Kelsy and I decided that we wouldn't wait for our dad to build us a tree fort. We were middle schoolers and we knew that we needed wood, nails, and a hammer to get the job done. If you haven't figured out by now that I am a hazard at almost everything in my life then you are probably thinking to yourself what an awful idea this was.
Kelsy and I took the tools and scouted out a fort. We found the perfect tree at the edge of our property, so Kelsy took a can of ant killer and sprayed down the tree and the surrounding area so that we wouldn't get bitten. In northern Michigan, our ants are bitters and they do not let go until you pick them off. It can be quite terrifying when they all start biting you.
What I didn't think about was that we would need a ladder to build the latter to the tree fort. I knew that my dad would notice if we took a huge ladder, especially since we were both scrawny and could not carry it. So, I assured Kelsy that I could just put the blocks of wood to use for the ladder right on the tree. She was sort of unsure, but I am pretty persuasive and the older sister. I hammered in the first and lowest block to the tree with success. The second was a bit higher but went in with no problem. I was pretty pleased with my carpentry skills. The third block was pretty much at face level for me after climbing the lowest block. Kelsy was holding my back and I had one arm around the tree and the other was hammering in the nail when I hammered in front of my face, got the hammer prong into my mouth, looped into my new braces and I pulled out my wire all in a split second. I fell backwards onto Kelsy's cushy body and was stunned still with the hammer in my hand. I panicked and touched my teeth to make sure that they were all in my mouth and starting to cry because of the immense pain. Eventually Kelsy wiggled out from underneath my body and checked out the damage. Sure enough, the wire was out and all of the rubber bands on my teeth had flung out in a million different directions. My parents were very angry that they had to take me to the orthodontist stat and we were ground. I thought that to be a little unfair because I did almost lose all of the top teeth in my mouth and then they would have been sorry. That was pretty much the end of the tree fort project and for years all there was on this random tree is 2 1/2 blocks of wood nailed into it.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Dating: The Zach Braff-ish
I have been fortunate in most of my dates that they have been pretty good. I decided to meet up with this guy a few months ago who worked for NHL.com. I rationalized that I loved hockey and he worked for hockey and played on a hockey team for fun. He seemed nice so I had him arrange to meet me for a drink. We met at a dive bar in the East village and I was excited to meet him because his pictures made him look a bit like Zach Braff. I walked into the dive bar my usual 10 minutes late and looked around for him. A man waved at me, apparently because my online photos look like me and his didn't. I was really bummed out. I sit down next to Zach-ish Braff and say hello while ordering a beer. He's really nervous and it was really uncomfortable because I didn't like what I saw. He did once maybe look like Zach Braff if Braff walked into an alleyway one night and got beaten mercilessly and left there to die and patch up his injuries. Yes, if I squinted in the pitch black, I could maybe think he was cute, but at this point in the evening I was too sober.
I had been fighting off a cold and wanted to cancel on this date but guilted myself into seeing him. Now I was mad at myself. The dive bar was pretty divey and was really stuffy, so I was struggling to breathe through my nose.
After getting my drink, I turned to Zach Braff-ish and asked him to tell me what it was like to work for NHL. He told me that he recently became un-employed and just really likes hockey. He also told me that he was doing a "hot yoga" class and was training to become an instructor. Not that you need a job to date me, but we ended up having nothing really in common and it was quite painful to talk to him. He had no goals and told me that he couldn't afford to pay for both of us. I felt so guilty that I ended up paying. He wanted to get another round, but at that point after a long day at work, a painfully bad date with no attraction, and me being strapped for cash I decided to call it a night early. My allergy medication wore off too and I couldn't breathe anymore through my face.
