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FAQs
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Have you ever asked someone (who later passed away) to give you proof of an afterlife? For example, a word/gesture that only you
In my late teens and early twenties, my boyfriend would always tell me he was going to die young or live forever. I would tell him to stop saying that because he couldn’t possibly live forever. He would laugh, so unaffected by the thought of dying young. So one night after he’d said it again while we were lying in bed I jabbed him in the ribs. He laughed yelled “ow!” and said what was that for? I told him every time he said it from now on I was going to poke him right between the ribs and make him wish he was dead. He laughed and turned on me, poking me in the ribs where I was most ticklish. He said “alright then, then after I’m good and young and dead I’m going to haunt your ass and jab you every time you annoy me!” This turned into a ridiculous sort of assaulting tickle fight. A night I remember fondly.A few months later, I was 21 and he was 24. We’d spent the day watching movies with my best friend. It was June 22, 2007. A beautiful summer Friday evening. We decided to go be outside somewhere. Enjoy the weather. So we gathered some friends and dogs and skateboards and took off. The first part of the evening was full of laughter and summer sweat. But less than two hours after we left my house, the night was full of screams and too much blood. We had been jumped on an elementary school playground in Baltimore County and in trying to protect me my boyfriend was brutally assaulted in front of me, beaten by three men with baseball bats.The moments between the actual attack and getting to shock trauma are flashes. There’s the flash of me holding his broken body, begging him not to leave me. Flashes of his grip on my hand weakening. His eyes rolling back into his head if I stopped talking to him long enough to scream at the two women who had stopped to call 911, demanding why it was taking so long. There’s the flash of the EMTs arriving, telling me not to let him go yet as they secured his neck. Me begging them to tell me he was going to be okay and their refusal to speak or look at me. Flashes of the wind of the helicopter landing and of him being loaded into it, me falling to the ground so hard my knees bled for days, praying to a god I didn’t even believe in. Flashes of flying down the highway to get to Hopkins. Apparently the entire way I rocked and sobbed “please don’t take him away from me,” though I don’t remember.I was numb and in shock and already experiencing PTSD from what I saw. I was questioned by police, shuffled from waiting room to interview room and back. Numb. Sticky. Staring at the blood on my hands I’d refused to let the firefighters wash off, so afraid they’d be washing him away for good. I sat in a small chair in the waiting area, covered in his vomit and so much blood that had poured from his broken body, namely the large opening in his skull, that it looked like motor oil. Looking back this time is a blur, I have only two clear memories of the wait to go see him. I remember a fly buzzing around the vomit on my knee. Then I remember running people. Crying people. I remember glancing up to see a very famous skateboarder sitting in the chair next me. Tears streaming down his face. I watched the tears for a moment before went back to staring at the fly on my knee.A day later while my boyfriend was in a drug induced coma I learned that at the exact moment my boyfriend was being jumped, Stephen Murray was taking his turn on the Baltimore stop of the BMX Dew Tour. He was flying through the air, attempting a double back flip, turning the wrong way and landing even worse on his neck. He was flown into shock trauma just seconds after my boyfriend. They didn’t know if either man would make it. I spent the next week numbly spending time with Stephen’s at the time wife, who was also named Melissa. We swapped pills we’d been prescribed to try to get through what was happening around us, chain smoked outside and she invited me over for spaghetti to the empty home the Dew Tour had set her up in down the street. I came to know his family and friends. In fact the moment I learned my boyfriend was having part of his skull removed to try to accommodate the swelling in his brain, I stepped off the elevator and there stood Stephen’s mother Cynthia and his brother. She took one look at my face and wrapped me in her arms. Holding me as I sobbed before asking in her unbelievably soothing English accent, “do you have a mum here?” I’ll never forget that woman, that hug or that voice. Warmth I latched onto in that cold sterile hallway.Stephen survived his accident a Quadriplegic and my boyfriend died July 10. Eighteen days after the attack and on my baby brother’s seventeenth birthday. The days after I barely remember. I recall I picked out the clothes he would be buried in but couldn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t see him in a casket, the hospital had been bad enough. After the funeral many of my friends came to my door to check on me. One of them was one of the kindest most unbelievably genuine people I’d ever know, named Mark. Mark would continue to check on me every day after we the others all faded away, unsure how to talk to or be around me. But not Mark. He texted, called or just showed up for months to make sure I was at bare minimal surviving.Two weeks ago yesterday I stood at the podium at Mark’s viewing, looking down on him in his own casket, sharing that very story. While standing there I mentioned my boyfriend. I mentioned how he and Mark and I spent one summer together. I mentioned how Mark had been there for after the murder and I mentioned that they were together now.After I sat down and began listening to another person share a story about Mark, I thought back to Mark sitting next to me on my front step a month after the murder. He’d shown up at my door and dragged me out into the sun. I began crying that day. Mark jokingly told me to stop being a cry baby that my boyfriend would hate it. At that exact moment I felt Mark jab me between the ribs. I jumped and went to swat his hand away but his hands were in front of him. Mark looked at me funny and asked what was wrong. I told him what my boyfriend had said about poking me in the ribs. Mark laughed his huge laugh from his beautiful shit eating grin and said he totally believed my boyfriend was jabbing me in the ribs for being a cry baby. He’d have done the same thing he said before playfully shoving my shoulder and wrapping an arm around me.Two weeks ago yesterday I sat on a small love seat across from Mark in his casket with my current fiancé, in a room swollen full of young people and I thought back to that moment and I began to sob again. Next to me my fiancé shifted in his seat, my eyes were locked on Mark in his casket, and I felt a jab between my ribs. I flinched and looked to my fiancé, my eyes wide, but he was leaning away from me signNowing for a tissue. I looked back to Mark, remember his big shit eating grin saying of course it was my boyfriend jabbing me in the ribs for being a cry baby, he would do the same thing!And all I could do was smile.
