First, I didn't get the little apartment. But I am on a waiting list for another apartment complex and I'm going to see another one today.
Second, I've come to the understanding that I can't know everything. I used to worry all the time that I needed to know the current events of every news story or I'd sound like an idiot when people were talking about what's happening in, say, Argentina.
For a time, I would get the New York Times on my Kindle and would try to read the whole thing, every day. That proved a feat, mainly because I need to realize I'm not a fast reader. Then I decided I would just get the New Yorker, which comes out weekly, and read it on Sunday mornings. But I must freely admit - I get bored really easily with most news stories. I can read an entire book about constructing word puns but I can't read half-a-page about Russia's legal system.
I have several articles clipped from both the Times and the New Yorker, but I haven't read them. One is about Franz Kafka - and you would think I would have been ALL OVER that article. Nope. I don't know if it's because it's an article and not a book or whether it's because I feel like I'm forcing myself to read and that feels like school and I never read any of my assignments for school so why should I do it now?
I think I've said this before, but I hate reading short stories. There's something about them, something limited, that I find frustrating. I think it stems back to something a former professor said about my short stories - she always felt like there was more to be told. She said my stories didn't feel contained, like they were all part of a longer story and like they were all interconnected. I've taken that with me, because I feel that way, too.
But back to feeling like I should know everything. I'm just not interested in current events. I mean, sometimes I am, don't get me wrong. I know there are certain stories I'd be a fool not to follow. But there are times when I'll be in a conversation about, for example, the Indiana governer's race and I get a vibe the other person thinks I should totally know all about each candidate. Because, you know, they know all about each candidate because they follow that story closely. So shouldn't I be following it closely? Wow, how can anyone now know who's running and what they stand for or don't or what kind of mud they wallowed in once upon a time?
The truth is I shouldn't care what I know vs. what they know. Do they know how to construct a perfectly rhythmed sentence? Do they know how to take two seemingly unrelated objects or ideas, construct a hierarchy, and compare them to create a unique and intriguing metaphor? Do they know people used to think male possums impregnated the females through their noses because the male has a forked penis?
A lot of people have told me throughout the course of my life that I think outside of the box. Maybe that's because I seek information in places that don't come packaged, air-mailed, and stamped with a message to open immediately. The other day I drove to the library (the first time I had driven in FOUR MONTHS) and picked up three random books - two fiction and one non-fiction. They are books few other people have probably read, that have probably only been checked out once before, if ever. I'm excited to read them. I will probably find nuggets of wisdom, because in obscurity is where I always find wisdom, and I will be happy with my little discovery of the knowledge gained in a moment of spontaneity.
October 12, 2011
September 8, 2011
The Little Apartment
It is tiny. It's not much bigger than the bedroom I live in now, except it has a (miniscule) kitchen and bathroom attached. The bathroom isn't too bad, but the kitchen is so small I wouldn't be able to have the oven and the refrigerator open at the same time. Not that I would need to.
The good news:
a) It's private and mine, fuckers.
b) It's not going to cost much each month.
c) It won't cost much to heat.
d) There is a pantry and attic space.
e) It's in a little secluded neighborhood.
f) It is across the street from a grocery (sort of).
g) The landlord recognized me and seemed happy.
h) I will pretend I'm on a writer's retreat.
The bad news:
a) I just realized there is no closet.
b) The kitchen might be too small for a toaster and microwave. Or a microwave and coffee pot.
c) There will be nothing between me sleeping and and someone busting down my door.
d) There is no room for a couch.
e) There is no room for a table.
I don't care about all of those bad things. It will be an improvement over my life as it is. Today, when I came home from visiting the apartment complex, my nephew asked my mother to pay his girlfriend back the $25 we overused with her food stamps. Let me make this clear: she didn't pay us any money out of her paycheck because she doesn't think it's fair that if she doesn't eat much of our food that she should have to pay us any money. I explained to her that if she had her own apartment, she wouldn't be eating her landlord's food but she would still have to pay her landlord rent, and so in this scenario we are the effing landlords. She pretended to agree then refused to pay on her next paycheck. So we overused her food stamps. Sorry, bitch.
I shopped online for portable closets. If I get this studio apartment, I will just buy one of the sturdy little closets I saw and weave it into the narrative.
The good news:
a) It's private and mine, fuckers.
b) It's not going to cost much each month.
c) It won't cost much to heat.
d) There is a pantry and attic space.
e) It's in a little secluded neighborhood.
f) It is across the street from a grocery (sort of).
g) The landlord recognized me and seemed happy.
h) I will pretend I'm on a writer's retreat.
The bad news:
a) I just realized there is no closet.
b) The kitchen might be too small for a toaster and microwave. Or a microwave and coffee pot.
c) There will be nothing between me sleeping and and someone busting down my door.
d) There is no room for a couch.
e) There is no room for a table.
I don't care about all of those bad things. It will be an improvement over my life as it is. Today, when I came home from visiting the apartment complex, my nephew asked my mother to pay his girlfriend back the $25 we overused with her food stamps. Let me make this clear: she didn't pay us any money out of her paycheck because she doesn't think it's fair that if she doesn't eat much of our food that she should have to pay us any money. I explained to her that if she had her own apartment, she wouldn't be eating her landlord's food but she would still have to pay her landlord rent, and so in this scenario we are the effing landlords. She pretended to agree then refused to pay on her next paycheck. So we overused her food stamps. Sorry, bitch.
I shopped online for portable closets. If I get this studio apartment, I will just buy one of the sturdy little closets I saw and weave it into the narrative.
Studio
I'm leaving in a few minutes to see a new apartment. It's a studio. I actually love that word, for all of its private, artistic meanings. I'm super excited. More later.
September 5, 2011
Movin' On Up
To the west side. Which here in my little town is movin' up. You definitely wouldn't want to move to the east side. As Billy Joel (in Anthony's Song) would say, "Mama if that's movin' up then I'm...moving out!"
I haven't really gotten an apartment yet. I've talked to a dude named Corey and I'm supposed to call him this week and talk about openings in the complex he manages. It has studios for $410 a month and one-bedrooms for $440 or so. It's on a sleepy little backroad behind a grocery store. There are plants and hanging lanterns and little garden plots and it's adorable. And far enough away for now.
Today, I gave my mother ten dollars because she was on her way to the grocery store (the very one I might get to live behind) and told her to get me ham, cheese, bread, mustard, and chips so I could make sandwiches to take to lunch with me when I go to work. My sister was going with her, and got extremely upset because I would be hoarding these ingredients in my private fridge in my padlocked bedroom. She was mad I spent ten dollars on myself for lunch for the next few days. What if other people want some ham and cheese? Fuck 'em, is what I say. If I leave ham downstairs for anyone to eat willy-nilly it will be gone by tomorrow morning. Because I'm a prisoner with no car, my only three options for food while I'm at work are Subway, a Chinese restaurant, or a Family Dollar kind of store. Chinese and Subway are too expensive and the food at the Family Dollar is all the most disgusting knock-off food that no other store would dare allow through its doors. So, ten dollars for the next seven or so lunches? I wouldn't be spending that money on food for my family if I was buying a six dollar meal deal at Subway, so why should I spend it on them in this capacity, either?
I can't wait to have a refrigerator of my own. The little one in my bedroom can only hold so much, and once I get a few half-gallons of juice in there I can really only fit about three-five other foodstuffs in it. The freezer doesn't freeze anything. A bottle of soy sauce spilled about a year ago and stained the bottom half of the fridge.
I make about $800 a month. Usually. Sometimes less. Am I worried about being strapped for cash? Yes. At this point am I going to let that stop me anymore? No. I figure, if I can get a studio for $410:
Electric: what, $75 or less a month?
Phone: my cell phone bill is $45 a month
Water: $20 or less a month for just me?
School loans: $45 a month
credit: $20 because I only have one account
Total there: $205 plus rent = $615
I won't have a car payment or insurance payment because, in an apology for ruining my car that I payed for, my parents are paying for my next car, which they will be getting this week. They will put said car on their insurance. This leaves me with an average of $185 a month for food, gas, and miscellaneous items (every three months I also have a life insurance payment). That's...not really enough...but it will have to do. Maybe when I'm happier about life in general I'll be happy to get a second job.
Here's a glimpse at my psychology: I hate coming home. It depresses me to no end. Walking into this house is like walking into a vacuum bubble where you scream and scream and no one can hear you because, rather than there being no air and so no sound, there is so much screaming that you just get lost in the void of everyone else's screams. People have asked me why I don't get a second job or go for a walk - it's because the thought of having to return is worse than the thought of leaving. Like how people go to Vegas and don't gamble because, to them, the thought of losing $100 is worse than winning a million. The thought of returning every night to the screaming and cussing, the violence, the sex and drugs, breaks me down little by little and I drop away, like breadcrumbs, and when I look back the animals are eating the crumbs and I will never find my way again.
Even if I struggle to have enough money in that little studio apartment, it will be a place to return home. If I go to the library I will have a home to bring those books back to. This place, this complex of walls I live in now, isn't a home. It's an animal shelter.
I haven't really gotten an apartment yet. I've talked to a dude named Corey and I'm supposed to call him this week and talk about openings in the complex he manages. It has studios for $410 a month and one-bedrooms for $440 or so. It's on a sleepy little backroad behind a grocery store. There are plants and hanging lanterns and little garden plots and it's adorable. And far enough away for now.
Today, I gave my mother ten dollars because she was on her way to the grocery store (the very one I might get to live behind) and told her to get me ham, cheese, bread, mustard, and chips so I could make sandwiches to take to lunch with me when I go to work. My sister was going with her, and got extremely upset because I would be hoarding these ingredients in my private fridge in my padlocked bedroom. She was mad I spent ten dollars on myself for lunch for the next few days. What if other people want some ham and cheese? Fuck 'em, is what I say. If I leave ham downstairs for anyone to eat willy-nilly it will be gone by tomorrow morning. Because I'm a prisoner with no car, my only three options for food while I'm at work are Subway, a Chinese restaurant, or a Family Dollar kind of store. Chinese and Subway are too expensive and the food at the Family Dollar is all the most disgusting knock-off food that no other store would dare allow through its doors. So, ten dollars for the next seven or so lunches? I wouldn't be spending that money on food for my family if I was buying a six dollar meal deal at Subway, so why should I spend it on them in this capacity, either?
I can't wait to have a refrigerator of my own. The little one in my bedroom can only hold so much, and once I get a few half-gallons of juice in there I can really only fit about three-five other foodstuffs in it. The freezer doesn't freeze anything. A bottle of soy sauce spilled about a year ago and stained the bottom half of the fridge.
I make about $800 a month. Usually. Sometimes less. Am I worried about being strapped for cash? Yes. At this point am I going to let that stop me anymore? No. I figure, if I can get a studio for $410:
Electric: what, $75 or less a month?
Phone: my cell phone bill is $45 a month
Water: $20 or less a month for just me?
School loans: $45 a month
credit: $20 because I only have one account
Total there: $205 plus rent = $615
I won't have a car payment or insurance payment because, in an apology for ruining my car that I payed for, my parents are paying for my next car, which they will be getting this week. They will put said car on their insurance. This leaves me with an average of $185 a month for food, gas, and miscellaneous items (every three months I also have a life insurance payment). That's...not really enough...but it will have to do. Maybe when I'm happier about life in general I'll be happy to get a second job.
Here's a glimpse at my psychology: I hate coming home. It depresses me to no end. Walking into this house is like walking into a vacuum bubble where you scream and scream and no one can hear you because, rather than there being no air and so no sound, there is so much screaming that you just get lost in the void of everyone else's screams. People have asked me why I don't get a second job or go for a walk - it's because the thought of having to return is worse than the thought of leaving. Like how people go to Vegas and don't gamble because, to them, the thought of losing $100 is worse than winning a million. The thought of returning every night to the screaming and cussing, the violence, the sex and drugs, breaks me down little by little and I drop away, like breadcrumbs, and when I look back the animals are eating the crumbs and I will never find my way again.
Even if I struggle to have enough money in that little studio apartment, it will be a place to return home. If I go to the library I will have a home to bring those books back to. This place, this complex of walls I live in now, isn't a home. It's an animal shelter.
August 13, 2011
My Little Secret
I applied for a job. It's the perfect job for me, as far as my education, experience, and abilities. I'll get a superb raise in pay. I'll get to move to a beautiful city.
Here are the disadvantages: It's a job that never stops, all day long. I don't mean I'll work for eighteen hours a day or anything, but it's a job that will be exhausting all day, every day. I have to work with multiple departments. What one interviewer told me is the essential quality for the job is NOT what the second interviewer told me. The first interviewer made me feel confident and powerful, like I would have a voice. The second interviewer made me feel confused and frustrated, like I didn't understand that I wouldn't have any say over any part of the job. That's NOT what the first interviewer indicated.
At first I thought the job was going to utilize my creativity. I thought I was going to get to come up with discussions, suggest new ideas on how to communicate with the employees, and edit existing communications to make them clearer. The first interviewer agreed - he said I would have a mix of creating and editing. Great! I love creating and editing! Interviewer #2, however, assured me that I wouldn't really be creating as much as compiling. I belive those may have been her words, verbatim. I would compile data and communicate it to the field in a concise, organized, timely manner. So...I'm more of a secretary? Not that there's anything wrong with secretaries, but it's not the job Inteviewer #1 laid out for me.
