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Thursday, February 24, 2005
WERK
Yesterday I was sitting here working, minding my own business, when the phone rang. It was such-and-such, from such-and-such consulting firm, calling regarding the application I had sent for a position with such-and-such. Without any real discourse, this dude more or less launched into a phone interview. I guess it went OK, but I wasn't really prepared, especially since it took me awhile to even remember what the job was/what the company did. At the end, he said he would have another guy call me. Today. Between 8 and 9. Which means between 7 and 8 my time. So I went to bed early last night, but couldn't sleep, and ended up roaming around the house looking for snacks until about 2:30 (didn't find any), then finally went to bed and got to sleep somewhere around 3, got up at 6:30, and now I'm sitting here waiting for some dude to call, so he can ask me all the same stupid questions.
The job is with an ecological consulting company sort of thing. They do restoration planning, open space planning, wetland surveys, etc. - they even have a few native plant nurseries, here and there. So the job is for a GIS'er/ecologist...kind of a perfect match for my experience, and much more appealing than parcel mapping (yech).
So now for the downside...It's in Kansas City. There are few places I dislike more than Kansas City (Lincoln, NE, Denver, CO, and St. Joseph, MO being some of those). If you threw a dart at the map of the world, assuming it didn't hit water (or maybe even if it did), it's almost certain I'd rather live there than in KC. Plus, the place appears to be right downtown. Which would mean an awful commute, or living in an itty house smashed in amongst tons of other people who hate being cramped in amongst tons of other people in itty houses. I'm getting claustrophobic just thinking about it...
SO...I don't give 2 rips if I get offered the job. Maybe if I could work from home...
UPDATE...
It's now 8:05 and that dork-on still hasn't called. I'ma take my shower, and start working. If they want to make me into a slave to the man, it's going to take years of imprisoning me in a tiny cubicle for hours on end; I'm not giving up this easily...
-m
Yesterday I was sitting here working, minding my own business, when the phone rang. It was such-and-such, from such-and-such consulting firm, calling regarding the application I had sent for a position with such-and-such. Without any real discourse, this dude more or less launched into a phone interview. I guess it went OK, but I wasn't really prepared, especially since it took me awhile to even remember what the job was/what the company did. At the end, he said he would have another guy call me. Today. Between 8 and 9. Which means between 7 and 8 my time. So I went to bed early last night, but couldn't sleep, and ended up roaming around the house looking for snacks until about 2:30 (didn't find any), then finally went to bed and got to sleep somewhere around 3, got up at 6:30, and now I'm sitting here waiting for some dude to call, so he can ask me all the same stupid questions.
The job is with an ecological consulting company sort of thing. They do restoration planning, open space planning, wetland surveys, etc. - they even have a few native plant nurseries, here and there. So the job is for a GIS'er/ecologist...kind of a perfect match for my experience, and much more appealing than parcel mapping (yech).
So now for the downside...It's in Kansas City. There are few places I dislike more than Kansas City (Lincoln, NE, Denver, CO, and St. Joseph, MO being some of those). If you threw a dart at the map of the world, assuming it didn't hit water (or maybe even if it did), it's almost certain I'd rather live there than in KC. Plus, the place appears to be right downtown. Which would mean an awful commute, or living in an itty house smashed in amongst tons of other people who hate being cramped in amongst tons of other people in itty houses. I'm getting claustrophobic just thinking about it...
SO...I don't give 2 rips if I get offered the job. Maybe if I could work from home...
UPDATE...
It's now 8:05 and that dork-on still hasn't called. I'ma take my shower, and start working. If they want to make me into a slave to the man, it's going to take years of imprisoning me in a tiny cubicle for hours on end; I'm not giving up this easily...
-m
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
OTHER DRINKS TO DO MATH BY...
That would make a good album title...
You can make a "Methods Section Old-Fashioned" by simply adding a sugar cube to the recipe given previously for a plain old "Methods Section."
Thought you should know...
-m
That would make a good album title...
You can make a "Methods Section Old-Fashioned" by simply adding a sugar cube to the recipe given previously for a plain old "Methods Section."
Thought you should know...
-m
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
FINGER ROCK
I have a rock in my finger. It might not be a rock, but it feels like one. It might be a rock. It's in my fingerpit. You know, the armpit of my finger. Crease. That's another word that might work. I don't know when it got there. I only know that my finger (it's my left flipper finger) has been hurting for awhile when I try to lift heavy stuff with it. Maybe a year or something. And then last week I notice this rock lodged in it. Jen thinks it might be a piece of bone that got chipped off a long time ago, and it finally worked it's way into my fingerpit. I can kinda move it around. I was thinking I should squeeze it up my arm, work it up my chest, and spit it out. Or just cut it out. It's right there...how hard could it be? Nothing important in your fingers anyway...far from your heart and brain..
