Driving truck

On any given day, the office I work at might get two to three vendors stopping in to drop off product orders and goods for our branch. The FedEx guy, the Alterra Coffee dude, the Otis Spunkmeyer cookie man. In the winter, Luis the rug guy even picks up the soiled carpets every other week.

All these people – 100 percent of which are men, from my sample size – drive around southeast Wisconsin delivering and distributing goods for their company. They all may work for large corporations, but they drive a truck for eight to 12 hours a day, most of which is windshield time by themselves. No wonder they can’t stop talking when they see another human being.

Today the Otis Spunkmeyer man, Donnie, stopped in. He dropped off the cookies, and started talking about his company and the changes since their merger with a company in Sweden, and how banks aren’t what they used to be, and how he tried to buy a Lexus, and when he owned his liquor store a few years ago … I got half this guy’s life story in our 10 minute conversation (or lecture? I didn’t do much talking).

I can appreciate what they do, but I’ll take a cubicle in an office over a truck, any day.

Earth Hour

I received an email at work encouraging all employees to participate in something I had never heard of: Earth Hour 2010. (http://www.earthhour.org/)

Here’s the rundown:

On March 27, 2010, from 8:30-9:30 PM -- for your own time zone, people all over the world will be turning off all of their electricity as a protest against climate change.

In 2008, countries all over the world participated. According to the website, “Global landmarks such as the, Sydney Harbour Bridge, The CN Tower in Toronto, The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and Rome’s Colosseum, all stood in darkness.”

I understand the concept – to show our reliance on electricity and power; and subsequently its global impact. Hopefully, it would encourage more people to use less electricity – or at least show them how much they really rely on it.

Along with most people, I’m guilty of wasting energy. On top of electricity, I’m talking about water and fuel too. I leave lights on all over the house (Gregor can attest – and I’m sure he will), my laptop and the television are constantly on when I’m at home, I wash dishes with the water running.

That’s not to say I haven’t taken steps to stop wasting energy too. I’ve used my cruise control more on highways (saves gas, fewer run-ins with the 5-0s); I try to grab all the items I need from the refrigerator at once when I’m making a meal; I turn the water off when I brush my teeth.

So this March 27, I’m going to try turning the lights out for an hour. Maybe I can get a little creative, and figure out what to do for an hour in the dark.

Get your head out of the gutter.

Why jobs are like boyfriends

When I got laid off in July, I was bummed out. I sat around by myself, I cried, I ate and drank things I probably shouldn’t have. I discovered websites I didn’t know existed through hours of daily Internet surfing.

Now I’ve been looking for a job the last three months, with little to show for it (except an updated resume and a bunch of business cards from people I’ll probably never talk to again). Then I realized, looking for a job is like looking for a boyfriend. Observe.

The break-up

Sure, we had disagreements and fought once in awhile … but I thought I was pulling my weight. I helped out when I didn’t need to. I made you feel good when you were down. I gave you my heart, and you stomped on it. With no forewarning, nonetheless. What did I do wrong? Of course, I had to figure we were both having problems and dragging this out longer than necessary. But we were both comfortable, weren’t we?

Do I talk too much? Did I ignore you? Did I break the fax machine one-too-many times? And much like a severed relationship, I’m left wondering why instead of just moving on and getting over it.

Nesting

Now what do I do with all the hours I would usually spend with you? I can’t go and hang out at your place. That would just be weird, and needy. Instead I sit on my couch for hours watching terrible daytime talk shows and rented movies. I sit in my pajamas and I don’t shower until 2 PM. I eat cereal for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Along with ice cream, pizza and cheeseburgers.

When I’m feeling a little better, I try to find some fellow singles to go out on the town on a Tuesday night. But I can’t because ALL MY FRIENDS HAVE JOBS.

The first date

Finally, for weeks, I’ve been searching and searching for that someone special. We meet online and notice a connection. Hey good lookin’. Say, you’re in the Milwaukee area? You need someone with my kind of experience? You like grammar and correcting typos? Let’s meet!

We decide on a day, find the location and pick a time to meet. I have to dress to the nines and make sure I’m on your A-game. I’ve only got one chance to make a good, lasting first impression.

When I get there, I have to talk about myself. Incessantly. Not only that, but you have to make yourself sound good. Not only that, I have to make sure I ask you questions too.

The callback

This is usually done by phone or email. Texting in either situation is absolutely unacceptable. So far, I’ve received at least a dozen emails before and/or after an interview saying why I’m not their type. “You don’t have enough experience,” There were so many well-qualified applicants and it was difficult to choose,” or, my personal favorite, “I’m not sure you’d move for me.” (Not a direct quote) Fine. I’ll move one. It’s not like we knew each other that well anyway.

