China

I’ve never been to China before. It is incredible. The new parts of town are like any major city in the US - but newer and bigger and bolder - wow. Big buildings, wide roads, lots of lights, traffic, hustle and bustle. The old parts are a jumble of old and dirty and traditional and crowded. China is poised to become the second largest economy, anyone who doubts that they will become the first before too long should have a visit.

The food is amazing. I like Chinese food, but never thought much of it. But after tasting the food here, I get it. I know what the places in the USA are trying to make. Last night I had a simple pork and noodle dish, but the flavor was just amazing. I know I’ll never be able to replicate it, but I’m going to try. It was awesome.

There is a lot of weird food, too. They eat a lot of organ meat, tendons, fat, and other things I have a hard time with. During one breakfast with my hosts I had a dish which ensures that the eater will advance a station in life - yeah, it was that good.

Now I'm on my way home from Cheng-du, to Beijing, to Tokyo, to San Francisco - 19 hours en route. Fortunately, business class once I get to Beijing.
______________

In other news, I got a text from paddle-girl:

Dawn Patrol? Sunday?

I responded:

Depends on the jet lag

No further calls from Heidi. Hrmph.
_____________

I wrote this in the airport in Cheng-du on Friday - but it failed to post (darn chinese censors!) Anyway, reposting now - san pics. Blogger is being difficult with my travel photos. Grrr.

Ohayo Gozaimasu

Greetings from Osaka.

The last week has been both amazing and hectic.

Arrived in Tokyo on Tuesday afternoon, well rested and ready to go. Man I love business class. They put me up in the Hyatt in Shinjuku. Nice place. Wandered around the neighborhood on Tuesday night after checking in. Turns out east of the train station is, um, the wrong side of the tracks as it were. While I was walking around an elderly well dressed japanese man asked me in impecable english if I was interested in "a nice young japanese girl." When I declined he looked confused - "perhaps a boy?" Again I politely declined. He asked me what I was looking for - I'm pretty sure that, for a price, he would have acquired it for me. I told him that I may have just wandered into the wrong part of town.

Getting up on Wednesday morning, I had a beautiful view of Mt Fuji from my room. Turns out that is a really rare occurrence - Mt. Fuji is visible from Tokyo about 15 days a year. It was quite a treat.

After meetings on Wednesday, the folks I was with invited me out to dinner. Those folks can really drink. First, we went out for sake. We hit a place that had about 150 different sakes. I had never had so many different kinds before. Toward the end things started to get fuzzy, but I do recall some really good and distinct sakes. Then we went to a place for sushi. It was amazing. You can't get sushi like this in America. I really like the tuna, blue fin - although I eat this rarely as it is being fished into extinction - yellow fin, albacore (yes, chicken of the sea - but damn tasty as sushi). However, I cannot stomach the mollusks - squid, octopus, cuttlefish, uni (sea urchin). Once my hosts uncovered this squeamishness they took great delight in trying to get me to eat raw dead squishy things. I did not embarrass myself. Sushi was consumed with many large (about 1 liter) glasses of Asahi beer. After all this, we went to a japanese pub - for yet more drinking. Very cool old japan decor. Lots more beer.

I got back to the hotel near midnight and crashed - hoping I could get up in the morning for yet more work.

Thursday evening I took the Shinkansen for Osaka. Friday was busy with work, but Saturday I had to myself. I visited Osaka-jo - the medieval japanese castle. I was quite disappointed to discover that it was a reconstruction - completed in 1997 and is made of concrete and has elevators and air conditioning. From the outside it looks really amazing and the grounds were wonderful.

I'm off to china.

Scars

Badges of honor, or ugly disfigurement??

Today, at work, we recognized a significant accomplishment. To mark the occasion, the company passed out commemorative T-shirts and we took a company photo on the lawn out in front of the building. All were required to don the new T shirt and pose.

The T-shirts were short sleeve.

I have some very bad scars on my left arm from a car accident. As a result, I usually (well, always) wear long sleeved shirts - so no one needs to see the ugliness.

So for picture taking day, I brought along a long sleeve white tee shirt, which I wore under the company one. Kristen, VP of marketing and company fashionista, did not approve. "Rich, that just does not work. Take off the long sleeve shirt." She ordered, before the photo shoot.

"I can't"

"Why not?"

I rolled up my left sleeve to expose some of the scaring.

"What?" she asked.

"The scars. They're all over my arm. I don't want to ruin the picture."

"What happened?" She asked.

I explained about the car crash - the drunk driver (it's all in some old post).

"Oh, for goodness sake." she scoffed. "No one will see it. There are 40 people in the picture - you won't be able to see the texture of the skin on your arm."

"I'm really not that comfortable exposing it."

"Rich, people with scars are much more interesting. You should wear it proudly as part of what made you who you are today. Don't hide it. Scars are a badge of honor."

No, scars are just an ugly disfigurement. They are not a source of pride. At least that's my point of view. There's nothing cool about looking ugly, and nothing cool about almost losing an arm.

I left my shirt on.

The CEO was wearing his jacket (over the T shirt - that didn't work either)

But what about the scars you can't see? The ones on the inside. I doubt I'll ever get over what Lynn did to me. It's a scar I'll carry on my soul forever.

