Muddled Mondays

Today was definitely one of those days where staying home, sleeping in and being lazy would have been a lovely thing to do.

It started with the Dog Whisperer. He has taken to letting the dogs out around 6 a.m. They inevitably run around yapping as they do every time they go outside. Unfortunately, they like to yap by their back gate which, sadly, is probably less than 20 feet from where my bed is inside my house. This means that not only do the beasts wake me up but they also get Rory and Sookie on edge.

When we did get up, it was to a very grey and gloomy day. Our forecast was for severe storms. We ended up just having lots and lots of heavy rain but even without the thunder and lightning, it was the type of weather that’s best enjoyed being lazy indoors.

Nevertheless, I went to work. It was a busy day. The solution to a grey and gloomy day is to be so busy that you don’t have time to think about it being a Monday. Because the other recruiter is out of the office due to his mother’s passing away, I’m the lone body trying to put people in jobs. This isn’t so bad- I like being busy. It’s just a little difficult when everyone wants me to do everything and there’s only so many hours in a day.

Still, I’d rather be swamped than sitting at my desk, twiddling my thumbs. It’s nice when you look at the clock and realize the day is passing in a blur.

On the downside, it was still one of those days that felt…muddled. Even though it began with a job offer for a candidate who badly wanted a job, it was one of those days where things just weren’t smooth. For this particular candidate, the company who wants him to work there is a huge pain in the bottom. Their HR manager is the type of person who expects everything done IMMEDIATELY. She wants things RIGHT NOW.

And yet when it’s her turn to provide information or something else, it takes ages. This is why our poor candidate has waited 2 months since his initial interview to find out if they actually wanted him. Even when we found out he’d got the job, we still didn’t know how much they wanted to pay him, when they wanted him to start and if they were going to have him work on a contract basis through us or they wanted him to start directly with them.

This makes it a little difficult to tell someone they have a job offer. It pretty much whittles down to, “Hey, X…good news. X Company wants to make you an offer. I don’t know how much money they’re offering, when you’d start or who you’ll actually be working for but, hey, none of that matters…right?”

Of course it matters. It’s hard to be vague when a job hangs in the balance. Still, the candidate was excited enough that he was happy to provide his own start date and salary requirements. Now all we need to do is hear back from the company.

This is the type of thing that can turn a day into a muddled mess very quickly. Also, when you have an interview scheduled for a candidate who doesn’t show up because he had a childcare emergency, that can also muddy up the schedule.

Then, finally, when you have to wait at work for a candidate to show up after hours, this can muddle up everything the most. It’s hard to wait because by around 5 p.m., I’m already planning on how I’ll go home, change into comfy clothes after having a happy reunion with the pups and vegging with a nice healthy but tasty dinner.

Still, as Mondays go, even with the muddle, it wasn’t a bad Monday. It was gloomy and grey. It was a little hectic but I’ll take that any day over a Monday that drags by without any type of forgiveness or redemption. Those days are tough. I actually miss the fact that the TV show “24” is no longer on Monday evenings- I’m still convinced that it was a marketing strategy to say, “Hey, you think YOU’RE having a bad day? Jack Bauer is having a WAY worse one than you.”

Jack Bauer was usually having a worse day than me. My bad Mondays usually consist of slowness at work, irritating but non-severe problems and work and a general desire to be anywhere but where I am. Jack Bauer’s bad days had things like decapitating suspects with hacksaws, having to deal with radiation sickness, watching your wife be murdered by your partner and finding out your daughter was held hostage by a mountain lion.

You can see how all that can make me feel a little shallow when I wine about being tired and cranky because my candidate didn’t show up for an interview. What’s that compared to having to singlehandedly save the U.S. at least a couple of times a year on a really bad day?

I miss Jack Bauer. He made me appreciate the goodness in a bad day. Also, he made me wonder simple things like whether he had to go to the toilet, whether he ate food or if he ever just went to bed and stayed there for a week or two without worrying if evil enemies would find him hiding underneath he covers.

Even though Jack Bauer is no longer around to put things in perspective, I’m learning to try to appreciate Mondays for what they are. At best, they’re good days that don’t feel like a Monday. At worst, they’re a day full of faltering before the week begins to hit its stride.

While I didn’t get to stay home and be lazy with the pups, I think going to work and getting things done was a good alternative.

Even if it wasn’t nearly as comfy.

