In My Career Management Workshop I Fought The Temptation To Shout "Manage THIS!"

On Friday night I was indirectly awoken by the sounds of drunk people in the parking lot. I say “indirectly” because what actually woke me up was the sound of the stupid dog upstairs barking at the drunk people.
However, once awoken by the dog I was kept awake by the drunk people, who were sitting on a balcony nearby. At first I thought it was the balcony upstairs, but I heard her moving around too much to be outside talking – loudly – with drunken friends.
I never figured out where the people were located, but given that it was a cool night, I closed the windows and figured that would drown them out.
No such luck, as these weren’t people who were just having fun and being thoughtlessly noisy, these were people who were deliberately being loud and making sure that everyone heard them.
Because sleep wasn’t going to happen, I got up and messed around on the computer for a bit, hoping that someone would call in a complaint, and coming close to being that someone.
However, by around 12:30 they had finally gone inside, or left, or whatever, at which point I got back into bed.
It was as I was tiredly drifting back to sleep that the “You’ve Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me” moment happened and the stupid dog upstairs started barking.
Apparently its owner was one of the noisy people and she had left with the others.
Luckily the dog seemed to be as tired as I was, and soon settled into a low whine that was easy enough to ignore and sleep through.
Even so, Saturday was not a happy morning, and I was definitely dragging ass all day.
I suppose I could/should complain, but what’s the point? I’ll be moving soon enough, and it’s not like complaining would do any good. I she going to get rid of her dog? No. Is she going to muzzle it? Wouldn’t do much to stop its more penetrative whines.
Ultimately, no matter how or how much you complain, people are going to be a pain in your ass, and will likely become a more pronounced and deliberate pain in your ass if you do complain.
So fuck it; I’ll just content myself with the knowledge that, despite how disappointing my first venture into house-hunting may have been yesterday, I will be out of here soon.
And then I’ll learn to deal with whatever kind of annoyances my new neighbors will present, because if there’s one thing that’s true about people everywhere, it’s this: they suck.
In any case, I did go to see the Fantastic Four sequel last night, though I was incorrect as to who was in attendance, as Stacy actually stayed home to watch the kids (hers and Scott’s and Jamie and Casey’s). I headed down a bit early, by invitation, and had dinner at Scott and Stacy’s house before heading to the movie.
As for the movie itself, I liked it. There were some definite flaws, but overall it was entertaining and considerably better than the first movie, though that might actually be damning it with faint praise, as it would be difficult to not be better than the first.
Even so, I was much more pleased with it. The plot was fine, the acting, with a few exceptions, was fine, and the action was very good.
I was not terribly thrilled with the presentation of Galactus, but considering how little focus Galactus got, that’s not too big of a deal. The Surfer was definitely cool, and fun to watch.
In terms of acting, Jessica Alba was definitely a liability, but her wooden performance was negated by the fact that she gives me wood.
*Sigh* I’m truly sorry for that, but it was unavoidable.
Seriously, the amount of eye candy that she provides makes her lack of acting ability sort of, well, invisible.
(As for the character of the Invisible Woman, I was glad to see them delve into her abilities a lot more, though there was some definite Psychic Nosebleed Zen for Dr. Scott over at Polite Dissent.)
Similarly, Kerry Washington’s hotness made up for her scenery chewing overacting. Seriously, she couldn’t have done more to emphasize the fact that her character is blind if she wore a sandwich board that read “I’m Blind!” in big letters and occasionally shouted that catchphrase into a bullhorn.
The only really irritatingly bad acting came, as it did in the first, in the form of Julian McMahon as Dr. Doom.
Basically, as perfect as Michael Chiklis is as Ben Grimm a role that, like J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson or Erica Durance as Lois Lane, he was clearly born to play, that’s how imperfect Julian McMahon is as Doom.
‘nuff said.
Of course, one of the things that made the movie entertaining were the little comments that Scott and I frequently made to each other.
My favorite was when Jessica Alba was wearing glasses, and I leaned over and said, “Wearing glasses makes me look brainy, like Alfred Einstein,” which, was, of course, pronounced, “Ine-steen.”
