I warned you. =D
-PatInTheHat
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Monday, February 23, 2015
Driving Me Crazy
Frankly, I'm surprised I haven't commented on this, yet. I understand that my driving experience is limited to about 7 or so years, but I feel like I've driven enough to, ya know, know how to.
I will never, period, ever, period, understand the recklessness of most drivers. There are even insurance companies, who want your money more than anything, that have commercials talking about safe driving. "Make sure you're at least a 3-count behind the driver in front of you to ensure you have ample time to stop blah blah blah."
It's cute, right? I mean, it's basically completely wrong, but it means well.
Before I continue I should mention that I do NOT follow the book to the "T." For anyone out there, who has any idea who I am, I basically don't do a single thing to a "T." "Common" is not my first, middle, or last name.*
For those that ever read a driver's manual, you might have come across a page talking about being one car length behind the car in front of you for every 10 miles/hr that you're going. Makes a lot of sense. I never got to this page in the manual--there might actually be, I'm not sure--because I was taught this by my father. Seeing as he's never been in a major car accident and, therefore, isn't dead, I figured there was a reason for his words.
A car length isn't all that much--roughly 15 ft. on average. Which means if you're going 70 miles/hr on a highway, you should be roughly 100 feet behind the car in front of you. Do I follow this rule perfectly all the time? No, I don't. However, I always maintain a semi-safe distance at minimum because here are the major things that could happen if I don't: I die, the person in front of me dies, everyone in the vicinity dies. If I don't die, and other people do die, guess where I am headed other than the hospital? That's right, prison. Accidents can happen to the smartest most careful people in the world, but what's the point of taking the risk?
This is an especially troubling question when it has to do with people getting to work in the morning. I drive down a major highway every morning for work. The speed limit--not that anyone follows those silly things. Ha, limits--is 65 MPH for the majority of the road. Side note: My general rule of thumb is limit plus 10 MPH as an acceptable range. 25 MPH zone? 35, why not? 40 mph? 50.** Generally these limits are put in place for people who are reckless with their driving. People that not only drive fast, but also those that zig zag through high-volume traffic thinking it'll make much of a difference. These thrill seekers generally don't give a shit about anyone around them, or they can handle the consequences of involuntary (arguable) vehicular manslaughter. With that said, and the reason why I have my very own "Plus 10" rule, is because you can go fast and be safe. If you're going 75 MPH in a 65 zone with no one around, the only person you could endanger is yourself by potentially losing control around a bend, but you're not endangering anyone else. These kinds of things are important to think about when you're flying down the road.
So, why am I being a "common" citizen by ranting about traffic?
Well, story time:
People driving in traffic bothers the hell out of everyone. The thing that I learned a year ago, after I got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding heading to work, was why the hell am I speeding to work? I was really speeding, too. I believe it was 78 on a 55. Now, after everything I just said, you're probably like, "Well what happened to YOUR rules, Pat?" Well, that's a really great question: First of all, no one was around me. No one behind me, no one in front of me, no one anywhere until I come around a corner to where a trooper is ready to trap my ass. He got me. He won. It's fine. I learned. Secondly, I used to drive even further to work than I do already. With my company's move in March they went from Limerick to Wayne, which is about a 15-20 minute difference making my trip 50-an hour as opposed to an hour to an hour and 15. The speeding happened less because of reckless driving and more because of reckless sleeping. I was tired behind the wheel and I wanted nothing more than to stop driving so I can take my focus off the road. This is also dangerous, but it's a different topic entirely. I digress...
Today was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I was in the passing lane headed towards Wayne on a major highway going 70 MPH--so 5 MPH over the limit as is. I was roughly 70-80 feet behind the person in front of me. Out of nowhere, a pick-up truck came flying behind me to what looked to be about 10 feet, coulda been less. He decides to fly around me on my right to get in front of me, and then tail the next person as close as humanly possible. Just after that another pick-up truck came behind me even faster! This guy went around me and got just as close behind the first truck. Now, before you get pissed at me for not letting them go, they hardly gave me a chance. They were up my ass so quick, and decided to make the break for it around me that in both instances I didn't even have time to react to them being behind me. What these guys don't know--or cared to think about--was that if anything happens in front of the first car, the car I was originally behind, they'd all potentially just die. And THEN another car, which looked to be some kind of newer hatchback type of car, was maybe 20-30 feet behind me. By this point, we were all entering a high traffic zone, which means there were cars all around us, and it looked like we were all about to stop for volume. This guy blinks his lights at me to say, "Move over," when there is a car directly to my right. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Osmos (no, it's not a verb) into a the person beside me just so you can stop in front of me in 5 seconds?
What. The. Fuck?
Like I said, everyone has their traffic stories, but I feel like there are some people who are really reckless drivers who probably act like the people that are in high-volume traffic are assholes for stopping them from zooming. It's like, "Hey, Buddy? Did you just blow in from Stupid Town?"
/rant
- PatInTheHat
* That would be this guy:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/blog_post_349_width/2013/09/common_glasses_headshot_a_p.jpg
** I don't really feel like looking up people who agree with this standard, but I've seen blog posts and FB posts throughout the years where people make the argument that if people would just go 10 or less MPH over the speed limit--nothing more, but less is fine--the roads would likely be a lot safer. I tend to agree.
I will never, period, ever, period, understand the recklessness of most drivers. There are even insurance companies, who want your money more than anything, that have commercials talking about safe driving. "Make sure you're at least a 3-count behind the driver in front of you to ensure you have ample time to stop blah blah blah."
It's cute, right? I mean, it's basically completely wrong, but it means well.
Before I continue I should mention that I do NOT follow the book to the "T." For anyone out there, who has any idea who I am, I basically don't do a single thing to a "T." "Common" is not my first, middle, or last name.*
For those that ever read a driver's manual, you might have come across a page talking about being one car length behind the car in front of you for every 10 miles/hr that you're going. Makes a lot of sense. I never got to this page in the manual--there might actually be, I'm not sure--because I was taught this by my father. Seeing as he's never been in a major car accident and, therefore, isn't dead, I figured there was a reason for his words.
A car length isn't all that much--roughly 15 ft. on average. Which means if you're going 70 miles/hr on a highway, you should be roughly 100 feet behind the car in front of you. Do I follow this rule perfectly all the time? No, I don't. However, I always maintain a semi-safe distance at minimum because here are the major things that could happen if I don't: I die, the person in front of me dies, everyone in the vicinity dies. If I don't die, and other people do die, guess where I am headed other than the hospital? That's right, prison. Accidents can happen to the smartest most careful people in the world, but what's the point of taking the risk?
This is an especially troubling question when it has to do with people getting to work in the morning. I drive down a major highway every morning for work. The speed limit--not that anyone follows those silly things. Ha, limits--is 65 MPH for the majority of the road. Side note: My general rule of thumb is limit plus 10 MPH as an acceptable range. 25 MPH zone? 35, why not? 40 mph? 50.** Generally these limits are put in place for people who are reckless with their driving. People that not only drive fast, but also those that zig zag through high-volume traffic thinking it'll make much of a difference. These thrill seekers generally don't give a shit about anyone around them, or they can handle the consequences of involuntary (arguable) vehicular manslaughter. With that said, and the reason why I have my very own "Plus 10" rule, is because you can go fast and be safe. If you're going 75 MPH in a 65 zone with no one around, the only person you could endanger is yourself by potentially losing control around a bend, but you're not endangering anyone else. These kinds of things are important to think about when you're flying down the road.
So, why am I being a "common" citizen by ranting about traffic?
Well, story time:
People driving in traffic bothers the hell out of everyone. The thing that I learned a year ago, after I got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding heading to work, was why the hell am I speeding to work? I was really speeding, too. I believe it was 78 on a 55. Now, after everything I just said, you're probably like, "Well what happened to YOUR rules, Pat?" Well, that's a really great question: First of all, no one was around me. No one behind me, no one in front of me, no one anywhere until I come around a corner to where a trooper is ready to trap my ass. He got me. He won. It's fine. I learned. Secondly, I used to drive even further to work than I do already. With my company's move in March they went from Limerick to Wayne, which is about a 15-20 minute difference making my trip 50-an hour as opposed to an hour to an hour and 15. The speeding happened less because of reckless driving and more because of reckless sleeping. I was tired behind the wheel and I wanted nothing more than to stop driving so I can take my focus off the road. This is also dangerous, but it's a different topic entirely. I digress...
Today was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I was in the passing lane headed towards Wayne on a major highway going 70 MPH--so 5 MPH over the limit as is. I was roughly 70-80 feet behind the person in front of me. Out of nowhere, a pick-up truck came flying behind me to what looked to be about 10 feet, coulda been less. He decides to fly around me on my right to get in front of me, and then tail the next person as close as humanly possible. Just after that another pick-up truck came behind me even faster! This guy went around me and got just as close behind the first truck. Now, before you get pissed at me for not letting them go, they hardly gave me a chance. They were up my ass so quick, and decided to make the break for it around me that in both instances I didn't even have time to react to them being behind me. What these guys don't know--or cared to think about--was that if anything happens in front of the first car, the car I was originally behind, they'd all potentially just die. And THEN another car, which looked to be some kind of newer hatchback type of car, was maybe 20-30 feet behind me. By this point, we were all entering a high traffic zone, which means there were cars all around us, and it looked like we were all about to stop for volume. This guy blinks his lights at me to say, "Move over," when there is a car directly to my right. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Osmos (no, it's not a verb) into a the person beside me just so you can stop in front of me in 5 seconds?
What. The. Fuck?
Like I said, everyone has their traffic stories, but I feel like there are some people who are really reckless drivers who probably act like the people that are in high-volume traffic are assholes for stopping them from zooming. It's like, "Hey, Buddy? Did you just blow in from Stupid Town?"
