Cathartic

I recently engaged in a conversation with the local Fed Ex guy that made me feel somehow finally understood. Has there ever been a more absurd sentence? But years of slowly opening up to close friends has never had quite the impact this brief conversation did.

I forget exactly how it started, but something about working all the time and how he had been working and paying rent since he was 16 because his step dad made him pay rent to live in the garage.

To which I responded, "I thought I had a shitty step-dad."

Which of course spawned further dialogue about our respective shitty drug addict step dads. Which to me is sort of a revelation. I mean, I obviously know others exist, I've just never had a conversation with anyone who has also experienced this. My close friends who have step dads mostly feel as if they got an upgrade. This frank discussion about being yelled at for no reason, wondering which version of him will walk through the door each day...I almost wanted to cry with relief that I was not alone.

Because if you haven't been through it, you can still understand it. But you can't really understand the impact it has on your psyche. You can't actually feel it. The underlying dread of each day. What nonexistent facial expression will I be punished for today? What tiny chore left undone will be treated like the end of the world? What terrible things will he say today, and will they make me cry? That constant apprehension.

I have a friend who experienced emotional abuse during her marriage. She sort of understands. She felt and withstood the insidious nature of it from 17 to 27. Terrible as that is, and terrible as I am to distinguish, I'm still going to say that it is vastly different when it occurs to an adult rather than a child. I was a child, literally molded by this man I had not chosen in any way to have around me.

I wonder if there are support groups for the children of addicts? Probably, there should be anyway based on how cathartic it was for me to have one small conversation about a shared hell.

Heroes

A hero can be defined as someone whose strength, brave acts, or fine qualities you admire. Heroes have long been prevalent in our society. Lately "super" heroes have become super popular. To me, the concept has been someone you look up to and wish to be more like.

As a child, I remember being asked in school quite often who my heroes were. Like it was a normal thing to have and share. Other children would reference their parents, grandparents, coaches, or teachers. They would even let you include singers or athletes you admired. My family was never typically heroic. I had no coaches, and liked none of my teachers all that much. I hated sports, and even singers to me have always just been the conduit of what I love. I never knew what to say.

As an adult, I am still searching. Though it would be apt and honorable to list some human rights activist as a hero, it would also be dishonest. I'm not even pretending to strive to be that great. But I have found that I did have childhood heroes - they were just mostly fictional. And largely female.

Laugh if you will, but Buffy and Xena are the feminist icons that taught me a girl could be physically and emotionally strong despite adversity. Because of adversity. No knight in shining armor needed. This is heroic to me because growing up as a born again Baptist, this isn't the lesson you are taught. No females in my life stood up to men (or vampires) as an equal. Women weren't allowed to be leaders above men, or to strive for a life without men or children. Female heroines of Christian culture always fell short for me because they were valued for their meek and servile qualities. Bleh.

So, Joss Whedon is also sort of a hero to me because he created Buffy, and Robert Tapert for Xena.

As a teenager, I began to value the works of poets like Dorothy Parker, whose blunt and morbid prose got me through high school. Silvia Plath was by far the greatest strength to me when I was in my massive depressive slump in college, despite her own eventual self destruction. In many ways they are the foundation for the poetry I write today. Recently I have discovered Rupi Kaur and her work The Sun and Her Flowers, which has been a revelation. I don't know if this makes them heroes, but it does make them admirable and brave to me.

In terms of expression through art, Frida Kahlo is my biggest hero. She lived a life of pain and turned it into beauty. She had such a vibrant self-awareness that she portrayed through her surreal and sometimes visceral artwork. How could that not be heroic?

The past few years I have been searching for inspiration as a boss. Been living that Manager life, which is terrible and exhausting, but also necessary to my journey. But balancing professionalism with authenticity is sort of strange and hard. Sophia Amoruso of Nasty Gal has become a hero to me with her ballsy entrepreneurial spirit. I'm not sure I ever want to start my own business, but if I did, she has shown me that it's possible to remain your cool, weird self while doing so. And even that it's okay to fail sometimes, so long as you pick yourself up eventually. #GirlBoss Other women like Tina Fey and Mindy Kaling have also inspired me in this way.

