A sudden, unnoticeable shift in employment

I officially became a full-time employee of Barnes & Noble today, meaning ... well, not a whole lot. In 60 days, I'll qualify for a pretty nice set of benefits. But in 60 days, I'd like to have a better-paying job that also has a nice set of benefits. Still, I shouldn't belittle what I've got. I'm sure there are a lot of folks out there who wish they had fun, easy jobs that offer health insurance, even if they don't pay a fortune.

So I'm happy.

There's been a bit of movement on the job front. After some hefty soul-searching, I turned down an interview with Rotary International for a Web editor position. It paid up to $52,000...gulp...but we just have very little interest in living in Chicago right now. We're happier than we've been in a long time, and I'm sure some equally cool jobs will come along. Plus, $50,000 in Evanston is probably about like $30,000 here in Birmingham, and getting a house would be a lot easier here.

I've applied for five or so jobs recently...writer for CNN.com, writer for Cartoon Network's Web site, project manager for a local publishing house, etc. I'm working on applications for a few other local editing jobs, and I have some freelance ideas I'd like to get moving on. And there's still the possibility of good-paying consulting work in the near future, although I'm not banking on it.

OK, I'll end this bit of miscellaneous job ramblings with a shameless endorsement: SportClips. It's a haircut place with the gimmick of letting you watch sports while you get your cut. That's not a big draw to me...in fact, I almost left the parking lot when I saw all the TVs.

But...I got a good cut, along with a free shampoo, scalp massage, shoulder rub and one of those hot towels on the face. Seriously, I didn't think anything that felt that good was legal in Alabama. So, if you have one in your area, don't let the jumbotron and batting-cage atmosphere scare you off.

Merry Christmas from Cafe Asteria

It'll be a few days before I have time to post again, so I just wanted to throw out a quick note of thanks to all of our wonderful friends and family who have been so supportive during these months of chaos and uncertainty. Without you all, especially my wonderful wonderful unparalleled sister and her equally stupendous husband, this move to Alabama likely would not have been the great experience it has been.

Wishing you all the best,

Griner

10 steps to not angering your barista

I might not have been working the cafe for very long now, but I've quickly accumulated a list of ways to avoid infuriating the guy or gal who has full access to the drink you just paid $6 for. So excuse the inherent bitterness of such a project and enjoy these simple tips.

1. Don't hover over the barista. This is my personal pet peeve, when people order their drinks and then come stand next to the counter, watching me make it. It's disconcerting, especially when there are several drinks in front of theirs. They keep saying, "Is that my grande skinny decaf mocha? Oh.... Don't forget it's decaf! Is that it? You didn't forget it, did you?" There's one exception: I actually kinda like it when parents let their kids watch me make their hot chocolates. The kids think I'm a super hero, especially when I put on the whipped cream. But everyone else needs to step off and wait for the shout-out.

2. Try not to order your drink "extra hot." Of the 700 ways people like to order their drinks, this is the most frustrating. First, it implies I don't know how to make a drink. Second, and most obnoxiously, it makes us blast an entire steam pitcher up past 170 degrees (the last tasty temperature of milk) just because you want to scald your few remaining tastebuds. One steam pitcher can make four drinks, so an extra-hot order forces me to shuffle the drink order (pushing that one to last, by the way, so I can spike the temp later) if I don't want to be lazy and make all the drinks extra hot. Most baristas would just be lazy and give torched milk to everybody. PS: I say "try not to order" that way because you might frequent a coffee shop where they just don't make drinks hot enough. If that's the case, go for it. But it's best just to specify a temperature if you're worried: 170 for drinks with whipped cream, 160 for those without.

3. If you used to work at a Starbucks, don't mention it. It doesn't do any good for anyone involved.

4. Look at your drink when you pick it up. Did you order a tall? Then why did you grab a venti? I'm amazed every day how many people pick up the wrong drink, sip from it, dump a bunch of Splenda in it, etc. Of course, I've done it, too. But still, just pay attention. I will admit, though, this is the best reason for me to re-make a drink. The customer never gets mad when I say, "Some guy grabbed your drink, put a fistfull of Equal in it, wandered around the store for five minutes, then returned it. I'll make you a new one."

