The Storm isn't over yet...
And more's the pity. It's Easter right now. I should be beside myself with joy at the wonderful holiday, the memory of what Jesus did for us. Yes, I remember. But...but...

Mom's giving in to Dad's constant complaints: we're going to lose our house. Taxes really did a number on us... Mom also informed me that her job has every right to fire her, because here in Texas (and I didn't know this), it's against the law to attempt/commit suicide. She was breaking the law in Feburary.
But, she told me, she has to get better, so she can take a second job (to pay for her medicine, among other things). Dad's retired, and it used to be, he'd say he'd take a part time job after this was done, or after that was done. And natch, when the time came, it wouldn't. He'd lay a guilt trip about how he isn't supposed to be a father at his age, how he isn't supposed to be working at his age, etc etc.
So Dad doesn't want to work. And Mom just isn't able to right now. Which means I should...

...and the thought just kills me. I'm having a hard enough time as it is paying for my car, my college, my bills. I just want to shake both of my parents silly, and scream, "Why are you being so unfair?!?" I just want to run away from it all and start over again somewhere else, on my own, without anyone depending on me.

But then I think about all the people I'd leave behind.

And while everyone else is happily discussing egg-laying bunnies or draping lillies on the Cross, I'm hiding in my room, not in tears nor in rage, but just...I dunno...

I'm fighting the storm. I've been fighting the storm all week. But it just feels like it's getting stronger instead of going away. And I'm clinging desperately to God, begging Him to make it stop, to lessen it, or to strengthen me, to remind me He is there.

......

There we go. I feel a little better. Not as much as I'd like, but I do feel a little better.

*whispers* Please, Abba, remember your Ginny. Please, Abba, remind her. Please, please, don't leave me now...

Ego Boosters
This is for everyone that I talked to tonight:
Shaun, Mitch, Desbreko, Kayla, Sara, and ...ah....was that everyone? Heh.
You all really made my night tonight. Thank you. *big smile*

Oh look, good stuff, too!
Heh, yes, Ginny does good stuff too. Nothing much at the moment.

Paid off my loan for my house on AC. I get my 2nd floor tomorrow.
Hit "No Life" rank today. Dude. *is happy*
Just glad to be home. Didn't have to work a double today. Which is good--I was about to sock Ron right in his head, too. >.<

LadyBaynm: *drop kicks her Rondomon plushie* Stupid spaz...
LadyBaynm: *leans against Shaun again*
OutlawStr857: you don't mean that
LadyBaynm: I'm still trying hard to make sure I don't fall back into my old ways....Oo;
OutlawStr857: *picks up plushy*
LadyBaynm: it's that frelling love someone so much it hurts.
OutlawStr857: *hands it to her*
LadyBaynm: *strokes one of the ears, stares at it* ...yeah...

Yeah....

Heh, tonight, Mitch and I decided that the higher ups of the OBs are gods and goddesses of Otakuology.
Also, Desbreko is the legendary Princess Zelda, but he's in denial about it.
Mu haw haw haw.

Today's Rondoism
"I love myself!"



I've been running in circles ever since the beginning of this week. Circles that are, in essence, a part of the vortex that's threatening to suck me back into my old ways. I write all this right now in a detached manner, but only because I've been keeping my mind occupied by "senseless things".

Today, Kelly, one of our servers who grew up with a "trust no one" attitude, was talking again about her diabetic spells. She was talking about how she wanted to stay away from people when she dipped into her bad moods, because she didn't want to drag anybody down with her during those times. She didn't like who she was in those bad times. It made sense to me.

But Ron just had to be listening. And pipe up. He interrupted her. Said, "I don't have that problem. I love myself! You know, it's people's own fault if they don't like who I am."

Stupid spaz.

I thought about that on the way home. It's not like I haven't heard that before, loving yourself. Sure, Ron may be hotheaded and a real jerk sometimes, but he can also be a gentleman, with clearly set boundaries. And it's because he loves himself, he's confident in himself. I'm so jealous...

If I were confident in myself, I could make friends easier. And I wouldn't be lonely, which would build up my confidence. But that involves being proud of who I am and what I do. Frankly, my schedule could be changed, and I could be making more of my time than I am. Which means getting out. But that means getting involved with other people. Of which I have little confidence. And it just goes in this circle, like a dog chasing its tail.

I wouldn't say I'm depressed. Just lonely, mystified, angry, among other things.

