MEMEMEMEMEMEMEEEEEEEEE!

Borrowed from the lovely Melissa, over at My Stars in the Sky

1. Accent- Apparently, quite Canadian, eh.
2. Booze of choice- Vodka
3. Chore I hate- Dishes. I <3 dishwashers.
4. Dog or cat- Cat
5. Essential electronics- laptop
6. Favorite perfume/cologne- Light Blue, by Dolce and Gabanna
7. Gold or silver- Platinum.
8. Hometown- Burnaby
9. Insomnia- Every friggin' night.
10. Job title- Electronics store peon/Graphic Designer/Hooligan/Petty Thug.
11. Kids- I have many illegitamate children from many different women.
12. Living arrangements- I share a 5 bedroom house with 4 males. 1 of whom I work with. It's probably the best living situation I've ever had in my life, because they are "Good boys".
13. Most admired trait- The fact that half the stuff that comes out of my mouth makes people laugh/surprised and/or entertained.
14. Number of sexual partners- 48. Oh fuck off, don't look at me like that.
15. Overnight hospital stays- Zero.
16. Phobia- the dark, Ghosts.
17. Quote- "Aiyah!"
18. Religion- Buddhist/Wicca/Agnostic/Religion?
19. Siblings- 1 half brother that I've never met, 1 deceased twin sister.
20. Time I wake up- 8:00 am
21. Unusual talent or skill- Singing.
22. Vegetable I refuse to eat- Seaweed
23. Worst habit- nail biting
24. X-rays- Are a rare variety of Sting Rays. I have had three. They are very tasty.
25. Yummy foods I make- Anything, dammit.
26. Zodiac sign- Taurus.

Addendum...

Or rather, a revoking of bitching, regarding the Asian supermarket that opened on the 30th relatively close to my store.

Sure it still stinks up the hallway, but you can get 6 pork potstickers for only 3.2o(incl. tax). and a candy I haven't had since I was a kid, called White Rabbit. (No, it's not some sort of Acid.)

That kicks some solid gold bottom, because those fuckers are a wicked lunch.

Also, the quarter glued to the floor is STILL glued to the floor, though I did get the pleasure of watching 4 early teenagers trying their hardest to pick it up. They even went so far as to ask my coworker for a screw driver to help. *Giggles like a japanese schoolgirl.*

Please note, that if anyone can find either a:

1.) Gothic "My Little Pony" (but not a shitty looking one, thanks)

And/or

2.) An Gothic/Anti "Care Bear"

For me, to purchase as an early birthday present, I will be very receptive to said gifting of dark oriented gifty-ness, and quite happy to give you my mailing address.

ALSO:

To the parents/grandparents of children, purchasing a $100.00 or over item for your child/grandchild's EASTER present, is fucking overkill. Give them an earless chocolate bunny, and the bastards should consider themselves lucky. That's all I ever got. All this does is teach children that Hallmark holidays are meant for spending money on things.... Oh wait... Never mind. Actually, that's all I still get. But you never look a gifted, earless, chocolate bunny in the mouth.

BTW, speaking of Easter, a big word-up to Jesus: my homeboy, for dying and giving me a short fully paid, early-evening shift on Friday, and also Sunday off. Thanks for hanging out, yo.

Eugh, the evil in me is compelling.

ALSO! (last thing, I promise!) Any motherfucker that pulls an April Fool's day prank on me tomorrow, will NOT be thought kindly of for some time.

That is all.

Best, Worst, Last, Today, Tomorrow, Favourite, Currently.

b e s t
1. Male friend: Erik, Mitch,Dean and Scott.
2. Female friend: Crystal, Melissa, Liz, Jeri, Carlene.
3. Vacation: All the vacations I've been on.
4. Age: 25... forapproximately the next 37 days.
5. Memory: smelling the rain on the cement in NYC during a heat wave.

w o r s t
1. Time of day: Morning...
2. Day of the week: Thursday. It crawls slower than molasses in winter.
3. Food: Fishy tasting fish. Cucumber (yet, I like pickles.) and liver.
4. Memory: Being molested at the age of 13.

