Wait, what's this? Where am I?

Well damn, it has been a while.  I mean a really long while.  There is much catching up to do, but today is not that day.  Today is the day that if I don't get out what is going on in my head I may lose my mind.

Honestly, I'm not even sure where to begin, my thoughts are going a million miles a minute and I can't seem to put them in check, but let's not beat around the bush....

The fuck is wrong with people??  Something I can't and have never been able to understand is prejudice, racism.  How in the hell can you hate a whole group of people based off the color of their skin?  How can you possibly feel superior due to a difference in pigmentation?
Personally, if I'm going to hate someone, or treat them as less than equal, it's going to be who they are as a person that determines that, not their genetic lineage.  Plain and simply put, if you're a bad person/asshole, IDGAF what color you are, I'm going to treat you accordingly; on the opposite side of the coin, if you are a good/loving person, IDGAF what color you are, I'm going to treat you accordingly.  That rule is applied equally to each individual person.  Just because you're a douche nozzle, doesn't mean your mom, your sister, or your neighbor's, brother's, roommate's little cousin is.

For the slower learners in the audience let me put it like this...
Let's say I'm walking through the woods, and I see the fattest, cutest beaver hanging out, you know, doing beaver things (probably planning world domination via 5G waves and a superior Beaver Naval force).  Well, because I'm practically a damn Disney Princess and have to make friends with all the woodland creatures, I approach said beaver, all the happiness right?  WRONG!!!  Instead of birds joining me in a melodic tune about love and handsome princes, the damn beaver goes rabid and bites my leg.  So now I'm up in the ER trying to explain to a cute doctor how I managed to get bitten by a rabid beaver.  Pain, embarrassment, a nasty set of shots, and huge medical bills later, I've recovered.  Guess what?  I don't like that beaver very much, and if I were to ever see it again, I might turn it into a nice hat, or possibly a chic lampshade that I later sell on Etsy.   However, I don't dislike all beavers.  I'm not going to try to make home furnishing creations out of every beaver I see..  You know why?  Because not every beaver is rabid, not every beaver is going to bite me, and not every beaver is the Admiral of the Beaver Naval Fleet.  The rest of the beaver population need not atone for the sins of the one.

"But Amanda", you might say (and we will pretend you did for the purpose of this paragraph) "what if it wasn't just one beaver?  What if there was a whole group of beavers who plotted against you and used the one for bait so they could all bite you ?"  I would say to you two things... The first being, I really wish I knew what I did to piss off those beavers.  Secondly, I still wouldn't hold the many accountable for the actions of the few. 

The same holds true for people.  We are all individuals, with rare exceptions, the one or the few does not represent the entire whole.

Yes, there are a plethora of evil people out there, evil people OF ALL ETHNICITIES with nothing but nefarious intentions, but just as many wonderful, amazing, selfless people OF ALL ETHNICITIES.

For as advanced, and "intelligent" as we are, we as a species, seem unable to grasp the basic concept that we are just that, ONE SPECIES, all humans, no matter the color of the packaging.  We all have known joy, pain, and fear, and we should all offer each other at minimum, basic HUMAN decency,  if not respect.  If we can't come together and do at least that, are we really any better than the rest of the animal kingdom that we claim superiority over?

                                                                    

Bartender 101: Don't get too attached

One of the most awesome things about being a bartender is that you get to meet all sorts of interesting people.  You make connections with people that you might not with in other situations; being the bartender forces you to associate with people you normally wouldn't if you were just out socializing (which can be good and bad). I've met some truly amazing people this way, people that I hold dear and care about deeply.  In fact I had a visit from a few of those people last night, made my otherwise bad night so much better.  I hope at least one of them read this and know who I am talking about.  Just in case they do, thank you, I love you guys.

Assuming that most of the people that read this aren't incredibly familiar with the area in which I operate, it's tiny and rural.  A little valley surrounded by beautiful mountains, with alfalfa and cotton fields for as far as the eye can see. A few tiny towns mushed together, kept alive by copper mining.    To say the least, local bars thrive on "regulars" (with the exception of the occasional contractor influx).  The upside of this being that you really get to know your customers. Life becomes easier, you know what they drink, and their behavior is usually predictable, you know who the trouble makers are, and you can also make some great friends. The downside of this being, you really get to know your customers and make some great friends. Normally, making friends is considered a good thing, I know, but when you're a bartender in a small town, it tends to be a double edged sword.

Before trying to make more sense of what I'm saying here, let me mention a couple of things I know to be absolute truths... 