/rant
- PatInTheHat
* That would be this guy:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/blog_post_349_width/2013/09/common_glasses_headshot_a_p.jpg
** I don't really feel like looking up people who agree with this standard, but I've seen blog posts and FB posts throughout the years where people make the argument that if people would just go 10 or less MPH over the speed limit--nothing more, but less is fine--the roads would likely be a lot safer. I tend to agree.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Save the Last Dance
Different cultures are cool. It's hard to measure how cool or not they are until they are experienced, but from my experience different cultures certainly can be.
First off, I'm Irish/Greek, and on the one side of my family--my mother's side--is VERY Greek. The capeesh-said-after-every-sentence kind of Greek. The go-to-the-Greek-Festival-in-downtown-Philly-every-year Greek. I actually just found out that my uncle John runs that event--just to give you an idea of how REALLY Greek they are. Needless to say, I got to learn a LOT about being Greek.
I didn't get to learn too much about Irish culture except in school and on the news. I hate most of the stereotypes associated with the Irish, even if they're mostly true. Ya know, they all know how to drink a lot; they all like Irish potatoes; and if anyone who says they're Irish doesn't like the color green, then they can't actually be Irish. All that nonsense. I hate Irish potatoes. So, suck it. Green's ok, though.
In high school, I learned a lot about Spanish culture, since I decided I wanted my second language to be, of course, Spanish. Every Spanish-speaking country has different customs. Not only that, but Spanish-Spanish and Mexican-Spanish is like the difference between a northern accent and a southern accent in America--hard to discern.
The most fascinating culture I've got to experience in a few different ways is Polish. I dated a girl for a couple years who was Polish, and her family was very Polish. They all practically spoke fluent Polish or had a very thick Polish accent. I learned some of the language--and by "some" I mean "very little"-- but I didn't learn too much about the culture.
That culture shock happened 2 Novembers ago. A friend of mine got together with me at a bar in the city for a few (too many) drinks. At around 11 or 12, he wanted to meet this girl he worked with at her birthday party. It sounded fun to me! What he didn't tell me was that this girl and her family were SUPER Polish. They held her birthday--which I believe was her 21st--at a Polish catering hall.
Alright, so the first thing that came to my mind when I got there was "I can say 'hello,' 'thank you,' and 'you're welcome.' Welp, hope I don't have to say more than that." Luckily, some were also fluent in English. Those people were who I needed to communicate with. I also discovered upon arrival that this shindig wasn't just for one birthday party. No. There were multiple parties going on at once. It was a menagerie of parties!
My friend decided to sit with the girl he came to see and talk at table. There was a part of the place that was basically just a bar, except no one was really attending the bar and the area was quite dim. That is where my friend and his hopes decided to sit, and after about 5 minutes of being really awkward--and since I had enough courage juice from the previous bar to last me another hour or two--I decided to venture into the main party hall. An MC was playing a mixture of modern American tunes mixed with strange Polish music. Just about everyone was dancing. And not the kind of dancing that Americans are used to. No one was grinding. No one was being belligerent. No one was too drunk to function--even myself, which was surprising at that point, to say the least. It was really hard for me to figure out what to do, because everything was just so proper. You don't just walk out on this dance floor and start dancing. No. You have to find a partner. I'm not joking.
My friend's companion saw that I was awkwardly staring out into the hall from the other room and decided to come over to me.
"You should find someone to dance with!" She shouted over the music.
"What? No, I'm just checking things out. This is pretty fascinating!" I retorted.
"No, stop. Look! How about that girl over there? Want to dance with her?"
"Are you serious? Come on, this is silly. No one here even knows who I am. I'm like a party crasher."
"Yeah, I'm serious. Just go over there and ask her! I bet you she obliges."
"*Sigh* fine. Here goes nothin'"
It's a good thing I didn't bet her any money, or I would have lost. The girl I went up to immediately said yes. She grabbed my hands, and we started dancing in this strange circle. She bombarded me with all of these questions in a thick Polish accent of her own about if I was American, if I'm here for someone's party, if I had been drinking--I said no, I was lying, but she knew that. She laughed each answer I gave off. It was weird. Especially after just being in the bro-est bar in the city where life seldom makes a damn bit of sense, this was a complete 180.
We danced a couple more times before my friend and I had to leave. But the whole experience, despite being a bit inebriated, was pretty memorable. The dancing was definitely cool, but the most memorable aspect for me was that there were multiple parties going on, and everyone treated each other as family! For the common non-Polish cultured American, they likely would have thought they entered the Twilight Zone.
Families generally like to be kept to themselves in our culture; however, I feel like we could learn a lot from other cultures where more acceptance and understanding is more prevalent.
Hmm, just food for thought.
- PatInTheHat
First off, I'm Irish/Greek, and on the one side of my family--my mother's side--is VERY Greek. The capeesh-said-after-every-sentence kind of Greek. The go-to-the-Greek-Festival-in-downtown-Philly-every-year Greek. I actually just found out that my uncle John runs that event--just to give you an idea of how REALLY Greek they are. Needless to say, I got to learn a LOT about being Greek.
I didn't get to learn too much about Irish culture except in school and on the news. I hate most of the stereotypes associated with the Irish, even if they're mostly true. Ya know, they all know how to drink a lot; they all like Irish potatoes; and if anyone who says they're Irish doesn't like the color green, then they can't actually be Irish. All that nonsense. I hate Irish potatoes. So, suck it. Green's ok, though.
In high school, I learned a lot about Spanish culture, since I decided I wanted my second language to be, of course, Spanish. Every Spanish-speaking country has different customs. Not only that, but Spanish-Spanish and Mexican-Spanish is like the difference between a northern accent and a southern accent in America--hard to discern.
The most fascinating culture I've got to experience in a few different ways is Polish. I dated a girl for a couple years who was Polish, and her family was very Polish. They all practically spoke fluent Polish or had a very thick Polish accent. I learned some of the language--and by "some" I mean "very little"-- but I didn't learn too much about the culture.
That culture shock happened 2 Novembers ago. A friend of mine got together with me at a bar in the city for a few (too many) drinks. At around 11 or 12, he wanted to meet this girl he worked with at her birthday party. It sounded fun to me! What he didn't tell me was that this girl and her family were SUPER Polish. They held her birthday--which I believe was her 21st--at a Polish catering hall.
Alright, so the first thing that came to my mind when I got there was "I can say 'hello,' 'thank you,' and 'you're welcome.' Welp, hope I don't have to say more than that." Luckily, some were also fluent in English. Those people were who I needed to communicate with. I also discovered upon arrival that this shindig wasn't just for one birthday party. No. There were multiple parties going on at once. It was a menagerie of parties!
My friend decided to sit with the girl he came to see and talk at table. There was a part of the place that was basically just a bar, except no one was really attending the bar and the area was quite dim. That is where my friend and his hopes decided to sit, and after about 5 minutes of being really awkward--and since I had enough courage juice from the previous bar to last me another hour or two--I decided to venture into the main party hall. An MC was playing a mixture of modern American tunes mixed with strange Polish music. Just about everyone was dancing. And not the kind of dancing that Americans are used to. No one was grinding. No one was being belligerent. No one was too drunk to function--even myself, which was surprising at that point, to say the least. It was really hard for me to figure out what to do, because everything was just so proper. You don't just walk out on this dance floor and start dancing. No. You have to find a partner. I'm not joking.
My friend's companion saw that I was awkwardly staring out into the hall from the other room and decided to come over to me.
"You should find someone to dance with!" She shouted over the music.
"What? No, I'm just checking things out. This is pretty fascinating!" I retorted.
"No, stop. Look! How about that girl over there? Want to dance with her?"
"Are you serious? Come on, this is silly. No one here even knows who I am. I'm like a party crasher."
"Yeah, I'm serious. Just go over there and ask her! I bet you she obliges."
"*Sigh* fine. Here goes nothin'"
It's a good thing I didn't bet her any money, or I would have lost. The girl I went up to immediately said yes. She grabbed my hands, and we started dancing in this strange circle. She bombarded me with all of these questions in a thick Polish accent of her own about if I was American, if I'm here for someone's party, if I had been drinking--I said no, I was lying, but she knew that. She laughed each answer I gave off. It was weird. Especially after just being in the bro-est bar in the city where life seldom makes a damn bit of sense, this was a complete 180.
We danced a couple more times before my friend and I had to leave. But the whole experience, despite being a bit inebriated, was pretty memorable. The dancing was definitely cool, but the most memorable aspect for me was that there were multiple parties going on, and everyone treated each other as family! For the common non-Polish cultured American, they likely would have thought they entered the Twilight Zone.
Families generally like to be kept to themselves in our culture; however, I feel like we could learn a lot from other cultures where more acceptance and understanding is more prevalent.
Hmm, just food for thought.
- PatInTheHat
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Black Heads
I almost forgot. It would have been nice to forget just a little while longer, but social media tends to do that thing--the reminding thing--just in case forgetting happens.
Lent is upon us.
First, in case anyone for some reason has no idea what Lent is, let me explain.
Lent is a religious observance by many denominations of Christianity in which a person part of the faith is pushed to fast for 40 straight days to commemorate that time our Lord and savior Cthulu died on a Friday and rose from the dead on a (Easter) Sunday. He died a giant squid and came back as a human...or something like that--wait, that might be Budhism. Honestly, I forget anymore.
Oh, and the best way to start this process? Rub some burnt tree on your face. The only way.
