An Honorable Profession

Well, I got a job.
Yesterday afternoon I received a call from a tutoring agency that I had interviewed with, and they offered me a position as a writing and reading tutor. They are a start-up company, and work won't begin for a few weeks. I am also unlikely to get many hours. But my hourly rate is excellent, and now I have something to look forward to, which makes the days seem a little less endless. I'm still hoping for something more, but it's a good start, a very good start.

A day in the life

I awake at 7:00 AM because Darling Wife leaves for work at about a quarter past, and I like to see her before she goes. Besides, I used to be a morning person before late night studies, city life, and a night-owl roommate altered my sleeping habits. I still feel best if I get an early start, so I rise at 7:00, though I have nowhere particular to go.

After spending several minutes uncovering the birdcages and tending to seed trays, I read the local paper cover-to-cover as I eat breakfast. This is something I have longed to do for years. I enjoy staying abreast of national and world events, and I feel closer to my community when I read the local news and advertisements. DW used to read the paper on her bus-ride to work when we lived in Boston, but I walked the few blocks to school and work. I was seldom well-informed. When we moved to CA, I began to take the daily paper, but I hadn't time to read it. It piled up until it was all horribly out of date, then I would purge and start the pile again. I thought it would be wonderful to actually read them now that I have made my escape from the tower. But alas, as with so many things in life, it was better to want it than to have it. I am usually aware of any major news before I read the paper, and small news doesn't change much in a day. Furthermore, reading about something every day makes me lose interest in it. But I read it nevertheless.

I finish breakfast and the paper at around 8:30 AM and move into "the study" to check my e-mail accounts. It is a matter of minutes to delete the spam. I have few if any substantive messages, but if I received one, I answer it immediately. Having finished with e-mail, I read the blogs of a few friends and check the job listings on the university, the city, and the county websites. This used to occupy some time, but no longer. It only takes five or ten minutes to scan for a listing I haven't already seen. On the rare occasion that I find something promising, I shoot off a resume and wonder if I will ever hear anything back. Then I wander onto random websites, anything I can think of, really. I just want to pass some time. I try to remember things I have wanted to look up or places I might like to research. Somehow, this manages to vaporize more time than I ever expect, but I never feel like it was time well spent.

At around 10:30 AM, I make up the bed and clean up last night's dishes from the kitchen counter. I contemplate sweeping the floor or undertaking other tasks but usually decide to hold them over another day. Why not?

11:00 AM is usually when I get around to my daily work out. Sometimes I do yoga, others low-impact aerobics. And some days I ride my bike to the library instead. Despite my desire to be healthier, I am at the point where it is a struggle to convince myself to go through with the workout. It has not yet reached the point of habit or need, and it has been long enough that the newness and excitement has worn off. Usually I go through with it, if only to stave off boredom.

11:30 AM takes me into the shower. (Must remember to use the pumice stone and foot scrub.) Do I need to shave today? Probably. Do I have to? Not really. Most of the time I skip it.

Noon, check e-mail again. Then, aimlessly kill more time on Youtube or some other pointless website. Or make a blog post. Think about lunch. Perhaps I will eat. Or maybe I'll just grab a peach or something in a bit.

At 1:30 PM, I move back into the living room, check on the birds, and continue my project to recopy and reorganize the recipe-card box. Sometimes the mail has come, and I can waste a little time going over it.

DW should come home at around 3:30 or 4:00 PM, so I begin to think about dinner. I wonder whether I should start cooking, but I usually continue with my project until she walks in at about 4:30 PM. We each discuss the day we've had and decide what to have for dinner.

At 5:15 PM, I cook dinner; we eat; and then we lounge at the table reminiscing about something or simply unable to work up the energy to rise.

By 7:30 PM I'm tired of sitting with dirty plates in front of me, so I clear the table. DW wanders into the study and slowly circles work that she needs to complete. Eventually she may land on some bit and do a little while I put in a video (primetime shows are still in reruns) and resume my project.

At 8:30 or 9:00 PM, I turn the lights off over the birdcages and try to get the little ones to quiet down for the night. (It's easier to cover them up later if they have already begun to roost.)

DW goes to bed at 10:00 or 10:30 PM, so I check my e-mail one last time before covering the birdcages and joining her. I read until about 11:30 PM, and then I settle into sleep myself.

