New Board, New Season

Yesterday, I decided to finally do it while I still had the chance.

No, this has nothing to do with virginity. I took advantage of the off-season discounts on last year's models to put together a K2 snowboard deck, the bindings, and the boots for less than $500 (if you don't count the $67 the government ended up stealing from me as a result of the transaction). It also didn't hurt that they take 20% off the bindings if you buy the boots, which were only $60. Damn, I sound like a woman after a day-long shopping spree. Even if I get a job in a sunny place (yeah, right) and have to move to where there isn't any snow, it's nice to know that I have equipment on standby if I ever come back home to visit during the season.

Yeah, my parents might freak out at me for making such a big purchase with so little money left, but I'd told them I spent only about half as much as I did on the last set of snowboard equipment. And they can't really argue with me, because they have a habit of buying ANYTHING, no matter how useless, tacky, or hazardous, so long as it's on sale.

"Son, I got this walrus polishing kit for 5% off!!"

So why don't I fall back to my old snowboarding equipment, you ask? Well, I would if I could. My old board had those nice Switch step-in bindings, but the boots cost five times as much as I paid yesterday because they had to have all the support built into them, instead of in the bindings. I was willing to pay that much for step-ins because I'm either practical, or a lazy bastard to have to ratchet those standard bindings onto my boot everytime I get off the lift. Imagine having to stop and pull your nuts out of your scrotum everytime before you go up a set of stairs, then stopping and cranking your nuts back in when you reach the top. That's how big a pain in the ass it is.

What happened to my old board was that I took it with me when I spent my three years in Japan. I had some great times with it while taking advantage of the bullet train ticket/mountain pass packages there, and Japan has some really neat jumps, rails, and half-pipes at the board parks to try out your tricks. I think snowboarding has far overtaken skiing in popularity over there.

As fun times as I had with the good ol' board, when it came to going home after my three years, I decided that it costs more than the board, binding, and boots to ship it back once I factored in depreciation. So I sold it, complete in the cutesy Engrish board bag labelled "Mr. Board" that I bought in Ochanomizu, to an Australian colleague of mine, who was going to be staying one more year. I trust that he has put it to good use, and he even took it back to Australia with him once his time in Japan was up. I don't know if there is any snow in Australia, even during their winter (summer for the folks in the northern hemisphere). Well, even if there isn't any snow, I'm sure he can strap the board to a kangaroo and try to ride it down a mountain or something.

Unfortunately, when it came to buying my new board, they no longer have step-in bindings in the market, presumably due to safety concerns that the boot may come off the binding. This is unlike the step-in bindings on skis, which are designed to come off on impact when you fall, so that you have to hike halfway up the mountain to get your ski back, and thereby raising the exercise value of the ski. Using poles? You'll have to hike another kilometer up to get them too! So being stuck with standard bindings, it's back to cranking my nuts for me.

Sadly, my social life back home isn't as good as my social life in Japan or Miami, so I hope I can put together some mates to hit the mountains with me. I haven't invested this much money to go by myself, and it would be even more expensive to do so without others to pool the costs. No buddies, no snowboarding, and nothing exciting to do during the winter season.

In that case, I'll have to find a walrus to polish.

Striking Mallrat Getting Rich

Today, I went to the mall to check my lottery ticket.

Unlike my parents, who are obsessed with money the Hong Kong people they are, I don't regularly buy lottery tickets because I'm merely paying for someone else's prize money, even though the government says they are spending some of the proceeds on community projects (i.e. political banquets, lavish trips to exotic resorts, green fees, female escorts). This time, I decided what the hell, since the jackpot was a whopping CAN$30 million.

Yes, I know you folks from the US, with your US$250 million Powerball jackpot, will be laughing at our measly lottery prizes. But after the federal and state governments get their filthy claws on your phat winnings, you're actually taking home US$50,000. That's right. Canadian lottery winnings are non-taxable, bitch! We get to take home all CAN$30 million baby, which amounts to...US$50,000.

