I think that between the hours of 12:30 and 2:30 at my job, I've achieved new states of boredom. I can't access Facebook on the business internet, which is unfortunate, but even then I think it would have its limits of any sort of entertainment factor.
Today has been exceptionally slow. Over half of a family reunion just checked out, and what was a group of 30 individual rooms is now down to around 10. They were all lovely people, for the most part, with nothing but good things to say. Which is rare given that in every family there are always the stcik-in-the-mud/no-way-in-hell-can-I-ever-be-happy types. Anyway, with those folks gone and very few arrivals today, my day has been spent doing little lame tasks just to stay active and keep me from standing still behind my desk. You can only mop, dust, and make a pot of coffee so many times before it just becomes redundant, you know?
The interesting thing about working in a hotel is that you get to see the real face of people. In retail everything is very simple; very transaction-based. Sure there are those customers that you really connect or bond with, but those are few and far between. In the hospitality industry you get an actual good sense of how people act privately as well as in public; it's not just their game face that they're wearing. I've met some very nice and kind adults since working here. I've also met some very spoiled, very self-righteous adults. The kind who can barely handle it when it takes an extra five minutes for a fresh pot of coffee to be made, or who can't follow simple instructions on how to log on to the hotel internets; they expect you to do it for them.
It's not just an American thing, either. Spoiled adults come from all nations, or so I've ascertained. Apparently there are no limits to how truly moronic one can be when they feel as if they've got no time to take a moment, breathe, and think something through before they complain about it. Can't get the door open? Stop shoving your card in, pause for a moment, and carefully/lightly swipe it one more time. Very simple if you just come down and stop acting like it's the biggest and most inconvenient thing in the world, ever.
I really do like my job, though. I don't see myself getting burned out on this industry as fast as I did retail.
Still, I hope that things perk up for me in the writing department. I've had a great time writing again for Mutineer and really hope it brings steady work, or at least work every now and then a few times a year. We'll see what comes of it . . .
. . . I really need a new pair of shorts. None of mine fit me anymore. But when you shoot from a waist size of 34 to a 28 or 29 in just a year, that's bound to happen. I really like this soft linen shorts I found at H&M; they come in khaki or in basic black and they're disturbingly comfy and very well-made. The next time I have thirty bucks, yeah?
I've successfully made the transition to a soda-less life, and I have to say it's been quite an experience. Not only do a find that soda is more convenient than a healthy alternative (seriously--this is another reason why America is obese), but that taste-wise it seems like they don't even want to make diet soda attractive in taste or visual aesthetics. Diet Coke is, I'm sorry, totally atrocious. Diet Dr. Pepper is fairly acceptable. Diet Sprite is my favorite so far in terms of taste. Diet Root Beer of the Barq's variety is absolute nonsense. And why do they even bother to make Diet Red Bull? It does absolutely nothing and, if you read the calorie count, has nearly the same as a can of normal Coke. Worthless! But I've stopped getting it at restaurants, and stopped buying it on-the-go for a pick-me-up, and we only have diet at home. And it's diet soda all the way at bars and clubs.
Speaking of, I really want to go dancing some time soon. Perhaps after I buy my new shorts? But shorts at a club is so blech, unless you're going for a beachy/nautical/I'm adorable and should be on a yacht a'la Nate Archibald from "Gossip Girl" sort of look.
My birthday is in two weeks. I don't know what's planned, but Josh assures me he has everything under control. The control freak in me wants to jump in and take over, but I really don't want to get in his way on this. I had a ton of fun planning his birthday last summer and Julie's birthday this past Novemeber, and I LOVED planning our Halloween Party . . . So part of me really wants to get involved, but it's sort of my birthday, which means I can't and shouldn't butt in too much. What worries me is that he's going to go overboard or stretch his mind and wallet so thin that it will depress him, and then put him in a shitty mood if everything isn't perfect. In reality all I want is just to be drunk with my friends.
24, 24 . . . Will it be different than 23? Sources say no, not really. I'll find out soon!
"Everyone's alive but ill.
Let's just take a deep breath,
And lock the doors so no one;
No one has to know.
I can say I'm doing well,
As long as, as long as I can see the room
From the graveyard shift."
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Routinely Different
I just bought the following MP3s, which I'm sad to say I actually didn't have in my repertoire:
1. "In Circles" - Sunny Day Real Estate [yet I possess so much of their music . . . WTH?)
2. "Bang Bang, I'm a Burnout" - Dum Dum Girls [I liked them AFTER they became popular]
3. "While Oceana Sleeps" - Sparta [this album got all scratched to hell before I could back it up on the iTunes, so I'm starting to grab all of it again beginning with my favorite song off of it]
It's been a while since I wrote in this blog because so much change has been coming my way in the past month. March/April has ended up pretty rad and pretty much a bold step into the unknown as well. This strange existence I've made for myself in Seattle has yet to even out and become some sort of routine. Perhaps this isn't a bad thing? Still, I like lists and routines and day-to-day stuff. So perhaps the constant ebb and flow of change is just now part of my routine? I don't know. I suppose when ever I start seeing a pattern, I'll ease into it.
