Lucky Boxers

I haven't discussed my job hunting over the last several weeks here at all somewhat intentionally, mainly because it would likely sound repetitive. Bottom line, it's been a lot like this:

"Monday: Ate breakfast. Watched Frasier reruns. Showered. Applied to three jobs. Went food shopping. Watched MLB Network. Read part of The Blind Side."

"Tuesday: Showered. Ate breakfast. Watched Quick Pitch. Applied to two more jobs. Did laundry and dishes. Talked to recruiter from staffing agency for 15 minutes about job hunt. Watched more MLB Network."

"Wednesday: Watched Frasier reruns. Showered. Ate breakfast. Applied to four jobs. Watched Maury. Vacuumed the apartment. Talked to Mom and vented about frustration stemming from job hunting for a bit before lunch."

Lather, rinse, repeat.

In the last two weeks, however, things have changed quite a bit. The week after I was let go from my job, one of my buddies in Baltimore text me about openings in his office at the DHHS. They were adding 10 contract specialists to the team ASAP and wanted people with finance and/or business backgrounds, preferably with master's degrees. That description fit me to a T, so I immediately went to work on revising my resume to suit the position's needs. He forwarded my resume to his boss, who took a look at it and loved it. I then had to get my college transcripts together and send them over which took a little time, but I got them in.

Then the waiting started.

Of course, I kept up with applying for other jobs in the meantime, wondering how long it would take them to call me. About two weeks ago a recruiter from the DHHS office called me about my application and scheduled an interview with me. We set it up for this past Friday, so I decided to get to Baltimore that morning and spend the weekend since Sunday was Mother's Day (you know, so I could be a good son and all).

I went to my interview and met with two managers. We spoke for about an hour about my background and assorted qualifications, and I have to say I left there with a decent vibe about my chances. My buddy happened to text me about my interview shortly after I left and he checked with the managers about their thoughts on me. He said their exact words were I "kicked ass." He also said while he couldn't guarantee anything, he'd be shocked if I didn't get a phone call with an offer within the next week

No wait - it gets better.

One of the other jobs I had applied to prior to my interview at DHHS was for a job in Virginia. I had applied for it on Thursday, and Monday morning their recruiter called me asking to schedule an interview. I couldn't remember any response that moved so quickly after first applying for a position, so we had scheduled it for Tuesday afternoon. I got to the interview and met with the manager for about an hour there as well.

I don't normally like to make quick judgments based off a single interview with a manager, but I gotta say I ACED that interview. It didn't even feel like such a formal setting; it was more of a regular conversation. We spent the first ten minutes or so making regular chit chat about the company and other small talk which really built a good vibe that carried over through the rest of the interview. We wrapped up the interview talking about baseball for a couple minutes as well, so things definitely went extremely well overall. I left there feeling really good about my chances to get a second interview at the very least, if not potentially an offer.

No wait - it gets better.

I got a follow up email from DHHS yesterday asking about one of my references. The manager was contacting my references and wanted to confirm one of the email addresses. I have to believe this is good news and that they're preparing to make an offer later this week after they're talked to all my references.

I have a theory about why both inteviews went so well, and I'm sure it'll sound at least a little crazy: I made sure to wear a pair of lucky boxers to each interview.

I challenge anyone reading this post to dispute having at least one or two sets of lucky underwear. Whenever I'm out and wearing a pair of my favorite boxers, I feel more confident for some reason. I made a point to wear them to each interview, and you can be damn sure if I get a callback for a second interview I will be wearing another pair of lucky boxers to it. Sure, it's superstitious, but if it gets the job done I won't complain at all.

The question now becomes if I'm offered both positions, which one do I take? Granted, it's far too premature to ask such a question, but the pros and cons would definitely need to be weighed. Obviously if I took the job in Virginia, I wouldn't have to move anywhere. It also will pay quite a bit more up front than the DHHS job. However, the DHHS job will probably offer better benefits, more stability long term, and I'd be closer to my friends and family.

This could end up being the kind of problem most people would love to have.

See? I owe it all to my boxers.

