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May 8th, 2009
10:53 pm
COALD
-Care
-Obedience
-Accountability
-Loyalty
-Disclosure
PETE
-Police Action
-Escheat
-Taxation (?)
-Eminent Domain
DUST
-Fuck if I know
Dammit.
I'm going to get these down. I have to.
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April 17th, 2009
06:31 pm - Huh
You know, I really didn't expect that I'd be getting the payroll position at work, a clear promotion from my current job. I may be intelligent, hardworking, great to get along with, cheap, good at math, skilled with computers, well liked by all the employees, and able to stare at a computer screen for hours on end with no ill effects, but I don't have any experience.
Apparently, and I did not know this, everyone else on the planet has payroll experience. And this is the only thing that matters, despite the fact that they'd be more expensive to hire and they'd have to be trained in our way of doing the job anyway.
Yeah, this didn't come as a shock. Mostly, I just wanted to see what excuse they'd give me when they told me I wasn't being considered.
But now, I really think my workplace is actively trying to get me to quit.
This also shouldn't be a shock, as Harborside Healthcare has a grand old history of trying to can everyone who's decent at their job.
I can deal with not being allowed to troll the internet on my laptop at work. Frankly, I'm surprised I've gotten away with it for this long. But they give me maybe an hour's worth of work to do a day, and now I can't internet, read a book, draw, or anything else but stare into space for at least four hours a day, eleven on the weekends.
And I'm sorry, but what's this bullshit about giving us more work so we can 'earn our pay'? We don't get paid very much to begin with, despite the fact we're everyone's gopher. If I were making decent money, I could understand telling us to earn it, but we get paid less than anyone in either the building or in our specific line of work. I know, I've checked. We do everything anyone asks, but we don't earn our paycheck? Apparently, working quickly and efficiently is something they can penalize us for. Imagine.
I suppose I shouldn't be too upset. In a week and a half, I'm starting my real estate classes, and after I'm licensed, I'm guaranteed a job with my coworker's son's office. So I shouldn't be here too much longer to begin with. I just hate being shit on by the people above me, literally and figuratively.
Also, I need to get back into the habit of LJing, and drama at work seemed like a good excuse. :-/
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April 6th, 2009
10:42 pm - I'M NOT DEAD
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
No, he hates me.
Joe Thunder says:
Does he?
Huh.
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
...I think?
I really don't know.
He once told me I had no soul.
Joe Thunder says:
Didn't he keep inviting you to those chats where he irritated everyone?
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
This was after.
Joe Thunder says:
Well, you don't, so that's not saying much.
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
True.
Joe Thunder says:
Like when I call you gay and then laugh.
It's not an insult if it's true.
By the way.
You're gay.
HAHAHA
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
*Single, manly tear*
Joe Thunder says:
That was a classic conversation.
I'm posting it to my MSN bio.
This part to.
...maybe without the typo.
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
Now I'll be exposed to EVERYONE.
Joe Thunder says:
Just like me at my graduation!
Kamen Rider Phoenix says:
Who thought your penis was concave!
Joe Thunder says:
WHO TOLD
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March 2nd, 2008
01:03 am
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January 7th, 2008
08:01 pm
Well, the cycle as begun anew.
I wish I could say going in eyes wide open was going to affect things one way or the other, but I think everyone knows it won't.
Prove me wrong, Joe. Prove me wrong!
In other news, I went to my very first murder mystery party Saturday night. It was fairly awesome. I played a French(ish) chef who was planning to kill the guy slowly through poison, but did not succeed because someone beat me to it. That someone was the lawyer, despite my insistence that it could only be the famous author (although, in retrospect, it should have been obvious, given the amount of information he had. I think I just liked calling the author a witch all night.). There was food, and punch, and mystery, and shouting, and fishnets, and it was all awesome!
And then there was Rock Band, which I'm either really bad or really good at. I haven't decided. On the one hand, I was getting fairly high scores for someone who'd never played the game before, but on the other hand, it was all on easy because I am a pussy.
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December 20th, 2007
01:44 am
As I was eating my Fudgsicle earlier, it occurred to me that I would have made a fantastic gay man.
I'm pretty (read: very) flamboyant, I know how to accessorize, I can decorate a room, bright colors make me happy, and when you put a Fudgsicle in my hand I go to town on that sucker.
Sorry, homosexual community. Your loss is the ladies' gain.
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December 18th, 2007
10:45 pm
Christmas music can suck my left nut.
Just saying.
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November 28th, 2007
11:48 am - Ugh
Today's going to suck.
