Merry Freaking Christmas

This has been the craziest Christmas vacation so far. I barely made it home due to the snow storms hitting my beloved PNW. All flights after mine were cancelled. Phew!
So of course with the snow I had to go out and play. My friends and I decided to go out for an evening of sledding. Seeing as the regular hills were taken by a bunch of kids we went in search for a better, less traveled, hill. I have now found out why the hill we chose was much less traveled. All was fun until I decided to take a steeper route and was met at the bottom by a bunch of rocks. One particular rock jutted out to a sharp point and somehow I managed to aim just for that one. I was flying down the hill, laughing all the way, until my body came to a sudden stop. The greatest amount of pain shot through my body. All I remember is "weeeee funnnn! what the....holy shi....gah!" then I just rolled over and couldn't breath. It's true what they say; you really can see stars. After staying still a few more moments I managed to get up and get back to the top of the hill. I called it quits on the sledding and headed home. Chrissy laughed at me the whole walk home. Apparently I was walking with my hips way out in front of me and my feet shuffling like a duck behind me. I told her my body was trying to get away from the pain.
I made it home, threw my wet clothes in the tub, climbed up the stairs like it was Mt. Everest, and passed out on my bed. I awoke to the craziest pain the next morning. I managed to get down stairs and into the bathroom to wash my face. But as I stood by the sink my vision went blurry and black and white. Noises sounded as if I were under water. I broke into a cold sweat, and gripped the sink for dear life and thought: "I am going to die!" When I finally was able to stay steady I looked for the Excedrin my mom had handed me moments earlier. Not on the sink anymore, now on the floor. I briefly thought about picking them up...then thought "that floor is really far away". I shuffled to the living room couch and tried to lay down. Not an easy task! By this point I knew I had to have actually done something serious. I had my mom call the urgent care center to see if I could go in for x-rays and perhaps get some intense pain killers.
Getting to the urgent care center was pretty ridiculous. With the help of my mom I got off the couch, changed out of my pajamas, and got to the car. I slid onto the back seat on my stomach with my feet in the air and clung to the seat as we traveled across the bumpy slippery snow covered streets. The snow began melting off my shoes and sliding down my leg....freaking cold!
As I hobbled into the urgent care center I ran into one of my friends. We wished each other a merry Christmas and she limped off on crutches and I shuffled in trying not to pass out. Ah small towns. I even run into people I know at the urgent care center.
Here's a question. Why do they have mirrors in the little stall where you put your cute little gown on for the x-rays? Did I need to be reminded how awful I looked? My hair, freshly "styled" from getting out bed, my face pale and washed out with circles under my eyes, and a nice full view of the breezy back end of my gown.
For the x-rays I had to lay on my back. Not fun! But while I lay on my side for the side pictures I noticed the electrical sockets on the wall. I never noticed that they look like the Pillsbury Dough boy in shock. Next time you look at a socket tell me if you don't see how much it looks like a face in shock.Anyways, I headed home after hearing I had chipped my tail bone and was given vicoden.
Yesterday was spent on the couch watching t.v and movies. Making as few moves as possible. It was a sorry sight. I had to ask for help getting the t.v remote because it was just beyond my reach and any extra movement shot pain through my body. At one point I had to ask my mom if Richie could come over and since yelling even hurt I called her cell phone on my cell phone just so I could talk to her from the other room. Each time I had to get up or off the couch I told myself "It's like a band aid" and would put all my force into quickly getting up, let the pain sere through me, breathe a moment, then move.
This snow has made it near impossible for my friends to meet up. Either they are stranded in airports across the country, snowed in at their house, or injured due to the ice.
Dear God, please help me to get better so I don't have to use one of those stupid donut pillows while I fly home.....
Like, so totally not cute!

Being the Beginner

I was reading some Rilke this evening and was struck by a paragraph he wrote in one of his letters. It's as follows:

You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you, as much as I can, be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, with out noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
Resolve to always be beginning - to be a beginner!


How often I try to get to the end. To be or find the finished product. To hurry friendships, relationships, education, learning new skills and crafts. "Live in the questions". What a beautiful thought. And to take claim of being a beginner you can spare yourself the self-deprecation of not being good enough. Perhaps it will free you to take more risks. And what is wrong with making a mistake? Something good can be found in it for sure.
Perhaps I'm only typing this for myself. I find I haven't taken enough risks lately. How safe I feel in this new world.
I could be missing out on the next great adventure! Or at least a funny tale to tell a friend later on.

Weird Moments in Society

So I stopped at Starbucks on my way home today and as I was asking for my drink another lady came up in line....but right behind me. I don't mean the normal stranger distance known by most people, I mean closer than I let most of my friends get near me. I thought maybe I was supposed to know her or something so I turned and looked at her. Nothing. She didn't even get my subliminal message of "Hey! You are too freaking close to me!". So I ordered my drink and moved to the side. I was busy reading something on the wall and as I backed up I stepped on someone's foot. I turned around to apologize (despite the big bite of donut in my mouth) and it was The Hover-er again! What the heck. Once again she did not get the message of "your in my bubble!" so we stood there, awkwardly close, while we waited for our coffee. Finally getting my coffee I headed out the door, stopping to get a straw and as half of my coffee spilled out the top due to over filling the cup, the lady was right next to me. "You should take the lid off and put the straw in that way."
"Thanks" I said. Usually I'm more talkative to strangers...but this was a strange stranger.

The other day I was in Borders and as I was walking towards the literature aisle (ya, that's right, I like to read big books) some guy stopped me and asked "Do you like Sushi?" "Uh...no" I said. "Damnit! Does anyone like sushi?! I need a sushi date!"
I quickly walked away, word to the wise, if you want to pick up a girl in the book shop, don't ask while your standing in the erotica section. Just plain awkward.

While at work I chose to wear my contacts for a first time in a few months. An older man came up to my window and said "Damn you are one sexy teller! You were hiding behind those glasses all this time. It's a good thing I'm too old for you and there's this big counter between us." I quickly took care of his transaction and called the next in line. Suffice it to say, I wore my glasses the next day.

How to avoid drama....

