The Particular SUCK of SNOW

I went home for Christmas; which was nice.

Plenty of food. Comfy bed.  Good company.

No snow in sight.

And then, on the day I was to leave. Snow. Yuck. I hate snow.

We ventured out early on...the roads were shitty and hadn't been salted.  Turned around, went back to my parent's house. 

A few hours later we tried again. The roads were still shitty but had been salted.  So we decided to press onward.  At a roaring 25 to 30 mph on main arteries through Amish county in low gear in the Little Yellow Car that Could.  Low fear for hold back...otherwise...the Little Yellow Car That Could...likes to take off like a Rocket Ship and we would have ended up in the ditch like lots of other people.

At blazing speeds we made a treacherous and scary journey to Wooster, OH and then to Ashland, OH.  I counted all the tiny, small burgs as Glorious Victories.  SUVs weren't faring much better. They just had better ground clearance and more weight.  The Little Yellow Car that Could is made mostly of lightweight fiberglass and plastic.

The other drivers, even on the Ohio Turnpike (Yet another Glorious Victory!!!! We made it to an INTERSTATE!!!!!) were fairly courteous.  The closer to Michigan we ventured, the less courteous and more scary the other drivers became.  Yes, blaze past me on slickery road just to slam on your brakes because there are SNOW PLOWS in all the lanes....and somehow, you didn't manage to see all the hulk and flashing lights. Don't know how.

I gave up the driver's seat ten miles after the Michigan border at the first available rest stop.  I had driven with total tunnel vision, utter concentration and steady on the pedal...on and off the shifting in and out of low gear for a grand total of...6.5 hours...which wouldn't have been so awful if the roads had been less treacherous.  I was spent.

Jon then took over for the remaining hour and a half.  He kept saying how interesting the roads were, so I'd look over, check his speed and tell him, the roads would get less interesting at a slower speed.  The other drivers were plenty miffed at us...but they SHOULDN'T have been going as fast as they were driving and they shouldn't have been driving so close to our car as they were.  We mainly just stuck ourselves in the slow lane (when there were lanes)  behind some steady but slow semi truck.  If those guys are going slow and steady, the roads aren't safe.

At last check, when I walked in the door and called my parents to let them know we were home safe, they had about 8 inches of snow...which I would have been stuck at their house unless someone plowed out their driveway for me.  Yellow Car that Could bottoms out at around 8 inches...10 tops. It was still snowing when I called, so no idea what their total really was.  Here, we had a good 5 inches...so I had to go out, find the show shovel and scrape off our porch.

Stupid snow.

I also need to shovel off the sidewalk, do the porch again, and buy salt.

I think idiots walking in the snow in front of other people's houses should be aware they could potentially fall on their asses and hurt themselves.  I am not a store. I do not offer a public service. Therefore, they should have NO RIGHT to sue me..however, in this awesome country we live in, they somehow have that right.  I think I should have signs made up that read 

"Warning: there is snow. You may fall on your ASS and hurt yourself" 

 

 

 

School Shootings and Christmas Muzak

Fairly annoyed with lots of recent happenings.

Firstly, I have been listening to irritating Xmas music for...four solid weeks now...it does not put one in the Christmas spirit, or...whatever its supposed to do....it just grates one's nerves and causes visions of taking an axe to evil Musak box while I am subjected to the idiotic music for 40 hours a week--more if I am at any other retailer.  I know its not making the shoppers any less crabby...in fact, I think it only reminds them that they have little money and little time to spend.

School shootings and the way simplistic folk like to place simplistic solutions on a very serious issue.  Somehow, (according to most of my friends, family and acquaintances via Facebook)  its because of the following:

1.  God, the Existence or Lack of, Satan, the Existence or Lack of,  and the absence of religion and prayer within the school system. 

I find this one troubling.  Of course religion and prayer in school is absent.  We, in this country that was founded on religious freedom, have made a choice to separate church and state.  Pray to a Christian God, then you must then pray to a God/Goddess/Deity from EVERY faith so as not to show favoritism.  Also, I fail to see exactly how prayer in school would have stopped an armed, mentally ill person from being deranged.

There have always been good and bad things in the world.  Every religion has yet been powerless to prevent the bad.

2.  Gun Control (because, as we all know, the mentally deranged often obey ALL the laws)

Also troubling since I have a gun and so have most of my family, friends and acquaintances for all of my life.  All of us have been trained, since childhood, to treat ALL guns as if they are loaded and to NOT point them at anything/one that you do not intend to kill...meaning we were taught properly to respect things that cannot be taken back. Once that bullet leaves the chamber, someone or something is going to be hurt or die. 

There have been no gun accidents in my family.  It is a hugely large family who all own guns, and several have Concealed Carry Licenses.

There was one suicide.  A properly trained Vietnam Vet who INTENDED to end HIS OWN life. Not someone else's.  And yes, he was mentally ill.  After all that, it would be more surprising that he had come home unscathed.

The U.S. Constitution gives us the right to have and bear arms.  If the government does somehow manage to outlaw them, most of us will still have and bear arms, just illegally.  This country is nothing if not a country filled with rebels.  Just because the government says something is so does not make us all follow along like happy, trusting sheep.

The guns in the shooting were LEGALLY OBTAINED by a teacher.  Shooters can always find guns, legally or illegally; according to the pattern, it just doesn't matter. Timothy McVeigh used explosives, the 911 conspirators used airplanes....the HOW doesn't matter so much as the WHY.

THE WHY

It is NOT done purely for notoriety, which is what apparently Morgan Freeman has suggested.  I don't remember ANY of the names for ANY of the school shootings since Columbine.  Notoriety, is probably involved in some, weird twisted manner, just how, I cannot say.

I would say the availability of mental health services, the lack of mental health institutions, the lack of affordable treatment, and the lack of health insurance would be more to blame than guns.  Always, in these tragedies, some form of mental health help would most likely have been beneficial and perhaps prevented them from even happening, or at least given the parents of these individuals some options.  I read a really really interesting article about it today.

I am going to post it.

Here It Is

The fact that this is a cycle that keeps occurring makes me wonder just what can be done to stop it.  What are each of us NOT noticing about our own daily lives.  Small things somehow always become big things when ignored.  I know in my own marriage its always the small things that come back to bite us in the ass when we least expect it because, at the time, they weren't large enough issues to have been addressed properly.

Okay, enough of my tirade. I've probably bored everyone stiff...but, if I don't get to vent, I would surely spontaneously combust.

Whine

I am tired of being the girl with the stiff upper lip...and the one who makes do, the survivor....the one who decides which bills to turn off and which to keep...the one who keeps going into survival mode every time something crappy rears its ugly head...and it does, seemingly all too often for our means.

Nothing is really wrong.

I'm tired of arguing with Jon over stupid crap simply because I ask too many questions simply because he hasn't given me any pertinent information and he is grouchy.  Seemingly the most innocuous subjects can cause him to become angry as of late.

I think he is tired of me taking control and running with it...only...I'm the main reason we have survived financially the past few years...and his judgement with money is questionable--on his own admission.  I think he is tired of me being the head of the household and yet utterly proud that I am so good at what I do at the same time.

He whines incessantly that we don't have much time off work together and yet tonight made plans with people I don't know or even like to stay out until they feel like driving him back to wherever the hell he parked his Jeep so he can come home.  It just makes no sense to me. 

I am supposed to fix all ills. It's my fault the dryer and the oven don't work simply because I don't really care that much if they do work.  We've done fine without a dryer for...7 months...and the oven's been broken for...I dunno...a year or more?  But Jon whines about this a lot for someone who hasn't lifted a finger to fix either one. I know if I was truly bothered by the fact that either was broken, I would have fixed them by now. I truly just don't care.

I am supposed to be a key finder, phone finder, finder of inhalers, glasses and anything lost. Only I don't want to be a finder of anything that I didn't lose.  No idea how he can't recall where he sets things down.  It's not my responsibility to locate objects.

I am expected to wash the dishes, vacuum the carpet, clean up after the animals, and in general do the laundry and yet the trash sits from last week because someone never managed to walk it to the curb. The one chore that is his besides the shopping and the cooking (because he cooks, he gets to shop) and takes the least amount of time...he rarely remembers to do it.  He cooks more rarely than ever as well, preferring to eat greasy garbage then arguing with me when I complain that I'm hungry too and that I can't eat loads of things out.

I guess I'm feeling under appreciated by the one person who is supposed to appreciate me the most.


And all I can think is that I want to go play in the rain under some trees...or walk in the rain under some trees like I used to do on days where I'm feeling moody and just breathe in the clean air. Only, there is no clean air, or peaceful quiet trees...there are only streets with people and cars where I don't feel safe wandering about after dark.  I used to wander at all hours with no fear of anything.  There's no going back, really, and that makes me sad.

