Thursday, May 27, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Do You Know What Time It Is?
For starters, Mom, you can post comments on this thing anytime you like because:
a) It's not like anybody's really reading this thing (no offense to people who actually read this thing, you know what I mean and,
b) That's what moms do.
Funny thing is, this little shout out will probably embarrass her way more than her posting a comment on this blog would embarrass me.
The past few days have been super busy. I've been canceling a gym membership, filling out change of address forms (Once you fill that thing out online, THEN they tell you they're going to charge you a dollar for changing your address. They ought to pay you a dollar for sitting through all that garbage), filling up boxes with clothes and coffee mugs (apparently the bulk of my material possessions are clothes and coffee mugs), throwing out a laundry hamper covered with dog urine (it's a long story), applying for jobs, and making plans for this weekend's upcoming NASCAR Sprint Cup All Star Race. Hopefully this year Greg Biffle takes the million clams. I've been doing more than that; but that's the bulk of it.
Occasionally, I'll look up from my computer screen or at the clock in my car to catch the time. The first thing I think is, Okay, just one more game of Online Scrabble and then it's back to being productive. The second thing I think about is always Cedars related. For example, if it's 1:30 and I was at the Cedars I would be thinking how slow time is going and I wish it was time for lunch break and if one more member walks through the doors to the bar I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. And then of course here comes some smiling octogenarian shuffling in and I sigh and put on a smile and try to deliver the day's lunch specials with the same enthusiasm I had at 11:30.
This is a phenomenon that will probably happen for a a long, long time. It would happen to me on my day off. It used to happen to me when I was at work in Colorado. It used to happen to me when I was a part-timer and trying to stay awake it Swahili (that's an even longer story). And I'm sure that a short time from now and I'm taking my eyes off of my computer screen in a nicely decorated office (that's called OPTIMISM, children) and I'm working late I'll look at the clock and when it looks at me and tells me it's 7:00 and I knew who was going to come in for dinner and a latte in the bar. The Cedars is always going to be a part of who I am.
On a completely different note, have you seen the lineup for this year's Austin City Limits festival?? The lineup for Friday, Oct. 8th alone is out of control. The last place I saw the Strokes was in Austin outside at Stubbs BBQ. How awesome would it be to see them in Austin again, with Vampire Weekend, Spoon, Broken Bells, Miike Snow, etc. So if any of my loyal readers are thinking of birthday ideas, I'm just saying, food for thought. Anyhoo it's time to fold and pack more clothes but this time I'm going to link a little playlist in honor of ACL Fest. Enjoy.
The Strokes - Hard to Explain
Vampire Weekend - Diplomat's Son
Spoon- Everything Hits at Once
Broken Bells- The High Road
Miike Snow- Black & Blue
No, Miike Snow is not a misspelling. I particularly love the first line of that Spoon song. It's one of those opening lines that every time I hear it, it makes me wish I had written it:
Don't say a word/
The last one's still stinging.
a) It's not like anybody's really reading this thing (no offense to people who actually read this thing, you know what I mean and,
b) That's what moms do.
Funny thing is, this little shout out will probably embarrass her way more than her posting a comment on this blog would embarrass me.
The past few days have been super busy. I've been canceling a gym membership, filling out change of address forms (Once you fill that thing out online, THEN they tell you they're going to charge you a dollar for changing your address. They ought to pay you a dollar for sitting through all that garbage), filling up boxes with clothes and coffee mugs (apparently the bulk of my material possessions are clothes and coffee mugs), throwing out a laundry hamper covered with dog urine (it's a long story), applying for jobs, and making plans for this weekend's upcoming NASCAR Sprint Cup All Star Race. Hopefully this year Greg Biffle takes the million clams. I've been doing more than that; but that's the bulk of it.
Occasionally, I'll look up from my computer screen or at the clock in my car to catch the time. The first thing I think is, Okay, just one more game of Online Scrabble and then it's back to being productive. The second thing I think about is always Cedars related. For example, if it's 1:30 and I was at the Cedars I would be thinking how slow time is going and I wish it was time for lunch break and if one more member walks through the doors to the bar I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. And then of course here comes some smiling octogenarian shuffling in and I sigh and put on a smile and try to deliver the day's lunch specials with the same enthusiasm I had at 11:30.
