welcome... would you like a sticker?

Dear Retail Slave,

I know you love your job. Really, I do.

You see; I have been on your side of the counter. I know how it feels to hit that alarm clock 8,675,309 times in the morning before you finally decide to drag your ass out of that warm, comfortable bed you nestled yourself into the night before. I get that.

I know how much you love to stand there all day and listen to people tell you about their problems all within the short amount of time it takes for you to scan their purchases and take their money.

I know that your boss is a bitch, asshole or whatever other name you have come up with for him/her. Really, I get that. I'm pretty good at coming up with names for people myself when my cage has been rattled enough.

I'm aware that the co-worker three registers down from you is fucking the manager and you're pissed, because last week he told you he was divorcing his wife. Oh, let's not forget... your co-worker is not his wife.

I know your break was supposed to be half an hour ago. Your eyes are yellow.

Oh, it's your day off and you're working? It is 2009, screen your calls and stop bitching!

I know your back, legs and feet hurt.
Yes, those mats you stand on "for support" are a joke. I stood on those bastards the entire 11 months of my pregnancy. Those mats could not support me or the extra 85 pounds my body decided to consume. At the end of the day my legs were like small tree trunks; it was mortifying.

Those lights? Well slave, you're there to work and not worry about picking up a future love interest.

That muzak is enough to drive anybody crazy. We all know this. But it does make people spend money.

I also know that standing there all day having customer after customer come AT you can be overwhelming. I mean we're talking sensory overload here. I get that.

I know that, sometimes, falling asleep at night the only thing you hear is... beep...beep...blip...blip...beeeep.
You see numbers, customers and money.
All. Fuckin'. Night.

It is especially a bitch to handle more money in a day than you'll make all month.


But... you need to know this:

You need to not be a bitch.


And here is why....

I go into your retail hell with my list
I put my items from said list into the annoying squeaky cart
I then put said items onto your magic belt
You have to stand there... make your register go beep and blip.
I'm not going to bitch about my personal life because I have a shrink for that. (thanks though)
I give you my money, (swipe my own card so I don't give you anything) and go home with my new item(s)

...but the end result no matter what

my money = your paycheck

So... play nice or I'm asking for a comment card.

Apartment Living Wednesday

The move has been made. I went from the cute little house with lots of privacy to this cute little apartment condo looking thing with null privacy.

February 13th the adventure started. The adventures in Apartment Living.

I am not used to apartment living. At all. Call me spoiled, call it whatever. I've just been lucky to find house rentals for many years.

So on Wednesdays I'm going to chronicle some of these adventures because you just can't make this shit up. What's mine is yours right?

Welcome to Apartment Living Wednesday!

Let me give you some background info on my little neighborhood. There are five buildings and a total of 24 apartments. The buildings are set apart from each other in a decent distance. Each apartment, except the four handicap accessible, are two levels. The entrance and exit is in the middle of "The Compound".
You've all seen these; welfare apartments, ghetto living, whatever. Don't judge.
We have a dumpster in the middle of The Compound. Quite convenient!
There is also a building that contains our mailboxes and laundry facilities, also near the middle of The Compound. (Oh washer and dryer how I miss you!) Each apartment has an assigned number parking space, which is typically in front of our apartment; one building isn't so lucky. We have doorbells. Some apartments have a shared entrance with a neighbor, others do not. I'm one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to share.
I live towards the middle of The Compound, directly after the entrance, my living room windows (3 bigguns) face the dumpster, mail room/laundry building and driveway. I see it all. I get to be nosey.

So....

February 13th: I get the keys to our new little home. That night after Boy Child goes with The Mailman I start bringing boxes over. A short, skinny woman with a frizzy over permed mullet comes over and starts a conversation.

Now I'm all about meeting my neighbors, I lived at the house 6 years and only knew three neighbors by name. This could be a nice change.