Musically, some fantastic women like Joan Jett, Kathleen Hanna, and Brody Dalle, taught me it was awesome to be loud and crass and, well, "unladylike".  David Bowie of course (not a woman) is an inspiration in his no fucks given long career (R.I.P) creating convention by defying it. That's all I want to do.

Finally, yes, someone in my family has become heroic to me. My Grandfather. First generation Mexican/American. Joined the Army and jumped out of airplanes. He was injured and discharged with a purple heart. Became a History, Spanish, and Math teacher, then eventually the Principal.  Aside from all that, I've always known him to be heroic in everyday ways. Like how he takes care of the many many animals my Grandmother insists on acquiring, even though he has no real fondness for them. His love for her and his family is the most heroic thing to me.

Sorry this post has been so unforgivably long. But if you made it this far, your prize is...NOTHING! Congrats.

New Job, Who Dis?

First official day of training.

So far, I have made a window display, and cleaned out a storage room. The previous management left me with a billion different holiday decorations - all in a million different tubs, crates, and boxes. Some not even in boxes. So I spent most of my day today just wrestling through the mess and organizing it. The mind boggles at such disarray. But there is something supremely satisfying in taking such a mess and making it neat and orderly. Or is that just me?

Tomorrow I get to tackle the storage room with all the backstock. I'm sure I will have just as much fun with that. Don't worry, after that there is the whole rest of the store to organize because dear satan, the previous manager really did not care to put anything in an obvious place. I'm going a little insane already.

The training so far has been limited to some register functions and item pricing. So, all my fears about my capabilities seem to have been unfounded. What a relief! And the hours (9am-5:30pm) are so nice! Tomorrow I will be working at the gas station 6-11pm, so I'm not really looking forward to that...but I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm just trying my best now to stay awake til 11pm. Not really sure what to do with myself during all this normal people time. Maybe clean my house?

Nah.

Good Times, For A Change

*See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.*

Well, BOOYA! Life finally gave me a win. I mean, like exactly one. After some extensively bad interviews, this other place finally decided to hire me as their Store Manager! I'm super excited. I'll be working a 9am-5pm job! The only downside is the 90 day trial period, which I hopefully will not bomb. I want those health benefits, damnit!

After 6 months of job hunting, I'm honestly going to try my best at this job. It really seems like it might be a good fit. Diablo help me, after 8 years at my other job, I'm ready for a change. Now, I have heard some pretty terrible things about the management, but I've also heard some good things. I'm just hoping I can make these people love me too much to be terrible to me. I know, I know, optimism feels as weird on me as it looks. Shut up. I officially start training this coming Monday.

In other news, my leaving the gas station seems to have finally spurred the Supervisor into actually hiring some people. Fucker. I will still be working a couple nights a week, probably for the next 90 days, just as a safety net. Because I'm all about the safety net after my last experience trying to get a better job. That experience, and the 6 months of being rejected by prospective employers, basically destroyed me. I don't think the people in my life can understand just how demoralizing that was to me.

So wish me luck! Or sacrifice some virgins for my success, whatever!

Update 2017

So here's an update on my life that nobody asked for.

First of all, my work situation. Back in November of 2014 I became the GM of the shitty gas station I've been working at forever. Then in February of this year I stepped down and became a normal associate again because I was hired to be a secretary at this construction company. Only, the position was only open because they were promoting the current secretary (my friend Cathy) to Sales. And then they never promoted her because they are fucking sexist, which left me just screwed. So I've been job hunting since then, to no luck.

So back at the shitty gas station, my Assistant Manager was gunning for the GM position. I was pretty cool with this because she's one of the only ones there who knew how to do anything. But our Supervisor in all his wisdom decided to never promote her. Then a few weeks ago she and her husband get into some shit and now she's talking about moving to Ankeny.

So once again I'm being left at this shithole. But my Super has another think coming if he thinks I'm going to live in the mess he made by basically never hiring anyone and never making Amy the GM. I'm not running the damn place again. I'm already working there far more than I wanted to when I said I'd work some shifts. I'm only working this much because the jackasses I hired decided to quit when Amy wasn't the push-over I was.