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How do consultants eat messy food with suits on?
The trick of course is dealing with this without drawing inappropriate attention to yourself. Evelyn’s answer is excellent.On a couple of occasions, as a last resort, I’ve claimed to be allergic to something!Here is a humorous related story.Food Fight?I was one of several consultants at a sit down dinner hosted by the client. The clients were at one table the consultants were at another. After the meal, one of my associates was scheduled to make a presentation to a small group of clients. She was very nervous.Throughout the meal it seemed that part of everything she attempted to put in her mouth somehow ended up on her blouse. As it was white, it began to look like some kind of new age art painting. This just made her even more nervous.Near the end of the meal she headed for the ladies room along with two female associates to try to repair the damage. I was told they tried every trick they knew but the damage was done. They even discussed trading blouses but color and size issues ruled that choice out.It’s now time for the presentation. This very nervous lady walks to the head of the table. It’s a small group so she is quite close to us and she’s a mess! You can see every stain and some are even worse due to the failed attempts to remove them.What happened next turned this young woman into a legend!She introduced herself and immediately launched into a hilarious story about her involvement in a food fight. Within moments she had everyone laughing. Then, with a beautiful segue, she told a joke about the problems you can have when your fork malfunctions! Any stand-up comedian would be proud.She moved on to an excellent presentation.Ten days later we signed a major deal with them!
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Let's say there's a truly "permanent" marker with unlimited ink. What would you do with it?
Achieve World Domination.No, really! If used correctly, a completely permanent marker has the potential to be a very powerful weapon.The first thing I’d do is find this guy:Muhtar Kent, CEO of Coca-Cola and owner of Dasani water, the most popular bottled water in the world.I use my incredible strength and wit (or a tazor) to overpower him. I explain to him that I have a sharpie that cannot be erased, and demonstrate its power.Then, I tell him that if he doesn’t sign the entire DASANI® corporation over to me, I will draw a dick on his forehead. In permanent marker. Which will never, ever wash off.Understanding that this would mean the end of his professional and social career, he agrees.I now own one of the highest-grossing water companies in the world.NOW.FOR THE WORLD DOMINATION PART.Seeing that this Sharpie has unlimited ink, I dip the Sharpie into one of Canada’s vast rivers. Slowly, the ink will leak out and poison the river system. After many weeks/months, I succeed in eliminating the main source of drinkable water in the country.(Tedious, yes. But sometimes you gotta play the long game.)Now that the country’s freshwater reserve is nearly depleted, bottled-water stock SOARS.As the new owner of DASANI®, this is exactly what I wanted. I buy a reserve of underground freshwater that remains clean and use it to keep my company running. Within a matter of days, the competitors have run out of product, and I become filthy rich.My next stop is an appointment with this guy:Justin Trudeau, Prime Minister of Canada. Now that I am a rich and influential business owner, I have no trouble getting an audience with him.I explain to him what I have done with the water, and give him an incentive: if he steps down as Prime Minister and gives me legal authority over the government, I won’t poison any more water. The citizens of his country will live.If he still isn’t convinced, I use the ‘drawing-a-dick-on-the-forehead’ thing again. He resigns immediately, and Canada is mine.Using my new diplomatic influence, I slowly meet with every other world leader and repeat the process with each, until I have a small empire under my command.I proceed to use said empire to take over the rest of the world.And as easily as that, I’ve become the Empress of Earth with nothing but a simple Sharpie!If that doesn’t work, I would probably just draw some funky pictures and call it a day.(P.S: This is a joke, pls don’t attack me.)