Happy Tuesday!

The Decline of Quality TV....

It was another dreary day today. It rained a little but mostly it just threatened to pour without actually doing more than spitting at times.

It wasn't as bad in the office though. My coworker was out which means there was a little less interruption than normal. While I don't mind a chat, we tend to use Instant Messaging in our office to communicate without disrupting others. My coworker gets rather bored and likes to IM me to tell me she's bored. Yesterday, she spent 30 minutes discussing a haircut. She has short hair. It's not a very interesting subject, particualarly when you're trying to work on a project that requires toggling between two windows and when an IM window pops up, it ruins the toggling.

Still, today wasn't bad which is always a good thing at work. Tuesdays are nice merely because they're not Mondays. Besides, they're good TV nights. Well, for now, at least. My very favourite show, Lost is coming to a final end this coming Sunday. Even though I admit that my relationship with the show hit a rocky patch in Season 3, once I gave it another chance, I became completely addicted. Just don't ever try to watch the show without watching every single episode because it will never, ever make sense. Well, actually, to be honest, even if you watch every episode, it doesn't really make sense but I'm hoping it will. If not, well, it's been fun anyway.

Lost isn't the only show ending for good. Jack Bauer and 24 are ending next Monday for good. It's high time in Jack's case. Last night, he did a very good Iron Man impersonation which would was quite funny except he wasn't supposed to be funny. It was quite entertaining though. Our Jack has gone rogue (yet again) and he's out for blood. He's also reached the stage where he is now officially a superhero, moving at the speed of light, delivering death like an out-of-breath avenging stubbled-beaten and worn angel Also, he's never, ever stopped to go to the toilet and, well, if that doesn't make you a superhero, I don't know what does.

Both of those shows are due for their end. However, there are others that aren't returning next season which I'm sad about. I am one of the people who anticipated FlashForward because I was hoping it was the next Lost. Well, it isn't but, for the most part, it's been interesting and entertaining. I was hoping it would get renewed so it would find its footing completely. If they'd just have lost that whole government-conspiracy-that-caused-an-ordinary-ex-alcoholic-to-sneak-into-Afghanistan-and-rescue-his-kidnapped-soldier-daughter, it would have been WAY better. Still, I'm sad it's over. Also, I've been increasingly fascinated to watch it and see how many more European actors they can add. Seriously, many of the actors on there are English and every week, there's a new one. It's quite fascinating. The male lead, Joseph Fiennes, is a Brit. His wife on the show, a former Lost actress is also British. Her lover on the show, played by Jack Davenport...also British. His science partner is played by Dominic Monaghan who is Scottish. The ex-alcoholic rescuer man...Irish. The new villain...British. You get the idea. It's quite entertaining, actually.

I was sad that they cancelled that show and renewed V instead. I tried to want to watch V but, well, after the pilot, I accumulated a ton of episodes on my DVR and never wanted to watch it so I just realized that there was no point in keeping them. It just couldn't keep my interest.

It seems like networks are giving new shows far less chance to succeed. My parents are fans of both Mercy and Miami Medical, both medical dramas that were new this TV season. I've watched both and they're both entertaining but, apparently, they didn't have enough of an audience to keep them going and they're both cancelled.

It's sad. There's more and more reality TV popping up and less and less quality 'fictional' series. I know it's to do with budget. It's far cheaper to follow an annoying quasi-celebrity around and watch him/her make an idiot out of his/herself than it is to get good writers, good actors and a good crew together to make a real TV show. It seems as though the guilty pleasure shows have become the norm and real TV is fading away. I still watch Glee but I worry about that show a little. It was fun and original when it started but now it's a powerhouse hit and it's spinning off more CD's than American Idol. I used to like American Idol but it's become a formulaic little show these days. There are stereotypes that are filled every season: The rocker, the country-singer, the folksy-earthy one, the girl who can sing rock songs but still surprise with a ballad, the nerdy little boy with a big voice....it's just boring these days and without the insanity of the questionably-drunk Paula Abdul, it's lost its sense of humour. I've flipped it on before another show starts and it's just nothing but filler or the kids talking about how the song they're singing is important to them because, you know, it's, like, well, they can just feel the song inside them.

