Thus revealed, the creature buried its nose in the tire-tilled soil...
February 26, 2008
I am the worst interviewee in the world.
Category: Travels

Seriously. I think I look pretty darned good on paper, but then I get into interviews and blow them so badly that the hiring organizations don't even bother to contact me to tell me that I didn't get the job -- they just repost the classified ad and only let me know when I write to find out about the (fairly obvious, but still) status of my application.

Anyway, I mention this because I had an interview last Friday that was flipping brutal. I'm not sure how appropriate it is to mention many of the details in an online forum -- what I was applying for, specifics of the interview, etc. -- but let's just say that I felt like the lead interviewer essentially called me an ignorant American and at one point told me that I'd given a terrible response to a specific question. It was the kind of interview where I almost wish I'd flipped out, cursed everyone relentlessly, and maybe even tossed in a few German suplexes for good measure. Yeah, that kind of ferocity isn't really in my nature -- and I certainly wouldn't have gotten the job unless I'd been applying to the UFC competition (which I wasn't) -- but I a) wouldn't be worried about whether I got the job (which, amazingly, I'm still hoping for at this point despite the utterly abysmal nature of the interview) and b) could have walked out of that room with my pride intact. As it was, I felt utterly emasculated when it was over.

If I did anything right at all during the interview, I think it was that I probably came across as wholly docile and non-threatening -- which may be good considering that half of the interview consisted of the interviewers telling me how reviled and potentially feared I would be in the position owing to the color of my skin. I guess there were other parts of it that may not have been completely terrible. I got a chuckle out of my mention of octopus-flavored ice cream, even if I did choke on the word "octopus". I probably choked on more words that I don't precisely recall -- I know I choked on my words at least five times while saying goodbye to another interviewee with whom I had the pleasure of chatting during the bus/metro ride to and from the interview. Yep -- my Smoothest Dude Ever Award is in the mail.

I may have accrued some positive karma points, though -- and not just because the interview went so terribly, either. At the bus stop en route to the interview, this old woman happened to drop one of her gloves before going off to hail a cab (apparently the bus was taking too long for her). Now, I didn't notice her dropping the glove, but another woman at the stop happened to see it and stated flatly, "She drop [sic] her glove." And then I found myself in one of those moments where time stands still, because I was totally waiting for the woman to reach down, pick up the glove right in front of her, turn to the other side, and hand the glove to the old woman -- who, at this point, was still standing on the curb about an arm's length away. Instead, she did flipping nothing. When it became apparent that no one else was going to do anything either, I found myself dashing forward (I was standing on the opposite side of the bus stop enclosure), scooping up the glove from the ground, and running up to the woman just as she got inside a cab while waving the glove and shouting, "Ma'am! Ma'am!" The cabbie rolled down the window, the woman got her glove, and all was right with the world -- until the bus showed up about a minute later and carried me off to botch that interview in a very real and very, very unfortunate way.

But while I may be a terrible interviewee, at least I'm not an entirely terrible person. Right? 😐

-posted by Wes | 7:39 pm | Comments (11)
First things first...
Category: Dreams … Toys

So I never did finish up that new year's post I'd started way back when. Maybe I'll get around to that someday. Anyway, I'm ready to post about new stuff, but before I do here's the part of that old entry that I did complete. Woo.

For those not in the know, the topic is one of the many Bizarro ways of saying HAPPY NEW YEAR! There are others, of course -- and although technically Bizarro speak simply involves speaking in opposites, it can be pretty imprecise. For example, in Superman/Batman #24, Bizarro says, "Superman no am in trouble!" -- meaning that Superman is in trouble. Yet he then says, "He no am with Darkseid having fun!" At the time, Superman is indeed with Darkseid. However, since he certainly is not having fun, the entire statement isn't a negation of the truth -- and given that Superman isn't having fun with Darkseid, it is arguably true as stated. Similarly, Bizarro will refer to Superman as his "worst idol" -- by which he means his greatest idol -- but refer to Batzarro as his "worst enemy" -- by which he means his best friend.

Needless to say, deciphering Bizarro speak can be a confusing affair.

Anyway, I hope your new year is going well thus far! Mine is going less well than I'd hoped -- that is, in the dream department. (Not that things are going great otherwise, mind you, but they're not going terribly either. As usual, we're about par for the course.) See, whereas my last dream of 2007 was a new experience for me and my first dream of 2008 proved similarly encouraging, my second dream pretty much dashed my hopes of 2008 ushering in a new era of awesome dreams. Let me explain.

On December 31, 2007, I took a several-hour midday nap and awoke on schedule to the frenzied beeping of my Mickey Mouse alarm clock. However, when I rose from my bed and attempted to turn off the clock, I found myself unable to silence it despite pressing and depressing the singular button several times. I sadly assumed that the clock had finally broken on me -- I've had it as long as I can remember; I distinctly recall its beeping sound waking me at 4:30 AM on Saturday mornings so I could watch "Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends" -- and ventured to remove the batteries from it one final time.

I had the batteries in my hand, but it continued to beep.

Impossible? Yes, impossible. Impossible. Unless...

"This is a fucking dream!" I said aloud. When I turned to see another identical alarm clock perched atop a floating shelf that isn't actually in my real room (which, despite my apparent understanding of the nature of my reality, didn't register with me at the time), I repeated my assertion. "This is a fucking dream!!! And when attempting to turn that clock off and removing its batteries failed to silence the beeping, I closed my eyes and willed myself to wake up for real.

Upon doing so and silencing good ol' Mickey (still working just as well as ever!) I considered that that was the first dream I have ever had in which I realized with certainty that I was dreaming. I've had other dreams that I've suspected of being dreams, but then I am prone to getting that sneaking suspicion in waking life as well -- particularly when I find myself in well-stocked toystores or the VCD/DVD shops of NYC's Chinatown.

And perhaps I'll write more about that at a later date (but probably not). Long story short, though -- the next dream had me wandering around different locales and somehow controlling the dream so that I was ultimately cuddling with this cute little blonde number in a grey sweater (who, though I wasn't familiar with the actress at the time, bore a strong resemblance to Allison Mack). Encouraging, right? Then I went on to dream about being shot in the back of the head and bleeding profusely for what seemed like an eternity before I finally opened my eyes and found myself in bed. Yippee.

-posted by Wes | 7:12 pm | Comments (1)