The Paper Route


There was a point when I was in elementary school that my mom was pretty much my best friend. When I first started school and she still had her paper route she would sometimes let me stay home sick so we could play hooky. We’d get McDonald’s for lunch and rent movies like Splash from Blockbuster. We’d laugh and joke. Probably make fun of things as we were wont to do. There’s a scene from the movie “Say Anything” when Diane Court’s father is trying to figure out what’s going on with her and he implores her, “You know you can say anything to me.” That’s how it was with my parents, I could say anything to them. 

I remember once I got old enough to start going out with friends and start making big girl mistakes they sat me down and told me: No matter what you do, what happens in your life whether you kill someone, get pregnant, rob a bank, anything. We will help you. I never forgot that.


Trailer Haven

When I was really little, before I started school, mom worked a paper route and many times I would go with her. She would wake me up at three in the morning, make us each a cherry Pop-Tart wrapped in a napkin and a little glass of milk for the road. We would drive out to a bank where all the paper deliverers met and rolled their papers for the morning. Then we would drive through the Trailer Haven trailer park while it was still pitch dark and mom would cruise through the lanes and whip the papers out the window of her Toyota while she played Fleetwood Mac. Continue reading

Health Fist

Did she misspell that? Was it intentional? What the hell is going on and where are my pants? These are all questions you might be asking yourself at this point in time, but I am here to tell you: have no fear. All will be explained in due time.

I’ve recently started working at a company called Health First which, for those of you who aren’t familiar with Brevard County, Fla., is a large corporate non-profit hospital with facilities in Palm Bay, Melbourne, Cape Canaveral and coming in 2011, Viera.

The new digs

My first day at the hospizzle was September 7th and my ninety-day evaluation is coming up the first week in November. My supervisor

says I’m doing fine so I’m not shitting my pants just yet, but we’ll see as the time crawls nearer.

The specific department I work in (and no, I’m not wiping asses or cleaning projectile vomit off of the walls) is called Patient Business Services, or more specifically, Registration. There we register and collect money from patients coming in for outpatient labs, diagnostics, etc. But the real fun, as I’ve heard is the ER. I haven’t been trained on ER yet, but to say that you see some interesting stuff in a gross understatement.

Right now I work the front desk and my level of misanthropy grows more and more every day. The utter stupidity of the general public never ceases to amaze me. That’s not to say that I didn’t already hate people, because believe me, I did. But now it’s been confirmed.

Some days are great and some days it’s like eating a fistful of bees. On the Monday of my third week I actually sat down at my lunch table and started crying. One thing I do have to say, though is that the people I work with are pretty awesome. So that makes it better.

I’m just trying to take it one day at a time right now and adjust myself to working 50 hours a week. The one thing that keeps me going?

Is this what I want to do for the rest of my life? Absolutely not. But for right now I’d say I’ve got a pretty sweet gig.

The Life: Spring Break 2010

After the extreme fun and excitement of deleting my Myspace account, I decided to head outdoors and enjoy the beautiful Florida weather. Although the days were warm, the nights were a bit chilly and I was kicking myself for only bringing a light sweater to protect me from the 58 degree frozen tundra.

My Spring break went a little something like this:

Thursday 3/11/10: Juarez $2 happy hour margaritas, dancing, writers’ party, Congress St., closed down the Jinx, and a warm shot of well whiskey that resulted in a quick puke. Off to a good start.

Frozen Margaritas, tequila, watermelon

Pay no mind to the watermelon.

Friday 3/12/10: Drive home to Melbourne, FL.

Sunday 3/14/10: Margaritas by the pool.

pool, Florida, palm tree, palm trees

Tuesday 3/16/10: Surf day. Oz and Dave decided to paddle out.

surf boards, surf, wax, sex wax, long board

surfing, surf, Melbourne Beach, Florida

I stayed behind to catch some sun. Unfortunately the clouds came out and the wind picked up, so I shivered for the entire hour. While I was shivering, a pelican landed about eight feet away from me.


So that was pretty cool.

Friday 3/19/10: Badfish concert, House of Blues in Orlando. Badfish is a Sublime tribute band. If you close your eyes while they’re playing, it almost sounds like Bradley Nowell is up on stage singing his heart out. What an awesome experience.

Near the end of the concert, the lead singer, Pat Downes, walked off the stage. Just when everyone was like what the fuck, Downes rolled on stage in this contraption:

I found out later that it’s called a Zorb. If you have $1300 lying around and would like to purchase me one, that would be fantastic.

Saturday 3/20/10: Oz, his cousin Terry and I headed to down Jupiter, FL (about an hour south of Melbourne) where Terry lives. For the next couple of days it was fish city.

puffer fish, Jupiter

First catch of the day: Oz caught a little puffer fish. It was cool because you could hear the fish make little sucking sounds while he puffed up to ward off the predators (us).

Red Snapper

Second catch: Terry and his beautiful red snapper.

sting ray

sting ray

Shortly after, Oz reeled in a little sting ray. The ray was pissed and was whipping that tail around left and right. [Insert Steve Irwin joke here.] To unhook him, we had to pin his barb down with a broom. He was happy to be back in the water after that ordeal.

The next day, I caught what the boys thought was a perch. I really have no idea what it was but it was fun to catch.