• What makes being a bartender awesome, is the ability to make a lot of money in a very short period of time, and having good, fun customers.  Those two things can absolutely make it or break it for anyone.  For me at least, the latter supersedes the former.  I'm a greedy bitch, but if I worked with nothing but a bunch of douche bags, I wouldn't keep doing what I do. No matter your motivation, YOUR attitude and actions, will make or break you.
• The universal truth about any small town, people want out.  At least at some point in their lives, hell, even I left for quite some time and I own the fucking bar I work at.  

Moving right along, I've been bartending for a long fucking time, longer than I will admit to in public :p  I've seen thousands of people come and go over the years, didn't phase me at all.  As I've gotten older though, I've been much more about quality over quantity, people have heard me say it a hundred times, "I would rather have 50 great people in, having a good time, than 300 assholes that make everyone miserable and we have to babysit all night."  At some point in my life, atmosphere took precedence over my greed (wtf?!?!).

Herein lies my problem.  Although ultimately, I still love what I do,  I've gotten to a point where the level at which I enjoy my job is entirely based on the people I serve any given night.

Sounds pretty reasonable, nobody likes working with a bunch of dicks (except hookers they love it).  You may still be wondering, what the problem is....   Almost all of the people that "make" my nights, have moved out or moved on.  Most have left town (Tucson and Phoenix be damned!!); some have just settled down, marriages, kids, jobs, people don't have the time or the energy.

As a result, more often than not, I'm stand offish and bitchy, I can't really fake nice anymore. ← All very bad mojo for a bartender!!

You may be saying "Suck it up, Amanda, you're being a whiny bitch! A lot of people hate their jobs.", while that is mostly true, this isn't just my job, it is my livelihood.  I am the owner, the whole vibe/feel of the place takes on my attitude, and when my heart isn't in it, the business suffers.  Even if I were working for someone else, it would ultimately be the same, no one wants to hang out in a place where the bartender is grumpy all the time.

So, now I'm stuck a crossroad of choices to be made, and I'm totally clueless of what to do.  I don't know how to revert to making it all about the money again.  So, do I continue and hope things improve, or give up and walk away from the business that I've loved for so many years?

Ok, I've rambled way too much already.... Enough of that.

Moral of the story:  If you're in it for the long haul, don't let it get personal, remember why you are there $$$$$.  After all, no one becomes a bartender because they love breaking up fights and cleaning up vomit.  Be nice, smile, make people feel special, but don't let them become special, getting too close will always come back to bite you in the ass eventually.

                                                                      

The Amanda Project

Does your life have meaning?  Why are we here?  The eternal questions that have plagued humanity as far back as civilization spans.  

Lately, I've been asking myself slightly altered versions of these questions; not so much looking for a calling or a purpose, but more examining the person I am, and the impact I've  had on those unfortunate enough to be a part of my vida loca . 

Look at me, being all deep and shit, and I'm not even drinking, crazy right?   

The other day I started examining the differences between the person that I once was, and the person that I've become; let me tell you, the differences are vast.  I know that you're probably thinking, "Well, no shit, Amanda, everyone changes as the years go by." (for those of you thinking that, that know me, I'm giving you my "Wtf, really?" look), I'm looking beyond most typical and superficial changes.  I'm not going to sit here and start listing off everything *boring*, but I will say that I'm not too incredibly fond of the person I am today.   

One of the traits I've seemed to acquire in the last 10 years, is my uncanny ability to ostracize myself.  I can remember days gone by when I was this little social butterfly, who loved people and being around them; now I'm a grumpy, hermit-like, shadow of of my former self, shaking my fists in the air, screaming for people to get off my lawn.  I understand fully that some of this can be attributed to gaining in age and wisdom.  I've shed the child like naivety, and am no longer blinded by the belief that people, as a whole are generally good. People suck, society is over run with users, abusers, and self serving jackasses, who want nothing more than to find the next person that's willing to serve their purposes.  Once you've outlived your usefulness, they exit as quickly as they entered your life,  leaving  nothing but destruction and pain in their wake.  

Some may call me a cynic or say I'm jaded, but I call it realistic.  I could at this very moment spout off a list of names of people that I know only talk to me because they want something from me. Whether it be something I can give them, do for them, or to them for that matter, they have no real interest in me as a person, or in my life.   Filing through people fruitlessly trying to sort the artificial from the real thing, is tiring.  I've grown weary, and honestly have no patience for it anymore; resulting in a more guarded, cautious, and less trusting, me. 

