A Conversation with Rachel

You really should read my last post, "Dude, Where's My Job?" before proceeding.

Tuesday:

"Thank you for calling [Name of Restaurant] in Provo. This is Rachel. How may I help you?"

(All right! Rachel is an awesome and hilarious girl!)

"Yeah, Hi Rachel, this is [Smurf's real name]. I'm just calling to make sure I don't work tonight."

"Oh, hey, Smurf. You actually do work tonight."

"WHAT! You're freaking kidding me!"

"Haha, yeah, you're not scheduled to work. But actually the manager DID have me call your phone just now to see if you could work for Erin tonight."

"Oh, sorry, I have plans."

(The plans are watching a movie with Shoebox and the rest, but she doesn't need to know that.)

"So you can't work tonight?"

"No. Sorry."

"And why NOT?"

"Well, I'm meeting with some other students."

(technically true, right?)

"Oh, and why couldn't you have done that yesterday when you weren't coming in to work even though you were scheduled?"

"Well, I just found out about it."

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. I bet."

"Right. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It MEANS that I don't believe you. ESPECIALLY after what you tried to pull yesterday."

"All right, all right. I feel bad enough about that as it is. I don't need YOU rubbing it in."

"Well I don't know who else is gonna rub it in for you."

"Dude, why are you giving me all this sass? And what's with this sassy accent? Why are you trying to sound black or something?"

"What do you MEAN why am I trying to sound black? I AM black!"

(Oh crap. This is my manager, and has been for about a minute now.)

"Oh, crap."

"What you say 'Oh, crap' for?"

(Time to change tactics and apply some counter-sass.)

"Listen, woman, if you're gonna just grab the phone away and switch who I'm talking to, you best TELL a body. 'Cause Here I am all this time thinking I'm still talking to Rachel."

"Well? That ain't my fault! I tell you what, you pull this crap again I'ma fire your butt. And also, I don't even love you anymore."

"Sad. Well, I still love you."

"That's right you do. I just saved your job; you BEST be loving me."

"Oh, I do."

"You need anything else?"

"No, I'm good."

(I'm playing the meek card by now.)

"You need me to check your schedule tell you when you're coming in next?"

"Yes ma'am."

"All Right. You're closing cash with me tomorrow."

"Oh, man. I'm so glad it's you and not David. He doesn't do a very good job and we end up staying forever."

"Yeah, you just watch, I'ma have you outta here by 11:45 at the latest. At the LATEST."

"Oh, I know it. Everyone knows you're the best manager to close with."

"That's RIGHT I'm the best manager to close with. Which is why I love you again."

"You're the best, Alecia."

"I know it. See you tomorrow, and have fun at your made-up study group."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

*Click*

"Phew!"

Dude, Where's My Job?

Well, I woke up a bit late today, but that was all right because I'm off work until Wednesday. I did some stuff, and then around 1:00 I got a call from work. They wanted me to come in and work untill 4. I said I would be there in a while. Then I lollygagged and painted monkeys for about an hour and finally went in. When I got there, my big brassy sassy manager was giving me this look that you can only give if you are a black woman or have extra joints in your neck.

I decided I'd better say something. "What?" I said with a level of attitude intended to match hers. I didn't come even close.

"Where have you been?" I think she has a ball and socket in there.

"Sorry," I said, with ostensible sheepishness. "--"

Yeah, that's as far as I got. "Sorry!? I hope you were in the back of an ambulance or something! You better have REAL good story about why you missed the first two and a half hours of your shift!"

Luckily, I'm pretty good at math. "Wait a minute. I only got the call an hour and a half ago."

"Yeah, and you were supposed to be here an hour before THAT."

....

Soon she had me convinced. I had actually been scheduled to work this morning, and must have written down my schedule incorrectly.

After the tongue-scourging, she made me sign a probationary form. This was a piece of paper that informed me that should I be more than five minutes during the next thirty days, they can fire me. I assume it meant five minutes late, but I didn't want to press my luck by asking. It made me sad to fill out the form, but I'm sure I can be on time for a month. I made a whopping six dollars in tips after that, but after a while I was done and as I was leaving to come home, my boss told me she still liked me anyway, and just had to give me the sass because it's part of her job. That was nice.

Anyway, I conducted FHE tonight since they're redoing the groups, so I just decided to do my own thing with the few people I have met in the new ward. We played do you love your neighbor. Which was fun.

At least, it was fun until I got a phone call from work, asking me why I wasn't there for my second shift. Um, whoops. I guess I forgot to check before I left. Who knows what will happen next? That wasn't exactly the best feeling, you know? I keep meaning to ask Toasteroven and Pa Grape for a blessing. I don't know why I thought I could start school without one. Anyway, if you readers out there care at all, send a prayer for my job up to Heaven along with all your own problems, please. I'll need a bunch, I think.

