Whip It

"We deserve better villains." -- Bliss Cavendar

First and foremost, welcome to the New Year ladies & gentlemen! Did you miss me? Did you miss us? Sure you did. You have been gazing intently at facebook waiting ever-impatiently for either Kaka or I to give your lives meaning in this New Year by updating our blog and giving you something to do with yourselves. Either that, or you're bored shitless and you wanna know what's up. Well, are you in for a treat, sir, or ma'am! I am here to tell you the tale of my New Years celebration and to recount my adventures in sickland.

Josh is demanding I post

There are better pictures of Crater Lake available, but I thought I'd go with the one I took. Oregon is pretty!

I really don't have a lot to say lately. I'm enjoying my free time, which is nice, but whatever no one wants to hear about that.

So let's talk about today. So far I've done lots of laundry, made seven layer bars, tried schnitzel (so bomb and you guys, my boyfriend can cook. Score!), bought lottery tickets for the first time, and ran to an extremely overcrowded grocery store.

These last two got me thinking a bit, because they made me go outside. Well, I went out on the balcony earlier and it sort of started this thought process, but the attempting to accomplish things while not leaving Papillion really cemented it for me.

I need you to understand that while I live in Papillion, I rarely spend any time in it outside of the apartment. I had to Google to find the nearest grocery store, because fuck if I was going to Wal-mart for a can of creamed corn, and generally it makes me angry. So when you combine that with today's fairly dreary, wet weather, I'm reminiscing about Oregon.

In theory I really liked Oregon. It's really a beautiful state, but we lived in an awful town. Terrible. Really just craptastic. I treated it then like I'm treating Papillion now, I didn't bother to get to know it. Every time I needed to find somewhere I didn't go to on a regular basis (AKA home and school) I would get very frustrated, lost, and generally just feel pretty stupid. That's how I felt on the way home from the grocery store today. I got all kinds of lost in the shopping... thing. I don't know. I fail at mega parking lots in general and this was no exception.

So yeah. I'm thinking I should probably start actually getting to know Papillion.

Oh but it definitely feels Oregon-y outside right now, which was the other point to this.

I am required to say that I will get a Who recap together soon, but I don't think you really care.

So yeah. I posted. That should keep Josh happy for a day.

Dungeons & Dragons (2000)

"I'd have to put a 'feeble-mind'spell on myself to make me want to take *you* home" -- Marina Pretensa

Dear Blogbuddy,

Let me tell you a tale about my day so far. Keep in mind that as of typing these words, it is only 9:30 in the morning. Waking up at 1:30 on Tuesdays has its benefits, among them would be the opportunity to experience outrageousness early and frequently, which will only become more entertaining and outrageous as the day progresses, I assure you. I should explain that Tuesdays are an extra-long day for me. Specifically, because I need to be at the warehouse by 2am in order to process your DVDs that you send in on Saturday, because as Harry would say, "There's no post on Sunday." HP reference FTW. I wonder if I can make that a new thing, in addition to only using movie titles as the titles of my posts, I can sneak in an HP reference every blog post, I'd say I'd try, but I would no doubt fail, so I won't even think about it anymore.

At any rate, I never get enough sleep on Monday night, so I set aside a couple dollars every week to stop by the gas station and pick up a soda before work on Tuesdays. Lately, this has been ... rough. As I'm sure you read in [Katrina's Previous Post] we have some interesting characters to spend time at this gas station. If you ever want to meet them, it's the one on the corner of 84^th(Washington) and Cedardale Road. Luckily, Katrina only has to deal with crazed customers. I get to deal with the person who is so socially inept that he is banished to working the overnight shift at a gas station rather than hold down a real job. To describe this man as any one of the characters from 'Freaks n' Geeks' would be inadequate. Thankfully, my experiences with him have always involved a third person wanting desperately to get through the line and on with their life, and they've always been far less patient and infinitely less polite than myself. Regrettably, today, while already ten minutes behind schedule, was not so lucky.

