New York

So after another busy week at work, I decided to broaden my horizons and spend my Friday off in New York. I actually booked the trip one week earlier, setting my departure date for 11:59 pm Thursday night, and my return date for 3:15 pm Friday afternoon. While many of my friends were a bit perplexed that I would go there for just one day and then return early so I could attend all of the weekend activities, they also thought it was pretty cool that I would be so random and adventurous. Nothing else to do on my day off, right?

The bus ride was okay for...well, a bus ride. I was even able to sleep a bit. The bus dropped us off at 4:15 am at a stop about three blocks east of New York's Penn Station. As I began walking towards Penn Station, Madison Square Garden quickly showed itself, thus giving me a greater understanding of just how close together everything important really is in the Big Apple. I would eventually find places farther apart throughout the day, but it still gave me comfort knowing that I would have plenty of tourist activities during my short stay. I also began to feel right at home (my Boston home) when a panhandler approached me at Penn Station, claiming he was a diabetic and needed $10 to get something at the McDonald's stand on the corner. That was the most money I had ever given a panhandler, and I knew he probably wasn't diabetic if he was going to get something at McDonald's, but I was already apprehensive about New York's reputation for muggers without adding the 4:30 am ambiance. As I moseyed into the station, I began wondering what I had gotten myself into. Hundreds of people from all walks of life lined the station walls, keeled over their luggage in the most uncomfortable sleeping positions, while most of those awake were either arguing with their cell phones or arguing with themselves. Mohawks and enormous afros must have added six inches to the the average height of the people there. I wonder if I'm that scary looking in the morning. Even before the Subway signs warned me to watch for pickpockets, I was already clutching the outside of my jacket pocket that carried my cell phone.

The trip was great--well worth the bus fare and the shin splints I would acquire by the end of the day. I spent a couple of hours reading in the Subway--waiting for my line to open up for the day. I then ventured to Central Park. On the way, as the subway whisked through the stop at 59th Street, I was reminded of Simon and Garfunkel's 59th Street Bridge Song, a lyric quite complementary to the ever-frazzled disposition of which I have been trying particularly hard to dispose--part of the reason I had come on this adventure. Actually, just about everything I saw in New York got me thinking about everything, and I wish I had more creative words at my disposal to describe it. I ended up cruising through Times Square for a while before hitting Central Park. Times Square literally puts Boston's Newbury Street to shame. Everything is there, not just your high-priced retailers and exotic outdoor restaurants. Times Square has those too, but so much more for anyone to enjoy.

I didn't realize that Times Square is basically a long strip stretching from the southern border of Central Park to beyond 40th Street. I guess the New Year's Eve celebrations have had me assuming it was an actual square--a really big one, no less. My favorite part of Times Square was the Hershey's Company, where I went and bought Reese's-flavored Whoppers. Even though I'm not a big fan of Whoppers, it was peanut butter! And I had to get some sort of souvenir besides the digital camera I bought. I also encountered an Elvis impersonator, a no idling sign that threatened a $2000 fine, the building where they film the Late Show, and a branch of New York's finest right in the middle of the Square.

I later took the literary walk through Central Park, which also surprised me. I didn't realize Central Park actually had tourist attractions of historical value. I saw statues of Columbus, Shakespeare, and Sir Walter Scott, among others. And I saw a random black wizard with a long white beard near the playground giving a tour to some high school students. He had with him a sign that said Blackwolf, who I later learned was a character from the 1977 movie Wizards, a post-apocalyptic science fiction/fantasy about two opposing wizards who represent the battle between magic and technology. I just thought seeing a wizard in Central Park was really cool.


After brief visits to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Natural History--both of which cost money just for the tours, so I didn't get to do much more than admire the Greek and Roman sculptures as well as Theodore Roosevelt's statement on Manhood--I ended my stay with a tour of Ground Zero. I knew my stepfather would be disappointed if I left New York without visiting the place, and since I was on my mission when it all happened, I still know very few of the details. The tour was given by two people who had loved ones that had died during the attack. Most of the tour, however, featured the logistics of the World Trade Center, such as the fact that David Rockefeller paid for it to be built to revitalize a city that was deteriorating in morale and economic prosperity. I also learned that the entire Liberty Island could fit into the site where the towers once stood, and that when the towers were hit, they took 10-12 seconds to fall, tumbling to the ground almost like a pancake. Part of the tour took place in the memorial that is currently under construction. As I gazed out the large windows from the third or fourth floor of the memorial, I saw the construction site that I assumed was the actual towers being rebuilt, when in fact it was part of the memorial itself. I felt kind of sheepish after finding out otherwise on my own.

Either way, the fact is that I somehow did not save the picture I took of the site, which saddens me. Oh well, I'm over it. That was the gist of my trip, and I won't bore you with the bus ride home. I did feel more cultured and experienced after going to New York, and I can't wait to go back there with friends so I can be in the pictures that I take--you can't be in too many pictures if you refuse to take your hand off your camera. Maybe whomever I go with will convince me to relax in that respect.

