Okay, so! Zach and I signed a lease on a house together. Yay! It's funny because I'd obsessed about us moving in together for nearly our whole relationship, and in the end we never even had The Talk. Just, one day he was all "So at our house, can I have a man cave?" and from then on out, it was "our house". My mom and I joked that this is how it will be when we get married. Just one day he'll be all "We're here! At the courthouse. What? Didn't I mention we were getting married today? Oh yeah, and you're pregnant." Which is fine, that he doesn't like to talk about things. It's just funny. I admit that those relationship conversations can be really scary, so if he prefers to just decide we live together, I'm fine with it.

I've got the electric set to transfer from here to the new place on the 1st. Zach's got the gas guy and the Comcast guy coming on the 27th of this month. We've already got a key, so I want to put up curtains before we move. I am so antsy to get the hell out of here, which is funny since I like where I live. Mainly I'm anxious to get Zach out of his place because it fucking sucks and I hate it to death.

My sister also moves on the first, over to Athens which is the farthest away she'll ever have lived. I am excited for her, but I'm also sad. I've known she's a grown up for a while now, but having her more than a few miles away will be hard. After this, she'll probably move even farther away and then who knows how often we'll be able to see each other. I am proud of her, but I also feel old as hell.

After we move, I'll put some pictures up in this mug so you can see how cute it is.

I hadn't really been planning on getting another tattoo. Sometimes the 3 I already had seemed like a lot, especially when I remember that they're forever and that some day I will probably need to get a real job. But the ones my sister has gotten are all very cute and a little bit jealousy-inspiring, so I'd been keeping a list of potential artwork I'd like if the time seemed right. A while ago, the family cat died after being sick for some time. Tiger Lily had been around since the November my sister was 3, so we had her for a good 16 years. Her death was pretty hard on all of the family members, because she had been a fixture for so long. When I lived at home, she and I were very close. She'd sleep in my underwear drawer and keep my socks warm for me. Now that I am older I'm more of a dog person (cats seem so high maintenance), but Tiger Lily was and will always be my favorite and most beloved cat. Anyway, Georgia and I had been planning on getting little tiger lilies behind our ears but I didn't have the money and wasn't sure I wanted to take the plunge. Finally she brought it up again, and since I've been working so much I had a good bit of cash stashed away.

Yesterday we drove over to Liberty with the intention of getting matching ink. The apprentice (I assume, he definitely wasn't an artist) manning the front desk was a dick though, and we almost walked out. First of all, you walk up to the counter and the guy just says, "Yeah?". And then you have to say "I want a tattoo", even though, OBVIOUSLY you do, because they don't do anything there but make fucking tattoos. Then, when we told him what we wanted, he acted like it was impossible. He said we couldn't get something that small and intricate, even though he had a pretty nice behind-the-ear tattoo himself. The drawing he brought out didn't look anything like a tiger lily, even though we brought printed out color pictures of what they look like for real and what they look like as a tattoo. I asked him if that was the exact design he wanted to inject with needles into my body permanently, and when he said yes, I told him to forget it. "I can't draw for shit, and I could come up with a better Tiger Lily than that", I told him. I'm sure at this point he thought we were prissy bitches, but if I'm paying someone my hard-earned money to put something on me that I have to live with forever, it's going to be what I want.

Finally I told him he could make it bigger and we'd work it out. When he came back with a bigger, better drawing we were both thrilled. But when he put the transfer on my neck and I saw how big it was, I knew I couldn't do that. My boss already freaks out that I have a nose ring, I can't go around with a tattoo taking up half my neck. And again, some day I'll probably have a real job in an office at a desk (maybe) and that tattoo wouldn't exactly scream "Hire me!". I told him I'd rather get it on my arm, because that way I could have it as big and detailed as I needed, but still wear long sleeved shirts and look presentable.



It hurt a lot more than I remembered it did, because it's been a good 3 years since I got anything done.

And every time I looked at it, I got creeped out by all the blood, which again, is something that totally escaped my memory. I guess it's like what people say about childbirth--the pain is totally worth it when you're done, and the memory of that pain seems diminished. Not that tattooing hurts at all like childbirth, but I realized yesterday I will never ever ever be one of those "No drugs for me, please" people. I respect 'em to death, but I just can't do it.



So yes, in the end it was all worth it. Because this thang looks super awesome! And plus my sister and I match now. Mine (and the spots are actually spots, not blood as I once thought..hah!):



Hers:


And just for the hell of it, here's me looking like it doesn't hurt. BUT IT TOTALLY DOES!!


And sorry for the pics being big. I'm not that hip on photo editing.

