Because everyone's in a mood haw haw haw
Okay, from what I can piece together, Season got in a tiff with my mom about her working conditions. She was unhappy that her hours were being drastically cut and my mom and sister's hours were staying pretty solid. I wasn't present during the argument, so I am not sure exactly how angry everyone got, but the subsequent conversation I had with the two of them separately leads me to believe that tensions are high.
On one hand, my mom has a very delicate financial situation. She does need the work she has (although some luxuries could probably be cut but that's neither here nor there), and her boss is putting decent effort to keep her working. She at least feels that she needs to do this, and she's being given the opportunity to.
On the other hand, Season is losing her job. She's being gradually phased out of the schedule at a job she's been working at for nearly four years. A job that she believe doesn't treat her very well. She has bills to pay just like (nearly) everyone else, and the loss of even more hours is enough to make someone worried for their financial future.
So there's really no clean way out of this. The part where everything gets particularly messy, is that it seems like mom is taking this personally. I might be wrong on this, but I can't comprehend why someone wouldn't understand a co-worker's frustration at losing their job. It doesn't seem like mom to take it so personally. I do not understand this situation, but I know that it feels pretty tense in this house right now.
I don't know why I'm writing this, I mean, there aren't really a whole lot of people who read this thing, and everyone who does either already knows or already read Season's post. I guess I just wanted to make sure I recorded my thoughts on this, and I suppose I wouldn't be too terribly upset if someone involved found it by accident.
In other news, Fallout 3 is pretty fun, and the Bloody Mess perk caused a destitute wasteland raider's head to fly vertically at a such a speed that it did not reenter this world for the four minutes I waited for it.
Edit: Everything is fine I guess!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Post-Post Modern Man
Okay I had a smoothie the other day from one of those coffee stands and I'm hooked. It sort of had the texture of a creamy slushie, except it didn't taste like Mountain Dew or burning cherries. I didn't know that coffee stands did smoothies, much less that I would enjoy one so much. It was like eating a shitton of candy except you don't feel like a slug two hours later. I suppose fruit is sort of the candy that we were intended to eat or something.
The best one I've had so far is the accidental one in whatever tiny village is in between Poulsbo and Port Townshend, they used ten frozen strawberries and a fresh banana, some yogurt, and crushed ice, and a 16 oz. cup cost $3.50. I drank it all, got two brain freezes, and felt pretty damn good for the rest of the day. It's almost like the sushi effect that I get, where about a half hour after eating a bunch of fish I just feel damn great. Except cheaper and with more sugar.
I went to a stand in-town, and so far the better one is in Whereverthefuck. The one near the bowling alley here (I'll get the name of it later) was good, but they didn't have any bananas, so they used flavoring. It still tasted good, it was just obvious that it wasn't a real banana.
I care about food a lot more than I used to. Just a few years ago I was absolutely fine with eating a pre-packaged microwavable cheeseburger-in-a-box, and now I'm eating sushi for chrissakes. Not that there's anything wrong with sushi, it's just one of those things that is frequently talked about by people who wear trenchcoats to school and talk about Sailor Moon in ways that make general society profoundly uncomfortable. I would like to take the opportunity to say that the only time I've worn a trenchcoat was because a friend of mine got one (He's allowed, he's native american and enormous(not fat)) and I wanted to wear it in a grocery store while looking menacing.
I only wish I cooked things more. When I do it's really hit or miss, either I completely fuck something up and we end up with "Alex Chips" which are overdone quesadillas that segment apart like they wished they were the Soviet Union, or I make a garlic alfredo that actually inspires visions of the lord. Practice makes perfect I guess, I just need to actually bother to do it.
The best one I've had so far is the accidental one in whatever tiny village is in between Poulsbo and Port Townshend, they used ten frozen strawberries and a fresh banana, some yogurt, and crushed ice, and a 16 oz. cup cost $3.50. I drank it all, got two brain freezes, and felt pretty damn good for the rest of the day. It's almost like the sushi effect that I get, where about a half hour after eating a bunch of fish I just feel damn great. Except cheaper and with more sugar.
