Busy weekend was busy!
Jan. 27th, 2009 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_idThe Minister's cat is a busy cat.
So, this weekend. It was busy, with very important things. Friday morning, I headed down to Seattle, with Dad driving along in his own car (In case mine broke down. Our paranoia amplifies off each other to incredible levels, people). Stopped for breakfast, stopped for lunch, and still got to the Naval Reserve more than an hour early. Inside was a table with a Washington State Ferries poster, but no one waiting, so we went over and wandered about the Center for Wooden Boats. (I really don't need a coracle as a tender, no matter how easy they look to make.)
I kept checking back in, and eventually, people began to appear. As adults, we all fail at queueing up, and so we waited in a cloud around the table, until a quarter to one. Then a pair of women came out and told us where to go, had us sign in, and sent us off to a room to wait. There ended up being about 40-50 people in there, and conversation centered around the Alaska Viaduct, so I assume they were mostly Seattlites. The man sitting next to me had been in construction, but dwindling economy has him looking for a more reliable job, a job like the ferries. I was the youngest person there by a decade, at least.
One o'clock struck, and they brought us up to a wide, sunlit classroom, the Officer's Club upstairs. We filed into a dozen rows of tables, very reminiscent of school. At the front of the room was Gary Kuminsky, head of the Deck Human Resources department. They showed us a cute video about the job, a bunch of clips of relatively attractive people doing my parents' jobs, and then we got down to business.
The job we were there for was that of Cabin Attendant, a sort of melange of janitor, tour guide, and security guard. The pay's good, or it looks good to an unemployed lay-about like me, but there's a union, with dues and a hefty initiation fee. And a pile of expensive certification that I have to wrangle myself. Also, I'll have to pass a pre-employment physical. The drug test part won't be a problem at all, but there's a vision test. Still, my mom passed all of this, I will too.
If I'm hired, I'll be assigned a Home Port, and required to accept every call to within 35 miles of that. Turning down more than two applicable jobs in a season, especially in the summer, could result in 'disciplinary action.'
For the first year, it's called a non-permanent position. Not part-time, because it won't be. In all likeliness, I'll be working overtime every single week from June to September, both on-call and in a Temporary Permanent position. I've seen both my parents go through this, especially Mom. Officially, the plan is to lay-off everyone they hire this year at the end of September, with a guarantee of re-hire come March. In practice, they don't usually get to lay-off anyone. They kept Mom on, though she was getting so few hours through the Winter that she qualified for unemployment almost every week. And come the following March, you're a permanent hire, so all's well after that.
After the info-dump, they gave us an insultingly easy reading test. I was the first to finish it by... a rather embarrassing margin. Then we made appointments for a more meaningful interview. Mine is on February 19th. Sorry it's while you're here, Sky, but I wanted the earliest day I could snag, before the interviewers get sick of us. So. Interview, then physical, then, if I'm lucky and awesome enough, I'll be invited to training.
I'm reassured by how many people at the info-meeting seemed very dissatisfied with the way things are done with the ferries. A whole phalanx of out-of-luck fishermen seemed very offended that their small-tonnage captains' licenses meant nothing to the ferries, and a woman in a molding quilted jacket got extremely shrill about the requirement to have your own car. ("But I only live a 35-minute walk from the Edmonds dock!" Look, lady, you're not only going to get called to your one dock of choice. I expect to get called to docks 2 hours away, and I'll take those assignments gladly.) So hopefully those people will leave, and my 1/10 odds will get better before they even start the real interview process.
Once it was over, I found Dad, once more wandering among the wooden boats, having fallen in love with a little day-sailer that was moored there for sale. We went up to West Marine, to drool over chart books and rain gear, but all we bought were magazines, and then out for second lunch. We burnt the day in Barnes and Noble before going to our next great event.
Dad found the Puget Sound Cruising Club last month, and we decided to check them out. A bunch of salty old sailors, most of them the kind who sail all year, and a few younger couples, but again, I'm the youngest by a decade. I got some good advice, though. Need to look up The Self-Contained Navigator, by John Letcher or something like that, and some HO-211 charts for the sextant. Next month, there'll be someone lecturing on Qayaq sailing in the Galapagos, and as that's on my plan for The Cruise, I'll definitely be going back. They also have raft-ups regularly, so I'll keep an eye on their site for those.
After all this excitement, Dad and I split up. He headed North away home, and I headed South, to find Barb's. Going by my GPS instead of her directions, I had some fun going in circles around various parts of Seattle, but I eventually found her place. Seattle is really steep. San Francisco has nothing on Seattle, guys, seriously. The house she lives in could easily have another entire daylight basement under hers, the slope is so steep. She calls it great exercise.
Jen was there too, so it was a gamer reunion / slumber party. Barb spoiled us both rotten with cookies, candy, and hamsters, and we played Risk: Godstorm! until one in the morning. (Next time, Barb. I shall have my revenge.) And then we slept like the dead.
Come morning, Barb continued her hostess victory streak by making us breakfast. The bacon was perfect, btw. And then there was shopping, and then traffic. I've expanded the use of my obscene vocabulary now, thank you.
Congratulations, Karl and Kaitlyn. I've known this wedding was coming since I met Karl in that Creative Nonfiction class, more than two years ago now. You looked so perfect together on Saturday, in a timeless knight and princess way. Here's to your happy-ever-after.
Six months, no, a year of planning resulted in a beautiful wedding. (I never did figure out why that church chimed such familiarity in me) The reception was a great party, especially over at the geek table. I cried, a little, and took pictures, and if the number of smiles I saw there has any relation to how happy the married couple will be... You two are looking forward to an incredible life together. I love you both.
And then it was all over, and now I have weeks to wait before anything in my life feels important again. And that's just wonderful.