Neighbors and Religious Zealots

I have new neighbors.

Yes, I know, uck.

Especially when my previous neighbor was a nice octogenarian whose most annoying attribute was that he seemed to constantly be raking and maintaining his yard because he had lots of time on his hands. He was quiet and never once complained that we were making noise, kept to himself, mostly, but was pleasant, well mannered and interesting.  So Jon and I were both sad when we realized he had died.

So far the Replacement Neighbors are fairly quiet and keep to themselves....if I ignore the bit where they tried to convert the neighborhood to whatever religion they practice.  Yep. Knocking on doors with literature. Sorry. Go away. If you want to come over and knock on my door, then fine. Introduce yourselves and say hello...don't try make me a part of your religious quota.

And yes, The Replacements have three cars with a large two car garage and yet, none of the cars manage to park in the garage. Weird, but I really don't care that much about that. What DOES annoy me is The Replacements are constantly turning around at the end of MY driveway when turning around in their OWN driveway should be sufficient since only one vehicle parks in the driveway so they have plenty of space in which to turn.

So I have been parking lengthwise across the driveway behind Jon's Jeep. Yes, that's right. NO ONE is parking in my driveway, not even ME because I am irritated that The Replacements don't want to maintain their own driveway to the point that they have decided they can only turn around in mine.  I bet The Replacements won't get the hint...but hey, its that or I make my own tire spikes from a two by four and some 6 inch spikes...and that's really inconvenient because I'd have to move it every time I left the house or arrived home. 

An automatic gate would really be ideal...but I don't have the money for that, and would definitely take the gate and the opener with me if I ever manage to move away from the too many people.

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Jon stopped to help a man in a disabled vehicle that was blocking a busy stretch of Beech Daly yesterday.  The man immediately asked him if he was a Christian. Jon said "No."  The man then, while fiddling with his battery cable, proceeded to ask "Do you know Jesus is the Savior?" Why not a simple, "thank you for stopping to help"?  The car started, it WAS a loose battery cable, but why not just thank someone for offering assistance instead of asking about religion?  People are so weird.

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All I can get out of all the crazy zealots lately is that Jon and I must look like we are going to hell. Ah, oh well. At least we try to be good people and not be hypocrites.  Also, if we are required to convert a certain number of people to make it into heaven, maybe we don't want to go there anyway. I have enough quotas and standards at work to need them in my afterlife.

Let's Do the Time Warp, Again

Dreams are an interesting time warp.

I haven't seen my grandfather in 17 years due to his being deceased but I saw him this morning; in a dream.

There I was back at the tiny trailer where they lived standing over the sink and he was there asking if I was going to wash the dishes that I'd dirtied.  I said, yes, of course, never missing a beat, but so glad to see him. Tiny, wrinkled, but sharp of mind which wasn't the case in his last few years and pain-free which I vaguely recall him being--back when I was five--before his heart surgery. He just was never the same after that.

I was an adult in the dream. I was 18 when he died but, looking back, I have grown up a lot in 17 years.  I was  hanging out talking to him about nothing important or substantial when I realized I had let myself into someone else's house.

I used to live there, after my Grandmother died and before I moved to Michigan.  The neighbors bought the land and trailer in the mean time and one of their daughters are living there with her family.

In the dream I had "broken in" but all my grandparents' things were still there, even though I realized that I had cleaned out the trailer and taken loads of those things with me in the move.

I was standing at the sink doing the dishes when the owner of the house pulled up. I knew she was coming because she had been making soap or something on my grandparents' table (which my cousin Shelley has) and so had to greet her and apologize for breaking in. Handed her the key (which I don't have)  and explained that I had been talking to my grandparents (who she knew).

Really, really strange.  And then I woke up.

My grandmother died just before Thanksgiving in 2007. And my grandpa died just before Christmas way back in 1995.  And yes, I still miss them both.

Day of Purgatory: Part the Third

Black Friday. I always work it. 

Staggeringly different this year. No crowds, at least not really.  Periods of time being able to walk away from the register. Hardly ran out of anything so no need to worry about rain checks.  Periods of time only running one register.  Boring. Employees were sent HOME....that's NEVER happened before.

Oh, don't get me wrong. $47,000 worth of business in one day never happens at that store. But we were busier last year and people didn't even know the store was there.  Our store plan was $68,000.  Meaning, the company projected that it would at least be as busy as last year with hopes to do more business.

Why did it fail?

The ad. It's boring.  It has been virtually the same for the five years I have worked for the company. It really never changes.  How many chainsaws, leather boots, gun safes, and air compressors does one person really need over that period of time?  The biggest business we did was for things that people need or want every day. Such as black oil sunflower seed and softener salt.  I think if the company offered more sales on things like horse, chicken and dog feed, we'd have done much better. People need those things.  Feeds are high right now.

Our marketing department.  The ads are so globbed together and unexciting that hell, just from looking at it, I'm bored. I can't imagine a customer being excited over it. 

Our buyers.  There is clothing in the ad...but the buyers who buy the clothing must be blind.  I can't imagine wearing most of it. Oh, the men's clothing is fine. It's the  women's clothing. It is geared to ladies of a certain age and ten year olds.  Since most of the female population is neither....a huge chunk of the market is missing. I know I wouldn't buy a damn thing in that clothing department right now unless it was a Carhartt hoodie or something like that.  The fabrics are also at fault...they are so thin that if you get cold, everyone will know...and the fit is at fault...manufactured in China (like every thing is now) where boob sizes must be smaller, the sleeves start too close too the shoulder and the boobs have no room, making the smallest person with any boobs at all look dumpy.

The shift to major retailers being open Thanksgiving night.  By the time we opened Friday morning at 6 am...and did NO business until 7 am, everyone was either sleeping or had spent all their money. 

I also wonder about the ads getting mailed out on time.  At our particular location, we have had at least 100 customers on prior ads come in complaining that the ad wasn't in their mailbox until it had ended. My previous manager (we are currently manager-less)  honored the ad to make them happy.  I believe this could be the case again...but could be wrong since a friend whose daughter works at a different location also said it was slow there...and that store is easily 100 percent busier on a normal day than ours.

The store was quite immaculate when we left last night. And we left nearly an hour earlier than we were supposed to leave. That has never ever happened. On a proper Black Friday, the store will be thrashed for at least a week before it is borderline back in shape, because from here on out, TSC basically does an ad per week to get rid of the Christmas items hopefully before they go to ridiculous clearance prices.

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On another note, I am told we will now be borrowing an ASM from Whitmore Lake until the first of the year.  First it was for a week, then until the first of December, and now, until January.  I kind of think he is going to be our manager.  Sounds like the TSC way...sneak someone in, get them and us used to the situation and then, make the announcement.  I don't really care.  He's okay, doesn't pick on me, but then, I do my job...but others have taken up arms against him because he gets after them to work hard.  I have tried explaining that its because he worked with Cindy who worked with Janet and so they both were perfectionist taskmasters...and that is how the job is supposed to be done.  He just is rubbing people the wrong way right now because he's going about it incorrectly.  Oh well. Not my problem.  I have no problem with it...I also worked with Janet and Cindy. I'm used to it.

Day of Purgatory: Part the Second

I knew there was trouble the instant we arrived at the mother in laws...no available workspace in which to prepare food. Ummm?  What?  We piled crap everywhere to make room and then had to take the garbage out.  Can't really blame her, she worked until 2 am then got up and cleaned the house...vacuuming and such.
And then we had to cook.

What a horrible, waste of a day.  Six hours later, I am home.

Just for starters, if attending a family event, don't ask questions if you aren't prepared to handle the answers.  One of the attendees was Jon's cousin Whatsername.  She decided to ask probing questions after noticing that I was not fawning over her not so cute walking baby. In fact, I was looking over its head wondering why the hell these people were blocking my view of Looney Tunes which was on the television because I had no interest in them at all, having met them before and found them boring.

Whatsername asked why we don't have kids.

I said it was because I hate them.

She was taken aback, but just had to keep digging away. "Well, why?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just always have. Even when I was a kid myself." Feeling insulted, I added, "I'd rather blow my own brains out than raise a poo making spawn that is basically a human parasite for at least 18 years."

I know this struck a nerve particularly because Whatsername might just have turned 18. She has an 18 month old.  Dropped out of high school. Is sponging off her parents and the State of Michigan and so is her Baby Daddy. Yep. They are BOTH unemployed spongers that are getting money for bringing a life into the world accidentally.  I already knew the back story here...figured I may as well insult her since she'd already insulted me.

Nosy bitch.

And still, this wasn't enough.

Whatsername  asked, "Do you have siblings that have children?"