I'm rambling. My point is...what's going to happen to TV? Sure, the good stuff is still on cable. There's still True Blood and Dexter to look forward to this summer. But the regular old quality TV, the type you don't need a satellite dish to access is fading slowly away from the networks and being replaced by dancing, singing, boss-trying-to-be-one-of-the-people, wife-swapping, bachelor(ette)-seeking-love type of shows.

I know in the grand scheme of things, TV isn't exactly a necessary thing in life. Yet, for me, it does enhance my life by providing a little escapism. After a bad day at work, there's nothing more therapeutic than watching Jack Bauer eviscerate a Russian terrorist. There's nothing more fun than trying to figure out what exactly Lost is really about. In short, it's just a fun way to relax and if I didn't have it, I'd miss it.

Still, for tonight, at least, I shall kick back and enjoy the last regularly scheduled episode of Lost...ever. The thought makes me sad but there's nothing I can do about it.

Maybe something will come along next season that will get me just as hooked. There's always hope.

As always, thanks for reading. Happy Wednesday!

I am not Derron in Disguise...I Promise!

Happy Monday. True to form, it's a gloomy, cold day with a chance of snow. In fact, it was snowing a little when I came in this morning. I know that if it actually does snow, my coworkers and family will most likely blame me. Apparently the snow dance that I do with my dog, Sausage, has become infamous. I don't dance with him anymore, just saying the words "Snow, Sausage!" excitedly seems to bring snow. I accidentally did that last weekend without thinking. Don't tell anyone.

Aside from it being a Monday and thus it being a naturally sluggish day, I'm a little sleepy this morning. You see, I'm being stalked on the telephone.

It started last night. I was just watching an episode of "MI-5", one of my favourite BBC television shows, on DVD. I was enjoying it because it was an episode with a lot of Adam Carter in it. Confession time, I think Adam Carter might be my dream man. He's an MI-5 spy, a tortured soul but strong and confident and, also, he saves England quite a lot. Picture Jack Bauer, make him a lot more dashing, British and less breathless and you have something like Adam Carter. Not that Jack isn't a good hero because, well, I can't picture Adam saying "Get me a hacksaw!" in order to cut off someone's head. No, Adam would most likely try to stop the decapitation but then order someone else to do it instead. He's a good delegator, that Adam.

Yes, I digress. Anyway, so I was watching "MI-5" and my home phone rings. This is a rare event. I mostly use my cell phone. In fact, I only have a home phone number because I decided to keep my L.A. number for my cell and thought I should probably have a local phone number as well. Also, it was part of my Verizon Home Internet package. So, when my home phone rings, I usually answer it expecting it to be either my friend who lives in the same apartment complex or a salesman. Even though I'm on that "National Do Not Call Registry" thingy, there are still some solicitations that slip through the cracks. Very annoying but nowhere near as frequent as before I was on the registry.

When I answered the phone, a little old lady was there. She warbled, "Derron?" I said..."No, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number." She said, "Sorry," and hung up.

Two minutes later, I'm watching Adam Carter have a fight with a terrorist and my phone rings again. "Hello?" I say. "Is Derron there?" the lady says. "No," I say. "This is the same number you called before. I'm afraid Derron doesn't live here."

She says, "Oh." We hang up. A minute later, my phone rings again. I don't want to tell the lady that Derron doesn't live at the number she's calling again. So I let my answer phone pick up. My answering machine (and yes, I still have one) says, "Hello, you've reached [Captain Monkeypants], I'm not available right now so please leave a message after the beep and I'll call you back." It says MY NAME and so you would assume that anyone calling would hear that and think, "Oh, oops, wrong number."

Not so with Ms. Persistance. She hangs up on the answering machine. Then she calls back. She hangs up. By now, as you can imagine, I'm a little fed up of momentarily getting engrossed in "MI-5" only to have it interrupted by the Derron-seeker.

Side note, I know someone named Derron. He lives in California. I wonder if for some reason, the world is so small the lady was trying to reach that Derron. I doubt it but stranger things have happened.

There is silence for a while. I finally relax, thinking she's given up. Nope. Five minutes of silence and then my phone rings again. I confess, I was irritated at this point. I had thought of turning my ringer off but I couldn't help thinking that since it isn't MY fault she keeps dialing the wrong number, I shouldn't be the one to have to take action. Silly me, being so logical.

So, this time, I pick up the phone and snap, "Hello." "Derron?" she says. "No!" I say. "Derron does NOT live here. You keep dialing the WRONG number. I've had this number for six months and Derron has not lived here." She bleats, "Derron [last name]?" By the way, it's not the Derron I know in California. Shocker, I know.

