My roommate apparently has developed a fear of picking up the phone when he doesn't know who it is. We got a phone call about 10 minutes ago (my phone/answering machine is in the living room, I had left the cordless handset charging in the unit) and he was in the living room while I was in my bedroom, he let it ring until the caller ID came up -- this took 1 1/2 rings. Our machine picks up after 4 rings. When the caller ID came up, he yelled out, "It says 'out of area,'" so I responded, "Well, pick it up then." He said almost pleadingly, "But it says 'out of area.'" I heard his girlfriend say, "What's that mean? Why can't you just pick it up?" The phone's still ringing. I finally just yelled out, "So pick it up!" On the fourth ring, he finally picked it up just before the machine would've gotten it. I'm thankful he did, since it was my parents calling long-distance to let me know they had arrived safely in Arizona, where they're spending this week looking at potential retirement places.

While Caller ID is a great thing and it allows me to duck calls I don't want to take, it's not perfect and I realize calls will occasionally come up with just a phone number or "out of area." I'm not anti-social so I will pick up the phone if I don't know who it is, but I have no idea what would cause a person to develop a phone phobia, except maybe being clubbed over the head with one repeatedly. My roommate, on the other hand, has developed the habit of just standing there and looking at the caller ID readout when it comes up with something he doesn't recognize, as if divine inspiration will suddenly cause the identity of the anonymous caller to blossom in his head. And I can pretty much guarantee that it's not gonna happen

I'm noticing that I've developed an odd tendency to make verbs out of nouns to describe activities. This was brought to my attention earlier today when a friend called and asked, "What are you doing?" to which I replied without thinking, "I'm Dreamcasting."

This habit has endless possibilities. And also in terms of speaking habits, I've noticed a fair amount of people asking me if I'm from Canada. I have no idea where that accent came from, I grew up in Connecticut where accents are prohibited by law.

I'm noticing that I've developed an odd tendency to make verbs out of nouns to describe activities. This was brought to my attention earlier today when a friend called and asked, "What are you doing?" to which I replied without thinking, "I'm Dreamcasting."

This habit has endless possibilities. And also in terms of speaking habits, I've noticed a fair amount of people asking me if I'm from Canada. I have no idea where that accent came from, I grew up in Connecticut where accents are prohibited by law.

Sometime during the course of last night, an entire box of Eggo Waf-fuls disappeared from my freezer. Given that I don't remember much from last night at all, there's a plate on my bedroom floor and the box is in my kitchen garbage, it's entirely possible that they were eaten by Freezer Gnomes.

Sometime during the course of last night, an entire box of Eggo Waf-fuls disappeared from my freezer. Given that I don't remember much from last night at all, there's a plate on my bedroom floor and the box is in my kitchen garbage, it's entirely possible that they were eaten by Freezer Gnomes.

Unfortunately, this is not an interview I went on recently, but I'm recalling it now because I'm trying to convince myself not to apply for just any job for the sake of having one. This interview took place several years ago when I was in my last month of college and trying to get a job for after graduation (which, in some ways, was easier than trying to get a job now, though harder in other ways). When I look back on it, it really reminds me of the movie Boiler Room.

I saw an ad in the Boston Globe for a company that said "marketing/public relations, entry-level," so I sent them my resume. I figured I didn't get more entry-level than where I was at, so that's basically what I was looking for when I was reading through classifieds. In response, the company called back a couple of weeks later, saying they were interested and could I come up to their offices for a day-long interview process? I was a little confused by the fact that their interviewing took so long, but I figured I'd give it a shot.

So bright & early one morning, I get in my car and drive up to their offices, which were on the second floor of a small building in Woburn (for those of you not familiar with Boston geography, Woburn is about a half-hour outside of Boston on the "beltway" highway). Again, confusion crept into my head when I walked in the door and saw about 20 or so people, all dressed in suits & ties, looking like they were interviewing as well. But I passed the time by reading some of the thank you letters that were posted on the wall, figuring I could get a sense of the company and what they did from those, but none of them were from local businesses and they were all addressed to different people all over the country, and that got me a little suspicious. Furthermore, there was an open space with a walled-off office, but the rest of the desks were in another large room off to the side that we weren't allowed in. And just before the door to that side office opened and people came streaming out of it, I heard loud timed laughter and then indiscriminate chanting -- like they were yelling out their corporate mantra or something.