It was a very cold day in January and I insisted on walking myself back to the train as I was going to go hang out with someone else, but Zach Braff-ish told me that he desperately wanted to walk me back. We walked the 3 blocks to the station and Zach complained the entire time about how cold it was, which I found annoying because he was the one who insisted. We got to the station and I was not going to hug or kiss him because he was sweaty from his yoga class and smelled a bit, but he lurched his mouth into my face and stuck his tongue down my throat. Because he was blocking my only method of breathing (as my nose was completely out of order) I couldn't breathe and ended up coughing in his mouth. I was so disgusted. He told me that he would call me to go out again.
After getting home from my disastrous date, I scrubbed my mouth and listerined half the bottle at home my phone beeped. I received the ultra creepy text from Zach saying "I owe you a better kiss next time. Let's meet up tomorrow." I rolled my eyes and got in the shower to wash the bad date off of me. I never saw Zach Braff-ish yoga man again.
I had been fighting off a cold and wanted to cancel on this date but guilted myself into seeing him. Now I was mad at myself. The dive bar was pretty divey and was really stuffy, so I was struggling to breathe through my nose.
After getting my drink, I turned to Zach Braff-ish and asked him to tell me what it was like to work for NHL. He told me that he recently became un-employed and just really likes hockey. He also told me that he was doing a "hot yoga" class and was training to become an instructor. Not that you need a job to date me, but we ended up having nothing really in common and it was quite painful to talk to him. He had no goals and told me that he couldn't afford to pay for both of us. I felt so guilty that I ended up paying. He wanted to get another round, but at that point after a long day at work, a painfully bad date with no attraction, and me being strapped for cash I decided to call it a night early. My allergy medication wore off too and I couldn't breathe anymore through my face.
It was a very cold day in January and I insisted on walking myself back to the train as I was going to go hang out with someone else, but Zach Braff-ish told me that he desperately wanted to walk me back. We walked the 3 blocks to the station and Zach complained the entire time about how cold it was, which I found annoying because he was the one who insisted. We got to the station and I was not going to hug or kiss him because he was sweaty from his yoga class and smelled a bit, but he lurched his mouth into my face and stuck his tongue down my throat. Because he was blocking my only method of breathing (as my nose was completely out of order) I couldn't breathe and ended up coughing in his mouth. I was so disgusted. He told me that he would call me to go out again.
After getting home from my disastrous date, I scrubbed my mouth and listerined half the bottle at home my phone beeped. I received the ultra creepy text from Zach saying "I owe you a better kiss next time. Let's meet up tomorrow." I rolled my eyes and got in the shower to wash the bad date off of me. I never saw Zach Braff-ish yoga man again.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Omelette du Fromage
I loved Dexter's Laboratory and used to watch it all the time with my sister, Kelsy. One of my favorite episodes was the "omelette du fromage" episodes, and subsequently the reason why I took French courses throughout my high school and college life.
When I was just starting college at Grand Valley State University I decided to get a job on campus. I had worked in food business since I was 16, so when a job opened up at the fresh foods dining I was thrilled. Basically the way this dining area worked is that they opened at 7am and students would pay to get in and then there would be made to order stations. I was under the impression when hired, that I would be prepping food and handing it out to students, maybe a little cleaning, and stocking items. GVSU had many chefs that were paid to make the meals.
I showed up to my first day of work very nervous and excited. I had to be there at 6:30am to set up. I had no one to report to and because of how poorly managed it was, no one showed me how to clock in or anything. When I finally figured out where I needed to go, the chef in charge of us 3 students was cranky because he had to do most of the set-up himself. I was assigned to the omelette station, which brought me some relief because I worked in a diner. With 10 minutes before we opened, I was a little nervous at the immense line to get in the place. "Right, so who here has made an omelette before?" barked the annoyed chef.
