About the "gay" and "fun" people I've met

When ordering over the phone from a dance shoe store, at the end of a long friendly conversation with the owner...

     ME:  Well, hey, thanks!  You've been super-helpful.
     HER:  You're welcome!  And by the way, I'm gay.
     [awkward pause, not that there's anything wrong with that]
     HER: ... Er, my name is Gaye, G-A-Y-E.

Today, after dinner, I spotted a gaggle of interns and figured it was high time I actually broke from my recently-anti-social self and said hi.

     ME:  I didn't catch your name...
     HER:  Oh, I'm fun!
     [brief confused and amused pause]
     HER ... See? [shows name badge:  P-H-U-N]

*  *  *

For the record, Gaye did come across as quite gay (as in happy), and Phun does seem quite fun.  The geek in me ponders causality.

Overheard at the optometrist today

Cranky Old Guy #1:  What did you do to your glasses?!
Cranky Old Guy #2:  I stepped on them.
Cranky Old Guy #1:  [a thinkify’ing pause] You’re not supposed to do that!

Truly stupid Facebook status updates

One of my favorite newsweeklies, The Week, has a weekly competition where they solicit various entertaining submissions on goofy name ideas or lists.

A few weeks ago, highlighting the crazy case of some Australian kids Facebook-status’ing that they’d fallen into a well or something like that, they asked for some other ideas of truly stupid Facebook updates.

Well, I submitted a handful… but clearly the editor of this contest lacks good taste, ‘cause she didn’t pick any of mine :(.  So, for your edification, I’ve included them below :-D

—-
1) “OMG, I can’t believe my stupid teacher is reading my Facebook feed!”
2) “Honey, I think I might be pregnant. Is it yours?!”
3) “Having sex. BRB in a minute.”
4) “Honey, could you please get the remote for me? I’m in the bedroom.”
5) “OMG, DID I JUST POST THAT? THOUGHT IT WAS SEARCH BOX! HELP!”
6)  “My darling Jennifer, will you marry me?”
7) “How do I post a status update?”
8) “Unsubscribe!”
9) “I am Mobutu Rumppole, a Nigerian Prince…”
10) “Just got spider bite. Fingers swelling pretty bad, hardto type, any ideas on what I sh”

[Overheard] - "How do I get balls?"

Officemate:  So I got everything all set for the event.  Computers, powerstrips, food.  Only thing I forgot was chairs! [smacking forehead]
Me:  Why don’t you use these instead? [pointing to one of the inflatable balls we have in our office for sitting on]
Officemate: [looking intrigued, yet uncertain]  Hmm!  How do I get balls?!
Me:  [incredulous pause, then uncontrolled laughter]

Luckily my officemates have a good sense of humor :-D

A short tribute poem to Dr. Seuss on his birthday

My colleague Sha-Mayn noted that today is Dr. Seuss’ birthday.  I originally penned the short poem below to post as a facebook comment, but I thought I’d share it with you all instead. :-D  With deep apologies but much love to Dr. Seuss…
—

I hadn’t known this fact before
I miss Dr. Seuss now even more
I read and re-read all his books
‘til my parents gave me funny looks!

“Green Eggs and Ham” still rocks today.
I wish for more like that, I say!

In a hat, on a moat, with a cat, on a boat,
In a car, on a plane, with a star, on a plane!

I would not could not write like Seuss.
So now I’ll stop the poetic abuse.

[Video below is of two girls lipsync’ing to Moxy Früvous’ awesome a cappella take on “Green Eggs and Ham”]

Environmentalists selling sex

Think green, think sustainable, think sultry and sexy?!  You may laugh, but the “Hot Chix Dig” crew shows that environmentalism is hot, and I’m not just referring to global warming.

So what’s the deal here?  These women believe that awareness is the key to getting people to make real, substantive improvements in the way they treat our planet.  And—as I’m sure you’ll agree—communicating wisdom about conservation and sustainability is a whole lot more engaging (and memorable) when it’s delivered by scantily clad and attractive women.  Or at least it is for straight men and lesbians :-D (hey, ladies, don’t just complain; I bet hotstudsdig.com is still available!)

Not only can you visit the Hot Chix Dig site and learn about xxxxx, you can also buy their 2009 calendar and show off your fine eco-aware sensibilities to your friends and (if you’re in a particularly easy-going workplace) your colleagues.

If you’re curious, you can learn a bit know more about how the site was born, or you can contact the hot chix dig women yourself with questions or feedback.

*  *  *

So why am I writing about this?

• I personally know and respect the founder of the site (“Avida Verde”).
• I think it’s an intriguing and pretty humorous idea, selling environmentalism with sex and/or vice versa.
• I’m curious to hear your thoughts.  What do you think the site will accomplish?  Are you inspired? Offended? Impressed? Annoyed? Something else entirely?

I’ll be happy to alert Avida Verde to any comments below. :-D

[Humor] 100 yards Longs brand Waxed Mint Dental Tape, almost new

Today we have a guest post!  Hopefully a nice respite from all the political tensions.

