Dropping the kids off at the pool.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I've learned pretty quickly that the office ladies in high schools suck. They're all basically rude, power stricken, chubby women. Everytime I enter a school I have to check in at the office to sign in and get my nice little visitor badge. God forbid I ever forget to do this. Now call me crazy, but I would think the chef coat and red cooler I am pulling might be an indication that I'm not exactly a "threat" walking around a high school even without a stickey badge with the word "VISITOR" across the front. I mean seriously I'm either pulling a kidney in the cooler or food, wtf do they think it's some sort of weird bomb?
On another note, I'm watching "I didn't know I was pregnant" on TLC and this specific case involves a girl who thought she was severly constipated but it turns out she was pregnant. She sat down to, how shall I say, "relieve her servere constipation," and after grunting and pushing she finally felt a "pop" as she described it.
"I felt better so I stood up and was going to go to bed." Her exact words.
She stood up and then noticed she was connected to whatever in the hell had just come out of her and was now in the toilet. This makes me wonder what in the hell this girl's normal bowel movements are like that she could actually confuse giving birth with going number two. I mean seriously now, talk about IBS. This girl puts a whole new meaning in the phrase "dropping the kids off at the pool."
Finally, she goes to the hospital and the doctor said that "they are just worried about the health of the baby regarding the fact it was born in a toilet." Ya, what about the health issues surrounding the fact that the child's mother was so fat and stupid she didn't even notice she was growing another human inside of her. God only knows the kind of shit this girl drank/ate/snorted/ate/smoked/ate during the past nine months. But I should stop being so judgemental. This situtation really could have happened to anyone. On meth.

Just like a pregnancy.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Well shoot it's been a whole week since my last visit. I gotta tell ya, I've been super busy. I have my first evaluation call with my boss tomorrow, not really sure how that is going to go to be honest. I hope I get a raise though, that's for sure. I mean I've had this job for four months already!!! That is the longest I have had a job since high school. And in high school I just worked during the early fall/summer months being a beer cart girl. So beside getting ready for this big call (promotion I mean) tomorrow I'm also trying to finish up a project I started about four years ago known as college. And let me tell you, one of my professors really isn't making it very easy. She's actually being quite the snatch and frequently emails me saying she is worried about my "status in the class." Which is weird because I have turned in every single assignment at least a day prior to the deadline. But I know I just have to keep at, dropping out is no longer an option for me. Not that it ever was...
But seriously though, I saw on the news the other night that school bus drivers are going to go on strike if they don't start making more money once they have worked for 15 years and reach their maximum wage limit. So many elements to this story make me sad. The thought of knowing that you are going to be a bus driver for at least 15 years is probably the worst element. And then to complain about the $14.00/hr wage. Dear God.
I've been in about four fire drills now. They're actually getting to be kinda fun for me, I almost get as excited as the students to get to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The other day it was an "accidental fire drill." This got everyone a buzz. Who did it? Who did it? We were all talking about it. But apparantly a younger student pulled it by complete accident, at least this is what Cheryl, one of the elderly office ladie's told me.
"Well, yes, that is what I heard in the office, that it wasn't a planned drill." Cheryl confided in me as we walking back into the building.
"Oh really? How do you accidentally pull the alarm?" I jokingly reponded.
"Exactly. It's just like a pregnancy."
Once again, a story I wish I made up.


Monday, September 21, 2009

I knew this week was going to be rough. Remember how I said I get told that I look like people a lot? Well today I heard one that I havn't heard before, and hope to God that I never hear again. In the middle of my presentation a girl in the front row just suddenly blurts out,
"You know who you look like?"
Megan Fox is naturally who I assumed she was going to say.
"You look like Drew Barreymore."
Well I didn't expect that one. What is one supposed to respond to such a comment?
"Oh really? That's funny." Is basically the only thing that I could come up with. I think it's because my fat has gotten fat. Note to self: Get eating disorder ASAP.
In the next class there are these two jack ass boys in the back not paying any attention to me, but are instead talking pretty loudly to each other. Half way through my speel about picking a college that is right for you, and how you can get paid to do what you love, I just can't take it anymore.
"Hey you two, why aren't you paying attention? Do you already have a college chosen for next year?"
"Ya, I'm going to KU." boy number one says.
"Oh well that's good, better than Mizzou," I reply, in a very nice and comical tone I must add.
"Ya right, Mizzou is my school." boy number two says in that high school smart ass tone.
"Ohhh we can't be friends then, I'm from Nebraska." Mind you I am basically being nice at this point, I really am.
"You are? I loved watching you guys lose this weekend, it was great." At which point I end the convo before I start to say something I regret and possibly never get invited back to speak at the high school again due to the fact I started a fight with a 17year old boy regarding college football. I just genuinely dislike Missouri fans. I think they're classless and trashy. There I said it. I feel better now, even if I look like Drew Barreymore.