"Oh yes," I said, "my brother now has a 6 or 7 month old.  He's dead to me now. I probably won't really see him again until its moved out of their house."  I was quiet for a moment before adding, "he really didn't want kids either, you see...but now he has one.  But  at least now that he has one, he takes care of it." (Not all of this is exactly the truth, but ask rude questions, get lies.)

Whatsername finally decided she'd had enough and left me alone. I kind of wondered where she went because its a small house and there was nowhere to run or I'd have run away long before...just to be less crowded.

What she did was run to Jon and tell him that I hate kids like this was broadcast news.  He's known me for five years. Three years before we got married and two years since.  He knew I didn't like kids for three years before our wedding.  He thought it an odd statement until I told him she'd pissed me off and what I'd been saying to her. Then he laughed and said he didn't care what I said to "that skank."

We left all our stuff there. Jon says he'll get it tomorrow.  It's the first holiday meal that I've gone home hungry.  I made soup.  It was the only edible thing.  Green bean casserole: wheat. Stuffing: more wheat. Pies: wheat, wheat, wheat. Mashed potatoes: not wheat, but I don't like them really. Turkey, yuck. Ham, kind of  yuck, but better than turkey...just depends who is cutting off the gross fatty bits.  So I am still hungry. Rather be hungry than pissed off all damn day.  I couldn't get drunk enough to NOT be angry and claustrophic.  I really think the anger voids the alcohol's effectiveness.

The only people I could stand: Jon, his sister's family, and Jon's parents, and a guy named Tommy. Everyone else could fall off the face of the earth and the world would probably be a better place. I am not doing this next year. No amount of guilt, no amount of tears is getting me to go through this charade again. I'd rather stay home, eat a gluten free pizza, or whatever...and at least enjoy the day.

Day of Purgatory: Part the First

So far on this day of purgatory I have only managed three hours of sleep in between nightmares of recovering the store and front facing the store. For those of you who don't know what this means, it means eternally cleaning up after slobs who will hopefully buy things and spend money, but whose sole joy in life seems to be relocating objects and in general thrashing the store instead of buying things. Dreaming about work annoyed me enough that I was unable to return to sleep.

And then, when I decided, at 6 am, that I would like to try to go back to sleep...Fat Kitty decided to yowl for breakfast. She never gets fed until at least 8 or 9...or 10 at the latest so I am not sure why she randomly decided that she must sporadically yowl for two hours while I am trying to sleep on my day off.

Vincent the Bunny then decided it was time for his morning laps and bunny play time.  Usually I am able to sleep through this, since he is the quietest furry friend in the house but with all the yowling...um, no.

Then it started, snores that could be heard on the next block. I tried rolling Jon over, poking and prodding him, but to no avail. The snoring would not stop.

Doggles decided to whine at me because he wanted out. Oh, no, now the damn dogs are in on the conspiracy!

So I gave up.  I got up, let the dogs out. Fed the cats at a normal time. And wondered why all the things were so annoying this morning.

Then I remembered today was Thanksgiving.  Yep.  It's a holiday I seldom enjoy, if ever. Full of have-tos and grouchy bloated people.  The day where I am usually only thankful for leaving the meal at a place I didn't want to go but was somehow tricked by guilt and the promise of free food and so got myself into the hum-drum situation in the first place.

And, yet again, I have been guilted into a dinner at a place where I don't want to spend more than an hour.  That should always be my first clue.  Just say no to dinners at places that make you uncomfortable.  Yes, I know its dinner...and free food...but just say no. But the mother in law crying about how its her birthday AND Thanksgiving made me agree.  Did I mention she has recently become mentally unstable?  So, I am not much looking forward to any of the events that will be happening today.

This will be Jon's family's first Thanksgiving without their Mom/Mother-in-law/Aunt/Grandma Helen.  And Jon's dad is cooking....Jon is worried about that. He said he's going to have to help, but he's still sleeping. This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

To be Continued after the dinner....

The bad kind of excitement

This week was full of...excitement...the bad kind.

I learned, only because of Jon's friend Levon, that an acquaintance had been beaten in his own home, dragged a mile down the road an executed because someone owed him $10,000. Okay, I know this wasn't exactly a stand up citizen and I also didn't particularly like him, but am upset and disturbed that this happened so near our house.  I was equally upset that Jon had no plans to enlighten me even though he and Levon had apparently located the story on the internet and a friend of theirs had attended the funeral.  I, however, can not find the news story.  Maybe it is my natural ineptness with research, I don't know.  I do know that I suck equally at resume writing probably because I hate logical past times.

Our laptop took a fatal fall.  I was much less upset about losing the laptop than violent crime so near the house, understandably.  We have since remedied the problem by buying a new one which appears more durable. It was cheaper than the original anyway. Computers and televisions, they keep getting cheaper.  He chose an older model because he prefers Windows 7.  I told him get whatever he likes. I really only use the computer to pay bills and for recreational use like keeping in touch with family five hours away and lustfully shopping for things I don't need or cannot afford.

Jon's Jeep was broken into and thrashed while it sat in front of our house.  They took his prescription safety glasses, of all things. His eyes are so bad I think anyone else wearing them would walk off a freeway overpass without realizing.  Luckily, he found them abandoned on the next street over.  It's agitating.  The damn Jeep doesn't lock because of rust issues...it is old and well-traveled...but there wasn't a damn thing in it worth more than those glasses...and only worth a lot to one person.

My friend's father in law was in a bad car accident.  The truck is undriveable but he is okay.  He is a nice man. 

Today, however, has been pretty great.  We ate at the Indian restraunt Ruth and Joe found. Mmmmm, tasty. And we went to a couple of antique malls.  We ended up putting a wild orange high back chair on layaway to be picked up after Jon gets paid next Friday.  It was $100 but is sturdy and sits really really nice.  It's worth it. People don't make furniture that solid anymore.  I think it may be from the late 60s or the 70s sometime. Not really good with dating furniture of that age.  But, it will look nice with my wall color. The plan is to search for a second chair, and a small table to set between them and get rid of the smelly couch Shane gave us.   Emma (our dog)  who sometimes believes she is a kitty, stands on the back of the overly poofed couch to bark at people and  has made a lot of the stitching let loose.  I don't care because the thing smells weird...like rank body odor sometimes and has ever since we've had it.

Greedy oil companies

News from the tiny corner of the world where I grew up:

Fracking

One of the 28 permits the article alludes to belongs to my grandfather.  And, yes, they are paying them some type of money...but it will never be enough since this process pollutes ground water and possibly raises the risk of cancer.  The oil companies deny such clams...but since when has pumping chemical waste water into the ground ever been advisable in the history of the world?

This is Fracking

And this is the permit for my grandfather's land

My grandfather is ignorant and all about the almighty dollar. Always has been.  So he gave his permission.  My parents purchased some land from him because, well, they wanted an acre, and because of this, they were entitled to some compensation, not much (considering their quality of life is going to be disrupted) and they are powerless to stop this from happening simply because they own land bordering his.  So they decided to opt for some monetary compensation instead of none.  Even though their water may become undrinkable.

This Week's Featured Neuroses

I am not sure how I feel about life right now.  Strange things have been happening all week.  For instance a friend of Jon's father told us our sewer pipe was broken at the city line.  We borrowed some money from the credit union and got a second opinion.  The second opinion says that its not broken and we are fine.  But, since we borrowed money and basically will owe the interest we are going to repair the water lines.  So living in the house for three years with a trickle of cold water in the kitchen sink, only hot water for the washing machine,  and only hot water for the shower, that will be interesting. I just have to figure out what day this guy is coming out and unless its going to be on my day off I will have to arrange for Ruth to maybe come and hang out at the house.

So I've managed four loads of laundry and still need to wash the bedding. And the dishes. I also think I need to buy crappy toilet paper.  Somehow the pipe always plugs in the same place. I think Jon is using wayyyy too much toilet paper. It's my only explanation. So weird. We don't flush anything down there that isn't the usual. No tampons...no weird objects. I just don't understand why its been such an issue the past six months or so.
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I think Jon's mother needs a therapist.  He said she texted him this week and told him that she was going to miss a mortgage payment but that it was okay because God would somehow magically help them pay the bills. (She's donated $1,000 to some televangelist.)  I fail to see how her donating $1,000 that she needs to pay her bills will buy God's favor.  I don't believe in God but I especially don't believe you could bribe God with money if there was a God.  I really think she's gone mental.

So Jon took the money he had saved for a new pair of shoes (the ones he is wearing have holes in the soles...and they are his only shoes) and took his Dad out to a bar where apparently male-bonding time was spent as they drank beer and ate dinner and his Dad wasted $80 on a poker machine trying to win back some of the money that she donated.