*     *     *

I hope you enjoyed my adventures. It’s sad to think that now that I’m graduating college I’ll never have another Spring break again!

Aunt Linda’s Chicken Alfredo Roll Recipe

My friends and I had Ladies’ Night last night which involved a little bit of cooking, curling our hair, and lots of champagne. I decided to make an appetizer, but after surfing the Web for recipes for an hour the night before, I became really overwhelmed. I e-mailed my aunt Linda who owns Port D’Hiver Bed and Breakfast in Melbourne Beach, FL (shameless plug, I know) and asked her for suggestions. She sent me this recipe for a delicious chicken alfredo roll.
small jar of alfredo sauce
small pack of cooked chicken breast
medium bag of mozzarella cheese
tube of rolled pizza dough (usually next to the crescent rolls in the store)
(1) egg
(1/2) tsp. water
  1. Preheat the oven to 350.
  2. Open tube, roll the pizza dough and flatten out a little.  I usually do this on a cookie sheet sprayed with PAM.
  3. Spoon the alfredo sauce thinly over the dough but leaving 1 inch border around the edge.
  4. Chop the chicken breast into little pieces and sprinkle over sauce (you can add canned mushrooms to this step if you like them and it dresses it up a bit).
  5. Then sprinkle a good amount of cheese over this.
  6. Beginning at the short end, carefully roll the pizza dough just like you would a sleeping bag.  When you finish pinch the ends to seal in the sauce.
  7. Whisk egg and water in a small bowl. Brush egg mixture (called an “egg wash”) over the dough. This step is optional, but it makes the roll much prettier.
  8. Bake for 20 minutes.
  9. Let sit for 5- 10 minutes before you slice it or it will be too gooey.
You can throw all kinds of stuff in there, whatever you have leftover. You can shop an onion, red and green peppers,  zucchini or squash and saute or microwave it with a little butter for a few minutes until soft and sprinkle it in with the chicken. Or get a can of little black olives and sprinkle those around. Have left over cooked broccoli? Chop it up and throw it in there. The more the merrier!

Rich people, Chubs, and just saying “Phuket”

Tuesday afternoon Oz and I made the two hour journey down south to see a few bands play. We did the same thing we always do when we go down to Boca Raton: gawk at rich people. Their cars, houses, offices, boats. Nothing is safe. After walking around the mall and laughing at all the things we can’t buy, we decided to take a drive down to Deerfield beach.

Do you ever think that some people just have TOO much money?

A law office on Federal Highway

Then, to kill some time before the show, we went for a stroll through Target. A Target that has two stories (!).  At the risk of looking like a country bumpkin, I had to snag a picture. Don’t worry, I hid in the candle aisle. I don’t think anyone saw me.

An escalator? In TARGET?

After that, we hopped in the car and headed to Nick’s house where we dumped off our stuff and got pretty:

From there it was a quick car ride to downtown Ft. Lauderdale to Revolution Live where Emory, August Burns Red, an Underoath were playing.

Once we got our tickets scanned and wristbands attached, we headed into the mouth of hell. It was about 120 degrees inside the club and the air was so wet and heavy it felt like it would crush you to the floor. The first band was finishing its set, but it already smelled like sweaty hair. As we pushed through the crowd, I started taking mental notes on all of the ridiculous people that were there. I noted several different types of people:

  • 12-year-old girls with fake IDs, miniskirts and black hooker boots. They mostly tried to look cool while getting pushed around and spilling their beer on each other.
  • Long-haired, sweaty, shirtless guys who were moshing on the lower level.
  • Tall, gangly guys wearing baggy ’90s Jnco jeans, black mesh T-shirts and as many chains as they could physically carry.
  • Emo losers with multiple lip rings and black hair matted down to one side with sweat.
  • A random high school math teacher who was there by himself.

Once we’d pushed our way to a spot where we could see the stage, the drums started beating, the band was on stage and the crowd went insane. The whole room reverberated with the sound of August Burns Red and you could feel the bass in your heart. The crowd pushed back and forth while people flew through the air.

August Burns Red

Unfortunately, all we had was Oz’s camera phone to document the concert with. Our favorite band member was the chubby guitarist, Brent Rambler,  who was wearing a light blue polo T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops. He rocked the shit.


August Burns Red had a really clean sound. The bass was tight and there was very little distortion on the vocals, which were much deeper in person than on the album. While the breakdowns rumbled, Jake Luhrs, the lead singer, swung his microphone around on the wire and jumped up on the front speaker. He screamed as loud as he could and beat his chest to the beat of the double bass. At one point during the set, Rambler even broke a guitar string, but the other guitarist picked up his part and the performance was seamless. They saved the best two songs, “Back Burner” and “Composure” for last. A stellar performance.

After their set, we pushed our way outside to get some air. What really sucked was that the “porch” was a twelve by twelve foot space with about 40 people crammed into it. Everyone was smoking and ashing on each other. Then it was back inside for Underoath. Neither of us were super thrilled about seeing them, but we stayed for a few songs. However, when it started smelling like a hot pile of garbage, it was time to leave. I really think somebody shat themselves.

After the concert we got some much needed Slurpies at 7-Eleven and drove back up to Boca. There we saw my favorite sign of the day:

When you just don’t care anymore: Phuket Thai.