It's great to see Stewart getting settled into a routine, mixing it up with the ladies and working hard to have a positive impact on the lives of those around him. Since Stewart has given an account of his daily routine, I feel obligated to give an account of mine...
Typical Weekday:
06:00AM - My alarm goes off (If I wasn't too drunk the night before to remember to set it).
(I hit the snooze)
06:09AM - My alarm goes off again.
(I hit the snooze)
06:18AM - My alarm goes off again.
(I hit the snooze)
06:23AM - I get up before my alarm goes off again (with a false sense of accomplishment because I managed to get up before the alarm went off).
06:24AM - I'm in the shower, and my alarm goes off again. (Because I forgot to turn it off when I got up earlier).
06:48AM - Out of the shower and getting dressed. I try to find one of the four Brooks Brothers Oxfords that I own, and haven't worn yet that week. (I have more than four shirts, it's just that these are wrinkle resistant and so it saves me about 4 minutes of ironing time.)
07:00AM - I take my dog out so he can go to the bathroom. I also wave to my carpool partners who have arrived promptly at 7:00.
07:07AM - My dog takes a crap. I pick it up with a "complimentary" disposable bag that my condo provides. (Do these assholes really think I would pay for a paper bag to pick my dogs shit up with if they didn't provide one for me?)
07:11AM - I finally make it to the car and settle in for the twenty five minute ride to work where I may or may not participate in the group conversation, depending on the topic. (If someones talking about a good band they saw the night before, I participate. If the group is discussing what happened last night on Grey's Anatomy, I sit quietly and think of ways to kill myself and then come back to life twenty five minutes later. Stewart, please advise of any methods you may know of to accomplish this).
07:45AM - I arrive at my cubicle, and die a little inside.
07:50AM - I get on the Internet and check my e-mail. (If I'm lucky, my Internet girlfriend, Juanita, is online and we g-chat for about an hour.) Then I check my online banking to see how much my bar tab was the night before. (Surprise, it was a lot.) Then I check my fantasy football team and discover that three of my best players have been injured and they're out for the rest of the season.
09:00AM - Morning Logistics Meeting. I sit in a conference room full of people who are unbelievably ignorant about any number of topics. (Seriously, if I were the boss, I would fire every person in the room.)
10:00AM - I do a little work, make a few calls and maybe go to my bosses office with a problem that I already have the solution to. I sit, in agony, as he goes over every possible scenario that may fix the problem. Finally I say, "Hey, like you were saying earlier, why don't we try this?" (even though he had never mentioned anything about what I had just suggested.) He says: "Yeah, I've thought about it, and that's the only solution that I can come up with. Let me know how it works out"
12:00PM - I go to lunch. I'm supposed to get an hour for lunch but I usually stay gone for about an hour and a half. I just walk around downtown and spend money to avoid having to go back to the office. (Although, recently I've been staying at my desk during lunch because my online relationship with Juanita has really begun to heat up, and we g-chat more often than we once did.)
1:30PM - I get back to my desk and die a little more inside.
2:00PM - I return a few phone calls, send a few e-mails and swing by me bosses office to let him know that "His" idea worked great, and tell him how much I appreciate his help.
3:30PM - I leave. I just get up and walk out. I walk around the building a couple of times, thinking about how Bad Ass I would be if I just got in my car and never came back. Drain the savings account, empty out the 401(K) and break out the backpack (that I haven't gotten to use in three months because I work all the time).
4:30PM - I get back to my desk, where I sit for the next fifteen to thirty minutes until my boss leaves..... then I leave.
5:15PM - I arrive at the car and wait for my over-achieving carpool partners to arrive back at the car.
5:40PM - I get home and take my dog out to play. (If I were still in college, this is the point where I would self-medicate with pot, or pain pills, or any number of benzodiazepines.)
6:30PM - I am about four beers into a six pack when I decide to go get more beer.
After that, everything gets a little fuzzy...
and then Beep, Beep, Beep,..... it's 06:00AM - My alarm goes off.(I hit the snooze)
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
What's with the Spanish?
