Sunday, September 21, 2014

Mr. Bailey

Well, I'm still going to community college.

That in & of itself has provided numerous ridiculous situations, but none of them have fully encapsulated the community college "experience" as one student in particular who is in my Trace Evidence class. On the first day of class this semester, he strolled into the classroom late, which is his M.O. every day. My instructor didn't use his first name, & only referred to him as "Mr. Bailey." Well, Mr. Bailey, a young man around my age, sat in front of me to the right, & multiple times throughout the period he would fling his arms back to stretch & almost hit me in the head; it was then that I noticed each & every one of his fingernails was about half an inch longer than the tip of his finger. During this first class, Mr. Bailey would interrupt the instructor to ask questions that didn't really pertain to the subject matter (in this case, since it was the first day of class, the syllabus). At one point he asked how many credits he needed to shoot a gun.


Over the next few weeks I learned quite a few things about Mr. Bailey, such as the fact that he procreated, wouldn't participate in group lab assignments due to being in a fugue state & wandering all over the classroom, & that he enjoyed coming to class high as a kite (this last one I learned the hard way, when I realized I had a contact high while sitting about 7 feet away from him).

But Mr. Bailey's finest moment came this past Thursday, on September 18, 2014. While it was a ridiculous day in many other instances (which may or may not garner a post of their own), the highlight was definitely courtesy of Mr. Bailey. We were doing a lab where we split into groups & tried to match hairs under a microscope. Since this required participation, Mr. Bailey wandered around the classroom, picking up random objects. On the other side of the room from where I was is a pulley that activates a decontamination shower, since this is a science lab. At one point I look over to where Mr. Bailey was & saw him walk right up to the lever, pull it, & release the water on himself. At first I just stared in shock, then turned around to look at the older gentleman who sits by me; he just stared back at me.

Then there was total silence from everyone.

Then laughter.


Mr. Bailey was so shocked/embarrassed that he couldn't talk & instead of going for the paper towels he tried to use a roll of paper (I actually felt bad for him about that). As he was leaving the room our instructor said, "Folks, this is why you don't do drugs."

And that's the moral of the story.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Just A Few Things

Today at work sucked. I came in & things were in total disarray. Tons of customers & things were just a mess. Plus, customers were pretty rude most of the night. But by the end of it my co-workers & I had gotten into a pretty decent groove & left about 15 minutes earlier than what the norm is.

Something that happened near the beginning of my shift though was my old manager coming by to pick some stuff up. I miss him so much. I miss my old store. I think in the longterm my transfer was a good move but right now I just miss how things used to be.

Also, closer to the end of the night, my old landlord came by. Definitely didn't need that at all. It just made me sad that I was basically forced out of his house, which was so reasonably priced & centrally located, & now live back with my parents an hour away. But I'm not bitter. Not at all.

On another note, school is going well. My former co-worker finally talked to me & I'm settling in nicely with my professors it seems. I did find out that one of them uses crime scene photos from local murders so I need to ask if any are of my aunt's murder. Because while I think I'd be ok reading a report on it, I think I'd be ok if I never had to see any photos of her dead. But that just may be me.

Well, I think I'm off to sleep. I'm working at another store tomorrow night so I need to be well-rested to show those honey boo boo's how it's done.


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

First Day

Today was my first day of class. For the first time in about 3 1/2 years, I had to actually sit in a classroom rather than try to stay engaged in an online setting. To be honest, I quite enjoyed it. One of the worst aspects of doing my Master's online was how disengaged it all was. While we had discussion boards that would force us to interact, there's only so much that will accomplish. Plus, it helps having the professor right there in front of you. Also I hated the thought of having my name associated with the cesspool that is Liberty University.

The first class that I took was Ethics & Community Relations. That's going to be about as exciting as an Ethics class will ever be. My night class was Constitutional Law. Again....about as exciting as a class about the constitution is going to be. But my afternoon class, the one I've been looking forward to the most: crime scene processing. We didn't do jack shit today but I'm so excited. There's also a lady in there named Queennez & I can't wait to learn more about her.

