Blah, Blah, Blah, Work, Blah, Blah

One of the last times I posted, I mentioned that I couldn't or shouldn't talk about work.

Well, fuck it.

Because that's where all my best stories are from in the last couple of weeks.

I can always go back and delete this, right?

Right.

Anyway, let's start with something fun and positive.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a huge event to commemorate Dr. Seuss' birthday at the store.

We had face painting, games, cupcake decorating, storytelling all day long.

Hundreds and hundreds of kids everywhere.

Knowing me, do you think I was happy or pissed off about this?

I bet you guessed wrong, bitches!!

I got to paint my face and wear an awesome hat all day long.

Who wouldn't be jazzed about that??

And it was really fun seeing all the kids so excited. One of our employees dressed in a Cat in the Hat costume and went around all day entertaining the masses.

She was a real sport about it too, because those costumes are fucking sweltering. At one point she was taking a break in the back room and I thought she was literally going to pass out from heat exhaustion. Sometimes I'm really glad that I'm too fat to get into those things.

The day was really fun, but by the end of my shift, customers were starting to get pissy.

The regulars were pissy because they couldn't get to anything and it was really loud and crowded in there. And the people that came just for the even got pissy because their kids were getting pissy.

So I was happy to leave by 3pm, and leave everyone to be pissy.

I stopped to pick up sandwiches from Subway on the way home, and there was no way I was taking off that hat after wearing it all day. My hair was a tangled, sweaty beehive-looking nest under that thing.

A hot dude in line was actually hitting on me while I had cat makeup and that hat on. It was the crowning achievement of my life, really.

The rest of the last couple of weeks...meh, not as fun.

I've been sick as shit in the last week. Felt like there's been a family of angry squirrels living in my lungs.  I'm finally doing a little bit better. I'm never sick, so when I am it really hits me.

And speaking of shit...

Someone actually took one in the hallway to the bathrooms/break room at work the other day.

Pooped.

Right.

In.

The.

Hallway.

I'm sure it was a little kid. Well, I'm actually hoping it was a little kid, 'cause yikes.

Usually I'm the one that gets screwed over and has to deal with things like that, but thank the sweet Baby Jesus in the manger that I wasn't there that morning. My friend Sean had to clean it up.

If the kid was young enough to have pooped in the hallway, don't you think a parent would have been nearby? And seen this? And you know, perhaps cleaned it up??

Yeah. People are fucking awesome.

And speaking of awesome people...

There have been a lot of angry-ass bible customers this last week.

Thrice (yep, I said thrice) I've had people angry over the price of bibles.

People always say, 'It's in the bible.'

They're full of shit, because there are zillions upon kajillions of bibles. Different translations, different styles, different uses.

Gift bibles, travel bibles, study bibles, parallel bibles...(I'm starting to sound like Bubba from 'Forrest Gump' here)

Some are really expensive, some are really cheap.

People never want the $10 bible. They want the $85 bible. But they want us to sell it to them for $10.

One woman in particular got all up in my face.

Customer: Excuse me. I need a King James Version bible for my kid.

Me: Well, we only have one in the store. There aren't many KJV bibles made for children in general. It's a hard translation for them to understand.

Customer: She needs it for school. How much is it?

Me; $30

*customer's eyes bug out of her head*

Customer: For a bible?? That's ridiculous. I'm not paying $30.

Me: Well, that's the price. We don't set the prices, the publishers do.

Customer: She needs it for school.

Me: Well, this is the only one we have. And it's $30.

Customer: That's crazy! Considering GOD was the publisher in the first place!

Yep.

She actually said that.

I had no idea that God was in the printing business. Is it in the bible? Maybe you can take up high bible prices with Him, Lady.

Oh, and let him know how awesome you were treating me, He'll love that.

Three different ones like that. Yesterday was the latest one...you know. On Sunday. When this person had ovbiously just come straight from church to the store.

I wonder what it is about the drive over that makes them forget everything they just learned at church?

I don't attend church, I never have. Yet I always treat others well, as I'd like to be treated.

Funny how that is, eh?

Anyway, the weather is starting to get really gorgeous here. That's definitely a plus.

Hopefully it'll start cheering people up. It's definitely cheering ME up.

Oh, and I got a faaaaaaaabulous new pair of Converse,

Talk about cheered up!!

Chuck's Annual Oncologist Appointment

NO CANCER.

Thought you might like to know :)

Is It Really March Already?

Jesus.

Where is the fucking time going?

So, as Cal pointed out to me the other day, I haven't been writing on here as much lately.

I started a second blog on tumblr, and I spend a lot of time playing on it.

It's something that's quick, easy, and I don't have to think much about what I'm writing, like I do on here. Plus, I get to hang out with a bunch of girls that are just as Cumberaddicted as I am :)

And the reason that's so attractive to me right now, is because I've had a lot on my mind. I like the mindless escape of Tumblr (which they should really call Crackblr).

