Karma
Current mood: chipper
Bad shit happens. I don't like it when bad shit happens to good people. That tends to be the case most of the time.
When you're a good person and bad shit happens to you, if you wait long enough, something good will happen -- or something bad will happen if someone has wronged you. Yes, I believe in revenge and think forgiveness is a crock of shit. I'm not going to forgive you if you've wronged me. You can apologize and I'll think about it. I'm not going to seek revenge despite what you may hear. I know you'll get taken care of. Little things like getting fat and not being able to see your penis, or knowing that it's a matter of time before you cheat on her and move onto the next one; that's the stuff worth waiting for.
Karma can be even more satisfying if you see the bad shit coming and you dodge it. When the Spidey sense tingles and you listen -- even if it means slinking off and licking your wounds. It's better than sitting there and getting screwed.
I'm going to be intentionally vague about this because you have to be when you're discussing the Karma Bunny. KB knows who needs the kick in the balls. Silent pleas work better than myspace blogs. I'm also going to be vague because I'm thinking of a few folks who are getting served.
What comes around, goes around. It's that simple. Treat others as you wish to be treated. Reap what you sow. All of that stuff.
Yeah. You got served, bitches.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
GEEK!
In addition to being a number in a data base, in real life, I'm an honest to goodness geek. I fix computers. I can set up a wireless network and recommend word processing software. I know how to pull songs off my iPod and how to rip encrypted DVDs.
And I'm a girl.
I've always been a tom-boy. I love sports, which explains the whole becoming a sports writer and sports editor thing. I love to watch sports, play, write about... yeah. I was a jock, but I wasn't a great jock. I was the kid on the college basketball team who got in if we were up big or losing by a ton. I was there because I was supportive and went all out in practice -- knowing that I wouldn't play a lot.
I own dresses, but I don't wear them. I clean up pretty nice and can do the "girlie thing" if needed. The "feminine side" is something shared with a very select few; it's far easier to be one of the guys or the girl gamer.
Yeah, I'm stating the obvious here, at least for the folks who have known me longer than there's been myspace. And there are a couple of you. I bring it up, well, because I know DJ probably needs a blog to read in the morning, and because of the weekend I had.
Saturday... work, game store, Merritt's, movie and some quality time with the man. Finally got him to see "Office Space" -- which does qualify as a geek movie because they work for a tech company. And if you're a cube dweller, there's a certain amount of geekiness that's just there by default.
Sunday... a painting contest at the game store in Nampa. Painting what, you ask? Little pewter miniatures manufactured by Reaper. You supply the primered mini and then you get an hour to paint it. Winner gets $50 in-store credit. Two of my gaming friends were entered, and they get paid to paint minis for other people. They figured one of them would win.
I'm known for painting slow. I take my time with my troop models, characters, big robots (yes, they're called "Warjacks" but it would take too long to explain
). I did pretty well... well enough that I missed first place by a point. Yeah, I should've posted pics of the mini. So not only was I one of two females, but 1) I almost won; 2) I beat my friend Sean, who's really good; 3) I did better than I thought I would; and 4) I've gotten a lot better because I'm painting minis every week. Slowly, mind you.
Monday... at the game store at 11; don't leave until 9:30 p.m. Threw paint on a few characters. Played a league game for Dogs of War and played my challenge board game against Scott in Warmachine. If you understood any of what I just typed, you're a geek too. In the Dogs of War game, I didn't win the scenario, but I killed 2 of Malik's dudes and got my leader 33 XP, which I will use to upgrade his skill set. Malik killed 2 of my guys, but only one has a wound I need to worry about. Against Scott... I lost. Tried a different army list and wasn't prepared for all of the troops he threw at me. Next time, I might bring cavalry and see how his Temple Flame Guard like being run over. And hit by lightning.
Confused? I hope most of you are. Otherwise, there's no hope. You'll have to start hanging with us at the game store on Mondays...
This doesn't even scratch the surface of being a video game geek. I have an Atari 5200 and 7800 in my closet. I have two Rubbermaid bins full of games. I have a Sega Genesis, Sega CD, Sega Master system, Sega Saturn (U.S. and Japanese version), Sega Dreamcast; NES, SNES, N64, GameCube, Nintendo DS; PS2 and tons of games for all of those systems. I'm going to buy Phantasy Star Universe when it comes out on Wednesday and reserve copies of WoW: Burning Crusade (collector's edition) and Final Fantasy XII (collector's edition as well). I RESERVE GAMES BECAUSE I WANT THEM ON THE DAY THEY COME OUT. I DO PRE-ORDERS FOR MY LITTLE ARMY MEN AS WELL.
As if that's not enough...
I worked at one of the game stores at the mall. Which led to a job at the Video Game Trading Post (if you're local and you game, get your ass in there... now!). I learned how to take apart just about everything -- GameBoys, NESs, SNES, Genesises (Genesii???), Xboxes... yeah. I can tell you the difference between S-video, composite and component, though I could do that before working retail.
But here's where being a geek paid off: I met Scott at VGTP in 2001 or 2002. He was one of my customers. And when I became single, he's the only person I wanted to go out with. We've been together ever since.
The funny thing about gamer geeks is they're usually male, and they have to convince their wife or girlfriend that gaming is a good thing. Some of them get into gaming... I know of a few wives who have taken an interest. I was the one to introduce the guys to Warmachine, and between the four of us, we have all of the factions represented. People assume Scott's the one who got me into playing; I think we both take a little bit of pleasure telling folks it was the girlfriend who got things started.
I think I had a better ending planned for this, but I'm tired and fighting a migraine. So I guess I'll turn off iTunes, log off Adium, put away my Bluetooth mouse and put my Powerbook to sleep.
And as I'm drifting off to sleep, I know I'll contemplate a new army list for facing Scott and think about the kind of character I want for Phantasy Star Universe. It's tough work being a geek, yo.
And I'm a girl.
I've always been a tom-boy. I love sports, which explains the whole becoming a sports writer and sports editor thing. I love to watch sports, play, write about... yeah. I was a jock, but I wasn't a great jock. I was the kid on the college basketball team who got in if we were up big or losing by a ton. I was there because I was supportive and went all out in practice -- knowing that I wouldn't play a lot.
I own dresses, but I don't wear them. I clean up pretty nice and can do the "girlie thing" if needed. The "feminine side" is something shared with a very select few; it's far easier to be one of the guys or the girl gamer.
Yeah, I'm stating the obvious here, at least for the folks who have known me longer than there's been myspace. And there are a couple of you. I bring it up, well, because I know DJ probably needs a blog to read in the morning, and because of the weekend I had.
Saturday... work, game store, Merritt's, movie and some quality time with the man. Finally got him to see "Office Space" -- which does qualify as a geek movie because they work for a tech company. And if you're a cube dweller, there's a certain amount of geekiness that's just there by default.
Sunday... a painting contest at the game store in Nampa. Painting what, you ask? Little pewter miniatures manufactured by Reaper. You supply the primered mini and then you get an hour to paint it. Winner gets $50 in-store credit. Two of my gaming friends were entered, and they get paid to paint minis for other people. They figured one of them would win.
I'm known for painting slow. I take my time with my troop models, characters, big robots (yes, they're called "Warjacks" but it would take too long to explain
). I did pretty well... well enough that I missed first place by a point. Yeah, I should've posted pics of the mini. So not only was I one of two females, but 1) I almost won; 2) I beat my friend Sean, who's really good; 3) I did better than I thought I would; and 4) I've gotten a lot better because I'm painting minis every week. Slowly, mind you.Monday... at the game store at 11; don't leave until 9:30 p.m. Threw paint on a few characters. Played a league game for Dogs of War and played my challenge board game against Scott in Warmachine. If you understood any of what I just typed, you're a geek too. In the Dogs of War game, I didn't win the scenario, but I killed 2 of Malik's dudes and got my leader 33 XP, which I will use to upgrade his skill set. Malik killed 2 of my guys, but only one has a wound I need to worry about. Against Scott... I lost. Tried a different army list and wasn't prepared for all of the troops he threw at me. Next time, I might bring cavalry and see how his Temple Flame Guard like being run over. And hit by lightning.
Confused? I hope most of you are. Otherwise, there's no hope. You'll have to start hanging with us at the game store on Mondays...
This doesn't even scratch the surface of being a video game geek. I have an Atari 5200 and 7800 in my closet. I have two Rubbermaid bins full of games. I have a Sega Genesis, Sega CD, Sega Master system, Sega Saturn (U.S. and Japanese version), Sega Dreamcast; NES, SNES, N64, GameCube, Nintendo DS; PS2 and tons of games for all of those systems. I'm going to buy Phantasy Star Universe when it comes out on Wednesday and reserve copies of WoW: Burning Crusade (collector's edition) and Final Fantasy XII (collector's edition as well). I RESERVE GAMES BECAUSE I WANT THEM ON THE DAY THEY COME OUT. I DO PRE-ORDERS FOR MY LITTLE ARMY MEN AS WELL.
As if that's not enough...
I worked at one of the game stores at the mall. Which led to a job at the Video Game Trading Post (if you're local and you game, get your ass in there... now!). I learned how to take apart just about everything -- GameBoys, NESs, SNES, Genesises (Genesii???), Xboxes... yeah. I can tell you the difference between S-video, composite and component, though I could do that before working retail.
