Tired.

This place is going to be boring as fuck for a while. I am tired as hell when I get home so I usually don't see 9pm. I am up at 5 if I am lucky but most days I wake up before the alarm.

Lenny and Pablo are a riot to travel with. The tall tales from High School seem to be the most popular topics of conversation. As with any group of aging men, they are reminiscing about their youth and these poor schmucks haven't even hit 30 yet.

When I catch up on some sleep, I will give you the highlights.

Golf.

This cracks me up every single time I hear it.

SLOOOOOOWWW BURN!

First bad day of training and it had nothing to do with training.

There are 13 people in the class, most of them have worked for the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ for the last 7 months. That being said, they already know how to troubleshoot internet issues from the ISP side.

I, however, do not. Input is one thing, but yesterday? All I heard was 'we did it this way' or 'we used to do it that way'.

I DON'T GIVE A SWEET FLYING FUCK HOW YOU DID IT. I AM TRYING TO LEARN HOW THESE PEOPLE DO IT!

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

They tried to play a service call so we could hear how it goes. Well, at least I think it was a call. I can't be sure because one or two of the former ISP people (those that could not or would not see that I was in a slow burn) would not shut the fuck up so I could hear it.

One of the trainers noticed my displeasure. "What do you think?"

"Sorry, but I never heard a word of that call." From the tone of my voice, it should have been blatantly obvious that I was pissed that I couldn't hear the call and unless you were a total retard you could guess 'why' I couldn't hear it.

Unfortunately there is one kid in class that has a huge superiority complex. Lets call him 'Wally'. I am sure he believes that he is doing us a favor by spouting his opinion and that we wait with bated breath for the next pearl of wisdom that he deems us worthy to receive. In my case? He is so fucking wrong.

I kid you not, if I hear 'At the Undisclosed ISP™ we used to ...' I will snap someones neck!

At the end of class the trainer stops me, "If you want to move up to the front so you can hear..."

"I'm not deaf. I am irritated." He looks at me, not sure what to say but he totally understands why. "No worries, I will take care of it, I am planning to beat him to death in the parking lot."

He was already in his car on his way out of the parking lot when I got out there. But I will take care of it today.

I will have a word with him.

Pinch me!

We had an awesome first day of training. They fed us breakfast and then lunch.

I am so tired I can't keep my eyes open, but suffice to say....it was one great first day!

I'm up! I'm up!

It's 3am and yes, I am up. The alarm was set for 5am but I can never sleep when I am starting something new. I have too much on my mind. I am traveling with a couple of guys (not my car) and The Boy will be driving himself to school.

Is there gas in the car? Does The Boy know how to pump gas? I never thought to show him. The tires are low, does he know how to put air in them or even how much? When was the last time I checked the oil?

Fuck it! I get up and take the car to the garage, make sure it has gas, check the oil and put air in the tires. Might as well grab a coffee on my way back.

Get in the shower, dry my hair. It is now 4:48am and I am ready for the day.

Nothing to do now but surf the net and goof off. Or I could call the sister....you know, pay her back for all the times she called me before noon. Something to consider.

The wonders of being domestically challenged.

Sookie (not her real name) cooks for me.

Ok, so she doesn't actually cook for me, but she cooks a lot and I get the leftovers.

Everyone knows that I am 'domestically challenged', I don't cook. I microwave, I barbeque, but I don't cook. Sookie takes pity on me and when she cooks for the kids (5 grandkids) I get the leftovers. The other girls get their noses out of joint. "She never brings us dinner."

"Ya, well you can cook for yourselves.....I don't cook."

The other night I got roast beef, spicy chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy. Oh, and a lasagna.

Don't hate the player.

"Be Vewwy Vewwy Quiet!"

"We'we hunting wabbits."

My last shift was tonight and the girls in tech routing gave me a card. In it was a picture of the bunny slippers they knew I wanted (that's them on the left...I heart them, they are lavender scented and microwaveable) and a bunch of cash. They weren't able to order them and get them here before my last shift so it is up to me to order them. Simple, eh? NOT

What the hell is wrong with Canada? No one wants to ship here.

