Experience

Now that I'm back in the job hunt, I've once again seen a common denominator when it comes to seeking employment. "3-5 years experience required" is the one key thing I keep seeing. However, this brings me to a confusing crossroad...

How can we get 3-5 years of experience for that job if we can't find one that is willing to give us the experience? Do they have those first 3 years of experience available on CD-Rom at your local Office Depot? Maybe that's why people aren't getting those jobs, it's all the CD-Rom's fault for not being easily marketable. Then again, I doubt we can just get those years of experience by simply buying a product.

It's one of those cases where I just keep scratching my head as I scavenge for local jobs. And why do all the entry level jobs come from marketing firms? I guess that's just part of the curiosities of the job hunt. Entry level jobs are all personal sales, while the jobs you want require experience but don't wanna fork over those first 3-5 years.

Perhaps they should have universities give classes simply titled "Experience" and have it go from Experience 101 to Experience 301 to make sure we do get that minimum of 3 years experience. Experience in what, you ask? I don't know, but it shows here I took three years worth of experience in college!

Now where's my interview?

A Rush of Intensity

During the holiday season of 2006, I found myself working a few extra shifts at the local pharmacy. As typical of a holiday season, a swarm of people would ambush the store and the lone cashier tried to survive the rush. As expected, I was that lone cashier. And anybody who has gone to a pharmacy (seriously, who doesn't go to one?) knows how crazy it can get during the season.

So you have a formula for insanity right there with the season alone, but now let's add the "Saturday Rush Factor" to make it interesting. So what's an overwhelmed cashier to do in a tight spot with no backup? Easy, he resorts to a method never attempted before. And no, it wasn't that bad a thing. I bought one of those little energy shots that are supposed to give you energy for hours.

That's what I needed anyways, but I didn't know what I've gotten into until after I chugged that beverage of energetic proportions. At first, I didn't feel a thing and everything was going normally. And that's when the rush hit. Suddenly, everything started to slow down. And no, I wasn't on an acid trip (don't even know what those feel like, just for those of you wondering), but rather the energy drink was starting to work.

I was so hyper and charged with energy, that the whole world suddenly seemed to slow down around me. I felt like Neo, I was taking on the Matrix (or groceries) with lightning speed and max precision. I kept scanning and bagging items so fast, I felt like I had grown additional arms.

I felt like I had extra limbs thanks to that little drink of energy!

I don't know how much it lasted, but it's a rush that I've never felt before. Now I know why my friends warned me of energy drinks during high school. If I've been unbearable in my normal state, just imagine what an energy drink would do. With that kind of energy, I would have chatted someone to death. Lucky for me, all that energy was wasted on bagging like a maniac.

By the end of the shift, I was so beat, but I didn't realize I still had another bottle to go. And what a time it was to choose the remaining bottle. Here's a little bit of advice for anybody wanting to take energy drinks. Don't drink one if you're going to help navigate someone to a particular destination (this was before the GPS was commonly available and was expensive), so I took that map and made it my bitch. Navigating with energy drinks are quite an experience.

I'm glad to say I've yet to take another one of those since 2006, because they turn me into something else. Kind of like Bruce Banner and the Hulk, but not really focused on destruction.

Pride

I know I haven't posted as much lately. I've been busy trying to get acclimated with the new job I started last week. However, it all went in a completely different direction. It's hard to believe how a new experience can somehow turn sour, no matter how much you fight it. It's been a rough week so far (reason for not posting), and it all concluded today with my departure from the new job.

So this is where pride comes in. It's funny how pride can make us do strange things. Pride is such an easy thing to gain, but also an easy thing to lose. It's kind of like the attention span of a goldfish, but not as impressive. Our pride can sometimes blind us from the truth or try to protect us. For me, my pride would not allow me to admit I was sinking.

I feel like I got tossed in a pool while I was trying to swim. I tried all I could, but I was eventually overwhelmed and had to leave the pool. It's hard to admit it, but I had recognized I wasn't doing well in this new job. I broke down and admitted my defeat, and with that, I was out.

I don't post this to be gloomy (despite this being a blog of humorous nature), but rather as a lesson. Sometimes, our pride will not allow us to admit we aren't good at something. And eventually, we will recognize our limitations and make a decision. For me, it was realizing I was sinking fast and wasn't able to recover. Pride can be a fuel for self-improvement, but it can also cloud our vision.

