My alarm woke me up at 8:30 a.m. this morning. I opened one eye, grunted, cursed, said 'nope', turned it off, and curled up into the fetal position. This was six hours ago. I have now just awoken and am eating leftover Mediterranean Express from last night. In laymen's turns: I hella slept through my classes.
Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" is running through my head at this moment. You know the line... "we don't need no education, we don't need no thought control... etc etc, teacher! leave them kids alone!"
god. I hate college. funny how I plan on going to grad school after this so I can procrastinate some more and rack up an even larger student loan debt... just so I won't have to actually start working a 9-5 gig. maybe I can work at Domino's for the rest of my life. (ugh)
Which reminds me... I have to go to work in an hour and a half. goddamnit. goddamn it all to hell. You know, I only made $4 in tips last night. $4!!!! I delivered all night to one white person and 10 black people. now, I KNOW my theory is correct! Black people are hella cheap! The $4 tip? All from a white girl that lives on capitol hill. NOW WHO'S RACIST???? not me!
I do have a story though. The guy that works at Mediterranean Express usually gives me free food when I come in at night, but I haven't been lately because I don't get breaks and I've been getting out about 2-3 hours after they close up. Well, the guy actually comes inside Domino's and inquires where I am. I get a call from up front, go outside, puzzled as to who would want to speak to me, and lo and behold he hands me a little lunch bag! Guess what was inside! A lamb kabob sandwich and spanikopita! He remembers my order and he just gave it to me! NO! Let me rephrase! He FINDS me to give me a little snack on my runs! Man, I usually hate people, but they sure know how to prove me wrong sometimes. People are fucking nice.
It's such a nice day, well, from what my weather widget tells me - it seems like it's a nice day. I haven't left the house yet, the room is dark, the curtains are drawn, but Macbook tells me it's 45 degrees out and the sun is shining. I wish I could go down to Pike Place and walk around, it's been forever... but I have to go to work. I wanted to go to the Fremont Flea Market this sunday because I haven't been back since summer, but alas, I am also working in the morning. who the hell orders pizzas at 10 a.m. on Sundays?
I guess I need the hours. I have expenses (lolz). rent, groceries, gas, a pair of vintage chanel earrings at VU's on layaway, New Zealand trip, new lens for my camera, new cell phone (mine's been crapping out on me)... random shit that when I really think about, I ask myself "do I really need any of these things?" I understand the essentials. maslow's levels of hierarchy come into play: food, shelter, water... but then again carolyn's levels of absolute necessities somehow squash poor maslow: chanel, photography, traveling, communication.
I am a liberal arts degree major after all. And the worst kind too: journalism. One of the easiest degrees to get. Too bad I can't even wake up to go to classes.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
I am crap
I am a terrible writer. A buffoon. A fraud.
This day sucked a fatty nut. I don't want to go to an hour information session on sanitation at Dominos. I don't even have a food handlers card and yet they still make me make pizzas. HYPOCRITES the whole lot of corporate America.
goddamn
This day sucked a fatty nut. I don't want to go to an hour information session on sanitation at Dominos. I don't even have a food handlers card and yet they still make me make pizzas. HYPOCRITES the whole lot of corporate America.
goddamn
Sunday, January 25, 2009
There and Back Again
Flew to JFK. Bussed it to D.C. Spent the night in a hostel. Was near the Lincoln Memorial at the 3rd jumbotron when Obama was sworn in. Bussed it back up to NYC. Walked around Central Park. Got a tattoo on my last night in the city. Flew back to Seattle/The Shire/home. The end.
Washington D.C.; The National Mall
New York City; en route to Union Square
New York City; East Village tattoo parlor
The alternative title of The Hobbit in runes translates to: There and Back Again
Gandalf:I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.
Bilbo Baggins: I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!
-JRR Tolkien "The Hobbit"
Oh, the life of a weary traveler.
Washington D.C.; International Student Center Hostel
Washington D.C.; The National Mall
New York City; landscape view from Central Park
New York City; en route to Union Square
New York City; NYU/Liz's dorm. Aubrey Jackson - fellow traveler and companion
New York City; East Village tattoo parlor
The alternative title of The Hobbit in runes translates to: There and Back Again
Gandalf:I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.
Bilbo Baggins: I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!
-JRR Tolkien "The Hobbit"
Oh, the life of a weary traveler.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Goodbye Seattle
A great last day before I head off to New York City tomorrow. Wish us luck.... too bad this day by the lake went by too fast.
love, carolyn
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
"It's just pizza, kid."
I just came back from a 10 hour shift from working for The Man. The Man is known as Dominos. Dominos is Corporate America. Carolyn is another ant working for the fat pregnant queen bee. I am tired as fuck. I have no life. I wake up, go to classes, come home, take a nap, work late into the night, come back, take another nap - repeat. Hell, I've been so tired and busy that I haven't had time to blog lately. Now that's just absurd- I ALWAYS find time to blog!
