The Right Question

I’ve been involved in an unfortunate dispute with a company I work for as a sales representative. As a sales rep, I make only commission on what I sell. I put in tons of time last year researching and contacting leads. It went pretty well, though I bet if I had tracked my hours last year as I do this year, the average hourly wage wouldn’t be very impressive. But it was a gig, and I was glad to have it. I was glad to have it again this year, and I was pleased to receive repeat orders from a few customers. I was excited to continue seeking out orders, if not to the extent I had the year before, but at least a few hours a week.

Last year I was paid pretty regularly. Once in awhile a check would be late, but I’d contact the people over there at this organization I’m not going to name, and they would get back to me right away. A check was mailed pretty much right after that.

I made my first sale this year in the Spring. No check came, so I emailed and called. Ooooh they were working on it. I waited. I was patient at this point. Very patient. I continued being patient as I emailed over forty times, receiving around six total emails in response, and none ever from the accountant who was supposed to be looking into it. I was told at various times that “checks were being processed” and would be mailed the “next week.” At a certain point, I was told that “checks should have already been received.” I emailed back informing them that I had not received my check, and asking them to update me as to why. I received no response.

I grew madder and madder. An okay-paying side job turned into a thorn in my side that I couldn’t ignore. Here I am, working on the promise of commission for the sales I make, and this company doesn’t have the decency to even respond to my emails, let alone pay me! I like everyone there who I have worked with, but as an organization, I grew to hate them. My acupuncturist told me that the best way to deal with difficult people was to send love and light their way. I practiced that daily, as frustrated and insulted as I was. And still no response.

I like to think of myself as a pretty shrewd business person. I predicted soap opera characters having blogs and myspace pages years before it ever happened. I read Inc Magazine from cover to cover. The idea of treating your work force with such complete and utter disregard makes me shudder. I wish I had the contact information for other sales representatives, because I honestly cannot believe that they treat us all like this. How can they expect to survive when the people who should be out there promoting their products aren’t getting paid and their inquiries are ignored? And how could they expect us (me!) to continue promoting their product and seeking out sales when I hadn’t been paid for the sales I’ve made?

Finally I listened to my attorney friends and sent a demand letter. And finally I started getting responses to my emails. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. But I noticed that they were only addressing part of the due commissions, ignoring the other part. I asked about the ignored portion, and once again, did not receive a response. I emailed again to ask for an update. But this time I tacked on, “If you are not the right person to update me, can you please provide someone who can?”

Boom. Twenty minutes later I had an email to someone I had never heard of asking them to update me. I don’t know yet if she’s going to, but I am struck by the absurdity of the situation. Perhaps if I had asked that question back in March this whole situation could have been avoided? Was it really my responsibility to ask the right question?

I definitely don’t think so. They’re in an industry with a few layers of customer service; they have people who buy their product who they should want to be happy. They also have a force of sales reps who are out there selling their products in exchange for their commission. They aren’t what you think of as typical customers, but they are buying money with their time. And they, like the customers who buy the products, are out there in the world sharing their experiences. I can’t tell you how hard it was for me not to buy www.[name of company I work for]sucks.com. Months ago I wanted to start a blog about their disregard for my work and time, but ultimately I knew it wouldn’t help me professionally or personally.

So here I am, as anonymously as possible, sharing my experiences. Hopefully the checks come in and I don’t need that looming court date. When the checks come in I will email them urging them to think of their sales reps more as customers. This time I won’t expect a response.

On Andy Warhol, Art and Business

I’ve been thinking a lot about Andy Warhol lately. He’s an artist I have a lot of respect for because he was so financially successful in his lifetime. And he got to have an awesome warehouse space filled with rad musicians and other artists.

When I win the lottery, the first thing I’m going to do is take a month-long European vacation. The next thing I’m going to do is rent a warehouse space and deck it out. I probably won’t paint it silver, but I promise, I will paint it. It will be the best few weeks ever. Then all day, every day, I will create–movies, paintings, sculpture–whatever strikes my fancy. I’ll invite other artists to share the space; rent out the film studio to artists for rock bottom prices. I’ll immediately take up neon sign making, an interest I’ve always had to forgo pursuing due to cost. Continue Reading

ONE Festival

Last Monday I checked out some friends of mine who were playing at the Oakland New & Experimental Festival.

