my christmas eve had no crackling fire, no cocoa, no nat king cole, no ribbon and bow. it was spent asking people if they'd like to add a half pound of snow crab legs to their meal for an additional $6.99. these were bitter people who had spent the last three hours in the mall purchasing last minute gifts for their ungrateful spawn - and now they're plopped down in my section; exhausted, grumpy, and broke. the christmas spirit was certainly not residing in their wallets on this particular holy night. that evening my alcohol sales were at an all time high, while my tips were at an all time low.
people were overly rude, ultra demanding, and extra cheap. everything in me just wanted to get out of there and go home. my holiday cheer rapidly shifted from "bye! have a nice christmas!" at the beginning of the night to simply "bye." towards the end.
i clocked out and realized i was starving. knowing full well that my kitchen is devoid of any real food, i drove to the grocery store. closed. jack in the box? closed. mcDonalds? closed. fine! i'll just go home and order pizza. dominoes? closed. pizza hut? closed.
after a lengthy, primal scream into my pillow i collected myself, threw on a hoodie, and drove to denny's. while en route i had set my mind to the fact that if this particular restaurant was closed, there was going to be an arson investigation the next morning.
luckily for all parties involved, they were open. i enjoyed my stack of pancakes and over-cooked eggs alongside the other orphans and degenerates of my fair city. i left a 25% tip to carlito, wished him a genuine merry christmas, and called it a night.
then this christmas morning i woke up to a 70 degree sun, palm trees, a barking dog, and what distinctly sounded like shots being fired in the distance. this is the first christmas since my birth that wasn't spent with my family and while it would have been nice to have the smell of coffee cake and evergreen needles wafting into my bedroom as i awoke - i'm an adult. this isn't candyland and i'm nearly 30 years old. plus i got to see all of my family last month and never one for sappy sentiment i convinced myself, "it's just another tuesday. get over it."
yet after hearing "the christmas song" play on the radio i was overcome with a intense wave of emotion. i missed home and i missed my family even more. i wasn't in the mood to actually break down and cry at this point; so i walked into the kitchen, chugged the egg nog directly from the carton, popped some vitamin C pills, and watched the discovery channel for the rest of the afternoon.
12.23.2007
viruses, warning lamps, and man vs machine
it's the end of an era. it shames me to admit it...but i'm sick. for those of you who don't have an extensive knowledge of my medical history; i haven't been sick in ten years. my immune system is mystical and ancient in its powers. i don't do anything to enhance it, i don't questions it's strength; i just know that it's there...and it kicks ass.
over the years, upon discovering my little secret, those around me began to grow suspicious of my claim. every winter while everyone is miserably gulping theraflu and munching on cough drops, i'm cheerfully whistling christmas carols through my phlegm-free windpipe. inevitably suspicion would brew into hatred as co-workers began blatantly lowering their hand when coughing into my airspace in a savage attempt to take me down. which to me is comparable to a person with AIDS purposefully cutting their finger and smearing the infected blood on everyone's lips in order to 'even things out'. and so, this went on for years as no one was able to attack my impenetrable hoard of white blood cells.
to further the mystique i would occasionally act as a circus barker; having everyone gather around as i dramatically took a swig from some sickie's water bottle. there would be a single gasp in the crowd followed by manic whispering.
"how does he do it?"
"i heard he has cybernetic lung implants."
"i heard he's from the future."
my illness-free streak soon grew into legend. that is...until i moved to lovely california. as far as i'm concerned, whatever God forsaken virus that has penetrated my system has to be on par with the Bubonic Plague.
put another tally mark under "reasons why i love california".
my 'check engine' light decided to make an appearance last week. that's the one light on the dashboard that causes a knot to immediately form in the pit of my stomach. it induces the same biological response as red and blue lights in your rear view mirror - a queasy dropping feeling followed by a rushing surge of adrenaline.
i think the fear lies in the lack of certainty. all the other warning lights use friendly nudges and reminders.
the oil change light comes on?
okay thanks! i'll get it done next week.
low fuel light? it's cool! there's a gas station down the street. wiper fluid low? not a problem! i've got some windex at home.
but when that 'check engine' light flicks on, you're immediately thrown into a code red situation. it could be anything - engine is currently engulfed in flames, gasoline is spewing onto roadway, radiator has just exploded. am i in imminent danger? should i pull over? will i make it home tonight? it induces such intense anxiety because it's so vague.
yet, once the initial panic subsides, it eventually dawns on you that anything needing repair within the enigmatic "engine" will likely cost anywhere from $800-$8000. perhaps it would be more honest and less jarring if a large green dollar sign was shown on the display instead.
so i decided on a bold course of action; to stand firm and call it's bluff. each day when i turned the key it would illuminate and icily stare me down. "i will not be intimidated by you, red warning lamp! quit looking at me!"
