McDonald's, Pina Colladas, and the 4 Train.

It's Saturday afternoon and I'm leaving work. I'm in a bigger hurry to catch the 4 train than usual cause I have a pina collada in my bag and the image of me sipping it while I'm ignoring my fellow passengers is giving life right now.

This work week has been trying to say the least with canceled shifts, computer malfunctions, and Republicans in general. Also the Democrats...you know what? I hate them all (Disney Princesses should not become political analysis) but the piña colada made it all okay (well, almost). 

It wasn't the piña colada itself, I've been drinking them since I was old enough to reach the blender, it was the way in which said piña colada was acquired. Men in dark corners slipping dubious vials to questionable maidens before rushing off into the night...(my co-worker brought me a drink because I challenged him to). 

Anyway, point is, I'd had a hell of a week and a clandestine alcoholic beverage in my bag and all I had to do to exchange one for the other was grab a seat on the 4. The entire population of Iowa and Wisconsin stopping dead center in the sidewalk to take pictures of badly costumed characters, getting caught up in the bright lights of the big city, while I dodge them in pursuit of my drink. I am seconds from the Times Sq subway entrance when I feel it...the rumble in the pit of my stomach. 

It occurs to me that I haven't eaten all day, with the exception of half a donut and some coffee. I took the black tumbler out of my bag and inhaled, strong! This on an empty stomach probably wouldn't be the best idea. Ugh! Food! Now! Where? Where? Hot dog stand? The guy manning it has green gloves. Somehow I don't think it's a fashion statement. Where the hell am I gonna....MickeyDs. Why not. It's fast, it's food (sort of). 

I enter McDonald's which has apparently become pizza planet with none of the charm. Order kiosks, one dimensional characters, lighting that could land a 747, what did I used to love about this place again? A kid ran by pulling a cheap piece of plastic out of a happy meal box. Sigh. If only happiness still came out of a box. Oh wait, now it comes out of a bottle, or, more to the point, a black thermos. Now, on to the 4 train...

The Nerve of Some People's Parents!

The commute was a nightmare. From W.35th street to Bedford Park at a maddening pace. Then on to Whisky House, for my Aunt Colleen's retirement party....If only I could get out of the friggin Bronx! Seriously, it took 20 mins to get from Bedford Park to Woodlawn. Two stops. 20 mins. Also, I hadn't eaten all day so when I got there I wanted two things; food and a drink. Not necessarily in that order. No, wait. Exactly in that order. However, the first person I see when I walk through the door is my Aunt Brenda who exclaims "Happy birthday! You NEED a drink!" So, I got a drink and I was going to order food but my mother insisted that everyone was getting ready to leave so I was better off eating at home. Sound advice. After all, the festivities started at 4:30 and here it was 7 or so. So I sat there, took a few pictures, and waited to go home so I could eat. And sat. And sat. And sat. My aunt suggested I order food. Twice. But my mom kept insisting that we were leaving, and we did. I went home and ate boiled noodles w\garlic & butter (an awesome meal, don't get me wrong), assured that the party was over.

Well, it wasn't over. Apparently some people stayed. My sister. Some cousins. And my Aunt Brenda. They had fun. Lotsa fun. And alcohol. And FOOD. Good food. Wings and shit. I LOVE wings! Apparently they played jenga. They made a 32 block (or whatever) tower! 

So. Fun and games. Literally. And where was I? At home. Watching the news (because my mom won't turn it off).

Honestly, the nerve of some people's parents.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Thow A Mug...

Apparantly, she threw a tantrum. The girl on the bus. She was talking to...someone about how she and her sister took their dad's favorite mug (apparently he's had it forever) out to their back yard for an impromptu game of catch (In an attempt to relieve some pressure?).

How this idea materialized, I have no idea but points for creativity! I'm not sure anyone's ever played catch with a coffee mug... (Okay, in the interest of honesty, I've never played catch, period. Me and athletic ability have not been on speaking terms, ever).

I couldn't decide if this woman was batshit crazy, or brilliant because honestly, as much as maturity, logic, and rationality suggests otherwise....sometimes you just gotta throw a mug....

Disney Heels....and Pat Shout-Outs

First of all....I'm Backkkkk! And you have Patrick Helmsley (who?) to thank. Pat Helmsey is this good looking (says my mom) firefighter who is married to sweet Sara Osorio (in the cousin crew) and, aparantly reads this blog! (Thus proving firefighters have a lot of time on their hands).

Anyway, what up Pat? Good looking out! Next time I set the church kitchen on fire (I wish I was joking) i'll expect you there!

Okay, now that that's out of the way, on to the real issues plaguing my life; Where do I get Mickey Mouse heels?? And, for that matter, Charlotte Olympia ice cream heels. 

Okay, I know where to get Charlotte Olympia heels:

https://www.neimanmarcus.com/Charlotte-Olympia-Ice-Cream-Cone-Heel-d-Orsay-Pump-Pastel/prod161990071/p.prod

But this still leaves me with an issue. Two, in fact. The first is the price. $450? On shoes? Uh... But I bought my sister Kylie Louboutins for Christmas so... The second is 7in heels. Or maybe 6. Whatever. Point is, no way in hell I can walk in those. I just figured out how to walk in regular heels without looking like a toddler playing dress-up (I hope). In those? Hahahahaha...no. Now Mickey Mouse heels on the other hand....

$165 on Etsy. (https://www.etsy.com/listing/579434849/mickey-mouse-ear-disney-multi-glitter?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=disney%20heels&ref=sr_gallery-2-19). I could do that...

