Thursday, May 29, 2003

I'm Still Alena From the Block

Well, well. Seems I passed the Google test.. some weirdo visited my site after searching for "photos of my ex's pussy". Whether the pussy is of feline variety or not is left up to the imagination, and interestingly enough, the search doesn't turn up much of either. If you're interested in random links and websites, visit this search.

I know some people may have trouble with the number of large images I've posted on the site, so I've created a photo gallery where I'll put pictures, if I've got more than one to share at a time. Rose brought in her digital camera today and we stealthily snapped a few photos. We were attempting to capture The Rob on camera, but he wasn't working today. Blast. Well, we'll both have to try to ambush him tomorrow and see what we can come up with. Seriously, it's become a mission to bring to you, my dear readers, what The Rob really looks like.

Tonight at work was pretty sucky. We were fairly dead all evening, but they wouldn't let anyone on my side go because everyone was convinced this huge rush would come in at about 9. Apparently, the high schools have been graduating and then going out to eat fairly late, ending up with the remaining servers being slammed. So the managers were determined no one on our side would be cut until the rush hit.

That meant we spent a fair amount of time goofing off, particularly those of us in Hell (a.k.a. the smoking and quasi-smoking sections). I did get stiffed on my first table, whose check was $45 and the lady had made us sing to her bastard son. I don't get people, seriously. I mean, yeah, if she'd left me a buck, I'd be cheesed off, but to leave me nothing at all? What the hell is that about?

The rest of my tables were varying degrees of cheap and average, nothing terribly noteworthy. Other than my lesbian table. Let me just say right now that I have a gift when it comes to working my gay tables. It may be because there's not much of a gay population here (though everyone swears there are more gays per capita than anywhere in the U.S.), and what population there is has to be kind of closeted about it. Therefore, when gay people run into each other around here, it's usually a pretty instant recognition. Like when I had my hair really short, I'd be in Wal-Mart and run into a dyke and get the I know you're gay look.

So it's a definite opportunity to be more friendly, to joke around more, to get to know them a bit better than usual.. an opportunity for me to provide sincere, good service and know that I'll be rewarded for my efforts. That my work is recognized. I'm not saying every gay table tips me great, but I do think the majority of my tips from this portion of our guests is better than usual.

I jump on the chance to have a lesbian table. I know it sounds crazy, but I do exceptionally well, plus it's fun. For one, it allows me an opportunity to flirt with women, which, around here, is something I rarely get to do. Hell, I'd enjoy it if a cute lesbian waitress flirted with me.. and hell yeah, her tip would be better than average.

So I got this table tonight of two women and a man. One of the women was older than the other two, possibly in her 40's, as her hair was graying a bit. I thought she was very attractive, and I was about 95% sure she was gay. The other woman, I couldn't pin down either way, but I did have my suspicions.. The older woman sat next to the man, who, along with the other woman, seemed to be in his early-to-mid-thirties. I couldn't figure out what their relationship was to each other.. if they were all just friends, if the younger man and woman were a couple, or if the man and older woman were. I tried to look for a ring on her finger because I was curious, but I never did get a glimpse of that hand.

I had a lot of fun with the folks at this table.. talking to and joking around with them. They were very open and receptive to my sense of humor, which admittedly is not for everyone, especially full-strength. I was pretty pleased when the older woman took my suggestion of a cappuccino instead of a regular coffee, showing she has taste. She even further showed she had taste when she answered that she didn't want whipped cream on it because she didn't want to 'ruin it'. I mentioned she was attractive, yes? I was even going to go a step further and see if she wanted cinnamon or cocoa powder on it.. but another table's food came out right when I was waiting for the cappuccino, and another server ended up grabbing it off the bar and bringing it out to me instead. Blast.

On a totally unrelated note, I guess Rose's membership thinger worked, cause she posted. We'll work on basic HTML and stuff. :)

Oh, and "the rush" everyone was talking about at work? A party of 15 came in at 8:45. That was "the rush". Woo.

EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN...(but some hurt worse than others!)

okay...I guess this is my maiden voyage...(my, my, and I haven't been a maiden for quite some time!) If this dosen't work, then it will prove my theory that my best work does go unseen, that everything I write goes off into mystery land with all of the missing socks, children, and lynx... if I only had a tub of cocoa butter...but that is another story altogether...

I must say, "If I only had a bowl of that big salad!" no...seriously...

let's see how this goes...

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

New Toys

No, not those kinds of toys. However, I do have a couple new things for you guys to play around with. Some message boards and a poll (see bottom left of page). I'm a poor person, so I apologize for the ads on everything. I can't afford to actually buy any of it, but it's fun to play around with!

I don't want to have one of those sites where there's tons of crap crammed into one spot.. it is kind of addicting, you know, the little applets and whatnot. I'll try to restrain myself to avoid that sort of thing from happening.

Rose is my new devoted reader, and you know, I'm glad somebody is reading this. In any case, she found this site called Tip20! and it's a resource site for all service industry people. It looks interesting, anyway.. and I do feel that this information needs to find its way to the general public, because they seem rather clueless about servers and waitstaff.

One of the FOH (Front of the House, i.e. bartenders, servers, and hosts) articles I found was about a server who'd written an article about how people she waited on treated her rudely. It brought up some key points that I think most people don't even realize because they've never waited tables. You know how Israel has a mandatory 2-year military service? I think this country should have a mandatory service where everyone works in a restaurant at least once. Once you do it, you will completely understand.

But if you're just looking in from the outside, appearances can be deceiving. What we do in the dining room -- looks easy, doesn't it? Looks like it doesn't take much, and just anyone could do it, right? Wrong. We make it look easy. We're professionals, and we do this every day. So of course it looks easy, we have tons of practice and the whole point is to make it seem effortless and smooth-running.

However, I don't think most people understand the level of energy and effort it takes to be a server. We have to move fast, lift, bend, twist, carry heavy trays, do quick math, juggle multiple tables and tasks, have a good memory, and be organized in order to get everything done in an efficient and timely manner. Add to this the fact that there's likely 10 or so servers on a side of the restaurant at any given time, so we have to do all of this and work around each other to avoid collisions and such.

It's a job that takes both physical and mental effort, and when you look at it that way, you can see why it's tiring. We work very hard, and the job is physically taxing. It's not an easy job, and it takes a certain amount of practice to get decent at it.

