Juan Valdez, Shakira, Coffee and other stuff from Mexico

For the past three months, I have been working on a software implementation project at work. I am by no means a project manager. I am also by no means a software implementor. I just happen to have those skill sets. I'm just some dude who is pretty good at spreadsheets and really good at human resources. As such, I have had many early mornings at work over these past three months -- some days arriving as 3:00 in the morning.

Read that last part again. 3:00 in the morning.

I haven't had much time to blog lately as the 6 (six) of you who read this thing can tell. I'm usually pretty exhausted and my brain is pretty fried by the time that I get home from work that I eat dinner, drink a beer, and fall asleep watching hockey. It's like I'm married but without the companionship or sex. Actually... it IS like I'm married.

You may be reading this and thinking, "Wait... It's 8 something in the morning on a Thursday. Why is peanutisawesome blogging? Did he lose his job?" The answer is no, I did not. I am off for vacation for the next few days and my laundry takes time to dry. I tried to use magic on it but it didn't work.

Anyway, for the past 6 1/2 years, I haven't drank caffeine. Well, I take that back. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have drank caffeine in the past 6 1/2 years. And none of these 3:00am starts at work were among those times that I drank caffeine. I know I'm impressive.

In the world of dating (so I'm told), men often take women out for coffee as a first date. Coffee and all of those machiattoespressolattezombiemutantlibertarianintellegnsia drinks all seem to have caffeine in them. So now I'm double screwed. But what really grinds my gears is the baristas.

Wait. What?

Yes, the baristas.

Now, since I know nothing about the world of hot caffeinated beverages, I am going to make some broad, wildly sweeping generalizations across the board that are based on nothing but pure emotion and entertainment.

First of all: Look at this asshat.

Secondly, when in the hell did barista become a respected and honored occupation? I'm certainly not trying to belittle a person who has that position, I'm simply trying to belittle the position itself. And, yes, based on the list of jobs that I have held (in either a part- or full-time capacity) that I am about to list, I feel that I am fully capable of passing judgment:

- HRIS Analyst

- Freelance Sticker and Bookmark Cutter Outer

- Executive Recruiter

- Employee Resource Specialist

- Flower Delivery Driver

- Bar Trivia Question Writer & Host

- Pizza Delivery Driver

- Window Washer

- HR Administrator

- Shoe Salesman

- Taco Bell Crew Member (Employee of the Month, September 1997, Howell, Michigan)

- Pizza Restaurant Cook and Dishwasher (unrelated to the Pizza Delivery Driver position mentioned above)

I think that covers it. My point here is none of these positions has ever been revered and as well thought of as a barista. Some of them have even paid pretty well. Some of them even allowed me to, if I could afford it and if I could make it happen, take a girl out for a cup of coffee to be served to us by the aforementioned barista.

Third. Dude. It's coffee. Mexico has a shit ton of it. I know because dudes with mustaches and donkeys pick the beans and then gringos are like, "Hey, I won a contest! Give me all of the coffee beans!"Colombia is part of Mexico, right? Oh, shit! Colombia is where Shakira is from! I'm an idiot. To make it up to you, here is a picture of Shakira holding an apple while being attacked by a BabyTree.

Maybe, though, that I just don't get it. And that's usually the case.

The Return of the Give Flowers to a Single Lady in Nashville on Valentine's Day Giveway

Every year, Valentine's Day rolls around. It's like Christmas. Or Jeopardy! at 6:00pm (which I am currently watching and knocking the shit out of these college kids including some guy from Vanderbilt -- take THAT!). Or wait... That last thing is daily. What else rolls around? Marbles? Sure. Every year, Valentine's Day rolls around like marbles. How's that for a simile? And just like a room full of marbles, navigating Valentine's Day is particularly tricky. Unless, of course, you are a cast member of an ensemble romantic comedy starring everyone ever. Then things just sort of fall into place. Like marbles into marble-shaped and -sized holes.

Have I written enough about marbles yet? Maybe for today but I don't promise anything. Except...

That's right, Ladies. With a capital "L". It's just about time for my annual giveaway. That's right: Give Flowers to a Single Lady in Nashville on Valentine's Day Giveaway

Here are the rules. 'Cause what's the fun of having a contest if you can't have rules? That's the fun part, right? The rules?

