For those of you playing at home, yesterday was my 31st birthday.
Birthdays are weird things. For many people, having a birthday means that they are now a year older. That's completely false, of course. Time moves at a constant pace on our planet, so you age one day everyday. Having a birthday doesn't make you older. I don't think this is news to anyone, but because of the way that we track our age, it often feels like we've suddenly aged a year. This perception can lead to having a bit of an existential crisis. If you don't believe me, think about this: have you ever met someone who doesn't want to admit that they're older on their birthday? If you haven't yet, you will.
Part of the problem is that even though time moves forward at the same, constant rate, we don't perceive it that way. Time flies when you're enjoying yourself but drags at a snail's pace when we're doing something tedious or boring. Add to that the fact that we measure our ages by whole years, it can often feel like an entire year has dropped itself on you.
To prevent having weird feelings of getting older on the anniversary of my birth, I start thinking of myself as being older a few months before my birthday. Around New Year's, I upgrade my age in my head. When my birthday finally rolls around, my new age is old news. I realize that this approach isn't for everyone, but it works for me.
I do want to mention that while I don't use my birthday as a marker for my age, I do still enjoy celebrating it. As with last year, I went to the Larsen's to celebrate my birthday, though it was more convenient to party the day before. We ate burgers, had cake, and played board games. It was fun and easy going, which is how I prefer things.
As a marker of time, birthdays aren't important to me, but as an excuse to have fun, they're great.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Surprising Trial
Wednesday began as any other day, with a pleasant breakfast and a hot shower. Right when I was about to leave, however, my pant split. Better to have it happen at home than at the office, I guess (also, this is the second pair of jeans from Old Navy to split on me after only a few months of use). This incident was to be a foreshadow of the rest of my day.
The first half of work went by easily enough with the assignment I was working on keeping me busy. At lunch, I decided that I would go to the MVA (the state's version of the DMV) to get a Maryland license. Why go on my lunch? The MVA offices keep insane hours, closing at 4pm every weekday and noon on Saturdays. I looked online to see if I could make an appointment, but discovered that wasn't an option. I didn't want to wait until Saturday because the MVA requires either a passport or a birth certificate and I only just got my birth certificate in and my license expires this coming Sunday. I didn't want to push things too close, just in case I needed more time. Another reason I went on my lunch was because there was a tracker online that said the wait was only 15 minutes. I figured that was a good sign, so I went.
The nearest MVA office was twenty minutes away, which isn't too bad, but I was starting to get nervous when I arrived that I wouldn't have time to finish everything and get back to the office in time. I quickly queued and got my number. I found a seat near a monitor that tracked which number was last called and waited. My number was getting close, but time was quickly running out. I was finally called around the time that I should have been on my way back to the office. I decided to stay since I was already at the window. How long could it take?
In addition to needing my birth certificate, they also needed my Social Security Card, my California license, and two pieces of mail to prove residency: I had a bill and a pay stub, but they would only accept the former. Luckily, the envelope that my birth certificate came in was in the car and that worked. My picture was taken, my information was confirmed, and it looked like I was nearly done. When the employee handed back my documents, she kept my California license. I asked to have it back (I still have my first two licenses and wanted to keep the third), but she refused. I asked why and she just said she couldn't give it back. I asked to speak to a manager, who repeated the same thing. I offered that they could deface the ID, even cut it half, but they wouldn't budge. I was given my new Maryland license and directed to where I could register a formal complaint. I decided to just go back to work.
As I drove, I got more and more angry. Why was losing my old license such a big deal? I thought it was a good picture of me, but that didn't explain why I was so upset. I made it back to the office (twenty minutes late, though I wasn't in trouble or anything) and I sat at my desk, ready for a welcomed distraction, but I couldn't calm down enough to concentrate. In fact, I got so mad that I started to shake a little. I eventually broke down and cried a little bit, the pain was so great. While I don't have my own office, my desk is in the server room where I'm otherwise alone, so I didn't have to worry about being embarrassed. The rest of the day, I tried to be productive, but my efforts were futile. The rest of my time at the office was basically shot.
Why had I gotten so upset over something so trivial? I'm still not sure, but I've thought a lot about it and came up with this: stress. I like my new job, but with a recent history of losing good jobs after a short time, I'm nervous about proving myself, both to the company and myself. Going to any form of the DMV is stressful, especially if you do something stupid like go on a lunch break. And then losing my license was a an unexpected blow, taking with it one of my strongest ties to my home state. It all became more than I could bear.
While I was struggling through the second-half of my workday, I said a prayer, asking for relief (I remember thinking how "ugly" the emotions were that I was experiencing). I felt inspired to get a Priesthood blessing. I texted one of my Home Teachers to see if he would be available that evening. He wasn't, but he called his companion (I only had the one number) who found a second brother to assist. I wasn't able to get the blessing until that evening and by then I had calmed down considerably. Still, I had felt prompted to get a blessing so I saw no point in turning it down now. The blessing that I received was short, simply promising me that I would find peace. With the word "Amen," all of the stress and anxiety of the day was gone. I thanked the brothers and before long they were on their way. After they left, Samuel asked me if I was now happy (there's that word again). I laughed and replied that no, I was at peace.
