Quality Control a.k.a. I’m Bored as $#!*

Everything surrounding me is gray:
The outdated wall to wall carpeting
And the glum shut blinds to keep out the day,
The cubicles partitions dividing.
I spend everyday searching for mistakes,
When all is right I begin to worry
If the report, after the time it takes,
Is flawless, then I was “in a hurry.”
No report can be seen without complaint.
They all have in them some imperfection
Like a few black drops dripped into white paint.
The photos don’t match the home description!
Turns out what I am best at, sad to say,
Is QC’ing a high value survey.

Johnny X's March 2009

My Newest Book I Have to Wait Two Years to Read


A Devil on One Shoulder and an Angel on the Other: The Story of Shannon Hoon and Blind Melon

Favorite Email

Zach: I have a little snag in our plans for Thursday night. My calling is coaching the young men's basketball teams in my ward. It's region time and the priest team is doing very well and has a game Thursday night at 7 pm, semi finals. The games are an hour, or less. I can be at Cam's at 8. Don't let that stop you guys from going to dinner, or getting together earlier. I'll get there at 8 though. Thoughts?

Cam: My first thought is, Bummer. My second thought is, who the crap made you a basketball coach?

Zach: Jesus, Cam. Jesus.

Favorite Youtube Video: It's Just Like a Mini Mall

I often say that I work with some of the dumbest people in the country. I am not sure if people actually believe me, or if they take it as an exaggeration as I am blowing of steam, but it's true.

Exhibit A: I work for a company that does insurance inspections on homes. Some insurance companies require that the inspector take a photo of the number of the home to confirm the address, so that they know we saw the correct home.

We got a report in the other day where the inspector took a picture of the request the insurance company sent us. So, to confirm that the address was correct he took a picture of a piece of paper, and sent it in labelled "Address confirmation," which of course makes no sense at all. It doesn't confirm that he saw the right house, it just confirms that he could if he wanted to.

How can you possibly think that that is the right thing to do? That you are going to send this to the QC staff, and they will look at it be like "Yep. The number on the request he took a picture of didn't change when he printed it," and send the picture of your clipboard to the insurance company? Awesome. Quite professional.

I was going to post this picture, but I would have to black out most of it (name, address etc.), and it wouldn't be worth it.

A pet peeve of mine that has formed because of my job is the word barbecue being spelled BBQ, bar-b-que (seriously! What is that!), or barbeque.

Whenever an insured has a built-in BARBECUE we need to list that in the report, and the spelling needs to be changed 98% of the time, and it drove me nuts. This doesn't have much to do with my work now, but I could get a well-done (pardon the pun) report, but if they spelled barbecue wrong (which, like i said, was 98% of the time) I would be super upset, and was always sure to let the inspector know.

I don't know why it bothered me so much. It appears that I was the only one in the office correcting it, and that 4% of the English speaking population actually knows how to spell the stupid word. I have gotten emails back from underwriters with it spelled incorrectly, so obviously the people I was fixing it for didn't know the difference, and the pricing tool I am currently working with has it built-in as 'barbeque,' and I can't do anything about it.

Maybe I am just sensitive becuase I was going to get 100% on a spelling test in the fifth grade once, but I didn't, because I spelled barbecue with a 'q.'

Anyway, a friend recently told me to try Jim Beam sunflower seeds, which I did. Although, it gave me pause when I saw that they couldn't spell it either. It is much more offensive to me when you sell barbecue products (flavor, or grills) and don't know how to spell it. You should be able to spell your own product

Really. How did this word get a pass by everyone? How is it that it gets five different spellings when other words have one?

Piece of Lit

Then he heard the weeping. That was what woke him: a soft but penetrating weeping that because it was do delicate was able to slip through the mesh of sleep and reach the place where his fear lived. - Pedro Páramo, Jaun Rulfo

Six Hours of Driving and a Jazz Game

The Freshmaker



Being overly excited, but it's the people in the back that make this a keeper

Some Guy With Bagpipes

I had to pee so bad!

In Case You Were Interested 2

I have had a lot to say lately, I just haven't had the time to say it. Going back and writing all the stuff that I previously had to say is very daunting, so you will just have to settle for new stuff.

I have been hyper-observant all day. That may not be the correct term because it is not like I have been noticing tons of things that I wouldn't notice when I wasn't being hyper-whatever-the correct-term-would-be-if-observant-isn't-the-correct-word; it's more like the things noticed have meaning, or more meaning depending on what they were.