1.) First of all, you won't owe me anything. You don't have to call me. You don't have to text me. You don't have to even know me all that well. We don't have to be friends on facebook (which is my FAVORITE thing on earth). I'm not even looking to celebrate the infamous Steak and BJ Day the following month.

2.) The flowers will be from A Village of Flowers. I used to work there and any chance I can get to support them, I will support them. They've been making dudes look like champs for years.

3.) I will spend up to $65. This is the approximate cost of a dozen roses. If you want roses, that's cool with me. I can think of many other flowers that I like better but these are for you and if you want a dozen roses then, damnit, you're gonna get your dozen roses.

4.) As my friend Ryan has already jokingly inquired, yes, you have to be a woman, you have to be single, and you have to live in Nashville. I'm not driving out to Lebanon after I've been at work all day. Antioch is also out of the question. Madison? Doesn't count. You get the idea.

5.) The winner is picked by me. Don't feel bad if you don't win. It's not that exciting. I'm probably going to show up in dress pants and a button up shirt. I sit in front of a computer all day.

So, why am I doing this? Well, let's look at Valentine's Day. For the two weeks leading up to it, all you hear on the radio are commercials for buying that special lady in your life a diamond that looks like a piece of frozen spit from a chain

jewelry store. Or if you listen to a really awesome station, a commercial telling you to buy your sweetheart a cell phone. I shit you not, I heard that very commercial last night. I'd probably be pretty stoked if someone bought me a cell phone. I'd turn around, sell it on eBay, and then use that money to pay for these flowers that I'm getting some lady. That's a pretty cyclical argument, in'it? No, the real reason is that I feel like an ass most of the year. And as much as everyone says that they hate VD -- that's Valentine's Day, you sickos -- you, and me, and everyone else that's sitting at home all by themselves watching Muppet Treasure Island on a Friday night whilst updating their blog probably wishes that they weren't... Which will likely mirror my Valentine's Day night. I just randomly picked those last things out. Muppet Treasure Island. And Friday night. Updating their blog. By myself. My point is (and, yes, I realize how incredibly long this paragraph has become) is that I'm trying to be nice. I'm not very good at it and this about the one thing that I can do each year to do something, well, nice.

If you don't want flowers, that's cool. Don't enter. If you'd like to be in the contest, just send me a message/email/facebook thingy and let me know. The more creative the reason, the better chance you have of me showing up on your doorstep a week and a half from now with an arrangement and wearing business casual clothes and smelling like a manufacturing facility. I'm not trying to be romantic, I'm just trying to make one lady's day a little bit better

.

Qdoba vs. Chuy's

It's Monday, January 2nd. Normally this would be a day when dudes who have jobs like I do (the kind where you wear dress pants and leather shoes) would celebrate the New Year holiday by not going in to work. But do to a tiny incident last year, there was a bit of a shut down, some holidays got cancelled at the company I work for, and so I went in to work today. This meant that instead of watching football all day long, I was at work and had to wait until this evening when I got home to watch games.

I was preparing to watch the Tostito's Fiesta Bowl, which I have no real rooting interest in, but was merely excited at the prospect of a quality game. As I got to thinking what I should eat for dinner, the words "tostito's" and "fiesta" kept popping into my head. I like Mexican food just like anyone else. Anyone who says that they don't like Mexican (or TexMex or Texican or Salvadoran or whatever) food is a liar. I got in my car and headed some place new. I told my friend Andy that this year is the year that I take more risks. Seemed like a food good idea at the time.

As I headed near midtown, I could see the glow of the neon outside the new TexMexiSalvadoran restaurant in Nashville. It's a little place called Chuy's that people have been losing their shit over for the past few months. I can't figure out why. I have eaten Chuy'sonce before in my life. They catered a meal when I contracted at Asurion -- a place where I subsequently got in trouble for blogging about when I worked there. It was pretty good, as I recall, and the queso cheese cow juice dip was really damn good. Seemed like a good idea at the time, right?

I thought it was. Like the time I asked out that 22 year old. Or that 19 year old. Or that married woman. I didn't know she was married. Not my fault.

I walked into Chuy's here in Nashville and the dude at the host station, who I'm going to go ahead and assume was the manager, and the chick at the same host station, who I'm going to assume was the co-manager, asked me if I would like a table. I didn't. I just wanted to place a to-go order. Tostito's. Fiesta. Football. Remember?

