Archive for the 'San Francisco' Category

O yeah, I write a blog.

Where do I start?  Everything is different.  Like so different that I am pretty sure I’m thin and awesome now.

Hmm…First off, I got a job.  I know right?  Awesome.

Well yes but its in Seattle.  Which means I am moving to the rainy state.  Isn’t that exactly where someone going through a massive depression should live?  Just keep the flannel and heroine away and I should be fine.  It’s not really all that different from San Francisco.  We don’t see the sun for weeks around here.

I’m also selling my house.  Thankfully there are some decent advantages to being OCD about labels and cleanliness when it comes to preparing for this.  I basically had to move a chair and call it a day.  Phew.  But That didn’t stop me from going insane trying to make everything perfect perfect.  I’ve been runnin around like a Mexican jumping bean cleaning, organizing, paring down, staging, and most importantly, boxing up all Mark’s shit and throwing it down the stairs.

O speaking of Mark, yeah he’s back in San Francisco.  Not here at the house, but here.  He’s chosen to take up residency in the area of SF we all lovingly refer to as the Tenderloin (aka, were you go to score your drugs).  We are being civil, but not talking.  Just dealing with the divorce and the house sale as if we are coworkers.  At this point, that’s about all I can handle.  He’s still lying, using, and self destructing and its killing me to watch it.

I am thinkin about getting a new blog.  This one seems a bit umm…shall we say…irrelevant?  Stay tuned.

So that’s me.  Thank you to everyone who’s checked in with me.  I miss you all too.  I’m just not the same person right now.  I’m some facsimile of BabyBound.  See?  I’m not even clever.  I hope to God that Mark didn’t get that in the divorce.  Cause that’s totally my thing not his.  He can have my bad spelling, emotional wreckness and inability to sleep well, but he can’t. have. my. whit.  (anyone else think my face should be half painted blue when they read that?  I did…)

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OK somebody had to

Do we reeeaaally need a sign on the front door telling us not to bring guns in the building? Ok ok so it might be somewhat helpful at any infertility clinic, but this is just your run of the mill office building!?!

Even better. The icon all the way to the right? No cameras. As. I. Take. Pictures. Of. It.

…and. The. Security. Guy. Steps. Out. Of. The. Way.

Just some good advice.

So…

Since I’ve been job hunting quite a bit recently, I realized that a lot of my “gut instincts” about bad jobs come from one very awesomely horrifying job I had a few years ago.  The owner of this strange company was so completely insane it was shocking he even knew how to read.  Actually, now that I think of it, I don’t remember ever seeing him read?….hmm.  I lasted a total of 6 weeks before I had had enough. And when my time was up, I did something so uncharacteristic of me that I still to this day have a hard time believing I really did it.  In one of 8 thousand meetings with the Mr. Crazy, I got up, walked out and never came back.  In the next few weeks, the rest of my peers followed suit – with the exception of one unlucky sole who is still there to keep us informed of all the madness.

I was recently catching up with my fellow peers in our annual support group and reflecting on the absurdity of this place. We were all discussing Mr. Crazy and his wild antics.  Including some of his more unusual interview techniques.  All of us should have known better, but for some reason, we didn’t. I now realize that it is my duty as a non crazy person to share with you some of the lessons we learned.