But the trouble always is, you don’t always know exactly why they didn’t pick you. You can’t read minds, and ask that potential employer why they made the decision they did. What’s that person you picked got, that I ain’t got?

Going steady

I’ve dragged the metaphor on, you can probably figure this one out. It’s when the job you’ve been seeing says they want to offer you a place in their heart. Or a cube, as it were. You want to support me and give me insurance? Let me celebrate holidays with you and meet all your friends? That sounds swell.

In all respects, I’m still single. Sure I’m playing the field right now with a few freelance opportunities; but I have yet to lock down that lasting relationship.

That said, I can still say I learn from every job I meet. I realize that some of the interviews I go to, I wouldn’t want to work for a particular person or company. Or I realize that I really, really want that job … but they found someone that can type faster, joke better or has more, ehem, experience than me.

Why I (don't) work

YEAH, I haven't been around in awhile; what of it? I've had a pretty busy summer, including camping or traveling out of town at least half the time, seeing the Brewers at least 6x and (literally) running all over Wisconsin. Not that I'm complaining. In fact, I've still got some pretty awesome stuff coming up in the next few weeks.

I'd say this summer was on it's way to making the top three best ever (#1.) Summer of 2003, after my freshman year of college, and #2.) Last year.) Until July 20, 2009. Dun-dun-dunn.

For those of you not familiar ... I got laid off because of financial cuts at the Company. I've also recently found out that the Company filed for Chapter 11, hoping to clear some of it's debt. But that's probably another post.

Optimistically, being let go has given me the potential opportunity to cut ties from Fort Atkinson and will *hopefully* end up being a blessing in disguise. But before I came to that epiphany, I had a few choice words with myself and the keyboard. So without further ado, and any without editing whatsoever, I give you the "Working Rant."


"The look of pity is the worst part.

It hadn’t hit me. It still might not have. I’m sad, but it’s more like a relationship break-up than a job loss. I’ll miss some of the people I worked with. I’ll miss having something to go to on a daily basis. I’ll miss the actual work. But I won’t miss the bullshit of dealing with corporate red tape and preferential treatment.

The question that keeps going through my mind is, “Why me?” It was a purely economical move, so they said … but could it have been some other underlying issue. Was it really only the numbers? When you have a staff of six running two magazines, and four of those individuals are sales representatives, how will one editor handle all of that work? I hope they at least compensate Brendan for the load of work that will now double. Didn’t they realize the assistants and associates (editors) were the ones that do all the work? They’ll find out.

It may have been that I got to work a few minutes later than everyone else. But I also stayed later. Is it because I asked to arrange some kind of telecommuting procedure for working from home a few days a week? Did they then think I’d being my search for another job, because I didn’t get what I wanted? After that conversation, and after reassessing my financial status, I decided I would continue to live in Fort Atkinson for at least another year. But they didn’t know that. Could it have been that?

My being on editorial focus groups, and helping out for different magazines couldn’t have even been a factor. (err, sarcasm.)

The other issue I’m trying to wrap around my head is that I had been doomed from the start. RV Trade Digest, my initial book, had gone under completely. My one saving grace was leaving that magazine – but I still got left behind.

And to reapply for another editorial position at the same company? (HR called to let me know there was another associate editor position available) Really, to work with Brendan, and have a working relationship with some of the people there again, I’d do in a heartbeat. But not at that same company. Why should I even attempt to give anything to a company that believed I wasn’t an asset to their future? We’ll part ways indefinitely, so I can cauterize this wound, instead of wondering if they’ll rip away bandages over and over again.

I’ve come to terms with the publishing world. It’s not the happy-go-lucky, laid back job I thought it’d be. It’s pure cutthroat.

Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy what I do. I take pride in my actual job, and the tasks I complete. Along the way, I meet a few pretty cool people. But in this industry, it’s not what you know. It’s who you know. Networking can be a bitch. If done properly, it’ll get you to the top of the mountain. Not doing it can leave you stranded.

After my mom discussed the possibility of working for Social Security, I thought about it. Why wouldn’t I at least #1: go into a government job, which might have a little more security, and #2. Work in customer service again. I understand the ropes. I also get that it’s treating others the way you’d like to be treated. No more unethical business about running a lax company. I won’t have to deal with the skewed views of middle and upper management trying to handle a financial crisis.

In customer service, at least your job is to help others. That idea is also extended into the workforce. People enjoy helping others, but also enjoy the satisfaction of being treated equally, and with respect based on not only how they interact with their peers, and serve their clientele, but also on their performance. That’s the one thing that distinguishes a service industry career from a media career."


At this point, I'm not sure where I'll go next. I'm still applying for editorial jobs. But I'm applying for more consumer-based publications, or online-focused media. And, I'm keeping my options open.