I told them about my desires. Not the desire to ask out a 22 year old. Or that 19 year old. Orthat married woman. But the desire to order food to go. The very nature of to go implies speed, quickness, rapidity -- all things related to the length of my relationships and/or infatuations with some woman who may be 22, 19, or married. They told me that "we'll get someone to take your to go order in just a second."

So there I stood. Waiting. And greeted by a few other people who work there telling me that they would get someone to take my order. I know that working in a restaurant can be hectic. I've done it. I rememememememember that no matter how busy you are in a restaurant, you're never to busy to take care of a customer who wants to give you money. I learned that from Reservoir Dogs.

I waited, becoming more and more annoyed that no one would take my money order. 17 minutes I waited.

So I finally said, "Screw it" and went to Qdoba. I don't know what I go anywhere else. Ever.

The lesson here, friends, ladies who happen to be reading this and want to ask me out on a date (and AREN'T 22, 19, or married), is to not go to Chuy's restaurant and to go Qdoba instead.

And also to drink beer. It makes you attractive to the opposite sex. And also to listen to Slayer. They are better than Winger.

Fell on Black Fridays

In trying to figure out what to do with my morning, like many American men the day after Thanksgiving (colloquially known as Black Friday), I have been awake for about an hour and a half and spent almost that entire time watching the cinematic monsterpiece Santa with Muscles. The plot is, essentially, that an evil millionaire (played by Hulk Hogan) gets amnesia, forgets who he, believes himself to be Santa Claus, and then gives a bunch of gifts to people at the end of the movie including a telescope to a young girl who doesn't know how to use it and a lawnmower to a 60-year old black dude. Where are ya on that one, Roger Ebert? That's what I thought...

All that being said, I will not be going shopping today. I am not much of a Christmas gift shopper and prefer to do most of it from the comfort of my underpants and an internet connection. That sounded strange. Yes, I know it's not as personal as going to a store, picking something out, fawning over it, getting excited that you think your older sister or dad or girlfriend or whomever will really like it, and all that jazz. I don't care. Besides, I don't havemuch money right now because some 9 weeks after I stopped working for THIS DUDE (whose website has been redesigned and looks like it is now angelfire ready and is rife with spelling and grammar errors), I still have not received all of the moneys owed to me. It's a disaster. A nightmare. And I am *this* close to dissin' him on the internet, no matter what BigLegs Beyonce tells me I shouldn't do. Maybe I should say his name, say his name. And you probably didn't think you were gonna get two Destiny's Child references in one blog, did you? It's a Black Friday bonanza! Two-for-one on Destiny's Child references! These deals are on FIRE!

So back to my point... I am avoiding shopping as much as I can today. I live close to the Green Hills mall and while I haven't even ventured all the way down my hallway yet, I can only imagine what a disaster Hillsboro Pike is right now. I'm scared. Hold me. One might also think that I would be job searching all day today but let's be honest: who here, outside of the world of retail, is at work today? Not too many folks, I would imagine. And certainly no hiring managers. Which means that no new jobs have been or are being posted these past few days. I'm pretty good at interneting, you guys.

But for you rabid consumers out there and for any big box store marketers (that's a job, right?), I can hear you saying, "Why don't you just put it on your credit card and pay it off later?" Because I don't like credit cards and the only reason I have one is for an emergency. I use it only for an emergency so much so that I picked the most embarrassing design that my bank had so that I would be ashamed to use it.

Yup. Kitten in a field.

So here's my advice to specific groups of people this morning:

Former boss: PAY ME.

Shoppers: Stay home. Enjoy the day with friends and family.

Retail workers: Smile and be nice. Yes, this day sucks more than anything has ever sucked in the history of things sucking but at least you're working.

Hiring managers: Hire me.

I know I could have succinctly summed that up right at the beginning but that wouldn't have made for much an entry, now would it? And you would have missed out a picture of a kitty kcredit kcard. And some awesome alliteration.

