Wow, I've logged at least 40 hours of playtime on Dragon Age Origins, the newest Bioware game. It wouldn't be so bad if this was over the course of a month, but I got the game November 3rd and it's barely November 11th...
Left 4 Dead 2 is coming out in a few more days and I'll be subsequently hooked on that. There goes the thought of studying! Maybe I should wait off on taking the GRE, especially since I'm not sure what I want to major in yet...
Some friends and I have a trip planned to Vegas to celebrate my 25th birthday. That'll be fun! It's my first time in Vegas (as an adult). I don't plan on gambling, but I think it'll be a great place to have a beer and people watch.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Never fear, Will is here!
I sat in the middle of a semicircle of people, with all eyes focused on me. I chuckled at the next question, "What's the longest time that you've been car camping or backpacking?"
I replied that I don't think car camping constitutes as 'camping', but answered that the longest I've gone car camping has been two months straight. Some of the interviewers were visibly shocked at the reply, probably expecting an answer closer to a weekend. The guy nearest me joked "That's not car camping, that's being homeless". We all laughed (with me probably laughing the loudest).
I went on and explained some of my backpacking experiences, mainly wilderness hiking in Yosemite and the trips out to various secluded islands in Tonga. After the interview, one of the members told me that they would normally get back to an applicant in a week. For me, they'd get back to me in 2 minutes while I stepped out so they could vote.
Once I was welcomed back into the room, I heard that I passed my initial interview to become part of the San Diego Mountain Search and Rescue group. It was only the first step in becoming part of the volunteer group, but I was excited. The next test is a weekend trip out to an unknown location with other new applicants. It'll test our ability to pack for an unknown place, the ability to work with other potential SAR members, use our survival knowledge in a wilderness setting, and to learn new SAR skills.
After climbing these last couple months, I figure its about time to try to do something productive instead of only crimping progressively smaller plastic holds in a gym (although I definitely won't stop the latter).
[Updated - It costs a LOT for the additional equipment necessary for the Mountain Rescue Team. As much as I would love to join the group, I'm selfish and want to save up my money to travel again.]
I replied that I don't think car camping constitutes as 'camping', but answered that the longest I've gone car camping has been two months straight. Some of the interviewers were visibly shocked at the reply, probably expecting an answer closer to a weekend. The guy nearest me joked "That's not car camping, that's being homeless". We all laughed (with me probably laughing the loudest).
I went on and explained some of my backpacking experiences, mainly wilderness hiking in Yosemite and the trips out to various secluded islands in Tonga. After the interview, one of the members told me that they would normally get back to an applicant in a week. For me, they'd get back to me in 2 minutes while I stepped out so they could vote.
Once I was welcomed back into the room, I heard that I passed my initial interview to become part of the San Diego Mountain Search and Rescue group. It was only the first step in becoming part of the volunteer group, but I was excited. The next test is a weekend trip out to an unknown location with other new applicants. It'll test our ability to pack for an unknown place, the ability to work with other potential SAR members, use our survival knowledge in a wilderness setting, and to learn new SAR skills.
After climbing these last couple months, I figure its about time to try to do something productive instead of only crimping progressively smaller plastic holds in a gym (although I definitely won't stop the latter).
[Updated - It costs a LOT for the additional equipment necessary for the Mountain Rescue Team. As much as I would love to join the group, I'm selfish and want to save up my money to travel again.]
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Homeless Steve
It's been relatively hot in San Diego. The weather isn't so bad compared to other places in the world, but when you're confined to living inside a small Toyota Tacoma, it gets pretty unbearable. The afternoon heat regularly melts the sticky velcro on my truck's curtains and I'm constantly needing to reassemble it at night when the weather has cooled down a few degrees.
I've been thinking about different solutions to the heat problem and in theory have come up with using Reflectix, a radiant barrier (poor transmitter of infrared waves) that is commonly used in homes. The problem is locating where I can buy a small quantity at a low price (I'm trying to be frugal after all).
I was on the way to Target in search of the material when I spotted a dirty white colored van sitting isolated in the parking lot. The location made perfect sense despite being in the wide open parking lot:
1.) It was far enough from any particular business that normal shoppers wouldn't disturb the person(s) inside the van
2.) Even business owners might think that the van's owner was simply shopping at another location
I pulled around and decided to investigate further. I slowly circled the vehicle and did a quick analysis. The side curtains were drawn, but the windows were open. The back door was cracked to allow ventilation, but not enough to directly see inside. Laying across the roof was a cargo box and an open vent. Even though I couldn't physically see in it, I was confident someone was living in the vehicle.
