Blah Blah Blah Blog

Last night at work...

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 14:50:13 GMT

I was really ticked off. It was one thing after another, and none of it the fault of any bass ackward customers, though there were a few who really needed a time out. No, once again it was my micromanaging manager, and she wasn't even in yesterday. She insists upon checking in the new signs when we receive them, but of course, this week she did not. So while I was running around trying to find a sign for a sale on bags and wondering where she'd hid it this time (just as last time she whipped it out of thin air a day later), it was still sitting in the box it came in. I even left her a note that I needed the stupid sign since I left before she came in, and the note disappeared without a sign surfacing. So when I got in last night, I caught grief from everyone because 1) no one knew where the display was, though I told one of the managers exactly where it was the previous day and told him I needed a sign, and 2) it was a sale that started yesterday morning, and so there were a few customers who were antsy about it before I arrived. Then the same manager who I had told about the bag display, decided to take down a sign on another sale display because the sale was not ringing up at the register, despite the fact that the sale was not supposed to end until the end of the day. Of course, he did not replace it with anything, and all displays are supposed to have a sign. So I was running around looking for the sign he removed and finally gave up. Wouldn't you know it, I found it as soon as I replaced it with something else. Now I have a problem with electrical devices. When I get upset, they stop working right. It must have something to do with my unusually strong energy field. I can't wear any metals because they give me a rash, but when I was a kid, I would wear those cheap plastic watches and the batteries never ran down. I remember I had a watch for about seven years and I never once had to change the battery. I only threw it out after the band broke. I worked at a bank for three years, and in the last and worst year of working there, I killed two computers, two printers, a phone, and the entire intercom system in the drivethru. The drivethru was down for three months.... pantomime is fun. heh So last night, after about an hour of frustration, I apparently broke our connection with home office. We could still search our own inventory, but that was it. The customers couldn't search the Borderstore system at all, we couldn't get onto the booksinprint site, and we couldn't even get our emails. One of my coworkers didn't believe it was me until I showed him my walkietalkie which was flashing through the channels like it was possessed. I could still hear requests for assistance, but the channel indicator was completely spastic. It would have been funny if it wasn't so annoying. All of it was annoying. I wish my GM would do something about my idiot supervisor. Everyone knows she's having an affair with one of our coworkers, and she never completes anything. She starts something and then just leaves clean up for everyone else. I wish she would just get a hint from the way everyone acts around her and go somewhere else. She's such an arrogant, officious little pissant. The woman needs a reality check. She acts like the sun won't shine unless she tells it to.

This will explain a lot...

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 02:46:04 GMT

The past is a crutch, too often blamed for the misdeeds of the day, the misbegotten child of current regrets - a stigmata revealed, reveled in, glorified and bemoaned. I am more than the sum of my broken parts, a being of infinite jest and suggestion, swaddled and tangled in traps of the past, deformed and diseased with childhood memes, using the limitations set upon me to dream, to grow, to overcome. No longer bound to the mold, but free. And it lies there... broken... instead. There are so many ways my family has influenced my life. I told a coworker something of my childhood the other day and his response was something like, "Wow, I used to think you were just insane, but now I realize you're pretty well adjusted." So many people use their past as an excuse to act like monsters. When someone becomes a serial killer for instance, the first thing society does is look at their childhood with a feeling of, ah Ha! If nothing immediate jumps out as a cause for their actions, society feels there must be some hidden horror that has yet to come to light. No... don't do that. The past is an excuse, not a cause. We all have it within ourselves to overcome our past. I could be so much worse than I am. But I know who I am, and I accept who I am. I know I have bad habits, but I also know that I am a better person than someone else might have been in the same situations. The first two and a half years of my life, my father often beat my mother... once breaking her nose while she was pregnant with my sister by repeatedly hitting her in the face while he was driving. He didn't even show up for my birth (or to take my mother to the hospital) because he was celebrating his birthday in a bar. He was a selfish man and the center of his own universe. Nothing anyone ever did for him was enough to satisfy him. When he was a baby, his mother ran off with a door to door salesman and his father, a bouncer and a truck driver, died when he was very young. His grandmother raised him. He never had a good thing to say about her or "Uncle" Freddie, her boyfriend, though they both doted on him and bent over backwards to provide for him. They gave him everything and it was never enough. Was it the loss of his parents at such a young age that made my father a monster? Or was it that my Nana and uncle Freddie gave him so much that he never learned to provide for his own happiness. They say that those experiences which break some people will empower others. My sister has always felt the lack of a father. My mother left our father when my sister was still a baby. When she was born, she got pneumonia and almost died. My father was again in a bar when my sister went into convulsions. My mother later abandoned us with our grandmothers while she went on a soul searching mission across America. In the meantime, our father came for us, but he didn't want us. We were left to social services. My sister was too young to remember, and I have no memories of that time either, but I was told that I was abused... that the family taking care of us tried to make me go to Church and pulled out a hunk of my hair when I resisted. This may partially explain why I am so sensitive about who touches me, especially my hair. When my sister got pregnant, she chose to stay with the father of her baby solely because he was the father. She did this because of her own yearnings for a father figure and did not want to neglect the needs of her child as she felt she had been neglected. If only fathering a child was enough to make a man a father. He was no more worthy of being a father than our own father had been. But we couldn't tell my sister that, she had to discover it on her own. Thankfully she is no longer with him, though she tolerates him for the sake of support payments and the supposed needs of her child. I think it is really only for the sake of the money that she tolerates him at all any more. What affect has my childhood had on me...? I am emotionally stronger, but psychologically more brittle, than many people I meet. I am broken and still pasting the pieces back together as I find them. I cannot regret my past because it has shaped who I am (and despite many problems, I like who I am), but I cannot say whether I would be a better person if my childhood had been different. There is so much that happened to me when I was a child, my family cannot be blamed for it all. But I have become the family observer. I watch them, and people in general, because my past has made me watchful and suspicious. I do not trust that people who say they love me are telling the truth, and even when I am sure they love me, I still cannot trust that they will not see to their own wants before my needs. I am an emotional invalid, subsisting on a diet of sublimated yearnings. I don't reach out to people, and I don't reveal my needs for fear that they will be turned against me. No one knows me. I am not the person you think I am, or that my family thinks I am, or that my coworkers think I am. To everyone I am a different person, reflecting what they expect. I deserve an Oscar. Because I am never myself with anyone, at any point, I may become disgusted with current friends or family and shut them out completely when they take too much advantage, when they sit and complain for days, months, or years about their lives, but never once ask how I am. I shut out my father when I was twenty-three, and he forgot my birthday yet again (our birthdays were less than a week apart. In my entire life, I think he remembered my birthday twice.) People may take what I offer for months or years and and never stop to think about my needs, never offer anything, until one day I just snap and cut them out completely. This may also be why I do not stay very long at most jobs. (I have been at my current job almost four years, which is about as long as I usually last.) I could never tell anyone what it is they are denying me without breaking down completely into a bawling mess. And let me tell you, that does not happen often. The last time would have been almost a decade ago. I do not like to let the mask crack. It's too much effort to repair it once it does. This is the legacy my family has left me. I am so afraid of being abandoned entirely if I ask for anything for myself, that I end up denying myself everything everyone else takes for granted, until one day it just becomes too stressful, and I break ties at a moment's notice with people who often don't know what they've done. Childhood friends who never realized they took me for granted years ago before we moved away make overtures now when we chance to meet again after decades apart, and I pretend again that I believe they are sincere, take their numbers, and never call. If perchance, I ever moved away from my family, it would be the same. Slowly, communications would taper off and eventually, it would be months between contact. I would be that stereotypical single woman who's mother would complain that I never write or call. My sister calls and has contact with my mother nearly every day, but it is always because she needs something... money, a babysitter, time.... I could never be so needy, and so I would just stop. I wouldn't ask, and I wouldn't take.... and if something was offered, it would be very difficult for me to accept. But I doubt anything would be offered... my sister's wants and needs were always more important than mine. She almost died after all. My sister is every bit our father's daughter. I try to tell my mother how my sister really is, but she just ignores me. The boundaries of neglect bequeathed to me by my family have become reinforced by my own fear of rejection and abuse. What once was neglect has become isolation. I am truly alone in the world, but loneliness holds more security for me than companionship. "How has your family influenced your life" was a featured question at Xanga where I do most of my blogging. Figured I'd post it here too...