Before I go, I want to at least leave something funny (again, being serious in a humor blog isn't normal for me, but I needed to do this). I did have a customer with the funniest name ever...

"Rusty Dick"

No joke. That's his name.

Road Signs

As I made my first drive across state lines, I wondered what the welcome sign for the next state would look like. As soon as I entered West Virginia, I was greeted with a big and colorful welcome sign. It was kinda hard to notice, but couldn't be appreciated due to the other sign that followed...an increase in the speed limit.

Now, I'm not a big fan of driving, but at least I can handle PA's 65 MPH limit just fine. As soon as I crossed the state, I felt like a broadcaster from the horse races was yelling in my ear "and they're off!" as I tried to increase the speed of the car. But at least the extravagant sign made my first state crossing feel a bit welcoming.

Too bad it wasn't the same once I was headed back into Pennsylvania. The welcome sign was hidden on one side of the road and really didn't call much attention. Really, PA? You want to welcome people into your state like a big nerd approaching a super model? I couldn't help but laugh at the contrast of signs, and yet, it all made sense a bit.

Being stuck in PA has been rather gloomy for a while, and my first trip into another state leaves a better impression just because it has a brighter welcome billboard. Let's hope Ohio isn't gloomy either, because that's where I might try next.

Daydreams

Have you ever found yourself drifting off and daydreaming at the most inopportune time? Do you lose focus during an important speech, during a test, at work, while you walk, while you try to drift off into another daydream, or while trying to save the universe from the forces of evil? This pretty much happens to all of us, so it's not unusual to look at the person next to you and have them staring at the stars.

I guess it's just the mind trying to take a quick snooze, even if it's at the most inconvenient time. And speaking of daydreams, here's a short film I made (a long time ago) about daydreams.

The Itchy Statue

In college, sometimes we go out of our way to get extra credit in a course. Sometimes we need it, and sometimes we do it just to impress someone who is trying to get it as well. In my case, it was a little bit of both. Our history teacher, a person so obsessed with the Greek culture that she would devour one if she ever came across one, decided to put up an event where her students would be portraying living statues in front of the entire university.
A bit nerve wrecking, but I needed the extra credit.

As we prepared for it, I realize my greek costume looks more like a 5 year old's attempt at a ghost during halloween. And yet, I continued. My sandals weren't very greek either, but instead were those monster "man-dals" full of mud. Close enough, I suppose. And so, we all marched into the main entrance and started to take our places. I was quite happy with this, considering all I would have to do is stand still and not do a thing.

The professor started placing us in our spots, and once my turn came, I was quite satisfied with my spot. I had plenty of shade, a steady base to stand on, plenty of visibility to see who was watching, I was close enough to an exit where I could bail. What could possibly go wrong, right?

As the event started, I started to get a slight itchy sensation in my left leg. Perhaps it was just the fact that I was standing still and my body was just messing with me. You know, like how we get an itchy nose as soon as we use both of our hands to lift something heavy. Well, I was having the same situation in my leg. Something didn't feel right. And for once during that day, I began to suspect something was going wrong.

As it turns out, the professor had placed me on top of an ant hill and didn't realize it. And I'm not talking about an approximation to the object in question, I'm talking about being placed right on top of the thing. So imagine, to my surprise, how it felt to have all those ants suddenly try to crawl up my leg. And that's when my problem came up. How was a statue supposed to scratch his legs if he couldn't move?

I could hear them singing in unison as they marched up my legs.

And once the professor turned around, I scratched my leg with the opposing leg's foot. I scratched as discretely as possible. But this is college, nothing goes unnoticed. All my friends started noticing my predicament. I was a statue standing on top of an ant hill and I was trying to scratch myself to the end of this event in one piece. And after what seemed like an eternity later, the event ended and I rushed off in a blind fury towards the men's room.

With one great swoop of a moist paper towel, I scraped off all those pesky ants that were still troubling me. Needless to say, I did get to make an impression that day, even though it wasn't the one I wanted. For a bit, people were talking about the itchy statue. And even though it faded into obscurity, it's one of those things that got me noticed for a brief time.

