I only heard a brief segment of your phone-ins this morning about things being flushed down the story and what makes it worthwhile to fetch. It really brought me back to my childhood. I'm 28 right now. Let me tell you a story.Quite a few years ago, when I was probably 8-10 years old, my brother (he is 3.5 years older than me) & I went trick-or-treating on Halloween and I always finished my candy before anyone else did so, it was probably a week after Halloween or so and I wanted some candy. So, what's a girl to do? She goes and asks big brother for some candy. You think he'd give me any? Of course not! SO, I had to put up a fight. I followed him around the house begging and finally followed him to just outside the bathroom door.Here I am, outside the bathroom door banging on it saying, "Just a lollipop, all I want is a lollipop!" and hearing "no" as a response, SO, I kept it up, FINALLY he finished his business & pulled up his pants, so the door opened and he yells "FINE!" and flushes the toilet, reaches down just to the side of the toilet and pulls a dum dum pop out of his candy bucket, as he goes to hand it to me, it hits the flusher and falls in the toilet. The toilet is still flushing and he reaches his hand in the toilet and grabs the dum dum back out and tries to give it to me.
"EWWWWWWW! I'm not eating THAT! I want a CLEAN lollipop!" I said.I never DID get a lollipop, but it brings tears of laughter to my eyes EVERY time that story is told.
So, for my brother, he'd sacrifice reaching in the potty to save a dum dum pop. Me, on the other hand, I've never reached in the potty, but I'd probably save my book or my cell phone LOL
Friday, September 4, 2009
Email Time!
This is the email my sister CC'd me on as she was sending it to a radio station. True story.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Numbers Numbers Everywhere!
Saturday, I truly learned how different this great city I live in is compared to most other places I've lived (and apparently a lot of other places in the country). And, not so much that, but how acclimated I've become to this place that it's difficult to think any other way.
I was selling a bunch of stuff on Craigslist that I have been trying to rid of for a while now. I figured it's college time, so students may be interested if they're going to be living off campus or something maybe. Yes, I know May is a betterer time, but still. I was busy in May. I'll continue until I get it sold, but that's not the story.
The person who wanted my entertainment tower set (ya know, the things that hold your TV and all it's components) was a very friendly Indian guy. He had just moved to the Atlanta area from Minnesota (I'm sure he's thankful he doesn't have to deal with THAT winter). Apparently his line of work what he does is moves to a new place, buys what he can to furnish an apartment cheap (hence Craigslist), and sell what he can at the end of his stay before moving on.
He came to my place (after getting lost, which brings to light more of the fact I can't get pizza delivered to my house) to take a look at the tower set and said he wanted it. The problem was he came in a sedan and couldn't fit it. He was going to have mover people transport it for him and he wanted to negotiate. I didn't want to drop my price, so I increased it a bit and said I would deliver it for him since I have a truck and he was only in Dunwoody. Yay, he agreed.
Then came the complicated part. I asked whereabouts in Dunwoody he lived. He started out with something that sounded like "take 285 to exit 24..." and my eyes glazed over. I had to stop him and say "Ok, don't do exit numbers, I don't know them. Only street names."
Unfortunately, he partially misunderstood me because he started to explain that 285 was an interstate.
I chuckled at our minor language barrier.
When we got on the same page, I learned where he lived and said I would deliver it the next morning.
Then I got to thinking what exactly changed?
Everywhere else I lived, I went by exit numbers. Easthampton, MA is exit 17B on I-91. The exit I lived on out of college was exit 20 off 95/128. The exit that was commonly taken by people to get to my college (until you knew the shorter ways) was 28A. These were numbers I lived by.
Until Atlanta.
I couldn't even TELL you the exit number I live off of (ok, there would be a number of exits to take depending on which direction you're coming, but that's another story). I know the names of the roads, but not the numbers.
People who are new to the area want exit numbers. They get mad when I tell them I don't know the numbers, but can give them the names of several exits before the one I want them to take.
I think the difference is the sheer size of the city. In any other place I've lived, an exit takes you in the general direction of a town or city. Here, the exit takes you to a specific road name (until you get a distance outside the city, then it's a combination of the two).
Another theory I have is the people. I think it was up until the '96 Olympics here, there were different exit numbers depending on which direction you were traveling that would get to the same location. One direction the exit for North Druid Hills would be Exit 89. The opposite direction it could be Exit 84 (There were some exits that only existed on one side of the Interstate, so the numbers got off). Based on this, I think people decided to give road names instead of numbers because it got complicated.
Whatever the reason is, I hope that traveling to other parts of the country again doesn't get me confused as I'm looking for friends places. Of course, the great thing is I now have a GPS which will reduce the chances of me getting lost.
