Boredom

According to the all-knowing Wikipedia, boredom is an emotional state experienced during periods of lack of activities or when an individual is uninterested in the activities surrounding them.

That being said if you ever have a school project, or are interviewing for a newspaper or website and need someone very knowledgeable and experienced in the act of boredom I am here. Call for details.

Now, I’m sure you’ve seen me mention this briefly, but thought I’d offer you the chance to read the full explanation.

I got to work not too long ago and as every day of work, except for that day when I came in when I wasn’t scheduled, I logged onto my computer, opened all my programs, got ready for calls, and opened my browser to post a “Good morning” and greetings to my friends on The Clayboard. That’s a Clay Aiken message board in case you didn’t guess. But what do I find when I get to the website? An error stating that it’s in the category of “social networking” thus the site has been blocked by Chase. Followed by my [silent] outburst of “Are you kidding me?!?”

Now, there are many Clay Aiken message boards. The Official fanclub board, The Clackhouse, Clayversity, and the Clayboard are the main ones that I know of. I only spend time and post on the Clayboard. That’s where I first signed up and I have met several wonderful ladies and friends from all over the world. And wouldn’t you know it? I can still get on all of the other boards EXCEPT the Clayboard. Are you KIDDING me?!?

And now you’re wondering what the heck is wrong with this girl. This is not the end of the world. She can’t access one freakin website omg it’s going to be ok Melanie I promise. Yeah, no. You don’t understand. That is what was keeping my sanity here. I take call after call over and over again. Despite the fact that I was spending a fourth, maybe a third of my time in after-call-work surfing the board I still have lower talk times then most of my team members. That’s just sad I say.

And now you think, no wonder they blocked the site! Melanie was wasting a third of her talk time surfing a message board. Not just a message board, but a CLAY AIKEN message board! This girl should just be fired for the Clay Aiken reference in that sentence. Although for those who think that, they obviously haven’t seen Clay in Spamalot or listened to the new album. And although the flat iron hairstyle he was sporting on The View that one day might be slightly alarming get over it and move on.

Anyhoo.

It was keeping my sanity y’all I’m not kidding. I had friends to keep in touch with. The breaking Clay Aiken news to read. The excitement of all of the activity with the album coming out. And the fact that I could read all this at work and not spend my time at night was a plus. And now? Now I’m stuck reading news articles and looking up the word boredom on wikipedia. For the love of give me my site back before I loose my mind!

Maybe I’ll bring in a cross-stiching kit and make some Christmas presents that the recipients never know what to do with.

Point being? I’m bored.

The house that stood on 14th.

Actually the house is still there, but I liked that title better. I saw that house the other night and I thought I would take the opportunity to pay a little homage in honor. Technically the house is completely not worthy of such an honor, but just go with it.

I lived in a half house my junior year of college. And when I say junior year I mean my third year for those curious minds. It was my first year out of a dorm and that in and of itself was nice. It was a good house. Most of the time. Part of the time. It was a roof over our heads.

Our landlord decided to be kind and replace the kitchen tiles. That went well. On our move in day he was on his hands and knees gluing them down. This was his first time tiling, I’m assuming, because I still have that sock with a cheery sunshine with glue all over the bottom. It was a nice thought of him to retile but I don’t think I ever walked around that floor in my bare feet my entire stay.

Not too long after we moved in, the house was broken into. We were home tucked snuggly in bed with no idea that some hungry stranger was meandering downstairs. Why hungry you ask? Well, upon waking up we found our kitchen window broken and a piece of cheese on the floor. The punk stole my cheese! As well as my bread and my roommates ham. Thankfully we were not completely moved in so there was nothing of great value on the bottom floor except for my bike, which was also gone. I miss my cheese.

There was a piece of fruit that flew through our kitchen window one evening. At least it appeared to be a fruit although the four roommates and landlord who was over replacing the window for a second time couldn’t figure out the exact type.

Winter came. We didn’t have any heat. I don’t remember why it took so long for it to get fixed but there was an extensive amount of swiss hot chocolate packets overflowing the trashcan. Sugar free of course. That was the only time I wished that I was one of the two ladies living up in the attic.

Summer came and guess what that meant. Killing the front yard grass! Don’t worry, I got permission. I think. Anyway, I spent the thirty or so bucks for a blow up pool. And when I say blow up pool I don’t mean one of those pools to sit in a lawn chair and cool down your feet. I mean eight foot we had no air pump to assist blow up using my saxophone breathe from the diaphragm skills to the point of passing out, taking a break and repeating over and over again. Then spend even longer with a hose connected to the kitchen faucet. Finally followed by blowing up my florescent yellow raft and laying out catching the brilliant rays of sunlight making sure to flip over every half hour or so to nearly suffocate myself in said raft so I could get an even tan. It was beautiful.