Cube scavengers

As part of my "worst week ever" series, I found out that our magazine group had to move to a different set of desks on Wednesday. Same cube farm, two aisles over.

So today, the six of us got some boxes together, called IT and started the transition.

My problem, mostly, is that the move seems completely unnecessary. I'm still about 10 feet from the office door. But now they took away my window (poor Leon!), and I have a muzak speaker and blasting air vent anchored to the ceiling above me.

Moving, in general, sucks.

To see the silver lining, I can say it's a good thing because I had the opportunity to clean out my desk, and some of the drawers and filing cabinets that haven't been touched since I moved a year ago.

And I also got to hunt for new things. I went out in search of a drawer organizer; because my junk drawer's brimming with random crap like socks, gum and whiteout.

I wandered around the office looking in abandoned cubes for some cool new gear. I found some metal separators for my drawers in an old publishers office, and a drawer organizer for some pens and paper clips.

I also found an ergonomic chair, but Brendan stole it before I had a chance to take it to my cube.

this morning, too, I even dug through my closet to find some posters I haven't had up since college, to try and decorate my workspace a little bit more.

So here I am all settled.


I moved the wall over, so my entrance is in a corner instead of the center. That makes my cube look luxurious. Notice, too, how big Leon's getting.


There past my cube, you can see the one lone window I have access to again, instead of the wall of windows I had previously.


Easy exit.

Mixing business and pleasure

I remember the first time I heard about Facebook -- the summer before my senior year of college. My friend Amanda, who went to UW-Oshkosh, told me I should join. I hopped online and went to the site. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how in the hell to sign up. Turns out, UW-Stevens Point hadn't even been added to the list of FB-friendly colleges yet.

Back in 2005, the networking site was set up solely for college students; and not even all universities had the luxury of joining. Profiles were limited. Customization was non-existent. Members had a place for their picture, a wall for friends to send public messages to, and a section to fill out basic personal info like interests, movies and quotes.

As the networking site expanded, so did its members. Now, more and more people are joining Facebook. First with the addition of high schools, then expanding to the entire interactive community. That's all well and good, but what do you do when acquaintances at work, or professionals from your industry request to be your friend.

I never personally seek out anyone on Facebook. If I went to high school with you -- we'll leave it at that. No offense, but if we haven't talked in eight years, and barely conversed in high school, what do you think we have to discuss now? I don't care if you're "shopping at the mall!!!" or "have an aweful cold." Those everyday things can be left to your real friends.

In order to limit my invasion of privacy, I've severely limited my information posted online. I still have pictures up from drunken debacles in college, or family holidays. But, only about 30 people can see that information. If you can, consider yourselves lucky. If you can't -- don't be offended. The only way you know about those pictures is by that stupid newsfeed anyway. Not many people actually log on with the intention of looking at my personal page. If they do, they have full access anyway.

I'm reluctant to add friends by request too. Lately, more and more people from work add me to Facebook. My publisher, sales reps, cube neighbors... where do I draw the line?

I already set up the "Limited Profile" section, but to avoid embarrassing or more personal information from leaking out at work, I set up a "Work Profile" for people whom I hardly talk with, or have even had a conversation in person.

If you're not my friend, my picture and networks don't even show up.

A couple months ago, my editor decided to join Facebook. Once he established himself in the interactive community, he knew I was familiar with the site and came to me wondering how we could get our two magazines more face time with younger readers.

I was initially excited -- then reluctant. I set up Fan Pages for both magazines, added links to all the back issues, video of tool reviews and product previews, listed upcoming events. But that meant I also had to be a fan.

The Fan Pages are still a work-in-progress, but readers who are familiar with the networking site are becoming fans of our magazines.

It's a double-edged sword. The project itself has become my baby. And it looks good to integrate different communication mediums for our readers. But now, the lines are blurred.

So don't take it personally, this is strictly professional. If I don't know you, I just don't want to be your friend.

All you can eat?!

Disclaimer: I haven't read Chelle's post yet -- if she has one up -- in case it's about the same thing.

Since filing our taxes last week and realizing we'd be bumped to the next tax bracket with the $$$ from our returns, Chelle and I decided we could afford the luxury of eating out one day this week for lunch. What better place to spend $6.50 than Fort's famous China Buffet.

So I've compiled a list of pros and cons for AYCE dining here. Without further ado...

PRO: Duh. All you can eat.
Some might consider this a con, but as a lover of all food, everywhere, I disagree. You get the choice of anything on the menu -- and as much as you want. I usually start with a salad to make myself feel good. Then, I head for the main course with rice, teriyaki chicken, steamed broccoli, eggrolls. Finished up by a full plate of crab rangoon. Which are no doubt the worst thing up there for you.

