Monday, January 9, 2012

Dickheads Behaving Badly

This past Sunday I worked at the Waffle Cabin and I was determined to take a legitimate lunch break. Usually I keep a liter or so of nutritious green liquid in the fridge to sustain me but on Sunday I just wanted a slice of pizza and five minutes to eat it in peace. At around 11 I hadn't any customers for a while so I put up my official "back in 5 minutes" sign along with a hand written sign that said "Grabbing Lunch. Be Back Soon.-Emma " with a smiley face at the end. I had my bases covered and I assumed that people would understand and respect my need to eat. So I walked fast and weaved through the crowds to get my pizza as quickly as possible. My mistake was that I came back to the cabin to eat it. I just didn't like the idea of leaving it completely unattended should there be a fire or a waffle riot. Also the base lodge was crowded and I was in uniform and I was worried that I might be tracked down by hoards of children.
I set up my stool in a corner as far away from the window as possible and began eating my pizza. Maybe it had been slightly more than 5 minutes since I left but that's why I put the other sign up. Within seconds some guy had his big ugly face pressed up to the window. His hands were around his eyes shielding the light and he was definitely PEERING at me in a confused and hostile way. So, with a slice of pizza in one hand and a mouth full of cheese I gestured politely that I would just be another moment. He didn't go away but rather leaned on the counter and tapped his fingers impatiently. If I were a vendor anywhere other than at the base of a ski lift this might be understandable behavior but as it is I can be pretty fucking sure that this guy did not have any urgent appointments for which I was making him late. I swallowed my current mouthful, put down my half-eaten pizza, and attended to the man  because he seemed like the type whose indignation would escalate quickly over time and I'd rather get to him in his basic dickface stage rather than wait until he reached full-blown belligerent asshole. 


So I sold the guy three waffles for him and his slack-jawed friends (who were rolling cigarettes on the picnic we put out. Handle your shit in private, people that is a gross thing to do on a public surface) and watched as he pointedly put his change back into his wallet rather than tipping me. I don't live or die by tips so this kind of thing usually doesn't bother me but something about the fact that he was not tipping me because I took a 6 minute lunch break made me wish I had the power to perform a shit-your-pants curse. By the way, if Hogwarts existed in the real world that would be a real curse and everyone would always have explosive diarrhea.


By the time I got back to my pizza it was cold and I had to eat it standing up because my moment of leisure had passed.  Next time I am just going to let assholes be assholes and eat my  lunch.  Most people are happy that I am there to sell them waffles. This is the way it should be. Other people seem to feel that they are OWED waffles and if I am not there to serve them promptly than I am violating the terms of some contract that I was supposed to have read. These people speak to me like a 12 year old who didn't do my daily reading and who shouldn't be charging them so much for waffles. 


Of course I was fully expecting all of this when I signed on for the job but expecting outstanding douchebaggery and actually dealing with it in person are two very different things. Luckily for me I have giant dimples and a melodious voice  so people rarely pick up on my hostility (people who know me know full well how completely hostile I can be when I feel like it but at work I am the breathing incarnate of effervescent charm. you'll just have to trust me on that). The truth is that most people buying waffles are so stoked to be getting a waffle that I really enjoy serving them but they don't make very interesting writing. The over-indulged sociopaths might be a pain in the ass but they do give me something to write about.

Friday, January 6, 2012

The Least Endearing Memoir Ever Written: Chapter 1

A little smidgebit of something I've been working on.

Stage 1: The Blooming Adolescent in a New Millennium
(excerpts)

When I was 12 years old brooding was among my top five favorite activities. When I wasn't playing soccer, skiing, riding horses, or having a generally awesome childhood experience you could usually find me in my room with the lights off thinking "I bet no one is thinking about me right now. Having a soul in this Universe is so lonely..." or something like that. I would picture myself crying in these moments but in reality I was almost always trying very hard to contain a joyful, lilting giggle. I was so tickled by my own depth that I couldn't complete even the most bleak and despairing thoughts with congratulating myself at least a little bit.

My cultural consciousness came to fruition in a swirling mass of self-pity, hormonal insanity and Manic-Panic Fuchsia Shock hair dye. It was the year 2000, we had all just survived Y2k, and I was pretty sure that my point of view on everyone and everything was completely and empirically correct. I was tortured and my suffering was unrivaled because only I could truly understand the absolute darkness of the world around me. It was hard work but somebody had to step up. I spent my seventh grade year carefully honing my scowl and figuring out exactly how hard I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep myself from smiling.

