Doing a Massive Re-Read

... of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. Unfortunately it's turning out rather ass-backwards, since I started with A Feast For Crows and then jumped into the middle of A Clash of Kings to look something up and got sidetracked with that. At this rate, who knows when I'll get to Book 1?

I spent some time browsing various forums to see what thoughts people were having (and to see if there's any new word of when A Dance With Dragons will be out-- there's not-- rats!) I find it interesting that the POVs I like best don't seem to be the popular ones.

For instance the most popular POVs are Jon and Tyrion. While Jon has grown on me, I didn't like how dark Tyrion became in the last book. But I have to say Jaime has become my favorite POV, which came as a surprise in the third book (he took the "Kingslayer," this evil character, and made me like him) and is an example of how good writing trumps all. I could have done without getting inside Cersei's crazy head, though. I loved Dany in the first book, but she has gotten rather arrogant of late. I really enjoyed the Brienne chapters in the latest book. I am a fan of both Arya and Sansa (so naive, but I can't help thinking she's going to go somewhere, and I hope it's somewhere great), whereas most readers appear to only like one of the Stark girls. And lest you say, "Oh you just like the female POVs," I wasn't fond of Catelyn's chapters. People like Davos, but he bores me. Mainly because Stannis bores me, and I don't really care what happens in his storyline.

Apparently Theon's coming back from the dead for the next book. I was a fan of Theon. He was such a little shit, but redeemable. He just made bad choices. I like his sister Asha as well. The rest of the Greyjoys I could care less about. I wish GRRM had just picked one of them to use as a POV, because I thought getting Aeron, Victarion, and Asha in AFFC just needlessly complicated things. It worries me when he gets into these one-off POVs. I'd much rather stick with the same character repeatedly, with the exception of the prologue (the prologues in A Song of Ice and Fire are always told from the perspective of a "red shirt" type character... you know, the nameless guy who's the first one to bite it in a Star Trek episode). I feel the same way about Dorne-- we didn't need Hotah, Arianne, and Arys. This was a departure from previous books, and AFFC did feel a lot more diluted because of it.

Anyway. These are my thoughts. I heart Jaime. Who is not in the next book.

I hate George R.R. Martin.

This Is My 500th Post, Oh Yes It Is

Yeah, so I can't really think of anything interesting to celebrate it with. I could post a picture of my cat, since I would hazard a guess that 40% of the aforementioned 500 posts have featured my cat. But then I'd have to take the many cute pictures (and oh, they are cute) off my camera and put them on the computer, and I don't really feel like it.

So what am I doing? I'm having a day off. I'm writing a short story. I'm trying to decide what I should have for lunch. I'm doing a couple loads of laundry. I'm currently listening to "Perfect Blue Buildings" by Counting Crows.

I feel like I should be wearing a sign that says "THIS IS ME IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS," so people understand why I am zoned out and not responding to them. And also, why I look slightly like crap.

Star Wars Is 30 Today

This makes it older than me by almost exactly four years, so I don't have any of those memories of seeing it in the theater. Although I believe my parents (married 1978) saw it on a date. And we did camp out for both the Special Edition theater showings and Star Wars: Episode One when I was in high school.

But as anyone who's seen this site might be able to guess, I have a deep and abiding love for Star Wars that even the prequels could not quench. I think the first time I saw it I was five. And, like many kids who grew up in the '80's, we had our own crappy copies of the movies on VHS, taped off of TV, and we watched them every single weekend. We even had a homemade audio tape for when we went on car trips. Therefore I am really not kidding or exaggerating when I say that I can reliably recite every line of all three movies.

As evidence, I present a 2005 IM conversation between my brother and me:

Me: jabba wa ninchee co ee tane ti tanyee wanyaooska... he he he
Bro: Chuske nawa oochooto
Bro: Yes, I'll bet you have
Me: splat
Bro: Ches cuckoturo cristo crenho....yaposka!
Me: yaposka!

