why can't we be friends?

Guess who I ran into today at the mall? My dear "friend" Dan. I told him that Kevin told me about them going to the midnight showing of Return of the King and didn't even bother to invite me with, and I wanted to know why, given what a fan I am of both the books and the movies. Here's his excuse: he didn't bother inviting me because BECKY wanted to come with, and he knows how I feel about her. So now the girlfriend gets top billing over regular friends. I should have expected this. Well, I have been for quite some time now, actually. He feeds me the line of crap about "you'll always be special to me no matter what" and "I'll never let a girlfriend come between me and my friends because my friends mean everything to me." He lied. He could have at least ASKED. But hey--I've seen it coming. He's done quite a few things (unintentionally) to royally piss me off, but this takes the cake.

And friends, this is exactly what happens when you try to stay friends with your ex. I don't recommend it.

He tells me this when I'm on my break at work, you know, while I'm trying to relax and just be out of the store. I must have still been pretty pissed about it--I didn't even hear Ed and Zero calling for me while I was out and about in the mall. (By the way, I'm sorry I was in a rotten mood tonight. But I did appreciate you two stopping in for a bit. I needed to see a friendly face or two.)

But, like I said, I ended up going to see Return of the King by myself. EXCELLENT MOVIE.

**fin**

"This job would be great if it weren't for the customers."

Normally I was scheduled to come in to work at eight, but Jan said that since the mall is pretty much dead at eight in the morning and we have no real business (the only people who are in the mall at that time are the senior citizens who can get their power walking in around the mall's perimeter), I could come in at noon instead since I closed the night before. But it's not just that. It just seems that people are going nuts in our store. I guess the general public thinks that we are just a large toy store and it doesn't matter what they do to mess things up.

But last night was one of those nights where I was about ready to smack the living crap out of any given customer. Here are the sorts of things a customer can do to piss me off:

--talk on their cell phone while I am ringing you up. It makes me feel like you are not paying attention to the sales transaction.
--opening up a box and taking the product out to inspect it while on the sales floor. You are posing a greater risk of damaging it while taking it out than damaging it while it is on display. Plus, would it kill you to maybe ask one of us for assistance? If you want to see how it looks so damn badly, just ask a sales associate.
--leaving your trash in our store just laying on the shelves. Makes me think like you could really give a shit about our store. Don't leave half-drank cups of pop on the shelves; it can fall over and damage merchandise, and that comes out of OUR pockets instead of YOURS, when you are definitely the one responsible for it.
--ask for help when I am obviously busy ringing up a customer. Now that is just plain rude. Wait your turn.
--give me your money all rumpled and fresh out of your pocket. Learn to carry a wallet; trying to uncrumple your money to make it fit in the register is a hassle.
--if it is THIS close to Christmas, please don't call on the telephone to see if we have something in that you are looking for and if we DO have it, don't ask to have it held aside for you. What makes you think that you're so special to get this unfair advantage over the others who have actually braved the mall to do their shopping? If you have to resort to the phone, just fuckin' get on the Internet to do your shopping. (Around Halloween, a week before Halloween actually happens, whenever we get a phone call asking if we had so-and-so costumes in, I just tell them "NO" because if they waited that long to get their costumes, then chances are we don't have them in anyway.)

Commit any of these cardinal sins, and you will be up for a ass-whuppin' from me.
**fin**

(no subject)

Mom has been thinking how much better my hair would look with some blonde highlights. So she tried putting some in tonight with that Clairol Herbal Essences streaking kit.

My. Hair. Looks. Like. Shit. I want to cry so badly.

She screwed it up. In some places you can barely notice any streaking. But mainly up on top, she didn't get it close enough to the root so it looks REALLY unnatural, and it globbed up too much on the top. This is what happens when I let a woman who's hand coordination isn't all that hot anymore mess with my hair. So tomorrow I'm going to have to wear a hat at Spencer's, and maybe a kerchief or something at B&BW. I hate it. I'm going to have to stop by and pick up a thing of light brown hair dye to go over it, which I will have to do tomorrow night AFTER MIDNIGHT when I get off of B&BW. If there were a 24-hour Walgreens in Lowell, this wouldn't be a problem; I'd be there RIGHT NOW. But nooooooooooooo. I live in tbe fuckin' boonies, where all the important stuff is at least a half hour drive away from here.

Like my week couldn't get any worse. Now my hair is fucked up. Someone put me out of my misery right now, please.

**fin**

Oh, yeah, took another quiz:

Your bra is a SEXY bra!

Like you, your bra likes to titillate and tantalize.


You like see through bra's, and in the right mood you might even wear one with the nipples cut out ;)


Exploring the fine line between sexiness and slutty-ness is a favourite pastime of yours!


Another favourite pastime is bending over to pick something up you dropped "accidentally" and making sure people (guys, girls, it's all good) get a chance to look down your top and admire how sexy your bra really is.


Or more so, the package it encompasses....



What Kind of Bra Are You?

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

Interesting to know.

*edited later on
And if Mom didn't piss me off with doing my hair, she pretty much just ruined her Christmas surprise. She went out and bought the new No Doubt album for herself, the selfish beeyotch. Now I have to go out this weekend and return it, amongst all the crazy Christmas shopping. It's going to be a major hassle. So thank you, Mom, for fucking everything up.

Is there a way I can just crawl back into bed and forget this whole goddamned week never happened? I won't even get home until after midnight tomorrow, for the love of God. I have to be at Spencer's by 10, get off at 6, and be at B&BW by 8 and work till midnight. This is crazy. Maybe I can stop by the Meijer's on 41 to pick up whatever haircolor I need to fix this piece of crap.