I promised you video of me playing piano, and here it is.
Sorry about the sound quality. First generation electronic piano, little microphone on my netbook, and fingers that haven't touched a piano in 17 years combine for a suboptimal listening experience.
And no... nobody is calling you on Skype. That is my Skype ringing while I'm playing.
Showing posts with label Personal News. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal News. Show all posts
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
For Mom
By the way, this is what I was talking about regarding the dishwasher leaving spots. Before I put the Jet Dry in, this pan came out nice and clean. After I put the Jet Dry in, this pan looks like this every time now.
Monday, May 2, 2011
My Wife Is Still Beautiful
Actually, she just keeps getting more beautiful as time goes by.
I'm lucky.
I'm lucky.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Geeked Out
I've rebuilt a smaller, humbler version of Control Center 107 (the name for my old wall of technology back in New York City). Smoke was coming off my Best Buy Credit Card today... and got some good deals in the process.
From left to right:
New Plantronics noise-cancelling earphones, $40
Matching 23" AOC monitors, $170 each
Wireless Mouse, $20
(Down below) A 2 terrabyte external hard drive from WD elements, $100.
The monitor in the center and the netbook I already had. The monitor over on the right isn't actually connected to anything... I just stuck it on there, but might use it for my old beater computer if I get a new one to replace it in the next year or so.
Monday, March 28, 2011
More Rendering
Just wanted to get these online. The new website should be up by the end of this week.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Epril's Day
My wife's day (again), as seen through a web cam.
1. Wake up with a smile, as per usual.
2. Type "Good morning honey ko!" to me on the laptop.
3. Get morning bedside visit from friends and cute babies.
4. Get up and do happy dance.
5. Eat breakfast.
6. Nap.
7. Eat lunch.
8. Watch TV.
9. Eat dinner.
10. Send text messages.
11. Miss husband.
12. Listen to husband sing her a lullaby over the internet.
13. Go to sleep.
1. Wake up with a smile, as per usual.
2. Type "Good morning honey ko!" to me on the laptop.
3. Get morning bedside visit from friends and cute babies.
4. Get up and do happy dance.
5. Eat breakfast.
6. Nap.
7. Eat lunch.
8. Watch TV.
9. Eat dinner.
10. Send text messages.
11. Miss husband.
12. Listen to husband sing her a lullaby over the internet.
13. Go to sleep.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Trial Balloon
I saw a contestant on Jeopardy the other night who worked as a virtual assistant. So...
Does anybody want to hire a virtual assistant?
Skills include superb English skills (oral, written, vocabulary, content, and grammar). Additionally can speak French, Spanish, German, Portuguese, and Thai. Types more than 130 words per minute.
Also includes master-level knowledge of:
Does anybody want to hire a virtual assistant?
Skills include superb English skills (oral, written, vocabulary, content, and grammar). Additionally can speak French, Spanish, German, Portuguese, and Thai. Types more than 130 words per minute.
Also includes master-level knowledge of:
- Microsoft Word (legal, financial, and contractual document editing and management for many major New York City law firms including Latham Watkins, White and Case, Shearman and Sterling, Proskauer Rose, and others).
- Microsoft Excel (creation of financial and accounting tables for many major New York City investment banks, including Bear Stearns, Bank of America, Warburg Pincus, Credit Suisse, and others)
- Microsoft Powerpoint (board room presentations and flip books for many major New York City investment banks including for Merrill Lynch, Blackstone Group, and others).
- Photoshop and Corel Draw (advertising and graphics for several New York City firms including Ogilvy and Mather as well as most of the investment banks listed above).
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friday, November 26, 2010
My Thanksgivings Of Yore
My formative memories of Thanksgiving are a true Rockwellian version of the holiday: My (paternal) grandparent's stately old farmhouse nestled in a small offshoot of the Hudson valley 30 miles south of Albany, surrounded by a great green lawn and maple trees still speckled with brown marcescent autumn leaves, tapped and hung with buckets for syrup. Outdoors, there were the barns, riding on the tractors (one red and one gray, which I preferred), petting the black Angus... the giant pond too cold for swimming, but good for throwing pebbles and floating handfuls of grass... the mysterious mazy hayloft... the banks of the Kinderhook River... the long empty dirt road called Kinderhook Lane leading back along the river through the forest to the town of Brainard. It's all still there of course.
