Work work work. Getting very tired of working. Getting very tired of rude, demanding people. And just about when I'm feeling very justified for giving second rate service back, I remember that my boss washed feet. Darn it.

The verdict is -- whiplash. I'm on lots of drugs now, and going in for physical therapy next week! Free massages! Thankfully the painkillers are non-drowsy so I won't have to drive home without taking them. It would be a shame to get my car fixed just to smash it up again by falling asleep on the way home. My parents would not be amused. In other news, I will officially be working in CA until the 20th of August, after that I'll come 'home.' (sidenote -- frightening to think of waco as home. Been doing that quite a bit this summer, aaaaaah) So I'll see most of you in three weeks (give or take a few days)

what a horrible day at work...I am in pain. So much pain that I finally conceded and called a doctor. So much pain that I needed a half hour massage just to get through the afternoon. Then I had to go to work. I cannot afford not too. AGONY! And then when my had was shaking trying to set down a Latte, the lady at the table screeched "what's WRONG with you? Nerve Damage?!?! hHAHAHAHA" Yes, I found that intensely amusing. But then I'm not in much of a laughing mood. I'm sure there is worse pain on the planet -- I'm just being a weenie. But it does hurt.....hopefully they'll drug me up and let me work. I'd love a day off though. Maybe I'll just get another massage tomorrow before I go to work. It feels so good. I even bought the lotion they used -- coconut mango...yummy!

Well my foks have gone an a marathon trip back to Yakima to buy a house, or find a rental. They've decided they'd rather keep their current tenants in the house on Lincoln so that they don't have a house payment anymore. They loaded the car with stuff, and a U-haul trailer, so I guess they're definatly moving back. I wish they weren't, but they'll get the rest of their retirement, and a new house for which they can pay cash (almost). They'll be leaving here the 18th of august to move back...I'll be in CA until the 20th I suppose, needing to work more now that I've hurt my car. I'll be glad when summer is over...maybe -- this year is my senior year! YAY! Almost out of college. Not that I'm not intending to turn right back around and go to grad school, but I hear that grad school is far easier. Actual free time! Only a couple of classes a semester!!!! Some work study, but you also get a $600 stipend to live on. Sounds like a deal to me. I could get a real job, have time to read and sew! YAY! ANyway, I'm going to go take a shower now and take allison to her horse back riding lesson.

Heard the funniest pun the other day. I needed milk for a nonfat cappacino, and I needed one of the sous chefs to open the fridge for me. I picked up a carton, and attached to it was another carton -- with no milk in it. Still sealed, guess some machine in a plant somewhere missed one. Anyway...I held it up to the cook and said "what on earth is this?" And he said, "looks like hole." Get it?

In a car wreck yesterday. $4,600 worth of damage to my car. Driving home from the wreck the hood of my car (which is no longer connected at the front) flew up and broke my windshield. Screwed up my back -- very hard to carry trays with fully loaded glasses. Have had 2 extra strength tylenol and 2 advil, still no pain relief. Ouch. Ouch Ouch OUCH

Had a date tonight...Jeremy took me to see Hello Dolly! at the PCPA theaterfest. He paid (wow!) and then bought me hot chocolate. I had a great time. The dancing was great, the singing sucked. After it was over, he walked me to my car...even though it was entirely on the opposite end of town than where he parked. That's it. It's final. I've become a Southern girl. Who would have thought that I would care? I happened to mention that Sweeny Todd (my favorite musical ever) is going to be in Santa Maria before I leave, and he has offered to take me! YAY! I've (nervously) offered to lend him my CD, so he can hear it before he goes. It's a little convoluded. I'll give it to him Sunday at work -- and then pray fervently that he'll only listen to it for my benifit. please.....

There is the most beautiful thing at the antique shop. It's a had carved wooden cross, about 3 feet high, with a beautiful Christ hanging on it -- carved out of a lighter colored wood. It was hanging on a door, but we took it down to display some old purses. It's hiding under the settee so no one will step on it, but she's planning on giving it to her son and his wife sometime. The same two people who are giving away her antiques away right and left. If I only had $480 to spend, I would buy it and bring it home. I don't think I could hang it in my apartment, although I'd love to. Another thought was to buy it for our youth room. Episcopals still put christ on the cross don't they? (hmm...maybe only catholics). Too bad -- it's wonderful!