this charade continued for days; until this morning when i turned the ignition. apparently my will was stronger than the Jetta's - the check engine light didn't come on. victory! in man VS machine, the machine blinked. then it occurred to me that it's probably just lying dormant until i'm stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on the 405; at which time it will re-illuminate a millisecond before smoke comes billowing out from under my hood.
over the years, upon discovering my little secret, those around me began to grow suspicious of my claim. every winter while everyone is miserably gulping theraflu and munching on cough drops, i'm cheerfully whistling christmas carols through my phlegm-free windpipe. inevitably suspicion would brew into hatred as co-workers began blatantly lowering their hand when coughing into my airspace in a savage attempt to take me down. which to me is comparable to a person with AIDS purposefully cutting their finger and smearing the infected blood on everyone's lips in order to 'even things out'. and so, this went on for years as no one was able to attack my impenetrable hoard of white blood cells.
to further the mystique i would occasionally act as a circus barker; having everyone gather around as i dramatically took a swig from some sickie's water bottle. there would be a single gasp in the crowd followed by manic whispering.
"how does he do it?"
"i heard he has cybernetic lung implants."
"i heard he's from the future."
my illness-free streak soon grew into legend. that is...until i moved to lovely california. as far as i'm concerned, whatever God forsaken virus that has penetrated my system has to be on par with the Bubonic Plague.
put another tally mark under "reasons why i love california".
my 'check engine' light decided to make an appearance last week. that's the one light on the dashboard that causes a knot to immediately form in the pit of my stomach. it induces the same biological response as red and blue lights in your rear view mirror - a queasy dropping feeling followed by a rushing surge of adrenaline.
i think the fear lies in the lack of certainty. all the other warning lights use friendly nudges and reminders.
the oil change light comes on?
okay thanks! i'll get it done next week.
low fuel light? it's cool! there's a gas station down the street. wiper fluid low? not a problem! i've got some windex at home.
but when that 'check engine' light flicks on, you're immediately thrown into a code red situation. it could be anything - engine is currently engulfed in flames, gasoline is spewing onto roadway, radiator has just exploded. am i in imminent danger? should i pull over? will i make it home tonight? it induces such intense anxiety because it's so vague.
yet, once the initial panic subsides, it eventually dawns on you that anything needing repair within the enigmatic "engine" will likely cost anywhere from $800-$8000. perhaps it would be more honest and less jarring if a large green dollar sign was shown on the display instead.
so i decided on a bold course of action; to stand firm and call it's bluff. each day when i turned the key it would illuminate and icily stare me down. "i will not be intimidated by you, red warning lamp! quit looking at me!"
this charade continued for days; until this morning when i turned the ignition. apparently my will was stronger than the Jetta's - the check engine light didn't come on. victory! in man VS machine, the machine blinked. then it occurred to me that it's probably just lying dormant until i'm stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on the 405; at which time it will re-illuminate a millisecond before smoke comes billowing out from under my hood.
12.07.2007
drizzle, downpour, and the Live Mega Doppler 7000 HD
it's raining right now. actually, i believe the technical term is 'drizzle'. coming from Seattle, there are a dozen different terms for the varying degrees of precipitation in the air at any given time; rain, sprinkle, showers, downpour, fog, flurries, and drizzle - to name a few. so, considering it rains once every six months here, it's always amusing to watch the local news when there's rain in the forecast. once the leathery-skinned meteorologist suggests a hint of rain, every news promo 48 hours prior to the big event go something like this:
"a dramatic change in the weather! your family's life could be at risk. tune in at 11!"
the entire city is thrown into red-alert mode as if were an impending tsunami headed right for us! high wave warnings are immediately put into effect (which incidentally only affect the stoner-surfer demographic) and reporters are put on location wearing rain slickers and bright yellow ponchos that are normally reserved for crab fisherman in the north atlantic.
i look out my window, see a light drizzle, and yawn. but when i turn on the news, it's a completely different picture. they are in complete lockdown mode. STORMTRACKER '07! we are shown minute by minute updates on the Live Mega Doppler 7000 HD; which sounds like some cheesy futuristic device from a classic episode of Star Trek.
what a joke. give me a call when there's enough rain to actually wash the bird crap off my car (pictured on right). until then, simmer down LA and enjoy your trace amounts of acid rain.
but to my astonishment, it's actually been a little chilly lately. this evening i exhaled and actually saw my breath, although that just as well could have been a mini smog cloud hovering perilously close to my lips. that would explain the burning sensation when i inhaled.
i was pleasantly surprised to find that it actually does dip below 96 degrees in the wintertime.
i can't wait for christmas eve and palm trees. stupid california.
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