This experience was strange and I am still surprised at the impact that such small things can have when one is stressed out: you're not upset at the trivial annoyance, it's just the thing that pushes you past your limit. However, I am very grateful that I have a faithful Home Teacher and that I listened to the Spirit and received a blessing that brought a peace "which [sur]passeth all understanding."
The first half of work went by easily enough with the assignment I was working on keeping me busy. At lunch, I decided that I would go to the MVA (the state's version of the DMV) to get a Maryland license. Why go on my lunch? The MVA offices keep insane hours, closing at 4pm every weekday and noon on Saturdays. I looked online to see if I could make an appointment, but discovered that wasn't an option. I didn't want to wait until Saturday because the MVA requires either a passport or a birth certificate and I only just got my birth certificate in and my license expires this coming Sunday. I didn't want to push things too close, just in case I needed more time. Another reason I went on my lunch was because there was a tracker online that said the wait was only 15 minutes. I figured that was a good sign, so I went.
The nearest MVA office was twenty minutes away, which isn't too bad, but I was starting to get nervous when I arrived that I wouldn't have time to finish everything and get back to the office in time. I quickly queued and got my number. I found a seat near a monitor that tracked which number was last called and waited. My number was getting close, but time was quickly running out. I was finally called around the time that I should have been on my way back to the office. I decided to stay since I was already at the window. How long could it take?
In addition to needing my birth certificate, they also needed my Social Security Card, my California license, and two pieces of mail to prove residency: I had a bill and a pay stub, but they would only accept the former. Luckily, the envelope that my birth certificate came in was in the car and that worked. My picture was taken, my information was confirmed, and it looked like I was nearly done. When the employee handed back my documents, she kept my California license. I asked to have it back (I still have my first two licenses and wanted to keep the third), but she refused. I asked why and she just said she couldn't give it back. I asked to speak to a manager, who repeated the same thing. I offered that they could deface the ID, even cut it half, but they wouldn't budge. I was given my new Maryland license and directed to where I could register a formal complaint. I decided to just go back to work.
As I drove, I got more and more angry. Why was losing my old license such a big deal? I thought it was a good picture of me, but that didn't explain why I was so upset. I made it back to the office (twenty minutes late, though I wasn't in trouble or anything) and I sat at my desk, ready for a welcomed distraction, but I couldn't calm down enough to concentrate. In fact, I got so mad that I started to shake a little. I eventually broke down and cried a little bit, the pain was so great. While I don't have my own office, my desk is in the server room where I'm otherwise alone, so I didn't have to worry about being embarrassed. The rest of the day, I tried to be productive, but my efforts were futile. The rest of my time at the office was basically shot.
Why had I gotten so upset over something so trivial? I'm still not sure, but I've thought a lot about it and came up with this: stress. I like my new job, but with a recent history of losing good jobs after a short time, I'm nervous about proving myself, both to the company and myself. Going to any form of the DMV is stressful, especially if you do something stupid like go on a lunch break. And then losing my license was a an unexpected blow, taking with it one of my strongest ties to my home state. It all became more than I could bear.
While I was struggling through the second-half of my workday, I said a prayer, asking for relief (I remember thinking how "ugly" the emotions were that I was experiencing). I felt inspired to get a Priesthood blessing. I texted one of my Home Teachers to see if he would be available that evening. He wasn't, but he called his companion (I only had the one number) who found a second brother to assist. I wasn't able to get the blessing until that evening and by then I had calmed down considerably. Still, I had felt prompted to get a blessing so I saw no point in turning it down now. The blessing that I received was short, simply promising me that I would find peace. With the word "Amen," all of the stress and anxiety of the day was gone. I thanked the brothers and before long they were on their way. After they left, Samuel asked me if I was now happy (there's that word again). I laughed and replied that no, I was at peace.
This experience was strange and I am still surprised at the impact that such small things can have when one is stressed out: you're not upset at the trivial annoyance, it's just the thing that pushes you past your limit. However, I am very grateful that I have a faithful Home Teacher and that I listened to the Spirit and received a blessing that brought a peace "which [sur]passeth all understanding."
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
A Basic Right?
I heard a news segment yesterday about a business not wanting to provide certain types of birth control for their employees, citing religious reasons, despite the fact that the Affordable Care Act states otherwise. The case has gone to the Supreme Court. With my job dealing (indirectly) with government funded healthcare, I've thought a lot about this case and want to share my feelings.
I understand that certain types of birth control can help regulate a woman's cycle and that can be beneficial, but the case I referenced above doesn't deal with that kind of birth control, it deals mainly with so-called "morning after" pills. In the report that I heard, some representative of the plaintiff said that the business was "picking and choosing" what part of women's health to care for, but that all of men's healthcare would be covered.
The problem with any of these arguments is that the underlying question is being ignored: do all citizens have the right to sex without consequences? And this isn't about STD transmission because if it were, this case would be about condoms. No, this is about being able to have sex without worrying about pregnancy. To be clear, I relate to the worry. When money's tight, the last thing you want to deal with is another expense. I relate to that worry because while Allison and I were still attending OSU, she was late once. We started getting worried, but as the days dragged on, we accepted our fate and even started getting kind of excited. Once we found out that we weren't pregnant, we breathed a heavy sigh of relief, but we were ready to face what we thought was coming.