l a s t
1. Person you saw: Carlene.
2. Talked to on the phone: Some customer that didn't know what they were talking about.
3. Hugged: Carlene. She got me a Cream horn from the new supermarket downstairs.
4. Text: Scott, asking what we were having for dinner.
5. IM: Dean: Herro?
6. Person you kissed: Non-romantically: Greg, my landlord. Romantically: Romance? There is no such beast.

t o d a y
1. What are you doing now: Slacking
2. Wearing: My much disliked work uniform, though I found a sweater in the back, that technically I'm not supposed to wear but fits me, so I'm wearing it... FCUK for her perfume, and a helluva lot of metal.. Four silver/white gold rings, silver necklace, my 8 gauge earrings, my 12 gauge tongue peircing, my 12 gauge cartilage piercings, and my 12 gauge captive bead and omega earrings in my 2nd and 3rd ear piercings.
3. Better than yesterday: Nah. I don't feel too hot today, and yesterday I was actually smiling in the morning.

t o m o r r o w
1. Is: Friday. Not that it matters.
2. Got: A potential tennis match, if the weather doesn't suck.
4. Dislikes about tomorrow: I haven't won the lottery yet, and must attend work. Also, I must get up before 10 am.
5. Do you have homework: School ended a while ago. Though I do have a goal of an hour of Spanish, and an hour of guitar, and an hour of yoga and meditation a day, so I guess that 's homework.

f a v o r i t e
1. Number: 69. Heheheheheheheh...
2. Song: "Tired of Being Alone" - Al Green.
3. Color: Orange.
4. Season: Autumn.
5. State: Amused.

c u r r e n t l y
1. Missing someone: I miss Erik.
2. Mood: Relatively ambivalent. Annoyed at customers.

Pee-yoo!

They are in the process of opening up a new T&T supermarket downstairs and to the left of my store. It stinks. Not to my co-workers, of course, who enjoy asian cuisine and varied types of seafood, but to me, holee gawd. I'm ready to barf.

Perhaps it's because despite the fact that I'm a smoker, I still have a relatively good sense of smell, and as much as some people dig and/or are used to the odor of freeze dried sea urchin, and various flavoured and prepared fish product, I'm not. I like my fish not smelling like fish.

Actually, I prefer everything and anything not smelling like fish. Take that as you will.

As an aside, it's conspired amidst my co workers and I to use Gel superglue to attach a quarter to the mall floor outside of our location. That fucker is glued on good. *giggles*

It's right there, glinting tempting-like the sunlight, and we're salivating to see someone try to pick it up.

Mushroom, Mushroom!

I've had the incredibly stupid, yet incredibly earwormish "badger, badger, badger!" song (if you want to actually call it a song...) stuck in my head all day!

Ahhh! A snake, a giant snake!

Mirrors Reflection.

This is a very lengthy entry. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Music: The album “Voyageur” and the album “Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi!” by Enigma.
Mood: Pensive, Honest, Open, loquacious, fond of large words and superfluous writing.

I used to be beautiful.

Or I should say, that I used to think I was beautiful. Now... I’m not so certain.

That’s the thing about us humans, unless we’ve been told we’re ugly day in and day out, and have had it beaten into our psyche, it’s pretty common that most people have a better mental image of ourselves than what we actually look like.

Comparatively, it’s like looking into the mirrors at an amusement park, where the fat man stands in front of the mirror that makes him look taller and thinner, and consequently sees himself that way in everyday life in his mind. This explains the abundance of men and women wearing very unflattering bathing suits at the beach during summertime. It’s those fucking lying concave mirrors at Walmart. (This is true, by the way.)

I despise how I look now, and nothing except my own laziness is stopping me from getting to be close to what I want to look like. Oh, I’ll admit that I’m remarkably lazy. I overindulge, and don’t push myself as hard as I could. I’m weak, in mind and body.

I know that the human body is a remarkable thing, and that it changes and adapts to however it’s treated and trained. I know this. I don’t need people to tell me, or remind me. I go to the gym with my coworker Carlene after work, I enjoy walking, I do yoga and meditation, I take metabolism boosters, I play tennis in the late spring, throughout the summer, and through most of autumn with Crystal. I swim like a fish whenever I get the chance, and dance like an idiot in my living room when no one is home (and occasionally when someone is home, I don’t care). Other than chocolate, coffee and the occasional burger, I eat relatively healthy foods.

