A Transformers Slumblebee on display at BotCon 2007.(Yes, I have him in triplicate. And yes, one's meant simply for snuggling. Stop laughing, dammit. I know I'm pathetic.)
Friday, October 02, 2009
Friday Photoblog: More Than Meets the Plush Edition
A Transformers Slumblebee on display at BotCon 2007.(Yes, I have him in triplicate. And yes, one's meant simply for snuggling. Stop laughing, dammit. I know I'm pathetic.)
Thursday, October 01, 2009
It Needed to be Said...
I got inspired by this thread, which I read some time ago. Rather than reply to that particular blog, I'll say my piece here. For me, this blog truly is my safe zone.
And trust me, these are things that I have needed to say. It's been a long time coming.
To (1):
Why? Why in the hell did you do it? It's been nearly 12 years and I still don't understand why in the hell you thought it was a good idea to sleep with her. I told you and told you and told you it was a bad idea, but you refused to listen. And rather than growing a pair, I didn't forbid you from seeing her. No, instead I told you to be careful. Why? Because I didn't want to be the controlling, bitchy girlfriend.
Yeah, we see where that got me.
You were one lucky bastard, when you think about it. She was a liar, manipulator and a thief: if she had been any younger you could have been picked up for statutory. You are damned lucky that she did not try and press charges against you. You know good and damned well that she tried to get one of her former "boyfriends" pitched in jail for a made-up assault and she tried like hell to defraud an insurance company.
She was crazy. She was trouble. And she fucking used you. You probably know that now. But you had to take it out on me. It was somehow my fault. Like I held a gun to your head and forced you to sleep with her. You have no one to blame but yourself.
The problem is you know this. You can't escape that fact. You're in a hell of your own creation and the only way to dull the pain is to try and bury it.
The more I think about it, the more I pity you. You truly are a sad human being.
To (2):
I was never the bitch you made me out to be. Never. You honestly believed that I was a controlling, domineering bitch but it was never true. You took his side; you never cared about all the bullshit I had gone through.
I'm still pretty pissed at you. I'll never forget one of the emails you sent me--the one that said I had "met someone and moved on". That couldn't be further from the truth. (1) cheated on me. I spent more nights than I can count crying over him. He put me through a year of complete and utter hell. But I tried my damnedest to stay by him, to try and forgive him. Yet somehow, in your mind, it's all my fault. It never mattered that (1) screwed me over, it was still all my fault.
As if that wasn't bad enough, you want to know what in the hell I did to him?! Oh, it's just so sad--he barely talks to anyone while he's online and it's all totally my fault!
Bullshit.
If you had any idea of what he put me through, you'd never want to hear his "side" of things. He repeatedly threatened suicide to keep me in order, he verbally tore apart the only friend who was standing by my side, he was claiming that I was the cause of all his problems even though he was the one who slept around. Worse, he didn't even have the balls to talk to me--he let his goddamned mother rip me a new one! The sorry coward hid behind his mother rather than face me when he ruined the plans I made for my birthday.
That was a phone call I will never forget, no matter how hard I have tried.
Yet the whole thing was my fault. I was the evil bitch. If you had lived through half the shit I did, you'd be utterly ashamed that those thoughts had ever popped into your head.
To (3):
If I had known that night at the doughnut shop would have been the last time I would ever see you, I would have told my lazy-ass coworkers to get off their fucking asses and take care of some shit while I spoke to you. I was just as surprised as you were when I found out that (1) had stopped speaking to you; I wish I could have told you why.
You would have thought it was completely stupid, just as I did. Maybe we would have had a nice long laugh over it, but who knows.
It was because you fell in love. You fell in love with the same girl that (1) had a huge boner for. Apparently, (1) was dumber than I thought: how could he get pissed off at something that really wasn't your fault? You didn't cast a love spell on her. You never tricked her into loving you. It just happened.
Try telling that to (1). You see, it was the fault of everyone else, not him. You, just like everyone else, got tangled up in his idiocy. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. But we were the ones who had to dig ourselves out of the shit pile.
I miss you. I actually miss you. I never thought I would say that. Your hyperactivity, your insane jokes, your god-awful sense of direction, I miss all that. I just hope that you are doing well, wherever you are.
To (4):
Thanks for putting up with me and my bullshit. I appreciate that.
--Weasel, hoping time really will heal these wounds.
And trust me, these are things that I have needed to say. It's been a long time coming.
To (1):
Why? Why in the hell did you do it? It's been nearly 12 years and I still don't understand why in the hell you thought it was a good idea to sleep with her. I told you and told you and told you it was a bad idea, but you refused to listen. And rather than growing a pair, I didn't forbid you from seeing her. No, instead I told you to be careful. Why? Because I didn't want to be the controlling, bitchy girlfriend.
Yeah, we see where that got me.
You were one lucky bastard, when you think about it. She was a liar, manipulator and a thief: if she had been any younger you could have been picked up for statutory. You are damned lucky that she did not try and press charges against you. You know good and damned well that she tried to get one of her former "boyfriends" pitched in jail for a made-up assault and she tried like hell to defraud an insurance company.
She was crazy. She was trouble. And she fucking used you. You probably know that now. But you had to take it out on me. It was somehow my fault. Like I held a gun to your head and forced you to sleep with her. You have no one to blame but yourself.
The problem is you know this. You can't escape that fact. You're in a hell of your own creation and the only way to dull the pain is to try and bury it.
The more I think about it, the more I pity you. You truly are a sad human being.
To (2):
I was never the bitch you made me out to be. Never. You honestly believed that I was a controlling, domineering bitch but it was never true. You took his side; you never cared about all the bullshit I had gone through.
I'm still pretty pissed at you. I'll never forget one of the emails you sent me--the one that said I had "met someone and moved on". That couldn't be further from the truth. (1) cheated on me. I spent more nights than I can count crying over him. He put me through a year of complete and utter hell. But I tried my damnedest to stay by him, to try and forgive him. Yet somehow, in your mind, it's all my fault. It never mattered that (1) screwed me over, it was still all my fault.
As if that wasn't bad enough, you want to know what in the hell I did to him?! Oh, it's just so sad--he barely talks to anyone while he's online and it's all totally my fault!
Bullshit.
If you had any idea of what he put me through, you'd never want to hear his "side" of things. He repeatedly threatened suicide to keep me in order, he verbally tore apart the only friend who was standing by my side, he was claiming that I was the cause of all his problems even though he was the one who slept around. Worse, he didn't even have the balls to talk to me--he let his goddamned mother rip me a new one! The sorry coward hid behind his mother rather than face me when he ruined the plans I made for my birthday.
That was a phone call I will never forget, no matter how hard I have tried.
Yet the whole thing was my fault. I was the evil bitch. If you had lived through half the shit I did, you'd be utterly ashamed that those thoughts had ever popped into your head.
To (3):
If I had known that night at the doughnut shop would have been the last time I would ever see you, I would have told my lazy-ass coworkers to get off their fucking asses and take care of some shit while I spoke to you. I was just as surprised as you were when I found out that (1) had stopped speaking to you; I wish I could have told you why.
You would have thought it was completely stupid, just as I did. Maybe we would have had a nice long laugh over it, but who knows.
It was because you fell in love. You fell in love with the same girl that (1) had a huge boner for. Apparently, (1) was dumber than I thought: how could he get pissed off at something that really wasn't your fault? You didn't cast a love spell on her. You never tricked her into loving you. It just happened.
Try telling that to (1). You see, it was the fault of everyone else, not him. You, just like everyone else, got tangled up in his idiocy. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. But we were the ones who had to dig ourselves out of the shit pile.
I miss you. I actually miss you. I never thought I would say that. Your hyperactivity, your insane jokes, your god-awful sense of direction, I miss all that. I just hope that you are doing well, wherever you are.
To (4):
Thanks for putting up with me and my bullshit. I appreciate that.
--Weasel, hoping time really will heal these wounds.
It Begins Again...
Transformers 3- July 1, 2011.
Just give me more Bumblebee, Mr. Bay and I'll be one happy nerdbot.
--Weasel, wondering what this will mean for BotCon 2011...
Just give me more Bumblebee, Mr. Bay and I'll be one happy nerdbot.
--Weasel, wondering what this will mean for BotCon 2011...
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Once Upon A Time...
...I worked with a young woman named Tracey.
Tracey was a new hire to the sub shop, but she walked in as if she owned the place. She was bossy and annoying; if she wasn't trying to order me around, she was constantly trying to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted or needed.
It hardly seemed fair: I had been working at this place for nearly a year, yet she was acting as if she were my supervisor. I knew better what needed to be done and how to do it, but she still acted as if she were my superior.
Even worse, she never wanted to work.
She was constantly calling me in because she was going to be late or she would be working at the convenience store or she had stubbed her little toe or something to that effect. In fact, she called me into work early on the day my great-grandmother died then acted surprised when I got upset.
When she finally started working on the convenience store side permanently, I heaved a sigh of relief. Tracey would finally be out of my hair! Or so I thought.
Instead, she would trot over to the sub shop and continually order me around and tie up our phone line. To say she was frustrating would be putting it in the nicest of terms.
But I had no idea just how vicious she could be, until one lonely Saturday night.
It was a very slow late summer Saturday night. I was working a closing shift while Tracey was working at the convenience store. I had just finished wiping down the meat slicer when out of the blue Tracey and one of our former hires asked me a question. It was one that raised my hackles immediately.
"Hey (Weasel), would you ever kiss a girl?"
My eyes narrowed. I already didn't like where this was going. "Um, how?" I asked, feeling my anger rise.
"You know, french kiss." She was giggling.
I shut my eyes and rolled them backwards in the sockets. "Um, no." I refused to play along with their game. My time was much more valuable than that.
Now, usually this would be a conversation ender. Not with Tracey. Instead she prattled on about how the "dyke" in question was absolutely in love with me, how she was drop dead gorgeous and had posed for Playboy, how she would pay me $600 just to go on a date with her. With every passing second, it got more and more outlandish. Me, I just kept shaking my head and continued with the cleaning. I had better things to do, like completing my work. But she and David* thought this was the funniest thing in the universe and continued.
When I had slipped to the backroom and started filling one of the sinks with clean dishwater, I heard a sharp squeal. "Oh my God, there she is!" Tracey shrieked, as someone walked inside.
It was Allan, one of my regular customers.
Allan and I got along wonderfully. We talked about movies, current events, life, you name it.
It was also believed that Allan was gay. To everyone else, this was an issue. To me, it was a mere trifle. Allan was a friend. That was all I needed to know.
Tracey's decision of making him the butt of an extremely idiotic joke did not go over well with me. I had to fight the urge to backhand her.
When Allan left David practically screamed, "God, what a fag!" I wasn't able to tamp down my anger by this point; the rage was clearly visible on my face. Tracey, still thinking she was being cute, chirped out mockingly, "Don't say that. That's her friend."
David, a simpering smile on his face lisped, "I'm sorry I insulted your friend." Glowering, I turned on my heels and marched to the back. I refused to even look at them.
Two days later, I reported their behavior to the manager of the convenience store. To say she was not pleased was an understatement.
David never returned to the store. I believe he was banned outright, not only for this incident but for a myriad of other stupid things that he had done. It only took four months, but Tracey was finally fired. I had and still have no idea why, but I honestly could not care. I no longer had to deal with her for the rest of my stay at the shop.
About 14 months later, I was at a new job; this time I was working in a doughnut shop. I was on the drive-thru, completing orders when a customer cruised up to the window. Immediately I flinched. It was none other than Tracey.
I hastily cashed out her order and handed her both the change and pastries. I wanted her to leave. Immediately. But she didn't. Instead, she stared at me for a moment. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked. I furrowed my brow in feigned confusion and mutely shook my head. She shrugged, revved her car's engine and sped off, out of my life forever.
*Not his real name.
Part One Part Two
Tracey was a new hire to the sub shop, but she walked in as if she owned the place. She was bossy and annoying; if she wasn't trying to order me around, she was constantly trying to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted or needed.
It hardly seemed fair: I had been working at this place for nearly a year, yet she was acting as if she were my supervisor. I knew better what needed to be done and how to do it, but she still acted as if she were my superior.
Even worse, she never wanted to work.
She was constantly calling me in because she was going to be late or she would be working at the convenience store or she had stubbed her little toe or something to that effect. In fact, she called me into work early on the day my great-grandmother died then acted surprised when I got upset.
When she finally started working on the convenience store side permanently, I heaved a sigh of relief. Tracey would finally be out of my hair! Or so I thought.
Instead, she would trot over to the sub shop and continually order me around and tie up our phone line. To say she was frustrating would be putting it in the nicest of terms.
But I had no idea just how vicious she could be, until one lonely Saturday night.
It was a very slow late summer Saturday night. I was working a closing shift while Tracey was working at the convenience store. I had just finished wiping down the meat slicer when out of the blue Tracey and one of our former hires asked me a question. It was one that raised my hackles immediately.
"Hey (Weasel), would you ever kiss a girl?"
My eyes narrowed. I already didn't like where this was going. "Um, how?" I asked, feeling my anger rise.
"You know, french kiss." She was giggling.
I shut my eyes and rolled them backwards in the sockets. "Um, no." I refused to play along with their game. My time was much more valuable than that.
Now, usually this would be a conversation ender. Not with Tracey. Instead she prattled on about how the "dyke" in question was absolutely in love with me, how she was drop dead gorgeous and had posed for Playboy, how she would pay me $600 just to go on a date with her. With every passing second, it got more and more outlandish. Me, I just kept shaking my head and continued with the cleaning. I had better things to do, like completing my work. But she and David* thought this was the funniest thing in the universe and continued.
When I had slipped to the backroom and started filling one of the sinks with clean dishwater, I heard a sharp squeal. "Oh my God, there she is!" Tracey shrieked, as someone walked inside.
It was Allan, one of my regular customers.
Allan and I got along wonderfully. We talked about movies, current events, life, you name it.
It was also believed that Allan was gay. To everyone else, this was an issue. To me, it was a mere trifle. Allan was a friend. That was all I needed to know.
Tracey's decision of making him the butt of an extremely idiotic joke did not go over well with me. I had to fight the urge to backhand her.
When Allan left David practically screamed, "God, what a fag!" I wasn't able to tamp down my anger by this point; the rage was clearly visible on my face. Tracey, still thinking she was being cute, chirped out mockingly, "Don't say that. That's her friend."
David, a simpering smile on his face lisped, "I'm sorry I insulted your friend." Glowering, I turned on my heels and marched to the back. I refused to even look at them.
Two days later, I reported their behavior to the manager of the convenience store. To say she was not pleased was an understatement.
David never returned to the store. I believe he was banned outright, not only for this incident but for a myriad of other stupid things that he had done. It only took four months, but Tracey was finally fired. I had and still have no idea why, but I honestly could not care. I no longer had to deal with her for the rest of my stay at the shop.
About 14 months later, I was at a new job; this time I was working in a doughnut shop. I was on the drive-thru, completing orders when a customer cruised up to the window. Immediately I flinched. It was none other than Tracey.
I hastily cashed out her order and handed her both the change and pastries. I wanted her to leave. Immediately. But she didn't. Instead, she stared at me for a moment. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked. I furrowed my brow in feigned confusion and mutely shook my head. She shrugged, revved her car's engine and sped off, out of my life forever.