I stopped a few parking stalls away from the van and approached the vehicle on foot. I wasn't sure how to start off a conversation so I loudly asked "Hi, is anyone in there?". As soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately felt bad; I probably startled the hell out of this person. I heard some faint scrambling noises inside.
I quickly followed it up by saying that I've been living out of my truck for the last month and that I wasn't a guard or a tow truck guy. I continued to have a one way conversation explaining that I came to ask for some advice on escaping the summer heat. After a couple minutes of what felt like talking to a rock, I saw a bearded man in his late 50's pop out into the driver's seat.
The homeless guy was friendly and said, "Hey, I didn't see you there. How's it going? So you're homeless too? Where's your truck?"
I pointed to my truck and explained my setup. He confirmed what I learned in my past month homeless; trucks are good for blending into an environment, but aren't good for extended homeless stays (since you don't have enough room to do anything in it). His opinion was that I wasn't going to last in the truck for long.
We traded notes on how we've been living so far. I told him some of my stories and favorite/worst places to park. He had a good laugh on my 'exploration' of sleeping areas, which included Wal-Marts and near police stations. He commented that parking in Wal-Mart lots would inevitably get your vehicle towed, but that parking at a McDonalds overnight never caused him any trouble.
He was quite frank on how he lived. He said that if he needed to pee, he peed in a giant fast food cup lying around. If he needed to go number two, he just used a plastic bag and threw it into a nearby trash can. He kept constantly moving to make sure that police didn't catch him (since it was illegal to live in a car).
As we continued talking in the blistering heat, I got a better idea about the guy; he had a raw, primal, and sincerely simple energy about him. He seemed like he could live off of practically nothing (which he probably did). There's something about a person that can take a shit into a plastic bag and not worry about things like hand sanitizer. Despite logic, the man had survived five years of van dwelling; even the 'necessities' that I thought I needed weren't really that necessary. (FYI: I respect his living style, but am not anywhere near adopting many of his lifestyle philosophies)
He had bought his vehicle for approximately $2000 about 10 years ago and has lived in it ever since. He was vague about how he got into his 'situation', but as we got deeper into our conversation, he expressed genuine fears about how anxious he was getting. At times he'd lose sleep over whether his car would start up the next day.
As soon as his car can't start up, he'd be dead in the water. He would be towed and wouldn't have the money to bail his car out. He explained that even though he didn't have many material possessions and despite how meager those possessions were, it was still all he had. He said that he was getting too old for living in his car and was finally looking for a place to stay.
I wished him luck in getting a room to rent. Before I walked away, I asked him what his name was. He replied "Steve" and I thanked him for readily sharing his sage advice. I extended my hand, ready to shake his, when both of us glanced at each other. For a second, we shared a telepathic link that said "Oh yeah, Steve shits in plastic bags in his car". I instantly retracted my hand shake and waved goodbye, saying "I'll see you around... maybe at a McDonalds parking lot."
Good luck Steve, I wish you the best.
I've been thinking about different solutions to the heat problem and in theory have come up with using Reflectix, a radiant barrier (poor transmitter of infrared waves) that is commonly used in homes. The problem is locating where I can buy a small quantity at a low price (I'm trying to be frugal after all).
I was on the way to Target in search of the material when I spotted a dirty white colored van sitting isolated in the parking lot. The location made perfect sense despite being in the wide open parking lot:
1.) It was far enough from any particular business that normal shoppers wouldn't disturb the person(s) inside the van
2.) Even business owners might think that the van's owner was simply shopping at another location
I pulled around and decided to investigate further. I slowly circled the vehicle and did a quick analysis. The side curtains were drawn, but the windows were open. The back door was cracked to allow ventilation, but not enough to directly see inside. Laying across the roof was a cargo box and an open vent. Even though I couldn't physically see in it, I was confident someone was living in the vehicle.
I stopped a few parking stalls away from the van and approached the vehicle on foot. I wasn't sure how to start off a conversation so I loudly asked "Hi, is anyone in there?". As soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately felt bad; I probably startled the hell out of this person. I heard some faint scrambling noises inside.
I quickly followed it up by saying that I've been living out of my truck for the last month and that I wasn't a guard or a tow truck guy. I continued to have a one way conversation explaining that I came to ask for some advice on escaping the summer heat. After a couple minutes of what felt like talking to a rock, I saw a bearded man in his late 50's pop out into the driver's seat.