This is a phenomenon that will probably happen for a a long, long time. It would happen to me on my day off. It used to happen to me when I was at work in Colorado. It used to happen to me when I was a part-timer and trying to stay awake it Swahili (that's an even longer story). And I'm sure that a short time from now and I'm taking my eyes off of my computer screen in a nicely decorated office (that's called OPTIMISM, children) and I'm working late I'll look at the clock and when it looks at me and tells me it's 7:00 and I knew who was going to come in for dinner and a latte in the bar. The Cedars is always going to be a part of who I am.
On a completely different note, have you seen the lineup for this year's Austin City Limits festival?? The lineup for Friday, Oct. 8th alone is out of control. The last place I saw the Strokes was in Austin outside at Stubbs BBQ. How awesome would it be to see them in Austin again, with Vampire Weekend, Spoon, Broken Bells, Miike Snow, etc. So if any of my loyal readers are thinking of birthday ideas, I'm just saying, food for thought. Anyhoo it's time to fold and pack more clothes but this time I'm going to link a little playlist in honor of ACL Fest. Enjoy.
The Strokes - Hard to Explain
Vampire Weekend - Diplomat's Son
Spoon- Everything Hits at Once
Broken Bells- The High Road
Miike Snow- Black & Blue
No, Miike Snow is not a misspelling. I particularly love the first line of that Spoon song. It's one of those opening lines that every time I hear it, it makes me wish I had written it:
Don't say a word/
The last one's still stinging.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Of Times Clocks, etc.
My time card from the Cedars has a picture of me from five years ago. I wasn't wearing glasses (I had been workshopping contacts during that fall -- it didn't work out). I was also apparently having one of the weirdest hair days of my life. My hair's always been thick and somewhat unmanageable, by that I mean I can put product in it and try to manipulate it to do what I want but it seems like every time I look in the mirror a few hours later I'm always sort of surprised to see what my hair looks like. One way to solve this would be to get it cut every four or so weeks like a sane person should. But my hair in this picture is short but it's kind of standing up like a wave like kids used to do when I was in middle school. The rest of my hair in the picture is sort of flat, like in that episode of Seinfeld where the city cuts the water flow down in their showerheads and the characters can't wash out all of the shampoo. You might look at the picture and look at my hair and tell me I'm crazy for thinking it's so weird.
Also, why in the world would I possibly analyze something so crazy as my hair in my picture from a time card?
Because I've been through a lot with that time card. I've had it (or a variation of it) for the better part of five calendar years. I've used it so much that I reach for it many times instead of my debit card in the check out line at Harris Teeter. When I moved in to this house I didn't have a key. The locks are so crappy that all it took was a slide of the ol' time card in between the metal and the wood and viola, my time card was also my house key.
I think maybe I've mentioned the beep the time card makes when a server clocks in. Just a simple, short, mindless beep.
When you clock in in the morning, the beep reminds you you've got a long day ahead of you. When you swipe it at night the beep reminds you that you won't be gone all that long before you swipe the card again.
On Saturday, at around 8:30 PM I swiped my time card for the very last time at the Cedars of Chapel Hill. Since the lease on this house is running out and I've got nothing holding me down here, I found a pretty good set-up in Winston-Salem and I'll be moving there within the next week. The next place I find myself may have an identical time clock (that is, if I have to swipe a card, fingers crossed I won't) as the Cedars has. It may make the exact same noise as the one the Cedars' makes. But I promise that it will sound as different as two identical sounds possibly can.
Also, why in the world would I possibly analyze something so crazy as my hair in my picture from a time card?
Because I've been through a lot with that time card. I've had it (or a variation of it) for the better part of five calendar years. I've used it so much that I reach for it many times instead of my debit card in the check out line at Harris Teeter. When I moved in to this house I didn't have a key. The locks are so crappy that all it took was a slide of the ol' time card in between the metal and the wood and viola, my time card was also my house key.