So, this weekend. It was busy, with very important things. Friday morning, I headed down to Seattle, with Dad driving along in his own car (In case mine broke down. Our paranoia amplifies off each other to incredible levels, people). Stopped for breakfast, stopped for lunch, and still got to the Naval Reserve more than an hour early. Inside was a table with a Washington State Ferries poster, but no one waiting, so we went over and wandered about the Center for Wooden Boats. (I really don't need a coracle as a tender, no matter how easy they look to make.)
I kept checking back in, and eventually, people began to appear. As adults, we all fail at queueing up, and so we waited in a cloud around the table, until a quarter to one. Then a pair of women came out and told us where to go, had us sign in, and sent us off to a room to wait. There ended up being about 40-50 people in there, and conversation centered around the Alaska Viaduct, so I assume they were mostly Seattlites. The man sitting next to me had been in construction, but dwindling economy has him looking for a more reliable job, a job like the ferries. I was the youngest person there by a decade, at least.
One o'clock struck, and they brought us up to a wide, sunlit classroom, the Officer's Club upstairs. We filed into a dozen rows of tables, very reminiscent of school. At the front of the room was Gary Kuminsky, head of the Deck Human Resources department. They showed us a cute video about the job, a bunch of clips of relatively attractive people doing my parents' jobs, and then we got down to business.
The job we were there for was that of Cabin Attendant, a sort of melange of janitor, tour guide, and security guard. The pay's good, or it looks good to an unemployed lay-about like me, but there's a union, with dues and a hefty initiation fee. And a pile of expensive certification that I have to wrangle myself. Also, I'll have to pass a pre-employment physical. The drug test part won't be a problem at all, but there's a vision test. Still, my mom passed all of this, I will too.
If I'm hired, I'll be assigned a Home Port, and required to accept every call to within 35 miles of that. Turning down more than two applicable jobs in a season, especially in the summer, could result in 'disciplinary action.'
For the first year, it's called a non-permanent position. Not part-time, because it won't be. In all likeliness, I'll be working overtime every single week from June to September, both on-call and in a Temporary Permanent position. I've seen both my parents go through this, especially Mom. Officially, the plan is to lay-off everyone they hire this year at the end of September, with a guarantee of re-hire come March. In practice, they don't usually get to lay-off anyone. They kept Mom on, though she was getting so few hours through the Winter that she qualified for unemployment almost every week. And come the following March, you're a permanent hire, so all's well after that.
After the info-dump, they gave us an insultingly easy reading test. I was the first to finish it by... a rather embarrassing margin. Then we made appointments for a more meaningful interview. Mine is on February 19th. Sorry it's while you're here, Sky, but I wanted the earliest day I could snag, before the interviewers get sick of us. So. Interview, then physical, then, if I'm lucky and awesome enough, I'll be invited to training.
I'm reassured by how many people at the info-meeting seemed very dissatisfied with the way things are done with the ferries. A whole phalanx of out-of-luck fishermen seemed very offended that their small-tonnage captains' licenses meant nothing to the ferries, and a woman in a molding quilted jacket got extremely shrill about the requirement to have your own car. ("But I only live a 35-minute walk from the Edmonds dock!" Look, lady, you're not only going to get called to your one dock of choice. I expect to get called to docks 2 hours away, and I'll take those assignments gladly.) So hopefully those people will leave, and my 1/10 odds will get better before they even start the real interview process.
Once it was over, I found Dad, once more wandering among the wooden boats, having fallen in love with a little day-sailer that was moored there for sale. We went up to West Marine, to drool over chart books and rain gear, but all we bought were magazines, and then out for second lunch. We burnt the day in Barnes and Noble before going to our next great event.
Dad found the Puget Sound Cruising Club last month, and we decided to check them out. A bunch of salty old sailors, most of them the kind who sail all year, and a few younger couples, but again, I'm the youngest by a decade. I got some good advice, though. Need to look up The Self-Contained Navigator, by John Letcher or something like that, and some HO-211 charts for the sextant. Next month, there'll be someone lecturing on Qayaq sailing in the Galapagos, and as that's on my plan for The Cruise, I'll definitely be going back. They also have raft-ups regularly, so I'll keep an eye on their site for those.
After all this excitement, Dad and I split up. He headed North away home, and I headed South, to find Barb's. Going by my GPS instead of her directions, I had some fun going in circles around various parts of Seattle, but I eventually found her place. Seattle is really steep. San Francisco has nothing on Seattle, guys, seriously. The house she lives in could easily have another entire daylight basement under hers, the slope is so steep. She calls it great exercise.
Jen was there too, so it was a gamer reunion / slumber party. Barb spoiled us both rotten with cookies, candy, and hamsters, and we played Risk: Godstorm! until one in the morning. (Next time, Barb. I shall have my revenge.) And then we slept like the dead.
Come morning, Barb continued her hostess victory streak by making us breakfast. The bacon was perfect, btw. And then there was shopping, and then traffic. I've expanded the use of my obscene vocabulary now, thank you.
Congratulations, Karl and Kaitlyn. I've known this wedding was coming since I met Karl in that Creative Nonfiction class, more than two years ago now. You looked so perfect together on Saturday, in a timeless knight and princess way. Here's to your happy-ever-after.
Six months, no, a year of planning resulted in a beautiful wedding. (I never did figure out why that church chimed such familiarity in me) The reception was a great party, especially over at the geek table. I cried, a little, and took pictures, and if the number of smiles I saw there has any relation to how happy the married couple will be... You two are looking forward to an incredible life together. I love you both.
And then it was all over, and now I have weeks to wait before anything in my life feels important again. And that's just wonderful.
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Date: 2009-01-28 01:53 am (UTC)