*Not his real name.
Part One Part Two
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Illegal Download Edition
The Optimus Prime "exclusive" from Dairycon 2009.(Is this the most awesome convention exclusive ever, or the most tasteless? You decide.)
Yet More Random Thoughts
Since I've nothing better to do, it's time for another round of
* I brought home a few more souvenirs than I thought. Both of my ankles are covered with mosquito bites. I had completely forgotten just how small and vicious NC skeeters can be.
* I return to work tomorrow. I can't say that I am looking forward to it. It's Saturday, so it'll be insanely busy. And everyone will be rude. Primus, please let me get the self checks!
* I've been reading Richard Adam's masterwork Watership Down. I loved the animated film when I was young, but the book beats the pants off it. If you've never had a chance to check out either one, I highly suggest you do so. You won't be disappointed.
* I'd better pick up that Manaphy and soon: We're finally getting Oak's Letter. Shiny Shaymin, here I come!
Well, that about does it for this time. Tune in later for even more crap that happens to be floating about in my brain. Until then, this has been
--Weasel, signing off again.
Random Thoughts
* I brought home a few more souvenirs than I thought. Both of my ankles are covered with mosquito bites. I had completely forgotten just how small and vicious NC skeeters can be.
* I return to work tomorrow. I can't say that I am looking forward to it. It's Saturday, so it'll be insanely busy. And everyone will be rude. Primus, please let me get the self checks!
* I've been reading Richard Adam's masterwork Watership Down. I loved the animated film when I was young, but the book beats the pants off it. If you've never had a chance to check out either one, I highly suggest you do so. You won't be disappointed.
* I'd better pick up that Manaphy and soon: We're finally getting Oak's Letter. Shiny Shaymin, here I come!
Well, that about does it for this time. Tune in later for even more crap that happens to be floating about in my brain. Until then, this has been
--Weasel, signing off again.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Back from Carolina
Got back to WI yesterday. The trip was pretty uneventful, save for the usual packs of stupid one may encounter while flying. (Why do people try and take three and four bags on board the plane when they know that you can't?)
I'm still a little surprised that I took the plunge.
--Weasel, getting used to married life.... and finding it's not all that much different.
I'm still a little surprised that I took the plunge.
--Weasel, getting used to married life.... and finding it's not all that much different.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Do What Now? Edition
One of the "friendly" volunteers enjoying his job during the convention. BotCon 2009.(That guy looks kinda familiar for some reason. Wonder why....?)
Monday, September 14, 2009
It's the Stress, Stupid!
I was talking to one of my coworkers during lunch yesterday; her main complaint was a lack of energy due to the insane amount of stress she had to face on a daily basis.
Prime has often wondered why I'm always so wiped out on my days off. I literally do not have the energy to leave the house and do anything; I mostly just want to sleep/relax.
It's the stress. It's the job related stress that's draining the life out of me. And it's slowly getting worse.
It's odd; when I had my royally crappy jobs in the '90s I didn't have this sort of reaction. Even though I was stressed out and tired, I still went out and had fun with my friends. But nowadays I just can't muster the energy to do much of anything.
The only time I feel decent is BotCon.
Let's just hope I can make it 'til then.
--Weasel, "Right now, I'm gonna take a nap."
Prime has often wondered why I'm always so wiped out on my days off. I literally do not have the energy to leave the house and do anything; I mostly just want to sleep/relax.
It's the stress. It's the job related stress that's draining the life out of me. And it's slowly getting worse.
It's odd; when I had my royally crappy jobs in the '90s I didn't have this sort of reaction. Even though I was stressed out and tired, I still went out and had fun with my friends. But nowadays I just can't muster the energy to do much of anything.
The only time I feel decent is BotCon.
Let's just hope I can make it 'til then.
--Weasel, "Right now, I'm gonna take a nap."
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Once Upon A Time...
...I worked with a woman named Ronda.
Ronda was the assistant manager at the sub shop where I was employed. She was a large woman, very intimidating with brownish curly hair and a thickly built frame.
She was also drunk on power and loved to throw her status around. She did this on more than one occasion. As if she wasn't threatening enough, she would threaten to let her husband deal with people she didn't like. Her husband was 6'3" and weighed over 300 lbs, as she liked to say.
She swore that she was like a cobra, coiled and ready to strike. The woman frightened me; something about her was very "wrong". Needless to say, I did not want to tangle with her or her husband; I gave them both a very wide berth.
Usually, I was spared her petty and pathetic displays of power. Until one day...
One year, I asked for Valentine's Day off. I had made plans for the day. I put in for the day weeks in advance; I was told that it had been okayed and I would have it. And have it I did, for all of one hour.
Ronda tore up the schedule and completely re-did it. She gave herself Valentine's Day off and stuck me with a closing shift for the night.
I had no idea that Ronda had been the one to do this: I had thought that it had been the manager herself. One of my co-workers told me what happened. She also said she was utterly appalled by Ronda's behavior.
I was livid.
I had to deal with this unpleasant and very overbearing woman for several more months, then she quit without notice. It seems she had come into a rather large inheritance of $30,000. When she received the money, she promptly lost her mind; she refused to come into work that day and laughed in the manager's face when she called to ask if she had quit.
I learned a valuable lesson that day: Trust your instincts. If you think someone is insane, you are probably right.
Part One
Author's note: I was inspired by these two pieces. However, they were in the "Mens are evil!!!11!" vein. What I am trying to do is counter-balance this inequity, along with healing a few old wounds. Trust me, this has been very cathartic.
Ronda was the assistant manager at the sub shop where I was employed. She was a large woman, very intimidating with brownish curly hair and a thickly built frame.
She was also drunk on power and loved to throw her status around. She did this on more than one occasion. As if she wasn't threatening enough, she would threaten to let her husband deal with people she didn't like. Her husband was 6'3" and weighed over 300 lbs, as she liked to say.
She swore that she was like a cobra, coiled and ready to strike. The woman frightened me; something about her was very "wrong". Needless to say, I did not want to tangle with her or her husband; I gave them both a very wide berth.
Usually, I was spared her petty and pathetic displays of power. Until one day...
One year, I asked for Valentine's Day off. I had made plans for the day. I put in for the day weeks in advance; I was told that it had been okayed and I would have it. And have it I did, for all of one hour.
Ronda tore up the schedule and completely re-did it. She gave herself Valentine's Day off and stuck me with a closing shift for the night.
I had no idea that Ronda had been the one to do this: I had thought that it had been the manager herself. One of my co-workers told me what happened. She also said she was utterly appalled by Ronda's behavior.
I was livid.
I had to deal with this unpleasant and very overbearing woman for several more months, then she quit without notice. It seems she had come into a rather large inheritance of $30,000. When she received the money, she promptly lost her mind; she refused to come into work that day and laughed in the manager's face when she called to ask if she had quit.
I learned a valuable lesson that day: Trust your instincts. If you think someone is insane, you are probably right.
Part One
Author's note: I was inspired by these two pieces. However, they were in the "Mens are evil!!!11!" vein. What I am trying to do is counter-balance this inequity, along with healing a few old wounds. Trust me, this has been very cathartic.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Big Mother Trucker Edition
The Optimus Prime Peterbilt 379 semi truck from Transformers. BotCon 2007, Providence, RI.(I got to touch the Autobot sigil on his front grille... and passed him a kiss before I left!)
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Love Thy Neighbor... Or Not
On Monday, I had a CBL. It was the annual chemical clean-up crap; this one takes an hour, easily. You have got to take notes or you won't pass the damned thing. Just trust me on that.
So I was stuck in the Personnel office for all that time, getting a cramp in my hand while trying to pass this idiotic thing on the first attempt. While I was jotting down notes, Dianna (one of the Personnel associates) came into the room. She wanted to know where in the heck head cashier Chris was transferring to. She was promptly told by someone else (I'm not sure who; I couldn't see a face) that Chris was going to Alabama.
What does Dianna say? "Well, they can have the little addict."
I kept my eyes on the computer screen. But I was pissed, very pissed when I heard that shit come out of Dianna's mouth.
First of all, Chris hasn't used in a very long time. We're talking time that can be measured in years. Secondly, he was the best damned head we had. The front end is already suffering because he's gone.
"Well, they can have the little addict."
Did I mention that Dianna just loves to read Guideposts? And I've seen her reading those smarmy Christian "romance" novels?
"Well, they can have the little addict."
What was that about "Judge not, lest ye be judged"? Unbe-fucking-lievable.
--Weasel, "I'd assume Jesus wouldn't take too kindly to people like that. But what the hell do I know?"
So I was stuck in the Personnel office for all that time, getting a cramp in my hand while trying to pass this idiotic thing on the first attempt. While I was jotting down notes, Dianna (one of the Personnel associates) came into the room. She wanted to know where in the heck head cashier Chris was transferring to. She was promptly told by someone else (I'm not sure who; I couldn't see a face) that Chris was going to Alabama.
What does Dianna say? "Well, they can have the little addict."
I kept my eyes on the computer screen. But I was pissed, very pissed when I heard that shit come out of Dianna's mouth.
First of all, Chris hasn't used in a very long time. We're talking time that can be measured in years. Secondly, he was the best damned head we had. The front end is already suffering because he's gone.
"Well, they can have the little addict."
Did I mention that Dianna just loves to read Guideposts? And I've seen her reading those smarmy Christian "romance" novels?
"Well, they can have the little addict."
What was that about "Judge not, lest ye be judged"? Unbe-fucking-lievable.
--Weasel, "I'd assume Jesus wouldn't take too kindly to people like that. But what the hell do I know?"
Saturday, September 05, 2009
It Would Be Funny If It Weren't So Damn Stupid
Today I'm covering a lunch break on grocery self check when head cashier John comes over to have a chat with me. When he starts, he admits that what he's about to tell me is one of the dumbest things he's ever had to say, so I know in advance that this is going to be bad. Really bad.
We have a brand spankin' new rule, just handed down from management. All cashiers, while on the clock and working, have to look "pleasant" and smile. Constantly. Doesn't matter if your day sucks ass, if you've just been screamed out by a customer, if your life is a living hell and falling apart around your ears, you have to smile and be all insipidly happy-looking so the customers don't think you're "grumpy".
Oh, and if you're not smiling you could get coached.
Yep, you could get written up if you're not pleasant enough. Good luck trying to enforce that rule.
This is part of the "Fast-er, Friendli-er" bullshit that's just been rolled out. I knew this shit was a bad idea from the start but seriously, this is out of control.
The word is already spreading. Most cashiers think it's a joke; the heads and management hardly ever smile or act pleasant at all. Same with the other floor associates. One cashier said flat out that the customers would probably find all this more creepy than anything else. I have a tendency to agree. But hey, what do I know?
I tried my damnedest to act as happy as possible today. But it was a half-hearted attempt. You can't fake being happy; it looks really forced when you try.
When I was done for the day, I was drained, frustrated and utterly tired of the stupid. So I wandered down the toy aisle, trying to clear my mind and relax a little. The toy department is one of my favorite areas of the store. And the sight of Transformers always lifts my spirits. It doesn't matter if I already have them in my collection; seeing one hanging on the pegs at work is a bit like seeing an old friend. (I'm weird, I know.)
I'm glad I did. What should be waiting for me but a Transformers RPM Battle Pack--Bumblebee versus Barricade.
Another Bumblebee. Popping up after I've had a really bad day. The guardian angel appears again.
I could really get used to this, you know. It makes the stupid a lot more bearable.
--Weasel, "Between him and BotCon, I honestly think I can make it through the workplace idiocy."
We have a brand spankin' new rule, just handed down from management. All cashiers, while on the clock and working, have to look "pleasant" and smile. Constantly. Doesn't matter if your day sucks ass, if you've just been screamed out by a customer, if your life is a living hell and falling apart around your ears, you have to smile and be all insipidly happy-looking so the customers don't think you're "grumpy".
Oh, and if you're not smiling you could get coached.
Yep, you could get written up if you're not pleasant enough. Good luck trying to enforce that rule.
This is part of the "Fast-er, Friendli-er" bullshit that's just been rolled out. I knew this shit was a bad idea from the start but seriously, this is out of control.
The word is already spreading. Most cashiers think it's a joke; the heads and management hardly ever smile or act pleasant at all. Same with the other floor associates. One cashier said flat out that the customers would probably find all this more creepy than anything else. I have a tendency to agree. But hey, what do I know?
I tried my damnedest to act as happy as possible today. But it was a half-hearted attempt. You can't fake being happy; it looks really forced when you try.
When I was done for the day, I was drained, frustrated and utterly tired of the stupid. So I wandered down the toy aisle, trying to clear my mind and relax a little. The toy department is one of my favorite areas of the store. And the sight of Transformers always lifts my spirits. It doesn't matter if I already have them in my collection; seeing one hanging on the pegs at work is a bit like seeing an old friend. (I'm weird, I know.)
I'm glad I did. What should be waiting for me but a Transformers RPM Battle Pack--Bumblebee versus Barricade.
Another Bumblebee. Popping up after I've had a really bad day. The guardian angel appears again.
I could really get used to this, you know. It makes the stupid a lot more bearable.
--Weasel, "Between him and BotCon, I honestly think I can make it through the workplace idiocy."
Once Upon a Time...
...I worked with a woman named Laranda.
Laranda was two years younger than I and the acting manager of the sub shop where I worked. She had a fox-like face, a very sly grin and a very slippery personality. She was nice, but she was also too nice. She had the look of someone who would smile in your face while she twisted a machete into the small of your back.
Laranda was also rather pretty. And she knew it. She was also not afraid to use this to her advantage. She was a flirt. Most men who worked in that building were completely and totally under her spell. The assistant manager admitted that he would love nothing more than to have hot wet naked sex with her. The higher-ups commented on how pretty she looked. One of my guy friends who had worked there before I was hired often commented that she had a great ass.
The only guy who never made such comments was my then boyfriend. He treated Laranda with respect, but he never fawned over her.
This would ultimately be his undoing.
One night, my then boyfriend was left at the shop alone. Things went bad. Very bad. He got a bad customer. He got frustrated. He was near tears. He wanted to walk out. I and the manager of the convenience store that the shop resided in convinced him otherwise.
It was all for naught. The next day, he was fired. By Laranda.
I did not escape her wrath. I was written up for being on the clock when I was supposed to have gone home. (It wasn't true; I had indeed clocked out and was about to leave, but I stayed when the manager of the convenience store said I might be needed. I was not on the clock: I was simply waiting in the back of the shop in case I was needed.)
When I went back to work after the incident, Laranda was there. She smiled at me. She was nice, as usual. Still too nice, as always. I returned her niceties, all the while holding back the bile.
It would be later that I would learn a very bitter truth.
Laranda had no power to hire or fire anyone. But she was having an affair. With Gary, the district manager. Gary, the district manager did have the power to hire and fire whoever he pleased.
And Laranda had him wrapped around her little finger, among other body parts.
It doesn't take a genius to figure it all out. Needless to say, I felt completely and utterly disgusted by them both.