So I scan my lottery ticket on the little scanner that they put up at the lottery ticket booth...and it came out a winner! I take my ticket to the booth to see how much richer I'll get, and the clerk was pleased to announce that I have won...$1! Knowing that I'll probably never see any of the strangers around me again, I yell out, "I'M RICH!!!" with the most sincerity I can muster despite the sarcasm. Yes, I know one of you smartasses out there is going to say, "Don't spend it all at once!"

Pocketing the $1 I won from a $20 lottery ticket, I decided to spend it on Listerine. The mall has been much quiter now that the teachers' strike has ended and the kids are back in school. Now the schooltime mall population is back to its healthy constitution of old gravebound senior citizens from the retirement condos across the street. In fact, the only signs of life are the salespeople standing outside their stores, such as the cute Asian chick waving a Batman-clad teddy bear from the Build-A-Bear store ("Hey baby, forget the bear, I want to cuddle YOU!" **SLAP!!**).

Now that we're talking about strikes, no wonder why China's economy has surpassed Canada. How can we ever get anything done when constantly, some labor union is on strike? Hell, there are more labor disputes than jobs in Canada. First, the lockout with the Telus telecommunications employees, then the strike with the Teachers Federation, and then the Canadian Union of Public Employees falling short of halting transit service last Friday in support of the teachers. Why don't they all just form one megaunion, fronted by a committee called the Canadian Unions Negotiation Team (C.U.N.T.), and they brake the whole fucking country into a grinding halt when someone bitches about their salary being too low to afford the gas to burn up with their guzzling SUVs?

Just to be fair, I know that the Canadian governments are known to screw even their mothers over. And I also blame the government for being such pushovers and allowing the unions to gain so much power. But the children! Think about the children! What would the kids do without the education they desperately need? Hang out in malls ? Graffiti a hapless wall? Form gangs to mug people and rape your dog?!? Even if the US has a crappier education system than Canada, at least their schools are open. What the hell, ranting aside, I was too lazy, er, busy to make a thorough assessment before I could take sides. Who does, anyway? I just used the picket lines as an excuse to honk my horn like an asshole.

But if Canada keeps being plagued by labor problems, I'm going to have to take me and my $1 fortune south of the border.

Slapshot

Last night, I went to a hockey game for the first time.

Well, not really the first time, but the last time I saw the Canucks in person, I was five years old and they were still playing at the old Pacific Coliseum. After that, I always watched my hockey games on TV because it's free (except for the commercials), and you get a better view than having to sit behind some drunk idiot wearing a big hat or waving a big flag. Watching the game on TV, you're also sure to sit around and get drunk with your friends, rather than sit in an arena and get drunk and into a fight with the guy next to you because you think he's coming on to your wife. And you're not married.

So anyway, my dad's tax lawyer got us a couple of sweet club seats for a sweet game, as a token of gratitude for our patronage. (Lawyers, like members of the opposite sex, could be the scum of humanity, but that doesn't change the fact that you always need one on your side.) This game was special, because the Canucks were playing the Colorado Avalanche. If you kept up with hockey, there is a little bit of history between these two teams. Not only is the Avalanche the old team of the Canucks' coach, but also the last time these two teams played more than a year ago, a certain Canuck named Todd Bertuzzi got suspended and even criminally charged for smashing Avalanche Steve Moore's face into the ice and causing a severe concussion that pretty much ended his career. For the longest time, fans couldn't wear Bertuzzi's jersey anywhere for fear of getting their asses kicked. Sensing that there could be bad blood between these two teams, one of the bigwigs in the NHL (the league) even came to supervise the game.

Fortunately, the NHL guy was content to see a high-scoring, relatively well-disciplined, fast paced, and exciting game. Bertuzzi got on with his life, as he said, and played very well. The Canucks ended up winning, but what could have been a beautiful game was marred near the end of the last period. In typical Canucks fashion, the team nearly blew a healthy lead, and thus a game, by slacking off and allowing the Avalanche to score three goals in three minutes. The only other disappointment that I had was the fact that there were no fights in the game, an integral part of ice hockey which I looked forward to seeing.