The door to the Forbidden Room opened and everyone came out, all energetic and projecting the image of "you want to be a part of this company? You have to prove it to me!" They milled around saying hi to all of us people sitting there wondering what happens next, and then the office director started speaking. He told us all that we would be doing "on-the-ground interviewing" and that we would be evaluated by our team leader, then brought back here to the office for an overall evaluation. He read off names, divided us up into small groups of two interviewees and an interviewer, and off we went. My interviewer was young -- mid 20s -- and came across like a combination of a slick frat boy and a car salesman, which immediately set off a couple of warning sirens in my head but I quashed them because I didn't know the guy and shouldn't stereotype.

We got out to my interviewer's car, which was parked across the street, and he started giving us more details about the company. Seems this office is new (which kind of explained the misplaced letters on the wall) and they're looking to rapidly expand their territory in the Boston area. They represent all kinds of businesses from all over the country, and they have offices everywhere. The great thing about the company is that it's geared to help people advance quickly and open their own offices. Why, he was going to be moving out of the Boston area and opening his first office in either Cleveland or Columbus, Ohio, in a month or two, and he'd only been with the company 9 months! Did I know another company that would allow me to do that in such a short time period? (No, I didn't, but I knew I didn't want to move to Ohio.) Meanwhile, while he's telling us all these great things about the company, we're getting farther and farther away from Boston, and the trip's taking longer and longer. Where the hell were we going?

So, the company. The other great thing about the company is that it's focussed and gets results. They hit everyone. It's not like regular marketing where it's through the mail and people can easily throw it out, or a commercial on TV or on the radio where people can easily change the channel or use commercial time to get something to eat or hit the bathroom, or in the newspaper where people may not see it or just flip a page. They talk to people personally! My stomach started to churn as I realized what he meant -- they're door-to-door salesmen. And I was trapped for an entire day. Meanwhile, we're still getting farther and farther away from the city, and we eventually ended up in a small town called Millis, which was probably a good hour drive from Woburn.

Huckster Guy told us about the product we'd be "pitching" today -- it was a discount membership deal card for a local restaurant. Visit so many times, they punch a hole in your card each time you go, when you fill the card, they give you a free entree or something. It's a great deal! So we pull up to some random neighborhood ("territory," he called it) and got out of the car and watched this guy do his thing. Complete door-to-door salesman. Had the measured speech down pat. And people did exactly what I would've done -- said "no thanks" and shut the door before he was done. I felt awful putting these people through something that I hate to deal with, because I know what an annoyance pestering them at their houses is and I hate pestering people.

Meanwhile, the sky is starting to darken a bit and it definitely looks like rain is on its way. I haven't brought an umbrella because I thought I'd be inside all day, not selling my soul outside in the cold. On our walk down the main road to "more territory," a car carrying a couple more interviewees passed us -- they were on their way to lunch and I hoped my interviewer would take the hint, since it was 1:30PM and starting to drizzle, and I was hungry. He didn't get the hint. We kept on going. Finally, 45 minutes later, we get back to the car and go to lunch -- he found us some random pizza joint and we bought our own lunches, and he started giving us the corporate shpiel again. He went down how you buy "product" from the company at a discount and then sell it back, so you decide your own involvement. And the best part about it is the rapid advancement! While he's talking about it, he's asking us all these questions about the company -- quizzing us, basically, to see if we've been listening -- and the other guy I've been assigned to spend the day with is regurgitating the answers like a proper little robot should. When the interviewer leaves to go to the bathroom, I ask him what he thinks of the company and is he interested, and he starts spewing back the same lines: "Oh yeah, I mean, look at the advancement potential, and you choose your own involvement, etc., etc." He's either really buying into it, or he's a plant from the company and I'm being double-teamed.

So after lunch, we head back out. Back to the same "territory." I mention something about the rain, and Huckster Guy says, "Well, that's something we often have to deal with." So we get back to the neighborhood we were in, and Huckster Guy suggests the two of us try selling these restaurant card things with him observing -- if he likes what he sees and thinks we're doing okay, he'll let us try on our own. My heart drops as I realize I'm going to have to ring people's doorbells and disturb them while they're eating/reading/doing laundry/paying bills/whatever. But I do it, and after 1 or 2 houses, the interviewer seems satisfied that we've learned the pitch and sends us out on our own. I pray that most of the houses I'm assigned to are empty, which they thankfully are, but I still catch a few people at home and I know Huckster Guy is watching so I make my pitch. Mercifully, a couple of people actually buy the card from me, but as it turns out, since Huckster Guy bought the "product" from the company, he keeps the profits from my work.

