Boys are stupid, and girls are mean.

It's nothing new. I've used this blanket statement an endless amount of times before. Yet, no matter how many times I say it, I still feel it to ring true.

Boys are stupid, and girls are mean.

Why Rachel, how could you say such a terrible thing? What a rotten generalization you've created for the human race! Well, you know what!? It's true.
It comes as no surprise to any of you that I've dated some winners. We're talkin' down home cookin, old fashioned, gee-golly-darn-fresh winners. These guys should win awards for the special kind of winners that they are. I'm not pinning anyone down here, just more of an all encompasing statement really. If you threw them all in a barrel, shook them up, threw them off a mountain, and made some soup of them, you'd have the world's greatest winner soup. (I use the term winner as an attempt at a lighter, more jocular word. If I used the words I'm really thinking, which let's be honest are still incredibly mild, I'd feel bad for a long time. So to avoid my own personal self-hating guilt spiral, I'm goin with winner.) Buddy the Elf would have to sincerely congratulate this soup for being the world's greatest winner soup. And what has it mostly boiled down to for me? Boys are stupid.
I have a lot of guy friends. A LOT. I've called myself the chronic homegirl. (Yes, I realize that's probably some sort of reasoning for my statements above, but just go with me here, ok?) As chronic homegirl, which I absolutely enjoy by the way, I have heard a lot of stories about girls. I hear about the trickery, the manipulation, and the meniacal little snots that my friends find themselves dating, and each time I just want to find these girls and punch them. Or slap them, or pull their hair, or break their necklace or something. I'm probably not tough enough to actually punch a girl, so I'd just make some attempt to physically harm them. Why? Because I'm a little bit mean. These girls lead my friends on, they go back to their ex-boyfriends, they use them for their motorcycles, they rebound, all of it. Too many girls have messed with too many guys, and each an everytime, it breaks down to the same thing. Girls are mean.
Well Rachel, not all girls are mean. You know what, that's really true. There are some good hearted and sweet girls out there. A lot of them I'm sure. I could even name a few. But too many times when there's a problem, and even though it can be unintentional, that problem is that girls are mean.
Rach, not all boys are stupid. Scientists, presidents, doctors, lawyers, teachers, comedians. There's all kinds of really intellegent guys out there. Some guys are really sensitive and thoughtful. My husband's not stupid. I love him. But you know what, at some point, if you run into a problem with a boy, it's probably because he did something stupid. Because boys are stupid.
Now I say this with love and respect for both genders. I love being a girl. And I love boys. Seriously. I love them. Someday I'll love a stupid boy of my own, and I'll probably do something to be a mean girl. When we fight, I'll laugh, and smile, and think in my head 'Oh honey, you're so stupid' and I'll give him a kiss and say 'Babe, I'm sorry I was mean.'

No Burgers or Fried Foods, it Agitates Godzilla.

Sometimes things go wrong at my place of work. It happens to everyone right? Well, I worked this chilly Monday morning, and we had a little issue at work. The fans in the kitchen went out, and when you fire-grill and fry the majority of your food, it creates a lot of smoke. Without fans, the smoke has nowhere to go but throughout the restaurant. Naturally, the room got pretty smoky. We were moderately busy, and guests were upset, UNDERSTANDABLY! We couldn't really open the doors to air out the restaurant for long periods of time, because it's about 22 degrees outside. So, we shut everything in the kitchen down for about a half an hour until someone could come to remedy the problem. Yep, that means no burgers, no fries, no onions rings or cheese sticks, no grease, which is what our restaurant does best. After it was mostly over, I had this conversation with my one of my co-workers, Sean.

"Wow, that was fun wasn't it?" (Sean)
"Yeah, the best part is that I have about 23 dollars to show for it." (Me)
"Wow, it doesn't get much worse than that.... long pause..." (Sean)
"What?" (Me)
"I'm trying to think of something that could've made it worse, but I've got nothin." (Sean)
"Ha, yeah." (Me)
"Godzilla. That would have made it worse." (Sean)
"You know, you're right, that would've been worse." (Me)
"Sorry about the smoke folks, Godzilla's in the back" (Sean)
"He just ate one of the cooks." (Me)
"He's pretty upset." (Sean)
"We'll be holding funeral services in a couple of hours." (Me)
"If you stay for it, you get free desert." (Sean)
"But no burgers or fries." (Me)
"No, no burgers or fried foods. It agitates Gozilla." (Sean)

On days like today, despite the pathetic amount of money I didn't make, my serious re-consideration of continuing into a 3rd year at this place, and the potential of black lung from the fryers, I love working. Red Robin.... yumm....