Bullshit Manifesto

So, I posted about the new job and got a comment about the politics of the new boss. Rather than write a lengthy reply in the comments, I opted to make a post about it.

I used to work for the Boy Scouts of America. While there I came across a fax that was to be sent upstairs to the brass with regards to the official stance of the BSA pertaining to homosexuality. Until I read that fax it was my understanding that the organization had nothing to do with what you did in the bedroom, so to associate any of these nocturnal tendencies with the organization wouldn’t be tolerated. While I understand that the carrying out of such a policy equally is not likely, the spirit of what it stood for is something that I agreed with. What the BSA had to offer, and the very spirit of the Oath and Law, have nothing to do with where you put your penis. Then I read this fax.

The BSA believes that homosexuality is immoral, so to be a homosexual goes against the fundamentals of Scouting. I was disgusted. I know the Oath and Law like the back of my hand, have friends from Scouting that are gay/bi/whatever, and believe in the fundamentals that they have seemingly redefined without actually changing the wording. What was really happening was that the Christian big wigs didn’t want any gays in their group, and they were imposing the ideals of those beliefs on all of the BSA’s members, past and present.

My new employer, on the other hand, has a founder that may share similar or parallel views, but these beliefs are not transfered to the members of the service, or the employees of the service. The service is not offered to homosexuals, but then his expertise is not in homosexual relationships. I understand how one might argue that he might be excluding homosexuals because of personal beliefs, but if you are a relationship expert in heterosexual relationships and I were a homosexual male in a relationship, I wouldn’t ask you for help, and wouldn’t expect you to offer it to me.

I don’t agree with the politics of most of the people I have worked for. I once worked for a company owned, and primarily employed, by members of a certain “religious” group who will go unnamed, in the off chance that they flag my site and put me on some sort of extermination list. Yes, that group. I lasted a week there. At least eHarmony is up front about all of it, and doesn’t shove their politics down your throat. We’ll see. I haven’t come across anyone that has had any real gripes about the work, except that there is always tons of it. I’m still all about the overtime, which I’m told I should be putting in about 10 hours of it a week. That’s phat loot, and I am not all that picky about who is supplying said loot.

is pretty fucking late to work when you are staring at a computer screen. My eyes feel like they are drying out to the point that blinking might rip my corneas out. All this, and it’s only 11pm. Thank God I’m going to be working days. 7am – 4pm, but that’s totally okay by me.

Several years ago, when I was still following the practices of the catholic church, I gave up meat for Lent. It was a few days until Easter when my boy Brett and I ran in to an old friend from high school. Brett and I were at the local liquor store picking up a case of beer for the evening when we ran in to her. This wasn’t just a typical old friend, this was one of those attractive girls that you had the hots for that just always seemed to be in the friend category. You know what I mean. Anyhow, we were walking out of the store, case of beer in hand, when we saw her and chatted a bit. One little bit of that conversation changed my life for several years.

“Have you lost weight?”

“I guess so. I gave up meat for a while.”

“Because you look good.”

That emphasis on “good” caused me to extend my sacrifice of meat far beyond the 40 days of Lent. Several years, in fact. After Lent was over the rule had to be clearly defined. I tried saying no to red meat, but then that would still allow for pork which I wanted to cut back on as well. I couldn’t only say pork and beef, because I was going to mongolian BBQ pretty frequently in those days and would simply opt to eat lamb, as that technically wouldn’t break my rule. In the end the rule stood as No Mammals. Simple, straight forward, and as exclusive as I wished to be. I’d eat fish, poultry, and reptiles. Not that I actually ate reptiles, but I was still holding out to eat rattlesnake, frog legs, and any other random cultural reptiles that were in store.

Then, many moons later, I came across a certain Argentine cutie whose family serves a good deal of meat. She didn’t ask me to eat it, but the desire to please her family was strong enough that I gave up my rule of no mammals. I ate a fair amount of beef. I ate even more pork. It was during this time that I also quit smoking, so I put on even more weight from that. Having been off the smokes for almost 2 years now, and with her family back in Argentina for the most part, I have decided that I am going back on the No Mammals diet to lose some weight, and clean the system a bit. I’m watching what I eat, of course, but this one dietary exclusion lost me about 15 pounds before, so I’m hoping for similar results.