5. Bus your own table. Clean up your own sugar spill. Wipe up your creamer explosion. And, if you happen to be at a Barnes and Noble/Borders/etc., don't leave your books and magazines on the table when you take off. I know, the kind of people who read this aren't the kind of people who do these things, but I'm just trying to do my part to help.

6. Don't use the adjective "Regular" to describe anything. It starts a flurry of questions. Do you mean medium? Non-decaf? Just once, I want someone to order an "irregular coffee."

7. Never underestimate the people behind the counter. The cafe crew is probably the most educated I've ever worked with, and they know a lot about a lot of things. The customers who get treated the best are the ones who respect the crew and ask the right questions. ("What's a low-carb coffee drink?" "How do you make a macchiato?" etc.)

8. The whipped cream is low-fat. Just take our word on it. You'd have to eat a few cups of it to get some serious fat content. No one believes this.

9. Tip. Even if there's no jar. Especially if there's no jar.

10. Don't ever cite the drink-making prowess of Olive Garden.

Drifting from "us" to "them"

I've been grappling with a theory lately, but I haven't quite gotten it nailed down. So I figure this is the best place to try and make sense of it.

It's not that revolutionary, but I've realized lately that I feel more connected with the real world now that I'm not doing journalism. Working at a cafe, I meet a ton of diverse people every day, and I work with folks who come from just about every kind of background.

In journalism, I feel like we get isolated with other journalists -- who are generally great, interesting people, but they often come from the same mold. They're inquisitive, cynical, and saddled by a modern tradition of feigning emotion or conservative morality. What I mean is, journalists never talk about sources or stories the same way they write about them. We tear-jerkingly portray the tough plight of some unlucky bastard, but at home, we talk about how the person shouldn't have been so stupid or gullible to get into the fix.

Journalists (and politicians....especially politicians) are probably most guilty of pretending to care about things that no real person cares about.

At work, we talk about the importance of Constitutional process, or the corruption-sweeping powers of independent audits, or the fiscal forecast of the municipal budget. But in their personal lives, I'm sure that journalists and politicians are like everyone else .... we care about the fact that there aren't any good movies out right now, and traffic is a one-way drive to sucksville, and the fact that yeah you should be jogging more except that jogging is boring and it's really cold and ooo a new episode of Project Runway is on tonight.

As I said before, none of this is revolutionary. We all know that journalists and politicians have cast themselves apart from the rest of U.S. society. But the new thing for me is living on the other side and seeing just how drastically little everyone cares about the stuff that used to fill my day. I love the broad cross-section of Birmingham I've gotten to meet by selling coffee. I love that I don't just meet customers when they're complaining or trying to rat out their city councilman/neighbor/power company/illegal immigrant gardener. I love that I don't have to worry that conversations are going to drift instantly political as people try to figure out which side of the fence I'm really on. (Although it still happens, of course, but that's a gripe for another entry.)

So what this has led me to wonder is, what will I do with this lesson if I return to journalism? How can I stay more grounded in a field that seems to revel in elevating itself above the masses and then wonders why no one respects it?

I suppose that's the part I need to figure out.

I could've if I'd wanted to. Yeah.

It's been a while since I was in a college computer lab, but that didn't stop me from enjoying this tongue-in-cheek advice column on picking up women amid the nerdiest of nerdies.

Two of the best pieces of advice:

DON'T post to a blog
I cannot stress this enough: do not let a girl see you posting to any kind of blog. You will never, ever get laid. Seriously. Take it from me.

... and this suggestion on getting out of an awkward situation ...

GIRL: Are you looking at porn?
YOU: No.
GIRL: I can see porn right there on your screen.
YOU: Then YOU'RE looking at porn.
GIRL: What the hell are you talking about?
(pause)YOU: I'll give you this free iTunes song if you have sex with me.

Zombie history has waited for the XBox360

A few months back, I mentioned that there was a zombie game in development, but I couldn't remember the title. I stumbled across a preview the other day, and I figured I'd pass on these screenshots to any fellow zombie fanatics.

It's called "Dead Rising," and the unique aspect is that you're not fighting a handful of zombies at a time; you're taking on the whole "Dawn of the Dead"-esque army.

And, like any true butt kicker, the hero is a journalist.

