Employment Verification?

Here is a transcript of a message that was left on my voicemail today:

Hello, ummmm... I'm trying to reach (company name redacted), um, and I hope to make an employment verification for Michael (last name redacted). If you could please give me a call back at 1-800-xxx-xxxx, my extension is 604. Thank you so much.

When I first got my telephone number many years ago, I soon found out that it was a recycled number, formerly belonging to some sort of software company. I often receive calls from business telemarketers trying to sell services and supplies to this company. God damn those annoying telemarketers! I have tried to find out as much about it as I can about this company, but the telemarketers don't know anything about it except that it shows up in a database of businesses. Now I have a caller who is inquiring about a former employee. Maybe it's time for me to get some payback from one of the people who worked for this company that has caused me so many irritating telemarketer calls:

Yes, hello, my name is Johnny Introvert from (company name redacted) returning your call in regard to Michael (last name redacted). I am the founder and proprietor of this company, and I feel morally obligated to inform you that of all the people I have ever hired, Michael was the biggest mistake I've ever made. Two months after hiring him, I discovered that a large part of his resume was fraudulent. And understandably so--the guy was a walking disaster. Everything he touched broke within a matter of minutes. His incompetence and negligence easily cost the company tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars. It took us a full year to fix everything he broke, and he was only with us for three months. If you are seriously thinking about hiring him, the only advice I can give is: don't!

Anyone have any other suggestions for how to respond?

Japanese Lesson

We got some snow yesterday and last night. Whenever it snows here, it is complete chaos as the parking lot is being plowed. People have to move their cars to make way for the plow-truck, but there are never enough plowed spaces to move them to. So it's always kind of a headache. Today, I decided I'd just leave and let everyone sort out the hassle without me. So I went and did my usually-Sunday grocery shopping a day early. And I did something else a little unusual for me.

I don't think I've mentioned on this blog that I have been studying the Japanese language since last spring. Since I spend so much of my free time watching anime, I thought it would be fun and cool if I could learn enough Japanese to understand the dialog without reading subtitles. And perhaps one day do my own fansubs. So to that end, I searched YouTube and found a set of videos produced in the 80's called Let's Learn Japanese. Slowly, I have been learning more and more.

Now back to today's story. There is a newly-opened Japanese restaurant in town, and since I wanted to vacate my condo for an hour or so, I figured today would be a good day to try out the food, and my Japanese conversations skills. So I went in with an enthusiastic "Konichiwa! (Good day!)", approached the waiter and said "Ichi (one)." I have no idea if that's the proper way to ask for a table for one, but this was an opportunity to learn, right? I nodded when he asked "one person?", and I said "Tsumetai soto ni desu ne! (It's cold outside!)" as I removed my jacket. When they barely gave any response to that at all, I wondered if I had said it right. Next I said "Nihongo o benkyou shimasu (I study the Japanese language)", to which the man behind the sushi bar gave me a nod. I sat down and studied the menu for several minutes.

I haven't eaten a whole lot of sushi in my life, so I have no idea what to order or how to eat it. So instead, and since it was freezing cold outside, I thought it would be best to order the Pork Noodle Soup. When the waiter brought it out, I said "Oishisou desu! (Looks delicious!)" to which he replied "thank you." The soup was okay, but a little bland. It was certainly nothing like a cup of instant ramen. I really have no idea how Japanese soup is supposed to taste, so I just ate it. It was a big, honking bowl, and it really filled me up. However, the entire time I was eating, the place was very quiet. No other customers came in. And the staff didn't seem like they wanted to talk with me, so I didn't get as much of a chance to practice my Japanese as I had hoped. When I was done, I said "Oishikatta desu! (That was delicious!)" and again the waiter replied "thank you."

As I got up to leave, I went to try to converse with the sushi chef. I said "Dono sushi arimasu ka? (Which sushi do we have here?)" I'm pretty sure that sentence was not properly structured, but I was only trying to start a conversation. He seemed really confused when I said that, so I asked him if he was Japanese, and lo and behold, he was in fact Chinese! He said he hadn't understood anything I said earlier! The other guy behind the sushi bar was clearly not even Asian, so I said "You don't look Japanese either," and he managed to convey in broken English that he was Mexican! So I used a few of my stock phrases in Spanish: "Buenas tardes, como estas? No hablo Espanol muy bien, pero estoy aprendiendo." I learned further that none of them there were Japanese! They were all Chinese with one Mexican guy! What the hell kind of Japanese restaurant was this? Clearly I would be getting no Japanese conversation practice today!