I’d been criticized for this choice in the past, what with my being a smoker who worried about eating meat. Now that I don’t smoke, there’s not much anyone can say.

At any rate, I still plan to grub me some fish and some birds. Sometimes in the same sitting.

I don’t know that I officially stated whay my previous job was. I eluded to it, but never actually put it out there. I used to work for the Boy Scouts of America. I couldn’t stand the politics, the pay, or some of the higher up mucky-mucks. Anyhow, I officially start this monday at EHarmony. It’s a customer service gig, primarily answering emails, taking some phone calls, and solving problems. The atmosphere was pretty laid back. Their office is in Pasadena, which is much better than the interview I had in West LA.

I’m optimistic. I used to work for Earthlink, where there were 120 or so in Sales alone. This company has 120 in total. We’ll see. They are already talking about overtime, which I have no problem with at all. Time and a half is the bomb, yo.

When Milca and I started going out I noticed a sign on a pole as we got closer to her house. This sign is at the top of a hill, as ou’re coming down the other side of the hill, and the sign said, “5 Dead This Year, Slow Down.” I thought, shit, I better slow down!!. Good safety tip, of course, but it’s not your standard road sign, you know? This was more than two yeard ago… so the questions start.

If this sign is up longer than a year, than it means that at some point more people are dying. It doesn’t say, “5 people per year,” it’s “this.” This negates the possibilty of an average, this is a total count. There are two theories on the table to date.

1) Every 73 days or so, a ritual sacrifice is done on the road.

2) An annual sacrifice of 5 people is done on New Years day.

Either case is slightly diturbing, hence the sign is disturbing. Every day as I drive home, it’s disturbing.

I recieved a fair amount of congratulations before, during, and after the wedding. from all the familiar faces, of course, and those random acquaintances that succumb to the need to be polite and offer cogratulations, but then there have also been some folks that have come out of the wood work to offer their well wishes.

On the day of the wedding I recieved a gift from one such person from my past, who had the audacity to call me a friend in the card she wrote me. This act was audacious because the lat interaction we had was when she was telling off my answering machine, questioning actions of mine that she had no first hand knowledge about, and told me that we were not friends anymore, and that she doubted that I ever was her friend. You see the audacity here, yes? While I am a fan of audacity, and I’m sometimes their Mayor, this went a bit too far for me.

While we were on our honeymoon Milca got two calls from ex-boyfriends, who had called to say happy birthday, which we celebrated on the island, but then offered their congrats once learning that we were on our honeymoon. No biggie, just kinda funny that they’d call on the same day, and while we were on our honeymoon.

Then I got an email from that one. You know, the one that really boiled your insides. The one that you had fantasies of telling off, or snubbing, etc. The first one. She wrote me, saying that she was looking for someone with fencing for a schol project. She mentioned this project once, didn’t ask me to fence, and didn’t ask if anyone I knew fenced. So that was pretty much a way to explain why she looked for me, how she found this blog, and why she emailed me. It may be true, but I just don’t know. Even if you casually looked up my name in google you’d find me on the first try, so finding me wouldn’t be all that difficult. Whatever the case, she emailed me, offered her congratulations, threw some subtle barbs my way, and that was that.

I toiled over the response most of the day. I’d often thought of going to her last known place of employment, or seeing her at a reunion, or running into her on the street, or going to her old internet stomping ground and emailing her, just to tell her off, insult her, yell, bicker, etc. I often thought how good it might make me feel to get this hate off of my chest. The fact of the matter is that this hate wasn’t on my chest, but my shoulders, weighing me down. I couldn’t say her name aloud, it was so bad. I had to come up with a clever dorky nickname for her so I wouldn’t have to hear or say her name aloud (I’d apprecciate this name, and her real name, not being used in comments on this post, if you please). This was all way too much negative energy for me to carry around, so I thought that this email was my perfect opportunity to get it all out.

While typing the email, I realized what I previously said, that it was on my shoulders, and not in my chest. I didn’t have to get it out, I had to let it go. Along with all the negative thoughts and feelings that I had accumulated toiling over this all these years were thoughts of understanding, remorse, and a fair amount of compassion. I can’t say that I condone her actions, or that I would have done the same thing, but I can’t help but understand how she might have done these things, feeling the way she did. It was just so much easier to forgive than to revenge.

