Money, money, money

It's crazy how much the whole idea of Christmas has gotten out of hand. Tyler works for American General Financial Services and I hear horror stories of how many loans they do for people to buy Christmas gifts. Around Christmas time they have their "Customer Appreciation Days" and rewrite everyone's loan to give them the month of November and December off (in other words, they don't have to pay on their loans for 2 months). They do this because they know that when it comes down to a battle between spending money on buying gifts and paying bills, the gift buying will always win.
I, myself, am guilty of getting caught up in the "let's see how much money we can spend on eachother" hubbub of Christmas. It's ridiculous. I have spent $700 dollars on xbox 360's for Tyler for Christmas, I've boughten $400 recliners for him as a graduation present, I've spent $450 for him to go to the Chiefs v. Denver Broncos game two years in a row...the list goes on and on.
I know I should realize the true meaning of Christmas, but it's hard to do when it seems like Christmas (at least in my family) has almost become a competition. I always want to get nice things for everyone because I know they're going ot get nice things for me.
This year I have had to swallow a lot of pride. As you all know, I lost my job a few months back and I've struggled to find anything that can pay my bills, let alone buy Christmas gifts. I haven't been able to buy the Chiefs tickets this year or spend hundreds of dollars on the people I love. It kills me, but I need to realize that it's not all about that.
My parents moved two hours away from me about six months ago. I konw that's not far, but with my busy schedule, I don't get to see them much. My sister lives in California and my grandparents live in Holton (again, that's not far away, but I've been to busy to go see them too).
I really need to realize that just being able to spend time with all of them at Christmas this year is more than any present could ever offer us. I really need to get my priorities in order, and I think the rest of the world could do the same too.

Ella had a daily routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday she did the same thing. She got up around 9:30, got ready, and went to her German class at 11. When the class got out an hour later, she went straight to McDonalds to meet up with her two good friends. She always got there a little early, so she would order and study for her next class until the girls got there.
The manager knew her by name and always knew what she was going to have for lunch; a number 6 with ketchup and mayo only with a dr. pepper to drink. She would get her debit card out before she even walked up to the counter, and it would be ready for her to swipe the card by the time she got up there.
On this day, Ella walked up with her card and smiled to the manager. They carried on a conversation as she swiped her card and waited to enter her pin number. After she entered her pin, she stared at the screen and waited for it to say "Aproved, Thank You," like it always did. But the screen never showed up. Instead, it read "Declined, Code 341."
Ella was shocked. She didn't know what to do. Yea, money had been tight lately, but she had just checked her account balance yesterday and it said she had $300 in her checking account.
She stared at the manager with a puzzled look on her face and then pulled out her cell phone. She called the bank and asked them to explain why her debit card had gotten declined. They proceeded to tell her that her account was overdrawn by $134 and they wouldn't allow her to make anymore transactions until her account was no longer in the negative.
Her rent check had just now gone through and she didn't know it. She had never kept a very good record of her purchases, but this had never happened to her before. She was mortified. She quickly made up an excuse to tell her friend, the manager, and started to walk away. The manager stopped her and handed her the sack of food.
"Just take it," the manager said. "You have to eat."
Ella grabbed the food and thanked the manager. She ate her lunch with her friends and never mentioned the situation. On her way back to school, she called her mom and begged for some money to get her by until she got paid the next Friday. She had never had to ask for money before and she never wanted to either.
Her mother generously offered to send as much as she needed, and explained to Ella that everyone goes through hard times and it's ok to ask for help.
Needless to say, Ella would definitely start keeping better track of her finances. She never wanted to be embarrassed like that again.

They haven't seen the last of me!