Which is why it's infuriating when people treat me as if I'm invisible, insignificant, or not worth speaking to. When people talk down to me, when they are condescending.. It's all I can do to not speak a piece of my mind. I'm an intelligent, interesting person, and I work hard. I may be serving you, but I am not your personal servant, butler, or slave. You are not worth more than me because I'm waiting on you.

A basic level of respect is all that I ask.

Tuesday, May 27, 2003


I check my blog traffic daily, using a free GoStats counter. One of the features is that it logs IP numbers so I can track (theoretically) who is coming to my site more than once. I went to check it today after a surge in my hits, but since most of my last 20 or so were the same IP number, I attribute the jump to Rose, who I think keeps checking back here for new dirt. Hi, Rose.

In any case, not long ago, I realized that Google links to me. Frabjous day! It's been interesting seeing the various searches people have used before clicking on my site, though most of them have to do with that Honda "Cog" commercial I posted a while ago. However, things just got juicier! A few hours ago, a person searching for hangings&hl=da&lr=&ie=UTF-8&start=30&sa=N (that's 'BDSM hangings' for those not fluent in URL gibbergabber) clicked on my link.

BDSM hangings?! I didn't even know what that was, before clicking on that search myself. You may also note that it's Danish Google, as opposed to regular old Google, meaning a kinky Dane visited my site. Yay!

Confused protesters? You be the judge.

News from work.. I am really hating my fucking job lately, let me tell you. I have a handful of decent tables a day, the rest are complete ignorant hilljacks. I have to bite back a sarcastic comment every time I hear the question "What kind of dressing is your house dressing?" Hi, people, this is an Italian restaurant.. what kind of dressing do you think it is?

I have never felt more desperate to move away from a particular area. To put it in perspective, Minnesota is the Garden of Eden compared to Parkersburg. I mean, they actually have theater and movies and culture, for god's sake. And gay people! They have gay people there -- lots of them, and they can be out! And even though I worked at a Crapplebee's in the 'ghetto', I don't think I ever dreaded the general customer population, as I do here. I mean, I was actually making a fair bit of money there.. course, I was working like 8 shifts a week, but the money was pretty good. I just "wasn't in love with Minnesota" so I moved to the armpit of the south, Virginia's bastard, inbred cousin, West Virginia.

I make really stupid decisions sometimes. So I'm stuck here now and I have to figure something out.. because I absolutely hate my job, I have no motivation to work extra or attempt to make more money. Work basically feels pointless. Even if I have a decent night and come out with 15% at the end, it feels completely thankless. Thankless because of the stupid fucking Parkersburg people I have to deal with daily.

Now, I generally like all of my coworkers and get along with them all pretty well. That's about the only portion of my job that feels rewarding to me in the least.. I can goof off and have fun with just about everyone I work with. Having fun at work is absolutely essential -- if I didn't, I would surely kill everyone in the restaurant and then myself directly afterward. It's the only thing that redeems this job right now. The money certainly isn't a driving factor since people around here don't know how to tip, nor is it having to answer the stupidest questions, and having to deal with rude and demanding people who aren't going to compensate me for my hard work.

I've become a bitter server and if I'm doing this job in ten years, you all have my permission to find me and put me out of my misery. This is not a career for me, nor will it ever be. I would surely lose my mind.

On the positive front, I have the fantastic news that both Jaime and annoying Mike quit. Let me shout another frabjous day! It all must have happened on one of my many days off, but apparently Jaime said she couldn't handle it. No idea why Mike quit, nor do I really care, because he was an aggravating little shit and I'm just glad he's gone. I find it amusing that Jaime 'couldn't handle it'.. as I was under the impression she had been a server before and being a server at Olive Garden is, well, easy compared to other restaurants. The only difference is we lift heavy trays all day, but it's not like Jaime isn't a hardy girl... I mean, you know, it's not like a stiff breeze (or hurricane) is going to knock her over or anything.

I'm just so glad I don't have to deal with either of them anymore! And I somehow escaped Jaime's entire employment without being in a room with her a single time. I think the Fates knew it would be vicious should she be put in with me, because I had a bevy of things to say to her.

Now we just have to work on Rob.. but as I said before, he apparently loves working at OG with everyone, so I don't foresee him quitting anytime soon. He's terminally clueless and apparently quite willing to be subjected to various cruelty and snubbing. I don't have much against him personally, I mean, I'm sure he's a nice guy and everything. He just tries way too hard, and it renders him clingy and annoying. Plus if you could just see what he looks like. I need to find someone with a digital camera and get a picture, so I can post it here.

Let me see if I can increase my hits via random Google searches.. here's a test. (Cover your eyes if you're easily offended. Actually, if you're easily offended, what the hell are you doing here anyway??)

free porn teen girls lesbian free download XXX hot sex free breasts tits cum bdsm slut whore kink Alyssa Milano * rape goats bondage bestiality fetish gallery pictures

* I once read that Alyssa Milano is the most searched-for thing on the web.

Friday, May 23, 2003

Public Service Announcement

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

I hate being sick. I mean, I don't know anyone who likes it, but I absolutely abhor it. I hate not feeling my normal self, being tired, having a sore throat, feeling gross, etc. I don't like being slowed down and want to do my normal stuff. I smoke too much, both cigarettes and pot, and I know it's not good for me, nor is it easy on my body. Now and then I wake up with a sudden sore throat, which makes me have to slow way down and take care of myself before it gets any worse.

My regimen is a lot of sleep, all juice and no soda, Chloroseptic lozenges, and Nyquil. As well as just sitting on my ass and relaxing, which is what I do best anyway. No, I don't stop smoking while I'm sick, though I know I should. Cigarettes don't taste very good when you're sick, but it's just a bad habit, what can I say.

And I just have to say Tristan Taormino is hot as hell. Seriously.

According to the Dante's Inferno Test, I will be banished to the Seventh Level of Hell. Well, if I'm going to Hell, it's nice to know where I'll be headed. Alas, I am a sodomite!

Sunday, May 18, 2003

I swear to god, every time I visit this blog, my archives are in a different place. I have no idea what the issue is with the archives, why they don't work the way they're supposed to, and why they wander around the page. Perhaps I will never know.

I am not crazy, but I believe there are invisible elves that take things from you from time to time. Have you ever been looking for something and been completely unable to find it, even though you might remember vividly where you last had the item or even where you put it? And even though you tear the house and car apart, you still can't find it, and eventually give up in frustration, only to later have the searched-for item turn up in a completely conspicuous place where you couldn't possibly have overlooked it when you were searching?

