Another day, another personality test.

My friend Ryan found this quiz online, and so I thought I'd take it. My results?

Televangelist You are 42% Rational, 57% Extroverted, 0% Brutal, and 57% Arrogant.

As the Lord as my witness, I swear upon the good book that you are indeed the TELEVANGELIST! Characterized by extreme arrogance, self-assurance, and extroversion, you would make a very charismatic leader (or a very despotic one). On top of that, you are also more intuitive than rational, predisposing you to a more spiritual or emotional outlook on life. Thus, you are thoroughly irrational. You also tend to be rather gentle and considerate of others' feelings. Clearly, you would make the perfect televangelist. Emotional, extroverted, arrogant, and gentle, you annoy the hell out of people who have to listen to the feel-good, intuitive shit spewing from your mouth. Not only that, but people may look down on you as a self-centered asshat. So while you are gentle and genuinely care about others, it is quite clear that you still care about yourself MORE. Why is your personality flawed? Because you are too damned extroverted, emotional, and arrogant. So preach your irrational message, brotha-man! I assure you, no one will be listening! To put it less negatively: 1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational. 2. You are more EXTROVERTED than introverted. 3. You are more GENTLE than brutal. 4. You are more ARROGANT than humble. Compatibility: Your exact opposite is the Spiteful Loner. Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Hippie, the Starving Artist, and the Robot.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 22% on Rationality You scored higher than 61% on Extroversion You scored higher than 0% on Brutality You scored higher than 65% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on Ok Cupid

So, let me get this straight here. I got a Brutality Rating of ZERO PER CENT?

Eh, at least I didn't get Sasquatch nerd, like D! suggested I might. (Stupid robot...)

A bigger post tomorrow, I promise. Off to wrestling.

Thanks for the invite!

Two days ago, I got the following email in my mailbox.

Dear Andrea,

The department of Art and Design would like to offer you a space in our program. Please find attached, a letter of acceptance to the Bachelor of Fine Arts program. I will forward this to the Faculty of Arts and the Registrar's Office to request admittance on your behalf.

Please send me an email immediately to indicate whether or not you would like to accept our invitation.

Thank-you.

Now I was confused, since I don't remember applying for the Fine Arts program at the U of A. Also, my name wasn't Andrea and I wasn't from Calgary.

I sent a letter back to the registrar, saying that it went to the wrong place, and that she should try again. I figured out Andrea's last name was Kowalchuk, and if her email address happened to be something like akow@telus.net, then one letter accidentally dropped off would go directly into the Kow mailbox. Which leads to my computer.

As it was, the email address was similar, but only if you leave off the full first name of her father. So, there you go.

Now you people can stop congratulating me.

* * *

At our last Kow meeting, we had the Wombats join us, since they've also got an outdoor stage this Fringe. We're trying to figure out ways to cross promote each other and occasionally join each other's shows.

Obviously, for Kow to be useful during an improv show, we can sing background music for a particular sketch, or make noises, or so forth. But how do we get them in our show? Dev and I were trying to mull it over. We decided maybe we can let them do one of our many rants (such as mine in Spider-Man, Canton's in Sukiyaki, Astro's in Faith, etc.). It'd be an easy thing for us to vamp while they promote their show or something.

At the end of the meeting, I asked Paul how many shows they had. "Sixteen," Paul said.

"Yeah, we would have had sixteen too, but we can't make three of them. So I guess we'll drop them."

"Whoa!" Paul said. "Don't drop a show! Why would you do that?"

I explained that Astro and Barber will still be doing their day jobs during Fringe, so it'll be impossible for them to make the very early afternoon shows, like 12:45 pm and 2:00 pm. And it would be super-hard for Canton, Dev and I to trio these slots.

But what we decided to do is to share the slots with the Wombats. Canton, Dev and I are all pretty decent improvisers, and it could be a pretty fun show with Paul and Randy. Hell, with five of us, we can even make it a special Pavlov Improv Fringe show. Now that would be cool.

