Sporadic since 2016. Where have I been and what's going on?

Back when I started this blog, I really had no real vision for it, it was mostly just getting my thoughts out into the universe. Unfortunately, some of my actual thoughts were offensive to some people so I dialed back a little and tried to keep things light.

I've shared my thoughts on some of my favorite albums, struggles with the ups and downs of diets and also some stories of my past. At one point, I began to share work stories, which I ended up deleting. The management of the restaurants I worked for felt I was invading on the privacy of their clientele. In hindsight, I realized the stories contained no personal details of customers, just the situations they created and the managers seemed to be afraid of some sort of bad publicity. Hearth Pizza Tavern of Sandy Springs, Georgia should have worried more about the roaches we were stepping on behind the bar as we were making cocktails for customers rather than my mention of a woman who got mad that I bought her 2 glasses of Diet Coke and a time since she sucked them down and would snap her fingers for more before I could get her food order in. A co-worker that had followed me from Chuy's to Hearth seemed to have been the tattler who added drama to the stories.

After all that, life got busy. Terry and I took our first cruise, along with the original Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. We discovered the we very much enjoyed cruising and have been on 5 so far. I switched jobs, I left Hearth Pizza Tavern after working there for almost 4 years to work as the bar manager of a restaurant in Buckhead which converted to an event space after the General Manager #2 decided to pad his pockets and comp all of his friends alcohol and food when they would come in, $900 in comps a night is not normal. After we converted over as an event space, I stayed on as the manager and only bartender along with another guy. I broke my arm and hand on the way to work and ended up working an entire 6 hour shift behind the bar in excruciating pain because the owner of the venue, Paul, who owns Savi Provisions, threatened that he would not pay me for the last party I worked if I didn't work this one. The back pay was $600 and another $700 was what I made the night I broke my arm. I was stupid not to sue. I switched jobs again, working for Hobnob, the bar manager was not a people person to say the least and I just couldn't deal with watching her incomitance and hear her berate the employees and refer to black employees with racist stereotypical names rather than learning their actual names. I quit and started at Henri's Bakery as a manager and worked there for over a year and then Covid happened.

Once Covid hit, I avoided it. I lost my hearing in both ears due to Eustachian tube dysfunction and an extreme middle ear infection, which I eventually had procedures done to help relieve the pressure and restore my hearing, though I only have 5% hearing in my left ear. A week before my medical leave was over and I was to return to work, the owner of Henri's, a fratboy type named Anthony, informed me through email that due to my ongoing medical issues, my employment was terminated. I know Georgia is an at will employment state but one should really look into the legal aspect of terminating someone on medical leave, then again, they aren't too worried about employment laws anyway. Who still does a working interview? You know, where you have people come in to work a few unpaid shifts to see if they are going to work out in spite of not being trained? Covid was still in full force at the time and unemployment was paying more than what I made at Henri's anyway so I was able to work on creating soap for the little business that Terry and I started.

My mom passed away, not from Covid, the last week of the expanded Covid benefits. Luckily I had saved enough to live on for a while. Once I came back home, Terry was recalled to work at La Parrilla. He began having issues with his back and legs but worked through it. I eventually accepted a job as a front desk agent at the Ramada Plaza, where a former Hearth Pizza coworker was the manager. I had worked front desk of a hotel many years ago and it should have been an easy job but NOPE, I was poorly trained on the computer system and policies and had to learn the system on my own. The hotel was run down, had no hot water for the first 3 months I worked there, the elevators were constantly getting stuck and cars always getting broken into. To say it was a hooker hotel was an understatement. It was basically a place hookers, drug addicts and homeless people attempted to live out of. Within my first week, a tranny hooker, whose real name was Eugene, was banned from the property after trashing a room. Eugene tried to return several times claiming to be someone else and attempting to use stolen IDs and credit cards to check in. I got death threats nightly and the management said things like "Well this IS Old National" as if that was some sort of a consolation. I eventually added my holster and Ruger LCP Max to my uniform because our security was not into doing their jobs and when you are the only employee on the premises of a 271 room run down hotel, safety is always on your mind.

I quit the hotel and took a few months to clear my mind before accepting a position as a Book Operations Supervisor with the company the runs the retail locations in the airport and will have been there for 2 years this November. Terry quit La Parrilla after having back surgery and the management of La Parrilla decided they would try to abuse him and make him work long hours and not letting him sit down when needed in spite of his doctor advising him to limit his activities. Not sure why small companies don't understand the concept of adhering to medical accommodations, even when they are as simple as a 5 minute rest period every few hours.

That's a lot to unpack huh? Does anyone blog anymore? Even if they don't I guess I will keep this going just because I once enjoyed sharing whatever was on my mind. While I'm not the most tech savvy person, I might even follow through with an idea of doing videos to run concurrent with my blogs.

So that's what's been going on with me in a nutshell. There's a lot more between the lines and I will probably cover some of it in future blogs. Till then have a great one.

Cast Album Review Song & Dance Original Broadway Cast, 1985 (RCA) starring Bernadette Peters

Song and Dance Original Broadway Cast Recording Cover

Back in 1985, there was a lot of buzz around New York for the new Bernadette Peters show, "Song & Dance." Unfortunately, Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Song & Dance" didn't get much attention in the United States outside of New York. It was already a hit in London, originally starring Marti Webb and eventually Liz Robertson, Lulu, and then Sarah Brightman. This recording preserves only "The Songs" of "Song & Dance," essentially known as "Tell Me On A Sunday," omitting act 2, "Dance," which is set to the instrumental music known as "Variations." The producers felt that New York audiences wouldn't connect with the original story, so Richard Maltby, Jr. was brought in to direct the show, adapt it for American audiences, and add lyrics to new songs and revise existing ones. In this version, the character is named Emma, and it follows her involvement with four men: Chuck, Sheldon, a married man named Paul, and the significant character and star of act 2, Joe. Several tunes from the London production were replaced with new songs, like "Last Man In My Life" was swapped out for the earworm "Unexpected Song," which is possibly the greatest of the new material, highlighting Emma's love for Joe. A song from the London production, "Nothing Like You I've Ever Known," was included for some reason, even though it wasn't in the Broadway show. Thankfully, we get to hear Bernadette Peters' fine rendition of it.

Bernadette Peters' British accent is best described as somewhat natural yet studied during the speaking parts, but her singing in a British accent feels a bit of a stretch, considering Brits rarely sing in their own accent. During the recording sessions, Peters was ill and requested they wait until she was well. Despite this, she is in fine voice, and her performance feels very much like she's on stage singing to an audience throughout. The orchestrations have a somewhat dated mid-1980s vibe, but it works. My main complaint, besides act 2 not being recorded, is that the orchestra sounds metallic and small rather than the lush sound expected from a musical theatre recording. There are also issues with the way the vocals were mixed, and though the recording has supposedly been remastered, there are sections with some distortion on Peters' vocals, mostly during the belting sections.

