Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Boycott Quinn`s: Reason #1

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NOTE: This is just ONE True Story of MANY True Stories - but this made me finally to be silent No More - Now just wait - I will tell the rest soon - until then - here is what happened to my friend, just yesterday........ 

St. Patty`s Day - place is packed - it is an Irish Pub after all in the heart of Belmont Shore off of 2nd st - you are a bartender - you are working hard - you are ringing up tons of ticket orders with your name on it because you are the one serving them and it goes on your tax record to claim the taxes of the percent of bill for the assumed tip - you are putting up with a lot of crap and hard work - one bartender quit - probably for a great reason - you kind of wish you were her - but can`t think of that now - now you have to work harder because now you are one bartender short and you have thirsty customers- but that nice bit of tip cash at the end of your long shift is going to make it all better.
 Finally the end of the night comes - time to total out your draw - time to calculate your Credit Card Tips - but wait, the owner of the bar decides to take your draw and calculate himself. He tells you that your tips will be waiting for you in the Morning. You are confused, this is NOT protocol, Your Name is on those tickets, You are responsible for them -it is You who has to claim that total on your Tax records each Year - besides, you were looking forward to the rush of excitement from counting your tips to validate all your hard work from that night. However, you go alone with what the owners says, after all what other options do you have. You go home and come claim what you earned the Next Day.
 The next day, you go into your Work. The place you have worked at for many years, you have even worked there longer then the owners, your bosses now. Your Boss hands you an envelope that he says has your tips from that very busy long St. Patty`s Day, the Day that all the Bars are packed and All the servers and Bartenders look forward to because of the High Volume of People mean High Volume Tips. You excitedly Rip open that envelope - you look inside and grab the $14- inside!!!! Wait, Whaaaaat........$14-.......Fourteen dollars.......$14-???????? No Wait, there must be some sort of mistake. You ask your boss what happened, where is my Money, where is the Money I earned....where is the Money that I will be taxed on at the End of the Year, the Money I was looking forward to and earned honestly....that I worked Hard for??????? Where???? Where??? Where is it????
 You boss explains that he split your tips with the cook, his sister who helped out serving jello shots, the bar patron that does a few favors for beer, etc.....and then gives you this story that maybe the bartender that got fired might owe you some money!!! What, is this YOUR BOSS telling you this? Does he KNOW HOW ILLEGAL THIS IS??? Not Only is it ILLEGAL, It is Also IMMORAL and Completely Wrong....it is down right THEFT!!!! This is it, you put up with so much crap for way to long, so many other stories to tell about this place. We have been quiet for way to long - this is it - you quit, goodbye!! You get a Lawyer because not only is it wrong, it is so illegal. You actually probably paid more in taxes from the drink tally that you have to claim to the IRS so that they can tax you on 7% off that total because the IRS Taxes servers on their Tips, Hellooooooooo!!!!! Shame, Shame, Shame on that Family Owned Business - But this time they just screwed themselves just like they do their Regular patrons & workers. The silver lining is you quit and was not fired. You are a great Bartender and you will find a better place to work and Now the world will know the Evil of this Evil Place!!!!!
Quinn`s Pub
200 Nieto AveLong Beach, CA 90803

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

'Someone Call me a Doctor!' (Channeling my inner David Lee Roth voice)

