I Is a College Graduate!

Well, peeps…  The rumors are true. As of Saturday, May 19^th, 2012 I earned a B.A. in Screenwriting from Chapman University’s Dodge College of Film and Media Arts. I have to say, this last year of college has been an amazing one for me. I’ve developed some close friendships with some awesome people. I was lucky enough to end up with probably the best roommates ever. I’m sad to have moved out so soon, but I’ll be keeping in touch with them. I participated in my first and last Undie Run. I feel like I’ve grown and matured as a person and young woman. Now I’m working and saving as much money as I can for one big trip. Either a roadtrip, or a trip abroad. Maybe even both if I can swing it. I’m happy with my life, where it’s going, and the people in it. I’ll continue writing, and working my scripts. And once I’ve eased my travel bug, I’ll be settling into an entry level job in the industry. But before I get to my all my future plans, let me start with my Graduation experience.

It's hard to explain what's happening here...

It’s hard to believe that only 3 years ago, I was just finishing up my freshman year of college, and wondering how the hell I was going to pay to go to Chapman. The Me three years ago would’ve freaked the fuck out at the thought of graduating college. The sheer uncertainty of it all scared me and on some level still does, but not nearly as much as things like that used to.  In fact, I dealt with the scary reality of graduating from college like any other normal college kid: sheer denial.

The weeks, days, and hours preceding commencement I spent freakishly calm. When my family got into town and constantly asked me how I was feeling, I could honestly say, “Eh, okay, I guess.” The days before graduation seemed normal to me because I was too busy working and finishing up my scripts. For some reason it was not registering that I was about to experience such an important event in my life. I guess I just thought that if I didn’t think about it, it wasn’t real. And that scenario worked up until the very last second before I was about to walk across the stage.

And I have to say, the people I sat next to during Graduation were the best people to share that experience with. It was such a monumental time in our lives, and we all sat there just joking and freaking out together, sipping flavored vodka from a water bottle that someone had in their pocket under their gown; all on the same page, all excited and terrified at the same time. Look at me, going on like we served in a war together or something. I guess in a way we did. We experienced college together, shared the good and bad times. It’s been  surreal, and this is just the beginning.  

We badass...

Now, graduation day itself probably couldn’t have gone better. My family from both sides came down, and there were no fights between them. My best friends that I’ve known for over 10 years came down to watch me graduate, and I love them so much for coming out to support me. We went out to dinner after commencement, and had a great time. Then my family went back to their hotels to let us kids enjoy ourselves. That’s right, we boozed it up like most college grads that night. My two goals for that night were to get really drunk and not puke. Guess what? Mission accomplished! I spent that night drinking and talking with my best friends from home, and a few of my close friends from Chapman. It was a great night, and more pictures probably should’ve been taken. While I’ve managed to remain almost disgustingly calm and relaxed about this frightening new chapter in my life, some of my friends have unfortunately succumbed to the fear that comes with new uncertainties that come after college graduation.

I sympathize with my friends who feel like this. I expected to feel like this, but for some reason I’ve been able to remain calm. Maybe it’s because I know it’s all going to work out. I have the same fear of failure driving me, but at the same time, I know that life goes on, and there’s no use worrying about things when I’m doing everything I can to succeed. I’m actually excited about all the new things I can experience now that I’m not tied to school work all year. I want to travel, see new places before I settle down into a job. Well, I know I have to actually look for a job to settle into, because I too know the difficulties in finding a job, let alone one in the entertainment industry. I have tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of student loans looming over my head that go into payment in December. That scares the shit out of me most of all, but again, I’ll deal with that when I get to it.

 So I hope that my scared friends realize that we’re still all in the trenches together, but we can enjoy these supposed awful times as we work our ways to the top. I hope my terrified colleagues take some time to be young, experience new and fun things, and just relax before we all become successful industry people with no time to relax. Take some time to pamper yourselves. After all, we just completed our four year degrees. At times, it was easy as pie, but there were also those times where we thought we’d never be able to finish that paper or script in order to pass that class. So let’s celebrate! I believe we deserve at least this one last summer to live it up. So cheers to all my graduates of 2012! I love you all, and I hope you all have an amazing summer! 