Song & Dance Original Broadway Poster

Of the three English-language recordings of "Song & Dance" released in the 1980s—the original London cast featuring Marti Webb and the 1984 London Cast recording featuring Sarah Brightman—this one is enjoyable in tandem with the Marti Webb album. Both albums featuring Webb and Brightman include the second act. It's a shame we never got an official recording from either Betty Buckley's run on Broadway or the touring production starring Melissa Manchester, as they would have been lovely additions to the "Song & Dance" discography.

Click the link below to listen to this incredible cast recording.

Chicken Pox...Chicken Pops....Chicken Pocks...and a Family Barbecue

Throughout my life, I've been blessed with the ability to remember things that most people forget. My childhood could be described in two ways: 1) a series of traumatic and dramatic events, or 2) colorful and eventful. This story fits those descriptions to a T.

Before children could receive vaccinations for chicken pox, the only way to ensure you wouldn't suffer from the illness as an adult was to catch it and endure it as a child. Healthcare officials claim that the symptoms and severity of the illness are far worse if contracted as an adult, leading many parents to expose their children to the illness as early as possible. Once you have the virus in your system, your body builds up immunity, and you shouldn't suffer from it again—unless your immune system is weak, which leaves you susceptible to shingles.

It took me years to figure out where I contracted the chicken pox. Aside from the 20 kids in my class and the 30 that rode my bus, I didn't have much contact with the outside world. Don't worry; the discovery of where I caught the virus figures into this story later on.

I was in Mrs. Herring's second-grade class at Tanner Williams, sometime around Easter of 1983. My mom had been preparing for a complete hysterectomy for a few weeks. Mamma was pretty much the one to help my sister and me when we were sick, unless it involved vomit—then it was my dad's department.

Mamma had been in the hospital for a few days when she called, and I was so excited to tell her about the banana scratch-and-sniff sticker Mrs. Herring gave me for the excellent grades I'd received the previous week. I told her it would be waiting for her when she got back home. It smelled JUST like real bananas, and I thought Mamma just had to smell it for herself. I'm sure she wasn't exactly interested, but my excitement over something so small was enough to cheer her up for the moment.

The following morning, I woke up with a sore throat, an itchy back, feeling groggy, tired, and visibly sick. But my dad, an old-school Marine, had the motto to suck it up and go to school. He preached that perfect attendance was crucial to our education. In reality, thinking back, it had more to do with the fact that he would rather cut off his hand than call out from work. He HAD to go to work, and the only other person who could watch me was my sister, but she was in the 8th grade and couldn't stay home from school.

Why didn't Daddy take me to work with him, you ask? Daddy's job at the time was with a company called Leak Repair Incorporated. While it sounds like he was a plumber, he was not. He was a technician who repaired industrial steam leaks at large facilities and plants like Monsanto, Cyanamid, Air Products, Scott Paper, and various power companies like Mississippi, Gulf, and Alabama Power. Daddy's office was based in Pensacola, Florida, about 45 minutes across Mobile Bay. Even if he went through the office each day, it wouldn't have been a good environment for a sick child—it was small, barely had enough room for the secretary and his boss, Dave Croft. Pretty much Daddy's office was his work truck, and it wouldn't have been suitable for a sick child as it reeked of industrial sealant that looked like a thick slurry of ground-up asphalt, lead, and other metals mixed with thickeners and solvents.

He gave me an aspirin, and off to school I went, sick with an unknown illness. Had he looked at my back and stomach, he would have likely known that something was up, but he didn't—live and learn. For anyone who went to Tanner Williams Elementary School back in 1983, rode Mrs. Horton's bus to and from school, had lunch with Mrs. Herring's class, or was in Mrs. Herring's class, you were definitely exposed to chicken pox thanks to my dad.

Being raised the way we were, my sister and I knew better than to complain about being sick unless we REALLY were sick because it meant several things: Mamma's medicine cabinet contained nothing we wanted to take, many of the medicines were either for adults or so old that no one could remember when they were purchased. If we had a cold, we ended up with a tablespoon of Creomulsion. Little did Mamma know, it did nothing other than suppress a cough. It contained no fever reducers, pain relievers, antihistamines, or expectorants—in other words, it did nothing but taste bad and kept you from coughing, and many times, we didn't even have a cough.

To this day, I keep a bottle of it in my medicine cabinet because it is an excellent cough suppressant. So, needless to say, I didn't complain to Mrs. Herring because I didn't want her to call Daddy and have him give me the horrible medicine when I got home. For anyone who remembers chicken pox, you'll recall the unending urge to scratch and the low-grade fever all over your body as it comes on. As I sat at my desk doing my schoolwork, the itching became unbearable, my muscles began to feel crampy, and my entire body felt like it was flushing. But the itching was the main pain—so much so that I used my lead-tipped pencil to poke and scratch the little bumps all over my back that I noticed while in the bathroom during recess. I popped something with my pencil, but it didn't hurt. I was too afraid to say anything to Mrs. Herring because I didn't want anyone to know something was really wrong. I was also afraid I'd get in trouble or that she would embarrass me in front of the class over making a big deal out of hardly anything, so I just endured it.

About an hour before school let out, I discovered my voice was scratchy and almost gone, so I remained silent for the rest of the day and kept to myself on the bus instead of sitting with my friends Jay and Monica. When I got home, Grandma Manning, my dad's mom, was in the kitchen cooking dinner for us and had a pot of tea boiling on the stove. Mamma was lying on the couch. I was surprised because no one told me she was coming home. I grabbed the scratch-and-sniff sticker I'd been obsessing over and scratched it and sniffed it, but it didn't smell as good as it did the other day. In fact, it smelled rancid to me. I later discovered everything smelled funny to me because I was sick. Anyway, I handed my mom the sticker so she could share in my excitement over the prize I'd been given. She was as excited as she needed to be.

Granny didn't have her overnight bag with her; usually, she would have it if she was staying the night since she only lived about 5 miles from our house. She was just there to cook and make sure we had provisions for the next few days while Mamma rested after her hospital stay. My throat was scratchy, but the excitement of Mamma being home masked the fact that my voice was not 100%. After my dad took Granny back home, he returned with a 2-liter bottle of Sprite, a 2-liter bottle of Tab for Mamma, a box of crackers, and a bunch of cans of Campbell's soup.