Which is, obviously, a reenactment of the scene where Han shoots first (but without the subtitles). Hel-lo.

I included this screenshot because it's my favorite scene in the Star Wars saga, and for me, it represents what Star Wars is all about. There is no dialogue in the scene, because there doesn't need to be. The music is enough. Because isn't this really what it's all about? Dreaming yourself somewhere bigger, somewhere with more adventure? Somewhere you can see the stars close up. Wanting more. And I think we are all glad that George Lucas found his "somewhere bigger."

Happy Birthday, Star Wars.

P.S. There are rumors that KOTOR 3 might be announced by LucasArts at Celebration IV tonight. It could just be a rumor, but I'm keeping an eye out!

Like A Pornstar on This Basestar

I was going to do a huge post about how Star Wars is 30 years old tomorrow and how much I love Star Wars. And then I was going to go watch Star Wars. But I also want to finish this short story I've been working on. And there is no DVD player in this room so I can do both at once. And the short story is unfortunately on the desktop and not the laptop.

So, instead of Star Wars, I give you the Battlestar Galactica Season 3 Gag Reel that had me very entertained on Monday. Particularly the bits with Baltar. And the George Bush joke. (Warning: spoilers for... let's see, you should be OK if you've seen Season 2, or at least Season 2 up through Final Cut. I mean, yes, it's Season 3, but you won't get what's going on anyway.)

But really, nothing is as fun as the hilarity that is Jolee playing with a plastic bag. Which he is currently doing, in between bird watching and chasing Starbuck. So what do I know?

Why Don't You See Me???

Wah. No matter how many times I manually ping Technorati, it won't see my posts. I'm still fiddling with my settings, but it's getting to be super irritating. I used to be able to use it as a resource to see who'd linked to me recently. But now it's like the new URL isn't here (although the old URL which I haven't posted to in months still has a ranking that's twenty times better, go figure). I've tried all different settings to get it to see my posts. I had this problem with the old site, until one day they up and indexed me just like that after months of complaining.

So. Go, like, link to me or something. Maybe it'll get the freakin' idea already.

Restaurant Meme

OK, I've been tagged by both NOLADawn and Sadie for the restaurant meme that's going around.

These are the rules:

1. Link to the name of the person who tagged you.
2. Include the state and country you’re in.
3. List your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location (locally).
4. Tag 5 other people (preferably from other countries/states) and let them know they’ve been tagged.

I am in New Orleans, LA, USA.

My five favorite restaurants are...

1. Upperline, Uptown. This is one of those great New Orleans restaurants that's sort of hidden. Well, not really. It's only two blocks off St. Charles, but it's not in the Quarter or in a tourist area. It's still worth finding, if you're visiting. The owner collects art, and the interior is funky and eclectic. You might as well drop the $50 and get the sampler that includes six or seven mini-portions of the fabulous, fabulous Creole food. It is worth it.

2. K-Paul's, French Quarter. We had one of our best meals of 2006 here, and therefore I am including it even though it's the sort of place we can't afford to go to a lot. It's just good Cajun, and while we were there some drunk old people just got up out of their chairs and started second lining around the dining room and we all shrugged and said, "Whatever" and clapped along, because stuff like that happens in New Orleans on a regular basis.

3. Bacco, French Quarter. I had the Most Amazing Appetizer Thing I've Ever Had here. Next time I'm just going to skip the entree and just get three of it. It involved oysters and artichokes and... oh I don't know, just trust me. It's one of the Brennan's restaurants, and it's a New Orleans twist on Italian.

4. Jacques-Imo's Cafe, Oak Street. I haven't had a bad meal at Jacques-Imo's, but it's really the sort of place you take your friends from out of town because it's super cool and weird and has crazy decor, rather than because of the food.