Cue: Alice Cooper’s School’s Out.

Last Spring Semester... Ever...

Let the Meltdowns begin...

Wow, I’ve really got to stay on top of these blog posts. I’m in my 6^th week of my last spring semester ever… I meant to write this blog on the first week because it probably would’ve been more poignant but, eh, whatever. So let’s rewind back to that first week and I’ll tell you what was going on.

During my first week of spring semester, I had a little too much time on my hands. Class wasn’t in full swing yet, so I had too much free time to stop and think about all the scary stuff that comes with graduating. My mind would race and I’d think: where am I going to live? Will I get a job in my field? Will I get a regular, bullshit job that allows me to house, clothe, and feed myself? You know, the usual. So by day two I’d already had a meltdown.

Now, I knew it was coming, and I’d tried to combat the stressful meltdown by going to the gym. Running like a tired fatty really does help relieve stress. Why can’t I convince my body to get addicted to healthy things like that? Anyways, it didn’t work and I burst into pitiful tears while on the phone with my dad. He did his best to console me, which pretty much worked, but I just needed to cry this out. I figured that since I was so busy in January with my interterm class, I put off thinking about all the scary school stuff until my schedule was a little lighter and I had the time, unfortunately, to think about it. So as helpful as my father’s words were, my stress-o-meter was full and the only way to relieve a full tank like that is to just cry it out. I told him that I’d be fine and I got off the phone with him. 

About ten minutes later, my mom called me and asked me what was wrong. This only caused more tears from me as I tried to explain that I knew I was worrying about things that I didn’t exactly have control over right now, but that I needed to cry about them anyway. So I got off the phone with her, again, saying that I’d be fine., but I was really planning on crying a little bit more in peace in my room. I could tell that I was probably almost done, and I was glad to have some me-time for a second. I got about five more minutes of crying me-time when Megan, my best friend from back home, skype-called me.

We spent a couple minutes trying to get her computer microphone to work, but to no avail. Finally, she ended up calling me on her cell and leaving the skype video on. BAM! Skype call in progress. She started by saying, “So how ya doin?” Like an idiot, I tried to pretend I hadn’t just spent a good twenty minutes crying. I responded “oh, fine.” And she said “Liar.” That is why I love her… That made me laugh and I went into my worries and stuff and how I knew they were irrational seeing as the only thing I could do right now is finish school and take it from there. I don’t even remember what she said to me because I’m a horrible blogger and didn’t write about it as soon as it happened, but all I know is that she consoled me and we spent a good hour talking about other things that made us both laugh. The only reason we had to stop our conversation is because I had to go to my tutoring job.

I can’t even explain what it meant to have Meg call me like that and get me in a better mood. I don’t have any siblings, but she and I are as close as it gets without being blood related. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say we’re even closer than real sisters because we’re not blood related. We don’t have to put up with each other, and console one another, but we do. I think she even understood my situation better than my parents did because she has similar fears, as does everyone our age. Since she had a better idea of what was going on, she was able to get me out of my funk for the rest of the day. I went to my tutoring job after I hung up with Meg, and even those little crazy brats made me feel better. I had fun, and didn’t think about my own bullshit for awhile.

So now I’m almost halfway through the semester and I’m feeling much better. I’m still terrified, and excited at the same time, but I’m waaay more busy with scripts and school work, as I should be. As long as I’m working on things that will ensure my future success, there’s no reason for me to worry about the little things that I can’t control right now. I’ve been telling myself that everything will fall into place and work itself out because it usually does, and as a result I’ve been a much happier person. Even though I’m not technically a full time student, between my 2 on campus jobs, my internship, and the minimum of three scripts that I’m working on, I’m still just as busy as I was last semester—and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m still going to the gym to keep my stress at bay, and that too has had some positive effects on my attitude. I’m still excited and terrified of what these next couple of months will bring, but I’m mostly excited. And it comforts me to know that 95% of the people my age are worried about the same things. We’re all in it together, and we’re all going to be ok.

