Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Ghosts of boyfriends past.

(this little gem was left on my car years ago)

It's that time of the year again here in San Diego. You know, when the bathing suits come on and the relationships go off... This is a college/military town. Everyone is constantly surrounded by hot, young bodies. So it's only natural for minds to wander when these hot, young bodies become less clothed.

So, after a rocky-yet-wonderful three years, I find myself single again. Only this time, it's different. I've grown up. Yes, of course I miss him. Yes, of course I still cry a little - it really hasn't been that long since we called it quits. But inside I know that together, where he is in his life right now, we couldn't be happy. I couldn't be happy.

I still don't have complete closure. I still have to pick up a few important things and return a few important things. We're still friends on facebook although I've selected the "hide" button when it comes to his updates. It's hard to see him try and replace me with lesser versions of myself. One of them even shared my name. That had to have been weird. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about realization and empowerment. It's about learning from your mistakes and bettering life. So i'll start from the beginning.


1. Be honest with your parents. They're going to find out sooner or later - and honestly, seeing as they've most likely grown up in the 60's and 70's - they've probably done much, much worse.

2. Never, ever turn a person into your everything friend. Yeah, I know, they're great. But I'm pretty sure the saying goes: "don't put all your eggs in one basket." That saying has been around for ever. Trust me, old people know everything.

3. It's ok to have the same friends. But make sure you both have your own friends too, because if and when shit hits the fan, you'll need back up that doesn't have to think twice about who they're going to back up.

4. Doing everything with just one "special" person is lame. It's comfortable. It might feel fun. It might feel right. But it's not. It's boring.

5. Talking your dad up to sound scarier and meaner is a good thing.

6. Don't fall into a routine, but if you have to, spice it up every once and a while. It keeps life interesting.

7. Hobbies are important. They make solitude manageable for those that detest it and even more wonderful for those that enjoy it.

8. Competition should never be anything more than friendly.

9. People get comfortable with handouts. That means they don't appreciate it anymore and they've come to expect it.

10. Never become a sugar-daddy or sugar-momma under the age of 35 because you're working just as hard as they are.

11. Your place is never, ever too far to be picked up from if you're good friends and your car isn't working.

12. An able-bodied person does not "NEED" marijuana to deal with basic life. When my dad "needed" alcohol to deal with it, my mother left him.

13. You deserve to be spoiled now and again because you deserve it.

14. Nobody can love a person who kisses their ass.

15. Never do something just because somebody else wants you to. Do it because you want to.

16. Don't be too available. It makes you seem more interesting and it forces you to be more independent and live your life.

17. If someone doesn't respect perfect strangers they probably don't respect you.

18. Never put someone on a pedestal. Everyone has flaws and from that high up they can only let you down.

19. If you don't live together, don't get a pet together. That's just basic common sense.

20. If someone is abusive to you once - be it physically, verbally, or mentally - they can be abusive to you again.

That's it for now. But because it was so much fun to write, I'm sure I'll write a sequel. I had a long day of surfing and hiking so I'm hitting the hay. Miss you all and I love all of your blog posts, comments, and emails. G'nite.

Monday, June 28, 2010

I have way too many hobbies.

Let's see. Since I've last posted anything on this blog, I've left my not so great relationship, taken up the ukulele, started playing electric guitar with an old flame, become a bartender and a kayaking tour guide in the beautiful La Jolla of San Diego, bought a pretty decent Nikon with the intention of taking up photography and making my memories more beautiful, started surfing again, and met a whole lot of new people.

I'm going to go into more depth soon. I just haven't had the time to update this blog. I miss all my bloggers. I've been keeping up with all of your posts and I'm glad you're doing well. It's just that without an office job, I find it difficult to sit in one place long enough to write about me without wanting to pick up an instrument, learn a language, or enjoy the world some how.

P.S. I'm only going to use my own photos now :o) Unless I'm going to show off someone else's work.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

New Love

I was recently enjoying dinner out with the family when a certain musician caught my eye.

Her name is Nena Anderson, and besides her amazing solos, she has two very talented bands: Brawley and the Neverout.

After a few minutes of cyber stalking this talented and cute artist, I realized we worked together at a popular 50s diner in San Diego. She's actually the reason I was hired.

Just fresh out of high school, I had walked into what was then my absolute most favorite restaurant EVER, with a manilla folder containing my resume and my best friend by my side. We were seated at our table and a cute brunette waitress skipped over, throwing straws at us and introduced her persona. (We all had personas at that restaurant, complete with goofy names from the 50's or 60's to go with our poodle skirts, bowling shirts, and ridiculous wigs.) For some reason she liked my nerdy-nervous-overpreparedness and grabbed the manager as soon as she saw an application on the table. And that's pretty much how I got my first job in the restaurant business. And the rest is history.

Imagine my shock right now. I've been listening to her music all evening and my family found it difficult to leave the restaurant while she was playing because it was so haunting.

