Happy Halloween!

So I filled out the application, took a written test (!), had one interview, and have a final interview on Thursday. Who knew getting back into Red Lobster would be so difficult?? Twenty years ago, it was like, "Ok, you want a job? Great - start next week." Apparently they are a bit more picky about their employees now! But on a good note, when I went in for the first interview, I ran into one of the waitresses I used to work with. She remembered me, and it was great to see her. She told me that she has now been with RL for 25 years. And? She had seen Tandy quite a bit up until about 6 years ago. I told her about my dreams, and she said last she knew, he was doing ok, no longer with the anesthesiologist though. Anyway, she told me she would put in a good word - even though she remembered I was "let go" way back when. "That was SO long ago - they'll never know" she told me. "Don't even worry about it!" So, I'm not. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and will have news for you on Thursday.

Now down to real business - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! I'm not really big on dressing up myself, but I enjoy seeing other people's costumes. Especially kids'. ESPECIALLY really really cute kids, like, say, oh, I don't know - my godson, maybe??
And how funny is this? Erik is my godson - and his father, my moronic baby brother, apparently is God. For one day at least. He just thinks he is the rest of the year...!
Finally, although Lexie is officially going to be "Just-Woke-Up-Pajama-Girl" with her friend, she had to emulate her Uncle and try being God herself for a few minutes...
Hope everyone enjoys the pictures - and don't eat too much candy!

Resurfacing...

So today at lunchtime I plan on going over to the local Red Lobster to apply for a waitressing position. Just to supplement my income until I finish my book and get really really rich, of course. Funny thing is, my daily cell-phone horoscope said something along the lines of "somthing you thought had left your life resurfaces..." That made me kind of chuckle, since Red Lobster was a huge part of my life, oh, about 20 or so years ago. See, I worked there forever ago, and absolutely loved it. I was a cashier, which they phased out eons ago (shows how long it's been!), and didn't necessarily love the work, but I loved the people. Made a lot of friends back in the RL days - as a matter of fact, my best friend was my manager. Of course, she was my manager first, the best friend part came later. But I'm glad it did - she is awesome.

I don't really keep in touch with any of my old coworkers except for her and of course, my brother (yup, got him a job there too) but I think of them a lot. I wrote about Tandy a while ago, and there were lots of others I'd really like to know about. Back then, when I was young, thin, and pretty I had a lot of admirers at work too. One in particular that I dated for three whole months until his mother decided I wasn't good enough for her son (read: I wasn't Italian). Bottom line - it was fun going to work and flirting. And the women were fun, too - just so you don't think I was that sleazy girl who hated women - actually, a lot of us would hang out after work and have a few (or a lot of) drinks at the bowling alley down the street.

Anyway, now that I am an old lady with a daughter, I doubt I will be as crazy as I was back when I originally worked at Red Lobster, but I still think it will be fun. It takes a certain kind of person to deal with the restaurant biz, and those people are usually pretty cool. So I really hope I get this job. It'll be hard holding down a full-time and part-time job, I know, and I've already talked to Lexie about it, but I think in the long run it will be worth it. I'd really love to pay off some bills and just be able to breathe financially, you know? And waitressing is something I've enjoyed and was good at. So hopefully I'll be able to work a few shifts a week and bring home a few extra hundred a month and not kill myself in the process.

I guess I'll find out soon if Red Lobster is ready for dasi again...!

Magic Man

I don't know about any of you, but I LOVE magic. Which is why I absolutely had to share this little video from YouTube... Magic Man. If you don't laugh as loud or as long as I did, you definitely need to get professional help.

The Beginning of the End, Part 39

THE END. Just kidding! Proceed:

When I got back to the room, Kevin apparently was just finishing up with the packing. All the lights were on, and all the drawers were open. I stood in the doorway slack-jawed as I watched him coaxing Schmauser out from under the bed. He wrapped our little furball in a towel and passed him to me.

“Here,” he said. “Get in the car – I’ve already got it loaded up.”

And sure enough, he did. All of our worldly goods were crammed into the back seat – and I was assuming the trunk as well. I tried to protest, I wanted to double-check myself, but Kevin assured me he had cleaned the place out.

“Trust me, I got everything,” he emphasized. “The last thing I want to do is leave behind any clues about us or where we’re going.”

He jumped in the mustang and miraculously, it started with the first try. The tires screeched loudly in the night and Schmauser let out a wail of protest as Kevin backed out of the parking spot and threw the car into drive. With a lurch that sent me almost into the windshield, we headed out of the parking lot of our “home,” and toward another new beginning.

The questions were flying through my head faster than Kevin was driving – and that was pretty fast. Once I managed to catch my breath, I asked, “So where exactly are we going?”