Again with the sappy post, but, hey, that’s the kinda gal I am. J

Happy Holidays and New Year Adventures

Here it is, my first blog of the New Year. I made it past my last fall semester of college! I ended up with a 3.8 GPA which is probably the highest my GPA has been since high school. Yes, I’m over here patting myself on the back. Maybe I should get to the real point of this post…

I don’t know about the rest of you, but January for me is usually pretty depressing. I’m not sure what it is. I love the feeling that Christmastime brings. Schoolwork is over, and I get to visit all my friends and family back home. Not to mention my son. That’s right. I’m the proud mother of a 6-year-old named Max. While I’m away at college, my parents share custody of him. I miss him terribly while I’m at school. Here’s a picture of him dressed as a Christmas jester.

He's so purdy!

But once again, I digress. The point is: I get very happy in December, and I guess January ends up feeling miserable because of all the hype of Christmastime and seems to end too abruptly for me. But I guess this year kind of came with a lot of firsts and lasts that’s made me a little more nostalgic than usual.

For instance, this was the first time I was able to drink at my family functions. It was also my first Christmas with the newest addition to our family. He’s my second cousin, and his name is Marcus. Incidentally, it was Marcus’ first Christmas ever, and he too dipped into the alcohol… he was teething, so we rubbed some Jack Daniels on his gums.

Here we are both a lil tipsy.

This was also the first Christmas my grandma on my mom's side spent with us in about five years. She's become sort of a recluse these past few years, and I'm not sure why. Christmas Day we went to her house. It was a small function: just me, my mom, grandma, my uncle and his wife and son. The food was delicious-- she makes the best spaghetti! The family got along pretty well too, until my 4 year old cousin got mad and didn't want to show me his Nintendo 3DS because he thought I was going to steal it... Really, kid? I don't want your DS. I have a car!

Unfortunately, this was the last Christmas that I’d come home on a break from school for two weeks. Not too traumatic, but strange to think about. Even worse, it was also probably the last Christmas we’d be spending at my grandparents’ house. That place is very close to my heart because they’ve lived there longer than I’ve been alive and it’s the only permanent home I’ve ever known. They’re trying to sell it because they’re getting older and need to move closer to town so they can get around easier. But at least we had a great time as a family on Christmas Eve. The only thing I missed is that we didn’t get to build a fire in our fireplace while I was home. Mostly because it wasn’t really cold enough to build a fire. Which is strange because it’s winter! Where the hell is winter?

After Christmas, I was ready to ring in the New Year, but I got sick the whole last week of break. By New Years Eve I didn’t have a voice. So I didn’t speak all day and drank plenty of water so I’d be able to party that night. It worked and by 9pm I was at my best friend Megan’s house ready to drink, which I did plenty of. I also danced—a lot. So much that I was sore the next day just from getting my dance on. Ahh, good times. Even though we didn’t go out, it ended up being one of the best new years of my life. Here’s a sample of that night.

Why did she need a helmet? You don't even want to know...

Me and Meg also recorded a video on my phone that night. I found it on my phone two days later, and I only vaugely remember saying half the things I said on that video. That's a sign it was a good night :)

Also with the New Year is the fact that I’m about to start a new chapter in my life. I’m graduating this May and will be starting my career in the entertainment industry as I attempt to be a TV writer. I’ll be moving from Orange to LA. I’m in the midst of independently producing a feature film that I wrote last year (still in rewrites).  A couple of my friends that I met at my internship want to help me produce it in hopes that it can be a calling card for all of our careers. I also want to travel to Italy after I graduate, among other places. That excites me the most. Basically, I’m looking forward to doing new and exciting things instead of being a student for once. I’ll be a student of life! (Cheesy, but true). I’m looking forward to this new chapter in my life, and I want to seize every opportunity that I can.