Her: "You moving in?"
Me: "Yes" *although I wanted to say "No, I'm just moving boxes for my fuckin' health"
Her: "Oh, well Hi. I'm ... That's my cat. Do you like cats?"
Me: Looking at her like she has 5 noses. "I'm Jenn. Oh, that's fine."
Her: "Well, don't let him in your house, he'll never leave."
Me: "Oh, don't you worry!" (background: we just brought our 2 cats to the shelter; I'm all set with this for a while.)
Her: She stops talking, puts her hand over her mouth. "Ohhh, I'm so sorry, I have to apologize, I don't have my teeth in."

I had to walk away.

I have seen her three times since then and she still doesn't have her teeth in.

sometimes you can't fix it

Tuesday. Never saw him.
Wednesday. Never saw him.
Thursday. Never saw him.
Friday. Never saw him.
Saturday. Never saw him.

Over a week. Damn close to 2 weeks actually.

Friday I was officially moved into the new place and instead of him helping, my rockin' kick ass friends helped. Ya gotta have friends!

He would occasionally send a text message over those two weeks. Sometimes he sent me a message online but I don't really call that "communicating". Not anymore.
He offered to help with the move. He should have just been there. Maybe I expect too much but this has been talked about since December. Absolutely foolish.
Where I lived before and now, he has to drive by to get to and from work. Drop by, say hello. I mean fuck, I am your girlfriend right?

I've exhausted my efforts. He's done this before and I'm always the one knocking down his door (literally and figuratively) getting him to talk, communicate... something. I fight to get us together and/or keep us together. This time-- no. If he wants this... us; he'll do it. I am done.

Friday night he sent a text that proved he was home alone... drinking. I ignored it.

Saturday night I sent a text, because this seems to be the best way to communicate with him, and told him I was home unpacking and a few other words. His basic response... "in for the night".

Just fine and dandy! He randomly continued to text, did the yahoo chat then he vanished! *POOF*
Little while later he sends another text mentioning that he's at some "bar" and it is boring.

I felt like I was just kicked in the gut. He couldn't spend time with me. Ya know... his girlfriend. His whole "in for the night" was a huge crock of shit!

So... I slept on it and then Sunday I went over. I have had enough. I didn't walk into that house I used to feel so comfortable in; I knocked. I made him get off his ass and answer the door.
Standing in front of this man I no longer knew, I handed him a key; the key to this unfamiliar house.

"What's this for?"

"I don't need it anymore."

Then we went around and around in circles. He telling me everything I do wrong, along with the things about him that irritate me. (Alright, so I have pet peeves. Who doesn't) Me making him aware that he lied.
It was like a race track....round and round.

After close to an hour of this he asks "what are you doing here if you can't stand me?"

From there, this insane and uncontrollable feeling overcame me. I don't even know where the words came from but they were there. I reminded him of all the little things he told me I "never do" and how I can't stand him, sarcastically and in a very bitchy tone of course.

Me:
*Right... so all the weekends I could have stayed home, instead I was here, because I can't stand you.
*Instead of my child sleeping in his bed during the school week we stayed here, because I can't stand you.
*I was so excited to move so you could come to my house, because I can't stand you.
*I shampooed my couches so you could sit on them and not worry about pet dander, because I can't stand you.
*I made sure I used allergy cleaner over regular cleaner, because I can't stand you.
*My cats are gone, because I can't stand you.

I know I rattled off several more but because I was so involved in the moment, it all just happened.

I grabbed a few things I had there and walked out of this strange house, away from this strange man and never looked back. I have no idea if he was still sitting in that same chair I was standing over that entire hour, or if he got up to watch me. I now know that I can't fix something that was broken from the very beginning. Something that he broke more than a year ago.

That Girl

I have never wanted to be that girl.

That girl. You know the one. The girl who excessively complains about her boyfriend. There is always something going on between him and her.

He didn't.
I didn't.
He doesn't.
I don't.
He wants.
I want.
He needs.
I need.

Dammit!

We're not jiving anymore. Something just isn't right. This is our 8675309 (Ok, our 3rd but it's all the same after 1) attempt to make it work and well, it doesn't seem to be going so well.
Seem? Wait, that is an understatement. It just isn't going.

I picked up the keys to my new place on Friday and started moving in. Never saw him.
Valentine's Day was Saturday. Never saw him.
Sunday. Never saw him.
Monday. Never saw him.
Now here it is Tuesday and I think I forgot what he looks like.