And so I left, shaking my head with a big smile on my face. And drove home to my freshly plowed out parking space.

Part Asian 100% Hapa

On the Newshour tonight, they had a video essay about multiraciality in America, and it centered on an exhibit called The Hapa Project at the de Saisset museum at Santa Clara University. The exhibit features portaits of hapas (multiracial, part-Asian people) along with each subject's handwritten response to the question "What are you?"

What a magnificent idea! I can tell you first hand that growing up straddling the line between races is very confusing, alienating, and lonely in a way, feeling so unlike everyone else around you. Looking through the samples in the exhibit, it makes me so proud to see the faces of my beautiful brothers and sisters, and read the myriad ways they answer that perplexing question. If I were to answer that question right now, I'd say this:

What I am changes from day to day. Sometimes I am a confused and anxious introvert, wondering where he belongs. Other times, I am the melting pot, the embodiment of diversity, the essence of a unified world. But most of the time, somewhere in between.

I applaud artist/creator Kip Fulbeck for conceiving such a brilliant idea! There's a book too. I'm buying it. I'm curious to see each and every page!

Idiot

We've been having some unusually cold weather here lately. For the past week, I don't think it has gotten above freezing. After having spent most of the weekend indoors, I decided I'd go for a walk around the pond I usually fish, just to get some air and sun. I thought perhaps it wouldn't be frozen over yet, that the water would have retained enough heat to keep the ice from forming. Hopefully, I could still get a few more fishing days in before the end of the year. Alas, no such luck. The pond was frozen, except for a small circle in the center. A few more days of sub-freezing temperatures and I'm sure that will be frozen also.

During the fall and winter months, the water level of the pond is lowered, revealing part of the pond bed submerged in the summer. Today, I strolled down to the edge of the ice and walked along the frozen bed, the sand and gravel crunching under my foot steps. As I walked, I noticed the terrain changed under my feet, becoming a darker color. A few steps further and it began crunching with a more hollow sound. I thought to myself, "Oh man, I know I'm walking on frozen mud now, but it's gonna support my weight right?" Wrong! My next step felt solid at first, then the next thing I know my foot goes right through, and I feel a cold, wet sensation seeping into my sneaker. I quickly take a lunging step toward the shore to escape my predicament, and my other foot also breaks through the thin crust of frozen mud, leaving me with both feet ankle-deep in ice-cold mud. I stumble a few swampy steps back to terra firma, and look down at my sneakers and pant legs thickly coated in black mud. Damn, if only I weren't such a frigging idiot!

As I walked home, my feet squished with each step. My pants froze into icy rigidity. I was hoping I wouldn't pass anyone--how foolish I would feel to be seen like this! But I laughed at myself the whole way home. Sure, I might have ruined my sneakers, but what a way to ruin them! The truth is, I've always loved getting dirty--I should probably do it more often. Just not when it's so cold out!
(This is an enlargable pic--I want you to see that mud in detail!)

Perch

(Click to enlarge) I have one of those cameras where you push down the button halfway and it does the auto-focus, then you push it down all the way to take the picture. Well, I accidentally pushed it down all the way before I turned to smile into the camera. And as luck would have it, this was the best focused of the four pics I took of this fish. So that's why I'm posting it. Plus I think it's kinda funny. This might be the first yellow perch I've caught since I started this blog. They are really cool fish because they have a golden color, darker stripes, and bright orange fins on their underside. I don't think my camera captured its color's brightness well, but good enough for this lame blog.

An Autumnal Mosquito (Updated)

We have had a stretch of cool weather for the past few weeks, around 60, dipping into the 40's at night. It always takes me a little while to get used to it, but now I think I have made the adjustment. No more wearing shorts, sandals and single layers. But one of the things I like about this time of year is that as the temperatures cool, the mosquitoes vanish. It becomes possible again to be outdoors while the sun sets and not be swarmed by thirsty parasites.