....Now, if only pizza deliveries can start using GPS to deliver to me!
I was selling a bunch of stuff on Craigslist that I have been trying to rid of for a while now. I figured it's college time, so students may be interested if they're going to be living off campus or something maybe. Yes, I know May is a betterer time, but still. I was busy in May. I'll continue until I get it sold, but that's not the story.
The person who wanted my entertainment tower set (ya know, the things that hold your TV and all it's components) was a very friendly Indian guy. He had just moved to the Atlanta area from Minnesota (I'm sure he's thankful he doesn't have to deal with THAT winter). Apparently his line of work what he does is moves to a new place, buys what he can to furnish an apartment cheap (hence Craigslist), and sell what he can at the end of his stay before moving on.
He came to my place (after getting lost, which brings to light more of the fact I can't get pizza delivered to my house) to take a look at the tower set and said he wanted it. The problem was he came in a sedan and couldn't fit it. He was going to have mover people transport it for him and he wanted to negotiate. I didn't want to drop my price, so I increased it a bit and said I would deliver it for him since I have a truck and he was only in Dunwoody. Yay, he agreed.
Then came the complicated part. I asked whereabouts in Dunwoody he lived. He started out with something that sounded like "take 285 to exit 24..." and my eyes glazed over. I had to stop him and say "Ok, don't do exit numbers, I don't know them. Only street names."
Unfortunately, he partially misunderstood me because he started to explain that 285 was an interstate.
I chuckled at our minor language barrier.
When we got on the same page, I learned where he lived and said I would deliver it the next morning.
Then I got to thinking what exactly changed?
Everywhere else I lived, I went by exit numbers. Easthampton, MA is exit 17B on I-91. The exit I lived on out of college was exit 20 off 95/128. The exit that was commonly taken by people to get to my college (until you knew the shorter ways) was 28A. These were numbers I lived by.
Until Atlanta.
I couldn't even TELL you the exit number I live off of (ok, there would be a number of exits to take depending on which direction you're coming, but that's another story). I know the names of the roads, but not the numbers.
People who are new to the area want exit numbers. They get mad when I tell them I don't know the numbers, but can give them the names of several exits before the one I want them to take.
I think the difference is the sheer size of the city. In any other place I've lived, an exit takes you in the general direction of a town or city. Here, the exit takes you to a specific road name (until you get a distance outside the city, then it's a combination of the two).
Another theory I have is the people. I think it was up until the '96 Olympics here, there were different exit numbers depending on which direction you were traveling that would get to the same location. One direction the exit for North Druid Hills would be Exit 89. The opposite direction it could be Exit 84 (There were some exits that only existed on one side of the Interstate, so the numbers got off). Based on this, I think people decided to give road names instead of numbers because it got complicated.
Whatever the reason is, I hope that traveling to other parts of the country again doesn't get me confused as I'm looking for friends places. Of course, the great thing is I now have a GPS which will reduce the chances of me getting lost.
....Now, if only pizza deliveries can start using GPS to deliver to me!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
I love my dentist!
Once upon a time, there was this boy. His parents didn't particularly bring him to the dentist as a child, so he didn't totally know what good oral hygene was. He wasn't big with brushing his teeth either.
During his last two years of high school, his grandmother made him go to the dentist. This dentist was a very scary man. So scary that when he would clean the boy's teeth, there would be chunks of gum tissue in the rinse-spit. And that second visit with the scary dentist, there was a cavity that needed filling. The scary dentist didn't even let the Novocaine set in prior to drilling.
Terrified, the boy didn't go to a dentist for about eleven years. And during these eleven years, the boy became a man.
Then the man decided he didn't want to be paying for dental insurance if he wasn't going to use it. With this thoughts, the man decided he wanted to find a dentist. But the man was too scared to do this alone.
One fateful spring day, the man went out to dinner with a group of people from the Gay and Lesbian Alliance club through work. At this dinner, he started talking with this other gentleman who knew of this awesome dentist. He talked very highly of her and said he did a lot of research even before going to her. He mentioned that she also is "family" and suggested the man go see her.
A few days later, the man mustered up some courage and dialed the phone to her office. The man had mentioned I think I need an appointment, and the receptionist said "how's tomorrow sound?"
That terrified the man. He's been afraid of dentists for eleven years and they want to see him the next day. He asked for something later, and they suggested the following day. He said "You don't understand. Don't you have something three years from now? I'm terrified."
The receptionist laughed and said the latest she would go is the following Monday because the man would have to get over his fear. Reluctantly, the man agreed.
The fateful day of the following Monday came and he met the dentist. She seemed nice enough. She also seemed intent that the man needed to have some root planing done. The man had no idea what this was and was shaken up. The dentist noticed this, so she prescribed something to calm the man's nerves during the procedure, forcing him to beg for rides since it would be done two quadrants at a time.