Recently I haven't been feeling well, on top of working 5-6 nights a week, and that's not leaving me a great deal of time to job search (even if there was anything good out there). So with all of this, I think I've decided to tell my Supervisor that I'm not bending over backwards for that place anymore. It's just hard, because I've never been that person. I'm always the person who works for everyone else, never calls in, gets all my work done. It's strange for me to put myself first in a work context.

If only I could find a better job. Blerg.

Aside from that, there isn't much news in my life. Same friends. Same no boys. Well, some supremely awkward/disappointing run ins with random boys. But that's nothing new or different, really. Oh, I got a new car cuz my other one fell apart! Is that new? I dunno.

Whatever.

February Sucks

I've had a fucked up month. Actually it started right after I made that post about dominating January. Which effectively cured me of any small amount of optimism I might have acquired. So, yeah, around a week after that post I got a horrendous stomach flu. Then (it feels like) everyone quit (at work). So we have technically only 3 new people, but actually we have 4 because the other one rarely works and doesn't seem to recall what it is he's supposed to do when he's there. That is called "benefit of the doubt" because he probably just doesn't give a fuck. I mean, hey, I wouldn't either if I were you, Guy, but I hate you anyway.

And everyone else was new and terrible at things for a while. And then the books were terrible. And there's the part where I'm Jodi's bitch and am supposed to tell everyone when they're terrible. Which I actually don't mind that much because...I'm a bitch. But it does get repetitive and tiring. The main 2-11 person we hired is now pregnant (maybe with twins) and getting sick and going home more often than she works. And I'm just constantly coming in to a fresher hell than the last.

On a more personal note, Mediacom is charging me $70 a month for internet now and I really need to switch providers, but I've never done that before and the unknown is daunting to me. Also, I need a new cellphone because mine is glitching like a motherfucker but what phone to buy??? And then there's the car issue, which is still basically strutless and stupid and now refuses to start, but I'm having an even harder time finding a replacement car because I live in Iowa and all the damn used cars have crazy fucking miles on them. And I know nothing about cars. The other thing is I still don't have healthcare because I'm in sticker shock over what it costs and I don't know what any of the terms mean. So basically I'm just tired of shopping for boring shit that isn't shoes, and trying to make smart decisions. I'm not a decision maker. Apparently I'm also just not very good at being an adult.

I just want to read books, watch Netflix and paint some pictures. Why does life want to keep me away from these things?

So today, I've just been fucking off reading Cracked, and obsessing over female boxing. Because when I get stressed out, I shut down and give no fucks. Let Future Hannah deal with this shit. Sure sucks to be her.

January Is My Bitch!

Okay, so a lot has happened this month...sort of.

First off, I am now a Sales Manager, which isn't especially exciting, but there is a pay raise. Also I'm Jodi's bitch. Which, honestly, isn't much different than it's ever been. I don't understand why Amie (the previous SM) was so stressed out all the time. Possibly she just has poor stress management skills. Possibly she just can't chillax about anything. Fuck her, I'm awesome.

This is me, 2nd in Command!
(I've been waiting far too long to make that joke)

Secondly (I have no friends), I almost feel like a complete/law-abiding adult because I now have car insurance and am in the process of getting health insurance. I might even go for a tri-fecta here and file my taxes on time!

Additionally, I got rid of my table that I never used which was taking up too much space. My hair is now pretty short and I like it. I got Sammi hooked on Sherlock/in love with Benedict Cumberbatch. And I watched season 3 of Sherlock. These are accomplishments to me, don't judge (or do so silently, if you must).

And Cathy's wedding was actually pretty fun if you ignore all the boring bits. I mean, free food!

The only downers are:
1. Floyd needs new struts and I don't know where that money is coming from because
2. I'm supposed to be saving for a new car and
3. Bills.
4. Still have no bird because of the previously mentioned money concerns.

Still, all in all, a decent month so far. Tonight I get to spend some quality time with my Sammi and my Netflix (The most important people in my life). Right now I'm going to start a potentially awesome book, The Gate Thief by Orson Scott Card, sequel to The Lost Gate, which I just re-read yesterday. This is already more reading than I've done the past two years. Hopefully I can regain my voracious reading habits again, while also not letting my Netflix feel too neglected...in the end it's all just time-management, though, right?

