Don't do this. Do you know what percentage of fertilized chicken eggs hatch into live birds? Yeah, neither do I. I bet it's better than it was when that saying was relevant though. I don't even know how chickens reproduce, anyway.
So the figure of speech up there is in reference to the P/T position I posted about earlier. It's actually morphed into a F/T position (awesome!) through no fault of my own. The interview went as well as I could have hoped, better than any I've had to date. I've slowly come to grips with the fact that feeling good about an interview, however, can be a jinx. And I don't believe in jinxes. Hence my current dilemma. Either feel good about the interview, or begin to believe in jinxes. Damnit.
SO anyway. I had the interview. I'm filling out the official application now, I'm going to drop it off in a few.
What I will do is take this opportunity to suggest something to any other job seekers out there - I posted on www.freecycle.com about my need to find employment. The way freecycle works is simple - you either Want or Offer something for free. People in the community respond to your Wants or Offers, and you both benefit. I put up free home tech support in exchange for promising job leads. In addition to getting a few [leads], word actually got around to the person who interviewed me today that I had posted on freecycle. She said it was 'innovative.' I'll take it. But seriously, check it out, it's a great cause, especially if you need or need to get rid of baby clothes. Lots of baby clothes.
More to come about my life later. That's the nature of a blog, you see?
Au Revoir
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
No, Really, Thank You.
First things first, still unemployed. Interview for a P/T position on Tuesday, but hey, at least it's in IT. I'm seriously considering joining the National Guard, at least I could pay off my school loans in one fell swoop.
But on to the meat of the blog entry today: Giving Thanks. I'd like to first thank my neighbor. "Thank you, neighbor whose name will be omitted 1.) because I'm not sure I remember it and 2.) because I'm a coward and I'm going to call you a c-bag in it. Thank you, O neighbor! for training your dog to religiously shit in my yard, in the same place, almost every day. That Saint Louis Zoo monkeyhouse smell really appeals to me when I'm sitting on my front porch, admiring too the ubiquitous dinner plate-sized brown spots of dead grass in the yard from your other dog's awful piss. My wife and I just *LOVE* those. They really tie the yard together in a kind of "white-trash zen" way.
You are a c-bag.
Every time I mow my lawn, my faith in humanity to just *not be assholes* diminishes. I'm not sure by what measure, but it diminishes nonetheless. I don't want to be hyperbolic, either. I'm not even asking for much, not losing my faith in humans to *be awesome* or even *be polite* at all. Just don't be an asshole. Well, maybe next Sunday by some miracle of canine bowel movements the dog will have cut the duke on the other neighbor's lawn.
I almost launched into a metaphorical tirade about how our elected representatives in Congress are also shitting on our collective lawns, but it seemed like an abrupt departure from my cynical rantings as a neighbor. I think I'm just in a shitty mood. Glenn Beck's stupid rally was yesterday, and I've been spending about an hour fighting in forums and honing my rhetoric and logic. It's not going too badly. It makes me sad though, because it means that Glenn Beck's tactics are working.
Americans spend *SUCH* an inordinate amount of time fighting with each other about gay rights, abortion, and religion (not all mutually exclusive arguments either, lol) that we completely dismiss that glaring fact that 60+ year-old-white-dudes in DC golfing with lobbyists from the NRA-ILA and AFL-CIO might not actually have our best interests in mind.
And I like the NRA-ILA and what they stand for, what they represent. I don't, however, believe in their ability to have virtually unfettered access to Congresspeople. I feel like for every minute spent with "interests," those same representatives should be spending an equal amount of time with "people."
It's a kind of backwards idea, I know. The forwards approach is to realize that while we see the NRA-ILA as a group with limitless money and persuasion tactics, that we - the "people" have something the NRA (and any other corporation or interest group) doesn't - a vote.
Remember when a vote used to mean something? It still does. Americans have lost faith in "the system" and feel like their vote is wasted, because all the evidence shows that votes are wasted. We can't come together because we're so divided by a system we firmly believe is permanent. It's not. A third party vote is not a wasted vote. A vote for a dude who sucks less than the other dude: now that's a wasted vote. The third (and eventually fourth, fifth, and fiftieth) party will bring true change to the US. And I got a C in political science. It is remarkable to me, a guy who *never* got into politics, that I only needed a month of unemployment to let my mind roam and actually think about something other than my 45 hours a week. That 45 hours a week consumed me to such a point that I spent all my free time just forgetting about the 45 other hours. Now, I don't have to forget about anything, I am only looking forward.
Sam Adams said this in 1776: "If ever a time should come, when vain and aspiring men shall possess the highest seats in Government, our country will stand in need of its experienced patriots to prevent its ruin."
That's a very exciting notion. Also terrifying. The moral of the story? Keep your dog shit to yourself.
