I cant stop reading this

So a couple of years ago I started reading Sluggy Freelance and fell in love with it. It wasn’t a love at first sight thing by any means. I just couldn’t get that first set of strips out of my head and finally decided to sit down and read the damned thing. This was around September of 2007. I finally finished the archives and caught up during this storyline (at which point I promptly stopped reading). That was a lot of reading.

And a lot of inspiration. Not for stories, unfortunately, although I don’t think anyone can beat Abrams’ imagination. But it makes me want to draw. Drawing has always been something I enjoy, but it’s always been something I’ve had to work at, and no one has ever supported me in it. Ever.

With music I have talent. I’m not the best musician, but if you throw an instrument at me, I can play it. I’m the same way with writing essays and mechanics. There are just certain things certain people have a knack for. Those are my things.

So why not just go forth and do one of those things I have a knack for? Because that would be easy, and I don’t like easy. I mean, yeah, the slut at the bar makes for a great one night stand, but do you really want a relationship with someone who puts out that fast?  Who else has she been with?  Do you really feel you can have a worthwhile relationship with that person?  What makes that relationship so worthwhile is the work you both put into it, not how fast you nailed it.

So I’ve decided to actually put in the work. I’ve started drawing everyday. I’m getting better but I’m nowhere near showing anything I’ve done yet to anybody.

But someday, I’ll have my story published, somewhere, with pretty pictures and action scenes, and someone will be entertained.  And that’s what makes it all worth while.

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So, about that whole “compulsion” thing…

So, about a year ago, I was looking for a way to blow some cash specific book at Borders, picked it up, picked up a few others, and then went to check out.  Well, you know how The Evil Marketing Directors like to put “impulse buy” racks near the counters?  They also put pretty books there, and I happened to pick one up and read the back, fell in love with it, found out it was the second in a trilogy, and bought all three.  After I read the books I originally intended to purchase, I cracked open the first one and didn’t sleep until I finished the third one.  (Note:  They really are that good.  Read them, NOW!)  One of my coworkers, however, said that I had this “compulsion” to read things until I finished them.  I couldn’t sleep unless I finished the book I was reading.  That’s how I read the first four Ender novels so fast: I didn’t sleep.

A few days ago I was wanting to read some new web comics after finishing the xkcd archives, and did a quick Google.  I came across this glorious comic and went to the archives.  It looked familiar and I read two strips before I thought, “Nah, the art’s all hella crappy, I don’t wanna read it” but then realized I thought the same thing a few years ago and the homepage didn’t have art that looked like that.  So I kept reading.  I was hooked at strip #3 and just kept reading.  It was well worth it.  But then tonight I came across the horrid realization, after discovering there were no more to read, that I had just read 1655 strips of ONE comic without stopping.

Seriously, someone get me some Ativan, stat!

SOOOO tired, but must bloggy

So this new store…yeah…see, people, if I wanted to smell like a bartender, I would be a bartender.  But, alas, I am not a bartender, and yet I leave work smelling of cheap beer, cigarettes, and pot.  The people are polite, though.  No arguments about sandwiches not being fresh, no complaints about Subway (since we don’t have one)…

Really, we don’t even have a hose for the mop sink, y’all! And the ice down (that thing where beer is kept on ice, seriously, I have to explain EVERYTHING to you people, gah!) doesn’t even drain.  Nope, it has a valve and we put the mop bucket under it and oh G-D somebody shoot me now!

Other than that it’s not really too bad.  It would be like if I worked in my neighborhood…which I don’t…for a reason…

Then there’s “creepy-seemingly-homeless-guy” who you can’t tell is drunk or just that crazy.  Other than seeming crazy, he didn’t appear intoxicated…  Really, he reminds me of 90% of the homeless guys in downtown Savannah.  I was waiting for him to break out his trumpet and start playing for tips…or make a palm frond rose and try to sell them.

And then the “crweens” came in.

