My So Called "Proud" Immune System

There is nothing more annoying than consistently coming down with a cold or some form of sickness when you can't really afford to be sick. Back in high school, I spent four whole years being extremely grateful that I had an immune system worthy of the most nasty colds. The words "I neer get sick" were more true than anything else I'd ever say.

I got summer colds, but never winter colds, and typically, I was struck down with something every summer, but only for a few days and only that one time. It was the same, each summer. And then I'd move on with my life.

Recently, in the past few months, I have been consistently sick more than is normal for me. I guess this is a mark of growing older-- because with age, your immune system starts to play tricks on you. It decides that it wants to go on strike at the most ridiculously absurd times. And it chooses to go on strike irregularly and almost every other week.

For the past year, I think I've been sick at least once every month. It's irritating, because I'm NEVER sick.

Theory has it, from friends, that I've been sick more often lately due to stress. Trying to finish up this Medical Technology program, I've put much more work and effort into completing this task than I've ever done for anything else. I mean, back in high school, sure I worked hard to make things happen for me, but I never had to put too much effort into it-- high school was a cake walk. Throughout the beginning of college, I doubt I put much of my effort into working hard at all-- college was boring until you could figure out what it was you wanted to do with your life. And then when I finally figured it out, Forensic Science courses were extremely easily passed with an 'A'. And now, in Medical Technology, all of my slacking off since I started going to college has caught up with me.

With this program, I feel like I need to put in twice the effort and twice the time and twice the hard work I used to put in for anything I've ever done. And because of this, I skip sleep, I get worked up, and I get nervous over the littlest things. I'm constantly studying and worrying about my grades. Stress level goes up and lack of sleep will probably equal into a temporarily impaired immune system.

And so as my friends are telling me, the only reason I've been getting sick so much more often lately is because I'm stressed out. Once the program is done and over with, I will probably go back to the way I used to be.

Another theory popped up, but not about why I've been getting sick more often, but about why I feel like I'm being crushed by diesel trucks whenever I get sick. I try so hard not to be a baby whenever I catch something, but it just so happens that I feel so much like crap that I can't help it. Whenever I get sick, it just seems to hit full-force, every single time.

And we have attributed this to the fact that, well, I never get sick. If you never get sick, then you never know how to deal with any cold that comes around. Your body goes into panic mode and you have trouble with sickness tolerance. Most people will just simply say, I'm sick, and move one. I'll do that too, but then there's hacking, sneezing, and feeling dizzy all the time. It can't be helped-- because I'm never sick as much as everyone else, my body doesn't know how to handle it when it comes around.

And so all of that pride I've always had in a strong immune system... Well, I can't really take the dumb thing for granted anymore. At least not when I'm currently rushing through another streak of sore throat and congestion.

Rain Rant

I personally love the rainy season. There's something absolutely soothing about the sound of rainfall and the feel of raindrops plopping down onto your skin. It's nice and cool and storms are sometimes really pretty to watch.

Of course, unfortunate things do occur. Bad storms can leave you neighborhood strewn with leaves, branches, and probably your next door neighbor's trash. If the storm is bad enough, it'll pick up an entire trailer park and drop it in your high school's football field (a tornado, that is). And yes, lots of people do not like thunder.

And then there's the never ending cycle of stupid Wichita drivers in the rain. I've been complaining about this for the longest time. Nothing is ever going to be done about it, because as soon as that first drizzle of water hits a windshield, it's like every driver feels the necessity to drop their speed by one half.

Brakes will start showing up on the freeway, people crawl the highway like bugs, and apparently, rainy weather gives everyone the right to drive like a moron.

Today, while heading home from a nice long study session, I noted the car that I drove behind was going about ten miles under the limit. While it had poured a little bit earlier, by the time I was back on the road, it was nothing but a drizzle. I barely needed to put my wipers on. But the entire way down 21st street, I followed this car who was driving about 30 mph and keeping about 20 feet away from the car in front of him. In the other lane, there were cars galore and so passing him was NOT an option.

Now, I sincerely apologize if the person driving in front of me was an older man-- which I believe he was. Driving cautiously is key to some people and I understand that. I remained quite patient.

As soon as we began ascending onto the freeway, however, I swear he put his brakes on every two seconds up until he merged. He then promptly proceeded to switch into the middle lane, gracefully cutting off another driver who's brakes flashed immediately. The slowpoke continued to drive 10 under the limit and I passed him with a bit of relief.

