Passing the Torch and Dimming the Lights on the Way Out

Or to put it another way: All good things…

You've probably noticed that I haven't said much lately. The blog has been quiet for a good, long time now. There are reasons as to why and I'm about to get into them. So sit down and buckle up. It's gonna get bumpy here.

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a place where I vented, where I could bitch and moan and whine and complain about the random acts of idiocy I encountered on a daily basis at my place of employment, which was Wal-Mart. That's the reason I chose the name, really. I dealt with so many idiots and what rhymes with idiot? Not a lot, except maybe Wal-Mart and the various idiots who happen to be managers at Wal-Mart.

Yeah, about that. Those were the reasons I started blogging and those reasons are gone. Back in August of 2014, Wal-Mart terminated me. I was the first of five (or was it six…?) cashiers who were fired. It was the usual housecleaning crap, when you get right down to it. It was the usual crap from the usual crappy people. What should I have expected, really? Wal-Mart does this shit constantly. They don't like having professional cashiers or professional anything else, for that matter. Because that costs the Waltons money.

Yes, I know: I should have made a post that very day. I didn't because I was in crisis mode. I had no job and there was no way in hell that Prime and I could live on one paycheck, so I had to find something, anything. A week later, I was a cashier again, hired by a mall Target. I thought all my problems were over.

They weren't. I was actually a seasonal hire and I was out the door on the first of January, 2015. I was not fucking happy.

Again, I should have said something, should have tapped out a quickie post here on my blog but again, I was in crisis mode. I had to get something and something fast. It took three weeks, but I got hired at a mall Subway. Yes, it was in the same mall as the fucking Target. Yes, it was an absolute shit job. Holy fucking shit, was it a shit job: I was making fifty cents over the minimum wage, my hours were shit and I was one of the few people in that place that actually did any fucking work. Did I get any real appreciation? Only by our district manager and that was few and far between. Most of the time, I was told to work faster and harder.

I was about to hit midlife. There is no way in hell I am going to speed up. As you age, you slow the fuck down. But I fucking digress over here.

Yes, that was where I was working during BotCon 2015. I don't know how, but I was able to swing getting that time off and damn, was I ever glad, even if it was unpaid. I kept that job until September of that year. This time, I left of my own accord; the Fox Valley area of Wisconsin was finally getting a Costco. Ground was broken in June of that year. I kept a watch on the Costco website, waiting for any jobs to be posted for that upcoming warehouse. In July, the applications for employment for the Fox Valley Costco went live and I applied.

A week later, they called. I scheduled an interview. I went to the temporary office and gave my first interview, which was followed by a second. Then, I was called back to the office area where I gave my third and final interview. The assistant manager--his name was Bobby--hired me on the spot. I went from making shit ass wages at a shit ass job to being paid $11.50 an hour.

I've been there for two years now. I have every intention of staying there, although I wasn't certain I would when the warehouse first opened. I was in the Food Court, which was damn hard. The turnover rate in there was insane. There were some other hiccups as well--decently-sized ones, honestly--but now I'm in a place and in a position that I actually enjoy. I don't dread going to work every day. Hell, most of the time, I'm smiling as I walk in the doors! I make a damn good wage, management can't shit me out the door when they damn well feel like it, the breakroom is filled with people talking about good things or making jokes or other things like that. We even have a TV in there and sometimes, I'm able to catch a movie, some Star Trek, part of a Brewers game, or whatever before I clock in for the day. When people say that the culture at Costco is different, they are not kidding.

So yeah, like I said, the main reason I started this blog is gone. If I have to deal with any real stupidity, it's from scheduling eff-ups and those aren't so awful. Management can usually straighten them out and me, I laugh 'em off. Like I've said, different culture. My stress level--when it comes to my employment--has dropped to near nothing. I don't have migraines anymore. GERD seems to be a thing of the past. Most surprisingly, I can tolerate children now; they don't piss me off like they did at Wal-Mart. Costco doesn't have a dedicated toy section or impulse buys at the front lanes; there aren't as many kids throwing tantrums or having meltdowns because they can't get a toy, or M&Ms or whatever. Now, I'm far more inclined to crack a joke with them while I'm drawing a smiley face on their mother's receipt. And if one is crying? I try to make them smile.