Eventually, Laranda was fired. Gary was, too. They couldn't keep their indiscretions private and that was their undoing. But I learned a valuable lesson: If someone seems too nice or too perfect, they ususally are. And for heaven's sake, watch your back lest you find a knifeblade between your shoulders.
Laranda was two years younger than I and the acting manager of the sub shop where I worked. She had a fox-like face, a very sly grin and a very slippery personality. She was nice, but she was also too nice. She had the look of someone who would smile in your face while she twisted a machete into the small of your back.
Laranda was also rather pretty. And she knew it. She was also not afraid to use this to her advantage. She was a flirt. Most men who worked in that building were completely and totally under her spell. The assistant manager admitted that he would love nothing more than to have hot wet naked sex with her. The higher-ups commented on how pretty she looked. One of my guy friends who had worked there before I was hired often commented that she had a great ass.
The only guy who never made such comments was my then boyfriend. He treated Laranda with respect, but he never fawned over her.
This would ultimately be his undoing.
One night, my then boyfriend was left at the shop alone. Things went bad. Very bad. He got a bad customer. He got frustrated. He was near tears. He wanted to walk out. I and the manager of the convenience store that the shop resided in convinced him otherwise.
It was all for naught. The next day, he was fired. By Laranda.
I did not escape her wrath. I was written up for being on the clock when I was supposed to have gone home. (It wasn't true; I had indeed clocked out and was about to leave, but I stayed when the manager of the convenience store said I might be needed. I was not on the clock: I was simply waiting in the back of the shop in case I was needed.)
When I went back to work after the incident, Laranda was there. She smiled at me. She was nice, as usual. Still too nice, as always. I returned her niceties, all the while holding back the bile.
It would be later that I would learn a very bitter truth.
Laranda had no power to hire or fire anyone. But she was having an affair. With Gary, the district manager. Gary, the district manager did have the power to hire and fire whoever he pleased.
And Laranda had him wrapped around her little finger, among other body parts.
It doesn't take a genius to figure it all out. Needless to say, I felt completely and utterly disgusted by them both.
Eventually, Laranda was fired. Gary was, too. They couldn't keep their indiscretions private and that was their undoing. But I learned a valuable lesson: If someone seems too nice or too perfect, they ususally are. And for heaven's sake, watch your back lest you find a knifeblade between your shoulders.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Friday Photoblog: California Dreamin' Edition
The street corner near our bus stop in Pasadena, CA. BotCon 2009.(That's the RT 10 ARTS bus in the background.)
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
And Today in Stupidity...
So as everyone knows, I'm down with a head cold. It's not as bad today, but it's still sapping most of my energy. Like I said yesterday, the self checks would have probably been the best place for me today--fewer people, less of a chance of infecting anyone, lighter work load. A win/win, right?
Wrong.
I got stuck on lane 3 damn near the entire day. That's right. An express lane. I got grocery self checks for a grand total of one hour and fifteen minutes today.
*Groan*
Yeah, I'm exhausted. And I felt like crap for most of the day. No real energy, but I'm expected to bust my ass.
I can only hope tomorrow's better.
--Weasel, "It has to be. It just has to."
Wrong.
I got stuck on lane 3 damn near the entire day. That's right. An express lane. I got grocery self checks for a grand total of one hour and fifteen minutes today.
*Groan*
Yeah, I'm exhausted. And I felt like crap for most of the day. No real energy, but I'm expected to bust my ass.
I can only hope tomorrow's better.
--Weasel, "It has to be. It just has to."
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Well, Isn't This Great?
So this Sunday I come home and I have a raging headache. This one was bad, so bad that turning my head or laughing would be painful. I didn't really think much of it until the next morning.
I awoke Monday morning with a sore throat. I still have it. And my head feels plugged.
I have a summer cold. Go me.
It's not terrible, but it's very draining. I just woke up 35 minutes ago and I'm only down here because I'm cooking brunch. (Chicken soup. Nummy. I can hardly wait.)
I still feel headachey and very run down. Tomorrow will be interesting: I have to work. Maybe I should beg/plead for the self checks? A normal register would probably be a bit much.
Right now, I'm going to choke down my soup. Afterwards, I'm crashing out. I won't be too bored; I have Beldum eggs to hatch. (I'm trying to exploit the Masuda method. I wants me a shiny Beldum all kinds of bad!)
--Weasel, "Time to hit the Tylenol cold crap. Again."
I awoke Monday morning with a sore throat. I still have it. And my head feels plugged.
I have a summer cold. Go me.
It's not terrible, but it's very draining. I just woke up 35 minutes ago and I'm only down here because I'm cooking brunch. (Chicken soup. Nummy. I can hardly wait.)
I still feel headachey and very run down. Tomorrow will be interesting: I have to work. Maybe I should beg/plead for the self checks? A normal register would probably be a bit much.
Right now, I'm going to choke down my soup. Afterwards, I'm crashing out. I won't be too bored; I have Beldum eggs to hatch. (I'm trying to exploit the Masuda method. I wants me a shiny Beldum all kinds of bad!)
--Weasel, "Time to hit the Tylenol cold crap. Again."
Friday, August 28, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Random Facts Edition
Random Fact: Chuck Norris does not have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, he has an entire universe.(It needed to be said...)
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
This Week in "Epic Fail"...
For the past couple of weeks, we've had a woman (sometimes with a large group of her friends) who would come into our store several times throughout the day. She would cart up a crapload of items, try to check them out, then void all but three (or fewer) items because she never had enough money for everything. She would then come back much later that night (usually at around 9 or 10) with $150 to $200 worth of items to return. Now remember, this is the exact same woman who didn't have enough money to cover her purchases earlier. So where the hell was this slag coming from?!
As if that wasn't enough, she claimed that she had been employed in a retail store, had been fired and was currently trying to sue them. She also claimed she was looking into suing our store for discrimination.
Yeah, a real piece of work, this one.
But thankfully, her little games are now over.
This Saturday, she came into the store again. (This had to be the fourth time that she had come in that day, but I digress.) Again, she's pulling the exact same BS--trying to buy a heap of slag, then voiding off most of it. She then leaves and returns.... with an enormous pile of returns and no receipt. She swears she'll be back with her receipt and leaves again. It goes without saying that management was alerted. Immediately.
When Ms. StickyFingers came back with her receipt, it got interesting fast.
Management refused the returns. Ms. StickyFingers tried to leave and was promptly met at the door by the police. One of our loss prevention guys was on her tail, too. She had nowhere to run.
Ms. StickyFingers has officially been banned from our store. I have no idea if she was treated to a nice cozy pair of silver bracelets, nor do I know if management is pressing charges. But from what I hear, they have a shitload of documentation on her, so if they wanted to do so, there's no reason they couldn't. In any case, that's one problem out of our hair.
Fast forward to Sunday.
One of Ms. StickyFingers' friends came in, with a few bags. She claimed that they were from a local competitor. The people greeter who spotted her made her tie the bags shut and we let management know that we had another potential problem in our store.
The friend was tailed, but nothing came of it. She didn't really do anything illegal. But I have to wonder; if you know your ringleader was busted, why in the hell are you going to go into the same damn store that busted her?! That makes no damn sense to me, I swear.
--Weasel, "The good guys won.... for once. Next time may be very different."
As if that wasn't enough, she claimed that she had been employed in a retail store, had been fired and was currently trying to sue them. She also claimed she was looking into suing our store for discrimination.
Yeah, a real piece of work, this one.
But thankfully, her little games are now over.
This Saturday, she came into the store again. (This had to be the fourth time that she had come in that day, but I digress.) Again, she's pulling the exact same BS--trying to buy a heap of slag, then voiding off most of it. She then leaves and returns.... with an enormous pile of returns and no receipt. She swears she'll be back with her receipt and leaves again. It goes without saying that management was alerted. Immediately.
When Ms. StickyFingers came back with her receipt, it got interesting fast.
Management refused the returns. Ms. StickyFingers tried to leave and was promptly met at the door by the police. One of our loss prevention guys was on her tail, too. She had nowhere to run.
Ms. StickyFingers has officially been banned from our store. I have no idea if she was treated to a nice cozy pair of silver bracelets, nor do I know if management is pressing charges. But from what I hear, they have a shitload of documentation on her, so if they wanted to do so, there's no reason they couldn't. In any case, that's one problem out of our hair.
Fast forward to Sunday.
One of Ms. StickyFingers' friends came in, with a few bags. She claimed that they were from a local competitor. The people greeter who spotted her made her tie the bags shut and we let management know that we had another potential problem in our store.
The friend was tailed, but nothing came of it. She didn't really do anything illegal. But I have to wonder; if you know your ringleader was busted, why in the hell are you going to go into the same damn store that busted her?! That makes no damn sense to me, I swear.
--Weasel, "The good guys won.... for once. Next time may be very different."
Saturday, August 22, 2009
And the Universe Smacks Me Over the Head.... Again
The last couple of days at work have been hell. I wish I was kidding about that fact, but it is unfortunately very true.
On Thursday most of my breaks were late. Not by a few minutes, either. This was anywhere from 30 to 50 minutes late. Frustrating? You better believe it. Friday wasn't much better. In fact, I'd say it was a slagload worse.
It's Friday. I'm on lane 17. I get a customer who brings up a Packers sweatshirt. It's one I've never seen before and it rings up at $27. The customer says it was on a clearance rack and points to a price sticker (a slightly wrinkled sticker, I might add) that reads $5. The tag itself says $23. She wants this thing for the $5 price.
Yes, that's a $22 difference. So, no, I'm not overriding that without an approval. (If I did, a head cashier, department manager or some other member of management would be up my ass like you wouldn't believe. And I don't know about anyone else, but I like being able to have a paycheck to pay my damned bills.) So I call Men's wear. They start looking for something similar. They can't find one. So I walk to Men's wear and show them the stupid thing. They scan it with their Telxon and it comes up $27. So the associates in Men's wear state that we can only sell the damned thing for the price it scans. So I get back to my lane and tell her this; she leaves.
Here's where it gets insanely stupid.
Thieving customer comes back.... with management. Management takes sweatshirt and sells it to thief for $5.
Yeah, I'm pissed. Even worse, management wants to know why I couldn't just override the damn thing, forgetting that if I did, they would be chewing my ass out.
The dull thud you keep hearing? It's just my head slamming into the nearest brick wall. Don't worry, I'm used to it. After a while the pain is quite refreshing, really.
I am now so pissed that I can literally not see straight. I want nothing more than to either scream or strangle something or both. Thankfully, I get sent to break, so my sanity is spared for a few precious moments. But my break is over far too soon and I must return to Idiot Central aka my crappy job.
I am loathe to return to lane 17, so I decide to do a little tidying up first--I take a basket back to the GM doors, I take back some items that were left behind, run and take a quick drink of water, you name it. As I finally make my way back to myprison cell register, I start to think about the past two days. And remembering my track record, I can't help but think I should be finding something amazingly awesome.
All right Primus, I think. It's been a shit couple of days; you seriously owe me and you better pay the hell up!
Not long after this little exchange I discovered that it's never a good idea to snap at a god. They take it pretty seriously. And Primus is no exception.
He paid up all right. Boy, howdy, he paid up.
Not ten minutes later, I get a kid (10 or 12 years old) with a Transformers Optimus Prime book cover and a Voyager-class ROTF Optimus Prime. The book cover scans, but the toy won't. I stop and stare at my register; this seems impossible. We sell Voyagers all the blasted time, so why the heck won't this one scan? Then I look at the UPC code; it's 13 numbers long. I look at the back of the box and there is no tech spec, only an abbreviated bio that happens to be in 12 different languages.
In my hands is a European Optimus Prime. It's all I can do not to freak.
I tell the kid that we have a small problem with this one, tuck EuroPrime behind my check reader and race to Toys. After a frantic few moments of searching I manage to find a domestic Optimus. I run back, ring up the domestic Voyager and do everything in my power to keep EuroPrime in my sights. I was giddy, to put it mildly; the only European toy I've ever seen was a Universe Acid Storm that one of our friends found in the same manner and sold to us.
Ten minutes later, I overheard a page for Toys. A cashier two aisles away has a second EuroPrime. How did I find this out? A customer in my lane told me; she said that the other cashier was having trouble with "that exact same toy" and pointed to the Prime that was still occupying space by the check reader.
Two European toys. In my store. It seemed impossible, but here it was. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, I was so excited.
I immediately cashed out her order, shut my lane down and raced over to register 21. "I know what to do!" I cried. "I can fix this!" I race to Toys yet again, find another domestic Prime and quickly make another swap.
Two European ROTF Optimus Primes. Both now resting safely at my register. I am nearly dancing with delight. I can barely wait for lunch so I can call Prime and tell him of my discovery.
When I do, he asks if we have anymore Euro toys (like, did someone in China screw up an entire Voyager-class case?). As I go back and check, I find a lone Bumblebee Battle Charger. He was simply sitting atop a Bumblebee roleplay cannon, as if he was waiting for me to come by and take him home. Of course, I did.
The rest of the day was a lot better. I got to take over GM self checks, which is my favorite place to be.... other than Toys, that is. And once I was done for the day, Prime and I went and took in another viewing of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen at a local second chance theater-cafe. Two and a half hours of kicking back in a plush-comfy chair while eating some really kickass pizza? Yes, please.
So yeah, I'd say Primus delivered that day. Maybe I should be a bit more grateful from now on; if he can drop stuff like that my way, I'd hate to see him pissed.
--Weasel, "Yeah, that could be pretty bad now that I think about it."
On Thursday most of my breaks were late. Not by a few minutes, either. This was anywhere from 30 to 50 minutes late. Frustrating? You better believe it. Friday wasn't much better. In fact, I'd say it was a slagload worse.
It's Friday. I'm on lane 17. I get a customer who brings up a Packers sweatshirt. It's one I've never seen before and it rings up at $27. The customer says it was on a clearance rack and points to a price sticker (a slightly wrinkled sticker, I might add) that reads $5. The tag itself says $23. She wants this thing for the $5 price.
Yes, that's a $22 difference. So, no, I'm not overriding that without an approval. (If I did, a head cashier, department manager or some other member of management would be up my ass like you wouldn't believe. And I don't know about anyone else, but I like being able to have a paycheck to pay my damned bills.) So I call Men's wear. They start looking for something similar. They can't find one. So I walk to Men's wear and show them the stupid thing. They scan it with their Telxon and it comes up $27. So the associates in Men's wear state that we can only sell the damned thing for the price it scans. So I get back to my lane and tell her this; she leaves.
Here's where it gets insanely stupid.
Thieving customer comes back.... with management. Management takes sweatshirt and sells it to thief for $5.
Yeah, I'm pissed. Even worse, management wants to know why I couldn't just override the damn thing, forgetting that if I did, they would be chewing my ass out.
The dull thud you keep hearing? It's just my head slamming into the nearest brick wall. Don't worry, I'm used to it. After a while the pain is quite refreshing, really.
I am now so pissed that I can literally not see straight. I want nothing more than to either scream or strangle something or both. Thankfully, I get sent to break, so my sanity is spared for a few precious moments. But my break is over far too soon and I must return to Idiot Central aka my crappy job.
I am loathe to return to lane 17, so I decide to do a little tidying up first--I take a basket back to the GM doors, I take back some items that were left behind, run and take a quick drink of water, you name it. As I finally make my way back to my
All right Primus, I think. It's been a shit couple of days; you seriously owe me and you better pay the hell up!
