Lots of random thoughts going through my head....My storage unit in Waco had a water main break under it. Luckily my unit was on the uphill side and only got an inch of water. My boxes got wet, and all of my custom framed art is ruined, but my furniture seems to have escaped damage. My loveseat is on castors and didn't get wet at all (Good thing too, it's from 1840). Adrian and the Scobells spent hours over there yesterday pulling stuff out of the water and taking it home to be washed, dried, opened, spread out and ironed (in the case of whatever art they can save). I'm petitioning for a month's rent free at least, and I'm starting a letter campaign to get reimbursed for the artwork. Custom framing is expensive. I'm not sure what the talley was last night, but I think its edging around $1,000. My diplomas and high school letter shadowbox are in bad shape, and my needlework is wet ... the stretching and framing of that piece alone was $250.

Rich people (as a gross overgeneralization) stink. We had a group of three dozen lawyers in last night. They had a private party in the bar. No one wanted to wait in line for a drink, so they'd shove their way up to the front and talk to the bartender like he was 1)stupid, and 2) hard of hearing. Then the leader came to me. The hors-deuvres toothpicks weren't "working" for him. I told him it was finger food anyway, and was probably ok to be uncouth. He wasn't alright with using his hands, so I had to go find some silverware. The leader's wife ventured into the dining room to check out their tables. There were a couple of kids with their parents at the two tables near them. Older children. Like 14. "What are they doing here? WE had the decency to farm our kids out so no one would be bothered by them (including themselves I'd imagine) Well, how much longer are they going to be eating? Can you hurry them along a little?" Oh yes. She was a charmer. Another table of them, once they'd finished in the bar, went through 8 bottles of wine. They stayed until almost 11. Then they wanted after dinner drink, "What do you have? What kind of port? Which is the dryest (usually the oldest is a safe bet. More of the sugar has converted to alcohol)?" Being the dutiful waitress I am, I went into the bar and tasted all the ports with the bartender to make sure we found the dryest one. The other table saw the first table's drinks and decided they wanted some too. It took me forever to get to Wendy's house for daquiris. After a night like that, we both needed one.

Speaking of strange but true, a friend of mine works at a restaurant in the daytime. The last few weeks, everytime she goes into work she's been instantly angry. She's in a great mood on her way there, and when she walks in the door, poof. She went into work a few days ago, and there was a lady, in the kitchen, swinging a crystal over the bread counter where the cooks were working. She was muttering to herself. My friend went into the dining room to call a manager. The lady came into the dining room, and began walking around the room, swinging the crystal and muttering some more. Then she pulled out a forked divining rod and waved it around the room. My friend couldn't take it anymore and asked her what she was doing. The woman looked up and over my friend's head, eyes kind of unfocused. "I'm searching for negative energy. It's what I do. It's my gift." She had been hired by the restaurant to "search out the bad mojo." The place isn't doing as well as the owner hoped. My friend had to go get a cup of coffee to chill out enough to work. Welcome to California!

Eight days until payday again. Hours are so slow. This pay period I'm living off rice, beans, granola, and dried apricots. And lots of water bottles. I found a britta at the thrift shop a couple of weeks ago. I just keep refilling... I'm not starving, of course. Not really. But I am getting tired of granola. And I'm just not very proficient at cooking beans by microwave. I haven't figure out the pre-soaking. Wild rice takes forever to cook. Did you know that? I'd always done minute-rice. Wendy gets mad because I don't come steal food at her place. I'm getting very creative at eating work-approved leftovers: the last of the bar hors deuvres, a bowl of soup before they dump the pots, a take-home meal at the end of the night (two meals there), the last three pieces off cheese and one decimated grape cluster off the wine and cheese platter. And if I'm really in the mood to splurge, and get off my first job in time, I'll go have a meal in the Employee dining room. I know those meals come out of my next paycheck, but sometimes a girl needs meat. I made the mistake of eating the rich leftovers of the lawyer group last night, and a bowl of heavy-cream based clam chowder. After almost a month of a no fat, almost no meat diet, it just about did me in. I have to credit God with the happy coincidence that landed Mary Hunt's "The financially confident Woman" book in my lap. If I hadn't stumbled across that book in the church library on finances I would have no idea how much money I have, how to manage it, stay within budget, and not depend on credit cards when money gets tight. And God isn't without mercy. Somehow, about the time I'm getting really really tired of granola, and would kill for something that isn't bulk and from the health store, someone will tip me just enough for a little splurge...a cheeseburger, or a pepsi. A tiny splurge keeps you from getting too discouraged. And spring break is near! One more week of slow, maybe two...then the money will be rolling in! And rolling back out. Still have those pesky student loans....

Something happy, something happy. My ledger has balanced to the penny three months in a row. How's that for impressive. I haven't bounced anything even as close to the edge as I've been these last few months, because I know where everything is and where it's going! No small victory for any of you who know where I was during college. Darn irresponsibility bighting me in the behind.

Two more auditions in the next three weeks. One for a cruise line, and one for Disney. How would you feel if I blogged from, say, Tokyo?