But here's where being a geek paid off: I met Scott at VGTP in 2001 or 2002. He was one of my customers. And when I became single, he's the only person I wanted to go out with. We've been together ever since.
The funny thing about gamer geeks is they're usually male, and they have to convince their wife or girlfriend that gaming is a good thing. Some of them get into gaming... I know of a few wives who have taken an interest. I was the one to introduce the guys to Warmachine, and between the four of us, we have all of the factions represented. People assume Scott's the one who got me into playing; I think we both take a little bit of pleasure telling folks it was the girlfriend who got things started.
I think I had a better ending planned for this, but I'm tired and fighting a migraine. So I guess I'll turn off iTunes, log off Adium, put away my Bluetooth mouse and put my Powerbook to sleep.
And as I'm drifting off to sleep, I know I'll contemplate a new army list for facing Scott and think about the kind of character I want for Phantasy Star Universe. It's tough work being a geek, yo.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
International pissing contest and more
[warning: judgmental content ahead!]
This whole situation with North Korea, their nuke test and the U.S. reaction strike me as ludicrous. Haven't humans learned that bad shit happens when you unleash radiation on other humans?
I know deep down no one will push the button. Or rather, deep down, I hope no one will push the button. Like many military standoffs, it reminds me of a pissing contest. Or better yet, a dick-waving contest. Which brings me to the following System of a Down song. It ran through my head for much of the day.
Cigaro
System Of A Down
My cock is much bigger than yours
My cock can walk right through the door
With the feeling so pure
It's got you screaming back for
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
My shit stinks much better than yours,
My shit stinks right down through the floor.
With the feeling so pure,
It's got you coming back for
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
Can't you see that I love my cock?
Can't you see that you love my cock?
Can't you see that we love my cock?
We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
We're the propagators of all genocide
Burning through the world's resources, then we turn and hide
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
My cock is much bigger than yours,
My cock can walk right through the door
With a feeling so pure
It's got you screaming back for more!
Seeing the lyrics in print... a little weird. But if you've heard the song, you'll get what I'm talking about.
* * *
Filled up the Civic tonight. Made chit-chat with the clerk at the Maverick. On my way out, another woman came into the store. She was pregnant... maybe 7-8 months along. She came in to buy a Camel hardpack.
Live your life the way you want. If you want to kill yourself, do drugs, fuck up, fine. That's your choice. Crack? Meth? Heroin? I guess everyone has to die of something. But if you're pregnant and you do that shit... I don't get it. You're fucking with YOUR CHILD. If cigarettes cause cancer in just about everything, how can that shit be good for a baby? I mean really. "Oh, it's OK if I smoke a few a day." Who the fuck came up with that shit? Phillip-Morris? Liggett? Does your doctor look like the goddamned Marlboro Man (who, btw, died of cancer).
Adults make choices. Mothers should know better. Yeah, that's me being judgmental.
* * *
Since I'm bitching...
There are some people who don't deserve to be alive. OK, there are lots. I'm not promoting genocide or war on anyone who pissed off Jen (now there's an idea....). I'm thinking of someone specific. Someone who shouldn't be a parent based on how he/she treats his/her offspring.
If you have, in your possession, something your child values, and the child would like it shipped, wouldn't you ship it in a timely manner? Wouldn't you want your child to be happy? And when you finally shipped off the item(s), since you know the child values it, you'd pack up nice and neat and make sure everything got there in one piece, right?
This is where the questionable parenting comes in. Ships it, doesn't give a shit how it arrives. Child is happy package is received, but there's substantial damage. Child is able to repair damage to items, but the emotional damage is done.
What kind of parent does something like that? The kind who needs to slide under a gas truck and taste his/her own blood.
I warned you I was being judgmental tonight. Looks like a tad bitter, too.
This whole situation with North Korea, their nuke test and the U.S. reaction strike me as ludicrous. Haven't humans learned that bad shit happens when you unleash radiation on other humans?
I know deep down no one will push the button. Or rather, deep down, I hope no one will push the button. Like many military standoffs, it reminds me of a pissing contest. Or better yet, a dick-waving contest. Which brings me to the following System of a Down song. It ran through my head for much of the day.
Cigaro
System Of A Down
My cock is much bigger than yours
My cock can walk right through the door
With the feeling so pure
It's got you screaming back for
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
My shit stinks much better than yours,
My shit stinks right down through the floor.
With the feeling so pure,
It's got you coming back for
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
Can't you see that I love my cock?
Can't you see that you love my cock?
Can't you see that we love my cock?
We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
We're the propagators of all genocide
Burning through the world's resources, then we turn and hide
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
CIGARO CIGARO CIGAR
My cock is much bigger than yours,
My cock can walk right through the door
With a feeling so pure
It's got you screaming back for more!
Seeing the lyrics in print... a little weird. But if you've heard the song, you'll get what I'm talking about.
Filled up the Civic tonight. Made chit-chat with the clerk at the Maverick. On my way out, another woman came into the store. She was pregnant... maybe 7-8 months along. She came in to buy a Camel hardpack.
Live your life the way you want. If you want to kill yourself, do drugs, fuck up, fine. That's your choice. Crack? Meth? Heroin? I guess everyone has to die of something. But if you're pregnant and you do that shit... I don't get it. You're fucking with YOUR CHILD. If cigarettes cause cancer in just about everything, how can that shit be good for a baby? I mean really. "Oh, it's OK if I smoke a few a day." Who the fuck came up with that shit? Phillip-Morris? Liggett? Does your doctor look like the goddamned Marlboro Man (who, btw, died of cancer).
Adults make choices. Mothers should know better. Yeah, that's me being judgmental.
Since I'm bitching...
There are some people who don't deserve to be alive. OK, there are lots. I'm not promoting genocide or war on anyone who pissed off Jen (now there's an idea....). I'm thinking of someone specific. Someone who shouldn't be a parent based on how he/she treats his/her offspring.
If you have, in your possession, something your child values, and the child would like it shipped, wouldn't you ship it in a timely manner? Wouldn't you want your child to be happy? And when you finally shipped off the item(s), since you know the child values it, you'd pack up nice and neat and make sure everything got there in one piece, right?
This is where the questionable parenting comes in. Ships it, doesn't give a shit how it arrives. Child is happy package is received, but there's substantial damage. Child is able to repair damage to items, but the emotional damage is done.
What kind of parent does something like that? The kind who needs to slide under a gas truck and taste his/her own blood.
I warned you I was being judgmental tonight. Looks like a tad bitter, too.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Baggage
I've been pretty baggage free for the past year or two now. I'm happier than I've ever been -- not because I've finally been able to buy a house or have a high-paying job, but because I'm being me, I've got a great man in my life and some kick-ass friends.
This Saturday was six years to the day I got married. When I got divorced in 2004, I counted the days until that anniversary. In 2005, I had an idea it was coming. This year, I think it might've been around 3 a.m. when I looked at the date and it registered. It's not even a blip any more.
But here are a few journal entries for historical perspective. The first is from Oct. 10, 2004.
Settling?
Still in a bit of an odd mood tonight. I think there could be hormones involved. Anyway, feeling more introspective than usual and felt the need to inflict this stuff on my audience. I'll try to keep this from getting too .. heavy .. but who knows.
In the course of e-mailing a dear friend tonight, I stumbled across something that I've been avoiding, something I haven't wanted to admit. This might not even be the time to go into it, but I'm thinking about it, and I do need to address it at some point, if only for my mental health and getting closure.
I've glossed over why my marriage didn't work out; I've shared some of my thoughts with one person, maybe two. I don't know the root cause, I don't have the answers. But if there's one thing that getting into a relationship has shown, it's that things weren't quite right in married life. And I'm trying to be diplomatic about this, trying to be ... detached. So we'll see how that goes. We'll play a little game of "compare and contrast." Oh, but how to begin?
Let's start out by saying I believe in marriage. When you get married, it's forever. It's a promise, it's something I took seriously, it's something I wanted to do just once in my life. I'm certain we got married for the right reasons. I don't know that we divorced for the right reasons, but what's done is done. I can't change that, I and I wouldn't go back. Not with what I know now, not with what I've been through and where I am in my life. Hell no.
Somewhere along the way, something changed. Was it because we were comfortable with each other? Took each other for granted? The ex mentioned how "the spark" was gone. Well, the argument against that is the spark is what brings you together; true love keeps you together. Relationships are give and take; they aren't always easy, they aren't always pleasant. But if you really do love someone, you figure out a way to make it work. Yet that only happens if both parties feel that way. One person believing that won't get it done, especially if the other person has given up, or thinks they've found something better. Believe me, I tried. In the end, it was easier to give up. More on that in a bit.
At the beginning of many relationships, the physical stuff takes precedent. It's new, it's exciting (I call it the "ooooh, shiny!" syndrome). The newness wears off. If it was only physical, chances are that when the novelty has worn off, both people will move on. A booty call is a booty call. If there's a deeper connection, then you're looking at something long term, something that could last for months, years, even forever. You need common interests, personalities that get along. You need trust and a willingness to work toward keeping the relationship alive. So where was I going with this, I wonder .. and how can I do this without getting myself in trouble? (not really trouble, I guess .. I'm not writing anything here I wouldn't discuss, it's just that some of this is still a little difficult to talk about. Anyway.)