I also bury myself in blankets reading books a lot, sleep in until disgustingly late on my days off, and spend hours designing whatever strikes my fancy or whatever I’m commissioned to do, and writing. Occasionally I smoke a joint, and get incredibly introspective, delving into the parts of my brain that I usually don’t pay attention to. Though, tonight isn’t one of those nights.

Tonight, I stumbled across a picture lurking on my hard drive, from someone that was once an online “male admirer” and is now simply a friend named Alex, who I talk to once a week or so. He is a very talented artist, and he had done a drawing of me a few years ago... I suppose it’s partially due to the fact that two dimensional reference pictures are very misleading to people that have never met you in person, but honestly, there’s nothing realistic about the drawing other than my face, and even that has been perfected into something I’ll never be.

But damn, I wish I looked that fine. *sighs*

I sat there, and stared at it, and pictures of myself when I was about 23, when I started dating Erik, and I was the thinnest I’ve ever been. I stared at these pictures for almost an hour. The way I felt when I looked at them was a mixture of wishful thinking, sadness, and disgust over my current appearance.

I looked at it, and told myself, “Self; this bombshell, this goddess of an image, is what you’ll never be. Your skin will never be that perfect, and you’ll always have stretch marks and cellulite...Your muscles will never be that defined, your breasts will never be that large or perfect, and your hair will never look perfectly porn-star tousled. Why even bother? You’ll never be her.”

And I despaired a little, because I really do want to look like her. I’ll admit, I even cried and I haven’t cried over anything personal in a couple of months, because I’ve felt numb. It’s a hard thing when you have to face reality head on, and you’re not in the right frame of mind. It’s kind of like getting whacked in the face with a 2 x 4.

Of course... I haven’t been in the right frame of mind, for quite some time.
I’ve never been fit. I’ve never been slender. Or at least I haven’t been slender since Grade one. That’s almost 20 years ago.

I’m five feet, nine inches tall, and approximately 210 pounds. I honestly don’t know my measurements, and I don’t care to know them. And I hate myself. It takes large amounts of maintenance to look “attractive” in today’s standards, where celebrities and social programming have made anyone over a size 12 “fat”, airbrushing imagery has made skin flawless, and where stores have changed sizes of clothing from Small to XL, to XXXXS - XXXXL. I mean... Who the fuck is actually a size zero?

I spend an hour and a half a week just removing various body hair, including shaving my legs, and plucking my eyebrows. It takes me an hour to do a decent job on my makeup, that I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on for brushes and various types of products. It’s more complicated than some would think, if you know how to do it “right”, and you’re doing a full out job of it.
I dye my hair every month and a half (and even then, to keep regular maintenance, it should be done once every three weeks.).

I spend 45 minutes to an hour, every two weeks to do a pedicure, and I’m self-conscious about my hands and fingers, because I bite my nails, and I’ve scuffed them across sharp objects from years of working in a bakery and now in retail, and it’s “not attractive” for women to have short fingernails and scars on their hands. Often when attending events, I’ll pay money to put on false nails, because it makes me feel “pretty”.

I’ve had men reject me outright because of my physical appearance, and I’ve had men use me for sexual activity and then disregard my feelings/satisfaction or ignore me as soon as they were satisfied, because all they wanted was pussy.

Let me clarify please. I’m not categorizing all men in this area. It just makes me sad, angry and a little hurt. I might have been bitter once, but I don’t think it’s really in me anymore to hold a grudge. I’m just cautious now and very picky as to whom I’ll allow in my bed, and even moreso who I’ll let into my heart. It’s going to have to be someone pretty-fucking-spectacular, to win me over.

Then again, what “pretty-fucking-spectacular” person, would settle for me? I’m the sort of person that as soon as the word “relationship” gets attached to someone with me, I get jealous when I’m threatened. It’s not healthy, and it’s not because I don’t trust them. I don’t trust the people around them. I end up loving them SO much, that I get terrified of losing them, and that’s what makes them leave.