My closest friend from college Alli returned from Korea/New Zealand/L.A./Not-Living-Near-Me and it's been absolutely amazing to have her back. She and I spent an entire day together right off the bat hanging out and re-acclimating her to pervasive Western culture. She's mostly unaware of American pop-culture from 2008-2010, and it's hilarious and adorable. I explained the television show "Jersey Shore" to her, which was the most fun I'd had in days. She and I have already fallen back into our old relationship, and the ease at which we picked back up on each other's conversational nuances, witty banter, and finish-each-other's-sentences-style of interacting astonished me. It was as though she'd never left, to borrow a phrase from the rest of the everyone. She's beginning her search for a teaching job in Seattle and moving in with our friend Ellen and Kim, who is moving out of the apartment . . .
. . . Which is odd but pretty expected but still sort of weird as in I don't know how to feel about it? On the one hand I'm going to miss living with her, but on the other hand I think it'll be better for our friendship. When you live with someone there are bills and money and routines and who-gets-to-use-the-bathroom-first conversations and fighting cats, and that can put a tremendous amount of strain on a friendship. Not that I think it ever got bad between us or changed, but it still felt different sometimes. I'm sort of stoked that it won't be different anymore. I guess that's one strike against accepting the tides of change, yes? Plus this way Alli and Kim and Ellen can go be girly together so it's a good thing for all of us; I really truly believe.
I'm writing for Mutineer Magazine semi-officially now. The piece I'm working on has proven rather difficult, but once I sat down and chained myself to the desk for a solid two hours I found it was easy to get back into my normal writing flow. Everything balances itself out, I guess. Look for my story (hopefully) in the July issue of Mutineer. You can buy it nationally (holy shit). So please do.
We have to buy a couch now. IKEA looks promising. Not sure yet. I'll take pictures of it when we drop some dollars.
"You can't hear a sound,
When walls break down.
You've wasted my days,
Building on shaky ground."
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 -----> http://lostboi785.deviantart.com/ 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."
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 -----> http://lostboi785.deviantart.com/ 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."
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Current Infatuations
A few things that I'm curently obsessing over:
-"Country Noir" music. In other words, darker, thoughtful, sultry country music with a bit of a rock edge that tends to tug at the heart strings. See: Amy LaVere, Jenny Lewis (lately), The Raveonettes ca. "Pretty in Black," Johnny Cash (later in his life), The Pierces, Loretta Lynn remixes, Cowboy Junkies, The Derailers, and sometimes though perhaps not at all on purpose Sonic Youth.
- My big black way farer sunglasses: http://http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/Accessories/Sunglasses/Black-Retro-Sunglasses-936429.jsp [the hyperlink function is being odd, hence the big ugly link right here in the middle of this post--but trust me, they're yummy]
- The fact that my last retail job's paycheck still hasn't been mailed to me despite the fact that it was 3 weeks ago that I last worked for them, and that I called HQ and talked to the payroll department whom assured me they'd over night the check. Yeah, not so much. Still waiting on about $140...
- Did I mention Easter Candy in this blog already? I do believe I did. It's so delicious.
- Plain, cotton, solid colored v-neck tees. Yes I know I'm late to this hipster bandwagon and that I'm actually probably most likely not cool anymore, but they're just so damn comfortable. The most!
- Getting to see my family again. I had this strange dream last night where I went home to visit them, and my sister didn't know who I was at all. It was really, really surreal and awkward and it made me cry in the dream. I was in our kitchen and I was talking to her, and she was just ignoring me and playing with some handheld video game or something, and she kept saying "I can't talk to you right now" and I'd ask her "why?" and she'd reply "because I don't know you." My subconscious must have it in for me pretty badly. This dream then segued into a dream where I was working in the white house as an intern for fictional President Jedd Bartlett from "The West Wing." Mary Louise Parker's character was there, and so was the guy who plays Josh Lyman, and so was John Spencer's character, and inexplicably the guy who was my waiter at Red Robin last night . . .
- . . . Which, by the way, said waiter was incredibly hot, so he belongs on this list. And why were we at this veritable snaffu of a chain restaurant, you may ask? Simple explanation is that it was the original Red Robin restaurant; the first one ever. And it's closing down this week. And it's only 2 miles from my apartment. How could I not go? Plus, we had our out-of-town friends here and they really wanted to go, so in the spirit of letting people have their own vacations and getting to choose stuff, we accompanied them to a pretty decent meal.
That's all, for now. Although I'm sure this will change as quickly as the weather . . . When I make a country noir playlist, I'll post it.
"I went to a cobbler to fix a hole in my shoe,
He took one look at my face and said
'I can fix that hole in you.' "
-"Country Noir" music. In other words, darker, thoughtful, sultry country music with a bit of a rock edge that tends to tug at the heart strings. See: Amy LaVere, Jenny Lewis (lately), The Raveonettes ca. "Pretty in Black," Johnny Cash (later in his life), The Pierces, Loretta Lynn remixes, Cowboy Junkies, The Derailers, and sometimes though perhaps not at all on purpose Sonic Youth.