I'm getting a creeping feeling this job may be hectic but boring. It's also going to be fast-paced, stressful, and time-consuming. But who knows? Maybe I'm just getting jitters because Interviewer #2 was a tad intimidating when she was laying out the four thousand responsibilites of this job. Maybe I'll love the chaos. Maybe I'll love being called ten times an hour. Maybe I'll love being a human database.
Here's the kicker: At the same time this job was posted, another job with the same company was posted. I ignored the second job because the description of the first fit me like a glove. The second was in a field that I've come to discover I love very, very much, but I'm not as experienced nor as educated about its specialty. The second job had an earlier deadline and I felt more confident about the first job, so I disregarded Job B and focused on Job A.
I fully regret this. Job B sounds like SO MUCH FUN. And you know what? Rereading the job description I've realized that it also fits me like a glove. It's creative, its educational, its artistic, and there's travelling. Everyone at my current job tells me I'm a natural at the specialty for this job. It's like I didn't know I would love this specialty until I got my current job, where I use this specialty. It's the one thing - the one thing - I truly love about the job I have right now. And I could have been in a job where I do that day in and day out and get to travel to boot.
So today I called Interviewer #2, who I guess would either be interviewing for the fun job as well or who could pass me on to the person who would be interviewing for it, and I told her that while I was still interested in Job A, I had actually been asked by Interviewer #1 if I was interested in Job B and why I hadn't applied for it. I told her I had missed the deadline but if she was still accepting applications I would like to be considered for either job. I don't know what she'll make of this but most of my coworkers think she'll just think I'm taking the initiative to give myself every opportunity to advance in the company. They think she'll understand that I didn't want to look back and regret not having TRIED for both jobs. They also think she'll understand that in the event she doesn't choose me for Job A, I don't want to look like I just tried for one job and then gave up as though I wouldn't enjoy any other job but that first one.
The thing is, Interviewer #1 asked me if I could choose between the two jobs, which would I choose, and not wanting to sound wishy-washy I immediately said Job A. Now I'm worried that I'll be offered both jobs. Because now, I've changed my mind. And I really, really want to say Job B. To the point it's making me sick. But everyone at my current job - even people I never thought would go to bat for me - is doing backflips to get me Job A. Can I let them down? How will I look if I change my mind? Should I be truthful if I am offered a choice between the two jobs that when I sat down and thought about which one I would ENJOY more and that I would come to work excited to do everyday, I had decided that the answer is Job B?
I have a whole weekend to make a decision. Hell, I may not have to. They may have already passed on me for Job A and so will only offer Job B, if they offer either. Or they may have already decided to offer Job A and they've filled Job B, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'll know soon. The wait is KILLING me, though.
Here are the disadvantages: It's a job that never stops, all day long. I don't mean I'll work for eighteen hours a day or anything, but it's a job that will be exhausting all day, every day. I have to work with multiple departments. What one interviewer told me is the essential quality for the job is NOT what the second interviewer told me. The first interviewer made me feel confident and powerful, like I would have a voice. The second interviewer made me feel confused and frustrated, like I didn't understand that I wouldn't have any say over any part of the job. That's NOT what the first interviewer indicated.
At first I thought the job was going to utilize my creativity. I thought I was going to get to come up with discussions, suggest new ideas on how to communicate with the employees, and edit existing communications to make them clearer. The first interviewer agreed - he said I would have a mix of creating and editing. Great! I love creating and editing! Interviewer #2, however, assured me that I wouldn't really be creating as much as compiling. I belive those may have been her words, verbatim. I would compile data and communicate it to the field in a concise, organized, timely manner. So...I'm more of a secretary? Not that there's anything wrong with secretaries, but it's not the job Inteviewer #1 laid out for me.
I'm getting a creeping feeling this job may be hectic but boring. It's also going to be fast-paced, stressful, and time-consuming. But who knows? Maybe I'm just getting jitters because Interviewer #2 was a tad intimidating when she was laying out the four thousand responsibilites of this job. Maybe I'll love the chaos. Maybe I'll love being called ten times an hour. Maybe I'll love being a human database.
Here's the kicker: At the same time this job was posted, another job with the same company was posted. I ignored the second job because the description of the first fit me like a glove. The second was in a field that I've come to discover I love very, very much, but I'm not as experienced nor as educated about its specialty. The second job had an earlier deadline and I felt more confident about the first job, so I disregarded Job B and focused on Job A.
I fully regret this. Job B sounds like SO MUCH FUN. And you know what? Rereading the job description I've realized that it also fits me like a glove. It's creative, its educational, its artistic, and there's travelling. Everyone at my current job tells me I'm a natural at the specialty for this job. It's like I didn't know I would love this specialty until I got my current job, where I use this specialty. It's the one thing - the one thing - I truly love about the job I have right now. And I could have been in a job where I do that day in and day out and get to travel to boot.
So today I called Interviewer #2, who I guess would either be interviewing for the fun job as well or who could pass me on to the person who would be interviewing for it, and I told her that while I was still interested in Job A, I had actually been asked by Interviewer #1 if I was interested in Job B and why I hadn't applied for it. I told her I had missed the deadline but if she was still accepting applications I would like to be considered for either job. I don't know what she'll make of this but most of my coworkers think she'll just think I'm taking the initiative to give myself every opportunity to advance in the company. They think she'll understand that I didn't want to look back and regret not having TRIED for both jobs. They also think she'll understand that in the event she doesn't choose me for Job A, I don't want to look like I just tried for one job and then gave up as though I wouldn't enjoy any other job but that first one.
The thing is, Interviewer #1 asked me if I could choose between the two jobs, which would I choose, and not wanting to sound wishy-washy I immediately said Job A. Now I'm worried that I'll be offered both jobs. Because now, I've changed my mind. And I really, really want to say Job B. To the point it's making me sick. But everyone at my current job - even people I never thought would go to bat for me - is doing backflips to get me Job A. Can I let them down? How will I look if I change my mind? Should I be truthful if I am offered a choice between the two jobs that when I sat down and thought about which one I would ENJOY more and that I would come to work excited to do everyday, I had decided that the answer is Job B?
I have a whole weekend to make a decision. Hell, I may not have to. They may have already passed on me for Job A and so will only offer Job B, if they offer either. Or they may have already decided to offer Job A and they've filled Job B, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'll know soon. The wait is KILLING me, though.
August 3, 2011
Job Application
I just sat here for two hours finishing this application for an internal promotion at my job. Everyone I know is extremely excited for me because they know this position would be the perfect fit for me (within the company). Tomorrow, when I go to work, I'm going to be asked about the application over and over and I might just have to run into the bathroom to cry.
Here's why: I put together a resume, references, and a beautiful cover letter. No, really, it was a work of art. I made a profile at our website. I talked to my manager about how great this position would be. I was so excited and nervous when I pushed the submit button...
...and got a screen of questions, mainly ones I had already answered with a resume and cover letter. Whatever, that's typical. But then it asked me if my manager had any concerns they should know about. I decided to be honest and reveal any misgivings she had had. Then, funny enough, the misgivings became truth - the final question was about my "standing" as of submitting my application. Was I going to be at a "meets standards" at my annual review? Guess what? - I'm not. That was her biggest concern. Well, actually, it was my biggest concern and she just tried to reassure me that my references, experience, and education would surely offset this particular requirement.
Except, I mean, I understand why they have this requirement. If I can't even perform my duties at the "lower" level, how am I going to fair at the "higher" level? I understand. You may be asking why I've failed at my job this year when it seems like it would be a fairly simple job (retail). Well, I'll tell you.
About two months ago I was supposed to take this test for "lower" or "middle" managers where I have to talk to some "higher" level employees and confirm I have what it takes to move into "higher" management. I jumped through a lot of hoops and got my statistics where they needed to be and talked to the first person - who passed me on to the second person. But, wait, what's that? The first person wasn't aware that, yet AGAIN, the "higher" managers had decided to change the requirements for the test so it was EVEN MORE DIFFICULT for employees to reach those standards? So I was automatically failed. I could retest when I had met all of the requirements.
Some might say it should have been easy if I had stayed on the path that got me to the first set of requirements. But, ya see, I didn't give a fuck at that point. I let myself go. I stopped trying. That led to my statistics plummetting. I mean tanking. It was kind of glorious.
Then, a fellow employee went to take this test. She was also struggling to meet the requirements, but finally got there and made it to the point where she was passed by the first person and passed by the second person...and then she was told - surprise! - that now there was a third person. Now, she has to worry about her statistics dropping and worry about the questions (it's up to the questioner) she's going to be asked. The first thing she said to me after being told of the new...new requirement was that she thought the company was trying to force people to stop caring. And that's pretty much what most of us have decided...to stop caring at all.
You see, I wouldn't be "below standards" if they hadn't changed the requirements for our annual reviews...this year. I would be fine. It would still be up to my manager whether I got a raise and what my "standing" was for the year. But the company decided to make it all about the numbers. They've begun to change everything and it's begun to make a lot of people upset. I don't know what they're going to do when they lose a lot of good employees for arbitrary reasons.
Here's why: I put together a resume, references, and a beautiful cover letter. No, really, it was a work of art. I made a profile at our website. I talked to my manager about how great this position would be. I was so excited and nervous when I pushed the submit button...
...and got a screen of questions, mainly ones I had already answered with a resume and cover letter. Whatever, that's typical. But then it asked me if my manager had any concerns they should know about. I decided to be honest and reveal any misgivings she had had. Then, funny enough, the misgivings became truth - the final question was about my "standing" as of submitting my application. Was I going to be at a "meets standards" at my annual review? Guess what? - I'm not. That was her biggest concern. Well, actually, it was my biggest concern and she just tried to reassure me that my references, experience, and education would surely offset this particular requirement.
Except, I mean, I understand why they have this requirement. If I can't even perform my duties at the "lower" level, how am I going to fair at the "higher" level? I understand. You may be asking why I've failed at my job this year when it seems like it would be a fairly simple job (retail). Well, I'll tell you.
About two months ago I was supposed to take this test for "lower" or "middle" managers where I have to talk to some "higher" level employees and confirm I have what it takes to move into "higher" management. I jumped through a lot of hoops and got my statistics where they needed to be and talked to the first person - who passed me on to the second person. But, wait, what's that? The first person wasn't aware that, yet AGAIN, the "higher" managers had decided to change the requirements for the test so it was EVEN MORE DIFFICULT for employees to reach those standards? So I was automatically failed. I could retest when I had met all of the requirements.
Some might say it should have been easy if I had stayed on the path that got me to the first set of requirements. But, ya see, I didn't give a fuck at that point. I let myself go. I stopped trying. That led to my statistics plummetting. I mean tanking. It was kind of glorious.
Then, a fellow employee went to take this test. She was also struggling to meet the requirements, but finally got there and made it to the point where she was passed by the first person and passed by the second person...and then she was told - surprise! - that now there was a third person. Now, she has to worry about her statistics dropping and worry about the questions (it's up to the questioner) she's going to be asked. The first thing she said to me after being told of the new...new requirement was that she thought the company was trying to force people to stop caring. And that's pretty much what most of us have decided...to stop caring at all.
You see, I wouldn't be "below standards" if they hadn't changed the requirements for our annual reviews...this year. I would be fine. It would still be up to my manager whether I got a raise and what my "standing" was for the year. But the company decided to make it all about the numbers. They've begun to change everything and it's begun to make a lot of people upset. I don't know what they're going to do when they lose a lot of good employees for arbitrary reasons.
July 22, 2011
Why Do I Let Things Get to Me?
Yeah, I know, this isn't about my writing philosophy.
Yet again I'm struggling at my little part-time job. I can't keep my statistics consistent and when I try to talk about my frustration I just get told to stop whining and just do something about it. On top of that, my manager - who is one of my best friends - has a bad habit of interrupting me constantly whenever I'm talking. I've asked her to stop doing it, but she tries to make an excuse that because she has ADHD she doesn't know she's doing it and besides, she just doesn't want to forget her question, comment, opinion. I get visibly frustrated when she has yet again made me lose my train of thought.
Two days ago, I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. Everytime she interrupted me I would interrupt her right back with whatever my last words were before she interrupted. Then I would keep going. It made her quite angry.
Then yesterday morning when I came in to work, I found three articles she had printed from our intranet. One was about rudeness in the workplace. Let me just say right now - it better freakin' be for her to read. She conveniently left them right in my eyesight when I walked up to the desk, so there's a feeling in my gut that these articles are for me (one was about mediocre performers and one was about respectfully disagreeing - discussions we've also had in the past few days). I don't know what I'll do if she tries to tell me I'm going to be reprimanded for my rudeness when I've asked her to stop her behavior over and over again.
She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget what she's thinking and just wants to make sure she asks a question or makes a comment before she forgets. But why is it less important if I forget what I was saying or thinking because she interrupts those thoughts? When do I get to hold her accountable for a behavior I've asked her to stop for years? It just reminds me of my post about the other coworker, turning my feelings around on me to make my feelings less important than hers.