A couple of minutes after Daddy came home, it was time for me to take my nightly bath. I mentioned to Mamma that I felt weird and my back was itchy, knowing that she would put her long fingernails to good use. She was a master at back-scratching, but the second she saw my back, she must have put two and two together, and it clicked in her mind, especially since my voice sounded scratchy. She asked my daddy why he let me go to school looking and sounding like I did. Daddy was dumbfounded and said that he had to work and I wasn't throwing up, so I couldn't have been that sick. She had him look at my back, and I still remember him saying, "What did he get into?" Mamma replied, "He didn't get into anything, he's got chicken pox." My sister Becki had the chicken pox a year or so before I was born, around the same time of year. Thinking back on the basic care I received, I'm sure Becki got the sort of care where a parent would try anything from aspirin to bourbon to appease the child, and I'm sure she had fewer medication options than I did.

Mamma called the doctor to ask what she should do. He told her to stay away from me because, being so soon after her operation, she could get shingles due to her compromised immune system. He also advised her to give me plenty of liquids and not to give me any aspirin. I'm sure he mentioned that antihistamines and cold medicines would help relieve my symptoms, but I don't remember being offered any medicine, and I would have remembered if I had been. I do recall her mentioning calamine lotion while on the phone, but that never happened either.

What I do remember is Mamma giving me lotion from a pink bottle and trying to convince me it was good for itching, although it did nothing. To this day, I remember that bottle of lotion with a pink label made by Avon. It definitely did not contain calamine.

Feeling bad about sending me to school, Daddy went back out to grab a few more groceries since there were two sick people in the house. He not only brought back Chicken with Rice and Alphabet Soup, but he also brought back my favorite, Chicken with Stars. Daddy also knew I'd need something to pass the time, so he bought a coloring book featuring the Superfriends and a box of store-branded crayons from K&B Drugs. I loved those crayons more than words can express. Not only did they color well—believe it or not—they were my favorite because the box and paper wrappers were my favorite color at the time, purple—K&B purple, to be exact.

Becki might have made a good daytime helper for me while I was home sick, as she was immune to chicken pox after having them over seven years ago. However, she was just 13 and had to go to school herself. When she was home, she still kept her distance—hanging out with a spotty, cranky 7-year-old isn't fun for a 13-year-old girl. Occasionally, she would stop by the couch to leave me a cold washcloth, a cup of tea, or just to mess with me like an older sister would do with her younger brother.

So, there we were, the following day, stuck at home in separate rooms. My mom, home from the hospital and still recovering from surgery, and me, sick with chicken pox. The timing couldn't have been worse. Being a mamma's boy, I just wanted to cuddle up with my mamma or love on my Springer Spaniel, Pickles. Affection is better than any medicine to me, whether from my mamma or my dog, but I was secluded from both. I’m not sure if it was just me or if it happens to everyone with chicken pox, but my sense of smell became rather bizarre—things just didn’t smell right, and my sense of taste was really off. There was a particular smell that I kept sensing, which I can only describe as acidic, like apple cider vinegar blended with whatever aroma was in the air.

Throughout the two weeks that I had the chicken pox, I remember not wanting to eat anything but butterscotch or chocolate pudding and Campbell’s soup. The only thing I wanted to drink, which felt good on my throat, was sweet tea, but Mamma didn’t keep sweetened tea in the house nor did she drink it herself; that was a holdover from when Granny was there the day before.

The house we lived in had a kitchen with a bar that overlooked a den, which we used as our main living room, and our dining room was actually part of what was built to be the actual living room. I spent my days lying on the couch, watching Nickelodeon in its early years. Children’s programming back then included a few shows like Today’s Special, featuring an actor named Jeff Hyslop (whom I would later enjoy as the Phantom), and a show that seemed to run for three hours called Pinwheel.

Pinwheel always put me to sleep, and I remember waking up to find a bowl of chicken with stars or alphabet soup on the coffee table, accompanied by a cup of sweet tea and a few crackers. Despite needing to keep her distance, Mamma still took care of me. After finishing my lunch, I'd take the bowl and cup to the kitchen and leave them in the sink. My dad did the dishes when he got home from work because Mamma couldn't stand and do the dishes due to her stitches. Daddy helped her with quick sponge baths, and for a change, instead of my usual nightly bath, Mamma and Daddy let me bathe at night and in the morning. I remember lying in the water, wishing I could stay in it all day long because it was the only time I didn't itch.

By day 5, I was covered in blisters from head to toe—on my eyelid, all over my back, front, legs, in my mouth, nose, butt, and everywhere. I was miserable and itchy and couldn't stop scratching. Mamma made me wear my winter mittens to keep from scratching, which only made me want to scratch more. My nights were spent in my bedroom with the door open, a nightlight on, and a cup of water next to my bed. I never drank the water; I used it to wet my mittens and rub on the bumps all over my back, which were the itchiest. Anything was better than the Avon lotion. My bedding, from the time I got my first bed, consisted of a fitted sheet, flat sheet, and two rough acrylic blankets from TG&Y, Wool-co, or Woolworth. The blankets were so rough and itchy that you didn't want them to touch your bare skin. This was one time I couldn't bear to have a blanket over me, even with a sheet between me and the blanket, and I'm someone who has to have a thick blanket when I sleep for security reasons. So, I settled for the thin blue sheet as my cover. Somehow, I managed to sleep despite being itchy, in pain, and feeling unsecured.

Saturday morning arrived, and I woke up still infected, but it looked like the blisters were almost gone. After a week of illness, I was ready to get better. I headed to my spot on the couch and started watching cartoons. My dad was already up, and I remember seeing him fill his ice chest with cans of beer. I asked if he was going fishing because that's usually what he did before going fishing. He told me the neighbors were grilling out, and the beer was for that. I love cookouts; it meant we were having barbecued chicken—my favorite. After a week of condensed canned soup, anything sounded good to me.

I opened the refrigerator door and saw a big bowl of butterscotch pudding chilling—HELL YEAH! Despite everything, I was still sick and likely stuck inside. As the day progressed, Daddy headed to the backyard, fired up the grill, and I could smell the barbecue permeating through our open window. It was a beautiful day, and I heard the chatter of the neighbors, their kids, my sister, and my parents in the backyard. The windows were open, and I could see, hear, and smell everything but wasn't allowed outside. All I wanted, more than anything, was to go outside, eat a chicken leg, sneak a beer from the cooler, go back inside, and enjoy some pudding. Becki occasionally passed the window and teased me, knowing I was stuck inside. Mamma came inside with a chicken leg for me and asked if I wanted some soup. I told her I wanted pudding. She brought me a bowl of pudding and sat next to me for the first time since she got out of the hospital. She felt my head and told me I still had a fever but might be ready to go to school on Monday.

