Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Another prequel disaster.

I watched Exorcist the Beginning today with the boy. He wanted to watch in the daytime because I told him how terrifying the original Exorcist had been.

Well, we could have watched this slop in a haunted house, it fell flat. Not really sure where they went wrong, I guess if I hadn't seen the exorcist and known it, I wouldn't have gotten most of the plot. I think brand new viewers would be lost.

"Exorcist: The Beginning" isn't a bad movie, it is just not a very good one. I give it a C+. by Robin Clifford (robin AT reelingreviews DOT com) Full Review

Almost entirely incomprehensible, Exorcist: The Beginning not only foregoes the straight-ahead, propulsive narrative minimalism of the first movie but also the creepy genius of its quiet, upper-middle class setting. by GEOFF PEVERE
MOVIE CRITIC, Toronto Star. Full Review

But don't take their word for it, see more reviews here. There seems to be a consensus. I was totally disappointed by it, and was so glad I downloaded it instead of paying good money to go the theatre.

The problem with this movie I think is that they don't focus on the religious aspect of the plot, which is what really gets ya, and I don't care what religion you are. I remember grabbing the bible afterwards and reading revelations. It made you think that their may be some truth to it, that is what makes it so scary.

My advice is rent the original and if you like it, move on to the Omen. Another really good nail biter movie.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Murderous intent.

A little background.
CC is a large group consisting of hundreds of agents in multiple locations across the globe. But Pro is a small group, around 80 (at our location), in two locations. Our location covers is 9am - 1am and the other is 24hrs so they cover us from 1am - 9am. Even smaller is the group that works my shift which is 5pm - 1am. On the weekend there is, at most, 6 people working in Pro. Last night it was 5 and one of those was off at 11, so essentially 4 of us till 1am.

Since the last shift preferencing, the team working the weekends has changed. With the old team, we would coordinate our own breaks and lunches as to not leave one poor soul on the phones to take all the calls. Now mind you it is slow on the weekends, but we do take calls. This 'new' group does not have the same work ethic or professionalism. One twit in particular I will showcase here.

During lunch, I ask the twit when her lunch is, she says 8:30 so I say, fine I will take mine at 8. My last break is at 10:30 but we are taking calls so I wait a bit so we are out of Q before I go. It's 10:45. I walk out and light a smoke, behind me comes Forest, another agent. Still fine, that means 3 on the phone, they can handle it for 15 minutes. I sit down, and I see the Twit walking through the break room, she comes outside and I look at her like she has three heads. "What are you doing?"

She gives me this stunned look and says, "It's my scheduled break." FUCK ME! That means there are two people on the phones, Bali and one of the newbies, J.

I shake my head and throw my cigarette in the ashtray and rush back. I get back to the phones and we are 7 in Q. Forest cuts his break short as well and heads back early to help. The twit comes back in, because she is left all alone outside and sits at her desk. We are still in Q and she just sits there. I shoot her a couple of dirty looks but she is that much of a moron, she doesn't get it. Anyone looking at me at this point would know I was steaming mad, but not this crayon.

Finally we are out of Q, I wait a few more minutes just to make sure and sign off my phone. As I sign out (again) for my break she comments in a cartoon, snow white voice. "Break time!" What the fuck did you think I was on before Twit! As I am banging out my code in the time keeper machine, the lone Team Manager calls me over. He realizes that I am fuming mad and asks if I am upset with him.

"No, I just have to get out of a job where I have to work with children." I explain to him what happened, and go for my break.

When I came back I planned to talk to the new team and explain to them that it was unprofessional to just take breaks, even if they were scheduled, if it would leave less than half the group on the phone. I wanted to express the need for teamwork when the team was so small. But I couldn't calm down enough. Even as I write this I want to strangle the Twit.

So I try to ignore her. She is having none of it. She keeps letting out these deep, heavy sighs that say, 'I'm bored, talk to me.' No fucking way, Twit, if I talk to you now I will grab you by the throat and squeeze the life out of you. I spend the rest of the night ignoring her, pretending I am talking on messenger and deep in conversation, all the while I was really typing gibberish in notepad.

Give me strength.

Thursday, August 26, 2004

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center? my name is blah blah blah... Continuing case? Great, I am just going to check the hold time in that Q for ya. It looks like about 45 minutes"

"What? The last girl told me an hour and that was an hour ago."

"Ok, and now it's 45 minutes, it gets better as the night progresses."

"But she told me an hour so I called back, now you are telling me I have to wait another 45 minutes?"

I don't think this crayon gets the concept of HOLD. Average HOLD time means you have to actually BE on hold. I explain this to her.