CON: Herds.
Have you ever been to Golden Corral? It's the largest buffet-style restaurant I've ever eaten at. ONCE. It's the equivalent of rounding up 10's of 100's of obese Americans, forcing them to stand single file, waiting to eat out of a trough. We hit upCB during the lunch rush, but it wasn't that terrible.

PRO: Free drinks.
Free hot tea. Soda if you like.

CON: Sanitation.
...or lack thereof? (Again, CB isn't as bad as other places.)
Imagine how many indecisive eaters find a food, scoop it to their plate, then decide it's a no-go. Another example: I opted for a full plate of crab rangoon for dessert, instead of ice cream. Why? Because the ice cream spoon sits in a metal bowl of cloudy, tepid water for self-service scooping. Why don't we all just lick the fucking thing instead?

PRO: It's cheap.
For a sit-down meal, and personal waitstaff attention, it doesn't get much better.

PRO: FRANCH dressing.
Sometimes foreign people misspell things on accident. Exhibit A -- French dressing. In honor, I decided to use french and ranch to create their crazy blend. (Have a nice fright!)

CON: Bathrooms.
Circa June 2007, I couldn't wait until getting back to work before relieving myself. That was the first and only time I entered their bathrooms. I'm sure there have been coat hanger abortions and knife fights in there. At the same time.

PRO: Other than that... Appearance.
The rest of the place, besides the WC and the ice cream scoops, are pretty clean at CB. They're really good about refilling, and making sure the food looks presentable.

CON: The people.
Fort's finest choose buffets as a means to cover all five food groups in one meal. Or are there six now?

PRO: Fortune cookies!
You have to crack them open and eat them first, before reading your fortune.
"You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands on." ...in bed.

I'd give this visit a B+. For less than $10, we made a pretty awesome decision.

Music week: songs to work by

While I'm sitting in my cube, I like a more mellow mix of music to listen to while I'm responding to emails and writing up stories. Plus, it helps drowned out the obnoxiously loud sales calls and people on the phone around me.

These songs also work well for background music around the house, or for artistic inspiration for writing or drawing on my own time.


1. Parasite - Nick Drake
If I chose one acoustic artist to listen to from here on out, it’d be Nick Drake. I first heard him on the Garden State soundtrack and thought, "Wow, this guy's great. He's probably a small act... maybe he'll be at Summerfest, or some other music festival." Guess what -- he's from the early 1970s. He made a post mortem comeback only because VW decided to use the title track of his album "Pink Moon" for a car commercial a few years ago. He plays clean acoustic with a unique voice.

2. The Wolves (Act I and II) - Bon Iver
Anything by Bon Iver (His real name's Justin Vernon) is phenomenal; but also really mellow. He recorded his entire debut album on his own in the northwoods of Wisconsin. After that album "For Emma Forever Ago" was released, he gained international acclaim, and even made the Top 100 albums of the year according to Rolling Stone.

3. Cigarettes - Russian Red
I can't find that much out about her, but she has an amazing voice. She's originally from Spain, and every site I find with information on her is in Spanish, but she sings in English. Hmm.

4. Tiny Vessels - Deathcab for Cutie
The crescendo at the end of this song makes it a little louder for work, but it still keeps a slow tempo. Most Deathcab can distract me from the bustle sometimes going on outside my fabric walls.

5. Ada - The National
Great piano, and with Matt Berringer's soothing baritone voice, it helps drowned out any other crap going on around the office.

6. The General - Dispatch
I first heard this song my freshman year of college when a guy opted to play it on his guitar as his final project for Philosophy 110. I don't really know what his reason was, but I immediately went back to my dorm and downloaded the song, along with any other Dispatch song I could get my hands on.

7. The Breeze - Dr. Dog
Listen to this if you need to calm down. If you close your eyes and relax for a few minutes, you'll feel much better.

8. Sun It Rises - Fleet Foxes
My favorite new band of 2008. I usually listen to the entire album at work. This is the first track, and a great introduction to the CSNY-esque band.

9. Stranger Things Have Happened - Foo Fighters
Thanks to Gregor, I've been introduced to more Foo -- and I'm not complaining. I usually associate them with a rich, louder rock sound, but I knew they had a greater capacity when I heard the acoustic version of Times Like These a few years ago. This is my favorite song from their new album Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace.

10. Take it Back - She & Him
Remember when Zooey Deschanel sang in the movie Elf? Well, she really can sing. She collaborated with M. Ward to form She & Him, which released their first album Volume One early last year. Sounds a little like something you might here on the radio in the 1970s.


Runner's Up: Sea of Love - Cat Power; Innocent Bones - Iron & Wine

Closing time

I closed up shop for the last time at my PT job yesterday.

After weeks of cutting hours and giving me only waitressing shifts, I decided it was time to hang up the towel and put in my notice. For my one last hurrah, I got to bartend -- which I enjoy doing just a little bit more than serving food. (I'm a terrible waitress.), and hadn't done since about mid-October.

