Noteworthy bullshit and stuff of the day

Several things happened to me today that were noteworthy.
1: A guy got pissed at me for giving him five 1's when his change was 5.23. It's the day after fucking Christmas dude. Don't be an ass, put a dollar in the tip jar! Besides, you can't control how a business gives you change, you aren't the cashier. Only at a bank or grocery store or something huge can you be so nit-picky. We are a coffee shop. The most expensive item in the store is no more than $20. And *most* items, are below $5. No, we can't take your fucking $50 or $100 bills. Too many counterfeits, but more importantly we're only allowed to keep 1's, 5's and the rarity of 10's in the till. Don't be a prick; don't try to cash large bills and take what you get for change and go get your perfectly made bitchy high-maintenance latte.

2: A coworker actually complained that since she was on her seventh hour of work for the day and it had been busy, she shouldn't have to do her job....I almost knocked her to the ground. She kept following me around and doing anything I did aside from ringing up customers at her till. Very unhelpful.

3: The homeless woman who sits on her computer doing god-knows-what (once it was look up useless news like how many people have died in an elevator recently) with headphones on for at least twelve hours every day, brushes her teeth in our bathroom and uses toilet seat covers as towels (and she does this all after it's just been cleaned, nightly), spends no more than six dollars daily, parks in the closet spot to the store, hates men, always tries to get us to remake her drink after drinking half of it, and has a tendency to be argumentative.  How do I know she's homeless? Her windows are blocked by cardboard a lot of the time and she uses our bathroom to bathe nightly. She has also tried to say she was disabled (she is no such thing at all) to our delivery guy. Oh, and she gets mad if we play classical music. She will literally ask us to turn it down and complain she's getting deaf because of it despite her wearing her huge headphones 98% of the time. I want to be nice, but it only makes this situation worse.  She needs to leave. And not come back. But no one has the guts, they say we can't, and mostly, they don't care enough even though we all have to deal with her both day and night shifts and she's beyond ridiculous.

4: I met someone named "Dzintra" and someone else named "Qusai." Very cool.

5: I broke my headphones while mopping. Not cool.

A lie? A miscalculation? An unpredicatabality.

You know how when you're really young
they tell you
you can be anything you want
then you get to be in high school
really making decisions toward the end
it's all about death rates and success rates.
If only there was a fucking graph.
Don't go into this career,
everyone dies in mission and passion.
Go into this one, it's successful at a sixty-seven percent!
Right?
I mean, if you join the military your family is proud
but also really scared and worried.
If you're an astronaut, people have to live without you
and don't know if you'll ever come home.
I know all jobs take sacrifice to make a family work
but you gotta admit
some mathmatic legwork might ease the decision making for more than a few of us.

Questions and current rambles in my head

I've been pondering a few things lately. My photographs that are really old, what do they matter now? I mean, will I get any credit? Do they have any value or worth being that old? And what if I have an idea now, for no real reason I think a girl laying on patterned cement with grass growing out of it lifting her skirt to reveal her legs and colored panties would look awesome, I say but do I take the photo? And if so, in broad daylight, how the hell am I supposed to pose for such a thing or for that matter just be the one to snap the shop.

Another question I've been thinking about it if all my outside door plants will survive the Seattle "winter"? I really don't know but my mint seems to be doing quite fine.

I also wonder if cats can have depression and if they can, does mine have it? How can I get her to be active and happy? Or more importantly, how can I get myself to do either of those things?

I want to cook more, take more photos, and write as much as possible. This requires a lot more awake time than I've become accustomed to. I mean how am I supposed to work 30+ hours a week, watch multiple episodes of crime television and eat and then do all those other things. I wish I could just have an organized system. Complete with benefits and consequences. Oh that'd be wonderful.

I need to meet an inspiring stranger, and see a very new view. Something that introduces me to a whole new world.

Well, Goodnight. Off to cuddle with the man.

A night to remember

The only thing that made it different,

different from any other day, 

was our mindset. 

It was our day.

Not any longer than any other day,

but it was ours. We could do anything, 

and we weren't gonna fight. 

And we didn't. 

We decided against canoeing in a circle,

and walked downtown to find cool shops. 

Being labor day, they were all closed. 

But the buildings were still old and unique. 

As was our experience at the bar 

a couple minutes later. 

I stole their white ball from the pool table.

They were missing a ball anyway,

and it gives us something to remember from the day. 

It made me feel good to get away with it. 

Cory wanted to get off the block when I told him

as we walked away. 

At dinner, we drank sangrias and ate wet salad, 

but when the entree came we couldn't speak it was so incredible.