"When she said the HOLD time was one hour, you would have had to be ON hold and you would have gotten a tech in an hour. That's what hold means."

"I wish she had of explained that to me."

"Well maybe she thought it was self explanatory?"

I think the moment that their brain catches up with them, they realize they are moronic and then turn around and take it out on you.



I now know the reason they have to put 'lather, rinse, repeat' on shampoo bottles.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Someone's knocking and it ain't opportunity.

My yearly bout of cleaning frenzy was interrupted tonight by a knock on the door. The kind that every parent dreams of. I open the door and this guy says, "Are you so-and-so's mother?"

Lovely, "What did he do?"

"Well he didn't do anything, but his buddy busted my tail light."
That's just great. I knew in an instant who he was referring to and I am not surprised.

Last night I dropped the boy off at his friends house and he told me he was going to another friends. I ask him who and he tells me, "Buddy"

"Buddy who?"

"Buddy Boy."

"The same Buddy Boy who tore the cable off the side of our house last summer?"
This kid is trouble, always been in trouble, for the stupidest things this kid gets in trouble.

"Ya, but he's not like that anymore, Mom. He's trying to get his life together." Always willing to give the benefit of the doubt, I say, "Fine, but if you get in trouble I am not coming for you, I will send your father." He assures me they are just going to play PS2.

So, back to the guy at my door. I tell him, "I know exactly who did this, it was Buddy Boy. Talk to the police, they know him." Even though this guy knows that my boy didn't do this, I tell him that we will pay for half the tail light.

Later when the boy comes home, I tell him this and he goes ballistic. Why should he have to pay when he didn't do anything. I explain to him that sometimes you have to pay for the bad choices you make in life. This time it was hanging with at kid that gets into trouble at the drop of a hat. I told him, "Just be thankful that the kid hadn't decided to burn someone's house down while you were with him."

The boy is more upset that he can't hang with this kid, he says he is nice, and they have fun playing PS2 and just hanging. But this kid is not wired right. He has more problems than anyone knows.

What kind of person just walks down the street and decides at random to bust someone's tail light? For someone who is 'trying to get his life together' he sure has a funny way of showing it.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Zoo Tycoon.

Went out last night to a friends house to pick up a couple gerbils. I missed having them and she keeps a shitload to feed her snake, so she gave me a couple. She also has, in a separate tank, mice, lots and lots of mice.

I approach the tanks and am slightly amused to see hamster wheels. Ok, this is a staple of any good rodent cage, but it seems kinda sadistic here. After all, these are not pets, they are food. I stick my hand in the tank and a dozen of the more stupid gerbils approach my hand and try and climb up.

I shouldn't say stupid, because the appearance of the 'big giant hand' could mean food or it could mean someone is going on a long trip that they shan't return from. And I suppose no one has ever returned to tell of the horrors of being eaten by a snake.

I pick a couple of small black ones, Jay and SilentBob. These two don't know it yet, but I just saved their lives.

I then direct my attention to a smaller tank with the mice, again with a hamster wheel. As I am oooing and awwwing over the cute little things, face to the glass, one of them turns and HOLY SHIT! That one is a boy!

Just a tip, if you are wondering if the mice in the pet store are boys or girls, wonder no longer. I am here to say that you cannot mistake a girl for a boy in the mouse world. This thing had balls. Huge balls, gigantic, drag on the ground, hairless balls.

Picture if you will, a tiny mouse the size of your thumb. Cute eh? Now put human balls hanging off it, the size of two plump peas. I wish I had a picture, because my discription really doesn't do it justice. I am completely traumatized.

I think she probably just drowns the boy mice, cuz ya just know the snake would gag on those puppies. You thought German Shepherds were bad? They got nothing on mice.

Saturday, August 21, 2004

Am I part of some sort of sleep deprivation experiment?

I woke up this morning to the sounds of the girl upstairs moving out. Just when I thought I might be able to sleep in (no construction) she backs a truck up to my bedroom window. JESUS!I live in a duplex, I live down and she lives up. My bedroom window is right next to her entry door.

It was an ideal arrangement because she had 3 jobs so she was never here. That was good for me because she was never around to complain when the boy made too much noise.

This is upsetting, I may have to become a good neighbor. That sucks on so many levels. I am a good neighbor, but the boy is not. Which means, I will be the one to suffer.

It is interesting that the landlord didn't mention this to me since we usually chat for a while when he comes for the rent. Perhaps it was a spur of the moment thing. Will have to ask him.

Anyway, finally had to get my ass out of bed, couldn't stand the commotion any longer. This will probably go on for a few days and then I can look forward to the next ones moving in.

