Thanksgiving Teaser

More to come ...

Feeling It

What to feel really old, even though you know you're not that old?  Go on splits with the full-time missionaries in your ward.  The conversation may include the following topics:

• When you served your mission (I completed my mission about a decade ago).
• What it was like when you served (months after I came home, usage of the discussions was discontinued).
• What music you like (the same genre as them, but you don't recognize any of the bands that they name that don't count as "classic rock").

I don't regret my time recently spent with the Elders, but man is it weird being on the other side of the interaction.

2-Dimensional

At the temp job I was working on Friday, the Office Manager gave me an assignment: using the normal receptionist's - excuse me, the Director of First Impression's* email account, I was to send out a proof of all of the new business cards about to be ordered for all of the real estate agents.  Now, my direct supervisor (whose title I don't recall) had already given me an assignment, but the Office Manager was her boss, so his assignment got the priority.

After some trouble logging-on to the email account, the Office Manager pulled up the website where all of the proofs were displayed.  Trying to show my eagerness to be of service, I offered to write a draft of the email with the condition that he would get to make any changes to it before I sent it out.  His response?  "No, I'm going to do it; I want to make sure it's done right."

Now, I'm guessing that this guy doesn't know that I've spent years working on my communication skills, particularly when it comes to writing - I mean, I was just a temp after all.  Even so, that's still so condescending that I practically had to check to make sure that I wasn't in a cartoon.  And the best part is that the email he wrote was woefully vague: he only gave instructions for what to do if the proof was correct, but no instructions on what to do if changes needed to be made.  However, having been so rudely rejected, I was not about to point out his flaws, so I copy-and-pasted his words for each email I sent out.  Sure enough, emails came flooding in from the agents with questions on how to correct errors on their business card proofs.

I've shared this experience with a few people already and everybody is pretty shocked that another actual human being could act like such pompous jerk.  I just laughed it off, seeing his failure as self-inflicted.  The worst part is that I'm sure that he has no idea what he did was even rude.  Oh well, at least I was just a temp and won't have to deal with this kind of buffoonery on a regular basis.

*This is a clear case of "job title inflation," like how employees at Subway are called "Sandwich Artists." At this rate, pretty soon a cashier at grocery stores will be called "Associate Director of Sales."

Bitter

Fernando poured a cup of coffee and passed it to Britta. She accepted the cup happily and breathed in the aroma. It was a cold, winter morning, so having some hot coffee would do her some good. She usually added creamer to her coffee, but she didn’t want to delay warming up, so she decided to take it black this time.

She looked at Fernando as he poured a cup for himself and thought about her feelings towards him. They were just friends – him with his girlfriend and her with Rick – but she often wondered if things would be different were they not tied down. Not that she wanted to break things off with Rick; she just wondered if she and Fernando would be compatible as a couple, or if being friends was for the best.

She continued thinking on the matter when she took her first sip of coffee. Not only was it still rather hot, it was also very strong. Strong and incredibly bitter. She looked back at Fernando and was suddenly annoyed at him. Why hadn’t he told her that the coffee was like this? Didn’t he care about her at all?

Her annoyance grew until she was not just angry, she was furious. All of the time that she and Fernando had spent hanging out and this is how he repays her friendship? He might as well slap her in the face. No, a slap in the face would be better than this. This was like a stab in the back.

Fernando turned to offer Britta some creamer, when he saw that she was glaring at him. He seemed to know what was going on and spoke up.

“Britta,” he said, “you can’t drink this coffee straight: it’s very bitter and can sometimes affect the drinker.” He opened a shot of French Vanilla creamer and held it out for his friend. “Drink this, it will help mellow out the coffee.”

Britta looked at him, scowling. “Don’t you mean it'll mellow me out?”

“Just drink it, Britta.”

“Why should I do anything you tell me to do, Fernando?” Britta asked, her words dripping with venom.

“Drink this and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

“Good,” Britta said as she grabbed the shot and threw her head back as she downed the contents. Suddenly, she wasn’t angry anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure why she had been angry at all. She looked at her friend. “What happened?”

“I forgot to tell you,” Fernando explained, “this is pure, uncut Columbian coffee that my tia sent me. It can be a bit strong for the uninitiated. It sometimes makes the drinker as bitter as the coffee itself. Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Britta said, still a little surprised at what had happened. She looked at Fernando and thought about how he was such a good friend. Here he was sharing with her something that his aunt had sent him. That was just like him to be so kind. Maybe if things were different …

"How May I Direct Your Call?"

I got another temp job.  This one is just for a day-and-a-half, but it's something.

I was called late in the morning yesterday by the temp agency to find out if I was interested in working as a receptionist.  I, of course, jumped at the chance to work some more, so I was at work just before noon.  Today it will be more of the same, but I'll be there the whole day.

