. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Monday, May 23

 

Japanese Hispanics and the Gay 90s

I wonder if the Gay 90s will ever update its name to the Gay "aughts" or something... who knows. So last night I went out with some of my cafe coworkers for a lil' going away shindig for this girl Jamie who is leaving. The funny thing is it is I who am leaving first. Tomorrow is my last night at that Barnes & Noble. Shannon was nice enough to give me a card, which I shall hold near and dear to my heart, and of course Donald was a complete asshole and told me nobody cared that I was leaving. Thanks Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud.

We went to Benihana's, which apparently is a huge chain in America, and after our counterparts arrived (late for our reservation, which was almost given away) we sat down to dinner. I have to say, despite the entertaining nature of the dinner, I think it's overrated. I mean, sure seafood is great, and shrimps are fantastic, but eh.... seafood in Minnesota still seems half-assed to me. Plus our "chef" for the evening was named Carlos. When asked what part of Japan he was from, he simply replied, "Tokyo". Then I thought better and asked him, "Hablas japones?". And of course he replied, "Bastante bien." Yup. In fact, as we looked around we realized that a majority of the employees were of Hispanic descent. It was just odd.

Afterwards, we all headed down to see a drag show at the lovely Gay 90s. It had been awhile since I was downtown, and sort of a nice kiss-off to the city for me. We drove by the high-rise Steve and I lived in, and walked along Hennepin for probably one of my last times. Oh....We danced a bit to some lovely remixes of the Scissor Sisters song "Filthy/Gorgeous" (big surprise at a gay bar). The drag show was decent. There was a fabulous Tina Turner and a very poorly done Cher (It was more of an imitation and an homage).

Hopefully after we return from Seattle, for which we leave on Wednesday night, Steve and I can make it down to the Walker Art Center to check out the new digs. Shit, I can't believe I leave for Seattle in two days. YEAH!!

Lynnette 10:36 AM

Sunday, May 22

 

Oh yeah, I also dreamt that Amanda Peet, the "actress" committed suicide.

Lynnette 10:13 AM

 

DREAM: Seattle in Florida...

My brain is probably on overload status at this point, since all I can think about are preparations for Florida and the fact that this Wednesday Steve and I are leaving for a week of vacation in Seattle. It's a goatfuck in my head.

And SO, I had a dream that Amy (my crackbaby) and Candice and I went on vacation to Seattle. At first it was just to walk around the city and enjoy the sights by foot. Somehow we ended up at the Midway of a local fair that was happening. We joked about how all Midways look exactly the same, even down to the location of the Tilt-A-Whirl on the Midway. One ride, a slow, old, roller coaster was being run by a junkie. Because of his state of mind he ran the cars too quickly and we ende dup referring to the ride as the "Attempted Murder" ride....he was bound to kill someone. As soon as Candice and Amy took advantage of the roller skate rentals (no fucking roller blades, thank you very much), I knew it was time for me to sneak away.

I found the Florida Aquarium just at the end of the block and decided it was my turn to go in and wrangle up some experience with the local marine biologist nerds. I had a sort of impromptu interview with the manager of the aquarium, a nice, married, blonde man who was very helpful about job openings and interns the aquarium had available. The in the office there was a birthday party going on for one of the employees and I was glad to help enjoy festivities. Actually come to think of it, there was only bottled water at the party, but nobody seemed to mind, especially not me. Then a female manager asked me if I was ready for some on-the-job training. At that moment I realized how ill-prepared I was, having left my entire kit of scuba gear at home. Not a mask or snorkel in sight. Fortunately, they didn't hold it against me, and still took me on the boating trip while they went diving.

There was a "ride" at the aquarium that sort of looked like a sort of... wave ride at a water park. Except, on this wave ride you stand on one end and they open up the ocean on the other and let it spill onto you really quickly. You're immediately underwater, but if you hold your breath long enough it's the ride of a lifetime. The water was not want for any marine life, and there were even whales that could be seen by some.

Then I had another dream that I was a slave, but I woke up in the middle of it so I don't remember much of it.

Lynnette 10:01 AM

 

DREAM: Tattoos, Boot Camp...

