Today's featured shit

So the mystery interview nine days ago was with YouTube, which should explain why I couldn’t talk about it here, and the results of that interview should explain why I can talk about it now.

It’s really hard to get a job at a company like that, and honestly, I’m much more upset that I went to Burrito Factory last night at 10:45 and they were closed. They used to be open till midnight, and I really felt let down by that.

Besides, $750 on two suits would have been wasted money if I were just going to work for a dot-com.

From here, there’s a decent chance at Apple for me, which is better for many reasons. And the community really needs me as a teacher. And Jamba Juice misses me. There’s still too many jobs out there for me to do.

I am the starting goalie in today’s hockey game. Wish me luck!

http://www.gamespot.com/news/6160951.html

When SimCity 5 comes out, that is when I will upgrade. Time for a $3,000 system. Yeesh. WTF is wrong with me. I better start eating the ramen now.

Maxis/EA, stop making SimCity games, please. I have more important things to do in my life. Oh man, and if it’s as buggy as the last couple have been, it’s going to be like a valedictorian heroin addict. You’ll be so happy to see her because she’s got so much potential, but you’re going to be depressed because she’s completely wasting all of her abilities.

“Yeah, my great-grandfather died in the holocaust too, he fell out of a guard tower.”

I had about 45 kids last night. Here are some things I noticed:

• Only five kids were alone, and they were all white.
• There were only seven white kids, and the two that weren’t by themselves were with their white trash dad, who was exasperated and slurring his words while telling his brethren to “say trick or treat, dammit.”
• Many kids didn’t have bags. One used a Target plastic bag. Don’t these kids have pillowcases?
• The first showed up at 5:45, and the last was there at 8:30. Forty of them were between 6:15 and 7:45.
• Filipino trick or treaters always had their parents right behind them. This perpetuates the stereotype that Filipino families do everything for their kids. This apparently includes ringing doorbells.
• The Powerpuff Girls aren’t cool anymore. I know this because of the reactions I got while giving out candy from that bowl. One girl liked it. She was one of the solo white kids.
• There was no integration in the groups. It was a Latin group, or a black group or whatever.
• This neighborhood is typically diverse as far as San Jose goes, except there were no Asians. I guess they all live in Almaden and Evergreen.
• The last group was a mom pushing a stroller with a sleeping baby in costume. You just don’t argue with parents. There’s nothing in it for me.
• Some things never change. They want to see what you’re giving them. They try to take it from your hand. I of course do not tolerate such foolishness. Into the bag or pumpkin (or Target bag) it goes.
• “Happy Halloween” is rapidly replacing “trick or treat,” and I don’t understand this. Are we afraid that having kids be exposed to tricks is going to hurt their self-esteem?
• Some of the supervising parents (stay at the curb — at least give the impression to your kids that you trust them) had the telltale iPod earbuds going on. They must be doing this everywhere with their kids, and I find it disrespectful. As if my generation ain’t fucked up enough.
• One of the kids saw the Simpsons on my TV. He asked whether he could come in and watch it. He even put his foot in the door. Maybe that is why parents trail all the way to the door. This one sure didn’t. It made me wish I was a child molester. You talk about an opportunity falling into your lap!

How many of those people are going to vote in six days? Not many. It’s easier to complain. These are the same people that watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report and do not vote. Stick it in your respective ears, waxies.

I know I’m a whiny bitch. It’s fun. Those whiny bitches that take themselves too seriously… well, I can’t be responsible for them. But at least I know how to have a good time with it.

The Pinnacle Fitness in Los Gatos has been rebranded a Bally Total Fitness. Bally bought Pinnacle years ago, but they kept Pinnacle’s name because it’s a fancy place. Well, for whatever reason, they will even let scumbag Bally members like me in.

This place is fancier than a can of Fancy Feast served with packets of fancy ketchup. (“Catsup” would be a subtle pun, but I refuse to say “catsup,” and I have to keep it real!)

Their showers have body wash, shampoo and conditioner. Their sinks have soap, shaving cream, after shave, cotton swabs, deodorant and hair spray. There are like eight racquetball courts too, although that does nothing for me.

This means I will hardly ever have to drive on Hamilton again, and I say good riddance. I hate driving Hamilton. The lights are synchronized poorly, which is worse than not being synchronized at all!

I am trying to let this new discovery cover up my disdain for all the things that have made me a whiny bitch for the past week. We’ll see.