* * *

On Wednesday evening, Roland and I were closing the store. At about 8:30, this man comes in, wanting to upgrade his cell phone. I'm handling him, but I need to see what can be done, since he's off a monthly plan, and I'd need to switch him to a whole new plan. While I was calling Rogers, he went for something to eat.

"Man," I told Roland. "Looks like I'm not getting out of here until 10 pm at least!"

"Why?" he asked me.

The clock was currently 8:50. It would be hard for me to renew his plan, do the upgrade, and help this guy out before I could properly leave.

As it was, his old plan was something like 1600 minutes monthly, free long distance anywhere in North America, and included "By the Second Billing," something Rogers hasn't offered in three years.

So I had to change his plan, which would kill the second billing, and the price has gone up by $30 a month.

This guy was pretty pushy, too. But all I could think was "It's a sale, he'll be out of here. It's a sale, he'll be out of here." So I kept my cool.

At about 9:30, he told me he was impressed with my handling of him, and asked me if I wanted a job at his company, which would pay me more than what I'm making here. As I always do when I'm headhunted, I thanked him, but said I'm doing fine where I am.

Besides, if the guy frustrated me for an hour when I'm doing a cell phone, think of how often I'd get pissed off when dealing with him day in, day out.

As it was, I was done with him at 10 pm. And still had to close the store. I left the store one tired Jago at 10:30, ruing the fact that tomorrow I'd be doing a 12 hour shift right after this one.

So I get in and start my twelve hours, selling and putting away stock, thinking to myself, "Look towards Saturday. Look towards Saturday."

At 12:00 pm, Roland calls in sick. Swell. He was the only other person scheduled. So now I'm doing a 12 hour shift alone. I'm tired after a twelve regardless, but when I'm stressed out, can't get anything to eat, can't leave the store, can't hit the washroom? My day just hit rock bottom.

I called up Mark and told him the news. He told me he'd come in a bit. For a little while. Which was better than the alternative, mind you.

He came about 2 or 2:30. And was distracted with Ron, another manager, who was giving the store a visit. So I ran for some food.

He happened to pick the busy time to come, because when I came back with my oh-so-deserved sub, I had to spend another fifteen minutes helping customers. And then told him I was going to eat.

In the back room, I unwrap the sub, and am about to take a huge bite, when another rush comes. Sigh. He left again at 4. So I was alone until 9.

The reason I appreciate people with me during my twelve hour shifts, is that my mind tends to shut down about the ten hour mark or so. I end up making mistakes, losing my focus, just not caring.

Which is why, during another busy period at 7 pm, where I was selling a guy an Expressvu system and there was a lineup, some older kids managed to walk out of the store with a $120 toy. When I noticed it missing two hours later (my brain had shut off), I was livid.

So today I start to work at Kingsway for a few days. It's nice that Jeff thought of me as someone to run his store while he's gone. But I wasn't so happy to do it when my store's got a guy who's being investigated by Loss Prevention, and our girl's not comfortable enough to be left on her own.

Good thing Mark's getting a new employee today. No, wait. He has to train as well as do everything else? Yipes.

Well, good thing I'm at a store where there's two or three new hires. No, wait. I have to train as well as keep the store in shape? Double yipes.

Finally...

So, yeah, I've been delinquent here at my journal. Hope you guys are starving for some Jago writing...

Now it's been a fairly long time since my last post telling you about some stuff. When it comes to wrestling, it looks like Canton's got it covered. Needless to say, my boss has really shown my friends and I some great matches that have us fearing for Mark's life.

Inventory: Never really PROPERLY done, since Mark and I both had a crapload of commitments that were keeping us from taking a good amount of time to do the inventory. There was about a 19% error in what we had vs. what we should have had, but we were expecting that, with what the previous managers weren't doing. Looks like there might be another one when I'm on vacation. And when Mark's wrestling. Yipes.

Justice's Bachelor Party: A fun time, although I had to leave early due to inventory the next day.