It didn't start when I saw the girl microwaving bacon this morning. It didn't start there, but I think that is what primed me for it. I went into the break room to fill my mug up with hot water and saw one of my co-workers microwaving bacon on what I think was a single layer of paper towel. The grease was exploding and causing an obnoxious ruckus. She opened the microwave and muttered something. This something, I believe, was supposed to communicate to me that she was confused as to why everything was so loud (her thinking I didn't know what she was cooking), but really conveyed to me that she was embarrassed that I had walked in on her boisterous disgusting act and was feigning confusion as an excuse to stop the microwave and wait until I had left to continue permanently ruining the microwave (I had pizza rolls today cooked in that microwave—no bueno). She didn't have a plate; she took the greasy crap to her desk to eat in paper towels (where she found the paper towels I have no idea; they somehow elude me), and I can only imagine what her desk looked like when she picked them up to throw away. You know when Willow hit the troll with the wand and it starts to turn into the two headed dragon? Of course you do, but in case you need to be reminded here it is. Her mass of nuked pig looked kind of like that. I told whomever was online what I had witnessed, and my mind was prepped for noticing other things throughout the day.

Before we move on can we take a look at this clip from Willow? It is so freaking awesome.

How awesome is:
The music, especially during "Can you ride? Let's ride!" part?
The catapult part?
Madmartigan and his troll kick?

I love:
Madmartigan's face when he turns around and sees the dragon for the first time.
How everything the skull faced guy says throughout the entire move is shouted. "Destroy the Beast! Find the Baby!"
When Madmartigan realizes he is standing with the bad guys

Why:
Does the dragon's head explode?
Do trolls sound like steam whistles?
Is there a talking goat? What!? You need to watch Willow! Now! You think I'm joking?!

Great Lines:

"Go in the direction the bird is flying!"
"He's going back to village!"
"Ignore the bird. Follow the river."

Madmartigan: "I love you, Sorsha?" I don't love her. She kicked me in the face.

Favorite line when I was little:

"We stole the baby from you, Daikini, while you were taking a pee-pee!"

Moving on: It started when I realized I didn't have a pen for class. Me. Not having a pen. I have no excuses. I don't know what happened. I am a wonder when it comes to writing instruments. It is not uncommon for me to lose a pen a day for seven days in a row, and have been known to lose upwards of three in an 8 hour period. Where they go and what they have going with the paper towels is a bloody mystery. I usually just buy a couple large packs of Bics and pour them into my backpack. Unfortunately, my backpack, along with my spare pens, had been stolen (part of the old stuff) and so I had no pen stash to fall back on.

I eyed the floor as I walked to class hoping to capitalize on someone's loss. Unfortunately again for me, nobody had lost and I walked into class naked. . .no, the reason I did not have a pen was not because I wasn't wearing pants. I had pants on, I mean I felt naked because I always have a pen in the left pocket of my current waistwear. So, I walked into class feeling as though I was naked still searching the aisles of the stadium seating. I took my usual seat, third row, left aisle, and looked at the floor around me—no pen, but I did find a torn piece of blue paper, a AA battery and a Junior Mint. That is when I started thinking of story ideas about finding things you aren't looking for and thought of a line and went to write it down in my notebook I keep in my left rear pocket and reached for a pen. . .Seriously? Did I just look in my pocket for a pen. Yes, I did. I sat back hoping I would remember the line (which I have forgot) reached in my bag and pulled out Carver and began to read the story "What do you do in San Franciso?" After I read the line "That was Saturday, as I said, the day before Memorial Day," I realized I must pee.

I stood up and left while taking advantage of my trip to the men's room scouring the floor for pens. With the rush of writing ideas, and with the few pages I read of Carver, my mind was attaching stories to almost everything I saw. A seated woman dropped a paper right in front me and I picked it up and handed it to her in stride and wondered what I would have done if she had dropped a pen, and then thought about saying, "Hey, since I did you this favor you should lend me a pen."

I walked into the bathroom and saw a kid spiking his very long black hair straight up, and as I settled into my chosen urinal I noticed the kid next to me was texting with his left hand. Couldn't wait 20 seconds, huh? Have to text mid-stream? What if he dropped it in the urinal? That would be awesome, that's what.

As I walked back I coveted a pen that someone had laid down while he was reading. Could I get it? I walked by two offices hoping to notice someone away from their desk. No luck. In the second office, Student Government, I saw a pen cup FULL of sprouting eager pens. Look at them in there with their orgy of pens and happy-go-lucky attitudes. I thought I could just go in there and start writing in my book vigorously and then pretend to put the pen back and walk out with it; a plan that was sure to work except I kept walking while thinking about it and ended up back in third row, left aisle penless.

I lucked out, though. The only thing during class that came close to really needing to be written down was a thought that I should title a previously written story "Aubade x4," but then decided that it was astonishingly awful and decided against it. Of course, what needed to be forgotten is now recollected.

