Monday, November 2, 2009

Funny Law School Things...

Law School is pretty damn funny sometimes. Ask anyone. Well any law student that is. I'm getting close to finishing my first year, so I thought I'd take some time to expound upon some of the funny shit that I've come across so far. Of course, as my normal disclaimer goes, you may not think it's funny, but fuck off, because I do. It's my blog. And we're walking....

Ok, so from the get go- like literally the very day I moved into my apartment- I was told that the kids here at Dayton were uber competitive and there had been some issues with people stealing papers and books and reserving rooms in the library for indefinite time periods...blah blah blah. At first the competitive stuff was non-existent, but I'll get to that later.

The library room thing is totally true and totally pisses me off. But then again I don't study much in the library because it's like fucking social hour and you can't even hear yourself think. All summer it was just my class. We were quiet, courteous, and downright helpful. Then the rest of the law school came back and all hell broke lose. I'm not saying my class is perfect, but shit people, aren't libraries like universally known for being quiet? I'm gonna say yes, because MTV says yes also. (Haven't you all seen silent library?) --->

I actually wouldn't mind putting this one certain kid on a spit rod and shoving an apple in his mouth. At least he'd be quiet for fivve freaking minutes. There is seriously no way this kid gets any work done. (I'd post a photo, but even if I went for something close to represent him- we'd all know who he is.) So, "Chuckles" always seems to sit a table away from me. Maybe I just always seem to sit a table away from him, but I've been here longer, so senority counts! After he empties his backpack/bookbag (whatever you want to call it, please don't comment how I don't say the right thing, because I'm over it) and makes a flippin' scene dropping shit and busting out laughing, he finally composes himself enough to 'adjust himself' *again* and sits down. I think guy must be the life of the party because as soon as he sits down the laughing starts. He's throwing paper at girls across the table. Writing in the margins of their books, etc. I want to smack him. The other day I was sitting down working on Contracts when the "hushed" laughter morphs into a full-on loud ass laughter that makes even those with headphones look up. You'd think that'd be enough. Ok assclown, you've made even those people whose music is so loud I can groove to it from across the room, look up from their books. That's enough. Oh no, it's not enough. Chuckles and his crew put their heads down and try to stifle the sound but to no avail. I guess they thought that they made a valiant effort, and that's all that was expected of them for one day, because they just kept going. So I do the only mature thing I know how to do- I take out my headphones and turn around in my seat and give that fucker the stink eye. This wasn't just your average stink eye- this is the death-stare-stink-eye. The kind of stink eye that you take home with you, and while cowering under your covers clutching your teddy bear, you wonder if your life is a stake. He immediately shut up and began packing up his shit. I doubt it was really because of me alone. I'm sure the weight of the other 50+ eyes in the room gave him a pretty clear indication that he was not wanted. Anyways, I thought that was pretty darn cool.

Ok so onto the competitive bullshit. It really wasn't that big of a deal until grades came out. The week after grades are issued is hilarious. I personally don't ask how others did. I don't care, I genuinely hope everyone does well and is happy- maybe that doesn't bode well for job placement, but still, I'm a nice person. Maybe I'll change my mind, but as long I am happy with how I did, then that's all that matters. I guess there might be some tactful way to ask someone how they did.... actually unless they're close friends and you're genuinely concerned, there is not tactful way. Grades are private. The end. SO... we go the entire summer playing nice and having a good time. No shitty attitudes or anything, like I was warned about. Then the night we got our grades it was like a junior high dance with al the awkward kids on opposite sides of the room wondering who was going to make the first move and ask someone to dance to get the ball rolling. Well somone broke the ice and i'm not kidding, within minutes of hearing the news that our grades were online, I got four text messages asking how I did. Of those, two I know were from good friends, genuinely asking without any malice. I didn't answer any of them, because again it's not a big deal. But it was just funny that I got texts from people I didn't even talk to. I got to school Monday morning, or whatever day it was, and people weren't saying much. I thought, "Ok cool. That's nice that people are just being cool about it and not trying to figure out everyone's ranking and stuff. These are cool, calm, folks." Annnnnd.... welcome to Day Two- person X asks person Y (not ME), "So, you can tell me if you did worse than me. It's not a big deal." Seriously..... then there comments to the effect of, "I did really well, I figured I did, so I'm just glad I thought right." Good for you. Really, good for you. *salt on wound* That wasn't as bad as stuff like, "I'm definitely going to work on ____ because I want to make sure I do better than you next semester" or "Did you hear about ____, they did terrible. I doubt they even studied." Seriously people? In the words of Stefanie Tanner, how rude! I just wanted to know where my cool people went. And to be fair, it was only about 6-7 people who were saying comments like this. The majority- or the people with enough sense to not ask about something as private as grades- kept their mouths shut. I think asking people about grades is equivalent to asking someone how their yearly physical went. "No I don't know what it's like to turn my head and cough, can you explain that to me?"

Ok so my Crim Pro class is the perfect example of competitive bullshit. All in all, the class is interesting and I like the professor. However I refer to my 9:30-10:20's on TWTH as a "pissing match" because no one is nice in there. There are shitty comments flying all over the place. I have yet to raise my hand in there because I'm scared someone is going to talk down to me like a five year old. There are about 8-10 people who do the majority of the talking. When someone says something, you can bet your life there is someone else waiting to interject and tell them they're way off base or they don't agree because of ____. There's one guy, who I'll refer to as the "guy who talks out of the side of his mouth".... not figuratively- he literally talks out of the side of his mouth. He always talks in this drawn out tone like he being bothered, but "simply must object because it is obvious that this case clearly outlines the reasons the fourth amendment was so important....anyone can see that the conduct of ____ was completely a violation of this guy's rights. I mean are we really going to use that statement as a valid argument? It's say very plainly on page 235 that the law safeguards......"......snoooorrreeeee. *Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*
Here's another example- a couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in class trying to ignore my bleeding ears when a girl made a comment about internet usage and privacy. Her statement was entirely valid, it was not stupid or off-topic, but this guy sitting two seats over from me blurts out in the middle of her sentence, some snide remark and then scoffs like she was a complete peon for having the gaul to even address the class. Well on top of his interruption, I don't know what happened to me, but I've got an issue with word vomit- I can't control it, and I just look at him and say, "You're an asshole. Everyone in this class is fucking rude. I can't believe the way people talk to each other in here. Fucking ridiculous!" I don't know how loud it was, but I got a few bouts of laughter from the back row. Honestly though, what gives you the right to interrupt someone? This is a class, not court (behavior like that wouldn't fly in court either, bub). No one is impressed by your voice, although you seem to be. Fuckhat.... haven't you heard of Robert's Rules of Order or whatever? I know I interrupted his comment, but I'm not taking that back. That kid was rude..... more rude than I was.

