Worst Garage Sale Ever!

Oh, my goodness. Okay, so we woke up at about 6:00am and started putting things out and cleaning things off. By about 7:00am, we had a few early birds. You know, you specifically put in your ad, in bold type, "No early birds". But people don't listen. They think, "everyone except me". But that was the least of our problems.

One of our neighbors came to check out our stuff and introduce herself. She lives on the corner, and we talked about how this town is stupid because they won't allow you to put up signs to advertise your sale unless it's on your property. Then she left, and for two hours nothing happened. No one came. Finally, Dad and I decided to put a sign on a box and sit it on the corner of the road with two big rocks in it. As we walked to the corner, we saw a whole bunch of cars at our neighbor's house, and she had stuff in her driveway! She was having a garage sale, too, but she never put an ad in the paper. She was sponging off of our ad! People saw the name of our street in the ad, and when they got to the corner they'd go to her sale and never even see ours! That slimey bitch...

So, I took action. I gunned it to the party supply store to buy balloons and crap. If we didn't have the prime location, then we would compensate with flashy decorations. Fortunately, I know my audience. In a mostly conservative, Republican town, what colors would be the most effective? Red, white and blue! I bought a dozen balloons, bunting, flags and streamers and stuck them all over the front of our yard and our cars. Sure enough, the people started coming. And some of them actually bought stuff, too.

We just barely made a profit, but we decided to look at this as a "rehearsal" garage sale to get a feel for the area. Because if we look at it as an actual garage sale, it was pitiful. Besides the cheating, no-good, under-handed neighbors, Mom fell down in the hallway as she was trying to grab something from another room. She tripped on a chair and gave herself a beautiful black eye. I'm just happy I took out the sharp wooden storage box we had in the hallway from the spot before her head landed there. I think this made her realize that we need to get rid of most of this stuff-- it's not only depressing to have no space, it's dangerous. Besides that, I got sunburnt, and the cats crapped all over the living room to show us their disgust at being left alone while we were right outside for seven hours. So, yeah. Not the greatest sale, ever, by any means.

At least there's June...

Pictures of Kitties and Sand

So guess who's computer can finally get online? Mine! As promised, here are the pictures of kitties and sand. To your left, the first picture is of Lucky. Who knew an A-Cup was the perfect fit for a cat's head? And can you blame him for wanting to use it as a pillow? It is padded, after all.
The next photo is of Lucy and Lucky, the constant cuddlers. They are the first cats of the household, and thus best buds.
The third picture is of Tiger, looking as paranoid as ever. She has claimed me as her pet human.
Fourth picture is of a lovely tree in our yard. That house actually belongs to a neighbor. You can just barely see sand beneath all of those weeds.
Much has happened in the time between posts, but I can't go through it all, now, as I am very sleepy. So, good night.
Before I go, a quick plug: to the right are my links to interesting sites. One of the sites is devoted to a band called Downtown Harvest. Their music is really fun and very good. Recently, they released an album, and if you click on the link, you can listen to it and buy it for $10.95. I reccommend buying it for yourself, then for friends, family and anyone else who needs to hear about being in Bob's Disco House ("B.O.B"). Night night!


 

My jeans are falling apart!

Well, my mom ordered a router and adapter, so I may have my computer up and running by this next week. So you know what that means: pictures of cats and sand!

So much sand...

It's been cloudy, quite often, as it has been in all of southern California. And it's been super windy here, too. But it's almost always super windy, here. And it simply isn't warm, yet. I wish I'd get hired somewhere, so I could make some money and by some amazing clothing, already. I finally got my security deposit, and it was about $200 less than I was expecting. Oh well, another thing to remind me of why I left L.A. (never enough money)

