Nothing on Purpose

Jeremy's Purpose-Driven Blog

Archive for category Fire

Please File a Complaint

Aug 4

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s people who complain about their difficulties in hopes of earning sympathy that otherwise wouldn’t have ever existed. Of course, the only reason I’m writing this entry is to complain about a recent encounter I had with someone of the sort. Believe you me; I’m not looking for sympathy.

I got in touch with said person because I wanted to share an opinion about something that I had just learned. To my surprise, the only reaction to my opinion was, “I already knew about what you’re talking about.”

That would be fine and dandy if it had anything to do with what I was trying to accomplish. Nonetheless, I assume because I didn’t give rise to that silly reply, this person proceeded to complain about how the only reason I might even try to talk to them about this topic was because they had been saddled with extra job responsibilities.

While I have no problem with people voicing their complaints about tough work loads, it gets old when it seems unfounded and is even worse when it is a continuous stream of complaining. Needless to say, all I replied with was, “let me know when you’re no longer bitter and I’ll talk to you then.”

Well, it appears that this complaint of mine isn’t quite as boisterous if I refuse to fully incriminate those in question by name, so I’ll stop here.

I feel better now.

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Band-Aid

Mar 15

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

After living in the Bay Area for nearly three years, I think I might have finally found a radio station that I can call “my radio station.” I’m not positive just yet, but 103.7 on the FM dial has been really doin’ it for me lately. The station on that broadcast frequency is called The Band, and is the Bay’s Classic Rock station.

The reason I’m not sure if it’s “my station” yet is because I’ve gone through periods where I’ve left my radio on the jazz station or KDFC (the classical station), but those have never stuck. Of course, sports-talk radio is always one of my presets and sometimes, I get the urge to cycle through some of the top-40 stations or April’s preferred R&B/Hip-Hop stations. For some reason. the personalities on the radio up here just aren’t what they were in L.A. We’ve had a hard time adjusting, but I think I might have found a station that plays music I can dig and just leave on.

The music on The Band makes me feel one of two ways: like I’m playing Guitar Hero, or like I’m tripping out on acid. I’ve never taken acid, so I can’t be positive what that feels like, but the songs either make me want to let go of my steering wheel and pretend like I’m on Star Power ripping through a solo, or they make me feel like I should put up a peace sign and sway from side to side.

For now, it’s it. I’m down with The Band and there isn’t much out there today that compares to the quality of music that was 70′s and 80′s classic rock. Even though it’s not the hot stuff I enjoyed on the L.A. airwaves, for now, this will do. It’s certainly a fine band-aid in the meantime.

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Laundry Ludicrousness

Oct 30

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

At the apartment April and I live in, we share one laundry room with the other 75 units on site so doing our laundry is never an easy task. The laundry room houses six washers and six dryers and without fail, at least one machine in the room is always in use at any time of day on any day of the week. In an effort to make doing laundry a much more enjoyable experience, the management at the apartment set hours of operation for the room but of course, no one adheres to those hours and no one enforces said hours.

It’s not often a surprise to walk all of your laundry down to the room only to find that all of the machines are occupied. Now, there’s nothing one can do about that so it really does no good to get angry over the lack of available machinery. However, it does ruffle some feathers whenever all the machines are seemingly unknowingly occupied. It’s aggravating to find a dryer with clothes in it that are completely cold. I can’t imagine the dryer cools very fast so whomever decided to leave their laundry in there must have left it in there for quite some time.

Furthermore, it is distressing to no end to walk out and find that all the machines are occupied with somewhere in the neighborhood of six-seven minutes remaining on the spin cycle only to have to walk back to the apartment with all the laundry; then to walk back out to the room a half hour later only to find that all of those machines are still occupied with a “spin cycle complete” blinking on them. Who does their laundry this way?

There have been countless times when we’ll go out there and that’s what happens. Once, April stayed in the laundry room when she went back for a third time and decided to just wait for whomever had left their clothes there. Moments later, a lady appears and removes her clothes to move them over to the dryers. I arrive and proceed to help April load the washer but the lady stops us and says that she is still using the machine. What? Really? You just removed your clothing. About two minutes later, her husband shows up and loads the empty machine that had our clothes in it just moments ago. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the lady later ended up being one of the people who leaves her clothes in the dryer for years on end.

