I doubt anyone remembers the asbestos incident at Penney's I posted about back in November, and I know I haven't posted about the other crappy things that happen there on a regular basis, but today is just another example of exactly how badly we need JCPenney to admit we need a new store building.

Giant holes in the ceiling and the elevators breaking down constantly (at least the freight elevator and the service elevator never break down at the same time--oh god, I've just jinxed it) are nothing compared to having our air conditioner stop working yesterday.

It's 84 degrees Fahrenheit downstairs and 89 degrees upstairs, and that's... livable (albeit miserable) except if you're in Replenishment like I am and your job consists of manual labor that's sweaty, tiring work even in air conditioning. I thought I was going to die. We lasted two hours before management told us we could go home because it was ridiculous to make us work in those conditions. When I left, the discussion was whether they'd even be able to open the store today.

I took a step outside, where it was not nearly as hot and windy to boot, and it was like heaven. Ahhh. I like heat, okay? I really like it. I don't use air conditioning in my car when I go anywhere, I'm fine with heat. But not if there's no AIR.

They're saying it might take three weeks to fix. Three weeks. In June. With no air conditioning and incredible humidity and thunderstorms. People are going to come in wet and it's NOT GOING TO EVAPORATE. Oh my god. It'll be hell.

And I'm going to be doing manual labor in it. Please kill me now.

To think, I'm going to be one of the lucky ones. I only work five hours a day twice a week!
Well, last week was bad. I was sick and my laptop never worked (I ended up returning the damn thing after I spent five hours over a period of two days talking to four different customer support technicians and they finally told me they couldn't fix the thing and to just return it, and a few emails with Amazon.com support later, I was told they didn't feel I should have it replaced and to just return it (which was really just them politely refusing to replace it because they didn't feel it was their problem), I had to pay $23 to ship it back, man, was I ever frustrated), and my desktop is messed up TOO, and a few other things that are minor in the long run but on top of everything else, really didn't help at all. By Friday, I was sick (again) and I went into work at JCPenney anyway because I'd called off on Monday and was there about two and a half hours before I couldn't take it anymore, went home to check to make sure they'd gotten my schedule right for THIS week (long story, it got switched around because of stuff at the bank) and found out that I wasn't scheduled to work that Friday ANYWAY. I'd gone into work sick when I wasn't even supposed to be working! And no one told me, and they made me jump through hoops when I wanted to go home sick! I was... so exhausted and miserable and probably the slightest thing would've set me into a sobbing fit by that point.

I'm really not joking. Just... stress. I was fine before, but even if I like the new job it's still stressful, and I'm still learning and it didn't take much to push me over. I'm still probably a crying jag waiting to happen, because this week is starting out worse than last week. After that bad week, I went to work at the bank Saturday morning, and then had the rest of the day to unwind from everything.

Saturday night (it was 2am, so technically Sunday), I was lying awake in bed because... well, I tend to do that. Insomniac and all. So, lying awake and my mom walks in to say my dad's really sick and in agonizing pain and she's rushing him to the emergency room. It being 2am and me not being really awake, I kinda agreed and once she was gone kinda freaked... It's good I didn't actually panic before they'd left, because I found out later Mom was barely holding it together.

Spent four or five hours in the hospital Sunday afternoon, during which Dad got a couple more tests done and we were told nothing except that it wasn't a heart attack before he got let go. Then yesterday, we found out that it was his gall bladder and he'd need surgery most probably, and I spent the afternoon (I was at work in the morning) driving him FROM and then back TO the hospital and running errands and then my grandparents came home from Florida, so two hours visiting.

And then sometime around 6:20 this morning, Mom woke me up to tell me that Dad was having another attack, and it was another trip to the emergency room, and then about two hours ago, I got a call saying he has to have surgery today, sometime between noon and 3, to have his gall bladder removed, so we'll see how that goes.

I've really got to take a shower so I'll be ready to go up there and wait when Mom calls to tell me when he's having the surgery exactly, but I feel like crap. My head is killing me.

Today's my day off. I was going to use it to do laundry and go shopping--Mom's birthday is tomorrow, and she really deserves a fantastic present, plus I have a good friend's college graduation party this Saturday and I need a present for that too. No more days off. The end of this week isn't looking too great either. Not sure how Dad's recovery time is going to be, or even how long he'll be in the hospital since we won't know until after he's had the surgery.

It's just... long two weeks, I'm betting. Very long. And so very stressful. And sometime as soon as possible I have to call Brian and get that information I still need to fix my desktop, which really needs fixing now that the laptop is gone. My head hurts. A lot.

