Babies are Parasites

Since everyone in the known small universe of my existence is either still preggo, has 8 weeks to go, has recently calved, or probably wants to become preggo (strange phenomena...at least, to me) I thought I would post this.

I cannot, for various reasons, imagine anyone WANTING a thing growing inside their uterus only to rip its way out like the Aliens in the Sigourney Weaver movie,and then, following me around for the rest of my life to continue the abuse and agitation; so I decided to do a highly unscientific Google search on "babies are parasites." 

Babies are not cute, they are, quite simply, poo machines that occasionally projectile vomit curdled milk product just to mix it up.

Apparently, if you Google this term there is some rather heated debate going on at Yahoo! answers and other forums.  Who knew?  Not me. I just figured I was a lone freak.  If I were to find myself pregnant at any point in my life, I would absolutely want an abortion. I lack the mothering instincts while around human children and quite often think that natural selection should be allowed to run its course on children.  If the parent's are dumb enough NOT to watch the kid, well, hell, let it get run over by a bus, one less idiot in the world.

Because I like pictures more than words, here are a couple.

                                                             HUMAN FETUS

   

                                            TAPEWORM

To me, they are equally gross and disturbing.  So, if you are wanting to be an expectant mother...consider this first:)

The Magic Sewer Fairy was Here.

Taking a nice hot shower has got to be one of the most awesome things in the world; especially when the fear of poo ending up on the floor of the laundry room has passed.  Also, poo going away from the house is pretty awesome in itself. 

We broke down (pretty simple since our toilet became an outhouse pretty quick), rented an auger from Home Depot for $50 and did it ourselves. Imagine, less mess than professionals have made in my house...and poo going away!  I hope it stays like this for a while, though.  Stupid drain always having tree roots, lint and whatever the hell else gets stuck in there. 

I'd rather believe the plumbing is magic and water just happens and poo just goes away.  Much more simplified and easy.

I am borderline doing chores, boring, boring chores such as built-up laundry, and dishes, and surfing the net.  Should vacuum, maybe I will, later.

In other news...Jason made it back to work after his "suspension" and on the pain of being fired if he reveals the reason why.  Needless to say, he told me anyway. But, as I love this guy, I shall keep my trap shut.  I have been "elevated/punished" for  being fast at sorting freight.  I not only must sort/work dog food pallets now that they realized how quick I am at sorting pallets (my job because Jason vanished for a time) that I have now usurped his job.  Not really for the best.  My old break in my left wrist is so aggravated by all this activity on the same day that it aches almost like I've broken it again.  How do I know I haven't?  I can stand to move it and not cry all the time.  There was weather moving through so I suppose I could just be going to develop arthritis in there.  Wouldn't shock me.

A friend of mine brought a counter to our store meeting and we took bets on how many times our "fearless leader" could say "mkay" in the course of two hours.  Apparently, two hundred ninety.  No one even guessed that high.

And, then, I found this link via another friend and it makes me sad, angry and other emotions I probably haven't even had time to process yet. pigs to be slaughtered based on haircolor   Only in the state of Michigan. Read and form your own opinions.

Nasty People

A man had the nerve to ask me, rather nastily, "Don't you have any Safe Choice?" (It's a type of horse feed, for those who don't know.)  So I obliged and went searching through the back room.  Yep, we had four whole bags.  Then, the man commenced to say "How come its two dollars cheaper at the feed store at my house? Why is TSC so expensive?"  He was in such a nasty temper that I replied that I didn't know and skittered as far away from his as possible.

What he didn't realize is that had he been nicer, I would have offered to price match the feed for him. I am sick of the biggest assholes getting everything they want.  He left empty-handed.  

The other day, a rather nasty woman was hollering "HELLLOOOO! HelllOOOOO!!! Does ANYBODY work here?" in the clearance section. Yes, of course, there were loads of people working that day.  I, of course, decided to just keep doing my job, which was to sort feed pallets and talk to my pal who was visiting the store and is also a paying customer.  I figured this nasty bitch could wait until I felt damn good and ready to deal with her bullshit. And Jessica ended up dealing with her lazy ass.

If I ran the store, the following would be enforced:

1. Longer wait times for the self-important:
The squeaky wheel, in this case, will NOT get the grease.  Be polite, wait your turn, remember that you are dealing with other human beings who, in all cases, aren't earning enough money to live on.  You are not the King of Fredsylvania where when you say "Jump," we ask "how high?"  In fact, the more you squeak, protest, sigh, roll your eyes, complain, and in general become nasty...you will....have a longer wait.  What do I care what you are late for? I get paid by the hour.  Perhaps you should have planned ahead and realized that doing things take actual time.