The day of the first fateful appointment, the man came in terrified. He had taken his "calm down" meds, but it didnt' seem to help. He got in the scary chair and she said they would numb him up for the scaling to reduce the amount of pain the man had to go through. A couple pinches later and the man could have been punched in the face and not felt it. They started scraping and everything and the man tasted blood left and right. Could this be a repeat of the last fateful dentist appointment? Determined to be brave, the man allowed things to continue.
There was also counting happening. Lots of 5's were mentioned. 5's are really bad, the man was told. It's the gap between the gumline and the tooth. The man was at serious risk of having major problems if things weren't taken care of. Also, there were cavities.
Slowly, the man and his dentist worked to resolve all the cavities, but the man still wasn't doing a lot on his own to keep brushing (much less flossing). He wasn't accustomed to doing it on a regular basis, so he kept forgetting. And one of the cavities was so deep that a regular filling didn't resolve it. The man needed a root canal!
The man was TERRIFIED. He had heard horror stories of root canals. He cried for the few minutes his dentist was away, but he braved up. The dentist started the procedure by numbing the man. All the man felt was a little bit of pressure while the nerves were removed. It wasn't so bad afterall.
The man slowly decided that he wanted to continue to keep his teeth. And the dentist gave a plan on things the man may want to do in order to make his teeth look awesome. This plan, however, was contingent on his gums getting better. So she sent the man to an awesome periodontist to help things out.
A few visits back and forth and the man's teeth started to be better. "Extreme Makeover Dental Edition" he called it. The man also purchased a Sonicare toothbrush to try to help. The man finally got on a regimen to brush his teeth on a nightly basis, and that helped. The dentist and periodontist was seeing an improvement, but kept telling the man he needed to floss more. The man wanted to, but he never felt like he needed it.
One day at work, the man got into a discussion with a coworker of his as to who had the more awesome dentist. They both argued back and forth for about two minutes until they decided to ask each other who the other's dentist was. Turns out they both visit the same dentist (and hygenist).
Then the man's teeth and gums got to a point where his dentist said they could do Invisaligns. The man wanted to have his teeth straightened as they looked horrible, so he agreed that's what they would do once he had a Flexible Spending Account to pay for it.
In the spring of 2009, the man went to the dentist and got fitted for his Invisaligns. That was an adventure as the two spent almost three hours taking impressions. But they got them and sent the impressions off to the powers that be. After about two months, the man was approved for Invisaligns and trays were created.
With the Invisaligns, the dentist informed the man that he would need to floss more. Specifically because he would feel ANYTHING stuck between his teeth. "Great!", the man thought, "This will help me get myself on track!"
The first week of Invisaligns, the man got on a regimen of brushing AND flossing after every meal. He was pulling out huge chunks of food he didn't realize were getting stuck between his teeth. One day, he ate a Big Mac and it seemed a whole head of lettuce came out from between his teeth. But, he was doing pretty good!
Now, it was Wednesday, August 26, and the man had another appointment with his awesome dentist. He had been brushing and flossing diligently since his last visit. He was on his 8th Invisalign tray and everyone was anxious to see the progress with the teeth. His hopes were that it was going to be an easy appointment. He anxiously sat in the chair and joked with his awesome hygenist about a few things. Then he sat back and let her have a look.
She started poking and prodding. "All 3's", she said. THREES! The man was excited he had threes! He thought he might have better numbers if his teeth weren't moving with the Invisaligns. He wasn't going to press it, though. He'll sit and wait until next year to see if he could get to 2's.
Then she was scraping around his teeth. And then she was done. He didn't feel a lot of scraping happening and she said there was very little tartar on his teeth and she didn't have to do much and she was going to polish him up and get the dentist to take a look. So, polishing she went.
While the hygenist was out of the room, the man happened to look down at his bib. There was NO blood on it. This was the first time EVER that the man had ever been to a dentist and not seen any blood on the bib. At ALL. He was excited. Then when the dentist came into the room he joked he didn't think the hygenist really did anything since there was no blood on the bib. They all had a great laugh.
The boy left the dentist's office with a huge smile on his face knowing that not only has his oral hygene improved, but his teeth are looking awesome!
The End.
In case y'all didn't know, that boy/man in the story was me. I was SUPER-EXCITED at my appointment yesterday at the progress I made. I even jumped up and down and gave my hot lesbian dentist and awesome hygenist a HUGE hug! And I'm not quite where I want to be yet!
...Now, if only I could lose some pounds... I need to find some way to convince myself to get to the gym and eat more fruits and vegetables...