The note below was written by Mark Pilloff for distribution on our company’s “for sale” (classifieds) list.  I’ve reproduced it below in its entirety with, of course, Mark’s permission.  Enjoy! :-D

*  *  *

Free: 100 yards Longs brand Waxed Mint Dental Tape, almost new

Recently my dentist suggested to me that dental tape, thanks to its larger cleaning area, was more effective than ordinary dental floss.  So a few weeks ago, when my previous container of floss ran out, I went to Longs to bring my routine of dental hygiene out of the stone age and incorporate the modern marvel of dental tape.  (Mike Nichols said in a recent interview that if he were making “The Graduate” today, he would update the iconic line to, “I just want to say two words to you.  Just two words.  Dental tape.”  True story.)

Have you bought dental floss / tape lately?  So many choices!  Dozens and dozens of them.  That’s what’s so great about this offer: besides being absolutely free, you have just one choice.  One terrible (but free!) choice.  The same terrible choice that I already made when I stared at the shelves at Longs, thought to myself, “What difference does it make?”, and reached for the most cost effective dental tape option available: 100 yards of Longs brand Waxed Mint Dental Tape.

What I am offering to all of you, absolutely free and with no strings attached, is one almost new container of unquestionably the worst dental floss/tape I’ve ever used.  This dental tape is thick like packing twine, the sort you’d use to bundle up a bale of old newspapers before dropping them off on the curb to be recycled.  To get it to slip between your teeth you’ll have to wiggle it back and forth ten times or more and pull hard enough to cut off the circulation in your fingers.  Each time it finally grinds its way into the slot between your teeth, dropping into place with a stinging snap, you’ll yell to anyone around, or maybe just to your reflection in the mirror, “I hate this @#$% floss.  This is the worst floss ever.  I never should have bought it.”  (Actually, since you’ll be getting this floss complete free of charge, you’ll merely yell, “I hate this @#$% floss.  This is the worst floss ever.”)

Did I mention the coarseness and sharp edge on the tape?  The last time I tried using it, I got a paper cut behind my molar!  And then I yelled at my reflection in the mirror and vowed never to use this dental tape again.

But maybe after reading this you’re just a little bit curious to feel the worst flossing experience on Earth?  Or maybe you have widely spaced teeth which could benfit from dental floss thick enough to tie up a rib roast?  Or maybe you simply can’t resist the word “free”?  Personally I just hate to see anything go to waste, so whatever your motivation, I will gladly give you the remaining 98 yards of my dental tape without expecting anything in return.  (Although if you want to drop me a line and tell me how much you hated it, I’d be happy to hear from you.)

To add further insult to considerable injury, I’m way out in 1950 [Ed. note: this is a building on the outer edge of our campus].  Top floor!  No elevator!  (Okay, the elevator works, but you should punish yourself on the stairs anyway—think of it as a masochistic prelude.)

Doing an expense report for work? Here are some tips

I recently traveled to Brazil and Mexico for work.  That’s damn cool, I admit.  I’m lucky to have that opportunity, grateful to meet so many wonderful people on my journeys and see so many awesome sights.

But, as with many things in life, there’s also a downside.  In this case, I am owed thousands of dollars in hotel, airfare, meal charges, etc., so—of course—I need to file an expense report.  And doing that in three different currencies is no fun, no fun at all.

Procrastinating this effort even further, I just wrote up a blog entry on my company’s internal blog system, but then I realized… heck, maybe others could benefit from my tips.  So without further ado, here they are :-D

• Sweat the small stuff.  “Oh, it’s just a $4 coffee and energy bar!” er, it all adds up, trust me!  Keep track of this.  Along these lines, don’t forget to take into account (and expense) ATM surcharges, reasonable tips (which may not show up on your receipt), etc.
  
• Put as much stuff as you can credit cards.  On the downside, this’ll likely result in an extra 1-3% fee when you are outside your home country, but… you’ll often get extra protections (such as lost luggage assistance, purchase protection, etc.) and as noted above you’ll have backup evidence of expenses in case any of your receipts are lost or stolen.  It also gives you an extra 30-6o days to cover the bills (and get your money back from your company!), which is especially important if you’re on a tight personal budget!
  
• Write down a quick note after every expense, e.g., “Sat Sep 20 dinner, incl 2 colleagues, 1 partner $R152, on Amex.” Note the pertinent details here: the when, what event, who, how $much, and on what card (or “cash”).  Add this to an “Expenses” note in your Blackberry or iPhone, or on a handy notecard in your wallet, etc.  I can’t tell you how much I’m frustrated with myself for overlooking this to-do this trip; now I’m having to piece together, er, which was the dinner where I treated a friend (my expense) or took along a colleague (Google’s expense), etc. I’ll get it right, but it’ll take a lot of extra time.
  
• File your expenses in a timely manner.  Wait too long and you might not even get your money! (there are actually tax laws about this!) But even waiting an “acceptable” amount of time… you forget stuff.  Some receipts may have gotten misplaced in the interim.  Don’t risk it.
  
• Be smart about currency values.  If you’ve been somewhere that has a rapidly fluctuating currency, use reasonable conversion rates from the days you converted your native currency, using your credit card and ATM charges as a guide. Don’t just go on xe.com (admittedly a very cool currency exchange site) and plug in the single conversion number you see today; you could be substantially cheating your company or cheating yourself :-(.

