My name is Ahmad and I work in cultural exchange.
The main reason I wanted to work in cultural exchange is because once upon a time in a galaxy far far away when I was a stray little pup I came to the US as an exchange student. I am sucker for using my personal experience to help others who are going through the same or similar thing--otherwise, what's the point? Right? Why did I go through all these ups and downs in my life? It has to be for something...I don't have kids and don't want kids...never will!! So I might as well use myself as an example to others.
Anyway, so I work in cultural exchange. It sounds very noble, doesn't it? "Cultural Exchange" sounds like bringing the world together, helping people understand one another beyond borders, oceans, religion, politics, or what have you. Sounds pretty idealistic too. Now, mind you, there are very non-idealistic things associated with this very idealistic career. There is: making a placement--basically like closing a sale; you present a student to a family, they life student, present student to school, they like student, complete paperwork, student comes, the world is a better place.
Unfortunately, it's not quite that easy! You have to advertise program...fliers, ads, brochures, cold calls, telemarketing, door to door, lawn signs, buttons, PSAs, classified ads...yadda yadda yadda. Then after fielding calls and saying no for the umpteenth time about host families NOT being paid, you end up with a handful of people that are as idealistic as you are and want to host for the cultural exchange part of it--not for renting out a room or supplementing their income.
Still, all this doesn't sound too bad when you write it all down. It all sounds pretty normal actually. Every job has it's annoying sides. This one is no different than any other. Except...except when you encounter people who are supposed to be your allies...on your side...your brethren...who have become so jaded that it makes you wonder what the hell happened?
I have a family who is so genuine about wanting to host as student it is refreshing talking to them. Their sixth grader was so excited about having a sister from another country she could barely sleep at night from excitement. They settled on a student who is so cute, and so studious, and so bright and cheerful that she could brighten up any room. As usual, I presented her application to the school for review. Now, presenting a student to a school is usually the nerve wracking side of my job. A school can reject a student if they don't think their English is good enough, or if they have too many "C"s or maybe a "D" here and there. The student might seem too introverted, or interested in sports or activities not available at the school. Or they might deny a student because they feel the school might be too difficult for that student to succeed.
All these reasons are fair I think. BUT, that is not why this particular school turned my student down. They turned her down because they have too many South Koreans. They said "we will decline this request. Our effort to secure foreign exchange students includes adding to the richness of cultures represented here... We have a very large Korean presence already..."
So, screw the student's own merits!! She might be bright, she might be studious, she might be the Queen of Sheba for all they care...doesn't matter, they have too many of them Koreans there we can't possibly look past this student's country of origin and consider her actual characteristics as a student...BECAUSE WE'RE A SCHOOL AND THIS IS WHAT WE ARE ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO F'IN DO!!!!!!
I see no difference in saying that than saying sorry we're not letting you on a plane because you're name is Ahmad and one of the terrorists during 9/11 was named Ahmed and he was from Egypt. Or saying, sorry, you're black, and we have way too many black people at that school so we can't possibly look past your skin color and actually evaluate your application based on your accomplishments. Or, we have to put all these Japanese Americans in jail because the people that bombed Pearl Harbor were Japanese.
I'm angry...Angry and frustrated actually. I have a really bad taste in my mouth from the whole thing. Is this the end of my idealism? Probably. But you know what frustrates me more? It is that I have to let it go and move on. She that family another student...never mind that their little girl stayed up all night painting banners and pictures for that specific student. I have to shrug it off as "school discretion" and move on to the next student. I have to just shrug my shoulders and send that family an Italian, German, or Czech student to consider. Because I am willing to bet anything that that school doesn't have enough of those students.
My name is Ahmad and I am a recovering idealist...
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Goodbye Rotary
Tomorrow is my last day at Rotary and I feel like I need to write a blog about it. I just don't know what the hell I'm supposed to write. I feel apprehensive about leaving, yet relieved...I feel jittery, yet excited...pensive, yet calm...So, basically, I'm a big bundle of nerves, typical.
I've always been a big worry wart and this is no different. The new place I will go to work is a small non-profit organization specializing in youth exchange. Being a former exchange student myself, I feel very strongly about youth exchange and think this is going to be a very good career change for me. I anticipate that I am going to learn a lot, and in time, be able to contribute a lot to the organization and my own professional and personal growth. I just need to be able to process the pressure, and the expectations....
I was invited to the annual conference for my new employer and I gladly went. I was thrust into a world of volunteers, guest speakers addressing issues of culture shock...well, and all that good stuff. I observed and interacted, talked, kept my mouth shut, and as always, got excited and my mind was racing with all these ideas, suggestions...way too much over stimulation for my own good I think. I shared my ideas with my new boss to be and she was really receptive. But a week after I returned, I guess, they felt the need to meet with me to make sure they did not misconstrue or represent what my job really was. They wanted to make clear that, while they are not as formal as Rotary, they are still formal and work is expected to get done. They wanted to make sure that I understood that they are not just hiring me, expect me to develop training material and send me out there to just train people...
Well, DUH!!! That sort of took me by surprise and I will be honest when I say that I am still trying to process it. I didn't have a session scheduled with my therapist but I called and scheduled one because I need help processing it. The meeting with my future employers reminded me of when my manager once told that I appear like I am a know it all...and later referred to me as cheeky in a limerick. It took me a couple of therapy sessions to sift through that one. So, I am wondering, how in the hell did I give the impression that I thought I will be coming into this new job and throwing all their material out and making new shit up....how in the hell did I seem like a know it all again...or did I?
