yes, I am alive

I have seriously neglected this blog over the last month. Let's recap what has happened so far: I got an internship, graduated and spent good quality time with my fam and friends, I got a job (and then turned down the internship), went to the pool a lot, went to the gym kind of a lot, got another job (it's my dream job so now I have to turn down job offer #1) and now I am working as a server at the PGA tour down the road at Colonial. It seems like I've been busy, but it's been a good mix of down time, party time and sun time. I let my room get out-of-control messy and then I cleaned it today before I left for work.

Let me tell you about working at the golf tourney.

Yesterday (Saturday) was orientation day. Everyone who's working the tourney had to come in and get their schedules, parking passes, shirts, info from their supervisors.

Let me tell you where I'll be this week: I'm working in what is known as the "party tent." It's what the club's COO calls "the place where people go and forget they're at a golf tournament." So, what the tournament directors do is hire young, attractive ladies to serve, and good looking dudes to bartend. It makes sense. They give the young ladies tank tops to wear instead of the normal Nike polo shirts everyone else gets to wear. Hey, whatever gets me tips, right?

Okay, back to orientation. I got there relatively early so I didn't have to park in BFE or stand in line forever. So once I got through the line to check in and the line to get my bright pink tank top, I sat down next to Gina at our assigned table. Gina is probably in her late 30s/early 40s, but she looks early because she smokes and tans. So, she smells like tanning cream (I swear that smell does NOT leave your pores, no matter what body wash you use), hair spray, smoke, perfume and mint gum. Mmmmm smokers. Gina has a few snaggle teeth (and they're all yellow), long chunky-highlighted hair and is pretty skinny for her 5'8" frame. She's wearing a low-cut hot pink tank top and tight black pants and strappy sandals from the mid-1990s. Can you picture her yet? Well, she starts talking to me, which is fine, but I'm tired, a little drunk still/mostly hungover from the night before and running on three hours of sleep without any caffeine in me, which makes me less than willing to have a conversation. But, I make small talk with her anyway, because I can't go anywhere.

Gina starts to tell me that she used to work at the club and made some SERIOUS tips. That's awesome, good for you Gina. Why ever did you leave? Oh, because she's so good at serving that the other servers were jealous. Wow, you're such a martyr. But don't worry she says, she's banking at her other job, and she's planning on making a "shit ton" of money this week at the tournament. It's good to have goals. And, Gina tells me, she used to be fat! Can you believe it, she asks! No, I absolutely can not, Gina. Yes, indeed, she used to weigh 85 more pounds. But then she started drinking weight loss shakes and power bars and she dropped it all off. I am so proud of you, stranger who is telling me her life.

This one-way conversation was annoying me, so I took an intermission to get a muffin. Diet, my ass!

I get back to the one-way convo and Gina tells me that her hair used to be curly, just like mine. Get out, Gina! She then asks me what kind of perm I get. I gasp because she finally allowed me to speak! I tell her it's not a perm, and is in fact, natural, then she tells me that she gets better tips when her hair is curly, so I probably have a good chance this week. Thanks Gina. She then went on to tell me about how if she makes a "big ass" tip this week, she's going to pocket it and not share with everyone, like we're supposed to. Ummm that's not how it works, Gina.

Moral of the Gina story: don't be a Gina in conversations--allow other people to speak. Also, don't be greedy and so self-involved.

Tonight (Sunday) was our first night of work. I saw some creepy, pervy, older, married men doing things that make me want to stay single for the rest of my life. It's hard to tell those stories without gestures and changing the inflection in my voice, but use your imagination, then use it some more, and you'll be somewhere near the perviness of tonight.

Did you know Tommy Bahama makes rum? Well, he does, and three very blonde, orange young ladies came to promote it at the dinner. When the bartender was making what were CLEARLY mojitos, one of the T.B. ladies asked him, "so, like, what am I serving?" ummmmmmm Tommy Bahama rum mojitos? You watched him make them.

Moral of this story: orange skin = unintelligent.

Working at this place makes me drink large glasses of wine when I get home. Good thing it's only for the week!

I will try to keep this updated more, and given the last two days, I'll have plenty of material.

Here are some pics:


this picture is posted on a lower blog entry, from four years ago :)


go frogs!


frog family

until next time, love love love