New Yauk
I realize it's been quite some time since I've last updated, but I have been fairly busy recently. As opposed to my normal posts, I figure I'll go off on a bit of rant, and see what words my brain forwards to my fingers as they seem to keep typing without me knowing what's coming out.
So, where to begin...
My best friend Rick (the non-argyle one) graduated from college last September. While he was still in school and came back to New Jersey, he voiced his frustration at having to live in the house where he grew up, as it was utterly ridiculous. The environment was caused mainly by an unwelcome daughter who had nowhere else to turn and was granted access only in order to save the growing-up experience of her son. When combined with the stress of a full-time working, single mother who was struggling to raise her youngest child while still trying to preserve a personal life, a menial task such as taking a simple seat on the couch to watch a little television became as unpleasurable as that last time I tried fitting my neighbour's Volkswagen in my ass. While sharing these experiences with him due to my unofficial family ststus, we came to the conclusion that we needed to spring forth from the town in which we graduated high school.
Upon the graduation, the apartment hunting for in-area locations began. After some time, we came to the decision that perhaps a temporary job while waiting for a much-better-paying job in a field where he could use his video game design/programming degrees wasn't going to work out well. We shortly thereafter started redoubling the resume dispersement efforts to a larger multitude of programming jobs, with a few displaying significant interest. One such job was located right near Chapel Hill, North Carolina. For those of you who heard my excited chatter about N.C., I apologize. Evidently conference calls, flying applicants hundreds of miles, and administering multiple programming tests do not mean a company is going to hire you.
So we found ourselves back at the drawing board, sweating the date ever drawing nearer: initial loan repayment plan, day #1. While continuing to submit resumes to any job in the country for which he was qualified, he realized he could greatly improve the number of possible jobs by learning a new programming language. $80 dollars of finely-written coding book and 5 days later, he found himself halfway through the 800-page book, and significantly versed in basic knowledge of the new language. At this point, he got a phone call from his college roomate, who had just landed a job with a genetics company in New York state.
The next day, a Friday, my best friend submits a resume to the same company. Within 15 minutes, he receivs a call back. An interview is set up for the following day. Mapquest to the rescue. At work on Saturday, I get a text message saying "I got the job". Trying to offer good advice, I call him back and inform him he shouldn't get his hopes up, lest they be dashes as with the previous job. He tells me that he starts in 2 days. I accept this to be a fairly certain sign of their interest in hiring him.
I happen to have off that Monday and Tuesday, and consent to drive to a nearby city that Sunday night and rent a hotel room until Tuesday night with him, in order to attempt to find a store in the area that I could transfer to, and also find an apartment we can move into. I amazingly find a store about 30-35 miles away from his job that had a Human Resources manager working on Monday. On Tuesday I get a call back from said HR manager informing me that she had called my current store's HR manager and he explained I had suggested that I was interested in transferring to another store. I also find out that the store I called was actually hiring, and that my current position in current department was needed.
I chose this time of moderate uncertainty that this transfer was going to happen to start looking for an apartment. After trying to find apartments in a town halfway between our jobs, I found 2 possibilites on Wednesday and Thursday, and made an appointment for the following Saturday with both. On Friday, we decided to check the secondone I had found first. Using Mapquest to navigate to this strange little town, we were immediately overwhelmed with the community of apartments. The apartment unit itself was quite impressive, and also included access to the community basketball and tennis courts, heated outdoor pool, gym, movie theater, business conference room, and main lodge. We voice our interest and take a shot on the approval going through for 2 young schmucks with less-than-attractive credit on a Saturday, assuming we'll be initially denied but follow-up once the credit center opens the following week with information on needing a cosigner, or simply being flat-out denied due to credit reports. To our surprise, we were approved. We asked to be able to move in ASAP. Evidently the very next day is sooner an 'ASAP' than the realtor had in mind. We expediently informed her of her overestimation, and moved in on the last Sunday in January - amazingly my corporately-mandated schedule happened to give me off that entire weekend.
