So today is my last day at this hotel.
I have one final shift to get through and then I'm gone. There will not be a going away party, because I work the graveyard shift and because no one ever throws these kind of things. I've been taking some time to really think about everything that's ever happened here, all the things that I've gone through while working here...
It's a lot. I know it's only been two years, and how everyone older than me is probably smiling and thinking "just wait until you're at xxx age" and I know that I'll look back on this in a couple years and grin at how little I don't know writing this.
Just sitting here thinking about all the people I've met, all the events I've been through, how much I've grown up and changed.
It feels like this is the end of me playing it safe. I'm going to school, for something absolutely amazing and also really different. I feel like I should have known what it was I wanted to do when I was younger, but I'm also really grateful for everything I've accomplished and gone through up until today. The good and the bad. I made a lot of friends working here and I can honestly say I'm going to miss some people.
I don't really have any new hotel stories. This blog kind of lost its way I think, in that department at least. I've made some amazing friends from starting this blog, and I appreciate everyone who reads it. Just knowing that a few of you take time out of your blogging life to read my rambling bullshit means a lot to me. Thank you.
On a completely related note, I have this idea to start a blog separate from this about the journey (I feel so ridiculous saying journey, but that's what it is...yay tangents) I'm going on to become an ASL/English Interpreter. My plan is to start a YouTube account and link the two together, and talk about the challenges and awesome people and opportunities that happen to me while I'm out east or wherever I end up.
If/When I start said blog, I will clearly tell you amazing people about it. Assuming y'all weren't just here for the whores and dealers.
Thanks for sticking with me, guys.
Really.
Monday, 25 June 2012
Thursday, 21 June 2012
Sweet Baby Jesus, I'm Still Alive, I Swear
Okay so this isn't a real post, but more of a "I'm still alive and here's where I'm at in the world so far"
I just had my last shift slinging ice cream. It was bittersweet and full of kids I didn't want to crotch shot, so that was pleasant.
I am working three more shifts (Thursday, Sunday and Monday) at the hotel and then that is also done and I'm officially jobless. Which is scaring the fucking shit out of me because let's face it, I'm a workoholic and an entire week off and then magically I need to find a job in another province that is very NOT HELPFUL with the believing I'm coming there... sigh. 'Hole other rant, kids. Whole other rant.
I haven't packed at all.
I'm a goddamn procrastinator, this shouldn't shock anyone who knows me.
I have this weekend off, and because my parents are wonderful and I suspect they're also slightly concerned about my tank of a car actually killing me on this adventure, they're making me take it into the mechanics so Ill be without transportation. Maybe I'll get some packing and organizing done then?
It's all happening really fast and a lot of things still need to come together and I'm realising just how unprepared I am to leave Ontario (stalkers, I'm moving, so, calm yo tits.) but, I'm also really really excited.
I have plans to hang out with people I haven't been able to in years, and meet family that has been born in my time away! Exciting shit, yes?
So. I'm stressed, I'm freaking out and I'm really excited.
I have... 12 days until I leave my house and not come back.
In 16 days I'll be unpacking and hopefully stealing internet so I can post here again and let you guys know I'm safe and sound and how ghetto my new place really is.
So much to do, so many people to say goodbye to.... it's silly.
Sidenote, everytime I say "say goodbye to" I keep thinking of that scene in Titanic where the little girl is crying as she gets onto the boat with her mom and sister and the dad is all, "It's only goodbye for a little while. Just a little while!"
Random fucking shit, yo.
Alright. I should go and pretend I'm training, I guess.
Which we cannot discuss on here. Kill me now, and pray for this poor hotel.
Quality of service shall plummet when my ass leaves.
I hope everyone is alive and all that!
I just had my last shift slinging ice cream. It was bittersweet and full of kids I didn't want to crotch shot, so that was pleasant.
I am working three more shifts (Thursday, Sunday and Monday) at the hotel and then that is also done and I'm officially jobless. Which is scaring the fucking shit out of me because let's face it, I'm a workoholic and an entire week off and then magically I need to find a job in another province that is very NOT HELPFUL with the believing I'm coming there... sigh. 'Hole other rant, kids. Whole other rant.
I haven't packed at all.
I'm a goddamn procrastinator, this shouldn't shock anyone who knows me.