"Will only ship to US."

What the fuck is that? In case you weren't aware, we are that huge country directly above you. Roads continue on at the border, I promise. Planes actually get through since we took down the force field. You can ship things to us. You just refuse to do so.

How am I gonna function in my new job without my bunny slippers?

UPDATE: 9/22/07

Bunny Slipper ordered! I found a seller on eBay that would not only wait for the money to be transfered to my PayPal account but will ship to 'far off' Canada.

Are you kidding me?

I have two days left before I terminate my employment with the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ and my manager picks tonight to put me on employment review for my attendance. I kid you not.

He is reading the form letter to me. "This letter is just to inform you that we are concerned about your attendance..."

I give him my best whinny voice, "But I promise I will do better." And just as fast, switch it off, "Oh wait....no I won't."

Gives ya a warm and fuzzy feeling, don't it?

I think I might call in sick on Friday.

ROAR!

Add 'Appliance Repair' to the resume.

This fuckin' thing decided that it would stop draining in the middle of laundry the other day. After two days of sitting in the corner, half full of water, you can imagine how pretty it smelled. The Boy was already tormenting me on my backup plan to have his clothes laundered.

I cannot ignore the smell any longer so I start to bail it out. As you well know, manual labour and I have a strained relationship (no pun intended) so after a minute or so I just say, "Fuck this, I am going to fix this mo'fo!"

Sounds impressive until you realize I have no idea how to fix it. But when has that ever stopped me? I gather what tools I think I might need for the job. All I could come up with is a screw driver and a flashlight. I had no idea what I was doing.

So I crack the thing open and turn it on. You know, so I can see what is not working. Brilliant, except I don't even know what I am looking at. I am on all fours, feeling very plumber'ish, I think I might have even had some butt-crack action going on. At this point I decide to turn the dial to 'drain'. An action that immediately activates this little doohickey.


Excuse the picture...it was dark in there.

I shine the flashlight at it, not really knowing what I am looking for but I see there is something in there, something dark. Again, not knowing what is supposed to be in there, I foolishly decided to check it out. So I unplug the machine and crack that puppy open.

Guess what? That doohickey is what contains the rubber plug that allows the water to drain. Ya, a flood of three day old water. As I am trying to quickly decide whether to jam the thing back on or just let it drain and hope that I can control the flood with the contents of the nearby laundry basket, this comes flying out at me.

Nice, eh? Like something out of a horror movie. This picture truly does not do this thing justice. It was slimy and smelly and I swear to God it moved!

Decision made. I get as far away from the creature and work on stemming the flow of water into the rest of the apartment. The water finally stops without too much damage. I sneak up on the creature, scoop him up and fire him in the toilette.

Convinced he was the reason for the drainage problem, I reassemble the washer.

The moment of truth. I fire it up, and IT DRAINS!

I have Mad Skills!

The end is nigh.

Well I am creeping up on my last day at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™. While I will miss working for Bill, I will not miss the bullshit that is cubic hell.

Seems like this week people are just trying to make me go postal? And not even people that usually irritate me. People who I usually get along with famously are taking this opportunity to get on the absolute worst side of me.

When call volume is low, they take us off the phones so we don't fuck up the service level. You see the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ does not get paid for 100% service level, its more like 75, but if we go over we don't get paid more. On the occasions when we are above 75% and there are no calls coming in, they have to take us off the phones to force the service level down. They can't send us home for fear that call volume will spike and there is no one there to take calls so the came up with this program that barfs out useless, politically correct customer handling training. Stuff like proper breathing and stretching, positive attitude...blah, blah.

In our department we deal with a lot of students and summer is our down time so you can imagine we have been in more than out of these knowledge sessions. We are long past having any left to actually do, so when they tell us to go into this mode they pretty much know that we have no courses left to do and that we will just be sitting there doing nothing.

Don't get me wrong, we love that shit. Sit around and get paid for doing nothing, but after a while it gets boring.