Common Courtesy? Sense? Nah....

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Sun, 29 Jul 2007 20:39:51 GMT

Sigh.... I had the most awful customers last night. Our coupons clearly state that you can use one per customer per valid period. They wanted to use four, so the husband, wife, and their little kids (maybe 9 and 7) were all making separate purchases but using the same rewards card and the same credit card. It was really quite disgusting. When I told them they could only use one, they said I was discriminating against the children. Actually I feel bad for the kids since not only did their parents make a scene, but that's a heck of a way to use your kids to save a buck. That's the kind of attitude that continues to beleaguer our welfare system. See now, I technically don't mind people trying to save money. I am a very frugal person myself. But there is a right and wrong way to do it, and technically that family was stealing. So it's a few bucks; it's also against policy, and I am sick of people breaking rules and no one being able to say anything because it's not good customer service to tell a customer that they're an a$$. What I really wanted to say to those people is that they were setting such a wonderful example for their kids (insert sarcasm). But what I did was say, "Fine, but you can't use your rewards card since that tracks your coupon use." This was one of those rare coupons that didn't require the Rewards card to validate it." So they didn't get credit for the sale(s), and it won't contribute to their "Borders Bucks." So who's the winner? I don't know. I'm just tired of people breaking rules. Bending is okay with me. For instance, if you shopped in the store the previous week, chances are the register spat out a coupon for the next week. If you belong to the Rewards program, you'll likely receive a similar coupon via email. See you can use both in the store because they have different coupon numbers. We're okay with that. Those really are two different coupons. But this printing multiple copies of the same coupon is just wrong. We've told people again and again that we won't do it, but they don't care. It's their god-given right to gouge the store. It's just not right. How about a little respect for the sales person here? We treat you nicely, common courtesy demands you respond accordingly. There's no common courtesy any more, and no common sense. Most of my coworkers will work with people to save money. We'll tell you about sales that include the book you're interested in or the same book in the bargain area, we'll tell you about upcoming sales, we'll try to accommodate reasonable coupon use. But it's people like that family that ruin it for everyone. They're the kind of people who cause the end of discount programs and cause lesser businesses to close up shop. They're selfish. I hate selfishness as much as I hate ignorance, so when people combine the two and then add mulish determination, they make me sick, especially when they drag their innocent kids into it. Bet they voted for GW too.... I just wish I could tell the bad customers that they're bad. If I ever get to open my own bookstore, I am not going to let people walk all over me like I am commanded to do now. If a bad customer comes into the store, that's the last time they'll do it, because I'll tell them point blank that I am not going to tolerate abuse of myself or my employees. They can apologize, or they can leave and not return. Behavior like this continues and increases because we are not allowed to sanction it when it happens. At least the customer after them was understanding and disapproving of the parents as well. That's always nice. I just wish customers that agreed with the salesperson about bad behavior would stand up to the bully customers causing the problem. I can't say anything in my subservient position, but another person on the same societal rung is more likely to get through to them. At the very least, the bully will be embarrassed enough to reign themselves in in the future. You just don't treat people like this. This is why I think everyone fresh out of school should be required to do at least six months community service in a service industry.... just so they know what it's like. People are so inconsiderate these days. I work in a bookstore because I love books. I'm sure I could make more money elsewhere, but it wouldn't be doing something I like. So I take less pay in order to work in a field I enjoy. That doesn't mean I should have to stand there and be abused by ignorant, selfish warts on the face of society. It's time they were removed by a cauterizing dose of peer pressure.