Hope these tips have been helpful :-D

A very quick found-money tip

Earlier this week I spent about 45 seconds and got $134 for my effort.

It went something like this:

1. Phone rang.  Didn’t recognize number, and was going to let it go to voicemail, but for some reason I answered it.
2. “Hi, may I speak with Adam?” [oh no… not a telemarketer!  I braced myself.]
3. “This is Angela from [dental group], and I wanted to let you know it’s time for your teeth cleaning…”
4. I explained that I had moved and was getting my teeth cleaned by another dentist.
5. “Oh!  Well, there’s a $134 credit on your account.  Would you like me to send it to you?”
6. Three days later, I found a check for $134 in my mailbox.

Why am I sharing this story with you?  Well, you see, this got me to thinking.  Maybe there are other people who have changed dentists or banks or optometrists, that sort of thing.  And maybe they’re owed money, too.

Perhaps it’s worth checking for a check, eh? :-D

- A public service message from your local BLADAM

Where the hell is Matt? -- Huge smiles guaranteed!

Today’s entry is short and wonderful.  Behold, in the video below, Matt Harding… “dancing” around the world, one city at a time.  At the 54 second mark, watch the video really come alive when he delights countless locales who join in the dancing… and, i guarantee, charms all of you watching, too :-D.



For more information, see www.wherethehellismatt.com.
Also, you really really must see his other videos (linked under his name).

Edited on June 23 to add: Thank you to Bee for pointing out my URL typo! Now fixed :-D

Adventures in flying, part 13

Once again, I was off to Germany… home of good friends, heavy food, wacky long sentences, and Lufthansa, the airline whose plane I was unceremoniously squished into not like a sardine, but wurst.

I had the foot-munching-tray aisle to my right, and a stupendously larger-than-life and dumber-than-devil-fossils young fella to my left.  To his left sat an acquaintance of his, seemingly of equal gelatinousness and dimwittedness. For the purposes of this entry, we’ll call them Slad and Elad, respectively if not respectfully.

*  *  *

Slad had no sense.  No sense of etiquette, culture, space, or time.  No sense at all, really.  And he was happy to share this nonsense with me, loudly… cheerfully interrupting the safety instructions which were actually melodious and fascinating in comparison.

Slad:  HEY!
Me: Hi.
Slad:  THEY’RE TALKING GERMAN!
Me: Yeah.
Slad:  WHY ARE THEY TALKING GERMAN?
Me: It’s Lufthansa, a German airline.
Slad:  [A look even blanker than usual]
Me: ...And we’re going to Germany, so there are Germans on board.


Only the first part had sunk in.  And barely at that.


Slad:  LUFTHANGLE?
Me:  Lufthansa.
Slad:  YEAH!?  BUT THEY’RE STILL TALKING GERMAN!
Me:  [speechless]

About 30 minutes into the flight…

Slad:  HEY?
Me:  Yeah?
Slad:  HEY!  UM, I SHOULD TELL YOU SOMETHING.
Me:  You’re pregnant?
[er, actually…]
Me:  Yes?
Slad:  SOMETIMES I GET TIRED.  AND I GO TO SLEEP AND, LIKE, LEAN TO ONE SIDE. [gesticulates in the most unfortunate of directions.  My direction.]
Slad:  SO IF I DO, YOU CAN PUSH ME.  IT’S OKAY.
Me:  [Nodding, once again quite speechless]
Slad:  AND I CAN’T SLEEP WITH THIS ARM REST [pointing to the last barrier between the two of us].  SO I’LL MOVE IT.
Me:  Uh, um… I…
Slad:  [moving armrest] MRUMPH AAHHHH.

It was about at this time that I chuckled inwardly and looked for the camera.  I had finally figured out what was happening; I was now the unwitting future star of “American’s Funniest Videos… in the Sky!”

Except I wasn’t.  There was no camera.  On the stage that mattered at the moment, there was just me, Slad, and his up-‘til-now mute-and-slackjacked buddy.  The audience, if one considered it to exist, was likely amusedly credulous and undoubtedly happy to be more or less apart from the action.

*  *  *

Another hour later, I discovered that there was loving, needy-yet-giving part of Slad… which was manifested by his tender-but-firm nuzzling of his head on my shoulder, his hands in a further solid embrace upon my upper arm.  Adding to the unreality of the circumstances was Slad’s increasingly-window-rattling snort-snores.

Temporarily frozen in a powerfully combimatic state of disbelief, amusement, and horror, I began to contemplate the most efficient and effective methods of extrication.

Elad was also clearly experiencing a combination of emotions, but unlike me, was decidedly unfrozen.  In a quick flash, Elad grabbed one of the dirty-and-unsoft airline pillows and aimed to violently wack his compatriot-in-stupidity out of his amorous slumber.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Elad was bereft not only of speech and thought, but also aim. THWWWWACK! went the pillow into my face.  I was now, even more than before, very, very awake.  In contrast, Slad simply missed a snort-snore beat, which was replaced by a relatively mild gruntle before the rhythms of his sleep began anew.