It’s kind of strange that I feel this way. Four years ago when I was a senior in high school I was stressed out and terrified because I didn’t know where I would be in a year. I knew I’d be in college, but I just didn’t know where. I guess I had/have issues with change, but I realize this and now try to embrace change. This year, as a senior in college I really don’t know where I’ll be in a year. I won’t be a student, but God-willing I’ll have a job in my career field. But I’m not as terrified as I was back then. I’m more excited than terrified, and it’s actually comforting to know that I’ve grown so much in the past four years. I guess I know deep down that I’m going to be ok and everything will work itself out. It’s also comforting knowing that I’ll have the support of my friends and family the entire time.

I hope everyone’s holidays have been as fun and reflective as mine were. Sorry to get all sentimental on ya, but that’s what the New Year is about—reflection. So, until next time…

Peace, kids!

It Was My (21st) Party and I Cried Because I Wanted To...

I turned 21 on September 17^th this year and it was pretty magical to say the least. I had grandiose plans of going to Vegas, but you know that green paper stuff that you trade for goods like gas and food and stuff? Well, I was running low on that. No biggie, I’ve been to Vegas a handful of times and it’s not that magical anymore. But I still wonder what it looks like through drunk eyes…  

Instead I decided to make the trip back home for my birthday. I was completely happy to have a nice dinner with my parents where I would legally order an alcoholic beverage for the first time, followed by a night of bar hopping with a few of my close friends.

The dinner was excellent. Tahoe Joe’s. I got a steak and some kind of Peachy martini thing. It was pretty good. And my mom got me a cupcake birthday cake in the shape of the Little Mermaid (my favorite Disney movie as a kid).

So awesome!

The bar hopping was more like bar plopping. We got to one bar and we stayed there for the rest of the night. It was just me and 4 of the best friends I’ve ever had (Megan, Brittany, April, and Dominic). I was wearing a 21^st birthday tiara courtesy of April, so I didn’t have to pay for any drinks. By the way, Long Island Ice Teas are the best and they fuck you up pretty quickly. So does a shot of patron, which was seriously the smoothest tequila I’ve ever tasted. No wonder rappers like it so much.

Britt, Me, April, & Meg

On the car ride home, I piled in the back of Britt’s car with April, Meg, and Dom. I was suuuuper drunk by this point, as were we all, and things got a little emotional for me. My friends proceeded to tell me how proud they were of me for chasing my dream, and being so independent, etc. I don’t remember what I said out loud, but I remember thinking, “Well… I’m gonna have to have a good cry when we get back to Meg’s." So that’s what I did.

I got back to Meg’s, changed into my pjs, told Ashole that I needed 5 minutes on the back porch by myself. Then and only then could Megan come check on me. So I went outside with a cup of water and just bawled my eyes out. I wasn’t sad. Nothing dramatic happened that made me sad. I just had a lot on my mind (see previous posts to get an idea.) On top of the family concerns in my life, I was thinking about how this is my last year in college, and all the other scary thoughts that go along with being an adult. Sometimes you just need a good cry.

It didn’t look like the waterworks were going to stop anytime soon, so my friends said goodbye and everyone got home safe thanks to Britt and Bruce (thanks for driving us Bruseph! And thanks, Britt, for providing the car aka Oprah). I stayed at Meg’s and she kind of listened to me talk/cry/slobber all over her couch. Even in a drunk-ass state, Meg really knows the heartfelt things I need to hear to make me feel better.

All in all, I’d say it was a successful 21^st birthday. I was surrounded by some of the most important people in my life and that’s really all I could ask for. Crying sucks, but that’s just the way things work sometimes. The next time I go drinking I’ll remember to cry before I get really drunk.   

**Side note: Ashole is only 19, so she couldn’t go to the bar with us.  :/

What? My Grandparents Aren't Old!