Kevin pursed his lips. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I saw another motel just up the road. It’s not that far from the casino, but it’s far enough away from our old place. I was thinking we could try there.”

“And are you planning on telling me why we’re moving? And how you got out of jail? Who paid your bail, Kev?” I asked, unable to stand the not knowing.

“No one paid my bail,” he answered casually.

I almost choked and accidentally squeezed Schamuser a bit too tight causing an angry hiss to emerge from the towel. “Kev, you didn’t…” My mind filled with visions of metal files hidden in chocolate cakes, bedsheets tied together to make escape ropes, tunnels dug through the walls in the dead of night…

“No!” he laughed, glancing at me sideways. “I didn’t break out. I cut a deal. Which is why we had to move.”

I listened as he told me the whole story. The DA had decided there were bigger fish to fry, and was looking for willing bait. Kevin’s public defender, Dan, had recommended he work with the State in order to regain his freedom. Kevin gave the name of one of the top guys he had dealt with, and kept the name of his rival to himself. He had figured giving up Polon and saving Arturo may have more than one benefit in the long run. Dan and the DA worked out an elaborate scheme in which Kevin would call Polon to make a buy. They provided him with money for the buy and told him where to schedule the meet. Once the deal happened, the cops would pounce and everyone would be arrested, including Kevin. Of course, his arrest would only be for show, and once they got to the station he would be released and the charges against him dropped.

Kevin’s eyes shone as he told me how he made the call and was dropped off from an unmarked car about a mile from the meet. He walked to appointed spot, and waited. And waited. And waited. He told me he was afraid Polon wouldn’t show, and his deal would be tossed, but then he saw movement up ahead in the dark. It was a guy on a bike, heading straight for Kevin.

As it turned out, Polon had sent another guy to do the actual drop. But it was good enough for the cops. As soon as money changed hands, the area was flooded with light. Kevin and the dealer were cuffed and brought in. And then – Kevin was set free. As far as the DA was concerned, they were now one link higher on the food chain and Kevin was no longer needed.

The first thing Kevin did was call the cab. He had no money, but knew I would be working. After he left me, but before he went home, he stopped and made a phone call from a payphone: to Arturo. He had rightly suspected that Polon would find out almost immediately what had happened, and he wasn’t sure Polon would believe he wasn’t involved. He explained his situation to Arturo, and swore he would never give him up, that the cops had wanted his name as well, but that he wouldn’t crack. Arturo assured him that his people would watch out for Kevin and me, but he also warned him that Polon wouldn’t be so quick to let this go. It may have only been a messenger they caught, but the betrayal was something he wouldn’t forget.

My mind spun. So now, basically, we were on the run from a Mexican drug lord. I almost wanted to laugh. It seemed so surreal. Here I was, a nice, upper-middle class girl, fleeing in the middle of the night with my boyfriend and my cat from a drug lord who probably wanted to kill us. Well, kill Kevin, at least. I couldn’t help it. I did laugh. Which caused Kevin to look at me quizzically.

“You think this is funny?” he asked.

I looked at his profile as he drove and stopped laughing. Because it so obviously wasn’t funny at all. In fact, I could feel the fear crawling up my spine.

“No,” I said quietly. “You think he’s really gonna be looking for us?”

Kevin shrugged. “Hopefully not for long. And Dan said he’s going to have the detective check in with us every now and then, once we get settled.”

Great. A detective. That actually was a good thing, we would be safer with the police watching us…

“So we’ll have to be extra careful when we party,” he stressed.

The laughter bubbled up again. Why wasn’t I surprised? Kevin give up his partying? Come on! Just because he had been arrested, had just gotten out of jail, and would now have a detective staking out our place… I laughed harder.

Until the laughter turned to tears.

ALMOST The End of The Beginning of the End...

So, like, no one is going to go off the deep end if they don't find out how Kevin got out of jail immediately, right? Because I almost just typed and posted Chapter 39 which just said "The End" since I am a bit aggravated with life in general and basically a tad stressed as well...

I won't do that, though. Promise. But I can't guarantee when another chapter will be posted. All I can guarantee is that eventually I will get to it - and I will finish the whole shebang eventually as well. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

If it's any consolation, I am nearing the end. For real. Of the first book, at least...

To All My Homies

My unbelievably awesome cousin Tom made a very valid point last night while I was visiting with him and his family. He implied that this blog may not be achieving its full hit counter potential due to the fact that I am not reaching a certain demographic. To rectify this problem, I suggest you click here if you find yourself not fully understanding my writing. It should help immensely.

And? Feel free to use this tool to translate your blog or other web pages as well. Fo’shizzle.

Monkey Business

I knew a girl a while back – actually, she was a coworker of mine – who was really into animals. And I mean REALLY into them. As a matter of fact, animals were a side business to her. She owned quite a few, and knew the right people to contact to rent any animal you may need – say, an elephant for a circus photo shoot. As someone who has always loved animals, I thought this was the coolest. Still do, actually.

