The Ice Palace

You know I never thought I would be writing a blog about how sad I am to be leaving the moving company, but my season is ending here. It ended a long time ago to be honest. However, much like an Indian summer that drags the heat into fall, I dragged out my time here several months longer than I should have. The owners don’t appreciate me, and there would never have been a future for me here. It was stagnant. I enjoyed my many hours of getting paid to game all day, but at some point even that gets old.

I only work Mondays and Fridays here now, so I never know what it’s going to look like when I come in. I don’t know what has been moved, and what hasn’t. I figure one day my desk will just be gone, and that will be it. I came in today, and walked into the warehouse that stored so many peoples belongings, and there were so many gone. Moved to a different location so the company could downsize. It was sad. I was here when all of these came in. I watched as one by one Tom our warehouseman would slowly and methodically take each vault of house hold goods and stack them just right. Now, I leave and it’s like magical faires come in while I am gone and remove them. I never see them go, just the dirty floor where they sat for all those years.

I think back to all of the guys who worked here, and how some of them became friends. I think back to all the laughter that was shared in this office, and this warehouse despite the slow economy, inept employees, and bad management. We were a family. I loved my job, and the people I worked with, and it’s all going away. I will never forget John my old boss, and my first day of work. I knew nothing and was left alone to try and save a sinking ship, I was scared, and excited, and I knew I was home. I will always have the scar on my leg from the tragic ski pole indecent. When I go to bed every night I will look at the silver lamps I acquired from a shipper when they moved and left them behind. I will always look at the red feather boa hanging in my bedroom and think of the guys who danced in from the warehouse wearing in and putting it on my desk saying that it reminded them of me. Good Times and good memories that I will take from here, I will leave all the bad in a little dust ball in the corner of the warehouse on my last day.

I find myself feeling this way about my new job too. I feel like I have started building friendships there. I feel like I am part of the family there too. In fact, today I miss that bunch of goof balls, even with all of the drama, and chaotic phones that I have to deal with, I kinda wish I was working there today, instead of here. I guess change isn’t so bad after all.

….Punch Rusty In The Face…Like a Bee!

OK so I do love my job. I honestly do. I mean where else can I sit around all day blogging, and listening to KMRL AND get paid for it? However, days like yesterday make me wanna listen to Gwar and punch people. Is that bad?

Rusty who we shall call…Rusty (cause that’s his name, YO!) is the senior guy on my crew. Not because he is a particularly GOOD mover. Or even because he is well liked by shippers. It’s ONLY because all the rest of the crew has either gone to jail, left or been fired. Therefore, he moved up through the ranks rather quickly in the last year. Now, he thinks his crap doesn’t stink…and let me tell you…it DOES!

Yesterday Rusty came into work with a pissy attitude, I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because he is 22 and has like five kids, and a lazy ass girlfriend who won’t get her driver’s license? Or maybe it’s just because he’s Rusty. Either way…when I am instructing him on his daily duties for that day, and he walks out WHILE I am talking…it makes me oh….I dunno kinda…hmmmm…BITCHY! I know you are shocked at this right? <—-that was my SARCASM font.

The day went on, and of course, “The Goof Troop” forgot to take mattress cartons to the job. You know…when Rusty decided to walk out…that’s when I was telling him what he needed. Soooo…they call me and tell me they have to come back for them. I grumble, but I pull what cartons we had. When they came back, I told them to take mattress bags out for the shipper. Rusty took SOME. They knew they needed larger sized ones on the job…and they KNEW we were out. Why he didn’t take what he needed when he was here? I dunno… so he called me and told me to find some mattress bags to fit (shall I pull them out of my ass? It’s not a magic ass you know)…Now…I said I would look for some…however *I* am the boss here. You don’t TELL me to do anything. I am now thinking the bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in my bathroom is sounding pretty damn good at this point.

Oh no…It gets better.

