HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I Love this holiday. Candy, dressing up, and scaring little kids- it doesn’t get much better than that! I was having a discussion this morning about how we used to have to get the candy checked out by the parents; and my friend told me that in his town, in Pennsylvania, when all that poisoned candy thing was going on, that they stopped trick or treating all together and they got their candy from the Fire Department. He said it was cheap candy too. So that brought on the subject of the yucky candy. It is an American tradition, in which a handfull of geniouses have to instill, to give out the yucky candy. Every Halloween it inevitably happens to every kid, that he or she pours out the candy on the living room floor, and looks down (person about to get stabbed in a horror movie music) to see the candy with the black and orange wrapper. The disgusting, much hated, black and orange candy. Somebody’s gotta do it though, and in the spirit of terror and horror, I decided I’ll go out and buy some to give out. It occurred to me during this conversation too, that one year I passed out little wrapped tampons with the candy. The idea of “Mommy, what’s this?”, brought me sheer delight. It’s awful! I can’t believe I actually did that. Anyways, Happy Halloween people!

My favorite holiday is here. I've got about 30min until I have leave for a Halloween party; and since I'm ready early, and in a state of anticipation, I'll write to you guys for a minute. I'm quite pleased with myself this year considering I have a store bought costume. I usually go all out and make my own. Last year Cruella DeVil, year before Carmen Miranda. This year I'm a cute little kitty-cat. More like a naughty kitty, really. Mee-ow! I'll have to post pics once I get them. Happy Halloween all! Eat lots of candy on monday!

Fred Bob.

I love that man. He is one of my favorite drinking buddies. He’s usually at the bar after work, and I love walking into the bar to see him sitting there. We don’t always talk either, and that’s one of the things I love about him. We’ll sit there in silence for quite a few minutes, then one of us sees something on the t.v. and we comment; or we’ll overhear someone say something stupid and we just look at each other and laugh. We confide in each other; and seeing as he’s about thirty years my senior, he’s usually giving me advice.

As far as ‘stirring the grits’ and ‘seeing things before they happen’ goes, he likes to be a little antagonistic. For instance, a couple nights ago, there weren’t any seats near us when our buddy Donna walks in. She decides she’s going to sit across the bar from us. The guy who is sitting in the seat next to her was at the bathroom. Donna is prim and proper, and a huge fan of cleanliness. There’s not much room at the side she chose to sit on, about three feet between the bar and the wall. Fred Bob says to me “Lisa, watch this.” And he points over in Donna’s direction. I notice the guy coming back from the bathroom. He’s about 250lbs., greasy looking, and I can imagine-but don’t know for sure- smelly too. Donna gets this look of surprise on her face as she sees this big man coming towards her to squeeze himself in between her, the barstools, the bar and the wall. She is just squirming, and shirking, and contorting to try not to get touched by this man. And the look on her face!- She was mortified! We fell out of our seats laughing. She didn’t think it was as funny as we did.

The man's got a dirty dirty mind. My reactions vary depending on the subject matter. Sometimes he can be so sickly funny. He forever ruined my receiving of compliments from men. He bought a birthday card for a lady friend of his one year, and showed it to me. This is what it consisted of:

“What men really mean when they say to you:

You look nice today = I wanna f*%k
I like your hair = I wanna f*%k
(more compliments = same)
I wanna f*%k = Give me a bj”

And yes, it’s just a joke card, but he had me convinced that this is the truth. And ever since then, it never fails that either he or I say to one another “I like your hair…..” I cannot receive a compliment from a man now without thinking ‘yeah right, I know what you’re up to.’ Crazy? Maybe, but it’s just one of those things that has become thoroughly engrained in my brain.

Speaking of things being engrained in your brain, my mother just asked me to get this gargantuan cockroach and put it outside. “Can I just kill it? They reproduce like mad.” Mom: “No, its an outdoor cockroach, let it go.” So I get the roach, I throw it out over the porch and see it lands on its back on top of the grass. Mom now has me seeing this roach as a 'special wee being', and the kinder self in me has to now get her socks wet to go flip the roach over so he can crawl away to find another entrance inside my house. It’s like the time one of my friends caught a lizard and was going to give it to me as a pet. I tell my mom, and she says “Och, the pur wee critter, let it go. You can’t keep it caged up.” After that, I had to let it go I just felt too bad. Mom’s guilt trips.

I got my driver's liscence back last week. It's such a great thing. It was nice driving myself to and from work those last four days or so.