Total sea change. Wal-Mart pitching me out on my ass was the best thing they've ever done for me. For that, I say: 

Go fuck yourself, Wal-Mart.

No, I am not bitter. Far from it. They did me a giant favor, when you get right down to it. But I have heard how shitty things are getting--even more than when I was employed there--at my store and throughout the damned company. The home delivery shit that they were trying earlier? Yes, they were forcing associates who had clocked out to take those packages. As for compensation, management wouldn't say. More and more associates are being forced into the "Customer First" scheduling, which means they'll only get around 20 hours a week, if they are lucky. The attendance policy is utter garbage. Then there's the new, absolutely creepy idea of having Wal-Mart make deliveries to your home and PUT EVERYTHING AWAY. Yeah, that is totally not asking for someone to get robbed or assaulted. If you're a cashier and you want to change your job code, like you're coded to work the tobacco bullpen or you drop from full time to part time, you have to go through a shit-ton of CBLs, called "Pathways", that teach you things you already know. There's 18 or so hours of this crap and you have 90 days to get it all done or you will be written up or terminated.

My old store no longer has the original manager; he's now stinking up the New London Wal-Mart. According to him, this was part of his retirement but no one believes him. Why? Well, it took three days and the fucking District Manager, along with a shitload of other higher ups, to get his ass out the door. Something tells me there's more to the goddamn story but ten to one, I'll never hear it. (Not that I fucking care and I think the fact that we have an Aldi in town now that is kicking ass and taking names had something to do with it but still…!)

**EDIT** So finally, I did find out why my former manager ended up at New London. I ran into a former coworker and he let me in on everything. It seems that he and the AP associate at my old store had been terminating associates without properly vetting it through the home office in Bentonville. When Bentonville caught on, they were not happy. That was when the slag hit the fan and the manager was given two choices: take early retirement and stink up the New London store or try and fight this and get fired.

Needless to say, he took option number one. Seems the AP associate was given a similar pair of choices. He's now at the Darboy store. I have no idea if he's still Asset Protection or not. Ten to one, he isn't. But those two are no longer at my old store and I will never have to see either one of those fuckwits ever again. But I fucking digress here.

I'm so glad that I am out of that fetid shithole. Fuck them and fuck the Waltons.

Now, my employment might have changed for the better but other things took a very quick turn south. It all started because of a friend of mine. His name was Puffy and we met through Dairycon and BotCon. He was a friend of Shawn and Stogie, was also a Wal-Mart employee and an all around nice guy.

One day, he wasn't feeling the greatest, so he went to see his doctor. The diagnosis he got? Stage four pancreatic cancer. The doctor looked him dead in the face and told him to get his estate in order, he would not survive this. This was in June of 2015.

He died in September of 2015, about three months after the diagnosis. Prime and I have some of his toys; Prime has some of his Rodimus figures and I have a few Bumblebees.

For Prime, this was a wakeup call of massive proportions. We now have a family-practice doctor and we're doing yearly visits. On my first visit in January of last year, I had a mammogram.

There were spots in the left breast that needed to be examined. Calcifications were found, which meant a stereotactic biopsy. The results? It wasn't cancer yet but if the cells divided, it would be. So on March 1st, 2016, a small part of my left breast was removed. The surgery went well and I had a micro-vacation from work. I've also got a small scar, in case you were wondering.

My specialist and I are doing active surveillance on this. I'm on tamoxifen, to block the estrogen in my breasts and I've already had two MRIs and two ultrasounds. There's a small spot in the right breast that bears watching but it shows no signs of growth as of right now, so I'm okay.

Yes, I know: I should have said something, made a quickie post. Trust me when I say, I was not in my right mind to do anything of that sort. Hell, I damn near went offline for a month and a half before the surgery. I just couldn't deal. With hardly anything. I barely made any posts on my favorite Pokemon forums, could barely concentrate on anything. I mostly kept listening to podcasts--the sound of human voices would keep me calm--and watched YouTube videos or clicked on GPX+. I just shut down mentally. Being told that a body part wants you dead does that to you. Again I digress.