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What's a telltale sign you're in front of a very intelligent person?
The answers largely reveal a put upon group, don’t they? According to what I read being intelligent means you don’t fit, are misunderstood and often mistreated. Better I guess to be Mill’s satisfied pig than a dissatisfied human, right? But to answer the question: there are many forms of intelligence and if you’re very intelligent then you may have the ability to recognize the forms as they appear. Ever spend time with professional athletes? They are, compared to regular people, athletic geniuses and you can draw out of them how they think, how a basketball player keeps a mental map of wher...
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What made your “jaw drop” during a job interview?
Because my husband is a Presbyterian minister, I always get dragged to interviews. Usually not the first interview. Somehow, what the psignNower’s wife looks like is indicative of his ministry. Something like that.But once, he was told to have me present at the first interview.We drove about 80 miles to a church for a pulpit ministry, solo pastor position. The church had burned down five years before and the congregation had built a church similar to the previous, keeping the “flavor” of the old, but had built a state of the art new sanctuary with all the IT bells and whistles anyone could ever want in a church building. The building was amazing.We toured the building for about an hour with the six members of the Pastor Nominating Committee or PNC. The committee was very pleased with our oohs and aahs over the rebuilt church.We then drove a quarter of a mile to the church house or manse. It was a very old historic house that was a total dump. We toured every room but one, and just as we were about to open that last door, the Interim Minister walked out and walked out of the house to go somewhere without looking at us or saying a word.Very creepy.Oh well.We then got back in the cars and drove a quarter mile past the church to a member’s house. It was an historic home, similar to the manse, but had been restored and was incredibly beautiful. Amazing house.Maybe if we were neighbors they’d fix up the manse?At this lovely home, we all sat down for a lunch. A nice lunch, beautifully presented, but I kept noticing a weird aftertaste and tackiness in my mouth.Just after we ate our dessert, the woman across from us at the table (and it was a long, narrow table) said in a loud firm voice: Ahem. The interview will begin now.I looked down for my purse and for someone to signal to me when to get up and where to go.Nobody signalled at me.I sat where I was. I was feeling very squirmy inside, though.How awkward are my own job interviews? How awkward will it be to sit through my husband’s job interview? I guess I’ll find out.The lady across from us, I supposed she was in charge, shuffled some papers and read the name of my husband’s high school and the year he graduated.“Can you confirm this is your high school and the year you graduated?” she asked.My husband answered in the affirmative.I was thinking to myself that was a pretty creative manner of discerning someone’s age when that lady started talking to me.I looked up at her.She had just asked me how old I was.I gave her my big beautiful smile and the answer I always gave, “Thirty-six!”She gave me the stare-down, the mean old lady stare-down.“No,” she said. “Really.”Now, this is a photo of me several years after this interview.I was 57 in this photo.This is a photo of my husband during the same time period. He’s 58.I knew what the committee was thinking.They knew from my husband’s biography, ours was a second marriage. They wondered if I was the much younger wife.We got that all the time.Once, someone asked me about my father, pointing to my husband.But, really. To ask me my age? How rude.The stare-down continued.I looked around the table and not one face showed any support for me at all.I took a deep sigh and said, “Fifty-four.”“So, the older child is your child?” the woman asked.“Yeah.”I don’t remember anything else. I was on fire. I was ready to blow and take all those people with me into the seven hells.But I sat quietly, said nothing. Stared at a flower arrangement across the room.I thought and thought to myself how illegal was it for them to ask ME my age, when it was illegal to ask my husband his age.How illegal would it be for me to stretch my hand across the table and pinch that woman really hard.Things wrapped up, we got up from that table, and were headed for the door. The owner of the house told us how pleased he was to meet us and how thankful he was that we ate the food.Huh?“We’re all diabetics and all the food has aspartame in it. Wasn’t sure if it would be to your liking.”As soon as we drove about a mile from that house, the church, the manse, I let out a huge scream.“You can go to that church but I’m never going anywhere near it!”My husband just laughed and said he wasn’t going near it either. He couldn’t believe they had asked me my age. I couldn’t believe he didn’t call them on that, but, it’s not his style.And the food? Made me extremely ill as I’m very allergic to aspartame. Was in bed for two days because of it.My husband has kept his promise to never “allow” me at the first interview.But I’m still dragged out so people can look at me. Don’t look so young anymore but committees just have to “see” me and ask me every question or drive me hither and thon and show me everything.God is gracious.
