I'm Unemployed... Damn!

Today, I walked into the golf shop, fully intending to put in a substantially-less-than-two-weeks notice of my impending departure, only to be fired summarily before I got the chance. Not only was I fired, but I was also barred from the property, and my package from Amazon.com that arrived was refused (this is by far the most grievous offense). Why? Honestly, I don't have a good reason. While I am one who likes to initiate a good bridge burning and regret it later, I have to say that I was entirely magnanimous throughout the entire situation, doing everything I could to try to leave on good terms. The only reason I was going to put in a less-than-two-week notice was because my sources on the inside told me this was coming, so I was trying to preempt this ensuing mess. I failed.

Throughout this whole ordeal, I was basically treated like some "oxford-cloth psycho [who] might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers," regardless of the fact that they knew I took a better job (it was discussed in a frank, open, and friendly manner less than 20 hours earlier), and had already told them that I was leaving, and I quote myself here, "at a date within the next month that is most convenient for you." Apparently, that day was today. While I can't say I'm not frustrated with the whole situation (I actually liked the people I worked for until this and wanted to leave on good terms), the whole thing just strikes me as incredibly petty, and incredibly hilarious. Rather than just say, "Hey, actually, we really don't need you anymore, you can stop today, and good luck with everything in the future," they chose to make an issue over my "lack of interest in *** Golf Club and my inattention to its members and guests," (a charge we both know is bogus) and then give me ten minutes to grab my things and vacate the property. Totally uncalled for, and the absolute hardest way to go about it.

In conclusion, I no longer wanted to be a golf professional because of the accompanying petty bullshit, so, this petty bullshit makes perfect sense. I'll be on my way to join the khakistocracy now...

Apparently, I Did Hit Bottom

What do this guy and I have in common? Giant... smiles. I was extended an offer just a few hours ago to start work as a market research analyst for a brand new company located in a midwestern city bordering a lake, and no, it isn't Seattle. I'll give you a hint, Stephen Kellogg is on record stating that prettiest girls live here. Anyway, I obviously accepted although I have not determined a start date yet. A couple of things complicating this: I'm required to stay employed as a golf professional until roughly the middle of November to get my PGA card (most likely not happening), I'm quasi-signed into a condo lease until December (I haven't signed anything, but certain oral contracts are binding, I'm in the process of figuring out my liability here), and my future roommate in Cleveland is out in California until December. Furthermore, I have more crap than can fit in my truck, and I don't think I have any clothes suited for temperatures less than 50 degrees. In conclusion, I'm freaking pumped.

Addendum: On a sadder note, having a job that requires me to work will limit my blogging. However, it won't be like I'm the only person who neglects it...

"Only From Disaster Can We Be Resurrected"

The past week (Friday through Friday) has seen me travel some 6000 miles, sleep for less than 35 hours, consume fewer than 4000 calories (Sunday-Friday) resulting in a loss of 7-10 lbs of body weight , experience the rapid rise-plunge-rise-plunge of both testosterone and seratonin levels, and listen to endless hours of Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers. Basically, the last seven days has condensed a wealth of human experience and emotion down into a few poignant moments wedged between endless time stalking airport corridors and somnambulist passing of mile markers. Personally, I think I'm at the end of a long period of "dismantlement", where the person I thought I was and what I've thought I've believed has been show to be false in a lot of ways, so I'd like to think I've turned a corner in some sense. I've realized that I feel ways about things, which is weird, scary, and oddly refreshing. I'm not going to be anymore specific, because I'm not sure how this is going to pan out, and I'd rather not feel compelled to delete this post later. So, outside of that, here is last week's rundown:

