On secrets

Everybody's got secrets, right? I don't believe it when my boyfriend says he's told me everything. Because everybody has at least one thing they don't tell ANYBODY.

I have a lot more secrets than that.

And lately I feel like they're all grabbing at me, trying to swallow me whole. But I don't know how to deal with them. I just keep shoving them back into the closet, like misbehaving skeletons.

Sure, I'm learning to deal with some things that happened in the past. They're still tender subjects, I've only ever shared them with one person. I'm afraid that if I tell people what happened to me back then, nobody would believe me. I turned out alright, right? But I'm realizing more and more that what happened then had a HUGE impact on how I behave now.

I didn't know it was wrong back then. I didn't realize the full extent of what happened untill I was in high school. I know that it was out of my control. Because, back then, I didn't know any better. I thought that was SUPPOSED to happen. And I'm still coming to terms with it.

For the first time ever, I'm at a time in life where I'm 100% uncertain as to where I'll be in a year from now. It used to be easy. I'd be in the next grade up. But now...I have no idea. I don't even know where I'm going to be living a year from now. I don't know how I'm going to afford school, I don't know if I'll be able to afford the next school I go to....

I don't want to stay at MATC. If I could, I'd drop out right now. I hate it so much. It makes me feel like an idiot for being there, because I always thought I was a notch above that. Its getting more and more difficult to admit to myself that I'm not above any of them. I'm one of them. And I hate myself for it, on a day to day basis. I wish that somehow I could go back and fix my mistakes. Because I feel like I'm inching back to that old precipice I used to dangle myself over. I'm afraid I'm going to fall this time.

A new chapter

Today was my official last day at Marshalls. I don't start at Starbucks untill a week from Monday (October 1st), so I've got a bit of transition time. Its kind of surreal, thinking that I'm never going to have to work there again. Its also very exhilirating. Because I hated it. Tremendously.

Okay, it's not a difficult job. It wasn't the actual "work" that bugged me so much. It was the people. And not only the people that worked there. The people that shop there. Ye gods, I hate Marshall's shoppers. First of all, is it REALLY so hard to bend over and pick up what you just dropped on the floor? And is it REALLY nescisary to follow behind me and mess up everything that I'd just straightened up? Secondly, I've never seen a discount retail store that had a bathroom attendant, that carried clothes and handed out numbers. (Oh hello, a number one or two? Three? Enjoy!) And usually, bathrooms have toilets and sinks in them. Okay, I'll give an older person the benifet of the doubt that they honestly thought that (both!) the large signs outside of the fitting room stating "FITTING ROOMS" really means bathrooms. Okay, so you walk past the attendant, and fail to notice that she's not doing anything bathroom-related. She's handling clothes. Okay, so you manage to get past her watchful eye without any clothing items to try on. Wouldn't one think that lack of toilet/urinal/sink fixtures would alert you to the fact that this is not, in fact, the public restrooms? No. People pee in there. They poo in there. They change their *ahem* "female sanitary needs" in there. And we get to clean it up. Seriously people. If its not a toilet, don't pee on it.

Another notice to the general consumer public: Cashiers REALLY REALLY hate it when you try to "help" them with their job. We dislike when you try to ring up, bag, and wrap your own items. If you feel the need to do all of this yourself, request a self-checkout lane. Its actually pretty insulting. You aren't helping us by taking off all the hangers and then just handing them to us in a heinous pile of tangly mess. You're wasting our time, and pissing us off. We also hate it when you slide a card, and tell us it needs to be a debit purchase, then stare at us. That one's all on you buddy, put your pin in. And when we ask "credit or debit" the proper answer is not "it doesn't matter". It is either "Credit" or "Debit". We are also aware that we do not have a button specifically for credit. However, every single store I've been to with one of those self-slide card readers is equipped with a "cancel" or "clear" button. This is usually the way to get to credit. Also, if you have just a plain old credit card, you do not need to inform me that it is a credit card. It's a Visa. Of course its a credit card.