Return to Normalcy

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."
- Thomas Jefferson

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was on my way to class. I didn't listen to the local radio stations very often, mainly because I didn't like the morning DJs or their taste in music much (I could only take so much of Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Offspring, but that's a post for another time). I got to class like any other morning, and this being early in the fall semester most of the students showed up on time. My professor walked in the classroom a few minutes later and immediately ordered everyone to quiet down, asking anyone for accurate information as to what was happening that morning. I immediately turned to my friend sitting next to me asking what I had missed, and she said she heard something about an airplane crashing into the World Trade Center. My first thought was that it was some kind of bi-plane, anything but a 747 for sure.

Of course, I was completely wrong.

My professor cancelled class on the spot, telling everyone to go home and watch the news. I got back in my car and drove home, making sure to listen to the local radio stations this time. By this point, all local stations had switched over to major network broadcasts, and I heard Peter Jennings reporting everything that was going on. During the trip home, I heard him announce the World Trade Center was collapsing. All I had to go on was his description of the chaos in New York City until I finally got home and turned on the news.

Fast forward to the spring of 2003 when the U.S. invaded Iraq. I was in my final semester of college, and anti-war assemblies were being held all over campus, as well as televised on stations all over the country. MTV had college students call in from across the country talking about what was going on by students demonstrating their oppositions to the invasion efforts. Frankly, I didn't like how MTV in particular only seemed interested in talking to college students who opposed the effort, but by this point the U.S. was fully committed to finding two people: Osama bin Laden, who had taken ownership of the attacks on September 11; and Saddam Hussein, who had ruled Iraq with his iron fist regime for decades.

I found myself somewhat torn in the whole mess. I absolutely believed (and still do believe) that Hussein was a maniac who should have been brought to justice a very long time ago. When he faced punishment for his actions, he got what he had deserved. I certainly didn't like the sound of the reports on CNN that American soldiers were killed in Iraq and Afghanistan on an almost-daily basis, but I truly believed the greater good was being served. I just didn't like the idea of the U.S. going at it alone, more or less.

Finally late last night, I was getting ready for bed when one of my friends IM'd me that Obama was about to announce something BIG. I put on CNN and saw Wolf Blitzer reporting that whatever Obama was going to talk about, it had to deal with national security, but nothing with regards to Libya or anything else that had been in the news recently. When I saw that Osama bin Laden had been tracked down by U.S. intelligence and a SEAL team had killed him on sight, I was utterly speechless. The sight of people gathered outside the White House and in Times Square singing and celebrating was something words could never adequately describe. The other major goal for the U.S. military in the last 10 years was finally brought to an end. A man who had committed atrocities long before 9/11 had met justice.

One of my first thoughts in seeing the details come out was something I heard on a local radio station the day after 9/11. The host said that day we weren't Republicans or Democrats. We were simply all Americans. We were all hurting. We were all angry. We were all sharing in the losses by the families whose loved ones perished in the attacks. I can't pretend to know what it's been like for children who had lost a parent that day, a parent who had lost a child, a husband who had lost his wife, or a wife who had lost her husband. Last night, the lingering hurt and anger could really start to pass. I don't doubt that families will always miss their loved ones from that day, but there has to be some element of peace knowing the man responsible for the attacks has been brought to justice.

Just like that day, today we are not Republicans or Democrats. We are not Christians or Muslims. We are all simply Americans. We can all share in the relief knowing one of the truly evil men in this world will never hurt another soul. We all know this isn't quite the end, but it's surely a big step towards it.

I don't know if anyone serving in the military will ever read this blog, but if that were to ever happen, please know this: your sacrifices over the last ten years will always be remembered. I simply can't thank you enough for everything you've done to protect this country. The freedom all Americans enjoy can easily be taken for granted, and days like today are a reminder of what you do for us every day.

I think it's safe to say that all the members of that unit who had infiltrated bin Laden's mansion and took him out will never have to pay for another drink in their lives.

Rock Bottom

Yesterday was quite possibly the single worst day of my life. Or maybe it's all for the best. I'm really unsure of how I feel about it right now. And it will likely be several months before I really know how I feel about it.

Let me explain. Over the last 3 months or so at work I'd been getting "coaching sessions" (really, they were formal write ups) about my work being unsatisfactory in several ways. To go into detail over them would take far too long, but suffice to say at least some of the complaints were deserved. My manager and supervisor told me very clearly what had been done incorrectly and expected me to show signs of improvement.

