The Power Of...

my uterus:

is being talked about throughout the store.

Now, before you make it weird, let me explain.

The whole situation with A Hola--I reference at least one other post in the venting area--involves his ethnic heritage being his leverage to bully others in the store.

He makes 100% of the women in the store uncomfortable. Most tolerate him and are polite. I have had him on *ignore* since he called management on me to get ME in trouble because he was an about my calling him for Code 50's and such.

Anyway, I made the comment, "My uterus trumps his ethnic heritage."

And now, several people have come up to me and commented about "your uterus." The funniest part is, NO ONE in that store WARNED A Hola not to mess with me--and he's done it twice so far.

He's very well behaved now, though. I think somehow, they made it clear to him that not only do I have a track record, but, I also treat EVERYONE the same (the comment was specifically, in writing, noted in my last review).

lol. My uterus really does trump his ethnic heritage.

But, in a store that typically warns new people about me--what I expect, how I will treat them and how to not take it personally--what does it say about HIM that no one bothered to warn him and make it clear that no matter who else he messes with in the store, he needs to be very clear that he doesn't pull that BS with me.

(I'm sure he tried the whole, "she doesn't like me because..." whine, and, after fits of giggling, he was informed of the long list of current employees he can check with to see if it's a personal thing or not. I'm also fairly certain someone told him, flat out, "Dude, if she don't like you, it's because you're a lazy ignorant asshole, not for any other reason.")

I find it infinitely amusing, even now (This is from last May), that the ones who don't get *warned* are the ones no one likes...it's hilarious that the ones who ARE liked (read: who actually do their jobs and treat others decently) DO get warned.

I've also noticed that since May, there are fewer complaints about this guy, in general.

lol.

My uterus: A Very Power Thing.

Does This Make or Break My Day?

Tuesday I worked 'til close. Fun.

Clean the bathroom, straighten front and face light bulbs. It's a toss up which I hate more. But I do both, when necessary.

I also expect that the those who have the same job description I do ALSO do those things. With me, so that we all get to go home, instead of you and you sneaking out 15 minutes early so I can stay 15 minutes late to make it up.

Remember this? Well, this lovely duo on Tuesday did show up to help clean the bathrooms, but then they disappeared. Even after I said, repeatedly, "Okay, we're going to head to lightbulbs and you will BOTH come there when you're done here, right?"

One scurried across the back of the store on her cellphone, and the other ran directly from the breakroom to the front end.

The one who ran went straight to the Head Cashier and LIED and said that, "Yes, I did the lightbulbs. They're done."

The Head Cashier, though, had already had a phone call from me, telling her where they both were.

She looked at the liar and said, "Hmmm. Mumple said that you were never near the lightbulbs, and they're not finished."

Liar Liar says, "What a bitch! She's such a troublemaker."

Now, it's not a secret that I am NOT a troublemaker, however much I speak Truth.

The Head Cashier informed her that not only will she NEVER call ANYONE that again, "you're problem with Mumple is that she does her job, does it WELL, and she EXPECTS you to do your job as well, so she doesn't have to do it for you."

Liar Liar also let a man walk through self-checkouts with *a slip of paper* and product without finding out for sure if that paper was a receipt...and I told management--they saw the guy walk out also.

I'm wondering how long it will take for Liar Liar to spill it and say something to my face.

Movies

I love these movies. Whether it's some stupid hopeless romantic thing, or just a stupid thing, I don't know, and I can't seem to analyze it enough to get over it.

1. Grease 2 It's one of the most horrid wastes of time, energy, money, film and paper. It's a stupid story, with stupid, but catchy songs. Sick and demented as it is, I love it.

2. 10 Things I Hate About You Heath Ledger isn't all that much...except for this movie. I am addicted.

3. Never Been Kissed While I was not Josie Grosey in HS, I was painfully shy and struggle daily with my tormented, insecure self. I keep that shy girl roped and duct taped into silence, but sometimes, it's not enough.

Now, for the other part:

If there is any one on this planet who can please explain to me WHY WHY WHY the movie Reservoir Dogs is "just a cool movie" PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me. I've seen it, and while I agree that Tarentino has a unique style, and an unforgiving eye for man's inhumanity to man, and he is blaringly truthful in his portrayal of the fact that not everyone has a redeeming side to them, this movie is about WHAT? exactly? And why does every single man I know who has seen it say EXACTLY the same thing: "It's just a cool movie." No explanation, no reason. I get that I don't have the plumbing to easily or always understand, but in this instance, even the guiding beacon (and saving grace of me) in Kevin cannot (or will not) explain.

10 Things I Just Have To Say

10. The Toad is half-heartedly looking for a job. I'm not impressed.

9. However, I am impressed with the fact the he inspired a priest to swear at him.

8. Losing my voice was a wonderful thing--it gave me appreciation for all things vocal (mostly myself) and it caused my mother to not call me 400 times a day to tell me Squirrel Bait stories that I've already heard (it's all the same story, just a few minor twitches and VIOLA! New Squirrel Bait conversation)

7. I read too much, and I must remember to breathe a bit between books. Running from Gone with the Wind to the tripe that is it's sequel then headlong into Wicked. It's made me horribly grumpy to kick somebody's ass.

