Where's the beef?!?

In late October of '09, my mom and I were driving back from a close relative's funeral, in my mother's hometown in Oklahoma. At the time, we lived in New Mexico, so in order to return home, we had to drive through the vast lands knows as "Texas." It was already pretty late, and we needed to stop for dinner.

We decided to pull off into a local steakhouse in Hereford, the "Beef Capitol of the World." Perfect place to get a steak, right? We split a meal and still end up with leftovers, a few bits of steak and some butter, which we saved for our dogs. My mom and I left the restaurant, and headed back to our car in the cold October air. 

It was at this moment when she and I both head a noise we knew all too well. We gave each other this "did you hear that, I know what that is, do you?" look and we turned our heads to the front of the building. There, was a group of people standing around the cow statute in front of the resultant, doing their best to ignore this starving kitten who was begging for food at their feet.

It took us less than a millisecond to carefully walk over to where this small cat was, who by now had ran away. The other people must have scared her off. My mom and I stood out for a little while, trying to get this small cats attention, offering our leftover steak to try and bring her closer to us.

With some effort and patiences, we got her to come closet to us. We tore off little pieces of beef which the cat ran up and grabbed with her mouth, and ran away again. With every piece, she would run away, but each time stay a little closer to us. However, I was starting to run out of beef. This little cat had scarfed down all our leftovers, except for the butter.

So I scooped it up with my fingers and plopped in on the cold concrete which the cat ran up and tried to bite. You can't bite butter. Seeing her struggle to take the butter away, I wrapped my arms around her, picked her up, and we ran as fast as we could back to our car. The little cat cried in confusion and fear on the dashboard as my mom and I looked at each other. It was already very cold outside, and it was supposed to get below freezing that night. We really had no choice but to take her home with us. 

The little cat did not enjoy the car ride, but she really didn't have a choice since we were still several hours from our home. The cat clawed my arms and legs and was nibblely, but I think that was because I still had steak residue on my hands. From that moment on, I knew she going to be my cat. We pondered what kind of name to give the cat, and we were pretty sure at that point it was a she. 

When got home, I rushed into the bathroom to put this new cat in a safe spot, away from the other cats as well as the dogs. She was in pretty decent health, and my mom suggested that she was probably  somebody's pet who got loose. Over the next few days, I cleaned her up and got her to where she wasn't starving. She acclimated very well with the other cats, however to this day she still does not like dogs. 

After doing a little research, I decided on naming her Abbey, which means 'little Smith,' (which is my last name). It fits her perfectly, because she is mommy's little moosie. (And I still don't know why she is a moose. She's short and stocky like a little bear (especially when she's on her hind legs), and she links at me like a little pig (when she is not chirping and chattering when she had killkillkilled a mouseytoy). But she is the love of my life and I won't want to ever be without her. 

Now why did I tell you this story? Last night I made some pork chops for dinner. The entire time I was eating, she was offering her assistance to help me finish my meal. I tore off bites for her, browning on them to cool them off for her, and she would take them and eat them elsewhere. 

This was the face she gave me.

My goodness is she perfect. 

I see the pig meat. Give it to me.

You're not gonna eat that, let me finish it for you.

(She did the same thing on Saturday when I made this pasta/veggies/beef thing. She came up to me and I'd give her a little beef). 

Phase 1: collect underpants. Phase 2: . . . ? Phase 3: Profit!!!

So, during my unsuccessful quest to obtain a slushy, preferably of the Dr. Pepper variety, I had an idea.

This want your run of the mill lottery plan, it was the one plan to rule them all.

However, after doing a little research, I realized my idea was a little off.

The idea I had was to buy enough tickets with one of all the possible combinations of numbers. That's 5 balls drawn ranging from numbers 1 to 59, and then added on the powerball, which can be anywhere from 1 to 35. 

I'm no mathematician, and right now it's starting to make my brain hurt just thinking about them.