If you have experienced this, then you are familiar with the invisible elves. I haven't figured out why they take things or what they do with them, I am only grateful when they return them, so I can stop worrying. For example, I did laundry last week. When it came time to put away my socks, one of my black work socks, as well as another of my favorite pairs of socks, were missing. I use a public laundromat and usually quadruple-check my washers and dryers to be sure I haven't left behind a sock, but last week, I forgot to look for any straggling socks.

So I figured I'd left my socks in either the washer or dryer, because I really didn't have a match for either. I didn't go digging through my drawer or anything, but the socks I use most are up front and on top. There also was no reason for two half-pairs of socks to be in my drawer.. my black socks are all full pairs, as was the sock I was missing. But because I'm an optimist and a packrat, I set both socks on top of my dresser in hope that I would find their matches.

I promptly forgot about the socks.. until this afternoon when I was getting ready for work. I reached into my drawer to get black socks, and pulled out a lone black sock -- the match to the one on the dresser. Then I looked over to the other side of the drawer and found the missing match to the other sock! You can't tell me that's not weird. BOTH missing socks turning up on top of all the other socks in the drawer? And finding both matches at the same time? Think about this.. I didn't put anything into my sock drawer after I returned from doing laundry and sorted and put everything away. That was the day I put the matchless socks on the dresser. So where the hell did the missing socks come from??

I am entirely convinced that there are mischievous elves that like borrowing things. I can't think of any other explanation.

On the homefront, I woke up yesterday to computer problems. As I said in a previous post, I love WinMX. I go on downloading binges.. mostly because the program is totally addicting for me and I literally have to tear myself away and turn the program off. What I really need is a separate hard drive for my music, then I wouldn't feel so guilty about how much space I'm taking up on my PC with all this music. I have a 27 gig hard drive and 9.27GB of MP3s. It's an addiction. I'm a sick, sick person. And really, I can stop any time.

So yeah, I was on a downloading binge and left the 'puter on overnight so I could keep downloading. I'd put it in standby when I went to bed and when I woke up, I couldn't get the computer to wake up out of standby mode. I eventually just hard restarted, and when everything got loaded, I wasn't connected to the net. No email, web, or AIM.. and I couldn't figure out what the issue was. I reset the cable modem a few times, checked all connections, yadda yadda. I finally gave in and called Charter tech support and the stupid first-tier guy tried to help me.. I knew right away he was going to have to refer me to someone and I could have saved him time by telling him that, but he put me through this whole rigamarole of things I'd already tried before I called.. and then finally sent me to tech support.

Well, the tech support guy was really nice, trying to figure this out with me. He finally asked if the lights on my ethernet card were blinking, and when I checked, they weren't. Bad sign. He basically signed the death certificate on my ethernet card and told me I needed a new one. Fortunately, I had a decent ethernet card in my Mac that is PC compatible, so I cracked open both computers and swapped out cards. And obviously here I am, good to go. I didn't even need to download any drivers or anything.. it all worked perfectly.

And I must say I do feel like such a stud when I fix things on my own. It's the guy in me, what can I say. There is little that is more satisfying than doing something for yourself, especially if it's complicated. Installing things, changing oil, mowing the lawn, etc. I love that. In a past relationship, I laid down that I am Master of the Tools. Me, my drill, and my toolbox. Course, she somehow ended up with my bitchin' drill, and I must say I miss it greatly. If you don't have a drill, you need one -- it has many uses and it is very, very handy.

I think one of the best 'handyman' memories I have is when I was living with my ex and this guy named Dave who she would screw around with. Dave is probably the biggest pussy I have ever met, and I would bet money that I am more man than he is. I don't just flaunt the title of pussy, either.. he really has no backbone and is just wimpy in general. In any case, he'd brought some stuff from his parents' house to put up shelves in the laundry room. Now, we're talking super-easy shelves here.. where you get two or three metal strips to support the shelves, use a level to get them straight, drill them into the wall, stick the shelf supports on the metal strips, then put on the shelf. Takes about ten minutes, max.

Well, he kept saying he was going to put them up, and the stuff just sat in the laundry room. I finally got tired of looking at it and relished the opportunity to one-up him, so I grabbed my drill and level and installed the shelves. I put all the laundry stuff on them and made it look normal and as if they'd always been there... and then I didn't say a word. My ex's reaction was great and I got to prove I was manlier than Dave. Brilliant.

Saturday, May 17, 2003

Random Nonsense

I stumbled across this and thought it was kind of funny, yet also so painfully true in many ways. So ye men, take heed, for I have listed here..

(Some Men Really Need To Read This)

Avoiding her lips and diving straight for the erogenous zones makes her feel like you're paying by the hour and trying to get your money's worth by cutting out nonessentials. A proper passionate kiss is the ultimate form of foreplay.

Admit it, some kid at school told you girls love this. Well, there's a difference between being erotic and blowing as if you're trying to extinguish the candles on your 50th birthday cake. That hurts.

You often forget you have a porcupine strapped to your chin which you rake repeatedly across your partner's face and thighs. When she turns her head from side to side, it's not passion, it's avoidance.

Most men act like a housewife testing a melon for ripeness when they get their hand on a pair. Stroke, caress, and smooth them.

Why do men fasten onto a woman's nipples, then clamp down like they're trying to deflate her body via her breasts? Nipples are highly sensitive. They can't stand up to chewing. Lick and suck them gently. Flicking your tongue across them is good. Pretending they're a doggie toy isn't.

Stop doing that thing where you twiddle the nipples between finger and thumb like you're trying to find a radio station in a hilly area. Focus on the whole breasts, not just the exclamation points.

A woman is not a highway with just three turnoffs: Breastville East and West, and the Midtown Tunnel. There are vast areas of her body which you've ignored far too often as you go bombing straight into downtown Vagina. So start paying them some attention.

Poor manual dexterity in the underskirt region can result in tangled fingers and underpants. If you're going to be that aggressive, just ask her to take the damn things off.

Condom disposal is the man's responsibility. You wore it, you store it.

Direct pressure is very unpleasant, so gently rotate your fingers alongside of the clitoris.

Women, unlike men, don't pick up where they left off. If you stop, they plummet back to square one very fast. If you can tell she's not there, keep going at all costs, numb jaw or not.

