This is what my limit looks like

October 29th, 2017, 5:52 PM by Goddess

Got screwed for the third time at a favorite restaurant today.

Three visits in a row now, I’ve not been able to eat at the same time as my friend or mom. Always have to send someone’s food back to be redone.

The thing is, the food is always great when it’s fixed. The managers are fantastic, and totally make up for the sucky server and/or cook. Two out of the three visits, I got my meal comped.

The thing is, it’s like any job. If the corporate equivalent of servers and cooks can’t get it right — and the manager ends up doing everything anyway — why do you need “help”?

I’m already at my wits’ end about so many things. Is it so much to expect that when I order grilled salmon, the fucking thing touches some fire at some point and isn’t oozing its innards all over my plate?

Maybe I’m just annoyed because it’s Sunday night and I have work to do that I would like to be done right. Without 75 questions that require more effort than tackling the project itself. Without “well I never did this before” from someone who’s been there exactly a year and a half LONGER than me and I KNOW my/our old boss didn’t do jack shit so SOMEONE had to do it.

And I have a sneaking suspicion I have to cancel next weekend’s plans. Unrelated but equally infuriating. Especially since I’ve spent money I guess I can’t afford anymore to make it happen because my landlord is putting me on the street AT CHRISTMAS.



A Cat-5 cataclysm in my mind

September 14th, 2017, 9:59 AM by Goddess

1. We Floridians can weather a Category 5 storm without even putting down our beers. But come on, people. There are only two working traffic lights on my 26-mile commute. Do you really not know that you’re NOT supposed to slam on the gas when you approach these brand-new four-way stops?

2. Shit for Fucking Brains tRump just landed in Florida. I wonder if Slut for Brains Melania is wearing camo-colored stilettos. Go the fuck away both of you. Wish Mar-a-Lago washed out to sea. It’s fucking hideous. The Merriweather-Posts are probably rolling over in their graves at the sheer gaudiness of it all. And also that fucking TRASH lives there now. #MAGA

3. These uncouth fucks sold Make Attorneys Get Attorneys #MAGA hats to underwater Texans. Maybe they will sell tank tops here since it’s a thousand degrees and eight people have died in a nursing home so far that didn’t have A/C.

4. Speaking of uncouth fucks, the only people I want banished to Siberia as much as those two are my latest batch of upstairs neighbors. Last night it was screaming, stomping, pissing, screaming, pissing WHILE screaming, guitars and more screaming ALL NIGHT LONG. Die. Die. Die. Just DIE. #MAGA

5. And for all those OTHER uncouth fucks who tell me “just move” like the assholes who told me “just evacuate,” please join that crowd at the end of a dock in Cudjoe Key next time a Category 5 hurricane slams into it head-on. You cough up first month’s rent, last month’s rent, full-month deposit and pet fees/rent (Six Grand. I’ll Wait) and we’ll talk.

6. Not sure why I had to come back to work and half the company didn’t. But whatever. I enjoyed being insanely busy. And I realized that even though we’ve let a lot of really good people go, the rest who stayed home did us a favor by staying out of our way. Can we make some trades now?



9/11 — post-Irma (and post-11/9) edition

September 11th, 2017, 12:35 PM by Goddess

When you spend a week glued to Jim Cantore & Co … a day and a half staring at the destruction unfolding outside your window … and another half-day-ish with no cable/Internet/electric and delusions that your four fully charged phone banks can somehow power your Keurig because you live in an apartment and can’t buy a generator … you have a lot of time to think.

I mean, I mostly thought about all my snacks. And ATE THEM ALL.

Not pictured: Ice cream and wine. Because, in mah belleh. *burp*

Obviously, that I am even typing this means we made it through. At some point I gave up on being annoyed at everybody and their “Sending prayers!” And in fact, when a friend said she fucking hated even writing those stupid words, but felt so helpless having nothing else to offer, I said it was welcome. That it’s not like any of us have our wits about us right now to pray for our safety. Thank you for doing it for me.

I don’t want to say their prayers worked. (But that won’t stop me from thinking it.)

