ARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!

The restaurant I work at sits on a river. In my dream last night, however, this became an ocean (or at least a bay). And from that larger body of water, we were the victims of frequent pirate raids. I'd had enough, so I started trying to assemble a team of coworkers to counter-attack the pirates on their own turf, in a somewhat-secret cove. That was the basic plot of my dream.

It was quite intricate though. I was going through a list of people in my head who would join me in my efforts. It was all guys (I guess I didn't feel right taking women into battle), and they were all front-of-the-house employees (which is strangely normal for me; I see the back-house guys as coworkers, and I have no beefs with any of 'em, but my front-house coworkers I see as more "commrades-in-arms." They're the ones I always think of for a party, or birthdays, or whatever). Anyway, I was thinking "Chad could fight... Bo... Thomas..." and I came up with five people besides myself who might join in my raid, but I needed intel on how many pirates there were. That was problem number 1, 'cause we could each handle 5-6 pirates at once, but if there were more than that, we might have a problem (I don't know why we were such great fighters, but it was implied that our style was kung-fu). So I planned on this event being a few months down the road so the proper info could be gathered. (Plus, we needed the time for me to take a trip to China so we could get high-quality combat-steel swords really cheap.)

Also, the timing was important. When should we attack? If this was a couple months down the road, it couldn't be after work, 'cause we'd be in full summer-swing and we'd all be too tired to fight after work. So I decided we'd have to request to work only a day shift on a Friday, and use the evening-time to attack. This way we'd still have plenty of energy to fight because we'd be used to working an additional five hours anyway.

There was a crusty old guy working with us too, whose advice I was asking as far as where the cove was, how we should attack, etc. But the funny thing is, there was no record of him ever being an employee. Even the bookkeeper showed no evidence of ever having cut him a check. But everyone remembered him working there when they started, so no one doubted that he was a real employee. No one, except me, when upon asking his advice he would ramble incoherently about something totally off-topic. He was a pirate spy!

Although the attack never happened in my dream, the plan was worked out to the details. We couldn't canoe all the way into the cove, 'cause the oars might make noise and give away our presence while we were still all clumped together- an easy target. So we would canoe in just far enough so that we could swim easily, and we'd be in a line, attached by a long length of rope between each of us. Everyone would start to move when the line in front of them was pulled taught, and when the line went limp, they knew a) how far they were from landing at the battle and b) that the person in front of them had joined the fray. We had to attack in waves. The distance between each of us was the same, so that just when the pirates thought they had the attack handled and the one (or more) of us was about to be overwhelmed, here comes the next reinforcement.



So, needless to say, it was an odd dream. I think it was partially fueled by the pirate/ninja rivalry depicted in the comics at: http://drmcninja.com/index.html (in the current storyline). And even the old pirate spy I can see coming from Dr. McNinja too (if you read the current storyline, you can kind of make the connection). For those of you who know me, you are aware that I typically daydream myself to sleep, and last night was a duel with me as a speed-enhanced chinese martial arts master fighting against an organized-crime-hired equally-speed-enhanced japanese martial arts master. So I can see how that lended itself to kung-fu fighting in my dream. What I want to know is, how in the FUCK did the ninja from my daydream end up in my friend/coworker's dream, as depicted below? ... strange things are afoot at the Circle K...

"So Im at a friends house with a few friends and apparently he has a sub mom (much like a sub teacher) and shes teaching us some random crap, I don't remember and then the place turns in to a daycare. A bunch of kids come in and start tearing up the place. We walk outside and it seems we've just come out of Circut City so they sit down on the curb and make a line to wait for the PS3 to launch. After a few min some Zombies come and try to get us. One of my friends is eaten. Pity. Then we decide "hey, we're hungry, lets get some food"...so I say "Ok I need to get gas first" so I take my car to the nearest station. Upon arrival some lady starts hitting on me so I drive up to the next pump where theres this old asian dude. Then out of nowhere this crazy ninja comes out and they start to fight. The ninja kills the old dude and then I realize Ive been watching this fight through a security camera and Im working at a Burger King. Then I wake up because I just can't take working at a BK, that is just too scary. "

Mourning

I attended a funeral service for a cowork of mine from the bank yesterday. She was in her early fifties, I think. Smoked and drank daily and had a stroke. I have a sense of admiration for her, because she lived her life the way she wanted right up to the end.

