Michael Moiseyev's Journal|
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|Friday, June 25th, 2010|
|Not trapped in England, nor am I a Nigerian prince.
I'm sure it doesn't come as much of a surprise, but my gmail account got hacked this morning. The request for money that everyone on my contact list received yields thousands of google hits word for word, so at least this looks like a common scam, as opposed to one tailored to me specifically (looking at you, lordm). I've been answering phone calls from people I haven't talked to in years all morning. So yes, thank you for your concern, but save your money for a worthy cause. Don't send it to lordm either.
|Wednesday, October 4th, 2006|
I've got a scalene triangle on my shoulders,
And my friend is carrying a trapezoid.
I've gotta stem the tide 'till it washes over,
And build back the castle walls that time destroyed.
When the nights were longer and our legs were stronger,
I remember singing 'till our our voice grew thin.
I remember laughing, I remember dreaming,
And what I've forgotten, you can well fill in.
Edit: see if you can keep it 12-11.
|Friday, September 22nd, 2006|
All in all, my first month here has been pretty easy. Wouldn't be the first time I've said that, of course. School is interesting. I haven't read this much in a while. My classes are:
Intro to Public Affairs
Economics & Public Policy
Research Methods & Analysis
Budgeting & Financial Analysis
I also work part time as a research assistant with the survey unit. This past week, it's been more interesting that I expected it to be. I'm looking for response trends in a failed survey, so that my boss can put together a report on why hardly anyone completed this thing. Not surprisingly, emails to gmail users are an order of magnitude more likely to be answered than emails to aol users.
I promised quite a few people back in Pittsburgh that I'd do something useful out here. Right now, the goal is to get a policy analyst job with NYC's office of labor relations. I'd really like to eventually work for the US department of labor, but I'm not getting ahead of myself this time. I'd be quite happy to finish the degree, get a permanent job and pay off my college loans.
Hopefully my posts will be more frequent and funny in the future. I pretty much drained myself for the rest of the day with one attempt at a dead elephant joke. Seriously kids, if you're ever not feeling right about getting married, don't tell yourself that you can always get divorced later. It doesn't seem to ever stop sucking.
|Monday, July 17th, 2006|
I'm finishing up my year in Pittsburgh fairly soon. Work is still exhausting and infuriating, but I've found a good measure of success. Knowing that I'm leaving soon makes it easier to burn out and enjoy it. I'm going to CUNY - Baruch College for a Masters in Public Administration. My parents found me a cheap place in the Bronx through some family friend. The current plan after I finish school is to intern in NYC, then work as a congressional staffer for a while (or anything in legislative analysis that I can find in DC), then peace corps.
I don't feel guilty about Yuliya. I feel guilty about getting paid more than my coworkers, so I spend the extra money on food and supplies for the crew. I feel guilty about not calling my grandmother enough, so when I do call her I apologize and stay on the phone for a couple of hours. This situation is past something I can feel guilty, or angry or sad about. I just feel numb. It permeates everything I do, every single day. Letting go means watching a part of yourself slowly die. I honestly don't know if it'll actually get better. In case it does, I keep on truckin'.
|Wednesday, March 1st, 2006|
I'm still working at the canvassing place. They've made me a field manager, apparently by virtue of the fact that I can pull the 11 hour days without a visible nervous breakdown. I like the political organizing, playing with maps and taking out crews. I hate the bullshit. The organization is run by professional fundraisers (mercifully our office isn't doing any of that yet), and the mentality they bring is cut-throat and inhumane. And useless to the task at hand, but it's the only way they know how to do it. So half the office lingers on the verge of being fired over failing to come up with membershipo recruitment quota. Which would be cute if this were a part time gig through college, but most of my coworkers are grown men and women who have dedicated their lives to fighting progressive causes. And need to make rent next month. I don't know what bothers me more, humiliating myself in front of strangers to push my numbers high enough to bail people out, or getting so tired that I just stop caring.
Other than that, things are on track if I wish them to be. Presumably more to come.
|Sunday, December 25th, 2005|
|You're not the boss of me
The phrase is tired and overused, especially by my sister, but said with the right indignant flare it still has its charm. Also, she is old enough to make her own decisions and is not to be told what to do. Hence opening her presents by herself in a dark living room at 3:30 in the morning falls into the category of personal life choices that I may not trample upon. I like to think that my ensuing lecture taught her the meaning of respect and family appreciation, but realistically I am at best fostering in her the skills of appeasement towards a larger foe. Ah well, useful non the less.