Devin pushed me beyond all emotional capabilities, and I think he ‘broke’ me. Not on his own, mind you, but our relationship crashing and burning somewhere along the way after my trip to Dallas was pretty brutal on me. It was a little girl’s dreams of romance, a “soul mate”, and “true love” that got shattered. I don’t believe in “soul mates” anymore. I don’t believe in a lot of things, anymore.

And love? Yes, I do believe in love. I see it all around me all the time, I see enough people in love. I love enough people still, in the recesses of my heart when I probably shouldn’t anymore, and openly enough to tell it to their faces, to still believe in it.

So, that’s life, and I accept it. I’m picking up those shattered pieces, putting them back together, and tossing out the bits that weren’t benefitting me as a person, and damaging relationships I have had. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, but it still stung like fury.
I was talking with my newest room-mate, a friend and coworker, Scott, on a walk back from his girlfriend’s house at around midnight last night. I talked to him about my mindset at the moment and he told me that I’m a fantastic person.

He told me that I’m generous, caring, well humoured and intelligent, and in the five months he’s been working with me, he’s developed a friendship with me that eventually led to me arranging and inviting him into my house when he was on the down and outs in his life, without expecting anything of him, and only to help him find a solution to his problems.

He told me that I needed to “stop looking” for that other half of my soul; to stop searching the reflection. He said I’ll find them someday, The yin to my yang, the person I was meant to be with, because I deserved it. That I’d find someone that appreciated me for who I am, and what I looked like, and I’d know it when it happened, but not until it happened. And then he smiled his cats smile at me and gave me a big hug in the middle of Surrey at midnight. I’m sure someone, somewhere, watching, thought I was a hooker.

Of course, he’s newly in love with his girlfriend, and it always looks sunshine and roses for those people, doesn’t it? All right. Maybe I am a little bitter. But only a little.

Some people jump into the pond with both feet, not knowing how deep it is or what lurks inside5 because they can’t see beyond the reflection on the surface. I’m skirting the edges and gingerly dipping my toes in, because I’ve dived in too many times, and there might be piranhas in the water again, waiting to rip apart and devour the bits that I just glued back together. Yeah. I’m terrified, and I’m more than willing to hold back and wait. I’m only twenty-six this May, and I don’t have to rush anything. Though I miss the touch of another person more often than I care to admit.

What people don’t understand, is that I’m not looking. I’m avoiding anything like that, because I’m not myself. I don’t even know who “myself” is, anymore. I’m still sorting through that jumbled rubbish that used to be me. I’m still picking up the bits that are valuable and intact, and finding new spots in the frame where they will fit. It’s not just failed relationships that crushed some of those bits of silvered glass to powder.

I also feel like I made the worst mistake of my life going to school. Which people have repeatedly told me is nonsense, because I gained skills I didn’t have before. To an extent, I agree with them. Somewhat. I could have learned this all on my own, but it would have taken longer.

But in the long run, I failed, didn’t I? Yeah. I know I did. I remind myself one way or another that I have all the time. I can acknowledge it. It was my fuck up. So why the hell do other people deny it when I mention it? At least my parents are honest enough to tell me that I’ve made a mistake, and still forgive me for it regardless of what route it’s taken me along.
I sabotaged myself somehow and somewhere along the way. If I’d never gone to school, I certainly wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in debt, from so many different sources it makes it nearly impossible to sleep some nights.

It’s all about the choices I made, and the ones I’ve still to make. And there’s so many more to make.

Do I worry as much as I used to? No... Not really. It’s almost remarkable that I don’t, considering the amount of stuff on my plate. I mean, I still worry about the day to day stuff, but the big things, the ones that used to overwhelm me to the point of no return... I guess I finally learned to take it one day at a time, and it took the life that I was accustomed to heaped in shards around me to figure it out. That’s a hard way to learn, and I don’t really recommend it to anyone. I’m trying to stick to my New Years Resolution, to “relax”. That’s when meditation and Yoga came into play in my life, and it’s helped me.

Or maybe it’s the fact that somewhere in my brain, something clicked, and I really don’t care to worry as much anymore. It wasn’t doing me any good, and I can’t be bothered when I’ve got so much stuff cluttering up my head already. I’m too busy reinventing myself. I’m too busy finding the peace inside me.

