You Don't Owe Me

Entitlement. I don't have it. Actually, that's not true. I do feel that if I've earned something I am entitled to it, but I don't feel I'm entitled to something special "just because", like some people. And I sure don't expect every day to be wonderful and beautiful and unique - those times are rare, and that's what makes them special.

I was looking through some pictures from last summer's birthday party that B sent to me, and great memories flooded back (interrupted by blackouts caused by the vodka and red bulls that M had kept plying me with). It was one of the best times I've had in my life. It wasn't all that special in general, depending on how you look at it; I didn't see a marching band, or have anyone buy me flowers, or get lucky. In fact, what made it special to me had nothing to do with the reason we were out celebrating that night: recognition that I, personally, was alive.

It was of the best times I've had, and what made it special to me was that whatever the reason, I was out with people that were happy to be spending time with me (and each other) and who didn't want anything in particular from me except to enjoy their company. I've had plenty of days that I thought rated up there, but in retrospect were empty and shallow - specifically because those things weren't in them (even thought I may have thought they were at the time).

Today was nothing special, really, if you only value what other people can do for you. Actually, that's not even true. My boss, who I respect quite a lot, thanked me for doing my job well, which is something I've not heard much before. My co-workers did their job especially well, partly, I'd like to think, because they didn't want to let me down (see previous rant about lack of loyalty in our time, and redact it please). Other co-workers stood up in the face of adversity for no other reason than the fact that they believe in me and trust that what I have to say is accurate, and they didn't have to do that.

So I could end the day looking back and bemoaning the fact that I did nothing else but work and watch a few TV shows before crashing in bed, but instead I choose to reflect on the day and note my accomplishments, the accomplishments of others who were inspired by my honesty and openness, and realize that even though at the end of the day I didn't have time to see a parade, or have sex, or have anyone buy me flowers, I had a beautiful and wonderful and special day.

And I've been having a lot of those lately, with many more to come. These are the days that are obviously special, like the ones to be spent in a hedonistic near-tropical paradise with my closest friend, and the days whose specialness aren't as obvious, like today.

Mazel Tov, special day, I appreciate you as much as you appreciate me.

Don't Trust Whitey

It has come to my attention that I (along with hundreds of other people) am being laid off because the company I work for cancelled my project - TO APPEASE INVESTORS. Let me say that another way: in order to get people to keep buying stocks in the company I work for, the top executives have decided to publically cancel the huge project that so many of us were pouring our sweat and blood into for the SOLE REASON that it would show investors that they are concerned about the economy and cutting costs to stay afloat, nevermind that the company desperately needed the project to remain competitive and efficient, this has nothing to do with that.

OK, here's an idea. How about firing the CEO and the entire board of executives? Together they make MORE money each year than the ENTIRE PROJECT I was on cost. A handful of men, who are each rich as fuck, would be out of work - instead of hundreds of hard working lower white collar workers. They could all say "fuck it" and just retire in luxury, but we all have to scamper to find work in order to pay the mortgage.

So far this month, over 200,000 American workers have been cut loose from their jobs. For the exact same reasons I did - to boost investor confidence. Microsoft laid of 5,000 consultants, one of whom sat two rows over from me until he got the e-mail that he was being let go. Does anyone really believe that Microsoft needs to cut 5,000 jobs to stay afloat? No, they don't. They could absorb millions of dollars worth of losses annually and still survive. They are doing just fine, recession or no.

So in a "me first" mentality where the investors and bankers reign supreme, everyone suffers in the end. People who are out of work don't spend money like they used to (or at all). This means that all businesses across the board will sell fewer products. When they sell fewer products, they have to make fewer products. When they make fewer products, they purchase fewer resources. When they purchase fewer resources, fewer resources will be mined / harvested / fabricated. Everyone along the way suffers financially from lower sales and they lay off employees to stay afloat, contributing to the problem exponentially.

It's a long train and everyone's getting it up the ass.

Unemployed people don't pay taxes either, instead they ask for unemployment benefits. 15 states will be insolvent within the next 6 months, mine being one of them. That means that they DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH MONEY to pay unemployment benefits, so they have to go to the Federal government for handouts to cover it. The Federal government has already given away, what, 1.6 TRILLION dollars in the past few months - where the hell are they going to get the money?