Edit: Naturally, the minute I post this is the minute I get the phone call from Mom to say that Dad's just going into surgery and I have to get up there as soon as possible. Augh. Still no shower.
Sometimes I hate my family dynamics. I mean, really hate them. Sometimes it's cute when they forget to tell me things, or assume I know about them. I spend 90% of my free time sequestered in my bedroom. How am I supposed to know about anything unless they tell me?

Dad came home from work today and casually mentioned that Mom had a half-day tomorrow because she was going to our next door neighbor's funeral tomorrow. A close family friend who we all love. Then he realized from my reaction, that perhaps they'd forgotten to tell me she'd died yesterday morning. And then in the ensuing shocked silence, he endeavored to apologize and explain what'd been going on, and that's when I found out they'd also forgotten to tell me that she'd been dying of a perforated stomach for the past two months.

It's just, god. It's awful, horrible news that'd make me bawl my eyes out anyway, and to have it shoved on me out of the blue? I should've known! I would have visited her, I would have done something! I'd been wondering why I hadn't seen her around, but I thought I was just missing her! And I've been treating her husband perfectly normally, waving to him cheerfully whenever I see him. Fuck, I think I saw him yesterday. He must've thought horribly of me.

Now I have to go in to work tonight for my second overnight with red eyes and a huge migraine. I don't get off until 5am, and then I'm going to get up early--probably 10 or 11 tomorrow morning, get ready and ride an hour and a half for her funeral. And then come home, go to bed and get up at 5am for my first official shift in my new job on Wednesday. At least work tonight won't be awful, it's the kind of focused but almost mindless work that's amazingly distracting. No customers to be calm and collected for, either. And it's not like I would be able to sleep anyway.
ikarit: (akihika/ end of the world)
( Jul. 26th, 2006 11:50 pm)
My eyes are really bothering me lately. My left eye, really. I've taken to wearing my glasses all the time, because my left eye is constantly dry--I can wear my contacts maybe six hours before it starts bothering me so much that I have to take them out. I'm almost wondering if there's something wrong, but otherwise nothing's wrong.

On the other hand, I'm not really that happy with my glasses either. It feels like they need to be readjusted! The nosepieces feel off, and they're sticking to my nose and it's driving me crazy. I started putting lipgloss on the nosepieces just to save myself from insanity. I'm really not kidding.

I could've handled one or the other, but of course for me, they have to happen at the exact same time. Somewhere there's a deity laughing at me.

Oh! And in other, less annoying news, I went to see Superman Returns this afternoon. No one wanted to see it with me and I did have a free pass, so I just went by myself. I've only ever done that once before and I swore to never do it again because I felt like a total moron, but for some reason I thought it might be worth it today.

Brandon Routh is incredibly hot--I didn't think so before, but damn, I changed my mind within the first ten minutes of the movie. That is one attractive man!
ikarit: (team seven/ sparks)
( Jun. 3rd, 2006 05:47 pm)
Okay, you know what really annoys me more than anything else in the world (that I can think of at this exact moment)? It happens a lot with fanfic or icon posts... when someone posts to a community or a journal with a link to somewhere else and calls it a fake cut. Occasionally they get creative and bold the link.

It's not a fake cut. It's a link. A fake cut is a link that looks like a cut. A link is just a link. See the difference, moron?

( Fake cut )

ikarit: (neji/ all I really want is some justice)
( Apr. 12th, 2006 02:42 pm)
I'm wearing shorts!

Also, I would like to point out that if a building is air-conditioned, the tenants would really appreciate it if you actually turned it on, because when a building is air-conditioned the tenants tend not to invest their money in fans large enough to cool a whole room.

Just a suggestion!
ikarit: (naruto/ no will to wake for this morn)
( Apr. 11th, 2006 02:09 pm)
I'm feeling sort of bitter right now. My parents and my youngest brother are in Florida, while my other brother and I are stuck up here in Ohio. They're in Disney World when we're in school.

I should sue for emotional damages, dammit.
Nearly three years after my first and only pap smear, my doctor finally wore me down enough to get me to have a second one. It was supposed to be on Tuesday, but I missed the appointment because I was still sick. It was rescheduled for earlier this morning.

Suddenly, I think that I never want to have sex. Ever. Unless there's some sort of anesthetic involved, because ohshitOW.

Also, I'm never having another pap smear until after I've had sex, which I'm quite determined will be the other side of never.
I spent most of today watching Full Metal Panic! The Second Raid. It was a nice way to spend the day, turning myself into an utter wreck after each episode. It's been a long while since I've seen anything quite that emotionally powerful. The fear, the horror, the gore, the violence, the devastation and then of course the happy resolution. I was so choked up throughout most of the series that I couldn't cry or laugh, I was stuck somewhere in the middle and about to burst from the suspense of wanting to know what would happen next, and how they would fix it all up.