The best part of the house, and when I say best I mean could it seriously get any worse, was the bathroom. Or was it the kitchen. Oh, yeah, it was the part of the bathroom floor landing in the kitchen. That was a good one. And I got to be the lucky one to be there when it happened. A little to close for comfort I say but it was amusing.

Overall it was a good year. I lived with some great girls in a house worth speaking of.

In other news, I’ve started to post some of these blogs on facebook. If people ever start to defriend me at least we know why.

Some of you may wonder how I became such a big fan of Clay Aiken. Here is my story.

In 2005 I went to my first Clay Aiken concert. I didn't know who he was, just that he lost American Idol and had that Invisible song on the radio.

Back in 2005 I was still a big fan of *NSYNC. Not hard core like omg how am I going to get to Florida for Challenge for the Children, or let’s buy three sets of tickets to a concert trying to get as close to the stage as possible hard core, but still a pretty big fan. I was a fan club member so I could get all of the “breaking news” about the group, which in 2004 wasn't much. I did however chat on the message board from time to time. One of the girls, broomykisser, had bought tickets to the Clay Aiken concert at the Ohio State Fair. She had found closer seats and was trying to sell hers. Since I was in Columbus I guess it seemed logical that I take them. They were only 35 bucks, why not? From the way she talked about him it sounded like it would be a good concert. I bought the two that she had and made plans to go with my friend Susette.

Both of us went into the concert having no idea who Clay Aiken was. Of course we had heard of him, they played that silly song Invisible on the radio. The only episode of American Idol I had watched was half of the second to last episode while at work because we couldn’t find anything else on. He sang Bridge over Troubled Water which I found very boring and thought it was ridiculous that he had an entire choir singing with him. He was good and stayed on key, but his voice didn’t really do much for me. I voted for Ruben. My bad.

On to the concert.

After a song or two he started talking to the concert goers. He has an accent? Where is he from? Susette didn’t know, I’d have to google it later. From the first couple songs he seemed to be a pretty good singer though. Much better live then what I saw on American Idol and from hearing Invisible. And then he brought up a young girl to sing “Without You” with him, the duet he sang with Kimberly Locke. I loved it. The way he interacted with the girl was precious.

And then he sang “I Survived You”. Why didn't I know about this guy sooner?!?

And then the kicker was when he sang “You Were There”. Susette and I turned to each other and she said how it sounded like an Especially For Youth song, kind of churcy. She was right! I never would have expected that song at this concert. I was impressed. It brought tears to my eyes. Not that I would admit that or anything.

When the concert was over Susette and I made remarks to each other about how good it was, and how he was amazing live. Hearing him on the radio or a CD holds no justice to his live concerts. I would have to say I walked out a fan, wondering how I could have voted for Ruben.

I later bought his CD and found that his accent was from Raleigh, North Carolina.

Susette and I went to see his Jukebox Tour at the Ohio State Fair the following year. After that amazing concert was when the true fandom began. I learned more about him, I read his book, bought his Christmas CD, and eventually found a website, THE website, to download all of his TV appearances, performances, and concerts to assist me in becoming the fan I am today.

Cotton Candy

I went to a baseball game Saturday night. That was fun. Not so much because we won, because we didn't, but because it's fun to go enjoy my what seems to be an allotted one game per season.

As one of America's pastimes, at least before XBox, Playstation and Wii, there are guaranteed to be some classic attributes to the game. The prices of $2 hotdogs, $3 sodas, $3.50 cotton candy, and $5 for a box of cracker jacks, so you can sit and kinda sorta watch the game are a few that come to mind. Actually I didn't see any cracker jacks, but I'm pretty sure they're supposed to be at baseball games. Although I'm probably wrong on most of those numbers, maybe, the $3.50 for a bag of cotton candy was right. I think.

I didn't actually pay $3.50 for a bag of cotton candy, and for that I am appreciative for thank you, but I did have some. For not having eaten it in so long it was totally worth the $3.50. I'm not kidding. In all it's sticky, sugary, very blue goodness it made me think. What if I could eat this any time I wanted, and for FREE?!? And that was my goal at work today. Have good handle time while finding a way to make my never-ending supply of cotton candy.

After much, or not much, searching I came up with a very simple recipe. These directions were written for a younger audience, but can obviously be applied to anyone.

