Just another job?

I tend to have odd jobs, or at least jobs with odd aspects. I’ve been a fireworks guard, tried to get Samoans to play half-court, had my own lawn mowing business, worked at a Blimpie’s in a gas station, onion research assistant, confused intern in Brazil, legit loan shark and collector, worked for the company that first came up with sub-prime mortgages, and now I work in the admissions office at Brandeis.

The job is awesome! I really enjoy it. The people I work with are great. However, there is a major weirdness factor to my job. One of my main duties is to answer emails from potential students. The vast majority of our emails come from foreign countries, close to 90%. I enjoy some of the emails immensely. For instance, I am convinced that instead of saying I have a problem, I’m going to say, a problem arose right unexpectedly. There have been many more. Emails from the prospectives is just part of the fun.

I also delete a ton of grammatically incorrect spam mail. Some of the email phrasings are pretty classic and sometimes a little bit disturbing. Most are for ladies, so I won’t write those, but I think if you want to try to make an email message romantic Google translate might not be the best option. A lot are petitions asking for funds usually to free some political prisoner or some other worthy cause. I wonder how many times those things actually work.

November 2

In order to reach my goal of 2 posts for the month of November, here we go. School is winding down. I have 1 final and a bunch of presentations, papers, and assignments left. Today I have a presentation for my Asia economy class. We’re taking the position that a Chinese company should acquire a Japanese company to vertically integrate wind turbine production to supply wind power companies with the entire product.


The interesting part is I’ve already been told I look like Carlton and satan today, so much for dressing up. I guess it might be the red, slightly styled, hair; the awesome suite sweater combo; or the facial hair I’m trying to sport. Even though my goal is not necessarily to appear “evil”, I guess I am achieving the goal of looking businessy. Though I think saying I look like Satan is a stretch; well to be honest, Carlton is also a stretch. Hopefully our presentation goes well. Luckily the presentation is only 10 minutes and it’s pretty hard to have a lot go wrong in just 10 minutes (knock on wood).

Christmas is coming and I’m getting pretty excited for that. It’ll be nice to see the family again. I should probably get started on my Christmas shopping.

November 1

In order to meet my goal of 2 blog posts in a month I have decided to finally get started. It hasn’t snowed in Boston yet; thank goodness. The word is, it’s pretty cold, but I have some doubts; more on this to come.

The professors are still trying to destroy me. It isn’t so much the difficulty, but the quantity. The Financial Modeling class I’m in is fascinating. Basically you look at a bunch of data and make financial decision. The only problem is the assignments take a minimum of 5 hours to complete. Also, they need to take modeling out of the title. It makes it sound sexier than it really is.

On a completely different note, I found a place with racquetball courts. Way too much time has gone by since I’ve played. Squash is fun, but really can’t quite compare. Plus, it can make a good fall back date.

I also would highly recommend that anyone that visits Boston visit the Boston Museum. I went this past weekend and thoroughly enjoyed myself. They even have an indoor monkey room, and yes they are live monkeys! They weren’t really freaking out too much, but I bet if I keep going back I can make something happen.

The knee bone's connected to the...

The owl pellet date was a success. Turns out I learned a few things. A leg bone isn’t just called a leg bone, and science kind of got carried away naming things. In my opinion, ridiculous! If I want to call a bone “the arm dealy”, that should be okay.

The date was as hot and steamy as sorting through tiny bones you find in owl vomit can be, at first I thought owl pellets were excrement. That would have made the date even hotter, am I right? My date was nice enough to feed me before we started the bone removal. After 3 hours the removal of all bones was complete.

I also learned a few things about myself, which maybe I had an inkling of before. I’ve never really like jig-saw puzzles. Basically, the very idea of doing a puzzle is counterproductive. You have a picture of something and you decide to cut it up and have people put it together again. No sane person would do this. I think there might be better ways to spend a few hours than trying to guess whether a little piece of yellow card board is the sun, car door, or a dandelion.

Turns out nature has created one of the best jig-saw puzzles, the owl pellet. Seeing as how puzzles and I don’t get along, I have reevaluated my position on the novelty of owl pellets. I guess I went into the endeavor with the idea that it would be more like a treasure hunt. You know, find the skull and what not. Turns out sorting through little bitty ribs and vertebrate for hours is the most intense jig-saw puzzle I’ve ever encountered. I maintained composer and I’ll have to admit all the fur encasing the bones was very soft. Also, they didn't smell weird.