So it is with great pleasure that I just finished watching the last episode (only thirteen episodes? Felt like a lot longer...) and can give my decisive ending thoughts.




Why? Why do they always do this to me? Can't they give even just a little resolution? Okay, they did, but I wanted more! More! Or at least keep out that last bit with Sousuke and Tessa, because that was annoying. But whyyyyy couldn't you give me something with Sousuke and Kaname? Just... just... he could've hugged her back! That would have been good enough for me! I don't ask for a lot, just returning a hug. He's done it before, so it's not even revolutionary! I hate anime, I really do. They always do this to me. *weeps*

Whoever the hell thought it would be cute to pull the fire alarm after midnight on a Thursday night needs to have their head bashed in until they DIE. DIE DIE DIE DIEDIEDIE.
While I like being at school very, very much, there are certain downsides. For example, it has brought boredom to new heights. I get bored just as often as I do at home, but at least at home, I can go out and bug my brothers until they explode. Or bounce around my mom until I get her just as hyper and then bounce around together. Or best of all, I can walk outside, get in my car, and GO ANYWHERE I WANT.

Here, options one and two are related to option three--to do any of those things, I have to go outside (a process with can take up to five minutes, depending on elevator wait time), walk five minutes to the transportation center, wait an unspecified amount of time for a bus, take a seven minute bus ride to the other campus, get into the gated and fenced-in parking lot, find my car, and then get out through a different gate. Getting to my car can take up to a half an hour. THEN I can go anywhere I want. :D

I can't wait until next semester, when I will be able to park on this campus. Getting to my car will only take ten minutes--at the very most! That will just be awesome. As of this semester, mostly my car is just too much of a pain to bother with.

ETA: And apparently going to FF.N to relieve boredom is not a good idea, because I find things like this:

Hermane and Anakin Skywalker first mission by angeldevilgrl91
Hermane Skywalker just found out that she is gonna be a jedi Master and her brother Anakin is gonna her apprentice.will they survive there first mission without Master Obiwan or will they fall into a trap?

There are so many things wrong with that, but the first thing that comes to mind is Hermane? What is THAT, the feminine form of Herman? I'm going to gouge my eyes out now, kthxbai.
My heart is pounding like I just ran ten miles. Katie and I had our first disagreement.

I knew it would happen, especially since we have very different belief systems. It doesn't help that we each regard the other's belief system in a negative light. Still, we'd been getting along wonderfully, so it was a bit of a shock.

Not as much of a shock as what we disagreed about, however. We disagreed about something I never truly imagined possible to disagree about. It's something I feel incredibly strongly about, and... her opinion on it made me want to scream obscenities at her until I lost my voice.

We disagreed about rape. Or more accurately, we disagreed about whether women who are raped are sometimes 'asking for it.' She thought some are; I was too horrified to properly explain that I do not believe that.

Am I naïve to be so stunned? I must be. Still, behind my disbelief was a feeling of cynical vindication. Vindication that my fears about her religious beliefs were not irrational. I wasn't wrong in the certainty that it would be a problem, a major problem.

I just wasn't expecting the first problem to be something to utterly... horrific.

In retrospect, it's a stupid thing to have a conversation about. But a question was asked, and I thought the answer was blindly obvious. Why are college girls told not to walk alone at night? I thought it was important to answer that, because it's important to understand that. Isn't it?

She didn't seem to think so. She thought it was silly. She doesn't believe in expecting the worst, she believes in acting as if the best will happen. It was something to that effect, anyway. I didn't agree with that. With every fiber of my body, I did not agree. I may roll my eyes at my mother every time she brings up things like that (which she does, a lot), but I do understand and I do listen, and having a mother that constantly worries about me, constantly warns me about unsafe situations is something that I should be incredibly grateful for. It's something that I am grateful for. I am naïve, I always have been. My mother is a ditz. She is silly and flighty and an airhead, and I inherited all that from her, but she has never been naïve, and when it is important, she won't let me be naïve either.

So, despite my naïveté, I do not expect the best of people. I wish it, but I am not stupid enough to expect it. It was my mother's mantra, and I learned it very well. It was hard not to, since she's been drilling it into my head since the day I was born, and that is not an exaggeration.

My mother also didn't raise me to be rude, so I didn't tell Katie that I thought she was a moron for believing that. Sadly.

That wasn't even the disagreement. Oh, no. That would've been too easy. I'm not sure how the conversation even degenerated the way it did, because it's not exactly a light conversation topic had with someone you barely know.

But it did degenerate, and that's when the real difference of opinion became obvious.

I told Katie that I tended to look on the subject of personal safety in that kind of situation as very important, because more than half my friends from high school had experience with sexual abuse of some kind, whether rape or molestation or something else. I cannot be so blasé because I know it happens. It's real.

