love you too mom...

(ring ring)

Hi Mom. No, not much, same ol' same. No, still haven't found a job yet. Yes, still making coffee for a living at the moment. No, I didn't get the job I interviewed for last week. It's ok mom. No, I don't need money. ... No, I don't think I need to move home. Really mom, I appreciate the offer, and if I ever go broke I promise I'll take you up on that offer. I didn't mean it like that ma, going broke isn't the only reason I'd come home. I'm coming home for the holidays aren't I? What do you mean the holidays don't count because I have to come home for those? Well I don't know what to tell you ma. Sure I'm thinking about going to grad school if I can't find a job soon. Sure mom, I'll consider applying to schools close to your home too. No, I'm not just saying that to be nice. I know they have some great grad schools there, and I'll request some information from them. You already had them mail some out to me? Yeah, thanks mom. No, I don't need you to fill out an application for me. I don't think they're looking for letters of recommendation from mothers either. No, I'm sure you would be a great reference, but I don't think it works that way, because --can we just talk about something else?

My facebook? Why did I block you from looking at my wall posts and photo albums? Because you told grandma and she started asking me for a friend request. I didn't even know she knew what the internet was. Oh, it was just you setting up a profile for her so we could all be connected? Why? She will never use it. No, I'm pretty sure no one else has their entire family as friends on facebook. What? You found out my sister's password and looked at my profile from there? No mom, I don't think I'm drinking too much. It was a picture from a vacation. Yes, she was a pretty girl, but no I am not dating her. Or anyone else. How is Christina? I have no idea mom. ... Mom. .... MOM. She got married. Yes mom, like two years ago. No, I haven't talked to her. Yeah, you can keep the picture of us up. I swear mom, the moment I meet a nice girl I'll call you first thing. I'll get married someday mom, and have nice grandkids for you and everything, but I'm 26, I don't need to do it today. I know Sonja and her husband are expecting their second kid. That's great mom. Seriously mom, I'll figure it all out soon, I promise. Are you crying mom? Dammit...sorry for cursing mom. No, I know. I love you to. Yes mom. I'll talk to you... Well I gotta...Can you put dad on the phone for a sec?

Hey dad. Yeah, that was an awesome game! I thought the defense was a little weak, put we ended up putting a drive together to get it done. Yeah, he's kind of overrated. Yeah, good talking to you too. Oh, and tell mom I'm deleting her from facebook. It's this online, -look nevermind. Bye dad.

HOLIDAZE!!!

HOLIDAZE!!!
So as many of you know, my current recession job is being a barista at the bucks of stars. We recently rolled out the holiday drinks. Who the hell wants eggnog on the first day of November? A lot of people I guess. And most of them are fat. If you haven't guessed yet, this is going to be a blog where I just rant on things that are annoying the bejezes out of me about the early holiday selling period and other stuff. So let's start with fat people and holiday beverages.

The stranglehold Starbucks has on fat people is ridiculous. I mean, good for them for making drinks that people become dependent on, but it really reflects on the willpower people have these days. To put this in comparison, I worked at a liquor store in the ghetto of North Minneapolis for a couple years in college. You might think ghetto and any city in MN is ridiculous, but it was a low income area and there was a point where 5 people were murdered within a 3 block radius in a one month period while I was working there. It was one of the most entertaining jobs of my life, and getting to drink on the job and buy booze at 19 was a major plus. Anyways, we had customers that would stop into the store 2-3 times per day and buy malt liquor or half pints of booze. At Starbucks, I have customers coming in two to three times per day ordering venti frappacinos and mochas with extra whip and caramel. The similarities are striking. One store is killing people with booze, the other store is killing them by making them morbidly obese. I know it may be rude, but I have started telling the highschool girls they need to cut the whip out and get the small drinks because their metabolism won't last past highschool and their asses will start getting fat. It has never gone over well, but I have noticed that a couple of them have stopped ordering the extra whip cream at least. Oh, and another thing. I bite my tongue laughing whenever someone orders a non-fat drink, but adds whipped cream.

