Let's just re-cap

Sat: my blackberry keypad stopped working, so if I charged it I could see that I had messages etc, but could not get to anything because my phone was stuck locked.

Sun: I was working a split for the holiday meeting and I was trying to do my job which currently is operations, and the asm's just because he's fucking stupid. and I was trying to get a F/o in the wall but I could barely reach, so the face out fell, and i was standing in the bootset next to the denim wall, and so I used my cat like reflexes to move my head out of the way. Which turned out to be into the denim shelves, which wasn't far enough away from the faceout anyways. So I bashed both sides of my head. Then I said split right.. So on the way back to work for the meeting, I slammed on the brakes when I should have just gone through the yellow light, spilling my large ice coffee all over the radio in my car. The radio was not happy with the face that I let ice get in the tape deck, so the tape deck just kept playing and playing and playing, even when I turned off the car. There was no tape in it mind you because I wouldn't even know where to get one if I tried. So then I was like shit what am I going to do because if the car battery dies I don't even have a phone to call AAA. So I just tore apart the dashboard. Well first I kicked the radio with my boots, and that didn't make it happier I promise. So now I get to drive around, and already ridiculous 1987 560sel Mercedes with purple tinted windows (look it up you'll cry with laughter), but I have no radio, no phone, a headache from hell and my dashboard (well to be fair I guess it's the center council) is pulled apart. I should just drive around singing," Rollin' down the street smokin' endo sippin' on gin n juice"

Tuesday: I woke up with a MONSTER fucking headache. Went to call off only to find that they'd given the ASM his last day off, so there was going to be none of that calling off. So I go to work to find that our DM is coming tomorrow. Then she starts asking me questions about how I've been helping with merchandising etc. Because I've pretty much been doing both jobs. And the idea is that I will be the ASM not but no one never really knows. SO I work through my headache but kind of want to die.

Wed: Go to work, turns out the DM is not coming, right after I find that out we loose power because the HIP is a big fat piece of dog poop, and we always loose power, So we only loose partial power we think we're ok, then H calls me to the back, and was like it smells like smoke, then I get T and by the time she gets back there smoke is pouring out of the air ducts. So I'm like call 911, and evacuate the building. But people are seriously stupid, and even though I tell them there is a fire in the back room they don't want to leave. One lady kept arguing can't I just pay for my stuff I'm almost done. I actually had to yell at her to get her to leave. I mean for real what part of fire do you not understand. So basically there was a fire or something in the HVAC unit, which is now pretty well fried.

So after about an hour we go back inside, and our controller is partially fucked up. Not enough for the registers not to work, but enought that I had to call after we closed and spend 45 min trying to fix it..

And so that bring us today. I'm not going to lie I'm a little afraid to leave the house...

Dialog

Me: uhhh they only charged us for our food, none of our beers are on here.
C: really well she did mess up your food.
Me: I know but she didn't charge us for 8 beers that's crazy
Then we leave the bar
ME: I really don't want this leftover cheeseburger
O: I'll eat it.
B: yeah she just doesn't want to hold the box.
Me: yeah UMM really don't
O: Do you not like leftovers.
Me: no not really but mostly don't want to hold the stupid box.
Walking walking walking
SMACK
ME: AAAHHH
C: sorry but your ass was just there.
ME: yeah that will happen
C: it was just in front of me waiting to be smacked.
ME (in my head): yeah that will happen
ME: ah not the first time
B: yeah everyone wants to do that.. Probably not even the first time it's been smacked in public.
ME: umm nope. not even close.
O (in his head): why does everything always come back to bran's ass...
ME (in my head): yeah sorry O it just is.

9/11

What's your 9/11 memory. I remember growing up in a world without war. The children of my generation where allow a peaceful life. Sure we saw then ends of the cold war, we watched on tv as the wall came down, but were too young to understand it. We didn't have to live through Vietnam like our parents or world wars like our grandparents. We've seen bomb shelters, but didn't understand them. We grew up before the internet, and world connections. We were suppose to be the generation with no war. We felt safe, very little to protest. Being a yippee was more about music and smoking pot than having a way of life to protest against. Then the impossible happened, we were attacked on our own soil. Our way of life changed, and that of our children. 9/11 happen. I remember my boyfriend at the time driving me to school and hearing the new on the radio. It was confused and I didn't understand what was going on. The news on the radio was not something I'd grown up equipped to understand. My initial understand was that we were under attack and a plane landed at the pentagon. I couldn't understand in all my 21 years, what was going on. To me it seemed like the impossible happened. I didn't understand at all that planes had been hijacked and flown into the world trade center. I went to class being scared and confused. Until sitting in my economic anthropology class, and later my philosophy where I finally figured out what happened. Or as much of what happened as I'll ever understand. Then they closed the University of Minnesota, and I remember wandering around campus not really sure what to do next. This world I lived in seemed to come crashing down around me. I went to work next because it wasn't far from where I lived, and the just watched everything unfold on tv over and over again. Now the generation that gre w up with out any understand of war, besides what we learned in school, had come smack in the face with a global reality. It wasn't the case that there were no wars being fought while we grew up, just that we never were forced to be a part of it. Here we were in our mid and early 20ies forced to deal with the idea that there were people out there who hated us, solely based on where/how we grew up.