Oh right - they're borrowing it. From our children's futures. The money itself doesn't actually exist, they are quite literally printing it.

All of this mess started because those same executive-type asshats were playing around with credit, lumping really badly underwritten loans in with really profitable ones so that they could sell them to investors. See, there's that word again: investors. That's right, they are the fucking assrapists that started this whole mess, and here we are, appeasing them by firing people who did nothing but show up to work and do their job.

So again, we're back to the CEOs and donkey-fucking board members of these giant conglomerations who are happily swinging the pink axe of job cuts around - once they get back from their 3 martini lunches or golf meetings.

Here's a fun fact: 90% of the executives of the banks that were the first to reeceive bailout money still have their jobs.

I'm going to repeat that using smaller words in case any of them are reading this, I want to make sure they understand.

Nearly all of the overpaid, cheating, lying, and money-grubbing snakesuckers that run the companies that started this entire financial disaster by lying to and cheating their investors have not been fired for their incompetent self-serving manipulation of the system, which ultimately broke it. THEY. STILL. HAVE. THEIR. JOBS.

And these shitballs make so much money it makes Derek Jeter jealous. Firing ONE of those monkey turds would be the equivalent of laying off 250 REALLY HIGHLY PAID white collar workers, or 500 well paid ones.

But we're sitting here on the chopping block to appease investors. Sounds amazing right?

Not when you stop for a minute and think about who's making the call to cut a company's workforce, again, to make investors happy.

It's the CEO. And the Board of Directors.

Look, I'm no Communist, but this is exactly what's wrong with our model of Capitalism. A small board of douchebags making decisions that clearly only benefit them, and indirectly, I suppose, benefit the company by keeping it in business - with no-one to answer to except these mysterious "investors" that move their money around based on rumor and speculation. Maybe it's because I'm an engineer, but I work with cold, hard facts. There's no room for guesswork in what I do, but these fuckwits base all of their decisions on it.

All of this makes me want to direct a board right at the head of the next uncle-fucker in a suit I see.

Corporate Advancement

Here I am, sitting in a virtually empty office while all of the other employees here take advantage of their vacation pay and (presumably) spend their Christmas bonus money. It's really hard for me, in this scenario, not to feel negative about my situation. Unceremoniously dumped by a company in which I invested more than 10 years of my time and hard work earlier this year, I'm now an independent contractor which means that I work for myself, and I can't afford to give myself holiday pay or a Christmas bonus because I'm now working for about 15 percent of my previous salary.

When I was interviewed for this contract, I was assured that it was a "right to hire" and that the initial contract period was merely a formality to ensure that I am what my resume says I am. I was told that I'd be hired full time before Christmas. Instead, they extended my contract (to avoid paying me benefits) and then promptly (and without ever actually notifying me) gave me a promotion (after I agreed to continue at the same rate).

Those same people are all on vacation this week, taking full advantage of their perks and benefits. Those same people mandated that anyone who can't take the time off has to show up in the office this week so that the team can "have a presence". Who are they worried about impressing I have no idea, the only people in the entire building this week are peons and independent contractors - all of the executives are currently in their second week of sunning themseves in Wakiki.

To top it all off, all 6 of my bosses have been on vacation since before last week, and they didn't leave us enough work to last us 2 days. So all I have to do all week (and it's an abbreviated week - the company gave its employees Friday off as a gift, which means that I can't work and will have to lose another day's pay without any choice in the matter) is sit here and feel disgruntled about my position.

There's got to be a better way. I refuse to do this until retirement. I poured my life into my last job, thinking that it would pay off, underestimating man's constant and dependable tendancy to screw over everyone else at the first possible chance. I won't do that again. The next project I invest myself in will be for me, and it's going to be the one that I sell to Microsoft or Google and retire off of.

And while that means that I'll find myself on the same Wakiki beaches as the executives who today I loathe, I'll happily watch them sipping their fruity drinks, knowing that the woman sunning herself next to me in her white bikini is so much hotter and wonderful than their washed up resentful old housewives, and that they may have two weeks off from the ratrace but I found a way to leave it all behind me.