Today it was a little warmer, around 70, and I took advantage of the bright, sunny day and went running this evening. Afterwards, as I returned home and started stretching, I noticed a tiny stinging sensation on my calf. Looked down, and sure enough, it was an autumn mosquito drinking my precious life fluid. Usually either my gut instinct or else my inability to tolerate the creeping stinging feeling will compel me to swat the aggressor dead immediately. However, this time it wasn't so bad, probably due to the post-exercise endorphins flowing in my brain, and I watched this little creature drink my blood without the urge to kill it right away. At this moment, I remembered something I had read many years ago. It was some advice that said it is the proboscis of a swatted mosquito still lodged in the skin that causes the itching, and that if you can refrain from killing it until it pulls out, then you will be spared an itchy welt. Seeing as I was tolerating the bite well, I decided I would test this theory. So I waited patiently for the mosquito to finish. And waited. A minute or two passed, but she was still not done. I tried tapping my skin next to her, and brushing her hind legs with my finger to see if I could scare her into pulling out, but she refused. She had her nose in my skin up to the hilt, and as far as she was concerned she wasn't going anywhere. I had no recourse but to step up the level of coercion. I carefully grabbed one of her hind legs and gently started pulling. After a few gentle tugs, she still would not budge. So I delivered constant force, wondering if she would let me tear off her leg before she withdrew. But that did the trick. She finally removed her beak (all 3/16 of an inch of it--that's quite a bit of stuff to get stuck in your skin when you think about it--no wonder it itches so much!). With only the slightest trace of remorse, I squashed her into a paper towel, leaving a circle of blood.

At first a small welt remained on my calf, but about an hour has passed since then, and the welt has gone away. There's a little redness to the skin at the bite-site, but it doesn't itch at all. Perhaps that advice was right? I'll let you know how it turns out after more time passes.

Update: After 24 hours, the mosquito bite started to itch. And now that a few days have passed, it still itches a little and feels almost like an ordinary mosquito bite, but a good deal less intense (for lack of a better word). So that story about the beak causing all the itch is just false. She must have pumped some venom into me, and that's causing the itch.

Great Lines from Anime

Quit yakking; you're just a dog!

I lost my place in the world a long time ago.

And the reality that I don't have anywhere I belong... is... where I truly belong!

-Paranoia Agent

Direction

I have really grown dissatisfied with this blog. Especially the last few posts, which I am deleting, because the lameness makes me cringe.

I first started blogging because there were things i wanted to say, about myself, my life, my perspective, that i never felt comfortable talking about. Things i kept hidden from the entire world, but which occupied my mind most of the time. I wanted to express and expose myself, from the relative safety of anonymity, to see if I could, for however brief a moment, overcome my fears of being judged, ridiculed, or humiliated. I wanted to see how people would respond, to see if my fear wasn't just mere illusion. They say the people in your life serve as a mirror, in which you can see yourself and your own soul. Since since my life is so lonely, friendless and asocial, I wondered how I would look in that mirror. And I got a glimpse. I learned something about myself.

Over the past 3 years, I definitely have grown as a person. I wrote about things I found difficult to talk about, and posted them in spite of my apprehension. And I discovered that it was neither as hard nor as embarrassing as I feared. In fact, in a way it was liberating just to express myself, to get it off my chest. And I enjoyed being heard and getting feedback. I even made a few blog-friends along the way, and though some of them I never hear from any more, they still mean a lot to me. Just connecting with people on any level is satisfying, and I think I got a little bit of that through this blog.

But now it's been a long time since I posted about anything meaningful or anything that weighs heavily on me. I know I still have things I want to say, but the motivation to actually find the words and make it happen, seems to be missing. Or else I'm slacking--maybe I'm just lazy. I almost feel like my ability to ruminate and reflect is diminishing, like my mind is becoming weaker and shallower. It's kind of distressing.

I've been wondering if I should keep this blog any longer. Is it done? Has it served its purpose and is now all worn out? Is there anything more for me to gain from it? I know I've taken only a few steps on my own road to self-improvement, and I still have miles to go before I feel comfortable within my own skin, expressing my ideas, being me. I'm just not sure how much more I can get out of a blog. The thing is, I'm not sure I'm gonna get it anywhere else either.

