Whew, this week has been a whirlwind of activity. Monday I left Lubbock and flew up to Schenectady for my first week in my new role; that trip in and of itself was an all-day affair. Tuesday I officially started my new job, I managed to get onto the GE campus and into the office… it’s amazing where a winning smile and a wink can get you in to. I’m kidding of course; my smile and a wink were accompanied by a GE badge I had secreted away from my days as a GE intern in Norcross. As it turns out, it would seem I am one of the few early risers in the GE corporate office. I was in at 0745 and all the lights were still off and no one from my team was in the office yet. I hit the ground running and haven’t looked back since. It has been a long time since I simply haven’t had enough hours in the work day to get everything done that needed doing. It is kind of refreshing. Of course it doesn’t help that all of my afternoons are cut short by my house hunting excursions, but what else could I do? Live in a camper for six months, who wants that?
When I was checking in to my hotel late Monday evening I had a minor malfunction of that filter between your brain and your mouth that keeps you from saying really stupid or inappropriate things, specifically, mine failed altogether. As I was checking in I asked the desk clerk if they had a suite style room available since I was going to be there for two weeks. He told me that they had no other rooms available because more than 300 homicide cops from all over the state of New York were staying there for a convention. Without missing a beat I said, “I guess I’ll need to wait until next week to go after my target.” That wouldn’t have been quite so bad if I hadn’t happened to catch a glimpse of the guy behind me wearing a CSI lanyard. I imagine that is probably the glare he gives his suspects in the interrogation room.
The hotel I am staying at is nice and has provided an unending source of amusement for me. There is a revolving door going in the main entrance that is automatic. When you are about two feet out from the door it begins to rotate. The problem is the timing, it spins fast enough that in order to make the first gap in in the door you really have to pick up the pace and even then it is close. At the same time the door is slow enough that to hit the second gap you have to come to a complete stop and wait for a second or two. Of course, my personality is such that it dictates that I make it into the first gap. This whole week I’ve gone in and out of the door thinking how comical it was and knowing that it was only a matter of time until I didn’t quite make the gap… Well, this morning that finally happened, and it happened in such spectacular fashion that I managed to shoot the gap while leaving my backpack behind to get wedged in the door. At that point everything came to a screeching halt until I managed to free my backpack and someone walked in front of the sensor causing the door rotation to start again.
No pictures this week, but doing a Google search for people getting stuck in revolving doors provided an amusing distraction. Turns out there is a Facebook page dedicated to making people get stuck in revolving doors.
Thursday when I got back to the hotel after spending the afternoon looking for houses I was greeted with a huge banner greeting John Somethingoranother, the Supreme Exalted Poobah… or something like that, maybe it was the Grand Exalted Ruler. Anyway, it turns the New York Elks Cult Club was having a convention at my hotel. Now, I don’t have anything against the Elks Club, but I can’t help but think that a man with the title “Grand Exalted Ruler” couldn’t help but let it go to his head just a little. I have a feeling that a man like this probably has a gold plated toilet.
It would appear that the town of Lafayette, GA (pronounced La – FAY – it) now has some competition for the “Most mispronounced town name (as spoken by the locals) of obviously French origin.” Joining the ranks is now the proud town of Watervliet, NY (pronounced Water – VLEET). Although not eligible because of its lack of French origin, the town of Colonie, NY (pronounced colo – NEE where the nee is stressed as a separate word) is worth special mention.
They say that acceptance is the first step on the road to recovery. My name is Derrik Filippo and I have a problem. My breakfast this morning consisted of Sweet Tarts, gummy worms, and a Dr. Pepper. Later on when I felt guilty about it I had a couple of bowls of Frosted Mini Wheats.
And with that last little tidbit I will leave you for the week as I plan for the rest of my day to involve looking at more houses and watching college football.