Stupid finger rock.
-m
I have a rock in my finger. It might not be a rock, but it feels like one. It might be a rock. It's in my fingerpit. You know, the armpit of my finger. Crease. That's another word that might work. I don't know when it got there. I only know that my finger (it's my left flipper finger) has been hurting for awhile when I try to lift heavy stuff with it. Maybe a year or something. And then last week I notice this rock lodged in it. Jen thinks it might be a piece of bone that got chipped off a long time ago, and it finally worked it's way into my fingerpit. I can kinda move it around. I was thinking I should squeeze it up my arm, work it up my chest, and spit it out. Or just cut it out. It's right there...how hard could it be? Nothing important in your fingers anyway...far from your heart and brain..
Stupid finger rock.
-m
Monday, February 21, 2005
MOCKTAILS...
I was thinking I would implement this strategy whereby for every paragraph of my thesis I completed (or perhaps for every page), I would allow myself one cocktail. But since this would probably result in the final section of my thesis comprising a short story about a blind, six-legged elephant named "Toledo," I decided against it. I've been delving into the medical/econometrics/international relations literature searching out obscure rules and techniques in logistic regression. In short, I can't afford the decrease of mental horsepower even a single beer would cause me, so I'm staying away from the sauce, mostly. Today I fixed myself a non-alcoholic beverage which consisted of this: ginger ale and a lime wedge. I call it a "Methods Section." It reminded me some of a gin & tonic. Gin & tonics remind me of my one trip to Idaho. I don't know why we bought ginger ale. It was sort of an impulse buy that we decided to make about 2 weeks before we actually made it. I can't really explain that, except that we were on our way back from Nebraska, and it was hot and dry in the car, and I suddenly wished I was in the kind of store that sold ice-cold ginger ale, so I could buy some. Prior to the ginger ale-based beverage I made today, the one and only time I ever had ginger ale was about 13 years ago, and I didn't like it that time.
-m
I was thinking I would implement this strategy whereby for every paragraph of my thesis I completed (or perhaps for every page), I would allow myself one cocktail. But since this would probably result in the final section of my thesis comprising a short story about a blind, six-legged elephant named "Toledo," I decided against it. I've been delving into the medical/econometrics/international relations literature searching out obscure rules and techniques in logistic regression. In short, I can't afford the decrease of mental horsepower even a single beer would cause me, so I'm staying away from the sauce, mostly. Today I fixed myself a non-alcoholic beverage which consisted of this: ginger ale and a lime wedge. I call it a "Methods Section." It reminded me some of a gin & tonic. Gin & tonics remind me of my one trip to Idaho. I don't know why we bought ginger ale. It was sort of an impulse buy that we decided to make about 2 weeks before we actually made it. I can't really explain that, except that we were on our way back from Nebraska, and it was hot and dry in the car, and I suddenly wished I was in the kind of store that sold ice-cold ginger ale, so I could buy some. Prior to the ginger ale-based beverage I made today, the one and only time I ever had ginger ale was about 13 years ago, and I didn't like it that time.
-m
I AM NAPOLEON
I think Napoleon Dynamite is one of those movies that seems better in retrospect than it does when you actually watch it...
So, according to the quiz, of characters in the movie, I am most like Napoleon Dynamite.
"You are Napoleon Dyanamite and a buttload of gangs
are trying to recruit you."
-m
I think Napoleon Dynamite is one of those movies that seems better in retrospect than it does when you actually watch it...
So, according to the quiz, of characters in the movie, I am most like Napoleon Dynamite.
"You are Napoleon Dyanamite and a buttload of gangs
are trying to recruit you."
-m
Sunday, February 20, 2005
SONGS
When I woke up this morning, I wanted to listen to, in this order, Bloomington, by Old 97's, The Man Who Sold the World, by David Bowie, and Istanbul (Not Contantinople), originally recorded by The Four Lads, as performed by They Might Be Giants.
So I did. Thanks Rhapsody. The innernet rawks.
-m
When I woke up this morning, I wanted to listen to, in this order, Bloomington, by Old 97's, The Man Who Sold the World, by David Bowie, and Istanbul (Not Contantinople), originally recorded by The Four Lads, as performed by They Might Be Giants.
So I did. Thanks Rhapsody. The innernet rawks.
-m