Can you imagine spending months or years full of such trivial sh**? I can't. Well, I just heard the sound of the mailman dropping off today's junk mail. It's one of the highlights of my day. Time to go sort and discard.

Let me outta here!

OK, so I'm really starting to get tired of being home alone all day. I don't know how "stay at home moms" or "out of work dads" do it. I guess it's different if one has children at home. And I suppose there are some people who just enjoy being home all the time. But I am not one of them. Never have been. And I knew that this day would come; I just didn't know when. It's actually taken longer than I thought.

It's not that I don't have anything to do. There's plenty to do. I could mow the lawn, try to fix the irrigation system, patch and paint some nail holes in the livingroom wall, etc., etc. And I have shelves full of books I haven't had time to read. I am not a person who cannot imagine enough to keep myself occupied. It's just that after weeks of doing those things, I'm tired of them. I want out of this house. But I can't just go for walks or hang out at the library either because I know there are things at home I should be doing. I'd be happy to ignore those things for the sake of a useful activity, but I can't skive off for no good reason.

So, I need a good reason. :)

Still hoping to get a job soon, I am not in a position to undertake a commitment to anything, like volunteer work, but I'm open to other suggestions if anyone has any.

Birds of a Feather

If you've been following my recent posts, you may be expecting something about a church visit yesterday, but I am afraid I must disappoint you. For one thing, it turns out that summer is not a good time to scout churches in a college town. Every one we've visited has had a guest speaker because the pastor has been out of town. In addition, many of the church's normal activities and services have been suspended until school starts back next month. Who knew God was on an academic calendar?

Regardless, we would have gone had not we had an"incident" on Saturday. You see, some months ago, a friend asked me to look after her finches while she was out of town. Darling Wife accompanied me to care for the wee beasties on several occasions and fell in love with their adorable appearance and lively chatter. We've wanted a pet for sometime, but we aren't "cat people." Aquariums are nice, but they are mostly decorative; fish are not exactly interactive pets. And while we would both like a dog, we are not currently in a position to acquire or care for one. We'd never considered fowl. But DW thought about them while we were on our mountain adventure and declared she wanted some when we returned. We researched varieties, lifespans, needs, costs, and obligations and purchased cage, supplies, and four Orange-Cheeked Waxbill finches.

They are the cutest little critters.










Their names are Sal, Ro, Goddy, and Helga. They paired up immediately: Sal with Goddy and Helga with Ro. Sal and Helga didn't get along well, but they stayed clear of each other, so all was peaceful and happy. We observed them awhile and adjusted the perches and food to accomodate their preferences, and they began to look healthier and prettier every day.

Then, Sal and Helga began to bicker. It was occasional at first and seemed to occur when Sal would sing or exhibit signs of courtship behavior. As the weeks passed, Sal became more expressive, and Helga became more agitated. They began to quarrel, flying wildly about the cage, knocking each other down, and scaring the guano out of the other two. Our little flock was divided.

The manager of the local pet store told me this was a mating conflict. He assured me that it was temporary as mating season is almost over, and they will probably be permanently bonded by the time it comes around again. However, we would need to separate the agitators for the next month or so.

We bought a new cage and prepared to segregate the flock. This is not an easy task. They are fast and do not like to be touched. Plus with the exception of Helga, the other three finches look almost exactly alike. We tell them apart by personality and behavior. When they are madly flying around the cage trying to escape a grasping hand, there is no way to determine who is who.

We decided to try to remove Helga and Ro because Sal was the one trying to mate, and we thought it would be best to leave him and Goddy in the cage they know. We also determined to aim for Ro first because we could both keep our eyes on him from the beginning, and if we successfully caught him, we could get Helga afterwards.

After much frantic chasing, I managed to capture one of the tiny birds and put him in the other cage. Bad luck, it was Goddy. This was not surprising as Goddy is the worst flyer of the four and tends to become shocked and still when scared. So now we had to try to nab Sal, which would be difficult; he's the best flyer of the bunch. And sure enough, I ended up with Ro. Goddy was still stunned, so we thought we'd grab him, put him back in the main cage, and then try for Helga.

But it turns out that the space between the bars of the new cage was too wide, and as I attempted to secure Goddy, Ro squeezed through the bars and flew down the hallway. This would never do! We had to exchange the new cage. But first, we must get them all back into the old cage.