Sorry I've been out of the loop for awhile. That's assuming that you all noticed and/or cared. My lack of posting  wasn't due to my laziness this time. I've been super busy with family problems, which is rare for me. I have a small family and nothing new is usually happening, but for the first time in my life my family is having serious issues. Both of my grandparents (the married couple) had to have major surgery. And not just any surgery: Brain surgery. Both of them. For completely different reasons. Needless to say, it's been tough on my small family circle which on my dad's side consists of me, dad, aunt, cousin, and grandma and grandpa.

It started on July 27th. I was in Santa Cruz visiting some old friends, and having a grand 'ol time when my dad called me and said that my grandpa had fallen, hit his head, and couldn't really get up on his own, but he was still concious and they had called the ambulance just in case. I figured he'd be fine because he's grandpa. Sure, he'll be 80 in February, but he's not feeble. He's tough! It's not like he's some old person or something... So I went back to having a good time with my friends.

Good wine=Good conversations

Don't worry, we weren't drunken fools!

At about 2am that same night my dad sent me a text that said, "Just found out gpa has to have brain surgery early in the morning. Will keep you updated."......WTF! I couldn't believe it. I called my dad to ask what the hell was going on.

Apparently my grandpa had fallen and hit his head somewhere around 6 months ago and didn't tell anyone. That fall caused a bleed in his brain that, over a period of 6 months, worsened as his brain continued to swell. Subdural Hematoma is what they called it. I obviously decided to cut my trip short and head home.

So they raced him into emergency surgery, and while he was going in, he had a seizure. They fixed the bleed (which had caused the seizure), but for two weeks he wasn't really aware of what was going on. He was in intense pain because his head had been cut open, and he was strapped down to the hospital bed because in his dazed condition he was trying to pull out all the tubes in his body. And he had a pretty important drain in his head that needed to be kept in place. He progressed after the surgery, but by day 2 they discovered an air pocket in his brain from when they pulled the  drain out. This caused him to regress. When his eyes were open he didn't recognize anyone. It was right about this time when my grandma hit her breaking point.

You see, we already had her to worry about before my grandpa got sick. About a month previous, her doctor had found a "mass" in her brain. It was about the size of a golfball, and it was still up in the air whether or not it was going to be removed because they needed to find out if it was cancer. My grandma went to a surgeon in Fresno who she seemed to trust to do the surgery, but she didn't want to have the surgery in Fresno because she'd have to go to Fresno Community, which is the trauma center of the Central Valley. They have the best doctors there that specialize in neurosurgery. My grandma, however, wanted a second opinion from someone at UCSF. So that's where we went.

I had to take my grandma to UCSF by myself because I was the only one with the day off. I was completely happy to do it because she's my grandma and I love her, but I'll be honest-- It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. My grandma is like a second mother to me. We're very close and she does whatever she can to help me out in school and every other aspect of life. But for the first time in my life, the tables seemed to be turned. Suddenly I found myself having to comfort her because she was in tears constantly. She was worried about herself and her husband of 56 years. The stress had really gotten to her, and I had to try and stay strong and comfort her. Like I said, the hardest thing I've ever done. How could I stay strong for her when she has always been my rock? I was also worried about her and grandpa's wellbeing because I couldn't stand the thought of living without them just yet. I mean, for Chrissake my grandparents aren't old!

At UCSF the doctor said the "mass" should be removed immediately. Grandma couldn't contain her tears, and neither could I. It's rough seeing your parents/grandparents cry. When the adults cry... shit is seriously wrong. They're usually the ones telling you that everything is going to be ok when you think all hope is lost, so their tears mean the end of the world, right?

So we had both grandparents in the hospital with brain surgeries to be had, one in Fresno, and one in San Francisco. Hearing the risks of a serious surgery like that was no fun either, by the way. Grandpa was finally awake and recognizing people. When I asked him if he knew my name he said, "It's Nicole. What do you think, I forgot?" I honstly expected him to call me Debbie (my aunt's name) because he would sometimes accidentally call me that before the brain injury.

My grandma came through her surgery fine, and just last week we learned that the mass was NOT cancer: some small miracle. Which makes me wonder: How did her brain even have room to grow that mass?

