Ma'am, I don't doubt the steak was over-cooked, but did you have to eat it all before you complained about it?

My mouth can get me into trouble sometimes. Jorph and the Mexiwon't, you can both stop laughing now, dirty fuckers. What I mean is, I talk too much, too fast, and too high, facts which are all amplified exponentially when at work. This isn't uncommon; most waiters have a completely different demeanor with their tables - for females, the voice tends to become very chipper, higher and more nasal, while men affect a lower, smoother tone. And I do tend to talk very quickly, especially when I've got a job to do, or as my friends like to say, when I'm on a mission; I talk with purpose. However, the fact that I all of a sudden sound like Minnie Mouse on helium isn't the only problem. Also equally irksome: for some reason unbeknownst to myself I feel the need to give a running commentary to my tables as I go about serving them. Example:

"Here's you salad, sir. Would you like some fresh ground pepper on that? Yes? Well, I'll just run and go get the pepper mill, and grab a tea pitcher on my way back and refill your drink. I just need to put in the order for your entree and it should be out in a few minutes; it might take a little longer because we have a new cook in the kitchen right now, and we just redid all the floors, so we're all walking really slowly to avoid tripping. That's a bit difficult for me because I'm quite clumsy, which is ironic because I was a ballet dancer for about 10 years. (pause) Is there anything else I can get for you? "

I could have just delivered the salad, brought the tea and pepper and been done with it. But, no. I have to yammer on to nice people who really don't need to know every little detail of my comings and goings while I serve them. I just have this tiny little fear in the back of my head that someday something like this will happen:

"Would anyone like some parmesan on their pasta? Okay, I'll just go get that and be right back. Afterwards I'll try and refill your drinks, and then after that I'll probably pop off to the bathroom for what promises to be a much needed, very long piss. I'll probably splash some water on my face, give my nose a good blow -as snot's been dripping out of it all night- and perhaps even text my boyfriend. I'm not really supposed to carry a phone in my apron, but I have been lately, which might get me into trouble - one of our managers is a right bastard, never know when he's going to explode. Then I'll come back here, see if everything tastes alright, and then go sort some silverware for rolling which is always very greasy, very disgusting, and only gets washed twice before it ends up in your mouth. Enjoy your meal!"

In related news, business is still slow, my nose is still running, and I'm working both New Year's Eve and New Year's day.

"White Christmas" is the most depressing Christmas song ever. You know why? Because today I wore shorts.

Here it is, the obligatory post of the Home-for-the-Holidays variety. This Christmas saw a small gathering of only 13 people crammed into the house (which, this year, was not ours, but an aunt's). Much festive cheer, merry making, over-cooking, over-eating, nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, couching, aching* fun was had. A few of the highlights:

Finding out that my Paupa is a closet pool shark, and was once known (in his much younger days) as Michigan Fats (bonus points if you catch the allusion - I didn't).

Having fun with my mother in all her too tall, too loud, too crazy glory.

Playing approximately 1200 games of Bitch Rummy with my little brother and sister. And kicking their asses Every. Single. Time. Seeing the crushed spirits in my sister's eyes after I lay down 4 aces is a joy which can be rivaled only by the fact that I won one game by a margin of 465 points.

Food. Oh, my god, food.

Devising elaborate puzzles, scavenger hunts, and other games which family members must go along with in order to find/open/figure out their present.

Finding out the title of the next HP 7: "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." *overwhelming amount of fangirl squee-age* Mild disappointment: my family living in the middle of slow dial up internet hell, causing me to find out about said title almost a week after the fact. I am a disappointment to the fandom, and I am sorry. It won't happen again. Rest assured that now that I have returned to the land of DSL, my obsessive HP news hoarding has begun again and is soaring to all new heights.

Going to the skating rink for the first time in 3 years and realizing yeah, i still got it. And then realizing that my siblings most emphatically do not. But sometimes it's more fun to fall anyway.

Spending the last couple hours before I fell asleep each night talking with JB. It's odd how talking over the phone can often prompt more profound and thought-provoking conversation than talking in person. Good talks, buster, good talks.

I watched football and knew exactly what was going on.

Realizing that though I'm not in the same place I was last year (far from it, actually), I am still happy, despite considerable changes in my life. And all through those changes, my crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful family has remained crazy, dysfunctional, and wonderful. I'm glad some things will never change.

Hope everyone had a lovely holiday. New Year's Eve is coming up - preparing another list-type post recapping the year and getting all nostalgic-like.

*stuffy-head fever, so you can rest and have a good morning medicine.

I believe you have my stapler.....

Public service announcement: For anyone who has ever eaten at a restaurant, please do not take the pen that your server gives you for the credit card clip. We only carry so many, and it would be a big help if you could just let us keep them. Especially the click-top ones, those are really convenient. And a big thank you to the lady at table 71 who, upon hearing of my plight concerning the two other tables who has taken my pens that day, left me not just one, but two extra pens on the table when she left. And the tip was great, too.

Happy holidays, all, especially fellow waiters (who are probably drowing in bad tip season at the moment). May your days be merry, tables have high turnover, and pens be bountiful.