Destiny? I don't know. But I'm dragging my friends to see her at the next bar she's playing at on the 15th :o) Brawley will be playing and I can't wait to get my swing on.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010


Normally, every second of my day is filled up with some kind of job or school or extracurricular activity. So, it's only natural that I feel a little... lost and restless at the moment since I am currently jobless, in between school, and snowed in for days in Mammoth Mountain Ski Resort. Not that I'm complaining about the accommodations.... Huge condo tucked in the side of a Mammoth Mountain ski trail.... three bathrooms.... gorgeous rustic/modern feel (I know it's almost impossible to picture that, but I'll post a few pics on here later to give you an idea of it's awesomeness).... large communal hot top with a seating capacity of EIGHTEEN. Yeah, definitely not slumming it by any means.

Snowboarding has still been absolutely epic. But the 70-90 mph winds at the top of the mountain has kept quite a few of my favorite lifts closed and me stuck on our side of the slopes. So during the 24 hour day I get about 4 hours of snowboarding in, which is all the weather, my eyes, and sore muscles will permit. That leaves me with a lot of extra leisure time. So far I've watched Zombieland, Terminator Salvation, The Matrix, New Moon, and Whip It.

And I just want to say how awesome it was to see Landon Pigg in that movie, Whip It. His music is awesome to chill out to. And I'm pretty sure that statement was whole purpose of me pulling up CAUTION BLONDE THINKING and shooting out a new blog. I know most of you think "WHAT A SELL OUT!" when they see an artist become an actor or visa versa, but I really think it's cool. Yep.

I need to get out of this cabin.

I quit

Wow it feels good. Never again will I be forced to squeeze into coarse panty hose and tight little shorts. I haven't worn a push-up bra in a week and I don't plan to any time in the near future. Absolutely never again will I sit silently while management and Hooters girls judge and criticize hopeful applicants.

"OMG," whined the frumpy hostess, "the manager keeps hiring the ugliest girls!"
"Really?" replied the other girl in the break room.
"Yeah, and he hired a FAT girl yesterday."
"WHAT?? Are you serious?"
"Yeah, well I mean, she's not fat but, for a Hooters girl she's ENORMOUS."

Disgusting right?

How about this:
"Hey (name of manager)!"
The manager pauses for a second and without returning the salutation she replies with "You look awkward today."
The mortified Hooters girl ran, horrified, into the break room and spent half of her shift fussing over any 'imperfection' she may have had. She's gorgeous. And that was wrong.

My favorite hostess recently quit, in tears, because management felt she wasn't physically living up to the "Hooters Girl Image." I and the rest of the girls have no idea where this insult came from. This girl was a pageant winner; gorgeous inside and out.

Our location was the training point for Southern California. At least for most of the restaurants nearby. And we were something somewhere around the 4th largest grossing location in the world. Hopefully that paints a picture of how insane it can get during event nights. I always felt sorry for the new 'trainee' managers. Usually staying in a hotel or with friends if they're lucky enough, these managers in training have no allies nearby. Working 12 hour shifts to receive the same amount as the salary-paid managers, they are pushed to edge of their sanity. I seemed to always be there when the trainees had their mini break downs. Management and girls would talk down to them, criticize or humiliate them publicly, and use their naiveté to their advantage. I asked every one of them how their store ran and each replied solemnly with the same answer: "Not like this."

Hooters was in no way a terrible place to work. But everybody is human and everybody makes mistakes. 90% of the girls were awesome to work with, but there were that 10% that made me wonder who had so horribly screwed them over in their past/present that made them decide to take out their frustrations on anybody within a ten foot radius of them.

It was a good run. I saw a lot of good and bad come and go. I'm glad I was given the opportunity to be a world famous Hooters girl for fifteen months. The money was good, but waitressing really isn't for me. And neither was the constant blending of waitress/entertainer. I think it was the new uniform tops that really helped me finalize this decision. I always try and ask myself, "what would my parents/little sisters/bf think?" For the most part, they thought it was hilarious. But I knew I could never face them baring my chest, ass, AND midriff. And I didn't even want to think about the extra unwanted attention I would be receiving.

Most of all, Hooters gave me confidence. People called me beautiful. Management complimented my hair and attitude. The other girls made me feel smart. It was wonderful when things were good. But it's time for me to grow up now. I gained what I needed and I did the best that I could. Next week, after I get home from Mammoth Mountain Ski Resort, I begin my job hunt at my local hospitals as a Certified Nurse Assistant. It's not the most glamorous job by any means, but it comes with dignity and the hands on experience needed for Nursing school that starts this fall. :o)

I will never forget you Hooters.

love forever,

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

A Letter To My Dead Girlfriend

It has been a rough year darling. The ethereal power of Craig's List will get this message to you I am sure, like in some sort of cheesy 80s movie.