Work and the Power of Choice

This has been a pretty good week. Work has been rather busy, as we have deadlines approaching every 1-2 weeks. I should explain what it is I do exactly. Yes, I am a technical writer and I write technical manuals, but what I do is much different, much more intense, and much cooler then writing about microwaves and mattresses--no offense to those who write about microwaves; I am all for anything that teaches you how to cook your burrito without going blind, getting radiation poisoning, or causing an explosion because you never thought to ask whether pots and pans are safe containers. As for those who write about mattresses, I did that for a month, and admit it, you'd rather be counting the screws in the hardwood floor at the Boston Garden.

I write technical manuals for a naval destroyer. There is so much that goes into writing these manuals. There are dozens of systems on the ship, which translates into hundreds of components, which in turn translates into thousands of pages about those components and the systems themselves. These manuals describe everything about the systems and the components, instruct the user on how to install and configure them, and then offer troubleshooting information.

In the 14 months that I have worked for Raytheon, which is in Tewksbury, just 30 miles north of Boston, I have found that the intensity of the job can be traced primarily to one ongoing factor: There are dozens and dozens of people in your department, each of whom have work that depends on the cooperation of people outside the department, even outside the company, who in turn often have priorities and deadlines that don't coincide with those of the project for which you are responsible. The more people you have in that type of situation, the more vital it is to stay on each other's backs, following up on every little task you need them to do and reminding them of every little deadline that needs to be met and why it so important, which can get quite irritating for all parties involved. Even then, deadlines are often missed and/or pushed back, which irritates those with OCD to no end. I should mention my Team Lead is OCD.

Anyway, that's all I can really say about the job, as I deal with a lot of proprietary information. Most of my friends would find the details boring anyway. I can say that I spent this entire week preparing some operational procedures for a Q2 Review. These procedures took so long that I even had to work today, which normally would have been my Friday off. That just means I'll get next Friday off, as well as the next. While I do enjoy my job, this week's task was a little tedious. For the past three months, I have been looking forward to transferring to a position as a technical editor. In this position, I would be performing Q6 Reviews on other people's work, which my Team Lead and my Supervisor both think would be a great fit for me. I was supposed to start last month, but deadlines have been pushed back.

On Monday of this week, my Team Lead told me that because of funding, it could be months before I start my new position. That can be kind of frustrating, but at least that means I have more time to get to know the SMEs involved in the project and gain more in-depth knowledge about these systems. I didn't work much with SMEs last year, as my work was mostly under the direction of my Team Lead, but now my mind is trained well enough to the point that I know what questions I need to ask, and to whom, in any given situation that may arise on the job.

Also this week, I read the book The Giver upon a friend's recommendation. I mention this book because it offered a lot more insight than I previously had about freedom of choice, otherwise known as free agency. Without giving the plot away, I will say that it suggests some very profound implications of living in a society where we are compelled to do good, treat everyone with respect, and shun evil in its entirety, which includes evil deeds, evil thoughts, and exposure to anything that could remotely encourage any actions that are less than ideal. I'll give you a hint on some of those implications: think of the color brown and take note of the emotions you feel while doing so. Also, think of how winter makes you feel. Chances are you probably experience negative emotions, which may or may not have a negative influence on your actions. So just for the sake of caution, what would be the only sure-fire way to avoid those negative emotions altogether? Think about it.

Consequently, while I have always believed that God allows us to make our own choices so that we can grow and find happiness in making the right ones, I now understand just how meaningful and necessary it is to have those things in our lives that can potentially bring us joy or pain based on our choices. God doesn't just want us to find joy in the fact that we chose good over evil and therefore have learned self-mastery. That is a major part of it, but He also wants us to 1) understand the human tendency for choosing evil in most situations because it seems like the natural thing to do in this imperfect world, and 2) comprehend the true power of choice, and how it enables us to create or destroy things, each other, and even ourselves. Once we learn of the human potential and the astronomical contrast between the consequences of good and the consequences of evil, only then will we find ultimate joy.

Even so, I still have mixed feelings about the book's ending. Oh well, at least it got me thinking again.

My First Official Post

It is moments like these that compelled me to create this blog. After going to the gas station, the library, and then braving the Boston traffic and dodging the KFC protesters to get myself a twister wrap, I find myself back at home with too much time on my hands. I can't help thinking of all the lazy Saturday afternoons I could have blogged about in the past.

I did try stopping by my friends Jan Marie and Stephanie's place in Brighton, partially because I wanted to practice Stephanie's piano and partially because I figured I wouldn't be able to find a parking spot by where I live, and I usually have to park it for the weekend. Unfortunately, they weren't home, though while knocking on their back door, I heard the sound of a doorbell repeating over and over. I wasn't sure what it was at the time, and I soon let my imagination run wild, thinking about the beginning of one of those horror movies that start out with high-pitched, usually fast-paced orchestra music illustrating the intensity of it all. In retrospect, I wonder if they start out that way because those movies usually take a while with plot development, so the producers want to give a reminder that we are in fact watching a horror movie and therefore should not be surprised when the protagonist (or damsel in distress that is in love with the protagonist or vice versa) unsuspectingly opens the refrigerator and a hairy, gnarled hand gives him/her the mustard.

