twilight tournament

feeling that ‘i’m so hungover’ feeling, except it’s not from drinking too much alcohol but from sleep deprivation. that’s because my three volleyball amigos and myself got back this morning from a 24-hour excursion to maryland and back. the state was host to a co-ed indoor volleyball tournament that we were just itching to attend. however, i think we all over-estimated our body’s ability to last the duration of the trip because when we rolled back into town this morning we looked like the four runts of a puppy litter (if there was such a thing). eight hours of playing nudged between two 5-hr plus lengths of driving is not a typical saturday for us—or anyone in their right minds for that matter.

but we are young. we are energetic. and when it comes down to it we would rather make the trek from maryland back to north carolina at 4 a.m. then spend the money on a hotel room instead. cheap? crazy? probably so, but if we hadn’t hit the pavement like we did we may have never found out that that 5-hour energy drink does not work. and that ruby tuesday is THE place to be on a saturday night in maryland. all in all it was a good experience and we shared a bunch of laughs as we always do. my parents think us kids are insane but i can deal with that. i don’t think mom and dad realize though that this friday the gang is taking it up a notch by driving to southern florida to compete in a beach tournament on saturday. oh, and did i mention we will be doing this again the following weekend? we’ll see how this one settles in with the rents.

signing off for now…i’ll try and sneak in a few words between my lunch and dinner shifts tomorrow.

must love earmarking

made a list of all my expenses i will have to cover in the coming month. this includes everything i know i will be spending money on, like paying off my new computer, competing in florida for two back-two-back weekends, and other necessary costs. all other continuous yet “minor” expenses (gas, miscellaneous food and drinks) are left off the list so that i can just focus on the big boys. my aim is to be able to cover all the big boys a month in advance using just the money i make from waitressing. i’m trying not to dip my hands into the bank here, which i think is a pretty attainable goal if i continue to meet my weekly tip average. and, if i can cover the big expenses, my reasoning follows that i can afford to indulge in some of the smaller expenses, like six-packs of blue moon and taking the occasional lap inside anthropologie. gee, being fiscally responsible is fun.

i have to admit, i do enjoy taking cash home at the end of every shift (even though that was a measly eight dollars this afternoon). having something tangible to show for my work is refreshing. tallying up my earnings and stuffing those bills in an envelope is my favorite part of the day. and i’ve just expanded my envelope repertoire from one to...

what can i say, i love to earmark! i’m embarrassed to admit it rivals the pleasure i get from grocery shopping. (am i still dateable at this point?)

sunshine is cheaper than maryjane

not even the fact that i made $13 dollars at work today can bring me down. not today. that's because i'm still riding the natural high i received from playing beach volleyball over the weekend. being able to spend a whole saturday outside and among my friends was like coming home. the "beat-box" was blaring techno music, men were swearing at one another over controversial plays, and, per usual, those players refereeing the final matches of the day were doing so with beer in hand. i have never been so happy to wake up the following morning with a sunburn.

this past weekend was exactly what i needed to keep my head up as i continue to endure one of the coldest winters that north carolina has ever experienced. more importantly, it was what i needed to get through the tensions at home. did i ever mention that there are now two boomerangers living under the same roof? that's right. my brother has moved back home for a few months while he settles into his new job. since our elder sister was the first to move back home after college years ago, i guess that makes my brother the second-generation boomeranger and me the third-generation boomeranger. needless to say, adding one more person to the mix makes everything a little more...congested (last family member to enter the living room is ousted from sitting on the couch)...bittersweet (now there are two baby birds tweeting for attention in this nest)...aggravating (i could hear every word uttered by my brother and his friend last saturday night as they recited passages from the pickup artist to prepare themselves for a night of drinking and hitting on girls of course).

it was hard enough trying to sustain a healthy, happy household when it was just my parents and myself. we had our good times but also had a good deal of heated tension. the addition of my brother is basically adding fuel to an already blazing fire. this should not be misconstrued to make my brother come across in an unfavorable way...it's just that adding one more body to an already strenuous mix of age and personality creates a whole new set of complications. his presence is not without a few delights, however. i do enjoy the sideways glances my brother and i exchange as our parents dissect our behavior (apparently there is hair in my shower drain and his toilet seat is up).

as you can see, i really needed some sunshine to break through the clouds...both literally and figuratively...which i received this past weekend. it has gotten me through my $13 dollar payday, and it is currently getting me through the fact that my brother is usurping the remote while wearing his tar-heel snuggie.

