Slow Week

A week at work for me often consists of working on multiple of projects that all have immediate deadlines.  Like, I have time to get everything done, but my long-term projects always get pushed aside.  Well, this week has been different.  I went through my calendar and realized that I was all caught up.  It was kind of weird, but in a nice way.  I've been spending most of my week updating a guide to writing in English that I'm creating -- it's a big project and will probably take a year or two to complete.

The one down side to having more time is that, without the sense of rushing to meet the deadlines, the days go by a lot slower.  But I'm not complaining, because I know it won't be long before I have to start working on several projects at once again.

Danglish

Since I work for a Danish company, a lot of the documents that I'm asked to edit are written in what the people in my office playfully refer to as "Danglish."  For the most part, Danglish is just poorly written English, though I have notice one characteristic: missing definite articles.

I found it strange that definite articles would be dropped, but indefinite articles would mostly appear in their proper places.  Curious, I looked up Danish grammar on Wikipedia.  Interestingly, indefinite articles are separate words from their nouns, but most definite articles are simply suffixes attached at the end of their noun.  With this in mind, it makes sense that native Danish-speakers would forget to add a definite article when one is warranted, because in Danish, most definite articles don't exist.

With what I learned by reading the crowd-sourced article, I'm actually toying with the idea of convincing my next manager to get Danfoss to pay for Danish lessons for me, so I can better anticipate the mistakes that will be made and, more importantly, be better able to describe to Danish speakers why my edits are necessary.  Plus, it'll make pronouncing tough Danish words easier, or at least less humorous.

Job Satisfaction

Since I am now the go-to writer in my office, I was tasked this week with editing an article written for a trade magazine.  I was happy to oblige since it meant that I got to have an actual assignment, but I was surprised at the writer's style choices.

You see, while I was never given a company style guide (and had been told that we didn't have one), I went digging around on the company's intranet and found something close: a writer's guide.  The guide didn't teach me anything new, but it did give me some clear guidance on stylistic matters.  I bring this up because it was pretty clear that the article's writer had not seen the writer's guide.

For example, the writer's guide recommends using short sentences whenever possible.  I agree with this technique and often use it myself.  This article, however, was written with overly-long and complex sentence that were cumbersome to read at best and hard to follow at worst.

Another problem was repeated word usage.  In technical documents, even articles, it's important to establish a vocabulary and use it the same way each time, but only for the technical parts.  Since the article was about the benefits of different refrigerants, each fluid would need to be introduced and then only referred to by that name (you shouldn't bring up the trademarked "Puron" and then call it by its generic name "R-410A").  That said, the other words are not locked in and the writer seemed to not have a lot of creativity when it came to transitions and used the same two throughout the article.

Now, I don't fault the writer of this article for making these mistakes (the second issue wasn't even covered in the writer's guide), but they stood out to me.

This story is just an example of why my position in the company is necessary and why I already like my job so much.

Played Like a Fiddle

Last week, Ian and I were making plans to meet up so that we could visit with our sisters, Margot and Paige (don't worry, I'll post about that later on).  As we were corresponding through email, I asked Ian if I should bring a lunch, or just eat ahead of time. This was his response:

just eat a head of time.

Seeing the typo, I shot back with this:

Time comes in clusters called "heads" and they're edible? Where does one procure a head of time and what is the proper manner in which to prepare it for consumption?

I made it clear that this was meant as harmless teasing and closed the email.  After we met up, he referenced my joke about time coming in "heads."  I told him that I meant no harm in it, just that I couldn't resist pointing out his typo.  This is when Ian revealed that it was an intentional typo that he included to entice me to correct it.  It was bait and I swallowed it.

Here I was thinking that I was playing a joke on my brother when in reality, he was playing a joke on me.  Well played, sir.  Well played.

Sometimes the English Language Makes Me Sad

Is it necessary to include memes as official parts of the English language?  I mean, I know that the language changes and evolves, but do we really need "mansplain" as a word?

For those that aren't aware, the Oxford English Dictionary (the closest thing our language has to a presiding body) recently published new words that will now be included in their official dictionary.  Some words or phrases make perfect sense, like "Deep Web" and "octocoptor" since they describe actual things and are not simply a form of slang.  I'll even go for "tech-savvy" and "douchebag" since those words have each existed for well over a decade, so even if they're just slang words, they're slang words that everyone knows.

But "YOLO?"  That acronym didn't exist until three years ago, even if the phrase its abbreviating has been around for much longer.  And "cray" and "adorbs" are just really dumb abbreviations and portmanteaus like "listicle" and the aforementioned "mansplain" are, well, portmanteaus, so they shouldn't be official words.

Some of these words ("YOLO" in particular) seem like the OED is jumping the gun a bit.  Do you remember the Spice Girls' big hit "Wannabe" from the 90s?  It had a word in the chorus "zigazig-ha" that was utter nonsense.  Well, the Spice Girls were such a phenomenon that "zigazig-ha" was added to the OED.  I haven't heard anyone say that word.  Ever.  Now, the OED is a British publication and the Spice Girls were a British musical group, so maybe that word lasted longer in England, but I can't imagine it's still in use today.  It seemed like a dumb inclusion back then just like some of the new words now.