2.  Cell phone etiquette:
 If you, are in fact, insistent on using your cell phone whilst a cashier is trying to communicate with you, that cashier shall then pull his/her own cell phone out of a pocket, dial-a-friend, discuss the complexities of his/her life in absolute dirt-under-the-fingernails detail until you cease and desist with your call. Then the cashier will also hit the "end" button and concentrate on YOU.

3.  Returns:
The return policy will be simple and short. No returns without receipt. No returns after thirty days. No returns if the product has been obviously used and ruined by you. No returns without clothing tags. No exceptions.

4. No personal checks  accepted:
This holds up the line.  Even when I explain to you that you do NOT have to fill out the check AT ALL...I have to wait on you to fill out the motherfucking thing and balance your checkbook...what the hell?  And guess, what, all the people behind you also have to wait.  Checks work like debit cards. Get a debit card or use one.  There is no "float time" anymore.  Payment is immediate.  Even better, use cash.


5.  There will be a dollar deposit on carts.
Need a cart, leave a dollar, put the cart away, get your dollar back. It's amazing how much laziness can be avoided if a surcharge is involved.  We don't have cart racks and they shouldn't be necessary.

6. The bathroom shall remain locked until a key is requested.
If you leave the bathroom a mess, you shall be required to clean the poo off the wall, the toilet, and anything else your poo has come into contact with.  If you decide to pee and spin in a circle, you will be cleaning urine off every square inch of the bathroom. And, yes, I may delegate an employee to police the bathroom.

I may think of more later. But, for now, it is nearly 2 a.m. I am tired, still cranky from work and it is cold in my house because I am stubbornly refusing to turn the furnace back on...Detroit Edison and MichCon get too much of my money as it is.  And the paychecks are both short this time.  Yay, enslavement.

Sieg Heil

What a week filled with shit-balloons.

My pal Jason got fired/forced to quit by some Corporate Nazis.  I called him to ask what happened, left message, have thus far not gotten any reply. Maybe he's too upset or maybe he's sworn to secrecy.  Yes, let's fire ALL the people who work hard and fill the store with incompetence. Seems to be the corporate creed. It's possible that I would be next on that list.  Amazing that they haven't figured out how little I care about their corporate goals and the more they force their will upon me, the less I care. 

I am now forced to close the store a few nights with a blonde uber bitch whose idea of "work" is standing at the service desk surfing the internet for whatever suits her.  She should have been the one  in the office on the chopping block.  I wonder if she set something in motion.  Wouldn't put it past her. Sieg Heil.

Also, my "store bonus" which is the largest percentage over plan I have ever seen at 60%, turned out to be a whopping $71. Bullshit.  Who's getting all that money? Certainly not anyone who actually worked hard for it and deserves it.  Thanks, once again, for fucking me over you greasy corporate bastards.   Get YOUR asses in a store, get paid $8.96 an hour and TRY to pay your bills, assholes.  It is so time for a new job.  Problem is, I think they ALL are going to be just like this one, or worse.  Makes for a nation filled with optimists, doesn't it? I've had 20% over plan bonuses that were larger.

An old friend of mine died and I had to find out about it on Facebook, which is the only reason I found out about it at all since I don't live in that state anymore.  I can just see Josh now, tall, lanky, wearing glasses, short brown hair, snickering at some jock, hanging out with his friends, which were predominantly female...we miss you already, old pal. Thirty four is fairly young, but knowing you, I imagine you led a full life.  I hope the end wasn't too difficult.

Jon may or may not get his vacation pay based on whether his district manager approves it.  What fucking bullshit. We need the money. Especially since my "bonus" seems more like "just throw them a bone and shut them up money." Some corporate rigamarole about how no one was "supposed" to be taking vacation that week. This is, of course, the first Jon has heard about vacation restrictions.

My sister in law was induced to have her baby at 5 pm on Wednesday. By 1 pm on Thursday, no luck.  So, she had a C-Section. Katie and Aleisha are both okay.  Took its toll on my brother though.  I called to talk to him and he was fighting back tears because this was such an awful process.  Wish I could have been there for him.  If something had gone horribly wrong, I'd have been driving all night to get to him. I'm glad everything is kind of okay.  I think a C section is pretty horrible though, for all the doctors treat it as a normal procedure.