Women hate looking stupid, but stupid she will look when naked at the waist with a sweater stuck over her head. Unwrap her like an elegant present, not a kid's toy.

Stroking her gently through her panties can be very sexy. Pulling the material up between her thighs and yanking it back and forth is not.

Although most men can find the clitoris without maps, they still believe that the vagina is where it's all at. No sooner is your hand down there than you're trying to stuff stolen banknotes up a chimney. This is okay in principle, but if you're not careful, it can hurt - so don't get carried away. It's best to pay more attention to her clitoris and the exterior of her vagina at first, then gently slip a finger inside her and see if she likes it.

You're attempting to give her a sensual, relaxing massage to get her in the mood. Hands and fingertips are okay; elbows and knees are not.

Don't force the issue by stripping before she's at least made some move toward getting your stuff off, even if it's just undoing a couple of buttons.

A man in socks and underpants is at his worst. Lose the socks first.

When you get to the penis-in-vagina situation, the worst thing you can do is pump away like an industrial power tool - she'll soon feel like an assembly line worker made obsolete by your technology. Build up slowly, with clean, straight, regular thrusts.

If you bash your great triangular hip bones into her thigh or stomach, the pain is equal to two weeks of horseback riding concentrated into a few seconds.

Every man's fear. With reason. If you shoot before you see the whites of her eyes, make sure you have a backup plan to ensure her pleasure too.

It may appear to you that humping for an hour without climaxing is the mark of a sex god, but to her it's more likely the mark of a numb vagina. At least buy some intriguing wall hangings, so she has something to hold her interest while you're playing Marathon Man.

You really ought to be able to tell. Most women make noise. But if you really don't know, don't ask.

Don't act like a giant cat at a saucer of milk. Get your whole mouth down there, and concentrate on gently rotating or flicking your tongue on her clitoris.

Men persist in doing this until she's eyeball-to-penis, hoping that it will lead very swiftly to mouth-to-penis. All women hate this. It's about three steps from being dragged to a cave by their hair. If you want her to use her mouth, use yours; try talking seductively to her.

Sperm tastes like sea water mixed with egg white. Not everybody likes it. When she's performing oral sex, warn her before you come so she can do what's necessary.

Don't thrust. She'll do all the moving during fellatio. You just lie there. And don't grab her head.

In X-rated movies, women seem to love it when men ejaculate over them. In real life, it just means more laundry to do.

Asking her to be on top is fine. Lying there grunting while she does all the hard work is not. Caress her gently, so that she doesn't feel quite so much like the captain of a schooner. And let her have a rest.

This is how men earn a reputation for not being able to follow directions. If you want to put it there, ask her first. And don't think that being drunk is an excuse.

When a man says, "Can I take a photo of you?" she'll hear the words"__to show my buddies." At least let her have custody of them.

Imagination is anything from drawing patterns on her back to pouring honey on her and licking it off. Fruit, vegetables, ice and feathers are all handy props; hot candle wax and permanent dye are a no no.

There is no less erotic noise. It's as sexy as a belching contest.

If she wants to do advanced yoga in bed, fine, but unless she's a Romanian gymnast, don't get too ambitious. Ask yourself if you want a sexual partner with snapped hamstrings.

Read this carefully: Anal stimulation feels good for men because they have a prostate. Women don't.

It is highly erotic to exert some gentle suction on the sides of the neck, if you do it carefully. No woman wants to have to wear turtlenecks and jaunty scarves for weeks on end.

Don't shout encouragement like a coach with a megaphone. It's not a big turn-on.

It makes you sound like a lonely magazine editor calling a 1-900line. If she likes nasty talk, she'll let you know.

You have to finish the job. Keep on trying until you get it right, and she might even do the same for you.

Men generally weigh more than women, so if you lie on her a bit too heavily, she will turn blue.

Never thank a woman for having sex with you. Your bedroom is not a soup kitchen.

Friday, May 16, 2003

Yadda Blah

I have to say I had a pleasant evening at work for a change. We weren't slammed, just steady, and pretty much everyone I waited on seemed in a good mood and receptive to joking around. I like to have fun wherever I am, and if I'm not rushed, I like to have fun at work, both with my coworkers and my tables. A lot of the time, things just don't click.. you're getting people in bad moods or who are closed off and not talkative at all, you're getting demanding tables or the rhythm you're getting tables is off, so you're rushing around.

I like having the little bit of extra time with my tables, because it's part of what makes my job enjoyable.. getting to make people laugh and know that they're having a good time. When I'm rushed, I know I'm not giving as good of service as I could, just because I don't have the time to. I'm not saying I don't try hard to have all the basic needs taken care of, but I like being able to make some sort of connection with my tables. After all, we have to spend an hour or so together, so it may as well be enjoyable, right?

I shared a room with Scott and Jared.. the combination made me a bit unsure as to whether we'd get along all night. Don't get me wrong, I like Jared and Scott a lot. In fact, I like just about everyone I work with; there are only a few exceptions. Everyone has different working styles, however, and even though you may really like someone as a person, there probably are things they do at work that you find annoying. The worrying was pretty much for naught because except for one small squabble over who got the round table (the party table in the room) that turn, everything went very smoothly and we even had time to joke around some.

Tips were pretty good for a change, which always helps carry on the good feeling throughout the night. I also sold another bottle of wine, which puts me up near the lead for our store in the bottle-selling contest. I don't think I have a chance to win when it comes to the region (after all, they sell WAY more wine in Charleston), but I'm kind of stoked. It's pretty much the luck of the draw unless you're an amazing salesperson, but selling wine and getting good alcohol averages is the key to getting brownie points at the OG. And I am in dire need of some brownie points right about now, so we'll take it if we can get it!

And with that, I think I'm done for tonight.

Let's Talk About "Us"

Well, it looks like I may be taking a fairly permanent move to webspace provided by my ISP. When I first started this blog, I was trying to get my space set up there and because their website is an unwieldy, unintuitive piece of crap, I couldn't figure out how to do it. So I had to call tech support (which I try to avoid if I can, because usually I know if I do enough research/reading, I can figure it out myself), my last resort. I was pretty much pulling my hair out when I eventually gave up trying to do it -- I mean, I searched their Help Center and found absolutely nothing on setting it up other than the things I had already tried.