When the ex and I got together, it was fun, exciting, we spent a ton of time together. The physical stuff, well, yeah, there was a lot of that. He was 32 and I was 26. That really was a lifetime ago. We spent a ton of time together since we worked together and he ended up moving in since (big red warning lights) he was leaving his wife. Marriage was on the rocks from the beginning, he'd been unhappy for a long time, yadda yadda yadda. Awfully familiar, right? Yeah. Maybe I had it coming.
You know, a detailed analysis of my relationship with the ex is going to get boring in a hurry. That, and the fact I've chosen to forget some of the details and other details have faded. I've gotten a pretty good idea of what was missing. I guess it's easier for me to focus on the things that are going well with the current relationship than dredge up ghosts. Yes, I'm still avoiding it. But I think I can still make my point.
I'm a detail person (eh, really?). I can see the big picture, but I have an appreciation of the little things. Case in point: A touch, a look, a smile can convey a feeling like love without even saying those three words. I used to do that with the ex and it was rarely, if ever reciprocated (red flashing lights, anyone?). He wasn't much of a "touch" person. Hugs, holding hands, that was something he really started doing with me. The other stuff, like if I just touched him while we were watching TV or something, he didn't like that. Current situation is very different than with the ex. Communicating without words is a fine and subtle art, and it works a lot better when people aren't shrugging you off or acting like they're annoyed by it. There's a lot to be said for feeling appreciated.
It might not be a great example. It's certainly not one that would hold up in court. But I think it shows a resignation on my part to not do those things with the ex. I wasn't being oppressed, but I wasn't being true to myself. I don't know that I've really been true to myself until recently. I know I haven't been this happy in a long time. I've got a new sense of freedom since .. falling in love. And I'm sorry that sounds trite. But honestly, I'm happy to have found someone I feel comfortable with. I can say crazy (or stupid :-P) things, I can tell horrible jokes, or I can be a geek. I guess with the ex, I started to hold back some things because I didn't want to appear stupid. I don't even know where I'm going with this any more.
Ah. The title of this entry. I do need an editor to keep me on topic. Did I settle? Yes and no.
In the beginning, when things were new, no, there was no settling. I didn't settle on my wedding day. But whenever "the spark" (his word, not mine) faded, then yes, I did. I accepted the routine, I accepted the fact we didn't do certain things or act like other couples; a good friend said that if you saw the two of us in a room, you'd never know we were married. This has been confirmed by at least one other person. All I can say to that is, what the fuck? What happened? Why did we give off that appearance? Oh, non-verbal communication, or lack thereof. It goes deeper than "if you loved me you'd hold my hand" but I could be onto something here. I know what I felt toward him, but I know that if I did those little things -- a hand on his shoulder, whatever -- in a group setting, it made him uncomfortable. What the hell does that say? Yeah, that something was fucked up and neither of us wanted to address it. Now I remember why I haven't taken a closer look at this: Because in my twisted little world, it makes me feel inadequate as a wife and as a female. The rational part of me knows this isn't true, but the visceral part -- and let's not forget my ego -- feels differently. The feeling of rejection rears its ugly head after a long absence. But it adds up, I guess. If he didn't want to do the little things that are so important to me, it shouldn't have been surprising when he told me he didn't love me. Yes, this is the scary shit I write about at 3 a.m. Until now, it had been locked away in the journal I haven't shared with anyone, where I don't even want to read past entries. But here it is. And to once again answer the question, yes I did settle. I settled and I wanted to make it work, thought I could make it work, thought it should work. And in the end, it turns out I'm so much better off today without him. Should I mention yet again how happy I am, or is that starting to get sickening? Cut me some slack; I'm not even to the four-month mark yet. But what used to be the anniversary is Thursday... I'll burn that bridge when I get to it I guess...
I'm not sure what this proved, other than the fact that maybe I really am nuts and you people are too polite to tell me I'm nuts. It did feel good to write this stuff. But maybe i just need to leave it in the past and keep moving forward -- mindful of history, but definitely focused on what each new day brings. I may be nuts, but hell if I haven't turned into an optimist.
Posted: Sun - October 10, 2004 at 03:20 AM
It's really easy for me to say I settled, especially given how the relationship with Scott has progressed. I have gotten more out of our relationship in two years than I did in the nearly four years I was married to dipshit. Amazingly, the anger and the bitterness are more like background noise now, instead of being at the forefront and drowning out everything else in my life. Yes, I admit I'm still a bitter person at times. We all have that capacity. But I choose when to let that out; in the past, I really didn't have a say.
Time for another entry. This one is from Oct. 14, 2004
No, "just friends" doesn't work
Almost two months ago, someone who has become near and dear to me said something I should've taken to heart a lot sooner. Heck, a lot of people said the same thing but I didn't want to hear it. I'm stubborn, not stupid I guess ..
"Let's be friends."
The death knell to many a relationship. You have romantic aspirations and your object of desire doesn't feel the same. Or you're romantically involved and "all of a sudden" your partner isn't in love with you and wants to be "just friends." Guess what? That shit doesn't work. Nope. Not at all. Forget it. If it does, it takes months, even years. Hell, my parents didn't really become friends after their divorce until several years later, and it took a traumatic, life-changing event involving my dad for that to happen. Time has a way of sorting things out I guess. Time lets anger subside, it dulls the pain. Memories fade. With some things.
Nearly four months later, a lot of what I felt has begun to fade. There was a time I wanted to remember all of it; I didn't want to forget what I was feeling so I could prevent it from happening again. But a few things happened and changed that: I realized the only times I thought or talked about the ex, it was negative. I realized he wasn't a friend, and stopped thinking of him as one. Best of all, a wonderful guy became... more than a friend.
I have very strong feelings regarding friendship. I've said that I'm loyal to the point of stupidity, which explains my reluctance to listen to people about being friends with the ex. I'll do whatever is within my means to help you if you need a hand. It's just the way I am. I'm very passionate about my friends and people who are close to me. I can be overly protective. Stubbornness and the fact I don't do things half way... it can be an odd combination at times. Hell, I'm this way with folks I know through the internet (not strangers; I've got a few friends I've known for several years only through e-mail, discussion boards and chatting).
So it shouldn't be any surprise that I took all of this loyalty and passion and figured it would be there for the ex when everything was said and done. After all, he said when the divorce was final, we could hang out and be friends again, right? He said he wanted to stay friends, and well, if you're my friend, you're not going to lie to me, right? Right?
Well fuck that. We know how this story goes.
Lying to me, or a lie by omission are the same thing. Being treated like shit doesn't rate too high in my book, either. Generally being an asshole scores quite low too. So that whole thing about being friends? How about taking a flying fuck through a rolling doughnut? That seems to fit a lot better.
I have no intention of being friends with the ex-person (I can't claim this gem; Scott gets all the credit... heh). Right now, I don't even want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want him in my life. But here I am, on what would've been my fourth wedding anniversary, writing a journal entry about how I basically despise the man who -- just five months ago -- was still the love of my life and my true love.
Sweet Jesus. What. The. Fuck.
It's good to be jaded and cynical again. I was filled with the touchy-feely "must get over this" good vibes for awhile there. Oh, I definitely needed to be there. I needed to shove away the bitterness long enough to know it wouldn't consume me. But now that I'm actually feeling good about life again, hey, it's back. I'm a little rusty, but I think I'll manage. Being back in a newsroom helps with the cynicism. And realizing what a cock wrangler the ex is helps a great deal. I don't want his love, I don't want his friendship. When -- or if -- I want to be friends, I'll let him know.
And it feels good to have *real* friends. I've got a move coming up, and I was surprised to see how many people offered to help. It&..39;s been, "Oh, I've got a truck. I should be able to help that day. Let me know." I've only had one person say he wouldn't be able to help, and that's because he's already helped two friends move. I wasn't going to ask him, but still. These folks stepped up before I mentioned there would be Krispy Kremes that morning and steak and beer that evening. I don't need him or his friendship. It's taken me a long time to realize I don't need him any more. That's actually a big step for me.
Yes, a lot of this goes back to me having someone in my life. Anything I write about that is going to come off sounding trite, and I don't want to diminish it. I know what I feel, I know that it's different than what I felt with the ex. It's hard to explain without making it sound like I made a mistake getting married (I still maintain I didn't) or that I've placed all kinds of unrealistic expectations on my current situation. No and no. I'm in love; what else can I say? Once again getting into complicated territory near 4 a.m. You'd think I'd learn.
Anyway, the point is, no, friends with the ex-person won't work. I don't want it to work, certainly not now. Things are pretty OK in my world right now without him, and I suspect that will continue to be the case. Far more enjoyable to focus positive energy on my guy than put any effort into feeling anything toward the ex. Husband? I was married? Heh.
You were right, and I have the e-mail to prove it. Thanks, babe.
Posted: Thu - October 14, 2004 at 03:59 AM
I don't mention the ex-person a whole lot any more. If I mention him, he's the subject of ridicule, as is often the case when you talk about exes. I haven't seen or spoken to him in about 2 years now, don't have any desire to do so. I don't want to be his friend. And the insecure part of me doesn't want to be reminded of failure, because ultimately, that's what the marriage was. The pain has faded enough where I can make fun of it. And I've had enough good times since then to forget the ones I had when I was married... although typing that sentence reminded me of two trips back to the Bay Area. Those are good memories. But they're fleeting. The best memories from the last trip... those include my mom and grandparents. I've grown more indifferent -- maybe even apathetic -- toward the ex. I don't waste energy despising him. I've actually got faith the Karma Bunny will ki kick him in the balls when the time is right.