Just because I'm a teenager (or an adult of the teen years, in my case) does not constitute that I know absolutely nothing about my job. I work there. I know what I'm doing. You don't work there. You don't know what you're talking about. When we say a certain item is a certain price, we're not lying to you. It also really irritates us when we spend forever checking for a price for you, bring it back saying "oh, its three dollars" and you respond "oh that's too much." What did you want? Free? 50 cents? Seriously, this book cost at least $21, publisher's price. (But that's okay, because I can then buy the item.) As much as we want to please you, we will not, under any circumstances, rip ourselves off to make you happy. I don't care how much you yell, or even if the manager caves and gives you what you want, we still know you're a theif. (And this is a little side rant, but we don't watch you "because you're black". We watch you because you're a known theif whos stolen thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. We watch everybody, black, white, hispanic, asian. You name it, we watch them.)

Children are not to be turned loose in stores. I don't know if you realize this, but in most cases, they are not well behaved. They steal, they destroy merchandise (rendering it unsellable, which may as well be stealing) and they destroy our property. Sometimes they assault the employees (it's happened to me). I can't speak for everyone, but I delight in yelling at your children. (Except when I scold and all I get is a confused look, because they don't understand English...but that's a whole blog in itself.)

I especially love questions similar to "Are these the only belts you have, or are there more somewhere else in the store?". We make it a point to keep everything together and well-organized. We think it is especially hilarious when you ask us if we have more somewhere else. Yes, we have a secret department in the back, with more belts/shoes/purses/perfumes. Let me take you to it. Yes, that is all we have. The shoe department holds all of our shoes. We do not have a special little shoe niche somewhere in the store. Trust me. We think you're stupid every time you ask.

Do not argue with us on store policy. We know what we can and cannot do. No, I cannot give you change once I've already shut my drawer. If you had asked maybe 30 seconds earlier, it would nt have been a problem. I however do not enjoy being harassed in both English and Spanish. It will not get you what you want. (And yes, I know what "puta" and "bendeja" mean. I did have spanish-speaking friends. They did think it was fun to teach me swears in another language. Besides, I speak French, and sorry, but the romance languages are very similar, and if you understand enough of one, you understand the basics of all.)

Wow, this has turned into a super long rant. I apologize. I hope working at Starbucks isn't this fantastically agitating. (Although Cedes told me they work her brother like a slave...something I'm not looking forward to at all.) I'm anxious to begin my new chapter in life, because sitting here doing nothing bothers me. I think this may be the first Saturday night (technically Sunday morning) that I don't have to worry about getting up early the next day. I don't have any plans tomorrow untill 3, when I got to the Mabon festival with Tom. Well, I should clean my room (Eric won't give me The Sims 2 untill its done...I feel like I'm 7) and there's this tiny issue of an English essay. Said essay is due Monday. I'm supposed to be doing it now, but y'know. Blogging puts me in the mood to write. Not to mention the 3 hours of math homework I have ahead of me...I better get a move on.

Thought-provoking

In my psychology lecture today we learned about forgiveness. It turns out, that if you hold grudges, your stress levels are higher, and you have a greater chance of becoming ill. Hm. I definately hold grudges. One in particular. Anyways, back to psych. My professor was telling us about two men who had been imprisoned by the VC during the Vietnam War. They were asked if they still held resentment against the VC. One man replied "Hell yes I do, those sons of bitches. I think about them every fucking day." The other said "That's too bad, because then they've still got you in prison."

I didn't take much stock in this at the time. Then I got home today and decided to look up someone I went to high school with on facebook. This person made my senior year a living hell, and you can't begin to fathom how much I hate her. So I looked up her account and sat seething for a moment, then searched her page in hopes something terrible had happened to her (of course it didn't. I saw her at pick n save a couple days ago. Anyways, she's a chronic lier, I wouldn't believe anything tragic happened if she said it did). And I realized, I'm holding onto this stupid high school rivalry.

I think part of my personality that I'm having a lot of struggles with is the part that's afraid to stand up for anything. Yeah, I've got opinions, strong ones at that. But 9 times out of 10 I'm afraid to voice them. I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose I'm a shy person (hell, it freaks me out when I have to order pizza) and that could be attributed to this struggle. It's happened to me many, many times. I'll be confronted and immediately back down. I guess I'm a doormat. I'll even apologize for calling people on things. For instance, I called a friend of mine on being a bitch and talking about me behind my back. Then I apologized for ever getting mad about it, even though I was still seething on the inside. Even with people I don't know, I'm a pushover.