I am on an important phone call when the shipper from today’s job walks into my office and says the crew sent HER to come get mattress bags. I smile sweetly, put the important call on hold, and run out into the warehouse. I KNOW we don’t have any more, but ya know…lemme look again anyway. I ask my warehouse supervisor (who was busy checking off a military shipment) to look again. Yeah duh, we are out. I then explain to the shipper that the crew has shrink-wrap on the truck and can double shrink-wrap her mattress’ at no charge, but let me make sure they have enough with them. I call Rusty, and he yelled AT ME, that I need to go out and find her the bags, because he SAW them out there. (OK Genius, if you saw them…why did you not TAKE them) I explain we did this, and just to shrink-wrap the mattress, so I can get off the phone and get rid of her. Before I can even say, do you have enough shrink…the bastard hangs up on me? I wanted to drive to the job and choke him…but you know…I am lazy. So I pretend I am still on the phone, and smile, and tell the shipper that everything is dandy and she leaves my offices. I get on the phone with Rusty and discipline him and ask yet again, if he has enough shrink. He hangs up…OK whatever. I made a call to the owner and let him know I was going to kill Rusty. He said he would have a talk with him (yeah that helped LAST time), and please don’t kill him until the end of the day. (Did I mention I love my boss?) In the meantime…I lost that important phone call I was on cause my hold music sucks. *banging head on desk*

The day is almost over. My military shipment is almost unloaded and so far, it’s gone well, so I am not stressed over it. Then it happens. I knew it would...”The Goof Troop” calls, and needs…that’s right…more shrink-wrap. I was just about to say go to hell…when another guy who works here drove up. I sent him instead. Had *I* gone, there would have been bloodshed. Not Mine. Today Rusty came into work and didn’t say two words to me. It’s best. I am in a great mood. I had a great night. I want to have a GREAT day. I have my boots on today. It’s likely if he spoke to me I would snap and kill him, and stuff his body in a vault…We can make things disappear here you know…we do it all the time…I mean…you know…furniture. Riiight. My warehouse supervisor just told me he stays up at night thinking of ways to torture Rusty…we are a sick sick bunch of people here at “Idiot Moving & Storage.” Please send help.

…NO! Not voices in my head, well…never mind those.

I manage a moving company that I fondly refer to as “Idiot Moving & Storage”. Mainly because the crew we employ are idiots, but also, because the people we move are idiots as well. It works OK?

Yesterday I came into work after a 4-day hiatus from my job. My desk looked like a dumping ground for various paperwork, soda cans, and a deep sea-fishing schedule (WTF?). Why is it that when I leave, people touch my desk? Why does my crew have to THROW the paperwork in the general direction of the desk, and hope it lands? Why Oh WHY is it so hard to lay it in the basket designated for this purpose? They have plenty of time to wipe out an entire jar of candy in two days, but to actually do what they need to do; it’s like WORK or something…sheesh!

When I cleared the crap off my desk, my warehouse person sat down and talked to me about a visitor the owner had brought in, while I was gone. The owner had told him that the visitor was our insurance man. Someone else said it was the brother-in-law of the owner. Now…I ask you…who was this man? There is a little rumor going around that the new owner (of a year) has decided to sell our office. This scares me. New owners always run the risk of bringing in all of their own people and booting my team and me. I know I bitch about my job, but I LOVE it. I love the fact that I can blog, and read mail and plan my shows for Saturday’s Broadcast on KMRL. (You like the plug I snuck in there?) I love the money, and the flexibility I have in case one of my spawn are sick and I need to stay home. I love that I have free moving, and storage, and I can wear low cut tops to work, and it’s perfectly acceptable. I mentioned the rumor to our sales person; we shall call him “LarLar”. He scoffed at the idea, and said it’s not true. We shall see…

In other news, I have a radio show…maybe I have mentioned it. Mojoradiolive.com is where the cool kids hang out. Come listen to me on Saturdays from 12:00-3:00pm EST. This week is my first show and I will be playing a little bit of everything. I do take requests, so if there is something you would like to hear leave me a comment and I will get it on for you. I will be talking about a few topics…Come join us in the chat room too!