Homecoming Fun

Sunday, September 20, 2009

In reflecting back on last week's highschool/work days I don't think I can possibly top it this week. In just a matter of a few days I was photographed for a year book, asked to Homecoming, participated in a fire drill and then witnessed a romantic young man ask his crush to Homecoming with a cookie cake that said "Will you be my girl?" Needless to say it was a helluva week. You know the more I think about it I'm pretty sure that was the first time I was ever asked to Homecoming, ya, it was. Man I'm so more cooler in high school second time around. I mean I went to prom with guys but for some reason Homecoming was always the dance I went to with girls. Maybe Im just extra fugly in the fall or something, who knows.
But back to the cookie cake story. I figured out that the teacher was in on the entire charade because she asked Monique to go to the back of the room to "make sure the ovens were off." But little did Monique know that she was going to find a wonderfully romantic gesture back in kitchen five! Oh it was so cute because she saw the cake and then Jerome walked in from the teacher's office in the back with a rose! Of course Monique squealed and everyone turned to stare. All the girls in the class were incredibly jealous. And for some reason I was incredibly embarassed to have witnessed the whole thing and I'm not sure why. I guess I just pictured that whole thing happening to me in high school, which would have literally been a nightmare for me, I just hate public displays like that. But as I mentioned earlier I really didn't have to worry about such a thing occuring...
Last night I finally experienced the Power and Light district for the first time. Not quite sure what to say about that whole thing. It kinda reminded me of Disney World on ectasy. I have also figured it out that there is a law that every single bride- to- be within a fifty mile radius of the P&L district is required to have their bachelorette there, they're also required to be decked out in penis attire, as well. I'm pretty sure that the people who have the most fun at the bars in this district are the 19 year olds who managed to slip in and the fifty year old men who stare at them. I almost didn't get in because I didn't meet the dress code, appantly some sort of Ed Hardy gear is a requirent at Power and Light. Luckily I was carrying a jeweled tiger Ed Hardy belt in my purse so I quickly put that on and was allowed in.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

I'm in a high school today, doing my standard jicama salsa demonstration,just chit chatting with the teenys, and I grab my lime from my cooler to add the mix. A kid in the front row sees my lime and randomly says the kid next to him,
"when life hands you lemons, make lemonade."
Ok, like that had anything to do with anything. Typical though, high school kids just blurt weird shit like that all the time. So I respond with,
"Ya, and when life hands you limes, make jicama salsa."
Now everyone thought this was hilarious, we all just start laughing pretty hard. But then I realised everyone was just actually me. Everyone else is just staring at me. Smart ass kid in the front row starts to laugh and says,
"I'm laughing, but only cuz I feel bad for you."
Ouch. That was just joke number one. Next, I start passing out the salsa to kids to sample. I ask one of the Plastics in the front row if she's gonna have a sample and she says to me with a look of disgust on her face,
"I. Dont. Eat. Vegetables."
I respond with,
"Well I've heard of people who don't eat meat. What are you like against the harsh treatment of greens?"
To which I bust up laughing again. And same as before, no one else does. Whatev I thought my jokes were funny.
I also experienced my first fire drill in quite a while, it was my first time doing it in a chefts coat though, so that was fun. Everyone I passed in the hall would either just stare at me or ask "so what'cha cooking today chef, you wanna give me some?" Ya, that one never gets old, but every male teacher who says it so me seems to think they were the first.