5. Nacho Mama's, Magazine Street. I think if you live Uptown you are either a Nacho Mama's person or a Juan's Flying Burrito person. OK, so it's not "New Orleans food" (although you can get a crawfish enchilada), but it is the only place we could accurately be said to frequent. Oh boy, do we frequent Nacho Mama's. We can split a pitcher of top shelf margaritas with the best of 'em.

5. a) Basil Leaf Thai
5. b) Sukho Thai

I didn't include them in my five because I can't decide which one I like best. But I think I have sampled all the Thai food places in New Orleans, and these are the best. Basil Leaf is on Carrollton and Sukho Thai is in the Marigny. I do love Thai food, except that I always seem to just get pad thai whenever I go out. Which is lame.

As an addendum, we are believers in Reginelli's for pizza and Five Happiness for Chinese. But I didn't count these either because we get delivery.

If you haven't done this one yet (I say this because I've seen like 4 of it today), consider yourself tagged!

Oh, To Be A Link

I love John Scalzi's uber-popular blog Whatever for many reasons-- it's a frequently updated chronicle of the life of a full-time writer, he has interesting posts on writing and SF, and he's politically liberal. But I gotta admit, I really love it when we get funny cat pictures... and there have been several this week. I suspect I wouldn't love it nearly as much if his cat Ghlaghghee (it's an alternate spelling of "Fluffy") didn't look exactly like Jolee.

"Kara Thrace and her Special Destiny. Sounds like a bad cover band." Clearly the best Starbuck line of Season 3. I said, "I totally want to make a band called Kara Thrace and her Special Destiny. In fact, I bet someone did." And then I realized that I'd actually seen the T-shirt floating around on the internet. At the time I didn't get what the joke referred to. So. Kara Thrace and her Special Destiny T-shirts. Get yours today.

Miss Snark, purveyor of fine publishing industry advice, announced her retirement this weekend. Miss Snark was one of the first blogs I really got into. She's going to keep the archives up so all that great snark will be available to future literary nitwits.

TFN posted spoilers for Karen Traviss' upcoming Star Wars novel Sacrifice. (Warning: this link contains details about plot points and character deaths.) I haven't kept up with the Star Wars novelizations since about halfway through the New Jedi Order series. I do occasionally pick up the odd Timothy Zahn book-- he's sort of the godfather of the Star Wars Expanded Universe-- but I haven't been reading this new series. However. For reasons that will become obvious if you follow the link (and know enough about the EU to identify the chick in my banner), I am pretty put out over this particular development. Screw you, Star Wars EU. We are not speaking.

Waahh

I don't know if I should go to Roly Poly or not. There isn't a lot of food here that's not of the pasta variety, and besides, I have a craving. On the one hand, I have no money. On the other hand, it's only six bucks. Is six bucks going to break me?

I want a California Turkey. Or a Smokehouse Turkey. Or perhaps a Hickory Chicken. It just occurred to me that my mango allergy apparently does not extend to the mango chutney that's on the California Turkey wrap. I wonder why that is. Why does my mouth not burn and go numb? Clearly if it was going to, it would have already during the eating of one of the 200 California Turkey wraps I have probably consumed in the past three years. Is it because it is cooked, processed, sugered mango?

I don't know. But it is magic.

In other news, the Sabres are out of the playoffs, having gone as far as the Eastern Conference finals for the second year running. Well played, Sabres.

Things That Terrify Me Right Now

1. The awful mutant tan line from Jazzfest that will not go away. Did a trip to Planet Beach even touch it? No.

2. The state of my kitchen. No, really. Click for the full effect. (I suspect that when my boyfriend makes his eggs in the morning, he leaves the frying pan on the stove ON PURPOSE just to see if, one fine utopian day, he will come home to find that I have cleaned it up. Unfortunately, today is not that day.) Also appearing in this picture: the detritus from last night's very successful (!! yay! finally!) chicken curry. And by successful, I mean that this time we are both still in possession of the skin on the roofs of our mouths.

