One Pushup, Two Pushups, Ah! I Give Up!

I think I made mention of the fact that I was going to start going to a gym for exercise in my last post.  Well, I had my first day on Saturday and I know I’ve got a ways to go.  First of all, I haven’t trained in years.  I was a teenager when I began training with a Vietnam veteran, ex-paratrooper.  The sessions were three times a week for ninety minutes and we worked hard.

The training lasted for two and a half years and then the attention shifted to my younger sister since she was playing basketball.  I petered off the training after that and then I graduated and just started working.  I had no drive to exercise so I really didn’t.

Now, years later, I am tired of my sister’s taunts and I do want to get some muscle definition, so I went in.  I was stupid and hadn’t eaten anything before I went in (I also had a little too much to drink last night [story for another time]) and I felt nauseous and light headed, but we took it easy and slow.  He had me on the bike for a time, we did kettle bells, pushups on raised boxes, squats, and so on.  I definitely regretted not eating, but guzzled my water as fast as I could to make up for it.  He liked that my form had not suffered from years of disuse.  He gave me some tips and offered to be my trainer should I choose to be trained.

As of right now, I am ‘determined’ to go twice a week, once after class on Wednesdays (between that and my other job), and once on Saturday after tutoring (radiology is no joke).  However, I guess I could also go in on Mondays after class and between my doctors.  Just so the effect might be faster.  Also, I am contemplating protein powder in shakes and such.  Otherwise, I’m not changing my diet.  After all, I only weigh a little over 110 soaking wet.  I just want to build a little muscle and maybe put on a few extra pounds and we shall see.  Ah!  I pulled one of the many muscles in my body!

And on that note, it’s been real!

Prairie Dog Poppers

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re looking at the picture and the title and wondering, “What could this be about?”  Well, I can tell you it’s about funny little observations I’ve made while being a hostess, and most people do it.

Now, everyone hates to hear that there is a wait of any kind for a table.  They want to sit down right then and there and order their food and drink and eat immediately.  Nice, right?  Well, on Fridays and Saturdays at most establishments, you have to wait a few minutes.  Sometimes longer.  Don’t get all pissy about it.  Accept it as a fact of reality and life and you’ll find inner peace.  I’m kidding… but, seriously, shut up instead of winging about waiting.

Anyway, at my restaurant when I tell people to wait, I always scope the joint and see them looking around, as if them staring at desirable tables will somehow make them get up faster.  Hate to break it to you, but that isn’t going to happen.  We have a couch before our fireplace, and frequently I tell people to sit there while they wait to get them out of my hair.  A few minutes later, as I glance around, I’ll see somebody stand up and look around and maybe even point to a table.  You do realize that people can see you, right?  You’re not suddenly gifted with invisibility.  Reminds of the Cone of Silence from Get Smart.  We all know how that turned out.  They look silly and tables that are already seated and eating or talking, give them looks.  They pop up like prairie dogs and I have to chuckle.  I gave you a wait that was ex amount of time long.  And you’re already impatient five minutes in?  Gah!  The prairie dogs are on the loose!

In other words, when a hostess gives you a wait time and you sit down, don’t pop back up again to check on a table.  People will be judging you.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Don’t Throw the Gauntlet… Smack Em’ with It

So… some pretty stupid people crossed my path over the holidays and at school when I returned.  As per usual, it was equal parts amusing and annoying.  The Wednesday before Christmas wasn’t atrocious, but Friday and Saturday were a little crazy.  There seemed to be quite a few large, walk-in parties.  Nobody could be bothered to pick up the phone and check to see if we had room.

Oh, well!  I went on a wait, which I always start out a little high on just so I can gauge how long people will stay and camp out.  And of course, everybody and their mother (literally) has a problem with that.  It was getting late and I saw many parties walk in and ask for larger tables, or for tables to be pushed together in order to accommodate them.  Sometimes I could do that if the tables were in the same section, but I hated confusing the servers if the tables weren’t together.  Anyway, I filled up and went on my wait.  Close to 8:00 (and I was still buys), four people walked in: a middle-aged woman, two younger girls, and a younger man.  They asked me for a table and I told them what the wait was.  The middle-aged woman started giving me reasons why they needed a table… something about baking all day and being hungry, yada, yada, yada.  I repeated what the wait was.

Then, one of the girls asked, “What about that table next to you?”  This little table can be a part of my table where I work, but by itself, it’s a little two top.

“That’s a two top,” I said, stating the obvious.  The middle-aged woman then turned her beady eyes on my table.

