5 posts tagged “capers”

I got ditched. 
I'm doing my damnedest to not get butt hurt over it.

Lesley and I had plans for pho today.  To catch up, discuss apartment issues and actually talk because we haven't really seen each other since she got back from Singapore.
She's too busy moving everything today and organizing shit and doing all that crap that comes with moving.  She requested a postponement until tomorrow.  It's not that I can't do it tomorrow, I could, I just don't want to.  I kind of hold Sundays sacred.  They're my day to do my thing, whether that's lay in bed all day, laundry, stoned blogging... whatever.  So we rescheduled to Wednesday. 

Today would have been best.  It's the day we've had planned for a week.

Get over it, Megan.

Got a text from the Terrorist last night at around 1230a.  He was asking if I wanted to stop by to watch Obama's speech.  Now, if it was anyone other than him, I'd think it was the "Wanna come watch a movie" line and everyone knows that there is no actual movie WATCHING when someone agrees to that.  Well, maybe a the first 5-10 minutes but that's it.  Because this is the Terrorist, I knew he actually meant WATCH the speech.  So, I went over.  Not so much for the speech as to hang out with the T and get some cuddle time in.  The speech was very good.  Gave me goose bumps on many occasions.  Awesome.

God, I'm cranky.
 
Disclaimer:  Bowl smoke-age to commence now.  I need to get out of this cranky ass mood.  Not sure if the reefer will help but it sure as fuck can't hurt.  I really don't know why I'm disclaiming anything... but I figure it's fun.  Hehe.  Yes, I admit it, my name is Megan and I like using useless disclaimers on my blog!  (Hi Megan!)

I'm kind of over the Jamiroquai thing.  Though I might have to rewind it to Love Foolosophy one more time.

I got a text from a friend of mine (Blondie) I used to work with at Capers.  I haven't seen her since I've been back in town though we keep making tentative plans and on or both of us flake out.  Her 27th birthday was on Thursday and she wanted me to stop in and have drinks with her and her 8 gajillion friends.  It was being held at this bar in the Pearl District, which is a pretty area and I tend to enjoy walking around there but I can't handle the posh-ness that all the business's posses.  Which Is why I just walk around and never enter any of them.  I drove by the bar it was at... The District and had to force myself to not turn around and run screaming.  I sucked it up, went in, got an $8 Monopalova and cran and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.* 
I've learned over the years that I don't fit in with the "pretty people" of the world.  I tried for a long time and it just made me feel horrible about myself.  I'm not sure why because I really have nothing in-common with the types that frequent these type of places.  I give a shit about things other than how my blond highlights came out on my blond hair or which of the guys I'm seeing has the highest net worth and that's how I'll pick who I'm going to start getting serious with. 
I feel like it should be stated that I love Blondie.  I've had a shit ton of fun with her, she introduced me to pho and day drinking and strippers.  Okay so she didn't really introduce me to strippers but day drinking & strippers were something we always did together.  She is very much a pretty girl.  Not just because she's beautiful but I guess the term "every-girl" should be used here.  The terrorist has been trying to explain to me what exactly an every-girl is and I think I finally grasped the concept.  Thanks to Blondie.  Granted, I think she's an extreme case of the every-girl but she IS an every-girl. 
The awkward standing got moved outside to awkward sitting.  Blondie and I actually got a few seconds to talk in which she told me about how the guy she's seeing organized the shin dig for her along with taking her out to get her Nails & Hair did, taking her shopping and getting her some ridiculously over priced designer dress for the night with matching shoes.  It was a seriously deep discussion. 
She finished her cigarette and went inside with a group of friends that showed up.  I stayed outside, smoking and trying to find a graceful way to get the fuck out of there.  That's when Ireland started talking to me.  Ireland is this middle age-ish red haired, red faced dude.  I actually think he might have been younger than middle age but I'm pretty sure due to years of excessive drinking he's getting older (and redder) than his years.  He was a friend of Blondie's, we chatted for half a minute then his conversation continued with my tits.  Now, I know I have a great rack but how can anyone think that tit talking is acceptable?!?!   There are very very very few acceptations to this rule.  Guys... Tit talking is not cool.  Don't do it!!!  This was the final straw for me.  I decided I wasn't going to worry about being tactful.  I put half of my $8 drink down, went and gave Blondie a hug and told her I was peacin' out. 

I was on my way to the Terrorists and I decided to stop for a fountain coke.  Somehow I locked myself out of my car (probably because I was half stoned and talking to Nathan on the phone).  I hadn't replaced my key under my plate since the last time I got locked out.  So I was more or less fucked.  Luckily I was 2 blocks from the Terrorists house so I walked up there, got a coat hanger, and figured I'd try to jimmy the lock.  I've tried this a few times and have never been able to get it.  This time, was different.  I GOT IT!!   I was very proud of myself.
When I got back to the Terrorist's house he made me put my key back on my plate.  Now I know that if I get locked out again (haha, if, who the fuck am I kidding... WHEN I get locked out again) I will have two methods to get back in my car.  Very exciting.
But not as exciting as stair sex.
Like that little segue? 
Oh yeah, I got boned on the stairs!  I'm pretty sure at least one of his neighbors had to have seen my ass but that's okay.  It was some good sexin'. 
Complete with bite marks on the back of my hand from an attempt to keep myself quite. 
Classy.

Reefer and blogging about snotty bitches really did make me feel better.
Yay.  Fuck, I should go get ready for work. 
I don't want to go to work. 
I need to find another job.

*I would have pasted myself against a wall but there was no wall space anywhere near the party and though I seriously contemplated it I figured standing half way across the room by myself would probably just make me seem even more socially awkward.