"mac daddy" sounds so much better than "mac mommy"

i love my new mac.

no poetic, eloquent prose needed.

i love my new mac.

now i am finally free to tuck my computer under my arm and bring her anywhere--without the constant dependency on the always-present extension cord. the bitter battle between me and my old pc is over. wow. so this is what having a laptop is supposed to feel like! i forgot how convenient this is...i can actually go to my favorite coffee shop and sit more than an arm's length away from the nearest wall! incredible. what's also incredible is the feeling of wanting something so badly then finally earning it through months of patience and stuffing pastries into a box (referencing my previous job here folks).

and how, you may be wondering, was i able to finance my brand new computer, considering the string of rejection letters i received from various credit card agencies? well, i happened to receive an offer from a very small, privately-owned money-lender...who also happens to be my sister :)

a payment plan has been set in motion and the first check is on its way to san francisco as i write this sentence. please don't inquire about obtaining a loan for yourself...this is strictly a family operation.

sincerely,

mac daddy

40 days and 40 nights

i was on the phone with a friend of mine discussing lent. he told me that he was giving up swearing, eating donut sticks (don't ask.), drinking soda, and drinking those flavored water concoctions that manufacturers try to say is healthy for you. our conversation inspired me to give up something as well, provided it was "something i enjoyed regularly and would definitely miss not indulging in" as he put it. literally as i was picking through the london broil and mashed potatoes my parents had just prepared it dawned on me: i should give up eating after i've had my dinner. i seriously will end up eating two full dinners because i prepare my own and then snack on everything around me. i'm allowing myself liquids and/or a piece of fruit but besides that it's lights out as far as my stomach is concerned.

after making this promise of self-control i was inspired to recruit my parents...i told them what i was giving up and that they should join me in this religious practice.

dad: "i know...i'll give up my weekly visits with a prostitute."

silence.

little death stare from mom; appalled yet not surprised in the slightest by his comment.

dad: "why don't we give up the animals?"

mom: "that's not a bad idea...i'm getting tired of them both!"

laughter...half joking yet half actually considering "giving up" our cat and dog...

me: "seriously! let's all give up something...it will be way easier to stick to our promises if we are all in it together."

now this is how it's going down, lent 2010 style:

dad is giving up coffee (gasp) and his "rot gut" treats. "rot gut" is what we call those packaged desserts that are sold as food but really probably no better nutritionally than actual rot gut. two sara lee apple orchard danishes are currently kicking it in our pantry. but don't worry, they are made with real apples! and also come with 25% of your daily fat intake, 5 grams of trans fat, and 23 grams of sugar. yummmmm. as for my mom, she is giving up eating popcorn. my family pops our own popcorn in large batches at least every other day. it's getting a little out of hand, and i know this is going to be a tough thing for her to sacrifice.

oh, and i've also decided to give up the bus-pan ritual at work. i'm a little ashamed to tell you exactly what that means.

happy ash wednesday!

i know i parked it right here...

this afternoon i had the pleasure of experiencing that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you arrive at the place where you parked your car only to find that it is no longer where you left it.

i got to talk to a very nice gentlemen on the phone who confirmed that i had less than two hours to arrive at an address with one hundred dollars in cash in exchange for my car. i hung up the phone feeling like i had just received an ultimatum from my bookie. my mom arrived about thirty minutes later to pick me up and drive me to the towing "station"- if you can call a muddy field with what looked like a trailer-turned-office a station. i wanted to scream.

