Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 


So far, January has felt almost entirely like December. More people have been out shopping than I can recall from last year, there's been more work at the store to contend with, and I have these vague hallucinations regarding something called "leisure time."

Writing pretty much got shelved this entire past month, the Project came to a grinding halt and I find myself missing both things immensely. (On a completely unrelated note, the level of "immensely" also describes the growing contempt for my job. Though ironically, apparent studies show that my growing contempt also results in me working harder/more while I'm at my job.)

February, I pray, will be slower. Maybe. Doubtful?

While the kiosk closes in roughly 2 weeks, in 2 1/2 weeks the entire store gets to go through Inventory. I found out about that two days ago. Thanks for the early warning, Head Office. This will subsequently be followed by a whirlwind tour of Connecticut, wherein Mel's family shall be visited and gratuitious Christmas gifts will be tossed about.

I think I'll take the spring season off. Call in with a slight case of moral superiority or God Complex or something. Just after I've won the lottery and beaten Neil Gaiman in an arm-wrestling contest. (Which I need to add to my "To Do" list now.)

Today's Lesson: nothing wakes you up quite as uniquely as a 45-pound Springer Spaniel landing on your stomach.
posted by Phillip at 5:44 AM

 

Sometimes I think that my relationship with Blogger, online diary of sorts that it is, is something akin to my Lego collection. Every now and again I forget completely about it, or don't really care to take it out and play with it. Once I do sit down and reaffirm our relationship, it can only be after I've blown the dust off everything, but I'll feel warm and happy for having done so.

Then again, at least with Blogger I don't have to worry about the cat showing up and potentially choking on one of its random bits.

But meh, sometimes life just gets in the way and other times I have enough mental capacity to at least tie the bib around my neck before I spend 3-4 hours drooling in front of the TV. Ah, escapism. Ah, atrophy.

I find it somewhat boggling how in the peak of what should be our dead season, we're still doing a surprising amount of business. The store still has enough customers to keep me finishing off my shifts with a, "I could have sworn I'd have been bored today." Sure, being bored would be a bad thing about 2 weeks down the road, especially if you all have to suffer through me whining about it (extreme emo action!!), but right now I could do with a tumbleweed or two blowing through the mall.

As it is, the kiosk is contending with transfers from a sister kiosk that closed down this week...and all of said transfers are for the most part useless crap that they probably won't sell and definitely don't need in stock. Like the intestine-scarf. I kid you not, there's a scarf out at the kiosk that looks like someone took a shoddy green scarf and interwove it with pieces of someone's digestive tract. There's bulges (not lines, but a series of bulges!) of red, purple and yellowy-orange running through it.

I'm seriously contemplating using this scarf as a Confic prop. Consider:


Hysteria: "But Hysteria made her kawaii little Chaos-poppa a kawaii little scarf-chan made with love and intestinal fortitude. Emphasis on the intestines!"

Chaos: -.-;; "Uh, Hysteria? Just whose intestines are those?"

Desolation: [grabbing the scarf] "Give me thoooooose! I've been looking for these for weeks!"


But beyond that, there's the usual smegheadery of Head Office and the rather peculiar "I'm-not-to-sure-what-to-make-of-it-smegery" of one of the newer seasonal employees at the kiosk. Now I'll be honest: the lady in question is very nice, and works hard and is very good at selling things. However...she works almost 2 seconds behind everyone else. No, really. In any conversation, if I were to say something to her, there would be roughly a 2-3 second pause, wherein you could almost see the gears in her head creaking along to form a response.

And then there's the common sense. And lack thereof.

Like earlier this week, when she asked about American currency. Now while our computers do give the option of people paying in US dollars, Head Office has decreed that unless otherwise noted all stores cannot accept American currency. Which is fine and dandy for the most part. US bills, I can understand, since the exchange rate shifts a lot.

Enter our employee, who asks when Mel arrives for her shift, "Do we accept American currency? I wasn't sure, so I didn't put this in the cash till" and promptly hands her a US penny. Apparently, this lone US penny had gotten mixed up with the rest of the customer's Canadian change. And our employee, genuinely concerned, was unsure if we could accept even a penny if it was American.

Before this employee, I had yet to meet anyone who even cared if an American quarter, let alone a penny, co-mingled with its Canadian counterparts. I myself believed it was common sense that, if the customer didn't care about Canadian/American coins, neither should we, and the two can naturally be interchangeable. Bills are, of course, the exception.

But pennies? Which does beg the question: how do you shoot down the offered penny?

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we don't accept American currency of any kind at this location. There is a bank in the mall, however, so if you want, just head over there and get this converted into a Canadian penny. I hear the exchange rate on pennies is very good right now."

I don't think even a Customer Appreciate Pancake Maker would be able to hold back the frothing mad masses.

