When consciousness is too hard

Are smelling salts still a thing? Because I think it's time for me to invest.

Tonight, I passed out for the...well, at least the fourth time. Is it bad that I can't remember how many times I've passed out? It happens kind of a lot. I thought I was over it, but apparently not.

At least I've passed out (fainted? swooned? had a fit of the vapors?) in a variety of interesting places. Tonight, we can add a boxing gym to a list that already includes 8th grade shop class, a London theater, and the Gap. To be more specific, two hours in to my first shift as a clothes bitch at the Gap.

There are lots of reasons why I pass out. The primary one is my dumbass thyroid which caused a lot of hell for a couple of years, though the twenty pound weight loss was nice (and scary). Tonight was a combo of that, and unfortunately, TMI ALERT! the first day of being on my period.

My fucking uterus was the problem at the Gap too. I had a couple of cramps, next thing I knew everything was fuzzy, and it looked like there was an abortion in my pants.

I'm sorry, that grossed even me out a little bit. Blame the fainting fit from earlier.

But you know, I've actually gotten pretty good at passing out. I mean, I warn people. At the London theater, I was with a girl I barely knew but when I felt my vision getting blurry I said, "I'm sorry Laurel, but I'm going to pass out now." I'm super polite. So tonight, I knew it was coming, got off the treadmill and had the trainer walk me to a seat where I could recover. I don't think I completely passed out (mainly because I don't remember waking up) but it was touch and go for a while. The most awkward part came after I had recovered a little bit. I had a water bottle in one hand, the other was holding an ice pack to my neck. And a one-armed man wanted to shake hands. It just wasn't happening.

But they were all super nice, and I assured them I would come back for a proper workout. But I won't. If there's anything I've learned from passing out, it's never return to the scene of the crime.

In which I rant, Part 2

So, fun fact. Or at least a vaguely interesting fact. I'm kind of an etiquette geek. I own a first edition of Emily Post's "Etiquette" and I have a whole separate "Advice" folder in my Google Reader. Local columnist Robin Abrahams aka Miss Conduct is by far my fave, while Dear Prudence is often borderline offensive but responds to such ridiculous situations that I can't help but read it. And Dan Savage is, of course, the shit. Love him.

Now, this is not to say that I'm a classy gal who automatically knows the right thing to say in every situation, or who can set a table for twenty in ten minutes. I'm definitely a little socially awkward, and if I had twenty people over, trust me, there'd be nothing besides a bag of chips and a cooler of beer. I just dig the advice columnists.

However, I DO think that people are owed some basic courtesy, and no group of people deserve more courtesy than people who work in customer service, the food industry, or any other field serving the public. They - oh, who are we kidding, this is totes personal - WE are the ones who serve your food, make your coffee the way you like it, don't raise our voices when you're swearing at us, and generally bust OUR asses to make YOUR life a little easier. I don't care that you drive a Lexus or make 200k a year, you quite obviously need my help. If you didn't, you wouldn't be calling my customer support line. And I CAN help you. I actually WANT to. I like my company, and I will gladly explain all of your policies and rules all the livelong day if that's what you want.

But at the end of the call, when I say "Thanks for calling, have a great day!" do you know what your response should be? "Thank you." Or, if you're feeling generous, "Thanks, you too." You should not say "Oh, I will," "Yeah, right," "No thanks to you," any type of grunting noise, or worst of all "Whatever." Really Mr Surgeon? That's your comeback? "Whatever"? Well, yeah, I went to middle school too, and let me tell you, you are a loser loser DOUBLE loser, as if, whatever, get the picture, duh. (Complete with hand motions!)

I don't know why this galls me so much. People are seriously horrible to me sometimes, but being told to go fuck myself really doesn't piss me off as much as telling someone something nice and then having them scoff. It's like when I tell someone I like their dress and they say "Oh, I think it makes me look fat." I mean, for fuck's sake, just accept a compliment you know?

And yes, people who actually work in the industry should be nice and polite also. I'm talking to you, bitch at Panera. Telling your customer "Don't look at me like that, grumpy!" is not endearing, it's annoying and will not get you a tip.

LOST and Harry Potter, or, I'm a wicked big geek.

So, did you know that literary sensation Harry Potter and television sensation Lost are EXACTLY THE SAME THING?!

You didn't?? Well, neither did I until I drank a little too much wine before the usual Tuesday night tradition of squeeing over Lost. Squeeing, or yelling at the writers. Or crying. Or all three. I mean, what the fuck. Sun and Jin?? What a terrible, heartbreaking and awesome scene. I mean, Jin was on my "Characters I want to survive the whole series" list. Yes, that was an actual list. And it happened when I was reading Harry Potter too. Obvi, Dumbledore had to die at some point. And at least one of the Weasleys, because that's just statistics. But no matter what, Ron and Hermione had to live. Harry was expendable. No offense mate.

See? First similarity right there. Weird list making. And blog posting....anywhoodle.

The thing is, they really do follow the same similar story arc. Our hero (Harry/Jack/other character who is way cooler than either of these guys) is flung into an unfamilar world (Hogwarts/The Island) where things are not quite as they seem (Voldemort and Death Eaters/The Others, Smokey, all that weird shit). In the end, a battle is fought between good and evil (Jacob/Jack vs The Man in Black/Locke). Since Lost hasn't ended, I can't say for certain, but let's assume that in the end, Good wins out. Tada, they're the same thing!

What? That's the plot of like, everything ever?
Sigh. Fine. Let's continue.