Whenever I or April do laundry, we’ll set a timer with an alarm so that we know about when we’ll need to return to the room. It’s just what we feel is common courtesy. While I complain about the senselessness that takes place in that room, we’re actually much more tolerant of the incredible stupidity that occurs there. We’ll walk away; come back later; stand and wait; you name it, we’ve done it. We’ve never once said a word to anyone, which makes having our clothes removed in by someone (likely three minutes after our cycle is completed) so that they can do their own laundry all the more unnerving.

It is unbelievably to me that there are such inconsiderate people in the world let alone that they live just a few doors down from me. No matter. Life goes on. But for now, I will complain to myself.

Parking Preposterosity

Sep 29

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

I think sometimes, I expect too much out of other motorists. I suppose I should dial my expectations back a little and just let people drive–but it’s not easy when everywhere, I am surrounded by excruciatingly terrible driving. Today, I am afflicted by the unabashed inconsideration that comes with the whole parking game. Yes, this so-called game might only be taking place in my own head, but I’ve already posted the disclaimer on my expectations. So here we go with my most recent experience.

I arrived at work this morning at around 9 a.m., which is most assuredly too late for me to be able to park in one of the prime spots. I have no issue with having to walk further to get to the elevator or to have to park in some remote area of our underground lot but today, I was not satisfied with the selection of vacant stalls on my first go-round so I went around again. As I neared the prime parking spots, I noticed a middle-aged woman in a pantsuit approaching her Toyota Rav4 so I slowed down and idled my car nearby.

The lady noticed I was waiting and looking around. Of course, there was an empty spot next to her, so I’ll allow her that as an excuse but she must have noticed that that spot was quite small–I don’t know why but the parking stalls in the University’s RSF parking lot are quite randomly sized from one to another. I waited there and watched the woman as she stood outside her door and put things away in the front seat. My “percentage chance that she is actually leaving” meter was slowly declining and my brain was already preparing to fire the synapses that would order my right foot to move from my brake pedal to the gas. I had just about decided that this lady was indeed not leaving at all; and was simply putting things away in her car. It was then that another car showed up behind me and it didn’t matter. I had to move.

No worries, I thought to myself. I drove towards the entrance/exit of the parking garage and parked in a rather large stall with my hood facing the exit for my planned easy escape this evening. I had parked at perhaps the furthest possible distance from the elevator and was ready to make the walk. I finished off my coffee, made sure my permit was clearly showing and gathered my belongings out of the back seat. Just as I looked up to make sure I wouldn’t be run over by any oncoming vehicles and stopped to let one pass, I noticed that it was the Rav4 I had been waiting for. The silly lady had finally gotten her act together and driven off; five minutes later. I thought, well, at least by now, someone has taken that vacated spot and began to walk.

I couldn’t help but take a glance at where the Rav4 had been parked only to notice that the stall was still open. How petty of me to be upset at all about such a slow-moving lady. But I didn’t care–I was still upset. Between the idea of leaving in a timely fashion just out of the sheer natural course of human bodily movement and noticing that other cars were waiting nearby, I couldn’t come to grips with how it was that she had managed to take five minutes to get out of there. Of course, now, I can think of any number of hundreds of reasons why she didn’t move any faster. But I still don’t want to credit her with a single one.

The events of this morning were simply preposterous. I just can’t decide whether to tab her actions or my emotions with the adjective of the day.

Tipping Point

Sep 22

Posted by Jer in Fire, Water | No Comments

Calling today a long day wouldn’t do it justice. April and I woke up at 7 a.m. in Cerritos and headed straight to LAX to fly back to Oakland where we went straight to work. Of course, I flew straight into one of the heaviest work-weeks of the fall with the volleyball team playing Stanford this weekend. Needless to say, when I picked her up from the BART station after work, we each didn’t want to have to wait for dinner and we certainly didn’t want to have to cook our meal. So we decided to order dinner from Sushi House.