And before anyone brings it up, yes, I know that dictionaries act as a kind of historical document of language - I really enjoy looking up archaic meanings to common words - but, again, some of these words just seem like old, out of touch lexicographers are trying to prove that they're still cool and hip and are over-compensating.  Or maybe with the internet, English is evolving faster than I'm comfortable with and I'm just an old man that refuses that get with the times.

Now get off my lawn!

Asking the Right Questions

Samuel has been working part-time as a dishwasher ever since he got his work visa.  He is qualified for better work, but he hasn't had any luck find something else within walking distance, so he's still a dishwasher.  Since starting work there, he's complained about how the managers haven't paid him all of his wages yet.  I told him that he would need to review his pay stub before he complained to anyone, to make sure that he had a claim to make, but I encouraged him to confront the managers to make sure that he gets paid everything he's earned.

As it turns out, Samuel didn't understand how earning an hourly wage works.  He's explained to me that in his homeland, everyone is paid a salary.  When you start work, they tell you how much you'll make each week and cut you a check for that amount.  I thought I had explained the basics to him (and how for a labor-intensive job like washing dishes, earning a wage is actually better than a salary), but I apparently was still making some assumptions about what he knew.  The idea that he wouldn't get paid for his thirty minute break was brand new to him and one of the reasons that he kept complaining that "they don't pay me!"  The bigger issue, however, was that he didn't understand the delay between a pay period ending and actually being paid.  Once I saw that missing piece it was easy to explain that every business needs time to process the hours worked and take out the right amount of taxes.  He saw that hours were missing from his paycheck and couldn't understand why he was being told that they would carry over to the next check.  He simply saw it as an excuse to not pay him.

Living with someone from a foreign country has been an interesting exercise in communication.  I can't use idioms and I try to cut down on using slang (though, like a true Californian, I never stop saying "dude").  On top of that, I just learned that when I think I've explained something thoroughly, I may have left out some vital piece of information.  Even so, I have it easy: Samuel has an even tougher time recognizing when he misunderstands a situation, so I do my best to help out where I can.

Beautiful Words

Pardon me while I indulge myself on a favorite topic of mine.

I was thinking recently about how amazing it is that we have written language.  With written language, not only do we have a way to communicate with someone who isn't right in front of us, we also can lock words into place.  Our memories are unreliable and it is easy to, not only forget things, but to remember things that didn't happen.  For example, I remember seeing the traffic crosswalk sign show the symbol for "walk" when I was hit by the bus, but according to all other testimonies, that's incorrect.  When we write things down, we have a permanent record of what actually happened.  There have been multiple times when I've gone back through a journal or this blog and reread entries and been reminded of events that I had long since forgotten.

Not only does this mean that we can communicate to ourselves in the future, but we can relay information to people who haven't even been born yet.  In 1 Nephi, the Lord expresses the importance of the scriptures to Nephi, to the point of commanding him to slay Laban in order to obtain the Plates of Brass (though, yes, according to the law at the time, Nephi had every right to slay Laban for stealing his property).  The word of the Lord existed because His prophets had written down revelations they had received.  The scriptures could not exist today without written language.

Since we know that Adam and Eve had written language, that means that written language was created by God.  And with it, what an amazing tool we have!

I'm sure that it's not terribly surprising I would contemplate something we all take for granted (myself included) since I've dedicated my life to the written word, but it's still nice to take time and appreciate what a beautiful thing that we have with writing.

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.

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.

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."

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.

Pilcrow

As a writer, I pay close attention to the formatting of a piece of writing.  Spacing, kerning, font choices, and more all jump out to me when I look at the page.  Engineers, however, don't pay the same attention that I do.  That's fine since if they did, I wouldn't have a job.  But, when I'm editing something (heck, even when I drafting a something for the first time), I like a little extra help.  For that, I turn to my friend the pilcrow or paragraph mark (¶).

Pilcrows are useful since I don't have to guess at how many times the author hit "Enter," I can see it.  What's frustrating is that apparently I am the only person in my entire office that uses them.  Every time I've asked for a hand with something I'm writing, I have to turn off the pilcrows (or at least, make them invisible) or my coworker will be confused about what's wrong with my screen.  I've just gotten in the habit of hitting Ctrl+* (the shortcut in MS Word) before calling anyone over to my computer.

If you're like, though, you may wonder why we use a stylized, backwards P to represent paragraphs.  It's not a stylized P, but rather a C.  Originally, when punctuation was first being experimented with in English, a lot of Latin was still in use.  The C was short for capitulum, Latin for "chapter."  (Incidentally, the word paragraph comes from the Greek word paragraphos, which means anything other than the main text.  Think marginal notes or asides to the audience.)  As time went on, vertical lines were added to the C and the void space of the C was filled in.  Eventually, the ¶ or pilcrow was born.  The name may be from the symbol looking like a "plucked crow" or a corrupted form of the French pelagraphe which means "paragraph."

Whatever you call it, I encourage you to make pilcrows your friend.  Think of it this way: even if you don't see them, you still use them.  Wouldn't you rather see what's already there anyway?