At work in New Jersey, I told the store manager that I was going to be leaving in order to work in another store. He wanted me to stay for 4 weeks. The new store wanted me to start working in 0 weeks, thanks in part to my HR manager giving them a very favourable (but not untrue) report of my work ethic, product knowledge, and the like. My HR manager speaks with the NY HR manager and gets her to promise the store will move people around a little to hold the position for me. My start date for the NY store is arranged to be 02/18, which meant working 5 days of the week 2/18-2/24. During this period I make multiple trips to and from the apartment, making my car's odometer spin like a pinwheel in a wind tunnel. I ask my manager for that Thursday/Friday off in order to obtain a moving truck. We haul all the large items (couch, bed, et al) and basically relax on Saturday. I start work on Sunday.
That brings us up until a week ago. Since that time, we've gotten little done other than eating and drinking and smoking. Speaking of drinking, we've both recently developed a taste for straight scotch. Johnny Walker in all his glorious forms has become our home's mascot.
And for my weekly brag, I can proudly proclaim that after coming home from work on Friday night, my roomate nearly tackled me as I entered, quite thoroughly inebbriated. He lost track of shots of Johnny somewhere around number 6. In his estimation, he was between 7 and 9 shots. I stated that I had catching up to do, and promptly measured and dumped the contents of 4 2oz. shot glasses into a glass, then proceeded to chug the entire cup in roughly 3-4 seconds. After taking about 5 minutes to let it start sinking in, I repeated the process, decreasing the quantity to 3 of the glassfuls. Another 5 or so minutes later and a repeat again, this time of 2. Finally, I poured each of us a shot and we clinked the glasses, then threw back our heads and final shots of Johnny. I can't recall much after the first 30 minutes I came home.
In conclusion, I've moved. My home number is no longer my home number. My cell number is still the same, though the phone itself blows the old product out of the water. Currently broke as hell due to the whole moving experience and necessary items that needed to be purchased. However, my roomate is cool as hell and anyone who's bored and/or just misses seeing my handsome face, by all means drop me a text, call, or email.
So, where to begin...
My best friend Rick (the non-argyle one) graduated from college last September. While he was still in school and came back to New Jersey, he voiced his frustration at having to live in the house where he grew up, as it was utterly ridiculous. The environment was caused mainly by an unwelcome daughter who had nowhere else to turn and was granted access only in order to save the growing-up experience of her son. When combined with the stress of a full-time working, single mother who was struggling to raise her youngest child while still trying to preserve a personal life, a menial task such as taking a simple seat on the couch to watch a little television became as unpleasurable as that last time I tried fitting my neighbour's Volkswagen in my ass. While sharing these experiences with him due to my unofficial family ststus, we came to the conclusion that we needed to spring forth from the town in which we graduated high school.
Upon the graduation, the apartment hunting for in-area locations began. After some time, we came to the decision that perhaps a temporary job while waiting for a much-better-paying job in a field where he could use his video game design/programming degrees wasn't going to work out well. We shortly thereafter started redoubling the resume dispersement efforts to a larger multitude of programming jobs, with a few displaying significant interest. One such job was located right near Chapel Hill, North Carolina. For those of you who heard my excited chatter about N.C., I apologize. Evidently conference calls, flying applicants hundreds of miles, and administering multiple programming tests do not mean a company is going to hire you.
So we found ourselves back at the drawing board, sweating the date ever drawing nearer: initial loan repayment plan, day #1. While continuing to submit resumes to any job in the country for which he was qualified, he realized he could greatly improve the number of possible jobs by learning a new programming language. $80 dollars of finely-written coding book and 5 days later, he found himself halfway through the 800-page book, and significantly versed in basic knowledge of the new language. At this point, he got a phone call from his college roomate, who had just landed a job with a genetics company in New York state.
