I’m fixing some plates in the back, when Kiwana yells from the salad bar,

“What’s ‘blackened’?” One of her tables requested their grilled snapper blackened.
My dad and I reply, “It’s a type of seasoning.”
Dad says to Kiwi, “Isn’t that your color?”
Kiwi looks at him like he’s crazy.

“I’m not black Mr. E, I’m Cambodian!

Laughter ensues.

Working at the restaurant, catching Amadeus on TV when I can sneak a look.  I remember watching this movie when I was 4 years old, Christmas day.  My uncle had a recorded tape of it, and I suppose I didn’t understand most of it to appreciate it, but I did know who Mozart was.  The only scene that I remember vividly that has always creeped me out, was near the end when they threw his body into that mass grave. It was so eerie.

Anyway, changed the channel now, X-Files is on SciFi!

So I was planning to blog about this sooner, but didn’t know how to come about it.  There’s a girl named Kiwana who works at my mom’s restaurant, and she is one of the coolest, most down-to-earth people I’ve met in this town.  She wants to go to California after hearing my brother and I gush about it so much compared to Texas. She’s’ like a little sister to me, so I’m trying to push her to leave Texas and come live with me!  I’m hoping she has enough money saved up by September.  So I’ve made plans with Joe, told him about her, and he’s totally fine with us 3 living in an apartment or house together somewhere in the bay area.  Hot damn I’m excited.

Rawr to wake up in the morning to an unpleasant twitter by a someone I have on my bad side, especially since I made plans the previous day that would have helped me forget it all.

I suppose I shouldn’t be so anal about it, but atm it’s just a sensitive issue…

So I’m going to try and record events that stick out in my mind as the day goes by.

It’s 12:45pm, lunchtime, and four black women come in. Even though they were not in their usual prison guard uniforms, I instantly recognized two of them and wanted to run. The last time I was here, they came every other day, always ordering to-go, always in a rush, always having that very intimidating demeanor about them, never smiling.

However today, they were dressed up, probably going to the strip mall or somewhere lame like that, and I thought, “Maybe they won’t be as intimidating since they’re not working today…”

Wrong.

“Get me some fried pickles and boudin balls, says the head scary woman.
“Yes ma’am.” I don’t even bother to smile. I used to smile and try to loosen them up, but after many failed attempts, every time they come in my face just goes from :) to >:(
Her friend jumps in, “Ain’t you gonna get me some boudin balls too?
“I didn’t know you wanted any. Did you want something?”
“Yeah get me some fried pickles and boudin balls.”
“Another order.”
Second head bitch says to another woman who was looking through the menu, “Did you want anything?”
The woman shakes her head.
“Then why did you come here if you weren’t gonna get nothin’?” She scoffs.

I hand the ticket over to Jessica and tell her to put it up in the back. I went over to the left to close an open cooler door when the head bitch asks me, “Do you know how long it’s gonna take ma’am?”

“About 15 minutes.” She nods in approval.
“Put them in separate bags.”
Okay not surprising. Usually they tell us to wrap it in saran wrap or something stupid because they can’t bring closed containers into the prison. We usually try our best but they always end up taking it out and making a mess all over our tables before they leave. That would always irritate me. We’re not responsible for what your workplace food policies are. Buy your own shit, package it yourself. I hate how people treat us like we’re their mothers, doing every little thing for them because they think they have the right.

So ten minutes pass by, and I’m in the kitchen packaging their food, waiting for the boudin balls to be done cooking. Jessica comes in and says, “Hey is their food ready? They say they have to go, they’re in a hurry.”

“What? I told them 15 minutes.” The cook and I looked at each other.
“Just give it to them. If the boudin balls aren’t completely cooked through, that’s their fault. I told them 15 minutes. This isn’t a fast food restaurant.”
So we package it and give it to them. Not even a thank you.

So the lesson. Don’t rush the cooks. If you don’t have time or patience to come into a restaurant and wait for the food to be cooked completely, don’t order at all! And don’t be sooo fucking angry looking all the time. >:O

I walked outside this morning and noticed there was a light breeze blowing through the complex.

“Huh that’s interesting. It’s never breezy.”

I got into the car and started driving to the restaurant, seeing the sky was full of clouds and darker towards the south.