Not long after this little exchange I discovered that it's never a good idea to snap at a god. They take it pretty seriously. And Primus is no exception.
He paid up all right. Boy, howdy, he paid up.
Not ten minutes later, I get a kid (10 or 12 years old) with a Transformers Optimus Prime book cover and a Voyager-class ROTF Optimus Prime. The book cover scans, but the toy won't. I stop and stare at my register; this seems impossible. We sell Voyagers all the blasted time, so why the heck won't this one scan? Then I look at the UPC code; it's 13 numbers long. I look at the back of the box and there is no tech spec, only an abbreviated bio that happens to be in 12 different languages.
In my hands is a European Optimus Prime. It's all I can do not to freak.
I tell the kid that we have a small problem with this one, tuck EuroPrime behind my check reader and race to Toys. After a frantic few moments of searching I manage to find a domestic Optimus. I run back, ring up the domestic Voyager and do everything in my power to keep EuroPrime in my sights. I was giddy, to put it mildly; the only European toy I've ever seen was a Universe Acid Storm that one of our friends found in the same manner and sold to us.
Ten minutes later, I overheard a page for Toys. A cashier two aisles away has a second EuroPrime. How did I find this out? A customer in my lane told me; she said that the other cashier was having trouble with "that exact same toy" and pointed to the Prime that was still occupying space by the check reader.
Two European toys. In my store. It seemed impossible, but here it was. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, I was so excited.
I immediately cashed out her order, shut my lane down and raced over to register 21. "I know what to do!" I cried. "I can fix this!" I race to Toys yet again, find another domestic Prime and quickly make another swap.
Two European ROTF Optimus Primes. Both now resting safely at my register. I am nearly dancing with delight. I can barely wait for lunch so I can call Prime and tell him of my discovery.
When I do, he asks if we have anymore Euro toys (like, did someone in China screw up an entire Voyager-class case?). As I go back and check, I find a lone Bumblebee Battle Charger. He was simply sitting atop a Bumblebee roleplay cannon, as if he was waiting for me to come by and take him home. Of course, I did.
The rest of the day was a lot better. I got to take over GM self checks, which is my favorite place to be.... other than Toys, that is. And once I was done for the day, Prime and I went and took in another viewing of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen at a local second chance theater-cafe. Two and a half hours of kicking back in a plush-comfy chair while eating some really kickass pizza? Yes, please.
So yeah, I'd say Primus delivered that day. Maybe I should be a bit more grateful from now on; if he can drop stuff like that my way, I'd hate to see him pissed.
--Weasel, "Yeah, that could be pretty bad now that I think about it."
Friday, August 21, 2009
Friday Photoblog: No Place Like Home Edition
Sign at Rib City in Cincinnati, Ohio. From the Cincinnati Fun Tour, BotCon 2008. Wednesday, August 19, 2009
It's Getting Interesting
It seems we have yet another shakeup coming; Sammy's taking over part of softlines, so one of the other head cashiers will be a 'super' head so to speak. The head in question is going to be Missa. I... really don't know what to say about that choice other than it seems like a much better pick than the rumored first one, John. No offense, but the guy barely knew his ass from a hole in the ground. I mean, he can be a decent guy but he's completely clueless.
Even worse? We're losing two heads, so three are being trained to fill in the empty spots. But the choices in this case aren't the world's greatest. One of them, Ivy has already let this go to her head. Another one, Marvin just isn't very sure of himself. The third, whose name escapes me at the moment, seems competent enough, but we're not going to know until the "trial by fire". So it'll be... pretty interesting at work in a few weeks.
I just don't know how this is going to affect the front end. The 'Fast-er, Friendli-er' crap has been anything but, so many of the other cashiers are pretty stressed out and I'm at my wit's end. Even worse, Cathy is pulling the usual BS which is driving everyone mad. Case in point, she did it again this past Monday--she ordered me to take people from lanes 1 and 4 because "the lines were long". I had four full self-checks, one of which had an alcohol purchase, and two others had mildly incompetent customers, so I was running around all four like an idiot. There was no way I could help anyone except my own customers. I nearly blew a gasket because of her idiocy.
I can't deal with anymore of this crap. I need another BotCon. Like now. Unfortunately, because I now know when the 2010 JoeCon will be, I believe that I also have a fair idea of when BotCon 2010 will be, and... (/cries)
--Weasel, slowly losing what's left of her mind...
Even worse? We're losing two heads, so three are being trained to fill in the empty spots. But the choices in this case aren't the world's greatest. One of them, Ivy has already let this go to her head. Another one, Marvin just isn't very sure of himself. The third, whose name escapes me at the moment, seems competent enough, but we're not going to know until the "trial by fire". So it'll be... pretty interesting at work in a few weeks.
I just don't know how this is going to affect the front end. The 'Fast-er, Friendli-er' crap has been anything but, so many of the other cashiers are pretty stressed out and I'm at my wit's end. Even worse, Cathy is pulling the usual BS which is driving everyone mad. Case in point, she did it again this past Monday--she ordered me to take people from lanes 1 and 4 because "the lines were long". I had four full self-checks, one of which had an alcohol purchase, and two others had mildly incompetent customers, so I was running around all four like an idiot. There was no way I could help anyone except my own customers. I nearly blew a gasket because of her idiocy.
I can't deal with anymore of this crap. I need another BotCon. Like now. Unfortunately, because I now know when the 2010 JoeCon will be, I believe that I also have a fair idea of when BotCon 2010 will be, and... (/cries)
--Weasel, slowly losing what's left of her mind...
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
As the Toilet Clogs
Guess who signed with the Minnesota Vikings?
Yep, you guessed it.
I can't believe that people actually thought Brett would stay retired.
To the Vikings fans, you have my sympathies. The guy's almost 40 and had surgery. And he's a diva to boot. (A former coworker at Target will vouch for that last one.) But I can barely wait to get back to work on Thursday, for there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
And I will love every moment of it. Others will not (and do not), but man oh man...
I had to hear all the "Ted Thompson is evil" bullshit all last season. This is like a gift from the baby Primus. I am going to milk this for all it is worth.
--Weasel, "I'm evil like that."
Yep, you guessed it.
I can't believe that people actually thought Brett would stay retired.
To the Vikings fans, you have my sympathies. The guy's almost 40 and had surgery. And he's a diva to boot. (A former coworker at Target will vouch for that last one.) But I can barely wait to get back to work on Thursday, for there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
And I will love every moment of it. Others will not (and do not), but man oh man...
I had to hear all the "Ted Thompson is evil" bullshit all last season. This is like a gift from the baby Primus. I am going to milk this for all it is worth.
--Weasel, "I'm evil like that."
Sunday, August 16, 2009
25 Random Things I Have Done
1) I have walked down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.
2) I have caught sand fiddlers while playing on the beach.
3) I have ridden out more hurricanes than I can count.
4) I have seen a white Christmas... while living on the coast of North Carolina.
5) I have seen robots working on an assembly line.
6) I have been on an airplane. Several times.
7) I have seen the La Brea tar pits.
8) I have been on the back lots of Paramount studios.
9) I have seen vehicles from the Transformers live action films.
10) I have seen The Lost Colony.
11) I have been on the docks at Wood's Hole.
12) I have met Weird Al and shaken his hand.
13) I have met all of Bumblebee's current domestic voice actors--Dan Gilvezan, Bumper Robinson and Mark Ryan.
14) I have seen a bald eagle take off while I was swimming in a city pool.
15) I have been to Disney World.
16) I have ridden the Jurassic Park ride at Universal Studios in California.
17) I have seen Michael Bay, live and in person.
18) I have touched the Autobot symbol on the front grille of the Optimus Prime Peterbilt truck.
19) I have personally thanked Aaron Archer for my plastic crack.
20) I have been down part of the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
21) I have seen the Hollywood Bowl, the Kodak Theatre, the Hollywood sign and Grauman's Chinese Theatre.
22) I have had my left arm squeezed by none other than Peter Cullen.
23) I have gotten engaged.
24) I have bought a house.
25) I have been in wonderful long term relationship. And enjoyed every second of it. (You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Prime!)
2) I have caught sand fiddlers while playing on the beach.
3) I have ridden out more hurricanes than I can count.
4) I have seen a white Christmas... while living on the coast of North Carolina.
5) I have seen robots working on an assembly line.
6) I have been on an airplane. Several times.
7) I have seen the La Brea tar pits.
8) I have been on the back lots of Paramount studios.
9) I have seen vehicles from the Transformers live action films.
10) I have seen The Lost Colony.
11) I have been on the docks at Wood's Hole.
12) I have met Weird Al and shaken his hand.
13) I have met all of Bumblebee's current domestic voice actors--Dan Gilvezan, Bumper Robinson and Mark Ryan.
14) I have seen a bald eagle take off while I was swimming in a city pool.
15) I have been to Disney World.
16) I have ridden the Jurassic Park ride at Universal Studios in California.
17) I have seen Michael Bay, live and in person.
18) I have touched the Autobot symbol on the front grille of the Optimus Prime Peterbilt truck.
19) I have personally thanked Aaron Archer for my plastic crack.
20) I have been down part of the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
21) I have seen the Hollywood Bowl, the Kodak Theatre, the Hollywood sign and Grauman's Chinese Theatre.
22) I have had my left arm squeezed by none other than Peter Cullen.
23) I have gotten engaged.
24) I have bought a house.
25) I have been in wonderful long term relationship. And enjoyed every second of it. (You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Prime!)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
25 Random Things I Have Never Done
1) I have never broken a bone.
2) I have never had my tonsels removed.
3) I have never watched Sex and the City.
4) I have never had a passport.
5) I have never owned a pet rat. But I want one badly.
6) I have never travelled outside the United States.
7) I have never attended a school dance.
8) I have never tried an illicit drug.
9) I have never gotten so drunk that I had a hangover.
10) I have never attended a college frat party.
11) I have never been on a cruise.
12) I have never gotten a manicure or pedicure.
13) I have never been arrested, tasered or spent a night in jail.
14) I have never been to a professional football game. And I lack the desire to go to one.
15) I have never stayed overnight in a hospital.
16) I have never had a baby.
17) I have never ridden a rollercoaster. And probably never will.
18) I have never gotten anything pierced. That includes my ears.
19) I have never seen "Gone With the Wind". And don't want to.
20) I have never had anyone throw a surprise party for me.
21) I have never owned a Camaro or a VW Beetle. But I want them both badly.
22) I have never surfed. The closest I've ever come is a boogie board.
23) I have never gotten a tattoo.
24) I have never been rollerblading.
25) I have never eaten sushi.
2) I have never had my tonsels removed.
3) I have never watched Sex and the City.
4) I have never had a passport.
5) I have never owned a pet rat. But I want one badly.
6) I have never travelled outside the United States.
7) I have never attended a school dance.
8) I have never tried an illicit drug.
9) I have never gotten so drunk that I had a hangover.
10) I have never attended a college frat party.
11) I have never been on a cruise.
12) I have never gotten a manicure or pedicure.
13) I have never been arrested, tasered or spent a night in jail.
14) I have never been to a professional football game. And I lack the desire to go to one.
15) I have never stayed overnight in a hospital.
16) I have never had a baby.
17) I have never ridden a rollercoaster. And probably never will.
18) I have never gotten anything pierced. That includes my ears.
19) I have never seen "Gone With the Wind". And don't want to.
20) I have never had anyone throw a surprise party for me.
21) I have never owned a Camaro or a VW Beetle. But I want them both badly.
22) I have never surfed. The closest I've ever come is a boogie board.
23) I have never gotten a tattoo.
24) I have never been rollerblading.
25) I have never eaten sushi.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Group Shot Edition
Standees of Bumblebee, Optimus Prime and Sari Sumdac from Transformers: Animated. From BotCon 2008. Well, That's Pretty Darned Sudden...
According to Pokemon.com, Pokemon HeartGold and SoulSilver will be hitting the US in the spring of 2010. Looks like I'll be shiny Lugia hunting during next year's BotCon, if I'm lucky.
I seriously gotta get hot on shiny breeding/catching in Platinum. Or I will not be ready for SoulSilver.
--Weasel, "Damn, that was freaking fast...."
I seriously gotta get hot on shiny breeding/catching in Platinum. Or I will not be ready for SoulSilver.
--Weasel, "Damn, that was freaking fast...."
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Random Thoughts Forever
Since there's so much running through my poor, pathetic feeble brain, it's time for
* My store finally got in leader class Jetfire, so I grabbed him. Too bad he's disappointing in one key aspect: the voice. Why the hell does Jetfire have a Scottish accent? And worse--why the hell isn't he Mark Ryan?! Fail, Hasbro. Serious damn fail. /nerdrage
* I am officially burned out on politics. If I have to hear anymore of this clownshit, be it "Obama was seen eating a baby" or "Healthcare reform will lead to a massive Twinkie uprising", I will punch something. Hard. (I just hope I don't punch a living creature. That could be bad.)
* We've just now hit a spate of hot weather. Wisconsinites are complaining about it. Loudly. Prime included (goes without saying..... but I said it anyway). He hates anything above 77°F (25°C, be scienterrific!), though, so maybe he's not the best thermometer. In a few months, the same Wisconsinites (except for Prime) will be complaining about subzero windchills. Loudly. Go figure.
* GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra is in theatres. From what I've heard, it's actually really good. I'd like to see it, but I really want to see ROTF more. Again, go figure.
* My Pokémon Platinum game is screwing with me. In April, I tried to reset multiple times to get myself a shiny Starter. Nothing. Tried the same things with a Togepi egg and Rotom. Nothing. A bit over two and a half weeks ago, I'm playing the game and run into a wild shiny Zubat. You know the chances of randomly running into a shiny? One in 8,192. Yeah, the game is trying to screw with me all right.
* Speaking of PKMN--the Member Card is being distributed via Nintendo WiFi. For some odd reason, our wifi was malfing, so Prime worked his magic and we now have the Member Card. It'll be a while before I get myself a shiny Darkrai, though--I have a Manaphy egg waiting for me..... and I want to try and get it as a shiny. (No, I do not have a life!)
* I might actually want to put up a Christmas tree this year. This is why. With him on my tree, I'll certainly be in a holiday mood.
And that about does it. Tune in next time for even more strange and mind-bending brain droppings known as "Random Thoughts". Until then this has been...
--Weasel, "Signing out. Yet again."
Friday, August 07, 2009
Permission to Freak Out, Captain?!
It has not been a good week. At all.
Yesterday, I got ripped off. A customer came through my lane with a buy one get one free coupon. No big deal, right? Well, it turned out to be a very big deal--the customer was buying a $3 bottle of shampoo and trying to get a $6 styling aid for free. Needless to say, the register did not let the coupon go through. When that happens, we're not supposed to take the blasted things.
Here's where it gets stupid: the head cashier overrode the damned thing because the customer threw a fit. Why is this a big deal? The customer is an employee!
It's one thing when it's some random jerk off the street who's trying to scam you. It's entirely another when the person trying to scam you frickin' knows better. Or at least, they should know better. (That dull thudding sound you hear? It's my head slamming into the nearest wall.)