Another funny thing about law school is the overused words. People seem to use the same words over and over again. I do it too and everytime I say "essentially" or "going off of what ___ said" or "piggyback". (What the hell is a piggyback anyway?) I want to smack myself. I bet if I counted how many times "essentially" was said during one week I'd be exhausted. I'm making fun of myself here too, so back off if you think I'm pointing to anyone person. "Essentially" is a great word. I just feel that people think it gives them standing or makes them seem smarter just by its mere utterance. "Essentially, the court held....." Well yes, I can read. It says right there, "the court held that the defendant violated the statute." My favorite use of "essentially" occurs when someone tries to discuss a case that they totally didn't read. It usually goes something like this:

Prof: Ok, insert name, what do you think about the agreement in this case? Was it a contract and was it enforceable?
Student: Um... well.... *flipping pages* This was a case about a promise.... involved a wholesaler and a person who buys wheat. And essentially the contract was to buy wheat from the wholesaler, but the wholesaler didn't give the wheat to buyer, essentially the court held that there was a contract.
Prof: yes, I can read, and I actually read this case several times. You still haven't told me if there was an enforceable contract...was there?
Student: Oh right, yeah well I mean there was an agreement.... *flips pages*
Prof: Ok.... There weren't any definite terms though were there?
Student: well umm... yes they were going to sell wheat.
Prof: If you had to pick another answer.....
Student: ughhh there was a contract?

Granted, this professor makes all of us scared to say anything- he has this knack for making you second guess the formulation of any basic sentence- there's a noun, an adjective, some verbs...what no? No nouns. No nouns. Commas....umm present participle? Yeah that sounds good! No..... ugh...essentially you have a noun. Then your subject and verb agree? Or disagree? Shit. But honestly, I cringe when I say "essentially" I'm trying to get it out of my vocabulary, along with the word "like" I've been working on "like" for about five years, so I'm a work in progress. It's just funny that we all revert back to "essentially" and "like."

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Dayton Drivers....ugh

An ode to Dayton Drivers, by Me

Today I feel that I have hit the breaking point. I literally have had instances nearly every day since I’ve moved to Dayton, that I almost get hit or rear-ended, side-swiped or flipped off. It’s so ridiculous! Granted, I am new to the area, so it’s natural to get some things wrong and have some people honk or cuss at you. That I can handle. What I cannot handle, is the amazing lack of respect drivers have for one another. People drive like they had to be somewhere yesterday.
I live on the edge of downtown. Just like my downtown section of home, half the streets go one way and the other half go the opposite; so there are a lot of times where you’ll have to keep driving until you find a street going the right direction you’re wanting to go. At about every 150 yards or so, there’s a stop light- a bona fide freaking stop light. So when traffic is more active, you’re stopping and going, stopping and going. Now, what is it about a stop light that makes people turn stupid? Seriously, as the light is yellow-about-to-turn red, people speed up! Even when they’re so far back that there is no way they’d get through the intersection before the light settled at red. When I stop at a light, there are usually one to two cars that fly through the intersection as oncoming traffic nearly clips them.
My other issue is the school zone sections of town. At home the school zones require that you drive 15mph. Here in Dayton, it is 20mph. That is odd in itself, especially with the school being right smack in the middle of downtown. I would think they’d be all about 10mph or something, but 20mph? That’s a bit too fast to get to a stop when a little kid is running across the road. As if that weren’t bad enough, no one- and I mean no one- slows down to even 25mph. I’m looking around as people fly by me or honk at me, and I can’t help but wonder, “Why are they doing that? Aren’t we supposed to go this speed?” Apparently not kids, so run like you’re life depends on it, because well, it kind of does.
Like I said before, I’m new here. But even with my West Virginia plates and newbie status, I still know when you should switch lanes and when you should not. One street in particular is four lanes wide. That doesn’t stop people from working their way over in one swoop to the opposite side. I’m driving along and then all the sudden there’s a car flying into my lane ahead of me which causes me to slam on the brakes. I really have tested my brakes here- a lot.
Highway driving is pretty scary. Don’t even get me started on Columbus. I refuse to go through Columbus. No one drives the speed limit or even close to it. It’s 65, and I clocked myself going 85! I was still being passed and had cars riding my ass. Crazy!
Another thing, why is it that no matter what time of day it is, everyone must know what you’re listening to? I thought I had MY music up load, and when I looked down, it was turned off. That’s just nonsense. No wonder you can’t drive, you’re too busy trying to figure out if you should turn up the treble or bass. Neither. Turn it off.
Finally, I haven’t seen someone litter in years. No joke. You hear about it, but I seriously don’t think I have seen someone do that since they started airing the commercials with the crying Indian. Yesterday, after this chick with loud music cut me off, she apparently needed to clean out her car. She first threw a medium sized McDonald’s bag that looked pretty full. The whole bag! She just tossed ‘er out while in stopped traffic. I was dumbfounded! Then, as we’re going along, she throws a water bottle out too. I cannot believe people would be that ignorant. It was so awful. I wanted to get her plate number and call the police, but as luck would have it she had temporary tags and they were expired, and the numbers were scratched out. Seriously people.
I thought about changing my plates over to Ohio so I could save on insurance, but after this shit, I don’t want to be associated with that. I know people in my state (myself included, I’m sure) are not good drivers. Hell, I make mistakes all the time. But I don’t drive like a maniac. I may get confused or take a wrong turn, but I have never blown through a stop light trying to mow down some little kids while switching up my cds. I have never sped up when I knew a light was turning and there was no way I was going to catch it. When people fly up the lane only to realize they should’ve merged a long time ago, I let them cut in front of me. I hate to pass on the highway. I’m a nice driver! When I started driving, I remember being told that I needed to worry about how I was driving, but even more so, I needed to watch everyone else. No kidding. I think of that on a daily basis now. This place is nuts.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Phase 2....