I am frustrated by the moral state of our country that states that birth control is a basic necessity that needs to be provided for all people. If you don't want kids or aren't willing to accept the fact that pregnancy may occur, keep it in your pants. (I just realized that as weird and alien a concept as polygamy seems to me, that's how everybody else feels about abstinence, or so their actions would indicate.)
I realize that I'm probably not swaying anyone in my audience as you're likely on my side already, but I've learned that writing out my arguments for some philosophical dilemma or what have you can help me make peace with it. So thank you for allowing me a platform from which to speak.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Tuesdays with Media: Jack-Ass vs. Strange Invitation
Today, I will be reviewing two versions of the same song, though they each have their own name: "Jack-Ass" and "Strange Invitation."
Jack-Ass
Strange Invitation
"Jack-Ass" was the fifth and final single from Beck's third studio album, Odelay. It's a lighthearted and fun song that doesn't seem to be about a lot. Beck's lyrics are noted as mostly being nonsensical (at least at first glance), but when you hear a song's lyrics with the music you can usually suss out the theme, if not the meaning. "Jack-Ass" is a little different since the lyrics never seem to line up with the music: the words seem to be a narrator putting himself down for his follies. The title of the song seems to be calling the narrator, or perhaps the audience, a fool. Though the song does end with a donkey braying, so it may just be a reference to that.
"Strange Invitation" is the same song, but a little slower and a bit more melancholy. It also removes the prominent sample from "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" by Them. That sample was the main part of "Jack-Ass" that made it so fun, but it also distracted from the meaning of the song: drifting through life without purpose. With words like, "I've been drifting along in the same stale shoes" and "When I wake up, someone will sweep up my lazy bones," it starts to become clear as to the songs message.
I prefer the sadder "Strange Invitation." It feels more honest. It knows that it doesn't have a happy message to share and it doesn't try to cover it up with a jaunty melody. Too much art, especially in America, is overly happy. Life isn't always happy, so I appreciate art that honestly portrays that.
"Jack-Ass" and "Strange Invitation" are distributed by DGC Records
"Jack-Ass" and "Strange Invitation" are distributed by DGC Records
Monday, March 24, 2014
Duties
Last week I briefly touched on a few details about my new job, but I didn't actually say what my responsibilities would be. Let's fix that.
CAS Severn (CAS is pronounced as one word, "Cass," and stands for "Computer Applications Specialists") has a contract with the United States Government to create a computer program to reduce wasteful spending within Medicare. I can go into more detail, but I'm not sure what I can or cannot share - I signed a lengthy nondisclosure agreement - but I think what I've laid out is vague enough that I should be fine. This program is one of the ways President Obama is fulfilling his promise to free up money to pay for the Affordable Care Act. I must admit, being apart of a company that will help to reduce the amount of money that the government bleeds on a daily basis makes me feel really good: it's something to be proud of.
Where I fit into this whole thing is that I will be writing the user manual for the program that is still being coded. I've been spending a lot of my time while at work reading up on what we have so far, as well as looking at the requirements set by Medicare, in order to familiarize myself with the project. It's really dry, desert-like even, but that's no surprise. I'll mostly be taking data from the programmers and plugging it into a template, while still keeping it as readable as possible, which is the real challenge of the project. On top of writing the user manual, I'll also be doing product testing to make sure that the program does what it's supposed, but that won't be for quite some time. I may also give some presentations to help train some of the users in the new program once it's rolled out.
I just realized that I have a pretty vital role in a major project that will have a significant, positive impact on a well-established government program. Holy wow, that's amazing. This really is the time to prove to the professional world that I've got what it takes. I'm ready and I'm excited.
CAS Severn (CAS is pronounced as one word, "Cass," and stands for "Computer Applications Specialists") has a contract with the United States Government to create a computer program to reduce wasteful spending within Medicare. I can go into more detail, but I'm not sure what I can or cannot share - I signed a lengthy nondisclosure agreement - but I think what I've laid out is vague enough that I should be fine. This program is one of the ways President Obama is fulfilling his promise to free up money to pay for the Affordable Care Act. I must admit, being apart of a company that will help to reduce the amount of money that the government bleeds on a daily basis makes me feel really good: it's something to be proud of.
Where I fit into this whole thing is that I will be writing the user manual for the program that is still being coded. I've been spending a lot of my time while at work reading up on what we have so far, as well as looking at the requirements set by Medicare, in order to familiarize myself with the project. It's really dry, desert-like even, but that's no surprise. I'll mostly be taking data from the programmers and plugging it into a template, while still keeping it as readable as possible, which is the real challenge of the project. On top of writing the user manual, I'll also be doing product testing to make sure that the program does what it's supposed, but that won't be for quite some time. I may also give some presentations to help train some of the users in the new program once it's rolled out.
I just realized that I have a pretty vital role in a major project that will have a significant, positive impact on a well-established government program. Holy wow, that's amazing. This really is the time to prove to the professional world that I've got what it takes. I'm ready and I'm excited.
Friday, March 21, 2014
House of Tutors
As of this writing, I have worked two two-hour shifts as an English tutor. It was pretty cool.
I was surprised at how quickly I adjusted my communication style to better fit the kids. For example, at one point I proofread a girl's essay that she wrote on The Scarlet Letter for her English class. This was just a bonus and not required as part of my job, but since part of my professional job is to proofread, I volunteered to look it over. Normally, when I see an error, I simply mark it and indicate what it should be changed to. For this student's paper, however, I would try to mark an error and ask a question about it ("Who are 'they?'") or explain why it was wrong ("Make sure all of the verb tenses match") without actually giving the answer.