Badge of honor?

Ugly disfigurement?

How does one tell the difference?

The New Guy

I tried to find a visual for this post - but no. You'll see.

We hired a new guy at work. He's a Chinese guy. Went to U.C. Berkeley.

Nice guy.

His name is Hung.

I'm not making this up.

My favorite pick-up line used to be: Walk up to a pretty girl, look her in the eye, give her my most winning smile, and say "Hi, I'm Rich"

The new guy, he's gonna be my wing man. I can't wait.

We'll walk into a bar. Walk up to a pretty girl, look her in the eye, give her my most winning smile and say "Hi, I'm Rich, and this is my friend. He's Hung. You can have Rich, or Hung. Aw, hell, you're really cute, you can have Rich and Hung."

He's kinda old school Chinese, and shy. I'm not sure he's really up for it. But it'd be so damn funny.

Shareholder Interest

On Friday the CEO asked me to lunch. Most folks at the company eat in the makeshift kitchen in the office that the company stocks. It’s free to the employees and the company will buy almost anything that you put on a shopping list (smoked salmon and French brie are regularly stocked – but my request for caviar was deemed over the top). Our CEO seems to always goes out for lunch.

We went to Birk’s, a Silicon Valley institution for power lunches. It was clear that they knew him well. They have really good food and it is close to the office.

After some idle chitchat and project status talk, he got to the point.

“So, Rich, you and Kristen have become fairly good friends.”

“Uh, yeah.” I was beginning to get a bit worried about this – but we had not done anything worth worrying about.

“I noticed that on Saturday you came to work with her.”

“Uh, yeah,”

“I also noticed that your car was in the parking lot overnight.”

“Uh, yeah.” Sometimes I’m a brilliant conversationalist. I really wanted to know where he was going with this before I said anything. I usually keep my mouth shut when I’m unsure of things.

“What you do on your own time is none of my business, and I’m not going to intrude on your personal lives. But I do have a responsibility to the investors of the company that we not expose then to any unnecessary liability.”

“OK.”

“Rich, I want you to come to me if you ever feel there is any inappropriate pressure from anyone in management.”

“OK.”

“Rich, do you feel that Kristen has created a hostile work environment for you or has she made any unwanted sexual advances towards you?” He seemed to emphasize the word “unwanted.”

“No not at all.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I was beginning to wonder if he was wearing a microphone and recording this for his legal team.

“OK, last thing – and I want you to be very clear on this – if that changes, if anyone creates a hostile work environment, or makes any unwanted sexual advances towards you – or anyone else in the company for that matter – I want you to come to me immediately.”

“OK. Sure.” I really wanted to joke, “so that you don’t get left out, right?” but I held my tongue.

“And, Rich," he said taking a more conversational tone, "next time you have a sleepover with Kristen, please try to be a little more discreet. Everyone in the office saw you two arrive together – it wasn’t hard to figure out what happened.” My blood went cold at the word “sleepover” it sounded so inappropriate coming from him. Kind of like a banker excusing himself to go to the “potty” – I know I’m just being paranoid – he couldn’t be reading my blog. No, not possible.

“Sorry, but I didn’t think it was a big deal.” I replied.

“Office romances tend to exacerbate office politics – which hurts morale and productivity. It really helps if fewer people know about it.”

“Um, just for the record – Kristen and I are not in a romantic relationship.”

“Oh?” he asked skeptically – obviously not believing my answer.

“No. She was recently dumped by her boyfriend (I almost said lover) and wanted some company. We had dinner and drinks and complained about our former partners.”

“And you stayed overnight” he said, stating and already established fact, “why?”

“We were drinking, heavily. Driving would not have been a good way to end the night. She has a guest bedroom. Nothing happened”

“I see. I heard about her boyfriend. So this was just an 80 proof bitch session?” He smiled – he looked relieved.

“Yeah. Completely innocent and platonic.”

Dinner?

I always wondered what it would be like to drive a $100,000 car to work.

It wasn’t as fun as I had imagined it might be.

Last night I was out with Kristen and she had a bit too much to drink. I drove her home in her car and then took it to my house. It is a pretty new Mercedes 550SL convertible. I knew that if I totaled it my insurance wouldn’t cover me. Kristen’s insurance probably would, but that’s not the point. I wasn’t too worried about totaling it. I was more worried about getting a scratch in it.

The car is amazing. You put a card in your pocket and when you walk away from it, it locks and sets the alarm. When you walk up to it, it unlocks and you can drive it away. Driving it to work it sure got me a lot of attention. I had the top down and got lots of glances and waves from the other commuters. Once again I drove slowly and carefully. It sure would be a lot more fun to drive if I wasn’t so worried about messing it up.

Later this evening I was eating dinner with Kristen in the kitchen at the office. I was having a microwaveable deep dish pizza. She had built a sandwich.

“How do you handle the weekends?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Being at home, alone. I mean, that’s the worst – for me at least.”

“Alcohol abuse helps. Exercise to the point of exhaustion. I have 2 housemates, that helps, too. I was really getting better – until I was out at the Mt. View wine festival and saw them together. Man, that one really screwed me up again.”