Usually my ideas come from barely legible penmarks scribbled on bar napkins the morning after my roommate and I get completely wasted. We'd sit on our barstools, splitting $3 pitchers, eavesdropping into the conversations of other people. It's amazing what people talk about at the bar. I mean crazy stuff: their medical catastrophies, just how "good" it was the other night, just how bad it was, how awful it will be if ____ found out that her best friend was sleeping with her boyfriend, etc. I mean A-mazing amounts of blackmail can be gathered in just one evening. Court and I even took pictures of people to put with our scribbled napkins. I'd act like I was posing for a picture and Court would hold the camera slightly off to the side to get the White Trash go-go boots chick hanging all over Sarah's soon-to-be-dumped-after-tonight boyfriend. It made it a lot easier in the morning when you had photos to jog your memory before writing.

I have found great ideas while in the shower. I do my best thinking in the shower. I have even contemplated keeping a dry erase board in there My freshman year of college I had one of those recorders that had the tiny tapes in it. I bought it for lectures, but then I found myself talking to it more than my professors. Everyone should get one of those. I know you're all probably thinking of that rediculous infomercial where the girl is at the supermarket replaying her, "Butter, milk, eggs" store list in the most god-awful monotone voice.

Sometimes I have even found an idea while watching baseball, sitting up in the stands watching a certain someone in his adorable baseball uniform. I can multi-task when I want to. I have even had outrageous dreams where I wake up and think, "Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!" I don't know why I write about random stuff. It's kind of like a bad habit, but one you don't want to quit. Retail therapy for some, blogging for others. I dunno, it's free. So sue me.

This time my inspiration came to me while listening to one of my friends talk about her dates with a certain guy. She and I talk at length about guys and what their deal is every time we see each other. We've just always been that way.

A couple of years ago I came across a book that truly changed my life. My roommate at the time and I were both in interesting guy situations and we heard about a book called, He's Just Not That Into You. I made a joke about it in passing, and for Christmas I got a Lindsay Lohan CD (F-in RIGHT!) and that very book. We laughed about it and I remember telling Jess that there's no way a man could talk honestly about his own species and not get beat up by the rest of the male race for thinking it, let alone having the audacity to publish it.

I opened the book, and by the time I had finished chapter one I was born again. Girlfriend -as Greg the author called me- was in for some serious reality checking. I read that book like I was dying of thirst after a marathon and it was a Gatorade.

I learned so much from that book. I gave up trying for about year. I had two encounters with two different guys and I seriously could care less if they called me or anything more than a makeout session came out of it. I was even a bitch to one of the guys. Like hardcore. Anyway, long story short. It was 11 months before I even thought about a relationship with someone. And I remember being told while bartending one night, that I was ready. Yes, I was ready for a relationship. OK cool. Let's do it.

I took a lot from that book, but still kept some of my own thougths and what not, but it made me smarter. I think about certain parts of it a lot. I think I owe Greg a little 'thank you' now that I am happy, in love, with a wonderful guy I've been dating for over a year.

Ok, so I told my friend about the book. It's like pay it forward. You HAVE to pass it on people. We were talking a few days ago about it, and all the sudden she brings up this article she found while brooding over a recent asshole who took the easy way out. For years ladies, we have been searching in vain for a good explanation for why guys do what they do. I had a great book, some people have spots on Oprah, Lifetime made movies, and teenagers wrote "Jimmy has a small penis" on the bathroom stall door and felt vindicated. But we never really had a term. Like illnesses have a term- flu, migraine, pneumonia, even, a period. But guys get off scot-free. Nothing tangible. Until now.

The article is like a godsend.

Enter the "Faze out." Yep, that is correct. That jack ass that led you on, then disappeared, or fazed you out. Now, don't get too excited. One night stands don't count. It's too dangerous to be sleeping OR fooling around with someone on the first night anyhow. So if he got the milk for free, you earned that one. Hate to be harsh, but that's how it is.

Ok, so you meet a guy, he seems nice enough. Maybe you get a couple of drinks. Have a second date. Everything is going well. He tells you that you're such an awesome girl, blah blah blah. You have a third date. He invites you to meet his family and friends.

He forgets to call when he says he will. You forgive him- people get busy. He forgot to show up for dinner- it happens to weren't all that hungry anyways. He doesn't pick up his phone- hasn't your phone died before? He stops calling...then he just stops.

Notice what's happening? He's fazing you out. He lays it on thick, gets you excited. You begin to think, "Wow this is great! I have had such bad luck and this guy seems really into me and we're making plans...." STOP. Brick wall. You have basically made up every excuse for why he's not calling short of alien abduction or anthrax, and you still cannot win. Did I do something wrong? Wait, did I eat too much at dinner? Was it the bad Tom Cruise joke? What gives?!

Fazing out, is just another way for a ratbastard-excuse-for-a-man to drop a girl on her ass. This can happen over a few dates or over a few months. After researching a bit, I found it can happen over a few years even. If you're married it's called divorce... or for you Catholics, annulment.

Ok, side note- I don't automatically assume all men suck. I actually think boys suck. A true man (TM) would not do something so low. TM's may have been boys in their past, and some are just so awesome that they were born TM's and know that the bond between men and women is a bond of mutual respect and loyalty, not to be forfeited for a bachlor party or because they were wasted. TM's work on their TM status all the time. You get what you give. TM's know this. Boys, on the other hand, only know what their penis tells them. They know that their "thing" goes somewhere and therefore they spend every free moment trying to find just where in fact it goes. The perpetual puzzlepiece game. So in short- not all men are assholes. It just takes one to prove that. Sometimes it does feel like there is only one, somewhere under a rock...but hang in there.