Living in community has it's ups and downs. Ups being cheap rent, someone a shout away to hang out with (usually), food in the fridge, and some simple surprising pleasures here and there. However, this is not to express my love and joy from community, but point out a funny quirk I have experienced in all of my community living situations.
I am reminded of a common belief that men and women can not be friends with out at least a hint of a crush involved. I have a hard time with this. Perhaps it's just me and my nature to be drawn to friendships with guys. Sometimes I really prefer their conversations and stories. My own band of brothers I like to think of them. No crush has to be involved for me to want to spend time with them.
Living in a house of girls and having a house of guys directly across the street has had me laughing at the tagging of "yours, mine, and free game." Even if they don't mean to. If one girl or guy has dated one of the other "community members" then drama is to ensue if another "pairing" even has the appearance of beginning. This constant surveillance of each other's relationships and friendships has made me paranoid. I worry that if I hang out with a guy too long then the "wrong impression" can be made either by him or the others. Why is it so difficult to believe that there can be just plain friendships? And if a crush were to happen, at least on my side, I want that to be my own business so I can let it blow over and not ruin the beginnings of a friendship. If a relationship happens, fine, but I want it to surprise me or just happen naturally, I don't want to "look" for it or "make it happen".
So, I've stuck to going on dates with people I've met outside of the houses or just having a date with myself.
A good glass of wine, a classic movie, some pasta, and I'm content.
There's no gossip when you just date yourself....

Taking a Stand

I did my first stand up last week. What a rush! It went well. I didn't get things thrown at me or "boo-ed" off. In fact, the only people in the audience were fellow open mic-ers. This historic event took place in a hole in the wall venue in the back of the comedy club where I take my classes. There were a few horrific acts that gave me so much confidence I had to really watch my pride. My 5 minute routine consisted of a few bank characters. It was rather jumbled and messy, but I got the "point" across. Now I know what to aim for and will work on getting a few solid 5 minute routines down.

But here's the funny thing. Almost all of our life is about going to the extreme to avoid people laughing at us. If we trip, we try running, if we wave to the wrong person we scratch our head, if we fart we cough in hope to cover it up.
But on that stage laughter is your only life line. Silence no longer our friend.
"What's the worst that could happen to you? They laugh? That's the point right?"
I saw a few acts that the laughter was out of pure pitty and awkward pain. I don't want that kind of laughter.

Over all I was encouraged. They laughed at some of my re-enactments and wasn't believed when I said this was my first time.
Now I have something to mold, something to work with, to edit, fix up, and make totally kick ass.....so you can laugh that ass off.

Dearly beloved.....

Dearly beloved,
We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a good friend. A woman of independence and individuality. Someone who was always so quick to listen, to be there for her friend, and who could plan or attend a party at a moment’s notice.
It was not a sudden loss, we saw it coming. Her big smile that usually was turned towards us started to face another, permission needed to be asked when invited for an adventure....or even coffee. Suddenly we felt more like a tricycle than a bicycle. The third wheel. The beginning of the end.
She was a good woman, but today we must not weep for her crossing to the other side - to the world of couples and togetherness. Until we cross over ourselves or she get’s flung back to us - we will miss her.
Good luck over there.

For the Love of Tact!

Yesterday I had a real winner at my window.

A lady, trying to exude the air of importance, came up to my window with a few checks and a blank deposit form in hand. I took the form and began writing.
"Wow! You have really bad hand writing".......I just sat there, looking at her deposit form that I was filling out for her.
"Excuse me?" Staring at her thinking maybe it would sink in that she just said a really rude thing.
"I'm not insulting you, just making commentary. It just seems like an odd thing, for a bank teller to have bad handwriting. I've never seen that!"
"Gee, I don't know what to say. Thanks?" And I really didn't. I tried wracking my brain for some witty comment to fly under the radar till it dawned on her after she walked out of the bank - but alas, I thought of nothing.
I let the tension sit there at the window as I silently filled out the rest of her deposit form and cashed her check. Handing her the money and saying have a good one.
A good boot to the face!
I don't know about you, but I was taught that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

Socially retarded. That better be her only excuse.

Dating L.A

Sometimes I feel like living in Southern California is like dating that popular guy in high school. You see him leading the teams to finals, wind in his blond hair, shiny white teeth smiling wide, and oh so adorable.
And by some odd chance he asks you out. You, the head of the photo club and improv troup. Him captain of the football, basketball, and soccer team... and voted best hair.
It's fun for awhile. The hype, the gossip, the semi popularity. But in your heart of hearts you know this isn't forever. He's a fun-for-now fling while that perfect fit waits somewhere out in the big world. Tall buildings, brooding skies, and wickedly smart sense of humor. A multi-cultured city. The tall dark and handsome guy who sips his earl grey while doing the New York Times crossword in pen.
But for now I take to the surf, wind in my own hair, and enjoy the ride....till hitting the sandy shore of a new land.

A Visit To the Doctors....

Entering the little steril room - I'm instantly hooked up to little electric machines by a nurse void of character. A clamp on my finger, a rod under my tongue, and velcro around my arm. I notice how the room's scent is even void of character. Truly! I tried taking deep breaths in and could pick out nothing. I didn't know that was possible. My alienation is hightened to a new level.
The personality lacking nurse asks me questions about my "health and lifestyle". Suddenly I'm a school kid wanting to give the right answer.
"Do you smoke?"
No! I mean, well, I'm around people that smoke... sometimes....sometimes I have one when I'm having a beer....actually I smoke cloves once in awhile....or a cigar.....but it's not a habbit or anything!
The anwser floating somewhere between the truth and what I wish to be true
I can't tell by the numbers she reads off the little machines hooked up to me if I'm healthy or almost dead. For all I know she could be giving me the winning lottery numbers or thinks she's in the Bingo hall. Your 73 over 100 and your level is at B-9. Bingo!
Is that good? Am I dying? Or just average? I want to be better than average. Is there such a thing as super healthy? The nurse leaves me in the little room of weirdness.
Out in the hall I hear the nurses and doctors talk. Personality seems to have re-emerged as they walk out of these steril sucktions of a room.
"What idiot schedualed a 4 o'clock!?! I'm schedualed to leave at 4:15"
I'm hoping that is not my doctor. I look at my watch....it's 4 o'clock.
I wait for awhile. Then I hear scratching at my door. Right about where that clip board of all my bingo and lottery numbers are. Then silence. I have to wait longer. I think they just do it to tease us waiting in that uncomfortable room. Every now and then a nurse walkes by your door, picks up the clip board then puts it back and walks off. You hear that clawing as soon as you start looking around the room and start picking up things and playing with the tongue compressors and checking your myspace on their computer. So you have to rush back to your seat and look like you haven't moved.
I try reading the pamphlets covering the wall, but five minutes of that leads me to believe I have a new problem.
"Do you have asthma?"
I don't know, sometimes I have a hard time breathing after I run up a flight of stairs.
"Do you have irregular shaped moles?"
No, they all look pretty circular to me...except this one is a bit wonky...actually it kind of looks like a turtle....with 5 legs...maybe that's a head....uh.....nurse?!
On top of having the pamphelts of paranoia hell there are pictures of the fugliest things happening to body parts.
By the time the doctor comes in I'm convinced I have a new disease.
It's like when I watch House too much and just an ordinary cough throws me into a panick. "What if this isn't just a cough, but a symptom of some rare infection!"
I always seem to get the doctors from some eastern European country. It's like haveing a stern aunt that just seems to say "What's wrong with you".
Suddenly 13 year awkwardness comes over me and I stammer what I came in for.
"My eye hurts. It's really red and watery and itchy....and I'm sensitive to light....I feel like there is a fire in my eye that's trying to be put out by a flood...."
She shines a light into my eye and then goes to her computer. You can't go to work till Monday. You have pink eye.
Yes! no work! Wait...pink eye? What? No, that's so not cute!
She tells me I should maybe where a patch over my eye for the next few days.
Oh hells no I'm no pirate. "Ok" I say.
I figured since I was there and the doctor was there I'd ask about my face breaking out still. She perscribed some kind of lotion along with my eye drops and was out of the room.
Why do you always feel you spend more time waiting than actually being with the doctor? She didn't seem concerned or care that my eye was on fire. Just that I was an idiot freaking out about pink eye.
So, I have a little vacation now. Poor, pinke-eyed, and pained.
Quarantined to my room.
Yippe freakin do da.

