July 22, 2009

1 of 50 – I’m an IOTA. Be one, too!

Filed under: Uncategorized — denise @ 7:50 pm

I used to tip 15%. I used that (handy!) trick of doubling the tax to figure that terrible math problem out.

Then, my best friend became a server some time in the mid 90’s.  That’s when I was informed that we are all stupid under-tipping assholes and we need to tip at least 20% because servers have to tip the runners and the busers as well…

And then I started tipping a little more than 20%  when it was brought to my attention that many places withhold 11-13% of each food servers daily tickets based on the faulty assumption that most of America aren’t stupid under-tipping assholes.

And now that I have small children that leave the table, high chair, booster seat, carpet, window treatments and other patrons covered in their partially eaten grilled cheeses and corn dog nuggets, I leave closer to 50% tip.

Now I’m an informed over-tipping asshole.

100 words, I can handle…

Filed under: 50/100/50 — Tags: , , — denise @ 7:18 pm

I’ve been thinking lately about how much I miss blogging writing and tried to think of ways I could find the time and brain capacity to start it up again and then I remembered that if I’m able to update my Facebook status 3 times a day and throw in a Tweet here and there on Twitter then I can SURELY at least stick my pinkie toe back into the somewhat murky waters of weaving my thoughts into the internets again in little bloglets.

Probably my ability to type one single run-on sentence to begin this endeavor only strengthens my position that I should EASE BACK INTO THIS SLOWLY, DUDES.

So, I pondered.

And then I went to blue girl’s blog…and damned if she wasn’t smack dab in the middle of a 50/100/50 challenge in which she is writing 50 posts in 50 days of 100 words.

And I was all…. maybe… maybe THIS I could do.

So, come along with me on this journey if you’re feeling adventurous.  I make no promises.  I haven’t slept more than 90 minutes consecutively in more than 2 months.  I have a tendency for over-reaction and lunacy and bad limericks (and that was BEFORE I had the baby).  I talk about poop and boobs and my kids and my life and I don’t really give a shit if I should be filtering at least SOMEWHAT between my brain and my fingertips… because WHO HAS TIME? Not me.  That’s who.  I have all this poop and boobs and whatnot to deal with.

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