On this blistering Saturday night I am enjoying the breeze of my air conditioning, an incredibly comfortable couch, and getting a little lesson in debt from CNBC. I'm also listening to what I can only assume is the purring of the Hercules of cats. Possibly the mysterious liger? I don't think so. Try my notoriously loud neighbor working on his sweet Honda Civic for the last four hours (SPOILER ALERT: it has a not-so-purpose-serving spoiler). In my attempt to keep my anonymity from the other surrounding renters, I'll keep my mouth shut and live with it.
With a free night and little to do, I can't help but reflect on this past week. The loss of a family member induced a trip home, funeral services, and an impromptu family reunion. Even with an atmosphere looming with unresolved family issues and sadness, I couldn't help but notice how all the men in my life sport excellent mustaches. My own father has had a mustache for my entire life... I'm talking Tom Selleck style. Whether distant cousins, immediate family, or friends of relatives, I believe what is referred to as the "chevron" took the cake when it came to facial hair. I'm pretty sure about 80% of my dad's friends are rocking the "chevron"... since 1976. Keep on truckin' fellas!
Switching gears...
Yesterday night I found myself at the gym on a cardio machine. Hoping to enjoy an interrupt-less workout, I was excited to see few people in the gym. Just as my playlist got me going, that second cousin of the urinal phenomenon reared its ugly head. I counted 9 identical machines and 7 similar to the one I was on, all empty. I suppose I resemble someone who would be of some medical assistance in an emergency because Ms. Mothballs herself decided she needed to be as close to me as possible. I'm just saying... the scent of a stranger's White Rain Hairspray and me jamming to Run DMC's "It's Tricky" are not factors of a successful time in general. If she does it again, I'm giving her a name.
Hmmm, a Christmas movie on television in July? It's only natural that I watch it. Until my next awkward observance...
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
It's a Smelly Scorcher
There is no denying it's hot today. With a heat index of 115 degrees, I wonder why some of these tourists decided it would be a good idea to spend the day walking around downtown Charleston. The best part is when they come into the building where I work and say "it's pretty hot out there." Really? The fact that you are covered in sweat stains and reek didn't tip me off. Please don't talk so close to me. I don't want your stench.
As I was enjoying the air conditioning this morning, I watched one of the infamous tour guides (a brittle, old, British lady) drag herself to a bench. She's so tiny. It's hard to believe she's never broken in half. I mean, you can literally see her bones through her skin...and her feet are actually purple. I hate that I know that. Her group looked concerned with her health as she took about 5 minutes to re-cooperate. My only thought was please don't die in here. It may be morbid or a little insensitive but I'm just saying... I don't want any dead bodies on my watch.
I can really smell the horse crap today...
As I was enjoying the air conditioning this morning, I watched one of the infamous tour guides (a brittle, old, British lady) drag herself to a bench. She's so tiny. It's hard to believe she's never broken in half. I mean, you can literally see her bones through her skin...and her feet are actually purple. I hate that I know that. Her group looked concerned with her health as she took about 5 minutes to re-cooperate. My only thought was please don't die in here. It may be morbid or a little insensitive but I'm just saying... I don't want any dead bodies on my watch.
I can really smell the horse crap today...
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Is This Roid Rage?
It's been 11 days since I quit the hotel and well... it's been marvelous sleeping. I will never take that simple act for granted again. My attitude is great, I have a ton of energy, and my mood is... dare I say chipper?
With some free time now on my hands I've decided to work on getting myself healthy again. There's not a doubt in the world that a year of sleep deprivation did a number on my mind, body, and spirit. So, boot camp it is! Yep, kicking my own ass... but now that I have the time, that's all I want to do. It's also helpful that my body is trained to wake up at any time of the day (literally.any.time). Looks like 5 AM and I will be having a love/hate relationship for the next couple of months!