The Dirt on Harry and no spoilers (because I've got skill)

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 23:58:21 GMT

So, without spilling the beans, I've got a few words to say about Harry Potter's final book. I've just finished it, and there's some things that need to be said. First of all, this is not a children's book. Which is fine, I'm not a child, but there are children, some of them quite young, who are going to read this book, and they shouldn't, not yet. I mean, I learned to read on the Hobbit, and I'm quite warped. Some of the images in the Deathly Hallows are just not suitable for children of a young age. Some of the things in the Deathly Hallows aren't even suitable for young, "young adults." This is definitely a book belonging at the higher end of the young adult scale, if not in the adult books entirely. As little as I like to quanitify the correct age-range of a book, feeling that children should never be limited by a book's level, if the Deathly Hallows were a movie (and it will be eventually), I'd give it an R rating. There's no nudity or sex, and only one bad word toward the end, but with the amount of death and torture depicted in the book, it might as well be a fantasy version of Hostel. Again, I like horror... I collect horror, but that only makes me better able to judge (I think) what is and is not suitable for children. My second criticism is that there were parts of the book that seemed rushed or glossed over. Some of them are explained later, but parts just seemed awkward. I can't be more specific than that without giving away spoilers, and as a booklover, I'd never do that to others. When you've read it, you can agree with me or not. I don't mind either way. My third criticism, and it's a bit petty, is a very serious typo near the end of the book. I won't get into the story, but it's just an unforgivable typo that should have been discovered and corrected. It's not a mispelling or bad grammar. It's a completely incorrect word (brother instead of sister). Things like that just irk me. It's a pet peeve, especially when the word is correct in every way except for the fact that it is entirely the wrong word. Oh and fourth, and this is neglible.... Snape really deserved better. I was correct in almost all my theories for the direction the story would take. Kudos for me.

Harry Potter Night of Doooooooooom!

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 04:32:08 GMT

OK, so it wasn't that bad, but boring, yes, tedious, yes, nerve racking, oh definitely. I used to be agoraphobic when I was younger, so when I say that there were approximately 2000 people in the store last night (this morning?), you know it was not a happy fact for me, especially since I had to be back at work by noon. It's not that I don't like people. I just don't like to share space with more strangers than I can easily count or avoid. For the most part though, people were nice and patient. For the most part.... Then there was the guy who came in early on and wasn't buying anything Potter-related. When he got up to the register, he decided he did not want a particular book he had chosen. Instead of giving it to me and saying he didn't want it, he shadily tucked it in the magazine rack that sits in front of the registers. Since we all know what assuming does, I asked him if he didn't want the book. Of course, his answer was no. So I asked him if he could give me the book, to which he replied, "No manners on Harry Potter night, huh?" Ummm.... . But his was just the typical rudeness one might encounter on any given day. I pretty much ignored his ignorance, thanked him, and told him to have a nice night. I've encountered his sort before. If not for people like him, keeping the store clean would be a lot easier. It's people like him who not only leave cups and whatnot on the bookshelves when they're done with them, they go the extra mile to hide their leavings behind books so it takes a couple days for the smell to alert us to their little gift. Night, night Mr. Inconsiderate. Customer #2 appeared around 10pm or so. Her beef was the line she'd had to wait in that morning in order to get a ticket to get in line to buy Harry Potter that night. We opened at 9AM (as we do every day) and allowed people to show up earlier in the day to collect a numbered wristband so that it would be easier to assemble them at midnight to collect their reserved book(s). Her complaint was that the line that morning had not moved fast enough, that she had been late for work because of it and that other customers had as well. What if she lost her job because she had to be at our store to get a good number. How rude of us to inconvenience her by offering her a convenience! Far be it for me to assume that people will choose their jobs over picking up a stupid numbered wristband. I just smiled (well not really, but I'm good at looking grave and concerned), nodded, and agreed it was a crying shame what she'd been through. Honestly, if people are stupid enough to make themselves late for work to pick up a wristband to collect a book that they could just as easily collect the next day for the same price (without having to wait in a line until nearly 3AM), then I kind of think they deserve to lose their jobs. I really had no sympathy for this woman, but I couldn't very well tell her she was an idiot. Smile and nod.... smile and nod... and hope the Ignorant-gene doesn't breed true.... But the real gem was the final problem customer. At around 11:45, she came up to the register to complain because they had shut down the "sorting-hat" event to begin lining people up to get their books. I was a bit sympathetic since it's not fun to stand in line for a long time and then not get what you waited for, but she was completely out of control. She claimed her kids were very upset, but they looked pretty calm to me... probably used to having a primadonna-mommy. Maybe they should share with her their illicit stash of valium. I explained that we really didn't have enough employees in the store to run all the events and get people out of the store with their books in a reasonable amount of time. Not what she wanted to hear, but eventually she went away.... only to return about five minutes later to whine that she had not known she needed to get a wristband to get in line for her book (even though she would have had to pass the table distributing the wristbands to get into the store). For the next five minutes, she griped at me about how badly we were running the event and that she should be able to get her book ASAP, without wristband. Basically she wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, enjoying the sound of her own voice much more than my reasonable response . After saying ma'am about a dozen times, trying to get her to let me speak, I said ma'am very loudly and she said, "Don't you raise your voice to me!" Hah! Well it was the only way to get her to notice I was still there, but another half-dozen ma'am's later, I finally inserted, "You won't listen to what I'm saying." To which she replied, "Well, you're not saying anything." To which I replied, "Because you won't stop talking!" Gleeee! I had finally lost my temper. Why is it that keeping your temper is never as satisfying as losing it? It just feels so good to say what's really on the tip of your tongue. Oh yeah... I have little tact when it comes to letting people know they've ticked me off, but I do have a certain flair for irony. Least she shut up long enough for me to tell her that I had no power to give in to her demands as I was only a supervisor, and she would need to speak to a manager. Then I directed her to one of my managers, knowing full well that he would not give in to her either! hahahahaha She left. Too bad, so sad. She had expended all of my sympathy with her unreasonable tirade. Of the three, I'd had the most sympathy for her in the beginning, and she totally took it too far. Where's Cthulhu when you really need him? Beyond that, the night went fairly quick. I am overjoyed that there will be no more Potter books. Honestly I can't stand these events. A country fair is about as crowded as I care for, and even that I can do without. I don't even like to go to amusement parks, and I've never been to a concert. When I go to movie theaters, I sit at the very back of the theater to avoid the crowds and if I don't get up in time to bolt as the credits begin their run, I wait until I don't have to mingle with my fellow movie goers. If anyone ever yelled FIRE! I'd have to patiently wait while everyone went crazy trying to get out, then pick my way over their frenzied, unconscious bodies. This all goes back to junior highschool when I was "lynched" by some of my fellow students. Yeah, so it didn't end in a hanging, but they still followed me for about three blocks, spitting on me and throwing garbage at me while calling me names. Which harkened back to and dredged up memories of a past life where something similar happened to me and where I was ultimately burned alive. So I think it's understandable that I should be just a little leery of crowds and hope to avoid them when I can. I just don't understand what makes a couple thousand people want to congregate in an enclosed space with complete strangers... to be jostled and rubbed against... to suffer the smells of their unwashed neighbors... the noise alone is enough to make me want to run out of the store and find a tree to cower beside. (Trees are a very calming influence for me, plants in general help me immensely, but I would be lost without trees. If you really want to understand what I'm talking about, look up a book called, The Secret Life of Plants.) Such noise does not belong in a bookstore. Bookstores are quiet places far removed from booming music, the gabble of mobs, and the smell of the unwashed. I may not have to fight the urge to curl up in a fetal ball in some dark corner so much any more, but any time I'm surrounded by the crush and bustle of overly excited strangers, there's a little part of me that just sits in my brain and shreiks non-stop till it's over. So if humanity is technically a herd animal, I am doubly a freak for loathing the herding instinct and the herd itself. I don't want to mingle with the masses. I am so much more content to savor the words of humanity and discard the gross physical interactions of my peers. I don't want to socialize with people so much as I want to play with words and savor them and share them with people who love words as well. I love books for this reason... books and music are really the best humanity has to offer. Why then do people choose to congregate at inconsequential and superficial "events" like Harry Potter night? I don't know. I don't understand. I'm a people watcher. I understand the individual. I didn't learn psychology in college so much as I memorized terms for things I already knew. Sociology was a whole different ball game however. I'll never understand group dynamics and what motivates people to be a mob. I'd rather socialize with a small forrest than the same number of my own kind.

