Please never use these words:
Supposively (it's SUPPOSEDLY)
Alls (Alls I know is you are an idiot)
Scraping
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
I'm Lovin' It
Well, I'd like to formally announce to everyone that I am, as of now, a professional writer. Yes. Indeed. Thanks to Google Adsense, I have made 1 cent on this page. I mean it seems like a lot I know but you have to remember that after taxes and everything it won't be nearly as much.
I should be cleaning my room. I have nothing to say right now. Except that I don't feel like cleaning.
This weekend was alright. I'm back from staying at my cousin's which is nice. Went out to a party last night. It was decent. Jeff and I rapped. We laid the hip hop flava all over that scene. I drank out of a Happy Meal cup, which eventually somebody ashed in. Looking at the cigarette butt inside my Happy Meal cup...it really...reminded me of my childhood. But not really.
Do kids still have birthday parties at McDonalds? Remember when McDonalds did parties? How sweet was that? Happy Meals, toys, purple Grimace cake, oh man...the works. I doubt they still do that. Do they? And what is Grimace? Birdie is clearly a bird. Hamburgler is a...hamburgler. The McNugget buddies are McNuggets. One would deduce that Grimace would be a grimace. But as it would seem, he is not a grimace at all. He is quite cheerful, actually.
I try to keep all of my entries as condusive to learning as possible. That said, a short visit to Wikipedia later I have found the answers we were looking for. What is Grimace?!?
In the first cycle of McDonaldland commercials, Grimace was the "Evil Grimace", with several pairs of arms with which to steal Triple-Thick Shakes. After that first campaign, the character was revised to be one of the "good guys", and his number of arms was reduced to two.
I hope this was educational for you.
I should be cleaning my room. I have nothing to say right now. Except that I don't feel like cleaning.
This weekend was alright. I'm back from staying at my cousin's which is nice. Went out to a party last night. It was decent. Jeff and I rapped. We laid the hip hop flava all over that scene. I drank out of a Happy Meal cup, which eventually somebody ashed in. Looking at the cigarette butt inside my Happy Meal cup...it really...reminded me of my childhood. But not really.
Do kids still have birthday parties at McDonalds? Remember when McDonalds did parties? How sweet was that? Happy Meals, toys, purple Grimace cake, oh man...the works. I doubt they still do that. Do they? And what is Grimace? Birdie is clearly a bird. Hamburgler is a...hamburgler. The McNugget buddies are McNuggets. One would deduce that Grimace would be a grimace. But as it would seem, he is not a grimace at all. He is quite cheerful, actually.
I try to keep all of my entries as condusive to learning as possible. That said, a short visit to Wikipedia later I have found the answers we were looking for. What is Grimace?!?
In the first cycle of McDonaldland commercials, Grimace was the "Evil Grimace", with several pairs of arms with which to steal Triple-Thick Shakes. After that first campaign, the character was revised to be one of the "good guys", and his number of arms was reduced to two.
Today, Grimace is generally portrayed in McDonalds' commercials and merchandise as a sort of well-meaning doofus, whose clumsy antics provide a comic foil to the more serious and mature Ronald McDonald.
Grimace is a fantasy character, and not intended to "be" anything specific. However, ever since the character's introduction there has been much speculation (though much of it tongue-in-cheek) about his appearance. Because the majority of McDonald's characters more or less directly represent a food product sold at the restaurants (ie: Mayor McCheese, Fry Guys, Chicken McNuggets Buddies, etc) many have naturally tried to guess as to what, if any, food product Grimace is supposed to represent.
A common speculation is that he is supposed to be a giant McNugget, but his appearance pre-dates the release of that food. A better explanation is that he is a taste bud, though there are many more fanciful attempted explanations. In reality, Grimace's "official" role, according to McDonald's, continues to be to represent the chain's famous milkshakes. However, he does this out of love for the taste, and not because he is in any way a shake-based creature himself.
I hope this was educational for you.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Out of the (South) Loop
This is who I've been watching this week. Small cameo of my foot.
And this is what see when I look out the window.
Not a bad deal, I'd say.
I thought it would be harder to be away for a week. I felt like I'd be all upset like I was missing out on stuff. But to be honest, aside from being bored and usually kind of lonely, it's been pretty nice. Pretty nice to just be by myself in this cool place with this cool dog and not worry about people wanting to hang out or go do something or go some place silly with the entire group. Just me, the dog, and cable television. I've seen every episode of Meet The Barkers. Who wants to touch me?
I probably won't be writing in here as much anymore. Sorry. Cry a little. I know you are. Twigger probably just died a little inside. For that, I aplogize. But I have 5 classes this semester, and in 3 of those classes I'm required to keep a journal. That means I'm currently writing in 4 different journals, counting this. And since Blogger isn't grading me, it has to be the first one thrown to the curb.
Here's a thought. Disney Imagineers (the people that design the theme parks and rides, for those of you who don't know. Idiots!) quit and get jobs that mean something. Wow, that's really cool that there are over 3,000 parts in the 2 foot tall Stitch that make it the most lifelike technologically advanced animatronic robot. But...how about if you find a more efficient way to use fossil fuels? Congratulations on combining a centrifuge and simulator to create a ride in which you feel actual G-forces comparable to that of an actual space launch. Now go cure cancer.
Today was the SGA retreat. We had to come up with an adjective that had the same letter as our name. Sarcastic Steve, right? No. I decided to be different. Now everybody on the Student Government will forever know me as Stupid Steve. Talk about digging your own hole.
Classes are good. Critical Studies of TV will be a lot of fun because we do a LOT of watching TV. For the first class we watched the 5th episode of Battlestar Galactica. That was not preferable. Especially since it was the 5th episode, so even if I WANTED to pay attention I couldn't because I had no idea what was going on. And come on, Battlestar Galactica? And this kid that sits behind me is the BIGGEST douche bag I've ever met. When he talks he sounds just like the comic book guy from The Simpsons. You'd think he was purposely doing an impression it is that dead on. And he talks about the same shit comic book guy would talk about.
"You won't find a bigger fan of the original Night Stalker than me!" he says with a lisp.
So you know what this means, right? Now I'm going to end up being friends with him, he'll add me on AIM, find the link to this site, and read what I just said. And then I'll be embarassed and have to come up with some half ass excuse like "Oh I was...talking about someone else" to which he'll respond "No you weren't. Because that's exactly the excuse you SAID you'd use as a half ass excuse! I read you're fucking blog remember?!" Then we'll throw down and I'll win because I'm not as big of a douche bag as him.
The girlfriend search. I've decided that now is the perfect time to find a new girlfriend, since classes just started and I'm meeting all these new people. It's been going alright. There are definitely some potentials but once you take away the ones that you know won't like you, the ones that won't like you more than a friend, the ones that seem cool at first but turn out to be weird, and the ones that may or may not have made out with your roommate at a party, it becomes slim pickin'. The problem is my ideal girlfriend doesn't exist at Columbia. I want a girl that paints her toenails. I want her to take 30 minutes to get ready (rolling out of bed is just not enough effort and 45 minutes is too high maintainance). I want her to make fun of all my friends but still like them. I want her to have her own group of friends the way I want to have my own group of friends. She should want to kiss in public but hate when we see other people doing it. She has to listen to Top 40 music that I will continually complain about. She has to hate my music too. And I want us to always disagree on what movies to go see but always end up finding one that we both liked. I want her to make fun of me the way I intend to make fun of her. I want her to think Valentine's Day is stupid but still get mad if I don't take her out. I want her to not smoke, yell at me if I am having a drunk cigarette, and then take it from me and smoke it herself. I want her to be more of a girly girl than any of my friends would expect me to date. But I also want her to sometimes be lazy and go out in a hooded sweatshirt and track pants. She has to love people watching. She needs to be able to do shots of Skol and chase it with bottle water if necessary. And when we walk we hold hands and she swings them back and forth wildly like we ar 4 years old.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
What's the point?
I wrote a huge blog but it all seemed boring and forced. If you really care about pointless anecdotes from my new classes or a story about my roommate and I watching the same deleted scene on a DVD 6 times and then fighting over the remote, just let me know and I will be glad to share.
I'm staying at my cousin's all week watching her dog. If anyone wants to come visit or hang out let me know. I'm getting bored, and I know people would love a chance to leave the UC. Maybe I'll order a pizza and get a movie tomorrow or Friday. Don't worry, I would do this early in the evening so we could still go out after. Dude, I may be responsible, but I'm not stupid.