I personally am not a fellow driver. I don't claim to be the best driver out there. I'm cautious and try to avoid as many accidents as possible within reason. I don't drop my speed suddenly without warning, I don't like to cut people off because I don't like to be cut off. I especially do not like to tail-gate because my reaction is sometimes a wee bit slow-- of course, towards the last half of my journey home, I noted a car behind me who was probably three feet up my ass. If I can't see your headlights, you are too close buddy.

I apologize for my old clunker of a car. It only goes so fast and if you don't want to drive slower than you like, then go around me. Simple as that.

Driving doesn't have to be hard.

Backtracking to somewhere in the middle of my drive home on the nifty and busy highway of 135, heading south, a large, made of complete hard metal truck changes lanes to get in front of me. This guy is not the problem; he was far enough in front of me that I could slow down to match his pace.

Unfortunately, a few moments later, he comes to a complete stop in the middle of the freeway while we are in the middle lane. I brace myself, I press down on my brakes, but I'm afraid to just slam on them because the ground is wet after all. I think I managed to stop within just a tiny bit of an inch away from colliding with the truck in front of me. By now, I am too surprised to think clearly until I notice that nothing else is happening. We have come to a dead stop in the middle of the freeway, but the other two lanes to either side are still moving, albeit, a little slower.

Moments later, the truck starts up again, and what do I see but some white SUV pulling out and over onto the shoulder of the freeway and stopping. Some woman had found it necessary to come to a complete stop on the freeway. And this isn't even all. After she pulls over onto the shoulder-- and not even all the way over, she immediately jumps out of her car which opens up directly into oncoming traffic from behind her and circles around to the back of her vehicle to check something.

I watched as two cars swerve towards my lane-- with me still in it-- to avoid running her stupid ass over and then the rest of the cars in that same lane slowing to a stop to keep from slaughtering her or taking her driver's side door out because the b**** doesn't even have the decency to shut her door as she inspects whatever it is she needs to inspect about her car.

Now I don't know what actually happened to cause her to have to first stop traffic in the middle lane while she waited to get out of the middle lane then over onto the shoulder. I don't know what was so important that she needed to burst unexpectedly out of her car into more traffic and thus stopping more traffic. If it was really that important, then maybe I'm in the wrong. But had this been a worst case scenario, I probably would have head-butted the metal-made truck in front of me and my car would have crumbled. Cars behind me would have then proceeded to sandwich me as well.

I'm a little distraught.

Following her little stop, she probably would have been bumped off of the freeway and to wherever had the truck not swerved out of her way when she jumped out of her own vehicle so suddenly. There's an accident that might have been able to have been prevented if she would have just been a little more patient and slowly made her way, all the way over onto the shoulder.

Okay. I'm done. I'm sorry about the newest post being another rant. I was a little shaky and pissed.

But I swear, the correlation concerning stupid drivers and rain is directly proportional. More rain equals stupider drivers.

For happier news, well, I guess I can say that I'm in good spirits about the final I have to take tomorrow. Somehow, I'm a bit calm about that.

And so there it is. A rant and a small bit of good news.

Day 4 of KC trip -- In which we wander then return home

Yes, the trip has finally come to an end. Unlike yesterday, driving wasn't as amusing, although when you put me and two of my closest friends together (especially me and Barbie) we have the most interesting conversations. Three hours is quite the time for a long drive and interesting conversation as we watch the scenery go by. Kansas country scenery is always amazing. Unlike last year when it practically poured buckets of water on us on the way home, this time around was sunny with clear skies and good weather.

While the contents of our conversations are usually best off not being divulged to public ears, I can only say that we did not have a boring car ride back home. Although it's hard to recall what we usually say to each other, so I wouldn't be able to tell others anyway. I recall some talk about cows, wheat fields and corn fields, farming, and then our beloved driver screaming at slow moving cars and stupid drivers with all her rage.

Times are fun.

Last night was a horrid sleeping night. While I was finally tired enough to sleep without waking at intervals, it figures that the room phone would malfunction and continuously ring through the night. We were NOT happy about that, but the hotel graciously apologized and refunded our night stay, so basically we were only charged for one night. After all, we weren't the only guests who were kept awake all night from the room phone ringing randomly through the night.

I guess since I get an employee discount anyway, I'm fine with that.

More shopping was done as we went back to Legends mall. I do believe that its a nice place to go-- it's mostly outlet stores and factory stores, which means that everything is cheaper and discounted than typical retail price. Surprisingly, I ended up buying some clothes for the winter. I guess I'm biding my time-- I'm fully prepared for the wintertime now.

