Sunday, September 16, 2001
Oh, well, if we're going to talk about food service nightmares (and I'm going to pretend we were, because my mind is starting to shy away from talking about the other thing)...
My first job was at a Showbiz Pizza, which was basically the precursor to Chuck E. Cheese, animatronic critters and video games and all. First of all, every single manager at said pizza joint was a fervent fundamentalist Christian; now, there's nothing wrong with that, but when it means that they play the same ten lame gospel-rock songs over and over and OVER all summer long, and leave scary-ass Jack T. Chick pamphlets in the restrooms to terrorize children, that IS bad.
Lesson No. 1: Families come to Chuck E. Cheese to be entertained, not harangued and terrified.But of course, the worst thing for me was my own, personal job. It was my duty to take the grubby handfuls of red tickets from whining snot-nosed children in exchange for various cheap trinkets and prizes. No big deal, if the child has less than fifty tickets, and her parents aren't hanging over her shoulder demanding that the child be given a QUALITY toy.
Lesson No. 2: You do not pay for QUALITY toys with grubby little red tickets.But there would be a couple of hours at the peak of the night when the counter was stacked three deep in whining, screaming, clawing, greedy children and their parents, all competing to get THEIR TOY next. Twenty of them, one of me.
Lesson No. 3: Sometimes, even Americans, even WHITE Americans, even white American CHILDREN, have to shut up and wait their turn.And then there were the teenagers who would come up with several THOUSAND tickets, to buy one of the big-ticket items on the wall. So I'd have to sit there. And count EVERY SINGLE ticket. And they'd always come up a thousand or two short, and then they'd whine at me.
Lesson No. 4: Nothing is worth playing five zillion hours of Skee-Ball for. Even less is worth counting ten THOUSAND tickets for. But if you're nice enough to the employee, she'll give you the item no matter how many tickets you are short, because she hates her job.And then, of course, there was the fact that enterprising children would go through the dumpster, dig out handfuls of discarded tickets, and trade them in for prizes. So I was required to take every single one of these grubby little red tickets -- tens of THOUSANDS of them, every night -- rip them all down the middle, and soak them in a huge bucket of water, thereby destroying the ticket and marking it as 'used'. Said bucket full of water and half-full of soggy red tickets must eventually be emptied. To keep the tickets from going down the sink and clogging the drain, the employee must put her hand in the bucket and hold the tickets in place while pouring off the water.
Lesson No. 5: Walking around with your left arm permanently dyed brilliant pink to the elbow is not sexy. It would take upwards of three days and three showers to get the dye off; when I worked five days a week, that wasn't happening.Oh, and I was responsible for keeping the salad bar filled up, for selling balloons, and for making cotton candy. Ask me how much time I had to do these things.
Lesson No. 6: When your merchandise employee cannot stop to take a bathroom break for five hours, she doesn't have time to maintain a 60-item salad bar. She thinks that making cotton candy is kind of fun, though.And finally, I worked up front with the cashiers. The restaurant was firmly divided into three social strata: the front, staffed with the older, calmer, more mature teenagers, who were capable of handling lines of angry people; the kitchen, staffed with true adults; and the drinks bar, staffed with cute, exciteable, fluffy teenagers. The managers encouraged us to bond with our section and loathe the other sections, to 'increase productivity'... through mutual competition and bad feelings, I suppose.
Lesson No. 7: It's easy enough to be loathed by perky cheerleader-types at school. It shouldn't happen in your job, too.(This is actually a mildly edited repost of a lengthy entry I wrote in Lex's guestbook, which acts as a sort of makeshift BBS for those of us crazy enough to post there. So, in essence, not only do I recycle blog content into my main site's library, I recycle other content into my blog! I am the Queen of Recycling! It may not be ecological, but it's logical!)
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 06:43 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 3 comments]Friday, September 14, 2001
Mom called!
Sure enough, her little tiny cruise ship was out in the Pacific when it all happened, and they didn't have anything but shortwave radio... anyway, she's fine, although in two days she's supposed to fly home from Seattle, so she may get stranded yet. We'll see.
But she's okay... Mom's a tough old bat, she is. She'll be fine.Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 08:10 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 5 comments]Wednesday, September 12, 2001
It's horrible. It is.
I think now is an appropriate time to talk about gallows humor.
Case in point: yesterday, right after the World Trade Center was hit, someone started an auction on eBay. The auction was selling 'one World Trade Center - some assembly required'.
eBay quickly yanked the auction offline, and good for them. But before they could, people had actually BID on this auction.
And you know what? I'm sickened, I'm horrified, I'm disgusted; but somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I thought it was funny. The kind of funny that causes you to laugh weakly and rub the back of your neck. And then, of course, I was horrified that I'd found it funny.
