burden in my hand

shame, greed, and ego

2009-06-13T20:03:00.002-07:00

I have nothing to be ashamed of. I have accomplished everything I have set out to do up to this point in my life. I have no great failures. I have made mistakes - big ones - and I fit no description that could be plausibly attributed to the word "perfect." In fact, I have many shortcomings. One of which I quite enjoy is laughing at farts. Yeah, they're funny. Hardly becoming of someone who aspires to higher things (as we all should).

But, as I get "older" (I have yet to break 30...) I realize how small a fish I am in the puddles, ponds, lakes, and oceans of worldly accomplishments. Boats, jet-skis, home size, income, entrepreneurial success and good looks are some of the things I just haven't acquired yet. The truth is that while I don't necessarily *want* those things, I want the perceived confidence and satisfaction of having led a good life.

I know this is a rambling post. It sounded a lot more straightforward in my head. I had hoped that writing this would make those back-of-your-mind desires for worldly recognition dissipate, but if fixing your problems was as easy as blogging about them I'd be near perfect by now.

I am not ashamed of who I am or of what I've accomplished. I'm very happy with it, in fact. And I often choose to think actively think about that - count my blessings, if you will - to combat the feeling of inadequacy when faced with lack of temporal success when I am compared with those in the upper crust.

No mo' Gitmo

2009-01-24T09:31:00.002-07:00

Good.

It's time.

"Your families aren't safe." They weren't before Guantanamo Bay closed. Osama Bin Laden is still out there.

"You're going to supply the terrorists with fresh new faces with a vendetta against the U.S." Our foreign policy of simply supporting Israel with money and weapons, of fighting in the borders of Afghanistan/Pakistan, incurring civilian casualties when we launch military strikes in Iraq -- all occupational hazards of fighting wars, we create new recruits for terror camps. They didn't like us before. We've been doing all the things that made 'em hate us from the get go - both right and wrong - for a long time.

Closing Gitmo was the right thing to do. You can't continue to defend who you are and what makes you great (liberty, justice, and civil rights) while running a place like Guantanamo Bay.

rocket science

2008-12-12T17:39:00.002-07:00

The other weekend we were at a Christmas play at an auditorium. We had some pretty crappy seats-- we'd gotten interested in going a little too late and most of the tickets were sold out. But, we thought it'd be nice to sit up on the balcony and all the way in the corner. We were on the front row of the upper balcony and the retaining wall in front of us was built a bit too high, so the seats were raised a good 4 inches from the normal height. 4 inches too high means your legs dangle, and your toes barely touch the floor. It's so painful to have the blood cut off on the weight of your legs at your knees, and you have constantly shift your weight so as to keep the blood going and the pain from setting in.

So the comfort far from us, and especially my poor pregnant wife, what else should happen but my nose start to run? It got worse and worse, and like an idiot I didn't bring any handkerchief or tissues to fix the problem. We had about 20 minutes before intermission, and the more I breathed the more I had to sniff it back up. The more I sniffed it back up, the more my nose run... I even had the bubble thing going at one point. It was getting bad. I had to do something. I didn't even care about my legs, I only wanted to relieve my breathing.

As the lights kept turning off so the audience could applaud, I could only focus on my respiratory problems. Then it hit me. It was dark, it was loud: no one could see or hear me. There was also not a single person to my immediate right- not even a seat. So I did it. I leaned over, crushed the cavity of one nostril, blew like the wind, and repeated for the other nostril. I felt the slag of my mucus bouncing off the nozzle of my nostril both sides, and it. was. SATISFYING. I blew so hard it didn't get on the outside of my nose, nor did it touch my arms, hand, or fingers.

I resumed clapping with everyone else and the lights came back on. Not even Mrs. Sixline realized what I had done. The entire ordeal lasted 3-4 seconds. But hey, when you have to blow your nose, and you have no hankeys, you have little options. Given my circumstances, it wasn't rocket science to blow snot rockets.

down for the count

2008-12-01T13:12:00.002-07:00

Two weeks ago, Mrs. Sixline and I spent 45 minutes with my family at my house on the way back to ours. From that brief encounter, she picked up a bug that was blazing through everyone in my family. After short exposure time, one was subjected to convulsive stomach cramps, very unenjoyable bowel movements, and feverish body temperatures. Like the husband I try to be, I did the little things around the house but I think I complained too much. Hopefully not too much... Anyway. After about 2 days of this Mrs. Sixline expressed her disgust at how seldom I got sick - even when everyone in my family got it, I did not. I couldn't help but be proud of myself. I never get sick.