It was long past time for a heave-ho.  I pushed Slad to the left, causing him to flop onto Elad.  Elad—stunned at this apparently not-before-experienced leftleaningness of his duncetwin—did the only thing he knew how to do.  He shoved back.

A soon-mostly-awake and thoroughly befuddled Slad was catapulted squishily into my lap.  Dimly ascertaining that he wasn’t where I wanted him to be, he grabbed my thigh with one hand and—with all his weight—gruntily pushed himself mostly upright.

*  *  *

I looked around in desperation.  A couple sympathetic looks, but no empty seats.  I was tempted to tell Slad that there was a big case of beer on the other end of the exit sign, but I deduced that:
1) He’d really fall for it.
2) He undeniably had the heft to easily open or at least gleefully smash through the emergency exit door.
3) I’d have even a more miserable flight at that point.

So what could I do?  I rotated through the possibilities in my head:

“Excuse me, but these guys are bear hugging and pillow fighting me!”

No, no, that made it sound very warm and fuzzy.  And I was not feeling warm and fuzzy.

“Pardon me, ma’am, but my seatmates are so dumb, I fear that they’re sucking brain matter out of me and it hurts.”

An evocative and perhaps all-too-true observation, but also unlikely to result in a satisfactory resolution.

*  *  *

Slad: HEY!
Me:  Hi.
Slad:  WE ALMOST THERE?
Me:  Not soon enough.  Not nearly soon enough.

Three short tales of not speak English

Something you can count on

I managed to get up at 8am to go to the gym today.  This is impressive, because:
- Today is Saturday.
- I went to the gym yesterday.

But that’s not really the story here.  Rather, we had a substitute teacher for our gym class who giggled in an adorable, Japanese-school-girl’ish way, and apologized for not speaking much English.  Continuing on in mildly broken English, she pleaded for us to just follow her and everything would be okay.

Okay, then. But I soon realized that something wasn’t quite okay.

Before long, it was clear that she had a pretty impressive and ready vocabulary for someone who “no speak much English.”  The only consistent FAIL part was her use, er, abuse of numbers.

“Just four more!... Okay… Eight, Seven, Six…”

“Last one!  Good!... Ten, nine…”

By the end of class, I was convinced that her English was just fine.  Indeed, her masochistic promising of “almost done!” and “just one more!” was simply an oft used evil trick of gym trainers seeking to perversely motivate people, Peanuts style (“Of course I’m not going to move the football, Charlie Brown!”)

*  *  *


Checking out my German

About a decade ago, I found myself living in Germany.  My entire German knowledge was squeezed in beforehand by a handful of one-hour German tutoring lessons and a “Learn German Today!” type book which I frantically eyeballed for the first 42 minutes of my flight to Germany before semi-dozing off.

In due time I managed—out of intense personal interest and self-preservation concerns—to learn approximately 1,742 food words.  But other vocabularies were more difficult and more risky.  Therefore, when it was time for me to set up a checking account, I knew without a doubt that it was time to plead for English.

In the Deutsche Bank in Mannheim, all in German (translated for your convenience)…
Me: Good morning.  Do you speak English?
Bank Frau, beaming mischievously: No, no I don’t.  But you speak good German!
Me, getting both scared and frustrated:  Hmm.  Does anyone speak English here?
Bank Frau:  No, only German.
Young woman behind her, now also smiling broadly:  Correct, only German.  Speak German, please.

I think I subsequently set the record for longest-time-to-set-up-checking-account.  Thankfully, I inexplicably escaped ending up with a home loan, a retirement account, seven different German Gov’t bonds, and a free t-shirt proclaiming “Ich Bin Ein Berliner.”

*  *  *

The brilliantly stupid Spanish teacher

Back in junior high, when I struggling through Spanish class, my dad told me a little story about an old high school teacher of his, whom we’ll call Señor Gonzalez.  Señor Gonzalez apparently didn’t speak English.  ANY English. 

“Lo siento, no hablo inglés.  Español, por favor.” y “Cómo? Cómo? No hablo inglés!”

And, as you can imagine, this was both incomprehensible and maddening to my dad and his fellow first-year Spanish students.

Bravely or masochistically, my dad stuck with this teacher for all four years of high school, improving his Spanish greatly.  The same linguistic improvement seemingly couldn’t be claimed by Señor Gonzalez, however; despite living in the heart of America for undoubtedly far more than my dad’s four years of high school, the stubborn Spaniard still spoke not a lick of English.

Eager to take a break from his studies, my dad got tickets for the senior prom and arrived early to help set up.  As he began walking around to the back of the auditorium, he overheard Señor Gonzales quietly talking with the principal:

“Yeah, looks like we’re gonna need some more punch and…”

My dad stood at the door entrance, jaw dropped and staring in disbelief at the English-without-an-accent-Gonzalez.

“Uh… uh… hola, Jerry!  Cómo estás?

*  *  *

Have you had any similar experiences?  Ever faked not speaking English (or another language) that you actually know?

This is an occasion. Let's toast it! (The cover of Life Magazine!)