How are people ever bored?

Another New Year

I think I am officially failing this 30 day challenge thinger...but I've decided not to care. Much like my new New Years resolution. Just kidding. But really. Last year I was apparently in a much different state of mind. Perhaps in the mostly-not-hungover state of mind that did not follow me to my present still-a-bit-hung-over state. Okay, so I just drank half a bottle of wine and I'm a little tired, which is different than hungover.

Anyway, I don't think I've accomplished anything from last year's to do list, as is my way, so I don't see much point in making a new one. It was a pretty terrible/normal year. This year I think I'll just try to become a better hermit. Maybe read some good books. Smoke less? I don't know, I'm really bad at self-improvement and it's very cold right now. I just want to sleep forever and never work or do anything at all. Can that be my resolution?

Bleh. The wine was a very bad idea.

Have not died yet...

Ugh. I haven't posted in a bit, so I just thought I'd leave an update. Nothing is going on in my life except that I've been sickly and tired. And I work more than I want to. On Fridays I get piss-faced drunk. I feel like I've become a cliche. It's...interesting in that it's not. I think I'll start one of those 30 day challenge things next month if I'm feeling really optimistic...if not, I'll save it for the new year. Because procrastination is what I'm all about every year, but January is when I can pretend that will change.

My throat hurts. I'm going to watch the 50th Anniversary episode of Doctor Who, Day of the Doctor, now. So psyched! Then I will curl into a ball and die.

What's In My Bag?

The contents of my purse, because I decided to clean it out today...even I was a little taken aback by the random crap in there. This is no Us Weekly list.

1 pack fruit snacks, half pack peanut m&m's
3 lip balms
4 lighters
1 novelty syringe
1 can opener
2 packs Red 72's
Half pack Orbit Sweet Mint
Napkin with a phone number written in blue ink
Grocery list
3 Werther's candies, 1 soggy mint
2 poems
6 unnecessary receipts
1 black pen
1 purple eyeliner pencil
2 Ibuprofin
1 Small lotion
1 Tampon
1 Body Spray
Piece of paper listing the 50 States

McGuyver could make a bomb with my purse.

Blondie

My experiment with being blonde yielded some interesting results. There were a lot of things being brunette didn't quite prepare me for in the life of blondness. Here are a few notes from my journey as a bleach blonde. I wrote this some time ago when I was still mostly blonde, and don't feel like changing the tenses because I'm a lazy fuck, so enjoy as is!

1. Being of mixed heritage, I normally get questioned "What are you" quite frequently. With blonde hair, I have not been asked that once. Whether I just don't look as ethnic, or whatever, I just don't know. I do know that no random strangers have asked me what I am since dying my hair this light of a hue.

2. People assume blondes are dumb. This is a thing that should be pretty obvious, given all the dumb blonde jokes floating around out there, but really think about it for a minute. Have you thought about it? Don't lie to me, you didn't think about shit, did you? Shut up. Anyway, my point is that I find myself doing the same thing all the time. Not necessarily on purpose, I see a blonde girl and almost automatically think she must be dumb. I use smaller words and over-explain. Well played fate, because this naturally brunette girl has been on the other end of the judgement stick. I find myself constantly having to prove (to strangers) that I am not an idiot, which as a brunette was never a problem. I looked like a nerd, so I must have been smart. Now I apparently look like a dumb blonde.

3. Guys think I am a slut. Okay, I guess this only counts when I'm dressed somewhat nicely, but still. I have been hit on and asked out more as a blonde than as any other hair color. This may or may not be because they think I am a dumb slut. Of course it could just be because I look like less of an introverted bitch. Trick's on you Men at Bars! I'm still an introverted bitch, with all the problems that develop from being an insecure brunette!

4. Blondes get away with more things. For whatever reason(see 2 and 3) people are more inclined to be tolerant of me. People are chattier. Also it appears to have classed me up a bit. Old people seem to not notice my piercings and tattoos as much, which is weird. The brightness of my hair must blind them.