The next day, a Friday, my best friend submits a resume to the same company. Within 15 minutes, he receivs a call back. An interview is set up for the following day. Mapquest to the rescue. At work on Saturday, I get a text message saying "I got the job". Trying to offer good advice, I call him back and inform him he shouldn't get his hopes up, lest they be dashes as with the previous job. He tells me that he starts in 2 days. I accept this to be a fairly certain sign of their interest in hiring him.
I happen to have off that Monday and Tuesday, and consent to drive to a nearby city that Sunday night and rent a hotel room until Tuesday night with him, in order to attempt to find a store in the area that I could transfer to, and also find an apartment we can move into. I amazingly find a store about 30-35 miles away from his job that had a Human Resources manager working on Monday. On Tuesday I get a call back from said HR manager informing me that she had called my current store's HR manager and he explained I had suggested that I was interested in transferring to another store. I also find out that the store I called was actually hiring, and that my current position in current department was needed.
I chose this time of moderate uncertainty that this transfer was going to happen to start looking for an apartment. After trying to find apartments in a town halfway between our jobs, I found 2 possibilites on Wednesday and Thursday, and made an appointment for the following Saturday with both. On Friday, we decided to check the secondone I had found first. Using Mapquest to navigate to this strange little town, we were immediately overwhelmed with the community of apartments. The apartment unit itself was quite impressive, and also included access to the community basketball and tennis courts, heated outdoor pool, gym, movie theater, business conference room, and main lodge. We voice our interest and take a shot on the approval going through for 2 young schmucks with less-than-attractive credit on a Saturday, assuming we'll be initially denied but follow-up once the credit center opens the following week with information on needing a cosigner, or simply being flat-out denied due to credit reports. To our surprise, we were approved. We asked to be able to move in ASAP. Evidently the very next day is sooner an 'ASAP' than the realtor had in mind. We expediently informed her of her overestimation, and moved in on the last Sunday in January - amazingly my corporately-mandated schedule happened to give me off that entire weekend.
At work in New Jersey, I told the store manager that I was going to be leaving in order to work in another store. He wanted me to stay for 4 weeks. The new store wanted me to start working in 0 weeks, thanks in part to my HR manager giving them a very favourable (but not untrue) report of my work ethic, product knowledge, and the like. My HR manager speaks with the NY HR manager and gets her to promise the store will move people around a little to hold the position for me. My start date for the NY store is arranged to be 02/18, which meant working 5 days of the week 2/18-2/24. During this period I make multiple trips to and from the apartment, making my car's odometer spin like a pinwheel in a wind tunnel. I ask my manager for that Thursday/Friday off in order to obtain a moving truck. We haul all the large items (couch, bed, et al) and basically relax on Saturday. I start work on Sunday.
That brings us up until a week ago. Since that time, we've gotten little done other than eating and drinking and smoking. Speaking of drinking, we've both recently developed a taste for straight scotch. Johnny Walker in all his glorious forms has become our home's mascot.
And for my weekly brag, I can proudly proclaim that after coming home from work on Friday night, my roomate nearly tackled me as I entered, quite thoroughly inebbriated. He lost track of shots of Johnny somewhere around number 6. In his estimation, he was between 7 and 9 shots. I stated that I had catching up to do, and promptly measured and dumped the contents of 4 2oz. shot glasses into a glass, then proceeded to chug the entire cup in roughly 3-4 seconds. After taking about 5 minutes to let it start sinking in, I repeated the process, decreasing the quantity to 3 of the glassfuls. Another 5 or so minutes later and a repeat again, this time of 2. Finally, I poured each of us a shot and we clinked the glasses, then threw back our heads and final shots of Johnny. I can't recall much after the first 30 minutes I came home.
In conclusion, I've moved. My home number is no longer my home number. My cell number is still the same, though the phone itself blows the old product out of the water. Currently broke as hell due to the whole moving experience and necessary items that needed to be purchased. However, my roomate is cool as hell and anyone who's bored and/or just misses seeing my handsome face, by all means drop me a text, call, or email.