Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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dressing the part

I make more money than you.
Monday morning, 7:30am. Guess I drank enough water last night to offset the 12-year scotch that coursed through my system as I finished up and published Monday’s entry, ’cause I feel fresh as a daisy. I’m not a fan of liquor by any stretch, and a “scotch on the rocks” is probably the last drink I’d order by choice. Changing subjects, in her haste to leave this morning, Sharaun grabbed my keys on her way out the door – her own keys being in her purse, which she also took. This leaves me keyless. No way to start my car to get to work, no way to get back in the house once I’ve locked the door behind me. Luckily, there are enough folks who work with me that live near here that it’s not hard to score a ride in. It’s kinda nice, sitting here in the air conditioning, listening to some vintage Cure… almost makes me wish I was friendless and had no one to call to get into work.

Lemme hit you with a quandary I’ve been thinkin’ on the past couple weeks. I’ve been thinking lately about “dressing the part” at work. What I mean is, changing the way I dress to be more in-line with my newly bestowed responsibilities. Using my acute sense of perception, I’ve noticed that most “bigwigs” at work wear decent looking slacks and shirts most of the time. So, while I hate “dressing up,” I’ve been considering changing my daily uniform to something more becoming a “manager,” junior or not. I’m not talking long-sleeves and ties or anything, just something a tad “dressier.” I’m even willing to make the long-pants-in-summer sacrifice for this, that’s how much I’ve debated it. Problem is, I’m torn about actually doing it… being able to see it from two totally different angles…

Part of me thinks this is very logical, something that I should definitely do. I think of a new-hire, fresh out of college, and their 1st impression of me should I be appointed their manager. Here’s a junior manager, wearing shorts, sneakers, and a t-shirt. Is he going to respect me more or less than a junior manager who’s sharply dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt? As judging-a-book-by-its-cover as it sounds, I think the clothes do manage to communicate some sense of professionalism – lending some “cred” to the manager title. Not saying you can’t be #1 stellar manager in shorts and a ballcap, but I also think that dressing the part may help me actually act the part. Odd as that sounds, when I’m dressed up I feel more important and actually act a little more professional. After all, the saying “The clothes make the man” must exists for a reason.

While part of me does see logic in it, another part of me sees the idea as horribly pretentious. Young snot makes good and all the sudden starts dressing like he’s hot shit. I don’t want that at all. Heck, there are people twice my age who’ve worked here three times as long as I have – and here I go getting some minuscule promotion and start dressing like CEO or something. There’s got to be a happy medium between the two extremes. I’ve considered “breaking in” the new look: starting with one day a week, maybe bumping that to two or three after people warm up to the new duds. I’ve set myself up really, since going from my daily vestments of today to Dockers and buttons each day would be a pretty evident change. What a silly thing to worry about, right? You’d think, but it’s been on my mind of late.

I love the new look of audioscrobbler, or last fm or whatever it’s called now. It’s actually a really cool site. My profile’s been linked in my sidebar for a while now, and I’ve been aggregating stats on my listening habits for a little over two months now. I hope the service stays free; it’d be interesting to go back over a year and see if my listening habits line up with what I say the choice albums were for that year. Right now the “overall” charts look pretty accurate for what I’ve been digging the past couple months. We’ll see.

Goodnight.

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killing spree

Moving and and getting comfy before certain death.
Wednesday night already, week’s going fast. Gonna be a short entry tonight, not much to write about and not much time left to write it. Fell asleep on the couch right after dinner, 8pm-ish, and didn’t wake up until around 11pm. Did the dishes, took the trash to the curb, and logged on to do one late-night work e-mail check and finish up the blog.

I’ve got another trip to Taiwan coming up in early September, and I’m super-bummed because I can’t stay at the Sherwood. For those who’ve never read my Taiwan posts before, the Sherwood is a posh hotel that’s practically across the street from where I work in Taipei – and it’s my favorite hotel ever. Turns out there are several conferences in town the week I’m there, and the hotel isn’t offering their “extra low” company price that week. Since their regular rate is more than twice the discount rate – I just conscience spending that much more when there are cheaper hotels in town. You don’t understand how much this disappoints me, half the reason I look forward to going to Taiwan is staying at the Sherwood. I love the hotel, and I love the hotel bar – where I’m good friends with the staff. I have friends there, I’m comfortable there, and it’s familiar. I don’t want to stay at some other hotel. I even went so far as to have a buddy try and work a deal with the front desk to get me the cheap rate hookup. While he was able to score the company rate for a few of the nights, the hotel wouldn’t give me the whole stay – so it looks like I’ll be staying across town. Great. Now I’ve got to pay for a cab to and from the Sherwood bar to the hotel where I’m staying each night.