I looked at him like it was a joke. Surely WE aren't cooking?! Keep in mind that when I say that I worked in food service that means that I did not make food. I just moved to lower Michigan and could barely cook ramen noodles at this point. Omelettes were way out of my comfort zone. The chef quickly demonstrated the process of cracking the eggs, adding the 30+ ingredients that the customers could order, and then taking a spatula around the edges and flipping the omelette in the air to cook the other side. I was horrified. I am a hazard! I cannot master flipping an omelette in the air in 3 minutes before we are bum-rushed by hundreds of students, if ever! What a bad idea! I found out that the chef's duty was not cooking but managing student workers. Why wasn't I put in the fresh fruit station. I looked over at the happy student workers at that station. Not a care in the world as they cut the watermelon into squares. I looked at the pastry station who were as equally happy setting out the pre-made muffins and bread. I got the shaft in this deal for sure. I was so pissed but I didn't have time to be angry because just then the doors opened and the students rushed in like the food would disappear in mid-air. I looked at the student worker next to me who was also making omelettes for the crowd. The crowd of students quickly lined up for our station and the line went outside.
The first student ordered his omelette with about 15 ingredients. I cracked the eggs into the pan and accidentally made him scrambled eggs because I couldn't remember the 10 minutes of omelette training that I had received. He was annoyed with me but walked away with my scrambled egg concoction without too much fuss. The next student ordered equally as many ingredients and this time I remembered to pour the egg in right. I looked over at the other student worker and was a little jealous that he had mastered the omelette making skills faster than I. I was about to flip the omelette in the sky but instead it splattered on the floor. I was embarrassed and quickly made another. This time I flipped it but not enough to get any air-time and it slipped to the edge of the pan and back down. I turned away from the student with my pan and took the spatula and flipped it over with a combo of the spatula and my fingers. "Oh well, a little germs never hurt anyone," I thought. The omelette was partially mutilated but workable. With the line just getting longer and my confidence level waining, I couldn't flip any more omelettes. I would burn the one side and the top I would leave raw, shove their ingredients in and cover the raw parts with cheese so that they couldn't tell. No matter how brown and awful my omelettes looked, the line never chose my co-worker over me. Every omelette I gave to the students, I gave them a sheepish smile that was to mean, "Sorry I am handing you your excuse for missing your class because of salmonella poisoning."
I worked till 11am and was never more glad to leave. The pastry and fruit station kids skipped as they left the building. I left with paranoia that an angry mob of students would be jumping me and beating me for making them wait an hour for an omelette that made them sick. No such mob occurred, thankfully. To this day, I have never made an omelette because of the awful memories.
Destroying the world one omelette du fromage at a time.--Jessica Masters
Monday, June 11, 2012
Growing Old
I may not know if I want to have children or get married, but I do know that I can't wait to grow old. I want to be a spazzy old lady who has no filter and says whatever is on her mind, much like the grandma in Wedding Crashers or The Wedding Singer. I want to wear extravagant costumes and put on every piece of jewelry that I own and be nicknamed Madame Bijoux (Lady Jewelry). I want to throw amazing dinner parties for my friends and lunch with ladies who wear large hats. I want to sit at a bar all day and write poems....much like this old man I met last summer while in Spain.
In Spain last summer, I walked into a bar with one of my male friends and ordered a glass of wine. I was chatting with Mike about what we were going to eat later that evening, after the businesses opened again after siesta when this old, adorable man scuttled over to us and handed me a napkin. He didn't speak a word to me, just handed me the napkin and smiled and then went back to the corner of the bar where he had been hiding. I looked down at the napkin and he had written me a love poem in Spanish. Neither Mike nor I spoke a word of Spanish, but I was deeply flattered. I was bragging to Mike about how I must have been so beautiful to this little old man that I inspired him to write a poem about me. I was his muse! My confidence was through the roof and I made sure to hold on to the napkin.
The Poem reads:
Esta vestida de azul y celeste como el color del cielo y es tan guapa y binda como lo es el firmamento
In Spain last summer, I walked into a bar with one of my male friends and ordered a glass of wine. I was chatting with Mike about what we were going to eat later that evening, after the businesses opened again after siesta when this old, adorable man scuttled over to us and handed me a napkin. He didn't speak a word to me, just handed me the napkin and smiled and then went back to the corner of the bar where he had been hiding. I looked down at the napkin and he had written me a love poem in Spanish. Neither Mike nor I spoke a word of Spanish, but I was deeply flattered. I was bragging to Mike about how I must have been so beautiful to this little old man that I inspired him to write a poem about me. I was his muse! My confidence was through the roof and I made sure to hold on to the napkin.
