Business as usual

Damn. I sure do complain a lot, don't I? Looking through my only four posts, I suddenly remembered why I decided to laugh my way through life, not sweat the small stuff, and expect nothing: Because whenever I do otherwise, I'm consistently disappointed. Well, now that we've got that epiphany out of the way, it's time for another rousing edition of Bitch'n'Moan Theatre. On today's thrilling episode, I talk about my job. So, for those of you that don't know, I work at a place called Bullmoose. It's basically the awesomest store ever. We sell CDs, tapes, vinyl, DVDs, Blu-ray, VHS, books, comics, videogames, videogame systems/accessories, plus a whole assload of other assorted goodies and accessories. We also buy used items from customers (movies, music, books, etc;). Which brings me to point number one.

                                                           No, not that.

There's this disgusting woman that's been coming in the past week or so, and just unloading box after box, after box, of books on us. By the way, I am not using the term disgusting lightly here. This creature could cause dirt itself to gag. Also, all the books she turns in are in horrible condition, meaning we can only A) offer her ten cents for them, then turn around and sell them for fifty cents a pop, or B) recycle them, because they're too damaged to do anything with. Either way though, it's not like we make much of a profit. Anyhoo, the point of all that was to say this. She came back in again today, and my friend Mick got saddled with handling her buyback. Out of curiosity, he mentioned how eclectic her book collection was, and asked where she got them all from. She mentioned she got them all for free from the Swap Shop. So, after we finish her transaction and cash her out, we look up the Swap Shop online to see just what the hell it is. Turns out it's this combination recycling center/Salvation Army type deal, except everything there is free. That's when we figured out exactly what she's been up to: she's been going there, loading up her car with boxes of free books, then coming to us and turning a profit. When we realized this, we were pretty pissed. At her, sure, but also at ourselves and the rest of the store. See, it turns out this woman has been doing this for the PAST. FOUR. YEARS.

Seriously? Four years this went on, and nobody thought to question just where exactly all this stuff she was bringing in was coming from? Trust me, if you saw this lady, you'd wonder. I don't like to stereotype (although I am guilty of doing so quite often), but there is no way this woman lives in a place big enough or nice enough to store all the crap she supposedly owns. Unless she's a hoarder. She's certainly got the hygiene of one.

Anyways, we spoke to the store manager about the woman and what she's been up to. He was as peeved as we were. Unfortunately though, since what she's doing is only immoral, and not illegal, there's not a shit-ton we can do. Personally though? I'm gonna start being extremely harsh when it comes to appraising any items she tries to sell to us from now on. And hopefully, if she starts getting significantly less from us, she'll lose interest in her scam. At least that's my dastardly plan to save the world a.k.a our humble little store.

Ah, yes, our humble little store. You know, I can honestly say that this is the best job I ever had. I love what I do, I love what we do, the customers (for the most part) are pretty awesome, I have the best boss ever, and everyone I work with is great... except for the fucking new kid.

Now, I'm not one to speak ill of anybody... oh, who am I trying to kid? I'm totally one to speak ill of somebody. Anyways, this kid is pretty much the worst type of person. No, scratch that. He is, without a doubt, the worst kind of person. Seriously. I could go on and on about how not fit this kid is for this job, or just for life in general, but I won't. Suffice it to say though, nobody wants to work with him, because he's so bad. He's lazy, rude to any authority figure that's not a manager, hates helping customers, and complains about everything.

And he also just happens to be dating the boss lady's sister.

WHAT A TWEEST!

 Yep. And, due to that juicy little tidbit above, boss lady coddles this kid like you wouldn't believe. Which is absolute bullshit. I mean, don't get me wrong. I meant it when I said earlier that she's the best boss ever, but that doesn't mean she's without her flaws. And not seeing someone's glaring faults, or the fact that they have no business working in a retail environment, just because you know them outside of the workplace on a somewhat personal level, is one of them. Luckily for all the rest of us employees though, peer review time is here. And, since all four of us who work with this kid all agree that he is horrible, his review will not be pretty. And hopefully she'll actually talk to him and he'll either shape up, or ship out.

