I'll follow the sun...

At the right time of the year, there is a field between Kewaunee and Algoma where the brown faces and golden petals of sunflowers smile across the highway at the lake. Cars pull over so people can take pictures among the flowers. I didn't pull over...

With a little help from my friends...

Moving is one of my least favorite activities. I hate pretty much everything about it except decorating a new space and starting from scratch. Otherwise, I hate the packing, the lugging, the pushing, the cramming, the unpacking, the cleaning...the unknown. Today's move into The Barn had me filled with quite a bit of anxiety. After hearing the landlord had a shindig in my place between move out and move in days, hearing the boys had shoved a zillion couches in every possible nook and cranny, and imagining my queen sized bed in the trailer and the winding staircase to get to my third floor apartment at the same time but not in peace and harmony, I was a littler nervous. Getting there and deciding we had no choice but to double park and that the previously mentioned landlord had not dropped off my key and the previously mentioned boys had left a rather large chair in the middle of the previously mentioned winding staircase, I was not any calmer. But, trudge on we did. My parents, my hungover buddy Katie80 and I unloaded pretty much everything into the lot behind The Barn by the time the landlord's wife came over with the key. The apartment was even pronounced well-cleaned once it was scrutinized by my mom. So we set about moving things from the lot to the third floor, had to take off some legs of a table to fit it up...nearly broke off some legs to a couch (which was not found on the side of the street...sick) but the real test came with the bed. The box spring first. No chance it was fitting up the staircase. But low and behold with the strength of three women and one man, the box spring is now tucked away in my bedroom, hoisted from the ground floor to the fire escape, maneuvered around the roof, wires, railings, trees...it was an amazing feat, but we accomplished it. After that, the mattress was a shove and some yellings up the staircase but it also made it. What can I say...we're pretty awesome.

I didnt have a blanket for the cold

My last day working in the kitchen is a week from tomorrow. I'm going to miss all the cooking and baking, but I'm getting pretty sick of arrogant and condescending dudes in the restaurant. Good thing I'm going to culinary school for baking and not with dreams of being a head chef...I'm not very good at spending hour upon hour, day upon day, week upon week stuck in a corner of the kitchen listening to some guy yammer on about himself and his opinions, most of which are ridiculous and idiotic and too much information (no I did not need to know that you have never dated a woman who was not on meds...although I could have guessed it). Obviously there are some people in the kitchen that are annoying me. As of about two weeks ago, I'm the only girl in the kitchen, which is fine, except it is just a strange dynamic. Kitchens tend to be male dominated, which is an environment that I'm ok in, but the stereotypical kitchen guy is pretty egocentric. One guy in particular has made me seriously consider walking out in the middle of the day. I told the head chef I might bring in my mp3 player so I don't have to listen to him talk anymore. I don't think he has gone more than one minute without expelling some nugget of info of idiocy...I think the head chef and the manager are worrying a bit about my sanity when I work with my patronizing pal...so the thought of just a week left makes me breath a bit easier. That and the thought of moving into the barn and seeing everyone soon.

Catch a few winks, baby, under the bed

Working in Door County, August customers are often crazier, meaner and worse tippers. This only worsens the moods of the workers. Coworkers' little annoyances are emphasized, tempers flare, energy is extremely limited. Nothing less would be expected when many people are working 5 doubles a week, often in a row, and hours bloat to accomodate the waterfall of tourists.

Right now, my body aches, my mind is working at a snail's pace, and the thought of waking up for work tomorrow does not make me smile...but stepping out of the restaurant, out of a uniform, into a clear night sky filled with stars always does.

I'm a fool to do your dirty work

"Tonda, I just unplugged my last toilet for the summer. I don't care, I refuse to do it again."

"Why didn't you have Gerry do it? He's good at it."

"No I could handle it. I just don't want to do it again."

"The girls always make Gerry do it."

"What??"

"Yeah, the girls act all 'I can do it myself' until they have a clogged toilet, and then they send me in to do the job."

"Someone could have told me that before I spent 45 minutes plunging until my hands ached and mopping up overflow."

"oooooh, you definitely should have had Gerry do it."

"I need a shower."

You lively up yourself and don't be no drag

I get hurt a lot at work. Not really anything big, just little burns, bruises and the very rare small cut. Unfortunately, on Sunday I had a small argument with the industrial sized mixer. The quarrel ended with a maimed right hand and me desperately fighting the urge to pass out, puke and erupt in tears. Being the stellar worker bee that I am (and being afraid to tell anyone in the kitchen that I'm a huge idiot), I collected myself, clutched my right hand to my chest and fought the nausea and pain for the rest of the day. Well, until about a half hour before my usual end time, when I finally confessed to the head chef that he had indeed hired a stupid, stupid girl to work in his kitchen and he sent me home. I think he was secretly impressed that I stuck out the day and am able to wield a knife (among other tasks) using only my left hand. Now, I knew it was no big deal really, but my parents thought otherwise, something about the pain and the swelling seemed to freak them out. So my mom dragged me to the hospital, where of course I was right and nothing was broken, although I did think that something might get broken during the x-ray process, brutal radiologist. Although I couldn't work last night because my hand was too swollen to allow for full bending of the fingers and clutching heavy items like plates and trays and glasses...and pens... I did work this morning and the swelling is nearly gone, even if I did have to wear a small sized glove on my left hand and a medium on my right... The crap thing is that my right arm and hand are sore because of the accident, stupid connected nerves, and my left arm and hand are sore because of being used so much more than usual. OH well, tomorrow begins the Door County Fair, which is free on the first day. I see mini donuts in my future, and I'm not talking about doughnut holes.

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

So far today I have cleaned two bathrooms, stripped the beds, worked out, made a pretty fantastic breakfast and lunch, cleaned both the inside and outside of my car, drove to Sturge, picked up dry cleaning, went to Target, gassed up the car, paid some bills, made a hair appointment, caught up with Lauren ... The rest of the night includes vaccuuming, mopping, laundry, cleaning the other bathroom, dusting, cleaning the kitchen, eating dinner and watching Project Runway. Maybe some hookah. I have to say, a day off when everyone else I know up here is either working or back in hometowns has made me quite productive. I am a nerd.