My cousin also had her baby. All went well, I guess. Then, her husband was hospitalized for pneumonia. 

Ruth is still on baby watch.  I hope hers has the sense to pick a better week. The stars are out of alignment or something else I don't fully comprehend. Or nature is out of whack--80 degrees outside and its only March.  Strange weather.

Adventures in Retail

Today was an adventure in customer service.

I thought the full moon was last week, while I was on vacation and I wouldn't have to deal with all the strange, wacky and just plain weirdos that seem to find their way into the store.  I didn't count on my own seemingly amazing natural ability to attract the bizarre, the weird and the strange.  My assistant manager says I am just one brilliant weirdo magnet.

So, once Courtney had gone home for the day; I ran into quite the cast of wild characters.

Enter Snake Man.  This would be a man, wearing a tee shirt with a snake on it AND a hat with a snake body printed on the cap bit with a SNAKE HEAD sticking up--NOT PRINTED--latex or some sort of rubber material that looked like one of those flesh-like dildos--sticking up off the hat bill!  I couldn't contain myself. I had to go outside where Jess was cleaning off the lawn tractors and bring her in the witness the "glory."  I really wanted to whip out a camera phone and snap a photo to post but didn't dare.  It may have cost me my job.

Then came Dog Food Lady.  She snagged one of the large feed carts--designed for 15-25 bags of feed--because she needed a large cart for dog food, or so she said. She arrived at the register with two bags of dog food in tow.  I like to imagine she bought a Ford Super Duty 350--because she needed to haul large loads--to carry home those same two bags of dog food which would easily fit--and much, much more than that in my two door Cobalt.

Continuing the stampede of weirdos was a phone call.  I answered the phone with the traditional Nazi spiel "Thank you for calling Tractor Supply, what are you looking for today?" He replied "Well, you aren't going to like what I'm looking for." "Oh. Well, what is it?" I asked apprehensively, wondering if this was an obscene phone call despite my total recognition of the voice.  "Well," he said, "I'm looking for my .38 pistol.  It was in my vest while I was getting hay loaded into my truck. I hate to think that someone took it out of my vest."  I personally, with Cheryl, the receiver had loaded this guy. There was no gun involved, anywhere.  I wouldn't have touched him for a hundred dollar bill.  He's 70 years old, grumpy, a pain in the butt, and I had asked Cheryl to help me load him in case he gave us any trouble. He didn't. Until the phone call.   I sent the assistant manager out back and into the storage building to look for the gun. Her first reaction was "Well, I hope he knows if I find it, I have to alert the cops."  Luckily, no gun.

Then, another phone call.  A woman, this time,  looking for a water trough.  I asked her if she wanted metal or plastic. She didn't seem to care.  I asked her how many gallons of water she wanted it to hold, and this seemed to stun her.  Then she replied that she actually wanted it to plant flowers in.  I replied that we have such a thing as flower pots. Oh, no, she wanted a water trough and asked what the price ranges were. I told her $70 plus, all the way up to $140, depending on the quality, the material, and the number of gallons of water the troughs are capable of holding.   Wow, she said, that's a lot of money--I found one at a garage sale once for $5.  I think people mistakenly believe that if a farmer needs to buy something for his animals, that its inexpensive...ah, its actually the other way around. The things you NEED are the most expensive.

Tomorrow, as the story goes, is another day. Oh, hell, what's next?

Vacation---an Epically Long Telling

Vacation started out with a bummer--we were on a little something I like to call "Shane-Time." Meaning we rely on Shane to pull through--on time--with a small task; and it takes three times as long as it would take anyone else. So vacation started a day late and I was cranky about it.  I had to make phone calls and let everyone know we would be a day late.

So on Monday we packed up the Jeep because Jon seemed to think there wouldn't be enough room for all our stuff and both dogs in the car; I really don't understand this, but Jon does seem to travel a bit heavy.  I can do with  two pairs of pants and an equal number of shirts and underthings (the parents DO have a washing machine and a dryer and I know how to use these luxuries).  He borrowed a small tv from his mother, and packed his off-brand Nintendo and his cartridges, some borrowed DVDs, and the laptop.  Good, I guess, since he tends to easily become bored at my parents house because they lack the use of a television beyond VCR and DVD needs and they are technologically impaired by their stubborn refusal to learn to use a computer so they don't own one of those either.  I, and others, have offered (past and present) to teach them to no avail.