6PM rolls around and it's dark and I'm cold and soaked -- and wearing a suit, no less! -- and finally Huckster Guy decides it's time to head back to Woburn. So once we're in the car and well on our way back, I realize that not only am I not going to be able to meet my girlfriend for dinner because we've still got that wrap-up interview afterwards, I'm also not going to be able to make the appointment I've arranged to be part of an experiment the Neuropsych department was running. So I dig out my cell phone and start making calls, telling the Neuropsych guy I don't know when I'll be back on campus but it will be late so I'll call him the next day to reschedule, and telling my girlfriend I'll call her later and I'm really sorry that I can't make dinner at 7 as we planned but would she be willing to push off for later and I'll let her know when I'm out.

The office in Woburn is packed with all the little hucksters and their interviewees, they have a boom box set up playing a local radio station and everyone's drinking punch -- literally, punch. No food and it's 7:30 and I'm starving and cold and still wet, so I'm not in the mood to socialize that much, but I try to chat with a few people. Every now & then, the office manager will call an interviewee into his office for the wrap-up interview and "evaluation," and they can leave afterwards. The crowd is getting smaller and smaller as more people are evaluated, but I'm still there. I go over to the window around 9:15 to call my girlfriend again to tell her I'm still her I'm still there, I don't know when I'm coming back but I hope it's soon because I'm starving and tired and cold and wet. A little after 9:30, they call me into the manager's office, and I'm one of the last people still there.

After all this, the manager had the gall to tell me he doesn't think I'm a team player because he noticed me on my cell phone earlier and my interviewer told him that I made "several calls throughout the day" (which wasn't true, only the two in the car and the one in the office), to which I replied that I had made plans tonight because I was under the impression "all-day interview" meant business hours and I was cancelling my dinner and evening plans to stay with the company, so if anything that made me more of a team player. I don't know why I tried justifying myself to this guy since at this point I was totally uninterested in any position he'd offer me, plus I just wanted to get out of there. But either way, the manager shrugged and said, "Well, if we decide to offer you a position, you should be hearing from us within the next two weeks." I thanked him and got the hell out of there.

To this day, I still see their ads in the Boston Globe and the sad thing is that they're not even advertising in just the Sunday classifieds, they have three different ads running in the classifieds every single day. And I wonder how many people are responding to them because they need a job and think "Hey, this looks like I might be able to score an interview." But I still think back on that "interview," and it makes me want to shower to get the stench of slick salesman off of me.

Unfortunately, this is not an interview I went on recently, but I'm recalling it now because I'm trying to convince myself not to apply for just any job for the sake of having one. This interview took place several years ago when I was in my last month of college and trying to get a job for after graduation (which, in some ways, was easier than trying to get a job now, though harder in other ways). When I look back on it, it really reminds me of the movie Boiler Room.

I saw an ad in the Boston Globe for a company that said "marketing/public relations, entry-level," so I sent them my resume. I figured I didn't get more entry-level than where I was at, so that's basically what I was looking for when I was reading through classifieds. In response, the company called back a couple of weeks later, saying they were interested and could I come up to their offices for a day-long interview process? I was a little confused by the fact that their interviewing took so long, but I figured I'd give it a shot.

So bright & early one morning, I get in my car and drive up to their offices, which were on the second floor of a small building in Woburn (for those of you not familiar with Boston geography, Woburn is about a half-hour outside of Boston on the "beltway" highway). Again, confusion crept into my head when I walked in the door and saw about 20 or so people, all dressed in suits & ties, looking like they were interviewing as well. But I passed the time by reading some of the thank you letters that were posted on the wall, figuring I could get a sense of the company and what they did from those, but none of them were from local businesses and they were all addressed to different people all over the country, and that got me a little suspicious. Furthermore, there was an open space with a walled-off office, but the rest of the desks were in another large room off to the side that we weren't allowed in. And just before the door to that side office opened and people came streaming out of it, I heard loud timed laughter and then indiscriminate chanting -- like they were yelling out their corporate mantra or something.

The door to the Forbidden Room opened and everyone came out, all energetic and projecting the image of "you want to be a part of this company? You have to prove it to me!" They milled around saying hi to all of us people sitting there wondering what happens next, and then the office director started speaking. He told us all that we would be doing "on-the-ground interviewing" and that we would be evaluated by our team leader, then brought back here to the office for an overall evaluation. He read off names, divided us up into small groups of two interviewees and an interviewer, and off we went. My interviewer was young -- mid 20s -- and came across like a combination of a slick frat boy and a car salesman, which immediately set off a couple of warning sirens in my head but I quashed them because I didn't know the guy and shouldn't stereotype.