Grandpa is back at home after he literally tried to break out of the hospital. I saw him when he got to the rehab floor and they had this mesh cage over his hospital bed so he couldn't escape. It was sad/hilarious. He wanted my dad to smuggle him in a pocket knife, or get to a lawyer to get him a Writ of Habeus Corpus, whichever was faster... Yeah, he remembered what that was.

My grandma is on the mend and my grandpa needs 24/7 care for awhile so he doesn't walk outside by himself and fall again. Getting in home care is difficult because they don't qualify for free care, but they can't afford pay for it themselves. My dad and aunt, and best friend Megan are taking turns watching him and helping my grandma out while I finish out school. The brain injury has caused my grandpa to be very moody, and mean at times. He says hurtful things to family members that he doesn't really mean or remember. And there's really no telling if/when/and how long it's going to take for him to go back to normal.

It's been a strange time for me because it's like all of a sudden, overnight, they became old people. At 80 and 74, their age has finally caught up with them and it's heartbreaking. I only wish I could do more for them.

I also want to take this time to thank all my friends (and of course family) who saw that I was going through a rough time and offered me their condolences and constant support. Meg, I can't thank you enough for not only helping my family out but actually wanting to  help us out. I can't get rid of you now, you know waaay too many family secrets ;) I love you girl!To date, this is the hardest thing I've had to go through and it's made me realize who my true friends are. I love you guys and I can only hope I can return the favor when any of you are having a rough time.

My grandparents, my dad, and aunt in their early years.

Oh, Shit... The Brakes Don't Work...

“Oh, shit… the brakes don’t work…” that was the thought running through my mind while I was flying northbound, downhill on the I-5 back into the Central Valley yesterday. I looked at my dashboard and noticed that my car’s engine had turned off while I was driving! The dash lights told me that my car was in that limbo-land that allows you to hear the radio but not actually drive the car. As I picked up speed toward what was potentially my impending demise, I put on my hazards, started pumping the brakes, and began moving over to the right side of the freeway. My death hadn’t even crossed my mind. What I was more concerned about, was how I was going to afford to fix whatever the fuck was wrong with my car now! I can’t say I’m surprised that my day was turning out to be like that because the way it started was no peach either.

It all started Tuesday night when my friend, Tony, texted me and said his roommate’s room was up for grabs starting in August. I, of course, jumped at this opportunity because the room is over $100 cheaper than I was paying last year to rent a room from a crazy-ass cat lady. So I talked to his roommate, David, that night after I got off of work, and it was decided that Wednesday was the best day for me to come down and look at the room. That meant that I had to make an emergency trip down to Orange in less than 8 hours. Not pleased, but relieved to have a chance at a better place to live.

I had the beginnings of a sore throat Tuesday, which turned into a dry, scratchy throat that night, only to wake up Wednesday morning from less than 6 hours sleep and with a full blown sore throat. Super pissed! Still, I hit the road at about 8:30am with a 3 ½ to 4 hour drive to Orange ahead of me.

The drive was ok, if not boring, since I was by myself. I listened to Pandora on my new Android—I’ve recently become a fan of Dub-step (thanks Bruseph)—and I arrived at the apartment at about 12:30pm. I liked everything I saw and by 12:45pm I was down at the rental office filling out a credit check/application.

The credit check got me concerned because 1) It didn’t dawn on me that I’d have to pay $30 for the credit check and 2) If I needed a cosigner for this place, I’d be kinda screwed. I have better credit than either of my parents, and I really didn’t want to have to ask my grandma to take a risk like that (even though I know I’m good for it). Regardless of my fears, I turned in the application and was told the results would be ready by 2pm. With an hour to kill I decided to get some gas, food, and a 5 hour energy drink because I was exhausted and still had to drive back home to Fresno.

Thankfully, by 1:15 the woman from the rental office had called me and said that I had passed the credit check and could sign the lease all on my own, without a cosigner!