It really is.
If I hadn't already agreed to dinner with my grandma before I remembered what today was, I'd just disappear for the day like I planned. Unclefucker.
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November 22nd, 2007
09:58 pm
Oh my god.
Yesterday at work, a woman in a wheelchair fell and smacked her head on the sidewalk right outside the front door. I was upstairs bringing up the mail, so I couldn't stop her. I in fact only got back downstairs just in time to see her topple. I did what I was supposed to (Paged the nurses to the front, called 911), but I was on the verge of tears the rest of the night.
I know it wasn't my fault. I wasn't dicking around in the building, I was upstairs doing my job. But I couldn't help but feel so guilty for letting her fall like that. Okay, 'letting' is a bit strong, as I ran as fast as I could to try and not let her fall. Everyone could tell how upset I was, as I kind of wear my heart on my sleeve. And contrary to what is apparently popular belief, having everybody and their mother (no, literally, someone's mother) tell me it wasn't my fault kind of makes me think everyone's overcompensating because it was my fault. And yeah, I know it wasn't, I know I couldn't have done anything to stop her (except wait until she wasn't in the lobby to bring the mail up, but she never goes for the door! Ever!), but I still felt like shit, and I'm still kind of depressed about it over a day later.
In four years of working at the 'home, no one's gotten hurt like that on my watch. Sure, people have gotten out the door once or twice (can't be helped, and they didn't get much further), but no one's gotten so hurt that the ambulance had to come take them away (I found out later she only needed a few stitches, but I was imagining the worst all night). And I feel kind of stupid for crying. It's not like anyone else did, but... fuck, it sucked. Actually, no, I don't mind crying, I mind crying in front of people.
So, since yesterday, I've felt like a screwup and a pussy. I know I shouldn't. Everyone's told me I shouldn't. But I do. And I hate it.
Thank god for my vacation next week.
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November 8th, 2007
09:13 pm - Oh yeah
I'm in love with this girl.
Yeah, yeah, oldest story in the book, but this is my LJ, so fuck off.
I really don't have much of a basis for comparison, given, but I'm pretty sure it is in fact love. Most people dream about the coitus with the objects of their desires (I'm told), but my dreams? Well, let's see. My last dream about her was that I was the one she came to for comfort and support. There was kissing, yes, but not really sexual kissing, just... me comforting her.
It felt nice.
Or, who knows, maybe I'm just fucked up like that.
I've been told by everyone I've confided in on the matter that I should just tell her how I feel, but I can't. It's not only my vehement not-wanting-or-needing-to-be-rejected-outright thing that I constantly blame it on. It's that... well, I just can't. It's not her boyfriend (although he doesn't help), it's not that she's the type of person to get all weird if a friend confesses his love for her (although she isn't), it isn't that we don't speak all that often (although that kind of makes the fact that I still dream about her a little frightening; is there such a thing as subconsciously obsessive?).
But there are concrete reasons, that I won't go into here because I might show her this LJ one day and I don't need her figuring me out like that. This, of course, assumes she doesn't already know, which she likely does. I am not anyone's definition of 'subtle', and I've surely hinted at it enough within that circle of friends that it'd be legitimately surprising if no one has figured it out and let her know.
I'm, honestly, a little tired of it. I do love her, as she is the coolest thing with a vagina since whoever was the first lesbian, but I really need to shit or get off the pot here. It irritates the hell out of me that I can't even move on having not seen or spoken to her in months, and I'm sure it irritates the people I talk about this to.
So, I'm here. I foresee a lot of these types of posts in the future, get the fuck used to it, readers that I don't actually have.
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09:01 pm
Yeah, in all seriousness, I'm pretty sure flu shots aren't supposed to actually give you the flu. I'm damn sick and tired of sneezing and sniffling by this point, and it's not even fucking winter yet.
I'm working on the writing again, this time in the form of an ongoing Power Rangers fanfiction. Whether or not you're a fan, I like the story I've come up with, and it's hopefully the beginning of something more. I'd love to get into random original short stories or plays or novels at some point, without losing interest after a week or so of the writer's block. Practice makes perfect, the sky's the limit, different strokes for different folks, i before e except after c, etc.
(I think) I mentioned a while back the one act play I was going to write. Yeah, I've gotten maybe a page in. I *did* write the monologue, however, which I really want to post up here at some point, not so much because people read this blog (because they don't), but so I can have it online, and show other people later without having to whip out the old laptop.
