| I started a video project as a way to keep up with family and friends either back in Michigan who I haven't seen in years, or those who I just rarely see anymore. You'll see lots of me geeking out about stuff, crazy antics with Greg and Cara and general nerdiness on my part. Only 7 videos up so far (I think), but if you're interested.........
http://youtube.com/SecondBaseGrace
Keep checking back, I've got some Olympics themed stuff coming soon. For you, Amber! | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment   |
| I've been re-watching my favorite vlog lately, and thought I'd share this with you guys (incidentally, it's by the same brothers who did the video in my last post, almost a year ago):
How Nerdfighters Drop Insults...... Shakespeare style.
A couple of notes:
1.) The "in your pants" thing comes from the brothers' theory that all books sound awesome with "-in your pants" added to the end of their title.
2.) You guys should definitely check them out. I've been watching them for a long time. John's a writer, Hank's an environmental journalist/blogger/other things that involve writing. They started doing a video blog to each other in Jan., 2007 as a way to keep in touch, and they developed this huge following when Hank's song about Harry Potter got featured. Start at the beginning and work to the present. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Found this, thought it was hilarious. Don't worry, Jorph, there are no spoilers - it's just some guy singing about how excited he is.
| | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| ... Four more days.
Cory and I will be happily barricaded in my apartment, doors locked, cells and comps off, all the food we need stocked in the fridge. Breaks will only be taken for the occasional cigarette -for him- and need to change clothes -for me, as the odds of wetting myself in excitement will be staggeringly high.
How will you spend your weekend? | | comments: 8 comments or Leave a comment |
| This link is for Nate, Spence, and Eric. Because for some reason they found the situation way funnier than anyone else. Wait till the end, guys, wait till the end.
Six Flags | | comments: Leave a comment |
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I don't know much about the man, but this is how I'll always remember him. Look at those moves. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | I liked it. It was good. | | Time: | 11:16 pm |
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| I really enjoyed the ceremony for the Excellence in Teaching Awards today. The whole thing gave me a really good feeling inside, especially Rick's speech , which was by far the best. I'm happy that he had so many supporters there; we vastly outnumbered any of the other students - one of my former profs came up to me and amusedly asked, "So, what are you guys, like, the theatre mafia?" Yes, yes we are.
Way to go, Rick. You really deserved this. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | Cat Scratch Fever | | Time: | 12:26 pm |
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| It's not just a Ted Nugent song - I actually have Cat Scrath Fever. Moira got into a fight with another cat at the window and somehow became tangled in the blinds cord, went a little crazy, and in my attenpt to free her she bit me. Ouch. Thinking nothing of it, I asked Amber for a band-aid, and went out for the night, only to find out a couple of hours later that my finger was going numb and had swelled to twice its size. Upon the consultation of WebMD, I discovered that CSF is a real disease, the symptoms of which include swelling (check), fever, loss of appetite, vomitting, and paralysis in the infected area. Oh, my. Went to work the next day, trying to make the best of it, despite the fact that my whole hand was going numb and becoming immovable. This may not have been the best idea I've ever had, as several of my tables pointed to my bandaged hand and asked what was wrong with me; there's nothing like finding out your waiter has an infectious disease (not contagious though it may be) just before she serves you spaghetti. In one instance a woman repplied that she knew my pain - she had CSF once and was in the hospital for 3 days and almost lost her eye. Excuse me for being mildly freaked out.
Doctor's appointment yesterday in which I was given a Tetanus shot, a shot in my hand to stop the swelling, and a perscription for something that has Pennicillan in it. My entire family is allergic to Penn, so it is with much trepidation that I swallow these horse pills twice a day. The doctor knows this and said to me, quite cheerfully, "well, if you start developing a painful rash, or delirium, just come on in. I'm on call all weekend!"
At least the swelling has started to go down.... And this was much more difficult to type than I originally estimated. | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | Naked Drinking Coffee | | Time: | 06:42 pm |
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| What is is about coffee houses that make them more relaxing than your own livingroom?