The Poem reads:
I think that it translates to this: This dress of blue and heavenly as the color of the sky and is so good-looking and binda like the firmament it is
I do not know what binda or firmament mean and it's possible that I can't read his handwriting, but nevertheless I was this man's muse. About 5 minutes later, another couple walks into the bar. Sure enough, the little old man gets up and hands the lady a napkin as well. THE LITTLE PIMP!!! Regardless of these women being accompanied by men he has the audacity to hit on the women. I was a bit heartbroken as I noticed the third time he gave away napkins that I was not inspiring. I often wonder if my poem is unique to me as I was wearing a blue dress that day, but I will never know.
My point of the story is that I want to be that little old man who hits on every girl that walks into the bar. I can't wait for the confidence to walk up to strangers without worrying about being nervous. Growing old is going to be awesome because I am going to make it awesome. You are more than welcome to join me at the bar in 40 years and hit on the hot studs. Bring a large hat and a pen!
I do not know what binda or firmament mean and it's possible that I can't read his handwriting, but nevertheless I was this man's muse. About 5 minutes later, another couple walks into the bar. Sure enough, the little old man gets up and hands the lady a napkin as well. THE LITTLE PIMP!!! Regardless of these women being accompanied by men he has the audacity to hit on the women. I was a bit heartbroken as I noticed the third time he gave away napkins that I was not inspiring. I often wonder if my poem is unique to me as I was wearing a blue dress that day, but I will never know.
My point of the story is that I want to be that little old man who hits on every girl that walks into the bar. I can't wait for the confidence to walk up to strangers without worrying about being nervous. Growing old is going to be awesome because I am going to make it awesome. You are more than welcome to join me at the bar in 40 years and hit on the hot studs. Bring a large hat and a pen!
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
If it works, it works
One thing that I have learned throughout my dating life is that when something works, it works. I think that women put too much time and effort into making things work out in a bad relationship. It's relationship denial and women seem to have it longer than men.
I used to think that I had a six month curse in relationships. The first six months were pretty bliss and then little things would start to bother me about the person. I would then spend the next six or seven months trying to "make things work" or make things horrible enough where that person would break it off. If you are not watching Girls on HBO then you must. The relationship and the feelings that Marnie and Charlie have mirror precisely what I used to do in relationships. Being miserable with the person, pushing them away, and then wanting to fix things with them though you are both equally as miserable. It's toxic.
I hate it when people used to tell me that when it's right with someone, then a light beam shines down on them from the heavens above and little chubby, naked angels with harps play and sing merry songs of love. That was a little extreme but you catch my drift. The truth is this: As many girlfriends and family members as you talk to, as much advice as you gather other social media networks or blogs such as mine, you don't know who is right until you realize who is wrong and why they're wrong. It takes a lot of introspection, it takes a lot of time, it sometimes takes a gut wrenching breakup, and it takes being with some losers before you figure shit out. You have to find out for yourself what you don't need or want before you start looking for those lasting qualities with someone. What works can only be found after you know what doesn't work.