So here I am now, with the original purpose to this blog gone and my life taking more turns than a rollercoaster. Yes, things get stupid but it's a very different stupid. Yes, we're being led by a fucking Ferengi who doesn't know his fucking lobes from a hole in the goddamn ground and will probably get us nuked in a fucking war. Yes, I still have to deal with idiots but they are different idiots. Yes, work can suck some days--like the day I found out I didn't get the full time position I wanted--but it's nothing like Wal-Mart. Sure, I could turn this into "Weasel Bitches about Her Stupid Defective Boobs: Film at 11" but that would get boring fast. So I had to make a decision.

I'm handing this blog over to Prime. He's going to do something with it. As to what, neither one of us know. But he'll be taking over. I won't be contributing anymore. If I do, it will be very rare and very brief. So consider this my final post.

No, this wasn't the easiest decision to make. I loved this blog. I loved bitching and complaining about the stupid shit that happened to me. I loved talking about the geeky things and complaining about politics and everything else. I loved making posts about BotCon and Dairycon and all that. I had a voice and it was fun trying it out. It was time well wasted, if you will.

Like I said, this was a hard decision. But I feel that it's the right one. The original purpose for this blog has long since disappeared. That garbage pile job is history, fading into the background of my subconscious like a nightmare. The few times I've walked into that store, I feel like a gaijin. I don't recognize most of the people who work there, at least one has gone back to the Oshkosh store and several have switched to overnights because it's a lot less stressful. One is seeking a transfer to another store, closer to her home. Out of the dozens of cashiers I knew, only two or three still remain. I can recognize one or two of the CSMs and one of them has been busted back down to cashier through no fault of her own, but she richly deserved it. (She's the one who asked a cashier "What do you want me to do about it?" when a Lawn and Garden Associate nearly let a customer have an entire cart of items that had been paid for and left by the original owner and the same CSM who forced me to take $18 worth of coupons for free luncheon meat on cheese. Like I said, it's not right, it's not fair but this was completely justified and I am damn glad to hear it happened.)

It also doesn't help that Blogger isn't easy on my eyes. I get eyestrain just trying to read the font on this blog, bad enough to give me a headache. My new glasses help but it's still a bit rough. The eyes are aging, just like the rest of me. I'm not getting a slagging bit younger, you know.

For those of you who read my posts, thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed them. It was fun knowing that I had an audience. Hell, this entire experience--with some minor exceptions--was a blast. I'm glad I got to share it with you. I can only wish you well in whatever endeavor you may attempt. Maybe if we're lucky, our paths will cross again. But until then, this has been yours truly,

--the Weasel, signing off.

More than Toys

I've just returned from another BotCon. It was a blast, to put it mildly and I'm still smiling--albeit a smidge sadly--remembering all that I've done. However, the one thing I didn't do was buy a lot of toys, which seems a little strange. After all, this is a Transformers convention; shouldn't toy-buying be at the top of the "to do" list?

In my case, it's not about the toys.

In the years I've gone to the convention, it's become less about the toys I may buy and more about the people I see. I've made friends at BotCon, life-long friends who have stuck with me through thick and thin. Sure, I buy some toys while I'm there--the moment I see a Bumblebee I'm reaching for my wallet--but I'm there because of my friends. That, to me, is the heart and soul of the convention.

I'll post a proper report in the next few days. We had wi-fi trouble at our hotel which is why I couldn't blog. But rest assured, I will post my report as soon as I can. As for now, I'm counting down the days until the next BotCon.

To my Transfan friends: It's been a blast. I can't wait to see you next year.

--Weasel

Josh Duggar's Quiverfull of Hypocrisy

Unless you've been living under a rock, you've probably heard about Josh Duggar, the oldest of the Duggar's brood of nineteen kids plus. He's the guy that had a job as an executive director with the Family Research Council, had helped lobby for 12 week abortion bans and was seen as a poster boy for "family values".

He's also a serial molester.

Now, the Duggar family and its allies are rather quickly trying to do spin control; they've been quick to say that what dear sweet Josh has done was just a mistake and that things are okay now. He sinned but let's just forgive and forget and put all that nasty stuff behind us. Because, you know, we wouldn't want to ruin the poor boy's life, now would we?

I have so many problems with this.

First off, his family has been known to lobby against gays and transgendered people; the family matriarch recorded a robocall that claimed if transgendered people were allowed to use a public restroom, it would put children in danger.

Yet she harbored a molester in her own home. She even forgave him. So much for "thinking of the children".