The other day I popped my head out the garage sidedoor to throw a bag of trash into the dumpster. For some reason, I stepped outside to survey my bleak and barren backyard landscape. Looking closer at my fence, I noticed a large colony of wasps had setup shop under one of the cross members in the fence. Moving in for a better look, I noticed two smaller hives in the same section of fence. Immediately, I was excited. I love spraying wasps with that long-range wasp spray. For them, a poisony death from the sky; for me, a chance to play God, annihilating an entire city – wasp-Sodom. Standing back a good 10ft, I hit them with the foamy asphyxiator and listened for the “plop” of their flightless bodies hitting the ground as they dropped dead. Wasps that were away begin returning, only to find their under-construction neighborhood is now a dripping mass of death, and fly around in confusion.

Guess I’m going to bed now. Two paragraphs is better than none I suppose. Goodnight.

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speaking of “watery”

Scooping.
Oh man… Peter Jennings died. What a bummer. My folks were ABC News folks, and I grew up listening to Jennings do the evening news every night. When my turn for adulthood came, I, too, chose ABC News for my occasional didn’t-get-to-check-the-internet-much TV news outlet – and Jennings was still there. I watched the first tower fall live in the top “window” of a Woodstock-style two window layout, the bottom one containing Mr. Jennings. Not like he was family or anything, but something about people who report the news gives me respect for them… like they are so much more “tied in” then us John Q. Publics. Now he’s just another old-timer reference that Lil’ Chino won’t understand, like Cronkite to my generation.

I don’t know what’s up with this new Death Cab album yet, I can’t seem to peg it. For some reason, I can only get about halfway through before I want to switch to something more uppy like the World Leader Pretend or HARD-Fi albums Ben recently turned me onto. Death Cab have always been good for some melancholic languid indie pop, but this album sounds particularly watery-weak to me after the first few listens. Maybe I’ll get over it, it’s not fair really since I’ve not yet once sat down and listened to it once front-to-back. I wonder if any Mr. Gibbard’s radio-success with Postal Service will spill over into this new album? I’m sure that, since they’re now under the major label umbrella, they’ll release a single proper, and perhaps even have some help payola’ing it into rotation. My thoughts are that, from these first impressions, they’d’ve done better commercially riding the last album rather than this one. But what do I know.

11:11pm and I’m working. Trying to get back into the “swing” I was in before strep took me out of the game. Sure, I’m still busy; and sure, I have crap due tomorrow that I’ll be working on tomorrow… who cares. The whole being sick thing kinda forced me to see that the company lives on with or without me, and I’m not nearly as critical as my swollen head may lead me to believe. That’s good, really, because it gives me some leave to slack a bit – and when I say “slack” I mean not work until midnight.

Wow, what a crap entry. Goodnight.

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call divorce court

Die you microscopic bastards, die.
I’ve had it. Call Divorce Court; I’m not happy in this relationship anymore and I’m gettin’ out. This fever moved in without so much as a word, and took up residence acting like she owns the place. She doesn’t care about me or what I want, and I have a feeling she’s just using me as a warm body. So I’m filin’ papers, I’m done… I’m walking out on this one-sided relationship. It’s 2:30 and I’ve taken 3 doses of the antibiotic that was supposed to “make me feel a world better after just on dose,” and I’m still at 103 laid flat in front of the TV. Fast-forward a few hours and I’ve broken that last one, but still feel craptacular enough that I’m just a couple hours of feeling this way away from surrendering tomorrow’s workday. Tomorrow is Sharaun’s ultrasound and heartbeat appointment. I had planned to take an hour off in the afternoon anyway to attend, and regardless of how I feel I’m still going. Four days. That would make me out of work for four days. If it wasn’t me, if I was on the inside and someone else was out this long, I’d think they were either milking it or must have malaria or something. Four days is a long time to be out of work, especially considering I used up a Sunday “for free” as well.