Now, I’m a big fan of the local college radio station, Kalx, which has a weekly “Noise Hour,” devoted to experimental music. When that comes on, I always change the channel.

For whatever reason I thought that the New and Experimental in the festival title referred to the fact that it was an experimental and new event for the group that was putting it on.

I found myself submerged in experimental music–a fate I would not have chosen, but one I was truly intrigued by.

The event was hosted by Studio 1510, a cool warehouse space in West Oakland; one that further incited my passion to one day have a warehouse space. This one was particularly awesome; there was a hole in a wall for selling beverages staffed by friends of the residents.  I have a hunch they were operating out of a closet.

I caught the end of a very interesting performance by Kristin Miltner and Karen Stackpole. Their music incorporated “lush, huge dynamics ranging from chiming, piercing, scraping metallic rings to the rumbling deep bass of gongs and toms.”  Though I only caught the end, I was instantly transfixed and taken away.  These strange melodies really caught you–and your emotions–and would not let you go.

I was able to make my way into the room where the performances were taking place for the next act.  One of the fellows who lived there had created these beautiful wooden sound boards to ease the neighbors’ experience; they were truly an art piece in themselves. The room sat about twenty-five comfortably, though the forty or so people crammed into the room were not complaining.

James Fei and Tim Perkis (pictured to the left) seemed an unlikely pair.  Their one song spanned around fifteen minutes, and though I cannot say it was my cup of tea, their electronic musical stylings certainly got me thinking about how our culture defines music and how it’s changing with the constant advent of new technology, and experimental artists pushing the envelope.  I smiled to think of them practicing for long hours at a time; one with a laptop and some strange looking piano-like thing, and one with a piece of equipment that resembles the once ubiquitous telephone switchboard.

The last act I saw was a group formed and directed by my friend, Elizabeth Orr, and featuring another friend, Joey Petropoulos.  They had constructed this hauntingly beautiful set, and told me that they had lugged the dozens of phone books needed to polish the effect on their bicycles.  Each singer seemed to prefer to be absolutely anonymous; this was music that revolved around the message, not the messenger. Their frank, political lyrics seamlessly delivered coupled with electronic back beats charmed the crowd and demanded audience participation.

One of the things that is so rewarding about living in Oakland is being surrounded by so many artists challenging our notions of what traditional art and music is, and collaborating with and inspiring others. I know that I won’t be so quick to change the channel next time I stumble on Kalx’s noise hour.

to kitten or not to kitten

We stopped by the pet store yesterday and it was adoption day.  The kittens were soooo cute and we’ve been wanting to get a dog, but aren’t allowed to have a dog where we are living, and Will said, “Maybe we should get a kitten.” I’m rather suggestible so I was on board from the get go. I fondly remember the addition of Shawn to our family last summer.

But now that I’m not staring at those little feet and ears I can remember the long nights with Shawn racing around before we decided to let him outside, the house plants we’d find all over the floor, the way he still breaks the rule about jumping on counters and how Gus expressed his discontent by peeing on my bed. I wasn’t footing the bill for his neutering, and Ellen started chipping in and buying food, so I didn’t notice the economic costs, which Ellen estimates at an initial investment of $350.  But I was terrified and worried when he didn’t come home and we finally found him in neighbor Lois’ garage.  And I’m acutely aware of how much a trip to the vet costs.

I called my mom to consult, as I tend to do when just about anything comes up.  She instantly exclaimed, “You have enough cats!”

“Well….yes…. I know……but Will kind of wants one, and it would be his cat, and so…”

Instantly swayed, she agreed, “Well, Will deserves a cat.”  And it’s true.  And homeless cats deserve homes.  We have yet to decide whether a homeless kitten will join us.  A friend said, “Wait for one to jump out at you.”

My plan: feed Gus on my bed so he remembers that’s a place for eating and not peeing and get Will to as many adoption days as possible this kitten season.

