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iam314159
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Name: Caroline
Location: Texas, United States
Birthday: 8/30/1988
Gender: Female
Interests: LoZ, DDR, RO, anime, yaoi/shonen-ai, cosplay, art, loud music (techno, eurobeat, some trance, heavy metal), sleeping in, the Japanese language
Expertise: LoZ, cosplay, old school RO, DDR, bizarre aspects of Japanese culture, english spelling and grammar, anything Hitchhiker's Guide related, the menu where I work, random odd things that nobody would think to ask me but I would be glad to help with.
Occupation: Student, slave to Dairy Queen
Message: message me
AIM:  flashdragon02
Member Since:
7/22/2003
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| There are few words one can use to describe the feelings associated with Black Friday, the most loathsome of retail events. Going to work at 5:30 this morning was like something from a nightmare - I resentfully woke up after 3 hours of sleep and cursed Brian's name (that ugly bastard) for not hiring me at stupid Matthews Hall. I got dressed and bundled up, got into the car, and ventured onto the dark empty streets of south Denton. I wanted to avoid 288 just in case, so I took my usual Teasley/Shady Oaks route. There were people standing around in front of Best Buy since it had already opened, and a few people in front of Michaels' closed doors. I still consider that a victory.* I managed to get across the street and find a parking space in the middle of the lot, and walked toward the doors, cursing and mocking the people stupid enough to be out in the freezing weather at 5:43 am to partake of ritualistic consumerism. People were lined up outside from the front (right-most door) all the way around the side of the building. I got in the door with my Target card, and I clocked in and was put on a register - number thirteen. The whole time, the world didn't really look quite right. Everything was dark when I pulled in and got to work, and I could never really believe the time because I couldn't see the sun during the day. The real horror started, though, when they finally let the people into the store. A flood started that lasted for about twenty minutes, people running into the store and grabbing the carts lined up at the ready. There were twenty-four big-screen HDTVs, most of which were pounced upon in the first ten minutes. The store felt more full than usual, since there were so many more items stocked on the shelves and distributed throughout. The store was like a sandy beach, with the precise number of grains representing the well-stocked store with its many employees, but it was as if someone had dropped a ham sandwich upon it. Like ants, the people spread out throughout the store, consuming and consuming like their lives depended on it. Is it really that necessary to have stuff? The only thing I would actually have bought was the super-cute LoZ DS Lite, which was gold with a little triforce on the front and came with the newest game. Obviously, I don't even have enough to make rent this month, so super-cute DSes are out of the question, especially since I already have a DS that works. I did buy four pairs of gloves for under two dollars, one set for myself and one for Cat, since they match our Plusle and Minun outfits. I wanted to buy these really nice 1000 thread count sheets (20 dollars each) for my mom, but then realized that I'd want some too. Again, I don't have that kind of money.
I managed to score two meals - an enormous cheese danish for breakfast, and a roast beef sub, chips and a soda for lunch. I also helped myself to the large tub of holiday candies, filling my pockets so I could try every flavour (cherry cordial kisses?!) As I stood at my register helping customers, I was perky and awake, but as soon as I stepped three feet away from my register I yawned and became lethargic and bordering on delusional. I wanted nothing more than the power to transform - into a cat and sleep in the hanger box underneath my register. After lunch I felt better, but the whole day mashed together in a series of unrelated events. Sleep this morning blended with work blended with breaks blended with MEKsgiving blended with failed karaoke attempt blended with headlight adventures. The last four days or so have been an incoherent blur, probably caused by too little sleep. No amount of sleep seems to be enough, I could seriously sleep for days and not be bothered.
*A few weeks after I quit, I ran into one of my old coworkers at Target. He told me that the day before was his last day, and the day before that he told Vicky (the unpleasant manager) that the next would be his last day. Apparently two other people had just stopped showing up, and one other person quit during a shift, leaving Vicky to close by herself. HA HA! Fuck you, Michaels.