Wrote that paragraph last night… but my my fever climbed to it’s second highest later on and I never got around to posting it. Thursday morning now and I’ve cautiously upgraded my condition to “feeling better.” No fever yet this morning, and I seem to have my strength back. I even went so far as to make some phone calls to key work folks, y’know – grease the skids before what I see as my imminent return for a hard Friday’s work. Later, I plan to sit down and tackle the e-mail that’s been piling up, see what emergencies I’ve missed and whether or not I should care about them. Being sick sucks, I hope the gods of sick recognize this as my “jury duty” for at least a couple years… the way I look at it, I’m paid up at least through 2007. I mean, half of the torture of being stuck in bed not being able to do anything is the list of things you’re not doing continually running through your head: the crabgrass you had big plans to hit with a second dose of poison and really finish off, finish painting the living room, work, etc. Stupid strep throat.

I’m outta here, don’t care if it sucks.

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yet they still call

Flarin' up real good there.
Tuesday morning, and I have enough of a respite from my fever/flu/whatever that I feel like writing. Last night was different, and found me covered in sweat the entire night long – rather than the one or two sweating-out sessions of the previous nights. It was uncomfortable, but I sure felt better this morning. Better still isn’t quite “good” yet, but it’s getting closer. Today my fever is hanging around 100-101, a few degrees cooler than Sunday and Monday – but still high enough to make me feel crappy. My throat isn’t doing too hot either. Hurts to swallow. Taking my mom’s advice, I made an appointment to see the doctor for this afternoon, just to see if they can possibly pinpoint my problem – and maybe even tie it to my mysterious ER visit last week. I dunno, I’m never sick… is this what getting old is like? My body has betrayed me.

I think I worry too much about missing work. Even feeling like crap, I surreptitiously log on a couple times a day and check my e-mail. I have a great fear of falling behind, but honestly, I also have a great love for “dropping out.” Things as they are right now at work, I wouldn’t think of pulling the old “mental health day” thing and taking a couple unwarranted days off – but I have no problem using deserved, malady-driven, sick days. Oh sure, calls still come in on my cellphone… and I hit the “silence” button and think of how I’ll claim I was probably sleeping at the time. I have been asleep a lot, after all. I’m not delusional, it’s not like I think that work will crumble without me. It’s just hard, especially in extremely busy times, to accept that the world will continue to turn should you step away from the small post that you man – but, it most certainly will. Having said that, I guess it’s obvious that it’s more of an ego thing than a genuine concern for the job. Peoples, humans that is, are funny like that – so accomplishment driven and high on themselves.

Sharaun and I have been talking about the things we’ll need to do before Lil’ Chino gets here, and one idea she came up with was to have a garage sale to try and move some of our built-up junk (potentially, for a profit). I thought it was a great idea. There is so much junk I could stand to get rid of (no, I’ll cling to my Garbage Pail Kids collection with my last dying grasp), and Sharaun’s got plenty of clutter too. Actually, it was the idea of a garage sale that got me excited – I’ve only “participated” in one once before, at least that I can remember. I’ll never forget making the decision that the potentially realizable $10 I could get from selling my entire He-Man and Star Wars action figure collections was more appealing than holding onto them for posterity (pure idiocy). There’s something very American about having a garage sale, very appealing.

Late-breaking update: Went to the doctor today, turns out I have strep throat. Means another sick day tomorrow, since I’ll be contagious for at least another 24hrs. That, and I still feel like crap. Woohoo – another day of fevers and sore throats and daytime TV.

Goodnight.

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sick leave

Over and over and over again.
Took the day off from work today (Monday as I write). An endless cycle of fever plateaus and sweaty fever breakings, topping out at 104.2 last night. Maybe it’s just me, but it always seems that when I have a high fever – my skin, especially on my scalp, becomes extremely sensitive – sore to the touch even. Anyway, today’s plan was to see the doctor… but I was so tired and drained that I just ended up sleeping and sweating. And now it’s nearly 8pm, and I’m feeling pretty decent having just come off my last high of 102 – but I’ve pretty much already decided that I’ll be staying home tomorrow as well, to really see the doctor this time and give myself one more day to recoup. I’ve got several important meetings that I’ll likely miss… which does make me feel bad… but I almost feel like I deserve it – I’m hardly ever sick to the point where I miss work. So, pay-up work, I’m calling in my unused sick time right now… cough, cough.