The client company this time is a real estate firm, so I'm surrounded by salespeople.  Sales and I don't get along well, so while I'm there, I feel a little out of place.  Plus, this is a really hard core firm because they charge each employee for the brochures that they send out, each sign that they place on a property, even each page that they print.  It's kind of ridiculous.  Then again, the service that I provide for companies is to write, which often means reviewing, sometimes on physical paper.  That's like charging an old fashioned accountant for the pencils he uses.  It's just a part of the job, people.

Anyway, in between answering the phone, I spent my time scanning documents into the network for digital storage.  By the end of the day, the portable phone I had kept on me when I was away from the desk had a low battery, so I just had to sit at the desk.  I decided to spend my time productively, so I wrote something.  It'll be posted tomorrow if anyone's interested.

It does feel good to be working again, even if it's just for a day-and-a-half.

Natural Living

Angie stared out of her bedroom window. From her vantage point, she could see into her neighbor’s backyard, the same backyard where she and her husband had eaten dinner last night. She looked on, frozen with a bizarre mixture of emotions, as her neighbor’s young son was pooping on the grass.

“Eric,” Angie called. Her husband walked out of the adjoining bathroom where he had been brushing his teeth.

“Mrlph?” he questioned, his words obscured as he wiped his mouth with a hand towel, walking towards her. “What’s up, Ange?”

“Remember dinner last night at the Wright’s?”

“Babe, why would I forget? It was just last night. Plus, I still can’t get the taste of kale out of my mouth.”

Without saying a word, Angie pointed towards the young boy who was now running around the backyard, completely naked.

“Is that Grover?” Eric asked, squinting his eyes. “And is he naked?”

“Yeah, but that’s not even the weirdest thing. Just, like, a minute a go, I saw him pooping. Right on the grass, too.”

“No way!” Eric said is disbelief. “Like, what, he was just squatting and taking a dump?”

“Yeah! I mean, he’s only three, but that’s still super gross. Why would Wayne and Verona let him do that?”

“Come on, they don’t know this is happening. I’m sure Grover just got up before them and he’s, y’know, being a kid.”

“You used to poop outside as a kid?” Angie asked incredulously, turning to face her husband, one eyebrow raised.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eric said, putting his hands lovingly about his wife’s waist. “Just that he’s doing something dumb and weird.”

“We need to tell them about this. He shouldn’t be allowed outside, especially to go to the bathroom.”

“Whoa, hold on, Angie,” Eric said, his voice becoming serious. “You can’t just order them around.”

“I’m not ordering anyone to do anything,” Angie said, walking towards the nightstand on her side of the bed. “I’m just going to let them know what’s happening and they’ll obviously take care of it.” Angie picked up her cell phone and started scrolling through the contact list. “What’s their number?”

“I don’t know; I never got it.”

“Fine. I’ll walk over and tell her.” Angie walked over to the closet and began to change out of her pajamas

“Please don’t make a thing out of this,” Eric said to her from his spot in front of the window.

“I’m not making a ‘thing’ out of this. There’s nothing to make out of it. I’m just going to ring their bell, tell them that their son is running around like a wild animal, and then I’m going for a run.”

“Just try to be careful how you tell them.”

Angie walked out of the closet, now wearing running shorts and a t-shirt and carrying a balled-up pair of socks in one hand and her running shoes in the other. She sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on. “It’s fine, Eric,” she said without looking up.

“I just mean that some people might be offended to have their child described as ‘a wild animal.’”

“Obviously I’m not going to use those exact words,” Angie said, a little annoyed. Having tied her shoes, she walked into the bathroom and started brushing her hair. “I’ll be back in, like, thirty minutes and we’ll have breakfast.” She stopped and turned to look Eric in the eye. “I promise that I won’t be offensive, okay?”

“Alright,” Eric said, not pushing the matter further. “I’ll have breakfast ready when you get home.” He turned and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

Angie returned to brushing her dark, curly hair. It was so frustrating that Eric was more concerned about not offending their weird neighbors than taking her side. She just wanted him to listen to her and see her side of things. She decided that she was brushing her hair a little too hard, probably because she was annoyed with her husband. She pulled her hair into a pony tail with a hair-tie and pulled a head band out of a drawer to further keep her unruly hair in place. Clearly, her Puerto Rican ancestors had never considered how big, think, curly hair would make exercising so uncomfortable. She applied some deodorant and left the bathroom.

She grabbed her phone and slid it into its armband case which she put on her left upper-arm. She picked up her earbuds and started untangling them as she walked down the stairs. When she made it to the bottom, she said “bye” to Eric, who replied in kind, and walked out the door.