I think she flipped when her mother in law died. I really do.  No one in this dysfunctional family has mourned properly as far as I am concerned...they've ignored it...they've pushed it aside, they've tried to do all the everyday things that normal people do and they're failing radically.  Jon's dad hasn't been the same at all either.  I should probably go talk to her. But I don't want to. I'm not going to be able to help. I just listen to her complain about her life and having no money and that her car is going to die and how Bob treats her...and how her house isn't the way she wants....and am powerless to change it FOR her. SHE has the power. Not ME.
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I have a friend with similar marital issues.  Her self-esteem is just so horrifically low that she allows her husband to make her feel insignificant and ugly.  Far from it. She's quite attractive and has a fun, interesting personality. I love her a lot. 

I have been trying to alter her thought processes by introducing somewhat radical (to her) ideas.  Such as weighing herself every morning isn't healthy because it makes her feel fat so she should just throw away the scale and just try to eat healthy and BE healthy. Weight is just a number, like age. It only matters if you let it. I explained that I don't own a scale because I had issues with it myself as a teenager. 

Her husband tells her she's fat and that he wants her to be thin, like when they met.  Guess its no secret that I don't like him.  Conditional love is for shallow, useless people. I think she could do better but since she's been married to him for 16 years its a habit and she's frightened of change.

I tried explaining that life is short. If something is making her miserable, than it shouldn't be in her life.  Such as me being angry at Jon for using a million water glasses when one washed out would do, so I broke lots of them and got rid of lots of dishes because instead of washing them, he'd just dirty EVERY DISH, PAN, and BOWL we owned and I would end up resentful and angry because I'd have to wash them all.  I got it down to the basics and that's what I can live with and he, after his initial anger, tried suggesting this approach to his parents who apparently have the same problem because it worked for us!

I'll see what she makes of it.  She's clearly been brain-washed by mainstream America. I really hope my eccentricity rubs off, if only a little.
___________________________________________________________________________

And then there is my brain chemistry. I have no idea what has been going on up there. But I feel like a train wreck. I want to laugh, cry, and yell angrily all within the space of a few minutes. It is NOT PMS this time. I don't know what it is.  It's miserable.  It's also brought my insomnia back which is exacerbating the problem.  Sleeping 4-5 hours a night just doesn't cut it.  I want to sleep. I just can't for various reasons including mind on overdrive, clogged sinuses, headaches and the like.
________________________________________________________________________

Another one of the long-term residents of our neighborhood moved away. Why? Because they have money and more and more poor people are moving in. Undesirables. Crime on the rise. I can't blame them, I just envy them. I want to do the same thing.  Just don't know how in the hell we'll ever afford it.
________________________________________________________________________

 On the upside we did meet our friends Ruth and Joe for lunch at a fantastic Indian restrurant that was previously unknown to us. The food was delicious and the place was packed.  But no one minded waiting their turns for a table. 
______________________________________________________________________

Work has been atrocious. I hate people. I have to really work to not make snarky comments at the customers.  I so want to ask the bitchy, pony tailed customer if loosening her pony tail improves her mood because I think its such a tight pony tail that it makes her a bitch.  I want to ask people with horrible children if natural selection wouldn't be a good option for them since they are letting them run wild anyway.  I want to ask that constantly drunk man with the tiny dog in his arms if its easier to read packages BEFORE he's so trashed the words swim and to please not breathe in my personal space.  There are a thousand things I'd love to do to get fired....only I can't afford to be fired.

I love Vincent Price

What happened to the old-school character actor? 

As far as I can tell there are few of these remaining. But, then again, I am fairly disenchanted with movies and television of late...and music...and most creative avenues seem to have run a bit stale.  I guess I was spoiled since I grew up in a fairly creative and artsy decade where things ran a bit dark but there was always a twist.

Anyway, since Halloween is nearing, I have been watching scads of old horror movies. Bela Lugosi in Dracula, Boris Karloff in the Mummy, (and Boris Karloff always brings back beloved memories of Dr. Seuss  because he narrated the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, one of my very favorite cartoons) but my very favorite has always been Vincent Price...if not for his facial expressions, then for his distinctive voice.

So, here he is, talking and poking a bit of fun at himself in a Tim Burton short, which is also one of my very favorite things.

Vincent

End Of October Ramblings

Some freak is driving up and down I 96 shooting at random cars/ people.  All 19 police reports  agree that its a boring looking man driving a boring looking dark colored car.  The police seem to think its a hand gun and are cautioning people against calling him a sniper because he's not using a rifle and no one has actually been shot...yet.  Wow.  Sorry, I guess the cops are technically correct, but...what would you else would you call a nut job with a gun who drives around shooting at people on the freeway?

Other than that...Jon talked to his boss about me maybe working at his factory and got a "I'll consider it." While not exactly welcoming...at least it wasn't a "hell, no" so I suppose I shall go through the application process and see what happens.  I want to be done with my current employer before the horrible Christmas season begins.

Corporate is "threatening" to visit our store.  This means loads of exhausting work and no one will probably even show up. Yay. Four of us were at the store til midnight cleaning last night. And today a crew double the usual crew spent all day cleaning. How...dishonest. The store never looks this good.

I am sooo tired. It's only Tuesday.  I assume its PMS that's making me drag. Don't know. I'm not ill. Just waking up with tired muscles and going to bed with tired muscles. Sooooo tired. Getting enough sleep...just tired.

Getting ready for a Halloween party this weekend!  Remains to be seen who will show up and who will not...but they will be missing the tastiest pudding shots known to mankind!

Can I get a Do-Over for Toady?

The trip to Ohio was a smashing success.  Lots of fun and adventuring were had, and one baby was angered by being restrained in his car seat and shopping. He did however approve of biting multiple surfaces and seems to have a foot and shoe fetish.

Went back into work yesterday.  Jason was so happy to see me he gave me a big hug. I was otherwise unimpressed.  Loads of dog food "overstock" were waiting in the back room and the shelves could have been filled.  The freight team are still bunging things where they please in top stock and things are just exactly as they were. Other than we shall be getting a new manager since ours was paid loads to transfer back to Howell.  I hope whoever it is puts the Princess in her place. She certainly is jumpy and bitchy lately.

Of course our plumbing has taken another dump. Jon called the guy yesterday.  He didn't make it. Then he said today at 11 am. Didn't show. Said, oh, two...will be closer to two thirty...I'm just getting quite frustrated since I haven't showered since the morning I left my mom's house and I can't do laundry or dishes and everything is in shambles. Really like to get this resolved once and for all.  Probably should invest in a composting toilet and just re route all the waste water to some sort of grey water holding tank. Would be a hell of a lot simpler in the long run and no poo threatening to come up through the drain in the floor.

Oh and I have a headache. Yay.  And Jon decided to go gallivanting off and leave me to wait on this guy.  I really don't wanna. I'm gross and dirty and I really want a shower before I face anyone.

The Leaves; They are A'Changing

Ahhh....vacation.

My house is pretty clean.  Keeping up with dishes and chores in general is much easier when there isn't much on the itinerary except for loafing about and eating Bon-Bons. (Oh, yeah, I forgot, I've never eaten a Bon-Bon in my life.  Really. I don't even know if its ice cream or just a chocolate candy and I only vaguely recall the old commercials from the 80s when I was in elementary school.  But gross exaggeration gets the point across.)

I deep sixed the bunny room carpeting and am much loving the ease of using a simple broom and dust pan to clean up stray bedding, hay, hair and any random stray poo pellet that may be a result of zoomy time.  I just need to finish the job which means, at this point, metal edging between the hall carpet and the no carpet (I used tape for now) and trim so the poos don't get into the walls too far.  Oh, and lacquer because I found old, original tiles under the carpeting and they look cool and are in good shape but are probably asbestos.  So some good old fashioned floor lacquer should seal in any possible particulates.  I don't think there are any but its good to be safe.

The garbageman even managed to take away the two rolls of carpeting (yes, yes, I cut it in two for ease of handling and it still wasn't easy) because Redford decided they can now take two large items into the trash instead of charging $75 for one item.  Seems the township was finding loads of abandoned couches, mattresses, carpeting and such lying around in alleyways and in streets or on public property because no one who lives here could afford to pay the outrageous sum just to throw some junk away.  I know I personally sledged and saws-alled a couch and had Jon haul it off to the dumpster at the machine shop where he works just to be rid of it.  Most people don't go to that much work.

Much book reading has happened.  I usually don't have much time for that, either.

Have managed to nearly get my Halloween costume together.  Mask and wings, check.  Already own the clothes. The Goddess of Retribution shall walk.  Oh yes...she has some scores to settle.