Crweens: noun

1) Creepy Tweens/Teens

These two girls, one covered in tattoos and looking ~20 years old, the other looked about 14, stand by the door closest to my register and the one in tattoos starts going off about how the other one (the true crween) thinks I’m just “sooooo cute, and, like, are you single, cuz she needs a boyfriend” and I ignored them in favor of the customer I was doing business with.  Then they walk up and are all “OMG yer hot, you should, like, totally take her out” and I was all “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that” and the one with the tattoos just runs out the door and the other girl seemed completely mortified and couldn’t remember her pin number and then just ran out the door a few minutes later.  It was funny.  Now, if the blonde had actually been around my age and hot, this whole thing would have gone completely differently and, hopefully, rather Skinamax-ely, but, meh, I’m not picky.  Although that extremely hot bear from my old store…yeah…I need to go now, it’s hard to type and…yeah….

Tired and cranky and OMG KITTY!

I really wish that kitty joke was a euphemism but, alas, it is not. I almost hit a cat on my way home last night and a possum Friday night and was almost attacked by deer Wednesday night and I’m really beginning to think Texas wildlife is trying to kill me and I kind of think it’s because I don’t spend nearly enough time with them so I am seriously thinking of hiking sometime today but it depends on whether I can get my lazy ass out of bed or not at some point in the near future if things all go according to plan, which they likely won’t.

How’s that for an introductory sentence, eh? I’m also seriously considering sending off my phone, but I feel so bad placing it in the iBox. It’s been so good to me and I already feel so awful for having shattered its screen even though it obviously loves me and accepts all my faults since I’ve been able to write my blog posts and tweet and such from it. It’s like the perfect girlfriend I have yet to find, softly whispering to me, “It’s okay, honey, I love you even though you’re a total basket case and have the emotional IQ of a 6-year-old and the social skills of a Pontiac and the energy level of a three-toed sloth”. I wish my iPhone were a real girl.

Dammit! Where’s that magical fairy goddess lady and her cricket when I need them?

Holy shit I MUST meat these people!

So I had this insane craving for a great burger on Wednesday. The only place I know that’s still open and has great burgers and isn’t some corporate shittrap closed before I could get there and I got stuck eating at McDeath’s. The good part of this story is that, through my amazing powers of Google Fu I discovered AN ENTIRE BLOG DEDICATED TO BURGERS IN SAN ANTONIO! I MUST meet this cult of meat worshippers and partake in their activities of meat worship! It is now my newest life’s goal!

My prior life’s goal was to successfully become vegan. Yes, I realize that does not make sense, but what about me actually does make sense?

And, whoa, I finally met this guy I’ve been talking to for almost two years, yet hadn’t actually met in person. It totally sucks how life gets in the way of things sometimes, but it finally happened. The really odd part is it turns out he lives on the street behind me.

It was kind of like that time I met a chick in Savannah, Ga after living there for only a few months who was from Texas. The entire conversation went something like this:

Me:  So you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

Her:  I’m not, I’m staying at the hotel next door for the time being.

Me:  So where are you from?

Her:  Texas.

Me:  Heh, how tired are you of people asking about your pet horse and why you’re not wearing your hat and spurs?

Her:  OMG!  I can’t stand you people with that!  Texas isn’t like that at all!

Me:  I know, I grew up in San Antonio.

Her:  No way, so did I!  I’m from the North West side.

Me:  Really?  So am I!  I lived in [insert name of neighborhood here]

Her:  Really?!?  I lived on [insert street name in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Me:  No shit!  I lived on [insert name of street behind aforementioned street in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Her:  I was [imaginary house number]

Me:  Holy crap, you lived behind me!  What’s your name?

Her: I’m [insert name of childhood friend’s sister]

Me:  Holy crap, I was friends with your brother!

Then I met a whole slew of people over the next couple of years who all lived around me and/or went to school with me.  I always thought the idea behind moving far away from where you grew up was to escape the people you knew before.  And now that I’m back in SATown, I’ve run in to bunches of people I was in extremely close proximity to in Savannah, one lady even shopped in the grocery store where I worked and we HAD AN ENTIRE CONVERSATION YEARS AGO!  How creepy is that?

So I guess it really is a small world after all!

Why can’t I get the cool jobs? It’s all Target’s fault!