I wrote the email, sent it, and that’s that. I don’t know that she’ll reply, and if she doesn’t, I’ll understand. She may feel some bitterness that she can’t help but throw my way, and that, too, I’d understand. I hope, however, that she will see the opportunity for grace, and seize it.

Cheers.

We return from paradise only to find that the weather we were getting used to is certainly not the weather everyone at home was having. The week went exceptionally well, with hiking, eating, walking, shopping, talking, and just enjoying each other’s company. I don’t know that we had ever spent that much time with each other exclusively, 24 hours a day, so it was a new, rewarding experience.

The place we stayed in was in the farm land in northern Kauai. Long ago, the Philipino peoples brought roosters to the island for cock-fighting. A hurricance hit, which scattered the birds throughout the island, so now they run wild everywhere. This isn’t an exaggeration. Everywhere. As we were in the farm lands, they were especially present there, so every morning at around 6am they started crowing. Every 15 seconds or so. All day. Without fail. Needless to say, the cock jokes ran rampant all week, and still haven’t subsided.

When we fist walked in to our new temporary home, we loved the place. The windows had screens, but no window panes, allowing the ever present breeze to come through easily. One of the first things we had noticed upon an investigation of the place was that the door that goes out to the back deck, which is located in the bathroom, had a cat door. The bathroom also had a kitty bed, a food bowl, a water bowl, and a tupperware container with cat food. Lo and behold, two cats came in to the house. They had no collars, so we named them ourselves. Whe white crosseyed cat was named Mango, and the black furry cat was named Shack. the name of the place we stayed in was the Mango Shack, hence the names. Most of the people on the island took in stray cats, so they were almost as poplulated as the roosters. We came across two little kittens on one of our hikes, near the shore, which totally blew us away.

There is so much that happened, from hiking down into a huge canyon, to eating an awesome meal that was a gift to us from my Uncle and Aunt. It was an awesome time, an awesome atmosphere, and was easily one of the best weeks of my life.

Sadly, Milca got food poisoning near the end of the trip, so our last day was spent relaxing at home, and she is just now getting better to the point where she can eat food. Now that she’s better, I am able to focus my time on getting a new job. Here’s hoping.

So, as it turns out, I had received false info when I said that p’rick‘s prick was a resting place for one of the stones. At any rate, he’s out of the hospital, at home, passed a couple stones, in less pain, and is able to smoke cigarettes again, which I am sure he appreciates.

At the very least he’ll have some nifty pain drugs for a while. My words of wisdom on pain meds, refill your subscription, even, and especially, if you don’t need them. Come to think of it, do that for antibiotics, too. Never know when those can come in handy.

Get well, p’rick!!

My boy p’rick is in the hospital right now with kidney stones. One in each kidney, and a third on it’s way out of his johnson. I can only imagine what he’s going through right now. I plan to visit him tomorrow after work, as that’s the only time I won’t be at work while visiting hours are available. This guy doesn’t deserve the pain he’s recieving now, but then it’s been my experience that people rarely get what they deserve. So, if all of you could concentrate your happy thoughts, prayers, well-wishes, and general mojo and send it his way.

Then, once the pain no longer prevents it, he might need someone to kiss it and make it better. I’m sure he would appreciate that.

First let’s just get one thing straight. I know that I should have already seen these movies. I’ve already heard it, and even though I am making this disclaimer from the beginning I will still likely hear the “Oh my God” comments, which will fall upon deaf ears having heard them so many times before. I hadn’t seen Blade Runner (not for lack of trying)nor Flashdance.

Blade Runner had been put upon such a high pedestal that I was bound to be disappointed. I mean, it’s Ridley Scott. Alien was good and all, but his other films have this glossed over feel that make each movie feel less believable. It was this glossy finish that was my only real complaint. I suppose a bit more character development for Edward James Olmos’s character would have been nice, but overall that movie was pretty fucking good. Rutger Hauer is one creepy sum-bitch.

Flashdance was brilliant. It was horrible, don’t get me wrong, but it is the quintessential 80’s movie. The fashion trends, the music, the attitudes, everything just wreaked of the 80’s. I don’t know that I’d ever watch it again on purpose, but I wouldn’t change the channel if I ran across it on cable.