At one point, I was asking Justice about what his dad must have thought of me back in the days where I'd go over to the Engel house for wrestling.

Me: I can just imagine your dad asking, "Adam, who's that driving around the block four times?"

(A very inebriated) Justice: [silently shocked, whispered] You just said the dead man's name.

Me: Oh fer... I was referring to a time BEFORE you changed your name.

Justice: I don't care. I can't believe you'd call me by the dead man's name!

What followed was a five minute debate over the logistics of telling stories from a time BEFORE Justice Gray and what I should call him if speaking as someone in that timeframe.

Since I'm on the subject of Justice, let's skip to the wedding that occurred this Saturday.

Dev and I went, and were afraid there might not be many people from our circle of friends there. We were right. There was our friend Mike ushering, and Justice came by to give us hugs before the ceremony, but otherwise, we were on our own.

I realized during the wedding that Helen's the sister of one of my old Grant Mac Journalism classmates. This was realized when I saw Jo-Jo as a bridesmaid, and wondered if that was indeed her, since we haven't seen each other/talked for five years. It was only when I heard her talk that I could confirm it.

(Funny thing was, I'm pretty sure when I got the invite last month, I saw "Helen Mah" and asked myself, "Wouldn't it be funny if she was related to Jo-Jo?")

Dev had brought his travel mug full of coffee (it was an early noon service), and I snickered when, during the processional, everyone stood up and turned around to watch the bride come down the aisle. When Helen was a pew away from us, Dev instinctively went for a drag from his mug before realizing that he was in full view of the bride at this point.

At the reception, we were pleased to be seated with some people we knew: Mike and my old friend Otis, who's disappeared off my social list some three years ago. There was a lot of catching up and socializing at our table (which, according either to the gods or to people who know us, traditionally is as far away from the head table as we can be.)

Justice's friend Suresh was master of ceremonies, along with Jo-Jo. Problem is, Suresh's style of humour, while fine for Justice, is not the best choice for the dozens of elder family members who prefer their socials to be more, um, socially acceptable.

Suresh decided to improv at times, which led to such precious moments as offending all of the Mah side of the reception when he said "Chinese, Japanese, whatever you are..."

There was a gasp and then a silence. One of the younger Chinese kids broke the silence with an extremely well-placed "Let's get 'im!"

My favourite part of the evening was the toast to the groom, done by his best man, Philip. I was crying. Mostly from the laughing-so-hard-I-couldn't-see-or-breathe aspect.

Philip: "My job is to talk about my friend Justice Gray. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how good at that I'll be, considering I've only known Justice for four years, and that was primarily through e-mail and the very occasional telephone call."

In my mind: "Eh? I thought Philip and Justice met in elementary school."

Philip: "Now, Adam Engel, on the other hand..."

From my table, a loud chorus of "Whoooo!"s and whooping was heard. (Damn. I knew they put us there for a reason.)

Philip then goes into this story of a lot of Adam's prior alter egos over the course of their friendship. I couldn't see I was laughing so hard.

Good wedding, a fun time afterwards.

* * *

A few weeks ago, I was working by myself. I was preoccupied with some paperwork and only noticed the girl who was waiting patiently on the other side of the counter.

I start. "Oh! Hi! How can I help you?"

"Are you hiring?"

I look her over. She's blonde, very cute, and relatively tall. I look her over again.

"Always."

I take her resume. She was professional, wasn't looking like she just stepped out of bed. I consider who Mark would have to fire to hire this girl. I then contemplate if I'd be able to get any work done with her around.

After five minutes of carefully considering if she'd be too much of a distraction, I decided I could be professional about it. Unfortunately, we couldn't justify hiring a fifth person on staff. I faxed her resume into district office.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I'd talk Tannis up in front of Mark, hissing, when I could, "Hire this girl!"