YAY for me, right?  I mean, if you don't get close to people, they can't hurt you, expect nothing and you will never be disappointed.  So yeah, I suffer a lot less this way, but I also enjoy much less.
The downside of all of this, are the good people I've encountered and pushed away, my loss. People that have opened themselves to me, bared their souls, so to speak and I pushed them aside.  Self preservation at its finest and worst.  I know I hurt those people, I know it wasn't fair to them, and what I wouldn't give to fix it.  Let me know when you invent the time machine, will you?

Anyway, point being, that's not who I want to be.  I don't want to be the cause of someone turning into me.  

I mean I know I'm not a "bad" person, actually, I'm probably nicer than I should be most times.  Fiercely loyal to my friends, not much I won't do to make someone smile, or just to make their day a little happier, always there when they need me.  You know, they way I wish people would be to me.

This got me thinking, if I know what I don't want to be, do I know what I do want to be?  The answer I came up with, "Hell, I don't even fucking know who I am anymore."  it was frightening realization.

So, if you have been bored enough to read this far, I hope you will continue to join me for journey down the rabbit hole.  If nothing else, you might find new material to point and laugh about. 

Unlike my typical posts, there is no moral to this story, but more so an initial self realization:
I'm a good woman, and a bad girl, a wonderful contradiction.  The type who, if we were dating, you could take home to meet the folks, and your dear sweet mother would love me, unless she found out what I'm willing to do behind closed doors. 

So, it's been 2 years....

I have to start by saying this, don't ever let anyone steal your life from you. Allow me to explain... I'm obviously not talking murder, though you should try to avoid that as well, but I mean more of your essence, your core being, and identity (no, not identity theft either).  It's been two years since I've written, some would probably call it writer's block, but this goes beyond that.  It's more like my desire was stripped from me.  I love writing, I always have; don't misunderstand I've never dreamed to be a novelist or journalist of any sort, but for as long as I can remember it was the best and easiest way for me to truly convey my thoughts and feelings, to sort out my emotional messes.  
Shortly after my last post, out of pure maliciousness, someone that I loved dearly shamed me for my writing.  They said terrible, unforgivable things to me, their only intent being to hit me where they knew it would hurt, and it worked .  Ultimately, I only have myself to blame, in my own weakness of will, I allowed them the power over me to do so. I'm not trying to play the victim card, it's more of self realization I guess.  
   My entire life, I've been plagued by self-doubt, or the feeling of not being good enough, not for any one person mind you, just in general, and though I obviously never thought of myself as anything special, I always believed that I was at least a pretty decent individual overall. Then someone entered my life, and I changed myself, solely to make them happy; not just superficial changes, but key aspects of who I am as a person.  Not all of the changes were bad I suppose, but now, looking back over the years, I realize just how much of myself I've given up and I am ashamed. 

Anyone that knows me personally, and isn't just randomly reading this has probably figured out by now who I'm talking about, it's not difficult.  Those of you that do, before you completely start trashing him, please remember that I am just as much to blame as he is.  I allowed it, and I've certainly been far from perfect. 

You see all these women empowering posts all over the place, "Never settle", "Don't let no man change you" (if you're wondering, yes that was difficult for me to type).  Well, I call bullshit on that!!  In any serious relationship, there has to compromise, and I hate to drag your head out of the clouds, but you will always "settle" in some aspect.  For example, say you are Jewish and they are Catholic, well now you both celebrate Christmas and Hunnakah to be respectful to each other's traditions.  So, in some way or another to accommodate your partner, you will change little parts of yourself, it just happens, and it for the most part can be very beneficial to the relationship. 

I let it go so much deeper than that.  Year after year I gave up another piece of myself, in attempts to make things better, happier.  Which might not have been bad, if he did the same, and if I wasn't urged to do so by an ultimatum.

Enough of that, it's gotten much too long winded and I'm getting much more personal than I intended. 

Moral of the story:  While adapting to make your coexistence with another person is necessary, letting someone guilt you into fundamentally changing at your core, will lead to nothing, but resentful bitterness. 

Also, this is a piece of me I hope I am able to rebuild.  I have a more "typical of me" post in mind already, I just have to see if I can get the thoughts out into written word. 

The softer side

Assuming that you aren't a total stranger that just happens to be reading my blog, you know that Micha (my son) has just graduated high school and is all set to move to Flagstaff and start attending NAU.  He'll be moving at the end of July so I still have two months but two months will pass in a blink of an eye. 