We got out to my interviewer's car, which was parked across the street, and he started giving us more details about the company. Seems this office is new (which kind of explained the misplaced letters on the wall) and they're looking to rapidly expand their territory in the Boston area. They represent all kinds of businesses from all over the country, and they have offices everywhere. The great thing about the company is that it's geared to help people advance quickly and open their own offices. Why, he was going to be moving out of the Boston area and opening his first office in either Cleveland or Columbus, Ohio, in a month or two, and he'd only been with the company 9 months! Did I know another company that would allow me to do that in such a short time period? (No, I didn't, but I knew I didn't want to move to Ohio.) Meanwhile, while he's telling us all these great things about the company, we're getting farther and farther away from Boston, and the trip's taking longer and longer. Where the hell were we going?

So, the company. The other great thing about the company is that it's focussed and gets results. They hit everyone. It's not like regular marketing where it's through the mail and people can easily throw it out, or a commercial on TV or on the radio where people can easily change the channel or use commercial time to get something to eat or hit the bathroom, or in the newspaper where people may not see it or just flip a page. They talk to people personally! My stomach started to churn as I realized what he meant -- they're door-to-door salesmen. And I was trapped for an entire day. Meanwhile, we're still getting farther and farther away from the city, and we eventually ended up in a small town called Millis, which was probably a good hour drive from Woburn.

Huckster Guy told us about the product we'd be "pitching" today -- it was a discount membership deal card for a local restaurant. Visit so many times, they punch a hole in your card each time you go, when you fill the card, they give you a free entree or something. It's a great deal! So we pull up to some random neighborhood ("territory," he called it) and got out of the car and watched this guy do his thing. Complete door-to-door salesman. Had the measured speech down pat. And people did exactly what I would've done -- said "no thanks" and shut the door before he was done. I felt awful putting these people through something that I hate to deal with, because I know what an annoyance pestering them at their houses is and I hate pestering people.

Meanwhile, the sky is starting to darken a bit and it definitely looks like rain is on its way. I haven't brought an umbrella because I thought I'd be inside all day, not selling my soul outside in the cold. On our walk down the main road to "more territory," a car carrying a couple more interviewees passed us -- they were on their way to lunch and I hoped my interviewer would take the hint, since it was 1:30PM and starting to drizzle, and I was hungry. He didn't get the hint. We kept on going. Finally, 45 minutes later, we get back to the car and go to lunch -- he found us some random pizza joint and we bought our own lunches, and he started giving us the corporate shpiel again. He went down how you buy "product" from the company at a discount and then sell it back, so you decide your own involvement. And the best part about it is the rapid advancement! While he's talking about it, he's asking us all these questions about the company -- quizzing us, basically, to see if we've been listening -- and the other guy I've been assigned to spend the day with is regurgitating the answers like a proper little robot should. When the interviewer leaves to go to the bathroom, I ask him what he thinks of the company and is he interested, and he starts spewing back the same lines: "Oh yeah, I mean, look at the advancement potential, and you choose your own involvement, etc., etc." He's either really buying into it, or he's a plant from the company and I'm being double-teamed.

So after lunch, we head back out. Back to the same "territory." I mention something about the rain, and Huckster Guy says, "Well, that's something we often have to deal with." So we get back to the neighborhood we were in, and Huckster Guy suggests the two of us try selling these restaurant card things with him observing -- if he likes what he sees and thinks we're doing okay, he'll let us try on our own. My heart drops as I realize I'm going to have to ring people's doorbells and disturb them while they're eating/reading/doing laundry/paying bills/whatever. But I do it, and after 1 or 2 houses, the interviewer seems satisfied that we've learned the pitch and sends us out on our own. I pray that most of the houses I'm assigned to are empty, which they thankfully are, but I still catch a few people at home and I know Huckster Guy is watching so I make my pitch. Mercifully, a couple of people actually buy the card from me, but as it turns out, since Huckster Guy bought the "product" from the company, he keeps the profits from my work.