But we got off pretty easy compared to Cudjoe Key (Category 4 impact), Key Largo, Islamorada, Marco Island (Category 3 impact) and the Naples/Fort Myers area. I won’t take that for granted.

I think prayers helped. And I know we got a big assist from Cuba, the Virgin Islands, Barbuda and everyone else who got nailed before us. The destruction outside the U.S., and/or in the U.S. territories (which half the nation seems to forget), helped to curb Hurricane Irma’s impact in a big way.

The storm was called historic because we’d never had two Category 4 storms make landfall in the same year. (Harvey was the other.)

Hurricane Jose also helped us — it pushed Irma westward, and dry winds to the west also helped to tame Irma a bit.

But anyone who wants to keep denying climate change and saying it’s a liberal Chinese hoax can suck my big fat furry cat nuts. The air was hundred-plus-degree soup and the water was even hotter.

This was the first time I breathed yesterday, as the storm moved just north of me … and kept moving:

So yeah, I’m ready to rage on our idiot president again, now that I’m out of danger. (What do you call a flock of assholes? A Trump rally.)

That and that he mumbled through two moments of silence in honor of 9/11 today does not shock me.

And I will maintain till the end of time that 11/9 was a more-devastating day in our country’s history than 9/11.

In any event, it appears Jax is underwater (again — they got the hit from Matthew last year) and Pensacola is a hot, wet mess. Funny how those areas were set to be spared and WE were supposed to meet a watery end right where I am.

That’s one more message (missive) I want to send, If you have something to say, go ahead and send a prayer.

Don’t fucking put me down for my choice of where to evacuate to (or not evacuate at all).

Cribbed from Faceypages:

PLEASE TAKE A LITTLE TIME TO READ THIS….?
Dear Non-Floridians,

Rules when discussing the hurricane with Floridians need to be put in place….

1) Calling people who don’t evacuate “idiots” or saying “they deserve what happens to them” is a judgement statement that without facts, you are not qualified to make.

2) Just go get a plane ticket! (You can’t just fly out.) Don’t make statements or give advice on how we should evacuate. You don’t have the slightest knowledge of what we are up against. There are challenges to leaving. Flights out are being changed, cancelled, delayed. Tickets are $2-3,000 higher than they normally are and that’s one way.

3) Don’t say “Get in your car and drive fast out” A) Gas stations are getting fuel still, but that fuel is gone before the lines are empty.
B. ) There is no driving fast. Cars are moving 5-7 mph on highways trying to get to safety. The lines are long and imagine, with a gas shortage, being stuck on highways in jams for 12-15 hours.

4) Florida has one way out, and that is through the top (Northern) part of the state. There are basically 2 major roads out. Those roads are jammed, backed up, and not expected to change.

5) To post “Florida is about to be wiped off the map” because you are watching the news reports and panicking from 3,000 miles away- is not the most uplifting thing for us to see. Plus, don’t speak your devastation to us. Be positive!

6) “If I lived in Florida, I would have evacuated a week ago.” Well I’m not so sure that you would have. It’s not that simple if you have a heart…not only that, you don’t know until the final days which path the storm is going to take. Homes have to be boarded up. Things have to be done to ensure that if you do leave, you have somewhere to return.

7) Stop saying God is angry and that’s why Texas went through what Texas went through and that Florida is being hit. God isn’t angry. Every person in the path of destruction was created in His image. Every person not in the path of destruction was created in His image. He is not angry. He is not judging us. He is not putting His wrath down. If you believe that, we don’t serve the same God.

8.) “Go to a safer part of the state.” Yes, we thought of that. No one knows exactly what part that is. If Irma takes a turn it could hit the west coast- if we are all fleeing to the west coast because it says the east coast is the most dangerous, then that could be costly. We know what we need to do and we are monitoring the situation.

Feel Free to pray for us!

Feel Free to check on us, text us, call us. But, don’t text your fears of our demise. Don’t call us crying because you are scared for us.

We have a storm to conquer and we need to be healthy, mentally and physically.

When your son or daughter or friend gets ready to go play in a competitive sport … before the game, do you call them and say ….
“you are going to lose”
“don’t show up for the game”
“The odds are against you”

I would hope not… well we are preparing to overcome this storm. Send us some prayers and encouragement! We welcome it! If you are going to do anything less than that, turn your TV or radio off and keep your mouth shut!