Originally we'd been quoted at $150 each. It was steep but we figured it would last forever, so we shouldn't skimp. When all was said and done, the artist told us our total was only $220. And they did that last time too; quoted me a higher price, and then when they were done and realized I was actually NOT a prissy bitch, lowered the price. I'm glad for it, I just wish there was a way to skip all the theatrics and get the real scoop up front. It's almost like you have to walk in there and announce "This is not my first tattoo. Treat me accordingly." But they do good work, so I guess it's all part of the schtick.

We tipped the guy $60 total, and then he was EVEN nicer. I guess if I'm getting another, I need to do it pretty soon so that the guy remembers me.

This is what good friends Ren and Zach are. Seriously, Ren follows him EVERYWHERE.


And this is how cute we are. And this was not taken in the bathroom, don't worry. I'm normally not into the kissyface photos, but there's no tongue so it's cool.

Woo, Christmas Time! It's pretty exciting, ain't it? Here's the coolest thing I got today. It didn't come with the pouring shield and the bread hook is spiral, but it's still awesome as hell.

This is going to be a picture-heavy post because my awesome sister gave me a digital camera and I've been taking mad pictures, yo. Also, no I didn't just say that. I don't even know the hip lingo anymore.

So, Zach and I went to San Antonio last weekend! It was probably the best trip we've taken together, except for the ridiculous amount of time I spent in the airport. On the way to TX, I was 19th on the standby list. When the plane was juuuust about to leave, I miraculously got on. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, all I know is that sometimes a gate agent's bitchiness can work in your favor. Like when someone else is being an idiot, so she makes them stand in another line and you get to get on the plane. The way back to ATL, I wasn't so lucky. First TSA wouldn't let me through because I didn't have a boarding pass. The gate agent told me I was late, even though I came in WITH THE CREW. When I finally got a boarding pass, I got stopped at TSA and had to get searched. When I got to the gate, I didn't make it for the 8:07 flight. I also didn't make the 9:40, the 11:37, the 12:15, the 1:49, the 3:20, OR the 4:45. I finally got onto the 6:30--a plane that would have had 40 empty seats except for the fact that there were THAT MANY of us on standby. I ended up making like 5 friends just because we spent all damn day together.

Anyway, we did some fun stuff, so enjoy the pictures.


Yes, you can see my bra through my shirt. I'm sorry. I swear it's the flash (of the CAMERA, god) and that it didn't look like that for reals.

We went on a boat ride around the Riverwalk. Which sounds really cool except it's only 3 ft. deep. Here's our feet in the boat!


And here's some tall-ass hotel!
Here are some people I don't know on a bridge!
Here is Santa and a little girl who looks very uncomfortable!
Anway, after the boat ride we wandered around the city. We visited the Alamo and went into the 700 ft.-tall Tower of the Americas.

We got to see someone getting arrested! Actually this was only one of many--cops don't fuck around in the SA, ese!


Classy t-shirts!

Classy glasses!

Big ass tree!

Hurty plants!

ALAMO, baby!

Bridge on the Riverwalk

Jesus in a vending machine

Zach with a Martini

Zach in front of some statue you could probably read about on Wikpedia

Random bride

And when all was said and done, we had to come back home. Here's Zach in the 'vator on the way to the airport shuttle.


Sooo, yeah! That was probably pretty boring for you, but I feel like a real blogger right now, so let me have my moment.

Next time, look forward to a post about Pho!

You guys! I just realized that I haven't pooped ALL DAY. My two blogspot pals, you know how bad that is! Normally I'm a 6-a-dayer. Maybe I should have some coffee.

Also, the girl who I used to not like, and then did like, is now not even my co-worker anymore. I was off on Thursday, but apparently she got all pissed and stormed out of the resto without doing her out-work and now she has no job. I feel bad for her, but I also feel like...dude, it's the Roadhouse. Maurice managed to stay employed there for like TWO YEARS. He used to not even show up, and he got to keep his job. Of course, he was banging one of the bosses, but still! Now I'm all in a tizzy, though, because what if I'm next on the chopping block? I work my ass off and I try to maintain a good attitude, but sometimes the customers can reeeally make me crazy. And I am definitely someone who needs to talk it out before I can get over something, so venting about a bad customer is like a therapeutic process for me. If I can bitch about a table to my co-workers, the less likely I am to take my frustration out on the customer. Anyway, my one boss, Ed, always seems to be around when I'm saying something negative. I used to think it was coincidence but now I think he's got my brainwaves tapped or something. He did tell me one time that he thinks I'd make a good manager, though, so maybe he doesn't notice my bad habits as much as I think. Or maybe he's toying with me. Regardless, I do like my job and would like to hang onto it, so I mind my P's and Q's and dot my i's and cross my T's, and do all the other appropriate things to my letters.