One thing about spending an entire 48hr period in alternating asleep and awake states, it gives you a lot of time to think. TV gets old fast, and the headaches that accompanied my fevers the past couple days pretty much ruled out reading, so sometimes I’ll just lie in bed daydreaming, waiting to drift off to sleep. I like “leading” my daydreams, I used to do it sitting at my desk in high school – I’d imagine vivid scenarios (yes, usually sexual, and yes, usually involving the class being “locked in” due to hurricane – my fantasy high school chicks always got so loose when they thought they were about to die). So I did a lot of daydream-seeding today, about all sorts of things. For some reason, my drifting-to-sleep fantasies are often tied to the position I’m sleeping in when they start. What I mean is, if I start laying out some storyline as I’m falling off, and then I change the way I’m lying – I won’t be able to get the fantasy “back” until I’ve re-situated myself. Weird, huh? At least I know it’s not just me, Sharaun was reading my draft of this post and totally agrees.

Again, being couch-ridden for two days does wonders for TiVo housecleaning. Lying there today, flipping around trying to find something to watch in my boredom… I decided that I don’t have enough interesting and/or varied programs set as Season Passes. Now, you know, I hate to talk TV like it’s all-important to me, but over these past couple days… it really has been. I mean, when I wasn’t asleep, the TV was on and I was watching something. So, I set about trying to find some new programs to add to our auto-record stuff. I’m pretty pleased with the results. First off, Gilligan’s Island, the original. I’ve always loved that show. Next, Timmy & Lassie, again, the original. Holy crap that show sucks. I remember it from when I was kid and Nickelodeon was brand new, and, only having only a few items of original programming, would play a whole bunch of strange Canadian stuff and 50s and 60s programming to fill up the time. Watching it now, it’s clear to me that each episode was just a form of mind-control for kids: don’t play by abandoned mines, don’t get too close to road construction, etc. Next, History Detectives on PBS – a show I’ve always loved. SportsCenter may seem out of place, being that I’m not much of a jock. But, I have some really fond memories of tuning in each night to watch it with my roommate in college – and I figure it’ll buy me man-points if I can at least converse intelligently about Palmeiro’s ‘roid problem. Next, Benny Hill – for a dose of that wacky British humor I’m a fan of. A put a few more on there too, the Honeymooners, PBS’s Nature, etc. Seemed like a good idea being home all day, but I’m sure I’ll be deleting most of it once I’m back to work.

Goodnight.

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wheelchair love is cool and all

Summer summer summer, turns me upside-down.
Today I’ve got a lot of images, some of them big. At first, I considered shrinking them so that those of you with smaller screen resolutions wouldn’t have the site layout being all messed up – but I decided at the last minute that I didn’t really care. So, hope you enjoy this Monday’s entry.

What LP sets my heart a’ pitter-patter these days and nights of summer? This week, it’s a little gem called Underwater Cinematographer by yet another Canuck collective – The Most Serene Republic. Lead croon has a very Gibbard-esque voice, and you can even sometimes hear strains of Gibbard’s work here (Death Cab, Postal Service, etc.). But I don’t want to pigeonhole the band… as they definitely have a varied sound… and really kickass drumming at times. Plus, they scream courses… which for some reason, I love. You give me a studio full of people standing 10ft away from the mics screaming a ragged course at the top of their lungs, and I’m going to buy your album. These guys did it twice, and in a less-freaky way than the Polyphonic Spree’s saccharine-cult mantra version (which I also totally dig). Survey the scene for yourself here, headphones required.