Also, jumping back to what I said earlier about grading things harshly; We used to have standards when it came to buying books back. Now though, since the section for our book gens (the fifty cent books) is overflowing, we've been told to be lenient and start grading books higher, so that they can go on the shelves (even though the shelves themselves are quickly running out of room). Mmhmm. That's the way we're supposed to deal with the problem. Instead of advertising "Hey, we have cheap books for sale!" and actually trying to move product, like a sensible business would, we're just supposed to stop having standards, and pretty much just pay out for crap, in the hopes that this problem will, I dunno, eventually fix itself. This won't fix it though. We're just gonna end up running out of room in every section, then we're gonna be stuck with a bunch of overpriced books in a condition that nobody will be willing to pay anything close to real money for. *sigh* If only I ran the circus...

Well, that's it for this edition of Bitch'n'Moan Theatre. Tomorrow's gonna be a real exciting day. The Decemberists are gonna be playing a 45 minute set in our store, then signing copies of their new album.

These are not The Decemberists. But, if you've seen one hipster though, you've seen 'em all.

Anyhoo, everybody's real excited about the inevitable clusterfuck that tomorrow will no doubt bring. Free show by the biggest hipster band on the planet (but you've never heard of them) at a local independent record shop, in a town swarming with hipster doofuses? We are gonna almost certainly be packed beyond capacity.

And to that I say, "Bring it on."

'Cause I'm old (wipe me down)

I know those aren't the actual lyrics, but it's what I thought he was saying when I first heard that song, and it's also a good segue into what I wanna talk about. I'm aging faster than I'd like to. Lately, my body is like a clearance sale. Everything must go, go, go! My hearing (as instanced above), my sight (I see things wrong, or that aren't even there, all the time. Like the time when I was at the mall, and saw a jeep driving through the parking lot with "Masculinity" written on the side. Turns out it actually said "Mall Security".), my hair (which has been gray for years now, and which is falling out more and more all the time). Hell, even my memory is going. Why, just earlier tonight, I went to Google something. I tabbed over, opened the Google homepage.... and completely blanked. And that's not the first time that something's completely just disappeared from my mind. A couple months ago, I made myself a sandwich, put the bread, meat, and mayo away, shut the fridge, walked out of the kitchen... then immediately went back into the kitchen, 'cause I couldn't remember if I had put the mayo away or not.

I used to be a lot sharper when I was younger. And the saddest thing about all of this is I'm not even that old, really. Nor have I really abused my body with narcotics. So I'm pretty sure all of this is hereditary. I know for a fact that vision, memory, and hair loss all run in my family. I just thought I'd have more time before it caught up to me though.

Can I do this from here?

Joy is to survive

DISCLAIMER: This is the exact same post that was on my Tumblr, just moved here. Just a fair warning, in case you've already read it. Also, there’s gonna be a lot of words, so if you don’t feel like reading a bunch you can just watch the video at the end, which’ll basically sum everything up.