It was still pretty early, at least for a Saturday, so the street was mostly empty. That would make running easier. Angie was still annoyed at Eric for not being supportive, but she had a feeling there was more to her state than was obvious at the surface. Sometimes that happened. Even though she didn’t know what was bothering her, she knew that her run would help. Running always seemed to clear her head and after watching a little boy poop in his backyard, she needed her mind cleared out.

~~~

As Katy Perry’s “Roar” played in her ears, Angie ran. This run was different than usual. Normally when she ran, the running was the point. This time, it felt like she was running away from something. She reviewed the recent conversation in her mind, looking for reason in the confusion. She had rung the doorbell of the Wright’s home and was greeted by Verona.

“Oh hi, Angela!” Verona said, smiling broadly. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, hi” Angie said, smiling nervously. “And Angie’s fine. Anyway, I just stopped by to tell you that I saw Grover in your backyard and that you might want to check up on him, that’s all.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I know he’s back there. He can be a handful and letting him run around in the morning makes him more manageable.”

“Okay. Did you know that he’s naked?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Remember last night when I said that we like having everything ‘all natural’? I wasn’t just talking about food. Other animals don’t wear clothes, so why do we? Wayne and I are teaching Grover to not be ashamed of his body. Whenever we’re at home, we encourage him to wear as little as he wants to. It should be great for his self-esteem.”

Angie knew that Verona was kind of a hippie but this was really pushing the envelope. Suddenly, Angie didn’t want to waste any more time talking and just get to running.

“Right. Well, I also saw him, um, pooping. In the backyard. Just thought you should know.”

“I think that it’s barbaric to force our children to hold in their waste. No other animal besides humans wear diapers or use toilets. Obviously we can’t always live naturally and organically, but that’s only because society forces its norms on us and makes us assimilate. We want Grover to have as much freedom as possible, so yes, we let him relieve himself outside. Besides, human waste makes for wonderful fertilizer, so our garden is very healthy.”

Angie’s blood ran cold. “You mean you use your family’s poop as fertilizer for the food that we ate last night? Like the tomatoes and onions and kale we ate last night were grown out of your poop?”

“Yes! Isn’t it amazing what you can do when you go back to living organically? I like to think that some of our vegetables, I’ve eaten twice.”

~~~

Angie had felt suddenly queasy, something that happens when you find out your dinner the night before grew out of human-manure. She told Verona that she just wanted to make sure that Grover was okay, but she had get going for her morning run.

Having finished her two miles, she thought about going farther, as if she could sweat out her uneasiness. She decided that the best thing to do was to go home and eat a new meal. She couldn’t un-eat dinner, but she could replace it with something new.

She walked through the front door and was greeted by the rich smell of bacon in the air. Eric’s cooking was usually simple, but it was also usually tasty. She went into the kitchen, still a little sweaty from her exercise, to find Eric sliding an omelette on to a dining plate, next to another plate with a matching omelette. She walked over to the fridge to grab a cold water bottle when she asked what kind of omelettes he had made.

“Well,” Eric replied, “the Wrights had sent us home with some kale, so I figured we should get rid of it right away. And you know how bacon can improve the taste of anything, so it should go down pretty easy. Babe, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Indeed, Angie was frozen in horror as she looked at her breakfast. After a moment (but what felt like an eternity) she finally was able to compose herself enough to say what was wrong.

“Eric,” Angie said, not taking her eyes off of the omelettes, “the Wrights make their own fertilizer.”

“Well, sure. Lots of people have compost heaps.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, turning to look her husband in the eye. “What I saw Grover doing this morning was making fertilizer.”

Suddenly, all of the color drained from Eric’s face. He moved quickly over to the sink and started making retching noises. Angie walked up behind him put a hand lovingly on his shoulder. Seeing him like this made her feel better. Not because he was dry-heaving, but because it meant that he was on her side. Their conversation this morning had made it feel like there was a distance between them, but here in the ugly-light of nausea, she could see that he was on her side. As gross as it was, it was also a beautiful moment.

After nearly a minute of dry-heaving, Eric stood up and turned to face his wife. “I am never eating anything from their garden again,” he said, his grey-blue eyes full of moisture. He looked over in disgust at what he had made for breakfast. “What’s the opposite of garden-fresh vegetables?”

Angie couldn’t help but laugh a little before she replied. “Probably bacon.”

“Bacon alone is no match for manure-fed kale. Let’s go to McDonald’s.”

Angie nodded in agreement, gently smiling.

As she climbed into the passenger seat of the car as Eric held the door for her, Angie was happy for the weird morning she had had. It was frustrating to have Eric disagree with her, but if they hadn’t disagreed, it wouldn’t have felt so good when they were back in agreement. If it took having the argument to get to the happy moment of being equally grossed-out by their neighbors, she was glad to have gone through it all.

Though she doubted that they’d ever eat kale again.

Friends Indeed

After such a stressful week, I said a prayer as I drove home on Friday.  I started to have a pretty severe panic attack - thinking about how I lost my source of income due to my conscience when I still have plenty of bills was too much to handle.  It was so bad, that I lost the ability to speak, even in prayer.  I got the idea that I needed a priesthood blessing and I thought about the Simciks whose house was on the way home.  I decided to follow the prompting and went to their home.