A Little Spellwork @ Work

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 18:52:56 GMT

When I first started working at Borders, there was a certain unpleasant person who made life miserable for everyone. She was thoroughly disagreeable, and even on a good day, no one wanted anything to do with her. What made it worse was that she was a supervisor. She was not shy about dressing people down when they did something she didn't like. And there wasn't much she did like. I really didn't have to deal with her much until I became a supervisor. Prior to my promotion to supervisor status, I worked nights and she worked mornings, so there was no confrontation. Unfortunately, once I became a supervisor, I had to work with her at least two times a week. And I cringed everytime she opened her mouth. She didn't have much criticism for me, but she loved to gossip and grouse about everyone else. What made it worse was, she seemed to consider me an ally or friend of some kind and really I just wished she'd shut up. She thought I thought she was funny because everytime she said something cutting, I'd laugh, nervously. One day, she just pushed me too far. I don't even remember what exactly she did, but one too many people came and cried on my shoulder about her and I just snapped. While no one was in the office, I made a sigil which basically said "Go Away _Name_" and to really show I meant business, I jabbed a pin in my finger and smeared the little charm with my own blood to symbolize what a pain she was. Then I taped it to the bottom of her trashcan. Where before, she would almost "hang out" at her desk, the charm ensured that she spent a lot less time making people unhappy if they became "trapped" in the office/breakroom with her. So.... one, then two weeks went by, and she actually seemed more relaxed and calm. She confided in me one morning that she'd had two different job offers in two different states, half way across the country. Nice. It wasn't exactly what I'd put in the charm, but as for "going away," I wasn't displeased. I knew she was unhappy in her job anyway, so I wished her luck on that account. So the third week rolled around. I came in to work one day, and she had just up and quit! Seems she got a job offer she couldn't refuse. She didn't give notice... very unprofessional of a person who was constantly harping on the subject of professionalism. She just came in after a sick day and said, bye! Picked up her check and left. So my charm worked better than I expected. I removed it a few days later. No sense leaving it where someone might find it and get the wrong idea. I did confide in a few trusted coworkers though. (One of my fellow coworkers said he wasn't sure if he should be impressed or scared.) Now they're bugging me to get rid of other problem coworkers, two of them specifically. One of them is a thoroughly arrogant and officious little twerp who seems to think he's hot $h17. No one likes him and he treats everyone like they're beneath him, depsite the fact that he's pretty much one of the most ignorant people I've ever had to work with. He disappears from where he's stationed, and no one sees him for half an hour or more. The other night one of my corworkers called him to help put away books, and he claimed to be back in the kid's section, helping a customer, despite the fact that the coworker who called for him could see him in the periodicals, reading a magazine, and told him so over the headset. He's like the epitome of JERK. No one likes him, period. The other coworker is one of my supervisors. She's also quite arrogant, but not quite so ignorant as coworker #1. We have no evidence of it, but everyone in the store thinks she's having an affair with another coworker, just from their body language alone. That's actually grounds for dismissal for both of them (he's no cake wake either, but bearable), if we could prove it. Which we can't. And there's other problems with her about which I won't go into detail. But I don't know that I should actually do anything about these other coworkers. Neither one of them has another job to go to, though I think coworker #1 is looking. I suppose I could make a charm to help him out there and hope it would take him out of the picture. Coworker #2 though, I don't know that it would be ethical to get rid of her, as I don't believe she's looking for another job and actually likes her job very much (much to everyone else's dismay). Besides that, the problem with her is more personal than storewide. She bugs me more than anyone, and there are some people who even like her. And what if I did got rid of her, and we got someone worse? I mean, I don't want her job, so someone would have to replace her. I'm not even sure what she does aside from micro-manage me. Honestly sometimes it seems like she wants my job, and she's actually a rung higher than me on the managerial ladder. So any advice from my witchy peers? And none of the Rule of Three garbage, please. So far as I'm concerned I helped everyone by getting rid of the first bad egg, including her. If I helped coworker #1 get another job too, that would also be helping (especially if he left us). Getting rid my micro-managing manager though... I don't know that it would be ethical, since it wouldn't specifically benefit the group so much as it would just be a load off of my back.