By this point, I'm annoyed but I realize that shouting at a little old lady isn't very nice. So I try to take the irritation out of my voice. "No," I said, as calmly as I can manage. "Derron does live here." "Is your phone number ***-****?" says the lady. "Yes," I respond. "That is my number. Perhaps Derron lives in another area code."

"Derron isn't there?" she says. This is when I feel my temper rise. I've tried to be nice. I've tried ignoring her. She's not listening. "NO!" I say. "I'm sorry, lady, but Derron DOES NOT LIVE HERE!" This time, my irritation must have been apparent. "I'm sorry," she says. Her voice starts quivering. I instantally feel like a horrible, horrible person. "It's ok," I say, trying to sound nice. "You just have the wrong number."

"I'm sorry," she says again. "But Derron isn't there?" I sigh. "No," I say. "You should try calling information." Sadly, she says, "Why would he give me this number if it's not his?" Naturally, because I'm not a nice, sweet Monkeypants all the time, my mind instantly thinks, "maybe because Derron knew you'd never get off the phone?" I don't say that though. I just let her ponder it for a moment.

She hangs up, finally. I hang up. I have ten minutes of lovely peace and uninterrupted "MI-5". Then, ten minutes later, she's back. I let my answering machine get it. I have no more energy. I feel really bad that she can't find Derron, that she clearly is desperate to reach him. On the fourth call back, I snatch up the phone, openly hostile now and say, "Sorry, Derron still doesn't live here." There's nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of a TV. Perhaps it was Derron. I'll never know.

Finally, the calls stop. I'm relieved to say the least. I go to bed and I sleep. As I mentioned on Friday, I haven't been sleeping well. While I was able to sleep better this weekend, I still woke up a couple of times. Last night, I slept solidly until about 6 a.m. when I was awoken by...you've guessed it, my home phone was ringing.

I keep my phone in my living room but I'm a light sleeper and while a distant phone shouldn't wake me up...it does and it did. Sleepily, I listen to see if the caller leaves a message. I might be awake but I'm not about to get out of bed unless it's an emergency. It wasn't. It was the little old lady. Even though my message clearly states MY name, she left a message somewhere along the lines of, "Derron, you need to call me. I want to talk to you."

I thought, "Oh, great, now she's leaving him messages." I started to get back to sleep when...she called back. Again. This time, she is very angry and she's actually shouting at Derron on my machine. This time, she said "Derron, I don't know why you're not calling me back but you gave me the wrong number. Call me. Now." She was furious.

Naturally, so was I because I couldn't get back to sleep. Even though I get up around 6:45 a.m. anyway, it was still 45 minutes of sleep that I lost. I don't know how many other ways to tell this lady to stop calling me. I'm wondering, exactly, how many messages Derron will have when I get home. I don't have caller ID so I can't even figure out where she's calling from.

So, Derron, whoever you are, if you live in Southwestern Ohio and you've got a little old lady friend who is looking for you, please call her. Seriously, PLEASE call her. I know you might be trying to avoid her and all, and, truthfully, I can see why. She is one persistant lady. Sometimes persistance does pay off but if you've dialed a number ten times and each time it does not belong to Derron, perhaps you should....stop calling. It's a thought, at least.

I'm hoping that tonight while I attempt to spend my Monday hour with Jack Bauer, Little Old Lady Persistance does not try to reach Derron. I'm hoping that perhaps Derron has reached her. If not, I'm hoping that somewhere between my first telling her that Derron does not, in fact, live at the number she keeps dialing and her angry recorded message to Derron on MY machine, she realizes that Captain Monkeypants is not, in fact, Derron in disguise and that I'm not deliberately lying to her about Derron's whereabouts. By now, trust me, if I knew where Derron is, I'd tell her. Oh yes, I'd tell her.

Sadly, I don't think she'd listen. C'est la vie.

Happy Monday.

Election Day Rules!*

So it's election day today. I think it's a reason to celebrate. I say, everyone have a party because it's election day.

You might think, wow, Captain Monkeypants is surprisingly patriotic. And then you might scratch your head and say...but isn't Captain Monkeypants...British?

Yes. I am. Rule Brittania!

