A can of Mace and a Gallon of Syrup

Sitting here alone on Easter and contemplating my life.  This was the first, major holiday I have ever spent away from my family and it really sucked to know they were sitting down to a family brunch while I slaved away for $5 an hour serving other families their Easter brunch.  Sigh.  It's days like these I miss my small town, and I hate to admit it, but I actually miss Mollister (you know... the place I used to work that I can't use the real name of since I slandered them repeatedly in previous entries).  I was listening to Kings of Leon radio on Pandora and they kept playing songs by Phoenix and Fun that used to play at Mollister and it made me all nostalgic and sad, so now I'm just sitting here listening to Lady Gaga Pandora, and T.A.t.u is playing... good stuff.  I was in a foul mood when I got out of work (which seems to be coming an increasingly common occurrence as of late) and then the L-train took 12 minutes just to get to the 8th Ave. platform where I stood waiting.  All around me were happy families coming or going to Easter dinners and couples PDA-ing and it was unbearable to be standing there alone.   I could have taken this weekend off in advance if I really needed to, but seeing as how the place where I work was dark (aka... no shows were scheduled) two days last week, I knew if I wasn't available to work on the weekend I probably wouldn't get scheduled at all and I need money.  It's the life of hard-knocks for this girl. sigh. I miss Bijou and Ceely so much it's ridiculous.  I've been having my parents send me pictures of them on a bi-weekly basis.  Last week my sweet Bijou got in a cat fight and had a scratch on his third-eyelid, which required a visit to the vet and some topical creme.  My poor baby, he needs his mom home to protect him from the neighborhood bullies.  lol.

At least the weather is getting warmer and sunnier so hopefully I can shed the winter weight I put on (thanks to baked goods, hearty pasta dishes, and drunken San Loco fests) and also lose my severe case of the SADs (Seasonal Affective Disorder).  Yesterday was nearly 60 degrees, and since I was all alone with nothing to do, I spent the afternoon sunbathing in my skiver-me-shimbers on the terrace.  It was really nice to feel the warm sun searing my flesh that hadn't seen the light of day in about 8 months time. hahaha.

The only thing that would have made this better would have been a delicious cocktail and a hot masseur. 

My parents sent back some treats with my sister and brother in law including a gallon of maple syrup and a can of mace. lol... my dad decided I needed a can of mace to carry in my purse to defend myself in the event of an attacker when I get out of work at night.  He keeps reminding me every time I speak with him on the phone not to get it in my eyes and to read the instructions.... I swear, he thinks I'm five sometimes.  Now that I'm older, I appreciate my dad's over-protectiveness.  I mean, not only did the man make and pack my school lunches for 12 years of my life (he went through such great lengths as to cook bacon so he could make me club sandwiches and BLTs for years), but he always serviced my car, changed the oil, made sure I had gloves, blankets, flashlights, first-aid kits, and extra change in my car, built me fires when I said I wanted to have a get-together in the woods with my friends, and always made sure I was over-packed for any over-night trip I've ever gone on.  I think it has really changed my outlook on what I look for in a man, because even though I don't particularly like macho-men, I definitely appreciate a guy who can change a car tire or build me a fire from scratch these days.   I only wish my dad hadn't been so over-protective when it came to playing with sparklers because I had my second run-in with them the other night, with no supervision.  I am pretty sure I already mentioned the first night I was doing bottle service and had to use a sparkler un-supervised for the first time in my life and I didn't know how to put it out and started jamming it in the bucket of ice on the table as the flame rose higher and higher.... that was REAL humiliating.  Well, I finally know that they burn out on their own, but the other night at work, I had to do bottle service and bring up some bottles on stage for Reverend Run's son, Diggie.  It was a real shitshow; the promoter wanted a big production so I went up on stage carrying sparklers and a bottle with two of the other girls I was working with.  Let me tell you; three sparklers in one hand is a TERRIBLE idea.  I didn't get severely injured, but I burnt the skin between my thumb and index finger and it felt raw and ache-y for the rest of the night.  I then read the label on the sparkler's packaging and thought it was pretty ironic:

Now, in case you can't make out the writing, it says "For OUTDOOR use only; stick base firmly in ground in upright position.  DO NOT HOLD IN HAND.  Light tip and GET AWAY." I guess holding three sparklers in one hand isn't exactly proper protocol.  My dad would have thrown a shit fit if he'd seen that. 

I'm starting to wonder if I will ever have a discretionary income again.  I miss shopping and being able to go out with no worries, or the days of yore when buying myself a nice, new frock didn't come accompanied with feelings of regret like, "oh shit, I should have spent that $60 on groceries." Now, my only form of self-indulgence is painting my nails or if I'm feeling really frivolous, I might slap on some good ol' self tanner to lift my spirits.  Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?  I really hope things start to look up soon... Hustler Club is starting to sound like a realllly good option.  I'm really glad that I didn't get cable when I first moved here because having another bill on top of student loans and rent would just be terrible news right about now.  When I can finally afford cable, I'm going to throw a huge, white-trashed theme party for everyone I know to come watch some trashy reality shows at my apartment while I serve up PBR and potato chips. And I'm going where the trashiest romper ever.  I got this lil' baby from Nastygal.com for my bday, and naturally didn't end up wearing it out because well, let's face it- I spent my bday upstate and this type of number doesn't really fly at the local bar or even the nearest local college town.  Such a shame....

Yeah, pretty sure this back side wouldn't fly anywhere.... maybe in a cage at a gay bar.  Why do I buy things I can't even wear out?  I wish I could just live in a world where it was ok to where sexy clothes without the fear of sexual assault or people assuming I was a slut.