At the end of September, I got fired from Red Lobster. I was fired because there were tickets that had been rang in under my number and then discounted when they shouldn't have been. This had happened to two other bartenders as well and, as a result, we all got fired. I tried to explain how it wasn't me and that anyone could have accidentally or intentionally rang things in under my number, but they weren't having it.
At first I had decided to count my losses and move on. Sure, I had worked at the place for four and a half years and done absolutely everything for them, but screw it. If they didn't want to believe me, then I didn't need them. But after a while I started getting bitter. I did a little investigating of my own, since the company obviously wasn't going to do any. I found the root of the problem. Two guys had been discounting tickets by adding the crew meal discount and pocketing half the money. They did it under all of our numbers and didn't even realize it.
I finally got one of them to write a statement saying it was him and not me and I called the district manager of the company. I told him my story and he basically said he didn't care. He told me if I didn't agree with the outcome I could do a peer review and that was my only option.
A peer review is when you go before a panel of employees (two co-workers and one manager) and tell them your story. The panel decides if the company had cause to fire the employee or not, and if they didn't, the employee gets there job back.
When I started going through the peer review process, they just gave me the run around. I called one person who told me I needed to call another person, who told me I needed to call another person, who told me I needed to call the original person I talked to. I think they were doing it in an attempt to get me to give up, but they obviously don't realize how stubborn I am. I wasn't going to just give up, and I'm glad I didn't.
Now I'm at the point of having my peer review. It will take place within the next 14 days and I will have an answer within 30 days of that. Yes, it's been a really long process, but I don't care. It's worth it.
The panel consists of two girls that I have worked with for years and a manager who I get along with really well. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I have a really good feeling about this.
If I do get my job back, which I think I will, I plan to go in and show them what they were missing out on. Then when our district manager comes back to our store, I plan to look him straight in the eye and give him the "fuck you buddy, you can't get rid of me" look!

Coming Home

She stared impatiently at the clock. It was only 9:47 a.m. She had only been there for 18 hours and she already wanted to leave.
Shell was back in Kansas again. It was as horrible as she had remembered. The weather was cold, the ocean was miles away and to top it off, she had to spend the next three days with her family.
It was Thanksgiving day and her mother had insisted that she come "home" to see everyone. But this wasn't home anymore. Home was Urvine, California and she liked it that way. No one knew what she was doing with her life, mainly because she didn't want anyone to know. She could call every now and then, tell everyone things were great, and they wouldn't know any different.
But now she was face to face with all of them. She would have to plaster on a fake smile and play the loving daughter-sister-cousin-niece-granddaughter role until she could shut herself in her room at night and finally be herself.
At 11 o'clock, the door flew open and in walked her younger sister, Meg. She was obviously the favorite of the who. She had stuck around after high school and went to the local college. She would graduate in a year with a mass media degree and, unlike Shell, she made frequent trips to visit both her parents and her grandparents.
She had been a big trouble-maker back in high school; back when Shell was the favorite one. But now Meg had turned her life around and it seemed as though the two had swap places. Meg was now the fun, bubbly, energetic daughter-sister-cousin-niece-granddaughter that everyone loved. Her plastered-on smile wasn't fake, and it drove Shell crazy.
Finally around 12:30 p.m. the rest of the family started showing up. They were in an unfamiliar place this year. Shell and Meg's parents had moved to Wichita and this was the first time they had all been down to see the place.
It was a beautiful home; four bedrooms, two fireplaces and a new pool table. All signs of a big promotion and new opportunities in a new town. But to Shell it was just a bigger Topeka. It would never compare to California and her new life she had started for herself. It's true, she was broke and struggling to pay the rent every month, but damnit she was doing it on her own and she would never ask for anyone's help.
Thanksgiving dinner was delicious, as always. Afterwards the men headed downstairs for some football and belly-rubbing while the women stayed upstairs with their cups of coffee. Shell answered the typical questions about where she was at now and what she had been up to for the last year. She felt as though she was being interviewed for a documentary on VH1.
Finally around four the family started packing up the kids to head back to Topeka. Shell had survived. As miserable as it was, she made it through. Now she just had to make it through the next two days and she would be on a plane back home. Her real home, that is. Then she would have a whole year to herself before having to deal with them all again.