Back to the issue at hand. Fazing out drives us crazy. Why do guys do this? Some guys faze out with out even getting so much as a kiss. They just want a couple dates and then poof! They're gone. So if you're standing in the dust and want to know what the deal is, think about this:

1. Boys (Not TM's) like to keep their egos in constant check. They always ask themselves, "Can I do better? Is she hot enough? Will she make other girls want me?" Then they find out if all that's 6 or less dates. We'll call him " The grass is alway greener on the other side-guy."

2. Boys (Not TM's) have this desire to feel as if they have no one to answer to at any time. Thor does what Thor wants. Grr....*tears into giant drumstick* They also probably have distant relationships with their families. Unless of course they have laundry to do or money to borrow.

3. Boys want to know that they are desired- how can they check someone else out and maybe make a booty call if you're sitting beside them. Also the "roving eye" guy. You can't compete with a guy that stares into any reflective surface with in five miles of himself.

4. Some boys like to play house. He's the most difficult to peg. He's the one who gets us to fall hard, and then he has a sudden change of heart. You really have to work hard to sniff this guy out. He's sweet, he brings you thoughtful gifts. You think he's got his proverbial "shit" together. You may or may not meet his friends/family. But you NEVER stop asking yourself, "Is this guy for real?" You'll have your answer soon enough- he is a coward.

Alrighty, so if you ever come across this article- and as soon as I find the address I will post it- get a good seat and make sure your computer isn't on your lap so you won't knock it over when you do your "Eureka!" dance.

Has anyone ever seen that movie, "Someone Like You" with Ashley Judd. It's about a New York girl who, while reading the Sunday paper, comes across an article that discusses the mating behavior of cows. Did you know, that once a male cow mates with a female cow, he will not mate with her again- ever. Even if she's cleaned and perfumed to smell like a "new cow," he won't touch her. She equates this to male mating behavior, as she's been recently jilted. Once and man "gets his cow," i.e. the woman, he no longer wants to be with that cow, and then moves on to find a new cow. And the pattern continues on, over and over again.

She is so wrapped up in this that it consumes her life and she nearly misses the one man who, although in the past was a typical male cow, was really just a TM in boy's clothing, who had been changed by her, with out either of them realizing it until it was almost too late. Fabulous movie. I recommend it. Huge Jackman's character is hard not to love.

Whether it's fazing out, or mad cow syndrome (I had to!) there are at least a few explanations to male behavior that I'm been fortunate to come across and then pass along. I do want to stress however, that men do get a bad rap sometimes. It's like credit cards, a few bad people ruined it for the rest of us. One guy in the article did say that he tried to explain to a woman that he was just not interested romantically and she took it as he thought she was unattractive and told him to kindly fuck off.

Unfortunately, women are programmed anymore to assume that an honest man is just a jerk offending us. We say that we want to know the truth. But can we really handle the truth? Who wants to hear "I had a good time, but I am not really feeling that "romantic vibe"? For men who don't want to hurt our feelings, the faze out allows men to move on. You can think he's an ass, and that's the end. Some men would rather be thought of as jerks then hurt our feelings. Aw, how sweet....

I wish there was a way to know just what you're dealing with, but I really don't have any tricks to sniff out jerks. I do know one thing- and it came from my own Father. I should've paid closer attention when he told me this my freshman year of college. It would have saved a lot of heartbreak. After an awful 3 month faze-out, I was talking to my Dad about the whole ordeal. I had met this jackass at a bar where all my friends hung out. He stopped me right there and said, "Court, trust me, you will never find the man of your dreams in a bar, or a party. No one is themselves at those places. They're either drunk, drugged, or they are trying to impress anyone and everyone." 10 points for you Dad!
I look back on that and just slap my forehead. Duh! I guess we'll never know what kind of guy he is until we get him in the daylight, around his crew, or one-on-one. There are so many women who bitch about how shitty guys are, but if we were really honest with ourselves we could say:
a. we moved too fast
b. we forced him to play house
c. we told him we weren't into anything serious, when we all know that is a lie- that will make a guy run faster than fire. If you want a relationship, speak up. It saves you both time and energy if you aren't on the same page.
d. we're really just not that into HIM.
e. we were tired of being "the only one" with out a boyfriend.
f. it truly would never have lasted past spring formal.

Another great pearl of wisdom from my Dad- if there is some tiny thing about him that you don't like, i.e. how he eats, how he says something, they way he treats you, get out now. It will only bug the crap out of you. Think of it this way: if he pick his nose now, when you're still getting to know each other and everyone's on their best behavior, think about what he'll do later on when you're comfortable around each other. Ewww.

I think a lot of times, and I say this from experience, that most of the guys we thought were awesome and turned out to be not-so-awesome were our fault. We overlooked things to keep it all together. He was being himself, NOT lying in fact. We figured we could train our man to be our prince charming. Would you like to be "trained" into cooking food for impromptu poker nights? Hell no. So why shove a square into a circle? If I only knew then what I know now.

When realtionships end, for whatever reason, it still sucks, this is true. It makes you rethink every teensy tiny moment you spent with Mr. Unwonderful. Just stop. Don't do that to yourself. Unless that gives you some sort of closure. Just be happy that you're free to find someone else and aren't wasting your time anymore. I once saw this movie- I don't know which one unfortunately- but it was about a girl who was in this one sided relationship. She tried so hard to make it work. There was a scene where she was sitting in a park watching people walk by and she saw a couple having a picnic. She imagined that she was with that guy and how sweet he was. Then she saw a couple holding hands. She imagined herself with him. And then another and another. Before long she relized that her current man would never do any of the things she was daydreaming about. He didn't have a sweet bone in his body and she was holding out, thinking he'd change. In the end she dumped him, and found this hottie writer-type who treated her much better. So see, why do we beat ourselves up? We need to find that sweet hottie writer-type!

