I’m pacing, impatient

Up in my head

Remember that time I was getting graded for updating my blog? That was perfect, I got graded on being somewhat funny and an asshole. I miss how simple that was. Now I have to write serious papers on how to fix America's political and media problems - some teachers don't respond well to sarcasm.
The amount of papers I wrote in the last week was ridiculous, I really don't know how my brain is still processing words and their meanings.

I have close to a 50-hour work week this week, and by the time I get on my train at 3:30 (or whenever it arrives from fucking Boston - Boston ruins everything!) on Friday, it will feel like I worked a 100-hour work week. A little piece of advice for those of you Christmas shoppers out there, calm the fuck down. The cashiers aren't all going to walk out on you, I promise - we want to get paid. Also, revert back to kindergarten rules of forming a line. If you are the only one standing strangely away from everyone else, more than likely you decided to ignore the line that was already formed and you are going to get "cut in front of" because no one realizes that you were in line. And to continue on this topic, line breaker, because you are not visibly in line, don't yell at me because I called the guy who was obviously in line and then when I offer to take you instead don't allow him to go, because you just wasted all of our time. I don't know what it is about Jesus' birthday that makes people spend hundreds of dollars on food and take crazy pills, but it has got to stop.

I went out this morning because I needed sneakers for this week so I can keep my feet attached to my legs, Christmas cards, and Dunkin' Donuts, I didn't encounter any crazys luckily, but I was also never persuaded to lose my mind and flip out. So I am not quite sure what the deal is luckily.

Lastly, when I am a rich grown up I won't take crazy pills before appearing in public, nor will I treat customer service human beings like crap because I know how they feel. I encourage you to take my advice.

Today was a weird day, it was my first REAL day off. I am talking no work and no homework. And I just feel weird, empty, and incomplete. I am going to be wishing I had today back, I say around 7:30 Monday night, 4:30 Tuesday evening, 2:30 Wednesday afternoon, 6:30 Thursday morning, and 11:30 Friday morning.

Random fact of the night, I painted my nails Barbie pink tonight - deal with it! :)

I am taking offers from people who want to clean my room. I don't have a whole lot to offer, but I am pretty sure we can try and work something out that will benefit both of us.

SnakeDucca in full effect tonight.
Yes, I am sitting in front of a fan; if I don't my computer will catch on fire.

If I woke up alone, I won't stop 'till I find you, and you are with me

Cause by now, I know you better than you know yourself.

Can someone tell me if there is a full moon or something? People are work today were nuts! I mean, I know that they are always on the crazy/ridiculous - the store has that effect on people - but I mean, people today were just... indescribable.

One of the joys of being a cashier is having to bag stuff, and if I do say so myself, I am pretty damn good at it. As a curtesy, I ask "would you like one bag or two?" The best answer is to say one. Why? It saves time and you need to man up and use those muscles that you were given. The even better answer is to say "One... if it all fits." It will always fit. ALWAYS. On a rare occasion, your bread, chips, and cookies might not make it, but as a snacker, I don't want to assault the goodies. Men are even better with this, because now to them it's a game; the girl couldn't possibly fit all of that into a bag. Then they think it's appropriate to suggest that I'm not going to make it, and BOOM! You have one bag sir... NEXT!

The second answer I frequently get is to "two bags with the weight evenly distributed." This is helpful if you have two of every item, because then legitimately it can be evenly distributed. But, don't scoff if you buy four jars of sauce, a bottle of olive oil, and then two apples. A cousin situation happened to me today when the woman had four cartons of chicken broth, a large bottle of Orangina, and a bag of shallots. She asks me for two bags (personally, one would've been sufficient), so I doubled the bag, put in two cartons and then picked up the shallots (leaving two other cartons and the Orangina), and before I set the shallots in the bag, she shouts "I want two separate bags! Not just doubled!" I slid the bag toward her and lifted up the second doubled bag and said, "I know." And finished bagging. Now, I don't have a problem with splitting the bags up because in my head I imagine these little old ladies walking lopsided through the park, but relax, you're going to get yourself all stressed out for no reason and you might not make it across the park!

The only time this two-bag thing is annoying is when perfectly capable, young attractive men want two bags for a small amount of things. Someone who is keeping track of things I like and don't like in men, write this down. If you are trying to be my boo (shush, it's hypothetical), you are required to be able to carry a bag of groceries.

Also, because I obviously don't know how to do my job, please tell me to put heavy stuff on the bottom first. Nope! Bread, cookies, chips, and eggs are going in first underneath of five containers of extra large soups.

Oh, these are paper bags with handles I'm talking about. Not palm-slicing plastic bags that rip if you look at them too much.

Oh and PS, if you can't carry it, don't buy so much. I'm not Harry Potter or Sabrina the Teenaged Witch, I can't make your stuff POOF into your high-rise.

And another sidenote, just because it's December and you're required to spend more money in your life, doesn't mean it's the end of the world. The store will be there all day, all week, all month, and even next December. Form a line, wait your turn, and give me your $500.