Our holiday drinks are the gingerbread latte, caramel brulette, peppermint mocha, and the dreaded eggnog latte. How does anyone drink eggnog latte and enjoy it? This is a bit hypocritical because I drink a lot of scotch and whiskey neat or on the rocks and it is an acquired taste, but eggnog is just nauseating to think about. It is extremely rich dairy, overpowering mint, artery clogging, and nothing makes it taste good to me. I've tried mixing and matching at work, added rum and brandy in the past, and tried it warm and cold. Nothing makes me want to drink eggnog, or can even make it passable. I do get a kick out of people that ask for non-fat eggnog lattes though because it is impossible to make. Eggnog is all fat. It is like 4000% of your daily value of fat (slightly exaggerated). We don't tell them that, we just serve them an eggnog latte and say it's non-fat. Then I ask them if they'd like whipped cream.

I've decided that it would be an awesome job to select music for Starbucks. You would just listen to a ton of cool hipster, jazz, and overall relaxing music and put it on a gigantic playlist. I have also decided I am going to punch that guy in the face when I meet him. We play certain musicians more than others because they have a deal with Starbucks or something when they release new albums, so it's cool when the Beatles put out their 11th rerelease of anything. On the other hand, when some no-talent assclown like Michael Buble puts out a piece of crap, we get to hear half his album at least four times a day. I am convinced Buble is only famous because he is the only good looking guy singing lounge music right now. His original stuff is crap and his covers of other songs make me hate the originals. Now I have to hear it every day I go to work.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bf5RePiYBDs

Speaking of music I hate, and tying it in with the Beatles reference, there are a ton of holiday songs that are annoying (and I am sure they'll start playing any day now), but there is one song in particular that make me want to start punting little children and small animals when I hear it. Paul McCartney's Wonderful Christmas Time. It is the worst holiday song ever. Do you doubt me? Sit through all of it -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWuKimtUEas -- It is painful to listen to. Was it worth it Paul? Was the extra cash for this piece of crap worth it? Whenever I think of your career after the Beatles, I will think of this fail song. That is your legacy to me.

Ok, my rant well has run dry, so until next time, remember - whenever you order a venti drink with whip, someone like me will be judging you for it.

Why I'm going to bed early on a Saturday night...

I started the night by telling my roommate I shouldn't go out. I have to work early tomorrow and shouldn't spend a lot of money this weekend. I was just going to go to the brewery and then dinner and catch the caltrain home so I could be in bed by 11. The worst part is, it all went according to plan...almost.

So our friend's brother was in town and we decided to go to the Prohibition Brewery in South San Francisco. Ok wait, lets back track. Stories are always more interesting if you get a background story. Kinda like a Lost episode. So I was feeling pretty good about life because I had a job interview for a position I really wanted. I was up at 6am getting my interview attire ready and then rolling into work. I didn't eat lunch because I had to roll straight from work to the interview (which I think went really well, but I won't find out if someone is going to pay me money until Tuesday). I got home from the interview and went straight to the brewery. Empty stomach and beer with a 10% alc. content = cheap date. The Prohibition Brewery was cool though. 6 of their very delicious brews on tap, some snacks, a crappy jazz band, and a lot of hippies. Like a lot. I was embarrassed to wear my nerd goggles because I didn't want to be confused with the vegans in the room. The only criticism I have of the brewery itself though was the location. I think I got tagged going from the car to the brewery. Oh, and the fact that two other friends going to meet us there couldn't find a cabbie that was willing to drive to that neighborhood. Ok, this is all boring. I haven't set anything up well and you have an image of me hanging out in a warehouse in the neighborhood from Boyz in the Hood with Berkeley Students. Let's just skip to the point. I am sauced after three beers due to my empty stomach now cursing at me in growl noises, but I can still go according to plan and get home after dinner escaping an expensive night and waking up after a refreshing full 7 hours of sleep.