I entered the empty gas station. I immediately bolted to the coolers to get my Mountain Dew, also known as the drink of the Gods, and grabbed the breakfast meat of champions, a slim jim. Placing my items on the counter and preemptively handing him my cash to speed the process, I tried to muster all of the non-eye-contacty-silent-urgency that I possible could, when he asked, "How's the weather."

How's the weather. HOW'S THE WEATHER?! It's 2 am on a Tuesday and you ask me, "How's the weather?"?!?!?!

"Cold," I respond.

"Lol," yes, he said those three letters, "Well, at least you get a few seconds to warm up."

He rings up my items and gives me a total and while holding my change he says, "I got accused of God-modding in my RPG group last night."

PAUSE. Feel that? That sinking shit feeling you just got. That overwhelming rush of sympathy? Yeah. Yeah. That's the feeling I would have liked to get. Instead, I went into panic mode. Let me make something very clear, I have played DnD. I still do sometimes. Not with any frequency to call myself a gamer, but enough to understand core rule sets, and to grasp the concept of the words he just spoke. Before I can stop him by exiting smoothly, he goes into a 15 minute diatribe about his character in ... wait for it ... a Star Wars Pen & Paper RPG. DnD is bad enough, but now you have to add a whole new level of geek to it by incorporating Star Wars, the next thing I know he's going to have his Magic: The Gathering cards and I'll be in high school all over again.

I strain to act interested, my soul dying bit by bit inside, when he finally says, "Oh geez, it's been a while. You have a nice day, buddy."

So, I go to work. You know. No. Star Wars PnP RPG is enough outrageousness for one post. I at least know that I am never going to that gas station overnight again. nope. No way. Not gonna happen. I'll never leave. I'll be stuck forever listening to him talk about his 'friends' and his character sheets. *shudder* I'll say this much, my shift at the warehouse, which normally lasts 5 hours went for 7.5 today. I nearly cried by the time I left. I've got shit to do.

Clerks

Death to Duct-Tape

"Hermaphroditic porn. Starlets with both organs. You should see the box. Beautiful chicks with dicks that put mine to shame."

As I'm sure you've guessed, I work at a local Netflix hub. I have to first and foremost admit that due to a number of NDAs, I can't share too much about any of the things I do to make money. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get bitched at for the post I'm about to write. While reading said post, remember that this is a personal blog, and the views expressed, while logical, and generally agreed upon by employees of your local hubs,are my own and in no way reflect the official stance, practices, and observations of Netflix INC it's parent companies or subsidiaries. That said, I hate at least 40% of the people who have a Netflix account in the Omaha Metro Area, or the Sioux Falls, SD area, or the Sioux City, IA Metro Area.

112,000. That is the approximate number of DVDs that are sent into the Omaha hub ever week. The hub is active and running six days a week. In a given week, I process approximately 12,000 of those DVDs. Processing DVDs is actually a very Zen activity most of the time. I return anywhere from 530 to 600 DVDs in a given hour and, on average, work between 18 and 24 hours a week. Of the 500+ DVDs I deal with in an hour, at least 100 of them piss me off. Another 50 REALLY piss me off. Then, another 25-50 make me want to kill you. For the most part, I'm a good sport about it. I laugh it off, and continue about my work.

Lately though, things have become more and more outrageous. From disks that are written-on with sharpies, to people and their bitchy notes, I am becoming more and more annoyed with the people in my city and the surrounding area. If you're a blogbuddy, which is my new name for people who read my blog on the regular, you will have seen my Netflix Damage Flow Chart not too long ago.

Generally, my complaints fall into one of three categories. First: Discs misaligned. Second: Bitchy notes. Third: Bad decisions.