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| Alright. I realize that we are all poor, and I assume the stress of the semester is eating away at everyone, but seriously. This is no excuse to start being bitches to each other, and especially to me. I won't push back unless I am pushed hard first, but some people are just getting on my nerves.
I completely understand the urge to clean, when the house is insufferably filthy. If you live in a household with five other people that aren't neat freaks, you can expect the house to be a mess most of the time. We're in college, people will understand a messy house should they see it for some reason. If you aren't a neat freak, usually there's a breaking point at which you snap and HAVE to clean in order to stay sane. I understand that, and I was just about to reach it as well. However, there is no excuse to just choose the most accessible people in the house and chew them out for it. Leaving a note saying we shouldn't use public spaces if we don't clean up after ourselves would be fine, if we were the ones making the mess, and you were some saintly person who absolutely never put anything somewhere it didn't belong. This is most definitely not the case. I was not aware that a discussion about the filthiness of the living room was a direct order to clean it. I went in there to pick up anything that was mine, and guess what I found? THREE MAGAZINES, that I borrowed from someone. Guess where they were! Not on the floor, not strewn across the room, not piled with other junk in a chair. They were ON THE COFFEE TABLE, where magazines belong. I picked up everyone's dirty dishes (I'm not pointing fingers, they've probably been in there forever) and brought them to the sink when the dishes were being put in the dishwasher. Raymond picked up the trash that was lying around in the living room, even though none of it was his. Letting guests stay in that room is fine, but anyone that brings something in there should take it OUT, and not leave it around so I can get bitched at even though I haven't been in there in weeks.
The kitchen is another story. I cleaned the filthy stove, and wiped the grease and dust off the hood. I often look in the refrigerator and throw away old food that belongs to me. I don't throw away anybody else's food, in case they get mad when they discover it is missing. I point out to people when food is covered in mold, but usually it gets ignored. Everyone should be responsible for their own food shit. Leaving paper-wrapped meat in the fridge for weeks is unacceptable, disgusting, and a health hazard.
The things on the island I don't mess with because it usually is covered with other people's mail, kitchen appliances, and the vegetable basket. We don't use the kitchen table for eating, specifically, so it should not be a big deal when craft things are left there. Pick up your own shit, and remind people that they need to pick their stuff up. Not bitch at them after ignoring it for months, but remind them when you see something left behind.
I can sense that everyone is on edge because of money and classes, and I know that I know absolutely nothing about life, but christ. Sometimes it's depressing to walk into a grocery store and realize you can't afford healthy food like fruits and vegetables, so you walk straight to the cheap box macaroni and cheese. Sometimes I just want to drop down and cry. People are being rude for their own reasons, the house is messy, and my room is sometimes so messy that I trip over things, but I have nowhere to put all the crap that I collect. I wish I could throw stuff away but it's inevitably something devastatingly important that I have to keep for some reason or another. I hate eating things that aren't good for me, and I hate even more not being able to buy better food. People on welfare probably eat better than I do.
I have so many complaints and woes that I know people are going to get offended if I post them and someone manages to read them for some reason. I'll just stop. I've never been here before, and I don't know where to go. I just know I can't stop.
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| Fried tofu is a horrible non-food. Ech. It reminds me of really bad, dry scrambled eggs... once you actually manage to bite through its sponginess. I literally bit down four or five times and it sprang right back to its original shape. I had to cover it in some spicy beans I found in a pot on the stove before I could force myself to accept it as remotely edible. I'm not necessarily bashing tofu in general, it's just that this specific preparation is truly awful. I really should try harder to get actual food. I have plenty of soup in the pantry, I need to start eating that. And macaroni noodles, since I have plenty of those. I've just been feeling blah lately and haven't felt like actually finding decent food. It's either scrounge around to find something, or not eat at all. Lately I've been choosing the latter. It's not like I'm starving myself - I would eat if I really felt like it, and I have plenty of excess fat to burn off - I just don't feel like it.