Smurfs are Blue

Well, I haven't answered a single question since the Board went down. And I haven't updated my blog. And I wasn't really going to until the Board was back up. But today I read Still Struggling's post about becoming addicted to our blogs, so I guess I'd better put something up. And while I don't feel like writing anything, maybe I'll just let my little Smurf friends have a go at it. This is one Poet Smurf wrote.


One Morning

I peeled the sun and took a bite
And threw us into frozen night
So we could sneak around and play
(We never could by light of day)
Through static yards and neighborhoods
And into black inviting woods.

I grabbed the clouds and pulled the drain
To let out all the drippy rain
So I could hold your hand and run
Without the awful glare of sun
Through walls of rain so shiny wet
To wash our brain so we forget.

I took a deep breath just for fun
And blew the stars out one by one
So we could lie in solid black
With only dark beneath our back
Through years of brightest pain behind
But missing all because we’re blind.

--Poet


A.A. Melyngoch said it sounded like a Barenaked Ladies song. Shoebox would be proud, I'm sure. Oh, and Poet just stopped by, and he wants me to point out the pun in the title. I'm starting to become A.A. Milne, writing at my desk with all my imaginary friends coming by and critiquing what I've written about them. But I'm never so clever. Ever.

Remember the Titan

I hope everybody's just as excited as I am for January 14. That's the day when Huygens lands on Titan! We're finally going to find out what's under the mist! Well, if everything goes right, that is. Maybe we'll find out why it's the only moon in the solar system with a dense atmosphere. I was thinking about throwing a Titan party on that day, but it would seem a bit anticlimactic, I think, since we'd have to wait for the images and data to be sent back, and then for scientists to interpret them. And then I'd be surprised if it even got a three-second mention on the 11 O'clock News that night. At any rate, this landing is furthest from Earth ever. Join me on the 14th in at least sending a smile Saturnward as we think about the great scientific event going on up there. After all, it took $3.27 billion dollars to sate those scientists' curiosities. And again, that's if everything goes right.

The Veil is Thin

Well, I was going to tell this story anyway, but since Novel Concept brought it up, here's the story of my discovery of my toaster oven:

I honestly didn't even know that the words "toaster oven" referred to something other than a toaster. I thought it was just a midwestern or old-people way of saying the same thing. Then one day a few weeks ago I had Uffish Thought and Novel Concept over at my house and Uffish Thought noticed my toaster oven, and commented on his/her jealousy of it. I was astounded. I'd noticed that something was there on the counter during the several months I'd been living there. From time to time I'd probably even looked at it. I'd never really paid too much attention, though. Over the next few days, I kept going into the kitchen and looking at it. Sometimes I'd tamper with it inquisitively, like when a monkey or raccoon stumbles upon a piece of modern technology, like a watch or laser gun. "How does it work?" I wondered. Eventually I put in some bread. It was great! I tried a bagel. Also great! I found myself trying all sorts of things in there. Everything came out so crispy and delicious. I no longer would need to plug in my Char-B-Cue every time I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich! So my question is why didn't I know about these appliances when I was growing up? Why am I just now discovering the toaster oven a year into college? And four months of being exposed to it on a daily basis? I guess I should just look forward to the time I have ahead of me, and not regret the time I've missed. That is my whole story for today.

Night of the Phoenix

Phoenix and I hung out tonight. We decided to see Ocean's Twelve, since my headwound has mostly healed (I got it this time, too!). So we were just chilling at his apartment answering questions on his multiple computers before the show, and we decided to get some strawberry ice cream to make milkshakes. So we went to the Creamery on 9th. CLOSED! We tried the freshman creamery. CLOSED! We tried the Wymount creamery. ALSO CLOSED! (That's supposed to be read aloud in a voice like the buzzer that tells you you're wrong on Family Feud. Go back and do it now with the voice.) So we decided to stop and see why the Moroni on the temple doesn't point east to answer an upcoming question. Phoenix had a theory that it DOES point east, but the mountains and streets are not exactly cardinally aligned. Unfortunately, he forgot his compass. So we got out of the car so I could find Polaris. It wasn't cloudy, but the lights of the temple were so bright they blocked most of the stars. I found Cassiopeia and Orion, but I couldn't even find the big dipper. There were two stars near the horizon that could have been the end of the handle, but my glasses are too old to be able to see whether the second one in was a binary star (Mizar and Alkor). So as far as we could tell, from the temple, the North Star is behind a mountain. Anyway, Phoenix is going to go back with the compass. So then we went to the creamery at Wyview. LIKEWISE CLOSED! So we went to Macey's. And we found strawberry ice cream for $1.50. At this point I realized I'd put my money in my pocket BEFORE I'd changed my pants, so I told Phoenix he'd have to buy it. We got in line and put it on the black rubber conveyor belt, but then Phoenix remembered he'd left his wallet on the floor next to his couch. We ended up driving all the way to my place and then to his and then we were back at Macey's.