Life's Art

Dig deeper
than the surface desires.
Love deeper
than the hungry facade.
Live richer
than money can buy.
Close the eyes
Open the heart
The artistic life
lies further down than the celebrity mania,
the consumer hunger
shiny merchandise
and carnal lusts.
Purity
Humility
thats the art
within our life.

Screen of Humiliation

Nothing knocks the coolness out of you faster than face planting it right into a screen door.
That just happened. About 5 minutes ago. I was leaving the BBQ and heading home across the street....and as I exited into the kitchen I also walked into the screen door. It made this huge crashing noise and everyone saw. The only thing injured was my pride.

Lately I haven't felt all too graceful. My eyes have been really red from some infection so I have to wear my glasses. My face has been breaking out even more. I feel so awkward and uncute that I don't seem to care much anymore. Good looks are a fickle thing.

I thought it would be the reverse living in such an outward appearance focused society, but seeing so many people put so much money and effort into looking good, it all seems so hopeless and empty. I don't find myself longing for it anymore.

Seeing the 50 year old "Coco"s and "Summers" with their raisening skin and dark eye makeup matching their dark roots makes them all seem the same. Chasing after something they should have long let go of. I've seen so many Gucci, Prada, and Luis Vitton bags that they seem cheap to me. Labels have lost their luster on me (not that they had much of a grasp).

Now that I seem to be struggling to make ends meet and be financially wise I see so much waste out there.

Is it weird to say that I am darkly enjoying my struggle to pay my bills and watch every penny I spend? I feel I'm having an opportunity so many of my local customers will never experience. I watch them drive away in their BMWs and Mercedes...to what?

There are days I find bitterness and jealousy in my heart. Yet I try to keep my chin up and say "You will make it".

These days will not be forever. In the mean time I must soak up all this learning experience and live....to the fullest. And there lies the riches.

So....maybe a run in with a few screen doors is what we all need. Wake us up and laugh at ourselves...and move on.

A wealth of distractions

Can you believe they've added platinum t.vs to our bank?! Really, like we needed one more thing to keep our mind numb.
I'm quite sad by this addition to the branch. The first two days MSNBC was being played. Like you really need to hear doom and gloom while your standing in line. Now we've moved on to the Home and Gardens channel.
I'm assuming this is to help aid our "customer wait time" and "customer delight". Helping you forget your waiting in line.
So, now I have to talk over the t.v that is placed directly above my head and try to keep my customer's attention while taking care of their financial business.
I thought cell phones were bad. This is worse.
Speaking of cell phones, since the new law of hand free phones while driving I've noticed an increase in my customers using blue tooth. My entertainment comes from watching them try to figure out how to answer their phone. Usually the caller has hung up by the time the receiver has answered the phone. If you ask me, that may cause more accidents. However, now I really can't tell when a customer is talking to me or answering their phone. A "hello" could be directed to who knows who and when the person on the other end can't seem to hear my customer....they end up yelling in my face to be heard. How awkward to have someone look in your general direction and not be talking to. I'm creeped out.
Why is it that the rich have such poor manners? This statement is continually proved day by day. The longer the digets in their checking account the shorter their patience. Especially for a newbie. I don't know how long I can keep up the excuse that "I'm new and don't have as much access to account information as the next teller". Funny people. Yelling at me will get you know where. And just to let you know, you threatening to close your account doesn't really make me sad. Honestly...just as much as you don't want to be at my window all day...I don't want you there either.

Accuracy vs Getting Acquainted

Today was my first day at an actual window taking care of people's deposits. I thought I would get to have the same training I did when I began my days as a teller back in Washington: someone talking me through each deposit so I would get the hang of what to do.
It started out like that....for maybe 10 min. Then as the line of customers grew a bit my "trainer" left me to go to his window to help other customers. So there I was, staring at the poor person in front of me while I struggled with their deposit. For 8 hours today I was paranoid about totally screwing up people's accounts. "Winging it" is not something I would suggest for training a teller. I'm dealing with your money! Come on! You'd think more precaution would be taken.
About 5pm my assistant manager hovered over my shoulder. Good, like that makes you perform better. After I had finished with my customer she made me close my window.
"Ok, now I don't know what you do in Washington, but in California we require you use the customer's name at least 3 times. Did you notice anything when you pulled up his account?"
"uhh...no?"
"The reason you pull up their profile is so that you can see what they may need for their account. What can you refer?"
I tried to tell her that I was in the process of unlearning the Washington system to learn the California system, I was trying to make my transactions accurate, trying to remember the different processes for deposits, look for fraud, NSFs, and a few other things.
She responded by telling me that I also needed to be more social with my customers.
Listen lady, talking to customers is not a problem for me, but right now my priority is getting this deposits and payments done right. Right now, I don't care about your "numbers" and "scores". This is my first day and I'm trying not to totally eff these people's accounts.
But...I didn't say that. My next customer came to my window and I'm pretty sure I said his name 20 times. "How are you today Dave? How would you like your cash back Dave? Thank you for banking with us today Dave. Have you thought about having online banking Dave? ok, well have a nice day Dave."
Perhaps tomorrow will be better. I'm exhausted. It's only day one......