When I was a wee lad, I was raised as a Catholic--a denomination of Christianity that partakes in this religious observance. So, every Lenten season my grade school would take us to the church around the corner on "Ash Wednesday" to put burnt tree on our face. Everyone basically hated it. The adults pretended not to hate it, and the kids didn't even understand why it was happening so, of course, they hated it, too. Oh, and never (purposely) wipe off the ashes at any point during the day. That's like 10 years of black cats or something. Was it black cats, or did I just make that up? Ah, whatever. It's religion, anyway: Where everything's made up, and the facts don't matter.
Hopefully, before you rub burnt stuff on your face, you also make sure to think of something to quit for those 40 days--as if eating small wasn't enough torture. I always played this game smart when I was younger. "I'll just quit something I don't really like or have that much of anyway: like chocolate!"
Telling someone you gave up chocolate for Lent was a big deal, though! They'd respond like, "Woah, you did not just...no way...HEY EVERYONE! PAT GAVE UP CHOCOLATE!" And then they'd pick me up in a sea of people--like after the game winning/World Series winning pitch by a starter--and praise me. Sometimes I would last the whole Lenten season without chocolate. Other times I'd forget Lent existed.
Later in my life I stopped celebrating (I'd argue it's far from a celebration, but I digress...). Soon, I'd practically forget that it was a thing. I mean, as with all religions, do I understand the meaning and the acknowledgment behind the observance for people who practice? Yes. However, I'm a skeptic. There are some things--like starving yourselves and giving things up (most of which people hardly do anyway)--that don't sound like "God" to me. That's why everyone is doing these things, in case that wasn't clear.
This isn't my idea of God, anyway. Hmm, maybe I should write about "my idea of God."
I think I'll call it, "El Biblay: Partie Deux." And then in 2000 or so years people will get REALLY wealthy off of my "teachings." Not to mention tax breaks.
Yeah. *nods* Tax breaks.
- PatInTheMitre
Update: A co-worker of mine went to get their ashes at lunch time. They returned to tell me that a priest told her that he felt that if more people wore ashes all year round there would be less road rage.
Yeah.
Right.
Lent is upon us.
First, in case anyone for some reason has no idea what Lent is, let me explain.
Lent is a religious observance by many denominations of Christianity in which a person part of the faith is pushed to fast for 40 straight days to commemorate that time our Lord and savior Cthulu died on a Friday and rose from the dead on a (Easter) Sunday. He died a giant squid and came back as a human...or something like that--wait, that might be Budhism. Honestly, I forget anymore.
Oh, and the best way to start this process? Rub some burnt tree on your face. The only way.
When I was a wee lad, I was raised as a Catholic--a denomination of Christianity that partakes in this religious observance. So, every Lenten season my grade school would take us to the church around the corner on "Ash Wednesday" to put burnt tree on our face. Everyone basically hated it. The adults pretended not to hate it, and the kids didn't even understand why it was happening so, of course, they hated it, too. Oh, and never (purposely) wipe off the ashes at any point during the day. That's like 10 years of black cats or something. Was it black cats, or did I just make that up? Ah, whatever. It's religion, anyway: Where everything's made up, and the facts don't matter.
Hopefully, before you rub burnt stuff on your face, you also make sure to think of something to quit for those 40 days--as if eating small wasn't enough torture. I always played this game smart when I was younger. "I'll just quit something I don't really like or have that much of anyway: like chocolate!"
Telling someone you gave up chocolate for Lent was a big deal, though! They'd respond like, "Woah, you did not just...no way...HEY EVERYONE! PAT GAVE UP CHOCOLATE!" And then they'd pick me up in a sea of people--like after the game winning/World Series winning pitch by a starter--and praise me. Sometimes I would last the whole Lenten season without chocolate. Other times I'd forget Lent existed.
Later in my life I stopped celebrating (I'd argue it's far from a celebration, but I digress...). Soon, I'd practically forget that it was a thing. I mean, as with all religions, do I understand the meaning and the acknowledgment behind the observance for people who practice? Yes. However, I'm a skeptic. There are some things--like starving yourselves and giving things up (most of which people hardly do anyway)--that don't sound like "God" to me. That's why everyone is doing these things, in case that wasn't clear.
This isn't my idea of God, anyway. Hmm, maybe I should write about "my idea of God."
I think I'll call it, "El Biblay: Partie Deux." And then in 2000 or so years people will get REALLY wealthy off of my "teachings." Not to mention tax breaks.
Yeah. *nods* Tax breaks.
- PatInTheMitre
Update: A co-worker of mine went to get their ashes at lunch time. They returned to tell me that a priest told her that he felt that if more people wore ashes all year round there would be less road rage.
Yeah.
Right.
Friday, February 13, 2015
Rose Bush
Ya know those movies--like romance films--where the writers and producers create the image of a *perfect* girl or a *perfect* guy? I'm sure we all know those movies by now. A movie of that form comes out practically each month.
The bad news is, is that before, when those movies were first being played on the Silver Screen, people really believed that the characters in the film were real--out there somewhere. For a long time, it created unrealistic expectations. I'm not saying I have the data or researched numbers behind this next assumption, but: It wouldn't surprise me if the spike in divorces over the last 20-30 years could have had to do, in part, to films creating the facade of a perfect person.
The good news, on the other hand, is that today more people are realizing that these films ARE hypnotic facades. Luckily, we, as a culture, have been able to snap ourselves out of it. (And it just so happens that the divorce rate isn't increasing anymore--coincidence?). As an aside: In a post I created a month or so ago, relationships are hard work, but sometimes people don't like to believe that work is needed for a relationship to work to its full potential. I digress...
There are also some movies and commercials that create different facades. One specific example is why I'm creating this article: The perfect intern.
You know what I'm talking about: The guy that runs down the opposite direction of an airport's moving walk-way in order to give coffee to his boss and others. The guy that is basically, and on most occasions, the corporate unpaid bitch. Executives everywhere who see commercials or movies like this take a big awhing sigh and think to themselves, "Yeah, that's the intern for me!" Isn't that just a fairy-tale!? Oh, to have slaves again...
There are movies like The Devil Wears Prada, where an assistant is basically a god-send of a human being. The assistant, played by Anne Hathaway, wants to rip her hair out during each scene of the movie, because her tasks from her boss, played by the incomparable Meryl Streep, get more and more ludicrous. Now, Anne Hathaway's character is NOT an intern, but she's basically Meryl Streep's corporate bitch. Throughout the movie I'm thinking to myself, "That poor poor human being." She mentions once or twice throughout the movie that she's definitely not getting paid enough to do the job she was hired to do. You never know what she's actually getting paid, but you could probably believe her by the tasks she's doing along with the stress of a boss whom doesn't even know what "extrinsic reward" means. In other words, Hathaway's character never received any gratitude (until the very near-end of the film).
With all this said, everyone, from top to bottom, has a hand in creating crazy cultures like this. For one, if the economy is so bad that it's hard to get a job from anywhere, then the crazier a boss can be to you, because you need that job so bad to put food and water on the table. Bosses everywhere know this. It's the "You need me more than I need you," mentality that has gradually grown and perpetuated over the years.
I would even argue that unpaid interns are a part of this cultural issue. How? Because they do the job anyway. Our culture basically says that a degree is useless anymore. If you don't have experience, then you can't get a job. There are those memes on social media that go around now and then that satarize this logic, "Can't get a job unless you have experience; can't have experience unless you get a job." It's hysterical when you read it, because it's so true. In this instance, you likely realize how absurd life is, but the added irony is that you, and everyone else, fuel that fire. It's exhausting.
It's tough to be in a position of power when we're just getting out of school (college, grad school, etc.), but I don't see why not? After all, the companies can only make money if they have enough workers to do the job they need done. Some companies have such an up-stuck culture that they think, "Oh, *everyone* wants to work here, so there's nothing you can say that will make me think I need you more than the shmuck who will do the same job for less."
Along those same lines, I've noticed a considerable increase in employee hours over the years. Remember when full-time was 35-40 hour work weeks? Nowadays, if you work 40 hours for a business, they will likely think about firing you. "Hey Bill, I notice that your car was only in the parking lot until 5pm, care to explain?"
"Uh, yeah, I worked 8 hours and I have a wife and kids."
"Wife and kids, eh? I don't think that's as important as this job you have. How about you stay till 6 or 7 for the next couple weeks, yeah? I don't think we're sucking away enough of your soul, yet. Oh, and uhh, start coming in at 8am, too."
"I already come in at 8."
"Oh, but you probably take an hour lunch, right? Thanks for reminding me. Start coming in at 7a. In fact, how about just bring a sleeping bag, and catch some zees here for a while."
Another one of my extreme examples at the end, there, but the point is, if enough people let corporations push them around like this, then this is what happens. Businesses tend to equate time to turnover. That's obviously bullshit for anyone who cares about that sort of thing. Corporations, like the New England Patriots, will manipulate the rules until a rule or law is put in place that makes sure businesses don't treat employees like shit. They also know that legislation for these kinds of things takes awhile even after someone whistleblows, so it's a risk they're happy to take.
Just the other day, Philadelphia put forth legislation that requires companies to give their employees a full work week (5 days) of sick leave. This is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. People keep commenting from Europe like, "Uhhh, what's the big deal? We get 2 months as soon as we get a job." Yes, Europe, that's because the US prides itself in being as antiquated as humanly possible. We're also not a country that really cares about our employees too much. If about 50% of the country is Republican and 50% of the country is Democrat, then about 50% of the country thinks that the wealthy can treat people however they want in order to make the most money for themselves.
There are businesses, however, that are trying really hard to break this trend. CostCo is one of the leaders in their bulk-market industry. Instead of treating their employees like shit--kinda like Walmart--they compensate them all very well. From the managers down to the baggers just about every single person in the company is happy with their position because of their wages and their benefits. This generally makes for a better work environment, because happy employees do better work, and at the end of the day they feel fulfilled instead of used inadequately.