Today was no blasted better. The alarm didn't go off this morning, so Prime and I had to bust our skidplates to get ready. (Didn't really help Prime all that much, unfortunately.) Then I got to work. And it got interesting.
At 1:40, I was ringing up an order for a pair of female customers. As I bent over to grab one of the items on the belt, I heard one of them say, "Are you all right?" It seems while I had my head ducked, one of the women had wandered over to register five and slipped. She was now on the floor near the bagging area.
One of the other cashiers managed to flag down a head. It took a few moments, but management came up, got statements from the customers and got statements from me, the other cashier and the head who contacted management. Oddly, though, 'moments' was too long, and one of these women mentioned (snottily) how if this had happened in Target, people there would have been over to help them quick as a blink.
Doesn't that sound, if you think about it for a second, a little suspicious to you?
Yeah, I was a little bit freaked out by the whole incident. I couldn't wait to get my butt home. At least I have a Human Alliance Bumblebee to cuddle up with. I think I've earned it.
--Weasel, "Can I freak out now? Please?!"
Yesterday, I got ripped off. A customer came through my lane with a buy one get one free coupon. No big deal, right? Well, it turned out to be a very big deal--the customer was buying a $3 bottle of shampoo and trying to get a $6 styling aid for free. Needless to say, the register did not let the coupon go through. When that happens, we're not supposed to take the blasted things.
Here's where it gets stupid: the head cashier overrode the damned thing because the customer threw a fit. Why is this a big deal? The customer is an employee!
It's one thing when it's some random jerk off the street who's trying to scam you. It's entirely another when the person trying to scam you frickin' knows better. Or at least, they should know better. (That dull thudding sound you hear? It's my head slamming into the nearest wall.)
Today was no blasted better. The alarm didn't go off this morning, so Prime and I had to bust our skidplates to get ready. (Didn't really help Prime all that much, unfortunately.) Then I got to work. And it got interesting.
At 1:40, I was ringing up an order for a pair of female customers. As I bent over to grab one of the items on the belt, I heard one of them say, "Are you all right?" It seems while I had my head ducked, one of the women had wandered over to register five and slipped. She was now on the floor near the bagging area.
One of the other cashiers managed to flag down a head. It took a few moments, but management came up, got statements from the customers and got statements from me, the other cashier and the head who contacted management. Oddly, though, 'moments' was too long, and one of these women mentioned (snottily) how if this had happened in Target, people there would have been over to help them quick as a blink.
Doesn't that sound, if you think about it for a second, a little suspicious to you?
Yeah, I was a little bit freaked out by the whole incident. I couldn't wait to get my butt home. At least I have a Human Alliance Bumblebee to cuddle up with. I think I've earned it.
--Weasel, "Can I freak out now? Please?!"
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Getting Ready... Again
I hand-washed my Grimock shirt last night. It's hanging in the bathroom right now. It's almost ready to come off the hanger; the bottom hem is still slightly damp so it needs a few more hours. Once old Grimmy's dry, I'll take it down, fold it and put it with the other convention tees. Then on my next day off, I'll go ahead and pack them away.
It's been said that a man enjoys his vacation from the moment he makes his arrival, whereas a woman enjoys hers from the moment she starts packing. If that's true then I never stop enjoying BotCon, since I try to be ready for it so far in advance.
I really can't wait until next year. Sure it won't be as huge as this year's Con, but I need the break from reality. (This is where I can't help but say that Sam Witwicky was a bit of a moron; the absolute last thing I want is a normal life. Hey Sam, if you're that tired of it, I'll hang out with the robots.... and enjoy it!) I need a good nerding out to recharge the batteries so to speak. Too bad I'll have to wait a year.
Maybe I'll drag Prime to another viewing of ROTF; escaping the BS for a little while can only help.
--Weasel, "I could really use a good fantasy right now. Reality sucks."
It's been said that a man enjoys his vacation from the moment he makes his arrival, whereas a woman enjoys hers from the moment she starts packing. If that's true then I never stop enjoying BotCon, since I try to be ready for it so far in advance.
I really can't wait until next year. Sure it won't be as huge as this year's Con, but I need the break from reality. (This is where I can't help but say that Sam Witwicky was a bit of a moron; the absolute last thing I want is a normal life. Hey Sam, if you're that tired of it, I'll hang out with the robots.... and enjoy it!) I need a good nerding out to recharge the batteries so to speak. Too bad I'll have to wait a year.
Maybe I'll drag Prime to another viewing of ROTF; escaping the BS for a little while can only help.
--Weasel, "I could really use a good fantasy right now. Reality sucks."
Friday, July 31, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Wings of Honor Edition
US Airways/Piedmont airliner, spotted during my return trip to WI after BotCon 2007.(You have no idea how many memories that dredged up...)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
There's Only So Much Stupid I can Stand, You Know
Went to a meeting yesterday. It seems WIC is changing and we all had to be duly informed, so we all were.
Then it got stupid. And fast.
There's a new rule now: no cell phones, MP3 players or hand held video gaming systems are allowed on the salesfloor. Which means if you have a DS in your pocket, even if you're not using it, you are breaking the rules. Which means I've been breaking the rules for a long damned time.
It seems we have some nitwits using their cell phones while on the clock, so we all have to pay the price. Meaning, I'd have to leave my DS in my bag (not going to happen), in my locker (not happening either) or at home so some dipstick won't steal the damned thing. (Trust me, I've had a lot of shit stolen. I am not risking my DS.)
I'm actually pretty depressed about this. My DS has been one of the few bright spots I have at work. I don't know if I'm willing to give that up.
--Weasel, "It's kinda like asking me to give up sunshine. I can do it, but I won't like it."
Then it got stupid. And fast.
There's a new rule now: no cell phones, MP3 players or hand held video gaming systems are allowed on the salesfloor. Which means if you have a DS in your pocket, even if you're not using it, you are breaking the rules. Which means I've been breaking the rules for a long damned time.
It seems we have some nitwits using their cell phones while on the clock, so we all have to pay the price. Meaning, I'd have to leave my DS in my bag (not going to happen), in my locker (not happening either) or at home so some dipstick won't steal the damned thing. (Trust me, I've had a lot of shit stolen. I am not risking my DS.)
I'm actually pretty depressed about this. My DS has been one of the few bright spots I have at work. I don't know if I'm willing to give that up.
--Weasel, "It's kinda like asking me to give up sunshine. I can do it, but I won't like it."
Friday, July 24, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Ready for My Close-Up Edition
A shot of Ratchet's door, taken during the Paramount party at BotCon 2009. Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Doldrums
Since we've now hit the "midpoint" (so to speak) of summer and BotCon has long since passed, it has happened again.
I've hit the dreaded doldrums. I have almost no desire to blog. About anything. Even though there has been plenty of slag to blog about (just ask me how stupid work has been lately), I just can't get myself "in the mood" to even attempt to type. And it sucks. Royally.
Normally, this happens to me right after the convention: I come down from the high and realize that I have to go back to the real world. This year was different--I had the movie, along with the viral sites, to keep my spirits up.
But that only lasted for so long. Work has been wearing at me badly (massive stupid on so many different levels), I'm having a harder time dealing with the idiocy that I'm facing on a daily basis and I'm burned out. The weather hasn't exactly been stellar lately either, which only seems to bring me down further. (Waaaaaaaaay too many cloudy days for my taste. I need some more sun here!)
To be perfectly blunt, it's pretty much all downhill from here. And I know that.
It sucks. It really and truly sucks.
I'm going to try and post a bit more often. It'll entail kicking Prime off Alexa every now and again but hey. He'll deal with it. I'm thinking it may help improve my extremely lowered morale. It's a tough job but somebody's gotta do it.
--Weasel, "It sure beats slamming my head into a wall."
I've hit the dreaded doldrums. I have almost no desire to blog. About anything. Even though there has been plenty of slag to blog about (just ask me how stupid work has been lately), I just can't get myself "in the mood" to even attempt to type. And it sucks. Royally.
Normally, this happens to me right after the convention: I come down from the high and realize that I have to go back to the real world. This year was different--I had the movie, along with the viral sites, to keep my spirits up.
But that only lasted for so long. Work has been wearing at me badly (massive stupid on so many different levels), I'm having a harder time dealing with the idiocy that I'm facing on a daily basis and I'm burned out. The weather hasn't exactly been stellar lately either, which only seems to bring me down further. (Waaaaaaaaay too many cloudy days for my taste. I need some more sun here!)
To be perfectly blunt, it's pretty much all downhill from here. And I know that.
It sucks. It really and truly sucks.
I'm going to try and post a bit more often. It'll entail kicking Prime off Alexa every now and again but hey. He'll deal with it. I'm thinking it may help improve my extremely lowered morale. It's a tough job but somebody's gotta do it.
--Weasel, "It sure beats slamming my head into a wall."
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Exhaustion
So tired right now. I really don't have the energy to blog. But yes, I'm still here. Just taking some time off, so to speak.
If I feel better Tuesday, I'll try and put something together then. Just way too tired and frustrated tonight.
--Weasel, "I could use another vacation.... or another BotCon."
If I feel better Tuesday, I'll try and put something together then. Just way too tired and frustrated tonight.
--Weasel, "I could use another vacation.... or another BotCon."
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday Photoblog: The Ghost of BotCons Past Edition
One of the many street signs advertising BotCon 2007 in Providence, RI. Friday, July 10, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Facade Edition
Plaza outside the Pasadena Conference Center, post-BotCon 2009.(Looked a bit more impressive before, with the food vendors and their Transformers-themed menu items.)
Monday, July 06, 2009
I can't even think up a decent title, I'm so addled right now. It has not been a good day.
I was stuck on the GM side for most of the day. I also happened to be one of the only open non-self check-out register on that side. Needless to say, I was insanely busy. And it got worse during the last two hours of my shift.
Here's where I can't help but get pissed: every fricking time I'm on GM self-checks and there's two normal registers open, I'm being hounded to take customers on the self-checks. I'm supposed to help "keep the lines down". But when I'm the only damned register open on the GM side, I'm expected to fend for my damned self. No one goes heading over to self-checks, letting the attending cashier that they have to help keep my line managable.
Even worse? I had to pick up the slack for self-checks--the cashier was too busy socializing to notice the flashing red lights.
Pissed doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. And it ain't over yet. (Don't want to say what's going on, but I'll simply say that I'm so stressed right now that I could scream.)
What a wonderful week this is going to be.
--Weasel, "That light at the end of the tunnel? It's the headlamp from an on-coming train."
I was stuck on the GM side for most of the day. I also happened to be one of the only open non-self check-out register on that side. Needless to say, I was insanely busy. And it got worse during the last two hours of my shift.
Here's where I can't help but get pissed: every fricking time I'm on GM self-checks and there's two normal registers open, I'm being hounded to take customers on the self-checks. I'm supposed to help "keep the lines down". But when I'm the only damned register open on the GM side, I'm expected to fend for my damned self. No one goes heading over to self-checks, letting the attending cashier that they have to help keep my line managable.
Even worse? I had to pick up the slack for self-checks--the cashier was too busy socializing to notice the flashing red lights.
Pissed doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. And it ain't over yet. (Don't want to say what's going on, but I'll simply say that I'm so stressed right now that I could scream.)
What a wonderful week this is going to be.
--Weasel, "That light at the end of the tunnel? It's the headlamp from an on-coming train."
Friday, July 03, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
25 Random Things About Me
I did this because I was bored. Enjoy!
1. I eat M&Ms by color, from "worst to first". I start with brown (worst)and end with yellow (first).
2. My gateway drugs into the world of robophilia were Star Wars and Disney's The Black Hole.
3. I have never seen ET in a theatre.
4. I've been a cat person since I was four.
5. My idea of a perfect party is pizza, Pepsi, good music and my friends.
6. I have never had an actual haircut. I have only gotten my hair trimmed.
7. My favorite color is yellow.
8. My favorite vacation spot is wherever BotCon is.
9. I don't like expensive jewelry.
10. At most, I own three pairs of shoes: work shoes, casual shoes and "dressy" shoes.
11. The last time I wore a dress was during the formal dinner at OTFCC 2003.
12. My idea of celebrity is completely different than everyone else's.
13. I only have the television on as "background noise". I rarely actually watch anything.
14. I am a collector at heart. Always have been, always will be.
15. The most relevant part of the newspaper to me is the comics.
16. I enjoy a good action movie. I do not want to sit in a theatre and feel ways about stuff. Just give me explosions!
17. I enjoy bad jokes and terrible puns.
18. At one point in my life, the only things I watched on TV were animated. To this day, I still enjoy a good cartoon.
19. I have never been a fan of Billy Ray Cyrus.
20. I've been through enough hurricanes to know that I never want to go through another one again.
21. I cannot stand horror movies. Sure, I can watch them... then my brain won't shut off when I'm trying to sleep. Having an overactive imagination sucks.
22. The hotter the shower, the better.
23. I have a collection of notebooks that are filled with story and book ideas.
24. I have been a crazed Milwaukee Brewers fan since Prime took me to my first game three years ago.
25. One of my favorite channels is the Weather Channel.
And that's it. Hope you enjoyed. And if I get bored again, I may add to the list.
1. I eat M&Ms by color, from "worst to first". I start with brown (worst)and end with yellow (first).
2. My gateway drugs into the world of robophilia were Star Wars and Disney's The Black Hole.
3. I have never seen ET in a theatre.
4. I've been a cat person since I was four.
5. My idea of a perfect party is pizza, Pepsi, good music and my friends.
6. I have never had an actual haircut. I have only gotten my hair trimmed.
7. My favorite color is yellow.
8. My favorite vacation spot is wherever BotCon is.
9. I don't like expensive jewelry.
10. At most, I own three pairs of shoes: work shoes, casual shoes and "dressy" shoes.
11. The last time I wore a dress was during the formal dinner at OTFCC 2003.
12. My idea of celebrity is completely different than everyone else's.
13. I only have the television on as "background noise". I rarely actually watch anything.
14. I am a collector at heart. Always have been, always will be.
15. The most relevant part of the newspaper to me is the comics.
16. I enjoy a good action movie. I do not want to sit in a theatre and feel ways about stuff. Just give me explosions!
17. I enjoy bad jokes and terrible puns.
18. At one point in my life, the only things I watched on TV were animated. To this day, I still enjoy a good cartoon.
19. I have never been a fan of Billy Ray Cyrus.
20. I've been through enough hurricanes to know that I never want to go through another one again.
21. I cannot stand horror movies. Sure, I can watch them... then my brain won't shut off when I'm trying to sleep. Having an overactive imagination sucks.
22. The hotter the shower, the better.
23. I have a collection of notebooks that are filled with story and book ideas.
24. I have been a crazed Milwaukee Brewers fan since Prime took me to my first game three years ago.
25. One of my favorite channels is the Weather Channel.
And that's it. Hope you enjoyed. And if I get bored again, I may add to the list.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
In the Doldrums
Been feeling really down today. Just really, really down. Of course, how the heck am I supposed to feel here considering the news I got yesterday? So guess who showed up today, just like the guardian angel he is?
Prime and I went to BK to grab some more of the ROTF kid's meal toys; this week it's Ravage and Bumblebee. So--Bumblebees!!