When I got there, Lori answered the door (I haven't mentioned before, but Mark and Lori are in their mid-fifties and I think of them as a sort of aunt and uncle to me).  In a stuttering voice, I asked if Mark was home.  She said he wasn't but asked if there was anything she could help me with.  I tried to explain what had happened, but I couldn't make any sense.  I was stuttering so bad and pausing so long, it was like I wasn't even talking.  It became too much for me and I broke down crying.  Lori asked me to have a seat and she got a box of tissues for me.  The act of crying was somewhat cathartic and I was able to start talking again.  I explained what had happened and why it was so hard for me to deal with.  Lori was very kind and just talked with me for a while as I calmed down.  She also shared about a difficult time in her life that seemed to be too much at the time, but also helped her become stronger.  It really helped to have some empathy from someone that could relate to going through hard times.

We ended up just talking for a while.  Feeling much better, I was about to excuse myself to go (I was going to see if I could stop by my home teacher's house to get a blessing) when Mark called to say he was on his way home.  Lori briefly told him that I had stopped by to see if I could get a priesthood blessing and that I was still there.  Mark asked that I stayed until he got there and he'd be happy to fulfill my request.  Mark provided the blessing once he got home, which was exactly what I needed.  I still don't know what I'm going to do about all of my bills, but I was promised that it would work out.  Then they asked me to join them for dinner and we went to a Korean restaurant.

More than anything else about this situation, I'm happy to know that I have people in my life that I consider friends that are available when I need to talk.  It's kind of weird because they're old enough to be my parents (though I'm still older than their oldest child), but it's clear that we're close friends.  Just knowing that I have some friends to turn to is worth losing a job over.

The Price of Honesty

As I posted last week, I was able to find a temp job doing data entry work for the time before my real job starts on December 1st.  I started working at the temp-client company on Monday.  I knew that the job would last beyond what I was available, but I didn't have all of the details.

As it turned out, I was replacing a woman who was preparing to go on maternity leave and she was training me to do her job before she left.  That made me feel bad because when I would be leaving, someone else would have to train my replacement, taking them away from their responsibilities.  Even so, I followed my directions from the temp agency and didn't say anything about having a real job that would be starting during the time I was contracted to work.

I was learning the job well and everyone was saying how quickly I was picking it all up and how they liked what I was doing.  Plus, everybody was really nice and offered help constantly.  But I kept feeling bad about being dishonest.  A lot of comments were made about how I was really going to be helpful during my time there and how the various holiday parties are a lot of fun.  It was one thing to not say anything when no one was mentioning the length of my employment, but it seemed like people were bringing it up all the time.

At the end of the day on Tuesday, I found out that the woman I'd be covering for would be staying longer than expected.  She was originally scheduled for a C-section because the baby was in the wrong position, but after her final ultrasound she found out that the baby had moved to the right place so her doctor cancelled the C-section.  Her due date isn't until the Monday before Thanksgiving.

After the change of plans, I really had trouble sleeping.  On the one hand, I didn't want to keep being dishonest, but on the other hand, I really needed this job.  Working the two-and-half weeks before Thanksgiving would really help me be better financially prepared for when my real job starts.

Thursday night, I decided that I needed some advice.  I called my folks and talked them through everything and they suggested that I bring it up with my supervisor at the temp agency.  She's my boss, so if we could come up with a solution, she should be involved.  I was hoping that we'd be able to work something out so that I could still keep the temp job, but I was also prepared to be let go.

The next day, I called my supervisor on my lunch break.  I brought her up to speed on how I felt and she told me that I was the best candidate that the client-company had seen and they were really keen to have me for the job.  Apparently, they had been conducting interviews for weeks and were about to settle on someone when I came along.  That did help me feel better about having taken the job in the first place, but I still was uncomfortable staying under false pretenses.  I asked my supervisor to tell the client-company and I agreed to whatever was decided.

At the end of the work day, the department head at the client-company came into the office I was working in and congratulated me on getting a job and told me that she was sorry that I couldn't stay longer and that they had to replace me.  I thanked her for providing such a nice work environment and gathered my stuff and left.

I called my supervisor at the temp agency and confirmed if I was let go (I was).  She told me that the client-company held no ill-will against me and wanted to have me back for other jobs should I become available.  I'm glad that I left such a good impression with them, but it still sucks that I don't have work now.  The temp-supervisor agreed to call me if there were any jobs that come up between now and December 1st.  She said that with Thanksgiving fast approaching, it's likely that people will call out at the last second and will need to be replaced, so just in case, I'll be dressed and ready to leave around 7:30 am every workday from now until I start my job.  Hopefully keeping the routine won't be in vain.

While I'm sad that I lost the temp job, I don't regret my actions.  I made a stand based on my beliefs and following the Spirit, so even the job is gone, I've gained more than I lost.

Cultural Divide

Yesterday evening, when Samuel got home from work, I greeted him and asked him how he was doing. His reply was a simple "good."  When I asked how his work day went, he again went the simple route: "busy."

