The Thursday Diaries of the Pre-apocalyptic Waitress.

Please don't chew gum while you're waiting tables. I mean, really.

I need to repink my hair. Candy pink. Candy Darling. It makes me happy, which this time of year does not.

Thanks for sneezing on the menu, sir.

Oh god. Shut up.

I'd like to go somewhere for wine and a cheese plate. That sounds so nice. Little crackers and stuff.

So windy. I wish the power would go out here. Or, you know, the world could end. Ha.

"I got you a little happy! I got yew a little g

You just stood behind me, tap tap tapping like that?

I need my pre-apocalypse drink. That's where everybody is.

Oo! One check! Totally unexpected!  Thanks!
And now you're playing that Dirty Santa gift exchange thing. No thank you.

on and on and on

Chocolate covered espresso beans are my jam. A perfect speedball would be two or three + a klonopin.Chew them all up together.

on
and
on
and
on
and

It's because hardly anyone has to work tomorrow, holiday and all. If I was off tomorrow I'd be on my way to hell already and I don't have quite that many pills stockpiled.

What. it's either that or massive anxiety attack. and even then

Drama! Walkout! Which way did he go?
Bartender MIA!
Motherfuckers!
Who knew a pudgy drunk guy full of lamb could run so fast?

Pussies. Grown fucking men.

So what's supposed to happen when the world ends? Does it explode? Implode?  Or just, eh, end.

Brothers!  Sisters! We don't need this fascist groove thang!

I can think of not much better than this hot toddy right now. Maybe if there was a melatonin dissolved in it and I could sleep like a maniac.
Like a maniac? How is that?

We need to edit that thing tomorrow.  That thing I do.

Hold onto your breath Hold onto your heart Hold onto your hope

Turn 'em into
turn 'em into
turn 'em into flies.

No, that's not the line. It's a "tournament of lies" which sounds, I don't know, too poetic or something.

Sometime I feel like an intruder in this group of cool freaks and I expect at any moment the secret police will bust in and drag me out.

He could probably be Alex, or at least the template for Alex.  Alex is little shady, but not like he'll steal your stuff shady just, you know, a little unleashed. He's a romantic at heart, but his heart has been broken and he has been a reactive slut for a while. Reactively slutty. Reactivist slut.

I'm ready to make another movie.

This is happening.  Our doc is in competition with a doc about George Plimpton.
Apparently last year they had a mobile sushi bar.  I would like to insist that it follows me around. I'll bet it's from this place. Didn't they have a fried catfish roll or something like that? Am I making that up?
We drank after hours at Ajax Diner that one time, with the keyboard guy from the Barbaras, whose name I can never remember.  But also, Tyler Keith? Did he work there?

Wow. That was a quick response. And great feedback. He should be a film professor. 

Sometimes I just go there to wish people happy birthday. It can get kind of overwhelming dontchaknow.

We are incorporated now. Oddly Buoyant Productions, Inc. We need new business cards.

I guess that popcorn will be down there forever unless I eat it. How does an office full of filmmakers not eat popcorn? I could live on popcorn and Greek salads. Don't skimp on the cheese.

I need more space on this desk; my desk downtown is a spacious. Also, I need a new computer.  I'm the secretary/treasurer of Oddly Buoyant, Inc.; I should have a decent workspace, right? And I want this to be on it.

As mayor of the munchkin city, in the county of the Land of Oz

I should make a casserole or a big pot of something. Also. bourbon balls.  It's going to be wintery. Finally. I want snow this time. Significant snow, and on my day off please.

I need to figure out what I'm wearing for our Xmas party.  Also, I guess I need to buy gifts or make gifts.  I would like a basket with wine and natural girly bathy things, yes.  No vanilla crap! Ew.

"He was the pimp daddy of all daddies and he drove a Volvo." - T. C. Sharpe on Cowboy Urles.  That just cracks me up.

These people live in the margins of life.

I should probably charge my phone.

This has been in my head since Thursday. March up to the gate and bid it open. Open.

The Thursday Diaries

I hate I hate I hate

I am the sulky waitress tonight. Someone just gave me a sugar-free Red Bull. Now I can be sulky and wired. Apparently now there's a Red Bull Zero or some such thing, for those who cannot deal with those TEN CALORIES.

I am not very good at this diet thing. Plus, it's party season. All that cheese and wine. I should be European and eat that for lunch tomorrow.

Is it time to send you home yet?

And then after all the parties is the whiteflour whitesugar salt fest of fucking Christmas.  Ugh.
I used to like it a lot more. Where did that go?

Stop. Doing. That. WHYAREYOUDOINGTHAT? Don't you have a vacation to go on? And I realize you're busy with your one fucking table, but really? Take your wine list to the front LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE. Really.

I need a glass of wine. How long? 3.5 hours at the very least.

Stop hovering!!!!

No, I will not play word games with you.

It's them crazy Chinese herbs what done it!

2.5 hours.
iiiiii
I would do this every Thursday but it's hard to phone it.

lalllllalllalala
And it would be the same thing every week

A Day in the Life - Thanksgiving 2012

The picture I took of the coffee maker was too blurry.

I started watching what I thought was the parade, but turned out to be some lame pre-parade nonsense.

I made blueberry crisp.

Yay! Parade!

Blueberry crisp.

Rockettes! Bow down before me!

I went outside to look at the Japanese maple.

Our housewatcher came by to get the keys and I learned that this is referred to as "drunken octopus wants to fight you".

I had enough coffee.

I am barely tall enough to do a self-portrait in this mirror.

I watched the dog show while I waited for El Destructo to finish packing.

We hit the road.

We are heading to a place a little north of Jackson.

We play music with an iPod connected to this jam box...

...because we lost the radio somehow during Indie Memphis a couple of years ago.

We do have this neat steering wheel cover.

Mississippi looks like this a lot.

Automotive dance party decor.

Grenada is halfway between Memphis and Jackson.

We stopped at this combination Exxon and Huddle House, where they apparently don't believe in lemonade. Whatever.

Windshield.

We are almost to the sisters' house when we see this gigantic Nissan plant, which looks like a battleship.

El Destructo is the Potato King.

Turkey.

There was a ping pong table set up.

I didn't ever play, but it was very photogenic.

My sister serves the stuffing.

We drank this deliciousness in addition to other deliciousnesses.

Dinner, minus cranberry sauce because I left the cranberries in Memphis. It was good regardless.

Seth had dinner too.

I brought toys for a secret stop motion animation project.

Seth got high on catnip.

The blueberry crisp got a little sloshed in the car so it was more like cobbler, but it was yummy.

I forgot to take any pictures after this, so you can make up your own story from here on.

The Antenna Diaries

This happened:

These things also happened:

Current distraction/obsession

The Antenna Diaries

It's a real thing. It's really happening.