Sometimes, it's all a matter of perspective.

I know that I've ranted about having to work at KMart and all the crazy and stressful things that have happened to me while there. But a friend of my shared this link on facebook, and it made me so, so happy that I worked at KMart.

Man with Exposed Erection Arrested Outside of Walmart

Addition to the previous post:

I forgot to mention these in my previous posting:




Yes, everyone, that's correct. We now carry socks designed to be worn with flip flops.
















Is there no shame anymore?

Deep Thoughts from KMart

Deep thoughts from today's shift of freight at KMart:


You make think you've seen ugly purses, but I present to you the Ugliest Purse Ever:


And it comes in black, silver, and pink in addition to giant-purple-people-eater.












You know that saying, "Don't count your chickens before they hatch"? Well, I'm tweaking that for KMart freight: "Don't hatch your rubber duckies before you count them." We got in BOXES of rubber duckies for infants. I took them out of the boxes, and threw the boxes out before counting them. And I had to count them to put them on locator in our stockroom. There were approximately this many:



(In actuality, there were 300. 100 per box. So I didn't have to count after the first 100, once I figured out how many were in each bag that was inside the boxes. But can you imagine counting 100 rubber duckies by hand? Just try. It's not fun.)

And of course, there were the incredibly smart people who thought they could get away with swapping a UPC for a $7.99 car accessory for a $50 motorcycle battery and the cashier wouldn't notice it. And it left me doing this:














Goodnight folks. May tomorrow bring shenanigans for you to enjoy.

Let it be.

People are sometimes so predictable and benign that it's funny. Like those that come into KMart. Sure, I complain about stupidity and rudeness, but honestly, most of the people I've written about on here are completely harmless. They just think that some of life's tiniest road bumps are huge obstacles; and no one taught them to control their anger (it was probably indulged by bad parenting) or to treat everyone with respect.

Other times, people surprise me. Some are humbling surprises of the wealth of kindness that can be found in the world. When I read about people putting their lives in danger to save a loved one, or this kid who who gives to those he knows need it more. There is a remarkable amount of goodness in the world, the problem is that usually, the bad gets more attention.

Take the Westboro Baptist Church. They're coming to my state this week, to Springfield, IL, to be exact, to protest in the capital. Their website says they are protesting at the capital because of the attempts of the state of Illinois to block their right to protest, and they're also apparently protesting at some KISS concert because KISS fans don't like them either. Well, frankly, trying to block their protesting may be one thing that the state of Illinois actually did RIGHT, and this may be the one thing I have in common with KISS fans. Go figure. I, quite honestly, have a few dogs in this fight. They protest military funerals. My Grandfather was in the Navy, my brother is in the Army. They hate Jews. My brother, sister-in-law, and her family are Jewish. They hate homosexuals. I have quite a few gay friends. So when people hate my people, I get angry.

I'd never been to their website before I saw one of my friends commenting on a Facebook event trying to rally people to go protest their protest. So I thought I'd check it out, and while it did make me angry, oh did it light a fire under my ass, it also made me so sad for those people. Not the ones being protested, but the protesters. How terrible must it be to live with so much hatred in your heart? They hate law makers, they hate this country for "allowing" homosexuality, they hate other religions, they hate, it seems, everything. And I feel bad for them, because they'll never really know love or happiness, because they will spend their whole lives following others they hate around a land they hate, trying to spread hate.

I'm not an expert on religion. I haven't read the Bible cover to cover (I'm a bad Catholic, what can I say?) but I do know that the message I've been taught since I was little was a message of love, not hate. There are all sorts of places in the Bible, Old and New Testament alike, where the words are ambiguous, sometimes even seeming to advocate anger, hatred, and violence, like the famous, "I come not to bring peace, but a sword."

I could go on and on about places in the Bible where Jesus talks about loving one another, and suspending judgement of your fellow man, but I won't. Because I think this even goes outside of religion. People who aren't religious get fired up about these folks, so it's not just religious sensibilities that they're offending. Even were I not religious (and my level varies from day to day, truthfully), I would still be angered and saddened by this group of people. Who are they hurting but themselves? If we all just ignored them, maybe even gave them pity (because let's face it, they're pathetic), maybe they'd go away. They want people to get angry. They want us to stomp and tirade against them, becuase they see that as their message being clear, inciting a response, and being broadcast even further by the enraged. So maybe we should just stop giving them lip service and start ignoring their hate-filled asses. If they've got no one left to preach to, their existence becomes meaningless. You cannot fight fire with fire, after all. That only creates more of the same. You have to pour out the flames with cold water. So fight hatred with indifference. It's difficult to keep fighting with people who have no interest in a fight. Try hating someone who not only doesn't hate you back, but has no investment whatsoever in your hatred. It's hard, if not impossible, to sustain.

How about some fries with that shake?

How many people reading this have visited a Steak n' Shake at least once? I assume that most people have, some of you probably with me at least once. In case you haven't, or you're just not aware, when one goes to Steak n' Shake, their bills come pre-split (in a way). It lists what each "seat" ordered, the total for that seat, and then the total for the entire party. It's nice, because it makes it SO easy to split a bill. No trying to remember what each person's meal cost, no trying to factor out tax so that someone doesn't grossly over or under pay. It's simple. But apparently, it's only simple for the customers.