Maybe they were just being cautious and wanted to reiterate what the position was and how it will be. I am actually pretty sure that that's what the meeting was all about. I actually appreciate it..but, of course, that does not exempt me from freaking out about it because that is what I do...I freak out, I worry, I get the runs, headaches, migraines, acid reflux and achy jaw...that's what I do.
Of course, I am in prove myself mode, which will drive my poor therapist nuts. I have it as my personal mission to prove myself worthy...damn it!! Here I go wanting to prove that I am worth it again. Damn Damn Damn!!
So, all these thoughts are going through my head as I prepare to leave Rotary and venture out to what I anticipate, and hope, to be a more challenging, rewarding, and fulfilling career move. It is bitter sweet since I love my coworkers and have built a rapport and dynamic with them that is so strong and so unique that I will miss. But, c'est la vie...
Next time I write, I hope to be much calmer and less neurotic...at least for a little bit!!
I've always been a big worry wart and this is no different. The new place I will go to work is a small non-profit organization specializing in youth exchange. Being a former exchange student myself, I feel very strongly about youth exchange and think this is going to be a very good career change for me. I anticipate that I am going to learn a lot, and in time, be able to contribute a lot to the organization and my own professional and personal growth. I just need to be able to process the pressure, and the expectations....
I was invited to the annual conference for my new employer and I gladly went. I was thrust into a world of volunteers, guest speakers addressing issues of culture shock...well, and all that good stuff. I observed and interacted, talked, kept my mouth shut, and as always, got excited and my mind was racing with all these ideas, suggestions...way too much over stimulation for my own good I think. I shared my ideas with my new boss to be and she was really receptive. But a week after I returned, I guess, they felt the need to meet with me to make sure they did not misconstrue or represent what my job really was. They wanted to make clear that, while they are not as formal as Rotary, they are still formal and work is expected to get done. They wanted to make sure that I understood that they are not just hiring me, expect me to develop training material and send me out there to just train people...
Well, DUH!!! That sort of took me by surprise and I will be honest when I say that I am still trying to process it. I didn't have a session scheduled with my therapist but I called and scheduled one because I need help processing it. The meeting with my future employers reminded me of when my manager once told that I appear like I am a know it all...and later referred to me as cheeky in a limerick. It took me a couple of therapy sessions to sift through that one. So, I am wondering, how in the hell did I give the impression that I thought I will be coming into this new job and throwing all their material out and making new shit up....how in the hell did I seem like a know it all again...or did I?
Maybe they were just being cautious and wanted to reiterate what the position was and how it will be. I am actually pretty sure that that's what the meeting was all about. I actually appreciate it..but, of course, that does not exempt me from freaking out about it because that is what I do...I freak out, I worry, I get the runs, headaches, migraines, acid reflux and achy jaw...that's what I do.
Of course, I am in prove myself mode, which will drive my poor therapist nuts. I have it as my personal mission to prove myself worthy...damn it!! Here I go wanting to prove that I am worth it again. Damn Damn Damn!!
So, all these thoughts are going through my head as I prepare to leave Rotary and venture out to what I anticipate, and hope, to be a more challenging, rewarding, and fulfilling career move. It is bitter sweet since I love my coworkers and have built a rapport and dynamic with them that is so strong and so unique that I will miss. But, c'est la vie...
Next time I write, I hope to be much calmer and less neurotic...at least for a little bit!!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Torture and Rape by Egyptian Police
The following is taken in its entirety from http://arabist.net/arabawy/2006/12/09/victim-of-police-rape-video-identified/
The video of these two specifc torture incidents is on the same link (viewer discretion advised).
I take my hat off to journalist Wael Abdel Fattah, of the independent weekly Al-Fagr, who’s been crusading for the past couple of weeks against the ” Egyptian Interior Ministry’s secret organization of torturers.”Wael broke the exclusive about the identity of the officer who appeared in the “slapping video.”
His name is Lieutenant Mustafa Shehata, of El-Haram Police Station in Giza. Though an Interior Minister official told Wael, the officer was under “administrative detention,” it turned out the officer was still working at the station, but was under “administrative investigation.”
Yesterday, Sharqawi reported Al-Fagr made another breakthrough… this time, Wael managed to identify the victim in the rape video.
Wael initially received a tip that the rape video might have been filmed in Omraniya Police Station, Giza. The abused citizen, Wael was told, was a microbus driver. Wael passed the lead to his colleague Kamal Mourad, who combed for three days the microbuses station in Omraniya, with no success. Last Wednesday, however, Kamal received an anonymous call on his mobile phone, informing him that the driver worked at Nahia bus station, which follows Boulaq al-Dakrour Police Station.Kamal went to the bus station, only to discover fear among drivers. The police agents, he said, distributed the video among drivers as a way of humiliating the driver who appeared in the film, and terrorize the rest of the drivers into submission to police rule.Kamal discovered the victim’s name was Emad Mohamed Ali Kabeer, holder of a preparatory school degree (E’adadiya), and the second among nine brothers and sisters.Emad’s source of income is a microbus, and lives with his family in one of Kerdassa’s village. His father, according to Wael, passed away after he learned what happened to his son.