While working there, I worked with and met some awesome people, made mad tips and got to know the town I live in a little better. That's all well and good, but bars and taverns have one of the highest turnover rates out of any service/retail job out there. I'll tell you why:

#1.) It's stressful. You deal with belligerent assholes on a nightly basis. You meet all kinds of drunks. Happy, sad, angry, oblivious... any emotion on the spectrum. When it's busy, you run around like a chicken with your head cut off. Stocking, shuffling, mixing drinks, spilling, yelling, breaking bottles. When you screw up an order, inebriated people are less forgiving, especially after they've waited 10 minutes for a drink.

#2.) Health risks. Steering completely clear of tobacco since August, I now find any type of smoke repulsive. My body shouldn't be subjected to 8.5 hours of secondhand smoke from not just cigarettes, but cigars. After that long of a shift, not only do your clothes smell like bar, YOU smell like bar. It seeps out of my skin 24 hours later for fuck's sake.

Live bands and loud music for hours on end make your cochlea want to explode. Tough shit if you have a headache, you won't be able to hear for the next three days anyway.

#3.) Getting hit on. OHH, you might be thinking, "How flattering!" NO. Well Rico Suave, after that shot of Jack, you suddenly question why I'm working at this shabby old bar. What do I do? Where else do I work? What's my social security number? ... I've received phone numbers on napkins, receipts, matchbooks, and leftover Styrofoam containers. I tell you I'm taken and not interested, but you continue to harass me -- even after I offer conversation segways about sports, weather or movies. This is my job buddy, not match.com.

#4.) Clientele change all the time. Now, you'll have your regulars -- Big Tom who never sits, only stands, at the bar drinking Bud Light. The Jehovah's Witness couple where the husband always orders the drinks and food for the wife. Peter, who works at the newspaper, always enters through the front door, orders only one glass of Pinot Grigio, leaves $0.60 in change and leaves out the back door...

But there are also a bunch of random people who try and get to know you -- after they've had a few. I'm awful at small talk and find it difficult to hold conversations with 40-somethings from small towns, whom I have NOTHING in common with.

#5.) Stingy assholes. This is by far worse on the waitressing end of working at a bar; some people just don't know how to tip. If you've been pleasant, served me in an efficient manner and I'm satisfied with my meal and drinks, I'll let you know. That generally means leaving at least 15, if not 20, percent of the bill for meals, and 50 cents to $1.00 for each order of drinks. Not $2.00 for a fish fry and an entire night of drinking. With you and five of your friends. Asshole.

What will I miss most? The money. Which sounds arrogant, haughty and greedy; but bartending is a tough job.

I've seen my share of bar fights, flying bats, cops, stumblers, flashers, snoozers at the bar, and some of F.A.'s finest, hammered.

All in a night's work.

Cube sweet cube

I figured everyone might want to see where the magic happens. Ahem, that means writing.

I tried as much as possible, to make my surroundings like home. I'm here at least 40 hours a week, so I mine as well spruce it up a bit.

Without further ado, I present to you: My cube.


There are a few pictures of my family, including the little cousins, and my Norwegian flag magnet :D

FYI: The motivational poster above the phone was a card my old editor gave me. It reads, "Motivation: If a pretty poster and a cute saying are all it takes to motivate you, you probably have a very easy job. The kind robots will be doing soon." hahaha. Robots can't edit.





This is what I stare at all day. Above and to the right, there's a calendar with all my deadlines. You can't really see it, but there's a map above the computer that has all the states I've traveled to.



To the right of the computer, you'll see where I store my snacks, and how I try to dress up my ridiculously large CPU. There's also a picture of Hulk, and a Post-it with a drawn coffee cup that says "HOW ABOUT A NICE CUP OF SHUT THE FUCK UP." Good morning!



Then, some archived issues of the magazines I work on.



Behind me, I started a collage of different pictures. It's a work in progress.



Then, my junk drawer. It's like the rug I sweep all the garbage under. Except, all the garbage is this crap. You'll find a bunch of napkins, loose change, candies from Halloween, a lint roller, socks, saline solution, an Altoid tin full of tacks, a couple sets of headphones, cords, and STACKER 2. (!)



And, last but not least, my toys. Chewbacca's protecting Leon (my philodendron). There's also a voodoo doll I picked up in New Orleans, the Michelin man, which I stole from the aviation magazines, and a gas tank clock from the show in Vegas last month.


Notice, too, how looking past the plant and figurines, is like looking into the abyss. Or, a tunnel you can't see the end of. Ahh... cube farms.

Down to brass tacks

Making small talk is not my forte.