Following we went to eat lunch at Bo Ling's Chinese Restaurant and I introduced my friends to dim sum. Enjoyable as it is, the amount of food your order as the servers come by with cart after cart of dim sum can add up quickly. For me, dim sum is always good and I even brought home some baked buns for my family.

While it doesn't seem like we've done much besides shop-- which is pretty much true-- I feel like we've done quite a bit these past few days in KC. A lot of time was pretty much just spent driving around and seeing new scenic sites and just hanging out and talking and laughing. I'm happy to say that we had a lot of fun.

It gets tiring to be on the road all the time for me, but this is one I especially enjoyed. While I feel bad that one of my friends was sick during the trip, I'm glad that she was able to come-- a vacation probably did some good for her anyway and she seemed to have just as much fun. Secondly, I feel kind of bad for my other friend who may or may not have contracted some of the cold/flu that us other two girls might have exposed her to.

Overall, this trip was a good one and I look forward to the next. By then, some of the newer shopping districts will probably be more developed and maybe newer areas will be available to visit.

Day 3 of KC trip - part 2 -- In which travel comes with amusement everywhere

It's funny all the things you run into while you're trying to get from one part of the city to another.

A fender bender causes a three lane stop for a mile or two on a major highway and while waiting for traffic to slowly crawl its way through, cars try to weave their ways between two inch gaps because they don't know whether they want to stay on the freeway or attempt to fly off of it. With flares and at least two police cars on the road, we had expected that something big happened-- but a simple fender bender it was.

Driving in KC has never been so amusing as today as our beloved Garmin attempted to direct us in the most outstanding directions possible just to pass through the middle of nowhere to arrive somewhere. At one point, we actually believed that we had pissed off the navigator enough that it would leave us stranded in an area we were unfamiliar with and then just shut down, taking out car and cell phones with it.

My company and I would never return home again.

But taking a very scenic, detour-ish route, we finally ended up at the locations requested.

Not that I'm complaining, because it's nice that we have a Garmin to direct us where to go. During the evening while looking for a way to get to the Cheesecake Factory in Overland Park-- yes, we ended up going a second time-- we drove passed a lot of very nicely designed residences. They were old, but they were beautiful with layouts that gave some an old fashioned, Victorian feel and others large enough to be mansions. The streets entrances to each neighborhood had identical greeting statues in the forms of flower pots, lions, etc., etc., etc...

There is nothing I love more than seeing all the unique statues, monuments, fountains, and various artistic displays in this area. Our own hometown has a lot of pieces of metal that we may like to call art, but they hold absolutely nothing against everything here in KC.

Driving in Kansas City is a little bit crazier than in Wichita. Traffic laws seem to be thrown out the window as car after car zoomed passed us as we too broke the law by going a couple miles over the speed limit. Even in heavy traffic, we kept seeing cars zip in and out of lanes barely few inches from grazing a car in front or behind.

Shopping today was rather productive. New York and Co. managed to pry money out of my hands gleefully as I watched on with puppy dog pouting. After that, I was sucked into a nice little place called Teavana that pretty much hypnotized me like an enchantress-- yes, they got some of my money too. My friends did their spending as well at New York and Co., but apparently when it came to Maurices, we seemed quite hesitant.

While it felt like we did a lot of things today, we really spent a lot of time driving around looking for different shopping malls or shopping districts. We found Zona Rosa after a slight detour to a desolate looking Indian Springs shopping center that may or may not have been located in a ghost town. I swear that when we come back next year, someone is going to tell us that Indian Springs has not existed for at least twenty years and what we saw was nothing. I bet my life on it-- but we don't really have to bet.

Zona Rosa looked to be a newer outdoor shopping district. There were still lots that were advertising for lease and the area was lain out very ideally with a few park-like areas were you can take pictures or just sit and enjoy the peace of the outdoors. Next year, I don't mind coming back to Zona Rosa as it is a nice area to visit, even if you're just going to walk around and window shop.

Overall, with an amusing car ride from one place to another, we had a lot of fun.

We had had plans to go to the Power and Light District, but currently lounging in the hotel room, we all seem to settled to want to go anywhere else. I don't mind that so much-- I think we've hit the point where just lounging feels good anyway. A nice, almost light turned heavy dinner at Cheesecake Factory, I think has gotten us to exhausted to do anything else.

Food has been great, shopping has been fun, random driving roadtrip is amusing... I'd say that the trip so far is going excellent.

