15 January 2010
I was late to work today and, while driving in, I received a call from my supervisor wondering where I was. I had emailed her two hours earlier explaining why I would be late but, as luck would have it, she didn’t get the email. I’m not sure why; on my home computer it shows that I emailed her, yet she showed my her email file at work, and she clearly didn’t receive anything. She didn’t mind, which was cool of her, she was just concerned that I wasn’t showing up at work.
Why does that sort of thing always seem to happen? I can send out the most asinine emails, and they arrive at their intended destination with no problem, but important stuff too often gets lost in cyberspace. Weird.
Speaking of emails, one of my co-workers sent this to me the other day, and I think it’s probably the funniest thing I read all week. If you read it, make sure you read the whole thing (come on, it’s not that long) and don’t read the final paragraph until you get there: CLICK THIS.
16 January 2010
Today we went to the Children’s Museum. It was a last-minute decision. At about 11:00 this morning, Jennifer said I should try and find something for us to do. I opened up my laptop, and I had left the internet open to the Minnesota Atheists Meet-up page. There was a meet-up scheduled for noon at the Children’s Museum, so we got ready quickly and drove there.
There were about 20 people in attendance from our group, and we all met in this little cafeteria area and ate lunch first. I liked the idea of being there with a group of people, though sometimes it was tough to stay together as a group. Not that it mattered too much, Owen doesn’t really play with the other kids.
The thing he likes to play with best is this assembly-line-type deal (yeah, I don’t know how else to describe it). There’s a conveyor belt that kids put these grey cubes onto. The belt lifts the cubes up to the second floor where they fall onto tracks that drop them onto another conveyor belt. Then the kids can drop them down a hole where they land back on the first floor and the whole process can start again. I guess it’s one of those things you have to see to understand. Anyway, Owen thinks it’s the best exhibit at the Museum and I think he would spend all day intensely moving useless cubes from point A to point B and back to point A again.
17 January 2010
Today I went to hear Representative Phyllis Khan speak about how to lobby your State Legislator. The presentation was sponsored by Minnesota Atheists. Though it’s always interesting to meet up with someone in government, she didn’t actually speak on her topic. She just kind of talked about some things going on at the state-level right now and answered several questions from the audience. One woman, who admitted her question was was off topic, began by saying that she is an optician and she wants to know how to get a law passed requiring licensing for opticians in Minnesota. This was a subject I knew about all too well a decade ago when I was in the optical industry. Basically, here’s the problem: in nearly every other state, persons must pass a state test to become opticians. In Minnesota, though, anyone can go in and get hired at, say America’s Best Eyewear, and wear a name tag that says “optician” on it. The woman specifically called out Lenscrafters for their attempts to block such legislation, which is true, but I think it’s a bit unnecessary. First of all, if you go into Lenscrafters or any other eyeglass store, just ask to be assisted by a certified optician. A certified optician is someone who has taken & passed the American Board of Opticianry examination. When I was employed at Lenscrafters, I started as just a regular salesperson. After quite a bit of in-house training (including written tests), I was promoted to Apprentice Optician. I was an Apprentice Optician for nearly three years, during which time I garnered even more experience, and took a college class on opticianry. Finally, I took the A.B.O.’s test, passed it, and then – only then – was I given a new name tag showing that I was an optician. Hanging on the wall in the store for all customers to see was my certificate.