The homeless guy was friendly and said, "Hey, I didn't see you there. How's it going? So you're homeless too? Where's your truck?"
I pointed to my truck and explained my setup. He confirmed what I learned in my past month homeless; trucks are good for blending into an environment, but aren't good for extended homeless stays (since you don't have enough room to do anything in it). His opinion was that I wasn't going to last in the truck for long.
We traded notes on how we've been living so far. I told him some of my stories and favorite/worst places to park. He had a good laugh on my 'exploration' of sleeping areas, which included Wal-Marts and near police stations. He commented that parking in Wal-Mart lots would inevitably get your vehicle towed, but that parking at a McDonalds overnight never caused him any trouble.
He was quite frank on how he lived. He said that if he needed to pee, he peed in a giant fast food cup lying around. If he needed to go number two, he just used a plastic bag and threw it into a nearby trash can. He kept constantly moving to make sure that police didn't catch him (since it was illegal to live in a car).
As we continued talking in the blistering heat, I got a better idea about the guy; he had a raw, primal, and sincerely simple energy about him. He seemed like he could live off of practically nothing (which he probably did). There's something about a person that can take a shit into a plastic bag and not worry about things like hand sanitizer. Despite logic, the man had survived five years of van dwelling; even the 'necessities' that I thought I needed weren't really that necessary. (FYI: I respect his living style, but am not anywhere near adopting many of his lifestyle philosophies)
He had bought his vehicle for approximately $2000 about 10 years ago and has lived in it ever since. He was vague about how he got into his 'situation', but as we got deeper into our conversation, he expressed genuine fears about how anxious he was getting. At times he'd lose sleep over whether his car would start up the next day.
As soon as his car can't start up, he'd be dead in the water. He would be towed and wouldn't have the money to bail his car out. He explained that even though he didn't have many material possessions and despite how meager those possessions were, it was still all he had. He said that he was getting too old for living in his car and was finally looking for a place to stay.
I wished him luck in getting a room to rent. Before I walked away, I asked him what his name was. He replied "Steve" and I thanked him for readily sharing his sage advice. I extended my hand, ready to shake his, when both of us glanced at each other. For a second, we shared a telepathic link that said "Oh yeah, Steve shits in plastic bags in his car". I instantly retracted my hand shake and waved goodbye, saying "I'll see you around... maybe at a McDonalds parking lot."
Good luck Steve, I wish you the best.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Parking Lots
Since college, I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve been to a Wal-mart. I have two main reasons for my limited visits. For one, I remember watching a documentary proclaiming the evil practices of the giant corporation; I refuse to support any grossly unethical businesses. I wish I could say that that was my main and only reason for avoiding Wal-Marts.
Quite frankly, even if the company were entirely altruistic, I would probably still not visit because I never found the appeal of their low quality items. It was a wonder that I found myself heading towards the local Wal-mart at 11pm.
I vaguely remembered hearing that it was acceptable for people to openly park their cars for the night in a Wal-mart parking lot. I’m not sure how I even heard this rumor, maybe it was from the documentary; last night I thought it’d be an interesting theory to test.
I drove in expecting to see a small congregation of vans, trucks, and RVs forming on the outskirts of the parking lot. I imagined a camp filled with dark tinted vans, each with its own colorful history of police stakeouts and/or Amber alert kidnappings.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when I found only one parked RV. All of the other vehicles looked like they were normal shoppers. I drove in closer to look for the telltale signs of a fellow road hobo; there would be curtains shut, windows wide open for ventilation, and maybe some form of light emitting from the cracks. I circled the parking lot and didn’t find what I was looking for.
However, I did find the security guard. He sat in his SUV and prowled the lot, occasionally driving up and down the lanes with his flashing orange lights. At first I didn’t pay him any notice; I figured I could park far enough away and he would leave me alone. I reasoned that the evil corporation probably didn’t pay him enough to actively look for trouble. On the other hand, I saw the signs that repeatedly stated “No Overnight Parking or You Will Be Towed”.
As much as I believe that ‘Bad Decisions make Great Stories’, there’s a certain line that has be drawn and having your vehicle towed while you’re still sleeping in it is not something that I’d like the pleasure of retelling. So instead of risking it, I simply drove up to the guard and asked him if it was acceptable to sleep in my vehicle.
The guard looked over at me with compassion morso than as a figure of authority. He explained how it was his job to make sure that no one parked overnight, with the exception of RVs (which were allowed a 1 day maximum). He gave a heartfelt apology. I told him no worries and that I didn’t want to make his job difficult (or get towed).