Tomorrow will be the last day and our plans seem to be along the lines of last shopping plus lunch and then whatever else. But it's not set since we like to go with the flow-- itineraries are not for us and may drive us crazy.

Day three of the Kansas City trip-- still going very well.

Day 3 of KC trip - part 1 -- In which sleep was cruel and we prepare to do more shopping

I think the titles of my posts are getting longer.

Anyway, the night stay at hotels have always been dreadful for me. Ever since I was young and went on vacations with my family, I've never been able to sleep well in a hotel room.

Don't get me wrong-- the beds are comfortable to lay on and the rooms are nice, but my stupid mentality just won't let me sleep peacefully. And so I spent the night waking up at intervals. I have a bad case of insomnia to begin with anyway, so that doesn't help.

Sometime during the middle of the night, I woke up and heard some loud screaming and cussing. It could have come from outside-- but we are on the third floor. It could have come from one of the rooms around us, either a television or people. My friend says she heard someone's TV really loudly last night, but I managed to miss it somehow.

I'm a little sleepy right now since I couldn't sleep last night, but I'm sure I'll pep up as soon as we get started.

The day is planned with shopping and then hitting up the Power and Light District tonight.

The weather is very nice since it rained last night.

We are go for more wandering around today.

Day 2 of KC trip -- In which we shop til the cows come home

Technically, it's day one, but I started off day one last night, so this will be day two.

And technically, we really just spent the entire day walking around the Country Club Plaza and Legends mall. They're very nice outdoor areas where lots and lots and lots of department stores are located.

We arrived in Kansas City at approximately 11:30-ish just in time to stop at the Cheesecake Factory for a nice big lunch. And thus that crosses off one of the things that we intended to do on our list. Following, we spent the rest of the morning wander the streets of the Plaza until it was time to check into the hotel.

Lo and behold, the Plaza is currently hosting an Art Fest and we were just in time to watch as people put their booths together. Lots of interesting different kinds of artwork that probably cost more than I can afford to eat within a year. When you find something you like, you're probably best off not touching it and just walking away.

The shopping around the Plaza wasn't quite fruitful and as we dodged ferocious KC drivers, we made our way into those few stores that you don't see in Wichita. Now, we've been to the Plaza before-- it's a very scenic place with lots of statues and lots of flower gardens and lots of stores. It's also an extremely congested area where, no matter where you go, there are cars, people, more cars and then more people. If you're not careful, someone gets run over and due to the amount of traffic, you won't be able to rush out of there fast enough to flee the country.

Anyway, the only shopping we really did today involved a lot of browsing in the Plaza. It wasn't until we hit Legends outdoor mall that we actually started spending money-- aside from dishing out quite an amount for our expensive Cheesecake Factory lunch, which was part of the plan anyway.

At Legends, which is very conveniently located near the Hampton Inn we are staying at in Village West, we walked into lots of factory outlet stores and gleefully basked in the fact that everything was discounted. Signs indicating 30% off, 40% off and 60% off made it so much easier to shop guilt-free.

I am proud to announce that I managed to buy one button up sweater vest for a nicely discounted price from... *drumroll* Banana Republic. The very first item I have ever bought from that place because, well, let's face it, Banana Republic is a very expensive store and is way out of my price range. But I found something and I liked it very much and so I bought it. Yea, restraint wasn't so much in my mind at the time, but that's okay, I tell myself. We are here in KC to shop and spend money.

My friends weren't as lucky until we reached Wilson Leather, a place now extinct from the Wichta scene (unless there's one on the east side of town, but that means nothing to me if there is). More items were bought and then we wandered Legends more until we finally spent the last of our shopping for the day at Books-a-Million.

I've found another cute little children's fantasy to read: Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynn Jones. And also the sequel. All is right in the world-- I've been looking for that book anyway.

But to review:

Day 2: shopping and shopping. We did end up at an Arby's for a nice light dinner amidst the suddenly howling winds. Only in Kansas will the weather suddenly drop twenty degrees and threaten to thunderstorm while it had been nice and sunny only an hour before.

What else....? Ah, yes. Swimming, cold hotel room, and now rest for the night. Tomorrow will be another day of fun shopping.

Day 2 has gone quite well... although, I'm currently a little worried. Being that me and one of the girls came into this trip with a cold, I fear that we have passed on the sickness to our immunocompromised friend who hadn't been sick to begin with. Or maybe it was just cold after we left the pool and it's started to affect.

