A Formal List Of Complaints

Or, A Few Of My Pet Peeves:

1. People who wear sunglasses indoors. Particularly men. In general, it's kind've rude; to me, it's roughly equivalent to strenuously avoiding eye contact, or talking on your cell phone while I'm trying to take your order. This is something that really only bothers me at work, especially when creepy men stare at my tits behind their tinted shades.

2. Those annoying white college women who are so incredibly bubbly that they talk as if they were so far beyond stupid that they are actually retarded.

3. Children. Specifically, parents. No, your child is not cute or endearing to me. Your child needs a swift kick in the butt and you need to learn how to administer it.

4. Dog owners. Get over yourself! Your dog's a total asshole and so are you! Hey, your big, scary dog is barking really loudly and running toward me; please do not laugh and make it seem like he's just being a big sweetie, because he's not, he's actually scaring the shit out of me.

5. Evasive dudes who, for some reason completely unbeknownst to me, cannot simply up and tell you what's going on. For everybody who thinks men can't take hints, believe me, women can't either. Give it to me straight up, like whiskey and gin, motherfucker.

6. People who don't understand my aversion to beer. It tastes like piss! Worse than piss! Why do I need more justification??

7. TV!! Who gives a shit about these people? Most of the shows I see nowadays are either about people who are famous for no reason, or people who are completely unremarkable trying to make themselves famous through reality tv. What the FUCK. Nobody CARES about you, nobody gives a shit which bachelor you pick, they're all fucking idiots. Who are these people trying to be that they require an audience?

And if you're starting to wonder, yes, it's the moon cycle. I am full of anger and hatred and unreasonable rage.

Work Wok Werk

Mein Gott, last night there was a solid wall of people for almost three hours. Luckily the last hour or so was comparatively slow, so me and the other guy caught up with all our closing duties and what have you. He's pretty rad, keeps cool in a rush. I keep pretty cool I guess, except I have a tendency when I start doing about ten things at once and overlappingly to swear emphatically and long under my breath. Plus I find it difficult to be as friendly as usual with the customers, ESPECIALLY when they stand and take forever deciding while there are many others who need help right away. Please, if you're not sure yet, tell me it's okay to go and help someone else, or at least make a more sincere effort to hurry the fuck up.

Boy, people on yelp.com can be total assholes. I know a dentist who knows another dentist who's mixed up in a lawsuit because some fuckwad wrote a bad review and lied about shit that went down. A lot of people believed this loser, though most had probably no reason to, and backed him up. Similarly, people write bad reviews about us, and, though I believe they do usually tell the truth, what they say is incredibly one-sided. They come in one time, receive shitty service, and think it's the end of the world. Never mind that, should they come in again, OMIGOD, the people behind the counter are different! You can't judge a place's service based on ONE person who served you ONE TIME. Doesn't anyone remember doing science labs in high school? You have to do the experiment more than once to prove your hypothesis. Dummy.

Par example, mes amis, there's a little place near my work that serves Asian sweets and goodies. Their food is great, the place is cute, but every time I go there, I am treated with indifference that borders on scorn. I've been there enough times to realize this is a consistent thing, but not enough that you could say I'm into S/M and like being treated badly. Point being, I held off judging them too harshly until I went there enough to see the pattern. I'll still go there every once in a long while, though, because I do like their stuff. I'm not one of those people who lets bad service ruin every other good thing about a place.

I Got Smooth Liquidations

I am working on a fucking masterpiece. A couple, actually. Who's to say they'll ever be completed, but they sure add to the relatively sparse decor of my room. My gosh.

Some musicy people I've been gettin' down to recently:
Ty Segall (what a fucking dreamboat)
Betty Davis (hot black funkboat)
Lykke Li (one a' them europeans)
Cake (a resurgence)
The Doors (holy shit!)
Feist (cute)

What I've learned, however, is that The Shins are still my favorite band in the entire fucking world. They're what I listen to when I'm not in the mood to dance and I need to retreat into the log cabin by the serene lake of my soul, so to speak. I don't know why this is. A Zen thing or whatever, I guess.