Just as I was leaving he mentioned that the lot further down the street (owned by Petco and Vons) was not guarded by anyone. He said I was more than welcome to stay there until the morning.
I thanked him and parked down the street in the nearly empty lot. It felt uncomfortable to be in such an open area, but I thought it’d be neat to try for at least one night. I wish the story ended here with me getting a good nights sleep, but you’ll be surprised at what goes on in a nearly empty parking lot at night.
My first interruption was what sounded like a drug deal that happened at 12:50 am. The two cars had parked approximately three car lengths away from me, with one car probably thinking that I was the initial buyer/seller. I peeked through my tinted window and lifted one of my blackout curtains just slightly to see what was going on. Since there wasn't much sound proofing in my vehicle, I could clearly hear their conversation, but I wasn't sure exactly what they were buying/selling, though it definitely seemed like a drug deal. After the deal, they surprised me with a quick conversation about the state of politics. Hmm, who would've thought?
I was woken from my sleep a second time by the sound of a nearby heavy engine. It scared me thinking that it was a tow truck. I hastily looked around and luckily it wasn’t. At this point, I started sleeping with my jeans on in case I needed to make a quick escape. It’s barely 2:30 am.
The third time I woke up hearing an engine rev loudly. This time I woke up more annoyed than frightened, thinking “Are you serious?” I looked through the back window to find someone working on his car just a few feet from my tailgate bumper. I look over at my cell phone and wonder who works on their car at 4 am in an empty parking lot?! After a few minutes, I hear his car revving away into the night (or what was left of it).
I've decided that I’m done with parking lots. I head back to my favorite spot, an apartment complex that sits inconspicuously a block away from the police station. I need whatever sleep I can get; I have work at 8:00 am.
Quite frankly, even if the company were entirely altruistic, I would probably still not visit because I never found the appeal of their low quality items. It was a wonder that I found myself heading towards the local Wal-mart at 11pm.
I vaguely remembered hearing that it was acceptable for people to openly park their cars for the night in a Wal-mart parking lot. I’m not sure how I even heard this rumor, maybe it was from the documentary; last night I thought it’d be an interesting theory to test.
I drove in expecting to see a small congregation of vans, trucks, and RVs forming on the outskirts of the parking lot. I imagined a camp filled with dark tinted vans, each with its own colorful history of police stakeouts and/or Amber alert kidnappings.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when I found only one parked RV. All of the other vehicles looked like they were normal shoppers. I drove in closer to look for the telltale signs of a fellow road hobo; there would be curtains shut, windows wide open for ventilation, and maybe some form of light emitting from the cracks. I circled the parking lot and didn’t find what I was looking for.
However, I did find the security guard. He sat in his SUV and prowled the lot, occasionally driving up and down the lanes with his flashing orange lights. At first I didn’t pay him any notice; I figured I could park far enough away and he would leave me alone. I reasoned that the evil corporation probably didn’t pay him enough to actively look for trouble. On the other hand, I saw the signs that repeatedly stated “No Overnight Parking or You Will Be Towed”.
As much as I believe that ‘Bad Decisions make Great Stories’, there’s a certain line that has be drawn and having your vehicle towed while you’re still sleeping in it is not something that I’d like the pleasure of retelling. So instead of risking it, I simply drove up to the guard and asked him if it was acceptable to sleep in my vehicle.
The guard looked over at me with compassion morso than as a figure of authority. He explained how it was his job to make sure that no one parked overnight, with the exception of RVs (which were allowed a 1 day maximum). He gave a heartfelt apology. I told him no worries and that I didn’t want to make his job difficult (or get towed).
Just as I was leaving he mentioned that the lot further down the street (owned by Petco and Vons) was not guarded by anyone. He said I was more than welcome to stay there until the morning.
I thanked him and parked down the street in the nearly empty lot. It felt uncomfortable to be in such an open area, but I thought it’d be neat to try for at least one night. I wish the story ended here with me getting a good nights sleep, but you’ll be surprised at what goes on in a nearly empty parking lot at night.
My first interruption was what sounded like a drug deal that happened at 12:50 am. The two cars had parked approximately three car lengths away from me, with one car probably thinking that I was the initial buyer/seller. I peeked through my tinted window and lifted one of my blackout curtains just slightly to see what was going on. Since there wasn't much sound proofing in my vehicle, I could clearly hear their conversation, but I wasn't sure exactly what they were buying/selling, though it definitely seemed like a drug deal. After the deal, they surprised me with a quick conversation about the state of politics. Hmm, who would've thought?
