Not so much.
When Will and Marc and I left for lunch, the door locks didn't even work. And I just knew - and sure enough, I left my lights on. It was D-E-D! So after lunch Will pulled his mammoth ride around and we rolled my car back. When he put the jumper cables on my car they went POW! POP! And I said "Should it do that?" And then he switched the cables. Alas, after 20 minutes of trying, with THREE sets of people wanting to leave the parking lot that we were blocking, Mr. Building Maintenance comes along and busts out his tools and starts scrubbing away at the corrosion on the posts, doing all this do-hickey stuff, wandering back with other tools..... Meanwhile, I'm thinking "I left my lights on. That's all. Something else is wrong." I had visions of having to get my car towed because I left the lights on.
It was a fuse in my battery. (There's fuses in my battery! That's what I learned today!)
And you see, this fuse was toast from the previous POW! POP!
So then here comes Todd strolling into the parking lot, and I say "Hey Todd! Wanna go get a fuse with me?!" And, strangely, he said "Yeah, okay."
On the way there, I said "Watch, they'll be out of that one fuse."
Yep. They were out of that one fuse.
So now we're cruising through the U-District to the *other* car parts store, and thankfully, they had it. And the guy behind the counter says "What, did ya put the cables on wrong?"
But while I was there, I got an interior light. It was a big, big day for me.
Once the fuse was in, Mr. Building Maintenance had her started in seconds. (Will's car, on the other hand, had a problem starting. I hope it's okay.)
Soon after five I skeedaddled to Stanford's to meet Valerie the phone chick. Her company installed our phone system at Johnston Architects and now we're tight. As soon as we sat down I ordered a Chocolate Martini to sip through my entire meal. I didn't finish it. This is one portion white creme de cacao and one portion vodka, strained over ice with a cherry. That is all.
We ate our food, we gossiped, we hung out for a while, and then I hit the road.
And that's when I realized: I'm drunk.
I didn't even FINISH the stupid drink! ONE martini! With a big meal! I'm such a lightweight it's embarrassing!
So here I am in my car, driving. The closest place to walk it off: Target.
I swear I'm not making this up. I really did go to Target to walk off my inebriation.
I only spent $24 and most of it was cool cleaning supplies.
Jon and Amy are going to some Mariners games this weekend. In San Francisco. So I don't think I will be able to update until Monday. Hope you all have a good weekend!
We saw Shawn Smith last night at the Green Room (it was so awesome), and I woke up two hours later to open Starbucks.
When I first moved to Seattle in 1996, with a sleeping bag and Jalen and not much else in an empty apartment, my second night in town Satchel performed, and it was the first show I saw in Seattle. After Satchel played, I talked outside with Shawn Smith for a while and he was very kind to me. So actually, he was the first person I met here. I told him this last night, seven years later. I can't believe we've been here seven years.
The picture on the right is to show you just how difficult it is for me to get out of bed in the morning - and note that Jalen was snoring louder than Sean. When Jalen sleeps like this, you just put your hand on his belly and he starts to purr. Actually it's kinda the same with Sean too.
Every time I turn around, Hot Hot Heat is stumbling towards rock-stardom.
I'm sure the timing is just coincidental. I'm sure. Sean says maybe the bala shark ate them. Or they're hiding. I like that one. The fish are hiding.
Sean cleaned the fish tank yesterday. A pink one and a silver one are "missing".
The silver ones were a school of six. Now there are three.
The frogs - oh dear Lord don't even let me get started with the frog story. All six gone. One death documented. FIVE disappeared without a trace. This after a month of trials with a pregnant frog-mama birthing eggs, which were eaten, and eggs again, which were eaten again, then she died, fully pregnant again. And all this after I set up a happy frog-only tank and everything. Jerks. That was in 2000. We have no frogs now. And no signs of them leaving - no "lone webbed foot floating aimlessly" carnage, no "see ya later" note. Nothing.
Now see there, you let me get started with the frog story.
The fish are hiding.
If I say anything otherwise, Sean may stop cleaning the tank. And we wouldn't want that.
This morning I attempted to eat beets. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I just cut them and put them in the microwave and added salt. I tried a few pieces and had to sneeze, and I ended up sneezing hot pink! (A benefit to eating beets), but later I was afraid I'd vomit hot pink if I kept trying to eat them. Yuck. I want to conquer this. I'm sure there's a better way to prepare beets, so they're actually.... edible, but I don't know how. Any suggestions? There's just something about them that makes me want to add them to my diet - mainly, because they're magenta and bright orange.
Okay kids, here's the comments, let her rip. But a couple rules: rude comments are deleted, and I'd rather not have my first name anywhere on this site. Thanks!