Here is what you will need:
Plastic swimming pool
50 pounds Dumino's sugar
20 gallons water
Dad's boat and motor
Dad's truck with trailer hitch
Gelatin (any flavor)

Directions:

Before you begin, make sure you get Dad's truck keys, preferably while he's sleeping. Grab some books to sit on when you are ready to drive the truck so you can see over the steering wheel. Back the truck (with the boat connected) up to your swimming pool.

Next, get out of the truck and start pouring the ingredients (sugar, water, and gelatin) into the pool. When you have finished doing that, start the boat motor (you got the boat key, right?). Make sure the boat propeller is in the pool. Mix all the ingredients very quickly while avoiding the side of the pool (you don't want holes in pool in case you decide you want to make more cotton candy later on). If you are in a big hurry, push the throttle wide open.

When you are finished, you should have a whole pool full of cotton candy. As a nice gesture, go wake Dad up and offer him some of your delicious homemade cotton candy. Dig in, remembering that Dumino's sugar is good for you. If you're lucky, you won't be grounded for life for using Dad's truck and boat or for using your $10.95 swimming pool.

Directions curtesy of http://jansown.com/.

And there you go folks. Watch out world, Melanie is about to make her very own cotton candy!

In other news, what's with all the illusive comments I've gotten about the relation between air conditioning and gas consumption?

Air conditioning and turn signals

I made a comment the other night about how I was not going to use my air conditioning this summer because of gas prices. One of the few facts I know is that air conditioning eats up gas at a pretty fair rate. That's correct right? Or is one of my few facts wrong? You know what, I don't want to know. If I'm wrong keep it to yourself. Anyhoo. It eats up gas at a fair enough rate, at least a rate to not want to use it. However, upon thinking about this comment I realize that is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever said. I'm not kidding. Gas prices whatever roll up the windows and turn on the air! Or if you don't want to roll up the windows to give the illusion that you're saving money that's fine, but I get shotgun and turn it on anyway so I can have the cool air blowing in my face. Point being, I take that comment back. Not that anyone cares, I'm just sayin.


On to turn signals.


It hasn't been that long since I got my driver's license. Or something like that. I don't know. I was like 79 when I finally got it so it seems like it hasn't been that long. I think. But I know when you get your license there's something on there about turn signals. Besides the body, and engine, and wheels, and all of the other pieces that make the car actually move, they seem to be a pretty important part. I'm assuming since they always make you turn them on and off every time you get your oil changed and then tell you it's illegal to drive without the blinky light and charge you an outrageous price for another light bulb the size of you finger. If it wasn't for the good looking guy who gave me a discount I would have refused.


But I digress.


Turn signals are used in the manner that their name describes. They signal when you are going to turn. Now as stated, or implied, above, I really don't remember what was said about turn signals on the driver's ed test. Although does anyone really? The only thing I know about when to use it is when you are about 100 feet from the distance you want to turn. Which that amount of distance may be completely wrong. The only reason I know that is from when Hillary Duff was on Punk'd and she was 16 or something and getting her driver's license. I don't remember exactly what was going on, I'm guessing she was probably about to turn on to another street, and upon being asked she stated that you were supposed to signal about 200 feet before the turn. The guy who was assisting in the Punk then corrected her and said it was 100 feet. So although we know that everything on television is the absolute truth, it could be neither.


Either way, the point is to signal well before you turn so those behind can prepare for the action. If it's two in the morning and no one is in the vicinity don't worry about it, or even if it's daylight and there aren't any cars around, feel free to save your ears from the annoying ticking that the action ignites. But for the love of, if there's someone two feet behind you, I might be exaggerating, turn it on so those around know what is about to occur. kthanx.

In other news, after listening to On My Way Here a few ::mumblemumble:: times I have finally started to write my review. I have a feeling it may take awhile though. Stay tuned.

7 8 9

I purchased the new Barenaked Ladies cd the other day.  Although when I say purchased I mean I bought six Clay Aiken cds so back off.  However if you would like to send the FBI after me please send Agent Booth from "Bones".  If not then don't bother. 

I love Barenaked Ladies and this cd is absolutely hilarious.  Below reads a bit of the song 7 8 9...

1, 2, 3 and 4 more makes 7
And 6 is afraid of 7...cause 7 ate 9!

Nine was minding his business
Talking to 10 about Gordy Howe's clothes
Why 7 ate 9, nobody knows.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10
What about 9?
Seven ate nine!

It's catchy and creative and fun.  And gets stuck in your head OMG!  Granted it's better then having "I like big butts and I cannot lie" but having three measly numbers in your head, those being 7,8, and 9, it gets kinda old.