Misaligned discs are discs that have been put into their sleeve facing the wrong direction. I know, I know a minor annoyance, but when your job is based entirely upon speed and accuracy, having all of your discs facing the same, correct direction saves anywhere from 2 to 4 seconds per disc. On top of that, you get the discs facing forward when they show up to you, so why not return the favor? Misaligned discs also cover the category of sleeves which have been placed into the envelope upside-down, or backwards. Every envelope has a little window cut into it. This window is where the big barcode should go. It's where the barcode goes when you get the envelope too. It's super easy. I promise. This again shaves anywhere from 1 to 3 second off of the processing time of the disc. The best way to solve this? Put your disc facing forward, and put the sleeve where it belongs.

Bitchy notes are probably the funniest of the things I have to put up with. They range from very simple notes letting us know that there is a broken disc in the sleeve, or  that they've put multiple discs in the sleeve itself. I can round this out very simply. Your notes are not needed. Your notes are not wanted. Your notes are not appreciated. Your notes create excess work for me and the other employees. Work that can be avoided at 4 o'clock in the morning by you not being retarded. Here's the deal. You get the disc in the sleeve, in the envelope. The envelope reads, clear as day, "Please do not insert anything other than DVD & sleeve in mailer. To report a problem, visit www.netflix.com/help" Do you understand those words? I sure hope you do. Aside from the obvious  fact that you have at least a basic knowledge of the internet, considering the fact that you signed up for an account online and add movies to your queue and rate said movies etc... writing a note is just passive-aggressive and obnoxious. If you'd already submitted the problem online, then the computer that sorts our DVDs will catch the disc and spit it out for a Quality Check. If you didn't report the problem, then if there is noticeable damage, one of us will catch it during the return process.

Other notes that piss me off are notes along the lines of the following. Let me make this very clear that these are exact quotes from notes I received TODAY.

"Cancel my account, I'm not home enough to use it."
"Add Appaloosa to my cue[sic]."
"Send me another copy of this DVD"
"Chapter 3 skips, there are fingerprints on the disc"
"This disc skipped. I want a credit on my acct."
"This movie was disgusting. I want my money back"

1, 2, 3, 4 : These are issues that can be automated online.
5 & 6 : These can be dealt with online, or addressed over the phone with Customer Service.

Either way, sending your notes only make us annoyed with you. In fact, we dedicate a portion of our breaks to making fun of people and the notes they've sent in. So, aside from being douchey, you're being made fun of and people don't like you.

Finally, we have Bad Decisions. Let me give you some examples. You know that sleeve taht you spilled coffee on, then sent through the shredder, and caught half-way through? Don't send it to me. It's useless. You know how you like to put your DVDs on the coffee table, where the dog likes to get a hold of them and chew them? Yeah, don't do that either. You know how you give you kid crayons and they colour all over the sleeve? Annoying. Oh yeah, remember that one time when you stapled the mailer closed? Don't fucking do that again. Staples are the bane of my existence. I could write an entire post about staples and the woes they cause me. While on the subject of alternative envelope-sealing mechanisms, don't use tape. Don't use duct tape. Don't use scotch tape. Don't use electrical tape. If you absolutely MUST use tape, use gaffers tape, maybe masking tape. DON'T USE GLUE!

Other bad decisions would include putting more than two discs into a sleeve, and more than two discs in an envelope. Seriously. if I get one more envelope with 6+ discs in it, I'll scream. Legit. SCREAM. more than three discs causes so much stress on the mailer, and increases the chances of a disc breaking en-route. Envelopes don't take up much space. You can keep them, I promise.

Other bad decisions would be putting the wrong disc in a sleeve. I can understand putting multiple discs in, sometimes shit happens. Today though, I got a mailer with eight discs in it. All eight discs were in one sleeve. NONE OF THEM WERE THE DISC FOR THAT SLEEVE! Seriously. If you know that the disc you're putting in is broken or wrong, do me a favour, put a big black X on the sleeve. It would save me about a million years in wasted time.

These things said, I appreciate those of you who don't fail at life. I love and adore people who use their mailers as canvases and showcase art for us to enjoy and share with our fellow employees. I love people who put their DVDs in the sleeve facing the right way, and the sleeve in the envelope facing correctly, without notes, or piss-stains.