Au Revoir.
But on to the meat of the blog entry today: Giving Thanks. I'd like to first thank my neighbor. "Thank you, neighbor whose name will be omitted 1.) because I'm not sure I remember it and 2.) because I'm a coward and I'm going to call you a c-bag in it. Thank you, O neighbor! for training your dog to religiously shit in my yard, in the same place, almost every day. That Saint Louis Zoo monkeyhouse smell really appeals to me when I'm sitting on my front porch, admiring too the ubiquitous dinner plate-sized brown spots of dead grass in the yard from your other dog's awful piss. My wife and I just *LOVE* those. They really tie the yard together in a kind of "white-trash zen" way.
You are a c-bag.
Every time I mow my lawn, my faith in humanity to just *not be assholes* diminishes. I'm not sure by what measure, but it diminishes nonetheless. I don't want to be hyperbolic, either. I'm not even asking for much, not losing my faith in humans to *be awesome* or even *be polite* at all. Just don't be an asshole. Well, maybe next Sunday by some miracle of canine bowel movements the dog will have cut the duke on the other neighbor's lawn.
I almost launched into a metaphorical tirade about how our elected representatives in Congress are also shitting on our collective lawns, but it seemed like an abrupt departure from my cynical rantings as a neighbor. I think I'm just in a shitty mood. Glenn Beck's stupid rally was yesterday, and I've been spending about an hour fighting in forums and honing my rhetoric and logic. It's not going too badly. It makes me sad though, because it means that Glenn Beck's tactics are working.
Americans spend *SUCH* an inordinate amount of time fighting with each other about gay rights, abortion, and religion (not all mutually exclusive arguments either, lol) that we completely dismiss that glaring fact that 60+ year-old-white-dudes in DC golfing with lobbyists from the NRA-ILA and AFL-CIO might not actually have our best interests in mind.
And I like the NRA-ILA and what they stand for, what they represent. I don't, however, believe in their ability to have virtually unfettered access to Congresspeople. I feel like for every minute spent with "interests," those same representatives should be spending an equal amount of time with "people."
It's a kind of backwards idea, I know. The forwards approach is to realize that while we see the NRA-ILA as a group with limitless money and persuasion tactics, that we - the "people" have something the NRA (and any other corporation or interest group) doesn't - a vote.
Remember when a vote used to mean something? It still does. Americans have lost faith in "the system" and feel like their vote is wasted, because all the evidence shows that votes are wasted. We can't come together because we're so divided by a system we firmly believe is permanent. It's not. A third party vote is not a wasted vote. A vote for a dude who sucks less than the other dude: now that's a wasted vote. The third (and eventually fourth, fifth, and fiftieth) party will bring true change to the US. And I got a C in political science. It is remarkable to me, a guy who *never* got into politics, that I only needed a month of unemployment to let my mind roam and actually think about something other than my 45 hours a week. That 45 hours a week consumed me to such a point that I spent all my free time just forgetting about the 45 other hours. Now, I don't have to forget about anything, I am only looking forward.
Sam Adams said this in 1776: "If ever a time should come, when vain and aspiring men shall possess the highest seats in Government, our country will stand in need of its experienced patriots to prevent its ruin."
That's a very exciting notion. Also terrifying. The moral of the story? Keep your dog shit to yourself.
Au Revoir.
Monday, August 23, 2010
No news is not good news when you're unemployed.
Well on the bright side, I'm getting to know my new kittens pretty well. On the dim side, they're kind of bastards most of the time.
I have a large-format yellow post-it with bulleted items that I scribble down when I come up with a potential blog topic. The top one on the list is about cats, and since I started with cats not even thinking about the list, I'll run with it.
Ryan Kerrigan knows all too well that Gary Larson ( here ) knows what dogs are saying to us, each other, and everything ever.
If you didn't click the link, suffice it to say that every bark or noise a dog makes translates to "Hey!" Unbeknown to my conscious self, I've been training my kittens in a similar manner. In addition to the classic we're-going-to-squirt-you-with-water-when-you-do-something-undesirable training (vs. the "oh so inhumane" declaw), I decided in my wisdom to add an audible cue so that in the event we need to discipline one of the kitties and don't have a squirt bottle nearby, that perhaps the audible cue will substitute for the water.
So what do I say? "Hey!" Just like the Far Side dogs. I thought it would be appropriate. I'd say it works about 35% of the time in lieu of the water, if it's about 90% effective at getting their little cat attentions at least. Behavior training a cat is like finding a job, in a way. We get lots of 'opportunities' to move forward, but most of the time we just end up exerting a lot of energy for the sake of feeling like we're making some sort of headway.
