Sometimes I have this bizarre desire to be a waitress. Because I’m an anal overachieving freak, and I’ve had the idea for quite some time that if I were a waitress, I’d be a totally awesome waitress and people would beg to be at my table because I’d take such good care of them and they’d always have full glasses of the icy cold beverage of their choice and I’d bring their food to them piping hot and they’d joke around with me and know me by name and stuff dollar bills into my g-stri—-…

…wait.

Actually it seems like I want to be a stripper.

Whew. As you saw in the last lame entry, I am back home after a whirlwind beach weekend. Here’s a recap.

Thursday
Left work around 4:00, which was an hour later than planned but Ginny had been stuck on an errand and didn’t get to my office ’till then. We moved all her stuff into my car and hit the road. Got to the hotel around 8:30 or so, changed clothes, ran across the street to the beach (which was actually the Chesapeake Bay, but still). Stuck our feet in, wrote in the sand with our toes, splashed and in general had a fun time. Our hotel was mere blocks from a bad part of town. We drove right into that bad part of town at 10 pm and headed to McDonald’s for some food. The creepy dudes at the bus stop whistled and yelled stuff at us as we walked in and out of the place. Back to the hotel. Watched some TV. Spent the first of three restless nights with too many people (some of them loud snorers) crammed into a room with piss-poor A/C. I’m not a light sleeper by any stretch of the imagination, but the combination of elements made for lots of waking up and pacing around.

Friday
Drove around a lot. Went to the naval base and dropped Mom, Dad, and Ginny off for the base tour. Took Sam and Jay back to the hotel. In the afternoon we changed and went to the beach across the street, where we had fun and got burned. Someone recommended this restaurant to us, so we ate there. Good times were had by all. Back to the hotel for another night of restless sort-of-sleep.

Saturday
We spent the morning in the hotel pool and in the afternoon drove down to the resort area of VABEACH. Got tossed around in the big waves. Became progressively more sunburned. Listened to some yuppie wives try to outdo one another with tales of frailty and backstab their children’s friend (as the friend was still walking away, even). Waited in line forever for the beach shower. Got Slurpees. Drove back. Crashed in the room, fast food dinner, repeat of restless night.

Sunday
Got up early and took Sam and Jay to Busch Gardens (their third time in a week, my first). Roped them into riding the tamest roller coaster in the park. Promised never to make them ride a roller coaster again. Rode a few more rides, ate some overpriced food, sweated like pigs, got way tired, decided to hit the road.

And hours later we were home.

Wow, for as tired as I am today, it seems like I didn’t do jack. Anyway.

Okay, and this is weird – I thought I posted this and then I went downstairs to work on something. That was like a half-hour ago. I’m back. It’s still here. My brain doesn’t work.

From my alma mater’s web site:

Security Alert

July 23, 2003

Community Crime Alert

On July 22 at approximately 9:45 p.m. an incident occurred on the third floor of the University Library. A female student was conducting research in the library when a man approached her and asked for help with a research project. The victim was led to a secluded room. The offender informed the victim that he was going to hypnotize her and then did so. He then spoke to and touched the victim in an inappropriate manner. The victim was able to leave the room at that point.

The offender who fled the area was described as a white male, approximately five feet, six inches tall, medium build, dark hair, with bad acne and approximately 20-25 years old. Anyone with information about this offender or with information about a similar experience is asked to contact University Police. The emergency number is 911 and the non-emergency number is xxx-xxxx.

Is it bad that I find this to be completely bizarre, and just a little bit funny? The write-up, I mean. I’m sure the incident was quite scary.

Okay. So my car is packed for the beach. Except for Ginny’s stuff, but if she forgets anything that’s not my problem. I have a Kodak Funsaver Camera in the top of my beach bag, waiting anxiously for me to use it to take lots of cool pictures on the road and at the beach, and I’ll post anything worthwhile after I get it developed.

I don’t get the whole Funsaver thing. Does Kodak not want me to have TOO much fun taking pictures, so it’s saving me some of the fun? So basically it’s NOT fun to use a Funsaver? I just don’t know. But I have 27 chances to not have fun, and I’ll see what comes of them.

I don’t have any money to spend while I’m there, but that’s okay. You don’t need a lot of cash to sprawl on a beach. Someone’s probably written a country song like that, actually.

We’re not actually going to be in Virginia Beach proper – the hotel is in Norfolk, apparently right across the street from the beach. My parents chose this place and I’m slightly worried that the “beach” across the street will be covered in hypodermic needles and ship fuel. We shall see.

It’ll be my first road trip in my zoomy blue car, and I just remembered last night that said zoomy blue car did not come with zoomy blue cruise control, although it did come with the zoomy blue sunroof and the zoomy blue spoiler and the zoomy blue CD changer/tape deck combo, so I should quit complaining. Luckily it’s a short trip.

It is an absolutely stunning, perfect day here, by the way. Blue sky, very low humidity, sunny, not too hot, nice gentle breeze. It’s the kind of day that makes even the worst moods improve.

I’m taking the laptop on the trip, which is probably a mistake, but my dad begged me to bring it so that – get this – he can try to be one of the first 50 people to check his email on Friday and win VIP passes to the Denver Broncos training camp. Not that he’s going to be able to go or anything. When I was a kid in Colorado, we lived about fifteen minutes from the training camp, and people used to go and bring picnic blankets and coolers and stuff and sit on the hills and watch the team practice and scrimmage. Afterwards, most players would hang around and sign autographs, talk to the fans, et cetera. I was all about some John Elway, duh, but he almost never stayed after practice. [Note: It has just been pointed out to me that I accidentally referred to John Elway as John Denver. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me these days...I didn't even catch that when I was proofreading.] Karl Mecklenberg did, though, and he was always very friendly. So was famous barefoot former kicker Rich Karlis, who kissed my sister on the cheek – a story that is still told. Ahh, memories.

Anyway, the point was that although I’ll have a computer, I’m going to try not to use it, because then I’ll be tempted to check work email and do actual work. So. If I don’t write again before this afternoon, I hope each and every one of you has a super weekend.

Ginny told me this story last night, and I gave her 12 hours to make an entry about it, and she didn’t, so I’m stealing the story. It’s just too good not to share.

She got her hair cut last weekend, I believe at C0st Cutters. While she was sitting in the chair, a woman with reasonably short hair came in. When the woman’s stylist asked what she wanted to do with it, the woman said, “I thought I’d keep it short on top and let it grow out in the back.”

M-U-L-L-E-T, anyone?

She continues: “You know, like that guy from Journey. What’s his name?”

Someone (it might have been my sister) says, “Steve Perry?”

The woman says, “Yeah, him. I want it to look like that. Can you do that?”

At which point Ginny leans over to her stylist and says, “She did NOT just ask for a Steve Perry hair cut.”

But apparently, she did.

Because nothing is classier on a woman in the year 2003 than this:

Seriously. Only in the South. And not at my salon – that’s for damn sure.

Also, check here for ten ways I’d never begin an entry.