Boo hoo

Mortgages stifle my creativity. I know I am not in the right job; so why don't I look for something that suits me? In the midst of a merger, my coworker Scott and I were both faced with a decision: do we stay in the newborn New Hire Concierge department or return to Mergers and Acquisitions? Ruling in favor of self-preservation is difficult. Which group will weather Bank of America's storm? But, as Scott pointed out, we should instead be looking for jobs elsewhere or within Bank of America, since as of July 1 any job open to BOA employees is available to Countrywide employees wanting to transfer. But I don't think any job at Countrywide or Bank of America will fulfill my dreams. Fulfilling my dreams is up to me.

My Hell

OK, so my blog has come to this: a rant about the toxic work environment I endure. At the very least this will get me writing something in it every day. For a split second, I thought about changing the names to protect the innocent. Then I asked myself, "What innocent?", and since my intent is not to libel or slander anyone, I will report only the facts and how people feel about those facts.

Some background:
Scott and I love my (now former) boss, Karen, and we were ripped away from her a few weeks ago against my, his, and her wishes to help with a pilot program. The pilot entails Scott and I calling and fielding calls to and from new sales employees (mortgage brokers or Home Loan Consultants or HLCs, as I will refer to them from now on in my post) to guide these folks through the first month of employment. Some people use the cutesy phrase "hand holding", but I'd say "ass wiping" is the more appropriate tag. We're basically the HLC's bitches. Yeah, I just called myself a bitch, bitch. The worst part? This is human relations. And I, like everyone else in my department, am a walking HR violation. The only human relations I enjoy are on a bed.

People for a better Super Bowl

As you all know by now, my New York Giants, the little team with big D made it all the way, baby. So the Bowl is much more appetizing to me already and to top it off we got Tom Petty this year. With Prince in '07 and Petty in '08 half time has never sounded better; if only the presidential candidates were so appealing. Because despite your political leaning, if you can't get behind Tommy P and the Heartbreakers, you don't deserve ears. So I'll make this easy on your eyes, I'm going to list things I don't wanna see and things I do when it comes to commercials this year. And if all else fails I suppose I'll have to make my own commercials in '09.

The Infinite Internet

The Infinite Internet
What is this place
where I waste all my time?
Myspace is the decline
of western civilization...
...Amazing and graceless.
Why are 17 year olds so hot?
Maybe because they're halfway to 34, while I'm halfway to 50.
The internet overflows with useless information,
news of dead celebrities and
naked nobodies.
we're so in touch, we're out of touch
with reality.
It's easier to email than to call.
From America Online to wi-fi,
say goodbye to books, handwritten letters, yellowed newspapers and even TV.
So add the video to my digital diary, so I don't even have to type my thoughts up,
and I'll talk in codes, slang and short hand so you'll understand and see everything clearly,
under the influence of the internet; a LCD on LSD.

It's that time of year again; January spells self doubt

So another year closer to middle age and still no mate. Sure, there's a girl who gave my heart a fluttering and my heart is hers, but she doesn't want it. I search the strange pages of phrases and flesh, knowing I'll never find another you. I think I want to get away again. I think I want to be on wanted posters, at least then there'd be a reward. Perhaps I'll drift endlessly and die alone.

So back into it, some ideas

Turn signals! You know that little arm protruding from the left side of your steering wheel? Well, in addition to controlling the lights, high-beams, and sometimes the windshield wipers (depending on the make of your vehicle) it also functions as a turn signal indicator so other drivers can have an inkling of whether you’re turning or changing lanes. Simply flick the arm up to signal a right turn or lane change or push the arm down to register your intentions to proceed left. More online driving lessons to come; you’ll have your myblogservations driver’s license in no time! Hope you don’t mind my mug shot on it.

Great band, bad crowd. An amiga of mine, we’ll call her Amanda, because, well, that’s her real name invited me to see Spoon prove that despite their goofy name they are serious about rocking. And they played such an intimate set you forgot you were at the very cold and distant venue, the House of Blues. Some fans, on the other hand, would have been more at home at a Napalm Death concert. Amanda slinked through the crowd to get a better view, because though she’s not short, she didn’t start on her high school basketball team either. A rather tall, lanky, goofy dude became quite perturbed at her humble relocation and told her “I’ll slap the perm outta your head” and “how dare you bring a black guy to this concert?” Apparently our pal missed the all black security staff on the way in. A leggy, attractive blonde identified herself as his sister and giggled “that’s my brother; he’s crazy” when Amanda appealed to her with wide, rolling eyes. Meanwhile I was fighting my way back to my seat in the balcony amid the dirty “drop dead” looks of half a row that wouldn’t budge as I fumbled by. Normally, I avoid stepping on toes, but this night I had no choice. On my way to the bathroom nearing the end of the show a petite yet leggy and pretty blonde smashed shoulders with me like a linebacker and just kept on walking and talking to her pretty friend. Whether she was any relation to the crazy racist and sis downstairs I’ll never know. Fortunately the extended performance was worth the abuse.

Maybe I’ve belabored this point, but I’ll drum the protest up again, hydrogenated oils should have no place in any pantry. For the ignorant, it’s not an issue of choice: a triple bacon burger over a salad is a choice, hydrogenated oils are cheap fillers that manufacturers with no concern for their customer’s health inject into processed food, yet they make the choice for you and it’s a low quality selection. Even worse some products marketed as healthy contain trans fats and/or high fructose corn syrup such as high fiber cereals, Nutri-Grain bars, and whole wheat breads. It makes me cringe to see products featuring the deadly duo: hydrogenated oil and high fructose corn syrup; why should we have to live in fear of our food? Why should we have to read labels? Why should we be fed inferior food? Want to do something about it? Visit http://www.bantransfats.com/.

Virgina Tech Massacre/ Undercover medical ads

I’m back, for now, and I only have a few things to say about the Virginia Tech tragedy: “it’s contradictory that the same people against gun control are pro-life. Everything else has already been said and since Anna Niccole is no longer soaking up our short attentions the hours of VA Tech massacre coverage will be tattooed to our minds. No need to mention that yes, I did write a blog about the Anna Niccole Smith shebang, it was tongue in cheek, I suppose now my foot’s in my mouth. But what if we lived in a country where the VA Tech massacre was a daily occurence? Such places exist.

Here’s a disturbing blogservation: your sitting in the cherished waiting room of your favorite (or least favorite) Doc’s office when you notice an advertisement. The kicker is it seemingly has nothing to do with the services provided here, or so you think. In my case I was reading, minding my business waiting for my sister to emerge from the orthodontist’s torture chamber when a voice from above sings the praises of microdermabrasion procedures (repairing skin). Intermittently for the next two hours the droning continued. I blocked it out, but wasn’t able to block the question “what does this have to do with oral surgery?” from my mind. Apparently parents can enjoy the attached and affiliated spa while their little monsters get their braces installed, tightened and/or removed. Is it any wonder appointments last so long? Just put signs up pointing the direction to the spa and leave us alone. Between the ad loop and the yapping cell phone head next to me, I’ll spend the next visit in the car or on the benches outside.