Back to the Bank

Fear no more! My bank stories will continue. Today was day two of training at my new branch. I have a completely new computer program to learn before getting in a window. Thankfully some things stay the same.
Listening to customers here in a ritzy town in southern California has taught me that know matter where you live, once you walk into a bank you'll find those beloved characters.
While the faces I did not recognize, their personalities were quite familiar. A older man argued that he shouldn't be charged for cashing his check that was drawn off of us while he was not an actual member. The confused older lady still took 15 min. to figure out which wallet she kept her bank information in. A boisterous man greeted me by saying "Hawoh". Fancy mom's and daughters stuck their noses in the air while clutching their Prada purses and hiding behind their Gucci glasses.
I look forward to talking to them more one on one. While I recognize a good chunk of them...I believe I have discovered a few more breeds.
Can't wait to pass on the tails!

The Stinging Sticky Note

As my search for a car continues I find my standards lowering as my urgency increases.
Frankly...car shopping on a very limited budget is a pain in the ass.
I went from "I'd like a cute little 2-door black stick shift Honda or Toyota coupe with really really great gas mileage and nearly brand new" to "Does it have 4 wheels? Does it have good gas mileage? Is it under $5,000? Good, I'll take it"
Thankfully one of my housemates is gone for the weekend and is letting me borrow her car to go to improv class.
Ah housemates. Ah community living! With 9 roommates and a 10th on the way our space is feeling a little cramped.
Communication is key when wanting to live harmoniously with one another. However, using cute little pastel sticky notes with a stinging sweet message sings the tune of passive aggressiveness that never sounds quite right with me. We seem to have notes all over the house. Last night I found one on the toilet seat reminding us to conserve water. Hmm, a sticky note on the toilet seat. Have things gone a little too far?

I don't mind sticky notes to leave funny messages to others or reminders for myself, but one house mate has this brilliant knack for fitting on that tiny tack of paper a message that reads sweet but hits sharp. Frankly I find it humorous and I prefer someone telling me if I'm doing something wrong to my face. I'm sure this is her way of communication. This is community and you either find a way to live with each other's quirks or you find somewhere new to live.
9 house mates is quite the humorous living situation. I know more stories will follow.

Hello You

Last night I got to perform my sketch "Hello You" (that I wrote) at the iO West's "Nicest Sketch in the World" Competition. As I sat back stage with the rest of the anxious actors I felt so happy to be where I was. Only a month and a half of living in L.A and I'm performing on the iO main stage. I've written my very first sketch, it's picked by Dave Holms and is considered one of the "nicest sketches in the world". He was so nice to talk to and he said he really loved "Hello You"
I didn't win the competition. The winner was decided by the audience. There were 7 other scenes and all were pretty darn funny. I had such a blast just being a part of this.
Thankfully I was lucky enough to make some friends before all this and was able to have one of my new friends perform with me. He did a great job. Woo Allen!

So, I'll include a little synopsis of my scene for you guys:
A guy and a girl walk hand in hand and sit on a park bench. Enjoying their cute little romantic setting, the guy and girl say how much they like being with each other. There is a long silence and the girl begins to feel awkward. So, to lighten the mood she turns to him and says "Hello you". The guy quickly responds with "I love you too." She is stunned but doesn't want to make him feel bad. She anguishes over what to do and finally blurts out that she said "hello you" not "I love you" and that she feels really bad because this is a big step for them but she's not ready and she couldn't live with the idea their relationship would be based on a Hello You misunderstanding. They guy expresses his relief saying he only said it because she said it. They sit for a moment then decide to go get pizza. As they leave, they turn to each other and say "Hello you"
Black out.


If only when this really happened to me 2 years ago I could have told him I said "Hello you" and not just kept silent during our romantic awkward moment. Ah life.

Training

Having a guy roommate who is neither you brother or significant other is like marriage training with out the benefits. I love my roommate. He's a great guy and totally laid back, but there are times where I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into the future of a married life. I find myself cleaning up after him. Rewashing his dishes, re-cleaning what I've asked him to clean...I find myself following a step behind him to do damage control but trying not to let him notice.
This morning we heard a big "pop" come from the refrigerator. I opened the door to discover his Rockstar he put in the freezer section had exploded and was dripping all over the rest of the refrigerator inhabitants. I asked him to please clean it up before going to work as it would dry and get really sticky all over the place. He grabbed for a big white clean bath towel to start cleaning. I quickly got a wash cloth and switched out the towel for him. He was done in a matter of a couple minutes. I knew there was no way he could have cleaned out that entire little fridge in that time. So, slyly, I got something out of the fridge and began to wash it off. "Oh! Did it get on that too?" It's every where buddy. So he cleaned a second time.
I waited till he left for work to do my version of the fridge wipe down.
One day after work I came home to find our one dish towel and all the dish rags in the dirty pile covered with coffee stains. I went looking for the big spill site and didn't find much of anything. I washed out the rags and towel as best I could since we needed something to clean dishes with later. I later found out what had happened was that there was some water on the kitchen floor from the wet dishes and Jon had slipped on it, flaying backwards, then forwards and head butting his head on the the mug of coffee he had set on the edge of the sink. The coffee few everywhere, the curtains, the wall, the floor, and all over his face and shirt. After hearing this I couldn't be mad at all. I was trying so hard not to pee my pants from laughing at the image of him face butting his coffee on the counter. He's kind of a klutz.
Last night Jon said something about the plugged kitchen sink and said I shouldn't dump my mac and cheese noodles down the drain because that's what clogged it. I didn't want to get in a battle of who's fault it was and my mac and cheese weren't in that sink longer than earlier that evening. The drain had been getting continually worse since we got here. I didn't feel like pointing out he dumped his grease from his cooking down the drain every night and that this sink was a problem before we even got here.
At night Jon likes to go to sleep watching television. Me, a light sleeper, finds this hard to cope with. Most nights I have to turn the t.v off after he's fallen asleep.
The bathroom situation still tends to make me feel a little awkward. With only a curtain and no door I think we both wait till the other is gone to work to do any personal business in there. With a curtain only separating our rooms I'm worried about a gust of wind blowing the "door" open while I'm changing.
I find myself on edge and unable to really relax. Apparently I like my things clean, organized, and safe.
Jon is a great roommate. It's just that the confines of this apt. are a little too small, and frankly, I've discovered, until I'm married, I'll stick with girl roommates.