I have this weekend off, and because my parents are wonderful and I suspect they're also slightly concerned about my tank of a car actually killing me on this adventure, they're making me take it into the mechanics so Ill be without transportation. Maybe I'll get some packing and organizing done then?
It's all happening really fast and a lot of things still need to come together and I'm realising just how unprepared I am to leave Ontario (stalkers, I'm moving, so, calm yo tits.) but, I'm also really really excited.
I have plans to hang out with people I haven't been able to in years, and meet family that has been born in my time away! Exciting shit, yes?
So. I'm stressed, I'm freaking out and I'm really excited.
I have... 12 days until I leave my house and not come back.
In 16 days I'll be unpacking and hopefully stealing internet so I can post here again and let you guys know I'm safe and sound and how ghetto my new place really is.
So much to do, so many people to say goodbye to.... it's silly.
Sidenote, everytime I say "say goodbye to" I keep thinking of that scene in Titanic where the little girl is crying as she gets onto the boat with her mom and sister and the dad is all, "It's only goodbye for a little while. Just a little while!"
Random fucking shit, yo.
Alright. I should go and pretend I'm training, I guess.
Which we cannot discuss on here. Kill me now, and pray for this poor hotel.
Quality of service shall plummet when my ass leaves.
I hope everyone is alive and all that!
Monday, 4 June 2012
Jaclyn's Gonna Feel Like An Asshole; A Love Story/Update
So, I realise I've basically dropped
off the face of the Earth this past month. I promise I have not died,
or been attacked or killed by the pimps and whores. I'm just in the
crazy process of packing up my entire life, working 15 hours a day
and training a new girl to take over the hotel gig, and getting ready
to move myself to another province. Insanity, to say the least. So
much has happened that I could talk about, and will eventually
because this week and next I don't have to train the new girl so I
should be able to slack a bit more and write more blogs, but today
I'm trying to peel off a post because Jaclyn is an asshole.
I say that with love, of course. Some stabby thoughts but mostly love. Because I listen to the internet when the internet tells me I need to pay attention to the tags I've been given. Mainly, that she tagged me in the 11 things about me, 11 questions I have to answer and then I have to tag 11 people for this shit so it's a vicious circle of kinda cool but really annoying if you're just coming back to your blog after almost a month of being blogdead.
Anywhore.
11 Things About Me
1. I'm 23 years old, turning 24 in September. Birthday E-Cards are expected now.
2. For my 16th birthday my mom let me dye one side of my hair black and the other half bright red. The day after my 16th birthday I went and got my drivers license, and that picture was forced upon me until this year. Clearly I pissed off an instructor in a past life because I would trade that terrible picture over the one I currently have.
3. I broke my right arm/wrist enough times as a kid that teachers forced me to learn to write with my left hand because I was missing too much work. I can still write with both hands now, even though the left hand looks like I'm in the second grade still.
4. I miss playing volleyball more than I'll ever admit. Except for right now.
5. I hid my first tattoo from my mom for almost two years before my (now ex) fiance made me tell her. I don't know if I would have told her otherwise. Everyone in my family except for my gramma and mom found out before she did, and my gramma only found out because my mom needed her to have a distraction while we were going up to visit my uncle in the hospital. I have 8 tattoos and 2 of them are actually of my gramma, when she was 17 and doing a model shoot.
6. I am 2 weeks away from having my Level 2 in ASL and I couldn't be more excited. Except maybe when I get my Level 3 and 4, and can finally converse at a higher speed.
7. I keep the letter that Jaclyn mailed me during the anniversary of my last miscarriage in my bag all the time. I still tear up when I read it.
8. I started writing this so another community I'm a part of would be able to read the stories, and because I had a friend who wanted me to write a work (sort of) friendly blog. My last blog was so incredibly not safe for work that it makes all of this tame.
9. I have always wanted blue eyes, but I've grown to like how intensely dark my brown ones are. I hate contacts though, so I'll never be able to change my eye colour.
10. Moving to Nova Scotia is probably the best thing I'll ever do for myself, even if my family is so very against the idea of me being so far away. I have 16 more days of working 2 jobs, 21 more of working any jobs in Ontario and 28 more of being in this province at all. The closer I get to leaving the more stressed and excited I get. I'm so excited to go on the road trip I'm planning, but so fucking scared I'm gonna fail. I think that fear is healthy though, because I know it'll make me more stubborn and I won't give up unless I'm dying or something drastic happens.