I'm staying at my cousin's all week watching her dog. If anyone wants to come visit or hang out let me know. I'm getting bored, and I know people would love a chance to leave the UC. Maybe I'll order a pizza and get a movie tomorrow or Friday. Don't worry, I would do this early in the evening so we could still go out after. Dude, I may be responsible, but I'm not stupid.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Chapter 4: Part Two: It's Never OK To Vandalize Janet Jackson
Best Buy wasn't bad. I wouldn't say I liked it but that's because it was work. Still to this day I have yet to find a job that I don't dread going to. Even if I worked from home I'd probably hate it. Hell, if I got paid to write stories about my old jobs, I'd probably hate that too.
It was easy, I'll say that. And my hours weren't terrible. Usually I just worked a few evenings a week and then Sunday afternoons.
Now here's the thing.
Ever since the dawn of time, when Jesus first decided this, CDs and movies have been released on Tuesdays. Always. Always. Always. Now, the ads come out on Sunday. Yes. This is true. This would indeed be a most opportune time to advertise something that will be released on Tuesday.
Sounds pretty simple...right?
If you think so, you clearly have never worked retail.
(tangent ahead. Please skip the next few paragraphs if you don't want continuity of the story to be broken)
And you know what...if you have never worked retail, then I have a significantly less amount of respect for you. Well, that's no fair. Customer service. If you have never held a job that required working customer service, then you just don't get it. And you never will. Sure, you think you understand. Even if you try your hardest to actually be polite to a salesperson and pleasant to deal with. You don't know.
I propose that every American citizen is required to work some sort of service job before they turn 25. Be it McDonalds, Gap, or Uncle Ed's Oil Change. Something in which you have to cater to another person's needs. You'll learn more about cultural studies and human behavior in one year in customer service than you will in four years of college. But since I know that won't happen, and that many of you will never experience this first hand, let me lay it out for you.
Cultural Studies: All cultures suck. You will soon learn that stereotypes are indeed based on real life people. Racist? I suppose. But racist against everyone.
Human Behavior: People don't care about other people. They just don't. People don't say excuse me. They don't say please. They are sneaky and impatient and rude. And they will turn their back on you the second they see an opportunity for themselves to benefit.
Yeah, I sound a little harsh. Well, that's exactly the loss of faith in mankind that I feel everybody needs. And that's why everybody needs to work customer service.
Oh...yeah. About the sale ads. This small encounter pretty much sums up 90 percent of my customer interactions on Sundays.
Someone's Mom: I'm looking for the new Backstreet Boys CD.
Steve: Oh I'm sorry. That doesn't come out until Tuesday.
Someone's Mom: Well it's in the sale paper today! That's false advertisement!
Steve: No it isn't. It says that it will be released Tuesday.
Someone's Mom: No it doesn't!
Steve: Yes it does. Right here. Under the picture of the CD. Where it says "Released Tuesday"
Someone's Mom: Where is your manager! I know you have the CD!
Steve: He's on lunch. But he'd say the same thing.
Someone's Mom: Well maybe I'll just call the Better Business Bureau.
Sorry to tell you, but I am not John Frey. This story is not embellished at all. These things happen.
But let's get to the good part of the story. The day everything turned around.
It all started when Nick picked up a black marker. With that sharpie, he marked my fate. Well, not fate. I mean it was a part time job at Best Buy, so whatever happened was clearly not going to change my life in any drastic way, but I digress.
We had posters on the end of every CD and movie aisle. Gladiator, Scary Movie, Charlie's Angels, Britney Spears, Dave Matthews Band...
...Janet Jackson.
Nick thought he would be funny, so he scribbled all over the Dave Matthews poster. Then he gave Janet Jackson a huge hairy mole. After he did this he showed me his work. I really didn't care that much. I was farming (alphabetizing the CD section) and really didn't like being taken out of my zen organization time. Back to farming I went. A little while later, I was on the computer looking something up and Nick's marker was right there. For no reason whatsoever, I picked it up and started carrying it around with me. Oops.
A few days later, I was called into the security office in regards to the vandalizing that occurred. The funny thing is that even though the Dave Matthews poster was more destroyed than the Janet Jackson poster, it was only Miss Jackson (if your nasty) who the security guard seemed to care about. Ironically, his name was on the back of that poster, which meant that once it was taken down, it was his to keep.
As luck would have it, they didn't have any footage of the posters being defaced (Hint: If you ever want to steal anything from the Best Buy in Novi, Michigan, there is apparently a huge area in the South East corner of the music department where security cameras do not go. Have at it). But there was, however, footage of me walking around with a black marker. Suspicious.
I explained it wasn't me but security guy didn't seem to believe me. I didn't care what he thought. He worked for security at Best Buy. Like I was afraid of him. After that, it seemed that I couldn't be trusted with anything. If I untucked my shirt before I left, I was asked to show my belt so that they knew I wasn't taking anything (something that no one else was ever asked to do). I was no longer scheduled to close alone. And I was barely ever assigned to work with movies or CDs.
The funny thing is that I was never explicitly reprimanded or warned. After that meeting with security guy, nothing else was ever called to my attention. But you could tell they were just waiting for me to do something wrong. That's when I started to hate Best Buy.
Then one day I got a phone call from Jason, a guy from Twist & Shout. They had reopened! At a different mall, yes, but alive and kicking nonetheless. He told me that he had gotten a job at the new one, and they were looking for more people. Would I be interested?
Would I be interested? Heck yes I would be interested! But what about Best Buy? That was the dilemma. I'd be getting a dollar an hour less at Twist & Shout than I was getting at Best Buy. After a lot of deliberation I decided that I would keep both jobs. Twist & Shout on the weekends, Best Buy during the week. Summer was coming up so school wouldn't be an issue. So I went to tell my managers.
Best Buy had about 97 managers, so I wasn't exactly sure who to ask. I went to Stan. Stan told me that I couldn't do that. Being part time meant that I had to work at least one day every weekend. I knew he was making that up. OK, I really had no idea if he was making that up or not, because to be honest I didn't read anything that I signed when I became an employee. However, I did not like what Stan was telling me, so I decided it was a lie.
When it came down to the wire, I had to make a decision. Two jobs couldn't work. Best Buy wouldn't let it work. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Twist & Shout. But was that wrong? Was that irresponsible? Taking a pay cut for a job that would be more "fun?" What to do, what to do...
FUCK THAT AND FUCK BEST BUY! I WAS OUT OF THERE.
Now all I had to do was quit. I've always been very mature when it comes to my jobs, and confrontation is something that I have never been afraid of. So when it came down to writing a note saying that I quit and putting it into my managers mailbox, then leaving and saying "See you tomorrow" to everyone when I knew damn well I was gone for good, I had no problem. No problem at all.
The problem after that was...would I ever go back to Best Buy to shop? I mean...would that be awkward? I was definitely afraid to return for a good two weeks.
...but the CDs were so cheap there. And I wasn't about to go to Sam Goody.
It was easy, I'll say that. And my hours weren't terrible. Usually I just worked a few evenings a week and then Sunday afternoons.
Now here's the thing.
Ever since the dawn of time, when Jesus first decided this, CDs and movies have been released on Tuesdays. Always. Always. Always. Now, the ads come out on Sunday. Yes. This is true. This would indeed be a most opportune time to advertise something that will be released on Tuesday.
Sounds pretty simple...right?
If you think so, you clearly have never worked retail.
(tangent ahead. Please skip the next few paragraphs if you don't want continuity of the story to be broken)
And you know what...if you have never worked retail, then I have a significantly less amount of respect for you. Well, that's no fair. Customer service. If you have never held a job that required working customer service, then you just don't get it. And you never will. Sure, you think you understand. Even if you try your hardest to actually be polite to a salesperson and pleasant to deal with. You don't know.
I propose that every American citizen is required to work some sort of service job before they turn 25. Be it McDonalds, Gap, or Uncle Ed's Oil Change. Something in which you have to cater to another person's needs. You'll learn more about cultural studies and human behavior in one year in customer service than you will in four years of college. But since I know that won't happen, and that many of you will never experience this first hand, let me lay it out for you.
Cultural Studies: All cultures suck. You will soon learn that stereotypes are indeed based on real life people. Racist? I suppose. But racist against everyone.
Human Behavior: People don't care about other people. They just don't. People don't say excuse me. They don't say please. They are sneaky and impatient and rude. And they will turn their back on you the second they see an opportunity for themselves to benefit.
Yeah, I sound a little harsh. Well, that's exactly the loss of faith in mankind that I feel everybody needs. And that's why everybody needs to work customer service.
Oh...yeah. About the sale ads. This small encounter pretty much sums up 90 percent of my customer interactions on Sundays.
Someone's Mom: I'm looking for the new Backstreet Boys CD.
Steve: Oh I'm sorry. That doesn't come out until Tuesday.
Someone's Mom: Well it's in the sale paper today! That's false advertisement!
Steve: No it isn't. It says that it will be released Tuesday.