The family and its allies have claimed that this was just a sin. Jesus forgave Josh, so why can't we. There's only one massive problem with that: if this is just a sin, then it's no worse than taking a penny off the counter of a local restaurant. No harm, no foul, Jesus will forgive.

But that makes every sin equal. Stealing a penny is like rape, which is like murder and all can be washed clean. And yes, I have a massive problem with that. It smacks of this little Onion article which is supposed to be satire. I won't quote it, as it really deserves reading but I think it covers everything pretty well. But then there's the whole forgiveness thing. Why can't we just forgive and forget?

Because in this case, forgiveness is simply silencing the victims. And that needs to stop right now

--Weasel, back and bitterer than ever

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: IT'S THE MOST WONDERF-HELL TIME OF THE YEAR

Holy geez. Last time I brought out a CI was right around this time of year, but in 2011. But it's not primarily my blog, so I'm not the bloody slacker around here.

WingTackLE (not to be confused with WingTackER, the W name I used LAST TIME ON RHYMES WITH IDIOT) is still slacking off, clearly. Not so understandable this time around, even though she's still doing the same damn things I naffed off about last time; scrawling less-than-furiously in notebooks, keeping me awake as she screws around on the Pokémon GTS looking for trades--the current X and Y games, naturally, and commiserating with anyone who'll listed about the latest news coming out of the Brewers organization (Corey Hart has interest from three teams besides the Crew but nothing will come of it until he's given a clean bill of health after sitting out the entire 2012 season). Again. The seeming usual.

Black Friday is UPCOMING, and WingTackle is not put out about the shifts she's working this year beyond having to work Thanksgiving Day at all. It means, unfortunately, another twinday of narcissitic shitheads giving her grief because they're not being served immediately--fuck those customers ahead of them, right?--and the fake-ass simpering dicks pretending commiseration that anyone at all has to work on such a family-oriented time of the year while simultaneously passing the plastic to her and shushing the three knee-high irritations who are all clamoring (and oh, YES, sometimes CURSING) for three different toys.

I see no reason to go out, either day, beyond giving her an escape during lunch and leaving a generous tip for whoever might serve us at whichever establishment we frequent. Mental health via Applebee's or somesuch. Yeah, it works.

She's quite better about the whole shooting thing, as you might imagine. The idiotic jokes from oh-so-'clever' people have trickled away to nearly nothing. Few jump at loud noises anymore. The shooter is a complete fruitbat. You can read up on this nutbar if you like, but you won't do it here, at least not by my hand.

Been keeping busy myself, when time allows. Usual crap, mostly. Been running, for a good year, an alliance on one of the mobile card games, MARVEL: WAR OF HEROES; our alliance's very simple blogsite is here, if you give a flying damn and/or play. Small community of players who've grown to be friends, I think.

+++PRIME OUT+++GODDAMN CAP WALLS+++

Loud as a Whisper

I know I haven't updated. There's been a very good reason. The past month has not been kind.

Those random shootings that have been popping up on television and dominating the news in the US hit far too close to home for me. In August, there was a shooting at my store. One of the cashiers brought a pair of semi-automatic pistols, along with 22 rounds of ammunition and shot a "rival" cashier. Her reasoning? The rival had been getting easier jobs and she shot her in a fit of jealousy.

I was there the day it happened. Although I saw nothing, I heard everything. It was not a good day.

I've been coping as well as can be expected. I'm not as badly traumatized as some of the others. On that day, I refused to go home; I stayed until the end of my shift. It wasn't easy but I managed somehow. I will admit to grabbing a wine cooler when I got off the clock for the day. Experts tell you not to, as they advise against using a substance that is considered depressive but on that day, I needed something to calm me down. I will also admit to sleeping in until well past noon the next day, as I wasn't scheduled to go in. I will also admit to jumping at loud noises for a couple of weeks afterward and the sound of gunfire will make me flinch. I have no idea how long I will continue that behavior.

I am reminded of a strip from あずまんが大王 (Azumanga Daioh): when Chyo-chan mentions that she wants to study in America, her friend Miss Osaka says that if she does, she'll be shot. The first time I read that strip I shook my head and laughed. It really wasn't so bad here in the States, I thought. We didn't have that big a gun problem.