Work was tense today. Not a bad day -- but Lynne (the owner) and Jayne (another older lady) were the only others on. Lynne was short tempered, and Jayne is a little....clumsy? clueless? I'm not sure what. She's the nicest lady alive, and she tries so hard to be helpful, but sometimes you just want to tell her to leave it alone and let someone else do it. She only has one spiel when anyone walks in the door way "Hi folks, lots of goodies to look at..big and small. If you have any questions we'll try to answer them for you." I found myself mouthing along this afternoon. I found myself getting frustrated with her "help" this afternoon, and then I realized, I will be just like her when I get old. I'm clumsy, and doggedly determined to do everything myself. When I'm older I'm sure I'll keep trying to be useful. And I'm sure I'll cause lots of younger people to shake their heads and wonder why I don't just go somewhere else and leave the work to the competent. So, keeping that in mind, I'm trying to treat her as a competent, and respect her as an elder. I'm ashamed to admit that I still got impatient a lot. One of her legs is an inch or two shorter than the other (the result of an airplane gangplank being removed while people were still on it). So she totters around the antique shop coming perilously close to falling on things. In fact she did fall down last week, breaking several lawn ornaments in the process, but mercifully not breaking her hip. Lynda launches tirades, wanting Lynn to not let her come back because next time she might seriously hurt herself, or break something more valuable. But, if I were in Jayne's place, I wouldn't want to be condescended to. I keep remembering the week that I danced a show on a broken foot because I was NOT going to lose the role. Well, anyway it's not my shop, and I don't have to make that decision. But I need to treat her with respect, even when I'm frustrated because I'm picking up something that she's knocked over for the dozenth time.

Time for an open forum for all of you out there. I walked the dog last night, and was thinking about Psalm 23 (thanks for the suggestion Teri) which is the only one I know front to back. Anyway. When I got to the last line "And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" I started thinking about something C. S. Lewis had written in his Reflections on the Psalms. He reminds us that in our Christian application of Old Testament writings, we forget that the ancient Jews had no hope of "grace" as we consider it, and (and this had changed by the time Jesus was born) also had not yet begun to believe in "heaven." (or hell for that matter. They thought of an afterlife similar to the ancient Greeks) So, the above phrase must refer to this life, not the next one. I'm not trying to profound here -- I'm sure this thought has crossed everyone's mind. So, taken in the context that it was written, how does that phrase apply to your life? Aaron, Teri, Darryl, Drea -- lets hear it!

Nothing has been determined. Looks like Yakima for the moment, but they've been given a few more days to tell them definitly, although they have jobs. Dad will be teaching (I think) elementary music at Gilbert Elementary, and mother will be teaching SpEd at IKE. So...to pack, or not to pack. That is the question. ARRRRGGGGGhhhhh.

Well, today is the determining day. As of now, Dad has decided to move back to Yakima, lease a friends other house until either they decide to buy a house, or the current tenants are out of the one they own. The northern California job is supposed to call today at 3. The Christian academy is the best bet -- but the longest shot. They need a forth grade teacher now, but eventually they want to open a high school. My dad has his masters in curriculum development, and taught high school for 22 years. It would be perfect. They aren't meeting until Wednesday, which is too late -- he has to call Yakima back today. It would take a miracle. I'm holding out for one. 8 hours to go.......

My first work related injury...I cut my finger on the foil on a bottle of wine. Ouch -- sliced in up nicely. I don't think I have to report it officially. If, however, I contract tetanis or something, I can't make work pay for my medical expensis. I think I'll risk it. Too much paperwork

I finished Moll Flanders. It is the strangest book I've ever read. After countless lovers, a life as a professional and notorious thief, jail time (incidently, being writtin in the 17th century, they called inmates "penitentary birds" -- ever wonder how old that phrase is? There you go), a death sentence, and deportation to Virginia -- she meets up with one of her husbands (she had at least 3 living, one of whom they discovered to be her brother) in jail. After bribing the captain to set them free upon reaching America, they become plantation owners, repent completely, and live out the rest of their days in peace and prosperity. Very interesting. She makes a big point in prison that she was not repentant for what she had done, merely sorry that she was being punished. Only afterwards did she turn around, repent, and proceed to live the rest of her life on her ill-gotten goods. Hmmmmmm. I broke my cardinal rule and read the book AFTER I had seen the movie. The movie was good, but had (as usual) absolutely nothing to do with the original story. I may have to read the book again to decide if its worth keeping or not. It is the absolute antitheses of Tess of the Dubervilles.