Hell, fights could make a lot of games under the guise of "sports" more exciting. Take golf, for example, where not even the commentary is thrilling, because the commentators are obliged to whisper. I'd be more inclined to watch golf if the golfer gets his ass kicked for missing an easy putt. Or if he sunk his ball into a hazard, someone could give him a headbutt and a wedgie, then toss him into the water to retrieve the ball. If his ball landed into a bunker, they'd stuff his pants full of sand and a Tae Kwon Do team will repeatedly kick him in the nuts. If his ball sliced and went wide of the fairway and into the woods, he gets mauled by bears playing the ball from its wooded lie. Top it all off by giving him a bitch slap for every stroke over par. Or her, as there is a Women's PGA as well, and ass kickings should be an equal opportunity privilege. Come on, these people make millions whacking a ball into a hole with a stick. The least we could do is make them earn it.

Pretty soon, other dull games will be spiced up likewise, and we will see curlers with brooms stuck up their asses because they didn't sweep hard enough. It's called an arena for a reason. I can't take credit for being the first one to think this concept up - if you've ever seen a Japanese game show, someone has already put it into effect.

Violence never solves anything, but it's damn entertaining when there's no permanent damage and it doesn't happen to you.

Game on!

Back To School

The leaves have fallen, like opportunities in another passing recruiting season.

So what one of the things a CEO would do if his company isn't doing so well? Reposition the company and change the corporate strategy. So likewise, I decided to change my approach and see if that opens up any opportunities for me.

I'm going to study for the Certified General Accountant (CGA) designation.

For you people south of the border, it's the Canadian equivalent a Certified Public Accountant (CPA), but it's also recognized in overseas. You can also obtain a CPA once you have a CGA, provided you take a few courses and exams to reconciliate the different study areas. Sure, it's not as prestigious as the Chartered Accountant (CA), but it's not as brutal. (Recap: We have three acronyms so far: CA, CGA, and CPA. Got them all?)

In undergrad, I once had a roommate pursuing a CA. He was studying for the uniform final exam - the dreaded UFE (sorry, too many acronyms). I swear the guy never left the room except to eat (anything instant), workout his emaciated body (I think lifting his gym bag was enough workout for the poor guy), or go to the toilet (or maybe empty his jars of human waste). I never had a conversation with him that lasted longer than 10 seconds.

Who can blame the guy? The UFE consists of a 4-5 hour paper written in response to a simulation/business scenario, once a day over three days. But that's what's not brutal about pursuing a CA. The harshest thing about that program is that they have a "Three Strikes And Yer Out" policy. You fail the UFE three times and you are never again allowed to pursue a CA. Not only that, but as a final act of rejection and humiliation, they smash your calculator in front of everyone at the examination hall.

That said, I have decided to go for the CGA. Perhaps if I have sufficient experience and confidence, and if the resulting opportunities are good, I'll take a shot at upgrading to CA. But first things first. I have to print out copies of every relevant course I've taken during my MBA in Miami for transfer credit because it's not a Canadian school; as far as the CGA Association knows, what Americans consider to be "accounting" could very well be making reed marks on a clay tablet, or counting heads at Farmer Brown's cattle ranch.

After a long and grueling voyage of transit hopping, I finally show up at University of British Columbia, my undergrad school, to pick up my transcripts for the CGA application. After five years of changes, I don't really consider it my university anymore. A couple of sure signs is that my student cafeteria is more alloted to franchises (e.g. A&W, ubiquitous Starbucks), and they've taken away one my favorite places to sleep. They used to have these really comfy couches in the lounge at the Student Union Building. Now in their place are a bunch of cold, sterile seats...with armrests. I have to spend a day here to see if all my secret nappy spots are gone, but the weather is shitty, and I'm in a hurry to get this application in. Another day.

I rushed to the CGA Association office in a bus packed with noisy undergrads, and made it just before closing to turn in my application. So this is it. A new beginning for me in hopes that it will spawn a lot more new beginnings.