During his last two years of high school, his grandmother made him go to the dentist. This dentist was a very scary man. So scary that when he would clean the boy's teeth, there would be chunks of gum tissue in the rinse-spit. And that second visit with the scary dentist, there was a cavity that needed filling. The scary dentist didn't even let the Novocaine set in prior to drilling.
Terrified, the boy didn't go to a dentist for about eleven years. And during these eleven years, the boy became a man.
Then the man decided he didn't want to be paying for dental insurance if he wasn't going to use it. With this thoughts, the man decided he wanted to find a dentist. But the man was too scared to do this alone.
One fateful spring day, the man went out to dinner with a group of people from the Gay and Lesbian Alliance club through work. At this dinner, he started talking with this other gentleman who knew of this awesome dentist. He talked very highly of her and said he did a lot of research even before going to her. He mentioned that she also is "family" and suggested the man go see her.
A few days later, the man mustered up some courage and dialed the phone to her office. The man had mentioned I think I need an appointment, and the receptionist said "how's tomorrow sound?"
That terrified the man. He's been afraid of dentists for eleven years and they want to see him the next day. He asked for something later, and they suggested the following day. He said "You don't understand. Don't you have something three years from now? I'm terrified."
The receptionist laughed and said the latest she would go is the following Monday because the man would have to get over his fear. Reluctantly, the man agreed.
The fateful day of the following Monday came and he met the dentist. She seemed nice enough. She also seemed intent that the man needed to have some root planing done. The man had no idea what this was and was shaken up. The dentist noticed this, so she prescribed something to calm the man's nerves during the procedure, forcing him to beg for rides since it would be done two quadrants at a time.
The day of the first fateful appointment, the man came in terrified. He had taken his "calm down" meds, but it didnt' seem to help. He got in the scary chair and she said they would numb him up for the scaling to reduce the amount of pain the man had to go through. A couple pinches later and the man could have been punched in the face and not felt it. They started scraping and everything and the man tasted blood left and right. Could this be a repeat of the last fateful dentist appointment? Determined to be brave, the man allowed things to continue.
There was also counting happening. Lots of 5's were mentioned. 5's are really bad, the man was told. It's the gap between the gumline and the tooth. The man was at serious risk of having major problems if things weren't taken care of. Also, there were cavities.
Slowly, the man and his dentist worked to resolve all the cavities, but the man still wasn't doing a lot on his own to keep brushing (much less flossing). He wasn't accustomed to doing it on a regular basis, so he kept forgetting. And one of the cavities was so deep that a regular filling didn't resolve it. The man needed a root canal!
The man was TERRIFIED. He had heard horror stories of root canals. He cried for the few minutes his dentist was away, but he braved up. The dentist started the procedure by numbing the man. All the man felt was a little bit of pressure while the nerves were removed. It wasn't so bad afterall.
The man slowly decided that he wanted to continue to keep his teeth. And the dentist gave a plan on things the man may want to do in order to make his teeth look awesome. This plan, however, was contingent on his gums getting better. So she sent the man to an awesome periodontist to help things out.
A few visits back and forth and the man's teeth started to be better. "Extreme Makeover Dental Edition" he called it. The man also purchased a Sonicare toothbrush to try to help. The man finally got on a regimen to brush his teeth on a nightly basis, and that helped. The dentist and periodontist was seeing an improvement, but kept telling the man he needed to floss more. The man wanted to, but he never felt like he needed it.
One day at work, the man got into a discussion with a coworker of his as to who had the more awesome dentist. They both argued back and forth for about two minutes until they decided to ask each other who the other's dentist was. Turns out they both visit the same dentist (and hygenist).
Then the man's teeth and gums got to a point where his dentist said they could do Invisaligns. The man wanted to have his teeth straightened as they looked horrible, so he agreed that's what they would do once he had a Flexible Spending Account to pay for it.
In the spring of 2009, the man went to the dentist and got fitted for his Invisaligns. That was an adventure as the two spent almost three hours taking impressions. But they got them and sent the impressions off to the powers that be. After about two months, the man was approved for Invisaligns and trays were created.
With the Invisaligns, the dentist informed the man that he would need to floss more. Specifically because he would feel ANYTHING stuck between his teeth. "Great!", the man thought, "This will help me get myself on track!"
The first week of Invisaligns, the man got on a regimen of brushing AND flossing after every meal. He was pulling out huge chunks of food he didn't realize were getting stuck between his teeth. One day, he ate a Big Mac and it seemed a whole head of lettuce came out from between his teeth. But, he was doing pretty good!
