November 2003 Archives

A few weeks ago I finally started getting interviews for jobs. Things started to look up.

The first job I interviewed for was my dream job: Management Consultant. It was 100% travel, leaving on Sunday night and returning Friday evening. I would engage in companies all across the country, assessing their situations and improving it, even though that might involve the recommendation of firing people (think Office Space). It started at $46 800 a year plus per diem expenses, plus this plus that. I spent 90 minutes on the bus getting to Dorval. I interviewed with an HR drone for about 15 minutes, who immediately sent me to meet with the Director (such an honour) to whom I spoke for about 15 minutes. Apparently they were making their final recommendations that day, so I had to be prepared to be back in Dorval at a moment's notice to perform in the next stage of the evaluation. I didn't get that call, and I spent $42 in cabs that day. I was pretty disappointed for a few days.

Then I had an interview for Marcus Evans. I killed in that interview. The job was mine. I was invited back for a second interview the next morning. The job was for inside sales not at all what I wanted, though nothing I couldn't handle. If you have seen Boiler Room, you might get an idea about what the environment was like in this place. I wouldn't last two weeks there. I couldn't stand the interviewer, so I politely declined the next interview.

That same day I had a phone interview at a tech company to do business development. I must say that I nailed that one too, as I was asked to go in for an interview that Friday. But I had to prepare a 15-minute PowerPoint presentation to demonstrate my communication abilities. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Ridiculous. But I complied, because the company looked so leading edge. I was interviewed by two women, and it was one of the better interviews that I have had. The questions were relevant, and they seemed genuinely interested in me as a person. They made me want to join the team.

The last thing they needed from me was references. I ended up giving Sylvie, my old boss, as one of them. The following Wednesday he emailed me as I was e-talking to V and Elizabeth. He said that it seemed to go well, and that I should be prepared to start ASAP. About two minutes later the VP of Client Development called me back to give me an offer. I started this past Monday. Yes, I am back in the real world, and I think I like it so far, if only for the change of pace and the money, which is considerably more than what I got at my last job. And I don't have to wear a tie, either.

Well, time to go grab a beer. More later.

I spoke to the SAAQ just now.

Tomorrow I was supposed to have an appointment to get my license changed from Ontario to Quebec. Just to be sure, I called them to check if I had the documentation they need to allow me to get a license. You may recall that it takes proof of residency in Quebec, proof of residency in Ontario and a passport to have your license transferred, and that I had everything but the proof in Ontario. Click the link as to why that was. Since then I have obtained new docs to hopefully prove that I was a resident in Ontario during the time I held a license there (which is what they told me, more on this later), namely tax records from 1995.

When I called the man asked me when I first got my license. That was 1991, I was a kid living at home with no bills to pay, nothing. My docs were no good because they were from 1995. He said that I had to prove that I was a resident of Ontario during the time that I held a driver's license from there. I took this to mean any time from 1991-2001, and from March 2003 to now. (My license expired in 2001 and I didn't renew it till 2003.) For some reason, he started saying that I had to have proof from 1991 that I was a resident of Ontario (never mind the fact that non-residents can't get licenses*).

So I start asking why this is the case, even though I was told by more than one person on more than one occasion that I needed proof from during the time that I held a driver's license from there, and nothing more specific than that. He goes away and asks me if I still have a valid license from there. I do. I had to renew it this year in order to have a license at all. he then said that I needed proof from the previous six months. No one ever mentioned the six months thing. And certainly no one mentioned that it had to be in 2002 or 203. In fact, they specifically said that I needed proof during the time that I held a driver's license from there.

Of course, no such information exists. I wasn't a resident of Ontario back then, and I haven't been for years.

Now you could say that it should have been a priority for me to get a Quebec driver's license 5-6 years ago when I became a resident of Quebec. Maybe you are right, but I didn't see the added value. All I needed it for was as a second piece of photo ID. It has served me well during all that time. The only time I have ever wanted to drive was when I was visiting my parents in Ontario. So getting a Quebec driver's license wasn't a big deal.

To be honest, it still isn't a huge deal. I still don't drive in Montreal, although I was thinking of doing so in the next couple of years (after I have paid off some debts) and maybe buying a car. You know, like adults do. I could drive Rose to work or something, and we could take rides out to the country. I could rent a car and do that now, but I would be taking a huge chance. If I get stopped, then the car is impounded for 30 days and I would have to pay for the rental during that time. That's $3000. I might as well buy a cheap used car. But then I face the same problem and...whatever.

I won't start all over again, like I'm 16. I won't do it. I will take my chances. This isn't about simple pride or spite. It is about personal dignity, and I feel as though I would be lowering myself by complying now, especially when I tried my damnedest to comply eighteen months ago, but they couldn't hear me.

* I called back and asked why the existence of a valid Ontario driver's license doesn't count as proof of residency in Ontario, since you have to be a resident to get one. Not only did no one know the answer, but no one knew anyone who did, nor did they know of any way I could contact someone who might know the answer, like someone in the Ministry of Transportation, or even the Minister of Transportation. Figures.

UPDATE: I saw a naked pregnant woman the other night.

Just thought I'd share that.

I know I haven't updated in a while. I was all set to do it yesterday and then someone sent me a link, I clicked and lost my entry. So fuck that.

I suppose much has happened since I last updated, not the least of which involved me turning 29 last Saturday the 8th. Normally, my birthday is a big deal, to me and others, because I make it a big deal. But not this year. You know why? Because I wasn't working, and everyday day seems similar to the weekend. No day is special anymore. There's no one at work to brag to and say "IT'S MY BIRTHDAAAAY! HAIL MEEEEE!" It's just not the same when you don't have to get up in the mornings. So this year I didn't really care that much, and it's too bad.

I did tell the staff at Brutopia that it was my birthday, and they seemed to care. By the way, I have LESBIAN friends! Turns out that the cook at Brutopia is practically married to my doppelganger. (Incidentally, that story is now known by all of the staff and at least half of the regulars.) I ended up going there the night before with these two. I got quite entirely fucked up on beer, Jagermeister and something I cooked up at home that I called a Clusterfuck (three parts white rum, one part gin, one part Triple Sec, a splash of vermouth, a splash of Grenadine, four-five parts of lemon juice and lots of Code Red: Mountain Dew. Tasty!). Liz got so fucked up that she hugged me.

Yeah, I know.

It was so much fun that we did it again the next night, but I won't go into any details there.

The following night, Rose was finally available to see me. She arrived at my house in all her PVC glory with presents and a cake! I was King, if only for a few hours.

So that was the birthday saga, coming up next, the job search saga.