3. The giant hospital bill.

4. I know the Cylons have a plan, but please tell me the BSG writers do.

5. The Ottawa Senators.

BSG Marathon, Hour 11

The BSG marathon is up to Eye of Jupiter. We watched the first five hours off our tape last night... through the part with the fly-by-night airlock executions. Thought they could have done the battle better. I just felt it was sort of blah. Also, I knew they were going to win because the Celtic Adama theme song played before Lee went off to Pegasus. That song means the Adamas are about to dominate. And we really thought the Kara/Leoben subplot was rushed. It just rubbed me the wrong way, not so much because he was emotionally and maybe sexually abusing her, oddly enough, but because she wasn't acting like Starbuck. If we had seen more of it, it might have made more sense.

Featured today is Number Six. Who is also not my space boyfriend (am refusing to acknowledge his existence until he stops being Fat Lee), being obviously not male, but is undeniably hot. I even like to look at her, and I am a heterosexual female. Six is that beautiful.

Funny BSG Tidbit of the Morning:
I joked last night that Adama was going to symbolically shave off the 'stache when he won his battle. AND HE DID.

BSG Thought of the Morning:
OK, I just saw a Leoben at the Cylon meeting. Finally! And how come the inside of the Base Star looks like the interior of a disco? The Cylons be clubbin'...

Only Related By a Name:
Here are three things Starbuck has crawled under/into in the past 24 hours.
1. The bathmat (I might have stepped on it and squashed her flat if I hadn't seen her crawl underneath)
2. A manilla envelope (yup, all the way inside)
3. The pocket of my pants (she did manage to get her entire head in)
See what I deal with.

Freaking Out, In Financial Ruin

I'm really not kidding.

Apparently the payment for my student health insurance that I sent back in the beginning of the fall semester never went through, and for some reason I was never enrolled. So, unbeknownst to me, I haven't had health insurance the entire year. I just found this out yesterday when my claim was denied.

And I'm now on the hook for almost $3,700 in medical bills from when I went to the E.R. in March.

I am freaking out.

I obviously do not and will not in the near future have $3,700 to pay this bill with. I would never have gone to the E.R. if I wasn't insured.

Full state of panic here. I do not know what to do. Preparing to spend my morning tracking down the paper trail of what the hell happened here.

Update: So I called Touro and the lovely, lovely lady in the accounts department reduced my bill down to $2,100. That puts me in slightly less financial ruin. Sigh.

BSG Marathon, Hour 3

My Battlestar Galactica marathoning is off and running this morning. We are into Hour 3 of the SciFi season 3 marathon that runs through Friday. BSG seven hours a day, three days a week! We have two VCRs programmed in two separate rooms to catch the marathon, even though I will be taking off for work at 10:30. Hopefully everything works as planned, so I can get all of Season 3. (Tapes... tapes are so archaic... why did it have to be tapes?)

In honor of the marathon, here we have a picture of resistance fighter Sam Anders, who, while not Apollo and therefore not my space boyfriend, is not entirely unhot in his own right. Also he has been particularly badass thus far in Season 3, for which he should be honored.

Best BSG Quote Thus Far:
Sharon (the one from Galactica): Sam. It's been a long time.
Anders: Funny, I feel like I see you every day.

BSG Thought of the Morning:
How come the Leobens don't get to go to the little Cylon meetings? Do the rest of the Cylons think that model is crazy, too?

Here's Where the Fun Begins

It seems like everyone is posting this one, but I got a laugh out of it, so... The Top 10 Han Solo Quotes You Need to Use in Regular Conversation. You know, considering that this blog uses a Han Solo quote in its banner. It's a good list.

Except I'm gonna go ahead and add one:

"I thought they smelled bad... on the outside!"
When to use it: When you're cleaning out your Katrina refrigerator after it's been sitting in 90 degree heat for a month, obviously. I know firsthand that this is the absolute best place to use this Han Solo quote. Because I used it. And it fit so, so well.