In other news, I see winter has finally decided to put in an apperance, though the weather itself is still being mildly schizophrenic. (Sun today, with yesterday being overtaken by grey unpleasantness and enough sleet to make every intersection a potential crash site.) And Tachi the bunny managed to eat her way through her water bottle. Don't ask me how, but she found a way.


Today's Lesson: when your sock inexplicably gets cold & wet, and there's no visible hole in your shoe, it's still time to get a new pair of shoes.
posted by Phillip at 8:38 PM

 

The post-Commercialmas OMG seems to have run its course, and I of course (am not a horse...unless you're referring to Chinese zodiacs, in which case I am a horse...of course) have only begun to start the inevitable clean-up of the store. While everything out front has been spiffy-fied (spiffified? Spellchecker seems to hate both these hybrids. But meh, it also hates pyjamallama, so what does it know?), the back stockroom looks like something unpleasant exploded all over it.

My best simile comparison would put the stockroom's state of affairs somewhere between "what your house looked like after your teenaged kids threw a wild, high-school party that eventually involved the police" and "not respectible in the slightest".

There's also a growing mound of paperwork to eventually whittle away at. Next week. Or so the rumour mill has it.

But enough of that. There was enough Emo-mas (ooh! Another new vocabulary mutation!) hype all December. It's January now, a new year to boot, and so here they are: my new year's resolutions.

For everyone else.

You see, I've decided that self-resolutions are ultimately overrated (like pants) and in the end vastly depressing since we always seem to make personal resolutions we either have trouble keeping or fail at within a few months. This only leads to a cycle of self-doubt and loathing. The natural solution and obvious course of action is for us...and by "us" I mean "me"...to make resolutions for everyone else! That way, you can indulge in all the righteous anger over failed resolutions without all that pesky self-guilt.




1) everyone must bow before my obvious splendiforousness and inherent sexiness. It doesn't have to be literal, mind you. I'll accept public and/or online declarations relating to how magnificent I am, and how the world is a better place for me being there. One could go so far as to argue the world was created specifically for me, and spent all this time attempting to perfect itself for my arrival...in which case, I'm still slightly disappointed that there are no giant robots for me to pilot.

2) everyone must adopt my policy of "pants being overrated" at least once a month. Now granted, it might be a particularly cold month...not that you'd have guessed by December's lacklustre performance...and for those months, you can practice your "no-pants policy" indoors.

3) "pyjamallama" must be recognized as a viable word in Webster's English Dictionary.

4) the Evidence Mice must be brought to justice.

5) someone must invent a giant robot for me to pilot. (And no, Sailor Gundam is not an acceptable mecha.)


There are other resolutions out there, I'm sure, but I'll add them to this little bit of nowhere as the capricious whims come to me. In the meanwhile, I encourage you to make your resolutions for the general masses. Just remember: worship my splendiforousness must be there. My ego demands it!

And cookies! My ego demands cookies!

Aaaaah, the new year is already off to a productive start...

Today's Lesson: it's harder than you think to kill off an entire cast of characters. Unless you're Joss Whedon.
posted by Phillip at 8:55 PM

 


So far, the new year is shaping up to be a significant improvement over what I saw yesterday. Ah, sunshine, how I have missed you. I would comment how seeing you instils multi-orgasmic rays of sunshine in my stomach, but that sounds both redunant and scary. (As far as the Discovery Channel has told me, orgasms are not yet solar-powered.)

Last night was spent in the company of a few movies, a lot of alcohol and the beginnings of a hangover I am happy to say is currently just a mild nuisance of a headache. This morning was spent in the company of Mel, who had curled up into me (and pinning my arm beneath her in the process) and our Shih-tzu on the other side of me...hogging my entire pillow. While I love Shady to pieces, I don't exactly rank "waking up to a dog's furry butt in my face" high on my list of boy, isn't this a great way to start the day?

Anyhoo, I look forward to this year with great optimism. Fics will come to a close, stories may begin anew, The Project whilst being pushed back slightly is still on track, and the theory goes that the mall will be suddenly find itself akin to a ghost town. At least in comparison to last week, which was almost as busy if not busier than the week before Commercialmas.

As a result, I really must classify last week as: monkeyfuckbutter bad. Now bear in mind monkeyfuckbutter needs to be read and taken as a whole, since dividing it up into its three component nouns sounds a lot like something you get when you're about to lose at a game of Google Seppuku. But as a whole entity, monkeyfuckbutter is a great, spontaneous vulgarity
you can both impress your friends and horrify your parents with.

In other news, the following conversation transpired a few days ago as Mel & I ventured into a random Walmart:

Mel: "Wow, this place is identical to the one in Brantford."

Me:"I'll say. You can't tell the two apa--oooh, cookies!!"

[Cue me suddenly veering off to a giant wall display of cookies.]

Mel: [sigh!] "You are such an idiot."


Today's Lesson: the coolest explosions in the universe are the ones we'll never see. (Stupid millisecond-pulsars...)
posted by Phillip at 8:07 AM