I packed the dogs, their food, lots of chew bones, dog treats, toiletries, phones with a charger, ipod with charger (4-5 hours is a long time with only the craptastic stylings of FM or AM radio and I abhor being at the mercy of station owners), the GPS (just in case), and my few clothes, Jon's lots of extra socks, and his clothes...and, finally, after writing out feeding instructions for kitties, fish, and the bunny (easiest of all!) we were off!

Emma did great in the car the first half an hour or so; realized we weren't going to see Sadie and Ruth for the usual playdate, then hyperventilated on and off the entire time.  Needless to say; she didn't have to pee much.  Doggles, in his usual laid-back style, curled up into a ball, had a nap, and at times, watched the landscape.  Doggles did have to pee.  And so did I.

I became happier once the horrid boring flatness started to roll into hills, then the hills became larger hills with deeper valleys and, windy roads, gravel roads, and YAY HOME!!!

Emma met Bean, my parents dog with much apprehension and snipped at him a couple times on the leash.  Once she decided he didn't give a jot whether she was there or not and she got to sniff him on her own terms she loved him. 

She met my dad with her usual BARK BARK BARK as he came out of the basement (in Emma's mind the basement seems to be an unsecured entrance where strangers pop out of intermittently, STRANGER DANGER!) but once Doggles and I got much attention from my Dad she decided she was jealous and allowed him to pet her.  She alternately was shy of my Dad and loved him. It depended on whether, oddly enough, he was wearing a coat, a coat AND a hat or neither.  Odd dog.

Emma met my mom the next morning with similar results (Mom works from 1:30 pm until about 1:30 am; at least for now, they've threatened with lots of layoffs again this year and she's one of the lowest on the list).  But, all in all, she decided they were okay people.

Doggles excitedly jumped to and fro and demanded all his friends pay him his much deserved attention.  He is a little Napoleon.

The dogs enjoyed lots of off-leash walkies.

Jon and I drove to the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium on a beautiful sunny 60ish day.  There were regrettably a lot of rug rats but otherwise it was an enjoyable day.  I have problems with people who believe that it is more important for their offspring to ogle the animals than it is for anyone else even though we've all paid the ticket price.

Jon and I were both jealous of the "Special People" who somehow got to go in with the elephants and the rhinos and feed them cookies...how did you get to do that? How much did that cost? And, most importantly, I WANT TO FEED A RHINO A COOKIE!!!!

And, EXCITEMENT!!!! Dad, Emma, Doggles, Bean, and I went for a walk. Emma, snagged her ear on a barb-wire fence and was covered in blood.  Stopping the bleeding was difficult. I assume she snagged the ear near a vein.  Didn't seem to cause her much pain and was more bewildered that I was trying to keep her from shaking her head and spattering it all over. As it was, we cleaned scads of blood off the aluminum siding, the screen door and the porch. 

Jon was sent to the store for styptic powder. I was hopelessly sticky with blood, sitting outside, barefoot and wet (it was raining) with a wet, bleeding dog while my dad was trying to think of ways to help.  Then Jon calls from the store and says something is wrong with the Jeep (oh, joy)  in his good-natured willingness to help he had mistakenly thought that it would help to put the Jeep in four wheel drive then drive on the wet road.  Jon had left his phone so if he got stranded wouldn't have a way to let us know.

So my dad had to drive to town to make sure Jon made it back.  Basically whatever is wrong involves the four wheel drive gear box or something. Always these things seem to happen near a weekend and repair shops are not weekend friendly. So, we didn't get it fixed and drove all over Ohio and back to Michigan. Made it just fine. Does need looking after, though. Dad seemed to think the gear boxes may be out of lubricant...he had a similar problem with his old 1979 Bronco. Don't know.

Stopped the bleeding--until the next day when Miss Emma Squirms a Lot decided she needed to roll around like a goofball on the carpet (my parents have brand new carpet and freshly painted walls) shake her head and bleed some more.  So we attached a bit of paper towel to her wound (lol its still there) and tied her out at the dog box. She was NOT impressed. And Jon sat out there with her for a long time to quiet her barking.

I got to scrub blood out of carpet with carpet cleaner (thankfully my parents had bought stain-resistant carpet) and off of the walls (Windex is remarkably up to the job).  The only other thing she managed to bleed on was a quilt that my Grandmother made and mom has assured me that it washed out (oh, I thought I was going to be in trouble...but why my mom put such a fine thing on the bed when she knew me and my messiness was on its way home, I will never know). 