More importantly, I don't need labels when it comes to my current relationship. With the marriage, we were always talking about how we were best friends, how he was the love of my life. I don't think that's ever happened with Scott and me. He's so much more to me than a label. It goes without saying that he's my best friend -- he's the one person I share everything with -- good or bad. I don't need to say he's the love of my life or that there will never be another because I'm living my life in a way that should make that obvious. He knows how I feel, I know how he feels. That wasn't always the case when I was married.
So why dredge up 2-year-old journal entries? To bore my audience, of course. Seriously, it's a measuring stick -- I guess I want to see if I've progressed, if I've learned anything. There are just a handful of folks who have been with me through the whole ordeal. About a year after my divorce, a good friend decided it was time to end her marriage. One of her recent blogs is what got me thinking of my old entries because she posted excerpts from her old journal. She's come a long way; she got out of newspapers and now she's trying to decide where she wants to work on her doctorate. It's hard to see the progress when you're engulfed by chaos and don't know which way is up.
I think what this proves, at least to myself, is that time does have a way of taking care of things. And that when you take care of you, things have a way of falling into place. That's the biggest lesson I've taken away from all this.
Anyway, before this gets any longer, and more boring...
This Saturday was six years to the day I got married. When I got divorced in 2004, I counted the days until that anniversary. In 2005, I had an idea it was coming. This year, I think it might've been around 3 a.m. when I looked at the date and it registered. It's not even a blip any more.
But here are a few journal entries for historical perspective. The first is from Oct. 10, 2004.
Settling?
Still in a bit of an odd mood tonight. I think there could be hormones involved. Anyway, feeling more introspective than usual and felt the need to inflict this stuff on my audience. I'll try to keep this from getting too .. heavy .. but who knows.
In the course of e-mailing a dear friend tonight, I stumbled across something that I've been avoiding, something I haven't wanted to admit. This might not even be the time to go into it, but I'm thinking about it, and I do need to address it at some point, if only for my mental health and getting closure.
I've glossed over why my marriage didn't work out; I've shared some of my thoughts with one person, maybe two. I don't know the root cause, I don't have the answers. But if there's one thing that getting into a relationship has shown, it's that things weren't quite right in married life. And I'm trying to be diplomatic about this, trying to be ... detached. So we'll see how that goes. We'll play a little game of "compare and contrast." Oh, but how to begin?
Let's start out by saying I believe in marriage. When you get married, it's forever. It's a promise, it's something I took seriously, it's something I wanted to do just once in my life. I'm certain we got married for the right reasons. I don't know that we divorced for the right reasons, but what's done is done. I can't change that, I and I wouldn't go back. Not with what I know now, not with what I've been through and where I am in my life. Hell no.
Somewhere along the way, something changed. Was it because we were comfortable with each other? Took each other for granted? The ex mentioned how "the spark" was gone. Well, the argument against that is the spark is what brings you together; true love keeps you together. Relationships are give and take; they aren't always easy, they aren't always pleasant. But if you really do love someone, you figure out a way to make it work. Yet that only happens if both parties feel that way. One person believing that won't get it done, especially if the other person has given up, or thinks they've found something better. Believe me, I tried. In the end, it was easier to give up. More on that in a bit.
At the beginning of many relationships, the physical stuff takes precedent. It's new, it's exciting (I call it the "ooooh, shiny!" syndrome). The newness wears off. If it was only physical, chances are that when the novelty has worn off, both people will move on. A booty call is a booty call. If there's a deeper connection, then you're looking at something long term, something that could last for months, years, even forever. You need common interests, personalities that get along. You need trust and a willingness to work toward keeping the relationship alive. So where was I going with this, I wonder .. and how can I do this without getting myself in trouble? (not really trouble, I guess .. I'm not writing anything here I wouldn't discuss, it's just that some of this is still a little difficult to talk about. Anyway.)
When the ex and I got together, it was fun, exciting, we spent a ton of time together. The physical stuff, well, yeah, there was a lot of that. He was 32 and I was 26. That really was a lifetime ago. We spent a ton of time together since we worked together and he ended up moving in since (big red warning lights) he was leaving his wife. Marriage was on the rocks from the beginning, he'd been unhappy for a long time, yadda yadda yadda. Awfully familiar, right? Yeah. Maybe I had it coming.
You know, a detailed analysis of my relationship with the ex is going to get boring in a hurry. That, and the fact I've chosen to forget some of the details and other details have faded. I've gotten a pretty good idea of what was missing. I guess it's easier for me to focus on the things that are going well with the current relationship than dredge up ghosts. Yes, I'm still avoiding it. But I think I can still make my point.
I'm a detail person (eh, really?). I can see the big picture, but I have an appreciation of the little things. Case in point: A touch, a look, a smile can convey a feeling like love without even saying those three words. I used to do that with the ex and it was rarely, if ever reciprocated (red flashing lights, anyone?). He wasn't much of a "touch" person. Hugs, holding hands, that was something he really started doing with me. The other stuff, like if I just touched him while we were watching TV or something, he didn't like that. Current situation is very different than with the ex. Communicating without words is a fine and subtle art, and it works a lot better when people aren't shrugging you off or acting like they're annoyed by it. There's a lot to be said for feeling appreciated.
It might not be a great example. It's certainly not one that would hold up in court. But I think it shows a resignation on my part to not do those things with the ex. I wasn't being oppressed, but I wasn't being true to myself. I don't know that I've really been true to myself until recently. I know I haven't been this happy in a long time. I've got a new sense of freedom since .. falling in love. And I'm sorry that sounds trite. But honestly, I'm happy to have found someone I feel comfortable with. I can say crazy (or stupid :-P) things, I can tell horrible jokes, or I can be a geek. I guess with the ex, I started to hold back some things because I didn't want to appear stupid. I don't even know where I'm going with this any more.
Ah. The title of this entry. I do need an editor to keep me on topic. Did I settle? Yes and no.
In the beginning, when things were new, no, there was no settling. I didn't settle on my wedding day. But whenever "the spark" (his word, not mine) faded, then yes, I did. I accepted the routine, I accepted the fact we didn't do certain things or act like other couples; a good friend said that if you saw the two of us in a room, you'd never know we were married. This has been confirmed by at least one other person. All I can say to that is, what the fuck? What happened? Why did we give off that appearance? Oh, non-verbal communication, or lack thereof. It goes deeper than "if you loved me you'd hold my hand" but I could be onto something here. I know what I felt toward him, but I know that if I did those little things -- a hand on his shoulder, whatever -- in a group setting, it made him uncomfortable. What the hell does that say? Yeah, that something was fucked up and neither of us wanted to address it. Now I remember why I haven't taken a closer look at this: Because in my twisted little world, it makes me feel inadequate as a wife and as a female. The rational part of me knows this isn't true, but the visceral part -- and let's not forget my ego -- feels differently. The feeling of rejection rears its ugly head after a long absence. But it adds up, I guess. If he didn't want to do the little things that are so important to me, it shouldn't have been surprising when he told me he didn't love me. Yes, this is the scary shit I write about at 3 a.m. Until now, it had been locked away in the journal I haven't shared with anyone, where I don't even want to read past entries. But here it is. And to once again answer the question, yes I did settle. I settled and I wanted to make it work, thought I could make it work, thought it should work. And in the end, it turns out I'm so much better off today without him. Should I mention yet again how happy I am, or is that starting to get sickening? Cut me some slack; I'm not even to the four-month mark yet. But what used to be the anniversary is Thursday... I'll burn that bridge when I get to it I guess...
I'm not sure what this proved, other than the fact that maybe I really am nuts and you people are too polite to tell me I'm nuts. It did feel good to write this stuff. But maybe i just need to leave it in the past and keep moving forward -- mindful of history, but definitely focused on what each new day brings. I may be nuts, but hell if I haven't turned into an optimist.
Posted: Sun - October 10, 2004 at 03:20 AM
It's really easy for me to say I settled, especially given how the relationship with Scott has progressed. I have gotten more out of our relationship in two years than I did in the nearly four years I was married to dipshit. Amazingly, the anger and the bitterness are more like background noise now, instead of being at the forefront and drowning out everything else in my life. Yes, I admit I'm still a bitter person at times. We all have that capacity. But I choose when to let that out; in the past, I really didn't have a say.
Time for another entry. This one is from Oct. 14, 2004
No, "just friends" doesn't work
Almost two months ago, someone who has become near and dear to me said something I should've taken to heart a lot sooner. Heck, a lot of people said the same thing but I didn't want to hear it. I'm stubborn, not stupid I guess ..
"Let's be friends."
The death knell to many a relationship. You have romantic aspirations and your object of desire doesn't feel the same. Or you're romantically involved and "all of a sudden" your partner isn't in love with you and wants to be "just friends." Guess what? That shit doesn't work. Nope. Not at all. Forget it. If it does, it takes months, even years. Hell, my parents didn't really become friends after their divorce until several years later, and it took a traumatic, life-changing event involving my dad for that to happen. Time has a way of sorting things out I guess. Time lets anger subside, it dulls the pain. Memories fade. With some things.