Down 3-0

You can feel free to picture me in my Chris Drury shirt, drinking a giant martini right about now.

I love you, Sabres... :sob:...

Jolee

... is watching you.

Starbuck

... might be mentally retarded. Seriously. Cats are supposed to be intelligent creatures. But she is... not. Do you think maybe the cat colony she came from was crazy inbred? (Yes, she crawled under there herself.)

WWC

I obviously haven't been out enough lately, so this is bothering me afresh, but I have to ask what is up with men who think that just because a woman is there, she is somehow asking to be hit on? Similar to the way DWB (Driving While Black) gives the police probable cause to pull you over, apparently WWC (Working While Cute) gives men license to hit on you.

So I'm working the door last night, and this guy who'd been sitting in the bar comes up to me. "You're new, aren't you? I'm ____."

I shook hands. "Nice to meet you. I'm Sarah."

"Yeah," he says, "only I really came over here because my friend wants to meet you."

Lord. If there is one pickup I hate, it is "the friend." It's pretty much the lamest thing ever. What it shows me is that your friend is a spineless fool who sends others to do his dirty work for him. Luckily some people came in the door just then, and I was able to beg off saying hi to the lame friend. But later they flagged me down as I was walking past the bar, and it became unavoidable. I chatted for a few minutes, because, well, I have a lot of friends who are guys, and I am not above meeting people and engaging in chat. The length of this conversation was no more than two minutes. Then "the friend" asks if he can give me his number. I politely explained that I had a boyfriend and was therefore taken, and therefore would not be calling him.

They exchanged looks. "Really! Because that wasn't the vibe we got!"

"What do you mean?"

"You gave off a single vibe."

Like, when? As I was standing in the door politely smiling and saying hello to people? As I was running around frantically bussing tables? As I was doing my job and completely ignoring you? How is that a "vibe"?

Yes, ladies, it's true. You should not be surprised and mildly annoyed by people hitting on you at work. Because you asked for it. By just being there. I really can't think of any way I would have been giving off a "vibe" other than the fact that I was tall, skinny, cute, and wearing a nice outfit and makeup. I suspect if I was less attractive, I wouldn't have given off a "single vibe." I suppose if I wore a sack to work and my eyes and hair looked as if I'd just rolled out of bed, then I would not be giving off a "single vibe." But I am not about to do that.

I don't know, it just seemed like such a sense of entitlement. Because I could not possibly be there for another purpose than picking up men. Give me a break.

(I didn't get hit on once when I wore the androgynous penguin suit. But I wouldn't go back to it if you paid me. I didn't realize how much I'd missed my real clothes!)

Still Can't Get Over It!

I quit my job! Without a word of warning! Ahahaha!

I still can't believe I did that. It's so not me. Or rather, maybe it's the old me. The me who didn't take any crap off anyone, because life is short, and there are parties to go to. Either way, it was long overdue, and I'm still giddy over it.

And also, my new job is great.

And also, it's summer!

... And Everything After

In honor of having missed the Counting Crows' show at Jazzfest this year, I'm doing a massive Crows listen-fest this afternoon (along with coffee and some writing). It is sort of a harsh blow to go to Jazzfest two days, neither of which are the day your favorite band in the history of, well, ever is playing. Although it did flood that afternoon and the Sabres pulled out a hell of a game, so there were also reasons it would have sucked to go. And I will say that both Norah Jones and John Mayer, who we did see, were great.

Still. We can take a moment to sigh.

In order to do my listen-fest, you will be interested to know, I had to download about five songs from iTunes to complete August and Everything After (I already had the other half in the form of illegal MP3s). I believe this makes it not only the first album I ever purchased, but also the only album I've purchased three times. The reason I didn't have it on the computer is because I seem to have lost the CD, and well, the tape I bought when I was 13 doesn't translate well to MP3 format. And yes, I count paying five bucks for half an album on iTunes "purchasing." Such is the life of the starving grad student. But it's all good, because now I can burn it onto a CD and have the entire album once again. This is one of those albums I have listened to so many times that I was able to fill in the track info in iTunes (which song goes where) just off the top of my head.