But the idea I had was to buy one of each of those tickets, meaning that you would defiantly win something, since you would have every single number combination possible. The problem, is in order to do this (with or without power play) you would already have to be a millionaire, and be willing to spend A LOT of time and money on this. It would only be worth it if the jackpot was far more than you would spend paying for the tickets.

But there are also the smaller prizes. . . Those would help too.

Anyway, that's just what I thought about while driving home. Silly me. 

Trust me, this was better than my idea of trying to talk about the definition of "stupid." 

Well, the fire trucks, cop cars, and  ambulances outside have caught my eye, I hope nothing bad happened. Well. See you tomorrow.

Rio's butt, right in front of my face.

He's flattered.

And snuggly.

To being an "Us" for once, instead of a "Them"

She's a laundry bug today.

Well, good news! I passed the placement test I needed to, so I can finally take a college algebra course and finish my associates. I'm going to be very happy when its all over. But, it hasn't even begun, so I'm not going to be too happy.

Today was a good day, spent mostly on the company of my editor and our cats, which is all I ever need. Work was, average. I have to be back early in the morning for a alcohol serving certification thing, at 8. I am not looking forward to it. But I've got the rest of the day off, so, I can finish saving the galaxy. Yay!

Speaking of work, last night was the final shift of one of my favorite coworkers. He had been there for a very long time, and is finally off to get a real person job as a teacher! So, a special congratulations to him! 

 It has been pleasantly stormy over the last few days, and it makes me wonder, how many people truly know the joy of an afternoon thunderstorm. I think my perspective comes from living in deserts for so long, that any amount of rain is something to be happy about. (Don't even get me started about snow, just wait til winter). The thunderstorm that happened a few days ago was a perfect example of what I'm trying to describe.

The morning, which I worked during, was pleasantly sunny and warm. The clouds developed rather quickly over the mountains to the west. By the time I arrived back at home, it started to rain. The rain turned into a heavy thunderstorm within moments, with the ground starting to flood, and the crashes of  lightning in the sky and its thunder rumbling through the house. All I could do was just stare out the window with joy. A few weeks ago, back in New Mexico, I wrote a post about how scary thunderstorms can be. This was the opposite of it. Maybe it was becase I was in my own home that I found more comfort than previously mentioned.

Well, I need to sleep. See you tomorrow after I forget to write all day and poop one out 45 minutes before midnight.

Oyasuminasai~

Winny peekies.

He says he wants more carrots and bread crumbs.

Ladies and gentlemen, this, is catbug. 

http://youtu.be/rnZdiR7YbN4

He is from a show on YouTube called Bravest Warriors. The above is every line he says.

Why is catbug relevant? Well, because I was reminded of him while I was working. A family came in and the little boy wanted a bunch of grated cheese. After their meal was over, and even after he had ice cream, he wanted more cheese, and ketchup.

So, that made my night better, because that little boy was really cute.

Speaking of cute, the little boy who voices catbug is the most adorable thing ever! See?

http://youtu.be/XlWcE5R5B84

And on the note of voices, the next video is a fan-dub of catbug. It is currently my favorite video on YouTube right now.

http://youtu.be/5TL_tvWK6zQ

Can you feel it's awesomeness?

Well. On a more serious note, work was meh. In between horrifically amazing and incredible terrible. I'm glad it's over.

I'm sure there was a lot more I had in mind to write about, but my head still hurts a little from this morning when Rio fell on top of my head while we were both asleep. He was far more confused than I.

Ok. Relaxing time.

Bye.

drowning in hypocrisy

I'm frustrated. Frustrated because I feel that I am not listened to, that my words are ignored, that regardless of how I feel, I'm still required to maintain a positive position in my household.

my warning to the person who needs to improve their attitude or leave has been ignored. I don't know if it's on purpose or not, but the small amount of interaction between us has been uncomfortable. Mostly because we haven't talked about the letter I sent or his response. It is extremely important that we fix this situation before something awful has to happen.

what bothered me is the person in question still 'asks' for us to do things for him. Its small things that bother me, like, asking for food when he had every opportunity to feed himself throughout the day but has neglected to.