How does one go about loving oneself?

WIIGII

It's so frelling true. Don't tell me it's not.

For more "insightful insights", I suggest you visit It's Walky! in all it's glory. :)

Tonight
I wanted to rant tonight. To let it all out. Beh.
I held it all in. Bad me. I'm not going down this road again.
I don't WANT to go down this road again.
I wanted to talk to Sar about it, but I also didn't want to muss our first phone talk with stuff like that.

I'm fighting the storm. I'm going to stand against it. But I can't do it alone. I want others. But...well...I guess I'm learning I can't rely on others. Just God. It's just---ARGH! It's just frustrating. Achingly so. I want to go back to my old habits, since they seem so familiar and easy to slip into, but then...I don't want to go back to my old habits, because I want to break them. I want to keep going, and show the Lord that I can be given more responsibility, that I can act more grown up.

Meh...

Today
I'm still quite frelling mad about work. Not only are we down to one phone and the managers are not doing anything about it, my computer in the kitchen has now gone haywire. At least Ron was there today, so he called for someone to come to fix it. My guess is, if it had been anyone but him or Greg, they wouldn't have cared, since ToGo shows up on the other monitor for now.

I remember leaving today, and getting part of my attitude out. Ron was signing me out, thanks me (see, now, if Shannon, Chad, and Josh were a little more motivating like that, I wouldn't have a prob, I bet. Either that, or I'm spoiled. Heh.), and I respond with:
"Been a pleasure, as always."
He smirks at me. "Don't lie." (I guess he caught that tone in my voice.)
"What, you want me to be honest?"
"Go for it, darlin'."
"Fine, I hate working here and I can't wait to get a good job so I can get out of here."
He winced. "Ouch. Thanks. God bless you on your way."
That freaked me out. Ron's never said anything like that before. But then, he avoided me for the rest of the day.
Beh.

On the GOOD side, heh
I TALKED TO SARA (on the phone)! OMGosh OMGosh OMGosh!
(That was so l33tish, heh.)
But she totally perked my spirits up, and they needed it badly. We just chatted about anything and it...I dunno. I felt better after we did. I really did.
(Look at the English scholar go with her vocab! Whoo! Heh...)

Love
Indeed, love is a many definition word. Too easy slung around.
For example:

I love my God.
I love my mom.
I love cheesecake.
I love my dog.
I love my closest friends.
I love my mentors.
I love my darlin'. *smiles at him*

It's all different. Most of the stuff I've heard described could fit in several categories, which scared me when I was younger. See, I have had several older male friends (re: mentors) over the course of my life.
One day, in a fit of something akin to sinful horror, I asked my mother if I could love an older man without any of the "between the sheets" love. She told me it was possible. Which was a big relief.

Would I do anything for cheesecake? Probably.
Would I die in a close friend's stead? You bet.
Would I change myself to please a mentor? Most likely.

Here's what it comes to, for me: swearing yourself to one person (whether that is for all your life, or for the time that you swear yourself to, depends). When you would be that person's best friend, worst critic, best lover, like a parent, like a child, wanting to change for that person, but also wanting to help that person become the best they can be. It's a lot about sacrifices, too.

Constant thought is an iffy thing. Stalkers can do that as well as people in love. So love is a two way thing (that's a given). Real love is not about one person giving their entire selves up for the other, but about both giving themselves up to each other, and giving parts of themselves (physically, spiritually, what have you) that they would never give to another.

I could possibly be on the brink of love myself. Only a few times have I felt something close to the bottom end of this, but in the one case, he wanted me to give up myself without him giving himself up, and in the other, he wanted to give himself all up, but refused to let me give myself up.

Love is about growing. And becoming better people for it. Making others happy is a start, but helping them discover themselves as well as you discovering yourself...it's wonderful.

Have I rambled enough?

Shaun...
I...mmm...*whimper*...I hope you're ok. I really wish you had been on tonight.

Desbreko
ModManual. Blow up Biggoron swords. Weirdness. Heh, thanks for being on tonight, I needed the laughs. :)

Well, this is depressing...
I didn't get into the art show, nor did I get the scholarship.
Ron's got a good chance of getting transferred (we kicked @** today at the tour).
My ego took a major bruising all day today, and I just wanted to come home and talk with someone, anyone, on AIM.

......

