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[07 Dec 2005|09:58pm] |
My first semester of college is almost over, and that... is amazing.
I finished my American Lit paper last night.
And I'm so glad that I go to GB instead of high school.
And I love my dreadlocks.
Also, I love reading. And I love my job. And I love the people at my job, because they treat me like a friend.
I also love my little mouse Glen, and wish I could give him a bigger cage.
And I love my new car.
And the color of my eyeballs. (The blue part, not the white).
And the smell of dead leaves, snow, cold, and my Dr. Bronner's Magical Soap shampoo.
And I also love seeing the stars as clear as I can here instead of our old house.
I also love gum.
And puppies.
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| ... |
[26 Nov 2005|11:45am] |
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Hello.
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[15 Oct 2005|10:34am] |
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mood |
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lethargic. |
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music |
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That sweet lawnmower somewhere in my neighborhood. |
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Well, apparently none of us were children. Or we've all suddenly become tremendously overwhelmed with an incurable bout of amnesia.
Except for Johanna.
That's...
That's a bit weird.
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[13 Oct 2005|10:05am] |
You know, I've been thinking about things. And it's funny that we all know each other personally, but we've never known what most of us were like when we were little.
Why doesn't everyone make an entry listing their favorite childhood memories? (Dangit! I couldn't escape the cliché!) I have to go to work now, so I'll do my list a little later. I think it should be interesting.
Do it!
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[11 Oct 2005|03:00pm] |
"Two elderly men engage in duel using weapons of choice: rider lawn mowers"
HOMOSASSA - Ralph L. Padgett told deputies he's had his differences with David Ervin before.
But he says he climbed aboard his red Snapper lawn mower Friday night to ride out to his mailbox, not to ram Ervin's lawn mower or to knock him off the mower.
A deputy says the latter is exactly what happened in the street in front of Padgett's home that night.
Padgett, 73, was arrested at 9:49 p.m. on charges of aggravated battery with a deadly weapon and criminal mischief between $200 to $1,000, according to a Citrus County Sheriff's Office report.
Ervin of 6858 W Hans Court told deputies he was mowing along S Bob White Drive, when he saw Padgett driving toward him on a mower. The impact sent Ervin flying off the mower. He told deputies he hit his head and injured his left arm and elbow.
A deputy who interviewed Ervin noticed his elbow was bleeding and his clothing and hair were dusted with grass clippings, according to the report.
Ervin told deputies that he stood up and began to walk toward his house, but he noticed Padgett dragging away his, Ervin's, mower. Ervin grabbed the mower and called the Sheriff's Office.
Padgett told a deputy he thought Ervin was going to hit him. He said he "was not going to allow him to hit me, so I got him," according to the report. He was taken to the Citrus County jail, where bail was set at $5,500.
------
Agha...ah...agh...oh god, I can't breathe...
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[09 Oct 2005|11:13am] |
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mood |
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You're a mood! |
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music |
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You're a music. |
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I am quite possibly going to Ecuador this December/ January with UWGB.
And my brother also called yesterday from Japan, and he's going on a boat to the Philippines. He couldn't tell us when he was actually going, because the military keeps it secret. He also asked me to convey his "dismay" at Mom and Dad's decision to get rid of Louie. (He was very angry.)
And also, I move on the 21st, to a house located PAST UWGB, and when I say "past," I mean a good five-plus miles. But it's peaceful and beautiful and there's fields that I can walk in. One of our neighbors is kind of weird, though. But it's only an extra ten minutes in the car. And I'm quite convinced that aliens invaded my parents' brains, because they bought a huge flat screen TV.
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| Oh wow. |
[03 Oct 2005|03:48pm] |
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mood |
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Creeped Out |
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music |
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The Twilight Zone Theme Song |
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Well. Apparently my other manager is a sexual pervert.
I've long suspected the fact that he's.... flirtatious, to say the least, but yesterday took the proverbial pervert cake.
I'm used to him standing next to me at the host station, which is of course located at the door of the restaurant, so it's naturally the gathering place for servers and managers when it slows down. I'm also used to comments like, "...There's a lot of hot girls tonight," and things of that sort-- and not to digress, but there's of course the instance where he grabbed my special pen to jot something down when he was on the phone, and I, of course, joked, "What are you going to give me for that?" The creepiness progressed like so:
Me: "What are you going to give me?" (completely joking. COMPLETELY JOKING.)
