Lets be intamate!

I recently got a new job. I'll admit it's pretty sweet. I'll be able to go to school and maybe even study a little bit at work. This past week I've been training in West Jordan and reliving the good old days of living in my parents basement, I know, I'm a few steps away from being that creepy guy. As a note, my mom would never let this happen, so I'll never reach that last step. Knock on wood.

Training for my new job was a blast, slightly inappropriate, but a blast none the less. To start off with my training group had 5 guys and 1 girl. Let the hilarity begin. In reality there are almost too many funny experiences to list, so I'll write up one of my favorites. Also, don't worry I haven't quit my translating job. The allure of another opportunity to translate about breast feeding is just too great.

As we all know customer service is important. We don't want to shun the customer or they'll shun us, or rob us, or kidnap us, or stab us, well you get the idea. In order to have the best customer service around the company that hired me wanted us to get creative. Our task was to come up with a "signature". Basically something we did that made the members feel loved. One guy in the group said winking. I said crazy ties. It was pointed out that I should only wear appropriate ones. I guess I'll have to leave my naked lady riding a dragon with a Confederate Flag background tie at home, it's kind of a shame, but rules is rules.

One of my favorite "signatures" was eye contact. I believe in eye contact, just ask any of my past conquests. They loved it. The explanation sealed eye contact as my favorite. It appears that eye contact is the most intimate a person can be with a customer without touching them. In my past jobs I've always wondered how I could be more intimate. I finally have the answer. Staring into someones eyes will give me the ability to get closer to customers without doing things that would normally get me fired. Now, when I see a creepy guy that holds eye contact too long, I'll just say to myself, "He cares and I want to shop here more!"

Bum rush the stage!

I went and saw Styks, the band, live in concert this past weekend at Rio Tinto stadium. Along with 38 Special and REO Speedwagon. The music was good but the show was better. There were a lot of burned out rockers from the 80's, you know it's going to be good. Before the concert even started one of our seat buddies showed up drunk. He really liked the music and had no shame in letting you know it. There was also another lady. About 2 rows up that got progressively worse, or I guess progressively more party like, as the night progressed. If you made eye contact with her she'd tell you to get up and enjoy the music. Midway through the concert this made sense. Near the end of the concert, not so much. As the night progressed she stood as a bastion to true rockers, she never would sit down and was stammering out the lyrics like a trooper.

I also would wager a great deal of money that the next unabomber was sitting in front of us. He had a camo hat, long hair, and a garbage bag poncho. He was also balding and had some really powerful binoculars. He was the type of man that inspires fear when you meet him in a dark alley, or as he drives past you in his windowless panel van. It just goes to show, the 80's hair bands bring all sorts of people together.

Perhaps my favorite part of the evening was when some of the boozed up audience members gave a true salute to the spirit of rock and rushed onto the grass of the stadium. It was impressive. The police and stadium security where promptly on the scene and tackling the rockers. Those rockers, with too much responsibility, voiced, safely from their seats, their protest of state intervention by screaming obscenities and showing their favorite finger to the man. The smell of hops, the incoherent babel, and the screaming music combined to make for the quintessential rock atmosphere, I'd definitely do it again.

Weird handshakes.

Nothing really freaks you out like a weird hand shake. Yesterday, I saw two of my past Spanish professors. To start off with the language faculty are, admittedly, a little bit strange. I find I fit in pretty well.

One of the handshakes was an over the top, chest-high, palm squeeze. This means that there really was no grasp. It was a little odd. The next wasn't so much the handshake itself, but the after part. The professor rubbed my arm. Yep, straight up rubbed me. I didn't know if I should rub him back, or not, so I sided with caution and escaped.

My new job as a lab assistant is starting up. I'll be testing onions for the evil yellow spotted virus. I know, few are called to protect onions. I am one of these few onion protectors. Today we played used liquid nitrogen to crush up some onion sample. By the time it was my turn to crush we ran out of sample and the professor I work for had me "pretend" to crush a sample in liquid nitrogen, awesome!

I'm also starting up the old window washing business with a friend of mine in Logan. It should be fun. O'yeah, I should probably write a little bit more often, but we'll see.

April Fools!

Much like the rabbits that fear the open day of hunting season; I fear April 1st. I've done things in my life that warrant payback. If people take revenge on April 1st, they can get away with a lot. I go through the day extra cautious. I don't want to get "got". 

As part of a larger prank, it is presently about 29 degrees and there is about 4 inches of snow everywhere. Last year the snow lasted until May. I really hope this year things clear up a little, it would be nice.

School is finally coming to an end. I have two papers to write. All about existentialism in Spanish modernism and how Don Quixote exemplifies socio-economic change in the 1600's. It will be nice to be done. 

St. Patty's Day

Today as I walked around campus I was impressed. Tons of people were wearing green. I'm not exactly Irish but the Celts heavily influenced the Scottish, Welch, and even some parts of Germany. The only blood I have in me that isn't possibly Celtic would be my Norse ancestry, from Denmark and Sweden, though you wouldn't know that by looking at me. I don't look much like a Viking.

I normally wear green. Due to my complextion I find that earth tones are the best. Pink is out of the question, so is read and orange, pretty anything that is bright. My hair isn't super red and looks probably more like somebody with brown hair tried to dye their hair red. However, mine is natural, although I am ask frequently if I dye my hair.

In junior high one of my nicknames was Leppy the Lepours Leprechaun, because I looked like a leprechaun. Plus I identify well with Saint Patrick. Anybody that doesn't like snakes is okay with me. 

Let us take today and remember the Irish and show a little pride.

Translating Fun!

Every once in a while I actually get to work. My translating job is kind of random and I never really know when I'll work next. However, this past week I had one of those o-so-rare work experience, or in my case not-that-rare-but-other-people-think-is-rare work experiences.

The topic for about an hour was breast feeding. Needless to say, my depth and experience with this subject isn't that extensive. I learned some crazy stuff in that hour. Apparently there's some sort of plastic attachment to help babies nurse naturally. Yep, and I had to translate this. We spoke about pumping, production, and timing. Really, things most 26 year old guys have furthest from their minds, or at least those that aren't married.

I think it went well. It was interesting translating between the mom's mom, the mom, and the professional I was working with. Who knows what I'll have to do next.

As an update, I beat my dad in racquetball 3-0. He might have been off his game, but I'll take the wins however they come. I'm also kind of bummed that spring break is ending. Back to school!

Racquetball

I enjoy racquetball. I'm not the best but I can hold my own. I enjoy a sport where being small and weaselly is to a persons advantage. I get a lot of satisfaction from beating huge guys. Sometimes I like to make them run around. I enjoy watching them smash the ball but then just returning the ball of the back wall. I enjoy dodging and weaving on the court.

I've developed a few serves that keep people guessing. Still, I'm worried about playing my dad. Sure it might look like he wouldn't be too competitive. However, he can usually knock me out of the game fairly quickly. I think, however, I'm going to destroy him the next time we play. That's right, I'm calling you out on the web. You will play me and you will lose. I'm not even going to accept your loss because of your knee.

Now that that is over. I'd just like to say there was some sun in Logan today. It was awesome. I hope you all enjoy the weekend.