Jay-walking across a highway with a barrier to get to the Needle

was probably the climax of the evening. 

Finally at the Space Needle, and waiting in line,

cuddling all the way, we took a quick kiss in front of the camera

and up we went to the top.

The view took our breath away. 

Next time, I'll bring tequila shots in my bra 

just for celebratory measures. 

When we got down, we were exhausted and ready to be home.

Twelve dollars later, a taxi delivered us home. 

It was worth it, I've never been in a taxi in Seattle. 

Let alone with my husband! 

I feel the term "newly wed" is more appropriate now, 

because I'm so excited and happy to be married, 

we got to a year so I feel settled 

not like we have to prove anything to anyone but one another, 

I want to make sure everyone, every soul, knows I'm married. 

Just because I'm so proud! 

It was a different day for sure, 

it seemed easy. We just worked together and stayed happy. 

Even when trying to find Pioneer Square, and the restaurant. 

He picked out my outfit before hand;

a dress I have low esteem with but love to wear.

Just one more way I know he loves me, 

he accepts me as just who I am. 

I'm not odd or out of style or unattractive to him, 

I'm Ana, the love of his life.

Yes, our anniversary was perfect. 

Welcome to a new world

I think I've planned.
I did.
Thought I thought about everything.
Prioritized and did the most important and possible at the house.
Of course the bridge was up.
Fifteen minutes later,
a minute late,
I'm being criticized by authority for not communicating.
Seriously?
Forget it and move on.
I'm doing three things at once while trying to make people happy
on both ends of the spectrum, coworkers and customers,
and again I'm criticized and confused by authority.
With good guidance, I got over it.

Lunch, find out Grandma really did die.
From alcohol.
Really? You had to escape all the end of life?
At least what I think of is your smile.
Husband calls with sympathy and encouragment.
Find a groove and get back to working.

Break again,
Husband's at the bar.
No worries, he's beyond faithful and
anticipating my arrival from work.
Loooooooooong close.

Come home,
two-thirty,
no husband.
I drive downtown from our place,
freaking out while crying.
I call,
call,
and call again.
Call friends.
No one knows.

Ask God to keep him safe,
he calls;
just being him,
talking to the bartender who had no last call.
Thank God!
But I think he was drugged at the bar.
He can't walk well
and his eyes keep dilating and then going normal,
back and forth.
Then he wants to pass out after apologizing genuinely.
Really?
So scared.

Thank god You've Got Mail's on...
cried alot tonight. It's all ok,
he's okay.
I've checked his pulse three times tonight,
and will continue doing so,
just in case.
Crazy, crazy night.

Ours for the taking

Fourteen days and there we are.
Hopefully sitting a top our new city,
our new home
together.

It took a lot to get here;
sleepless nights in the back of a pick up,
bourban fights,
country wedding plans,
peeing in a cup,
pressure from all parents,
unemployment,
wrong employment.

Our new home isn't quite what we're used to,
what we came from;
quick-to-find long hikes,
big fires not too far away,
simple minded people in suberbia,
and a cool lake to jump in at the end of the day.

No, it's far better here.
Surrounded by astonishing water,
that spreads out like imagination into the horizon.
Mountains that are in your face,
only made more beautiful by lit towers on their skirts.
Narrow roads that keep you on edge
and individuals crowd you with their need to be different,
all the while we absorb the newness.

It's ours now.
For the taking.
For the molding.
We can make it who we are.
Earnest,
passionate,
forward looking,
and
faithful.

We have the rest of our lives to find home.
I know I'm home where you are.
Maybe it's here,
maybe it's there.
Maybe it's somewhere we've never been.

I know it'll be an inspiration to those around us,
no matter where we land.
We'll be like a never ended song of Beethoven,
a masterpeice.

I love you Cory,
and I love who we are,
not to mention what we now have
to thrive for.
Happy Anniversary.

The pile up

Years and years of setting things aside.
Just letting everything pile up,
up to the sky, I swear.

Lined paper, magazines,
Pillowcases and candles.
Old love letters and school work.
Wedding gifts and prom dresses.
Everything I ever owned, I had.
Including locked up emotions,
never talked about so forgotten,
I believe.

But so much pent up anger has to come from somewhere.
I was so sheltered.
So protected from knowing what really happened.
I just kinda learned that process;
bad things happen, ignore them and move on.

I'm realizing now, that wasn't such a good thing.
It's a lot of stress if you never really sort through it all.
Get explanations for what you can, throw away the rest.
Even if you know it will be useful another day.

The divorce really messed me up.
Not 'cause I experienced it,
but because I didn't.
I didn't understand how to take relationship ups and downs.
I'm only just beginning to slightly have a clue.