We could go on and on, but maybe some of this helped a bit. At least it's something to chew on. I wouldn't recommend the faze out for anyone- honesty is not boring, it's common courtesy. Don't do unto men what men have done to you. You will for sure, hurt someone who doesn't deserve it, or you will get it right back ten-fold. Talk about square one. If he doesn't want to be with you, take it in stride, and keep on truckin' ahead to the next guy or just be happy being free. You don't have to have a man to be happy. And when you look at being dumped as "Great, now I have to go back to being single," then you will most definitely hate it. But when you look at it as, "Sweeeeet, I'm single!" Then you'll have a better attitude and be more open to just relax and live it one day at a time. I would highly recommend the not dating for six months to a year option. You get to do a lot of soul searching in that time and not be clouded by the dating game.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Stickin' It to the (wo)man

Ok...quick update. I got a fabulous apartment. I am now full-time at work. I have been doing great. I finished my first gemology course and passed with flying colors. (I like pink flying colors.) I am waiting to hear back from GIA to see if I am eligible to receive any scholarships...which would rock. Justin and I are going ten months strong and I am looking into getting a kitten or a miniture dog- something cute.

Alrighty...can we please get a hell yeah for people walking out on the job?! I recently had two different instances of this awesome phenomena. When your life at work sucks because of one person, it's hard not to secretly wish they would get fired or people would realize what pieces of crap they really are.
I, for one, believe that God doesn't work that way. You will never be walking down the street and all the sudden see the guy that cut in front of you at Starbucks this morning get soaked by a car after a heavy rain. You'll never be sitting on a park bench with your "uber crush" making out just as his ex, or your high school enemy, walks by just in time to see him reach in his pocket for that coveted 2-carat diamond ring. Yeah right. You also won't ever be around when the person who has made your life a living hell for so long you stopped counting- finally gets what is coming to them. God just puts his hand up and says, "Nope. Ain't gonna happen. Just go do your thing and leave everything up to me." Ugh!!! FINE!
Not even one teensy little peek into "Youhaditcomingville?" Grr...ok. As I'm mentally stomping away in protest, I again had an epiphany. I love that word- epiphany.
Here I am thinking how unfair it is that certain people get away with everything. That the power of manipulation is ruining my ability to have a normal day in my life. I am worrying constantly that I am getting closer and closer to my breaking point. The last straw is just a nano-incident away. Am I going to be able to do this?! All the sudden, Miss Trigger Finger, shot again. And missed....big time. I didn't even see it coming, so I definitely know God is paying attention. And boy, what a show.
First off, when you decide that you want out of a situation, be it work, a relationship, a bad book even- get the fuck out. Just close that chapter and end of good terms. Don't drag it out to the point where you start looking like a pathetic moron or a scary unstable mean-y. (Yes, I said mean-y.) Why hang out on that limb? If someone is just not happy and thereby takes it upon themselves to invent creative ways to "stick it to the man," shouldn't they just stop wasting energy and leave? Go do something else? Relax?!
Well, you would think that such a level of unhappiness would lead to a change. Either you'd talk it out and clear the air, or things would just get to the point where someone had to step up or step out. So after about a year of constant bitching it finally happened. Just like that. I'm on the other side of the building putting the finishing touches on a recent sale, and I get the confrontation that only a crazy person would have the guts to follow through with.
We don't work on commission, I have known that since the beginning. I also realize that I am the newest person there and I would never attempt to tell someone how to do their job. Even if I know that I know better, it's just not cool. I also have been scared to death of pissing this person off, so it's been a walking on broken glass kind of year.
Alrighty, so here's how it played out- no frills, no spins- just the plain truth. You can't make this shit up. It's funny enough on its own.

We'll start with a brief background- the person I work with that hates me, actually was the person who got me my current job. And I am eternally grateful- seriously. This job has cleared a lot up for me life-wise. I would thank them, but I'm not in the business of handing out ego-trips, so we'll just assume that they know deep down how grateful I am.
The first two months were great. I had fun, we had become really close and I think helped us a lot. Then as Christmas came to a close, I was offered to stay on part time. I made sure is jived with everyone else and accepted. January was a little rough- she complained a lot to me, but nothing ever really involved me. She was mostly bitching about our manager, the owner, the situation. And honestly, at that time I could see where she was coming from. Some things definitely sucked. But it still wasn't that horrible. We could work in a lot worse places. As the winter played out and we got into spring, it was like she was wound tight. There were little blowups and snide comments going back and forth. There was a confrontation with our manager and weekly "meetings" with the owner to explain how mistreated she was. Every day we all wondered what was next. One great day, one good day, one shitty day, one good day, one great day....blah blah blah.
More background- my boyfriend Justin works there too. That's how we met. I normally don't date people I work with. I've done that once before and very unfortunately it didn't work out. I worked with Justin my first Christmas season there and never really paid attention to him. Then last year for some reason it was different. I fell hard and prayed that guy noticed me. We didn't even talk and I was already hoping he'd ask me out. Well to make a long story short, he did, and we're still together.
I again made sure it wasn't a problem with everyone at work and no one had any complaints, except for her. At first, they were valid claims. What if you break up and you have to work together? What about looking too lovey-dovey? Be careful....ok ok. Then it just got fucked up. Justin and I were very secretive about our relationship, but all the sudden he and I are going out too much and drinking too much and all kinds of other stuff that I wouldn't tell Dr. Ruth. Needless to say, I was pissed. But being the scared and intimidated person I was, I said nothing. I was waiting for something to give. And I owed NO ONE an explanation unless they came to me and asked for one.
Alright. So the end of April Justin went to school for a week in Virginia Beach for goldsmithing. It was the first time in almost 5 months that we'd be apart. I got the work schedule for that week and realized that I had two days off. Woo hoo! I'm going to Virginia Beach! And the only person that had a problem with that was, you guessed it! I went anyway. When I came back, we had two horrible days at work, then she got pissed at the tiniest thing (someone correcting her sales slip) and she walked out. Things spiraled downward pretty fast after that. She ran her mouth to everyone, played everyone against everyone else, and pretty much stirred the caldron like the witch she truly is.
The summer sucked. Every week it was a new ordeal. She threatened to quit, talked shit, and basically had most of us flipping her off when she turned her back to us. I was to the point where it was her or me.
Then that fateful day....