Today’s Mojo Radio Live Lineup includes:

Kittyn Kitsch. She does a talk show (when she has something to talk about) from 3:00-4:00pm EST.

Deathsquad. If you are a fan of Gwar…you will LOVE his show! He is on from 9:00-11:00pm EST

Ok, so as most of my loyal readers (all 2 of you) know, I manage a moving company in California. My crew is a joke. I don’t know how else to put it. I come to work every day and think wow, I have this kewl job, with this kewl boss, and I can totally sit here and blog, and play games all day and get paid for it….but then my crew walks in and I think about working at a local Taco Bell so I don’t have to deal with them anymore.

This morning two of my crew told me that last night they joined the semi-pro football team here in town. OHMYGOSH! These two are two of the biggest dumb asses on the actual planet. This will be total comedy.

Greg is a clutz. How in the hell can a clutz be a mover you ask? Well, he’s not a good one. He actually dropped a shipper’s washing machine off the walkboard once, and hoped she wouldn’t notice! He’s slow, and has probably never held a football in his life. Odds are this a futile attempt at trying to wrangle in women.

Then there is Rusty. He is cocky…and for no reason. When I tell him to go do something he looks at me like I am insane, and does it when HE wants to…yet…he never gets fired. OH the JOY! He is a smaller guy, and has trouble pushing a couch up a flight of stairs. I think once a REAL football player sees him on the field, he is going to make him a target. I give him two plays before he snaps like a twig.
Saturday the 19th is their first game…I can’t wait to attend the bloodbath! Mainly because I am evil like that…I WILL take great pleasure in watching “The Goof Troop” being batted around like a cat with a ball of yarn! Good times I tell ya, GOOD FREAKIN TIMES!

Gosh I love Football!

At some point in our lives we are all going to move. You may move across town, or you may meet that special someone via blogland, and move half way around the country for him/her. I have taken it upon myself to educate the bloglandians of the world so that when they call their local moving company they are prepared.

Most people don’t realize how a moving company works. They think that we just hire a bunch of beefy college guys, buy some trucks and roll out to your house load up and go. Well, Not so much.

I have created this helpful guide to moving:

~ Moving companies are locally owned agents for a major Van Line such as northAmerican, United, Global, Wheaton, and Allied. When you are looking for a mover call a mover in YOUR AREA. Don’t call someone in the city you are moving TO, as this WILL NOT save your cheap ass any money, and will not help your move go smoothly, in fact since your agent will NOT be local, it will usually cause more problems.

~ Any move over 100 miles is based on the weight of your household goods plus the mileage from point A to point B. This means an estimater has to come out to your house(ALMOST ALWAYS FOR FREE) and take a look at what you have. DO NOT call your local agent and ask for a “Ball park figure” because without seeing what you have…it won’t be anywhere close to what you will actually pay. If a mover won’t come see you, do you REALLY want all your stuff on their trucks? Don’t be a lazy ass, get a visual estimate!

~ PLAN AHEAD! In most cases you know you are moving well in advance of your move. Give your local agent as mush time as possible to come out for an estimate, get all your paperwork in order, and book your move. If you call me and ask me to move you from California to Florida tomorrow I will laugh out loud at your slacker ass on the phone, because yeah um that’s not going to happen no matter what van line you call. However, don’t call me in March asking me to book your move in August. You shouldn’t call anymore than 60 days in advance, as rates change frequently.

~ DO NOT complain about the price of the move, when it’s based on weight, and you own 15,000 VHS Movies, 13,000 books, and 2 gun safes. Have a yard sale you pack rat! Cartons weigh more than furniture!

~ If you pack your own crap, and it gets broke…Boo hoe….Listen to the professionals when they tell you to pack your dishes in dish packs instead of a Budweiser box that has sat out in the rain all night.

