Let's talk about integrated systems
Registering for classes yesterday was a painful reminder of how very much my life will be changing. First off, my soft office feet blistered about 12 seconds into the afternoon and I had to focus on chewing my gum and remaining expressionless. Secondly, I discovered that there's a secret language using real words in totally opposite ways. Those people are fucking insane. There were a lot of, "ok, i know what I mean by the word list, what does it mean here? moments. I'll be the first to admit that being a corporate drone has heightened my sensitivity for process failures and inefficiencies, but the fine folk at SCCC could use some serious training. Haven't they learned the lessons from Hell's Kitchen? We have to work together people, or we'll never get through a full night of service.
A few weeks ago I got a welcome packet with a parking pass and a registration slip. I was instructed to come for my S.T.A.R.S ("Sucking Time and Raising Stress") training which consisted of a presentation that was totally useless to me, and clearly designed for people pursuing an AA/AS. But I wanted to do the right things, the things I never fucking did the first time around, which might have something do with the fact that I'm now 30 and going to trade school. So I sat dutifully through the bad powerpoint (flying graphics are *not* interesting!) and waited for a meeting with the adviser. We spent about 9 seconds together before she asked me if Culinary had "said I was ok." I said I thought so, (what does 'ok' mean to you?) and she sighed and pointed me upstairs. Clearly, they've seen this kind of thing before. Not that they're about to fix it and spoil all the fun. So with the dread of rewatching a played out scene I entered Culinary to find that, of course, they had no record of me. At all. Despite numerous status-update phone calls, despite the fact that I'd sent transcripts, and taken a placement test, and then called to make sure "I was ok." Most confusing to me is that they have no record of me despite my having received a notification to register.
"Everyone gets that," the administrator tells me. The fact that this is not technically true, that I've never gotten a registration slip before, probably because I've never been a student there before is somewhat lost on her. "Have you quit your job?" This is not going well. The waiting list is 7 quarters long. I have visions of spending 2 years working retail. Fortunately, email, 7 years of being a bitch at work and an unusual name saved the day. Someone who worked in the office came over and remembered our email conversation. It seems that after I took my placement test I was supposed to hand carry the results upstairs. Despite the fact that I asked the person who gave me my results if I needed to do anything and was told no. Despite the fact that those results were in my profile on their computer system, 6 inches away. They looked at me as though I'd suggested eating some vomit when I asked if they could access my results from their computer. I'm only confident that I'm really "ok" (my definition) because I paid them. Nightmare. And classes are going to start at 7am. I must be crazy, because I'm still totally excited.
On another topic, I've been paying a lot of attention lately to the bunny. Despite the fact that I'm bunny to many, I have to give it up for this guy. I don't remember how I found his blog but I'm impressed with his honesty. He's a great writer with kind of a charming blend of self-effacment and paranoia. What's most interesting to me is how his style has changed since he's gotten more hits. It's obvious in some ways that he both likes and resents the pressure to write and to be funny. The bunny, like legions of men I've met has one fundamental problem - he dates the wrong women. If you read the his site, you'll see what an understatement that is, but I don't mean it the way he does. The women he dates are crazy and in talking about them, he worries that he may appear misogynistic. Of course, that's because he dates women who get jealous of the Sunmaid raisin girl...logic is not a primary attribute for these ladies. Anyway - I love the site, his stories and lists are always funny but the most compelling reason to read is that this guy is a brutally honest self-analyst. check it out.
A few weeks ago I got a welcome packet with a parking pass and a registration slip. I was instructed to come for my S.T.A.R.S ("Sucking Time and Raising Stress") training which consisted of a presentation that was totally useless to me, and clearly designed for people pursuing an AA/AS. But I wanted to do the right things, the things I never fucking did the first time around, which might have something do with the fact that I'm now 30 and going to trade school. So I sat dutifully through the bad powerpoint (flying graphics are *not* interesting!) and waited for a meeting with the adviser. We spent about 9 seconds together before she asked me if Culinary had "said I was ok." I said I thought so, (what does 'ok' mean to you?) and she sighed and pointed me upstairs. Clearly, they've seen this kind of thing before. Not that they're about to fix it and spoil all the fun. So with the dread of rewatching a played out scene I entered Culinary to find that, of course, they had no record of me. At all. Despite numerous status-update phone calls, despite the fact that I'd sent transcripts, and taken a placement test, and then called to make sure "I was ok." Most confusing to me is that they have no record of me despite my having received a notification to register.
"Everyone gets that," the administrator tells me. The fact that this is not technically true, that I've never gotten a registration slip before, probably because I've never been a student there before is somewhat lost on her. "Have you quit your job?" This is not going well. The waiting list is 7 quarters long. I have visions of spending 2 years working retail. Fortunately, email, 7 years of being a bitch at work and an unusual name saved the day. Someone who worked in the office came over and remembered our email conversation. It seems that after I took my placement test I was supposed to hand carry the results upstairs. Despite the fact that I asked the person who gave me my results if I needed to do anything and was told no. Despite the fact that those results were in my profile on their computer system, 6 inches away. They looked at me as though I'd suggested eating some vomit when I asked if they could access my results from their computer. I'm only confident that I'm really "ok" (my definition) because I paid them. Nightmare. And classes are going to start at 7am. I must be crazy, because I'm still totally excited.
On another topic, I've been paying a lot of attention lately to the bunny. Despite the fact that I'm bunny to many, I have to give it up for this guy. I don't remember how I found his blog but I'm impressed with his honesty. He's a great writer with kind of a charming blend of self-effacment and paranoia. What's most interesting to me is how his style has changed since he's gotten more hits. It's obvious in some ways that he both likes and resents the pressure to write and to be funny. The bunny, like legions of men I've met has one fundamental problem - he dates the wrong women. If you read the his site, you'll see what an understatement that is, but I don't mean it the way he does. The women he dates are crazy and in talking about them, he worries that he may appear misogynistic. Of course, that's because he dates women who get jealous of the Sunmaid raisin girl...logic is not a primary attribute for these ladies. Anyway - I love the site, his stories and lists are always funny but the most compelling reason to read is that this guy is a brutally honest self-analyst. check it out.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home