adiva_calandia: (Drink of CHAMPIONS)
 Ended my 13 day work week with an eight-hour day that started with a mile-long walk over a very steep hill at 7:30, then had me hauling 40-pound containers and maneuvering a 400-pound trailer singlehandedly, then sold over a hundred pies etc, hauled 40-pound containers and the 400-pound trailer again, drove through awful traffic because of the summer solstice celebrations, hauled the trailer again, hauled sodas, walked uphill to the bus stop, got home, made the mistake of sitting down after taking a much-needed shower.

I am going to sit and be very quiet for a bit, go put in an appearance at my sister's birthday party, and then come home and do as little as possible until Monday morning.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Today I got to run the grill on one of my trucks by myself, multiple times, making tacos and cheesesteaks and sandwiches, and I felt awesome.

I keep thinking about bragging material for this upcoming party in LA, and I'm like Well, I can't say that I'm writing a fic that has cause an enormous splash in a tiny fandom and is deeply emotionally satisfying. I still haven't resubmitted my short story anywhere, which I keep meaning to do just so I can say "Well, I just submitted a short story and I'm waiting to hear back" to people.

But I can say I have an interview with a cool theatre company on May 5, and when I get to LA I can say I drove down here all by myself. And for me, the fact that I was turning out good cheesesteaks by the end of the day -- the fact that my boss felt confident enough in my ability to run things that he left the truck for extended periods of time -- that's brag-worthy. I can cook food, guys! I can cook food I don't even eat!

I mean, really what I'm saying is "I can learn things!", I guess, but there's something so satisfying about that. (Same way "I served a customer using ASL on Friday" is not exactly a bragging thing for a class reunion, but it was one of the best things that happened to me yesterday on a day that was already pretty great.)
adiva_calandia: (James Dean. Nngh.)
My sister, tonight:

"Man, I can't wait to read your memoirs about working on every food truck in Seattle and going to every poet party."
adiva_calandia: (Default)
I appear to have acquired a second regular gig! One of the other trucks that rents space at our commissary is setting up shop on Boeing campus (as does the pie truck), and none of their current employees could pass Boeing's background check for whatever reason. But I have already passed Boeing's background check! So I'll be working as a cashier and jack-of-all-trades there on Wednesdays for at least a little while.

What's most exciting about that, besides upping my regular number of work shift to four from three, is that Ed expects his employees to be able to do everything on the truck, including cook. I told him I'd never worked in a kitchen before and he said "So you'll learn something!" Even if it's pretty basic line cook stuff like "Flip over this bacon" or "Drop those fries in the fryer," I will actually be learning to cook in what is essentially a very small commercial kitchen. (The truck is HUGE, and it has everything a full-size kitchen has, including oven, grill, griddle, fryer, three-part-sink, etc.)

I could be a real food industry person yet!

Also, this is the second time in the last couple weeks someone has told me I look like a vegetarian, or at least implied they could tell just by looking at/talking to me. What does that even mean??? Is it the blue hair? The short cut? The body type? Because I have known loads of people with colored hair, or short hair, or short colored hair, or skinny body types, or some combination of the above, who were sure as fuck not vegetarian.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
I have a bevy of things!

First, most importantly and most seriously, [personal profile] conuly and her family are facing foreclosure, and anything you can pitch in would be a help.




Less important stuff )
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Due to some things I wanna get checked out to make sure this too too solid flesh is functioning correctly, I finally did what I should have done a year ago and got myself into the actual Group Health system so I can schedule a physical and get a referral.

Thoughts:

Adulthood is weird, but GHC is thus far pretty solid. )

In other news, I sold pies at my old place of employment today. )

AND I got paid, so today was just, like, adulthood all over the place. Yay? Sure, yay. It's Friday night now and I am going to deposit my checks, shop for video games, kick back and write.
adiva_calandia: (Merry Fucking Christmas)
When I take off my wig, I look like the "I like turtles" kid.

Here is a few much better-quality pictures of me taken at the end of my shift!

Big images )

Exchanges with customers included:

Soundtrack: [playing "A Little Priest"]
Lady: ... *starts laughing in horror* Oh, I get it now.
Her friend: What?
Lady: *suspicious* What's really in that pie?
Me: Just chicken! :D

Dude: There's no human meat in this, is there?
Me: Nooo! Who do you take me for? :D
Dude: Right, I don't know why I'd think that.

I think maybe a couple other people recognized me but didn't comment. Definitely a success all around.

Also, did you know that in the original Broadway soundtrack of Sweeney Todd there's a whole section in the contest between Pirelli and Sweeney about tooth-pulling? I DID NOT. It does not exist in any later version I've seen, possibly because IT'S HORRIFYING and also super unnecessary.
adiva_calandia: Me, drinking wine in a coffeeshop, wearing a hipster scarf, wearing a fuzzy hat with wolf/cat ears. (Left Coast girl)
Guess who made arrangements to work on the food truck on October 31, just bought a skirt, lacy top, and red-striped tights, and is only a wig and a pair of combat boots away from a complete Mrs. Lovett costume for the occasion!

