Work Crap

So I'm back in the San Francisco office today, where I go once per week in order to avoid the one hour commute (each way) to our offices in Palo Alto. I mentioned previously that on one occasion I was forced to share an office for a couple of hours with a woman who was doused with old lady perfume. Fortunately I manage to extricate myself from the office without any hurt feelings.

Me: "Hey there [ insert name ], I'm going to go get some coffee but I'll be right back. Do you want anything?"
Her: "No, I'm good. But are you sure you don't want to leave your laptop and all your belongings?"
Me: "Uhh, gotta run."

Since then I've specifically chosen to sit in different shared offices in order to avoid the perfume cropdusting. Today, I'm in the office adjacent to hers. Unfortunately, the odor wafts out her office door and somehow finds its way to where I am sitting. Either that or the overpowering smell is somehow forcing its way through the shared wall in order to poison me. I swear, the stuff has a mind of its own.

UPDATE: She just came in this office to ask me a work question. Ack. I am seriously considering abandoning all acceptable social conventions and wearing one of those surgical masks whenever I'm here. Hopefully it's more acceptable that I try to pass for "quarantined" as opposed to "nauseated."

Dear God, It's Me David James ....

You know it's been a long time since you've blogged when you can't remember your own blog address. Seriously, I should be fired from this job. Oh wait, I'm not paid. Yet. Never mind.

I won't post again about the cool aspects of my new job because, quite frankly, it's not that interesting and is repetitious (as most of this blog is, I guess). I will return to work snark, since most people can relate and, quite frankly, I am better at snarkiness than sycophantic commentary.

So I've started to work one day a week from the San Francisco office, which is huge because there is very little commute involved and the city is great. Nothing against Palo Alto, but it's not like I work near the cool area and there are only so many times that I can go to the same taqueria for lunch.

So I'm working from San Francisco, where we share a floor with some other tenants. Actual office space is at a premium and everyone shares offices, so I don't have any reserved or exclusive space based on my periodic visits.

This morning I had a conference call which began at 8:30 and, as always, I got to the office minutes beforehand. Scrambling to find some space other than the kitchen to take the call, the receptionist opened one of the shared offices and assured me that the people had been out all week.

As is always my luck, one of the true office holders shows up about 30 minutes into the call. Since all the offices are shared, it's not a big deal and we each settle into our own work areas.

I go back to focusing on my call when I start to notice that my office worker is wearing perfume. A lot of it. And it's not a soft, subtle perfume. Rather, it's a fairly potent old lady perfume which, evidently, is sold by the pint. It's a cross between Bloomingdale's fragrance section and a convalescent home.

Bless her heart, she's a very nice person but I find myself getting somewhat dizzy by the fumes. And every time she moves even slightly, the odor quickly spreads again through the 8'x10' office. Ugh.

I keep holding the coffee cup up to my face, pretending to take a sip but I'm really using it as a masking agent. It's akin to how drug smugglers use coffee beans to throw off drug-sniffing dogs by disguising the scent of cocaine, except in this case it's keeping me from going blind. Oh well, if I never post again you all will know what happened to me.

It's not me, it's her.

Tuesday Work Musings

So I have a short break between insanely early morning meetings, which gives me a chance to write a quick update about my new job.

So far, I love my new job. The people I work with are professional, polite and smart. Very smart. I work mostly with researchers and scientists, and these people are ridiculously smart and talented. To the point where I am starting to believe that I am the dumbest person at my job. They'll start talking about some crazy technology or licensing issues, and I know that my face conveys that I am a total idiot in comparison. I swear, even the receptionist knows more about patents than me.

This is in stark comparison to the folks I used to work with in my old job, some of whom I am confident were borderline retarded. Because of that, it doesn't feel like I've used my brain much the past couple of years. In comparison, I've already learned a ton of new stuff here, which is great. The subject matter is new and the environment in which I am learning is almost academic, which is appropriate since much of my work is dealing with universities.

I know, I know. Many jobs start off great and then tail off. But so far, so good. And it's nice not to have a narcissistic, insecure, bipolar asshole screaming at you for not reading his mind.

Happy Wednesday

So working for a Finnish-based company, you often time have conference calls at odd times -- 6:00 a.m., 10:00 p.m. and the like. It's not a big deal because I can take them from home, as I do tonight where we are having our bi-weekly group call. The bad side is that Wednesday night is also rugby night, which is also a drinking night ... and then it's a conference call night ... and ..., well, you get the idea.