We ate lots of Killbuck Pizza. Well, I ate just the toppings. Bean was well spoiled with crust.  We ate tasty Mexican food in Coshocton. Went to a thrift store in Millersburg where I bought a pair of $4 jeans. We bought three bottles of Blackberry wine from Breitenbach in Sugarcreek (where I decided I really do hate tourists, even though I suppose I am technically now one of them...but I guess I'm not really a tourist. I know the back roads, I knew which wine I wanted and we got out of that horribly crowded winery in less than five minutes).  We went to the Antique Mall in New Philadelphia, to a cheese house in Charm, laughed at an Amish man talking on a cell phone while driving a pony hitched to a sulky and dragging a huge tractor tire down the road.  Yes, weird. Yes, wildly local to that area and still hilarious. 

Visited old co-workers who are still some of my most awesome friends. How I love you, Kate.  I suspect you will never know just how much. Offering your car when Jon thought his went to shit was beyond the call of duty.  Glad I got to see you.  And Gregg...you look awesome considering the last time I was home you'd had quadruple bypass surgery and I was told you had cancer.  You are still my favorite receiver ever...you big, earring wearing Harley driving teddy bear!

Dad did force me to visit my only surviving grandparent on the grounds that Dad suspects he won't last long. But he didn't make me stay long. The old house, while far far far from clean, looked lots cleaner than I remember. Oh, well, you can't chose your family. Wish I could have liked you Grandpa, but I never have.  I was absolutely stunned to hear that you had wanted to see me when I was home for Christmas. Stunned.  You've never shown much interest in me since I've never offered to let you use me for your own ends like you do so many of the others. I saw through all that shit when I was a fairly small child.  I don't hate you. I just never liked you or what you stood for.

We had lunch with my brother and Katie, who had some news that she was being tested for preclampsia and would have to pee in a bottle all day at work and have it refrigerated.  I think she finds out the results tomorrow. She definitely didn't look good.  Her feet were swollen as wide as they are long and her face is quite puffy.  Hope all is well.

Saw my aunt Nita and Uncle Jimmy briefly.

Caught up on all the local gossip.

Breathed fresh air.

Saw total darkness.

Heard almost perfect silence.

Saw my first honeybee of the year on my mom's crocuses.

Had fun, spent too much money, and still feel it was well worth it.

And now, back to work.  On the upside, I can see my Michigan friends. 

A Cloudy Day

Spent all week answering questions about chickens for people who are idiots.  No, your daughter can't hold a baby chick, don't you see the locked gates surrounding the metal troughs?  There is quite a large risk your child will get salmonella and you will try to gain compensation by pressing charges against the store and possibly the corporation.  So, the lawyers have taken preventative measures so that they don't have to fight any probable lawsuit.  Being placed in a position because I need the money to sell chickens to people who have no idea how to care for them is against my ethics.  If you want chickens you should do your research and not buy them because your brat children who feel entitled to do as they please because you have trained them to feel entitled--whine and plead. 

Got home from work and Jon told me we are once again waiting on Shane to get off his ass to fill his end of a bargain so we can't leave for vacation on Sunday, as planned, and now must wait until Monday.  I was not happy about having to make calls.

The water pump on the Jeep finally took a dump after all week of putting antifreeze into the leaking cooling system.  So Ed was called and the part was purchased.  It is now fine.

 Jon then says that "something" was making a weird grindy, metal noise when he turned his front wheels. I said that it was highly unlikely that it was related to having a water pump replaced and he freaks out about how all I ever tell him that he is wrong.  No, I assume it IS making a noise. I just disagree that it could have anything to do with the cooling system and is more likely something such as a bearing giving out. My car did that, too. So it is a steering system issue. 

He got all huffy and took his mom's laundry back to her (her washing machine just broke, and having washed many many loads of our clothes when ours was broken we are returning the favor). When he came back, he said he drove angrily (translation: like an idiot...I am glad his car is made of metal and not plastic like mine)  the sound went away.  So whatever was grinding finally ground down or fell off. He says the Jeep is operating just fine.

So I have spent the day washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, and trying to soothe some sort of weird macho psyche who doesn't want me to "question" his logic. Bah. What bullshit. I'd so much rather have been driving to my parent's house.

I am now watching a movie about Appalachia and a lady who goes there to collect and preserve folk songs.  In this weird hill community, apparently everyone has a world-class voice. Not so, being from a small part of that region. Not so at all.