And then the fever kicked in. Wednesday of last week, before Thanksgiving, I had a fever of 102F. I felt extremely achey, inflammed, tired, irritable, and sore. My fever broke that night and I slept terribly. Thanksgiving Day I was quarantined at my parents' house while they visited my side of the family and Mrs. Sixline visited hers. It was just me, my little poodle, and AMC's reruns of The Godfathers I and II. I was still not up to my best, so I ended up sleeping through most of both movies. Thursday night I thought I was on my way out of it when a disgusting sinus infection took place of the fever and I have been hacking and coughing and generally miserable since. It's tough to sleep when you have a convulsive cough...

Anyway. I did manage to see Twilight with my wife and thought it better than reported. I even read it. It's a fun book about falling in love and thinking that you'd die if you were apart from the person you cared about. I find it to be fairly harmless in that respect. It is nice to use Bella and Edward to vicariously remember the way Mrs. Sixline and I first began to court. But hey -- I've been warned to keep the sappiness to a minimum.

So yeah... Crappy Thanksgiving.

gay marriage, prop 8, and eHarmony

2008-11-19T20:55:00.004-07:00

One of my favorite Book of Mormon scriptures comes from Alma 30:

7 Now there was no law against a man’s belief; for it was strictly contrary to the commands of God that there should be a law which should bring men on to unequal grounds.

I've mused on it many times, as I'm quite fond of the story of Korirhor as detailed in the same chapter. It's not because I see a drama where an atheist gets punished and the righteous triumph. It's mainly because when I first read this, I found Korirhor's arguments compelling. But that's neither here nor there for what's been on my mind lately. The scripture as it pertains to the current events surround gay marriage, proposition 8 in California, and eHarmony paints the picture of how I feel on the matter.

Not a short time ago I posited aloud in Gospel Doctrine (Sunday School) that this verse gave me grounds for not being against gay marriage. It was not that I was pro gay marriage, or that I condoned it, not the case at all. It was a matter of unequal grounds. I have a hard time telling gay people they can't be married. Specifically, I have a hard time telling gay people they don't deserve the rights and benefits of legally sanctioned union. As you can imagine, the class didn't agree with me. When several of the class members approached me later, quite civilly I might add, I maintained my position that I had great fear of setting a precedent of dipping into morality to support legislation. What happens when it's not my morality that's being supported for legislation? There are a great many Evangelical Christian churches who feel that the Book of Mormon is nothing more than Satan's gift to mankind to blind and deceive. How would I react if a law was passed outlawing the Book of Mormon? Not entirely analogous to gay marriage, but insofar as I can tell, you would have two majorities supporting something that isn't lawful based on their views of morality. Gay marriage isn't legal and isn't illegal because we're still trying to define it.

At any rate, whether or not I was right or wrong in my fears is debatable. I supported the Church's decision to be against it, trusting that (thanks Chance for putting this so well) I raised my arm to the square and sustained President Monson not only as a prophet and revelator, but a seer. Prior to my decision to trust the Church was my coming across their statement concerning the official stance. In short, the Church is not against the offering of all the rights and benefits of marriage, but definitely against defining marriage as anything other than a man and a woman. This relieved me quite a bit. Civil unions never sounded so horrible to me. The reasoning outlined in the official statement explained that if the word "marriage" was to be officially defined as anything other than a man and a woman, then there would be considerable risk to the Church's sovereignty concerning marriage rites and ceremony. Mormons consider marriage in the Temple (not just a church meetinghouse but a Temple to the Most High) a most sacred endowment and a sealing by the power of God that lasts through eternity. Only the worthy from our own ranks are permitted to participate. The Church's right to say "no" to unworthy couples, including gays, would most assuredly be challenged.

