Last American Idol.

I am not watching AI anymore, I am sorry. But they just put Ruben & Trenyce up for elimination.

What the hell is wrong with American voters? Do they really think that just because that little marine Joshua wins this thing that he has a hope in hell of selling any records?

I am all for patriotism but come on people, he really doesn't have enough talent to pull off a singing career. This is supposed to be a talent show, and the most talented person should win. So now, thanks to some idiot americans with nothing better to do than call the stupid vote line a hundred times a minute, Trenyce, who has more talent in her little finger than Jashua has in his entire body, is out.

The good news is that I doubt that Trenyce will fall by the wayside, she is just too talented. But come on America, this is a talent show, not prom king.

Lovin' every minute at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�.

I am pretty sure I am starting to piss people off and they may corner me out in the parking lot and kick the crap out of me. Either that or they will soon instigate a random drug testing program at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�.

I absolutely love my job. And I tell people all the time.

THEM: �So, how�s it going so far?�

ME: �I love it, I am havin� a ball!�

THEM: �Oh, just wait till you get some guy that is screamin in your ear and calling you a bitch.�

ME: �Oh, I like them the best. The dirtier they get the sweeter I am. And if they get really dirty, I just hook them��..you know�..by accident.� {evil grin}

People give me that �are you fucking on something� look, and I just laugh my fool head off.

I guess they just have to realize where I am coming from. My last job was a nightmare every single day. I dreaded going to work. But now I am around friendly people, the pay is good and a monkey could do my job so it isn�t all that taxing. I have full (free) benefits, 10 days vacation a year and a pension plan.

I really can�t complain. And I don�t.

Tomorrow (well it�s today now) is my day off, and I will spend it at the mechanics trying to get my car fixed. Now THAT pisses me off. But that�s another story.

That Fuckin' DickHead, Sir Sandford Fleming.

We complained to the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� (Yanks)(American) that if we are supposed to be paid on the 24th that one second after midnight our pay should be in the bank. His reply:

"It's your own (Canadian) fault for inventing fucking time zones in the first place. The big boss of Undisclosed Customer Service Center� lives in California, deal with it."

Ain't that just like a Canadian, never thinking things through.

You can all rest easy.

I am happy to report that I finished my first shift at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� and no one lost a limb, nothing blew up and the company shares are still worth the paper they are printed on.

Yeah me!

Make way for the envoy!

They are actually setting us loose on the place tonight, with no backup. This is the first day of my 5-1 shift.

I will try not to bring the company down from the inside.

HAPPY EASTER!

This was just too halarious not to post.

I recieved this in an email today.

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet
syndrome including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the
story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what
happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was
"something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner
in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me.
"I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?"
I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed
him into his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying
on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
"Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having
babies."
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"
I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we
said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage,?"
she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in
my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know,"
she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya think?) By now the
rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced.
"We're about to witness the miracle of birth."
"OH, Gross!", they shrieked. "Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what
are we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?"
my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty
here, too don't you?) We peered at the patient. After much
struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly,
vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making
much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when
it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I
tried several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe
they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here
with the females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet
with my son holding the cage in his lap. Breathe, Ernie,
breathe," he urged. "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his
mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young.
I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her
womb, for God's sake.)
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the
little animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you think,
Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically. "Oh, very
interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak
to you privately for a moment?" I gulped, nodding for my son to
step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not inlabor.
In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy."
"What!?"
"You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come
into maturity, like most male species, they um.... er....
masturbate.
Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at
my wife.
"Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr.. Cameron." We were silent,
absorbing this. "So Ernie's just...just...Excited?", my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More
silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle.
And then even laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded,
knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit
the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now
running down her face. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you
pulling on its... its...teeny little..." she gasped for more air
to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned.
We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters
and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going
to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

2 - Hamsters - 10 bucks...
1 - Cage - 20 bucks Trip to the Vet ...30 bucks... Pictures of
your hubby pulling on the hamster's wacker........Priceless!

I almost choked to death, I laughed so hard.

And another thing.....those are my real nails.

Welcome to Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. What the fuck do you want? How may I help you today?

Ok, yesterday I was a little freaked out. We sat with a coach and �role played� and were marked for it. Luckily I remembered that I could put her on hold if I didn�t know what to do and actually ask her. I put her on hold 3 times in one call.

After lunch the instructor sent the ones who �got� it, out on the floor. We were supposed to work the tools while the CSR did the talking. I was doing ok, she at one point was pointing frantically at the computer screen, but nothing blew up or anything.