Mrs. Herring sent some work for me to do with Monica, my friend who lived two doors down from us. It wasn't as extensive as our classwork but enough to keep up with her lesson plan. Funny how things work—I got sick and still managed to keep my grades up with minimal work. I never got my beer, but the pudding made up for it. My throat was still itchy, but the pudding was soothing, and I told my mom I wanted more because it felt good. Sunday passed, and Mamma was feeling better, up and moving more, possibly just tired of lying around. I know I was tired of lying around, but when you're itchy and hot from a fever, it's best to stay still and relaxed. The bumps looked like they might be gone by morning, and my fever was just a low-grade fever. My voice was back to normal by the time my 8 PM bedtime arrived.

Monday came around, and as ready as I was to get out of the house, I woke up still not feeling better. The bumps had begun to clear up the day before, and I would have done anything to get dressed and go to school. But there was no faking it—I looked in the mirror, and the bumps were back in full force. I'd had them for 7 days, and the average duration is 5 to 7 days. The general consensus was that I might have had a relapse or gotten them a second time because my infection lasted longer than usual. I just wanted to get out of the house for a little while. I didn't know what I was missing, but it had to be better than 3 hours of "Pinwheel" followed by "The Price is Right," "Days of Our Lives," and "Another World." At least I could sit up, color, and do things to keep busy while watching TV.

The same thing happened on Tuesday and Wednesday. Later on Wednesday night, Mamma helped me get out of the bathtub. She looked at my back and asked if I'd scratched myself with something other than my hands. I told her I used my pencil at school. There was one lesion that was healing slower than the rest, possibly because it had burst and become infected. She cleaned it with peroxide and said I might get to go to school in the morning. I was super excited—I was sick of staying home sick. When I woke up Thursday morning, I was still a bit itchy but thought it might just be mental. Mamma told me to take a bath, and while I was in the tub, she took my temperature. She said if it was normal, I could go to school. I wished as hard as I could that it was normal, trying not to touch the tip of the thermometer with my tongue, hoping to coax it into being normal. Unfortunately, I had to stay home, but Mamma said I didn't have to lay on the couch if I didn't want to.

I spent most of the day following her around as she did household chores and laundry. Our washing machine was in a room just outside our back door in the front of our carport. We didn't have a dryer, as it wasn't an expense people could justify back then, so we hung our clothes to dry on a clothesline that spanned the side of our backyard. I helped Mamma hang the laundry, handing her the clothespins as she hung each item. Our dog, Pickles, was strictly an outdoor dog. Mamma didn't believe in having animals in the house, and now that I'm older, I can't imagine keeping a dog outside. Anyway, Pickles followed me around, nudging my leg with her cold, wet nose. She was as excited to interact with me as I was with her. Over a week of not seeing Pickles except through the window made me happy to finally play with her.

After the laundry was on the line, Mamma said she was tired and needed to lie down, as she was still recovering from surgery. She headed to bed, and I followed. Taking a nap anywhere other than my room or the couch felt like a vacation in itself. We both fell asleep until Daddy got home from work. He brought in the laundry and folded it while Mamma cooked dinner. She took my temperature just before my nightly bath but didn't say anything.

I woke up the next day, Friday morning, to find my clothes for the day laid out on the little table next to my bed. I got dressed and went to the living room to find all the schoolwork I'd done over the past two weeks in a neat pile. Mamma gave me a bowl of cereal and told me to hurry up so I wouldn't miss the bus. It was Friday, and I finally got to go to school. I was so excited. I wasn't itchy or sick, and I felt good and ready to see my friends at school. I hurried up, ate, brushed my teeth, put on my shoes, grabbed my Masters of the Universe lunchbox and the papers I had to turn in to Mrs. Herring. I headed out to the bus stop where Monica usually stood, but she wasn't there—just the two weird girls who never talked to me and lived across the street from Monica. Mrs. Horton's bus pulled up, and I was all smiles and happy to see her. I noticed that a fourth of the kids who were usually on the bus weren't there.

When I arrived at school and went to my class, I set my papers on Mrs. Herring's desk and put my lunchbox in my cubby hole on the wall. When the bell rang, I looked around and saw that at least a third of my class was absent. It seemed there was an outbreak of chicken pox in my class, in the cafeteria, and on the bus over the past week. While I can't be 100% sure, I have a feeling that my dad's decision to send me to school the day I complained about feeling bad might have impacted a bunch of kids in my class, lunchroom, and bus. I guess the silver lining is that none of those kids will suffer from chicken pox as adults.

Remember how I mentioned discovering years later how I contracted chicken pox? Mamma finally came clean and told me that she exposed me to the chicken pox about three weeks before she was supposed to go into the hospital. She sent me to play with the girl next door, Angie. Angie wasn't exactly an ideal playmate; she was a known bully, and most neighboring parents encouraged us to avoid her. However, on this day, my mom, along with Monica and her sister Meredith's mom, Ms. Karen, sent us all over to Angie's to play together. Angie wasn't very interested, so we ended up sitting in her living room, watching Fraggle Rock on HBO, drinking Kool-Aid, and eating chips and dip.

As most know, kids are notorious for double-dipping, except for me—I hate that, but I can't resist Doritos and French Onion dip. The plan was to expose Monica, Meredith, and me to the chicken pox that Angie had at the time. None of us had a clue because, unlike my parents, Angie's mom had her on adult-strength Tylenol with codeine throughout her infection.

The idea was that I would get the pox a week and a half before Mamma went into the hospital and be rid of them within 5 to 7 days. Meredith got the pox within a few days, but Monica and I didn't, leading our parents to think we were immune. Mamma went into the hospital, and then the virus finally took hold when it was least expected. My immune system must have been stronger than they thought. Unfortunately, the plan backfired due to the unpredictable timing of my infection. Monica got the chicken pox the weekend of our barbecue and missed school for a week plus three more days.

Did you get vaccinated or endure the chicken pox? What's your story? Please share in the comments below.

Anthony Rapp Claims Kevin Spacey Made ‘Sexual Advances’ On Him When He Was 14 Years Old

Just read this story on Back2Stonewall and thought it would be worth sharing. I have always liked Anthony Rapp, not so much Kevin Spacey. I find it appaling that someone considered to be a well respected actor, such as Spacey, waited so late in the game to come out, much like Barry Manilow. It's taken decades for the gay community to be considered a part of NORMAL society rather than looked upon as freaks and perverts...For someone that was respected enough to accept Academy, Tony and Golden Globe awards as well as accept nominations for Grammys and Emmys and not to mention a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, why wasn't he fighting the fight for our rights?

As for this story, I can't fault Rapp in this situation because I know how I was from the age 12 onward but Spacey and his lapse of judgement can be likened to the nameless faceless stories we hear coming from perverted pastors and priests. As for the Spacey apology, I commend him for that, it does take balls to apologize for something like this, HOWEVER, there is NO reason to involve the fact that you were intoxicated, an apology should include no excuses.