Such a shocking transition to the lives we look back on in our 30ies where friends and family have fought and died for our safety. That fateful day ten years ago still seems much like a bad dream. All the details come back like flashbacks in a movie, every moment playing in slow motion. Our world was forever changed that day, and that of our children. Our children don't get to grow up in a world with out war. They have to be strong enough to watch their mothers and fathers fight for them. I don't really know which is a better world thinking back, I do know that I'm eternally both grateful and proud of all those who fought to try and make this world a safer place. In this ten year anniversary of 9/11. To remember all that was lost, and to say thank you for the strength and courage of the american military. Ten years ago tomorrow I learn what it really meant to say, All gave some and some gave all. For that I thank you.....

The bitch is back

I'm not going to lie the title really has nothing to do with the following post. I feel like I should contextualize that on the off chance that anyone actually reads this which I'm sure will not be the case. I do have some quite bitchy things to say but if you don't like it I suggest you stop here because as we well know once we get started its kind of hard to stop So here we go, don't say I didn't warn you...

What I'm really feeling five days a week, is that I totally might kill someone. Not in my normal I always kind of want to kill someone way, but in I actually physically might kill someone. The reason for this is that I've recently moved to a store out west, and driving through the northwest side is pretty much enough to make an sane person crazy, and I've never professed myself to be said sane person. First this street I drive down seems to me to be the only street in the city with a posted speed limit. It's not that I'm inherently against speed limits, but I'm inherently against speed limits that only exist to make me crazier than I already am. I mean solely that when you go the posted speed limit you are guarantied to hit every red light no matter what time of day.

My problem is that 95% of the people on said street seem determined to go the speed limit or below, and block anyone from moving around them. I've come to the determination that they do this because they must be afraid of getting deported back to their country of origin.

Now this might sound a bit racist, but I assure you that the people I'm speaking of are likely from eastern Europe,and not south of the border as you might have suspected.

As I try to move around set vehicles I find my problem compounded by the guy selling roses at all hours of the day by the highway. Not really sure how this is a wise way to spend ones time, because who really buys roses from some guy selling them in the street, but he must make some sort of living this way because he is there every freaking day. Also there is about 5 regular homeless people with their plastic cups begging for change at one of the 900 street lights I'm forced to stop at on my trek to work. One of which I almost ran over in frustration to get around a line of aforementioned slow future deportees.

Then there is the endless construction signs when mention lane closures where there are none, no signs where there is, and then just random portions of the pavement missing is large blocks for no reason. All of which make for a very stressful drive to and from work. Forcing me to grid the hell out of my teeth.

The bigger problem is I'm not entirely sure the brakes in the front half of my car work. A fact which I've yet to mention to my dad for fear that he might actually murder me for driving with them, and for asking him to fix them (I kid my parents are both awesome). This however means that when I try really hard to move around stupid ass people I'm not entirely sure my car will stop at will. Maybe it will stop at it's own will, but not mine, and lets none even bring up the idea of stopping on a dime.

Bottom line is the drive too and from work has become nothing less then an adventure, one I'm not in love with, and really want no part of. So if I'm calling you at all hours of the night looking for bail money for having run someone over, worry not, just call some folks and get the money together.

I have glass in my foot.

Here's how it all happened.
I have glass in my foot because I knocked over the wine glass my sister gave me for Christmas with my ass. Funny yes but not the whole story. I have glass in my foot, because I couldn't clean up said glass, because my dust pan is in my car. In my car you ask, yes that is correct.
The dust pan is in the car because it snow 5 inches the other day, and I lost my snow scraper you ask not to worry we will get to that part later on. It is time for a tangent.
Because it was snowing the other day, and I remember I had no snow scraper, and also remembered my boots where in the car, I grabbed the dust pan, and small broom, but forgot my gym shoes. I did bring a pair of gym shoes they just didn't have anything inside them because I took them out and put them in my new gym shoes. So I had to come home so I could get the right shoes. My feet hurt. And on the way back to work my car died, on the side of Ashland. Which won't make sense to most of you. Well that is if there is any of you still reading now.
While I was trying to get my car to start again, and people were honking at me, a nice Hispanic came outside from the store front he was working in and asked if I needed help. Not sure why because he knew even less about cars than me.
He did however offer to have his cousin tow my car somewhere for free, while he was hitting on me, not helping me get my car started. My car finally started after about a half hour, and I drove it to a shop. Where I left it for a day, and they couldn't figure out what was wrong with it.
Now I still have glass in my foot, and I'm late for work, maybe my car will start and maybe it won't. But there is always more, so stayed tuned for the continuation of what happens next. Or well previously that caused the glass to jump into my foot.