Then the instructor, we will call him Don, (since he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt on this particular day) does the little �thumb and pinkie� motion and mouths �Did you take a call yet?�.

�WHAT!�

The CSR informs me that I have to actually talk to a customer before I leave for the day. At this point my head starts pounding. You know the feeling that your blood is trying to escape your body from any orifice it can find and apparently that would be the roots of your hair.

I get through it without totally screwing it up. Then the phone rings again.

�That was great, do one more.�

SHIT!!

Well she says that 4 more times. Finally, its time to clock out.

�You did great�. (I am still unconvinced)

I think a couple of them caught on that maybe this was my first time on the phones but thankfully they were nice about it. One man, with a deep southern accent, was giving me his information and after I apologised three times for asking him to repeat something he said, �Dant worray dawlin, yer doin faan�.

I left there with a pounding headache and a hemeroid.

I suppose I should file that last bit under �too much information�, oh well.

We get the weekend off, and one more day (Monday) of training and then they set us loose on the place.

I guess I just have to remember that the people calling up are more confused than I am and they probably aren�t calling up to confirm launch codes or anything like that. So if they get redirected to the wrong place it will not result in nuclear meltdown.

The fate of the free world is not in my hands. (Thank fuck for that, eh!) Just relax, breathe and give it my best shot.

"Thank you for calling Undisclosed Customer Service Center�, you have a good day."

On the payroll at Undisclosed Customer Service Center�

We got our schedules today. I will be working 5pm to 1am with Wednesdays and Saturdays off. All the people in our class are on the same schedules with different days off. Some of them were not happy with the ones they got, but I am fine with mine, considering we will have all of our days free if we need to get to the bank or whatnot.

Today was a nightmare, we had to �role play�. I am really great with the tools, but I absolutely suck out loud when it comes to knowing what to say and when to say it. Our instructor tells me I am doing fine, and it will all come together when I am out on the floor doing actual calls. I am not convinced.

Before the whole �role play� fiasco, we did call shadowing. Where we sit with a CSR and basically watch and listen. And if we were feeling lucky, we could use the tools while she spoke to the customer. The one I was assigned to was a complete moron. She didn�t use the tools in the way we were taught, so I was completely lost watching her.

When she didn�t know what to do (or couldn�t be bothered) she would just (in her words) make shit up. It was a complete waste of my time, she was no help whatsoever. She spent most of her time instant messaging her friends and checking her email.

Then she turns to me and says, �Do you want to do this (indicating the computer) while I talk?�

�Do what? I have no fucking idea what the hell you are doing.�

She laughs and says �Oh, I don�t do it the right way, but it mostly gets done.�

I am sure the people who call in appreciate her complete lack of competence , when they have to call back because she has directed them to the wrong techie in Butt Fuck Nowhere.

Quick or Thick?

I am sitting in my training session today, buzzing through the exercises in record time. I sit, bored, waiting for the rest of the class to catch up so we can go over the answers.

Then I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Am I done because I know this shit, or am I missing something? Could it be this easy? There are so many who are having real trouble with this stuff, maybe I am doing it so fast because I am doing it wrong.

I think I will go with the delusion that I am just a naturally gifted CSR.

SHMILY!

Inspired by a post read on aka laurie.

My son and I have a bit of a tradition going. Every so often I will write SHMILY! on something in his room, schoolbag, the fridge etc. It may take him up to a week to �stumble� across it but when he does he has to come and give me a kiss.

Then it is his turn to write it on something. One time I lifted the receiver of the phone and saw SHMILY! written on the part that goes up to your ear. The goofier the place, the better.

We have been doing it for years now and it always makes me feel better when I am feeling down.

Oh, by the way SHMILY! means,
See
How
Much
I
Love
You!

A joke we used to tell when we were kids.

Q. If you are going up the river backwards in a canoe and your wheels fall off, how many pancakes does it take to build an dog house?

Click and drag your mouse to reveal the answer below.

-->A. Frogs don't wear rubber boots.

If you say it right it will make you laugh so hard that snot will come out of your eyeballs. Ok, maybe that was just me.

Awe and Amaze.

All new Scratch & Sniff technology for the internet.

I guess the singing helped.