~ Check out the local agent you are moving with, if your ass is too lazy to drive by their warehouse and check out their trucks, their office, and their crew, then you deserve to get some broken down trucks, and crew. I actually had a shipper call me once thinking we had moved them(and we hadn’t…) when I asked what color the truck was that moved them(since they had no idea the name of the moving company that took all of their wordily possessions away) they said they didn’t go out and look. Dumb.

~ I suggest you keep in touch with your local agent as your move date gets closer, but just because you sold your table lamp does not mean we are going to drive all the way back out to your house to give you a new estimate. Trust me, it’s NOT going to make a difference in the weight of your shipment. Don’t call your agent 10 times a day, “JUST to make sure everything is still on”…It’s annoying, you have become a pest, and will be labeled a “FREAK SHIPPER”.

My Moving crew would also like me to include the following:

If you have pets clean up after them before your crew arrives, poop is NOT fun to work in.
(also keep your pets away from the movers, they are just in the way, NOT CUTE)

Clean up your trashy ass house before they get there. Your crew should not have to work in filth just because you live like that. (Why ARE you living like that?—GROSS)

Please pack your own sex toys…Your crew may laugh at the fact that your big giant black dildo is out on the bed, but they don’t want to touch it.

Be ready to move on your moving day…You should be packed, dressed, and prepared to roll when the crew gets there. They don’t want to see you in your Scooby Doo PJ’s Mr. Smith.

No your crew WILL NOT re-plant your trees at destination, move giant boulders, take your house plants, or help you drain your pool.

If people would use common sense(assuming they have it) when using a moving company their move would be a lot easier.
Any Questions?

Since I haven’t posted in a while and I am in a really weird mood, I predict this post will turn out to be some random rant about whatever happens to be going on in my life. If it doesn’t make sense shut the hell up, I don’t really care! Oh I hope Sergio doesn’t stop reading my blog because it’s filled with too much Venom! *giggle*

My JOB Rant: My new boss apparently thinks I have way too much office space, since the new office they are building in the new location is as big as a bathroom. I have more forms, colored paper(why I don’t know?), books, and even a fabulous word processor(HELLO!– Have you never heard of a computer?!) to now shove all in one office, that used to all be in two offices. I USED to have this office to myself and could pretty much do what I wanted, and organize it the way I wanted…Now Larry the moving consultant “Hangs out” in here Tuesdays and Thursdays. Don’t get me wrong he is a great guy, very nice and is the only one that has helped me with learning all the new stuff I needed to learn, but O.M.G. get OUT!! He takes up a lot of space with all of his crap, and now he is telling me he wants to move in a bigger desk, and his computer from the home office! WHAT?! NO! That means he would be here ALL the time, and that would take up more of the space I need! GAH! The crew actually has to do things the right way from now on, and they can’t handle it. They are completely retarded. When you leave your car, and you go into your house at night you lock your car, right!?! So then…Why is it so damn hard for these dumb guys to understand all they have to do is lock the truck when they get out of it at night? I check all the trucks when I leave for the night, that’s NOT my job, but I do it so that they don’t get in trouble. When I tell them they f’ed up the next morning they have the balls to yell at me! I have started charging them $1.00 per lock for every lock I have to lock at night. If they don’t like it, too bad go work digging ditches, that’s better suited for you. I have only made $1.00 so far, but I figure by the end of the year I will have enough to buy Jen a fabulous new pair of shoes for Christmas, or a cup of coffee at Starbucks…I haven’t decided yet.

My Love Life, or the lack of:
CTG, The Counter Top Guy turned out to be a flake. He may be reading this, but at this point I really don’t care. We never did get a chance to meet since he always had an excuse why he couldn’t meet me. Then he just stopped talking to me. I sent him an e-mail asking him to just tell me if he wasn’t interested…cause DUH that’s the courteous thing to do people!!!!!!!….and he never answered, so he goes into “The Pink Book” as CTG AKA Wussy.