We had another disagreement about the coworker who requests off a lot of days because she's used to a job where she can request those days off. This coworker only works one or two shifts a week, the majority being one shift. I don't understand why it's a problem if she requests off but gives plenty of leeway for that one shift to be scheduled each week. My manager knew how I felt about this, and yet again pursued me when I "respectfully disagreed" with her and wouldn't drop the subject. She wouldn't LET me just disagree. She hounded me until finally I more firmly said that I didn't agree and didn't have to. She asked me what I would do if everyone started requesting off all the time and I said we hadn't ever had that problem and so I didn't forsee it as a real problem and so I would cross that bridge when I get there (which I never will). One of the points in the article she left out one the desk yesterday was basically that lazy people make the excuse "we'll cross the bridge when we get there." I "respectfully" disagree. I think it's silly to be constantly worried about how people COULD take advantage of you.
The thing about it is that yesterday, yet again, I came home and cried for about three hours because of a stupid part-time retail job. Here are the reasons:
1) They have yet again forced me to pretend I want to advance up through the company because not wanting that means I'm content, and being content is bad
2) A behavior that upsets me is okay because I'm just trying to show off how smart I am by expecting other people to be able to think like me, or you know, just have common patience
3) If I ever disagree with business proceedures I'm either lazy or stubborn
4) A coworker made a comment about another employee being given special treatment when she didn't really deserve a promotion, but when I lamented about an employee who didn't deserve an extra bonus my coworker admonished me
5) I asked my manager what to do about a situation the other day and instead of helping me find a solution she just complained about how she's having that same problem but didn't say whether she was going to do ANYTHING about it
6) I'm the filler, so she schedules me for all of the shifts no one else can work, which means they're usually the crap shifts like a Tuesday morning, and what can I do with my stats when two people walk in the door in a four-hour period?
7) I'm afraid I won't find employment elsewhere, as two really good friends with college degrees and lots of experience are having trouble finding work right now and I'm scared to death to just leave
8) I don't have a nice quiet place to go home to and so I'm stressed out everywhere I go, all day, everyday
We only have one car between seven people. It's about to fall apart because no one will help me fix it. I can't just leave because I don't have enough money to get my own apartment and a car. I don't have enough money to get my own apartment, period. The college I worked for just laid off most of its part-time instructors and is forcing the tenured professors to teach lower-level classes. I've applied elsewhere but no one seems interested. I just don't know what to do anymore. I haven't read or written in the last few days because I just want to cry under my covers. Why can't the stupid little job just let me be happy? Maybe I'd perform if I didn't feel stressed out about every single thing in my life. Why can't my job just take that stress off for a little while?
I'm telling you, that damn article better not be for me.
Yet again I'm struggling at my little part-time job. I can't keep my statistics consistent and when I try to talk about my frustration I just get told to stop whining and just do something about it. On top of that, my manager - who is one of my best friends - has a bad habit of interrupting me constantly whenever I'm talking. I've asked her to stop doing it, but she tries to make an excuse that because she has ADHD she doesn't know she's doing it and besides, she just doesn't want to forget her question, comment, opinion. I get visibly frustrated when she has yet again made me lose my train of thought.
Two days ago, I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. Everytime she interrupted me I would interrupt her right back with whatever my last words were before she interrupted. Then I would keep going. It made her quite angry.
Then yesterday morning when I came in to work, I found three articles she had printed from our intranet. One was about rudeness in the workplace. Let me just say right now - it better freakin' be for her to read. She conveniently left them right in my eyesight when I walked up to the desk, so there's a feeling in my gut that these articles are for me (one was about mediocre performers and one was about respectfully disagreeing - discussions we've also had in the past few days). I don't know what I'll do if she tries to tell me I'm going to be reprimanded for my rudeness when I've asked her to stop her behavior over and over again.
She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget what she's thinking and just wants to make sure she asks a question or makes a comment before she forgets. But why is it less important if I forget what I was saying or thinking because she interrupts those thoughts? When do I get to hold her accountable for a behavior I've asked her to stop for years? It just reminds me of my post about the other coworker, turning my feelings around on me to make my feelings less important than hers.
We had another disagreement about the coworker who requests off a lot of days because she's used to a job where she can request those days off. This coworker only works one or two shifts a week, the majority being one shift. I don't understand why it's a problem if she requests off but gives plenty of leeway for that one shift to be scheduled each week. My manager knew how I felt about this, and yet again pursued me when I "respectfully disagreed" with her and wouldn't drop the subject. She wouldn't LET me just disagree. She hounded me until finally I more firmly said that I didn't agree and didn't have to. She asked me what I would do if everyone started requesting off all the time and I said we hadn't ever had that problem and so I didn't forsee it as a real problem and so I would cross that bridge when I get there (which I never will). One of the points in the article she left out one the desk yesterday was basically that lazy people make the excuse "we'll cross the bridge when we get there." I "respectfully" disagree. I think it's silly to be constantly worried about how people COULD take advantage of you.
The thing about it is that yesterday, yet again, I came home and cried for about three hours because of a stupid part-time retail job. Here are the reasons:
1) They have yet again forced me to pretend I want to advance up through the company because not wanting that means I'm content, and being content is bad
2) A behavior that upsets me is okay because I'm just trying to show off how smart I am by expecting other people to be able to think like me, or you know, just have common patience
3) If I ever disagree with business proceedures I'm either lazy or stubborn
4) A coworker made a comment about another employee being given special treatment when she didn't really deserve a promotion, but when I lamented about an employee who didn't deserve an extra bonus my coworker admonished me
5) I asked my manager what to do about a situation the other day and instead of helping me find a solution she just complained about how she's having that same problem but didn't say whether she was going to do ANYTHING about it
6) I'm the filler, so she schedules me for all of the shifts no one else can work, which means they're usually the crap shifts like a Tuesday morning, and what can I do with my stats when two people walk in the door in a four-hour period?
7) I'm afraid I won't find employment elsewhere, as two really good friends with college degrees and lots of experience are having trouble finding work right now and I'm scared to death to just leave
8) I don't have a nice quiet place to go home to and so I'm stressed out everywhere I go, all day, everyday
We only have one car between seven people. It's about to fall apart because no one will help me fix it. I can't just leave because I don't have enough money to get my own apartment and a car. I don't have enough money to get my own apartment, period. The college I worked for just laid off most of its part-time instructors and is forcing the tenured professors to teach lower-level classes. I've applied elsewhere but no one seems interested. I just don't know what to do anymore. I haven't read or written in the last few days because I just want to cry under my covers. Why can't the stupid little job just let me be happy? Maybe I'd perform if I didn't feel stressed out about every single thing in my life. Why can't my job just take that stress off for a little while?
I'm telling you, that damn article better not be for me.
July 13, 2011
To Be Continued...
In the morning, when I've had some sleep...and...when I might not sound so crazy as I did in my last post. But I did come to a conclusion.
July 12, 2011
They're Comin'
So says Johnny Vegas.
So, I think something, as far as writing, broke in me today. Could you tell? I think my writing philosophy is forming. I think I'll probably be up until 5:00 a.m. sorting out what the hell my problem is here.
I was just getting ready for work and it occurred to me how I took extreme offense at Goodreads to the person who made assumptions about me because of a book I didn't like. Like what I'm doing to this poor recapper. Food for thought to distract me from the next five hours of mundanity.
I'll also probably jump between this blog and my writing blog. I have a lot to catch up on. This is actually me just "thinking out loud" so it may be boring. It may be angry. It may be irrational, ugly, and frustrating. See you later!
So, I think something, as far as writing, broke in me today. Could you tell? I think my writing philosophy is forming. I think I'll probably be up until 5:00 a.m. sorting out what the hell my problem is here.
I was just getting ready for work and it occurred to me how I took extreme offense at Goodreads to the person who made assumptions about me because of a book I didn't like. Like what I'm doing to this poor recapper. Food for thought to distract me from the next five hours of mundanity.
I'll also probably jump between this blog and my writing blog. I have a lot to catch up on. This is actually me just "thinking out loud" so it may be boring. It may be angry. It may be irrational, ugly, and frustrating. See you later!
And Fucking Furthermore...
Read the previous post first - if you dare to be so bored by my anger - and then if you feel like it, read this one.
I decided to conduct an experiment where I would watch a scene of Doctor Who and then read the recap of the scene. (No, I have no life at this juncture in time, thanks.) In the very next scene of the show, there is more over-the-top humor to the tune of some good, old-fashioned English-Welsh ethnic stereotyping and for reasons beyond me, the recapper finds this funny. Then there are cheesy facial expressions and the like and he's fine with those kinds of sight gags. Finds them hilarious. So do I.
The thing is it FEELS like he is trying to justify finding something funny that maybe he shouldn't because it isn't really different from what he just said was beneath him. I understand that perhaps the two scenes have a scooch of difference in subtlety, but come on. I know I'm an idiot for even giving Fuck #1, but I think it plays into my overall outrage at people who feel they must deconstruct something they don't understand in order to relegate it to some kind of lower form. It's the opposite of when people don't understand something so they mock it as being "too hoity-toity intellectual." And the thing is, why can't they just get along? Why can't it just be what it is and some people like it and some people don't?
I know there has to be a standard on art or else anyone can be published for slapping five words on a piece of paper. But, maybe, that's okay? Maybe it's taken me a long time to get to this thinking. In my previous post, I just mocked something for being "too hoity-toity intellectual." I just did it. I haven't crawled out from under being taught about standards. But maybe I'm evolving. That Book did it (I've decided to stop naming it, in case someone were to ever [implausibly] get angry about this). It was the catalyst.
Because I think that book does this thing - the thing where they have a checklist of standards so if they publish something or don't publish something they don't really have to internalize why. I KNOW they read a lot of manuscripts and so can't be bothered worrying about every single one of them. I KNOW. But I think that having a checklist you can wave at someone is a way of establishing a class system. Either you fit in with our standards or you sit in the corner. The recapper wrote about outsiders to the "cool group" whining about being a victim when really they could be part of the group if they weren't so weak. Wow. There's no such thing as cliques, apparently. Just change yourself if you want to be accepted, because it's never about other people's flaws it's always about your own. Only your flaws are keeping you from being part of the elite. It's never their flaws or their invented system.
Jesus Christ, /soapbox already. And I mean myself. Sort of. Wait, no.
I decided to conduct an experiment where I would watch a scene of Doctor Who and then read the recap of the scene. (No, I have no life at this juncture in time, thanks.) In the very next scene of the show, there is more over-the-top humor to the tune of some good, old-fashioned English-Welsh ethnic stereotyping and for reasons beyond me, the recapper finds this funny. Then there are cheesy facial expressions and the like and he's fine with those kinds of sight gags. Finds them hilarious. So do I.
The thing is it FEELS like he is trying to justify finding something funny that maybe he shouldn't because it isn't really different from what he just said was beneath him. I understand that perhaps the two scenes have a scooch of difference in subtlety, but come on. I know I'm an idiot for even giving Fuck #1, but I think it plays into my overall outrage at people who feel they must deconstruct something they don't understand in order to relegate it to some kind of lower form. It's the opposite of when people don't understand something so they mock it as being "too hoity-toity intellectual." And the thing is, why can't they just get along? Why can't it just be what it is and some people like it and some people don't?
I know there has to be a standard on art or else anyone can be published for slapping five words on a piece of paper. But, maybe, that's okay? Maybe it's taken me a long time to get to this thinking. In my previous post, I just mocked something for being "too hoity-toity intellectual." I just did it. I haven't crawled out from under being taught about standards. But maybe I'm evolving. That Book did it (I've decided to stop naming it, in case someone were to ever [implausibly] get angry about this). It was the catalyst.
Because I think that book does this thing - the thing where they have a checklist of standards so if they publish something or don't publish something they don't really have to internalize why. I KNOW they read a lot of manuscripts and so can't be bothered worrying about every single one of them. I KNOW. But I think that having a checklist you can wave at someone is a way of establishing a class system. Either you fit in with our standards or you sit in the corner. The recapper wrote about outsiders to the "cool group" whining about being a victim when really they could be part of the group if they weren't so weak. Wow. There's no such thing as cliques, apparently. Just change yourself if you want to be accepted, because it's never about other people's flaws it's always about your own. Only your flaws are keeping you from being part of the elite. It's never their flaws or their invented system.
Jesus Christ, /soapbox already. And I mean myself. Sort of. Wait, no.
Doctor Who?
So, like every doomed relationship in the history of the world, I've gone back to a website that occasionally makes me angry to give other shows another shot - because not only are the recappers different and therefore deserve a chance, I at times encounter a whole new community of posters. For the most part, I've enjoyed the Glee fandom because it's usually more carefree, being a comedy show, and at least one of the recappers - it's split between two who alternate weeks - isn't a whining, venom-spitting asshole. The other is. But I can deal.
My other new obsession is Doctor Who. I haven't ventured into the forum because I'm catching up on the episodes via Netflix, but I've been reading the recaps after watching each episode. Why do I need a recap, you might ask? Because sometimes the recappers, who are all fairly smart, catch something I didn't. And vice versa, but I won't get into that here. The point of this post is really to talk about levels of intelligence.