I dropped out of the play. I did this for several reasons. First off, I couldn't stand the play. Second, they wanted me to memorize many, many lines, and I know that I'm simply not ready for a role that large in such a short amount of time. Third, the owner of the restaurant flat out told me he needed me to wait tables for him on Wednesday, and then asked me if I could do it. Maybe it doesn't read as shifty as it sounded, but I hadn't filled out a W-2 with him, and my gut was telling me that this wouldn't be the only time something like this would happen. I could just picture, three months down the road, working for practically no money at the owner's beck and call and memorizing badly-written plays that I really didn't want imprinted on my brain. It struck me that that is not why I came out here. I took a different direction so that I could do what I wanted to do, not more of what other people wanted me to do (while I realize compromises need to be made sometimes, my goal is not to be a big pushover, anymore). So I'm demanding a better situation for myself. Even if it takes a while (because it's certainly taking longer than I expected it to-- I thought I'd be working by now), it's okay, because I'm in a situation where I have to worry as much.

Speaking of getting a job, that one restaurant I went to that said they'd probably hire me-- uh-- hasn't called, yet. I'm still confident they'll call me, because they said they were retrofitting their computers in a few weeks, and that's when they'd start training people. But still, if they haven't called by this weekend, I'm going to call them. And then, maybe (ugh!) I'll look for a job, again.

So that's what's happening over here. Don't forget, dear readers, to set your clocks forward on Saturday night.

It's not the house so much as the lifestyle...

Well, my computer's still not set up, so no pictures, yet. Don't fret, it'll happen. Because I know you're all just dying to see more pictures of the cats. And sand. So much sand...

Things are still moving slowly, here. But, you know, I think maybe that's just the way things work, here. It's nice, sometimes, but also really frustrating. Last week I did nothing but job hunt. It felt extremely unproductive. My first thought, naturally, was to look for a job as a waitress, since I have the most experience doing that. But since there are only so many nice restaurants out here, pretty much none of them are hiring. One nice one has had an ad in the paper for about three weeks. I actually applied twice over there (once with one manager, and once with another), and I haven't heard anything. I even went down the hill to Rancho Cucamonga, and everyone was extremely snotty. You know what I can't stand? I go to all the trouble to make a really nice resume and reference sheet, and no one wants one. Everywhere I went, the hostess would only accept an application, which usually asked for less information than I provided on my resume. My favorite part was when they told me when they accepted the applications, and I was still about an hour or so within the time limit for the day.

Then on Friday, my dad called me up and said their was an ad in the paper (because he takes it with him) for auditions for a mystery dinner theatre. I went to check it out, and I got a part. The owner gave my a copy of the show on DVD, so I could get an idea of what it's like. Here's my idea: it's horrible. Oh, my goodness, it's sooooo bad. It's about these hillbillies who are being hounded by an IRS agent who gets killed, and the dad is sexually abusing the daughter, but it's supposed to be funny because they're hillbillies, and all this crap. The writing is terrible. There is no back story. You just discover things as the show goes along (while that may sound appropriate for a mystery show, it's still lame). The cast is all right, but their morale is low, because it's such a lousy show and less people are seeing it. But it pays a dollar a head and I have no money, so let's put on a show!

I find it ironic that, while in L.A., I couldn't land an acting job to save my life, but I could get normal jobs pretty easy. But when I move back home, I can't find a normal job, but land an acting gig, right away.

I went to a rehearsal on Saturday, and only two people showed up on time besides me. Everyone else showed up an hour and a half, later. When the show went on, that night, I got to be a hostess.

Today is rehearsal, and they would like me to learn the lines for the detective and be show-ready by Friday. Now, I don't mean to be whiney, but the detective has 70% of the show's lines. It's been about six years since I've had to memorize a role with that many lines, and I don't know if I can pull that off in time.

Wait, it gets better.

Yesterday, I got a call from a nice restaurant that is only about a five-minute drive for me. I went in for an interview, filled out an application, and was told I'll more than likely be hired in a few days. This is great news, but now I may not be able to do the dinner theatre. That also wouldn't be so bad, but I haven't been in anything for about six years, like I said ( I don't count extra work as acting).

Well, we'll see what happens. Meanwhile, I'm taking a break from the job hunt, today, and I'm going to learn some lines.

