shoulda, coulda, woulda

I can't:
Ride a bike. Dance. Really do anything that involves balance and coordination. Eat ice cream without throwing up. Imagine where I'm going to be in ten years. Talk in depth about my dad to most people. Do assignments ahead of time. Parallel park when other people are in the car. Beatbox. Stand bad tippers. Tolerate people on power trips. Keep my temper when I'm talked down to.

I can:
Play the trumpet. Act. Make delicious sandwiches. Bake. Watch an entire season of "Weeds" in one sitting. Procrastinate. Laugh off embarrassment. Memorize lines very quickly. Understand phenomenology. Easily step onto a feminist soapbox. Pull an all nighter. Spend hours doing absolutely nothing and be totally okay with that. Make people laugh. Love.

I won't:
Intentionally hurt someone. Compare myself to the standards of beauty and sexiness society has set out for us today. Back down when I believe in something. Eat celery. Finish reading The Twilight Saga. Support the war.

I will:
Stand up for myself and for others. Support a woman's right to choose. Support same-sex marriage. Support you. Listen to opinions that differ from my own. Try to change the world in some way. Always miss my dad.

I shouldn't:
Judge rich people. Watch as much TV as I do. Eat so much Mexican food. Hide my emotions from people. Have road rage. Spend money. Waste time.

I should:
Spend more time with my mom. Spend more time with my brother. Save money. Get a second job. Exercise a lot more. Go running in the park. Tell more people how much I love and appreciate them. Learn to love veggies. Focus on progressing as a performer by doing shows instead of consuming myself with thoughts of financial security.

Took this from my favorite boss ever--Laura! (http://withlovefrompittsburgh.blogspot.com)

In other news, a man named John Wagner is giving out my cell phone number to avoid debt. I've gotten phone calls from two different companies asking for him. I've told both that they have the wrong number. So hopefully that'll be the end of that. So, Mr. Wagner, pay your debt. And stop using my number.

Father's Day.

Father's Day was yesterday. And I survived. Barely.

If anyone doesn't already know, my dad passed away almost four years ago. Four years seems like a long time on paper, but, really, sometimes it still feels like it happened yesterday.



I was scheduled to work yesterday. I thought it wouldn't be a problem. I was kind of looking forward to it so I could keep busy and not think about it.

Wrong.

My first table was a father and his three daughters. They had cards for him and were treating him to a Father's Day dinner. When I was with them, I was fine. But everytime I walked away from the table, my chest would get tight and I couldn't breathe. It also didn't help that I was so distracted that I forgot to put their appetizer in. Like, completely forgot. So their meals come out and the dad asks me what happened to their wings. Of course I realize what happened. I go put the order in and tell the cook to make them as fast as he can. I went back to Grace, the manager on duty, and told her about it in case she wanted to go talk to them and apologize. And while I was talking to her I completely broke down into a full on panic attack.



She was completely understanding about everything. She went out and brought the wings to the table and told them what was going on and that another server would be taking over. And then she just told me to clock out. She said that if she had any idea, she would have never scheduled me on that day. I honestly thought I would be fine, otherwise I would have said something about working on Father's Day.

So, Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I hope where ever you are you're still proud of me and that you know that I think about you every day and miss you.

back!

Yeah, yeah. I've been back. Updating is such a hassle!

So yes. I've been back in the States for about two months now. Of course it took me a month to even touch my suitcases. Eh. Not worried about it. It's been a pretty eventful summer so far.

I got a job at a Mexican restaurant called Amigos. I still haven't called Eat n Park to tell them I'm not coming back, but...I feel like they get the picture. They put me through so much stress and unrest that I'd be happy if I never set foot in there ever again. The Whitehall one, of course. Not South Park. That's the hangout. Clearly. But Amigos is an absolute dream in comparison. The only downfall is that it's not a very busy restaurant, so I don't make much money in tips. But all of the managers are great and so not on power trips, which is the most important thing. We also have a lot of fun at work. It's just a great job. I don't dread going, a refreshing change from Eat n Park where I'd come 15 minutes early to sit in my car and prepare myself for the hell I was about to experience.

My mom also got me the best birthday present ever. She paid for 24 sessions with a personal trainer. It was pretty steep, but it's definitely worth it. I want to get down to a size 10. Or lose at least 5 inches in my hips and waist each. So far it's going pretty well. The first month was spent building muscle so I could actually handle the exercises he's giving me. And now we've bumped it up to all cardio all the time. It's exhausting but really fulfilling.

And the biggest news of all...

On Sunday morning, June 14th, my nephew was born!

His name is Easton Ryder Noderer. And he's beautiful.

He weighed in at 8 pounds, 2 ounces. Which is a pretty big baby, especially since he was 4 weeks early! The doctors said if he went to full term, he'd be between 10 and 12 pounds. So far he's a very sleepy baby. Both Mommy and Daddy are doing well. They all came home from the hospital yesterday and my mom and I are going to visit them today. That's my brother Casey holding him. I'm pretty sure he'd wanted to be a dad since he was 15. Even when I was a baby, he would take care of me. So, of course, he can't stop glowing.