On a side note, I really like the location of the hotel we are staying at. It's in a very ideal location as this area of Village West includes a Wally World, a bunch of different restaurants and Legends outdoor mall. Too bad we can't get into Great Wolf Lodge-- it's right across the street from our hotel. It would be nice to maybe try to sneak in, but I guess that won't bode well with the staff there.

Day 1 of KC Trip - In which I prepare for the trip the night before we leave

I know the trip hasn't exactly started yet... and also, who wants who hear about every little thing I do during this little 3 day trip anyway, right?

But I haven't blogged much lately and thought I'd give my writing skills a little whirl this weekend. I used to keep a small notebook with me as a travel journal in the past whenever I went on vacation with the family. But whenever I whip it out and start writing something interesting I'd encountered that day or the day before, my mother would look at me and shake her head. She thinks it's crazy and she can't understand why I like keeping a travel journal.

I simply just like to write about things. Now if I could apply this particular passion for writing into those effing stories I'll never get to finish cause of my recent non-motivation, I'm set.

But anyway, back to the subject.

I've been sick the past few days, which figures since my friends and I have planned this trip for months. The hotel room is booked, some of our itinerary is set which includes the following:

1) Eat at Cheesecake Factory <-- #1 crucial thing to do
2) Go shopping
3) Go shopping
4) Go shopping
5) Visit museums
6) Visit newly finished downtown

The list does not particularly have to be done in that order.

Yea, yea, I know. A bunch of girls going to KC for the shopping. There just happen to be stores in KC that are not in Wichita.

But anyway, as for my cold, my friends should be happy to know that it won't stop me from going on our trip. After the first sign of a runny nose, I started taking medicine. Since this morning, I spent the day snacking on various things just so my body would have the energy to fight. I slept for a few hours after getting home, packed my bag and now I can say that, besides feeling extremely tired, I'm probably better.

Now as tothe question of packing...

It hasn't been until today that I happened to realize just how petty I've become in the area of clothing. For those who used to know me, or who know me today, I don't come off as an image conscious person. Some of my friends have changed that immensely. Whereas I used to throw on any article of clothing I could find that was clean and looked decent, now I actually contemplate what I need to wear for at least ten minutes before throwing on something that doesn't stand out and retain's my reputation of being non-image conscious while showing off some form of casual/preppy fashion. And then I end up putting on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans anyway.

When I started packing tonight, I suddenly realized that I've managed to make an extremely large pile of clothing suitable for a week-long trip. We're only going to Kansas City for three days... two and a half, at most, and most of Friday morning will be spent driving and I will be dressed in a comfy extra-large t-shirt and comfy jeans.

And so I went about trying to eliminating things from my pre-planned packing. It's unfortunate that I've now developed the mindset of: "Well, what if I want to wear something like this." And so the shirt goes back into the "going to KC" pile. Soon after that, as I hang up a button-up shirt I've taken out of my pile, I find another shirt in my closet that is just begging to spend the three hours going to KC. I've added every possible color of tank top that I own for wearing under outfits and I know that half the clothes I take will not be worn. Fortunately, I've narrowed my selection down to what seems to be five or six nice, going out shirts plus a three random t-shirts.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the amount of clothes I normally pack for a trip to Florida with my parents that lasts two weeks. I count the days we'll be on our trip, I put that many articles of clothing into my bag, and then I add about three more extra shirts in case I need an extra change of clothing.

Tonight, I have successfully packed for that very week-long trip.

On top of that, we are going shopping for clothing too.

*sigh*

I'm not sure when it happened that I became so image conscious, but it doesn't bode very well with my self-confidence. As opposed to the days back in high school where t-shirt and jeans were 90% of my wardrobe and I didn't even know what size I wore or how much I weighed, I've suddenly realized that today's me is actually kind of depressing.

No offense to those of you out there who DO give a damn about how you look daily, but I'm finding it kind of troublesome. It's not like I really have anyone to impress and my days are spent going to school, coming home, going to work, coming home, and well, just being a lazy hermit. The public doesn't see me long enough to pay attention that my shirt doesn't match my shoes or something like that.

I miss the old me.

Well, anyway, packing, packing... I'm still packing. I have three specific pairs of comfy jeans that are still in the dryer that I need to take with me, mostly because they are comfy. I still need to make sure I pack all the toiletries necessary and most important of all, I need to make sure that I pack my phone charger-- lately, my retarded cell phone has been running low on batteries only halfway through the day even if I don't use it. My old phone used to last two days before it died on me.

