House of Boobs

Tonight I was working at House of Boobs and pulled out a writing pad I had grabbed from the SOL office before I left work there this afternoon and, on the front of it, in block writing, read "Bitch Face" with hearts around it.  This seems to just about sum up the bulk of my big-breasted, twenty something year old co-workers.  As if being 12 didn't suck enough the first time I have now entered round 2.  Anyways, so I headed to the ladies room after I had checked on all my customers, walked passed two women standing in front of the sink, and went into one of the two stalls (I often choose the handicapped one, I find the extra space offers me a diluted sense of freedom when I'm stuck serving tables all day).  I sat down to pee and suddenly a bright light started flashing and I hear, "girl you look so good tonight, take another one *click*, ya, your hair looks sooo good, lets get one together now, ahahaha *click*, seriously girl, you look soooo good tonight.  I love that top on you *click click*.  I sat on the toilet thinking to myself, holy shit, I'm in Orange County!  This, my friends,
is the land where people incessantly call one another girl and they pose for pictures of each other in the women's wash room.  I walked out of the stall and squeezed through the two busty blonds and the one looked at me as I was about to wash my hands and said, "oh, we'll have 2 more Belvederes and Cranberries".  Seriously.  This is the land where grown women call one another "bitch face" as they heart the i's, the one were breasts are, well, fuck the metaphors, they speak for themselves, the one where women dress up in a sliced up version of a prom dress to hang out at a neighborhood sports bar, and where it's apparently acceptable to pose for pictures in the washroom as you place orders to your server while she's exiting a stall after taking a leek.  It's a land where men's triceps outweigh their minds, and probably their dicks, and their existence is validated by the number of unoriginal tattoos they have on their bodies.  I have to say, I walked out of there tonight feeling quite refreshed.  Similar to how a caterpillar must feel when it's ass has been hanging out in bird shit all day, partially violated by the bird that shit on it's leaf, but also quite exhilarated once the shit finally dries up and chips right off.  From now on, those guys are all "Chip" to me, fresh shit that will eventually chip off once they dry up.  And trust me, it's sunny California, in time, that shit always dries up.

Eradicating Telemarketers and Coping with Diversity

Hunter's drinking a gallon of milk a day in order to gain weight, he's given a whole new meaning to the term lactose intolerant.  Sometimes I look over at him and he's slumped on the couch staring at a half drunken glass of milk with the most pathetic look on his face, forcing himself to keep on going.  It's funny, outside of our little home, the rest of the world is living off of bun-less hamburgers and raw broccoli while my boyfriend consumes 2% milk and 6 meals a day with the hope of gaining 25 pounds in a month.  I've never seen such a skinny figure look so bloated and filled with anguish.  But fear not, I loaded up on gas x and the bathroom has an entire cup of matches by the toilet.  My hope is that I suffer as little as possible through out this experiment.

I've decided to buy a safety whistle, not so much for the late night strolls, I'm buying one for telemarketers.  They won't stop calling me on my cell phone, in spite of the fact that I have requested that they take me off their list 4 times now.  So I've decided to buy the fox40 sonic blast.  I'm so excited.  For the first time in my life I look forward to getting that call.  The minute I hear the voice of a human I'm blowing that thing right into the phone.  Those fuckers will rue the day they ever dialed my number.

My life is actually really good right now.  Sometimes I find myself smiling for no reason, the only time I can remember doing that in the past was when I was high on something.  Although I hate my waitressing jobs, I'm making more money than I ever have before and it's really nice not to worry about how I'm going to pay my bills.  SOL is still a nuisance in my life, the infamous brother and sister clan, D and Pediphilio, are ravaging the human race, one young woman at a time.  My other job, HOB, is interesting.  I don't get yelled at and harassed regularly but my new boss, Anorexia, is a little weird.  For Christmas, she gave me a picture of herself. It was taken in front of a Christmas tree inside the bar and she was dressed up in a sexy elf uniform posing with her snow white, bony arms out to the side and a freaked out look on her face, her lips slanted upward in an awkward smile.  This semi-professional world that I live in seems to be laced with crazy people who either make me feel even more out of my own mind or absolutely normal, depending on the day. 

P.S.  Hunter is starting a counter blog to set the record straight, it will be called "My Fabulous Fucking Girlfriend and Her Gasless Fabulous Quirks".  Actually, we're still negotiating the name.

Starting the New Year

Towards the end of 2010, my life became an assemblage of comings and goings as I desperately searched for a solution to the ever-growing fear of financial insecurity that seemed to hijack my physical, emotional and spiritual well-being. I prayed, relentlessly, for a job that would pay the bills, what I wound up with was 4 jobs, chronic back pain and not a moment to myself. My sponsor asked me recently if my God has limitations.  At the time it seemed like a strange question seeing that we're raised to believe that God is limitless. But when I really put thought into it, I realized that my God, the one I've chosen for my belief system is filled with limitations. When I envision what I want for myself, it seems to have nothing but limits. I've spent my life basing the kind of jobs I can have on my lack of intelligence, my lack of connections, my lack of confidence and my poor memory. I've believed that I can only have a small amount of friends because too many would be an invasion of my comfort zone. I've put limits on my happiness because I've believed that the only way to be properly prepared for the other shoe to drop is to never let go of my sadness. I've put limitations on fun because I've grown to believe that to truly have a good time involves money and the "right" places with the "right" people. I've put limits on my ability to succeed, believing that success is measured by what I have and who I know. 

So, I've taken on a new God; something more expansive and not so limited.  This particular God is a man, a woman, a dog, a tree, the peacefulness of my apartment, the love I have with Hunter, my mother's voice, my sister's laugh, the ocean, the sunset, Bob Dylan's lyrics, sometimes just the comfort of being quiet in my own head.  I'm tired of the false humility that comes with constantly putting myself down.  Why can't i be amazing?  Why can't I be smart?  Why can't I achieve what I want to?  This year I am turning 30.  I'm going to dedicate it to healthy action and the rejection of fear, limitations and self-hatred.  I'm excited, I really am.  There's been a shift lately in my thinking.  A kind of "I don't give a fuck, it will all work out" kind of mentality.  I'm tired of worrying and thinking that everyone has it together except me.  I'm tired of thinking I'm supposed to be in a specific place that is contrary to where I am at. 

I have an amazing boyfriend who compliments my strengths and defects with his own, how I got so lucky to find someone as good for me as Hunter, is beyond me.  I have a loving family and a truly great relationship with them.  I have attainable dreams that fill me with excitement.  These are diamonds in the rough, the things we live for.  I've spent my entire life looking for the weed in a bed of roses, and then wondered why I'm so unhappy.  So here's to freedom from limitations , honoring what matters, cherishing what's in front of us, and basking in the joy of what we already have.  Here's to Gods without boundaries. Here's to a new year.  I wish you all the best.