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Dispensable

NRGPR Business Card

I hung out at a friend's house the other day and the moment she opened the door, she exclaimed that she had been laid off -- that very day! She thought it was strange that she was given vague reasons for her termination and after a few moments of silence, she asked me if I had ever been laid off before. Oh yes, I certainly had been. I didn't get into the nitty gritty details with her, but as I drove home, the feelings I had of that strange time resurfaced.

Some time during the mid-1990's, during the early days of the Dot-com boom, I landed a job as an "Operations Assistant" at a high-tech public relations firm called Niehaus Ryan Group Public Relations. I don't know what ever happened to the PR firm, but back then, NRGPR was a leader in their field of PR for high-tech firms, with impressive clientele from Apple to Yahoo!, and O'Reilly to CyberCash (later acquired by Verisign, and then later acquired by PayPal), to name a few.

I remember feeling all at once excited and scared when I learned that I got the job. My duties included the mail room, ordering office supplies, drinks and snacks; managing the periodical library (which had every conceivable computer-related, high tech magazine); covering for the receptionist during breaks; setting up the conference rooms with food and beverages for meetings; assembling all new office furniture; and best of all, I was encouraged to learn HTML to become the company "Webmaster".

In theory, it should have been a dream job. In THEORY. Most of the time, I felt lucky to work for an exciting company which offered plenty of growth. I had a great work ethic and I did my job WELL. I arrived for work early and didn't leave until all my work was done for the day. So I 'll never forget that day I was let go. Carol Niehaus was there, along with the head of Human Resources and the Operations Manager. I remember feeling excited when I was called into Human Resources and I felt nervous as I took my seat. I seriously thought that I was getting a promotion and a raise.

Well, the joke was on me. I left the meeting in tears. Though I was reassured that it was nothing personal, I felt that it was. I felt upset and confused, almost as though I was in a terrible breakup. I felt like the first person eliminated from a reality show like Survivor.

They said they were letting me go as a casualty of stream-lining their operations. And so I wondered, why the hell did they hire this other dude just several weeks before as my co-partner in my department? At the time they hired him, it never occurred to me that the new recruit I was training would eventually replace me. After all, the company was growing at such a fast pace (NRGPR tripled during my short tenure there), it only made sense to hire more help.

Feeling insulted and unappreciated, with my small box of office decor and whatever dignity I had left, I walked out. As my mind raged in a torrent, I immediately drove to the unemployment office in South San Francisco. I thought about what I had done to deserve termination. Perhaps I should've attended all those baseball games and company parties. Perhaps I should've been more sociable by accepting invitations for after-hour drinks with some co-workers. Or maybe I should've kept my mouth shut when the CFO had threatened to "bite my head off" if I ever fulfilled an office supply request over $50 without his direct authorization. I guess I could've been nicer to my boss who clearly suffered from an acute case of Asia-philia.

Though it was not clear to me at the time, getting laid off from that job was the best thing that could've happened. Of the 70 employees who worked there, only a handful were sincerely kind folks while the others were blinded by hubris. Simply, they were cut throat, blow hard assholes. No, I'm not disgruntled -- just honest. Working for a big company left such a bad taste in my mouth, I only sought to work with small companies thereafter. However, one of the best things which resulted from getting laid off from NRGPR was the motivation it gave me to go back to school, in hopes of one day securing enough credentials to be indispensable.



Saved from eBay

American Eagle Flats

I listed some shoes for sale on eBay the other day. Luckily, I was able to sell my black Sanita Marcelles fairly quickly and hopefully, my other listings will sell just as well.

I've never worn these out, these ruby American Eagle flats. Though I've had them for about a couple of years now, they've never seen the light of day. It's not that I don't like them -- they're lovely. But, my wide flat feet look ever so hideous in them and these shoes give no arch support whatsoever. Remember the Rated R version of my Cute Magic pictures? Well, let's just say that my feet looked pretty scary in them, like She-Hulks on steroids. So I've been meaning to either give them away or sell them and I finally decided to sell them on eBay. After completing the listing for this pair, I sat in front of my keyboard, kinda stuck until I canceled the submission. I just couldn't bring myself to hit the submit button.

This happens to me frequently. For instance, any attempts to clean out my junk drawer often ends with me retaining most of the very things I'm trying to clean out. I'm one of those sentimental folks. I keep a lot of stuff, far longer than I really should. I keep old greeting cards, even those generic Xmas cards that people send out.

American Eagle Flats

Though I've gotten much better at parting with souvenirs and miscellaneous memorabilia (ie. napkins with notes, salt and pepper shakers kidnapped from various restaurants, movie stubs, programs, restaurant receipts, etc.), sometimes my feelings come between me and a clutter-free environment.