Nearly four months later, a lot of what I felt has begun to fade. There was a time I wanted to remember all of it; I didn't want to forget what I was feeling so I could prevent it from happening again. But a few things happened and changed that: I realized the only times I thought or talked about the ex, it was negative. I realized he wasn't a friend, and stopped thinking of him as one. Best of all, a wonderful guy became... more than a friend.
I have very strong feelings regarding friendship. I've said that I'm loyal to the point of stupidity, which explains my reluctance to listen to people about being friends with the ex. I'll do whatever is within my means to help you if you need a hand. It's just the way I am. I'm very passionate about my friends and people who are close to me. I can be overly protective. Stubbornness and the fact I don't do things half way... it can be an odd combination at times. Hell, I'm this way with folks I know through the internet (not strangers; I've got a few friends I've known for several years only through e-mail, discussion boards and chatting).
So it shouldn't be any surprise that I took all of this loyalty and passion and figured it would be there for the ex when everything was said and done. After all, he said when the divorce was final, we could hang out and be friends again, right? He said he wanted to stay friends, and well, if you're my friend, you're not going to lie to me, right? Right?
Well fuck that. We know how this story goes.
Lying to me, or a lie by omission are the same thing. Being treated like shit doesn't rate too high in my book, either. Generally being an asshole scores quite low too. So that whole thing about being friends? How about taking a flying fuck through a rolling doughnut? That seems to fit a lot better.
I have no intention of being friends with the ex-person (I can't claim this gem; Scott gets all the credit... heh). Right now, I don't even want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want him in my life. But here I am, on what would've been my fourth wedding anniversary, writing a journal entry about how I basically despise the man who -- just five months ago -- was still the love of my life and my true love.
Sweet Jesus. What. The. Fuck.
It's good to be jaded and cynical again. I was filled with the touchy-feely "must get over this" good vibes for awhile there. Oh, I definitely needed to be there. I needed to shove away the bitterness long enough to know it wouldn't consume me. But now that I'm actually feeling good about life again, hey, it's back. I'm a little rusty, but I think I'll manage. Being back in a newsroom helps with the cynicism. And realizing what a cock wrangler the ex is helps a great deal. I don't want his love, I don't want his friendship. When -- or if -- I want to be friends, I'll let him know.
And it feels good to have *real* friends. I've got a move coming up, and I was surprised to see how many people offered to help. It&..39;s been, "Oh, I've got a truck. I should be able to help that day. Let me know." I've only had one person say he wouldn't be able to help, and that's because he's already helped two friends move. I wasn't going to ask him, but still. These folks stepped up before I mentioned there would be Krispy Kremes that morning and steak and beer that evening. I don't need him or his friendship. It's taken me a long time to realize I don't need him any more. That's actually a big step for me.
Yes, a lot of this goes back to me having someone in my life. Anything I write about that is going to come off sounding trite, and I don't want to diminish it. I know what I feel, I know that it's different than what I felt with the ex. It's hard to explain without making it sound like I made a mistake getting married (I still maintain I didn't) or that I've placed all kinds of unrealistic expectations on my current situation. No and no. I'm in love; what else can I say? Once again getting into complicated territory near 4 a.m. You'd think I'd learn.
Anyway, the point is, no, friends with the ex-person won't work. I don't want it to work, certainly not now. Things are pretty OK in my world right now without him, and I suspect that will continue to be the case. Far more enjoyable to focus positive energy on my guy than put any effort into feeling anything toward the ex. Husband? I was married? Heh.
You were right, and I have the e-mail to prove it. Thanks, babe.
Posted: Thu - October 14, 2004 at 03:59 AM
I don't mention the ex-person a whole lot any more. If I mention him, he's the subject of ridicule, as is often the case when you talk about exes. I haven't seen or spoken to him in about 2 years now, don't have any desire to do so. I don't want to be his friend. And the insecure part of me doesn't want to be reminded of failure, because ultimately, that's what the marriage was. The pain has faded enough where I can make fun of it. And I've had enough good times since then to forget the ones I had when I was married... although typing that sentence reminded me of two trips back to the Bay Area. Those are good memories. But they're fleeting. The best memories from the last trip... those include my mom and grandparents. I've grown more indifferent -- maybe even apathetic -- toward the ex. I don't waste energy despising him. I've actually got faith the Karma Bunny will ki kick him in the balls when the time is right.
More importantly, I don't need labels when it comes to my current relationship. With the marriage, we were always talking about how we were best friends, how he was the love of my life. I don't think that's ever happened with Scott and me. He's so much more to me than a label. It goes without saying that he's my best friend -- he's the one person I share everything with -- good or bad. I don't need to say he's the love of my life or that there will never be another because I'm living my life in a way that should make that obvious. He knows how I feel, I know how he feels. That wasn't always the case when I was married.
So why dredge up 2-year-old journal entries? To bore my audience, of course. Seriously, it's a measuring stick -- I guess I want to see if I've progressed, if I've learned anything. There are just a handful of folks who have been with me through the whole ordeal. About a year after my divorce, a good friend decided it was time to end her marriage. One of her recent blogs is what got me thinking of my old entries because she posted excerpts from her old journal. She's come a long way; she got out of newspapers and now she's trying to decide where she wants to work on her doctorate. It's hard to see the progress when you're engulfed by chaos and don't know which way is up.
I think what this proves, at least to myself, is that time does have a way of taking care of things. And that when you take care of you, things have a way of falling into place. That's the biggest lesson I've taken away from all this.
Anyway, before this gets any longer, and more boring...
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Consume hell (with bonus rah-rah BS)
Yeah, I'm a little late posting this... Friday was a late one, and I don't have to be up too early in the morning, so here we go.
I admit that I'm a consumer whore. I like technology, I like getting things like games and CDs the day they're released, that sorta thing. So when I got the email from Gamestop on Thursday telling me that they'd be taking pre-orders for the Nintendo Wii (their new system), I figured it would be a quick trip to the mall on Friday and my system would be reserved before I had to hit the office.
Wrong.
I get there at 10:15, didn't want to seem like too big of a geek by being there when they opened the store. This is the same game store I worked at before I went to VGTP, and a lot of the same folks still work there. My turn at the counter comes, I ask about reserving a Wii (I know, that sounds dirty) and I'm told they're out.
OK. How the fuck do you run out of a reserve?
Apparently, Nintendo is releasing a TINY amount of these consoles into the wild. The assistant manager told me he expects to be getting yelled at all through Christmas. He thought it was dumb, too. I turned around and left, my parting statement: "Nintendo can bite me."
I was all set to spend money. I wanted something I wasn't sure I really wanted, and then they took it away from me -- presumably, so I'd want it more.
Wrong.
Fuck off, Nintendo. You too, Sony, with your $600 PS-fucking-3. If you can't make enough to meet demand, go to hell. Yeah, I'm bitter about this. You need to tell me why it's so worth my while to fight to get your new systems. For starters, PS3 is too god-damned expensive. I don't know enough about the technology to decide if it's worth the price tag. I was going with the Wii because it's $250 and should have some decent games -- like the new Zelda. Which I can purchase for the GameCube.
Walking out of the mall, I felt like I had been had for buying into the hype. I did it with the PS2 and the GameCube. I've still got a working PS2 and the GC hardly gets touched, but I have it for the Sega titles and some cool RPGs.
I don't need either one the day they come out. I don't have an Xbox 360, don't want one. I need a new laptop, which is what I should save my money for.
I may try and reserve a system online, I haven't decided yet. But the truth of the matter is, I play more table top war games than video games these days. Who the hell would've seen that shit coming?
For the record, this is the kind of stuff I play with. Yeah, I painted it. I'm a geek, remember?
Now for your bonus rah-rah bullshit...
This is another scene from Friday, this time, the Corp X lunch room.
The lunch room is for all employees from both projects. Our side of the building doesn't hold functions in the lunch room because well, we don't do that shit. The other side, call them Garden City Communications, uses the lunch room for their shit an awful lot.
Friday was graduation day. We actually had a class graduating from our side, they did too apparently. Their side had the head HR wench and the call center manager. Their trainer presented certificates and made speeches. He talked about how "so and so took 15 calls... and wasn't even nervous! Give up for Cletus Ray Earnhardt! Woooooooo!" He did this with everyone. He sounded like a fucking moron.
And everyone clapped. That's what Garden City Comm does... they clap for everything. "Dale Wayne Andretti just had a customer tell him he doesn't suck!! Give it up! Everybody clap, goddammit!" We can hear it on our side of the building. And we hate it.
So clap. And wear your stupid colors, and keep thinking you're better than us. We know the truth. Your ghetto performance says it all.
Besides, it won't be long before those fuckers are clapping their way out the door. Their turnover is way higher than ours.
I admit that I'm a consumer whore. I like technology, I like getting things like games and CDs the day they're released, that sorta thing. So when I got the email from Gamestop on Thursday telling me that they'd be taking pre-orders for the Nintendo Wii (their new system), I figured it would be a quick trip to the mall on Friday and my system would be reserved before I had to hit the office.
Wrong.
I get there at 10:15, didn't want to seem like too big of a geek by being there when they opened the store. This is the same game store I worked at before I went to VGTP, and a lot of the same folks still work there. My turn at the counter comes, I ask about reserving a Wii (I know, that sounds dirty) and I'm told they're out.
OK. How the fuck do you run out of a reserve?
