It would be an understatement to say that I have neglected Xanga lately. I think I've done only two posts this summer, one of which wasn't even a post. I am sorry about that...I'm pretty sure I've lost most of my readers at this point, but we shall see.

Anyway, I do have an excuse for not writing.

I got a job.

Shocking, right? And by this time last summer I had whipped up a post about how I am essentially unemployable after applying to several retailers at the mall. I did the same thing this summer, and I guess someone liked me, because I am now a sales associate at Aeropostale.

As far as jobs go, it's not horrible. I do a lot of folding and greeting people, and I am hard pressed to force customers into buying things they don't want. On occasion, I have to do the cash register (and I was right, I suck at it. A lot). My hours are shitty most of the time and I never sell enough jeans, but hey, it's all good. I get a 30% discount.

The only thing I really dislike is the customers. It's weird--I am generally a big people person, and I'm great at greeting, but so many of the people who come in are just cruel and rude and generally obnoxious. I wish I could post a list outside of the store telling people what they shouldn't do, because it makes them look like true assholes. It would probably look something like this:

1. If you are watching one of the employees (ahem, ME) meticulously folding a stack of polos, please do not pick up the stack, rifle through it like a pig digging for truffles, decide you don't like it anyway, and then take the stack, fold it like a giant taco and stuff it back on the table. This has happened more times than I can count, and I want to slap the customer every time.

2. To all tween girls: please don't stand giggling at the underwear table, picking up thongs and flinging them at each other like slingshots. You look like idiots and I have to pick up all of the thongs and rearrange them after your greasy little paws have been shooting them across the store. Why are you even looking at thongs, anyway? You haven't even hit puberty!

3. Please listen to what the associates are saying. I know that you want a pair of hip, embellished skinny jeans, ma'am, but we only go up the a size 13/14. No, we don't have a larger size. Yes, this is the largest size we have. No, I am sure we don't have it in another size in the back. Oh, and by the way, you're 40 and you're shopping for yourself at Aeropostale? This store is for ages 12-18. Get out.

4. When associates are working at the register and have your change all ready to hand to you, don't decide that you want to throw some more coins onto your payment. It's really fucking hard to figure out your "new" change when you dump a bunch of nickels and pennies into the hand that is already holding your 6 dollars and 37 cents in change. Someone did this, got pissed off when I was ten cents off, and then stormed off after saying in a snide voice, "Nice job. You're learning the hard way."

5. Above all, just be nice. It's hard dealing with difficult, cranky customers after I've been working seven hours without a break. Trust me, I want to get out of here, too, and your sniping at me because I don't have that clearance shirt in your size or those jeans are too expensive isn't going to help anything. Seriously.

I think these are reasonable rules to follow, you know? Just common courtesy. Do you guys have anything to add on? Does anyone else work in retail?

P.S. Girls jeans at Aero are buy one get one free! :D

I'm going to assume that none of my readers know what cold urticaria is. I actually didn't know about it until a few months ago. Well, I knew about it, but I didn't know it had a name. I just thought I was a freak of nature. So did everyone else.

But since I have urticaria, that means it is awesome. Right? Right.

So. Cold urticaria. It sounds badass, like I'm some sort of cyborg, or maybe a zombie-robot hybrid. But in reality, it's not that cool. In fact, it's weird and kind of a nuisance.

I bet you're wondering, "Wtf is urticaria? She's making it up."

Ohh, no I'm not. I just took pictures of it for proof. Be prepared. It's kind of creepy.

 
(there are a lot a lot a lot of raised welts on this patch, but they're hard to see because my arm is the color of a ripe red tomato.)




BAM.

According to Wikipedia, cold urticaria is an autonomic immune system response to a cold stimulus (read: my immune system is fucked up so whenever I touch anything below 75 degrees, huge red patches of welts spread all over my body). I rubbed an ice cube all over my arm to get those pictures, and that huge red patch is really itchy right now, so you better be grateful.

I remember the first time this happened. It was a snow day and I was six years old. After coming inside from romping around in the snow, I peeled off my snow suit and my gloves, which had gotten soaked and frozen. And, lo and behold, when I looked at arms and hands, I had bright red welts glaring at me from my blanched skin. It freaked me out, a lot. My mom was kind of confused, but since I was allergic to everything else in the world, she just chalked it up to being allergic to the cold.

Great. Allergic to the cold. Thanks, body, for effectively turning me into an outcast on cold days! I love you too!

After that incident, it just got ridiculous and extreme. I once sat on the linoleum floor of the gymnasium in 4th grade, and when I stood up, I had red hives creeping up my legs. I would put my elbows on my desk, and red patches would appear all over my arms. Swimming pools are horrible because no matter the temperature, I always end up with a red rash on my arms and legs and torso. Sometimes, when I get out of the shower and the water cools on my skin, welts will just pop up all over. It's fucking crazy, not to mention annoying. I can't go anywhere without bringing a jacket with me, because even air conditioning set at 60 degrees can cause me to break out in hives. I seriously look like a leper half the time. It is humiliating.

Which is why I think I'm going to start the Association to Cure Cold Urticaria and the Embarrassment and Awkwardness That Goes Along With It. It is a rare condition, but other people have to have it, right? And they are probably as humiliated and frustrated with it as I am. We can have ribbons just like they do for cancer, except ours will be white with red polka dots on them, to represent hives. We can have a parade in the middle of the summer on a ridiculously hot day, so no one has to worry about being welty--and if  by some chance someone does get welts, we can all have fun and play Connect-the-Dots on their skin, which is better than being stared at and being asked awkward questions. And all the proceeds will go toward buying sweaters and pants and jackets for all of the sufferers of this horrible condition, so they don't have to be cold and red and bumpy ever again. And that's just good news for everyone.

I long for the day when I don't have to worry about sitting under an air conditioner at a restaurant; when I don't have to swaddle myself in a towel after getting out of a pool to hide my skin. I'm sure that other sufferers agree with me. The day that cold urticaria is vanquished will be the happiest day of my life.

I just really hope it's not snowing when it happens.

So, do any of you by chance have cold urticaria? If so, let's start on those polka-dotted ribbons!