Everyday Stupidities

Sorry about the delay, I've intended to sit down and write this for days and have had the time, but... So last time I pledged to share some stupid stuff. Where to start? Well, so far I've not got any job leads, and I've received unofficial confirmation that the place that hasn't called me in the last three weeks isn't going to. No surprises there but it's nice to at least hear that while I'm just as qualified and experienced as half the people already working there, the HR people don't think I'm qualified or experienced enough. (Ask them to do the job...) I spent a few hours in Seattle yesterday at an agency to get myself some possibilities, and won't twiddle my thumbs waiting for them to get on the ball since the dude asked me the same questions in person as he had on the phone the day before and as were on the online application. Was rather comical when he asked for my résumé since he'd gotten my name and details to get in touch with me in the first place off saidsame résumé... and how I didn't get an email from him asking for it because he passed that duty off to a receptionist who, surprise, didn't do it. I didn't catch the name of who had called me in for an appointment (call me at 10am while I'm sacked out and dreaming about being a mercinary, complete with a Bon Jovi soundtrack, and these things happen) and there are twenty-some male agents there, but I think the receptionist figured out who I had my appointment with when I mentioned not getting the memo, causing her to think "okay, who didn't I send an email for again?"

Break for a moment: The above reminds me of a funny story from probably fifteen years ago. Lance from the old 'hood called me, first time in many years, asking for my address because he lost his addressbook. I asked where he got my phone number, and he said it was on a postcard on his desk (of a French soldier at a pissoir on the street in Paris, circa World War I), to which I added, "...which also contains my address." He looked. Yes, indeed, there it was. Lance is like that. Like the time I sent him an email talking about how Dave Gahan from Depeche Mode was putting out his first solo album, and ran down a bunch of details about it, and his reply days later was, "Hey, did you know Dave Gahan's putting out a solo album?"

At this moment I'm listening to the hot-pink MP3 player that I bought from Woot.com two weeks ago and arrived yesterday. $5 for a gigabyte and it's got very good sound quality. The stupidities are numerous (and half are geeky so I'll spare you) but the top two are: #1 - Know how you skip a song on a CD or other music player because you don't want to hear it? You can do that here, but as soon as the song you chose is done, it goes back to the one you skipped and moves forward from there. And even if you didn't skip anything, it jumps back and replays stuff! Funny how you can't put a play-list file of your own on the device, but when it generates one on its own it sticks to it no matter what. #2 - Whomever designed the controls for this should be institutionalized. This has to be one of the only electronic toys I own where reading the pidgin-English manual is actually a necessity due to where they've hidden basic functions and what to push to get to them. Pepto-pink, you ask? That's the color they had, and the reason why they're $5 (okay, along with the fact that the maker got out of the consumer electronics business after being acquired by a car audio/video products maker and deleted all references to the players and support info from their website).

I had an odd confluence last weekend: My bestie Chrome was spending the weekend (and we did get some good conversation in this time) and on Saturday my dear friend Wayne showed up with a couple rather pricy Dave Gahan import records (singles from his second solo album). Odd having two friends who've never met materialize in my home at the same time since, you know, I only have like two friends. I haven't done anything to improve my home in a couple weeks, beside getting a plant shelf from IKEA and some slide-out racks from The Container Store for the kitchen cupboards -- which I can't install until those cabinets get de-shelf-papered and painted, a task my wife has put dibs on but not a start or completion date. Oh, speaking of the import singles, here's a bonus stupidity: One of the records came with a CD of the same eight songs as the record had plus three bonus songs. I played the CD for the first time on my way to Seattle yesterday and it was okay, especially the tenth (exclusive) song. I played the CD on my way back and it died during the tenth song... eject, huge circular gouge made by my car's player for unknown reasons!! No amount of repair tools I have is making this playable, so I've mailed the CD back to Wayne, who works at a used music store so has access to a professional disk buffer.

to Livros e Revistas: Please stop spamming people's blogs. My Portugese is good enough to know the book you're trying to promote is total bullshit.