Common sense and common courtesy... gone the way of the dodo

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Wed, 04 Jul 2007 23:12:09 GMT

This is just a general rant. No one thing has set me off. I've been pondering this for over a month now. I just don't understand... Was I raised better than everyone else? I always thought I was pretty neglected as a child, that I pretty much raised myself by being such an unrepentant bibliophile, but lately I wonder if it just boils down to my being more observant than the average bear. And by bear, I really do mean a Bear, since some of my fellow humans don't have the intelligence granted our distant ursine cousins. I don't know if this is an American thing, having never been out of the country, but it's no wonder most of the other countries hate us. People used to say I was antisocial when I was a kid, but Americans.... we're an ignorant and rude lot. I mean, what is so hard about using a turn signal for goodness sake? Or holding a door for someone when you see them coming? Or EVEN saying thank you when someone takes the time to hold the door for you? Does it take so much effort to smile and thank someone for an unasked for kindness? Does it take a rocket scientist to see that when a worker's arms are full, they're going to have to put down everything before they can possibly look something up on a computer? I can't tell you how many times people have come up to me at work and asked me where to find something without even saying hi or realizing that I don't have a computer implanted in my brain. I mean, I'm good, but not that good. Obviously I'm going to have to look some of the more obscure titles up (if they don't just ask me for a book they heard about on tv... they don't know the title or author but they *think* the cover was blue). Forget about common sense. Most of the people I deal with on a daily basis wouldn't have the sense to come in out of a meteor shower. Is it just a matter of group dynamics? Is it that I deal with so many people every day that the average IQ suffers for it? Why do people come to the Info desk and try to pay for their books when in order to get to the Info desk, they would have had to walk in a direction that gave them an unobstructed view of the Registers at the front of the store? And why do people ignore the fact that I am already helping someone by practically inserting themselves between me and the person I am already helping? These are just examples, and I'm sure other people can give more of the same. But I just don't understand it. Is this the way people are being raised these days? I always heard that common sense wasn't so common, but common courtesy should be a law. Ignorance is an accident that can be fixed, but rudeness is unforgivable. Maybe I just have an antiquated sense of honor, maybe I just expect too much, but the golden rule is: Do unto others as you wish them to do unto you. And apparently most people would like me to treat them like scum, because that's how they treat me and everyone else.

Hey Buddy... Get a Life

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Mon, 13 Nov 2006 19:09:32 GMT

Am I so sweet... succulent meat, a savory treat, you'd like to eat? I can't stand gyus who give me the eye. Grow up, grow a spine Better yet, grow a mind. Is it safe to stare? Is nothing upstairs? Your problem not mine; I get along just fine. It's obvious we have nothing to discuss But go on and give it a try if you must. And who am I to tell you where to look... Just please understand, I'd rather read a book. Your body language is immediate And your conversation is tedious So don't assume, if you're in the room, if you're into me, I'm into you too.

My Brother, the Drama Queen

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Fri, 06 Oct 2006 04:05:04 GMT

