Five dollars for ONE SONG.
Thanks a heap, iTunes.
That is one expensive song that I could've downloaded illegally but instead I opted for the slightly better version from your store. One expensive song, indeed.
What an interesting way to start out a post when I haven't updated this (un)popular blog in... however many months it's been since I've updated it.
Or maybe it isn't, it's your choice really but the fact of the matter is that I don't care what you choose. Why are you still even reading this?
I'm in Califor-nye-ay.
It's... hmmm.
The best way for me to describe it is to compare it to that party I went to in West Linn last fourth of July.
The weather is perfect--not too hot, not too cold. I'm coming down from the high of being drunk to the point of stomach ejaculation and I'm looking around at my company--watching everyone having a good time...playing beer pong and talking about the current reigning Queen Slut of West Linn high school (her name was Manoli by the way. I know, it sounds like a type of pasta. That's what I said.)--and I'm not amused. I'm bored, I'm feeling ill and I just want to go to bed.
But I'm stuck in West Linn while my car sits in the deep of N-E-P and my ride is lying face down on the floor--talking to herself.
Suddenly remember why I avoid parties like this in the first place.
And you might be thinking, "But Andrea, aren't you in full support of rambunctious, young gallivanting under the influence of alcohol? I thought you enjoyed such scenarios." I do, but I enjoy it when I know more than one person--and that person is not PASSED OUT ON THE FLOOR--and when I'm handed a drink that hasn't come out of a can that's been sitting out--opened--for three hours.
This is how I feel about my current situation in the land of plastic and shiny cars.
I only know a select few--of whom I'm directly related to or will be related to soon--and I've kind of been given the short end of the stick because I'm shacking up with the parental units.
I don't regret coming down here. It's only for the summer so why am I bitching? And I'm indeed over the top, jump-up-and-down-screaming-while-waving-my-arms-in-the-air-and-running-down-the-street-stark-naked-excited-to-be-away-from-my-retail-job.
I. hate. Macy's. I hate Macy's with a passion so strong I would gladly sell my soul to Satan and sacrifice my first born child to see my former store and the entire corporation burn to the ground in a giant explosion of smoke and flames.
Just hand me the matches and the gasoline and I will get the job done with outstanding efficiency.
Anyway.
I found myself a job, I'm employed in the coffee industry.
I like it... I like making drinks for people. I have an endless supply of coffee at my fingertips and I don't have to put away clothing.
However, my manager seems to think I'm something special and should be treated like a pet. "Would it be weird for me to tell you that I'm more interested in you than I am in celebrities?" "I can tell you and I are going to be best friends. We should get an apartment together." This last one was a joke but it still managed to come out in such a way that made me gag inside. "You're only nineteen? Wow, you seem so much older."
And my personal favorite that makes my insides churn with disgust,
"You're going to have to give me a ride home sometime." and when I laugh it off and tell him I'm not going to because I will get lost he says, "No, you are."
As if someday I'm going to decide that I want to deal with him longer than I absolutely have to.
When I was learning to steam milk (THREE HOURS of milk training; I've spent less time studying for an important final.) he seized the opportunity to stand directly behind me and "guide" my hands.
Are you uncomfortable yet? I know I sure am.
I tell myself, "Maybe it's just his way. Maybe that's how he gets to know his employees." but let me tell you, I've observed him with other female employees and it is NOT the same.
And it wouldn't be as irritating if he weren't so leery about it. It's a lurch sort of way that he says things.
And in addition to the leering, he's EXTREMELY temperamental; any minute thing can set this guy off and his entire day is ruined.
"What? Subway was out of cold cut ham? THE WORLD IS OVER AND I'M GOING TO TAKE IT OUT ON YOU BY BABYSITTING YOU AND TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO EVERY TWO SECONDS."
Is it just a random coincidence that I should quit a job where my over 40 year-old GM was a complete and total perverted asshole only to come to a new job where my 40 year-old afternoon manager seems to think we need to get up close and personal with each other?
Or, is it my karma coming back at me for trash talking all the time?
How many times do I have to scoff at his jokes and give the one-word-answer-don't-touch-me response before he gets the damn hint?
...
...
...
Now that I've got myself all worked up, I will also share with you that I misplaced my telephone today.
I've always done the generic, "Oh no, the guy who lost his phone can't live without it for two seconds. What ever is he going to do--fnar fnar." but the truth is...
my hand feels naked.
I'm pretty sure it fell out of my pocket at work and was kicked under the counter somewhere but there's also the possibility that I accidentally tossed it in the trash and it is now on its way to a landfill somewhere.
Oh, what a sad day.
And now this:
nataliedee.com