I was preparing my dinner, so I was happy to keep our conversation brief, but I made a few comments about how a busy day can make the work day go faster.  He then brought up that he had had an awkward encounter with his manager.  On his lunch break, Samuel stepped outside to call his wife to find out about a court appearance that she made on his behalf (he needs to get some documents to help his immigration case in the US, so she was appearing in court to obtain the documents).  Unfortunately, she missed the appearance.  In Nigerian culture, when someone shows you disrespect, it is normal to shout and berate that person until they are more respectful, which is exactly what Samuel did when talking to his wife.  His manager overheard Samuel shouting in Yoruba and asked what happened.  When Samuel explained, the manager was not very understanding and made some comments about how Samuel was being abusive.  (By the way, they were able to schedule another court appearance for today, so everything should be fine.)

Hearing Samuel's story - and knowing a little bit more about his culture than the average American - I suggested that he try to not be so public with his personal issues, not because he was wrong, but because his actions could be misinterpreted.

From the other side of things, Samuel expressed his frustrations with someone that he met soon after moving to Maryland.  A member of our ward asked Samuel a lot of questions about his situation, so he went into great detail about what he was going through.  The member offered his condolences and went on his way.  To Samuel, a person would only ask personal questions if they were willing to offer help - either financial or emotional.  So when he shared such deeply intimate things, he was shocked to get little more than a "that's too bad."

And that's when Samuel starting learning more about American culture.  We tend to be friendly with one another, even to people that we just meet, but we ask personal questions as a way to get to know each other.  And if you think about it, that's pretty weird.  I mean, yeah, it makes sense to ask questions to get to know someone better, but doesn't it make more sense to make small talk about general topics ("You catch the game last night?") rather than more personal stuff ("I see you're wearing a wedding ring; got any kids?")?  Another problem is that when we ask these sorts of questions, we're not expecting the person to air their dirty laundry.  If you greet someone by asking them "How're you doing?", and they answer with anything other than a positive response, it feels super awkward.  You probably think that they're being rude by complaining, while they probably think that they're just being honest.

I expressed to Samuel that I am very careful about who I talk to about my own situation.  For example, it is mostly well known in my ward that I'm married but separated, but other than the Bishop, only two people know more than that.  Occasionally, someone will ask for more detail as to why we're separated (which I see as ridiculously rude), but I'll only ever give a vague answer like "it's complicated."

Samuel seems to be gaining a better understanding American culture (really, greater Baltimore-area culture), it's just unfortunate that a lot of his lessons are learned by making faux pas.  Hopefully that just means that the lessons will stick.

Unexpected Visitors

"Hello?" John called into his dark living room from his bedroom. "Who's there?"

A voice called back to him, though not one that he knew. "We don't mean to startle you, my good man. We are simply a pair of weary travelers that unfortunately wound up in your domicile."

Great, thought John, some crazy hobo's broken in and now he's lost. Should I call the cops? Do the cops even deal with crazy hobos? While he was trying to decide what to do next, he stepped out far enough to turn on the lights.

"Ah, splendid! You have electric lamps!" said a different voice, with what sounded like a Russian accent. John's eyes were adjusting to the light, but he could see that there were two men in the living room with him, but they didn't look like any homeless person he'd ever seen before. One man was very tall and thin with a dark mustache and was wearing a very old-looking suit. The other man looked like, well, he looked like Mark Twain.

John tried to raise the baseball bat he was carrying menacingly, but his expression was far too confused to intimidate anyone. "What's going on here? Did you guys come from a play or something? Why are you dressed like Mark Twain?"

The Mark Twain doppelganger smiled broadly. "You recognize me! That is quite nice to know. Tell me what year is it?"

John was thoroughly confused now. "Is this like a gag or something? Are you guys, like, making a video for YouTube or something?" he asked as he lowered the bat to his side.

"What my friend means," said the Russian-sounding guy, "is that we have recently traveled and are no longer aware of the date. Would you be so kind as to inform us?"

Completely at a loss for what was happening, John told them.

Mark Twain laughed "Ha ha! Over one hundred years later and my name is still well known!"

"Your pen name is well known," corrected the Russian-sounding man.

"Very well, but he recognized my face as well. I would say that's even more remarkable!"

"Just a second," John said, gathering back some determination. "What is going on? Why are you in my apartment?"

"Our sincere apologies," replied the tall man who's accent wasn't quite Russian, John decided. "My name is Nikola Tesla. You appear to already know of my companion. We were conducting an experiment in my lab in New York City in the year 1896 and we were transported through space and time."

John rolled his eyes. "You expect me to believe that you time-traveled here?"

"The choice to believe our tale or not is entirely yours," said Mark Twain, "but your rejection of our explanation will not change the facts."

John thought for a moment. He decided that if he had to deal with crazy people, he might as well have some fun. "Out of all of history, why'd you come to my apartment at 1 in the morning?"

Nikola explained: "In truth, this is not our first journey through time. We were attempting to arrive back to our starting time, but we appear to have missed our target, but by only about one hundred years this time. I am confident that the next attempt will be successful."

John smiled a little. "It's starting to make sense now. You guys are high, right? You guys on mushrooms or somethi--" John was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking in the bathroom. "There's more of you?" he asked as he walked quickly towards the bathroom. As he walked, Nikola called behind him, "If there's another traveler, it is purely by accident!"