Someone's Mom: No it doesn't!
Steve: Yes it does. Right here. Under the picture of the CD. Where it says "Released Tuesday"
Someone's Mom: Where is your manager! I know you have the CD!
Steve: He's on lunch. But he'd say the same thing.
Someone's Mom: Well maybe I'll just call the Better Business Bureau.
Sorry to tell you, but I am not John Frey. This story is not embellished at all. These things happen.
But let's get to the good part of the story. The day everything turned around.
It all started when Nick picked up a black marker. With that sharpie, he marked my fate. Well, not fate. I mean it was a part time job at Best Buy, so whatever happened was clearly not going to change my life in any drastic way, but I digress.
We had posters on the end of every CD and movie aisle. Gladiator, Scary Movie, Charlie's Angels, Britney Spears, Dave Matthews Band...
...Janet Jackson.
Nick thought he would be funny, so he scribbled all over the Dave Matthews poster. Then he gave Janet Jackson a huge hairy mole. After he did this he showed me his work. I really didn't care that much. I was farming (alphabetizing the CD section) and really didn't like being taken out of my zen organization time. Back to farming I went. A little while later, I was on the computer looking something up and Nick's marker was right there. For no reason whatsoever, I picked it up and started carrying it around with me. Oops.
A few days later, I was called into the security office in regards to the vandalizing that occurred. The funny thing is that even though the Dave Matthews poster was more destroyed than the Janet Jackson poster, it was only Miss Jackson (if your nasty) who the security guard seemed to care about. Ironically, his name was on the back of that poster, which meant that once it was taken down, it was his to keep.
As luck would have it, they didn't have any footage of the posters being defaced (Hint: If you ever want to steal anything from the Best Buy in Novi, Michigan, there is apparently a huge area in the South East corner of the music department where security cameras do not go. Have at it). But there was, however, footage of me walking around with a black marker. Suspicious.
I explained it wasn't me but security guy didn't seem to believe me. I didn't care what he thought. He worked for security at Best Buy. Like I was afraid of him. After that, it seemed that I couldn't be trusted with anything. If I untucked my shirt before I left, I was asked to show my belt so that they knew I wasn't taking anything (something that no one else was ever asked to do). I was no longer scheduled to close alone. And I was barely ever assigned to work with movies or CDs.
The funny thing is that I was never explicitly reprimanded or warned. After that meeting with security guy, nothing else was ever called to my attention. But you could tell they were just waiting for me to do something wrong. That's when I started to hate Best Buy.
Then one day I got a phone call from Jason, a guy from Twist & Shout. They had reopened! At a different mall, yes, but alive and kicking nonetheless. He told me that he had gotten a job at the new one, and they were looking for more people. Would I be interested?
Would I be interested? Heck yes I would be interested! But what about Best Buy? That was the dilemma. I'd be getting a dollar an hour less at Twist & Shout than I was getting at Best Buy. After a lot of deliberation I decided that I would keep both jobs. Twist & Shout on the weekends, Best Buy during the week. Summer was coming up so school wouldn't be an issue. So I went to tell my managers.
Best Buy had about 97 managers, so I wasn't exactly sure who to ask. I went to Stan. Stan told me that I couldn't do that. Being part time meant that I had to work at least one day every weekend. I knew he was making that up. OK, I really had no idea if he was making that up or not, because to be honest I didn't read anything that I signed when I became an employee. However, I did not like what Stan was telling me, so I decided it was a lie.
When it came down to the wire, I had to make a decision. Two jobs couldn't work. Best Buy wouldn't let it work. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Twist & Shout. But was that wrong? Was that irresponsible? Taking a pay cut for a job that would be more "fun?" What to do, what to do...
FUCK THAT AND FUCK BEST BUY! I WAS OUT OF THERE.
Now all I had to do was quit. I've always been very mature when it comes to my jobs, and confrontation is something that I have never been afraid of. So when it came down to writing a note saying that I quit and putting it into my managers mailbox, then leaving and saying "See you tomorrow" to everyone when I knew damn well I was gone for good, I had no problem. No problem at all.
The problem after that was...would I ever go back to Best Buy to shop? I mean...would that be awkward? I was definitely afraid to return for a good two weeks.
...but the CDs were so cheap there. And I wasn't about to go to Sam Goody.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
To whom it may concern...
I know we haven't talked in years, but I still have your name on my buddy list for some reason.
And even though the last time I saw you was High School, I always seem to know exactly what you are doing because I read your away messages Even though they don't concern me and I don't care what you're doing anyway.
If you update your Facebook, I will find out in less than a day. And if I have paper or some other assignment that I wish to neglect, I'll probably read your entire interest page too. Even the books.
I know what you were for Halloween because I've seen all of your Webshots.
I know everything else that's going on in your life because I read your blog when I'm bored
So yeah. We aren't friends anymore, but I know everything about you.
And I know you could say the exact same thing about me.
And even though the last time I saw you was High School, I always seem to know exactly what you are doing because I read your away messages Even though they don't concern me and I don't care what you're doing anyway.
If you update your Facebook, I will find out in less than a day. And if I have paper or some other assignment that I wish to neglect, I'll probably read your entire interest page too. Even the books.
I know what you were for Halloween because I've seen all of your Webshots.
I know everything else that's going on in your life because I read your blog when I'm bored
So yeah. We aren't friends anymore, but I know everything about you.
And I know you could say the exact same thing about me.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Things in my google history...
Sleep apnea
Diane Keaton
Rollover minutes
Is Carrie Underwood Republican?
Parking Lot Pimpin' lyrics
Shiloh book
Snoopy
Golden Globes
Book about sex addicts at camp
Did Martin Luther King Jr. invent red Kool-Aid
That's technology hard at work, I'd say. Long live the Nintendo Generation!
Scrubs is on. Scruuuubbbbsss!!!!
Diane Keaton
Rollover minutes
Is Carrie Underwood Republican?
Parking Lot Pimpin' lyrics
Shiloh book
Snoopy
Golden Globes
Book about sex addicts at camp
Did Martin Luther King Jr. invent red Kool-Aid
That's technology hard at work, I'd say. Long live the Nintendo Generation!
Scrubs is on. Scruuuubbbbsss!!!!
Monday, January 16, 2006
Toss it in the rubbish
Every time I write something on here, I end up deleting it 5 minutes later.
"I'm not using internet or blogging until I get back to Chicago"
-Too false
"Extreme Home Makeover uses you by playing off of your sentementality. They are not actually doing as good of things as you think. They just make you believe that they are."
-Too controversial
"My brother gets his car and cell phone paid for while I have 16 dollars to my name but have to be responsible for my own bills."
-Too whiney
So who knows. This might be deleted as soon as it's posted, just like the rest.
I think I'm ready for break to be over. I'm excited for all of my classes. I get to make my own projects (no partners!) in Production & Editing 2. I get to perform my final scene in front of an audience (you can come too!) in Scene Study. I get to do a lot of writing about my life (it sucks! I need drugs!) in Aesthetics & Storytelling 2. And neighbor Robby is in my Critical Studies class. My biggest worry is that I will be skipping Body Movement on account of it being an hour and a half and, well, body movement class.
I have 5 hour gaps in between my classes most days. Most people hate that. They like to get class over and done with. I don't mind it too much. Hey, I'm living on campus this semester and usually need a nap after class anyway. No complaints here.
I'm also glad that my internship is over. Although I worry now that I didn't do my best. That I didn't make as many connections as I could have and that in the long run I didn't get anything out of working at Springer. But then I think, "well, at least it will look good on a resume," and I stop caring. My Mondays and Fridays will no longer be taken up by getting BLT's and soda for trailer trash. Now the BLT's and soda are all for Steve!
Soda? Yeah, I know. It's pop. Pop pop pop.
Pop goes the weasel.
Hop on pop.
Dirty pop.
Jimmy crack corn and I don't care.
So...yeah.
I got nothing.
"I'm not using internet or blogging until I get back to Chicago"
-Too false
"Extreme Home Makeover uses you by playing off of your sentementality. They are not actually doing as good of things as you think. They just make you believe that they are."
-Too controversial
"My brother gets his car and cell phone paid for while I have 16 dollars to my name but have to be responsible for my own bills."
-Too whiney
So who knows. This might be deleted as soon as it's posted, just like the rest.
I think I'm ready for break to be over. I'm excited for all of my classes. I get to make my own projects (no partners!) in Production & Editing 2. I get to perform my final scene in front of an audience (you can come too!) in Scene Study. I get to do a lot of writing about my life (it sucks! I need drugs!) in Aesthetics & Storytelling 2. And neighbor Robby is in my Critical Studies class. My biggest worry is that I will be skipping Body Movement on account of it being an hour and a half and, well, body movement class.