This week's dilemma:
The workout is at 6 AM outside. Not too hot, so at least I don't have to smell other people in the confines of a mildewy, ring-worm infested gym. Although it's been enjoyable to re-learn what sunlight is, I did not enjoy the mysterious insect bite that left me looking like Popeye's special cousin. My upper right arm was swollen and could be seen through my sleeves. As it began to cut the circulation off to my hand, I thought just maybe I should go see a doctor. I don't like hospitals and I don't like shots, but I sure got the jackpot that day. Thank you hilarious, nameless doctor who shot me up with steroids... I would love to stalk you (in the Facebook sense). So, now I'm on some steroid pills for 10 days because of some insect. Maybe it's in my head or maybe I just didn't realize what kind of energy sleep could give a person... but I could lift a freakin' car. Watch out Iron Man.
Only about .000001% of me is sad about cutting my interactions with people in half. So, on to another adventure? I not sure that's the word. I think I will be using myself as a new social experiment. I am open to ideas.
With some free time now on my hands I've decided to work on getting myself healthy again. There's not a doubt in the world that a year of sleep deprivation did a number on my mind, body, and spirit. So, boot camp it is! Yep, kicking my own ass... but now that I have the time, that's all I want to do. It's also helpful that my body is trained to wake up at any time of the day (literally.any.time). Looks like 5 AM and I will be having a love/hate relationship for the next couple of months!
This week's dilemma:
The workout is at 6 AM outside. Not too hot, so at least I don't have to smell other people in the confines of a mildewy, ring-worm infested gym. Although it's been enjoyable to re-learn what sunlight is, I did not enjoy the mysterious insect bite that left me looking like Popeye's special cousin. My upper right arm was swollen and could be seen through my sleeves. As it began to cut the circulation off to my hand, I thought just maybe I should go see a doctor. I don't like hospitals and I don't like shots, but I sure got the jackpot that day. Thank you hilarious, nameless doctor who shot me up with steroids... I would love to stalk you (in the Facebook sense). So, now I'm on some steroid pills for 10 days because of some insect. Maybe it's in my head or maybe I just didn't realize what kind of energy sleep could give a person... but I could lift a freakin' car. Watch out Iron Man.
Only about .000001% of me is sad about cutting my interactions with people in half. So, on to another adventure? I not sure that's the word. I think I will be using myself as a new social experiment. I am open to ideas.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Last Night in Zombieland
In about 2.5 hours I will officially be done working at the hotel... I hope I'm not dreaming.
It's been nothing but a silly, fun-filled night at work. The GM asked us to order whatever we wanted and he'd pay for it. So, obviously Edwina and I went to town on some terribly unhealthy food. I'm telling myself it's for old time's sake. After clogging our arteries we busted out some sweet moves while cleaning the bar up after a bunch of drunk babies, or should I say middle-aged men. I haven't been in the kitchen in a while and even after washing them a million times, my hands are left with the distinct smell of one who works in a restaurant. If you've been there, you know what I mean... lemon juice, here I come.
After our little dance marathon I sat down to catch up on some tv shows on my computer. Somehow I ended up watching "Love Handles: Couples in Crisis." Let's just say, I'd rather witness a knee surgery. That amount of uncomfortable was just unbearable, so Edwina and I decided to go harass our frog friends.
It's been nothing but a silly, fun-filled night at work. The GM asked us to order whatever we wanted and he'd pay for it. So, obviously Edwina and I went to town on some terribly unhealthy food. I'm telling myself it's for old time's sake. After clogging our arteries we busted out some sweet moves while cleaning the bar up after a bunch of drunk babies, or should I say middle-aged men. I haven't been in the kitchen in a while and even after washing them a million times, my hands are left with the distinct smell of one who works in a restaurant. If you've been there, you know what I mean... lemon juice, here I come.
After our little dance marathon I sat down to catch up on some tv shows on my computer. Somehow I ended up watching "Love Handles: Couples in Crisis." Let's just say, I'd rather witness a knee surgery. That amount of uncomfortable was just unbearable, so Edwina and I decided to go harass our frog friends.
