Well...there was that...

So. In a move that only half-surprised me, I was let go from my new job on Monday.
Yeah.
I was shocked at the time. I mean, I'd been working hard. Really hard. And I'd been learning the way they process everything. And I'd been willing to do anything they asked of me. I was opening the mail and not bitching about it. I was doing the processing part of my job even as they told me I'd be moving on to things more relevant to my hiring. I wasn't checking the internet except maybe twice a day (for a total of maybe 10 minutes--break time really). I was going all out. I really was.
But. There were signs. Like it took them three weeks to give me a key to the front door. So, I had to ring the bell if I went to the bathroom or out to lunch. They never set up my email (though it was supposed to be a big part of my job), and they never gave me an employee handbook--which I just studied in paralegal class and found out how important they can be. Of course, I studied at-will employment last Saturday too, so I knew they could fire me with little or no reason and everything would be perfectly legal.
So. That's what they did. They said I wasn't a fit and let me go. Simple as that.
And it's different this time. Last time, I felt responsible. And I hate failing when it's my fault. This though. This wasn't quite my fault. It's only my fault in that I should've asked better questions at the interview. I should've sussed out that they didn't really know what they were going to do with me. And I shouldn't have accepted the benefits package they offered me. That's on me, no doubt. But, that's really not the biggest part of the problem. And it makes a whole difference when you feel like you're let go for something you can't control.
And I don't want to go into the whole thing of it. I think the people I worked with were nice enough people, so, you know, whatever. I wish them luck, but I do know they'll have a tough time replacing my production for what I was desperate enough to agree to work for.
I'm just hopeful that the economy will pick up and people will start suing each other in a way that requires law firms to employ a high quality, energetic, smart paralegal. I'm finishing up my second semester now and I'm still doing really well. So, I'm closer to being seen as a paralegal, even if I could step into the job and do a good job now.
And if nothing else, I'm now open to doing an internship next semester. So. There's that. I guess what I'm saying is there's more reason for me to feel hopeful now. And Ido feel more hopeful.

General Update...

• So, a lot of things have happened since the last non-Gumshoe update. I had my 1st year anniversary being the biggest, I guess. That's right, for all of you who had "under a year" in the pool (and were sure that me getting fired was gonna help you cash in), your tickets are no longer valid.
• My mom had some sort of heart scare. I say some sort not because I didn't listen to her talk about it, but because they're not sure what it was yet. Her pacemaker had to shock her heart into rhythem 5 times a couple weeks ago, but after looking at a lot of reasons why, they can't find anything. She doesn't seem to be too worried about it. I think she's sort of resigned to it being like this from here on out.
• I've started trying to talk to my dad. I say 'trying', because I really don't know what the hell to talk to him about now. We're stuck at "okay, we're talking now". I mean, he basically missed 2 years of my life. How do you catch him up on that? And how do I catch up on his life? I think it doesn't happen. But. I would be mad at myself if I didn't try.
• And what with my mom having to have tests done on her heart, and going to her doctor alone. I find a renewed sense of anger that my dad just walked out. At this point, I know it's not his fault and it's not really mom's either, but it sucks.
• The job is going well. It's nice feeling like you've done a good deal of work (and they are definitely working me hard) and getting that feeling of accomplishment. I missed that a lot when I was without work. When Friday comes, I'm back to feeling that moment of euphoria when I walk out the door and the weekend opens its arms to me like a freind telling me we can go anywhere.
• Starting to get my final assignments for this semester of class. I'll tell you, working and going to school at night is rougher than I thought. I'm very tired after classes Monday and Wednesday nights. And the weeks where I have Saturday class (like this Saturday coming up), it takes me until Thursday to feel awake and lively.
• A couple weeks ago, Dinah's parents visited. They came in Saturday and left Wednesday morning. I had class Saturday, Monday and Tuesday, so I saw very little of them. And what I did see of them was clouded by a tired haze of having just started a job and having a busy class load at the time.
• Next semester, it's Wednesday and Thursday classes. Just two classes. I'm excited. Commercial Law and Legal Technology. Which means I'm almost through with my program. Wow. It's actually gone pretty quickly.
• Chris Carpenter went down last week setting off an angry tirade that I made against the baseball gods on my fantasy baseball webboard. You see, I had tickets to see the Cards play the cubs at Wrigley, last Sunday. Carpenter was scheduled to pitch, but after he went down, the Cards switched to Todd Wellemeyer. And the baseball gods intervened and rained that game out. Apology accepted baseball gods.
• Gumshoe stuff is going to be more regular in the near future. I'm in good shape class-wise and I've figure out how to make my schedule work. So. Hopefully, I will be more on top of it.
• Finally saw Adventureland. It's a good movie. I really liked the way it looks at that confusing time after college (early to mid 20's are a weird time) and how it didn't shy away from the stupid things we all (or at least I did). It wasn't as funny as I thought it might be, but it was much more touching and thoughtful.