Enter eHarmony. According to the LA Times, a homosexual man was upset that eHarmony did not cater to homosexuals and successfully sued the company over it. A New Jersey court ruled that a private business that does not offer essential services must change the way they do business and now allow gay people to search for their matches. The Church's statement seems prescient. I believe this is among the first steps of a -- dare I say it -- scary trend.

Speaking with another friend of mine whose knowledge prowess usually tips in favor of technical knowledge had a not-so-rare moment of logical clarity that so often accompanies a burst of knowledge - when your mind lights up and you say "Yes. This is true. This makes sense. This tastes good to my soul." Defining marriage as between a man and a woman does not deny rights. It simply secures the definition and protects businesses and Churches from conducting their affairs the way they see fit. Allowing legal, probate, housing, insurance, hospital visitation, and other rights to be conferred through the vehicle of a civil union should quell any fears or concerns of same-sex couples.

But it won't.

To top it off, I saw Affirmation - a group of self-declared GLBT Mormons - go on a local news network and claim they would not rest until the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints recognized them and their lifestyle as in harmony with the Gospel and teachings of the Savior.

In light of all this, I am permanently against defining marriage as anything other than a man and a woman.

cat's in the cradle...

2008-11-07T22:17:00.003-07:00

So he's almost here. February 22nd and he'll be here. I can't wait. I have all these daydreams of showing him how to field grounders, catch flyballs, throw a knuckler, how to putt and chip (I should learn those myself...) and of course, talking to him about my mission.

When I was growing up, I just always knew that serving a mission was something I wanted to do. It never felt like a duty, and it certainly never felt like something I had to do. My dad, despite having a generally positive experience when he was a missionary, never felt like pushing any of me or my brothers into it because he felt like that would be counterproductive. Sure enough, I know I served with a few guys who weren't out there for the right reasons.

I really felt like my mission was worth it. I don't mean that in the "it sucked but it built character and was good for me" kind of way. I'm being genuine. There is very little to the experience that I regret and none of those things were incidental to being a missionary but rather my own shortcomings. There was no one person I did not love. There was no one place I did not call home - truly home. This is all to say nothing of the way I developed my relationship and testimony of the Savior. I know it sounds corny, but often I would just sit back and reflect on the fact that everyone that was around me was a child of God. He knew them: their names, their families, their jobs, their fears, their hopes, their dreams, their concerns, their emotions, their desires... He knew them. It was a healthy dose of perspective to realize that the Lord knew and loved them as much as He knew and loved me.

Clearly, I wish for my son to have the same desires and the same experiences. In fact, I'm convinced that it's the desires and state of one's heart that allows one to have one experience over another. I just want my son to want to go. If I say he has to, then is he going to be one of those kids that wants to do the opposite? (And speaking of such, it's not like saying "I *don't* want you to eat your vegetables! I forbid it!!!" makes them want to eat those vegetables anymore... Why is that? The whole "I do the opposite of what you say" thing only applies to what they want.) I don't want to force him, and I don't want him to go out of obligation. And yet, the Savior recoiled at drinking the bitter cup but did it because He knew it was His spiritual duty.

Here's what I will do: Fondly speak of my mission and speak of it often. I want him to know that I desire him to go, but that he should only go if he feels he should.

And if he doesn't, he's out of the family.

For as many as heeded them, had fallen away.

2008-10-28T20:02:00.002-07:00

Sometimes the great and spacious building (GSB for short...) is far away on a hill and you look on it longingly, with the looming and foreboding sense of being left behind. What you really want is to feel accepted, and to feel important. And the more you think about how unhappy you are, the more you drift away from that blessed hill which giveth the fruit of eternal life. The siren's song takes you... warning cries and voices fade with the static and buzz of background and you move almost imperceptibly at first, but move you do and soon you're far from what's most important. You leave to seek what you already had, happiness and joy, in means and methods that cannot and will not produce such.

Sometimes the GSB is in your face, mocking your happiness and insulting your peace. It tries to make you ashamed of your blessings by telling you that you deserve more. The tricky part here is that if you are convinced that you're above you're blessings, then you really do have cause for shame, but not the way you've been convinced to feel it, and definitely not for those reasons.