It's been a rough couple of days for me, so I apologize if I've been missed at all. My brother had one of his little temper tantrums and cut his arm all up on Monday. The reason? Well, that's complicated. He's been living on our couch for about a year now. He was working at Target, and up until I got promoted at work, he was making more money than me. That's not to say a lot, but enough to get off our sofa. His behavior had been deteriorating for over a month, culminating in his getting fired from Target. He said it was because he had walked out of work three weeks earlier rather than put up with a supervisor who was getting in his face. My brother being one of those people who never likes to admit his fault, who can say if his story was true. But waiting to fire someone for three weeks is one of the weirdest things I've ever heard. In any event, he'd been perched on our couch for the past week and a half, not going out, doing nothing but playing video games till the small hours of the night, then getting up around noon. He actually bought a new game system after losing his job, emptying his bank account completely. It's not easy having someone sleep in your living room, creeping around to keep from waking a person who tends to throw things when he's been woken up prematurely. Forget about cleaning anything on the first floor and forget about vaccuuming anywhere in the house before the vampire has risen. My mother's BF owns our house. I pay half the mortgage for my room. That is to say, I contribute. I buy my own groceries and cook most of the meals for the family, and I clean up after myself. My brother, when he was working, grudgingly gave over $200 a month and never did a thing around the house unless someone told him to. Of course, telling him to bathe never accomplished anything. That might have been the real reason they fired his butt at Target. So Monday, my mother's BF, who has no had no place to go but their bedroom since my brother lost his job and began occupying the living room 24/7, got up early for work and went to sit in the kitchen and quietly read for a little while. He usually leaves the house around 4:30 AM, so this was around 3. My brother must have just been going to bed around that time, so apparently the mere creaking of the kitchen chair was keeping him awake. He called for my mom and when she tried to reason with him, he took a box cutter and sliced his arm all to heck. (Must have been pretty bad because he still wasn't playing video games three days later.) So... Wednesday, my mom and her BF decided my brother must go. If my brother did not go, my mom's BF would go. They'd been locking their bedroom door ever since my brother cut himself up in fear that he would come up while they slept and kill them. I have to admit that I had my door locked nights as well. Being an empath, I was picking up his anger, my mother's frustration, and I actually shared one of her BF's anxiety attacks. Woke me up. At the time I thought it was her. Let me tell you, it's not easy being a psychic sponge in a household of whackjobs, especially when you're sleeping! So we threw my brother out yesterday and haven't heard from him since. We changed the locks the same day. My mother is afraid he'll kill himself, I and her BF are more afraid he'll come back and do something awful. This ranges from me thinking he might do something to the dog since she's left out for hours on end, to thoughts of him returning to burn down the house (am I being shallow for fearing he might damage my book collection?). It goes without saying that we're all very stressed. At least my mom's BF is eating and sleeping again. I'm afraid my brother might show up at my job. I think we're all a little afraid to leave the house empty for any extended period of time. My mom's BF hasn't been to work all week. He went to the doctor today. We've left messages on his phone saying we'll pay for a room, but he just can't stay here any more. I think that allowing him to sponge off us is enabling his parasitic nature, that being out on his own will motivate him to start taking care of himself. I think we did the right thing, even if he is family, he needs to start taking responsibility for himself and his actions. I know we all feel really rotten about it, but sympathy and compassion are one thing and allowing a relative to victimize you out of misplaced pity is quite another. Right?

Irony Strikes

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Tue, 18 Jul 2006 20:08:25 GMT

Well, a day after I posted about the lack of info on my promotion, they finally let me know and I've been busy ever since. This is my first day off and boy, do my feet hurt! I'll be getting a very good raise, but I won't say how much since you never know who's reading these things. But it's good. I'm happy with it. It's more than I've ever made anywhere else. I'm torn between paying off bills and saving money to move out, but I will probably pay up the bills and live at home a while longer. I already pay extra (if only by rounding up to the nearest $10) on all bills that carry a balance, but with this raise, I'm hoping to round up to maybe the nearest $50. I think I can afford that while still paying rent to my mom. Between this raise and the fact that I just dropped Geico as my car insurance for MetLife Auto (I'm paying less than half of what Geico wanted, blood sucking gekos!), I think my finances are about to take a turn for the better Very soon. Someone quick! Knock on wood! Points to anyone who knows how the whole knocking on wood thing started. ;-)

I'm all grow'd up, kinda

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Fri, 14 Jul 2006 16:20:44 GMT

A month ago, a supervisory position opened up at work. So I applied for it. Am I not dependable and hard working? Am I not an extremely valued employee (despite my... unusual social skills)? I did not expect anyone else to apply for it, and it seemed like a position that they would want to fill ASAP. But it took them two weeks to tell me someone else got the job. Fortunately it was another supervisor who made a lateral move. So his position opened up. It was not as appealing to me, but I applied for it. Another two weeks went by before they finally let me know I'd gotten it. Well, what a relief! But thus far, they haven't told me anything more! It's driving me nuts, all this waiting to find out if I'd even managed to move up in the company (this is the first time I've even tried to get a supervisory position of any type), and now waiting to get trained. Granted, the cafe was just remodeled so there's a lot of stress over its reopening and our district manager and district merchandising manager just visited yesterday, so there was store-wide stress over that, but I can't take much more of this anxiety. The weeks I waited to find out whether I'd gotten one or the other of the positions I had a massive outbreak of pimples. The day after they finally told me I'd got the position (Tuesday), it was as if they disappeared over night. But I'm still stressed because I know next to nothing about what I'll be doing. Heck, I don't even know how much of a raise I'm getting. I'm hoping it'll be a dollar or more. I'm fairly certain I'll be getting more hours (which even without a raise is much appreciated). I'm just so frustrated with the speed at which everything is occuring. I try to be a patient person and let things come as they will. For the most part, that works to my advantage. But I have to wonder how much I internalize things. Last night I had a massive migraine and it's still with me now, though not as bad. I am almost certain it is from the stress. I hope they tell me something today. I'd hate to see the next symptom of my stress "management" manifest itself. Pimples to migraine to... what? A bout of clumsiness culminating in a car crash? All my hair falls out? A stroke? Yeesh! I wish they would just get it over with and start training me.

Like a rat...

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 00:21:26 GMT

...I have jumped ship on 45 different tribes today. That leaves me 55 tribes. A couple months ago, I deleted about 30. Tribe has become an addiction that has taken the place of my writing. I spend more time on Tribe than any other internet site. I thought I would be content with 100 tribes, but it still consumes too much of my life. So I am cutting back. In a month or so, I may decide to delete another 25 or so tribes to further reduce my internet time. I need to start writing again, and I don't mean by posting to my various tribal groups! heh There are tribes here that I will *never* leave. No doubt my fellow tribers know which those are. But as fun as it is to while away my time playing with my words, it would be more profitable if I actually devoted more time to getting published. I am 32 years old and still not published. I am beginning to feel like such a failure. I really would like to move out of my parent's home at some point in my life (and not have to move back in like my brother and sister both). So, don't miss me, 'cause those tribes that I love will still have my devotion... but I'm trimming away the fat and will probably trim further somewhere down the road till my tribe list is sleek and lean.