Things are heating up around here. It's time for another case of "God's amazing sense of humor" to strike. My father has until the 15th of July to tell the Yakima school district if he will be coming back to work for them (he can afford to live there, but there's nothing he really wants to do). A few days ago, 4 other job offers opened up all over California. The Christian Academy is interviewing him tonight for a 4th grade position. The local school districts are trying to pull together one full time position between the four of them, and they'll let him know tomorrow. A school district in Southern California is letting him know in the next couple of days what job he has, and another in northern california. The problem is that all of these jobs don't pay enough for him to afford to buy a house (Ken is selling their house and reposessing their car) even if he and mom both work full time next year. It seems to me that some amazing offer is going to come in on the 15th that will allow them to afford to live, but not mean moving back to Yakima. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part -- but isn't it just like Him to send in something amazing at the last minute? My dad is just sitting back and waiting for "door to open or close" as he always does. He's such a wise man -- I'll never be half as good as he is. I wish I could sit back and wait -- I tend to ask for direction, and then dash about pell mell. How does one "wait for God" anyway? As I said before, I gave my life over, but he isn't directing (that I can see -- which of course is limited). I feel like my life is in limbo -- like, God is waiting for me to stop running in circles and run toward him instead. But this isn't about me, it's about my father. (Both of them .. ha ha) Any of you who pray -- please pray for my family if you think of it. It's getting tense around here. Mother doesn't want to move. She hates the cold, and the winter, and the lack of sun. There must be a happy medium that doesn't involve my father either in a job he hates for the next 12 years, or both of them working like dogs to live. We'll know in 4 days. Yikes

We were opening boxes in the store today, and I came across three yards of five inch wide silk satin ribbon. They just don't make that quality of silk anymore -- no one could afford to buy it. I wanted to buy it off Lynne, but she won't sell it to me. Darn it! It's amazing...very old too.

I have created a monster. What on earth am I going to do with this one. Juan has decided that I am the most wonderful person in the world. he calls 5 times a day -- even when he knows I'm at work. He leaves messages on my maching "Hi--I miss you, just wanted to hear your voice. Bye Sweetie. Redhead. Angel." He comes up and pinches my cheek at work, and tries to get all mushy -- which; at work? The last thing I want is to become the object of speculation for the entire Alisal staff. They're the biggest group of gossips ever. I can understand being this mushy if, say, we had dated for ages, and perhaps were engaged. But THREE DATES?! He doesn't even read. One can't carry on an intellectual conversation with him at all. Our entire conversation when we go out consists of him telling me how much he's going to miss me. We walked around town and he kept trying to hold my hand, or touch my hair, or kiss my cheek. He took me to a bookstore, and made no pretence of actually being interested in them. He just wanted to follow me around an breathe down my neck. He won't ever see me again after another couple of weeks. He doesn't even KNOW me. He doesn't know what I like, or dislike, or what I read, or what kind of movies I like, or anything. I don't think he's a Christian (a TOP priority...should have asked him BEFORE I went out, but how does one bring that up in casual conversation?) And to compound the issue, I'm going out with Jeremy tonight (he, by the way, is a Christian). He asked me out the same night Juan did, but our schedules didn't match up until now. This has gotten too complicated. Now what am I supposed to do with this.

Valley of Humiliation, part II. Today is my day off -- from both jobs amazingly enough. I decided to spend a leisurly morning, sleeping in a bit, doing some reading (Moll Flanders is on her 13th lover, no sign of repentance yet....). I heard the door to the outbuilding open, and assuming it was my sister, rolled over to see. There were two strangers standing there. Turns out today was open house day, and someone forgot to tell Rachel. So I go dashing out in my pajamas, yelling at the realtor to have them come back because I'm leaving. Then I ran through the house, passing by more shocked realtors (in my pajamas no less), got in my car and drove off with no idea of what to do with myself -- in my jammies, my glasses on, my face unwashed, and a great case of morning breath. One of my lovelier moments I'm sure. I tracked down my mother buying pepsi at the local store. She laughed fit to kill, and everywhere we went to kill time she made a grand announcement. The only good thing is that I have about 6 changes of clothes in my car from having to change for my second job....mom can't complain about my being a slob anymore. It came in very handy for once!