* * *

This past week, I had to hit Rogers training. Even though I've taken the course before. Even though I'm one of the select few that's certified by Rogers. (Sorry, had to take a rain break. It started to storm here, and it's blazing hot inside the house. I went out onto the porch for a few minutes and let the rain cool me down. I am a little damp, but much cooler now. On with the story.) But two days off of work is two days off of work. So I go.

On the first day of training, at the TD Tower elevators, I notice a cute girl standing, looking confused. She starts following me into the elevator, and asks me if I'm going to training. Oh, okay. A very cute girl in the class with me. Nice.

At training, I notice three very good looking girls. Seriously, three in the running for hottest ladies in the district. And they're all training with me. Score!

When we introduce ourselves to the rest of the room, I say, "Hi, I'm Kyle from Westmount. I've been with the company for five years, took this course last year, passed it, and have now been certified by Rogers. So I'm not sure what I'm doing here."

When they get to the cute girl from the elevator, it wasn't until she said, "Hi, my name is Tannis," that I realized it was the girl who dropped her resume off. So she WAS hired. Score!

Over the course of the two days, I was hanging out with all three girls (Tannis - West Edmonton Mall, Eve - Bonnie Doon, Skyler - St. Albert) during lunch time and during the session. I didn't know how bad I had it until the review for the test came.

Guss, our trainer, unbeknownst to everyone in the room (except for me, who suspected he'd do this), was reviewing questions word for word off the test. And even though I knew it was happening, I couldn't concentrate for one reason.

I was...imagining... what...actions of a carnal nature... would be like with these three girls. And I only realized I was daydreaming for a good ten minutes when I brought myself out of the reverie and finding out I missed about 25 questions on the review.

As it was, I'm pretty sure I passed the test. And, hey, I got a very good daydream out of it. A very good daydream.

As I was joking around with Dev over MSN later that night:

Me: So I was with three beautiful girls during training today. Sooo hot.

Dev: So you do anything with them?

Me: Seven times. Twice each individually, once with all three.

Dev: Score.

Me: Now, mind you, I'm not the guy who kisses and tells here...But since there was no actual kissing, I think I'm able to tell in this case.

Dev: Sweet. Do tell.

Me: You're not buying any of this, are you?

Dev: Are you selling anything?

Me: Not half as well as Eve sold that one trick she does that...

Me: Nah, I got nothing.

* * *

Listening to: Sonic 102.9 radio. There's not many songs I don't like on this station. I can only think of one offhand, and I really with The Transplants would just die. But otherwise? I heard the freakin' SHINS today, with a song off the Garden State Soundtrack. Awesome.

Reading: Just finished Jennifer Government, by Max Barry, recently. A very good satire of a world where corporations rule, with enough tongue-in-cheekiness to keep it from getting preachy or too dark. Also, I'm really loving this blog, written by a very well-written bouncer on the New York club scene.

BANG!

This is an MIT study of weblogging. I'd invite anyone who reads this to take ten minutes out of their day and fill it out.

It's for SCIENCE!

Posts about inventory, working my ass off, wrestling, and Justice's bachelor party to follow...

The hell?

Going to D!'s to watch some SmackDown!, I pulled into the Safeway parking lot. On Sonic 102.9, they were playing this song that sounded very familiar. But it wasn't the version I was thinking of. So I'm trying to place the song by the tune (sort of) and the lyrics.

"Must be a cover of a song I know," I thought.

After a few lines (What have I become? My sweetest friend), I realized that it wasn't a cover after all, but was instead the original "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails, instead of the Johnny Cash version that I' m used to.

I don't think I've ever heard Trent Reznor sing that one before...

* * *

While shopping in the Safeway, I came across a headline in the Globe and Mail that read something along the lines of "20 Years Ago, Canada's Own 9/11."

What? We're referring to old disasters as versions of an attack that happened 17 years later?

It was talking about the Air India bomb that was placed on a plane in Vancouver, and detonated just before reaching Ireland.