My date really seemed to enjoy it; my guess is she also really enjoys puzzles. I was impressed with her science abilities, plus she was attractive. All in all, a good evening.

Ye Olde Boston

I made it. It was quite the experience. Driving 3000 miles with my dad was some serious bonding. The trip was the essence of manliness. We didn't stop to eat, and we only went to the bathroom when we had to fill the car with gas. The only food we had to survive on was diet coke and peanut M&M's. We went through corn country instead of the quicker route, up by the Great Lakes; o the power of women (although in this case ultimately futile).

Brandeis started classes/orientation the Sunday I arrived so I didn't really have time buy anything. Due to this I slept on the floor for about month. The spiders drove me from the floor. By the way, Ikea is the bomb, I now have an awesome bed.

My classes are going great and the diversity is as promised. Americans are only 30% of the student body. I have only pulled one all-nighter so far, a little bit early in the semester, but what can you do?

I had my car broken into and my GPS and iPod stolen. In all sincerity the only thing that really bothered me was all the broken glass. I guess I should be more grateful that they didn't steal the car. The dating life has picked up again, and I think I'm doing my part at keeping the ladies on edge. There's nothing quite like it. I figure they better know what they're in for right up front, sometimes this works and sometimes it WORKS! On the docket for this week, dissecting owl pellets. Yep, ladies I found a girl that might actually enjoy this. But seriously who doesn't find going through owl excrement romantic?

(More blog post to come. I think perhaps the owl pellet date might be my first specific date blog.)

Let's do this thing!

Lately I’ve been having run-ins with olderish gentlemen. This latest incidence and almost getting in a fight in a Sam’s Club parking lot. First off, I’m not opposed to the baby boomers, my dad is one. Granted, I have tried to take him out on more than one occasion. Perhaps, my latest run-in is due, in part, to karma. I don’t think so, my dad always has it coming; and it keeps him spry.

Midway is a great town. Founded by the Swiss, Midway shares many characteristics of the modern day Switzerland, such as neutrality and non-aggression. They have great events there.

I decided to go on a date there. It was a Jazz concert and it was free, bonus! While my date and I were walking to the grass seating area I had to stop by the restroom. As is my custom I make noises when I hear the door to the restroom open; groans, tapping of the feet, and the like. This usually lets people know that the stall is occupied.

The door opened and as I finished my noise routine I relaxed a bit. The next thing I know this 60ish year old man with a cowboy hat is peeking over the top of the stall. Weird right! We made eye contact and he grunted something about not knowing the stall was occupied. I guess I didn’t make enough noise, sounds like I need to invest in an air horn.

I finished my business and made my way to the sink. The peeper was finishing his business at the urinal and left. I dried my hands and left the bathroom, ready to meet up with my date. As I was walking in the parking lot this 60ish year old man turned to me and asked if I’d washed my hands. I responded enthusiastically that I had. I was even slightly proud of the fact. After my response Mr. Cowboy looked at me and gruffly responded, “I don’t think you did!”

Shocked, my date and I both stopped and just looked at this modern day cowboy of cleanliness. There was tension in the air as the elderly cowboy’s hand inched closer to his Leatherman. I didn’t press the matter and we left without resorting to blows/stabbing.

I don’t know what it is. Honestly, who does something like this? The fact that I did wash my hands irked me even more. Anyway, I have no idea who will hassle me next. However, I’m guessing a walker or dentures might be involved.

Death unto Thee!

I’m in the double digits now. The bodies just keep mounting. Every day I see at least one of the enemy. Sometimes I enjoy placing one in the bath tub and watching it try to scurry up the side; they never get very far.

The earwig army has been advancing. A few days ago they officially crossed the 38th parallel, the point of definite aggression. Thus, negating any chance they might have had for mercy. A man can only be pushed so far! I didn’t mind seeing them hiding in the carpet. I didn’t even mind when I found one in my bed.

During the night of July 12, 2010 at 2:23 am I awoke to relieve myself. All went as planned, and I returned refreshed. The loss of moisture had peaked my thirst and I decided to have a little drink. In the darkness I fumbled for the container and place the lip of the bottle to my lips. As I swallowed the cool liquid, letting it pass over my tongue, I felt something move.

My throat at this point immediately sealed off and everything in my mouth was spewed out. I rushed for the light wanting some illumination on what the offending moving liquid could have been. As I cleaned the spit mixture I saw it, horns straight from Satan himself! These horns, however, weren’t located on the head. They were on the creatures back end, the dreaded earwig. The fiends struck a powerful blow. Due to their actions; I have sworn to take upon myself the role of aggressor. No earwig shall be safe!