I'm not laughing anymore.

--Weasel

An Update

Yeah, I'm going to post more, as I'm doing this in Opera now. IE seriously sucks and though Opera is glitchy, it's a hair bit more stable. (You don't want to know how slow and unreliable Internet Explorerer can be.) I'll try to have my BotCon report up by the end of the week; wish me luck.

--Weasel

In Blackest Night

So I've gotten my schedule for Thanksgiving and Black Friday--I'm working both days. Thanksgiving is a 7:45 to 12:30 night shift while Black Friday is a normal 10 to 7.

Lovely. I am going to be utterly exhausted.

I don't mind working Black Friday but working Thanksgiving is going to be a bitch. I hate being around people on that day; I don't have many good memories of the holiday in general. Most of my early memories involve running to my room and sobbing because I was being screamed at by my mother. This happened not once, but every year--Mom would get so stressed out by doing the cooking that she'd lose it. As for the dinner, I never enjoyed the meal at all and didn't see the point of eating all that stuff to show thankfulness. By late afternoon, I was bored out of my mind due to the nonstop football. The only really good memories I have of Thanksgiving are watching the Macy's Day Parade and when I was allowed to wander around Kmart when we took my great-grandmother home. This was back when things actually closed down on Thanksgiving, so the parking lot was empty and I felt like the only person left in the world.

The older I got, the less I liked the holiday. Now it's to the point where I can't stand it and would rather be left alone on that particular Thursday. I could deal with working Black Friday, especially those hours but Thursday will be tough. I usually end up in a bad mood on that day to begin with and being around greedy customers won't help.

Primus, give me the strength to get me through the next few days. I am going to need it.

--Weasel, "Most wonderful time of the year, my ass."

Go

Read this. That's all I'll say about it.

Season's End

Current song stuck in my head: It Is Such a Good Night by The Charlie Steinmann Orchestra & Singers

This afternoon, Prime and I were able to attend the last home game of the Timber Rattlers, in hopes that they could gain a 2-0 advantage over the visiting Fort Wayne TinCaps. This was no ordinary game; not only was it the closing game of the home season for the Rattlers, it was also one of the Midwest League Championship series. In other words, the season is swiftly coming to a close.

Yes, it's depressing and the weather seemed to match my mood a bit--it was overcast with the occasional sprinkle or two. But hey, we were at a baseball game so that didn't really matter.

Although things looked pretty good for a while, the TinCaps turned and trounced us with a final score of 5-1. No matter what any of the Rattlers players hit, it was either a pop-up or right at a TinCaps fielder. The wind, along with other factors seemed to be working against them today.

The series is tied 1-1. It'll be finished out in Fort Wayne, which is a lovely area. I should know: I've been there a few times for BotCon. If I weren't working this weekend, I'd probably be insane enough to ask Prime if we could go on a little roadtrip, but that won't happen. (Me, a weekend off? Surely you jest.)

This is one of the first real signs of fall: Minor League baseball closes down for the year. That means that the Major Leagues are focussing on penant runs and the playoffs are weeks away. In other words, summer is over and that's a bit depressing.

No matter how the series in Fort Wayne goes, I'll be proud of the Rattlers. It was a winning season and Prime and I were able to catch some great games in the latter part of the season. Come next year, I hope to grab a seat at Time Warner Cable Field at Fox Cities Stadium and see even more games. It'll be a long wait, but well worth it.

--Weasel, stocking up on peanuts and Cracker Jack

Angel in Disguise

Current song stuck in my head: If God Will Send His Angels - U2.

Yesterday wasn't a great day. Or at least, it didn't start that way. Prime wasn't in a great mood and snapped at me which only put me in a bad mood and made me want to cry.

Normally, I don't really want to go to work, but yesterday I was glad to see the building. I felt even better when I saw what was in the parking lot.

It was a Camaro. A 2010 Camaro. In yellow. And sporting racing stripes, no less. I already knew that I had to get a closer look at it when I got the chance. So when Prime dropped me off, I took a few steps to the building, then raced to the car in the parking lot. As I slipped my knapsack on my other shoulder, my breath caught in my throat.

There was a sigil beneath the word "CAMARO" on the car. Even at the distance I was standing, I knew exactly what it was.