When we arrived at the restaurant to pick up the food, it was all set for us at the front counter and the hostess was courteous and thrifty as they usually are. It was when she asked for my signature on the credit card receipt that I was revisited by that old thought: is it necessary to tip for take-out orders? I always feel like restaurants expect a tip whenever there is a tip line on the receipt. It took some extra fortitude, but I signed the bottom of the receipt and left the tip section blank. April always advises me not to do that in case the restaurant decides to write in their own tip. I’ve never worried about that but it sits in the back of my mind. Personally, I don’t think it ought to be necessary to tip for take-out orders. While those in the service industry might still argue that tips are a large part of their livelihood, I just can’t reconcile that idea in my head.

Follow me here. I understand full well that the hostess was providing us a service when she handed us the food and slid my credit card to charge me. And while my tip might also go towards those who prepared my food in the kitchen, I still feel like tips should be reserved for table service. I mean, in all reality, I’m in the service industry as well but no one tips me when I do my job. Should I tip the hostess when she walks me to my table? Should I tip the manager when he comes out to ask me how everything is? That would just be ridiculous.

My biggest pet peeve has to be about tip jars. It’s almost downright appalling that those exist. It makes me feel bad when I don’t throw all of my change into that jar. It makes me feel even more cheap when I take my change and drop some of it and put the rest in my pocket. The worst culprit has to be Yogurtland. I’m a master at keeping my total low so if I spend $2.04, should I end up paying $3 for my yogurt? That’s absurd! I serve myself the yogurt and then I walk up to a place where the Yogurtlandian reads me my total and they expect a tip? I can read the total myself. I can even slide a debit or credit card myself. They should just hire a bouncer to make sure people pay before they leave. The next time I’m there, I’m going to pull a couple of coins out of the tip jar if I do a good job of serving myself yogurt. Either that or I’ll pay with a credit card to avoid the whole embarrassment of not tipping.

Score Spoiler

Sep 13

Posted by Jer in Fire, Water | No Comments

It’s not easy to avoid hearing the scores of major sporting events when you work in the collegiate athletic world. However, over the years, I’ve managed to be pretty successful at maintaining the suspense that comes with watching a pre-recorded game or match by taking different preventative measures. Yesterday, USC played Ohio State in possibly one of the most important college football games of the year. Of course, the game had to take place right smack in the middle of a scheduled volleyball match that I had to be at.

Initially, I figured I wouldn’t bother trying to avoid hearing the score but I gave in and decided I would make a mild attempt at closing myself off with the caveat that I wouldn’t be at all upset if I ended up hearing the score. The football game started at 5 p.m. and my Cal versus San Jose State volleyball match was set to go at 6 p.m. I managed to avoid all human interaction for most of the first hour of the football game while I was setting up for volleyball. But while sitting at the scorers table at about 5:40, I got a text message from my friend Elson which read “Ooooohhhhhhhhh!” I didn’t even bother thinking too much about it and started to head towards my perch up at press row.

The volleyball director of operations stopped me to ask where I was running to so fast and all I said was, “I’m going off line for the next five hours!” Of course, she knew why. When I got up to press row, she proceeded to mock me by putting up a touchdown sign. I couldn’t help but smile as I assumed it meant that USC had scored. No worries. I was now safe–away from any potential score slips.

Perhaps the worst thing about the whole situation was that we could have avoided it all along if the volleyball coach had decided to set his match at 11 a.m. like I had suggested. Nonetheless, it was supposed to be a quick match against the Spartans, who were 0-7 heading into the match. Somehow, in typical 2009 Cal volleyball fashion, the team dropped a set and spent two hours getting a 3-1 victory. Somehow, even though my statistician was from USC and the Pac-10 intern in charge of football, she was kind enough not to mention anything. My statistics inputer also managed to avoid telling me anything even though I knew she had been checking her phone once in a while.

By the end of the volleyball match, I knew the football game was over or at least quite close to being over and I hadn’t heard anything so I relieved that I hadn’t heard anything yet. I coordinated interviews for the student newspaper and began to write my recap. It was then that I noticed the Daily California beat writer was staying up on press row when she usually has been long gone. When I walked over to drop off the final box score, I noticed she was watching the USC football game on ESPN360. I realized then that I hadn’t bothered to tell her not to talk to me about the football game. No sooner than I had thought that thought, she blurted out, “your Trojans are down 15-10!”

