Musician's Widow

Two shows I really like are Restaurant: Impossible and Bar Rescue. Its fascinating to see how transformations made to the establishments make such a huge difference, and I’ve picked up a few tips here there that I’ve tried to apply to my own working in a bar.

But you ever notice how perfect the people always still look after hours of work? Ever notice how the work gets done in that super short period of time? I’ve always thrown the BS flag at that, wishing they’d show better how big of a crew they actually have doing the work.

This week, we’ve been working every day down at the bar doing the yearly cleaning and maintenance. Every year, the bar has closed the first week of January to make changes or just to do a deeper cleaning than we have time to do on a regular basis. Its a great way, in my opinion, to kick off a new year.

We’ve been painting. Building. Cleaning. Straightening. Painting…

It’s a lot dirty and harder work than they make it look on TV!! We’re sore. My jeans are an awesome multi-colored set with black and red paint all over them. Last night, we were covered in dust and dirt from just cleaning areas that get left through the year.

It’s hard work. But it is so very satisfying. Its awesome to look around and see the work you’ve done. The soreness is a good kind of sore.

And its that positive reality I wish they’d show on these shows. Everyone isn’t all pretty with perfect hair and make-up while they work. Everyone has broken nails, stained clothes, and their arms and backs ache. It’s a good thing. It’s not something to hide for TV! Show me how hard it is. Show me how very, very satisfying it is.

My Christmas is not over. Not until I say it is. And I’m not saying it yet.

No, in my family, we usually kept Christmas alive until at least January 1st. The tree stayed lit. There were Christmas goodies left to eat. All the presents were just as new as the day we opened them. Christmas was not over just because the calendar said so.

I am not a fan of starting Christmas too early. Stores start stocking Christmas decor before Halloween, and that is just WRONG. Thanksgiving deserves its own attention, and Christmas can get its own attention in turn. Again, I do not want to rush Christmas… neither in starting it, nor in ending it.

So yesterday, as we took off on a ride through the country, the adventure felt just as much a part of Christmas as did wrapping presents and baking cookies. In fact, we picked up a gift for the people watching our house for us while we are away. (Hey, I do NOT leave my house unattended for an extended period of time… robbers take note. I have people watching over my house, and they have guns and know how to use them. So there.) We even went to look at Christmas lights on the way back home!

But it was while we were shopping that I saw it. I saw the biggest travesty of them all.

VALENTINE’S DAY THINGS ARE OUT ON STORE SHELVES!

There was a lady stocking the card section of the grocery store and I really wanted to go over, yank the cards out of her hands and give her a big, “What. The!?!?!?” if I didn’t know she was just doing her job and probably found the action just as stupid as I did.

I mean. I love Valentine’s Day. Sure. But its DECEMBER 26th!!!! No one has ended their Christmas goodies hangovers yet! Heck some of us are still working on them! And we still have New Year’s Eve to celebrate! And… and… just… c’mon! Really!?

(Can you tell by the sheer use of exclamation points above how very, very wrong I find this entire thing to be?)

I’m appauled. I’m disappointed. I’m reaching for another sugar cookie and peppermint schnapps flavored hot chocolate to drown out my sorrows. Christmas isn’t over to me, yet. We aren’t even in the next year yet. Please don’t rush the next holiday.

Please?

I slept on the couch last night… well okay, most of the day. No, my husband and I aren’t fighting. I was waiting for a “local carrier” to come pick up this dud of a laptop.

Somewhere between 8 am and 5:30 pm.

They officially have only 30 more minutes to come get it before I get REALLY annoyed.

First off, I’m a night owl. Both in job and in nature. So saying you could come pick up this package at 8 am is about like someone saying they’ll come by to get it at 2 am for most people. But since I’m the odd one here, I usually sleep on the couch if I have a delivery (or in this case, a pick up) coming. That way I won’t miss the knock on the door.

However, this is the first time I’ve had anyone give themselves a nine and a half hour window to do something. So I slept on the couch, and when my husband got called out last minute to move the bus around, I couldn’t go with him. All the errands I planned to run today didn’t happen. This is worse than waiting for a cable guy!