That's gallows humor. Policemen and firemen indulge in that sort of humor all the time, cracking sour jokes over corpses, making light of the dark. ANYONE in a high-risk high-pressure job can succumb to gallows humor. ANYONE in a high-pressure emotional situation can as well. And if this isn't high-pressure, I don't know what is.Do you know what that response is? It's this: I must laugh, or I will go mad.
How can we blame ANYONE for feeling that way? Please, please, if someone makes a tasteless joke, try not to scream at them. Try to understand that that's how they're coping with something that, at base, cannot be coped with at all. And sick tasteless jokers are a MUCH better response to the catastrophe than smarmy and earnest Nostradamus quoters, in my opinion.
I must be diverted, or I will go mad.
I get the feeling that if I was able to TRULY understand what happened yesterday, I WOULD go mad. I veer madly between hours in which I do nothing but read news, comfort friends, and rehash the events of yesterday, and hours where I throw myself into my work, desperately creating in an attempt to forget. I've had Painter open for hours, and MacWrite Pro too.
I need to write sappy stuff. I need to make people tell each other "I'll love you forever" and concentrate on tiny fictional details instead of the all-too-real Big Picture. It's how I, personally, am coping. I guess it beats tasteless jokes.
As far as the Big Picture goes, I've done what I can. I donated money, I made an appointment to give blood, I volunteered to answer phones at the local Red Cross, and now all I can do is keep my lonely net vigil and find out what else I can do. And there's only so much news I can really take before I snap, and throw myself back into fiction, into the lives of people who don't exist.I must be diverted, or I will go mad.
My heart goes out to everyone who was moved enough to shut down their websites in mourning. I understand why you were moved to do so; I definitely understand why people lost the will to be entertaining. Be well, take your time, recover, do what must be done. We love you, and we'll be here when you're ready to face the world again.
However, I won't be shutting my site down. In fact, until further notice, I'll be updating my site every time I finish something. Those of us who cannot help directly are desperate for relief from the feelings of helplessness that every new bit of news brings us. All I can do for the American people, after donating blood and money, is to try and provide some momentary diversion from that which promises to swamp us. It's not much. It's very little. But, believe me, I'm not doing this to be disrespectful to the memories of the dead Americans, or because I take this tragedy lightly. I do this because it's what I CAN do, and what I MUST do.I must be diverted, or I will go mad. Then come on in. I've put up a small mooncalf update. Hopefully it'll give you ten minutes of relief before you go back to the news.
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 06:51 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 10 comments]What could I possibly say that hasn't been said? What is there that I could possibly say that would be even the least bit meaningful right now?
Maybe if I was in New York, or in Washington... but I'm in Ohio. Nothing happened here. Sure, Pennsylvania is one state over, but that doesn't mean anything. About the only unusual thing I saw today was eerily silent Ohioans, all queuing up at local gas stations and very carefully not looking at each other. I spent hours trying to get in touch with the local Red Cross, though, and I couldn't. That's Ohio for you... people quietly doing what needs doing, even if they don't look at each other while they do.
I don't have the faintest idea what I think, or what I feel. I want to kill everyone. I don't want to kill anyone. I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm numb. But mostly, I'm afraid.
Hell, I'm more afraid of my own government than of the terrorists right now.
Mostly, though, I just wish I knew where my mother was. That's all.So I guess I don't have anything noteworthy to add to the day's events.
I'm down in my basement.
I'm not coming out.Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 02:37 AM EST
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[add your comment - currently 1 comment]Tuesday, September 11, 2001
For those of you who are checking online (like I am) to make sure everyone's okay in the wake of the plane crashes, yes, I'm fine. Pennsylvania is the next state over, but so far, Ohio is just scared, not hurt.
My mother is traveling today, though. I'm hoping that she's on the cruise ship or at her friend's house, and not on a plane. Unfortunately, phones are majorly overloaded, and cell phones more so, so I can't find out yet.
I also have a friend in New Jersey who might have been job-hunting in the city, and I can't get in touch with him either.Excuse me while I fret uselessly.
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 04:17 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 3 comments]Deep in the throes of unrequited love again... alas. You see, my own personal muse is the God of Useless Inspiration, and it always goes like this:
"And lo, the God of Useless Inspiration smote me upon my forehead, and yea, I was sore afraid; but it is not in him to comfort, or to soothe. For my god is a jealous god, of ominous mien, and he spake thus unto me: 'DO THIS, GODDAMMIT.'"
And I've got no choice. It doesn't matter what deadlines are looming, it doesn't matter what I was working on... once an idea takes hold of my frontal lobes, I have to exorcise it by creating it, or failing so miserably that the idea slinks off in disgust. So despite the fact that I have eight pages of original manga due by the end of the month, right now all I can think about is Ramsus... argh. Woe.
Of course, the last time the God of Useless Inspiration cracked me upside the head, I produced Star Ocean 2: Blowing My Mind. So it's... uh... generally worth the hassle.I can't really blame Him for Go Wyverns, though. That was his twin brother, the God of Blowing Something WAY The Hell Out Of Proportion...
