General After-Christmas Update.

So… I totally apologize (to myself) for not posting for five hundred years. People get stressed, tired, busy… and eventually they just kind of lose time inbetween all of that. You know how it goes. A number of things have happened since my last post. I’ll list them, and perhaps go into just a little bit of detail. You know. If I feel like it.

1. I got to whole wage thing worked out with my manager, and she said that my pay would go up. I haven’t seen the results yet, I’m hoping that it will appear on my next paycheck considering that I worked about 483279048230 hours last week.

2. I crashed my car into a guardrail on the freeway. I wasn’t hurt, but my poor little Honda did suffer some serious cosmetic damage. I’ve been driving a rental for the past three weeks, a silver Nissan Versa. It’s not a horrible car, not in the slightest, but it’s also not mine. I cannot wait until I get my beloved Civic back.

3. Christmas holidays were fucking crazy. I’m pretty sure that I suffered no less than four breakdowns while working, but thankfully it ended without having me snap some beezy in half. Which was totally possible considering how bitchy people tend to be while out on their Christmas shopping adventures. Very unfortunate.

4. I’ve realized something about Asian shoppers that will probably make me sound totally rascist when I say it, but this is my blog so I’m going to say it regardless. While this doesn’t apply to all Asian shoppers (and I mean Asian shoppers that are actually from Asia, not second generation Asian-Americans) it sure applies to a whole hell of a lot of them. They are totally rude and, well, not nice. Like at all. I don’t know why, but it seems like a lot of Asian shoppers are just way demanding and do not seem to have a lot of respect for the retail slaves who are trying to assist them. Of all of the ridiculous shoppers that I had during the holidays, 100% were over the age of 35, 90% were females and 80% were Asian. I had like… one Eastern European man and (of course) one American lady that just wasn’t very nice at all. I don’t know. Perhaps that was a mean thing to say, but hey. I’m just tellin’ it how I see it.

5. Dawson and I have planned on going to a club in San Francisco on January 1st along with my wonderful BFF Olipop and whomever else wants to go. Dawson’s been wanting to go to this particular club for a while now and (shockingly) I’m slowly getting more comfortable with going out with my boyfriend. Instead of being insanely jealous when people find him attractive, I’m slowly beginning to be proud. Yeah, he’s hot. And yeah, he’s mine. He’s my baby and he loves me and only me. What more could I ask for? Besides, I need to start saying “yes” more often.

And yes, I did see Yes Man. Who knows, maybe Jim Carrey can change my life.

Nothing amazingly profound to write at the moment. When I think of something, I’ll let you know.

I WILL get what I fucking deserve.

I feel sick to my stomach and I have a headache. It’s not the kind of headache where I feel like my head is going to explode or implode or crack down the middle or whatever else one can think of. It’s just a dull, constant pain which won’t seem to go away. Not that I would expect it to after the night that I’ve had.

I’ll be blunt and say simply that I make minimum wage. I make $8.00 per hour (which I was fine with up until today) and despite the fact that I think that us peoples at the store do way too much to only get paid $8.00, I was fine with it. That was until I found out that everyone at the store, including people who were hired after me and haven’t been working there as long, makes $8.25 per hour instead of $8.00 like myself. I make the least amount of money at the store despite the fact that I’m one of the people that have been there the longest.

I’ve been fucked over to the extreme, and the moment that I found this out I began tearing up and had to hide in the break room for a few minutes in order to pull myself together. How is that fair? When one of my co-workers was hired, apparently our assistant manager told her that everyone at the store except one person (me) made at least $8.25 per hour. I’m so angry, I’m so hurt and I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. It’s not the amount of money that pisses me off, it’s the fact that people that were hired AFTER ME are making more money than I am. And one of the girls that I was hired with AT THE EXACT SAME TIME was also given a $8.25 per hour paycheck. I’m the only person making this amount of money.

