Hello, recruiter

To skip or not to skip; that is the question. Well, the professor is away right now during break: good chance, skip. I pack my stuff, get my coat, hurry to the aisle, walk down. The door is in sight. I just have to turn the corner. BAM! The professor walks in and I almost ran over him. Maybe he didn't see my face... smooth, Lam, very smooth. Oh well. I don't care, I just finished your midterm. Skip.

You know, I've always wanted to recount some of the horror school/interview stories in my blog (here's some irony for you: Blogger's spell check doesn't recognize 'blog'! Oh, and 'Blogger' too apparently!). Then again, since I did put my website on my resume and on my signature on every email, there were certain things I probably shouldn't be talking about. Afterall, the recruiters do control parts of my future.

Anyway, to hell with it.

Thursday: I'm really glad that I'm taking only three classes this semester. By luck, I also didn't bid enough points for a very popular Investments class; instead, I'm stuck with a Competitive Strategy class, which I am studying for a midterm on this faithful Thursday. To make the long story short, I focused on the wrong material and became a bullshit artist three-quarters into the exam. Good times. I do miss undergraduate sometimes, when bullshit worked like a charm.

Skipped class to go to a sell party hosted by a consulting firm in downtown, set at a bowling alley. Let's see, between beer, tequila shots, and bowling one of my worse games in life, I did feel pretty good. The people were definitely hard core. Don't know if they work hard, but they certainly play hard! Met a really really old acquaintence from Boston; he will be joining the consulting firm full time. Anyway, here's the highlight of the night:

It's 11:00 and time to go home. So I grab my stuff, say goodbye to the people I've met, and head to the shuttle bus. It started to snow outside, and it was very slippery. Or maybe it was very tequila. Either way, I somehow made it back onto the bus. Phew... long night, I thought, and looked down to avoid eye contact. WAIT A MINUTE: THESE ARE BOWLING SHOES. And of course going back into the party, making a fool out of myself, finding my original pair of shoes, and contemplating on whether I should take the bowling shoes with me as well. Everybody was on the floor when they saw me coming back. "Here's proof that you are one of us," says one. I think that's a good sign.

Friday: 8 to 11, you said you will be here, RCN. I'm skipping on a sell party just to wait for you. No show. I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS. I mean, I just carved out 3 hours of a very important day to sit at home and wait for someone to come. And you don't even show up!

Dinner at RIVA. Overrated. The Filet Mignon Tuna Steak was good, but far from greatness. The dessert, shall I say, was very disappointing. Assorted pastries!? What are we? Europeans?

9:45 - wow, I think I just fainted. I got an offer from another consulting job. I have options now! Good times.