A couple of nights ago I dreamt that I woke up and found that I had a tattoo on my face. It was three vertical lines, the first two lines actually went from my forehead down through my eyelid and stopped at my chin. The third line went from my forehead, past my cheek, and all the way down the side of my body to my ankle. I didn't remember getting a tattoo but realized that if I was so surprised that I had one, and so displeased with it, that it was time to have it removed. And so, I drove an orange VW bug (which I don't own in real life, mind you) down to the seedy part of town, cuz you know that's where the tattooed freaks out hang, right? There was a tattoo parlor that sort of had an engine shop feel to it; hubcabs hanging on the wall, everyone was greasy. I went up to the counter and inquired about the cost of having my tattoo removed. This old guy, probably in his 50s, with grey hair and a beard asked me, "What happened to change your attitude?" I didn't understand what he meant by the question so I asked him to repeat it. He came back with, "If you're too stupid to realize that a tattoo is permanent then you can just keep it now. Idiot!" For some reason I thanked him for his help and slinked away only to find that my orange VW bug had been stolen from the place I had parked it in the alley. Shitsville.

Another dream I had had to do with bootcamp. Not really a military boot camp, but it was a dorm-like, shitty environment bootcamp. I had to go through a security checkpoint where all my things were sorted through; undies, my laptop, blah blah. It took FOREVER for them to turn on my laptop and make sure it was "real". By the time I made it to the bootcamp all of the beds had been claimed, which made me feel extremely left out. By "claimed" I mean that people ha placed their respective pillows on top of the beds. I ended up complaining aloud to nobody in particular about how I felt left out, that this was my third year at the bootcamp and I still didn't have anyone on my side. I simply could not break through the cliques that had formed with all the bitches. (Of course, this dream is about my day job)

I ended up finding an empty, old couch and claiming that by throwing my pillow onto it unceremoniously.

Lynnette 9:51 AM

Thursday, May 19

 

May the force be with you......and also with you

We went to a midnight showing of Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith. It was playing on all twenty screens in the theatre, and they also had lines set up for the 3 am showing. Well, it didn't suck, and I have to say I was surprised it didn't suck. There were only a few cheesy "I love you Ani" scenes, but they were tolerable. I have to say, Yoda is still one of the coolest beings in the entire Star Wars Galaxy. That green dude kicks some serious ass.

Aside from the movie (of which the Darth Vader transition was sweet) there were some craptasticly fantastic fans in the audience. As the theatre dimmed for the start of the previews (the new Batman looks sweet!) some guy started chanting "Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk!" Upon realize this brought laughter to the crowd he continued onto a chant of "Jean-Luc! Jean-Luc!", which brought considerably less laughter. After the flick there were news crews outside interviewing BFQs dressed head-to-toe in costume. As we walked by the crew a group of guys screamed "PENIS!" at the top of their lungs, thereby rendering the bit unusable by the Fox affiliate. "Penis!", it's a time-tested classic.

So yes, it didn't suck, and now Steve and I are arguing about how to show his now 5-year-old nephew the Star Wars movies. My vote is in the order they were released, and Steve is going with 1-6. Oh, he could ruin that boy!

Although I think I need to express my opinion one thing: When I was a little girl I wanted to BE Princess Leia mostly because she was a sassy badass. Well Leia or Wonder Woman. But in the new movie, shit, Padme is a fucking baby. Perhaps it's because Natalie Portman hasn't been good in anything since Leon: The Professional, or it could simply be that the character is a weak, droopy woman. I'd imagine it's a bit of both. I'm just saying if Leia could see the "security archive videos" or whatever of her mom being a big pussy, she would be ashamed.

Lynnette 8:59 AM

Wednesday, May 18

 

Mt St Helens...25 years later

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the lateral blast that destroyed half of the volcano known as Mt St Helens. Oh yeah.

Lynnette 2:06 PM

Tuesday, May 17

 

Cow milk is kinda grody. Not grody to the max, grody, but just your average every day grody. It's not right. But I needed a cream-like substance in my coffee so I got 2% from the vending machine in the breakroom.

I forgot today was "dress-up" day and we are required to wear business casual. In my office this pretty much means no jeans and ugly t-shirts. So what am I wearing today? Dirty jeans, and a t-shirt with a big fat Elvis iron-on plastered to the front. Haha. I rule.

Last night I had to work at the bookstore. Blah blah some old cunt going on and on about the special employee appreciation days in June, long after my departure. I don't bother telling people, just the scheduler and my manager(s). What's the point of getting into a conversation with someone who is less than an acquaintence and is often rude to me. So I answered in a tone that would make her believe that I was looking forward to the extra lousy 10% they offer employees by saying aloud, "Oh really, good," when in my head I was thinking to myself "you stupid twat, I can get 40% off my fucking Harry Potter book on amazon.com without the bullshit of leaving my house." Then I smiled.

Three more shifts to go.

