Accounting Day

Now that I’m unemployed, I’m rather amazed I ever managed to be employed in the first place. Here it is, one o’clock in the afternoon, and I’ve managed to get shit-all done. Just been knocking about the house for hours now. The interwebz is evil, but I waste plenty of time Not Online as well. 

I will look on this all as further proof that I need to win the lotto and be independently wealthy for the rest of my days.

And before rampant accusations of taking advantage of the system come forth, be advise: I still have not received ANY compensation from CA unemployment. I did manage to finally contact them. Seems they never received a claim form from me. This is because I never received the form from them, in order to fill it out and mail it back to them.

So they’ve re-mailed the last several weeks claims. Which shouldn’t be a problem. But my mail carrier has this nasty habit of skipping my mailbox. Why? If I’m being generous I can say that the mailbox construction is such that a flag cannot be used, therefore I cannot indicate that I have items in the box for pickup. If I’m being less generous, I could say that the postal worker for this area is a lazy ass, never does the mail run at a regular time, and takes every opportunity to shirk their duties.

In any event, those Netflix DVDs have been sitting in that box since early Monday morning. Chop, chop, USPS. Babby needs new movies and to get on the dole!

Last Friday turned out to be Accounting Day. I spent it with Princess Overhoff, who is currently looking for full time work as a forensic CPA. She is very active in the local accounting organizations, does presentations, goest to conferenes, etc. In short, she does everything one could do to land a job, including taking temp work and going to tons of interviews. But she just can’t seem to land a job. It’s a bullshit situation, to be sure.

Anyhoo, she’s always going to these accountant meetings, and has asked me to accompany her a few times. Lord knows I’ll try anything twice (three, maybe four times), so I finally said yes and found myself at the meeting of the local chapter of California CPAs. Free lunch, if nothing else. 

Well, I wish I could say it was boring. What it really was : infuriating. The two speakers were tax lawyers, and by the time they had been speaking for about ten minutes, I realized that it’s not just paranoia: rich people and corporations really DON’T pay taxes, only the rapidly dwindling “middle class” and poor people. And I was in a room full of people, some of them middle class themselves, who were determined to keep it that way.

I like to think of myself as a realist, honest with myself and others. So that’s why I can freely state that I’m pretty much a bad influence on everyone around me. I think I might even be able to corrupt clergy. This meeting was no different. After one particularly brutal statement, I scratched a note to my CPA friend on the back of the meeting pamphlet. The following occurred.

Me: Is he saying the govt is going to LOWER corporate taxes?

PO: It’s a consideration, but S corps do not pay any taxes b/c all profits are “passed through” to owners.

Me: Tax cuts for large corps is insane. –AND they are going to cut charity subsidiaries? This is the reason I don’t watch the news.

PO: Welcome to the wonderful, fascinating world of tax. 

Then there’s about a half page of us discussing tax education, some details from the speakers, and some stuff I frankly still don’t understand. Then this.

Me: We are terrible. Quiz time! How well do you know Hawkeye? Identify what she likes about the gentlemen on the right.

PO: I personally like the nose.

Me: THIS IS WHY WE IS FRIENDS!!!!!

At this point Princess Overhoff whips out her iPhone and begins to show me a series of pictures of various men with similar features. Starting with this one:

Very like the nose in question. After about ten images the writing recommences.

Me: Did you just Google “big nose?”

PO: The Habsburg Nose. Yay Austrian royalty. Another advantage of inbreeding, instantaneously recognizable. 

So, yeah, I learned a lot at my accountant meeting.

After learning how much the government and evil tax lawyers were bent on depriving us of money, there was really no choice but to go shopping. We hit up some stores and ended up down at the Third Street Promenade. Which I still just wander around in, having no idea where I am. 

I resisted all buying urges (even in Sephora!) until we passed by Yummy Cupcakes. You have to know where to draw the line. I draw it at sweet treats.