officially old

Tyler officially became an old man on Saturday night. It was his 24th birthday, although I like to tease him by saying he was 23 going on 40.
We started our evening with a fancy dinner. Las Fuentes was his restaurant of choice. The assistant manager was our regular server, however we weren't able to be sat in her section that night. But she still stopped by to say hi and wished Tyler a happy birthday.
Not ten minutes later, a crowd of servers came over, clapping and singing. Our server was cupping a flame and from far away I thought it was a birthday dessert. As she got closer, I realized I was wrong! Instead, it was a flaming tequila shot.
Tyler hates tequila. Not only does it mess with his stomach (like I said, he's an old man), but it makes him mean! But tonight he had no choice. There were seven women standing over him and they weren't going anywhere until that shot glass was empty.
So against his own will, he threw a straw in the shot glass and sucked up the tequila. It only went downhill from there.
After Las Fuentes, we went to Buffalo Wild Wings to grab some beers and watch football. We saw some friends we haven't seen in a while, so we sat down with them.
After the beers started going down like water, I decided it was time to spice things up a bit, and I ordered us a round of shots;three jager bombs and a shot of plain jager for Tyler (gross!). That was a bad idea.
After the first shot (well technically it was the second), Tyler thought he needed to take more-a lot more. Every time I turned around Tyler was slamming a shot of jager.
By eleven o'clock, a couple more people had joined us and we all decided to move the party to Bullfrogs Live. Tyler seemed up for it, so I drove us there and we headed inside.
At that point, I wished I would have just taken him home. He was belligerent. I could tell he needed to get home so we said goodby and made our way to the car.
On the way out, I saw some friends from high school so I stopped to say hi. When I turned back around, Tyler was gone. He was no where to be found.
I walked to the car and he wasn't there. I walked back to the bar and he wasn't there either. I finally started roaming around screaming his name and found him sitting in front of Las Fuentes.
When we got home, I gave Tyler some space to relieve himself of all the jager shots he took that night. After he passed out in the bathroom, I helped him upstairs and into bed. He was asleep before he ever layed down.
After 20 minutes of listening to the loudest snoring I've ever heard, I finally decided to go sleep on the couch.
The next morning Tyler stumbled downstairs and gave me the sad "puppy dog" look.
"I don't know what I did, but I obviously did something and I'm sorry," he said.
He leaned down and rested his head on my stomach. I couldn't help but laugh. He thought we had gotten in a fight and that's why I was sleeping on the couch. If i wasn't such an honest person, I would have played along for a little while and made him feel bad. However, I don't think I could have kept a straight face long enough to do it.
So, as you can see, Tyler has officially become an old fart. He is just too old to party like he use to. It's sad to say, but he obviously can't hang with the big boys anymore. =)

deck the halls

Christmas is going to suck for me this year. Usually I love it. It's my favorite holiday. Especially because the forgotten holiday is only 3 days later (my birthday). But this year it's going to be so different.
I was without a job for a while and that really hurt the pocket book. I have been working at the Topeka Country Club for about the last month now, but the money just isn't that great. It probably could be better, but I only work 3 days a week, all for only a couple of hours at a time. I have thought about trying to find a second job, but there's nothing I could do that would fit into my crazy schedule. I would try to pick up more shifts at the country club, but no one wants to give them up! So basically what I'm trying to say is, I'm screwed!
I know Christmas is suppose to be about the birth of Christ and about spending time with loved ones, but let's face it, it's also about the gifts. I always love to go overboard on getting people things. I always get Tyler Chiefs tickets for his birthday on the 2nd of December, and then something pretty expensive and nice for Christmas. Like last year, I got him an Xbox 360. It took me lots of time and money to find one, but dammit, I was determined! I always buy gifts for every friend I have that is remotely close to me. I like to buy a lot of things for my parents as a way of thanking them for all that they do for me (and trust me, they do a lot for me!). I even try to buy a lot for my sister...and we're not even close! But this year I'm just not going to be able to do it and it kills me. I don't want to be the cheap ass that didn't get much for my friends and family. I know they will all understand that I'm a broke college student trying to pay all my own bills and for school, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I still want to be able to do those things for them.
So I guess this year I'm just going to have to try my best to swallow my pride. I guess there's always next year.

