The Fleeting Fancies of Fritsch

Danke schön!

2009-11-11T06:04:00.000-08:00

When I first saw the Thank-a-thon from ModCloth (there's your plug), I could immediately come up with a plethera of people and things for which I am quite thankful. I knew I had to come up with some broad concept, as opposed to one specific person or thing. At first, change, and the every present opportunity of change seemed like something I'm pretty darn thankful for.

I then remember that change I don't control scares the living daylights out of me. Sure, it's fun, exciting, and probably healthy, and I'm usually all for, heck, even thankful for change. But sometimes it stresses me out. So. Where does that leave me and my thankfulness?

Tradition (TRADITION!)

Sorry, Fiddler on the Roof moment.

Yeah, I know it seems stodgy and old-fashion, but when things go crazy-madness in this ever changing world it's nice to have those traditions to fall back to... kind of like that big hoodie you've had forever. It may not be fashionable, other people may not understand it, but man is it comfy.

This year I'm feeling particularly thankful for tradition, whether it's the weekly tradition of watching Project Runway with the roommies or having the family together for the holidays. I spent last year on study abroad in London, which is the kind of change I loved, but that meant I wasn't around my family for Thanksgiving. In fact, there was hardly a Thanksgiving. And the year before, my dad had just been laid off, the kind of change I am not down with, so he was on a solitary roadtrip when Thanksgiving rolled around. This year, my brother won't be with us because of a new job down in Texas. Even though we won't all be around the table this Thanksgiving, I will still be giving thanks for the tradition of all being together for Christmas, because Dad says that is a 22 year tradition that will not be broken any time soon.

Oh. And cookies. I am very VERY thankful for cookies and the fact that Mum makes an incomprehensible amount of them for every holiday, or for no reason at all.

And So It Goes

2009-09-17T08:34:00.000-07:00

The one thing that could have capped having my car towed and then spending over six hundred dollars on books last week?

Try driving home on Friday, pulling off the highway about 45 minutes from home, and realizing that my wallet/all modes of paying for gas were in my school bag in Kalamazoo. Yup, that's a fail.

Bienvenu

2009-09-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Kalamazoo/WMU/Life,

You know what? I was almost excited about coming back to school. This was going to be the second best year ever, the last one here, living with some lovely ladies, and doing my thing. I was going to forgive you for those two awful years you took from me.

But, no.

Nope, after a long day/night of unpacking and painting my room and then sleeping in the chair, I was greeted, not by my darling, little, silver Fit, Ethel, but by an empty spot. Nothing in the parking space, except for space. From my own apartment. Thanks for the welcome back gift.

Sigh.

Then, after a doom and gloom lecture about how none of us are going to be able to find a job once we graduate, I was sitting in the front (naturally) of a large lecture hall, and some DEPRAVED excuse for a human being spilled their caffeinated beverage right behind ME. This meant that I not only have stains on my bag, but I also spent the rest of the day smelling of rancid coffee.

Not to mention the quest to retrieve the car, which was in a league all its own. A scary, creepy, in the middle of a corn field league. Needless to say, we're lucky to be alive. Quote of the evening?
"It's like a James Bond film!"
"BUT WE'RE NOT JAMES BOND"

Anyway, thank you Kalamazoo for bringing me back into town with a bang; goodness knows I wouldn't want to slip and actually start to like the place.

Another Country Heard From

2009-08-31T18:50:00.000-07:00

So, I've discovered that sleeping and eating rank slightly higher than blogging in the last month and a half or so. All three are still below working, but I feel as though that's a given. In my defense, I did try to post an entry last Friday, but was thwarted when all hell broke loose while baby-sitting... and by all hell, I mean one of the kids forgot to eat/ I forgot to remind her to eat and I was confronted with her mother on the phone after she (the child) developed a migraine. Whoops.

Any-who... I may have drank an entire pot of coffee in a desperate attempt to feel more alive at work tonight, so I feel that blogging is a good choice. Tonight was basically madness. Seeing as it was only Monday, we only had two waitresses, one bartender, two cooks, but then we were bombarded by a swarm of customers. Nothing went terribly awry, though there was a point when the lights flickered and I thought we were going to loose power, but lets just say that ticket times were not quick by any means. Thank all that is good and holy there were no evil people in tonight, because let me tell you, there are evil people in this world and they do show up at my restaurant.

