Kiefer Sutherland Interview 10.30.08

My first real interview, and it was freaking Jack Bauer.
One of the coolest people I've ever had the privilege of chatting with. What a nice guy. And it was so cool to see how enthusiastic he is about the bands he's signed.

Afterward, I received a nice, big 24 Redemption promo poster which I proudly display in my office/bedroom.
p.s. I sound like I'm 12 year's old & have a jaw breaker stuck in my throat because I'm nervous.

Mama Needa da Chedda.

I've been hitting the ol' job search pretty hot and heavy lately and it's proving to be fairly...interesting. Mainly, I'm looking at receptionist gigs because I'm trying to integrate real-life people into my day-to-day, not to mention the sun. Haven't seen it in awhile. It still exists, right?

The two main places I peruse for job listings are Craigslist.com and the Herald-Times online. CL is becoming a bit of a joke at this point, though. Don't get me wrong, "Phone Fantasy Operator" actually sounds like a really fun job, and I wouldn't kick the $300-$400 a week paycheck out of bed (so to speak), but knowing my luck I'd recognize the bloke's voice on the other end. Or worse yet, they'd recognize mine.

There is one receptionist opening I applied for on CL. It seemed legit. Required basic skills in Microsoft Word, Excel, attention to detail, etc. But here's how they replied to my email:

"Thanks for the interest! Excellent Resume! You may be a bit over-qualified for this position, however, if you are just looking for some easy part-time work to receive the extra income you desire, this will be great! The position is a Quality Reviewer. You will be doing online shopping, filling out Jobs and receiving products/services from our clients. Later, you will summarize and review your experience. You are fully compensated and reimbursed--IN ADVANCE--for any purchases made, along with your salary: $10 an hour."

...so, what part of "part-time receptionist" did I misread? Don't get me wrong, being paid to try out free products and services sounds great! Almost too good to be true, in fact. I did a little research and discovered that the BBB has no record of "Quality Reviewers" (actually, they never give an actual company name, even on their website) and that many people who do participate in secret shopping have trouble with the whole "being reimbursed in advance" part...or being reimbursed at all. Apparently, they're as flexible with that statement as they are with, "Hey, we need a part-time receptionist."

Anyway, I guess I'll just have to keep my ear to the grindstone and my nose to the ground.

Maybe I should write idioms for a living...

-Erin.

My Preemptive Strike on the World was Born in 1962.

I went to dinner with my family last night. More specifically, my older sister & brother and mother (...who is also older). I'm very close with my family, or as close as we can be to each other. We're not real mushy, gushy people. That's one of the things I love about us. That, and our relentless sarcasm.

One of my siblings' and my favorite things to do when we're around each other is talk about our mom. She's an incredible character in our life movie. No writer, no matter how creative and witty could ever hope to dream up a spirit as original as our mother. She's a million stereotypes in one yet she still manages to break her own mold every day.

She has told us numerous times that the Peanuts character Peppermint Patty is her as a cartoon. We've tried to explain to her that Patty is rumored to be in a "less than straight" relationship with Marcie (not that there's anything wrong with that), but our mother refuses to believe it.

"Peanuts is a sweet cartoon!" she'll say.

Apparently, my mother's only exposure to the "female gays" is Rosie O'Donnell.

On my 21st birthday, her advice to me was, "drink until you feel good."
Not "drink responsibly," or "don't drink," but "drink until you feel good." Knowing alcoholism runs in the family, I suppose she was merely accepting that I was going to drink excessively and wanted to share what she had found worked best to avoid vomiting.

Anytime she prepares a meal and the family has sat down to enjoy it, she does what my siblings and I have come to call her "preemptive strike on criticism."

Before a single morsel of steak, or mouthful of mashed potatoes has been raised from our plates to our months she quickly states,

"The potatoes are a little lumpy. And the steak is probably a tad burnt."