Anyway, I had a really nice tech guy and he gave me the FTP address and my URL.. I told him they needed that information on their website so that semi-skilled people can figure out how to do it on their own. I have a few choice words to say about Charter (*cough*circlejerk*cough*), but since this site may be taking up residence there soon, I should probably just diplomatically keep my mouth shut.

If they have ads or anything, I'm going to be royally pissed and not make the move. I just need some time to do some testing and playing around with FTP to check it all out. Because, truthfully, while I enjoy the freedom provided by a pop-up killer, I know pop-up (and under, and across the screen, yadda yadda) ads really suck. I remember the good old days of Tripod when the only advertising Tripod did was an inobtrusive banner ad at the bottom of your pages. Then some insidious bastard invented pop-up ads and the rest is history.

By the way, I highly, highly recommend a pop-up killer (email me and I'll send you a pretty good one for free). I also recommend Ad-aware if you've never heard of it or used it before. It's the self-described "morning after pill for the internet". Have you ever stopped to consider how much spyware might currently be festering on your computer? If you don't know what spyware is, they are small, fairly innocuous files, programs, and cookies that track your internet movements and habits. They may track how much you buy, where you buy from, or what sites you're visiting.

Now.. I'm not really doing anything special that I care whether people track it or not. They may get a chuckle out of how many BDSM-related websites I visit, but I don't care much about that. For me, it's the principle of the thing. To the tracking companies that put this spyware on my computer, all I have to say is: Keep your fucking crap OFF my computer, kthx.

It's my computer, it's my cable connection, what I do, where I go, what I look at.. is no one's business, particularly if they're acting in a shady manner and secretly spying on me. If they put files on my computer without asking me in order to do so. That stuff pisses me off. Which is why I will never, ever use Kazaa. I downloaded it once on my Mac because I was desperate for a song and Limewire, though a great program, is very limited in terms of numbers of users and file selection. In case you're not aware, Kazaa installs spyware onto your computer. It puts you through this lengthy and complicated installation process, where it seems like you get a choice to install or not install the spyware, but I've heard it installs some anyway. So Kazaa is evil, and the fact that so many people still use it anyway just goes to prove my point that the general American public is just plain stupid.

By the way.. WinMX is a rock-ass file-sharing program, with lots of users and tons and tons of songs to choose from. The program allows you to pick out a number of songs and then just walk away, because it's very intuitive and constantly searches for new sources with the songs you want. So my advice is to boycott Kazaa because it was surely spawned by Satan himself, and use WinMX instead, because it's a billion times better and wasn't made by Satan. I mean, is there really even a choice here?

I have this knack for finding really random shit on the internet. I think it's a combination of my web exploring and the fact that freaky shit gravitates to me in general. I have become so good at it, I think people are beginning to wonder about my mental health...


Monday, May 12, 2003

Random Fun Tests

You're Femme!
You're a Femme! You are the typical feminine
lesbian, in touch with your spirit and esoteric
idea, a feminist, and often men can't believe
you're gay. Damn the man, fight the empire!

What type of lesbian are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

ROFL. I am so not a femme. That cracks me up.


You're a lesbian all right!! You love your girls!!
Good for you!

How lesbian are you??
brought to you by Quizilla

Good to know I'm really a lesbian. I wasn't so sure, you know?


Feminine Lesbian
You are a Femme--The last thing anyone would see
you wearing is a pair of pants and a tie. You
like your skirts, make-up, and your cute
girlfriend. Sometimes the most beautifullest
women in the world are feminine lesbians. Feel

What kind of Lesbian are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Oh my god. This is getting scary. I'm not even a femme.. I'm a tomboy!


See, this is me.. totally NOT femme:

Alena:  The Non-Femme


You have loving, beautiful and passionate lesbian
sex. it's full of love and care and yet still
is fucking hot! good job, keep it up.

what kind of *lesbian* sex are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Now we're talking.. damn straight!


You are Ellen. Everyone loves being round you as
you keep the jokes coming. And you're not afraid
of your sexuality!

What famous lesbian are you?
brought to you by Quizilla



My Favorite Female Part Is:

The Face: Sweet and angelic...

except when she yells at me...

Find out your favorite female body part!

Eh. I don't have a favorite part. I love all of a woman with equal passion!


I Am The Sex Toy:

Fuzzy Cuffs: Everyone knows who's in charge here, its me! I'll grab you by the wrists and not let go until you are good and done. Ten-hut!

Find out what sex toy you are.



And finally....

Your Ultimate Purity Score Is...
CategoryYour Score Average
When I think about you - or anyone - I touch myself
It takes a couple of drinks
Sex Drive 57%
A fool for love, but not always
Knows the other body type like a map
Gayness 7%
Makes Dr. Frank-n-Furter look tame
Fucking Sick74%
Dipped into depravity
You are 42% pure
Average Score: 70.6%

Saturday, May 10, 2003

Damn It To Hell

Aaaaaaarrrrgggh. Here I was all week, thinking I was off tomorrow (Mother's Day, a.k.a. server hell), and I come to find that I actually am scheduled, only no one marked on the server schedule that I had to check the expo schedule, too. So I went this entire week in blissful ignorance, which all painfully shattered for me about 9pm tonight when Rose insisted I was supposed to expo tomorrow.

Steve the manager checked and yes, I indeed do have to be back at work tomorrow, at 11:30am. But I think at least I am an expo and not on the floor, because I have really wanted to kill people lately, and after a night like tonight, Mother's Day on the floor would have likely shoved me right over the edge. I might be expoing with Paul, too, and that'll be fun.

Paul is this guy who I thought hated me for a long time. I'm a know-it-all and he's a know-it-all, and when you put two know-it-alls together, it can be kind of bad. So I was convinced he resented me for knowing more about some things than he did. I talked to him a few months ago about this, how I'd thought he hated me, and he just kind of laughed. He thought it was funny because he and I get along really well together now. We share a geeky side, so we get to blabber about computers and websites and nifty cool flash animation thingers together. He just basically explained he tends to be a bit distant from new people in the restaurant, because he doesn't know if they'll last, what kind of server they'll be, etc. And I guess I can see that. I used to be a trainer at Crapplebee's and I think I was somewhat distant to my trainees. I mean, if I continually trained the same person, we'd likely develop some sort of friendship. Otherwise, yeah, I think I was a bit distant, too.

