It's all downhill from here.

I got talked into working another quince on Saturday. I'm sort of glad I did, it was $130 I didn't have before and overall, the people were okay. Except for these underage thug lifes who showed up wearing jerserys and other thug life accessories, which was Coors Extra offensive because they were related to the girl. I spotted one of them, wristband-less, with a Corona in hand, and before thinking about it, run from behind the bar and yell at him about it.

"Gimme that," says Cat.

"What?" says Thug.

"You're not 21, give me the beer," says Cat.

"No." says Thug.

"Yes." says Cat.

"No." says Thug.

He proceeds to do that super annoying thing where he holds it just out of my reach, like it's a piece of string and I'm a kitten. We circle for a minute, as he increasingly gets more and more upset and more and more in my face. Daniel saw the whole thing and came up to talk to Thug. And while Thug is distracted by Daniel, I rip the beer out of his hand and run off.

SUCCESS. But, now that I look back on it, amazingly retarded. Little Cat doesn't need to be argueing with drunk Thugs. Really, what was I going to do? Hit him with my bottle opener? I think my stealing of the bottle was top game, too. Like, really, let's see how pissed off I can make this man for Daniel to deal with him. Daniel is, by the way, my guardian angel from New Jersey.

Just TRY and underage drink on my watch, Thugs.

Saturday also marked a landmark event: the first time I was mad about having to go to work since the fire. Things must be getting back to normal.

Trying to stay big.

This makes Tuesday better. "I got Fight Club for 6.98 at walmart." "I am Jack's low price guarantee."

CRAP I had a long weekend. I worked nine hours at the El Rey on Saturday. And I spent most of that time looking at this:


Oy, quinceañeras. You're such a cruel mistress. I love them for their $100 bar guarantee, but hate them for the fact I am forced to use what little Spanish I've retained after 4 years of schoolin for it. This one wasn't so bad, especially since the girl's dress was GREEN and she had a GREEN and BLACK theme. Thank baby Jesus. The girl always wears white and her colors are always red and white. Booooring. So thanks Veronica, for spicing it up a bit.

I ended the night really grumpy. It was weird seeing the Launchpad open again, talking to the staff, watching everything get back to normal there. It just made me sad, knowing that I'll never get my bar back. It didn't help when the El Rey's roof started leaking like mad with that crazy downpour we had at about 1:30 on Saturday night. We had to construct an elaborate system of trash bins and beer coolers to catch it all. Historical buildings never get all the way fixed, if I've learned anything, it's that.

And yeah, I'm getting used to it by now. But, I'm starting to feel like I have to justify my grief (mostly to myself...). I guess it's okay to still be sad. I've never really experienced loss like that before.

On a lighter note, Kyle said the funniest thing this weekend about selling fireworks. "I'm going to make it magical next year. Like going to Narnia. I'll wear fairy wings if I have to."

Speaking of, he joined a new band. Perhaps you've heard of Flood the Sun? Well, their new bass player is fantastically tall and awkward. By this happening, it means that 3 out of my top 5 favorite men in Albuquerque are in a band together. Success!