I went to a stand in-town, and so far the better one is in Whereverthefuck. The one near the bowling alley here (I'll get the name of it later) was good, but they didn't have any bananas, so they used flavoring. It still tasted good, it was just obvious that it wasn't a real banana.
I care about food a lot more than I used to. Just a few years ago I was absolutely fine with eating a pre-packaged microwavable cheeseburger-in-a-box, and now I'm eating sushi for chrissakes. Not that there's anything wrong with sushi, it's just one of those things that is frequently talked about by people who wear trenchcoats to school and talk about Sailor Moon in ways that make general society profoundly uncomfortable. I would like to take the opportunity to say that the only time I've worn a trenchcoat was because a friend of mine got one (He's allowed, he's native american and enormous(not fat)) and I wanted to wear it in a grocery store while looking menacing.
I only wish I cooked things more. When I do it's really hit or miss, either I completely fuck something up and we end up with "Alex Chips" which are overdone quesadillas that segment apart like they wished they were the Soviet Union, or I make a garlic alfredo that actually inspires visions of the lord. Practice makes perfect I guess, I just need to actually bother to do it.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Barberism
Is monday some sort of barber holiday or something? I tried to get a haircut today but literally every single barber shop and/or hair salon is closed in this town. Other than a Supercuts but the last time I went to a place like that was in the 8th grade when the lady went apeshit with some clippers and made me look like a five year old for a few months.
Come to think of it, that's when I stopped getting my hair cut for awhile. I had forgotten how big of a hair misfortune I was back in the day, until I found an old copy of alt.gen that had my picture in it.
Okay, first the haircut thing. After I was berated (honestly, it was apt, I probably would have mocked me too) for looking like my daddy lifts weights for a living, I decided that I wasn't going to deal with that shit anymore. I don't know if it was a consious decision or not, but I didn't get a haircut for a good three years after that. It's not that I have bad hair, I understand that a homosexual gentleman who cuts hair in a mall would kill his own father to bottle my color. Although I get the impression that he would have killed his dad for a milkshake or possibly an encouraging college rock song. It's just that once it got to a certain point it stopped being "messy artist" hair and spilled over into the "unkempt D&D nerd" hair territory. It also didn't help that I had a bit of a slouch and a beard that can only be described as "Celtic".
The facewarmer was pretty ridiculous, I don't recall how many times I tried to shave before I just chucked that notion in the shitterl. See, most of the general, day-to-day habits I have came from emulating television. Not out of intent, mind you, mostly out of necessity. If I took after my dad I would barely be able to understand how our economy is driven, or why there are so few native americans left, or spell. Although I'd probably be able to make a damn fine Grand Slam poached hard with extra bacon. I got off track; I had no idea how or why to shave, so I didn't. Normally this wouldn't matter. I'd just be a particularly hairy high schooler. Unfortunately, my beard wasn't really a beard, all the way. It left a couple centimeter wide gap of pristine, untouched, baby-soft skin directly under my chin. It looked like I had some obsessively powerful mutton chops. To sum up, I was not dirty, just sloppy.
Enter alt.gen. I still want to be a writer, but it bubbled forth around 10th or 11th grade, I don't remember exactly. alt.gen was a project I would love to refer to as ambitious, but unfortunately to be successful you have to take displaced high school and give them guidance, not full control over a magazine. Long story short, a cluster of ten or so nerds who I personally thought were individually talented were given a magazine to write for. Unfortunately we were also supposed to get subscriptions, market the magazine, blah blah blah. My point is that we took staff photos and I looked like a dork. I get regular haircuts now and seeing that picture made me want to get one today.
Goddamn I'm scattered. I need to get my shit together.
Come to think of it, that's when I stopped getting my hair cut for awhile. I had forgotten how big of a hair misfortune I was back in the day, until I found an old copy of alt.gen that had my picture in it.
Okay, first the haircut thing. After I was berated (honestly, it was apt, I probably would have mocked me too) for looking like my daddy lifts weights for a living, I decided that I wasn't going to deal with that shit anymore. I don't know if it was a consious decision or not, but I didn't get a haircut for a good three years after that. It's not that I have bad hair, I understand that a homosexual gentleman who cuts hair in a mall would kill his own father to bottle my color. Although I get the impression that he would have killed his dad for a milkshake or possibly an encouraging college rock song. It's just that once it got to a certain point it stopped being "messy artist" hair and spilled over into the "unkempt D&D nerd" hair territory. It also didn't help that I had a bit of a slouch and a beard that can only be described as "Celtic".