Inside, the rustic den decorated by my grandfather's hunting victories was filled with the glow of football on the TV, the sound of my father and uncle talking some grown-up subject, the smell of my grandfather's cigar as he sat and played some hundred-year-old folk song on his Hammond... Joplin featured prominently. I'd sit on the floor and watch his left gray sock bounce around on the bass pedals and his right gray sock work a crescendo on the giant volume pedal.
In the kitchen, my Grandmother would march back and forth from various appliances, head down, moving with a certainty and inevitability surprising for her small size. She was always talking to somebody in the kitchen as she cooked... but her eyes were always on what she was doing. She was far too purposeful in the kitchen to actually take the time to look at people.
The house had two upstairs: One still used, the other an apartment that served as the kids' play area. There was a long-unused door behind the beds that none of us ever tried to open. There were some baby's toys there that we tried to convert to more-adult play activities. There was a little white closet with a big sunny window behind the staircase where we could spend afternoons chasing / capturing / teasing the black flies that always show up in late Autumn in upstate New York.
Everything in the house just seemed to be from a time when Pilgrims and Indians lived nearby.
All the expansion leaves were put into the already-large dining room table and an accompanying card table was set up for us kids. A giant centerpiece of fall vegetables flanked by a dozen candles was on the main table, and every place setting had a dozen eating utensils, a green napkin in a silver ring, and a big red goblet. We kids got our own 2-pronged candelabra, in the flames of which my cousin Andy would stick his fingers (and encourage the rest of us to try) in a little game of pain tolerance.
Then of course came the food: All of the dishes, right and proper, perfectly done as such memories ought to be. To this day I really think I ate more then, as a young boy, than I eat now at my adult Thanksgivings. Pumpkin and apple pies were always the finishing touch, usually eaten in the grand living room in front of the fireplace. (I loved playing with the bellows: it made a neat whistling sound as I pumped.)
After that, came the goodbyes as the cousins all bundled up, and were led out through the back door to the cars, lights on, warming up in the chill night. An early winter breeze coming through the door would make me long for my pajamas and one of the warm beds upstairs in my aunt's old bedroom... the smell of mothballs from the closet there is still fresh in my memory.
Inside, the rustic den decorated by my grandfather's hunting victories was filled with the glow of football on the TV, the sound of my father and uncle talking some grown-up subject, the smell of my grandfather's cigar as he sat and played some hundred-year-old folk song on his Hammond... Joplin featured prominently. I'd sit on the floor and watch his left gray sock bounce around on the bass pedals and his right gray sock work a crescendo on the giant volume pedal.
In the kitchen, my Grandmother would march back and forth from various appliances, head down, moving with a certainty and inevitability surprising for her small size. She was always talking to somebody in the kitchen as she cooked... but her eyes were always on what she was doing. She was far too purposeful in the kitchen to actually take the time to look at people.
The house had two upstairs: One still used, the other an apartment that served as the kids' play area. There was a long-unused door behind the beds that none of us ever tried to open. There were some baby's toys there that we tried to convert to more-adult play activities. There was a little white closet with a big sunny window behind the staircase where we could spend afternoons chasing / capturing / teasing the black flies that always show up in late Autumn in upstate New York.
Everything in the house just seemed to be from a time when Pilgrims and Indians lived nearby.
All the expansion leaves were put into the already-large dining room table and an accompanying card table was set up for us kids. A giant centerpiece of fall vegetables flanked by a dozen candles was on the main table, and every place setting had a dozen eating utensils, a green napkin in a silver ring, and a big red goblet. We kids got our own 2-pronged candelabra, in the flames of which my cousin Andy would stick his fingers (and encourage the rest of us to try) in a little game of pain tolerance.
Then of course came the food: All of the dishes, right and proper, perfectly done as such memories ought to be. To this day I really think I ate more then, as a young boy, than I eat now at my adult Thanksgivings. Pumpkin and apple pies were always the finishing touch, usually eaten in the grand living room in front of the fireplace. (I loved playing with the bellows: it made a neat whistling sound as I pumped.)
After that, came the goodbyes as the cousins all bundled up, and were led out through the back door to the cars, lights on, warming up in the chill night. An early winter breeze coming through the door would make me long for my pajamas and one of the warm beds upstairs in my aunt's old bedroom... the smell of mothballs from the closet there is still fresh in my memory.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thank You Mrs. Hoffman
I'm amazed at the process of growing older. If it didn't directly correlate to edging ever closer to my end of days, I would consider it one of the greatest aspects of life.