Looking back over my posts, there are many that have strayed from my intended goal. I think all the pics of my smiling face holding a fish are a real distraction from what I really want to say here (and there are plenty of other stupid posts I am tempted to delete too). Those fish pics I could proudly and fearlessly show to anyone. What I want to post here are the things that I wouldn't feel so comfortable sharing.

Before I ever started this blog, back in the planning stages, I put together a list of post ideas. Some of them became actual posts, but many are still waiting. I think I will keep this blog for now, and finish up those posts I had originally planned. Then after that, I'll re-evaluate again.

Moonrise

5 lbs. of bass

Click to enlarge. As I struggled to take my usual one-handed self-portrait, a passerby noticed and kindly offered assistance. I don't think my usual pics accurately convey the size of some of my catches. This pic, on the other hand, does. It also affords you a better idea of my excellent posture, and ferocious musculature.

I Know...

I know my pics are boring and all look the same, but here's another one anyway since I haven't posted in a while. By the way, this fish was so big that I couldn't fit the whole thing in the frame!

Apples and Arugula

[I orginally wrote this last summer, but never got around to posting it. However, I think it's a good post and I have really sucked at posting lately, so here it is.]

During my trip to Trader Joe's this morning (have I mentioned I'm a big fan of Trader Joe's?), I encountered a dilemma. Should I buy the organic Granny Smith apples for $0.69 each, or the regular ones for $0.49 each. Certainly the whole field of organic agriculture and environmental sustainability / non-contamination is a worthy cause, not to mention the avoidance of chemical residues on the things we eat. But in the other direction was the pull of the lifelong and deeply-instilled habit of being a thrifty consumer, and not spending more than I should.

I stood in the produce section and pondered my options for a few minutes. Ultimately, I formulated the question in a way that removed all ambiguity: save money or save the planet? I'm not living paycheck to paycheck--I can afford it even if it does cost more. And it is important. On the spot, I decided that the question really ought never to come up again. Regardless of the price, I'm buying organic whenever possible. Even for milk, which is 70% more expensive. Consider me a staunch supporter of the organic movement!

Among my other purchases was a bag of Zesty Baby Greens, containing all sorts of good stuff: mustard, arugula, tatsoi, spinach, green oak lettuce, lollo rosso, tango. I'm not even sure what some of those are, but I'm sure they'll make for tasty salads. As I was walking home, the word "arugula" was stuck in my head in an interesting way. I was singing it to a familiar tune which I couldn't quite place. It was a very distinctive set of notes, matching each of the four syllables perfectly. I could clearly remember this as the primary refrain of some song, but couldn't quite pull it back. After a few more time throught it, I remembered. "Jerusalem" by Sinead O'Connor! Funny how "arugula" fits so cleanly in there.



I read the lyrics for this song, but I still can't figure out what the hell it's about! Parts of it make sense in a fragmented way, but how does Jerusalem fit in? Anyone know? Anyway, what a performance style! I like how she barks and howls! Say what you will about her, there is one thing you must admit. She was *years* ahead of everyone else on the whole Catholic priest child molestation issue.


She was on top of it a decade before everyone else caught on. And her career was destroyed because of it. I think she deserves some props.

Recovery

The stress of last week's ordeal has ended. I got my money back. Here's a recap: CitiMortgage claimed they didn't know why they paid for an insurance policy for the entire condo building out of my pocket, they didn't know why they received only a partial refund from the insurer, and they told me to contact the insurer. The insurer told me that they received my money from CitiMortgage, refunded part of it back to them, and refunded the rest of my money to the condo association.

My next step was to call the insurance agent who brokered the policyo, but I soon discovered that was a dead end. They listened sympathetically, but said there was nothing they could do, since they were only the middle man. My only hope left was to contact the condo association and hope that they wouldn't be hard-asses about it.

Well, it turns out they were wonderful, and it took very little effort to convince them to send me a check for the remaining $562. In fact, all I did was leave them a voicemail message explaining the situation, which made perfect sense to them since they were confused about receiving that refund in the first place. And they sent me a check immediately. I'm happy, and probably lucky, that not everyone involved in this nightmare was a complete idiot and/or a mindless bureaucracy-bot. But still, it is very disconcerting that a problem like this could even happen in the first place. Watch out if you ever have to deal with CitiMortgage.