From that first meeting with HR I knew I was on the hot seat. The problem was, things weren't getting any better. The bad stuff had piled up on me, and things came to a head yesterday afternoon. I was called into a meeting with my manager, supervisor, and a rep from HR for the third time. The HR rep came straight to the point: I was being let go as an employee. I hadn't been improving in my performance, and my manager was getting phone calls from VPs about me and demanded my removal. I sat there in silence for several seconds to let the reality of everything sink in before saying anything.

I kept my cool as much as possible, and I like to think I did a fair job of it. First I tried requesting to be moved to a different area within the department with new tasks and responsiblities, but no options were available. I asked for at least some more time so I could find a new position and leave on my terms, but the VPs wouldn't go for that. The impression that my supervisor and manager were giving me was that this decision came down from over their heads, and despite not necessarily agreeing with the call they had no choice. (I have no idea if that's really the case, but that's what they told me)

In essence, it truly was the worst of times.

I called my dad after packing my things up and saying goodbye to my coworkers who were still in the office at that point. I told him everything, and I got really upset and emotional on the phone with him. I had no idea what to do at this point. This was the first time in my life I was being let go from a position versus leaving on my own terms with a new job already lined up. Fortunately he quickly came up with a plan: I stay put in my apartment for at least the month of April and apply for jobs throughout the month. I also apply for unemployment in the meantime to have some extra money beyond my final paychecks coming to me from my job. If I still don't have a new job lined up by the end of April, I'll terminate my lease early and move back with my parents till I find something new.

When I got home, I called around and told some of my closest friends about what had happened as well. After making the normal rounds of phone calls, I did what any full grown adult who had just gotten the worst news possible would have done: I got piss drunk.

I pulled out a half full bottle of Jack Daniels from my freezer and cracked open a couple cans of Coca Cola. I had finished three full glasses of Jack n' Cokes, and got about halfway through my fourth glass when my mom called. I had to sober up fairly quickly while talking with her, but I'm sure she could tell I wasn't exactly sober. Fortunately I was home, so the worst that would happen to me would be falling off my bed if I stood up.

After having talked to about 5 different people on the phone, in addition to my coworkers, about everything, there was one major common theme in their advice for me: Maybe this is for the best. The sky may not be falling. This whole situation could turn out to be something great for me in the long run. I may not know for sure for several months, but anything is possible.

In essence, this could lead me to the best of times.

I did have a long conversation with God though. It wasn't a prayer at all; it was a full on conversation about where my life is right now and where it could be going. I really don't know what plan is in store for me here, but I have to believe something good will come of this. It could involve me moving back to the Baltimore area ultimately, or I simply find another job in Virginia.

What really helps here is knowing my family and closest friends are there for me right now. I've gotten text messages, phone calls, and emails from a number of people since last night checking on me. It's times like these that remind me of how easily people take for granted their close relationships. Words simply don't do justice to how grateful I am for my friends and family who are willing to do whatever they can for me right now. As emotional a time as this is right now, it's comforting to know I have a support system in place, and possible options for what happens next.

Right now it feels like I've hit rock bottom, and in a way I have. The good news is that there's truly nowhere to go but up; it's a just a question of how long it'll take to get there.

There Will Never Be Another You

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my grandfather passing away. To celebrate his memory, my relatives on my mom's side got together this morning at his grave in Annapolis. My uncle, who had spoken at his funeral, also led the small memorial today and also allowed everyone in the family to share whatever stories they wanted.

I was pretty amazed at how quickly the last ten years have gone by without him. This morning made me think back to the day when I first got the news of his passing. My parents were in Paris that week on vacation, and one of my sisters was on spring break in New Orleans. I was studying for a midterm exam for that afternoon when my aunt called to talk to my mom. I told her she was out of the country and hard to reach, so my aunt told me my grandfather had a heart attack and was gone within seconds. Needless to say, the news took the entire family by surprise, and the situation was compounded by most of my family on vacation.

I tried to concentrate on studying for my exam, and somehow brought myself to take the test that day. I came home to find my sister home from school and told her the news right away. She was just as upset over it as I was, and my aunt called back to check up on us. I couldn't bring myself to call my mom in Paris and ruin her vacation by telling her about Gramps, so my aunt volunteered to call her herself. Coincidentally, my other sister just happened to call that same night to check up on us as well, and I had to break the news to her, despite wondering if it was the right thing to do.