John opened the bathroom door and saw a guy in his late teens or early twenties, wearing a dress. All around him on the floor were shards of glass that used to be the bathroom mirror. The man looked up, clearly shocked. Nikola and Mark appeared behind John, peering over his shoulders. Without turning around, John addressed the two men to his rear. "A friend of yours?"

"Not quite," Mark said. "That is a young man we recruited to help us when we were last stranded in ancient Greece. He can become very distracted by his own reflection. For this reason, I believe that he is the one that the myth of Narcissus was based on."

"Okay," John said. "Let's get him out of here before he cuts himself trying to make out with a shard of broken glass."

~~~

Wide awake, John was pacing back and forth across the living room floor. "So let me get this straight. Nik, you worked for Thomas Edison and he stole a bunch of your ideas. Later, you started you own lab and became friends with Mark - sorry, Sam. You two were hanging out and tried an experiment when you were transported to sixteenth century England. You tried to duplicate the experiment, but ended up somewhere in France during the Crusades. You tried again and wound up in ancient Greece where you picked up this guy by mistake. And now you think you can make it back to where you started if you try one more time?"

"Yes, very good summary," said Sam from his seat on the sofa.

"Why will this time work when the other times just sent you off all over the place?"

"With each attempt," answered Nik, who was sitting next to Sam, "we obtain better control over the place and date of our destination. For example, we finally made it back to the United States, though Philadelphia is clearly not New York. Also, this was our first successful forward leap in time rather than go backwards again. Even if we don't make it exactly to where and when we are attempting, we will surely be much closer than now."

John nodded his head, thinking. "And the equipment you build to make these time jumps gets destroyed every time?"

"Correct. However, with your materials and appliances in this, our future, we should be ready much faster this time."

John looked over to Narss (as he had started calling him), who was sitting on an ottoman and was occupied taking selfies with John's cell phone. "And what about him? Are you going to take him back to his time first?"

"As much as I hate to say it," Sam said, "we can't risk getting lost again. We'll have to take him with us to our time. I'm certain that his family will miss him, but they surely won't miss all the time he took watching his reflection. That aside, we can provide him a good life in our time, one much better than he would have lived in his own."

"I can probably convince my sister to adopt him," offered Nik. "She is very caring, even to strangers."

John stopped pacing and looked at Sam and Nik. "Let's pretend that I believe what you're saying. Why should I help you?"

Sam stood up and looked John squarely in the eye while placing a hand firmly on his shoulder. "Why, for the adventure! Just think, no one in your time will have ever met a time-traveler. Not only have you already met three, but you can now help us get back to our own time. No other man in history will be able to say that!"

"Except for Narcissus," pointed out Nik.

Sam shot an annoyed glare at his friend. "Well, no other man will be able to say that and won't also be stranded in another time."

"How much time do you need to build your equipment again?" asked John.

"I expect that it should take only about one or two days," answered Nik.

~~~

Nearly three weeks later and the three men were finally ready to leave. Nik's estimation had been based on what technologies he assumed would be available in the year 2014. Even so, John was impressed with what they had accomplished. A couple of old TVs and a microwave from a thrift store, along with various odd bits of wire and parts from a few calculators, and Nik and Sam had supposedly built a time machine. Now, here in the parking lot behind the closed-down movie theater, it was time for the moment of truth.

"Thank you again for your kindness, John," said Sam. "This has been our best trip as of yet."

"Agreed," Nik said while still making some final adjustments to the machine.

"I still don't know why you two didn't want to look anything up on the internet," said John, "to see how things worked out for you."

"Knowing the future won't stop me from dying one day," Sam said, "but it would make me fret over each moment until the final day. I'd rather enjoy the time I have, however long that may be."

"And I," Nik said, turning to face John, "do not wish to lose out on the experience of discovering new ideas and concepts on my own."

"Beside that," Sam said, "Narcissus has been using your machine to view this inter-net the whole time, so we'd hardly have a chance ourselves even if we'd wanted it."

"I meant to ask about that," John said, looking over at Narss. "What's he been looking at?"

Nik called Narss over and said a few words in another language to him. After a reply, Nik translated. "He said that he very much enjoys something called the 'Book of Faces' and how anyone can take photographs of himself to share with others. He is especially impressed with some young woman named Paris. He has learned a lot from her about loving one's own self. Also, he says that he very much enjoys moving pictures of cats."

John nodded his head. "It looks like he really understands the internet. Did he see anything he didn't like?"

Nik said a few more words to Narss, whose reply was much shorter than the previous one. "He said that a man named Khan-yay West needs to get over himself."

With that, the three men each took turns shaking John's hand before grasping the coiled-wire handles that allowed them to interface with the machine. John stepped back to what Nik had assured him was a safe distance and waved good-bye. The other men waved back as Nik pressed the initiation button. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and John had to shield his eyes with his hands to keep from being blinded. After a few seconds, the light faded and John lowered his hands.