No rest for the wicked.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004


I can't believe no one posted on the whole 'David Copperfield being Jesus' thing.


Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Six of one, half dozen of the other.

Capital one called me today, I was wondering why because I had been talking to one of them a few weeks ago and we made arrangements for me to pay $50 every two weeks to get the balance down.

So this guy calls today. Just to set it up, before his call I would be paying $100 by Sept 9th. That's two payments. So he calls up telling me he wants to set up payments. I told him I was already talking to a guy (Sam) and we had already done that. He tells me that Sam was in a different department and that my file was sent to his department now and we had to make other arrangements. WTF? Ok, so why did the other guy give me payment arrangements only to pass me off to another department to do the whole thing over again.

Fine, lets make arrangements again. I told this guy (BTW his name is Emron, what is up with that?) that Sam and I made arrangements for $50 per pay.

"But this is no good, we need $105 by Sept 5th in order to get the account up to date." I told him the 5th was no good cuz I don't get paid till the 9th. He says "Ok, by the 9th then."

"Great, then its a deal, are we done?"

"So, can you pay $70 right now?"

"What happened to $105 on the 9th?"
It was like, if you agree to something, they don't hear you, so they go for a different number.

"We need $70 by the 26th."

"Then why didn't you say that before, we already agreed that you would get $105 on the 9th, you want $70 more right now?"

"No, 70 now and 35 on the 9th."

Ok, this is getting long and drawn out, I will cut it short, it goes on for 15 minutes. Finally I say ok, whatever you want.

"I am just curious. Do you realize you just irritated the hell out of a customer for 5 extra bucks? Sound good to you? I am hanging up now before you ask for a 60/40 split." He was stunned and I hung up.

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

Monday, August 16, 2004

Again I say, Thank God for Americans.

For without them, I have no job.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ my name is blah blah blah...Can I have your first and last name please?"

"Uh, I just have a simple question." He probably means moronic, that's why he doesn't want to give his name.

"Well I am not a technician..." They don't get this statement, and usually just keep on talking.

"I just installed a sound card." And he does not disappoint. "Do I still need speakers, or will the sound come out of the card?"

There are no simple questions, only simple people.

Sunday, August 15, 2004

I'm up! I'm up!

Ok, I like Jesus as much as the next guy, but why the hell does he need bells? I mean come on! I don't even think they had bells back in the day and I am pretty sure if you asked him now he would say, "Ixnay ethay uckinfay ellsbay." at least until after, let's say, noon? Ok, so Jesus wouldn't use pig Latin but I don't know real Latin so it will have to do.

So, since I was so rudely awakened, I set off for coffee. The rude bell ringers are lining my street, making it difficult to maneuver. They park like idiots, I supposed putting faith in God that us heathens won't sideswipe them cuz they are parked half-ass crooked with their front end jutting into the street. I finally get out of my driveway without scraping paint and I see a bumper sticker on one of the bell ringers cars - CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN. Holy shit, I hope not.

Can you imagine if he did? Good lord, he would have to play it a lot different this time. None of this loaves and fishes crap, he would have to show some serious destructive power or he would simply be mugged in the street or locked away in the loonie bin. He really wouldn't stand a chance in this day and age. And his dad would then have to destroy the planet, cuz his kid didn't even get the chance to turn some water into wine.

In fact he probably wouldn't even have been born. Virgin birth? Joe of today would not deal with that shit as well. He would snap Mary's neck and be doing 20-life.

He would probably have to sneak Jesus in, forget the star in the east, the prophesies, none of the "I am the son of God" shit. Stay under the radar, but still get some attention. Maybe get the message out subliminally.

Hey! Maybe David Copperfield is Jesus? He does act kinda weird and he flys. If you think about it, it's genius.

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

I was on my way home from a 'friends' house the other night and stopped into work to change the password on my computer since it was about to expire. Someone commented on my wet hair and I told them I had just gotten out of a hot tub.

They gave me this look. "Who's hot tub?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."
Again, an incredulous look.

Ok, just because I don't broadcast my sex life, doesn't mean I don't have one. Or several for that matter. I live alone, but I am by no means lonely. I don't date in the sense that I go out to dinner or the movies. I am more of a booty call kinda gal, only I make the call. I have a few 'friends' that I 'visit'. We have fun, we part, simple. Un-complicated.

Once you broadcast it people start in, "Oh, who is he? When can we meet him? What's he like?" Like? I don't know, do you really want the gory details. I don't know what the hell they are like, decent guys I guess. I don't have any deep philosophical conversations with them.