Oooh, pretty

I've been tackling a few funky projects lately, and one of the more rewarding ones is nearly complete.

Before I left California, I asked my friend Brian to help redesign another friend's business Web site. Brian slammed out a design and e-mailed it to me, but I hadn't really had time to look at it in the months since. The other day, I buckled down and started using the template to rebuild the site.

The site is www.mediaforesight.org, home of Media Foresight Associates. This is the consulting business of which I am officially an associate, although I haven't been able to offer many services since the big move. Rich Somerville, the president, has been a close friend since my college days, when he hired a shaggy-haired Griner to be a research associate at New Directions for News (now defunct).

Rich then moved out to California, where he hired me to be his city editor while he was editor of The Union. Rich was a great boss, and I was excited to see his consulting business take off at the beginning of this year. When I left The Union, he hired me on as a consulting associate with the firm, and we hope to make it more than a ceremonial position in the coming months.

Anyway...on to the pretty stuff.

Here are some before-and-after links so you can see what I was able to do with Brian's design:

1. Before: Front page
2. After: Front page
3. Before: Who We Are
4. After: Who We Are
5. Before: Articles and White Papers
6. After: Articles and White Papers
7. Before: What People Say About Us
8. After: What People Say About Us

I hope you guys like the new design. I think it better reflects Rich's level of professionalism and skill, and it's a really flexible, crisp look that will work well for quite a while. What do you think?

Rich and I are also getting a blog going for him to keep folks posted on trends and news in the journalism industry. I'll obviously drop a link to it when it's ready to go. Oh, and it'll probably replace the Newstradamus feature on the front page, so don't be surprised if that doesn't look like it benefitted from the redesign.

What, no leeches?

Well, it appears I have a full-blown infection in my lungs, which has me out of commission on doctor's orders for a few days. For most people, being told not to work Saturday or Sunday would feel like a waste, but I was scheduled to work both, so...yay.

(As for the graphic, I just like thinking that any major illness would have cost me the ultimate price on the Oregon Trail.)

Last night, I got laid out by the most intense sinus pain of my life. It lasted about 12 hours, and I went to the doc this morning. After a shot in each butt cheek, a five-minute breathing treatment with some sort of inhalant medicine, two advil and two prescriptions, I was out the door! I guess it actually was worth signing up for COBRA insurance.

In a more upbeat piece of news, Karen and I were happy to find a surprise in our mailbox the other day: the title to her car! We took some of the money from selling mine and used it to pay hers off, which means we have $0 in debt!!! (We recently paid off the credit card, which had lingered at $2,000 or more for a while.)

I plan to buy my next car with cash, once one of us has reliable employment. Karen has a job interview with the local university next week, so we're both obviously excited about that. It's administrative work, which pays well but not might be a dream job. But discounted schooling would sure open up some doors to more fun jobs.

Our zero-debt approach was inspired by a finance radio show guy named Dave Ramsey. His Web site's pretty cheesed out with his promotional stuff, but I like his basic ideas. I heard him on the radio when we were moving to Alabama, and it instantly resonated with me. I picked up his book "The Total Money Makeover," which I would definitely recommend. He gives easy-to-understand, practical advice on saving money long-term.

His basic steps are:
1. Do everything you can to save $1,000 in cash as quickly as possible. (We, thankfully had quite a bit more than that saved when we decided to move.)
2. Start a "debt snowball," where you list your debts from smallest to largest (not counting house). Pay as much as you physically can each month to the smallest debt until it is gone. Meanwhile, keep paying minimum payments on everything else. When one is killed, move on to the next-smallest debt. Do this until you're out of debt. This usually takes years, but since Karen and I were a bit ahead of the game with savings, we were able to pull this off in about two months. We had the money, we just hadn't been smart about using it to pay off debt.
3. Increase your emergency reserve to $10,000, in case you decide to do something stupid like quit your jobs and move cross-country. We're still a bit short of this one, but it's a good goal. With few bills to pay these days, we're saving pretty much everything we don't spend on food or Christmas shopping.
4. Pay off your mortgage as fast as possible.
5. Set up and invest in college savings plans for your kids.
6. Invest in a diverse, mutual fund-based portfolio and max out your retirement savings.
7. Continue to expand your wealth, and focus on philanthropy.