He had to admit, he was impressed. The three men were gone, along with about half of the machine. What remained of the machine was partially on fire. Everything looked about how Nik and Sam had predicted.

After such witnessing the operation of a legitimate time machine, and spending nearly a month with legendary historical figures, John summed up his feelings: "Man, that was weird."

Easy-Peasy

Remember that temp job that I had to interview for?  I interviewed for it on Friday.  As soon as I was done, I drove to the temp agency's office to drop off a form that they needed to have on file.  The drive took less than ten minutes and by the time I got there, the office I had interviewed had already called to say that they wanted me for the job.

There is one downside: I wasn't allowed to say that I had found a permanent job and I'd only be doing data-entry for them for three weeks.  While I'll be doing work for this company, I technically count as a service provided by the temp agency, which is my real employer.  I mention this because I was advised by my case-handler to not mention when I'll have to be out of there.  The reasoning is that it's better for the client-company to get an over-qualified worker for a few weeks than be stuck with someone mediocre the entire time.  That is not my preference for handling things, but it wasn't my call.

Ultimately, I see the temp job as a great blessing during this last leg of unemployment. Hopefully I'll live up to the hype.

Busy Weekend

After my exciting news that I have a job starting in December, I decided that it made sense to occupy myself in the meantime.  Starting today, I've got quite a bit planned out.

Today, I have a couple of big things scheduled.  Firstly, I have to visit the testing center to deliver a sample for the required drug test.  I've been to this particular facility before and they're usually pretty quick, though they can get backed up.  Secondly, I'll be going to another job interview, this time for a temp job.  The temp agency I'm using is the one that I've worked with in the past and they really like me and the work that I've done and they told me that the interview is just a formality and that I should start on Monday.

Saturday morning, I'm attending the temple for Ward Temple Day.  I made plans with some friends from the ward before I even knew that I had the job with Danfoss, but it seems like pretty good timing for me to offer my thanks.  Afterwards, as soon as I can get home and changed, I'll be going back to the Simciks to help with (what should be) the final steps to close their pool for the winter.

Finally on Sunday, I have my Sunday School lesson to deliver and choir practice to attend.  Those are both things that I would normally do on Sunday, but they seemed worth mentioning considering how busy the prior two days will be.

All told, that's a fairly full weekend, but one that I'm looking forward to.

Here's wishing you an enjoyable weekend!

A Job Well Earned

I got a job!

I'll be working as a technical writer for Danfoss, a Danish-based manufacturer of HVAC components.  I'll be working mostly in the marketing department, but there will be other areas where my skills will be employed as well.

One thing about this job is that it really feels earned.  Not that all of my past work experiences have prepared me for this position, but that I had to go through a lot to get hired.  Let me explain.

About two weeks ago, I was contacted by the head of HR about the job after seeing my resume posted on a job board.  She interviewed me over the phone, and while it went okay, I felt like I've done a better job of selling myself in the past.  Even so, the next week she contacted me to set up another phone interview, this time a conference call with the marketing manager and the product manager. That interview went much better.  While the marketing manager seemed to be happy with my responses, the product manager was much more enthusiastic: on multiple occasions he told me that he really liked what I said or how I described my approach to problem-solving.  Later that week, I was called in for an actual in-person interview, which is where things really start to get weird.

At the interview, I met with the head of HR again.  She had a few more questions for me that seemed like pretty standard stuff and she seemed happy with what I had to say (she was really hard to read just based on her voice, which is why I didn't think our first phone interview had been that great).  When we finished up, the marketing manager came in.  Similarly, she had a few more questions, but most of the big stuff had already been covered over the phone.  However, I was able to ask some questions to get a better feel on what was expected of me.  Once she left, I had another interview, this time the accounts manager - finally, someone new.  He asked me the most in-depth questions about my ability as a writer, even showing me a current brochure the company was using and asking me what I would change and why.  Understandably, I spent the most time with him.  Finally, I met with (surprise!) the product manager, who basically just gave me a pep talk about how he believed in me and how he was planning on recommending me for the job.  Well, knowing that I was getting one vote out of four was pretty nice.  In the end, I was interviewing for a little over three-and-a-half hours.

When I was driving home, I felt really good about the interviews.  I certainly had been "on" during the interviews, but it was more than that: it was a prompting from the Spirit.  It wasn't anything as solid as "you got the job" so much as an acknowledgement that I had done well and I hadn't been alone.  Even before recognizing the Spirit, I said a prayer thanking the Lord for doing well.

When I got home, I emailed the accounts manager some writing samples that he asked for.  I used a couple of documents that I had worked on at CAS Severn (and had received permission to use).  He emailed me back that night saying that what I had provided was exactly the kind of style that he wanted to see.  Then he asked for some creative writing samples.  This is literally the first time that has ever happened - good thing I've been writing so much this past year!  I wanted to show off different styles, so I sent him "Eloise and Thaddeus" (which has no dialogue), "Contact" (which is a radio transcript), and "Full Moon" (which is horror-themed).  I was told that I would probably hear back by Monday or Tuesday of this week.