Interviewing him was not easy, as Emad has been terrorized and traumatized after his experience. He fears speaking, especially after he received recently phone calls from the interior ministry threatening him if he spoke of his ordeal, after the video surfaced to the Egyptian blogosphere and caused uproar in the independent press. Emad, according to Al-Fagr, was told what happened to him will be repeated to other members of his family.With difficulty, Emad told Al-Fagr, the rape incident goes back to 13 January 2006, when while driving he spotted two unknown individuals in plainclothes beating his cousin, Ahmad el-Sayyed Ali, a butane gas pipes seller. When Emad enquired why they were assaulting Ahmad, one of the attackers took out a gun, and started hitting him, and took him to Nahia Police Station, where he learned the attacker was Ashraf Abdel Maqsoud, an officer with the Supplies Department (Shortet el-Tamween).Emad tried to ask for help from an officer he knew at the station called Mohamed Hassanein, but the latter declined.
Inside Nahia Police Station, the corporals and the soldiers organized a torture party for Emad, where they beat him with sticks, till he fell on the floor, then started kicking them with their shoes, showering him with insults.He was later taken to Boulaq el-Dakrour Police Station, where he was locked up for seven days.On the eight, he was raped…Emad was taken to a room inside the police station, where his rape was supervised by officer Islam Nabih, the Assistant Sheriff, and was videotaped by Police Corporal Reda Fathi el-Sayyed, according to Al-Fagr.Emad told Al-Fagr the torture fiesta started by severe beatings till he fell on the ground. Seven corporals took rounds in kicking him, after his feet were tied by a metal chain, and hands handcuffed. His feet were lifted up, by some machine attached to the room’s door.Clothes covering his lower bottom were torn by the corporals, who started whipping him, till he almost passed out. That’s when they took him down, untied him, and asked him to say: “I am a woman. I am a fag.”Despite his pleas, his torturers continued…The corporals rubbed some cream into his anal opening, and then inserted a wooden stick into it, while videotaping him by a mobile phone camera. This went on for an hour, Emad told Al-Fagr. After that, he was left on the floor in one of the room’s corners.The police fabricated charges of “resisting the authorities,” where Police Officer Mohamed Hassanein testified against Emad. Emad was released later, and decided o keep his mouth shut about what happened. However, two months ago he said he was told by a fellow driver that he saw the rape video on a mobile phone. He assumed the police wanted to humiliate him in public.
Still he kept his silence, until his elder brother was arrested for refusing to pay LE5 to a police agent… His mother had gone to Boulaq el-Dakrour Police Station to enquire after the reason for her eldest son’s arrest; she was insulted, and kicked out of the station by the deputy sheriff who threatened to issue a detention order. Emad then decided to make a copy of the video, and went to the Inteiror Minister’s house in Lebanon Sq, Mohandessin, and gave it to the officer in charge of the minister’s security. The officer made a phone call for few minutes. He told Emad to go to the Complaints Department at the Interior Ministry, in Lazoughli Sq.Emad went, and spoke with senior Interior Ministry officers. Half an hour after leaving the building, he received a call on his mobile from his brother, saying “They released me.”However, Emad was arrested on his way home, and taken again to Boulaq Police Station, where he was met by General Abdel Wahab Khalil, Director of Giza Investigation Police, and his deputy General Gad Gameel. They interrogated him for two days, last Sunday and Monday, and then transferred him to the Boulaq Prosecutor’s office in 6th of October City. Emad was told by the prosecutor that the General Prosecutor asked for dropping the case. Other senior security officials, Emad was too scared to mention their names, asked him to drop the case. So Emad did that, citing his fears of the police fabricating drug charges against him, and threats of harming members of his family.
The video of these two specifc torture incidents is on the same link (viewer discretion advised).
I take my hat off to journalist Wael Abdel Fattah, of the independent weekly Al-Fagr, who’s been crusading for the past couple of weeks against the ” Egyptian Interior Ministry’s secret organization of torturers.”Wael broke the exclusive about the identity of the officer who appeared in the “slapping video.”
His name is Lieutenant Mustafa Shehata, of El-Haram Police Station in Giza. Though an Interior Minister official told Wael, the officer was under “administrative detention,” it turned out the officer was still working at the station, but was under “administrative investigation.”
Yesterday, Sharqawi reported Al-Fagr made another breakthrough… this time, Wael managed to identify the victim in the rape video.
Wael initially received a tip that the rape video might have been filmed in Omraniya Police Station, Giza. The abused citizen, Wael was told, was a microbus driver. Wael passed the lead to his colleague Kamal Mourad, who combed for three days the microbuses station in Omraniya, with no success. Last Wednesday, however, Kamal received an anonymous call on his mobile phone, informing him that the driver worked at Nahia bus station, which follows Boulaq al-Dakrour Police Station.Kamal went to the bus station, only to discover fear among drivers. The police agents, he said, distributed the video among drivers as a way of humiliating the driver who appeared in the film, and terrorize the rest of the drivers into submission to police rule.Kamal discovered the victim’s name was Emad Mohamed Ali Kabeer, holder of a preparatory school degree (E’adadiya), and the second among nine brothers and sisters.Emad’s source of income is a microbus, and lives with his family in one of Kerdassa’s village. His father, according to Wael, passed away after he learned what happened to his son.