There’s people that balance me in my life. Some I’ve met, and some I haven’t. Some are just words on the screen, with people far away writing them, Some are letters I get in the mail from friends that have moved away, or friends that I chat with online... And some are just memories of people I loved, or people that made some sort of impact on me in life... Though I try to not linger too often in the past, it doesn’t do me much good in the present to miss the individuals I haven’t had success in finding again thus far. There are people that support me endlessly, and in this state of my life, if I didn’t have them, I’d probably be lying, bleeding across that heap of shards.

Some of the things that keep me going are characters in books that I’ve read, oddly enough. There are stories that replay in my mind, over and over again, from books that I’ve read dozens of times over.

I haven’t been “myself” since over six months ago, and I wonder where I went. Sean called it my “angsty phase”. Fuck. I thought I got over that when I turned 19.

Christmas was the pinnacle of absurdity, where I made a colossal ass out of myself in front of my family, and spent most of the day crying... About what, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was the fact that everyone was asking me about school. Maybe it was the fact that I was mostly forgotten by family members. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn’t around anonymous customers, and around the people that know me, that know what I’ve done, (or heard it through the grapevine), or ones that have known me since I was born. It was thoroughly unpleasant. The only reason why I stayed, was because my mom and dad asked me to. I’d do just about anything for my parents.

My writing has suffered, and I’ve resorted to filling my blog with crap Meme’s, because I don’t have things to write about. It gets boring whining about how shitty I’m feeling and random garbage happening at work. There are enough Emo wannabe’s in the world, without my addition to that particular aspect of society, so I either refrain from doing entries, or fill it with fluff, which isn’t really fair to myself or the people that read my blog. My creativity feels stifled, and I have very little passion regarding things, unless they really strike my interest. My emotions are jumping all over the place, ranging from numb to ecstatic, to despairing. It’s so confusing. It’s so complicated.

But when I stare at the reflection of myself in my mirror, after I’ve spent my time plucking my eyebrows, or putting on makeup, or styling my hair that needs a dye job... And I still don’t know who’s staring back at me... Only that it’s supposed to be me.

Angelic...

And you never know until you have to ask them.

My parents, are angels.

See, I made a mistake, a month and a half ago, that I'm still feeling the repercussions of. I decided to do massage, three days a week from a downtown location. Three weeks into my month of advertised massage, I had had three clients, for three days a week of shiftwork that I'd given up to have time for this stupid venture.

When you do the math, you see how that's lopsided.

This mistake meant that I had very small paycheques from my day job. Very small. Enough to survive off of, if you didn't need to eat food AND pay rent. Man I'd fucked up.

Since I have enough body fat to survive off of for weeks, I chose to go without the food, to ensure that I had a place to live. When desperation hit, and I'd run out of my last few plain pieces of pasta in the cupboard, I gathered up my courage, tossed my pride aside, and called my Mom and Dad.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. Your generosity brought tears to my eyes. Hell, it still does.

Stirring up the Men Folk and Random Bits of Nothing...

I'm pissing off men left right and center today... It's kinda fun. *giggles behind her hand like a japanese schoolgirl.*

I just want to know what bratty, teasing, female decided to inhabit my brain today, because it's slightly out of character.

Hey! I said slightly, not entirely... Of course, the only man who's retaliating the way he should, is the only man that's ever actually made me scream in bed. Fitting, I think.

Things are boring in Glamazon shoe territory when celibacy rules. Damnit. It's like that Sienfeld episode, where George gets smarter from celibacy, and Elaine gets dumber... This shit is true.

I've had the song "Joey" by Concrete Blonde stuck in my head for DAYS. "Oh Joey, I'm not angry anymoooooore..."

Dean feigned jealousy over me chatting with an old classmate, telling me that he was going to "Go talk with the gas man about... Oh I dunno, Huffing." (This is paraphrasing, sorry, doll.) I laughed until tears came out of my eyes.

I'm for some unreasonable reason, quite mad at Devin right now. Mainly because whenever he chooses to acknowledge me, he's a snarky little bitch, when there's no need for it. I am mad at myself for STILL checking his website.

The Mayor is telling people that he's done with Mitchieville. He'd better be joking, because I need to view half nude women on a daily basis at work. We are not amused.