You would be proud of me, though. Tonight, I was very disciplined. I went to rugby practice, had a post-practice beer and headed home to get some dinner before my 10:00 call.

Until the point in time when I thought "well it would be a shame to eat dinner without a glass of wine."

And then I was like "well, my call is starting in 15 minutes, I'd better level off my glass since this call is going to last a hour."

Well as you can guess, David James was feeling pretty good during his call. Damn good, in fact, and the call was going fine, until I was suddenly asked "so what's going on with you, David James?"

Now normally I'm not so great when I'm put on the spot. It's even worse when I'm totally blindsided, I've had a couple of drinks, not to mention the fact that I am desperately trying to update this blog at the same time I sit on the call.

In my head I thought, "Jesus people, I have a world-wide blog audience that I am trying to satisfy here, folks. Stop harshing my mellow with all the work questions!!"

And what I said was more along the lines of "sure, let me update folks on the call about my current projects. Right now, I'm working on ...."

There are times when I want to shoot myself. This would be one of them.

Happy Wednesday / Thursday / whatever day you read this ...

Holy Shit, A New Post!

Since it's been at least a week since my last post (I don't even want to look at the date), it must mean that it's time for the obligatory post to let people know that I am still alive and well, despite my advanced age and insane amount of travel the past two weeks. I've been derelict in my writing duties, with most of my otherwise free time lost to my new job which requires me to focus during the day time (as well as drive to every day). The carefree days of working from home and focusing more on my Wii bowling score than my personal grooming are a thing of the past, boys and girls. Goodbye midday grilled cheese sandwiches and work wardrobe consisting of shorts and t-shirts. Hello collared shirts and non-Nike shoe apparel. Oh well. On the plus side, they have a fully stocked fridge, ample caffeine and free working lunches twice a week.

So far, I *really* like my job. I won't say "love," because that special word is reserved for truly special things, like unicorns and Scarlett Johansson. But I think that I'm going to really enjoy working here. The people are very nice and professional, and extremely smart. To the point where I wonder if I am the dumbest person working for the company. I'm not insecure by nature, but I sometimes wonder how I lucked out and got this job. It's insanely better than my last job. I'm learning new things each day and am actually using my brain for the first time in years it seems. So far, so good.

[ Editor's note - for the eight people that regularly read this blog, please make sure to bookmark today's entry for future reference when David James posts his umpteenth comment about how crazy his company is and how longs for a new job. We're putting the over/under at 20 months. ]

Dear Audience, It's Me Margaret

So if a blog in the forest isn't posted to, does it make a sound?

It's been a loooong time since I've posted and a bunch of stuff has happened over the past two weeks:

* I finally finished up at my old job.
* While I was on vacation in between jobs, I caught some sort of bird flu/SARS/Ebola virus, which totally laid me out. Its been a long time since I've been this sick, which is now on its 9th day. At times I doubted I would live to make it to 40 (which is right around the corner).
* I bought a new car and otherwise spent way too much money.
* I started my new job this past Tuesday, and so far, it's a vast improvement over the past job. Employees like their jobs, my boss is nice and normal, and the work is interesting. Throw in ample amounts of free caffeine and it's pretty idyllic. I'm sure I will soon loath the commute, but for now it's manageable.
* I head to Finland on Sunday for 2 weeks of meetings and training.
* In between those 2 weeks, I will fly back to New York for my annual birthday weekend. Drunklairity to ensue.

So that's basically it in a nutshell. I'm still getting acclimated at work, but I will actually have the time and health to post more frequently. Jesus, I've just got to believe there will be some decent content as a result of my 40+ hours of flying that's scheduled over the next two weeks. And it can't be any worse than the past two weeks.

Éirinn go brách!

Geez, where were we? Oh yeah, I quit this past Friday. I took the advice of Kate, DerekB and others and decided to take the high road when I resigned. I was pretty nervous about giving notice, but it went just fine and we were both gracious and said the right things. My last day is supposed to be next Tuesday but it feels like I've stopped working already. Email is barely trickling in and I'm so mentally checked out that it's ridiculous.

The only down side was that I didn't really get a chance to celebrate on Friday because we had a 9:00 a.m. rugby game (which we ended up winning 85-0, photo of me being chased is below), so I had to take it easy that night. However, I intend to make up for that tonight as it's St. Patrick's Day.



Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona (Happy St. Patrick's Day to You)!

Blog It, Friendo

I would do a "Separated At Birth" with Javier Bardem (from "No Country or Old Men") and my boss ... but I'm too much of a chicken shit to post his actual photo. Give me a couple of weeks and I'll show you the staggering comparison, especially the hair which is identical. They also sync up nicely, personality-wise, based on the movie. It's fucking eerie.

The Final Countdown

My job consists of basically masking my contempt for the assholes in charge, and, at least once a day, retiring to the men's room so I can jerk off while I fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble Hell."
Kevin Spacey, "American Beauty"

I will be giving my resignation notice this Friday and I've been struggling a bit with what to say. Should I be honest about my opinion about my boss and what a psychotic, abusive prick he is? If so, I would draft my resignation letter a bit like this:

"Dear Human Resources,

It is with great joy and relief that I hereby submit my resignation effective March 25, 2008. While I have enjoyed working with many of the folks here at *****, my job has basically devolved into a lower level of hell while working for *** *** (a/k/a "The Bipolar Bear"). I would rather stick my hand in a wood chipper than ever work for this man again.

Regards,
David James"

Or do I just keep it simple and professional and exit gracefully? While I have no issues with burning bridges here such that you can see the smoke and embers for miles, I really don't think it will make any difference whatsoever. Everyone already knows he's an abusive asshole, I don't know that my reiteration is necessary (although it would be nice).

I'm really on the fence on this one so I would appreciate your suggestions.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Here it is boys and girls, my last work trip to St. Louis. Actually, I can say my last trip to Missouri ever because, having seen there multiple times, there's no way I would ever voluntarily go back and visit. I would charitably describe the state as an armpit. But what does St. Louis have to do with Torcher the lion dog? I have no idea. But he looks as bewildered as I will look happy when I get on the return flight to California on Tuesday. Fifteen days to resignation day.

Yesterday was Saturday. And Saturday is a rugby day. And with rugby days, bring injuries. The injury d'jour is my eye, which I managed to smash onto some guy's knee while I was kneeling on the ground. Silly me. The eye is swollen but the double vision has subsided. Still, I imagine that my eye is in way better shape than his knee. Should be fun times when the cabin pressure makes my eye swell up like a balloon. Can't wait.

Tales of my St. Louis follies to follow...

Here's The Deal

So I said I would post over the weekend -- and then, as always, I let down my readership (which is a cool term and implies that there are more than, say, six people reading this thing). No surprise there for those that have known me over the years. I am blond and from California, which makes me both dizzy and flaky, I guess.

Anyway, so here's the deal with the new job. I just accepted a position working for a large Scandinavian mobile devices company (whose name rhymes with "Mokia") supporting their research scientists and engineering groups. I know it sounds boring, but it's actually very cool, innovative product work that I would be working on (goodbye sales channel) and the people I've met with all seem very nice, normal and bright. I know, a stark contrast from my current situation where many of the people I work with couldn't spell "cat" if I spotted them the C and the A. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration but folks are definitely not splitting atoms at my company.

Anyway, I'm going to work on totally different projects, for a normal, respected company, and will even get to do some international travel. Next month I will go to Finland for two weeks, the dates I am still working on in order to make the annual New York birthday drunkfes ..., uhh, trip.

So the blog will change somewhat, as I won't be able to provide inane reports about my raving asshole boss, nor my thrilling sojourns to St. Louis. Goodbye Shit Louis, hello freezing Scandinavian country with 6 hours of sunlight in the winter. I'll still have crazy travel stories, but they'll involve people with funny accents and wooden shoes (that is Finland, right?).

By the way, enjoy this post while it lasts. I'm hesitant to discuss my new job, partly due to my innate paranoia that my bipolar boss will find out and fire me before my annual bonus is paid out (only 23 more days until March 14!) and partly due to my own equally irrational fear that I will somehow jinx things or wake up from my dream. But given that I met with them again today, saw where my office would be, ordered my computer and fancy new phone, I'm guessing that I only thing I really have to worry about is the BPB finding out and immediately firing me. I *know* the chance of that are remote, but he would totally do it if he found out. And if it did happen, the odds would be just as good that I would immediately fly to STL with a blowtorch and some pliers in order to go medieval on someone's ass. So let's just hope that doesn't happen so it doesn't put an unsightly blotch on my background check.