Interviewing him was not easy, as Emad has been terrorized and traumatized after his experience. He fears speaking, especially after he received recently phone calls from the interior ministry threatening him if he spoke of his ordeal, after the video surfaced to the Egyptian blogosphere and caused uproar in the independent press. Emad, according to Al-Fagr, was told what happened to him will be repeated to other members of his family.With difficulty, Emad told Al-Fagr, the rape incident goes back to 13 January 2006, when while driving he spotted two unknown individuals in plainclothes beating his cousin, Ahmad el-Sayyed Ali, a butane gas pipes seller. When Emad enquired why they were assaulting Ahmad, one of the attackers took out a gun, and started hitting him, and took him to Nahia Police Station, where he learned the attacker was Ashraf Abdel Maqsoud, an officer with the Supplies Department (Shortet el-Tamween).Emad tried to ask for help from an officer he knew at the station called Mohamed Hassanein, but the latter declined.
Inside Nahia Police Station, the corporals and the soldiers organized a torture party for Emad, where they beat him with sticks, till he fell on the floor, then started kicking them with their shoes, showering him with insults.He was later taken to Boulaq el-Dakrour Police Station, where he was locked up for seven days.On the eight, he was raped…Emad was taken to a room inside the police station, where his rape was supervised by officer Islam Nabih, the Assistant Sheriff, and was videotaped by Police Corporal Reda Fathi el-Sayyed, according to Al-Fagr.Emad told Al-Fagr the torture fiesta started by severe beatings till he fell on the ground. Seven corporals took rounds in kicking him, after his feet were tied by a metal chain, and hands handcuffed. His feet were lifted up, by some machine attached to the room’s door.Clothes covering his lower bottom were torn by the corporals, who started whipping him, till he almost passed out. That’s when they took him down, untied him, and asked him to say: “I am a woman. I am a fag.”Despite his pleas, his torturers continued…The corporals rubbed some cream into his anal opening, and then inserted a wooden stick into it, while videotaping him by a mobile phone camera. This went on for an hour, Emad told Al-Fagr. After that, he was left on the floor in one of the room’s corners.The police fabricated charges of “resisting the authorities,” where Police Officer Mohamed Hassanein testified against Emad. Emad was released later, and decided o keep his mouth shut about what happened. However, two months ago he said he was told by a fellow driver that he saw the rape video on a mobile phone. He assumed the police wanted to humiliate him in public.
Still he kept his silence, until his elder brother was arrested for refusing to pay LE5 to a police agent… His mother had gone to Boulaq el-Dakrour Police Station to enquire after the reason for her eldest son’s arrest; she was insulted, and kicked out of the station by the deputy sheriff who threatened to issue a detention order. Emad then decided to make a copy of the video, and went to the Inteiror Minister’s house in Lebanon Sq, Mohandessin, and gave it to the officer in charge of the minister’s security. The officer made a phone call for few minutes. He told Emad to go to the Complaints Department at the Interior Ministry, in Lazoughli Sq.Emad went, and spoke with senior Interior Ministry officers. Half an hour after leaving the building, he received a call on his mobile from his brother, saying “They released me.”However, Emad was arrested on his way home, and taken again to Boulaq Police Station, where he was met by General Abdel Wahab Khalil, Director of Giza Investigation Police, and his deputy General Gad Gameel. They interrogated him for two days, last Sunday and Monday, and then transferred him to the Boulaq Prosecutor’s office in 6th of October City. Emad was told by the prosecutor that the General Prosecutor asked for dropping the case. Other senior security officials, Emad was too scared to mention their names, asked him to drop the case. So Emad did that, citing his fears of the police fabricating drug charges against him, and threats of harming members of his family.
Friday, October 26, 2007
The Beautiful, Wonderful, Terrifying Unknown...
It's been a long time since my last post. I haven't even looked at the old posts so I forget what I was even going off about back then. Oh, yeah...I was lost. I remember now, I had an ad out for people to be on the look out for me. I lost me somewhere, somehow and I was not sure where the hell I was.
Well...the journey continues!! I'm leaving!! I'm out!! Packin' up my bags and just seeing what kind of shit I can get myself into...AGAIN!!
For those of you who do not know the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you Flying Spaghetti Monster, here it is:
My name is Ahmad and I am from the planet Waddaphuk!!
No, no, no...I wish it were that simple. Seriously, I have a tendency of picking up and going where I've never gone before and just seeing what could happen. I mean, what could possible happen, other than I would, well, find out.
June 2001, I picked up and left. I packed my bags, got on a plane and came to Chicago with no clear plan in sight, no idea what I was going to do, no who-what-when-where or why?!! Well, it was not as dramatic since I had a place to stay and a family to beat me up if I screwed up. My family from when I was an exchange student back before I was me took me in. Mom and Dad, poor things, decided to usurp me back into the family and support me with my life (whatever or wherever it was going to end up).
Fast forward to 2002, skipping over bad relationship with He Who Must Not Be Named, I was a night clerk in a White Hen Pantry mopping floors, stocking booze, selling lottery tickets and White Owls. It was the perfect use of my degree in political science and my skills at negotiation and diplomacy (hey, you need those when you tell a drunk guy at 1 a.m. you can't sell him a blunt because he doesn't have his I.D.).
