Receipt Art: February 25, 2012

This is Montana and Montana can be cold as shit - though this winter has actually been unseasonably warm for the most part.  Even the owls need to bundle up and get out the scarves and earmuffs.  Ok, so I'm actually full of shit.  Owls are animals and animals suck it up and deal with things like weather.  Luckily, receipt art owls do whatever I want them to do.  That's how all this happened.

Yup, I think he's pretty adorable.  The only part I don't find so adorable is the fact that his scarf is blowing the opposite direction of my cute wind swirlies.  Must be one of those fake wire situations like they did with the flag that's on the moon.  Whatever.

  

Twenty-Seven

I'm on highway 27, bitches.  CREDIT.

Tomorrow is February 23^rd.  Or depending on when you’re reading this, today is February 23^rd.  Either way, this means I am turning a year older.  Like women tend to do, I already had my breakdown.  Driving around with Dreamy unsuccessfully searching for an outfit to “make me feel pretty,” I broke into tears as I navigated from the mall to my favorite local boutique.  It was classic “women turning twenty-seven.”  It was inevitably horrible it seemed.

I went through all the usual feelings amidst my sobs.  I wasn’t going anywhere.  I had no direction.  I was the oldest Hooters Girl trying to keep up with girls who couldn’t even legally have a drink yet.  My high school friends were all married and having babies and decorating fabulous little starter homes.  I was just an old, unmarried waitress well on my way to being a cat lady.

Now the point of all this isn’t to show you how sorry I’m feeling for myself.  What’s it’s really about is that I had my moment and proceeded to get over it.  Yup, I cried.  Actually, I bawled in a way that was anything but attractive.  But I also realized how ridiculous I was being.  I realized that though I’ll be older, I will not be old.

Yes, I’ll be turning twenty-seven, but at twenty-eight I’ll have an MBA.  I’m also in the best shape of my life, not because I’m eighteen and have a metabolism that is on fire, but because I work my ass off and take great care of myself.  Yes, I’m almost twenty-seven, but I am dedicated, motivated and going places.  I just don’t know where those places are yet.

But you know what?  I’m pretty excited to find out.

Receipt Art: Because I Got Called Out

Because I love my readers, when Confessions of A Hairdresser from Hair Raising Hell said the following in response to my last post I couldn't just ignore that shit: 

I, personally, happen to be hoping for the return of a receipt art from hiatus. Receipt art is one of my few simple pleasures that I look forward to on the internet.  

I hope for something with a palm tree, and perhaps a sexy Hawaiin lady or two. Something to beat the winter blues...

So here you go, Hairdresser.  I missed the palm tree, but I nailed the crap out of that sexy Hawaiian hula lady.  In fact I think she's pretty damn adorable.

She'll hula right into your heart.

So thank you for inspiring me to be more awesome.  I owe ya one.

I'm a Disappointment

Yesterday I logged into my Formspring account and was greeted by a question that asked if I still worked at Hooters.  I won't get all specific, because parts of the question were rambling as eff, but basically it amounted to where the hell I've been and what I've been doing.  You see, I've been sucking as a blogger.  It's sad, but so very true.

So what the hell have I been doing?  Well, yes, I am still working at Hooters three to four days a week.  Usually I work Friday-Sunday with an occasional weekday evening shift.  It's business as usual, bitches.

What else I've been doing

• Attending graduate classes Monday - Thursday.
• Hitting the gym twice a day, five days a week.  Once a day, one to two days a week.
• Beginning three new blogging projects.  One for a college sports site.  One for I Want Her Job.  One for the easiest class in the world where my semester long project is to create a blog as if I've never done that before.
• Preparing and eating seven meals a day because I'm doing another fitness contest.
• Trying to find some time in there to be lazy and actually enjoy the act of living.

All of this serves to tell you that I am busy as shit and really good at making excuses.  It's a gift.  Anyway, I do have blogs planned and I do plan on being more regular about posting.  I've even noted it in my planner.  That's serious shit, friends.

P.S. I love you.