Anyway, I was thinking about her recently, because that animal dude brought a capuchin monkey on the Leno show the other night. And one of Ruth’s pets was a capuchin named George. George was AWESOME. George wore little tiny diapers, because Ruth explained he was basically just like a human baby – except he could climb and jump. And Lord knows you didn’t want any (ahem) accidents to happen as George was climbing and jumping around the house. George was free to roam around as he pleased, though, because he was very people friendly. A couple of us had gone over to her house to see her menagerie, and were greeted by this little guy almost instantly. But Ruth shooed him away to introduce us to the rest of her “family” first.

On the pretty ordinary side, she had several dogs and a ton of cats. (Ok, maybe not a ton, more like six.) Although two of the dogs had to stay outside, because they were trained guard Dobermans, and not very friendly. The other two were hilarious to watch – a HUGE Rottweiler and a tiny Boston Terrier, who loved to play tug-of-war. (Although I really think the Rott wasn’t trying that hard.) She also had cockatoos, cockatiels, parakeets, two macaws, and an African Grey parrot. Some of the birds were really talented talkers, and would mimic the other animals as well as the phone, the doorbell, and the alarm clock. Which was cool, but also kind of annoying in a way.

Downstairs she had even more (oh, did I mention this was all on her main floor?) tenants. Several snakes (pythons and boas), cages and cages of rats (some as pets – some as… well, you know…), an aviary with a couple dozen doves (apparently big for weddings), chinchillas, tortoises, a spider monkey, and the most adorable silver fox. The fox was on loan for a photo shoot and was lounging in a cage on the floor, and Ruth warned me not to get too close. “You know that saying, ‘sly as a fox?’ There’s a reason for it. Any time a wild animal is trapped in a cage like that, they feel threatened and will do anything to escape. So DON’T go thinking he’s tame.”

Yeah, whatever. Ruth started talking to another of our friends and I made my move. The little guy was sooooo cute! And had these sad eyes and just was looking at me so sweetly, so how could I NOT slowly approach the cage… as he watched me with hopeful little silver fox eyes… as I crouched down and he inched his nose closer to the bars… Just as I started to put my hand out, that sweet, adorable little creature turned into a snarling, frothing, mass of teeth and fur. I almost lost my balance (and my fingers) pulling my hand back and straightening up as if nothing had happened.

“You tried to pet the fox, didn’t you?” Ruth said with exasperation.

“NO!” I said with what I hoped was a tone insinuating that I would NEVER try such a stupid thing.

(And believe me, I NEVER will again!)

I asked to use the bathroom while they finished their conversation, and Ruth directed me back upstairs. She said they would just meet me back up there. So I went in the bathroom and as I prepared to sit, I froze mid squat. In the bathtub across from the toilet was a seemingly docile yet quite large reptile with pretty darn big teeth. I pulled up my pants and decided that I had better check with my hostess about this.

“Ruth?” I called hesitantly. “In the bathtub…”

“Oh, that’s just Elvis. He won’t bother you.”

Just Elvis. Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go, so I did my business with a five foot Cayman alligator looking on. And smiling, I think. I don’t think I’ve ever peed that fast in my life. Very unnerving, peeing in front of a dangerous uncaged alligator. Afterwards, Ruth carried him back to his cage, and told me to pet him. When I tried, he let out a strange hissing noise. “Oh, maybe you’d better not, he seems a little agitated,” Ruth decided. Yeah, fine with me.

After visiting with all the other animals, it was time to hang out and visit with each other. And George. George was like a petulant child, upset that we had left him alone. He jumped around from person to person, screeching and basically making a scene. Ruth reprimanded him, and eventually he calmed down and started visiting with us individually. He was the funniest little creature I had ever seen. And smart. Ruth had told us that it was ok to give him some snacks and let him drink our drinks (nonalcoholic – don’t worry!), and that he was partial to Pepsi over Coke, which was why we all had Pepsi. I was eating some cheese popcorn when George came over and jumped on my lap. He sat there watching me eat, and finally, I handed him a piece. He looked at it, and then at me, like “that’s IT?” So I handed him another. And another. This continued until his first little hand was full. So I held out another piece. George quickly stuck out his other hand, and I proceeded to fill that one as well. When both hands were filled, I held out another piece with a chuckle. I knew George would want it, and I wondered how he would solve this dilemma. He looked at me, looked at the popcorn, then looked at his hands. He maneuvered closer to me, then put both hands together by his chin so I could balance the final piece on top. Problem solved.