You can imagine, then, when in the fall of my eighth grade year how completely annoying it was when some terrorists decided to crash a couple of planes into a couple of buildings and kill a couple thousand people a mere few hundred miles away from where I was happily building my monopoly in existential angst.  I didn't know anyone on those planes or in the buildings and as I watched those affected break down and express their anguish I felt a part of my identity slipping away. Obviously being the moody sad girl wasn't going to fly for a while so I needed to figure out some other way to show everyone exactly how different and special I was.

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More to come eventually

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Things I Know Nothin About Episode 5: High Fashion

I like clothes. They're expressive and they can be mood elevating and they're fun to pick out. I don't have a whole lot of money to spend on clothes but for me that adds to the fun. Almost everything I own was bought off of a sale rack or at a thrift store or at a store that was cheap to begin with. I value good fit, solid construction, visual interest, and practicality. That being said not everything I own is particularly practical, but I don't own anything that I've only worn once or twice. I will wear the pink silk party dress that I bought for a special occasion on a normal day should I feel so inclined. I'll pair that shit with gold sneakers and a hoodie and rock it in the grocery store. I know I look unbalanced but it just makes me feel better about the gruesome reality of the world we live in. That's my relationship with fashion as best as I can describe it without giving you a full blown timeline of my shopping habits. Fashion is a creative form of expression that we get to partake in everyday and for that I am grateful. I am often troubled, however, when I take the next step and begin to think about fashion as an industry which I am buying into.
 

I am about 5'2 and anywhere between a size 4 and a size 8 depending on whether or not I need to sit down in whatever I'm wearing. Although I quit competitive sports several years ago my butt and quads tell a different story.  Basically, the fashion industry likes to ignore people with my body type not so much because it is unattractive, but because it is difficult to fit. Tall and skinny is just easier. I get that. Throw a quick paced fashion show with multiple wardrobe changes into the mix and I can almost understand why the face of fashion is so emaciated. I get that for many designers fashion is an art form and tall, skinny, weird lookin' bitches enhance their aesthetic because they are odd and exceptional and a normal girl, even a very pretty one, would make too commercial a statement. Fine. I am not going to drool over these kinds of designers but I do appreciate the beauty in what they create. What really bothers me about the industry is the inclusion of "Red Carpet Looks" into the realm of high fashion. A beautiful gown may be a piece of art but the minute you bring it out onto some meaningless procession of Hollywood stars it becomes a more damaging statement about standards of beauty and the financial implications of what "having style" really means.

Hollywood stars are the last people that any of us should be emulating in our fashion choices. Not only do they have tons of money, but they are getting free stuff thrown at them all the time for promotional reasons. It just isn't worth paying attention to. I'm not saying Hollywood style doesn't trickle down into my wardrobe indirectly, but I do not actively seek fashion guidance from Hollywood. Here is a picture I found online of three actresses who bother the shit out of me wearing dresses that are nice but have no place in the real world



If you are in a situation where you think to yourself "Oh my, I really need a gown and it really needs to be made by an important designer" than you are probably at least a little bit over-privileged and living a life that bears no resemblance to an authentic human experience. It is at this point in my ramblings that the "Things I know Nothing About" bit comes into play, because obviously, as a not rich person I don't know what kind of world these dresses actually get worn in. I just know that I wouldn't fit in there and have no envy of a lifestyle that facilitates spending on a dress what could be put towards something productive. Spending money on clothes you live your life in is one thing and I often wish that I had more disposable income so I could but another pair of Jcrew Cords. There is a huge divide between that and a multi-thousand dollar gown. And to wear such a gown one has to have a certain kind of body and spend a certain amount of energy on ones hair or makeup or the whole fantasy becomes sad and deflated. Hey, I went to prom. My dresses were homemade but I know the feeling of putting on something immensely beautiful and seeing all of your own flaws amplified in comparison.


To shift gears a bit, I would like take a moment to discuss trends and changes in the fashion landscape from decade to decade. There was a really interesting article in Vanity Fair  (You Say You Want A Devolution) recently about how fashion innovation has pretty much slowed down to a crashing halt in recent years and we are sort of stuck in a fashion feedback loop. I'm not going to try to take on the cultural implications of this because I've really only been fashionably conscious for a little over a decade (everything before age 12 is just a blur of leggings and scrunchies). I do think it's interesting though that my generation can't seem to get our shit together and do anything original. I know it's partly because our exposure to the past is exponentially greater to that of previous generations, but it has because so trendy to look like a relic that we seem to have forgotten that innovation is a thing that people do sometimes. Anyway the article says it better than I can. Go read it.