If I didn't see the pattern before...
--Weasel, "Yeah, it'd be pretty obvious by now."
Prime and I went to BK to grab some more of the ROTF kid's meal toys; this week it's Ravage and Bumblebee. So--Bumblebees!!
If I didn't see the pattern before...
--Weasel, "Yeah, it'd be pretty obvious by now."
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The Man in the Mirror
I talked to my mother last night. Nothing terribly Earth-shattering, except this:
One of my aunts died suddenly. It happened this past Novemeber. She was fine in the morning, but when my uncle came back from work she had been dead for several hours. No one is really sure what happened.
Because of this, one of my uncles has decided to open up a restaurant. He's never been the type to take risks, but he's willing to start chasing his dream now. He figures he doesn't have a hell of a lot to lose, economy be damned.
I'm ready to start taking a few risks of my own. I'm thinking I don't have a lot to lose, either.
I started a fanfic last month. I'm giving myself until the end of this year to have it finished. Plenty of time, I'm thinking. After that is done, completely edited and as perfect as it will get, I'll start on something bigger.
I'm going to try and start on a manuscript. Fuck it, I'm going to take the plunge. Really now, what the hell do I have to lose? Better to at least try and chase my damned dream than sit on my ass and do nothing.
Here's hoping I don't screw it up too badly.
One of my aunts died suddenly. It happened this past Novemeber. She was fine in the morning, but when my uncle came back from work she had been dead for several hours. No one is really sure what happened.
Because of this, one of my uncles has decided to open up a restaurant. He's never been the type to take risks, but he's willing to start chasing his dream now. He figures he doesn't have a hell of a lot to lose, economy be damned.
I'm ready to start taking a few risks of my own. I'm thinking I don't have a lot to lose, either.
I started a fanfic last month. I'm giving myself until the end of this year to have it finished. Plenty of time, I'm thinking. After that is done, completely edited and as perfect as it will get, I'll start on something bigger.
I'm going to try and start on a manuscript. Fuck it, I'm going to take the plunge. Really now, what the hell do I have to lose? Better to at least try and chase my damned dream than sit on my ass and do nothing.
Here's hoping I don't screw it up too badly.
Friday, June 26, 2009
About Last Night...
Well, more like "About Yesterday", but I digress.
Yesterday was our little roadtip down to Madison to see ROTF in IMAX. It was a fairly uneventful, except towards the very last leg of the journey. More stupid road debris, what appeared to be pieces of a truck tire. This time it cost us a back tire. At least it wasn't the damned front windshield, thank Primus.
I wasn't able to take too many shots of the theatre; I got maybe two good ones. But I'm not complaining too much. I was there for the movie.
And what a movie it was. Prime summed it up best when we watched the last of the credits: "Critics are morons." For those of you who haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it. But it's safe to say that if you enjoyed the first, you'll enjoy the hell out of this. (I'd write a full review, but I refuse to act like a film critic. I watch what the hell I like, dammit.)
We didn't stay in Madison long; once the movie was over we headed back home. But we did stop at a nearby convenience store to get some more air in the donut that is supposed to be a spare tire. That wasn't all we got. I (finally!) found the Snickers nouga-bot bars. I grabbed four. (Haven't eaten them... yet. I intend to savor them and save the wrappers. So much cute yellow goodness.)
But oh yes, much awesomeness. And I want to go and see it again.... and again.... and again... and.....
--Weasel, "I'm not addicted. Really, I'm not..."
Yesterday was our little roadtip down to Madison to see ROTF in IMAX. It was a fairly uneventful, except towards the very last leg of the journey. More stupid road debris, what appeared to be pieces of a truck tire. This time it cost us a back tire. At least it wasn't the damned front windshield, thank Primus.
I wasn't able to take too many shots of the theatre; I got maybe two good ones. But I'm not complaining too much. I was there for the movie.
And what a movie it was. Prime summed it up best when we watched the last of the credits: "Critics are morons." For those of you who haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it. But it's safe to say that if you enjoyed the first, you'll enjoy the hell out of this. (I'd write a full review, but I refuse to act like a film critic. I watch what the hell I like, dammit.)
We didn't stay in Madison long; once the movie was over we headed back home. But we did stop at a nearby convenience store to get some more air in the donut that is supposed to be a spare tire. That wasn't all we got. I (finally!) found the Snickers nouga-bot bars. I grabbed four. (Haven't eaten them... yet. I intend to savor them and save the wrappers. So much cute yellow goodness.)
But oh yes, much awesomeness. And I want to go and see it again.... and again.... and again... and.....
--Weasel, "I'm not addicted. Really, I'm not..."
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Weasel, Out!
Just cleaned out the car; Prime and I will be leaving soon. Expect a full report tomorrow, since I'll probably be too exhausted to post anything major when we get back home. (If I do post anything tonight, it'll probably be extrememly short.) The camera's coming with me; I'm going to try and take a few pics of the theatre, if I can.
--Weasel, "This is gonna be great!"
--Weasel, "This is gonna be great!"
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Roadtrip!
So tomorrow's the day--Prime and I will be heading south to spend a couple of hours in an IMAX theatre. I can barely wait. Just knowing that I've given my money to a film that will piss off the rabid feminists gives me the warm fuzzies in ways you wouldn't believe.
--Weasel, "Yes, I'm evil that way. Who knew?"
--Weasel, "Yes, I'm evil that way. Who knew?"
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It's the Heat
Customers are cranky. So is management. It doesn't help matters any that we don't have any freaking AC in the building. And the amount of stupid I had to deal with today was insane. (I'll spare the details for now. Suffice to say it's been a really stupid couple of days.) Frankly, it's driving me crazy.
I hope I can hold out until Thursday. Everything will be awesome on Thursday.
--Weasel, really looking forward to her little roadtrip and movie.
I hope I can hold out until Thursday. Everything will be awesome on Thursday.
--Weasel, really looking forward to her little roadtrip and movie.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The Perfect Ending to a Not-So-Perfect Week
As I said before, this week hasn't been the world's greatest for me. To be totally honest, it has stunk out freaking loud.
But things are looking up, at last.
Today, Prime and I had a "day out", so to speak--it's rare that my days off (whenever scheduling feels like it) coincide with his (standard Saturday/Sunday). We hit our local comic shop and Prime picked up a nice stack of comics. (Just read Spotlight: Cliffjumper; good story, but a huge hankie warning on that one!) Afterwards, we headed over to my old store to hunt for these little guys. The old hellhole was a bust, so we headed to the nearby Target (a place at which I've also worked). They had them, but only the single packs, no six-pack boxes.
Prime grabbed a huge stack of single packs (he would've wiped out the display, but restrained himself), then we headed over to Toys. Prime spotted some blisterpacked packs (...pack pack packpackpaaaaaack) and a movie Bumblebee 'Wacky Wobbler'. Needless to say, the not-a-bobblehead had to come home with us. But it got better.
Target had Bumble Spud. On sale. (Yeah, okay, a dollar off, whatever.) So he had to come along as well. There was no way I was leaving him behind.
After we bought our swag, we headed to the Target across town. Prime figured that there was a good chance that they would have a hobby box or two. He was right; we snagged all three of their hobby boxes. After spending way too much money, we headed home.
We decided to make a quick stop at our local Burger King; they'll have ROTF kid's meals and we want to snag the displays and the like. Because we're dorks. So I headed in and left my information with the manager while Prime opened up one of our new hobby boxes.
Poor Prime. When I returned to our car, I noticed a somewhat pained expression on his face. It seems that the first boxed pack he opened had a rare card. An autographed card. Autographed by Mark Ryan.
I let loose the shriek to end all shrieks. Prime knew at that moment he was screwed; I was claiming that card as my own. Yeah, he kinda hated me for a bit. (Okay, it was longer than a bit...)
When we got home, Prime opened the rest of our cards. Remember the blisterpacks he had spotted? Prime had snagged one of them, after a little pawing to find one with a backer card that wasn't chewed (completism is a mental disease, and Prime's case is particularly gruesome). The first pack inside was a bust, but the second one he opened.... had an autographed card. A Mark Ryan autographed card. So now we both have one. 1:91 odds, according to the packs, and this happens. Heck of a lucky break, I tell you.
(Prime says: Oh, right, yeah. Five other autographed cards to track-and-acquire. Megan Fox's from the first set isn't hard enough with all the pathetic horndogs out there--now I have to fight with lonely women with disposable income to get Shia LeBeouf's, and nutbar basement-dwellers for Peter Cullen's. A. A. R. G. H.)
Perfect ending to a sucky week. The little angel strikes yet again.
(Oh, shut up.)
Quiet, grouchicon.
--Weasel, "Maybe this week hasn't been so bad after all..."
But things are looking up, at last.
Today, Prime and I had a "day out", so to speak--it's rare that my days off (whenever scheduling feels like it) coincide with his (standard Saturday/Sunday). We hit our local comic shop and Prime picked up a nice stack of comics. (Just read Spotlight: Cliffjumper; good story, but a huge hankie warning on that one!) Afterwards, we headed over to my old store to hunt for these little guys. The old hellhole was a bust, so we headed to the nearby Target (a place at which I've also worked). They had them, but only the single packs, no six-pack boxes.
Prime grabbed a huge stack of single packs (he would've wiped out the display, but restrained himself), then we headed over to Toys. Prime spotted some blisterpacked packs (...pack pack packpackpaaaaaack) and a movie Bumblebee 'Wacky Wobbler'. Needless to say, the not-a-bobblehead had to come home with us. But it got better.
Target had Bumble Spud. On sale. (Yeah, okay, a dollar off, whatever.) So he had to come along as well. There was no way I was leaving him behind.
After we bought our swag, we headed to the Target across town. Prime figured that there was a good chance that they would have a hobby box or two. He was right; we snagged all three of their hobby boxes. After spending way too much money, we headed home.
We decided to make a quick stop at our local Burger King; they'll have ROTF kid's meals and we want to snag the displays and the like. Because we're dorks. So I headed in and left my information with the manager while Prime opened up one of our new hobby boxes.
Poor Prime. When I returned to our car, I noticed a somewhat pained expression on his face. It seems that the first boxed pack he opened had a rare card. An autographed card. Autographed by Mark Ryan.
I let loose the shriek to end all shrieks. Prime knew at that moment he was screwed; I was claiming that card as my own. Yeah, he kinda hated me for a bit. (Okay, it was longer than a bit...)
When we got home, Prime opened the rest of our cards. Remember the blisterpacks he had spotted? Prime had snagged one of them, after a little pawing to find one with a backer card that wasn't chewed (completism is a mental disease, and Prime's case is particularly gruesome). The first pack inside was a bust, but the second one he opened.... had an autographed card. A Mark Ryan autographed card. So now we both have one. 1:91 odds, according to the packs, and this happens. Heck of a lucky break, I tell you.
(Prime says: Oh, right, yeah. Five other autographed cards to track-and-acquire. Megan Fox's from the first set isn't hard enough with all the pathetic horndogs out there--now I have to fight with lonely women with disposable income to get Shia LeBeouf's, and nutbar basement-dwellers for Peter Cullen's. A. A. R. G. H.)
Perfect ending to a sucky week. The little angel strikes yet again.
(Oh, shut up.)
Quiet, grouchicon.
--Weasel, "Maybe this week hasn't been so bad after all..."
Friday, June 19, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Chaos Bringer Edition
[clockwise from top: unreleased Generation One Unicron (planet mode), Transformers: Cybertron deluxe Unicron (robot mode), Robot Heroes Unicron, unreleased Generation One Unicron (robot mode), Transformers: Cybertron disembodied creepy-ass tentacular-locomotion-enabled head of Unicron (that'd be the horn point you see at bottom, as well as the shadow it casts above), Transformers: Armada Unicron (robot mode)]
The many faces of Unicron
The many faces of Unicron
The Week From Hell
(You might notice that things look different here. It's all thanks to Prime and I'm giving him a huge shout-out for his hard work. He did it all and I really appreciate everything. Thanks for bringing the blog into the modern age, big guy! It looks great and I love it!!)
Is it over yet? Because this week has completely and totally kicked the hell out of my ass. I am not even kidding.
This past Saturday I had to call into work. I was so blasted ill-feeling that I did not want to move. In fact, I felt so bad that I was afraid I was about to spew while I was on the phone. I spent most of Saturday laying in bed, praying to Primus that I wouldn't lose control of my own damned stomach. Not fun, I tell you.
Sunday was a bit better. Monday went straight to hell, though.
Monday was incredibly full of stupid. More than usual. I won't go into the details, but it was bad. Felt miserable at work, but managed to score a Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen microfiber throw. I know this one will keep me quite warm; it's got Bumblebee on it. Sooooooooooo cute. :)
I was off Tuesday, but it didn't get any better. Well, things were fine... until dinner.
I had just finished cooking my dinner in the microwave and was trying to get the bowl out. The bowl, which contained very hot liquid, refused to cooperate. Instead of sliding out, it tipped and spilled--all over my right hand and wrist.
I screamed loudly. Prime thought I was being attacked by a huge venomous spider. I manged to choke out a "No" and shoved my arm under the now running faucet. Prime raced upstairs, saw the mess and asked what happened. I had to force myself to speak, I was hurting that much.
I went upstairs and soaked my wrist in the bathtub for at least an hour. It was pretty badly scalded but it never blistered, thank Primus. (The frightening thing was it looked as if it was trying to blister. When I noticed that, I shoved my arm back under the faucet.) Needless to say, my dinner was ruined. Had to order pizza instead.
As of right now, my wrist is bandaged. It's still a nice shade of MSPaint red, but it doesn't hurt so badly. I've been coating it with aloe vera gel (which is slowly staining my skin Smurf blue), taking Advil PM to help me sleep at night and soaking it in cool water to keep the pain at bay. It's healing, but trying to move my wrist can be irritating at its best and outright painful at its worst. The worst thing? I'd love to cuddle with my Slumblebee right now (it would make me feel so much better) but I'm afraid to touch him. The last thing I want to do is stain him. Right now, I'm afraid to even touch my clothing or blankets; I don't need any of my stuff spattered with blue splotches.
But things are getting better. My store now has a nice big display of ROTF voyagers and deluxes parked in front of the toy department. And I managed to snag myself a Cannon Bumblebee. The picture on his cardback is utterly adorable; in robot mode he has this "Who, me?" look on his face. It almost looks as if he was caught with one hand in the energon-goodies jar and he's trying to play innocent. Seriously cute, believe me.
Next week will rock. I'll be seeing ROTF in IMAX. I can barely wait. (Wonder if I should take Slumblebee along? You know, just for fun.)
And Bumblebee's track record remains unbeaten. Have a few crappy days, the little bugger manages to pop up. Weird.
--Weasel, "I swear, you'd think he was my guardian angel this happens so often..."
Is it over yet? Because this week has completely and totally kicked the hell out of my ass. I am not even kidding.
This past Saturday I had to call into work. I was so blasted ill-feeling that I did not want to move. In fact, I felt so bad that I was afraid I was about to spew while I was on the phone. I spent most of Saturday laying in bed, praying to Primus that I wouldn't lose control of my own damned stomach. Not fun, I tell you.
Sunday was a bit better. Monday went straight to hell, though.