God bless all, stay safe, love and help your neighbors.

If I had time/money, I would have taken up my friends’ offers for North Carolina, Baltimore and D.C. If I could have gotten a flight or a hotel or GAS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, there were many possibilities. If I didn’t fear NOT being able to return home (there are downed power lines everywhere and roads blocked by trees and roads that are totally underwater), money wouldn’t even have been a factor.

Not many people were stupid enough to snark to me. They did however tell my mom that I was dumb deciding to go back home.

But if there’s something I know about hurricanes, it’s that they change their mind a thousand times before landfall. And even then, they can pivot.

I asked my guides and the stars what to do. At first my gut said “Orlando. You have to be in Orlando.” Then when I got home I felt like, “OMG, this was the best decision I could make.” And that was before the weather proved me RIGHT.

Speaking of consulting one’s gut on all sorts of things, that’s a blog entry I want to tackle next. Stay tuned …



#irmagerd

September 10th, 2017, 12:24 PM by Goddess

The cunt formerly known as Hurricane Irma — who is also bringing tornadoes, flooding and crazy-ass winds — is almost here.

Key West? Wiped out. Naples/Fort Myers/Tampa? Next up.

Speaking of wipeouts, check out this joker taking a selfie at Southernmost Point.

Link: https://qz.com/1073601/webcam-watch-people-take-selfies-as-theyre-engulfed-by-hurricane-irma-in-key-west/

Meanwhile, a disaster (Rick Scott) called up a disaster (that Trump dude) to declare Florida a disaster area. Sounds about right.

Here in PBC, the winds are now 55 mph. My lone screen (bedroom) is about to fly into the great unknown. The “hurricane glass” in the living room is leaking from the rains. Irma hit Key West as a Category 4 and even though PBC is out of the “cone of destruction,” I am not hopeful that this apartment will stay dry-ish. Nor my storage unit with my entire life’s history (and writings) in cardboard boxes. Or that they will even be there now with tornadoes ripping through the southeast portion of the county.

I do have a bug-out bag, though. Filled with pink tank tops from my favorite underwater towns, a pink phone charger and Pink! (Rinaldi) wine. Because, this Florida girl color-coordinates her shit, even when she is LOSING her shit.

The cat is nuts. The bathtub in this 11-year-old apartment does not hold water. My bathroom, previously designated as the “safe room,” sounds like an airplane hangar because of the winds hitting the concrete. (Did you know a Category 2 storm can snap concrete in half? I didn’t. TILL NOW.)

I’ve eaten two pints of Halo Tops (chocolate and chocolate-banana. Mmmmm). And we have some good loot from Disney. (OMG churro popcorn holy shit get me back there nooowwwwww.)

Not sure what else to say about this storm. Here is a loose collection of thoughts.

  • Miami forced homeless into shelters against their will.
  • Everywhere else turned away anyone without proof of address.
  • A prison on Stock Island is now Noah’s Ark. Wildlife of all sizes have a place to ride out this historic storm.
  • Prisoners all over the state got transferred to higher ground. But my police department and most others said don’t call them if you are in danger and couldn’t evacuate (due to lack of money and/or lack of anyplace to go).
  • The cone shifted west thanks to Category-4 Jose to our east. PBC is fucking lucky.
  • Special thanks to Chris & Mandy in Jersey, Kelly & Sarah in NC and Laura in Baltimore for begging me to bring mom and Kadie to safety. And to my dear Trevor who, from New Orleans, got me an offer in Asheville. I am overwhelmed by their kindness. And if it weren’t such a clusterfuck to find gas, I might have chanced taking Stewie out of state.
  • The Turnpike and stations just off 95 got gas regularly, though. I heard the 7-11 at my 95 exit got shipments every morning at 7 am through yesterday. I fueled up there, ran some errands (sans A/C) and parked Stewie’s butt for the duration.
  • Tornadoes right now heading for Boca/Rey, as I call it. Or as I also call it, home. PSL got them last night, as did Laudy. Ft. Pierce is flooded. Construction cranes fell down in Miami. (Read: crashed into a high-rise. Because it takes two weeks to take down a crane and they “only” had one week to prepare.) We (PBC) ain’t seen nothing yet.