Oh, the new girl Jaime.. she is still there and presents a constant source of irritation, as well as graciously standing as an ongoing target of ridicule. Her voice is incredibly whiny and annoying, so even when she says something normal, it makes your ears bleed. She does complain about everything, and I'm not sure I've ever heard her say a single positive thing about anything. I'm under the impression that her tongue would fall out the moment she uttered a positive word, and that's why she persists on whining all the time. In any case, I've not yet worked in a room with her, somehow. I think should they ever put us together, by the end of the shift, I would have told her off. She sucks as a server, and she sucks as a coworker. She can't handle three tables at once.. from what I've heard, she has difficulty doing two at once. Which makes everyone else have to pick up her slack.

At Crapplebee's, I have run up to eleven tables at once. Yeah, I was running my ass off, sure, but it's not impossible. Two tables is practically nothing in the server world. Even if one of them is being super-demanding, you should not be in the weeds. She has kind of a bad attitude, as well. She seems kind of bitter, and I know that she doesn't change her expression or personality one iota when she leaves the side station and goes into the dining room. I know she carries that attitude with her everywhere she goes. And then has the nerve to whine when her tips suck? Everytime I hear her bitch about a table not leaving her a good tip, I want to say, "You know why your tips suck? Because you suck."


I heard the whisper of a rumor that she was fired last week, but they let her come back. Neither Rose nor I could get the scoop on this, but apparently Jaime did something to one of her tables that made them get up and leave in a huff. Wonder if it was the attitude, or whether she just royally fucked something up. I need to get the dirt... I want to know!

In any case, if the rumor is true, then she is dangling by a thread. And she will likely provide the scissors if she continues behaving the way she has. So.. not wanting to get my hopes up, but.... right on.

There's this chick I work with named Gara, who I used to have a crush on because I thought she was so cute. Well, I am over Gara because her work ethics suck. She's lazy and she is constantly trying to weasel out of work early. Today was the icing on the cake, when I walked into my side's side station, having only just arrived, not even scheduled to clock in for another 15 minutes.. and having Gara dump a table on me. Not just a table, no.. a party of 7.

The restaurant was nuts anyway, I guess people were getting a jump on Mother's Day. It had been busy as hell all day, and from the moment I clocked on until about 9:00, I was in various stages of being completely weeded. It sucked, mostly because my tips were not reflecting my hard work. I was running my ass off and getting everything these people wanted. I didn't get to spend the little bit of extra time I like to take with my tables to get acquainted with them and joke around and stuff, but I was very nice to everyone and got them their food timely. This is very frustrating, you know, to work really hard and no matter what you do, people don't acknowledge you. A kind word or two does mean a lot, though it's always confusing why people who tell me what a great server I am leave me only 10% (I guess the compliment was my extra 5%).

And when you're making crappy tips in general, a good tip can really make you feel great, especially when you know it's deserved. It is a token of thank-you, and we servers are poor and work very hard. So it's kind of like how you get to the heart of a hungry man, you feed him.. To get to the heart of a hungry server, it's through the wallet.

Friday, May 09, 2003


Well, my landlord never showed up yesterday, and I had a feeling he would come today when I was at work. And he did, but there is no way I can be irritated about it, because in my kitchen sits the most beautiful sight: a brand-new, gleaming white stove with a can of Raid roach killer perched on top.

Now, I am a little aggravated about the can of Raid, because while I do think it's kind of cute and funny, if I'd wanted a can of Raid, I would have just gone and bought one! I want someone professional to come and spray, and take care of these goddamn roaches.

Oh well, I guess I will spray for the damn roaches myself. I care little because I have a brand new stove! I am so excited, it's almost sick. You have no idea, I mean, the big green monster is gone from my kitchen! Gone and replaced by a beautiful white specter of moderness. The cook in me shivers in delight. The stove is so new that all the parts are still bubble-wrapped inside, along with the manual. If I had a table and chairs, I'd have a freakin' dinner party!

I'm really so excited to not have to be intimidated by the green behemoth anymore when I enter my kitchen. The fact that this one is white brightens up my kitchen. It is just a marvel of loveliness and I will take care of it. I wonder if it's sick to be this excited about a new appliance, though it's not like I'm about to go humping it or anything, so don't worry. I shall always attempt to retain a small portion of sanity.

My archive thinger is all fucked up. It's now migrating to a different section of this page, all on its own (it was fine when I left it yesterday). I think I have a fair grasp on HTML, and this archive thing is just boggling the hell out of me. It's set how it should be set, all the code is correct and in place, no missing markers, no missing tags, nothing. It's just being a persistent pain in my ass.

I had a guy tonight leave me $1.88 on a $16 check. It amuses me because you know, instead of not being cheap and leaving a straight $2.00 for an hour of my time, he does what I and most other servers hate, he rounded on his credit card, happily falling somewhere near the 15% range. Rounding on your credit card is a pain in your server's ass, even though for the more anal customers, it seems to be quite a pleasure. Rounding is when you match the tip on your credit card slip to make an even number for a total. So if your bill was $16.75, you would leave a tip of $3.25, rounding your total to an even $20.

Why is this a pain in a server's ass? Because more often than not, in this situation, the server will lose out. The tips rarely fall as well as the guy's did tonight, so the server will end up with less than 15% in a situation where, with a cash tip, they would more likely than not have received something resembling 15% (we hope) in forms of bills (none of that change bullshit). And where if someone was just being cheap and was going to tip $3 anyway, seriously, that lost quarter really makes no difference. Likely if the cash change was $3.25, they would just leave it all on the table, quarter and all (unless they collect quarters or are cheap. Or both.).

I just really cannot get how cheap people are and all the different things they try to get away with. Extra dressing to dip your breadsticks in.. you mean, a way to get dipping sauce (which we charge for) for free? Water with 'extra, extra' lemon, so that you can pour sweetener in it and make your own lemonade, because you're too cheap to buy a glass, which, incidentally, have unlimited refills, too? I have seen people ask for a box for every goddamned thing on the table. Salad, breadsticks, drinks, sauces, you name it. First of all, you know this is a total sign of cheapness. That salad is covered in dressing, and that is going to be soggy and disgusting when you get it home. The breadsticks.. they're cheap brown-and-serve bread. The only time they're good is when they're fresh out of the oven and buttered/salted.