Speaking of $500, one of my Saturday morning regulars, he comes in and normally spends $200-$300 every week, because he buys for his house and his daughters (I assume that there are two of them because he buys in threes). Do you know what I would do for my dad to buy me gourmet noms every week? Multiple hundreds of dollars? Eh, I guess I'd settle for WalMart - I'd get more food. But I'd like to pick key points in life and just spend a weekend in these privileged lives. But working in this neighborhood and industry has taught me several things.
1. How to be snotty.
2. How to poorly treat people.
3. How to properly treat people.
4. How to scam small business owners.
5. If I ever open a store, you will be required to bring your own bags, or your arms better be made of elastic.

Finally, can we talk about December? Ma'am it is cold outside. And I mean COLD. I don't know how my fingers are still functioning from having to be outside. Yeah I know it's not the midwest, but you could've warned someone and not give me two 60+-degree days and then slap me in the face with 32mph gusts of COLD. Luckily I'm not in a snow globe... yet.

This is what three almost 12-hour days in a row looks like.

Shush. I know it's been eight years.

Today was an... interesting day.
It went from sleeping, to apple cinnamon waffles, to irritated, to adventures, to glee, to crazys, to Boston and New York equaling Philadelphia.
During this, I was sorted into Hufflepuff - super excited about that one, fuck you Robert Pattinson.
Speaking of Harry Potter, I am creating my own Harry Potter Weekend without the help of ABCFamily. "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" Part Uno comes out Friday@Midnight. So Bri, Kaysie, Miguel, and I are going to be one of the many humans waiting in line to see the movie the nanosecond it is in theatres. Then Saturday, Kaysie's dad (my lover from another life) is picking me up at my place of business  to drive me to their in the middle of Pennsylvania to chill out with them and see Harry Potter again! Should be epic.

In other news from the day, the short topic of discussion was about dollars in my life that I don't have.
1. If I had an extra $2000 hanging out, I would not use it to get serious, above-life shots for my movie. I would use this handy $2000 to buy some clothes. People who know may think I don't need such items, but I am in the mood to be found attractive, so I'd spend it to be pretty.
2. If I came into tens of thousands of dollars, I would get a boob job. Now I am not talking about a crazy I have to buy brand new bras boob job, more like an enhancement so that I could have that crazy thing women have called cleavage and fill out my bras.

My uncles have a chicken farm and gave me fresh eggs. They are mini and brown and green. They scare me. Is that weird? I don't think so. But it apparently makes me a freak.

AAAAAAaaaannnnddddd...
That's all I have tonight.
Oh, if you by chance are a restaurant and like fundraisers, holla.

Rouge dinosaur Kaysie and I captured.

More frizz than cleavage.

Have I waited too long 2CU?

(link)

Hey, I know what you're thinking, it's been a week and I haven't degraded myself or made fun of anything or talked about Joe Jonas, but my blogging has been regulated, and suddenly I have nothing to say. I guess it's the punk inside of me rebelling against authority.

My Brain: boysboysboysboys.

Last Thursday was the strangest day for boy behavior, but don't worry, I figured it out. There was a full moon on Friday. Apparently, boys are like dogs and get really weird around full moons. It's whatever. I have the giggles.

Believe it or not I do yoga. I enjoy the pain of a twist and I love pushing myself stubborn so I won't give up no matter how much my body shakes and I begin to sweat. I did yoga in my high school gym class as a sophomore and people were amazed at how well I could bend and twist, but it was normal for me. I was a crazy cheerleader in my past, so bending my body wasn't unfamiliar to me. I excelled in class, even lost some much needed weight, up until I hurt my knee and practically failed gym. But I started yoga again last spring semester and it has been amazing. Every Tuesday at 10 when I walk out of that dance studio I feel like the LIttle Mermaid when she first gets her legs. Today, with it's fall-like weather, reminded me of my favorite feeling included in yoga. When I started yoga again in January it was obviously cold outside, so I would fall out of bed at 8 AM and bundle up in my sweats and walk to the studio shivering. Once that studio door closes the room gets STUFFY really quick. Sure, we could open the windows but then the city noises aren't muffled anymore. When I roll out of corpse, ohm, and nameste and walk back outside - that cold air is the best feeling on my cheeks. I would walk out in the middle of freezing February without a jacket. The cold wind flushing my cheeks out and giving my arms and legs goosebumps was a reward for my yoga practice - I didn't give up today. This morning, I felt that. My body shook, I relaxed my jaw, I stayed calm, and I made it to the end. "Finding the place between comfort and effort." Feeling the fall breeze on my face with my hair flying back and whipping in the wind, it reminded me why I wake up at 8 in the morning to go to yoga.

On Sunday I started my new job - holy shit. I was tired and worn out but still excited. I'm not nervous or confused, but I don't know what's going on. Today I will walk in there and not know anything at all. It's weird. I don't know how to explain it, but I'm not worried I won't be good at it - eventually OCD will go into overdrive. All I know is that this job kicks my ass! I need like a full body massage, a bubble bath, and some chocolate chip pancakes.

It's kind of sad, but irony doesn't hang out with me. But I was given an irony from a friend in one of her classes. One of her classmates doesn't lock his doors at night because he lives in a safe neighborhood, but he sleeps with a loaded gun on his nightstand every night.

Favorite Day of the Week: Monday

Least Favorite Day of the Week: Wednesday

Longest Day of the Week: Tuesday

See, sometimes I look like a decent human being.

(It's only on Friday nights when I'm home alone)