5. Smart girls are wary of blondes. Slutty girls flock to me now. I am a golden lion's mane of fake slutty roar. Drunk bitches also love me now. Okay, drunk bitches have always loved me. Whatever.

6. I think maybe the hair has made me more confident. I feel prettier. I walk more boldly. I preen a little bit. I wear too much bronzer. My old man wardrobe doesn't feel right, the colors clash or something. So I wear semi-mainstream styles. Black (always awesome) looks even better with blonde hair.

7. It's harder to go unnoticed. I think the biggest advantage a short brunette has is the natural sneakiness. I blend with the shadows. I am a ninja. But everyone notices when a blonde enters the room. My hair sucks in all the surrounding light and uses it to glow even brighter. Sometimes I miss being a shadow.

To summarize, it's been fun, but my hair grows like a motherfucker and it's tiring bleaching my hair that much. Think I'll lay off it for a while. Maybe at some point in the future I'll bore everyone to tears with more posts about my hair and the rad colors I dyed it after the blonde. We shall see.

It's All Good

Since my last post was so depressing, I decided to make some lists of things I do actually like about myself and others. But I like myself the most. Ha.

What I Like About Myself:
1. I have very pretty nails
2. How much self-control I do possess
3. That I am okay on my own, need no one to "complete me"
4. I am easily entertained, and rarely bored
5. How good I look with any hair color
6. My dorky sense of humor
7. My (sometimes) angelic voice

What I Like About Others:
1. When they throw out a random compliment and it makes my day better
2. When they are foul mouthed and bitchy in a good way
3. How open and honest they can be, letting me into their world
4. Their little acts of kindness
5. The unexpected thing you have in common with strangers
6. When they are exactly themselves and nothing else with no pretense
7. How resilient their hearts are

So you see, I'm not all bitter and jaded. It's just that sometimes I hate everything/one and sometimes I don't. Hope that cleared things up...but really, whatever.

Sick Of It All

Sometimes my horoscope is oddly accurate. Today is one of those days. It is 7a.m. and I've already been pissier than I should with my boss, and said far too much of what I actually think. Also there's some other shit on my mind that I don't feel like getting into. But here are some lists.

Things I hate about myself:
1. How I nearly cry every time I'm frustrated.
2. How I make up these intricate check/balance systems that no one else follows, because why should they? I'm a crazy person.
3. How easily I become overwhelmed
4. How personally I can take things

Things I hate about other people:
1. How they assume I'm in a bad mood just because I'm actually saying what's on my mind
2. How I'm not given the same consideration I give them
3. How their problems are somehow more valid than mine
4. How quickly they forget

I guess I'm done, I just needed a rant. I'm just sick of work and pretty much everything else in my life. I'm not sure if this is just a bad day or if this is just me. Whatever. I'm going to catch up on some Dexter and then have a nap.

Fun-Sucker

Okay, so July is going to be mildly busy for me. I'm going to Chicago on the 13th to meet up with my Mommy and estranged younger brother. Then the 21st I am hopefully going to Warped Tour in Minnesota. Have to buy my ticket soon, just hoping nothing comes up, like work or Floyd blowing up or some shit. Then Sammi will be back the last weekend of July! Her mommy is having a retirement party. I'm just writing this all here so I won't forget.

Side note: I am a bit of a freak because I fucking hate traveling. I hate driving, I hate new places, I hate hotels, and just generally not being able to shit in my own goddamn house. But I freaking love planning and packing and travel sized things. What the fuck kind of sense does that make? So, yeah, obviously I've been making lists like a motherfucker. Because I'm prone to anxiety and this is my idea of a good time. Why people never believe me when I tell them I'm a fun-sucker, I do not know.

I'm also the girl who always has a band-aid and McGyver-esque skills with a safety pin. Just so you know.

Then there's work...where a lady we basically just hired, quit today. This past Saturday, she called in "sick". Later that day, Erin (the girl cop) came in asking where she lived b/c she was sighted with some guys in a car throwing rocks at the Hardies??? So then Erin goes to her house, where she finds our 50 year old new hire drunk off her ass, playing hooky. Jodi had to cover her shift (overnight) so, obviously she was a little angry. However, summer is a horrible time to be short of employees, because everyone wants to take vacation (I want to take a vacation) so she was just going to write her up and scold her. But Jodi had a bad feeling about her still, so she calls her today to make sure she's coming in for her shift tonight. Her reply is basically just "NO". What a rude fucking cunt.