Now, it was Wednesday, August 26, and the man had another appointment with his awesome dentist. He had been brushing and flossing diligently since his last visit. He was on his 8th Invisalign tray and everyone was anxious to see the progress with the teeth. His hopes were that it was going to be an easy appointment. He anxiously sat in the chair and joked with his awesome hygenist about a few things. Then he sat back and let her have a look.
She started poking and prodding. "All 3's", she said. THREES! The man was excited he had threes! He thought he might have better numbers if his teeth weren't moving with the Invisaligns. He wasn't going to press it, though. He'll sit and wait until next year to see if he could get to 2's.
Then she was scraping around his teeth. And then she was done. He didn't feel a lot of scraping happening and she said there was very little tartar on his teeth and she didn't have to do much and she was going to polish him up and get the dentist to take a look. So, polishing she went.
While the hygenist was out of the room, the man happened to look down at his bib. There was NO blood on it. This was the first time EVER that the man had ever been to a dentist and not seen any blood on the bib. At ALL. He was excited. Then when the dentist came into the room he joked he didn't think the hygenist really did anything since there was no blood on the bib. They all had a great laugh.
The boy left the dentist's office with a huge smile on his face knowing that not only has his oral hygene improved, but his teeth are looking awesome!
The End.
In case y'all didn't know, that boy/man in the story was me. I was SUPER-EXCITED at my appointment yesterday at the progress I made. I even jumped up and down and gave my hot lesbian dentist and awesome hygenist a HUGE hug! And I'm not quite where I want to be yet!
...Now, if only I could lose some pounds... I need to find some way to convince myself to get to the gym and eat more fruits and vegetables...
Thursday, August 13, 2009
"I think he's on drugs"
So, one of my fellow Bentley Alumns (different year though) has been trying to land a job. I'm pulling for him (c'mon, his Musical Resume is wicked awesome. Someone needs to hire him NOW I say!).
Anyways, he just changed cellphone companies and I twittered that he can now get pranked by potential employers and that I had a story about my past similar. I thought I'd share (and for those of you who already know this story, SUFFER through it again!)
As my five readers (yes, I've somehow upgraded it seems) may or may not know, when I first moved to Atlanta, I had difficulties finding a position in the IT field. This was shortly after I lost my job in Boston due to the Dot-Com Bust. I was tired of Boston, so I moved to Atlanta. After SEVERAL months of searching (and a few interviews), I was getting desperate with money running out, so I applied for and got a position waiting tables at Waffle House.
Yes, I said it. Waffle House.
Don't believe me? Here's a pic or two:
I started working around Christmas time of '01 and spent thirteen LONG months there working the night shift (9pm-7am).
Now, enter December '02. My regular Waffle House schedule was Sunday-Wednesday 9pm-7am. I woke up that Wednesday night to go into work and I had no hot water. I called the emergency number for my apartment complex and they promised to have someone out first thing in the morning. Gee, I get to go to work unshowered. Luckily I showered that morning...
I worked my ten hours and left about quarter after seven. I stopped by Jesus Chicken on the way home to get my "breakfast-dinner" and I went home to wait for the hot water heater guy.
He showed up about 8:30 (Oh yeah, did I mention I complained loudly that I work nights and needed him to come as early as possible so I didn't lose much sleep?) and replaced my hot water heater. 11:30 he was done and I was PRAYING for the hot water to heat up so I could shower and go to bed. Noon I did one of those "quick showers" since I knew I had minutes of hot water then went to bed.
About 2:00pm my cell phone rings. I'm dead to the world at this point (as it's the equivalent of a "normal person" being called at 2am after getting to bed after midnight). I hear the words "health care" in the caller's greeting, so I go into "telemarketer mode" -- which is where I unconsciously answer all the questions and when they ask if I'm interested, say no. Hey, if you're gonna waste my time, I'm gonna waste yours.
Anyways, I get to the "Are you interested?" part of the conversation and I say "no." -- She asks why and states that it would be a great opportunity and I start to wake up and realize I had been on an initial phone screen interview. I explain the ordeal to the HR person and set up an interview for a few days later. (The company was basically a managed health care organization -- think nursing homes)
(That part of the story is the reason for the aforementioned Twitter update)
Of course, these interviews are AFTER my regular shifts at Waffle House, so I'm PRAYING I don't yawn or fall asleep during them.
My first interview was with the lead technical guy. It was a "how well do you interact" interview. The only thing I really remember from the event was him saying "eh" and I jokingly asked if he was from Canada. He made some snide "Stupid Americans" remark saying I wouldn't even know where Nova Scotia (the province he's from) was -- I proudly described it's location then informed him I cheated 'cuz my sister's husband's (ok, he wasn't husband at the time) family is from there.
The second interview was with the boss man. Again, one of those "how well do you interact" interviews. He also said his whole vision for the system they were creating.