I’ve set up an interview to teach English in Japan on the 17th (not in Japan — the interview is in San Francisco). It’s a smart move, but do I really want to give up on this new Bally Total Fitness? Oh, and I guess there are other things keeping me here too. (Notice how by not giving further examples, you will automatically assume that you’re one of them. This is an excellent marketing gimmick.)

Hockey was grand on Sunday. I broke someone’s stick, and we scored four goals, double the team record. The only problem was that we gave up a season-high-tying eight goals. Oops.

I was given a filing cabinet and some boxes at work. I put things in them. I did not address all the concerns that were handed to me, but I’ve done plenty. At this point, it’s no contest that I no longer have the messiest cube, so fuck ’em. If they ask me to do more, I am just going to say no. I figure I might as well see what happens when someone says “no.”

Speaking of needing to find another job (nice!), I am going to register to take the CBEST Friday. That is what everyone that wants to be a teacher has to take. It’s really easy. People aren’t teachers because it’s hard — people aren’t teachers because it doesn’t pay anything.

Weird how the first part of that sentence can mean opposite things. Crazy world we live in, mama.

Pretty much any music video you could ever want to see is on there, and it forces me into reminiscing mode. Am I still too young to look back?

I know the importance of reflecting and all that, but I have to wonder whether it’s the sort of thing that is supposed to wait. I suppose I could forget things between now and then, but because I will have forgotten, it won’t bother me, because I won’t remember what I’m missing.

It’s nice to watch old videos from DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince and Martika, sure, but every minute I spend looking back is a minute that prevents me from looking forward. Sure, people do that all the time, but I’ve always had my doubts of how optimal that is.

I suppose the same case could be made for the time I spend writing these things, as well. You see how I sacrifice my personal development for your entertainment? You better fucking appreciate it!

The phone rang.

I hadn’t heard anything because the matter had been escalated. And it’s all bad. Almost as bad as it could get.

What I mean by that is that I still have a job. At the same pay. Doing the same thing. Other than that, it pretty much went about as badly as it can get.

Why can I not just be left the fuck alone so I can do my job? Is that too much to ask?

I have a cluttered cube. It should surprise no one. Most of the decorations are years old. I am just not really into this sort of thing like I used to be, but if I took them down, I’d have to put them somewhere, and “away” is too abstract of a concept for me. I need to know where “away” is, and I don’t have a clue how to figure that out. So on the wall it stays.

This becomes a bigger issue when we have site cleanup days, because you’d think there’d be a lot of shit to throw away or recycle, but there really isn’t. The level of eyesore-ocity has been pretty level during the past few years, so it’s pretty much just a white trash kind of thing. Hey, if I am going to slum it anywhere, it might as well be at work, especially considering my boss is 3,500 miles away.

The facilities guy in this building is a bit of a dimbulb. He must be 20 years older than me, and he acts as if he is 20 years younger than me. He’s pretty easy to ignore, so that’s what I generally do.

Until today.

In anticipation of tomorrow’s free bagels, er, I mean site cleanup, he decided to place a recycling bin in the entry of my cube, making it impossible to “ignore.” This is one of those wheeled contraptions, maybe about four feet tall.

Hey thanks, I was wondering where to put all of my glasses and mugs and posters and food. Thanks for the paper and cardboard recycling bin. That really helps. I was lost without you, man.

This happened last week, too, because this year’s bagel cleanup day took place over two days. I will spare the whining related to that. (I had done a good job of not mentioning it at all, in fact, considering this is the first that many of you have heard of it.) I decided to do one of those HR-threatening e-mails, which I sent to the people involved, their bosses and my boss. You always copy your boss on these things, no matter what your relationship with your boss (hee), because it lends credibility and seriousness to what you have to say:

Good morning,

I found it quite disconcerting to find, for the second time in two weeks, an unannounced four-foot-tall recycling bin blocking the entrance to my cube this morning. I am fully aware of the site clean-up program (which incidentally is tomorrow, not today) and do not understand what this bin has to do with that. There is little in my cube that belongs in a recycling bin labeled to recycle paper and cardboard.

For the second time in two weeks, I have been singled out in a fashion that disrupts my ability to work. I was assured that this would not happen again, but this apparently is not true. I find this unprofessional and request that you refrain from doing this again. I do not wish to get HR involved because of the potential of a hostile work environment. I’d like to consider this matter closed at this time. Thank you for your understanding.

-Joel

Damn right. I have no idea what will come of this. Hopefully nothing, but stay tuned.