Tomorrow night Steve and I go to Star Wars midnight showing. Christ. I'll be a wreck at work the next day. Blah! Blargy blargy boogensnot!

Hm. Yes. Coffee. Yummalicious.

Lynnette 8:57 AM

Monday, May 16

 

But is it "Alternative"?

The days of calling music "alternative" ended in 1997, or so I thought. The twat in the cubical next to me is going on and on about all the types of music she likes. She said, in this order: Oh, I like everything! Country, hip hop, alternative. There's that word. Alternative? What the fuck does that mean and why do people call music "alternative" when they should really just be calling it "rock" or "rock and roll" or "that shit on the radio that is on hot rotation and force fed to listeners".

My boyfriend heard a coworker of his actually say to another person that she liked "alternative" guys who are 6'2" or taller. What the fuck does that mean? What is an "alternative" guy? Who are these bitches? When will they get their asses kicked by a punker at a show? When will they learn? Who can eat 50 eggs? Why do birds suddenly appear? Where's the party?

al·ter·na·tive ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ôl-tûrn-tv, l-)
As a noun:
1. The choice between two mutually exclusive possibilities.
2. A situation presenting such a choice.

As an adjective:
1. Allowing or necessitating a choice between two or more things.
2a. Existing outside traditional or established institutions or systems: an alternative lifestyle.
2b. Espousing or reflecting values that are different from those of the establishment or mainstream: an alternative newspaper; alternative greeting cards.

Holy shit people use fucking grammer and use words properly in situations that are appropriate to convey their actual meaning.

Lynnette 8:50 AM

 

A morning of pain...

This morning I woke up to a pounding headache. Alcohol induced it was not. I think it was brought on by lack of sleep and sitting too close to the computer for too many hours playing too much Sims 2. Shit. The corner of my thumb split AGAIN, a terrible side effect of working in cafe where I have to wash my hands every 15 minutes for one reason or another. Finally, this can end. I only work four more times. Tonight, Friday, Sunday, and next Tuesday thank fuckin' god. Only two of those shifts are in the cafe cage, the other two are on the bookfloor.

I was told I was brave. Brave. I am brave. ? Guess so.

I am sleepy, hungry, and dry. My hands feel like sandpaper, my face feels tight and needs some moisturizer desperately. Guess I'll head to the office bathroom to "wake up". Bleh.

Lynnette 8:33 AM

Sunday, May 15

 

I finally quit...

I finally quit my night job today. Well, I was kind enough to give actual _notice_ and work the remaining 5 or so shifts I have already been scheduled. Let's just say I won't miss sundried tomato pretzels or leftover frappucino mix any time soon... blech.

Lynnette 9:44 PM

Friday, May 13

 

You know what, Cara? I don't give a fuck about your new Dave Matthews Band CD so please fuck off.

Lynnette 1:25 PM

 

Apathy has continued into my Friday morning. I had an old filling replaced this morning and that was so dull I almost fell asleep in the dentist's chair. My lip is a bit numb, still, and when I drink my soda I feel (and look) like a stroke victim. At least I'm getting to the point where I am able to tell if my right eye is closing completely when I blink.

Nobody at my day job is really speaking to me anymore. One gal, Raj, is still groovy, and we shop over our lunch hours. However, I've pretty much given up on playing nice-nice with any of my other coworkers.

Most of the time I have a lot more going on my head than I let on. I'm not saying I'm the only one, I think generally most people are like that... at least I HOPE they are like that.... I just don't feel like chatting up a boring person. What's the point? I'll just become more bored. I'm in this "severing ties" mode and it's like if you don't want to be my friend at this point then give up trying because you're not worth my time and energy. That goes for everyone. I'm sick of bullshit small talk people feed me.

Lynnette 11:05 AM

Wednesday, May 11

 

I have officially stopped caring about my job. Oh, a point of clarification, both jobs. I don't care about either one of them. I wanna take my 10Gs, sell all my shit and hop on an Amtrak train and see what happens. Yeah. Not fucking likely.

The song "pass the dutchie" isn't stuck in my head anymore. Now it's just....blank. Sort of blank. Well, mostly blank.

I used to fuck a guy who had a nice, tailored, white bedspread. And ya know what, that bedspread was the best part about the time we "shared".

It's not even above 60 degrees here and it's May. It's MAY! Maybe I already bitched about it. Hmm. I'm giving a lot of my clothes to my coworker for when she goes back to her home country of Guyana this summer. Apparently clothes aren't growing on trees down there and a lot of family and friends of her family are very poor. I told Steve he should donate his "I Got Sauced at Famous Dave's" shirt....and then to count the months before a Pulitzer Prize photograph appears in Nat'l Geographic with a thin Guyanese child wearing the nasty shirt!