Oh yeah, did I mention I NEVER dealt with the database software I was interviewing for? But they loved the fact I had a multi-dimensional background. Of course, I'm throwing out ideas that I pick up on things fast and am doing anything I can to get the position.
I'm asked back for a THIRD interview. This was when I interviewed back with Canadian on a more technical basis and then I got to talk with the two Financial Analysts I was going to support. Now, back to the idea I had NEVER dealt with (or even heard the word Essbase before), I'm supposed to be able to do some technical stuff with it? Ok, here goes.
Canadian is interested in my debugging skills. So he shows me some of the actual real-life calculation problems he's encountered with Hyperion's piss-poor compiler error messages as to what's wrong. I reiterated that I had never seen Essbase prior to this encounter, but was able to find all four problems in the four scripts he showed me (one he admitted it took him three hours to discover the problem and I found the missing semi-colon in thirty seconds).
I then got to sit with the Financial Analysts. Honestly, I didn't like them. They seemed snooty to me. (Later I realized how awesome and cool they were and admitted my first impression to them -- they said they get it all the time).
I then got called back for a FOURTH interview. Yes people, I said FOURTH. This is getting to be the equivalent of running 14-hour workdays in order to do the commutes and such.
The fourth interview I interviewed with the SVP of the Finance Dept (I wasn't in IT, I was in the Finance Dept as IT couldn't figure out the exact needs of the users). Dude told me it was between me and this other girl and told me I practically had the job, there was just logistics they had to go through. I'm wondering why he's telling me all this, and later hear him say he's leaving the company soon anyways, so he's wondering why he had to interview me. Gee.
I got home about noon after that interview and went to bed. For some reason I woke up about 2:30 and went downstairs (where my phone was charging) and I had a voicemail. It was the HR peeps from said company wanting to talk to me. I called them back and I got a job offer (after about a month of interviews).
Of course, when I went and told my manager at Waffle House, he BEGGED me to stay (apparently I was the ONLY one of his employees he could trust). I told him I couldn't because Waffle House didn't offer me the benefits and such that this new position. Not to mention daylight hours!
Fast forward one year. We're doing our celebrations of birthdays and anniversaries. Canadian dude proclaims the following story:
Anyways, he just changed cellphone companies and I twittered that he can now get pranked by potential employers and that I had a story about my past similar. I thought I'd share (and for those of you who already know this story, SUFFER through it again!)
As my five readers (yes, I've somehow upgraded it seems) may or may not know, when I first moved to Atlanta, I had difficulties finding a position in the IT field. This was shortly after I lost my job in Boston due to the Dot-Com Bust. I was tired of Boston, so I moved to Atlanta. After SEVERAL months of searching (and a few interviews), I was getting desperate with money running out, so I applied for and got a position waiting tables at Waffle House.
Yes, I said it. Waffle House.
Don't believe me? Here's a pic or two:
I started working around Christmas time of '01 and spent thirteen LONG months there working the night shift (9pm-7am).Now, enter December '02. My regular Waffle House schedule was Sunday-Wednesday 9pm-7am. I woke up that Wednesday night to go into work and I had no hot water. I called the emergency number for my apartment complex and they promised to have someone out first thing in the morning. Gee, I get to go to work unshowered. Luckily I showered that morning...
I worked my ten hours and left about quarter after seven. I stopped by Jesus Chicken on the way home to get my "breakfast-dinner" and I went home to wait for the hot water heater guy.
He showed up about 8:30 (Oh yeah, did I mention I complained loudly that I work nights and needed him to come as early as possible so I didn't lose much sleep?) and replaced my hot water heater. 11:30 he was done and I was PRAYING for the hot water to heat up so I could shower and go to bed. Noon I did one of those "quick showers" since I knew I had minutes of hot water then went to bed.
About 2:00pm my cell phone rings. I'm dead to the world at this point (as it's the equivalent of a "normal person" being called at 2am after getting to bed after midnight). I hear the words "health care" in the caller's greeting, so I go into "telemarketer mode" -- which is where I unconsciously answer all the questions and when they ask if I'm interested, say no. Hey, if you're gonna waste my time, I'm gonna waste yours.
Anyways, I get to the "Are you interested?" part of the conversation and I say "no." -- She asks why and states that it would be a great opportunity and I start to wake up and realize I had been on an initial phone screen interview. I explain the ordeal to the HR person and set up an interview for a few days later. (The company was basically a managed health care organization -- think nursing homes)
(That part of the story is the reason for the aforementioned Twitter update)
Of course, these interviews are AFTER my regular shifts at Waffle House, so I'm PRAYING I don't yawn or fall asleep during them.