Back to the 'going postal' thing. Most of us are going into this knowledge session when one of the managers comes up to me and says, in his best Nelson Muntz voice, "You are banned from knowledge sessions." I was half expecting him to point and say, "Nah Ha!" It was a totally juvenile moment.

"Why would you give a shit if I take a call or not? Does it effect you in any way?" He thought he was being funny, but he was just stomping all over my last nerve.

Now these last few days, they are not letting anyone go home early and no long lunches. What this means is we all sit on the phones and do nothing. They couldn't even put us in the knowledge thing because the server was not responding. So we sit. And sit.....with nothing to do.

I doubt I will last through my last shift.

Separation of church and state.

I think I might start another blog just for the work-at-home gig. You know, something I might actually be able to show my employer.

This blog pretty much chronicled my whole stint at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ although I had to take great pains to make sure upper management did not get wind of it.

I often though it would have been a better idea to separate the work shit from the personal stuff. But by the time I thought of it, it was way too much work to separate it.

So, I am thinking I will start the new blog with my first day of training. Put out some info on how it really is to work from home. Keep it clean, for the employer and then tell you how I really feel here.

This also might be a good opportunity to try one of the other free blog hosting outfits.

So, my questions for you:

What should I name this new blog?

Any suggestions on the blog host? Who do you use and how do you like it?

Knock it off, or I will knock it down!

The odd, well timed, inspirational, bring awareness to a problem video is all well and good.

Just keep it off my FunWall please.

I open my Facebook and prepare to smile. What embarrassing pictures did Potsie post from his weekend at the Moose & Squirrel? Who's having a birthday, gotta post some silly animated birthday card. How many old farts from high school can I track down today. HA, someone sent me a friendship turd. This is a happy place, right?

Holy Shit! 16 dead kid videos on my FunWall? WTF? When I see those videos I get enraged, I want to hunt down the asshole who hurt those children and have them sand blasted or skinned alive. Right after I find the asshole who posted this on my FunWall and punch them in the throat!

It's called a FunWall people. Not a 'depress the shit out of everyone you know wall', the name was a little wordy so they went with FUN! Ya, you cringed at the 'dead kid' reference. "Not very sensitive or PC of you Evel." But that is exactly what I mean. I sound insensitive because they have desensitized me.

It seems there are some people who do nothing but sit and watch 'dead kid' videos and post them on everyone else's wall. How fucking depressing is that?

I am not saying don't try and bring awareness to child abuse or drunk driving but there is a time and a place for everything. I am trying to cram a little fuckin' joy into my otherwise shitty life, "You're bringing me down, Man!"

Keep that shit off my FunWall......
or I swear to God I will tear that mo'fo' down!

Drugs! Get your piping hot, free drugs here!

The reason I had gone to the doctor in the first place was to stock up on my blood pressure/cholesterol meds. With only one week left at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™, I had to act pretty quickly. Not an easy task to get to see a doctor within a week, but I did it.

Since it would be 3 months before my benefits would kick in at the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™, I would have to pay full price for my meds while in training. Not acceptable since the meds are $27 per month with coverage and $116 per month without. That's a fucking car payment!

So I tell her my story, hoping she will write me a prescription for 90 pills instead of 30 when she comes out with, "So, you are looking for some samples?"

"Uh, okay."

She leaves and comes back with this:



Holy shit! Ten weeks of meds. That's $290 worth if you're counting.

"Will that do?"

Fuck ya....got any Vicodin back there? Being as how you're offering.

Note to self...

Never go see your doctor to have your blood pressure checked after running around doing errands in lunchtime traffic, drinking coffee and eating an entire bag of jelly beans.

And don't try and talk your way out of it.....She has an automated machine, 159 over 96.

The woman is very droll, "It is higher if you talk."

"Ok, I will shut up now." It didn't help. I failed the test

Just for that I get blood tests, pelvic exam and a mammogram next time. (Looking forward to having my tit pop liked a zit when the hydraulics malfunction.)

The bitch is not playin'.