Monday was incredibly full of stupid. More than usual. I won't go into the details, but it was bad. Felt miserable at work, but managed to score a Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen microfiber throw. I know this one will keep me quite warm; it's got Bumblebee on it. Sooooooooooo cute. :)
I was off Tuesday, but it didn't get any better. Well, things were fine... until dinner.
I had just finished cooking my dinner in the microwave and was trying to get the bowl out. The bowl, which contained very hot liquid, refused to cooperate. Instead of sliding out, it tipped and spilled--all over my right hand and wrist.
I screamed loudly. Prime thought I was being attacked by a huge venomous spider. I manged to choke out a "No" and shoved my arm under the now running faucet. Prime raced upstairs, saw the mess and asked what happened. I had to force myself to speak, I was hurting that much.
I went upstairs and soaked my wrist in the bathtub for at least an hour. It was pretty badly scalded but it never blistered, thank Primus. (The frightening thing was it looked as if it was trying to blister. When I noticed that, I shoved my arm back under the faucet.) Needless to say, my dinner was ruined. Had to order pizza instead.
As of right now, my wrist is bandaged. It's still a nice shade of MSPaint red, but it doesn't hurt so badly. I've been coating it with aloe vera gel (which is slowly staining my skin Smurf blue), taking Advil PM to help me sleep at night and soaking it in cool water to keep the pain at bay. It's healing, but trying to move my wrist can be irritating at its best and outright painful at its worst. The worst thing? I'd love to cuddle with my Slumblebee right now (it would make me feel so much better) but I'm afraid to touch him. The last thing I want to do is stain him. Right now, I'm afraid to even touch my clothing or blankets; I don't need any of my stuff spattered with blue splotches.
But things are getting better. My store now has a nice big display of ROTF voyagers and deluxes parked in front of the toy department. And I managed to snag myself a Cannon Bumblebee. The picture on his cardback is utterly adorable; in robot mode he has this "Who, me?" look on his face. It almost looks as if he was caught with one hand in the energon-goodies jar and he's trying to play innocent. Seriously cute, believe me.
Next week will rock. I'll be seeing ROTF in IMAX. I can barely wait. (Wonder if I should take Slumblebee along? You know, just for fun.)
And Bumblebee's track record remains unbeaten. Have a few crappy days, the little bugger manages to pop up. Weird.
--Weasel, "I swear, you'd think he was my guardian angel this happens so often..."
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Pardon Me While I Bitch a Little...
I'm not feeling the greatest at the moment; been a little sick for the past few days. It's getting better, but the whole 'coming-and-going' thing is irritating as hell.
I'm really sick of work. The amount of BS I've been putting up with seems to have increased exponentially. And I don't know how much more I can take.
For the past few days, I've been stuck on normal registers. Everyone knows how much I love being away from my self-checks (I don't...and a lot of other cashiers simply don't know how to run them...or don't care). If I haven't been doing that, then I've been stuck people greeting. Not something I enjoy, though I'm actually decent at it. (Hell, I actually know how to use the damned Telxon and printer. Most everyone else doesn't or won't.)
Customers are stupid, management doesn't know what the hell is going on and I'm feeling burnt out. AGAIN.
I miss BotCon already, and who knows when it'll be next year.
And I get it, I hate my job, why don't I find another one, yadda yadda. If it were really that simple...
I'm really sick of work. The amount of BS I've been putting up with seems to have increased exponentially. And I don't know how much more I can take.
For the past few days, I've been stuck on normal registers. Everyone knows how much I love being away from my self-checks (I don't...and a lot of other cashiers simply don't know how to run them...or don't care). If I haven't been doing that, then I've been stuck people greeting. Not something I enjoy, though I'm actually decent at it. (Hell, I actually know how to use the damned Telxon and printer. Most everyone else doesn't or won't.)
Customers are stupid, management doesn't know what the hell is going on and I'm feeling burnt out. AGAIN.
I miss BotCon already, and who knows when it'll be next year.
And I get it, I hate my job, why don't I find another one, yadda yadda. If it were really that simple...
Friday, June 12, 2009
Friday Photoblog: Walk of Fame Edition
Godzilla's star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Too bad the big guy wasn't there to sign autographs. ;)
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Best News Ever!
Prime and I will be seeing Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen in IMAX on the 25th. There will be much awesome. I can barely wait.
--Weasel, "Best news I've heard in a while."
--Weasel, "Best news I've heard in a while."
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Detritus
Most of my vacation laundry is already done; I've only got two shirts to wash and I'll be ready for next year. Once they've been washed and dried, I'll be done and I can re-pack the suitcase. It's never too early to get ready for next year.
Yesterday ended up being a "yardwork day". Seems we have a group of maple saplings that have taken up residence near the house. Normally, I wouldn't care but these are close enough to damage the foundation. So I spent about three quarters of an hour ripping up trees. It doesn't sound terribly demanding, but it actually is. My legs and arms are still a bit sore.
I also learned a little about our front yard. Namely, that it's a haven for spiders. After pulling up a few saplings, I'd see at least three spiders scurrying about, looking for shelter. Most were pretty small, but some were large enough to be intimidating. I kept my distance from the larger ones. (One particularly larger specimen would fidget nervously every time I came close. Rather than bother it, I gave it some space.)
I don't mind spiders too much, especially out in the wild. In the house it's a different story. But out in the yard, I'm fine with most of them. There's only one species that I don't like: the writing spider.
These were very common in North Carolina. It doesn't look too threatening, until you get close to the web. If you get too close to it, it will sit in the center of the web and bounce rapidly. Instead of a spider's web, it now looks like a trampoline. It's a disturbing sight to a six year old. Even worse was the old wives tale attatched to the creature: If you whispered the name of someone you hated three times to the spider, it would write the victim's name in its web and they would die.
Again, a frightening thing for six year old. Needless to say, I was never fond of that particular species. I may like spiders in general, but I never got over my fear of the writing spider.
Thankfully, we don't seem to have them in Wisconsin...
Yesterday ended up being a "yardwork day". Seems we have a group of maple saplings that have taken up residence near the house. Normally, I wouldn't care but these are close enough to damage the foundation. So I spent about three quarters of an hour ripping up trees. It doesn't sound terribly demanding, but it actually is. My legs and arms are still a bit sore.
I also learned a little about our front yard. Namely, that it's a haven for spiders. After pulling up a few saplings, I'd see at least three spiders scurrying about, looking for shelter. Most were pretty small, but some were large enough to be intimidating. I kept my distance from the larger ones. (One particularly larger specimen would fidget nervously every time I came close. Rather than bother it, I gave it some space.)
I don't mind spiders too much, especially out in the wild. In the house it's a different story. But out in the yard, I'm fine with most of them. There's only one species that I don't like: the writing spider.
These were very common in North Carolina. It doesn't look too threatening, until you get close to the web. If you get too close to it, it will sit in the center of the web and bounce rapidly. Instead of a spider's web, it now looks like a trampoline. It's a disturbing sight to a six year old. Even worse was the old wives tale attatched to the creature: If you whispered the name of someone you hated three times to the spider, it would write the victim's name in its web and they would die.
Again, a frightening thing for six year old. Needless to say, I was never fond of that particular species. I may like spiders in general, but I never got over my fear of the writing spider.
Thankfully, we don't seem to have them in Wisconsin...
Friday, June 05, 2009
Thursday, June 04, 2009
June Gloom
I'm listening to a suitably sad piece of music right now. I can't help it; I'm still feeling a bit down. I'll have to get back to the real world soon (this Saturday, specifically) and I am dreading it. But for now, I'll try and finish what I've started.
05/30/2009
We got up relatively early that Saturday; Prime wanted to hit the IDW panel while I had to head to one of the autograph lines. Thank heavens the buses in California actually run at a decent hour on the weekends. (Well... the Pasadena ARTS 10, not so much. It's not hard to figure out why their fares are fifty cents a pop when the Metro's a buck-twenty-five--they run less time and they're all shorties.)
By the time we got to the convention center, two very long lines had already formed. One was for Peter Cullen, the other (which was located at a different building entirely) was for Weird Al. I headed for the second line, since I absolutely had to have Weird Al's autograph on my Animated Wreck-Gar. To my surprise, it wasn't that long of a wait; we had some pretty good conversations to help keep things lively. And best of all, I got an autograph and shook Weird Al's hand. Total nerdgasm!
After all was said and done, I headed back to the convention center proper. Prime and I took in the Activision panel, along with the Animated panel which featured Weird Al and David Kaye. Interesting stuff, save for the occasional stupid question.
Then came the big one: The Hasbro review panel.
This one is always packed, since this is where Hasbro does their huge unveiling.... and I get to see firsthand how Primus-awful broke I'll be. And trust me, I will be one quite broke yet very happy nerd. Lots of movie stuff and a good amount of Animated coming down the pike. Like I said, I'll be broke, but very happy. But after the preview, I had to jump ship early; I had business to take of in the dealer room. At 2PM, Mark Ryan would be there, signing autographs. I had two movie Bumblebees that needed to have his signature on them.
After getting them signed, I ran into my friend Shawn, who asked if I could possibly get Mark to sign a greeting card which would be sent to our friend Stogey, who is currently stationed in Iraq (and is Prime's younger brother's C.O. or whatever it's called). So back through the line I went. Mark actually teased me a little bit when he saw me again. :blush: But I got that card signed. (It was no prob, Shawn. I'm glad to help.) By con's end, that card had scrawl from almost every person of note to attend--you have to admit, that's cool as hell.
Afterwards, I hit the club panel with Prime and stayed behind for Peter Cullen's panel; Prime decided to hit the dealer room once again. I'm actually pretty glad he did. He probably would not have been able to deal with some of the stupid that occurred at Mr. Cullen's panel. Especially one of the last questions.
The very last person to ask Mr. Cullen a question had to be the world's biggest flaming idiot. I do not exaggerate when I say this. Why? Because he asked Peter Cullen if he had ever read any Optimus Prime/Megatron slash fics. The entire panel room burst into a pained howl as Idiot Boy chirped, "I win." Thank Primus Rik Alvarez yanked the mic out of that moron's hand. I swear, I have never been more embarassed in my life. Way to go, dipshit. If panel attendees have to submit questions in writing beforehand beginning next year, we ALL know who to blame. Blame and commit grievous bodily harm upon. Yeah--hope you're not particularly fond of any of your limbs.... we's takun dem.
Not long after, the show closed for the day. Since Prime, DA and I were signed up for the Paramount party, we headed up to Shawn's hotel room and yapped a bit. At quarter til 7, we headed back downstairs to wait for the buses that would whisk us away for a night of revelry. Shawn nearly forgot his ticket, so he dashed back upstairs to get it. Prime, DA and I waited for him. I am ever glad we did.
Not two minutes later, we saw Peter Cullen walking through the hallway. You could have knocked me over with a feather, I was so surprised.
DA and I managed to say hello. Now here's where it gets really cool: as he walked by, Mr. Cullen gave me a friendly squeeze on the arm. I could have fainted. Optimus Prime touched me! :insane fangirl squealing: We both thanked him profusely for coming. Me, I also blushed profusely. Prime thought it was quite hilarious. XD
Once we got outside and waited for a bit, we hopped on board the buses and were on our way. It took us a bit to get there, but it was worth it. Caught sight of a large ROTF billboard on the way.... yes, it was 'Bee.
There was a concert, food and much awesomeness. Weird Al was there, having his picture taken with adoring fans. Tyrese Gibson (Epps) and Ratchet came by for a visit and Ironhide was parked near the front. He didn't seem to mind me posing for a picture with him. But the best was yet to come.
Every one of the partygoers were given a wristband--some were blue, others were yellow. Prime, DA and I got yellow. Everyone who had a blue wristband were called first, while those of who had yellow waited. About twenty minutes later, the yellows were called. So off we went to the front of the studio.
We were led to the Paramount theatre, where we had surrender our cameras and cell phones before we were allowed to take any seats. The three of us managed to grab front row seats. How freaking cool is that? So we settled in and got ready for a show.
One of the Hasbro head honchos, Greg Lombardo, hopped up on the stage in front of the screen and announced what we would be viewing. We'd be seeing the trailer, which wasn't anything we hadn't seen before, but we'd see it in a much better theatre. Then a voice behind-and-right piped up, "I don't want to see that." We all turned and looked, confused.
It was Michael Bay. I actually yelled, "Oh my GOD!" Yeah, I was that surprised.
He hopped up on stage and said we were going to watch two scenes: One involving Devastator and the other was a Bumblebee fight scene. When I heard "Bumblebee", I cheered.
Without giving away too much, all I can say is this--Devastator is scary as hell and Bumblebee is now a badass. (Hey, it only took 25 years...) Spine-ripping badass. Once we had seen the sheer awesomeness, we picked up our confiscated items and rejoined the party.
At around midnight, we went back to the convention center. Prime, DA and I caught a cab and went back to our home away from home, the Travelodge. It didn't take me long to collapse and go to sleep.
05/31/2009
Prime and I got to the 'Con just in time for the Hasbro Design panel. Interesting stuff, I tell you (but can't show you). Afterwards, I was going to hit the dealer room, until I noticed something.
There was literally a ton of general admission people (hereby referred to as "shlubs") crowded around that huge Bumblebee statue. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but a mess of these dipsticks forgot or didn't care that barricades are erected for a fucking reason. There were shlubs going up under the damned cords, touching the statue and letting their kids try and climb on the blasted thing. Why, yes! That is dangerous as hell! Thanks for noticing.
I spent some time acting as Bumblebee's bodyguard. If I pissed any of those damned shlubs off, tough. If they don't have the common sense to fucking follow rules, too damn bad. They don't fucking need to be there. Grow a brain or GTFO.
I'm not sure for how long I did that. After ten minutes of watching it happen with me, though, Prime went to the club store to get a Fun Pub employee to make an address over the PA, which she did. But, you know, stupid people... ears don't work so well.
The stupidity did die down a bit, eventually, so I hit the dealer room. Took the Hasbro challenge and got a chance to spin the big prize wheel. I won a Robot Hero; I picked Bumblebee. Prime continued to pine after his personal TF Holy Grail, the G2 Megatron ATB (which you can sort of see here, it's pretty much dead-center), then took one last load to Shawn and his friend's vehicle while I took one last look around the dealer room. I bought two Stan Bush CDs and shipped them along with a small load that just wouldn't fit in the back of our friend's truck. UPS Store sure overcharges...
Things were winding down. You could feel it. The huge crowd in the dealer room began to thin down and it got thinner still after the 3PM drawing for a free trip to next year's 'Con. Although Fun Publications decided to keep the dealer room open an extra half hour due to the overwhelming walk-in response (a television commercial was probably the main culprit... promises of a free toy to the first one hundred kids under whatever age helped, I'm sure), it still didn't help assuage the mental ache I could feel coming on. Though chatting with my friends did ease it just slightly. What can I say--the whole experience makes for a very nice high.... from which I have no choice but to come down.
Soon enough, we were ushered out of the dealer room. As I stood in the hallway, a small group of dealers began to take down the barricade surrounding the Bumblebee statue. They were taking him down. That was a hard sight to see. I took video of it. I also got a couple of pictures with him, and with permission I was able to touch him. A few times, I caught myself pretty close to tears. It wasn't just the fact that the statue was being taken down; it was also the realization that it was over. It was truly over. I may, sometime in the future, post the video. And yes, my voice breaks at least once. It was pretty hard on me, all things considered.