  1. If an interview isn’t longer than 10 minutes, umm, run.
  2. When you meet the owner of a company, he should spend time asking you questions.  If his upcoming wedding in the mountains of Kilimanjaro are the main topic of conversation – taking up 9 of the 10 minutes, politely exit to the restroom and run the fuck away.  (Sadly, the wedding was postponed because his dog was sick. “… Do you have any idea how hard it is to reschedule twenty Sherpas?!” )
  3. If at any time during the interview, a tour – given by the owner of the company – of a “wall of pride” with food products displayed that supposedly have the company logo somewhere on them leaves you wondering if you forgot to pay the entrance fee to this museum tour, this is not the right place for you.  Carefully guided tours by a man who speaks as though he has had years of experience as a guide – or game show host – aren’t normal first interview tactics.
  4. If the owner of the company has basically assumed that you’ve taken the job they offered, without actually offering you a job yet, and starts giving you assignments in your 10 minute interview, this means trouble.
  5. If he then calls you at home later that night and asks for you to complete work for him, again without officially offering you a job, get the heck outta dodge.
  6. If he insists that you read this “amazing book” written by “one of the leaders in the industry (of which you’ve never heard of)”, and when you start reading you realize that this book is so absurd and out of date you can’t believe it got published (o wait, it was self published of course), you should probably walk away.  Very quietly.  As to not wake the crazy man.
  7. If the company has a 99% turnover rate, and the few people you meet in that first 10 minute interview look as if they are peering out at you from behind a prison wall, you’re probably better off holding out for the next one.  If they themselves have all been there less than a month and this isn’t a startup, wow.  Go!
  8. If Mr. Crazy actually asks you for your past year’s W-9, to illustrate how much you earned at your last job  (which I’m pretty sure is illegal) then run.
  9. If you happen to meet Mr. Crazy’s right arm – a 4 pound raisin hopped up on an enormous amount of Starbucks who doesn’t believe in sleep, global warming or the earth being round, yeah really get away from that.
  10. If you are still not convinced that this man is nuts and you take the job, on your first day, at no point should the the words “I’ve decided that everyone needs to be here by 8am at the latest” be uttered.  Probably ok for some industries surely.  But mine?  Nobody is even awake at 8.  Nobody.
  11. If there is a “wish wall” in the kitchen that has a completely unrealistic wish by each of the inmates employees to be completed by Mr. Crazy when the site launches, you should really just laugh.  I mean cruises, plastic surgeries, bringing Grandma back from the dead?  Really Mr. C?  Really?!?!
  12. And finally, if you make the horrid mistake of telling this man that you are trying to have a baby and need to work from home for a bit because you are doing IVF, stuff cotton in your ears, take drugs, get loaded, whatever you have to do to avoid the spewing of gross baby advice involving sex on plains, keeping your legs up, his first wife’s miracle pregnancy because of some rare oat found in somewhere far, and his complete ignorance of all things normal and private.

There.  You’ve been warned.

Sometimes nature is funny

I guess they don’t want you to park there…

funny sign Pictures, Images and Photos

Welcome to San Francisco. Please follow me to the CT scan room…

Today is the day that marks the 2nd aniversary of our move to San Francisco.  It was on this day 2 years ago that we packed up the car, drove up here, moved into corporate housing and said wtf have we just done?

After our moment of panic, we walked across the big scary San Francisco street to the big scary San Francisco market and got ourselves some groceries.  Let me tell you, that Safeway market may have looked unassuming and oddly identical to every market in LA, but it was all new to us.  We were foreign and didn’t know the language.  (Is it ok to ask for plastic or is that bad here?  Do people not buy a whole lot at one time or is that considered stupid?  What are the rules!!!)

I remember it so well.  We bought a chicken. (those already made ones), some salad fixings and some frozen vegetables.  We were going to have a lovely meal in our new corporate-housing-for-30-days apartment.  It only took me one and a half hours in this new place to spill an entire bottle of salad dressing down the front of my shirt.  A vinaigrette.  With oil.  That stuff don’t wash out.  Crap.

While I was busy ruining my wordrobe so that I could explain my need for a new big city one easier, Mark was having some sort of reaction to the move and was unable to speak?, couldn’t see? which caused freaking out!  Awesome.  Our first day.  This place is terrifying.

It turned out to be nothing, but we got to spend the rest of our very first night in the big scary new city in the emergency room.  On St. Patrick’s Day.  Funny.  I’m surprised I’ve never blogged about that night before.  So much material….

Anywho…

Happy 2 year anniversary to me.  The city isn’t scary at all anymore.  In fact, its downright small.  We love it here.  (But could use less time in the ER and that would suite my taste just fine.)

And plastic bags are illegal here.  Its all paper.  So easy.

Pullin a Britney on MUNI

…so yesterday I was minding my own business on my way to work when I saw this:

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Seeing as I hate all things feet.  And all things gross.  And all things MUNI, this was a trifecta of fucking disgusting.  This woman was actually sitting on a subway train with no shoes or socks on.  Not even flip flops – something I myself choose never to wear in this germ tube.

I’m still having trouble with this.  I’m pretty sure an entire industrial sized container of hand sanitizer isn’t going to be enough to get me back to normal again.  Even if I bathed in it.  I can already feel the hepatitis growing in my legs and hands and I didn’t even sit near her.

From now on, I will probably be easy to point out on the train as I will be the one wearing this:

It really is the safest way to travel…


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