This couple had been in twice before looking at 1 carat diamond earrings. They came in again this time to buy finally. I was using the restroom, and when I came out our office manager asked me to giftwrap something for her. So I took the gift and went to the other side of the store. I noticed that couple had returned and smile and went on my way. So I'm wrapping this gift and all the sudden she comes storming over.

Her: We don't work on commission Courtney.
(Obviously I'm not thrilled with the tone she's used)
Me: What? What are you talking about?
(I kinda thought maybe this was a joke)
Her: You heard me, we don't work on commission, so there was no need to get Teresa [our manager] to come finish my sale
(Oook...this is not going well)
Me: I really have no idea what you're talking about.
Her: Yes you do. You saw those people come in and you went to get Teresa to butt in on my sale!
(At this point I realize this is just another one of her tirades, but this time it's a bit more scary and I'm pretty pissed because I know that I didn't do what she's accusing me of.)
Me: I didn't get anyone, I have been here the whole time.
Her: Whatever, I just wanted you to know that we don't work on commission.
(DUH! I'm aware .... what the hell.)

So she storms out of the store. I'm still standing there like what the heck happened? I walked over to follow her because at that point I thought about going outside to be like, "Hey bitch, don't talk to me that way..." But I figured that was not the smartest thing I could do. My manager intercepted me and asked if she confronted me. What really happened was our Office Manager saw the couple come in and when she saw that bitchface was working with them she asked Teresa to help because they had been in the store already and we needed to close the sale. Funny how I get blamed. So she walked out and quit. Just like that. No more of this quitting and coming back the next day bullshit. She just outright quit. Awesome.

Three weeks later, everyone gets along. We're all much more positive. Her name hasn't really been mentioned. I did however find out a lot of the nonsense bullshit she's been saying. Once she was gone it didn't take much to realize all the crap she'd really been pulling. This woman came in yesterday and was asking about her. We just said that she had left. Not that she quit or got fired. It was her decision. There were no hard feelings. Short and sweet. Then the best thing happened. This woman was like, "Aww that's a shame, I bet you all miss having her around, huh?" You know what? Not ONE person said anything. We all laughed out loud when that lady left. Like hysterical laughing. Or maybe it was a laugh of relief and pent up "hell yes, the bitch is gone!" But it felt good.
Today we were cleaning out the office. We always write down our larger sales so we can contact the customer and make sure they are happy with their purchase and whatnot. When Teresa got to her journal she went through the pages and skimmed some of the sales. There was one in particular that caught her eye from about two years ago. (Keep in mind I was not there to cause her any "grief" as she put it.

"1 carat round diamond. SI1/E. Sold to ______. I was the person who helped with this sale. Teresa wrote up the slip, but it was me who talked to him in the parking lot and I spoke to him the day before when he came in again. I helped with that sale." *scary music*

So obviously she was hating before I was there to cause her all the problems she blamed on me. She was wacking out WAY before me. What a misguided, scary bitch.

All the crazy stuff she pulled between flipping off the camera, telling our owner that I was an alcoholic, our manager was ruining her sales (eventhough she has 27 years experience in the busniess- she totally butted in!), we can all now breathe a sigh of relief that she's back home where she belongs. Maybe the job itself was what caused her to be so upset all the time and whatnot. But I however, know better. And it goes way beyond the amount of space I am allowed on here. I know that it's not over yet. Her scary ass "fuck you" smile is all I need to know that it's not over yet. But whatever. I'm just glad that I don't have to look at her everyday. and I sure as shit don't have to hear her glass-breaking laugh.

True story.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

A "stinky" situation...

First things first, I am NOT happy that I could not log into my usual blog. That was MY corner of cyberspace and just because I have been busy for the past six months, does not mean that I should have to redo my whole blog. So for my loyal fans, here is the old link so you can pass that along:

Moving on...

I hate to play catch up, but it has been nearly six months. Here's the short version. I did not get into law school. Major bummer, but I'm dealing with it a lot better than I thought. I can take rejection pretty well actually. I've been very humbled by the whole experience. I'm still extremely pissed over how much money was spent on applications and Kaplan courses. But average LSAT's and slightly above average grades don't bode well for admittance. Maybe I'll try again in a couple of years. Or maybe this was for the best. I am currently working on a degree in gemology. I have been working at a jewelry store and I absolutely love it. It could definitely pay a little more, but I'm making it on my beer budget and can still manage a little champagne here and and there. When I finish that I am hoping to do some designing and diamond grading/jewelry appraising. Who knows, I could be working at Tiffany's. But I'd be a lot less stuck up than their sales associates. I for one will NEVER buy my sterling from Tiffany's- I have issues with spending so much on a soft metal. It still tarnishes and anyone ovver the age of 21 that wears those huge toggle necklaces needs to grow up. They do NOT go with everything. (I just had a flashback of my mother superglueing white shoes on all of my barbie dolls while saying, "White goes with everything, Court" when I protested.) She was also wrong.

I thought about getting my Master's in Public Health. I haven't totally ruled that out yet. I just really do not know that to do. I would love to use my degree, but I just don't really feel 100% up to doing it. And I can't afford school loans right now. I'm debt free...I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible. I'd like to be doubly sure of what I'm doing before blowing my wad on some degree I'm not even sure I want. I may apply for a pharmaceutical rep. position. I got one interview, but didn't go. Ha. I know. That was stupid. But after my interview with the sales team that will remain nameless, I've had all the sexist males high-fiving each other over who won the farting contests I can take. (I'll explain in a second- it's worth mentioning.)

I'm focusing all of my attention and energy on getting the eff out of my parents' house. I cannot stay here much longer. I'm too old for this family business, and to be frank, I like living on my own. I feel more in control of my life and more mature. Living at home (with a curfew- I'm not kidding) is really starting to go against my grain. I've scoured the bulletin boards, newspapers, and word-of-mouth apartment leads, and really have not found a damned thing. I need something I can afford. And again, that's not a whole lot. This starting out stuff is hard, so I'm not expecting any miracles. I'll keep positive though!