Speaking of which, I would just like to let people know a little something about waiting:

The cooks make the same amount of money no matter what they send out of that kitchen, where as your server is being paid 2.60/hour plus tips, please don't punish your waiter/waitress for the kitchen's mistakes.
I know you really like it when you leave exactly 15% or make your credit card bill come to a nice round number, but really? You can't spare the extra 53 cents to give us a round dollar?
Do not camp while I am trying to close up my side of the restaurant, stop ordering food, cash out, then leave me a 10% tip. Thanks.
Don't make your waitress cry.

Other updates? Scandalize is a word. I type faster when I'm hopped up on caffeine. And now I'm wondering why caffeine is spelled with the "e" before the "i", considering it is not directly following a "c", does not sound like "ay" like in "neighbor" and "weigh", and is not the word "weird".

Hmm. It seems to have come from 19th century French.

Epiphany

2009-07-10T09:26:00.000-07:00

Why I shouldn't have kids, Reason #73:

One cannot play Spring Awakening around children, not if you want them to stay out of trouble at school, anyway.

Anyway, had one of the scariest moments of my life the other day. I was nearly dine and dash-ed on. Scared the bujeezus out of me. This woman and her two kids come in to eat, nothing out of the ordinary, she gives me her debit card to pay... again, no prob. Then, I run it through. Twice. Nothing. Rejected both times. I had my manager talk to the customer about it, because I was not going to be the bearer of THAT bad news. She says she needs to go back home to get some cash, and my manager gives her the okay (apparently they were regulars and looked fairly trust-worthy).

It took ages for her to return, and I mean AGES. I know she didn't live that far away, seeing as she was wearing a Rogers Elementary t-shirt (that's where I went to school) and we discussed how her kids went there. Out of sheer desparation, I refused to bus her table until she came back. I finally broke down and cleared it, but I had just about given up hope when she came scuttling back in, paid the manager and scuttled out making feeble excuses. Oh well. She left a nice tip. Guilt can be such a beatiful thing.

Additions to stroller points:

Seeing visitors in more period appropriate clothes than you (+45 per person)
Having a visitor tell you you need a beer (-15)
Being physically touched by visitor (-20)
Thinking you're being photographed, then realizing the visitor is actually trying to get a picture of a squirrel (-70)

Magnificent

2009-07-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

I slept in today... well, if you count sleeping until 9:30 sleeping in, which I do. This may not seem very exciting to all of you, but this is the first time in about a month I've been able to.

I have (most) of the day off, and so does my dad, so we've decided to start our own country through the cunning use of flags, pikes, baked goods, and song. I shall be Empress Supreme and he will don the title of Benevolent Custodian. There will be much rejoicing and very little free will. All will be well. Oh, but we have to be done before his dentist appointment at 2:45, though we may just annex the dentist office into our country. Good dental care is a must, because you know that's what lost Great Britain their empire...

A Quick Word from Our Sponsors

2009-06-30T16:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, I usually do not condone two posts in one day... it just seems uncalled for and I would never assume that I have that many interesting things to say. This having been said, I needed to share this quote, exclaimed by a small boy-child in a shop.

"Something smells like incest!"

The sales assistant replied, "Incense?"

Sit

2009-06-30T11:00:00.000-07:00

The best part of house sitting? Perhaps it's being paid to bring in mail and feed the cat, or maybe it's being invited to eat anything in the house. Though these are wonderful things, I would have to say that the best part of living by myself in a house is the fact that I can change in the middle of the kitchen, if I so choose. And sometimes, I do so choose. Mostly, it's due to going from one job to another with so little time in between that going all the way upstairs to change from 1915 garb to waitressing khakis just seems silly.

The weirdest part about house sitting? That ridiculous cat. Luckily, the allergies haven't been too bad, but that animal follows me everywhere, which I do not appreciate. Especially when I want to take a shower and it gets in the bathtub. Why is there a cat in the bathtub? Doesn't that go against some law of physics? Stupid feline.

Have my first day off work in... well, in a while. God bless the rain.

