McCain

I'm going to try to get in as a copy editor at the Times Colonist. My uncle says I haven't a prayer. I try, nonetheless. Also:

I got this from John Scalzi's blog, Whatever:

John McCain: If your campaign does not stop equating Sen. Barack Obama with terrorism, questioning his patriotism and portraying Mr. Obama as “not one of us,” I accuse you of deliberately feeding the most unhinged elements of our society the red meat of hate, and therefore of potentially instigating violence… you are playing with fire, and you know it. You are unleashing the monster of American hatred and prejudice, to the peril of all of us. You are doing this in wartime. You are doing this as our economy collapses. You are doing this in a country with a history of assassinations.

This is a comment by one of McCain's former campaigners, published in the Baltimore Sun.

Strong words, but this is a time for strong words.

So,

The government decided to send me 87 bucks. Why? Haven't a clue. I suspect they're trying to bribe poor people to vote back in a government that plans to rape them up the ass as soon as the election is won. Won't work, assholes. I'm voting Liberal. But I'll keep the money, thanks.

I've just had my mind blown

By this:

Brilliant Idea For Transporting Water In Areas That Do Not have Plumbing
(Photo credits in the link)

Bangbangbang

When I'm keyed up like this I make random noises. On the computer they come out as onomatopoeia, hence the title.

So work was kinda good! It always goes better when they unchain me from the damn till and let me stock shelves or something. Think heavy lifting sucks? At least you get to move around. At least you get to pause and catch your breath. There aren't damn people wanting crap all the time. It's good.

So. Copy editing. To be a copy editor you need, quote:

- Thorough knowledge of the Internet, with the skills and imagination to deliver news in innovative ways;
- A strong knowledge of the English language, with the ability to merge various news stories and sources into compelling copy, in all formats;
- The ability to write clever headlines, succinct cutlines and snappy decks under deadline pressure, in all formats;
- Thorough knowledge of current events in Calgary and Western Canada;
- Page-building skills;
- A passion for fact-checking, nit-picking and absolute accuracy;
- A strong sense of teamwork and individual responsibility.

Dude! I can do all those things! You don't even need a degree!

Now I just have to convince them to let me try it. They'll probably want someone with experience or some of that BS. To hell with that. I am a master of the English language. I can do it.

Stop

For a moment I thought I was wise. I'm not wise. Knowing that makes everything easier somehow...

Finding BOB

OKAI EMO POST TIME AARRGH.

Yeah, so. School, whatever. Work, whatever. Life, no idea.

I mean, you go to school and take courses. For what? I still don't know. I work because I need to live. Why am I living? Don't know. So life continues. Work hard, study hard, what the hell am I doing? I need to quit my job and go dig wells. I need to get into a proper program and learn how to build rocketships. I need to stop getting drunk every weekend. Or alternately, start getting drunk way more often.

END OF EMO.

So the latest special thing Safeway is doing. Finding BOB. BOB is stuff left by customers on the Bottom Of Basket as the pass through checkout. Oftentimes the cashier doesn't see it, and the customer walks out without paying for the item. Apparently Safeway loses 10 million per year because of this. I don't really buy it, but w.e.

So to encourage cashiers to catch more of these, we're having a "Finding BOB Story contest". You write your story about finding BOB on an index card and put it into a box, and there's a draw each week. The winner gets a cheesecake or something.

An example story: "I was working on till and I checked the customers basket. There was a large bag of flour left on the bottom. I said, "Excuse me, is this your flour?' The customer said yes. I rang it in and finished the sale. The end."

It turns out I would have won this week, except my entry contained a little too much much "playing silly buggers" for the management's taste. Bleah. The thing is, the contest is so damn ghey I can't bring myself to write a BOB story without being a smartass. No cheesecake for me.