A Month in Hollyweird

Well, I've been here just a little over a month now. I'm working two jobs. One as a barista (as earlier predicted) and also working for Ann Taylor (women's apparel) . Coffee and Clothes. What more could a girl want?
Our bathroom of death continues to worsen. The only thing I could find to keep the shower head where it belonged was electrical tape. So far it's holding up but due to the amount of times the shower head has fallen, there is a nice big crack in it, I'm pretty sure more water comes out the crack then through the actual spray area. Water pressure is lacking. I might as well wash my hair in the sink....if that wasn't clogged. I think the sink in the kitchen is beginning to get back up as well. So now we just brush our teeth and spit into the toilet. That we can flush and make go away....for now.
Thankfully we made a deal with our renter to only pay every two weeks since we are desperately looking for a new place to stay. Right now it looks like I may be moving out into the suburbs for a while to live with my friend Candice (she was a roommate of mine in N. Ireland). Rent will be much cheaper and I need to get into a place of better financial security. Even with two mediocre jobs I can not afford a place close to the metro rail. I feel I'm taking quite a step back, but I think it's best for the long run. I hope to still make it to my improv classes once a week, but that might be it for improv for now. Sometimes it's best to slow down to get a stronger footing. That way I can run longer and further instead of burning out and having to move back home.
This will make things easier for Jon since now he can look for a place closer to work and it doesn't need to be by the metro in the more expensive areas.
All in all things are going well. I'm really enjoying this learning process of growing up and living in the real world. Finances suck as I'm sure you all know. So it's been interesting figuring out what works best for me.

Before ending this update I have a great Hollywood story for you!


I had the most stereotypical run in with a Hollywood director/producer the other day. I was walking along the street and this tall black man walked up to me and said "Girl, mmm you better put some aloe vera on your skin every day!" I told him I always wear sunblock to which his reply was "Ya, but you need to put aloe on to keep it nice and soft and protected. You have some nice fair skin....What you do in this town?" I told him I started doing improv. I tried to get away but he kept talking. "Oh your a funny girl. When's your show I'd love to see you. I'm a director and a producer and I'm always looking for someone new who's got 'it'. You have a brilliance about you. I can see that. Your going to make it to the top." I thanked him for his encouragement and tried to leave again. "You should call me. Here put my number in your phone. You have a phone, Don't pretend you don't". So I took out my phone hoping this would finally let me leave. He gave me his number and I pretended to put it in. " Now you better call me. Don't go all Hollywood on me and not call. We can just hang out or something. I'm doing lots of projects and doing stuff for HBO and shit." I told him that was great. After a little bit more awkward sentences were spoken I finally got away.
A couple hours later as I was enjoying a nice ice tea and a book at Cafe Audrey the guy showed up again! He was just visiting a friend who "supposedly owned the place". "Well look who it is! This must be fate!" He sat down at my table and the awkward conversation resumed. I tried so hard to get him to go away but still be nice. "Why haven't you called? I'm just kidding. But seriously you should call me soon. Sorry I'm so jittery right now I'm in the middle of a bunch of shit that I"m getting started. I'm doing a documentary that's up for a Nobel Peace Prize." It has something to do with a nation and God....I don't know. I couldn't read his outline because he kept talking a mile a minute. Laying all his cards on the table of how special he was and all the stuff he was doing. At that moment two Hollywood Hotties walked by and he stopped in mid sentence to look at them. He turned back to me and said "Mmm, I'm always looking for new talent." I looked through some of his other papers he had on the table and noticed another "project" titled something like "Sexy Kittens". Hmmm a Nobel Peace Prize piece and porn. You really got all your areas covered.
Finally he left the table after shaking my hand three times and staring at me for a long time "absorbing my 'brilliance'". I thought about my run in and laughed. Over the course of two conversations he never once asked my name or really anything about me. He sold himself on every level. How sad, I thought, those caricatures are true for a reason. They really exist.

A Few Weeks In La La Land

What do I have in common with Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, and Mary Pickford? I have the same size hands. I know! I checked - first hand at Grauman's Chinese Theatre.

Today, as I walked over the stars across Hollywood Blvd. in search of a new place to call my own, my tired feet stumbled into the cutest cafe. Cafe Audrey. Done up in black and white with pictures of Audrey Hepburn hung across the walls. A wonderful highlight to my rather disappointing day. Even with two jobs I don't see much hope in affording a studio apartment on my own. Most studios in the area run about $1,000 a month to $1,500 a month. However...I do still hope. If I can get myself 2 jobs (at a cafe and hopefully soon at Ann Taylor) in a matter of a few weeks in town - I can find a place to call my own.

Things really have gone well so far despite the cramped living quarters. I met Al Pacino the other day and saw a private screening of his new documentary he's working on. There was only 15 of us in that private screening room on the Santa Monica Boardwalk. My being there was all due to my roommate being Al's assistant. While watching his movie I would remember every now and then that I was only a few feet away from Al watching his movie...just three weeks of being in town! What are the odds?!

While still new to the city I find it justifiable to do touristy things - hence Grauman's Chinese Theatre. After the tour I got to talking to the guide. He gave me his e-mail address and said if I ever wanted to see a movie in that great theatre (one of the finest in the nation) just to write and he'd get me a ticket.
I've had my first class at the iO (improv Olympic) and am excited for the knowledge to come. All those I've met who are in the program or are alumni of the program have been so nice, encouraging, and welcoming. The iO is a very nice place to be. The heart there is the closest to pure and genuine that I have felt while here.
I found a theatre that plays old movies! I rejoice at any chance to get a first hand glimpse of the golden era of Hollywood. I hope to find more. While walking across those stars on Hollywood Blvd. I kinda feel that the dirt and grime represent the hard times in the beginning. It's what stands between me and that star.
From this quaint Audrey cafe I write to you and give my love and best wishes. I thank you all for your continued support.
More to come. Much love. Cheers

Shower of Death

Here's an adventure for ya! So our bathroom is trying to kill us. The shower head isn't really attached to the wall. Well it is, by one screw that loosely hangs in the wall. I'm scared to turn my back in case the screw lets loose. And if the pipe holding up the shower head does choose to stay then the clip holding the actual head of the shower is only half a clip. You pray that gravity won't be pushing the limit so it will stay up there. But gravity is not always on your side! One day while Jon was turning off the water the shower head fell and hit him on the spine. I shower in fear of my life!
Over the past couple days the drain in the sink has been getting slower. Today it came to a dead stop. Jon and I attempted to unclog it. I bought the Draino (which took me an hour to go get using the wonderful bus system of L.A). No luck. He took out a part of the pipe and when the smell filled the room I thought he was going to loose it....and if he lost it I would CERTAINLY loose it! So I ran into the other room.
I though it was bad enough having a curtain for a door. That was only the beginning.....

Stories From A Starving Starlet

So, my first week in Hollywood has been an interesting adventure. Filled with high and low points. High was being greeted by my friend at the airport. Low was seeing my new apt.