Thanksgiving, Bacon, and Meat Dresses

Ah, Thanksgiving. What should be the one day of the year where EVERYONE is a Detroit Lions fan, we can all eat as much as we want to, and putting bacon on, well, everything seems like a very good idea. Anyone who says Thanksgiving is all about the turkey is an idiot. Thanksgiving should be all about the bacon. BACON BACON BACON. I just posted a picture of Kevin Bacon appearing in Hollow Man just to prove to everyone that no matter how much you may hate Bacon [sorry, Sue], you still love bacon.

Good God, I'm good.

Seeing as that I am not going home (that's Michigan, by the way) for Thanksgiving and haven't except for the year my grandad was sick when I flew first class and enjoyed a complimentary beer, I have very much depended on the kindness of friends for their hospitality and cooking... Except for the one year where Langford and I ate pizza, drank beer, and then realized that the heat in my house was out. You guys should hear me say the last part of that last sentence with a wicked Michigan accent.

I was going to rundown a list of things that I'm thankful for. Or, happy thoughts. Things that would make Peter Pan fly. Here is where I wanted to insert a picture of all those kids from

Hook holding up signs that read things like "Candy" and "Birfday" but the internet is being difficult with me this morning and finding that image is exhausting and I just don't want to look any longer. Instead you get the fat kid with the sword (the character's name was Thud, by the way) and there's not a snowball's chance in hell that Pan would have made him leader of the Lost Boys. Where's he gonna lead 'em? To Old Country Buffet? Actually, that sounds pretty good.

Which leads me to my next point. Because when I think about adventures, Thanksgiving, garish outfits, dudes wearing wigs, and really bad singing, I think of only one thing: Lady Gaga. And wouldn't you know it, she happens to have her own Thanksgiving TV special this week. Yeah, 'cause that's what I want to watch on Thanksgiving. Some chick in a meat dress. Well, maybe if it were made out of bacon. Then we'd have something.

On a much more serious note, I hope you guys are all thankful for everything you've got. You get to read my blog which means you can read, you probably own a computer, and you have access to the internet. You're probably sitting in your home or at work (which means that, unlike me, you have a job); both of which mean that you have a place to live and the means to afford a place to live. Maybe you're at a coffeehouse which means you've got enough expendable income and time to go to a coffeehouse. You're probably doing something that you're good at or at least would like to be good at and so you may be following your dream or your passion or your whatever motivational word inspires you. Also, you're probably starting to think about getting gifts for friends and family and all of the shopping that you may do Friday. Unless of course you work at Target and in that case, your Black Friday workday starts at 9pm on Thursday night. You're probably getting into the holiday spirit and you may have already put your Christmas tree up. And even though there are plenty of things that suck in life aside from Lady Gaga's Thanksgiving special and the fact that Nickelback is playing the Lions' halftime show (unless a miracle happens, you're still better off than Kevin Bacon was in Hollow Man.

What kind of jobs I will not do and a $10 billion guarantee*

It has been 8 weeks since I stopped working full-time. Frankly, I am amazed at how little money I have been able to survive on. And that I am able to end sentences with prepositions. And that I am able to start sentences with the word "and". And that I just started and ended a sentence with a word "and". And I did it twice in a row. Man, communicating is neat.

Of course, I haven't been doing nothing in these past 8 weeks. I have gone back and forth with my former employer about money that's owed to me; a situation that has offered all of the drama of a WWE (formerly WWF) plot line. I have worked some freelance gigs. I have worked part-time hither and yon. I have interviewed with some great companies and some not so great companies. I have explored some new opportunities outside of the world of human resources. Which leads me to the point of my blog today.

What kind of jobs I will not do.

It's easier for me to start with the negative. On Saturday, someone told me that I need to be more optimistic but that can wait a bit. Besides, I'm going to use the proximity effect on this blog. You'll come away feeling all romantic and thinking about how much you love me and would want to hire me. Especially if you're a lady.

Okay... Number one job I would not do:

-- Waiter. Seriously. Can any of you guys see me as a waiter? A surly bartender perhaps but no

t as a waiter. Unless it was at a place like Dick's or Applebee's where the servers are paid to be jackholes to you. I'm not above the food service industry by any stretch of the imagination (I used to work in a pizza joint and at Taco Bell when I was in high school) and I don't think that I was particularly good at either of those jobs.