I had a cup of lemon tea today with honey and the tea was old. It was nearly flavorless and I decided to throw the rest of the box away. I have a lot of tea. For some reason lots of boxes of tea always remind me of the movie "Go Fish". If you've seen it this makes sense. If not, go rent it, or don't...I really don't care either way.

I hate being on the fence. I like decision, finality, concreteness, brightness. Brightness. Where is the freakin sun?

So the drive from Omaha to Tampa is under 24 hours. Which means we can make the drive in two days' time. Kane, our beloved cat, will have to stay with his Nonnie (my mom) until we find a place and drive back to Omaha and pick him up. I may even be able to stop at Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee on the way there. Weeee haaaa!!

Is it 4:30 yet?

Lynnette 2:21 PM

 

Welcome to Anhedonia

Not much to report, cap'n. I actually had to explain, yes explain to my department what the F7 key did when you are using a word document. F7!! Idiots. The lot of them, pure and total fucking idiots. Please save me from the hell that is this job.

My lunch hours are getting longer and longer with more and more trips to wander the nearby mall, looking for clothes that I don't need, and shoes that I will take back. Somehow it doesn't really matter that I'm leaving, and nobody seems to talk to me anymore when I'm here. I'm considering quitting my second job, but with another vacation coming up in two weeks, I'm going to appreciate having that extra cash lining my pockets.

There were 18 voicemail messages. I deleted half of them. I'm feeling lazy, and unfulfilled in my job.

Lynnette 1:38 PM

Friday, May 6

 

LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR, LABOUR!!

Lynnette 9:17 AM

Wednesday, May 4

 

The Debut...

Today I wore heels for the first time in public. Yeah you heard me bitches, heels. HEELS! Well I ain't wearin' no Trixie-the-whore-stilettos or anything, just the pair as you see pictured below..... Yes. I decided that if I feel awkward at any point just to pretend that I'm Laetitia Sadier. If you don't know who that is, it doesn't really matter much now does it?

Yesterday I figured out that I have 39 working days left. That is to say, today I have 38 left, if all goes as planned...

Lynnette 9:21 AM

Monday, May 2

 

No call, No show: or A Hitchhiker's Guide to my evening...

So after work Steve and I had a classic date: dinner and a movie. It was my evening off my night job, so I had to live it up, right? Dinner was completely forgetful and the service was terrible but we had fun together and that's what's important, kids, right? Then we headed to the movie theatre which is exactly one floor above the bookstore where I work at night, right? We walked through and I talked to two of my coworkers who were in the cafe. A little chit, a little chat, and we were on our way, right? So we picked up our tickets (and our Star Wars midnight showing tickets while we were at it) and sat down in the back row of the theatre where I like to sit so nobody can kick my seat or talk up behind me, right? I checked my phone to see if a text message I had sent earlier had been replied to, but found that I had a voicemail. Around 7pm I checked my voicemail only to find that the manager at the bookstore for that evening had called (at first I thought to ask me to fill in for some low-life who didn't show that evening) only to find that that low-life who didn't show was myself, RIGHT?! Fuck. I even said it aloud, "Fuck!" But in a quiet, hushed tone, as not to disturb the other patrons who were still, also, awaiting the start of the pre-entertainment commercials, which actually in and of themselves are not entertaining.. much.. if at all.. ever.

So I decided, fuck it, there was nothing that could be done, tickets were bought, butts had sat, and my movie was just about to begin: A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which, my boyfriend informed me as the lights dimmed, was rated PG. Yeah, I was skipping work to view a PG flick, right? Let's just say you can make up your own mind or read a thousand other reviews. My point of view was this: I had never read the book but I already knew the answer was 42. Someone told me that the last day of highschool as he was running through the halls. "42! 42!" I said, "What the hell are you talking about, Seth." (It was this redheaded kid named Seth, and we all know how I feel about redheads...) "42, is the answer to the question of life." "Cool, thanks for the info," and that was the end of high school.

