I'm not sure if was fired or if I quit.
Sounds like the beginning of a novel, right? Well, it's not. It's what happened to me today. (Although maybe I'll write a book with that as the opening line. I'm sure all of my faithful readers would buy it and make me rich.)
Friday was supposed to be my last day at Circuit Shitty, but I was alerted by my supervisor, Don "No More Tearsall" Piersall (originator of Tae Kwon Don) that my shift was taken care of. Sorry. Unfortunately that means I'm out $40. That's a full tank of gas. What the hell? I get no explanation. All I was told was to call the store manager, Josh, he of the Nospine-ites. I decided not to call him or go up to the store to talk to him. I figured it was his responsibility to tell me why I didn't have to work my final shift. It seems I may have stolen something. I don't remember doing it. In fact, I can't stomach people who steal. They're like bums. Get a job and pay for it. Honesty and integrity. That's the name of the game, son.
Apparently Josh saw something he didn't like on the security cameras. I have no idea what it could be. All I know is I don't work there anymore. Which is fine by me. It was never that great of a job anyway. The only thing that makes me nervous is what the status of my termination will be. Was I fired or did I quit? I don't know.
The other thing that bothers me is that Josh used Don, a person I respect and enjoy being around, as his little lackey mouthpiece. I figure if he (Josh) has an issue he should talk to me like a respectful human being would. Now I know respect is not taught in school these days (no offense to you school teachers), but it's not being taught at home either. Everyone wants to take the easy way out, even if it means being a complete douche.
The way this job ended sort of summed up my entire work experience at Circuit City (which, by the way, may be bought by Blockbuster. Desperation? They don't think so. They still have half a billion dollars in the bank.) I feel like I was being shit on from day one. It only got worse when I moved to the warehouse. The people I worked with were great, mostly. Managers and supervisors were almost universally shitty. I could go on forever about this place but I feel like I would bore most of you. So my mantra to make it through every day was, "Paycheck. Paycheck. Paycheck. I work with Straightback and Katie. Paycheck." Not exactly a job you want to keep forever, let alone four years.
I think I'll end this post the opposite way I ended my employment.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
How can you disconnect a writer from his work?
I came to some realizations in my class today. Instead of paying attention to what the professor was saying I was analyzing my other classes to find out why I like them more than others. It's taken me the whole semester to figure this out and coherently put it into words. Here it is.
Studies in the British Novel: We talk about characters in books as if they were real entities, like you and me, separate from the author, acting of their own volition. This is slightly frustrating because I don't believe you can talk about books separately from the author. Questions like "Is this the author speaking through the character or is this the authors voice?" make absolutely no sense. It is, of course, the author's voice. How could it be a character's voice when that character does not exist in any one's mind but the author? Of course, the character lives in other people's minds after they have read the book, but the character is still a figment of the author's imagination.
Major Authors (Mark Twain): We talk about the deep connection between an author and the text. This makes more sense to me since a text, no matter who writes it or what it's purpose is, is forever tied to the author's experiences and ideas. The questions in this class never deal with the characters as real people in the real world. The questions always focus on why the author chose to portray a character the way he/she did. Of course, it is easier in a class where we learn about the author as well as discuss what he has written, but it is no excuse to ever treat characters in a book as real people.
Anti-War Literature: In this class we treat characters as real people because, for the most part, they are/were real people. Most of the characters in these novels are based on people who experienced these situations. It is more like a history course than a literature course.
This post was more for my own well-being than to entertain. The other ones gave me a chance to comically convey what happened to me in that given day. This one is acting as a therapeutic exercise for my mind. I needed to explain to people how I feel about these classes and the way they approach literature. Please let me know what you think of these different approaches and if you agree or disagree with me on the way I feel about them.
I hope my next entry will be a return to humorous ramblings and awesome links. Which reminds me: I put the links into the blog hoping everyone who reads this (all two of you) will go to the links. I think they spruce up and increase the intended hilarity.
Studies in the British Novel: We talk about characters in books as if they were real entities, like you and me, separate from the author, acting of their own volition. This is slightly frustrating because I don't believe you can talk about books separately from the author. Questions like "Is this the author speaking through the character or is this the authors voice?" make absolutely no sense. It is, of course, the author's voice. How could it be a character's voice when that character does not exist in any one's mind but the author? Of course, the character lives in other people's minds after they have read the book, but the character is still a figment of the author's imagination.