Have a game plan for the car insurance. Geico it is.  Two payments of $273 sounds a hell of a lot better than three payments of $375....ah, Nationwide...I can no longer afford you.  It's not like I'm insured to the hilt.  I'm insured to the thinnest scrap of being legal.  Which means if I get hurt or my car does....oh, well...$1,038 is a lot for two cars considering that...for six months.  Dear Michigan, your legislation sucks.  All your mandatory fees and etc, just mean that more uninsured drivers are hitting the roadways. Why? It's near impossible to afford car insurance in this state. Ohio is half price compared to Michigan. Ask me how I know.

For some reason, I have been absolutely starving, like stomach rumbling hungry nearly constantly during my vacation. It's weird.  I don't get this hungry while I am working.  Stress and hatred of my job, perhaps?  Don't know.  Anyway, three meals and a couple snacks!  Wow!   I don't think I have ever managed to eat this much.  Since I've only been eating while feeling physically hungry I don't feel guilty.  I, for most of my life, don't remember getting hungry. I'd just eat automatically because it was the time of day when people eat.  And lots of times I'd feel sick when I ate; so I just wouldn't eat.  Or, I'd even forget to eat because I wasn't hungry. This happens a lot when I am at work.  I HATE eating then needing to do some serious work like tossing 6 tons of dog food.  Makes me feel ill.

The leaves have changed a lot in a week.  They are going to fall from the trees early this year. I assume due to the drought and the heat this past summer.  Stressed trees. 

Tomorrow comes the awful portion of the vacation.  A funeral.

Then Monday comes the good bit: A girlie road trip to Ohio with Ruth (and James, but he doesn't really count because he doesn't have the hormones yet to be man and because Ruth is his food source).  There will be much fun to be had. Also; my parents like babies.

September

What a weird September.

At work:

A friend of mine who is professionally competent and beloved of his underlings gets a crappy review and is asked to step down and be just a regular Joe Schmo. He is fine with this until he is told he is going to get a pay cut of anywhere from $2 to $3.  Come again?  Did I mention how much the customers love this guy?  No?  Well, he is constantly getting positive email from customers who know him by sight and by name.  Why the demotion?  He isn't a horrible boss and has never written up anyone.  Why hasn't he? He doesn't need to write anyone up.  We just naturally have his back and do as he asks, because he's a good guy.

Then, he decides he'll step down.  After his decision is made, THEN he is told "well, we don't have room on the payroll for this many full time employees."  What? Gee, witholding valuable information from the employee making the decision...that sounds ethical.

Also, for a company who prides itself on ethics...why hire in a full time employee in a management position all the while knowing there was no money in payroll for such a thing?  Because the puppet master knew he was going to demote someone and ask them to leave.

The puppet master is also leaving. I don't care anymore. I thought I would, but now, seeing exactly how sneaking, manipulative and UNETHICAL he can be, I don't give a flying fuck.  I wish I could prove to HR just how unethical this entire situation really is...why can't I?  Because I'm not supposed to know any of it or my job would be in jeopardy. 

Why so secretive?  Because for a company who prides itself on its ethics, there are none.  Wouldn't it be awful for all the people who love to shop at the store to find out how ruthless, unethical, and Nazi-like the corporation really is? 

Maybe I'll get a less greedy, sneaking manager. I've had two of those before.  Or maybe I just need to go back to the nowhere of America where people aren't just out to see if they can go back to "fix" an old store for an $100,000 a year pay raise.

Guess what my raise, by the way, I was lucky to get a raise-- was?  29 cents an hour.  I will almost earn $9.25 an hour.

What the hell is your annual salary oh Puppet Master? 

And then.....

A friend of mine had a barn burn down.  He has burns on his hands and face from trying to rescue horses from the barn.  One didn't make it.  His house almost caught on fire.  He is apparently off (on vacation!) this week but is expected to miss another week of work so the burns can heal. 

Jon was so sickened to hear this that he immediately went into rescue mode.  He put his prized Fender up for sale so we could donate the proceeds to our friend.  As far as I was concerned, he'd never want to sell that thing.

My cousin's man, Denny, wants it.  I have given them Jon's phone number in case he can think of any questions to ask because there are a multitude of things I don't know about guitars.  I really don't want buyer's remorse to be in my family life.  There are lots of things about this, money transfer (we're thinking pay pal) and then shipping. We live in Michigan, they live in southern Ohio...as Southern as you can get, Cincinnati.  We'll ship it if they'd like, but I also offered to drive it to my parent's house (also a 5 hour drive for someone from Cincinnati)  if they'd like. 

We'll see. I'd like to help Tim.  He has always been good to me.

And also....

Jon has not been dealing with his grandmother's death at all, I don't think. He says he's fine. I still don't think he's fine.  He's been going off the deep end about not being able to do enough to help Tim, and about how horrible things are happening to such good people.  I wish I could help him.  Death and I are well-acquainted.  But everyone has to come to their own terms with death.

This is the first death of someone who was close to Jon.

I don't know how this will go.

Four years ago I couldn't walk past the open casket of my dad's mother and the stupid undertakers didn't like that I just couldn't and that I wouldn't.  I'd had to stare at her body for over an hour during the service and for some reason I just couldn't walk up there.  The undertakers looked disgruntled and I just burst into tears and Jon shuffled me outside and away.  Not that anyone in my family thought any the worse of me for it...I just couldn't follow the stupid funeral home protocol...so I broke their fascade of conformity.

There is no conformity in death. Each death is different, personal.  The ordered formal bits of the service did not comfort me nor did the prayers the preacher offered...they sounded hollow and empty...because nothing of them was my Grandmother.  She was not formal and she was not conformist.

So I don't know what Jon will take away from the ceremony.  I will never really know.  Just as he'll never know what I've taken from the funerals I've attended.

 Here's hoping for a much much better October.

Fairy Grandmother

A firecracker faded away yesterday.  An original Rosie the Riveter from Detroit. Not many of those left, I don't imagine.  One tough lady, an original character. I only knew her for four years, but she immediately welcomed me into her home and her family.

Jon told me later that this was not always so, and that he was surprised she liked me on sight.  That she usually didn't like any of the boyfriends/girlfriends/friends that anyone in the family brought home. But, she liked me. I was flattered.

She got cranky in the last year.  Can't blame her.  Thanksgiving last year wasn't very enjoyable. But, I really couldn't blame her, because she really didn't want to host.  The rest of the family seemed to think Thanksgiving just wouldn't be right if it wasn't at Grandma Helen's little house (and hey, I bet they were right).  It was just too much work for her.  She didn't do any of the cooking, but she sure ordered people to and fro if what they were doing weren't up to her standards.  The food was tasty.

Grandma Helen became my adopted Grandma. The one grandmother I was close to, died early in Jon and I's relationship.  I still had one living grandmother but it was one of those weird relationships that was strained since I never could figure out  why she'd put up with my grandfather (who was never an awesome person and was a mean, mean drunk once upon a time) so I could never really respect her.  So I adopted Grandma Helen.  Then my remaining grandmother died and she was the only grandma left.

I am now grandmotherless.  I know, I know, I am 35 and most people don't still have grandma's at my age, and some no longer have parents.  There is just something that always captured my imagination about Fairy Godmothers...something magical.  (I didn't know what a godmother was and didn't have one anyway so I imagined a godmother as a fairytale grandmother; besides -- Grandma DeWitt WAS a Fairy Grandmother...loved kids made all kinds of interesting magic happen when we were at her tiny trailer.)

So I was sad when Jon texted me from the hospital telling me she was gone.  Then, I told him I was sorry and that she was a force of nature, a tough lady.  And he texted back: "just like you."  Then I cried and asked if he was okay. He replied that he was, but I knew  better.

He's not okay.  No one in her family is okay today.  He wouldn't let me go with him to check on his folks. I didn't argue. I probably should have argued.  But, some people are really private in grief...and I can respect that.  I have no idea how my father in law is taking it, badly, I suspect.  The man is a mystery to me, but he has a big heart.  So if Jon thinks it best that I not go along, well, then, its his family he's known them longer than I have.

We miss you Grandma Helen.

I wish I had a photo of her from WWII doing her thing...and someone actually might...but, it can't be much different than this one.

Stranger Danger

Sometimes, as I watch Emma freak out when she sees the mail person walking up and down the opposite side of the street delivering mail, drool flying from her mouth as she barks, and, once the mail person changes to our side of the street and nears the house and Emma's agitation and fierceness increases to the point of her seeming to want to lunge outside; just what Emma would do if actually personally confronted with the mail person.

I think she would run away, and keep fiercely barking and drooling.

It's a fairly annoying bit of our daily routine. Nothing helps.

And, since, we live where we do, I guess I haven't looked seriously into preventing her from getting so worked up about strangers. I want people to be afraid to come into my house.