My first interview was with the lead technical guy. It was a "how well do you interact" interview. The only thing I really remember from the event was him saying "eh" and I jokingly asked if he was from Canada. He made some snide "Stupid Americans" remark saying I wouldn't even know where Nova Scotia (the province he's from) was -- I proudly described it's location then informed him I cheated 'cuz my sister's husband's (ok, he wasn't husband at the time) family is from there.
The second interview was with the boss man. Again, one of those "how well do you interact" interviews. He also said his whole vision for the system they were creating.
Oh yeah, did I mention I NEVER dealt with the database software I was interviewing for? But they loved the fact I had a multi-dimensional background. Of course, I'm throwing out ideas that I pick up on things fast and am doing anything I can to get the position.
I'm asked back for a THIRD interview. This was when I interviewed back with Canadian on a more technical basis and then I got to talk with the two Financial Analysts I was going to support. Now, back to the idea I had NEVER dealt with (or even heard the word Essbase before), I'm supposed to be able to do some technical stuff with it? Ok, here goes.
Canadian is interested in my debugging skills. So he shows me some of the actual real-life calculation problems he's encountered with Hyperion's piss-poor compiler error messages as to what's wrong. I reiterated that I had never seen Essbase prior to this encounter, but was able to find all four problems in the four scripts he showed me (one he admitted it took him three hours to discover the problem and I found the missing semi-colon in thirty seconds).
I then got to sit with the Financial Analysts. Honestly, I didn't like them. They seemed snooty to me. (Later I realized how awesome and cool they were and admitted my first impression to them -- they said they get it all the time).
I then got called back for a FOURTH interview. Yes people, I said FOURTH. This is getting to be the equivalent of running 14-hour workdays in order to do the commutes and such.
The fourth interview I interviewed with the SVP of the Finance Dept (I wasn't in IT, I was in the Finance Dept as IT couldn't figure out the exact needs of the users). Dude told me it was between me and this other girl and told me I practically had the job, there was just logistics they had to go through. I'm wondering why he's telling me all this, and later hear him say he's leaving the company soon anyways, so he's wondering why he had to interview me. Gee.
I got home about noon after that interview and went to bed. For some reason I woke up about 2:30 and went downstairs (where my phone was charging) and I had a voicemail. It was the HR peeps from said company wanting to talk to me. I called them back and I got a job offer (after about a month of interviews).
Of course, when I went and told my manager at Waffle House, he BEGGED me to stay (apparently I was the ONLY one of his employees he could trust). I told him I couldn't because Waffle House didn't offer me the benefits and such that this new position. Not to mention daylight hours!
Fast forward one year. We're doing our celebrations of birthdays and anniversaries. Canadian dude proclaims the following story:
When we were looking to fill the new Hyperion position, I sent HR on a quest to find people. I got a call back from HR saying "I think we found someone for you. But I think he's on drugs!" I took a chance and still interviewed him and we've gotten an awesome resource out of him. Sometimes I still think he's on drugs, but at least I know it's his personality.The moral of the story? "When life is looking gloomy, bright things will come." Or is it "When you get a call while sleeping, don't automatically go into telemarketer mode or you'll sound like you're on drugs"?
Monday, August 10, 2009
Cameltoe
Admit it. You've all seen it. Those "fashionists" who insist on wearing on wearing women's jeans even though they're male. There's a couple guys on my floor here at The Company that do that.
I have several problems with this, though.
First of all, it looks really wrong. If you're a male and have a woman's thighs and legs, there's too much estrogen in your system.
Secondly, men's hips are positioned differently than women's, and it looks like your pants are about to fall off.
Finally, my biggest issue with it is the lack of cameltoe. You'd think if you had ANYTHING there with the crotch being that tight something would show. But, generally there's NOTHING. Where the hell does it go? I'd DIE if I had my junk tucked away that tight.
I have several problems with this, though.
First of all, it looks really wrong. If you're a male and have a woman's thighs and legs, there's too much estrogen in your system.
Secondly, men's hips are positioned differently than women's, and it looks like your pants are about to fall off.
Finally, my biggest issue with it is the lack of cameltoe. You'd think if you had ANYTHING there with the crotch being that tight something would show. But, generally there's NOTHING. Where the hell does it go? I'd DIE if I had my junk tucked away that tight.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
I dub thee "Dooky Head"
When you move into a previously-lived-in location, you're bound to get mail for strangers.
Previously, my house was owned by a church. So, I'll get lots of religious things in the mail. And occasionally a letter for a previous person saying their car loan is in default or their student loans are in default (I guess God really doesn't care about them enough to make sure their credit stays good).
