Shady Job Offers Galore!

Today just made me want to pack it all in and sleep all day, living life as a bum. I woke up after 4 hours of sleep all excited about two job interviews I had lined up on my day off of work. I woke up early and drove to a pretty swanky hotel bar for an interview. After I finished signing my life away and telling my life story in the application, read their policies, etc, and met/spoke with the pretty cool manager (who was really French and either gay or metrosexual...who can tell, he's European). So, we get to talking...a lot...and I find he begins to go on and on about serving there. Um...I'm sorry, is this opening for a server or bartender? (Because I just got done talking to you about my bar experience and why I like bartending...) Apparently he misread my intentions. Damn. Double damn. So he asks if I still want to talk to HR because he would like to hire me. I say I'm going to hold off, but thanks. Lovely.
I rush back and change and head off to get my hair chopped. It's now at the crossing point between being cute/short and being butchy. I think she cut too much off. Eh, it'll grow back and it's summer, so I'll live with it. I get home and speed off to round two in the job hunt.
Same shit, different job. Selling webspace/ads to small restaurants...no thanks. But on top of that the interview is at a bar. I meet the guy who described himself as looking like Tom Cruise + 45 pounds (for real). Gag me. I laughed on the phone when I heard it, but I walked into the bar and he looked like a member of the Sopranos who happens to like yachting. He talked about his boat a lot...and how he liked to golf...and play tennis...etc. Oh, so you're rich, hey? Uh, that's cool. He's a sketchy middle aged man who is the closest talker I know. At one point his thigh was touching mine. And you can only scoot your ass so far off a barstool without falling off. I swear I wanted to die. On top of this I haven't eaten all day and got called in to work at 4, so I am not really paying attention to his gabbing. Aside from giving the bartenders the "help me" face, rambling thoughts going through my head were, "God...you talk too much. Are you going to get at what I am going to do for the company...hurry up, I'm hungry...STOP touching me. Man...I have to be at work in an hour...I really want a shot." His breath smelled, he kept touching his nose or face and then putting his hand on my shoulder or my chair. I got more attention/action than I've had in awhile and it was SCARY. I finally bailed an hour into the interview. I honestly think this one is up in the running with the time I drove out to Maryland to meet a guy for a gig and it ended up being in his apartment. Sketchy bastards.

Drip Dry Girl Ditches Spidey for a Night with Gotham's Finest

Lover's Quarrel
Originally uploaded by joy and pain.

I saw Batman tonight! It was unbelievably good. It's been a really long time since I've seen a movie that I've been dying to see since the first preview, that actually WAS GOOD. This movie kicked so much ass that I want to go see it again tomorrow. I know it'll probably take 7 years to make a new one...they will make a new one right? I hope they don't puss out now that they got me all excited.

In other news, I have been walking into a long, wispy, and annoying spiderweb on the way to my car every morning. I don't know what the spider is planning on doing, or why it picked my car as basecamp, but I destroy it if I can each morning, and am greeted by it again the following day. Why won't the damned spider just die? You'd think that at the speeds I drive, it wouldn't survive. Well, the bugger came out to show me he is indeed alive this morning as I was whipping around a curve going about 45 MPH. I started flailing around like a mad woman to get the thing back outside where it belongs and I think it may have met its demise. I'm crossing my fingers anyway...unless an original spider from God knows when spawned millions of babies that have some plot against me that begins each time I drive my car.
And last but not least, our house is being converted into a Laundr-o-mat, minus the dryers. Our washer died a couple weeks ago and last week the dryer decided to join its mate in purgutory or heaven or wherever appliances go to die. I don't know if the dryer couldn't live without its beyotch and died of a broken heart, or if it killed her out of spite, but we have laundry piled up all over the house now due to its breakdown. Every banister and railing has something drying on it. I can't walk around my room without seeing clothes clinging on door knobs, hanging from my shower, etc. It's fun stuff. I hope our replacement comes soon. The new washer needs a companion that isn't a loon.
I have tomorrow off from all the crazies at the bar and I can't wait. I have drinking with a friend set up so I can "write my article" on boozing...so the day sounds like it'll rock, I just hope my laundry dries in 15 hours so I can go out...

Sangria Toting Fool Slices and Dices her Way to a Hangover

I don't know if it was the booze talking (I think I woke up semi-drunk) or if I was just feeling utterly stupid, but I answered an early phone call from a frantic manager and agreed to switching from a night shift to a morning shift (! Stupid!) because one of the new servers twisted her ankle and called out...Ok...I talked to this girl and she got another job right after she was hired at our place...so I highly doubt she twisted an ankle...I bet she's on the other side of town pimping her perfectly normal ankles to make a buck. I walk in and another new server who is the polar opposite of me (major charicteristic being that she doesn't talk...at all...) decides she hates it and quits on the spot. So...if I didn't go in, the manager would have had to do it all. That would have been great. I should have said no. Instead I got to deal with a bunch of crabby customers and chat up strangers at the end of my shift at the bar.
On a happier note, I have taken up the request to write an article all about sangria...nice. Downside, am I paying for the drinks before hand? Because something tells me that I will be in the negative if I sport the tab for the drinks and get paid 5 cents a word for my troubles. If you could call that trouble. I don't think there's that much I can say about sangria to make 5 cents a word add up...Regardless I spent my first night on the town with some girl friends of mine and we had a lot of fun. Didn't like the sangria, which inspired me to make my own so I'd have something to compare and get additional fluff for the article, like recipes maybe.
So...I made white sangria...not my best decision in life. I bought a shitload of fruits, and spent a long ass time chopping away at them, which was actually a lot of fun because I enjoyed my new favorite band, The Bravery* while slaving in the kitchen. I cut up the following: pineapple, watermellon, an apple, orange, lemon, lime, grapes, strawberries, and a nectarine! That's a helluva lot of fruit. But the kicker was the wine. I mixed a nice white wine with brandy, vodka, and gingerale...and woke up with a splitting headache and the quality bathroom time too. I can't handle the white wine...No mas...No mas...
*Speaking of The Bravery...Great band. I like them a lot and can't wait to see them live when they come to DC. Should be a good time.
I believe most of our crap is dead and gone at home...the estate sale is over and my mom probably has more nickels and loose change than she knows what to do with. I am so glad I wasn't there to watch people go through our stuff and haggle. I probably would have slapped someone. And finally, does anyone know the name of Annie's dog? (Little curly, red haired Annie).