Manager Matt: "I don't know. ...What do you want? What do you need most of all?"
Me: "Ummm, er... uh..... I... don't... know..."
Manager Matt: "Well, you think about it, and let me know." (Creepy moment) ::Reaches out and puts his hand over mine. Except not a pat-- a hand-grab pat.
And I was hosting at about 7:30 yesterday, when the aforementioned pervy Manager came over and informed me that his parents would be coming to Titletown to eat that night, so I should seat them in a booth in the Ticket Office. So, they came, I seated them, pleasantries were exchanged, we downed a few bottles of wine, and smoked a few cuban cigars (I'm obviously joking), and about an hour later, they left, and his father waved goodbye to me. A little while after that, Matt came downstairs and stood next to me, and I said, "Your dad's a nice guy." And he said, "Why, did he say you'd make a great daughter-in-law?"
I was like, "Um...no. ..No, he didn't." ((WHAT THE HECK?!))
And then he's like, "Did he say, 'Who's that fiery redhead by the door?'"
I didn't even know what to say. Except, "...Er........uh.....er............ No."
I couldn't believe it. He is my MANAGER. He is 28 years old. He is my MANAGER.
AND THEN later that night, he was talking to a server about a girl they obviously both knew, and again, he was standing right next to me, and he said, "I heard she got hot." The other guy was like, "Yeah, I guess she lost some weight." And my manager's like, "I heard she gives good blowjobs."
And as soon as he said it, he burst out laughing and slapped me on the back.
It was disgusting.
I liked him a lot before I knew he was so creepy. I really did.
And, the thing is-- he's not some eighty year old, one-legged ogre. He's just a regular guy.
Oh man. That's so horribly disconcerting.
Oh man.
I feel like a.... prostitute. UGH.
UGH
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[28 Sep 2005|08:30pm] |
My most precious friend in the entire world,
whom my mother and father gave away two weeks ago.
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| AGHA |
[23 Sep 2005|05:06pm] |
"'Wheelchair Man's Alleged Robbery Foiled"
A disabled man has been foiled in his attempts to make a speedy getaway from the scene of his alleged crime. The man was spotted leaving a South Auckland branch of Countdown in a wheelchair, loaded up with a basketful of groceries. Witness Greg Stratton was stacking shelves in the supermarket when he saw the man race out of the store. He says staff ran after the man, who sped off down the street. He says the man sped close to a kilometre up the street, before coming back past the supermarket to a car full of people waiting for him. He says the man was only apprehended when he fell from his wheelchair."
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| = Procrastination. |
[20 Sep 2005|09:13pm] |
Lydia Wright
Intro American Lit.
September 20th, 2005
Bradstreet’s gender influences her attitudes toward art and politics in the sense that her poetry exudes an air of defiance-- not one of aggression or even of stark negativity, but one that connotates the frustration and sexual discrimination felt undoubtedly by all Puritan women newly settled in the New World. “I am obnoxious to each carping tongue / Who says my hand a needle better fits, / A poet’s pen all scorn I should thus wrong, / For such despite they cast on female wits: / If what I do prove well, it won’t advance, / They’ll say it’s stol’n, or else it was by chance.” (239) As a woman in Puritan New England, a sense of frustration influences her writings as well as different tones of reflection, contemplation, and an overall philosophical musing-- something that perhaps significantly contributes to her political views as she is able to separate herself from the harsh bureaucracy, rigid theology, and stern lawful and civic administrations of the Puritan men. In essence, Bradstreet views life from a different point on the same Puritanical spectrum-- a point from which “...the wondrous works... the vast frame of the heaven and the earth, the order of all things, night and day, summer and winter, spring and autumn, the daily providing for this great household upon the earth, the preserving and directing of all to its proper end...” are somehow clearer against the backdrop of the “barren dunes of Cape Cod.” (238)
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[18 Sep 2005|10:52pm] |
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mood |
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Titletownified. |
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music |
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keyboard clacking. |
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My manager Nick asked me if I wanted ice cream tonight.
So he made us both two little dishes and we sat at a cocktail table and agreed upon the fact that we both don't like my psychology professor. ((He went to GB.))
It was nice of him to do that.
I like working there.
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[15 Sep 2005|11:05pm] |
Lydia Wright
Intro to American Lit.