I have 5 hour gaps in between my classes most days. Most people hate that. They like to get class over and done with. I don't mind it too much. Hey, I'm living on campus this semester and usually need a nap after class anyway. No complaints here.
I'm also glad that my internship is over. Although I worry now that I didn't do my best. That I didn't make as many connections as I could have and that in the long run I didn't get anything out of working at Springer. But then I think, "well, at least it will look good on a resume," and I stop caring. My Mondays and Fridays will no longer be taken up by getting BLT's and soda for trailer trash. Now the BLT's and soda are all for Steve!
Soda? Yeah, I know. It's pop. Pop pop pop.
Pop goes the weasel.
Hop on pop.
Dirty pop.
Jimmy crack corn and I don't care.
So...yeah.
I got nothing.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Chester Cheetah is Crying Somewhere
Walking home from work today, we passed a homeless man with a large open bag of Cheetos.
"That's my favorite homeless man," Maggie told me as we approached him. Before I had a chance to ask why, the man dumped the entire bag of Cheetos on the ground. And you should know, the bag was pretty much full. Mind you, he was not trying to feed birds or animals or anything. He just walked up to a fence and gingerly dumped all the Cheetos out. Why would a homeless man sprinkle the sidewalk with Cheetos?
"He wasn't hungry. He didn't want the rest," you might say. But if that's what you are saying, then you have obviously missed the part where I said he's homeless. Furthermore, there were two other homeless men standing not three feet away from him, who probably would have gladly eaten them. My only guess is that he thought by dumping the Cheetos he was in fact planting a Cheeto Tree, which would in turn produce even more Cheetos. Guess we'll find out come Spring.
If that wasn't enough for one day, there was a naked man off the Belmont stop. Completely naked, in front of the turnstiles, shouting at people.
"They took my shirt! It could happen to you!"
People are crazy.
*UPDATE*
Whoever Patty is, she's an idiot. Probably a lesbian with a name like Patty. And by the fact that her link was www.disney.com I'd have to assume she collects snowglobes, has bad teeth, and loves unicorns. Oh. And she probably writes fiction. So be sure to check her out...
"That's my favorite homeless man," Maggie told me as we approached him. Before I had a chance to ask why, the man dumped the entire bag of Cheetos on the ground. And you should know, the bag was pretty much full. Mind you, he was not trying to feed birds or animals or anything. He just walked up to a fence and gingerly dumped all the Cheetos out. Why would a homeless man sprinkle the sidewalk with Cheetos?
"He wasn't hungry. He didn't want the rest," you might say. But if that's what you are saying, then you have obviously missed the part where I said he's homeless. Furthermore, there were two other homeless men standing not three feet away from him, who probably would have gladly eaten them. My only guess is that he thought by dumping the Cheetos he was in fact planting a Cheeto Tree, which would in turn produce even more Cheetos. Guess we'll find out come Spring.
If that wasn't enough for one day, there was a naked man off the Belmont stop. Completely naked, in front of the turnstiles, shouting at people.
"They took my shirt! It could happen to you!"
People are crazy.
*UPDATE*
Whoever Patty is, she's an idiot. Probably a lesbian with a name like Patty. And by the fact that her link was www.disney.com I'd have to assume she collects snowglobes, has bad teeth, and loves unicorns. Oh. And she probably writes fiction. So be sure to check her out...
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Orientation Liar
We have student panels with the parents at Orientation, where they get a chance to ask us some "candid" questions. Sometimes, when I finish talking, I feel really good because I answered the parents question and they clearly appreciate it. Other times, I feel bad because it was just a flat out lie. Such is the case when I am asked:
"Do you get enough sleep?"
"Is money ever an issue?"
"Do you eat well?"
"Do you eat at all?"
"Do you ever regret transferring?"
"Was changing schools easy?"
"Do you feel confident that you will get a job when you graduate?"
Yes
No
Yes
Yes
No
Yes
Yes
They're dropping all this money to send their kids to school, so who am I to piss on the parade?
Ozzie Guillen Jr. is going to Columbia now and had his session today. I guess that's exciting. I heard he had a real attitude though. Orientation is no place for attitude.
The lunches have been alright. The sandwiches are good but the cookies and other snacks has been an issue. In the summer we always had good cookies and decent chips. Sometimes there were DOOR COUNTY chips, which taste like heaven and peanut oil. However, this time around we get the reject snacks. Goldfish? I guess that's alright. But Pretzels? PRETZELS? Where are the Doritos? No one wants PRETZELS we want CHIPS! Orientation is no place for pretzels. And the cookie situation. Used to be nice chocolate chip and sugar cookies. Now? Fig Newtons. Lorna Doone's if we're lucky.
"Do you get enough sleep?"
"Is money ever an issue?"
"Do you eat well?"
"Do you eat at all?"
"Do you ever regret transferring?"
"Was changing schools easy?"
"Do you feel confident that you will get a job when you graduate?"
Yes
No
Yes
Yes
No
Yes
Yes
They're dropping all this money to send their kids to school, so who am I to piss on the parade?
Ozzie Guillen Jr. is going to Columbia now and had his session today. I guess that's exciting. I heard he had a real attitude though. Orientation is no place for attitude.
The lunches have been alright. The sandwiches are good but the cookies and other snacks has been an issue. In the summer we always had good cookies and decent chips. Sometimes there were DOOR COUNTY chips, which taste like heaven and peanut oil. However, this time around we get the reject snacks. Goldfish? I guess that's alright. But Pretzels? PRETZELS? Where are the Doritos? No one wants PRETZELS we want CHIPS! Orientation is no place for pretzels. And the cookie situation. Used to be nice chocolate chip and sugar cookies. Now? Fig Newtons. Lorna Doone's if we're lucky.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
Chapter 4: Part One: Turn Off The Fun
Hurricane Steve blew through Old Navy faster than you can say "Clothing Return Policy." You'll see as the chapters go on, however, that 3 months at one job is not terribly uncharacteristic. It's not that I can't hold a job, though. You should realize that. I don't get fired from these places, and I certainly don't go quitting them because I'm a flake. No. There are always extenuating circumstances. Circumstances such as people sucking and the job being stupid. Stuff like that. I always have a good reason. A professional reason.
So, round 2 of that fucking Best Buy automated phone interview. I'm ready for you, this time, sucker. I learned your secrets. I know how you operate. Stealing is bad. Hard work is good. Tardiness is bad. Suggestive selling is good.
PAUSE!
If you ever want a job really bad, and it has to do with selling something, selling anything. Selling phones, cabbage, rottweilers, or children. All you have to do is mention the words "suggestive selling" in the interview and the job is pretty much yours. Managers eat that shit up. "How about a side of cole slaw with that halibut?" "These jeans are nice, maybe a belt to go with it?" What managers don't understand, however, is that suggestive selling usually makes you look like a desperate jerk.
"Purchasing the new Carrie Underwood CD? You should also take a look at our neoprene laptop sleeves!"
In any case, managers love the idea of suggestive selling and will pretty much father the children of any employee who engages in it.
RESUME.
Long story short, I got the job at Best Buy. As if the phone interview wasn't enough of a nuisance, the drug test wasn't exactly walking on sunshine either. Ever take a drug test? Of course you have. Your mom knows you smoke pot and is convinced you've got a meth lab in the basement. You buy piss from the neighbor kids because yours still isn't clean. I really don't think there's anything more uncomfortable than handing some strange woman a cup of your own pee. What are you supposed to say to her? Do you laugh? Is it funny? I mean, yeah, it's funny AFTER the fact. Hilarious story to tell your friends. Especially if you bump into the door on the way out and accidently spill over the side of the cup that you are handing off. But it's not funny at the time. So what is the proper etiquette for giving them your pee? Do you say thank you? Why would you? You aren't grateful. You are giving them a urine sample, why would you be grateful? Do you make a joke? You know they've probably heard every sort of joke about the situation already. And you know there are some tactless bastards out there who have the balls to say "Oh man, I wouldn't want your job! Haha!" The same assholes who would say that to me when I was cleaning up puke at Disney World. "You got the fun job, huh?" Yeah, fuck you.
Slightly off topic maybe, but still relevant.
I was called a Media & Merchandise Specialist. That was my official title. However, I think "store bitch" would have been just as effective. I was under the impression I would be in charge of CDs and movies. Not a bad deal. Then I found out I was also responsible for video and computer games. I can handle that too. Then I found out I was also going to have to put out merchandise. What's merchandise, you ask?
EVERYTHING.