I figure I'm on the right track. What successful actor/actress started out with an amazing apartment? So what if our apartment is small and in the ghetto? So what if the first morning there I had to kill of a hoard of ants on the kitchen counter. At least anything I move to now will be a step up!

The other day I almost bought a car...then realized the wallet doesn't close back up at the price tag. Oh no! Since I had never even considered buying a car I had to go through the eye opening experience of seeing the number grow when adding in lisence, registration, taxes, insurance, monthly payments, gas....ya....so what did I smartly decide?
I bought a bike!

It's gas efficient! It's earth friendly! I don't have to buy a membership to the gym! See?! So many good things.
Along with my tiny apartment in the ghetto comes a the joy of really getting to know my roommate. The bathroom only has a curtain separating the two rooms. So, every morning I excuse myself to the living room while he takes his morning...well, you know. What makes it even more interesting is my roommate is a guy friend from Comedy Sportz Portland (we have a mutual friend as well). So.... what a fun way of getting to know someone eh?
I've started out on the right foot. A tiny apartment in a sketchy neighborhood, e-mailing headshot and resume to as many casting announcements as possible, no car, no job....
Until I get to be one of those paid starlets, I think I may take up coffee making again. You know, work on my foam art. Perhaps have stories "From the Berated Barista".

One other good thing about where I live: from my kitchen sink I can see the "Hollywood" sign. A little motivation as I wash my dishes and kill more ants.

My Last Day

No longer do I have to explain to customers why I haven't left yet. No longer will I hear the teasing "Thought you went to Toronto!" or "Your still here?!?" or "So, you ever getting out of here?".
Friday was my last day at the bank. My co-workers surprised me with balloons and a cake at my window so all day my customers wished me "Happy Birthday". To most of them I explained they were going away balloons - hence the "Good Luck" written on the balloon. I felt like I had to convert every one I talked to.
"Where you going to?"
"L.A" I said.
"What?! Why! It's gross and dirty and dangerous."
"Thanks for the encouragement. I'm going down there to do improv and comedy."
"Ooohhh that's going to be hard. You know, not everyone makes it."
"Really? I thought you just go down there, take a number, and wait for your turn at fame! I thought following your dreams was easy and paved with great financial security and great things falling into your lap!" - this was not said but said in my mind before saying "ya, I know, but pursuing your dreams isn't easy."
I would then go on about how I already had a room mate, a hopeful transfer with the bank, money saved up, friends offering me their couch if I needed a place to stay to get back on my feet if financially tight.
Finally by the time they left my window with their cash and receipt I got a hand shake and best wishes in return.
I still have so many more stories to share about my crazy customers. So here are my little notes I've kept by my keyboard.

- Loosing my censor on things I say back to customers : A man came up to my window and handed me his credit card payment saying "Well, I guess it's that time of the month." to which my response was "Really? I thought that only happened to women."
A customer angrily asked me why his account was overdrawn. Out of my mouth flew "Because you spent more than your had."
When young women (and older ones) come up to my window caked in makeup and wearing tight fitting clothing hand over a pile of ones I have to hold back the comment "Gee I wonder where you got these." Usually it's the answer you would first suspect.

-Things that I've heard from my customers which has made me think that those with rich bank accounts have poor manners: A lady asked me if I could see if the money she was giving me for her credit card payment was the closing balance. I told her that I had no access to credit card accounts except to make payments but she could call the customer service number to speak with someone to get her account info. She aggressively asked me to call that number and talk to customer service for her. I told her I couldn't because the line was growing longer and because it was not our job or responsibility to deal with customer's credit card accounts. She looked at me a moment then said "Well! You can't do much of anything!" I stared blankly at her for a moment and then proceeded with her payment.

-There have been many times that I have helped a customer with their deposit and after filling out their entire deposit slip and processing it in the computer the customer looks at their receipt and says "I asked you put it in savings!" When they had distinctly told me checking. I don't know how many times I have had to re-write deposit slips because my customer can not make up their mind as to what they want to do. They blame me for taking up their time and for not listening to them.

-Cell phones are another issue that seems to worsen everyday. To my dismay I've had people who get up to my window while on the phone, proceed with a pointless conversation, wait until they are finished on the phone, then do their banking. Or it's the reverse. While in the middle of them telling me of their banking desires their phone rings. They answer and when I've given them their receipt they remain at my window until their conversation is over. A few customers are a little more considerate and try to pack up their stuff while on the phone. How funny to watch them awkwardly putting their cash and card and receipt in their wallet or purse with one hand. Some try the shoulder ear hold so they can use both hands but that usually ends in disaster with their phone crashing to the floor.

-I have a terrible habit of being a psychic teller and finishing my customer's sentences. I seem to not have the patience to wait for them to find the words. Oddly enough I already know what they want.
"Can I have an......"- "Envelope?"
"Could you give me a...." - "A balance?"
"I need to get money out of my....." - "Checking?"

-Oooh! Here's a favorite of mine. Customers who tell me what I can do as a teller. "I don't know my account number! That's your job! You have it in that little computer of yours. Just look me up and you can find me." Or when they tell me that I don't need to put a hold on their checks, or that they don't need to give me their i.d when cashing a large or state issued check. "Well I know 'so-and-so' and they always cash them for me. You must be new!". Their reason behind their advice is that they used to work in a bank and they know the rules. Funny thing is, if they really did work in a bank they should know that the rules and regulations are constantly changing due to security.

-Sometimes I really do feel like and advice consultant. One customer asked me how much I should take out of his account. "Well, what are you using the cash for?" I ask. "Rent? Bills? For fun?" Like I should know how much you want!

-Weird pick up techniques: I've gotten business cards, numbers written on bank papers, odd pick up lines. One guy, after offering him a candy, asked if I wanted to share. My facial response of disgust gave him my answer quick enough. One guy told me he didn't want small talk. He was in a hurry. However, he gave me his business card. He said if I ever needed windows or something to give him a call. I told him not likely since I was moving to California. With that he leaned in the window and rested his chin on his hand and said "well now I have to talk to you. You intrigue me". Nice going buddy, you just told me I wasn't worth your time a second a go. I made the mistake of saying I was going to go to California to do improv and comedy. "Oh comedy! Tell me something funny". I denied his request but he kept asking. Finally he said "I'll give you a topic and you say something funny about it." He gave me the topic of babies. So I told him of a loud baby in the audience for a show I did. When I finished he asked for more. I said "Look, I just did your whole deposit, got your cash, counted it correctly, filled out your deposit slip, and got your balance for you, all while give you a 'comedy' routine about babies. Give me some credit." He leaned in once again and said "I will leave you with this piece of advice: Do you know what the greatest sign of human love is?" Please don't let it be me going on a date with you I thought. "Human sacrifice." With that, he left. Looking back on the conversation I couldn't tell if he was hitting on me or insulting me. One positive note: a guy sent a rose through the drive up. I liked that deposit.