Monday came and I had another interview with another company (the one that I had the webcam interview with).  There was just something off about the whole experience.  The answers that had gone over so well with the Danfoss people didn't really work with these folks.  Maybe all of the phone interviews had prepared me better?  Whatever the reason, I was dissatisfied with the experience.

The rest of the day passed with no contact from Danfoss.  I started worrying that maybe the short stories I had submitted were taken to be offensive - in the satirical "Eloise and Thaddeus," it's mentioned that Eloise is no longer attractive now that she has a tan and in "Contact," one of the characters uses the word "Jap," which is a slur.  I know that I wasn't being racist, but would they?

Finally, yesterday morning, I got a call from the head of HR, offering me the job.  I was super-excited, but I asked for some time to make my decision.  She gave me until Thursday to think about it.  In my excitement, I called or texted a lot of friends and family (if I didn't contact you, I apologize).  Once I was done receiving congratulations, I decided to get to the reason I asked for extra time: prayer.  Even before I could ask the question, I could feel the answer.  This was a good job, a job that I was supposed to have and not just an "in-between" job.  I called back and delivered my acceptance (I also contacted the other company and told them that I should not be considered since I had accepted a job elsewhere).

And while this whole experience is pretty exciting, there is one downside: I don't start until December 1st.  The problem is just preliminary stuff: I have to receive the paperwork in the mail, I have to have a drug test, they have to set up my desk and order my computer, etc.  And about the time all of that is done, it's the week of Thanksgiving.  I understand that the timing for me starting is lousy and why they wanted to push it back, but it still sucks.  Even so, the worry of where I'll be working has been solved and I can look forward to bright future with Danfoss.

And thank you to everyone who has been providing prayers and words of encouragement during this difficult time.  It was wonderful to know that I had people on my side.

Trick or Treat

For Halloween, I headed south to the Larsen home.  I stayed at home to pass out candy while Ian and the kids went out to collect more.

Henry and Clara as Spider-Man and Queen Elsa, respectively.

Henry was especially excited to go out trick-or-treating, though Clara was enthusiastic, too.

Their neighborhood only allowed trick-or-treating for a couple of hours, so I expected a steady stream of kiddies from 6 o'clock on, but we only had a handful of visitors for the whole first hour.  That said, once we got to 7 o'clock, things really picked up.

I was surprised at how old a lot of the groups were.  I think there were about three or four groups that were made up of thirteen to fourteen year old girls, which is really pushing it for free candy collecting.

There weren't that many repeats as far as costumes go.  I saw one other Elsa (Clara being the first), but that's it.  I did see a lot of superheroes - though whether that was because I pay attention to that sort of thing or because they were the most prevalent, I can't say.  I will say that the older kids seemed to be more creative with their costumes, which I appreciate.  One girl had her face intricately painted in a Día de los Muertos style.  The creepiest costumes, from my perspective, was a teen couple (probably about fifteen or sixteen) dressed as Little Red Ridding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf - it's creepy because it's a couple's costume and they're too young for that nonsense.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that a lot of visitors complimented me on the pumpkins out front:

 

Batman and his nemesis, Queen Elsa.

Ian really knocked it out of the park on these pumpkins.  While it's been years since I last attempted to carve a pumpkin, I do remember that they aren't the easiest medium to work in, so his accomplishments are even more impressive.

The kids each had a single piece of candy and then got ready for bed.  Ian and I stayed up and hung out.  I wasn't planning on staying over, but after I let my eyes rest (my contacts were bothering me), Ian woke me up at around 2 in the morning and told me to crash in the guest room.  I was happy to oblige.

In the morning, Henry came into my room to wake me up.  He was excited that I stayed over and wanted to hang out.  I was not ready to get out of bed, so I had him climb in next to me.  A little bit later, Clara came and joined us.  I had the kids take turns playing games on my tablet while I tried to go back to sleep, but that was futile since all children everywhere are incapable for staying quiet for long.  Eventually one of the cats hoped in bed, so I gave up and decided it was time for breakfast.

I led the kids into the dinning room and served up a fancy breakfast of cold cereal.  There were requests for waffles, but I thought that making a mess in someone else's kitchen uninvited was a bad idea, even if I did clean up afterwards.  I played It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown for the kids while I got my own food ready.  After everyone was finished eating and the video ended, I told the kids to go get dressed for the day while I cleaned up from breakfast.

It was around this time that Ian wandered out of his room.  I told him that I had fed the kids and the animals (two cats and a dog) and that the kids were getting dressed.  He was impressed that everything had already been taken care of.  I told him that I figured that he probably didn't get too many opportunities to sleep in, so I wanted to give him the chance this once.  He agreed that he rarely gets to sleep in and expressed his gratitude that I allowed him to once again by taking care of the kids.  It wasn't too much later that I said my good-byes and headed home.

All around, it was a fun Halloween and I'm happy that I helped out in more ways than one.