Until this point the earwigs have been a mild disturbance and somewhat entertaining. My mom really hates the things. Now I too, will do my part to exterminate them. Any living thing that enters my mouth unwanted will incur my wrath! The day of reckoning is at hand my earwig friends, and I shall be victorious!

Tis were (accepted Microsoft grammar checker) awhile since I’ve done any blogging. Things have been a little bit crazy. The working world has claimed another victim. I sit in a giant cubicle with 3 other people-all of us sit with our backs to each other- staring at a computer for 8 hours. It wouldn’t be so bad except we don’t speak to each other, ever. It is odd. My coworkers seem like cool people, but since we never speak I’ll never know. The following diagram shows my work space.

On a positive note, the person on the other side of my cubicle has stopped the daily crying session. I guess they came to terms that there is no escape. I wonder at what point I’d snap and start crying?

Other than work, life is wonderful. I’m back in my parent’s basement, for the time being. I’m a dating fool; I think it’s more appropriate to emphasize the later more than the former. The majority of my dating stories I’d feel bad about posting on the internet. However, they’re awesome! If you want a good laugh sometime, just let me know and I’ll regale you with a dating tale. I enjoy being an uncle, shout-out to Finn! I still play racquetball quite a bit. However, the only person that will play me these days is my dad.

My next big adventure is going to Boston in about a month. I’m super stoked! I should be able to post blog entries a little more often, since I’m in the work grove.

Some of Art

Sometimes at work I get bored. The following is what happens.
I call this one "The Way to Love"

Some sandworm.

The eternal struggle - Bird vs Worm

Ewww Gross!

Funny moments are great. Every once in awhile something just makes you smile. This morning as I was getting some milk and an English Muffin from Lee’s, I got to have myself a little chuckle. As usual the employees were going about there business, seemingly without and sign of disgruntlement.

However, as I was passing the meat department I overheard the lady stacking meat exclaim, “GROSS!” The first thought I had was the lady might be a vegetarian. Wouldn’t that be wild? Hire some vegetarian to stack meat, pretty ironic. It also might have been that the meat was super nasty. Either way I was amused.

Popped eyeballs anyone?

Self-defense classes are awesome and a little weird, even more so when they are done by your church group, FHE. Let me start this off correctly, and by covering my bases, by saying the teachers were great. In case anything in here ever makes its way back to them I don't want to get something broke or pulled out of me.

The class was more oriented towards women; most self-defense classes seem to be this way. As you can imagine talking about being raped at a church outing doesn’t happen very often; it was a little bit awkward. What made it more awkward was the teachers demonstrated the rape position. Both of the teachers were guys. Sorry, no pictures.

Something fascinating, how much emphasis was placed on popping someone’s eyeball out of its socket, or just plain exploding it. I am 100% sure this move would be effective. If someone removed my eyeball, I’d be down for the count. The instructors said if you could actually get the eyeball to explode, well even better. Plus, I imagine, the ocular fluid from an exploded eyeball might give a person powers. I’m reminded of how Native Americans sometimes ate hearts to gain courage. Eyeball fluid should do something; perhaps, jumping higher.

Remember, after an eyeball is popped there will be vomiting; either by the popped or the poppee; be prepared. The added vomit will definitely be an added bonus and a more interesting story once the police arrive. “Officer, I didn’t mean to spew. I just didn’t know removing an eyeball would be so gross.”

The other part I found rather jocular was the demonstration on what to do if you were “on bottom”, or you being raped. One guy straddling another one if front of a room of people is a shock. It’s even more of a shock when the guy on bottom is being strangled by the guy on top. All the while trying to explain to everyone you need to punch this person in the throat or wail away on his junk, and of course, if you get the chance, go for the eyes!

Living la vida loca.

I’ve been single for awhile now; at least this is how I thought of myself. I’ve never really considered myself a bachelor. However, I do believe I have reached bachelordom. The bachelor is an interesting creature. Most are between the ages of 25 and 35. These men have been on their own so long they have adapted to a lifestyle most would find appalling. From eating habits to grooming, there is something most “normals” would find wrong about the bachelor’s lifestyle. I'm sure I'll get a few comments and posts from this post. Also, heads up ladies, the show The Bachelor, completely false.