She is an amazing cook, just not great with promoting her product. We always end up reassuring her that her meals are in fact, delicious and (at least in my case) the best we've had all week.

After a night of hearing how chewy the pasta in the lasagna place before us was, my brother finally said, "I'm gonna take your word for it, Mom. Let's throw this crap out and order pizza."

We've eaten out more on our "family nights" ever since.

My mother has made me laugh, comforted me, let me down, and pissed me off. She's played drums in a band, built a slip'n'slide using nothing but a tarp and industrial-sized pipes (what she dubbed "Wacky Water World"), resuscitated a goldfish with a straw, and backed into my brother's 3000 GT 3 times.

She can annoy and inspire me at the same time, and everyday I realize how much I'm becoming her although others have said they don't "see it."

By the way, this blog is a bit long and dry. You don't have to leave a comment.

-ErMaster.

One Crazy Stronza.

Ah, here it is! The first Turn Off Your Blog Blog.

It's about 6:15am on a Tuesday and I'm sitting in my room listening to a cool independent station out of Nashville, TN. I'm trying to keep the volume low, lest I wake up my roommate and her "dog." I use quotes there, because I'm not completed convinced the thing is a normal animal of any kind. Actually, I'm pretty sure she's a minion of Satan.

She's a Jack Russell Terrier or, as I like to call her, a Jack Russell Terror. Her name is Bella, which must be some kind of sick joke my roommate is playing on the world. "Bella" roughly means "beautiful" in Italian. Perfectly fine name, but it's not the first impression Bella tends to leave. "Stronza" would have been a more appropriate name but I understand, it doesn't roll off the tongue as well.

I've actually begun calling her "Stronza." The roomie doesn't ask about it so I don't volunteer an explanation.

What I find fascinating and maddening about Stronza, is that she has this horrible habit of biting the hand that feeds her, literally. As well as the feet, legs, backside and face of the very person who is responsible for keeping her alive and happy. And frankly, the only person who loves her enough to keep her from "accidentally" playing in traffic.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love animals! I'll admit, I'm a cat person, but I love dogs just fine. What I don't like are dogs whose owners allow them be violent for seemingly no reason.

One day, I was talking to my roommate in her room. Stronza kept jumping in my lap with a rubber toy and growling viciously.

"That's her play growl." My roommate assured, "You have to learn her different growls."

Learn her different growls? That's like a beaten wife saying, "The bruises are just warnings. He breaks the skin when he's serious."

Noting that Stronza was in a playful mood, I began throwing her toy down the stairs in an attempt to play indoor fetch. After a few minutes, I got wrapped up in my conversation with the roommate and inadvertently ignored Stronza's "playful" growls.

Finally, she attacked my shin. It wasn't the first time I'd seen her do it, as the previous week she'd attacked a male friend of my roommate's. After witnessing it I noted to not leave my room without protection, so when she pulled the move on me I was wearing jeans and suede boots. She only managed to grab a mouthful of fabric in her attempt to teach me a lesson. My roommate yelled at Stronza and threw her off of me.

"Was that a playful growl?" I asked.

"No. She does that sometimes if you stop playing with her."

"Have you ever thought about obedience training?"

"Yea. But I can't afford it."

"Can you afford a lawsuit?"

Ok, so I didn't actually say the last line out loud, but I thought it. Thought it real good.

When my friends come over and meet this beast I speak of from time to time, they always have the same reaction. It's as if I've told great tales of a ferocious monster, standing 8 feet tall, wreaking of sulfur and gaining strength from the sorrow of orphans. Then they meet this adorable (their words, not mine), helpless Jack Russell Terrier.

I will just say this: it's all an act. She has it down to a "T" and has fooled many people with her big, brown eyes. But not me. And she knows it...yea, she knows it. Sometimes we have staring contests. It's my way of showing her how little I fear her.

Think I'm crazy? You have no idea.

Welcome to Turn Off Your Blog.

-ErMaster.