And here I am all alone again. ;_;
But you know what? I'm not going to react like I used to. 'Cause that doesn't get anything accomplished. I'll just buckle down and wait for all of you tomorrow.

*sad sigh* Please be here tomorrow...

Stupid job
I am SO pissed off about the lengths that the managers went to look good today. I am so pissed off about all the corrupt little behavior that goes on at work, and it's allowed, because the frelling GM is involved! I am so pissed off about how I can't seem to do anything right around Shannon, the stupid wanker.

I am ESPECIALLY pissed off about how they aren't doing a damned thing about the phones.
Like today. Ron was making another check on the phone system.
Not that I knew. All that was happening on my end was the phone going ballistic. It rang all these weird ways that it had never rung before. It didn't register when I picked up a line. And I couldn't hear anything.
Ron finally got through.
"Hey, darlin', just checking the phone syste--"
"Our phones are so f-ed up now, it's not even funny!" I shot back. (I said the past tense letter f, nothing else. So no, I didn't use the word.)
"Yes, I know..."

I'm pissed. Can you tell? This means we're down to one phone (out of three). This means my business is going to die real fast. If people don't leave because they get offended by us not answering their call, then they are going to leave simply because they can't get through. Tips are already dropping. I'm getting screwed over by my f-ing GM because he doesn't have the (censored) budget to fix the frelling phones!

I offered to buy new ones myself. But they won't let me. We were supposed to get the ones from Skillman when they closed down, but we didn't. This is seriously irritating me to no end, and if they don't fix it soon, I'll have to quit--whether by their failure to accomodate the store's needs or by default when I don't have any business left.

(Shaun, where are you?)

To my wonderful other half
I miss you, Shaun. I wish I hadn't fallen asleep so early last night, nor go to clean my store tonight.
Please be on AIM tomorrow night. I don't care how late I have to stay up for you, just be here.
*hugs her Shaun plushie*
Love ya, love.

Chorus for the Moment
"Keep your head up, don't you ever let up
This storm will pass you, be ready for the next one

Hey little girl with the pressures of the world on your shoulders, don't say that it's over
I heard your prayers, just cast your cares
And I'll be there so don't you fear

Hush little baby baby don't you cry
Daddy's gonna sing you a lullaby
Everything's gonna be alright
The Lord's gonna answer your prayer tonight." (Tobymac, "Irene")

When life gives you lemons...
OK, the first part of this post I meant to put up Sunday; it's just that today's events reminded me to post it.

On Sunday, I was driving home, listening to "Surrender". The song basically talked about giving up everything to be with God. And in my happy little Christian mind, I perkly sang along, thinking that I could easily do the same.
Could you give up Shaun?
I froze. I realized the Spirit was talking to me.
Give up Shaun? I...no, not really.
It was rather a sudden jolt, and my brain rocketed to the case of Job, who lost everything, yet still believed in, still loved God. And I just sat in my car, and numbly admitted there was no way I could give up Shaun. Or anyone. Even if it were for the Spirit, because I've lost people before, and, well, it's hard. It really is.
(Don't worry, love, this has nothing to do with you, so please please PLEASE don't spaz on me!) ^_~ (That goes double for the rest of you, too. I'm not getting rid of anyone.)