Why do you need a nine and a half hour window in the first place? Can’t you either, at least, say morning or afternoon? SOMETHING?

Frustrating.

Very frustrating.

Lemming was yesterday’s word of the day for me. I just felt like I spent my day surrounded by them!

Lemming: a member of a large group of people who blindly follow one another on a course of action that will lead to destruction for all of them

It started when I had to go to the bank. As I approached an intersection, I noticed the turn-lane was unusually full. I pulled in anyway — I had to make a left up ahead — but I left about half a car-length between me and the car in front of me.

The light turned green. I noticed two cars make left turns and the rest of us… sat there. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the third car had stalled or something. I waited to see if anyone went around… nothing. Our time with green was running short and still… we all just SAT there. With a glance in my mirror, I pulled out, passed about nine cars, and suddenly became the first in line for the next left arrow.

Now, in some ways you could say that was a very “jerk” thing to do. I saw it as taking initiative. For, you see, after I did that, several other cars followed suit. I refused to just stare at the car in front of me, waiting to do what they did. If I had, I’d have potentially been there at least three more light cycles!

I thought about it later and realized that I want to live my life more like how I drove today. Less “wait and see what others do” and more “taking initiative and pulling ahead of the rest.”

In the evening, I flew out of Nashville International Airport. My gate was at the verrrry end of one concourse. (Always is, right?) Gate C21, squished in with gates C20, C22, C23 and C24. Just as I sat down, it came across that they were changing my gate… to C20. I looked around and realized moving meant going maybe 10 – 20 yards. Nonetheless, about 40 people get up and move. Literally maybe three rows.

I blinked.

I snorted.

I shook my head.

I stayed right were I was, as the people around me shifted… and I suddenly found myself still sitting with flight-mates… just different ones.

Again I sighed to myself. All these people moved because it was implied they might want to do so. Not because they took any time to consider if they actually had to. (Granted there were a few people who really did need to move, because they were seated on the edge of C21 and C22, making it a fairly long distance. But on a whole, over half did not need to move. At all.)

I don’t know. I guess I get frustrated when I run into people not doing anything other than what everyone else is doing. Who aren’t thinking outside the pack and making their own path… or who aren’t standing firm and refusing to be swayed.

I want to be an individual. I want to make my own path. I want to only follow the crowd when it truly is what needs to happen… not just because its easy or implied to be “right.”

Anyone with me??

;-p

Sunday afternoon, my husband and I decided to grab a bite at a local marina. Dinner on the lake? Yes, please!

We grabbed menus and headed for the deck. On our way out, we were asked what we wanted to drink. My husband and I both ordered a cold beer. Ahhh… perfect on a hot day, out by the lake.

A woman walks up to me and goes, “You know you shouldn’t be drinking.”

I was confused! I went, “Yeah? Probably not…” with a nervous laugh. My mind racing… what? Why? I’m trying to get in better shape, and beer doesn’t exactly help that along. I know this. But I’ve also walked a lot today, and its hot outside. Besides… how would she know that I’m on a health kick? What on earth is she talking about?

I looked at her thinking maybe I’d seen her around. Perhaps a reader or Twitter follower.

Nope, didn’t know her.

She goes, “Yeah. I’m just saying. You shouldn’t be drinking.”

As I was handed my beer, I gestured to my husband and went, “Well, I’m not driving. So… whatever.”

She goes, “Well, that’s good…”

And I walked away without a second look. I have to admit, though. It bugged me for a long time. I sat and stewed. I posted about it to Twitter. What on EARTH did she mean? And where did she get off saying that to me?

Finally, I decided maybe she was implying that I’m pregnant. I mean, I admit, my “problem area” is my stomach. Always has been! When I barely weighed 110 lbs., I would buy tummy flattener underclothes for certain dresses. Some women say they have big butts. Some women have thick thighs. I have a belly. No matter if I weigh 110 or 150, its there. I’m working on it, but, frankly, its how I was made. It’s an imperfection, and there is only so much I can do.