the whole event obviously made me royally pissed off...figures that i have the most successful waitressing shift of my short career only to hand it all over to a tow-truck man sixteen hours later. (sidenote: don't accusingly ask the tow-man where the keys to your car are. he doesn't have your keys, you do. i guess i just felt so violated by the fact that someone took my car that i thought they would have my keys somehow as well). now, i admit that i shouldn't have been leaving my car where i was these past two weeks, which was in the parking lot of a church center ("help thy neighbor?" more like "call thy tow-truck"). however, my current employer does not provide any parking options, meaning us employees have to fend for ourselves among the city-monitored parking garages and meters. yikes. thanks, but the last thing i need right now is for one of them "cops" in their pint-size vehicles to roll up next to my ford focus while the meter is expired.

this whole event has also lead me to reflect on how many "firsts" i have had since graduating college...first time driving across state lines. first time being pulled over and written up for speeding. first time getting my oil-changed, applying (and being denied) for credit cards, and accepting (and quitting) full-time jobs. guess i can add "first time being towed" to the list.

i'm afraid to find out what "first" is in store next...

cheerio

as soon as my parents arrived home and walked through the door, a parade of questions marched their way into the living room and in my direction, interrupting the moment i was having with harry potter and the chamber of secrets. one of these questions was from my dad asking whether i liked his new car.


yep, you're looking at a red, two-door race car...fresh off the assembly line at, err... the cheerios factory. i saw a sense of pride in my dad's eyes as he told me how he applied all the various stickers to the car's exterior (and done so perfectly, i must add, after closer examination of the vehicle). then he kneeled down on the floor and gave his prize jewel the good 'ol "reverse, pull, and release" (you know what i'm talking about). i was not impressed. but i now understand why the geniuses up in marketing keep putting cars in cereal boxes.

afterthought

though it's likely that i will regret what i am about to say, i must share what went through my head this evening at work. after all the servers had lined up, written down and tasted the specials of the night, and then dispersed throughout the restaurant, i stood there...surveying my section...just waiting for my first table to arrive. as the minutes passed by, i started to feel a mix of anxiety, restlessness, and longing. when were the hostesses going to give me a table!? it felt as if i hadn't been in contact with a customer for days...like i couldn't even remember the last conversation i had had with one. and then it hit me: awaiting your first table as a waitress is like longing for a good, long kiss. i wanted one. i needed one. the anticipation kept rising until, finally, i watched with giddy excitement as a couple was seated in my section.

and then i took their drink order.

and then i remembered that i was in a restaurant and not in another man's sweet embrace.

some plastic would make me so happy

"unfortunately, based on the information provided on your application, we are unable to offer you a credit card at this time."

honestly, these words don't sting like they did the first time. that first time was over three months ago when i decided to try applying for credit cards in order to replace my quickly decaying laptop. and i say "decaying" because that is the best way to describe the sorry piece of shit that has tested my patience and sanity well into the new year. for starters, i haven't been able to use it unless i'm within four feet of the nearest wall so that it can be plugged in. but on top of the battery being shot, now the power cord has decided to die, so i'm wresting with the costs/benefits of ordering a new one. and, as you might expect with a computer nearing its four and a half year-old birthday mark, it is painfully slow. truthfully, i don't want to put any more money into this waste of space, hence the reason why i re-visited the whole "applying for a credit card" process. and what has that brought me?
rejection letter after rejection letter. i know all too well that the apple-affiliated visa card i just applied to moments ago will soon discover that i have no viable credit. they will come to learn that my yearly-income (which i calculated based on how much money in tips i can hope to make on a monthly-basis) is a little shy of what one would call a sustainable living wage. so i won't be surprised when i receive yet another rejection letter in about 7-10 business days informing me of my fiscal shortcomings. what does surprise me, however, is how much of a hurdle it has been to be accepted by a credit card company (banana republic denied me a few weeks ago. that did sting). i mean, instead of focusing my college years on excelling in the classroom and valuing my athletic scholarship by training all those summer months, should i have instead been focusing on establishing good credit? am i at fault here?

here's what it boils down to: the only way i will be approved for a credit card is by agreeing to have a co-signer...someone who will be the second card-holder...someone whose financial merit can be verified by their own established credit score. and who do you think that will be?any guesses?

daddy.