The other day, a close friend informed me that, if I ever needed to rant about anything, she’d gladly listen. This came as no surprise to me, nor was it the first time I had heard something like it. In fact, I know that I have many people that care about me, and any problems I may have….and that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around.
See, I’ve never been one to talk about my problems, or bare my soul, or any of that. I’ve always chosen to project an eternally carefree image, and deal with any real issues I may have on my own. Consider me an introverted extrovert, if you will. For whatever reason though, I’ve decided to open the floodgates and let everything I think about myself out into the open. Maybe this’ll make me look down upon myself less. Maybe it’ll justify everything I already feel. It’ll almost certainly paint me in a new light to a lot of people. Whether that ends up being a negative or a positive thing though, remains to be seen. Okay, I’m gonna shut up and start talking now:
I have what I like to call Xander Syndrome (yes, like the character from Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Here’s what I mean:
1: I try my best, and would do anything for the people I love and care about, even though I have no real skills or anything to offer, and;
2: I joke constantly about anything and everything, to avoid dealing with, you guessed it, anything and everything. I love trying to help my friends through any problems I may have. Yes, it is because I care about them, but there’s also a deeper, more selfish reasoning behind it. Every time I can have a hand in improving someone’s day/life/whatever it makes me feel… like I’m worth something. Also, helping other people deal is so much easier than dealing on my own, which is why I choose to do so.
3: I have way more female friends than male. It’s always been this way. When it comes to choosing close friends, I’ve always gone for people where I feel I can be myself completely. Both the inane, goofy side that the world sees, and the thoughtful, philosophical side that few ever get to see. And I’ve found very few male friends that I can share that side with. Not saying they don’t exist, as I do have a couple. Just that they’re a lot rarer than the female of the species. And speaking of females…
4: All my relationships start out fine, then they end up to be bloodsucking hellbeasts that want nothing more than to devour my soul, once they’ve decided they have no more use for me. At first I thought it was because I just went for whoever came my way (This is due to the fact that I’ve always figured that I’m unworthy of love, and should be grateful that anyone would waste time on me. I’m not completely over that mentality yet, but I’m much better than I was before). But then I started going after what I wanted. And it was the same thing all over again. I’ll find someone who I think is sweet, loving, honest, and genuinely beautiful both inside and outside. And I will love them with every fiber of my being, and do everything in my power to try and see that they know this, and are happy and taken care of. And, for a while, everything is great. But then, once it seems I’ve outlived my usefulness, the loving, caring person I thought I knew will start to show their true colors. Thing is though, I blame them for being fake, and changing (and in all honesty, they do. This is in no way me just being bitter for the sake of it), but the truth of it all is that there’s one common factor that plays into all of it: Me. Which makes me think that I’m the one that turns them into horrible, she-beasts who want nothing more than to see me hurt. And it also makes me think that maybe I deserve it. I mean, someone who deserved happiness wouldn’t have that kind of consecutive bad luck, would they?
5: Everyone I know has some sort of skill or talent, something to offer the world. Meanwhile, I have nothing. I’m gonna be 30 in less than 4 years. And I have absolutely nothing to show for all the time I’ve put into this life. No career, no degree, no house, no car (hell, I don’t even drive, and I never have), and no one to love, or to love me.
Yet, despite all of this, for some reason, people keep me around. And I can’t understand it. I fuck up so much, I drive people away, I try to help others when I have no business doing so. I mean, hell, I can’t even help myself, so what right do I have to give anybody else advice? None, that’s what. Honestly, when I think about it, I’m the worst kind of person there is. And not a day goes by when I don’t wake up in the morning and just wish I could close my eyes and fall back asleep again forever.

"Life, we have a new member joining us today..."

Some friends from work have invited me to join them in playing WarMachine on Thursdays and Sundays. For those of you who don't know (and I'm assuming that's most, if not all, of you), it's a tabletop battle game (and not Tony Stark's token black friend). 

This. This is what I could be doing with my life.

Now, I've never been a big fan of war (I mean, what is it good for?), or machines. And I'm not too keen on tables either, or tops for that matter. But, despite my aversions to all four of these things, I agreed to join them. Why? Chance to get out and be social, I suppose. I mean, not counting the two times I hung out with people down in Florida, I haven't actually interacted with people, outside of the internet, in almost 3 years now. And I feel that it's high time to hob-knob with people beyond a keyboard and a monitor...

...and it's fucking scary. See, I need a Battlebox (a glorified starter kit, sans the glory) in order to start playing the game, and I've been saying for the past two weeks that I'm gonna go get one. And I will. I think. Eventually. But, once I do, it means I'll have to start using it, and playing and hanging out with people on a regular basis. And that's become a foreign concept to me now. I've grown so accustomed to living life from my chair, that the idea of going somewhere to meet people, and just hang out, is strange and foreign to me now. And I don't like it. No, sir, not one bit.

And you wanna know what's really wack? I don't have this problem at all when I'm at work. So, why the anxiety about hanging out with these people outside of work? Is it the change of environment? Who knows. I sure as hell don't.

Oh well. One of these days I'll stop just saying that I'm gonna join them, and I really will join in the reindeer games.

...until my nose starts to glow, and they kick me to the curb.