Here I am! Or... Welcome to the House of Confusion

This is just an update to let you all know that I have officially moved and I am fine. My computer's still not set up, yet, so there will be no photos in this update.
Time has just been going so slowly since I arrived. It is just so incredibly messy in this house, I often don't know where to begin. The garage is completely full, from ceiling to floor, with boxes and furniture that won't fit in the house. The biggest gripe I have is many of the boxes are actually empty, and my parents don't want me to throw them away.
About two or three years ago, my parents moved out of a huge 4BR/3BA house with a 3-car garage and a storage shed in the backyard, and into a 3BR/2BA house with a 2-car garage and practically no closet space. Dad doesn't want to throw anything away and Mom has all of these clothes. Most of the clothes still have tags on them and some are two or three sizes too small, for when she loses weight. Needless to say, nothing has really changed since they've lived out here. Sometimes they'll make a little progress and sort some things or move a mess of stuff from one room to another, but they won't actually get rid of anything. It's a very depressing situation, or as I like to call it (but not actually to them) "The House of Confusion".
Well, we are going to have a yard sale in April, even if it's a crappy one. Mom wants to have one big one, with lots of organization and advertising. But she won't actually do anything about it. Dad just wants to set some stuff out on the driveway with the hope that shoppers with garage sales running through their veins will be able to sniff us out. But neither has actually happened. Now we do things my way.
Last week I bought a storage unit (because I couldn't get to anything in the garage. I got tired just looking at it). Each day I take anywhere from 5 to 15 boxes over. Before I take them over, I open them, write down on a pad of paper what's in the box next to a number, close the boxes, and slap numbers onto them. Once I have labled as many boxes as I can (and my storage unit is filled), I will schedule a yard sale (find out what's legal in the city, ads, blah blah crap). When we have the sale in April, we will look at the list, decide what we want to sell this sale, and put it in the driveway. What doesn't sell gets donated at the end of the sale. Then we will have another one in June or July, and a final one in September.
Then we can have fun? Maybe. Then we focus on making the house liveable. You know I can't plug anything into the outlets in my room because they're falling apart or have paint in the holes? And I know I mentioned the lack of closet space. And the windows... don't even get me started on the windows. The fact that I'm covered in cat fur no matter what I do pales in comparison to how I feel about the windows. No, I'm thinking 2006 might not be a very fun year for me. I could be wrong. We'll see.
What I do know is I need a job. My old apartment isn't exactly being prompt with my security deposit, and my previous fundage is running low. I need to get a job where I make about $1200/mo and only work about 3-5 days a week, because I have a second job here at the HoC. And really, it's hard for me to get anything else done when I'm working 6 days a week.
So, that's how it is, right now. I still don't know when my computer will be up and running, but I'm sure it will be... by the summer.
Maybe.
It's confusing, here.

Final L.A. Post (for now...)

Well, I'm 99% packed. I ran out of boxes, but all the stuff that needs to be in boxes are in boxes. I'm pulling out the trash bags, next.
I'm in a much better temperament this move than I was my last move. Of course, I haven't actually moved, yet. But at least this time, I labeled my boxes, specifically, instead of writing "RANDOM CRAP" on each one with magic marker.
Right now, I have a fierce case of the hiccups. I've had them for about a half hour, now. They'll go away at some point, but I'll get them again within the next 24 hours. I always do.
Okay, well, I guess this is it, for a few days, anyway. I'm not sure when I'll post, again. I guess there's no phone jack in my room, yet. But as soon as I have one installed, I'll let you all know what it's like in beautiful, slightly North-Eastern, Southern California.
TTFN! 

My little going-away party.