Best quote from the Village:
"This is not Disney World, I can run you over." ~ Model T driver

Sniffle...Sniffle...Oink

2009-06-26T08:18:00.000-07:00

Ah, the accursed swine flu. Why are you so ridiculous? Not only did you take camp away from the MDA campers of America, but you have managed to shut up one of my favorite people in his room during one of the nicest times of the year. Shame on you! Soon, you may even give bacon a bad name.

What am I saying... bacon will never have bad connotations.

Yes, the swine flu has actually started to affect my life and the lives of those I love. It's quite unfortunate, and I am less than pleased. Other things that don't please me? Well, there's...
~the rare occurrence of EVERY responsible driver being on the road at the same time and driving IN FRONT of me
~loosing my favorite pair of sunglasses
~having one of the parents home while I'm technically babysitting
~not having a day off since June 9... and knowing that the next one isn't until July 3
~working in a corset in 90 degree (Fahrenheit) weather

To combat the woes caused by the last state of being, my dear stroller buddies and myself created the "Stroller Point System and Game" (catchier title to come). Here are just a few of the happenings that can either add or subtract points from a stroller couple.

Distracting the supervisor during briefing, making entrance into the village later (+5)
The absence of mean studio lady (+7)
The presence of mean studio lady (-15)
Calling 3rd or 4th lunch (+3)
Clumping with fellow strollers (+2, +5 if in the shade)
Visitors with fanny packs (+10)
Pictures (+2, + 3 if photographer is Asian)
Carrying on a full conversation with a visitor who does not speak English (+17)
Being asked if you're hot (-10)
Being asked if you're playing cricket while playing croquet (-5)
Being asked if you're playing quidditch while playing croquet (+73)
Spotting a trucker hat displaying a Confederate flag, stating "Git-er-done"(+100)
Getting caught by Sandra, the crazy stroller stalker (-43)
Avoiding Sandra before she sees you (+15)
Receiving a complement from a visitor with missing teeth (-12)
Having "Get back in the kitchen!" shouted at you while marching for women's suffrage (-6)
Having the man's significant other respond with verbal or physical abuse after aforementioned statement (+22)
Being told to take more breaks by a supervisor (+40)
Staying on break/lunch so long that a supervisor tells you to leave (-40)
Visitor with hickeys (depends on the individual and size of hickey)
Passing out/dying (FAIL)

Yesterday, my stroller partner and I saw a 50 point hickey.

We also weren't sure what the point value would be for being called "eye candy", but since it was a fellow employee and not a visitor, we decided it didn't count either way, though still creepy.

Helloooooooo Nurse

2009-06-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

Quick question:

What is it with creepy old men and nurses? It was Motor Muster at the Village this past weekend (an event that features cars dating from 1933 to1976) and, again, I was dressed as the World War II American Red Cross volunteer. In other words, I was a nurse. A nurse, apparently, who must have had a sign saying, "Please feel free to make dirty comments, follow me around, ask for CPR, take pictures of the seams in my nylons, and serenade me," somewhere on my body. Sure, I knew this was going to happen, considering I worked this even last year and am not laboring under the delusion that all men everywhere matured in the space of 12 months, but I truly did not expect it to be worse. It probably didn't help that I was strolling around with a sailor, increasing dirty comments and inspiring requests to recreate that famous photo... both with said sailor and even the requesters themselves.

Otherwise? I actually enjoy Motor Muster very much. I embrace being able to talk to men and women who were alive during WWII and want to tell me about it. Plus, we recreate a USO concert on Saturday evening, which involved a live band, swing dancing, and a faux radio broadcast stating that the Germans had surrendered. It's one of the few times a year I feel patriotic. Also, it has been decided by family, friends, and strangers alike, I completely missed my decade. I should have lived during the 1940's. This is no surprise to me, for I have always felt that I was supposed to be a ginger Brit during World War II, and though I've accomplished the first, and am working on the second, I think that Motor Muster is the closest I'm going to get to the third. Wearing fairly fantastic clothes is probably going to be the best I can do, at least as far as real life goes.

My goodness, this is not so fleeting, is it? Well, here are a few thoughts on things that make me happy, for one must find the little things in life that are amusing.