They say the meek shall inherit… and I’m hep to the jive!

So, yes, Terry, I did have to go ahead and blog this ;-) (it’s one of the damn coolest birthday cards I’ve gotten… thanks!)

[e-card below, via Plaxo’s neato ecard offerings]

(alas, this link no longer works, sorry!)

How to pick an apartment (with the help of a damn cool Google Spreadsheet "wiki")

I’m in apartment-hunting mode, and have amassed a set of criteria for my search that I thought you might benefit from… and be able to easily add to!

With the new release of Google Docs and Spreadsheets (horrid name, super product), I can now do all sorts of cool stuff!  For instance, I’ve embedded the spreadsheet below for you to read… but I’ve also included links at the bottom for you to:

• EDIT ONLINE:  Load up the spreadsheet online in edit mode!  Your changes will be reflected within five minutes on the document AND this page, so please be both thoughtful and nice (I can revert as necessary, of course).
• EDIT OFFLINE:  Download the CSV and load it up in Excel or Excel imitator :-P.
• VIEW: ...as PDF, HTML, TXT, and in other formats as well.
• SUBSCRIBE:... view Atom or RSS

Pretty neat, eh?  And now, on with the show!

• EDIT:  View and edit online (general Google Account required; add lines as needed by right-clicking cells and selecting INSERT… or you can highlight several rows and select INSERT [n] ROWS ABOVE/BELOW)
  Aw, bummer!  As described in the comments below, I hadn’t realized that the usernames (and, thus, gmail e-mail addresses) of collaborators would be listed in this doc, so I’m un-sharing the doc until and unless this no longer happens.  Thanks, Rockya, for the discovery.
• DOWNLOAD / VIEW:  CSV, XLS (Excel format—new link for this entry), PDF, TXT, HTML, ODS
• SUBSCRIBE (1st page): Atom, RSS

I welcome your comments below…
- On the actual criteria I’ve listed (or has been added)
- On this use of Google Docs and Spreadsheets
- On anything else related to this entry :-D

Stop being a twit on twitter!

Don’t get the wrong idea.  Despite having a cold and ironically being hot in an apartment with no airconditioning, I’m not unhappy with my life.  True, I’m a bit cranky again, but I’m not deeply bummed.  Just ornery and snotty.

Today, it was just a little thing that triggered my annoyance:  For perhaps one of the last times, I read yet another asinine tweet on Twitter.  In an effort to not call out a specific (normally nice and sensible) fellow, I’ll slightly obscure it thusly: “Going to the bathroom.”

Going to the bathroom.  We all do it.  We all know we do it.  It’s not particularly exciting—at least typically—and it’s hardly the thing a normal person would announce unless there’s some particular need-to-know (roomies in a one bedroom apartment, little kids asking to be excused from a class, etc.).  But make it Web 2.0 and, wheee, suddenly people believe that they need to share such crap with others… or that others have even a faint interest in reading such banal nonsense.

So, Adam, I imagine you retorting, chill out and just unsubscribe from those people that tweet lamely.  I would, except every once in a while, these same folks refreshingly tweet something interesting or useful… or even a note or question directed specifically @me.

It’s like how your Aunt Frida (hopefully no longer) sends you teeth-gnashingly stupid forwards.  Bill Gates is gonna give you a million bucks.  P&G supports satan worship.

Frida is a good person, a well-meaning lady, but sometimes she just doesn’t THINK before she hits “send.”  And, clearly, you don’t want to filter her notes into your junk mail because at least one out of every ten notes she sends is something you really *do* want to read… a happy-birthday wish, a sad revelation about her health, or even just a simple cute “I’m thinking about you :-D.”

Thankfully, nearly all of my friends and relatives have gotten smarter about e-mail etiquette.  When are (normally quite intelligent and thoughtful) people gonna wise up about Twitter?

At risk of being told, “Dude, who the bleep do you think you are to tell us what to do?” I’m going to, well, suggest what I think is optimal Twitter usage.  You sure as heck don’t have to conform to my personal views on Good Twittering, but I’m more likely to read / less likely to unsubscribe from your tweets if you do :-D.

I believe that the following things make sense to post on Twitter:

• MOOD:  How you’re feeling (“Kind of sick; apologies if I take longer than usual to reply to e-mails.”)
• QUEST:  What you’re looking for or struggling with (“Dang, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find Hanuta in Bay Area stores.  If you don’t know the joys of Hanuta… Google it! :D”)
• ACTION:  What you’re doing (“Struggling with a blog post.  Hate sounding so holier-than-thou, but sometimes a good rant is needed, you know?”)
• ANTICIPATION:  What you’re looking forward to (“Planning a trip to Seattle, Montreal and Toronto… can’t wait!  Anyone got tips?  E-mail me!”)
• FILTERING:  What you find interesting (“Fascinating article on…”)

The following ought to result in you getting slapped with a wet e-noodle and subjected to watching hours of old Jerry Springer videos with the sound real loud:

• CHEESE SANDWICH:  What you’re doing that is totally boring / regular / etc. (“Having lunch” or “Reading my e-mail”...)
• BORINGLY PERSONAL:  What you’re writing is positively of interest to only one person (“Hey Fred… please don’t forget to return that book!” or “@Mary, thanks!”)  Try e-mail.  Or IM.  Or (gasp) the phone!
• BLOGVERTISING:  What you’re blogging.  Each and every time.  For the love of RSS, if I wanted to be notified of your *every* post, I’d subscribe to your feed. 

