Saturday, March 27, 2010

Alice doesn't live here anymore

Well that's all folks; I am no longer a waitress! Hallelujah or however the hell you spell it! Sorry to report that my last day went pretty uneventfully. No funny or quirky stories to report. I got nothing here people...have a good night!

The Countdown

Well in about 12 hours I will no longer be a waitress. Today is my very last shift at the restaurant that I work at. The very last waitressing shift ever in any restaurant, I hope anyway. You know I post an awful lot about the stress and the crazy people I have encountered in my 19 years of serving, but when I look back on it; those were some of the best times I've had. The people that I've gotten to meet and work with have all touched me in some way. We, the restaurant people, are a special kind. Not everyone can do this job, it takes a lot of skill, multitasking abilities and of course patience. I will miss it. I will miss the money.

Leaving this behind is a step into my new future but it's scary. I've never had to work for a paycheck. I just this week deposited 3 of my checks. I don't get to the bank very often, but anyways 3 checks still didn't amount to $100! Can you believe that? I will cope. I'll just learn how to budget. It will be different, but I'll manage.

Though none of the girls I work with know anything about this blog of mine I'd like to say goodbye to all of you. I hated you, I loved you, I worked with you, partied with you, went to your damn baby showers and birthday parties. I lived a lifetime with you and each and everyone of you shaped me into the person that I am. So for one last time I say to you: 86 the special!

Friday, March 26, 2010


I was rummaging through my old journals and I came across this entry. I don't remember the exact day I wrote it but I sure can feel the pain again. I've come so far from this that it almost seems like someone else must have written it. This is exactly why I've kept all these old that I won't ever forget where I came from and where I could go back to.

The flame dances underneath the dull, tarnished spoon creating a bubbling cauldron of poison. I drop the pillow of cotton into the hot liquid and as it absorbs the mixture my mouth waters and my body tingles. I draw my dose up into the needle, anticipating its numbing effects. The dull needle pierces my skin like a nail and I flinch in pain. I pull back on the plunger and watch the dark omniscient stream of hot red blood flow back into the syringe, and I push. The heroin slams into my vein like a roaring freight train, crossing over the synapses of my brain and washing my entire body in warmth, I am home, I am content. Smack is my lover, my friend, my medicine. I can no longer function without it. It is always there for me when I need it. It takes away the rawness of what my life has become; a constant search for nothingness.

My body melts into the dirty chair, my breath catches in my throat; this is premo dope. I can barely open my eyes they are so heavy. My arms feel like lead as I try to extract the needle from my swollen vein. Blood runs down my arm, I lick it up like a dog. I can feel the nod coming on strong and heavy and I hold my breath waiting for it to take me to that place; the dark place where no light can enter, no thoughts can roam, and no feelings can be felt. Being on the nod is like being semiconscious. I can hear the others around me talking, but it’s just murmurs, nothing really makes sense but I don’t care. I am where I need to be.

When I wake there is a long string of drool from the corner of my mouth and my body is no longer on the chair. I am lying face down on the filthy worn carpet and I am alone. They have all left to go score and left me here to die. This is happening more often, me falling out and not remembering what happened. It doesn’t frighten me like it should, it just is. I pull myself back onto the chair and rummage through my pockets for a cigarette. I pull out a little blue bag with the words Jaguar stamped on the front, and I remember that I had saved one bag just in case my body didn’t succumb to the shot I had just taken. I am playing Russian roulette with my life, waiting for the jolt that will end this misery. I light a cigarette and cook up my last bag of dope.

I am a junkie. I am an animal. I do not bathe, I do not eat, I do not live; I scavenge. I am a lost soul. I am looking for death to release me from the pain that I am in. I did not start out like this. I was a smart, funny, and shy little girl who was loved and cared for. My parents raised me with morals and values and did right by me. I was not abused or neglected. I had everything I needed and most of what I wanted, so I cannot blame my upbringing on the monster that I have become. No, I am responsible for the decisions I made and the actions that I took. This hell that I live in is all my own doing. This is all that I know to do; use drugs and cover up the feelings and emotions that are dying to be felt. If I were to allow myself to feel these things I would surely kill myself.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

To Be or Not to

I can't believe that I have nothing to do or anywhere to be today. I finished up my externship yesterday so now I have the whole day to myself. I can anything I want or nothing; it's up to me! What a great feeling!

I enjoyed doing my externship but I'm glad it is finally over. I was required to do 270 hours, which doesn't sound like that much; let me tell you, it is A LOT. I was doing 35 hours there a week plus working my waitressing job and I am exhausted and burned out! I was pretty fortunate to have gotten that site though cause I've heard some horror stories from other students. One girl told me that all her site allowed her to do was file old records for 270 hours; I'd kill myself.

The doctor and his staff were very nice to me and never tired of my endless barrage of questions. I learned a shitload of stuff that they just can't teach you in school. Dah, that's why they make you do one in the first place.

Even though I learned alot and truly liked the people there, some days were pretty akward for me. The office manager is a born again christian. I don't know how we got on the subject, but she was telling me that her oldest son is a gay man who has AIDS. She then proceeded to tell me that she prays that God releases her son from his "bondage" of homosexuality. I was stunned to silence. I didn't say anything. It wasn't the place nor the time to get into some heated arguement about sexuality and religion. Everyone has their right to their own beliefs. I'm pretty calm when it comes down to things like that. Yea I'm gay but not everyone needs to know that. I wasn't really all that offended. She wasn't gay-bashing or calling him a fag or anything. She is just a mom who loves her son but doesn't really understand what it means to be a homosexual. She is one of a million people who think it's a choice that we make and that we can just turn it off.

I asked one of my friends about what I should do. Should I tell her that I am gay too and that I don't see it as a "bondage". My friend kinda chuckled and said that she wouldn't say anything because then this woman would try to "save" me and start handing me little Jesus books and shit like that. So I laughed it off. Was that the right thing to do? Who knows. It doesn't really matter. I know who I am and I also know in my heart that god made me this way, it isn't bondage or a burden, it's just a part of who I am.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Is There a Vet in the House?

Somebody anybody needs to help me before I kill her. Seriously, do they perform voiceboxectomies on cats? I need one stat for my Mia. She is driving me absolutely apeshit with her constant meowing. It is incessant. Meoooooow, meooooow, get the picture.

I don't know what her problem is. I have tried everything imaginable to ease her discomfort or whatever it is she's crying about. Treats, tricks, toys, soft food, you name it I've tried it. I cant stand it anymore! Anyone looking for a cute, cuddly little puddy cat to share their insanity with, gimme a call. I'll pay you to take her.