Ok. I've exhausted myself and I actually have  a room full of clothes to organize most of which seem to sweatpants and t shirts. All this talk and most of the time all I really want is to be comfortable and warm. Then again I'm from Vermont and my pragmatism can be pretty all consuming.










Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Return to Sanity






I just worked 11 days in a row, all 8 hour shifts and more. It was a holiday week which means I was very busy. It actually wasn't so bad seeing as I don't have a whole lot to do on my days off. Saving money is really boring if you're actually succeeding at it.  Also, since I neglected cleaning my room for 11 days because I was tired I now have something to do. Currently my issue is that I slept for a solid 11 hours last night and now I feel completely groggy and generally shitty. I'm thinking that cleaning can happen tomorrow and today can just be a lazy nothing day. I think I've earned one.

You might think that because I worked so many days I might have some interesting thoughts about my jobs and the people I've encountered this week. The truth is that I don't really want to talk about it too much. My job at the waffle hut is easily the most stressful thing I've ever done when it's busy. When it's not busy I love it because I get to take my time and make big pretty waffles and everyone is happy with me. When it is busy I am in a constant panic that I am going to run out of  proofed dough and not have enough waffles for everyone at the end of the day. When I'm feeling more generous I will explain exactly what I have to do at my job when I'm there by myself but as I said right now I just don't want to talk about it. Once I get better at it I'll probably feel better about it but right now thinking about it makes my blood pressure rise, as does the smell of waffles.

My other job is fine. I had a few more blowhards calling to ask stupid questions than usual but I am pro at fielding that shit and I get to sit down.

I am going to take the next 24 hours or so to recharge my brain and then I'll hopefully come back with something witty and wonderful to write about.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Things I Know Nothing About Episode 4: The Psychological Differences Between Men and Women




 I was an English major, not a Psych major, and most of my references about the baseline cultural understandings of the difference between men and women come from sitcoms, stand-up comics, and most recently Gossip Girl (this is my example of ways in which popular culture may be misleading when it comes to normal dynamics between men and women.) I am not going to go into things such as the Psychological reasoning behind why men are less monogamous than women. To say that men are designed to spread their seed is A) Completely fucking obvious and not worth thinking about and B)Irrelevant, because it is also completely fucking obvious that the human race has created a world for itself in which evolutionary incentives are meaningless. I will give heed to the excuse that men cheat because they are designed to once someone can explain to me why men find Taylor Momsen attractive.  I am going to talk about what I know and think without doing any research, as usual, and because I am college educated and fond of my own opinions you may be tempted to take some of my assertions as truths...probably because I present them as such. By all means, agree with me. I am a remarkable individual and I am usually right about most things. Just don't quote me in any papers.

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I am pretty sure that everyone is crazy but me, but I do occasionally make efforts to empathize with the maladjusted masses. When it comes to gender relations, it so happens that my personal experiences do not substantiate most of the commonly accepted theories about men, women, and their interpersonal relationships. I tend to think that either people are capable of handling relationships in a sensible way or they are not. Anyone who says things like "Chicks are crazy" or "men are pigs" are actually just people who don't pick their company very well. This reflects more on the person willing to make such sweeping generalizations than it does on the gender to which they are assigned. I believe that evolution did not prepare humanity well for the society we have created with our big wonderful brains.  The female minds of the world may trend in congruent patterns as do the mens', but a person capable of recognizing the humanity in the opposite sex should never feel like he or she is dealing with a different species. Occasionally a person of the opposite sex will be completely batshit insane, but it is equally insane to equate one person's actions to an entire gender.
Note: As an English Major I am well acquainted with Feminist  (literary) Theory, Queer (literary) Theory, and the general idea that to acknowledge gender differences in writing is to reinforce stereotypes which is basically equivocal to oppressing every single person on the planet for the rest of their lives. I'm not really on board with that line of thinking but I can respect the delicacy of the matter so I try to be cognizant of it when it occurs to me to do so. So, I understand the potential implications of only discussing heterosexual gender relations and I apologize in advance if anyone out there feels that this post is banishing them into the abyss of Otherness. The thing is that I am a straight, straight up woman and I have never had any confusion over any of that so it really wouldn't be appropriate of me to try to discuss homosexual or transgender psychology, especially since I barely know what I'm talking about in reference to straight people.
 All that being said, I would like to present my ideas in a series of "case studies".