Anyway. I love the Counting Crows. They were sort of throwback neo-70's rock (which I also love) in the era of grunge. Plus I think Adam Duritz and I are soulmates. There are lyrics that speak to me in every single song. It's introspective insomniac rock for people who think too much.

Here are my Top 10 Favorite Counting Crows songs, in no particular order:

1. Miami (Hard Candy)
It just gets hard to believe that god sent this angel to watch over me
'Cause my angel, she don't receive my calls
She says I'm too dumb to fuck, too dumb to fight, too dumb to save
Well maybe I don't need no angel at all

2. Amy Hit the Atmosphere (This Desert Life)
If I could make it rain today
And wash away this sunny day down to the gutter, I would
Just to get a change of pace

3. Mr. Jones (August & Everything After)
I want to be a lion, everybody wants to pass as cats
We all want to be big, big stars
We got different reasons for that
Believe in me, 'cause I don't believe in anything
And I want to be someone to believe

4. Have You Seen Me Lately? (Recovering the Satellites)
Yeah you got a piece of me, but it's just a little piece of me
And I don't need anyone
And these days I feel like I'm fading away
Like sometimes when I hear myself on the radio
Have you seen me lately?

5. A Murder of One (August & Everything After)
I've been watching you for hours
It's been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I've been wondering where we've gone

6. Mrs. Potter's Lullaby (This Desert Life)
Well, I woke up in midafternoon, 'cause that's when it all hurts the most

7. Anna Begins (August & Everything After)
It does not bother me to say this isn't love
'Cause if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
And I guess I'm going to have to live without
But I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray or something in between
And I can always change my name, if that's what you mean

8. She Don't Want Nobody Near (Films About Ghosts)
She don't want nobody near, but you can't get away from that
They appear and disappear, and they all get a string attached
Pretty soon they've got you hanging on the line
Pretty soon they're singing one by one the same old rhyme
They say, I'm all right, I just can't get home tonight

9. Perfect Blue Buildings (August & Everything After)
I want to get me a little oblivion, baby
Try to keep myself away from me

10. Angels of the Silences (Recovering the Satellites)
I dream of Michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed
Little angels hang above my head and read me like an open book
And suck my blood, break my nerve, offer me their arms
I will not be an enemy of anything
I'll only stand here waiting for you

Countdown

Days left until BSG marathon: 5!

I must purchase videotapes. (How stone age.)

Feeling very sluggish today, despite alternating disbelief and euphoria about never having to report to ____ again. They are probably shaking their heads over what a horrible, irresponsible person I am. Meh. Whatever. I finally stopped being the Girl Who Cried Quit and just quit. It's crazy that I worked there for over a year, and I didn't even like it. I don't think I ever liked it. I have been dealing with these little assaults to my dignity, ever since they assigned one of the rudest people I have ever met to train me (she spoke to me so condescendingly, as if she thought I was mentally slow... this was a corporate trainer too!) way back last March. Don't even get me started on the white trashy manager who doesn't know proper English, or the one who talks in baby voices while at work. Oy. I'm just glad to be out, and feeling rather peaceful. Think I'm going to brew some coffee. I know, it's weird to brew coffee at 12:30 in the afternoon, when I've been up since 8:30 AM, but it was one of those things where I thought I could live without it.

But I've changed my mind.

Take This Job and Shove It

So I drove down to Magazine Street, paced up and down in the sun making phone calls to a few of my friends while I waited for the lunch rush to be over, and then walked into ___ at 2:00. I asked, were they hiring? The girl at the desk said she didn't know about servers, but they desperately needed greeters, and she would get the manager. Lo and behold the manager walks out of the kitchen at that moment.