On a weirder note, there's a girl in that class that I knew as a teenager. We worked together at the movie theater & have been Facebook friends for a while; we've even been in communication since I enrolled in the program because I knew she was also in it. Guess what. Didn't even acknowledge me (not that I said anything to her but she's the more senior individual here. She should be taking me under her wing). Whatevs.

On a sentimental note, it's weird being back on that campus. When I stopped home schooling & went to the alternative high school, it was on that campus. I then took 2 years worth of classes there before transferring to Toccoa. So much of the campus has changed but in other ways it's still the same shit hole I remember. Some of the faces are familiar (professors, librarians, & janitors), but overall it's totally different. And I'm not some 17-19 year old kid anymore. Now I'm a 27 year old man-child living with his parents & commuting an hour to work at a damn coffee shop/bageleria. I've lived in 2 other states, graduated college, almost graduated graduate school, lost 2 grandparents, & lived with a roommate who filmed gay bondage porn in our basement. In some ways I feel like I've made several steps back by returning to community college but since the crime scene investigation field is one I'm actually interested in, this will hopefully be several more steps in the right direction.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Well Hi There

It's been a while, hasn't it? I thought I was done with this particular blog until I started listening to some of the music I listened to when I wrote regularly & memories started coming back. I just typed in "blogspot" in my browser & it immediately logged me in my account. Hey there, technology.

So what's been going on? Well, I'll tell you about my mess. I found a new roommate (or 2) & they were a hot mess. One constantly left the doors unlocked & was one of the most selfish people I've ever met. The other was a bully. We ended up getting broken into on New Years Eve last year (I would have been home alone had I not picked up a shift at work). The selfish one moved out & another guy moved in. He & my other roommate were like 2 peas in a fucking pod & I overheard them discussing trying to get one of their girlfriend's to move in. The only way that would be possible is if someone moved out (it obviously wouldn't be either of them). I took it upon myself to start looking for places that eventually all fell through. Unfortunately I had already told them I was planning on moving so the wheels had been set in motion. I ended up running out of time & had to move back in with my parents an hour away from work (& Raleigh, obviously). I was picked to help open a new coffee shop in Kansas City for 2 weeks around this time. And then I was asked to transfer to a new store that was trying out a new business model. That's where I am now. Commuting an hour both ways to work at a coffee shop while I live with my parents.

On the education front, I tried going back to grad school but the counseling field just isn't for me. While I might be a good listener & supportive of people in real life, I genuinely believe that being a counselor isn't my calling. Back in November I went by the local community college to get info on their Criminal Justice program & it happened to be the first day of spring registration. I took it as a sign that my calling was to be a CSI (I've been interested in that field since I was a teenager). So starting next week I'll be regressing from a Master's program to an Associate's program to find my vocational fulfillment. Whatever.

So there's that. We'll see when I update again.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

A Few New Storylines

Guess who's still alive!

It's me.

Anyway, I know my last few posts were kind of boring & mentioned how I was just kind of at the end of my rope as far as stuff going on in my life. The depression & anxiety were completely taking over & making me completely worthless. I still struggle with that for sure, but it's improved greatly. For one thing, I started taking a new anti-depressant. The one I had been initially prescribed a few months ago prevented me from sleeping & actually caused me to become so emotionally numb that I began cutting, which I had never done before. Luckily I was smart enough to not do it in a visible place & instead used a safety pin on the inside of my thighs. Anyway, I obviously got prescribed a new medication. However, this one makes me really nauseous & messes up my sleep as well. If anything, I think just pushing through & relying on my inner strength is what has made the difference. And even though you readers may not be Christians, reading the Bible has helped as well. So there's that.

So on another note, my new career/school venture I'm wanting to pursue is to become a crime scene investigator. It's appealing to me because I could use my attention to detail (being anal retentive) for good. I also wouldn't have to interact with living people a whole lot which is a humongous plus in my book. Now I just need to find a school.