Now, let’s talk about the 5 hour energy drink for a minute, shall we? I had never tried one before, but I’d heard they work great. I don’t generally like the taste of energy drinks and I don’t drink sugary beverages, but the 5 hour is sugarless and the new flavor is grape- my favorite! I read the tiny bottle and it basically said don’t drink more than 2 a day because you’ll probably die, blah, blah, blah… So I downed it, and it didn’t taste too bad toward the end. I felt kind of like Lucy in the Vita-meat-a-veg-a-min episode.

By the time I’d reached the rental office 2 minutes later I was feeling a little weird. Kinda shaky, and yet on top of the world because I was signing my first lease ever, all by myself, with the good credit I’d worked so hard to build! It was a major “I’m a big girl” moment. My immediate thoughts were “I’m pretty sure this is what crack feels like.” I know some people who’ve done it and they say that you get super awake and you feel like you can do anything. The logical conclusion for me (and some other people I know) was that 5hour energy=crack! 

So I sat there in the office kinda drunk/happy while the lady went over the lease with me. I initialed all over that lease, wrote some checks like a boss, and walked out of there feeling relieved, happy, and wired, to say the least.

The drive home seemed longer than usual, probably because my throat was still sore and I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. I mark the end of the grapevine as the final stretch of my trips to and from Orange, and was relieved to be coming up on that checkmark. Usually, on the downward steep, I take cruise control off, and throw my car into neutral in an attempt to save gas. I don’t know if it actually works or not… This time, I think I forgot to turn the cruise control off first and just threw it into neutral. As soon as I did that, the engine cut out and I found myself gliding down the hill at 80+mph with no brakes and no power steering.

Surprisingly, I didn’t panic. Well, I didn’t panic because I thought I was going to die or crash. I coasted down the mountain while pumping the brakes; afraid I was going to be stranded on the 5 still 2 hours from home. I panicked at the knowledge that car repairs are expensive, and I almost never have a substantial amount of savings to cover a car repair. I panicked… because I knew I’d have to call my dad and tell him that the car he still isn’t finished paying for needed to be fixed…again…



**Side note**

Fuckin’ Fords…

**End Side note**

As I glided to a stop along the side of the highway at the end of the ridge, I put the car in park, turned the key to the off position, and then turned it back on. It started perfectly. I was still shaking—this time from anxiety, not the energy drink—but I was so very relieved! I think the glitch may have had something to do with not turning off the cruise control when I put it in neutral. But it was fine the rest of the way home, thank God!

I’m kind of a spiritual person, by the way. I believe in fate or God’s plan or whatever you choose to call it, so what do I think saved my car that day? I think it was the cross that my Grandma had blessed that hangs from my rearview mirror. That blessed cross saved me and my car, and you can’t convince me otherwise. Besides, there’s no proof that it wasn’t the cross that saved my life. HA!

Basque-ing In All the Glory

It's that time again: Time for another tale from your favorite preppy white guy... which is hopefully me and that's why you're here reading this blog.

My situation recently has been that I've had to move back home to Fresno for the summer. If  you've never lived or been to Fresno, CONGRATULATIONS! If you happen to live in Fresno... kudos for making it work for you. I joke, but it's only been since I moved out of Fresno that I've learned to appreciate its prime location (it's basically 3 hours from all the important stuff in CA), and the importance of its agriculture. Prime example: My grandma Abate's homemade peach pie made from our homegrown peaches. If  we didn't live in Fresno, we wouldn't be able to grow the deliciously juicy peaches that make her mouth-watering pie. It's literally better than any store-bought pie you'll ever eat...in your life! I wish I had a picture of it. Instead, I have a picture of our nectarine tree because our peaches aren't ripe yet.

Ignore my finger in the shot...