WTD?! (What the Dump)

People pick the oddest things to care about sometimes. The building that shares a parking lot with my office fenced in their dumpster today. Why? I really really want to know why. I imagine some people in my building put stuff in that dumpster from time to time instead of going around back to use ours, but so what? I have been here for five years and have never seen it so full the lids wouldn't shut all the way, and Salt Lake County's finest are eating across the street at Crown Burger EVERY NIGHT till it closes and park right next to the dumpster, so I am doubting bums are sleeping in there. (Let me say again, EVERY NIGHT and EVERY LUNCH. I imagine they aren't the same cops every time or else they would be dead, but still, I have yet to see one that looks in shape. Also, WTD is up with all these fat cops? Isn't being in shape part of your job?)

So other people may use your dumpster from time to time. Is the waste company charging you per pound now? Does this change your life in any way? Putting a fence around a dumpster is not going to affect you at all. It is going to affect the guy who now has to get out of his truck to unlock and lock the stupid thing. And I bet normally you are just a joy to be around.

Lunch Break

At my work we are required to take a thirty minute lunch. I ate at my desk today, so now I have to clock out for a half-hour (Is there supposed to be a dash there? I suck at pretty much all punctuation) and I don't know what to do. Actually, I have been sitting here for like 15 minutes trying to figure out what to do for the break. I finally clocked out and decided to write a post, but usually these random ones are kinda dumb. Oh well.

Let's hit shuffle on the ol ipod shall we?

#1 Summer Romance (Anti-Gravity Love Song) - Incubus

Okay, this is probably my favorite Incubus song. S.C.I.E.N.C.E. is easily my favorite Incubus album. I actually don't really like anything after it. I have Make Yourself, but that is as far as I go with the Incubus. Not that the newer stuff is bad, I am just 'meh' on it. My apologies to at least two people I know who read this.


#2 Rudie Can't Fail - The Clash

On the route of the 19 bus!

Sometimes I wish my friend Tolley and I were born fifteen years earlier than we were.


Do You Still Hate Me - Jawbreaker

A Johnny X top five band.

Been hearing about you.
All about your disapproval.
Still I remember the way I used to move you.
I wrote you a letter.
I heard it just upset you.
Why don't you tell me?
How can I do this better?
Are you out there?
Do you hear me?
Can I call you?
Do you still hate me?
Are we talking?
Are we fighting?
Is it over?
Are we writing?
We're getting older.
But we're acting younger.
We should be smarter.
It seems we're getting dumber.
I have a picture of you and me in Brooklyn.
On a porch, it was raining.
Hey, I remember that day.
And I miss you.

So simple and true.


Bullet with Butterfly Wings - The Smashing Pumpkins

I don't know why I remember this, but I remember the first time I ever heard this song. When I was younger I kept our old family stereo in my bed, and when bed time would come I would turn the radio on and fall asleep that way. I woke up like at two or three in the morning once and this song was playing but I didn't know what it was called. Now, I also have a memory of going to school the next day and Cam asking me if I heard the new Smashing Pumpkins song, but I am not sure if that second part really happened. I might just think that because the Pumpkins always remind me of him.

All Good Things Come to an End - Nelly Furtado

Hmm. . .explanation: My friend Lacey who is awesomely awesome and a graphic designer made a CD called Winter Nights for the South SL crew a.k.a The 651's. We all picked two chill songs we wanted on the CD and and she made up the cover and the case and then we had the CD release party at her cabin. Like I said, awesomely awesome.

Yes, that is Will Ferrell laying on a polar bear rug on the cover. Also, the shirt I am wearing says Tampax. That is also courtesy of Lacey. Hooray tampons.

Anyway, we had a Winter Nights B-side as well (Rob is showing both in the middle of the pic), with songs people picked but were too long or weren't sure what to put on etc. This Nelly Furtado song was a B-side picked by Robby. I do like this song, and I do dig a good chunk of this Nelly Furtado album, but I can't listen to it. You see, when Rob bought this album and me and him would drive through the crowded parking lots of Sugarhouse he would crank the music up, roll down the windows, and start dancing and clapping his loud clap to make sure everyone would look at the two dudes in the Rover, one dancing around like a boner, and the other slid as far down in his seat as he could be. He would do this mostly because he knows I hate awkwardness and he gets a kick out of embarrassing me. And he would do this little head nod and tell me every time how he is pretty sure she does that head nod in the video, and I would get so mad at him and he would be tickled. So, now whenever I hear Nelly Furtado I picture Rob clapping and sliding his head from side to side and I get pissed off, thus, no Nelly Furtado for me.

Back to work.

Some Color. Yaay!