And yes, I did manage to get the extra credit. Did I impress the girl? Well, if you count making her laugh on account of your accidental predicament, then yes.

A Fancy Night

Not only did my early college days bring new depth to my character (I was seen as a crazy man with a mountain bike), but I was starting to appreciate the finer things in life for once. I was learning to love my new found free time, my new friends, my new life, everything was just going well. I was even losing all that weight that didn't go away in high school, but that most mostly due to the "college diet" where you eat cheap and eat little.

One of those things I was starting to appreciate were the arts, especially classic art. I discovered a Van Gogh painting (Starry Night) sometime during one of my days in class and it was an instant hit. The world of literature soon opened up even more, as I somehow submerged myself into the arts (not just because I was a humanities major at the time). And with my new found appreciation for the arts, I suddenly saw an opening to be a fancy gentleman.

One of our humanities professors had invited the class to an art gallery near the university for an event (which I seem to forget what it was) and any student who went would get extra credit. So I had a chance to be all artsy fartsy and try to improve my grade in a difficult class (history was never my strong point when I started out) all at the same time? Where do I sign?

Twas my time to be a gentleman!

Not just that, but there was also this girl I was trying to impress. What? It wouldn't be me if there wasn't some kind of conquest involved, now would it? Thought so. I was trying to impress Sally, a girl from our class (and freshmen survival group) that seemed to bond with me somehow. Hey, I sure as heck didn't complain. It was college, a whole new ball game. All my embarrassing shenanigans from high school were gone.
So then, at the night of the event, my friends and I congregated around some fancy art and everything seemed fine. That is, until they brought the wine.

This was my first time facing any kind of drink in the college environment. But this was somehow different. There was no pressure at all to drink. In fact, nobody seemed to care. However, I still wanted a bit of that wine. After all, I was trying to be as fancy as I could.

So I went with a friend who knew a thing or two about wine. And I simply followed his lead. Little did I know, I was in for a surprise. This man knew wine well, so of course he would pick some strong stuff. And like a little boy trying to imitate, I chose the same wine he did. Mistake #1 right there. And then I did what should never be done with wine. I took a giant gulp of it. That right there was mistake #2. You don't gulp, you sip.

Lift the pinky and be fancy!

My throat was so dry, I quickly looked for an immediate source of hydration. I had to conform to Pepsi, since there was no water around (surprisingly). After that, I realized what had happened. My friend was laughing at my mistake, especially since I had taken an "expert's wine" instead of a starter. So I started to look around and found white wine. And yes, I mixed wine with soda. And I took a few of each, not sure why.

So then, I started to feel a bit tipsy. However, I realized that these kinds of drinks affect me in a different way. Just like people can turn into annoying clowns when they drink, I turned into just the opposite. I was as quiet as can be.

And that's when Sally showed up. Crap!

The rest of the night was spent with her and friends, and I was as quiet as can be. And yes, I had my alone moments with her where I could have been gone all Antonio Banderas on her, but instead I was as quiet as Mr.Bean during a good comedy.

Yep, it was a fancy night indeed.

Digital Diagnosis

Some time last year, I decided to foolishly check WebMD to check information on something that was happening to me. Earlier that day I had either some hot chocolate or some kind of soup, either way, it was hot liquid. That first gulp burned my tongue a bit, something I'm quite familiar with. I'm clumsy, it happens.

And for some reason, that day was the first time I decided to really pay attention to what my burnt tongue looked like in the mirror. And what happens when you combine paranoia and curiosity? I don't know, but don't go looking for it on WebMD.

I checked all the symptoms, and of course, they all seemed like terrible diseases. Needless to say, I couldn't sleep that night for two obvious reasons. One, the feel of my burnt tongue became so obvious it was distracting for once. And secondly, the paranoia instilled in me would not let me sleep due to the fear of having a few bumps on the tongue being related to a form of cancer.

Eventually, reality kicked in and I felt rather foolish for even attempting to find out what I was going through. Turns out, WebMD and paranoia can turn a simple thing into a giant disaster. It's one of those things you put in the category of things that shouldn't get mixed together along with texting and driving,  or chocolate milk and pizza. They just don't go well together.

So next time you feel a bit funky and want to check online what you might be feeling, make sure to stop right there because you might be saying goodbye to common sense and hello to the loony bin.