I'm damn thankful BG E was around to help with the move. He did so much and then some. I'd still be moving boxes 2 at a time in my car, with the seats that don't fold down!


I've always heard female friends moan and bitch about their "men" and it gets tiring. Exhausting. If you are bitching that much you are obviously not happy and blah blah.... Cut the cord. End it.

It is so much easier to say than to do. So much.

Of course, this is only the surface of the relationship, there is always more to the story. Always.

But I will say this much: I'm getting damn tired of hearing myself bitch.


I am not that girl.

Last Year

*may contain graphic material*

This is what they really mean when they say... "hook me up"

In nursing school they don't teach you how to take a proper temperature anymore

...because who doesn't love a friggin' sticker on their forehead?

YES! This is the body part you're about to operate on,

and no you cannot take out my uterus.

This is how you define sexy.

...and I'm off to get the best drugs. Na Night!

A few days later...

Plastic wrap and tape= my best friend
Hey! A girl still has to shower
(oh lookie! you can see my tattoo!)


"X" marks the spot...


Looks like someone took a bat to my knee (felt like it too)
The swelling didn't go down for months


Up close and personal

I never claimed to have sexy legs

So that was my journey one year ago. Phew, I am so glad it is over!

My knee used to click and grind when I did any sort of movement. It was so bad people at a distance could hear it. Recovery for a "simple" surgery was supposed to be easy, mine was anything but.

"Physical therapy is not needed for this type of surgery" my doctor told me. I was in therapy twice a week for about 4 months.

My knee still isn't right and probably never will be. I'm too damn young to feel this damn old.

I was asked when I'm going to do the other knee because it does the same thing.

My answer... How about never?

Baby it's cold outside

It's official; I really do live in the artic freakin' tundra!

[courtesy of Jenn(ifer)]

I'm late on the announcement of this record breaking information but yesterday's event made me think of it; other than that I probably wouldn't have mentioned it.

Maine reached a record temperature of 50 below on February 3rd. That's 50 degrees below ZERO! I don't give a shit who you are, or where you live, that is cold! This fantastic event was talked about all over the world. Google it!

Even Forbe's says: A Maine event of 50 below excites scientists.

Personally, February 3rd, 2008 really was not a day of excitement. I don't know what the exact temperature was in my little town, but anything below zero is still below zero.

Yesterday I couldn't decide if I should wear my heavy ski jacket, my simple fleece or my pea coat because it was one of those sunny warm winter days. The weather here is just funny like that. I sported the pea coat and was a little too warm.

I pick Boy Child up after school then we go out to shop for some more things in preparations for our move and everyday life.

Now what I'm about to say completely struck me as funny because I never realized how bizarre it sounded. Don't deny the fact you've never said this because I know better! I've heard you! Really.

So... as I'm pulling in to the parking lot of big box store, I become completely blinded by the sun; leaving me no choice but to yank my visor down so I don't smash into someone and then the words:

"Shit, the sun's bright!" (I just lost Mother of the Year award)

come out of my mouth.

Well no shit Sherlock! What else is it supposed to be?

Yes, I'm completely aware there are times when Mr. Cloud and his brothers decide to cover up the sun or some other crazy event prevents the sun's brightness but seriously...

Today the sun may not be out in his glory here, but at least he's bright somewhere else!

Stupid Cupid

7 days away. Face it; it's coming whether we want it or not.

As a little girl I always loved Valentine's Day because my parents would make it special for me. I'd always get treats, flowers, and lots of extras.

Who needs a boyfriend when ya got Dear Ol' Dad?

The dreaded High School years hit and well, Valentine's Day wasn't all that bad either. If I remember correctly I had a boyfriend every year. He may not have always been "Stud of the Year" but he was my "Not Stud of the Year" and I liked him, so I always received something sweet. I mean it was High School after all, and back then a package of bubble gum for this brace face was fuckin' sweet!

