Lately I have been very into painting. I painted my first realistic painting in forever. And I think I did a pretty good job. It's of the view from my craft room, houses and trees and mountainside using watercolors. I was pretty happy when I figured out what colors to use to paint snow. Not too bad. Usually I paint weird blobs and shades of colors. The next day I painted a slightly strange, slightly awesome picture with oils. It's of a little onion boy reaching to get out of a room via a window. I think it's absurdly rad. Then because I hadn't been messy enough with that one, I switched to acrylics and finger painted an Alaskan flag with fireweed below.
I don't think I'm a great artist, I'm just slightly artistic. I'm sure if I went to school I could be fairly good at some medium. But for now it's just fun to do. To make. It makes me feel good.
And lately not much is doing that. I'm so worried and confused and scared. I don't know what to do or not do. I don't want things to get worse, I don't want things to be over. AT ALL. I want this to get better. But what if I can't? What if I'm hanging on for hanging on's sake? I don't want to give up until I know there is nothing I can do. But I need to know what I can try and do. And I'm not getting any answers. I know I still want it. I know I still love.
Ooh, I got a tattoo this weekend. Fairly spur of the moment. We were out Friday night and I ran into my tattoo artist. For whatever reason I said that I had always wanted a mustache tattoo on my index finger. I have, but I don't know why it popped into my head. He said he would have time the next day. So I drunkenly said yes! The next morning I was so scared excited. Like am I really gonna do this? Really?? I looked them up online, apparently all the damn cool kids are doing it. I got a lot of ideas of what to do and not do. One was really funny, the guy just had the word "mustache" tattooed on his finger. Ha! But I ended up doing it and I love it. And then had a great drunk night of showing it off. On a funny side note, every time I said "Do you want to see my new tattoo?" everyone looked at my boobs. Really? Sheesh, it was funny, it seriously happened almost every time. Then I'd hold my finger up to my face and crack them up. But it's already started to fade because of where it is which is to bad, but I expected it to happen.
Last night was so crazily busy at work. Usually Wednesday's are pretty slow. We have karaoke and lame asses come in and sing. But at nine people started showing up and then it was like a parade coming in. The bar was packed and people were yelling and waving for drinks. I guess what happened was some legie's lost a bet and had to dress up like the Blues Brothers and sing. Hence super packed bar. Lucky for me Deb was there and was able to hop behind the bar and help. And help she did for like three hours. We ran out of beer, fruit, booze. It was amazing. My muscles are so sore today. Especially from lifting a full trash bag above my head to put it in the trash can. Yuck. And it was the night I had to move all the chairs too. I didn't clock out until almost 3, craziness. It felt like summer, I wish that happened more often.
I love being busy like that, it reconfirms that I'm actually a damn good bartender. I can do the job and well. And it makes me feel accomplished. It was great. Now tonight is probably going to be back to the usual of regulars pissing me off and not tipping. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