'Well, onto what brought this post on:
Tomorrow is a big major day for our Chili's. There is an area contest going around for the best store, to see which one would become the next Manager-training store. As Shannon mentioned at the last meeting (a few months ago), being a Manager training store is a very high honor. For the past few days, we've worked quite hard to make sure everything is clean, neat, full, ready to go. Everyone that is working that shift tomorrow has been taken aside by Ron to make sure we know what is expected of us (frankly, I think doing something like this is a bit hypocritical, but that's a blog for another day.).
Ron took me aside today. Looked distracted. Numbly went through the stuff I should know, clean uniform, shoes, be on time, etc etc.
"Yeah yeah yeah, make us look good," I grinned. (I was still rather hyper--today had been an unbelievably fun but busy shift.)
Ron smiled, and, if hadn't been him, I would've sworn it was a sad smile. "You'll be fine. Just do what you normally do."
"I'll get my uniform set aside, make it all nice and clean and stuff," I giggled.
Ron half laughed. "You'll be so stiff, with all that starch in it."
We laughed.
"We pull this off, it'll be a pretty big honor," I said.
"Yup, Shannon'll love it."
Something about the way he said it formed this big block of ice in my stomach.
"Whaddaya mean by that?"
"Nothing," he murmured.
The ice block got bigger.
"Oh my...Ron, are you...if we pull this off, you're--you're gonna get transferred, aren't you?"
Ron stared at the wall. "It's a pretty good possibility."
Dead silence.
"But--but why?" I finally asked, quaverly.
"Ginny, stop it."
"Stupid Bryan," I said vehemently, getting hysterical.
"Hey, you do what your boss tells you to do."
"He can't!" I said. "He took James away, now he's taking you, too?!"
"Virginia--" he tried to half tease, finally looking back at me. I saw shiny eyes.
"He can't..." I said, my own eyes stinging. I wrapped my arms around his enormous neck. "You're like a second daddy to me."
He patted my arms, heaved a sigh. "And you're all like my own kids. At least, the good ones," he added, smirking.
"Yeah," I sniffled.
"Don't go screwing up on my account," he grumbled. "Be the best damn store tomorrow, you hear me? It's only a good possibility, after all. If even it does happen, it won't be for a month or so..."
"I hate Bryan."
"No, you don't," he snapped. "It's life, darlin'. Stuff like this happens." He got real quiet, then glared at me. "Oh, for crying out loud--we don't even know if I am gonna get transferred!"
I just stood there.
He half grinned. "Thanks."
I nodded. "Yeah."

Chance and luck has never really been on my side. But I'm not gonna let it get me down. I'm gonna do good tomorrow, I'm gonna do GREAT tomorrow, and maybe, just maybe, if I do the best possible, Ron'll get to stay. After all, there's still room for him to not transfer--and that's what I'm gonna cling to.

Melissa
A girl I've known at work for...ever, really. She's so funny and we talk endlessly. At least, every Tuesday (it's the only day she's here, anymore). She LOVES to tease me about my pin collection (10 chiliheads, 2 year pins, 1 Brinker).
"When we get up to heaven," I said, giggling.
"Yeah?"
"You'll see me and go PIN GIRL!"
We burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"You'll even have pins in heaven!"
"Little chiliheads with wings and halos!"
More laughter.
"And I'll dance around on the clouds, going, 'God loves me more than yoooooou!'"
Stomach aching laughter.
"And you'll be doing your trick--" she snorted.
"Oh yeah!" I can twist my leg up to my shoulder. I did it right then.
"What a DORK!" Melissa roared with laughter.
"You're just jealous," I giggled. "Ooo, look I can do my other leg, too!" I did.
Tears were squirting out of our eyes, we were laughing so hard. (Customers were staring, too, hee hee hee.)
"Just don't do both at once--"
"That'd hurt!" I agreed.

Melissa's awesome. She's going to be a surrogate mother started next month. Simply incredible. So I get to see her one more time next week, then she's on leave.
*whimper* Losing another one, so soon. Beh.
I am SO gonna be on AIM tomorrow night. I'm gonna need to just be around all you online peeps, tomorrow.

Last night
Fell asleep at 10pm?! Go figure. Oo; Which is actually a good thing--I'll be up past one tonight. Soooo...yeah, I won't be on tonight. See you all tomorrow!

Today
I leave you with a math pun. Ugh, hee hee hee.

Several professors were asked to solve the following problem: "Prove that all odd integers are prime."
Mathematician: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 is not a prime - counter-example - claim is false.
Physicist: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 is an experimental error, 11 is a prime ...
Engineer: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 is a prime, 11 is a prime ...
Lawyers: one is prime, three is prime, five is prime, seven is prime, although there appears to be prima facie evidence that nine is not prime, there exists substantial precedent to indicate that nine should be considered prime. The following brief presents the case for nine's primeness...
Computer programmers: one is prime, three is prime, five is prime, five is prime, five is prime, five is prime five is prime, five is prime, five is prime...
Professor: 3 is prime, 5 is prime, 7 is prime, and the rest are left as an exercise for the student. (Exactly. ~Ginny)
Computational linguist: 3 is an odd prime, 5 is an odd prime, 7 is an odd prime, 9 is a very odd prime...
Computer Scientist: 10 prime, 11 prime, 101 prime...
Chemist: 1 prime, 3 prime, 5 prime... hey, let's publish!
Measure nontheorist: there are exactly as many odd numbers as primes (Euclid, Cantor), and exactly one even prime (namely 2), so there must be exactly one odd nonprime (namely 1).
New Yorker: 3 is prime, 5 is prime, 7 is prime, 9 is... NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!
Programmer: 3 is prime, 5 is prime, 7 is prime, 9 will be fixed in the next release,...
C programmer: 03 is prime, 05 is prime, 07 is prime, 09 is really 011 which everyone knows is prime,...
BASIC programmer: What's a prime?
COBOL programmer: What's an odd number?
Salesperson: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 -- we'll do for you the best we can,...
Computer Software Salesperson: 3 is prime, 5 is prime, 7 is prime, 9 will be prime in the next release,...
Biologist: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 -- results have not arrived yet,...
Advertiser: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 11 is a prime,...
Lawyer: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 -- there is not enough evidence to prove that it is not a prime,...
Accountant: 3 is prime, 5 is prime, 7 is prime, 9 is prime, deducing 10% tax and 5% other obligations.
Statistician: Let's try several randomly chosen numbers: 17 is a prime, 23 is a prime, 11 is a prime...
Psychologist: 3 is a prime, 5 is a prime, 7 is a prime, 9 is a prime but tries to suppress it...