“You ran into them? Together? All happy and in love?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, Rich, that had to hurt. Hey, can you come over Friday night? I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’d be happy to. Do you want to do dinner somewhere? Or should I cook for you?”

“Oh, Rich, cook, please. Make me some Jambalaya. I’ll provide some really good wine and great conversation.”

“That sounds like a fair trade. But not Jambalaya, besides that goes better with beer than wine. I have a better dish in mind. Are you willing to help cook?”

“Sure.”

“This dish is better than a month of therapy.”

“I’m not sure how food works as therapy, but I’m game. Should I get anything?”

“Have a bottle of champagne on hand. I’ll bring everything else.”

“Something to celebrate?” She sounded confused.

“No, I know it’s incongruous, but it’s an essential ingredient. You’ll see.”

Anger Management

Kristen has been storming around the office for the last week or so – she’s been a real bitch. There’s no other way to put it. On Mondays we have a status meeting (Tuesday this week) – I’m told this is by design, so that if you have work that didn’t get done by Friday you have the weekend to catch up before anyone notices. Make the status meetings on Friday, and folks get dinged for being late then take off for the weekend. Seems like a dirty conspiracy to make us work more. Although, being so recently unemployed I’m not complaining.

Anyway, at the meeting, Kristen asks me about some changes to the project plans.

“I wasn’t aware of any changes. When did this happen?”

“On Saturday.” She roared at me. “Rich, this is an internet startup not a damn country club. We need to get this to market before anyone else. That means giving it all you have. This is not a 9 to 5 job. You should have been here Saturday instead of out playing with your boats. If this project is successful everyone in this room will be handsomely paid. If you’re not willing to put in the effort, make room for someone who will. There are a lot of folks who would give everything they have to be working with this team.” She looked away in disgust. She turned back to me and said softly, but with venom, “Rich, your goofing off could cost everyone in this room millions.”

I sat stunned. I had been putting in a pretty healthy effort – and getting my work done early. Generally, I was doing more than expected. But I was spending a fair amount of time paddling. I still have a lot of trouble sleeping – I usually wake up around 5 – I’ve hardly bothered with breakfast since the breakup. So I grab a granola bar and some fruit and go paddling for an hour or so. I usually get back home by 7. I shower and shave and am in the office by 8. If I don’t paddle I’m in at 6. The average start time is 11. We usually work though lunch and dinner – which is provided by the company. I usually go home between 9 and 10. Most folks knock off around 11. If I’m thoroughly exhausted I go to sleep after arriving home. If I start tossing and turning I’ll pull out the laptop and go until I can’t keep my eyes open – about 2 a.m. I work about half of the Saturdays and Sundays – but usually only for 6 to 8 hours. Once or twice a week I’ll have dinner with a friend, and knock off at 6 or 7. All told I think I’m averaging about 75 hours a week.

I did agree to see Sarah on Thursday night – but the rest of my week was clear. I could out last everyone else if they needed to see a show of effort.

“Hey.” Wayne, my boss, said raising his hands. “Rich has been good worker. He had his cell, you could have called him if you needed him. He’s been keeping up with everyone – he puts in at least as many hours as you do.”

“I don’t give a shit about how many hours he puts in.” Kristen yelled, now aimed at Wayne. “We need results. He needs to produce.”

Wayne looked at [the CEO]. “He does produce.” He looked up at Kristen. “Can we have a moment?” He stood up and took Kristen outside of the conference room.

[The CEO] laughed nervously and shook his head – most folks followed suit. There are 16 people in the company now, and we all fit in the conference room. We could hear yelling outside, but the words were muffled and unrecognizable. After about 2 minutes [the CEO] stood up and went to the door. “Hey, guys, we have work to do here. Can you resolve this later?”

Kristen and Wayne came back in the conference room, but you could feel the tension.

]Whatever she and Paul are going through, I hope they work it out soon.

Today I left a bottle of Zinfandel on Kristen’s desk, with a brief note that said “You seem a little down lately. I hope this helps. – Rich.”

I got e-mail from her a couple of hours later. “Thanks” was all it said.

Save the Leopard

“Oh, please” Kristen was at the door to my cubicle. I had been wearing my new clothes from my recent make-over. Before dropping back to my standard jeans and t-shirts I was transitioning though some medium grungy clothes. I was wearing tan dockers and a long sleeve navy polo. “Those clothes are sooo staid. Pleeease tell me that you have a leopard skin G-string on under those.”

“Actually, I am wearing…”

“Aaah” she interrupted. She has a habit of doing this. “Don’t tell me. I want to preserve the illusion.”

I was going to tell her that I was wearing “a low rise mesh bikini brief” (a line from a Bill Murray movie) but it was probably best not to say anything. I’m embarrassed to say what I was actually wearing.

She sat down and we talked about work stuff for a while (I won’t bore you). It was about 7:30 at night, but the office was buzzing. Long hours are the rule here.

She finished up with the shop talk and said “You look sad”.

I smiled weakly. “Yeah, I recently lost someone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did they.. “ she paused, putting her hand over her mouth, deciding on which euphemism for dead she would use, “pass on?”

“No,” I said almost laughing, “no, nasty break-up. Just heartbroken, that’s all.”

