Yeah, well...
Oct. 3rd, 2003 01:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
niwandajonesYou know, this week should've been a big posting week.
Last Friday? I was offered a job at some hack-job version of Amway specializing in medical supplies. (Yes, a hack-job version of Amway. Square that shit.) Now, this was all the more disturbing because I was in Borders at the time. Looking even scruffier than usual. Reading a magazine. What's that you say? Was I reading an issue of Inexplicably Underemployed Ubermensch?
No, I was reading fucking Dungeon.
So, here's the lesson, boys and girls: being unshaven and wearing a faded t-shirt and frayed khakis while reading about the fucking Githyanki screams "LOW SELF-ESTEEM", and will attract the attention of even the most pathetic of pseudocultish organizations.* You've been warned.
Onto less soul-crushing news. This week pretty much wrapped up my LSAT and SAT classes, while also marking the beginning of my GRE and GMAT classes. The student evaluations of my teaching were almost universally excellent, which is a pick-me-up even beyond the effect this will have on my chances of getting a raise. I was amused by the one SAT kid who gave me the highest possible marks on all aspects of my teaching ability, but then said he would never recommend me to his friends.
It's good to see that kids these days know how to artificially manipulate a curve.
Well, this actually turned out to be longer than I'd thought. So, I'll leave you with an IM conversation that you may find amusing, especially if you know one (1) Eric Daza.
Me: my dog is untrustworthy
Eric: OH YES HOW SO?
Me: I decided to let him be uncrated while I ran errands. He managed to get two stuffed animals off of a 5' shelf (remember the bookshelves we built? the second shelf from the top!), and while they were not destroyed, they were damp. Now, he has shown no interest in these animals before this, biding his time.
Eric: INSIDIOUS! CALCULATING!!
Eric: I THINK YOU SHOULD PET HIM.
* At least, that's the only thing I can imagine was going through this guy's -- and did I mention he was 6'5" and about 300 lbs? -- mind. I know what was going through mine:
"What's this guy want?"
"Is he hitting on me?"
"Is he recruiting me for a cult?"
"Why would I want to be in a cult that would have him?"
"Holy shit, he's offering me job."
"Why would I want to work for someone who headhunts in the hobby magazine section of Borders?"
"No, really -- is this guy hitting on me?"
Last Friday? I was offered a job at some hack-job version of Amway specializing in medical supplies. (Yes, a hack-job version of Amway. Square that shit.) Now, this was all the more disturbing because I was in Borders at the time. Looking even scruffier than usual. Reading a magazine. What's that you say? Was I reading an issue of Inexplicably Underemployed Ubermensch?
No, I was reading fucking Dungeon.
So, here's the lesson, boys and girls: being unshaven and wearing a faded t-shirt and frayed khakis while reading about the fucking Githyanki screams "LOW SELF-ESTEEM", and will attract the attention of even the most pathetic of pseudocultish organizations.* You've been warned.
Onto less soul-crushing news. This week pretty much wrapped up my LSAT and SAT classes, while also marking the beginning of my GRE and GMAT classes. The student evaluations of my teaching were almost universally excellent, which is a pick-me-up even beyond the effect this will have on my chances of getting a raise. I was amused by the one SAT kid who gave me the highest possible marks on all aspects of my teaching ability, but then said he would never recommend me to his friends.
It's good to see that kids these days know how to artificially manipulate a curve.
Well, this actually turned out to be longer than I'd thought. So, I'll leave you with an IM conversation that you may find amusing, especially if you know one (1) Eric Daza.
Me: my dog is untrustworthy
Eric: OH YES HOW SO?
Me: I decided to let him be uncrated while I ran errands. He managed to get two stuffed animals off of a 5' shelf (remember the bookshelves we built? the second shelf from the top!), and while they were not destroyed, they were damp. Now, he has shown no interest in these animals before this, biding his time.
Eric: INSIDIOUS! CALCULATING!!
Eric: I THINK YOU SHOULD PET HIM.
* At least, that's the only thing I can imagine was going through this guy's -- and did I mention he was 6'5" and about 300 lbs? -- mind. I know what was going through mine:
"What's this guy want?"
"Is he hitting on me?"
"Is he recruiting me for a cult?"
"Why would I want to be in a cult that would have him?"
"Holy shit, he's offering me job."
"Why would I want to work for someone who headhunts in the hobby magazine section of Borders?"
"No, really -- is this guy hitting on me?"