The basic set-up for the tutoring center is that, after taking an assessment test and being assigned a particular level in different skill-sets (reading comprehension, vocabulary, spelling, etc.), we take the kids through various activity books. Usually each student will spend an hour each with math and English, but some individuals need more attention on one subject. The boy I helped out with yesterday spent 90 minutes with us on English before switching to math. The activities are pretty basic and I can grade their work without the answer key, but I use it since it's faster.
There are two ways to work with the kids: one-on-one or in groups as large as five, but usually no bigger than three. Typically, we only do one-on-one sessions with the kids if they are younger and need help focusing or if they are really far behind and need extra attention. Even when working with the students individually, we're not alone since there are other tutors nearby working with other kids.
One small complaint that I had is that some of the information in the readers is inaccurate. Not in a critical way, like explaining incorrectly how semi-colons work, but the little stories don't always give the right information. For example, one short paragraph explained that the "funny bone" is so named because it "feels funny" when you bang your elbow, which is patently false (an elbow bone is called a humerus; yes, even orthopedics can make jokes). Does this really matter? Not when it comes to reading comprehension, no, but I still corrected the book because my nerd-sense wouldn't stop tingling.
Erroneous trivial matters aside, I think it's pretty cool being an English tutor. Most of the kids don't want to be there and that sometimes gets in the way of being able to help them, but it's still fun to be paid to explain basic English rules.
I was surprised at how quickly I adjusted my communication style to better fit the kids. For example, at one point I proofread a girl's essay that she wrote on The Scarlet Letter for her English class. This was just a bonus and not required as part of my job, but since part of my professional job is to proofread, I volunteered to look it over. Normally, when I see an error, I simply mark it and indicate what it should be changed to. For this student's paper, however, I would try to mark an error and ask a question about it ("Who are 'they?'") or explain why it was wrong ("Make sure all of the verb tenses match") without actually giving the answer.
The basic set-up for the tutoring center is that, after taking an assessment test and being assigned a particular level in different skill-sets (reading comprehension, vocabulary, spelling, etc.), we take the kids through various activity books. Usually each student will spend an hour each with math and English, but some individuals need more attention on one subject. The boy I helped out with yesterday spent 90 minutes with us on English before switching to math. The activities are pretty basic and I can grade their work without the answer key, but I use it since it's faster.
There are two ways to work with the kids: one-on-one or in groups as large as five, but usually no bigger than three. Typically, we only do one-on-one sessions with the kids if they are younger and need help focusing or if they are really far behind and need extra attention. Even when working with the students individually, we're not alone since there are other tutors nearby working with other kids.
One small complaint that I had is that some of the information in the readers is inaccurate. Not in a critical way, like explaining incorrectly how semi-colons work, but the little stories don't always give the right information. For example, one short paragraph explained that the "funny bone" is so named because it "feels funny" when you bang your elbow, which is patently false (an elbow bone is called a humerus; yes, even orthopedics can make jokes). Does this really matter? Not when it comes to reading comprehension, no, but I still corrected the book because my nerd-sense wouldn't stop tingling.
Erroneous trivial matters aside, I think it's pretty cool being an English tutor. Most of the kids don't want to be there and that sometimes gets in the way of being able to help them, but it's still fun to be paid to explain basic English rules.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Thrown for a Loop
With the snow that hit us (once again) on Monday, my boss called me and recommended that I delay starting my new job until the following day. So I started on Tuesday, but I it felt like Monday, so I forgot to update the ol' blog in time for Wednesday. I'm starting to get back in the swing of things, but it does mean that I'm a day late. My apologies.
Since I've only had a day and a half at my new job (half of the first day was spent signing more paper work), I don't really have a lot to report. Everybody is really nice, the office has no dress code beyond "wear clothes," and I have a laptop that I have to take home every day. Additionally, there is one thing that I still don't completely understand: six hour work days. That's an over-simplification, but the idea is that since we all make a salary and are not eligible for over-time, as long as we meet our deadlines (which sometimes means staying late) and are in the office during "peak" hours (9 to 4), we aren't required to be there for eight hours. And since I'm just working on familiarizing myself with my role at this point (meaning that I have no deadlines), I've been sent home both days that I've worked at 4 o'clock. I understand the reasoning, kind of, but it still seems super strange.
Sorry that this post is both late and super short, but there's really not much to write about at this point. Most of yesterday was spent taking notes on new vocabulary that I need to learn, otherwise known as the kind of thing that isn't worth sharing. Tomorrow's post should be a bit better since I'll be telling you about my other new job.
Since I've only had a day and a half at my new job (half of the first day was spent signing more paper work), I don't really have a lot to report. Everybody is really nice, the office has no dress code beyond "wear clothes," and I have a laptop that I have to take home every day. Additionally, there is one thing that I still don't completely understand: six hour work days. That's an over-simplification, but the idea is that since we all make a salary and are not eligible for over-time, as long as we meet our deadlines (which sometimes means staying late) and are in the office during "peak" hours (9 to 4), we aren't required to be there for eight hours. And since I'm just working on familiarizing myself with my role at this point (meaning that I have no deadlines), I've been sent home both days that I've worked at 4 o'clock. I understand the reasoning, kind of, but it still seems super strange.