If you can pick it up, it's merchandise. And I had to walk around carrying basket upon basket filled with crap. Cables, plugs, batteries, CDRs, ink cartridges, candy, phones, answering machines, walkmans, portable CD players, headphones, carrying cases, you name it. And this wasn't something you do in the afternoon. No, this was a morning job. A 6 o'clock in the morning job. Luckily I had school so I could only come in at 6 on Sundays, which, incidentally was the worst day of the week. Shipments came in and ads needed to be set. It sucked really bad. Especially since aside from a select few people, the Media & Merch team was a bunch of rejects. I ended up getting out of Sunday morning shifts. I don't know if I volunteered or they asked me to come in later or if I lied and said I had church, but I was the official closer instead. I came in and worked 12-6, which, in my opinion, is way better than 6-12.
I didn't really give 100 percent at Best Buy. I did at first. When I liked it. Oh man I was so excited to work at Best Buy. But being treated like vermin for so long, eventually you stop caring about putting for as much effort. For instance, the day after Thanksgiving, or, as it is known in the retail world, Black Friday. I was not scheduled, but Stan (I fucking hated Stan) asked me to come in at 6 am. So I did. Stan (I fucking hated Stan) never told me what time to leave though. At about 10:30, the store was absolute chaos. The line for the registers weaved in and out through every CD aisle, and wrapped around the entire store. People were rude and hostile. I had enough, so I decided that it was time to bounce. I didn't ask if I could, I just left. Hell, Stan (I fucking hated Stan) never told me what time to leave, nor did he ask me how long I could stay. Can't get in trouble for that. And since I wasn't on the schedule, the clock out computer didn't give me trouble at all.
You see, you couldn't clock out of a shift at Best Buy until the exact time, to the minute, that you were scheduled to leave. If you got off early or had to leave sick, you needed a managers authorization. I had my ways around it though.
Steve: Hey Sherry, I'm leaving early, so I need you to authorize me to clock out.
Sherry: Who else is in your department?
Steve: Tim is there. And Mike said I could leave early.
(Tim was not there. No one else was there, not even Mike. And if he was, he wouldn't have let me leave early.)
Sherry: OK. Have a good night.
I never got in trouble for that. I'm pretty sure upper management forgot who I was on a day to day basis. By the time they realized they were screwed over, they forgot who did it. They weren't concerned with me or my affairs.
My treasured anonymity did not last forever, however. This was because of Nick. After Nick's antics which I was framed for, I became Best Buy's Public Enemy Number 1.
...to be continued
So, round 2 of that fucking Best Buy automated phone interview. I'm ready for you, this time, sucker. I learned your secrets. I know how you operate. Stealing is bad. Hard work is good. Tardiness is bad. Suggestive selling is good.
PAUSE!
If you ever want a job really bad, and it has to do with selling something, selling anything. Selling phones, cabbage, rottweilers, or children. All you have to do is mention the words "suggestive selling" in the interview and the job is pretty much yours. Managers eat that shit up. "How about a side of cole slaw with that halibut?" "These jeans are nice, maybe a belt to go with it?" What managers don't understand, however, is that suggestive selling usually makes you look like a desperate jerk.
"Purchasing the new Carrie Underwood CD? You should also take a look at our neoprene laptop sleeves!"
In any case, managers love the idea of suggestive selling and will pretty much father the children of any employee who engages in it.
RESUME.
Long story short, I got the job at Best Buy. As if the phone interview wasn't enough of a nuisance, the drug test wasn't exactly walking on sunshine either. Ever take a drug test? Of course you have. Your mom knows you smoke pot and is convinced you've got a meth lab in the basement. You buy piss from the neighbor kids because yours still isn't clean. I really don't think there's anything more uncomfortable than handing some strange woman a cup of your own pee. What are you supposed to say to her? Do you laugh? Is it funny? I mean, yeah, it's funny AFTER the fact. Hilarious story to tell your friends. Especially if you bump into the door on the way out and accidently spill over the side of the cup that you are handing off. But it's not funny at the time. So what is the proper etiquette for giving them your pee? Do you say thank you? Why would you? You aren't grateful. You are giving them a urine sample, why would you be grateful? Do you make a joke? You know they've probably heard every sort of joke about the situation already. And you know there are some tactless bastards out there who have the balls to say "Oh man, I wouldn't want your job! Haha!" The same assholes who would say that to me when I was cleaning up puke at Disney World. "You got the fun job, huh?" Yeah, fuck you.
Slightly off topic maybe, but still relevant.
I was called a Media & Merchandise Specialist. That was my official title. However, I think "store bitch" would have been just as effective. I was under the impression I would be in charge of CDs and movies. Not a bad deal. Then I found out I was also responsible for video and computer games. I can handle that too. Then I found out I was also going to have to put out merchandise. What's merchandise, you ask?
EVERYTHING.
If you can pick it up, it's merchandise. And I had to walk around carrying basket upon basket filled with crap. Cables, plugs, batteries, CDRs, ink cartridges, candy, phones, answering machines, walkmans, portable CD players, headphones, carrying cases, you name it. And this wasn't something you do in the afternoon. No, this was a morning job. A 6 o'clock in the morning job. Luckily I had school so I could only come in at 6 on Sundays, which, incidentally was the worst day of the week. Shipments came in and ads needed to be set. It sucked really bad. Especially since aside from a select few people, the Media & Merch team was a bunch of rejects. I ended up getting out of Sunday morning shifts. I don't know if I volunteered or they asked me to come in later or if I lied and said I had church, but I was the official closer instead. I came in and worked 12-6, which, in my opinion, is way better than 6-12.
I didn't really give 100 percent at Best Buy. I did at first. When I liked it. Oh man I was so excited to work at Best Buy. But being treated like vermin for so long, eventually you stop caring about putting for as much effort. For instance, the day after Thanksgiving, or, as it is known in the retail world, Black Friday. I was not scheduled, but Stan (I fucking hated Stan) asked me to come in at 6 am. So I did. Stan (I fucking hated Stan) never told me what time to leave though. At about 10:30, the store was absolute chaos. The line for the registers weaved in and out through every CD aisle, and wrapped around the entire store. People were rude and hostile. I had enough, so I decided that it was time to bounce. I didn't ask if I could, I just left. Hell, Stan (I fucking hated Stan) never told me what time to leave, nor did he ask me how long I could stay. Can't get in trouble for that. And since I wasn't on the schedule, the clock out computer didn't give me trouble at all.
You see, you couldn't clock out of a shift at Best Buy until the exact time, to the minute, that you were scheduled to leave. If you got off early or had to leave sick, you needed a managers authorization. I had my ways around it though.
Steve: Hey Sherry, I'm leaving early, so I need you to authorize me to clock out.
Sherry: Who else is in your department?
Steve: Tim is there. And Mike said I could leave early.
(Tim was not there. No one else was there, not even Mike. And if he was, he wouldn't have let me leave early.)
Sherry: OK. Have a good night.
I never got in trouble for that. I'm pretty sure upper management forgot who I was on a day to day basis. By the time they realized they were screwed over, they forgot who did it. They weren't concerned with me or my affairs.
My treasured anonymity did not last forever, however. This was because of Nick. After Nick's antics which I was framed for, I became Best Buy's Public Enemy Number 1.
...to be continued
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Post Nasal Drip is a Drag
Ever notice how in cartoons like Tom & Jerry when they get sick they sneeze? They go outside in the cold and come in and sneeze. Why is that? No one sneezes when they get a cold. Cartoons such as Tom & Jerry have always been such an accurate depiction of reality that I find it hard to believe that the animators would do something so strange.
Speaking of sick, I caught myself a nice bout of something. I think I might be getting better though. I probably would have recovered by now if I hadn't gone to the bar to say happy birthday to Maggie on Friday. My quick trip to Tantrum just for a quick birthday greeting ended at 5:30 am when I stumbled home from Maggie's place after 3 hours of drinking and Karaoke Revolution on Playstation. That probably didn't help the immune system all that much.
Last night I needed to keep it low key so I stayed in. Good thing I did! Now I'm a part of something SPECTACULAR in the UC. My lips are sealed.
I'm at the point in sickness where my voice sounds like I'm dying and I keep blowing my nose because it is producing an infinite amount of snot. It's never-ending.
Speaking of sick, I caught myself a nice bout of something. I think I might be getting better though. I probably would have recovered by now if I hadn't gone to the bar to say happy birthday to Maggie on Friday. My quick trip to Tantrum just for a quick birthday greeting ended at 5:30 am when I stumbled home from Maggie's place after 3 hours of drinking and Karaoke Revolution on Playstation. That probably didn't help the immune system all that much.
Last night I needed to keep it low key so I stayed in. Good thing I did! Now I'm a part of something SPECTACULAR in the UC. My lips are sealed.