Edjamacation

Five months of summer vacation is really to much. I was starting to forget that I'm still an irresponsible child who can't do anything right and isn't expected too. I almost felt like and adult for awhile there. Dangerous thoughts. Anyway, school is back in, and I fuckin' love it. Yes, tuition, blah blah, books, blah blah, screwed up registration at Uvic, whatever. School is good. No one knows me here, and those who do, think I'm hot stuff. It is so much better than the distant memory of high school on every level.

There is the downside, of course, which will hit me as soon as I fall off this caffeine high that I've been on. I haven't worked in a few days, and realizing that I have to go back tomorrow makes me remember how much I really don't want to. I did screw up my one course at Uvic, so I think the Creative Writing thing is out the window. I really want to take ACP (that's applied communications, working in tv, radio, media, whatever) or Economics. I'm trying to figure out which one would be more likely to get me a globe trotting job the UN. I'm pretty sure one of those is definitely what I want to do though, although Computer Science has become an attractive option thanks to a really cool teacher.

All this typing has made me remember what brought me to the computer in the first place which is to do some homework. That's the third downside: school is work. Brain work. No one to make you do it, just the threat of impending failure and a life of humiliation working at Starbucks. Onward...


PS. One other thing I'm psyched about: I can make my own coffee now! I got one of these.

Burn In Hell Bitch

One of these days I will blow. On that day, I advise you stay about 20 feet away- out of range of flying objects, but close enough to film for the interwebs. It will be worth filming.

So:
I scan customer's ice cream and reusable shopping bag.

Me: "Do you have a club card?"
C: "No"

She pays.
I put ice cream in bag.

C: "Don't put that in the bag."
Me: "Huh?"
C: "Wrap it in plastic please."
Me: "O...kay..."
Me: "Why buy the bag if you're not going to use it?"
C: "If you out the ice cream in that bag it will melt and get the bag wet."
Me: "But it dries...no..?"
C: "Just wrap it in plastic!"
Me: (rolleyes)
C: "Give me one of those game cards."
(The store is running one of those silly contests with game cards, only card holders can play, she did not give me her card)
Me: (Doesn't hear, I'm deaf, yknow)

Me: "Wha...?"
C: "Give me a game card!"
Me: "No."

(Satisfaction)

C: "Why?!"
Me: "No club card." (Also, I hate you, bitch)

C: (storms out)

It is possible that I am overreacting. It is possible that I was being a little dumber than usual that day and she grew legitimately frustrated. This does not change the fact that if I ever get really angry when I've had enough coffee and am feeling energetic enough, I will do something really, really violent...lose my job, but by god, it will be worth it.

$$$$$$$$$$$

Holy cow, we're getting a raise! It's significantly lower than what the management hoped for, but what the hey. I'm out of here in a couple years anyway. It's 8.75/hr to 9.75, for me, plus .50/hr in back pay retroactively from the end of March. (Is the use of retroactively redundant? I'm not sure.

It means I'm still below the poverty line, but it's still a hell of a lot better than before. I'm going to spend the back pay on booze and clothes. I deserve it, don't you think? I spend like, 20 bucks a week on food. I live like a monk, only without the cool robes and Buddhist street cred. So yeah, this makes me pretty happy.

I still don't think 1 dollar an hour is enough of a raise, considering what a pain this job is, but my boss said something wise- "If both parties are unhappy, that's a sign of a successful contract. If one side walks away thinking, 'What a deal!' then the other side is fucked." It just remains to be seen if the corporation is unhappy too.

Headbang

Not the rock on, pounding heavy metal sort of headbang, but rather the kind where you have no other outlet for frustration, so you let it out on the walls and your forehead.



I want to go to England. I want to have a proper job and things to do at the weekends. My online friends, who started out in the same boat as me (high school and bored as hell) have now graduated. They are nuclear engineers and newspaper reporters, website designers or in school for degrees in heavy, prosperous subjects. Me, I'm still at fucking Safeway, and it's time to get the hell on with life. This has got to change...