remember how I made cookies the other day? Well, I make a batch without nuts because he has an allergy to nuts. A small batch of cookies, just for him, even after the problems we had the other day. I also made sugar cookies (WITH STAR SHAPED SPRINKLES!!!). Now, because I knew that he'd eat all of them if left to his own devices (speaking for experience here). I told him no, twice. The second time, to be fair, was after I offered it to guests. But, kind of out of spite, I told him no, because he really didn't deserve them. I don't care if it makes me sound selfish, he had done nothing to 'earn' the fruits of my labor. A similar thing happened when we game home from the grocery store and I had some gummy worms and he asked for some, and honestly, I didn't want to give him any for similar reasons.

I'm not wrong, right?

I'm starting to notice his more childish nature in how he behaves. I've told him and many others that he is perpetually study in the summer after high school and before he started college. Free or ignorant of the responsibilities of the real world. However, this behavior is unacceptable for him now if he wants to succeed and be respected.

I offered to make our guests dinner, intentionally not asking him if he wanted any, once again because he could have fed himself at any point during the day. He still reminded me of his hunger. Recently, he became a vegetarian, which is wonderful. However, it means I need to be even more considerate when I prepare food. I have no problem doing it, since I've done it all along since he moved in. So, I make some kind of pasta. . . thing.

now, we're all playing rock band and there is a little complaint from him not getting to sing all the songs. I've always encouraged him and my editor to try different instruments for it, with no avail.

maybe I shouldn't be so hard on him, but I'm starting to lose all my patience with everything.

sorry for the late post. . . I've been. . . Busy.

i don't know anyone who deserves to be chopped up and fed to a hungry plant.

I feel that it is time for me to rant about my job, and be justified. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my job and I love the people I work with. What drives me insane here, are the customers.

there are a special variety of people who frequent the faux Italian restaurant chain where I spend my days. Of course, our restaurant being in the super liberal college town I live in, isn't the first choice for our locals. Occasionally, we'll get some travelers and people who just have a craving for mediocre fettuccine alfredo.

let me start by describing the types of people who visit our lovely establishment. We have our 'virgin' guests, those who have never been to our chain. On the difficulty scale, they vary depending on how competent they are. They usually are here because someone gave them a giftcard. Hopefully, they won't ask you about everything on the menu, if not, I'm sorry.

next we have our lunch usuals. They are they guys who come by on their lunch break and since we all know them, they are allowed to get EVERYTHING special. They don't follow the rules. They are pretty nice and usually tip ok. Well, sometimes. . .

the elderly croud that comes by can be either really great or horrifically awful. Something I learned is that old people are easiest to deal with in small groups. The larger the group, the more you want to put your head in the oven. Tips from the elderly also vary, some still think 10% is enough to live on, and others give a little extra the more you talk with them.

the younger crowd is far worse than the elderly. In this town, finding a young person who's parents actually taught them how to behave in a restaurant are rarer than bigfoot. You both know that they don't have the money to be here, and they still insist on buying too much. If you get more than two dollars, its a miracle.

foreigners. . . Oh the foreigners. With this city being the cultural melting pot it is, its not uncommon for people of different cultures to visit. This is a good thing, and I love seeing the variety of people here. However, I wish someone told them how to tip. I'm not going to go into the details of each culture's problems, but let's just say, you're lucky if you get more than 10% on a $150 check.

a lot of other people visit, and depending on their needs, things can either go well, or end with disaster. A lot of people stay far too long for whatever reason, we call 'em "campers." If you have to work two shifts that day or if its busy and they are just taking up space, they are your worst enemy.

lastly, I'm going to end my rant tonight by ranting about tipping wage and tips.

by federal law, 'servers' get paid a tipping wage which is roughly 2/3 actual minimum wage. This requires servers to live of their tips, so if its a bad night or people are stingy, they suffer for it. Now, if the system worked correctly and everyone left 20% or more tips, it would be fine. But they don't, and it makes working at slow restaurants like ours difficult to have as an only source of income. Its a rough job, and I would love nothing more than to make actual minimum wage, that way, tipping wouldn't be mandatory and had a more stable income.