• Spent a few days in West Palm Beach, Fl hanging out, freaking out, and airing it out, respectively. I defied death numerous times, from watching electrical storms on the roof of a twenty story building, to almost drowning while snorkeling out in front of The Breakers. How did I almost drown? In a nutshell, spending time building fast-twitch muscle fibers has limited use in paddling through pounding surf, and an over-whelming fear of drowning (most likely caused by my general incompentence in the skill of swimming) leads to panicked breathing when I fail to successfully eject all the water in my snorkel. In my defense, I'm more scared of looking like a pansy than I am of drowning, and the water was really cloudy and murky, so I don't think anyone saw me tear off my mask numerous times and frantically paddle my way to the surface.
• After catching the red-eye (a delayed red-eye at that) back to Newport News, VA and driving back to the beach Monday night (arriving at my house for a few sweet hours of sleep before running into work), I spent the day frantically putting together a PowerPoint presentation for my job interview on Thursday. Taking off Wednesday morning, I found out while confirming my intinerary for the interview in the airport in Atlanta that a PowerPoint was unnecessary, so I attempted to redact my whole presentation to be strictly auditory at around 34,000 ft somewhere over Appalachia. The presentation was later described as "adequate." Yes!
• Saw my brother up in Pittsburgh Wednesday night, ate two pieces of Stuffed Crust pizza and a couple of breadsticks (the closest thing to a meal since Saturday night), and battled out about five hours of sleep before getting up at 4:30 AM, taking a shower, choking down half a yogurt, and hauling ass over to Cleveland for my 9:00 interview. From my perspective, the interview went as well as it could have for me having little (ie: nothing) in the way of relative experience of education, and we'll (ie: I'll) know within a week if I got by on my good looks and charm. I'm feeling optimistic, but not so optimistic as to sign the lease on my Lambo...

"When the doors on this Diablo raise, I'm going to have the front of your crib looking like Diablo's doorways..."

Culture Warrior

I was flipping through channels last night, and paused on Bill O'Reilly while waiting for the lead-in to Hannity and Colmes (which I stopped watching once the feature piece was on Rosie O'Donnell saying Christians are as dangerous as muslims) and I saw a plug to visit Bill O'Reilly's website and take the test to see if I'm a culture warrior! So, I did, and apparently, I am.

Why am I a culture warrior? Because I answered five incredibly stupid questions. Questions like, "Do you believe America is harmful to the world?" or "Would it be unfair to rank the following in terms of evil power (in lowest to highest): Darth Vader, Al Gore, Stalin, Al Sharpton, Cindy Sheehan?" or "Do you think Nancy Pelosi should be able to give post-natal abortions by waiting in the nursery with a machete?" Answering no to any of these makes you a "culture warrior!" So, at least I have that...

- incidentally, the "discussion" between David Limbaugh, Bob Beckel, and the Hannity/Colmes duo consisted of mainly this (most accurate if read aloud yelling):

Limbaugh: "Democrats disparage Christians!"
Colmes: "Which Democrats? How can you implicate an entire party based on quotes by three or four people?"
Limbaugh: "Read my book! Page 97-104!"
Colmes: "We're on TV, how about you just tell us?"
Beckel: "I'm a born again Christian! Six years! Stop bringing my Christ into your politics!"

Finally, I think we all need to hope that I won't be too heavily evalutated based on my current ability to do the job I'm being interviewed for, but rather more heavily on my potential ability to do said job, if someone can show me how to do it first. Most appropriate analogy: Would you draft Brent Barry if his playing resume consisted of- "Won two of three games of HORSE in gym class?"

"You cannot wield it!"

Blog Neglect

This blog has been neglected of late, and it won't be changing at least for a couple of weeks. I'm flying up to Cleveland next Thursday, to give a presentation to a company that will hopefully land me a job earning me some serious loot. So, unless you know something about financial modeling and can clue me in, don't complain that I haven't been blogging detailing my latest bowel movement or why I fall asleep every night thinking of Kate Beckinsale. Just know that I do both.

Incontinence

I was bored at work today, so to complement the time spent reading Stalin, I decided to see how many 20 oz. bottles of Dasani water I could drink in thirty minutes. The answer is six (for today), and judging by the absolute transparency of my urine, I'm fully hydrated.

Also, I had an interesting argument with the Redness about the actual meaning of incontinence. I argued that it was the inability to exercise proper fluid dynamics, and he postulated that it was a much more solid problem. We were both right, amazing.

Finally, the time spent waiting between initial interviews and follow-up calls is probably the most excruciating thing I've experienced, short of a vise grip to the sciatic nerve. Especially when it is a job I actually want, and more money than I can spend is on the line...

"Could I buy one of these? Possibly, but I'd lose it in the lake effect snow..."

Steve Irwin- 6241, Wildlife- A Very Big 1

For the most part, I really can't care less about the deaths of people I've never met, but when I heard that Steve Irwin was killed by a sting ray this morning at the gym, I was actually kind of stunned, probably more stunned than when the Space Shuttle exploded or when the Twin Towers came down (a space shuttle explosion and terrorist attacks are well, within the range of things I can expect to happen, whereas The Crocodile Hunter being killed by a relatively docile animal isn't). Granted, my life isn't going to change at all, and it isn't like I've watched his show in years, but I'm still a little disappointed. Stupid freaking stingray.