Although the laptop's usually out anyway, honestly. God, work would be so boring without it. The weekends would last forever if I didn't have a laptop and a plethora of Family Guy on DVD.
Joe's Link du Jour: http://www.thedailyshow.com
I'm so addicted to this site. It has (or, more likely, will eventually have) clips from every episode of The Daily Show. And thank god they're not just uploads of the episode, they're by segment. They have stories organized by correspondent (although the Colbert slice is pages upon pages of the Colbert Report lead-ins at the end of every TDS, so I haven't bothered yet), guest, and keyword, which is awesome if you're looking for the one segment from years ago about how orange juice turns people gay (which, actually, doesn't seem to be up there...).
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October 29th, 2007
10:51 pm - You Know,
I really do need to get back into the LJ habit. I've been trying to write again lately, but it's hard if I just sit down and dive right into whatever it is I want to write.
So.
I'm good, I suppose. Writing a bit, like I said. Forced myself to enter a stupid fan fiction contest just as an excuse to force myself to write something, in the theory that writing anything would serve as a diving board into writing *something*.
So far, this. And maybe half a page of script.
So, random thoughts, I guess:
I tried out for a play the other day. My friend texted me that they needed someone and he thought of me, which was flattering, as I usually don't think of other people thinking of me.
Yeah, I didn't get the part.
I know it's kind of arrogant or presumptuous or something, but I'm not used to getting parts in things I try out for, and it was a little jarring. Intellectually, I know it happens to everyone and I shouldn't take it personally, but I do. Have I only been getting parts because the people in charge of the plays I try out for like me? This lady didn't know me from Adam, and she said she wanted someone younger, but I'm not that old, so I'm pretty sure that was a load of feces.
I dunno. I should let it go, but I've always considered acting to be among my top five talents, and it hurts to not at least get *a* part in something I tried out for.
Moving on.
Going to see The Menagerie in Hyannis next month, with Bridget and likely some other people. Like the dork I am, I'm dressing up. I ordered a Spock uniform off of eBay, and need to hit the mall to see if I can track down some ears at the costume shop. Oh, and maybe some boots. Pair of black slacks should pass off as Starfleet issue pants, or close enough anyway, and I plan to make use of my cell phone's flipping function as a mock communicator.
Oh, and hey, my eBay account has mysteriously disappeared, which I found out after typing the above paragraph reminded me to go leave feedback for the shirt. I really don't want to make a new account and lose all of *my* feedback. Shit.
That's all for now, losers. Later.
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February 10th, 2007
11:04 am
Oh my god!
I have a Livejournal!
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January 14th, 2007
08:01 pm - I was wrong!
Apparently, those rumors of girls who prefer personality and wit to good looks weren't as far fetched as I thought.
Also apparently, all the people who've said that I need to leave the Cape weren't as wrong as I'd assumed.
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January 11th, 2007
10:27 pm
Okay, I'll be frank. It's been a while, and maybe I just don't remember it very well, or maybe I was doing it wrong.
But the feeling I got today when picking up over a hundred bucks worth of comics was way better than sex.
I love having a car again.
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03:00 pm
I used to think ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) customers_suck was awesome.
I just found bad_sex.
Sweet.
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January 8th, 2007
12:18 am
Man, I am fucking freezing.
Thank god for flannel.
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January 7th, 2007
11:41 pm
Oh, also, fuck TK.
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11:40 pm
God, I don't want to go to sleep.
Even updating the LJ is preferable.
*shudder*
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January 6th, 2007
08:42 pm
People need to stop pissing me off lately.
Jesus Christ, if you don't like me, just fucking tell me. Is it really so hard? I'd stop trying if you'd just let me know.
Oh, and when the door's locked? Don't tug on it. YOU DON'T OPEN A LOCKED DOOR BU TUGGING WITH ALL OF YOUR 70-YEAR-OLD MIGHT. Fuck.
Also, I'm tired of helping you. Yeah, you. I'm as nice as they come, but calling me on four consecutive nights at three in the morning when you know damn well what time I have to go to work is kind of pushing it.
Also, if you honestly want me to believe that you won an award for writing or something, make sure you use proper grammar. It's annoying as shit trying to keep my eyes open while I'm reading a forty line paragraph that doesn't have a comma, period, or apostrophe.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm a little touchier than usual because my awesome boss/friend is in the hospital's intensive care unit and I'm scared to shit she might die before I see her again, but that's no excuse for everyone else in the world to be a fucking cuntwaffle.
God, I just want to disappear. Even just for a while. Just to get away from every fucktard on the planet.
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