Especially old at 3:30 in the morning.  Yes, I went to see the midnight showing of Prince Caspian last night. From The Chronicles of Narnia for you confused people such as my supervisor.  I must say it was quite good.  I am undecided if it was in my favor to have read the book though.  It's good because if you haven't read it, or at least seen the first movie, you're pretty much confused for the first half, or maybe the entire, movie.  But bad because you end up comparing it to the book and get all grrrrr because parts are left out (the giant folks, where was the giant?!?) or added parts (what's with Peter fist fighting?).  But overall I was quite pleased.  At least I'm assuming, it was past my bedtime.

Once home and retired to bed what should come to mind?  7 8 9.  7 8 9.  I tried to think of nothing, but you know that never works. I tried to think of how much I love Azlam and wished he was in more of the movie.  Or how freakin hot Prince Caspian is.  Or where was the giant.  And I tried counting sheep.  But then the only amount of sheep there were was 7 8 and 9.  

In case you were concerned, I did finally get to sleep, giving me about 4 hours sleep until my work day began. That was fun. 

Aren't you glad my websites were blocked here at work so you can get these spiffy blogs on a regular bases now?  It's ok to lie. 
 
In other news I seemed to have developed a speech impediment recently.  I'm not kidding.

A Night to Remember.

When I first saw these pictures I was all OMG the crazy, or enthusiastic as Clay likes to say, Claymates found his Manhattan apartment and have shown up all Britney Spears paparazzi like but dang he looks awfully happy for having that happen.

It's been ten days since Clay's last show of Spamalot. He certainly made it one to remember. Well, I wasn't there May fourth but you better believe I knew what was going on! And I must say, it was probably the craziest show the cast will ever have. For the few people that were there to actually see just the show they were all probably like... what the heck is going on? And for the love of keep quiet so we can hear the dialog for goodness sake! But apparently the actors had to do a lot of pausing in between lines to cheer and such, the audience, not the actors. Not just for Clay but for EVERYONE. That makes me happy.

Most excitedly it was the stage door. The entire alley was crammed with people. I think people were told there would be no evening stage door after the matinee that day but no matter... party in the Shubert Alley!

Apparently there was a photographer up on the roof of the theater taking pictures of the packed alley. Now picture one of those I-have-a-brilliant-idea light bulbs over Clay's head, or don't, but soon after, the crowd saw Jerome up there checking out the scene and you KNOW what that means. Yep. A few minutes later Clay shows up greeting the crowd. It was freakin awesome. I wish I was there. I weeped softly in both happiness and sadness. Maybe.

The perfect ending to a wonderful few months of Spamalot.
---

There was an article the other day on Variety.com about Broadway ticket sales.

Terrence Howard's return to "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" ($682,690) brought some heat back to the box office as the show rose more than $175,000, the largest jump of the frame.

On the other hand, the departure of American Idol alum Clay Aiken from "Monty Python's Spamalot" ($519,454) caused sales for the tuner to plummet by more than $300,000, the steepest slide of the sesh.

Now I don't follow ticket sales but I'm pretty dang sure that's not good. New York is a quieter place now folks. Not to say quiet, just quieter. No more Clay fans screaming all fan-girly like when a bus with a Spamalot advertisement passes, followed by chasing it down the street praying your camera is on and ready, while people give you the "this girl is insane" look while wondering if she's really going to cross that crosswalk without looking for any crazy taxi drivers that really don't care if people are in the middle of the road. Not that I know this happened or anything. ::whistles::

Clay's run on Broadway was a time to remember. And should he ever decide to do it again I will start searching for a Manhattan apartment the day before it is announced, then spend my life fortune to go see it every other night.

In other news, don't expect to see me at any activities or parties anymore, I have to save money on gas so I can get a life fortune started.

I got to work the other day and look what I see...

Yes, you read that right. I am the 30 day star of my team! I'm not exactly sure of the requirements for such an honor, but nonetheless, my name is on the wall and I am proud of it! Of course, not knowing the requirements, I had to consider what the different reasons are and how I got this honor.

1. POC percentage - this is the percentage of claims you take in relation to the amount of calls. Ideally you open and close a claim on every call. This is unfortunate because that means you can't pace around in your little cubicle decorated with Spamalot and Clay Aiken concert stubs while on calls because you're constantly typing. Many claims you can't close due to farther research needed, others don't even need a claim because the customer called our department in error, or was transferred by a banker because they didn't know what to do. But the more claims you open and close the better.


My POC rate is pretty dang good.