Once I get to know you, We might engage in thoughtful conversation -- maybe even joke around. Heck, we might even become good friends. But especially being a stronger introvert, I need to find some common ground with you, and get to know you first.

My professional career, however, involves talking to people I don't necessarily care to. So what the hell am I supposed to talk about...

The biggest conversation starter?

Weather.

Everyone sees it, and it's always different. Plus, it won't start any controversial discussions.

Some categories are naturally out of my league because I'm female (I'm not sexist, I'm frank); especially in a 40-something, male-dominated industry. Topics I usually avoid include: sports, hunting, politics and loose women.

I can sometimes discuss wine or food, but I'm no real aficionado. And, in-season, I might get by with a few comments about the Brewers or Packers -- but no lengthy discussions.

Sometimes I'll mention family -- but I don't have a husband or kids to compare stories and compete with, like every single other person. (Don't get me wrong. I DON'T WANT those stories. I'm almost 25, not 40.)

When I go to trade shows, I generally read up on whatever locale I might be headed to. This includes the local food, historical sites and keeping an ear out for interesting things happening in the news at the time. A huge topic was the Presidential election when I was in Vegas last month -- making a big exception to my previously stated rules.

It's a little easier on the phone. I worked in a call center for two years before my current job, so I learned how strike up brief conversations based on where the other person called from, like "Oh yeah, California? I hear those forest fires are getting a little wild." Or, "Wow, I heard some parts of Colorado got two feet of snow. Crazy!" But that's IT.

Now when I call a PR company, or someone to interview for a story, I try to make the introduction as quick as possible. After that, I tell them why I'm calling -- Send me a high-res image of your neat new product, or tell me about your magnificent tool box.

Roll with the punches

Yeah, I'm gonna complain. Deal with it.

After having the most exceptional weekend (:D), it becomes easier (and harder) to appreciate shitty days. Especially on a Monday.

Here's why:

*I woke up getting about half as much sleep as my body wanted. I even skipped my shower this morning to sleep in an extra 15 minutes.

*My car wouldn't start this morning. Now, I anticipated this. Friday afternoon the engine had trouble turning over, but still started up. Then, Saturday I had some trouble, but the car still got going. I had to wait until 9 this morning for Triple A to show up and give me a jump. Turns out my car battery had a bad cell.

*I dropped a Benjamin to replace said battery.

*Showed up at work around 10:30 AM -- 2.5 hours late.

*I thought I broke Gregor's monitor because it went haywire when I turned on his computer, and the screen looked like it did when your NES would take a crap and not play a game right.

*Apparently, after leaving three voicemails and two messages in one week, some organizations still don't understand the idea of returning a phone call. I need that PR now dammit.

*My chicken and bacon wrap for lunch from Subway tasted like ass. Also, Subway in general, tastes like ass.


So, I'm going to rationalize:

*I only didn't get enough sleep because of having such a great weekend.

*My car didn't die while I was in the middle of an intersection, or when it was -20 degrees outside.

*Money no matter.

*My editor kicks ass, and probably understands more than most because we work for an auto mechanic magazine.

*I did NOT break the computer.

*I got to enjoy and share 10 dozen cookies, eat Capital Grille and BW3s (!) this weekend. On top of seeing the MSO, making pancakes Saturday AND Sunday, going bowling and seeing a real life singing gnome.

I just hope Tuesday starts off a little better.

Flu shots

Disclaimer: I've taken some factual liberties with the plasma story, like the use of two needles. See comments afterward.

I am terrified of shots. I can't give blood. If I'm within a 10-foot radius of a needle, I suddenly become light-headed with the onset of fainting symptoms.

Well, this week, my employer is offering both the opportunity to Give Blood to help out our community AND the option of paying $10 for a flu shot.

The former is absolutely out of the question. I've developed a justified phobia to needles.

Here's why:

Back during my freshman year of college, I decided to join my roommate and a few friends at BioLife in Stevens Point to donate some of my plasma. Now, not only was I doing science a favor by giving up my precious fluids, I was also being rewarded handsomely in cash.

Initially we had to set up individual appointments for a physical. I passed but couldn't give plasma that day because, apparently, I hadn't drank any water at all that day. (You need to be hydrated in order for them to stick a needle in your arm.)

I had given blood a couple times during high school blood drives, so I was vaguely familiar with the procedure. I'd like to think it was to help out the community and give something back -- but in all honesty, I got out of at least one class for the day. Plus, you get juice and cookies.

I have perfect veins to donate, but I have the problem of becoming severely light-headed when I would give blood. (Or, get shots at the doctor.)

Move ahead two weeks for my donation appointment.

I walk in, fill out the paperwork and wait for them to call my name. As I sit down in the dental cleaning-esque chair, I hold out my right arm, ready for action. Unbeknownst to me until that point, the nurse begins prepping not one, but BOTH arms for needles.