Last night I came to the realization that I am in fact a bachelor. I was hungry so I decided to go to the store at 10:30 p.m. Now most people don’t go shopping at this time of night. However, everyone should. The variety of people at night is amazing and you never know what you’re going to see. You might see a midget, a pierced lady, a crazy person, even the elusive bearded lady; it is a good bet it will be memorable. Wal-Mart is usually the best place to go if you’re in the mood for a late night exhibition. I was at Smith's.

As I was wondering around I bought a pack of Ho-hos and a Mexican Coke, that’s it. I didn’t buy any vegetables, cleaning products, toiletries, etc.; I bought Ho-hos and Mexican Coke. I imagine I would never do something like this if I was married. It just wouldn’t be done. I’ve seen enough married guys to know what’s up. Even when I’m dating someone I don’t buy stuff like this, often. Women have a great power and ability to train men. The bachelor is a wild animal that has not yet been tamed. I realize that someday some lucky lady will tame me. Until that day I am going to frolic in the woods.

The Ho-hos were delicious, as was the Mexican Coke. I’m not sure eating the hot pickles was a good idea, but they were in the fridge, so I ate them. I finished my Ho-hos, Mexican Coke, and hot pickles while watching some 17 year old girl finish singing some song on American Idol. I hate that show. I slept soundly last night as I was kept company by the serpent women and a leprechaun army. Being a bachelor isn’t all bad. You just have to look at the positives. They’re definitely there.

Limited Time Offer

Life changing product endorsements are rare. However, I’d like to make one; the Sonicare Toothbrush has changed my life. I was tentative that a toothbrush could really be that great. I’d seen the commercials of sound waves destroying the cavity creeps, but I was doubtful. Could it really be? Let me tell you folks, it is 100% the truth. The first time I used it my knees almost gave out. I don’t know if I was overcome by the sudden realization of what I’d been missing, or the vibrations. It was probably the vibrations. It is an amazing piece of equipment. My mom gave me the tooth brush, because she already has an Oral B. What a great lady! However, as you read this mom, remember, no takesy-backsies.

Other than the toothbrush not much else has been going on. I’m still looking for a full-time job and getting ready, as much as possible, for grad school. I went to my Grandma Gwen’s funeral. It was nice, but I’m not a big fan of funerals. The next big advent on the old calendar is a family ski weekend at Brighton . It should be pretty exciting.

Resolution!

I'm not a big fan of New Year's resolutions. Mostly because people make them about trying to be less fat. Perhaps, I'm jealous. After much thought of what I'd really like to accomplish this year I think I've finally got it. I want to learn to sing.

Yep, you heard it from me. I want to learn to sing. While I was growing up I always linked singing with prancing about on a stage and all the stuff that went with that. The people involved in choir at my high school, were, not my type of people. For some reason fun, to them, was dressing up in a costume and singing some weird song with the hopes of kissing a girl or boy that was also prancing about in a costume. Because of this I've always thought singing was weird and never really have tried to sing.

I think this Christmas was also an eye opener/unspeakable abomination. I attempted to sing for our family talent show it was bad! I even have proof. It was recorded. Admittedly, it was half in jest. However, there was more truth to my performance than I would like to admit. Hence, my motivation to stretch my vocal chords and a new found burning desire to find and destroy that tape.

Going to church has helped, I know what music is suppose to sound like. Not enough, but it has helped. I figure if I try to sing one song and maybe even start going to ward choir, I might get better. I think I might even have a pretty good singing voice if I train a little bit. Here's to 2010 and Tyler "Dylan" Smith.

Reading for fun.

Now that I'm a college grad I find I have more time to read for, you guessed it, fun. I enjoy the Dune series. The current book I just finished, the fourth includes: clones; giant man-worm that can see through time, because he did a lot of drugs, and has all the voices of his ancestors in his head; war; business people; creepy old ladies; etc. Basically, the perfect book. I highly recommend the books.

I'm still trying to find a full time job, until I start grad school in the fall. I've applied for all kinds of jobs. It is taking all of my strenght not to go apply at the slaughter house. However, sometimes you gots to do what you gots to do. I've heard stories, and I'm not entirely sure slaughtering animals for 8 hours a day is a healthy mental activity. I bet I'd have some good stories.

For the first time in a long time I'm at a loss because school is starting. It doesn't really affect me. I don't have to registar for classes, weird. However, I am going to take two institute classes this winter. They should be fairly interesting, and at least keep me social.

Becca is also leaving the MTC pretty soon. I'm excited to start hearing some of her mission stories. Assuming she's a better writer than I was. Sorry family, I guess I just figured you could read my mind and know what was going on. Anyway, I'm excited to see how it goes for her.