I don't miss much about my youthful self. Perhaps that was because I was frivolous and ignorant, and I stayed childishly pickwickian and unwise even into my 30s. I harbor no nostalgia or Proustian melancholy about the person I was.
I am especially happy to be rid of the educationally apathetic mind that I possessed all those years ago.
Indeed: What is best about growing older for me is that knowledge and intellectual excellence are becoming the most important things, and this is a fact I take much joy in. Understanding ideas, learning new subjects, expanding my horizons, gaining philosophical and epistemological insights, and better expressing myself are to me the true hallmarks of age.
It is with that nisus in mind that I contacted my former high school English teacher, Mrs. Mary Hoffman, and asked her to help me fine tune my writing into a high-speed, grammatically turbo-charged, chirographic communication hot rod. I sent her samples of my writing from this blog, and she responded with very time-consuming, very detailed, and very helpful hints regarding mistakes or shortcomings in my English technic (and also thanks for that one, Mary).
As I mentioned to Mrs. Hoffman, the saying is that "youth is wasted on the young," and I adduced that education, too, was a luxury wasted on the young. I would like to thank Mrs. Hoffman for this rare and valuable second seating in her classroom. I doubt any of you, regardless of your zest for learning, would dispute that what I am receiving is a wonderful gift from a truly dedicated educator.
Again Mrs. Hoffman: I sincerely thank you.
I don't miss much about my youthful self. Perhaps that was because I was frivolous and ignorant, and I stayed childishly pickwickian and unwise even into my 30s. I harbor no nostalgia or Proustian melancholy about the person I was.
I am especially happy to be rid of the educationally apathetic mind that I possessed all those years ago.
Indeed: What is best about growing older for me is that knowledge and intellectual excellence are becoming the most important things, and this is a fact I take much joy in. Understanding ideas, learning new subjects, expanding my horizons, gaining philosophical and epistemological insights, and better expressing myself are to me the true hallmarks of age.
It is with that nisus in mind that I contacted my former high school English teacher, Mrs. Mary Hoffman, and asked her to help me fine tune my writing into a high-speed, grammatically turbo-charged, chirographic communication hot rod. I sent her samples of my writing from this blog, and she responded with very time-consuming, very detailed, and very helpful hints regarding mistakes or shortcomings in my English technic (and also thanks for that one, Mary).
As I mentioned to Mrs. Hoffman, the saying is that "youth is wasted on the young," and I adduced that education, too, was a luxury wasted on the young. I would like to thank Mrs. Hoffman for this rare and valuable second seating in her classroom. I doubt any of you, regardless of your zest for learning, would dispute that what I am receiving is a wonderful gift from a truly dedicated educator.
Again Mrs. Hoffman: I sincerely thank you.
Jil's Party Over Party
Everyone is invited to attend my "Party Over" party at Twin Hearts Pool Resort here in Jasaan at 11:00 a.m. this coming Friday.
See you there. Bring food if you want, and beer will be sold at the concession stand.
See you there. Bring food if you want, and beer will be sold at the concession stand.
A Brief Explanation
A lot of people are wondering what happened to cause this "sudden" shift in my employment situation, and are also wondering whether or not my writing on the internet had anything to do with it... whether there was some animosity on the part of my company in all of this.
What happened was this: My company has half of its operations in India, and half in the United States. My company originally asked its client hospitals whether or not it would be okay to send their records overseas to be worked on. Some of them said yes... and their records are now sent to India. Some of them said no... and their records remain in America.
As an American living outside of America, I posed a conundrum to my company: Could they allow me to work on the records of hospitals who had (now) specifically stated that they wanted their records to remain in America? "No" is what they eventually decided, and created a new policy stating that American employees must be working in America. It's not an unfair decision: I'm just one person and I could be jeopardizing million-dollar contracts just by dint of my work location.
My company did offer me an option that would have allowed me to continue working in The Philippines: They offered to change me over to the status of an overseas worker to work on the Indian accounts. Unfortunately this meant also getting paid an overseas (Indian) salary. I didn't ask precisely how much that would be before turning it down, but obviously it would have been a fraction of what I am currently earning. Since what I am currently earning is already a fraction of what I was originally earning a few years ago... there was no sense in cutting a fraction into a further fraction.
So, did my blog have anything to do with this? No. Does my company even know about my blog? I don't think so. "Jil Wrinkle" is a moniker that does not appear on my passport, paychecks, or work e-mails. But, if people at my company were interested enough, and actually looked on the internet to see if there was any American doing medical transcription in The Philippines and writing about the experience, they would easily put two and two together.