Oh yeah the movie. So after the movie I called work and explained that I was extremely sorry and had just received the voicemail and had not realized that I was scheduled to work that evening. I was told that I left the store "very shorthanded this evening" which is difficult to believe considering it's a fucking bookstore on a Monday night and I'm usually bored out of my skull because the entire store is so overstaffed on the bookfloor. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, lady! Then I was told: "Okay, well just so you know you've been marked down as a no call, no show." Hmm. Neat. Back to the good part of my evening:

So I have not yet read any of the books (there are 5, right?) but I will now.. Sam Rockwell... oh those arms, Sam Rockwell MADE the fucking movie. Oh and a very, very, very tiny role played by one of the men from the British show "League of Gentlemen" (not to be confused with the sci-fi flick with the second James Bond [yes he was the second, right? Cuz I think the first James Bond was only in a single movie, then Sean took over..]) Anyhoo, Tubbs, right? Tubbs, from League of Gentlemen was in the movie... oh yes it was funny, and no cussing save for a "bollocks" here and a "sod it" there which stupid little American children don't understand. Hahaha. I need to go to bed now.

Farewell. Signed, no call, no show.

Lynnette 9:49 PM

 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone....

My friend Wendy from my day job just walked out the door; as in her last day and she left, not "Take This Job and Shove It"-style....dang, I've always wanted to do that! Anyway, she's gone which makes me think of the Bill Withers song "Ain't No Sunshine". It's a sad, sad day.

But then I thought, hey, now I know someone in Los Angeles that I can stay with if I visit. I was given the invite, not the invite where they expect people to say "oh sure, I'd like to visit you." it was more like "Bender, you and Steve had better visit me, you promise?". So I started thinking about all the places where I know people that would welcome my crashing at their place. Hmm.... Seattle, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Kansas City, Omaha, Lincoln (whoo!), New York City..... Yeah I'm set.

Amendment: I completely dissed Denver in that list. I can't believe I did that! Denver is currently the home to my Crackbaby, Amy.

Lynnette 4:04 PM

 

This Minnesota shit is for the birds....

Or should I say more specifically, for the fucking snow birds!! Yesterday was May Day, the first day of the month of May, typically a very Spring-y month, no?? Yeah, unless you live in Minnesota. It poured rain (normal, you see) and then it fuckingSNOWED and then HAILED and then again this morning on the way to work it SNOWED again. It's MAY!!! Where are the fucking 60s??

Then I come into work and get a fucking rude email from my boss who completely lacks all social skills and management ability. Fucking asshole.

And the icing on the cake, I'm sick. I'm sick very seldom, but when I'm sick, I can't handle it. I also believe I may have a pinched nerve or a disc out of alignment since I have these extremely painful, shooting pains in my hip every few minutes or so. It even woke me up in the middle of the night.

Sometimes you have to be completely frustrated before you make a decision; well I'm there. I'm so completely ready to leave everything here behind.

Lynnette 9:01 AM

Sunday, May 1

 

DREAM: Old-Time Town, Walking in Heels (again), and "Friends"...

So I had this dream that I was visiting this ... shit it's hard to describe. It was in California, I remember that, because the weather was absolutely perfect. As Candice's brother Paul would say, "Primo, fucking Primo". It was a little fake town from the late 1800s where you could dress up like that time period and walk around and talk to people who were in character. I had on this fantastic outfit, don't recall the color, but I had these kick ASS shoes with fierce heels on them. (I don't understand my dream-obsession with heels as of late, either). So when I first arrived I parked my car in the massive parking lot, and walked down to the town. I found old-fashioned pubs, grocery stores, tea shops, and bakeries. I tried a couple of samples from the bakery of graham crackers: one with a white mocha topping and another with a "boca" flavor. I'm assuming the "boca" came from the brand of veggie burgers that Steve and I buy (ya know, fucking vegan Boca Burgers man!) After wandering around and taking in the sights a group of three girls came over to me and tried to recruit me to join their suffragette movement. Joining really only consisted of donning a plastic (yeah I know real "period" appropriate) lei. Then the four of us sat around and talked for awhile.

Here's the weird part: the more we all sat around the more I realized that I couldn't care less about these people. I really didn't care what their hopes and aspirations were. I knew completely that after this day we would never "keep in touch!" like they had promised. I hate it when people are like this: they say, oh yes, I'd like to be friends, but then never really DO it. I have good friends, I have close friends. I don't need, nor I do ever enjoy friends for convenience.

Lynnette 10:04 AM

 

Sassoon, You're O.K.

What's the difference between a Fashion Popo and a Fashionista? Is a Fashionista sort of like a Fashion Nazi that the Fashion Popo go after, or are the Fashionista not fearful of the Fashion Popo because the Fashionista are fantastic dressers?? Inquiring minds want to know. If you know, please email me.

Lynnette 10:00 AM