Emily has decided to start writing again in OddVitamins, and I'm thrilled. It's about 'effing time, Missy. There's certain snark that is necessary in the world, and I'm too flaky to tackle the political issues that you do even though I agree wholeheartedly with your views. I don't have the balls to deal with people disagreeing with me in my comments. It stresses me out.

I am not meant to use BitTorrent programmes. I have absoutely NO idea what I'm doing. The day has come where technology has bested me. Damn you technology.

I've had the image of my hottie boom-a-lottie old HTML teacher flashing in and out of my head like an animated gif the past week and a half. Yummm.

I did 90 sit-ups, (and almost died) 40 minutes of Yoga and 20 minutes of Meditation last night, and woke up happy this morning. It was kind of nice.

I'm going to go home, and stop bothering the poor people at the blenz.

Ciao n' kisses.

"When your fins are tired...

"Just remember this one thing. Keep on swimming, keep on swimming... Swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming..."

-Dory in Finding Nemo

I'm tired. It's day eight out of my ten days in a row.

Ah, it wasn't intentional, though. Things went amok, the boss had to take a trip to the hospital with his S.O. on Saturday in the very early morning and I got one of those "Please, please please" phone calls at seven in the morning, and one of my co workers quit a week Saturday ago... There's three of us here. Juggling shifts, working 12 hour days. We're ALL tired.

I spent today with my manager, Corey, drooling over the most suped up mac's on apple.com, For instance, the best Best BEST Mac you can buy costs 28,000 bucks. That's more than my tuition for the entire year of 2005. That's disgusting, and I *SO* want one. This is why I need to get rich. I want to be *stupid* rich.

My brain is slow. Slow like molasses in Winter. So slow that I actually had to come back to this entry, and complete sentences that I had left hanging. So tired, that it took me twenty minutes to find conditioner, Q- tips, and feminine thingo's in the small shoppers drug mart underneath my store.

My legs hurt. I feel old.

*le sigh*

Keep on swimming, Kid. You've got many leagues to go before you sleep.

Memememememe....

You Have a Phlegmatic Temperament

Mild mannered and laid back, you take life at a slow pace. You are very consistent - both in emotions and actions. You tend to absorb set backs easily. You are cool and collected. It is difficult to offend you. You can remain composed and unemotional. You are a great friend and lover. You don't demand much of others. While you are quiet, you have a subtle wit that your friends know well. At your worst, you are lazy and unwilling to work at anything. You often get stuck in a rut, without aspirations or dreams. You can get too dependent on others, setting yourself up for abandonment.

What Temperment Are You?

The Lovers... The Dreamers... And Me....

You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know. You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems. Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green. Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!

The Muppet Personality Test

The Hazards of Mall Employment, Part 2.

6.) "Would you like to take a survey?" Malls are plagued with what I like to call "Survey Vultures". Middle aged (and older) women linger in main passageways in the mall, Survey Vultures try to snag you on breaks, before work starts, on the way to the bathroom, you name it. Survey Vultures type VERY SLOWLY. It's almost painful to watch. I've conceded ONCE, and only once, to have a survey done, and only on the promise of potentially recieving chocolate. I never got my chocolate. Man was I pissed. Stupid survey vultures.

7.) "Could you come in on Saturday, because that would be grreeeeat." Oh, the ever awkward, "I can't say 'No.' to my boss without looking like an arse" question. Do I really want to spend more time than necessary in my place of employment, on a day that I would have off... Dealing with more customers, as opposed to doing my own thing, in my house, with my friends or *gasp* by myself? Hmm... Good question. It's a shame you can't be brutally honest. "Sorry boss. I would, but I don't want to."

8.) Shoplifters. Surrey is a den of sin and inequity. full of White Trash, (complete with 4 or 5 vehicles on the lawn,) 14 year olds dressed like prostitutes, (some, sadly enough, are prostitutes) the homeless get stiffed, beaten, abused and generally treated like dirt left right and center, there's heaps of welfare families and lower income residents, both Elderly and young. Grow-ops, Meth kitchens, Drug users and dealers abound and it's sometimes intimidating to walk home after dark, no matter what gender and what age you are. Surrey is quickly becoming comparable to the Lower East Side of Vancouver.