This post is NOT to say, "Let's take down the man, man!" No. What I *am* saying is that if we all do our part to change the cultural perception of what it means to be important AND respected, then some of the current issues, even economic ones, might begin to go away.
Think about it.
- PatInTheHat
The bad news is, is that before, when those movies were first being played on the Silver Screen, people really believed that the characters in the film were real--out there somewhere. For a long time, it created unrealistic expectations. I'm not saying I have the data or researched numbers behind this next assumption, but: It wouldn't surprise me if the spike in divorces over the last 20-30 years could have had to do, in part, to films creating the facade of a perfect person.
The good news, on the other hand, is that today more people are realizing that these films ARE hypnotic facades. Luckily, we, as a culture, have been able to snap ourselves out of it. (And it just so happens that the divorce rate isn't increasing anymore--coincidence?). As an aside: In a post I created a month or so ago, relationships are hard work, but sometimes people don't like to believe that work is needed for a relationship to work to its full potential. I digress...
There are also some movies and commercials that create different facades. One specific example is why I'm creating this article: The perfect intern.
You know what I'm talking about: The guy that runs down the opposite direction of an airport's moving walk-way in order to give coffee to his boss and others. The guy that is basically, and on most occasions, the corporate unpaid bitch. Executives everywhere who see commercials or movies like this take a big awhing sigh and think to themselves, "Yeah, that's the intern for me!" Isn't that just a fairy-tale!? Oh, to have slaves again...
There are movies like The Devil Wears Prada, where an assistant is basically a god-send of a human being. The assistant, played by Anne Hathaway, wants to rip her hair out during each scene of the movie, because her tasks from her boss, played by the incomparable Meryl Streep, get more and more ludicrous. Now, Anne Hathaway's character is NOT an intern, but she's basically Meryl Streep's corporate bitch. Throughout the movie I'm thinking to myself, "That poor poor human being." She mentions once or twice throughout the movie that she's definitely not getting paid enough to do the job she was hired to do. You never know what she's actually getting paid, but you could probably believe her by the tasks she's doing along with the stress of a boss whom doesn't even know what "extrinsic reward" means. In other words, Hathaway's character never received any gratitude (until the very near-end of the film).
With all this said, everyone, from top to bottom, has a hand in creating crazy cultures like this. For one, if the economy is so bad that it's hard to get a job from anywhere, then the crazier a boss can be to you, because you need that job so bad to put food and water on the table. Bosses everywhere know this. It's the "You need me more than I need you," mentality that has gradually grown and perpetuated over the years.
I would even argue that unpaid interns are a part of this cultural issue. How? Because they do the job anyway. Our culture basically says that a degree is useless anymore. If you don't have experience, then you can't get a job. There are those memes on social media that go around now and then that satarize this logic, "Can't get a job unless you have experience; can't have experience unless you get a job." It's hysterical when you read it, because it's so true. In this instance, you likely realize how absurd life is, but the added irony is that you, and everyone else, fuel that fire. It's exhausting.
It's tough to be in a position of power when we're just getting out of school (college, grad school, etc.), but I don't see why not? After all, the companies can only make money if they have enough workers to do the job they need done. Some companies have such an up-stuck culture that they think, "Oh, *everyone* wants to work here, so there's nothing you can say that will make me think I need you more than the shmuck who will do the same job for less."
Along those same lines, I've noticed a considerable increase in employee hours over the years. Remember when full-time was 35-40 hour work weeks? Nowadays, if you work 40 hours for a business, they will likely think about firing you. "Hey Bill, I notice that your car was only in the parking lot until 5pm, care to explain?"
"Uh, yeah, I worked 8 hours and I have a wife and kids."
"Wife and kids, eh? I don't think that's as important as this job you have. How about you stay till 6 or 7 for the next couple weeks, yeah? I don't think we're sucking away enough of your soul, yet. Oh, and uhh, start coming in at 8am, too."
"I already come in at 8."
"Oh, but you probably take an hour lunch, right? Thanks for reminding me. Start coming in at 7a. In fact, how about just bring a sleeping bag, and catch some zees here for a while."
Another one of my extreme examples at the end, there, but the point is, if enough people let corporations push them around like this, then this is what happens. Businesses tend to equate time to turnover. That's obviously bullshit for anyone who cares about that sort of thing. Corporations, like the New England Patriots, will manipulate the rules until a rule or law is put in place that makes sure businesses don't treat employees like shit. They also know that legislation for these kinds of things takes awhile even after someone whistleblows, so it's a risk they're happy to take.
Just the other day, Philadelphia put forth legislation that requires companies to give their employees a full work week (5 days) of sick leave. This is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. People keep commenting from Europe like, "Uhhh, what's the big deal? We get 2 months as soon as we get a job." Yes, Europe, that's because the US prides itself in being as antiquated as humanly possible. We're also not a country that really cares about our employees too much. If about 50% of the country is Republican and 50% of the country is Democrat, then about 50% of the country thinks that the wealthy can treat people however they want in order to make the most money for themselves.
There are businesses, however, that are trying really hard to break this trend. CostCo is one of the leaders in their bulk-market industry. Instead of treating their employees like shit--kinda like Walmart--they compensate them all very well. From the managers down to the baggers just about every single person in the company is happy with their position because of their wages and their benefits. This generally makes for a better work environment, because happy employees do better work, and at the end of the day they feel fulfilled instead of used inadequately.
This post is NOT to say, "Let's take down the man, man!" No. What I *am* saying is that if we all do our part to change the cultural perception of what it means to be important AND respected, then some of the current issues, even economic ones, might begin to go away.
Think about it.
- PatInTheHat
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
The Right Time
Today is today.
It's an obvious statement no matter what day of the week, month, or year you read that statement, but each day you define "today" differently. For humans that make actions even slightly different than the day before, that statement is about as obvious as the first.
The thing is we take for granted how important most of our "todays" are. For instance: Today might be for having fun. Today might be for healing. Today might be for working--and I'm sure that's most of you. Today might even be for relaxing. All of those things are relatively easy, because they are basically part of (modern) human habit.
Some "todays," however, call for more important decisions. These are different for everyone. In our daily struggle, we decide on one of three options: 1. Do it. 2. Don't do it. 3. Do something else.
These important decisions/events generally create a ripple-effect in your life. The analytic part of you assesses the consequences--good and bad--that may come from the decision you decided to make for that day. After making that decision you further assess whether you made the right call at the end of the day. These decisions generally have to do with people i.e. not just yourself; not just whether you should have gotten apples instead of oranges at the grocery store. When these decisions have to do with people, it's hard to fix a decision if you assess at the end of the day that the original decision you made was wrong. If it nags at you long enough that you made the wrong decision, then you're probably right. The decision you made is basically making you upset. Not just a "normal" upset, but, rather, one that you don't feel like you can live with. If that's the case, and you can act quick enough and sincere enough, then maybe you can reverse the original decision. Unfortunately, by that point, it's no longer just up to you. It is then up to you and whoever it is you might have faulted.
At that point, you hope they let you back in. You hope they give you another shot. You hope they assess that the decision you made was a mistake, because you know if they don't then you might have lost a great opportunity.
It might even be hard to live with yourself for a while, but one thing is for sure: You'll grow from it. You'll get emotionally stronger, and you'll get better at making analytic decisions that will definitely make you happy instead of ones that simply "might" make you happy.
Life is fickle and fleeting--again, obvious for those that are mortal--which is why each decision needs thought. Every decision has risk factors, but I'd like to believe situational analysis is used to mitigate risk, right?
Maybe not today.
- PatInTheHat
It's an obvious statement no matter what day of the week, month, or year you read that statement, but each day you define "today" differently. For humans that make actions even slightly different than the day before, that statement is about as obvious as the first.
The thing is we take for granted how important most of our "todays" are. For instance: Today might be for having fun. Today might be for healing. Today might be for working--and I'm sure that's most of you. Today might even be for relaxing. All of those things are relatively easy, because they are basically part of (modern) human habit.
Some "todays," however, call for more important decisions. These are different for everyone. In our daily struggle, we decide on one of three options: 1. Do it. 2. Don't do it. 3. Do something else.
These important decisions/events generally create a ripple-effect in your life. The analytic part of you assesses the consequences--good and bad--that may come from the decision you decided to make for that day. After making that decision you further assess whether you made the right call at the end of the day. These decisions generally have to do with people i.e. not just yourself; not just whether you should have gotten apples instead of oranges at the grocery store. When these decisions have to do with people, it's hard to fix a decision if you assess at the end of the day that the original decision you made was wrong. If it nags at you long enough that you made the wrong decision, then you're probably right. The decision you made is basically making you upset. Not just a "normal" upset, but, rather, one that you don't feel like you can live with. If that's the case, and you can act quick enough and sincere enough, then maybe you can reverse the original decision. Unfortunately, by that point, it's no longer just up to you. It is then up to you and whoever it is you might have faulted.
At that point, you hope they let you back in. You hope they give you another shot. You hope they assess that the decision you made was a mistake, because you know if they don't then you might have lost a great opportunity.
It might even be hard to live with yourself for a while, but one thing is for sure: You'll grow from it. You'll get emotionally stronger, and you'll get better at making analytic decisions that will definitely make you happy instead of ones that simply "might" make you happy.
Life is fickle and fleeting--again, obvious for those that are mortal--which is why each decision needs thought. Every decision has risk factors, but I'd like to believe situational analysis is used to mitigate risk, right?
Maybe not today.
- PatInTheHat
Monday, February 9, 2015
Patrick Grey
It's tough being me.
I get up early. Make sure to look as good as possible--the easiest part. Eat breakfast. Go to work.