Tales from the Gulag

My new job comes with a slight headache. You have a key card you have to swipe to get in and out. (I am not even going to tell you how bad the picture is on this thing�..I wear it backwards...nuf said)

Yesterday I was trapped inside for 10 minutes while trying to swipe out at the revolving door entrance. I would swipe the card, enter the chamber and try and push the door open. When it wouldn�t budge I would step out of the chamber and swipe again. After doing this a half a dozen times (finally) someone behind me informed me that the door was automatic, that if I just remained in the chamber (for like 4 beats) the door would move automatically.

WTF? Don�t you think that would be something that they would let you know before they set you loose on the place. I guess they assume that would be something everyone would know. I worked in a basement of a guys house for 7 years and couldn�t work the thermostat. I need instruction!

Happy Birthday!

My brother is 45! Everybody sing!

We have reached the half way mark.

Well it�s half way through my training and it seems to be going well. We were tested today and I got a 97, so I guess I am at least retaining some of the masses of information they are feeding us. After the test we sat with an employee and basically watched them work all afternoon, which was interesting.

After three months off work the only thing that is a bit much to get used to is the early mornings. The good news is that once I am through with the training, I will be on 5pm to 1am shift and that shouldn�t fuck up my sleep patterns.

Also we have to decide what vacation time we want (we have 8 days we have to take between June and the end of the year) we submit our request and wait for approval. I told them that since I have been off since January, I really don�t care what days I get, so they will probably just give me whatever is left. Which is ok with me, a few days of here and there will suit me fine. Besides the request process is a bit confusing and could take numerous attempts to finalize your vacation time. After listening to him describe the process I just got a brain cramp. I will worry more about it for next year.

Tomorrow we start the second half of the training, which is (I believe) hands on with the computers. Should be interesting. Wish me luck.

Holy Mackerel!

Check this out. Wouldn't you love to work at a place like this? We were shown a video today. It was called FISH! This is the work ethic we should try to emulate.

Live Camera at Pike Place Market
(This is Seattle, Washington so depending on what time zone you are in you might just see an empty stall. But take the time to check back during business hours. This is a hoot!)

After the video, we joked, "Do we have to throw a fish everytime the phone rings or can we just answer it?"

I hope this is really what the atmosphere will be like and they are not just fuckin' with our heads.

The wonderful world of acronyms.

With the first day of training under my belt I have come to the realization that I will never speak in complete sentences again. Everything has an acronym and everyone speaks in them. It�s like listening to people speak another language. The down side is that when they talk that way it always seems like it is an inside joke and that the joke is on you. Now if I can just keep from fucking up my time keeping, I will be fine.

For some reason this disappeared, have to republish.
APRIL 1, 2003

YES, YES, YES!!!


I am now gainfully employed! The woman just called and offered me a position.


And now we are so happy, we do the dance of joy!








A special thanks to:

Kimmy - Feeder of the Unemployed
Anne - Career Councillor Extraordinaire
Tracey - Exceptional Reference Giver
Bernadette - Woman�s Center Goddess
Mom - For picking up the slack
Adele - Sister and Warrior Princess (she kept the repo man away from my car)

WTF?

For some reason my fucking blog won't load.

I am seriously PO'ed!

That extra mile.

The BigBrother phoned last night from Bermuda. I thought that was so sweet. You see, ever since he became the BigBrother he would call my son on Friday nights to make plans for Saturday. We never expected for him to call while he was away getting hitched, but he did.

I hope his new wife realizes just how lucky she is.

Yet another traumatic experience.

Night before last, my f-ing front tooth took that opportunity to disintegrate. So there I am, 6pm with no front tooth, and less than a week (that�s two dentist days) before I start a brand new job. Just Gods way of saying, �Hey, asshole, don�t get too happy.� It is one of the reasons I am terrified of winning the lottery. I am convinced the second they pass me that giant check I will be struck by lightning.

But I digress. I call and leave a message for my dentist.

HELP--STOP--FRONT TOOTH--STOP--MIA--STOP--NEW JOB MONDAY--STOP

Well, that�s $150 for an emergency visit right off the fucking bat. But what can you do? I can�t show up at a new job looking like something off The Trailer Park Boys. So, now there is nothing left to do but wait and pray that he can take me.

He calls me back the next morning, he can take me at 4pm. Great! I pop an Atavan around 3. The last time I was at the dentist he gave me the rescription and told me not to come back unless I took them. (I am a bit of a coward huge baby when it comes to the dentist) I arrive at the dentist�s office pleasantly medicated and $300 later I have a perfect smile. (ok, so it is tobacco stained, but it�s not gapped toothed)

I just hope that God lets me work long enough to pay off some bills before he torches the place.