She laughed. “Oh, I don’t mean to make light of it. Were you with her long?”

OK, so here it would sound stupid. Yeah, we were together for 3 weeks and now I’m clinically depressed – I’m psycho! “Uh, I’ve known her since college. We were really close.” That wasn’t technically a lie, but it was misleading.

“Did it just happen?”

“I don’t mind talking about it, but we need to do this over a glass of wine or something.” I was a bit uncomfortable discussing it here at work.

“I know just the place. Let’s go” she said, almost ordering me. We took her Mercedes (top up, it was raining slightly) and went to a wine bar near the office. It was a nice place with a really good selection of wines by the glass. She knew the bartender – we took a table near the bar and she got me a merlot. She had something white.

I started to tell her all about Lynn. After about 15 minutes Paul (her lover) came in. He walked over to Kristen and kissed her. He pulled up a chair close to her, then went to the bartender and got a beer. He hung up Kristen’s coat – which was hanging on the back of her chair. He is incredibly attentive. I know why she calls him her lover. He brought her some crab cakes and then settled in close to her. He seemed completely uninterested in the story of Lynn.

I think Kristen took an instant dislike of Lynn. “Did you ever figure out what she saw in Jim?” she asked me.

“No, but she says she likes older men.” Tim is quite a bit older than her, too – but he is probably shy of 40 by a couple years. “She says they are housebroken – they know not to leave the toilet seat up, they pick up after themselves.”

“Sounds like someone should put a leash on her” Kristen said with some bitterness. I was oddly offended by this - I almost protested.

After we had been there for a couple of hours and had a few glasses of wine and enough appetizers to make a decent dinner Paul started to get restless. “We should go.” Kristen said. Paul grabbed her coat and put it on her. She kissed him and sent him on ahead. “I’ll see you at home in a few minutes” she said to him – almost dismissing him.

“So Rich, can you help me pick-up something large?” Kristen asked when Paul was outside. You make a lot of friends when you have a pickup truck.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I bought Paul a kayak from a shop up in Oakland.”

“What kind?”

She pulled a piece of paper from her purse and read from it “A ‘Boreal Designs Ellesmere Kevlar’ that’s bullet proof, right? In case someone is shooting at him. ‘Kevlar 17-foot touring kayak’”

“Wow, that’s a great boat." (For you non-kayakers, this is a very high-end boat) A bit much for a beginner – but a really nice kayak. "What's the occasion?” This kind of boat needs to be special ordered.

“Nothing, I just wanted to buy him something nice.”

That was amazing. That she would go out and buy him something like that – well she has the money for it. And then I realized it. And I said it, normally I wouldn't but I had a few glasses of wine in me - “He’s a kept man, isn’t he?” I asked. “You… you.. you have a kept man. In your house. Just like a little pet. You just take him out any time you want and, well…”

She looked down and then smiled up at me though a few strands of hair, looking both sheepish and proud at the same time. She actually batted her eyelashes at me.

“I’m impressed” I said. I think she blushed slightly. “I wish I had that.”

“Which?” She asked “To keep someone or be kept?”

“Either.” To have the resources to keep a woman, or to be so sexy as to be wanted to be kept by someone who has achieved so much would be wonderful, I though.

“Really?” She asked.

“Sure.”

“You could be a kept man?”

I thought about it again for a minute. Frankly, if a woman could keep me in the manner in which I would like to become accustomed (like Paul), then, yes, I would really like it. “Yeah, I could.” I said.

She wrinkled her forehead. “Huh.”

I think I lost a few respect points from her. But I was being honest, and besides – she is the one with a kept man.

Cheese Doodles

“So you are the one that put brie on the shopping list. I’m impressed. Most engineers are satisfied with cheese doodles”

It was Kristen, the VP of marketing at my new place of employment – or as it says on her business card, Marketing Goddess. She also used to work with the CEO at his last company and also made a lot of money. She drives a fairly new Mercedes SL convertible. She is very flamboyant – I guess as any good marketeer should be. She is a strikingly beautiful woman. Not cute and girlish, not even soft or feminine – but very beautiful. She is almost as tall as I am – maybe 5’ 9” or 5’ 10” in flats (I’m 6' 1”)

Anyway, she came into the makeshift kitchen – a corner of the leased office space with a refrigerator, sink and counter, and a file cabinet doing double duty as a pantry. She caught me eating a big slab of brie on a chunk of crusty French bread.

“I’m impressed they bought it” I replied to Kristen “and imported French brie at that. Most companies are satisfied with offering cheese whiz.”

She laughed at me. “We have that, too.” She opened with door to the pantry and pulled out an aerosol can containing an unnaturally bright orange cheese flavored product.

She pulled off a hunk of bread and put some brie on it. She pulled up a chair at the table and joined me for lunch. We chatted amiably about nothing much at all. After a while Pete came into the lunch room and went straight for the pantry. He pulled out a box of crackers and the cheese whiz. He assembled a cracker and cheese whiz sandwich and popped it in his mouth. Then after a couple of chews, he tilted his head back and sprayed on an extra dose of the orange goo. Kristen and I looked at each other and giggled. Pete seemed to sense he was being made fun of – and stalked off with his lunch, giving us a “what’s so funny” look.