So I cleaned out my car today....
Box. Whenever I see a nifty-sized box I take it home. It's a compulsion. Eventually they end up by the front door, then rain-soaked and ruined later, and broken down and put into recycling.
Jane Magazine, Dwell Magazine, Starbucks Espresso Machine Catalog.
Completely ruined/mildewed hardcover edition of Tabitha King's novel "One on One", which I adore. It was in my trunk for at least a year - obviously some water got in.
Box of Milk Duds - required for getting through 3 hour class.
Disposable Camera for Nervousness Project which I completed by Valentines Day.
A list of some sort.
Phone List of Starbucks Store Employees - laminated and in my glove box at all times (you do *not* want to be hanging out in the parking lot at 4 a.m. waiting for a *still sleeping* supervisor to show up.
Portishead and Radiohead CD's (coincidence) that Chris copied for me - since our CD to CD function isn't working very well at home
Fred Meyer receipt: 03-02-03 ($90.51)
Handouts from class.
Completely overexposed (and therefore blank) photo negative.
Johnston Architects envelope containing a pay stub and a blown fuse.
Tupperware lid. Whereabouts of container still unknown.
Empty baggie with cookie crumbs in it.
Extra Strength Excedrin with green coating mysteriously flaked off.
Dirty paper towel and kleenex.
Packaging from something that had balloons on it.
Jesus air freshener (`cuz he's fresh!)
Shells and stones from Lake Huron in 1994 (when we lived in London, Ont.)
The necklace I wore in Susan's wedding in 1994.
A miniature plastic nun.
Many straw wrappers.
Some plastic rings that belonged to my Grandma Lee.
Two bobby pins. Two clippy pins.
$2.64 US and $0.54 CDN in change.
2 screws that look like they belong to my car, and look kinda important.
A pack of Equal.
A rubber band.
Mariners vs. Blue Jays ticket stub.
Receipt for a store called Faboom (?) in Vancouver: 06-25-01 ($23.18)
Directions to Ross' new condo
Receipt for QFC: 03-05-01 ($3.84)
Receipt for post office: 01-25-03 ($16.70)
Receipt for unknown place: 06-25-01 ($66.92)
My "Schmeg" bracelet that hangs in my rearview mirror (since 1991). Sean's says "Daisy"
A baggie with one piece of pepper shortbread (thankfully, from this week)
Two different reverse light bulbs.
Bartell Drugs photo developing stubs from Chad's funeral last October (before we got our digital camera)
Piece of mail for the tennis shop below Johnston Architects that I meant to take on my way out to my car, but instead, carried it in my hand, got in my car, and drove away.
Rhinestones for Six Arms softball t-shirts that nobody had the balls to decorate.
Two nail files.
Two issues of the Stranger newspaper.
Two expensive books for class (Dreamweaver and Flash).
Five pens - including the one I bought for Jen & Joe's guest book for their wedding in 1999. They are divorced now.
Two lipsticks. Three lip liners.
One nail buffer. One lint roller. Mardi Gras beads.
Farmers Insurance proof of insurance expiring 12-10-02
Kleenex. Applebee's cup that I keep in my cup holder for pens and such.
Bank card for Canada Trust account circa 1994.
Fuse panel cover.
My car's manual. My cars warrantee book.
Three Rorschach Test stickers. One Rorschach Test demo cassette.
Receipts for Jiffy Lube for oil changes: 04-28-01 ($32.84) 03-27-02 ($33.93)
Receipt for 7-11: 06-07-02 ($6.94)
Receipt for Chevron: 06-23-02 ($18.25)
Receipt for Petco: 02-03-01 ($25.40)
Farmers Insurance proof of insurance expiring 11-10-01
BuzzBee Company paystub dated 01-15-01
Farmers Insurance receipt dated 02-11-02
Emissions test dated 12-01-00
Three blank CD's in unknown condition.
CD's of Bush, North American Bison, and Stone Temple Pilots.
Pink cassette I made for Jason Demers in Palm Desert circa 1998.
A long plastic thing with a wire in it. It looks.... necessary.
A sequined devil's trident given to me by the gay bag boy at Larry's Market Halloween 2000? 2001?
A box of straight pins.
A little picture of a bag. A little picture of a chinese lamp. Those face blotter papers.
An unopened notice of overdrawn account from Washington Mutual.
Seattle Center parking stub.
Johnston Architects dirty dish towel that I take home to wash.
Butterfly clip - gift box decoration - probably from a gift from Dad & Kay a la Neiman Marcup.
Blank deposit slips for Washington Mutual.