Stewart, I want to address the issue of Spanish titles on your blog. I realize you're in a Spanish speaking country (that doesn't eat Burritos?) and part of the reason that you're there is to learn conversational Spanish, but I can see this heading towards full Spanish posts and I'm not comfortable with that.
Just to clarify; I'm not one of those people that raise hell about ATM machines having a Spanish option on them or having to press one for English when calling customer service, but I do take issue with Non-English correspondence. I don't necessarily think that it's a good thing that a majority of the people who entered this country without signing the guest book, speak Spanish as their native tongue and haven't bothered to learn English...but it's not a deal breaker for me. In fact, I enjoy the Spanish culture. I eat Burritos at least once a week. I've put forth a half-ass effort to learn Spanish for some time now, and I plan to master it at some point. But, when I sit down in the comfort of my own cubicle to catch up on my friends South American adventures, I need to see The Kings English.
My first attempt to tackle Spanish was at Southside High School. Southside is a public school in North Alabama (home of the Crimson Panthers, some monumental rednecks and several pot-heads). I'm not sure how most people's high school diploma program is set up but at Southside it was broken down like this:
Advanced Diploma: This degree was designed for over-achievers like Stewart who were still under the impression that your "Permanent Record" actually existed and that it played a serious role in your ability to go to college.
Technical Diploma: This degree was designed for the tradesmen of the class (Mechanics, Carpenters, Blacksmiths, etc...). These were mostly second or third generation skilled laborers that had a job (probably with the family business) waiting on them when they graduated, and they just wanted to finish school with the least amount of effort possible.
Standard Diploma: This degree was well suited for a wide range of people. On one end of the spectrum you had rural Alabamians who had hopes of becoming the first person in their family to graduate high School (see the aforementioned "Monumental Rednecks"). On the other end you had the spoiled, lazy and unmotivated under-achievers like myself. I finished 167 out of 169 in my graduating class (Despite scoring a 29 on the ACT without cracking the cover of the study guide). The two people who finished below me were a guy that I only know as "Skinny Pimp" and another guy who is currently on tour with Widespread Panic.
Oh yeah, and then there was this guy...
Seriously, I went to High School with this kid and he just got signed by Sony Records. He's actually a really nice guy.
Well, when I started High School I was convinced that the Advanced Diploma was the way to go. Coming from a large Auburn family, I knew that's where I wanted to go to college and I knew I needed an Advanced Diploma to get in. Mainly because I was still buying in to the whole "Permanent Record" theory and I knew that I had pulled enough shit in Elementary and Middle School to keep me out of Phoenix Online University, never mind a fine institution like Auburn. As you might imagine, the Advanced Diploma required four years of Math & Science and two years of a foreign language. Keep in mind we're in Southside, AL so no one spoke French or German....Spanish was your only option.
My first year of High School, everything was great. Alabama hadn't switched to the semester system yet, so you attended the same class year round. I breezed through Algebra and Life Science without a hitch and was excelling at JV Basketball and Football. Then my sophomore year came, and along with it came the semester system and my first encounter with Spanish.
My Spanish teachers name was Mrs. Garrison. She was a mean little Senorita that stood about 5' 1" and had some serious scaring on her face from an apparent childhood acne problem. She knew that I was more interested in the girls sitting next to me than I was in conjugating verbs, and I think she resented me a little bit for that. I also think she knew that I couldn't have been less interested in her class if it were a four hour lecture on the history of door knobs.
I had a million different things on my mind other than Spanish. For starters, I had a birthday coming up and my parents had informed me that I would be required to put up 75% of the funds necessary to purchase my first vehicle (Given that I had about $16.00 pesos in my junior checking account at Amsouth Bank and no job, this was a problem). Also, I had a girlfriend and I was so close to getting her to have sex with me that I spent most of my day thinking of ways to "close the deal".