“Can’t we join that and sit there?  I mean… do you need it?”  I looked down at my little, itty, bitty work station, which was covered in menus, special sheets, seating chart, and wait list.  It was literally covered in things and she wanted me to remove and find a magical place to put my stuff.  I glanced up at her, my face

Be Prepared! I Was Prepared!

Whenever I go to a convention, I dress to impress.  Quite frequently, I’m already thinking about the following year’s costumes.  When you’ve been dressing up as long as I have, you know how to create a system that works and gets me my costumes in a timely manner.

This year, I purchased my ticket for Tekko, 2018 already and I’ve taken a look at the costumes for next year.  I already decided to be Holo, the Wise Wolf one day; and Hela, the Goddess of Death another day.  I have an envelope on my desk with all I’m going to need written on the front of it, along with where I can get it and how much it costs.

I reached out to the person who makes most of my props (she made my Kid Loki Helmet, Loki’s scepter, and my gun) and she is going to make my Hela headdress and sword.  I am saving my money so that I can get my costumes probably starting in the middle of February to make sure that it has arrived and fits me before April.  Some people (my brother) say I’ve got all my ducks in a row way too early.  I don’t think so.  It’s always nice when you get your costume all together, and then you try it one when you think about the convention and get excited.  It breaks up the monotony of your day.  And that always puts a smile on my face.

And on that note, it’s been real!

If Looks Could Kill

We’ve all heard the saying, ‘if looks could kill’ to describe how somebody is looking at another.  My face has been described as a pallet of emotions.  Sometimes, I’m good at hiding my feelings and not letting somebody know how much I despise them.  Other times, I’m sure they take a step back as I slowly start to melt their skin like acid with just my glare.  I have certain expressions for certain people and sometimes, that’s the only one they see (probably because they’re always *ssholes).  These are my expressions and they apply to these people.

Mildly bored: my eyebrows quirk ever so slightly and my mouth struggles to not open in a yawn.  A tend to lean back in a sort of stretch in my seat, or on my heels, and I heave a tired sigh.  This applies to people who take a long, Long, LONG time to ask for something.  That and people who don’t speak very good English, and they don’t bother to try to enunciate.  Perfect example would be an Asian patient (who is already demanding and imagines things) a few nights ago at my office.  She called and I had a difficult time hearing her and she talked fast, even though I told her to repeat and slow down.

Slightly amused: my lips twitch as I attempt not to openly smirk.  My eyes crinkle a little and the muscles in my cheeks also quiver.  I tend to lean forward, a show of interest.  This expression happens when I see something that tickles my funny bone; usually with children who do something silly, or adults who do something stupid.  I usually make this face when people sit themselves at the restaurant, ignoring my sign (which, in turn, makes me ignore them).

Irritated: my brows furrow and my mouth twists up.  My eyes narrow and my facial muscles pinch.  I kind of look like a sexy lemon.  My shoulders will tense up, and I’m like a bow string pulled taught.  I tend to get this way with people who are brick walls and don’t want to comprehend the words that I am saying.  Patients who want what they want when they want it, usually illicit this response from me.  Them, and the customers at my restaurant who challenge me whenever I lay down the law.  Like the Incredible Bulk this past weekend.  He was definitely getting the irritated look.

Sadly sad: my eyes droop and the corners of my lips take a downward turn.  Almost all the muscles of my face seem to be pulled down by gravity.  My shoulders sag and my pupils become red/wet.  I never cry in public, but sometimes, when things are really sh*tty, I look like I’m about to.  I’m sure I looked like that when a patient yelled at me in front of my manager and said I was terrible at my job, even though this was the first time we had interacted with each other.  Real tears came after I was in the office and could call her a fat cow.

Flirty: I haven’t been flirty in a while, but whenever I am, my one eyebrow goes up, and my mouth forms a smirk.  My head tilts casually to one side, exposing my neck a little bit; the universal sign of interest.  As I said, I’m not normally flirty.  The only times I am is if an attractive or chivalrous man pays me a compliment and talks to me.  I did that when a middle-aged, but handsome man asked me if the little flowers he had brought for a first date were appropriate.  I said it was very gentlemanly of him, and that I liked it, complete with flirty expression and head tilt.

Everyone has those faces they make for certain people, particular situations, or just expressing what they feel inside.  Sometimes, people are good at wearing masks and keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the world; and others are an open book.  Which one are you?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Socialism: Socially Broken

Yesterday, I watched a video on Youtube of a reporter asking college students if they would accept socialism in America, and if they thought it would be good.  Like the dumb snowflakes they were, they answered, “Yes, socialism gives everything to the populace and closes the gaps between the rich and the poor.”  Okay…  Have you never studied History?  Oh, that’s right!  The public school system hides the truth about History.  Let me give you a break down.