This weekend Saturday was bliss. I swam all day in the pool at Pat’s house, ate some grilled hamburgers, and then ended the night by watching the hotly anticipated remake of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? Yeah, it totally does… I wish that’s how it actually went down. Here’s the real story:

This weekend Saturday was bliss. With weather.com reporting the high that day at 108° F, Pat had called and asked if Sharaun and I wanted to come over to his place for some swimmin’ and grillin’. Sounded like perfect summer fun to me, and it would actually be the first time I’d be able to confidently go swimming without fear of death. I headed over, wifeless, due to headache, around 2pm. Shortly thereafter, we were in the water. Together, we balled our fists and shook them at the summer swelter, symbolically, of course, by drinking cold beer and lounging in the tepid pool. Hour by hour we defied the shimmer of heat on the horizon, beer cans amassing at the pool’s edge at an alarming pace. Before I knew it, 6pm had arrived and more folks had shown up for the cookout. Oh, and I had made an even trade: swimming in the pool for swimming in a drunken haze. Stumbling inside, I managed a burger and a half before laying down on the floor for some rest. Waking up, I wasn’t in any shape for a trip to the theater… so Sharaun took me home where I crashed on the couch alone. I missed the movie, which really bummed me out. I woulda done better for my day by drinking a little less and making the movie… but I guess it all worked out OK. I still had a nice summer day, and my liver got a workout.

You guys wanna hear some crap? Sharaun got her degree right, her Masters in Education. Spent extra time and extra money at school to get that graduate degree. Right now, we’re still paying that thing off – as graduate tuition is like 3x normal in-state tuition. Anyway, she got this degree while we were back in Florida, and would we have stayed in Florida – she could’ve immediately started working at any public school with a Florida teaching credential. We, however, did not stay in Florida; we came to sunny California – for my job. Upon arriving, she learned that her two Florida-earned degrees didn’t hold much water here on the West coast. In order to begin teaching, she’d 1st need to apply for an emergency credential (good for three years) and then take some test. She passed the test, a yawner that most high-school grads would do fine with, and scored her emergency teaching credential. And, for the next two years she applied and interviewed at every school district around. Despite the news’ constant blathering about California’s “teacher shortage crisis,” she wasn’t able to land a job to save her life. Finally, a long-term substitute position was her foot in the door and she scored a full-time position. And, for the past three years she’s been teaching on that emergency credential.

Now we’re caught up to the present, and her emergency credential is expiring. Thing is, the process by which out-of-state degree holders earn “real” credentials is insane. There are a couple options, all of which will cost us considerable amounts of money and her considerable amounts of time and stress. The constant between the options is this test she has to take, the CSET. Far from the high-school yawner described above, this is a comprehensive test which covers a variety of topics – and is not easy in the least. Y’know, I can talk about it all I want and you probably won’t get the proper appreciation for the level of absurdity I’m trying to convey. So, here, painstakingly excerpted from the practice tests online, are some of my favorite questions that California kindergarten teachers are required to answer to obtain their credentials:


I feel like I should know this – but I don’t. I think I could make an educated run at it, but I don’t know it for sure. Oh, I have a bright yellow notebook at home that contains all my notes from 9th grade World History with Mr. Hines – it’s likely in there… but it didn’t make it from there to in my head with any sense of permanence. Here’s another:


Double-header here, fit better with the layout. Re: 43, the Radical what now? I swear I never even learned this. I couldn’t even come up with a good educated guess on this one… does that make me stupid? That second one has got to be a trick right. Even if I had ever heard of this thing, all these would sound right to me on test day. You know, you don’t learn California history if you don’t go to primary school in California… Let’s see what else we got here:

Using my knowledge of geology?! What the… oh yeah, because I would have, of course, studied geology extensively in my pursuit of a degree in teaching elementary school. And here we go:

OK, now, for real. Shut up. Just shut the hell up. These things are making me more and more angry as I go along. Soon enough I’m about to jump out of my CSET desk and jam my two #2 pencils in the proctor’s eyes. This test is so stupid. And now… I’ve saved the best for last… my personal favorite:

Oh. My. Word. What the crap? What class, exactly, would’ve prepped me for this question? Music theory? Every person aspiring to be a teacher in California must be able to read music and identify melody, rhythm, and form. Stupid-ridiculous.

Were she the graduate of a California college, with or without a masters degree, none of this would be required – none. But because her degree is from out of state, she has to jump through innumerable hoops before she’s declared “fit” to teach the budding young’ns of Northern California. I’m all for holding teachers to high standards, but this crap is pretty ridiculous to me. Sure it’d be great if all our teachers, K-12, knew how to prove the Pythagorean Theorem – but I’m pretty sure you can handle 3rd graders just fine without the knowledge. Whew! Now that I’m done venting…

That’s it. Nothing more. Until tomorrow, goodnight.