Today was my going-away party, thrown by my fellow servers from the Scottish Place. Well, there was one manager there, but she used to be a server so it counts. My party was held in the afternoon at the Disney Soda Fountain/Gift Shop, which everyone felt was appropriate. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a chocolate phosphate (as shown, left), and for dessert I had a Black and White Sundae. It was delicious! I recieved a card signed by everyone from the Scottish Place and $200! That just blew me away, it was so very nice of everyone. As the first wave of people started to leave, several more people showed up. One brought her daughter and her grand-twins, who were just adorable. They're going through their drooling phase, and I learned I'm not too keen about that. But they were still cute. After the second wave was finished eating, we headed our separate ways.
I would just like to thank everyone who showed up, and to those who didn't but still wished me well.
The photo below features the first wave of guests, including Mickey. I don't have pseudonyms for you all, so I'll use initials.
Featured are M.R. (who is showing off her "I ate the whole thing" pin that she got for finishing her sundae), V.B., A.S., Me, S.B. and D.R.
Those not shown but who I'd also like to thank are S.R., D.R., s.r. & s.r. (twins), Y.M. and V.D.

No more brunch for me! Hooray!

Today was my last brunch. It truly was a wonderful thing. Brunch was the bane of my existance, and I no longer have to deal with it (until I get a job somewhere else that serves brunch).
Here are the reasons I loved brunch:
1. All the blueberry muffins I could eat.
2. Getting to vent with my fellow coworkers about my (evil) guests.

Now, here are the reasons I hated brunch:
1. Free champagne. Oh my goodness. Okay, these people that come in actually expect me to pour them champagne during every minute of my shift. Calm down people, it's free. It's not like you have to worry about getting your money's worth.
2. The stress. It doesn't matter what time you come in, you will be sat before your shift actually begins. One brunch, I was told that I'd been sat a table as I was walking into the restaurant. And if you have plans right after your shift, forget them. I had an audition about an hour after brunch ended, once, and had to miss it, because I was still working.
3. The free champagne. There is never an open bottle when you need one. And if there is, it's empty. I'll say this: if it weren't for brunch, I wouldn't know how to open a bottle of champagne. My first few brunches, I had so many plastic corks popping out of bottles and riqochetting off of walls. Luckily, no one was hurt.
4. The evil guests. Okay, I must stress this: 90% of the guests at brunch are actually nice people. They're just there with friends and family, maybe after church, out to make the most of their Sunday. But there is that 10% of people who are simply miserable and angry about life, in general, and actually want to piss you off. These people should not eat out. In fact, they should not even leave their homes until they can find their happy place. But society doesn't work that way, and so the angry people are allowed to go out. Most of them like to go to the Scottish Place for Sunday brunch. They usually yell at the server. They yell and yell and yell, and when I don't give them anything free (because let's face it, they don't deserve it), my tip becomes very tiny (unless her husband is paying, and then my tip is really big). I could be wrong, but I think most of these people are evil because of... (say it with me...)
5. The free champagne. I swear, I had this lady who stopped short of slapping me because I told her we had no more champagne. The fact that brunch had been over for an hour and a half did not matter to her. The fact that dinner was now starting did not matter to her, either. Some times, you just need to stop and think if you're fighting over something that actually matters in the over-all scheme of things.

So, seeing as how the cons clearly out-weigh the pros, I am very happy that today was my last brunch.

Ta-daaaa!!! Blonde Pretty!

Well, I did it. I went to a salon in West Hollywood, sat in the stylist's chair and, three hours later, I'm a blonde!
I was just going to leave my hair be, but the more I looked at it, the more I realized that carrot orange was just not my hue.
It definitely cost more than I expected, but I like it.
I can't wait to see what it's going to look like in a few days, when my natural wave kicks in.
Thus ends (or begins, depending on up-keep) the saga of my hair.
Thank you for reading. 

What the...?

As you can see, my hair does not match the color on the box. It's not even close. The box even says "designed for dark hair". It also says "Rich color with no unwanted brassiness or unnatural tones". It goes on to say "100% Gray coverage". Well, dear readers, I put this stuff all over my hair, and I still have one gray hair showing. So it's only 99.9% gray coverage, approximately.

Oh yeah, I am totally showing the brand name.

The instructions told me to leave it on my hair for 25 minutes. And I did. Clairol sucks major butt.

While this color doesn't look that bad on me, it's not what I wanted. I am so going to the salon... at some point. We'll see how it looks, tomorrow.