It's been several weeks into my garden planting, and the dirt still resembles construction debris more than top soil : ( The ground is very clay-y so I've been trying to work some potting soil into it but both the clay and soil need to be crumbled in order to mix them before I can plant seeds (subsequently sending them to a premature death). So what have I been doing for two days? You guessed it. Crumbling 72 cubic feet of dirt with my bare hands. Though surely there's an easier way to do this, but as of yet, I have not found it. So as things stand, it's been several weeks since I've started my "gardening" and I'm still just playing with the dirt, my palms however are incredibly soft, buffed even!
I have been reading the care instructions on the seed packets (trying to keep an eye on the bigger picture) and there's some incredibly detailed instructions (asparagus for instance needs to be grown inside for three months and then transplanted twice before I'll finally be able to harvest them THREE YEARS FROM NOW). This all begs the question "how does this shit grow in the wild?!?". But, if they can grow a tree in Brooklyn, surely I can grow some dill.
I've been told that I'm working too much lately and should get out of the store at my appointed time. So what do you suppose could happen on the first day I worked less than 12 hours in the past three weeks? Well, by the end of my day, I had developed a migrane (my first stress induced one ever! woo hoo!) and had to ride my bike home without being able to focus my eyes. Made it home safe and sound. Then I'm in my room minding my own business when I hear small children screaming and carrying on in my house?!? After a few minutes, I decide to go check it out and as it turns out, three small children (about 4 to 6 years old) have overpowered Sol and forced their way into the house and are now running amuck, I found two of them coming up the stairwell as I was going down. Now, I have no problems with kids, but I'd hate for one of them to fall and bust their head open in my living room and then have to explain why there's a bleeding child in my house. So I rangled them up and sent them outside (one of them tried to take Sol's Nixon mask from Halloween) and that was that. Then Maryjo came by and brought us chocolate. Thank You!! and she and all the roommates and I watched American Idol. The last time we were all together like that was when we were watching Jeopardy cause that one guy kept winning. When Maryjo left, I retired to my room and erased about 70 spam comments ranging from Black girls giving head to Embroidered baby blankets.
Stick a fork in me.
Good night
Though I categorically disagree with email spam, my friend Barbara tends to have a keen eye for stuff that will really get me wetting myself laughing. Here's something she sent me this week.
A PRAYER FOR THE STRESSED
GRANT ME THE SERENITY TO ACCEPT THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE,
THE COURAGE TO CHANGE THE THINGS I CANNOT ACCEPT,
AND THE WISDOM TO HIDE THE BODIES OF THOSE PEOPLE I HAD TO
KILL TODAY BECAUSE THEY PISSED ME OFF
AND ALSO,HELP ME BE CAREFUL OF THE TOES I STEP ON TODAY
AS THEY MAYBE CONNECTED TO THE ASS THAT I
MAY HAVE TO KISS TOMORROW
HELP ME ALWAYS GIVE 100% AT WORK........
12% ON MONDAY
23% ON TUESDAY
40% ON WEDNESDAY
20% ON THURSDAY
5% ON FRIDAY
AND HELP ME TO REMEMBER......
WHEN I'M HAVING A REALLY BAD DAY
AND IT SEEMS THAT PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO PISS ME OFF,
THAT IT TAKES 42 MUSCLES TO FROWN AND
ONLY 4 TO EXTEND MY MIDDLE FINGER AND TELL THEM TO BITE ME!
Also, my roommate Gwen found this on Craig's List (I think?) a while ago and though it is a little jaded, it's pretty fucking funny;
Hi there loyal Starbucks customers!! It’s me, your favorite barista. Well, as a longtime Starbucks partner I’ve had many opportunities to observe customer behavior; while I will say that the majority of you are nice and friendly and know what you want before you get to the counter, there are a few of you who apparently have no idea of how to conduct yourselves. For you, I have compiled this list.
1) We have a system at Starbucks, one people paid much more than me have developed and replicated in each one of our 35,000 stores. I know that you are probably a world-famous efficiency engineer and know a dozen different ways we could be doing things better here, but honestly we don’t give a shit. Wait your turn and you will get your drink. Things might go a little faster if you would encourage the people in front of you to talk less and think more.
2) Yes, I have a college degree. No, I’m not happy about using my $120,000 education to serve coffee to dipshits like you, but it pays the bills. One day I hope to say goodbye to all of this and join the real world but until then, would you like a pound of coffee to get you through the weekend?
3) Despite our many cool displays and slick promos, we REALLY don’t like making Frappucinos. We secretly hate you and fantasize about drinking your blood when you order one. In fact, it’s enough to ruin my whole day when I see a pack of giggling, obnoxious teeny-boppers bounce in because I know they will take 10 minutes to decide what they want and then all order Frappucinos. And despite what your friends may tell you, it’s not ok to have one when you’re on a diet – even without the whipped cream. They are made of sugar and fat and various 4-syllable chemical compounds; they’re actually quite disgusting when you know what goes inside them – how does evaporated milk product sound to you? And after I’ve made approximately 900 of them on a Saturday I’m not particularly anxious to mix up a fresh batch for the next day. You should see what frapp mix looks like after it’s sat out for a few days.
4) You may think that you can see everything we are doing behind the bar, but you can’t. Trust me. You heckle at your own risk. If you think we take too long and charge too much, there’s a 7-11 right on the corner that makes coffee too. I bet their half-caf quad grande 6-pump soy 140-degree latte is as good as mine. Asshole.
5) When your drink takes as long to say as it does to make (see above) it’s nice to leave a tip. It’s not our fault you order a six-dollar drink and we work hard. Judging by the car you drive you could afford a little generosity.
6) I am aware that I work for a soulless corporation that puts independent coffee shops out of business. I’m sorry that you don’t like that. Maybe if the über-hip one down the street paid $9 an hour plus benefits I might work there too. What the hell are you doing here anyway? Can’t you get kicked out of your vegan co-op for that?
7) If your toddler suffered from an extreme allergy to dairy that caused him/her to projectile vomit, explosively defecate, break out in hives etc. would you really trust the tattooed, pierced 20-something behind the counter to sterilize everything before steaming your soy milk to blood-temperature? Yeah, I wouldn’t either. Maybe you should consider bringing a bottle. Or tipping occasionally.
8) And finally – don’t feel special that we remember your name/drink. We do that for everyone. And this privilege can be revoked at any time for bad conduct in our store. If you piss me off I will purposefully forget everything about you for as long as it takes to teach you some manners. We control your daily intake of caffeine. Do not fuck with us.
Sincerely,
Your Starbucks barista
Store #7**7
Also, props to the Washington Post (?!?) for their comics page on April Fools day in which three of my favorite strips had the same story line. I consider myself fairly intelligent, but they had me second guessing myself for a minute.