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What are some of the subtle ways Queen Elizabeth shows her disapproval or dislike of a person? She is known to be polite under a
During social occasions, it is customary for all those due to meet Her Majesty to form a line. A Royal aide, who stands just behind Her Majesty, tells her the name of the person she is meeting and what they do. Her Majesty always begins every conversation.The Queen did not attend school, neither did her younger sister, Princess Margaret. Both were taught at home by tutors and/or a governess/nanny. From all accounts, the sisters’ education was not particularly comprehensive. As a result, Her Majesty has had to teach herself about geography, history and politics, to name just a few subjects. Conversations therefore tend to be very brief and very general.She has several ‘codes’ for her staff, while meeting and greeting. Having initiated a conversation, once she has heard enough, she moves her ever-present handbag from one arm to the other. Her Royal aides will then discreetly move her along the line to the next person.During the Government of Tony Blair, Her Majesty is said to have disliked both Blair and his wife, Cherie Booth, a prominent barrister. Both Blairs were republican. While Tony Blair was always respectful to the Queen (as Prime Minister he met her once a week, every week, for their private and confidential audiences, during which both are free to question the other on pressing issues), Cherie pointedly refused to curtsy to the Queen, even when she was a house guest of the Queen. QEII meets her PMs wherever she is. If she is in Sandringham, the PM sees her there, and the same applies to Balmoral. Cherie was standoffish and incredibly rude. Her Majesty ignored her, as did the rest of her family. When Blair was first elected PM in 1997, he met Princess Anne. Having done the introductions, Blair reportedly told the Princess ‘Please, call me Tony’, to which Anne replied ‘I think we’ll stick with Mr. Blair’.On one of Blair’s early weekly audiences, he walked into the Queen’s drawing room and was mortified when his mobile phone began to ring. According to a footman, Her Majesty is reported to have smiled, and said ‘Oh dear. I do hope it wasn’t anyone important’. Touché!Anyone displaying signs of rudeness (speaking before the Queen, attempting to eat before the Queen, attempting to continue to eat once HM is done eating etc) will be ignored and never invited to return. Her Majesty does not enter into heated debates.Her Majesty is said to have clashed several times with another of her Prime Ministers - Margaret Thatcher. One morning, Her Majesty sent a message to Downing Street, saying that she wished to speak to Mrs. Thatcher immediately. A short while later, she was informed that Mrs. Thatcher was too busy to attend, but would see her later. Furious, Her Majesty summoned Thatcher to the Palace for an urgent audience (possibly concerning The Falkland Islands), and made her stand for the duration of the meeting. When the Queen ‘asks’ to see you, it isn’t a request at all.During a photo shoot with American photographer Annie Leibovitz, Her Majesty wore the gorgeous robes of The Knight of The Garter (pictures below). As Her Majesty posed for the camera, Leibovitz asked if the Queen would remove her tiara, as she thought it ‘too showy’. Her Majesty looked at her in disbelief and said ‘Too showy? And this isn’t?’ (pointing to her incredible KOTG robes). The tiara stayed.Her Majesty in Knight of The Garter regalia:Her Majesty, as photographed by Annie Leibovitz:
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What dirty business tactics do you know?
Last Saturday, I ordered pizzas from Dominos. I heard the Customer Care guy saying, “Your pizzas will be delivered within 30 minutes.” I asked him, “Do you still have this 30 minutes offer?” I asked him because, for some reason, I was under the impression that they discontinued this offer long back. Cool! I thought.Within a minute, I got a call from the local branch. A girl was on the call.She: Sir, you just placed the order, and you order is xxxx..!Me: Yeah!She: I am sorry but your pizzas will be delivered in 45 to 50 minutes.Me: Why so?She: On Saturdays and Sundays we have more orders, so...
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Have you ever been in the presence of a celebrity but didn't know who they were at the time?