She laughed and smiled, just a little, and my heart turned over in my chest. I knew whatever was coming would be bad.

I was right.

"Yeah, well, you also said most of your friends wanted to get pregnant, so I don't think they really count."

That... That, assuming it is even relevent to the conversation, which I do not believe it should be, was not true. Oh, it had a ring of truth. A few days ago, I'd mentioned a friend of mine who got pregnant our senior year of high school. She had wanted to get pregnant, for as long as I'd known her. She was just one girl, just one girl with a stupid misconception and optimistic short-sightedness. Everyone else tried to talk her out of it, tried everything possible to change her mind, but we failed. The only promise we ever managed to extract out of her was that she wouldn't actively try to get pregnant. We knew it was an empty promise, because she didn't use protection. She claimed she didn't believe in it. So yes, she got pregnant. And as every single one of us in our group of friends expected, this friend regretted it almost immediately. Every time I looked at her our senior year, I could see the look of utter terror in her eyes, and I wanted to cry.

But it was not relevant to the conversation. I knew it wasn't, and I still know it. Even if I had a hundred friends who thought it was a brilliant idea to get pregnant in high school, that has FUCK ALL to do with whether they'd been molested or raped, and as far as I'm concerned, every godamned person on Earth should be aware of that.

But that wasn't even the part of the conversation that upset me. No, what really upset me was what came next, after I corrected Katie. My voice was already shaky.

"It was one friend. And what does that have to do with anything?"

She dodged the question, and altered the conversation a bit, still with that little smile on her face. "Still, you know, if you look at what clothes some kinds of girls wear, they're really asking for it. You can't really blame them, not that it makes it okay, but sometimes... well, you know."

Just in case it wasn't clear, by 'them' she meant the rapists.

The fuck? So, if I walk around in, say, a backless shirt and a miniskirt, I'm asking to be raped? Well, holy shit, I'm going to start dressing like a goddamned Catholic schoolgirl. Can't possibly be asking for it then! Unless some guy with a Catholic schoolgirl fetish comes along, and then I suppose I was asking for it then, too.

If it had been any other person in the world except my roommate, I would have started screaming. I would have screamed myself hoarse. I would have had to restrain myself from physical violence. But it was my roommate, and even though my shock and fury, even though I was literally trembling, I knew better than to continue the conversation, because then I wouldn't have been able to stop myself if it had gone on much longer. That would have made for a very awkward living situation, and also, we were walking outside in a public area.

So, voice clearly unsteady, I told her that we should stop talking about it immediately, because I did NOT agree with what she had just said and that continuing the conversation would just lead to bad things.

She seemed amused, but agreed to end the conversation in a tone of voice that clearly implied she thought I was being ridiculous. I didn't respond, and that was the end of the conversation.

I would just like to say that if I was being ridiculous, I would like someone to tell me.

Right now.
ikarit: (kate/ it's a good year for a murder)
( Sep. 10th, 2005 10:25 am)
I do not care WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE, but whatever stupid little shits thought it'd be brilliant to throw mustard, flour, egg and tiny cut-up squares of paper all over our yard and my car NEEDS A GOOD PUNCH IN THE FACE.

Not because of the mustard, flour, egg and paper, but because they used it to write DIE JIMMY on my car.

I swear to god, if I ever find out who did it, I will be paying a visit to their goddamned house and there will be slapping and screaming.
ikarit: (naruto/ you pass me by)
( Aug. 28th, 2005 06:39 pm)
Is anyone having issues with lj not emailing comments? Because I am having issues. Huge, giant-like issues.

I am just slightly annoyed.
ikarit: (sakura/ defeat)
( Aug. 14th, 2005 03:42 pm)
Goddammit, why does my memory suck? Because I found a gift card in my wallet the other day and couldn't remember where I'd gotten it. So of course I spent it!

...it turns out that it was Mom's, and I was most assuredly not supposed to spend it. So now I owe her $50 and I DO NOT HAVE $50.
ikarit: (sakura/ die bitch)
( Aug. 11th, 2005 01:38 pm)
When I go to the bank, I expect to be treated courteously. I expect that I will be allowed to ask questions. I expect that I will not be interrupted in the middle of asking my question. I expect that that my question will be answered in at the very least, a civil tone of voice.

I do not expect to be treated like I am personally trying to make your day harder. I do not expect to be interrupted in the middle of my question. I do not expect to be interrupted each time I try to repeat the question. I do not expect an exasperated reply of, "it's bank policy, just do it please," when I still have not even finished my question.

Because if there is one thing my mother has told me about banks, it is to always ask questions when you don't understand something.