Continuing adventures of the Gumshoe (#4)

Sorry it took me this long, but what with having a job and still having school, my time has become a premium. But this is important to me, so I'm hoping to make this happen much more regularly than it has up until now.
You have to be a good judge of character in this job. Take, for instance, my situation with the good detective. I would be a fool to let him handcuff me if I thought he was involved in this or if he gave me some form of the heebie geebies. For some reason, I liked this guy. Trusted him. He was doing me a big favor by letting me in there at all, but anytime you get in handcuffs it’s a risk. And I’d only known this guy for a few hours. This was either the fastest jump to handcuffs two men have consensually made or it’s a huge mistake. Still, I like to know the odds are in my favor. Of course, sometimes you have to make sure they are.
We made our way up the stairs. What this place lacked in charm on the outside, it made no attempt to make up for on the inside. The railing was rickety and falling. The lights flickered and there was a thin layer of what I have to call “goo” covering the floor. The second floor door had a welcome matt in front of the door, which almost distracted from the police tape across the doorway.
“So, I don’t think I caught your name the other night.” I said, trying to break the odd silence of walking upstairs while I was wearing handcuffs.
“I guess you wouldn’t have.” He said quietly. “Chance Greer.”
“Good to meet you.” Trying to offer him my right hand to shake, but giving him both instead. “I’m [gumshoe].” We made a nice shake of it anyway.
He pulled a flashlight from inside his coat. “No lights in there. So you stay 2 feet close to me at all times.”
As he opened the door and flicked on the light, I could tell I was going to regret this. “So, you think I’m innocent.” I said taking a step through the door as he opened it. The room (and that was all it was, one large room, a toilet behind a door and a furnace standing near the far corner) was what you’d call an “open floor plan”, but I can’t imagine that’s a concern of anyone who rents here. There was a little light coming in through the windows, which probably lit the room about as much as anyone would want. In the harsh light of the flashlight, a lot of ugly stains showed up. I don’t think they necessarily had anything to do with the crime, but it certainly didn’t help.
I slipped the handcuffs and slipped them off. Ahh, yes, putting the odds in my favor.
“Why would I think you’re innocent?” He said.
“No way I can talk you into this if you’re not having your doubts.”
“She. Edna. She’s got something against you. I haven’t figured out what it is, but she doesn’t like you and I think that’s clouding her on this.” He shined the light on the ceiling and I saw the chains hanging down, catching the light with an almost playful glint. “This is where she was found. Hanging from these chains.”
“So, she was far enough that no one could see in from the street.” I looked at the chains. They were thick. I know a lot about chains as you can see. “Yeah. There was a thing when I left the force.” He moved his light down the chains as if he expected the chains to tell us something they hadn’t before.
“Yeah. No one tipped us as to what was inside. The apartments across the street aren’t inhabited by what you would call upstanding citizens. What sort of thing?” He shined a light on the floor.
“I got caught up in a murder investigation. I was the prime suspect for awhile and I took off. Pissed Edna off. Eventually, the evidence turned a different way and I was off the hook. Still, I left the force before they could kick me off—you know for running out on an investigation—and set up as a PI. Edna didn’t appreciate me running off without a fight.” I took a breath. “No blood on the floor.”
I was looking over the scene, when I heard the rustling in the corner behind the furnace. Chance kept his flashlight steady on the area below the chains.
“A lot of rats in here,” I said hoarsely.