Omen-tastic Monday

So I just received two magazines in the mail -- the same day I had yet another phone interview -- and on the covers are the following articles:

"How To Ace Your Next Job Interview"
"It's Time To Break Up With Your Boss"

Now granted, I could have written the second article ("Dear Crazy Boss, fuck off. Sincerely, David James), but methinks that this is an omen.

I quickly scanned the first article, which was pretty normal fare. I think things went well, but then I thought that there was no way that Gore would lose to GW. I hope to god that I'm not so mistaken this time.

I'm Off..

... to meet with a prospective employer today. Wish me luck and hope that there are no questions like this during the meeting (warning: it has Richard Pryor in it, so there is some NSFW-ish language):


As an aside, I'm not sure if I should be more surprised that censors allowed this to Saturday Night Live skit to air 30 years ago or that there would be absolutely no way that this would make it on network TV today. Absolutely zero chance.

Rainy Day, Go Away ....

So Norther California is on day 110 of the rain watch. I write this fearing the day that the rain-soaked hills will give way and land a 100 foot redwood tree on top of my house. Or maybe, if I'm truly unlucky, my entire house will gently slide away down my street. I expect to wake up each morning and find myself living underwater, kind of like Atlantis or Water World (minus Kevin Costner's horrible acting).

Things are looking up on the job front. I had my review today which went well, although I'm sure it was aided by my boss' bipolar medicine. The reason I say that is that he was perfectly pleasant and made more creepy, insane statements. My favorite quotes from today "we both come from a caring and compassionate place" and "let me share something I learned from you."

This dude is Britney Spears delusional. I honestly don't know if he believes this shit or not, but I think he really does. Whatever, just keep popping the happy pills, my man, until I land that next big job. Meeting next week with another company, so keep your fingers crossed.

So Real Quick ...

This just in, David James' Second Christmas was canceled when he received an email early Tuesday morning indicating that his boss' planned trip to Europe had been canceled. It's not quite as depressing at the Scarlett Johansson engagement rumors, but it's a nice kick in the crotch nonetheless.

Other bits and pieces from the Three Dot BlogTM ...

* I'm not sure I can add anything to what's already been written about the sad passing of Heath Ledger. However, I did notice that our friends at the Westboro Baptist Chruch (which is famous for protesting the funerals of AIDS victims and American military) has spoken out on his passing and it's as respectful and as sentimental as you would have thought:


I *really* wish there was a heaven and hell as these right-wing, WBC fuckwits believe, simply because then I could rest easy knowing that they would spend the rest of eternity with the likes of Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin and Paris Hilton.

* Star magazine announced that Jamie Lynn spears will hand over her baby to her trainwreck mom Lynne to care for as soon as it is born so she can concentrate on her career. Lynne will then raise the child at the family’s home in rural Kentwood, Louisiana, away from Hollywood.

An insider told US magazine Star: "After several weeks of personal soul searching and talks and discussions with her mum Jamie Lynn reluctantly agreed that giving up the baby is the right thing to do. Lynne says Jamie doesn't understand the life long consequences of having a baby. She still wants her daughter to be able to be a teenager, go to parties, hang out with friends and have a career. So she’ll take the front seat of caring for the baby and take the pressure off her daughter."

So what's Lynne's first logical step as a soon-to-be parent? Start preparing the baby's nursery? Stock up on diapers and wipes? Start screening nannies?

Nope. According to the source, Lynne has agreed to have Jamie Lynn photographed with the baby as soon as it is born, sell the pictures and then take over raising her own grandchild.

How lovely. She has somehow figured out a way to financially exploit yet another member of the Spears family. You have to admire the parenting chutzpah. Well done Lynne Spears, well done. Enjoy your time in hell with those nice WBC folks.

My Second Christmas

I just found out that my boss will be out of the country this week and, get this, he announced that his cell phone won't work in Europe. Fucking awesome. So this week will be a week without work reportings (although the blog content might take a big hit) and I'll focus on happier things.