There were other significant details that had to be worked out in order to arrange for his funeral, and fortunately they were completed by the time everyone had come home from their respective vacations. I recall at his viewing my relatives all sat around and talked about the last few years of his life. He had quadruple bypass open heart surgery a couple years beforehand, and nearly died from infections from his surgery. He eventually recovered, but I'm sure his heart attack was related in some fashion to the surgeries he had. Regardless, we all took a moment to realize the gift he was given in the last couple years of his life.

I also thought a lot about some of the best memories I had of my grandfather when I was young. Probably my favorite memory was of many weekends when my parents would drop me off at his house when I was a kid, and we'd rent movies and walk through a park together. We'd read books, design wooden toy trucks and cars, and talk to the squirrels in the park (he told me many times I was a natural at talking to the squirrels). I'm also certain my parents had no issues at all of giving me over to him for a couple days at a time so I'd be out of their hair for a weekend.

Visiting my grandfather's grave was a task on my list, so I can now cross that off. In fact, I actually got to see my grandfather's tombstone for the first time this morning since his funeral, and the inscription on his tombstone was very fitting for him:

Robert Wilton Stevens: There will never be another you.

The Apple of My Eye

Last night at 8:52, my entire life changed.

It started at 6:30 yesterday morning when my sister called me to tell me our sister's water broke, and she was going into labor. Her actual due date was today, so the baby was coming on time, more or less. I'd been waiting for this day ever since the day I found out my sister was pregnant, but as much as I was looking towards it, I knew my pregnant sister was looking forward to it for a whole other set of reasons. I went to work, waiting for any updates since I knew it was going to be a super long day.

By lunch time, there weren't any significant updates with my sister's condition. Since I had to drive from Northern Virginia to Baltimore, I had to leave work early enough to hopefully dodge as much rush hour traffic in between as possible. Fortunately, I met up with my dad by early evening and we got to the hospital with plenty of time to spare (much to the chagrin of my sister in labor).

By 7:00, my sister had just started moving forward with dilating. However, she was faced with choosing between giving birth naturally or having a C-section. She ultimately went with the C-section, and the procedure was expected to take about an hour to complete.

Finally sometime after 9:00, my brother-in-law came out with a big smile on his face and showed us pictures of my niece. Gianna Violet Ignozzi was 7 lbs, 9.5 oz and was 19 inches long. I chose to wait to meet her face to face before leaving for the night. I had to wait over two hours before we got notice that we could come back to see my niece.

All I can say is, it was completely worth the wait.

I saw my sister laying in bed, with my niece laying in her newborn bed with a heater above her to keep her warm. I always knew I'd enjoy becoming an uncle, but once the moment hit me, there were no words that could possibly describe how completely in love with my niece I was. I was extremely nervous about holding her, but the nurse in the room wrapped her in several blankets and offered her up to me.

As amazing as it was seeing my niece for the first time, holding her in my arms was another experience all together.

There was a moment as I was holding my niece where she opened her eyes and looked right at me. It was a moment that I will never forget as long as I live. She was immediately the apple of my eye.

I said all along that I would enjoy spoiling my niece rotten, even to the point of annoying my sister in the process. I still plan on doing that, but when my niece looked at me in the eye, I knew my role as uncle was far greater than that. It's my brother-in-law's responsibility to protect and support her throughout her life, but I now know I play a role in that, too. I may already be completely wrapped around her finger, but I also will do my best to take care of her and protect her as well.

How Good Is Your British Accent?

Every now and then, a film is released that causes some controversy based on content involving sex, race, gender, politics, religion, and/or ethnicity. I'm sure that at least some of those films are made specifically to cause controversy, while others are made controversial because of the general public's reactions. The old cliche of "no press is bad press" applies in cases like this, since most times a controversial film has an instant boost at the box office from people talking about it.

One of the recurring forms of controversy surrounding movies is "whitewashing," where characters of foreign backgrounds are cast with Caucasian actors. Though it wasn't quite whitewashing, I had read a number of complaints online back when the role of Sulu was cast in the reboot of Star Trek a couple years ago. Sulu was a Japanese character, but the actor portraying him was of Korean descent. I didn't see any real offense committed here, though I can see why some would be upset at this casting.