Speaking to BuzzFeed News, actor Anthony Rapp has come forward alleging that Kevin Spacey made a sexual advance on him when he was the 14-year-old lead of the Broadway play Precious Sons in 1986

Spacey befriended Rapp while they both performed on Broadway shows, invited Rapp over to his apartment for a party, and, at the end of the night, picked Rapp up, placed him on his bed, and climbed on top of him, making a sexual advance. According to public records, Spacey was 26. Rapp was 14.

 Rapp said he feels compelled to come forward.

"And not to simply air a grievance," he said, "but to try to shine another light on the decades of behavior that have been allowed to continue because many people, including myself, being silent. … I'm feeling really awake to the moment that we're living in, and I'm hopeful that this can make a difference."

In a statement, Spacey said that he does not remember the encounter, but owes Rapp the “sincerest apology” for his “drunken” actions if the allegation is true.

"This story has encouraged me to address other things about my life. I know that there are other stories out there about me and that some have been fueled by the fact that I have been so protective of my privacy," he continued. He also acknowledged for the first time publicly that "I now choose to live as a gay man."

My favorite quote from Billy Eichner on Twitter

My Thoughts of Cra-Z-Art Shimmer 'n Sparkle Cra-Z-Knitz Ultimate Designer Knitting Station

During the Christmas season of 2014, I spotted this loom knitting set at both Wal-Mart and Toys R Us. Given that I already own over 20 different knitting looms, I couldn't really justify spending $30 on the set. However, the lap desk that the looms fit into intrigued me. I even considered buying a plastic lap desk from Hobby Lobby and retrofitting it for my existing looms, but I haven't gotten around to it yet.
Cra-Z-Art, the company behind the set, is the same one I knew as RoseArt when I was a kid. I wasn't a fan of RoseArt crayons, and Cra-Z-Art's crayons are no different—they don't match the quality of Crayola or Sargent's. However, I've used other products from Cra-Z-Art that I enjoyed, so I figured this loom set could be hit or miss. Even with a 40% or 50% off coupon, I still couldn't justify the cost.
A member of the GoodKnitKisses Facebook group mentioned that this set was listed on for $5.95 under Warehouse Deals. The listing stated it was used and the box was damaged, but at less than $6, it wouldn't be a huge loss if it turned out to be a dud. As an Amazon Prime member, I get free 2-day shipping on most items, so I ordered the loom set. Two days later, it arrived on my doorstep.
When I opened the box, I was pleasantly surprised to find it in good condition, never opened and showing no signs of damage other than slightly dented corners from shop wear. The set was indeed new. There was more to it than I realized—the "bonus" item was a spool loom, also known as a French knitter. My excitement for the loom desk turned to disappointment when I realized it was designed to sit on a table or solid surface rather than being used as a lap desk.
The set includes two standard knitting looms: one round loom for hats and items knitted in the round, and a small "long" loom, also known as a rack loom, for flat paneled items. The molded plastic has a thin and glossy feel to it. I've read some reviews claiming it is flimsy plastic, but honestly, this is a mass-produced loom set marketed to children. It's not designed for professional or serious projects like Knifty Knitter or Martha Stewart looms. The knobs on the tops of the looms are smaller than I'd prefer, but again, this isn't meant to be a travel or on-the-go set. The looms are completely functional. The loom hook is really cool and fits my hand perfectly, unlike the standard ones that come with Darice, Yarnology, Knifty Knitter, or Boye looms.
In addition to the spool loom, the set includes four small skeins of brightly colored acrylic yarn. The yarn feels softer than Red Heart Super Saver or the acrylic yarns usually included in kids' kits. The downside is that each skein doesn't provide enough yarn for more than just a hat in each color. No problem, though—the included colors appear to match up with those available from any yarn retailer or can at least be coordinated.
My overall thoughts on this set? I'd say it's worth the original price if intended as a gift for a young child who wants to loom knit or a beginner. The yarn is fun to work with, the loom hook/tool is better than most, and the spool knitter made me feel like I got a great value. The knitting desk/storage mount is possibly the weakest link of the set, but it looks cute when all put together. One improvement I would have liked to see is a way to spin the looms as you work, instead of having to turn the entire desk/mount around.
Definitely a set to keep on hand if you have kids interested in crafting—it's fun and functional. And for those who love sharing their crafting enthusiasm, any recommendations or little gifts related to knitting are always welcome and appreciated!

Dangerous or Gross Lifesaving Animals

It's a fact that animals can extend our life expectancy by giving us stress relief by capturing our hearts with their cute and cuddly ways. Therapy cats and dogs have become so popular that prescriptions have been written to individuals with special needs. Lifesaving medical therapy doesn't stop with cuddly creatures though. Here's a bit of info that you might have missed last time you were diagnosing yourself on Web MD.

Horseshoe crab blood is used to fight endotoxins though with a cost of $15,000 per pint.

Gila Monster venom has been discovered to treat the epidemic in American known as diabetes. A hormone in the venom, known as exendin-4, is similar to a hormone in the human digestive system that produces insulin when blood sugar peaks. Byetta, the drug derived from the venom of the ferocious lizard is available as an injection for Type 2 Diabetics to maintain healthy glucose levels. Not only does the drug help with glucose levels, it has also been noted to help with weight loss and appetite suppression.

Snake venom has been found to treat an array of medical issues including blood pressure, cancer, bacterial infections and many others. Tirofiban, an anticoagulant drug used to treat cardiovascular disease is derived from the venom of the Saw-scaled viper. Many other venoms are used for various ailments including venom from the King Cobra, Bushmaster, Copperheads and even the harmless, yet mildly venomous Garter Snake.

Maggots are certainly not something people think of when it comes to cleanliness. The larvae of the blowfly loves to eat decaying or dead flesh. Doctors use maggots to clean wounds by allowing them to eat the dead and bacteria filled tissue. Usually only used as a last resort when all other treatment methods have failed, maggots are placed on the infection under bandages for several days. The maggots ingest liquefied bacteria and clean the dead tissue from lacerations. Within the time these little guys are feasting on your flesh, they grow about a half an inch.

Leeches are known as nature's vampires. They were commonly used centuries ago to save limbs as well as lives. In modern times, leeches are used to close wounds and repair skin damage after reattachment of limbs such as fingers and toes. Just imagine, you cut your finger off, doctors reattach it then apply a few creatures with three jaws full of sharp teeth that continuously feeds on your blood. Sound fun? The FDA has approved only one of the 650 different species of leeches for medical use.

MARTA Bus 196-4 Minute Walk From My House

When Terry and I started house hunting before the economy tanked, one of our non-negotiable requirements was proximity to public transportation. I don't enjoy driving and didn't want to rely on Terry all the time. Our agent, Lily, found several homes on the MARTA line, but most involved lengthy bus rides and equally long train journeys.