September 15th, 2005
John Winthrop’s Massachusetts Bay colony most recognizably embodies the “American Spirit” in the sense that capitalism-- or at least the spirit of capitalism-- seems to have roots at the very foundation of our society. This concept is suggested by the very title of Chapter XXIII, “Prosperity Brings Dispersal of Population. “ “...By which means corn and cattle rose to a great price, by which many were much enriched and commodities grew plentiful. And yet in other regards this benefit turned to their hurt... For now as their stocks increased and the increase vendible, there was no longer any holding them together, but now they must of necessity go to their great lots.” (183) In the same sense, Massachusetts Bay-- given the above statement and turbulence between the colonies and Native Americans-- witnesses a gradual dissolution of unity quite similar to our present economic situation, validating a rather accurate extrapolation of America’s current division of cultural views and national interests.
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[10 Sep 2005|06:11pm] |
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mood |
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----------- |
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music |
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Branded: The Buying and Selling of Teenagers
"...In this chilling and thought-provoking exposé, Alissa Quart takes us on a tour of the unsettling new reality of marketing to teenagers, introducing us to the disturbingly savvy advertisers who have targeted younger and younger minds and wallets."
I'm going to have nightmares...
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[08 Sep 2005|07:23pm] |
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mood |
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Johnny Cash-ish |
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music |
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Johnny Cash |
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Sweet.
I changed my myspace name, and now when I sign in, it says,
"Hello, Apparently I'm Not Retarded Enough For A Cool Name!"
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| Disorientationism |
[06 Sep 2005|10:17pm] |
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mood |
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disorientationismed |
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music |
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Led ZEPPELIN!!! |
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Classes start tomorrow. [Wednesday]
And last night after work, I was sitting at a cocktail table and talking with one of the waiters named Eric, who is 25 [he told me to guess and I guessed RIGHT!!] about college, because he went to GB and everything, and he saw me reading my sociology book. And then I left because Jacob picked me up and we roasted smores over a fire and ate them and chased each other in the dark in his backyard and laid on the grass outside on the blanket where I saw a shooting star. But then, for some reason, I had a dream that Eric and I were both detectives with detective hats, and I was wearing light blue polyestor pants. He was the head detective, though. And then another part of the dream included my boss Mike chasing me through some obscure parking lot.
And at the end of the dream, Eric and I, finished with our detective work....?... somehow found ourselves in a bar-type restaurant with all of the other Titletown employees, musing over the fact that the powers-that-be NEVER play Led Zeppelin, and they really ought to.
I honestly cannot explain the blue polyestor pants.
That's sort of...troubling.
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[03 Sep 2005|12:50am] |
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mood |
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1:29 AM-ish |
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music |
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tick tock tick tock |
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"_____ ______" has officially registered for the classes about to be posted after the person typing this stops typing it and starts typing the class part:
1) Intro to American Lit
2) Sociology
3) Psychology
4) Super Duper Advanced Stick Figure Drawing
Class from 10 am until 2 pm, Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
I have purchased the aforementioned, subject-appropriate textbooks, and I'm having a hard time not reading them entirely before school even begins. I've even got a super neat UWGB I.D. card, complete with some picky/pokey/whatever points on them, so I can buy coffee or books or anything with it. I'm going to ask my professors for permission to record their lectures so I can play them back when I'm studying. And I'll most likely spend my free time reading/studying in the coffee house on campus.
I start Tuesday.
And I was reading my Sociology book at work when I was done tonight, and I almost spilled my special-requested diet Sierra Mist kiddie cocktail all over it.
=(
But I didn't.
However-- I did draw a caricature of my manager/boss Mike ((possibly co-owner of the entire restaurant)) that included a stick figure with a tie, glasses, a few stubbly hairs, angry eyebrows and sharp teeth yelling, "AAAR!! GRAWR!! ME TIP OVER LYDIA'S PENS!!!" I've taken to obsessively cleaning and arranging the hostess desk, and so he has also taken to obsessively tipping over the entire cup of pens and pencils and highlighters onto the entire hostess desk surface, ALSO erasing my DOTS, thus, COMPLETELY eradicating my entire map of the restaurant and sense of order pertaining to whose table is whose and what's what. And then I walked over to the bulletin board near the kitchen and posted it, and my other manager started laughing really hard.
Then, towards the end of the night, I drew "Aquatic Mike": a stick figure with glasses, a few stubbly hairs, angry eyebrows, sharp teeth, a snorkel, flippers, and floaties, yelling, "GRAAAR! I EAT CHILDREN!!"