I'm applying for what would basically be the best job prospect I've had so far, but at this point I've learned not to get my hopes up until I'm signing an I-9 or shaking hands and saying "See you Monday!" The job is a basic tech support role (which I love), but with training involved as well. Anyone who knows me (Mallory, since you're my only subscriber as yet) knows that I make an OK tech geek, but a much better teacher and trainer. I have patience, lots of patience, and a knack for translating heaps of babble and jargon into humanized, non-robot terms. I want to do this. I might have to buy a suit. I can't believe that at this point I don't have one. What am I going to show up to an interview in?
Why hasn't this come up yet? Oh, that's right... Employers don't f***ing interview applicants any more! I've taken so many placement/logic/aptitude tests wearing board shorts and flip flops, administered by outsourced corporations (Pearson VUE, etc) that really just don't give a shit about you or what job you might be applying for. It's ridiculous. I see people arriving to these places expecting to take the test across from the hiring manager, fully suited up, briefcase and resumes in hand. It's just sad. We live in a different time now. Employers don't want to conduct an employee search any more than we want to continue our job search. So what have they done? Figured out how to write a test that will narrow down the applicants statistically so they don't even have to choose.
I'm waiting to hear back from a potential employer (fortune 500, menial position), but I keep realizing that they may not even be 'hiring,' they just have a position that's constantly posted so in 6 months when they DO need an "Outside P Technician" they can call me, because I scored a perfect on their test. It's horseshit.
Do you suppose the big bad 'economy' is just a ploy by our government to get us all to join the Army/Navy/Marines/Guard so they can bootcamp and brainwash us? I bet there's a book in Powell's about that very topic.
Signing off for now, I've had too much coffee, need to run it off while I wait on an email that either says "Hey, come in for an interview in 5 minutes," or, "Hey, thanks but no thanks. Sorry to have kept you waiting for 5 days."
:)
Thank you very much for your time, I look forward to hearing from you in the fut....
Sorry, thought I was somewhere else.
Au Revoir~
E
I have a large-format yellow post-it with bulleted items that I scribble down when I come up with a potential blog topic. The top one on the list is about cats, and since I started with cats not even thinking about the list, I'll run with it.
Ryan Kerrigan knows all too well that Gary Larson ( here ) knows what dogs are saying to us, each other, and everything ever.
If you didn't click the link, suffice it to say that every bark or noise a dog makes translates to "Hey!" Unbeknown to my conscious self, I've been training my kittens in a similar manner. In addition to the classic we're-going-to-squirt-you-with-water-when-you-do-something-undesirable training (vs. the "oh so inhumane" declaw), I decided in my wisdom to add an audible cue so that in the event we need to discipline one of the kitties and don't have a squirt bottle nearby, that perhaps the audible cue will substitute for the water.
So what do I say? "Hey!" Just like the Far Side dogs. I thought it would be appropriate. I'd say it works about 35% of the time in lieu of the water, if it's about 90% effective at getting their little cat attentions at least. Behavior training a cat is like finding a job, in a way. We get lots of 'opportunities' to move forward, but most of the time we just end up exerting a lot of energy for the sake of feeling like we're making some sort of headway.
I'm applying for what would basically be the best job prospect I've had so far, but at this point I've learned not to get my hopes up until I'm signing an I-9 or shaking hands and saying "See you Monday!" The job is a basic tech support role (which I love), but with training involved as well. Anyone who knows me (Mallory, since you're my only subscriber as yet) knows that I make an OK tech geek, but a much better teacher and trainer. I have patience, lots of patience, and a knack for translating heaps of babble and jargon into humanized, non-robot terms. I want to do this. I might have to buy a suit. I can't believe that at this point I don't have one. What am I going to show up to an interview in?
Why hasn't this come up yet? Oh, that's right... Employers don't f***ing interview applicants any more! I've taken so many placement/logic/aptitude tests wearing board shorts and flip flops, administered by outsourced corporations (Pearson VUE, etc) that really just don't give a shit about you or what job you might be applying for. It's ridiculous. I see people arriving to these places expecting to take the test across from the hiring manager, fully suited up, briefcase and resumes in hand. It's just sad. We live in a different time now. Employers don't want to conduct an employee search any more than we want to continue our job search. So what have they done? Figured out how to write a test that will narrow down the applicants statistically so they don't even have to choose.
I'm waiting to hear back from a potential employer (fortune 500, menial position), but I keep realizing that they may not even be 'hiring,' they just have a position that's constantly posted so in 6 months when they DO need an "Outside P Technician" they can call me, because I scored a perfect on their test. It's horseshit.
Do you suppose the big bad 'economy' is just a ploy by our government to get us all to join the Army/Navy/Marines/Guard so they can bootcamp and brainwash us? I bet there's a book in Powell's about that very topic.