Spilt Milk

I'm sorry, is my friendship inconveniencing you? Is my mere presence in your little corner of the world a constant reminder to you that you have no loyalty, or gratitude for everything I ever did for you? That you are too scared to stand up for what is right, too scared to live your life, too scared to acknowledge right and wrong?

You're the one who supported them as they twisted the knife in my back. Then you helped them clean up the blood spatter after, testifying that they couldn't have done what they did because they were with you. But I was still there for you.

You went back on every promise we ever made to each other, our oath to stick together through thick and through thin, but I upheld my end of the bargain. I fought for you, sacrificed for you, and defended you every chance I got. That's what friends are for.

And now you avoid me and have nothing substantial to say to me, pretending that nothing has changed and nothing is wrong. But I know the truth, I can see it in your eyes. I was your friend, after all, I know when things are bothering you.

It would have hurt less if you had owned your choices, if you had come right out and said that you were choosing cowardice over our friendship. At least then I could have respected you.

I guess it's hard for you. I guess that everything about me is a reminder that you are still miking the cow that I hand-fed and raised. That you are being paid, and paid well, to turn your back on me, to forget what you promised me you would do if this ever happened. You know I would have been true to you if the tables were turned, and maybe that makes it even harder that you weren't.

I'm sorry you have to go through that, and I'm sorry that I served as a weekly reminder of such distasteful things.

I hope you continue to ride the wave, and that you never have to know the destitution and alone-ness that I felt when I was tossed out on the street like yesterday's trash, looking up at those people that I thought were my friends, as you stood behind my enemy and kept silent.

I don't want a reminder of that any more than you do. So enjoy your milk.

Bah

People who say "Bah" instead of "Bye" when they get off the phone with someone should be strung up by their balls and subjected to Chinese water torture using the blood of small rodents.

Women's Room Etiquette

As a follow-up to my post about men's room etiquette, I just wanted to say the following about women's bathrooms. I don't know what the hell you women do in the bathroom, or if you actually do have couches and potpouri and midgets with hand towels to dab off your privates after you pee, and truthfully I don't want to know. In my mind when you go to the bathroom you are making new friends and showing each other your boobs and soaping each other up in the shower and trading secrets about dildos and your man's cock and teaching each other blowjob techniques on giant glass dildos.

So don't tell me what you're doing in there, just keep doing what I imagine you are doing and I'll be in the men's room stall rubbing one out thinking about it, thankyouverymuch.

Men's Room Ettiquette

Gentlemen, let me make one thing unequivocably clear. When I am peeing, I don't want to have a conversation with you. I don't want to say "hi", give you a head nod, discuss the weather or politics or my new shoes, or hear about your day. I most certainly don't want to make eye contact.

There are dividers between urinals for a reason. This isn't a bar and we're not in Europe. Please keep your eyes forward and your mouth closed.

When we're washing hands then minimal conversation is permitted, but even then let's keep it short and simple.

It's not that I'm insecure about my manhood or my sexuality, quite the contrary. I just feel that some things are personal, and taking a piss or dropping a deuce are two that rank very high up on the list. I don't come into your bedroom to chat when you are boning your wife, and I expect you to extend the same courtesy to me when I'm doing my business.

If you want to shoot the shit then hang out in the kitchen. My schedule is as follows: Kitchen for water or coffee - desk - bathroom. Repeat.

While at work: ProTip

Eating raisins and / or prunes as a snack while at the office will likely cause you to be more productive - and not in a way that your boss will appreciate. Especially if he happens to be in the stall next to you.

I'm working, you asshat.

I spent the entire day in my cubicle today, which is actually rare - usually we work in a more collaborative environment here at The Grind (they call it "hotelling", but I call it "hunting for a new place to sit each morning and always carrying your stuff around with you every where you go"). Maybe I was just in a snarky mood, but everyone around me was pissing me right the fuck off all day. Here are a list of my grievances:

• I really do appreciate that you are listening to Cheney Kesney on your headphones, presumably you realize that nobody else wants to hear that shit. But when you turn it up so loud that I can hear it reverberating around your empty head and tap your foot along to the beat loudly, it kind of defeats the purpose of using the headphones in the first place, doesn't it? You may as well strap me down and drip water drop by drop on my forehead until I go crazy and start hallucinating little green men crawling up my arm. A few more days of this and I may just show your earbuds up your nose and strangle you with the cord.Or maybe I'll crank Snoop Dee Oh Double-Gizzle on my computer. Nobody ever thought twice about confronting a country music fan because his music is too loud, but Snoop on the other hand...