that's gotta suck

I have really been having a pity party for myself lately. It seems like nothing has been going my way. I'm swamped with school work and I'm falling really behind. I'm incredibly broke and I'm freaking out about how I'm going to afford Christmas presents this year. My job sucks and I'm trying to get my old job back with no luck so far. It just all has really sucked lately! But today I saw something that made me feel just a little better about myself.
I was on my way to Feature Writing, driving down 21st Street. I was almost to Gage when I noticed a sign. It was the sign for Seabrook Tavern, a bar that a friend of mine works at. It read "Trisha Irish, I have your bad check." HAHAHA! How horrible is that?! That poor girl. She probably went in to have a couple of drinks, maybe a hamburger and fries, and tried to write a check for the whole thing. She probably was going to put the money in her checking account the next day and hoped that they just wouldn't cash it until then. Then the next day came and she probably was busy and completely forgot to go to the bank. So now her name is on blast for the whole city of Topeka to see.
At first I wondered if they could even do that, legally. But I'm pretty sure they can. And even if they can't, Tyler told me that sign has been up there for a week, so by now everyone knows Trisha Irish is a broke ass trying to pay for things with bad checks. It really, really makes me stop to think about what I'm buying before I do! I wouldn't be surprised if I start making more trips to the bank to get a balance inquiry from now on! I'll be damned if my name is going to be put on blast for writing a bad check!

Enrolling for next semester has really made me look at where I'm at in life. I only have a year left of school and then I'm done...for good. I say that only because I never thought I would make it to college, let alone be almost done with it. It's kind of crazy for me to think I'm actually going to to be out there living life with the majority of normal people in this world. I'm not so sure I'm ready for that.
It makes me feel so old to think about it all. It really does seem like just yesterday I was in high school, not worrying about anything but where the party was at that night or who was dating who that week.
My parents really want me to move to Wichita when I get done with school. Tyler and I have talked about moving to Kansas City, also. I know he really wants to move out of state, but he's just going to have to wait for all of that. I have known nothing but Topeka, Kansas for almost 22 years now (I know, I live a sheltered life). The thought of moving outside my comfort zone is really taking some getting use to!
I think the scariest part for me is that I still don't know exactly what I want to do with myself. I think my fear is that I'm going to spend all this time and effort getting a degree in Public Relations, and then turn around and not do anything with it. I don't want to be a server or a bartender for the rest of my life, but I don't know what it is that I do want to do. I guess maybe after I do my internship I will have a better understanding of where I want to be. Until then, I guess I'll just sit around and wonder some more.

Deal!

Someone tell me how I can get on the show Deal or No Deal. I'm signing up! I don't see any reason not to. I mean, think about it. The show requires no skill at all. It only requires a person to know their numbers 1 through 25. As a result, they reward that person with thousands of dollars (possibly even a million). I honestly can't believe more people don't sign up to go on that show.
I wonder what criteria they use to pick the contestants. At first I thought maybe they picked people who desperately needed the money to pay for school or a kidney transplant or something, but no, that's not it. Tonight, for instance, the contestant was a cocky police officer, who liked himself way too much. They asked him what he was going to do with the money he made off the show, and he responded by saying he was just going to put it aside. That's really responsible of him and everything, but come on. Give me a break. The guy wins 100,000 (he could have won 261,000 but he got too greedy) and he's just going to put it all away?!? I highly doubt it. If I were to win that much money, I think I would start by getting a new car. It would have to be something big so I can intimidate all the asshole drivers out there. Then I think I would pay off my student loans, and blow the rest on useless stuff that I really don't need.
So tomorrow, I think I'm going to get on the Internet and do some looking around. Don't be surprised if you see me on TV within the next month or so.

espanol? what?

I can't, for the life of me, figure out why the hell I decided to take Spanish in college. I'm horrible at it. I should have stuck with French. Even though I would get absolutely no use out of it, what so ever, I still would have had the 2 years of French I slept through in high school to back me up a little bit. I just can't understand anything I learn in my Spanish class. I really like my teacher and I think she's a good teacher, but this Spanish stuff just doesn't sink in.
In a week I'm going to have to get up, in front of the whole class, and give a presentation...a memorized presentation on a cultural experience I have had. I'm screwed. I might as well just drop the class now and eat the massive amounts of money I spent to take the class.
I have spent the last 2 hours trying to write a paper that we are turning in on Thursday. So far, I have 5 sentences. 5 SENTENCES! That's ridiculous! I mean, who does that?
The worst part is that I think I'm the only one that doesn't get it. Everyone else seems to know what's going on at all times. When I'm in class, I do fine. I usually know the answer to whatever question she decides to ask, and if I don't, I usually can make something up that makes a little bit of sense. But when I come home and actually try to do something with it, I'm shit out of luck. It's like everything I could have possibly learned went out the window.
So I guess I should get back to writing this paper. If I keep going strong without stopping, I might have it finished by the end of the semester!

