R-E-S-P-E-C-T

have you ever had one of those days/nights at work when you can feel every second tick by painfully slow?

quite frankly i think it's really disrespectful when a bartender says they are closed (at 11pm FYI) and that they already gave last call and people sit there and argue with them about how it's memorial day weekend and that the bar should be open until at least 12 blah blah blah. i stayed open for this same group until 2:30AM last night. and they have the gall to argue with me about closing time being 11, then sit in my bar until 11:45 ANYWAY and i still dont get out of work until 12:30. people like them should be damned to a bartending purgatory of never ending last calls where no one will listen when they say it's closing time.

last night i was also lucky enough to witness a young couple in the beginning stages of their budding romance makeout in front of me (they were sitting at the bar --in front of my register) and say things to each other like "what's your favorite movie?" or my personal favorite, "what's your favorite color" and "i have nothing to complain about your body, your body's perfect"

i had to swallow my vomit on more than one occasion

art school is way too pretentious.

apartamento disastero

this is what my apartment looks like right now.
it's finals, in case you were wondering.

seriously

so i just had a critique for my documentary class, and it went really well as they all have all quarter. the professor says things to me like, "Really great work" so on and so forth. So then when i stayed after for 5 minutes to ask a question, i find out he thinks my work is some of the weakest in the class. thank you, for telling me NOW after you JUST told me (literally minutes prior to this conversation) my series was GREAT. that i was GOOD TO GO. thank you for telling me i need to include people after the ENTIRE CLASS edited all of my people images out, and you said NOTHING. thank you for letting it slip out randomly at the end of class. thank you for your honesty. FINALLY.

it's pretty shocking i can no longer stand the photo department.

relief

i am happy to report that the surgery of one of my most favorite people in the world went really well. the surgeons in houston deserve a high five.

this is what i am currently working on for my personal vision class.

so basically i am going insane.

why i hate my Personal Vision class:

-there are at least four critiques every class. this is incredibly exhausting.

-people say things like "i'm going for more of an asexual-sexual feel with my work" and everyone thinks that this statement is an accurate description of models wearing t-shirts and no underwear. pictures of genitals can never be asexual. come on now.

-the professor tends to only find huge loop holes in your concept if she doesn't fully understand where your work is going, if you are her groupie, the most obvious loop holes disappear into the great unknown

-people pick apart your work to look good to the professor, and everyone jumps on whatever bandwagon she is on

-conversations go around and around and i feel like nothing is ever truly gained through the commentary.

-did i mention this guy i kinda dated is in the class? oh yeah, incredibly awkward.

craziness

one of my favorite people in the world is going into surgery tomorrow, or i guess technically today, at 6 AM. please pray for her.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

a night to do laundry and shower and have a really nice glass of chianti.

sue-prize, sue-prize

i do...
in fact...



wear shorts.

ya know G-O-D?

God keeps taking care of me and its pretty weird.
not that this is anything new, but things have been pretty rough lately.

it's like he keeps telling me he isn't going anywhere.

bar etiquette, whether you like it or not

so just so you all know, in case you were wondering, which im sure you were:

1. when a bartender tells you she doesn't have any peanuts, continuously asking for them doesn't change the fact that she REALLY doesn't have any. do you think i'm hoarding them to be a bitch? seriously, you have to ask yourself, what is in it for me to not give them to you, huh? nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. i have to hear you ask again and again for them and then whine about not having them. trust me, if i had them the first thing i would want to do is give them to you to shut you up.

2. if you are in that stage in a romantic relationship when you are oblivious to the world and obsessed with each other and cant take your hands off each other, don't sit at the bar. i'm not saying this because i'm bitter and jealous. i'm all for couples. i've had wonderful relationships and some of the best conversations with couples. all couples get a high five. woo hoo for couples. but seriously, it is really awkward when i am trapped behind the bar and you keep kissing and i am doing everything in my power to give you privacy, but you sat at my bar in front of me. so there is no where i can go. get a table, please, and save us all a lot of awkwardness and hatred.

3. FYI whiskey is both bourbon and scotch. so when i say, "would you like that with scotch" and you say, "no whiskey" we are going to go around and around forever. let's just say if you are going to be particular about a drink order you should at least know what it is you are drinking.

4. last but not least, do not hand me your credit card to start a tab with then say you dont want me to hold on to it. what would you like me to do with it? "ohh nice card. very pretty. just by looking at it i can tell you will not stiff me for the drinks you just ordered." what do you think starting a tab means? i understand that you don't want me to steal your credit card information, but i'm sorry to say, as soon as you make an actual purchase, i have access to it. it has nothing to do with me having it in my possession. if you really want to protect your identity, don't use a credit card.

i'm sick of drunk people. is it obvious?

my boy shaun

always good to see my boy toy in glossy print.

my parents & the almighty dollar

i have spent $370. 60 since the beginning of may on school supplies. this is not including my rent, or my food, or my utilities, i.e. this is not including the amount of money i have to spend to survive here. this is why, mom and dad, i have to work so much, since this seems to be so puzzling to you both. you want me to spend the money to come and see you, but you dont want me to work so much. quite the paradox.

i think you once told me that money doesnt grow on trees...

i feel like i'm going to vomit

i want a day off.
i want to go for a run.
i want to not go to school or to work.
i want one day when i dont feel like a disaster.

a guy at work asked if i had a boyfriend.
when i said "no"
he said "really? what's wrong with you? are you crazy or something?"

i'm beginning to think maybe i am.
it does run in the family.

what im trying really hard to read.

the fifteen pages i have read have been really good.




i wish i had a life.

workin' it

things i am tired of talking about with random old people:
where i am from,
what brought me
to savannah,
where i go to school,
what i am studying,
what my plans are after i graduate. and just so people know:
sleep. thats my plan. i plan on sleeping and sewing aprons.
all of my dreams now include pouring drinks and messing up people's tabs. i am at work even when i am asleep.
last night i spilled drinks on this group of teachers from high schools around the country checking out what SCAD has to offer. did i do this subconsciously?? that has yet to be determined.

ADDENDUM: people are annoying with their drink orders. case in point: do you make a good bloody mary? this isnt a question. this is a "if you dont make me agood drink i will not tip you" threat. and it makes me want to make it with my saliva, which i could never actually do but seriously... give me a break. of course my drinks are good. they contain your current drug of choice, alcohol.