The facewarmer was pretty ridiculous, I don't recall how many times I tried to shave before I just chucked that notion in the shitterl. See, most of the general, day-to-day habits I have came from emulating television. Not out of intent, mind you, mostly out of necessity. If I took after my dad I would barely be able to understand how our economy is driven, or why there are so few native americans left, or spell. Although I'd probably be able to make a damn fine Grand Slam poached hard with extra bacon. I got off track; I had no idea how or why to shave, so I didn't. Normally this wouldn't matter. I'd just be a particularly hairy high schooler. Unfortunately, my beard wasn't really a beard, all the way. It left a couple centimeter wide gap of pristine, untouched, baby-soft skin directly under my chin. It looked like I had some obsessively powerful mutton chops. To sum up, I was not dirty, just sloppy.
Enter alt.gen. I still want to be a writer, but it bubbled forth around 10th or 11th grade, I don't remember exactly. alt.gen was a project I would love to refer to as ambitious, but unfortunately to be successful you have to take displaced high school and give them guidance, not full control over a magazine. Long story short, a cluster of ten or so nerds who I personally thought were individually talented were given a magazine to write for. Unfortunately we were also supposed to get subscriptions, market the magazine, blah blah blah. My point is that we took staff photos and I looked like a dork. I get regular haircuts now and seeing that picture made me want to get one today.
Goddamn I'm scattered. I need to get my shit together.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Relocitron
I need to move. So badly do I need to move. I have to have a place that is my own, I am very very sick of having to worry about bothering family with shenanigans, about when it is and is not acceptable to be naked, and buy some food that isn't a goddamn Special K energy granola whatever. Unfortunately! Poverty is on the upswing of fashion, and regardless of the sheer number of homes not being sold or rented, people are still huge bitches about dogs.
My sidekick is a corgi/lab/pit bull? mix who is just happy as hell to be around a person, and seems to have a good grasp on not being depressed that he's a normal-sized dog with legs that are less than a foot long. He's a good dog, he's well-mannered, housebroken to the point of embarrassment, and cleans up better than any dog I've ever known. Yet, no one seems to care. I guess everyone thinks their dog is a good dog, and renters hear that all the time regardless, but it's frustrating.
We found a place that's not only okay about pets, but that actually encourages them. Unfortunately, the place is a little smaller than I'd like, and it came up at a very inopportune time; both my fiancee and I are worried about money and future and the like at this point, so we're not sure if we're going to take it. It's admittedly a great deal, but that doesn't matter much if you're not sure about how much money you're going to have next month.
She wants to get another job, but she's got so much on her plate as is, I'd like if she had some time off. Hopefully I'll be getting some more work here pretty soon and she won't have to worry about it. Not a very eventful week, no serious crimes against humanity or anything to report about.
I lost most of the rant I had in my head a week ago about the thing where the guy yelled at kids. Oh well.
My sidekick is a corgi/lab/pit bull? mix who is just happy as hell to be around a person, and seems to have a good grasp on not being depressed that he's a normal-sized dog with legs that are less than a foot long. He's a good dog, he's well-mannered, housebroken to the point of embarrassment, and cleans up better than any dog I've ever known. Yet, no one seems to care. I guess everyone thinks their dog is a good dog, and renters hear that all the time regardless, but it's frustrating.
We found a place that's not only okay about pets, but that actually encourages them. Unfortunately, the place is a little smaller than I'd like, and it came up at a very inopportune time; both my fiancee and I are worried about money and future and the like at this point, so we're not sure if we're going to take it. It's admittedly a great deal, but that doesn't matter much if you're not sure about how much money you're going to have next month.
She wants to get another job, but she's got so much on her plate as is, I'd like if she had some time off. Hopefully I'll be getting some more work here pretty soon and she won't have to worry about it. Not a very eventful week, no serious crimes against humanity or anything to report about.
I lost most of the rant I had in my head a week ago about the thing where the guy yelled at kids. Oh well.
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