Tuesday, April 17, 2012

After about a month and a half in, I feel really lucky with my new job online. I'm discovering a previously unknown thirst for power and am thrilled every time my supervisors put me in charge of bossing someone else around. Most of my communication is with a woman named Rosemarie, who lives in Canada, but I also talk regularly with another supervisor from Canada, and a variety of teachers who at any given time need my discipline.


I teach when I'm needed, but I also end up doing lots of other projects for the company. Yesterday I wrote an outline and handout for a marketing presentation taking place in Dubai this coming week, along with brainstorming 30 English slogans. As my supervisor offered as an example when explaining the project: "You know, like 'Learn English blah blah blah.'" Yeah boss, no problem. And then I frantically start googling ideas on how not to sound like a douche bag. Mostly ineffective.

The other day I had to sub for a class and when I turned on the video, a student from another class I'd taught greeted me. "Hello teacher, are you ready to be the fifth woman?" Haha, I just laughed and privately thought whatdahellisdis until later realizing that I believe he currently has four wives. Four percent, incidentally, of his camel count.

That was also the class where we're chatting away and I see in the background of my camera (visible to all), a sleepy man body shuffling in the room behind me, as it made its way to the couch in nothing but a pair of boxers. I tried really really hard to keep my composure, especially after noticing the stricken looks on the face of my students, but mostly just succeeded in letting out intermittent snorts as I tried oh so hard not to laugh. It was one of those "we'll try to act as if this never happened" moments. I tried it at least, but I'm somewhat apprehensive of what they chose for their topic of conversation during mid-class tea break. Happens.

Now I'm all alone (with Manchas) in my little old apartment because both the boys are off on separate trips to Mexico City for work. This is going to be the weekend of reckoning for Mono. He's been studying an ungodly amount of hours for the last little while for this exam, which only passes about five people in the country. My contribution to exam preparation was having him take my mouse apart when it stopped working a few days ago. Electronics and stuff.

Aside from all these things (nothing) which have kept me busy recently, I also joined a gym. It's been nice to get my butt moving but my knees already hurt so running's out and I get irrationally pissed at the dog when I take her for walks and she pulls. Manchas has turned into a chubster, even the vet says so. And do you know whyyy? I give the girl treats, sure, but someone who doesn't like to admit to affection for the dear pup has been feeding her mini-versions of his own meals, in addition to the regular kibble. A taco here, a sandwich there, something else that's vaguely meaty looking. I don't know. One time I came into the kitchen and Manchas was munching away happily with her paunch hanging out while Mono swiftly hid a bag of mini garlic crisps behind his back. Do you believe this? Manchas still has the spindly legs of her street-rat past, but now it's topped by a body resembling an over-fed seal. On TOP of all this, she's got a FuNgUs. Ewww... I had to leave her alone at the vet for two hours while they gave her a special bath and it was the longest two hours of my incredible four month relationship with the love of my doggie-hearted soul (aka Get A Life).

At the airport a couple weeks back the security man pulled me aside to check my bag for suspicious items. Unzip and the first thing he pulls out is an 8-inch bone wrapped in cellophane. I've actually discovered this is a great idea, though: packing a dog bone and a candle (had one of those too in a paper lunch bag a la boozehound style) is an excellent way to indicate your love of mood lighting and soft furry creatures. And if you ask me those are both respectable qualities not normally associated with airplane hijackers. Point being I got through that inspection right quick.

It ended up being the smallest flight I'd evvvver been on. The plane was normal domestic size but how many passengers???? FIVE. The crew was super nice (super nice? really? that's the phrase you want to go with Megan?) to us and even offered us the first-class French Toast breakfast even though the flight didn't even include a meal. I skipped it and instead put my sunglasses on and closed my eyes in an attempt at conveying anti-social sleepiness, but now I kind of regret it since let's be real, I ain't never gonna be no first-class cake eater again.

Anyway that's all for now.

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