While sitting in my gray rectangular work home yesterday I realized I needed to run out to my truck. While walking through the parking lot I walked by a sheriff’s car in our parking lot, which isn’t that odd because there are always cops at the Crown Burger next to our office for lunch and dinner. The rest of his crew cutted moustched friends were parked in the Crown Burger parking, but it was pretty busy so I guess he decided to come park in our lot. The only thing was he parked in our handicap spot while there were plenty of spaces open right next to said handicap spot. There isn’t much that grinds my gears worse than someone who has too much authority or too much money and believes themselves above the rest of us normies, and doesn’t think the same rules apply to them. I mean nobody is going to give this guy a ticket.

On the way back I walked by the cruiser again and thought that I should leave a note on his car, a ticket if you will. I recruited an accomplice and we wrote out the ticket on a purple post-it that said, “This is your ticket for parking in the handicap spot, douche. Sincerely, Everyone.” We walked out the side door and as we walked by the car I slapped it on his driver side window and then proceeded to go in the front door of the office. As we entered we felt that justice had been served. Neither of us had a view out a window that would enable us to observe the officer as he read his ticket. I kept standing up from my desk to look and see if he was coming, but knew I would probably miss him.

About an hour later someone came into my area and said, “Who has purple?” I looked around my cubicle wall and sure enough there was the sheriff, moustache and all, holding the note I left on his window. I took my post-its and put them under my leg. Of course everyone else was pretty confused and asked him what was going on.

“I want to apologize to whoever called me a douche.”

“Someone left a nasty note on your car?”

“Yeah, they called me a douche.” I was laughing pretty dang hard at this point and IM'ing my accomplice.

“Oh man, no one here would do that.”

I think the cop said the D word like 50 times while he was in the office. It tickled me every time.

Apologize? Yeah right. He was pretty pissed and we all know that cops, along with politicians and referees, don’t apologize to people. Even the people who didn’t know what was going on knew that he wanted to confront the person who bruised his giant cop ego.

He then proceeded to walk around the entire office looking for purple post-its and colored pens (I had written it in red pen). Most everyone has purple post-its because those are the ones the office purchased most recently.

“I didn’t realize it was a handicap spot.” Uh-huh. The big freaking blue square with the handicap symbol inside didn’t tip you off, huh? Neither did the post with the same symbol? Yeah right, but still, if the rest of us wouldn’t have realized it we still would have earned a parking ticket.


I was kind of bummed that the people around me didn’t think it was funny as it was, but after the officer left we claimed the note and gave the whole story of him being parked in the handicap spot while there were several open spots nearby. They didn’t realize he was parked there so then it all made sense to them then. They told us if we ever did something like that again we need to let them in on it so they can enjoy it as well. I actually got yelled at because people were scared when he came up to talk to him, but the overall sentiment in the office concerning what we did was pride. Good times.

We sufficiently got our point across. In hindsight, while trying to stick it to the man, maybe calling him a feminine product wasn’t the greatest of ideas, but I was upset, and I am sure had a disabled person needed the spot they would have called him much worse.

More From the Office

1:36 Decide to make a post about my afternoon at work.

1:37-1:39 Finish a report and fight the urge to go to the bathroom because I am too lazy to get up, then remember the clip from Liar Liar and go to the bathroom.

1:42 Return from the bathroom and start next report.

1:50 Cameron asks what I am writing and I tell him a post about work.

2:36 -2:46 Talk to boss about ipods.

2:51 - 3:03 Go to Sev to get a slurpee to help me last to the end of the day.

3:10 Cam gets upset because he bought a Caramello at Sev but the machine at work had a peanut butter Twix that is cheaper.

3:11 Time to hit the john again.

3:13 Note on my way back from the bathroom that the girl who sits next to me is always watching anime.

3:15 Cam and I discuss starting an "a la carte" cable company.

3:21 Think to myself that it is amazing how happy a good slurpee can make me.

3:23 Finish another report

3:46 Think that I should make a Top 5 albums to listen to in the dark list.

3:52 Feel that I should tell you that the last two minutes of Big Sur by Mason Jennings is awesome.

4:03 Finish another report.

4:04 Look up lyrics to Now the World by AFI because I couldn't sing along to the chorus.

4:16 One of my favorite Rancid songs comes on my itunes. "Radio Clash, Magnificent Seven. I was a choir boy you showed me no heaven."

4:19 Decide to listen to Magnificent Seven by The Clash.

4:52 Sad because my slurpee is gone, but it lasted a while.

5:00 Sad because its five and I have to stay till six.

5:04 Happy because I decided to make up the hours later and leave now.

Just 40 more years of that and I can retire. Boo-ya.

Me at Work

You know what is scary? I am smiling.

...

A conversation had by the girls who sit in the cubicle next to mine. Loosely quoted, but still very real.

A:"I didn't know today was like a national day of mourning."

B: "Oh, for like President Ford?"

A: "Yeah."

C: "Is it on our calendar?"