6PM rolls around and it's dark and I'm cold and soaked -- and wearing a suit, no less! -- and finally Huckster Guy decides it's time to head back to Woburn. So once we're in the car and well on our way back, I realize that not only am I not going to be able to meet my girlfriend for dinner because we've still got that wrap-up interview afterwards, I'm also not going to be able to make the appointment I've arranged to be part of an experiment the Neuropsych department was running. So I dig out my cell phone and start making calls, telling the Neuropsych guy I don't know when I'll be back on campus but it will be late so I'll call him the next day to reschedule, and telling my girlfriend I'll call her later and I'm really sorry that I can't make dinner at 7 as we planned but would she be willing to push off for later and I'll let her know when I'm out.

The office in Woburn is packed with all the little hucksters and their interviewees, they have a boom box set up playing a local radio station and everyone's drinking punch -- literally, punch. No food and it's 7:30 and I'm starving and cold and still wet, so I'm not in the mood to socialize that much, but I try to chat with a few people. Every now & then, the office manager will call an interviewee into his office for the wrap-up interview and "evaluation," and they can leave afterwards. The crowd is getting smaller and smaller as more people are evaluated, but I'm still there. I go over to the window around 9:15 to call my girlfriend again to tell her I'm still her I'm still there, I don't know when I'm coming back but I hope it's soon because I'm starving and tired and cold and wet. A little after 9:30, they call me into the manager's office, and I'm one of the last people still there.

After all this, the manager had the gall to tell me he doesn't think I'm a team player because he noticed me on my cell phone earlier and my interviewer told him that I made "several calls throughout the day" (which wasn't true, only the two in the car and the one in the office), to which I replied that I had made plans tonight because I was under the impression "all-day interview" meant business hours and I was cancelling my dinner and evening plans to stay with the company, so if anything that made me more of a team player. I don't know why I tried justifying myself to this guy since at this point I was totally uninterested in any position he'd offer me, plus I just wanted to get out of there. But either way, the manager shrugged and said, "Well, if we decide to offer you a position, you should be hearing from us within the next two weeks." I thanked him and got the hell out of there.

To this day, I still see their ads in the Boston Globe and the sad thing is that they're not even advertising in just the Sunday classifieds, they have three different ads running in the classifieds every single day. And I wonder how many people are responding to them because they need a job and think "Hey, this looks like I might be able to score an interview." But I still think back on that "interview," and it makes me want to shower to get the stench of slick salesman off of me.

Heretofore unknown scientific fact: hot dogs will explode if you try to cook them on a George Foreman Grill. Don't ask why. Just grab a sponge and help me clean.

Heretofore unknown scientific fact: hot dogs will explode if you try to cook them on a George Foreman Grill. Don't ask why. Just grab a sponge and help me clean.

I still think that one of the best measures of a person's ego is whether or not they can make fun of themselves. Self-deprecation is definitely a good sign of a secure person. If someone can't make fun of themself, they are either too insecure and fear perpetuating any bad perceptions about them, or they're too egotistical and feel that making remarks about themself (unless they're complimentary) is beneath them.

The same goes for actors. Arnold Schwartzenegger's best and most memorable line was in Last Action Hero, when he punched through a car window, then turned and said, "Ow! Dat hurt!" (Last Action Hero was a completely underrated film, by the way. I highly recommend it.)

I still think that one of the best measures of a person's ego is whether or not they can make fun of themselves. Self-deprecation is definitely a good sign of a secure person. If someone can't make fun of themself, they are either too insecure and fear perpetuating any bad perceptions about them, or they're too egotistical and feel that making remarks about themself (unless they're complimentary) is beneath them.

The same goes for actors. Arnold Schwartzenegger's best and most memorable line was in Last Action Hero, when he punched through a car window, then turned and said, "Ow! Dat hurt!" (Last Action Hero was a completely underrated film, by the way. I highly recommend it.)

To the apparently un-politically correct worker who was singing to himself as we rode up in the elevator this morning: It's "Secret Agent Man," not "Secret Asian Man." I don't think ethnicity is something you can hide very easily, unless you're an Eastern European mutt like myself.

To the apparently un-politically correct worker who was singing to himself as we rode up in the elevator this morning: It's "Secret Agent Man," not "Secret Asian Man." I don't think ethnicity is something you can hide very easily, unless you're an Eastern European mutt like myself.

It really doesn't take much to amuse me. Case in point, I just spent 15 minutes playing with the Samuel L. Jackson Celebrity Soundboard. Man, he just cracks me up. And he's a cool mofo. (Link blatantly pilfered from Heather.)

It really doesn't take much to amuse me. Case in point, I just spent 15 minutes playing with the Samuel L. Jackson Celebrity Soundboard. Man, he just cracks me up. And he's a cool mofo. (Link blatantly pilfered from Heather.)