Both these approaches appeal to your selfish pride, and try to undermine your spirituality by telling you that you are not happy with what you have and that you deserve more. Such suggestions insult the Lord's providence and good will in blessing you with what you need -- sometimes very different from what you want.

But what do you do when you know the adversary's game plan, and you don't move from your spot, but you still feel the emptiness of your position and the desire to be loved and accepted in the way that only the evil one can provide? I don't have the command of my emotional faculties to move those feelings out of the way on a whim. Even Nephi lamented that he too often gave the enemy such power over him and his heart. I suppose you press on, and you ignore the galling calls of the denizens of the great and spacious building.

big red couch

2008-10-26T11:03:00.003-07:00

The other day my folks came up to visit and we watched a bit of the news before going to grab a bite to eat. Right now, the only seating downstairs is a really dirty old brown couch whose pillows and cushions are sunken in. It also only seats 3 comfortably. You can fit 4 on there, but your knees start to slightly touch - you know, that "Why are you touching me?" kind of feeling that creeps in and makes you wildly out your element kind of knees touching.

So Mrs. Sixline and I wanted to purchase a sectional. Furniture store prices: $1200. Creepy salesman in converted garage warehouse discount furniture store price: $900. Craiglist/Classified Ads price: $350. We went with the final option. AND, to all you penny-pinchers out there, we took this directly out of savings and did not financially compromise ourselves in the slightest.

So now there's a humongous red sectional downstairs. It's fabric and not microfiber. If the sweet old lady who sold me the couch is to be believed, the couch was show furniture in a model home that sat in the same spot in front of the window for 3 years. Long time to have a model home, I know. So anyway, it's faded as all get out but I'm sure my intelligent and prodigious wife will find a way to re-dye the furniture. There's zero stains, wear and tear marks, and no sagging at all to the cushions. It's not completely comfortable because you really need an ottoman to go with it, so I'm sure we'll be scouring Overstock.com or the same classified ads to find it. Loading up the couch into my truck was a joy- because Mrs. Sixline is expecting, I did the whole thing myself.

So now we have to find out whether or not we want to keep the brown turd, how we'll re-arrange, and whether or not that TV will end up mounted to the wall. (More than likely yes. Anyone got any pointers on mounting those things? I don't want to buy a $120 mount only to find out it blocks where I connect cables.

oh no, i suck again!

2008-10-20T20:03:00.001-07:00

I kept putting it off and I never registered to vote.

Oh well. :(

Alma 12

2008-10-14T17:34:00.003-07:00

I've heard several times now from people that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints lied to them. They were not told that Joseph Smith married - and propositioned to marry - women who were already married themselves. They were not told that there are certain similarities - some of them stark - between the rituals of Freemasonry and the rituals of the LDS Temple Endowment. They were not told that Brigham Young wrote racist things. They all - to the last person - found these things out and felt duped and have since decided the Church was deceitful.

To be fair, I understand the frustration of their position. No one wants to be duped. No one wants to believe in a system of beliefs that aren't logical or rational.

At times, though, I've wanted to have experiences that made me able to relate in a positive way to those who have left the Church because of anger over being lied to. Frankly, I'm not sure how to respond to the claim that they were lied to. Certainly they feel deceived, I'm not going to deny them the right to feel the way they feel. But I keep coming back to the hope that if I can relate to them, and say "I went through the same thing and this is how I kept my testimony" then hopefully they can follow my example and keep their testimony alive as well.

But it's not on my shoulders to save these people. As a personality trait of mine, I have a hard time hearing the criticisms that are leveled against the Church without feeling defensive (negative connotation implied) and trying to defend the Church - with varying degrees of success (mostly "un-.")

It pains me when they're right. Why can't I go and look at the papryii? Why do Egyptologists say that Joseph Smith got the Book of Abraham wrong? Why did Brigham Young write those awful things? Why did Joseph Smith marry women who were already married?

I'm aware of the answers that are there. Some satisfy the curiosity and some do not. I do not believe the Church has lied to me. I think the Church has done its best to teach me faith in Christ, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and how to endow myself with power from on high to endure to the end. On the more embarrassing or 'sticky' parts of history and belief it has been silent-- never forbidding me to explore and to learn, nor encouraging me.