Socialism was invented by a man named Karl Marx in 1848, but the seeds for socialism were planted during the French Revolution.  The French populace demanded the monarchy be torn down and equality instated.  But what is equality?  The French people believed what Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety told them, but they were still subjugated to the horror of the Reign of Terror just like the aristocrats.  There was no equality.  There was only the illusion of equality.  The only thing that was equal, was that they were all equally dead.

Anyway, socialism was officially created by Marx on 1848, and the definition of socialism is as follows: ‘a political and economic theory of social organization that advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole.’  Now, the idea of socialism is an impossibility.  Why?  Because not everyone works the same, and if the lazy clunk over there gets the same as the hard working Joe on this side, then how is that fair to Joe?  As I have said, in my office, I work harder than the other girl at the front when I was there all the time.  In a ‘fair’ society, she should not have been making the same or receiving the same benefits if she wasn’t putting in the proper effort for it.  Effort+time+labor=rewards.  Effort: the amount of physicality you put into doing something.  Time: the amount of minutes or hours involved in completing something.  Labor: the amount of pencil pushing, data shifting, or heavy lifting you did to finish something.  Rewards: the golden carrot at the end of the stick.

Another fact, did you know that the Russians, more specifically, the Bolsheviks, took socialism and turned it into communism?  They took the outline of socialism left by Marx and others, tweaked it, changed the name, and created communism.  Now, the definition of communism is this: ‘a political theory derived from Karl Marx, advocating class war and leading to a society in which all property is publicly owned and each person works and is paid according to their abilities and needs.’  Alright, again, the common people did not benefit from this system.  The ones in power held the reigns (and the money and the weapons).  See?  These systems pretend to promote equality of wealth and production and rights, but they are really lying to the people.  And that is what is happening to these college students.  They are being led down the primrose path, and being promised a world where everybody eats rainbows and poops butterflies.  It’s just not possible!  Don’t you think, if everyone was meant to live equally in this world, a higher power would give handouts like the government?  No.

Certain jobs get paid certain wages; and certain hit it big because they were smart (or cheated, that happens too), and some people don’t because they aren’t that smart, or don’t want to take the risk.  These factors come into play, but nobody is ever willing to accept their lot in life.  They look at another, more successful person and instead of thinking, ‘I should strive to work harder so I can be like him’, they think, ‘He should be made to give me his money so he can more like me.’  Handouts, welfare, and social security are not helping this country or society as a whole.  Instead, they are making it harder for young people to get started in life, with their careers, and it is deluding the youngest generation into believing that these are the norms, and therefore, acceptable.  Do yourself a favor: don’t believe in socialism.  Remember what happened to France?  Chaos.  Remember what happened to Communist Russia?  Chaos.  Is that word in your future?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Advice from the Fashion (Wo)Man

One thing I like to think people can trust me with when they come to me is fashion advice.  Usually, my sisters, and a few of my friends.  They’ll ask me for my opinion about costumes for conventions, and my younger sister will usually ask me about what to wear to school dances and so on.  Makeup too.

Depending upon one’s age, dress accordingly.  Don’t be thirteen going on thirty, or sixty pretending to be twenty (I’ve seen that, and it’s given me nightmares).  My younger sister only just turned eighteen this year, so, she can stick to the skinny jeans and the cute tops.  Her face and skin tone don’t really seem to support dark eye shadow, so I recommend that she sticks with the light browns, beiges, and pinks.

At twenty-two, I have been transitioning into shorter skirts with heels, and tight, low-cut tops.  Only for outings at bars.  😉  Still haven’t had a lot of those that didn’t take place after I was getting off work.  It’s harder to carry all that fancy stuff in a small bag than it is to simply put it on and go.  And actually, it’s kind of funny that my mom will go shopping, find something that is really cute (on clearance or sale), and if it doesn’t fit her, she’ll give it to me.  Quite frequently, I find myself getting clothes that way.  Other times, it doesn’t work out and she has to return them.  I’ve gotten some pretty little tops from my mom’s penchant for clearance racks.

Now that autumn is here, I’ll start wearing my boots.  Tall boots when I’m feeling punky; and short, heeled ankle boots for a classier approach.  Shorter dresses are also catching my eye.  Hey!  If a girl is maybe going to a wedding in the next couple of months, one can never shop too early.

And on that note, it’s been real!