Flags and Fireworks

Having been raised in a territory, I don't believe we have given much importance to July 4th. For us, it's been mostly a day off from work, a day at the beach with friends, or just a day to sleep. So it was kind of curious to see how it was going to be on the other side of the fence. And even though I spent some time living in the states before, it's just now that I actually did some observation.

I spent most of my day at work, so I got to see some really silly stuff. First of all, people went a little crazy with some of their outfits. I understand you want to wear a t-shirt with the flag, a bandana, or even a dress with the stars and stripes, that's all fine. However, if you wear a jacket with the flag on it, you will always make me think of the time Borat sang the anthem. I'm sorry, but it just looks ridiculous when you wear it. Stick to a hat that has the flag or something instead.

You look silly, bro! Just stick to the t-shirt.

Also something I've noticed is people here tend to get carried away sometimes with the number of flags they have on their lawn. Are they somehow playing Minesweeper with that many American flags? Perhaps someone there is trying to impress a fellow patriot down the street. And if they did hook up, just thinking on the patriotic roleplay they would do only takes an intimate moment and would turn it into the strangest thing ever. Trust me, nobody wants to see a couple dress up as Abe Lincoln and the Statue Of Liberty as they try to get down and freaky.
I don't know, but that's why I'm assuming they have so many flags on the lawn. Perhaps the Minesweeper idea is most logical here. At least, I hope it's that.

Please, let it be just that.

And as I await the sun to set so I can see some fireworks, it makes me think. Holy crap! This holiday seems bigger than Christmas, New Years, the release of a Twilight movie (only for confused teenagers), and bacon all combined! And you gotta admit, it's hard to beat bacon!
So happy 4th to everyone out there! Have some fun out there. Hope you enjoyed this strange trip through my mind. It's amazing what random things I can think about during a 9-hour shift. Oh well, on to see the fireworks.

Safety First, Accidents Later

Out of all the things my freshman year of college taught me, one of them was to not depend on a car to get to where I wanted. I had a mountain bike I rode to college as my main mode of transportation. Well, it was either that or walking. Besides, I lived on the other side of town, so it was a little over 10 minutes of travel (on bike). Either way, I was starting to get known for being one of the few people who biked their way to campus.

Riding dorky, but with class!

And of all those things I was known for, one of them was the helmet hair. Back then, I actually had a certain amount of hair to make helmet hair feasible. So when people saw me, they knew I came on my bike. And with that comes the other characteristic that made people look at me funny. I was the only one who actually used a helmet. Nobody dared to wear a helmet. I don't know why, but I guess they feared they might look like little kids, perhaps. I didn't care, because I wanted to be safe.
Side note: I always chained my bike once I parked it, but I never did so with my helmet because nobody ever bothered to even glance at it. Never got stolen, so it kind of made me laugh since it was never chained to the bike.

Should have gotten a "hairmet" to help with my hair issues.

That added precaution made my new college friends joke around with me regarding my bike safety. They all jokingly said that at some point or another, I was gonna get hit by a car, despite my precautionary measures.
So a few weeks later, it actually happened.

As I was traveling across the sidewalk, I happen to slip on a couple of rocks and smacked the back of a car with the left side of my body. Nothing happened to the car, but I did happen to lose my balance and injured myself. I tried to use my right foot to try and stop myself from falling, but as usual, I slipped on some remaining pebbles and sprained my ankle. But the fun didn't stop there. I also injured my right wrist as I somehow tried to stop myself from landing on the road. Yeah, that didn't work either.

I quickly stood up and got back on the sidewalk as a car was approaching down the lane. It didn't bother to stop though. Despite being injured and having sprained my ankle, the adrenaline kicked in and I managed to peddle my way to campus. However, as soon as I chained my bike and took my helmet off (revealing my always embarrassing helmet hair), I realized my right ankle was in horrible pain.

What just happened?

So I hopped my way to class. And yes, I was late. Once I stepped into the classroom, everyone stood in shocked silence. The fact that I forgot to brush off the debris from my clothes made it look like I was in a serious wreck. I apologized to the professor for being late and explained the whole accident. I sat down and looked at my classmates as they tried to recover from the shock.
"Who knew? I actually did get hit by a car! Good thing none of you said truck," I joked.

I don't know about you, but that's how you make an entrance.