People who know Emma, know she is enormously afraid of people who are new. It took her weeks to get used to Levon, a month to get used to Dave, and she never has made up to Shane. I suspect because he usually refuses to come over and visit, and also because he makes lots of quick, loud movements that she views as threatening.

So, until she gets over her fear of strangers; which I figure as never, I'll just have to continue to see her foaming and spitting as she barks when strangers walk past the house.

And now for the lazy portion of our day

It's....a day off....well, kinda.

I mean, no random crazy assholes...but I've worked hard since I've been up. Well, until now. Now, I'm relaxing.

First, I went to the bunny room.  I cleaned the bunny litter, and since Vincent has discovered a new hobby/compulsion, decided to start taking up the carpet in there.  His new compulsion involves digging at random bits of carpet and rendering them bald, and also chewing on any raw edges he makes.  This was pretty simple,  at least it is so far.  I just pried up the tack strips on two sides of the room (it's a tiny room) and pulled out any staples/nails with the pliers. Granted, I haven't gotten all the way around, and I haven't rolled up much carpet, but its a start.

Jon wasn't amused with this new development until I told him the carpet was ruined anyway. He then offered to help, and get it done with, but its something I can work on in the mornings sometimes before work and on days I'm off and Jon is working. It shouldn't take too long.

I do need to put some foam in the gaps where the carpet tucks under the baseboards and then seal them with silicone so that things don't end up  where I don't want them and I can sweep up bunny messes easily with a broom. Such as random poo pellets and bits of hay and litter.

I did a load of the never-ending laundry. I swear I think it breeds while I am asleep.

I mowed our lawn.

I mowed the in-laws lawn.

And now I am relaxing because I am tired from all those things.

I still need to wash dishes and vacuum but am fairly certain I will do neither of those things today.

Then I am off Tuesday and will go on the prowl with Ruth. That sounds more fun.

I am also contemplating just kidnapping Ruth and James and going on some sort of short road trip to....my parent's house....or anywhere, for that matter. Sounds fun.

Zip Trip

Sunday we left on a virtually unplanned trip to see my parents. By unplanned, I mean we decided at 9 am and by noon we were on our way.  We went a different route, avoiding the Ohio Turnpike altogether and also the city of Norwalk...on a route that wasn't as speedy but more entertaining. The town of Clyde was visually interesting. They have an actual diner car there and an ice cream parlor shaped like a soft serve cone.  So if anyone is heading toward Norwalk from Toledo, I'd recommend US 20 East.  Its a bit slower, but there are more farms, more interesting things, and once the construction clears up, it will be two lanes headed East, two lanes headed West. 

                I couldn't find a better photo.  The diner actually looks more 30s than it does here.
                Guess I should have made Jon pull over so I could whip out my camera.

                                                                        Yum!
                      
We didn't do much in Ohio since we only had time to stay the night then drive back.  We did manage to eat at the Mexican place we love.  The pizza place was closed because the town of Killbuck was having the annual Early American Days festival, which strikes me as odd. I think they'd do a grand amount of business during a festival, but maybe I'm wrong.
                                                    

                                                                   More Yum!

I scratched and made over my old pal Bean.  The dogs romped outside and went on a walk. Emma found a spine of a dead thing and decided it made for an awesome object to roll on top of and carry about.  She didn't get too stinky, so I assume it had been dead a long, long time.  Emma also wasn't shy of my parents this visit. No barking at them when she first sighted them.

My dad waited until my mom hit the showers after a very muggy walk to tell me that she'd had another episode where her heart decides to pitter patter along at 200 beats per minute and that the pill they'd given her for such an occurrence didn't do its job so they ended a walk last Friday in the emergency room.  Mom didn't want anyone to know.  But my Aunt Maxine had been staying there for a visit, so she knew.  And NO ONE told me.  I mean, I know my mom has been off work for quite a while because she has had both her hands operated on because of carpal tunnel, so I guess it would have been difficult for dad to call without her knowledge, but still.

So now I know why all the weird, mixed up dreams/ nightmares about home last Friday night.

My mom has finally agreed to see a specialist, dad says. I told him to make sure to call me if anything happens, because I know I can get some kind of paid leave for a family emergency.  He said he would. 

We had a nice lunch yesterday. My dad cooked hamburgers on the grill and we ate sweet corn, tomatoes, and all kinds of good garden food.  My dad's garden, he says, has done the worst ever this year. Not too surprising because of all the 100 degree temperatures and the scant amount of rain.  So they've been wanting to can tomatoes and having problems with rot, and in general even getting enough tomatoes to can.

Then we were on our way back home.  Traffic was crap, but then, that's what we get for picking a national holiday to travel. Gas was 20 cents cheaper in all those tiny little Ohio towns.  I guess Michigan is just price gouging.  Usually the little places charge more. We did travel on the Turnpike on the way back. Didn't know which way would be better with the holiday traffic. And we went through Norwalk, OH, which is a pretty cool town, actually. So if anyone happens to be traveling on US 250 heading west you will see this:

                                The buildings in Norwalk are amazing and old.

And that leaves us with planning our next trip.  We are thinking of traveling to Jon's Family's cabin in the U.P. somewhere the first week in October. He doesn't have any vacation coming, but we'll see what his boss says.  Sounds fun if we can manage it, though.

The Nazis Tell me I Must Not Post This

A message appeared in the break room at work the other day. No blogging or using Facebook or any other kind of social media mentioning anything at all negative about Tractor Supply Company. How interesting.

Just for the Corporate Nazis in Power:
Most of these sound just about right

Some of the complaints are completely grounded in folly...such as the 10% button on the register "doesn't work" or that anyone from TSC would ever approve a school selling a discount card with the TSC logo on it (they are very very wildly protective of the corporate logo as if it is some Holy Baby Jesus or something).  There is no 10% button on the register. It's a computer keyboard and the register consists of an IBM mainframe with monitors.  Also, TSC is very, very clear on the fact that employees are NOT to discount items unless they have clear instructions from a manager.  There is no such thing as senior discounts, military discounts or discounts of any kind other than coupons which are sent directly from the corporate office in TN or manufacturer's coupons. Period. Other than employee discounts, and even the employees get shit for it. Spend more than $50?  A manager has to ring up the order to make sure you are not hiding/stealing any items other than the ones for which you have paid. Yep.

So read with a grain of salt.

And some more

Sorry TSC, you do NOT have the right to implement a gag order against bad press from ME.  I am not saying anything that is not the truth.  Want to change the truth? Great! Become a progressive, caring company.  The ball is really in your court here.

We often work shifts with only two people. Truth. I complained about this to my Asst Manager. I hope she can convince the Manager that this is unacceptable considering those two people bore the brunt of the busiest hour of the day with over $1000 in sales, meaning customer service, loading product, handling cash and phone calls. This, is nearly impossible.  I think corporate would benefit hearing it and that we shouldn't "beef up" staff whenever the District Manager is around. Guess what, we do! It's all complete and total lies and a fascade that the store is always running just this way. Nope...the store never is run that way.

Last time I checked, I still live in America where free speech is supposed to be king.  If I have to piss off some Corporate Nazis because they reserve the right to tell me what I can and cannot say, then I hope they are livid. Fuck you.

I have no problem taking your money, but you can't make me keep my mouth shut.

Going on Back Home...and Elsewhere

Amish on Amish Violence Goes to Federal Court

For probably all of three people who were wondering whatever came of this bizarre story from last fall...including me.

For various reasons, the Amish believe their religion exempts them from many things that affect public safety as well, including using reflective orange triangles on their buggies so the buggies are more visible to drivers.  The entirely black buggies containing occupants wearing dark, mostly black clothing (even in summer) and pulled by dark colored (brown or black) horses are nearly impossible to see in any kind of setting that is not ideal.  Rain, snow, fog, or any kind of darkness makes them nearly impossible to see.  Any driver that makes a mistake and hits a buggy is instantly at fault...but, shouldn't the Amish be somewhat at fault for fighting all the laws that are meant to keep them safer? 

Amish Fight Buggy Laws

As someone who lived among many thousands of Amish for thirty years, I think even the orange triangle is outdated and, that at night, some sort of light source visible by vehicles traveling 55 mph  should also be mandated.  I often had to slam on my brakes and pray that I stopped once I realized that weird "alien spaceship" in the road was closer than I thought since the swinging kerosene lanterns the Amish use (if any light at all) render the judgement of distance an impossibility.  Kerosene lanterns are NOT bright enough to be seen by a car traveling a lawful speed from any distance. They just aren't.  Sorry.  Shove some LEDs on there, or....anything...would be better, even duct taping some Mag Lights to the buggy would be better.

 I no longer live amongst the Amish, but prefer them to ghetto trash.  I say we fill the empty, burnt out dregs of Detroit with Amish and see if they don't improve the mix. I bet they would.  Amish pay property tax, they fix their property, they farm the land, the grow their own food, they do all kinds of things that benefit the community. I'm not trying to run them down.  For their own safety, they just need to modernize a bit on points of public safety. 