Major Authors (Mark Twain): We talk about the deep connection between an author and the text. This makes more sense to me since a text, no matter who writes it or what it's purpose is, is forever tied to the author's experiences and ideas. The questions in this class never deal with the characters as real people in the real world. The questions always focus on why the author chose to portray a character the way he/she did. Of course, it is easier in a class where we learn about the author as well as discuss what he has written, but it is no excuse to ever treat characters in a book as real people.
Anti-War Literature: In this class we treat characters as real people because, for the most part, they are/were real people. Most of the characters in these novels are based on people who experienced these situations. It is more like a history course than a literature course.
This post was more for my own well-being than to entertain. The other ones gave me a chance to comically convey what happened to me in that given day. This one is acting as a therapeutic exercise for my mind. I needed to explain to people how I feel about these classes and the way they approach literature. Please let me know what you think of these different approaches and if you agree or disagree with me on the way I feel about them.
I hope my next entry will be a return to humorous ramblings and awesome links. Which reminds me: I put the links into the blog hoping everyone who reads this (all two of you) will go to the links. I think they spruce up and increase the intended hilarity.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Goats, Eve and Cold Soccer
I did something interesting today!
I milked a goat. It wasn't that big of a deal or anything. I just grabbed the teat and squeezed. Out came milk. I starved a young goat. All in a days work.
My buddy, who I call Katie, brought a goat from a friends farm for a project in one of his Curriculum courses at EMU. The whole thing was awesome. I felt like Bob Barker's women on the The Price Is Right or Vanna White. I'm not sure who I would want to be, though. Vanna White can fit through a straw, but she has to work with Pat Sajak. Barker's women (I'm currently passing on an awesome name for them for the sake of decency. It rhymes with Barker's Witches), have to get plastic surgery to fill out their dresses, but they get to work with Bob Barker. I can't decide.
There was goat poop everywhere. Some people stepped in it. I tried to stop them, but they were drawn by my beauty and paid with poop on their shoe. Oh, well. The price of beauty is always the right price. I guess that answers my earlier question. Being part of Barker's harem is better than being Ms. White. Go figure.
The aforementioned baby goat was awesome. It was so loud and it hated pavement. I wanted it. But then I remembered it grows up and I decided I don't have the means to take care of it. Katie was decked out in farmer's gear. But not real farmer's gear. More like Abercrombie and Fitch farmer's gear. Except not nearly as gay (not that there's anything wrong with that). And he was wearing his shirt.
The rest of the day was not as eventful as the goat experience. But I did make a connection between two of my classes, which, of course, I did not voice in my class for fear of being wrong or mistaken about my connection. We're reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce and I connected an image of a woman he was gazing at with Mark Twain's depiction of Eve. I could be way off-base, but it sure sounded alike to me. The more I think about it the more I wish I had said something. It could have been a profound moment. Maybe next week.
I ended my eventful day with a trip to Saline to cover the girls varsity soccer game for the Saline Reporter. It was cold, windy and rainy. I'm too smart for my own good and I defeated Mother Nature's attempt to make me miserable. The game was being played on the football field and I took advantage of...wait for it, wait for it...the PRESS BOX. Who would have thought I could be so brilliant. I guess that's what happens when you read a book or two.
Profounder is a word.
That's what happened today. Hopefully I jazzed it up enough to make it seem a little more interesting than it actually was, barring the goat incident. That really was awesome.
Oh. And I apologize for the half-naked man picture. It was unnecessary, but it gave me a laugh.
I milked a goat. It wasn't that big of a deal or anything. I just grabbed the teat and squeezed. Out came milk. I starved a young goat. All in a days work.
My buddy, who I call Katie, brought a goat from a friends farm for a project in one of his Curriculum courses at EMU. The whole thing was awesome. I felt like Bob Barker's women on the The Price Is Right or Vanna White. I'm not sure who I would want to be, though. Vanna White can fit through a straw, but she has to work with Pat Sajak. Barker's women (I'm currently passing on an awesome name for them for the sake of decency. It rhymes with Barker's Witches), have to get plastic surgery to fill out their dresses, but they get to work with Bob Barker. I can't decide.
There was goat poop everywhere. Some people stepped in it. I tried to stop them, but they were drawn by my beauty and paid with poop on their shoe. Oh, well. The price of beauty is always the right price. I guess that answers my earlier question. Being part of Barker's harem is better than being Ms. White. Go figure.
The aforementioned baby goat was awesome. It was so loud and it hated pavement. I wanted it. But then I remembered it grows up and I decided I don't have the means to take care of it. Katie was decked out in farmer's gear. But not real farmer's gear. More like Abercrombie and Fitch farmer's gear. Except not nearly as gay (not that there's anything wrong with that). And he was wearing his shirt.