*  *  *

Look, I haven’t said anything sooner ‘cause I worred about offending people… folks that I like and respect.  And there’s been plenty of Twitter-hate already.  But I don’t hate Twitter… I am just deeply frustrated by what I perceive as the wasting of its potential.  It’d be so neat to have a quick window into friends’ and colleagues life.  I care when my friends are tired.  I’m curious to know when my colleagues are traveling to a conference.  Even something as seemingly boring as “Filling up junky ‘92 Sentra en route to Chicago.  Why didn’t I fly?!” tells me what kind of car you have, that you’re on a trip, that you’re frustrated, and you’re going to Chicago.  Contrast that with the absolutely useless waste of space: “At the gas station.”  Blegh!

So I implore you, before I feel compelled to uninstall Twitteroo and delete my account—think just a brief moment before you tweet.  Ask yourself:

• Will more than one or two people in the world care about this?
• Can I add even a smidgen more detail to make this informative or entertaining?

Please… and thank you!

[Blippet] The Case of the Changed Chairs

I work in a small office with three other Googlers.  That’s pretty typical around here; I don’t know of a single person that has their own office, though we’re always free to roam to a quieter place with our laptops and ubiquitous wireless access.

It’s also a delightfully multicultural office:
- One Croatian fellow.
- One Chinese guy.
- A Bulgarian guy.
- And me, the boring American.

We often will break up the day with little chats about cultural issues… food, linguistic confusion, traditions, etc.  Today, though, our heads-down work was interrupted when P came in, sat down, and looked a bit concerned.

P:  Something is wrong with my chair.
[silence]
P:  Did someone change it?  Something’s off.
Y: [taking notice]  Hmm… my chair’s kind of funny today, too.  Maybe someone took both our chairs?
P:  It’s too low.  This is strange. [pauses, looks out the door of the office, as if to catch the chair thief / chair transmogrifier]
Y:  Mine’s kinda high.  Doesn’t feel right.
Me: [finally paying attention] Um, guys.  Maybe you just got each other’s chair?
[P looks at Y.  Y looks at P.  They swap chairs.]
[contented brief silence]
Y: Ah, mine’s the black one.  That’s right!
P: Yeah, that’s better!
[shaking head]

Looks like I got a case of the Mondays. But why?

Today is a bad day.  A particularly consistent bad day.  Not an awful day, mind you, but just bad enough to be laughably annoying.  And this got me to thinking…

Why is it that bad luck seems to come in strings… chains… in groups… whatever?

My example today:

• Had bathroom conflicts with roomie and her guest.
• Left in a hurry, forgot both cell phone and Google security card.
• Shuttle on the way to work was cramped, couldn’t work effectively on laptop.
• Due to bridge being damaged *and* another accident, I was late to work and had to push back a 10am meeting.
• Pulling laptop out of backpack at work, I accidentally broke off the antenna on my broadband wireless card.
• Allergies are acting up.  Blech :(.
• There were no communal coffee mugs left this morning.
• In a rush to grab my coffee-comfort (thank goodness for paper cups!), I spilled coffee grounds on myself.

Okay, so none of that is earth shattering.  My dog didn’t die, my wife didn’t run away with my pickup truck and shotgun, and I didn’t get beer spilled on me (admittedly, not having a dog, a wife, a pickup truck, a shotgun, or an affinity for beer makes this example somewhat inapt, but no matter).  Anyway, it’s still enough even-minorly-bad-stuff in a row (and by noon!) to make one wonder…

What is it about Mondays that causes so much misery?  Why do so many bad things seem to happen in a row?

Perception
Maybe we’re made cranky by the first bad thing, and thus are more attuned to subsequent annoyances.  Or, we subconsciously / culturally correlate Mondays with Trouble in our mind, and thus when bad things happen, this perception is simply reinforced.

Causation
Unpleasant incidences tend to directly cause other icky happenings (e.g., being late in the morning causes you to rush and be less careful and attentive, thus leading to forgetting important objects or procedures and/or causing you to move carelessly and stub various body parts).  Or unhappy moments make one more stressed or preoccupied in such a way as to be mentally or physically unprepared for typical challenges and obstacles, thus causing subsequent mishaps.

Any other theories?
And how is your Monday going so far?

Getting hired by Google

I recently noticed that a fellow Googler posted some thoughtful tips about interviewing at Google, and -- now that I'm a bit more comfortable blogging about Work -- I figured I'd contribute to the conversation a bit by offering my own, unofficial tips.

Note the unofficial part. I work in Search Quality; aside from occasionally being asked to interview candidates (like most Googlers) -- I have nothing to do with our recruiting, recruiters, etc., nor do I pretend to speak for the HR folks. The stuff below is based on my own observations and opinions.