It's safe to say that I'm the guy that most people look up to. At 6 feet 1 inch tall it's a scientific fact that most people don't have much of a choice.
I'm twenty-three years old. I go to work looking like a million bucks, because that's what I'm worth to me. I dress in a dark blue button down shirt with no tie and black pants. I wear black penny loafers. I do not wear a tie with my shirt. When someone looks this good, who would? Over the cold months, I make sure to wear a Robin's egg blue cardigan. Naturally, it fits my body perfectly. And all the ladies know it.
I am the lead international tax intern for a medical supplies company. I have my very own cubical with my very own computer and my very own double-desktop monitors. I have my very own assistant who delivers mail each morning. Sometimes I do not have mail. I supervise approximately no one. The importance of my position is shown by how far away I sit from anyone else in my department. I cannot be disturbed. I hold down the fort. Daily responsibilities include: stapling papers together, copying papers upon diligent and precise request from others--if they do not use the company email system, then the request does not count--and, most importantly, thumb-twiddling. I am an Olympic thumb-twiddler--my record is 1,000 twiddles in 10 seconds. No one at the office knows of my talents.
Makes sense. I'm unpredictable and mysterious.
It is starting to get close to that time of year--tax season. The time of the year when thumb-twiddling is at a minimum and paper stapling at a premium. It's hard to do these tasks alone. The company is looking for other interns. Needless to say, I am (not) the deciding factor in the hiring process. I'm always the first to screen potential hirees. I am briefed that this year, our first candidate is Hannah, who I saw briefly in the lobby and is a slender brunette female draped in a black dress and red see-through stockings that can only be visible from the knee down. Approximate age: 21
I await her arrival in a small board room with a fifteen-foot-long wooden table and six wooden chairs, and then she enters. She looks at me. I look back with a small, confident smile as my eyes peer into the windows of her soul.
"Hi, I'm Hannah," she says nervously, as she takes out her credentials that are neatly stowed away inside a neat, leather, and (un)zippable folder. With shaky hands, she delivers in front of me her resume.
"Pat. Pleased to meet you."
"Interesting," I say half-apathetically, half-empathetically, half-somethingelse-ically.
"What's that?" she asks with sincere curiosity.
"You went to college," I sarcastically retort as I sip french vanilla coffee from my "Medical Supplies" mug with an eye-brow raised accompanied by the same smile when her sexy eyes first met my sexier eyes.
"Is that good?"
"Absolutely."
"Do you think I qualify?"
"Oh, I thought you were talking about the coffee." Silence descends upon the the board room. I stare, waiting for her to say something else.
"Uhh, I was talking about my re..."
"...Let's go on a date." I casually cut her off. It was clear from the beginning that this interview was hardly an interview any longer. It was a mating dance. In my mind, we already started the tango under an incandescent moonlight in the Bahamas. Warm air, clear skies, and piña coladas.
She's awe-struck. With mouth agape, she looks for the right words to sprinkle out of her mouth like pixie dust.
Abruptly, she stands and slaps me in the face.
"Absolutely not!" She exclaims emphatically. She then takes a pen, rips out a piece of loose-leaf from her leather folder, and while writing on paper recites aloud, "You. Are. An. Asshole." She crumples the paper, throws it directly at my face, and starts to leave the room. As she opens the door, she turns to face me. The previously shown angst on her face dissolves to a coy smirk.
Inquisitively, I pick up the crumpled piece of paper that landed on the board room table. I uncrumple the paper to find that her vocal message was not the same as her written one--it was her number with "Call me" underneathe.
"Haha," I laugh to myself, "And the dance continues."
_____________________________________
I was promptly fired from my position.
After being questioned by my superiors as to why Hannah left before anyone else could interview her, I cited that she didn't feel qualified for the position. Clear video evidence obtained by my boss from a camcorder just above the entryway of the board room showed what really happened during my interview with Hannah. Needless to say, she looked great from that angle.
I was happy to get that date with Hannah. But, with that said, does anyone know of any job openings? I still have yet to pay off my work clothes, student debt, shoes, car...
- PatInTheGreyHat
I get up early. Make sure to look as good as possible--the easiest part. Eat breakfast. Go to work.
It's safe to say that I'm the guy that most people look up to. At 6 feet 1 inch tall it's a scientific fact that most people don't have much of a choice.
I'm twenty-three years old. I go to work looking like a million bucks, because that's what I'm worth to me. I dress in a dark blue button down shirt with no tie and black pants. I wear black penny loafers. I do not wear a tie with my shirt. When someone looks this good, who would? Over the cold months, I make sure to wear a Robin's egg blue cardigan. Naturally, it fits my body perfectly. And all the ladies know it.
I am the lead international tax intern for a medical supplies company. I have my very own cubical with my very own computer and my very own double-desktop monitors. I have my very own assistant who delivers mail each morning. Sometimes I do not have mail. I supervise approximately no one. The importance of my position is shown by how far away I sit from anyone else in my department. I cannot be disturbed. I hold down the fort. Daily responsibilities include: stapling papers together, copying papers upon diligent and precise request from others--if they do not use the company email system, then the request does not count--and, most importantly, thumb-twiddling. I am an Olympic thumb-twiddler--my record is 1,000 twiddles in 10 seconds. No one at the office knows of my talents.
Makes sense. I'm unpredictable and mysterious.
It is starting to get close to that time of year--tax season. The time of the year when thumb-twiddling is at a minimum and paper stapling at a premium. It's hard to do these tasks alone. The company is looking for other interns. Needless to say, I am (not) the deciding factor in the hiring process. I'm always the first to screen potential hirees. I am briefed that this year, our first candidate is Hannah, who I saw briefly in the lobby and is a slender brunette female draped in a black dress and red see-through stockings that can only be visible from the knee down. Approximate age: 21
I await her arrival in a small board room with a fifteen-foot-long wooden table and six wooden chairs, and then she enters. She looks at me. I look back with a small, confident smile as my eyes peer into the windows of her soul.
"Hi, I'm Hannah," she says nervously, as she takes out her credentials that are neatly stowed away inside a neat, leather, and (un)zippable folder. With shaky hands, she delivers in front of me her resume.
"Pat. Pleased to meet you."
"Interesting," I say half-apathetically, half-empathetically, half-somethingelse-ically.
"What's that?" she asks with sincere curiosity.
"You went to college," I sarcastically retort as I sip french vanilla coffee from my "Medical Supplies" mug with an eye-brow raised accompanied by the same smile when her sexy eyes first met my sexier eyes.
"Is that good?"
"Absolutely."
"Do you think I qualify?"
"Oh, I thought you were talking about the coffee." Silence descends upon the the board room. I stare, waiting for her to say something else.
"Uhh, I was talking about my re..."
"...Let's go on a date." I casually cut her off. It was clear from the beginning that this interview was hardly an interview any longer. It was a mating dance. In my mind, we already started the tango under an incandescent moonlight in the Bahamas. Warm air, clear skies, and piña coladas.
She's awe-struck. With mouth agape, she looks for the right words to sprinkle out of her mouth like pixie dust.
Abruptly, she stands and slaps me in the face.
"Absolutely not!" She exclaims emphatically. She then takes a pen, rips out a piece of loose-leaf from her leather folder, and while writing on paper recites aloud, "You. Are. An. Asshole." She crumples the paper, throws it directly at my face, and starts to leave the room. As she opens the door, she turns to face me. The previously shown angst on her face dissolves to a coy smirk.
Inquisitively, I pick up the crumpled piece of paper that landed on the board room table. I uncrumple the paper to find that her vocal message was not the same as her written one--it was her number with "Call me" underneathe.
"Haha," I laugh to myself, "And the dance continues."
_____________________________________
I was promptly fired from my position.
After being questioned by my superiors as to why Hannah left before anyone else could interview her, I cited that she didn't feel qualified for the position. Clear video evidence obtained by my boss from a camcorder just above the entryway of the board room showed what really happened during my interview with Hannah. Needless to say, she looked great from that angle.
I was happy to get that date with Hannah. But, with that said, does anyone know of any job openings? I still have yet to pay off my work clothes, student debt, shoes, car...
- PatInTheGreyHat
Friday, February 6, 2015
Ivy Dweeb
When I was in high school--even in college--Ivy League schools were spoken in such high regard. It was a high schooler's goal to just get into an Ivy League school. In college, I specifically had a professor, who also taught at U-Penn, whom made sure to keep us jealous of not being in an Ivy League school. "Once you leave this school and start sending resumes to companies, who do think the company is going to pick to interview? A Holy Family grad with ANY GPA, or an Ivy League grad?" The answer was always "Ivy League" grad. If you're unfamiliar with what being accepted into an Ivy League school is like for the rest of life, just ask an alumni. If you can't find an alumni, there are plenty of teachers for these respective schools that would gladly (mis)inform you.
The mystique of a student that makes it into an Ivy League school is slowly dwindling. The fault stems from a poor and well-known Ivy system--thanks to Ivy League alumni that tell the world--that once a student makes it into most Ivy League schools getting an A is as easy as blowing your own nose: Show up to class; do some semblance of work; A. Personally, I've known about this for about the last 5 years, and the first time I learned about it, I didn't even care. I didn't care, because I knew how brilliant/special/etc. someone had to be in order to get into those schools. Their reputation, for me, basically called for immediate respect. That would soon change...
Ivy Leaguers are NOT infallible. This is contrary to many non-Ivy beliefs. Some Ivys get in because they're phenomenal at sports--hence the term Ivy League, by the way. It started with sports before the vernacular changed to describe each of the schools associated. Some Ivy's get in because their parents are super wealthy (See: George Dubya Bush). And then comes the kids who actually deserve to go to an Ivy League school--the brilliant ones. The ones that can make a molecular phaser with their toes and their eyes closed. The ones that can do Rubix Cube in like 5 seconds--I know, I know, it's an algorithm, it's an algorithm, shhh.
