Sunday, February 20, 2005

God's Waffle House, My Name's Mindy and I'll Be Your Waitress

God's Waffle House is a non-smoking establishment. All franchise-owned stores are smoke free.

When I rule the world, there won't be any eating in church. That's rule number one, I think. No, it'll be rule number two. The first rule will be bowing before me, bla bla bla.

Secondly, hormonal preteen girls will be given over to a sweat shop where they can't spend the day whining they're BORED. Man, when I was a kid, if I told my mom I was bored, she'd tell me to go clean something. If I whined a second time, mom'd get me a bucket of soapy water and tell me to wash the walls. Hell, no. I knew better. Besides I was like literate and stuff, so I'd go read. In 4th grade I read this anthology of Steven King stories that scared the shit outta me good. But it kept me from washing walls. Obviously dear little Sarah isn't literate. So we should resort to methods used before schooling was mandatory... good old fashioned work. It's good for everyone, you see. Her little hands are kept busy, her parents no longer have to pay her an allowance, and I get cute sweaters.

Third, there WILL be no smoking in God's Waffle House. I love James' friends. They're great people. They also smoked like a pack a piece while I was over their house. Being around ONE person who smells like cigarette smoke is more than my sad, pathetic and damaged lungs can handle (it's a funny story involving 21 days in the hospital and a missed trip to Florida, lemme tell you some day. And by funny I mean funny as in sad, not funny-ha ha). I could feel my lungs filling up with fluid the more I saw there. Other than that whole drowning in a desert sort of feeling, it was a pleasent afternoon spent with them.

I hope I have enough lung capacity to actually work out at the gym tomorrow. Oh yeah and to practice my music for 15 min. I swear on a stack O bibles I'm going to practice 15 minutes every day this coming week. I have a feeling I might be spending only a week or so more on the piece I'm working on now and then I'm going to hit her up for that piece from Madem Butterfly. If I start wearing her down now, maybe we can just have a happy Puccini semester. God, I'm so lame.

BTW, thanks to mom for telling me the wrong week that we're singing at the 9am mass. Not only could I have slept in an hour and still made it to the 9am mass without having to be there for music warm up, but I could have gone to like the 10 am at St. Mary's or something, and then I wouldn't have had to have chunks of brain matter spew out my ears in God's Waffle House this morning.

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