Wintertimes

We had some snow here recently.  In fact, we had enough snow that the county declared a snow day.  Schools were closed for two days straight.  To put this in prospective, I've spent the entirety of my educational career in Montana school systems and never ONCE had a snow day.  I've seen more snow than I know what to do with, but none of it kept me from school.  This is Montana and that's just the way it is.

Now where did I leave that bike again?

Of course Hooters wasn't closed.  Snow may stop school, but it doesn't stop wings.  We're like the U.S. Postal Service only with different uniforms and alcohol.  Snow or more snow Hooters doesn't give a shit.

So enjoy these pictures of the snow.  These were taken at about the halfway point of the storm on a night of "totally sober" fun.  That's the beauty of living three blocks from downtown, you can go out when cars have been asked to stay off the road.  I call that appropriate planning.  By the way, blizzards don't keep bars closed either.  That's some valuable knowledge, my friends.

Normally a busy, main street.

Shit happens in the snow.

And don't forget to enter my Shoes for Crews Giveaway!  You could win a pair of shoes of your choosing.  And lets be honest, free is good.

Just submit a picture of your shoes and let me know why you need a new pair.  Enter by EMAIL or submit your photo via FACEBOOK!

CLICK HERE for more information on the giveaway.

Shoes For Crews and a GIVEAWAY

February is awesome.  This awesomeness comes from the fact that it features a holiday celebrating chocolate – whether you’re single or not in my opinion – and because February marks my birthday.  So basically February is a month of sugary goodness for Sauce.  Happy girl.

So since I get presents this month (all I could think of to ask for was workout clothes – seriously), I figure it’s fair to start February with a giveaway.  That way you can get presents too!  Only you have to work for yours.  I mean I’m nice, but not THAT nice.

Initially not impressed.

Recently, I was approached by Shoes For Crews to review their products.  Now, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know how cheap I am, certainly cheap enough to jump on any opportunity that includes the word free.  So I checked out the site - which features a crazy wide selection of slip resistant work shoes - and decided on a sweet pair of Old School Low-Riders in white.

I picked the Low-Riders because they were the cutest thing on the website.  While I would have preferred to order something I could wear on the floor at Hooters, the strict uniform policy wouldn’t allow me to do so.  So I ordered the shoes and waited.

Shipping was fast, but when my shoes got here my first reaction was that the packaging was janky as shit.  Actually it wasn’t so much packaging as the shoebox simply taped shut and put in the mail.  Not initially impressed.  But I gave the shoes a chance, opened the box and legitimately fell in love as soon as I put them on my feet.  In fact I liked them so much initially that I quickly decided the shipping was not simply janky, but rather environmentally conscious.  It’s all about perception.

Then I put the shoes to the test.  I picked up a casino attendant shift at work – where we wear black slacks, t-shirts and any shoes we want – and laced up my new shoes.  To give you a little side information, our casino features a tile floor that is perhaps the most slippery surface in the world.  Even the smallest puddle can make you eat shit on that floor.  So I did the best test I could think of and spilled water all over the tile so I could run into it.  I was a workmen’s comp nightmare.

My shoes lookin' all good.

I spilled the water, I backed up and I ran.  And I ran right through.  It was like Jesus walking on water; I had done the impossible.  After that it didn’t matter that my feet were happy the whole eight hours I was standing on them, I was already impressed.

For the record, I was fully prepared to hate these shoes.  The packaging sucked and frankly I picked a style that, in other brands, is known to be uncomfortable.  But it turns out I totally love them and see myself wearing them both inside and outside of work.  The look really cute with skinny jeans, like a non-slip hipster.

Since I’m a convert, I’m also here to convert you!  I have FOUR pairs of these babies to give to my readers.  I’ll be likely giving them away a few different ways, but here’s what you can do for the first two:

Show me why you need new shoes.  Email a picture – or upload one on my Facebook – of your current shoes.  Also feel free to leave a compelling plea for why you really need a new pair of kicks.  An esteemed panel of judges (me, Dreamy, Ariel, my sister) will pick two winners.

Deadline for submissions is Friday, February 10 at 11:59 PM MST

EMAIL YOUR PICTURE HERE

UPLOAD YOUR PICTURE TO FACEBOOK HERE

Divert Your Eyes, Dude

Because nothing says fitness like lifting in the nude.
CREDIT.

