I Is Getting Me A College Edumacation

That's right! After a 13 year hiatus I have re-enrolled at Heald. Now I know it's not the most prestigious college but Hey! I am finishing my accounting degree. I am in my second quarter and with 4 classes, my job, and the kids I have NO spare time to even breath. It's all cool though. Going back to school is what I had to do. I'm sick of bartending and I know numbers! Numbers work for me. Now accounting is far from my dream job and kinda makes me go uhh. But regardless, It's a career that will get me out from behind that bar and back with my family. Plus reading Forbes, accounting is estimated to be one of the top 5 jobs in 2013. Eventually I'll go to school for my history degree which is the idea that gives me "happy chills". So since I have an online english class the probability of me posting more blogs is highly possible. So until then......

Ahhhh....I'm Back!

I got all caught up in other websites and totally forgot about this one. It sucks because I really enjoyed thinking about and writing my blogs. So I'm back. I don't know what I will write about at the moment but as soon as something comes into this dense head of mine...It'll get put on here. Okay...I must go and finish my house cleaning before the Geek Squad Dude comes to fix the TV for the second time. He must not be a very good geek.

I see pieces of my dad in every man I meet

My dad was taken too early from us five years ago this August. While I think I've dealt with his passing as well as I possibly can, he is always in the back of my mind. I don't think he'll ever leave there nor do I want him to. I do wish we had more time together but we did get 25 years...which is more than some people get. When Dad died...I cried, I screamed, and I hit inanimate objects-mainly my walls. I wanted nothing but to have Dad back. We got through his funeral. I acted as the strong one holding up my mom and my sisters but inside I was screaming "Not my Daddy! Please let this all be a horrible nightmare!" A nightmare it was but instead of a bad dream where you wake up sweaty and shaking, this was real life. I was pissed off at the world and even more pissed at the guy who hit him and left him for dead in the ditch. "You fucker! You can't say you didn't see him! Why couldn't you have grown the balls to turn yourself in? I hope you live everyday seeing his face. I plastered it on posters, on the news, and in the papers for you to see." If I could have gotten my hands on that guy I know I'd be sitting in a prison cell for murder. I would have killed him with my bare hands.

Fortunately I've gotten over my murderous instincts. While I don't know if I can ever find it in me to forgive my Dad's killer...I know that if I did find him I wouldn't inflict bodily harm. I think that's saying alot.

I started thinking of this post the other day. I had a customer who walked into the bar and just for a moment I saw my dad. This guy had a walk very similar to my Dad's lazy gait. I was instantly taken back to my childhood and saw my childhood home. I saw my dad walking around our house in his holey t-shirts and worn out jeans with the bulging pockets because he carried every damn key known to mankind. His wallet chain and the 20 pounds of metal in his pockets from keys to change jingled with every step he took.
Then there was the man who in his talking said certain key phrases that my dad used to say. My husband will do this sometimes without even knowing it. I often wonder if he does it because he heard my dad say it or what.

Today I saw something that prompted me to write about this. I took Courtney to Carls Jr for lunch. I was running errands and needed a quick meal before I had to finish and go to work. We sat at a booth for two and proceeded to devour our food. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man who was painstakingly trying to get the last bit of guacamole out of a little plastic cup with a fork. I glanced over at him and saw that he had already emptied one cup and was trying to finish the second. His deep fried burrito was glopped full of sour cream, salsa, and guacamole. I almost let out a laugh as the memories of my dad came flooding back. Dad used to do the same thing! As I watched this guy (and tried hard to make it look like I wasn't) he scraped the inside of the little cup with his fork and then would lick his utensil. He was so focused on getting every last drop out of that damn plastic cup that you could have dropped a bomb next to him and he wouldn't have even noticed. All I thought is that Dad used to embarrass the crap outta me by doing that. Then I got all teary eyed and had to look down hoping nobody saw the tears running down my cheeks. Courtney, thankfully, was oblivious to her crying momma and was more concerned with how much BBQ sauce she could get on one chicken star. We left as soon as she finished.

I love how I can pick out traits my dad had in almost every man I come across. I wish I could bottle it up and keep it forever because I know there will come a day when I forget. I'll forget his walk. I'll forget the sound of his voice. I'll forget his smell.

So keep it coming guys of the world. I don't want to forget my daddy!