Back in the early ‘70s I graduated from TWA’s Breech Training Academy for flight attendants in Kansas City.I would be domiciled in San Francisco, along with three other girls from my class and we decided to get an apartment together and be roomies.Upon landing at the San Francisco Airport, we picked up our luggage and headed to the car rental booth, only to find they were out of cars until the next day.We switched gears and stopped at the first cocktail lounge we saw to plan what to do next. We knew we had to live close to the airport, but none of us knew the area, nor how to go about finding an apartment —without a car.Being new in one of the most desirable airports on TWA’s roster, we knew we would be at the bottom of the seniority totem pole and “on call” —available for flights on a moment’s notice, or as soon as we could get there, any time a more senior flight attendant couldn’t make their scheduled flight.We agreed, having no car was a setback, so we ordered a second glass of wine.Just then, a shadow fell across our table and we looked up to see a tall, fairly good-looking guy and his friend standing there. They introduced themselves and the tall one said he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help overhearing that we needed a car to find an apartment and no rentals were available.We motioned for them to pull up a chair and we shared our predicament with them over another glass of wine.Eventually, they told us they were there to meet with some executives from work to discuss their new jobs. The executives would have a limo, so they would be glad to lend us their rental car. It was out in the short-term parking lot.Tall man went on to say it would help them, because the executives wouldn’t have to follow them back to their motel to drop the rental off. We could all meet back at the airport the next day and return their car once we had rented our own.We were thrilled! What a nice thing to do for four total strangers.We thanked them, accepted the rental keys, and made plans to meet the next day. Then we set off on our apartment-hunting adventure.Luckily, it didn’t take long. As I remember, we saw two apartments. Both were in Burlingame, only minutes from the airport, and we settled on the second one.Problem solved, and we had a car for the whole evening for exploring our new ‘home’.Let’s skip ahead 6 months …We were all home at the same time for a change and flipping through the TV channels for something to watch with a pizza. Chrisanne stopped on a brand new show —silent and dumbfounded, all eyes were fixed on the tall, fairly good-looking new friend who had so kindly lent us his rental car.The show was “MASH” and our friend? Alan Alda.
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How was your ISRO interview experience?
My interview was at Antriksh Vihar, Delhi on 1/08/2018. I applied for Scientist ‘SC’ in Mechanical Engineering Branch. I was 30th in the merit in the written qualified candidates(Scored 200/231) but it was of no use as ISRO selects solely on the basis of Interview. Total 382 candidates were qualified for the interview.Firstly, I took guidance from some of my seniors at AMU working in ISRO. They told me to confident while giving the interview. Yet, I was quite nervous as I am 2018 batch pass out and had no idea of such interview.I entered the room and wished the panel members. There were around 11-panel members staring at me. The senior-most of them asked me to take my seat.M1: Introduce yourselfME: I introduce myself like this (remember the order)My name is Mohammad Munis and I am from Deoria, UP. I did my high-school from Jeevan Marg Sophia Secondary School, Deoria with 88.04% in 2012, +2 from Senior Secondary School, Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) with 84% in 2014. I did my B.Tech in Mechanical Engineering from Zakir Hussain College of Engineering and Technology, AMU with 8.94 CPI in 2018. My B.Tech final yr project was on “Optimisation in the efficiency of Wells Turbine” which was successfully completed by the team member of three. Currently, I am pursuing my M.Tech in Thermal and Fluid Engineering from Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay.Now, coming to my family background. My father is a teacher, my mother is a housewife. We are 5 siblings. 2 brother and 3 sisters and I am at number 4.M2: Take the pen and go to the whiteboard.ME: I didM2: Draw a vertical line. from its, draw a horizontal line with a mass attached at its end. The system is rotating about its vertical axis. Design the shaft.ME: As I was doing, they stopped me and jumped to next questionM2: Why the spokes of a cycle wheel do not buckle although their bunch gets buckle?ME: I explainedM3: what are the modes of heat transfer?ME: conduction, convection, radiationM3: What are the laws of radiationME: I answered and we had some discussion over thatM3: Does the wavelength of radiation is fixed or it has some range?M3: Then how we use the formulae to calculate them?ME: I explained to them by drawing some fig of black, real and grey bodyM3: Why blackbody is called as a blackbodyME: I explainedM4: How to prevent a body from radiation?ME: I explained by drawing some figM4: Why rocket are yellow in colour?ME: I asked is it really yellow or white as I have seen in movies then we had some funny discussion over that.then I tried to explain using E vs lambda dig which was already drawn on board.M5: Suppose you have a black and a white car. Which would have a higher inner temp.?ME: both will have the same temp.They laughed and said that I am wrong.then I explained using emissivity I explained the Stefan eqn very properly and gave some eg for the two cars and applied the law.They asked my eg again and finally got convinced(there was an inverted frustum-shaped glass on my table)M6:Draw the elevation, plan, LHS, RHS,cross-sectional.while I was drawing one of them asked that whether it is a 1st angle or 3rd angle projection.ME:3rd (hurriedly)they all laughed and asked me to go verify. I was confused and about to say something.M1: thank you very much.I thanked them and walked out of the room.The result of the interview has been declared and I am happy to announce that I have been selected with AIR 29
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