11. I'm 95% sure there is a porn being filmed in my hotel right now. The fact that I'm not doing anything about it, should speak to everyone about how little fucks I give anymore.
Jaclyn's Questions She Asked Me (This is where she will feel like an asshole. Or not.)
1. Who wronged you this week? Go ahead, vent. You know you want to.
I say that with love, of course. Some stabby thoughts but mostly love. Because I listen to the internet when the internet tells me I need to pay attention to the tags I've been given. Mainly, that she tagged me in the 11 things about me, 11 questions I have to answer and then I have to tag 11 people for this shit so it's a vicious circle of kinda cool but really annoying if you're just coming back to your blog after almost a month of being blogdead.
Anywhore.
11 Things About Me
1. I'm 23 years old, turning 24 in September. Birthday E-Cards are expected now.
2. For my 16th birthday my mom let me dye one side of my hair black and the other half bright red. The day after my 16th birthday I went and got my drivers license, and that picture was forced upon me until this year. Clearly I pissed off an instructor in a past life because I would trade that terrible picture over the one I currently have.
3. I broke my right arm/wrist enough times as a kid that teachers forced me to learn to write with my left hand because I was missing too much work. I can still write with both hands now, even though the left hand looks like I'm in the second grade still.
4. I miss playing volleyball more than I'll ever admit. Except for right now.
5. I hid my first tattoo from my mom for almost two years before my (now ex) fiance made me tell her. I don't know if I would have told her otherwise. Everyone in my family except for my gramma and mom found out before she did, and my gramma only found out because my mom needed her to have a distraction while we were going up to visit my uncle in the hospital. I have 8 tattoos and 2 of them are actually of my gramma, when she was 17 and doing a model shoot.
6. I am 2 weeks away from having my Level 2 in ASL and I couldn't be more excited. Except maybe when I get my Level 3 and 4, and can finally converse at a higher speed.
7. I keep the letter that Jaclyn mailed me during the anniversary of my last miscarriage in my bag all the time. I still tear up when I read it.
8. I started writing this so another community I'm a part of would be able to read the stories, and because I had a friend who wanted me to write a work (sort of) friendly blog. My last blog was so incredibly not safe for work that it makes all of this tame.
9. I have always wanted blue eyes, but I've grown to like how intensely dark my brown ones are. I hate contacts though, so I'll never be able to change my eye colour.
10. Moving to Nova Scotia is probably the best thing I'll ever do for myself, even if my family is so very against the idea of me being so far away. I have 16 more days of working 2 jobs, 21 more of working any jobs in Ontario and 28 more of being in this province at all. The closer I get to leaving the more stressed and excited I get. I'm so excited to go on the road trip I'm planning, but so fucking scared I'm gonna fail. I think that fear is healthy though, because I know it'll make me more stubborn and I won't give up unless I'm dying or something drastic happens.
11. I'm 95% sure there is a porn being filmed in my hotel right now. The fact that I'm not doing anything about it, should speak to everyone about how little fucks I give anymore.
Jaclyn's Questions She Asked Me (This is where she will feel like an asshole. Or not.)
1. Who wronged you this week? Go ahead, vent. You know you want to.
All of the fucking infants who work at the Dairy Queen. Their lack of bullshit motivation to get anything done and my inability to not give a fuck while working means that I fucked my back up somehow, and I got sick, and they aren't fucking working. Oh, and the people who fucked up my coffee order on Friday morning. I had to drive three hours to say goodbye with NO GODDAMN COFFEE IN MY SYSTEM. It was TERRIBLE, for everyone involved.
2. Top 5 bangable celebrities
a)
Chris Evans
b) Ryan Gosling (Fuck you, he's Canadian and I'm sorry, but, yum.)
c) Mila Kunis (Don't judge.)
d) Ryan Hurst
e) Norman Reedus
3. 5 completely unbangable celebrities (for the record, I don't get the whole Ryan Gosling thing. I guess he's not technically "unbangable", but I wouldn't hit it. At all. Please don't chase me with sticks. It had to be said).