Women want to alter things, tolerate things, change things completely, and inevitably ignore or suppress what they are actually needing to be happy. I was one of those women so I know what I am talking about. I used to hate the way one of my boyfriend's chewed their food. I also couldn't stand the baby talk voice someone else addressed me. These seem little, but as time wears on it can really start getting on your nerves. I would tolerate for a while. Then we would have discussions that always ended badly because I seemed to be nagging and he seemed to piss me off all the time. I hated being "mean mommy." Now that I am in a good relationship and have a very good idea of who I am independently from any man, I no longer have to be "mean mommy." I get to be what I always wanted to be-- the fun, sexy, cute, quirky, smart, and funny girl I always thought I was. I love it. I want to encourage you that if you are not happy with someone over 70% of the time, then there might be someone out there who is a better fit for you. Don't be afraid to be alone. It's only when you are alone that you discover who you really are and re-evaluate who you want to be. You will also discover (most importantly) what you will and will not settle for. DON'T EVER SETTLE! YOU DESERVE BETTER AND YOU KNOW IT. You'll either resent yourself or the one you're with and that never ends well. Good relationships are ones that you can pick apart with a microscope and come up empty-handed. You might be leery of them at first, and that just means that you have learned from your past. There will be a moment with someone who fits where you look at them and know that they know and love you and that it is okay to love them back. You will know what works with the right one and you will want to always try hard to maintain that. You don't try working at it after it's falling apart. You work at it from the very beginning and never let that six month itch happen. Have the honeymoon phase last your entire lives.
I hope that these words have helped. I am not an expert; I am still learning myself, but if I can save you months of agony in a bad relationship then I feel that I have done something right. And please don't worry about being alone, becoming a spinster with a lot of cats because you won't. Well...most of you! And if I ever, EVER get a wedding invitation from you marrying yourself I will go mental! Don't take my words SO seriously ;) http://www.buzzfeed.com/lyapalater/woman-marries-herself
I used to think that I had a six month curse in relationships. The first six months were pretty bliss and then little things would start to bother me about the person. I would then spend the next six or seven months trying to "make things work" or make things horrible enough where that person would break it off. If you are not watching Girls on HBO then you must. The relationship and the feelings that Marnie and Charlie have mirror precisely what I used to do in relationships. Being miserable with the person, pushing them away, and then wanting to fix things with them though you are both equally as miserable. It's toxic.
I hate it when people used to tell me that when it's right with someone, then a light beam shines down on them from the heavens above and little chubby, naked angels with harps play and sing merry songs of love. That was a little extreme but you catch my drift. The truth is this: As many girlfriends and family members as you talk to, as much advice as you gather other social media networks or blogs such as mine, you don't know who is right until you realize who is wrong and why they're wrong. It takes a lot of introspection, it takes a lot of time, it sometimes takes a gut wrenching breakup, and it takes being with some losers before you figure shit out. You have to find out for yourself what you don't need or want before you start looking for those lasting qualities with someone. What works can only be found after you know what doesn't work.
Women want to alter things, tolerate things, change things completely, and inevitably ignore or suppress what they are actually needing to be happy. I was one of those women so I know what I am talking about. I used to hate the way one of my boyfriend's chewed their food. I also couldn't stand the baby talk voice someone else addressed me. These seem little, but as time wears on it can really start getting on your nerves. I would tolerate for a while. Then we would have discussions that always ended badly because I seemed to be nagging and he seemed to piss me off all the time. I hated being "mean mommy." Now that I am in a good relationship and have a very good idea of who I am independently from any man, I no longer have to be "mean mommy." I get to be what I always wanted to be-- the fun, sexy, cute, quirky, smart, and funny girl I always thought I was. I love it. I want to encourage you that if you are not happy with someone over 70% of the time, then there might be someone out there who is a better fit for you. Don't be afraid to be alone. It's only when you are alone that you discover who you really are and re-evaluate who you want to be. You will also discover (most importantly) what you will and will not settle for. DON'T EVER SETTLE! YOU DESERVE BETTER AND YOU KNOW IT. You'll either resent yourself or the one you're with and that never ends well. Good relationships are ones that you can pick apart with a microscope and come up empty-handed. You might be leery of them at first, and that just means that you have learned from your past. There will be a moment with someone who fits where you look at them and know that they know and love you and that it is okay to love them back. You will know what works with the right one and you will want to always try hard to maintain that. You don't try working at it after it's falling apart. You work at it from the very beginning and never let that six month itch happen. Have the honeymoon phase last your entire lives.