Excelerating in the car while "Don't Stop Me Now" is playing. (They don't actually mean in when it says 55 MHP)
Seeing The Hangover with my father and brother.
The Imperial March in hand farts... pure youtube gold.
The fact that "youtube" is not spell checked.
Buying fake eyelashes at 7:30 in the morning on the way to work.
Going into the bank in full early twentieth century regalia.

A note on that last one. A woman in the bank asked me if I worked at Greenfield Village, and I smiled and responded that I did. I think the next time that happens I'm going to look confused and say, "No... Why?"

Whistle While You Work

2009-06-17T19:21:00.000-07:00

I sometimes think that at least some small percentage of insane people started out as normal, bored people. They started making things up to make their lives more interesting, and then got so carried away, the line between reality and the fun lies start to blur. Example: Sometimes Dad pays for out groceries mostly in ones, looks at the cashier and says, "You don't need to ask, I am a stripper," and then when they look to me to see if he's joking, I stare them straight in the eye and nod solemnly. I'm worried we may start believing it one day.

The other day when I woke up one of the girls I sit for, the first thing she said to me was, "Are you team Jacob or team Edward." I immediately responded that I was team Edward. Should I be worried that I not only knew what she was talking about, but also had no pause before the response? Then today, she (age 11) and her sister (age 9) talked about how they were excited for the New Moon movie because of the shirtless actors. I don't approve.

Something to think about: "By the way"... what is the origin of that phrase?

Although my allergies were scads better today (thank you knock-off Claratin + Benadryl), my throat is still all wonky, so I can't sing. Unfortunately, I would forget this fact every ten minutes, burst into song (like I do), and simply squeak. So I whistled.

Cake or Death?

2009-06-16T14:19:00.001-07:00

At this point, I think I would take death. No need to put me on suicide watch, just get rid of the cat. That's right, I started my other two jobs not too long ago (hence the break in entries) and I was reminded that the family I babysit for three times a week has a cat. To which I am quite allergic. True, they did have this cat at the end of last summer, but I don't think the evil cat dander had quite infiltrated the entire house by the time I left for uni. Well, it has now. I sneezed so much yesterday, my face hurt. And, really, what is the point of allergies? I know WHAT allergies are, but I want to know WHY allergies are. Are they a punishment for misdeeds in a former life? The more puppies you killed and fat kids you teased, the more things you're allergic to? If that's the case, I must have been one puppy-killing, fat kid-poking wench, because normally pleasant, useful things are constantly trying to kill me. Like cats, basic flora, penicillin, the sun, and cantaloupe. Okay, I get the sun can be potentially harmful anyway, and penicillin is made from mold, so that almost makes sense, but cantaloupe? What purpose does cantaloupe giving me an itchy mouth serve?

In other news, the summer season started at the Village (that's Greenfield Village, America's Greatest History Attraction), and my body has yet to get used to the corset. It's only been two days, though.

The restaurant is going pretty well, though I'm starting to become obsessed with tip amounts, and become fairly peeved when a table I've waited on perfectly gives me a crappy tip... especially if I can see on the credit card slip that they wrote a number, crossed it out, then wrote a lower number. Not pleased.

Blast from the Past

2009-05-29T10:29:00.000-07:00

My first grade teacher came into the restaurant today.

When you're studying to become a teacher, do they have special courses in how to remember former students and their parents? Because she actually recognized my dad and asked how I was doing. He then told her she could ask me myself because I was also working. Apparently I haven't changed a bit over the last 14 odd years. "Still the same smile and bubbly personality." That's a good thing, right? That I am still the spitting image of my seven-year-old self? Minus the horrendous bowl cut, of course.

That's Not Even a Word

2009-05-28T18:37:00.000-07:00

You know, one would think that if a costumer told you, "I appreciate your cheerful laid-backness" and you catered on his every whim with your signature smile plied across your face while he just sat in one of your best booths, he would give you more than a 15% tip. One would think that, but that would be incorrect. Oh, well. At least I was able to sell him a Heart for Hope (one of those pieces of paper that signifies you donated a dollar to the Leukemia Foundation), during which he proclaimed, "Ah! That makes sense. You're the bringer of hope." Interesting.

