Saturday, September 12, 2009

Pretty green bottles

What is wrong with people? When did it start to be okay to try and overrun a waitress? You go to a restaurant to eat and drink, to have a good time. I, the waitess, am there to make your experience pleasurable. I had a duece last night that was pretentious the moment I approached the table. There is nothing more rude than to be completely ingnored when you go to the table. I always start out with "hi how are you this evening" and 5 out of 10 times I am completely ignored. It's like I am not even there, um hello the human being standing infront of you spewing words is trying to get a drink order from you! Here's another pet peeve of mine when I ask you if you'd like a beverage don't say oh no I don't drink. I didn't necessarily mean an alcoholic drink asshole, that's why I said beverage, pay attention. The next one that gets under my skin is oh no I don't want anything to drink I'll just have water. Well unless you plan on taking a fucking bath with the water you are going to drink it! Anyways about the couple from last night. Like I said they were a bit stuck up but overall ok. They were seated in a booth that had a view of a section of the bar that we store the wine. The woman asked me "can you give me one of those empty wine bottles over there". I looked and notice she was looking at wine bottles that have yet to be corked, she was assuming they were empty because the cork wasn't sticking out. So I nicely explained to her that they were not infact empty but waiting to be corked. She got huffy with me and told me that she is need of a green bottle. Ok ma'm but this doesn't change the fact that the bottle is full of wine. I suggested that she could buy the bottle of wine, but of course I am an asshole for this suggestion. So holding back my tongue I try one more time to be cordial and I tell her that I go to a huge flea market on the weekends and I find a lot of glassware there, maybe you could try something like that. That's an honest tidbit of my life that I shared with these customers whom I am just trying to serve food to by the way. The look on her face is priceless, not only is she looking at me like I have 9 heads, she takes offense to the suggestion that she would frequent a place such as a flea market! Well la de dah you stuck up bitch! Take your cheap ass outta here and go buy a cheap bottle of wine then cause I'm out of suggestions for you. Even after her implication that I am less of a person because I frequent flea markets she has the audacity to tell me (not ask by the way) to have the bartender save her one of the elusive green bottles when it is emptied. I tell her I will be sure to do that for her. Fuck you, this post is the closest you will come to getting your precious bottle!

Friday, September 11, 2009


I was one of the fortunate 65,110 people to attend the Steeler's game last night, that was an attendance record by the way. Nothing can compare to watching the game right there in the stands, the smell of the hotdogs, the frothy cold beers, and the roar of the crowd. They said that there are no fans like Steeler fans and with this I would have to agree. The excitement emulates like a force field, you can't help but smile.

Because this is a frequent experience for me to attend a game, I was still smiling even though they weren't playing so well. The fans around me however, were not so gracious. Wow when our amazing Steelers are doing well, everyone is thrilled and waving their terrible towels like madmen, but when they don't do so well forget it. These fans turn on them like a dime, bums, loosers and other such names can be heard muttered under breaths. Oh well nothing like a Steeler fan!

I had a great time and now have a new memory of a time spent with my wonderful father. Thanks Susie for the tickets, they mean more than you will ever know.

Thursday, September 10, 2009


So I am finally home from "school" which is feeling more and more like a zoo than an institution of learning. I chose, after many years of waiting on tables and going nowhere, to better myself and get an education. I thought that was the reason for anybody who went to school. Apparently I was wrong in my perception of motivations. I am surrounded by a bunch of lazy, ungrateful, disrespectful, uneducated, ghetto students, and I use the term students loosely, whether I am in class or not. The chaos that consumes my classroom is ridiculous. Many of us are growing weary and frustrated that we are unable to learn, we are constantly disrupted by childlike behaviors. I am what is considered a "non-traditional" student which basically means I am an adult in every sense of the word, not just age but maturity and responsibility play into this factor. Now don't get me wrong I do not attend a major university or even a state school for that matter, but when I am spending close to $30,000 for my education I don't care if it is in the middle of the woods, I expect to learn and be able to hear myself think. This is not the case most of the time. My class this morning is a medical coding class and to do this you must be able to think. As I am trying to ignore the incessant chatter around me, a near-fist fight breaks out. I hear it start off as two girls bickering back and forth about some text message the other didn't like. This meaningless chatter starts to turn ugly quickly, words are spewing forth like lightning bolts, the noise level rises as well as the pressure in the room. Before an all-out physical altercation breaks out the instructor insists that the both of them leave class. Not only are they disrespectful to eachother and the rest of the class, now they are cussing at the teacher and refusing to leave. The entire charade lasted only a few minutes, but when you sit back and add all of these minutes that we get interupted each day the minutes turn into hours.