looks like i have to travel down the road of co-dependence in order to gain my independence...definitely NOT an un-familiar path to the boomeranger.

you always remember your first

welcome to the world of waitressing.

today marks the day of my first official waitressing shift (applause). the thing i was most nervous about was memorizing and reading the specials, but that came more naturally to me then i thought it would. i just have to get used to the fact that some people will tip me 8% while others will tip me 22% no matter what i do. well, that isn't entirely true. i'm sure that if i set their sweet tea down and proceed to help myself to the first sip that might lessen my chances of cashing in big. but don't worry, i'll never succumb to such an act. we servers are very skilled at concealing our frustrations on the floor, then letting them spill out as we cross the threshold separating the "restaurant" from the "steam zone". oh, no one actually calls it that...i just figure it's a befitting name for such a space. a space where we can congregate and let off steam. get it? good.

now hear me out: i realize i'm just a newborn compared to my more experienced, more knowledgeable co-workers when it comes to the restaurant business. seems like coach just put me in the game during the 2nd half with 7 minutes left on the clock while they have all been on the floor since tip-off. i have much to learn. but that also means that, without sounding too dramatic, i've hit a unique, once in a lifetime marker where everything i experience on the job is for the first time and with fresh eyes. like a "first kiss", this is my last true "first shift". that being said, i anticipate many, many waitressing-related stories making it onto this blog in the future. like this one, from earlier today, around 11:45 a.m. in walk a couple. in comes a nod from the hostess. in goes the oxygen into my mouth as i take a breath, gather my nerves, and walk over to greet my very first customers. in comes the buzz-kill as they decide to get up and leave in search of a restaurant that can better satisfy their breakfast food-craving palette. in fires the jeers from my fellow servers. well...you always remember your first!

spring has sprung

just left a meeting at my new job. all the servers, hostesses, and bartenders were in attendance, not to mention the managers and owner, who i have taken a particular liking to. when he spoke in front of his audience, he was on stage...reminding me of how my dad lights up when he is in his element coaching swimming. the owner's passion and pride for his work was clearly evident in his words and the way he spoke to the rest of us. i instantly admired and trusted him. i also thought to myself, could i ever command the same attention and admiration? it's funny how admiration can be a two-edged sword: on the one hand you are inspired by a person and want to be more like them; on the other hand, the more admirable qualities they reveal, the less you believe you can ever live-up to them in your lifetime. at least, this is how i feel sometimes when faced with the charisma or achievements that others hold. i wonder if the literature out there has researched this very sentiment...

anyhow, i am very proud of the leadership and camaraderie present at my current job, which makes coming into work that much more rewarding. i have one more test left to complete before i can start picking up shifts--after that i'll be scheduled just like the veterans are. those damn veterans...they always find something wrong with the way my tie is tied. when a certain bartender is working i'll go straight to him before he has a chance to seek me out and assess the dimples of my tie. really, i don't mind the attention because i know they are just looking out for me (and want me to look my best), but i need to take a crash course in the art of tie-tying. i also need to grab a hold of my new fetish with ties in general...silk, cotton, dots, stripes...you name it, i want it! not only was i charting in unfamiliar territory by being up past midnight last night, but i was also perusing the men's section of j.crew's online catalog. three weeks ago you would not have found me desiring a couple thin feet of fabric over a piece of jewelry or article of clothing.


though the first official day of spring is still over a month away, i feel like i am going through a rejuvenation period of my own. i am extremely focused on three things: working, training for volleyball, and dedicating time to this blog (sorry, social-life). when faced with an impulse decision, like wanting to get a french manicure, i try to ask myself whether the outcome will benefit at least one of these. now i could feasibly weasel my way into convincing myself that well-pedicured hands will improve my physical appearance on the job, thus enhancing customer service and earning me more tips...but no, the sensible thing to do would be to either paint my own nails or wait until a fat cat drops a fifty at one of my tables in the future. so for now, i will just have to live with the "sand in my suit" o.p.i. nail polish on my hands...though i know that within two days i will most definitely revert to my go-to "cha-ching cherry".