This is what I do at work

8 Aug

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Being a hostess is either very busy, or very slow. Thank goodness there is paper to doodle on.

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What our servers do.

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What our bussers do.

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Jay hates outside tables with a passion.

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And then there’s the sushi chefs….

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This is what I do at work

8 Aug

image

Being a hostess is either very busy, or very slow. Thank goodness there is paper to doodle on.

image

What our servers do.

image

What our bussers do.

image

Jay hates outside tables with a passion.

image

And then there’s the sushi chefs….

Couple Keychain

2 Aug

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About a week ago I found this couple keychain set at Claire’s in the mall, and my subconscious went; “THIS!!! THIS!!! THIS!!!” …and I bought it yesterday >///< It's magnetic, so they swing together when near eachother.

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(…yes, that is a bannana in the background.)

Decided!

30 Jul

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I finally decided on the doll I want – Something I’ve wanted for a few years now. I won’t be ordering it for a while though, but I did dig up some of my Re-ment stuff.

It’s a thrill really, because this will be the doll I carry with me often.

Hmm…. my first paychecks?

27 Jul

I recently was hired to work at a sushi bar, and got the first two paychecks of my life. So what did I do? I went out and bought some manga, and subscribed to Shonen Jump Alpha for my phone.

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///I’m such a dork.

Changes

21 Mar

 

                To those of you who have followed me in the past, I thank you. Now, more than a year later, I have found the courage to begin blogging once more.

                Much has changed in the past year. I started and ended many loves and opportunities of mine. The me who wanted to play college sports, and was engaged to the sport of softball, no longer exist. There is no need of you to be burdened with the trials I have dealt with, but it suffices to say that I miss the life I led, but am grateful, and not bitter for what I had and what I have now.

                 At the beginning of the 2010-2011 academic school year, there was a scheduling error and I was put into the school choir. The me, who had sworn never to stand on a stage again, meant to drop, but am man referred to as Mr B. is the reason I am currently enrolled in Music. In the spring, March 2011, it was revealed that my school was opening a fine arts institute, where music students would be able to take private music lessons and other benefits after meeting requirements. Though my motives were not the purest, I applied and was accepted for voice (as my instrument). My choir teacher, as previously mentioned, left the school at the end of this school year, causing tears and confusion in the music department.

                And so my Softmore year of high school ended.

                Tennis season came and went, and I met the new Choir teacher, Mr A. This young man earned my respect, and like my previous teacher, I more than likely will never be able to thank nor show how much of an influence they have had on me. I ended up running sound board for the fall musical, and seriously pursuing my vocal studies. It was around this time that I entered a depression.

                At the semester change, I decided to join orchestra to help improve my skills in music. (Let’s be honest – vocalists can’t count to save their lives unless they’re a conductor or play an instrument.) I selected the cello for various reasons, including another student of the Fine Arts Academy whom I hold respect for. I quickly became passable as a member in the lower orchestra after spending hours after school each week practicing,wrestling to catch up with the other students who have been playing for many years. Remarkably I practiced enough to be selected for Chamber Orchestra for my Senior year, though this makes me continue to practice even more, for I am not yet at the level of Chamber Orchestra.

                Yet Softball season will never come again for me. As I travel to my college classes in the afternoon and evenings, I pass by the fields on which my team plays. Very soon games will start and it will take all of my energy to not start crying as I watch the place where I dedicated all of my heart to pass me by. My Home Health aid class will end in May, and I will be put into the State Nurse Registry, and will be licensed as a Health Aide. In a month I will have my HSK scores, a Mandarin-Chinese proficiency test.

                And so we see that life moves onward.

                I was cleaning and stumbled upon my figmas and nendoriod petits two weeks ago, and I never had the heart to sell or donate them. I never thought I would have the heart to begin again taking photos, but I was overcome with love for them. I have a habit, as so many of us do, of writing down thoughts or writing a journal for a few pages before stopping and them stashing them away in an unseen place. During said cleaning, I found the fourth-grade me who wanted to be an astronaut, the seventh-grade me who wanted to open a cafe. The nineth-grade (Freshman) me who wanted to be an athletic trainer. The second-grade me who wanted to be a teacher. The four-year-old me, who would never say it aloud, that wanted someone to call her ‘Princess’.

                The person I am now is not the person I was two years ago, or even a year ago. As a completely different person from the one who first sat down and started typing back on Sayan Millaray, or the girl who went as LilSeebs, I wish to start as a different person. Both Sayan Millaray and LilSeebs are an important part of me, but they are me no longer. I want to be recognized as those girls, but wish to never again be known to be them.

                This blog is the symbol of my change. I am not committing to “Twice a week” posts, or trying to make this blog as popular as my means allow. I simply wish to have an output, for I fear the cold emptiness creeping back into my life. I never again wish to exist as a being who refuses to die, but cannot find a way to live.

Thank you for reading.