Of course! I forgot how much of a know it all and a rub-it-in-your-face type she can be sometimes. As much as I had told myself that I wouldn’t care, I couldn’t help but be upset at that point. I started acting all weird. I was handing her box scores she didn’t ask for and ran a complete stat report she normally doesn’t even get from me; anything to get her to go away. Too late. The damage had been done. It really wasn’t her fault but I couldn’t help but be upset with her in particular but only because she takes a particular joy in razzing me when the Trojans lose.

Thankfully, she kept staying in her spot until the game was over and I overheard her and her friend talk about how the Trojans had pulled of the victory. I sat and completed my story and went home. Luckily, I was in a good enough mood to watch the game in its entirety anyway. All I really want to do is watch it with April but she had already seen the outcome anyway so my night wasn’t completely ruined. Either way, I will be more aware the next time I try not to spoil a score for myself.

Major Malady

Aug 29

Posted by Jer in Earth, Fire, Heart, Wind | 1 Comment

I was stuck in a real random malaise today. I have my theories as to why I was in such a funk today but I can’t say for sure that I know what had me.

I thought maybe it was the Reno, Nev. heat doing a number on me. I have such a low threshold for being uncomfortable that it’s utterly laughable. If it’s too hot, or if there’s a pebble in my shoe, or if I have a hang nail or chapped lips; all of a sudden, everything sucks. I’m grateful that at the very least, I can tell when I’m having a bad day and am pretty good about not letting my inner attitude bring anyone else down. Sadly, the only person that I sometimes allow myself to spread my ill-feelings to is April but I suppose that’s part of being so closely connected.

Recapping my day will probably uncover a few instances that helped me along to my sour mood. I woke up a little late for breakfast, which is a completely regular occurrence for me–but I decided not to go to breakfast at all since we were just eating at the operations director’s room. I skipped out on practice altogether so that I could stay in the room and do some work. While I wasn’t upset by the fact that I missed breakfast and practice, I was already in a more volatile mood because I had not eaten.

By the time lunch came around, I walked down with my roommate (who by the way is not an easy person to have a conversation with). Here comes the first minute detail that I figure played a factor in my malady. As I made my way to the elevator with my roommate, I tried to strike up a conversation and of course received the same one-liners from him. When the doors opened, two of our players were in there and all of a sudden, he opened up like a spring flower in bloom and talked all jovially with the girls. I don’t have anything to prove and I’m not trying to hook up with any of my players so I didn’t care for his antics. As we walked out to the buffet, all he did was talk to the players and I walked behind. The bleeding stopped when we got to the door and one of the players held the door for me. I told her to walk on through.

When we got to the buffet, I headed straight for the food rather than staking out a space at a table. I suppose that was my mistake. When I returned, I noticed one open seat at the staff table and asked if it was taken. Apparently, it was taken. We had a couple of extra people eating with us on this day including coach’s wife and the father of our director so in a quick decision, I put my food down at a long table. I was set to eat all by myself. Rather than stand in the aisle looking awkward, I put my stuff down and busted out my phone to write an e-mail to ESPN that really could have waited. I used that as my excuse to stand a little longer. Eventually, my brain settled me down and I embraced being able to eat alone and enjoy the food.

Things weren’t so bad even though I felt like everyone there was watching me chew on my prime rib lunch. One of the freshmen came over and asked why I was sitting alone and while that was sweet of her, it only served to remind me that, oh yeah, I was eating alone. Then, as I was finishing my first plate of food, one of the assistant coaches came over and asked me where I got the nickname “J-Wu”. Thank you captain obvious. That’s the No. 1 question you ask someone when you feel sorry for having left them to eat by themselves and you decide to go and sit down with them. Well, duh, I got that nickname from my name. It’s really just my first initial and my last name if you hadn’t noticed. That was what was going through my brain even though I was grateful that someone saw fit to come over and at least talk to me briefly.

I finished off my meal and got some dessert and sat with two of my favorite players, Kristen and Hana. I can never tell if they feel like they can’t come sit with the staff or if they don’t want to sit with the adults. Either way, they’re always welcoming when I come around so I appreciated their hospitality. My dessert of choice was bread pudding. After prime rib and shrimp cocktail on my first plate and an enchilada and stir fried vegetables on my second plate, I was really hitting my food-intake limit. I sat there and realized that I couldn’t end my meal with savory. It reminded me of when I had a slice of coconut cream pie the night before and thought about how I can’t end my day without a sweet. It’s really not a fun realization to have.