I'm at the point in sickness where my voice sounds like I'm dying and I keep blowing my nose because it is producing an infinite amount of snot. It's never-ending.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
We put the OL in LOL
There is nothing in the world better than having nothing to do. And that's pretty much how things will be around here until the 23rd. It feels so good. Of course, there is a little thing called WORK that I have to do for part of it, but seeing as how this "work" is actually Spring Orientation, I'm not too worried.
Super stoked to hang out with the orientation leader crew once more. We are ridiculous when all of us are together. The thing is, I personally think that we are really really cool people, but it dawned on me that perhaps we are not cool at all. Perhaps we are huge losers. I mean...Orientation Leaders? Dorks!
Whatever, I love getting wasted with all the other dorks.
Highlights of Summer Orientation:
Referring to the caterer from Connie's Pizza as "Connie" and learning all of her life story. (Favorite tv show: Buffy. Dated the other Connie's worker (Ariel aka CONNOR) but broke up with him)
Looking forward every day to eating the same boxed lunches. Kim especially enjoyed this, as she LOVES ham sandwiches. Loves them. She calls them Hammy Sammies and could eat them all day if you let her.
Orientation Leader gatherings after hours. Maggie ate bologna off the floor and Jacob went psycho crazy and ate everything and anything. In our second adventure, Maggie took the bag from a box of wine, put it in her purse, and named it Super Tati. We shared stories about salad bars, mandarin oranges, and bringing home the bacon.
Living in a frat house but no one ever came to it. You had to take Metra and it was a pain.
Making shit up and pretending its true. "Be sure to say Happy Birthday to Rhett!"
THE STORY OF JACOB AND THE COOKIES, FREEZE POPS, CARROTS, VEGETABLE DIP, RICE, AND SYRUP:
Jacob was a little bit out of it. He seemed to have worked up quite an appetite from all of the nights festivities. First, we found him laying on the kitchen floor with his head halfway under the sink, eating uncooked rice, straight from the bag. Then we had freeze pops. Jacob was now on his computer and Kim and I came in to see if he wanted a freeze pop. He said "Yes. But only pink or green." Before he even finished this sentence, he had ripped the BLUE freeze pop right out of Kim's mouth and was now indulging himself. After this, we decided to make cookies. We finally got the cookie dough roll open, and what dough Jacob did not eat, we made cookies with. Finally, the cookies were done. Jacob was quite excited for the cookies, but they were kind of stuck to the pan. No worry, though. He grabbed the kitchen shears and scraped all of the cookies into one big pile of sugar cookie mush. He put it all on a plate, and then it was time for the toppings. First, he added syrup. "It's just like Eggo Waffles," he explained. After the syrup, he pulled out the vegetable dip we were using for the carrots and put a big handful of veggie dip on the cookies and syrup. It looked...delicious. He ate every bite.
Super stoked to hang out with the orientation leader crew once more. We are ridiculous when all of us are together. The thing is, I personally think that we are really really cool people, but it dawned on me that perhaps we are not cool at all. Perhaps we are huge losers. I mean...Orientation Leaders? Dorks!
Whatever, I love getting wasted with all the other dorks.
Highlights of Summer Orientation:
Referring to the caterer from Connie's Pizza as "Connie" and learning all of her life story. (Favorite tv show: Buffy. Dated the other Connie's worker (Ariel aka CONNOR) but broke up with him)
Looking forward every day to eating the same boxed lunches. Kim especially enjoyed this, as she LOVES ham sandwiches. Loves them. She calls them Hammy Sammies and could eat them all day if you let her.
Orientation Leader gatherings after hours. Maggie ate bologna off the floor and Jacob went psycho crazy and ate everything and anything. In our second adventure, Maggie took the bag from a box of wine, put it in her purse, and named it Super Tati. We shared stories about salad bars, mandarin oranges, and bringing home the bacon.
Living in a frat house but no one ever came to it. You had to take Metra and it was a pain.
Making shit up and pretending its true. "Be sure to say Happy Birthday to Rhett!"
THE STORY OF JACOB AND THE COOKIES, FREEZE POPS, CARROTS, VEGETABLE DIP, RICE, AND SYRUP:
Jacob was a little bit out of it. He seemed to have worked up quite an appetite from all of the nights festivities. First, we found him laying on the kitchen floor with his head halfway under the sink, eating uncooked rice, straight from the bag. Then we had freeze pops. Jacob was now on his computer and Kim and I came in to see if he wanted a freeze pop. He said "Yes. But only pink or green." Before he even finished this sentence, he had ripped the BLUE freeze pop right out of Kim's mouth and was now indulging himself. After this, we decided to make cookies. We finally got the cookie dough roll open, and what dough Jacob did not eat, we made cookies with. Finally, the cookies were done. Jacob was quite excited for the cookies, but they were kind of stuck to the pan. No worry, though. He grabbed the kitchen shears and scraped all of the cookies into one big pile of sugar cookie mush. He put it all on a plate, and then it was time for the toppings. First, he added syrup. "It's just like Eggo Waffles," he explained. After the syrup, he pulled out the vegetable dip we were using for the carrots and put a big handful of veggie dip on the cookies and syrup. It looked...delicious. He ate every bite.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Less than 48 hours after I make my New Year's resolution to have a better attitude, I find myself not wanting to do anything but sit alone in my room. Way to be counterproductive, I'd say. The money situation isn't helping. Well I guess I don't really have a situation. I have no money. So with no money, there's not a situation to have.
I have a book called "Painless Grammar" and I like to read it for enjoyment. I can't explain why. Now I know, when to uses commas and that apostrophe's show ownership.
I have a book called "Painless Grammar" and I like to read it for enjoyment. I can't explain why. Now I know, when to uses commas and that apostrophe's show ownership.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
iiiiiiiiiiiiii never do this
I'm Porkchop!
Most dogs can fetch and roll over. But Doug's dog Porkchop tap dances, plays chess and does a mean impression of Doug. Porkchop lives in an igloo-shaped dog house, complete with a satellite dish and a modest art collection. He even has his own mailbox. Even though Porkchop loves to clown around, he's fiercely loyal to Doug. When Doug faces off with Roger Klotz, Porkchop stands right beside him. (Bio borrowed from Bluffington)
Which of Nickelodeon's Doug characters are you?
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Chapter 2.5: A little bit of back story
I quit Old Navy under the false pretense that I was too busy at school to have a job. About three weeks later, I started at Best Buy. But this, however, was not the first time I tried working at Best Buy. I give you....
Chapter 2.5
I quit Red Robin and needed a new job. I applied at a bunch of places, such as Old Navy. But the place I would have really liked to work at was Best Buy. Now, at Best Buy, you don't just walk in and hand over an application. Oh God no. Can you imagine! Someone having to sit down and go through applications to see who is qualified? There's no time for that at Best Buy! They have electronics and appliances to be selling at almost factory-direct prices! Certainly, a different, more technologically advanced screening process is needed. Are you ready for it?
The automated phone interview.
Press 1 if the answer is "yes"
Press 2 if the answer is "no"
Sounds easy enough. I hate talking on the phone to strangers and a phone interview would be even worse, but going through this with a prerecorded voice would be just fine.
So I'm listening to the questions, hitting the 1's and 2's. "Are you over the age of 16?" 1! "Have you ever been convicted of a crime?" 2! It was going just fine. But then the questions got...questionable.
"If an employee is caught stealing less than a dollar, but confesses and returns the money, should they be given a second chance?"
Ok, in retrospect, I should have thought this through more carefully. Yes, in real life, outside of work, I, Steve Szlaga, would ABSOLUTELY forgive something like that. I am a forgiving person. So yes. Yes I believe that this incident is not punishable by termination. 1. Yes. 1.
But what I should have realized, and now, 12 jobs later, would never forget, is that companies are not people. They are companies. They don't care about you. They don't care if you are broke. They don't care about your uncle Ernie. To them, there is NO excuse for stealing even a penny. Yeah, makes sense. But this is before I became the professional part time employee that I am today. So the answer, of course, should have been 2. No. Fire that bastard who stole 2 dimes and a quarter. Put them in the stocks and throw rocks at them. Hang them if need be.
Then the next question. "If a person steals less than 10 dollars, but confesses and returns the money, should they be given a second chance?"
Well there's nothing to blame but my own stupidity for this one. I mean, I said "yes" to stealing before. I 1'd that other question! I have to stick with it now! What would they think if I keep going all over the board! Stealing good! No...stealing bad! So I said yes. Yes steal more money!
At the end of the interview the automated voice said...
"We're sorry, but you do not meet the requirements for employees that we are looking for."
Probably because they thought I was fucking Charles Boles or something. But after that, it said...
"Please do not participate in this interview until records are erased in 90 days."
So...this was just a practice run. Now I knew the questions better. I could do it right this time. It's like the ACT's. You're allowed to retake as much as you want. Just wait a few months.