I just think it's interesting that this guy made a New York Times best-seller out of a book that calls for a 14-year (on average), amazingly intense commitment. While we probably won't be as strong with these goals as we should be, they have helped us focus our priorities at a time of economic uncertainty.

OK, back to following doctor's orders: "Your job is to take it easy for two days." After two shots in the ass, that's a welcome prescription.

Killin time

I'm homebound today with a wicked cold, but it could definitely be worse. I could be Jonas, who spent a good chunk of Saturday morning throwing up blood (and proving once and for all that he was the dog that ate the bottle of pain pills), or I could be these poor bastards.

Jonas is fine now, in case you're concerned. The vet is pretty sure he'll avoid long-term liver damage. That bowl of bourbon we give him to help sleep every night probably won't help in the long run, though.

So as I try to find a way to kill time today, I figure I'd share some good Internet pastimes:

• The Perry Bible Fellowship - This PG-13 comic appears in some alternative newspapers (including, impressively, Birmingham's). Not all are that hilarious, but every once in a while there's a big winner. Scroll down to Lord Gloom and Schlorbians Again for two of my favorites.
• The Secret Satan video - In case you didn't see it when it was posted on fark.com. Gets the holidays started right. It's long, but be patient. There's a nice little breakdown scene near the end.
• The hockey name generator - Were I to pick up the stick professionally (um, you know what I mean) then apparently I would be called "Bob McGrinerchuck" (if Canadian) or Denis La Grinereau (if French-Canadian). What about you?

What would Olive Garden do?

Woke up this morning to the dual panic of my sister realizing that A) her flight to London today apparently was never really booked and B) one of our dogs ate a big bottle of pain pills. After some fun last-second ticket shopping and vomit-inducing, everything seems to be OK.

However, it's still up in the air which dog actually at the pills, which were Rimadyl chewables for my sister's oldest dog's back pain. Because high doses can be toxic for the liver and gastro system, both Loki (the oldest dog) and Jonas (my mutt) have to take Zantac pills for two weeks. Odds are good that Jonas was the one who ate them, since he's the biggest shithead, but we have to be safe. Only one dog, the puppy Picasso, was ruled out because we induced vomiting and found only his breakfast. Sorry, buddy. The other two dogs apparently have a strong stomach for hydrogen peroxide.

Anyway, moving on...

I previously mentioned that I was the second oldest worker at the cafe, after a fella named Rick. I've worked with him a few times and went out for drinks with him last night after closing, and sure enough, he's a pretty interesting guy.

Rick's primary job is in hiring at UAB, which is cool, since that's where both Karen and I are considering working. But he works at Barnes and Noble as a side job, and he loves it. He seems to share my love of getting to meet so many different people in a day, even if the interaction is limited (which can, of course, be a blessing).

I've decided to start keeping track of the random comments I hear sometimes when I go out to clean the lobby. You pick up unpredictable little tidbits of life, like groups of religious teens talking about peer pressure, or the awkward attempts at conversation on a first date. As I get some good ones, I'll post them on the blog.

The only other interesting day-to-day thing to track is the strange requests people make. I'm used to the "half-caf skinny caramel machiato no whip affogato style" kind of stuff, but then there are the things that just confuse me.

I stopped in today just to buy a cup of coffee (hard to beat the 50% employee discount), and a woman was lecturing one of our best baristas about how she wanted him to steam the milk and espresso together. (Normally, you drop the milk on top of the espresso.) Now, this isn't incredibly rare or strange, but her logic sure was. It consisted of two points:

1. "When you don't steam them together, you burn the milk."
2. "That's how Olive Garden does it for me."

Just when you're trying to get your head around the burning milk aspect, your brain comes to a screeching halt. "Did she just say Olive Garden?"

In case you care or can't figure this out yourself, putting espresso in cold milk and steaming it will not magically change the scalding point of milk (which is about 180F). But apparently at the Olive Garden, the espresso acts as some kind of safety valve, and when the milk starts to get too hot...I don't know, maybe the whole thing changes color or starts to smell like pistachios.

Yeah, I can take all manner of rudeness and ignorance, but amazingly flawed logic (coupled with a that's-not-how-they-do-it-at-Olive-Garden attitude) is just the best.

Olive Garden. Christ.