Anyhoo... in order to save money for rent and other expenses for next school year, I was on the hunt for a job a couple months before I even got home. It's hard to get even a minimum wage job these days, but it's especially hard to get one in Fresno. Unemployment is at an all time high, and that was a depressing fact to face. But luckily God decided to smile upon my poor unemployed but easily trainable soul and I got me a job as a waitress at the Basque Hotel & Restaurant!!! Here's how it happened:

My mother went into the restaurant and asked the bartender if she was still hiring because she didn't want her daughter (me) "lazing around the house all summer." ........ Need I say more? She also let the bartender/owner know that I was only going to be in town for the summer. Now let's go back to the part about how it's insanely difficult to get a job in Fresno. What do you think happens to those odds when your potential employer thinks you're lazy and knows you're only going to be there temporarily? Usually they won't even bother hiring you if they know you're going to cut out of there in 3 months. And she even forgot to tell the lady that I had food service experience because she forgot that I worked at Jamba Juice for 6 months! But despite my mother's lack of the ability to sell my good qualities to my potential employer, I GOT THE JOB! The lady hired me with no experience as a waitress, knowing that I'd only be there temporarily, and with the impression that I was some lazy ass kid. Needless to say, I believe in miracles.

 Here's a picture of the sign outside.

Of course, I was a little nervous about working here for the first time since I'd never been a waitress before, but I was a pretty fast learner. And by the way, there's nothing particularly "Basque-y" about Basque food. It's all pretty normal stuff. You get bread, soup, salad, potato salad, beef stew, beans, the option of a meat (from fried chicken to prime rib), and dessert all for about $12-$20 depending on your main entree. On weekdays they have the "exotic" meats like beef tongue, lamb testicles, and fried pigs feet. I've tried all of these because I'll try pretty much any food once, and to be honest, the tongue bothered me the most. I had to focus really hard on not picturing a cow's tongue in my mouth, but if I didn't know beforehand what it was it wouldn't have been a problem.

So it's been here that I've discovered the wonders of waitressing. It's a pretty small venue, so only me and one other girl work together to make the tips worthwhile, and boy are they worthwhile! The tips are THE best part of waitressing. I usually make more in tips each night than I do at my hourly wage. Plus, the clientele there is pretty much just old people. More specifically: old men. And they usually have a drink at the bar before I serve them, wine during dinner, and another drink to top it off before they leave. All this makes for a loose hand when it comes to tipping the pretty, young, white, blonde girl that served them at dinner. That's right, at this place I'm considered pretty, young, white (duh!), and blonde! Never before now have I felt like the prettiest girl in the room, and I'll tell you what, every girl (or boy) deserves to feel like that at some point in their lives. It does wonders for the ego.

My spanish is also getting better because the guys that work in the kitchen don't speak english. About the only thing I can say to them conversationally is "Como estas" and "Bien, y tu?" But they call me senorita bonita, so we get along pretty well. Juan knows the most english, so he's attempting to teach me something new each day I work.

Jackie is my friend and co-worker who started dishing the details of her life with me on my very first day. She trained me and helps me out whenever I need it, and always listens to my problems while giving me genuine advice.

Cathy is the boss's daughter who works with me occassionally. She tells it like it is and has inspired me to be a more assertive person.

Margaret is co-owner with her husband Fermin. She's the bartender that doesn't take any bullshit, and her husband is always trying to get me to drink the house wine while I'm working a shift. I have accepted his offer only once :)

So as you can see, my summer experience has pretty much been a series of Cheers episodes.

It's not peachy all the time, though. I get the ocassional bad tipper. And even the occasional no-tipper-at-all, but for the most part I've had some pretty good conversations with the regulars, and some especially good conversations with the drunks. I'm also happy to report that I've yet to get pinched on the ass, and I've only accidentally broken 2 glasses so far.

Not to mention, I've built up my savings account pretty nicely... That is until I got my tuition bill from Chapman.... Bye-bye savings.... That really pissed me off, but hey, I'm used to not having money, so I'll get over it. What's important is that I've made pretty good friends with my co-workers at the Basque and I've gained some more work experience. Hopefully I can get another waitressing job down in Orange somewhere. Although, in Orange, I'll just be one of a million of other pretty, young, blonde, white-girls. Eh, it was nice while it lasted...