It's my day off - my only one all Spring Break. What I should be doing: taking my car in for a much needed visit to the service center. However, I chose to forgo this in favor of a few quality hours of loafing about in my underwear before heading to the local indie coffee shop to catch up on my reading (i.e. people watching).
I walk in and order my drink of choice (a huge ass latté) and continue with my current Vonnegut kick, cracking open "The Sirens of Titan." For a while it's just me and a couple of businessmen, who are in hushed conversation, huddling over what looks to be large stack of Very Important Documents. In walks subject #2: tall, a little rotund, intellectual, carrying a biography on John Quincy Adams. He places his things in a secluded corner booth, and walks up to give his order, after which we make eye contact and I go back to my book. He continues to stare. Openly. For a long time. DamnitIshouldn'thavewornthisshirt. My breasts are not that magnificent, sir, kindly return to your table. But he does not - instead he picks up his things and moves to the table closest mine, sitting so that he directly faces me. Oh, bugger, still staring. I put down my book and pick up a copy of the New York Times, opening it as widely as possible, successfully obscuring over half of my body. A couple walks in and I begin to eavesdrop.
She is tragically beautiful - dark, upswept hair, long neck, big doe eyes red from crying, slightly defeated posture. He seems to be in a daze, not looking at her, instead spending quite a lot of time gazing out the window. They don't look at eachother when they speak. Now I realize that I'm the one staring. I can't hear much, but I catch certain phrases like "I don't understand how you could do this to me," "she didn't mean anything, I promise," and "do you really think that I can trust you after this? Do you even still love me?" interspersed with a lot of "fuck"s. Uh oh. This sounds all to familiar. All of a sudden I can't listen anymore.
Putting down the paper I see that the Starer has gone and so I pick up my book. Next person who walks in is a brief aquaintence - we've met twice before, both at parties, both under the influence of staggering amounts of alcohol. Do I say hello? How about, "what's up?! I think you tried to grope me a few days ago!" Perhaps not. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't really feel like talking, so I don't look up. He takes the table formerly occupied by the Starer, sitting with a copy of the paper, facing me; I don't think either of us is actually reading. It's sort of awkward, really. I feel like a big jerk for not saying anything, but he hasn't piped up, either, so I suppose that makes up even. It's about this time that I ask the barrista for a few pieces of paper and start writing.
A few more people trickle in - mostly middle-aged men with a paper or book, occasionally a laptop. I'm surprised to not see more people my age, but it is Spring break in a college town.
The Aquaintence starts writing all over his copy of The Times, and it isn't the crossword. There's something strangely artistic about someone frantically scribbling away all over a newspaper. Part of me wonders if he's writing about me, too.
The clouds are getting heavy, and it's looking like it might rain. I'd better get going - I walked here and the prospect of running home wearing sandals, shorts and a lacey tank top is not one I look forward to. And Cheryl Crow's "Soak Up the Sun" just came on the satellite radion. That's my cue to leave. | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag | | Time: | 01:46 pm |
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| Enough. Enough now. In an overly dramatic and severly twisted (if enlightening) turn of events, things are finally over between myself and JB. Yes, I sould have seen it coming, yes, I deserve better. But that doesn't make it any less difficult. I rehearsed breaking up with him every day for the last 3 weeks (and nearly accomplished it twice) but I couldn't do it. I so wanted it to work. It was a mutual parting - we both knew what needed to happen, he just put it into words, and i'm glad he did because I never would have. I would have stayed to long at the party just because I couldn't bring myself to leave - even if the cake was gone and the music sucked. I didn't want to give up because I don't like losing.
It occurs to me that certain people may be reading this who won't like the things that I'm about to say, to which I reply: I am way beyond the point of caring. I've never censored myself here before and I'm not about to start now because of some dumb man and an even dumber situation. Not today. I might fuck some shit up, but at this point I think I've earned the right. My shit has been fucked with enough already, and I've been completely powerless over it. Now I'm getting some of my own back. I'm airing my dirty laundry and am completely unapologetic about it. I need this. And if he loves me as much as he says he does, he won't hate me. It's the truth anyway, and you can't fault me for that.