Another Year Older... whoopty friggin' do

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Wed, 08 Mar 2006 03:35:00 GMT

What a rotten birthday. Gifts aside, and who really cares about gifts anyway, it was a crappy birthday. I spent Thursday playing violent video games. It was therapeutic. Friday I worked of course. I felt like crap, all achey and irritable. I had a migraine from sun up to sun down on Saturday, so I ended up calling in sick. Then Sunday, I woke up with a sore throat. Seems I had received at least one unexpected gift for my birthday, the family cold. So today I let my family drag me to Bennigans. It was the first day since Thursday that most of us could get together. Honestly I don't see what the hype is all about. I'm (part) Irish, but aside from the look of the place, the cuisine isn't particularly Irish so far as I can see. And I don't drink, so.... oh well. I don't know. It feels like I'm still at the bottom of a dry well. Must be my biorhythms are at an all time low or something. I don't have the energy to do anything. There's lots of stuff I tell myself I should be doing, like getting off this computer and cleaning my room, or staying on the computer and writing (as I haven't written anything significant in months), or finding a part time job. I really, really want to do something, but I don't know what. I just can't get motivated. Maybe now that my birthday is over, I can go on to something else. But I have this overwhelming sense of anxiety. Maybe it's because I'm an empath, and I'm picking up on my family's monetary woes and compounding them with my own. My funds are low. Lower than they've been in a while, though not rock bottom. I really wish I'd get my tax checks, and the longer it takes for them to come, the more I wonder if I did my taxes incorrectly again. Last year I made an error because of the 401K payout I took when I left the bank. This year I may have made an error because of a pension plan payout (also from the bank). I'm not too worried about whether I'll owe. Last year, I got about $1000 more than I expected. I'm more worried that any error will be in my favor, but that it will take them till June to send me a check (like last year). I'd really like to get my tax checks because I plan to pay off my computer and thus be free of that bill (and the interest attached to it). I'm sure lots of people have reason to be more anxious than me, but that doesn't stop me from feeling completely out of control. It feels like everything is... waiting, holding its breath. I'm at the bottom of a well, and I wonder am I really at the bottom or will I find myself sliding down further into unknown depths.

Birthday Blues

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Thu, 02 Mar 2006 15:19:04 GMT

Well, it's my birthday tomorrow. Beyond a doubt, it will suck. My birthdays always do. I think in my entire life, I've had maybe one good birthday. March birthdays suck because they're so close to tax time. You're either broke because you've paid up your taxes, or broke because you're waiting for a refund. My mother's car is in the shop and will probably cost $1000 to fix or so she keeps telling me. I asked for a dresser for my birthday, not even new. I asked for a used one because I don't like the shoddy, expensive new furniture you can buy these days, and they couldn't even do that. I even went through the local free newsletters looking for a cheap one. Nope, couldn't even spend $45 on me. I asked for earmuffs. Probably won't get that either, mostly because they're not taking me seriously on that request. It's not like I need or want anything expensive. Aside from a new bed (which I didn't ask for or even mention to anyone, I'll get it when I have the money), there's nothing costly that I need. It is over a decade old though, so past time to replace. I work tomorrow, so they were going to take me out today. Not even to any place I want to go, but what is convenient for them. But now we're not going anyway because there's a winter storm today. Maybe Tuesday, when I have off again. I'm not looking forward to it. I'm more than disgusted with birthdays in general. Most people hate birthdays because they're getting older. I actually like birthdays because I get to tell people I'm older and still not look it. Good genes. ;-) But I think I'd like to give up birthdays completely just so I don't have to go through this suck-fest every year. I wish I could win the lottery and move far away from my family. They're the reason I hate my birthdays anyway. They can't do even the tiniest little thing I ask for. Like my birthday cake. Usually my mom buys me a cake at a bakery, but as she's strapped for cash, she told me she was making one. I was okay with that. I told her I wanted a double layer white cake with raspberry filling and butter cream icing. I also told her emphatically that I did not want a box cake. I even looked up a couple recipes online so she would have a choice. So early this morning, she went and bought the cake Pillsbury thinks I should enjoy. I can't tell any more if I am pissed off or just depressed about the general suckage of my birthday. It's like this every year. It's not like I ask for a lot. Would it have been so difficult to make me a cake without all the preservatives? I feel kind of offended that my birthday is only "celebrated" at a level convenient to the people in my family. I mean why even ask me what I want if they don't care? I always take a lot of time picking out their presents, and cooking for them, whatever they want. It's not fair that they don't show me the same consideration. I just feel so unappreciated. I might as well not even exist. Last year my sister gave me $50. Probably more than she's ever given me. Of course, a few days later she cracked up her car. I gave her the money back to help her get a new one. You think she could have said thank you? Nope. Work's going to be awful this weekend. I'm going to be crabby and disagreeable, and the customers will be just as stupid as ever. I thought when I got a job at a bookstore, finally I would have the opportunity to use my brain and be appreciated for my intellect, but when idiots come into the store and tell me they saw a book on some daytime talkshow and they don't know the author or title, but the cover was blue, I want to scream! Nevermind that on the off-chance I do find the book it is most definitely never blue, I don't spend my time sitting around watching television and NEVER talkshows. Some days I feel like every customer that comes into the store is Pres-for-life Bush's slightly smarter, but still moronic cousin. I feel like hitting something.

Arrogant, me?