But a few weeks later, Old Navy called me with an offer I should have refused. But not to worry. Best Buy would happen soon enough. And let's just say, this little phone interview was only the beginning of my supposed "delinquency" at that place. I was a marked man...
Chapter 2.5
I quit Red Robin and needed a new job. I applied at a bunch of places, such as Old Navy. But the place I would have really liked to work at was Best Buy. Now, at Best Buy, you don't just walk in and hand over an application. Oh God no. Can you imagine! Someone having to sit down and go through applications to see who is qualified? There's no time for that at Best Buy! They have electronics and appliances to be selling at almost factory-direct prices! Certainly, a different, more technologically advanced screening process is needed. Are you ready for it?
The automated phone interview.
Press 1 if the answer is "yes"
Press 2 if the answer is "no"
Sounds easy enough. I hate talking on the phone to strangers and a phone interview would be even worse, but going through this with a prerecorded voice would be just fine.
So I'm listening to the questions, hitting the 1's and 2's. "Are you over the age of 16?" 1! "Have you ever been convicted of a crime?" 2! It was going just fine. But then the questions got...questionable.
"If an employee is caught stealing less than a dollar, but confesses and returns the money, should they be given a second chance?"
Ok, in retrospect, I should have thought this through more carefully. Yes, in real life, outside of work, I, Steve Szlaga, would ABSOLUTELY forgive something like that. I am a forgiving person. So yes. Yes I believe that this incident is not punishable by termination. 1. Yes. 1.
But what I should have realized, and now, 12 jobs later, would never forget, is that companies are not people. They are companies. They don't care about you. They don't care if you are broke. They don't care about your uncle Ernie. To them, there is NO excuse for stealing even a penny. Yeah, makes sense. But this is before I became the professional part time employee that I am today. So the answer, of course, should have been 2. No. Fire that bastard who stole 2 dimes and a quarter. Put them in the stocks and throw rocks at them. Hang them if need be.
Then the next question. "If a person steals less than 10 dollars, but confesses and returns the money, should they be given a second chance?"
Well there's nothing to blame but my own stupidity for this one. I mean, I said "yes" to stealing before. I 1'd that other question! I have to stick with it now! What would they think if I keep going all over the board! Stealing good! No...stealing bad! So I said yes. Yes steal more money!
At the end of the interview the automated voice said...
"We're sorry, but you do not meet the requirements for employees that we are looking for."
Probably because they thought I was fucking Charles Boles or something. But after that, it said...
"Please do not participate in this interview until records are erased in 90 days."
So...this was just a practice run. Now I knew the questions better. I could do it right this time. It's like the ACT's. You're allowed to retake as much as you want. Just wait a few months.
But a few weeks later, Old Navy called me with an offer I should have refused. But not to worry. Best Buy would happen soon enough. And let's just say, this little phone interview was only the beginning of my supposed "delinquency" at that place. I was a marked man...
Monday, December 26, 2005
Moose & Squirrel
Christmas was good.
Break is good.
I sleep way too much and I can't help it. I try to get up but...I just can't. Not having anything to get up and do makes it entirely impossible to get up at all. It might be my bed. Or my room in general. It could be...but I have a sneaking suspision that the real reason that I sleep so much is because I stay up late doing stupid things like writing in my blog or watching Roseanne on Nick At Nite.
Remember when I Love Lucy and Happy Days were on Nick At Nite? What happened to that. Then it was Cheers and Three's Company and stuff like that. I could handle that. Even Wings, that was alright with me. But Fresh Prince and Full House? Now, I'm not denying that these shows are indeed as classic as they come, but they don't really go with what Nick At Nite stands for. If I remember watching the show, it is too recent to be on Nick At Night. In fact, anything that was on TV when I stopped crapping my pants is too recent to be on Nick At Nite.
So today was the big day to return Christmas gifts. How appropriate is that? From Thanksgiving to Christmas Day people go INSANE crowding malls and bum rushing the stores to shop for gifts. Then, they give them. Then, they are all returned. But every year people lose their shit over Christmas shopping. But we can't just give everyone gift card, can we? Hell no. I won't give gift cards. There's no thought in that. I don't want to be thoughtless. Getting a gift card is thoughtless. You might as well just forget my birthday and spill grape juice on my floor. Same basic principle.
Especially now that you can buy any Gift Card at 7-11 or Walreens.
Merry Christmas, I got you a 10 dollar gift card to Barnes & Noble. I completely didn't feel like going out and getting you anything but I went to Walgreens to buy bed sore cream and vitamin c tablets and though "aw, what the hell"
Annnnyway
If I'm not sleeping, I'm most likely still laying in bed, either watching Arrested Development or Rocky & Bullwinkle. I freaking love Rocky & Bullwinkle. You may not know that. Go to Universal Studios with me and you'd find out. Do you even KNOW what a Hush-A-Bomb is? You should. It sickens me that you don't.
Last week along with Alicia and Jared I hung out with Tim Kava, Matt Loper, Cody Surles, Christina Hagan, and Keighty McLallen. It was kind of surreal. I don't think I've seen any of them besides Christina (who, incidentally, HAS gone to Universal Studios with me. And no, I did not go on Dueling Dragons. You got Tower of Terror so be satisfied with that. And say Hi to your cousins for me) in like 5 years. And surprise surprise, all we talked about was....HIGH SCHOOL. It was inevitable. Poor Jared had know idea what or who we were talking about. Maybe it's better that way.
So...I'll write Chapter 4 tomorrow. I'm on 4 right? Best Buy, yeah that's 4. I need to get a move on. I still have 11 more to go...
Break is good.
I sleep way too much and I can't help it. I try to get up but...I just can't. Not having anything to get up and do makes it entirely impossible to get up at all. It might be my bed. Or my room in general. It could be...but I have a sneaking suspision that the real reason that I sleep so much is because I stay up late doing stupid things like writing in my blog or watching Roseanne on Nick At Nite.
Remember when I Love Lucy and Happy Days were on Nick At Nite? What happened to that. Then it was Cheers and Three's Company and stuff like that. I could handle that. Even Wings, that was alright with me. But Fresh Prince and Full House? Now, I'm not denying that these shows are indeed as classic as they come, but they don't really go with what Nick At Nite stands for. If I remember watching the show, it is too recent to be on Nick At Night. In fact, anything that was on TV when I stopped crapping my pants is too recent to be on Nick At Nite.
So today was the big day to return Christmas gifts. How appropriate is that? From Thanksgiving to Christmas Day people go INSANE crowding malls and bum rushing the stores to shop for gifts. Then, they give them. Then, they are all returned. But every year people lose their shit over Christmas shopping. But we can't just give everyone gift card, can we? Hell no. I won't give gift cards. There's no thought in that. I don't want to be thoughtless. Getting a gift card is thoughtless. You might as well just forget my birthday and spill grape juice on my floor. Same basic principle.
Especially now that you can buy any Gift Card at 7-11 or Walreens.
Merry Christmas, I got you a 10 dollar gift card to Barnes & Noble. I completely didn't feel like going out and getting you anything but I went to Walgreens to buy bed sore cream and vitamin c tablets and though "aw, what the hell"
Annnnyway
If I'm not sleeping, I'm most likely still laying in bed, either watching Arrested Development or Rocky & Bullwinkle. I freaking love Rocky & Bullwinkle. You may not know that. Go to Universal Studios with me and you'd find out. Do you even KNOW what a Hush-A-Bomb is? You should. It sickens me that you don't.
Last week along with Alicia and Jared I hung out with Tim Kava, Matt Loper, Cody Surles, Christina Hagan, and Keighty McLallen. It was kind of surreal. I don't think I've seen any of them besides Christina (who, incidentally, HAS gone to Universal Studios with me. And no, I did not go on Dueling Dragons. You got Tower of Terror so be satisfied with that. And say Hi to your cousins for me) in like 5 years. And surprise surprise, all we talked about was....HIGH SCHOOL. It was inevitable. Poor Jared had know idea what or who we were talking about. Maybe it's better that way.
So...I'll write Chapter 4 tomorrow. I'm on 4 right? Best Buy, yeah that's 4. I need to get a move on. I still have 11 more to go...
Friday, December 23, 2005
Disconnected
I went to Old Navy today. The Old Navy I used to work at. (See Chapter 3)
There was a girl working at the counter that I recognized. I recognized her because I went to High School with her. Also, she worked there when I was there. That was the summer of 2000. 5 years ago. I mean, I guess that's no big deal. 5 years at the same place. Good for you, I say. Same with Eric. He started at Best Buy around the same time as me. Which, as a matter of fact, was shortly after I quit Old Navy.