I hope I find a job before not only the leaves, but the whole tree comes down.

Sick And Delirious

I think I'm starting to cough out pieces of my lungs.

This Monday, I went to the gym down the mountain. It's in a fitness center that's part of the municipal aquatic complex. After the workout, I opted not to change out of my sweaty shirt, because the changing rooms were all wet from the family swim night. Bad idea, since it was also a cold and rainy day outside. Now I caught a nasty cold (or flu?), and although the sinus congestion is a little better and I had no fever, my back and legs still feel a little weak and I'm hacking like a sick dog.

How ironic, that I avoided to the wet change room because I didn't want to catch a cold, only to catch a cold doing so. Or is it ironic that going to the gym and doing some healthy exercise got me sick? Either way, God has a funny sense of humor. Haha.

I've been stuck at home so far this week, so I might as well continue this silly job search. I think I'll save and set aside all my PFO (Please Fuck Off) letters in my e-mail. That way, when I become a corporate superstar and all the companies e-mail me with ludicrously generous offers to defect to their side, I just reply by forwarding to them the PFO letter they sent me, adding to it, "You had your chance, bitch." Aaaah, the satisfaction, muhahahaha!

Yes, I know you'll say, "Dream on," but I'm going to do it...once I get my foot into the locked door before I snap and get that foot up some recruiter's ass.

The Capitol Records building, bisected by the car window.

The Late Mitch Hedberg

Okay, I've bitched enough about my hopeless job search. Here is something lighter.

I sometimes get behind in the news. In this case, I just found out that one of my favorite comedians, Mitch Hedberg, died of some some sort of congenital heart failure...this March. I always thought he would die of OD since he had a drug problem, even though sounding like he's burnt out on weed is part of his act. In fact, that's why I find the shit he says so funny. Take, for example:

I fuckin hate arrows man, its like "fuck you I'm not going that way .... line... with two thirds.. of a triangle at the end. Could you imagine being killed by a bow an arrow? That would suck, an arrow killed you, they would never solve the crime, "hey look at that dead guy.... let's go that way"

Okay, so maybe you'll find some of his other jokes funnier. He also uses a lot of one-liners à la also-late Rodney Dangerfield. I found a lot of his jokes compiled on Wikipedia, and I nearly popped a lung laughing at some of them. I felt a lot better because, for that moment, I was able to let go of the despair and low sense of self-worth from being jobless. See for yourself. The world needs more people like him.

A belated rest in peace, Mitch.

Oops, almost forgot my custom of ending an obituary post with possible last words or epitaph:

I think dying will be exactly like being born...except it's backwards and they put you in a box instead...'cause man, you'll be too big to be stuffed back into the vagina. Oh fuck...that was gross.

(I'm sorry, I really tried.)

Fuck GE

I wanted this job very badly.

From what I know about the company, it had the ideal corporate culture and values, a lot of which I stand for. I thought it had the perfect environment in which my career could thrive, where I can show the company what I can do.

That's why I jumped, or more like flew, at the opportunity to interview with them on-campus in Miami for their Financial Management Program (FMP). It is a rotational training program that gives you the experience, training, and insight into their company in order to become one of their future leaders. This is done mainly through four six-month assignments covering a broad range of the company's businesses. From what the company advertises its website, it does not require experience as much as good academic standing, communication, and leadership skills.

Finally, a way into a company.

Then, the interview finally came. There are three types of job interviewers:

1. Old-school: The kind that does it the old-fashioned way by going over your resume and asking you questions about your experiences.
   
   
2. Behavioral: They make up the majority of interviewers, because behavioral questions are all the rage these days. They basically ask for personal anecdotes through questions such as, "Tell me a time when you had to persuade an entire group. What did you do?" These questions give them a better idea of the person you are through the way you respond to situations.
   
   
3. Kung Fu Trial: In order to advance to the next stage, you must risk death by fighting through a trial of strength, skill, agility, and endurance. These interviewers will attack and try to discredit you at every turn to ensure that their candidate is the fittest of the herd.