I won't chase you with sticks. I'll just continue to mock you for your shitty taste in men. OH SNAP that was more of a burn than I meant for it to be.
a) Lance Bass
b) David Hasselhoff
c) Katy Perry
d) Steve from Blues Clues
e) Mister Rogers
4. Tell me the story of the drunkest you've ever been. If you don't remember all the details, feel free to make some shit up.
This one time, at band camp, ... no. Kidding. Drunkest I've ever been? Jesus. My dad reads this blog. ....alright, no longer caring about that (And to be fair, people can skip this part) I think the drunkest I've ever been was at a party I had at my parents house when I was 19. They had gone to Vegas or somewhere far away and knew I was having the party, because I have been a responsible child like that and let my parents know when to expect the neighbours to complain and shit, plus I've never invited the entire school to my house because I'm not a goddamn moron. Anywhore, a group of us (I think there were... 30? less than? Who the fuck knows.) had gotten together and we were just dancing and drinking and someone was stupid and OH MY GOD THIS WASN'T THE DRUNKEST I'VE EVER BEEN.
Drunkest I've ever been was at someone elses house and a group of us decided (well I think it was one of the guys in the group, but we'll all take blame for this shit) that we should do a vodka shot contest, and I was the only girl who lasted past 5 shots. I was only friends with pussies back then, apparently, but the competition continued on until there was me and one of the guys and he was ready to tap out, but I was a determined bitch and I crawled over bodies of drunken people to get to the next bottle of vodka, and double fisted shots so I could seal the victory at a ridiculous 15 shots.
Yeah. 15 shots of vodka and I didn't puke, or overdose. Or at least, didn't overdose to the point where people took me to the hospital. Fucking absurd. I can't drink vodka today though without wanting to die. It's like my body remembers what I did to it that night, back when I was a mere 17? 18? I feel like 17 is the right age answer here.
5. What did you want to be when you grew up? How is that working out for you? Please tell me why you failed to reach the goals you set for yourself when you were 8.
When I was 8 I wanted to be a mom and a writer. When I grew up a bit more I wanted to be a mom and a writer and a lawyer. When I grew up in high school I went back to wanting to be just a mom and a writer. When I turned 20 and miscarried the first time, I wasn't deterred, same for the next two miscarriages. I'm still gonna be a mom, and I am a writer. I may not be making any money off of it yet, but it's happening.
Now that I'm an old 23 years old, I'm hoping by the time I'm 27 I'll be an ASL/English Interpreter. And a writer. And maybe a mom, but maybe not until a bit later. Let's get me through school first.
6. You have to be in a room with Newt Gingrich for an hour. Do you end it all?
If I knew who the fuck you were talking about maybe.
7. Song you hate the most and why.
Anything by Nicki Minaj. Because she's fucking retarded. I'm sorry. I can't stand her and turn her and Drake off my radio anytime they come on. My whole body shakes with hatred.
8. First and last name of the first boy you ever had a huge crush on, so when that narcissitic asshole Googles himself, he will know all your private shame.
This is where Jaclyn will feel like an asshole, because the first boy I ever had a huge crush on is dead now. Royce Hickman. Grade six through eight, I swooned over his blonde locks and Russian figure skater looks. When we hit high school and he had a locker near mine, I had basically died and gone to heaven. We lost touch in grade ten, even though we went to the same school all four years of high school. He was a sweet kid who hung out with the wrong kids in high school, got out of all that shit and was doing well before he died in a car crash that to this day no one knows wtf happened. That was almost three years ago.
9. Do you like me? Circle one ---- yes no I like you so much I know your social security number
If you have to ask, you'll never know. If you already know, you only need ask.
10. Why did the chicken cross the road (I suspect hallucinogens but please tell me your theories)?
Because the cock was there.
11. Hot air balloon or white water raft? (I'm not even going to give you context here. Tell me a good story)
b) Ryan Gosling (Fuck you, he's Canadian and I'm sorry, but, yum.)
c) Mila Kunis (Don't judge.)
d) Ryan Hurst
e) Norman Reedus
3. 5 completely unbangable celebrities (for the record, I don't get the whole Ryan Gosling thing. I guess he's not technically "unbangable", but I wouldn't hit it. At all. Please don't chase me with sticks. It had to be said).
I won't chase you with sticks. I'll just continue to mock you for your shitty taste in men. OH SNAP that was more of a burn than I meant for it to be.
a) Lance Bass
b) David Hasselhoff
c) Katy Perry
d) Steve from Blues Clues
e) Mister Rogers
4. Tell me the story of the drunkest you've ever been. If you don't remember all the details, feel free to make some shit up.