In short, I believe that as long as your heart is soft, the Lord will keep revealing more and more until you understand everything in full. Having the answers that will quell any concern for someone else is impossible; they must seek that light on their own.

Heroes

2008-10-13T21:17:00.002-07:00

Man, this show seems like it exploded without any real foresight. How many plot twists can there be? They just keep introducing new characters and changes in story - with sexy results! That South American chick who kills people when she gets stressed is the worst. Skimpy outfits and trysts with the Indian doctor dude.

Come on, folks. What happened to actually writing?!

Go Phillies. Go Rays.

Wake me up when September ends

2008-10-08T17:22:00.003-07:00

I will have a son. No, I didn't do the "WHAT A BOY!" exclamation only to have the doctor tell me that what I was referencing was the boy's leg or arm or something. I'm just glad to have a kid. Knowing it's a boy didn't really make me that excited in the beginning. It was like knowing what you were going to get for Christmas, but not seeing the present wrapped under the tree. Now that Mrs. Sixline is showing, I'm actually excited. I like to come home, rub her small protruding belly and smile. I always ask "How's my son?" And she always responds "We're doing great!" So there's been a lot of schmoopieness at our home in the past few days. Like newlyweds and those who are just falling for each other, I think first-time parents are allowed to be bubbly and excited at this. Just not in public, right? That's right.

So October is here and baseball is full of un-surprises. We shouldn't have been surprised that a Torre managed team with Manny Ramirez caught fire for the post-season. No, Alfonso Soriano, you weren't a part of the Yanks' success. It was all Torre. Steinbrenner, you're a cotton-headed ninnymonggins for letting Torre go. Morons run the most powerful franchise in baseball, it's only redeeming factor... Anyway, the Angels once again were post-season pwnd by the Red Sox, but at least the Rays are not going to back down. They've got swagger and poise, two of the most overused adjectives for young teams that don't know how to lose and aren't afraid bleeding because they've never bled. Boston will have to be on top of it. Unlike most post-season victories which are decided by bullpens, I think the ALCS will be decided by starting pitching. If you can last 5+ innings giving up only 1 or no runs, your team will win. More than 2 runs or less than 5 innings means you're a goner. From the NL I like the Dodgers if the Sox beat the Rays, and the Phillies otherwise. I just would like to see Manny go back to Boston. Very good October thus far. (Moron Cubs. HA!)

Politics, schmolitics. They're liars. Every one of them. I like to check Factcheck.org as of late to see who is full of the most bull. (Thanks Kermit for the link.) It seems as though all the zip and pizazz that McCain had as a follow-your-heart senator are gone. He just seems to be grumpy, and thanks to the media which is full of its own problems, I hear from him very seldom. That wouldn't be a problem except that when I do hear from him, I only hear the point that he's a better leader for war-like tumultuous times. A strong case, yes, but I think that with Obama as the CIC, strong allies like NATO and the EU will be more willing to work with us against Iran, Russia, and possibly China. In fact, I don't think that China necessarily poses a war-time threat to us. We're very much economic bedfellows, and while that's no guarantee, it's better than the pwnage we get from OPEC - half of whom hate our guts.

So yeah, man... life's good.

Autumn 2008

2008-09-28T18:50:00.001-07:00

How many times have I said I love Autumn? Too many. :)

Over at Picasa I posted a few pictures of myself and Mrs. Sixline in the gorgeous canyon just up the road from us.

Enjoy!

Can I be brutally honest?

2008-09-22T18:28:00.002-07:00

I lost the ability to say what I think when I know what I think. I slowly became aware that there are other folks out there who don't like what I say, and I'm naturally very much inclined to making folks happy. I don't like confrontation, and I don't like it when people don't like me.

You can chalk that up to whatever reason you want to, I've gone through several myself and none seem to make a whole lot of sense. I know for a fact that when pushed far enough, I do stand up for myself and so I don't consider myself coward in the traditional sense. But far too often I find myself backing down from everyday fights - arguments, mostly - because I either don't feel it's worth it or because I'm afraid of losing.

The really aggravating thing is that I spend just as much time wondering if everyone else struggles with the same thing rather than just letting it go.