A search of the rooms located Ro in the window of our bedroom. Despite our worst fears, he proved easy to catch, and we returned him to a much relieved Helga. But as we were trying to recapture Goddy, he made a bid for freedom as well, this time pushing past my arm and out the cage door. But as I said, he's a poor flyer and didn't make it far. We caught him at the glass door in the living room.

You can imagine how upset DW and I are at this point. Birds are flying everywhere, and our nerves are shot. We exchanged the cage for a finch flight cage that is not as attractive as the last one but is better designed for our feathered friends. We also bought a net. Returning home, we went at it again, and this time we got Helga first. And then by pure accident, we managed to get Ro as well. Success!

Sal is put out that his friends and enemies have been removed. He calls to them across the room and sticks his head out of the bars nearest their cage. He also grows quiet and still if they sing or call back in any way. But beyond that, everything seems to be fine. Helga and Ro are more active in their new cage than they were in the community cage. We think that Sal's actions were an attempt to steal Ro from Helga, and the pair seem more confident without this fluttering threat.

So, what we thought were cheap, low-maintenance, unobtrusive pets have now multiplied into two cages, twice as much work, twice as much money, and chattering birds from both sides of our living room. And our entire Saturday disappeared with nothing accomplished but the restoration of peace within our bird community.

Given all of this, we were simply not up for church yesterday. We hope to be able to explore a new church experience this weekend.

Rolling Stone

The old saying is not really true. I've moved a lot over the past decade, but I've gathered plenty of moss as I've rolled along. Each place I've lived has given me memorable experiences, good friends, and new possessions. I don't regret any of the moves I've made. But I am reaching the point at which I think it would be nice to stay still awhile, perhaps for more than awhile. I long for more than just moss; I'd like a nice garden with trees and flowers.

These thoughts played through my mind as I read of a friend's preparations for moving this week in her blog. It is so nice not to need to pack up my things, empty out the place I've called home for the past year, struggle to re-personalize another space. Heck, I'm not even finished with this one yet.

But there is another thought swirling around in the recess of my brain...

When you live in a college town, 50% of the population consists of student renters, and August 31st/September 1st is "Moving Day." For weeks before and after this date, moving trucks and moving pods appear all over town as people pack up to leave or arrive at their new homes. So many are going to begin new lives, and so many more are coming to begin new lives. There is a spirit of excitement and freshness in the air that is almost palpable as undergraduates and their parents swarm all over town and campus, buying supplies and finding their way around. And somehow, I feel left out.

Shall We Gather at the...er... Electronic Display Device

As an INTJ, I usually find myself measuring an issue by its practical ability to accomplish a goal and its efficiency in doing so, not its abstract potential or popularity. Now of course, defining the goal is not necessarily an easy task; therefore, I often advocate something that other people might deem inefficient or backward-looking, but that is because many people don't think about all consequences. People can often be bamboozled by what seems good in some respects but causes major difficulties in others. And frequently people become engrossed in something because it is popular or fresh, regardless of whether it is a real and complete improvement. So, while I have little patience for those who insist on maintaining a system that does not work for the sake of tradition*, you can surely see that I have no tolerance for change for change's sake. Just because something is new and exciting makes it no better than being old and familiar. The important thing is will it work.

Case in point, this weekend Darling Wife and I attended a Presbyterian church. It was a new and interesting experience for both of us. The church was an old one downtown with an established congregation and a historic building complete with vaulted ceilings, pews, and a fantastic organ. In the rack on the back of each pew, there were "pew Bibles" and handsome hymnals. But these were not used during the service. Instead, a projector screen was pulled down in front of their lovely stained glass window of Jesus knocking at the door, and the lyics to the songs for the service were displayed on it using PowerPoint.

This was not the first time we had witnessed this practice. In fact, it is a common sight these days. Frankly, I do not understand it. I looked over the hymnals; they were not old, worn, or out of date. At some time in the fairly recent past, the church no doubt spent thousands of dollars on them. But now it apparently feels a pressing need to come up to the times and embrace new technology. So, it undoubtedly spent thousands more on a laptop, projector, screen, and PowerPoint program, and they made an announcement during the service that they were looking to hire someone to create the slides for each service in the future.