But also like those movies, this noise was exactly what it sounded like: a broken doorbell. I guess I dismissed that idea because the back door that I always use doesn't have a doorbell, and I suppose I had forgotten about the front door. By the time I realized this, I was already on my way home and talking to Stephanie on the phone. Fortunately, I did find a parking spot on my street. Hence, I am here.

Anyway, today is really nice. The sun is out and the temperature is 50 degrees. Not the best day to be stuck inside reading, but at least I don't have to worry about traffic. Seriously, the roads are the only thing I don't like about Boston. I do, however, find the endless struggle between driver and pedestrian quite intriguing. As a driver, I sometimes get impatient with the pedestrians who jaywalk or simply take their sweet time crossing the crosswalk without consideration for 1) the driver trying to make a left turn before getting hit by oncoming traffic, or 2) the driver looking to make a right turn at an intersection before the light turns red because the city of Boston places No Turn on Red Light signs at random intersections. I call it random because I often find myself looking for those signs at intersections that would logically need them more than others, but alas they do not. This causes me considerable anxiety, as do those intersections that are kitty corner to each other so when someone makes a left turn they can't tell which stoplight they're supposed to be obeying. My Team Lead at work is no help, as she claims there are hidden cameras at every intersection in Boston. A sister in my ward last year offered some comfort when she said the police have more important things to worry about.

On the other hand, as a frequent pedestrian, I can see how frustrating it is when some drivers are so focused on where they're going that they honk at us in exasperation because somehow we should have known that the light would turn red as we were crossing the crosswalk, thus preventing them from making that right turn. They should rather be mad at the driver in front of them who let several pedestrians cross against the light. I feel no sympathy for those pedestrians, as I think they're simply taking advantage of the state law that drivers must stop for pedestrians. At the same time, I feel even less sympathy for the drivers who let the pedestrians pass, as they should know that said law does not apply to jaywalkers, and the jaywalkers usually know that and are therefore prepared to stop for drivers who assert themselves.

Well, that's my vent about Boston traffic; pretty good for being a whole year's worth. I hope this stuff isn't too emotionally heavy, but at least it's getting me into the habit of writing on this thing. I'm a little appalled at some of my grammar and sentence structure in this post, but I know very few people who will notice, and among them, there are even fewer whose opinions I value, most of whom could care less that I ended a sentence with a preposition. So I won't bother with the editing.

Let the Blogging Begin!

Procrastination is an interesting concept. I say interesting because while it predictably can cause severe disruptions in our lives, even to the extent of defeating our desires and ambitions, thus leaving us with regret that only disappears once we have achieved those ambitions through the deliberate method of not procrastinating, it can also catch us between a rock and a hard place as we try to decide whether the priorities which we procrastinated doing are more or less important than our current priorities.

Wait, that sounded way too convoluted...and so does convoluted. I simply mean that when we procrastinate, we often find ourselves having to choose between what we wanted in the past and what we currently want and which hasn't been procrastinated yet. Usually, if we're still dwelling on the past, it is something we view as having long-term consequences and therefore needing attention, but as human beings we are also impatient to achieve our present ambitions...especially if we made a specific resolve to stop procrastinating.

For example, I just spent the last 90 minutes creating this blog that I've been procrastinating for over a year. At the same time, my plan was to be out the door by noon and spend my Saturday catching up on my reading list that I have been neglecting ever since graduate school turned me off to the idea of reading for recreation. While that goal is the result of more procrastination, I refer to it as an immediate priority because the books I want to read can be read in a matter of days or perhaps weeks. Among other things, I plan on checking out The Giver, which I hear can be read in the time it has taken me to create this blog.

This blog, however, is something I should have started a long time ago, and because I didn't, it is an ongoing process that will not be accomplished in a Saturday afternoon. I really just want to use this to post random thoughts and describe my experiences here in Boston, while I will leave the venting for my journal if I ever get around to it. Ironically, I spent a lot of time on the logistics of creating this thing, including my profile. I eventually deleted most of the About Me information because honestly, who wants to hear a play-by-play of my growing up years, my brushes with life-threatening illnesses, and how I feel about the God-fearing people of Minnesota? Those were all fine to discuss in the past, but you probably want to know what I'm doing now. I'm still not satisfied with the background and layout of this blog, but if I stop soon and get ready now, I can still be out the door by noon. Therefore, I'll leave it to my readers to tell me whether it needs improvement. Hey, it can't be much worse than the Facebook layout.

I'm not exactly sure what my theme is going to be. I guess I'll do what I already said and simply share random thoughts and my experiences here in Boston. I told someone last night I was thinking of redoing all the tourist attractions I did last year just so I can remember everything to write in here, but that doesn't sound very practical. Perhaps an effective way to remember the last year will be to share current experiences and somehow correlate them with the past. I'm usually pretty good at making those transitions, so we'll see. I do promise that my next post will be more interesting than this one, largely because now that I have created this thing, I'll have it in the back of my mind anytime I am deciding whether to go out and live it up or stay in and play Scrabble on my computer.