Ode to my neighbors

Neighbors, Neighbors Quite the site
Hear you yell, Hear you fight
See you through your window light
Wish you would hush for the night

Neighbors, Neighbors I wish you might
Please Shut up until daylight!

What doesn't kill you makes you go insane

The thing that makes me insane is just a three letter word...job. Mine to be exact. If it doesn't kill me first.

Wine Makes It All Go Away

I wish I was this amazing writer who could captivate my audience with just my words. Sorry to say I only have a mediocre writing style. I have noticed though that my drunken rampages on the computer end up much better than my sober blogging. (Note to self...must drink more before opening laptop!) But isn't that how most great writers are? Hemingway was a faboulous...drunk...I mean...author. He somehow managed to write many great works drunk off his ass. The only thing I can figure is that by drinking you allow your mind to open to this secret room in the creative consciousness in the realm of this world. Or you just don't give a fuck what you're writing. Either way it usually comes out comprehendable and better than if you wrote it sober. I do know that when I write sober I end up second guessing myself and deleting the last paragraph I wrote. And then the one before that. And the one before that. Next thing I know I'm staring at a blank screen. But when I do my inebriated blogging....well I get as close to a masterpiece as I'm probably ever going to get.

So here's to drunk blogging. It's nothing like drunk emailing. Now that can be embarrassing!

How not to become the next bar patron asshat

If you've ever walked into a bar you know the type of person I'm talking about. The annoying asshat in the bar who makes everyone roll their eyes and gets the worse service possible in the world. The following is to help you make sure you are not that person.



Enter the bar in a normal fashion. Please don't be a diva or a total ass. We don't need an announcement that you've entered. Do not make a huge scene when you enter the premises. Only Norm on Cheers is announced. You are just a regular human patron just like everybody else. Your friends will greet you and if you are a regular, so will the bartender.



Wait your turn at the bar. I can guarantee that the bartender saw you walk up. Do not wave your money or your hands at the bartender like you are trying to shoo away flies...unless you really are trying to. We see you and as soon as we have serviced the people before you, we will get to you. Do not shout your drink order as soon as we look at you. We are just acknowledging that we see you and will be with you shortly. You will know that we are ready for your order when we ask for it. Also along with the first rule, do not shout your order to us when you enter from the other side of the room. Be normal and walk up to the bar like everybody else. We will ignore those who ignore our rules.



When said bartender finally asks for your order...be ready. We are busy and don't have time to wait for your indecisiveness. If you tell us to hold on...we'll tell you to hold on. We'll get back to you when you can finally make up your mind. That said...have ALL drink orders ready when we ask. Don't tell us each drink one at a time unless we tell you too and do not tell us your order only to turn around to your friends and ask what they want. I have other patrons in the bar ready with their order and I'll get to them if you're not ready.



Know what you drink. I'm glad you had a drink you loved on your last trip to Vegas. That bar sounds awesome but unless you know what was in that drink that bartender made you, I cannot duplicate it. I'm not a mind reader and I'm busy. Just because you said it was red and tasted great means nothing to me. Do you even realize how many great tasting red drinks I know? Know your poison! If you don't know whats in your drink you probably shouldn't be drinking it.



Tip, Tip, Tip. And I don't mean tell me to use an umbrella tomorrow. Tips are our wage. We provided a service. You provide the cash.

Don't ask for free shit. I made your drink with the correct amount of alcohol. If you want more, I will be glad to pour another shot but I will charge you for it and don't argue with me about it. I don't make money giving drinks away. That said...I don't care if your buddy gave you a free beer here last night. He's not me and what he does is his business. I have a family to provide for and can't afford to buy you a beer. That's why I'm working. If I didn't need the money, I'd be on the other side of this 3 foot slab of Mahogany with you. The only free thing I'll give you is water and that bowl of peanuts. Enjoy!

Know your limits. I understand you're having a good time but your drunken obnoxiousness is not amusing to me...unless you fall and smash your head into the floor. I'll be laughing my ass off then. And I don't enjoy cleaning your puke. Or waking your passed out ass up at closing time. Or fielding your phone calls about your lost shoe. I don't know where you tossed it. Oh and if you are too blitzed to drive...I will be taking possession of your car keys. You can have them back when you are sober.

I'm sure I'm leaving something out but at least you have an idea. Go to your favorite bar and have fun. Just remember Nobody Likes An Asshat!