Spike's Bitches 23: We've mastered the power of positive giving up.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Many congratulations, Stephanie!
Therapist is gone. The babies (probably Kara) stole one of her toys so she spent a good 15 minutes poking about, as were we all--but I was hoping to keep her to the living room since I hadn't cleaned anything else--trying to find it. No luck. Some days, a smacking is too good for them.
Paul turns into crankyman if he hasn't eaten. I've been known to forget to eat until it's almost supper time because I'm good at not noticing hunger. We both need to re-learn how to eat right, but my, it's hard when you've no real time.
Last year the nurse practitioner who does my primary care gave me the cards for some nutritionists when I said I kept trying to do WW but was unwilling/unable to stick to it for any length of time. I never went because of money issues and I lost the cards, but this year we A) aren't
quite
as broke, and B) have one of those flexible spending accounts and could get reimbursed for that sort of thing. So maybe I should try that again--say that true low carb is off the table because I want to actually
enjoy my food,
but that I'm open to any other suggestions for an eating plan that will work with my lifestyle. And maybe I should back away from WW until I get some professional advice on how to manage my particular hunger patterns.
I know I need to cut back on pure junk food, FWIW. And I've really gotten worse with it in the past few years than ever before--it's like I feel like I have to drink all the Dr Pepper and eat all the fast food I can now because I feel like someone is going to take them away from me.
Beth and Jess already explained it, but the deal was that we mostly needed to *sit,* and there wasn't enough seating in the waiting area (or maybe there was none -- I can't remember). My first action was to quietly tell the hostess, "Look we have some people with diabetes, and a person with MS, and we *really* need to physically sit; we can certainly wait for menus and place settings." [Note: the tables weren't dirty; they just didn't have flatware or menus on them.]
The hostess said that wasn't possible, that they could NOT seat us until the place settings and menus were on the table. I said, "I understand that you need to set things up, but we're not asking to place orders right away; we have people who NEED to sit because of medical conditions." She refused again, and I finally snapped.
I don't make a habit of getting all diva on restaurant hostesses; I wasn't asking to be seated right away simply because I thought we were too good to be kept waiting. We had people who were going to hit the floor -- literally -- if they had to keep standing.
Is it better for a restaurant to have customers passing out because they aren't allowed to sit in chairs that are clearly unoccupied, just so that they can set menus down on the unoccupied tables? That's insane. And, I'd wager, would put the restaurant legally at risk.
t tangent, me me meeeee!
So, I'm wearing fluffy petticoats and knee-length skirts as part of my outfit today. I was walking back to my desk when one of my fellow editors passed me in the hallway. "Hi, cutie!" she chirps. And then comes into my office a few minutes later to make sure I wasn't offended by her calling me 'cutie'. I started giggling.
t /tangent
I guess I don't understand- and I'm being oversensitive about it anyway. I was grabbed pretty hard by a guy one night who was waiting on a table (brewpub/rest. on a Friday night) for 2. There was an empty table and the previous occupants couldn't have vacacted it more than 5 minutes before (I may have even been on my way over to clear it). and he grabbed my arm while I was walking past him and was all hissing "What about
that
table!?!" I almost hated to seat him there or at all, because I didn't want to reward that behavior, but one of my sweet sweet waiters took care of it for me.
Howdy from the Great Dead Silence.
Job-change complete, am at work now in the space I have filled with stuffed microbes, pictures of Alfredo, and my headphones so I can listen to music instead of answer phones.
Spanish class complete. WoW eating brain. Saw Trilogy Tuesday again last Saturday (unexpectedly; they were expecting only theatrical releases and were surprised with EE for FotR and TTT), wept uncontrollably at Eagles. About to get passport for the first time for early-July visit to Amsterdam(n) and Spain to MEET THE INLAWS (who don't speak English...do you sense a Python sketch? I DO)
And now, back to work.
(waves)
People in public...make ya wonder.
In my first real job, I worked at an amusment part. Nightmare on a stick.
After being punched in the stomach...hard...by a literally little, old lady, I came to realize that folks have some pretty pressing needs that seem to transcend civility. I adopted a monumental whatever and made it through the summer but have since successfully avoided food service and entertainment (which seem to be the worst arenas) jobs.
who don't speak English...
Just talked to my mom who is visiting my Bro in Holland. She spent yesterday shopping with my SiL's lovely mother, who doesn't speak a word of English. The moms had a great day, despite not being able to say one word to each other.
I guess I don't understand- and I'm being oversensitive about it anyway. I was grabbed pretty hard by a guy one night who was waiting on a table (brewpub/rest. on a Friday night) for 2. There was an empty table and the previous occupants couldn't have vacacted it more than 5 minutes before (I may have even been on my way over to clear it). and he grabbed my arm while I was walking past him and was all hissing "What about that table!?!"
Okay, but in our case, I did NOT bark at the hostess right off the bat. My first step was to ask her quietly and politely, explaining that we had people who had medical issues such that they needed to sit.
The guy you just described sounds neither polite nor medically challenged.