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Dec. 5th, 2002 11:40 pmToday wasn't really all good, or all bad. Just sort of blah. Well, some good, and some bad, but it kind of evened itself out. This kid on the bus got on my nerves, on the way to work. I've seen him on that bus before, too. He goes to Merlo, which is the other magnet school around here, for science and math-focused students. I guess about a year ago they took my school and moved it into a building with merlo, and about three other programs. Way to kill any good reputation we'd managed to build, guys. I mean, they wanted to make our school look prestigious and shit, and then they decided to stick it in a building with fucking Merlo? Christ. They always had a worse rep than we did, even. Although ours got better, over the years. A lot of our bad reputation was just plain ignorance; before our school was started, there used to be a program for teen mothers in the same building, so you'd tell people you were going to that school, and they'd be all "You're pregnant?" and you'd be like "Sigh."
Anyway, so this kid was talking about it, and was bitching about how people treated my school different than his. Like "Oh, what's that? You guys need money? Sure thing! Oh, huh? Merlo needs money? For what? How much?[/suspicious]" I wanted to turn around and be like "Well, maybe that's because A & C has displayed actual talent to the public, in the past." Ugh. I mean, no offense to that school, but how many fucking national competitions and awards and shit did students from my school win every year? LOTS. How many from Merlo? I'm sure there had to have been at least one or two, but I rarely heard of anything. And the girl he was talking to was like "I thought of going there, once" and he was like "If you like math at all, don't." And, okay, it's true, we didn't have the greatest math teachers always, but whatever. There were plenty of students there who were really good at math. One of my friends there also helped teach college level courses in her spare time, so yeah. It's just that most kids there, like myself, excelled at the right-brain type stuff more. Doesn't mean that if you go to that school, you won't be able to get a decent math education. Hmph. Don't judge me, man!
Heh. I like how I get all riled up about that. Recognize, beeyotch! I heard too though that they're going to make the school into a 6-8 thing. What. The. Fuck. God, that just, ugh. What's happenned to my school just depresses the shit out of me. They fired my homeboy, Mr. Kaad, for crying out loud. Mr. Kaad! Bastards. Okay, so they didn't fire him, but they moved him to another school and had him teach the disabled kids, when he didn't even have any experience with that, nor want the change. B to the A to the S to the T to the, well, you get the idea. Heh. That was such a special, wonderful school. And they're just killing it. Changing it and taking away all of the sense of community and identity that it used to have. It's so sad.
Work went all right. They didn't schedule anyone to close in men's, but there were enough people upstairs and in our area to send a couple over. And we got out at ten thirty, with the place looking relatively nice. Peppy wasn't there again though, so I still haven't been able to talk to her about my schedule next week. And she didn't change it at all. I'll have to call tomorrow, and see if she's in, because I need to know what weekend to tell my Dad I'll be seeing him. Stupid Peppy.
At this short meeting we had tonight, the subject of phone orders came up, and Shelley was all "Just go to a register somewhere. . ." and I was like "Um, I've been told we aren't supposed to even touch any registers, and that the cashiers do the phone orders" and others were like "Yeah." And she said "See, what I heard is that you guys just can't go in the cashwraps, but you could go to draperies and mattresses, or shoes or something, or even downstairs." I said "Um, wouldn't it just be quicker to hand the phone to a cashier, rather than running all over the place? I mean, it's something done on a register, which is their job. Not ours." God, it pisses me off. First off? Like I said, it's not my job! Secondly, it's confusing and disorganized and stupid, anyway! Thirdly? I don't fucking want to be behind a goddamn register! Damn't. I suppose it would be okay, just to happen every once in a while, but I don't even know how to do one! And the idea of trying to find some spare register and figure it out, with people watching me and probably trying to get me to ring them up, stresses me the fuck out. Screw them. I'm asking the cashiers to do it. Fucking Sears.
Anyway, so this kid was talking about it, and was bitching about how people treated my school different than his. Like "Oh, what's that? You guys need money? Sure thing! Oh, huh? Merlo needs money? For what? How much?[/suspicious]" I wanted to turn around and be like "Well, maybe that's because A & C has displayed actual talent to the public, in the past." Ugh. I mean, no offense to that school, but how many fucking national competitions and awards and shit did students from my school win every year? LOTS. How many from Merlo? I'm sure there had to have been at least one or two, but I rarely heard of anything. And the girl he was talking to was like "I thought of going there, once" and he was like "If you like math at all, don't." And, okay, it's true, we didn't have the greatest math teachers always, but whatever. There were plenty of students there who were really good at math. One of my friends there also helped teach college level courses in her spare time, so yeah. It's just that most kids there, like myself, excelled at the right-brain type stuff more. Doesn't mean that if you go to that school, you won't be able to get a decent math education. Hmph. Don't judge me, man!
Heh. I like how I get all riled up about that. Recognize, beeyotch! I heard too though that they're going to make the school into a 6-8 thing. What. The. Fuck. God, that just, ugh. What's happenned to my school just depresses the shit out of me. They fired my homeboy, Mr. Kaad, for crying out loud. Mr. Kaad! Bastards. Okay, so they didn't fire him, but they moved him to another school and had him teach the disabled kids, when he didn't even have any experience with that, nor want the change. B to the A to the S to the T to the, well, you get the idea. Heh. That was such a special, wonderful school. And they're just killing it. Changing it and taking away all of the sense of community and identity that it used to have. It's so sad.
Work went all right. They didn't schedule anyone to close in men's, but there were enough people upstairs and in our area to send a couple over. And we got out at ten thirty, with the place looking relatively nice. Peppy wasn't there again though, so I still haven't been able to talk to her about my schedule next week. And she didn't change it at all. I'll have to call tomorrow, and see if she's in, because I need to know what weekend to tell my Dad I'll be seeing him. Stupid Peppy.
At this short meeting we had tonight, the subject of phone orders came up, and Shelley was all "Just go to a register somewhere. . ." and I was like "Um, I've been told we aren't supposed to even touch any registers, and that the cashiers do the phone orders" and others were like "Yeah." And she said "See, what I heard is that you guys just can't go in the cashwraps, but you could go to draperies and mattresses, or shoes or something, or even downstairs." I said "Um, wouldn't it just be quicker to hand the phone to a cashier, rather than running all over the place? I mean, it's something done on a register, which is their job. Not ours." God, it pisses me off. First off? Like I said, it's not my job! Secondly, it's confusing and disorganized and stupid, anyway! Thirdly? I don't fucking want to be behind a goddamn register! Damn't. I suppose it would be okay, just to happen every once in a while, but I don't even know how to do one! And the idea of trying to find some spare register and figure it out, with people watching me and probably trying to get me to ring them up, stresses me the fuck out. Screw them. I'm asking the cashiers to do it. Fucking Sears.