Just a matter of time.

Half a second after I hit SEND on the resignation letter, the Big Giant Head sends for me. "He wants to see you."

"Wow, that was fast. Has he read the email?"

"Don't think so , he has been standing over there the whole time." He indicates the rows of empty cubes.

As I approach him, my sister intercepts. She is carrying something. "Here's a pen for your new desk!"

"Hello? I haven't even told him yet."

The Big Giant Head raises and eyebrow, "Why am I always the last to know?"

"I don't know, read your email."

He tries to recover, "I actually knew this yesterday."

"Really? Cuz I only found out this morning."

"Maybe it was earlier today." He has his finger on the pulse.

Then he goes into his schpeil:

BGH: He spreads his arms wide, "How could you give all this up?"
ME: "You're kidding me, right?"

BGH: "But you are giving up all this tenure with ..."
ME: "Tenure isn't doing me any good." It really is the least beneficial in the grand scheme of things. Except that I know where all the bodies are buried.

BGH: "But its a smaller company..."
ME: "It's a Maritime company. It has been around since Jesus was a carpenter and it will be around long after I am gone."

BGH: "But you will be taking a pay cut."
ME: "Forty cents. And the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ awards raises by skillset. They train me for something new, I get a raise. If they did that here, I would be making more money than you."

BGH: "But..."
ME: "Look, I have been trained and worked in every department in this joint. The way it stands here now, there are people who are trained for one job (customer service) who are, and will always be, making more money than me. The only thing I have not done is the ISP support, and if I am going to do that, I might as well be doing it in my bunny slippers."

BGH: "I see, well if you decide you can't stay for the full two weeks, let me know and there will be no negative repercussions."
ME: "Aside from the fact The Boy would starve? Thanks anyway, I will be here."

I GOT IT!

This just in. I got the job! She called me at an ungodly hour but I managed to sound chipper.

Film at Eleven.

Who can wait for eleven?

Now we are so happy, we do the dance of joy!

Maybe I can win the lottery?
(Written, but not posted, on 8/25/07)

The most wondrous thing happened to me Thursday night. I will probably not post this until after I find out if I got the job at the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™, just in case the wrong people read this. (this may or may not make sense later)

So my cousin Potsie and I get early release from work and decide to get a bite to eat on the way home.

It is important to note that Potsie is gay. Not just gay, openly gay. In fact he will throw you in front of a bus just to chat up the cute driver as they bag and tag you. He really doesn't care what team you play for, he figures he can recruit you.

But I digress. We stop at a local pizza joint and I notice my old boss' van out front. "Oh great, just what I need." We didn't exactly part on good terms.

As we walk through the door of the crowded pizzeria, the boss is walking out. He nods at me, "Hello." Very civil. I nod back and mumble a hello. Then he notices Potsie, "Well hello, Potsie!"

Potsie and I stop dead in our tracks, and as the boss walks out the door we say, in unison, "How do you know Boss?" He grins.

"AH HA! I KNEW IT!" Even in the busy pizza joint people stopped and stared. I was bursting with joy, I could hardly contain myself. I could not wait to get out of that place so I could pump Potsie for more information.

Later as Potsie chatted up the boss in the gay chat room, the boss was pretty much shitting a brick. You see, as he was informing Potsie that he was 'very discrete', Potsie dropped the bomb that I was, in fact, his cousin.

Holy shit. I need to buy a lottery ticket. My luck has certainly changed. I can't wait to call him and ask him for a reference.

And another thing...
(Added Today)

Still no word about the job....no news is good news I guess.

Who says that? That is just bullshit. No news is not good news, it fuckin' sucks.

Luciano Pavarotti | 1935-2007

‘The world weeps for Luciano Pavarotti’



He was an odd egg, but the man had mad skills.



Every time you saw him in interviews you just knew this man lived life.


(Not bad for a Canadian kid, eh?)

He seemed like he was having a ball.



He lived large.

2007: A Backpack Odyssey?

I just figured out how to send messages from my cell phone to contacts on my messenger.