I was woken from my sleep a second time by the sound of a nearby heavy engine. It scared me thinking that it was a tow truck. I hastily looked around and luckily it wasn’t. At this point, I started sleeping with my jeans on in case I needed to make a quick escape. It’s barely 2:30 am.
The third time I woke up hearing an engine rev loudly. This time I woke up more annoyed than frightened, thinking “Are you serious?” I looked through the back window to find someone working on his car just a few feet from my tailgate bumper. I look over at my cell phone and wonder who works on their car at 4 am in an empty parking lot?! After a few minutes, I hear his car revving away into the night (or what was left of it).
I've decided that I’m done with parking lots. I head back to my favorite spot, an apartment complex that sits inconspicuously a block away from the police station. I need whatever sleep I can get; I have work at 8:00 am.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Do Your Ethics Correlate to Your Debt + Standard of Living?
Let's say that tomorrow, the company you work for does a legal, but unethical thing. Although it really depends on what the situation is, I'd like to ask this main question for tonight's blog post, "What's the extent that you as a person, are willing to do based on your personal morals and societies' laws?"
If a legal, but unethical situation happens, I would assume that most people would try to fix the issue, say through a manager or their human resources department. Now what if nothing is done about the complaint? Do you bring the issue up again? Maybe. Would you quit or even risk your job? Probably not. People have credit card debt, student loans, car payments, cell phone bills, electric, and rent/mortgage payments.
This got me thinking about what I would personally do. I find that the higher my standard of living and the larger my debt, the higher chances that I have of compromising who I am, what I believe in, and what I do. For example, I know that right now if I ran into an unethical situation at work, I have no qualms about quitting. Its hard to imagine, but if I had a house payment (or was trying to support a wife and 3 kids), that even if something grossly unethical happened at work, I would be a lot less inclined to quit or risk my job. Some would say that given the latter scenario of a dependent household, I would not have the freedom or the luxury.
Now let's take it a step further. What if an illegal and unethical situation happens? Would we still look the other way? Would you quit? Some people may say to look for another job, but what if taking another job means making less money and not being able to support your current standard of living? We all talk big, but who would really lower their standard of living if the unethical/illegal situation does not affect them directly?
These are just some thoughts going through my head right now. Today I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. I was scheduled to help interview 7 people for a new job posting in my company. I had time to glance over all of the resumes and knew that everyone was older and had much more experience than me; some of the people being interviewed were easily twice my age. None of that bothered me in the slightest because I knew my database.
What bothered me was that the job was posted with a vague description and it was designed without consulting the current staff. I'm still not sure who posted it, but with all due respect, they had no idea what they were writing. It pretty much asked for a Technical Program Manager position without stating the actual duties involved.
As a nerd, let me just say that a nerd is not just a nerd. I could break it down thoroughly, but for the most part a hardware nerd is much different than a software nerd. Hardware nerds are knowledgeable about subjects like servers, routers, firewalls, switches, and network infrastructure. The software nerds are knowledgeable about different programs and it also gets really specific; for example, there's a world of difference between high level programming and low level programming. Today we were looking at who could do queries, report design, database migrations, and database merges.
The list can go on for both categories, but needless to say we were looking for a very specific skill set (even though the posting didn't specify it). It'd be the equivalent of hiring for a restaurant at an upscale French restaurant saying "Need good chef" without mentioning whether they're seeking a sous-chef or pastry chef.
It's difficult to explain how this even happened. I heard that the position was posted last week (by an unknown person to me). Interviews were then scheduled immediately by the Executive Director. Since learning about the posting, I've asked for the job description (since I'm helping with the interviews), but did not get any straight answers. Since the ED has only been here for a month, I asked quite frankly if the ED knew what the current staff even did (much less try to hire new staff).
The ED finally responded back to me with a list of the duties that everyone in the team was responsible for. We looked at the list for a few minutes and could tell that the ED didn't even know what we were doing. I got the list yesterday and replied, but have not heard anything about it yet. It gets a lot more complicated with the history of the organization, but let's say that its provoked me to think about the state of affairs here.
I have mixed feelings about this whole situation. For the most part, I laugh at how absurd everything is. What I can tell you about this whole situation is that I am VERY thankful that I do not have anymore debt (including student loans). Without debt, I feel like I have my freedom. I do not need to stay at this company if I disagree with how it is run. I do not create a situation where I need the money in order for me to maintain my standard of living (however low that is). I cannot be happier with how I'm living (even if I am living in my truck). I can't take a shower whenever I want, but I never need to compromise who I am.
