ALL BIG DOG GIRLS TO THE DJ BOOTH..... ALL GIRLS TO THE BOOTH

there's something about detroit. most of you know that i lived there for 10 years. most of you don't know that i left my heart there.

i went back for three days this week... 2 days for work related stuff, and the last day to find the pieces of my heart and try to bring them home. 2 outta the 3 were successful ventures.

there's the underpasses off 696. every time i pass under these, my breathing changes. i exhale and a calm comes over me... no matter how many years i've been gone from there, these underpasses scream to me "you're HOME". funny how time changes things. i moved to detroit as a child. i was BARELY 20, newly married, and terrified. i'd never been to the city. the traffic gave me panic attacks, and the highway system was mind boggling. growing up in Kalamazoo, you had 2 highways. that's it. so to wake up and hear traffic reports that you needed to start the day, to SURVIVE... was terrifying. i was lost for a long time... literally and figuratively.

i was shy and quiet and sheltered.. (true story, hold your shock). i was reserved and meek. i had no voice, no confidence and little moxy. i blended in. i was vanilla.


AND THEN.


i took a job as a waitress at the bar next to our apartment.

i don't know if the girls there actually took pity on me, or they REALLY needed help, but they hired me. and i began "LIVING".
regardless of the reasons i was hired, i was accepted. it was a sports bar that catered to softball teams 7 nights a week. we dressed like hooters girls. the girls were loud, bratty, crazy....... and the guys adored and worshiped the girls. i stood in awe of these girls who laughed too loud, hula hooped on tables, and made too much money. the more they abused the guys, the more money they made. i wanted to be exactly. like. them.

i wore the uniform. i began to yell back at the guys. i laughed, joined in on the whipped cream fights, and took up the pet name that was endearing to all of us--"Hooker".

the marriage didn't last.... not because of the job, but for a million reasons that i don't need to rehash. but the 10 girls were there. they were always there. Mama Rae, the ring leader that had originally taken pity on me and hired me... sat me down after the divorce and told me i had more in me, potential to be something awesome... to open up, let it out, be free. momma rae could have told me to jump off a pier and i would've listened. to this day i owe her everything i have become. she has been the biggest influence and mentor in my life.
but she's not the only one....

heather, the one would could kill you with the look of death or with a swift motion, you'd be in the garbage can before you knew it.. never gave me (too much grief) has shared with me the biggest moments in my life. there was marci, the party girl who was tattooed and pierced and the best walking dictionary on alcohol, but had a heart of gold. rosann, the one with boobs and a heart just as big. sarah, the girl next door who all the guys adored and threw amazing parties. the marzetti sisters: angela.. the mouth that didn't quit and a laugh that would melt your heart and amy, the baby of us, the bikini queen who's sass is STILL unrivaled to this day. amber, the badass that would give you the shirt off her back, or a room in her apartment when you really needed a place to stay...and amy b. who didn't put up with the ball players shit but had such a killer smile, they didn't care... and kristy, who's red hair matched her temper, could party like a rockstar, but her honesty was pure. and dancin' beth.. who was given her name because she could dance anywhere, anytime, to anything.

i loved these girls. i admired these girls. i took little pieces of advice from all of them. i was molded to take the pieces of them that i loved and apply them to my life. the end product is exactly what i wanted... a complete masterpiece that all of us big dog girls share..... we're too loud, we're opinionated and aren't afraid to tell you what's up, we laugh all the time.. especially at the inappropriate stuff, we're tough, we don't put up with your shit, and i'll be damned if we aren't all so stubborn that we WON'T go down without a battle.

(this isn't the blog for the stories for that era, and believe me... there's about a million. seriously. and i'll get there, i promise)

when the Big Dog closed, we all went our ways. we stayed in touch the best we could... i was with them for 6 years.. you don't leave your sisters behind. but time changes, people marry, move, have kids, get "grown up" jobs. so along comes facebook, and here we all are. with the ballplayers that gave us all their money. literally. all the money. we've all got together in the last couple years. it's always the same. the same stories, the same laughter, the same eye-rolling.. the same. amazingly the same. time may have changed dynamics, but it has not changed any of us. you're right, heather... true friendship doesn't see time as 5 years or 5 seconds....it picks up right where it left off.

i'm incredibly lucky to hae a group of friends that have an understanding that bitchface is a term of endearment, hooker is another word for best bud... and i hate you means i love you more than you could ever know.

thank you for all crating the monster that is ME.

i hate you all so much, you bitchface hookers.

" hey it's ok " dirty little secret edition

HEY... it's monday.. so that means it's time for Hey---it's ok. (because i'm making my own rules today)

SOOOOO....


HEY--it's ok......

*to know every word in songs of musical theater... or from the 1960's.... or by Rogers and Hammerstein. it's also ok to sometimes pretend that you're maria from the sound of music.