So, all of that said, here in lies the problem: Graduating Ivy Leaguers are starting to be known for their uselessness. Yep, you heard that right. Some of these students are actually just as normal as you and me. They get jobs--ya know, the jobs that they took from you because you went to a "shitty" undergrad--and they suck at them. They are irresponsible, and don't know how to pull their own load without needing a mommy figure to help pay...err....do/check their work.
Why does this happen? great question.
I don't know the exact answer, but with the evidence I gave you earlier, my best guess is that getting easy A's for 4 years completely screwed up their work ethic. For some of them, it even short-circuited their Type-A personality. One person in my MAC program at Villanova--not an Ivy League--dropped out of the program because she wasn't used to getting 70s on tests and quizzes. She received A's on exams at her Ivy League alma matter so frequently, perhaps always, that she couldn't handle getting grades that didn't LOOK good. And I say that because the best kids in the class were getting 70s, which means she actually would have gotten those A's if she was just able to stick with it. Unfortunately, her Ivy League didn't teach her a very valuable lesson that every young person needs to learn: How to handle adversity.
Ultimately, Ivy League schools need to fix this if they expect to keep the reputation they have. And corporations need to stop giving jobs to Ivy Leaguers just because they are Ivy Leaguers. That's exactly how this country can perpetuate mediocrity--when we give our smartest the best opportunity and squander their chances of learning valuable lessons. If these schools manufacture workless workers and quitters, then soon enough Holy Family grads will, and deservedly so in a lot of cases, take the jobs that are rightfully their's because they earned their positions.
As an aside: I'm not discriminating against anyone else's non-Ivy alma matter, you're in the exact same boat. Just using HF, because of my experience specifically.
What do you guys think?
- PatInTheGradHat
The mystique of a student that makes it into an Ivy League school is slowly dwindling. The fault stems from a poor and well-known Ivy system--thanks to Ivy League alumni that tell the world--that once a student makes it into most Ivy League schools getting an A is as easy as blowing your own nose: Show up to class; do some semblance of work; A. Personally, I've known about this for about the last 5 years, and the first time I learned about it, I didn't even care. I didn't care, because I knew how brilliant/special/etc. someone had to be in order to get into those schools. Their reputation, for me, basically called for immediate respect. That would soon change...
Ivy Leaguers are NOT infallible. This is contrary to many non-Ivy beliefs. Some Ivys get in because they're phenomenal at sports--hence the term Ivy League, by the way. It started with sports before the vernacular changed to describe each of the schools associated. Some Ivy's get in because their parents are super wealthy (See: George Dubya Bush). And then comes the kids who actually deserve to go to an Ivy League school--the brilliant ones. The ones that can make a molecular phaser with their toes and their eyes closed. The ones that can do Rubix Cube in like 5 seconds--I know, I know, it's an algorithm, it's an algorithm, shhh.
So, all of that said, here in lies the problem: Graduating Ivy Leaguers are starting to be known for their uselessness. Yep, you heard that right. Some of these students are actually just as normal as you and me. They get jobs--ya know, the jobs that they took from you because you went to a "shitty" undergrad--and they suck at them. They are irresponsible, and don't know how to pull their own load without needing a mommy figure to help pay...err....do/check their work.
Why does this happen? great question.
I don't know the exact answer, but with the evidence I gave you earlier, my best guess is that getting easy A's for 4 years completely screwed up their work ethic. For some of them, it even short-circuited their Type-A personality. One person in my MAC program at Villanova--not an Ivy League--dropped out of the program because she wasn't used to getting 70s on tests and quizzes. She received A's on exams at her Ivy League alma matter so frequently, perhaps always, that she couldn't handle getting grades that didn't LOOK good. And I say that because the best kids in the class were getting 70s, which means she actually would have gotten those A's if she was just able to stick with it. Unfortunately, her Ivy League didn't teach her a very valuable lesson that every young person needs to learn: How to handle adversity.
Ultimately, Ivy League schools need to fix this if they expect to keep the reputation they have. And corporations need to stop giving jobs to Ivy Leaguers just because they are Ivy Leaguers. That's exactly how this country can perpetuate mediocrity--when we give our smartest the best opportunity and squander their chances of learning valuable lessons. If these schools manufacture workless workers and quitters, then soon enough Holy Family grads will, and deservedly so in a lot of cases, take the jobs that are rightfully their's because they earned their positions.
As an aside: I'm not discriminating against anyone else's non-Ivy alma matter, you're in the exact same boat. Just using HF, because of my experience specifically.
What do you guys think?
- PatInTheGradHat
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Confused Disciple
Religion.
Man, where do I begin?
I mean, I don't have a problem with religion. Religions have basically been around as long as people have been around. Whether pagan or otherwise, religion has been a topic of discussion for millenia.
Which brings me to (the beginning of) my point: I think a little differently than the majority of people. I'm not saying I'm something unique or special, because some people I know are quite similar.
I'm saying that the majority of people have religion. They cling to religion for answers. These "answers" are written in books. These people run to these books written by other people--hopefully, but honestly that's sometimes hard to determine--posing as the god they write for, which ironically enough is blasphemous by religious doctrine. When I really think about all of the inconsistencies within religion it gives me a headache. It's no wonder these religion-writers wrote what they did. They thought to themselves, "Ahh, these people need something to follow! If they think about it too much they'll hurt their brains, and no one likes pain, so they'll keep following instead of trying to find the real answer thus allowing us to govern over them with ease." For the most part they were right. Thankfully, they weren't completely right. There are a lot of sheeple in this world, but some sheeple found a way to knock out the heard-dog and go on their own path.
These religions are pretty decent in principle. Not completely great, but some of their stories, parables, and lessons are very useful. Some stories are so great, that if we all followed them to the best of our ability, the world might actually be a bit of a better place. Other stories are so terrible that if we followed those stories the world would be...well...probably about the same mostly crappy place.
That aside, one of the reasons I've slowly moved away from religion--other than authoritative issues--over the course of my life is because of the mild and extreme insanity that have come from people following their religions. I'm not even talking about the people of one religion who tell people of another religion that their religion is right and every other religion is wrong. They are a different kind of insane, but it's not the one I'm focusing on.* I'm talking about the people that feel like they understand their religion so well, which they don't or else they wouldn't do what I'm about to say, that they deject people of another religion based on biases that their own religion could be guilty of.
That kind of madness is just...what?! So, why am I saying all of this? Great question.
I've seen an article going around on social media that talks about a middle school teaching children Islam. This article, of course, was posted by very religious Christians voicing their indignation towards said school. The article**, if 100% true, talks about how the school never notified the parents that they were teaching them Islam. That's definitely an issue--in fact, it's illegal--but it's not the issue that concerned these awe-stricken Christians. No. What concerned them was that these children were learning Islam.
This is basically where I lost. My. Shit. (It's also the reason I'm writing this post. Isn't that fancy?)
Before I continue, some background: The Christian god is, uhh, God. Early Christians wrote a book, you might have heard of it, called the Bible where it basically teaches that everyone should follow God, submit to his will, do crazy shit in his name, etc. The Islamic god is, uhh, also God. "Allah" in Arabic means, you guessed it, "God." And in that book it basically teaches that everyone should follow God, submit to his will, and do crazy shit in his name. Cool? Are we on the same page? Hope so.
The article, as you'll see, mentions that the main things the school was teaching out of Islam are: "The one true God, Allah," and "All people must submit to Allah."
Does any of this sound familiar to anyone? If you said, "Yes, that sounds a lot like the teachings of Christianity," then, hey! Congratulations! You're not a lunatic (yet). Aside: I say "yet" in parentheses because some people already know this to be true, but look at people who learn similar teachings of Islam as, basically, POD for their non-crime crimes of learning similar doctrine. If you're not one of these people, then you're my kind of person.
Now, I will admit that there are "Islamic Extremist" psychos that think flying planes into buildings and kamikaze sucker-bombing people will give them some ridiculous reward in the afterlife. I have Islamic Extremist in quotes because they are not Islamic. They say they are Islamic, and our stupid media feeds the whole Islamic Extremist shtick to Americans as if we're all ignorant know-nothing toddlers who are waiting to be spoon-fed in their high-chair--which they might have something there--but these people are not Islamic. They are terrorists. Period.
But, PatInTheHat, what about Christian/Non-Christians? What crazy shit did they ever do? Oh, man, I'm so glad you asked! Ever hear of the Crusades? Yeah. Look it up. And that's just the beginning of the Christian mayhem.
The people who commented on said social media post said things like, "Oh, but they won't include the Bible in schools," And, "That's really sad." And "It's a disgrace."
To answer them: No, no Bibles in schools (either) thank God; yes, you are sad; yes, you are a disgrace.
To conclude, it's lunch-time and I'm hungry. What am I getting?
Mashed Potatoes, of course.
- PatInTheHat
*The reason I find these people to be insane is because there are so many religions that the odds of their religion being right--which 9 times out of 10 is just a branch of another religion--are slim. They're basically playing the Religion Lottery Sweepstakes, and hoping to god--literally--that their religion is right so they can indulge in the bliss--or fire-y burning hell--that is the afterlife =)
**Here's the article, which doesn't really say all that much:
http://www.truthandaction.org/middle-school-students-taught-islamic-faith-one-true-god-allah/
Man, where do I begin?
I mean, I don't have a problem with religion. Religions have basically been around as long as people have been around. Whether pagan or otherwise, religion has been a topic of discussion for millenia.
Which brings me to (the beginning of) my point: I think a little differently than the majority of people. I'm not saying I'm something unique or special, because some people I know are quite similar.