Ok, so back to the interview. Keep in mind that I am a freshly-graduated, doe-eyed, optimist with a helluva lot to learn.

I was desperate one night and got on the job search sites. I found a listing for insurance sales that seemed quite promising. Paid vacation, company car, extensive training program, laptop, no cold-calling. I'd get discount medical and dental insurance which I would really like to have since getting kicked off my dad's Blue Cross last year. (Jerks!) Ok among the list of perks was this little thing called Salary. I had never had a real salary job before. I bartended, waitressed, supervised interns for a summer. This was sweet. Four-fifty a week PLUS commissions. (It may not be much but I was excited- and still knew nothing about the insurance business. But they were willing to train me, right?) So I wear my black suit, one worn mostly for sorority events or convention weekends. I left work early went home and primped a bit. I was on my way.

I arrive at the office of this company. No one was there. I looked around the sterile room with rubber baseboards and that typical "hospital waiting room" furniture. Should I sit down? Should I poke around until I find someone? Then I hear voices. So I walk up to the window counter- seriously, is this a doctor's office? I pear into to window and I see a receptionist wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Nice. Instantly I feel overdressed. I clear my throat and she turns around to see where it was coming from. Another receptionist comes through the door, clad in a t-shirt and jeans ensemble. She looked at me like I was in the wrong place. It was after hours I take it? Alright, so I explain that I'm here for the sales team position. She suggests I take a seat and someone will be right with me. I take my seat and held that seat for nearly 15 minutes. I was about to just leave when I heard men laughing. Then one whispered, loudly, "What's her name? Courtney? Are you sure? I don't want to get it wrong, and make an ass out of myself."

Yes...please....don't make an ass out of yourself. Ok, I can appreciate an office where you can feel free to curse at the appropriate times, but this was not an appropriate time. And I really don't think 'Courtney' is that hard of a name. Assclown. Strike one.

So after he gets his shit together and my name, the voice finally gets a face. I think his name was Bill? I don't remember. He shook my hand so hard I thought I heard my bones crunch. I passed a few people who I assumed were agents, all male. All had that car salesman-cheap suit thing going on. You could have heard a pin drop when I walked by. They eyed me as I stepped into Bill's office. They had somewhat angry looks on their faces too, whatever that meant. It felt hostile. That's all I know. His office was strewn with papers and a couple empty take out boxes. It definitely fell into the "hot mess" category. There were the token pictures of his family, a picture of three guys toasting whomever took that photo with red Solo beer cups. As I sat down, I had that feeling that I was being the wrong place. I do not think I'm hot or sexy or any of that crap, but this guy (my potential superior) is looking THERE. I seriously watched his eyes as I sat down and was waiting for his gaze to move up to my face where it fucking should be. At that moment I wanted to leave. But I liked the prospect of a company car and benefits too much to leave. Ok...steeerrrike two.

He opens by asking me a little bit about myself. I loathe that question. Did you not read my cover letter and resume? There is nothing more you need to know. I will never fill you in on my personal life, so let's just stick to the professional stuff, mkay? "Well," I take a deep breath. "I just graduated from _____. I recently moved back home from South Carolina where I had a really fun job doing_____. I really am looking to go in a completely different direction than I previously planned because"....shit. This is why I hate that question. Do you have a millenium? I was thinking about twenty steps ahead of where I was talking and I just realized, that I never even thought to practice was I was going to say. Nor did I think that I should research the actual selling of insurance part instead of researching the hell out of the company and their product line. I spent all this time learning what they did and how broad their client base was, but I didn't really think of anything about the job itself. I didn't know what I'd be doing outside of what they listed on the job posting and I really don't know the first thing about insurance, except that I don't have any. Sure I'll get training, but I don't think I like insurance...and this guy REALLY needs to look at my FACE. So I keep trudging along trying to sound peppy and excited. Then he asks, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" PLEASE. Don't ask that question. I don't fucking know! I live my life one drink, one fun night, or one pair of cute shoes at a time. I really just break even monetarily every month. I really just want to do better than break even. Can I say that? Another deep breath, "Well Bill, I am now starting down the path I'd like to call my plan B, since I decided not to go to law school right now. (More like I was shut down) I'm looking to join the real world and three more years of school just didn't seem like something I was ready for at this time. I am open for any opportunities that may arise. Ideally, I would love to find a job that will allow me to establish myself and a job that I can feel good about. I'm a workaholic; I take my work seriously. I just want to be challenged and be proud of what I do, and only then do I care about what it pays. I really can't say where I would be in five years. Hopefully, I will be successful and I'll have been at the type of employment I just described for almost five years." Ok, I'm beating a dead horse. I stop and just let him have his interview back.

"Great. All great answers! So, what if I told you that you could be making six-figures in five years' time? What would you say to that Courtney?"

Ha! I'd say hell yeah, who wants a drink? Mama's making six-figures!

"Well, I think that'd be great!"

"Good, let me tell you just how we can make that happen..." And then Bill goes into this spiel and had totally lost me. All I heard was, "mentor program,"" could be a supervisor coming out our training's kinda like college, for the first two years you'd be in classes for three days a week and then...." Whoa buddy, what part of "I don't want to be in school for three more years" don't you get? This creep sounded so rehearsed. All I kept thinking after he said the part about six-figures and company cars was how much this resembled a pyramid scheme. I was waiting for that guy from the "Millionaire Real Estate" infomercial to step into the office and really show me "the 7 steps to success."

I probably should have thought of some insurance type questions to ask but I really just didn't think this was for me. So I decided to come clean. "Can I stop you Bill?" He nodded, at my breasts. (AHHH!) "Look, I want to be honest here, this is my first interview for a real-world job. I have never sold insurance. I do not know the first thing about it. I understand there is a two-year training program, but that just seems a little involved to me. Am I going to be compensated for this training? I won't be acutally selling anything, so how am I going to be making a living for these two years? I just don't know if I would be a good fit with this company if I have absolutely no experience, none. I know policy, political policy. I just don't see how someone like me, who has no business background and no real sales experience, could be a match."

