the old forgotten feeling...

I'm in a daze.

I have to force myself to focus on normal things like driving, reading the news, etc. Inevitably my mind wanders back to our date. To things we said. To our text exchange afterwards. To possible future dates. To gestures. To all the things we have in common.

It's fun and exciting and nerve-racking and painful and wonderful all at the same time. Butterflies, lack of concentration, anticipation, questions.

I had forgotten what this feeling was like.

Floating. Cherishing. Breathing.

floating on air

So, I just read the cutest little blog by my friend Trinh about having a crush. Trinh likens the feeling of having a crush on someone to bubbles floating through the air. I think that's an apt description. Like on tv when you see someone whistling and floating through their usual daily routine, and the people around him say, "what's gotten into him??".

That's how I feel today too. Sigh...

I finally picked up the phone and called him this morning, and we're going on an official lunch date this Friday! I'm so excited! I'll definitely be floating around until then.

Table from Hell

I just got off my second double shift in a row, which means 24 hours of work in two days. Thank god I have tomorrow off.

My feet hurt like hell, I'm fatigued, and my mind feels like a zombie. And on top of all that, my last table was one of those that you would gladly hand the tip right back to - and then some - just to go back in time and never serve them.

As soon as I walked up to the table I knew they were going to be annoying. They were three middle-aged men, all in suits, and out to have a good time. And not in the fun way, but in the obnoxious way. First they ordered cocktails, and when asked what kind of vodka they would prefer stated unequivocally that "Ketel One is the only vodka in America!" Uh, okay.

Then, while my other tables waited patiently for me to take care of them, I told these guys the specials. We have many specials at the Med, and they are detailed. They proceeded to interrupt every single one with either a question or a comment. I finally got through them all and then they asked 18 more questions about them. Then they asked for recommendations for appetizers. I told them what they should get, and, here it comes, the best comment of the night, "I hope they're going to be good, your whole tip depends on it!"

They still wouldn't let me leave. One of them was "really a sauce guy" and wanted to know all about each of our pasta sauces and which would be best to substitute for the one that comes with the special of the day. At that point I was fighting all my urges (and I'm normally an incredibly patient person when it comes to my tables) to tell them they are idiots and they should go to the Olive Garden.

Finally I tell them I need to go take care of my other tables, and surprisingly they let me (but not without some stupid attempts at humor with comments about how 'my other tables don't really want me to take care of them').

The rest of their meal experience is a combination of more ridiculous comments and entirely too many personal questions about where I'm from and why I'm here. And instead of just ordering extra shots of limoncello (after the first complimentary round), they tried their hardest to talk me into sneaking them some free ones. Uh, are you kidding me? I told them, "As much as risking my job sounds like fun, I'm going to go ahead and ask my boss if you can have them".

Yeah, then they stayed until the entire restaurant was empty and the only people left were me, the two bussers, the bartender, and the manager. All hanging out at the bar waiting for them to leave. They were totally oblivious. They paid their tab, and then sat and talked. And sat. And talked. Finally my manager let me go. Who knows, maybe they're still there.

And here I am, venting to you. My computer screen. I have to admit, I feel a little better now.

May this be a lesson to you all: Don't make jokes about your server's tip, it's never funny and they are inwardly cursing you. Don't ask your server to repeat the specials four times, it's not cool and they are inwardly cursing you. Don't ask several personal questions about your server's background, you don't need to know all that and they are inwardly cursing you. Don't beg your server for free drinks, they will give them to you if they can and want to, and they are inwardly cursing you. And don't stay in a restaurant long after the rest of the guests have left and the entire place is clean, at this point the entire staff is cursing you.

My Med

Despite the fact that I'm still working as a waitress, long after I promised myself I was done with it, I'm really enjoying the restaurant that I work at now.

It's Mediterraneo Caffee, on Federal Hill. 'The Hill' is an area of Providence known for its large population of Italians and good restaurants. And 'The Med' is considered by many to be the best restaurant on the hill. One of the things I like most about it is that almost all the employees are Italian. Some Italian-Americans, but also some that are actually from Italy. We have three main chefs, all are from Italy and all are really fun guys. Several of the cooks are from Italy and even a couple of the front-of-the-house guys. So they are always speaking Italian to each other, it's awesome!

And speaking of guys, almost all of my coworkers are guys. After working at my last restaurant where many of the girls were catty and stressed out all the time, I feel like I am working in an all boys private school now. They joke and play and act like boys, it's hilarious and fun.

Oh yeah, and the money is way better than most other restaurants. Hooray for that!

I'm glad that I like my job for the time being. There will undoubtedly come a time when I am sick of it and maybe even hate it, but for now it's fun. And I might even pay some bills too.