My point is. For me, that was forever ago. A lifetime. And I'm kind of jealous of that girl at Old Navy. And of Eric. Ever since High School, nothing in my life seems to last. It took me three years in High School to find something for me to do. Something I was good at. That was acting. But it seemed like in the blink of an eye, I was graduating. I finally found something. I finally belonged somewhere. I was no longer sitting at a different lunch table every day. I was a part of something. And I was proud of it. Then, it was over. Graduation. On to Western.
Goodbye Novi.
Western was great. But I'm not even going to start talking about my times there. I think everyone who knows me is pretty sick of hearing about WMU.
Then, I moved to Florida.
Goodbye Western.
Then, I moved to Chicago.
Goodbye Disney.
In a few years, I'll be graduating, and most likely moving again.
Goodbye Chicago.
I don't regret anything I've done with my life. I am incredibly lucky to have had the experiences and friendships I've had. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. But I do get jealous of the people who have stayed put. Or those who graduated, went to school, and stayed there. They have their two worlds. Home and College. They have constants in their lives. I don't. My life, my memories, my friendships, my everything....it's all over the place.
Hey, remember when we did this? Oh wait, that wasn't you. It was my friend who was the equivalent of you before I moved here.
Haha, this reminds me of the time that we...oh wait. That wasn't us. That was somewhere else. With someone else. Someone that you replaced.
A good friend recently told me I need to learn to let things go. I don't think they understand how many things I've had to let go of already.
So, this semester's end makes it official. I have been at Columbia just as long as I was at Western. And longer than I was in Florida. So why don't I feel settled? Why do I feel I can never really connect with people here? Is it because I know that I'll be leaving them, just as I did everyone else? Or is it because I've already done this...had these friends...did these things...said these words...played these games....in another place and time? I've met some incredible people in Chicago, and the last thing I want to do is refer to them as "replacements." Because they aren't. They aren't replacements. They aren't substitutes. They're...something new. And different.
Right???
Yes. They are. I know they are. Comparing them to the people of my past doesn't do them justice. Nor does it do justice to the people of my past. I guess all I can do is consider myself lucky to have a life so chuck full of so many crazy, amazing, hilarious, tragic, inspiring, influential friends, from all over the place.
There was a girl working at the counter that I recognized. I recognized her because I went to High School with her. Also, she worked there when I was there. That was the summer of 2000. 5 years ago. I mean, I guess that's no big deal. 5 years at the same place. Good for you, I say. Same with Eric. He started at Best Buy around the same time as me. Which, as a matter of fact, was shortly after I quit Old Navy.
My point is. For me, that was forever ago. A lifetime. And I'm kind of jealous of that girl at Old Navy. And of Eric. Ever since High School, nothing in my life seems to last. It took me three years in High School to find something for me to do. Something I was good at. That was acting. But it seemed like in the blink of an eye, I was graduating. I finally found something. I finally belonged somewhere. I was no longer sitting at a different lunch table every day. I was a part of something. And I was proud of it. Then, it was over. Graduation. On to Western.
Goodbye Novi.
Western was great. But I'm not even going to start talking about my times there. I think everyone who knows me is pretty sick of hearing about WMU.
Then, I moved to Florida.
Goodbye Western.
Then, I moved to Chicago.
Goodbye Disney.
In a few years, I'll be graduating, and most likely moving again.
Goodbye Chicago.
I don't regret anything I've done with my life. I am incredibly lucky to have had the experiences and friendships I've had. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. But I do get jealous of the people who have stayed put. Or those who graduated, went to school, and stayed there. They have their two worlds. Home and College. They have constants in their lives. I don't. My life, my memories, my friendships, my everything....it's all over the place.
Hey, remember when we did this? Oh wait, that wasn't you. It was my friend who was the equivalent of you before I moved here.
Haha, this reminds me of the time that we...oh wait. That wasn't us. That was somewhere else. With someone else. Someone that you replaced.
A good friend recently told me I need to learn to let things go. I don't think they understand how many things I've had to let go of already.
So, this semester's end makes it official. I have been at Columbia just as long as I was at Western. And longer than I was in Florida. So why don't I feel settled? Why do I feel I can never really connect with people here? Is it because I know that I'll be leaving them, just as I did everyone else? Or is it because I've already done this...had these friends...did these things...said these words...played these games....in another place and time? I've met some incredible people in Chicago, and the last thing I want to do is refer to them as "replacements." Because they aren't. They aren't replacements. They aren't substitutes. They're...something new. And different.
Right???
Yes. They are. I know they are. Comparing them to the people of my past doesn't do them justice. Nor does it do justice to the people of my past. I guess all I can do is consider myself lucky to have a life so chuck full of so many crazy, amazing, hilarious, tragic, inspiring, influential friends, from all over the place.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Chuggin along
I’m on the train right now. Thank god for laptops. I am currently getting my ass kicked at solitaire, while Sudoku is handing Ashley her ass on a silver platter. Our train had to stop for freight traffic for a while. A long while. Luckily we are moving again and should hopefully be back to Detroit in time for Christmas, although keep in mind that Amtrak did not make that guarantee. I hate the word “guarantee.” It is fucking impossible to deal with. GUARANTEE. I spelled it wrong three times before I finally asked spell-check. Screw you Microsoft Works, I’ll figure it out on my own. Even more irony…I spelled “spell-check” wrong. There is a hyphen in between the two words. It is not one word. It is not, what you may recall from second grade, a compound word. Like butterfly or applebottom. Stupid AutoCorrect keeps separating Apple and Bottom into two separate words. Shame on you. What would Nelly say? These are not problems that I encounter when I am updating my blog with regular internet access. SCREW YOU MICROSOFT WORKS “BLOG” IS A WORD. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT. Webster’s even recognizes it as a word. Well. I don’t know. But I bet they do.
Anyway, train. So Amtrak messed up Ashley’s ticket which was not cool. But we still got on the train. We almost didn’t get to sit together but these really nice old foreign people switched over so we could. They have eaten twice since we left Chicago. Healthy appetites over there. The man took a nap and when he woke up he asked me to go get him coffee from the dining car. I obliged. I felt I owed it to him since he DID switch seats for us. But he didn’t tip me.
Oh, and Scott Myers is on the train too. What’s a train ride without Scott!
These weekend was filled to the brim with Christmas miracles. The first being our drive by the Home Alone house. No. I mean we drove by it. I don’t mean we were part of a drive-by in front of it. That’s morbid. The house looks just like it did in the movie, only the statue that the pizza man knocks over is no longer there. We ate at the Panera that used to be the super market where Maculy Culkin buys the toothbrush. I’m surprised Winnetca doesn’t have a more thriving tourist industry.
Yesterday Dave and Matt came back to Chicago and we went with Ashley, Jill, and Jess to see….JERRY SPRINGER. My internship is over and I spent my first free Monday in 3 months doing what? Going to see the damn show. It was a scene. I got us on the VIP list so we were in the very front row where all the action was. I got to sit next to a security guard and Jill got to sit next to Steve, who, by the way, doesn’t do anything. Got plenty of views of disgusting boobs and hairy backs and butt crack. Talk about Christmas cheer! Everyone had a good time.
And that’s that. Once we get to Ann Arbor we are going to Ashley’s sister’s Birthday Party, then Novi, HERE I COME!
Anyway, train. So Amtrak messed up Ashley’s ticket which was not cool. But we still got on the train. We almost didn’t get to sit together but these really nice old foreign people switched over so we could. They have eaten twice since we left Chicago. Healthy appetites over there. The man took a nap and when he woke up he asked me to go get him coffee from the dining car. I obliged. I felt I owed it to him since he DID switch seats for us. But he didn’t tip me.
Oh, and Scott Myers is on the train too. What’s a train ride without Scott!
These weekend was filled to the brim with Christmas miracles. The first being our drive by the Home Alone house. No. I mean we drove by it. I don’t mean we were part of a drive-by in front of it. That’s morbid. The house looks just like it did in the movie, only the statue that the pizza man knocks over is no longer there. We ate at the Panera that used to be the super market where Maculy Culkin buys the toothbrush. I’m surprised Winnetca doesn’t have a more thriving tourist industry.
Yesterday Dave and Matt came back to Chicago and we went with Ashley, Jill, and Jess to see….JERRY SPRINGER. My internship is over and I spent my first free Monday in 3 months doing what? Going to see the damn show. It was a scene. I got us on the VIP list so we were in the very front row where all the action was. I got to sit next to a security guard and Jill got to sit next to Steve, who, by the way, doesn’t do anything. Got plenty of views of disgusting boobs and hairy backs and butt crack. Talk about Christmas cheer! Everyone had a good time.
And that’s that. Once we get to Ann Arbor we are going to Ashley’s sister’s Birthday Party, then Novi, HERE I COME!
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