A Mixed Brew of Whiskey, Gambling, and the Consentual Loss of Hair.

I got a new hair cut today. And I really really like it. I am jumping on the "my hair flips out" train, as the bob cut that I've had since I was 3 is getting old. It's got to be a girl thing, but it feels so good to walk around with a nice new cut after it's styled. Why is it so hard to do it ourselves? I don't know. But I proceeded to walk around Pentagon City Mall buying some Christmas presents and then got drenched walking to my car and said adios to the new 'do. But those 40 minutes felt pretty good.

I have decided to lay low on the drink for awhile. Drinking alone waiting for your friend to get off work isn't always a good thing when you are drinking whiskey...for 3 hours. So...I either need a new and SAFE drink, or should just leave well enough alone and just breathe plain old air and drink some good old fashioned water for awhile. At least until Saturday, when I go to what is supposed to be a pretty big party.

In other news, my brother is in Vegas. I hope he gave our mother his ATM and credit cards, because that is bound to be a dangerous city for someone who would clear his buddies out of all his quarters every week and would drive a couple hours at the drop of a hat to go hit up a casino for kicks when I have to be up in 5 hours to fly back to DC...
Doug, at 11pm when I have a 7am departure back to DC, "Joy...why don't we skip the bar and drive up to the casino for awhile...I'll get you back in time to get to the airport..."
Me, "Um...why don't you come visit ME and we'll drive up to AC, I need a beer."

And that's all I have. I have less hair, can't hold my liquor, and am stuck waiting at work for the promotion or the go ahead to get another job...

I'm Rick James, Bitch!

I'm Rick James, Bitch!
Originally uploaded by joy and pain.

Ah. And even white families are milking the Rick James fun for all it's worth.

Burrito War is Getting Ugly in Arlington

Burrito War
Originally uploaded by joy and pain.

We all know I am wishy washy. And I mean that going to Baskin Robbins poses a challenge to me as I have too many choices. I can't do it and it stresses me out. My parents like to point that out whenever we pass one, because I pissed them off as a kid whenever we went there because it took 20 minutes for me to pick out a flavor. And then I'd be mad cause I'd get something stupid like bubble gum ice cream. And have a dilema about if I should save the gum...or swallow it. What are you supposed to do with it? Get an extra cup to spit it out and then eat it afterward? AND the gum was rock hard cause it was frozen. So you have the dilema of what to chew and what to save, and you have to weigh options like teeth over that 2 seconds of enjoyment with the gum...I always started chewing it while chowing down on the ice cream...and I'd swallow it on accident. I'd have a pained look on my face while concentrating hard not to swallow the gum, which backfired. And my Dad told me that gum stays in your stomach for 7 years after you swallow it, so it should be all out by now, since I haven't touched the stuff in ages. I hope they got rid of that flavor. But if I worked at Baskin Robbins I'd totally upsell the bubble gum ice cream. That'll teach those rug rats about choices and how you should always get plain old chocolate. Anyways...segueing to work.

So, it's happening again with work. I am perfect when it comes to telling other people what to do with their lives, but piss poor at my own.
I am divided between the world of burritos and drunken sots...I have my friends telling me to move on and go bartend or serve. Valid point. I really miss the bartending, and serving would be a brainless job for me at this point. No stress. But I have the burrito peeps telling me to stick it out, help is on the way, things are going to be great in a week or two...
What to do...If I stuck it out and treated this as a "career" I could be doing district management/corporate stuff down the road. But I mean down the road...DOWN the road like all the way to China, but I can't quit jobs every 6 months like I am 16 and feel I should stick it out for the advancement.

So...I will continue to bitch in hopes that I will get 31 options available and then the choices will really kill me, but hopefully I can get a cherry on top and maybe some sprinkles, but no stupid bubble gum.

Burrito Slinger Looking at Options

Should I stay or should I go? I have no clue what I should do about work. I know I complain a lot, and I mean A LOT. And I know that I have been making it my life's mission lately to get Theo out of the restaurant, by fixing all his problems and taking over the GM position. BUT, am I going to get it officially, with the money and all? Cause for right now, I am doing most of the shit work and taking on all the stress without the green to back it up. Anyways...So should I pursue a job waiting tables??? And wait for a bartending position to open up? I am just going to wind up complaining about something else, cause I suck at seeing the roses. And whenever I leave a job based on not moving up to where I want to be, I find that if I stuck it out, things would have gotten better in time. So I don't want to dick out on work right now cause they really need the help, and their employees all come to me with problems and are waiting for me to fix stuff for them. I like that part of the job. I love having "employees" and want to make them happy and work with them and fix problems, etc. I'd feel like a major cop out by leaving when they are getting dicked over my Theo...but my worrying about them isn't paying my bills.

So, that's my current dilema. Should I stay, or should I go?

Someone come up with a great and elaborate story for my weekend too, cause all I did was help someone move for 2 days and when I get to work I am going to get a lot of questions about my drunken birthday madness (that never happened), so I need some help with that one. Anyway...microsoft paint pics to follow, soon.

The Beattie Clan Continues to Age in Record Time

Happy Birthday, Doug.
Doug does not read my blog. But I wished Donny a Happy Birthday, so I have to wish Doug one too. Or I'd be a beyotch.
I love all my siblings. But Doug and I...well, Doug and I are something else.
I moved out of the house when I was 18, Doug was 16. And he was pissed off that I left. But I never really understood why he was pissed, as we were fighting like hell froze over for a LONG ASS time before I left...yet, he was really mad that I packed up and moved across the US. Regardless, we've always been close. Even with the fighting and now that we can drink together, it's even better and I know that if I lived at home I would spend as much time as possible hanging out with him, because we both are sarcastic and fun. Regardless, Doug told me for years, and I mean YEARS...that he didn't drink. "I don't need to drink. Why should I make myself look stupid?" This is his answer to my asking if he drinks...Um. Ok, Doug. Whatever. Then I go home to visit a few years back and we go out drinking. Surprise. Surprise. I say I'm buying the drinks. Cause at the time, I actually had money. So. I say I am buying and it's going to be GM, because that's what I drink. He says he'll drink, but he only drinks Jack Daniels and he will only drink if I drink, and it has to be Jack Daniels. And he will only drink a shot if I drink the same shot with him. Fuck. Fuckin-A. I don't DO Jack Daniels. Ever. But I can't look like a big pussy in front of my little brother. So I caved. And this is the story I tell everyone when I talk about Doug. He's on his way to GM in a pretty big restaurant in the big cow state known as Wisconsin. Doug's Birthday is Nov 3 and mine is Nov 6, and he is 2 years younger than me. Growing up, he'd tell me (on his birthday, and for 2 days afterward) that he was only one year younger than me. I would get SO MAD, because we fought about everything. And good god, he's NOT one year younger, he's 2, so shut up! And I mean everything. So, this is what I think about whenever it's his birthday. I count down til mine, where I can be two yers ahead again. When I get full of wrinkles and am a mean ass ho bag I will finally agree with him and tell him that he's only one year behind me. Love you Doug, and can't wait to join you for a Jack Daniels. Happy Birthday.