kerewin's whine cellar

New Job, New Asskicking

Just when I knew everything about the wines I was selling and let's be truthful, maybe a little bored of them, I went and got a new job. Exciting and interesting wines and...oops! I know very little about them, nor very much about the regions they come from. Don't get me wrong, I am not upset selling wines from Europe, South Africa, New Zealand, Australia, and Portugal, I am just a tad bit behind the eight ball (god that saying is stupid, I mean who the hell wants to be in FRONT of the eight ball?).

I prefer to be the person who knows the most, which means I have a lot of reading and tasting to do in the near future. Added to the fact that I am working later and even this weekend, it means I have very little spare time, except for sleeping. Oh yeah, not doing too much of that either. Excitement is apparently very bad for sleep habits.

Major bonus, I was on a quarter of a tank on Monday, and even though I have done all the driving around I haven't even gotten to the refill stage yet. Hooray for working downtown!

Apparently The Trick Is To Not Be Professional

I thought being released from my two weeks notice was a nice way to have a couple extra days off before starting my new job. It seems from the conversations I had with one person at Much Too Large Corporation today that my best course of action would have been to wait until almost midnight of April 30 and THEN leave without notice. Since I didn't do that, since I didn't screw them blind, they might see fit to screw me blind. They might, but who is to be sure since no one official has actually talked to me about my final pay. Or my 56 hours of vacation pay that is owed to me. Or commission or bonus.

As a warning to all people who might be in my situation in the future: In sales, two weeks notice is for suckers.

And Nothing But The Truth

So I am unemployed.

Which isn't nearly as dire as it sounds. Current policy at the old company is that is anyone gives notice to move to a competitor, they are released immediately. Last week I was given an offer at a smaller company to be a big fish in a tiny pond, rather than a teeny, tiny, baby fish in an ocean. It was tempting so I gave my notice yesterday. Professional to the point.

This afternoon I got a call asking me to meet up and turn in my computer, badge, and passkey. New company doesn't mind if I start early, so next Monday is ok, but in the meantime I have a couple of days off. I think I shall stay up extra late tonight, sleep in, wake up late, and then call all my ex-coworkers to rub it in.

One of the fabulous changes in the new job, I will never again have to sell cheap, oaky chardonnay. Amen.

Dis Gus Ting

Indescribable

link "borrowed" from Subtle Glow

Ballsy

I might have to start reading this comic on a regular basis.

Waiting In Line

I got a flat tire yesterday. I left a lunch meeting and was on my way to the warehouse to pick up some wine for a delivery. As I drove away I heard an odd sound, kinda like wind going through a loose hubcap. A block later I could still hear the noise so I pulled over and found the flat.

Because I am useless I had to call the Hub to come change it (and this time I payed attention, so if it happens in the future, I can probably do it myself). While I was waiting for him to get there, I also called my boss. It was getting late in the afternoon and the bar really needed their product in a timely manner. Luckily he was AT the warehouse. "Can you make this delivery for me?" I asked.

"How much wine is it? I need to know if it will fit in my car," he replied.

Pausing as I look into my order book and counting, "Hmm, 6, 6, and umm looks like about 3 and a half cases and a case of beer."

"Okay I'll be right there." Click.

Huh? Right here? That makes no sense. Shrug.

Thirty minutes or so later, the Hub is there messing with the tire, Boss pulls up. I ask, "Do you have my wine?"

"Don't you have it?"

"No, it's at the warehouse."

Oops, I never clarified that it was still at the warehouse and by the way I was counting the wine for him, he thought I had it in my car and was looking at it. So much for helping me. Still, the spare is a real tire and I got going after it was changed and made the delivery. However, that put me way late for getting my tire fixed. It was 4:30 when I finally arrived at the Les Schwab near my house and they told me the wait to get my car back would be well after 6 pm. Luckily they just let me leave my car there overnight for pickup in the morning. (Sheesh, this is a lot of background info for a very weak payoff.)

So at 9 am I haul my ass down to good old "Free Beef" and it is already sort of zooish. I stand in line behind an odd woman and her dog that she tells me confidentially, "is in public training." Whatever that means. Although I was second in line these 2 guys helping people seem to be a little slow. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Blah. I was cranky and hungry. Crazy lady gets her turn and her loose tire issue takes one of the two men away from the counter. Good times. Meanwhile a guy about my dad's age walks up to the line and sorta stands behind the guy who is at the counter. Does he think there are two lines, I ask myself. Odd. Why would all the people behind me be in JUST ONE LINE?