(Will’s post on this subject)

Steely Dan – My Old School

I’m posting sneak peeks of the upcoming years of diary entries in the absence of any news from 12 year old me (apparently the beginning of Junior High was just too stressful and embarrassing even for the diaries).  Digging through the later years made me realize how cruel girls are, and how cruel I was.  Jealousy and hormones do horrible things to the brain; to my brain.

To which end, I came up with the following disclaimer:

“Jennifer Heller does not endorse the views expressed in these diaries and regrets the excesses of her teenage self. Further, it must be noted, as every fiber of our body is completely regenerated after seven years and we are a different person, the reader releases the current incarnation of Jennifer Heller from any liability for the views expressed in these diaries. ”

Which I will post at the beginning of each, um, regrettably mean entry.

Today this song struck me as particularly embodying the intense emotions felt during one’s tender years, and coming up, in grave detail, over the next few years.

Sneak Peek: September 9, 1996

Mon. 10:35pm

Hello. I left you on Friday. Well I went to school. Normal. I went to the dance. Sucky. Not really, but kinda. It was very uneventful. I really don’t feel like discussing the details. It was just another dance. I didn’t have fun until Nathan, Joel and Dylan left. That’s ok.

Sophomore me had been going to dances for quite a while now.  Yes, they were pretty old hat, by now, though this particular picture was taken in Spring 1997.

Saturday, I went over to Sarah’s and watched Pulp Fiction with Jenine. That was enjoyable. That night Nathan, Joel, Leah and Justine sat across the street from my house.  I wasn’t allowed to go to the mall cause I was sick, so I sat with them since Leah really needed to talk to me.  So I talked to her.  The others left after a bit under an hour and soon after so did she.

Sunday I went to the mall with Sarah for a little while.  Uneventful.

Today.  Another school day.  I’m afraid I’ve stopped allowing future me to realize how great my life now is.  Interaction between Humphrites and life under Humphrey has somewhat come to a stop in here.  I don’t really share much.  My feelings, yeah, but so much of the time at school I smile and laugh so much but I can’t write it down. Even at the mall or Great America or wherever.  All you hear is “that was fun” which must get really old after awhile.  Life is fun though.  I don’t normally not have fun. But, without the bad times, you wouldn’t appreciate the bad. But in here, do the good times get blended into everyday life?!!!

If you are confused right now, I don’t blame you.  Humphrey was the name of the TREE, yes the TREE, that we sat around to eat.  It was next to the bathrooms and really, really far away from where all the “cool kids” were sitting.  We named a tree.  Yes, we did.

Well, I have to try to stop that, if I can.  Right now, I think I’ll expand a little on Humphrey:

The Humphrites:

These are the people that are accepted as a normal part of life at Humphrey.  There really is no criteria, but there are some people who do eat there daily that are still not really Humphrites.  This is my opinion and it is open to debate by any other Humphrite or branch.  The following, I see as Humphrites:

me (of course)
Lauren
Sarah
Bob
Ivan
Nathan
Joel
Dylan
Matt
Tony (although some may not agree.  I sometimes don’t agree.)
Hillary (fading fast)
Tricia*
Brittany*
* gone, but Humphrites nonetheless

Branches:

Branches are people who either eat at Humphry sometimes, just started, or in some special cases don’t go to our school but are our friends anyway.

These may also be referred to as trees and could grow into Humphrites ate any time.  The following are Branches:

Valerie
Kirk
Ben
Leah
Greg
Justine
Melissa Mann
Jan (in a weird way)

Keep in mind, other’s lists may differ and mine may be incomplete.  Now, interaction at Humphrey is weird.  Most everybody can stand everyone else.  Oh!  These are the lunch crowd:

me
Bob
Lauren
Leah (most of the time)
Justine (most of the time)
Ivan
Kirk
Nathan
Dylan
Matt
Joel
Hillary (sometimes)
Melissa Mann (sometimes)
Tony

Back to social interaction.  Most peers would call us weird.  I don’t see it — not really.  Well, I guess we are.  We are a diverse group of people and each of us could be put into a slightly different stereotype, although none of us are stereotypical.  Except maybe Justine.  Sometimes, people get upset, fight, yell, run away, leave, hug, make out (rare), throw stuff (not rare at all), but that should be expected.