A friend was in town last week, and we went to Steak n' Shake. We both got the same meal, except I had a milkshake and she had something else that wasn't a milkshake (was it water? tea? She reads this, so she may remember). Moving on. When the bill came, it listed each seat total, with one saying "double with cheese" and "cookies and cream shake" and the other saying "double with cheese" and "something not a shake".

(A short aside: the waitress brought my milkshake out AFTER our meals had arrived. She actually came over after we'd been waiting over 15 minutes for our food--which I'm not opposed to in a restaurant where they're actually out killing your steakburger when your order comes in. Anyway, she comes out to ask if she can refill our drinks and apologize for the wait for our meals. When she asks, "Can I get you a refill?" I tried to politely respond, "No, but you can get me my shake." Yeah, the food came within 5 minutes, and my shake arrived a little after that. I get annoyed when I go places and my appetizer isn't served prior to my main course. Imagine my displeasure that my beverage arrived post-first-bite of the burger. Not. Okay.

And now back to our feature presentation . . .)

So my friend and I go to pay our bills. I hand the cashier the check, tell her we need to split the bill, and I'm paying for the double meal and the shake. She punches approximately 26 buttons and tells me my total is $3 something. I must have given her a stupid look, because she mumbled something about a milkshake. I corrected her, again politely, that I'm not just paying for a shake (Seriously? Why would my friend come in and eat TWO of the same meals, while I sipped on my late-shake?). She gets all freaked out because she already split the bill and doesn't know how to un-split it. After calling for someone to help her and while having to wait for that person, I tell her just to ring up the whole bill. The meal was $4, so friendly and I just decide to trade cash, and I'll just swipe my debit card for the whole thing. This is, apparently, just as complicated as splitting it. It takes another 3-4 minutes before the bill is put back together, my card swiped, and the transaction finished.

And for the grand finale, she doesn't tell me until AFTER the whole incident is finished and the transaction complete that the receipt printer ran out of tape, she didn't know how to refill it, and wants to know if it's okay if I don't get a receipt, because she can't reprint it if I do. A little late, don't you think?

I guess I can't blame some of the people who come into the 'mart and assume I'm not firing on all pistons. Look at their reference points.

This is further proof that I should never have kids.

I've been seriously slacking in my posting lately. I'm sure all 4 of my regular readers are terribly disappointed in my recent absenteeism. My apologies. So here's a story that proves to me why I shouldn't be responsible for children:

I got home from class tonight and couldn't find my dog. (The hubby is out of town, so no one was here.) I didn't really think anything of it, because we'd been wracked by severe thunderstorms all afternoon, and he's really gun-shy. I expected that he would be hiding, but he wasn't under the bed or in his kennel, which is where he usually is. I figured he would just come out when he wanted to. I took off my shoes and opened the closet to put them away, and there's my dog--sitting right in front of the closet door. (And this is not a walk-in closet, friends.) He must have ducked into it sometime after I changed for class, but before I left, when I went in to close the door to make sure he--ironically--didn't get into any of my shoes while I was gone.

I got home just before 9. I left at 5. My poor little chihuahua was stuck in my closet, during a thunderstorm, with no food or water, for 4 hours! I'm such a terrible mother! He's still acting very skittish. I'm telling myself it's because there's still thunder and lightning outside, but I'm freaking out that I scarred my poor dog for the rest of his life. I cannot believe I shut that poor baby in my closet all evening. It makes me want to cry!

Never. Having. Kids. Ever.

Come quickly, summer of little responsibility!

My semester is finally over. I submitted my last grades today. And within 2 hours I got my first email from a student wanting to know why she got one grade instead of another. I hate that. I don't just hand out grades. I average together their scores on everything and get a number. Then a grading scale tells me what letter that number corresponds to. Normally, it's someone who failed to realize that missing 10+ classes would affect his/her grade. But not this time, no. Because this particular school uses a plus/minus grading scale. So this one was wondering why she got an A- instead of an A. (The top of the scale starts with A, so there's no A+. It just goes: A, A-, B+, B, B-, etc. on down to the F).

In some respects, I like the plus/minus scale. But in others, I hate it. Personally, I think that if we had used it at the college I attended, I would have hated it. I don't like the fact that you could technically earn all A's during your college career, but not have a 4.0, because an A- earns you a 3.7 instead (or something like that). So in some respects, yes, I get this student's frustration because maybe she was trying to make it through college with a 4.0. But on the other hand, why passive-aggresively email me and suggest that somehow, I miscalculated or incorrectly entered it? ("I was wondering if perhaps there was a mistake in my grade, and was wondering why I got an A- instead of an A.) Yeah, there was a mistake in the grade: You got a B on one paper. Grr.

I'm not really mad at the student. I'm mad at the grading scale. And life in general because I cannot ever seem to get through a single semester when I don't have a someone crying foul over a grade that he/she earned.

This is one of the many reasons I have determined this semester that although I do like teaching, it's not what I want to do forever. So, Library Science it is. I'll just keep trying stuff until something fits. Sooner or later, right? I guess when all is said and done, I can always consider a career in retail. [please note the sarcasm]