• LEARN HOW TO CHANGE YOUR RINGTONE FROM THE DEFAULT "CINGULAR" TONE OR "HELLO FUCKING MOTO" to something that doesn't make me want to throw my desk chair through the window and dive after it. I know 10 year olds that are more technically saavy with regards to coffee makers than you are with regards to your cell phone, which presumably you can't live without since it rings constantly all day - EVEN WHEN YOU ARE IN A MEETING AND LEFT IT ON YOUR DESK. Nobody should have to hear your damn ringtone, no matter what it is, ever, but at least PUT IT ON VIBRATE WHEN YOU ARE AT WORK WITH THE BIG BOYS.


• I get that you are on your feet all day delivering memos and mail and whatnot, and I would imagine that your piggies get a little sore after marching all over the building all day. But first of all, Crocks are not dress casual, they are JUST PLAIN casual. They don't belong in a work environment, even on dress-down Fridays. But more importantly, if your Crocks squeak with every step, have some humility and please make every effort to get run over by a cement mixer on your way to your car tonight after work. You squeaking with every step when your job is to walk around the entire office all day is like me saying every word I type out loud as I type it.


• If you are going to eat chips or anything that crunches louder than oatmeal, DO IT IN THE KITCHEN or learn to eat with your lips sealed. Seriously, that's as disgusting to me as watching a fat lady change her tampon.

Corporate Dress Codes

I started a new job today, working for an insurance company in Hartford. I really kind of feel bad ranting at all about this, because it's a really cool and laid-back company - their dress code is business casual most of the week and free-for-all on Fridays. That's awesome.

But still, what's the deal even with business casual? I am SO much more productive when I am comfortable, and I am comfortable only when I am wearing jeans and a t-shirt (or nothing, but I am willing to concede that we have to have SOME rules). Khakis make me want to puke, and not in a good way, and tucking in a button-down shirt (I REFUSE to wear a polo shirt) is retarded - it puffs out around the waist and makes you look like you are bloating.

I will say, however, that my butt looks REALLY NICE in khakis. So I have that going for me.

Is it Friday yet???

Corporate Stupidity vs. the Free Man

I was out today on the bike with my dad, taking pictures of a stuffed pig at Connecticut hotspots in order to document its trip through our lovely state. We had a great day, and hit a lot of places, striking up some fine conversations mostly centered around what a big tough guy like me was doing carrying around a stuffed animal.

The last scheduled stop for the day was the home office of a cable TV channel that I will not dignify by naming (any publicity is good, and all that) except to say that its name rhymes with "Lesbian", and it is not nearly as much fun as that to watch. When we got there we pulled into a public side street to look for a place to park the bikes so I could snap a shot of the pig in front of the satellite dishes, and were immediately accosted by a security guard. I asked him where would be a good place to park and he responded with "Why?". I explained to him most good-naturedly, and he cut me off saying, "Nope, not allowed." I looked at him, asked "Seriously?" (I used my sarcastic voice here), and he replied "Company rules, no photography, you'll have to turn around and leave the premises."

First of all, I wasn't on the premises, it was a public road. Secondly, it's a stupid cable network, not the White House. Thirdly, if I hadn't been so tired from my long day, I would have found out exactly what he would have done if I had stood on public property and took pictures from there. What, does he have jurisdiction in the public streets? Does he have jurisdiction over preventing me from putting my boot up his ass? I'd guess "no" on both counts.

If I hadn't been so tired I might have come up with, "Seriously? What are you an airport now?" instead of just "Seriously". And maybe instead of just riding away I might have said something like "Excellent customer service - way to treat a fan. I'll be sure never to tune in again. Asshat."

What really pisses me off is that the entire episode was fucking ridiculous. Ludicrous even. Corporate stupidity at its best. You know what? You want to make stupid corporate rules and hire some dipshit to enforce them, go right ahead. But here I am, a free man, enjoying my summer vacation on public property, and you have the balls to try to leverage your corporate stupidity on me? Fuck off, stupid cable network, fuck right the fuck off.