And that doesn't worry me: The simple fact is that everything that I say about my job (and to some extent, my life) here on the blog I also freely mention to my coworkers and supervisors — at least those supervisors and coworkers with whom I have a long working relationship and with whom I get along well. So, there is nothing that I write here (both positive and negative) that I have not mentioned, do not mention, or would not mention to anybody at my company who asked. And: Those things that I would not say to people at my company... they are not written about here either.
My company has generally been very cool and we've had a good relationship. The dramatic drop in pay that I have seen over the last couple of years was industry wide, and is not my company's fault. My move to Asia, when I did it 8 years ago, was not something that my company knew about when I did it, and I know for a fact that they would have said no if I had asked permission. Yet, overall they accommodated my location and provided me a lucrative overnight slot to work in so that I could work days in Asia. They shipped materials and parts to Asia instead of my home in New York, saving me the cost of forwarding them. They allowed me to skip company calls because of the cost of dialing in. When the questions mentioned above first cropped up a year ago, there were people who stood up for me and vouched for me.
The only way in which my company let me down was the suddenness of this decision: I was warned that it was a possibility on a Monday evening, and then told to pack my bags on a Friday morning. I actually had to ask for a week more work before leaving (although they did offer me 3 weeks — one paid, two not paid — to make the move, but I only took one week). I honestly expected that when this decision came around, that I would have a month or more to get ready to make the move.
Anyway, I hope this clears things up.
What happened was this: My company has half of its operations in India, and half in the United States. My company originally asked its client hospitals whether or not it would be okay to send their records overseas to be worked on. Some of them said yes... and their records are now sent to India. Some of them said no... and their records remain in America.
As an American living outside of America, I posed a conundrum to my company: Could they allow me to work on the records of hospitals who had (now) specifically stated that they wanted their records to remain in America? "No" is what they eventually decided, and created a new policy stating that American employees must be working in America. It's not an unfair decision: I'm just one person and I could be jeopardizing million-dollar contracts just by dint of my work location.
My company did offer me an option that would have allowed me to continue working in The Philippines: They offered to change me over to the status of an overseas worker to work on the Indian accounts. Unfortunately this meant also getting paid an overseas (Indian) salary. I didn't ask precisely how much that would be before turning it down, but obviously it would have been a fraction of what I am currently earning. Since what I am currently earning is already a fraction of what I was originally earning a few years ago... there was no sense in cutting a fraction into a further fraction.
So, did my blog have anything to do with this? No. Does my company even know about my blog? I don't think so. "Jil Wrinkle" is a moniker that does not appear on my passport, paychecks, or work e-mails. But, if people at my company were interested enough, and actually looked on the internet to see if there was any American doing medical transcription in The Philippines and writing about the experience, they would easily put two and two together.
And that doesn't worry me: The simple fact is that everything that I say about my job (and to some extent, my life) here on the blog I also freely mention to my coworkers and supervisors — at least those supervisors and coworkers with whom I have a long working relationship and with whom I get along well. So, there is nothing that I write here (both positive and negative) that I have not mentioned, do not mention, or would not mention to anybody at my company who asked. And: Those things that I would not say to people at my company... they are not written about here either.
My company has generally been very cool and we've had a good relationship. The dramatic drop in pay that I have seen over the last couple of years was industry wide, and is not my company's fault. My move to Asia, when I did it 8 years ago, was not something that my company knew about when I did it, and I know for a fact that they would have said no if I had asked permission. Yet, overall they accommodated my location and provided me a lucrative overnight slot to work in so that I could work days in Asia. They shipped materials and parts to Asia instead of my home in New York, saving me the cost of forwarding them. They allowed me to skip company calls because of the cost of dialing in. When the questions mentioned above first cropped up a year ago, there were people who stood up for me and vouched for me.
The only way in which my company let me down was the suddenness of this decision: I was warned that it was a possibility on a Monday evening, and then told to pack my bags on a Friday morning. I actually had to ask for a week more work before leaving (although they did offer me 3 weeks — one paid, two not paid — to make the move, but I only took one week). I honestly expected that when this decision came around, that I would have a month or more to get ready to make the move.
Anyway, I hope this clears things up.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
My Wife Is Beautiful
She's also one of the friendliest, most gentle, humble people I've ever known. She cares for me and loves me as much as my mother does. She makes me smile and laugh as much as any friend I've ever had. She's passionate and alluring and has made all of my dreams and fantasies come true.