I took a couple of pictures of the other statues and the convention center itself, said good-bye to Bumblebee, and we left. Spent a good portion of time talking at the hotel room. Talking and packing. I never really mean to do so, but I always wind up packing slowly. Not hard to guess why, is it?
The next day, DA left for home. Prime and I flew back home not long after. The ride via Prime Time Shuttle... um, after we were picked up, the driver stopped at the Hilton to pick up an indeterminate number of people (they were no-shows), then same at the Sheraton. Two guys, one girl, all obvious fellow attendees. They got on and maintained a 'Con-versation... which we might've joined, but for, well, one of them stank like death mixed with ass sausage. At least, that's how I thought of it until Prime described it as ONIONSKUNK. His description is better. Or worse, however one looks at it. It was... it was memorable. How I wish it weren't. People like that (and we don't know which one it was) give convention geeks a bad name. Or bad reek.
At least the flight was uneventful. And not full like the plane was, previously.
Was this one of the best conventions I had ever attended? I think so. But it wasn't just the fact I got to sit in panels and buy cool swag. It was seeing my friends again. It was making new friends and having fun with a group of people that share my interest. That's what keeps bringing me back to BotCon. And that's what keeps me happy.
I can hardly wait until next year, whenever and wherever it may be.
05/30/2009
We got up relatively early that Saturday; Prime wanted to hit the IDW panel while I had to head to one of the autograph lines. Thank heavens the buses in California actually run at a decent hour on the weekends. (Well... the Pasadena ARTS 10, not so much. It's not hard to figure out why their fares are fifty cents a pop when the Metro's a buck-twenty-five--they run less time and they're all shorties.)
By the time we got to the convention center, two very long lines had already formed. One was for Peter Cullen, the other (which was located at a different building entirely) was for Weird Al. I headed for the second line, since I absolutely had to have Weird Al's autograph on my Animated Wreck-Gar. To my surprise, it wasn't that long of a wait; we had some pretty good conversations to help keep things lively. And best of all, I got an autograph and shook Weird Al's hand. Total nerdgasm!
After all was said and done, I headed back to the convention center proper. Prime and I took in the Activision panel, along with the Animated panel which featured Weird Al and David Kaye. Interesting stuff, save for the occasional stupid question.
Then came the big one: The Hasbro review panel.
This one is always packed, since this is where Hasbro does their huge unveiling.... and I get to see firsthand how Primus-awful broke I'll be. And trust me, I will be one quite broke yet very happy nerd. Lots of movie stuff and a good amount of Animated coming down the pike. Like I said, I'll be broke, but very happy. But after the preview, I had to jump ship early; I had business to take of in the dealer room. At 2PM, Mark Ryan would be there, signing autographs. I had two movie Bumblebees that needed to have his signature on them.
After getting them signed, I ran into my friend Shawn, who asked if I could possibly get Mark to sign a greeting card which would be sent to our friend Stogey, who is currently stationed in Iraq (and is Prime's younger brother's C.O. or whatever it's called). So back through the line I went. Mark actually teased me a little bit when he saw me again. :blush: But I got that card signed. (It was no prob, Shawn. I'm glad to help.) By con's end, that card had scrawl from almost every person of note to attend--you have to admit, that's cool as hell.
Afterwards, I hit the club panel with Prime and stayed behind for Peter Cullen's panel; Prime decided to hit the dealer room once again. I'm actually pretty glad he did. He probably would not have been able to deal with some of the stupid that occurred at Mr. Cullen's panel. Especially one of the last questions.
The very last person to ask Mr. Cullen a question had to be the world's biggest flaming idiot. I do not exaggerate when I say this. Why? Because he asked Peter Cullen if he had ever read any Optimus Prime/Megatron slash fics. The entire panel room burst into a pained howl as Idiot Boy chirped, "I win." Thank Primus Rik Alvarez yanked the mic out of that moron's hand. I swear, I have never been more embarassed in my life. Way to go, dipshit. If panel attendees have to submit questions in writing beforehand beginning next year, we ALL know who to blame. Blame and commit grievous bodily harm upon. Yeah--hope you're not particularly fond of any of your limbs.... we's takun dem.
Not long after, the show closed for the day. Since Prime, DA and I were signed up for the Paramount party, we headed up to Shawn's hotel room and yapped a bit. At quarter til 7, we headed back downstairs to wait for the buses that would whisk us away for a night of revelry. Shawn nearly forgot his ticket, so he dashed back upstairs to get it. Prime, DA and I waited for him. I am ever glad we did.
Not two minutes later, we saw Peter Cullen walking through the hallway. You could have knocked me over with a feather, I was so surprised.
DA and I managed to say hello. Now here's where it gets really cool: as he walked by, Mr. Cullen gave me a friendly squeeze on the arm. I could have fainted. Optimus Prime touched me! :insane fangirl squealing: We both thanked him profusely for coming. Me, I also blushed profusely. Prime thought it was quite hilarious. XD
Once we got outside and waited for a bit, we hopped on board the buses and were on our way. It took us a bit to get there, but it was worth it. Caught sight of a large ROTF billboard on the way.... yes, it was 'Bee.
There was a concert, food and much awesomeness. Weird Al was there, having his picture taken with adoring fans. Tyrese Gibson (Epps) and Ratchet came by for a visit and Ironhide was parked near the front. He didn't seem to mind me posing for a picture with him. But the best was yet to come.
Every one of the partygoers were given a wristband--some were blue, others were yellow. Prime, DA and I got yellow. Everyone who had a blue wristband were called first, while those of who had yellow waited. About twenty minutes later, the yellows were called. So off we went to the front of the studio.
We were led to the Paramount theatre, where we had surrender our cameras and cell phones before we were allowed to take any seats. The three of us managed to grab front row seats. How freaking cool is that? So we settled in and got ready for a show.
One of the Hasbro head honchos, Greg Lombardo, hopped up on the stage in front of the screen and announced what we would be viewing. We'd be seeing the trailer, which wasn't anything we hadn't seen before, but we'd see it in a much better theatre. Then a voice behind-and-right piped up, "I don't want to see that." We all turned and looked, confused.
It was Michael Bay. I actually yelled, "Oh my GOD!" Yeah, I was that surprised.
He hopped up on stage and said we were going to watch two scenes: One involving Devastator and the other was a Bumblebee fight scene. When I heard "Bumblebee", I cheered.
Without giving away too much, all I can say is this--Devastator is scary as hell and Bumblebee is now a badass. (Hey, it only took 25 years...) Spine-ripping badass. Once we had seen the sheer awesomeness, we picked up our confiscated items and rejoined the party.
At around midnight, we went back to the convention center. Prime, DA and I caught a cab and went back to our home away from home, the Travelodge. It didn't take me long to collapse and go to sleep.
05/31/2009
Prime and I got to the 'Con just in time for the Hasbro Design panel. Interesting stuff, I tell you (but can't show you). Afterwards, I was going to hit the dealer room, until I noticed something.
There was literally a ton of general admission people (hereby referred to as "shlubs") crowded around that huge Bumblebee statue. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but a mess of these dipsticks forgot or didn't care that barricades are erected for a fucking reason. There were shlubs going up under the damned cords, touching the statue and letting their kids try and climb on the blasted thing. Why, yes! That is dangerous as hell! Thanks for noticing.
I spent some time acting as Bumblebee's bodyguard. If I pissed any of those damned shlubs off, tough. If they don't have the common sense to fucking follow rules, too damn bad. They don't fucking need to be there. Grow a brain or GTFO.
I'm not sure for how long I did that. After ten minutes of watching it happen with me, though, Prime went to the club store to get a Fun Pub employee to make an address over the PA, which she did. But, you know, stupid people... ears don't work so well.
The stupidity did die down a bit, eventually, so I hit the dealer room. Took the Hasbro challenge and got a chance to spin the big prize wheel. I won a Robot Hero; I picked Bumblebee. Prime continued to pine after his personal TF Holy Grail, the G2 Megatron ATB (which you can sort of see here, it's pretty much dead-center), then took one last load to Shawn and his friend's vehicle while I took one last look around the dealer room. I bought two Stan Bush CDs and shipped them along with a small load that just wouldn't fit in the back of our friend's truck. UPS Store sure overcharges...
Things were winding down. You could feel it. The huge crowd in the dealer room began to thin down and it got thinner still after the 3PM drawing for a free trip to next year's 'Con. Although Fun Publications decided to keep the dealer room open an extra half hour due to the overwhelming walk-in response (a television commercial was probably the main culprit... promises of a free toy to the first one hundred kids under whatever age helped, I'm sure), it still didn't help assuage the mental ache I could feel coming on. Though chatting with my friends did ease it just slightly. What can I say--the whole experience makes for a very nice high.... from which I have no choice but to come down.
Soon enough, we were ushered out of the dealer room. As I stood in the hallway, a small group of dealers began to take down the barricade surrounding the Bumblebee statue. They were taking him down. That was a hard sight to see. I took video of it. I also got a couple of pictures with him, and with permission I was able to touch him. A few times, I caught myself pretty close to tears. It wasn't just the fact that the statue was being taken down; it was also the realization that it was over. It was truly over. I may, sometime in the future, post the video. And yes, my voice breaks at least once. It was pretty hard on me, all things considered.
I took a couple of pictures of the other statues and the convention center itself, said good-bye to Bumblebee, and we left. Spent a good portion of time talking at the hotel room. Talking and packing. I never really mean to do so, but I always wind up packing slowly. Not hard to guess why, is it?
The next day, DA left for home. Prime and I flew back home not long after. The ride via Prime Time Shuttle... um, after we were picked up, the driver stopped at the Hilton to pick up an indeterminate number of people (they were no-shows), then same at the Sheraton. Two guys, one girl, all obvious fellow attendees. They got on and maintained a 'Con-versation... which we might've joined, but for, well, one of them stank like death mixed with ass sausage. At least, that's how I thought of it until Prime described it as ONIONSKUNK. His description is better. Or worse, however one looks at it. It was... it was memorable. How I wish it weren't. People like that (and we don't know which one it was) give convention geeks a bad name. Or bad reek.
At least the flight was uneventful. And not full like the plane was, previously.
Was this one of the best conventions I had ever attended? I think so. But it wasn't just the fact I got to sit in panels and buy cool swag. It was seeing my friends again. It was making new friends and having fun with a group of people that share my interest. That's what keeps bringing me back to BotCon. And that's what keeps me happy.
I can hardly wait until next year, whenever and wherever it may be.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
All Good Things...
I've got a Bumblebee temporary tattoo on my left hand. It's fading now as we speak. Somehow, that seems very appropriate.
It's over. It's really over.
Too tired to post much of anything today and don't know if I'll be able to post tomorrow, since it's the travel day. I'll try on Tuesday. I'm about to crash even as I'm typing.
Primus, I'm actually rather melancholy about all this. It's really over.
--Weasel, "I know all good things must come to an end, but why so soon?"
It's over. It's really over.
Too tired to post much of anything today and don't know if I'll be able to post tomorrow, since it's the travel day. I'll try on Tuesday. I'm about to crash even as I'm typing.
Primus, I'm actually rather melancholy about all this. It's really over.
--Weasel, "I know all good things must come to an end, but why so soon?"
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Day One
I'm back, just as exhausted as ever. A quick word of warning: I probably won't be updating tomorrow. I'll be coming back from the Paramount Studios party well after midnight. So I won't be alert enough to turn on Alexa, much less type. Expect something on Sunday, though.
Got up this morning at a little after seven; I was up and dressed within the span of about five minutes. (Odd fact about yours truly: I never like getting up in the morning. I hate it. But when I'm at the convention, that changes rapidly.) Prime took a bit, yet again. He had to shower, get dressed, eat a bit of breakfast (Sandwiches. Nummy.) and all that other wonderful slag. So we were a bit late leaving the hotel. But it didn't matter; we got to our stop, got picked up by the 686 and were on our way.
It was a bit of a walk to the convention center and there was quite a crowd when we arrived. A pretty decent number seemed to be either picking up their pre-registration items or hitting the club store. Prime and I hit the panel room, where we took in the various and sundry panels.
First up was the Collector Club panel, which dealt with the club magazine. Fairly interesting stuff. Next up was Stan Bush and Vince Dicola, followed by the movie writers Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci. For the last panel, I had to ask a quick question about movie Bumblebee. As if I would ask about anyone else. (I'll explain it later.)
After those three panels were done, we waited in line for the opening of the dealer room. It was an hour long wait, but it was worth it.
The dealer room is literally the heart of the 'Con. Everybody goes there. If you're looking for anyone, just head to the dealer room and you will find them. Today was no exception. Prime and I ran into someone we hadn't seen in a few years.
But it got even more awesome.
As I was standing near the IDW table, waiting for Prime, I spotted Mark Ryan. My heart jumped into my throat, but I made my way over to him and said hello. And yes, I got his autograph. He's a really really great guy. XD
After wandering the room for a bit, we decided to head on out, but hooked up with a few friends of ours and spent the remainder of the day with them. Eventually, we all went out to dinner together. A great, but nerdy time was had by all.
And it's not over yet. We've still got two more days of geek heaven on earth. But truthfully, I wish it wouldn't end.
--Weasel, "Still exhausted, but it feels so good."
Got up this morning at a little after seven; I was up and dressed within the span of about five minutes. (Odd fact about yours truly: I never like getting up in the morning. I hate it. But when I'm at the convention, that changes rapidly.) Prime took a bit, yet again. He had to shower, get dressed, eat a bit of breakfast (Sandwiches. Nummy.) and all that other wonderful slag. So we were a bit late leaving the hotel. But it didn't matter; we got to our stop, got picked up by the 686 and were on our way.
It was a bit of a walk to the convention center and there was quite a crowd when we arrived. A pretty decent number seemed to be either picking up their pre-registration items or hitting the club store. Prime and I hit the panel room, where we took in the various and sundry panels.
First up was the Collector Club panel, which dealt with the club magazine. Fairly interesting stuff. Next up was Stan Bush and Vince Dicola, followed by the movie writers Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci. For the last panel, I had to ask a quick question about movie Bumblebee. As if I would ask about anyone else. (I'll explain it later.)
After those three panels were done, we waited in line for the opening of the dealer room. It was an hour long wait, but it was worth it.
The dealer room is literally the heart of the 'Con. Everybody goes there. If you're looking for anyone, just head to the dealer room and you will find them. Today was no exception. Prime and I ran into someone we hadn't seen in a few years.
But it got even more awesome.
As I was standing near the IDW table, waiting for Prime, I spotted Mark Ryan. My heart jumped into my throat, but I made my way over to him and said hello. And yes, I got his autograph. He's a really really great guy. XD
After wandering the room for a bit, we decided to head on out, but hooked up with a few friends of ours and spent the remainder of the day with them. Eventually, we all went out to dinner together. A great, but nerdy time was had by all.
And it's not over yet. We've still got two more days of geek heaven on earth. But truthfully, I wish it wouldn't end.
--Weasel, "Still exhausted, but it feels so good."
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