It was an Autobot sigil. The Camaro that was in my store's parking lot was a Bumblebee edition. Now I had to get a better look at him.

He was, in a word, beautiful: bright yellow paint contrasting with the deep ebony stripes that ran across his hood and back, an Autobot sigil embroidered in his upholstery, the Chevy logo gleaming on his steering wheel and front grille. A thing of beauty, he was. It took all my strength not to bend close and kiss the top of his driver's side door. He was that gorgeous.

That urge to cry, the feeling of stupidity and awkwardness that I had felt not five minutes before was gone. I didn't feel like such an idiot and I didn't feel quite so alone now. Bumblebee was nearby; I was all right. Everything would be fine. After I said a soft good-bye and thank you, I walked into the store, a huge grin on my face. Who cared if Prime wanted to play the sourpuss? It didn't matter to me anymore.

Later on, Prime did give me a call on my cell and apologized. But it was rather moot at that point. I was past caring about the debacle that had been the morning. My mood had been lifted by an angel.

It's been said that angels appear to us in forms that we can comprehend. Most think of angels and see humanoids with white, fluffy wings. My angel is different: he has wings, but they double as car doors. Sometimes he can speak, other times he needs a radio to communicate. But he's always a robot.

He's Bumblebee. And he's my guardian angel. What happened yesterday proves it yet again.

--Weasel, "If Primus will send his hearlds/Sure could use them here right now..."

Sunday Morning Surprise

Or:
Rescuing the Rescuer

Late Saturday night I spotted it, a level 12 Japanese Golett with a nickname. How did I know the little guy had a nickname? The characters were radically different than that of a normal, un-named Golett's species name. A level 12, nicknamed, no hold item but the Trainer wanted a Landorus in exchange for this Golett.

Under normal circumstances, I might have let that go. But two things were picking at me: the fact that it was nicknamed and the fact that it was at level 12.

Now, I know what you're thinking--what the heck does level have to do with anything? The lowest level you can find one of these little guys is 1, if they've been bred. But you can also spot them at level 10, if they happen to come from the Dream World. Because of this, I decided to take the risk; I'd try and make the trade and perhaps I'd get another Dream Worlder.

Since I had no Landorus of my own, I offered up a Kyurem, hoping that someone would take some pity on me and surrender a Landorus that I could use. A couple of hours passed. Nothing. I couldn't wait all night so I went to bed, hoping that I'd get my answer in the morning.

Early Sunday morning, I awoke and after rolling over several times, I managed to doze off again. I'll refer to that as mistake number one.

Don't ask me why but my mind decided to play tricks on me. I ended up trapped in a horrible nightmare; one that involved myself along with a group of others, trapped in a room and trying to disarm a bomb. We weren't having any luck with it, either.

I knew I was dreaming. I knew that what I was experiencing wasn't real and several times, I woke myself up in order to stare at the ceiling and dismiss that awful dream. But each and every time I went back to sleep, I was back among that group of people, a warning claxon screaming in my ears and a timer slowly ticking down to zero as I frantically tried snipping wires to a large and armed bomb, knowing that the effort was fruitless. No matter how many times I brought myself out of that dream, my mind simply restarted the whole process. Again, I awoke and again, I stared at the ceiling, shaking.

"CHECK YOUR TRADE!"

That voice in the back of my mind started shouting loudly. I shook my head, refusing to doze off again. I grabbed my DS, turned it on and hit the GTS. Not a moment later, I saw a Poke Ball drop from the sky.

I had finally gotten the Landorus. Now I just needed to find the Golett.

The Golett was still there. I traded immediately and when it landed in my party, I took a look at it.

'Twas a Dream Worlder all right, but the Trainer decided to reteach the little guy Astonish and let him forget his Elemental Punch. No big deal; I'll grab some shards on Black 2 and give him ThunderPunch when I trade him over, I think. No harm, no foul. But it was his nickname that caused me to scratch my head: どぐう. "Wonder what that means," I managed to mumble as I dozed off again, my game saved and my DS powered off.

Thanks to Prime, I found out that his name is Dogū. According to Wikipedia, it's a term for a humanoid figurine made of clay. Given that Golett is a golem made of clay, it fits the little guy perfectly. But in all honestly, I can't help but think it means "savior".