Yesterday was a beautiful day in Georgia, and about mid-morning I decided to head up to the mountains for my previously oft-driven tour through Dahlonega to Wolf Pen Gap to Helen. I enjoyed the scenery, and the music. It's always soothing, and this is the best time of year to go up there with all the leaves changing color. It's mighty different driving a stick-shift through those mountains, and I don't want to try that one again. Fourth gear, third gear, second, third -nope- second after all. AAAHH!

I also took a wrong turn and did not end up in Helen, but Cleveland, Georgia. I forgave myself since it had been two years since I made that drive. My parents used to take me to Cleveland when I was a kid to see Babyland General, the place where "all" Cabbage Patch Kids are born, in a cabbage patch. They literally have a nurse cutting leaves from the head of a cabbage while the babydoll gets pulled into this world. It's fascinating as an innocent young girl with a whole collection of the dolls. So, once I hit the town square in Cleveland, it occured to me that I had never driven to or from the place, and didn't know how to get home. I started out on a road that said "South" so I knew I was going the right direction, but for added saftey and saving myself from the prospect of arriving in another town I didn't know how to get home from, I called good ol dad, because he always has the answers. I was going the right way, but at least I knew for sure at that point.

Once I got back in town, a few different drivers seemed hell bent on killing me, and I needed a beer. So I went to this bar I used to work at, and ended up having a big reunion of drunken souls. It was pretty fun. The ladies decided to start up a drinking club called "Girls Gone Ballistic", they are going to hold weekly meetings in which they will dress sexy, get drunk, and either love on or pick on all the men around. Fred Bob is the new mascot, and they are going to make pins with his face on them. I can't wait to get one. If you knew Fred Bob you would know how utterly hysterical this is. He's a sweet man with a gutter mind, who likes to (as he puts it) help us "stir the grits." He sees things before they even happen, and then tells you to watch, and always sheer laughter errupts. I'll have to tell you more about Fred Bob in my next post, because I'm sick of typing. I'll tell you about the "grits", and how he has forever ruined for me the recieving of compliments from men.

don't like the pic anymore. maybe I'll find a new one.

One of my favorite people, Andy, just started a blog. The dude's hysterical. And if it weren't for him I would have had more conniption-fits at work than I did. Although telling your boss to kiss your ass is fun.

Here's a little commentary on what my exboss is like. Some background: I quit because he kept giving me shitty monday nights expecting me to be grateful, while the girl(slurp slurp on the boss' jimmy) I helped train into bartending 2 weeks ago, me being a 3year veteran in the business, has friday and saturday nights. This incident happened to Andy just last night:

"When you get a text message from your boss that says, "the sales just don't make sense, Call me tomorrow for your new job description" What do you think????? Me either. .... It catches you off guard when he has you doing all of the paperwork, now all of a sudden he is a fucking rocket scientist at figuring out what the bar should have sold, based on the amount of people at the bar..... It can't be the lousy owner, or the ingenius idea of not marketing, it has to be the best employees stealing from him. GRRRRR."
Andy's site is here.

My love goes out to Andy, as we established last night- he is the last of the Mohicans, the longest serving employee of that bar. He's going to need a lot of strength, and maybe a bottle of prozac, to withstand the ass-backwardness of that place and the incompetent owner.

Goodbye Camp Drunkass

My hatred for my (now) ex-boss came to a head (she said "head") yesterday, and I am no longer an employee at Camp Drunkass. It's always good business to defecate on your best employees, while giving privleges to those who "privilege" you.

Here's your sign:

As much as I love the Rolling Stones, I have to agree with Twenty here.

Saw Henry Rollins thursday night doing his spoken word. It was overwhelming! I really enjoyed myself. My friend Jen and I ate dinner at this little burrito joint next door to the Variety Playhouse before the show. Jen disappeared on me; and while I was sitting there nursing my beer, I hear this great shuffling, and all the women were gone. I asked what was going on, and found out that Henry was behind the Variety lifting weights. I didn't run back there because I didn't want to bother him. I did meet him after the show, shook his hand and told him I enjoyed the show.
What a night! That was a very rich expierience, listening to him speak. Wow.

big frowny face

What a stressful two weeks!!!! You guys have been the red-headed step-child!!!!!!
I'm considering nixing the blog, because I don't have as much time as I used to. I'm one of those people who believe if you can't do it right, than don't do it at all. I've got more tales from Camp Drunkass etc, so I'll keep on for a minute. You'll hear from me Tuesday.

Oh man, this is a real loss in the theatre world. A brilliant playwright August Wilson has passed away.

WHERE AM I??

I'm still alive.....................just barely. Stressfull, stressfull week.