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 05:06 AM EST
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[add your comment - currently 1 comment]Saturday, September 8, 2001
Oh, happy day.
Boyfriend's parents were in town for the weekend, so we took them to the COSI, the big-ass ultra-cool science and industry museum that lurks downtown on the Olentangy River. I got to play with a pair of testicles made out of black cloth! No, really! And a breast, too! But that's not why it was a happy day.
No, it was a happy day because, when we went into the COSI gift store, I found something. Something... wonderful.
I found... Shrinky Dinks.I haven't seen Shrinky Dinks in YEARS! It turns out that the rights to the product have been sold to this little dinky educational-toy company, so they're now being produced again! And not in those preprinted licensed-character sets, either... no, just medium-sized flat blank sheets.
For those of you who aren't familiar with Shrinky Dinks, they're these rough sheets of floppy plastic, kind of like paper in texture. You can draw on them with pencil and markers and stuff, and then you cut them out and put them in the oven, and they shrink down to about one-third their original size and turn into thick, hard, clear plastic. If you used colored markers, it looks like stained glass... they make great suncatchers and keychains and jewelry and buttons and stuff.
And of course, now I'm not EIGHT, and I can actually DRAW a little... I'm going to be making myself some SWEET Shrinky Dinks! Anyone want an 'Ashley's Butt' suncatcher? How about a 'Tiny Little Citan'? I'm gonna pull out my sketchbook and my lightbox and go to TOWN...
The company in question has a web site reserved, but nothing seems to be there yet... but hey, maybe in a few months you'll be able to get Shrinky Dinks too! Woooo!
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 11:49 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 4 comments]Thursday, September 6, 2001
Funky observation.
I love Steiner, from FF9. All of Vivi's absolute perfection aside, Steiner was my very favorite character. I have a real weakness for dorky characters, and brother, Steiner just redefines dorky.
Now, we know what Steiner looks like, right? Big round chin-heavy face, huge round oversized eyes with really incongruous fat eyelashes and relatively tiny pupils, wide mouth. Kind of froggy, almost, except frogs don't have eyelashes in my reality. Okay.A couple of nights ago, I was watching one of my new Lupin III fansubs. And it struck me: Steiner looks a lot like Zenigata. I mean, a LOT. They both have those big chin-heavy faces and the heavily lashed huge eyes and everything.
And then I mentioned that to Boyfriend, and he brought up Onsen-Mark, from Urusei Yatsura. Same damn thing! Big round face, huge eyes, pronounced eyelashes and everything.Is this a Japanese Archetype? Does Big Chin-Heavy Face + Huge Round Eyes + Big Froofy Eyelashes = Overzealous But Ineffectual Authority Figure? You know, the big wide eyes with the emphasized eyelashes do make them look kind of naive and clueless, despite their bulky adult figures. I'm starting to think it may well BE some kind of manga shorthand for "I may be a total dork, but I'm damned well serious about my job, which happens to be to stop you from doing anything fun. Good thing for you I'm so bad at my job. Oh, and I like you a lot, but I'm damned well never going to admit that, even to myself. Unless you get killed or something."
Even if it's not an official Archetype, I suppose that Onsen-Mark and Steiner could both be homages to Zenigata. Zenigata came first. Actually, there's an episode of Urusei Yatsura where Ataru and Onsen-Mark pretend to be Lupin and Zenigata... and come to think of it, Zidane IS a dashing thief to Steiner's mostly-useless palace guard...
Dude, I think that's it. Steiner IS Zenigata.
I guess that means Ruby is Fujiko, and Blank is Jigen... RIGHT DOWN TO THE FACT WE NEVER SEE HIS EYES! Marcus is Goemon! Well, okay, that's where the relationship kind of breaks down. Although I guess Freya could be Goemon... hmmm...Ah, well. Something to think about.
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 07:13 PM EST
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[add your comment - currently 7 comments]Wednesday, September 5, 2001
Just a bit of randomness:
In the past few years, I've had the opportunity to shop at two different brand-spanking-new just-built grocery stores in two different states. And in BOTH of these brand-new grocery stores, I got constant and severe static shocks. From everything. The cart, the handles of the freezer cases, my boyfriend, everything. At the store in Indianapolis, the electric shocks were the worst I've ever had... just touching the door to the milk cooler was enough to make my heart pause.In both cases, after about four to six months, the electric shocks tapered off and stopped. And I've never had that problem with older grocery stores, either.
I think it has something to do with scuffing over linoleum tiles... when the tiles are brand-new and shiny, they make you build up a nice charge. But then, after a few months of being buffed by one of those huge rotating buffing machines, the gloss wears down, and suddenly you're not getting any more shocks... bah, I dunno. It's a theory, anyway.
... what? I can't be profound and/or funny in EVERY blog.
Posted by Mie Tsukikoushi @ 01:07 AM EST
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