While I haven’t been gaining weight, I’ve certainly not been losing weight lately. It has been hard to find time to exercise, admittedly. Even though I control my portions pretty well still, I haven’t been eating the choice foods I used to get when I was more strict about what I ate. I think that alone has contributed to my overall laziness and malaise lately. It’s a lack of confidence in some sense because I don’t have that extra pep in my step from knowing that I’m living a healthy lifestyle from day to day.

Did I mention it was hot here today? That never helps. I got back from lunch and continued to work until I felt a little tired. I made the mistake of lying down on the bed to rest. I opened my eyes to notice that the clock read 2:36 p.m. I needed to be down at the bus at 2:45 p.m. so I rushed to clean everything up for the match and ran out. Only once I had boarded the bus did I realize that I forgot to put my contacts in. I was groggy and tired from the accidental nap and that feeling continued when I got to the gym. There, I had to sit in the bleachers uncomfortably working on some bios. I thought more about my lack of exercise while sitting there, scrunched up. It all kind of came to a head when I mentioned it to our director of operations that today was not a good day.

I told her that while I sat up in the bleachers, some kids playing around next to me drew my ire and I stared down their fathers. It wasn’t a big deal but I was just fed up with everything and anything and everything was annoying and irritating at that point. I at least felt the comfort of knowing that I felt close enough to her to share that and I my spirits were lifted when she actually sat down and made me smile by dropping a line from Dumb and Dumber. That’s mostly where my malaise ended even thought I had more troubles later in the evening from my MS Outlook not working to getting a stomach ache to just feeling bored with my roommate.

It is indeed contemplative days like this when I realize that something needs to change about my day-to-day. There’s not much time to make sweeping changes at the moment because of my tight fall schedule but I know I must fight hard to make this work. It’s easy to make excuses and I know all about that–which is why I’m not going to let my lack of time be the reason I don’t put in the effort to get exercise at least a couple times a week or make sure I eat the healthy foods I used to eat all the time.

To some degree, I feel like I need the support of my wife more than anything but if you give me a few seconds to think that one through, I’ll turn it around because I know that I am the leader of this household and my attitude and choices often prevail. It starts at the top to put it another way. We’ll see how it goes when I get back to the East Bay tomorrow afternoon. It’s tough knowing that I’ll need to do laundry and get packed to depart for Hawai’i on Wednesday morning but this is the life I chose and I always feel like what doesn’t kill me can only make me stronger. I will be a better person for having endured all the stuff that irks me. I’m certainly looking forward to emerging on the other side.

For not, here’s to hoping my next 1500-word essay about my once-in-a-while depression days doesn’t come along for a while.

Recession Ridiculousness

Aug 27

Posted by Jer in Fire | 1 Comment

I’m sitting on the bus on the way to Reno, Nev. for the first volleyball tournament of the year and this thought popped into my head: what is this recession all about exactly? It’s not as if paying for things as a resident of the Bay Area has ever been easy, but as one of the many University of California employees who have been hit with a pay cut and mandatory furlough, I feel like I am owed some sort of explanation.

While I’m not part of a workers union, I’ve been receiving e-mails from some union leader who has been calling for the removal of UC Regent president Mark Yudof. Under his watch, the regents approved the furlough plan and only moments later, also approved a plan to create several high-paying positions in the UC system and pay raises for many high-level executives.

Okay, so even though that’s somewhat tough to swallow, it’s not what really irks me about having to live through this recessional period of American history. What bugs me is parking. Parking is perhaps one of the most irritating things about working at the Berkeley campus and even though it is expensive, it is the most financially viable plan for both April and I. It hurts most that places like the parking and transportation department continues to raise its prices even though we’re forced to take pay cuts. Doesn’t that department also receive the same death-tolling e-mails that the rest of the university receives from the vice chancellor? You would think they would come up with some sort of plan to even things out for everyone involved. I mean, since at the very least, every UC employee is taking a four percent pay cut, shouldn’t parking also now cost four percent less? The very short answer to that rhetorical question would be “no”.