Next was the pizza place. Let me just get to the ending. Credit card roulette is a cruel bitch. Six guys drinking several bottles of wine and 4 pizzas when someone suggests credit card roulette. I had the liquid courage going and love making stupid bets. $170 + tip at stake and we drew the plastic money survivor style. Now maybe a $200 or so risk doesn't seem like too much damage, but I work at Starbucks because I still can't find a real job since moving up here in April. My income isn't what it used to be. Two cards without my name later, I had a one in four shot of losing now. Two cards later, it is between me and one other guy. The waitress pulls a card out and says "Mike." Awesome right? Nope. The other guys name is Mike too. And guess who is the lucky billapalooza payer for this feast. So it looks like I won't be going to the bars for a while.

Well I lost out on goal number one of not spending too much money. I'm not all that mad about it, because...well I don't get mad about much of anything. Besides, looking back on this whole mess, it is funny. No use on stressing out on things that are out of your control. I rolled the dice and I lost. It happens. At least I can take the train home and get to bed at a respectable hour. Right? Sure. Got on the train and just shut my eyes. Well, when I opened them again I heard them calling out the Santa Clara station coming up. ... Santa Clara... Wait what?

I SLEPT THROUGH MY STATION.

Not only did I sleep through my stop, I slept through 12 more stations and 30 miles. I slept a lot on public transportation back when I used it in L.A, and just got used to sleeping through the noise and movement. Turns out this is not a desirable skill to have all the time. As the frying pan to the fire situation goes, this is the last train for the night. 10pm turn to midnight and I am stuck several zip codes away from my house. No more northbound trains until 7am, and I need to be at work at 7:30am. Now would be a good time to freak out, but I don't really do that ever either. I just start walking north on the train tracks and call a couple people. My roommate suggests haggling a cabbie for a $30 ride (on a 30 mile trip...) or getting a hotel. I don't see anything resembling a hotel or a cabbie anywhere near where I am. I did see a couple trailer parks though. Then my phone starts beeping that it's bed time is soon until I get it a charge. With phone death impending and me walking along the train tracks like bo-tiddly the bum, things are not looking good.

I sent out a desperation text to my roommate's old roommate who is married and lives in San Jose.

Me: This sounds stupid, but I'm stuck in San Jose. If you could help me out I'd love you long time.

Jeff: Who is this?

Me: Flower.

Jeff: Yeah, be there in 15-20 min.

Seriously. That is clutch. I just wanted a place to crash until I could catch the morning train, but he gave me a ride home. A 40 minute drive home. Turns out it was the best possible night for me to screw up like this because he was flying a red eye flight to Canada for work and needed to pass my place to get to SFO airport. And so the story ends, I got a couple hours of sleep before enduring a long day at work where espresso shots did nothing to help my body want to recover. Sure some would chock it up to a really crappy day, but I get a funny story to tell despite the hurt wallet, feet, and internal clock (it's 7pm and I want to pass out and wake up Monday). Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go re-evaluate life and go to bed.

Celebrities!!!

As all deep conversations go over the course of a long night and several drinks, this one didn't go well. I have also realized that I am a terrible conversationalist when I have a couple cocktails, but that is a whole different mess about how I am extremely blunt and have little to no tact. So anyway, this conversation began with me on a rant about dead celebrities. I hypothesized (is that the correct term for having no inner monologue on a Saturday night?) that there is a vast difference in the effects of celebrity's deaths based on what sex they are. I made the point that when a male celebrity dies, their lives are celebrated more by the public than most female celebrities. When it came out of my mouth, I am sure I didn't say it right and made it sound totally sexist, but I can at least write about it now after a week or so of thinking how I should phrase it, but it will still probably come out awfully sexist. Of course celebrities being celebrated and remembered in general is inane and stupid because aside from entertaining you and making a ton of money off their fame, they have impacted most of our lives to the effect of almost nothing.

Female celebrities are remembered for what they looked like in their prime years. Male celebrities icons are remembered for their personality and what they brought to the public. I do not mean to say that women are any less important than men at all. I am just saying, that female celebrities are icons because of solely their looks. The inebriated girl I was explaining this to was not happy to hear it at all. She told me to lay out some examples. I replied by saying Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson died at almost the same time. Remember that? Farrah Fawcett died recently amongst the Swayze's and MJ's. She told me it wasn't fair since Jackson was one of the biggest pop icons of all time. Ok. That's fair. I came back that Billy Mays was bigger news than Farrah Fawcett dying. Now she was getting a little belligerent, but could not refute the fact that an infomercial man's death was more well known and "mourned" than one of Charlie's Angels. Then I proceeded to try and get her to name one dead female celebrity that had a more popular death since Anne Nicole Smith. Uhh. Just one, come on. Anyone that comes to mind. She responded by simply saying "One inch penis!"

