Thursday, October 29, 2009

On the other hand

Oh, but I just remembered that I got paid today, so I'm currently the proud owner of £129 in cash. And I don't have to work all day tomorrow. It's gonna be okay.

Five degrees

I am currently five degrees of separation away from Zach Braff. I live with a guy who is sort of managing a musician who is dating a singer who is staying at Zach Braff's house while touring with Josh Radin, Zach Braff's best friend. Nifty, huh?

Tonight, I got scolded pretty badly at work. It was humiliating...and all a mistake. I was off at 7, so when another waiter signed on at 7, I headed out the door. I was a few steps away from the pub when the manager on duty called me back and asked who I had asked if I could leave. I hadn't told any managers I was leaving, so I stammered an apology. He berated me for a little while, and then I asked if it was okay if I leave, and he said normally it would be, but he was actually training another girl so he needed me on the floor. This was all said very angrily. So I followed him back into the pub with my tail between my legs, past the general manager and all the people I'd just said goodbye to, took off my sweatshirt and hung up my purse, and went downstairs to grab my apron out of the laundry basket. I went back upstairs and started tying my apron on while looking for my till key when the MOD came back in saying, "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were scheduled to be off at 7." He was embarrassed and felt like a jackass and told me I could of course leave, so I did. But all the way home, my heart was pounding. I feel like the jackass, but maybe that's just because I hate being scolded. I know there's something psychologically wrong with me that instead of focusing on the fact that I did nothing wrong, all I can focus on is the fact that I got scolded, but I don't know how to change that. Ugh, what a horrible feeling.

I came home and decided I needed a drink, but the opener thing on my can of pear cider broke off so I had to jam it open with a spoon...did not help my stress level.

So now it's just before 9pm and I'm alone and a little bit tipsy. But not happy tipsy. Stressed and PMS tipsy. Not quite so fun. Perhaps another episode of Gossip Girl will cure that.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Friends and family day!

Today was a very special day. An historic day, really. Today, the first Anthropologie in the United Kingdom opened its doors and cash registers to friends and family of employees. Since I am the significant other of an employee (wink wink), I got to go and preview the store. Woohoo!

I was going to do a whole photo story for you lovely folks back home, but then I forgot my camera. So I did one afterwards! I carefully thought out my wardrobe (okay, not that carefully, but you can see that I made an effort).

In the next photo, imagine that I'm pointing out a giant papier mache sperm whale hanging from the ceiling (but made with fabric instead of paper).

Now imagine that this picture of my bed is actually a picture of gorgeous Anthropologie bed set atop several logs of firewood (yes, the London Anthrop is catering to those Londoners who live out in the woods).

(New sheets courtesy of Patricia and Lars! I'll miss you guys.)

To be perfectly frank (am I ever anything else?), I found the store slightly disappointing. I guess I was expecting something more like the downtown Seattle store, but this is Regents Street in London, where everything is polished and top quality. While they sold the same items I'm used to and the store was full of artsy touches (i.e. giant sperm whale), I found it a bit too fancy for my tastes. I mean, that's not to say I won't be spending lots of time and money there!

I didn't buy anything today because my S.O. forgot to grab my special discount card, but I did identify several items that I simply can't live without. Well, I suppose I could live without them, but I am going to buy a very pretty (and horrifically overpriced) t-shirt for work. It's a marginally reasonable price with the discount.

Oh yeah. I have a job. Waitressing. Ugh. I looked for waitressing jobs because I didn't realize just how ridiculous the tipping system is in this country. I'll have to see whether the amount I make is actually worth the stress.

Here is me with empty hands (my wallet is happy).

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Preemie head size

How big is a premature babies head? Or rather, just how small?

My favorite organization ever, Partners in Health, sent out a call for knitted caps to put on the heads of babies born in their clinic in the mountains of Rwanda. Of course, I couldn't resist, and promptly took up needles and wool to knit a hat using the pattern for preemies. But I'm not sure it's supposed to be this small.

Is a preemie baby's head as small as my fist? Or just larger than the top of a water bottle?

I hung out with Izzi and Tim and all their school buddies last week. I had a great time, but ended up going to a pub with a random boy who then asked me if he could be homeless on my floor. Weird. Tim mentioned that he enjoyed it when I referred to him on my blog and I said, "When did I mention you? Oh, you mean a year ago?" But then he said he hadn't read my blog in a while, so I promised I'd mention him so that he'd start reading it again. He specifically asked that I mention his [something] face, but now I can't remember what adjective he used. Pretty? Sexy? Funny? So there you are Tim, I have mentioned your pretty/sexy/funny face. Now you're like a celebrity!...among my mom and my sisters.

Friday, October 02, 2009


Two updates in one day! Wowsers! I must be really bored.

