Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Drugs are bad.

Some of you may be wondering where I got my new banner for this blog at. Or some of you may not care. Either way I'm not talented enough to design something of that nature, so credit needs to be given where it's due.

My spiffy new banner was deisgned by my fantastic and talented boyfriend Mr. Josh V., and you can see more of his design and photography at his deviantART account located over here -----> His photography work, in my biased opinion, is particularly choice.

The new job is going well. It's nice to have dollars again, for the time being. People are either really, really great and friendly or really, really awful. Yesterday was an exceptionally bad day in terms of awfulness.

A guest at our hotel checked in the night before last, and was sketchy and loud and a total tweaker, and she and her boyfriend/husband/dealer/whomever kept making absurd demands (no, you can't get 10 extra pillows for a one night stay, but you can have 2--and no, it's not okay if you take chairs from other rooms because other people need their chairs, too). They also had an infant with them. I'm talking sock-on-the head, must be kept in a carrier or held, still breast-feeding infant.

Well they checked out the next day and had problems paying because they kept changing their minds on the payment method, and then had a nice long argument with each other in our lobby about money, which was awesome as I was taking calls. Then they left, and everyone was relieved.

And then a housekeeper found about a quarter of an ounce of crystal meth in their room.

Now of course no one can prove it belongs to them, and other than the fact that nobody else had been in the room in 72 hours there wasn't much to go off of. But once we'd all finished panicking, filing police reports, and calling in a team to come and test the room to see just how deep cleaned it needed to be (enough to strip all of the linens and throw them all out, but not enough to throw away the furniture--we ended up placing the room out of order for 48 hours while it's cleaned with special HAZMAT stuff), and disposing of the drugs, it dawned on me.

Baby. Breastfeeding. Meth in the room. Wow.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love kids. Absolutely and entirely, and I'll do pretty much anything to make them happy. Just the sound of a kid crying often puts me in a strange, sullen place because I hate to see them in pain or sad. When I watch Law and Order I revel in the moments when the fake criminals that harm children are captured and sent to jail (or worse).

So yeah, I kind of shut down and had a really hard time thinking about it. As a matter of fact, it's sort of bumming me out now so I'm going to drop the subject.

Cadburry Cream Eggs I've consumed thus far this Easter season: 3

Recently I've decided to cut soda out of my life as much as possible, and to only drink diet soda on certain occassions that may call for it (drinking at a bar [since I've cut beer out as well] or going to a movie for instance). I have to say, I don't know how people have been doing it. I know that the saying goes as "you can't taste a difference between the two kinds," but dear lord you definitely can. It's noticeable. And I'm not sure I like it. So perhaps it's time for me to just cut all things soda out of my life entirely? We'll see . . .

"Too much life in you, my dear.
I would sing;
You would burst in tears now."

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