I wish I could confess to patriotism being the reason that I love election day. But that would be untrue. And since there are enough politicians out there being untrue today, I feel I should endorse honesty and truth as part of this good day.

And so the reason I love Election Day is not because of the amazing amount of traffic gathered in unpredictable clusters around voting locations, not because it means we'll have a new president soon and not because it means House isn't on tonight because of election coverage.

It's because of the ads. Tomorrow, they will stop. Tomorrow, I will be able to turn on my TV and see advertisements for Mastercard (Priceless!), Verizon (Can you hear me now?), Olive Garden (When you're here, you're family!) and all the other mindless materialism that usually invades our culture. But there won't be any more political ads.

I don't have TiVo. I'm an old fashioned Monkeypants. I like to use my dvd recorder or, gasp, that ancient invention: The VCR. So, generally, I watch TV live if I can. Which means there are lots of political advertisements. No, not lots, thousands upon thousands. There are ads telling me to vote for a proposition to build a big casino resort in Ohio. And then, right after that ad, there's one telling me why I shouldn't vote for the casino. There's an ad for a politician citing all of the reasons he should be elected, a shiny audio resume in a 30 second spot. This is immediately followed by an ad for his oponent that is the anti-resume for the oponent who just had me convinced he was a good guy. I'm so confused!

I get it. Politics are a dirty business. Mudslinging is a necessary part of it. Nowadays, the mud slinging happens on the radio, on TV, on the Internet...even in the newspaper. Being nice doesn't work. Eventually, even the nice politicians have to play dirty. It's not right to let another politician look better than you. It makes sense. Who cares what the issues at stake are when a political opponent can easily drudge up past faults and mistakes, even if they were years ago?

I just don't want to see Obama being a good little boy scout, seeing his baby pictures and seeing what a good family man he is. Just as I don't want to hear one more word about John McCain and how experienced he is. We KNOW he's been around a long time. I mean, no offense but he's really old for a president. I mean, I'd like to think he's got hidden Mick-Jagger/Steven Tyler energy, still able to do a somersault across the stage as he ends a debate. Yet he's not. He's so old that I'm a little afraid he might not make it through his first term of office. Then we'd have President Palin which is a little scary, mostly because she sounds frighteningly like Marge in Fargo. I wonder if she has wood chipper in her backyard...

Uh, I'm digressing. This isn't a blog in which I'm going to spew my opinion on who I think should be president. I don't get to vote and thus, it's not fair of me to have an opinion. If I don't like it, I should become a U.S. Citizen and take a stand. But I think it's ok for me to make fun of the politicians I see in the ads. McCain is old. Obama has big ears. Palin sounds like she should be holding an ice-fishing pole all the time and Biden...well, I don't know much about Biden. I probably should have paid more attention to the ads.

But, darn it all, the ads will be done tonight! I'll be able to drive through town and not be assaulted by political signs everywhere. A local bar had a big McCain banner above the sign. The font looked like the logo for McCain French Fries. McCain make good frozen potatoes. I particularly like the Smiles- happy faced potato treats that are crispy on the outside and mashed on the inside. McCain Smile potatoes are excellent. When I saw the banner, I thought, cool! I didn't know bars endorsed frozen potatoes. And then I realized this it was a political sign.

There is a reason I don't vote. I know every vote counts and that, by not making myself eligible, I'm part of what's wrong with the U.S. But I pay taxes so I'm not a complete loss. And I do have a green card so I'm not an illegal immigrant. I respect the fact that U.S. allows me to live here and yet stay loyal to Britain. I really appreciate that when I fly to London- customs are a breeze. A UK passport gets me easy access to the UK and my green card lets me come back with the Americans. And since I hate airports, that's endorsement enough for me to give up the right to say who should be president.

If I had my way, it would be Jack Bauer anyway. He'd be too busy saving the world to sling mud. And he seems to be invincible because he's been shot, stabbed and maimed. A lot. And yet he still comes back swinging. Also, he's great with a hacksaw. What more could you want in a president?

Happy Election Day, everyone. Happy Voting.

*Note for the politically minded. This is supposed to be funny. I do not mean to offend. I endorse democracy. Democracy means I can eat McCain Smiles and enjoy brussel sprout sandwiches as much as I like. Also, it means I can choose to give myself the right to vote or not. I admire those who vote for the fact that they're taking a stand and taking the time out to make a change. Be the change you want to see in the world. Thanks for reading!