The guy who recaps Doctor Who is quite obviously a super genius. Vast knowledge of religious literature, literary theory, linguistics, etc. Great, I love all of those things. The problem? His knowledge is overwhelming. He doesn't know how to hold back. There are three - five refereneces or allusions or angry tangents on every single page of the recap. What spurred me into this post was his complete inability to laugh at common physical humor. I'm the first person to roll my eyes at The Three Stooges and whatnot, but sometimes, sometimes, it's funny. I love Benny Hill. Ridiculously familiar sight gags are often funny, and I think it's because we don't feel any need to explain what we're supposed to be getting out of the gag. Mr. Bean doesn't do anything for me, but I don't use my "superiority" to humiliate others for laughing at "lowbrow," "common," "lazy" writing. Actually, sometimes "lowbrow" is far superior to "intellectual" writing.
My friend NGS bought me a book a few years ago because I had it on my wish list at Amazon. It was called The Origin of Stories and was vastly interesting. However, I struggled incredibly trying to read it. Why? The author couldn't just say what he needed to say. I would never shy away from three-dollar words with more than seven letters, but I also don't feel some kind of alpha-male-pissing-contest need to shove an "academic" word into every single sentence. It was a hard day's work weeding through the bullshit to get the heart of the story.
The Doctor Who recapper is intent on this phenomenon called "subtlety." Great - I love to connect the dots and consider it one of my strengths in life. I, like the recapper, hate to be hit over the head with explanation of what I'm supposed to be seeing/feeling/doing. Unlike the recapper, I don't see that happening in the show. If I did, I wouldn't be able to watch it. What I do see is intelligent writers who know how to marry every level of cognitive ability into an organically told story. I don't like to use the word intelligence here - again, the reason is a whole other entirely therapeutic post - but the fact is some people aren't able to see or interested in seeing the symbolism behind certain images/themes/repetitions. Should the authors care? Are they sacrificing artistic integrity by descending into the "lowbrow?" Are they perpetuating the dumbing-down of society by not making the audience work to understand allegory?
I don't care whether the answer to those questions is yes or no. I laughed when an alien was trying to run away from The Doctor, kept teleporting itself out of the situation, but The Doctor just kept teleporting it back because he has the ability to reverse teleportation devices (just go with it). It was just plain a funny sight gag. Now switch to reading the recap. Basically, it made me feel as though I didn't deserve to be considered intelligent because I laughed at something meant for the lower classes. I mean, the recapper was seriously appalled by this so-called "humor." It's the same in every recap whenever there is any kind of toilet humor. I HATE farting jokes, but even I was slightly amused at the episode where aliens who were compressed into suits of human skin kept farting because the gasses used in the compression needed to be released. Did I love it in every scene? No. But I appreciated the ability of the writers to insert as much comedy as they often do into a series which could, without it, be incredibly heavy-handed. I mean, in one episode (a powerful one, I'll give you), atomic-sized bacteria bring a little boy back from the dead and basically "heal" the whole human race in Blitz-torn London. Sorry, but I need humor there. I need dark and at times "lowbrow" humor to make it through something so heavy. Not that I don't hold horrific, true-to-life stories of that time period, like This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen in the highest esteem.
I think I often bristle at this recapper because he just seems so sure that his opinion and his level of intelligence are better than Joe Average's. Is he right? Maybe. But even though I know quite a bit about literary theory I don't sit watching television or reading a novel trying to apply literary theory to every fucking scene. The recapper once noted that he used to just let his story tell itself from the inside out - he used different language, more literary and academic, but he used to let his stories revel in their own cleverness. He's too mature and learned for that anymore. Why? I get the feeling he writes stories that try so hard to do everything literary theory thinks is brilliant. You KNOW how I feel about that.
I mean, the scene he became a permanent pearl-clutcher about went something like this: The Doctor + three go to confront aliens. Each are posted at a door. One of The Doctor's companions is just Bubba Nobody who used to be another main character's boyfriend but who isn't "clever" enough for the adventures in time. He's just an earthling along for this particular mission because he happens to live in that time period and has a connection to the characters. He's a bumbling idiot - at times, I will admit, to a frustrating degree. In this scene he gets his foot caught in a mop bucket and therefore isn't where he needs to be and the alien gets away (sort of). But - BUT - isn't that necessary because later he's going to be exactly where he needs to be and no one is expecting that out of him? Doesn't that make him complex, that he's not completely reliable and therefore not perfect? Do we want everyone to be a Mary Sue with perfect timing and always ready with the right solution? No. Characters need flaws. Writers need flaws. I think, I swear, I've talked about this before.
But anyway, another long, boring, angry post where I sound just like those recappers. Who's critiquing the critics? Infinite mirrors to the face of God.
Why do I keep going back? For the nuggets where I see something I didn't see before. For the tasty nut in the elephant poo. For the chance to bitch about the literati. Should I begin capitalizing that? I guess I feel like they're my Dalek race, genetically bred to kill anything different or inferior. If you don't get that reference, I won't judge you. It's just from a stupid British TV show, anyway.
My other new obsession is Doctor Who. I haven't ventured into the forum because I'm catching up on the episodes via Netflix, but I've been reading the recaps after watching each episode. Why do I need a recap, you might ask? Because sometimes the recappers, who are all fairly smart, catch something I didn't. And vice versa, but I won't get into that here. The point of this post is really to talk about levels of intelligence.
The guy who recaps Doctor Who is quite obviously a super genius. Vast knowledge of religious literature, literary theory, linguistics, etc. Great, I love all of those things. The problem? His knowledge is overwhelming. He doesn't know how to hold back. There are three - five refereneces or allusions or angry tangents on every single page of the recap. What spurred me into this post was his complete inability to laugh at common physical humor. I'm the first person to roll my eyes at The Three Stooges and whatnot, but sometimes, sometimes, it's funny. I love Benny Hill. Ridiculously familiar sight gags are often funny, and I think it's because we don't feel any need to explain what we're supposed to be getting out of the gag. Mr. Bean doesn't do anything for me, but I don't use my "superiority" to humiliate others for laughing at "lowbrow," "common," "lazy" writing. Actually, sometimes "lowbrow" is far superior to "intellectual" writing.
My friend NGS bought me a book a few years ago because I had it on my wish list at Amazon. It was called The Origin of Stories and was vastly interesting. However, I struggled incredibly trying to read it. Why? The author couldn't just say what he needed to say. I would never shy away from three-dollar words with more than seven letters, but I also don't feel some kind of alpha-male-pissing-contest need to shove an "academic" word into every single sentence. It was a hard day's work weeding through the bullshit to get the heart of the story.
The Doctor Who recapper is intent on this phenomenon called "subtlety." Great - I love to connect the dots and consider it one of my strengths in life. I, like the recapper, hate to be hit over the head with explanation of what I'm supposed to be seeing/feeling/doing. Unlike the recapper, I don't see that happening in the show. If I did, I wouldn't be able to watch it. What I do see is intelligent writers who know how to marry every level of cognitive ability into an organically told story. I don't like to use the word intelligence here - again, the reason is a whole other entirely therapeutic post - but the fact is some people aren't able to see or interested in seeing the symbolism behind certain images/themes/repetitions. Should the authors care? Are they sacrificing artistic integrity by descending into the "lowbrow?" Are they perpetuating the dumbing-down of society by not making the audience work to understand allegory?
I don't care whether the answer to those questions is yes or no. I laughed when an alien was trying to run away from The Doctor, kept teleporting itself out of the situation, but The Doctor just kept teleporting it back because he has the ability to reverse teleportation devices (just go with it). It was just plain a funny sight gag. Now switch to reading the recap. Basically, it made me feel as though I didn't deserve to be considered intelligent because I laughed at something meant for the lower classes. I mean, the recapper was seriously appalled by this so-called "humor." It's the same in every recap whenever there is any kind of toilet humor. I HATE farting jokes, but even I was slightly amused at the episode where aliens who were compressed into suits of human skin kept farting because the gasses used in the compression needed to be released. Did I love it in every scene? No. But I appreciated the ability of the writers to insert as much comedy as they often do into a series which could, without it, be incredibly heavy-handed. I mean, in one episode (a powerful one, I'll give you), atomic-sized bacteria bring a little boy back from the dead and basically "heal" the whole human race in Blitz-torn London. Sorry, but I need humor there. I need dark and at times "lowbrow" humor to make it through something so heavy. Not that I don't hold horrific, true-to-life stories of that time period, like This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen in the highest esteem.
I think I often bristle at this recapper because he just seems so sure that his opinion and his level of intelligence are better than Joe Average's. Is he right? Maybe. But even though I know quite a bit about literary theory I don't sit watching television or reading a novel trying to apply literary theory to every fucking scene. The recapper once noted that he used to just let his story tell itself from the inside out - he used different language, more literary and academic, but he used to let his stories revel in their own cleverness. He's too mature and learned for that anymore. Why? I get the feeling he writes stories that try so hard to do everything literary theory thinks is brilliant. You KNOW how I feel about that.
I mean, the scene he became a permanent pearl-clutcher about went something like this: The Doctor + three go to confront aliens. Each are posted at a door. One of The Doctor's companions is just Bubba Nobody who used to be another main character's boyfriend but who isn't "clever" enough for the adventures in time. He's just an earthling along for this particular mission because he happens to live in that time period and has a connection to the characters. He's a bumbling idiot - at times, I will admit, to a frustrating degree. In this scene he gets his foot caught in a mop bucket and therefore isn't where he needs to be and the alien gets away (sort of). But - BUT - isn't that necessary because later he's going to be exactly where he needs to be and no one is expecting that out of him? Doesn't that make him complex, that he's not completely reliable and therefore not perfect? Do we want everyone to be a Mary Sue with perfect timing and always ready with the right solution? No. Characters need flaws. Writers need flaws. I think, I swear, I've talked about this before.
But anyway, another long, boring, angry post where I sound just like those recappers. Who's critiquing the critics? Infinite mirrors to the face of God.
Why do I keep going back? For the nuggets where I see something I didn't see before. For the tasty nut in the elephant poo. For the chance to bitch about the literati. Should I begin capitalizing that? I guess I feel like they're my Dalek race, genetically bred to kill anything different or inferior. If you don't get that reference, I won't judge you. It's just from a stupid British TV show, anyway.
June 21, 2011
Insurance
Today, at about 2:30 p.m., I tooled around the web looking at medical insurance quotes following a conversation about priorities. I wanted to see if I could find a plan I could afford and which gave me the best deductible, coverage, etc. for a price I could afford monthly (answer = no plan exists). Most sites wanted my contact information before they would give me a quote, and since it is important I went ahead and put in my cell phone number and email, thinking I would probably get a few calls over the next few days or weeks from companies that had seen my inquiry.
Over the next few hours, I was called - wait for it - fourteen times. The poor first guy, who called from a local number, seemed kind enough, but the truth is I had been surfing those sites while communicating on my house phone to a tow truck company because my father had a flat tire somewhere near Columbus. (My father, being the old man he is, WOULD NOT go inside and get the actual adress of the gas station. He insisted on describing his whereabouts because he doesn't understand the drivers want to type an address into their GPSs and go. My mother had to go in and get the address when my mother arrived in my brother's van.)
Well, I answered the first guy's call because it was a local number, and my cell phone doesn't give names or businesses if it's a strange number, so I answered it hoping my mother hadn't gotten a flat or something on her way to help my father. The guy says, "Hi, this is Steve from _______ _________ Insurance, how are you?" And the poor guy, because I was just floored that he had called within five minutes of me looking at the website, now has no head because I shrieked, "This is a really bad time!" He seemed really apologetic and I didn't get to explain (because I didn't have time) but I just repeated that it was a bad time and said bye. I feel really bad for Steve because I'm sure his company makes him call people.
But maybe now, though I feel a little twinge of guilt, I don't feel so bad for Steve. Because thirteen calls later (which I gave up answering after the first few) I'm fuming. Fuming. I know, I know, I shouldn't have given them my phone number but I didn't expect fourteen calls within five or six hours. I only visited two websites, but they were the kind that compare quotes between companies so they probably gave my information to every one of those companies. One company, during the time I was on the phone to my mom because of the flat, called, I didn't pick up, the phone stopped ringing, then ten seconds later that same company called again. I couldn't pick up and I was so, so, so pissed.
I keep wondering: How many times do these customer service people go through this, where they call someone immediately after receiving information that the person has visited the website and had said person tell them they were, like, the tenth call in an hour? Why wouldn't they give the person a few days or a week or so? When I was venting to my dad, he reminded me they were trying to secure my business before any other company was able to. Yes, I'm aware, but trust me, harrassing me is sooooo not the way to do it.
Over the next few hours, I was called - wait for it - fourteen times. The poor first guy, who called from a local number, seemed kind enough, but the truth is I had been surfing those sites while communicating on my house phone to a tow truck company because my father had a flat tire somewhere near Columbus. (My father, being the old man he is, WOULD NOT go inside and get the actual adress of the gas station. He insisted on describing his whereabouts because he doesn't understand the drivers want to type an address into their GPSs and go. My mother had to go in and get the address when my mother arrived in my brother's van.)