I'm liking Palin less now.

2008-09-14T09:30:00.003-07:00

I'm tired of war. I don't want war with Iran for the sole offense of developing nuclear weapons. I need more than a "the bully bought a gun" reason. ESPECIALLY after it has become clear that the claim that Iraq had and would use weapons of mass destruction were inflated. I do recognize there are no easy answers when it comes to national security but I really like how Obama wants to try diplomacy first. It reminds me - and permit me this example - of Starfleet operations. Ask questions first, shoot later. The captains always attempted to talk things out and compromise before powering weapons. I initially was very impressed with Palin, but the ABC interview gave me pause. It wasn't her lack of originality, or inability to answer questions off script. Though that made me wonder if McCain picked her because Obama did not pick Hillary, I got the impression that she's really all right with war and feels that the war in Iraq is sanctioned from a higher power. She has that right: she sent her son to fight. And you will never hear me criticize the faithful who serve. But I'm not convinced they're protecting our freedoms. I don't believe there was a legitimate threat to our freedom by Saddam Hussein. I also don't believe you can walk up and down the international neighborhood trying to size up any threat to your well being and attempting to neutralize it if it meets certain criteria known only to a very very small group.

The wars are fight with my brothers and sisters. They could be fought with me. I have a right to know what the reason is.

This is why diplomacy will work. The longer you have a rogue nation talk, the more it will become clear what their intentions are. The world is a big place and though America does not need physical support to fight a war, having international moral support is extremely beneficial. Morale counts for so much.

Anyway. I've been feeling misled by many. Everyone has an agenda. Everyone. The European news agencies who take an overtly critical and cynical tone have an agenda. The bipartisan bickering and quasi-gossip news related channels in America have an agenda. Out of mainstream news outlets with their explosive accusations and shocking revelations have an agenda. My own government has agendas. Don't think for one moment that I believe that Georgia and its Ossetian counterpart were just chilling when big mean ole bad Russia came roaring in with tanks and guns blazing. I'm not so naive to think that President Bush wouldn't try to push up a man who was pro-Washington and anti-Kremlin and call it 'spreading democracy.'

These are the reasons we go to war. These are the reasons we send our American troops to go and fight. It's not black and white, and it's damn sure not simple to find out what the just cause is. International politics are so convoluted and twisted that I'm tired of it. I do not want war. I do not want peacekeeping missions. I'm so disgusted by everything that the slightest mention of war with Iran by a politician (re: Palin) makes me sick. I would so much rather let China be the world super power and let America withdraw from the world scene and let us clean our own inner vessel. I want to clean up the mortgage crisis and credit crunch, develop renewable energy that is clean and independent of foreign powers, develop education so that young Americans value learning. I want the young ones to stop choosing universities based on successful football programs. I want free health care. It's a right and not a privilege to keep your body in working order. We have so much to work on here at home. So much.

uhmmmm...

2008-08-27T20:10:00.002-07:00

I wanted to say something important but I don't know what.

I miss my friends dearly. I miss their children and I really wish that life let us live closer.

I read on the intertubes today about DefCon, the unofficial hacker convention. Computer security has always been an interest to me; I used to download network scripts that ran attacks when I was younger. In my IRC days I used to think of myself as l33t, but I didn't know a thing. I still don't know a thing about hacking. I didn't take any computer architecture courses, but my embedded systems courses and digital systems courses make me familiar with the concepts. I've kicked around the idea of getting a book or two on hacking just to understand what it's all about. Seriously, just for understanding.

Anyway.

So yesterday, at the doctor's, I can't even begin to describe the wash of relief when I heard the baby's heart beat again. The doctor said she saw something between his legs, and she's laboring under the impression that it was the male organ. (I think if I write the 'p'-word my own internet filter will block my own blog... Can't have that.) So maybe it's a boy. Nice.

my faithful audience...

2008-08-22T20:31:00.003-07:00

I guess my family's now reading this... I should be careful in the things that I say...

Work: It's ok.