#1 John Mayer

 I don't know John Mayer. I actually haven't bought any of his albums since Continuum and I'm not really sure what he's up to these days other than dating country singers and getting bad haircuts. For whatever reason though, I have formed some distinct opinions about him which I believe to be relevant. Here is what I think I know about John Mayer: He is a good musician and kind of an asshole. He was on Chappelle's show earlier on in his career. He dates women who are notorious for not being able to stay in a relationship. He is pretty tall. 

John Mayer is a good guitar player and a decent song writer. I don't care for him all that much because I find his music to be emotionally manipulative and although I sometimes feel a catch in my throat while listening to "Daughters", I consider his music a guilty pleasure. Obviously some women eat that shit up, though. More surprising is that a number of men eat it up too. Straight men, too. They  tend to be image-conscious amateur musicians who claim to respect his guitar playing. There are plenty of good guitar players, though, and I always get a kick out of a guy who spends hours at the gym and runs home to listen to lyrics aimed at teenage girls. As far as emotionally manipulative pop music goes John Mayer is not so bad, and because he has a reputation that contradicts his sappy lyrics, men are more willing to admit to liking him. My point, I think, is that men and women are equally receptive to emotional manipulation, but women are more willing to admit it in public because it is socially acceptable. I am not saying that all men secretly like John Mayer. I just think what works on ladies who like his style of music works on men who like his style of music too.

Conclusion: All men who like John Mayer are huge sissies. Just kidding.
 #2: The Year I lived With 5  Boys


I lived with 5 boys my Junior year of college. One of them was/is my boyfriend and none of what I am about to say is based on his behavior. 
Everyone told me that I would hate living with boys, and that definitely turned out to be true, but not for the reasons I was expecting. I knew that boys are smelly and that sticky surfaces don't seem to bother them. I like a good organizational/cleaning spree as much as the next girl but I don't live my life in fear of dirt and errant socks so I was prepared to cope with the mess. The alternative at the time was moving in with a house of girls who I had never met and the potential for disaster seemed a lot higher. What I wasn't expecting from the house of boys was that they felt completely entitled to have parties every weekend even when one or more of the housemates had to work early in the morning and even though the parties almost always invited a noise violation. To them, the noise violation was a sign that the cops were dicks who were looking to make money on violation penalties. To me, the noise violations were a sign that we had neighbors who didn't appreciate the hundreds of college kids screaming and smoking cigarettes in our driveway and maybe that was a concern worth considering. This dynamic was my biggest problem with our living situation, and although some of the offensive behavior was a direct result of a phallocentric thought process, the lack of consideration for others is not a distinctively masculine trait. It is a trait of anyone with their head up their ass and that condition can afflict pretty much anyone at any time.
As a case study, my roommates presented with some interesting patterns. I know enough guys who are nothing like my roommates to know that any conclusions I draw from their behavior are essentially meaningless, but I also know that many of their issues are fairly wide spread.
The most disturbing thing I observed was that several of my roommates seemed incapable of recognizing the humanity in women. Women were an entity that were there to be slept with or maybe even dated, but not necessarily valued for their company. Mind you, I don't think my roommates were sexist, necessarily. I think they were just so used to the idea that women were going to reject their advances that they had come to view women as a challenge that required scheming and fancy tricks rather than, perhaps, normal conversation and the expression of affection. They seemed to replace every female they met with the most basic idea of GIRL, and then complained when this female entity proved to be more complex than previously hoped. A common phrase in our apartment, and this is a cleaner version of what was really said, was "Man we gotta get some chicks in here tonight." Parties would be designed around this goal, the idea being the more girls in the apartment the more likely it would be that one of them might debase themselves. This actually does work. I really can't argue with the numbers. However, it seemed like a pretty exhausting, not to mention expensive, cycle. Here is how it all works based on my observations:
Pre-requisite: You are a man. You live with other men. No one is having any sex with you. This is a problem
1)Plan Party. You might have a friend who is/has a very mediocre dj/band who is willing to play in return for free beer and the potential of women. Call him.