I hope that these words have helped. I am not an expert; I am still learning myself, but if I can save you months of agony in a bad relationship then I feel that I have done something right. And please don't worry about being alone, becoming a spinster with a lot of cats because you won't. Well...most of you! And if I ever, EVER get a wedding invitation from you marrying yourself I will go mental! Don't take my words SO seriously ;) http://www.buzzfeed.com/lyapalater/woman-marries-herself
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Zombie Apocalypse
I was 16 and I had just got my first job as a hostess at the Family Inn diner in Wells, Michigan. I loved my job: seating people, making milkshakes, talking to the regulars who sat at the counter and teased me.
Dolores was the typical crotchety old lady you find at most diners. She was about a million years old and very frail and sometimes I would worry that she would die on her shift in front of me. She didn't like me at first because any young person she felt threatened her job. She would sit in the back booth and chain smoke between taking orders and bringing out food. I desperately wanted everyone on the planet to like me at this time in my life, so I bent over backwards for her. I would do her side duties like wrap silverware, clean booths, run her food, and stay late to help her close. Eventually I won her over and we worked very well together. She was very sweet if people bothered to get to know her and she looked after me as a mother would look after her child.
It was a Sunday night. Sunday nights were notorious for being extremely slow because the rush of Sunday morning brunch was over. We typically would have the regulars come in, a few families for the Sunday night "Family Chicken Special," and truckers who were desperate to have a conversation about anything other than the road. I never minded working Sunday nights because after working the weekend morning shifts, it was a quite peaceful way to end your working weekend. I also was paid by the hour versus Dolores who worked off tips, so for me it was easy money. The diner was pretty dead quite. The last regular paid for his coffee and made a joke he always made thinking that I had never heard it before. I cashed him out and smiled out of kindness at the joke that had gotten old 5 months prior. Dolores was sitting in the last booth, smoking and counting her tips.
Across the highway sat a row of hotels. As I cleaned off the booth and started my chores for closing time pre-maturely, I happened to see a tour bus at the Days Inn. A sea of grey hair poured out of the tour bus and into the parking lot across the highway. I wondered what they were on the tour bus for as this part of town didn't really have anything to look at. Just then, one by one they stumbled and started walking across the highway, headed straight for our diner. It was like a bad re-enactment of Dawn of the Dead. There were at least 80 of them dodging cars, falling into each other, stumbling towards the diner. I panicked. It was just me, Dolores, one cook, and one dishwasher on staff. In no way could we feed these people with such limited staff. I ran over to Dolores and screamed, "There are 100 people coming to the restaurant right now!" Dolores was on her feet in a matter of seconds as we both looked out the window at the scary scene.
I quickly ran and told the cook, Tammy, to call everyone to get back up and frantically put all of the menus on the table and started getting waters ready. We didn't have enough menus or glasses to cover this kind of sporadic event. The grey zombies got closer and closer. I was worried that the excitement of it all might kill Dolores and I didn't know how to take an order. I was very, very concerned. They flooded into the restaurant and took up every seat. I braced myself, took a deep breath, grabbed my notepad and walked to the first table.
"Hi, welcome to Family Inn. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Iced Tea?" They just stared at me. I was bewildered. Maybe they couldn't hear me because of the rush? I repeated myself, a bit louder. Again, they just looked at me. They started pointing at a menu and writing things down, which I couldn't read. It took me a moment, but I realized that all of the people in the restaurant were deaf. I glanced back at Dolores who was staring back at me in terror. How was I to serve all these people without knowing sign language?!
I had done 2 years of acting in plays at this point in my life, so I stretched my limbs and prepared for my best charade/ improv moves. Using my arms and legs and facial expressions, I acted out coffee, tea, milkshakes, paying close attention to mouth everything out slowly. I was also shouting in case some of them could hear me. I slowly got all of their drink orders after close to an hour, and I really had found my groove. I was bussing tables, running food, cashing people out, even taking a few orders (incorrectly). There wasn't a moment in that evening where I wasn't doing 5 things at the same time or not running around the restaurant. The people kept coming in and leaving and my acting and shouting had been perfected. I glanced around the restaurant after about 2 hours and there was a group of 4 people sitting at a booth staring back at me. I couldn't believe that I had missed them!!!