-One lady and I were talking of gas prices and when I gave her her cash she said I don't know why I need to buy so much gas. I have too much of my own. FYI: You don't need to discuss your personal health issues with your bank teller.

-With so little reliance we now have on human interaction I find we listen less and less. When asking a customer what I can do for them I get the reply "Fine" before I even finish asking my question. Sometimes when a customer asks for the balance and I tell them they say "No it's not! What is it really?" Right, like I would lie about your balance. If you ask me again I'll change my answer. So keep on asking and maybe you'll hear the balance you like! This consistent repetition of a question when not liking the answer is more common than you may expect. Some people are just determined to bully you into telling them what you want to hear.
I find a dark humor to this. If they are already being a jerk I find it funny to see how far I can go with still being "nice" to them. Kind of like "how far can I go with batting my eyes at them?"
I actually laughed out loud when a customer yelled at me for not cashing his dodgey check and cussed me out.

-Once while looking out into the lobby at the line waiting for the teller line I saw the image of Darwin's theory of mankind. The tallest up front then descending shorter to the end of the line. The last man was hunched over in a wheel chair.

-Did you know it's still possible to smell the not so washed customers while working drive up? You can smell it in the tubes!

-Once while working in the drive up a customer sent up their checkbook, check card, i.d, work i.d, and their cash. They wanted me to do the deposit and then write their deposit with the balance in the check book for them.

-One lady pulled up to the drive up and got out of her car to send up the tube. As she stood in front of the video camera her car began to roll away. Apparently in her hurry to deposit she forgot to park the car.

-One day we had an interesting character hanging out in the foyer. He had his hood over his head and was walking back and forth looking into the banking center. After too long of being their we called the cops check him out. When the cops asked him what he was doing he told them he was bank security. "Making sure the bank was running in top order". When the cops asked what he was REALLY doing there he admitted that he was a Jedi knight protecting the bank.

-As one guy was being handcuffed in the lobby for trying to cash fraudulent checks he told the cops "This just isn't my day".

-I was cashing a check for a lady that was for $5.23. She asked for a $5 bill and a quarter. I asked if she wanted to give me 2 cents in exchange. She looked at me strangely. I explained that I could give her quarter if she gave me 2 cents to make up the difference for the check. "No! Just give me a quarter back!".

-There are some customers that seem to move like a slug stuck in molasses. While they slowly put their belonging back in their wallet or purse with out fail there seems to be that one person that hovers behind them trying to push them out of the window. I don't mind those that take longer with packing up, I just feel bad for them being pushed out by Mr. Antsy Banker.

-I had one guy who saw the long line and waited until the customer in my window was done before swooping down and landing at my window in front of all the customers in line. Suffice it to say I felt like a mom telling her kid not to cut in line and go to the end of the line and wait until his turn.


Hope you didn't mind the length of this story but I wanted to make sure I had some document of my teller days. I'll probably have more someday. I hope to stay with the bank when I move to California.
For now, these Teller Tales will be taken over by Stories of a Starving Starlet commenting on my next adventure in Hollywood.
Cheers.

Welcome to zoo of America, may I feed your animal today?

Today's winning deposit was a parakeet.


I've had it! I draw the line of people bringing in their stupid pets when a man's bird decides to clickity-clack across my keyboard with it's little claws and disease infested feathers.

The owner walked into the bank already looking suspicious. He wore a large tan trench coat, sunglasses, and a hat. I got a little worried seeing him in line. He looked like he could have been a robber... or a flasher!...except I could see the pantlegs. As he walked up to my window he took his hand out of his pocket. Instead of a gun he pulled out his parakeet. He layed it on the counter and the bird started walking closer to me and then walked over my keyboard. It took everything in me to put my hand near it and have him walk onto my finger.
"Here! Take your bird!" I said trying not to sound too disgusted. I then found out the man wasn't even our customer and he only had some vague questions about IRAs.

I feel like our bank is a pet store sometimes. There are a few dogs I don't mind that come in. They are small and quiet. Still, our money is dirty enough we don't need animals. I have seen people bring in a tiny monkey, a ferret, a rat, and now a bird.

Please! this is not a zoo. Leave the wildlife where it belongs.

I am not an animal hater. I like watching those nature channels and I don't want them to die, but please don't make me touch it. I don't know why animals freaks me out but they do.

As soon as creepy flasher bird man left you can be sure the lysol and anti-bacterial were soon brought out.

Please. Leave your animals at home.

Tearing Away Toronto

My mind can't seem to accept the fact I'll be back at the bank tomorrow.
Sorry my tales have not been on the more humorous side as of late, but in between my laughter comes insights into reality.

I think I have officially fallen in love with Toronto. What contrast I feel from my first week. I'm still the small town girl, but this big city has given me such a big hug. All this is due to the people I have met.
My second and last weekend of class deepend my friendships, I actually met the mayor of Toronto and he gave me a few pointers on how to move here. I went to see The Hour and talked with George Stromboulopoulos and he set me up to meet with the head writers of the show. They were so friendly and gave me advice on where to take the next steps to possibly work there with them.
Hanging out with Deb and her friends: I never once felt like they were just her friends. I can't recall one negative encounter with a person. I know I am lucky and this has been only two weeks, but my heart wants to come back here so badly. In the arts and entertainment world here there doesn't seem to be that race to be celebrity.
I worry for L.A, but if I keep my eyes set on coming back here and working I know that L.A will provide some of the experience I need to make a good resume.
I know some of what I did here is considered "networking". I don't like that word though. It has such a self-driven conotation to it. I like to think of these people I met as friends. We're all a family in the art world and are trying to continue to dig deeper into the art.
It's naive and hopeful, but I'll hang on to that as long as I can.
Cheers.

Day One/ Week One

Day One
17 Jan 2008

This is how I know my life is a comedy:
I made it Toronto safely. My flight early and my bags intact.
Today I got settled into my little furnished apartment that's really a room, kitchen, and bathroom on the third floor of someone's house.
As Deb and I followed the directions given to me by "landlady" we walked the cold streets of Toronto. I tried to keep an eye on all buildings so I could remember landmarks to help me find my way around when I was on my own.
As we got closer to the address I noticed flags hanging from windows and shops. The Canandian flag? I think not. Think more colorful.
The gay pride flag.
Deb started laughing "I think your apartment is in the gay neighborhood".
Yes my friends. It is.
If I didn't already start to feel like a small town girl in a big city and waaaayyyy out of place I sure did now.