Despite efforts to "Clean up" the city, progress is slow, and there is a desperate need for shelters, drug counselling, daycare for single parents and social programmes. The lack of funds, employment opportunities and the fact that if you're a single person on welfare in Canada, you get 800 dollars a month. Comparing a minimum wage (8.00/hr) 40 hour work week to that, you're topping welfare by approximately $400.00. That's $400.00 below the poverty line. That's horrifying. That means that numerous individuals, from the granny next door, who looks sweet and innocent, to the homeless off the streets reeking of Hobo #5, are lifting products from the store.


To be continued...

Quite possibly the most...

Gorgeous mouth watering male I've ever seen in my life, comes into my store, wearing a T- shirt that says "So where's your sister tonight?"

My almost response, had he come any further into the store, and actually attempted to talk to me, (other than barking like a harbour seal, of course) "I dunno but you can sure be my daddy tonight."

Mmmmm... Hazelnutty.

My cousin tossed me a box of gourmet chocolate hedgehogs around Valentines day that she'd gotten from an admirer. Now... My cousin is a vegetarian, a health concientious individual, and exercises a disgustingly huge amount. My cousin viewed this box of chocolates that are 140 calories per 'hog with disdain.

She then tossed them at me with the warning of calorie intake, her athletic, taloned fingertip stabbing the box onto my chest in warning, and told me to get them out of her sight before she made a decision she regretted immensely.

I know I'm a whore for chocolate, but these are rich. So I brought them to work with me, and left them here, since I don't need an inch on my ass for each chocolate in the box.

Hey, even I have limits regarding chocolate.

I thought they'd been devoured. I thought that everyone at my place of employment had gorged themselves on Gourmet truffle goodness while I'd been wasting my time, sitting on my ever-widening-ass waiting for massage clients for three weeks.

I was wrong. Carlene was rummaging in the back room, and lo and behold, Truffles are HERE! Huzzah! 4 left! Well... There was four left. Now my ass is two inches wider.

Though... I think I cancelled them out by slogging through the godforsaken SLUSH this morning to work.

You see... Normally I take public transit everywhere. Vancouver has a well developed, albeit very pricy transit system that I take full advantage of.

I made the concious decision this month to NOT purchase a bus pass, and walk to work. Granted, this means I'm trapped in Surrey for a month, but the fact remains, that I saved myself 69 bucks for the month, and guaranteed myself to get some exercise. I don't mind walking. as a matter of fact, I walk quite quickly, usually making some people practically run beside me to keep up. I enjoy the majority of my walk, I like the fresh air. I've lost 7 pounds just walking at a brisk pace back and forth to work, in the past 2 weeks, so apparently it pays off.

What I DON'T like, (and this should be obvious, since I've lived in Vancouver and the surrounding area since 1980) is the fact that Vancouver weather is unpredictable. Or at least, the sunshine is. It rains here. Bucketfulls. Oceans-worth. Lakes-full. Dumps. Pisses down. Floods.

Today, it was rain, and snow. mixed up. Cold. wet and miserable. I own what I *thought* was a reliable, fairly heavy duty rain jacket.

Oh sure, it kept my head, shoulders and upper body, completely dry. What I didn't expect, was the fact that the jacket ended right below my crotch. And that's where the water went.

So with great glee, I arrived at work this afternoon with a wet, cold crotch, upper thighs and back of my thighs. I walked (stormed in, would be appropriate) grabbed a travel hair dryer from the shelf, went into the back, plugged the fucker in, and stuffed the hair dryer down my pants.

Glamorous, I know.

That got the majority of my corderoy pants dry. I never realized how HEAVY cords were when they were wet.

The most taunting fact of this event? Four hours later, it's blue skies and sunshine out there.

Figures.

Suicide, Anyone?

Oh for chrissakes. Don't worry.

Though I'd rather have a bath with the toaster... Seems like a warm way to die.