“Yeah. Saw a bunch in here the other night.” He slowly shined his light back up the chains. “We thought whoever it was moved the body here after she died. Can’t figure out a reason, yet.” He paused. “You got a way of screaming innocence.”
“Last time it was suffocations. Rope, I think.” And then he shined a light on the wall, and I could see the writing. “Well. That right there is why I’m a prime suspect, Chance.”
“So, you do recognize it?”
I wasn’t a big Meatloaf fan. Don’t get me wrong, he had some great stuff going on in the 70’s and his voice was that of an unchained god. And some of his new stuff is not without its charm, but he just wasn’t to me what he is to other people. But, I can recognize most of the unobscure Meatloaf lyrics. Call it a gift if you must. “Yeah. I recognize it.”
In large painted letters on the wall was, “WILL YOU HOSE ME DOWN WITH HOLYWATER IF I GET TOO HOT? HOT!”
“Meatloaf?” He said.
“Yeah.” I turned to look at him. “That’d be why she asked about my record collection.”
“That’d be it. Didn’t find any Meatloaf though.”
“No. But you did find some REO Speedwagon, which probably means something, since she was probably dressed after she was killed.”
“That how it was last time?” He kept his eyes on me, but didn’t give anything away.
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and I could still see Mindy James. I’d known her in highschool. Went to junior prom with her, but it had been a while and a lot of arguments before she was found her chained to the wall, same way Ms. Flettering had been. Strangled, dressed later and chained up. We think she stayed that way for a couple days until a mailman walking by the house smelled something and peaked in a window.
“Still a lot of people like REO Speedwagon, so it’s not like there’s a lot on you. Yet. You done?”
“Yeah.” I spoke quietly. I didn’t say much as we walked down the stairs and out the front door. I waited until we got to the car. “You read the file on that case?”
“Just this morning.” I threw the cuffs at him. “So, you’re a magician too?”
“I’m full of surprises.” I rubbed my wrists and let out a sigh. Knowing that a murder spree that claimed 6 people, ruined the lives of friends and family, and punched my career in the kidneys, had been thrown in my face again wasn’t sitting well with me.
“So. What’d you find out about that client of yours?”
“You didn’t seem to be buying that last night.””Ahh that,” he said with a waive of his hand, “you know how it is. You keep shaking someone till something falls out of ‘em. You were holding something back.”
“Yeah. So was your partner.” His mouth climbed up the side of his face, but he stayed quiet. “I got a guy calling me about my client. Hopefully any minute.” I checked my watch, 2:30.
“You know I’m gonna have to follow you wherever you head next.”
“Guess so.” I said, ducking into the Camino.
“We found that Nickelback album. For some reason it was stuck in a drawer way far away from all of the rest of the CDs.”
“Son of a bitch.” I pulled my head out of the car, rethinking my strategy. “We could carpool.”
Before Greer could say anything, my cell phone rang. I walked away from Detective Greer for a minute to take the call. I turned my back to him and the apartment. Bruce came through. Of course.
“So,” I said after I hung up the phone. “The car is registered to Aaron Masters. Here’s the address we’re given. Let’s take your car.”
“Aaron Masters. Name rings a bell.”
“That’d be because it’s the name of the man who is sitting in jail right now. For the murders of six people. Liked to strangle them and dress them up in t-shirts of classic rock bands.” I let it sit there in a minute. “Way I figure it, we’re either dealing with a copycat who is trying to pay homage to the original.”
“Or?” Chance spoke quickly.
“Or we get lucky and it’s just a guy with a somewhat common name and we put him down quick for this.”
“No way we’re that lucky.” Chance said pushing the car into gear and heading out toward the address. “So, you didn’t get a chance to interview him?”
“Wasn’t even a suspect when I was around, so I never had the pleasure. I’m thinking I’m not gonna get a chance to interview him now either.”
“What do you think? Another pizza parlor?”
“We're probably not that lucky either.”

