Thursday, December 31, 2009

To have sand in my pockets and nothing on my mind

Now I don't know if I'll be home to post a midnight reflection on 2009, so here is this piece of wisdom from the very talented josh pyke that have set me thinking a lot...

If you’re freezing on your left side
And you’re boiling on your right side
Then I guess you might be warm upon the line
There are many ways one can divide a life
And I’ve got mine

I was flying home and I
Saw the sunset from the sky
I saw the dark come spooning down upon the land
And I thought about the distance we all cover
And it made me sad

And as the old year took a bow
And joined the setting sun
It comes around again
Like a refrain
And we all sing along
And think of things we should’ve done
Till one year when the new year never came

Little comfort, little comfort
I’m afraid you’re not enough
I’ve had some learning both unwelcome and unkind
And it seems there’s but one story told
And then re-worked all throughout time

Are you a good one or a cruel one
It is just the laws that make us bad
What can we do to measure where we stand
Well I judge myself by what I give to someone else
So I’ll know where I am

Don’t let that sense of urgency betray you in the dark
The rustle of a curtain’s not a sign
Don’t frame this picture now
As some kind of closing remark
And most of all stay warm upon the line
Most of all stay warm upon the line
It’s best if you stay warm upon the line


Happy New Years to all.
May it be blessed with good times and good truth, good friends and good lessons learnt so that this time next year, you can say it was all worth it.

Live with no regrets.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

I know its mad, but if I...

A thing to remember...
random hilarious voice messages of the two of you roaring along with plush tigers

'how does that work?' 'its magic sweety'

'you were meant to turn there!' 'what??' ' I said go straight!' 'I did go straight!' 'No, you veered right!' 'What the hell? In direction speak that is straight!' 'no its not!' 'Yes! It is!' 'No!! It's not!!' 'Hey, do you drive??' 'uhhh...no?' 'SO SHUT UP!!!'
(my favourite things about this are a) we won and b) the last three retorts from my side were double tracked with my best girl ;] )

and also, a random bit of prosetry that I thought of...

'my tongue is covered with the bite marks that spell out all the things I should have said'

Thursday, December 24, 2009

love in a desert

A random idea I had as I was answering the phones at work tonight, may come out a little weirdly cos I'm reaaaaallllly tired, but I wanna get it down before I forget...

It kinda falls in the short story category, but its long for a blog entry, so if you don't have the stamina either come back later, or don't worry about it.
If you could read it and comment me about it, that would be awesome, but I'm not too fussed.
Have a good day :)


Was that all for you tonight?
'It started as a dare.
It was an ambivalent Saturday afternoon and we met up before work, to grab a bite to eat that was not pizza, or pasta.
We would drink anything that was not coffee, coke or beer.
We would go anywhere but work.

We were determined not to think or talk about it.
So, of course, the first thing we did as we sat down with our glasses of Chinese tea, was say
"Wow, isn't it nice to not be at work?"

There were 7 waitresses at our little cafe, only six of whom worked nights.
One was taken down with glandular fever, another a broken leg, one taking school leave for exams and the other gallivanting across Greece for 5 weeks.

So it was just the two of us, working joint closes, 5 til 10:30 or 11:00 every single night, and we had been for the last 11 days. Until Josie got her cast off (months away), Claire got over the glandular fever (goodness only knows how far away), Stella finished exams and final assignments (another week away yet) or Dannie got back from Greece (four weeks) we were stuck doing this.

On one hand, we'd gotten into a great rhythm.
On the other hand, we were going nuts.

"Seriously, if I have to say 'sorry, for chicken pizzas we have either the chicken supreme or the chicken and pineapple' one more time, I'll smash a glass on purpose."

"Well if I have to say 'sorry we can't do credit card for delivery's' one more time, I'm going to slap someone"

"Well if I have to say 'Have a good night' one more time, I am seriously going to go on a murderous rampage."

"If I have one more fat greasy sleazy old man wink at me and say 'thanks gorgeous' I'm going to set the store on fire."

"Cheers to that"

It was all a joke, in the beginning we were just kidding.

Then we got to work, cleared the tables from lunch and all that setup jazz.

And it started.

One of the more extremely moronic delivery boys ran past the sink with arms full of Party size pizzas and knocked 4 glasses off, sending them hurtling down to an untimely death, only to say 'oops' and leave.


A fantastic start.

Then my headache kicked in, right as a table of 9 walked in off the street, complete with two screaming toddlers.

Gee, thanks, you shouldn't have.