Maybe that's the reason I was teased and bullied and demeaned so horrendously in school. I wonder why it took me 13 years to realize that I let it all happen. I sat back and cried while everyone had their fun. But why? I have no clue.

But anyways, back to the story. I think I realized today that I have to forgive her for every nasty comment she made about me, every dirty look, every rude behavior. I have to let it go. Because even now it stresses me out. I hate when people like that can get the upper hand. So, I've got to take the high road and just let it go. Forgive and forget, right? The problem is, I'm not 100% sure how to do that. Should I just mentally say "whatever" and let that be that? Should I message her and tell her that even though she was knowingly horrible to me, I forgive her and I don't think she's a terrible person? I don't even know what I did to make her hate me so. Well, I do. I was obnoxious. People hated me for that, I suppose. Which is why I'm quiet and reserved now. I rarely, if ever, voice an opinion in class anymore, because I'm afraid all the students will turn against me.

Why does life have to be so damned complicated? Why can't we all just...get along? Sheesh.

I'm average

Yes, my friends. Its official. I jumped on the bandwagon of hotornot.com last night in a fit of low self-esteem. I was hoping that I'd be rated super high and experiance an ego stroke close to orgasm. Unfortunately, I'm a 6.5. I did have one vote of 10. So I suppose that's good. Apparently I'm hotter than 61% of women on that site. I suppose that's good too. But its confirmed the sneaking suspicion that I've had lately: I'm pretty, but not HOT.

The problem is, I'm not content with that.

Meat? No. Burrito? No.

Its been a while since I've written anything here. To be honest, I've been busy, and I haven't really felt like doing it. I've had a few life-changes lately.

First of all, I started at MATC. I absolutely, positively hate it. Its like high school v. 2.0. Seriously. There are lockers in the hall even. To top it off, MATC offers no extracurriculars except the newspaper, and you have to attend MATC downtown to write for them. There's nothing, AT ALL. I hate my math class, because the teacher treats us like five year olds. My English class is okay. My teacher is pretty hilarious. During his lecture on Wednesday he stopped mid-sentance to ask "Is there a dog stuck in the ceiling or something?" (there was a dog barking outside). It was pretty damn good. And the class itself should prove challenging. Let's move to my Tuesday-Thursday class. Speech isn't my favorite subject, not by a long shot. But the people in the class seem pretty intelligent. My professor, Dr. Ruth (Ruth Cimperman, not the sex lady) seems like a nice person. I love my psychology class though. Dr. Magner is really cool. He's pretty laid back, and none of the course material is new to me. The only qualm I have is his lectures. But that's a different rant.

Life change #2: I got a new job! I've got one week left at shitty Marshall's before I start at...STARBUCKS! I'm really excited. I have a cool job title now: Barista. Except for some reason, Eric thinks I'm a burrito. (He knows, hes just trying to be funny.). I'm so glad I can finally leave my shithole job and start fresh. Although I'm working with one of my coworker's brothers. I went to school with him in freshman year, except I really don't remember him. Apparently, he hates me. We'll see how that goes. Because, according to said coworker, he's like that to EVERYBODY.

And finally, I'm a vegetarian. Or at least, I'm desperately trying to be. My mom doesn't seem to understand that "I don't eat meat" really doesn't mean "I want a hamburger". She's making it really difficult. I understand that she's worried about my protien levels and all, but sheesh. For instance, we decided that tonight tacos would be a good supper, because I could make mine with no meat. But she refused to let me buy the vegetarian refried beans, because they would "taste different" (Mind you, she's never tried them). So I had to eat the ones with lard in them. Disgusting. I'm trying to be understanding of my family (they WANT their meat, dammit) but really, I think its gross. I'm nearly at wits end and I've only been doing this for like two weeks. I'm *this* close to telling my mom to only make meals for three, and that I'll buy and cook my own food. Ugh.

Its been crazy.

I got a new laptop though. That's a plus. :)