Monday, June 18, 2007

It's That Time Again!


Hooray, drum corps season has started!!!!

Opening weekend of DCI summer tour was this past weekend, with shows in Coon Rapids MN, Pleasant Hills CA, Annapolis MD, Stockton CA, Menomonie WI, and Pittsburgh PA. I've been looking at scores, and here's what I project for top 12:


1. SCV

2. Phantom Regiment

3. Blue Devils

4. Cavaliers

5. Bluecoats

6. Cadets

7. Carolina Crown

8. Blue Knights

9. Glassmen

10. Madison Scouts

11. Colts

12. Blue Stars


I'll try not to post too much about corps, but I'll post finals scores to compare with this list.


In other news, I started my Manager Certification Training class today. I sat in class for 5 hours, but it was really pretty awesome, and although I'm the youngest in my training class, I have the most managerial experience (and the most at my business too). We had to sign forms saying we wouldn't sell the secrets they tell us, and since I'm actually learning the secrets now, I took it a bit more seriously than the form I signed when I was hired.


And lastly I called this girl today. We've been doing things together recently, but never by ourselves. I feel like since my job has become a career, and I've moved out of my parent's house I should step up my personal life too, but it's harder than it should be. It took a good deal of psyching up to finally call her, and in the end I got her voicemail. It was my chance to be a man about it, and this is what I said

"Hey there, it's polio... um... just calling to say 'Hey'... oh and um...to see if you wanted to come out with us tonight... bye"


They call me Mr. Smooth.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

Interview

The story of my interview, which took place Tuesday, begins at Macy's. I had been looking forward with nervous excitement to this for a while, but after a few weeks of mentally preparing myself for an interview in front of 25 people twice my age, I had only one base left to cover: fashion.

Last week I drove to work only to realize in the parking lot that I had forgotten shoes. This presented a problem, as I live an hour away from work, so I called my boss, told him I had had a "bathroom emergency," and ran to Shoe Carnival. I dashed through the aisles and found a pair of Diesel-esque brown suede shoes which I thought looked good, and bought them. My boss had no problem, and was relieved to find that I had not pooped in my pants.

With a good pair of shoes in hand, a pair of dark khaki pants, and socks, I went to Macy's to find the rest of my ensemble. Two of my close friends work in the jewelry department, so I started off by asking them for advice. My boss suggested a polo, so I stuck with that, but it took us about 2 hours to decide on what color would be best. 2 hours later we decided on... black.

By this time it was 8:30, and the mall closed at 9, so I scurried over to Express and picked out a black polo, went to the GAP to buy a kelly green T to wear underneath, and then went back to Macy's, since we'd decided that my pants were to dark, and I required a lighter khaki.

(Author's note: This reminds me of a date I went on Freshman year of college when I spent an hour and a half doing my nails, only to look at the clock and realize I had no time for a shower. Needless to say we did not go out again.)

I looked exceedingly dapper on the morning of the 5th, and came into the meeting with a professional smile and a strong shaking hand. We sat down at 7:30 to discuss business, beginning with reports and goals for next period, and went through our agenda with molasses-like speed. Perhaps it was the president of the company sitting to my left that made time pass so slowly, or maybe it was the amount of Squirt I had consumed coupled with my lack of undergarments that put me on edge, but by the time it was my turn to speak I could swear they had turned down the house lights and fixed a spot on me.

I was introduced by my manager, and then left alone at the head of the table. I took questions for about 15 minutes (only fifteen?!!? no way, it must have been 3,748,262,995), and was stopped halfway through by the president saying that he would just like to say that I was doing impressively well: I was looking everyone in the eye, standing tall and confident, and was giving well thought-out and to-the-point answers. Whew, my first breath in ages.

Afterwards, my boss talked with the payroll lady, and confirmed that my salaried position would begin the next day, talked with the head of training to confirm that I would begin the training class on June 18th, and then talked with me to confirm that I "f***ing killed it!"

To celebrate, I treated myself to something I've wanted to do for a while now, but hadn't taken the plunge: I got tatoos. Two to be exact. There are now two sets of eighth notes, one on each arm, with the left having crescent moons as note heads, and the right having flaming suns as heads. I go back in about 2 weeks to add a staff (treble clef on the right arm, bass on the left) that wraps around and under the big notes. If anyone's interested, I'll post pics when I get a camera working.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Sleep... Finally




I just finished 3 very long days at work, it's almost 4 AM and I just drove an hour to get home. I'll blog tomorrow about my interview, and *hopefully* find a way to upload pictures of my new tatoos.


Right now though, I'm just gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow afternoon.

Saturday, June 2, 2007

Tan Lines

I don't want to come off as vain, but I look damn good with a nice tan. I'm naturally tan, due to a bit of ethnic diversity, and the sun only serves to compound my bronzy tone. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I turn out to be Mister Hawaiian Tropic, but I've got a good head start on the competition. I tend to burn in the face, but I honestly can't remember the last time anything below my shoulders burned, and the damage to my face only lasts a few days.

Last summer my own mother didn't recognize me after my corps tan, and when I came home for the 4th of July, my ex-gf asked "who's that mexican guy?" It was me hun, it was me. I sent my mom a really great picture, that, if she weren't driving to Canada right now, I would call her for and post here. It's a shot of my legs and feet, in which my feet are ghostly in comparison to the near-blackness of my calves.

I didn't catch the worst of it either: a trumpet player named Justin burned himself so badly that his shoulders turned bubblegum pink, sprouted massive blisters that oozed for a few days, then burst open leaving cracks all over his shoulders. This caused our director to one day shout from the scaffold, "Baritones you were late on that last entrance, and Justin, for god's sake put a shirt on."


Drummers are often fond of their so-called "Harness tans." No it's nothing kinky, it's just the lines from their drum harnesses, leaving them with lines around this

It should be noted that everyone can have their own special set of lines. I believe in fairness, so here's a shout out to all you beach bunnies, surfer dudes, and even you nerds who get a watch tan on your way to Radio Shack.