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Wed, 21 Sep 2005 05:23:14 GMT

The other day, my brother told me I am the most arrogant person he knows. I honestly don't know how I feel about that. I know I am proud... of my mind and of who I am. I mean, I could have turned out a lot worse given how other people treated me in school, and I see my pride in myself as a self-defense mechanism to deal with the extraordinarily bad self-image I inherited from the public school system. And I work in retail, so my opinion of the general public has not been enhanced by my life experiences. But arrogant? Maybe it's just a difference of interpretation. Maybe what I see as pride and a good self-image is what he sees as arrogance. But I always figured arrogance was extreme pride without any redeeming qualities. And sure, I don't really like most people, the agenda of our leaders depresses me and the general populace is more ignorant than any lifeform you'd be liable to find under a rock (I mean even a newt can tell you that it's a dirty bird that fowls it's own nest), but that doesn't mean I wouldn't and don't go out of my way to help people when they need it.. whether it's a little thing like holding a door open for someone following me into a building or helping someone out with my time (by listening) or money. I mean, if I don't put my best foot forward and be the exception to the (willfully ignorant) norm, how am I ever going to set a good example to ensure there'll be better people in the future? So where does the arrogant part come in? While it's true they say what you usually hate in other people is a quality you possess in abundance yourself, and I really hate arrogance (almost as much as I hate ignorance - a quality I try to excise daily from my own self), I just can't wrap my mind around what personality quirk would make my brother think I am arrogant. Is it possible to arrogant, yet not rude and belligerant? As a family member, you would think my brother would know me best, but I've asked coworkers about it (they being the folk I spend most of my time with, like as not) and they just don't see it either. I am confused and little bit hurt. Maybe he just thinks I'm arrogant because I'm his big sister and he's a ignorant little snot. Bitter? Moi? Nope, not a jot. You just haven't met my brother.

All this sleep and no dreams

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Fri, 22 Jul 2005 03:24:27 GMT

I have slept away most of the day and still I am tired. This is my only day off from work this week, so I guess I am entitled... and considering I had insomnia last night and didn't fall asleep till some time after 2AM, I guess it's perfectly understandable that I then slept until 1PM this afternoon. I made a great dinner for the family (free range garlic-sage chicken, baked macaroni and cheese, peas, corn, greenbeans, baked potatoes, and rolls and pudding pies for dessert) which was a lot of hard work, but did I really need that hour and a half nap after dinner? I wanted to organize my comics today, read the ones I picked up last Thursday before the Harry Potter-heads descended upon my poor bookstore, and draw my webcomic for tomorrow. Well, I'm not going to get any organizing done (maybe next week) and I didn't have time to draw the comic (I cheated and hoisted a photo from Google to which I affixed a cinquain). I *might* get those comics read though. I suppose I would feel better if I could remember any dreams. BTW, I finished Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on Sunday night. It was rather disappointing. Don't read any further unless you don't plan to read it or you've already finished... Guess what? Dumbledore dies. Shocking? Nope. I think most people with a brain figured that one was coming since his living counterpart for the movies died. The Half-blood prince? Snape. And that little discovery had very little to do with the actual plot of the story. The whole book seemed to serve only as a segue to the following book and as a convenient vehicle through which Rowling could reveal backstory on Tom Riddle AKA Lord Voldemort AKA He-who-blahblahblah. In short, nothing occured in this latest volume which was at all twisty or surprising. Snore. Maybe I'm expecting too much from a children's book, but I think Rowling reached her peak and the reason this book took so long to come out was because her muse has left the building.

Vampires in Space

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Wed, 13 Jul 2005 18:00:01 GMT

I dreamed last night that NASA wanted to investigate what was on the other side of the sun in Earth's orbit. So first, it was suggested that a ship be launched that would simply wait for the solar system to revolve. But since they didn't think they could store enough food in the ship for a year, they decided to lauch a couple automated storage ships that would remain in orbit until they mission ship caught up with them and took on the cargo. I suppose that time could have been shaved off the mission, but they chose to conserve fuel by just waiting for the natural revolution of the solar system. So everything went according to plan and eventually the ship was opposite the Earth on the other side of the sun. And there was another planet there. It was completely earth-like and inhabited. We landed (myself and my crewmate) and found that the people and culture were just like Earth, right down to the speaking English (how convenient... heh). So we landed quietly and unobserved and began exploring. Eventually I had to use a public toilet (eeewwwww) and when I came out, it was getting dark and people were running for home. In fact, the streets were almost completely deserted and those people on the streets were bolting for their homes like wolve were at their heels. It turns out the whole town was overrun with vampires. One of them tried to get me, but apparently I had a birthmark on my wrist in the dream which prevented the vampire from attacking me. They called it Answaz, but it looked more like Ehoso on its side. He grabbed me by the wrist and couldn't hold on. Of course, this being a dream, eventually I did get bit... but all I would drink was fruit juice and no one could get me to drink anything else.

Opals and Superheroes

Candace_the_Bibliophile — Tue, 05 Jul 2005 18:01:49 GMT

Last night I dreamed I was travelling on a spaceship seeking precious ores and minerals. We stopped at a world that was being consumed by its sun. In the process, opals would congeal in pools of plasma and could be scooped up from the liquifying planet. Though we did not need space suits and could walk on the planet even as it was destroyed by the sun, past a certain point, we would also die in the sun's heat. As the opals coalesced, they would begin to shimmer through the plasma sludge of the pools dotting the landscape of the dying planet. I could reach into these pools with my bare hands and lift opals of various color from the pools. Some were white with barely any shimmer and others were black with a high rainbow sheen. There were many colors -blue, green, reds- in between, though reds, yellows, and oranges seemed to be the most rare (and coveted). Now it seemed that I had this dream twice. The first time I had it, I collected my opals and managed to get back to the ship in time. I could tell how long I had to get to the ship by the color of the world around me. When the planet was about to give up the ghost, it acquired the rusty yellow and orange hue of desert. In the first dream, I took my opals to the ship and we left. Then it seemed to loop back to the beginning of the dream and this time I waited too long collected opals and the ship had to leave without me. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Then I dreamed that I was a superhero in training at a school for superheroes. But there was some kind of serial killer with a Jack the Ripper MO going around gutting the students. The police wouldn't do anything because they were either on strike or figured as super-powered folk we should be able to take care of ourselves. So a bunch of the students decided to track down the killer themselves since their teachers weren't doing anything to protect them. Unfortunately, I woke up at this point.