Puzzling over the meaning of that hirgana so early in the morning was enough to break the nightmare's hold over me; when I went back to sleep, I was greeted with a peaceful darkness. No more howling alarms, no shouting group of terrified people, no bomb, no locked down room, nothing. Just peace. Checking that trade, getting that Golett and finding myself fascinated over his name was enough to end the dream. In other words, I owe a few hours of good sleep to a small grouping of pixels.

You wouldn't believe how grateful I am for that, as silly as it seems.

Some Days I Wonder...

Within two weeks of each other, we have two separate shooting rampages; the second of which was in my home state. It's hard to comprehend such senseless acts.

Can someone explain to me just what is wrong with everything? Why would anyone feel the need to shoot another person? How did the world get this screwed up? I just don't get it.

Again, I can't complain about my life. Everything that's been bothering me has been minor irritations at worst. I am damned lucky.

Which is more than I can say for some others out there. And that makes me want to curl under my blankets and cry. But if I start crying, I won't stop anytime soon.

This Too Shall Pass

It's been a tiring week and a bit stressful, but I'm not going to complain about it. I have no right to complain about much of anything. It could be worse, a lot worse.

I didn't have to bury any of my family. I didn't have to lay before Prime and act as a living sheild. I didn't have to keep a hand at a friend's throat to control the bleeding from a gunshot wound while I frantically dialed 911 on my cell phone. I don't have to mourn the passing of a child or a husband. I am damned lucky and I know this.

Yes, work has been a pain in the backside, but it always is. That's not a surprise. But who really cares about that? I'm healthy, Prime is fine and my friends are safe. Life is good. The only things that are bothering me are petty annoyances that will be forgotten by tomorrow.

Trust me, it could be a lot worse.

YES!!

After several more refreshes, the items in question finally showed up on HTS. When everything popped up, I called Prime to let him know what was going on and filled my cart.I placed my order for the SDCC exclusives at 11:10 CDT. There were no hang ups, no time outs, nothing. It was just smooth and easy.

Now if only Matty Collector could be this simple. Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen.

--Weasel, dreading the credit card bill but still happy.

Monitor Duty

Yes, I'm still here. No, the exclusives aren't up yet. And yes, it's still boring.

--Weasel, "How long is this going to take?"

CTRL+ALT+Headslam

So as many of you know, San Diego Comic-Con happened last weekend. And as you may well be aware, with Comic Con comes exclusives. And as many of you might know, a good number of companies will place said exclusives on their websites so that you may purchase them if you didn't attend the show.

This is why I've spent the last three and a quarter hours in front of Alexa-1, refreshing the Hasbro Toy Shop page. Believe me when I say, this is easily the most boring thing I have ever done. All I have done since 8:30 this morning is refresh page, grumble, refresh page again, grumble, refresh page once more and groan.

Not fun. Not fun at all. But then again, Prime wants that Bruticus and who am I to disappoint him?

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: Wrong Bruticus, Nimrodimus. It's this one. And you're forgetting Rust in Peace Cliffjumper. And the Shockwave HISS tank. Incompleting goobercon.

So if you hear a high pitched yelp of "YES!" you'll know we finally placed our order. Until then, I'll just keep refreshing HTS. Wish me luck.

--Weasel, "I should count my blessings. It could be worse. It could be Matty Collector."

Relief

Current song stuck in my head: 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins.

Tonight the fireflies were out, hovering around the front yard. When Prime and I got home, I slipped out of the car and walked into the grass, watching them. I spotted one, sitting on a blade of grass and tried to slip the tip of my finger under it, but it tumbled down to a lower blade. Undaunted, I tried again and managed to gently coax it onto the tip of my index finger. So I carefully held it in front of me, staring in amazement at the steady glow coming from its tail, watching it as it repeatedly stretched its wings and giggling when it finally took to the air. Summer has arrived in Wisconsin.

The heat has finally broken around here; the highs reached the 80s, which is far better than what we had earlier in the week. We were hitting the upper 90s to 100 temperature wise and that wasn't counting the humidity. It was stifling, to put it bluntly and most everyone was cranky and irritable thanks to the heat. I myself was dealing with a case of heat exhaustion: I felt dizzy, nauseous and more than a little weak on both Thursday and Friday, which made work difficult. It's pretty hard to stand up straight at a register when your legs are shaking. It was even more difficult to try and patrol the GM self checkouts on the Fourth of July, as it was extremely busy and I was just starting to feel the effects of the heat.