I’ve been working hard lately, and I’ve lost over 5 lbs. in the last couple of weeks. My husband can see the change in my shape. I can feel it. I can see it. It feels great! So the more I thought about this, the angrier I got.  I wished I hadn’t been so thrown and I’d have said something to the effect of, “Excuse me? You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Your unsolicited advice is NOT appreciated.”

Oh ok. I’d have probably not said that. That is part of my confusion. I try to get along with everyone, and I didn’t want to be rude. But, I do wish I’d have asked her, “Why?” though. And had she said something to the effect of my being pregnant I’d have GLADLY set her straight. Because, dammit, that is just RUDE.

Yes, my husband and I plan to have kids someday. Just not yet. And as I said, I am working hard to get in shape, and her statement was hurtful in one vein, and motivation in another. On the oft chance she was making some sort of religious point or something else… well, her opinion is STILL not welcome.

For one thing, I’m not pregnant and implying as such is like saying, “You’re fat.” Which, I’m not. And WHAT IF I couldn’t get pregnant. Or WHAT IF I had recently had a miscarriage. Talk about being HURTFUL!!! Talk about this woman potentially placing extreme heartache on someone! How DARE she!?!

I would NEVER tell someone they shouldn’t be drinking. As a bartender, I will decline to serve someone who is already drunk. But past that… every person has their own story, every person is in charge of their own body. And unless you know that person personally, or you are their doctor, or at the VERY LEAST have some clue SOME THING about that person, it is NOT your place to say something.

Assume. It makes an ass out of you and me. This woman, made a TOTAL ass out of herself today. And I am sure somewhere she is thinking she did her part and tried to do a good deed.  Well, all she did was gave me blog fodder. Ha!

Anyone else have a similar thing happen to them? Please, do tell!!

I’ve been fighting an almost constant sinus infection for over a month. (By the way, I’m finding my best medicine is prayer. And I am dead serious on this. That’ll be a post to come in the next day or two.)  As such, I’ve been popping Sudafed like its candy to get through every day.

Dear Meth addicts… thank you SO MUCH for making it so hard for us sinus sufferers to buy medicine. I mean, I just LOVE having to fill out forms and whatnot just to be able to breathe. Oh and that whole only able to buy it when the pharmacy is open… yeah that just rocks the planet. Because I NEVER run out of medicine on a Sunday at 5:00 in the afternoon. Nope. Never happens.

Dear legislative people who want to make Sudafed a prescription-only medicine. That’s just awesome. Yeah, I really want to have a doctors bill on top of jumping through hoops to be able to breathe. I mean… why not!? I mean, its not like its a basic necessity to living.

All sarcasm aside, I had to buy “Nasal Decongestant” — as the generic box says — today. I ran out, and that PE stuff? It just doesn’t cut it when you’re fighting something like I’ve been fighting.

So, I made my way to the pharmacy counter to buy Sudafed nasal decongestant. The lady hands me a form to fill out and I break into a cold sweat. Address. Crap. I just moved. And in Tennessee you don’t get a new license when you move. You fill out a form and get a little slip of paper that says in their records the address changed.

The pharmacy tech is typing my information in her little database, using my old address. What do I do? Use my new address and raise eyebrows? Or do I use my old address and risk and raising other eyebrows. I LITERALLY started sweating. I JUST WANT TO BREATHE!!

I opted for my old address as it shows on my driver’s license. Path of least resistance. I hope. I mean, I bought Sudafed down in Texas several times, and they always used my old address and it was no big deal. I decided to just go with that… Until I couldn’t remember my ZIP code. CRAP! And I didn’t have any checks on me to look it up.

I had to ask the pharmacy tech for my ZIP code. Real smooth there. Yeah, way to stay cool. She didn’t seem phased at least, but still… I felt like a criminal. ALL FOR BUYING MEDICINE I NEED.

I got my meds and left. I am sitting here waiting for Federal Agents to bust down my door in a suspected meth lab investigation. Too bad all they will find is me sniffling in the corner crying, begging forgiveness because I just didn’t know what address to use.

It sucks. It does. And on top of it, I went to Kroger during Senior Buying Days and nearly ran over a few dozen little old ladies. I am clearly a criminal.

With a sinus issue.