i can't even tell you how many times i've visited my blog since thursday and wanted to smack myself across the face.
i wanted to smack my damn self across the face so bad, i couldn't bring myself to type anything new.
and that was sad, not just because it's not a good feeling to want to smack your damn self in the face, but because until thursday, i almost had a blog entry for every day of the month.
i was damn proud of that.
but then i had to go and talk about my feelings. and also, my fat rolls.
i comforted myself in the knowledge the st. patrick's day was rapidly approaching.
i mean, surely i would bear witness to some completely ridiculous happenings, which i could happily report back to you.
i expected a virtual fount of blog fodder.
what i got was a completely normal weekend populated with completely normal people.
that isn't too say that we weren't busy.
it's just that nothing went wrong.
people weren't even being assholes!
i really do not know what this world is coming to, when you can't even count on bartending on st. patrick's day to offer up a few blogable stories.
i do, however, have some picures of how cute we looked while bartending on st. patrick's day.
you guys are so lucky.
this was taken right as we were opening, at about 9 am, which is long before any of us would EVER like to be awake.
i think we look alright, all things considered.
oh, in case you're not familiar, that's b.g. on the left, then timmer, then my sister b.j., and then me.
and b.g. would probably like me to make sure you all know that she is not 'tubby,' as she calls it, she is pregnant.
and, for a girl who's 7 months pregnant?
i think she looks pretty damn amazing.
i'm loving the shamrock sticker on her bellybutton...
she is totally rocking the belly.
in other belly news, i felt the baby kick for the first time on friday night.
it was so amazing, i almost started crying in the middle of our local outback steakhouse.
*confessions of a fat-ass interlude*
yes, we went to dinner at outback, even though i had just written two huge entries about how much i hate my stupid fat self. but, you know. b.g. is eating for two, and far be it from me to deny a pregnant girl! anyway, the actual eating of the dinner ended up not counting, because i threw up about two minutes after dinner. no, not on purpose! i think i just ate WAY TOO MUCH. in my defense, i hadn't been to outback in, like, two years. so i really wanted to try a little bit of all my favorite things. my favorite things at outback include: sharing aussie cheese fries with the table, bowl of french onion soup topped with stinky but delicious cheese, sharing a salad with my sister, and prime rib with a baked potato. I KNOW. i figured i would just take a few bites of everything, and take the leftovers home to eat after work the next day. and i really did only eat a few bites of everything...i think it was just that 'everything' that i took a few bites of was super rich, or something. and the delicious espresso martini that was covered in a really thick (but delicious) cream? yeah. that probably didn't help. in fact, it was the first thing that came up--which seemed bizarre, since it was the first thing i put in my belly. and aren't you all just so glad that i told you that? you know you love me because i'm disgusting. anyway, it was terrible because it was one of those scary thow-ups, where all of the sudden your mouth starts watering uncontrollably and you quickly come to the sad realization that you are in a public place and the bathroom is a VERY far away. anyway, i did make it to the bathroom, and in an amazing stroke of luck my sister was already in there and she went to get me some water. and, when i got back to the table? i totally ordered dessert to go. i mean, at that point i totally had room for more calories. actually, that dessert is still upstairs in the fridge as we speak. i wonder if it's still there...
*end confessions of a fat-ass interlude*
anyway, we were about to leave, and we'd been talking about b.g.s belly through pretty much the entire dinner.
i decided that i just couldn't go home that night without feeling a kick of some sort, so as we were getting up, i totally accosted my best friend's belly.
i just pressed on it as hard as i could, and sure enough, i pissed the baby off and it tried to kick me away.
i totally wasn't prepared for how amazing it would feel to physically interact with that baby for the first time.
i can't wait until she shows up.
anyway, back to st. patrick's day.
i do have one slightly ass-hattish story to share:
it was getting toward the end of my shift, and i walked up to three guys who had just come up to the bar.
it appeared that two of them were together, while the other guy was by his random self and talking animatedly on his cell phone.
i walked up to the two guys, and began the process of getting them whatever the hell it was that they wanted.
i wish you could have seen the reaction of the guy on the cell phone.
he was simply INFURIATED that i was helping these other guys before i was helping him.
as soon as i directed my attention toward the other two guys, the cell phone guy melted into a pool of twitchy fury. he was gesturing, huffing, throwing his arms about and making faces at me that looked like this:
now, it is possible that cell phone guy was there first.
but, if he was there first, it was only by 20 seconds or so.
20 seconds does not equal a big deal, in my book.
after another 20 seconds, i was nearly done taking care of the other two guys, and the cell phone guy hung up his phone and gestured wildly for my boss, who came over and asked him if there was a problem.
the cell phone guy said yeah, i've been waiting for, like, an hour. can i get a fucking beer or what?
as i turned away to put the other two guys' tip into our tip jar, my boss said don't worry, i just let him in the front door three minutes ago. i know he hasn't been waiting long. he's a dick, but just go see what he wants.
so, i walked up to the cell phone guy and said:
sir, just so you know? i wasn't ignoring you, i was trying to do you a favor by not bothering you when you were obviously in a heated discussion on your cell phone. and my boss said he just let you in the front door 4 minutes ago, so i think it worked out ok. 4 minutes is not too long to wait for a beer on st. patrick's day.
then he rolled his eyes at me and said: whatever. get my fucking beer.
and i said: no, i don't think i will. and walked away.
because, fuck that asshole.
you can see how sad it is, when that's the best story i can come up with after a weekend of working in a sportsbar when march madness and st. patrick's day were in full swing.
here is what i looked like when i got home:
and here is what i looked like 5 minutes after that, as i enjoyed a piece of pizza:
i hope you all had a good weekend and, for the sake of the internet, i hope some interesting shit happens to me in the very near future.