This one time, at band camp, ... no. Kidding. Drunkest I've ever been? Jesus. My dad reads this blog. ....alright, no longer caring about that (And to be fair, people can skip this part) I think the drunkest I've ever been was at a party I had at my parents house when I was 19. They had gone to Vegas or somewhere far away and knew I was having the party, because I have been a responsible child like that and let my parents know when to expect the neighbours to complain and shit, plus I've never invited the entire school to my house because I'm not a goddamn moron. Anywhore, a group of us (I think there were... 30? less than? Who the fuck knows.) had gotten together and we were just dancing and drinking and someone was stupid and OH MY GOD THIS WASN'T THE DRUNKEST I'VE EVER BEEN.
Drunkest I've ever been was at someone elses house and a group of us decided (well I think it was one of the guys in the group, but we'll all take blame for this shit) that we should do a vodka shot contest, and I was the only girl who lasted past 5 shots. I was only friends with pussies back then, apparently, but the competition continued on until there was me and one of the guys and he was ready to tap out, but I was a determined bitch and I crawled over bodies of drunken people to get to the next bottle of vodka, and double fisted shots so I could seal the victory at a ridiculous 15 shots.
Yeah. 15 shots of vodka and I didn't puke, or overdose. Or at least, didn't overdose to the point where people took me to the hospital. Fucking absurd. I can't drink vodka today though without wanting to die. It's like my body remembers what I did to it that night, back when I was a mere 17? 18? I feel like 17 is the right age answer here.
5. What did you want to be when you grew up? How is that working out for you? Please tell me why you failed to reach the goals you set for yourself when you were 8.
When I was 8 I wanted to be a mom and a writer. When I grew up a bit more I wanted to be a mom and a writer and a lawyer. When I grew up in high school I went back to wanting to be just a mom and a writer. When I turned 20 and miscarried the first time, I wasn't deterred, same for the next two miscarriages. I'm still gonna be a mom, and I am a writer. I may not be making any money off of it yet, but it's happening.
Now that I'm an old 23 years old, I'm hoping by the time I'm 27 I'll be an ASL/English Interpreter. And a writer. And maybe a mom, but maybe not until a bit later. Let's get me through school first.
6. You have to be in a room with Newt Gingrich for an hour. Do you end it all?
If I knew who the fuck you were talking about maybe.
7. Song you hate the most and why.
Anything by Nicki Minaj. Because she's fucking retarded. I'm sorry. I can't stand her and turn her and Drake off my radio anytime they come on. My whole body shakes with hatred.
8. First and last name of the first boy you ever had a huge crush on, so when that narcissitic asshole Googles himself, he will know all your private shame.
This is where Jaclyn will feel like an asshole, because the first boy I ever had a huge crush on is dead now. Royce Hickman. Grade six through eight, I swooned over his blonde locks and Russian figure skater looks. When we hit high school and he had a locker near mine, I had basically died and gone to heaven. We lost touch in grade ten, even though we went to the same school all four years of high school. He was a sweet kid who hung out with the wrong kids in high school, got out of all that shit and was doing well before he died in a car crash that to this day no one knows wtf happened. That was almost three years ago.
9. Do you like me? Circle one ---- yes no I like you so much I know your social security number
If you have to ask, you'll never know. If you already know, you only need ask.
10. Why did the chicken cross the road (I suspect hallucinogens but please tell me your theories)?
Because the cock was there.
11. Hot air balloon or white water raft? (I'm not even going to give you context here. Tell me a good story)
Hot air balloon.
More likely able to have sex and not die.
I'm not tagging
anyone. I'm too lazy for that shit. Here are some questions for you
though, if you feel so inclined to answer.
- Favourite time of day?
- How many chucks could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
- Dream job and why aren't you doing it?
- Name five movies that John Hughes made.
- What book changed your life?
- How many pictures of you are on the internet?
- What time is it right now?
- Thing you love the most about winter, thing you hate the most about summer?
- Do you know any other languages?
- Favourite smell?
- You can only take four things with you to a desert island. What do you take and why?
And now I have to
go and finish my chores for the morning.
I'll try to blog
about more real shit tomorrow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)