Sorry that this post is both late and super short, but there's really not much to write about at this point. Most of yesterday was spent taking notes on new vocabulary that I need to learn, otherwise known as the kind of thing that isn't worth sharing. Tomorrow's post should be a bit better since I'll be telling you about my other new job.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Tuesdays with Media: Artist vs. Audience
I've been thinking about my movie reviews from earlier this year and
how much fun it was to play film critic. After some thought, I've
decided to add an extra day to this blog and review some kind of media once a week.
I may review a movie, a TV show, a book, a song, a painting, a
website, or some other kind of art. I would enjoy feedback on these
reviews, so any thoughts, critiques, or disagreements left in the
comments are welcomed.
I decided to start by talking about art in general and how a piece's message can vary from person to person. One of the reasons that Shakespeare is the continual subject of analysis and criticism is because his plays and poems have many layers to them. That means that two people can read the same piece and come away with different messages and themes. For example, while I was taking a course on Shakespearean literature to finish up my BA, I watched a couple of different versions of Richard III. One was much more traditional, playing up the despicable nature of Richard and setting up his downfall as his own doing. The other, however, was pretty funny; it still dealt with Richard's downfall, but it didn't take itself as seriously. The lines were the same, but the performances interpreted the material very differently.
Just as the directors of those different performances saw the material differently, we as audience members can see a work of art differently from what the artist intended. I felt that my farcical short story was obviously satirizing how standards of beauty for both men and women have changed over the years, but not everybody got that: one person couldn't get over how ugly the character's names were, but that was kind of the point. That doesn't mean that that person's interpretation was wrong, just different from what I intended.
That's one of the great things about art: just as the artist brings certain notions and ideals to the table, the viewer brings different notions and ideals. Both are right in their interpretation because art truly is in the eye of the beholder. So for the foreseeable future, I will show you what I see in a particular piece of media once a week. Please join me.
I decided to start by talking about art in general and how a piece's message can vary from person to person. One of the reasons that Shakespeare is the continual subject of analysis and criticism is because his plays and poems have many layers to them. That means that two people can read the same piece and come away with different messages and themes. For example, while I was taking a course on Shakespearean literature to finish up my BA, I watched a couple of different versions of Richard III. One was much more traditional, playing up the despicable nature of Richard and setting up his downfall as his own doing. The other, however, was pretty funny; it still dealt with Richard's downfall, but it didn't take itself as seriously. The lines were the same, but the performances interpreted the material very differently.
Just as the directors of those different performances saw the material differently, we as audience members can see a work of art differently from what the artist intended. I felt that my farcical short story was obviously satirizing how standards of beauty for both men and women have changed over the years, but not everybody got that: one person couldn't get over how ugly the character's names were, but that was kind of the point. That doesn't mean that that person's interpretation was wrong, just different from what I intended.
That's one of the great things about art: just as the artist brings certain notions and ideals to the table, the viewer brings different notions and ideals. Both are right in their interpretation because art truly is in the eye of the beholder. So for the foreseeable future, I will show you what I see in a particular piece of media once a week. Please join me.
Monday, March 17, 2014
How Others See You
This last weekend was Stake Conference. The prevalent theme during the Saturday session was missionary work, both with sharing the gospel with non-members and with doing genealogy and temple work for the dead. The meeting began with two youth speakers, one young man and one young woman, followed by two converts, one recent and one who's been a member for about twenty years. All of them said a variation of the same thing: members of the Church are happy.
As this phrase came up time and time again, I started getting annoyed, maybe even a little angry. I would not describe myself as "happy." Content, perhaps, and even jovial at times, but I don't consider myself a happy person. Yet here were four different individuals that keep using the same language. Is it just a quirk of Maryland? Maybe, but I think there is more at work here.
Part of my issue with "happy" is that I consider it to be descriptive of moments, not states of being. For example, when I landed my new jobs, I was happy (though that's putting it mildly: I was ecstatic). While I will remain appreciative and satisfied to be employed, I don't think "happy" will be appropriate anymore.
Another problem with "happy" is that, to put it bluntly, I have too broad a vocabulary for "happy" to be satisfying. Just as an experienced painter will think of colors in more specific shades ("What a lovely azure flower"), I tend to think of descriptors that are specific and narrowly defined. "Happy" is too broad.
Even with that in mind, I struggled with the idea that members of the Church are recognized by outsiders as being "happy" because I didn't think that that applied to me. Then I thought about the past year and how much I've changed. For example, I used to regularly scowl whenever I went grocery shopping - I'd worked enough retail jobs that I would automatically be in a bad mood by simply entering a retail establishment. I would never be rude to anyone, but I would be as impolite as possible. Now, however, I am very polite when interacting with other customers and the store's staff. I even smile at people.
I think the problem I have with identifying myself as "happy" is that my current disposition is so new, that I haven't internalized it yet. It's like when you lose or gain weight: you put on or lose pounds pretty slowly, but you don't notice it until one day your pants fit differently. I've lost some emotional weight, but I've only just realized it. Even so, I doubt I'll accept "happy" while there are so many other adjectives I can use.
As this phrase came up time and time again, I started getting annoyed, maybe even a little angry. I would not describe myself as "happy." Content, perhaps, and even jovial at times, but I don't consider myself a happy person. Yet here were four different individuals that keep using the same language. Is it just a quirk of Maryland? Maybe, but I think there is more at work here.