Eventually, Lily found a community in Clayton County right across the street from a bus stop. This stop offered a 15-minute ride to the airport, running 2-3 times an hour, seven days a week, with the last bus just after midnight. Although it wasn't MARTA, C-Tran had an agreement with them, so a paid ride on C-Tran provided free access to MARTA trains and transfers.

I used C-Tran countless times and found it extremely reliable. Whether covering a shift at work or heading to Cargo-Master, it was dependable. After my layoff, I had to rely on the bus again for job hunting. Fortunately, I could collect unemployment as jobs were scarce. During this time, county officials started riding the buses with clipboards to evaluate services and conduct verbal surveys with riders, including myself.

People often ask why I prefer public transportation over driving. I find driving stressful and prefer not to deal with traffic. I have a phobia of causing or being involved in accidents. The costs of car upkeep, insurance, and gas are also factors. Plus, using public transport allows me to listen to music, write, knit, or focus on things I wouldn't have time for at home.

In late 2009, it was announced that the Clayton County bus system would be discontinued. Rallies were held as people's ability to commute to work was jeopardized. The 8-mile ride to the Airport MARTA Station would now cost $30, making it an impractical expense for many. By March 31, 2010, C-Tran bus stops vanished overnight, cutting off people from work. This decision also complicated the crime situation in Clayton County, with burglary and robbery rates spiking.

Some enterprising individuals saw an opportunity in this grim situation. Two independent bus lines, including QuickTransit, emerged but failed due to mechanical issues. Southside Transportation, a trucking company, converted to a people-moving business but struggled with timeliness. Waiting for Southside often involved encounters with police, drug dealers, and panhandlers, making the experience unpleasant.

I began working at Macaroni Grill, and fortunately, the manager scheduled me for the same shifts as Terry, so we could commute together. We also gave rides to co-workers, who contributed to gas money. I eventually found two reliable drivers, Phil and Eddie, who charged $3-$4 for rides to the train station. Phil worked from 5 AM-6 PM, and Eddie covered evenings and Sundays.

Phil's van was uncomfortable and his manners were awful. He charged $4 but was often late and rude to passengers. On one occasion, he refused to let an older lady out of the van, which felt like kidnapping. His driving was reckless, and I found Uber to be a better option when Terry couldn't drive me.

Today is March 21, 2015. I work in Sandy Springs, Georgia, and for the first time in years, I won't need to rely on Uber or Phil. I'll be taking the new MARTA bus (Bus 196) to the train and then another bus (Bus 5 or Bus 87) to work. This change will save me money, reducing my daily commute cost from $16 with Uber and MARTA or $9 with Phil to just $5 round trip with the new bus stop. Investing in weekly passes, I now pay $23.75 for unlimited MARTA rides.

Aside from my personal preferences for public transportation, I believe the new MARTA lines in Clayton County will provide residents with better access to higher-paying jobs and a more reliable commute.

Boogers May Boost Your Immune System

A team of researchers from a West Coast university has discovered that the unsightly habit of picking one's nose and eating boogers may be beneficial to your health. The research team headed by two doctors conducted the project among two different kindergarten classes in two different schools. Each class was selected based on the teacher's observation that showed an equal amount of children that picked their noses and children that did not.

Dried mucus, or boogers, contains various particles of dust, pollutants, allergens as well as agents of infectious bacteria. Austrian doctor, Friedrich Bischinger advocated using fingers to pick and ingest nasal mucus. Dr. Bischinger explains, "nasal mucus contains a cocktail of antiseptic enzymes that kill or weaken many of the bacteria that become entangled in it. Eating mucus is a natural boost to the immune system." We already unknowingly ingest mucus as post nasal drip, it's a natural body function. Most the the harmful items however, are usually caught in the hairs or cilia towards the front of the nostril.

The test findings on the kindergartners, though disturbing, were surprising. Both classes had similar results, almost exactly the same in fact. Throughout the peak of cold and flu season, of the thirty non-nose pickers, seventeen missed classes after becoming ill. Of the thirty "booger eaters" only nine missed school for periods exceeding 3 days. Further findings did show differences in illnesses experienced by by subject types. Only three children that did not ingest mucus tested positive for strep infections. Within the nine children that were marked as booger eaters, seven tested positive for strep throat.

If you gotta pick, go ahead. This does not exempt you from the taboo of picking your nose and eating your boogers, you will certainly be judged. Though the study does show that it may be beneficial to your immune system, remember the places your fingers have been since the last time you washed your hands.

My favorite taco seasoning recipe

I don't buy those taco seasoning packets anymore because I've realized that those same spices are in my spice rack and I could make the same thing without MSG and preservatives. This works well for both ground beef as well as ground turkey. This makes enough spice for up to a pound and a half of meat.

1 tbsp chili powder

1 1/2 tsp cumin

1 tsp salt (I use ground sea salt)

1 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp garlic powder

1/4 tsp onion powder

1/4 tsp dried red pepper flakes

1/4 tsp oregano

1/2 tsp paprika

DIRECTIONS:

1. Mix all ingredients together and store in an airtight container until ready to use.

Energy Efficient NOT Environmentally Friendly Light Bulbs: CFL Hell!!!

Many years ago, when CFL lights began to show up in stores next to halogen and incandescent light bulbs, I thought I might as well try them due to the fact that the package stated they use less energy and will last much longer than conventional bulbs.

A few people I worked with stated the downside to CFL bulbs is the fact that when you turn the light on, it starts off dim and gets brighter. I didn't see a problem in that because I figured a trade off had to be made so I bought a few packs.

The light fixtures in my house seem to have been wired with basic wiring. I've had many issues with incandescent bulbs blowing out quickly in some fixtures and last for years in others. My ceiling fan in my office seems to be the worst so that's the first to get replaced.

Since 2009, I can honestly say that I've only had 3 out of nine blowouts. That's a great record in 5 or 6 years. Of course I discovered more downsides to these bulbs than I ever imagined. Possibly one of the biggest issues/complaints regarding CFL's is the fact that they aren't as environmentally friendly as we were led to believe. They contain mercury, a toxic substance that has ill effects on humans if ingested, inhaled or absorbed through our skin. These bulbs, much like lithium ion batteries, by law, are NOT to be disposed of through any other method other than dropping off the used and no longer useful unit to a facility which will in turn dispose of it properly. Best Buy, some Wal-Mart stores as well as home improvement stores usually have a drop off location for these toxic items.

Now that I've mentioned the toxicity and environmental danger of these bulbs, I'll now fill you in on two additional reasons why I will never purchase these bulbs again.

