Clear as mud? I thought so.

Anyway, this was a rough migraine, not one of the worst I've had, but not one of the easy ones either. (Is there such thing as an easy migraine? Yep, when you have them like I do there is.) One of those that make you feel like your head will implode if one sliver of light happens to pass before your eyes. Also one of those kind that makes your stomach do flip flops at any minute smell. bleh.

Umm okay bisa, that's real interesting. What else is going on in your world?

Let's see. I got an email from George. Depressing and sad. I'm stuck not knowing how to help. In fact, I still feel helpless. He hasn't said yet just what he needs from me, even though I offered several things. Umm, that sounds odd. Bear with me, still have fuzzy brain here. What I offered was a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to, or simply someone to treat him "normally". The ball is in his court.

The requests for the Pink Ribbon tags have slowed down alot, thank gawd. Over 700 tag requests. Lemme tell ya'll right here and now, that's a helluva lot of tags. I'm so damn sick of looking at pink ribbons. bleh.

btw - bleh seems to be my buzz word of the day.

So, to counteract all the sweetness and light of both the Pink Ribbon tags as well as the generosity of making them for anyone who wants one, I've decided to work on a graphic that is totally opposite from that. I've been looking through my stash of 5,400 graphics, trying to come up with something to tube or tag. I hate 'em all. I think it's just that I've had them for so long that I'm sick of seeing 'em or that I can't remember why I saved some of them. So I may have to go on a Raunchy Graphic hunt. I'm thinking leather, lace, cuffs, red ass perhaps? Yummy! Nope, no bleh's here. Hey!! You in the back. I heard that. Get offa my cloud.

Ohh speaking of cloud .. it has been raining off and on here for the past couple of days. This of course signals the change of seasons here. Yay! ~happy dance~

I love fall. I love the crispness of the air, the beautiful color of the leaves when they change, the fact that I can drag my sweaters and leggins out. Yep, bisa is majorly into comfy clothes. Give me a big soft sweater and a pair of leggins and my socks and I am in heaven. I love curling up in that uniform .... huh? yes, I like my schoolgirl uniform too, but this is different ... anyway, I love curling up in a sweater and leggins, reading on the couch. Especially on rainy days. Mmmm.

On another note, I had to wonder earlier this evening (yes, we're still on bisa time, so it's still Weds night) if people who hold jobs in which they are in some sort of customer service field are getting less friendly or if I'm just getting bitchier in my old age. (Yes, I'm old, or at least I will be in 18 real days, 19 bisa days .. but more on that later.)

Let me give you an example. I had to run into a convenience store earlier tonight to pick up some Mtn Dew, Pringles and smokes .. yanno, the Trinity. So I go to the store just up the street from my house. There are three convenience stores within a block of each other, but I just whipped into the first one I came to. I bebop in and grab what I need and head for the cash register. I'm in a semi-hurry cuz I had left Gomez and Kimo home by themselves and .. well hell, I don't even risk taking a shower while they are both here and awake cuz of the damage they can do. But, I took the chance since they were busy in separate rooms. Ok ok, I'm digressing, so shoot me. Ok, where as I? Oh yeah, at the register. There's this girl working there who is probably all of 19 years old and she's talking on the phone. It's obvious from what she's saying and the way she's acting that it's a personal call. Does she tell the caller to hold on? Nope, she doesn't. She rings up what I put on the counter and tells me what I owe, without asking if there was anything else. In fact, she stage whispered it to me. Heaven forbid she interupt her caller, right? Then I said "I also need a pack of Marlboro Ultra Light 100's, please." and she gives me this look like I'm inconveniencing her. But I hold it together cuz I'm only slightly irritated at this point. She huffs, turns around and grabs a pack of cigs and puts them on the counter and presses buttons on the register again and gives me some off the wall amount, again with the stage whisper, the phone wedged between ear and shoulder. I frowned and said "That can't be right. Please double check it." She scrolls up the register tape and reads off stuff. "Mtn Dew, Pringles, Cigs, Gas.."