Part of my issue with "happy" is that I consider it to be descriptive of moments, not states of being. For example, when I landed my new jobs, I was happy (though that's putting it mildly: I was ecstatic). While I will remain appreciative and satisfied to be employed, I don't think "happy" will be appropriate anymore.
Another problem with "happy" is that, to put it bluntly, I have too broad a vocabulary for "happy" to be satisfying. Just as an experienced painter will think of colors in more specific shades ("What a lovely azure flower"), I tend to think of descriptors that are specific and narrowly defined. "Happy" is too broad.
Even with that in mind, I struggled with the idea that members of the Church are recognized by outsiders as being "happy" because I didn't think that that applied to me. Then I thought about the past year and how much I've changed. For example, I used to regularly scowl whenever I went grocery shopping - I'd worked enough retail jobs that I would automatically be in a bad mood by simply entering a retail establishment. I would never be rude to anyone, but I would be as impolite as possible. Now, however, I am very polite when interacting with other customers and the store's staff. I even smile at people.
I think the problem I have with identifying myself as "happy" is that my current disposition is so new, that I haven't internalized it yet. It's like when you lose or gain weight: you put on or lose pounds pretty slowly, but you don't notice it until one day your pants fit differently. I've lost some emotional weight, but I've only just realized it. Even so, I doubt I'll accept "happy" while there are so many other adjectives I can use.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Year One
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my moving to Maryland. One year ago, I was an unemployed college graduate with few prospects of becoming a professional. I had never lived alone before and, other than for my mission and college, I had never lived outside of my parent's home. All that and more changed this year.
I've definitely had a bumpy start to my career. Six months at half-time for OSU's library, four months at RJM, and about six weeks at Prometric (though about half of that time was disrupted due to my seizure). Even so, I've gotten nothing but positive feedback from all of my employers and I'll be starting my latest endeavor on Monday. A rough beginning to be sure, but I'm making progress and I'm just as excited as ever to be writing in a professional capacity.
I lived completely on my own for nine months. While the freedom that affords is nice, I've always been a social creature, so living alone never felt completely natural. And this time around, it's my home with someone else as the guest, which is a first.
I've faced a lot of challenges. Three of the four times I went to the emergency room in 2013 happened in Maryland, and I still don't know the allergen that sent me there. I had a seizure. I was unemployed - twice. I got really depressed. I got fat. However, one positive side to challenges is that when you overcome them, you become a stronger, better person. While I still don't know what's been causing my allergic reactions, I can recognize the signs of one much faster and I don't have to go to the ER anymore. I've been prescribed anti-seizure medication to prevent me from having both seizures and aphasias. I overcame my depression and lost my kumerspeck, then I found a job - I suspect that that order of events was no accident.
I recently shared with someone that I was approaching my one year mark of moving to the Maryland of Opportunity and they asked me if the year was a slow or a fast one. I had to say "yes" because all parts the year did not move at the same pace. Some parts moved quickly, while other parts (like the last three months) seemed to drag on at a snail's pace. An unbalanced year does not a bad year make, though. In fact, even with all of the trials I've had, this was a year that I needed. I'm sure that if I were to meet myself from one solar orbit previous, I would hardly recognize me. But that's fine because as professional person who is healthy both physically and emotionally, I'm in a better place now.
So now comes the challenge: to make this next year (3/13/2014 - 3/13/2015) even better.
I've definitely had a bumpy start to my career. Six months at half-time for OSU's library, four months at RJM, and about six weeks at Prometric (though about half of that time was disrupted due to my seizure). Even so, I've gotten nothing but positive feedback from all of my employers and I'll be starting my latest endeavor on Monday. A rough beginning to be sure, but I'm making progress and I'm just as excited as ever to be writing in a professional capacity.
I lived completely on my own for nine months. While the freedom that affords is nice, I've always been a social creature, so living alone never felt completely natural. And this time around, it's my home with someone else as the guest, which is a first.
I've faced a lot of challenges. Three of the four times I went to the emergency room in 2013 happened in Maryland, and I still don't know the allergen that sent me there. I had a seizure. I was unemployed - twice. I got really depressed. I got fat. However, one positive side to challenges is that when you overcome them, you become a stronger, better person. While I still don't know what's been causing my allergic reactions, I can recognize the signs of one much faster and I don't have to go to the ER anymore. I've been prescribed anti-seizure medication to prevent me from having both seizures and aphasias. I overcame my depression and lost my kumerspeck, then I found a job - I suspect that that order of events was no accident.
I recently shared with someone that I was approaching my one year mark of moving to the Maryland of Opportunity and they asked me if the year was a slow or a fast one. I had to say "yes" because all parts the year did not move at the same pace. Some parts moved quickly, while other parts (like the last three months) seemed to drag on at a snail's pace. An unbalanced year does not a bad year make, though. In fact, even with all of the trials I've had, this was a year that I needed. I'm sure that if I were to meet myself from one solar orbit previous, I would hardly recognize me. But that's fine because as professional person who is healthy both physically and emotionally, I'm in a better place now.