Yes, this had much to do with His Ex, as I should have realized it would - all the signs were there, I just ignored them. It was nothing she did, not really. She was just a part of the one thing that put things in motion for our eventual demise. If that hadn't happened...... well, there's no use wondering, is there?
There were lies. Oh, my, were there lies. And not just to me, but about me, and to lots of others as well. And he was unbelievably selfish; normally I'm the selfish one, so this came as a bit of a shock. I've never been cheated on before, and FYI: it sucks like a drunk cheerleader, especially when you don't know about it until the end and are then told it isn't any of your business. That's when I started to realize that it all goes way beyond just he and I, this is about who he is as a person, and his issues that he needs to desl with. I was ready to stick it out and make it work, and for a while so was he. Then it became apparent to both of us (as different times) that this was not something that could be fixed together.
He's still in love with her. Says he's still in love with me. Whatev. He just needs to figure out what the hell he wants. I'm just sad I was dragged down because he couldn't bring himself to stop this whole thing right when he knew he felt this way.
Thing weren't always awful, though. The first half was amazing (and then the thing happened that changed it all) - he adopted on my speech patterns and inflection, he became great friends with The Boys, and I learned that I can, in fact, enjoy cuddling. Hell, we even lit stuffed bears on fire together. In retrospect I realize that this is the shortest relationship that I've ever been in - and that's saying something - but it felt like the longest by far.
Things I have learned from this relationship:
1. Text messenging is the coward's way of communication.
2. Love makes people do both really great and really fucked up things.
3. Anyone who makes you wait around for them that much is not worth waiting for at all.
4. When that much Ex drama is involved, it is time to GO.
5. You shouldn't always think the worst of people, but neither can you always think the best of them. Blind spots BLOW.
6. Just because you have to work at sex, doesn't mean it can't be good.
7. BE CAREFUL.
I can't even bring myself to cry. I'm all out of tears. But despite all this, I still like him very much. I want him to be happy, and learn how to be a better person, get past this, and not do this to anyone else; I want what's best for him. But at the same time he's now so unattractive to me. He was so everything that I wanted, he was my ideal - aside from the pathological lying and the emotional baggage. Maybe I can find that again.
And so I close this chapter. I haven't the slightest what's going to happen in the next, but my rough draft looking promising. It's a beautiful day and I'm going for a walk. | | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | But where to put you..... | | Time: | 01:35 pm | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/suns/scared.gif) nervous |
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| The question is: do I go about this the Slytherin or Gryffindor way? Both have their advantages, the consequences of which may be vastly different.
[update: Gryffindor it is. Oh, Merlin...... Please let this turn out okay.] | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | The gangstas must be feeling a little left out | | Time: | 02:58 pm |
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| Please let the record show that today during lecture, Rick used the word "playa" ( minus the "r", of course) with total conviction, and in reference to the history of comedy.
High point to a somewhat rotten day, thanks Rick. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Early in the wee hours of the morning (around 9:45), BoomBoom Mcbroom and I headed over to the grand opening of Taco Bueno, facing, as the yahoo weather bulletin described, "wintry variations" of wind, ice, and freezing-ass cold. We were quite chilly.
But that could not dampen our excitement, oh, no. Observe Katie's rapture at waiting outside the door:
Finally the good people over at Bueno let us in and we were the very first customers to order our food. Katie was overwhelmed with joy, as she's making the same face in almost every picture. It's her overwhelmed-with-joy face.
Look at that drink tower!!!! Amazing! (Still overwhelmed with joy.) 
And here, Katie and I take our first bites. It was everything we ever dreamed it would be and more. So much more. She devoured her muchacho and taco combo, and I went after my Sour Cream Enchilada combination plate with a mission the likes of which few have ever seen before.
 
Later that evening, we anxiously returned to Bueno with a horde of others to see our little BoBo hard at work, and were greeted with a restuarant full of frenzied patrons; the masses had invaded.
But that didn't keep us down, oh no. The well-trained crew, helped by our BoBo got our orders quickly, and had food to us with such speed that it would put the PM crew at The Bell to shame. See how excited BoBo is to be working? Yay, Bueno!
And so it came to pass that we scarfed down our dinners in the manner of a pride of lions tearing apart an injured antelope on the serengheti. Especially JUB - he's an animal.