If you guess me, you get a pie.

(I finally own a corset and I love it so muuuuuuch.)
adiva_calandia: (Default)
I'm having a pretty shitty day, BUT (from email):

two teenage girls in a row just made my day so much better: the Supernatural fan with the Dean pendant [that I met a few weeks ago at this market and scored points with by recognizing the pendant] came back, and a girl recognized Shakespeare on my "Shakespeare gotta get paid, son" shirt and was like "Shakespeare's AWESOOOME, HIGH FIVE!" So I asked her what her favorite play is and she said "Umm, Taming of the Shrew! It's so funny!" "Yeah, that was the first show I ever directed!" "!!!"


So thank you, Queen Anne, teenaged girls, for being awesome.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Some days I rhapsodize about how great working on the pie truck is; some days I start work at 1:30, end at 10:30, and don't get to bed until midnight.

Guess what today was!
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Today's blogging/social media:

A tangent on the VMAs, or, a healthy dose of feminist rage for a Monday morning. A friend on Facebook -- a guy I've always liked -- called Ms. Cyrus a "cheap stripper" last night and I regretted not calling him out immediately, so I made it a full blog post.

Alto de Perdon: pictures and thoughts from last year on the Camino.

And:



God, I'm so tired. I feel like I got about four hours of sleep last night.
adiva_calandia: (Drink of CHAMPIONS)
A twofer of blogging:

Saturday: Meet me by the water's edge, or, "I am so serene and happy with life right now."

Today: A brief break from banging my head against walls, or, "I HATE EVERYTHING I HATE EVERYTHING I HATE EVERYTHING GODDAMMIT."

At least I got a free vanilla latte because the baristas messed up someone else's order. And I have Indian food and yet more beer waiting for me at home when I eventually figure all this stupid shit out.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
On Tuesday I was piemongering at Microsoft, and the falafel truck next to me offered me a falafel in exchange for some pie. (One of the most fun things about working a food truck is free food.)

When they brought me the falafel they'd written "pie lady! :)" on the box and I was like "I AM A PIE LADY YES GOOD."

On Saturday evening I'm selling pies at a brewery and have a reasonable expectation of free beer while I sell pie.

I really, really like this job, guys.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
... haha guess who gets to leave the house at 6AM tomorrow to earn money?

(I agreed to be a cashier for another food truck for a farmer's market tomorrow, but the market is up in Edmonds, so for the truck to get up there in time it has to leave at 7:15, and for me to get to the commissary by bus by 7AM I have to leave at 6. WHEE.)
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Copied from Facebook:

So my last day of work coincides with the monthly office birthday treats -- for May, cupcakes with big plastic rings with cartoon characters on them. Naturally, given my choice, I grab Captain America and slip him on my finger. Where the ring promptly gets stuck, because small though my hands may be, they are bigger than those of the intended 8-year-old wearers of these rings. I freak out a little. I text my roommate to encourage her to point and laugh -- I mean, empathize. (She does.) Finally, like Red Skull, I escape Cap's clutches.

Moral of the story: even the star-spangled man with a plan can be defeated with the help of proper hand-washing technique.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Last day at work!

My feelings are many and mixed but primarily boil down to "THANK GOD I DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE THE APARTMENT AT 6:45 ON A REGULAR BASIS ANYMORE."
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Living the 20-something making-nothing doing-everything lifestyle: waking up at 6AM to earn overtime at my data entry job, leaving said job (where I was AWESOME today and I got cake) early, taking the bus home, putting on a plaid shirt, and going to go sell pies for the evening.

Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about selling pies, but I am basically going all day and I'm already ohgodsotired.
adiva_calandia: (Are you -- Nobody -- Too?)
One of my coworkers is a Russian immigrant by the name of Maria. She has a very strange sense of humor that mostly involves making fun of Jacob, the ex-Mormon missionary who also works with us, or doing startlingly good animal impressions. (She has also spouted some really terrible homophobic/transphobic shit; coming to terms with the fact that someone can hold those kinds of views and still be pleasant and funny and make an awesome pasta salad is a continuing journey for me. But that's not what this story is about!)

Yesterday, as is my wont when I'm around people named Maria, I started humming The Sound of Music (it's either that or West Side Story). Jacob picked it up and sang "How do you solve a problem like Maria?"

And was interrupted by Maria's thickly Russian-accented deadpan: "You don't solve."
adiva_calandia: (Merry Fucking Christmas)
 GodDAMMIT VIDEOS WHY WON'T YOU IMPORT

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