I cannot stand the total disregard that these kids have for other human beings. When did we begin to teach children that they are entitled to whatever it is that they want? Why would someone sign up for school and then bitch and moan when homework is assigned? I was not the most scholarly in high school, I'll admit that, but I did not blatenly disrespect my teachers or other students. These people are from a different world than I was raised in. In my day, God I hate saying that!, we were taught to raise our hands and wait to be called upon. No not today, they call out questions no matter who the instructor is speaking with and they expect an answer now, not later. How fucking rude can you be? I hate them all. I am there to learn so that I can one day get a better job and be able to support myself and my family. I just wish that these kids would grow up and if they don't want to be there, then don't come! You'd be saving me a lot of headaches and frustration!
I always read a bit before going to bed and last night was no different. I had started a new book by David Sheff, "Beautiful Boy". I had read his son's book titled "Tweaked". The little bit that I have read had me thinking back to a time when I caused this same pain to my parents and I felt ashamed. I too suffered through an addiction and while my pain was apparent to me, my parents mostly suffered alone, I never really thought about what I was doing to them. There is a part in the book when he talks about resenting his son's addiction because while he is high he gets a reprieve from the pain whereas the family members of the addict never get this, they continue to suffer day in and day out. I had never thought of this before and it disturbed me because it is so true. When I was getting high I escaped my hell by being obliviated and then nothing mattered, my parents however did not get to escape my hell or their own for that matter. Although I am clean now I still have feelings of guilt and remorse, shame, degregation, and embarrasement. No my parents are not to blame for my addiction, no one but myself can take the blame for the way I chose to live my life for so long. It was a hell that I hope I will never have to go through again.

I tossed and turned all night, waking each hour from a dream that I could not seem to shake away. I don't remember all the details but the overall feeling of it was dread. I am sure that it is related to my feelings before I went to bed last night of being such a "bad" child. I have apologized to my parents over and over, but is this enough to get rid of the hidden guilt I carry around in my heart? Will I ever forgive myself? I don't know the answers to these questions and that scares me. There is always that possibility that addiction will rear its ugly head in my direction again and destroy everything I have worked so hard for these last few years. I actually am okay with who I am and who I want to become today. That's not something I could have said even a year ago. Of course there are things I wish I could change but for the most part I am satisfied.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Sugar bear

I wanted to set up my own blog just to see what would come out of my mouth and onto the paper (well so to speak). Now that I am actually trying to write a post I don't have any clue what to say! Go figure. Thats normal for me, the thoughts that are up inside of my head are always jumping around like circus freaks. It takes time to sort through and find the ones I want to explore. I am thrilled that I will be at the Steelers first game of the season with my father tomorrow night! I love my father and am looking forward to spending an unforgettable evening with him.
I am avid reader and I just finished Augusten Burrow's "A wolf at the table" and was reminded of how fortunate I am to have had a father who adored me. My dad used to call me his sugar bear when I was a little girl and till this day whenever he says those 2 little words I choke up and my eyes tear up. I cannot imagine my childhood, my life without him. He inspires me with his calm gentle ways. He has this wisdom that can only come from his having to grow up so early in life. I hope that he knows how remarkable he is to me and to the world. Someday when I have children of my own I hope that I can be as good a parent to them as my dad was and continues to be to me.