Apparently, Nintendo is releasing a TINY amount of these consoles into the wild. The assistant manager told me he expects to be getting yelled at all through Christmas. He thought it was dumb, too. I turned around and left, my parting statement: "Nintendo can bite me."
I was all set to spend money. I wanted something I wasn't sure I really wanted, and then they took it away from me -- presumably, so I'd want it more.
Wrong.
Fuck off, Nintendo. You too, Sony, with your $600 PS-fucking-3. If you can't make enough to meet demand, go to hell. Yeah, I'm bitter about this. You need to tell me why it's so worth my while to fight to get your new systems. For starters, PS3 is too god-damned expensive. I don't know enough about the technology to decide if it's worth the price tag. I was going with the Wii because it's $250 and should have some decent games -- like the new Zelda. Which I can purchase for the GameCube.
Walking out of the mall, I felt like I had been had for buying into the hype. I did it with the PS2 and the GameCube. I've still got a working PS2 and the GC hardly gets touched, but I have it for the Sega titles and some cool RPGs.
I don't need either one the day they come out. I don't have an Xbox 360, don't want one. I need a new laptop, which is what I should save my money for.
I may try and reserve a system online, I haven't decided yet. But the truth of the matter is, I play more table top war games than video games these days. Who the hell would've seen that shit coming?
For the record, this is the kind of stuff I play with. Yeah, I painted it. I'm a geek, remember?
Now for your bonus rah-rah bullshit...
This is another scene from Friday, this time, the Corp X lunch room.
The lunch room is for all employees from both projects. Our side of the building doesn't hold functions in the lunch room because well, we don't do that shit. The other side, call them Garden City Communications, uses the lunch room for their shit an awful lot.
Friday was graduation day. We actually had a class graduating from our side, they did too apparently. Their side had the head HR wench and the call center manager. Their trainer presented certificates and made speeches. He talked about how "so and so took 15 calls... and wasn't even nervous! Give up for Cletus Ray Earnhardt! Woooooooo!" He did this with everyone. He sounded like a fucking moron.
And everyone clapped. That's what Garden City Comm does... they clap for everything. "Dale Wayne Andretti just had a customer tell him he doesn't suck!! Give it up! Everybody clap, goddammit!" We can hear it on our side of the building. And we hate it.
So clap. And wear your stupid colors, and keep thinking you're better than us. We know the truth. Your ghetto performance says it all.
Besides, it won't be long before those fuckers are clapping their way out the door. Their turnover is way higher than ours.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Yeah, we all look alike
Had an interesting encounter in the ladies' room on Tuesday.
The cleaning lady's cart was parked by the door. I was washing my hands when this little brosephine pokes her head in and asks me "Is it OK if I go to the bathroom?" I shrugged and said, "I don't care." She walks into a stall and I say "I *don't* clean." She muttered something snotty and I left.
And I was pissed.
Our cleaning lady is Korean. This stupid bitch assumed that, because I was Asian, I was in there cleaning the bathroom. Then she had the nerve to take offense at me throwing attitude at her. This is why I hate people.
I don't assume that because you tall and black that you play basketball. I don't assume that because you've got big boobs and wear short skirts that you're a stripper. I don't assume that because you shave your head that you're a Neo-Nazi. See where this is going?
Then again, maybe I need to assume more. Maybe I need to assume that since you've been convicted of a felony and you deal with personnel matters that you can't be trusted. Or I need to assume that because you drive a Hummer that you've got a tiny penis and you're compensating. I should assume that corporations don't give a fuck about their employees and are out to make tons of money.
Better yet, I should assume the brosephine works for the other project in the building and is way too dumb to work for us. And because of her stupidity, she'll be out of a job soon.
Then we'll see who's out cleaning bathrooms.
The cleaning lady's cart was parked by the door. I was washing my hands when this little brosephine pokes her head in and asks me "Is it OK if I go to the bathroom?" I shrugged and said, "I don't care." She walks into a stall and I say "I *don't* clean." She muttered something snotty and I left.
And I was pissed.
Our cleaning lady is Korean. This stupid bitch assumed that, because I was Asian, I was in there cleaning the bathroom. Then she had the nerve to take offense at me throwing attitude at her. This is why I hate people.
I don't assume that because you tall and black that you play basketball. I don't assume that because you've got big boobs and wear short skirts that you're a stripper. I don't assume that because you shave your head that you're a Neo-Nazi. See where this is going?
Then again, maybe I need to assume more. Maybe I need to assume that since you've been convicted of a felony and you deal with personnel matters that you can't be trusted. Or I need to assume that because you drive a Hummer that you've got a tiny penis and you're compensating. I should assume that corporations don't give a fuck about their employees and are out to make tons of money.
Better yet, I should assume the brosephine works for the other project in the building and is way too dumb to work for us. And because of her stupidity, she'll be out of a job soon.
Then we'll see who's out cleaning bathrooms.
Sunday, October 8, 2006
Shine
This one just popped into iTunes. I mean, I know it's on the playlist I'm listening to.... add this to the list of things that make me purr. OK, technically, this could be a break-up song. But it's this line: "remember your soul is the one thing/you can't compromise" that I really like. It's a good song.
Yes, still sentimental. Deal.
Shine (iTunes Originals Version)
David Gray
I can see it in your eyes
what I know in my heart is true
that our love it has faded
like the summer run through
and we'll walk down the shoreline
one last time together
feel the wind blow our wanderin' hearts
like a feather
but who knows what's waiting
in the wings of time
dry your eyes
we're gonna go where we can shine
Don't be hiding in sorrow
or clinging to the past
with your beauty so precious
and the season so fast
and hey, no matter how cold the horizon appears
or how far the first night
when I held you near
we're gonna rise from these ashes
like a bird aflame
take my hand
we're gonna go where we can shine
(na na na na na na na na, shine)
And for all that we struggle
for all we pretend
you know, you know, you know it don't come down to nothing
except love in the end
and ours is a road
that is strewn with goodbyes
but as it unfolds
as it all unwinds
remember your soul is the one thing
you can't compromise
step out of the shadow
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine
(and look, and look)
Through the windows of midnight
moonfoam and silver
Yes, still sentimental. Deal.
Shine (iTunes Originals Version)
David Gray
I can see it in your eyes
what I know in my heart is true
that our love it has faded
like the summer run through
and we'll walk down the shoreline
one last time together
feel the wind blow our wanderin' hearts
like a feather
but who knows what's waiting
in the wings of time
dry your eyes
we're gonna go where we can shine
Don't be hiding in sorrow
or clinging to the past
with your beauty so precious
and the season so fast
and hey, no matter how cold the horizon appears
or how far the first night
when I held you near
we're gonna rise from these ashes
like a bird aflame
take my hand
we're gonna go where we can shine
(na na na na na na na na, shine)
And for all that we struggle
for all we pretend
you know, you know, you know it don't come down to nothing
except love in the end
and ours is a road
that is strewn with goodbyes
but as it unfolds
as it all unwinds
remember your soul is the one thing
you can't compromise
step out of the shadow
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine
(and look, and look)
Through the windows of midnight
moonfoam and silver
A-list
Things that make me purr, in the order they're jumping into my brain
Dinner with Scott
Cassie sleeping on my pillow
Roscoe's happy dance
Firefox 2 beta
Fish is still alive!
Warm socks
My new comforter (from Scott's mom
)
The ocean
Sunsets
High fives with Mikey
Kat's drawings
Andy's "Not My President" shirt
Kibbee and the spinning beachball
Getting done with work by 7:30!
Fires that melt giant candles
Scott singing songs he's written
Purring cats
Cheap Mexican food
Sleeping in
Staying up late
A.F.I.
Snuggling and napping
Dirty jokes
Roscoe kisses
iTunes
The weekend
Apple fritters
Photography
Painting minis
Fall
Kittens
Full moon
Relaxing
Writing
And just because I don't have enough pictures of him, we'll end on this:
Did you *really* think I didn't have enough pics of Scott? Hah.
Yeah, I'm a sentimental doofus. I'm not ashamed, and won't apologize for it. So there.
Dinner with Scott
Cassie sleeping on my pillow
Roscoe's happy dance
Firefox 2 beta
Fish is still alive!
Warm socks
My new comforter (from Scott's mom
)The ocean
Sunsets
High fives with Mikey
Kat's drawings
Andy's "Not My President" shirt
Kibbee and the spinning beachball
Getting done with work by 7:30!
Fires that melt giant candles
Scott singing songs he's written
Purring cats
Cheap Mexican food
Sleeping in
Staying up late
A.F.I.
Snuggling and napping
Dirty jokes
Roscoe kisses
iTunes
The weekend
Apple fritters
Photography
Painting minis
Fall
Kittens
Full moon
Relaxing
Writing
And just because I don't have enough pictures of him, we'll end on this:
Did you *really* think I didn't have enough pics of Scott? Hah.
Yeah, I'm a sentimental doofus. I'm not ashamed, and won't apologize for it. So there.
Friday, October 6, 2006
Good-byes
When I was an agent taking calls, I had my little circle of friends. We took breaks together, ate lunch together... we generally had similar interests. And when you're an agent taking calls at Corporation X, you often have the misfortune of believing rumors and innuendo instead of taking the time to figure things out for yourself.