CG has been around a lot more, but lately *I* have been the one not being able to see him. I passed up about 4 opportunities to see him this week alone because I valued my sleep, and didn’t answer the phone when he called. I didn’t hear the phone, over my snoring…But still…I feel bad. It’s not like he wants to have a relationship with anything but a train right now anyway, so sleep has a higher rank than he does. If I don’t have a real date soon, I am going to have to call “Woody” or “Randy The Wrestler”. What am I saying? I would never date a man with a bad comb…uh…er forward…cause it’s not really a comb OVER. Although he is super sweet and would prolly worship the ground I walk on, cause he is always sending me these e-mails telling me how great my feet are, and weird creepy things like that. Hmmm….Speaking of weird things, what happened to “Armored Car Guy?” He hasn’t called in a while…Maybe he gave up. Figures…

If you haven’t donated to The Red Cross for Hurricane Katrina Victims yet, why not? Why are you so damn selfish? MY SON is 10 and gave me his money to help my friends Tisha & David when they had nothing…what have YOU done to help someone today?

OK so on another creepy note my EX boss came in today and told me that I looked really hot today, and that I should do my hair like this every day….what the crap?….ok so I look hot and of course no one is around to see this masterpiece of hairdom, except the ex boss, a random salesman, and the morons I work with…*bangs head on desk*

UPDATE: I crawled into work today because If I didn’t take care of things, than really who would? I am now going to go find a doctor…this is crazy…I haven’t felt this bad ever. My mom says I should go to the hospital…maybe I will. Take care bloggers!

I feel like I have been run over by a truck. I was in bed all weekend with some kind of creepy flu, that I now believe has turned into some kind of sinus infection. I am sitting here at work, in a daze from all the drugs I am on, and answering the phone like a 5 year old with the sniffles. I hate it. Why am I here? I need to be at home, in misery in the comfort of my air conditioned apartment. With toilet paper that feels like flower pettles instead of the sand paper here at the office. My nose and eyes are all red and swollen. The dedication I have for my job knows no bounds!

OK I am sick, I may be dying of some crazy disease…so take pity on me and at least vote for my blog today please.

As most of my Blog-A-Fans know I work for a moving company. In my day to day routine I encounter a few weirdos. My former boss J. Boss refers to them as freaks. Now “Professor Garden” as I will call him, is one of my more interesting shippers. He’s not even moving with my company, so I am not sure why I have to endure his bad jokes, except that he is moving with our sister company and gets a discount on cartons here. Lucky ME!

My hours are 8:00 to 5:00, but I come in a lot earlier than that so I try and leave a little bit early in order to avoid the retarded people on the road, on the way home. This is fine unless of course some guy who is nearly dead, lonely and wants to tell me his entire life story comes in expecting me to provide quality customer service and run out into the warehouse and fetch him 24 boxes of various sizes. In his defense he did call ahead, so I was able to have them ready for him when he came in. That usually saves me from having to talk to people too long. This time, it didn’t. He came in and loaded up his car with boxes, gave me a credit card, and should have been ready to go…But he sat down. I have learned that when they sit down they are either going to have a heart attack and die, OR worse. They are going to talk to me about their move, why they are moving, what they did for a living before they retired, or how much they got for selling their house to some poor unsuspecting valley person. None of which, by the way, do I care about.
I looked at the clock, it said 4:30. This is only getting worse as he talks about how he used to be an agriculture professor, and has been all over the world.
(Thoughts In My Head: OK! That’s swell, now GET OUT Get OUT Get OUT!)
He starts listing the countries he has been to, slowly.
(Thoughts In My Head: OH MY GOSH! GET OUT!) Then he decides I need to know all about aquaculture…Where you grow crops in rows and raise fish in the rows between… (and NO mom I STILL don’t know where the water comes from!)

