Noiiiiice

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,

brit

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.

Love,

P.