Ugh, there is so much I could do with $165. Buy a shit load of Writing Rainbow supplies, I could throw a killer end of session with that kind of money! And then there's saving for a house, I really want to move by Jan, and fix my car (and finally get a driver's licence), and help my mom and, and, and....but I really want the Disney heels...

How to Work on Wall Street and Still be a Good Person

http://brokeassstuart.com/ny/2016/12/05/how-to-work-on-wall-street-still-be-a-good-person/

You (Don't) Get What You Pay For

We are a capitalist society. Fueled by the notion that 'greed is good' and 'more is more' and, you know what? I'm fine with that. People will try to tell you that our society is materialistic and that wanting things, even if you work hard for them, is bad and if you indulge in this behavior you're a terrible person. Why? Well, because....reasons. Greed is bad but consumerism is good (not to mention a lot of fun!). The problem comes in when people/companies/organizations/etc deliver less than you pay for. This is becoming an epidemic across the consumer goods market but, for the sake of time (and sanity) let's look at three. First up on Are You @#*%! Kidding Me list, Applebee's. If you have any interest in time travel I recommend the Applebee's in Yonkers, NY where you can experience the nostalgia of the 'good ol days', you know, the 'we don't serve your kind here' good ol days. Yes folks, I'm here to announce that in the year 2016 African Americans, Black people, whatever you're comfortable with (I, myself, could care less) can still experience second class citizenship at Applebee's. My mother's best friend (my godmother) lost her mother the repast (the gathering that usually follows the funeral) was held at Applebee's. At this point, it needs to be said that my godmother's family is Polish. So there are approximately 40+ Polish Americans mourning the loss of their family member and exactly two people of color; me and my mom doing the same. When it came time to order, the blonde waitress happily jotted down everyone's choices, everyone except for me and mom that is. Now, before you jump on the 'race card' bandwagon allow me to paint you a picture: a table of 20 or so. Waitress who is an older, white lady goes around the table, chirpily greeting each person and taking their order. When she gets to us she pauses and vanishes. Poof! Gone. Without even looking at us (though, to be fair, she did look through us). On the bright side, she did eventually take our orders and apologize; after my godmother got the attention of the manager. For his part, the manager was very apologetic...in a 'these things happen' sort of way. Actually, they don't. At least, not unless you're in the company of Paula Deen. And, even then there are consequences. If Paula is looking for a second career, might I suggest customer service rep for Applebee's? They were about as helpful as their on premises representatives, promising to 'review the matter throughly'. Oh! Well, in that case... And then there is Dunkin Donuts. Let me start by saying that I am a Dunkin devotee but even I have to call them out when eyelashes end up in my coffee. You read that correctly, eyelashes in my coffee. Eyelashes. Plural. There is really nothing I say about this, it needs to be shown, so I've attached a picture. How does that pic make you feel? Sick? You'd think it would make the company sick but when I brought it to Dunkin Donuts attention they gave me an oppose!, said someone would reach out to me and apparently forgot the whole thing. Perhaps they're used to it? Maybe it's part of the summer drink line? Hmm...somehow the iLatte doesn't have the same ring to it as the iPad. Last up on the really?! list; Poshmark. Poshmark is one of those buy/sell/trade apps where someone else's trash can become your treasure. Think a more sophisticated eBay. In fact, I would have said that Poshmark is one of the better such apps that works perfectly...except when it doesn't. I ordered four things off of Poshmark. Two of them were great! The other two, not so much. For reasons known only to the sellers (Danielle; d_suzanne & Kali; kalimarieshy) they decided not to ship. In the case of Danielle's item, I really wanted that purse so when it failed to show up I was (am) pretty upset. But it's the other item, the dress purchased from Kali that has me so infuriated!! The dress is part of my plans for my sister's upcoming birthday. An essential part that took me forever to find. Now I have to start over and hope that I find something similar in time. And the saddest part is, there is another dress that I want for myself for the same occasion but no longer trust the site...

Breathe and Reboot

I glanced at my phone and saw the e-mail and for a moment, I froze. There it was, this was it. just as I've been fearing. The rubber band was snapping (Again). I was looking at a termination e-mail from a job that I had JUST STARTED! The email was short, barely a paragraph, and it was over via an accusation of plagiarism. I take my writing EXTREMELY seriously, I truly believe it is my true talent and I would never cheapen it! It is at this point, amid my rising panic, that I noticed one emotion that was not present, fear. Usually when something like this happens, my insides turn to liquid nitrogen, my brain freezes over, and I litteraly see the world coming to an end before my very eyes. Not this time. This time, as I started to feel the frost kick in I channeled my inner Rapunzel and realized I had the power to heal myself. First, I left messages for both my supervisor and her supervisor, second I hopped on Cragslist, found a job listing I was interested in and scored an interview for the next day. Third, when I finally heard back from my job, I argued the unfairness of my seemingly random and sudden termination, pointed out all I have done for them in the short period of time I've worked for them and the vagueness of their policies. This resulted in the standard 'I'm sorrys' and 'I understand your positions', and the ever popular 'there's nothing I can do'. At first. I pushed, knowing that I deserved better. And received an acknowledgement of the validity of my case as well as my effort n the form of a review. Not a successful review but what I believe was a heartfelt one. And as for that job interview, well, no luck there either but, rather than cry or feel sorry for myself I take a second to remind myself to breathe and reboot.