The church was packed. So was the hall where they had video feeds. So was the walkway outside. Now, the church and the hall weren't all that large, but still... I'd say there were at least 150 people there. I can't imagine having so many friends and family... I think that must have made her happy.

I'm not much for crying; it's not that I think it's unmanly or anything. It's just that at this stage of my life, I don't see much reason for it. Rather than cry over a loss, or a pain, I try to be grateful and appreciative of the life, or the experience. Nevertheless, when her kids came out of church, I couldn't help but tear up a little bit. They're 19, 17, and 13 I think. 13 and having to attend your mother's funeral... who wouldn't cry at that thought?

She wasn't the hardest-working coworker I've ever had, but she was by far among the most fun-loving. I firmly believe that she's in heaven. She brought so much happiness to so many people in her life, I can't fathom that she hasn't earned her own. RIP Carol; you'll be missed.

The truth behind "Waiting..."

"You see, I don't work within the exact boundaries of the law, because I wasn't consulted when the goddamn laws were made. No, instead, nameless, faceless politicians, the so-called protectors of the moral majority decide what is right and what is wrong. I mean, come on! I govern my life around my own personal code of ethics, and I suggest you do the same. That way if, within the constructs of my own morality, I were to do something that was considered illegal, so be it. I feel no guilt whatsoever. And furthermore, if I were to buckle under the social weight of the system by adhering to laws that I do not truly believe in, then I would be extinguishing the very fire of patriotism and individuality. It's- It's so- -phew.- In a sense, by having sex with Natasha, I'd be preserving the rights our forefathers fought and died for, right?"

"Well, I guess-"

"Bro? Um, it was a rhetorical question."

(PS: I've updated my blog so that non-blogger readers can comment again; you just have to type the letters that show up on the screen which is supposed to cut down on spammers.)

The proof is in the pudding...

and it's all over my face. (My coworkers will appreciate the innanity of that intro.) What is it that always makes us dismiss what our parents say? Even when we're older and, theoretically, wiser? My dad constantly (obnoxiously) spoke of the necessity of frequent hand washing. It didn't matter what we were doing before dinner (peeing, playing video games, sleeping, hell- even showering) we always got the "Did you wash your hands?" And I always dismissed it with a grain of salt; I mean, I think I wanted to believe that my body could handle any germs or whatnot that came from a videogame controller (I do wash after peeing, so :-P ).

But I'm sick again, and every time I get sick, the fucker lasts for a week or more. And this time in particular I've come to the decision that the main reason I get sick so much is because I don't eat enough fruits or veggies; and I do think that's partially the case. But I was talking to a regular customer of mine last night about how I don't like going to the doctors if I can help it (I don't want my body to develope a tolerance of antibiotics in case I ever really need them one day), and she said she was the same way. "Yeah, I'm the same way. I just drink a lot of juices and rest and wash my hands a lot." And for some reason, coming from her, that made a lot more sense. And it's not that I don't respect my father (although I'd lie if I said my former childlike perfect view of him hadn't become slightly more realistic), but I still think he's a great man and I hope I wind up at least somewhat like him. But, in any event, for whatever reason the whole hand-washing thing made more sense coming from my customer than it ever had coming from my dad. So I figure that I'll spend the next few months trying to pound apples and oranges and spinach and other healthy things and washing my hands nigh-obsessively and see if I still get sick. Maybe I just have a weak immune system. Who knows? But whatever it is, I hate it.

Britney's been replaced

For those of you who have known me for a while, I used to have a mild fanatical obsession with Britney Spears. I think it had more or less ceased by the time I started this blog. I just lost respect for the gal. In spears-time, I started losing interest with that whole overnight marriage thing, and I finished losing interest with that whole "I'm going to marry a douchebag loser" thing. But before those two moments, I was all about britney. I had the CDs (a fact that I'm somewhat embarrased to admit, but you know what, I still think her songs are okay). I had a couple posters. I never sent her a birthday card or went to a concert or anything too stalkerish, but although my top-5 (sometimes top-10) list always changed, she remained a constant at the top. Until, you know, she went crazy.