A friend that I went to school with had a mishap in recent years where he accidentally stepped on a CFL bulb barefoot. Not only did the bulb cut the hell out of him, the damage resembled a snakebite. A few weeks later, when it should have healed or at least been close to healed, it looked even worse and was seriously infected in spite of keeping the wound clean and all that jazz. Maybe there's more to these bulbs that just the threat of mercury and we all know mercury doesn't stop something from healing or infect it worse...it just poisons us internally...remember mercurochrome?

My last reason behind NEVER buying these again...besides the fact I can't throw them in the garbage for weekly pickup and they can cause nasty infections if one happens to break one and get cut by the glass...They are a fire hazard. The few that have already blown out in my home, include 2 that were in my office ceiling fan...the most recent blew 2 days ago. Rather than a flicker and the lumen pops, these things are just supposed to stop working. The ones I have in my home, seem to get hot at the base of the glass and melt the plastic material and seal. I've observed burn marks on each bulb I've had to replace, one had obviously flamed out because it was BLACK. Aside from the fact that the bulbs flamed or literally burned out, the seal was broken or ummm melted, releasing whatever vapors, gas or fumes into the air.

Unfortunately, I wish I could saw this was an isolated event among one brand but I actually purchased bulbs manufactured by GE as well as Wal-Mart Great Value. I find it suspect when 2 different brands from several different points of time suffer the same faulty issues.

It would seem incandescents are becoming a thing of the past, halogens are basically too bright for indoor use and CFL's are a hazard. Now that I'm feeling the burn from "energy efficient" light bulbs, I thought about going back to incandescents but seriously, they are a thing of the past so I'm gonna test out a few LED bulbs...those guys are EXPENSIVE but I'm sure in the long run, the expense will pay off...If not, I'm going snatching every light fixture from my house and light this bitch up with candles and lanterns.

Reading Glasses Before I'm 40

The day that each of my parents came home with a pair of reading glasses, I vowed that I would NEVER let my eyes get that bad.

Well...I made it to a few weeks shy of my 39th birthday before I realized that I need my first pair of readers. Nothing really special, just about 1.50 to 2.0 times to help me with my knitting when I'm working with a solid dark color and smaller print books.

I actually mentioned this to my doctor. She, in turn, asked me an array of questions regarding various ailments ranging from headaches to blurry vision of items close up or at a distance. Luckily, my truthful answers ended with the simple conclusion of "Yep, you should buy a pair of readers but nothing stronger than 2.0 and don't rely on them for anything other than what they are designed for."

I really through her off after this when she asked the last time I had an eye exam and my reply was 1998. Unfortunately, my insurance doesn't cover eye exams but none the less, she did refer me to an eye doctor...I needs to find me a decent plan before I make an appointment.

SO I now have 2 pair of readers One pair 2.0x for use while I'm at home from the Dollar Tree. Who knew the Dollar Tree actually had some decent readers? My second pair are Magnivision 1.75x from CVS for use while I'm out and about.

Long story short kids...Don't make fun of your parents and claim you will never let your eyes get bad enough for reading glasses!!! If they have glasses for reading, chances are YOU WILL ALSO!!!

Hang Glider Saved By Divine Intervention

An 18 year old woman in Colorado realized she was in trouble when she reached the edge of a cliff and looked up to see the sun through rips in the front edges glider. Heidi Wright could not stop in time and a gust of wind caught hold of the wings and thrust her up and over the rocks.

This has been a hobby of Miss Wright since she was 15 and knew the danger of gliding. Heidi always took care of her equipment and inspected it on a regular basis. "I don't know why I didn't inspect it this time, I guess it was the excitement of not doing since the previous year," exclaims Heidi. She knew upon take off that it would be a matter of time before her spiral down would become a nose dive once she prepared for a landing. Heidi's life flashed before her eyes and then she saw what she said were the wings of an angel covering the holes that she'd noticed a few seconds before.

Rather than a routine downward spiral, Heidi found herself in an upward draft heading for the cliff she'd just flown from. Miss Wright says, "The draft was like stepping onto an escalator, very gentle and smooth." Gliding experts and scientists are baffled because the wind direction runs in a consistent spiraling motion in that area. As far as science is concerned, the ordeal Heidi experienced was not HUMANLY possible.

Heidi contacted the manufacturer of her glider to report possible issues with the unit. She was told the model was discontinued due to a recall the previous year. Heidi was prepared to purchase a new glider the following week but was surprised when the company had a brand new replacement at her front door the very next day.

My O'Charley's Experience-No Holds Barred

Last year, I moved from working at Chuy's in Dunwoody, where my income was inconsistent, to O'Charley's in Fayetteville, Georgia, where the earnings seemed more stable. Given that Terry works just two doors down from O'Charley's and earns great money, I assumed it would be the same for me. Boy, was I wrong.

Have you ever worked a job that made you want to call in sick every shift or pop a Xanax on the way to work? That was my experience at O'Charley's. The business was booming, but the customers were the most demanding and ignorant people I've ever encountered. It seemed no one read the menu, which clearly described everything in detail. After a few weeks, my earnings started to decline, especially after the restaurant closed for a week for a modern remodel. Unfortunately, the new look attracted a clientele more suited to McDonald's or KFC rather than a sit-down restaurant. I hoped the decline was temporary because I was not going back to Chuy's.

When I started at O'Charley's, I was excited because my friend Casey was a manager there, and I remembered him as an awesome manager at Rio Bravo. Throughout my time at O'Charley's, I saw Casey working tirelessly in a thankless and unappreciated environment. He dealt with difficult customers, bad employees, and even the other three managers, who were not easy to work with. Working as a server at O'Charley's was like chewing on a stalk of celery—no enjoyment, but at least you could say you ate something. Our GM constantly threatened everyone's job. I saw him scream at someone for scraping a bread plate with their fingernail, then take it to a table, which we all did because our dishwasher was less than marginal in his work. I was determined that if I got reprimanded for anything, I would walk out of a shift in style—full section needing refills and all orders completely wrong. It never happened, but I was tempted on that last day when I walked with less than $13 for the fourth shift in a row.

So, what sucked about this place? The customers. Many people refer to restaurant customers as guests, but I don't. A guest is someone you invite and take care of their meal; a customer pays you. Many O'Charley's customers figured out how to eat without leaving a dime for their food or service. Coupons seriously dragged the clientele down to another level as well.

Here are some of the situations I've encountered... Being assigned tables in the bar isn't fun in any restaurant, especially if you're not a woman. Most managers don't understand, but bad customers usually expect service from a Cocktail Waitress, not a guy. Many times, people assume they'll get special prices or faster service—only during happy hours and not true. That 20-minute ticket time is the same all over the restaurant, and ordering a well-done steak adds more time.

