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Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA



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Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
If you're a science and/or silliness fan, give it a gander! See you soon!

Now This Is a ‘Two for Tuesday’!

Three sheets to the wind, and seriously considering a fourth.

Okay, here’s the story so far. I’m looking for a job. I’ve had three interviews.

The first was about a week and a half ago, and went really well. I liked the people, and they seemed to like me. The office was really cool, and the work is exciting and cutting-edge. Everybody that I’ve talked to about my interviews gets jazzed about this one.

The second interview… well, if you’re interested in the second one, read this. It’ll tell you just about everything you need to know about that experience. But really, it went okay. I got along well with everybody, and I think the work would be pretty interesting, though this job does have some ‘maintenance’ and ‘jack of all trades’ responsibilities that don’t exactly grease my pole, if you know what I mean. But onto every pants crotch a little water must spill, as they say. So I’d be willing to take the boring with the good, if it comes down to that.

The third interview was just this past Friday, and it was dismal, at least towards the end. I was asked all sorts of technical questions, and I mumbled, grumbled, fumbled, stumbled my way through it, all the while eyeballing the window behind me and wondering whether I could survive a three-story drop. Really, it wasn’t cool. The first part went okay, and the work would be pretty interesting, but they probably weren’t convinced that I could speak English by the end of it, much less do the complicated sorts of things that are on my resume.

So, today one of these places called me back for a second interview. This is very exciting, of course, as it means that I may finally have been deemed ’employable’ again, after two-plus months of looking. And it’s nice to be wanted. Ask any porn star.

But the thirty-two thousand dollar question is: can you name the company that called me? Is it number one, number two, or number three? Let’s review, just once more:

Number one: Did well enough on the phone interview to warrant a face-to-face meeting the same day. Thought I did well, and everybody digs these guys.

Number two: Have an ‘inside person’ — a friend of my wife’s — who put in a good word for me, and felt like I aced all the hard questions the interviewers threw my way.

Number three: Got the interview more or less randomly (through a friend of a friend), and pretty much bombed the part where they tested my in-depth knowledge of the technology they use. Had to admit more than once that, ‘Sorry, I just don’t know.

So, again, who do you think called me back?

That’s right, number three. Sheesh. What a country.

So, I’m going tomorrow to meet with four more people. Until I get there and have a normal interview, I’m not going to be thoroughly convinced that they’re not just calling me back to laugh at my answers from Friday. Maybe they had me on Candid Camera or something. But, assuming it’s on the up-and-up, I’ll give it the old college try. Hell, if they’re still interested, then I suppose I am, too.

(This feels a little bit like getting hammered on your first date with someone, and them still calling you the next day. I mean, sure, they said they’d call, but you just knew they were only saying that. You were pretty drunk, after all, you dog, you. You even got a little frisky there on the ride home, didn’t you? Until you started feeling sick and had to lie down in the back seat, that is. Man, why did they call you back, anyway? You’re such a hoser!

Um, anyway, I guess it could have been worse. I’d say I was figuratively drunk and incoherent, but I don’t think I proverbially puked in their lap and then asked for tongue in the goodnight kiss. Proverbial tongue, of course. I even redeemed myself a bit right at the very end. But still — I didn’t really expect to be hearing from these folks anytime soon. So this is quite the surprise.)

Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I sent a nudgy email to the number one company, fishing for some info, and got… nothing. Nada. Zilch. Crickets. Granted, I only sent the email this afternoon, so there are plenty of good reasons why I haven’t heard back yet, and oodles of opportunities for them to get back to me. Still, if they don’t, then I don’t know what the hell to think. Maybe I showed up drunk to that interview, and only thought it went well. Who knows? I’m just ridin’ the wave, kids — I’ll let you know where the fuck I am once I get there. I just hope the natives turn out to be friendly. Eep.

In other news, I’m happy to say that, surprisingly, a second interview is not the most exciting thing that’s going to happen to me tomorrow. Maybe it should be, given the lukewarm job prospects I’ve had lately, but frankly, it’s not. Normally, it would be, but tomorrow, it isn’t. That’s just the way the cookie bounces.

For you see, tomorrow is day one of the class I signed up for, namely ‘Standup Comedy 101‘. Or whatever the hell it’s called. ‘How to Be Funny in Twelve Easy Steps‘? ‘Hilarity for Dummies‘? ‘Learning from Ray Romano’s Rather Public Comedic Mistakes‘? Really, I’m not sure what the name is, just that I’m pretty psyched about it. (And you should be, too, people. If I learn anything, maybe this shit will magically get funny one day. Just don’t hold your breath, all right? I’m not makin’ any promises over here.)

So. we’ll see how that goes, too. Surely, the class will be good for some blogging hilarity, even if I’m just relaying how funny all the other people in class are.

(‘Not necessarily. And don’t call me Shirley.‘ See? Look — hilarity! I’m funnier already! Woo hoo!)

Anyway, I’ll report on both events tomorrow or the next day. Hey, maybe they’ll both be noteworthy, and I’ll have an idea backlog for the first time in forever. That’d be cool — this ‘making shit up as you go along’ crap is for the birds.

(Swallows, specifically, but I hate to mention them when I don’t need to. It gets the kids out there all giggly — ‘He said, swallows‘. You know who you are.)

So it looks like tomorrow’s going to be a full day.

(Well, if you can call any day that gets started around twelve-thirty in the afternoon ‘full’. I gots to have my beauty rest, you know.)

But it’ll certainly be interesting. To me, anyway. Maybe to you, too — who knows? You’ll most likely find out if you tune in over the next couple of days, because — since I’ve got nothing else lined up — I’m probably going to write all about it. It’s either that or the gunk that comes out of my navel, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear about that.

(Man, if only this were a photoblog. Then we’d have a gunk display. Hell, I’d have a whole ‘Gallery o’ Gunk‘. I’d post up the navel shit, and the between-toe shit — maybe even some inside-the-ear shit, if I’ve got any of that handy.

(Or, more likely, Q-tippy.)

But I wouldn’t stop there. Oh, no — that’s just the beginning of the gunk funk I’d throw down. I’d find you some shower-wall gunk, and under-the-fridge gunk, and crusty toothpaste-lid gunk. I’d snap pictures of all sorts of kitchen gunk and bathroom gunk and body cavity gunk. I could classify them by location, and color, and consistency, and what kind of face the dog makes when I make her smell each kind.

(Hey, I’m not gonna do it myself. Damn, people, I’m an artist and all, but that’s just wrong. Smelling my own gunk… please! What kind of pervert do you take me for?))

So, I think I’m off to bed to get my snoozies and rest up for tomorrow’s big fun. Hopefully, I’ll end up with lots of good stuff to tell you about from my interview and my class, and we’ll all have a good chuckle together. A larf. A tickle, but not in an aggressive, sexual way. You know, unless you’re into that sort of thing.

(Where you put your mouse when you’re reading this stuff is really no business of mine, when you get right down to it.)

And so, good night, sweet readers. I’ll be back tomorrow, just like every day, to bring you a little sunshine.

(And piss and vinegar, and maybe even some bratwurst. But not all in the same bowl. That wouldn’t be tasty.)

Until then, sleep well and wish me luck in my two big adventures tomorrow. With any luck, they’ll both kick ass. How cool would that be, eh? Not only will I learn to be funny, but I’ll land a new job, so I’ll actually have real material to write about! Christ, I won’t even know how to act.

Yeah, I’d definitely better go to bed; I’m starting to get giddy just thinking about it. I’m gonna go lie down now. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. G’night!

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