I'm saying that the majority of people have religion. They cling to religion for answers. These "answers" are written in books. These people run to these books written by other people--hopefully, but honestly that's sometimes hard to determine--posing as the god they write for, which ironically enough is blasphemous by religious doctrine. When I really think about all of the inconsistencies within religion it gives me a headache. It's no wonder these religion-writers wrote what they did. They thought to themselves, "Ahh, these people need something to follow! If they think about it too much they'll hurt their brains, and no one likes pain, so they'll keep following instead of trying to find the real answer thus allowing us to govern over them with ease." For the most part they were right. Thankfully, they weren't completely right. There are a lot of sheeple in this world, but some sheeple found a way to knock out the heard-dog and go on their own path.
These religions are pretty decent in principle. Not completely great, but some of their stories, parables, and lessons are very useful. Some stories are so great, that if we all followed them to the best of our ability, the world might actually be a bit of a better place. Other stories are so terrible that if we followed those stories the world would be...well...probably about the same mostly crappy place.
That aside, one of the reasons I've slowly moved away from religion--other than authoritative issues--over the course of my life is because of the mild and extreme insanity that have come from people following their religions. I'm not even talking about the people of one religion who tell people of another religion that their religion is right and every other religion is wrong. They are a different kind of insane, but it's not the one I'm focusing on.* I'm talking about the people that feel like they understand their religion so well, which they don't or else they wouldn't do what I'm about to say, that they deject people of another religion based on biases that their own religion could be guilty of.
That kind of madness is just...what?! So, why am I saying all of this? Great question.
I've seen an article going around on social media that talks about a middle school teaching children Islam. This article, of course, was posted by very religious Christians voicing their indignation towards said school. The article**, if 100% true, talks about how the school never notified the parents that they were teaching them Islam. That's definitely an issue--in fact, it's illegal--but it's not the issue that concerned these awe-stricken Christians. No. What concerned them was that these children were learning Islam.
This is basically where I lost. My. Shit. (It's also the reason I'm writing this post. Isn't that fancy?)
Before I continue, some background: The Christian god is, uhh, God. Early Christians wrote a book, you might have heard of it, called the Bible where it basically teaches that everyone should follow God, submit to his will, do crazy shit in his name, etc. The Islamic god is, uhh, also God. "Allah" in Arabic means, you guessed it, "God." And in that book it basically teaches that everyone should follow God, submit to his will, and do crazy shit in his name. Cool? Are we on the same page? Hope so.
The article, as you'll see, mentions that the main things the school was teaching out of Islam are: "The one true God, Allah," and "All people must submit to Allah."
Does any of this sound familiar to anyone? If you said, "Yes, that sounds a lot like the teachings of Christianity," then, hey! Congratulations! You're not a lunatic (yet). Aside: I say "yet" in parentheses because some people already know this to be true, but look at people who learn similar teachings of Islam as, basically, POD for their non-crime crimes of learning similar doctrine. If you're not one of these people, then you're my kind of person.
Now, I will admit that there are "Islamic Extremist" psychos that think flying planes into buildings and kamikaze sucker-bombing people will give them some ridiculous reward in the afterlife. I have Islamic Extremist in quotes because they are not Islamic. They say they are Islamic, and our stupid media feeds the whole Islamic Extremist shtick to Americans as if we're all ignorant know-nothing toddlers who are waiting to be spoon-fed in their high-chair--which they might have something there--but these people are not Islamic. They are terrorists. Period.
But, PatInTheHat, what about Christian/Non-Christians? What crazy shit did they ever do? Oh, man, I'm so glad you asked! Ever hear of the Crusades? Yeah. Look it up. And that's just the beginning of the Christian mayhem.
The people who commented on said social media post said things like, "Oh, but they won't include the Bible in schools," And, "That's really sad." And "It's a disgrace."
To answer them: No, no Bibles in schools (either) thank God; yes, you are sad; yes, you are a disgrace.
To conclude, it's lunch-time and I'm hungry. What am I getting?
Mashed Potatoes, of course.
- PatInTheHat
*The reason I find these people to be insane is because there are so many religions that the odds of their religion being right--which 9 times out of 10 is just a branch of another religion--are slim. They're basically playing the Religion Lottery Sweepstakes, and hoping to god--literally--that their religion is right so they can indulge in the bliss--or fire-y burning hell--that is the afterlife =)
**Here's the article, which doesn't really say all that much:
http://www.truthandaction.org/middle-school-students-taught-islamic-faith-one-true-god-allah/
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
GMBP (Genetically Modified Blog Post)
*Deep inhale; quick exhale*
It seems we've reached some sort of crossroad once again. We were doing so well, I thought.
Gah, well. This country has proven time and time again that sense and prosperity only last a short period of time. So, why am I surprised? Valid question, but I don't know.
Currently, I am quite perplexed with the general population once again. In any given situation, people take sides. Many of those that take sides are either misinformed or are too under-informed to have their own opinion. There's a phrase in medicine, specifically between hospital interns, residents, and tenured doctors that goes like this: Sometimes wrong, never a doubt.
It's a powerful phrase, yeah? I mean, think about it. Hundreds of people go through hospital doors every day, and sometimes those people were brought to the hospital bleeding out of all different places and unconscious. Without much, if any, medical background to go off of for that particular unlucky patient, the doctor, normally the Chief Resident, needs to make very quick decisions in order to have a fighting chance to save said person's life. Sometimes, that person dies. It's a sad reality, but a reality nonetheless. The Chief Resident, during these situations, generally calls the shots. He needs to walk into an OR and make decisions quick. When these ER rushes happen, there is generally no time for the "uhh, umm, let's see here, hmm, let's think about this," that the rest of us have the luxury of having for our jobs--or any other time in our lives. It's the reason we...no, sorry, I won't speak for any of you...it's the reason I can't be a medical doctor.
For those that are in a similar bubble as me, perhaps you are thinkers. You are ponderers, wonderers, but mostly--fearers. You fear being wrong. You fear making a grave mistake that could cost you or others pain and suffering. Maybe you also fear how others see you. You fear dejection. Maybe you even fear the possibility that you deject yourself after a risk doesn't pay off. Maybe you even fear that you won't be able to get over that mistake subsequently. Moreover, you fear people who don't have this fear. You think and analyze and, to the best of your ability, rationalize whatever decision it is that you're going to make. Once you've accepted the potential consequences, you make a decision. When you've met someone of the contrary, your genetic computer doesn't compute their being. They are monsters.
To you, these people are a genetic defect in the system. They are able to conquer extreme emotional abnormalities better than most. Even if these people are intelligent, their methods are questioned. Perhaps you try to rationalize that they cannot be trusted because they are unable to feel the same way that you feel.. For anyone, even for them, that is scary.
Some of these people--these doctors--have a bit of a different calling. Perhaps, their mental wiring is too different for the "extreme decision world," that I previously mentioned in an ER setting. Those people become Oncologists, Pediatricians, or get into specialized areas like ENT (ear, nose, and throat) doctors do. Others, feel that they'd rather research. They'd rather be on the front lines of new cures. They were effected by a family member loss from some incurable disease, and their calling is to pioneer new medicine in their dead relatives honor. It's not always this way, but I can guarantee you that there are many.
These people test. They test everything. Every new drug they test in rodents. Animal activists might be appalled by this fact, but it's all we have. Similar to the military force argument--this is the country we have. Yes, there are others, but imagine what would happen if terrible people infiltrated our country. Without proper defenses, whether immune-system defenses, military defenses, etc. they are tested and used to the best of their ability until they fail, and then we think of something else.
These tests, getting back on track with the medicine talk, birth fact through the use of a specific dosage of whatever new drug is being tested along with the time it is used on its subjects--i.e. the rodents I mentioned earlier. Rodents and pigs are generally used for these experiments, because they have VERY similar organ structures as we do. If the tests are working in these animals, the scientists, doctors, etc. up the milligram, cc, etc. dosage to scale to humans. Humans are then inserted into drug trials so that doctors are able to figure out if humans receive the same, worse, different, or less side-effects as the animals. Once these trials are done, the drug, if it passes FDA, CDC, and whatever other guidelines it needs to pass, is put on the market for consumers.*
With all of that said, vaccines go through the very same process. GMOs, on the other hand, don't necessarily go through that process, but they ARE constantly being tested.
This brings us back to the paragraph on fear. Even though science has proven time and time again the innocents of these products, many of you are afraid that they are life-threatening. The guff against vaccines is silly, I admit, but at least the logic behind anti-vacciners makes sense. Why does it make sense? Because one of the first places our blood goes to after it's shot in our arm--which is generally where vaccines are given--goes where? Our brain. No, vaccines do not cause Autism, but since vaccines go straight to the brain, anti-vacciners, who might know THIS fact, at least, believe that the vaccine causes immediate brain damage that doesn't manifest for years down the line or something--honestly, I'm not sure where the rationale goes after that, but it's the best that I could do. For those afraid of GMOs, you make no sense to me at all. Especially if you are for vaccines, your guff against GMOs is ludicrous, because even if GMOs do harm to you, they won't do harm to you for years down the line! Like, MANY years. Like the difference between dying of 100 and dying at a normal human's life-expectancy anyway of like 77.