Well, I answered the first guy's call because it was a local number, and my cell phone doesn't give names or businesses if it's a strange number, so I answered it hoping my mother hadn't gotten a flat or something on her way to help my father. The guy says, "Hi, this is Steve from _______ _________ Insurance, how are you?" And the poor guy, because I was just floored that he had called within five minutes of me looking at the website, now has no head because I shrieked, "This is a really bad time!" He seemed really apologetic and I didn't get to explain (because I didn't have time) but I just repeated that it was a bad time and said bye. I feel really bad for Steve because I'm sure his company makes him call people.
But maybe now, though I feel a little twinge of guilt, I don't feel so bad for Steve. Because thirteen calls later (which I gave up answering after the first few) I'm fuming. Fuming. I know, I know, I shouldn't have given them my phone number but I didn't expect fourteen calls within five or six hours. I only visited two websites, but they were the kind that compare quotes between companies so they probably gave my information to every one of those companies. One company, during the time I was on the phone to my mom because of the flat, called, I didn't pick up, the phone stopped ringing, then ten seconds later that same company called again. I couldn't pick up and I was so, so, so pissed.
I keep wondering: How many times do these customer service people go through this, where they call someone immediately after receiving information that the person has visited the website and had said person tell them they were, like, the tenth call in an hour? Why wouldn't they give the person a few days or a week or so? When I was venting to my dad, he reminded me they were trying to secure my business before any other company was able to. Yes, I'm aware, but trust me, harrassing me is sooooo not the way to do it.
June 14, 2011
Urban Fantasy
I had never heard of this genre of writing before, but it perfectly encapsulates the kind of writing I have always loved. While I enjoy fantasy here and there, knights and elves and witches and the like, I've really really always enjoyed books where our modern world and fantastic phenomena coexist. It's why I love magical realism.
A book Amazon recommended to me, Switched, by Amanda Hocking, is described as this kind of "urban fantasy." I LOVE this term. It is perfect for the kind of writing my favorite authors write. I would even put Harry Potter in this category because it is set in the modern world but deals with fantastic events. LOVE. Harry Potter most likely spawned this genre, or at least was the breakout star of it.
I'm excited to be able to tell people what I write when the ask, because they always stare blankly at me when I say magical realism and they roll their eyes when I say fantasy. "Urban fantasy" might at least get their attention.
A book Amazon recommended to me, Switched, by Amanda Hocking, is described as this kind of "urban fantasy." I LOVE this term. It is perfect for the kind of writing my favorite authors write. I would even put Harry Potter in this category because it is set in the modern world but deals with fantastic events. LOVE. Harry Potter most likely spawned this genre, or at least was the breakout star of it.
I'm excited to be able to tell people what I write when the ask, because they always stare blankly at me when I say magical realism and they roll their eyes when I say fantasy. "Urban fantasy" might at least get their attention.
June 12, 2011
For the people who keep trying to make me a social butterfly...I'm Emily Dickinson minus the suicide at 29.
I love my friends. In particular there are about four people whom I want to talk to on a regular basis (NGS, SM, CC, and WR). There are others whom I love and like to get together with here and there (CE). I love my family and am glad there's a way for me to contact my cousins and relatives if necessary. Facebook has its ups.
But for me, there are too many downs. I just opened my email account that I rarely use (but it's the one associated with Facebook) and found that on my birthday - in April, which should tell you how often I check that email - I had about twenty notifications saying people had wished me a happy birthday. I felt ashamed and quite bitchy that I hadn't gone on Facebook to thank them and that I hadn't noticed until more than a month later.
But Facebook scares me. What happens, and I think this happens to a lot of people, is you find friends you had long ago or acquaintances who were nice and you friend them or they request you and you accept. At first it's your best friends and some really good friends. Next it's a lot of people you went to high school with. Then it's members of your family (who are loveable and just want to keep in touch). Then it's the brother of your coworker, whom you met once. Then it's the creepy guy who knows your birthday even though you made it clear to him you didn't want to kiss him after that movie and even though he promises you will just be friends. Then a friend from high school starts sending you invitations to join Facebook clubs (five a friggin' day!), then it's please send me a goat for my farm, then it's just too much.
I missed three or so people requesting I "friend" them. One was my cousin's wife, one was an old friend, one name I didn't recognize. I know the advice I would get from the Facebook veterans: defriend the people you don't really want or give some kind of higher security to some people - that's possible right? But I feel like a total bitch because, you know, most of these people like me and just want a way to keep in touch.
And I don't think it would matter: I wouldn't keep up on my page. I...don't like socialization like that. I...don't want to "keep up appearances." I want a phone call from NGS to keep up on her world and an email from SM to see how she's doing and hilarious cartoons forwarded to me from CC. I want to do lunch with WR twice a year. I want to have a drink with CE every few months. And...that's it. Well, I want enough money to actually visit NGS for once.
What I'll probably do, tomorrow, is pop onto Facebook and apologize for being gone so long. I'll probably explain that websites like that just aren't my cup of tea, but I'll check on it like once a month. I'll reply to a few people, thank them for their birthday messages, friend my cousin's wife, and...exit stage left. For a month...or...so.
I love my friends. In particular there are about four people whom I want to talk to on a regular basis (NGS, SM, CC, and WR). There are others whom I love and like to get together with here and there (CE). I love my family and am glad there's a way for me to contact my cousins and relatives if necessary. Facebook has its ups.
But for me, there are too many downs. I just opened my email account that I rarely use (but it's the one associated with Facebook) and found that on my birthday - in April, which should tell you how often I check that email - I had about twenty notifications saying people had wished me a happy birthday. I felt ashamed and quite bitchy that I hadn't gone on Facebook to thank them and that I hadn't noticed until more than a month later.
But Facebook scares me. What happens, and I think this happens to a lot of people, is you find friends you had long ago or acquaintances who were nice and you friend them or they request you and you accept. At first it's your best friends and some really good friends. Next it's a lot of people you went to high school with. Then it's members of your family (who are loveable and just want to keep in touch). Then it's the brother of your coworker, whom you met once. Then it's the creepy guy who knows your birthday even though you made it clear to him you didn't want to kiss him after that movie and even though he promises you will just be friends. Then a friend from high school starts sending you invitations to join Facebook clubs (five a friggin' day!), then it's please send me a goat for my farm, then it's just too much.
I missed three or so people requesting I "friend" them. One was my cousin's wife, one was an old friend, one name I didn't recognize. I know the advice I would get from the Facebook veterans: defriend the people you don't really want or give some kind of higher security to some people - that's possible right? But I feel like a total bitch because, you know, most of these people like me and just want a way to keep in touch.
And I don't think it would matter: I wouldn't keep up on my page. I...don't like socialization like that. I...don't want to "keep up appearances." I want a phone call from NGS to keep up on her world and an email from SM to see how she's doing and hilarious cartoons forwarded to me from CC. I want to do lunch with WR twice a year. I want to have a drink with CE every few months. And...that's it. Well, I want enough money to actually visit NGS for once.
What I'll probably do, tomorrow, is pop onto Facebook and apologize for being gone so long. I'll probably explain that websites like that just aren't my cup of tea, but I'll check on it like once a month. I'll reply to a few people, thank them for their birthday messages, friend my cousin's wife, and...exit stage left. For a month...or...so.
June 2, 2011
Debt
Not too long ago my mother received a letter telling her she owed money to a credit card company. Let me make this clear: my mother has never had a credit card. Ever. She hasn't had credit good enough to be approved since she filed for bankruptcy in 1986 following my sister's motorcycle accident. My mother has so many bounced checks from the late 80s and early 90s she can't even get a checking account. Furthermore, the letter claimed she lived at an address in 2002 that she hadn't lived in since 1997. My mother called these people. I happened to walk into the house from work while she was on the phone with them and heard her arguing with them.
Me: "Hang up the phone, right now."
Her, to them: "I've never heard of this credit card."
Me: "You can't reason with them. You're just giving them what they want. Hang up."
Her: I didn't even live there in 2002."
Me: "Hang up. Now."
Anyway, eventually she hung up. BUT, not before confirming her social security number to them. Horrified, I tried to explain to her that they were probably fishing for information so they could use her social security number. At this point she blows up at me, telling me she's tired of having to deal with these stupid companies. She thought it was terrible OF ME to interrupt her on the phone. I took the letter from her and searched for the "collection agency" on the internet and found out they had received an "F" from the Better Business Bureau (BBB). I told her this information and told her to call her attorney. She sent them a copy of the letter and we're still waiting to hear back from them.
Since that day, my parents have begun to receive a slew of fraudulent letters. A few days ago my father was sent a $1900 check because he had been chosen to be a secret shopper. Sensing something dodgy, I decided to look this company up on the BBB as well. No listing. I looked for a webpage about them. Nothing. I put directions to the address on their letterhead into mapquest and the address doesn't exist. I told my father that and told him he should report this letter to someone, such as the BBB. I told him he should ask them what to do with the check and he said he didn't have time to worry about it and he would just throw it away. When I asked him if he had applied to be a secret shopper (the letter thanked him for his application), he said no, he hadn't applied for anything. He had no idea where they had found his name.
We're getting phone calls now from a lot of anonymous, private, or "unknown name, unknown numbers" who call ten times a day and who claim to be collecting debts my mother has never heard of. She wants me to just get a different phone number (the number is in my name), but that's not going to stop this. Now, I'm not going to pretend I don't have a few debts (not as many as I once did - I paid off all of my credit cards but one and now I'm working on some medical bills and that credit card). But I can't make my mother see that when we begin getting letters from fraudulent companies, running from it isn't a viable option (it's never a viable option). She needs to report these phone numbers and these letters to someone - such as her attorney.
Sometimes it's hard to know what to do. The one credit card I still have a debt to gave me a pretty bad run around and outright lied to me. The worst part was I would get phone calls from two completely separate companies about the same account. When I would say, "You just called me yesterday and I've already made my payment," the caller would say, "We didn't call you yesterday." When I would argue or when I would offer the phone number that had called me the previous day they would just say it wasn't their problem. I would ask if it showed that I had made a payment and they would say "Yes, but we don't know anything about a phone call." I would read the phone number to them and they would claim they had never heard of that phone number. I began to distrust this company. One month when I had gone over the limit I called them to ask how much I would need to pay to get my account under the limit and not have to make another payment until the next month. They gave me an amount. I asked, again, if that was the amount I needed to get under the limit and not have to make another payment until the next month and was told, oh, no you'll have to make another payment after this one because you'll just go over the limit again. I became so angry they sent me to a supervisor, who told me they had closed my account the month before. When I spoke to a third person, they told me they had actually closed my account in April - even though I hadn't missed a payment. I had been over the limit for two months (even though every month I would pay more than the minimum payment). They closed my account even though I was always paying more than the minimum. When I called them out on this they told me they can actually close my account for any purpose without warning. Which is certainly what they did to me, because they closed my account in April and I wasn't aware of it until July.
Anyway, I feel overwhelmed because I'm trying really hard to pay my legitimate debts. I can't pay them all at once, so I'm working on each one as much as I can. It means I do have to ignore some while I work on others. I hate admitting that. Right now, I'm focusing on the medical bills mainly because they're fairly small and I think I can get them out of the way quickly. I worry about what others think about me. I know a majority of Americans have some kind of debt and I know I'm not alone, but when you talk to collection agencies they tend to treat you like you're the scum of the Earth because you owe money and can't just pay it all at once. I had one tell me that if I had a job I had the money to pay the debt. When I disputed that idea, reminding her that a part-time job isn't much money, she said paying this debt (the medical bill) should be my first priority, and that it was just as important as rent or food. I laughed out loud and said, no, it isn't. I'm sorry, but it just isn't. I offered to pay $10 a month just so I could be paying something and she said that wasn't acceptable. I told her that was all I had and she asked me if that meant I was refusing to pay this debt, and I had no option but to say, "If that's the way you want to look at it."
Now that a lot of my other debt has gone away, I can focus on paying more than $10 a month to that medical bill. My biggest worry right now is how to weed out the legit companies from the fraudulent ones. I now have two companies, yet again, calling me about the credit card from the extremely long paragraph earlier in this post. I have to wonder if I'll be paying that debt twice. Neither company has sent me a letter (and under the Fair Debt Collections Act they are required to do so). They just call, ten times a day, and I've started to ignore them because I don't know who to talk to. I've gone through a consolidation company once, so I've begun looking into another one, this time one that will sit down to counselling sessions and actually help me. I feel frustrated and also like some kind of failure or some kind of rat hiding in some kind of sewer. Am I a horrible person because I'm trying to do what I can with what I have? I know I created this problem. I try to convince myself that at least I'm doing something to fix it.
Me: "Hang up the phone, right now."
Her, to them: "I've never heard of this credit card."
Me: "You can't reason with them. You're just giving them what they want. Hang up."
Her: I didn't even live there in 2002."
Me: "Hang up. Now."