All I want is an awesome job that gives me awesome things to write about for you awesome people who read my blog.  But can I?  No.  Why?  Ask Target.

See, there’s this guy who spent 24 hours in Wal-Mart and then wrote, not one, but two entries to Zug about his stay at The Mart of Wal, and can I do anything like that for you guys to enjoy?  NO!  Why?  Because Target isn’t cool enough to be open 24 hours, and when I tried to apply, they told me they “didn’t have any positions open at the current time”.  Well, you know what, Target?  Your mom had plenty of positions open for me last night and I didn’t hear her complaining.  Yeah, that’s right, I said it.  YOUR MOM’S A WHORE, Target, and I’m gonna prove it to the world!  That’s the real reason you aren’t open 24 hours, isn’t it?  Because you gotta be your mom’s pimp.

No wonder you charge so much for your store brand products.

That’s it, I’m boycotting Target, at least until they start actually offering good-looking prostitutes in their clearance aisle.  Who’s with me?

What had Happened Was

HAPPY 420 ALL YOU POT HEADS OF THE WORLD!

On Sunday, it was rather “blah”.  That is to say, it wasn’t really busy (at all…read: 5 customers every 30 minutes) so I wasn’t really expecting much excitement.  That is until Pube Boy came in.  He’s this tall, lanky kid about as big around as a pencil.  One of those guys who wears those huge chick sunglasses and has really long hair and, unfortunately for me, wears chicks pants.  Why do I say unfortunately for me?  Because his low-rise pants rose so low his pubes were sticking out the top.  Why he thought that looked good, I don’t know.

I thought I was never going to recover from the horrors that were his pubes when, shortly after, Middle Aged Princess pranced in.  She wandered around the store as customers are wont to do, all the while talking, rather loudly, into her cell phone.  Not out of the norm, really.  Until she got in line.  Then she started to get slightly more irritated at the person she was speaking with.  Turns out one of her friends was trying to set her up on a blind date.  The conversation on her end went something like this:

No, I don’t want you to set me up………I know I’m not going to like him……..Yes, I trust your judgement……..No, I’m not saying you have bad taste in men…..Look, he’s just not going to be good enough……UGH!  You’re not listening to me!…….Really, just…just stop, already…..NO ONE YOU FIND ME IS GOING TO BE GOOD ENOUGH!……BECAUSE!…..LOOK!…..Would you just shut up already…..He’s not going to love me enough, ever!…..Because he can’t love me like Edward Cullen…..Yes!…..No!….IF HE CAN’T LOVE ME LIKE EDWARD LOVED BELLA THEN I DON’T WANT HIM!

And then she left my store.  Also, I did end up laughing in her face because, I’m sorry, when you’re in your 40’s you shouldn’t be expecting a fairy tale creepy sparkly stalker to sweep you off your feet.

So, other than that, I’m not really in a good place.  I just came out of this horrid depression I dropped into and almost reached a state of sanity (people like me have a tendency to overshoot sanity and hit another extreme, but that’s a completely different post for a completely different day) when the world, again, came crashing down upon me.

Without talking about it too much since I might take things further, let’s just say I’m not getting the promotion I was all excited for and I’m about ready to quit.  The guy I seem to be the only one in the store standing up for decided to push all the right buttons the other day and I, being the hot-headed maniac I am, lashed out.  Of course, if someone told you your mama wasn’t worth your time, you’d lash out, too.  And that, in a nutshell, is what happened.  Thankfully I was able to hold back before things got physical and I wound up in jail.  Not a fun place to be.  Not that I’d know.  I’ve never been.  Really.  STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!

So we had a meeting with boss’s boss today that went completely not the way I wanted.  Of course, what ever goes the way I want it?  I can’t even pee in a straight line (thankfully the bathroom has carpet) so I don’t know why I was expecting any different.  But I did call out my boss on something that’s been bothering me, and that…well…let’s just say the entire conversation left a lot to be desired, and leave it at that.

But, alas, life goes on.  Maybe I just need to celebrate the holiday that is today.  I mean, really, who doesn’t like Pineapple Upside-Down cake?