2) Call your female friends( if you have any) and tell them to tell their friends about the party. Tell them there will be booze and it will be free for girls even if you haven't discussed any of this with your roommates, are not 21, and have no money.
3) Ask you roommates to "throw down" for a keg and/or liquor. If you are not 21, go ahead and assume that someone will be willing and able to pick this up. Don't ask them yet. Wait until the last minute and then accuse them of ruining the weekend if they try to refuse.
4) Once you feel like at least 3  girls might be coming, go ahead and tell some guys. Say something like "Hey man it's $5 at the door but it'll be wall to wall chicks!".
5) Argue with your roommates for several hours about who will be in charge of manning the door/watching the keg/mixing drinks. Try asking your female roommate who hates all of your parties. She won't do it. Assume that things will work themselves out and worry about it later.
6) Procure alcohol. Convince whoever you tricked into helping you do this that you will pay them back with the profits from the party.
7) Help the dj/band set up. This will be difficult because they will already be completely drunk.
8) Wait for the first wave of people, which will always be a herd of really ugly dudes. Be nice to them. They're doing the best they can.
9) Eventually a girl will show up. Bother her until she is so uncomfortable that she calls her friends and tells them not to come.
10) Drink away your sorrows. Forget that you are supposed to be getting money from people at the door and making sure not too many dudes get in.
11) Too many dudes have gotten into your party. No one has paid. Everyone is upset. Everyone is drunk. No one has any sex.
Repeat.
This isn't all based off my roommates. They were actually pretty good about money but I've seen this dynamic at work elsewhere. It is a distinctly male dynamic because women do not usually have problems filling their apartment with men if they need to. The only girls I have ever known who are willing to throw keggers where they live have been pretty skanky. Not that I have a problem with that. I have found that promiscuous women, at least the ones you find at college, are usually pretty smart and funny. Just don't go drinking with them unless you have a backup plan. They will usually abandon you with very little notice.
Sex motivates both men and women but failure can really mess with a persons morals. Because men have a higher rate of failure in their efforts then they quickly spiral downward into the realm of skeezyness. Or they were there to begin with. But most guys who start out skeezy just skip the middle man and join a frat. Women, on the other hand, knowing about this spiral effect, will sometimes use sex to manipulate and torture men who don't have many other options. I am willing to make statements about why men do the icky things that they do because I am not a man and I know that my attempts to empathize will never be dead on. Because I am a woman I really can't say why some women treat relationships like a military coup. My best guess is they are under the impression that men and women can never really have a healthy, reciprocal relationship so they figure they might as well have the upper hand. Bitches, man. I just don't know.

#3 Other People's Failed Relationships

I am the product of an unbroken home. I guess that's not so common these days. No one in my house ever stomps around saying horrible things about entire genders. All insults hurled in my house are directed at the individual and carefully tailored to his or her many shortcomings. That is the way it should be. Expressed animosity is the cornerstone to a happy home as long as that animosity is specifically articulated and appropriately directed. So you'll have to excuse me if my understanding of why relationships fail is a little sketchy. By failure I mean ending on bad terms. If you date a person who wasn't a good fit but you end up friends then I consider that a successful relationship. I have remained on good terms with all of the people I've dated.Although, a boy I went on two dates with when I was 16 recently unfriended me on facebook. We hadn't spoken in quite some time, so I can only assume he has a girlfriend who finds my beauty threatening and demanded that he unfriend me. I also assume that everyone I've ever dated talks about me all the time. I might have an ego problem.

Anyway...

When people are in a relationship and have supposedly been in love, and then breakup and hate each other, there are usually a few things going on given that no one cheated on the other person or purposefully killed the other's pet or turned out to be a Russian spy. The first condition tends to be that the couple is into really gross PDA. I only say this because I don't like to pry into people's love lives so if I knew the couple was "in love" it was probably because they were trying really hard to make that obvious. Secondly, both people have jealousy issues and a fear of being alone. These are people who make people come with them to the bathroom or can't get a burrito without some backup. Lastly, they hate each other's friends and therefor get mad whenever the other person wants to spend time with their friends. 2 or more of these conditions in a relationship is an almost unavoidable recipe for combustion. If you yourself have any of these issues then I would really suggest that you seek therapy. 
Here is what I have observed (meaning assumed) are the differences between the way men and women handle themselves in these kinds of relationships:

-The man will refuse to acknowledge that there is a problem while the woman will start making up problems that aren't related. Man: "I don't see what the big deal is. Get off my back." Woman:"You never kiss me goodnight anymore!"

-The man will see his friends out of spite without telling the other where he is while the woman will see her friends out of spite and keep calling/texting the man to purposefully rub it in his face.