Again, Fast Forward to 2006, and here I am in a spiffy office, dress shirt, tie, black leather shoes, looking all clean and crisp, and working for one of the oldest and cultiest non-profs in the world. I moved twice with my sig-other, got another dog (actually she's the devil's spawn), bought a condo...and everything is just yippy kaya MFs!!!!
So, what next?! Well...Yooooooouuuuuu Guest It!! Gotta Go Gotta Go Gotta Go right now!! I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date, can't stay, hello, good bye, I'm late I'm late I'm late!! I've leaving on a jet plane...bye bye miss American pie...
It is time to go and plunge my myself head first into the unknown...I am Egyptian...we were nomads for a while...so I guess it's in my genes. Chicago is home of course, and will be for a while to come. But, as cults go...it's time...
Beam me up Scotty!!
Well...the journey continues!! I'm leaving!! I'm out!! Packin' up my bags and just seeing what kind of shit I can get myself into...AGAIN!!
For those of you who do not know the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you Flying Spaghetti Monster, here it is:
My name is Ahmad and I am from the planet Waddaphuk!!
No, no, no...I wish it were that simple. Seriously, I have a tendency of picking up and going where I've never gone before and just seeing what could happen. I mean, what could possible happen, other than I would, well, find out.
June 2001, I picked up and left. I packed my bags, got on a plane and came to Chicago with no clear plan in sight, no idea what I was going to do, no who-what-when-where or why?!! Well, it was not as dramatic since I had a place to stay and a family to beat me up if I screwed up. My family from when I was an exchange student back before I was me took me in. Mom and Dad, poor things, decided to usurp me back into the family and support me with my life (whatever or wherever it was going to end up).
Fast forward to 2002, skipping over bad relationship with He Who Must Not Be Named, I was a night clerk in a White Hen Pantry mopping floors, stocking booze, selling lottery tickets and White Owls. It was the perfect use of my degree in political science and my skills at negotiation and diplomacy (hey, you need those when you tell a drunk guy at 1 a.m. you can't sell him a blunt because he doesn't have his I.D.).
Again, Fast Forward to 2006, and here I am in a spiffy office, dress shirt, tie, black leather shoes, looking all clean and crisp, and working for one of the oldest and cultiest non-profs in the world. I moved twice with my sig-other, got another dog (actually she's the devil's spawn), bought a condo...and everything is just yippy kaya MFs!!!!
So, what next?! Well...Yooooooouuuuuu Guest It!! Gotta Go Gotta Go Gotta Go right now!! I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date, can't stay, hello, good bye, I'm late I'm late I'm late!! I've leaving on a jet plane...bye bye miss American pie...
It is time to go and plunge my myself head first into the unknown...I am Egyptian...we were nomads for a while...so I guess it's in my genes. Chicago is home of course, and will be for a while to come. But, as cults go...it's time...
Beam me up Scotty!!
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Lost and Hopefully Will Be Found
Lost
User Manual For Life
Prototype Name: A.H.M.A.D.
Serial Number: 6-2-185-6-23-79
Lost, Life User Manual for A.H.M.A.D. Last known location unknown. Might have been lost before, during, or after trans-Atlantic flight on board Delta flight (number known).
Physical Description: Leather bound with gold title with prototype name, serial number. Manual is slightly warn on the edges with some coffee stains on some of the pages.
Contents: The manual details the assembly and operational instructions for A.H.M.A.D. It provides page by page instructions for assembly, hard drive installation and wiring, with name, address and phone number for spare parts supplier. Lifetime warranty included at time of delivery, however, might not cover delivery charges and some spare parts damaged through no fault of manufacturer. Any non-factory related malfunction or damages might be repairable at owner's expense and not covered in whole or in part by manufacturer or supplier.
Table of Contents (instructions varies by model-this might help in identifying the right manual if found):
1. Initial Assembly and unwrapping: Model A.H.M.A.D. (see above serial number) comes fully assembled. Some consumers have reported problems with unwrapping packages. Sometimes cords included in package wrap around parts and cause constriction. If this occurs, cut cord and discard. Model should function properly afterwards.
2. Audio and Video Equipment: Ahmad comes with state of the art video input. Will not require additional lenses to enhance video input. However, as product ages, some alterations or corrective lenses might be needed. This varies based on use.
Audio output is state of the art. Please note that in some instances excessive audio output has been reported in certain similar models. If excessive and constant audio output occurs, contact manufacturer for possible remedies or alterations.
Note: If product is 12 or 13 years old, audio equipment might change slightly. This is not a malfunction. This has been reported in similar model. The change in audio will correct itself in one year. However, the pitch might become slightly lower.
3. Hard Drive: Once installed, hard drive constantly uploads and upgrades itself. User must provide a stable and continuous connection for upload and smooth operation of unit to occur as scheduled. Occasionally, hard drive will experience slow upload and processing. Please exercise patience during this process. Hard drive is self maintaining and will correct lapse in processing periodically. Note, lapse in processing might occur at the same time as change in audio output (see above).
4. Programming: User will need to provide programming input and feedback on unit output periodically. This will be necessary until unit reaches capacity at 25 years (varies slightly for each make and model). For input requirements please see self programming guidelines in the following section.