Why, I ask you? Why make this change? Is there some reason that I am overlooking that makes the projections better or more efficient than the hymnals. Sure, it saves time because people don't have to shuffle through the book during the service to find "Hymn #450", but surely this is a minor improvement that does not justify the effort and expense. Do the PowerPoint slides somehow bring one closer to God? I can't imagine how. (Truth be told, I had not brought my glasses, so I couldn't read the $!&% slide. So, I was not feeling particularly godly at the moment.)

Now, I am not a Luddite. I am not against technology, per se. Indeed, I think that PowerPoint is a wonderful tool, especially when one already has the material one wants to display in a digital format or when one will need to create the material using a digital format. It is often the easiest method, and provides the opportunity for some sophisticated visual effects. But that does not mean that I believe it should be used indiscriminately in every case. In this case, the church already had the material in print form; they didn't have the skills to successfully utilize the digital form; and the digital devices do not adequately integrate into the fabric of their early 20th-century building and decor.

Consequently, I can only conclude that the church, and many others, felt compelled to adopt this method because they feel pressured to seem relevant and contemporary to today's society. And I guess that's a good enough reason.... maybe. Unless, that is, the effort causes them to compromise other, important goals, like caring for the needy or keeping their focus on spiritual, rather than a physical, treasure. Or unless the desire to seem relevant supercedes the need to be relevant, which I find is more and more often the case.

*There are some traditions that I like and enjoy, but my reasons extend beyond "because it's tradition."

That's classified!

So, now it begins... again. Darling Wife started work today. Well, she had some meetings and stuff. Her students don't arrive until Wednesday of next week, but for all practical purposes, her job has begun in earnest. That means I have to put more effort into finding a job myself. I have been on the job market countless times in my life, most recently last summer, and I have to say that I am really tired of it.

First, I have to scour the classifieds, ask around, and check websites to find something that appeals to me. This is not an easy task. I will be starting school full-time again in the spring, so I'm not really interested in a full-time job that I will have to quit in four months. If I were, I could get something fairly easily. The library at my former university is hiring for several positions that I am more than qualified for. But I'd prefer something part-time that I can keep when I start classes again. Unfortunately, most part-time jobs involve retail sales or food service, and they want you to work nights and weekends. Not gonna do it! Period. So, I don't have a lot of options.

Then once I've found something that seems promising, I send out resumes. This involves a series of issues with formatting if I submit them electronically and a significant delay if I have to snail-mail them. Then, the problem is that businesses seldom care if you are capable of doing every item in a job's description. If your resume does not indicate that you have held a position exactly like the one they want to fill, then they won't even consider you for the job. They assume you don't have the right skills. And let's face it, years of library work and teaching seems rather limited on a resume, even if they required the same tasks as 90% of desk jobs. So, I get all excited about a job, and then I wait and wait and seldom here anything from the dozens of resumes I sent out.

And then once I do get a call back for an interview, I have to go into the used-car-salesmen routine. I have to guess what I should wear, what I should say, how I should say it, what to agree to, what to disavow, and on and on. There really is no way to know for certain what a potential employer is looking for, so it's all more or less a shot in the dark. I have to try to figure out on the fly how to convince the interviewer that I am what he or she is looking for. And there is no real way for an interviewer to get to know you during the course of a 30-minute interview. Sometimes the smallest thing can give him or her the wrong impression. So, once again, I wait and wait and hear nothing. Few employers have the courtesy these days to call and let you know you did not get the position.

And finally, when I do get a job, there is the grueling training period in which I feel awkward and incompetent for weeks until I eventually start catching on to the way things work at the place. And the job is seldom exactly what I wanted anyway. It's just what I had to take because it's not TOO bad, and I didn't get the positions I liked.

I will certainly be glad when I can begin a career and stop job hunting every few years.

Keeping the Faith

As part of our effort to return to a normal life after my long years of sleep in the Ivory Tower, Darling Wife and I have decided to begin attending church again. We both grew up with church as a major part of our lives, and we have both missed it since we moved to CA.

I am not going to get into my spiritual beliefs; that is a long blog post all by itself, and I have another axe to grind today. Besides, my faith has always been a deeply private matter between me and God. However, I will say that Darling Wife and I are from different faith backgrounds, and finding a church that will suit us is not an easy task. I also admit that I am very picky. I want the church's beliefs to be in agreement with my own; I want the pastor/priest/rector to be intelligent and charismatic; and I want the congregation to be welcoming without smothering. That's a lot to ask for, I know.