The most ideal way of suicide for you is... Slit your Wrists (Slice along forearm vein then lay in a bath, Pain killers help to relax you) Since you're such a "morbid" and "gothic" person, it probably would be most ideal to slit your wrists. Just think of the expression of your loved ones faces when they find you snow white in a deep red bath of your own blood. A suicide note carved into yourself would also be a cool addition, but hey its your body ... oh and don't forget to give your soul to Satan, I'm pretty sure he has dibs anyway.

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Demonic.

You shelter a Water Demon

Very quiet and cunning, the water demon is one of the cruelest and most destructive demons once provoked : he awaits in the shadows the opportunate moment to strike and then, either with the force of a raging sea or the sharpness of a knife, he stabs the most sensible part of the target. Although he will not wake up if unecessary. Then he will show a calm and gentle image of himself.

What demon sleeps inside you ?
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Neat!

From my good friend, Mike G.

Live action Simpsons.

The Hazards of Mall Employment...

Sure, you've got a few extra bucks in your pocket, burning a hole, and you want to go spend some dough on some neat things at the mall, be it clothes, or electronics, shoes or perhaps a book or two. It's such a great convenience, to have a shopping mall nearby... But think of the employees there. This is what we deal with every day.

1.) Angry customers. Nothing brings your day down more than someone screaming at you about a clock radio that stopped working three weeks after you purchased it. WE didn't mean for it to happen. Hell, WE don't even buy our own product. That's like working in a bakery for years and eating the stuff you make. Sure, the saying is "Never trust a skinny cook" but you know what, when you've made the same stuff day in and day out for years... You get tired of it. If you sell the same stuff day in and day out, do you think you want to wear it or use the product unless it's totally reliable?

2.) "Food Court" Cuisine. Yup. You love fast food when you're out at the mall. Imagine eating it every day, if you don't brown-bag it. Sure, Chinese food is good. So's A&W. New York Fries? Sushi, oh yeah. (though not for me, thanks.) after a while you get sick of it. Salads and sandwiches, and wholesome goods become pretty damned attractive after months on end of eating grease.

3.) Hours of boredom. You come into the mall, get your stuff, and get out. Imagine a mall where there's not much foot traffic, or it's Monday afternoon, and everybody is at work. You've seen employees in stores, standing there, leaning against the counter, chin propped on hand, staring blankly into space, or reading a novel, because there's no one there to help buy anything. It sucks.

4.) Customers that don't know what "personal space" is. Oh yeah. Bad breath and everything. Not to mention "The Spitter", "The Letch", "The Bitch", "The Demander", "The Hard of Hearing But refuse to get a Hearing Aide, Therefore I must Practically Stand on You to Hear What You're Saying to Me", "The Condescender", "The Moron", "The Mister Know-It-All". Yeah, we work in retail. That doesn't mean that we're retarded, don't have personal space, or feelings. These customers usually come in combinations of personalities.

5.) Time wasters. Freeloaders. People that come into your store to "kill time", or play with shit, or use the computer or internet with absolutely no intention of purchasing anything. Do we look like a 'net Cafe? Get the fuck out. People that ask you dozens of questions about stock, or product, or anything under the sun, and tell you that they are wasting time. Wait a second. You're in here wasting YOUR time. you tell me this, after asking me a million questions, Does that not mean that you have no regard for MY time either? Jesus. This also includes the person that asks you questions about NOTHING related to product available, and then when you, as a store associate, walk away to help someone else, they *follow* you.

There's more. I won't elaborate at this point in time.

What My Loins?

My horoscope for March 5th -- (Yeah I skimmed ahead, sue me.)

Get serious about something before it's too late. You've been saying, 'One day ... ' for far too long now. The time is right to move on this opportunity, and it won't linger. Gird your loins. Dive right in.

Thoughts about work...

Homer: "Look at these low, low prices on famous brand name electronics!"

Bart: "Don't be a sap, Dad. These are just crappy knock-offs."

Homer: "I know a genuine Panaphonics when I see it. And look, there's Magnetbox, and Sorny!"

______________________________________________

Fitting, no?

I'm Still Laughing...

At the horrified look on my co-worker Carlene's face when I decided to do my own very deliberately off key renditions of Van Halen's "Jump", and Aerosmith's "Living On the Edge"

What kind of drugs did I take in my sleep this morning? Jeebus.

It must have been the Sweet Tarts that Carlene gave me for breakfast.