And then I walked over and posted it right next to the other one.
And I also always get to do the specials board that lists the lunch and dinner specials, so tonight, since the soup of the day was clam chowder, I drew a little soup bowl with steam coming off of it, and a happy little clam saying, "YUM!"
Next time when there's filet mignon or something, I think I'm going to draw a big, bloody cow with a huge knife in its gut.
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| Day One: |
[26 Aug 2005|11:55pm] |
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mood |
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blurgle |
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music |
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computer hum. |
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A big gross man came into work today. I was writing the lunch special on the chalkboard, because that's one of the first things I do in the morning, as well as checking the bathrooms, which is my FAVORITE! ((Someone told me they found a salad in the toilet once. Not a consumed-and-vomited-up salad, but... a salad. In the toilet.)) Well, I did have to replace a roll of toilet paper in the Ladies' Restroom, so I retrieved a fresh roll and somehow ended up wandering back into the dining hall carrying around this huge roll of toilet paper. Luckily we weren't quite open yet... except for that huge group of Green Bay Public School teachers in the private Frost room.
Onward: As I was sweating profusely in an effort to scrape the crappy colored sidewalk chalk on the crappy chalkboard and make it look somewhat presentable, (("Fresh Canadian Lake Perch Sandwich..." blagh)), this big, bald guy came in with a tight black shirt and a huge gold earring, except he was chubby and slightly dumbo-ish, so he actually didn't look that tough. He's like, "Are you guys open?"
I'm like: "Uh, yes. I think we are." ((I wasn't quite sure if it was eleven yet.)) And he said, "I just wanna sit at the bar..."
So he sat at the bar... FOR FOUR AND A HALF HOURS! He left the same time my shift was over. But sadly, that isn't the purpose of this entry.
While attending my hostess position, Mr. Dumbo Man walked past me really slow and I heard him say something to me, and it sounded....dirty... and I said, "What?" Then he failed at an attempted seductive wink and slightly slurred, "....just playin'."
And then about three other times during the day, he tried to do the same thing-- walk really slowly past me, but each time there were people there, so he couldn't wreak his creepiness on me OR the other female employees. He whistled at Laura B., too. =(
My manager, Nick, stood with me quite often today since it was my first actual day of work-- not training. So I asked him to beat that guy up, and better yet-- if they kept any tasers around the place, but he said they didn't. And then I found a watermelon lipsmacker lipgloss in a drawer, and told him to stop leaving his crap everywhere. And then I found a red liquid lipstick, and I'm like, "Nick? Is this yours too?
He's like: "It's not my color."
And then the police came, two plainclothes detectives, but they walked in, and, as a hostess, I said, "Hi...blah blah blah." And then I was blinded by a superfulously shiny Green Bay Police Department detective badge. Apparently one of the past employees is wanted for questioning about a "suspicious fire...." I pretended that I wasn't a new employee at Titletown, so I could stand with the other servers as these nice policemen inquired about this girl and her dubious whereabouts...
And then these people wanted a Titletown shirt, but I dropped the keys while I was trying to open the drawer, and I was like, "DANGIT!
I work a lot next week. Please come in and I'll do my best to see if I can get you free ice cubes.
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[22 Aug 2005|07:31pm] |
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mood |
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yay! |
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music |
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AC/DC cell phone commercial...oddly enough. |
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I am now officially employed by Titletown Brewery of Green Bay, Wisconsin.
Job training tomorrow.
Come visit me soon!
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[18 Aug 2005|05:08pm] |
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mood |
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gurgle |
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music |
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Pearl Harbor documentary |
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Update: Incredibly... I am now irrevocably going to UWGB, who has miraculously overturned their asinine decision. I = elated. Especially knowing now that St. Norbert would pick my classes for me ((none of which I have any interest in at this time)) and a 3.5 grade point average would be required at all times-- not to mention that I would have to attend the entire year. Thank you, but no thank you. ::!@#$%::
My mom was telling me how GB changed their mind and how Mrs. Slater was on the phone all day yesterday.
"And apparently Mr. Mineau read them the riot act."
"Does that mean he got very angry?"
"Yes."
And I also have an interview at Titletown tomorrow.
Sincerely,
Lydia
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[17 Aug 2005|01:50pm] |
UPDATE: I'm now going to St. Norbert
♥!
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