Hearting so hard tonight!

It takes a lot to wake up at four in the morning. Then go to work at five, make coffee for everyone else on Magazine Street, take their orders for five hours, sipping your own free coffee.... IF you get a chance.

And honestly, you've been smelling, brewing, touching, pulling coffee for so long... that the IDEA of DRINKING coffee is more of an expected obligation than a need. Like responding to the late night text of an ex that you had every intention of never speaking to again... but you know, for a fact, that they are the best at blanking your blank. So you cave in and text back, telling them to come over. Because, like a double tall Americano (with a splash of cream because-- who you kiddin'... espresso be too HARD for your American ass)... they are a sure thing.

Five hours. Of, “Would you like an extra shot of espresso this morning? Anything for breakfast? A blueberry muffin or yogurt parfait? Do you need a receipt today?”going through the motions required of you to be praised as the most excellent minimum wage caffeine monkey that ever ground beans.

You take a one hour break.

Then head to a job that you LOVE. L to the O to the V to the E. LOVE. Do that for 8 hours.

Come home and consider your very neglected loves... writing and reading.

Fall asleep, praying that absence only makes the heart grow fonder.

I went to school because I wanted to be a teacher. A poet. An educator. An activist. I wanted to be all of the things that my body vibrates from the core.

Because I didn't want to be a flair wearing waitress, a back of house butchie- prep cook, line cook, baker, a tech support slave (who looses their job to outsourcing! FUCK ALL that shit ain't fucking funny. Sitcom or no.), a house cleaner, co-op cashier than can't be recognized for passion or dedication.

Not that being every ONE of those things didn't teach me a very valuable lesson. They did.

Gimmicks draw money. BOH is the unloved heart of the service industry. Tech support goes to the lowest bidder... which sorta says a lot about the DELL lap top burning your lap right now. House cleaning might be the most honest and honorable gig you can get without having to pay taxes on your wages. Co-ops CARE... about the bottom line.

What is it that I love to do right now? Dress windows with wacky fashion, talk to people about the awesome fashion line, To The Nines, that donates money towards purchasing school uniforms for girls in Africa and supports locally crafted, made and employed endeavors.

Here's to Bootsy's Funrock'n. 

(pictured above-- my first window display.)

The full time job that I hadn't expected. But thank G-d that I have.

Also.... to M. R. And the lot of you who supported me through Stage 1 of ULTIMATE STAR WARS FANDOM. Que la Fuerza te acompane... amigas.

Because the love founded among girls in middle school still runs strong all around.

Saying Gratefuls

Today I had a full shift at my new job as bartender Cafe Soule. Before that I lent a hand as a retail bunny at Fun Rock'n/Pop City (Cher is the manager). This helping involves me playing head dress up and compiling a list of things I want to buy once I have money to spare. Eventually I am going to be the best dressed (and most ridiculous) high school English teacher. 

So it has been a work heavy day today. But I did get my first $20 dollar tip for opening beer and mashing mint with whiskey.... so that was pretty awesome.

Speaking of work. I've been doing a lot of it. Two jobs and any odd job I can find.

Like being a booth girl for my new friend Scott Saltzman  at The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. Originally I was going to treat myself to tickets on Sunday and Thursday. But I didn't have enough money saved up. So it was a bit of a blessing that a few weeks ago Scott asked me to sit with him and his family during oneg shabbat. Through the conversation he concluded that I had enough retail/photography/art experience (none) to help him with his booth.

I mean. I wasn't going to argue. Technically I have done it before. I once was a booth girl for electrodes and probes. True story. 

 

In any case, the gig consisted of me sitting in a booth, talking to people about some great photography, learning from visitors about great traditions in New Orleans music and taking lots of great yoga breaks.

At the end of the day I was able to take a break to watch the intro to Esperanza Spalding. They'd done something horrid to the sound and her upright bass wasn't coming through. So... I did not get to witness the full force of her awesome sexy. But I saw enough. 

On the way back to “work” I caught a mini parade. 

 It was never my true intention to make my ex-boyfriend ultra mega jealous of my awesome location.... but... you know... accidental Mission Accomplished. I assure you that I make it up to him by being a good friend, a reasonable ex-girlfriend and giving him an open offering of sofa surfing. 

But the end of the day I was totally wiped out. I had a new coat of Aztec Tan sinking into my skin, I was a bit blissed out on my locale and ready to head home and crash without thinking about how deeply awesome things really are.

Thankfully I have a new little friend, T, who invited me to join her in saying her nightly “gratefuls.” We were grateful for a lot of things that I could share but I won't.

But I will share this. I am so very grateful that I'm only a few syllables away from reciting Shema without stumbling.