*to have dirty little secrets

*to laugh with your girlfriends over the same stories for a decade. it's even better if you all finish the same sentence with the same voice pitch. but no shrieking.

*to still pee a little bit while laughing to adam sandler "at a medium pace"

*to wish you had a pool so you could hire a pool boy.

*to make chocolate chip cookies just so you can eat the batter

*to really believe that you have outgrown Cosmo, but still read it because you just can't bear to subscribe to Woman's Day

*to quote Douglas Adams incessantly because it makes you feel smarter.

*to really not like certain people in this world and not hide the fact from them.

*to wonder what ever happened to pencils

*to accept the fact that if it zips, it DOESN'T always fit.

*to go to the movies by yourself. in your pajamas....and not be ashamed.


so there you have it. the more you know *shooting star*

for the record... we take Hawiian currency.

well, aren't you all so lucky? two posts in two days. unfortunately this is truly a rant blog today.

my mood has been affected by work more so lately than ever. i suppose, who's isn't! long story short, there are a few guidelines in dealing with your waitstaff. (DISCLAIMER: all of my dear friends that come in to visit... THIS IS NOT DIRECTED AT YOU. you guys get it exactly right; i know this because i have never wanted to pry any of your faces off with a shovel.) this is more for the general public. that's not true. i just need to get this off my chest.

* don't order half drinks. no half decaf, half caff. this isn't starbucks. also, don't make your own coke zero by having half diet, half regular. it doesn't work that way. if you MUST order something mixed, please don't give me directions on how to mix it ie: 3/8 diet on the bottom, 1/ 16 regular, and layer accordingly. i don't do fractions.
*also, don't put hazelnut creamer in your pop.
keep that dirty little secret at home.

*don't invent your own menu. 1... MAYBE 2 substitutions.. don't be all rachel ray. you've already been labeled high maintenance, and nothing is ever gonna be what you want.

* if you need a napkin... ask for a napkin. don't unroll all the silverware on the table. silverware doesn't already come rolled.. unless it's plastic.

*be careful with the "funny" jokes. my name isn't "Flo", we don't have "big macs and fries", and saying you like your eggs "fertilized" is just plain nasty. also, i left my other arms at home, i CAN carry more plates, i DO have a college education, and if my arms are to full that i can't give you the finger, then i don't have change for a million dollar bill. and for the record, we DO take Hawaiian currency.. i'm a waitress, not an idiot.

*i like kids. i will give them crayons, talk on their level, ask THEM how their food is. I don't like PARENTS that let the kids eat all the jellies, drink the all the creamers, and pour the hot sauce on the ground. before you get all high horse, i know that babies make messes. but, please... for the future of civilization, teach your 8 year old some manners.

*know my name. if i have taken the time to remember your name, and the other 50 of you that come in on a daily basis.. along with where you work, what shows you watch, how the weather affects your bunions, and what you eat......learn my name. there's one of me. and i'm a Jennifer.... it's not much easier.

*I totally understand going to a place and ordering the same thing.(there's a salad that i crave to the point of embarrassing obsession at the pla.... ooops) but this is twofold.. one) if you come in everyday and order the exact same thing, we need to talk about you living a little. there's a big world out there, think outside the box (but don't be making shit up all willy-nilly: see above) and two) if you come in everyday to order oatmeal and toast, i'm sorry that i am either the highlight of your day or you are such a horrid cook that you can't even make oatmeal and toast.


* lets talk honestly about money here.. shall we? (i'll get to my origins as a waitress in another post... you just stay tuned for THAT series) waitressing is good money, if you know what you're doing. it's not because we make giant paychecks.. because $2.65 an hour doesn't make for good paychecks. see that $2.65 an hour. we don't make money because people throw money at us because we are awesome and funny and quippy and smiley and friendly, although they should. we make money on sheer mass of TURNOVERS. the more people we feed the more money we make. it literally COSTS me money to wait on you when you've been sitting for 3 hours drinking $2 coffee. not to mention the fact that all the people giving you the eye while they wait in line for you to finish up your 62 cup. i make good money. i do. i support my family, pay my bills, and am (usually) a productive member of society. i judge my performance on my pay immediately. i don't have the option of a phone to hide behind, or a breakroom to sneak away to. to my tables (at least), i am consistent. it's tough to show up everyday, to smile, to entertain, and to keep orders straight and drink fractions balanced. that extra dollar really does make a HUGE difference in our day.