If a legal, but unethical situation happens, I would assume that most people would try to fix the issue, say through a manager or their human resources department. Now what if nothing is done about the complaint? Do you bring the issue up again? Maybe. Would you quit or even risk your job? Probably not. People have credit card debt, student loans, car payments, cell phone bills, electric, and rent/mortgage payments.
This got me thinking about what I would personally do. I find that the higher my standard of living and the larger my debt, the higher chances that I have of compromising who I am, what I believe in, and what I do. For example, I know that right now if I ran into an unethical situation at work, I have no qualms about quitting. Its hard to imagine, but if I had a house payment (or was trying to support a wife and 3 kids), that even if something grossly unethical happened at work, I would be a lot less inclined to quit or risk my job. Some would say that given the latter scenario of a dependent household, I would not have the freedom or the luxury.
Now let's take it a step further. What if an illegal and unethical situation happens? Would we still look the other way? Would you quit? Some people may say to look for another job, but what if taking another job means making less money and not being able to support your current standard of living? We all talk big, but who would really lower their standard of living if the unethical/illegal situation does not affect them directly?
These are just some thoughts going through my head right now. Today I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. I was scheduled to help interview 7 people for a new job posting in my company. I had time to glance over all of the resumes and knew that everyone was older and had much more experience than me; some of the people being interviewed were easily twice my age. None of that bothered me in the slightest because I knew my database.
What bothered me was that the job was posted with a vague description and it was designed without consulting the current staff. I'm still not sure who posted it, but with all due respect, they had no idea what they were writing. It pretty much asked for a Technical Program Manager position without stating the actual duties involved.
As a nerd, let me just say that a nerd is not just a nerd. I could break it down thoroughly, but for the most part a hardware nerd is much different than a software nerd. Hardware nerds are knowledgeable about subjects like servers, routers, firewalls, switches, and network infrastructure. The software nerds are knowledgeable about different programs and it also gets really specific; for example, there's a world of difference between high level programming and low level programming. Today we were looking at who could do queries, report design, database migrations, and database merges.
The list can go on for both categories, but needless to say we were looking for a very specific skill set (even though the posting didn't specify it). It'd be the equivalent of hiring for a restaurant at an upscale French restaurant saying "Need good chef" without mentioning whether they're seeking a sous-chef or pastry chef.
It's difficult to explain how this even happened. I heard that the position was posted last week (by an unknown person to me). Interviews were then scheduled immediately by the Executive Director. Since learning about the posting, I've asked for the job description (since I'm helping with the interviews), but did not get any straight answers. Since the ED has only been here for a month, I asked quite frankly if the ED knew what the current staff even did (much less try to hire new staff).
The ED finally responded back to me with a list of the duties that everyone in the team was responsible for. We looked at the list for a few minutes and could tell that the ED didn't even know what we were doing. I got the list yesterday and replied, but have not heard anything about it yet. It gets a lot more complicated with the history of the organization, but let's say that its provoked me to think about the state of affairs here.
I have mixed feelings about this whole situation. For the most part, I laugh at how absurd everything is. What I can tell you about this whole situation is that I am VERY thankful that I do not have anymore debt (including student loans). Without debt, I feel like I have my freedom. I do not need to stay at this company if I disagree with how it is run. I do not create a situation where I need the money in order for me to maintain my standard of living (however low that is). I cannot be happier with how I'm living (even if I am living in my truck). I can't take a shower whenever I want, but I never need to compromise who I am.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The People You Meet!
Trying to find cover from San Diego's harsh afternoon sunlight, I situated myself under a tree in a secluded section of the park. After reading for a couple of hours, I decided to take a nap. Despite finding a nice area, beams of searing light still passed through the thin branches. Improvising, I shielded my eyes with a book before falling asleep.
I woke up to hear the grass rustling heavily around me. The noises that woke me weren't from the surrounding sounds in the park, but instead came from something very close; it sounded almost at arms reach away. Being incredibly lazy, I peaked through the book to see what was causing the sounds.
There stood an ugly pit bull, panting from the heat and sniffing the grass at an uncomfortable distance; the dog's nose was literally an inch from me. I removed the book and saw that the pit-bull wore a chain leash. Holding the other end of the leash was the owner, who was letting his dog sniff me as if I had somehow farted sweet cinnamon rolls in my sleep and it was only natural for them to come investigate.