My experience in this zombieland hasn't been all bad. I definitely have some stories and an unreal tolerance for NO sleep. I would now like to reflect upon some skillz and habits I've acquired in the past 11 months:
- Top notch incident report filler-outer
- Real good calculator user
- Ability to give self excellent paper and folder cuts
- Confesses love to Jimmy Johns employees at 1:30 am
- Random Bible swiping
- A developed hatred of cookies
I'd like to close by taking a look at an experiment of classical conditioning that has unknowingly unfolded during my time at the hotel. It's similar to that of Pavlov's Dog. Pavlov, you sneak bastard.
Every time I hear the ding of a bell... well, I think you know.
Goodbye, bell. I'll miss you most of all!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The Conversation
With only 5 days (or should I say nights?) left at the hotel I've become increasingly more aware that I need to take notice on the everyday awkwardness that surrounds me. I think it's safe to say that the general public can make any simple occurrence uncomfortable. My new mission... well, I guess it's the same as the old mission but outside of the hotel purgatory I've been living for the past 11 months.
A few days ago, as I was leaving my parents' house to head back to Charleston, I stopped by a grocery store to pick up a whopping two items. The elderly woman in one of the check-out lines was buying not even a handful of groceries. Using simple math, but not adhering to the possible annoying behaviors of human society, I picked what looked like the quickest trip out of the store. Math, you failed me. How exactly does one attempt to exercise "extreme couponing" on a tiny amount of products. Many of her coupons were expired and the argument became heated. The woman eventually gave up and paid what she owed only to remember that she was a senior citizen. Yes, I was slightly annoyed but she may not have a lot of money and I wasn't in a huge hurry. And then it happened.... the conversation. I'm pretty confident that many people would back me up in saying the check-out line is the wrong place to start up a conversation with the cashier when there are other people in line. Every time the woman looked like she was about to leave, she remembered something she wanted to add to their little talk and would butt right back in front of me. This happened about 3 times before I caught wind of the very stimulating topic. She grabbed my arm said "If you must know, we are talking about homemade banana ice cream."
My reaction was either:
A) "Well, if you must know, I'm trying to purchase my own items!"
B) "ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?"
C) "Oooooo, do tell more! I'd love to hear about the world's worst flavored ice cream!"
If you guessed any of these, you're wrong. I've always found the best way to get around these issues are just to stare blankly at the perpetrator and check your watch (it's even better if you're not wearing one) until they feel uncomfortable enough to leave. Ah, my point was made without a single word.
Note to self: Grocery shopping (and the rarely used Wal-Mart shopping) is a time to call in pessimism. Don't fight it, use it to get your dirty work done.
A few days ago, as I was leaving my parents' house to head back to Charleston, I stopped by a grocery store to pick up a whopping two items. The elderly woman in one of the check-out lines was buying not even a handful of groceries. Using simple math, but not adhering to the possible annoying behaviors of human society, I picked what looked like the quickest trip out of the store. Math, you failed me. How exactly does one attempt to exercise "extreme couponing" on a tiny amount of products. Many of her coupons were expired and the argument became heated. The woman eventually gave up and paid what she owed only to remember that she was a senior citizen. Yes, I was slightly annoyed but she may not have a lot of money and I wasn't in a huge hurry. And then it happened.... the conversation. I'm pretty confident that many people would back me up in saying the check-out line is the wrong place to start up a conversation with the cashier when there are other people in line. Every time the woman looked like she was about to leave, she remembered something she wanted to add to their little talk and would butt right back in front of me. This happened about 3 times before I caught wind of the very stimulating topic. She grabbed my arm said "If you must know, we are talking about homemade banana ice cream."
My reaction was either:
A) "Well, if you must know, I'm trying to purchase my own items!"
B) "ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?"
C) "Oooooo, do tell more! I'd love to hear about the world's worst flavored ice cream!"
If you guessed any of these, you're wrong. I've always found the best way to get around these issues are just to stare blankly at the perpetrator and check your watch (it's even better if you're not wearing one) until they feel uncomfortable enough to leave. Ah, my point was made without a single word.