-- Computer Salesman. I actually interviewed about two and a half years ago for this very position but it turns out that the company wanted me to telemarket ink and toner cartridges. That doesn't sound like fun at all. I know, I know... Work is called "work" and not "super adventure puppy time" for a reason but I don't think I'd be very good at this either. Unless (and this is a BIG unless) Charlton Heston was my boss and I was only pretending to be a computer salesman. Then I'd be willing to listen. If the U.S. government happens to be reading this, give me a call. If Dell happens to be reading this and wants to speak with me about an inside sales role, I must politely decline.

-- Male Escort. Although, I guess I could parlay my experiences into writing a book. What?! You mean it's already been done?! Okay... Definitely throw that out the window. By the way, when googling "male escort service nashville" you don't get many quality results. I can help with that. I understand search engine optimization a bit.

Pretty much everything else is fair game.

I'm finding it hard, though, to fill the days. I spend lots of time networking online, applying for positions, doing phone and in-person interviews but haven't landed just yet. And, let's be honest, there's only so many jobs available and so many jobs posted online. So I've got to fill my days somehow. For instance, I have spent this morning looking for jobs (FIRST THING I DID!!!), blogging, and have progressed regressed to watching Twilight: Vampire Hugs in my underpants:

If that doesn't get your hearts racing, hiring managers of the world, I don't know what will.

So, in closing, if you are looking for someone who understands human resources, recruiting, social media as something that is actually useful and (simultaneously) totally ridiculous, search engine optimization (if you guys link to my blog, I guarantee that you will get $10 billion*), content creation, floral delivery, kicking ass at Jeopardy!, and a whole host of other things, get at me. I'm all about engaging. Especially the engaging that's done at the end of this Twilight: Vampire Hugs movie.

Did I just gave away the ending? Oh, well.

Job leads are appreciated.

*10 billion guarantee not guaranteed.

Working

Holy cow... A whole heap has happened in the past whenever it has been since I updated my blog.

- That Kardashian (What's her name? Kitty?) got divorced.

- Ben Gibbard and Zoey Deschacan'tsing got divorced.

- I got divorced from my job.

What? I know, I know. I think that if it weren't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all. But at least I'd have burritos.

So, in mid-September, I lost my job. This is due to the fact that I hadn't been paid by said job in several weeks and had begun looking for new opportunities with companies that were going to, what's it called, pay me on time. This got back to the owner of the company and out I was, lickety split. How many times do you think you're going to read "lickety split" on the internet today? Probably not many. And for those of you wondering, I have still not been paid money owed to me. I know that in the midst of a job search, you're not supposed to speak badly about a former employer and I haven't mentioned that company's name once. But you get the point.

So, over the course of the past six weeks, I went on tour with my roommates' band (and their new single called itun.es/iBZ98d">"Better Life" is available on itunes today), I went on some interviews, and I went running most every day. And, frankly, I'm surprised on how

little money I've been able to survive on.

I've also ended a few sentences with prepositions. I live on the edge. But

not like Steven Tyler. That dude lives at the hospital... With all of the falling that he does.

What? He does.

So, after interviewing with a few companies thus far, I am asking you, the internet, to help me find a job. What am I looking for? Well, I'm glad you asked:

- A company that will pay me on time. This means a company that says "We will pay you on the 15th and 30th of every month" and then actually do it. If it's a company that says "I/We promise to pay you just as soon as we can" then they can kiss my Irish backside. I'm 31 years old and I'm, well, too old for that.

- A non-family owned company. I don't want to meet the owner's/owners' kids. I don't care about their soccer practice. I don't care if they got a new bike for their birthday. I'm happy to chat with you about those things for just a second or two but not much more. The company is paying me to do a job, not talk about Umbros. Those are soccer shorts, by the way.

- Growth. I don't want a job that wants to move me just to move me. I worked for a company like that once. It wasn't awesome.

- An open environment. If you want me to just hang out in my office all day, I'm probably going to be bored. If you want me to bounce ideas off of people, we can talk.

- A non-sales position. I don't want to sell life insurance. What man grows up to think, "Man, I'd really like to get my Series Whateverit'scalled License so I can sell insurance"? No one awesome. Except for that Bill Porter guy (portrayed by William H Macy) in that one TNTBS movie. He was pretty awesome.

We can talk about salary later.

So if any of my friends have leads, let me know. I look good in a suit and know how to match my socks. If either of those helps.