My Tale of WOE

First off, I'd like to say a special *thank you* to those of you that commented on the whole Vacuum Gate situation that doth goith on in my house.

A lot of you emailed me privately as well to wax eloquent, not only about vacuums, but about being married to an engineer, and I thought that was awesome.

It made me realize that I need to start a support group for Wives of Engineers. We could call it "WOE" - get it? (Wives Of Engineers for those of you that haz the dumb today.) I think it's fitting. I'm pretty sure it would be a LARGE and RELIEVED group that could get together and drink heavily without judgement. All the exchanging tales of common and predictable behavior would be a joyous time together, no? 

Anyhoo, this past Saturday night would have made for an excellent WOE story telling moment. 

We'd just finished installing the baseboards into our teenage daughter's bedroom and I wanted hubs to finally HANG some shit up on the wall for CRYING OUT LOUD. I wanted to do that as soon as we'd finished painting eons ago; he said NO, that was OUT OF ORDER, that we hang LAST. So I've waited impatiently for 3 effing months to hang stuff up. My simple wish was for one of those paper orb lights to hang over our daughter's bed and some other paper orb things sans lights to hang in the middle of her room. Plus various other mirrors and pictures, invisible bookshelves etc to make it as "teenage zen-like" as possible. (Cuz I'm the coolest mom ever, yo!)

Finally agreeing to help me hang things (probably because I'd been threatening to do it myself, and he knows if I follow through with my threat, it won't be "to his liking" so he'll have to re-do it anyway) out come the levels, the plumb line, tape, pencils, hammers, 29 different colored wall anchors, the drill, and about 422 different sizes of drill bits. You know, just in case. You've got to be PREPARED to do this stuff properly. Can't be hanging stuff all Willy Nilly and shit. 

At this point I was so ecstatic things were going to be permanently hung, I didn't care; I was willing to stand on my head while handing him his tools with my toes if he so required it of me.

After 10 minutes of working flawlessly together, there was suddenly a snafu. Of all the things that held up our progress, the worst issue became the paper globe with the nightlight in it. Oh for the love of everything that is holy, did I want to go postal over this one. It required yet another pit stop to Lowe's (our local money dumping facility) to find *just the right* cable holder thingys that go in the corner of a wall. You know, THESE things:

We'd already been to Lowe's THREE TIMES that day, but in the car we went.

At first it would seem that Lowe's didn't have the right kind. Too big, too small... My 6'4" manly Goldilocks about blew a damn gasket over not having the precise one. But alas, after 26 minutes of combing the aisles, we located the little boogers. 

After those were safely in hand, I timidly expressed my *creative Pinteresty wish* to get all crafty and hang these OTHER cool cute paper orb things I got from my friend Malinda's baby shower a week ago... right in the middle of our daughter's room, from the ceiling. Well that sent him into a tailspin, searching for the appropriate "hooks" to "ruin" (according to him) the ceiling with.

I quickly grabbed those 3M plastic sticky-backed picture hanging things and said "What's wrong with these? Why can't I just use clear fishing line and stick them to the ceiling with these?"

He looked at me as if I'd shot him in the chest.

Hubs: "I don't think that's a good idea. That's not the proper way to do it."
Me: Wha? "How do you know? They don't WEIGH anything, it's like hanging feathers."
Hubs: "Fine, whatever. Ruin the ceiling then. It's late, I'm tired, let's just go."

It was late (8:47 on a Saturday night, yeah, I know, we need to get a life) and I had to remind myself that Grumpy McSnappy pants had just had surgery on his teeth 2 days before... surgery that went horribly wrong when the lovely dentist drilled an extra HOLE through his jaw bone. (Yick.)

All the way home I contemplated 
a) how I got away with it and 
b) how I was going to actually ruin the ceiling. 

Cuz I was pretty sure I'd never hear the end of it if I actually DID ruin the ceiling, and this was one of my only shots to prove that there isn't just ONE way to do something. 


Here is a pic of the end result... I think it turned out lovely, and sweet teenage daughter was tickled to death when she came home from her sleepover the next day to her new and improved room:

Some days I want to be my own daughter. Seriously. 

But the best part of the whole experience?
Hubs said it actually wasn't such a bad idea to use those sticky thingys after all. 
Gasp!

Score one for the founding member of WOE!

What's that you say? 
You showed up here to read about bad resumes and want me to shut up about home improvement and engineers in general?

Well then (as my totally non-PC cool boss man would say) KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON! I'M GETTING TO IT!

There never seems to be a lack of material... so whom shall I pick on today? 

This is a shot of my blog writing folder... EACH ONE of those pieces of paper could be an entire blog posting. 

There are more than 500 sheets of paper there. Y'all relax now, those of you that are worried about my material "drying up" and have even emailed me to say so. While I think it's touching you are worried I won't have anything to say about job seekers being moronic, never fear, the stupidity is rampant.

Now!
Here's a few I've gathered up most recently- a lovely hodge podge of insanity for you:


This was a direct message to me from Ruth. This message is all that came in with her resume:
"hi, well honestly i don't drive, but maybe i could do a few parts of the job?"
A "few" parts? Oh honey, that's not how it works out here in real-live-job land.

"I am a highly qualified and results-driffen Operations Mangment professional." 
Driffen?
Underneath that sentence, this was his job description:
"Remove staples, paperclips and tape. Then shred."
That's ALL he listed.
Pffft. "Operations Mangment Professional" my ASS.

This note came in, submitted along with a very confusing resume: 
"I am not your person!"
THEN WHY DID YOU APPLY DINGLE BERRY?
Oh wait, maybe this is why... because he (she?) signed it with SEVEN DIFFERENT NAMES.
"Litlin, Boris, Galina, Bales, Vlad, Mari and Johnny."
Perhaps they got confused and were fighting amongst each other over whether to apply or not?

Allan started his resume off with this at the top of it: "I retired in January 2010."
Really? Just for the record- don't lead with your "I retired" foot, people.

Rachel applied to one of my customer service type positions that requires heavy phone responsibilities:
"I am really interested in the job. i do not have an active phone but i am really interested in the job. so can you please provide a phone number where i can reach you, i can be sure to call you."
How? 
How will you accomplish this? 

On the flip side of Rachel's brilliant statement is Ramone's:
"If you wish to contact me; please do so with the contact information provided."
As opposed to what? Subliminally?

And last but certainly not least, I think the best one I randomly pulled out of my magical folder today comes from Eric:
"My name is Eric Bly S____. I live in _______ California which I have me entire life. I am 19 turning 20 in a few years. I have currently completed 2 years of college and will be starting into my 4th."
WTF? How has Eric accomplished anything? After those opening few phrases, I'd be impressed if he could brush his teeth properly.

Peace out my peeps!