Well, I've picked the worst opportune time to blog. I have class in 7 hours and an essay due. I foresee a dragged out all-nighter. I feel like crying. Wudda a load on my plate. I am officially trying a hand at a so-called balanced life: school, work, relationship, friendships, social obligations... it's a trying time and I am exhausted. The idea of waking up in the morning to begin another day kills me a little bit inside. I do all of this to afford the "good" life: the ability to be financially independent from my parents. Such shit. I am so tempted to quit, call up the folks and ask them to send me a fatty check. But what good would that do? I'm nineteen. I'm not 14 anymore. It's time to grow up. Suck it up: work hard, study hard, and play hard.
I am making hella bank though. I get around $30-60 in tips a night. I enjoy the company of my co-workers, being able to smoke in my car, explore Seattle, listen to my own music and experience the joy of getting a nice fatty tip. The people that work at Dominos are an interesting bunch... I have become quite chummy with the other fellow drivers. They treat me like one of their own. I think they find me a little amusing though. A small, frail, woman delivery driver. One of a kind. They are beyond nice to me and I am grateful for not getting a bunch of douchebags; instead they tell me all the little secrets on how to navigate around the city in a more efficient way and they always have my back. I have become good friends with the two Indian drivers - they are always happy to see me! It's a nice feeling. I have also become friends with a UW kid, he's 22 and married. Who on earth gets married at 22? And get this - he married a Vietnamese girl. lol. The white guy and the asian girl stereotype again. Hilarious. These people are quite a bunch of characters and I enjoy their company immensely.
Everytime I walk into Dominos, I feel like I'm learning some great big important life lesson. Pay attention, Carolyn - the universe is trying to tell you something. First of all, let me state the obivous. The cheapest people in the world aren't jews. They're fat black guys that order Dominos late at night and never tip you. NEVER. They count out the EXACT amount - right to the penny, and they say "have a good one" and stare at you until you leave. I've learned my lesson tonight. Don't ever loiter around a fat black man hoping they'll grudgingly cave and give you a couple of dollars - it ain't gonna happen. I've already tried it many times.
Second, according to Kevin (who lives in Wallingford ,whose favorite movie is Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and whose idol is Hunter S. Thompson), he told me the world's greatest advice that I've ever heard in my entire fucking life: "It's just pizza, kid." Isn't that just fucking mindblowing? It IS just fucking pizza! For some reason, when he said those words to me, I just got this big slap in the face epiphany eat your heart out self-deprecating whiny little girl: it is just fucking pizza - not the end of the world.
I have definitely explored enough of Seattle... eastlake, montlake, judkins park, capitol hill, downtown, ballard... fuck. People are lazy as hell. It's called carryout. jesus.
This job definitely has it's perks. Mediterreanean Express has been one of my favorite Seattle haunts to grab a bite to eat at ... and now I get to eat there for FREE. "For you kid, everything here is on the house," Kristal, the head chef and manager. "For the new Domino's delivery driver." Even Tacos Guyamos is being really nice to me as well - everyone always waves to me everytime I get dispatched and walk past their window. Free food and tips. I never have to go hungry again.
I already have quite a few interesting stories under my belt. A guy I delivered to a few days ago actually rang up Dominos again, ordered another pizza and requested that I delivered it. Everyone in the whole fucking room starting laughing. They thought it was the funniest thing. I guess they never had someone request a driver before. Another similiar incident - I had to deliver an order to 410 4th Ave, which is apparently a fucking correctional facility lol. So, the guy, "Harris" comes out, gives me the money, grabs his shit, and grudgingly gives me a dollar in tip and walks inside. I go back to Dominos, I get another order to deliver to the exact same place. 410 4th ave. The order is from a "Jim". I go back, go inside the scary place filled with bad people that have done bad things, and it's the same guy. "Jim" is "Harris". "Harris" is "Jim." He just wanted to see me again. jesus lol. Seattle, you're crazy.
I am debating if I shoudl take a fatty nap before I attemp this essay. It's 3:30 a.m. and I hate my life.
But then again, it's just pizza, right?
Well, I've picked the worst opportune time to blog. I have class in 7 hours and an essay due. I foresee a dragged out all-nighter. I feel like crying. Wudda a load on my plate. I am officially trying a hand at a so-called balanced life: school, work, relationship, friendships, social obligations... it's a trying time and I am exhausted. The idea of waking up in the morning to begin another day kills me a little bit inside. I do all of this to afford the "good" life: the ability to be financially independent from my parents. Such shit. I am so tempted to quit, call up the folks and ask them to send me a fatty check. But what good would that do? I'm nineteen. I'm not 14 anymore. It's time to grow up. Suck it up: work hard, study hard, and play hard.
I am making hella bank though. I get around $30-60 in tips a night. I enjoy the company of my co-workers, being able to smoke in my car, explore Seattle, listen to my own music and experience the joy of getting a nice fatty tip. The people that work at Dominos are an interesting bunch... I have become quite chummy with the other fellow drivers. They treat me like one of their own. I think they find me a little amusing though. A small, frail, woman delivery driver. One of a kind. They are beyond nice to me and I am grateful for not getting a bunch of douchebags; instead they tell me all the little secrets on how to navigate around the city in a more efficient way and they always have my back. I have become good friends with the two Indian drivers - they are always happy to see me! It's a nice feeling. I have also become friends with a UW kid, he's 22 and married. Who on earth gets married at 22? And get this - he married a Vietnamese girl. lol. The white guy and the asian girl stereotype again. Hilarious. These people are quite a bunch of characters and I enjoy their company immensely.