I really like this job, and I enjoy working here. I want to stay here and keep doing what I do. I wish I didn't have to rely on my guests to pay my wage. That's why I encourage everyone to treat your servers better, because they are people too.

a long time ago, I was talking with my godmother, and she told me one of her firm beliefs. People on salary and hourly wage have a steady income. They are also allowed to have bad days. Days where they are tired or sick or emotionally compromised, and they still get paid the same. A server is not allowed this luxury. If they have a bad day, their income is cut. If they make a mistake, it comes out of their pay. This is unfair to these people and they deserve better.

however, its a cultural problem, and it needs to be addressed.

ok. I'll get off my soap box now.

good night.

Fictional Representation of Emotions and Youthful Ambitions.

Today I'm going to talk about something a little close to home. Actually, close to home doesn't describe it right, because it is 'in my home' or at least, I'm my head. 

As an artist, its not uncommon for strange ideas and concepts to manifest themselves in different ways. For me, it is in my art that these 'beings' came to be. Let me explain. 

Back in my younger years, around 10th grade, I started trying out new drawing concepts and most of my works reflected my emotional state, and as a teenager, my emotional state was all over the place. Maybe it was the 'romantic troubles' that I got myself into that started it, or maybe it was the typical need for a 'darker' persona that almost every teenager gets. But after reading the famous manga by Clamp, Chobits, I was able to complete this 'inner me' and give her a name.

Freya. 

Fictional Representation of Emotions and Youthful Ambitions. (An accurate acronym for what she is).

After doing a little research and a lot of growing up, what Freya was to me then is completely different from how I consider her now. She hardly appears in my art anymore, mostly because I've dedicated most of my time to my story. However, when she does appear, it is usually with her new counterpart, Johan.

Journey Over Humanity And Nature. (The working acronym for him).

This 'persona' came about during my days in solitude. I had been watching the masterpiece knows as Monster (by Naoki Urasawa; its beautiful), and I was inspired by its main antagonist. This charismatic and brilliant character helped 'inspire' and 'awaken' another part of myself, which I was finally able to put on paper. Johan really became Freya's partner, and from that point on, I always drew them together.

The next year or so was quite and I pretty much had my life made out for me. A good friend of mine (who doesn't talk to me anymore) got me interested in Soul Eater (Atsushi Ohkubo). Now, I mentioned a little about it during my post about anime, and its concept of 'madness.' I did a lot of thinking, and in the process, I found this other. . . well, it's not a personal, more like a character at this point. . . But anyway, this is how Infinity came to be. Her name is a play on the character Zero from Code Geass. Mostly, when I draw her, actually, I don't really know, I just do. There's nothing to it, really. 

Finally, the last and most recent of the bunch is a currently unnamed 'persona.' She represents the more childish side of me (I guess). It's actually how I feel most comfortable, when I'm bothering my editor and rolling on the floor like a four year old. (Its too much fun not to). It's hopeful, cheerful, not really innocent, more like ignorant of the troubles of the adult world. Her inspiration was mostly from the type of relationship my editor and I have, and also the anime Clannad (go watch it and cry your hearts out!!!). That story of family, friendship, growing up and facing your childish past, understand and forgiveness and did I mention family? It's a great series, but mostly heart wrenching. 

The running names for her are:

Abbey (after my moosie (my fluffy cat) because she helps me feel all warm and fuzzy)

Makoto (the Japanese name meaning sincerity, also the 'human' name of Sailor Jupiter, who is my favorite).

Hope (I feel it's too generic)

Midori (Japanese for green, or maybe using another language's word for green)

And that's kind of it . . . 

These characters are ones that I use to describe how I feel or something deep in my life. None of them are me, but just a part of me, as I am a part of them. 

The four of them, Freya, Johan, Infinity, and Makoto (I guess). All with their respective 'colors'

(This isn't my favorite of my drawings of them, but its the only one I've really got.