Crackberries are retarded smart phones. I'll never get another one and I'm in the process of looking for my old Nokia cause I really liked it a lot. Not that I'd be able to use it, though since my charger's broken.

Well, off to doing my laundry now so I have jeans to wear this weekend in KC. We leave early tomorrow morning! And while I'm never really one for leaving my house, I always look forward to some trips such as the family vacations we never take anymore due to schedule conflicts and this now traditional trip to KC with my girls.

Otherwise, I really just like being lazy and sitting around at home.

Bright and early tomorrow morning! To Kansas City we go!

A tale of crawlies

There's a rather small spider that has made it's residence next to the front door of our house. It just kind of sits (or stands, or hangs, or whatever it does) on the wall. Every day I'd see it in a different place in that exact same area. And when I approach to put my shoes on, since that is where our shoes are all congregated, it just remains completely still as if it could blend in with its surroundings.

But I can still see it. It's there, just hanging out. For at least two weeks, it hasn't gone anywhere else but that one area of wall right next to the doorway.

Typically, when I see a spider, it's usually crawling upwards on a wall somewhere right next to my desk in the basement room. And my first reaction is, as always, to utterly exterminate the cretin without hesitation. Grab the bug spray, spray away, then when it plummets a few feet to the carpet where it may or may not be wriggling in the pain of being poisoned by man-made legal murder of animals, I take a rather large sheet of paper towel, crumple it up and then flush it down the toilet.

I'm a scaredy cat when it comes to creep crawlies, even if I don't show it. From experience, when I see them, my reaction isn't slow, but rather my reactions are always begun with a simple, "Remain calm, act tough, if you freak out, you'll just lose sight of it."

Not too long ago, maybe sometime last year, I got to work, probably walked right through a spider web and contracted the resident living there. My co-worker saw it, freaked out, and excitedly pointed out that there was a spider crawling on my shoulder.

"Okay," I told her.

"Hang on, I'll get it off," she tells me. She so grabs some papers and swats at me. Lo and behold, she swats in the wrong direction and instead of falling to the ground it goes down my shirt. And she screams as much, "It went down you shirt!"

"Okay," I say to her. And without jumping or screaming, I calmly reach into my shirt, turn my collar out to find the darn thing and gently swat it away from me and onto the ground. Now I don't quite remember what happened to it next. It could have crawled away, I could have squashed it, or it could have just disappeared behind the table.

But that was when I realized that I could be quite calm when dealing with a spider crawling down my shirt and I was rather impressed with myself. And from that day on, whenever I see spiders, I don't get jumpy like I used to back in high school, but I remain calm and decide the best way to extinguish it. It's just easier so that you don't lose sight of it when you freak out.

But back to the spider on the wall next to my front door.

Yea, it's still there. I don't know why it's still there. I'm surprised that no one else in the house has seen it yet. I've caught the smell of bug spray every so often and wondered if my mother had killed it. But this morning when I stepped downstairs and walked through our tiny receiving area, I noticed that the little creature was still there, this time on the ceiling.

Why haven't I killed it? one may ask. Well, I don't really know. Lack of desire to kill it, probably. I didn't want to deal with it at first, mostly because I'd been in a hurry to get to work the first time I saw it. But afterwards, when it never moved from its spot, I just didn't have the motivation to off it when it's just sitting there and, well, hanging out.

Or maybe I'm just plain too lazy to off it and feel like it hasn't done anything to me, so why bother it.

Sooner or later, it'll probably get found my someone in my household. I don't know why it hasn't yet.

But for now, I just let it hang and actually find myself looking for it whenever I walk by to see if it's still there. And each and every time, it usually is, even if it's in a different spot.

Fun Times at the Bar and a lesson to all about bar etiquette

To tone down my previous emo blog, here's a fun little read.

I was bartender on Saturday night for a small wedding and did quite well with it on tips. Enough to last me a couple lunches for the next two weeks. I spent the entire evening shaking up my version of a Sex on the Beach mixed drink and dunking my fingers into cherries, as it is what I use as garnish for that particular drink. So when I got home that night, my fingers were stained red.

Interesting times.

Apparently Sex on the Beach was quite popular. I don't know how many times I'd made the drink the entire night, but I know that it should have been a little over fifty of them, or more, even. Otherwise, there were sparse requests for "what kind of shots do you know how to make?" of which the answer was, "I'm sorry, I really don't know any fun shots." And then there was the usual, rum and cokes, vodka cranberries, and a mostly import beer.