Like the fact that we will have a new president in one year's time. Sure, there's a slight chance that GW will do something wretched, like declare martial law and amend the Constitution to make himself president for life. Which isn't totally far-fetched after watching the last seven years. Since I've been old enough to vote, I've been witness to some truly awful presidents (although Clinton was great)-- Reagan, Bush Sr. and now GW. By my math, that's two terms of yeah and five terms of "fuck me." I'll save the longer political rant for later in the week, but I am very, *very* excited to be getting a new president. If you toss out Huckaby, I would probably prefer any active candidate in the race right now over what we have now. Seriously.

But you'd better check out all the candidates quickly, because South Carolina and Florida are coming up soon and it's do-or-die for certain candidates (Giuliani and Edwards, in particular). I usually keep nervous watch each election year, but this year I'm almost too afraid to look. I'm afraid that Hillary might get the nomination, thereby energizing the fuckwit right wing base. I'm afraid that Obama might really be a political lightweight. I'm afraid that Biden's plugs might come undone. And I'm really, *really* afraid that we're going to end up with another conservative nutjob who gets to replace ancient-ass Justice Stevens with some forty-something, right-wing freak who thinks that evolution is of the devil and that dinosaurs were planted by God in order to mislead the week-minded believers. I would rather let Britney Spears babysit my kids than see that happen.

Why I Need a New Job

In the ongoing series I like to call "Why I Need a New Job' (a/k/a "Why I Need to Get a Restraining Order Against My Insane Boss") I submit to you this actual quote from the other day:

"I think of you often on the weekends, more often than I should. I'm just worried I'm going to get the call some day that you were injured playing rugby and you're in a body cast."

Sweet lord in heaven, what person (other than a spouse or parent) would actually utter those words to another person? Not surprisingly, I was totally stopped dead in my tracks and caught without a witty response. I think I muttered something to the effect of "Uhh, thanks for the concern. I'm okay." But inside my head, I'm more like the Ving Rames character from "Pulp Fiction" -- I am pretty fucking far from okay.

Ahh, let the nightmare continue ....

(And yes Virginia, there is an ongoing job search)

Blog Hard

Happy belated Monday, boys and girls. I hope everyone had a good weekend; mine was low key filled with rugrats, rugby and recovery from said rugby game. Sadly, there are no photos from the game but let's just say I found mud in places I never knew existing. 'Nuff said.

Sunday was low key, mostly spending last night job searching and worrying that I may not be able to find a new job. I got close to landing a job I *really* wanted last summer and was somewhat stunned when I was unceremoniously dropped from consideration. I was pretty down about it and ended up halting my search, in part because I was bummed out over the rejection. Five months of the Bipolar Bear, though, has a funny way of motivating one to get the hell out. So what I'm worried about now is not just the rejection -- it's the fear of not being able to find anything interesting and new and, thus, being stuck at my current job in perpetuity. I will seriously depressed if I'm still there come April. Keep your fingers crossed, kiddos.

As an aside, congratulations to "OK Let Me Just Say This" for being recognized as having one of the best gay blogs in 2007. Congrats again Derek, just remember the little folks when you become the next Perez Hilton (just less annoying).

And in related news, "It's Not Me, It's You" was recently recognized as one of the top Scarlett Johansson-obsession related blogs out there. Excuse me while I pat myself on the back.

Yet Another Work Post

Here's a quick synopsis of my day so far:

6:30 - Wake up
7:15 - Wake up again
7:40 - Gulp down a pot of coffee
7:50 - Frantically start reading a document for a conference call
8:00 - Conference call (a/k/a Internet surfing) begins
8:35 - Send innocuous note to my boss
9:00 - Conference call ends
9:15 - My boss calls me and totally lays into me for something he perceives that I screwed up
9:18 - I give up defending myself and wait for his lecture to end
9:25 - Berating mercifully ends
9:30 - Start searching monster.com

Jesus, I know it's only noon, but is it too early to drink? It's happy hour somewhere, isn't it?

Wednesday Night Musings

It's 10:30 p.m. as I write this and I have a call scheduled in seven hours. Fuck. Me. It's too early to go to sleep now because I'm too wired and nervous about potentially oversleeping. Conversely, it's too late to go to the rave or hang out with the supermodels. What's a boy to do? I guess I'll instead work on my memoirs, which are tentatively entitled either "It's Not Me, It's Still You" or "Harry Potter and The Fabblegrub Gang." I figure the last one would immediately sell a million books if I can crank our 900+ pages of text, but there's that pesky copyright issue to deal with. Oh well, I'll have plenty of time to think about it on my 5:30 a.m. call. Wheee!