So now comes the challenge: to make this next year (3/13/2014 - 3/13/2015) even better.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
All of the Jobs
I mentioned in my last post that someone at church was asking about me due to my reputation as someone who was adept in the ways of English, but I never said why. It turns out that that member owns an after school tutoring center which specializes in English and math. While I certainly appreciate the order and predictability of math, English is obviously my strong suit. I have an interview with the center's director this evening after my temp job.
"But Jordan," you're probably saying to your screen, "the last time you tried working two jobs, it blew up in your face." Firstly, I can't hear you when you talk at your screen; just leave a comment. Secondly, yes, working at RJM and the Italian restaurant proved to be too much for me. However, I think what the problem in the set up was that RJM was easily the most stressful job I've ever had, which made going to wait tables - a job that is inherently stressful - a terrible decision. This time, things are more balanced. Even if CAS Severn is just as stressful as RJM was, though I can't imagine how that could be possible, the tutoring job will be fairly easy since I can teach basic English skills in my sleep.
"But Jordan," you're probably futilely telling you screen, "children can be stressful." Okay, you really need to stop that before you embarrass yourself. Even so, you have a valid point. The reason I think I can handle it is that I've taught Sunday School to kids as young as 9 within the past couple of years and kids tend to rile each other up. I'll be one-on-one with each student, so that should make it easier.
And if I'm wrong and I can't handle it? I'll stick with just my analyst job, but after this long bout of unemployment, I don't think there is anything as working "too much."
"But Jordan," you're probably saying to your screen, "the last time you tried working two jobs, it blew up in your face." Firstly, I can't hear you when you talk at your screen; just leave a comment. Secondly, yes, working at RJM and the Italian restaurant proved to be too much for me. However, I think what the problem in the set up was that RJM was easily the most stressful job I've ever had, which made going to wait tables - a job that is inherently stressful - a terrible decision. This time, things are more balanced. Even if CAS Severn is just as stressful as RJM was, though I can't imagine how that could be possible, the tutoring job will be fairly easy since I can teach basic English skills in my sleep.
"But Jordan," you're probably futilely telling you screen, "children can be stressful." Okay, you really need to stop that before you embarrass yourself. Even so, you have a valid point. The reason I think I can handle it is that I've taught Sunday School to kids as young as 9 within the past couple of years and kids tend to rile each other up. I'll be one-on-one with each student, so that should make it easier.
And if I'm wrong and I can't handle it? I'll stick with just my analyst job, but after this long bout of unemployment, I don't think there is anything as working "too much."
Monday, March 10, 2014
A Good Reputation
While I was at church yesterday, the Elder's Quorum president told me that another member or the ward, one of the Clerks, was asking about my availability because he could use someone who was "highly skilled" in the ways of the English language. While I do make comments about grammatical quirks or other nuances of the language from time to time, I have never said anything on that subject to the Clerk in question. I was surprised that he would think of me when looking for an English expert, not that I don't fit that description, but that he was aware that I fit it.
Apparently, I have built up a reputation for myself as the "English guy" in my ward. I realize that when I'm constantly spouting off about the subject that it really could only be a matter of time before it happened, but I'm still touched that that is the persona I've established. It makes me think of my dad, who is both the "English guy" and the "scripture expert" in his ward. I may still have some work to do before I can have that second title, but for now, I am happy with the impression I've made.
Apparently, I have built up a reputation for myself as the "English guy" in my ward. I realize that when I'm constantly spouting off about the subject that it really could only be a matter of time before it happened, but I'm still touched that that is the persona I've established. It makes me think of my dad, who is both the "English guy" and the "scripture expert" in his ward. I may still have some work to do before I can have that second title, but for now, I am happy with the impression I've made.
Friday, March 7, 2014
The Wait is Over
Starting March 17th, I will be a full-time, permanent employee of CAS Severn. I will be working as a Business Analyst, which I realize doesn't sound like "technical writer," but neither did Business Development Coordinator when I was at RJM, even though most of my time was spent writing technical document. CAS Severn makes software, particularly for Medicare and Medicaid. And, yes, this is the job that I had unofficially secured last week.
When the news came, I was dumbfounded. My brain kind of seized up (perhaps not the best choice of words) and I couldn't believe it. I first found out while I was at my temp job (I sneaked a peak at my email on my phone) and my mouth dropped open. I had to force myself still to keep from shaking with shock. I sent a text to my folks to try to make the news of the job offer more real; even as they texted me with congratulatory messages, reality still hadn't caught up with me.
That evening when I got home, I called and talked to my dad, mostly to give him some more details on the job. As we talked about it, I kept giggling: I was suddenly so excited that I couldn't contain it. Finally, it seemed to be real. And it was awesome.
Thank you to everyone that has been praying for me to get real employment. This has not been an easy three-and-a-half months, but I know that it was important for me to go through. While I'll leave what I think the moral of my unemployment was for another time, I will say that I'm happy to have learned my lesson and that I'm ready to move on.
Now I just need to wait - like an overly exuberant child on Christmas Eve - and actually start the job.
When the news came, I was dumbfounded. My brain kind of seized up (perhaps not the best choice of words) and I couldn't believe it. I first found out while I was at my temp job (I sneaked a peak at my email on my phone) and my mouth dropped open. I had to force myself still to keep from shaking with shock. I sent a text to my folks to try to make the news of the job offer more real; even as they texted me with congratulatory messages, reality still hadn't caught up with me.