George continued to work the room, randomly taking people’s drinks and sipping from them (he never backwashed – I watched) and eating snacks. One of the guys, Steve, wasn’t keen on a monkey drinking from his glass, so when George came over, he covered it and said, “NO!” George seemed insulted. He backed away, screeching, as Steve repeated “No!” and stared him down. George gave him one last screech, then hopped away. He took a drink from my glass, grabbed a handful of cheese popcorn from the bowl and proceeded to race over and dump the whole handful into Steve’s glass. He sure showed Steve! As we were laughing, he came over to me, and started reaching toward my face. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, until he started putting his hand by my mouth. He wanted me to open my mouth. So I did, and George placed a piece of cheese popcorn in my mouth and sat back with (I kid you not) a smile on his face. Apparently this was my “thank you” for sharing earlier.

Ruth’s house was the best. And I miss her and George. And the rest of the animals, even the scary alligator and the mean fox. I wish I knew where she was nowadays, Lexie would so love it there. But in the meantime, I can always see George on You Tube – did I mention he is a famous music video monkey? Well, he is. Although he’s probably retired by now – and eating all the cheese popcorn he can handle.

I'm OK - Really!

Why is it that whenever I am stressed, depressed and generally not exactly Little Miss Sunshine everyone gets so “worried” about me? Is it because I was a junkie over ten years ago and they think maybe I’ll wind up heading out to the west side? Or is it because as a stupid teenager I thought swallowing a few bottles of Tylenol would solve my problems and they think I’ll try that again? Or maybe because they think I’m really incapable of managing my own life – let alone my life and my daughter’s?

Whatever the reason – I’d like it to STOP. I appreciate people’s concern, and even sometimes actively seek out sympathy and ego-boosting words. But I have no intention of offing myself, turning back to drugs, or beating my child. Sure, life can suck sometimes, but if it didn’t it would be unnatural. Nothing is ever perfect – least of all me. Sure I am an expert at putting on the “happy face” and convincing everyone of just how “fine” I am… maybe that is the problem. Maybe I am too good at convincing people that life is all peaches and cream and I am exactly where I want to be.

Maybe I need to start being a bit more real.

Ok, people, here goes. The bottom line is that I am happy – to a degree. I have a lot more in my life now than I ever thought I would have after my “dark years.” But I also know I fucked up a lot and am now paying the price. I didn’t exactly follow the rules for a long time, and my little life plan didn’t pan out the way I would’ve liked. But I have a home, and a beautiful daughter (who admittedly has been giving me more grief than usual lately – but that comes with the age…), and a job (one I hate, true, but at least I have an income that is actually higher than I could’ve hoped for without a college degree), and friends (both cyber and “real life”), and a wonderful family who always supports me. Those are the good things.

Ok, I’m going to be honest with you all now, in the hopes that maybe you will realize I am human, and not a robot, and that it is ok for me to not always be “up.” I would give anything to have a man in my life. Not just any man, but a wonderful, loving, caring man that puts me and Lexie first and who loves me for me – imperfections and all. Sure, I brag about “not needing a man” and about “loving my independence,” but the reality is that I feel gypped. I look around at all the married couples and I know they have their problems and issues, but they have each other. And GOD I wish I had someone to lean on sometimes. I wish I had someone to share my life with and snuggle next to in bed and bitch at for the toilet seat and complain to my girlfriends about. I AM LONELY. And I am so tired of shouldering all the responsibility and all the stress and all the EVERYTHING. And yet as ridiculous as it sounds, I know I am just too damn jaded to ever get close enough to someone to make that dream a reality.

Secondly, I really want to believe that good things will happen, but I am having a really hard time doing that. Like with my book. I reread it and think “This is crap. This needs a total overhaul – and I just don’t feel it right now.” Millions of people write – as instanced on the internet. Thousands, maybe TENS of thousands have real talent. So what could possibly make my work stand out enough to make the right people take notice? I appreciate all the support and encouragement of my cyberpals, but do any of you really think I will find that uber-publisher and my life could change dramatically – for the better? Pretty much a needle in a haystack chance. I mean, I’m trying to find an agent, don’t get me wrong, but I really can’t afford to get my hopes up too high. It’s too easy for me to imagine finally getting a break and paying off all my bills and quitting my day job and buying a real house and traveling – oh God, I would love to even take a one-week vacation… I need to be realistic, though.

So yes, I am not exactly thrilled with my life at this point. It may get better, it may get worse. Couldn’t tell you. Maybe things will start turning around – or maybe they won’t. In any case, I will survive, I always do. And as much as I appreciate people’s concern, please understand that sometimes I just have to let myself cry. Or scream. Or isolate. Or even write – which obviously is my biggest catharsis. It’s when I seem TOO happy or TOO “on” that you need to start to worry, ok?

And please? Since my mom doesn’t read my blog will someone PLEASE tell her this too???????