Quite frankly, I don't like holding on to the past in such a manner. Talk about a waste of space! Perhaps I'm afraid that without such things in my life, I'd forget a whole lot of things -- a whole lot of good things. I'm aware that I do these things to remember certain events and even certain people. Perhaps to remember, that despite the outcome, painful or otherwise, that at some point in time, wrapped within each scrappy trinket or souvenir is magic of some kind, magic that helps me relive the good times, especially with those estranged ones.

Such collections of mine are hidden deep within drawers or packed away in storage boxes and they only surface during those times that I'm trying to clean house.

Well, these American Eagle flats have been saved from eBay, once again saved from potentially touching earth by fond reveries of dear Mama.



How Have You Been?

I can't think of a harder question to answer. I stumble internally when faced with this question live, person to person. Though, it's easier via email. I can sit on the question for hours or even a day before responding. Well, which answer do you want? Do you want the response I give to polite strangers? "I'm doing great, and you?" Then we part our merry ways.

Or, do you really want to know how what I've been up to? My automatic answer usually involves the former chirpy scenario with a smile. Fake? Not really... just simple.

I woke up this morning with thoughts about Facebook. It all began when a Flickr friend sent me an invitation to Facebook last week. I used to have a Facebook account, but closed it after being inundated with drinks, teddy bears, and sheep. I couldn't take it. Anyway, I reactivated my account -- quite easily, too. I didn't have to start over or anything. My friend connections were intact -- even my wall's history! I added some friends -- fellow blogger friends. I also casually added friends from high school, and I did so without thinking of the consequences. What's the first question people ask when a great amount of time spans communication?

It's a simple question with four words. How. Have. You. Been? I'm fine.... Umm..... I'm still in school... No.. no... not graduate school -- undergraduate. Yeah, yeah, I'm almost done. In a Year. Yeah, two classes. Physics. One is a prerequisite for the other. Yep. That's it. It's easy? REALLY? I don't know about that. The physics teachers at State sucked hardcore. Yeah. Yeah, taking it at the j.c. What do I do? I'm a factotum. And you? What are you doing nowadays? Doctor! Very cool... Hey, did I mention that I'm a comfort shoe connoisseur?

Quite frankly, I'm not bothered by this question so much when it comes from a stranger. My answer can be simple and honest and meaningful, depending on my mood. But there's just something bothersome about this question when asked by people I haven't seen in a long time, like old classmates and especially relatives. I admit that I become competitive and I tend to compare accomplishments and feel like such a loser when I say that I'm 34 years old, still in college and that I work as an assistant for real estate developer.

I wonder if this is what is called an inferiority complex, which brings up a whole slew of issues for me. Why am I pursuing a college degree? Am I pursuing a degree in the spirit of growth and learning? Or am I pursuing a college degree because I think it will improve my social standing -- in my own eyes?

How's that for How Have You Been? Short and sweet answer: Intensely neurotic.

Mood Music:



Project Mismanagement

Pugly's Breakfast

Today was one of the better days I've had in a long while. These last few weeks especially, I've been feeling extremely short on time. Classes begin in a week and once the semester commences, time will be even more precious. Life will be a delicate balancing act between my classes, work, my man, the dogs, homework, the gym, and PuglyFeet.

You know, before Doug and I moved into our house, I estimated that it would take us a single day to paint the living room, the dining room, the office, bathroom and bedroom. I don't know how I came up with that short time frame, but talk about project mismanagement! It took us weeks! All spare time was devoted to painting. It didn't matter if it happened between classes, after work and on top of class projects: we painted all the time. Day and night.

Needless to say, I embraced the beginning of summer with open arms. And I celebrated by creating a long laundry list of projects that I wanted to accomplish by the end of the Summer. Well, Summer ends in a week for me and I feel extremely rushed and harried and very scared.

I'm only two classes shy of graduating and both classes happen to be physics classes, for scientists and engineers. Let me repeat that: for Scientists and Engineers, lower division courses which I've miraculously managed to bypass... until now. What this means is that the solutions will involve Trigonometry and Calculus. The Trig I can handle with no problem. However, Calculus is another story altogether. I got an A in Calculus -- 6 years ago! What this means for me is that I'm going to have to spend the next 7 days reviewing hard core. Uuggghhh.. I'd rather blog.

Now, you may be wondering, with all the blues, how could this be one of the better days I've had in a long while? Half Full came when I surrendered to the fact that everything on my list, however important, was not going to materialize. I set my Moleskine aside and enjoyed my last day of bliss unencumbered by lists and spent the day with my guys and the ridiculously self-amusing phenomenon that is Twitter.



She's No Anne Frank, Vol. 2




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