And we all went home happy, and pooped like crazy. Cause that stuff'll get to ya.
For more Adventures at Bueno, including the incredible condiment bar, and JUB, Tim, and Sara Jones anxiously awaiting their food, go to my photobucket. | | comments: 8 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Current Music: | "If I Were a Bell" - Guys and Dolls | | Subject: | Well, sir, all I can say is if I were a gate, I'd be swinging... | | Time: | 12:02 am | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/suns/happy.gif) happy |
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| | Deliriously happy, thank you. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| Here's the "Deathly Hallows" meme that most Potterheads seem to be doing. Haven't posted anything Potter-ish in a while, so here it is, under a friendly cut (warning: SPOILERS).
Some of this is mildly related to this post, but for the most part it a bit different.
| | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Every once in a great while a customer comes along who bestowes you with what I like to call the MT - miracle tip. A tip that, while the service provided may have been exceptional, is overdoing it by any means. This tips pretty much rock the proverbial kasbah. So imagine my elation when I went around table 44, after the 12 top had gotten up and left, and discovered that they had left me an additional $70 over grat, bringing the grand total to $110.32. Upon realizing what just happened, I promptly removed myself from the Front of the House and into the kitchen where copious amounts of overjoyed squee-age commenced.
Holy God. And I was already having a really good night as it was.
HOT DAMN!!!!!!! | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| Chad: Without you, we'd all be sitting around Josh's apartment in our underwear, eating raw meat and grunting. You can't leave us guys, Grace, you give us direction.
Josh: Yeah, and BJs.
Me: So, I opened my fridge, and there were 3 huge bottle of Ranch dressing inside, and they definitely weren't there when I left.
Josh: Okay, let's think about this rationally - the ranch fairy probably came and decided you were really good this year, and gave you a little reward.
That last one is probably only funny if you know how much i love Ranch. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| My mouth can get me into trouble sometimes. Josh and Greg, you can both stop laughing now, dirty fuckers. What I mean is, I talk too much, too fast, and too high, facts which are all amplified exponentially when at work. This isn't uncommon; most waiters have a completely different demeanor with their tables - for females, the voice tends to become very chipper, higher and more nasal, while men affect a lower, smoother tone. And I do tend to talk very quickly, especially when I've got a job to do, or as ou guys like to say, when I'm on a mission; I talk with purpose. However, the fact that I all of a sudden sound like Minnie Mouse on helium isn't the only problem. Also equally irksome: for some reason unbeknownst to myself I feel the need to give a running commentary to my tables as I go about serving them. Example:
"Here's you salad, sir. Would you like some fresh ground pepper on that? Yes? Well, I'll just run and go get the pepper mill, and grab a tea pitcher on my way back and refill your drink. I just need to put in the order for your entree and it should be out in a few minutes; it might take a little longer because we have a new cook in the kitchen right now, and we just redid all the floors, so we're all walking really slowly to avoid tripping. That's a bit difficult for me because I'm quite clumsy, which is ironic because I was a ballet dancer for about 10 years. (pause) Is there anything else I can get for you? "
I could have just delivered the salad, brought the tea and pepper and been done with it. But, no. I have to yammer on to nice people who really don't need to know every little detail of my comings and goings while I serve them. I just have this tiny little fear in the back of my head that someday something like this will happen:
"Would anyone like some parmesan on their pasta? Okay, I'll just go get that and be right back. Afterwards I'll try and refill your drinks, and then after that I'll probably pop off to the bathroom for what promises to be a much needed, very long piss. I'll probably splash some water on my face, give my nose a good blow -as snot's been dripping out of it all night- and perhaps even text my boyfriend. I'm not really supposed to carry a phone in my apron, but I have been lately, which might get me into trouble - one of our managers is a right bastard, never know when he's going to explode. Then I'll come back here, see if everything tastes alright, and then go sort some silverware for rolling which is always very greasy, very disgusting, and only gets washed twice before it ends up in your mouth. Enjoy your meal!"
In related news, business is still slow, my nose is still running, and I'm working both New Year's Eve and New Year's day. | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
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