Mahalang

Sometimes I really miss having my close friends around me. Every now and then I get "mahalang" (homesick or nostalgic, for my one Rhode Island friend who reads this) for Guam and for my friends over there. I have made a few fun friends here, but it's not quite the same as hanging out with people that you grew up with. There is no automatic assumption that you will go out for coffee together over the weekend, or to the usual bar on Friday. There are no regular phone calls, late night talks about relationships, three-hour-long discussions about life's uncertainties, and certainly no crying on shoulders. I don't know my friends' family members, let alone feel like they are extensions of my own family.

Every time I see an In Style magazine I think of Erika. Every time the topic of swimming comes up, I think of Claudia. Every time I see a group of girls going out together, I think of my fun circle of friends. Every time I hear John Mayer or Stevie Wonder, I think of Sirenu. Every time I hear reggae music, I think of DUB. Every time I hear this song, it reminds me of my year in Europe and how much I missed home (and on a side note, it also makes me want to marry Michael Buble).

So Erika and Claudia - my two best girls - and I have been sending these silly emails back and forth and we searched our archives for some fun pictures. I thought these two defined our relationships well :)

Guam, As Seen From New England

Anyone from New England: Where are you from?

Me: Guam

Anyone from New England: (small laugh), No seriously, where are you from?

Me: I really am from Guam

Anyone from New England: Wait a second, you mean Guam is a real place? I always thought it was just a joke!

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I have had this exact conversation (or other forms of it) 948 times since August. It's bizarre. In most other parts of the world, and the US for that matter, people have either never heard of Guam or they are familiar with its military affiliation. That's it. There are no jokes about Guam in other regions.

Apparently here it is freakishly common to say, "It's so far away it's in Guam", or "She's from Guam" (meaning some place really far away, like Pennsylvania).

How does one properly respond to this weirdness? I have yet to figure that out...

Scar Tissue - Good Read

I am reading a really great book right now, which doesn't happen all that often (especially when one is a full time student), so I wanted to share.

Scar Tissue is an autobiography by Anthony Kiedis, the lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. In it he describes - with surprisingly intimate detail - his years of drug use, his history with songwriting and singing, his relationships with women, struggles with fame, the ever changing dynamic of the band, etc.

It's such an easy and fun read that I know I'll be done with it way too soon. Then what am I going to read???

The Sun Beckons

The weather is gorgeous outside today. And I'm sitting inside, in fleece pajamas, playing around on the computer. I'm not sure what that makes me, but I am sure that I will be dealing with a guilty conscience all evening if I don't do something outside today.... but what do I do?

high-and-mighty me

Yesterday I had a dreadful conversation with a good friend. He had all these pent-up feelings that came flying out at me in a passionate and lengthy outburst.

Apparently every time we eat together I discuss the nutritional contents of the food, and make cracks about how fattening his food is. This whole time I thought I was making interesting conversation, or 'busting his chops' like I do about most things. I thought I was being funny. But it turns out he was secretly grinding his teeth each time, and not saying a word about how I was making him feel. Until yesterday.

After eight months of friendship and hanging out, he has come to the conclusion that I have this inner judgment and prejudice against people who are overweight. That when I look at someone I instantly see them as either fat or skinny, and if they're fat then I have to find other reasons to like them or something. Which is so weird for me, because (and I know Danny will attest to this) I always feel like I play the 'advocate' in most conversations, blasting my conversation partners for making offensive comments, like referring to someone as "the big girl" or something.

He called me "High and Mighty", and said I "make people feel like second-class citizens".

Ouch.

Obviously my comments and jokes came across in a completely different way than I intended. On the one hand I want to take this as constructive criticism and maybe change the way I talk to people at times. And on the other hand I'm pissed off that a good friend would say things like that to me and call me names and cause me to be paranoid about the effect I have on people and their perceptions of me.

Scolding me is just about the worst thing someone can do to me. In recent months I've realized that it serves only to make me feel offended, angry, and then to withdraw. Ask my brother and Logan.

It's still too soon for me to decide if I'm going to view this as a wake-up call about him or about myself. Maybe both.

If anyone reading this has honest, constructive thoughts for me, I wouldn't mind hearing them at all. I'm pretty sure only my close friends have access to this blog, so feel free to vent.

the big 2-9

It's been one week since my 29th birthday. I'm 29.

I celebrated with three meals. Lunch with John, lunch with Trinh, and dinner with family. They were all lovely. Even though I had to contribute to dinner with family and we had brownies instead of a cake. But it still counts. Trisha didn't have candles so she put a sparkler in my brownie, it was awesome.

Now I'm 29.

Every time I say it I get a little more used to it.

new blog old blog

I swear I had an account here last year. I thought I would just pick it up where I left off and start adding to it again, but apparently this is the 'new blogger'. It looks the same to me. I should still be able to see my old stuff. But whatever. Here I am again. Let's hope it lasts this time...