I dont know what is up with me lately. Ok, more than just lately, something strange has been going on with me for a few years. I find myself having a short fuse. My focus in life is blurred. I feel restless. I want to do something, I want to do more, I want to do everything, I feel like a horse in a gate wanting that gate to open so I can run as fast as I can.......but to what? Maybe I have no goal. I am used to a goal. I have slowed down my Modeling/Acting/Self Promotion/Business Stuff due to not having a car for a year, but mostly because, I find it harder and harder for me to leave the comfort of my Neighborhood. I always hated traffic, I never liked Los Angeles, I don`t really like being to far from home and shoots were always so far away, that has always been the biggest draw back from my work. However I always loved tinkering on the computer, creating stuff, communicating, making money on my own by being myself.
 I think I may have reached a crossroads in my life. I am not saying that I am quitting anything, I will always model, create things and be in business for myself.......it is just that might be more on the back burner. I want something new, but don`t know what. Over a year ago,I sold my car, I was car-less, I had to get around only by Bike, Cab, Ride, by Foot or if needed, by Rent-a-Car. I loved it. It forced me to stay more local. I walked everywhere, rode my Bike and took cabs. I shopped less because I could only carry so much. I lived more simple. I cut cost down. By spending money locally, I supported the local business where I lived. I cut down my modeling a lot, I would only accept a shoot if it paid enough for a decent days pay plus rental car. By cutting my modeling, I had to find another income in the meantime that gave me flexible hours. I took a job at the local Laundromat/Cleaners. The hours were good, I can walk to work, it gave me a chance to learn a new trade, I got to know my neighbors better, I felt in tune with my community and the stress was better due to no more Traffic! In fact I still work there, I am writing this blog at work right now during a slow period. That is another perk, when it is slow, I can log on, Blog, Tweet, Facebook, email, etc. I can still do what I always have done. I downsized what I used to have and cut cost and I love it!! All that excess baggage was so stressful and not needed.
 After saying all that, you would think I would be all Zen like.....you would think.....hec, I would think! But I still feel restless. I feel anger, stress, annoyed, etc. Any little thing sets me off. I catch myself and try not to explode. I`m ok at that......but not always. I snap and when I snap, I snap hard! I don`t know if I have a reason emotionally or physically. I had a partial hysterectomy when I was really young, maybe this is a hormonal thing? Either way, I am very aware of it and I want to find a way to get over it. Maybe I should find a doctor or something. I have not seen a doctor in quite a long time, unless you count the very few Emergency Room visits in the past decade. Either way, I got to find a way to squash these feelings, I have a feeling that if I don`t, I maybe on a way to an emotional breakdown and explode and it wont be good.
  In the meantime, I recognize it and trying to deal with it. Nothing in my life is in crisis. Sure my marriage is rocky at times, but so is a lot of other people out there. I know I got to handle things better. It is on me and how I react to things that can make or break my day and the day of anyone that is close to me. I need to take better control of things. I need a goal. I need to get on track. I am just trying to figure out how.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Happy Birthday to my Peeps!

Last weekend was a Birthday weekend for 2 of my Friends. Reg & Ed. I made Ed a 'Peep Show' Cake because he loves peeps and I got Reg a Tray of Chocolate Cupcakes + a Pastrami Burger. Poor Reg never got to enjoy his Cupcakes because he had to leave Early. Next Time Reg!
 Reg biting into his Pastrami Burger
 Reg`s Cup cakes and the Makings for Ed`s Peep Show Cake
 Ed`s Peep Show Cake
 Reg before the Burger
Ed on Top of the World!

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Finding 'Myself' in Self Magazine 'I married the wrong guy' - Not what you think - Read On!

Read complete Story, it is not what you think. It gives you a realistic, enlightening, encouraging, self awareness Twist at the end. This story rings very true for me and visa-versa for my Husband, as I think he has the same thoughts. I know my situation has more complicated problems attached to it, but this story goes with the main theme of it. I might be a bit cranky because, when I see my husband flaws, they are sometimes similar to mine and that scares me, which is fear and fear turns to anger because it makes us feel un-safe and threatened. I will probably write more about this, but until then, read this story. I ran across this in a Health magazine called Self. How poetic!

I Married the Wrong Guy

He was sweet, sexy and financially stable, and I told myself we'd be great together. I was totally lying.

I have always chosen badly in love. I wanted the perfect guy, which for me meant someone who would inspire me to become my wittiest, funniest, most adventurous self; who would raise kids with me and stay with me forever despite my nasty temper. Problem is, from college onward, I dated one creative brooder after another—men who had no interest in playing house and would sooner starve than procreate.
By the time I met the man I'll call Nick, I deeply doubted my ability to find a guy who both satisfied my rather predictable physical standards (tall, handsome, with strong hands and a deep voice) and could make my dream of domestic bliss come true. But when a friend introduced us at a party, I saw my perfect manly man, complete with adorably mussed-up hair. When I heard he was single, my stomach did a flip-flop.
In our first months together, I had inklings that we had some serious incompatibilities. I was a writer, interested in people and literary gossip; Nick was a computer and science geek, fascinated by gadgets and facts. I liked order, cleanliness, routine; he got parking tickets, bounced checks and was always late. Plus, he was living with his mother.
But I didn't want to think about all that. Instead, I focused on Nick's cuteness. He wasn't dark or moody like my previous boyfriends. He made me feel protected; he had a good heart. I liked that he could fix things and play guitar. And he was comfortable with commitment. Two weeks after our first kiss, he called me his girlfriend; five months later he moved in. Granted, he was desperate to get out of his mom's house, but still. He cooked dinner and bought me ergonomic computer equipment. When I felt sad, he comforted me.
For the most part, I kept my bad temper in check, but even when I did lash out at him—for being late to meet me, for spilling beer on my rug—Nick wasn't intimidated. He apologized but said, "Don't get so worked up. You're making it worse." And then we'd have fun making up all night.
I quickly decided Nick would make a fantastic husband. Now that I was in my 30s, my desire for a family was all I could think about. About a year after we met, I gave Nick an ultimatum: "If we're not going to marry and have kids in the next two years, I can't stay with you." His response was gentle: "I don't want to lose you, but I have other priorities." I took a breath, feeling an icy river of fear rush through me. "I understand," I said. "But I can't wait."
Flash forward two years: We are married with a baby. Nick largely supports us while I care for our daughter. I have what I've always wanted. I am miserable.
When Nick proposed to me a few weeks after my ultimatum, I asked what changed his mind. "I'm a better man with you," he said. After registering the corniness, I threw myself into his arms. It didn't occur to me to wonder if I was a better woman with him. Now I knew: Not only was I not better with Nick, I was my worst self—judgmental, anxious, controlling.
All I saw was his inability to be witty and fun. I didn't enjoy being with him in social situations. He didn't seem to know how to connect with my friends, but he didn't have any of his own. At parties, Nick waxed on like an overeager child about outer space or nanotechnology; I watched people's eyes glaze over and berated him later for his conversational tone deafness.
We clashed constantly. He was a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants scrambler; I was a micromanager. When our baby had health issues, my panic drove him crazy; his yelling at me to calm down made me want to stab him in the eyes. Exhausted by our battles, we talked about couples therapy, but we both feared that it would just confirm what we already knew—we didn't fit.
Then one evening, shortly after I found out I was pregnant for the second time, I heard Nick's phone beep. Something compelled me to look at it, and I found a short thread of texts between him and a woman. Nick had texted her back: "I already miss you." In a shocked trance, I saw my fingers tap out a message: "Whoever you are, stay away from my husband."