I have to admit that I like bartending. It's fun... but I don't like socializing. It requires a certain type of skill that I don't have. It's called talking to people, randomly, with smiles, and without being a bore. I'm not good at that. I can barely talk to my own friends with smiles and without being a bore. But it's okay, because I'm not trying to sell THEM anything or trying to earn tips from them.

But anyway, the night was quite fruitful. When people get drunk enough, they really probably don't care that their bartender is scowling or frowning. They just see the liquor. Quite awesome.

On a side note, I about got pummelled by a 27 year old woman who took great offense at the fact that I needed to see her ID to confirm that she was indeed old enough to drink. She threw a fit. She went to her husband and she demanded that we overlook it. Her husband tried to vouch for her, but you know, a policy is a policy.

"But she's my wife and she's twenty-seven," he insisted.

"Tell them," she urged, practically pouting. I could almost see steam coming out of her ears and her face turning red.

We could only continue to say, "If you don't have your ID, we can't serve you. Sorry."

Begrudgingly, she left the room so that she could go and get her driver's liscence from her car. She was not happy and when she returned, she practically shoved the ID in my face like I was her mortal enemy.

My boss kept telling me that when she returned, I'd have to apologize profusely and simply repeat that we have to card everyone and that it's actually a compliment to be carded. I simply nodded, but conveniently forgot to apologize for asking for her ID.

You come to a bar and want a drink. You look rather young, it's a given that you'll get carded. I'm not going to apologize for doing my job. At least four other women were extremely ecstatic that I carded them and thanked me and tipped me big for it.

For anyone out there who don't understand or who like to make problems for bartenders, please don't. You don't know how much is left in the bartender's responsibility, both morally and legally. If someone underage is being served, it's the bartender's fault-- and it doesn't matter whether or not the bartender had served that underage person in the first place. It could have been a hand-off from someone else who was old enough to procure the alcoholic beverage for said minor.

If there is an accident involving alcohol, the bartender who last served that person is legally at fault. Because a bartender is morally bound to know when to stop serving their extremely inebriated customers. Again, it doesn't matter if someone else came to the bartender to buy a drink and then followed by handing it over to the already 0.45 BAC, completely drunk individual.

The bartender has been told that he/she is morally obligated to make the right decision when serving customers.

It's not fair. I don't like it. You can't control other people. But the burden always comes back to the bartender.

So I implore people: if you are asked for you ID at any place that serves alcohol, don't get offended. It's not to make things hard on you, it's policy and its the law. You can call it a means to save our own asses under legal obligation because it really is. Take it as a compliment. We are subject to ask for identification if someone does not look like he or she is over the age of thirty. If you are asked for your ID, then that means you look young enough to get carded.

I'm twenty-five years old. When I don't get carded, that's when I get offended... but only playfully.

Please don't make things any harder. Don't shoot the messenger. Legal dealings and actions are at stake. We are only doing our jobs.

Secondly, don't keep pestering the bartender about adding "just a little more alcohol" to your drink. Depending on the place, a company policy may or may not be controlling how much alocohol is mixed into a drink, depending on how much it is worth to the company. If we give you more, we get in trouble and the extra money has to come out of our own pockets. If you want a double shot, be willing to pay for the extra shot. If you think the alcohol is too expensive, then don't buy any.

In hospitality, we work to appease, but only within reason.

In summary:

When you are carded, don't get offended and don't take out your anger on the person carding you. It's a compliment. I'm always ready to be carded. And who comes up to a bar without ID anyway-- I don't think the laws have changed just because you're at a hotel and you're attending a friend's wedding. Bars card everywhere.

When you go to a bar, don't pester the bartender... remmeber who's mixing your drink.

To add onto it... we don't tell you how to run your life, so don't tell us how to do our jobs. We are trained.

And while I'm on the subject, sneaking alcohol into a bar has always been a no-no. You don't go to a restaurant and bring your own food, so don't come into a bar and bring your own alcohol. What's the point?

I especially love the ones who bring their own cans of Bud Light when there is free beer at the bar. At those, I really just laugh. Funny people.

Emo moments come so often when you're a jerk

I'm losing it. And I'm a horrible person. And if you've got better things to do than to hear me rant it out about my selfishness, you might as well just stop here. Seriously, no one needs to see this ugly side of me. But if you wish to continue, just bear with me.