6. I need to not read books and wish I had a red pen to correct typos and errors. I also need to not think, "I wish I knew who the idiot was who proofed this tripe* before it went to the printer."
(*see above)

5. I have never seen the David Letterman show the featured the velcro wall, and I have always regretted it.

4. I have some serious confessing to do in another post to this blog. Be prepared. You will be shocked and dismayed.

3. I did not get the job I did not want. I will continue to be a despot in a teapot.

2. Limbo sucks, no matter what the reason. Now that I am no longer a resident there, I can tell you that I will not miss it.

And most importantly, I have realized, yet again:
1. Kevin is absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me, and someday, I may actually deserve to be married to him. He is, without a doubt, my soulmate, whether you believe in that stuff or not.

Oh, My NO!

First, I have to post this link:

http://www.heartless-bitches.com/blog/

It's hilarious, mostly because I love the word, and it's cousin "fuckwit". I always feel better having said it. (and this is a close to a disclaimer as you're getting on this post. Take the hint or suffer your own consequences.)

Second, I have to say that I just realized that in my previous entry, I actually called an Episcopal priest an attention whore. Wow. My mother is turning in her grave that I would use such language, let alone in reference to a man of God.

HAH.

My mother isn't dead, and even if she objected to the actual word, she'd also be running around trying to find ways to use it. Because it's true.

Unfortunately for the world, I seem to be off my feed lately, and have been feeling rather chummy and nicey-nice to those around me.

I swear to you, this will stop.

I am never so happy as I am when I am seeing, speaking, and hearing Truth.

So, let's all have a collective *sigh* at the ever-dimming prospects of my becoming respectable, and move on, shall we?

Almost As Good As a Birthday

The Howler is a germ magnet of the grandest proportions--and how the germs effect her is never how they effect the other members of the house.

She infected me with a spring cold. While on vacation. At my inlaws.

So, of course, she's over it once she spews all over the kitchen linoleum, and I am sore to the eyes, and since we're not at home, unable to get as much rest as I'd like. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but the mattress on the bed we sleep in isn't that comfortable--and the bed is smaller than ours at home. And Kevin and I are both bed hogs.

But back to my point.

We're finishing our vacation with Kevin not happy to go back to work (and plenty of it for Monday) and me without a voice. It was gravelly and crackly yesterday, and, after having to squeak at the Howler (she was doing the selective hearing thing she does so well) at least twice, my voice is totally gone. I can get a whisper if I don't speak for at least 2 hours.

It's frustrating, because my head hurts besides, and even clearing my throat produces nothing more than an raw feeling and makes my eyes burn.

I have to work tomorrow, and while it may seem silly, I do need to be able to at least whisper a bit--people will ask me questions and wild gesticulating isn't communicating to my family--not even Kevin--I don't think it's going to go over well with anyone at work. Especially not on the phone or page.

Even with a dry erase board, I don't think this will work.

It's even more fun, because I have to call myself off--Kevin can't do it--no matter what. I'd have to get up, go in, and squeak at them and hope they realize it's not fake, and I really can't speak.

There are calls I need to make, and I can't because I can't get above a whisper to come out of my mouth. I have to hope that I can get Kevin or Theo to do the talking for me, and Theo is not really co operating or being helpful. Apparently, my losing my voice is more inconvenient to him than it is to me.

It's almost as much fun as having an extra birthday.

Free Fun

This weekend was Community Days in our little neck of the woods.

Of course, the Howler was not-so-patiently awaiting them.

We took her down on Friday afternoon for a few hours of free swimming at the city pool, and then off to find the best hot sausage sandwiches on the planet. The Howler had a hot dog.

Most of what's there is free, or the money goes to non-profit organizations in the area. The Howler, of course, had us walking from one end to the other as she did the fun things in the order in which they were in her brain--not the order the planners set up.

The church I used to attend and whose current clergy is a loud-mouthed, self-serving, attention whore saw us (they had a booth) and he immediately got in the Howler's face. Now, the Howler may like to be in YOUR face, but she freezes up when someone she doesn't recognize is in hers. She can be quite rude (he's lucky, actually, that he didn't get a pop in the chops from her because he also is dense and wouldn't see a hint if it were wearing blinking pasties on in-yer-face-perky tits) but this time, she simply cowered behind Kevin's legs.

On a happy note, Kevin did find some cheesy fries that were salty and really really tasty. Considering how little salt we use these days, the cheesy fries were heaven! He also saw some old friends (ex's family) who hugged and kissed and fell all over him.

This year, the planners, in their search for more interesting and fun things, found an elephant show. The show started at 7pm. The stands were packed pretty full by the time we got there. It was 20 or 30 minutes before the show started. I found someone I knew, and begged a seat by them for the Howler. (thanks, Brian & family!)

In order to get the Howler to the seat, we had to lift her to my chest height onto the highest level of bleachers.

The Howler is not a small person. I hoisted her as best I could, and of course, it wasn't high enough. She was no help, in that apparently, in some previous life, she really was a delicate princess.

A man who was standing near us, holding a section of bleachers for his family, helped get her up and over. He was spitting tabaccy juice, his shirt was unbuttoned to his navel... and then he turns to me and says, "Yep. It's a good thing you're a husky one."

Kevin and I look at each other and choke back the laughter.