He also taught me how to grow tomatoes in and old tire. As facinating as that sounds….NOT! In the hopes that it would get him to leave I told him I would try that. I keep looking at the clock, he keeps talking…This goes on for another 20 minutes. He finally leaves, but I can’t lock up and leave because he is sitting in his car out front, and that would look bad. So I continue to wish him away. It doesn’t work. He sat there for another 15 minutes, doing what I don’t know. I don’t wanna know. I just wanted him to leave. ARGH! I drive home thankful I won’t have to see him again…I was wrong of course.

He came back this morning, to buy more boxes. Yes, folks he actually asked me if I had started my tire garden yet. I told him that perhaps this weekend I would try that.
(Thoughts In My Head: Cause I know where to get an old tire? Or even want to? I have soil, that works fine thanks.)
He actually gave me his address so I could send him veggies when I grew them. YEAH RIGHT! I told him I knew his new address since we were moving him there. I think that scared him, and he got his boxes and left. YAY!

Helpful Hint: If it’s near closing time, don’t go into a business and tell the people helping you your life story, cause I would bet a dollar they don’t give a shit!

So Jen B. Said I needed to post something new. I was sitting here thinking what could I post that would offend the most people all at once, when my office windows are suddenly covered in hot pink paint splotches. Wow, how did they know that’s my favorite color?

I just stared out my newly polka-dotted windows thinking “Was that Bekins?” (Bekins is the OTHER moving company in town, and they are not above something like this) When one of my movers I like to call “Thuggy” (Mainly because he just got out of jail and looks like a thug) drove up, walked in and started talking to me like nothing was different. I said “Don’t you notice the windows?” He turned around and said “Wow who paint balled you?” He’s a genius I tell ya! He left because he didn’t think his truck would look good covered in paint.

So as I go out to clean the window off… Because really who else would do it? I hear “pop! pop! Pop!” from behind me. I looked around and saw no one, but noticed that now the giant pillars out front were hot pink polka-dotted too! I decided to forego the cleaning, for fear of being hit with a paintball from some rogue assailant in the brush across the street from me. So I screamed like a girl (cause well…I am one) and ran into my office. I called the police, over an hour ago, and they still haven’t shown up. I am sure they thought I was crazy when I told the dispatcher I was under attack.

Dispatcher: Paso Robles Police dispatch blah blah

Debi: I am under attack.

Dispatcher: Um excuse me?

Debi: I work for *insert name of moronic moving company here* and I am being paint balled with hot pink paint.

Dispatcher: Do you have a suspect description?

Debi: Do I need one to have you come out? *sigh* Well I think it’s across the street in the residential area.

Dispatcher: I will send someone over to you right away.

Maybe in Police terms, “right away” means “when I feel like it”. I know what house it is now, because I watched out the window and saw them aiming at me, so I am not worried about the “perps” running away. I just don’t understand why it takes 3 cops to come tell us that the people in these SAME houses don’t like where are big moving trucks are parked, and I can’t even get one out here to save myself from certain paintball damage. Had they hit my car which is parked in front…and frankly they must be a terrible shot to have missed it…I would have gone over and driven the forklift into their back fence, while screaming something crazy like “This Is For Scoopy The Clown!!!!”

Something fun always happens on Mondays!

Well J. Boss is finally selling the moving company. That is a good…no no GREAT Thing!

He had someone in here before me that turned this company into a money pit. When that happened I think it just defeated J. Boss, and he hasn’t REALLY been a boss around here. I have had to do everything on my own. With no moving company experience, that is a lot of stress. but it got better. Now that he is selling the place I will have a new boss. We shall call him K. Boss. K Boss knows what he is doing, and is a hands on kind of guy, so this should be interesting. So far things have been going well, but I haven’t had much time to come up with creative blog posts. So I have yet another fun quiz for you! Jen B. and I will be going out this weekend, (That starts tonight) so I am sure we will have something blogworthy soon enough! Until then….