At this point in my life, sex is just sex. When you are young, sex is a part of getting involved with a person. It leads to living together, possible marriage. If your lucky the sex is still good, but most times it is just something to do. It becomes a treat, like watching a good movie or eating out. (no pun intended) I don't feel like going through all the soap opera shit, with having the boyfriend meet the son, having that boyfriend end up being an asshole and starting the whole process over again. It's brain dead, and pointless.

I have done my time, lived with someone for years. Right now sex isn't something I expect once or twice a week, or something I wish would lead to something else, its just sex.

Great sex, mind you. But just sex.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

My schedule.

I don't know how I get any sleep at all. They are still doing road construction on our street. After months of this racket they had better be paving that bitch with gold.

Does anyone care that I work nights? NO. What is it with people in general? "Oh, you don't have to work till 5, you can take me for groceries." Ok, you work at 8am? I will call at 4am and ask you to come over and fix my car. What? That's about as crazy as what you are asking of me. I get home at 1am, but I don't go to sleep. I am up till at least 5 or 6, then you call at noon and are surprised that I am still in bed. FUCK OFF!

And another thing...

My days off are Monday and Tuesday. MY days off. My days off. My days off. Are you getting this? They are My days off. The days in which I do not have to work, or anything else for that matter. Once again. MY DAYS OFF! MINE! MINE! MINE! Do not take it upon yourself to schedule me to do something for you. FUCK OFF!

Don't bother calling me just to say hi,(like that ever happens) because I will not ever answer the phone. I am done trying to explain this to people.

Sunday, August 8, 2004

Of course this is my fault.

"Thank you for calling Undisclosed Computer Software Company� my name is�blah blah blah Can I have your name and phone number please?�

"Jesus Christ, I was just talking to someone and he hung up on me."
Great, a fishwife, she is screaming her head off.

"I'm sorry about that, can I have your name and phone number please?"

"I already gave that, I need Graham back, can I get back to Graham?"

"As soon as you give me your name and phone number I will see what I can do."

I get her info but I have no record of her calling. "You were talking to a support proffesional?"

"Yes he was having me uninstall some software and he hung up on me!"

"Ok, did you get a case number? I am not finding you in my system."

She loses her mind, she didn't get a case number, or an extention number for 'Graham' she wants him back. I try to explain to her that this building alone has over a thousand people in it, finding Graham would be difficult. I ask a few questions to see where she may have gone without a case number. It is very rare that she would talk to a tech without one. Finally I tell her that we will have to start the process over, I appologize but it is the best I can do.

"FINE! But make it quick, I am loosing patience with you fucking people!" Nice, you kiss your mamma with that mouth?
"Can you read to me everything it says on the face of the disc?"

"For distribution with a new PC, for product support contact the manufacturer of the pc..."

"And who is the manufacturer of the PC?"


"Mamme, we do not manufacture PC's, we are a software company. Who is the manufacturer."


"Ok, but mamme, this is not Gateway.
PAUSE FOR EFFECT If you like, I can transfer you to Gateway."

"This is fucking rediculous!"
I agree. This woman is giving me attitude because she called the wrong number.

This is what I have to deal with.

Friday, August 6, 2004

The brood.

Pictures of the brood, as promised.


This is no tail, the one we thought was a rat. He is so cute, when he feeds he sticks his butt in the air and he looks like a tiny polar bear.

These are the black and white ones, the boy wants to keep one of these. I believe the one wearing lipstick but I can't be sure. I am hoping he gets over it.

Thursday, August 5, 2004

Dude looks like a lady. (or is it lady looks like a dude?)

It is 6:45am and my son bursts into my room.

"MOM! Something is crawling under my bed!" WTF? Jesus, I just went to bed 3 hours ago."It's making noises! MOM!" He's totally freaking out.

I race to his room, thinking, what the hell got into the house? As soon as I open the door I see it. A small, wet thing, crawling across the floor. At first I think it is a rat or something and prepare to beat it to death with a shoe. I swing back and am about to bash its brains in when I decide I should probably take a closer look. I flip the light on and then I realize what I am looking at. A small, wet, white kitten.

OK, I sound off! Luci is fixed and the other two are dudes. WFT?

Did one of my cats kidnap a baby? Do I have a degenerate living in my midst? I notice the kitten is on a mission. He is looks like he knows where he is going, he is trying to get back under the bed. Okey Dokey, I pull the bed out only to find Oscar, curled up in a ball with two more kittens.

This is interesting. I look at him, well her I guess now, "Dude! You had babies."

That's when the boy totally freaked out "What are you talking about?"