Guess which interviewer I got? I realized it when the first thing the interviewer said was that he wasn't convinced that the FMP was right for me because I don't have a "solid" financial background like the other candidates, so I don't seem committed to the area of finance.

I was taken aback by the harshness of the statement (though I didn't show it), but I remembered that I must have gotten the interview for a reason, and nowhere did it say that this program requires experience. I know I was going to have to fight for this job with every ounce of willpower and determination. He may have knocked me down on the mat, but I got up before the ref could even count to one. I have more than what it takes to punch back.

Bring it on.

I defended myself by saying that even if the other candidates have a "solid" financial background, their thinking is confined to within their department of finance. What the company attributes its success to, despite running diverse businesses, is its ability to function as one whole system rather than a sum of different businesses, which compete against one another for a piece of the corporate budget (a.k.a. a "conglomerate"). Through my broad experiences, I can offer this "holistic thinking" that no other candidate can. Furthermore, I dedicated the time and effort of my MBA studies in the concentration of finance, what more proof do you need that I'm serious about this!?

Then the interviewer threw the "cheap shot" of saying that I wasn't able to find a full-time job in five months. I explained my situation that I'm being shut out of companies through the Work Experience Catch-22 (though not in those exact words), and that the FMP is my way in to prove what I can do for the company. Lest I piss him off, I fell short of pointing out that his assumption - that the interval of time between graduation and employment is directly proportional to laziness - is invalid. In retrospect, I probably should have shot him down thus anyway.

Throughout the interview, I did my best to show my enthusiasm, my energy, and my determination. I didn't just show him a spark in my eye, I showed him the inferno. I really want this job, and I would do anything to get in and show you that I have the passion to drive the change in this dynamic company.

The interviewer concluded by saying that I was "untraditional". For a company that prides itself on innovation and thinking "outside the box", I thought this was the highest compliment I could receive. He told me that he'll get back to me in a week or two.

I felt good after that interview, even if I still don't expect to land the job because it was just too good for me to be true. I was so pumped leaving the career center that I was ready to pick a fight with anyone. It pays to eat a Powerbar before a job interview.

---

They sent me an automated PFO letter after two days.

Even though I didn't expect to get accepted, I was still dumbfounded at how quickly they wrote me off after the fight I put up at the interview. Worse, because it was a cookie-cutter-template-automated PFO (Please Fuck Off) letter, they wouldn't explain why. I was left to merely speculate, and the only conjectures I could think up was me being "untraditional", my work experience, or my MBA because they were mainly looking for undergrads.

I could hardly believe that being what the interviewer described as "untraditional" is what got me rejected. After all, the company attributes its success on innovation, and even sports the slogan, "Imagination at work." If all the company is looking for is "traditional" people, then how could it be the innovative, unconventional business that could capitalize on its engine of creativity? Even worse, how could a company stay innovative for long if the staff delegated to recruiting its future does not share those very ideals on which the company prides itself?

Which came to the all-too-familiar issue of work experience. After a couple of years of this, I'm really starting to get sick of this. They advertised their requirements as "Less than 1 year full-time external work experience", which is pretty much covered by my summer internship in China during my MBA studies. I wanted to get into the FMP to gain experience, as is the program's purpose.

I'll save my rant about being shut out of companies on the basis of work experience for later. All I have to say about it is that although experience is a good indicator of the person's capabilities, it's not the whole picture. Any computer can determine how many years of experience a candidate has, but it takes an interviewer to determine if the candidate has important qualities like energy, passion, and even guts. For companies to tell people to fuck off because they don't have enough experience is just wrong, and they will pay for their mistake by missing out on a lot of good talent, and worse yet, to their competitors.

Finally, the fact that I have an MBA when they're looking for undergrads or in other words, I'm "overqualified", is perhaps the worst reason to turn me down. If the person is willing to do the job despite having to settle for a lower salary, GIVE HIM THE FUCKING JOB!!! Once again, I want to be in the FMP to gain experience like the other "normal" candidates. I get a lot from the program, and the company gets a lot out of me. Why the hell shut me out on a rigid technicality, "Imagination at work" company?