There were also lots of little fun bits in the movie itself, like the cameo by Stan Lee as himself, and various sight gags using the FF’s powers, particularly with the whole power-swapping sub-plot, which led to some really cool visuals.
One gag that I would like to have seen, though, should have come during a scene in which Sue (Alba) came walking in to visit Reed (Ionjsjdfjldj Grfrhlrdl, or whatever the hell that guy’s 99% consonants name is) wearing this dress that basically said, “Look! I have boobies! Kindly focus on them and ignore my ‘acting.’”
(FYI: My response? “Will do, Jessica Alba’s boobies!”)
In the scene, Reed is tense and Sue is trying to get him to relax. She does this by standing behind him and resting his head on her chest, which, seriously, would not put me into a “relaxed” state.
Anyway, I thought it would have been funny if when Reed got up the back of his head had reshaped into the negative image of Sue’s cleavage.
But that’s just me.
Today I went to a career management workshop. I went to where it was supposed to be, put my stuff down at a table, then ran to the bathroom. When I got back, there was a note saying that the class had been moved to another room. In another building.
So I made the trek over to the other building, where we waited for the others to arrive.
The facilitator decided that since it was a small class (only five of us) he would spend the morning quickly going over the course material, and then meet with each of us one-on-one in the afternoon.
He started the one-on-ones at 11:30. Mine wasn’t until 1:45.
I met up with Scott and Stacy (Update: It was, in fact, Jamie, not Stacy) to have lunch, and then walked back with Scott to check out his shiny new cubicle, which is pretty much empty. He doesn’t actually have a computer yet, so he’s using his personal laptop, and other than a picture of his daughters, the only adornment is the Power Girl bust.
After that I still had more than an hour to kill, so I walked over to the other side of the HQ campus where I’d parked to get my car. I was going to just move it over to the building my class was in, but I decided to make a quick jaunt to Wal-Mart where I picked up Reno 911!: Miami on DVD, and a 30-pack of blank DVDs.
From there it was back for my meeting – where I “learned” a bunch of stuff I already knew, and then it was off to home.
Honestly, it wasn’t that the information I got from the class and meeting were bad or inherently useless, it’s just that I can’t see myself really benefiting from it because, well, I’m me.
But we’ll see, I guess.
There were two chicks in the class. One was this Russian (I think; definitely Eastern European) chick, who wasn’t bad looking, but wasn’t really attractive either. She was pretty annoying, though, as she seemed to like the sound of her own voice and found her life story to be endlessly fascinating.
When she wasn’t talking there was this guy who was ready to pick up the slack, and what he wanted to talk about was how bitter he is about the “politics” at the company. We have a lot of chronic complainers like that at the company who like to take training classes like this one so that they have new congregations to preach their bitter gospel to.
I just don’t get it; they go on and on at these instructors – who are contracted third-party people who are not actually affiliated with the company and therefore have no influence on shaping policy – as though the poor instructors can actually do something about their complaints.
Yeah, that’s the way to solve problems. I’m sure that contracted instructor you bitched to at length will take your concerns and somehow bring about companywide changes that will prevent people who don’t deserve it from getting promoted. Way to go!
I was actually pretty vocal in the class, simply because when I was talking, they weren’t talking.
Rounding out the class were a sales guy from one of our offices in Atlanta who seemed nice enough, and this cute young intern who was wearing this low-cut, incredibly short dress that looked like the sort of dress a girl would wear to the beach over her bathing suit.
Admittedly, our company has a very relaxed dress code. It’s casual all the way, but there’s a difference between casual and having your boobs hanging out.
Not that I’m complaining, exactly, and more power to her, I guess. Still, given that, even though she’s a senior in college, she talks like a high-school cheerleader and that she puts on beachwear to head in to the office, I hope she doesn’t find it too terribly shocking when people don’t take her seriously.
But seriously, at one point she was thisclose to having her boob pop out of that dress because she totally wasn’t wearing a bra.
And that alone would have made the entire day worth it.
Ah well.
Anyway, this has been sort of a housekeeping entry, filling in some of the blanks since my last substantial post and bringing you up to date.
You’re welcome.