I don’t know who actually makes money in this parking and transportation department but I find it hard to believe that they are incurring so many new expenses from year to year that they have to raise the costs of anything and everything they have in their products and services menu. Honestly, whatever it costs to run that department cannot possibly be as much as that department is taking in. They continue to rake the pot when everyone else suffers. It’s just detestable that not only are all UC employees going to be having a harder time living the day to day because of less pay, but that a portion of the system has decided that it is okay to add another stone to the pile we’re all carrying already.

I’m sure there are plenty more examples of this type of unexplainable recessional madness around the country but this one happens to grate on me the most these days. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I got a silly parking ticket indirectly because I lent my parking pass to someone who decided to stop their car in an unmarked area. I contested the citation but received a note from the parking and transportation department which upheld the citation complete with photos of this girl’s car and all. That might have been what really set me off. Hopefully, this girl will help me pay the ticket considering I really didn’t do anything wrong.

If you’ve got some stories of recessional inadequacies to share, please do. I’d love to know how my fellow man is being kicked while down in other parts of the world.

Close Call

Aug 20

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

I’ve blogged before about the poor quality of the drivers in the Bay Area. Yes, I know that I could run into that mess anywhere but there is something about the sheer volume of terrible drivers up here that eats at you as a resident of this place. Of course, this morning, April and I couldn’t even escape Alameda without running into some form of stupidity behind the wheel. This experience on the way to BART is typical of our mornings but this particular incident was a particularly close call.

We were heading north on Webster towards the tube and were going through the intersection of Webster and Buena Vista when I noticed a Volvo wagon approaching the little merging lane quite fast. I had already begun to pass the opening of said lane when I saw that the driver was not slowing down. I was almost certain I was going to get hit on the right side so I punched the horn and stayed on it as long as I needed to. At the same time, I moved to the left as much as I could and nearly touched the driver in the lane next to mine so as to provide more space for Mr. Stupid on my right. Luckily, my horn probably alerted the white car on my left to look out in case I move any closer and make contact. I’m not positive, but I think the driver finally slowed down, although out of the right mirror, I saw that he was millimeters from touching our Camry.

As our culprit came into full view of my rear-view mirror, my heart rate began to slow and of course, the person who was originally behind me slammed on the brakes and honked their horn as well. As worried as I had been, I was able to laugh it off and congratulate myself on being a good defensive driver even amongst some rampant stupidity. Of course, right then, I see in the rear view that the driver cuts off another car in the left lane so that they could get to the left-turn lane. What I don’t understand is why this driver did not wait for all the cars to go by since it would have taken approximately the same amount of time anyway. I suppose this is why I consider Alameda drivers to be among the worst of the worst in the East Bay. We see them every day and every day, the stupid never ceases to amaze us.

So many thoughts ran through my mind as I moved to avoid being hit. From imagining the impact of the contact to hearing April’s dad’s voice in my head saying “it’s time to get a new car, Jeremy”. Thankfully, this was just a close call and nothing worse. I live to drive another day.

Spa Treatment

Aug 15

Posted by Jer in Fire | 1 Comment

Even though I got to bed at 5 a.m. this morning, I couldn’t go back to sleep after I woke up five hours later. I decided that this would be a good time to go to the gym downstairs. Of course, having booked two suites at the Wynn Encore, I assumed that we had free use of the fitness center. After scaring Jon by waking him up to ask for his room key, I made my way to the Spa/Pool level. I approached the receptionist desk to ask about getting a towel and she pointed out the bin before asking if I had my day pass with me.

I had not heard about needing a day pass so I asked a couple of questions and learned that even if you have a room in the hotel, the passes are $30 for a single day or $75 for a three-day pass. I feigned needing to check with my roommates before getting a pass charged to the room and came back upstairs. I cannot believe a hotel of this caliber would need to charge for use of its fitness center. Of course, when you’re a hotel of this caliber, you can charge for anything and charge as much as you’d like. I should mention that the day pass also gets you access to the spa but even when I asked if I needed a pass just to use the exercise equipment, the answer was yes. I actually considered going to the stairwell and running up to the 52nd floor but thought better of that idea. Oh, well.