But try telling something like that to the CSMs. Or to one particular CSM.

According to Mary, I wasn't doing enough. I wasn't walking around enough. I wasn't working hard enough. She tells me this after I've helped several customers, helped a customer find his lost cell phone and sold several bags of ice. But since Mary didn't see it, I just didn't do any work.

Wow. Nice to see just how much she values me....

So no, it wasn't a great week. I was stuck in a bad mood for a few days, or at least until Friday. Then I got some interesting news. It came from one of the people greeters who started chatting with me while I was minding the self checks on Friday, covering for a lunch. I told him about how bad Mary had been acting and he agreed. It seems that Mary hasn't been making a lot of friends lately. Or to put it bluntly, she was making a nuisance of herself.

It seems she ordered--not asked but outright ordered--one of the people greeters to clean the front end. So of course, he had to do as he was told and was cleaning in earnest when a manager walked by. The manager, perplexed, asked him what he was doing and why, so the poor guy explained the situation.

The manager wasn't happy and said that what the people greeter was doing was actually the job of maintenance and that he would have a nice, long chat with Mary.

So yes, Mary got in a lot of trouble. She was dragged to the office in back and from what I hear she was given a long talk.

I spotted Mary a grand total of once that day; she wasn't wearing her nametag and certainly didn't have the schedule/flowchart. She didn't look terribly happy, either. Make of that as you will. But the less of her, the better so Friday was a very calm, quiet and rather pleasant day, despite all the heat.

Today was a bit busier but I was on the Grocery self checkouts for the better part of the day and that made things bearable. What can I say, I enjoy being around "my" machines. When they run well and I'm feeling good we make a pretty good team. And since it was cooler today, I actually had an appetite and my energy level was back to its normal, perky level.

I'm off tomorrow so I can relax. A day off to watch the Brewers and hatch a few more Elekid eggs. (Another day, another shiny hunt.) It'll be great to unwind and de-stress after such a long week. No time to start like the present.

--Weasel, "It can only get better."

Upgrade Time

So it finally happened: Prime got me a 3DS.

It was something that needed to happen; one of my silver DS fats has shoulder button issues, while the other DS fat has a broken hinge. They both work, but it's pretty obvious that they're both about ready to go. So now I'm the proud owner of an Aqua Blue 3DS.

It's a beauty. I've already tooled about with it and I really like it; I've also got quite a few titles saved to my wishlist. Now if only I can hold out until October 7 and get my hands on Black 2, life will officially not suck.

--Weasel, still wondering if she should take the 7th off to play her game, or go into work because she's the only one who knows anything about Pokemon...

Dog Days

Current song stuck in my head: Ue O Muite Aruko (Sukiyaki) by Kyu Sakamoto

It isn't truly summer yet, but it feels like it around here. Prime can't stand it--he's not too fond of heat--but I like it okay.

It's not the heat that's bothering me. It's my job, but what else is new?

Because of the heat everyone is cranky, so I've dealt with cranky customers, cranky co-workers and cranky members of management. Everyone is snapping at everyone else and it's frankly driving me crazy. Fighting the last of this blasted summer cold hasn't helped, either; I'm fine except for the dry cough which won't go away. And it always pops up at the absolute worst moments.

Making matters worse? I have to wait until next year's BotCon for any real relief from this. That's the one thing that bugs me when it's held early: I'm stuck in the doldrums, so to speak. I've already been and gone. It'll be at least a year until I see everyone again and frankly, that's pretty depressing.

For once, I'm looking forward to fall. I'll be a bit closer to next year's convention and maybe Black 2 will keep me occupied.

--Weasel "It'll free up some space in my PC at least. 108 shiny Golett/Golurk rescues can be a bit taxing on space...!"

Down With the Sickness...Again

Haven't been feeling too great for the past couple of weeks, which is why I haven't updated. Seems there's a chest cold going around; I caught it, Prime caught it and we've both been miserable for the past fortnight. So yeah, not fun.

I'm hoping to post something in the next few days. Trust me, hacking up a lung ain't fun.

--Weasel, surviving due in no small part to Delsym....gag.