Stuffed at Smokey Hollow

Today my dad and I drove down to Jemison for lunch at Smokey Hollow Restaurant. It was easy to find-- an important factor considering the fact that driving my dad's Impala and listening to soft R&B at an almost inaudible volume tend to lull me to sleepy land.

My dad ordered the biggest burger on the menu and I-- being the risk taker that I am-- decided to a 1/2 slab of ribs, one of their signature dishes (When in Rome, right??). It came with three sides so I ordered mashed potatoes(meh), corn on the cob(okay), and fried green tomatoes(yum). Total bill: $15.11.

By the time I was done, my plate looked like a crime scene without the white chalk.

Aside from the stale smoke in the air, the experience and the food were pretty good. We'll give it... 3 3/4 stars, just like on StarSearch.

Next stop, Davis Drugs in Columbiana.

Dazed and Bemused - Movie Edition

As I've said, I have tons and tons of movies from every genre. My taste is so varied that I'm wondering if my movie preferences reflect some inner personalities that are trying to get out. Below are some of my favorite movies and the part of my personality that, I assume, is rearing its ugly head.

My inner frat boy:
Old School



My inner emo teenage girl:
Garden State



My inner suburban gansta:
ATL



My inner older, menopausal white lady:
Something's Gotta Give



My inner pothead:
Dazed and Confused


My inner techno-geek:
I-Robot

Refreshed and Quotable

After today's debacle (see below), I pulled out one of my favorite book of quotes. It's called "Seize the Moment" and it is a collection of fantastic quotes from tons of fabulous people. It was given to me by my friend Emily years ago and it includes this gem from Henry David Thoreau that I will use to keep me going on this rainy day:

If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams... he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.

Ahhhh. Who doesn't love a good quote?

Disturbed, Jobless, and Possibly a Witness

Pardon me while I vent.. feel free to scroll past this entry to much more introspective and entertaining content below.

In an effort to prove to the world (but mostly my parents) that I am seriously looking for full-time employment, I decided to visit one of Birmingham's... er.. finest recruitment firms today. What could it hurt, right? Given, the job that will satisfy my twisted mind will probably not fall under such neat and tidy titles as "Administrative Assistant" or "Payroll Specialist," but I have the experience and I figured I'd give it a shot.

When I spoke with my recruiter (and I use that term loosely) last week, it was obvious that spent much of the 60s-90s with a Virginia Slim permanently attached to her lips and she must have had some hearing issues because she talked suuuuper loud. She was a little off-center, but so am I. This could work, right? Right!?!

Wrong.

As I waited in the lobby for her to call my name, I could hear her raspy voice from the office area. I assumed that her office must be right next to the lobby because I could hear her so clearly. Nah. Once she finished her phone calls she led me to the very last cubicle in the very back corner of the building, closest to the president's office. I'm guessing they put her there for a reason. Kinda like the kid that talks too much in elementary school.

While we spent very little time discussing what I'd like to do, what area I would like to work in, or if I would rather have kept my @#%$! in the bed on this cold, rainy day than drive up the road and listen to this nut talk nonsense about..sorry. Let's continue.

Here's a little peek into the tail end of our discussion..

Me: Well, after I graduated from Auburn I worked with children with severe autism and mental retardation and while it was tough, I really liked--

Recruiter: Hon' let me tell ya. I worked for the state vocational system for 3 dadgum years and I had to let that job go. My boss told me I had a bad attitude and I told him he may just be right.

Me: Yeah, well, you definitely have to have a certain mindset to work with people with disabilities, but--

Recruiter: Well I had to go into some BAAAAD places, I mean BA-A-A-A-A-D. I told my boss I was gonna have to get a gun if he wanted me to go back to one house and he told me no. Can you believe it? He said I wasn't allowed to have a weapon.

****At this point, I'm looking around to see if anybody is paying attention. There is no one nearby and luckily the ice machine is making enough noise to drown out some of our conversation. I am also, at this point --very obviously-- packing my stuff up and considering jingling my keys in case she didn't pick up on my cues.****

Recruiter (continues): So you know what I did? I got me a baseball bat. A bat ain't a weapon...

Me: Well, it kinnnnnda is--

Recruiter:.. but it became a weapon. Especially after I swung it. I believe the folks in the neighborhood were testing me to see if I was all big and bad like I was actin'.. carryin' around a baseball bat. But I swung it. Sure did.

Me (standing up and talking loudly for no apparent reason): Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do- but thank you for your time! I can't wait to hear from you! Thanks again! Have a good one!

Recruiter: Okay then, hon. I'll see what I can do and I'll be in touch.

I think I'd have better luck asking my 2 year old niece's Bumblebee classroom to help me find a job on Sesame Street.

Ugh.. the job saga continues...