I think maybe I've mentioned the beep the time card makes when a server clocks in. Just a simple, short, mindless beep.
When you clock in in the morning, the beep reminds you you've got a long day ahead of you. When you swipe it at night the beep reminds you that you won't be gone all that long before you swipe the card again.
On Saturday, at around 8:30 PM I swiped my time card for the very last time at the Cedars of Chapel Hill. Since the lease on this house is running out and I've got nothing holding me down here, I found a pretty good set-up in Winston-Salem and I'll be moving there within the next week. The next place I find myself may have an identical time clock (that is, if I have to swipe a card, fingers crossed I won't) as the Cedars has. It may make the exact same noise as the one the Cedars' makes. But I promise that it will sound as different as two identical sounds possibly can.
Friday, May 14, 2010
What Kind of Worker Am I?
Don Miller is good at what he does. He writes. He gets his readers to think differently about things they think about all the time. In his latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Miller pushes the reader to really think about what it means for a person to become the main character in his or her life story and what God's role is in that. That's about as vanilla and simple as i know how to put that. But it's my day off and I don't want to spend the entire day explaining a book. You need to read it anyway. It's an inspiring thing Miller does. To get the most out of life, you need to be proactive, no matter what you're after.
Between books and speaking engagements and whatever else he does, he runs a blog. It's called Don Miller Is.
The other day he ran a post called: Knowing Your Work Style Can Help You Avoid Burnout.
I don't think I'm a grinder or a finder. I have a little Keeper in me but I'm much more of the last two (finder and theorist).
If you were to ask me what kind of worker I am, I'd tell you I'm a hard worker. A loyal worker. Someone who can think outside the box to find quick, creative solutions.
But what does that really mean? I mean, and good worker is going to be a hard, loyal, one.
Truthfully, I'm going to be a good worker no matter where I work. Always have been a good worker, always will be.
But the bottom line is that if you aren't in a good working environment for the kind of worker you are, you're probably headed for burnoutvilleburg. And right now I feel like the mayor of said town. I think my term may be ending soon. Things are in the works. My character is working on a better story.
Between books and speaking engagements and whatever else he does, he runs a blog. It's called Don Miller Is.
The other day he ran a post called: Knowing Your Work Style Can Help You Avoid Burnout.
I don't think I'm a grinder or a finder. I have a little Keeper in me but I'm much more of the last two (finder and theorist).
If you were to ask me what kind of worker I am, I'd tell you I'm a hard worker. A loyal worker. Someone who can think outside the box to find quick, creative solutions.
But what does that really mean? I mean, and good worker is going to be a hard, loyal, one.
Truthfully, I'm going to be a good worker no matter where I work. Always have been a good worker, always will be.
But the bottom line is that if you aren't in a good working environment for the kind of worker you are, you're probably headed for burnoutvilleburg. And right now I feel like the mayor of said town. I think my term may be ending soon. Things are in the works. My character is working on a better story.
Monday, May 3, 2010
I have a problem with being too indecisive. If you ask me a yes or no question, 40 percent of the time I'm not going to give you a yes or no answer. Even still, the other 60 percent of the time when I actually do answer your yes or no question I'm going to stumble all around trying to find a way out of actually giving a decisive answer. My whole life I've been like this. It's because I desperately want your approval and I'm petrified of rejection.
But this drives people nuts. If you tell me you the last movie you saw and you loved it and then ask me if I liked it, I'm probably going try to find something I did like about it (even if I hated it) and say "it was alright."
This is a quality that gets on peoples nerves. At least when someone says they hated the movie you know how they felt.
Sometimes I get frustrated because members ALWAYS want the same thing. Day in. Day out. One man comes in every day at lunch and wants the exact same thing. A bowl of soup (doesn't matter what the soup is), three packs of saltines to go with that. Fish. A cup of fruit. And sweet tea with no ice. And when he runs out of tea he says, "can I get some more sweet tea, no ice?" He says that every single time like I've got the ice scoop in my hand ready to dump a whole load of it into his precious tea. Also, I don't care if we bring this guy Gorton's fish sticks or grilled Mahi with some amazing chutney. He doesn't care. He just wants fish. Yes it's repetitive. Yes, it gets really old. But this guy knows what he wants and to be honest, I think a small part of me may be jealous of that quality.