“So Rich, I’m having a small dinner party at my house next Saturday night. Are you free?”

“Yes.” Trying hard not to sound bitter, I added “my social calendar seems to be rather open lately.”

“Well, that’s probably a good thing if you are working here. Do you like Lobster?”

“Lobster is great.” I said.

“Do you have a, uh, partner of any sort? Or will it just be you.”

“Uh, just me.”

“I’ll e-mail you directions.”

Later I got an e-mail with the subject “crustaceans”. It was addressed to me and 2 other people. It turns out that her significant other is returning from Boston on Friday. He is bringing a small crate of live lobsters with him.

Sounds delicious.

Life as a county music song

On Saturday afternoon I grabbed my kayak and headed for the bay (San Francisco Bay). The bay is not a great place for kayaking – it smells and it's choppy when there is any wind and there is a fierce current when the tides go in and out. I didn't have a paddling partner. One really should not kayak alone, but I was not really worried about my life. If I die, so what? There was a low tide at about 4:00 – I paddled from 3:30 to about 5:30. If I got exhausted, the tide would carry me toward shore. I went nearly 16 kilometers in that time. An average speed of 8.5 KPH – which is pretty good on my slow boat (necky zoar sport), especially since I haven’t been out in a while. Really, I over did it. I was paddling angry. Nothing like working the frustrations out on the water.

Exhausting myself, I was able to get a little bit of sleep Saturday night – but mostly I tossed and turned and thought about what was going on in a small apartment in Los Gatos. I’ve been dumped before, but it’s never been like this. This really hurts.

On Sunday I woke up with every muscle in my upper body aching. I went into the office and poured myself into my work. It’s another good way to dull the pain without abusing my body. There were several people there the whole time I was. I went home late, about 8:00 p.m.

I called my mom that evening. I had been ignoring the family for a while – too much going on in my life.

It turns out – and I am not making this up, life is worse than fiction – my dog died last week. Well, not any pet that I have now, my folks bought him when I was in high school. For a while he was my dog. OK, he was old, in his late teens. Somehow in all this misery that has been heaped upon me, this put me over. I went out to the deck and sat and cried my eyes out in the cold. I skipped dinner.

I am living in hell – worse, in a bad country western song. I lost my job, my girl, my best friend, my drinking buddy. And my dog died.

One more thing – the warranty on my truck just expired. I'm sure the transmission will fall out tomorrow.

The New Job

Lynn and I woke up to the alarm for the first time since moving into the apartment. I watched her dress for work. She put on my favorite camisole. She is sexy even while getting dressed. I cooked her a quick breakfast and got my things together for my first day at the new job. After cleaning up the kitchen, I headed out. She followed me to my truck like a puppy, and gave me a long kiss through the window before I left. She is so wonderful. We have dinner reservations tomorrow night at the Flea Street Café.

Life at a startup is pretty different from a large company. I got to work about 10, as agreed with Wayne, my new boss. There were only a couple of people there (well, there’s only a dozen in the whole company.) Most people arrived between 10 and noon.

Wayne showed me around. They have great coffee – an automatic grinder and coffee maker combination. Looks like caffeine is the stimulant of choice around here. They have a fully stocked kitchen, cold cuts and breads for sandwiches, frozen dinners, hot pockets - all manner of unhealthy over processed but convenient food. There is a shopping list and you can add anything that you want. Teri, the office manager makes twice weekly Costco and Safeway runs to stock up. I put club soda down on the list – I drink the stuff by the gallon. The nickel tour didn’t take all that long – the place has about 15 cubicles, one conference room and one office – for the CEO.

Wayne explained the working environment and the software that I would be working on. This took a couple of hours. Then I was taken to lunch with most of the company. After lunch I got started on my first assignment. It was pretty straightforward, Wayne though it should take about a month to complete.

I called Lynn in the afternoon. “Did you get a window office?”

“Yup”

“Over near Heidi and Tim?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“An interior cubicle. But they have a full kitchen. They have a shopping list you can put anything on. I added brie cheese to it. We’ll see if they buy it, but they have a smoked Gouda that is pretty good, so maybe.”

“We’ve got a pretty good cafeteria, gym, game room. It’s a pretty nice campus. What’s your password?”

So highschool. “OK, so, um it’s your name. How about you?”

“I used your initials. Does this mean we are going steady? Are you coming over tonight?”

“I need to get some laundry done. We have reservations at Flea St. tomorrow. We’re still on for Friday night?”

“Yup. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

God, Maurizio is right. The beginning of a new relationship is so wonderful. The sizzle, or whatever he called it, is awesome.

People worked pretty late at the new company. I was in until about 9, and no one had left. I called Lynn, but there was no answer either at her apartment or her cell. I had a frozen dinner from the company kitchen, worked a while longer and then headed home. I haven’t slept a lot lately ;-) so I'm tired, but it's a good kind of tired. I think I’ll sleep well tonight.

Moving Day

I made my decision about the jobs. I am going for the start-up. A little less money now, and perhaps a bit more work. But this is what I came to silicon valley for – to participate in technology innovation. And, perhaps, to get some financial reward beyond the salary. And the salary is more than adequate.