PLEASE: If found, forward the self-programming section of the manual for the above mentioned unit to the address provided in this notice. Unit is constantly malfunctioning and manufacturer will not perform needed service. Unit might not be covered by warranty since it was purchased oversees and equipment might be faulty. Pending litigation due to possible lead based paint on unit. Again, please contact me as soon as possible if you find the user manual. Possibly compensation or reward.
Thank you!!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Calendar Obsessed Cat
I have a friend and coworker who is the epitome of technology obsession gone over the top. At first glance one would never imagine that the shy looking, jumpy, ticklish Cat knows her way around a Gameboy with a map, compass and detailed step by step instructions. Oh, how unwise one would be to doubt the cunning Cat that is so much like a feline (well, with some exceptions like not liking the sun and a bit short on the grace side...she falls a lot) and her obsessive compulsive love for everything electronic.
First, a bit of background. Cat is from, oh I forget, who knows...Ohio, or was it somewhere in redneck ville....anyway, she's been everywhere as I understand it. She came into my world almost a year ago as an Assistant in the division I work in. At first hello everything seemed normal and I pitied her for working in the department she was hired since her coworkers have their fair share of...how shall I say this...neurosis. But, as she turned to say good bye, I saw a twinkle of deviousness that took me aback. I know then and there that Cat would be my Hag. Well, she insists that she is more of a "fruit fly" though. I don't regard Cat as a fruit fly since that implies that she gravitates towards fruits. That honor is reserved for my other friend who is currently living in Nigeria (oh you know who you are) who tends to date guys that turn out to be gay....always. Even in Nigeria, she managed to like a guy who publicly admits loving ABBA, Cher and worships Madonna. Case in point!!
Anyway, back to Cat: normally I am allergic to felines. They make me sneeze, itch and cause my skin to crawl. I don't feel that way about Cat. However, her daily obsession with her Outlook Calendar drives me up the wall. Most people have a daily planner or a notebook or something to write doctor appointments, hair appointments, car tune-ups..etc. Cat on the other hand, has an entry in her Outlook Calendar for possibly everything that has a name and can be put on a calendar. If it can't be described, I imagine Cat will find a way of writing it down and add all the bells, whistles, alarms, reminders and color codes around it to remind her of it. Then she will add Post-it notes around her screen to remind her what the colors codes mean and why she needs them. Cat has since changed position and is now a Coordinator and she manages the General Manager's calendar. If I were a betting man I would wager that Cat has more entries in her Outlook daily schedule than the GM himself.
I often screw around with Cat. I would walk by her cube and if she is not there I will rearrange things on her desk. The other day I took a little Mayan statue she had, put it on top of the monitor (she has two side by sides....disgusting!!) and stuck her headphones on it. I also moved her stapler, date stamp and letter opener. At first she would freak out and think that someone is conspiring against her and wants her demise and oh-so-powerful position as Coordinator. Now, sadly, she's on to me. The other day I actually hid her keyboard and mouse. She found it, sadly, but I was glad I shook her perfectly arranged world just for a minute. what I would really like to do is get my hand on her calendar and rearrange all her appointments....that would be absolutely fabulous.
Why am I so evil you ask? Well, there is a really simple reason: Cat is 23. I do not believe that 23 year olds should have a calendar or a perfectly organized color coded world with timed entries or reminders. At 23 one should be spontaneous, if not reckless. A 23 year old should not have a calendar entry for a movie marathon at a friend's house. A 23 year old should definitely not update their computer screen saver to state where they are and when they will be back to their desk every time they step away. And...a 23 year old should most definitely not be attached to a goddamn Outlook Calendar that dictates when she gets hungry, happy, sad, depressed, obsessed or when she can have a bowel movement. Has technology just taken over our world so damn much that we cannot be spontaneous, throw caution to the wind and just do what we feel like doing at one given moment? Are our computers turning us into mini computers that cannot function without the motherboard that is our PC? Were the Wachowski brothers that dead on with their Matrix depiction of the end of humanity and the rise of the machines. Will Cat turn into a Schwarzenegger like Terminator that will hunt down every spontaneous free thinking twenty something and assimilate them Borg-like into the Outlook Collective?
I don't know!! However, I do know that I will fight Cat's Calendar with every ounce of my being until spontaneity prevails and human recklessness rules the world once again.
First, a bit of background. Cat is from, oh I forget, who knows...Ohio, or was it somewhere in redneck ville....anyway, she's been everywhere as I understand it. She came into my world almost a year ago as an Assistant in the division I work in. At first hello everything seemed normal and I pitied her for working in the department she was hired since her coworkers have their fair share of...how shall I say this...neurosis. But, as she turned to say good bye, I saw a twinkle of deviousness that took me aback. I know then and there that Cat would be my Hag. Well, she insists that she is more of a "fruit fly" though. I don't regard Cat as a fruit fly since that implies that she gravitates towards fruits. That honor is reserved for my other friend who is currently living in Nigeria (oh you know who you are) who tends to date guys that turn out to be gay....always. Even in Nigeria, she managed to like a guy who publicly admits loving ABBA, Cher and worships Madonna. Case in point!!