Now that I'm a supervisor at Corp X, I have the advantage of being included with some of the socializing with agents, and other supervisors. I've known some of the agents since I was taking calls; some of the newer agents are on my team and I really like them a lot... they're way cool people. It's easy to interact with them and get to know them.
I don't like to use the word clique; there's definitely a group of folks who are very tight-knit and have had a lot of good times together. Since getting to know them better, they're a great bunch of folks; I hate the fact I paid attention to the rumors and the gossip. Anyway, I'm coming to the party pretty late, since I'm the newest supervisor in our part of the project. Or, it feels like I'm late because one of our cornerstones is leaving.
I didn't have this person as a trainer; didn't really start working all that closely with him until I was in a position to mentor agents in training prior to getting a team of my own. But I knew who he was, didn't know a whole lot about him. Now I know that he's the guy that's super fun to talk to, the one with the goofy grin, the dude you can talk to about everything. He's the guy I wish I had gotten to know better because tomorrow is his last day at work. This weekend, he drives back home to Ohio.
I'm torn on this one because I don't know him as well as everyone else. But sitting here, writing this, I've got that hollow feeling in my stomach and in my throat that tells me I'm going to be affected by his departure. Not knowing him as well doesn't change the fact he's a good person; dog knows Corp X needs good people.
Not really sure where else to take this... I'll have to see what the day brings. The one thing I know: Good-byes suck, so I'll keep telling myself that this is just TTFN -- ta-ta for now.
Now that I'm a supervisor at Corp X, I have the advantage of being included with some of the socializing with agents, and other supervisors. I've known some of the agents since I was taking calls; some of the newer agents are on my team and I really like them a lot... they're way cool people. It's easy to interact with them and get to know them.
I don't like to use the word clique; there's definitely a group of folks who are very tight-knit and have had a lot of good times together. Since getting to know them better, they're a great bunch of folks; I hate the fact I paid attention to the rumors and the gossip. Anyway, I'm coming to the party pretty late, since I'm the newest supervisor in our part of the project. Or, it feels like I'm late because one of our cornerstones is leaving.
I didn't have this person as a trainer; didn't really start working all that closely with him until I was in a position to mentor agents in training prior to getting a team of my own. But I knew who he was, didn't know a whole lot about him. Now I know that he's the guy that's super fun to talk to, the one with the goofy grin, the dude you can talk to about everything. He's the guy I wish I had gotten to know better because tomorrow is his last day at work. This weekend, he drives back home to Ohio.
I'm torn on this one because I don't know him as well as everyone else. But sitting here, writing this, I've got that hollow feeling in my stomach and in my throat that tells me I'm going to be affected by his departure. Not knowing him as well doesn't change the fact he's a good person; dog knows Corp X needs good people.
Not really sure where else to take this... I'll have to see what the day brings. The one thing I know: Good-byes suck, so I'll keep telling myself that this is just TTFN -- ta-ta for now.
Wednesday, October 4, 2006
OMG burrito!
Every town needs a 24-hour Mexican restaurant. A real Mexican restaurant. Not Taco Bell. I might give you Taco Cabana, but that's sketchy and the memory is dim on that one since it's been at least 10 years since I was in San Antonio (I'm old, OK??)
Anyway, the discovery of the month is Los Beto's on Fairview in Boise. They're 24 hours and have a great menu -- and the food is plentiful and cheap. I got a carne asada burrito on one of the big-ass tortillas for $3.45. Fuck Taco Bell in the ear.
This wasn't a burrito with a tiny bit of steak and tons of rice and beans. This was tortilla, a TON of steak, guacamole and pico de gallo. Sour cream would've run me a whopping 65 cents. And did I mention it tasted great too?
If I can get my ass over there in the morning, I can get a breakfast burrito for $2.75. Hey Maverick, you and those Tornados can bite me too.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pass out under the weight of the burrito I devoured.
Anyway, the discovery of the month is Los Beto's on Fairview in Boise. They're 24 hours and have a great menu -- and the food is plentiful and cheap. I got a carne asada burrito on one of the big-ass tortillas for $3.45. Fuck Taco Bell in the ear.
This wasn't a burrito with a tiny bit of steak and tons of rice and beans. This was tortilla, a TON of steak, guacamole and pico de gallo. Sour cream would've run me a whopping 65 cents. And did I mention it tasted great too?
If I can get my ass over there in the morning, I can get a breakfast burrito for $2.75. Hey Maverick, you and those Tornados can bite me too.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pass out under the weight of the burrito I devoured.
Monday, October 2, 2006
An open letter to the drug-using dipshits
Dear meth-using, no-teeth having, glue-sniffing, crack-pipe hitting, cocaine-abusing alcoholic fucktards,
You substance-abusing assholes are the reason why *I* have to show I.D. and provide my driver's license number when I go into Walgreens to buy cold medicine. I am not going to use my Aleve Cold & Sinus pills to make meth, or break it down into the components for meth. I would just like to be able to breathe at night and not have snot shooting out of my nose all day. I think this is a pretty reasonable expectation. I'd go herbal or homeopathic, but haven't found anything in a decongestant yet.
Since you freaks need to sniff, shoot-up, guzzle anything with any type of stimulant in it, honest folk like me have to put up with being scrutinized because the government is afraid I'm going to take my 2 boxes of cold pills and make illicit drugs with them.
I am not going to make drugs that smell like cat piss, let alone ingest drugs that smell like cat piss and have Drain-o and host of other poisonous shit in them. I'm not in that much of a hurry to lose my teeth and shamble down the streets of Garden City like a methed-out zombie. Fuck that.
And to the government, how much pseudoephedrine do you think I can pull out of those pills? I hate to break it to you, but I don't fall into that popular Asian stereotype of being good at math and science. I fucking hated math and science. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, then I flunked a math class or two and that dream came crashing back to earth. Me? Then I wanted to be a writer and a photographer -- things I was good at, but definitely fit in with what all the other Asian kids were doing. Cat piss on your stereotypes, bitches. No chem lab in my bathroom, got it? I'm not going to make drugs.
The only stimulants I want are caffeine and that rush you get after ... well, I'm not gonna finish that one since a lot of you know my guy and I don't kiss and tell. But most of you know what I'm talking about. That's it for stimulants for Jen. Caffeine and Scott. Maybe the occasional herbal remedy (but that's a depressant so it doesn't count the same), but that's it. And that's natural. And doesn't smell like cat piss.
The alternative is to stumble around with my head filled with snot, wheezing and shooting gooey projectiles out of my nose. Or, heaven forbid, take a day off because I'm sick and need to get better.
But hey, it's so much fun working when you feel like shit. And are forced to work because you don't have sick days. But that's a Corporation X rant for another day.
Sincerely,
Jen
No. 89628
You substance-abusing assholes are the reason why *I* have to show I.D. and provide my driver's license number when I go into Walgreens to buy cold medicine. I am not going to use my Aleve Cold & Sinus pills to make meth, or break it down into the components for meth. I would just like to be able to breathe at night and not have snot shooting out of my nose all day. I think this is a pretty reasonable expectation. I'd go herbal or homeopathic, but haven't found anything in a decongestant yet.
Since you freaks need to sniff, shoot-up, guzzle anything with any type of stimulant in it, honest folk like me have to put up with being scrutinized because the government is afraid I'm going to take my 2 boxes of cold pills and make illicit drugs with them.
I am not going to make drugs that smell like cat piss, let alone ingest drugs that smell like cat piss and have Drain-o and host of other poisonous shit in them. I'm not in that much of a hurry to lose my teeth and shamble down the streets of Garden City like a methed-out zombie. Fuck that.
And to the government, how much pseudoephedrine do you think I can pull out of those pills? I hate to break it to you, but I don't fall into that popular Asian stereotype of being good at math and science. I fucking hated math and science. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, then I flunked a math class or two and that dream came crashing back to earth. Me? Then I wanted to be a writer and a photographer -- things I was good at, but definitely fit in with what all the other Asian kids were doing. Cat piss on your stereotypes, bitches. No chem lab in my bathroom, got it? I'm not going to make drugs.
The only stimulants I want are caffeine and that rush you get after ... well, I'm not gonna finish that one since a lot of you know my guy and I don't kiss and tell. But most of you know what I'm talking about. That's it for stimulants for Jen. Caffeine and Scott. Maybe the occasional herbal remedy (but that's a depressant so it doesn't count the same), but that's it. And that's natural. And doesn't smell like cat piss.
The alternative is to stumble around with my head filled with snot, wheezing and shooting gooey projectiles out of my nose. Or, heaven forbid, take a day off because I'm sick and need to get better.
But hey, it's so much fun working when you feel like shit. And are forced to work because you don't have sick days. But that's a Corporation X rant for another day.
Sincerely,
Jen
No. 89628
An open letter to the drug-using dipshits
Dear meth-using, no-teeth having, glue-sniffing, crack-pipe hitting, cocaine-abusing alcoholic fucktards,
You substance-abusing assholes are the reason why *I* have to show I.D. and provide my driver's license number when I go into Walgreens to buy cold medicine. I am not going to use my Aleve Cold & Sinus pills to make meth, or break it down into the components for meth. I would just like to be able to breathe at night and not have snot shooting out of my nose all day. I think this is a pretty reasonable expectation. I'd go herbal or homeopathic, but haven't found anything in a decongestant yet.