UPDATE: But things are looking up.

After my traumatic dental experience, the boy and I went to Fibber's for supper.




The boy had deep fried ice cream for desert.




And I had this, strawberry cheesecake. MMMMMMM!

Memories.

I had company last night, Mary and Doug. They visit me once a year and it always brings back great memories.

Back before my son was born we lived in Aspen (not Colorado), a very small rural community. Lots of lakes and cottages. Doug had a �camp� on the lake (men call them camps) behind our house. In a community like Aspen, everyone �visits�, that�s what you do because there is nothing much else going on. Unless of course someone is getting married and they open up the rifle range for the reception.

Anyway, we spent a lot of time at the camp. Sitting around the campfire while Ivan, my son�s godfather, played the spoons and sang. Or sitting around the woodstove drinking and telling stories while the boys cooked deer steak and boiled corn. Even when I was pregnant, I would haul my humongous ass down the dirt road to the camp and swim in the lake.

That camp was the reason I was pregnant in the first place. Once when we were sitting on the bank of the lake, throwing rocks into the lake for the dog ,Cooter, to retrieve (that dog would retrieve anything, from sun up to sun down) a boat pulled up. It was an older man from across the lake. He had his grandson with him who was about 5 years old. He was all decked our for fishing, little hip waders, fishing vest and even a hat with fish hooks on it. He was the most adorable thing you have ever seen. Later that evening around the campfire my �ex� and his brother-in-law were 10 sheets to the wind,

The ex, in tears - �I wish I had a little fella to take fishin.�

He went on and on about what he would do with a �little fella� of his own. Ball games, fishing, and camping. Well I held him off for a while, made him jump through a few hoops (�not till we have a house� that sort of thing) thinking he would give up on the idea. I wasn�t all that anxious to give up my partying days quite yet. During this time my friend had been trying to get pregnant for 2 years, so, with that thought running through my head, I agreed. After all, it wouldn�t happen right away, right? It was taking my friend all this time to conceive, and maybe if we were trying, it would get the ex off my back. Perhaps he would get it out of his system.

Well I guess you see where this is going. From the minute we stopped using protection it took about a week for me to get pregnant. I had my son, and 8 months after that (long, long story short) I left the ex and never looked back. It has been just my son and I for the last 12 years. And the only good thing about the ex, is that he talked me into having him. I couldn�t imagine life without my son now. We have a ball together.

You want to take a guess on how many times my ex has taken his son fishing? Exactly once. He has never taken him to a ball game, and has only ever shown up for my sons ball game twice. (and incidentally he never got out of the car) My son has been in hockey for two years, the first year his father (and I use the term loosely) showed up for one game and one practice. This year, not one game. His girlfiend, however, has been to quite a few.(go figure)

Again, I say, thank God for the BigBrother, he really picked up the slack. I can�t imagine a �father� doing more. He shows up for the ball games, hockey games and takes him to practice. He takes him to the movies, fishing, camping and just hangs out with him on the weekends.

My son still gets very upset with his father, I know it hurts him that he never shows up for anything but I know that the BigBrother makes up for a lot of that. Maybe someday (no doubt when its too late) his father will realize just how much he missed. I try to tell him how exciting it is to see his son hit a home run or score a goal on a break-a-way, but he just doesn�t get it. Oh well, it�s his loss is absolutely our gain.

Sometimes, it's just cool to hear the word.

Last night on Judging Amy, Donna was interviewing people for her blog. How cool is that?

Perhaps someday, in the not so distant future, we will actually be able to say the word �blog� without people giving that weird "are-you-speaking-Klingon" look.

Apparently I am awesome.(who knew?)

Got a call from one of the people I used as a reference for the new job. She wanted me to know how it went. She praised me to the highest.

I started to laugh and say "so, you basically lied through your teeth?"

"You know me Evel, I would never lie for you." (holy shit! I had forgotten about the born again thing.)

"Wow, if I hadn't forgotten about that, I probably wouldn't have listed you as a reference."

I guess I didn't realize how much I helped her. You know how people thank you and say stuff like "what would I do without you?" ? You take it with a grain of salt, right? Well there is nothing like a true Christian to let you know that sometimes, just sometimes, people aren't just blowing smoke up your ass.

Just never ask them, "do I look fat in this dress?"

Very interesting....

Another email directing me to more spine chilling info on Iraq and Saddam

This guy is one sick puppy.

Twelve hours later.

This is the same stretch of road, 12 hours later.