One of the nicest things about tall guys is being hugged by them. They pretty much have to bend themselves in half to reach you, but in doing so they form this cocoon-like space that blocks out sight and sound. It's pretty rad, all in all. Being hugged by not-so-tall guys is pretty awesome too, but they can never be the chrysallis to the caterpillar-state of your mind. You know, when you feel ugly and unhappy and then BOOM a tall guy hugs you and you emerge as a slightly less unhappy-type butterfly-thing. Or something. Whatevs.

Looks like party season is coming up. Like, tonight. One tonight, one tomorrow night, one next weekend...it's time to pull out the nice clothes I never wear to work or school. But not the super nice clothes that I don't want to get beer or vomit on. Definitely not those. What happens is, I spend months gradually collecting pretty things that I figure I'll never wear, and then I usually don't, not even to parties and such, because they always seem too nice even for social outings. But this time I'm determined to look damn fine!

Check It

Before you wreck it. Word.



Jobs are fun.

Pizza Logic

For some reason, I always expect a slice of pizza to be around about two bucks. Three, at the most. I don't know what long-gone decade I inhabited in a past life, because a decent slice of pizza with enough stuff on it to fill me up can cost up to six, and it's hard to imagine when pizza slices were ever actually cheap. I kinda subconciously put it into the same category as hot dogs. Basic food one picks up on the go; depending on where each is obtained, it could satisfy a craving or give you food poisoning. BASIC! Shouldn't a slice be cheap? No? I can't even get a decent, non-food-poisony slice of cheese for under four bucks. Well, technically I can, but if I want anything else on it, I best be prepared to shell out some more dough. Totally not fair, pizza people, not at all.

Like, last night, I went with a couple friends to a nice place in the neighborhood. The slice I got had like, pesto, onion, some kind of meat, regular cheese, feta, everything. So. Good. Filled me up. Made me want a whole pizza of it. BUT. It was $6.00. What. Plus tip. What. When I compare that slice with a sandwich or a burrito or a salad or sushi or whatever, I think, yeah, that's not bad. But when I think of it in terms of my pizza logic, I'm like what.the.fuck. I just paid seven bucks for ONE slice of PIZZA!

Clearly this is a deep psychological issue for me. One that is making me hungry even as I recover from a big-ass bowl of spaghetti.

Being Really, Ridiculously Good-Looking Does Not Excuse Cheesy Eyeliner.

And I'm talking to you, Jared Leto, you sexy beast. You cheesy son of a bitch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENM1AS3p7As

By god, he was one hot boy in My So-Called Life. One of my roommates has gotten me into that; she also induced me to watch Se7en.

Brad Pitt, suddenly you appeal to me as you never have before.

Damn, what a chiseled face of a man. I think I'm falling prey to screen boys. Damn them and their perfect facial contours and perfect beautiful bodies and perfect lighting and makeup. Seriously, what's the deal? How does the world function? Like, for real?

Life Is Funny And Sad

Whoo, got some of my money back from da guv'm'nt. That was awfully decent of them, wasn't it?

Found out today one of the regulars at my work is named Adam. This may surprise some people, but I haven't actually known too many Adams in my lifetime. I've known of them, but never really spoken to any. This time it was pretty neat, since I've talked to him when he comes in and he's cool. But, thank god, neither of us tried to make a real joke about Adam and Eve. Hur hur hur. There have only been a few people who tried to make a joke like that at me, like, hey, where's Adam? hey, why'd you eat the apple? Etc.

The end of school be fast approaching, arrrgh. The one class I want to take in the summer is completely full, so I'll have to crash and squeeze my way in by assassinating a couple of other students (I just watched Kill Bill for the first time last night, so bear with me). One of my friends and coworkers was telling me how she couldn't get into any of the five classes she wanted for next fall, because they're all full. That's ridiculous, that people pay good money for college and they're not even gauranteed a spot in the classes they need or want. How's a woman supposed to get an education, huh?

If anyone's wondering, I finished that essay. I stopped stressing about a week before it was due. ya wut.

Oh, and Feist is sooooo good! (teen girl squad voice)