Well back to the last year, you of course died at the beginning of it which put things to a sour start. I spent last night with your mum and dad, we went to that Italian place in Wicker Park, who on the surface seem to be coping. I had everyone get together for my 25th which went well, your ladies are on top form and I think some engagements are brewing. Ellen is turning up the heat on Steve who will soon be forced down to one knee as you predicted.

Last weekend I finally took the step of cleaning out your clothes from the closet, which is very barren now. I invited your friends over to take your what they liked, it was an awkward session. I think they took them more as a favor to me than anything else. Liz cried when we pulled out all of your shoes, Miranda joined in and then Catherine broke down. It was strange to stand in our bedroom surrounded by three crying girls. I made a joke about them crying for joy at the prospect of some free Manolo Balhniks which they didn't seem to find very funny.

A few girls have put the moves on and as you know picking up women is not a forte of mine. It seems the grieving boyfriend seems to be a good angle. Who knew! I went on one date and spent it talking about you, the poor girl. You would have found it quite witty I think. No other dates to report, I am going against your orders to move on for now.

I found one of those hair tie things that somehow managed to squeeze into every crevice in the apartment. It was under the bed. I sat on the floor holding it and cried. Until then I had held everything together but it just all came flooding out.

Every morning when I wake up I forget for a fraction of a second that you are gone and I reach for you. All I ever find is the cold side of the bed. My eyes settle on the picture of us in Paris, on the bedside table, and I am overjoyed that even though the time was brief I loved you and you loved me.



Wednesday, February 10, 2010

El cochino

The teenager exits the pool finally, when she realizes the heat of the day is gone and a soft breeze floats in from the mediterranean. It feels good against her wet skin. The solitude feels good. It's twilight now and everything is so still. The harsh daylight is replaces by a gentler glow of a full moon, changing the white washed plaster walls to a cool blue. She walks, lazily from the pool steps to the open shower and turns it on, letting a spray of fresh water hit her shoulders and flow down through her hair. Her hand rests on the handle while she hesitates and let's the day wash away from her sun-kissed skin. Even with the water rushing over her ears, the surf is still audible, relaxing. She stretches down and slowly rubs the sand from her feet. Somewhere she hears a bird call. Strange for sundown, she thinks, slightly started from her trance.

"Brittany!" Her mother calls from the doorway. "Get in here please!" She steps out and towards her daughter, wrapping her in a fresh towel. As they walk back through the garden, she shoots a warning glance at the large man next door, and he smiles and continues his phone conversation in relaxed spanish, slipping the video camera back into his pocket.

Undercover Boss


Tuesday, February 9, 2010


I forgot my pouch in my car. You know, the "pouch." It's that brown thing (or black if it's friday) we tie around our waist to hide our camel-toe.

Because I was one of the three opening girls on this rainy monday, I was allowed to go back out to my car to get it, as opposed to buying a new one.

After my 5 minute sprint, I came back only slightly damp and out of breath.

"Like, how are you NOT cold? It's freezing in here." Complained the blonde while we sat at jumpstart, pulling her sweater even tighter around her bronzed shoulders.
"I just spent the last five minutes running." I replied, assuming that statement would be enough.
"So." She accused.
"So I was wearing sweats and a sweater. And NOW I'm wearing panty hose and lycra."
"You know, like when you go to the gym and it's cold out, but when you leave it doesn't feel cold anymore..."
"It's like that."
"Wait, running makes you not cold?"
It's good to be back.

Friday, February 5, 2010


Let's see, since we've last spoken...

I've purchased my very own taylor guitar, co-picked out by Mr. Bob Taylor himself. (Happy Dance.)

I was rescued from a bunch of weirdos by a member of a band I hear on the radio regularly at a high profile show in my home town. Although, upon googling him, I discovered he had dated a "singer" I don't particularly respect who had her own show for a while, he was actually quite the gentleman, letting me hang out with the rest of his band in their tour bus and getting me back to my best friend, unscathed, in the restricted zone. Pretty cool evening. He still regularly texts me.

I've been brushing up on my French, Spanish, and Japanese for my Eurotrip that's coming up in June. Well, the Japanese is just for fun.

I sprained my wrist going off a "sweet jump" on the slopes and was unable to wait tables for nearly three weeks.

I completely re-vamped my bedroom. Before and after pictures will be going up soon.

And I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I've begun my nursing classes. Well, my real nursing school begins this September, but in order to obtain my 6 months of hands on work I'm taking a 2 month, expedited course that will allow me to work as a certified nurses assistant (yuck) and only need 4 more months of actual paid hands on work before September. Nursing school is 'hella' expensive (I would never actually say that out loud, but it's the actual wording that came to my head... and that's what i get for chillin' with the nor cal girls at work.) so I'm going to have to work my butt off to foot the 50K tuition. But hey... you're looking at an RN in less than two years. So I'll do anything to get closer of my adult/realistic dream of being a traveling nurse and eventually a nurse practitioner.

Yep. That's the past couple of months in a nutshell :o)
I miss my Hooters Girl Bloggers.