It's very simple. I think I'm beginning to lose my grasp on "giving a damn" about a lot of things and a lot of people. I have no compassion for people, no matter who it is. Sure, I can be a friendly person-- I've spent my entire life being a very pleasantly friendly person. I treat others with respect and I maintain that as long as I don't wrong others, they will not wrong me.

I've spent my entire life being the obedient daughter, a kind sister, a caring friend... But I'm not quite sure where that's leading me.

My friends are great. I will not deny that. They listen, they care, and they don't turn their backs on me. I'm eternally grateful, because without them, I would never be able to escape from everything else.

But at home, things are so much different.

I've spent my childhood being a filial child. Whenever mom and dad say jump, I really do say "how high?" I don't talk back, I do as I'm told, and I try so, so, so, so, so hard to please them on many, many occasions. I do my best in school, try to make good grades, clean house, clean my room, do my laundry, babysit.

But what does all of that mean in the end?

I means that Dad can march right up to me and tell me that I never help out around the house. It means that Dad can come to me and tell me that I need to start thinking about others, mainly my mother, and start helping her with the cooking and cleaning. It means that, in contrast, my brothers can sit around all effing day long, watch movies, play on their computers, and no one ever questions that. It means that my dad would rather not trouble my brothers to mow the lawn or help put together a bookshelf and so he'll do it himself while giving me a disappointed look every so often because I didn't volunteer my help. It means that if I don't initiate help around the house, I'm a horrible daughter, but my brothers don't even have to lift a finger and still be their pride and joys.

That's what it all means.

Every year I'm the one who goes out and buys the Christmas cards, birthday cards, Mother's day, Father's day, and any other fine occasion. It's because I'm thinking of my parents and I want to give them something and yet I don't have the money to buy them anything fancy. A card tells them that I'm thinking about them.

But my brother can come home one time and buy them a 22 inch flat screen television and they're bragging about it all over town. My brother can treat them to dinner just that one time in five years and they're beaming with pride.

I know I have no right to complain. I'm spoiled. I live at home without worries of paying rent or bills. My parents will flaunt the fact that I have a Bachelor's degree to some people. My parents will supply daily necessities for my use. My parents will foot the bill for everything that I need.

I'm ashamed to say that I'm still unsatisfied. Maybe I shouldn't be saying things like that. I'm a spoiled rotten child. I don't live on the streets and I don't have to shop at economy stores for anything.

Maybe I'm just trying to find a reason vent my frustration that I've never been the favorite child. Maybe I'm just trying to make a reason for myself to become angry with someone. Maybe I'm just giving myself a justification for how irrationally incompassionate I am about people.

Because, frankly, when it comes to situations wherein one should show a bit of feeling... I just don't really give a damn.

My dad's been organizing and reorganizing and cleaning the basement all morning. I haven't bothered to lend a helping hand. And on top of that, it's driving me crazy that somehow, he's still managing to find things to do that's making a racket... as if he's telling me, "This is not my job. This is your job. You should be cleaning the house as the only girl in this family. But instead of telling you to your face, I'm just going to make noises and hope that you feel like a bad daughter for not even bothering." Yea... that's what I'm hearing. Am I crazy? Well, let's not answer that question, cause we already know the answer.

The last draw would have been when my brother came to me to tell me that my father has been bitching about household funds to him. Apparentely, my brother (who makes much more money than me regularly) thinks that I should pay back my parents what money I've borrowed for school as soon as I can, while I'm still trying to pay off the rest of my school on my meager servant's salary of $2.35/hour plus gratuities that may or may not amount to about a hundred dollars biweekly per pay check.

He thinks that I should NOT be borrowing money from my parents for school. I didn't want to tell him that I've paid for all of my school on my own except for two thousand dollars of which I really needed to complete last semester's tuition payment. I didn't want to tell him that between me and the rest of my lovely brothers, I probably borrow the least amount of money from mom and dad.

And I didn't want to tell him that Dad's been bitching to me about house hold finances since the first time my brother's credit card debt amount came in to perspective.

It's not all me, kid. If you feel like you need to repay our parents, you go right ahead. I have no money right now. Leave me out of it. When I finally land myself a good job, of which I have all the confidence I will, then I'll start handing over checks to my parents monthly, just like my elder brother does.

I'm not a moocher, even if I am a bitch and asshole. I will do my part.

But do not come to me an demand that I pay back a percentage of what I've borrowed from the parents. Because in which case, let my just go out to that magical little money tree and harvest it for a couple hundred dollars. Right?

I'm done. My apologies to anyone who has made it this far. I'm just done.