I ran over and shouted, "HI! CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK?!!!! COFFEE? ICED TEA?" whilst proceeding to pour myself and get really hot to symbolize coffee. I then made a milk shake and acted out drinking it and being refreshed. They stared at me without blinking. I was confused as this had been working all night. I repeated, "CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK?!!!!" and made the motion of drinking with my hands. The man looked at his family and then leaned over to me and said, "Uhh....we'll start out with 4 waters, please." I WAS MORTIFIED! THEY WEREN'T DEAF!!! I must of looked like the biggest idiot in the world! This was perhaps one of the most embarrassing moments of my life up until that point.
That night changed my life. I can no longer look at old people quite the same way again because I just picture them as zombies crossing a highway to eat...something...or someone? I also will never live down my embarrassment for shouting at a table and acting out beverages. The best part of it all? I now DOMINATE Charades. Bring it on!!!
Dolores was the typical crotchety old lady you find at most diners. She was about a million years old and very frail and sometimes I would worry that she would die on her shift in front of me. She didn't like me at first because any young person she felt threatened her job. She would sit in the back booth and chain smoke between taking orders and bringing out food. I desperately wanted everyone on the planet to like me at this time in my life, so I bent over backwards for her. I would do her side duties like wrap silverware, clean booths, run her food, and stay late to help her close. Eventually I won her over and we worked very well together. She was very sweet if people bothered to get to know her and she looked after me as a mother would look after her child.
It was a Sunday night. Sunday nights were notorious for being extremely slow because the rush of Sunday morning brunch was over. We typically would have the regulars come in, a few families for the Sunday night "Family Chicken Special," and truckers who were desperate to have a conversation about anything other than the road. I never minded working Sunday nights because after working the weekend morning shifts, it was a quite peaceful way to end your working weekend. I also was paid by the hour versus Dolores who worked off tips, so for me it was easy money. The diner was pretty dead quite. The last regular paid for his coffee and made a joke he always made thinking that I had never heard it before. I cashed him out and smiled out of kindness at the joke that had gotten old 5 months prior. Dolores was sitting in the last booth, smoking and counting her tips.
Across the highway sat a row of hotels. As I cleaned off the booth and started my chores for closing time pre-maturely, I happened to see a tour bus at the Days Inn. A sea of grey hair poured out of the tour bus and into the parking lot across the highway. I wondered what they were on the tour bus for as this part of town didn't really have anything to look at. Just then, one by one they stumbled and started walking across the highway, headed straight for our diner. It was like a bad re-enactment of Dawn of the Dead. There were at least 80 of them dodging cars, falling into each other, stumbling towards the diner. I panicked. It was just me, Dolores, one cook, and one dishwasher on staff. In no way could we feed these people with such limited staff. I ran over to Dolores and screamed, "There are 100 people coming to the restaurant right now!" Dolores was on her feet in a matter of seconds as we both looked out the window at the scary scene.
I quickly ran and told the cook, Tammy, to call everyone to get back up and frantically put all of the menus on the table and started getting waters ready. We didn't have enough menus or glasses to cover this kind of sporadic event. The grey zombies got closer and closer. I was worried that the excitement of it all might kill Dolores and I didn't know how to take an order. I was very, very concerned. They flooded into the restaurant and took up every seat. I braced myself, took a deep breath, grabbed my notepad and walked to the first table.
"Hi, welcome to Family Inn. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Iced Tea?" They just stared at me. I was bewildered. Maybe they couldn't hear me because of the rush? I repeated myself, a bit louder. Again, they just looked at me. They started pointing at a menu and writing things down, which I couldn't read. It took me a moment, but I realized that all of the people in the restaurant were deaf. I glanced back at Dolores who was staring back at me in terror. How was I to serve all these people without knowing sign language?!