The Unwanted Filter

Don’t you love it when you’re trying to text people and you really want to get your point across about how you feel about a certain situation or a person.  And everyone know’s the best way to do that is by the usage of curse words!  I’ve done a post in the past where I discussed alternative expletives, but now, I’m talking about the actual curse words.  You have to put them in the text because just typing them makes you feel better.  And then you press the ‘space’ bar and that’s when one of your worst enemies kicks in: autocorrect!

It automatically changes the word to something that sounds nicer, but lacks the same eloquence that your previous word have had.  So, you backspace and try again.  Sometimes it works, and you can spell the ‘correct’ word and get your point across.  Other times, it refused to acknowledge that ‘f*ck’ is the word you want to use instead of ‘duck’.  Another one is ‘shut’ for ‘sh*t’.  Then ‘mother trucker’ for ‘mother f*cker’.  That and ‘mother forklift’.  ‘Damn’ simply drops the ‘n’ and it becomes okay to use.

It’s very funny to watch your phone attempt to fix you as it adjusts your spelling.  Quite frequently, I will accidentally send out a text with the autocorrected word in it, and then send another text with the real curse word that I managed to finagle in there.  Look phone, just send the message I want to send, and don’t try to tell me what to say.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Dr. Google Will See You Now

The Internet is equal parts informative and idiotic.  You can learn new things from looking it up on the Internet, and other times, you just make yourself a little more stupid.  Not going to lie; I’ve looked up something on the Internet, made a statement about it, and was made a fool of when I was corrected.  I have since learned to be more discerning and find out from multiple sources whether it is the truth or a misconception.

Now, what I find particularly hilarious, is when patients walk into an office, and say they have this certain ailment.  The assistant or the doctor asks them why they think they have that.  “Oh, I looked it up on Google.”  … crickets …

Do you have any idea how stupid you look to the doctor when you say that?  Incredibly, powerfully, monumentally, and insanely a few plums short of a pie.  That kind of stupid.  Google is a wonderful place.  But may I also remind you that it was the building block for Tinder, Tumblr, and a whole slew of other sites most people would like to forget they were ever a part of.  So… the next time you are feeling ill, and want a ‘first opinion’, don’t go to Google.  Unlike your doctor, Google doesn’t have a Ph.D.  Okay, maybe it does.  But it actually stands for ‘Published Health Distortion.’

And on that note, it’s been real!

Fraud: It’s Terrifyingly Real

Alright, this particular post is not going to be a ‘poking fun at people’ or an ‘advice list’.  This is a story that I wish hadn’t happened to me.

On Friday last week, after I was done having fun at my soiree for work, and had said goodbye to my coworkers, I was driving home to prepare to visit my sister’s apartment.  As I was driving, my phone rang and I answered it.  It was a recording saying that the IRS had found a miscalculation on my taxes, and an arrest warrant was pending for me.  To say I was a little freaked, would be an understatement.  I got home, called the number, and asked what the f*ck was going on.  I spoke to an Indian man, who threatened me if I told anyone what was going on, and if I hung up the phone.

I was afraid for myself and my family.  They told me that I owed them over $2,000 and that I had to pay everything right then and there.  I had never heard of this type of fraud before, and I was able to persuade them that if they called me back in an hour, I would have the money.  In that space of time, I told my parents and my elder sister.  They said it was a scam and to tell them to go screw themselves.  My younger sister and I drove to our elder sister’s apartment, and during the drive, the scammers tried to call me over ten times.  At one point, my sister told me to answer the phone.  I did, and she said, “Go f*ck yourself!”  I hung up a split second later.  They tried again, and I ignored it.

When we arrived at my sister’s, they tried again, and I ignored it again and again.  Finally, my older sister took my phone, answered, and said a whole slew of things that I will not go into detail on.  They tried calling me again on Saturday, but I ignored it.  I called my bank, put a few of my cards on fraud watch, cancelled my current debit card and ordered a new one, and put a complaint on FTC Complaint Assistant.

I feel better now that I’m pretty sure my money is safe, but the feeling I was experiencing on Friday, was fear.  These people… these animals, get something from terrorizing innocents.  They take their money and possibly, ruin their lives.  I’m not a rich person.  I don’t have money to throw around.  If they had succeeded, there was a good chance I never would have recovered.  I was afraid that day.  I never want to experience fear like that again.  People like them deserve to be arrested and put away for good.  Or worse.  I’m not a forgiving person.  It’s not in my nature.  And when people make me feel fear, I feel weak.  I don’t like feeling weak.

Just know that if you get a call like that, and somebody threatens you and tries to take what’s yours, stand up for yourself.  Make them feel fear.  Let the inner beast out and you will not only save your assets and future, you will also save your pride.

And on that note, it’s been real!