Roxy, Mizz Rose

Today was crazy-ass crazy day at the old Red Bulls-eye Satan fitting room. I had a complaint lodged against me, for no reason that I can see. I had so many people look at me like I'd arbitrarily decided to make their day more difficult. Children took time today to practice being little bitches on a safe adult, adults practiced being assholes on someone they mistakenly think is required to take their bullshit. Okay, so I can't lean close and say, "You are a fucking pain in my ass and I'm thinking a bigot." No, I have to let my eyes say that. A half-smile and a slight roll of the eyeballs says plenty. Or coming to a complete stop, smiling wide and saying,"Suuuuure." to their stupid little requests.

I'm astounded all over again at how many people have claustrophobia. Here's a tip, asshole--if you tell me in a conversational tone of voice that you are suffering from this problem, if you try to, y'know, not *shout* it at me, or stamp your little feet, or give me a look full of challenge, I will show you to a large fitting room without question. If you ae obviously struggling--broken bones, back pain, pregnant, you are automatically getting the big room. But here's what you can't have, no matter how much you glare at me in hatred--you cannot go into the wheelchair accessible room because your ass doesn't need it.


I said NO

WTFuck? Why do people want that damn room? What the hell? The door opens outwards, that's *it*. That's the only difference between the family fitting rooms and the wheelchair accessible ones--that and maybe a foot more of space. *smh*

I'm leaving them in June. I intend to dedicate the rest of my life to painting tiny watercolors of kittens and flowers. Maybe I'll join one of those senior art classes, make little ceramic penis vases, maybe little ring dishes shaped like vaginas. I'm looking forward to it.

I was going to post about how while it's nice that everyone is happy about s11, it kind of irritates me too, but I read that post and decided to delete it because I already complained about stuff in my last post and I thought, "roxy, do you want to gain a reputation as a crabby old bitch who only posts to complain about shit?" and I thought, again to myself, probably not. I would rather be known as the happy, carefree spirit that I am...is that laughing? Am I hearing laughing?

(busting out an old school icon for this--younger days, lol!)

So it was my turn to get flamed at AO3, I guess. I don't want to make my stories only available to people with accounts, so you have to take the bad with the good, I guess. Granted, it's an old story and a bit over the top, but a piece of garbage? I'm not the best writer but I'm sure as hell not the worst. I've written some awkward stuff, but I've never, ever written a piece of garbage.

I got:that was disturbing and didn't make any sense at all. Hopefully your writing is better now, because this is not good at all, not only in regard of the content and charactarization, but the whole story and setting is an unlogical mess. Now I have to take a bath in holy-water clensing myself and washing away all that filth from this piece of garbage.

Thanks Pandora!

My opinion? Folks get bored and decide to go be assholes at sites like this. They know that comments like this can be hurtful and I think they do this hoping that they hurt someone, make them doubt themselves. They're probably pretending to be decent folks in public. Sites like this let them be the terrible people they really are.

This is the response I got to Paris, an old Clex story of mine:

Sicko writer. Yuk. :(

This was my response to that comment:

Non-con
Incest
Drugged Sex
Dubious Consent
Prostitution
Alternate Universe
Familial Abuse

Did none of those tags give you any warning of what the subject matter would be? At any rate, thank you for your articulate and concise review of the story.

Normally I don't engage these folks, but that just made me crack up--I'm reading my mail and I burst into laughter when I read that. And then, I got a little bitchy as you can see.

The story isn't the best, I'd be the first to admit it. Plus, it was written back in the day, when you could write stuff that seemed terribly naughty but is really pretty tame by today's standards. I didn't reread the fic--I don't think I could, I mean, it's really, really early fic! As the commenter put it, "yuck." No, pardon me--"Yuk."

If I'd posted it with the manip that inspired the story, I probably would have been able to save this poor person's eyes. :)

( like to see it? here it is! )

Trying to do that five things I like about me is giving me writer's block, damn it.

eta: got it! five things where I'm good and stuff

1. I love to laugh and I love making other people laugh.

2.I can be a nice person--really nice when the spirit moves me.

3. I'm a good mom--that was surprising to me, since I never liked kids but it is true, thank god, it's different when it's your own. She was a fascinating little person from day one, so she made it kind of easy to be a good mom.

4. I love creativity, in other people and in me. :D It's a wonderful thing, this ability to make people feel something, whether it's by drawing or writing or sewing or singing or gardening or any number of wonderful ways.

5. I'm a strong person--and I can fake it when I need to. ;D

I'm not tagging anyone, feel free to do it. But make sure to let me know if you have any naughty things you like about you.

You know how you come across a recipe for something you've eaten ever since you were a wee thing? Some dish that when you eat it nowadays, you're suddenly thrown way back when? So you're reading this--this *recipe* and you're all "WHA? THE ACTUAL HELL? What the *hell* is that a recipe for because it sure is not the dish we ate!" You know what I really hate? When folks do stuff like, I don't know--throw black-eye peas in a silver dish. Or healthy up those old time recipes and swear up and down it will taste just as good--even better. No hell no. Where's the fat? Where's the damn salt? Where's the damn TASTE????

I need to keep away from that damn Pinterst. But the SpN pins call me like sirens.

I'm really crabby right now because all we have is granola bars in the house. Some of us seem to think that's an actual exchange for cookies. But some of us are cute but insane. I really want a red velvet muffin right now.

See? This is me kind of writing.

I'm sure you heard about the scandal involving my employer, that whole thing revolving around theft of information and whatnot. Of course, being the deeply caring place it is, we were sent a script to give customers who called in a panic. Not real information, mind you--a script, which I attempted to render sensible in my position as fitting room attendant and stand by phone answerer when the real operators are, I don't know, smoking, taking a shit. In other words, I knew about as much as the average aloe plant. This I did all day yesterday, apologizing, trying to smooth over folks fears--you know, doing what the Corp wanted.

Imagine my surprise when a customer called this afternoon, apparently specifically to call *me* personally out as a liar because I gave her information that *yesterday* was good as far as I knew but of course this story unfolds in bits and pieces as time goes on--things change. Anyhoo, it was revealed to me that I am a lying liar who lies, maliciously and with intent to pull the wool over the eyes of hapless individuals of fine moral character. I tried to explain but she cut me off and invited me to go to hell, three different times, with escalating volume and inventive departures. I laughed, thanked her and wished her a good day and she hung up on me. I bet she misses the days when you could slam a phone down with vigor and make a person go deaf. I know I do....

People, folks, friends...our phone has called ID. Redial. You know...your mother was sorely tempted. but she's grown-folks so she let that bitch go. It wouldn't have been worth my job though there would have been some deep satisfaction, I'm sayin'.

What have we learned from this, dear my friends? That the internet wasn't the creator of anonymous asshattery. That being unseen on the phone will make you act like a motherfucking, moronic, loser asshole. I get that folks were scared and rightly so, but what the fuck is your local store going to do? Not much. Still, I was damn proud of myself for saying "Thank you," to this bitch instead of "fuck you." Personal growth, my friends. :)

You really need those summaries at AO3, because those stupid, fucking, smirky, *endless* tags tell you nothing.

Fandom shift time again. I see folks are slowly strolling away to the Brand New Thing. Sadly, once again, I'm not very much into the new thing, new thing being the Avengers. The only pairing I'm interested in there is Phil/Steve, and I don't even like Steve. *sigh* Oh well, say lavee. Kay Sarah Sarah.

Also, Dear SpN fandom, more Sam and Dean, a wee smidge less J2, more thinky future fic and a tad less BDSM porn. In conclusion, all you damn kids, get the hell off my lawn.*throws cats*