One of my co-workers (the very same who, not only told me I was a natural at filling tiny cups with dressing, but also dropped an electrical appliance into a full sink of water, then reached in for it) asked me today how I could be so happy, especially after being in London for a year. I simply turned to her, beamed, and stated, "That's the beautiful thing about acting." I'm not quite sure she understood what I meant.

Do you ever have those moments where you look at your parents, reflect on what great people they are and how good they've been to you, and then decide you hope you never EVER end up living a life like theirs? I mean, they seem to be happy, so more power to them, but my mom comes home and talks about church ladies and gardening. I do not want to talk about church ladies and gardening.

The Natural

2009-05-25T06:56:00.001-07:00

I don't know how I feel about the fact that the girl who trained me at the restaurant came up to me while I was filling souffle cups with dressing and told me I was a natural. Is that a compliment? Should I be worried that there were people in the world/in that building who are NOT naturally good at spooning honey mustard or ranch into tiny, plastic cups without making a complete mess or misjudging the amount? Sure, I've been known to mess up some fairly simple tasks before, but I consider myself a quick learner and eventually sort it out. Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm a "natural" at restaurant prep work, because that may be something I'm doing for a while.

Hello, my name is...

2009-05-20T09:39:00.000-07:00

I find it fairly disconcerting when people know things about me before I tell them. I'm not talking about that unfortunate facebook phenomenon, which makes normal conversation almost impossible because everyone already read about it online. No, I'm talking about meeting completely new people and finding out that they already know, not only my name, but that I've spent the entire last year in London, that I go to Western Michigan, but not for theatre, that I may be working up to four jobs this summer, and so on and so forth. I guess that's the occupational hazard of starting a job where your dad works and living in a city where almost everyone knows not only your parents, but your Grams, and at least some of your aunts/uncles/cousins. Ah, to be a Fritsch.

The thing is, I was used to it while I was going to school here. When my activities actually took place within my hometown, it seemed natural that my friends' parents or the people I went to church with knew what show I was doing or where I was going to university. Heck, everyone knew everything about everyone's kids. We were/are that type of community. I just thought it might ease up a bit when the happenings were taking place on the other side of the state or the other side of the ocean. I know it's just people being friendly when meeting my parents in the ailse at the grocery store or making small talk at work, but it still weirds me out a bit. We'll see how this plays out now that I'm working at the local burger place.

In the Beginning

2009-05-16T12:23:00.000-07:00

Well, this is hardly the beginning, but it is the beginning of this blog. This is going to be the account of my endeavor to end up on some sort of stage, somewhere. That's the long term goal, and most of these posts will probably have little to do with that quest specifically. No, this is going to be about the randomness that fills my life because I either a) need money so that I can send myself to drama school or b) am in the most uselessly trivial major to appease my parents as a back up plan. Because it is currently summer, mostly the former will be represented.

What am I doing for money? Nothing too sketchy, I promise you that. I have three, possibly four jobs to occupy my time and fill my bank account this summer:

Waitress at the local burger joint- at first glance this may seem terribly cliche, and that assessment would be correct. I can walk to the place from my childhood home, I work with (among others) people I went to high school with, one of whom is pregnant, and my dad is the bar tender. It may not be the ideal job, but I figure I need to know how to wait tables, and it is a lovely reminder of why I need to get out of here.

Historical Presenter- yeah, it's a little bit different from the last one. I walk around an outdoor historical museum dressed in early twentieth century clothing (this includes a corset) and talk to people. It almost seems close to the whole acting thing, but I don't have a person I'm pretending to be, so don't show up and try to make me "break character". I am basically a walking information kiosk in a pretty costume. I do get paid to play croquet, though, which is pretty sweet.

Babysitting- the old standby for anyone who wants to make a quick, tax-free buck. I have been sitting for this family for going on five years now, I think, and it's been very disconcerting to watch two girls grow up in the new millennium. I watch them three days a week, and it will be interesting to see what pop culture will dictate for us this summer.

All other time will be spent doing other odd babysitting gigs, possibly picking up my old job at the Gap, working out, and possibly eating/sleeping. I would also like to learn how to play the guitar, ride a unicycle, or some other fabulous skill that I can add to my "special talents"... you know, in my free time. Really, who needs to sleep?