So I guess at least I'll have plenty of hours this month. I'm just hoping I still get my weekends off that I asked for. So I can go on vacation and have a couple anxiety attacks. I mean fun, have some fun.

Songspiration?

I'm pretty sure I'm singing in this year's Humboldt Idol at Downtown Sounds on July 5th. I say "pretty sure" because I'm not quite sure what to sing. By which I mean, of course, literally every song I sing well has suddenly fled my brain. Are there songs I sing well? Are they appropriate for a mock singing competition? What exactly do people sing at these things? I have watched maybe one episode of American Idol...I get the premise, but yeah.

I think I'm just making this harder than it needs to be (that's what she said), it is just a Chamber of Commerce event. But still. I will have some fierce competition with my Errrrique and his cousin singing as well. They sing like little angels.

So, if anyone can give me any song ideas...that would be greaaaaat. Just, ya know, not crappy songs.

May Remembers

I haven't really posted this month. I've been in a weird mood. In May I feel like I get to be openly sad without being a freak. Maybe that's not actually true because after 8 years  people might think it's insincere. But it's not. To contradict myself a sentence later, I guess it's not exactly sadness anymore, though. It's more...reflection. I just like to reflect upon the sadness. Remember my time with Chad. Remember losing Chad.

remember to never lose this comic.

I go back to my old blog and read through 2005. Remember how Chad influenced my life. Remember when Chad told me he was gay. Remember our car rides. Remember who I was at that time. It's strange to remember feeling all those things, being in those places, but also feel strangely disconnected with that girl that was me. That embarrassingly open book of a girl. That dumb girl. That naive girl. That awkward girl. I don't see much of her in myself anymore...even though I am still sort of all those things.

May is a time of learning. Learning to move through life again, like I did all those years ago. Learning that I can make new habits, form new friendships. And I can lose them all and still exist. May is a time of acceptance, and defiance, and happiness amidst the shitty. May is a time of many cigarettes.

Sugar Rush

I'm in a pretty great mood right now. Maybe it's because I just got done watching 3 seasons of The Guild with Tyler, and also consumed way too much sugar (Coke). I am super sad this is probably the last season. But anyway, Tyler's into this MMO, Neverwinter, and got me really psyched to try it...then I get home and can't download it b/c my computer tells me there's a virus in the download. Fail. Whatever, I'll figure it out later. Not gonna bring me down.

I worked out yesterday, so I feel like sitting on my ass and drawing is a valid option for today. I have been seriously slacking in the artsy department lately, but I feel it's been balanced out by the devotion I've shown in attending music events.

LAZERfest was pretty great; got trashed, got a sunburn, almost got smushed to death, made out with a guy from my high school days randomly, went home, passed out. Good day. Then Sunday I went to Byron's in Pomeroy, Ia to watch The Sundogs. Mostly Dan Lodden just decided to kidnap me out there, but it was a good time. Byron is super nice and his bar is actually a pretty rad atmosphere. Live music most Sundays, so I might try to make it out there again at some point.

Memorial Weekend I might try to make it out to that thing at the Meadow, and then June 1st there's that thing at the Ballroom. Not to overwhelm everyone with specificity, or anything. But I'm pumped. Last year, nearly all my plans to do things fell through for various reasons, so I'm just trying to make the most out of this one.

And not cry myself to sleep every night from missing my BFFF who will be in New York all summer interning and just being generally awesome. Away from me. But don't cry for me Argentina, I've decided this summer is going to be rad.

Although, that could just be the sugar talking.

Random Childhood Memory

When I was 6 or 7, I was at a Thanksgiving at my Great Uncle Manson's house (I used to call him Uncle Mansion...he had a big house). All the children went out when it got dark and were playing flashlight tag. At some point, this got boring, so they decided to play a different game. I don't know what you call it, but one cousin grabbed my hands, the other my legs, and they picked me up and started swinging me.

this, sans black guy jumping around.