Signing off for now, I've had too much coffee, need to run it off while I wait on an email that either says "Hey, come in for an interview in 5 minutes," or, "Hey, thanks but no thanks. Sorry to have kept you waiting for 5 days."
:)
Thank you very much for your time, I look forward to hearing from you in the fut....
Sorry, thought I was somewhere else.
Au Revoir~
E
Thursday, August 19, 2010
First One
Well, here we are. Since when did choosing a font become so difficult? I'm really an Elephant guy myself, but they don't have it, so I'm settling for Georgia. I understand it's my job to keep blog posts somewhat short or concise, but I'm not very good at that. This will be my journal, available to all netizens for their reading pleasure. It's also for my wife, who has insisted upon its creation (on more than one occasion) so that we can vent our current frustrations with the ubiquitous yet undefinable *system* that governs our daily lives. Note to self - find thrift store (read: Goodwill) paperback dictionary and thesaurus for blogwriting purposes.
She is a new teacher in the Louisiana public school system. I am unemployed. (!)
I started writing a book in Word, then decided I should do things this way first. I can get (free) comments from readers (at least I think I can, I need to find out how to flick that switch to the 'on' position) and revise my stuff that will eventually become the NY Times Bestseller. I swear everyone is a Bestselling author these days (Joe Kurmaskie comes to mind, he'll tell you so, too. Yech).
Gotta pause to feed the guinea pig, he's whistling at me. I've been lax in my duties to sustain him. Also the feistier of the two kittens is pestering him. (One minute goes by.) So, he had already been fed by my loving wife, and the feistier (Thelma) kitty was curled up innocuously behind me on a cushioned chair. Turns out guineaman is just rambunctious today.
Anyway, the purpose of this particular entry is to catch you up on the goings-on of my (recently) married life, starting with the move to Baton Rouge from Portland, OR in a 1994 Buick Century Wagon, up till now (about 4 weeks).
Steve and I drove 12ish hours the first day, stopped in Salt Lake City for the night, then approximately 3 hours the next day, until the ole Buick's transmission utterly failed us in Helper, UT. We limped it to Price, UT, where we would spend the next 48ish hours twiddling thumbs, playing Boxhead (Google it, I dare you...), and playing drinking games to Mike Rowe's Dirty Jobs and Ben Bailey's Cash Cab. The Wagon was returned to us midday, and we drove straight through for 30 hours. Arrived Thursday night, and we took Steve to the airport to fly home to his loving wife and beautiful daughter on Sunday.
I've decided (just now) that I'll end this first blog, and will detail the goings-on of married life in subsequent entries that will be more focused, thus the reader will not be bogged down with particular subjects that may not be of interest (Unemployment, involvement with Teach for America, zombie outbreak awareness, etc).
So for now, thank you very much for reading. I look forward to your continued engagement in my quirky and unpolished approach to writing.
Au revoir.
She is a new teacher in the Louisiana public school system. I am unemployed. (!)
I started writing a book in Word, then decided I should do things this way first. I can get (free) comments from readers (at least I think I can, I need to find out how to flick that switch to the 'on' position) and revise my stuff that will eventually become the NY Times Bestseller. I swear everyone is a Bestselling author these days (Joe Kurmaskie comes to mind, he'll tell you so, too. Yech).
Gotta pause to feed the guinea pig, he's whistling at me. I've been lax in my duties to sustain him. Also the feistier of the two kittens is pestering him. (One minute goes by.) So, he had already been fed by my loving wife, and the feistier (Thelma) kitty was curled up innocuously behind me on a cushioned chair. Turns out guineaman is just rambunctious today.
Anyway, the purpose of this particular entry is to catch you up on the goings-on of my (recently) married life, starting with the move to Baton Rouge from Portland, OR in a 1994 Buick Century Wagon, up till now (about 4 weeks).
Steve and I drove 12ish hours the first day, stopped in Salt Lake City for the night, then approximately 3 hours the next day, until the ole Buick's transmission utterly failed us in Helper, UT. We limped it to Price, UT, where we would spend the next 48ish hours twiddling thumbs, playing Boxhead (Google it, I dare you...), and playing drinking games to Mike Rowe's Dirty Jobs and Ben Bailey's Cash Cab. The Wagon was returned to us midday, and we drove straight through for 30 hours. Arrived Thursday night, and we took Steve to the airport to fly home to his loving wife and beautiful daughter on Sunday.
I've decided (just now) that I'll end this first blog, and will detail the goings-on of married life in subsequent entries that will be more focused, thus the reader will not be bogged down with particular subjects that may not be of interest (Unemployment, involvement with Teach for America, zombie outbreak awareness, etc).
So for now, thank you very much for reading. I look forward to your continued engagement in my quirky and unpolished approach to writing.
Au revoir.
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