- My big black way farer sunglasses: http://http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/Accessories/Sunglasses/Black-Retro-Sunglasses-936429.jsp [the hyperlink function is being odd, hence the big ugly link right here in the middle of this post--but trust me, they're yummy]
- The fact that my last retail job's paycheck still hasn't been mailed to me despite the fact that it was 3 weeks ago that I last worked for them, and that I called HQ and talked to the payroll department whom assured me they'd over night the check. Yeah, not so much. Still waiting on about $140...
- Did I mention Easter Candy in this blog already? I do believe I did. It's so delicious.
- Plain, cotton, solid colored v-neck tees. Yes I know I'm late to this hipster bandwagon and that I'm actually probably most likely not cool anymore, but they're just so damn comfortable. The most!
- Getting to see my family again. I had this strange dream last night where I went home to visit them, and my sister didn't know who I was at all. It was really, really surreal and awkward and it made me cry in the dream. I was in our kitchen and I was talking to her, and she was just ignoring me and playing with some handheld video game or something, and she kept saying "I can't talk to you right now" and I'd ask her "why?" and she'd reply "because I don't know you." My subconscious must have it in for me pretty badly. This dream then segued into a dream where I was working in the white house as an intern for fictional President Jedd Bartlett from "The West Wing." Mary Louise Parker's character was there, and so was the guy who plays Josh Lyman, and so was John Spencer's character, and inexplicably the guy who was my waiter at Red Robin last night . . .
- . . . Which, by the way, said waiter was incredibly hot, so he belongs on this list. And why were we at this veritable snaffu of a chain restaurant, you may ask? Simple explanation is that it was the original Red Robin restaurant; the first one ever. And it's closing down this week. And it's only 2 miles from my apartment. How could I not go? Plus, we had our out-of-town friends here and they really wanted to go, so in the spirit of letting people have their own vacations and getting to choose stuff, we accompanied them to a pretty decent meal.
That's all, for now. Although I'm sure this will change as quickly as the weather . . . When I make a country noir playlist, I'll post it.
"I went to a cobbler to fix a hole in my shoe,
He took one look at my face and said
'I can fix that hole in you.' "
Saturday, March 13, 2010
That playlist I promised, and a few other things of note.
This is a "blog housekeeping" post, meaning it feels a little arbitrary but comes from a place of sincerity.
Ryan Goes to Work:
"Everybody Say" by Takka Takka
"Nick and Norah's Theme" composed by Mark Mothersbaugh
"In a Cave" by Tokyo Police Club
"Hard to Live in the City" by Albert Hammond Jr.
"Lights Out" by Santigold
"Ticking Clock" by Sisero
"Again and Again" by The Bird and The Bee
"Catch my Disease" by Ben Lee
"Every Time" by Lincoln Hawk (not a real band)
"Some are Lakes" by Land of Talk
"What I Am [cover]" by Emma Bunton
"Talk Show Host" by Radiohead
"Piazza, New York Catcher" by Belle and Sebastian
"When I Come Around" by Green Day
"Needle in the Camel's Eye" by The Wolfmen
"Plea from a house cat named Virtue" by The Weakerthans
"Racing Lights" by Stars of Track and Field
"Happiness" by Goldfrapp
"Acid Tongue" by Jenny Lewis
- Also, I have friends visiting from out-of-town this weekend and I couldn't be more stoked if I were at Disneyland chowing down on chicken tacos and a chocolate/vanilla swirl ice cream cone. Although that would be pretty damn awesome.
- Also, I finished that Chuck Klosterman book and thought it was only okay. Not as fresh feeling as Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs or as snarky in a fun way as IV, but somewhere in-between. At the end I was left wanting a bit more, and wondering if I'd really learned anything about anything other than just how the author feels about love, death, and Radiohead (I mean, the bits about Radiohead really are brilliant and insightful, but a tangent is a tangent is a tangent). I also have come to despise his critics--Not those who blast him, but those who praise him. His writing is great, but god damn it all he's not the next Hunter S. Thompson. He's a smart guy, but this narrative is not the front-runner of a new wave one might callously refer to as "modern gonzo journalism." Just because you don't get it doesn't mean it's Fear and Loathing. Stop pretending like you've read anything by Thompson, and stop pretending you care that Salinger is dead. FUCK.
- Okay, on a lighter note, it's Easter candy season, which means my love has returned to store shelves:
- So some of you out there might have cats. Answer me this, readers--Does your cat sometimes sit in the middle of the room in the sunlight and just meow and meow and meow for an unknown reason? I mean my god, I'm right here in plain view and there's food in the bowl and water in the bowl and what could she possibly need? Is she just validating her existence by proclaiming "I am here!" the only way she knows how or is there a more desperate and sad meaning to these cries? I need a book on cat dementia.
"Bitter heart, bitter heart tries to keep it all inside.
Bitter heart, bitter heart--The shadows will help you try and hide.
Bitter heart, bitter heart is getting just a little fragile.
Bitter heart, this bitter heart o' mine."
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