I called the hiring managers and let them know. Company A (the start-up) was pleased and asked for a start date. He wanted me to start today. I held him off to Monday. That’s when Lynn starts her new job, too. This gives us a long weekend – without me having the stress of unemployment looming over my head.

I called company B (big computer company) and let them know. They were disappointed asked if there was something in the offer that could be fixed to change my mind (cool, I hadn’t thought of that.) No. They thanked me for the interest blah, blah, blah.

--------------------------

One thing about having a truck is that you make a lot of friends really quickly. You do a lot of moves for these friends. I was happy to move Lynn out of her townhouse in Milpitas. Eric (former co-worker and all around good guy) came along to help. We lifted with heavy things and Lynn got all the knickknacks and light stuff. While we were dragging the heavy dresser out though the living room, Lynn came up behind me, grabbed my ass, and said “You’re so wonderful.” That’s all the payment that I need. (Usually I demand beer and pizza).

There was a for sale sign in the yard. I had forgotten that she owned the place with Jim. I don’t know how they did it, or what the split was.

We took all of her clothes, a dresser, a desk, a book shelf, one of the TVs. She had a bunch of boxes packed which we loaded onto my truck. She had her car stuffed with things. We packed up most of the firewood off the rear deck, I took that back to my place – her apartment does not have a fireplace. All told, it was a single trip.

When we got to the apartment, the bed had been delivered. It’s a waterbed called a somma. It’s a unique design, where the water is in these 6 foot long tubes that are about 8 inches in diameter. Very phallic. Needless to say, we had a great time filling the tubes and putting the bed together. There was a lot of giggling. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Once the bed was together we broke it in. I think I rather like the waterbed effect.

We then spent most of the evening shopping – for glasses, kitchenware, towels, basic food. Everything you need to set up a home. We found a really neat wine rack at Crate and Barrel - it only holds 8 bottles - which is not enough – so I bought 2. Tonight we’ll go to K and L wines and I’ll fill it up. A house warming gift.

We got some Chinese take-out from a place in downtown Los Gatos, and sitting the floor of her dining room – kitchen nook, really. I put up some pictures while she set up the kitchen.

We ended the day with a soak in the Jacuzzi. It was a cold night and I wrapped myself in a towel and ran for the pool (but I did at least bring my swim trunks). The warm water was wonderful on the tired muscles. After a while we went back to the apartment and stepped into the shower together. She was wearing a gray one piece bathing suit that zippered down the front. We undressed each other slowly and, ahem, well… got really, really clean.

I woke up at 3 in the morning tangled up in her limbs and sunk into the water bed. I was quite hungry, and was going to root around in the fridge. I woke her, unintentionally, while trying to untangle myself. She pulled me to her. Half asleep, we made love again.

Afterward, I snuck out to the kitchen and found a container of oreo cookie ice cream. Lynn wandered out. “There’s a naked man in my kitchen eating ice cream” she said with mock alarm.

“Then you should pull up a spoon and join him.” I replied as evenly as I could.

We finished the ice cream. I have a new favorite flavor.

When I left to go home this morning, she gave me a key to the apartment.

Lynn's new apartment

Lynn got her new apartment yesterday. I drove her over to the complex she selected in Los Gatos. After seeing a bunch of apartments with her, I knew that she would pick the one with the large bedroom and a big walk-in closet. The complex is pretty nice, with a pool and Jacuzzi, washers and dryers in the units and 24 hour security. It’s pretty expensive, but she got a nice raise with the new job.

She didn’t ask me to share the apartment with her. She told me that she needs some space and time to heal. I don’t really understand it, but the break up with Jim has been really hard on her. She was with him for about 4 years and they were engaged.

The apartment is just a few miles from her new job. And even closer to one of the companies that I have an offer from.

She signed all the paperwork in the rental office. She got 3 sets of keys, we walked over to the apartment she picked out and we went inside. It had the smell of new to it. We kissed. “Why didn’t we get together back in college?” she asked me while hugging me in the empty apartment.

“I don’t know", I replied. She was the cute – and smart – undergrad who was in a couple of my graduate level computer classes. She always got special attention from the TAs – who were always guys. She had very long black hair (which she still has) which is very eye catching. But this was not that distinctive, in Hawaii anyway. As I recall I tried to flirt with her, but got no response. Back then I was rather smitten with Karen – bit that’s a whole ‘nother story.

Later today we will be moving her stuff from her townhouse in Milpitas to her new apartment. A mutual friend who understands the situation has agreed to get Jim out of the house and keep him out for 4 hours. So we can get her stuff out without worrying about running into him.

“So which job are you going to take?” she asked.

“I’m still deciding. The commute to company B would be really convenient from here. But company A just seems like the right thing to do.”

“You’re going to pick company B. I know it.”

I got the job!

The offers come rolling in (finally). Yes, yesterday I got 2 offers for employment at companies that I would like to work for, and jobs that would be fun to do.

So, how to decide. Job A – it is at a small start-up at an office park in San Jose – located in a nondescript office park on Zanker Rd to be specific. They are offering a pretty good salary and a lot of stock options. The company is in the area of internet security and was founded by one of the luminaries of the internet boom. He is seriously rich from his last two start-ups. He brought the executive VP, and the director of marketing with him. There are 12 guys in the company – all are founders. I would be the first non-founder hired into the company. If they are anywhere near as successful as they have in the past – that should actually make me rich. My headhuntress tells me that the salary is a bit low, but the stock options are much better than she has seen for others in similar positions. There would be virtually no social life here. But the work would be a lot of fun.