I don't like to talk about unpleasant things on here. No one likes a downer.

Lots of stuff going on work that I don't want to blog about. Or really shouldn't blog about. So that's out for discussion.

And the rest is mundane. And I've been a little sad.

Maybe I'm attracted to Tumblr because of the amount of followers I have over there. I AM an attention-whore in case you haven't noticed. :)

I've had it for a month and a half, and I just passed 800 followers. Which blows my mind. I feel like a cult leader.

The average age range of users over there is pretty young. Lots of teenage girls. I've made good friends with a few of the 'older' folk on there (older meaning 25-30).

The teenage girls are lovely, they're just excited fangirls, like me. Which is AWESOME.

But they make me sad sometimes.

So many of them feel so bad about themselves. Talk about how depressed they are. How ugly they are. How they're not skinny enough. Or pretty enough. How they just want to kill themselves. Or they talk about cutting themselves.

It doesn't happen all the time, or I wouldn't be on there. It'd be too sad. But once in awhile I'll see a post roll through my dashboard that contains those things.

I wish I could just hug all of them and tell them to be more confident and love themselves for who and what they are.

But I also remember what I felt like when I was that age. I felt the same, went through the same things, had the same thoughts. Confidence in who you are only comes with time. I'm glad it only took me till my mid-20's to not give a shit about what others think of me and be happy with myself.

I feel like I'm making a little bit of a difference though. I've received some lovely compliments to the tune of  'You make me feel like I can say what I'm thinking, because you say whatever you're thinking!' and the like.

That makes my heart happy.

I've also been doing a lot of fiction-writing the last couple of months. Nothing anyone on here would want to read, it's 'just' fanfiction (and gay fanfiction at that). But I love it. The story I'm working on is the longest thing I've ever written, and it's still going. And I'm proud of it. I've had over 3000 hits on it, and 150 people left me notes about how much they loved it. It may not be 'real' writing, but it makes me happy and gives me an outlet for creativity. Even if it's just for a select demographic.

Anyway, I hope something awesome happens to me every couple of days from here on out, so that I can write a little more often on here.

Thanks Cal, for reminding me that it's not the number of followers I have, it's the quality of the readers :) Everyone that regularly leaves me a comment on here is my friend. :)

Love you guys!

It Should Be Against the Law

...for me to own houseplants.

I actually can't believe that I haven't killed this one already. I've had it for...5 years?

It was fine until this last year. And I'm pissed off because I'm actually sort of attached to that plant.

Am I giving it too much water? Not enough? Does it need repotting?

I don't know if it's even repottable at this point. If I even so much as look at it, a piece falls off.

I keep expecting a little boy to ride through my living room on his Big Wheel croaking, "REDRUM".

Houseplants are my nemesis.

Ooh, look. I made it through a post without fucking swearing.

 DAMMIT. Oh well.

Converse Porn

Say hello to my new favourite possessions.

I don't know what it is about Converse, they are the sexiest fucking shoe on the planet.

I love them on chicks, I love them on dudes. I like them in a box, I like them on a fox.

This is getting a little Dr. Seuss, isn't it?

I bought Chuckles a pair for Christmas, and every time we go on a date, I make a request that he wear them.

Chuck Taylors for Chuck Adams. :)

Chuck wore them in the 70's when they were cool the first time. He said they were the cheapest shoe you could get, and everyone wore them for basketball.

He said he also enjoyed them because he could tromp through streams and puddles in them, and they'd dry really quickly. That's my Chuckles, the outdoorsy type.

And the real reason he's happy to wear them when I ask, is because I immediately want to have sex with him. With only the shoes on.

That THAT mental image to the bank and cash it.

If I had a penis, I totally would have sex with my new Converse, I would. Hell, even though I don't have a penis, I have to admit that I've tried it. And it was satisfying enough to make me want a cigarette afterwards. And I don't even smoke.

Look at the purple. LOOK AT THE FUCKING PURPLE.

And they've got a double tongue. I LOVE THE DOUBLE TONGUE.

Please take that as innuendo, because these shoes are pure, All-Star sex.

I suspect a Converse habit is forming. Especially since I found out you can custom design your own shoe online.

Like these:

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

ALL THE SHOE PORN!!!

Yesterday when I had to change out of them and into my work shoes, I got sad very quickly. The day went down hill from there.

In other breaking girly news, I also bought a purse this week.

I fucking hate buying purses.

It's just a container with a zipper. I will never understand how one could pay $10,000 for a bag to put one's shit into.

But then again, those same people might not understand the strong urge I have to hump Converse.

The tone of this post was so intellectual.

You're welcome.

We're Gonna Need a Big Cake to Fit All Those Damn Candles

Chuckles turns 50 today. :)

Chuck has been walking around yelling, "IIIIIIIII'm 50! 50 years old!" this whole last week.