Just this morning I stopped at a Starbucks in Winston to grab a cup of coffee on my way back from Wilkesboro to Chapel Hill. I almost had to give up my place in line because I couldn't decide between the Bold and Pike's Place roast. It takes me several seconds to choose a bottle of water when I'm in line at Whole Foods. Both roasts at Starbucks are basically the same. Doesn't really matter what kind label the bottle has the water really tastes the same. I just worry too much about what people might think based on these little decisions. Anyway, this is a roundabout way of me saying, "I'm working on it."
On a completely different note. I'd like to endorse Randy Newman as a songwriter. He obviously doesn't need my recommendation but what I like about the guy, is that it doesn't really matter which song you listen to, I doubt the man has ever been asked "Can you tell me what this song is about?" They are straightforward. He is the quintessential "storytelling songwriter."
Today I had "Living Without You" I put on a mixed CD I burned. The first part of the opening verse is incredible.
The milk truck hauls the sun up/
the paper hits my door/
the subway shakes my floor/
and I think about you.
Unbelievable.
But this drives people nuts. If you tell me you the last movie you saw and you loved it and then ask me if I liked it, I'm probably going try to find something I did like about it (even if I hated it) and say "it was alright."
This is a quality that gets on peoples nerves. At least when someone says they hated the movie you know how they felt.
Sometimes I get frustrated because members ALWAYS want the same thing. Day in. Day out. One man comes in every day at lunch and wants the exact same thing. A bowl of soup (doesn't matter what the soup is), three packs of saltines to go with that. Fish. A cup of fruit. And sweet tea with no ice. And when he runs out of tea he says, "can I get some more sweet tea, no ice?" He says that every single time like I've got the ice scoop in my hand ready to dump a whole load of it into his precious tea. Also, I don't care if we bring this guy Gorton's fish sticks or grilled Mahi with some amazing chutney. He doesn't care. He just wants fish. Yes it's repetitive. Yes, it gets really old. But this guy knows what he wants and to be honest, I think a small part of me may be jealous of that quality.
Just this morning I stopped at a Starbucks in Winston to grab a cup of coffee on my way back from Wilkesboro to Chapel Hill. I almost had to give up my place in line because I couldn't decide between the Bold and Pike's Place roast. It takes me several seconds to choose a bottle of water when I'm in line at Whole Foods. Both roasts at Starbucks are basically the same. Doesn't really matter what kind label the bottle has the water really tastes the same. I just worry too much about what people might think based on these little decisions. Anyway, this is a roundabout way of me saying, "I'm working on it."
On a completely different note. I'd like to endorse Randy Newman as a songwriter. He obviously doesn't need my recommendation but what I like about the guy, is that it doesn't really matter which song you listen to, I doubt the man has ever been asked "Can you tell me what this song is about?" They are straightforward. He is the quintessential "storytelling songwriter."
Today I had "Living Without You" I put on a mixed CD I burned. The first part of the opening verse is incredible.
The milk truck hauls the sun up/
the paper hits my door/
the subway shakes my floor/
and I think about you.
Unbelievable.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
MerleFest
I'm at Merlefest this weekend, in Wilkesboro, my hometown. Elvis Costello & The Sugarcanes tonight. Also, Steve Martin is playing banjo with the Steep Canyon Rangers as his backing band. I haven't been this excited to come home in quite some time. Nothing old-persons-related to speak of. The Kentucky Derby is in jeopardy of being rained out apparently. If I were working today I'd be elbow deep making mint juleps and seeing what sort of crazy hats the members came in wearing. Not that 'm going to miss that at all, but it's just fun to see octogenarians getting tanked sometimes. So here's to Derby Day and Merlefest. I'm going to fend off the hippies.
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