2. Average handle time - this includes three parts; time spent on a call, after call work (acw) and hold time. They like handle time to be about 6 minutes 40 seconds. Or something like that.


My April AHT was spot on. Go me.


3. Utilization percentage - this is the percentage of time spent on a call to the amount that you are in acw and breaks. Utilization should be AT LEAST 65%. The higher the better. For example, a 5.5 minute call and 1 minute acw is fantastic!


I fail in this. My utilization is pretty much crap because my time on a call is usually too low, thus I try to bump my handle time up by hanging out in acw, which drops utilization. It's a vicious cycle and totally not fair I say. They blocked The Clayboard a couple weeks ago which was beyond tragic. They also blocked fark.com this past weekend which was not as tragic but just plain annoying. So now my after call work consists of twiddling my thumbs, writing this blog, and being just plain bored. Not to say blog writing is horrible, but The Clayboard was just something to keep a smile on my face. Sometimes. Other days it's just plain impossible.


4. Random picking.


Personally I vote that it's random picking. Why you ask? Because I'm almost the last person of our team to have their name taped up on that pretty star. Psh. From such a wonderful score card I should have been up there first. I'm just sayin.


Either way it's still spiffy and now I have the picture to add to my resume. I'll just print it up on a post-it note and "accidentally" have it stuck on the front of the paper when I take them to interviews. I'm sure it's a guaranteed $1000 salary increase. I'll keep you updated.

Melanie’s Most Excellent South Bend Adventure

When: My 25thish birthday (i.e. November 28th, 2007)
Where: Mainly on the highway, a brief time in South Bend Indiana
What: Clay Aiken’s Christmas in the Heartland concert.

First of all. I don’t know why I’m an Official Fan Club member. The special pre-sale tickets reserved especially for valued members like myself are not even worth the $29.95 I paid for the membership. Clay’s occasional blog might be worth it though. Maybe. Ok, yeah. I talked myself into it, I’ll renew my membership.

Anyhoo.

After much ticket stress I got my tickets through the theater’s website, not the OFC, because their seats were worthless. Center orchestra, Row E, which actually translates into about row 10-15. You choose. After having them for about two months it was finally the day of the concert. Finally.

Somehow Susette and I got on the road late. I don’t know why, I’m always on time, if not early, for everything. I’ll blame her. We made a quick stop by Wal-mart, buying enough junk food for five trips to Indiana, and off we headed to South Bend. Which, in case you didn’t know South Bend is actually north. Very north. Google maps should have reminded me of the fact that this was going to be a one day trip and to wait and see if there were going to be any other concerts scheduled in the area before buying tickets. I’ll blame Google.

As a passenger I had four jobs. 1. give Susette the quarters when we got to a toll, 2. keep an eye out for cops, 3. directions, 4. freak out about the traffic that was delaying our arrival at the theater. I did a good job on number 4 anyway. And I think I did an ok job holding the phone and repeating everything that my VZNavigator was instructing Susette to do because I couldn’t understand the actual directions on a map. Moving on.

The show was fantastic. My pictures were not. I obviously bought my camera too close to the time of the show and didn’t know how to use it. I got one perfect picture, that being of Quiana, not Clay. Go figure. But the show was wonderful and Clay was amazing. On a kind of same note (haha. Note. Clay sings. Get it?), we found out that Clay is in love with a stripper, either that or he was talking about the song I’m In luv Wit A Stripper. Whichever. But I assure you it fit right in with the Christmas season and what he was bantering about. Kind of. I would add a completely appropriateish comment on this subject now, but unless you’re a 50 year old Claymate it’s not worth it. Ha.

We decided that we weren’t about to drive the however many hour drive it would be to get home. Instead we found a nice cheap, or inexpensive, motel and followed my VZNavigator directions to said motel. I don’t remember the name, it’s probably best that I don’t. I will however make a brief mention of how classy it was. The floors felt like they were wet, maybe due to the heat being off, maybe not. The cups provided in the room had a nice big crack in them, so I had to share my daily allowance of water with my sweater, and, hmm, it’s probably best I don’t remember the name.

In the morning we went to Ihop. I had never been to Ihop and until recently firmly believed it was a club. It’s definitely not a club, but they do serve some very good breakfast. The hot chocolate not as good, or not good, but either way both of us ate too much and have the pictures to prove it.

We hit the road and were back home in no time. Ok, not really no time. But it was uneventful anyway.

I didn’t get to introduce myself to Clay yet but I’m working on it. I carry around my special rabbit foot 24/7 in the hopes it will help me out. Or not really because that’s cruel to the rabbits. But maybe the next tour will bring me better luck. Mwaa!