"Never mind," I say, grinning. "I know him." And here it is, the big moment. Where my luck changes. Because he also used to work at That Place, last year, and is now the GM of this particular restaurant. He says he needs a greeter like you would not believe, and hires me on the spot. Some of their servers will probably be leaving for the summer in a few weeks, and I can work at the door until then.

"I'll start you at $10 an hour. How far away do you live? Go home, put on a black shirt, and come back in an hour, and you can work tonight."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not kidding."

I said I was scheduled to work at _____ tonight.

"F@$* 'em," he said.

So I called ______ and told them I wasn't coming in tonight, nor ever. And then I worked the dinner shift at my new job. In tight black pants and a cute shirt. And it was everything I thought it could be. :-)

Why Watching Office Space Was Exactly What I Needed

Peter: It doesn't really matter. I, uh, I don't like my job. And I don't think I'm gonna go anymore.
Joanna: You're just not going to go?
Peter: Yeah.
Joanna: Won't you get fired?
Peter: I don't know. But I really don't like it. And I'm not gonna go.
Joanna: So you're going to quit?
Peter: Uh-uh. Not really. I'm just going to stop going.

Manager: Joanna, we need to talk. Do you know what this is about?
Joanna: My, ah, flair?
Manager: Or your lack of flair, because I'm counting and I only see fifteen pieces. Let me ask you a question, Joanna. What do you think of a person who only does the bare minimum?
Joanna: Huh, what do I think? You know what, Stan? If you want me to wear 37 pieces of flair like your pretty boy over there, Brian, why don't you make the minimum 37 pieces of flair?
Manager: Well, I thought I remembered you saying you wanted to express yourself.
Joanna: Yeah. You know what? Yeah, I do. I do want to express myself, OK? And I don't need 37 pieces of flair to do it? (Gives him the finger.) All right? There's my flair, OK? And this is me, expressing MY-SELF! I hate this job! I hate this goddamn job and I don't need it!

Let's Vote

So I think we all know I hate my job. It puts me in a bad mood to work there, it resembles a clique run by 19-year-old giggling girls, and despite working there for a year, I've never managed to move up in the scheme of things. The thing is, I generally make over 20% tips and am told by customers on a regular basis that my service is excellent. So I know I'm not a bad server.

I just had this moment on Tuesday morning, this pleasantly uplifting moment, when I thought, "I don't have to work here. What if I stopped?" And I have not been able to get rid of the thought. It has been stewing in my mind ever since. We'll call it an epiphany. My Jerry Maguire moment. The problem is, I have to work tonight. But after dwelling for the past two days on the happy possibility of never having to go there again, I don't really feel like going.

I don't want to not give two weeks notice, because it's just been drilled into my head that it's the right thing to do. But, as Mike pointed out, why? It's employment at will, and I do not receive any benefits. I don't have to give them notice. I don't have to do anything. It's a waitressing job, it's not in my field, and I don't even have the place on my resume (I decided against putting it on because a) it's just my dumb part time job, and b) the decision not to include it allowed space for another prior job that was further in the past but actually related to my career field). So of course once this insidious idea of just quitting entered my head, it was difficult to get rid of. Plus I signed up to work two doubles back to back over Mother's Day, and you know what? I don't want to. I feel like I do favors for this place and they never do anything to give back.

What I really want to do is go work at a sandwich shop or a busy pizza place for two months, somewhere chill on Magazine Street, where I can wear my regular clothes and look cute and still make okay money, and then start my "real job" in August. It occurred to me on Tuesday that it's my summer, and there's no reason to spend it unpleasantly. And OK, I guess if I was applying for other waitressing jobs, I should want to use them as a reference... but depending on which manager they speak to (I admit to being sort of antagonistic toward the two dumb-as-rocks ones), I might not get a good one anyway. I just don't think they like me there, and I am not sure why.

