no weekend, no cry

i ended up having to cover part of a shift on saturday and an entire shift on sunday at the training center. having to be there at 10:45 isn't THAT early, but i want to level with you, internet, that when the single thing you love most about your weekends is that you can and will get up whenever you damn well please, it sucks. also i like to sleep as close to 12 hours as i can manage at least one night a week. and i tend to really enjoy my anti-social days. unless i call my sister, on a weekend day i might only talk to the starbucks person, my cat and / or myself. i like it. i get really into some music and read most of a book and walk around the east village and debate with myself if i should get thing terrible to eat or just wait until i am home to eat something terrible there. or i do something totally different, because i can. now i am at work and feel like i didn't get a weekend. don't get me wrong, i actually had a lot of fun chatting with people at the offices, and i got a mere handful of annoying calls about ASSSSSSSCAT. and i got a lot of reading done. but it didn't feel very weekendy, and last weekend was weird too, with the holiday, and i just need a break.

i almost got into a fight with a rude bitch of a bartender last night. i book a lot of shows at the parkside lounge, mostly because on of my BFFs from college does all their booking and i also love the staff. unfortunately, last night i didn't know anyone working and the bartender working later in the evening gave me some huge attitude about turning the music down in the front of the bar. it was SUPER loud in the back (someone had turned the bass way up, which was part of the problem; bass travels more) and her bitchy retort to me (nicely) asking them to turn the music down was that they had a bar to run. no fucking way, lady, i know, that's why the two comedy shows you have scheduled tonight brought 60 plus people to your PREVIOUSLY EMPTY BAR. there were 3 people there who weren't either performing or attending the shows, and of those three, only one was a patron of the bar, the other two were staff people. i was livid, but tried to be bigger about it, and explain the situation to her again after i'd cooled down. she suggested that i mic the stage (i explained that it wasn't possible) so she just fucking pulled out that they had a bar to run again, and that they'd turned the music down twice already. which wasn't true; they'd turned it down once when i'd asked and then she'd turned it back up about 2/3s of the way through my show. i was pissed again, nearly froze to death walking to the train, and i think almost got into a fight with some mexican dude who thought i was calling him a cunt. obviously, i emailed my awesome friend to tattle on the bitch.

>breathe< i stopped by whole foods and bought a serving of ginger bread with toffee ginger sauce and vanilla ice cream. it helped!

i saw part of a show on TLC called 'living as a giant' and during the course of the show, a guy who'd been measured as 7'5" was measured by a doctor who declared him 6'10"; he looked so miserable that i had to change the channel out of embarrassment. apparently his spine might have curved, but i think even a super tall guy like would have noticed losing 7 inches in height. shudder. i will also change the channel when watching the soup do segments on andy rooney or that willard scott because their old-person social ineptitude and weirdness embarrasses me. so... i guess what i am saying is that i never want to meet willard scott.

sorry, this isn't a funny, clever, uplifting or even particularly cohesive post. there's not really even any point to it, i am just bitching. i am going to put this out of me here, so that when i see you i will be lovely and happy and interested in you, cool? i don't really care, i am doing it anyway.