This was probably the most terrifying thing I had experienced at that point in my life. I don't know why, but probably because I gave neither my consent, nor would they let me go when they heard me screaming and crying. They just laughed. I should mention they were all quite a bit older than me, 10 or 12 maybe. When they finally put me down I'm pretty sure I ran to the grown-ups, sitting with them the rest of the night. I remember feeling shame at being so helpless, and rage at their ridicule. Rage at the way the grown-ups dismissed what I felt was a great indignity.

I saw that GIF the other day and it brought that terror and shame back to me in a perplexing flash.

Looking back on this, I realize the only reason I reacted that way was because I was singularly unused to other children. I was an only child still, I had no close relations my age around, and my friends were church kids. Every childhood indignity was deeply traumatizing to me because of my lack of interaction with other children. Now that I'm older, I can set it on a grander scale and say I probably still struggle with this as an adult. Which is just a little ridiculous, I think.

Sleepless Saturday

Saturday was a long freaking day. I worked Friday overnight, so just stayed up all day since the way everything was scheduled would make sleeping an impossibility. I did accomplish a decent amount, however, so I guess all's well that ends well.

First, Kari and I got our hair cut, then had some Lomitas(yum!). Then we trekked to Algona and got some pretty sweet tattoos from Jesse Willison. So glad he's already super good. Also, so sorry we took ten freaking years. Don't know how that happened. Pretty sure he hates me now for all the tiny fucking lines.

palm sized.

Then, next door at the Afterlife was Battle of the Bands, where I got super trashed trying to battle my severe sleepiness. These bands were the highlight of the night for me:

Twenty 2 Salute is always a good time (if you know what I mean *winkwink*) (I mean they are good with their hands) (on guitars and such) (this is so much dirtier than if I had just said nothing) but I was also glad I caught Smoothwood because I've been into classic punk sounds recently. I think we got back to town around 2ish? I was mostly off my face at that point. So of course I went to an afterparty to annoy people. At least I saw Clinty there, love him. Think I got home at 5am or so. Halfway through a slice of pizza, I finally passed out.

Anyway, I think being out and about was good for me as I haven't really socialized in a long while. Mostly I've just been too lazy. Think I'm returning to lazy because now I'm just at this point where I should do dishes and laundry, but won't. All I've done the past two days is work and watch Hemlock Grove. And my back hurts. And it feels like someone shot me in the arm. I mean, I paid someone to basically stab me in the arm a bunch of times, but still. Why you hurt so much, little heart?

Also, my hair is purple...but more on that later.

Expectations

Last night was...interesting. Okay, not really, but it did deviate slightly from the norm. By that I mean my car is stuck on some snow/ice. I spent 20 or so minutes trying to shovel my way out, only to find that the snow I needed to get rid of was underneath my car. I was not moving. Luckily a co-worker hadn't gone to sleep yet, so she took me to work.

Cooler truck comes on Thursdays, so I spent the majority of my shift organizing that pile of crap. Because it was a disaster. To be perfectly honest, I actively discourage everyone else from organizing in there because they all suck at it. I like everything to be where I like it. Also it just makes everything 1000 times more consistently in the same place. New people come in and think they can just throw shit wherever, but then it's harder to find and therefore stupid. Sorry, just my organizational OCD (anal retentive self-superiority) kicking in. I know nobody really cares about this, but I have a system and it is awesome. Don't fuck with my system.

Anyway, so I spend the night dealing with that shit-fest, and then get the breakfast items ready, deal with customers, do some of the books. My boss comes in miffy that I didn't get all of the books done. I did half of them, but apparently that is not good enough. All I can feel is indignation. Last time I checked, I am not a manager of any sort. I don't need to do the books, I do them so I can get out of work on time. Otherwise she makes me stay for however goddamned long it takes her to do them. So, it's not like I expect her to thank me when I do them, I would just like to not get bitched at for not doing something I don't have to do in the first place. Would that be too much to ask? Apparently.

So I guess the moral of this story is, don't do things. Not even if you're paid for them. Because then you are the target of expectations. Also, don't get your car stuck on a snowbank that turns to ice, it's a pain in the ass.