Well now that I'm a grown up (or so I'm being told I am) Valentine's Day isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I do the same thing Dear Ol' Dad did for me for my Boy Child. He gets a rockin' red bag full of goodies, a card and sometimes a movie or something uber special. Hate to toot my own horn here, but I'm a fuckin' kick ass Mom! Just ask around. Seriously.
The relationship with The Mailman sucked, he was not romantic at all. I had to kick, scream and break things to get his attention and that still didn't work. Lost cause there.
A guy or two following (I don't remember) did a few sweet things but it's become such a forced holiday, how could you forget?

Now here's the problem... other than last years gift from Jex being the DAY after Valentine's and that consisted of half price chocolates (Yes! I'm serious!) and a frame with our picture in it (Yes! for real!) he is a super awesome gift giving person. He truly puts a lot of thought into his gifts. Like last Christmas I got the iPod I was salivating for and this Christmas... Sugarland concert tickets. That gift made me cry and the only thing I got him was a damn weather station. Didn't I look like a big asshole!

So last night he's showing me something on his laptop but then this follows..
Jex: "Oh don't look!"
Me: "Huh?" (Obviously very confused)
Jex: "Oh, there's an email I don't want you to see."
Me: "I never friggin' look at your email."
Jex: "Well it's your Valentine's gift."
Me: "Well, what the fuck! All you had to say was just don't look or nothing at all, didn't have to say anything about Valentine's Day! Keep shoveling yourself into that hole!" (shoveling motion)

I haven't even thought about getting him anything for Valentine's Day!!! I know if he ordered something online and received a confirmation email he has put a lot of freakin' thought and effort into this! I'm doomed!
I get Boy Child gifts, not the men. I haven't a clue where to even begin and I certainly do not want this to be a "its 68 degrees inside, outdoor temperature of 10 degrees with a real feel of 15 below zero" mistake.

Somebody help a girl out!

my cart is empty

industriarts

This morning I woke up and thought today would be a damn good day to go couch shopping!
Not because I need a couch, but because I want a new one. It doesn't matter that I already have 2 high functioning pieces where my guests can plop their happy asses down. There really isn't a damn thing wrong with my snazzy jazzy blue sofa and matching love seat. Well other than the cat hair and dander that remains from the kitties that are sadly missing from our lives now.

You see, a majority of my friends are allergic to cats along with Jex. Poor guy can't last longer than 15 minutes in my house; sometimes more if I'm lucky, but it's unlikely. So now that the cats are not leaving behind more hair and dander, I can do the whole vacuum and shampoo the couches to help minimize the effect but that is never guaranteed to work. I'd like to be able to have company in our new home; especially Jex. Goodness.

So my bright idea is get rid of the couches and start new! Find an inexpensive (cheap) couch and be happy! Pass on my couches to someone who (really) needs them... or something.

...and here we go! I drag Jex along with me to be that nagging voice or not so much the actual voice but the look. The look he gives me when I'm being completely impulsive and therefore I feel totally guilty and walk away like a little kid who was caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

First stop and I find the couch! The one I want! I sit in it, rub it, drool over the price, touch it some more and then he kindly reminds me that it is exactly like the couches I currently have. I remind him this one doesn't have cat hair. Before I know it, we're off to the next place... without a couch, and I'm pouting. Fuckin' cookie jars!

This new destination has a crazy amount of furniture and an obnoxious salesman. If there is one thing I do not like, it's pushy (sales)people. Introduce yourself to me, let me know you're available and then leave me the fuck heck alone! End of freakin' discussion.

Now not only was this dude pushy, he also had a serious problem talking to me. He had no problem talking to Jex, letting him know what their deals were and what was happening in their store. This guy would rarely look at me.
This pisses me off! A lot. Should this have been our money, I would have wanted him to talk to us. Ya know... 'cause that's how it's supposed to work.
You.. Me.. Us.

Today I was shopping and this was MY money. Apparently me answering his questions and Jex walking away from him just wasn't enough of a clue for him; he continued to try and converse with Jex.

Even if I had found my dream couch and had an unlimited amount of cash, there was no way in hell I would have bought any furniture from a guy who obviously had an issue with a woman who had control over a situation; especially concerning money furniture.

I wonder what would have happened if today's shopping trip included a new bed.

*I finished today's shopping trip with.... no couch.