Well. I know why. It's because I don't kiss anyone's ass, I don't make that place my life, and once I had the realization that I wasn't one of the "special" people who get "special" privileges and nothing I could ever do would make me "special," I kind of stopped putting in the effort. Wouldn't you, though? That's the problem with favoritism... when it runs rampant in a place of employment, it lowers the incentive for your workers who are not favorites to work hard. It's just lame. There is this little clique of college sophomores who are "in" with the managers and think it's fun to play "let's run a restaurant!" And anyone who is not them cannot deal with working with them because they're always gossipping and tattling and bossing. And it's like, I'm an adult. I've had full-time jobs. I'm so not in that place anymore. The only reason I dealt with it so long is that I was always in class and didn't have the time to train somewhere else.

I have a couple of choices regarding how I want to do this. First of all, I am going out this afternoon and doing the rounds at a bunch of restaurants. Little places, though, no fine dining. I am over the androgynous penguin suit. I figure, if I get lucky and someone hires me on the spot, I'll just call in and say, "Peace." Or, I could go in to work tonight and tell them I'm not coming back. Of course then I'd have to quit in person and not over the phone... and I'm afraid I'll rant or cry or back down. But if I DON'T find any leads on jobs this afternoon, then I don't know. I guess I'll give two weeks. But I just don't want to work there another two weeks. I'm telling you, you do not understand how uplifting and personally gratifying the idea of never going back is to me right now. Or, I could go in to work and instigate something, then walk out. I have heavily contemplated this in the past, on really bad shifts where I was getting the shit end of the preferential seating treatment (the managers tell the hostesses to give more tables to certain people, instead of going down the list in order), but didn't have the balls to do it. The downside is I wouldn't be able to put them down as a reference. On the flip side, I'm not sure other restaurant managers really care. People are walking out and getting fired all the time, and everyone manages to get a new job within the week. It's a transient business, and it's a restaurant town.

So... should I quit my job today?

Sabres: So Hot Right Now

I watched the Sabres take out the Rangers in Game 6 at the restaurant during my break on Sunday. (I made them put the game on, because Mike and I are arguably among an estimated 20 people in the entire city of New Orleans who A) know the Buffalo Sabres exist, and B) care about their series.) The Rangers scored first. It was the only lead they would have the entire game. I sat and enjoyed a cheeseburger and a Coke as the Sabres went up 4-2. Someone came by and asked if I wanted anything.

I looked past them at the game. "No," I said, smiling and leaning back in the booth. "This is all I need."

I love the Sabres. I loved their crucial overtime win in Game 5, and the ensuing shootout in Game 6 that clinched the series. I was watching when they lost in the Eastern Conference Finals in 1998 and 2006. I was up at 3 AM in 1999 for the Brett Hull goal. I had a Dominik Hasek poster on my wall in college.

Even the new logo (much maligned and nicknamed the Buffaslug because, well, yeah) is starting to grow on me. Last week I began to think it was kind of cute. Because it's not really a slug. Maybe it's more like a comet. Which means that its destiny is somewhere out in the stars. Which can only mean good things.

The Buffaslug is made of gold. Believe it.

Sabres vs. Senators tomorrow night. I would not be surprised if this series goes to seven games.

Stupid Kitten

For those that responded to the picture of Starbuck's cuteness below, I just want to say, "What-ever." I am so over her cuteness. She may LOOK cute. But she is the most annoying small creature on the planet Earth. For not one but two days in a row, she has woken me up too early with her attempts to ACTUALLY CLIMB THE WALLS OF OUR BEDROOM. I am not kidding. She keeps trying to run up to the top of the couch and then scale the wall.

I'm going to give her away. Does anyone want a half-grown gray kitten with a penchant for racing over people's legs at 7 AM and CLIMBING WALLS?

Also, she will build things out of your newspapers and methodically tear them into strips.

Also, she will terrorize your other cats.

And meow a lot for no reason, even though she has food, water, and a litter box, and is not dying.