The lady who owns the house is very nice and the third floor is pretty seperate from the rest of the house. I am reminded of my housemates when the kids come home though.
While putting away my tioletries I noticed there was a big window across from the shower....and no curtain. Not even frosted glass. Looks like I'll be giving free shows if I don't find something to put up quick!

I went down to see the Second City training center. I felt like such and awkward 13 year old. "Uh hi! I was wondering where the training center is (I was at their main stage). I just flew in from Washington! I'm all turned around. I'm so excited for class. I just wanted to find where it was now so I don't get lost tomorrow." All this said in one stream and one breath. The guys at the desk gave me an interesting look and told me where the training center was. Deb made some funny quick remark to the guys to account for my 13-year-oldness.

ugh. Day one. It's a funny thing to be in a big city and feel completely alone.
I have Deb, but I still feel really out of place.
Things will get better I know. I'm just observing my feelings as of day one.
cheers.

Week One
Tiny Fish; Big Ocean.

At first I thought it would be a culture shock to be living in a big city, but as the days have passed and the classes have finished for the first weekend I've had time to think things through.

My classes at Second City have been going well. A lot is review but since most of the fundamentals have not come second nature to me I am grateful for the repetition.

I get in to see the Second City shows for a good discount (some free student shows) so I'm attending all that I can. I saw my first mainstage show Sunday. They are an amazing group.

My thoughts as I headed to the subway afterwards were things I had figured I might think and feel. But no amount of reading and journaling could really prepare my heart for the realization of just how far I have to go if I am to "make it".
It seems funny to me that even though I've been preparing myself for this big ocean/tiny fish feeling it didn't really hit home until I took the first step.

I thank you soooo much for all of your support. I realize just how important that is to hang on to to keep going.

I know I have a long way to go and will have to work really hard. It's just an interesting experience to see the knowledge/realization go from my head down to my heart.

cheers.
-J

Straw is cheaper, grass is free

Today's winner of my observation was a tall gentleman. The first thing he said to me, as he loomed high above, was: "How do I get someone off of my account? My wife and I hate eachother and we're getting a divorce". Before I could set out my "Doctor is 'in' " sign I noticed a gathering of spit/drool at the corners of his mouth. I just stared. He talked in a mouth full of marbles way and with the help of some crazy physics the spit just stayed in the cracks. I was worried that gravity would take over and it would spill over. Him being so tall and me so short just had to add up to a gross outcome. But, alas, it did not. There had to have been a slight pause before I could answer him. I just stared at this cluster. You know how someone has that little piece of spit or some kind of white thing that clings from one lip to another? It keeps going from top lip to bottom lip to top lip. And all you can think is "please lick your lips, that "spittle" is REALLY distracting." Ya, it was kinda like that.

I get distracted pretty easily. Like if someone has a lazy eye. I feel so bad because I don't know which one to look into. Or if they have a little something hanging out of their nose. Or food stuck to the side of their mouth. I practically have to make them repeat themselves 3 times so I can hear all that they are saying.

There's this guy that comes into the bank and I swear he bought his toupee from a barn. There is no way it's real hair. I dread him coming to my window because I just know I'll be looking at his hair line where you can see the matting of his hay hair. You can actually see the piece sitting on his head. It looks like someone did needle point with straw. It's just awful. Not to mention how awkward I feel when he makes "funny" comments. They aren't funny and he has this forced nervous laughter that makes me nervous in return.

I can't help but be honest in my observations. I have no doubt in my mind that I have ordered many a hamburger with something hanging out my nose or big piece of dandruff chillin in my hair or ketchup on my cheek. We're all human.

And that's why life is so darn funny.

Desperate to be Desperate

Today and yesterday were whoppers of days for crazy customers. This week has been pretty interesting to say the least. Since this week has held the end of the month paychecks, first of the month paychecks, social security checks, and holidy expenses needing to be paid I have seen a wide variety of stressed smelly crazy people.


Funny thing, I actually like the "crazy" ones more than the "normal" ones.

Yesterday, while working the drive up, I got yelled at by an antsy lady. "BEEP!" the teller call button blared in my ear. I'm finishing up with the other customer I had with a really big transaction to do and a bunch of little ones. I press the button to tell the beeping customer to wait just a minute. I'll be with her in just a minute. Before I could even say anything she said "Excuse me, are you going to help me?!" I had already greeted her and said I would be with her in a moment about 3 minutes ago. I thought she was aware of the two cars that were at the drive up before her. "I'll be with you in just a second. I'm finishing up with another customer-" "well I have somewher I need to be! This is taking forever!" My patience at that point in the day had run out. So my reply back was a sweet as I could make it. Trying so hard not to sound too sarcastic. "I see here that you have 5 checks you want me to cash for you. Seeing as we have a 2 transaction limit I was going to do you a favor and cash this for you. But first I'm finishing up cashing the 5 checks my other customer sent up to me". I'm pretty sure she called me a bitch but I had hit the "off" button before I could here it in my ear piece.



She's a good example of the "I'm fighting off my age by trying to dress hip and high light my hair and study desperate house wives to be a totally bad ass hot mom, with my beautiful orange tan, and I'm even wearing these ridiculously huge sunglasses despite the fact that I live in the Pacific Northwest but I'm just too good for this small town po-dunkery" kind of lady. I get them all the time. Mostly through the drive up. Usually on their cell phone. I have actually been "shushed"!!! They have even rolled up their window when I ask if I'm making a deposit for them. They wave me a way, glare at me, or completely ignore me!

I'm not a freaking ATM.

It's been a long week. This is only one instance. I have too many stories to write here. You would deffinately not feel like reading it all. So I'll keep plunking down these stories little by little.

I'm just glad you like them. Life is funny. We just need to see it that way.
Cheers.

Sole Brotha

So I have to tell you this!

It's the last half hour of work and this fella comes in. He's scruffy and has a freshly stamped out cigarette in his hand. As he stands in line I know he'll be my next customer. I just know it. He's about to step up to my window...but wait!....he raises his foot practically to his head. And there it is. His foot. Bare. Dirty - black almost....like his scruffy hair. "Look! No shoes!" he shouts. He walks his way up to my window. "Don't wear shoes. Don't like 'em. My ma tried to make me wear 'em when I was a kid. Hated it. No shoes on me!"
I really would have liked to chat with him, but his stale cigarette breath and stinky hair made my eyes water. It was worse than an onion effect. I tried looking away. Turning around. Fresh air! Anywhere! Anyone?!
Finally he left my window after getting a balance. Something he could have done from the ATM.
He left, the smell stayed, and the story is all that remains of this sole brotha.