Since you freaks need to sniff, shoot-up, guzzle anything with any type of stimulant in it, honest folk like me have to put up with being scrutinized because the government is afraid I'm going to take my 2 boxes of cold pills and make illicit drugs with them.
I am not going to make drugs that smell like cat piss, let alone ingest drugs that smell like cat piss and have Drain-o and host of other poisonous shit in them. I'm not in that much of a hurry to lose my teeth and shamble down the streets of Garden City like a methed-out zombie. Fuck that.
And to the government, how much pseudoephedrine do you think I can pull out of those pills? I hate to break it to you, but I don't fall into that popular Asian stereotype of being good at math and science. I fucking hated math and science. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, then I flunked a math class or two and that dream came crashing back to earth. Me? Then I wanted to be a writer and a photographer -- things I was good at, but definitely fit in with what all the other Asian kids were doing. Cat piss on your stereotypes, bitches. No chem lab in my bathroom, got it? I'm not going to make drugs.
The only stimulants I want are caffeine and that rush you get after ... well, I'm not gonna finish that one since a lot of you know my guy and I don't kiss and tell. But most of you know what I'm talking about. That's it for stimulants for Jen. Caffeine and Scott. Maybe the occasional herbal remedy (but that's a depressant so it doesn't count the same), but that's it. And that's natural. And doesn't smell like cat piss.
The alternative is to stumble around with my head filled with snot, wheezing and shooting gooey projectiles out of my nose. Or, heaven forbid, take a day off because I'm sick and need to get better.
But hey, it's so much fun working when you feel like shit. And are forced to work because you don't have sick days. But that's a Corporation X rant for another day.
Sincerely,
Jen
No. 89628
You substance-abusing assholes are the reason why *I* have to show I.D. and provide my driver's license number when I go into Walgreens to buy cold medicine. I am not going to use my Aleve Cold & Sinus pills to make meth, or break it down into the components for meth. I would just like to be able to breathe at night and not have snot shooting out of my nose all day. I think this is a pretty reasonable expectation. I'd go herbal or homeopathic, but haven't found anything in a decongestant yet.
Since you freaks need to sniff, shoot-up, guzzle anything with any type of stimulant in it, honest folk like me have to put up with being scrutinized because the government is afraid I'm going to take my 2 boxes of cold pills and make illicit drugs with them.
I am not going to make drugs that smell like cat piss, let alone ingest drugs that smell like cat piss and have Drain-o and host of other poisonous shit in them. I'm not in that much of a hurry to lose my teeth and shamble down the streets of Garden City like a methed-out zombie. Fuck that.
And to the government, how much pseudoephedrine do you think I can pull out of those pills? I hate to break it to you, but I don't fall into that popular Asian stereotype of being good at math and science. I fucking hated math and science. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, then I flunked a math class or two and that dream came crashing back to earth. Me? Then I wanted to be a writer and a photographer -- things I was good at, but definitely fit in with what all the other Asian kids were doing. Cat piss on your stereotypes, bitches. No chem lab in my bathroom, got it? I'm not going to make drugs.
The only stimulants I want are caffeine and that rush you get after ... well, I'm not gonna finish that one since a lot of you know my guy and I don't kiss and tell. But most of you know what I'm talking about. That's it for stimulants for Jen. Caffeine and Scott. Maybe the occasional herbal remedy (but that's a depressant so it doesn't count the same), but that's it. And that's natural. And doesn't smell like cat piss.
The alternative is to stumble around with my head filled with snot, wheezing and shooting gooey projectiles out of my nose. Or, heaven forbid, take a day off because I'm sick and need to get better.
But hey, it's so much fun working when you feel like shit. And are forced to work because you don't have sick days. But that's a Corporation X rant for another day.
Sincerely,
Jen
No. 89628
Sunday, October 1, 2006
Paid to work
Another dispatch from Corporation X...
We have an incredibly high absenteeism rate. It's part of the call center culture. But it's highly distressing to our client -- so much so, that they've instituted incentives to get folks to come to work.
First off, there's the unlimited OT. They want bodies in the seats. I don't blame them. We've been slammed for months and it's good for our agents to get a little bit of time between calls. Not too much, but just enough so they can catch their breath.
You'd think that paying the OT would be enough. But of course, it's not. It's a very simple job -- you come to work, you take some calls, you go home. It's not rocket science and it's not digging ditches. And I can empathize with the motivational drought. I was there. I hated going to work and did what I could to avoid being there. I got put on an attendance plan and was in danger of losing my job. But when those checks started getting to be tiny, I pulled my head out, started making work fun for me and all was good.
Even when shit was so bad that there were three of us closing the queues at night, we came to work and we got shit done. There were no extra incentives, no bonuses. Very few thank-yous.
Anyway. Fast-forward to now, when the client is freaking out and is willing to do just about anything to get agents in there. As a result, we have 3 different ways to win an iPod, cash incentives for performance, a performance-based raise and a contest we rolled out this weekend.
This contest is pretty cool. The pot started with $200 at 8 a.m. A name was drawn, and if the winner was present, they got the money. If not, the pot grew by $25 every hour. The catch was that you had to be working -- not on break, not on an unapproved break or on lunch. One of the n00bs on my team won $325, another gal won $175. Pretty simple, right?
No.
When someone offers you something above and beyond what you normally get, don't bitch about it. Don't tell me how it's unfair you weren't eligible for another incentive program, so you don't care about THE ONE THAT PUTS FREE MONEY ON YOUR PAY CHECK. I guess some people ARE as stupid as they look. Don't complain about how it's not fair you can't win if you're at lunch. Or how you should be able to win, even if your break isn't approved. Shut the fuck up. Seriously.
There was one complaint today that made sense. Chris said he was against the contest because people are paid to be there already. It's a job, you're supposed to show up, plain and simple. I agree. And yet, I found myself rationalizing the reasons why these dipshits need the incentive.
We all know Corp X doesn't pay us shit. The way I see it, if my agents can get some free cash for doing their job, then let them have it. Do I want to see some loud-mouthed loser with a false sense of entitlement win? Hell no. I want my people to be rewarded because most of them -- not all of them -- work hard, do a good job and deserve it.
But really. To bitch about free money. So if you're walking down the street and someone hands you $200, are you going to complain because they're giving you 2 $100 bills instead of a handful of 20s? I mean really. Gratitude, look it up.
Be thankful you have a job. Be thankful you work inside. Be thankful the work is fairly easy. So you get a shitty customer every now and again. They're just customers. Seriously. You'll never meet them in real life. Be polite and professional and move on to the next call.
And above all, show a little gratitude. It's only slightly more difficult than showing up to work as scheduled and doing your job.
We have an incredibly high absenteeism rate. It's part of the call center culture. But it's highly distressing to our client -- so much so, that they've instituted incentives to get folks to come to work.
First off, there's the unlimited OT. They want bodies in the seats. I don't blame them. We've been slammed for months and it's good for our agents to get a little bit of time between calls. Not too much, but just enough so they can catch their breath.
You'd think that paying the OT would be enough. But of course, it's not. It's a very simple job -- you come to work, you take some calls, you go home. It's not rocket science and it's not digging ditches. And I can empathize with the motivational drought. I was there. I hated going to work and did what I could to avoid being there. I got put on an attendance plan and was in danger of losing my job. But when those checks started getting to be tiny, I pulled my head out, started making work fun for me and all was good.
Even when shit was so bad that there were three of us closing the queues at night, we came to work and we got shit done. There were no extra incentives, no bonuses. Very few thank-yous.
Anyway. Fast-forward to now, when the client is freaking out and is willing to do just about anything to get agents in there. As a result, we have 3 different ways to win an iPod, cash incentives for performance, a performance-based raise and a contest we rolled out this weekend.
This contest is pretty cool. The pot started with $200 at 8 a.m. A name was drawn, and if the winner was present, they got the money. If not, the pot grew by $25 every hour. The catch was that you had to be working -- not on break, not on an unapproved break or on lunch. One of the n00bs on my team won $325, another gal won $175. Pretty simple, right?
No.
When someone offers you something above and beyond what you normally get, don't bitch about it. Don't tell me how it's unfair you weren't eligible for another incentive program, so you don't care about THE ONE THAT PUTS FREE MONEY ON YOUR PAY CHECK. I guess some people ARE as stupid as they look. Don't complain about how it's not fair you can't win if you're at lunch. Or how you should be able to win, even if your break isn't approved. Shut the fuck up. Seriously.
There was one complaint today that made sense. Chris said he was against the contest because people are paid to be there already. It's a job, you're supposed to show up, plain and simple. I agree. And yet, I found myself rationalizing the reasons why these dipshits need the incentive.
We all know Corp X doesn't pay us shit. The way I see it, if my agents can get some free cash for doing their job, then let them have it. Do I want to see some loud-mouthed loser with a false sense of entitlement win? Hell no. I want my people to be rewarded because most of them -- not all of them -- work hard, do a good job and deserve it.
But really. To bitch about free money. So if you're walking down the street and someone hands you $200, are you going to complain because they're giving you 2 $100 bills instead of a handful of 20s? I mean really. Gratitude, look it up.
Be thankful you have a job. Be thankful you work inside. Be thankful the work is fairly easy. So you get a shitty customer every now and again. They're just customers. Seriously. You'll never meet them in real life. Be polite and professional and move on to the next call.
And above all, show a little gratitude. It's only slightly more difficult than showing up to work as scheduled and doing your job.
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