(no subject)
I only just realized how long it's been since I posted anything here, but--hi! I'm still alive although I've been pretty caught up at work lately.
After a bit of bad luck with the vet clinic and other venues, I wound up getting a job at a bookstore cafe. Ironically, now that I've got a solid job, I keep running into people I used to work with who want to hire me. People, where were you a few months ago? That said, I like where I am now. It probably helps that I seem to be surrounded by people with a similarly warped sense of humor.
This past couple of weeks has brought us the failure of some fairly major equipment. The oven, for one, died and could not be ressurected until the next week. Its plight pales in comparison to that of the sink, which decided to cause a flood for days on end. The sink was visited by a repairman at the beginning of the week who diagnosed it "broken" and went to the restaurant across the street to get an early start on his drinking. A crew came back a few days later and puttered around for an hour or so before telling us basically the same thing and arranging to return when they had the parts to actually fix it. They left with an ominous, "I wouldn't try to run the water because it'll explode upwards."
A sizable part of me took this warning as a dare and, for the rest of the day I was tempted--purely in the interests of scientific enquiry you understand--to turn it on in order to find out exactly how far upwards and how large and explosion would ensue. I think, perhaps, this is why one of my coworkers later removed the handle.
--
The bane of my working existence is the single milkshake on the menu where it lurks at the very bottom corner, acting as a sort of mocking footnote. As the only thing on the menu completely recognizable as a blended drink, it comes up as an order far more frequently than entirely necessary and takes far more time to make than is practical.
One day, a row of orders for the offending beverage came at us in the middle of a rush and as I dug into the ice cream I found myself crooning, "Javanilla shake, Javanilla shake, the next time someone orders one I'll kick him in the face." This made S nearly drop the drink she was making as she doubled up with surprised laughter. Unfortunately, at least one of the customers who had placed an order for one was right next to the counter while I was singing and was far, far less amused.
Ever since then, I sing to the ice cream when I make the drink. I have decided to come up with a song for every possible genre of music in homage to it. Next time I'm thinking I'll sing the blues.
--
I suddenly realize that a lot has happened since I last posted. The obvious job change, for one, but other things as well. I'm now, for example, left with only one set of grandparents. After my grandfather's death earlier this year, my grandmother didn't last much longer. Her death surprised no one. My grandparents had been together so long that it was so strange that one of them would be without the other. I like to imagine that they'd arranged a meeting somewhere either in the afterlife they believed in or the next life that others do, but I also like to think that, where ever they are, they are happy.
My sister leaves on Tuesday for South America and I won't see her again for a few years at most. Perhaps, though, there will be some chance to visit her once she has settled in. She is leaving her cat, Neko, with us. How he will adjust remains to be seen. As it is, I find it very comical to watch him run from my blind cat, Stevie, who is only a third of his size and very clearly unafraid of the jaguar noises he makes.
I have not been able to watch much in the way of television lately, but the season finales of both Bones and Supernatural made me very happy.
I have been listening to a few podcast novels and most recently finished How to Disappear Completely which I recommend to anyone who liked Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. How to Disappear Completely has many things in common with Neverwhere--a seperate London, a society of people fallen through the cracks--but it also has a theme that is very definitely its own.
How to Disappear Completely can be found on iTunes or at kilbeysalmon.com
After a bit of bad luck with the vet clinic and other venues, I wound up getting a job at a bookstore cafe. Ironically, now that I've got a solid job, I keep running into people I used to work with who want to hire me. People, where were you a few months ago? That said, I like where I am now. It probably helps that I seem to be surrounded by people with a similarly warped sense of humor.
This past couple of weeks has brought us the failure of some fairly major equipment. The oven, for one, died and could not be ressurected until the next week. Its plight pales in comparison to that of the sink, which decided to cause a flood for days on end. The sink was visited by a repairman at the beginning of the week who diagnosed it "broken" and went to the restaurant across the street to get an early start on his drinking. A crew came back a few days later and puttered around for an hour or so before telling us basically the same thing and arranging to return when they had the parts to actually fix it. They left with an ominous, "I wouldn't try to run the water because it'll explode upwards."
A sizable part of me took this warning as a dare and, for the rest of the day I was tempted--purely in the interests of scientific enquiry you understand--to turn it on in order to find out exactly how far upwards and how large and explosion would ensue. I think, perhaps, this is why one of my coworkers later removed the handle.
--
The bane of my working existence is the single milkshake on the menu where it lurks at the very bottom corner, acting as a sort of mocking footnote. As the only thing on the menu completely recognizable as a blended drink, it comes up as an order far more frequently than entirely necessary and takes far more time to make than is practical.
One day, a row of orders for the offending beverage came at us in the middle of a rush and as I dug into the ice cream I found myself crooning, "Javanilla shake, Javanilla shake, the next time someone orders one I'll kick him in the face." This made S nearly drop the drink she was making as she doubled up with surprised laughter. Unfortunately, at least one of the customers who had placed an order for one was right next to the counter while I was singing and was far, far less amused.
Ever since then, I sing to the ice cream when I make the drink. I have decided to come up with a song for every possible genre of music in homage to it. Next time I'm thinking I'll sing the blues.
--
I suddenly realize that a lot has happened since I last posted. The obvious job change, for one, but other things as well. I'm now, for example, left with only one set of grandparents. After my grandfather's death earlier this year, my grandmother didn't last much longer. Her death surprised no one. My grandparents had been together so long that it was so strange that one of them would be without the other. I like to imagine that they'd arranged a meeting somewhere either in the afterlife they believed in or the next life that others do, but I also like to think that, where ever they are, they are happy.
My sister leaves on Tuesday for South America and I won't see her again for a few years at most. Perhaps, though, there will be some chance to visit her once she has settled in. She is leaving her cat, Neko, with us. How he will adjust remains to be seen. As it is, I find it very comical to watch him run from my blind cat, Stevie, who is only a third of his size and very clearly unafraid of the jaguar noises he makes.
I have not been able to watch much in the way of television lately, but the season finales of both Bones and Supernatural made me very happy.
I have been listening to a few podcast novels and most recently finished How to Disappear Completely which I recommend to anyone who liked Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. How to Disappear Completely has many things in common with Neverwhere--a seperate London, a society of people fallen through the cracks--but it also has a theme that is very definitely its own.
How to Disappear Completely can be found on iTunes or at kilbeysalmon.com