I have decided that rather than hating my job and bitching about it, I am going to treat it as an ethnographic mission, where I study the phenomna and species that can be found at my place of work.

The first study I have conducted is that of the Decaf Nazi.

Decaf Nazi
(humanus decaffeinis)

This creature is characterized by incessantly asking if their beverage is decaffeinated. Typically they will ask a minimum of four times. They can mainly be observed during early to late evening. Rarely seen at night. Easily identifiable by the screech in their voice. Close cousin to the Skim Nazi.

 
In the past 4 days I have had eight different people come to this site looking for homemade tattoo gun plans. (And I am sure that by typing this that number will only increase.)

Let me just say that I know nothing about this topic and actually urge you to have your tattoo work done by a professional.

Or, if listening to reason just isn't for you, you could just go buy the plans for $10.00 at this guys site.

 
I love living in New Orleans where the weather is schizophrenic. Yesterday it was sweltering and today it is 55 degrees. Could someone explain that to me?

 
I had pretty much decided to avoid talking about the war on my blog. And up until this point I have been successful. That was until I read this post at Michele's blog.

Apparently, there was an incident in Montpelier, Vermont where teenages were screaming things like "baby killer" and "murderer" at a woman in the National Guard, and then proceeded to throw rocks at her.

Now, I will be the first to say that I am opposed to this war. I think that our decision to unilaterally attck another country is a poor one. And even more, the idea of setting up a democratic government in the center of the Middle East is ludicrous.

But that in no way makes me want to throw rocks at a member of the armed forces. These people have it bad enough. Many of those fighting in Iraq joined the Army to help pay for school. Believe me, this isn't exactly the trade-off they thought they were going to make for an education. And for those who chose this as a career, it's not any easier to go half-way around the world and leave their friends and family behind to fight a war in the middle of the desert. While we can say that it will be an easy war or we will have minimal casualties, soldiers know better than anyone else, that the chance is always there that they might not make it home.

I am fine with anyone hating the war for any number of reasons. And I totally support war protests. But don't take it out on the armed forces. It's an asinine and uninformed method of protest, that's not going to get you anywhere.

 
Is it wrong to go to a St. Joseph's Altar and cruise boys? Is it even more wrong to go to a gay bar afterwards to get your drink on becaue the box wine just wasn't doing it for you?

 
I have found that it helps make work a little more tolerable when I show up buzzed. That's why I made a point to get my Irish on at Parasol's today before going to work.

Of course, being Italian/Sicilian and not at all Irish, the celebration I am really interested in is on Wednesday, when I will be consuming food in near dangerous amounts. But I only get the stuff once a year, so what the hell, right?

 
It's about to storm. The skies have darkened and the wind has begun to blow. I can her the rumbles of thunder getting even closer. And all I want to do is sit on my back porch and watch it pour and then fall asleep to the sound of rain pounding on the roof.

 
I have finally started hearing back from universities. When I called Concordia yesterday, they informed me that I had been waitlisted. Lovely. That means that they decided to not make a decision. I have to wait and see a bit longer. And of course, I have no idea what number I am on the waitlist because I stupidly didn't think to ask.

 
What kind of sign is it when your birthday begins by watching a member of the cast of Sesame Street Live strip at the OZ?

Yeah, that's what I thought too.

 
Cracked Out

Tonight, work was the weirdest it's ever been. It actually trumped the afternoon a woman brought us roadkill squirrel in the midle of lunch. "She actually told us if it had been a rabbit she would have "gutted it, cleaned it and made some stew. But you just can't get enough meat off squirrels.") But back to the present.

Saturday nights are usually very quiet. We typically get some studiers and a few couples coming home from a party. Tonight I had to kick out a large group of kids who thought it would be a good idea to make a collage out of live flowers and sugar on the table, using honey as adhesive. Then we get slammed because a horde of people left a wedding reception at the country club down the street. But the crowing moment was when two white trash girls come in.

One of the girls heads immediately to the bathroom while the other proceeds to buy an apple and a granola bar. This girl is completely tweaked out and can't stand still for two seconds. She is shaking worse than a parkinson's patient when she tries to pay with change. Finally, she joins the other girl in the bathroom, only to exit five minutes later reaking of men's cologne. Come to find out, they had been smoking crack in the bathroom. At the rate I have been going with work, I was honestly expecting one of them to OD in the bathroom, but no such luck. I think it may be time to find a new job.

 
It's really a shame that the weather we had today wasn't the weather we had for Mardi Gras.

(How sad is it that this is the first time since Mardi Gras that I have been anywhere near my computer? It's also dangerous seeing as how the people at hotmail have sent death threats if I don't check my mail soon.)

 
It's only 11:00 and I have already had a full day. At 5 after 10:00 this morning, I was awoken by the people from my bank calling, asking if I had written a $380.00 check to an Andre something-or-other. Realizing that I hadn't and shortly thereafter, realizing that my checkbook was missing, I was off to the bank to close my account.

All I have to say is that I am so happy that a stupid person was forging my checks. Aparently, he cashed a check for $250 this morning at a branch of my bank. Then, less than an hour later he went back to the same branch to cash another check. This time, someone had the presence of mind to ask him for ID, which he produced. Not only did he show them his ID, but he allowed them to photocopy it, before leaving the building without getting the second check cashed.

So now I have a new checking account and my bank actually has a photocopy of the the ID of the man who was forging my checks. Plus, because no one checked his ID or the signature file the first time, the bank has to give me back my $250. So I have officially had enough fun for one day. I think I'm going back to bed.