I would love to go into a personality profile of each but I don’t think I can.  I would also like to describe a typical lunch scene, but there is no typical.  Lunch varies.  Sometimes it can get monotonous, and sometimes, when lots of people are missing, lonely and depressing (at least for me – since I love to be surrounded by friends) but normally it’s exciting.  Today, for instance, I got to cut Ivan’s sweat pants into zig zag shorts.  that was fun!  A highlight of the year.  The Humphrey crowd continues out of school, especially with me.  Most of the people we all associate w/ eat at Humphrey!  I talk on the phone with 10/14 of the lunchers on a regular basis.  Which brings me out of my psycho-analysis into a description of my evening.

Yes, 10th grade me really did just wish you a nice day. So don’t tell me that it’s rude of me to myself to post these on the Internet. It’s what I wanted.  Have a nice day!

I finished my homework early so sat and goofed off.  It was a wonderful, chaotic phone night.  I had a billion people to talk to and some of the best conversations this year.  My conversation with Nathan about vampires for instance.  He says I’m weird.  He’s not the only one.  Anyway, I think I included that last part just to say that I had a really great day.  I hope you (whoever you are) did too.

See ya

Jen

Super Mario World

Will has been playing a lot of Mario lately.  Another development around is that he got a blog, agreed to a domain name and let me customize it! I’ll put a link at the bottom of the post** so that I don’t lose you quite yet.

In other news, the Guster is considering secondary education:

And has been for quite some time.  I told him that school already started and he needs to get there if he’s actually going to go (he’s been threatening it for years), but he keeps claiming mono or other such sleep-related illnesses.

But that’s neither here nor there, and this post is about Super Mario World, and its annual presence in my life. Continue Reading

FAQ: Why are you doing the Diary Project?

Well, you know, I don’t really know. Or maybe I do.

Each year I have an annual festival of my birth (Jenfest) and last year (2009), the theme was an Anti-Roast (because my boyfriend was NOT cool with having people roast me 🙂 ). I didn’t know what an Anti-Roast was or what it was going to look like. I thought that maybe people could make fun of me, but it was in a large venue and I knew most people wouldn’t participate.

One day I thought, let’s read from my journals. I don’t remember how the thought came about, but it perfectly fit the theme.  Instead of people roasting me, I was going to roast myself by allowing people to read from them and completely humiliate me! And, I knew, it would be hilarious!

I had some friends go through my journals with me to find the good parts, which we marked (I wound up photocopying them to ensure that my journals wouldn’t get stolen…it’s sad, but sometimes you just don’t trust people. They’re assholes sometimes). While we were going through them, they were reading lines aloud and laughing uproariously. It was REALLY hard to stomach. Friends laughing over my lack of boobs over the years! Over my obsession with my handwriting!  I couldn’t believe I’d thought of this, and it was too late to turn back.  But after awhile of listening to them talk about it, I really just was like, this is so real, it’s so raw. And funny. Very funny. I think ultimately the web version isn’t as funny; it’s more monotonous and slow-moving — like a soap opera.  But that’s what brings the reality, I think.  You gotta earn the good parts–ha!

But back to why; one of my missions is to bring more joy and hilarity (and beauty!) to the internet, so it was kind of a natural decision to release them. My boyfriend wasn’t too cool with it, but I convinced him that the person I was 18 years ago isn’t the me now. Rather, it’s this hilarious version of me that was boy crazy and ridiculous. I love it. He came around, though now that I write out the argument I realize that I must have been more convincing in person.

We’re only three and a half months in, and I have 13 journals total that believe they span 5th through 12th grade!  This project is kinda like a pet–a LOT of commitment. I do get some vacations; for instance, right now, I have a four month window where 6th grade Jen didn’t write at all–despite starting Middle School on Monday!

So what about you?  Will you share a diary or journal entry with the followers of the Diary Project during this four month window?  We’d love it if you would!