The coyote vs Daisy

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I heard some really sad news yesterday,Daisy, Jessica Simpson's dog got taken by a coyote right in front of her eyes! How terrible is that?! So I heard Jess has been posting on her twitter that she's offering a big reward to anyone who can help Daisy's safe return...Hmmm so I wonder if Jessica knows that coyotes don't use twitter, not to my knowlege anyway. But seriously, what does she think that the coyote took Daisy just to tie her to a pack of dynamite on a railroad track as a ransom or something? Get real Jess this isn't an episode of looney tunes.
So being new to Oveland Park I'm not exactly familiar with radio stations. I landed on one that came in pretty clear so that's all I've listened to since I've been here. I guess I should have known by the stations morning show title "Moanings with Shareem," that it is, how shall I say this, more of a hip hop station I'll say. Well anyway, this station has just opened my eyes to a whole new world of problems that I had no idea existed. For example, today on the way home they had a call in topic that was called,
"When men have babies with two different mamas in the same month,"
According to Shareem and Devon, this issue is really quite common! And to think I had no idea! Woman after woman called in to share their own stories of their man having a baby with another baby mama. One woman said she had no idea her man was cheating until her insurance agency called to ask about the hospital fees for her husbands newest child! Ya, crazy stuff, but like I said, it happens, Devon said so!
On another note, it always amazes me how almost every day a student in a high school asks me,
"So what do you do? What is your job?"
I want to know why in the hell they think I am in their high school then in the first place? Do they think I just travel from high school to high school with my cooler on wheels for the fun of it? That this is like my public service announcement for 18 year olds, my plea for them to all go to college?? High School kids would think that, they're so arrogant. Thank God I was never like that in high school...

Swine Flu

Monday, September 14, 2009

It's my fourth class of the day and I'm making small chat with the teacher, as usual.
"So, I noticed the class sizes are pretty small here compared to other schools I've been to, that's really nice." I casually mention.
"Oh, no it's not usually like this, a bunch of students are gone with the swine."
"Like a bunch as in...?"
"Just like 80."
And I slowly start to look in my bag for my hand sanitizer at this point, I start to notice all of the germ infested teenagers that are surrounding me. Everyone of them seems to be sneezing and coughing all over the room, just sending the swine germs in to the air. I am sure I am already doomed. In fact, I already feel some of the symptoms coming on right now. My throat kills, my nose is runny and my tail is starting to spiral. Shit could get bad real fast. But not to worry, tonight in the Overland Park newspaper there was an ad that said,
"Swine Flu For the Fashionista"
This caught my attention for sure! Cheetah print masks? Polka dot masks? Flower masks hell yes! Where can I buy them? Now I can protect myself from the flu while still looking stylish. Oh, Overland Park, you think of all the important things in life. God forbid a woman have to go out in public wearing something that does not have print on it.
Write more another time, the swine is making me sleepy.

2 kewl 4 skewl.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

So this is how my day begins:
I walk into a high school that has an enrollment of about 3,000 students. Im dressed in black pants and overly huge chef coat. I somehow manage to finagle my way through the entrance pulling one suit case, wheeling the biggest cooler on wheels known to man it's basically the size of a small bath tub, I'm also carrying my cutting board, a computer bag, and one sack of chips. Then the morning bell rings and I find myself trapped in a hallway with hundreds of moody ass teenagers that obviously were not ready to get up this morning. This would be a time to use the phrase FML, but I don't use that phrase so instead I prefer to think, please God shoot me now. Point a shotgun at me from the clouds and take me out of this. Ya, that's dramatic, but I'm in a high school dressed like a damned idiot so I guess I'm gona be a little dramatic. I go into airport mode and begin shoving my way past the little assholes rolling over their ankles with my suitcase and cooler. They don't even see me coming, it was actually quite humorous. I find my way to the FACS classroom and meet the teacher, who was really a nice lady. We chit chat for a second while the students stagger in and then I begin presentation 1 of 6. Six, that's a helluva a lot of presentations. A lot of the same jokes over and over, a lot of the same questions I ask that don't get responses because high school kids don't respond to jack shit. I think I could catch my damn knives in my mouth, while standing in the middle of a ring of fire, naked. And they would still just stare right through me with that empty look in their eye. I wonder if they're on drugs? I'm not about to make accusations or anything, but I really think I was more animated when I was in high school. Maybe not though. What really chaps me are the kids who just think they are too cool for school. Which is ironic because when I was a senior in high school I'm pretty sure I actually made a shirt that said "2 kewl 4 skewl." But that is besides the point. Anyway the "cool kids," think they don't need to listen to the guest speaker (me) No, they think they can just sit and talk to their little followers the whole period. Well not on my count. Some little jack asses were giggling during my intro so I just blurted,
"Hey gigggles. What are you boys laughing about?"
They got so embarrased it was great. They were probably making fun of me saying my intro lines like,
"Find a job you love! It's possible, that is why I am here today, to talk about creative careers! Who likes art in here? Blah Blah blah."
Long story short they shut up. And I was able to continue with a smooth presentation. Oh the life of a public speaker.

So where did you get your culinary degree?