I workout.  When I say this, I don’t mean that I do excessive amounts of cardio followed by even more cardio and a splash of abs.  While I do enjoy cardio intervals, I also spend my gym time lifting weights.  I’m talking dumbbells, barbells and maybe even real bells if it could make me look like a badass.  I’m a firm believer that lifting free weights has actually made me thinner and has definitely made me happier in my own skin, but that is of course another story.

At the gym where I workout, it’s rare to see a woman lifting free weights.  Generally I’ll be the only girl hefting the heavy stuff.  If I’m not, it’s usually me and this one middle-aged lady who is a complete and utter badass.  Either way, I am in the minority.

Given the lack of females in the weight area, I occasionally get a look or two.  This is either because I’m awesome, because I have a propensity for spandex shorts, or likely both.  Usually people will look over and look away.  It’s just human nature at that point; a normal occurrence that is really just people watching at its finest.

But sometimes, shit just gets creepy.  A glance turns into a prolonged looked and a prolonged look turns into an awkward stare.  It goes from acceptable to completely unnerving. 

A few days ago, I was doing some lifting and had that feeling of being stared at.  It only took a half second scan of the gym for my eyes to meet those of a bearded gentleman in his 50s or 60s.  I looked away nearly as quickly as I locked eyes with him.  Usually this is enough.  After a person is caught gawking, their eyes usually immediately divert to something else in a poor attempt to avoid being caught in the first place.

But that didn’t happen.  I could still feel the stare and as I looked up again his eyes continued to pry.  I became increasingly uncomfortable as I grabbed a new set of weights and continued my workout.  As I started lifting again I realized the staring wasn’t about to stop.  So I looked up, met his eyes and didn’t blink.  I was going to call his bluff.

Or I thought I was.  He just. Kept. Staring.  So I finally freaked out and dramatically mouthed, “Stop staring at me!”

And that’s just what he did.  He finally got a clue and I moved across the gym.  To work on my creep repellent gums of course. 

Some People Shouldn't Have Phone Privileges

This would have been a much better use of my phone
on Sunday afternoon.  CREDIT.

On Sunday I received two calls at work that both left me speechless.  Welcome to the world of answering the phone at Hooters.

Sauce:  “It’s a hooterific day at Hooters of Missoula!  This is Sauce, how can I help you?”

Probably Drunk Person:  “Yeahss, juz wonderin’ if the Hooters is open on Sun-Sa-weekends.”

Sauce:  “We’re open everyday of the week!”

Probably Drunk Person:  “Sooooo, you’rzz open then?  Righ now?”

Sauce:  “Yup, we’re here!”

What I actually wanted to say:  “It’s a pretty good indication that we’re open when someone answers the phone within the first three rings.  If you ask the question twice and the answer is still yes than we are definitely open.  Figure it the eff out.”

Believe it or not, like pretty much every other chain restaurant in the world, Hooters is open seven days a week.  Regardless, it’s a fairly novel concept it would seem.  Next time, get your drunk ass to the Internet and save yourself the embarrassment by finding the answer there.  The Google Machine can do anything.

The second conversation was even more ridiculous than the first.

Sauce:  “It’s a hooterific day at Hooters of Missoula!  This is Sauce, how can I help you?”

Man:  “Um, who’s playing football today?”

Sauce:  “Well today are the AFC and NFC championship games.”

Man:  “Oh sweet!  And who plays in those?”

Sauce:  “The early game is the Ravens and Patriots and the later game is the 49ers and Giants.”

Man:  “Great!”

Seriously.  If you have to call HOOTERS and ask a GIRL who is playing on the second biggest weekend of football we have some serious issues.  In fact, I believe that’s grounds to have your man card revoked completely.  I mean I know not everyone is in to football, but if you have enough interest to call to enquire who is playing that you have enough interest to not have to call in the first place.  Once again I suggest the Google Machine because it won’t make fun of you on the Internet like I just did.

All jokes aside, I don’t mind answering questions no matter how ridiculous.  But it’s a damn good thing I know my football.