Yes, in fact I am really bored! I've been very needy as a result, constantly texting my friends to see who wants to come play with me. No one ever does :-(

Just kidding. I saw Holly this afternoon. She's moved back home to Sussex, so I don't see her as often as I used to, though she comes in to London a few days a week. I went in to school to meet her, and we discovered that the school had cleared out all the lockers to make room for next year's students. The put all the stuff people had left in their lockers on top of the lockers. Now, I never got a locker cuz I lived so close to school, but Alex had a locker. They were supposed to clear them out and return their keys weeks ago, but Alex never did. Her locker was jam-packed, as full as it could possibly be, and even had some of Holly's stuff in it. So Holly grabbed her own stuff from the top of the lockers, and we texted Alex to tell her. The stuff she had in there was data she'd collected for her summer project in Africa, so was kind of important.

I hung around the area for a little while doing some shopping, but as I was about to head home (which is now far from school), Alex texted back and said her stuff was really important and could I just pop it back into the locker. Well, no, the point of them cleaning out the lockers was so your stuff wouldn't be in there anymore! So I decided, since it was important to her (and I was mean and hurt her feelings on Saturday so owed her), I would grab the stuff and take it home with me. It only weighed, oh, 80 pounds. My arms feel like jelly. Er, jell-o. Dammit, those Brits are getting to me with their weird words!

But here's the thing: what goes around, comes around. As I was lugging a hundred pounds of Alex's stuff across London without her realizing it, she was listing me as her significant other so that I would have access to her amazing employee discount at Fancy-pants Store Which Must Not Be Named. Score!! I get my own card and everything, and no, I can't let you use it or Alex gets fired, just like that. So if anyone asks, I am dating Alex.

Thursday, October 01, 2009


I'm trying to have a more positive outlook on life. Becky has been picking on me for years for always immediately saying "no" to stuff without giving it a chance. Recently, Alex told me that she was talking to our friend, Kate, and said "Kusems doesn't like the second Harry Potter book," to which Kate responded, "Does Kusems like anything?" Alex meant it as a funny anecdote, but it is definitely something I need to work on, the fact that I complain about everything and reject most things outright. Alex suggested the other day that the kind of boy I need is a Southern gentleman, and I scoffed outright before even hearing her out (also before remembering that she's Southern, so to scoff at Southern things is a bit of an insult to her).

There's a story arc in the British show "Skins" (fantastic show, by the way!) in which two of the characters make a deal with each other that they will be more positive. One of them is required to say "yes" to everything presented to her. So I've been thinking about that lately and I decided I need to stop saying "no" to things right off the bat without giving them a chance.

I went and dropped off resumes at a few local bars on Monday, and one of them asked me to return Tuesday for an interview. The interview consisted of the manager telling me that I have way too many brains and talking really fast about nonsense. He told me that he was having to prosecute some of his "Eastern European" employees for sticky fingers. The only question he asked me was whether I thought I could manage not to rob the till. I thought I could manage. So he had me back in yesterday for a three-hour trial shift, and at the end, he offered me a job. It's minimum wage and it's doubtful I'll make any tips (I made 6 pence in tips in three hours yesterday). I said I'd take it and he told me to come in today with passport and work visa and bank account info to set up direct deposit.

I was all ready to do that, but this morning, I chickened out. Going back to my new positive outlook, I tried to talk myself up and say, "Just do it. If you get a higher paying job next week, you can leave this one." But my gut was fighting it. It didn't feel right. I called Holly because she is imminently wise, even though I knew what she was going to say, and in the end, I called the guy and told him I wasn't gonna take the job. I felt a bit bad for saying "no" instead of "yes" in the end, but then I realized that I had given it a fair chance. I said "yes" to begin with when I dropped off the resume and did the trial shift. And I feel infinitely more peaceful knowing I don't have to go back into that place and work. (It was a super cheap sports bar, though decorated nicely enough, full of elderly alcoholics.) It wasn't right for me. I'm pretty sure I can do better and earn more.

Also, he wanted me to come and work on Sunday because it's a football game day, and I completely forgot that Sunday is Holly's birthday party. I knew her birthday was Sunday, and I knew I'd be working Sunday, and I've thought and talked about both without ever realizing they were the same day. Space cadet.

Okay, this means I need to drop off more resumes. TTFN!


Holly took Alex and me to Bath last week (finally!) She used to live and work there, and her two cousins lived there with her, but one of them is moving to Australia, so she had a big "leaving do" (going away party). The city is GORGEOUS! if a bit resort-y. At the party, I started chatting to a bobsledder who went by the name "Swifty," and then we danced together. I think he could tell it wasn't gonna go anywhere, though, and as soon as the lights came up, he bunked off. Fine, whatever.

And then last night Holly received a text from her cousin that said:

"Kusems snogged Swifty!"

Has a charming ring to it, doesn't it? Holly turned to me and asked, "Did you snog Swifty?" We had already discussed the whole evening, and she'd been there anyway, but I reassured her that I had not, in fact, snogged Swifty. Still, I think that sentence will haunt me forever. He couldn't have been called Jack or Tom or Louie, could he? It had to be Swifty. There had to be a question of whether I had or had not made out with someone called...Swifty.

He was cute, though. And ripped.