i don't think so

So lately my dad has been on this kick where he thinks he needs to get a motorcycle. First of all, he's too damn old for a motorcycle. He's past the age of looking "cool." Second of all, what the hell does he need a motorcycle for? I know I sound really old by saying this, but they're so dangerous. It doesn't matter if the driver of the motorcycle is being safe, there's too many other idiots out there that could really injure them.
I think my fear of motorcycles started when I was about 12. I had been out to eat with my parents and we were on our way home. My sister and her friend had stayed home to study while we went out. We lived off of 29th and Wanamaker, and on our way back we noticed a really bad accident. Cops were everywhere. We got home and my sister told us that a guy on a motorcycle had gotten hit by a car. She said they heard the whole thing happen.
We decided to be nosey and walked down the road to see if we could find out more about it. As we got closer, my mom grabbed me and spun me around so I wouldn't see up ahead. I broke away from her grip because I wanted to see what she was seeing, and that's when I saw the most horrible thing I had ever seen. They were zipping up the body bag of the guy that had gotten killed on the motorcycle. He had died on impact and his motorcycle was found down the street. His shoe was still lying in the street and there was glass everywhere. It was horrible. Come to find out, the guy was on his way home from his wedding rehearsal. He was to get married the next day. He had one child and another one on the way. Those kids were now fatherless...all because some lady couldn't wait 5 more seconds for the motorcycle to go by, and made a left hand turn in time for the guy on the motorcycle to t-bone the car.
A few months ago I had another run-in with a motorcycle accident. My friend had been out with an old buddy of hers from high school and they were driving around on his motorcycle. A car backed out of their driveway and they ran right into it. Her friend was killed and she was sent to the hospital with a broken pelvis. She just got out of a wheelchair a week ago and she's now has to use a walker. She's only 26, and her best friend is now dead. All because some jackass wasn't watching what they were doing.
So I think my reason for not wanting my dad, whom I love very much, to get a motorcycle is justified. Maybe I'm being overprotective, but I'd rather be too cautious and have him around then be too laid back and loose him to another dickhead driver.

Normally I don't like to write serious blogs. I would much rather talk about the stupid people I encounter or the stupid ideas that pop into my head on occasion, but tonight I've decided that you should all read about this personal problem I'm having.
My friends have always been super important to me. I will always drop what I'm doing to go help a friend out. I go places that I don't want to go just to satisfy a friend's request, I am a good listener and I try my best to give good advice. I act as a taxi cab for friends with busted vehicles, a shoulder to cry on when the girls are having boy trouble, a piggy bank when someone is a couple bucks short of whatever it is that they have to have that day, a mother to my intoxicated friends who feel the need to start a fight with the first person who looks at them for longer than 2 seconds, and a hotel for people to frequently party at without having to worry about cleaning up afterwards (thanks guys). I would consider myself a good friend...or at least i try to be. But lately I have felt like the feeling isn't mutual. I recently got fired from my job (the one I've worked at for over four years!) and I've had some trouble finding another one. I worked at Brick Oven for a couple of weeks before I realized that place was hell and quit. I have had a couple of job offers that I haven't been interested in (mainly the offer to wear skimpy clothes and offer drinks to the drunk gamblers at the casino, hoping they'll toss me a dollar every now and then)and I finally settled for a job working at the Topeka Country Club with the local snobs. Needless to say, money is kind of tight right now. So I guess I figured my firends would be there for me through all of this, and would maybe come over and hang out every now and then instead of going to the bar every night like we normally do. I thought maybe they'd call once in a while just to see how I'm doing and how the job hunt is going, but I've gotten nothing. I see a couple of friends on Tuesday's and Thursday's for lunch, and that's about it. I look at pictures on myspace and facebook of all my friends at the bar getting waisted, and I don't seem to be a second thought. So I guess this is my "feel sorry for me" blog entry for the semester. I guess you just start to see who your true friends are when you actually need them to be there for you.
But enough of my sob story. On to finding more stupid people to write about in my next blog entry =)