Then there are the people who refuse to ask you for everything all at once, they instead make you run off for one or two things, then when you come back, have something else they need, which you go get, then come back to something else being needed. Being a pain in the ass at a restaurant, folks, is not the way to gain your server's respect, nor are you guaranteed stellar service. You want to get good service at a restaurant? Let me tell you some key things.

* If you must be picky, know what you want to eat when your server takes your order. That includes any and all modifications to the dish necessary. Depending on what kind of pre-meal stuff a restaurant offers, make it clear any other modifications you need to things like salad, soup, appetizers, etc. Please make an effort to be prepared when ordering, and be up-front and clear about any and ALL modifications you need. Really, all at once. If you suddenly remember you don't want the onions in your entree after the food's been sent, it will not only delay your order, but if they're working on the food, the partly-prepared food may be scrapped and wasted. It takes time away from serving tables for the server to go and have to inform the kitchen. It also can be very frustrating.

* Unless you have a crappy server, they likely already know you need a refill. There is no need to continue to pester them about getting a refill, because, if they are busy or are having a tough time with things like other customers, long ticket times, or their grouchy general manager, they may just not be able to stop and get you another drink, and seriously, it happens. We get slammed hard sometimes, and get a backlog of different things we need to get and do. We call this being in the weeds. When you're in the weeds, you have no time for anything. And having someone repeatedly ask you for a refill when you're weeded, especially in short periods of time, is not going to score any points.

* Read the menu. I'm serious. Most answers to your questions can be found on the menu. Look it over, especially if you have never eaten at that restaurant before. Read the fine print. It's okay to tell your server you need a few more minutes to look at the menu. I would rather someone actually be ready when I ask them they're ready, instead of asking questions it would have taken no more than five seconds for them to find on the menu, and subsequently wasting my time that I need to do my job.

* Be prepared when you order. Don't hold your server at your table when you say you're ready, and really just want to play the "What should I get? What are you getting?" game with a captive (literally) audience. Do you not see the server has other tables, and that those tables likely need something? I don't understand WHY people do this. And it always seems they know the exact moment I'm slammed and reeeeeeeaaaally need to get that refill for my other table, and the check for my other table... What part of "Are you ready to order" is so difficult to understand? Has the definition of 'ready' changed and I somehow wasn't informed?

* 15% is what you should tip. If you have exceptional service, 20% is perfect.. more if you had astounding service. 10% is not a good tip. It is not what you give good servers. 10% is when your waitress was a total bitch, disappeared, ignored your table, and essentially started sucking up around cashout/tip time. We are talking about 15% minimum here! Even if your service was average, 15%. If it was great, they deserve at least 15%. People don't seem to understand this, and I don't think many know that most servers don't even make an hourly minimum wage. The wage for tip-based professions is $2.13/hr, which I believe is around half of the federal minimum wage. So I might bust my ass for 8 hours and make $16 hourly. Servers live on your tips. Please, please, please remember that when we do our best to provide you with excellent service.

Thursday, May 08, 2003

Insert Witty Title Here

Maybe I don't have as much to say as I first thought. I have not felt a pressing need lately to come spew about current events.. frankly, nothing exciting has been going on. Just work, days off, work, days off.. boring, boring.

I have actually been enjoying my new-found freedom and spare time, now that I have been graciously relieved of my GM position. I have been playing more GS, and actually enjoying playing, than I have in a long time.. even since before I became a GM. Now I have room to roleplay however I want, do the things I want in the game.. with no standard I'm being held to, no expectations, no work, and not having to do anything. It's lovely. I goof around, I surf the web, read message boards.. I have lots of time.

I went to bed at dawn, which has become fairly regular for me (I think I finally bowed down and submitted to the insomnia).. slept fine until about 11:30am, when all the neighborhood noises woke me up. I just had kind of a premonition that someone was going to come to my door.. so I kept waking up every time I heard a noise vaguely resembling knocking. I need a doorbell, for one. I think the walls here project rather than muffle sounds, so someone knocking on the door of my downstairs neighbor sounds pretty much like someone is knocking on my door. Therefore, I never know, if I'm in the bedroom, if someone is actually knocking on my door or not. When I feel like shelling out $15 for a wireless doorbell, I will have my solution.

In any case, I had a visit from a policeman yesterday or the day before (oh, how the days just blur together), which startled the hell out of me, considering I had the wee bong and a bag of pot sitting on my desk. Those got quickly hidden, of course, and it turns out he was looking for the guy who lived here before me.. so.. narrowly averted disaster there. And today, at about 1:30pm, after sleeping fitfully, someone else was pounding on my door. I had to throw on my boxers because I just sleep in a shirt, and I rushed to my door. It was my landlord.

Let me spend a little time describing my landlord. First, he's like 2 feet tall. Okay, maybe 4.5-5 feet in reality. He's 80-something and has no breath to waste on the unnecessary (he never says goodbye before hanging up on you, for example. Sometimes I get an "All right." (pause) *click*). When I first met him, he was in serious need of a root job. The ends of his hair were very black, obviously dyed, and he sported like 6 inches of shock-white roots. I'm just like.. man. Heheheh. He's not a bad guy, I guess.. just kinda crochety.

When he showed me around (I met with him a couple times at the apartment while negotiating), I was treated to the same shpiel twice. The walls are thick, double insulated, he pays for gas, then he starts going off about how he doesn't want to see posters all over the walls because of all the holes tacks make. He said, "And I don't wanna be seein' all these posters of Elvis all over the place, no. Too many holes."

I was seriously amused when he said that, and had to try to keep from chuckling. Posters of Elvis? Little behind the times there, guy. I bet if you said "Britney Spears" to him, he'd go, "Who?"

So in any case, he promised me a new stove "when the weather warms up". The one I have now.. is disgusting and old. I refuse to use it. It's got to be 30 years old.. avocado green, crusted and stained beyond even two scrubbings' worth of work (using an industrial strength scrubbing agent, I might add). I haven't even opened it.. I can only imagine what the inside is like. I cook in the microwave, kthx.

I had mailed a little note to my landlord with this month's rent check. I inquired about the new stove, because I hadn't heard anything from him about that and the weather is warm now. I also informed him about the problems with my little cock-a-roach visitors. Seriously, it's just disgusting and it's driving me crazy. They are not even MY cockroaches! I don't even have roaches in the kitchen. Aside from one in the bathroom once in a while, they just crawl out over my computer desk, for some bizarre reason I can't figure out. I don't know why my desk.. they never even find anything, for one.. secondly, there is a lamp on my desk (don't they hate light?), third, there is a moving human right here! Making noises and stuff. It boggles the mind. I guess they just like me, or I smell like food and no one's ever told me.