Anyway, eventually she hung up. BUT, not before confirming her social security number to them. Horrified, I tried to explain to her that they were probably fishing for information so they could use her social security number. At this point she blows up at me, telling me she's tired of having to deal with these stupid companies. She thought it was terrible OF ME to interrupt her on the phone. I took the letter from her and searched for the "collection agency" on the internet and found out they had received an "F" from the Better Business Bureau (BBB). I told her this information and told her to call her attorney. She sent them a copy of the letter and we're still waiting to hear back from them.
Since that day, my parents have begun to receive a slew of fraudulent letters. A few days ago my father was sent a $1900 check because he had been chosen to be a secret shopper. Sensing something dodgy, I decided to look this company up on the BBB as well. No listing. I looked for a webpage about them. Nothing. I put directions to the address on their letterhead into mapquest and the address doesn't exist. I told my father that and told him he should report this letter to someone, such as the BBB. I told him he should ask them what to do with the check and he said he didn't have time to worry about it and he would just throw it away. When I asked him if he had applied to be a secret shopper (the letter thanked him for his application), he said no, he hadn't applied for anything. He had no idea where they had found his name.
We're getting phone calls now from a lot of anonymous, private, or "unknown name, unknown numbers" who call ten times a day and who claim to be collecting debts my mother has never heard of. She wants me to just get a different phone number (the number is in my name), but that's not going to stop this. Now, I'm not going to pretend I don't have a few debts (not as many as I once did - I paid off all of my credit cards but one and now I'm working on some medical bills and that credit card). But I can't make my mother see that when we begin getting letters from fraudulent companies, running from it isn't a viable option (it's never a viable option). She needs to report these phone numbers and these letters to someone - such as her attorney.
Sometimes it's hard to know what to do. The one credit card I still have a debt to gave me a pretty bad run around and outright lied to me. The worst part was I would get phone calls from two completely separate companies about the same account. When I would say, "You just called me yesterday and I've already made my payment," the caller would say, "We didn't call you yesterday." When I would argue or when I would offer the phone number that had called me the previous day they would just say it wasn't their problem. I would ask if it showed that I had made a payment and they would say "Yes, but we don't know anything about a phone call." I would read the phone number to them and they would claim they had never heard of that phone number. I began to distrust this company. One month when I had gone over the limit I called them to ask how much I would need to pay to get my account under the limit and not have to make another payment until the next month. They gave me an amount. I asked, again, if that was the amount I needed to get under the limit and not have to make another payment until the next month and was told, oh, no you'll have to make another payment after this one because you'll just go over the limit again. I became so angry they sent me to a supervisor, who told me they had closed my account the month before. When I spoke to a third person, they told me they had actually closed my account in April - even though I hadn't missed a payment. I had been over the limit for two months (even though every month I would pay more than the minimum payment). They closed my account even though I was always paying more than the minimum. When I called them out on this they told me they can actually close my account for any purpose without warning. Which is certainly what they did to me, because they closed my account in April and I wasn't aware of it until July.
Anyway, I feel overwhelmed because I'm trying really hard to pay my legitimate debts. I can't pay them all at once, so I'm working on each one as much as I can. It means I do have to ignore some while I work on others. I hate admitting that. Right now, I'm focusing on the medical bills mainly because they're fairly small and I think I can get them out of the way quickly. I worry about what others think about me. I know a majority of Americans have some kind of debt and I know I'm not alone, but when you talk to collection agencies they tend to treat you like you're the scum of the Earth because you owe money and can't just pay it all at once. I had one tell me that if I had a job I had the money to pay the debt. When I disputed that idea, reminding her that a part-time job isn't much money, she said paying this debt (the medical bill) should be my first priority, and that it was just as important as rent or food. I laughed out loud and said, no, it isn't. I'm sorry, but it just isn't. I offered to pay $10 a month just so I could be paying something and she said that wasn't acceptable. I told her that was all I had and she asked me if that meant I was refusing to pay this debt, and I had no option but to say, "If that's the way you want to look at it."
Now that a lot of my other debt has gone away, I can focus on paying more than $10 a month to that medical bill. My biggest worry right now is how to weed out the legit companies from the fraudulent ones. I now have two companies, yet again, calling me about the credit card from the extremely long paragraph earlier in this post. I have to wonder if I'll be paying that debt twice. Neither company has sent me a letter (and under the Fair Debt Collections Act they are required to do so). They just call, ten times a day, and I've started to ignore them because I don't know who to talk to. I've gone through a consolidation company once, so I've begun looking into another one, this time one that will sit down to counselling sessions and actually help me. I feel frustrated and also like some kind of failure or some kind of rat hiding in some kind of sewer. Am I a horrible person because I'm trying to do what I can with what I have? I know I created this problem. I try to convince myself that at least I'm doing something to fix it.
April 24, 2011
Bully Tactics
Sorry I haven't posted in a long time.
Hee.
Anyway, I had a really bad day yesterday. A customer came into the store I work at to return some items that were damaged. The problem was she had clearly had the items for a long time and had clearly used them frequently. When I tried to explain why I was questioning how the items had become defective she blew up. She started yelling. She started screaming that she only had this problem when she tries to return items with me (establishing that she has a habit of returning questionable items). I tried to explain we have to be able to protect our company from people just returning items for any reason and we have to establish policies and she started cussing and making smartass remarks. Then she started threatening to call our corporate office to report me and to tell them she would just have to shop in another store from now on. That's when another manager stepped in, agreed with her that her damages might be a manufacturer's defect, and agreed to return the items. (One item wasn't as questionable as the other.)
While the other manager was looking for the items in the store, the angry customer began going up to other customers to tell them what a horrible person I am. You know what? I shouldn't have to take that because it's bullying. It was bullying the moment she raised her voice and especially when she tried to threaten my job by calling our corporate office. She knew I couldn't be smartass back to her; she knew I couldn't raise my voice back to her; she knew I couldn't go up to other customers and tell them what a horrible person she is. (I know I don't have to anyway - one of those customers came up to me and told me she thought the woman's behavior was totally inappropriate.)
But the point is now I have to worry about what's going to happen when she calls corporate. Because even though she got what she wanted, she's still going to call them and you know it. Are they going to tell me that despite what they say about returning used items I should have just understood that's all smoke and mirrors? I should never question a customer's return? We've turned down lots of returns in my years there and here's the great message I've learned: If you're nice and follow the rules you'll get screwed and if you're mean and throw a tantrum you'll get your way. Isn't that lovely? The other manager tried to remind me that from a business standpoint we were losing a few dollars but keeping her happy would get us a lot of money in return. That's all well and fine from a business standpoint, but what about from a human standpoint?
We've had plenty of customers leave with what we thought was an understanding of why we didn't let them return their items only to learn they called corporate after they left. So how does corporate expect us to make a decision, ever?
The truth is, I don't give a fuck about returning a damaged item. If the company told me tomorrow to never question another return? Cool beans because I could care less. But when they tell me out of one side of their mouths they have a "policy" then blow smoke about "the customer is always right" out of the other side - that's bullying too.
This is the very first time I've ever been complained about in 5 1/2 years of employment with this company. I have to call them and give them my side of the story on Tuesday (when I get back to work) and see how I should handle this customer in the future. They're going to tell me I was wrong - we're always wrong - or they're going to tell me I was right but then tell the customer I was wrong - which is something several employees say has happened. Usually they'll tell you that if that customer returns another questionable item, you should tell her you'll return it this time but it will be the last time she can return any item unless it is in original condition regardless of reason. But then the customer will try to return another used item and you'll stick to the "policy" you gave her before, but she'll call corporate who will call you and tell you to go ahead and return it for her and give her a coupon for her troubles. (This actually happened to my store manager.)
It's a gigantic bullying tactic and I'm not sure how tolerant of this outcome I'll be when I'm in the middle of it. Stay tuned.
Hee.
Anyway, I had a really bad day yesterday. A customer came into the store I work at to return some items that were damaged. The problem was she had clearly had the items for a long time and had clearly used them frequently. When I tried to explain why I was questioning how the items had become defective she blew up. She started yelling. She started screaming that she only had this problem when she tries to return items with me (establishing that she has a habit of returning questionable items). I tried to explain we have to be able to protect our company from people just returning items for any reason and we have to establish policies and she started cussing and making smartass remarks. Then she started threatening to call our corporate office to report me and to tell them she would just have to shop in another store from now on. That's when another manager stepped in, agreed with her that her damages might be a manufacturer's defect, and agreed to return the items. (One item wasn't as questionable as the other.)
While the other manager was looking for the items in the store, the angry customer began going up to other customers to tell them what a horrible person I am. You know what? I shouldn't have to take that because it's bullying. It was bullying the moment she raised her voice and especially when she tried to threaten my job by calling our corporate office. She knew I couldn't be smartass back to her; she knew I couldn't raise my voice back to her; she knew I couldn't go up to other customers and tell them what a horrible person she is. (I know I don't have to anyway - one of those customers came up to me and told me she thought the woman's behavior was totally inappropriate.)
But the point is now I have to worry about what's going to happen when she calls corporate. Because even though she got what she wanted, she's still going to call them and you know it. Are they going to tell me that despite what they say about returning used items I should have just understood that's all smoke and mirrors? I should never question a customer's return? We've turned down lots of returns in my years there and here's the great message I've learned: If you're nice and follow the rules you'll get screwed and if you're mean and throw a tantrum you'll get your way. Isn't that lovely? The other manager tried to remind me that from a business standpoint we were losing a few dollars but keeping her happy would get us a lot of money in return. That's all well and fine from a business standpoint, but what about from a human standpoint?
We've had plenty of customers leave with what we thought was an understanding of why we didn't let them return their items only to learn they called corporate after they left. So how does corporate expect us to make a decision, ever?
The truth is, I don't give a fuck about returning a damaged item. If the company told me tomorrow to never question another return? Cool beans because I could care less. But when they tell me out of one side of their mouths they have a "policy" then blow smoke about "the customer is always right" out of the other side - that's bullying too.
This is the very first time I've ever been complained about in 5 1/2 years of employment with this company. I have to call them and give them my side of the story on Tuesday (when I get back to work) and see how I should handle this customer in the future. They're going to tell me I was wrong - we're always wrong - or they're going to tell me I was right but then tell the customer I was wrong - which is something several employees say has happened. Usually they'll tell you that if that customer returns another questionable item, you should tell her you'll return it this time but it will be the last time she can return any item unless it is in original condition regardless of reason. But then the customer will try to return another used item and you'll stick to the "policy" you gave her before, but she'll call corporate who will call you and tell you to go ahead and return it for her and give her a coupon for her troubles. (This actually happened to my store manager.)
It's a gigantic bullying tactic and I'm not sure how tolerant of this outcome I'll be when I'm in the middle of it. Stay tuned.
February 19, 2011
Acne
Whenever a teenage girl talks about having a pimple on her chin or forehead, I want to kick her in the taco (to quote Glee). I'm going-on thirty-two years old and I still have acne and it ain't one or two little ones. My acne is more like multiple puss-engorged, painful boils prominently featured like unicorn horns or like a hemorrhoid on my butt-chin. My breakouts are also like some kind of diaspora - the acne migrates, sometimes spending a month spread across my neck to spending a few weeks across my cheeks. Moving my face hurts.
Well, actually, that's all changing.
I began using three Neutrogena products a few weeks ago and the difference so far is actually astounding. First I wash my face in a cream-based acne wash with microbeads that moisturizes, then I wash with a gel-base that foams (which dries), then I moisturize again with a special lotion. Right now, there is no acne on my forehead or my chin, and there are only a few little tiny spots on my cheeks and some non-pussy bumps on my neck. They look more like knots than pimples. I can actually touch my face and not a) feel greasy or b) wince in pain or c) come away bleeding. The washes are also soft enough so I can use them three times a day without feeling like my face is on fire.
This was the problem with Proactive, Arbonne, Mary Kay, a special spa formula a friend who works at a spa gave me, and an old Neutrogena regimen that was split into night a day. When I was using the Arbonne, I had a customer at my job tell me that my eyebrows were bleeding. I had scratched them raw. Others asked me if I had a sunburn. Everyone told me that meant the medicine was working. You know that old commercial for aftershave where the grandfather says to his grandson, "The burn says it's working!" and then he realizes his new improved aftershave doesn't burn and THEN he realizes it never should have? Yeah.
Because I have acne scars and red spots, people (my mother especially) still try to suggest medicines. I tell them I have used antibiotic creams prescribed by dermatologists that only made my acne worse. I wish they would leave me alone. I've tried starting a routine like the one I have now for years but it kept getting interrupted by people giving me samples of what worked for them or whatever they're selling. I would tell them every time that Neutrogena works for me and is usually gentle enough so I could use it daily. They would look at my face (which of course I had only been able to use it for a limited time so it hadn't started working yet) and say I should try their products.
I understood they thought they were helping, but it often came off as incredibly rude. A little girl shopping with her mother once asked me what happened to my face. Her mother was horrified, of course, but I brushed it off as a little girl who didn't understand acne because she had never encountered it (this happened when I was walking down the street once, too). Adults who come up to me and basically say, "I noticed something is wrong with your face," is rude. It puts me in the position of either having to politely agree to test their suggestions or to politely defend myself (which makes them feel like I like being dirty - I'm obviously not interested in trying, you know?). It's frustrating and you know what? It makes me want to cry.
