Hear Me Roar

I have neglected my blog. I'm a bad kitty. I guess I have to give you some back story. Just imagine that I'm a live version of some television drama and it's the beginning of the second season. I quit my job. Best thing I ever did! I never want to stay someplace that causes me as much grief as JJ. I managed to leave without getting into any major fights. I had the feeling that when I left it was going to be with a bang but my actual departing happened more like a whimper. God help me I wanted to just explode but I kept my composer. Go figure.
Flash forward to the present and your girl is working right next door to her old job! I'm a Beaner. I just started working at the CBTL and today was the end, more or less, of my second week. I have to say that I don't love it but it is what I asked for. I wanted new scenery, new people, I wanted a challenge and I got it. It's hard working with new people who don't care about me or don't want to get to know me. I can't figure out what is more exhausting, feeling miss treated by people you love and trust or not being loved and trusted at all. Most of the people at my new job are nice but you can just tell they are sort of ambivalent towards me. I'm trying really hard but it is so frustrating. There is one guy there who is just mean for the lack of a better word. He hates his job and I guess everyone in the immediate radius. Then there's Stalin; if Stalin was a small round faced Spanish woman. She never seems to have anything nice to say. It's stressful but everyone else seems nice...I guess.

Fed Up!

I'm so angry. I'm a fist of furry: A ball of rage ready to implode. I can't take it anymore. There are four weeks between me and a resignation. Resignation makes it sound like I'm leaving something noble but I'm just quitting Jamba Juice. If it's not a spineless apathetic manager, now it's attitude from my co-workers who I thought were my friends. Fighting isn’t off limits between friends but respect should always be present and I was disrespected tonight. I don't feel like regurgitating a stupid argument so I won't. But I'm tired. I'm just tired. No, I'm sick and tired. I want to leave without burning bridges but right now I feel like burning down the bridge and the fucking forest. I have to keep it together because when I go it's going to be on my terms.

Blocked

It’s a new year but I don’t have anything to say about it. I hope everyone had a safe New Years and I will try and get back into writing soon.

Happy Days

School is done. Need I say more. Talk to you guys real soon and I hope everyone has a great Christmas. Give and recieve with love.

In Love and Loving It!

I am in love. Yes, I know, it's crazy. Right? I'm in love. I am in love with poetry. It's been a long time coming but all the bad relationships and hardships have led me here: in poetry's arms. I must admit that it took me a while, you know to sort things out. The truth is I've always noticed how attractive poetry was. When I was just a young girl I used to admire poetry often but only in private. I never told anybody about it, I was scared and confused. You have no idea what it's like I mean other little girls are playing dress up and house I would spend hours alone writing. What, like I'm the only one? Please, everyone writes. Trust me. Ok, maybe not everyone but more people than you realize. I'm just woman enough to admit it. Of course back then I would pray that my mom wouldn't walk in on me writing; endlessly. It was bad timing then but I know myself now. The attraction is undeniable. Have you seen poetry? Can you say hot? Poetry is hot! I never really forgot about poetry, I experimented a little in high school. It was only natural that I would be curious. Boy those were some hot times--scary times--alone times. It's not easy liking poetry. I tried playing it straight for while; living my life without poetry. Trying desperately to avoid those hateful slurs: "you poet! Dreamer! Beatnik!" I don’t want to be a dreamer. I want to be like everyone else but some things are just meant to be. Some people are just born dreamers I guess. I haven't been a poet long. I'm still learning. I mean I don't even know if I have a right to call myself a poet yet. That's how new I am at it. Just because I love poetry doesn't mean I'm loved back. To tell you the truth, I don't even think I'm poetry's type. I’ve been to some those poetry clubs and I stand out like sore thumb. Poetry has had a lot of lovers. A lot! A hell of a lot more lovers than me. What could I bring to the relationship? Poetry has courted men and women who are far more experienced than I will ever be. How can I live up to that? How could I ever be worthy enough for poetry? Poetry's relationships are infamous. I'm over my head in this one. I would choose to love something that may never love me back. But I do love poetry.

P(M). S. I Hate Men!

My job is composed of twelve people, seven of which are men...boys. At any given time when I am on a shift I could be working with most if not completely an all male staff. All of them are emotionally or socially retarded. Dealing with them sometimes makes me feel as if I'm becoming retarded. I'm retarded by association! Why didn't anyone tell that kind of stuff rubs off!
Our job is simple. A well trained monkey could do it. If fact, I think our customers would benefit from actual monkeys running the entire store. When’s the last time you got mad at a monkey? I bet you can’t remember any. And you could pay them in bananas.
I digress; I try to do my job well. I like to have fun and I do have fun when I work. But there are things I am responsible for and in general I am fairly ridged when it comes to following rules. It's just sort of who I am. I mean what I want to do with my life (drug counseling) it's important to follow the rules. Someone's life could depend on it. How could I follow them so strictly in one place and not at all in other places? I just feel like the people I work with just see me as a big joke. It pisses me off. Especially GameBoy, to him I'm just naive and fragile. I don't know anything. But what kills me is what he did tonight. Nobody else’s feelings matter to him. I'm having trouble with this one kid at work because no matter what I ask him to do he won't do it! I have to ask him five times before he even considers doing what I ask. I don't think he's doing it to be malicious because I know I'm not the only lead who has this problem. But fucking GameBoy just kept making fun of me every time I tried to get this guy to do anything. I just wanted to smack him up side the head. This fucking guy already does not take me seriously. It was hurtful and embarrassing. I hate men...boys! And most importantly I’m really starting to hate my job.

Promises, Promises…

I know it has been a while since I last posted. To my three dedicated readers, I am truly sorry. To the rest of you…who am I kidding. Anyway, I promise that this week I will post about my birthday and the Stones concert. Just as a heads up, I didn’t spend any of my special day depressed or suicidal. Yay me! Also, I owe a whole post to my best friend Danny. It will be titled “Just Danny” and it will probably be in two parts. And last but not least, I think I officially have a booty call. Cool huh? Every girl should have one. I highly recommend it. Bye all.