Time out.

See, when you give plasma, they draw blood out of one arm, remove the plasma, and put your blood back in. The other arm has a saline drip to keep you hydrated.

A little apprehensive at this point, I realize I'm in trouble. I can hardly handle one needle, just taking blood out. Now, they want to take blood out, put it back in -- and THEN, introduce some other foreign shit into my arm? My mind made me physically regret this decision immediately.

Move ahead about five minutes.

I start getting light-headed, and tell the nurse. She suggests slowing the blood drawing, and upping the saline. Good idea? Bad idea.

When the saline enters your veins, it's room temperature. Think about it. It's maybe 72 degrees F on a good day. My body sits at a balmy 98.6 degrees.

It felt like death was crawling up my left arm.

Apparently it looked like it too. The nurse decided then that I was no longer eligible to give plasma. As I started to get tunnel vision, she advised me she'd be stopping, but they needed to keep the needles in my arms while they got my body back to normal, continuing the saline drip.

There were at least three people helping out when I came around. They told me my eyes rolled back in my head, and I started shaking uncontrollably.

As I recooperated lying down in a nearby room, I saw on both arms, purplish-yellow bruises beginning to form. The nurse came in to inform me that "your body rejected the needles."

WTF does that mean?!

I walked up to the counter about 20 minutes later, waiting for my much-deserved compensation.

The cashier placed her hand on the $20 bill, slid it across the counter and said, "Don't come back here again." I haven't had a needle in my arm since.

Now, shots are along those same lines. Granted, things are going in instead of being removed -- but any foreign change in my homeostasis, and my body goes nuts.

I've decided I'd rather be vomiting in a cold sweat for three days with the flu, rather than have to deal with that crap again.

Viva Las Vegas

I know you're all anxiously awaiting my return... but I'm out of the office this week in Las Vegas for the AAPEX/SEMA/NACE shows.

I heard Billy Mays and Danica Patrick are here. No sightings yet.

Until next week...

What's up Doc?

So I finally became a big kid. It's been high school since I actually had all of my doctor's appointments in order, on an annual basis for checkups... but now I'm completing the trifecta on my own for the first time. (And, with my own insurance!)


I went to the optometrist to update my prescription and get new contacts last month. I visited the doctor for the annual check-up earlier this week. And now, come November 20, I'll be getting X-rays and a thorough cleaning of my pearly whites.

Now I've made an appointment for a tooth cleaning. When I was younger I saw a toof specialist at least once a month, namely for the bothersome task of getting my braces tightened. Ouch is right. But since high school -- sans a toothache that required an emergency visit senior year at college -- I haven't seen a dentist.

I'm excited to say that I'm taking care of myself. Being an adult sometimes sucks. I have bills to pay, things to clean, schedules to maintain, time to exercise, eat right, free time to find, taxes to avoid, hurdles to climb, family and friends to visit, money to make (which consequently means keeping a steady job), novels to write, etc.

But just looking at one thing at a time, like this little victory, makes me feel like I'm on the right track.



Did I mention this health business gets pricey? yikes.

Cube farms

I feel like I escaped from the range, and I got to roam free... but then they caught me again and stuck me back in this cel--, er, cubicle.

I went to San Diego to cover a mass transit show for another magazine at work this week.

Traveling for work can be draining. It's exhausting waking up at 6 AM, running around a trade show, setting up interviews, taking pictures and writing stories. After the show floor closes, ad reps usually want to take out their clients, and request editorial to tag along for dinner and sometimes drinks, causing me to turn in at 11 PM, midnight,1 AM... whenever you can tactfully exit or leave unnoticed. Day after day for a week.

But, there are perks too.

We stayed at the Omni Hotel in DT SD, across the street from Petco Park and the Hard Rock Hotel. I ate seafood every night. I had a $30 Middleton Rare at a real Irish pub. I got a free beer stein. I saw Ed Begley Jr. talk about riding a bus for 45 minutes.

AND, the best part -- I was out of the office.

I like the diversity at shows. You're always moving, always doing something. I sleep for three days straight when I get back, from exhaustion... but it beats the everyday monotony of sitting in an office.

Now I'm back at my desk trying to avoid having my eyes gloss over while I stare at a computer screen, sorting through 300 emails, tuning out obnoxious phone conversations and listening to soft rock radio from MUZAK.

eep... help!

Alimento delicioso

Dear God, my mouf is on fire.

Best find ever? The Mexican grocery store, located smack-dab in the middle of my house and work.

The place is really called Carnicerias Guanajuato. I don't know what in the HELL that means, but they have some amazing food. Besides including a small pawn shop, fresh produce section and butcher shop, the place also has an area where you can order authentic Mexican food.

Well, the closest you can find in south central WI anyway.