Anyway, back to Cat: normally I am allergic to felines. They make me sneeze, itch and cause my skin to crawl. I don't feel that way about Cat. However, her daily obsession with her Outlook Calendar drives me up the wall. Most people have a daily planner or a notebook or something to write doctor appointments, hair appointments, car tune-ups..etc. Cat on the other hand, has an entry in her Outlook Calendar for possibly everything that has a name and can be put on a calendar. If it can't be described, I imagine Cat will find a way of writing it down and add all the bells, whistles, alarms, reminders and color codes around it to remind her of it. Then she will add Post-it notes around her screen to remind her what the colors codes mean and why she needs them. Cat has since changed position and is now a Coordinator and she manages the General Manager's calendar. If I were a betting man I would wager that Cat has more entries in her Outlook daily schedule than the GM himself.
I often screw around with Cat. I would walk by her cube and if she is not there I will rearrange things on her desk. The other day I took a little Mayan statue she had, put it on top of the monitor (she has two side by sides....disgusting!!) and stuck her headphones on it. I also moved her stapler, date stamp and letter opener. At first she would freak out and think that someone is conspiring against her and wants her demise and oh-so-powerful position as Coordinator. Now, sadly, she's on to me. The other day I actually hid her keyboard and mouse. She found it, sadly, but I was glad I shook her perfectly arranged world just for a minute. what I would really like to do is get my hand on her calendar and rearrange all her appointments....that would be absolutely fabulous.
Why am I so evil you ask? Well, there is a really simple reason: Cat is 23. I do not believe that 23 year olds should have a calendar or a perfectly organized color coded world with timed entries or reminders. At 23 one should be spontaneous, if not reckless. A 23 year old should not have a calendar entry for a movie marathon at a friend's house. A 23 year old should definitely not update their computer screen saver to state where they are and when they will be back to their desk every time they step away. And...a 23 year old should most definitely not be attached to a goddamn Outlook Calendar that dictates when she gets hungry, happy, sad, depressed, obsessed or when she can have a bowel movement. Has technology just taken over our world so damn much that we cannot be spontaneous, throw caution to the wind and just do what we feel like doing at one given moment? Are our computers turning us into mini computers that cannot function without the motherboard that is our PC? Were the Wachowski brothers that dead on with their Matrix depiction of the end of humanity and the rise of the machines. Will Cat turn into a Schwarzenegger like Terminator that will hunt down every spontaneous free thinking twenty something and assimilate them Borg-like into the Outlook Collective?
I don't know!! However, I do know that I will fight Cat's Calendar with every ounce of my being until spontaneity prevails and human recklessness rules the world once again.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Losing My Way...Sadly!!
I'm "in one of my moods" as Matthew puts it. It seems for the outside observer (outside of me, that is), that I get into these moods four times a year, or as Matthew put it, with the change of the seasons. I call it my period actually because I cannot find a logical reason for it than hormones or something like that.
I feel like I am losing my way and it is making me cranky and not the most pleasant to be around. I will gladly open my jaws wide and snap the neck of an unsuspecting cheerful person in half and chew on their giddy heads like chew tobacco until they start oozing grotesquely and I gladly spit them out on the ground and drive over them with my ozone hole punching SUV.
I feel like I am losing my way. I was recently reading a friend's blog and she referred to one of the Oz books when Dorothy reached a cross road that spun around like a pinwheel so that Dorothy could not tell where she came from. That's how I feel. I am cranky because I feel stuck. I am not getting any great satisfaction out of waking up in the morning, opening my eyes, and feeling the life rush into my numb sleepy limbs. I am feeling a loss of purpose that makes me feel queasy, sick, and incredibly depressed. I do not know where I am going or where I want to be going, why, when, where, how or whatever.
I am losing faith in my work. No, not the quality of my work. I will never admit that I did a crappy job. Unless of course it is a paper that I poured my guts into and will gladly say it was crap as a mere defense mechanism. No, I am losing faith in the purpose of my job. I am getting caught up in all the bureaucracy of administering a program that a year ago I felt was one of the greatest educational programs around. It is perfectly in line with the bring the word together, peace, love, hippy-chicks, flower power, we are the world-we are the children, heal the world, and every other Beatles, Michael Jackson, U2 song out there. Lately, however, it is beginning to look more like Pink Floyd...We Don't Need No Education, We Don't Need No Thought Control; No Dark Sarcasm In The Classroom; Teachers Leave Those Kids Alone. Now it seems pointless. It seems like a save the world program that is stuck in an Oz pinwheel crossroads...it lost it's purpose and is struggling to find a new one. I feel like I have lost my faith in it and struggling to believe in the new vision. I am struggling with the desire to jump ship.
Jumping Ship sounds like such an easy thing to do. You simply stand on the edge, look down into the water, and jump. You land with a splash into the deep blue water, squeeze water out of your eyes and look around at the horizon, the sky, the clouds, feel the wind, pick a direction and swim. Life, it seems, is not that easy. I am a good swimmer. It seems that I have been jumping ship every so often and I am having a hard time dealing with why I do it. No, not dealing, more like, realizing why I am doing it. I tend to leave when I get tired of something. I look around, find a new island and swim towards that. I feel sort of like a nomad. I wander from place to place with the seasons and where there is water. I rest, drink, eat...Then I leave.