There are lots of things about them I didn't like. I didn't like their shady care of animals. I don't like their treatment and attitude towards women. That said, not all Amish are shady toward their animals, and I doubt all of them expect their women to be baby factories, its just the majority of the low order Amish that do.  Lots of other people in the world are the same way....including some rednecks. 

I'd sure prefer some reasonably quiet Amish neighbors to the guy who likes to rev his Harley Davidson nightly for no reason and people who think its their right to break into empty houses to steal copper. 

And the Shit Falls from the Sky

Well this has been a shitty night.

Jon tells me at 8 pm that he is going to a friend's house in Westland.

I finally manage to contact him at 12 am because there is a weird car parked in front of our house.  He says he won't be out too much longer.

It is now 7 am. His phone is either turned off or he doesn't want to answer it.

Seriously considered packing up the animals and driving back to Ohio.  Could have made it there since I haven't slept anyway.  The thing that stopped me was not wanting to explain anything to my parents and being a burden on them.

Jeep Quakes and Corporate Fakes

Seismic activity within the rear end of Jon's Jeep finally required help.  Many things led to this.  Firstly, Jon's giggling whilst hitting bumps on Michigan's pot-hole infested paved roads. He knows I'd yell at him for doing this in my car which has a much stiffer suspension, and does not handle bumps nearly as well.  Also the age of the Jeep and the shocks and allllllll those many 200,000 plus miles.  Basically once the seismograph graduated from funny small action shaking to---Holy Shit--What WAS That?--he had to try to avoid as many pot holes as possible.  He was nearing a 10 on the Richter Scale,  because when it got to shaking as though the entire rear end was going to give, he couldn't really control the Jeep...and this would happen, most of the time, where there was no visible pothole.

Funnily enough, I diagnosed bad shocks while it was still in the baby earthquake stage because I could think of nothing else that would make it behave this way. The mechanic agreed.  Hmmm...maybe I am in the wrong profession?  But, I do NOT however, have enough patience or aptitude with tools to become a mechanic. I get agitated and annoyed and tend to throw things around.

Ruth's Jeep is suffering from the same condition. I told her what to have fixed while riding with her the other day.  I noticed the rear end shaking, asked if the road right in that area normally did that, and noticed she applied the brake.  She said, no, its a Jeep Thing....lol. She thinks cars are magic...and to a large degree, I believe she is correct. Her Jeep is still in baby earthquake stage; but it will only get worse from there.

TSC Corporate decided our store needs to move freight day to Thursday/Friday and feed day to Tuesday. I have no idea why. So this week has been plenty screwed up at work.  Oh, yay, a backroom full of freight on a weekend. Well, corporate knows best, or so they think.  To compensate for the movement of the freight truck, we got dual trucks this week...a day apart.  I moved 5 pallets of dog food on Tuesday and 5 pallets of dog food on Thursday.  Then I had to help fill feeds on Thursday because the backroom had been so filled with freight for three days that no one had been able to replenish livestock feeds.

I also took a stupid "Town Hall" survey for TSC so they can, I don't know, clean up their act or something.  The questions were dumb, multiple choice questions with simplistic answers.  I would have preferred multiple choice with a line to explain my answer.  None of the answers seemed to apply.

"Do you feel valued by your employer?" A. Very   B. Somewhat    C. No Opinion    D. No

What do these kinds of questions really solve?  There were no lines for suggestions.  I know I would feel more valued if I were paid a liveable wage for the amount of work I do.  I moved 10 dog food pallets and probably two full pallets of livestock feed, plus answering questions, cleaning, and using the cash register.  A pallet of livestock feed weights 2,000 lbs.  A pallet of dog food can weigh more or less than 2,0000 lbs depending on the size and number of bags present.  At least 3 of the dog food pallets I worked were double pallets...meaning I should count them as 2 instead of 1 but I never do.  I do 2 to 3 times MORE work than most of the people I work with, yet I earn only about 25 cents more an hour. (Which is classified information and I am not to know the wages of my co-workers on the grounds that I could be fired.)  A company that is really striving for excellence, and is unafraid of investigations based on paying fair wages without discrimination based on race, gender, or age, would not have such a policy since there would be nothing to hide.  TSC is NOT such a company.

I believe this survey is Corporate's stupid, passive-aggressive way of trying to fool their employees into believing that they care while gathering no real information on how to improve their company. 

One day soon, customers will avoid TSC the same way they avoid WAL MART.  People shop at TSC to avoid Wal Mart, believe it or not.  I wonder if Corporate is aware of that fact?  Doubt they even care.

Blah, and I finally work toward...a day off

Things that happened to me today:

1. I got hit on by a married man WHILE his wife AND daughter were present.  I told Jason I thought I was going to have to bash this joker with a stick. Jason just said he thought the guy knew me. I said, no, that he's a regular customer, I don't know his name and I used to think he was just a pleasant  customer.  Um....no....he's a douche bag who trolls with a kid and a wife in tow.

2.  I managed to convince a man on the phone that I did, in fact know what a solenoid is, what it does, and then proceeded to look up the part number he needed, and no, we don't carry it...but he didn't yell at me in exasperation or anger that he couldn't get it instantaneously...he merely....thanked me. Nice, for a change. 

3.  I helped an old man find the correct battery, then got yelled at for not wielding a magic wand that instantly makes items tax exempt since it was for a farm tractor. The guy then decided he'd try his luck at Wal Mart.  I told the new Amber (I now work with two Ambers, a Crystal and a Christa...man, how, confusing) that he would be back as Wal Mart does not stock those sort of batteries...and laughed when he came back in to buy the battery---with tax.

4.  I was yelled at by a nasty old man named Bob who somehow believes that I can give large discounts willy-nilly because so and so gets a discount.  Um...no.  I told him he'd have to speak with Tim, because HE is the boss and it would  be between him and Tim.  I also explained that the 10 percent coupon is NOT stackable with the 5 percent discount for buying a pallet, which further enraged him.  Jason told him the same thing. He does not like Jason.  He then said to cancel his order and that he would be taking his business to the Howell location. I said, sure, cancelled the order, and THEN he bought dog food and ect from me....what the hell? I thought he was taking his business to the Howell location?!?!!!!  If I never have to see him again, I'll be thrilled. The manager at Howell is less flexible than Tim or Jason or Lorien....good luck,  you wrinkled old asshole.  Do you NOT understand that we could ALL be FIRED for doing what you want?  It's against policy and ethics.  Yeah, I WANT a 50% off get out of jail free card for all my groceries for the rest of my life...pretty damn sure that's never going to happen,  but I WANT ITTTT!!!!!! 

5. A pit bull rescue came to the store, unannounced (they usually cancel so we never expect them)  so I had to listen to Day 2 of dogs barking from the backroom...the beagles were yesterday. Jason had to tell the guy to keep the back door closed (it's an audit and shrink issue and we could, again, be fired for leaving it hang open) and he was none too pleased that Jason said to keep it shut or the rescue will be setting up in the parking lot the next time.  Sorry, you are allowed to be at our location, but you have to follow our rules...just the same as if you were staying at someone's house.


And so ends my six day straight work week. So thankful it is at an end.  I really thought about just wandering off during my shift, never to return. In a perfect world, I would be able to afford the luxury.

Child Hate

I don't like kids. I might even...hate kids.

So why is this such a controversial idea?  I assume it has something to do with the fact that I am a female and I don't have mothering instincts.  I also believe quite strongly in  natural selection.  So if your child is an idiot and is stupid enough to wander in front of a moving car, then it deserves to die. So does an adult if the adult is stupid enough to wander in front of a moving car.  

I think conservative people feel threatened when challenged with ideas that seem so far "out of the box" to them that they can't even relate to the idea.

I also don't believe in God. Any God.  Chew on that.  I happen to think that life is what you make it, and then...you die... and that's just it, you're dead. Nothing.  This is a LESS controversial issue than my dislike of children.  I find this quite puzzling. But, then, I have always been less than traditional.

Families have no more or less rights than anyone else.  Oh, you can't work at night because you have kids? Eh, well, do you want a job or don't you?  My parents worked various shifts. Why? Because they WANTED a job. Didn't matter if it was night or morning.  They wanted to be able to feed their kids.

My parents have always known I don't like kids. This does not surprise them, nor do they care.  They have always been fine with it. It's who I am.

I don't discriminate against folks with kids.

I don't torture children.

I don't go out of my way to make people with children miserable.

I just don't enjoy or like or PRETEND to like children.

I am entirely genuine.