As we were walking back down the freezer aisle, Phoenix said, "Oh, I just remembered my emergency $20 in the car!"

So I said, "Oh, man, I was going to ask if you had any change in the ashtray or anything."

Then HE said, "Oh, man, I DO have tons of money in my ashtray!"

So after four creameries and two trips to Macey's those were destined to be the best freaking milkshakes ever experienced by humankind, right? Well, they were all right, I guess.

Actually, I was pretty unimpressed.

What a wonderful world

Today was such a great day. I hung out with my two newest friends, and it was fantastic. In the words of Horatio the great, "that is all."

My Native Cheery Temperament.

Sometimes I feel bad about feeling so good all the time.

Don't get me wrong; my life has its challenges, and I've been through a lot af rather serious crap. It's just that that stuff never seems to get me down for too long. My default is set to "cheerful," I think. I know what you're thinking now: He just suppresses those negative feelings. I promise it's not like that, though. I never swing to the other end of the pendulum or get depressed or anything. My dad and my grandma are the same way. They both seem to approach life with a certain uncommon zeal.

So why should I be unhappy with this inexplicable happiness? Well, it makes things a bit awkward for me in a few different circumstances.

Sometimes I'm talking to people who have had similar trials to mine. They all seem pretty depressed about it. I feel like they feel like I'm rubbing something in their faces by being happy in spite of the situation.

Also, I have several friends who struggle with depression, and I fear (and have been told) that I come off insensitive to their feelings. It's true that I don't put much stock in feelings (other than the fruits of the spirit), but I have to admit that the only times I truly feel sad are the times when someone I care about is sad, and I can't fix it, and I can't even sympathize with it. Those are some of the saddest times of my life. It's true that I was sad when I had to come home sick from my mission, but even that was easier because I am used to accepting bad things that happen to me as the Lord's will. I was over that in about a day or two. But I can't accept my friends being so miserable that I can't reach them. I wish I could find some way to dive into the muck with them, but I can't. I'm just so dang happy all the time.

Like right now, after twelve and a half hours at work, I'm sitting here typing and smilin' to myself like a little boy whose teacher doesn't know about the frog in the boy's pocket. Just loving life. I just don't feel justified in doing so, when there are so many sad people out there. Oh, well. At least everyone believes it's just a facade.

Rugged or Overrated? II

Well, it's time to rate some more aspects of life. Here we go:

Pennies: overrated. They make your hands smell funny, and you can't buy ANYTHING with them.
Cats (the musical): overrated. Freaky cat people. Now, that's my cup of tea. And I'm Mormon, so I don't drink tea.
Halo: overrated. What better way for six sickly slackers to waste up to ten hours every day for their entire tweenage lives?
Napa: rugged! And beautiful!
Ginger Altoids: rugged! Wiggle got me some for Christmas!
Alzheimer's Disease: overrated. And terribly frightening.
The Hogan Family: rugged!
Roy talking to me: overrated. And how!
Forever Plaid: rugged! Unless you're on a date with Mary Davidson.
Chiropractors: rugged! Hook me up to that electric thingus any day.
Duct Tape: rugged! I make hats and clothes out of it. I have camo duct tape.
Sloth: overrated as both a sin and an animal, rugged as a Goonies character.
Double Double: rugged! Animal style, no pickles, plus raw onions, extra ketchup.
Seafood: overrated. And it comes from the sea.
Swearing: overrated. Sometimes funny, but always overrated.
Mirrors: overrated. I always avoid looking into them, except for when I'm getting ready in the morning.
Redwall: rugged! I, am that is.
Buster Keaton: rugged! Okay, I can't really remember who that is.
Aluminum foil: overrated. It doesn't hurt my teeth, but it sure drove my wrists and head nuts when I tried to go as a knight for Halloween.
Periwinkle: overrated. Give me a nice cerulean or cornflower any day.
Mace Windu: rugged. Well, he has rugged potential. He'd better do something cool in the next movie. Like kill Jar-Jar.

Thanks again to James Evans, who will likely never read this. I mean, it's mostly just mocking his limited vocabulay. And now I sleep, for there is church tomorrow, and I imagine Phoenix will be picking me up in about five and a half hours. Ah, rugged, rugged sleep.

Saintly Appliance

Toasteroven is one of the best people I know. Through and through. I knew I liked him, but I had no idea his friendship would be so good for me. I can't go into specifics, but I really just like the guy. He's so much wiser than I gave him credit for being, which was pretty wise. That makes me excited to get to know the other one better, too, because that's the same feeling I get from her. That's all, today. Tomorrow we'll talk about my brother's phone call, and the Drama Queen. This is not interesting to anyone else, is it? My friend Chris wrote a song called, "I rock so hard your pants blow off," and a sequel, "I rock so hard old people explode," and yet a third installment called, "I rock so hard your water breaks." That's how Toateroven rocks.