(no subject)
Basically, all of you should just skip this entry and move onto the next one.
An entry not equipped with prom pictures deserves such inattentive cruelty.
I finally reached register status at Limited Too. All this epic moment really means that I get to count 498 pennies with autistic boys buying clearance anklets for their girlfriends, only to find that they were two pennies short. Really, I consider it a privilege for my face to receive threats to be broken from piroshki drenched Russian hot mamas because our company discounted prices are simply NOT good enough to dress their respective baby prostitutes in training (B-PIT, as an adoring code name) tube top/skort sporting daughters. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
Korean mothers scare me. Especially in groups. Especially their hair, coiffed with an at home generic perm/color kit, having a dance party with their also brilliant fanny packs. Especially with their slightly discolored Old Navy shirts tucked into their almost spandex slacks. Especially when they "talk" to each other in ungodly decibels unknown to human kind. Or alien kind, for that matter. Is the Korean language aurally an angry sounding language? They also come into Limited Too in packs. Their children are always frightened of me. There is always an almost obligatory pause after I greet them. It's almost like a duel scene in a classic Western movie. And life continues when they, in loud Korean, wonder if I have a Caucasian man for a Papa. Oh well, they still take too many napkins at restaurants. I wish my parents would stop doing that, really. I also wish I could say that they traded their family Kimchi recipes from the Motherland with one another to complete this beautiful stereotype against my own kind. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
I always feel so stupid greeting people at work. Actually, you should just leave out the "greeting people at work" and put a period after stupid. Am I NOT obnoxious enough nosing into innocent suburban moms' that made the unfortunate decision to have kids that need to be clothed? Honestly, do any sales people really wonder "how it's going?" I wonder what exactly it is. I think that would make me sleep better at night. Note to customers: seriously, don't ignore me! Just because you don't acknowledge my presence doesn't mean that I'm NOT going to bug you in five minutes about promo deals we're probably going to cheat you out of later. We both know that I specifically asked you how IT (whatever that is) is going! I need to know your IT and if it's going at all! Le sigh.
Besides that, my life is sexcellent. Josh "Danger" Mitchell and maybe Issac want to form a dance band with me. I am so flattered. I hope they will make DDR remixes of our songs to play in almost sketchy smoke ringed bowling alleys. Oh, I took a math placement test at the U this Saturday and if they decide to send me anthrax because I failed, I'll probably be overwhelmed by the right ways of the world. I was glad to find out that my brain had not melted during this sabbatical, if you will. And you will.
Scott is coming this Tuesday. He's leaving Friday morning. Comment/call if you want to finally meet this Scandinavian dream. See, I didn't make him up!
An entry not equipped with prom pictures deserves such inattentive cruelty.
I finally reached register status at Limited Too. All this epic moment really means that I get to count 498 pennies with autistic boys buying clearance anklets for their girlfriends, only to find that they were two pennies short. Really, I consider it a privilege for my face to receive threats to be broken from piroshki drenched Russian hot mamas because our company discounted prices are simply NOT good enough to dress their respective baby prostitutes in training (B-PIT, as an adoring code name) tube top/skort sporting daughters. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
Korean mothers scare me. Especially in groups. Especially their hair, coiffed with an at home generic perm/color kit, having a dance party with their also brilliant fanny packs. Especially with their slightly discolored Old Navy shirts tucked into their almost spandex slacks. Especially when they "talk" to each other in ungodly decibels unknown to human kind. Or alien kind, for that matter. Is the Korean language aurally an angry sounding language? They also come into Limited Too in packs. Their children are always frightened of me. There is always an almost obligatory pause after I greet them. It's almost like a duel scene in a classic Western movie. And life continues when they, in loud Korean, wonder if I have a Caucasian man for a Papa. Oh well, they still take too many napkins at restaurants. I wish my parents would stop doing that, really. I also wish I could say that they traded their family Kimchi recipes from the Motherland with one another to complete this beautiful stereotype against my own kind. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
I always feel so stupid greeting people at work. Actually, you should just leave out the "greeting people at work" and put a period after stupid. Am I NOT obnoxious enough nosing into innocent suburban moms' that made the unfortunate decision to have kids that need to be clothed? Honestly, do any sales people really wonder "how it's going?" I wonder what exactly it is. I think that would make me sleep better at night. Note to customers: seriously, don't ignore me! Just because you don't acknowledge my presence doesn't mean that I'm NOT going to bug you in five minutes about promo deals we're probably going to cheat you out of later. We both know that I specifically asked you how IT (whatever that is) is going! I need to know your IT and if it's going at all! Le sigh.
Besides that, my life is sexcellent. Josh "Danger" Mitchell and maybe Issac want to form a dance band with me. I am so flattered. I hope they will make DDR remixes of our songs to play in almost sketchy smoke ringed bowling alleys. Oh, I took a math placement test at the U this Saturday and if they decide to send me anthrax because I failed, I'll probably be overwhelmed by the right ways of the world. I was glad to find out that my brain had not melted during this sabbatical, if you will. And you will.
Scott is coming this Tuesday. He's leaving Friday morning. Comment/call if you want to finally meet this Scandinavian dream. See, I didn't make him up!