Guy at counter leaves, Interloper Man starts to step up to the counter. "Excuse me," I say firmly, "I was next in line."

"But you're just getting new tires, right?"

"No, I am picking up my car," I reply acidly.

At that point the counter guy called me over and I got my car (yay! they just fixed the tire for free!) and I left. Lucky for Interloper. Still, I kept turning it over and over in my head later, what the hell does someone who is "just buying new tires" look like? Aside from that, I WAS NEXT IN LINE. Is it a difficult concept? I almost wish I was buying a new, time consuming, set of tires.

Secrets and the Keeping of Them

There are dynamic and interesting things happening in my life and I can't BLOODY WELL TALK ABOUT THEM and it is driving me nuts. I think humans desire to confess. So as I go about my business and run into friends and I can't tell them, it seriously makes me sorta psychotic. My mouth is busy saying one thing and my mind is flashing this big "TELL TELL TELL" sign.

This I'd Like To See

"Utah's Legislature should pass the natural family resolution and Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. should tie the state economy to Kanab by honoring the non-binding resolution. It's one thing for distant cowards to try to bully tiny Kanab. It's another thing to take on the state of Utah."

Do you suppose that the state doesn't pass the Natural Family Resolution precisely because people WOULD take on the state of Utah?

link via Blurbomat, who has a much more reasoned discussion of this issue.

I'm So Glad It's April

March just kicked my ass. We had plans or company from out of town every single weekend. In the middle of those weekends I kept myself entertained by getting sick, then when I was better I went and hurt my back. March is apparently seeping into April because I seem to be getting sick again, this time a nasty cough that I can feel in my lungs. Of course, we have company for dinner tonight. Good times.

For your health I have a little PSA*. When I have leftover wine from work I started putting it in these glass jugs I bought. Over time and with a little help it turns into wine vinegar. The two vats of red I had going were definitely ready this weekend, so I filtered one and heated it up a little to kill any leftover bacteria/yeast/whateveryouwanttocallit. White wine takes a heckuva long time to turn and only one of the two white wine jugs had. Since it is still cold in these here parts I decided to help the slower one along by putting some of the "mother" from the one that was working into the one that wasn't.

One of the jugs was on the bottom of the shelf we keep in the kitchen that has all my cookbooks on it. If I haven't told you before, I am sort of a cookbook addict, so there are a lot of them. And they are heavy, cookbooks. I realized a couple of weeks ago that it was time to do something about the shelf because the top level was so heavy it pushed down the tabs that were holding it up and it fell onto the second shelf. Well apparently the second shelf also fell from the weight of two levels of books and the jug was one of the things holding up two layers of books. Something had to be done so I started taking books off of the middle shelf. You know, because that was the shelf that was preventing me from taking the wine jug out. I figured I would deal with the top layer after I dealt with the wine/vinegar. Here's the stupidity part. I was almost done clearing the middle shelf and lo and behold all the books that were holding up the top shelf were gone and the top shelf had the heaviest books (brilliant strategy, by the way) and it went the way of gravity and fell even farther. Onto my hand. It hurt so bad that I yelled out, "Motherfucker!!!!!!!!!!!" Husband came running and it hurt so bad that I couldn't even talk to tell him what happened. Now I have a couple of purple and swollen digits. I think I am lucky they didn't break.

So, the moral of the story? Oh gosh, there are just so many. Put your heaviest cookbooks on the bottom shelf? Even if they are the ones you use the most. Don't be fucking stupid? That's definitely how I felt. But really, the real lesson is: Gravity Works.

Perhaps in the most universal sense March is still around kicking my ass. Or this is some meanass April Fools joke (of course the almost-finger-breaking happened on Saturday)?. Either way, could it PLEASE be April now?

Apparently Melissa Summers was speaking to my (literally) bruised muse when she had an interview recently with Leah Peah. "All blogs have value if they have 4 readers or 4,000. You just have to keep writing what you love and the people who are supposed to be reading it and the people who are important to you will find it."

*PSA link found via Dan.