All in all, I couldn't help but think that I was already rejected before the interview was even scheduled, and that the recruiter just wanted to use me to fill up his quota, then using the interview as an opportunity to act like a total dick. This was a major disappointment because a company that I so looked up to had let me down.

General Electric, you're fired.

From Pacific To Atlantic In One Day

It's been a while, but I am finally hooked up to the internet long enough to hammer this out. So much has happened since I arrived for the job conference in Anaheim last Wednesday. Here's a recap:

---

Thursday, September 29

Although the conference began on Thursday, the career expo part of it for which I came for didn't actually start until Friday. Thus, having Thursday free, I hooked up with some classmates who were also attending the career expo, and we hit it up in Downtown LA and Hollywood rather than spend the whole day roasting in the sun while waiting for rides at Disneyland.

Once again, I didn't bring the USB cable for my digital camera so I can't post any pics. No, not that I forgot, but bringing the cable also meant I had to bring the USB 2.0 adapter card with my laptop, and frankly, that's way too many electronics for me to carry. Like my photos from Japan, you're going to have to wait until I come home.

Anyways, back to the field trip. The first place we went to was Hollywood, and we tried to actually go up to that "HOLLYWOOD" sign on the side of the mountain. Unfortunately, there is no access to the sign, at least by car, and a smaller road sign saying "No access to Hollywood sign" confirmed it. Perhaps the only vehicles that are able to go up there are maintenance trucks for the weather instruments installed at the peak of the mountain. I surmise that the reason they restrict access is to keep idiots from driving up there, getting drunk (or vice-versa), and pushing those big white letters over or smashing them up with baseball bats.

So as a compromise, we took a picture in front of the "No access to Hollywood sign" sign and went on our way to Hollywood Boulevard. We only had enough time to see Alex Trebek and Vincent Price's star on the sidewalk, and I resisted the urge to take my photo next to one of the stars for the purpose of Photoshopping my name on it. Not long after we started walking down the street do a couple of smart-looking guys jump us and try to pull us into their scientology testing center to get a personality test. I was tempted to follow them in and jump on their couch like a madman, but in the end I restrained myself and pulled my group away from the two nutbars.

Then it's off to watch the sunset at the beach, via Santa Monica Boulevard. It was neat driving towards the sun, but it eventually got boring and I slept most of the way, a good idea seeing how we were submerged in the rush hour onslaught. The beach was surprisingly empty, even considering that most people would be coming home from work at that time. The sunset was beautiful, and a large cloud, carrying the smoke from the wildfires at the nearby mountains, was able to play with the hues of the sunbeams in ways that it could never do by itself.

But in a more spectacular sight, a pod of dolphins appeared near the beach. I've never seen them in the wild in my life; the closest thing I've seen was wild orcas on the ferry to Victoria. They didn't leap from the water, perhaps because they were busy foraging the sea floor for food. I used up one of my batteries trying to get the perfect shot with my digital camera without getting it wet. The last time I've seen more blubber than this was during my "bad day" at Miami Beach.

After the sun went down, we settled for a Thai dinner and took the long drive back to Anaheim to prepare for a busy day at the career expo tomorrow.

---

Friday, September 30

I had to admit that I didn't take anywhere near as many free samples as I did at last year's conference at Forth Worth, Texas. Back then, I had brought a large suitcase and only occupied 1/3 of it with my stuff and left the rest of the space for the free samples. Despite the space I allocated, I still didn't have enough room for the samples, which included a bottle of wine from the Diageo.

This year, I only managed to bring one bag full, and I plan to give most of it to my aunt and cousin's family. There were two reasons why my haul was so meager compared to last year. Firstly, if my suitcase is full of free samples, it's going to reek of "trade fair" to the customs inspectors, and I may be detained by customs. As a terrorist, you may be able to sneak your grenades and AK-47's though, but you'll have hell to pay if you try to bring pitted fruits, agricultural products, and trade fair goods past Canada Customs.