Micha hasn't really portrayed any emotion regarding the move, not even a hint of nervousness (though I am sure he is a least a little bit) the only thing I know for certain is that he can't wait to get away from the small mindedness of Thatcher and out of the desert heat. 

I couldn't be more proud or excited for him, truly I couldn't.  I can't wait for him to start out on his journey and see the way his adult life unfolds. The boy has endless potential and no anchors to hold him back.

That in mind, I have to admit, I am an absolute wreck.  Every time the slightest thought of him moving pops up in my mind, I get teary eyed if not full blown start crying.  Normal reaction right?  I mean it's only natural that a mother will miss her child when the child leaves the home.  I've seen other parents deal with the same situation and I'm still shocked by the severity of my own reactions.  He'll only be 5 hours away, it's not like he'll be on the other side of the world; then it dawned upon me, the reason my emotions are so wired and my reactions so strong.

The epiphany:

Micha is my best friend, he is my smile, my strength, my courage and everything that has kept me going everyday. I got pregnant with him when I was 17, was a single mother until he was 9, I have literally spent every day of my adult life with my son, he and I grew up together.  I have no idea how to live without him.  I know in time, we will all adjust.  I know it will get easier and I will find ways to cope with this emptiness that is taking over.  For now though, I'm a mess and I feel as though my heart is being torn from my chest, or that a part of me is dying.  I miss him already and he's not even gone. 

That's really it, just needed to say it "out loud" I guess.  So, for those of you that wonder why I look away or change the subject when talking about his plans, now you know.

A man where a boy once stood, a boy I wish I had just a bit more time with.

It's been a long time... no really, like a really long time.

I haven't blogged since September of last year, I just reread that post and thought, damn that was a good post, I should write another.  Let me try to explain my absence or lack of motivation.  Typically when I write, I'm driven by anger, how easily the words flow when I'm completely pissed off.  However, for the last few (perhaps more) months I've felt exhausted and defeated, had more of the attitude of why bother to even waste my breath?  That combined with the fact that someone dear to me has started getting shitty with me about my blogs and it's kind of derailed my writing train.



Screw that! If they don't like what I have to say, or the fact that I say it semi publicly then they can kiss my lily white bottom.  I'm still feeling slightly defeated but had just enough of a crazy weekend that here I am.  Time to let my little demons out to play.


Quick recap:
2014 so far has been a screwed up year, filled with a lot of heart ache and worry, not only for myself but many people I know. 
At the beginning of the year, I lost a very dear friend, a man that was loved by all that knew him.  My heart still aches when I think of him or see his picture.  I feel very fortunate to be able to call him my friend and that I have many cherished memories, Raul Luzania, I love you <3

That is how the year started and honestly it hasn't gotten any easier.  In February I experienced something I hope to never go through again, when we had a psychotic scum bag stab another patron in our club,  Anthony Lucero Torres of Deming, New Mexico, I hope you are being slowly and painfully tortured somewhere right now. 

Ok, so those are a couple of examples of how stupid this year has been, let me fast forward to this past Friday night...

Friday we had a decent crowd, pretty evenly mixed of our beloved regulars and unfamiliar faces. EAC (the local college) had their graduation, we had a lot of people in celebrating for that.  It was a good time. Until I stepped out on to the patio for a quick stress reliever (a cigarette, they keep me from going to prison for homicide, don't judge) and I see puke, puke and more puke.  Nice, jackass couldn't even manage to find the oversized  garbage can.  Now, thankfully I'm the boss and rarely anymore do I have to actually clean the puke myself, so I inform the bouncer and he goes about disposing of the mess. 
Moments later I am informed that some unknown man had stepped into our broom closet and hadn't come out yet.  Now keep in mind this room is tiny, barely room for an adult person to stand in width wise and all that is in there are brooms, the mop and the hot water heater.  Upon receiving this news, I ask one of my male customers to take a peek and see if the guy is just passed out or what.  He opens the door, and sees the guy with his pants down, closes the door.  At this point I ask him to go get the bouncer for me.  While waiting I held the door shut as the guy inside is frantically trying to get out, yeah, fuck that, no way I'm letting out because I would have probably gone to jail if I had to deal with him.  Bouncer arrives (the same bouncer that cleaned the puke, poor guy right?) I quickly explain the situation and walk away before I kill someone.  He throws the guy out and proceeds to clean the puddle of pee off of the floor in the broom closet.  Seriously motherfucker went into a tiny pitch black room and thought "Hey this obviously must be the bathroom" Couldn't even walk out and pee in the parking lot with the rest of the numbskulls that have yet, discovered indoor plumbing? 

