Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Music that will save us all. Fat girls dress better than me.
I just found a mix cd in the FAB lab...I think I'm going to take it home for a perusal, seeing as my soul needs some saving. Oh wait, don't you need actual time to be morally depraved? I'd forgotten.
Surprising joys to me lately, have been several things, all focussed in and around the store. John has been phoning me at work lately, when he knows things are dead. Which, during the week, is often. And Sundays until about seven.
Yesterday was fairly miserable (and later I found, unneccessarily so), because I had a) problems with the Macs at school (it's all fine to have to learn how to use them because you want to, but when there's considerable stress involved in mastering the computer and a design program in a matter of a day or less, it makes me want to rip my hair out. Couple that with chronic server problems, and I was not in good shape yesterday when it came time to print out an assignment after surpassing all that crap somehow, and then being halted for not "setting up a printing account", which is to say, giving the prof two dollars as a printing fee.)
b)YES, this blog may turn into a venting page for a while. Deal with it.
c) I fucking hate shopping. HATE. I've adopted a new policy of just telling the salespeople to go fuck themselves (much more politely than that, most of the time), because I hate seeing that look in their faces when they come up to you that starts out as "Oh, I'm dying to be helpful" that fades into, "wow, you are not going to look good in anything in our store. Can I suggest an accessory?"
Funnily enough, I know I'm chubby, but I'm not hideously overweight either. No no...hideously overweight people can find clothes no problem now! I'm almost tempted to fill out another 100 pounds, because they make can-shaped clothing, and some of it is pretty cool. Anyways...chubby yes, so that all the clothes that are in my size, are made for people the same size who are ...not chubby, and not disproportionate. I was upset yesterday, because it took me three hours. THREE hours to find a pair of black workpants that may or may not fit even still, because I was so fed up that I just guessed and bought them. And I'm so fed up that this is how it is always going to go-- that 90% of the clothing I try on, does not fit correctly. I love clothes. I hate wearing hoodies all the time. But the fact is, a hoody is a total safe zone for me, because I don't have to worry about things sticking out as much. But holy fuck...some of those store clerks look at me like I have the worst taste in clothing in the world, and it slays me. I would dress better if I could. Maybe I should send this to Opera. Probably I will just go on a diet, because I don't have time to exercise.
On the upside...somebody likes me (HA): A person who I could not identify, phoned the store on Sunday afternoon and proceeded to wank off into the phone before I knew what was going on. What a special moment. I have my guesses as to who it might have been, but I suppose that's not just something you confront a customer with.
"Oh ____, by the way, thanks for Sunday's call. Was it special for you? Because I know it really touched my heart to hear your heavy breathing and moaning." ¶ 10:42 AM
Surprising joys to me lately, have been several things, all focussed in and around the store. John has been phoning me at work lately, when he knows things are dead. Which, during the week, is often. And Sundays until about seven.
Yesterday was fairly miserable (and later I found, unneccessarily so), because I had a) problems with the Macs at school (it's all fine to have to learn how to use them because you want to, but when there's considerable stress involved in mastering the computer and a design program in a matter of a day or less, it makes me want to rip my hair out. Couple that with chronic server problems, and I was not in good shape yesterday when it came time to print out an assignment after surpassing all that crap somehow, and then being halted for not "setting up a printing account", which is to say, giving the prof two dollars as a printing fee.)
b)YES, this blog may turn into a venting page for a while. Deal with it.
c) I fucking hate shopping. HATE. I've adopted a new policy of just telling the salespeople to go fuck themselves (much more politely than that, most of the time), because I hate seeing that look in their faces when they come up to you that starts out as "Oh, I'm dying to be helpful" that fades into, "wow, you are not going to look good in anything in our store. Can I suggest an accessory?"
Funnily enough, I know I'm chubby, but I'm not hideously overweight either. No no...hideously overweight people can find clothes no problem now! I'm almost tempted to fill out another 100 pounds, because they make can-shaped clothing, and some of it is pretty cool. Anyways...chubby yes, so that all the clothes that are in my size, are made for people the same size who are ...not chubby, and not disproportionate. I was upset yesterday, because it took me three hours. THREE hours to find a pair of black workpants that may or may not fit even still, because I was so fed up that I just guessed and bought them. And I'm so fed up that this is how it is always going to go-- that 90% of the clothing I try on, does not fit correctly. I love clothes. I hate wearing hoodies all the time. But the fact is, a hoody is a total safe zone for me, because I don't have to worry about things sticking out as much. But holy fuck...some of those store clerks look at me like I have the worst taste in clothing in the world, and it slays me. I would dress better if I could. Maybe I should send this to Opera. Probably I will just go on a diet, because I don't have time to exercise.
On the upside...somebody likes me (HA): A person who I could not identify, phoned the store on Sunday afternoon and proceeded to wank off into the phone before I knew what was going on. What a special moment. I have my guesses as to who it might have been, but I suppose that's not just something you confront a customer with.
"Oh ____, by the way, thanks for Sunday's call. Was it special for you? Because I know it really touched my heart to hear your heavy breathing and moaning." ¶ 10:42 AM
