Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Dinner for Three?

Last Friday night Bryan and I ventured to Sedalia for some delicious barbecue (ok mostly for a fried portabella mushroom) at Kehde's. It was fairly busy, but not overwhelmingly so.

"Two of you?" the lady asked as we came in the door.

"Yes," I replied. She led us across the floor to a booth in the back. We scooted into the seat, then ordered drinks and the famous mushroom. We began talking idly about nothing in particular. Then I heard it.

"And OH MY GOSH! OH OH LOOK! HERE'S ONE OF ME AND JOE!!! Check this OUT!" I couldn't help but look toward the person seemingly YELLING across his table, letting his words hit the wall beside me and fall on my table. His friend sat quietly beside him as he shoved his camera in each person's face.

He was a lanky gentleman, probably in his early thirties. He wore pressed kakhi shorts, a fitted button-up shirt over a (even MORE fitted) t-shirt with neck, ear, and finger jewelry. His hair was perfectly styled. His lips were large, his voice was high, and he had a listhp ;) I can't say for sure, but I'm really convinced he was a drama major at some time in his life.

I averted my eyes immediately, assuming he had become carried away in his excitement. Immediately I realized I was wrong.

"OK! I'm having the pickles, Joe do you like the pickles?" (insert smirk here) He continued to yell his preferences (about the food, of course) across the room. I started to become irritated, because it was difficult to even carry on a conversation.

FINALLY his "pickles" arrived. Surely food would shut him up. He did quiet down for a few seconds. Ahhh a break. The dull roar of normal diners. The clank of dishes in the kitchen. It sounded almost like silence.

I looked up from my plate to see if he had left, or if he was just politely chewing his food without talking. His concentration was deep as he dipped his pickle. He stuck his tongue out a good four inches to catch it, then confirmed what I already suspected.


Yep. Food-talker. ;)

Friday, July 16, 2010

WOW that was surprising

It was a lovely friday afternoon when I found myself looking at the direct sunlight. It was so bright on my eyes I couldnt see anything. I'll never do that again... EVER!!!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

What are you doing here?

It was a typical Saturday night. Chloe was gone to her dad's house, and I was just starting my evening shift at Applebees. I walked toward the table, and immediately recognized the women sitting there. They aren't what I'd call gossips, but they are women...

Anyway, I smiled and greeted them, when one of them interrupted me and said, "Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She had that "ew" look on her face. I wasn't sure if she missed my nametag, or my apron, or the fact that I'd offered to get her something to drink. I fought my sarcasm, though, I did.

"I work weekends over here," I politely replied.

"Oh," she said, relieved. "So you're still teaching."

"No. Right now I'm staying home with Chloe."

"Oh," the "ew" tone was back.

I love teaching. I enjoy being submersed in language and literature on a daily basis. I love the feeling of half-days and long breaks. What I don't like, however, is the constant drama. There are cliques and double standards. The adult drama is often more intense than any of the teenage drama you hear about in the hallways.

I have enjoyed hearing the stories of how I'm this renegade evading the law, or how I was fired from three jobs, or how my license was revoked. However, my exit is just not that glamorous. I was never asked to leave a teaching position, except that one year with Jowell, but the board over-ruled that. I still hold a valid Missouri teaching license, which I will soon need to renew.

The truth is, there came a point where I couldn't take anymore. I needed a break. So I took one. I may go back to teaching in a year, I may go back in five, I may never go back.

For now, I enjoy staying home with Chloe. We spend lazy days in the pool, we run errands together, we watch t.v. together, we play together. We argue and fuss sometimes, and every morning we snuggle in bed together.

On the weekends I work three shifts at Applebees where I average 13 to 17 dollars an hour and take home cash money every weekend. I love my job. I clock out, and other than the occasional Apple-night-mare, work stays at work. Now and then I have a grouchy guest or I drop something, but for the most part I go hang out, do my job, and go home. The people there are enjoyable (mostly), and other than the occasional idiot, the staff is great. I'm stress-free, I have some money, and I'm spending time with my little mini-me.

That lady can feel sorry for me if she wants to, and she can wrinkle her nose at the sight of me with an apron full of straws rather than a red pen and loafers, but for me, for now, this is the good life.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Murphy's Andrea's Law

Many times I've referred to Murphy's Law as my own. I discussed my curse of being "left off the list" among other awkward mishaps. I've decided from now on, the law will be referred to as Andrea's Law. If you're unfamiliar with Murphy's Law because you've been living under a rock your whole life, or think it's something Mr. See forgot to teach you, Google it.

Anyway. Wednesday was a prime example of Murphy's, er ah, Andrea's Law. I was reclining on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs and sipping sweet tea when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but curiosity got me and I answered it.

"Hey Andrea?" The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it for the life of me.
"Yeah," I said, my heart pounding for some reason.
"Hey this is Matt from work," all the pieces of the puzzle fit and I was no longer dazed or confused.
"Hey," (Not much of a phone-talker as we know)
"Hey I saw you were wanting someone to work for you Sunday..."
"Um, yeah, that was last week, but..."
"Oh, ok. Well I was really needing someone to work for me tonight at 5."
I told Jodi I owed her one when I didn't work July 4th so I could go out of town with the family. I figured it was collection time.
"Ok, let me see what I can do about Chloe and I'll get back to you here in a little bit," Click. I'm not much for goodbyes either :)

So I left a message with Bryan and got the further details via text. In exchange for working Wednesday, Matt would work my Sunday morning. SCORE. I do only work two days a week, but those two days are Bryan's days off. Those are the days Chloe is usually gone, and those are the days we can stay out late and do what we want, but usually don't because I have to work.

Anyway. Matt also informed me that he worked at 5:15 and was the fourth of four servers (which meant an early release and little clean-up duties). I finally found out that Bryan was able to watch her for a couple hours so I could fill in. He, too, was excited that we'd have Sunday all to ourselves.

Upon my arrival to work, however, I realized I forgot to calculate My Law into the equation. You see, Matt didn't know the evening was already short-staffed. I was the third of three servers, and didn't get home until 10:30. Oh, and Matt works a double on Sunday, he is off on MONDAY, therefore I am STILL working Sunday morning. I guess that is what I get for working for a selfish reason. Gah. The Law.

Speaking of shift-switching, and not so much My Law, after allllll that, I got another strange phone call yesterday. When I checked my voicemail, it was Barguy. Barguy had a serving shift at 5 (this occurred at 3:30 b.t.w.) he needed someone to cover. He had some lame excuse about needing to pay his rent, and was DESPERATE!

I called him back and said I'd have to check on a sitter. I filed my nails, then called him back to let him know, DARN, I didn't find anyone. He was hateful, and tried to make it MY fault he hadn't paid his bills. I'm not much of a sympathizer though.

You see, this is the same barguy who was off last Sunday. The one who wouldn't switch shifts with me because he'd "really rather not work Sunday morning." This is the barguy who is a complete JERK 90% of the time that I'm not ignoring him. And this is THE barguy who wanted me to go out of my way to work for him, and STILL wasn't willing to trade a shift as a make-up.

In the end, I came out 60.00 richer, and barguy got a taste of his own medicine, so maybe My Law isn't always in force...

Thursday, July 1, 2010


I'm stuck.  I want to blog, but I'm stuck.  I don't have that little spark.  I just felt compelled to tell you.  Because I know you stopped by to see if I had written anything new, and I haven't.  I pull up this blank box every day, but I never publish anything, because nothing comes out right.  So.  I'm still here, I'm just stuck.  I'll be back when I get un-stuck I suppose :)