It is now 1 am and we are all doing the one more hour dance... this hour goes by with little issue.  Closer to 2 am the poor over worked man has to duck out into the parking lot to deal with some people that were drinking in their car (big time against the law kids) Shortly after he'd gone outside a customer approaches me at the bar and says something that just absolutely blew my mind, seriously this one sentence took quite a bit of time to sink it, hell I still can't believe it really.  Before, I continue let me explain our bathroom set up for anyone unfamiliar.  We have 2 men's restrooms, one single room with a toilet and sink, and then another room with 6 urinals and a sink.  Ok, where were we, oh yes, the comment that broke my brain... "Uh Amanda, someone shit on the floor by the urinal"

Bam! Brain broken! "Huh, what, are you serious?  Like really? It's not puke?"

First I can't even begin to comprehend someone doing it, and also can't understand how no one else caught the pig in the act.  Seriously, bathrooms are busy places in a bar. 

Who the fuck shits on the floor?  We never did find out who did it, and the poor unfortunate bouncer who will now be known as the "Master of the mess" had to clean it up.


Moral of the story: Just when I think I've seen it all, humanity never fails to step down to a new low and prove me wrong!

The value of a life to your false humanity...

It's September 11, 2013, twelve years after the attack on the twin towers and everyone is posting "Never forget" and "In remembrance" pictures on Facebook and it's making me insane.

Before you start accusing me of being even more of a heartless bitch than you already thought, allow me to state my point of view...

I am human, I am fully capable of empathy; losing a loved one no matter the circumstances is hard and heartbreaking.  It's a pain that everyone on this planet shares multiple times in their lives (admittedly some more than others).  That is the one guarantee about life, it ends and there is nothing we can do to stop it.  Having said that, I've cried over the loss of strangers or even people that I really didn't care for just for the simple fact that I can empathize with the loss that their loved ones are feeling.

9-11 was a tragedy that rocked our country to its very core. The impact that it had was felt for various reasons the most relevant being, the scale of the foreign attack on our home soil and the number of lives lost.

Scale, 3000 people, that is a large number but not larger than the number of people who die in this country everyday for other reasons.   Yet, this is so much more tragic because they all died in the same space/time?   If all of those same people still died the same day but in car crashes scattered throughout the nation would you still remember them, would you feel so "heartbroken" today?  Is the pain someone feels due to losing a loved one in the attack more valid than the pain of a mother who lost her child in childbirth, more tragic than the pain of a child who lost their father in a drive by shooting? 


Have you even once stopped to contemplate the number of people who die to terrorism on a daily basis in other countries?  The people who live through events like 9-11 on a daily basis?  Is this country's loss more important than theirs?
I already know what most would say "This is more real to us because they were Americans and it happened here."
So what you're saying is that because the people lost were Americans their lives were more valuable than the lives of the people lost in other countries?  Our pain is more significant than the pain felt by the hundreds of thousands of people in the other countries?  In 2011 over 600 people in Iraq were killed in car bombings, more than 600 just to car bombings, that's not including other acts of terrorism.  Reread that and let it sink in for a moment.


You know what I hate worse than Christians of convenience?  Humans of convenience.  To those who are incapable of understanding that I will explain. 

I hate all the people who need a holiday or tragedy to remind them how to be human.  Christmas, Veteran's day, Thanksgiving, today, etc   The days of the year when everyone goes around preaching about how they and everyone else should show respect and love one another... every life is precious, make love not war blah blah blah.  Fuck you!  You should behave that way everyday.
Saying that you'll never forget the lives lost in 9-11 doesn't make up for the fact that you treat people like shit every other day of the year and would gladly step on the throat of someone to get ahead in life.  
You're all fucking hypocrites.

I behave the same way everyday no matter the circumstances.  I treat people how they deserve to be treated, if you're a good person I'll treat you as such, on the other hand if you are a loser waste of flesh, I'll treat you accordingly.

I've made it quite clear that I prefer the animal kingdom to humanity, I've never seen an animal go out of it's way to fuck someone over out of maliciousness.  Animals follow their instincts, if they eat you it was because they were hungry, not because they were jealous of your new shoes. 



I've gotten a little more derailed than I intended so I'll just end this here..


Moral of the story:  A human life is a human life, none more valuable than the next.  Everyone is somebody to someone.  Stop being an "American" and start being human.   If you so value life then stop preaching about it and start proving it.   Talk is cheap and so is your fake ass humanitarian bullshit.