Lovely
My best drawings were rejected from the art show. Someone else got the art scholarship. I'm really starting to wonder if I'm cut out for art at all.
I came home tonight for some comfort, only to find Mom and Dad fighting pretty bad.
I might be on AIM tonight, I might not. I really should...just to talk to you all. But meh...let's see how the mood takes me.

Managers are insane
Have I told you that yet? No? Well, they are.

Today's example needs a bit of history first. So let me back up for a moment. When I first started working at Chili's, Mama said to use my real name instead of my nickname (Ginny). She said that more people would tend to remember me better. It worked for all of three weeks, during which I was having the trouble of learning how to do my job.
James (the GM at the time) called me into his office, then asked me recite the Chilihead way. I got all but the "have fun" part. To which he replied that I needed to learn how to have fun at work. (At the time, that made no sense. Work time is not play time.) This included me dubbing my name down to a playful nickname, thus the shift to Ginny.

Fast forward about 2 years. Few people remember that I was called by my real name, among those the dishwasher Marcos. He is the only one that calls me by my real name. A few days ago, Greg overheard him and tried to call me by my real name; I whirled about, threatening to "hurt" him if he ever called me by that name again. Only Marcos was allowed to. Greg agreed to respect that.

Fast forward to today. Marcos had gone home for the day already, and Greg and Ron were running around doing stuff. Greg stepped in for Marcos' duty, and started washing dishes. I bring some dishes back and he calls out (in a really bad imitation of Marcos): "Hola, Virginia!"

I freeze.

Glare.

"Greeeeg--" I said warningly.
"I'm Marcos now, Virginia!" he answered back, grinning.
"Marcos, no bueno," I shot back.
"But Virginia--!" he protested.
That's when Ron walked up.
"Who's Virginia?"
Greg-cos proudly points at me, while I am fuming incredibly much so. Ron eye-boggles me for a half a second, then gets this REALLY evil grin on his face (if you've seen Nicholson's evil doctor grin in "Anger Management", you know EXACTLY what I mean).
"Oh, Virginia, huh?" Ron smirks.
"Good grief," I mutter under my breath. "Ron, stop."
He grins. "OK, Virginia."
Uh oh. Manager rule #317: Never let managers know what irritates you.
"Someone's gonna die," I glare at them, then stop off to the ToGo station.

Oh yes, did I mention that we still have our headsets? So every three minutes, Ron's finding some excuse to call me by my real name. I stomp back into the passout, all manager fear nearly forgotten, and I glare into his face.
"Hi, Virginia."
Glare.
"Say, what's your middle name?"
"Like I'm gonna tell you!" I shot back.
"I could always go look it up," Ron grins evilly again.
Heather the bartender butts in at that point and manages to guess it out of pure luck. (You all know it already--just look at my OB name.) I nearly screamed in rage, I was so steamed. She admits to just guessing, and naturally, Ron and Greg are now having a field day with my full name.
"That DOES it!" I holler at the top of my voice. I point at each of them in turn. "Greg, you are gonna die. Heather, Ron, you're on my black list."
"Oooo," Ron mocks me in a girly voice, "I'm on Virginia's black liiiiist!"

So, to recap, managers are insane. End of story. ^^;;;;

To the world you may only be one person, but to one person you may be the world.