The Cost of Bureaucratic Mistakes

I am so fucking angry right now I could strangle someone. And at the same time, I feel so powerless and alienated that I just want to crawl under a rock and die. Money was taken from me, changed hands several times, and is now with someone else. Robbery? Money laundering? Receiving stolen goods? No, not that kind of crime. But rather a bureaucratic snafu involving five different parties. The whole scheme sounds so bizarre and improbable, I'm still in disbelief. But then again, maybe I shouldn't be surprised.

It all started when the corporation that services my mortgage, CitiMortgage, became concerned about the insurance situation at my condo. They become concerned every year, but since my condo association always purchases the proper amount of insurance for all the buildings every year, it is really nothing to worry about. And yet, CitiMortgage worries, and they send me letters requesting that I show them proof of adequate insurance. Well, this year, instead of contacting the insurance agent who handles our insurance, CitiMortgage contacted the National Flood Insurance people directly, and inquired about the policy. I couldn't quite get a clear story out of the rep I spoke to, but from what I could tell, National Flood Insurance responded to that inquiry by sending CitiMortgage a bill for an insurance policy. So CitiMortgage paid the bill, and didn't bother telling me until a month later. Why did they pay for insurance which is being paid for by my condo association? Good question, and I was not able to get an answer from them. Why was National Flood Insurance sending a bill to CitiMortgage when they should be sending it to the condo association through the insurance agent? Again, I have no idea. But they sent the bill for $2906, and CitiMortgage paid it, with my money, without telling me.

Then, for some inexplicable reason, National Flood Insurance sent a refund to CitiMortgage. I have no idea why--did they realize they made a mistake? However, it was only a partial refund, for $2254. Which leaves $652 unaccounted for. Since the CitiMortgage rep indicated they did not know where that money was, and seemed to think it was not their problem, I called National Flood Insurance. And they explained that the $652 went toward the premium for the condo's insurance policy! The one that covers all the buildings, all the units; the one that is always paid for by the condo association--I was paying part of the premium directly! And, they said that subsequent to receiving my money, they received the full payment from the condo association, and gave them a refund of $652, since that was the amount they overpaid (since I had picked up that portion earlier)! So now the condo association, who was probably confused about the refund but quietly pocketed it anyway, has my money! As far as National Flood insurance is concerned, they received an overpayment, and they sent out a refund. End of story--their hands are clean. Yeah, right.

Now, how the hell am I supposed to get it back? How can I convince the condo association that all these strange mistakes happened and so now they owe me $652? Since both CitiMortgage and National Flood Insurance seem to think this is not their problem, my only hope is that our insurance agent can look into this, feels morally obligated to set things right and takes action. Because of this mistake, I must now rely on someone's goodwill to fix it. To be honest, I am not at all sure I'm ever going to get that money back.

It baffles me how this bureaucratic nightmare happened. Mistakes are made, money changes hands, and then those hands are washed of all responsibility. Someone gets money they shouldn't get, and some sucker loses it. And everyone denies it's their problem. The injustice is enough to outrage me. But what if it had been more? What if it was the full $2906 that disappeared? What if they decided to shell out $10000 of my money? Or more? And suppose National Flood Insurance decide to send the refund to someone else? I can imagine another 'mistake' like that happening. They can take payments from anyone, why not send refunds to anyone as well? It's a disaster waiting to happen. Probably happened to someone else already.

So this all sucks in a serious way. And my only recourse is to pray that someone has a sense of decency and helps me out? This sucks.

First

It was a cold day today, but sunny. And now that daylight savings time comes earlier in the year, I actually had some hours of daylight left after work. The rain over the weekend melted a good amount of the ice covering the pond next door. About half of it is now de-iced.


Which means it is fishable! Today, I wasn't really expecting much except to get some fresh air and some sun on my face. I was just gonna throw a few casts, just to relieve the tension of not having done so for three months. So it came as a great surprise to actually get a hit. And then to pull in a 3.5 lb. largemouth! I hope this first catch of the year is a sign of how things will be in the coming months!