Not only did it seem creepy enough to wake up having a strange dog smelling you, but the pet owner was even creepier. He looked around my age, but dirtier; that says a lot about someone when you're dirtier than a homeless person. He looked directly at me when I glanced at him. I wondered for a moment, how long he stood staring at me before I woke up. I quickly brushed the thought away and scanned the area, finding that the rest of the park had plenty of other trees with shade.
I looked back at the owner with an expression of "WTF" written across my face. Common sense dictates that taking a nap at a public park is normal. However, it’s not normal (and it seems downright rude) to purposely let your dog sniff someone whose napping. Besides that, you do not just stand there and stare at people sleeping! Having just woken up, the best I could manage was saying "Ummmm... hi, what are you doing?" while giving my best scowl.
The slow witted pet owner misinterpreted my hostility and instead got the impression that I wanted a casual conversation with him. He asked if the book I was reading (Gregory Maguire's 'Wicked') was anything like Stephen King books. Hoping to end our conversation there, I bluntly replied no.
He continued onto a rant about how his parents tell him not to read Stephen King books, but he does it anyway because he's a ‘rebel’. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that his dog is too close to me, but he magically hears something different. I guess people hear what they want to hear.
What I say: “Why did you let your dog get that close to me when I’m sleeping?”
He seems to hear something different and replies: “Don’t worry, he’s a good dog. He’s a mix between a chow and a pit bull. I’ve had him for two years and he's so energetic, etc…”
This goes on for a couple minutes where whenever I hint for him to get lost, he believes I'm thoroughly enjoying his company and would like nothing more than to continue our exciting dialogue. I resist the urge to outright tell the crazy guy and his dog to leave so I can nap in peace.
As I'm trying to find a polite way of ending our 'conversation', he tells me how he lives with his parents and how he's bored all the time, but doesn't want to get a job or go to school. A weird feeling comes over me and I start to feel compassion for the guy. Maybe he has serious brain damage and I’m the closest thing to a friend he has. I start to feel like an ass for being the rude one.
After listening to 10 more minutes of his ranting about various subjects and after dispensing some of my own heartfelt advice (get a job), the compassion I felt is officially gone. I decide that he is either really crazy or really stoned. I tell him that I need to go.
Before I leave, he asks for my number and says that we should hang out to play video games, which he assumes that I’m a gamer (I'm sure his parents would have loved to have their unemployed son bring home a homeless person to play video games with him).
Normally I don't lie, but I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not interested; I tell him that I don't have a cell phone and that I don't really like to play video games. I'm a terrible liar and even if he did believe me, my cell phone (which was sitting inside my yoga bag nearby) began to ring. We looked at each other in silence while my cell phone continued to ring until finally the call was forwarded to voice mail. At this point, I'm pretty confident that the guy was stoned beyond belief or seriously messed up in the head because he didn't seem to register that I just received a call.
I quickly and awkwardly said my goodbye. I walked away pretending like I had a place to go, but as soon as he seemed far away, I resettled down to the nearest sturdy tree and started reading again.
Note: Although this was a weird stranger, I've bumped into many friendly strangers as well. Just a week ago at midnight, I was parked in a residential zone sitting in the back of the hobotruck folding my laundry neatly into my storage compartments. I had my camping light turned on, but didn't bother to put down the blackout curtains yet since street lighting provided some additional lighting and I didn't want to use my precious batteries.
My activities caught the attention of a cute girl who had just parked nearby. She walked over asking "Are you camping?". I looked over and saw someone a few years younger than me straddling a long board under her small arms. She seemed to have the stereotypical mellow surfer vibe so after being prompted, I explained my story of being homeless by personal choice and how I wanted this personal experience. We talked for a while before she said the board was getting heavy. She pointed out her house nearby and said to knock if I ever needed anything. I thought that was cool of her to offer.
I woke up to hear the grass rustling heavily around me. The noises that woke me weren't from the surrounding sounds in the park, but instead came from something very close; it sounded almost at arms reach away. Being incredibly lazy, I peaked through the book to see what was causing the sounds.
There stood an ugly pit bull, panting from the heat and sniffing the grass at an uncomfortable distance; the dog's nose was literally an inch from me. I removed the book and saw that the pit-bull wore a chain leash. Holding the other end of the leash was the owner, who was letting his dog sniff me as if I had somehow farted sweet cinnamon rolls in my sleep and it was only natural for them to come investigate.