One of the most recent examples of whitewashing was in the film Prince of Persia. The film takes place in the Middle East over 1000 years ago, and the characters were all natively Persian obviously. The controversy in the film came up when Jake Gyllenhaal was cast as the male lead and British actress Gemma Arterton was cast as the female lead. The filmmakers were accused of appealing to American audiences more than finding actors who matched the ethnic profiles of the characters - an accusation that, in my opinion, had some merit.

In fairness to Prince of Persia, the film was far from being the first film of its kind of controversy. However, there's another odd choice made in the film that I don't recall reading anywhere else previously: In addition to the whitewashing in the film, all the characters speak with British accents.

Prince of Persia was merely the latest example of this odd choice on the filmmakers' behalf as well. Films such as Gladiator, Troy, Kingdom of Heaven, and 300 all had many of the lead actors speak with British accents even though none of them took place in England at all. Historically speaking, England had no influence on any of the areas where any of those films took place either, so anyone living in those areas wouldn't have spoken with British accents at all (even if they could speak English at all).

I'm not sure exactly when using British accents became common practice for films taking place over 1000 years ago. I'm not even necessarily saying it's a bad thing, or make the films automatically bad as a whole (Gladiator and Kingdom of Heaven are two of my favorite films, in fact). It does manage to take me out of the film somewhat; that is to say, I start thinking about how out of place the accents are more than enjoying the film for itself. The trend is clearly a fairly new technique though, since older films taking place in the same general time period don't use phony British accents at all (see The Ten Commandments, Ben-Hur, The Robe, etc).

The irony here is that I personally love Hollywood epics that take place in time periods like the aforementioned films, so I come across films with these British accents frequently. It's nothing more than a minor peeve with movies, but it's got me wondering at what point during production do the filmmakers stop and say, "Boy, the movie sure is turning out great, but it's missing something....I know! British accents!"

Enrico Polazzo Would Be Proud...Sort Of

I consider myself a fairly patriotic person. I love admiring the sight of the American flag flapping in the wind. Watching fireworks every July 4th isn't just about the ooo-ing and ahh-ing for me. But above either of these, I get a chill when I hear the national anthem.

One of the most iconic renditions of the national anthem I've ever seen or heard was Whitney Houston, when she had sung it at the Super Bowl in 1991. It was particularly moving since the U.S. at that time had just gone to war with Iraq, and she brought the house down in a moving and patriotic performance. She didn't overdo it, which is actually somewhat easy to do.

Christina Aguilera could have learned a lot from Whitney Houston's performance. Aguilera sang the anthem at Super Bowl XLV, and while I will never deny that she has some serious vocal talents, she tends to show off her skills for no reason at all. Where Houston gave a performance for the ages because of how great she sang, Aguilera gave a performance for the ages for the complete opposite of reasons. She actually messed up a line in the anthem, which is beyond embarrassing on such a stage. She tried rebounding as much as possible, but her performance rivals - if not surpasses - Roseanne's performance as the single worst singing of the national anthem ever.

Two things come to mind here. First, I can't help but suspect that Aguilera messed the song up because she was so focused on showing off her vocal range more than anything else while singing. She's far from the only vocalist out there to do so, which is really a sign of the times. Houston has a beautiful singing voice, but part of the reason why she's so successful is because she carries a note, not constantly shifting tone and pitch. Aguilera can sing just as well, but she's constantly going up and down on her scale. Singing the national anthem does not need that!

Second, and before I'm accused of trying to sound like Simon Cowell here, her performance reminded me of another famous fumbling of the national anthem: Leslie Nielsen as Frank Drebin as Enrico Polazzo in The Naked Gun. In my opinion, his performance of the national anthem at a baseball game late in the movie is one of the funniest scenes in any movie ever.

The ultimate irony to Aguilera's performance is that right before she sang, one of the cast members of Glee sang "America the Beautiful" and absolutely nailed it. She really brought the house down, and she didn't go over the top in her performance. Less truly can be more sometimes, and I think this is one of those times.

But hey, even though Aguilera blew her moment in the spotlight, at least the Packers won the game.