Bucket list

I haven't seen the movie, and frankly I don't want to. Yes, let's watch old men do things and then die. Ahh, that does sound like two quality hours. Anyhoo, I do like the idea (but not the name) of a bucket list. Things to do before you kick the bucket, for those of you reading from under a rock.

I don't have a lot of things I have to do. I just don't care as much as others. But I do have at least two:

1. Get a traditional style super fucking painful tattoo. You know, the tap tap kind, not the buzz buzz modern kind. Preferably in New Zealand, one of the few faraway destinations that I really, really want to go to.
2. Go to Machu Picchu. I was just reminded of just how badly I want this when I was perusing Mrs. B's awesome pictures.

But I don't want to be pushing 60 and then decide to start crossing shit off my list. Sure, I could do these things when I'm old, buuut I don't wanna. But then I start thinking about how the hell could I afford to do either of these things anytime soon? I am going to be 60 before I can. Lame. So I must make myself do them, find ways to afford it. I spend too much money on frivolous things, I could be saving for a kick ass vaca far far away. 

What I really need to do is just work at my credit card debt. Once that's gone, if I filled it up again with a trip at least that would be more worth it than drinking and eating out.

Which brings me to quitting. I need to quit smoking. I could be saving so much money. Let's see, we'll say a pack a day, cause it pretty much is. That is $49 dollars a week at $7 a pack, $210 a month, $2,520 a YEAR. That is how much I spend, to kill myself yearly. Dear god, I don't want to get into how much I spend on drinks. Hell, even if I didn't save the money, I could afford to have cable and internet (not the spotty stolen kind), or it could go towards my debt. Or I could go to the gym, the good one in town, not the ghetto gym I used to. That's it. I have to quit again. I just need Sarah on my side this time. It's too hard to do when my lovely is still smoking after every meal. 

Anyway that turned into a lovely little ramble. Off to take pictures of Zyda while she's all sleepy and adorable.

We got a deeohgee!

Last week from the pound. We went in to look at the kittens, so Jack could have a friend. But all the kittens were already adoption pending. So we went to look at the dogs. And there she was, the cutest dog on earth. She's mostly white with large black spots, one over each eye. And when she yawns or pants her whole head opens up like a pez dispenser. Who wouldn't love her? So we met with her in a room and decided to fill out a form. We got approved and brought her home two days later. Her name at the pound was Freja, pronounced with a yah at the end. Sarah couldn't remember it, so we changed it. But we wanted to keep that yah sound so it would be any easier transition. We almost like the massively over used Bella. It's so pretty, but literally every other pit out there is named that. Then Frieda, that one almost made it. But we went with Zyda, as in zydeco music. Her full name is Zyda Mae Lion-Berry, isn't that cute? Kinda makes ya want to puke.

So far, Jack is not so happy with us for bringing a large slobbery dog into her domain. And tells us that every time she comes into the room, by hissing and scratching at Zyda. But she's just gonna have to get used to it. They're gonna be sisters and they're gonna like it.

When is too much too much?