And would you believe that bastard just kept right on going as if I hadn't stopped him?! I mean like he didn't even blink. He just kept droning on and on.

He then asked me to take this test which was a series of questions reworded to make sure that I consistently respond the same way in similar situations or some shit like that. I own these tests. I am the queen of rewording. I do not advocate plagiarism at all, I always cite. When in doubt, cite that shit. But I can summarize, paraphrase, regurgitate, etc, with the best of 'em. He says it usually takes an hour. An hour?! Ugh. I start to tell him that I do not want to waste his time if he is already sure that I am underqualified. He then tells me that they are specifically looking for recent college grads. They want to find people with varied backgrounds so they can have a diversified team. Ok, that makes some sense, I'll bite. So he sets up his personal computer for me to take the test on. He says that when I'm finished my answers will be sent to his email and then he will use them to further evaluate my application and interview. OK cool. So I sit down behind his desk. I gotta admit people, I belong on that side of the desk. The control side. His chair was very tall and cushy. I had this image of me dusting my "sales person of the quarter" trophies and chatting with my secretary (which would be a male, because you just don't see enough guy secretaries, and we'd be the best of friends.) He left the office and I got started.

About five minutes in this retarded test..."Do you like working with people? How do you feel about direct interaction on the job? Do you enjoy face-to-face interaction with clients?" Seriously!

I hear a woman's voice. She sounds like she has smoked for some great length of time, so I'm guessing she was a lot older than me. And then I hear, "Well we're looking for potential employees who have work experience in the insurance field and can bring ideas to the table. We seek leaders....blah blah blah." I didn't need to hear anymore. That fucker is interviewing someone else for the same job as me! Who the hell runs concurrent interviews?! That is so rude! The walls are paper thin and I can hear exactly what is being said. She said that she saw the job posted on Monster (as did I) and she was wondering what this two-year mentor training program entailed, because she felt she had a leg up on less experienced potentials with her 10 years of inurance sales experience. She was looking for a new job because she did not like the drama of her current office. Who cares....he told me they were looking for recent graduates. This guy was just tailoring the interview to fit whoever he was talking to. This is horseshit. I go back to finishing the test. And all the sudden I want this job. I really want this job. I bet you she wants a new job because the drama was caused by here at her current job. Bill is going to beg me to take this job. Thirty-five minutes later I am on the last section of questions. One hour? Pfft! Whatever.

Here's where it gets interesting. There are now two people interviewing the drama queen. Bill then asks her to step into a cubicle to take the test. Ha! I got a whole office! You got a cubicle. You're probably used to cubicles, aren't you? Glad you aren't out of your element. I type faster and faster so I can have the best time of anyone who has taken this stupid test, all the while imagining all the power suits I will buy with my commissions and how I will have pretty letterhead and have my own business cards to casually hand out when schmoozing.

Ok, so Bill and another guy...are talking about game scores and male sports crap that I know nothing about. I am finished with my test but I figured I'd just go ahead and send it to his email and then wait to see if they say anything about me. I don't think there's anything wrong with eavesdropping...I am curious! Then it happens. Bill, or I think it was Bill, starts a tirade about how he's tired of interviewing every week for this position. (It can't be that bad can it?) The other guy agrees and they continue talking. I damn-near have my ear up to the wall to hear better, hoping that they come back to something nice about me and my potential maybe...when the loudest fart I think I have ever heard rips through the air. I was completely startled! I fell back into the chair and was stunned. I was speechless. The "boys" (because MEN don't act like that.) erupt into laughter and then begin shushing each other.

"Do you think they heard?"

"Man I don't know..."

"Oh wow, that is stank!"

"Heh heh, you gonna answer that shithead?"


"Yeah hang on..."

slightly quieter farting...slightly.

"Ha ha! Man that's awesome! HAHA!"

Ok...STRIKE FUCKING THREE. You have got to be kidding me. Two professionals, and I use the word professional very loosely, acting like children. What an impression. I really thought about writing the district manager or something. This was just apalling. Foul. Unprofessional. Disgusting. Immature....I could go on. I definitely DO NOT want this job.

The door swings open quickly and Bill comes in and slams the door. His face is beat red when he sees how startled and disgusted I am. He stammers and apologizes for barging in. I just sat there. What do you do? Really, what do you do? I eventually blurt out, "I finished the test!"

He asks if I have any other questions and I say nope, not one. I should have asked him if he needed to check his pants, but I thought that might be rude. So he says that he will look over my test and will be in touch. I didn't even shake the guy's hand. He is gross. I felt his heavy stare as I walked out to my car. EWW. No thanks.

Here's the kicker, I haven't been in my car for ten minutes when my cell rings.

"Courtney? this is Rick! I am sorry I didn't get to meet you during your interview today, I was in a meeting in the next office...."

Did this jackass just out himself? Rick was the other gas blaster!

"Oh hi! That's ok, I understand."

"Well, I looked over your resume and it's very impressive. I'd really like to meet with you sometime this week. Are you free this Wednesday? We will do a brief interview and then we can start talking more in depth about your training and whatnot..."

Is this guy for real? I totally bombed that interview. I was unprepared. I just felt like I wasn't a match at all.

"Um, sure I'm free Wednesday. Eleven o'clock? Ok I'll see you then. Thanks! I look forward to meeting you."

Haha....I've already HEARD you, might as well put a name with an ass....and I'm not talking about his posterior.

I didn't even go to that second interview. I didn't call either to let them know I wasn't coming. Take that. I am certain I would'nt have got the job anyhow, and if I was hired, I doubt it would be what they were making it out to be. I didn't see one female agent. There were at least 6 guys there, and the only females were the receptionists. I just find that weird. I doubt the gals went home early. They probably need to hire a woman to make the office look less sexist or something. I'll just chalk that up to an interesting way to spend a couple of hours and let it be.

just one more fun-filled event in my