Anyways, yesterday I received the strangest piece of mail:
Yes -- that's right -- it says "Dooky Head" -- and the address is mine. I'm debating calling Progressive and saying "Excuse me sir or madam, but I think you misspelled "Dookey". If I do call, I'll keep all three of my readers updated!
Previously, my house was owned by a church. So, I'll get lots of religious things in the mail. And occasionally a letter for a previous person saying their car loan is in default or their student loans are in default (I guess God really doesn't care about them enough to make sure their credit stays good).
Anyways, yesterday I received the strangest piece of mail:
Yes -- that's right -- it says "Dooky Head" -- and the address is mine. I'm debating calling Progressive and saying "Excuse me sir or madam, but I think you misspelled "Dookey". If I do call, I'll keep all three of my readers updated!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Coupon Conundrum
I'm going to prefix this blog posting with I do NOT condone the methods outlined below. I didn't quite realize what was going on with part of it.
So, as part of my home projects I needed to purchase six R-30 bulbs. A trip to WalsMart was in store.
Arrive there and my really awesome and hot boyfriend manages to find some bulbs in the clearance aisle for 3.43 each.
Next we head to the Self Checkout aisle to.. well.. check out!
As I'm scanning the bulbs, my really awesome and hot boyfriend notices there's a 75 cent off coupon. We begin peeling them off as we scan them. There's one missing. Oh well. Scan the first coupon and *bam* - 75 cents removed from the total. I put the coupon in the coupon holder as requested. Scan the second coupon and it tells us the coupon has been used the maximum times. I start reading the coupon and it doesn't say "limit one" so we ask for the CSR.
CSR comes down and scans it and it doesn't scan. But she still throws it in the coupon holder. She also states she cannot manually do them and cancels the coupon that was already used. We then decide that we'll do six different transactions as the line was empty (shocker, eh?).
So, we move lanes and we're down two coupons (and missing the one), and we decide to the coupons six times by putting the coupon label in instead of the coupon for half of them.
Six transactions of 2.89 later (3.43 minus .75 plus tax) I have six receipts and six bulbs.
I get into my truck and begin discussing how irritated the WalsMart manager will be once they go to check the drawers. One drawer will be short 2.25 (three coupons) and one will be over by 1.50 (two coupons). Then the kicker came out: I was informed the coupons had expired back a few months ago.
Apparently the way coupons work is the barcode stays the same no matter what. It is up to the cashier to verify the expiration date. It's a "known issue" when it comes to self checkout lanes. So, WalsMart is really out $4.50 from my coupon adventure. This wasn't intended, but seems a bit fair after the evil CSR person was so evil and unhelpful.
...And for those of you who call going through the line six times a retail person's nightmare -- the ONLY reason we did it that way was 'cuz nobody was in line behind us. Otherwise I woulda been a little more courteous of other shoppers. I'm not THAT evil (usually) :)
So, as part of my home projects I needed to purchase six R-30 bulbs. A trip to WalsMart was in store.
Arrive there and my really awesome and hot boyfriend manages to find some bulbs in the clearance aisle for 3.43 each.
Next we head to the Self Checkout aisle to.. well.. check out!
As I'm scanning the bulbs, my really awesome and hot boyfriend notices there's a 75 cent off coupon. We begin peeling them off as we scan them. There's one missing. Oh well. Scan the first coupon and *bam* - 75 cents removed from the total. I put the coupon in the coupon holder as requested. Scan the second coupon and it tells us the coupon has been used the maximum times. I start reading the coupon and it doesn't say "limit one" so we ask for the CSR.
CSR comes down and scans it and it doesn't scan. But she still throws it in the coupon holder. She also states she cannot manually do them and cancels the coupon that was already used. We then decide that we'll do six different transactions as the line was empty (shocker, eh?).
So, we move lanes and we're down two coupons (and missing the one), and we decide to the coupons six times by putting the coupon label in instead of the coupon for half of them.
Six transactions of 2.89 later (3.43 minus .75 plus tax) I have six receipts and six bulbs.
I get into my truck and begin discussing how irritated the WalsMart manager will be once they go to check the drawers. One drawer will be short 2.25 (three coupons) and one will be over by 1.50 (two coupons). Then the kicker came out: I was informed the coupons had expired back a few months ago.
Apparently the way coupons work is the barcode stays the same no matter what. It is up to the cashier to verify the expiration date. It's a "known issue" when it comes to self checkout lanes. So, WalsMart is really out $4.50 from my coupon adventure. This wasn't intended, but seems a bit fair after the evil CSR person was so evil and unhelpful.
...And for those of you who call going through the line six times a retail person's nightmare -- the ONLY reason we did it that way was 'cuz nobody was in line behind us. Otherwise I woulda been a little more courteous of other shoppers. I'm not THAT evil (usually) :)
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