Hell, I didn't even touch on people who smoke eight packs a day and infuse their sleeves and mailers with the stench of their cancer. I didn't even bring up the people who leave food in their mailer either!Consider yourselves lucky that I didn't mention the staggering amount of porn people 'accidentally' send in to Netflix. Or the number of people who put their personal DVDs into their Netflix mailers, or their game discs. OR their blockbuster discs. Seriously, people who have both Blockbuster Online and Netflix accounts somehow mix the two up.

I swear all it takes is a teeny tiny bit of common sense, and we can all be happy people. I promises.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

"It's astounding, time is fleeting, madness takes its toll."

It's Friday, the 29th of October. Kaka and Josh have decided that the only logical place to be, and thing to do on the Friday preluding the best holiday of the year, is the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at Omaha's historic Dundee Theatre. It isn't often that we have the opportunity to go to the midnight shows at Dundee. I usually head into work at god-hates-me-o'clock in the morning so it's not easy to get out late at night and catch a movie; especially one that requires plenty of lead-in and recovery. This is halloween weekend though, my favorite night of the year, so I feel like I *need* this despite having to go into work at 4 the next morning.

Kaka, that's Katrina to you, shows up at the apartment a little before 6:00 pm and we decide to get dressed. Half because I want to have plenty of time to do my make-up, half because I want to go shopping and get food before we go, half because I want to get some drinks before hand, and half because I just want to be ridiculous. We do our hair and make-up. I go light and understated because I'm very classic and demure and don't want to make a big deal. That is where the sarcasm ends, hell, I'm a boy in a damn dress. Not just a dress, an effing ball-gown I look like Frank & Magenta had a love child and then had sex with her. In short, I'm effing fabulous.

Miss Katrina dons a dress she borrowed from me, and her 'Gaga' blazer. The slit on the side of the dress is like DAMN, and the blazer was part of a fantastic Masquerade costume from back in May. We topped off her look with a pair of RealD glasses with the lenses popped out, very brad-chic. So we're dressed, we're looking good, feeling good, being all kinds of smexy, and we decide to head out.

We need to make a few stops up in this bitch 'fo we get on our way.
1: Walmart - I need new eyelashes and fake nails.
2: Home - To get Katrina's phone because it needs charged.
3: Goodwill - To show off and pick up long-gloves.
4: My Mom's - For costuming assistance.
5: The Old Dundee Bar - For drinks.
6: The 1020 - For more drinks.
7: McDonald's - For Bad-For-Us Foodstuffs
8: The Old Dundee Bar - For More Drinks again.
9: The Theatre - For the movie, duh.

We go to Walmart and make the heterosexuals uncomfortable. Keep in mind, we live in Nebraska, accepting that it is Halloween Weekend, we are still less-than acceptably dressed. I make my purchases, and Kaka gets what she needs,the whole time amusedly discussing the lack of comfort we're spreading through the store. It always brings me great joy to make people feel creeped out, it's like a game for me.

We run home, get Kaka's phone and grab my pink flask from the freezer. It's filled with some pretty intense vodka, and we collect ourselves for the lengthy journey into Omaha to Kaka's workplace, which isn't far from my mother's house.

Fast-forward. We meet the gayest man ever, which is a lot coming from me. We go to see my mother and her DOTM, then onward to say hello to my grandmother, and then to Midtown/Dundee. The BIGGEST LONG ISLAND EVAR was accompanied by a glimpse of a stalky hipster boy, but I don't want to get into him just yet. I'm going to let Kaka pick which of the characters we each get to talk about over the next few blog posts. I feel like this night was just too damn much to squeeze into one posting.

So the charactes and stories from th evening are as follows:
1: Imaginary Hipster Boy
2: Creepy Chimo-Farmer Dad
3: Big Mac (with cheese)
4: Red Shirts (they always die first)
5: The Show (of the rocky picture and horror varieties)
6: Sexy Copper with a Tape Recorder