Well as you can imagine, I failed the first semester of Spanish miserably (I think I finished with an average somewhere around Trienta Y Nueve). Me being the mediocre student that I have always been, I refused to give up after just one half-ass effort. So the next semester, I re-enrolled in Mrs. Garrison's class for another half-ass effort. I Buckled down, and failed again. At that point, I accepted the reality that the Advanced Diploma wasn't going to happen. I also began to loose faith in my ability to overcome the mountain of offenses that had been recorded in my "Permanent Record" (Which, by this time, was probably more like a "Permanent Filing Cabinet"). This is, to the best of my recollection, the exact moment that my academic career began to go down the proverbial crapper. (As bad as it sounds, thanks to a pretty good score on the ACT and some connections in the admissions office at Auburn, I got in and eventually graduated with a 3.0)
After switching to the Standard Diploma, I was no longer required to take the two years of Spanish or the four years of Math & Science. That's right, for the next three years it would be a steady dose of Environmental Sciences, Business Math(better known as "how to operate a cash register") and a full regiment of electives (P.E., Home EC., Shop, etc...). This obviously meant that I had a little more free time on my hands outside the classroom and it wasn't long before I decided that athletics weren't really that important either. Well, that, and the fact that I wasn't that good at basketball and I really didn't have the dedication that it took in the weight room to keep up in football.
Next thing you know, I'm a senior in high school that had absolutely no interest in being there. People talk about how great their senior year was and how they wish they could go back....I'm not one of those people. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time my senior year. I went to Prom, I came to school everyday and I even went on a field trip to New Orleans with one of my Environmental Science classes. I was actually voted a Senior Notable by my teachers and classmates(how that happened perplexes me to this day... I think it may have had something to do with the Vice Principle's slightly disturbing infatuation with my married mother).
When it came to class though, I was a permanently absent. Hell, I almost failed Business Math because I refused to do the homework. I aced every test and passed with a D (because the tests represented 60% of our grade). This was something that would later haunt me in college when I failed Business Cal. SIX TIMES! This was the only class that I failed in college and again I think it was because I refused to do the homework, and that tiny bit about me not knowing how to do Algebra as a direct result of three years of High School "Cash Register Math". After the fifth attempt at Business Cal. "my way", I got a tutor and basically had to teach myself Algebra. I blame all of this on Spanish.
Moral of the story:
Spanish can have a devastating effect on your life if your not careful. So, always be mindful of those that speak Spanish as their native tongue...
Be Safe Stewart,
~Gonzo
Just to clarify; I'm not one of those people that raise hell about ATM machines having a Spanish option on them or having to press one for English when calling customer service, but I do take issue with Non-English correspondence. I don't necessarily think that it's a good thing that a majority of the people who entered this country without signing the guest book, speak Spanish as their native tongue and haven't bothered to learn English...but it's not a deal breaker for me. In fact, I enjoy the Spanish culture. I eat Burritos at least once a week. I've put forth a half-ass effort to learn Spanish for some time now, and I plan to master it at some point. But, when I sit down in the comfort of my own cubicle to catch up on my friends South American adventures, I need to see The Kings English.
My first attempt to tackle Spanish was at Southside High School. Southside is a public school in North Alabama (home of the Crimson Panthers, some monumental rednecks and several pot-heads). I'm not sure how most people's high school diploma program is set up but at Southside it was broken down like this:
Advanced Diploma: This degree was designed for over-achievers like Stewart who were still under the impression that your "Permanent Record" actually existed and that it played a serious role in your ability to go to college.
Technical Diploma: This degree was designed for the tradesmen of the class (Mechanics, Carpenters, Blacksmiths, etc...). These were mostly second or third generation skilled laborers that had a job (probably with the family business) waiting on them when they graduated, and they just wanted to finish school with the least amount of effort possible.
Standard Diploma: This degree was well suited for a wide range of people. On one end of the spectrum you had rural Alabamians who had hopes of becoming the first person in their family to graduate high School (see the aforementioned "Monumental Rednecks"). On the other end you had the spoiled, lazy and unmotivated under-achievers like myself. I finished 167 out of 169 in my graduating class (Despite scoring a 29 on the ACT without cracking the cover of the study guide). The two people who finished below me were a guy that I only know as "Skinny Pimp" and another guy who is currently on tour with Widespread Panic.
Oh yeah, and then there was this guy...
Seriously, I went to High School with this kid and he just got signed by Sony Records. He's actually a really nice guy.
