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12:37 p.m.
it's been a while since i've updated. i've been dealing with a psychopath. i started recieving some bizarre anonymous e-mails on the fifth of the month that informed me i was a heartbreaker and that i would pay for my mistakes in the afterlife. second and third e-mails soon followed, with more and more details about my life included. the messages were strange, extremely weird, and to be honest kinda freaked me out. this person seemed to know a lot about me and was offering details about my immediate future even.

i played cat and mouse with this weirdo for a while, trying to discover the origin of my stalker. late yesterday afternoon, the idiot slipped up and wrote me from a piasanet.com e-mail address. i did a little sniffing around and determined that this was a guy i had spoken to online about 3 YEARS AGO. just call me Scully.

we had a little online/telephone relationship back then that ended when we met face-to-face. he creeped me out and stole my car keys, and well, that is all i wanna go into here.

but, obviously the guy's got a hang up, because his "masterplan" was to seduce me into flying to NY to meet him next summer after recieving a plane ticket in the mail.

ha! what a fool. as if i'm stupid enough to hop on a plane on the whim of some lunatic, just because he knows a few personal details about me that can easily be found out on the internet.

the e-mails were highly upsetting and sadly, i lost a little bit of sleep over them.

i called him out on his silly little plan, then blocked him from ever e-mailing me again.
a small victory, yes, but i am not completely satisfied. if any of you readers are super hack daddies, then feel free to bomb this dude's ISP. he owns piasanet, a small and from what i can tell inferior service provider in Illinois. once there, take a moment to point and laugh at his site design.

okay...i feel better now.

in other news, peter gave me a shout out. the links her provided were highly helpful. i enjoy him, as you can see at right he's a daily read.
i'm still working my way slowly down the list.
i strayed from it a bit when i rented The Straight Story, David Lynch's latest and only Disney film. (Lynch/Disney: sounds like an oxymoron, huh?)

i felt a little guilty about abandoning the list, but it had just come out and well, i wasn't at all disappointed at the finish. the picture is rated G, which for Lynch is unprecedented, but the movie was sweet and touching and had the look and feel of all his other works. signature lynch.

i cried several times, cause i have a soft spot for elderly men (do NOT read into that). Richard Farnsworth was robbed at Oscar time. not that Kevin Spacey wasn't genius in his American Beauty role, but Farnsworth's performance had much more depth.

rather than let these capsule reviews go to waste, i just may put my pen to the test by writing movie reviews at epinions. what do you think?

03:06 p.m.
Fire Walk with Me

The "Double R" diner of features in "Twin Peaks" was burned by an arsonist yesterday. I'm a little heartbroken.

I hope they find the bastard. (Could it have been BOB?)

12:48 a.m.
even nice girls snap.

work tonight was crazy and surreal in every way. let me preface my entry by saying i was up very late last night drinking red wine at a friend's house. i didn't go to sleep until 5:30 a.m. i'm a party girl, i know...
so i come to work tonight pretty unexcited about the whole thing. the restaurant is slow at first, and i read a Time magazine and learn how to juggle Starbursts (okay, so i didn't really learn, but whatever.)
out of nowhere people are streaming in and i find myself weeded.
(sidenote: servers often say they are "in the weeds" or "so weeded right now", to express how busy they are. there are variations on the usage, such as "in the jungle", for those who are so busy they couldn't tell you their name)
so i'm running around and sweating and generally keeping my tables fat and happy, when i go back to get a tray of food for my table. three guests, two women and a man, who are very cordial and polite and have ordered quite expensive items on the menu.
two of the people ordered crab legs, which come with a drawn butter. but just you wait right there, this is no ordinary drawn butter. no, this butter is melted and then has the fat whipped back in to make it creamy rather than thin, and to provide those extra calories you know you need.
anywho...the two cordial and polite customers asked for extra of the creamy butter. no problem.
i go back and start dishing up the butter when i notice we are almost out. i ladle out two monkey dishes (3 oz.) of fattening butter, for each crab leg orderer. now i realized at the time that our heart attack butter generally goes in a ramekin (2 oz.), but alas, they wanted extra.
so the grill guy sees there is no more lardish butter left and tells the saute guy he may need to make more. upon hearing this, all hell breaks loose and i begin my emotional meltdown (pun clearly not intended).

my manager yells over to me that i shouldn't be using that much, whilst the saute guy is cussing his ass off because he'll need to make more. i guess super-duper fat ass butter is hard to make.
i tell him that in actuality i'm serving less butter in the monkey dish (3 oz.) than i would be by giving them 2 2-oz. ramekins. he says, firmly, 'no.' which by the way, defies all logic and rationale.

so, i throw the monkey dishes (silly name, not my fault) in the dish area and watch as my manager gives each plate only one ramekin each. he says, "if they want more they get more."
i bite my lip and begin to head out with the tray, when the tattle-tale grill guy says, "when they ask for extra that doesn't mean they want of fucking bowl."
here is where i snap.

everyone is the kitchen is wrong and i am right. i go over it in my head for approximately 2 nanoseconds before deciding on telling them both (manager and kitchen guy) to kiss my ass. yep, i really said it.
the manager yells at me, "Brittney, NO!," as if I'm three and i head out with my crab legs garnished with the standard amount of crud butter.
of course, when i get to the table they ask for more butter.

at this point i'm ready to cry and i literally have to bite my cheek to keep real live tears from spilling. i begin to sob furiously once back in the kitchen for everyone to see, and the manager man says we should go outside for a smoke.
he asks me why i'm crying, and i can't for the life of me figure out why. over crab butter? surely not.
so to make a long story longer, i apologized profusely between chokingly hyperventelating cries, for telling him to kiss my ass.

i honestly think this job is getting to me.

(the last table i had was a really freaky man and his daughter and they both weirded me out, but you've heard enough on work tonight, i'm sure.)


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daily reading

in my head:
fiona apple's when the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king what he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight and he'll win the whole thing 'fore he enters the ring there's no body to batter when your mind is your might so when you go solo, you hold your own hand and remember that depth is the greatest of heights and if you know where you stand, then you know where to land and if you fall it won't matter, cuz you'll know that you're right