I know, we have had the technology for a while now, but I did not. Just call me HAL. This technology would have come in handy when I had to fly solo on a mission to pick out a backpack for The Boy.

"You know I have only the most enthusiasm and confidence in this mission, Dave."

The Boy sends me on this mission and sets me up for failure.

I have to first set the stage.

I am waiting for a call from Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ about the job so I forward my home phone to my cell so I don't miss the call. This means that I cannot call home. With me so far?

Ok, so The Boy's mission? Get him a backpack. If any of you have a teenager, you know it is not that simple. You can't get a lame one, or a gay one, etc, etc, etc. So I grill The Boy for particulars.

"I want a Swiss backpack." Pretty specific. "Black, blue, anything but red."
Since he is so specific, it does not really register what he has said. I have the brand name in my head and I am off to Staples.

As soon as I locate the 'Swiss' backpacks the gravity of the situation hits me.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? Dave, I really think I'm entitled to an answer to that question."

I am staring at this thing in disbelief. I can't believe he has done this to me.
My blood runs cold as I stare at the Swiss backpacks. Swiss, as in Swiss Army Knife.

STAPLES ONLY CARRIES THEM IN RED!

"There's been a failure in the pod bay doors. Lucky you weren't killed."

The woman is trying to break me!

The recruiter from the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ called me today. I got excited because I heard that people were getting calls offering them the position.

"Is it good news?"

"Well, it's not good news yet."

The woman is killing me. Aparently they were unable to get in touch with one of my references (the old boss)and they need another.

Jesus H Christ! I gave her three more and I know that she talked to two of them before I left for work.

Now we wait............again.

Maybe not an Academy Award winner butt...

Just sittin' around with the boy watching movies. He likes blood and gore ones, Chainsaw Massacre, Grind House, that sort of thing. He also likes action movies so we downloaded Universal Soldier, circa 1992. A classic.

This is what I love about Jean-Claude Van Damme movies.


The gratuitous butt shot!

TB: "Not much of an actor is he?"

ME: "Uh, what? Sorry, did he talk in this one?"

This is definately a movie I can get 'behind'.

Summer vacation is over. Thank Fuck!

Sometimes the boy will ask a question I know the answer to, but don't. Does that make sense?

Mostly he will ask me questions that he knows I don't have the answer to and could never know.

"Why is the sun yellow?"

Ok, I could probably find out the answer to that, but I am busy catching up on live feed updates for Big Brother and I don't give a fuck why the sun is yellow. He does this, I realize, just to get on my last fucking nerve. I can not wait until school starts.

He sees that I am reading something, so he starts.

"What is Labour day?"

"It's a holiday for workers."

"But why do schools have it off?"

"Teachers work."

"But why..." I know he really doesn't give a flying fart about any of this, he is just trying to bug me. I should have called the little bastard Butt Why, he says it enough.

"Why are you wondering about this? You have Google, don't you?"

So, here it is. Everything you ever wanted to know about Labour Day.

Have a good one.

I am woman, hear me roar.

Men go crazy buying every screwdriver known to man and every drill bit. He has dozens of drawers and tool boxes and half the shit he doesn't even know he has. And the other half he doesn't remember what it does.

All a woman needs is a good rock and a butter knife. Possibly a bread knife if something has to be sawed, but when does that ever happen?

Today I am fixing the molding in front of my shower. It literally disintegrated. I did need some sealant, but the knife pried the old stuff out and the rock nailed the new stuff in.

Oh and I did need that bread knife for the miter joints.

ROAR!

The suspense is killing me.

As I was coming into work last night 'Toby' stopped me. "The Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ called me about you today."

"Really? That's great, what did you say?"

"Lied through my teeth."

"Cool, thanks."

Must be a good sign that they called one of my references, don't ya think? Now I just have to worry about the other one. Unfortunately since I only ever worked for one other company in the last 10 years, they wanted to talk to my old boss. Long story short, he fired me.

I can't say right now but despite how we ended things, I believe he will give me a good reference.

Now we wait.