Then it dawned on me. A HURRICANE IS COMING!!!! Oh man I hope it blows this place down. =]

Qaeda: how are you doing
Me: i guess im doing ok
Qaeda: you’re doing great
Qaeda: cuz you finally got rid of a fucken dog
Qaeda: you’re monica kong niggaaaaaaa
Qaeda: the girl that every guy wants
Me: hahahahah
Me: you definitely know how to make me feel better that’s for sure
Qaeda: no just you
Qaeda: cuz i love you
Me: i love you too

Goddamn if it weren’t for friends like Amit I don’t know where I’d be.

So I am in bloody hellhole Texas, working at the shop, dealing with the same stupid people…it’s so funny how they always come back but every single time they have something retarded to complain about.

And what the fuck is up with everyone drinking tea? Kiwana came to the back and said, “The customers don’t like the tea.” i tasted it. It tasted like metal. So we made another pitcher. I tasted it. It tasted like water. Then I told her,

“Serve it to them anyway.” And she does.

She came back. “They told me this tea is delicious!”

Delicious iced tea that tastes like water? An extra $1.39 for us, woohoo!

Angsty angsty post…

I can’t wait to go home and not have to worry about anything.  I just want to sit in my backyard, with my friends, have some laughs, feel totally relaxed and happy…

Why am I such a fucking nice person >.> I can’t bear to put any negativity upon someone unless it’s a family member or a significant other (maybe).   I can feel it building up, I really can, and one of these days I’m just going to explode…not good…and where is Dushaun when I need him?!  That’s another thing, I dislike worrying so much… He hasn’t called me or been online for several days so I’m worried something may have happened to him.  It’s never “Oh well, he’s just been busy,” NO it’s “Oh my god wtf something must have happened to him” and I always imagine the worse case scenario – car accident, robbery, freak accident…ugh how lame…now I have to vent on this blog instead of to him…blogging is like talking to a fucking wall.

Why is it that my good friends are the ones who sign their lives to the military?  Max is overseas, and will be for the next several months.  He’s usually the guy who I like to call when I’m home and just hang out, talk and have some coffee with… Dan is in Afghanistan, and told me recently he got into his first fire-fight the other day….after reassuring me NOT to worry because he’s in a safe area!  I wonder if Dushaun has already started his army training…maybe that’s why he’s been gone.

I want to go home and eat my grandma’s tomatoes, relax in my sea-green colored room, and cook in a kitchen with actual counter space!!

I don’t feel alive.

My first Fanime was amazing….

It was everything I feared it to be in terms of working and not being able to see much of the con, but I met sooo many awesome people.  Unfortunately, the majority of them live in the bay area and I’ll be going home back to socal soon, but I know our connections will be lasting ones. :)

Good karma~! For instance, I saw Kris doing line control for pre-registerees for 2009, and he looked somewhat fatigued so I offered to get him some boba.  The next day, he was kind enough to take me to the dealer’s hall to get this cute bag I saw, and he even spotted me a few dollars because I happened to be short! <3<3<3 SO AWESOME.

I don’t have much to say, and I’m not going to blog a huge con report, but I can say that Fanime was pretty damn cool, and most likely I’ll be coming back next year. =]

Charlie started shooting, but the officer took a shot and got him below the left shoulder.  He dropped the gun.  I got angry and picked it up, and started firing back at the officer.  My brother told me to stop.

I held him in my arms, crying, trying to wipe the blood away. It wouldn’t stop gushing out.  I remember telling him to hold on, that I love him, our parents love him, that he can’t die.

Then he said this to me:

“At least I’ll be with Ma…”

This past weekend at home was ridiculously more awesome than I could have ever imagined it to be!! I got to see EVERYONE I wanted to see, clubbing with the younger kids, bar hopping with the older kids, and of course, leisure time with the awesome high school darling.  Oh yeahh the guy friend was there too… ^.^  Family bbq before I left, it was bomb, and I saw Jimmy, who I hadn’t seen in years!!  The guy that spent the early years over at my house, taught me my first swear word, and even how to spell it.  S-H-I-T

I would go into more detail about what has been going on inside my head, however it’s late and I’m tired.