I need to find a new job, again. I wish I could find one that paid decent money. I hate getting stuck with jobs that will soon pay below minimum wage.
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| I spent the other day looking and looking for my social security card, which I needed to be able to work. I told my mom I gave it back to her, and she checked several old school files of mine and insisted I still had it and that I hadn't given it back to her. I checked through my wallet twice, through two filing systems, and through various boxes in my room. Raymond slept the whole time because it was boring, and I was really pissed when I gave up and left later than I wanted to because I couldn't find it. I had to call my work and explain it to them, then go in yesterday and apply for a new card at the crowded SSA. I filled out the paperwork and got the receipt for the new one they're sending me in a week or so. I got back here, gave Vicky the paper, and when I got home just now, I checked my email. My mom found my SS card. IN HER WALLET. Isn't that the first goddamn place you'd check? I decided not to even send a reply, as it would likely make very little sense and be rather accusatory and scathing, full of comments like which I'll receive tenfold if I direct them at my mother, especially since I have to go back up there tonight for more doctor's appointments.
Work is kind of boring. It's much easier than Dairy Queen, and less fun, I think. Sure, there are fewer disgusting people, but there are a lot of middle aged to elderly women, and they can be quite rude sometimes. Also, children are disgusting. This little girl grabbed a truffle out of the basket on the counter and promptly began sucking on it. I pointed this out to her equally disgusting mother, who proceeded to replace the drenched, slimy chocolate back into the bin with the others. Later, I pulled it out of the bin and threw it away. One of the shift managers is kind of a douche. It's obvious that he doesn't like his job, yet he assumes that everyone that works at the store must know the same things he does, and anyone that doesn't is an idiot. I don't like calling him to ask a question, because he always makes it seem like I'm the biggest idiot ever for placing this burden of answering simple questions on him. It's like he's incapable of cheerfully helping someone. For example, on my third day I asked him about the task list that we get every day, and since I've never worked at Michaels or any other job requiring individual task lists, I didn't know what I was supposed to do with it. He acted like I was a dumbass for not knowing to check off the tasks I'd done throughout the day, and figure out what I'm supposed to write about the customers. Excuse me for wanting to do my job right and not fuck it up royally.
The only interesting thing to do at work is talk to Amy or Jessica, and even then they're doing work in the store a lot of the time. I also like drumming my fingernails on the counter to punctuate cash register actions (it almost makes me want to go get ridiculously long acrylic nails just so I can click them loudly) and putting random items in my hair (flowers, leaves, feathers...).
Also, I will not be surprised in the least if United Fellas is a Hip-Hop/R&B group, given the musical experience of the individual musicians. A lot of them hail from the R&B group Chemistry, one is from rap/hip-hop group Shakkazombie, and their vocalist, Kitaki Mayu, has a video that looks like she was singing not-so-great karaoke (Do You Remember Me) on JTV's Music Channel. I guess I'll give them a listen, but I really, really don't like R&B. Unexciting music makes for annoyance on my part. I don't think the majority of anime fans listens to that style of music, though I could be wrong. I think it would be funny if they got an Enka singer to confuse the shit out of people. Or Gackt. Fangirls would shit themselves.
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| My brother is the winrar. Our dentist has video games in the waiting area, and one of them we played all the time was Cadash, an old (early 90's) RPG by Taito. This time it wasn't there, though it had been replaced by Cruisin' World, which is an amusing game in and of itself. My brother asked what they did with the other game, and the dentist said they had it in the back because they were "upgrading" their games. He said he tried to trade it in, but the guy only offered him $50 for it, and asked if Dylan wanted it. He was serious, and now we have a 6' tall arcade cabinet in our front room. Approximately $13 fell out of it (in quarters, nickels, and a game token), which Dylan is going to apply towards the purchase of Guitar Hero 3.
I'm kind of excited for AF. I have to find a nice burgundy fabric, and fast. Also, I need to liberate $6 worth of insulation foam from my dad's garage for use in my newest costume. And... make some new boots. Yes.
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