Job B – is at a large company in South San Jose. You have heard of this company – even if you are not in the technology field. There are about four thousand folks at the location where I would be working. The commute from Lynn’s new apartment (at least the one I think she will settle on) is really easy. Perhaps I’m being presumptuous that I will be spending a lot of time there, but I have a feeling. The salary there is about 10% more, which is nice, but the stock options there are a bit limited. The company is really stable and the job should be quite safe. But there is little upside – no possibility of getting rich. The work would be fun.

How do you decide between two really good choices? I’ve never been good at this. When I go through one door, the other will close, permanently. It’s the permanence that bothers me. OK - commitment phobic? I guess, with a little indecisiveness thrown in. I need to sleep on this. I’ve told both hiring manager’s that I will decide and get back to them on Wednesday.

Confidence...

... worn well, makes the man.

I read that somewhere and it stuck with me.

When I go to an interview, I walk confidently into their office. I look squarely in the eyes of the manager I'm talking to. I give a firm, but not crushing handshake. I speak of my professional accomplishments with authority, but without arrogance. I have researched the company and I know where their weaknesses are, and I know how I can contribute. I ooze self assuredness and confidence.

But it's all an act.

Fact is, I'm scared shitless. Scared that I won't measure up. Scared of being judged. Scared of being rejected.

What I'm really afraid of is not getting a job, any job. I can live poor. It's not fun, but I can do it. And I know it's irrational, but I fear not being able to pay my rent, or buy food. Weird, huh?

But because of that, I throw everything I've got into every interview.

I walk out drained and spent. This is hard.

I wonder if I'll ever have confidence.

I see the other candidates, eager young faces, exuding confidence. Wanting to impress.

Walking out of an interview I caught a glimpse of a guy out of the corner of my eye. Shoulders square, head held high, walking with purpose and authority. And I was thinking, how - one day - I'll get it together like that guy. A second later, I realized it was my reflection in a wall of glass that I was seeing.

Damn, I'm good at faking it.

Try, Try Again

I have done 9 job interviews in the past two weeks (yeah, I was interviewing before I even got fired). I have had 3 callbacks. I guess this is a numbers game. If I get enough initial interviews, I’ll get a some callbacks, and ultimately a few offers. I’m starting to get used to the rejection. There will be more rejections than not – so I’d better start getting used to it.

I had an extended set of interviews with Tim’s company in Campbell. I had been working with that company in my old job, so I knew a bunch of folks already.

I finally got the chance to meet Heidi. Heidi does phone support for their engineering department and she has an amazingly sexy voice. It is some kind of European accent that I can’t really identify. In some ways it seems Austrian or German and at other times it seems French. Either way she really makes it sound sexy – kind of like Kathleen Turner as Jessica in “Roger Rabbit” but more exotic. So I figured she would look like an East German weightlifter steroid experiment gone awry. It is unlikely that someone with a voice that sexy would actually look like Kathleen Turner (well, back in 1981 – see “Body Heat”).

Turns out, she's a knock-out. Well, OK, not perfect, very pretty but a little heavy set. But frankly – women readers pay attention – a little curvature on a woman is not a bad thing. Hollywood sets the image that heroin addict thin is a good thing – well it’s not. Not for me, anyway. Nor lots of other guys I know.

Also, no ring. Hmmm, I'm still noticing such things.

The Big Job Hunt

Well, it’s time to get serious about the job hunt. I have been out looking for a new job for about 2 months now - but I haven't been really serious about it. Nothing like getting your ass fired to provide real motivation.

I also need to file for my unemployment benefits. Might as well get paid to do nothing. Fortunately I can do this on-line, and don't have to drag my ass down to some depressing government office.

Resume writing has always been a challenge. I’ve got about 10 years of experience. I have 3 patents on semiconductor design. I have 6 published papers in peer reviewed conferences and technical journals. Bachelor's of Science in Electrical Engineering, Masters in Computer Science. So there's a lot to go on there.

I called a friend who is a head hunter (head huntress??) and arranged for a meeting tomorrow. She says that there are quite a few positions that she could get me interviews for. In a panic I started calling all the working folks I know, to see if there are any available jobs. I must have e-mailed out 40 resumes, posted on monster.com, and surfed the web for any thing that looked like a job opening.

Deep down, I feel like I should be taking a vacation – I could really use an extended vacation, but panic at the prospect of prolonged poverty has me hyper-actively hunting. I toy with the idea of going to work for the summer at California’s Great America – I could put it on my resume as research in queuing theory. I really should do this. It'd be fun, and I'd probably meet a lot of girls. But my insecurities won’t let me.

I called Lynn. She said that it was a somber and quiet day in the group. She wore black. She does seem a bit more distant since the hitting incident. I wish she would let me in a bit more. She is out looking for a new job as well.