The other reason why I couldn't loot the career expo is because I actually got job interviews this time! The first was with Johnson & Johnson, so now I'm only marginally angry at them for wasting 30 minutes of my life and studying time in a phone interview last year, when there were actually no positions for me. The second interview was with Bank of America. I'd be happy to work with the latter and help bring down Citigroup, which snubbed me off in the most disrespectful way. It sucks to have me as your enemy.

Therefore, my experience with recruiters that day could be divided into the following categories:

1. Interviewers: The people who are most serious about considering to hire me. In fact, so serious that they're willing to use up a time slot to talk with me one-on-one. I spend the most energy focusing on pitching myself to these people in hopes that a job will come out of this, and I keep in contact with them.
   
   
2. Correspondents: Although I only manage to talk to them at their expo booth, these recruiters are serious enough to give me their business card or contact info, and request that I send my resume to them so they can personally forward it to the proper recruiter.
   
   
3. Mindless Drones: Unfortunately, they make up majority of the recruiters in the career expo. Perhaps more accurately called clones, where the progenitor has a shit-faced grin and a tendency to collect resumes, tell candidates that they'll forward their resume to the right people (aka the shredder) and to go upload their resume on the company career website (aka the e-shredder). Then, they will proceed to hand you a pamphlet/card/CD of their company's job site, which you will take to your home (aka the shredder). Some are even rude enough to look around while you're talking to them, and others even have the balls to give a lame excuse to snub you off, such as "all interview time slots are full". A bunch of useless people, a complete waste of time to talk to, and I hope they all go to hell and die.

The Johnson & Johnson interviews took most of the morning because I had to interview with two recruiters in a row. The Bank of America interview took up the rest of the afternoon because after the interview, I was asked to attend an information seminar about the company.

I'll try to get more samples and interviews tomorrow.

---

Saturday, October 1

I pretty much tried to pitch myself to the other companies I had marked down. Although I did land a few Category 2's (see previous day's entry), the rest were Category 3's. In the mid-afternoon, I got so sick of talking to Category 3's that I decided to make one round through all the booths to collect samples, then head straight to the Molson/Coors booth, where they seemed more interested in dispensing free beer through the bar they have set up rather than recruit new hires. I'm cool with that. It is usually the most crowded place at the end of the day. Well, second to only the Mattel booth at the end of the career expo, which finishes with a huge toy giveaway raffle to get rid of the wall of toys they have on display at the back of the booth.

After getting reasonably smashed, I decided to go harrass the Category 3 booths with my slurred speech. Among them were General Mills:

"I fffffed my rrrrabbit Trrrrix and it dieeeed. You werrrrre rrrrright, it's only forrrr kids..."

and the marketing section of the Coca-Cola booth:

"Okaaaay you basssstarrrrds, I got a quesssstion! What iffff I think your Dassssani flavorrrred water beverrrrrage as being more like waterrrrred-down juuuuice?"

Who cares!? I have no interest in working for them anyway, and I'll be long sober by the time my aunt and uncle pick me up tomorrow morning.

---

Monday, October 3

So here I am at my aunt's house now. Nothing interesting happened yesterday, except for meeting my cousin and her family, which includes my niece and nephew. I feel sorry for them if they ever use me as a role model. Even though the career conference is long over, I'm supposed to stay here until October 7, or this Friday. That's because this is a contingency plan, in case something that I didn't expect to happen would happen.

And it happened.

I found out about it last Thursday, which was really "last minute". I got an e-mail from General Electric that they would like to interview me for their Financial Management Program on October 5, which is this Wednesday. This is the job that I really want, my way into GE. The only catch is that the interviews will be held on-campus...in Miami.

So then, I had to book a ticket on the fly. Fortunately, Expedia.com issued e-tickets so I didn't have to wait for the tickets to arrive by snail mail. I have a buddy and former classmate who's willing to give me the couch for the next couple of nights, so I owe it to him to see if I can hook him up with any jobs.

Too bad I won't have enough time to check out the boobs and/or blubber at the beach.