I had done 2 years of acting in plays at this point in my life, so I stretched my limbs and prepared for my best charade/ improv moves. Using my arms and legs and facial expressions, I acted out coffee, tea, milkshakes, paying close attention to mouth everything out slowly. I was also shouting in case some of them could hear me. I slowly got all of their drink orders after close to an hour, and I really had found my groove. I was bussing tables, running food, cashing people out, even taking a few orders (incorrectly). There wasn't a moment in that evening where I wasn't doing 5 things at the same time or not running around the restaurant. The people kept coming in and leaving and my acting and shouting had been perfected. I glanced around the restaurant after about 2 hours and there was a group of 4 people sitting at a booth staring back at me. I couldn't believe that I had missed them!!!
I ran over and shouted, "HI! CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK?!!!! COFFEE? ICED TEA?" whilst proceeding to pour myself and get really hot to symbolize coffee. I then made a milk shake and acted out drinking it and being refreshed. They stared at me without blinking. I was confused as this had been working all night. I repeated, "CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK?!!!!" and made the motion of drinking with my hands. The man looked at his family and then leaned over to me and said, "Uhh....we'll start out with 4 waters, please." I WAS MORTIFIED! THEY WEREN'T DEAF!!! I must of looked like the biggest idiot in the world! This was perhaps one of the most embarrassing moments of my life up until that point.
That night changed my life. I can no longer look at old people quite the same way again because I just picture them as zombies crossing a highway to eat...something...or someone? I also will never live down my embarrassment for shouting at a table and acting out beverages. The best part of it all? I now DOMINATE Charades. Bring it on!!!
Friday, June 1, 2012
Amazing and Cheap Hair Tricks
Living paycheck to paycheck here in New York has made me given up some things I love, including hair services. I'm growing my hair out because I can't afford to pay $300 dollars to get my hair done in this city. I normally wouldn't blog about these things, but I have found some really amazing hair tricks that are free or pretty cheap.
1.) The secret to getting rid of oily hair: Baby powder. Put baby powder in your hair and rub it into your scalp. It's amazing how this works!!! My hair is naturally pretty oily after a day, so I do this to my hair especially when I am running late or my fringe is not looking super great.
Another secret to getting rid of oily hair is to wet it, apply hairspray to your scalp, and blow dry it. It gets rid of the oil, but I don't really like the way my hair feels after. Try either out and let me know what you think.
2.) Cutting your fringe. I love Kandee Johnson and her youtube posts are fantastic. I recommend watching them for tricks on makeup and shaping eyebrows. Her video on cutting your fringe saves me from going nuts between haircuts. Here is her youtube video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHWZcidY7ks
3.) Layering your hair. This girl's video isn't as good as Kandee's but she does add an interesting element--a razor. I have tried it out on my hair and I am pretty happy with my new look. Here's her video on how to layer your hair. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hK1BcftdyaY
And these are my secrets to fabulous hair!! Have a great weekend everyone!
1.) The secret to getting rid of oily hair: Baby powder. Put baby powder in your hair and rub it into your scalp. It's amazing how this works!!! My hair is naturally pretty oily after a day, so I do this to my hair especially when I am running late or my fringe is not looking super great.
Another secret to getting rid of oily hair is to wet it, apply hairspray to your scalp, and blow dry it. It gets rid of the oil, but I don't really like the way my hair feels after. Try either out and let me know what you think.
2.) Cutting your fringe. I love Kandee Johnson and her youtube posts are fantastic. I recommend watching them for tricks on makeup and shaping eyebrows. Her video on cutting your fringe saves me from going nuts between haircuts. Here is her youtube video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHWZcidY7ks
3.) Layering your hair. This girl's video isn't as good as Kandee's but she does add an interesting element--a razor. I have tried it out on my hair and I am pretty happy with my new look. Here's her video on how to layer your hair. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hK1BcftdyaY
And these are my secrets to fabulous hair!! Have a great weekend everyone!
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