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

So I went to this hard core culinary high school today. There was about three different kitchens that were just huge with all sorts of equipment that had names I had never heard of before. They even had their own student run restaurant, it was pretty ridic. The class I was presenting in was taught by Chef Hank. He trained with Emeril he made sure to tell me.
"So where did you get your culinary degree?" He snootily asked.
"Me? Oh well I got it working in my family's mexican restaurant back in Norfolk called Ricardos. Man talk about good eating. We got this real tastey gravey sauce made out of butter and flour that we dip the burritas in."
He didn't appreciate any of the such humor I was attempting.
"So you don't have a degree? You're not a chef?"
"No, I'm not a chef, I'm a public speaker."
I thought this was a pretty damn clever comeback, he didn't so much.
He continued to snark all through out my presentation, I was so damn nervous I was sure I was going to cut my finger off when demonstrating the planks and dice cut on the Jicama. It was pretty terrible. And speaking of terrible I just realized Im tired as hell. So this is it for now.

Leroy and Cheryl.

Monday, September 7, 2009

On the way home to Kansas today I saw something that I have never witnessed in person before. I saw someone actually stop and pick up a hitch hiker, it was awesome. I even slowed way down and rolled my window down, I guess I was hoping to hear the conversation that was about to go underway. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear across the interstate, but I imagine it went something like this,
"Where ya headed?" asks the kind obese woman in her Mu Mu who just pulled over to the side of the road in her marroon Ford Taurus.
"Well, I was kinda hoping to go West, maybe California." replies older man in an acid wash jean jacket with a beard and a trash bag over his back, (the trash bag is over his back not his beard, he probably wouldn't have gotten picked up if that was the case)
"You're in luck, I'm headed west, not as far as California but I could get you to Nevada. I'm playing in a poker tournament there. I could use some company."
"Thats mighty kind of you. I would really appreciate it."
"The name is Cheryl."
"Well, I'm Leroy."
"Hop on in Leroy, we're in for a long ride."
And the rest, as they say is history. Cheryl and Leroy either a. fall in love. Or b. one of them kills the other. Either way, it's a classic love story.

Last night while in Norfolk at the Kansas and Foreigner concert while surrounded by middle aged woman decked out in their fanciest Black Hills gold jewelry and men in their best looking Husker gear and faded jeans I had an epiphany. Somewhere in between "Double Vision," and "Cold as Ice," I became enthralled with the idea of finding something to do with my life that I love as much as musicians love playing music. The lighters were in the air, men in cowboy boots held their women on their shoulders while their bellys spilled through their mid driffs and I was mezmorised by the people on stage looking as if they were loving this performance as if it was their first. I mean I always get this feeling when I go to concerts, don't get me wrong, I know it also has something to do with cocktails I consume before hand and during and what not, but a lot of it has to do with watching the people on stage doing something they love and they get paid to do it. I want that damn it, it's not fair. I'm tired of stupid ass people like celebs and reality show creatures doing nothing and getting paid for it. But I supppose they're not exactly "stupid" if they've figured out a way to do something that doesn't totally suck and still make a living. For example, Lauren Conrad has a new book out, "LA Candy," that sounds like a real page turner. I can't figure out how she's written a book that sells, then again she does have that fancy fashion degree doesn't she? I can't believe people actually buy that shit, but they do, you know who you are. Alright now I'm getting all riled and going on a tangent, I need to stop this is just my jealousy speaking. I turned my motivational blog about doing what you love into a negative filled celeb rant. I apoligize. Long story short: I'm gona figure out a way to do something sweet and get paid to do it. I'm going to start my book tomorrow (I'm too tired right now) called "Figuring out Post College in only 365 Days," Ok, it's a working title I'll come up with something better later. Basically, I'm going to write every day about my current job, my dream job, and you know other weird stuff I see along the way as usual, and hopefully in one year will have figured out what to do with my life (career wise.) Hopefully. That's it for now, I have to get a good night sleep if I'm going to start my new life as a novelist tomorrow.
PS- I fianlly have a follower...Thanks Mal ;) I'll give you a shout out when Chelsea Handler has me on her show for the first time.

"Hit me square in the face if you want to party."