Tonight kicked my ass, hardcore!

I got home at 2am, the shop closes at 11p!!!

My body hurts in ways it hasn't hurt since... since... my first restaurant job. 
I would kill for a massage right now.  I need to be rubbed in a bad way, head to toe, front to back.
I hurt everywhere. 

New Guy is a good guy and a good worker but he's a bit slow to catch on.  Which shouldn't be surprising because he's 37 and still lives with his parents. 
Not to mention that he can't do math to save his life.  Which is bad when you have to count out a till.

I'm closing with him again tomorrow night. 
It will be better though.  The airport is going to be slower tomorrow, I know that he can't add and I'm not letting him near a register during rushes (because he's not god at common sense either*, not because he can't add.)

Tomorrow is my Friday. 
I'm going to go crawl (because I don't think I can walk) into bed, pass the fuck out and attempt to sleep forever.

* When taking an order for a Carmel Shake, he felt the need to ring it up as a mocha shake (which has chocolate and coffee in it) then modify it to carmel only... instead of a Vanilla Shake (which already has no coffee in it) add Carmel Sauce.

I got up at the ass crack of dawn (sort of) and went to the food stamp office. 

What I found out was that I get to get up at the actual ass crack of dawn on Monday to go to my 7.30a appointment. She also informed me that I'm going to be there for a while but not to worry I should be out by 11a. 

Yay.

Since I've been home I haven't really done shit.  Had a long discussion with Lesley regarding divorce and trust and relationship type shit.  Which was interrupted by the DHL guy bring Lesley some really expensive (super duper yummy) chocolates that her mum sent.  We gorged a bit then took a nap. 

That's about it.

Chris and I played some hack in the living room which was cool.  I haven't hacked in forever.  Since right after I got off the ship, when I was in Portland.  I played with Chris and Tob.  That was almost a year ago.  Shit.  That explains why I suck.  (At least that's the excuse I'm going with.)

Oh yeah, I called Coffee People and found out I got the job.  YAY!  Go me!  But she's not sure when I'm going to start.  I'm guessing sometime next week.  I can't believe I'm working at a coffee shop.  Not that I'm bitching, because well, yes I am but only a little bit.  I would have worked anywhere at this point.  The coffee shop thing isn't that bad really, I've always wanted to be a barista (kinda) but in a local neighborhood joint.  Not at the airport.  Granted it is possible to get regulars at the airport (which amazed me when it started to happen at Capers) but it's still not the same.  Oh well, I'm going to go to my job, smile at all the irratated travelers and as soon as something better (or more money) comes along I'm going to peace the fuck out of there. 

Chris is done cleaning the kitchen. (Thanks Chris!)  I should give him his computer back.  

A few days ago I responded to a Question of the Day regarding who in my past to I think about the most.  I mentioned many people but I forgot one very, very important person.  Ovideo Garcia-Sousa. 

I worked with him at Capers Cafe in PDX.  He was the best dishwasher EVER!!  But aside from that, he was a great friend.  I would have done anything for that kid.  We lost touch because of a few reasons, the first being that I left that job.  Then he had to go back to Guatemala.  I haven't heard from him since.  He and a friend of mine kept in contact but I haven't talked to her in along time either.

I miss you Ovideo.  I hope things are going well for you!  I love you! 

That's what my shirt says.  That's what I want to do.  But the problems is is that I CAN"T FUCKING BREATH!!!  It's very frustrating.  I was super duper ungodly sick last night.  Head cold to the max.  Stuffy head, headache, runny nose, sneezing, all that shit and to top it off I just felt like shit.  My Maitre 'D let me go home early and I went and P.O.L.A.F.  then this morning when I woke up I felt much much better.  Still definitely sick, but don't have that death warmed over feeling.

I never loved nobody fully...  always one foot on the ground

I just don't know about this place.  About 24 hours ago I was so ready to buy a plane ticket home and say screw it.  Now... now, it's not so bad.  I had a good night.  It wasn't exactly easy but it went by quickly, that's always nice.  This company kind of pisses me off though but I really wanna get into the bar before I leave.  I need to get some experience, though I am getting some waiting experience which is good and will help me get a gig at a place a bit more upscale than Peanut Butter and Ellie's... though I love Peanut Butter and Ellie's... the tips don't exactly leave me smiling all the way to the bank, ya know?

I have to say though, part of me is hooked on finding a deal like the weekend bar gig at Capers.  As twisted and fucked up as the management was at that company I would take that job in a Nanosecond.  Work there Friday, Saturday and Sunday then at Pb&e's a few days during the week.  But that probably wouldn't be a good idea, I need to move forward and that would be kind of moving backward.  Though not really, but kind of. 

What the fuck am I rambling about, it's not like they're actually wanting to hire me.  That would be cool though.

Some other gig that would let me make $600 or so in about 3 days... aside from selling my body.  That'd be sweet.

I'm almost half way done this contract.  It's gone by fast.  I have no idea what I'm going to do when I'm done with it.  That really freaked me out when I started but I just stopped thinking about it because I had so much else to deal with, now I've got just over 10 weeks and I don't know what I'm going to do.  I know I'm going to Maine, I know I'm going to Oregon, and I think I'm gonna take a trip but aside from that I have no clue what the fuck I'm going to do.  Ugh.  Tres scary. 

Have you ever met someone and thought that they were kind of really cool.  Then you read their my-space or blog and realize that you think they're actually a bit of a schmuck.  I hate that.

Okay I think I'm going to go focus on getting some shit done and then getting my laundry and going to bed.  mmmmm Bed.  That sounds yummy.