-The man will suspect every man in the woman's life wants to sleep with her. The woman will assume that the man is attracted to every woman in his life.

-Both people will claim to have sacrificed for the other but neither one actually has.

My conclusion is that men and woman are different but it doesn't matter if you are a crazy person. It makes no sense to blame your relationship problems on the other person's gender traits unless you are thinking about switching teams.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Shapewear, Headbands, and Other Bad Ideas on a Friday Night

Shapewear, Headbands, and Other Bad Ideas on a Friday Night
 
Three hook and eye closures stand between  my very full bladder and the toilet. I hike up my unforgiving sequined miniskirt and contort into a stance usually reserved for heavy lifting. My four inch platform ankle booties actually provide some helpful leverage, but balancing (as I grasp at my groin with increasing urgency) quickly becomes problematic.  I silently give gratitude that this particular bar has a private bathroom and with one flamboyant maneuver, finally release the bra style closure at my crotch.
 
 
The body shaping onesy with the "freedom release bottom" had seemed like such a good idea in the store. I usually stay away from such items because they're uncomfortable, inconvenient, and I don't really need them, but something about this product spoke to me. It was at a discount overstock clothing store out in the boonies of northern central Vermont at which I have made many fine purchases over the years. I felt the warm inner-glow of a bargain well found as I pushed my items over the counter to the dour cashier. The black sequined mini-skirt was both playful and edgy without being too super short. The sequins were cut into little rectangles which were only sewn on the top so they hung and jangled about like chunky tinsel. Although the tags were cut out I was able to glean from the care label that it was originally sold by Forever 21. The "Sliminizer" ("Oprah's Shapewear!") was a leotard of sorts in a rich brown with a flattering plunging neckline and the aforementioned bra-style closure at the crotch. "Only $12?," I thought in my special head voice reserved for frenzied deal hunting, "Why not? And $9 for the skirt??!! No need to try these on! Let's buy them NOW!" And so I did along with several other less exciting but more practical items.  I brought my treasures home and squirreled them away for the perfect debut opportunity.
 
Tonight I am out in the very hip town of Montpelier, Vermont. For those of you not familiar with Montpelier, that was a sarcastic remark. The bar is one that would like to consider itself upscale but seems to be full of sock-footed, noodling hippies most of the time. The occasion is my role as a "special guest vocalist" at my father's musical engagement (otherwise known as a "gig" to all the hepcats out there). I have my shapewear on over some rockin two-toned tights with my black mini and a purple silk blouse with slightly poofed sleeves and a jaunty tie at the neck. I actually curled my hair a bit and am wearing a headband with a broad silver bow  fastened to it.  To be honest, I look awesome. As long as I stand upright and keep my range of motion limited, that is. The construction of the skirt, it turns out, may be of questionable integrity. The sequins are  sewn onto a flimsy non-stretch fabric which makes the garment almost impossible to move in or get over my hips in either direction. My headband is giving me a headache but if I remove it my meticulously designed hairstyle will be ruined. The shapewear, while not entirely uncomfortable and doing a bang-up job of flattening my tummy, constricts my bladder.  I have to pee about 30% more frequently and  doing so is about 300% more difficult.
 
Which brings me back to the bathroom stall where I have now relieved myself and am faced with the task of refastening the three hook and eye closures which are so difficult to line up you would think they were magnetized against one another. Finally, at least one of the closures pops into place, which is good enough for me at the moment, so I straighten up triumphantly and coerce my skirt back down over my butt. I emerge quietly  into the dim-lit room and take solice in knowing that no one ever has to know what just went on, and what will go on at least 3 more times before the end of the night. I could take the garment off, I suppose, but I am determined to get my $12 worth.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Doodles #2

I have returned from my little hiatus. In the past week or so all I've really done is work, hang out with a dog, and start watching Gossip Girl on Netflix. I am thoroughly regretting that last one. Now I have to finish. Anyhow I'm feeling uncharacteristically unimpressed with my own thoughts today, to here are some little doodles I collected from my station at work. I tell myself as long as I draw ski-related things then it isn't really slacking off.
This weekend I start training to be a waffle maiden. This isn't s actually what they call people who do my job but I've anointed myself with the title for my own amusement. My days off will be dwindling down to just 1 or 2 a week soon so please forgive me if my blogging becomes less consistent. More doodle posts can be expected. I'll do my best to come up with interesting things to rant about.