A Man of the Cloth

It's official: I am now an ordained minister.

I'm more than a little amazed and disturbed at how easy it is to simply buy an ordination online. Granted, I can only legally conduct weddings, baptisms, and funerals, but if I wanted to shell out another hundred bucks I could be able to do a whole lot more, including starting my own church. I doubt the "Church of Ray" has a memorable ring to the name, and even though I've always been perfectly comfortable speaking in front of large crowds, leading a group of people is another thing entirely.

I still fully intend on turning this option into a small side business, including a website promoting my services available (I guess this is my shameless moment of self-promotion talking about this) and fee charges. I'm not sure what other fringe benefits there are to calling oneself a minister aside from things like being tax-exempt, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

From now on, you can refer to me as "Reverend Ray."

Pop Quiz, Hotshot

Your younger sister's wedding is coming up in less than two months. She texts you, asking when you'll be around again so you can get fitted for the suit you'll need for the wedding. You reply by saying you'll be in town next weekend for a birthday party as well as her wedding shower, assuming it's common knowledge for everyone involved, including her. She answers she doesn't know anything about a shower next weekend and that you may have inadvertently revealed a surprise. What do you do?

WHAT. DO. YOU. DO?

If you're me, you reply with a single word that isn't quite suitable to be reprinted here. Obviously my naivte got the best of me last night because I had no idea that wedding showers are almost always done as surprise parties. I knew they could be done as surprises, but in talking with my mom and my other sister about it, it didn't sound like this was private information. Fortunately, my moment of knuckleheadedness (not sure if that's a word, but for the purposes of this post it will be) was kept to a minimum for two reasons. First, my sister promised to look surprised at her shower next weekend. Second, I didn't say exactly when or where the party will be, so she might still be caught off guard a little when the surprise is revealed. And I'm sure after it's all said and done we'll be able to laugh at everything as well.

Can you tell I'm a single guy who hasn't had any real experience with planning weddings?

Goodbye, Newman

Thursday was a very sad day.

My sister and brother-in-law have an English bulldog named Newman. He's the most confused, lost, and aloof animal I've ever known, and yet he's also the most lovable animal as well. He's been a part of our family for the past five years, and he's made dog lovers out of everyone in the group.

This past weekend my sister called me to tell me Newman wasn't doing well. She said last week he hadn't been his normal super friendly and sociable self. He hadn't been eating or want to go outside at all. Something was clearly wrong with him, so she took him to a neurologist for an examination.

All our worst fears were confirmed when an MRI revealed a brain tumor. The doctors said surgery was possible, but there was no guarantee they'd be able to get everything, or that the tumor wouldn't come back in a year. Obviously the news devastated us all, but no one more than my sister and brother-in-law. They had introduced Newman to us all several years ago, and I couldn't picture what life would have been like without him.

Now we'll have no choice but to go on without him. My sister had originally hoped to give him drugs to make him more comfortable for the time being until they could go forward with his surgery after her wedding in September, but she called me last night in tears. She said his condition was deteriorating quickly and she couldn't bear watching him in such pain. I had plans to visit her, my niece, and Newman this weekend so I could see him at least one more time before things got much worse for him, but it wasn't meant to be. She said she had to put him to sleep today so he wouldn't suffer anymore.

I quickly broke down on the phone with her. She felt awful for putting him down at all, but I immediately told her she was doing the right thing. Newman loved everyone in our family unconditionally, and we all loved him back. As tough as her decision was, it was the right choice. I told her we'd use this weekend to celebrate Newman's life and reminisce over our favorite memories of him.

I already know my favorite Newman story. Last year we got together for Mother's Day, and I brought a collection of pastries for breakfast while dinner was being cooked. Both my sister and I were munching on a pastry, and Newman had a taste for all things - both dog food and human food. My sister didn't give in to him, so he saw I hadn't yet finished my pastry. He walked right in front of me and knelt down, shoving his face between my legs. If Newman could speak, he probably would've said something along the lines of, "Wow, that looks tasty. You're going to give me a bite of that, right?"

I simply looked down at him and said, "Oh, NOW I'm your best friend, huh?" And no, I didn't give him a bite of my pastry.

It's funny how animals can have such effects on people. I never disliked dogs growing up, but I was never a pet lover in general either. Spending the last five years with Newman as part of the family has completely changed my perspective on pets. In fact, three years ago my family got together Christmas morning for family photographs, and my dad insisted that the family photos weren't complete without Newman included in them (his exact words: "No Newman? NO GOOD!").

There will most certainly be a void in our family without Newman. He brightened any room he was in, and simply watching him walk around made us all laugh. My niece is far too young to have any attachment to him, so I hope that in time my sister and brother-in-law will get another dog for her to play with.

Goodbye, Newman. I asked God to feed you bananas since you liked them so much. You took great care of us, and we'll always remember you.

Your Federal Tax Dollars At Work

I am now three days into my new job, and I have to do a short recap of how my week has gone so far. This won't be a terribly long post (at least relative to some of my other posts), but I had to talk about my new gig a little.

I wrapped up orientation today and got to meet several of my new coworkers on my team. One of the first questions a woman on my team had asked me was whether I followed football, so naturally my response was, "Religiously." We're going to get along really well.

But that's not the fun news. My first day there I found out my department's summer picnic is Thursday, so tomorrow I get to come to work in a t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. I only have to be in the office for a couple hours before we head to the cookout. Since I don't have any network access yet, I can't exactly do anything while in the office anyway, so I get paid to sit around and play on my phone before heading to the picnic.

The real kicker is that my department has been packing up their work and preparing to move to another building down the street. Almost everything is sitting in boxes in between cubicles, and the movers are taking everything Friday, so our department will have off Friday, including me. Bottom line, I'm getting paid for a full week when I'll barely be at work for three and a half days. If that's not a sweet deal, I don't know what is.

Can every week at my new job be like this one? That would rock.

The Only Bad News Is That Supermarkets Don't Sell Beer and Wine in Baltimore

Patience truly does pay off.

Wednesday brought about some truly excellent news for me. I GOT A JOB OFFER. And it's with the Department of Health and Human Services in Baltimore. I'll now really be working for The Man, with all the rights and privileges there. When I got the call with the offer, I was in shock for a few moments after the conversation had ended. I could finally sleep comfortably, knowing this whole stress would be ending. And it's obviously a company where I wouldn't have to worry about being squeezed out in two years again. I called around my family and close friends and told them all the good news, and we're all going to be celebrating this weekend, starting tonight.

Obviously this means several things, most notably that I'll be moving back to Baltimore by the end of the summer. It's for the best since all my family and friends live in the area anyways. Virginia's certainly been good to me, and I sure did love the fact that all the grocery stores sold beer and wine in them. I made some great friends in the area, and I intend on keeping in touch and hopefully seeing them on occasion too. Baltimore really is where I belong though, and I'm happy to be moving back there.

Most of my Baltimore friends have jabbed at me for moving to Virginia, but after I got the job offer I realized something: I would never have gotten this job with the DHHS had I not worked in Virginia for a government contractor. The last three months have taught me many things, but what was probably the most important lesson is understanding the grand cosmic reason for why I had moved to Virginia in the first place. It was merely a stepping stone to get me back to Baltimore eventually in a position where I know I'll be happy and successful. For that reason, I can be thankful that I had lived and worked in Virginia. The time has come though for me to come home, and if nothing else I'll be glad that I'll be a whole lot closer to my niece and get to see her more often.

Still, I'll miss having such easy access to beer and wine.

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.