* * *

Application and interview tips
Broadly: be interesting, be humble, demonstrate outstanding competence in your direct area, briefly highlight your well-roundedness (academically, workwise, and personally), and clarify how you are an excellent
fit with both the position you're applying for and Google overall.

Admittedly, with an insane number of applications a year, it is a bit of a numbers game.  Some outstanding people get rejected.  And, though I haven't witnessed this personally, I'm sure some jerks get offers.  Luckily, Google's been overhauling its hiring processes, and I'm optimistic that particularly the percentage of great people getting overlooked (in relation to the number of apps) will decrease.

Some specific tips and notes:

• Write a decent cover letter


• Write with a tone that's professional yet warm... not stiff or dry.  Your (discernible) voice should come through.
• Keep it to one page (max!) or less.  Maybe even a lot less.
• Convince Google of the fits described above -- that's critical!!!
• Your resume can be in PDF, Word, HTML, or text formats (unless otherwise requested, of course!)


• But note that it will be ultimately printed out.  This means that reasonable pagination can be helpful and also suggests that a comprehensive 20 page document is perhaps not a great idea.  When you want your recruiter and interviewers to know more about your background & interests, links are your friends. 


• Respectful persistence can be appropriate


• If you genuinely have another offer on the table, let your recruiter know! If the recruiter promised to get back with you in [x] days, and in [x+1 or x+2] days you haven't heard back, politely e-mail them.
• If you have a friend at Google who can articulately and sincerely vouch for you, that can work in your favor.


• Your association / relationship with that person matters.  They'll be asked how they know you and how well they know you (and your skills).
• Passion matters and is skillfully perceived.  You're probably wasting your time unless you really are
  excited about a particular position.
• Getting turned down for one Google position does not mean you're ineligible to apply for another position down the road.
• General interview advice that probably applies for pretty much any company:


• Ask thoughtful questions.
• Allow time for traffic and parking and finding the right building. Google -- at least the Mountain View campus -- is a big place!
• Dress one or two steps better than you expect your interviewers to be.  Less than that, and people may wonder about your judgment. More than that, and people may think you're clueless or arrogant.


• The "right" dress at Google probably varies by department. Engineering folks tend to be more informally dressed than sales folks.  If you're interviewing for a senior management position, I'd probably dress a bit more formally than you would for an intern interview.  But the official advice also really makes sense here:  dress comfortably.  If you feel comfortable and confident, it'll show.
• Get a good night's sleep the two nights before.  Sleep deficits are cumulative.  If you have a
  morning interview, make sure you're getting up early the two or three mornings before to get yourself ready to be mentally and physically alert during your interview time.  On a similar health note, drink and eat smartly the day of your interview.  Hunger pangs are distracting.
• Invest in a good pen to take to interviews.  The heft and reliability can be a real-even-if-small confidence booster.  Taking occasional notes can help you remember info or questions for later, and also might indicate a sense of thoughtfulness and interest to your interviewer.
• On the whole, think of interviews kind of like first dates.  You don't want to do all or even most of the talking.  You're there to impress, to learn, to help determine whether there's a good potential for a relationship.  First impressions are important.  Show you are caring and thoughtful by asking good questions.  Avoid having spinach in your teeth (floss beforehand!).

Possibly-little-known factoid:

No Googler -- not even Larry or Sergey -- can singlehandedly extend an employment offer to anyone.  While candidates don't have to go through as many interviews nowadays, most candidates -- regardless of level -- typically interview with quite a few peers; team-fit is critical!

* * *

I expect to offer some more Google-thoughts in the future, but -- as a reminder -- this is my personal blog, and as such, I expect to generally blather on about anything I feel like discussing, ranting, dissecting, punning, lamenting, etc... which is more likely than not to be boring to the impatient sort.

Oh, and one last thing: please keep comments on-topic as a courtesy not only to me, but to the cool folks reading my blog. Thanks!

* * *

Related entries:
- A blunt note to HR folks and interviewers
- How to evaluate your current job & career... and thoughtfully consider future options

and lastly, for a blast-from-the-past... some perspective & a bit of cranky ranting...

- What do you do? (self = job?) And how are you?

Natural energy boosters guaranteed to kick your ass (in a good way)

I guarantee* that the following all-natural AdamSpecial (“CafeKeek” in honor of my now-undoubtedly-horrified French friends) will put a pep in your step, will put the mmmmm in mooove, will take the ache out of awake…

Required…
1) Coffee beans + grinder (ideal) OR not-terribly-fine-ground coffee (okay) OR instant coffee (will do in a pinch; can ignore French press/strainer instructions)
2) Milk (ideally non-fat, optionally low-fat) OR milk substitute that can be heated/drunk hot or warm
3) French press OR extra container + a strainer
4) Teaspoon
5) and - unless you don’t like sweet stuff—one of the following Adam-named add-ins
- “Plain Sweetie”:  Sugar—one to two teaspoons per cup of milk.
- “Chocolate Jesus”:  Pure unsweetened cocoa powder and sugar (one teaspoon each per cup of milk) OR pre-sweetened chocolate syrup / cocoa powder (Nestle Quik does not count!)
- “Cuckoo du mint”:  The Jesus ingredients above + three drops pure mint extract per cup of milk OR Trader Joe’s mint cocoa powder