Anyway, hopefully those days are over.
Well, actually, that's all changing.
I began using three Neutrogena products a few weeks ago and the difference so far is actually astounding. First I wash my face in a cream-based acne wash with microbeads that moisturizes, then I wash with a gel-base that foams (which dries), then I moisturize again with a special lotion. Right now, there is no acne on my forehead or my chin, and there are only a few little tiny spots on my cheeks and some non-pussy bumps on my neck. They look more like knots than pimples. I can actually touch my face and not a) feel greasy or b) wince in pain or c) come away bleeding. The washes are also soft enough so I can use them three times a day without feeling like my face is on fire.
This was the problem with Proactive, Arbonne, Mary Kay, a special spa formula a friend who works at a spa gave me, and an old Neutrogena regimen that was split into night a day. When I was using the Arbonne, I had a customer at my job tell me that my eyebrows were bleeding. I had scratched them raw. Others asked me if I had a sunburn. Everyone told me that meant the medicine was working. You know that old commercial for aftershave where the grandfather says to his grandson, "The burn says it's working!" and then he realizes his new improved aftershave doesn't burn and THEN he realizes it never should have? Yeah.
Because I have acne scars and red spots, people (my mother especially) still try to suggest medicines. I tell them I have used antibiotic creams prescribed by dermatologists that only made my acne worse. I wish they would leave me alone. I've tried starting a routine like the one I have now for years but it kept getting interrupted by people giving me samples of what worked for them or whatever they're selling. I would tell them every time that Neutrogena works for me and is usually gentle enough so I could use it daily. They would look at my face (which of course I had only been able to use it for a limited time so it hadn't started working yet) and say I should try their products.
I understood they thought they were helping, but it often came off as incredibly rude. A little girl shopping with her mother once asked me what happened to my face. Her mother was horrified, of course, but I brushed it off as a little girl who didn't understand acne because she had never encountered it (this happened when I was walking down the street once, too). Adults who come up to me and basically say, "I noticed something is wrong with your face," is rude. It puts me in the position of either having to politely agree to test their suggestions or to politely defend myself (which makes them feel like I like being dirty - I'm obviously not interested in trying, you know?). It's frustrating and you know what? It makes me want to cry.
Anyway, hopefully those days are over.
January 22, 2011
Speech Patterns
I'm a linguist. I notice patterns of speech and I understand that people have manners of speaking which reflect the way they think. I try to be patient when someone says fifteen sentences with barely a breath or a pause. I try to be patient when people speak really, really slowly because their brains have to think about each word they're saying. I try to be patient with dialect, accent, and odd stresses. This is why my biggest pet peeve on the face of the Earth is interruption.
Interrupting someone frustrates that person. It can often confuse that person. I know it isn't always easy to be patient when a person takes two minutes to make a statement she could have said in thirty seconds. I know we don't always have two minutes to spare. But maybe that person can't complete a thought in thirty seconds. Maybe that person has trouble speaking. The fact is it doesn't matter. It's a sad world when we can't take the time to just listen to another human being and be patient.
I get frustrated almost to the point of tears at the smallest interruption. I have trouble finishing a sentence and often I pause where it feels like an ending is coming to think about how I'm going to end. A lot of people try to finish the sentence for me. I try, really hard, to understand that I've paused and they think it's okay to speak but I obviously didn't complete my thought because they feel they must complete it for me. Please don't. Often, nine times out of ten, I will follow up their suggestion with, "No, that's not what I was going to say." Nine times out of those nine times, they follow it up with another suggestion. Usually I get really quiet at this point and I kind of stare at them, not even answering whether they got it right this time. Nine times out of those nine times, the second suggestion is equally wrong. What I do is stay quiet, then when I've finally worked out how to word the ending how I wanted to I just state said ending and walk away.
Please don't try to offer a word when I'm struggling for the right word. Don't begin to bark seemingly related words at me. I see this often in my job, not just with myself. A customer will come in, need something like a shawl and be trying to describe a shawl, and it will go something like this:
Customer: I have a dress with spaghetti straps...
Coworker: So you need a sweater to go over it?
Customer: Not a sweater, but my arms are bare and I was thinking...
Coworker: More like a shrug? A really short one like this? What color?
Customer: (becoming frustrated) I don't want that either.
Coworker: So you want like a jacket?
Customer: (firmly) No.
But you know, at this point I would have walked out. I get a bit of flack from my fellow workers because when a customer is struggling to describe what she needs, I just let her struggle. I usually give a person about fifteen seconds to come up with a word she can't think of before I make one suggestion. If that isn't the right suggestion, I ask her one question. A good deal of the time the question acts as a trigger. If it doesn't I change the subject, but keep the subject related to the customer's needs. It has always worked out in the end.
When a person interrupts me to ask a question that would have been answered had she waited until I was finished speaking, I get extremely angry. I get short with that person. This happened today with a coworker, and right now I'm typing this through a splitting headache because the more this person did things like that the more visibly frustrated I became with her. She eventually confronted me, and when I expressed my feelings she said something like, "Well now I know you don't like being interrupted," which isn't an apology. Then she acted upset with me so I asked her if she was. She said she felt I had been condescending toward her. And I said I didn't mean to be but I didn't apologize and the really, really childish part is that I didn't apologize because she didn't either. Part of me feels really bad but part of me, the part that came home and bawled into my pillow, feels like her behavior isn't going to change, or like she's saying my frustration is my own problem.
I've tried to talk about this before with other coworkers and the consensus seems to be that interrupting is a common behavior and so I just need to deal with it. When I got written up earlier this year for correcting someone's grammar, I was told I had made that girl feel stupid. Correcting someone's grammar isn't a common behavior because it's how "smart" people try to show how smart they are and how stupid other people are. How this whole situation makes me feel is that it's okay to hurt my feelings. It's okay to make me frustrated. It's okay because it's me.
The funny thing is that I only corrected someone's grammar once. I did it because she was writing on a piece of paper the rest of the staff would see, and we were alone and it was an easy fix, and so I told her how to fix it so no one else would ever know she had used the wrong word. When I was told it hurt her feelings, I never corrected someone's grammar again. Not even in private. I respected her feelings. It's all I want out of everyone else.
When my coworker confronted me, I got really nervous because I knew I was going to have to tell her how she had upset me. And I knew she wasn't going to care how I felt. I almost started crying right there and I tried to tell her it was nothing, but she kept asking until I finally told her. The rest of the day was just awkward.
I've been asking myself over and over if it was all my fault. There was an earlier incident where she said I was curt with her, and maybe I was, and maybe that was a big misunderstanding and the interruptions just compounded the whole situation, but the interruptions are a daily thing from multiple people and so that part was not me just being overly sensitive. I would have apologized for the earlier incident had she apologized for the interruptions. (How "I know you are but what am I" was that whole sentence?)
But all-in-all I think it's a problem with the world right now. I think interrupting others is a form of saying, "My thought's more important than yours," or "You haven't given me all the information I need in the first five words." I often get short when I say five words like, "I was in the backroom..." and the other person says, "What were you doing back there?" but they don't say it like they're eager for the next part but like they missed where I said what I was doing back there. "What were you doing?" And I bite my lip and sometimes I say, "I haven't even begun the story yet." And they get upset. And then I feel bad. Except, you know, I shouldn't.
I just spent the last two hours venting into this little white screen. I know I'll feel better that I got it out somewhere. This all goes back to wanting people to listen to each other. I feel like this is sorely lacking in the world. Sometimes I wonder if I'm holding people to too high a standard. Or if I'm just a raging bitch and their behaviors are just fine. I don't know. I don't know.
Interrupting someone frustrates that person. It can often confuse that person. I know it isn't always easy to be patient when a person takes two minutes to make a statement she could have said in thirty seconds. I know we don't always have two minutes to spare. But maybe that person can't complete a thought in thirty seconds. Maybe that person has trouble speaking. The fact is it doesn't matter. It's a sad world when we can't take the time to just listen to another human being and be patient.
I get frustrated almost to the point of tears at the smallest interruption. I have trouble finishing a sentence and often I pause where it feels like an ending is coming to think about how I'm going to end. A lot of people try to finish the sentence for me. I try, really hard, to understand that I've paused and they think it's okay to speak but I obviously didn't complete my thought because they feel they must complete it for me. Please don't. Often, nine times out of ten, I will follow up their suggestion with, "No, that's not what I was going to say." Nine times out of those nine times, they follow it up with another suggestion. Usually I get really quiet at this point and I kind of stare at them, not even answering whether they got it right this time. Nine times out of those nine times, the second suggestion is equally wrong. What I do is stay quiet, then when I've finally worked out how to word the ending how I wanted to I just state said ending and walk away.
Please don't try to offer a word when I'm struggling for the right word. Don't begin to bark seemingly related words at me. I see this often in my job, not just with myself. A customer will come in, need something like a shawl and be trying to describe a shawl, and it will go something like this:
Customer: I have a dress with spaghetti straps...
Coworker: So you need a sweater to go over it?
Customer: Not a sweater, but my arms are bare and I was thinking...
Coworker: More like a shrug? A really short one like this? What color?
Customer: (becoming frustrated) I don't want that either.
Coworker: So you want like a jacket?
Customer: (firmly) No.
But you know, at this point I would have walked out. I get a bit of flack from my fellow workers because when a customer is struggling to describe what she needs, I just let her struggle. I usually give a person about fifteen seconds to come up with a word she can't think of before I make one suggestion. If that isn't the right suggestion, I ask her one question. A good deal of the time the question acts as a trigger. If it doesn't I change the subject, but keep the subject related to the customer's needs. It has always worked out in the end.
When a person interrupts me to ask a question that would have been answered had she waited until I was finished speaking, I get extremely angry. I get short with that person. This happened today with a coworker, and right now I'm typing this through a splitting headache because the more this person did things like that the more visibly frustrated I became with her. She eventually confronted me, and when I expressed my feelings she said something like, "Well now I know you don't like being interrupted," which isn't an apology. Then she acted upset with me so I asked her if she was. She said she felt I had been condescending toward her. And I said I didn't mean to be but I didn't apologize and the really, really childish part is that I didn't apologize because she didn't either. Part of me feels really bad but part of me, the part that came home and bawled into my pillow, feels like her behavior isn't going to change, or like she's saying my frustration is my own problem.
I've tried to talk about this before with other coworkers and the consensus seems to be that interrupting is a common behavior and so I just need to deal with it. When I got written up earlier this year for correcting someone's grammar, I was told I had made that girl feel stupid. Correcting someone's grammar isn't a common behavior because it's how "smart" people try to show how smart they are and how stupid other people are. How this whole situation makes me feel is that it's okay to hurt my feelings. It's okay to make me frustrated. It's okay because it's me.
The funny thing is that I only corrected someone's grammar once. I did it because she was writing on a piece of paper the rest of the staff would see, and we were alone and it was an easy fix, and so I told her how to fix it so no one else would ever know she had used the wrong word. When I was told it hurt her feelings, I never corrected someone's grammar again. Not even in private. I respected her feelings. It's all I want out of everyone else.
When my coworker confronted me, I got really nervous because I knew I was going to have to tell her how she had upset me. And I knew she wasn't going to care how I felt. I almost started crying right there and I tried to tell her it was nothing, but she kept asking until I finally told her. The rest of the day was just awkward.
I've been asking myself over and over if it was all my fault. There was an earlier incident where she said I was curt with her, and maybe I was, and maybe that was a big misunderstanding and the interruptions just compounded the whole situation, but the interruptions are a daily thing from multiple people and so that part was not me just being overly sensitive. I would have apologized for the earlier incident had she apologized for the interruptions. (How "I know you are but what am I" was that whole sentence?)
But all-in-all I think it's a problem with the world right now. I think interrupting others is a form of saying, "My thought's more important than yours," or "You haven't given me all the information I need in the first five words." I often get short when I say five words like, "I was in the backroom..." and the other person says, "What were you doing back there?" but they don't say it like they're eager for the next part but like they missed where I said what I was doing back there. "What were you doing?" And I bite my lip and sometimes I say, "I haven't even begun the story yet." And they get upset. And then I feel bad. Except, you know, I shouldn't.
I just spent the last two hours venting into this little white screen. I know I'll feel better that I got it out somewhere. This all goes back to wanting people to listen to each other. I feel like this is sorely lacking in the world. Sometimes I wonder if I'm holding people to too high a standard. Or if I'm just a raging bitch and their behaviors are just fine. I don't know. I don't know.
January 21, 2011
Dream-Eating
Another "If I had the money to..." post:
If I had the money to buy any kind of food, some things I would buy:
Wasabi-flavored mayonnaise
Flavored creamer that is actually cream and is kept in the fridge
Flavored coffee, so the creamer and the coffee blend uniquely
Good salad ingredients, which means no iceberg lettuce (disgusting):
fresh mushrooms
kapers!
olives
crumbly cheeses
a variety of salad dressings
Multiple choices of drinks (not just one drink for three days, then another for three days, etc.):
vegetable juice
chocolate milk
juice smoothies
Fresh fruit:
strawberries
plums!
blackberries!
pineapple
kiwi (though in small doses due to mild allergy)
fresh vegetables:
asparagus
squash
To be continued when I get back from work....