Then said toddlers spilt three full glasses of coke all over the table cloth, the garlic bread, themselves, their highchairs, and the floor.

And we ever so honestly calmly say
'Oh thats just great OK, I hate you it's fine'

And clear up.

As I'm walking away with the dripping table cloth, I hear a smash.

Gee, thanks. You shouldn't have.

As I return from fixing it up yet again, I see the pile of take away orders, banked up already.

Oh shit yippee.


And so, at only half past 5, we entered a whirlwind of complaints, mistakes, grumpy customers, broken fridges, empty bottles, declined credit cards, screaming children, melting gelati, devastating heat, and always, always the noise.

Whirring, crying, beeping, humming, throbbing, chinking, talking, bitching, scraping, piercing

noise.


Normally, the level of busy-ness is fluctuating, with lower points within the peak, it comes in waves. Tonight was turning out to be be one big endless wave. One table of 3 would leave, the second they did so, someone arrived wanting a table of four, run out and clear it and round the cycle goes, never stopping, never getting easier.

Until at 9:45, after four and a quarter hours of ceaseless rush, one particular cocky, sleazy, dust for brains guy pushed me over the edge.

"Would you like that American hot or mild?"

"Oh definitely hot. Hot, blonde, around nineteen, drunk and easy."

Now, I've had people make jokes before, in a similar vein, but never so blatantly disgusting.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard! Hot, blonde, around nine-"

"Yes, I heard that. I may not be drunk, blonde or hot, but I'm not deaf or dumb"

"Oh, so you're not denying that you're easy then!"

"How dare you! You have no right to speak to me that way!"

"Hey, it's my right to speak the truth!"

"I am not easy! And how would you have any idea, you don't even know me!"

"I can't help it if your reputation precedes you!"

"How dare you! I don't have to tolerate this kind of behaviour, I'll go and get my boss in a minute"

"You know what sweet cheeks, forget about the pizza, I don't wanna buy from a pissy little slut anyway."


And he stumbled out, muttering along on his way.

I was shocked, disgusted and really pissed off.

Trying my best to shake it off, I moved onto the customer who was waiting behind him.

A few minutes later, I had to answer the phone.
Blah blah blah, pick up order, name
"Could I just grab a contact number please?"

"Oh, you want my number do ya!"

" get screwed It's so we can contact you if we need to clarify anything or inform you of any changes"

"Yeah sure, that's what they all say."

"Sir, I need your contact number for the purposes of the order"

"Methinks she doth protest too much"

"Seriously, all jokes aside Sir"

"I like that, respect. A woman who knows her place"

"Excuse me, but do you want to order pizza or do you just want to insult me"

"I'm not sure, but I reckon both sounds like fun"

"I don't need to tolerate this, we have quite enough business without putting up with swine like you"

"Ooooh, fiesty, I like that in a woman! Fiesty, booby and..."

at that point I hung up. Don't know why I waited so long really.

Instantly, the phone rings again.

"Good evening, how can I help you?"

"Ah, where can I begin?"

For some reason, I didn't recognise pig-brains voice and responded, instead of hanging up.

"I'm sorry?"

"Why'd you hang up on me fiesty, we were just getting started!"

Then I recognised him.

Poking my head out the back, I asked a delivery boy to answer the phone and swapped back onto the till, hoping I at least wouldn't be insulted or hit on.

No such luck.

"I'll have a Party sized tropical and a Party sized hot American. Huh-huh, get it! Huh-huh, a tropical party, thats classic."

An extremely forced smile and confirmation later, I made the mistake of letting my waitress smile slip off.

"Oh whats the matter sexy, sad you can't come?"

I am so past bothering to give a shit, so I just look at him blankly for a second and go back to order scribbling.

"Oh, poor hottie wants to come to the party. Tell you what, I'll do you a favour. I'll give you a nice big tip, but only if you'll do me 'a favour'."

My blank look turns to a glare, and the ghost of a twitch.

"I mean a blow-job, in case you couldn't trouble your pretty head to figure it out."

That does it.

"You know what?"

"What is it, gorgeous?"

"Get fucked."

"If you insist" as he nudged his slimy little wing-man

"No seriously, fuck off."

"Thats a little rude don't you think."

"No, not really, I think it's justified. I don't have to put up with this shit you know! I'm not your eye candy, I am a waitress, and a human being with a brain much bigger than yours and standards much higher than you, so fuck off."

"Awww, is someone a little crabby? Someone going through their little time of the month?

"That's enough. No, seriously, FUCK OFF. You can take your tip, your blow-job, your party sized american and your giant empty head and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS! Get the fuck away from me, you slimy, sexist, ugly, horny little FUCK-TARD!!!'