Why is that so offensive and I quote "unprofessional?"  I only make $8.96 an hour. Want me to be more professional?  Pay me what I'm worth.  I can run the store. I can work the freight truck nearly single handedly. I believe this is worth at least $17 an hour. I can barely pay my bills. Why should I give a flying fuck about brat children that parents can't or won't control?  I am not the only person working retail who believes this. My assistant manager also believes that children should be checked at the door if they can't behave.

I have the following suggestion.  Substitute the word "cabbage" for "children."

Would these people be as offended at the statement: "I hate cabbage." Or "People who can't control their cabbage shouldn't have any.."

Stealing Copper/Amish Population

Really boring day off with me sleeping 9 hours due to menstral cramps, popping meds for the cramps, the exhaustion that goes along with it and mowing the in-laws' yard and earning $20...and being alone.  I never see Jon anymore. He's always at work...or I am.  Then Jon comes home for an hour, we eat something tasty then he informs me he's heading to his other mistress, Shane's house.  Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't really care, but hey, I've seen the man a total of one hour a day all week...and yesterday was his day off, during which he changed the oil in my engine but I saw him....maybe 5 hours all told as he was running  errands and such and talking to his mom. (I don't mind sharing him with his mom, she's going through something and I'm not sure what.)

Then I go outside once he leaves to dump some trash in the recycle bin and a guy walks over.

"Hi. I'm Jerry. Jerry's son." He indicates the nice house next door that's been empty since March. "Someone broke in and stole the plumbing out of the basement, did you see anything?"

Oh, shit. My blood just runs cold.  "No, no, I didn't.  That's awful."

We have a brief conversation in which I promise to call the cops if I see anything suspicious at all. I verified that the realtor drives a blue GMC SUV and that the kid that mows the lawn has a white glass repair van. I already knew that this Jerry is driving his dad's special black Caddy we nicknamed the Batmobile before he died.  That old man was soooo excited to get that car, he acted like a ten year old and it has so many gadgets on it (Old Jerry explained them to us in great detail) that it really was the Batmobile, at least to us poor folk.

I come back inside and phone Jon.

He HAS seen something over there.  Two guys in an escort messing with the central air.  I keep him on the line and hand him to Jerry. They talk.

And I am alone again. Waiting for Jon to come home.  I don't feel safe here.  A few months ago the neighbor girl's car was stolen.  Now, the other neighbor's plumbing a/c and furnace coils have been stolen...probably, all while we were home.  And we are the house in the middle.  I've always thought we have nothing really worth stealing.  But, then, we do have plumbing, cars, and a furnace.  And we'd be crippled if any of those things went missing or broken.

I want out of this neighborhood.  No down payment, no nothing.  And probably no one would want to buy this crap shack with its shaky plumbing and other issues--most of them less serious.  Plus, we'd have to sell it to be able to move elsewhere....leaving it vulnerable to break-ins. 

Sigh. I hate being ghetto adjacent.  Three years ago, we weren't ghetto adjacent.  Now, however, we are.

This sounds better.

I want to go back to my roots.  Funny, Jon prefers my roots even those these urban roots are his.  He'd rather live with the cornfields and the cows than the people.

Too many people, too much anonymity.  I lived in a very small community. When someone was robbed, there was an 80 percent chance someone recognized the culprit.  Why?  Because to know where we lived and to know our habits, you had to frequent the area.  And country people don't miss too much. They know each other's cars, work habits and just patterns in general.  When someone suspected something wrong, you'd get a direct phone call or a visit...and that neighbor would be toting some sort of firearm--just in case.  Why? Because it the sheriff managed to find the address--an hour later (it would take about that long for them to drive there)  it would be too late to do much good. 

My family unfortunately had some experience with the county sheriff taking forever and my dad arming himself and me with various guns while we were waiting and the culprits were running about the area near our house after wrecking their truck into the ditch next to our driveway.  Scary shit.  All while the corn was 10 feet tall..impossible to know where the bad guys were. Of course, they got away, but dad wasn't leaving us unarmed either.

Maybe I'll get really lucky and a cyclone will transport my house and its contents safely to a rather uninhabited area just like the Land of Oz.


Unrelated side note from back home:  Amish in the U.S. 
For the uninitiated, a "large" family for the Amish is at least 5 children...usually more like 8.  But, hey, for all their inhumane treatment of their own family members, animals, and such, I never once caught any of them stealing copper plumbing. They DO commit crimes, mostly against each other.  Weird, but true.

 I'd still like to introduce a bunch of Amish into Detroit and see if they could turn the city into a big desolate farm. I really think they could. And I really think it would be an improvement.  Maybe it would be a public service: Amish in Da Hood!

When Good People go Ga-Ga

Picture this, quirky, usually fairly rational people in a room, you've known three of them most of your life, and one for about five years. Enter a baby, four months old, drooling, cranky, stubborn and refusing to sleep because there are too many people to stare at.  See the usually rational people suddenly not be able to carry on an adult conversation without suddenly lapsing into "ah, poor thing!" As if there were something wrong with the perfectly healthy baby other than she is sleepy.  It makes for heaps of weird.

 This happened to me when I went to visit my parents, who are, first time grandparents because I would rather perform a self-hysterectomy than have a screaming, pooping. drooling little drunk person in my house at all times.  My brother was perhaps the most logical of the bunch.  My sister in law has completely lost her mind.  Staring at the kid with bug-eyes and talking to it as though she were "singing" along to a death metal song. I use the term "singing" quite loosely.  Death metal is all about gutteral devil-sounding voices.

It was as though I'd fallen through the looking glass.

My dog, Emma, was quite terrified of the voice that made the baby laugh. I am quite sure that this baby is going to think people talking happily will be the worst thing ever--or that its mother is secretly professional wrestler John Cena...I don't know how to spell his name and I don't particularly care.

Just when I thought things couldn't become MORE weird, I came back from a bathroom break to discover the conversation had turned to my sister in law wanting to get the baby's ears pierced.  What if she doesn't want her ears pierced?  At least let her get old enough to decide on her own.  My brother was particularly angry looking about the announcement.  Apparently this had not been discussed before. Hopefully he can be the voice of reason and stop this nonsense.

I really don't want my niece being included in an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras. 

Maybe next time I go visit my parents, we'll be discussing the merits of tramp stamps for toddlers.

Otherwise, it was a nice trip home.  The dogs had happy run time and we got to get stuffed on Mom's cooking, and the local Mexican restaurant, which we miss.  We didn't get to eat at our favorite pizza shop because it doesn't open on Mondays and it doesn't usually open until 4 pm and we needed to be heading back by then.

Jon started his new job at General Bearing yesterday.  It's five miles from our house, which is good since he is driving that big V6...so not only will he be making more money, we will  be spending less on gas.  He says that his job is easy, could get boring, but that his employers were treating him as an actual person!!!! Never got that at Burger King.  I know I much prefer the smell of his clothes.  They just smell like grease, oil, and metal lubricant.  Much much better than old burgers, stale fries and ass sweat.  All in all, he had no real complaints yet. I'm sure that will change but since he is getting lots of overtime and steady hours that should help outweigh whatever the complaints will be.

And More Idiots Came out of Nowhere

Ever hear of returning a defective item bought from a store, with no receipt and NO defective item? Yes, this happened.  The customer was incredibly irate when the assistant manager and I told her this was just not possible.  She threw a fit and called us to ask for the corporate phone number to file a complaint. Corporate must have told her it was company policy and that what she was asking was not possible because we received no email of doom from corporate telling us just how this customer's ass must be kissed.

                                               Usually, its much like this:

I also witnessed the largest camel toe I have ever seen.  My friend Jason's face turned green when this lady walked into the store and I decided I didn't need to notice anything. Ignorance is, sometimes, bliss.  A snickering Brandon then told me it was a sight not to be missed....so I looked. Erm, wow, I thought about taking the woman to the full length mirror in the dressing room and asking if she saw what the rest of us were seeing.


It looked a lot like the Mariah Carey image on the right....except this woman was 80 pounds heavier.  Jason said it was almost like he could do a gynecological exam without the woman needing to disrobe.  This led to much snickering.


                                                   Wanted: full length mirror

 This is pretty gross. It belongs on People of Wal Mart. I guess no matter how many stylists, hangers-on, and money you acquire, all of them are afraid to say "Hey, Mariah, you have camel toe!"


Today was Friday the 13th. I didn't even realize that until about an hour ago. I am not superstitious, but it was a day filled with crazies. 

 Minor crazies ask questions and expect me to know all about a certain weed killer and have apparently become illiterate the moment they step inside the store and for some reason think they need me to explain the merits of Roundup in some bizarre boring adult story time. Mixing instructions are on the label and its actually quite a thick booklet.


             "And then Roundup killed everything it came in contact with. THE END."