That evening when I got home, I called and talked to my dad, mostly to give him some more details on the job. As we talked about it, I kept giggling: I was suddenly so excited that I couldn't contain it. Finally, it seemed to be real. And it was awesome.
Thank you to everyone that has been praying for me to get real employment. This has not been an easy three-and-a-half months, but I know that it was important for me to go through. While I'll leave what I think the moral of my unemployment was for another time, I will say that I'm happy to have learned my lesson and that I'm ready to move on.
Now I just need to wait - like an overly exuberant child on Christmas Eve - and actually start the job.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Biting My Tongue
This is the first time that I've had a companion in my place, rather than being a roommate in someone else's. It turns out, I'm really particular about how things are done in my apartment.
For example, Samuel is very good about washing his dishes after he eats, but he has odd choices for what he uses to cook and eat with. I'll come into the kitchen after he's cleaned up and find in the dish-drainer a tupperware container that he used to eat out of, even though he knows where the regular dishes are. My initial reaction is to say something like, "Dude, use a real bowl." In fact everyday I come across something that makes me stop and question why he did things that way instead of the more obvious "normal" way (like laying his bar of soap on its wrapper on the side of the tub rather than placing it on the built-in soap tray).
However, as long as it's not causing harm, I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter. I still think some of his choices are strange, but I have decided to just keep it to myself. Plus, he's not just having to get used to a new roommate and new apartment, he's also adjusting to the US and looking for work. The least I can do is look past a few idiosyncrasies. And maybe I could stand to be more patient with people with whom I disagree.
For example, Samuel is very good about washing his dishes after he eats, but he has odd choices for what he uses to cook and eat with. I'll come into the kitchen after he's cleaned up and find in the dish-drainer a tupperware container that he used to eat out of, even though he knows where the regular dishes are. My initial reaction is to say something like, "Dude, use a real bowl." In fact everyday I come across something that makes me stop and question why he did things that way instead of the more obvious "normal" way (like laying his bar of soap on its wrapper on the side of the tub rather than placing it on the built-in soap tray).
However, as long as it's not causing harm, I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter. I still think some of his choices are strange, but I have decided to just keep it to myself. Plus, he's not just having to get used to a new roommate and new apartment, he's also adjusting to the US and looking for work. The least I can do is look past a few idiosyncrasies. And maybe I could stand to be more patient with people with whom I disagree.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Adjustments
Samuel moved in Saturday. So far things are fine, but we're still early in this new situation, so I'm sure adjustments will need to be made. One that showed up early proved that while we're both easy going, we need to communicate better.
I picked up Samuel from his former residence and helped him pack my car with his stuff. We then went to the Bishop's Storehouse and picked up our food orders. Finally, we made it back to my place - I'm reluctant to call it "our place" when Samuel doesn't have his own room. We were both tired since we had, completely independent of each other, had trouble sleeping the night before. Samuel laid down, but I started work on some dinner rolls for a ward function that night. Once the dough had been mixed, kneaded, and left to rise, I went out for a run (the weather is turning cold and wet again, so I'm glad I took the chance while I had it). When I got back, I punched the dough down and let it rise again. After the second rise, I rolled the dough into balls and left them to rise the final time.
At this point, we had been home for about four hours. I hadn't showed yet - I put it off since I was planning on running - so I told Samuel that I was going to shower and did just that. He just said "okay." I decided that I would take a long, relaxing shower and it was really nice. However, once I was out (fifty minutes later), Samuel told me that he needed to shower before the ward dinner. I felt bad for taking so long, but at the same time I didn't know that he needed to shower (a simple "I'll shower after you" would have been all I needed). I popped the rolls in the oven when Samuel went in and they both came out fifteen minutes later. We actually made it to the dinner with about five minutes to spare.
Now, this was only the first day and considering that we merely had one bad miscommunication and nobody got mad about it is a good sign. We've already both made an effort to schedule things better, so we're even learning from our mistake. Hopefully most of the adjustments we go through will be just as simple.
I picked up Samuel from his former residence and helped him pack my car with his stuff. We then went to the Bishop's Storehouse and picked up our food orders. Finally, we made it back to my place - I'm reluctant to call it "our place" when Samuel doesn't have his own room. We were both tired since we had, completely independent of each other, had trouble sleeping the night before. Samuel laid down, but I started work on some dinner rolls for a ward function that night. Once the dough had been mixed, kneaded, and left to rise, I went out for a run (the weather is turning cold and wet again, so I'm glad I took the chance while I had it). When I got back, I punched the dough down and let it rise again. After the second rise, I rolled the dough into balls and left them to rise the final time.
At this point, we had been home for about four hours. I hadn't showed yet - I put it off since I was planning on running - so I told Samuel that I was going to shower and did just that. He just said "okay." I decided that I would take a long, relaxing shower and it was really nice. However, once I was out (fifty minutes later), Samuel told me that he needed to shower before the ward dinner. I felt bad for taking so long, but at the same time I didn't know that he needed to shower (a simple "I'll shower after you" would have been all I needed). I popped the rolls in the oven when Samuel went in and they both came out fifteen minutes later. We actually made it to the dinner with about five minutes to spare.
Now, this was only the first day and considering that we merely had one bad miscommunication and nobody got mad about it is a good sign. We've already both made an effort to schedule things better, so we're even learning from our mistake. Hopefully most of the adjustments we go through will be just as simple.
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