"What?"

"ONE INCH PENIS!!!"

I'm sure this was directed to me, but the whole car was a little flabbergasted by the defense mechanism yelling that out loud for apparently no other reason than having nothing more to argue on the other subject. And as much as it would be funny if she was right, I am sure I am the textbook definition of average in the nether-regions. Regardless, the girl was probably t-minus one drink away from zzzz and I was in dire need of some grocery store frozen pizza, so the subject was dropped and most likely forgotten by the other party the next morning. My roommate still finds the whole thing funny. Quick side note on the whole Anne Nicole thing. It baffles me to this day. The girl was a thin to fat to thin to kinda fat junky with no brain cells. People wanted her to be the next Marilyn Monroe for no other reason than she sort of looked like her in a weird way. This is a fat cow that used to be a playmate who then married an old man on his deathbed and got a lot of money. Really? This is what the constant headlines were about? Did nothing better happen in the news that month? Then the whole thing with who got the money in the will and who was the father of the kid...ugh. It all disgusts me still.

Either way, I tried to think of what female celebrities could die today to make it a more popular story than Anne-Nicole Smith. Like front of newspapers and cnn.com popular. I decided it had to be Angelina Jolie and Oprah. Why Jolie? She is the hottest, most well-known American actress right now. Tons of charity work, no one cares. Adopted children, no one but those kids care. Bat**** crazy past with the sorts of Billy Bob, estranged father Jon Voight, and those sexy movies. Yup. That's what we'll remember. Oprah on the other hand is a great philanthropist (as blowhardy as she can be), encourages stuff like reading books, and is a role model to a lot women and African-Americans. Oh, and she is filthy rich. So in all reality, Oprah is the only legitimate female figure whose death would affect the public in a drastic manner. I'm not saying there aren't women whose deaths we wouldn't celebrate, there just aren't many the public has a relationship with that isn't based on purely superficial beauty reasons.

It Begins Again...

The last time I had a blog was about two years ago on myspace. I'm sure all ten or so of you are absolutely thrilled to the point of vomiting that I am posting stuff to help you waste time at work again, but who knows, someone may unwittingly read my blog by clicking on some keyword they searched for that has absolutely no relevance to this blog, but I just happened to type in that particular phrase ( FREE PS3 CURE FOR TACO BELL CUTE PICTURES OF PUSSY CATS -- hoping for two different misclicks on those last two words ). And with that said, I should put out the mission statement for this blog, even though I have absolutely no mission other than to motivate myself to start writing anything again. I'm not a writer that likes to hop online and whore attention with my life celebrations or problems for two reasons. 1. I'm not a writer in this format. I'm a blogger. Writer's actually accomplish something for the most part. 2. My life is not entertaining to you, and most of the time it is barely entertaining to me. If I have problems or whatever, I will be the first to make fun of them or at least relate it to something more interesting. I'm hoping to set up a real website in the somewhat near future, not because I'd have my own .com domain, but because I think being able to design a website is a really cool and profitable skill-set to have, so the blogspot address will have to do for now.

Anyway, I'm sure this has all been terrifically boring, and I'll have you all know I can be awfully long-winded in my blogs as well. I have opinions, (un)creative writing, and other weird stuff I plan on putting out there to entertain myself and you, and hopefully offends only a small minority of the readers. I very much look forward to any comments, praise, hate-mail, and disinterest halfway through reading. Like I said, this isn't so much for you as it is for me, which is the purpose of 100% of the blogs out there. People are vain in that they want to be heard, and I'm sure I'm no different. But I promise I won't be a blow-hard...too often. And with that all said...I forgot what I was going to say.