Audacious High Wire Artist

This is a post I wrote nearly a year ago and somehow never published.  It's still funny enough to share; hope you enjoy the Friday funny. 

After a long night in the restaurant...its so good to be home.  My job is a multitude of corporate requirements coupled with the precarious balancing act of the demands of those from every walk of life and has the ability to shift from moment to moment and can include: balancing of the demands on my time, fulfilling needs immediately such as drinks, straws, food, extra napkins, bread, more bread, lightly toasted bread, etc and making it all look like a breeze because lets face it, who wants a grumpy server?

Tonight was a high wire act of epic proportions.  First lets start with the fact that the world runs on computers.  We love this, right?

Most of the time.

Mostly.  When it works. 

The computer system decided to take an extended break at the beginning of the dinner rush which resulted in everything being hand written, conveyed to the kitchen with scraps of paper, drawings of food, made up sign language, broken Spanish and breaking out into a light sweat to get a plate of dumplings in less than 25 minutes. 

This carried on for over an hour.  It also made it interesting when people wanted to pay their bill and all servers take out their phones (which, paradoxically, we are not allowed to have while working on the dining room floor) attempting to calculate totals and sales tax.  (Umm, what is the tax here anyway?  Will I be prosecuted if I inadvertently overcharged using my best educated guess?)

Next up, in keeping the night interesting, a child gets abducted from the mall across the street.  Full Amber alert ensues, we know its a black Honda Civic with New York license plates.  Fallout from this?  No one wants to sit near the front door as though, somehow, the abductor will appear and take another child.  I do not mean to minimize this in any way; this is a very serious event and calls for immediate action on the part of the authorities and hyper-vigilance on the part of parents.  Refusing to sit near to revolving door that acts as our front door seems to be out of proportion. 

Because these things seem to happen in three's, the dishwasher broke as I was finishing my shift.  I mean the machine, not the person.  I will do you the favor and spare you the details of what happens in the dish pit of a restaurant.  Its enough to know, its just putrid. 

At the end of each shift there is sidework with entails numerous large items being put through the dishwasher in order to sanitize a certain area of the restaurant.  The  collection of albatrosses had to be sanitized by hand with a combination of Dawn and bleach.  My skin still feels like it may fall off.  Yes, I wore gloves.

In true server style, home, showered and changed, my Chinese delivery has arrived. 

Finally, happiness.

A-Z Meme

I've seen this floating around most recently at Sizzle Says and One N Jen.  Since I can't seem to find the words to express what I really want to write about, A-Z provides good distraction and reminds me of when I first started blogging and we all did silly memes from time to time.

A. Age: 35 (but only for a few more days!)

B. Bed size: Queen, but with two little dogs who are convinced they are Mastiffs, it never seems big enough

C. Chore that you hate: Dishes. Dishes by hand more accurately.   With a dishwasher, and I don't mean ME as the dishwasher, easy stuff.  Washing all the dishes by hand?  HATE!

D. Dogs: Two.  Morgan, 5, and Spencer, 12, both affectionately referred to as the miniature terrorists.

E. Essential start to your day: Coffee.  Don't try to convince me about "its a horrible habit" or any other nonsense, just let me have my coffee and if you are the one making my coffee, by all means, GET IT RIGHT.

F. Favorite color: Favorite colors to wear black, grey and navy.  Favorite colors otherwise, taupe, lavender and periwinkle.

G. Gold or Silver: Silver.  Silver or Platinum.

H. Height: 5’3” (that's what it says on my license anyway)

I. Instruments you play: Piano.  A very recent student, I'm not super great, but I love to play.

J. Job title: Household manager, professional organizer, keeper of all things, writer, entertainer, listener, dog wrangler, patience giver and orchestrator of lessons in how to maintain sanity.

K. Kids: Just the furkids, Morgan and Spencer.

L. Live: Seattle, WA.

M. Mother’s name: Sharon

N. Nicknames: V, Miss V

O. Overnight hospital stays:  Too many to count. Elementary school when I had mono, landing at the bottom of a staircase unconscious, being hit by a car.  Let's just call it enough for this lifetime.

P. Pet peeves: Disrespect-especially on obvious things, arrogance, ignorance, deception, self centeredness.

Q. Quote from a movie: "If you don't like it, leave.  There are exits on every floor."  (I don't remember the name of the movie)


R. Right- or left-handed: Right

S. Siblings: One brother.

U. Underwear:  Yes.  Some super sexy, some utilitarian.

V. Vegetable(s) you hate: Artichoke.

W. What makes you run late: The Internet.  Every. Single. Time.

X. X-Rays you’ve had: Wrist, multiples on my ankle, ribs, pelvis, head (except I think they call the head a CT?)

Y. Yummy food that you make:  Alla Vodka sauce, bread from scratch, butternut squash pesto, risotto, chicken marsala, pumpkin bars, oatmeal cookies, fajitas, lasagna, spinach sundried tomato orzo salad...too many good ones to list.

Z. Zoo animal: PENGUINS!  I adore penguins!

Secrets

Ever the fan of non-traditional Valentine's Day or QuirkyAlone Day (otherwise known as anti-compulsory dating day) celebrations, this year, I chose to attend the Post Secret event with a good friend.  Hearing Frank Warren speak, sharing his own personal history and the secrets that have been shared with him over the years caused me to think about my own secrets. 

Like Frank said, "There are two kinds of secrets: those we keep from others, and the ones we hide from ourselves."

I pondered which kind of secrets would form a lengthier column if I were to analyze, write them down, measure them and give them a life of their own on a sheet of paper.  Some of these secrets I consciously acknowledge and have made into intricate postcards, mailing them to PostSecret in an effort to somehow purge them, yet retain them as my truth at the same time.  Some of my secrets, I have recently reached the realization, I am too afraid to face myself.  I know they are there, lurking in the depths of my brain.  Yet, I turn my thoughts to other things when they creep in to my consciousness.  Maybe they are more fears than secrets?  I’m not sure. 

What I do know is the fabric of my life has been woven rich and deep, filled with experiences and moments that take my breath away when I reflect on how lucky I've been and the spectrum of experiences that have filled my days.  The friends that reach out to me, the amazing connections I've formed, people I adore but have yet to meet in person; my life list has been running long and far and way before the movie, TheBucket List, ever saw the big screen.

Yet there are things I'm still working on, still polishing, waiting for the proper amount of growth, things I’m nurturing and finding energy to put in effort to bring to fruition or trying to find peace within myself.  Those are the secrets I am finding my own personal comfort level with and learning to love, because those secrets also contribute to who I am today.   The triumphs and trials I've endured all define who I am and I’m fortunate to call this incredible “life” my own.

Have you ever sent a secret to PostSecret? 

Jaywalking

Overheard, as I'm standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change:

Officer to Pedestrian:  Hey, you're not going to jaywalk are you?  That's illegal you know!

Pedestrian to Officer:  Actually, I was.  Thanks for stopping me; I didn't see you there.

Officer to Pedestrian:  But I could have given you a ticket!  $80 bucks!

Pedestrian to Officer:  I know, but you stopped me and I'm right here on the curb where you CAN'T give me a ticket!

Officer storms off.

*photo credit to edualarcon

My Oh My! Look Who Turned Five!

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

This Takes Talent!

Perfectly straddled on the median (which is wider than the grass you are seeing), stopped just before the bridge, abandoned, lights on and running. 

Waves on West Seattle