I think that’s all for now. Gotta keep things charged up. Maybe grab a nap. At least I can barely hear the fuckheads upstairs with the current 55 mph winds.

See you on the flipside. Here’s to hoping there is one …



‘If this is it …’

September 8th, 2017, 6:42 PM by Goddess

I’m wondering whether my life has been reduced to a Huey Lewis and the News song lyric.

Hurricane Irma was supposed to be a Category 3 hurricane by the time it came to my hood. Then it was 5. Then 4. Now it’s back up to 5.

God doesn’t like Mar-a-Lago. Or any other Trump properties, judging by the locations this storm has hit. But why take us good-hearted Hillary voters out with his gaudy decor that the government will probably pay to restore?

Maybe he’ll come out and sell his shitty $40 hats like he did to Hurricane Harvey victims …

I don’t feel like we’ll be all right. That’s probably from Mom the Psychic saying “we’re done for” every hour.

We had a great week in Orlando. I drove us back a day early (last night) though. The hotel couldn’t extend our stay. And every other hotel that had rooms faced water slides and volcanoes and other bizarre shit. Besides, yesterday Irma was projected to whack Orlando directly.

In any event, I was just about the only car driving south as the whole state heads north to Georgia and the Carolinas and beyond. So I’m either the smart one or the dumb one. Not real sure at this point.

We have a curfew starting at 3 p.m. tomorrow in my county. Wal-Mart closed at noon today. (I was there before 7 a.m.) Publix closed at noon, as did my storage unit place. (Whose general manager’s name, I learned today, is Irma.)

There’s only gas to be found on the turnpike and the stations just off 95. You’re shit out of luck if you try anyplace else.

Got some pizza at my favorite joint tonight and a cheeseburger from McDonald’s for the cat.

It’s 7:30 p.m. now and it’s already a ghost town. Pretty sure Target is the last game in town, although the cashier at Mickey D’s said they will be open till curfew time tomorrow.

I have to say I’m impressed that just about everything else is closed. I did my preparing in Orlando. (As much as I could do without being able to buy plywood, metal shutters or a generator. Or ice. Gah my ice maker is broken and damn landlord won’t pay to fix it.)

Got a boatload of cat litter and all her favorite foods. Don’t have much hoomin food beyond lentil chips, chocolate animal crackers, wine and tea.

And the HOA has zero fucks to give about it all …

It’s Friday night and we expect this shit to hit Sunday morning through Monday at midnight. On the early side. FPL already warned us we WILL be without power, for perhaps weeks.

I worry because I’m on a middle floor. And also parked on the middle floor in our garage.

* Good: No flooding from the lake and bordering canal below. And not the top floor so no worries about my roof blowing off.

* Bad: It rains sideways in Florida. And 180 mph winds hitting a building that was constructed AFTER the last major hurricane to blow through. So, untested. And not sure the car won’t blow away or that I won’t get impaled with idiot neighbors’ unsecured furniture.

Anyway. More bad than good and I’m not done yet.

There aren’t a lot of positive scenarios in my mind out of this. I love my mom and kitty but I get stir-crazy. Also I see work piling up in my inbox (but I’m on vacation, as if THAT were a thing) and it’s making me nuts. I did try to secure my storage unit but I didn’t do a good job in the hour I had because I didn’t know it was closing. (Also, it’s 100 degrees here and there’s no a/c in that thing. Much like the state of my apartment come Sunday afternoon, no doubt.)

What if mom is right and we ARE done for? Have I done enough? Had enough fun? Seen enough of this world? I honestly would not have come back but she insisted we needed her “PAPERS.” If I’m going to die for that, I’ll cry.

She said we aren’t fighters. If this is the end, we won’t make it, she says. And I think I’ve had just enough togetherness (and working for a living. Hell, i finally got promoted. I can die happy, right?) to open the sliding glass door at peak wind velocity and throw myself into the overflowing swamp-cancer lake.

I always say an open door is an invitation. If this is it, indeed … why fight it?