I got some kind of coconut chocolate cupcake, and PO got a red velvet half n half. Holy Mary Mother of God—I almost went into an insulin coma from these cupcakes. The icing was that incredible cream cheese kind and there was about ½ cup of it on there and the cake part was not too sweet and OMG GO TO YUMMY CUPCAKES.

http://yummycupcakes.com//Menu.htm  (Dude, does that say “7-Up flavored cupcake?”)

For the record, the cupcakes better be good. At $3.50 a pop, I expect deliciousness. When I paid for the cupcakes I asked the salesgirl how much, she said, “Uh, about tree fiddy.” That’s when I noticed this particular sales girl was about three stories high, long as a football field, and green: she was the got-dayum Loch Ness monster!*

Now, Princess O had been expounding on her hatred of humankind that day. Again. She is a committed misanthropist. I usually play devil’s advocate to her position, even if I agree with something she’s said. I say it’s in interest of a balanced worldview, other people say it’s just because I’m contrarian and annoying. Whatevs.

As we ambled down the street, laden with delectable confections, a women catches our eye and comments on the cupcakes. PO says, “They’re delicious. Want to try some frosting? Just stick your finger in there.”

This is after a day of venting about how much people sucked and how come the world at large couldn’t tell that she hated them and just leave her alone ranting. As the woman used a handiwipe and PO tapped her foot in impatience, I couldn’t help the shit eating grin that was spreading over my face. When we resumed our walk, I couldn’t help but tell PO that I suspected part of her problem was sending mixed messages to the world. She looked askance and I replied, “I like to consider myself a friendly person. But no stranger gets to stick their finger in my icing.”

And PO promptly put that quote on the t-shirt list. 

The day ended with drinks in downtown BH, and a showing of “Chasing Madoff,” a documentary about the four main whistleblowers in the Bernie Madoff ponzi scandal.

The film itself is okay. It’s a little hokey and over dramatic, but I think you have to take it all in context. While the other whistleblowers might not have felt threatened, by the end of the movie I believed that Harry Markopolos felt legitimately threatened. I also believed him to be a bit on the crazy side, in general. But just because you’re crazy doesn’t mean you’re wrong.

As I’ve stated many times, I’m a purposefully ignorant person. I stopped watching the news when I was ten or so, because it was so depressing. Everytime I break the abstinence cycle on this one I just hear something that really pisses me off. But there’s nothing that I can do about it. Which just makes me tired. And sad. 

So I was pretty uninformed about the Madoff thing. I had no idea how big the fraud was, in monetary or international terms. While the movie focuses on the TEN YEAR attempt by these guys to get the SEC or somebody to listen to them about the Madoff fraud,I would have liked to hear more details about the fraud itself.

The ultimate conclusion of the movie is by far the most disturbing part. You just think you are depressed that the government and all major media outlets willfully ignored well researched reports on an obvious fraud for a decade. A FREAKING DECADE. But no, the real kick in the pants is realizing that Mr. Madoff couldn’t have done this all on his own—that it took an entire network of individuals and highly esteemed financial institutions to knowingly support and perpetrate this fraud. And to this day, NONE of those aid and abetting the scheme have been prosecuted, fined, etc. 

PO had a very emotional response to the film, and I concluded that Accounting Day was depressing and needed to be over. We finished with a cocktail a the Culver Hotel. I wish I hadn’t been so tired, b/c that place seemed really cool and had a nice little jazz band busting it up in the back. After a day of unpleasant truths and self analysis, Princess O flipped the tables on my and opined on my two worst traits. While I appreciate her rigorous honesty, it was still a bit of a blow at the end of a long day.

Oh god. The autistic bird next door is screaming again. Dear lord give me strength not to kill that thing.  

*If ever you find yourself, gentle reader, perusing this blog and going “WTF? I do not understand what is being said here,” do not worry. It’s not you. It’s me. You’ve innocently stumbled into a moment of my selfish self-amusement. Just ignore it and go on with your day. If you recognize what is being said, seek medical help immediately. And call me. We’ll hang out.