Well, when I started High School I was convinced that the Advanced Diploma was the way to go. Coming from a large Auburn family, I knew that's where I wanted to go to college and I knew I needed an Advanced Diploma to get in. Mainly because I was still buying in to the whole "Permanent Record" theory and I knew that I had pulled enough shit in Elementary and Middle School to keep me out of Phoenix Online University, never mind a fine institution like Auburn. As you might imagine, the Advanced Diploma required four years of Math & Science and two years of a foreign language. Keep in mind we're in Southside, AL so no one spoke French or German....Spanish was your only option.
My first year of High School, everything was great. Alabama hadn't switched to the semester system yet, so you attended the same class year round. I breezed through Algebra and Life Science without a hitch and was excelling at JV Basketball and Football. Then my sophomore year came, and along with it came the semester system and my first encounter with Spanish.
My Spanish teachers name was Mrs. Garrison. She was a mean little Senorita that stood about 5' 1" and had some serious scaring on her face from an apparent childhood acne problem. She knew that I was more interested in the girls sitting next to me than I was in conjugating verbs, and I think she resented me a little bit for that. I also think she knew that I couldn't have been less interested in her class if it were a four hour lecture on the history of door knobs.
I had a million different things on my mind other than Spanish. For starters, I had a birthday coming up and my parents had informed me that I would be required to put up 75% of the funds necessary to purchase my first vehicle (Given that I had about $16.00 pesos in my junior checking account at Amsouth Bank and no job, this was a problem). Also, I had a girlfriend and I was so close to getting her to have sex with me that I spent most of my day thinking of ways to "close the deal".
Well as you can imagine, I failed the first semester of Spanish miserably (I think I finished with an average somewhere around Trienta Y Nueve). Me being the mediocre student that I have always been, I refused to give up after just one half-ass effort. So the next semester, I re-enrolled in Mrs. Garrison's class for another half-ass effort. I Buckled down, and failed again. At that point, I accepted the reality that the Advanced Diploma wasn't going to happen. I also began to loose faith in my ability to overcome the mountain of offenses that had been recorded in my "Permanent Record" (Which, by this time, was probably more like a "Permanent Filing Cabinet"). This is, to the best of my recollection, the exact moment that my academic career began to go down the proverbial crapper. (As bad as it sounds, thanks to a pretty good score on the ACT and some connections in the admissions office at Auburn, I got in and eventually graduated with a 3.0)
After switching to the Standard Diploma, I was no longer required to take the two years of Spanish or the four years of Math & Science. That's right, for the next three years it would be a steady dose of Environmental Sciences, Business Math(better known as "how to operate a cash register") and a full regiment of electives (P.E., Home EC., Shop, etc...). This obviously meant that I had a little more free time on my hands outside the classroom and it wasn't long before I decided that athletics weren't really that important either. Well, that, and the fact that I wasn't that good at basketball and I really didn't have the dedication that it took in the weight room to keep up in football.
Next thing you know, I'm a senior in high school that had absolutely no interest in being there. People talk about how great their senior year was and how they wish they could go back....I'm not one of those people. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time my senior year. I went to Prom, I came to school everyday and I even went on a field trip to New Orleans with one of my Environmental Science classes. I was actually voted a Senior Notable by my teachers and classmates(how that happened perplexes me to this day... I think it may have had something to do with the Vice Principle's slightly disturbing infatuation with my married mother).
When it came to class though, I was a permanently absent. Hell, I almost failed Business Math because I refused to do the homework. I aced every test and passed with a D (because the tests represented 60% of our grade). This was something that would later haunt me in college when I failed Business Cal. SIX TIMES! This was the only class that I failed in college and again I think it was because I refused to do the homework, and that tiny bit about me not knowing how to do Algebra as a direct result of three years of High School "Cash Register Math". After the fifth attempt at Business Cal. "my way", I got a tutor and basically had to teach myself Algebra. I blame all of this on Spanish.
Moral of the story:
Spanish can have a devastating effect on your life if your not careful. So, always be mindful of those that speak Spanish as their native tongue...
Be Safe Stewart,
~Gonzo
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