Quote for the day: "Beware of the inclination to dictate to God as to what you will allow to happen if you obey Him." ~Oswald Chambers

I had the absolute worst day at work today. We didn't have many people at the dining room because there was a Lake BBQ. I only had 5 tables. I walked in with 6 glasses on a tray, set down two, and then proceeded to dump the remaining 4 all over me, the floor, and the lady in the table I had just served. I got a pepsi down my right arm, a shirley temple down my front, an alisal special down my back, and the dregs of a chardoney in my hair and the woman's back. A guy at another table was kind enough to offer to help. Then he ran back to his table shouting "Dude! I saw the whole thing!" The rest of the tables all evening kept yelling "duck" as I walked past, and the bartender kept asking with every order if I wanted that in a cup with a lid. And I had to walk around all evening smelling like a brewery. blech. I'm going to go wash my hair. I'm sure this will be very funny tomorrow.

Reserved women should not date Latino men. Enough said. And "I love you" should not immediatly follow the third date.

Wow, I haven't updated in ages. Side comment, Teri, for someone who gripes enough on her own blog about no one leaving comments, you sure don't return the favor! Anyway, still working like a dog. Today we sold a thousand dollar buffet table. Out of the "other room" (aka, the room where everything goes that doesn't fit in the main room. aka -- the junk room) There's lots of old irons, and horse shoes, and old camaras, and lots of dishes. So since Larissa and I got to move it out (other side note -- very hard for two girls in backless heels to move a buffet), we decided to rearrange the room. My employer's mode of decorating can be summed up into; more! Everything that she is selling is displayed somewhere, to the effect that it's too overwhelming to actually see anything. So we're fixing it. Lynn never goes into the "other room." Since she can't see it, she won't know we're rearranging. Eventually, when those lazy people actually move their vanity set out of there, we're going to rearrange it into a parlor and a kitchen. Or maybe a country store and a living room. Something that says "Yes, you too can have a house like this -- and its all for sale!" rather than "Oh look. Stuff." I'm betting that once it's displayed beautifully, it'll all sell better. We shall see. Lynn is the third generation dealer -- so likely I'm just being cocky. I had a vision though. If I were to own a shop like that, I would arrange it like a house. Parlor, bedroom, kitchen, etc. You could display stuff in cabinets and still make it look like a private collection. That's the idea. Maybe for my next career. Anyway, we took all the random dished off the shelves, grouped them by type and color, and displayed them decoratively. Then we took an old loveseat and set it up with a sidetable to look like a tea party. Then Larissa put all of the cooking stuff into the stove. Its the best we can do until the bedroom set moves out. Tomorrow maybe!

I found what must be the only Grackle in the state of California. I went outside to eat lunch, and this hideous (as all you current Texans out there know) bird with a tail too long for its body comes hopping up next to me. "Are you LOST?" said I. "GRACK," said the grackle. "Are you hungry?" "GRACK" "Would you like a french fry?" "GRACK" So the obviously out of place grackle hopped over and took my french fry, calmly cut it into three pieces, managed to fit all three sideways in his beak, made one more gurgling "GRACK" through a mouthfull, and then flew off looking very proud of himself. The other birds who were keeping a proper distance swore at him as he flew away.

I'm reading Oswald Chambers right now. Ouch....hitting a little to close to home. Today was about fretting. He says that the only time we fret is when we take ourselves out of God's control and start planning our lives without His consideration. Also he says we work ourselves into a corner by allowing ourselves the luxury of thinking that our little sins are too much for God to handle...that he can't take it out of our lives it we let it. So we continue to wallow in them complacently, thinking that even God can't do anything about it. All of you should get this book -- My utmost for his highest -- Oswald Chambers. Aaron, get your copies back! Teri, I'm sure you have it somewhere....

I went on a date last night. It wasn't as frightening as I thought it would be (it's been a LOOOOONNG time). I was worried about having to fend off advances through the whole movie, so in the absence of Runts, I got Sweet Tarts and arranged them by color in my skirt, and at them one by one. Made them last the whole movie....quite a feat. It was a great movie -- Minority Report -- Steven Spielberg, John Williams, how can you go wrong? Then we went to Olive Garden. The waitress was obviously in a hurry to go home. We didn't get three bites of our salad before the meal came, and five bites into that she wanted to know about dessert, and then brought the bill when we said no. Since both of us are waiters, we knew all the tricks to rush people along.... All in all it was a great night! Low key, tons of fun. He likes red heads apparently -- since I'm only going to be here for six more weeks, I think I'll just dye my hair and keep my mouth shut.