Whoah! Back that puppy up. I didn't get gas. I inform her of this and she asks if I'm sure. *blink* Well hells bells, I know I'm old but I'm not THAT fucking old that I'd forget. By this time she's glancing at the ever growing line of people behind me and I know that look. She's getting pissed at ME because people are getting annoyed at having to wait. Like it's MY fault the little twit screwed up. She charges the gas off and gives me the correct total in between "Uh-huh" and "Yeah, totally!" remarks into the phone. About the same time I realize that she's given me the wrong cigs. Ohhhh no no no, this ain't happening. I'm sorry, but I've smoked 100's for way too long and I know that shorts are gonna burn up faster in the ashtray while I'm typing dland stuff, plust I'm going to smoke 'em faster because they are like a half a cig to me. The look she shot me when I said "I said 100's" damn near got the bitch slapped. I mean, I wasn't bitchy. I just stated a fact.

FINALLY I got out of there, swearing up and down to myself that I was going to call the manager. Yeah right, bisa. Won't happen. I have never done that. I probably should. I know when I was working in management I actually encouraged my clients/customers to let me know if they had a problem with service. I wanted to know so I could handle it. But nope, I won't do it. What I will do is just silently take my business elsewhere.

Damn, ever since I started working I've been in some sort of position in which I dealt with customer service in one form or another. *Side note, I've been doing that longer than Phone Slut has been alive* I took pride in my work, whether I was dealing with clients, customers or patients. I know the ins and outs of service work and it grates on my nerves when I run across someone who deals with the public who has no friggen clue.

Ok ok, I know what you're thinking. "But bisa, the girl is in a dead end job, probably just working for extra pocket money. It's not like it's her career." To that I say "Kiss my tiara!!" That's a cop-out for two reasons. (1) When you take a job, that means that you accept all the responsibilities of that job and (2) It is never ever too early to start working on those people skills and if she doesn't then that WILL be her career. I didn't expect the girl to bend over and kiss my ass, I mean please, I'm not that insane, but dammit when I'm being waited on by someone I expect their full attention and I expect them to take responsibility for their own screw ups. Don't blame me because you can't do your job.

It's not just me, is it?

On another note, while I was fuming in my car, about to pull out of the convenience store parking lot this wild woman runs up to my car and knocks on the window. I turn and look and I'll be damned if it isn't my best friend, Lynae!! No, we didn't do that girlie squeal thing that is so fricken annoying. She and her oldest were headed home after a cub scout tour of the police station and had stopped at the store to get sodas. We chitchatted for awhile and made tentative plans for Saturday night. Don't know if ya'll remember, but Lynae is the one who I went out with about a month ago. My world-problem solving buddy. Yeah, that one. :) So anyway I'm really hoping her shithead hubby *gag* doesn't make it impossible for us to go out Sat night. Have no clue what we're gonna do but by God we're gonna do something. Actually, with Lynae it's kinda pointless to decide what we're gonna do, cuz we never end up actually doing what we've planned. We just sort of go with the flow. It works better that way. I do know one thing though, I'm sticking some OFF in my car in case we end up at the lake again. Those mosquitos out there are ruthless.

About being old .. I realize that logically I'm not. I mean, 87 is old, right? But come October 28, I'm going to slip from being 35 to being 36 and I just have a real problem with that for some reason. Probably because to me it signals a downhill slide. I just can't be 36. I promise that I just graduated from highschool a month ago. I'm almost sure of it. I think. When I turned 30 I had no problems at all with it. Of course I was a week away from having Kimo so I was preoccupied, but still, 30 was doable. But phuck, 36 isn't an age. It's a damn measurement. Yeah yeah, age is a number and I'm not hung up on numbers. Really I'm not. What I'm hung up on is other people's perceptions of those numbers. 36 isn't sexy. 36-year-old women are, according to societal norms, responsible, in control, confident. Not sultry, gorgeous, super charged sexy. Bleh. So, what am I going to do about turning 36? I'm not. I figure lots of women lie about their ages, why not start now? Hmm, cuz I don't lie well? Yeah. That's a good reason. Ok I got it. I'll just be evasive.

Nosy person: So bisa, how old are you?

bisa: < impish grin > I'm ageless. < /impish grin >

How's that? It's not a lie. I am. My age changes according to my mood. Sometimes I'm 84 and sometimes I'm 4. Yeah, works for me too.

I've gotten so addicted already to diaryland survivor it's not even funny. I have my favorites picked out and even have an idea who should go first. Nope, I'm not sharing either with ya'll. Go check it out for yourselves.

Geeze, I've been writing for over an hour now. Sorry for the humongous entry. Told ya I'm wired. LOL

Time to go wake the monsters~~
bisa

What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say. - Ralph Waldo Emerson


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