Boo.

hrushoes [12122008 - 10192009]

Reading: Batman and Philosophy

Listening: Elvis Costello – Everyday I Write the Book

If soggy Christmas lights are a barometer for anything, I’d say the weather for today is soggy, with a healthy smattering of holiday cheer.  It’s been a while since I’ve written anything about what’s been going on, so I’d best write about the last two weeks.  It also gives me a neat excuse to use the word “fortnight.”

Two Interviews

If you break the word “interview” to its roots, you’d find that, (according to The Free Dictionary) inter means “to bury,” while view pretty much means what you’d expect it to stand for: “a systematic survey/field of vision/to examine or inspect.”

Then again, that’s looking at “inter,” as “in-ter/to inter,” and not “inter” like between two things, in this case, between “views.”

This current unemployment is my “The Empire Strikes Back” — I’d be mastering the force before striking back at the empire … of work.  I’m down for the year — who knows what I’ll be doing by 2009?  (Or, if you want to get technical, next, next week?)

Anyway, the first one was on the 12th.  A company in Ortigas (Tycoon Center) called me up for an interview, since they saw my resumé in one of those job sites.  My asking price and preferred location for work is in my online profile, and they still decided to call up — how could it go wrong?  — right?

Cheekie tells me that the company has several bad reviews.  I still went anyway.  While most of the Makati-dwelling office-workers have decided to stay indoors because of a rally, I was on my way out of the house.

They did specify that I should bring a soft AND hard copy of my picture and resumé — “bring hard&soft copy of ur resume wid pic”  — (textspeak, an ominous portent, of which I still chose to ignore)  I called ‘em up again to confirm, and had the guy say that all I needed was a hard copy.  I brought one, but still didn’t have a picture on it.  (My last pre-present-revision resumé still has my 16-year-old mug plastered on it.)

Went in at ’round 11 during the drizzly morning.  I darted into the building like I worked there — I had a tie and everything!  I didn’t have to leave identification.  (Because I didn’t bring any.)  I met the girl I had to look for, and she pointed me over to the testing area.  I was given 35 minutes to complete a digital application form and answer a few questions.  They probably didn’t believe in clearing textbox history, so in some parts of the exam, Firefox would auto-complete boxes for me.  Not that I didn’t know the answer, only that I was able to see the previous applicants’ answers!  It took 10 minutes.

I was out and about, strolling ’round their offices while humming the Triple H entrance theme.  Turns out I didn’t pay attention to instructions again and had left out my entire information page blank.  I filled it up; — but, as it turns out, the last part of the application is uploading the soft copies of the CV and a photo.  Without both, the application form wouldn’t be able to close.  I let them worry about it and was pointed over to the waiting area.

My interviewer was having lunch, so I had time to walk around their office some more.  (Why was no one stopping me, lol?)  I looked up and noticed four bulbs directly above me — while in front of me, I saw four lightswitches.  I flicked ‘em on-and-off-and-then-on again.  The cubicles got dark.  Like getting caught in Metal Gear Solid, I had just placed a giant exclamation mark atop my head — everyone in their cubicle was looking over at my direction, since I was the only one there.  I waited some more.

The interviewer girl finally got in, I chant some more Triple H music.  I was asked several questions, answered them as best I could, and finally, I was being asked which shift I preferred.  I bowed out, and asked if they even read my online resumé.  I have no desire to ever go back to an office environment — unless the pay is THAT good, to have to endure the daily blessings of traffic and the weather, “no thanks!” — but that rant’s for another post, methinks.  I left for an old officemate’s birthday treat.  I also bought a new pair of shoes.  (Fun with the labeler.)

The last interview was the 18th.  I was an hour late, not that they noticed, since everyone waited a couple of hours to get their interviews.  I got into a conversation with the couple beside me.  Turns out I was applying in a call center.  They had signs that read, “British English-only zone.”

I was preparing my “in-doooo-bitablee, bloody, sod, daft” during cigarette breaks.  Turns out I wasn’t what they were looking for.  (Willing to go on mid-shifts — that’s afternoon-to-midnight to you)  I left for a mini-get-together.

The Get-Together, The MCA Thing and The Bicycle Thief

I did forget to mention: by the time of the get-together, I’ve been into Fallout 3 … in a big way.  I had just finished it earlier — well, the main quests anyway, so I might replay that.

There’ve been several attempts by my former workmates (the ones who ate lunch with me most frequently) to meet up, but schedules were always off.  So it happened.  (ChefTonio wasn’t there, but yeah, family first, yow.)

Expressed my disdain for relationshit talk (well, about other people anyway) by zoning out.  I say this now, but several posts about relationshits haunt me.  Cheekie did ask me to tag-along to that MCA thing, plus, she tells me my friend Andi would be there.

I romanticize the notion of bicycle theft too much.  When people ask what I did for a living, my answer for that night was throwing out, “bicycle thief.” I think there was a point that I was in a conversation with someone from the radio — hope the “bicycle thief” bit didn’t make it to broadcast.

Oh, yeah, did I mention?  I did get tipsy (or drunk) that night.  I had conversations that I couldn’t remember — the whole lot of which described back to me as being a “raving lunatic.”  I do remember, however, that I didn’t get to see Arnel Pineda.

I pleaded with the cab driver to take me home and not kidnap me.

The IT Crowd

Been watching this since last week — and has been enjoying it massively.  I think this may have also affected the “British” accent interview.  Lucy Montgomery guest-stars in one of the recent episodes.  Just saying.

Music

I’ve been listening to a lot of MGMT, M83, Cut Copy and Elvis Costello lately.  Check ‘em out.

Hrudu’s Ham Sandwich

Spawned out of necessity one Christmas morning several years ago, it’s that special time of the year that I get to eat it again.  (Well this season has all the necessary ingredients, and technically, it’s no sandwich.)

Anyhow, I woke up late one Christmas day — too late, in fact, that there was no more bread in the house, so I had to make do with what was at the table.  I grabbed two slices of ham, placed a slice of cheese in the middle, and added some maple syrup … just because — and enjoyed.

I don’t know if it was the mess, or the ham, or the cheese, or the maple syrup, but I love eating that non-sandwich sandwich.  Then again, it might be the umami of the glutamate in the cheese.

*

Several other things did occur, but those’re the ones I’m keeping to myself.  Oh, yeah, there’s this holiday thing too — Merry Christmas!  Bring umbrellas!