Hodgepodge (or I'm burying this lead....)

Well. Some changes have come about.

• Today's Dinah's birthday. And next week is our 1st year anniversary. These two events being so close together again underlines some great planning on my part. I'm not a good shopper (especially for her it seems), so having these two gift-related events together doesn't play to my strengths.
• I contacted my father last month for his birthday. I didn't say much besides happy birthday and left open the possibility of us talking through our issues. He was away, so it took him a week or so to get back to me. His message was fine. He told me where he had been, what he'd been up to while away, and said he wanted to get together with Dinah and I and his woman-friend (wife?). And, me being me, it took me a while to process through everything and figure out what I wanted to say and how to say it. But, I finally did that this morning. I pretty much just said I didn't want to argue it out anymore, but I felt he'd acted inappropriately during the divorce and I don't think he's gonna change me mind now. And if we're gonna get together and figure it out, he'd just have to accept that's how I felt. I don't know how fair of me it is, but I really think that's the best I can (or am willing to) do. So. We will see, I guess.
• The gumshoe stuff is coming, but I've run into editorial decisions that I'm over thinking. I have two and a half posts just about done, so they'll come soon (hopefully at least one this week). Sorry, I know I said there'd be some this week, but I just couldn't make up my mind.
• The Great Buck Howard. Dinah and I saw a free screening of this movie on Wednesday and I was impressed. I'm really starting to like Colin Hanks. And John Malkovich is always solid. It's a good movie and worth seeing. And I liked it. I wanted to really like it, but. The overall message of the movie--(Sort of a SPOILER here) that if you're doing what you love, you'll be able to find the money to make everything work out--is one that I think would be better accepted if the economy weren't turning to shit around us. The theme, though, seems to be a constant from Hollywood. Which makes sense, I guess. I mean most people who make movies have money now and probably didn't have money when they started. And they're doing what they want to do now. So, yeah, if they can do it, I'm sure they wonder why everyone else cannot. And truthfully, I want to believe it. Everyone probably wants to believe it, right? But, yeah, this is not true. Maybe the economy is making me pessimistic (or I'm just getting old), but it just seems like this kind of theme was something I would've loved a couple years ago (five years ago for sure). But I couldn't quite get my head around it on Wednesday. Getting back to the movie, I think there was just too much going on in the world outside the theater for me to completely believe the story inside.
• I got a job. This is probably the biggest news for me. I had an interview last week and got an offer last Monday and start work tomorrow. I'm excited and nervous. It's a paralegal position, so this is good.
• I've also made the decision to not talk about my work stuff online anymore. Becoming a paralegal there are issues of client anonymity, but more than that, I just never really got the enjoyment of talking about my work crap that I thought I would. After I was outsourced, it helped to have this outlet, but mostly, I don't think it helped me think about things. If anything, I think it made me angrier. So. It's not like it's been a big staple of my blog lately anyway, but there you go.
• It's funny. I was laid off right before labor day, so holidays were always on my mind when thinking about getting a new job. Initially I wanted to be employed by Halloween, but that didn't work out. Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Christmas, New Year's, MLK, President's Day and Valentine's all went by as my new "deadlines", with nothing. I got the job just before St. Patrick's Day. It probably wasn't the best way to think about it. I mean getting a job in this climate is hard, and doing it by a deadline is impossible. You can't control who's going to call you. All you can do is put together a good resume (which I'm never confident I do) and a good cover letter (which I'm only a little more confident in than my resume) and hope someone sees what they want in there. I'm a smart guy. I'm a good worker, but I don't know how you'd see it just from a resume. And truthfully, my interviewing skills aren't always the best either. I have a tendency to over think things and become really nervous. So. Next time I'm looking for a job (and God willing that'll be years away), I've gotta remember that it's just about doing it and not always about doing it fast that's the important thing.
• MLB package this year. Which is good, because I've got a good feeling about this Cardinals team. I think Carpenter's gonna be good (and healthy, I say knocking on wood), which combined with Adam Wainwright could give us the best 1-2 in the Central. Pujols is gonna be Pujols. I think Molina's bat is on the upswing. And I'm really optomistic about Khalil Greene. And Tony will figure out the bullpen. He will. It's what he does. I'm not one for making predictions, but I think this team will be fun to watch and in the hunt. Which is all I ask for.