Sunday, September 6, 2009

As tempted as I was, I didn't hit Mr. Druggy square in the face as he had asked me to do. But first let me explain the situation. So I am sitting at the Rail watching the game with Chris in a booth, it's about 7:00 p.m. and every single person in that bar was far too drunk for their own good. Except for me. The moment I reached what I thought might have been drunk I got a terrible headache and that feeling where you might puke at any second, it was awful. But anyway, I'm sitting in the booth sandwiched between Chris and Richard, if anyone goes to the Rail you know Richard. You also know that when Dick gets too drunk, he gets touchy and turns into Chester the Molester,but that is really beside the point right now. So all of the sudden this man from behind me taps me on my shoulder,
"Hit me square in the face if you want to party."
I'm shocked. There are just so many comebacks I could say to such a thing, so many that I just sit there unable to say one at all. Chris jumps in and politely says,
"No, my girlfriend is not going to hit you."
This situation was either going to get really bad, or really badder I assumed. But instead the man just says,
"Sorry dude. I just meant do you guys want some blow, some coke, you wanna go snort the white lady?"
Once again, I'm just in utter disbelief. Is he for real? Is there a camera somewhere filming this whole crazy scene?
"No, man,we're good."
Chris is so polite.
"Alright, my bad. Sorry, sorry, sorry. This is why you shouldn't do coke. I'm sorry, this is bad, I'm sorry." And then he rips of his shirt and starts pounding his fists on the wall.
I continue to stare. I just thought coke made you skinny, I had no idea of the other side affects such as the ones that had just been displayed in front of me. I assumed he was going to get kicked out, I had seen others get kicked out for doing much less stupid shit. But instead, no one really said much to him. Apparently, Mr. Druggy is kinda of a well known Omaha bar owner, I won't mention the bar he owns, but I have been there and I am sure you have, as well. That's all I'm saying about that.
So yesterday being my first husker game technically out of college I reminisced about the first husker game days through out my college years. Freshman year I was so drunk I cried when the defense came out of the tunnel because it reminded me of playing defense for the Lady Panther basketball team..Lets see sophomore year I had a little too much fun before the game and never made it, I think it might have even been a 1 o'clock start which makes the story even more pathetic. Junior year I believe I stumbled in alone and made my way onto the field to walk around the sidelines with my new friend for the day the hog dog man, shooting hot dogs into the stands. And senior year Kim and I rode a mechanical bull, and once again, I entered the stadium all by lonesome. Oh memories, especially memories you can't really remember.

Culinary Lady.

Friday, September 4, 2009

So yesterday I was in Target and saw this little teeny bop Target girl staring at me kinda weird, I figured it was because I just happened to be in cackyish colored shorts and a red polo and she must have thought I was a fellow worker until she came up to me and said,
"Hey, you're the culinary lady. You came to my class last week."
"Ha, oh ya, ya I did." I akwardly replied.
I felt like a student when you see your teacher in public, all though it was technically the other way around. Especially since she called me lady. I'm not a lady. But I guess I'm not a girl, not yet a woman, either. Thanks B Spears. But anywho, it was weird. And to make it worse she even said,
"Ya, you even talked about Target in your presentation, too."
Which is true, I do talk about Target. But only when I am talking about our Fashion Merchandising Program because I talk about the lay out of Target. I don't know why I got as awkward as I did though. I think it might have had something to do with the fact that right when she saw me I was kinda mid way through throwing a "fit" with my mom because I really wanted to leave but she insisted on looking for an extension chord blah blab blah the girl walked up right when I was,
"But mom c'mon I wanna go, please mom, I wanna go," so I basically went from 10 year old to "lady" in a matter of seconds.
Here's the next uncomfortable moment of my day: sales girl at Dillards. Okay, so I'm just gonna put it out there; I have no friends here. Well, besides Sara but we're on kinda opposite schedules. So I'm buying all this sales shit at Dillards that I don't need and when I start ringing up my clothes I noticed that the sales girl is really cute, with a stylish little outfit and big Mary Kate and Ashley Trollson rings on so ya, I kinda had a friend crush on her. I know that sounds lezbo, but I just mean I wanted to be her friend. That sounds worse, I think I'll go with the lezbo feeling instead. But to continue with the story, she just seemed really cool and fun and I was like thinking how in another life we coulda been friends, me and Dillards girl. So we're just making small chat about the clothes and then she starts getting personal, and I start to think she wants to be my friend! But I got so tongue tied and nervous I totally blew my shot at a my first post college friend.
"So, where are you from?" She casually asks..
"Oh, uhhh, University. I'm from UNL."
She looks at me oddly.
"I mean, Im not from a University, it's not like I was born there." I start talking faster now, I wish I was making this shit up too, but I swear its sadly true.
"I mean I just graduated (lie) from UNL in Lincoln, which is in Nebraska and now I moved here."
At this point I'm beat red and so ashamed of my lack of social skills I grabbed my shit and got the hell out.
Which brings me to today. I had to go back to Target to pick something up for my mom and who do I see? Teeny bop girl.
"Wow, you do love Target don't do?"
"Ya, I guess, I do."
We make weird small talk and then I think, hey, maybe I finally have my first new friend. A 16 year old Target worker.