I was supposed to go to this kickball party tonight, but I didn't. I don't really do sports, and I didn't feel like being "on." I know, it's gay, but sometimes I don't feel like being social. Especially when it's 27 degrees outside, but it's 70 inside. Plus inside is where I keep my stash. And my ice cream.

One of these days I'll have to document the Thanksgiving drama, and all the rest of the goings-on. But for now, House is on and I feel a brown baby knocking at my back door. I know, I'm gross.

Inspired by another blog (I read so many of the damn things I don't even remember which one), I thought I'd post 10 good things that happened in the past week. If I can think of that many. And if I can even remember what happened this week!

1) I got 7 new library books. I don't know why I didn't figure out this whole library thing sooner. I go through books pretty quickly when I feel like reading, and this way they only take up space in my apartment for a few weeks. I don't really have a library game plan, I just go in and scoop up books whose jacket blurbs sound interesting. Or, let's face it, whose covers are cute. Maybe you can't judge a book by its cover, but at least it will look cute sitting on my end table.

2) Hanging out with the Ash-master and Craiggers. I love those kids!

3) Also, seeing Anne and the gang at the kids' Halloween party. It wasn't the super-funnest thing in town, but Anne shared some vicodin cough syrup with me and that part was fun. Heh.

4) Today is my one year anniversary of working at the Roadhouse. I feel a mixture of emotions, but they're mostly good. I took this job as a placeholder while I was unemployed, but it ended up lasting longer than my last few jobs (combined, even!). It's nice to know I can be a competent, valued employee SOMEWHERE. Also, my boss told me that I get a week's paid vacation. And while $2.13/hour doesn't make for a very big paycheck, it's still nice to have that option.

5) I made beaucoup dollars at work this past week because Sam was out of town. I wish he would be gone all the time, because I'd make better money AND because 48-year-old toothless waiters who hit on my sister creep me out. But I'll take what I can get.

6) Because of #5, my rent and insurance are paid on time and I still have quite a bit of money left over. "Quite a bit" in Alisonian standards and not by anyone else's, but still.

7) Zach and I ate at a great Indian place we'd never tried before and it's right up the street! We stuffed ourselves silly and still had to bring some of the food home. We came back to my place and had some great, uh, alone time.

8) My Halloween costume looked good, or at least it must have, because Zach couldn't keep his hands off of me. I guess the black lacy thong/fishnet stockings/super short dress combo was a good idea.

9) The weather is just cool enough that I can turn on the heater and snuggle up on the couch with Ren, but it's not so cold that I have to worry about the pipes freezing in the garage.

10) I took my sister out for some ethnic cuisine and she actually ate it! We went to Pho Dai Loi (obviously on Buford Hwy) and GA slurped up the pho like a pro. I was slightly embarrassed though, because when I went up to pay our bill, the cashier asked me, "Weren't you here last night?". And yes, I was. But for $6 you can't beat a huuuge bowl of steaming noodle soup, so I'm not ashamed.

Well, I'm friends with that girl now. She is sweet and funny and I am learning to overlook the annoyance I feel when she does things that are, well, annoying. I see a lot of myself in her, or vice versa, I guess, because she's older. We have the same insecurities and quirks and sense of humor and those are always nice things to have in common. Yay, overcoming mild dislike of people!

It was my birthday a little bit ago, and it had cool parts but the overwhelming feeling was one of SUCK and not in the penis way. I had a party that about 25 people came to, over the course of the night. I like my friends and I like my apartment but having my friends IN my apartment is very difficult. I'm always afraid it's messy, or it's ugly, or that someone will break something. And I don't even have nice stuff, it's just that it's MY stuff and I'm attached to it for whatever weird (read: insane) reason. A glass ended up getting broken, and it was MY glass but I wasn't around when it happened. I am pretty sad because now I only have 3 of those glasses, and I got them on clearance at Tuesday Morning so I can't exactly run out and buy more. But then again, it was just a glass and it was like $2, and now I have an excuse to buy a new glass, so...yay I guess?

Also, my car broke down, ON MY ACTUAL BIRTHDAY and not only does that suck but I got in trouble at work for mentioning to one of my tables that it was my birthday and my car broke down. And then they didn't tip me. And then I hung myself with a cheap curtain rod, because my life is THAT sad. But everyone else was nice, and my parents tipped me $100, and my co-workers had a cake and they sang to me. But it's hard to remember the party and the cake and the singing and the money, because my car is still broken and that's pretty much all I can think about right now.

Now it's time to read other people's blogs because I like them way more than my own, and they require much less typing and thought transcribing. See ya later, blog.

Love,
Me