Sure, there’s a reason why we’re not supposed to discuss our paychecks. It’s because these bastards don’t want us to realize that there’s a big fucking discrepancy between what they’re paying their employees who are doing the exact same job. How fucking dare my assistant manager think that it’s okay to pay EVERYONE ELSE IN THE STORE more than me? HOW DARE HE? I’m calling my manager tomorrow and letting her know about how fucking unfair this is and that if I don’t get a raise I’m quitting. I don’t care if it’s the holiday season and they need people. I will quit right on the spot and never return if I don’t get the money that I deserve for the same fucking job that I’ve been doing for the past six months.

Never before have I felt so ripped off, so fucked over. I feel (although it’s not quite the right word) discriminated against and I feel like everyone else is being favored over me. It’s absolutely ridiculous and I cannot stand for it. I will not. Ever.

They better not think that they can screw over Ty and get away with it. I deserve the proper paycheck, even if it is just $0.25. I deserve it and I will not allow anyone to deny me my right to equal pay.

I’m so mad at the man that hired me. And to think I was actually grateful to him for giving me a job. Now I know that he just completely fucked me over and for what? To save on payroll?

Sorry. That’s not going to work with me.

Not now, not ever.

Louder = Better

I was listening to the radio on my way home from school today when the song “Icky Thump” by The White Stripes starting playing. While I don’t hate the song, I’m certainly not a fan of it, so I let it play quietly in the background and waited for it to pass.

I started thinking about how if a song that I had actually enjoyed been playing I would have turned the volume up and let the sound envelop me in a blanket of musical awesomeness, and from that thought I began wondering why it is that I (and many people I know, if not everyone) turn up the volume when a song that I enjoy starts playing. It’s not like making the song louder would make it any better, and yet we always insist on cranking the sound whenever that amazing song that just makes our ears orgasm comes on.

It doesn’t make much sense to me, hence why I’m still pondering on the issue, but since it causes no harm I suppose it doesn’t really matter that is such a habitual action.

While I was still pondering, “Icky Thump” ended and the song “Human” by The Killers commenced, at which point I immediately shut off the radio and listened to “Crooked Teeth” by Death Cab for Cutie instead. Because “Human” blows huge, disgusting chunks.

God damn, that song is horrible.

I hate you. Well, no, just kidding.

Now, it’s time to get back to actual writing. You know how I do.

I’m not one for first impressions. I don’t think that I give out to others are very good (or maybe I should say “accurate”?) ones, and it always seems like the ones that I create about others are always incorrect.

I am a very guarded person, and while I could go one for thirty paragraphs about why I am so guarded and why the solid, nearly insurmountable wall of distrust and instinctive dislike surrounds my fragile being… I won’t. Why I am the way I am, while important in understanding how to eradicate my more negative personality traits, aren’t important for the point of this post. Eventually, perhaps, I’ll spill out all of my thoughts and rationalizations for my bad qualities in a Freudian fashion that would make any psychoanalysist proud, but for now I prefer to focus on other things. However, I digress.

I’m guarded, and therefore I have this immediate way of feeling a distinctive dislike for pretty much anyone the first time that I meet him/her. There are very few people that I have ever met that I haven’t felt this way towards (one of them being my boyfriend, which is probably a good thing), but for the most part the negativity pops up with everyone whose name I’m suddenly required to know.

I never trust my own first impressions, because they’re the same for everyone and while not always being incorrect, most of the time I find that the person that I was so against two weeks ago really isn’t all that bad of a person despite the ickiness I felt in my chest upon making introductions. As I’ve gotten older (older? I’m only 19, really not much aging as been going on, but whatever) the time frame between meeting the person and creating a real image of their persona as opposed to the negative one that I automatically form has gotten shorter. Where at one time it lasted weeks, even months, now only a few days may pass before I throw away my silly suspicions and take the person for who (s)he is. I’m hoping that someday the negativity will no longer resurface and I’ll be able to immediately begin bonding with others on a positive level.

Yes, one day, I’m sure.

As for others not have accurate impressions of me? Well, I cannot say if that’s necessarily a good or a bad thing. People seem to either love me or hate upon meeting me, and about half of the time their opinions make a 180 at some point during our relationship, whatever kind of relationship that may be. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have a personality of extremes. I really don’t know. Maybe if I managed to figure out that one it would help me on my little quest to rid myself of my negative impressions.

Maybe. Doesn’t hurt to try, right?