Everytime I walk into Dominos, I feel like I'm learning some great big important life lesson. Pay attention, Carolyn - the universe is trying to tell you something. First of all, let me state the obivous. The cheapest people in the world aren't jews. They're fat black guys that order Dominos late at night and never tip you. NEVER. They count out the EXACT amount - right to the penny, and they say "have a good one" and stare at you until you leave. I've learned my lesson tonight. Don't ever loiter around a fat black man hoping they'll grudgingly cave and give you a couple of dollars - it ain't gonna happen. I've already tried it many times.
Second, according to Kevin (who lives in Wallingford ,whose favorite movie is Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and whose idol is Hunter S. Thompson), he told me the world's greatest advice that I've ever heard in my entire fucking life: "It's just pizza, kid." Isn't that just fucking mindblowing? It IS just fucking pizza! For some reason, when he said those words to me, I just got this big slap in the face epiphany eat your heart out self-deprecating whiny little girl: it is just fucking pizza - not the end of the world.
I have definitely explored enough of Seattle... eastlake, montlake, judkins park, capitol hill, downtown, ballard... fuck. People are lazy as hell. It's called carryout. jesus.
This job definitely has it's perks. Mediterreanean Express has been one of my favorite Seattle haunts to grab a bite to eat at ... and now I get to eat there for FREE. "For you kid, everything here is on the house," Kristal, the head chef and manager. "For the new Domino's delivery driver." Even Tacos Guyamos is being really nice to me as well - everyone always waves to me everytime I get dispatched and walk past their window. Free food and tips. I never have to go hungry again.
I already have quite a few interesting stories under my belt. A guy I delivered to a few days ago actually rang up Dominos again, ordered another pizza and requested that I delivered it. Everyone in the whole fucking room starting laughing. They thought it was the funniest thing. I guess they never had someone request a driver before. Another similiar incident - I had to deliver an order to 410 4th Ave, which is apparently a fucking correctional facility lol. So, the guy, "Harris" comes out, gives me the money, grabs his shit, and grudgingly gives me a dollar in tip and walks inside. I go back to Dominos, I get another order to deliver to the exact same place. 410 4th ave. The order is from a "Jim". I go back, go inside the scary place filled with bad people that have done bad things, and it's the same guy. "Jim" is "Harris". "Harris" is "Jim." He just wanted to see me again. jesus lol. Seattle, you're crazy.
I am debating if I shoudl take a fatty nap before I attemp this essay. It's 3:30 a.m. and I hate my life.
But then again, it's just pizza, right?
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
And so it begins...
Oh my god. I battled Seattle traffic today (and that is no easy feat) in the pouring rain to get to fucking Kent for the fucking Domino's Pizza new employee training session. To get to the I-5 S, it took me 50 minutes from the Wayward Home to the goddamned entrance to the freeway. JESUS. I was late. Naturally. I have no time-management skills. It was basically me, Bon Iver, a couple of Lucky Strike cigarettes, sideways rain, and a whole lotta fucking cars for two hours. fuck.
I burst into the room and lo and behold, I witnessed the saddest and ugliest bunch of people to ever congregate in a room at once. I silently slinked my way to an empty chair and second-guessed why on earth I was working there. Or was even hired. Am I hideous as well? Do I not feel? Do flowers instantly whither away when my smell is amongst them? Do mirrors shatter when I attempt to look into them? My god. lol.
I'm kidding. The job seems actually cool (besides the ugly people and apparently I am grouped with them as well!) - I am almost always in my car, I listen to my own music, I can smoke (but only in my car, against company policy to be exposed smoking and wearing a Dominos uniform), I am always from the supervisor for large increments... I mean, honestly, what's so hard about delivering pizzas?
There is one thing I am sad about though/concerned with. I look like a complete dork in the Domino's shirt and hat. : ( oh woe is me... carolyn looks like a dweeb..
I think I'm just going to start paying off my debt in pizza. what a life.
I burst into the room and lo and behold, I witnessed the saddest and ugliest bunch of people to ever congregate in a room at once. I silently slinked my way to an empty chair and second-guessed why on earth I was working there. Or was even hired. Am I hideous as well? Do I not feel? Do flowers instantly whither away when my smell is amongst them? Do mirrors shatter when I attempt to look into them? My god. lol.
I'm kidding. The job seems actually cool (besides the ugly people and apparently I am grouped with them as well!) - I am almost always in my car, I listen to my own music, I can smoke (but only in my car, against company policy to be exposed smoking and wearing a Dominos uniform), I am always from the supervisor for large increments... I mean, honestly, what's so hard about delivering pizzas?
There is one thing I am sad about though/concerned with. I look like a complete dork in the Domino's shirt and hat. : ( oh woe is me... carolyn looks like a dweeb..
I think I'm just going to start paying off my debt in pizza. what a life.
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