*and finally... the most important... don't be a dick. don't show up at 2:15 when you KNOW we close at 2:30. you know that look you give clients when they call before close? i can't give you that look... at least til i turn around. don't be shitty, i control your food. don't degrade me, i'm somebody's daughter, wife, sister. and... I'm a Jennifer.

hey... it's ok to to be appreciated more for your brains than your bra size.

because i do things on my own time (i prefer to think of my self as a trend "setter" not a "follower"..well, usually. sometimes. not really so much) i tend to be a little late getting on the band wagon, if i care to even glance at the band wagon. some band wagons are really worth taking a look, and ride on. My very dear friends, Maryann (of kmzeller.blogspot.com), Nancy (of thenancydiaries.blogspot.com) and Sarah (of alittlewhineandcheese.com) all took the blogging steps before me... and i still have much to learn from these pioneering creative souls. BUT, as per my style... i'm doing it (hence the last one in the pool. eh.. get it? GET IT??) maryann had this great idea (albeit, borrowed from glamour magazine..but a fantastic theft still) and, in the spirit of friendship, i'm taking it to be my own. except on wednesday.

hey... it's ok.....

* to be upset that you lost the Wii in the custody battle, but only because you didn't pay for it in the first place

* to say that american pickers was deleted from the DVR because "A&E won't record things on their channel". except hoarders.

* be really really really excited about the "Big Bang Theory season 3" that just came out on DVD, but only because the other 2 seasons are so lonely on the shelf.

* to block your step kids off your facebook page because you're pretty sure that their mom is reading your posts via them.

* to leave a candle unattended ONCE in a while.

* to think other people my age are getting so old.

* to rather watch Dexter because it makes me think, than to watch Jersey Shore because it makes me want to pull my face off. and also, blood and guts are cool.

* to believe that a bottle of wine seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to have for dinner

* to read the book and have no interest in the movie. however... if is NEVER ok to do the opposite.

* to still hang out with your ex's friends. simply because they are incredibly cool people. and he got the Wii

* to have the NERDIEST netflix queue ever.. and be excited about it. biographies, indies, documentaries... lets talk!

* and on that note... to be appreciated more for your brains than your bra size.

it's because of Reverend Fox.

some people shop. i don't have the money. some people party. i don't have the tolerance. some people so to therapists. i can't bear the thought of having to PAY someone to listen to me, poor thing. my therapy is painting. picasso be dammed, i paint walls. rooms. trim. doors. it shuts me up and makes martha stewart proud.

the painting is something i do to clear my head, and the paint fumes make things more interesting. i should mention that i do all the painting, taping, clean up ALONE. because it's not fair to yell more at someone else who drips on the floor less than yours truly. usually clearing out the ol' cranium is a ridiculous smattering of thoughts that would confuse an expert on ADD. tonight was different. i was asked a question a few weeks ago... and it's stuck in my head.

"why on EARTH would you marry another christian high student???!!!"

the answer is: Rev. Fox.






that's right. super joe. the rev. the keeper of the fox-box.


if you would have told 17 year old me and my perm that we would be marrying a boy from the same polka-dotted halls.... 17 year old me would have replied with an eye roll and "psshh. as if!" mostly due to the fact that i'm pretty sure that none of the guys from the polka-dotted hall saw me as anything but a girl that laughed too loud and had bad hair. (both are true) high school is... well.... you all know. you've all done it. but, KCHS is a little different. if you didn't go there... feel free to tune out. i totally understand. i'll get back to you guys in another blog.

i'd ask if you remember chapel... and then i'd feel stupid because how could you not? if you were sneaky enough to somehow manage to sneak out of the walk between homeroom and the gym to attend to "more important issues", well, nice work. (and for the record, the rest of us knew that you were at sweetwaters. or smoking up on westerns campus.) chances are still pretty good that you attended at least one. (hopefully the one where we dropped all the pennies because that was pretty amazing) anyway.... the rev. joe would be up there, preaching away, singing heartily... oblivious to the fact that there was a pretty small group paying attention, not passing notes, not changing words to songs, not counting the minutes until the group that didn't successfully escape the herding, could get the donuts after chapel.

christian high is something else. i loved high school and am eternally grateful for the education i recieved there.... i realize that this is not the norm. not everybody felt that way or had a great time. but we all had chapel. we all had 4 years of bible. we all had to sit in bio and smell the formeldehyde of the cats that would be disected. we all took a computer class before the internet was even a thing.

there's only 500 people or so that can relate to that..... KCHS from 1991-1995. there's only about 120 of us that look back at the class of 95 and ask "when did we get so old?".

so there, my friends, is your answer. you marry people that understand things no one else does.

it doesn't have to be from high school.. because lets face it.. it IS a little strange. it's from college, from work, from church, FROM LIFE. people are put in our lives every day... it's up to us to figure out why they are there.


so thank you... ALL of you. you've all fit into my life so perfectly.


oh.... and thanks for loving me in spite of the perms. and tight rolled, tapered leg jeans (you did it too)