You probably want to watch this video if you don't know what I'm on about.

Chuck's high kick isn't quite as high as Molly Shannon's, but then again he is missing a lung, so let's forgive him for that, shall we?

Some people celebrate their 50th birthdays by throwing a huge party, inviting friends and family from across the continent/world, just to congratulate them for making it this far or to make fun of them in front of everyone for being old. Or both.

What is Chuck doing for his?

Skydiving?

Running a marathon?

Scaling Mt. Kilimanjaro?

None of the above.

Chuckles shares his birthday with the Superbowl this year. We're going over to a friend's house to watch the game, eat some homemade corn dogs and clam chowder, and have just a few other good friends to help him celebrate.

And make fun of him for being so old. :)

Currently, he's lying in bed in his pyjamas (which he never does this late in the morning) watching nature shows. 

What a badass, huh? Well, he got his wildness out years ago, thank the sweet baby Jesus in the manger.

He's done a lot in 50 years.

Was born...obviously (Chuck's the one sitting in the middle)

Went to school and played sports... (ball's behind you there, little Chuckles)

Joined the Marines after high school...

Got out of the Marines and grew a beard...

Shaved off beard and met an awesome, hot, young, Canadian chick...

Survived cancer...

Married awesome, young, hot, Canadian chick...

Went on adventures to see all sorts of awesome things...(and he did get to climb a mountain as you can see, just not one in Africa)

Married off his oldest daughter...

....and his favourite, finally got to see a UNC Tar Heel basketball game in person.

Like, I said, Chuck's lived a full life in 50 years. Sometimes a little too full, there are stories I've heard about him that I don't even like to think about too hard, let alone blog about. Yikes.

Glad I got to spend the last 7 of Chuck's years with him.

I remember when I met him, he was just about to turn 43. I thought, "Wow, in 7 years, he'll be 50! And I'll be 30... That's so far away though...")

Well, 50's here now.

Happy Birthday, Chuckles!! You're 50!

50 years old!!!!!

Here's to the next 50 years!!

(And yes Chuck, I can hear you grumbling right now, "Not gonna make it another 50 years...*grumble*", and you can just stop it :) )

What I Did on My Winter Vacation

After being off for 12 days, getting back to work was super fun.

Most people were saying to me, "Oh, but aren't you glad to go back? I'd be bored out of my mind!"

Two words: Piss off!

I LOVED my vacation. I would've been happy to have another couple of weeks off. I pretty much got paid last week to play on the internet. I have a feeling I sort of looked like this:

I started a new blog on Tumblr in an attempt to stop irritating the fuck out of everyone with talk of Sherlock and Teh Cumberbatch. I've gained 80 followers in like...6 days. Took me almost 2 years to get 119 over here.

Apparently I've been writing for the wrong demographic. 17-year-old fangirls think I'm hilarious. So there.

(Oh, shut up...:P)

I've also done some fiction writing. I haven't done that in quite a few years, just sat down and wrote about something that didn't happen to me. It's nothing of any import, but I'm lovin' it. (I sound like a McDonald's commercial)

I had a rough few days there last week when my co-worker Hannah died, so all of these things were a nice escape. I still don't think I'm quite right about it all. I've still been sad a lot. For a lot of reasons.

So I am happy to be back at work where all my friends are. We spent the last couple of days laughing a lot. Well, I spent the last couple of days trying to make everyone laugh and succeeding. Yesterday morning I had all of my makeup cried off (from laughter) by 8am.

I think they missed me. It's nice to be missed.

It's also a good thing I'm back at work anyway, because I think I was starting to turn into a man. A filthy, lazy bachelor. If I could've grown a beard, I would've.

I kept forgetting to eat because I was on the internet so much (I really need to market 'The Internet Diet'...had my hands in so many tech cookie jars, that I didn't have any time to stick them into real ones).

Anyway, at one point I thought I had better tear myself away from the computer for some victuals or starve to death, and I found myself staring into sort of an empty fridge.

We did have a large bowl of cold roasted leftover potatoes and onions in there. I was too lazy to put them in the microwave, so I stood there in front of the fridge, eating cold potatoes out of this giant bowl with a fork. There may or may not have been cold gravy involved as well.

So yeah. Not much exercise got done last week. But with the forgetting to eat (and also the cultivation of a serious tea habit) I think everything got balanced out.

It's really died down at work, traffic-wise. Occasionally you can hear crickets if you listen closely.

Kind of nice not to be run off my feet the first two days back, but the days seem loooooooooong after what I was used to for the last few months. I shouldn't be surprised, it happens every year and I've been there for four years.

But, you know. I suppose it's like a having a baby. You go through a lot of pain, and then promptly forget how much pain you went through so that you can do it all over again next time.

I just compared bookselling to having babies. Wow.

Anyway, thought I'd give you an update on Kyna. You know, just in case you missed me. ;)