He didn't mention the roaches, but he said he was going to be installing my new stove today. And I waited around.. but he never came back. At least it gave me a much-needed reason to clean and straighten up around here, it was looking really bad. Now it's still kind of bad, but it's not like a fucking pigsty. I mean, I cleaned and stuff! I'm quite pleased with myself. It feels better when your surroundings are fairly orderly. I'm not good at keeping it up, though, so I foresee a relapse.

I know I've been losing weight since I moved out.. my work pants fit better, my two smaller shirts that I'd pretty much outgrown and had to buy a new size, they now fit as well. I can see the leanness in my upper body.. my neck, shoulders, chest. My collar bones are noticeable and you can see the ridges on my sternum when I raise my arms. I also am getting some muscles in my arms, which stokes me to no end. I lift and carry heavy trays all day at work, and the bicep of my tray-supporting arm has some definition. No, really! Not a ton or anything, but you can tell I have muscles. It's fucking cool. I always wanted arm muscles (have never, ever been able to do a chin-up, my upper body is weak).

I attribute the weight loss to not eating. Yep, that'd probably do it. In any case, I hate cooking for myself and when I'm on my own, I eat whatever is filling and the easiest to prepare. I'm actually a really good cook and I enjoy cooking, I just can't stand cooking for myself alone. So I hold off until I'm starving, or wracked with the grandfather of all hunger pangs, like the other night, and then eat a small amount because I fill up easily now, too. Since I get enough fat and calories with the junk food I'm eating, the weight isn't exactly melting, but I do think I've lost 15-20 pounds since I moved out. Yikes.. that actually is melting.. if you figure I've been here about 3 months now.

I used one of the bath scales at Wal-Mart to weigh myself. The first one said I was 140, which is just an impossibility (for one, I can't possibly have lost 40 pounds, for two, I have such a large frame that at 140, people would be telling me I'm skinny.. plus, I know I'm not. You should see my torso.).. the other one said something like 155, which is more reasonable. I think, though, that I was about 175-180 when I moved out of Kit's. I don't know if the scale is accurate, but if it is, that means I've lost 20-25. Which I think is a lot... and is kind of scary to me that my eating habits right now are that unhealthy. I mean, I never used to just drop weight before... it was always a big struggle.

One of these days, I'll weigh myself at Kit's, at least I know I can trust her scale. As for me, I'm liking the leaner me, and damn, I think I look good in a tank top.

Saturday, May 03, 2003


I really have nothing to say, so I'm going to just blabber for a bit because I haven't posted anything in a while. I've been lax. And do I care that no one is reading this and essentially I'm talking to myself? Not really!

I have to say I am really sick as hell of being a waitress. It's not any one big thing, either, the job itself I like.. it's just the little things that are really starting to get to me. On top of it, I really just can't stand most of the people I wait on. I know that's really bad, when 2/3 of my tables make me cringe when I see them sit down. I really like serving, and I like the people I work with. It's actually a fairly fun job that is also challenging, which helps keep me interested. I just have this wee bitty superiority complex when it comes to the people I wait on.

When the trailer park pours out and fills up our smoking section, and they're all being demanding and crass and rude, and running your ass off.. and you just know the welfare check just got in and they're going to leave you $2 on a $90 check... I just look at these people and know that in pretty much every way, I am better than them. I'm smarter, and I bet I sure as hell am way more well-traveled. I just shake my head. I have issues with people being rude to me and treating me like a personal servant and then tipping me like shit, when I know I am better than they are.

I'm just really over it, and I am over people in general. I hate dealing with people's stupid crap all day long. I don't care if you don't want olives in your salad. Or that you don't want a lemon in your water or tea. Pick the damn things out. I don't care about anything, really, and the fact that no matter how nice and accomodating I am with people, my tips never reflect my efforts. It honestly, truly, makes absolutely no difference what attitude I have with my tables. I have been testing this out. I usually start a shift off fresh and with some energy, and thus tend to be very nice and understanding. As the night wears on, and all my niceness has proved fruitless, I start getting tired and bitter. The more trailer trash and hillbillies I wait on, the more bitter I get. And yeah, my service reflects it to a degree. Occasionally I will ride the line with a comment or something bordering on rude, but generally I just act very detached instead.

You would think the people I'm extremely nice and helpful to would tip according to the level of service, right? Bzzzt. Wrong. I make fairly steadily the same amount, no matter what time of my shift it is. Nice or bitter, people tip me crap. So where the hell is my incentive to be nice to people? Man, I could just walk around bitter and rude all the time and my tips wouldn't even suffer.

We have this bartender named Mike, who is at the same time both amusing and infuriating. This guy is a complete know-it-all, pompous ass. He is the expert authority on everything, and god forbid you try to show you might know a bit more about something than he does! He has also taken to picking on me, doing things like shooting ice at me, throwing things at me, etc. I want to ignore him, but he keeps starting crap with me!

One of the more amusing things.. one day when he was cashing me out, we somehow got on the topic of pleasing a woman. I am pretty confident that I, as a lesbian, am more adept at pleasing women than most men. I admit that some men are good at it, but I think I would beat out most guys in a muff-diving contest. In any case, he started telling me I didn't know shit about pleasing women, and how being good in bed isn't something you know, it's something you learn.

Now, I'm not trying to be conceited or anything, but I am a Scorpio and sex has always come very natural to me. I started being sexual at a very young age, and everything after that was a mixture of exploration and basically already knowing what would feel good and what to do. Once I started reading erotica, especially lesbian erotica, researching sexual toys, and doing some physical exploration, I had a ready set of tools at my disposal, coming from the mixture of learned and innate knowledge.

I told Mike I disagreed with him, because I'm a natural with sex. He then went on to try and smack me down, saying unless I'd taken a class and learned the proper ways to touch a woman and blah blah.. Apparently, there are 52 erogenous zones and they have to be touched in the correct sequence to turn the woman on.. hey.. kind of like punching in the correct code to open the vault..

I just thought that was really funny. The 52 places to touch a woman and the correct sequence. What a load of crap -- I have no idea what the hell he's talking about, but what I'm doing has worked quite well for me in the past, thanks!