And then, as my breathing sped up, shock racing through my system, he did the unthinkable.

He reached across the counter with his repulsive little hand and patted me on the face.

"There, there sexy, we can't always be as wonderful as me, no need to be bitter."

"Don't you DARE touch me!!!"

He lent up over the bench top right up close, and I could smell the rum and weed all over him as whispered "Don't pretend you don't want me to..."

So many times, I've read the phrase 'my fist seemed to fly on its own', and I still don't understand it. The punch I threw was the first I had ever delivered straight to a persons face, and I damn well meant it.

As I unleashed a week and a half worth of tension, frustration and blind anger, I felt his nose meet my stainless silver ring, and did I imagine that cracking sound? Did I imagine that absolutely everything went quiet right at that instant?

Apparently not, because when I pulled back, breathing heavy, I could almost hear the blood start to trickle down his disgusting little face, mingling with fear, as he swore like a sailor and bolted, tail between his legs.

I stood there, paralysed by shock and adrenaline, but still kind of proud of myself in a way, and still very angry.

All eyes were on me. Every customer, delivery boy, waitress, chef. Every man, woman and child.

My boss.

"You know what? FUCK YOU ALL! You can take your orders, your money, your criticism and your bitching and SHOVE IT!"

Then without knowing what I was doing, I fled the scene of my crime and hid in the storeroom.

Shockingly, my boss gave me the next night off...'



Monday, December 21, 2009

haven't we suffered enough?

'No news is good news' is a terribly flawed statement. Perhaps, nothing bad has happened anywhere on any scale, and there are no dogs playing Rachmaninoff with their tails, or old people complaining, and so all news casters have unanimously decided to take the night off.

Or perhaps, conversely (and more probably) a freak lightning storm has shot the tower and subsequently killed all who were around and underneath it in a gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, agonising way. So perhaps no news is really horrible news and we are doomed to negativity and pain whichever way we go Perhaps its best to pretend that no news is good news and live ignorant, happy and damp, under a large rock.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

it's better that we know, that love is hard

So basically, education sucks.
Calling it education is hugely misleading.
They might as well just label it 'disappointment and pressure centre' and be done with it.

I don't feel educated, I feel defeated, deflated, beaten.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

No poem or song could put right what I got wrong

Titanic.
Widely known as the cheeriest movie ever.

-cough-

The first time I watched the titanic, I did not cry.
I did not cry when he dies, when they are freezing and dying and there seems to be no hope.
I did not cry when those left are saved.
I did not cry when it ends.


I am not even crying now, I am shuddering.

My poor affluent, spoiled, individualist little heart breaks, as that irish mother tells her children 'they'll get the first class people in the boats first and when it's our turn we'll be ready'

As the stone hearted first class mother says
'Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they aren't too crowded.
'Oh mother, shut up! Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats. Not enough by half. Half the people on this ship are going to die.

'Not the better half.'

As the man hesitates, hesitates and then jumps into one of so few lifeboats and he sits there, trembling, he knows full well what he does. He knows that he has sacrificed their lives for his.




And I am sitting here, watching Jack freeze and Rose cry, as those in the boats flail around and listen to the cries for help slowly getting quieter, slowly fading away and my heart is breaking. Not because Kate Winslett just did her 'I'll never let go' bit.

Because I am Cal Hockley, pretending I am a childs last hope, to save myself, pretending to be good to save my own sorry skin.

I am Molly Brown, speaking up to little and too late, and sitting down.

I am saving my own skin.



Fifteen-hundred people went into the sea, when Titanic sank from under us. There were twenty boats floating nearby... and only one came back. One. Six were saved from the water, myself included. Six... out of fifteen-hundred. Afterward, the seven-hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait... wait to die... wait to live... wait for an absolution... that would never come.


I am the first class of the titanic, but goddamnit, I'm going back.
I'm going back to the scene of my crime and I'm going to make a difference.
But am I really?
Life is comfortable, poverty is far away...
I am too human.

But if I have to watch Titanic once a week and feel this agony all the time...
It's better than the regret of following the alternative.

I will not be those people...
Please god... help me to be better than I am, better than human.


take my heart, take my heart, kindle it with your heart.
take my heart, rekindle my heart.


Friday, December 4, 2009

The time of your life...

Say it ain't so
I will not go
Turn the lights off
Carry me home


na na na na na na na na na na
na na na na na na na na na na
na na na na na na na na na na
na na na na na na na na na na