The menu's displayed in Spanish, with the English equivalent, sometimes poorly translated. They have a ton of different meats including Asada (mmmm steak), Pollo (chicken), Carnitas (pork), Cabeza (beef head) and Tripa (intestines). I haven't had the Cabeza or Tripa yet. No cojones.


They have enormous burritos, nachos, quesadillas and tacos. I usually get tacos, which they make with a small corn tortilla, meat, onions and cilantro. No cheese. THAT'S IT.

They also have about half a dozen different fresh salsas, which burn the hell out of my mouth... but taste delicious.

I've never had Horchata either. It's called "rice water" in English, and tastes like sugary milk with cinnamon or nutmeg. Om nom.

The best part? The price. I spent $2.09 on a chicken taco and a beef taco, picking up the free chips and two kinds of salsa.

No mo' promotion?

Sometimes, I'm not sure when it's appropriate to bring up my two cents. I'm a pretty laid back person, and I try not to get strung out about the small things.

Today, the latest issue of Professional Distributor showed up on my desk. Being one of two editors for the magazine, I paged through to check out what kind of blatant mistakes we might've missed as far as content, layout and overall visual aesthetics.

I turned to the Table of Contents on page 4, only to find for the third time since I've been on this publication that my job title was printed incorrectly.

I received a promotion from the entry level position of "Assistant" to "Associate" Editor last October (2007). Back in April, I then made a lateral move as an Associate Editor from one magazine to another.

But, right there in bold, capital letters it was printed: "Assistant Editor."

Here's a generic breakdown of editorial positions:

Editorial Intern
Assistant Editor
Associate Editor
Managing Editor
Editor
Editor-in-Chief

Now, I can understand the occasional verbal slip when a sales rep is talking to one of their clients; or maybe when someone writes a quick email -- but after already correcting the masthead for the previous issue... why in the HELL was it changed back.

When I was hired, as an Assistant Editor, I learned the in's and out's of magazine publication. I figured out how to set up interviews and research information for my readers. I learned what a dummy was, and how to do it (The monthly layout of articles and ads for each issue). I realized meetings are usually time-consuming and accomplish little. I found out the inner-workings and moral logistics of editorial content compared to selling advertisements. I know what sans serif means.

As an Associate Editor, I have more responsibility. I write more. I edit more. I ensure more information gets to our readers. I collaborate with, versus taking orders from, my editor more often.

I'd just like that to be acknowledged.

I've been everywhere, man.

At work, we're on the cusp of trade show season. As one of the editor's for Professional Tools & Equipment News and Professional Distributor. I usually fill my time in the office writing about tools for mechanics (yeah, wrenches and ball pine hammers) and stories for mobile tool dealers (think Snap-on).

I don't work for a glamorous industry by any means, but I do get to check out different places all over the U.S., without spending a dime.

I love being able to travel to different places, learn the different cities and try out new restaurants. Of course, I have to work by going out with the sales staff when they take out clients, and I'm in charge of going to different company booths to pick up product information, which I'll eventually write about. It's not a vacation, but it gets me out of my cube.

October kicks off my time more frequently out of the office, where I'll be wined and dined at the company's expense. That also means I'll be dealing the most concentrated gathering of 35- to 50-year-old men in one central location.


Oct. 4-8, 2008 - ATPA Expo; San Diego, CA
Okay, this is a freebie, and it's not for my magazine. I'm doing the show daily for our company's Mass Transit publication.

Nov. 3-7, 2008 - AAPEX and SEMA; Las Vegas, NV
Biggest show for our industry, apparently. No other shows are booked in Vegas this week, and it takes up the entire LV Convention Center. It's a big deal.

Jan. 15-19, 2009 - Mac Tool Fair; San Antonio, TX

March 8-11, 2009 - Matco Show; Las Vegas, NV

March 13-15, 2009 - Cornwell; Anaheim, CA

Simple distractions

This morning at work, my editor Brendan, and I had a 15-minute talk leading to a discussion of how crreepy dolls and clowns are. And what I love more than anything, is being distracted from doing actual work. (I <3 FB and digg.com)

My boss Brendan's pretty good about continuing random conversations. We've talked about baseball or football, Rita Hayworth, Jackson Pollock and Picasso, movies, the meaning of names, Irish rowing teams, George Dickel Whisky and other useless, yet highly retainable, facts and random information.

Conversations might start with a simple question or statement, but they continue with tangents. I mean, not everyone continually talks about the weather, or sports.

For example, I asked my co-worker, Dionne, what she did last weekend. Then, she asked me. We ended up talking about her plans to get a hummingbird tattoo for her birthday from her husband.

Striking up random conversations with co-workers is also one of the best ways to get out of my cube and visit people. Makes the day go by faster.