"Oscar....um...he...she....well it looks like Oscar had babies."

The boy is mortified, "You're lying! Oscar is a boy!" The look on his face is priceless. The laws of nature have been broken and he can't deal.

Oscar is equally freaked out. He She, has no idea what to do. I had to get a box together and lay him her in it so the babies will feed.

What is so freaky is the three babies, look just like the three adult cats we have. One is all white, like Luci. The other two are black and white, like Oscar and Babe.

Hey, wait a minute. You think Babe could be the father? Guess that is possible. Pictures to follow.


I just picked up the white one, and thought there was something odd with him but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then it hit me, he has no tail. Weirdest thing.

All fun and games till someone snaps your neck.

Our MO (Manager of Operations), lets call him....hmmmmm.... Moe, ya, Moe.

Moe comes up to me when I am on a call and says, "Can I talk to you when your done, Bud?" When he calls me Bud, it can't be good. So when I finish the call I go find him, he is talking to another MO so I wait, and wait, and stew, and wait some more. Finally we start to walk to his office. On the way he says,

"I just wanted to talk to you about PPA." Bane of my existence for over a month.

"Oh kay." I say, very slowly. Where is he going with this?

"We are looking at having an agent full time for PPA that would be a dedicated PPA agent at this site." FUCK ME GENTLY! HE DOES NOT THINK IT WILL BE ME!

My heart is pounding, I am speechless, I try to speak and all that is coming out is a panting sound. Finally I say, "Moe, you do know that I almost lost my mind on that Q?"

"Yah but you did so well............"
then he cracks, he is doubled over, "I can't do it, I'm just kidding, TM thought it would be funny, and he was right." He is laughing his ass off.

"Jesus, Moe, I was just about to drag you into that cubicle and snap your neck, don't do that! That is not funny!"

"Yes it is, its the funniest thing I have every seen."
Speaking of the look on my face. He falls into his chair, still laughing. I am still trying to get my breathing under control, and plotting my revenge against TM.

Turns out he just wanted my thoughts on how the PPA thing went and info on call times. I go in search of TM. When I find him, "Very funny, Brat! Hope you have eyes in the back of your head."

Your gonna need 'em.

Wednesday, August 4, 2004

Going to have the bullshit fed back to me.

Haven't posted regularly because it has been so f'ing hot! Jesus, I stay in bed all day with the fan on and can't wait to get to work just for the AC.

I am still trying to get an appointment with HR for feedback on my resume. I have to find out what the hell they want me to say, cuz I sure as hell can't figure it out.

BTW the guy that got the job "owned his own business". That 'business' happened to be pizza delivery, but, hey, that's fine. Now don't get me wrong, he is doing well but any monkey could do the job. That probably explains why they have stuck with this idiotic system for so long. It is not like the TM's have their finger on the button or anything, its not rocket science.

They say that their system is 'fair'. Of course the only people it is fair to is the unqualified people with a flair for bullshit. It really doesn't matter if you are qualified or not, if you can get past the bullshit in HR, your in. It would be more fair if they just put our names in a hat.

One TM got the job by flat out lying on his resume, I know because I got a hold of that resume. Two of the companies he said he worked for didn't even exist, I checked. Apparently HR does not. They use some kind of fucked up point system for grading resumes. I will take notes in feedback and let you know.

This should be interesting.

Sunday, August 1, 2004

Never work with animals or children.

Tonight we were severely under staffed at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. At 9pm there were three agents online taking pro calls. An older lady (J), me and PatPrick. (no I didn't spell it wrong) We were in Q the entire time, steady. At 11 PatPrick's shift would be over so J and I coordinated our last breaks as to not leave PatPrick to hold down the fort alone.

At 10:55 I am curious as to how high the Q is so I hit the Q button to reveal 5 in Q with 2 AOL (Agents online) WTF? J is on a call, I am signed in, where is PatPrick. Few more minutes tick by and there is PatPrick, punching out.

ME: "I thought you were off at eleven?"
PPrick: "Ya."
I point to my watch.
PP: "Couple minutes, big deal."
ME: "We are in Q." I want to add, asshole, but I don't.
PP: "Well good luck with that ladies."

I give him the finger. How fucking rude, what a prick. Chivalry is officially dead and buried. I am raging. He is lucky that I was on the phone and didn't have anything heavy to drive at him. (I do not throw like a girl.)

I am steaming, I message the only TM on duty. I don't give a shit if this asshole thinks I am a royal bitch, I want the fucker capped. It's called call avoidance, and it's rude.

This is what we get for working with children. J agrees, although I think she was scandalized by my foul language. Couldn't be helped.