For those that argue that GMOs may cause cancer. I hear you. It IS possible, since not a lot of testing has yet been done on this front, but before you freak about GMOs causing cancer here's a fun fact for you: On average, every woman on the planet will get breast cancer before they die, while every man will get prostate cancer. GMOs or not, this will happen. Cancer is made of us.We don't catch it like a cold. Sometimes genetics pass it along. Sometimes too much sun exposure causes genetic mutations in the skin, etc. There are tons of ways we could get cancer--one of which is actually the theory that the radiation from nuclear reactor meltdowns, A-bombs, etc. over the years have circumvented throughout the planet, due to high/low pressures, aka - wind, and we are finally starting to see the side-effects of those events worldwide. Obviously, that would have nothing to do with GMOs, especially since GMOs were actually created to prevent food-born illness! Yes, I realize that if they do have a link to cancer, that that potential fact is ironic, but the point still remains:
If you believe in science, then don't just pick and choose which sciences to believe in. If you do that, then any comment you've ever made towards someone's religion is just hypocritical. Look at the scientific facts, act on those facts--because they're facts--then support the progress.
I know this one was a bit long, but if you actually read all of this, thanks for reading.
- PatInTheLabCoat
*If any of my MD/Pharm-D friends want to tell me the other guidelines, please do! I'd be happy to get enlightened.
It seems we've reached some sort of crossroad once again. We were doing so well, I thought.
Gah, well. This country has proven time and time again that sense and prosperity only last a short period of time. So, why am I surprised? Valid question, but I don't know.
Currently, I am quite perplexed with the general population once again. In any given situation, people take sides. Many of those that take sides are either misinformed or are too under-informed to have their own opinion. There's a phrase in medicine, specifically between hospital interns, residents, and tenured doctors that goes like this: Sometimes wrong, never a doubt.
It's a powerful phrase, yeah? I mean, think about it. Hundreds of people go through hospital doors every day, and sometimes those people were brought to the hospital bleeding out of all different places and unconscious. Without much, if any, medical background to go off of for that particular unlucky patient, the doctor, normally the Chief Resident, needs to make very quick decisions in order to have a fighting chance to save said person's life. Sometimes, that person dies. It's a sad reality, but a reality nonetheless. The Chief Resident, during these situations, generally calls the shots. He needs to walk into an OR and make decisions quick. When these ER rushes happen, there is generally no time for the "uhh, umm, let's see here, hmm, let's think about this," that the rest of us have the luxury of having for our jobs--or any other time in our lives. It's the reason we...no, sorry, I won't speak for any of you...it's the reason I can't be a medical doctor.
For those that are in a similar bubble as me, perhaps you are thinkers. You are ponderers, wonderers, but mostly--fearers. You fear being wrong. You fear making a grave mistake that could cost you or others pain and suffering. Maybe you also fear how others see you. You fear dejection. Maybe you even fear the possibility that you deject yourself after a risk doesn't pay off. Maybe you even fear that you won't be able to get over that mistake subsequently. Moreover, you fear people who don't have this fear. You think and analyze and, to the best of your ability, rationalize whatever decision it is that you're going to make. Once you've accepted the potential consequences, you make a decision. When you've met someone of the contrary, your genetic computer doesn't compute their being. They are monsters.
To you, these people are a genetic defect in the system. They are able to conquer extreme emotional abnormalities better than most. Even if these people are intelligent, their methods are questioned. Perhaps you try to rationalize that they cannot be trusted because they are unable to feel the same way that you feel.. For anyone, even for them, that is scary.
Some of these people--these doctors--have a bit of a different calling. Perhaps, their mental wiring is too different for the "extreme decision world," that I previously mentioned in an ER setting. Those people become Oncologists, Pediatricians, or get into specialized areas like ENT (ear, nose, and throat) doctors do. Others, feel that they'd rather research. They'd rather be on the front lines of new cures. They were effected by a family member loss from some incurable disease, and their calling is to pioneer new medicine in their dead relatives honor. It's not always this way, but I can guarantee you that there are many.
These people test. They test everything. Every new drug they test in rodents. Animal activists might be appalled by this fact, but it's all we have. Similar to the military force argument--this is the country we have. Yes, there are others, but imagine what would happen if terrible people infiltrated our country. Without proper defenses, whether immune-system defenses, military defenses, etc. they are tested and used to the best of their ability until they fail, and then we think of something else.
These tests, getting back on track with the medicine talk, birth fact through the use of a specific dosage of whatever new drug is being tested along with the time it is used on its subjects--i.e. the rodents I mentioned earlier. Rodents and pigs are generally used for these experiments, because they have VERY similar organ structures as we do. If the tests are working in these animals, the scientists, doctors, etc. up the milligram, cc, etc. dosage to scale to humans. Humans are then inserted into drug trials so that doctors are able to figure out if humans receive the same, worse, different, or less side-effects as the animals. Once these trials are done, the drug, if it passes FDA, CDC, and whatever other guidelines it needs to pass, is put on the market for consumers.*
With all of that said, vaccines go through the very same process. GMOs, on the other hand, don't necessarily go through that process, but they ARE constantly being tested.
This brings us back to the paragraph on fear. Even though science has proven time and time again the innocents of these products, many of you are afraid that they are life-threatening. The guff against vaccines is silly, I admit, but at least the logic behind anti-vacciners makes sense. Why does it make sense? Because one of the first places our blood goes to after it's shot in our arm--which is generally where vaccines are given--goes where? Our brain. No, vaccines do not cause Autism, but since vaccines go straight to the brain, anti-vacciners, who might know THIS fact, at least, believe that the vaccine causes immediate brain damage that doesn't manifest for years down the line or something--honestly, I'm not sure where the rationale goes after that, but it's the best that I could do. For those afraid of GMOs, you make no sense to me at all. Especially if you are for vaccines, your guff against GMOs is ludicrous, because even if GMOs do harm to you, they won't do harm to you for years down the line! Like, MANY years. Like the difference between dying of 100 and dying at a normal human's life-expectancy anyway of like 77.
For those that argue that GMOs may cause cancer. I hear you. It IS possible, since not a lot of testing has yet been done on this front, but before you freak about GMOs causing cancer here's a fun fact for you: On average, every woman on the planet will get breast cancer before they die, while every man will get prostate cancer. GMOs or not, this will happen. Cancer is made of us.We don't catch it like a cold. Sometimes genetics pass it along. Sometimes too much sun exposure causes genetic mutations in the skin, etc. There are tons of ways we could get cancer--one of which is actually the theory that the radiation from nuclear reactor meltdowns, A-bombs, etc. over the years have circumvented throughout the planet, due to high/low pressures, aka - wind, and we are finally starting to see the side-effects of those events worldwide. Obviously, that would have nothing to do with GMOs, especially since GMOs were actually created to prevent food-born illness! Yes, I realize that if they do have a link to cancer, that that potential fact is ironic, but the point still remains:
If you believe in science, then don't just pick and choose which sciences to believe in. If you do that, then any comment you've ever made towards someone's religion is just hypocritical. Look at the scientific facts, act on those facts--because they're facts--then support the progress.
I know this one was a bit long, but if you actually read all of this, thanks for reading.
- PatInTheLabCoat
*If any of my MD/Pharm-D friends want to tell me the other guidelines, please do! I'd be happy to get enlightened.
Monday, February 2, 2015
I Can Be Worthless, Too (Grumpy Pat Ed.)
Weathermen.
How I hate you.
I know you're not perfect creatures, but holy hell! Two weeks in a row you predicted nearly significant to very significant snowfall for the Greater Philadelphia region and both times you were just really wrong. Hardly even close, really.
Last week, the first time you sage predictors expected a Snowpocalypse event, I still received a day off out of it--I admit, it was nice. However, that day was a Tuesday. I was already in work bright and early the previous day after a nice (extremely fuck-balls) short weekend. After a day to get the body re-acclimated to just absolutely hating life as we know it, it's not as hard to go into work the following day. Although the break was nice, I kinda WANTED to go to work on that Tuesday--I know, what type of "sick and delusional" am I, right? You see, weathermen, I'm a paid intern. I get paid hourly, which means: If you fuckers continuously fuck up until 1am the previous morning of a "giant" snow storm, then I will not go to work the following day. I will expect, silly me, that you're approximately right. I didn't need a foot of snow, a good 6-7 inches would have plenty sufficed. I basically accepted that you were likely 50% wrong. Much to my chagrin as I woke up Tuesday morning at around 10:30a, you were even MORE wrong than that. Curse you.
Luckily, my place of business opened way late, which meant driving to work would have actually cost me money, so it all worked out. That "luckily" is pointed towards you, weathermen. Lucky for you that some people got a day off from work anyway, because if they didn't, and you were THAT wrong: Pitchforks and fire torches, weathermen. PITCHFORKS AND FIRE TORCHES!
Some of you came out and apologized for your inaccuracy. It was more than warranted. We, as a society, accepted your apologies. You're all human, and as we all know: Humans are stupid. So, that's fine. None of you got fired. All of you were fine. And life continued for the rest of us.
On Friday, you weather-mavericks, you fucking weather prodigies, you shrewdest-of-them-all weathermen, you started back on your path of lies predicting 4-6 inches for the Philly area and even more out west. By Sunday night, that's Super Bowl Sunday night, you already started downgrading that roar of a "storm" to a kitten's meow.
How important was it to get this one right, you might ask? Well, you see, the day after the Super Bowl roughly no one, even those who only watched the Puppy Bowl for 4 hours straight, wants to come into work the next day. The Monday after the Super Bowl might as well be called "The worst day to do anything ever," because the night before, everyone, for hardly any reason at all, drinks alcohol and eats themselves into a food coma.
So, what did I do? I got up early on Monday expecting ice to line the roads, but no. In fact, there was no reason to wake up early, because that ice you predicted was really just a sheet of slush. The streets looked like a 7/11 threw up all over the place. I proceeded to leave for work early and arrive early for all of the nothing I had to do once I arrived.
All-in-all: Thank you, weather-shits. Next time I'll just look out the window.
Today's weather, in case anyone's curious: It's fucking cloudy.
- PatInTheFuckThisShit
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