However, what I initially came here to write about is something that has come completely out of nowhere. Of the 3 storylines I'm writing about in this post, this is probably the most entertaining, as well as the most sudden. You see, my job has started a new policy effective yesterday that any time two or more shift supervisors are working at the same time, only one of them gets paid as a shift supervisor. The rest get paid $1 less as a team member. This happens when the store manager is there as well, even if he's just in the back doing admin stuff. When I found out I flipped. The main reason for this is because when I was hired, I was told I would be making a certain amount because of my customer service experience. That ended up not happening, but whatever. Then I got my yearly raise of $0.50. Then I got my promotion which was $1. All of that is well & good, except for the fact that all of the newer team members have been hired at a wage that was much higher than I was (different management). THAT means that when I'm forced to be a team member, I'm making less than every single new team member, despite the fact that I've been there for a year & a half & most of the staff we have now has been there about 3 months. We are all majorly pissed because it's like we're being punished for doing our jobs well. Even yesterday I had to clock in as a team member for 15 minutes because the manager was there for a little bit after me. I said to him, & I quote, "This is so fucking stupid." I'm classy & respectful.

Anyway, since I fancy myself an activist & am kind of spiteful, I called corporate to get a better understanding of their logic on this. The woman I spoke to (who I've talked to before) said that it was to allow shift supervisors to work more hours as team members, since it will cut back on shift supervisor overlap. Since our manager has been trying to be helpful to all of the new people he's hired by hiring them at a higher wage than the last managers did, it's screwed over his shift supervisor team. However, the HR lady said that we aren't required to work as team members. But that just means we'll have less hours total. So either way, we're screwed.

I was all gung-ho about finding a new job so I started a search today. Using a connection, I applied to be a part-time bank teller. I might also apply to some independent coffee shops &, as a last resort, Starbucks. 

Depending on what happens with a new job, I might quit Caribou. I also might stay & just work a few shifts a week as a way to get some extra cash. It all depends on where I get a new job, the hours, how much I make, & how some other issues at work end up playing out.

I should update more to prevent these really long posts.

Friday, March 9, 2012


I feel like I've literally run out of stuff to write about. Right now I'm just chilling at one of the Caribou Coffees in the area that I don't work at, busting my brain for ANY kind of topic.


I mean sure, I have a few things going on, but they aren't really the kind of thing I want to talk about on here. This was so much easier when I lived with Skidmark & My Giant. That shit wrote itself. I'm sure at some point I'll think of something to write about but right now, nope.


Sunday, February 26, 2012

The Craziest Man

A few weeks ago I ventured out of my depression to help Salem out with buying a van that he could then turn around & sell to make some cash. He had found this pedo-van on Craigslist (we all know how great my track record is with that website) & we made our way out near Fuquay-Varina to look at it. Salem said that the guy was really nice, & that he was even going to inquire about a job (the man owned his own refrigeration company).

Once we got there I was immediately put off because the man was wearing camouflage Crocs.
Like these.
He was incredibly manic, talking nonstop about anything & everything. He rambled on & on about how he beat up people in his family that were stupid with drugs. Did you know that he once hung his nephew upside down in a tree & shot at him? Well, he did. He also talked about almost every individual in his family & about how terrible they all are. Except his mother.

Then he turned the topic to the current state of welfare. Shit. I knew where this was going. He began to refer to black people as monkeys who were abusing the system. The whole time this was going on I just stared at the ground because really, what else could I do? He further proved his idiocy by referring to Michelle Obama as a "direct descendant of Tarzan's wife." This really bothered me, not just because it was offensive, but because it is freaking idiotic. Everyone knows that Tarzan's wife was Jane, who was British. White. That was literally the first thing I thought when he made that statement.

Salem ended up buying the van so we went inside for him to sign the paperwork. It was in his kitchen that I found some of the ingredients to make moonshine. Nope! We got out of there as fast as possible, with me driving Salem's car so he could drive the van.

Then Salem proceeded to get us lost for about an hour or so. And THAT'S what I get for leaving my bedroom.