If I had the money to buy any kind of food, some things I would buy:
Wasabi-flavored mayonnaise
Flavored creamer that is actually cream and is kept in the fridge
Flavored coffee, so the creamer and the coffee blend uniquely
Good salad ingredients, which means no iceberg lettuce (disgusting):
fresh mushrooms
kapers!
olives
crumbly cheeses
a variety of salad dressings
Multiple choices of drinks (not just one drink for three days, then another for three days, etc.):
vegetable juice
chocolate milk
juice smoothies
Fresh fruit:
strawberries
plums!
blackberries!
pineapple
kiwi (though in small doses due to mild allergy)
fresh vegetables:
asparagus
squash
To be continued when I get back from work....
January 17, 2011
I'm a Dork
Why do I get so riled up about stupid things? I joined Goodreads not too long ago and I reviewed about five books and one of them, of course, was Self-Editing for Fiction Writers because I believe people should know about the abomination that is this book.
I got a reply. And if the reply had stuck to saying how he/she felt the book was helpful because of X,Y, and Z, it would have been fine and I would have said, "That's cool." But instead, it was a well-worded attack on my character. Basically, the replier told a story about a girl in a writing workshop who wouldn't listen to anyone's criticisms because she felt she was too brilliant to follow the rules. Then the replier went on to explain why real writers can "violate" the rules and why too much mediocre writing comes from people who feel that following the rules is somehow in opposition to being brilliant.
So I replied. With a long-winded explanation of why I hate THIS BOOK SPECIFICALLY. I listed other "on writing" books I admire and why I admire them and why THIS BOOK, in my opinion, is perpetuating mediocre writing. I also told the replier that I didn't appreciate her insinuation that I was a brat who didn't want to learn the rules and who just wanted people to think I'm brilliant. I didn't appreciate her comment being an attack on my character based on a book I didn't like that she did. (I'm assuming here the person was a female; I don't know honestly.) I invited her to try to change my mind about THIS BOOK.
The problem with my original review is that I made the mistake of saying that you can't put a prescription on artistic endeavors. I stood by that in my reply, but I explained that while I understand there must be rules we follow in order to separate good writing from bad writing, that doesn't mean it has to be prescriptive and in fact just shouldn't be. "Rules" can be presented in a subjective manner. What Self-Editing for Fiction Writers does is offer objective prescriptions of rules authors should follow if they want to be published. That has nothing to do with brilliance whatsoever. That has nothing to do with producing original or even good writing. It has everything to do with producing writing where these publishers can check boxes off of a list to make sure the writing they're publishing follows their rules. This leads to a homogenization of writing styles and techniques - and you know I feel I'm already seeing this in anthologies like The Best American Short Stories.
And what really upsets me is they basically say that if books like The Great Gatsby had come across their desks they wouldn't have published it as is. Well, and you would have been fools. Milton wrote a second poem after Paradise Lost. It is called Paradise Regained. It's written perfectly and was critically acclaimed during its day. Guess what? No one remembers that second poem. It is often flaws that elevate art to a higher level. It is often mistakes and experiments that lead to a new genre or style. We need something to debate or what is the purpose of talking about a piece of art for more than a year or two?
I should just freaking stay away from commenting and reviewing and what-have-you. I don't know why I take it all so personally.
I got a reply. And if the reply had stuck to saying how he/she felt the book was helpful because of X,Y, and Z, it would have been fine and I would have said, "That's cool." But instead, it was a well-worded attack on my character. Basically, the replier told a story about a girl in a writing workshop who wouldn't listen to anyone's criticisms because she felt she was too brilliant to follow the rules. Then the replier went on to explain why real writers can "violate" the rules and why too much mediocre writing comes from people who feel that following the rules is somehow in opposition to being brilliant.
So I replied. With a long-winded explanation of why I hate THIS BOOK SPECIFICALLY. I listed other "on writing" books I admire and why I admire them and why THIS BOOK, in my opinion, is perpetuating mediocre writing. I also told the replier that I didn't appreciate her insinuation that I was a brat who didn't want to learn the rules and who just wanted people to think I'm brilliant. I didn't appreciate her comment being an attack on my character based on a book I didn't like that she did. (I'm assuming here the person was a female; I don't know honestly.) I invited her to try to change my mind about THIS BOOK.
The problem with my original review is that I made the mistake of saying that you can't put a prescription on artistic endeavors. I stood by that in my reply, but I explained that while I understand there must be rules we follow in order to separate good writing from bad writing, that doesn't mean it has to be prescriptive and in fact just shouldn't be. "Rules" can be presented in a subjective manner. What Self-Editing for Fiction Writers does is offer objective prescriptions of rules authors should follow if they want to be published. That has nothing to do with brilliance whatsoever. That has nothing to do with producing original or even good writing. It has everything to do with producing writing where these publishers can check boxes off of a list to make sure the writing they're publishing follows their rules. This leads to a homogenization of writing styles and techniques - and you know I feel I'm already seeing this in anthologies like The Best American Short Stories.
And what really upsets me is they basically say that if books like The Great Gatsby had come across their desks they wouldn't have published it as is. Well, and you would have been fools. Milton wrote a second poem after Paradise Lost. It is called Paradise Regained. It's written perfectly and was critically acclaimed during its day. Guess what? No one remembers that second poem. It is often flaws that elevate art to a higher level. It is often mistakes and experiments that lead to a new genre or style. We need something to debate or what is the purpose of talking about a piece of art for more than a year or two?
I should just freaking stay away from commenting and reviewing and what-have-you. I don't know why I take it all so personally.
Complaining
I'm going to use this blog to do a little complaining. I feel I need to vent about certain things. You see, I'm a "sweat the small things" kind of person. Little things get to me far more than stress about bills or where my life is going. Here's the daily rant:
I just went downstairs to make breakfast and my nephew was eating ice cream. I looked over to the coffee pot (which is next to the fridge so a lot of food gets made on the counter in front of the coffee pot) and there were all these puddles of ice cream where he just sloppily spooned it into the cup. I didn't clean it up. I refuse to. I'm also not going to be the one who says anything to him about it because we all know where that will lead. I just fixed breakfast ignoring the puddles, and when my mother comes back one of two things will happen. She will either yell at him and he will deny he did it, or she will just quietly clean it up and pretend like he isn't a giant, lazy asshole. There was a towel right next to him on the counter, for the record. He wouldn't have even needed to move anything but his arm.
Here's my mother back from taking my sister to work, let's see what she does: quietly cleaned it up.
I just went downstairs to make breakfast and my nephew was eating ice cream. I looked over to the coffee pot (which is next to the fridge so a lot of food gets made on the counter in front of the coffee pot) and there were all these puddles of ice cream where he just sloppily spooned it into the cup. I didn't clean it up. I refuse to. I'm also not going to be the one who says anything to him about it because we all know where that will lead. I just fixed breakfast ignoring the puddles, and when my mother comes back one of two things will happen. She will either yell at him and he will deny he did it, or she will just quietly clean it up and pretend like he isn't a giant, lazy asshole. There was a towel right next to him on the counter, for the record. He wouldn't have even needed to move anything but his arm.
Here's my mother back from taking my sister to work, let's see what she does: quietly cleaned it up.
January 16, 2011
Tacos
So, a little look into my life and what I could eat every single day: homemade tacos. One night a few weeks ago I ate seven tacos. If you want to know what a feat that is, I weigh 128.2 lbs. When I move out, just like I did when I was in grad school, I'll most likely fall into the habit of buying taco ingredients in bulk and eating them for dinner every night. Let's break it down into how far I can take these ingredients:
5 pounds ground chuck: $8.39
colby cheese (blocks, because I FLOVE it home-shredded): 3 for $5
large bottle of Ortega taco sauce: $3.99
hard taco shells: 18 for $2.99
All-purpose seasoning (it doesn't have to be taco seasoning): $2.39
small zip-lock freezer bags: 40 for $3.29 (for the meat)
I'd probably eat between 2-4 tacos a night, so the shells will last a little less than a week. The five pounds of chuck will last for months, though, and since it can be divided up and frozen and be fine for that amount of time, it's awesome.
But initially I'm spending $26.05. Plus tax for the freezer bags. Of course I probably would take a break from the tacos and not eat them every night, but if I had to chose one meal I was forced to eat for the rest of my life, that would be it. And as you can see, I like them simple. I like sour cream and avocado and all, but not on my hard tacos.
How I can use these ingredients in my other meals: cheese can go on chili cheese home fries or in chili; the hamburger can be used for chili; I use the seasoning on my eggs for breakfast; I like taco sauce in place of ketchup for things like fried potatoes.
(Off-topic: I type two spaces after a period. I hear this is some form of blasphemy now, but I don't really give a damn. I learned to type with two spaces. I could teach myself otherwise but that's ridiculous. What is the purpose? I'm a writer who sends out my manuscripts, which will be re-typed if they are ever accepted by a publisher, so it's silly to ever worry about it. I mean, if I ever got a job where one of my main functions is to type correspondence or articles, etc. I'd have to learn the new way, but I think I'm going to cross that bridge when I get there. I only bring up this topic because I heard it drives some people nuts that there are people who aren't conforming to the new way, but I just have to ask, why do you care?)
5 pounds ground chuck: $8.39
colby cheese (blocks, because I FLOVE it home-shredded): 3 for $5
large bottle of Ortega taco sauce: $3.99
hard taco shells: 18 for $2.99
All-purpose seasoning (it doesn't have to be taco seasoning): $2.39
small zip-lock freezer bags: 40 for $3.29 (for the meat)
I'd probably eat between 2-4 tacos a night, so the shells will last a little less than a week. The five pounds of chuck will last for months, though, and since it can be divided up and frozen and be fine for that amount of time, it's awesome.
But initially I'm spending $26.05. Plus tax for the freezer bags. Of course I probably would take a break from the tacos and not eat them every night, but if I had to chose one meal I was forced to eat for the rest of my life, that would be it. And as you can see, I like them simple. I like sour cream and avocado and all, but not on my hard tacos.
How I can use these ingredients in my other meals: cheese can go on chili cheese home fries or in chili; the hamburger can be used for chili; I use the seasoning on my eggs for breakfast; I like taco sauce in place of ketchup for things like fried potatoes.
(Off-topic: I type two spaces after a period. I hear this is some form of blasphemy now, but I don't really give a damn. I learned to type with two spaces. I could teach myself otherwise but that's ridiculous. What is the purpose? I'm a writer who sends out my manuscripts, which will be re-typed if they are ever accepted by a publisher, so it's silly to ever worry about it. I mean, if I ever got a job where one of my main functions is to type correspondence or articles, etc. I'd have to learn the new way, but I think I'm going to cross that bridge when I get there. I only bring up this topic because I heard it drives some people nuts that there are people who aren't conforming to the new way, but I just have to ask, why do you care?)
January 15, 2011
In the Way
No one else in this house has to go to work on Saturdays except for me. I don't understand why it seems that whenever I have to be there at 9:30 a.m. all these people who normally sleep until noon get up and get in my way, and then say asshole things to me when I say, "Can you wait about a half an hour to do that? I'll be gone for work then and it will be easier for everyone."
Oh, lord, how offensive and selfish of me. This morning I slept in a little figuring I had plenty of time to eat, shower, and get to work. My father sat in his little den-room playing on his computer until the moment I went downstairs. I had to try to maneuver around him as he microwaved last night's chicken wings and got ice. Eventually he saw I was standing waiting for him to move out of the way of the fridge and he said, "Am I in your way?" I said, "I don't really have much time," to which he replied, "Well then next time set your alarm earlier and you won't have that problem."
You know what? Fuck that. There was no reason he couldn't have waited until I was done making breakast to make his chicken wings. If I had taken a shower first and eaten breakast second, how much do you want to bet he would have waited until then to make those wings? It took me twice as long to make breakfast because I had to wait for him to be out of the way and then afterward I was frustrated and kept messing up.
My father does everything for me and I know he feels hurt when we have arguments. But he isn't always right. I know he cried when my mother told him I was going to move out this year. I know I'm his only true child. But I also need space. I need to not have to negotiate how I walk around this house every time I walk around this house.
Oh, lord, how offensive and selfish of me. This morning I slept in a little figuring I had plenty of time to eat, shower, and get to work. My father sat in his little den-room playing on his computer until the moment I went downstairs. I had to try to maneuver around him as he microwaved last night's chicken wings and got ice. Eventually he saw I was standing waiting for him to move out of the way of the fridge and he said, "Am I in your way?" I said, "I don't really have much time," to which he replied, "Well then next time set your alarm earlier and you won't have that problem."
You know what? Fuck that. There was no reason he couldn't have waited until I was done making breakast to make his chicken wings. If I had taken a shower first and eaten breakast second, how much do you want to bet he would have waited until then to make those wings? It took me twice as long to make breakfast because I had to wait for him to be out of the way and then afterward I was frustrated and kept messing up.
My father does everything for me and I know he feels hurt when we have arguments. But he isn't always right. I know he cried when my mother told him I was going to move out this year. I know I'm his only true child. But I also need space. I need to not have to negotiate how I walk around this house every time I walk around this house.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