I'm the luckiest guy I know when it comes to finding the perfect wife.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Crazy Thought
I was just sitting and thinking, and I thought of the perfect job (in a bizarre, not-really, but wouldn't-it-be-cool way): Truck driver. (Back in the U.S. that is.) The pay ranges from okay to pretty damn good. But, more importantly, driving is one of my favorite things, and Epril could come along and we could watch America go by as we went on down the highway.
I'll have to look up the various Commercial Drivers License requirements, and see what a truck driving job really is about, and then once I have all the answers, talk myself out of the whole ridiculous idea. (I went through a similar process about 9 years ago when I had this crazy idea of becoming a medical transcriptionist and moving to Asia. Heheh.)
By the way, it really was about 9 years ago to this day when I was sitting at home, on a 1-month vacation from Merrill Lynch due to my office being cut off from the rest of the island of Manhattan by the World Trade Center ruin, when I saw this commercial and had that crazy idea:
My first thought was: How can I go there? My second thought was: How can I stay there? I started wandering the internet looking for answers and the rest, as they say, is history. This little commercial probably changed my life more than any single other thing to date.
I'll have to look up the various Commercial Drivers License requirements, and see what a truck driving job really is about, and then once I have all the answers, talk myself out of the whole ridiculous idea. (I went through a similar process about 9 years ago when I had this crazy idea of becoming a medical transcriptionist and moving to Asia. Heheh.)
By the way, it really was about 9 years ago to this day when I was sitting at home, on a 1-month vacation from Merrill Lynch due to my office being cut off from the rest of the island of Manhattan by the World Trade Center ruin, when I saw this commercial and had that crazy idea:
My first thought was: How can I go there? My second thought was: How can I stay there? I started wandering the internet looking for answers and the rest, as they say, is history. This little commercial probably changed my life more than any single other thing to date.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Congratulations Nancy, Dan. Welcome Yvonne
Let's all welcome my niece, Yvonne (Evie) Lois Molden to the world. (She looks just like her big brother if you ask me!) Congratulations to Nancy and Dan on their second child.
I'm told Nancy and Evie were in and out of the hospital so fast, that Nancy's cup of coffee was still warm when she got back home.
I'm told Nancy and Evie were in and out of the hospital so fast, that Nancy's cup of coffee was still warm when she got back home.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Random Thought
I'm beginning to realize that Filipinos can be divided into two categories: Those whose think too little of themselves, and those who think too much of themselves.
Fortunately, there are far more of the former and they can be encouraged, and you can see the latter coming from a mile away and they can be avoided.
Fortunately, there are far more of the former and they can be encouraged, and you can see the latter coming from a mile away and they can be avoided.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Sad
My mother-in-law's mother, Epril's grandmother, passed away last night in Leyte. The family is getting ready to catch the ferry to Cebu tonight, so I'll be on my own for a couple of days with the youngsters to hold down the fort.
It's difficult to go anywhere "rural" in The Philippines at a moment's notice. I offered to fly everyone on the next flight today from Cagayan De Oro to Cebu, but apparently the last ferry to Leyte leaves there at 2 p.m., and they wouldn't get there in time to catch it. They'll be catching the 8 p.m. ferry from CDO, and then catching the 6 a.m. ferry at Cebu to Ormoc, Leyte. Then, it's a 5-hour road trip from there to where the funeral will be.
Older Sister Susan is already in Cebu with Jans, so she'll be meeting up with the family there.
My condolences are with my mother-in-law. She's very upset, as is the rest of the family.
It's difficult to go anywhere "rural" in The Philippines at a moment's notice. I offered to fly everyone on the next flight today from Cagayan De Oro to Cebu, but apparently the last ferry to Leyte leaves there at 2 p.m., and they wouldn't get there in time to catch it. They'll be catching the 8 p.m. ferry from CDO, and then catching the 6 a.m. ferry at Cebu to Ormoc, Leyte. Then, it's a 5-hour road trip from there to where the funeral will be.
Older Sister Susan is already in Cebu with Jans, so she'll be meeting up with the family there.
My condolences are with my mother-in-law. She's very upset, as is the rest of the family.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Bruce and Andy
I am beginning to suspect that my wife doesn't like it when I shave off my beard. When I have my beard (especially the stubbly-not-bushy type), she tells me I look remarkably like Bruce Willis.
But today, after I shaved off my beard, she told me I look like Andy from Little Britain.Well, I suppose I can take a hint, Sunshine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