Not only did it seem creepy enough to wake up having a strange dog smelling you, but the pet owner was even creepier. He looked around my age, but dirtier; that says a lot about someone when you're dirtier than a homeless person. He looked directly at me when I glanced at him. I wondered for a moment, how long he stood staring at me before I woke up. I quickly brushed the thought away and scanned the area, finding that the rest of the park had plenty of other trees with shade.
I looked back at the owner with an expression of "WTF" written across my face. Common sense dictates that taking a nap at a public park is normal. However, it’s not normal (and it seems downright rude) to purposely let your dog sniff someone whose napping. Besides that, you do not just stand there and stare at people sleeping! Having just woken up, the best I could manage was saying "Ummmm... hi, what are you doing?" while giving my best scowl.
The slow witted pet owner misinterpreted my hostility and instead got the impression that I wanted a casual conversation with him. He asked if the book I was reading (Gregory Maguire's 'Wicked') was anything like Stephen King books. Hoping to end our conversation there, I bluntly replied no.
He continued onto a rant about how his parents tell him not to read Stephen King books, but he does it anyway because he's a ‘rebel’. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that his dog is too close to me, but he magically hears something different. I guess people hear what they want to hear.
What I say: “Why did you let your dog get that close to me when I’m sleeping?”
He seems to hear something different and replies: “Don’t worry, he’s a good dog. He’s a mix between a chow and a pit bull. I’ve had him for two years and he's so energetic, etc…”
This goes on for a couple minutes where whenever I hint for him to get lost, he believes I'm thoroughly enjoying his company and would like nothing more than to continue our exciting dialogue. I resist the urge to outright tell the crazy guy and his dog to leave so I can nap in peace.
As I'm trying to find a polite way of ending our 'conversation', he tells me how he lives with his parents and how he's bored all the time, but doesn't want to get a job or go to school. A weird feeling comes over me and I start to feel compassion for the guy. Maybe he has serious brain damage and I’m the closest thing to a friend he has. I start to feel like an ass for being the rude one.
After listening to 10 more minutes of his ranting about various subjects and after dispensing some of my own heartfelt advice (get a job), the compassion I felt is officially gone. I decide that he is either really crazy or really stoned. I tell him that I need to go.
Before I leave, he asks for my number and says that we should hang out to play video games, which he assumes that I’m a gamer (I'm sure his parents would have loved to have their unemployed son bring home a homeless person to play video games with him).
Normally I don't lie, but I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not interested; I tell him that I don't have a cell phone and that I don't really like to play video games. I'm a terrible liar and even if he did believe me, my cell phone (which was sitting inside my yoga bag nearby) began to ring. We looked at each other in silence while my cell phone continued to ring until finally the call was forwarded to voice mail. At this point, I'm pretty confident that the guy was stoned beyond belief or seriously messed up in the head because he didn't seem to register that I just received a call.
I quickly and awkwardly said my goodbye. I walked away pretending like I had a place to go, but as soon as he seemed far away, I resettled down to the nearest sturdy tree and started reading again.
Note: Although this was a weird stranger, I've bumped into many friendly strangers as well. Just a week ago at midnight, I was parked in a residential zone sitting in the back of the hobotruck folding my laundry neatly into my storage compartments. I had my camping light turned on, but didn't bother to put down the blackout curtains yet since street lighting provided some additional lighting and I didn't want to use my precious batteries.
My activities caught the attention of a cute girl who had just parked nearby. She walked over asking "Are you camping?". I looked over and saw someone a few years younger than me straddling a long board under her small arms. She seemed to have the stereotypical mellow surfer vibe so after being prompted, I explained my story of being homeless by personal choice and how I wanted this personal experience. We talked for a while before she said the board was getting heavy. She pointed out her house nearby and said to knock if I ever needed anything. I thought that was cool of her to offer.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Ever been interviewed by a homeless guy?
I've been homeless for about two weeks now. This week I've been reviewing resumes and next week I'll start interviewing people for a new position in the company. What has this world come to? Homeless people are interviewing people for jobs!
Its such a strange feeling to be on the other side filtering the resumes instead of submitting them. For the position that we'll start interviewing next week, many of the applicants have their masters degree. We're also hiring a junior position that will mirror my job. I'm looking at my qualifications and I don't think even I meet the posted qualifications for my own job.
Its such a strange feeling to be on the other side filtering the resumes instead of submitting them. For the position that we'll start interviewing next week, many of the applicants have their masters degree. We're also hiring a junior position that will mirror my job. I'm looking at my qualifications and I don't think even I meet the posted qualifications for my own job.
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