I accepted applications for the position for some time (metaphorically speaking, of course). There were lots of possible candidates, but they each had something that regulated them to a not-first position. Angelina Jolie? Smoking hot and sexy, but if Britney got the boot for being crazy, it wouldn't be fair to give the spot to another psycho. (A vial of blood around the neck? That's kind of hot, but mostly just scary.) Natalie Portman? Beautiful girl, seemingly down to earth and unglamorous, but I think that's what hurt her. My number one celebrity dream chick should be glamorous, I think. Isla Fisher (the redhead from Wedding Crashers)? Everyone knows I have a weakness for redheads, and this gal has the potential for number one, but firstly, I don't think she's a natural redhead (not a deterant in-and-of itself, but I don't think she typically has red hair), and secondly, she doesn't seem to get that much exposure. I'd never heard of her before Wedding Crashers, and even after looking her up, I can't even tell you what else she's done. These are some of the top candidates, but none of them seem suitable.

Well, I think I've finally found Britney's replacement: Vanessa Lengies. Now, like Isla, I hadn't heard of Vanessa until "Waiting..." came out; she played the not-quite-18 hostess. (She's 20-some in real life; I'm not that creepy.) But, upon further research, she's been in quite a few things; just not things I've seen. She apparently had a relatively regular role in the show "American Dreams." She seemed to co-star with Hillary Duff in "The Perfect Man." Other stuff too, like TV shows and a voice-overs in Arthur movies and stuff; but in those things, she's a tad too young for me to take an interest. But the point is that she has been around for a while, and with two more movies in the works (including a gymnastics one; me-OW!) it looks like she'll be around for a while too. On top of all that, a lot of the pics I found of her have her acting goofy (kinda like the way Britney used to; sticking her tongue out and laughing and stuff). So she seems to have a fun-loving, comical approach to life too.

The only thing that scares me is the look. Before you say "wtf? She's hot! And isn't that why she's on your list?", yes, she is hot. And that is why she's on my list. But I've been burned (or burned myself, depending on your point of view... probably the latter) by no less than two italian chicks in the past, and so I have a hard time accepting her as the top. Not to punish her for my past; I just don't want to be hurt again. (For those of you who don't know me all that well, that last sentence is a joke. I'm not in the least bit concerned about my celebrities hurting my feelings. What are they going to do? Go on Leno and say "Oh, and Chris is a douche and I fucking hate him." ... okay, so that's happened twice... but I don't think it will happen again, 'cause I've stopped killing puppies as a means of showing affection.)

So, yeah. Vanessa Lengies is being given the position for a probationary period. We'll give her 90 days; see how she fits in with the rest of the staff. (No pun intended.) And, you know, if everything is going well, we'll see about getting her the spot on a permanent basis.

No Cheese

You know, I'm starting to feel like this blog is just becoming some sort of whiny sounding-board for me. I don't mean it to be; actually, I guess it isn't; I'm just cranky at the moment, so my outlook is all pessimistic-like.

In brief, I have had the worst weekend at work (fuck just a day) that I can remember in a looooong time. I've been berated multiple times each day by multiple customers for multiple petty reasons; multiple enough that I don't feel like going into them, partially because my brain is trying to forget them, but one fucker in particular stands out for asking me for bread TWICE before everyone at the table had even finished placing their drink order. But, on top of all that BS, my grandmother has been staying here this weekend, which means I've been ousted from my room and have been sleeping on the basement sofa/floor. I say "sofa/floor" because it's more accurate to say I've "attempted" to sleep, and I atttempted to use both the sofa or just the floor, each with minimal success. So I've had a shitty weekend on no sleep, and I want nothing more than to go to bed right now, but I can't because my grandmother's staying tonight as well, and, of course, everyone is in the basement obsessing over the Stupidbowl. (To boot, they've been so good as to light the fireplace, which means the basement will be 90 degrees when I try to go to sleep (too hot for any kind of blanket coverage) but 40% by the morning (which means I have to stumble around in the dark without my glasses to try to remember where I put a blanket before I went to sleep). I don't know what else to write, but "-sigh-." And that fels lame. So I'm just going to sign off and probably go try to sleep in the living room.