Spring Break...and some random thoughts.

• I'm about 4 hours away from my first spring break in almost a decade. Which is a little more daunting than you would think. See, last spring break I had, I went with a college choir on a tour of Eastern Europe. That was a completely awesome, different, and fun thing to do. This time I'm probably going to try to finish up my reading for my classes and any of the homework assignments I can. So, yes. I would say things changed for me after I turned 30.
• It's St. Patrick's Day parade day in Chicago, so there's a bunch of people trolling around downtown. Which would be fine if they weren't mostly a bunch of idiots. Hey, I'm all for parades and dressing up in all green and wearing beer hats and being really proud of being really Irish, but I don't think any of these people could tell you anything about St. Patrick, Ireland or Irish culture. Sure, they could say something about Shamrocks. Maybe they'd know Dublin was the capital of Ireland. But I think a lot of people would say something about potatos, corned beef or whiskey. And that's fine and all, but can we at least pretend we're not celebrating a stereotype? I mean, it's another excuse for college kids to drink hard and throw-up, which is good, I guess. I always like a theme to my vomiting.
• And it would be too much for someone to read some Yates, Joyce, Keats, Swift, Wilde or Heaney? You know, just a thought.
• Working on more Gumshoe, but I've been a little caught up in my studies and job search. Should be more time this week, so hopefully I'll get one (or two) up this week.

Matty Mo.