When I confronted Nick, the story came out: They'd had a few drinks, dinner; they'd kissed once, nothing more. He wasn't in love with her, had meant to break it off. "Please try to understand," Nick said. "She respected me. She was impressed by me. Maybe I'm weak, but I need that."
Somehow, I did understand. On our wedding day, we'd vowed to honor each other. Nick wasn't the only one who went back on that vow. I judged everything about him, from his taste in music to the neighborhood where he grew up; I rolled my eyes when he talked; I always let him know if he'd done something wrong. No wonder he'd looked elsewhere for validation. Despite all that, Nick never judged me personally. He didn't tell me I looked dumpy or that I shouldn't eat that third cookie, even though I wore pajamas at home during the day and hadn't exercised in years.
I watched as he composed an email telling the woman that it, whatever it was, was over. We fell into each other's arms, seeking comfort and redemption. After that, for a while, we did OK. I tried to stay in the present, getting our home ready for a new baby and enjoying Nick's renewed efforts to be an attentive, loving husband.
And then, the day after our second child was born, we got into a fight at the hospital. He wanted to get home and was driving me nuts as he bounced around packing things up, when all I wanted was to nurse my son. Downstairs, I watched Nick get into a shouting match with the valet who wanted to charge him $10 for parking our car. All I could think was, Why am I married to this guy? As we got into the car, desolation washed over me.
But as I gazed at my tiny sleeping son, so vulnerable and dependent, I realized that, unlike him, I wasn't helpless. I could either keep acting like a spoiled child, demanding that Nick be perfect, or I could be a grown-up. I knew that intact and miserable was no better than separate, and maybe worse. But I needed to try. And so, I made the most important choice of my life: to fully commit to my marriage. Not to an ideal of love—but to real, complicated love, where things are rarely easy and compromises are constant.
I slowly began to behave differently, to act like the person I wanted to be. It wasn't easy at first, and it still isn't, but that's part of the challenge of being married. The more I laugh, the funnier Nick is. The more I show my appreciation, the more appreciative of me he becomes. Having things my way, I've come to understand, is less important than having someone real to love. I've given up my fantasy of a perfect husband for the reality of a stable family, and, to my surprise, I'm happy—at least most of the time.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Momma says Don`t Play with your Food!

My cat Felix will dip his paw into his food bowl, push a kibble out of bowl, then bat it around kitchen, if it goes under rug, he will stalk it, ponce on it, then chase it around kitchen, destroying all the rugs and everything in his path until he is done and then he will eat kibble.......until he decides he wants another kibble......such a bad kitty.....that`s Momma`s Boy - LOVE IT!!! #PerksOfNormalLife

Monday, March 4, 2013

I am what I am

l am a wack-a-doodle - l will say something uncomfortable - l will be embarrassing, l will piss you off -l will say something enlightening, l will be stupid, l will be smart, l will be responsible, l will be irresponsible, l will listen, l will forget....all in all, l will never be perfect, l will suck, but l am real, and you can always believe what l say, l will never stray, l maybe f&ed;up, but l am real - and when l am there for you, l am there for you like no other, m@therf@cker!!!!....and you will Love/Hate every moment of it!!!!