Instructions for making CafeKeek…
1) Boil milk OR heat milk in microwave (ideally use a microwavable measuring cup or similar item for easy pouring)
2a) Got a French press?  Put in the ground coffee but not other ingredients.
2b) Using a strainer?  Add ground coffee to intermediate container (that you can easily pour from into your drinking cup)
3) Pour hot milk into either French press or intermediate container.  Wait 5 minutes.
4) Pour coffee-soaked hot milk into drinking container (using strainer if you didn’t use a French press)
5) Add optional other ingredients and stir with teaspoon.
6) Enjoy, then come back here and write a comment about how much you loved it and how you’re eternally grateful to me and so on.
7) Repeat, but probably not on the same day.

Strongly recommended in conjuction with CafeKeek…
- Protein—either a handful of nuts or some peanut butter on a cracker, etc.
- Potassium—a banana works great (half of one is fine)
- Exercise—no time for a real workout?  Prefix the incomparable CafeKeek with 18 jumping jacks or 18 seconds of jump-roping or anything else to quickly get your heart pumping.  I’m serious about this… it really helps!

*  *  *

Okay, now it’s your turn.  What natural foods / practices do you use to help wake you up? (so, yeah, those energy drinks with unpronounceable ingredients don’t qualify here)

*Guaranteed satisfaction, or your pro-rated BLADAM subscription fees reimbursed!

Luck, girls, flies, truffles, tall people, and 100 BILLION dollars

I’ve been duly inspired by my friend Graham.  And given that I’m too lazy / cautious / tired to do a deep and meaningful and original blog entry this evening, I’ve decided to instead just share a few thoughts about the search phrases people have used to get to my humble BLADAM 2.0 site over the last 3 days.  Each phrase is linked to the entry on my blog that the searcher clicked through to (providing a fulfilling-but-sometimes-scary-bladam-blast-from-the-past!)

First, the odd but undoubtedly heartfelt declaration:

     i have bad luck

I’m sorry, fella.  I’m not quite sure what sort of solace or answers you were seeking in this grand set of clogged tubes, but luckily another BLADAM visitor feels your pain and offers this advice:


     dont feel sad about bad luck

Well, there you have it!  Now we just need Bobby McFerrin to pop by and it’ll all be hunky dory.

Oh, and speaking of heartfelt, I had a few zillion folks visiting here searching for advice about girls (specifically, how to win them over and settle down happy ever after, or at least see them naked).  Faithful readers… let me just be straight with you up front here:  you’re asking the wrong guy, and you’re definitely browsing the wrong blog.  Do I look like Oprah to you?  [hint: the answer to that should be NO.]

So, without further ado, here are the lovestruck searchers:

     how do i talk to the girl i like after telling her i like her

Very carefully.  And potentially from a great distance if she or her boyfriend are armed, dangerous, and/or jealous.


     how do i impress a girl who likes me and i like her

Dude, get a grip.  You like her.  She likes you.  What’s with this impressing crap?  Get off the computer and go have some fun!

     how to impress a girl when we dont know her

Uh… there’s more than one of you?  I dunno about this group impressing concept.  “Okay, Jake, now it’s your turn!  Here, I’ll throw you the ukulele and unicycle!”  Personally, I’d lean towards the one-guy-per-girl sort of thing (unless you’re in the Bay Area and then, hey, as long as no one gets hurt…).  What’s that?  Oh… my lawyers have insisted that I add this disclaimer:  if you do try to woo her with a unicycle, use a helmet, please.  And a slotted spoon for catching the potato. (I have weird lawyers).

*  *  *

And now we veer into slightly less romantic territory.

     flies in my apartment

That’s nothing.  I have bats in my belfry AND I’m going bananas!  Anyway, just go to the store to get some flypaper and then call your landlord.  No… don’t call him that!  You can catch more flies with honey…

And speaking of sweet (oooo… love these transitions!  Adam, were you once a newspaper editor?  Why, yes I was!)...


     calories in moonstruck truffles

Okay, let me be politically incorrect for a moment.
- Similar to the how-much-does-that-necklace-in-the-window-cost rule:  If you have to ask, you can’t afford to eat it.
- No, there aren’t low fat / low cal truffles.
- Even if there were, they’d be an affront to dog and man.
- And lastly, yes, you have a big butt, I cannot lie.

For those who CAN afford anything they ask about…


     what 100 billion dollars can buy

Whoa… er, hi, Bill!  A pleasure to have you visiting my blog!  I’m delighted to answer your question (what, Clippy was unavailable?)
100 billion dollars can cover…
- A very large portion of my student loans.
- A brain transplant for a good many members of the U.S. Congress, particularly Ted Stevens.
- And… oh, wait, I guess that’ll pretty much use up the 100b.  Still, they’re both such worthy causes!

And finally… for those who don’t have 100 billion to spend on fancy gym equipment, there’s the following:


     work outs for tall people

Certainly, that’s an easy one.  Lift short people.

*  *  *

Thank you, come again!