Note to self: Grocery shopping (and the rarely used Wal-Mart shopping) is a time to call in pessimism. Don't fight it, use it to get your dirty work done.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Those Sneaky Bastards
Fruit... those sneaky bastards. Covered in its protective skin, rind, etc. How am I to know what's really on the inside? There's nothing like getting revved up for nature's candy only to discover that something sucked all the orange juice out of the orange.
I don't have much else to report from the past week. I have taken the weekend off to stay at my parent's house while they are out of town. I spent entirely way too much time talking to my dog and dancing around to some old school rap. That being said, I'm worried about the normal free time I have coming to me in about a week (since my time at the hotel is coming to an end). I have many things planned but what to fit into those other few hours? Learn a new language? Read some more books? Implement a task force to beat up those internet scammers that prey on little, old ladies? I am definitely open to suggestions.
I don't have much else to report from the past week. I have taken the weekend off to stay at my parent's house while they are out of town. I spent entirely way too much time talking to my dog and dancing around to some old school rap. That being said, I'm worried about the normal free time I have coming to me in about a week (since my time at the hotel is coming to an end). I have many things planned but what to fit into those other few hours? Learn a new language? Read some more books? Implement a task force to beat up those internet scammers that prey on little, old ladies? I am definitely open to suggestions.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Holy Heebie-Jeebies!
I've accomplished so much this morning. Gave myself the best paper cut of my life, added a 47th station to my Pandora Radio, and probably acquired a cavity due to all the chewing gum I've gone through in the past hour. Only another 60 minutes left of work... and then on to the next!
Spoleto is coming to a close this weekend and I must say I am relieved. We've made it through most of the festival with just a few misdemeanor potty issues... but the crazies are starting to come out. A possible homeless squatter, a Jewish-Protestant exorcist, and a religious rapping poet sums up the major highlights of the past two days. Seriously, where is my reality show?
I have a few confessions to make. I'm feeling bad about some things solely due to the heebie-jeebies. There is a specific usher at job #1, roughly 115 years old, who is always talking about how her skin keeps cracking and tries to get me to feel how thin it is. You should see my face during this exchange, holy grossness. Today she asked if I had a nail file she could borrow. I told her no (lie) because in my head all I could imagine was the usher breaking all of her fingers off while filing her nails and then handing them to me. Quite the imagination I have... but I wouldn't be surprised if something like that happens in the near future. And trust me, I will throw up on the spot. I'm also feeling a little guilty that I did not help a very confused, disoriented woman as much as I probably could have today. She was kind of....well, let's just say she was icky. Her dress was clearly on backwards and I failed to tell her because I REALLY did not want help re-dress her. I'm terrible, I know.
The end of my zombie days is fast approaching. That's right, I have put my notice in at the hotel. I guess I'll have to make an effort to go out and find the nighttime loonies, but for the first few weeks I think I'll just be enjoying that thing I once knew as sleep.
Spoleto is coming to a close this weekend and I must say I am relieved. We've made it through most of the festival with just a few misdemeanor potty issues... but the crazies are starting to come out. A possible homeless squatter, a Jewish-Protestant exorcist, and a religious rapping poet sums up the major highlights of the past two days. Seriously, where is my reality show?
I have a few confessions to make. I'm feeling bad about some things solely due to the heebie-jeebies. There is a specific usher at job #1, roughly 115 years old, who is always talking about how her skin keeps cracking and tries to get me to feel how thin it is. You should see my face during this exchange, holy grossness. Today she asked if I had a nail file she could borrow. I told her no (lie) because in my head all I could imagine was the usher breaking all of her fingers off while filing her nails and then handing them to me. Quite the imagination I have... but I wouldn't be surprised if something like that happens in the near future. And trust me, I will throw up on the spot. I'm also feeling a little guilty that I did not help a very confused, disoriented woman as much as I probably could have today. She was kind of....well, let's just say she was icky. Her dress was clearly on backwards and I failed to tell her because I REALLY did not want help re-dress her. I'm terrible, I know.
The end of my zombie days is fast approaching. That's right, I have put my notice in at the hotel. I guess I'll have to make an effort to go out and find the nighttime loonies, but for the first few weeks I think I'll just be enjoying that thing I once knew as sleep.
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