There is an opening at one of our (well, now her) company’s suppliers. They are a mid-sized company in Campbell. She is on pretty good terms with a guy named Tim there. She gave me his number and I set up an interview for Wednesday. She's interviewing for the same job on Thursday. One of us should be a shoe in for the job. Either way, it looks like Tim should be able to cash in on a referral bonus (if they're offering one).

You're not fired... you're laid off

I was on the phone with Steve. Steve is a good old friend from the University of Hawaii. We used to live across the hall from each other in Johnson Hall, the dorm nearest the engineering buildings. His room had a great view of diamond head. Today Steve lives in Seattle and works at a bank.

Linda (group secretary) came by. I tried to have her wait, but she was insistent. I asked Steve to hold. “You need to see Dave, right now. He’s in the conference room.”

“OK” I said to Linda.

“Hey Steve, I think I am about to get fired.”

“What?” has asked incredulously.

“Yeah, things have been rough at the company for a while. And I pissed off my boss, big time. He just called me into a private meeting. I’m going to get the ax.”

“No way.”

“Maybe not, we’ll see. I have to go now. I’ll call you back later.”

-------------------------------------------

I stood up, and got a head rush. My adrenaline was really pumping. I knew this was the end.

I walked into the conference room. “Are you going to fire me?”

Dave laughed and said “No, you’re not being fired.” He turned to a stack of envelopes on the table next to him and pulled one out with my name on it. “This is a layoff. If you were being fired, it would be because of the lack of work that you do, your poor results, hanging out in Lynn’s office all the time, and your generally poor attitude. No, you are being laid off because we do not have the resources to continue funding your position.”

I was being fired – this was a convenient way to do it. I sat down in a chair.

Dave looked at me and smiled. He was really enjoying this. “I’ve gone over the weekly reports, and you have only closed 2 cases in the past month. That is the lowest productivity of anyone here.”

“But you gave me all the hard cases. Remember, you started assigning me all the cases that would take a long time.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I figured it out. Duh. Dave had set me up, really well. And I fell for it. Suddenly I felt so stupid. This was costing me my job.

I didn't blog it - I didn't think it was relevant, but at the beginning of the year (when the hatchet men came) Dave reorganized to group, and gave all the hard assignments to me and Eric - but he was feeding Eric a bunch of softballs to keep his counts up. I've got to admit, he was pretty clever about it.

I got 2 months of severance pay (which is really generous) and my final paycheck – less 8 days that I owed then for vacation days from my long vacation last year. I signed some documents which Dave pulled out of the envelope. I asked what would happen if I refused to sign. I was told that I would not get my severance check. I signed them, but didn’t really read them. One was stating that I would not sue the company for wrongful termination (surely that wouldn’t stand up in court.) Dave stuffed a copy of each one into an envelope that he gave me. He explained the termination procedures. I had one hour to clean out my desk, then I was to turn in my cardkey/badge, company phone card and credit card, laptop and all company papers. If I had anything at home I was to return it by this time tomorrow. Someone from HR would escort me until I was done.

I went back to my cube and called Steve back. “Yup. I was fired.” I said loud enough for others to hear.

“And I was there. What are you going to do now?” Steve asked.

“I am going to clean out my desk. Drive to the nearest bar, and have a drink. I don’t know… I guess I need to find a new job.”

“Bummer, dude.”

I grabbed a box and started shoving things into it. People started coming by the cube and asking what happened. I wasn’t in a mood to talk. I told them to ask Dave. I guess I was the first, but he had a stack of envelopes – there would be others. Lynn came by, “want to talk?” she asked.

“I’m going to the bar. You want to come?”

“Suddenly, I don’t feel all that motivated to work. I’ll join you.” Soon I had a group of about 10 that were all headed out early. Dave was going to have a tough time leading these guys now. There was genuine animosity toward the company.

Dave came by “Can I get your laptop now?” has asked. He was holding a form with asset numbers.

“Can I pull out some personal e-mails and contact information first?”

“Your access to the network has been suspended, your e-mail account is frozen.” I swear he was smiling. “I’m sorry, this is all company property now.”

I signed heavily, I handed him the laptop. What a bastard.

--------------------------------------------

After packing up my office, I drove myself to the local watering hole. It was about 2:30 and the place was deserted. I ordered a glass of wine, then canceled it and got a cheap bottle. Since I am now officially unemployed I guess I need to start watching the pennies.

At about 3:00 Lynn and Linda came in, a few minutes later another bunch of people. It was a somber place.

“So who else got it?” I asked

“No one” said Linda. “You were the only one in our group.”

I smiled cynically. “I guess I’m special.” I was sure Dave had a pile of folks to lay-off.

“There were about 200 total for the whole company.” Lynn informed me.

“Why did he pick me? I’m better than most of the folks left. I mean I’m not bragging, but they come to ask me about how to fix things. I take on some of the hardest cases.”

“That’s not the reason why you got fired” Lynn replied. “You threaten him. In so many ways.”

It was not a happy time, for me or anyone else. The party broke up early. Lynn paid for my bottle of wine. “I’ll take care of you” she said. She walked me to my truck and kissed me good bye – after the rest of the folks had left.

Don't know why I'm unhappy. I hated my boss, the job kinda sucked. I guess I'm just worried about getting a new job. Can't say I wasn't expecting it.