In other news, life goes on whether or not I want it to.
|Sunday, December 11th, 2005|
I live in Shadyside nowdays. I work for a political activism group called Working America, an affiliate of the AFL-CIO. The job is hard and takes up all of my time, but most of the people at work are cool and I'm getting back into the swing of local politics. If I get a promotion, I'm sticking with this type of work for at least another year. If I don't, I'm going back to school for an MS in maybe PoliSci, Public Policy, Law, or Foreign Affairs. Next semester, I'm intending to generally be around more.
Tommorow is going to suck.
And Bill, for the love of god, put lordm to rest.
|Wednesday, September 28th, 2005|
|I was so young and vestal then
It looks like I'll be coming down to Pittsburgh again this weekend. Most people I know there are on LJ. So it would make sense to make some sort of a public LJ post to simplify things. Except that I don't quite know where to start.
Well, I moved back in with my parents about a month ago. Also, before I offend anyone, I may be somewhat hostile to the suggestion that I should feel better. I'm as fine as I care to be. Hugs really ought to be reserved for people who've had less say over the situation. That about sums up everything I don't wish to discuss at length with all but a handful of people who are highly familiar with the details.
Wow, that whole post was... cold. Comfortably so, seeing as how I hate you all. Vote Moiseyev. Current Mood: Temporary Sanity
|Thursday, January 27th, 2005|
|Monday, December 27th, 2004|
My weary feet have brought me back to the hills of Pittsburgh. I appear to have a scant few phone numbers, and with the added handicap of most people having left for break, I am having some difficulty tracking down anyone ripe for the chilling with. So as terrible of an idea as this will probably turn out to be, if you're reading this, you are probably good enough to have this: 412-952-6217. Find me, if such is your prerogative.
|Sunday, December 12th, 2004|
Last night, I spent several hours letting a flirty conversation with a girl I might like degenerate into wrestling on the floor until her roommates kicked us out. We ended up at my place, carrying on until we stopped and kissed for the first time. It was around 2 AM. Not much more happened, but we decided to fall asleep together. This morning, I woke up next to a girl I definitely like. At least it feels like it was this morning.
Happy anniversary, girl. Stop pouring water on me.
|Saturday, December 4th, 2004|
|It's a small, violent world
At a random party in west philly tonight, I ran into two people I knew from before college. One was an artsy kid that I vaguely remember from 6th and 7th grade, before I had a complete grasp on the English language or my surroundings. The other was actually a pretty good friend in 11th grade, and my other high school friends had made several prior failed attempts to find him. Apparently, I sound and act just like I did 6 years ago, but with significantly more height, beard, and wife than before.
I wore my big blue hat. On my way back home, a cab stopped next to me. A guy came out, and asked me why I gotta wear that hat. Another stayed in the cab, laughing. I replied that many of us wear hats. He repeated his query. While I searched for words, I saw him move strangely out of the corner of my eye (I was looking up and away as usual). Then everything jerked, I felt my lenses pop out of my eyeglass frame, and the left side of my face got very warm. "Jesus dude, what the fuck?" was all I managed to get out while I made a grab for a falling lens and the guy ran back into his cab. By the time I looked up, he was slamming the door behind him and yelling at the cabby to go. I was flattered, but then again I did have my wizard staff (random stick I found yesterday) with me.
My cheek is a bit swollen and purplish, and my lip appears to have a knuckle-shaped tear in it. No one is going to believe that it wasn't Yuliya. But I am in an overall good mood, just another proud member of this small, violent world.
|Monday, November 22nd, 2004|
|6 months served
The conditions are harsh but bearable. I grow accustomed to the strange, brutal rules. Feeding and sleeping privileges are not denied when the rules are not infracted upon. The forced labor, varying day to day from taking care of dirty dishes and spills I do not recall creating to venturing into the cold November morning on a quest for Baked Lays & a Diet Coke, has grown so familiarly routine as to almost become comfortable. Only the occasional rapes still break my spirit, but if the merciful pattern holds, they will continue growing fewer and farther in between. If I can keep up the good behavior, I may be up for parole in a decade or two. If not, I am non-the-less comforted by the sweet, soothing inevitability of death. Since this option only requires an ax and an alibi, I am already half way there.
Love and regards to everyone on the outside,
~Yuliya's better half
|Monday, November 15th, 2004|
I was browsing through my okcupid friends network when I found Atlas Shrugged on Ken Hamm's book list. While I briefly wondered whether he might be a full blown objectivist, I got hit with a wave of disgust. The reason has nothing to do with Ken and little with Ayn Rand herself. The concepts of rational self-interest, moral dominance and a deterministic scale of human worth simply overlayed themselves in my mind with 3 days of news reports out of Falluja.