The rest of the day was not as eventful as the goat experience. But I did make a connection between two of my classes, which, of course, I did not voice in my class for fear of being wrong or mistaken about my connection. We're reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce and I connected an image of a woman he was gazing at with Mark Twain's depiction of Eve. I could be way off-base, but it sure sounded alike to me. The more I think about it the more I wish I had said something. It could have been a profound moment. Maybe next week.
I ended my eventful day with a trip to Saline to cover the girls varsity soccer game for the Saline Reporter. It was cold, windy and rainy. I'm too smart for my own good and I defeated Mother Nature's attempt to make me miserable. The game was being played on the football field and I took advantage of...wait for it, wait for it...the PRESS BOX. Who would have thought I could be so brilliant. I guess that's what happens when you read a book or two.
Profounder is a word.
That's what happened today. Hopefully I jazzed it up enough to make it seem a little more interesting than it actually was, barring the goat incident. That really was awesome.
Oh. And I apologize for the half-naked man picture. It was unnecessary, but it gave me a laugh.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Letters From The Earth
So, I'm starting a blog which I'm sure everyone will read and become addicted to and begin stalking me and you will all know everything about me and I will become the biggest celebrity the world has ever known.
But, of course, that's just untrue. I'm starting a blog because, like most people, I believe my friends want to know more about me than they already do. I'm not sure if this is true, but we'll see.
This morning marked an end to a stage in my life and a realization that I'm growing up. I put in my two weeks notice at Circuit City. I've worked there for almost 1/5 of my life. There have been some good times and some great times. I can't say there have been any horrible times, just frustrating times. I'm happy to be done there and get on with what I believe will be my career. I'll be freelancing for the Saline Reporter/Milan News-Leader/Ypsilanti Courier for the summer and maybe beyond. I'm also graduating in two weeks. Hurrah.
I turned down a job opportunity in Owosso, MI (near Flint, MI) because I'm going to take the summer off. I decided a job can wait considering I'll be doing that for the rest of my life. Instead, I will take this opportunity to travel, read and get to know my friends better by actually hanging out with them.
If you're interested the name of my blog came from Samuel Clemens (or Mark Twain). He wrote a story (never published in his lifetime) called The Chronicles of Young Satan. I decided to go with Stan instead of Satan, figuring I would a.) scare people away, or b.) make people think I was some Goth cutter or something.
This story of Twain's was eventually published under the name No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger. You can get an idea of what the book is like by following this here link. I'm taking a Major Authors course at Eastern Michigan University focusing on Mark Twain. It's absolutely one of the best classes I've ever had with one of the best teachers around. I think I've become addicted to Mark Twain.
That's it for today. An uneventful way to end the blog, but I hope that by leaving it without a tidy wrap-up you, dear reader, will come back for more.
But, of course, that's just untrue. I'm starting a blog because, like most people, I believe my friends want to know more about me than they already do. I'm not sure if this is true, but we'll see.
This morning marked an end to a stage in my life and a realization that I'm growing up. I put in my two weeks notice at Circuit City. I've worked there for almost 1/5 of my life. There have been some good times and some great times. I can't say there have been any horrible times, just frustrating times. I'm happy to be done there and get on with what I believe will be my career. I'll be freelancing for the Saline Reporter/Milan News-Leader/Ypsilanti Courier for the summer and maybe beyond. I'm also graduating in two weeks. Hurrah.
I turned down a job opportunity in Owosso, MI (near Flint, MI) because I'm going to take the summer off. I decided a job can wait considering I'll be doing that for the rest of my life. Instead, I will take this opportunity to travel, read and get to know my friends better by actually hanging out with them.
If you're interested the name of my blog came from Samuel Clemens (or Mark Twain). He wrote a story (never published in his lifetime) called The Chronicles of Young Satan. I decided to go with Stan instead of Satan, figuring I would a.) scare people away, or b.) make people think I was some Goth cutter or something.
This story of Twain's was eventually published under the name No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger. You can get an idea of what the book is like by following this here link. I'm taking a Major Authors course at Eastern Michigan University focusing on Mark Twain. It's absolutely one of the best classes I've ever had with one of the best teachers around. I think I've become addicted to Mark Twain.
That's it for today. An uneventful way to end the blog, but I hope that by leaving it without a tidy wrap-up you, dear reader, will come back for more.
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