Well, with our goals in mind, DW and I have been visiting churches over the past few weeks, and once again I am disappointed in what we have found. (We had similar experiences in Boston.) The churches we have visited have fallen into two categories. The first are ritualistic, hierarchical, tradition-based churches in which the priests/rectors/ministers perform liturgies (ceremonies) complete with resplendent robes and processions, and the congregation follows a rigid program of responses, prayers, and kneeling. This type of church is usually very pretty and comfortingly familiar, but I seldom feel like I have any contact with a living God when I attend them. It seems like they just go through the motions of faith.

The second type of church claims to be different in that they have dispensed with all of the "tired, old forms" in order to create something more dynamic. But I find that they are no freer or any more in contact with God than their predecessors. True, everyone calls the pastor by first name, and they wear shorts and t-shirts to church; there are chairs instead of pews; there are bands instead of organs; and they use really high-tech AV equipment instead of hymnals. But all of this is just replacing one ritual for another, in my opinion. If you really pay attention, you can see that beneath the surface, they are still critical of anyone who doesn't conform to their view of christianity. A pair of slacks, to their way of thinking, brands you as spiritually dead. If you don't want to drink coffee with them before, between, and after services, then they think you are not embracing a christian lifestyle. And if you don't literally jump up and down during worship service and sing enthusiastically with a giant smile on your face, then you don't truly have the joy of the Lord.

Puhlease. How dare they! This isn't acceptance of others in christian fellowship. This isn't an effort to be close to God. This is the same old book of judgement with a different cover. These churches miss the real point of christianity while they focus so much on making their music more like a rock concert than communion with God. I know they would argue with me about this, but I can't help but think it's all still just form over function. Their attention to the trappings distract them from what they should be trying to achieve. Have they forgotten their purpose in their desperate scramble to be "different" and "better?" Who are they really trying to please, God or themselves? I don't think God cares about all of that stuff.

At the church we attended yesterday, one of this second type, half the congregation slid in late in their flip-flops and cell phones went off during the sermon. Now, I'm sure God doesn't care when people show up or what they are wearing, but I can't help but think that we should. If we can't be bothered to arrive on time, put a little effort into our appearance, and turn off our electronic dependency devices, then what does that say about where our hearts are and where our priorites lie?

Growing Pains

Darling Wife and I have decided to undertake a fitness regimen. This is not the fleeting New-Year's-resolution sort of decision. We are always striving, in simple and noninvasive ways, to better our health, physical, mental, social, and spiritual. We eat as healthily as time and money permit. We take walks when we can, often fast-paced, exercise-type walks. We bike. We hike. Whatever we can reasonably do. And we have repeatedly discussed and planned to try a more rigorous or dedicated exercise program. So this latest thing is not some temporary fad with us.

We looked into taking yoga classes in our hometown, and may do so in the future. But we are both embarking on new careers at the moment, and working out the logistics of an out-of-home class has been difficult. Still, we were undaunted. We borrowed various types of exercise videos from our public library and scanned through them. Darling Wife used to take yoga in Boston, so she is partial and experienced in that particular discipline. I am new to it, but after viewing several of the options, it seemed the most appealing.

Consequently, we began to practice yoga for twenty to thirty minutes a day this week. Now, I have aches and pains in parts of my body that I am quite certain I have never been conscious of before. But I have to admit, I am also feeling better. We are taking it easy for the time being, and I have full confidence that I will improve and continue to feel healthier. It feels good to be developing a more rounded lifestyle. Really good.

Feet, don't fail me now!

It's been awhile since I posted anything because Darling Wife and I have been traveling around the northwestern portion of the North American continent for the last five weeks. We've been back about five days now, and things have slowly started to return to normal.

Then last night as we were watching t.v., my foot brushed up against Darling Wife's leg. She immediately shoved it away and said, "You need to use my foot scrub." Now, I am not an overly macho guy, as anyone who knows me will attest. I don't sport tattoos, wear camoflauge, kill things for fun, engage in drinking matches, or watch ESPN 24 hours a day. But something in me says that using foot scrub is just not very manly.

I know it's silly. My feet are kinda rough. And a little ground coconut shell and green tea never hurt anybody, right? It's no big deal, right? Right?

So, I use the stuff. It's smelly, and I still don't like it. But if it makes Darling Wife happy... pass the pumice.