I am a little unnerved by my reaction. I used to know a handful of objectivists, along with at least a couple of dozen people that had at some point enjoyed Atlas Shrugged. I genuinely liked many of the former and most of the latter, and found the rest at the very least amusing. And yet now, before I stopped to think (and realize that for what it's worth, Ken is very unlikely to actually be an objectivist), I was for a moment frozen in fear with the idea that someone I like subscribes to an ideology that gave birth to the intellectual cornerstones of the neoconservative movement.
Not that long ago, I looked on the 2004 election as a win-win. Either I would get a government that represented my wishes better, or I would watch the country implode on itself and march in some kickin' rallies. Now, I find myself losing my sense of humor about the situation. Which disturbs me, because without humor I am either a less angry Rolf or a more handsome Brian Namey. Seeing as how I get angrier and uglier every day, I need to rectify this state of events. Maybe I'll write an angsty LJ entry, and take a drink for every *hug* I get. Current Mood: sober
|Thursday, August 26th, 2004|
Perhaps they are using a dildo. Maybe there is more than one guy. Point is, what human could go in violent 15 minute bursts with 2 minute breaks for over 2 hours? The whole point of stamina is starting out slowly and building up over a long stretch of time. This sounds like a guy with very average stamina, but a simply inhuman reload time. Any theories?
|Tuesday, August 24th, 2004|
If there is anything I learned from nearly five years of writing proofs, it's that disconnected chunks of rambling describing different events in different ways can be streamlined into a cohesive logical framework by starting the last part with "Therefor,"
So basically, all of the interviews went well, and now I need to pass 3 exams to start the new job. I get some help preparing from American Express, and a 3k starting bonus when I've passed the last one. Soon after the interviews, my cousin Greg and his girlfriend Rebeca visited from New York. Much fun was had.
So for the time being, I've put math aside. I'm still studying for the LSAT in my spare time, but pretty much still for my own curiosity. More so, I'm busy studying for the NASD Series 7 broker's exam. And getting to know the neighborhood better. There is a tall abandoned building nearby that leads to some rooftops. From which I can watch the mostly transvestite hookers working the corners. I actually love my neighborhood, it's safe even at night though in a cutely creepy way.
Now, back to Federal Reserve Bank Repurchase Agreements.
The bankers followed us out west
And did in mortgages invest
And looked ahead and shrewdly planned
And soon they'll have our Kansas land. Current Mood: shrewd
After setting up the appartment, it was time for a random job. I ended up spending 3 weeks working for the Democratic National Committee. Long hours, terrible pay, but very interesting. We went door to door through the greater Philly area, campaigning and canvassing. The people working with me were a lot of fun. A mix of UPenn kids on summer break, and mid-20s hippies that do this for a living.
Also got to hang out a bit with Joe, Julie, and Eleanor from senate during that time. Some things change, some things stay the same.
Then, Yuliya convinced me to find a job with better hours (I was coming home close to midnight on most days). I updated my resume, and got a round of interviews with American Express Financial Advisors. You can take the Jew out of the bank, but ...
June was pretty much spent moving. We (and I mean that pronoun sarcastically) had a mountain of very important crap that took long enough to categorize bit by bit that I decided to just make a bunch of trips on my car rather then rent a Uhaul.
5 round trips from Pittsburgh to Philly were certainly interesting. There was a very symmetrical, sharp looking mountain just off the turnpike half way. On one of my last trips, I decided to pull over and climb it. When you're balanced in the crown of a tree on the exact top of the highest hill for 20 miles on the morning of June 21st, holy crap does the sun come up early. The sky started changing color at 4:05 AM. If only I had taken a flashlight, or if the damn moon had been out, I at least wouldn't have messed up my knee. Still, a very fun five hours. I might have to come back when the leaves change color.
|Random and untimely
Preparation for the wedding was insane. It consumed May. Also, costly. If only I had been gay, my parents would have simply disowned me rather then talk me into one of these.
The wedding itself was actually very nice. My sister summed it up in her toast. It went roughly like "This is so weird, this issoweird, thisissoweird, thisissoweirdthisissoweirdthisissoweird,
... thank you all for coming!"
Honeymoon was cool. Yuliya hated it at first, because Italy failed to live up to the bar set by Disneyworld. Wedding presents were awesome. The sheer size of my Aunt's family's cash contribution was a bit overwhelming, but it was also pretty amazing to have had half the stuff we needed to make the new appartment liveable gift-wrapped in the trunk. So a huge thanks to all the donors.
|Sunday, August 22nd, 2004|
Since I've been out of touch for so long, many of you may have questions. I'll answer seven.
7) A transvestite prostitute that works the corner two blocks away from my apartment.