So is this what I have to look forward to? I've already resigned myself to the fact that what happened on September 11th will be trivialized and watered down by everything and anything tragic that will inevitably be linked to the World Trade Center. But will I be seeing England's Guy Fawkes Day turn into "9/11, except over four hundred years prior, and nothing really happened, but otherwise, exactly the same freaking thing?"

God, sometimes I really hate the media...

Uneasy with the slightest hint of celebrity...

So Canton and I went to Pub 1905 for dinner a few nights back. (Good food, decent prices for what we thought might be a more trendy experience than, say, the Next Act, and MY GOD! The Menu! Fifty hundred hot dogs! Mixed greens with a dill vinaigrette! As Canton said, "Why haven't we ever come by here before? And this is going to be one of our new places, isn't it?")

When we sat down, the busboy came by us and said, "Hey, you guys are in Apocalypse Kow, aren't you?"

We nodded.

"Man, you guys are cool. Especially that one Green Day classical song. And that web flash Christmas cartoon you guys made..."

Canton: "What? Do you remember the link?"

BB: "I might have it around in a email somewhere. What's the problem? Copyright infringement?"

Me: "No, we just never heard about a flash cartoon that might have our music in it." (Especially since we've never really released anything that might sound better than a bootleg Fringe CD.)

As it happened, it wasn't our version of the song that has a Santa boogieing around a trio of reindeer. Must be the original college version from somewhere down in the States, since that's the group WE stole it from. (A funny story comes to mind about how we had that in our set list for a Northern Harmony a few years back. When the Heebee-jeebees sang their version of Aerosmith's "Don't Want to Miss A Thing" with a background arrangement of Pachebel's Canon a set before OUR version of Green Day's "Basket Case" with a background arrangement of Pachebel's Canon. Man, were we freaked out...)

Still, I get recognized around the city here more than some people. Mostly it happens when Canton and I hang out together, because people are more apt to recognize two of a group of five more than just a singe member.

Even at work, I've had customers ask if I'm part of Kow.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm on par with a Ryan Smith or any Edmonton celebrity. Just that I'm a bit uncomfortable when people recognize me on the street for anything other than being me.

Because that means that Kow's grown in leaps and bounds since they days we'd be a part of the Carnival of Shrinking Youth and do the occasional concert for our friends.

And I've known this ever since we've been a part of Fringe (which, for those who haven't heard, we've been accepted to again. Woo!) and our attempts at recording and the recognition factor.

Hell, the fact that we're MCing and singing at a party for competitors of the World Masters Games? Knowing someone on the board only got us so far, but I'm still coming to grips with the fact that we're not just the little group we used to be.

I'm happy that we're at the point we are, but I'm just concerned when our "celebrity" might eventually become celebrity, on a city scale, anyways...

But that's just my insecurities jumping down my throat. Seriously, the only reason I posted this was to get it out of my system.

So, in a nutshell, happy for Kow, happy for "success," freaked out at people knowing who I am.

But that's just something I'll have to get used to...

Odd Transformations 28: Musical?

So I had a dream I was cast in a musical for something or other. It might have been for Oran, but I'm pretty sure I remember my high school drama teacher in the proceedings.

We were on this stage at some high school, I guess, since there was a walkway over top of the stage. Before anything musically happened, I was sitting there and kept on getting hit by projectiles (bottles, binders) thrown by people waling above me.

In the actual musical, I was playing an Indian brave (Tommy Two-Feathers, according to one of the lines.) My chief was boxing or wrestling in the finale. I remember having my own solo song at one point (which was fun, since we only had one rehearsal before we staged it).

Also, in the ending moments, my chief was getting in the ring, when all of a sudden, his opponents grew in a green glow, going to three times my chief's size.

I look to the side, and there's the traitor of the musical, none other than Reed Richards, scientific genius of the Marvel Universe and part of the Fantastic Four. And he was being financed by evil corporation Sony, who didn't want my chief to win.

Yeah, strange dream. And it featured a lot of cameos, such as Chapman behind the sound booth, who kept trying to add his own personal embellishments to the musical that weren't needed.