probably kept the second bottle from breaking. It was swollen. So was her head.
The last hour was spent arguing with Natasha about whether or not she should drive (obviously not), whether she would go to the ER (not a chance), and what might happen if you drink alcohol with a concussion. In the end her stubbornness won out, and now all I can do is call her every once in awhile to make sure she isn't passed out. So far so good. Man, I'm glad this day is almost over.

Friday, January 02, 2009

Happy New Year, Indeed.

I worked a full and insanely busy day at the Local Liquor Store, picked up the b.h., brought him home, and rested for about an hour and a half before heading out to bartend. The night was fairly easy, the music more fun and much more tolerable than I expected (sometimes cover songs are truly a blessing), and overall I had a good time. At the end of the night, I waited on my second favorite local bass player. He was wearing a spectacularly gaudy jean jacket, adorned on the back with two skulls in American Indian headdresses. They had rhinestones for eyes. The feathers were individually embroidered. It was fantastic. I was jealous. And of course, without a camera for the first time in almost forever.
Anyway, he and his lady friend were very nice and chatted with the other bartender and me, and we all drank a howdy to ought nine and our incoming President. Though I missed the b.h. and my boys, I cannot remember feeling better for the start of a new year in a very long time.
Today's Customer Of The Day was an old lady who sat in her car in the parking lot and layed on the horn for a full minute until my co-worker Rob finally noticed. He looked out the window, rolled his eyes and sighed, and asked me to please go take the woman's order.

"I'm sorry- WHAT?"
"I know, I know - Just go out and see what she wants."

I did. She opened her door just enough to let the words escape.
"I want five little bottles of vodka."
"What kind of Vodka?"
"Boston?"

I went back in. I got a half pint and an airplane bottle of Mr. B0ston vodka and went back out to the car. Just to be clear, this woman had no handicapped sticker, was in no visible way impaired, and was smoking a fucking cigarette while she waited for me to bring her fucking liquor to her. She was, in short, not that old. Were she elderly, or handicapped, or even - gods forbid - polite, I would not have been so put out.

She pointed at the smaller bottle and handed me twenty dollars. I went back in, Rob rang it up, and I returned to the parking lot and handed her the bag. She took it without looking at me, peered into the bag, and muttered a thanks before closing the car door- again, without looking at me. (Is this a Baptist thing? Anyone?)

When i went back inside, I asked Rob how the fuck all that had started.

"I don't know. Sam set a precedent."

Sam is the owner, so it's not like I'm going to argue. But really.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Savannah Pics.

It's hard to explain just how huge the ships were that constantly passed our hotel room window, but imagine that we're on the third floor and I'm taking this shot straight out the window. The thing is still taller than us. Awesome.



The funny thing about this sign is that I almost face planted because I was distracted by it as I was walking into the bathroom at Bonneventure. And I was so close to being able to use the word "ironic" correctly in a sentence. Ah well.



This is one of those scenes that doesn't look real to me. Had i not actually been there and taken the picture myself, I would have thought it was fake. That Spanish moss is the itchiest, most beautiful thing...



The statuary is really beautiful there, too. I took an embarrassing number of photos, but i won't subject you to all of them.






Breakfast at Clary's was definitely a highlight of our trip. The first shot is a description of the Elvis on the menu, the second shot is of the actual dish, before it was fallen upon by a pack of hungry tourists.






Hilarious, but sadly necessary.



The musket demo. I love that I actually captured the smoke in this shot. Lucky thing, too, because it was the last shot she fired, and had I missed I would have had to hang around for another hour and a half to try again. My next camera is going to be a digital SLR.




These two are of the Sentient Bean, the progressive/lesbian/vegan coffee shop (not really, but it was fun to say) - one outside and one from inside. We really loved this place.






These statues are outside of the Telfair Museum, and therefore were photographed lawfully.






This was the one I took before I knew I wasn't supposed to.



This one I took anyway. I just had to. The painting is so huge as to be indescribable. I had to get the b.h. in there for perspective. You can see a better picture of the painting here if you care to.



These last two are both taken out our hotel window. There's something extra relaxing about looking out at water. I hope we get to go back.