Matt Morris. Not a pitcher who's going to the Hall of Fame, but one of my favorite all-time players. I've seen Matt pitch live twice. Both times were in Wrigley Field and he didn't win either one. The first was a randomn Sunday, I can't really remember what year. It was while McGwire was with the team, to narrow it down for you.
Funny story about that game. I'd been having a tough time. I think this was after a girlfiend of mine transferred to ex-girlfriend and I was having a tough time getting over the wreckage of that relationship. I was depressed. So depressed, in fact, that I went to church*. I hadn't been to a church, outside of familial obligations at Christmas, since before highschool. So. This was kind of a thing for me. I'd thought about it for a while, but the idea of picking a church (with all the perils that congregations inflict on themselves and the rest of us) and trying to fit in was not appealing. But. I talked myself into one. It was a picturesque church that stood like a country chapel in the odd location of Addison and Broadway. (They've since redone and expanded and it doesn't look nearly as out of place or charming.)
Of course. I misread the sign and showed up for the second service which was actually done in Ugandan. (Not kidding.) The current congregation was leaving and I talked to the minister. She was a nice lady who told me the mistake I'd made and encouraged me to come back. I knew as I walked out that I wouldn't. I was the sort of upset that didn't respond well to this kind of mistake. Especially infront of a person of God.
As I was walking back towards the red line, I saw a sign for tickets. If you know Chicago, you know that Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs, is not too far from the red line. And right around the red line are all the ticket brokers. I'd never visited one before, but I walked in and bought a ticket for that night's game knowing that it was Matt Morris's turn in the rotation. Walking out to the train, I smiled a little and sat on the platform enjoying the cool May weather and laughing when I noticed the wooden owl** that sits on the building just east of the platform.
The game itself was odd. I went alone, which when you're a Cardinal fan in Wrigley field is not necessarily enjoyable. Especially when your team does not win. Not that anyone hassled me--generally they don't. But, baseball is a social game. It's meant to be seen with friends. And in a way, being there alone was not helping me.
But, still. I'd come early for batting practice and seen some McGwire bombs and watching Matty Mo throw is a good thing. He had an easy motion that looked easy and effortless to the crowd. But when you're watching at home, with all the close-ups on his sweaty face and cap, you can see the intensity. So, while the Cards weren't victorious that day, they played well and something about watching the game was comforting--even if not the perfect therepy.
The second game came amid better circumstances. A friend had gotten amazing seats--first row just one the first base side of the plate. Amazing seats. And it was a gorgeous day. Sunny. Awesome. And I'd just gotten a new Cards hat.
At the time, the Cards and Cubs were the top of the Central Division and these games really had an effect on the standings. I was into it. I was really into it. The Cards, if I remember correctly, hadn't been doing so well lately. And they'd been hurting in the bullpen. They needed a good start from Matt Morris.
Unfortunately, Matty Mo gave up four runs in the first inning. And I wasn't handling it well. I squirmed in my seat and was cursing Morris under my breath (though I think my breath was quite shallow, so it's quite probable it wasn't as noticeable as I would've hoped).
But. The Cardinals were firmly within the Pujols era. And a comeback was not outside the realm of possibility.
In fact. We were sitting near some rabid Cubs' fans. Rabid. Since we were right near the visitor's batting circle, they had the opportunity to taunt the Cards before they got to bat. Which was fine when they did it to Tony Womack and he dribbled a ball to the infield. But. (And this is my favorite baseball memory.) You don't do that to Albert Pujols. I remember them yelling something at him and Albert turned, looked at them, made note of them and laughed. It was an easy laugh. Nothing to worry about. No care in the world.
And then the greatest thing happened. Albert stepped to the plate and I watched him unleash, in a gracefull torrent, the most fluid display of strength I've witnessed from that distance. And the ball. It suddenly hung in the sky, flying high above the buildings and bleachers across the street. There was no doubt. And I was on my feet and happy. Jubilant.
And as Albert crossed the plate, he looked at the man who'd taunted him, put a finger over his lips and let them know.
I mean, if someone told me this story, I wouldn't believe it. But I was right there. Amazing.
It was a good game. And before I knew it, I was looking up at the 8th inning and noticing Matt was still out there. He'd given up nothing since the first and he'd gutted out a good start. He'd given the team a chance to win, but more importantly (I think anyway), he'd given the bullpen (except one guy who came in for the 8th and 9th) a night off. He'd done his job and given the team exactly what he needed.
So many times in sports we laud the people who win or who do the spectacular. Like I did with Pujols. It's easy to do. And if you asked pretty much any fan, they'd tell you they go to sporting events to see amazing things happen. And that's great, and I love that part of sports. But what is at least as important is noticing the people who tough it out. The people who do their jobs well, even if things don't go as planned. And that was Matt Morris. That day, he got behind and battled to stay on the mound and do his job.
I doubt that anything from his 7+ IP made the highlights, aside from the first inning. But it was a beautiful thing to be able to watch it happen. And it's too bad that kind of effort goes unnoticed so often in sports. Because that kind of effort is as spectacular as the spectacular. It is harder to describe, I'll admit.
But, when they pulled Morris, I was more than happy to stand and applaud. Matt was often doing amazing things on the mound, but watching that game was the one that made me really a fan of his.



*Note. It's not that I'm not a religious person, I'm just not an organized religious person.
**Note. It's still there. Presumably to scare pigeons away? Either way, I find it amusing.

Winner...

So, I mentioned in the Fargo post that I'd won an award from the University I attend, but they hadn't gotten around to announcing it formally on their website...but...now they have. It's at the very bottom of this page.
I post it for no other reason than to pump my ego a bit.