Food allergies... I know the difference between being allergic and not liking something. I hate tomatoes but eat things with ketchup. I don't claim I'm allergic; I just explain I don't enjoy the flavor of raw tomatoes. Don't tell me you're allergic to tomatoes and then ask for ketchup for your fries. Also, don't come in on a busy Friday night and tell me to cook something in a different fryer because of an allergy. Our cooks are basically pot and crack heads who don't care and will nod their heads and do everything the easier way. Everything in the kitchen comes into contact with everything. I'd not be surprised if someone finds a bit of weed in their salad. Also, if you have food allergies, why are you grazing and eating off other people's plates? Someone with a seafood allergy did this, and we had to call 911. The paramedics took her to the hospital. That's on her, not her server or the restaurant.

High chairs or chairs at the end of a booth... We have tables, people. Booths were not designed to have a baby at the end of them. It's a fire hazard and a danger to your child when they grab for the hot plates our food runner is delivering to your table. Also, I don't want your slobbering child's DNA on my arms or hands as they grab for me.

Happy Birthday... We don't sing, and though I'm a good singer, I'm not singing for you. I don't care that it's your birthday. I don't know you. Also, why are you at a place like O'Charley's for your birthday? The party sections at the more elegant Olive Garden or Red Lobster booked up?

Handing me a check presenter and proclaiming that you left my tip in it is like announcing that you left the equivalent of what it costs to do a load of laundry at your apartment complex. We had a tip guide on the receipt showing 20%, 18%, and 15%. When you leave less than 10%, I feel my butt start to bleed. I am an OCD server. I have a script that I follow, and I touch every facet of the serving manual. When I hear you say, "Thank you so much, you did a wonderful job!" I know that was my tip, and I will give you no service next time.

Drinks for kids are clearly marked on the kids' menus. They offer no juice for kids for free, and if you order it, you are charged. If your kid sucks that juice down and wants another, you get charged for a second, third, fourth, and so on. It wasn't my policy or rule, so don't blame me.

Ordering... When you say, "I guess I'm ready," then proceed to ask, "Is this Prime Rib Pasta in horseradish sauce spicy?" or "Do you have any other sides besides the 12 listed here?" I know you're going to be difficult and not compensate me. Also, when you order a well-done steak, it's going to be dry.

Impossible orders... Knowing what you're talking about helps when ordering. When you tell me, "I want my steak medium but don't want any pink or red in it," that tells me you're confused. Medium is warm and red on the inside.

Being picky... I had a woman order "Cajun Chicken Pasta," then complain about too many peppers and onions, pick them all out, eat the chicken, and leave the rest. She then claimed she was still hungry. Lady, you ate all the chicken and left the rest. No wonder you're still hungry. You should've ordered Chicken Tenders if you just wanted chicken. She also complained that a margarita was too sweet, drank both the original and the remake, and was upset about being charged for both. She didn't tip me and shorted the bartender 50 cents. Her friend ordered a well-done steak but didn't want it dry, so she wanted it cooked in "Barbara-que" sauce. We don't cook steak in frying pans; it's grilled. Barbecue sauce will just burn and make the steak drier. Enjoy your shoe leather, Miss Well Done.

Yeast rolls or bread... NOT biscuits. They are free. We bring one per customer at the table plus one extra. That's the rule per our kitchen manager. Your refill is one per customer. They are free. Don't complain they are too light, dark, or taking too long. They are free. Furthermore, I'm allergic to the yeast in them. I don't touch them, put them in, or take them out of the oven. They are free.

Sitting in the bar and ordering water, water with lots of lemon for your nasty free lemonade, or ordering non-alcoholic beverages for everyone at the table is not acceptable. Also, bringing your kids to sit in the bar is inappropriate. Just saying.

To-go cups, plastic ware for the germophobic... Guess what? The silverware and glasses go through the same dishwasher as the plates you are eating on. Remember the pothead cook statement? They don't take the time to scrape off the stuck-on food from the plates like we do with the bread plates. You might be enjoying someone else's food on your plate along with yours as you enjoy your beverages from Styrofoam cups and eat with plastic ware like you're at a barbecue.

Regulars, friends of a manager... I don't care who you are. Just because you feel a sense of entitlement through a personal connection does not excuse you from tipping or acting like you have no manners. Within this location, I found an extreme "us against them" stance. I witnessed many servers, even the ones of color, referring to customers as ratchet or using the "N" word. As one of the few white servers, I found that many customers didn't appreciate me or any other servers who weren't black. I never understood the race card, even though I was raised in the deep south. Many black servers understood the struggles I and other servers of different races were dealing with. However, a few couldn't wrap their heads around the concept and claimed we were incompetent as servers. One server, who threw this in my face, was a full-time server with an associate degree as a dental hygienist. She got fired for sleeping with the married doctor, told me she has herpes, and gave me the rundown on who she's slept with at work and every place she's been fired from. I know how to follow steps of service and conduct myself in front of customers. I don't need a sex-crazed person giving me career advice.

After nine months of O'Charley's "Passion to Serve" BS, I had to get out. I realized why one of their values for employees is "Passion to Serve." If you had no passion to serve, you'd not last a day after making marginal money. The day I walked out, I added O'Charley's to my list of places to never go back to, and so far, I've kept my promise. If I want a cheap steak, I'll go to the grocery store.

Wife of Jesus Christ Charged With Fraud

A woman entered a Jacksonville, Florida car dealership looking to acquire a new car. Her method of payment caught the salesman's attention. The woman, Emma Harrison, wrote the dealership a $67,768 check with the names Jesus and Emma Christ on it. Emma told poilce that Jesus Christ was coming in the following week to pick up the car. She was arrested and charged with fraud related charges.

Jesus picking out his car.

World's Thinnest Home Comes With a BIG FAT Price

A townhouse so narrow that it's address reads 75 1/2 has gone on sale for a cost of $2.75 million. The tiny townhouse on Bedford Street in New York City's Greenwich Village previous owned by the likes of Pulitzer Prize winning author Edna St. Vincent Millay. Actors Cary Grant and John Barrymore have been reported to have slept there also. The real estate broker handling the property, Alex Nicholas, states "This is a place for someone who wants a bit of history, charm and uniqueness. When you own the narrowest house in all of New York, you'll be newsworthy."

Stephen Balsamo bought the three story, 1500 square foot home for $1.75 million in 2000. Mr. Balsamo completely renovated the home, originally built in 1873. The kitchen now has a custome stove with all four burners in a row rather than a two by two configuration. Mr. Balsamo also added other features to the home, including extended balconies and larger windows that overlook the garden to give the home a larger appearance. On the top floor, there's a huge skylight," say Nicholas. "This is old-world charm that's very bright." Despite the state of the current real estate market, experts expect the home to sell for the asking price.

Adrian singing Back To The Wall

My cover of Back To The Wall originally by the Divinyls.