So lately I haven't liked my job much. Or at all. I either work morning shifts which are lame because I have to get up early, deal with one or two non tipping assholes, and clean. Or go crazy from lack of mental stimulation. Then there are my night shifts, which I usually like more than not. But lately I just can't handle the same drunks trying to stagger their way in and then calling me racist when I kick them out. Yes I'm racist. Against a special race called perma-drunk. And now that my best friend is prego and another is leaving in a day, we don't have the awesome rendezcrew like we used to.
Every night it gets worse, more and more gets to me. And it's getting harder for me to be nice. It's turning me into an asshole bartender, which isn't fair to my bosses or the customers or me. I don't want to be a dick. I have a regular who I absolutely hate. He's what I'd call a leftover from the old ownership when it was a real shithole of a bar. He sits on this raised patio area and barks orders all night long. And if I happen to ignore him because I'm helping customers right in front of me, he comes up and yells at me. And threatens to tell my bosses. Yeah, okay dude.
But Friday was the worst. First off, I don't work Fridays anymore, but I was filling in. Right after I got there and it was getting busy, he starts in. Bitching left and right. I didn't have time to yell at him and just ignored him and his drunken friends. Later on in the night the cops came in to survey the scene, which they usually do. But this time the customer decided to tell them how to do their jobs. Big surprise, since that's what he does to me every day. But then he doesn't get out of their faces and they have to forcibly remove him from the bar. Are you fucking kidding me?! I was so mad at him for being a dick and pretty much getting me in trouble. So I was freaking out while they talked to him. I could go to jail if they decided he was too drunk to be in the bar. Luckily they came back in and said it wasn't my fault. Holy crap, talk about a free pass!
Then the really bad customer incident happened.
So this uber-asshole and his whiney wife came in and wanted beer and pull tabs. It was too busy for pull tabs so Sevanni told them that. They immediately started bitching and moaning. They kept pestering her and she finally told them no, just leave. The dude starts yelling really aggressively, so I walk over and pull their drinks and tell them to leave. Then the dude starts yelling at me. And I'm not gonna lie, he is an intimidating looking man. He then tells me, "big mistake. You forget what a small, small town this is. I'll see you again." So that's when I lose it and tell him to get the fuck out of the bar. His ho wife goes to the bathroom and he walks towards the door. When I see he's still inside I walk over and tell him to get the fuck out again. Pretty much yell it at him. He yells back that he's not leaving and to call the cops. Finally he leaves after a lot of yelling. I went back to work and was shaking so hard I couldn't hold a glass. Customers I didn't even serve came up and asked if I was okay. A girl bought me a shot. So nice. Why can't they all be nice?
So I was kind of shook up all night after that. I mean really, what if he did wait for me to get out of work? It was a Friday so at least they're would be two of us. But if he waits on a Wednesday or Thursday, I leave alone. That is fucking crazy. My job is not anywhere worth being afraid for my life. And he is one of the few crazy ones I would actually fear.
Big choices must be made. And soon.

Fam-Damily

First off, I am not happy that our pirated wifi in our apartment isn't working. How inconsiderate of others to not let me sap free internet from them:) This leaves me to hanging out in the bar during the day and using theirs. I would rather be at home "multitasking", ie doing ah load of laundry and blogging, but no, I have to go to the bar. And now that the Imperial's wifi isn't working well or at all, I have to use the Rendezvous'. I hate hanging out at work before I have to work. Hate it. But it's a means. Anyway life recap:
Sarah's whole frickin family came to Juneau. Holy crap. First her twin sister and her husband came in on Thursday afternoon. They're nice fun folks. We took them to the brewery, always a good place to start. Then that evening her mom, dad, brother and his wife came into town. I didn't meet them until 7am the next morning when they decided to have breakfast. After I had to work and close the bar down, thanks guys.
Friday we did soooo many tourist things, we should be guides. We took them to Costa's for breakfast, went to the glacier, hiked to the falls near it, half of them saw a bear. Then we went to the Salmon Bake, damn it's gross food, but it was fun. The the salmon hatchery to see what they had just ate. Then we went on a whale watching tour with Sarah's old company and capt. And we saw whales! Sarah and I needed some drinks after spending the day sneaking cigarettes and not holding hands in front of her fam, so we had oh, a couple:) And we may have stayed out till bar close.
Saturday the bro in law had some road race to run, fool. So we slept in as long as we could. Which wasn't long. That day the kids all went fishing and Sarah and I got supplies for rockabilly night.
Sunday they went out to Tracy Arm, I really wish I could have gone. It's so pretty out there, just amazing. But no, I was stuck at the sucky bar.
The visit overall was fine, everyone was nice. It was a little weird to not feel comfortable being how I want to be. But the funniest part of the visit was Sarah's sister in law. We were eating dinner the night before they were to go to Tracy Arm. Sarah said we had some gloves they could borrow and I asked her if she knew where they were. She said they were above the kitty litter, and so I said we probably had several pairs they could borrow. Then "super nice but head in a hole" sister in law exclaims "I get it! You two are roommates!" Yes, we're roommates. In a one bedroom. With one bed. That's why I get up early to have breakfast with you after working all night at the bar. Because I'm Sarah's roommate. Oy. But it was so funny when she said it, I had to turn my head and look out the window and start talking about the weather so I wouldn't start laughing.
But they're all gone now so I can go back to being all sappy and lovey to Sarah wherever I feel like it.