Am I afraid to put my roots down? Am I uneasy with the feeling of my roots growing so deep and so thick into the ground that I cannot uproot them whenever I want and just...Go?! I am feeling an incredible loss of purpose and I don't know what to do about it. Where am I going? I think it is easier for people with children (even though I am sure there are people with children out there that will bite my head off for that gross generalization). I guess when you have children no matter what your identity crisis is, you are always a parent and you will do whatever to protect and provide for your kids. I just have me...well, and of course Matthew and the girls (dogs). So, I am not perfectly on my own, but I feel like I am on my own as well. I have to figure out what I want to do with myself. What is my purpose in life. What is my legacy...what have I or will I contribute to this world, if anything. I am no good to anyone, to Matthew or the girls if I don't figure this out. I am useless without this plan...this grand scheme...this grand design of the minuteness that is my life. It seemed very clear what the plan was...then I lost it...or lost sight of it for a second...and now it seems like it disappeared.
Where was I? What was I doing? What was the plan? And what is the new plan now? Is this cubicle it? Everyone wants me to finish the MA? Should I finish it? For whom? What would it accomplish exactly? Do I even care?
It's not just about my job or my education. What and who am I? Last week I wanted to be out there and feel wanted. I wanted to be objectified and glared at. I wanted attention. This week I want to blend into the wall and fend off people's expectations of me. I want to be left alone until my brilliant plan clicks in my head like those cartoon light bulbs.
I hate uncertainty and I hate hormones. Let's hope life goes back to normal again soon...
I feel like I am losing my way and it is making me cranky and not the most pleasant to be around. I will gladly open my jaws wide and snap the neck of an unsuspecting cheerful person in half and chew on their giddy heads like chew tobacco until they start oozing grotesquely and I gladly spit them out on the ground and drive over them with my ozone hole punching SUV.
I feel like I am losing my way. I was recently reading a friend's blog and she referred to one of the Oz books when Dorothy reached a cross road that spun around like a pinwheel so that Dorothy could not tell where she came from. That's how I feel. I am cranky because I feel stuck. I am not getting any great satisfaction out of waking up in the morning, opening my eyes, and feeling the life rush into my numb sleepy limbs. I am feeling a loss of purpose that makes me feel queasy, sick, and incredibly depressed. I do not know where I am going or where I want to be going, why, when, where, how or whatever.
I am losing faith in my work. No, not the quality of my work. I will never admit that I did a crappy job. Unless of course it is a paper that I poured my guts into and will gladly say it was crap as a mere defense mechanism. No, I am losing faith in the purpose of my job. I am getting caught up in all the bureaucracy of administering a program that a year ago I felt was one of the greatest educational programs around. It is perfectly in line with the bring the word together, peace, love, hippy-chicks, flower power, we are the world-we are the children, heal the world, and every other Beatles, Michael Jackson, U2 song out there. Lately, however, it is beginning to look more like Pink Floyd...We Don't Need No Education, We Don't Need No Thought Control; No Dark Sarcasm In The Classroom; Teachers Leave Those Kids Alone. Now it seems pointless. It seems like a save the world program that is stuck in an Oz pinwheel crossroads...it lost it's purpose and is struggling to find a new one. I feel like I have lost my faith in it and struggling to believe in the new vision. I am struggling with the desire to jump ship.
Jumping Ship sounds like such an easy thing to do. You simply stand on the edge, look down into the water, and jump. You land with a splash into the deep blue water, squeeze water out of your eyes and look around at the horizon, the sky, the clouds, feel the wind, pick a direction and swim. Life, it seems, is not that easy. I am a good swimmer. It seems that I have been jumping ship every so often and I am having a hard time dealing with why I do it. No, not dealing, more like, realizing why I am doing it. I tend to leave when I get tired of something. I look around, find a new island and swim towards that. I feel sort of like a nomad. I wander from place to place with the seasons and where there is water. I rest, drink, eat...Then I leave.
Am I afraid to put my roots down? Am I uneasy with the feeling of my roots growing so deep and so thick into the ground that I cannot uproot them whenever I want and just...Go?! I am feeling an incredible loss of purpose and I don't know what to do about it. Where am I going? I think it is easier for people with children (even though I am sure there are people with children out there that will bite my head off for that gross generalization). I guess when you have children no matter what your identity crisis is, you are always a parent and you will do whatever to protect and provide for your kids. I just have me...well, and of course Matthew and the girls (dogs). So, I am not perfectly on my own, but I feel like I am on my own as well. I have to figure out what I want to do with myself. What is my purpose in life. What is my legacy...what have I or will I contribute to this world, if anything. I am no good to anyone, to Matthew or the girls if I don't figure this out. I am useless without this plan...this grand scheme...this grand design of the minuteness that is my life. It seemed very clear what the plan was...then I lost it...or lost sight of it for a second...and now it seems like it disappeared.
Where was I? What was I doing? What was the plan? And what is the new plan now? Is this cubicle it? Everyone wants me to finish the MA? Should I finish it? For whom? What would it accomplish exactly? Do I even care?
It's not just about my job or my education. What and who am I? Last week I wanted to be out there and feel wanted. I wanted to be objectified and glared at. I wanted attention. This week I want to blend into the wall and fend off people's expectations of me. I want to be left alone until my brilliant plan clicks in my head like those cartoon light bulbs.
I hate uncertainty and I hate hormones. Let's hope life goes back to normal again soon...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
