Go figure...

It was a total waste of time; four hours, to be exact. Honest effort on my end resulted in an automated two-line rejection letter. I mean, really? The HR representative who contacted me in the first place didn't have five minutes to write a personal note? In response, I wrote back requesting that they remove my personal information from their database. I didn't go on to say what else I felt, namely, that I would never consider working for a company with such unprofessional practices as wearing sloppy clothes to an interview (regardless of the casual work environment) and also openly doodling during said interview. I knew at that point that I wasn't being taken seriously. Great job, [name withheld]. You really had me thinking for a minute that you were interested in what I had to say. You're certainly no artist, so don't quit your day job.

But, in other news, M. Perreault has been up with the Capitals for a few games now, and he and his Hershey cohorts have done excellent work in keeping the ship afloat while other players search for their "A" games. Couple that with all the work I have to do at this contractor job and I'm not doing that badly. Although I would certainly appreciate some added security, as long as the work doesn't dry up--and I keep getting told that it won't--well, OK, I'll deal with it for now.

Coming up: The annual list of shit that happened this year.

Sports.

It's basketball season, which is a fine time, of course, for more irrational hate. Kyle Singler, I'm watching you and your stupid face. You must be over 21 by now and you look 6. I can't wait for the NBA to run you over like a ton of bricks. I hope the #12 jersey is cursed--ever notice that your bench coach, The Great Wojo, wore the same jersey? Sure, he was great in college, but I sure as hell never saw him getting his drink on like Bobby Hurley and running his truck off of a cliff somewhere on the west coast. Damn right, Bobby Hurley. Those were the days. But back to you, Kyle: I can't stand you. You are on the Tulowitzki List. And speaking of that cocky bastard, what were the Rockies thinking when they signed him to a 10-year extension?! Jesus.

It's also hockey season. It's the 75th anniversary of the creation of the AHL. I have to say, $25 to sit behind the team bench is way more cost effective than a million times that up at the next level. I must say a big thanks to our recent hosts in Syracuse, who were gracious enough to take us to a Syracuse Crunch game. Now, the Crunch I can do without, but their formidable opponents, the Hershey Bears--that's a team I can get behind. I like chocolate. I like bears. I like French-Canadian centers with names that are somewhat difficult to pronounce. Yes, especially those. Never mind that the name in particular rhymes with a large-eared, petite former presidential candidate who happens to own the IT company with which my current employer has a contract for tech support. J'aime, j'aime, j'aime. Now if I could just remember how to say twenty-four in French... Ou est le bus?

Finally, it's getting close to the end of the year. Time to resolve all the shit that happened in the past 11 months. Being an adult has been horrifying yet entertaining once again; the next hurdle on my horizon is obtaining a mortgage, so long as my house of choice doesn't disappear from the market. To that end, I've made it to the final interview round for a senior position at a tech publishing company. Although being a contractor has its perks, like a higher rate of pay (at least on paper), paying for my own health insurance fucking blows. That, and it's cheapy-high-deductible-nothing-covered-until-you-are-broke insurance. To hell with that. So in reality I'll be making more money at the new job and get my benefits at a greatly subsidized rate. I may even be able to do some business on the side for my old employer, because I've been in the system for five years and they know I know my shit. Can't wait to see what happens with all that; I should know sometime before Xmas.

I think it's time for some sushi. That is all.