Free pass for preview of the movie Kate & Leopold (no, I did NOT go)
Color photocopy of All Your Base are Belong to Us to take to cake shop to decorate Marc's birthday cake 2001.
A pin that says "Talk stupid to me". I think it's Sean's from working at TGIFriday's in 1998.
A cat's rabies tag from Vegas 1994 - must be Opie's (Joe's cat) since I have all four of my cat's tags from that same vet visit on my keychain. Still.
An unknown key on a keychain.
A cute paper bag from the Wedge.
A notebook for a Nervousness project.
Sports section of USA Today purchased while waiting for my Mom at the airport February 2002. They had Olympics highlights that I wanted to read about.
Two Washington maps - one paper, and therefore mildewed; one laminated and created for people just like me.
A very old tin of Cinnamon Altoids.
Tiny photo of a completely naked lady.
Flash class assignment. Papers from class.
My training book when I first started at Starbucks February 2001.
Old copy of my resume. E-mail from a guy that works at Hornall Anderson Design Works, who thinks I'm crazy to move to Vancouver, but recommended some places to apply for work in the design industry.
Old bandaid (still wrapped). Two containers of black paint. Paperclips.
Starbucks apron. Starbucks paycheck. Used lint roller tape.
Used Johnston Architects envelope with Tony Bennett at the Paramount postcard inside.
I am happy to tell you that *both* bottles went into the garbage today after taking this picture.
So back to this morning - I wore my glasses and took and Excedrin and then, somewhere, the train wreck kicked in. I woke up Sean as I always do to walk me to my car. My apron is not in my car. I go back inside. It's 4 a.m. My eye is burning. I had no time to dry my hair. I can't find the apron. I throw the dirty laundry everywhere. I go back to my car to try there again.
But my car, you see, has no interior light, because it's burnt out, and I haven't replaced it, you see, because that would mean I'd have to get a *normal* interior light, and NOOOO we can't DO that. It has to be a RED interior car light, even if that means waiting two months to get one, because that's COOL and so that's what I HAVE to do. So I am depending on the outside light by my front door to rummage through my car, but I can't see a damn thing, you see, because I have RED EXTERIOR LIGHTS on my front porch, because it's not the SAFETY of the house, NOOOO, it's so my house lights up red and that's about it.
So after throwing all the stuff in my car into the front yard (thank you, Sylvia, for not calling the police this morning) I trudge back into the house and yell to Sean (who had crawled, in fear, back into bed) "WHERE IS THE FLASHLIGHT?!?" And he says, carefully, "I don't know" and I say "WE DON'T KNOW WHERE THE FLASHLIGHT IS?!? THAT IS SO STUPID!!!" Then I leave Sean in my dust and go into garage to get Sean's spotlight.
I spotlight every inch of my car. Then parts of the house that we use. Then parts of the house that we don't use. Then I pick up the phone to call Starbucks to tell them I'll be late.
And then, the floodgates.
I started bawling. I'd like to say that it was a physical reaction to my watery eye and snot and all, but you know, it was probably just me crying. Because I can't find my Starbucks apron. I'm 32 years old.
"*snort*, HEATHER, hic, I, I'll, bethereassoonasIcan, I, sniff, can't find my apron." And she says "O... Kayyyy...?"
I never found the apron. And I think I beckoned to the love of my life, in the most flat bark possible "I'LLSEEYALATER"
The second I reached the door at Starbucks, 7 minutes late, I remembered where my apron was. And there were two, TWO, extra aprons hanging on the coat hooks. And my right eye was still crying.
But you see, the classic Freaky Day was just beginning, because we had a... difficult... time on drive-thru today.
"Would you like anything to eat with that?"
"Did you say a triple grande white chocolate mocha?"
"NO! I said a 16 ounce mocha with white chocolate, extra shot"
"What can I get for you?"
"I'll have a (seagulls go CAW!CAW!CAW!) with a (CAW!CAW!CAW!) muffin"
"This doesn't TASTE like a mocha" She says, after taking a giant slurp of the drink. I check her order. A tall mocha. She's holding a VENTI latte.
And the woman who waited for her drink for five minutes, who sips it and says "Is this soy?" And I have to say "No, you have to actually SPECIFY soy"
Meanwhile, I have cars full of caffeine junkies who are wrapped around my store, waiting TOO LONG for their fix, poised and ready to leap through their windshields and claw their way to my window. So, oh YES, they were an absolute JOY when they reached my window.
What happens when someone angry gets their drink? This happens all the time. They YANK their drink.
A hot coffee drink. And who do they glare at when that happens? Oh c'mon now, just GUESS.
This didn't just happen to me. It was all of us. It was.... a bonding experience.
So I was a PARTY when I got home.