As Maria once said, let's start at the very beginning. Season One, Book One.

Oceanic flight 815 lands on Craphole Island, and suddenly Jack is thrown into the role of hero. Everyone expects him to be making decisions, which he does. He's kinda of a tool, but people seem to like him. When Harry discovers he's a Wizard and gets to Hogwarts, he finds out that he's actually super-famous. He's the JoBro of the Wizarding world. People think he's a hero. Neither Jack or Harry wanted to be a hero, but they end up fulfilling that destiny. Like all heros, they have adversaries. Jack finds himself up against Locke, and ocassionally Sawyer neither who like the way he's running things. Professor Snape hates Harry (for a multitude of reasons) but especially hates his little hero persona. If I was a geek, I'd throw some quotes in here as reference, but I am clearly too cool for that.

There are some other characters in there as well. Fred and George and Hurley are pretty good at providing comic relief and (spoiler alert!) end up becoming pretty important characters. Everyone, especially Boone, seem to hate Shannon but eventually we know it's just because he loves her and after that stupid French translation, she was almost useful sometimes. Oh hai Hermione and the troll! Hermione also was a totes stuck up bitch, but eventually she grew on us, and people loved her. Including Sayid. No, wait. He loved Shannon. They're so similar I'm getting confused!

In the first season of Lost, we find out that the camp has been infiltrated by an Other, Ethan. He seemed like a good dude, who just occasionally smelled like Garlic...what up Quirrell! No one suspected him until Hurley found out that he wasn't on the manifest/The Dark Lord popped out the back of his head. But after his terrible act of kidnapping Claire/trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone (Yes, I'm using the Brit wording so I sound more legit) he got his comeuppance and was killed. Vegence is beautiful!

Oh, and we found out that everyone has daddy issues. Yes Harry, that means you too. Jack and Harry, your dads are dead. Just...let it go, okay?

(to be continued...)

Post in which I rant

I love my job. I really, really, do. I'm the rare and lucky chick who got an fantastic job right out of college with benefits, decent pay, awesome coworkers and free coffee.

Can you tell that I'm trying to convince myself that I love it?

The problem with my job is that I have to talk to PEOPLE. And, I kinda hate people. I'm not bad at being perky when necessary, but there are just so many dumbasses in the world, and I get to talk to them all. I've been here for almost three years, so I'm used to it. But sometimes, like today, I find myself ending every call with a muttered "fucking dumbass cocksucker." And hope that my previously mentioned awesome coworkers don't hear me.

People from New Jersey are the fucking worst. I know plenty of lovely people from the dirty Jerz, but they know how to say words correctly. And -

-okay, have to interrupt myself. I was just on the phone with a customer. AND HE CALLED ME FUCKING MACOLE. People of the Universe, Macole is not a fucking name. It's just not. My name is Nichole, which is seriously one of the most common names in the world. How do you fuck that up? And it happens all the time. I get called Macole on at least a weekly basis. And no, I am not just pronouncing my name wrong. I checked.

And now I forget where I was going with people from Jersey. Basically they suck. As do people who don't speak English. And people who pretend to be British. And Canadians. Oh God, Canadians.

Why is it not six o'clock yet?

La post nasal drip

I used to think I was one of those people who never got sick. Or when I did get sick, it was with horrible, possibly life-long conditions like a spinal tumor or Grave's Disease. (True story)

But the past month or so has definitely proven that I'm as suscepitble to nasty colds and sicknesses as any one else. On Valentine's Day I was puking my brains out, last weekend was the horrible cold, and now, I have NO VOICE.

It's very frustrating because I essentially never shut up. I think people around me appreciate it though.

Beastie girl

I've decided that most of personality can be summed up by two sixth grade yearbook signatures:

Beast, have a good summer.

and

Do you think you read enough?

I'm a geeky Beast, and I embrace that.

Weirdly enough, I recently saw that Beast guy is on facebook. I'd friend him, but there's a reason he called me Beast, and I'm pretty sure it's 'cause I was a bitch. And possibly caused him to bleed. And chased him around the playground with flowers because he was allerigic to pollen.

Ah, childhood.

Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful

I know this isn't going to earn me any sympathy. It never has.

But I don't get zits.

And I do absolutely nothing to prevent them. I don't moisturize, or use face masks, or even wash my face. Every once in a while, I think I should start using that crap. Maybe it could make me prettier or whatever the commercials say. But I'm too lazy. I'm pretty sure I had some trouble with my T Zone during that whole puberty fiasco, but other than the occasional pimple, I have awesome skin.

But the thing is, since it almost never happens, when I DO get zits, it's like the fucking apocalypse on my face. I HATE it. Hideous red splotchy things. I'd feel bad for all you poor bastards with acne, but I'm freaking out over here.

And most of the time when I get zits, they are in SUPER OBVIOUS places. Right now, I have two on my forehead. One over each eye. Those plus my glasses make me some kind of six eyed weirdo. I'd take a picture, but I'm too hideous. Here's an approximation:

:shudder:

--

All right, confession. I wrote this like, a week ago, and when I woke up the next morning, my zits we gone. I know. My life is tough.

Also, although most people in the world will say that I look nothing like Evangeline Lilly one of those celebrety face matching thingymabobbers once said I did 'cause we both had side parts. Suck it, World.

Oh, and I realized last night for like the thousandth time that I'm a huge dork when I compared the Lost story arc to Harry Potter. But it's legit. For reals.