Home life: My 'yard' is overgrown with weeds and the HOA finally added the fence in the back which faces the street. We're constrained by our benevolent and fearless neighborhood entity of uppity white people to put in a vinyl fence. To have those things professionally installed is going to be like $20/linear foot. I can't believe that. I have about 200 feet to put in! Looks like I'll be doing this on my own.

Thesis: Round 2 begins. My professor has it and is going through it. When he sends it back to me I'll do the second pass of edits and then hopefully the last one will just be some fine tuning and then the defense will happen. It needs to happen.

Wife: 14 weeks tomorrow. We see the doctor again on Tuesday to make sure our little baby is still healthy, so I'm looking forward to it.

Arabic: Been slow. I need to get on it.

ahlan!

2008-08-07T18:14:00.003-07:00

I am learning Arabic!

I got in contact with a professor of Arabic and Middle Eastern Studies out of BYU who was gracious enough to accord me with student access to his online resources. This includes listening exercises, quizzes, tests, notes, and vocabulary! I am very lucky to have been included in this group. I intend on buying his books for his class and following along at my own pace. Thank you professor!!!

Learning languages is something I really dig. I dare say I have the gift of tongues-- at least the ease in learning it variety. I've never spoken in an unknown dialect and I certainly don't have a cloven tongue of fire (Acts 2), but I feel a special gift has been bestowed on me. I never tire of learning new ways of saying something. I never get discouraged. It's the one area in my life where I can take the most critical abuse and not bat an eye and get down on myself. I wish I could say the same for other areas.

Here's the Uncle Sixline Marvelous Method of Language Learning:
1.) Learn the basic grammar rules
2.) Learn the basic vocabulary
3.) Listen to a basic conversation snippet (over and over) ^ n | n = the number of times you need to train your ear to pick up on all the words and recognize them
4.) Repeat, increasing intensity and complexity.

It worked for French, I don't see why it won't work for Arabic.

"But Uncle Sixline, why do you want to learn Arabic? Isn't that the language of the terrorists? I knew you had left leanings on the political scale, but are you a freedom hater?"

Good question, Timmy!

No, I'm not a freedom hater. There are many reasons why I want to learn Arabic. Some, if it makes sense, are personal and I'm not inclined to share them here. But for what it's worth, I feel that the only true way to understand someone is to understand the way the speak. Their speech is an outlet of their thoughts, and the patterns in one are intrinsically linked to the other. For cultures wrapped around Arabic, the influence of Islam and how that shapes an Arab's world and religious views are paramount. For Islam, the operative language for reading the Qu'ran in its purity (and hence its understanding) is Arabic. Thus, to understand Arabic is to begin to understand Islam. To understand Islam is to begin to understand the Arab's place in the world and his history. To begin to understand that is to understand the Arab today.

Understandably, as a faithful Mormon, I am very interested in the events surrounding the Middle East. What has become of Ishmael's progeny? Were they not sons of Abraham, and do they not have a stake in his blessings? What do I make of Muhammad, and of his teachings? What role will all this play in the second coming of Christ the Lord? Doesn't the Palestinian deserve a safe environment in the Holy Land just as much as the Israeli?

As I begin to understand Arabic, I hope it will help me understand the very complex issues that surround these sons and daughters of Ishmael, and ultimately of God.

That's why, Timmy.

PS - Mrs. Sixline is 11.9 weeks along! Yippee! I suppose I'm not longer 'Uncle' Sixline...

huh.

2008-07-29T17:06:00.002-07:00

I'm going to be a father.

Last Tuesday, we went and saw Mrs. Sixline's doctor. After a few forms and a little bit of waiting in the brand new Mother's wing of the local hospital, we were admitted back. Before we knew it, some gel had been sprayed on Mrs. Sixline's tummy and a black and white real-time image of my child was on the screen. I'm the proud parent of a lima bean. Of course, in the past week I'm sure it's a little bigger now. But at 9 weeks, the baby's rapid heartbeat was audible and the outline was visible. Its little nubby arms and legs were flailing about. Of course, I use the words 'arms' and 'legs,' but they were really just small appendages without joints or digits.

Now, I suspect you're wondering about how I felt in all this. And I don't really know how. Just typing this up feels so mechanical. Any description of feeling feels contrived and shallow. I've started and stopped this post more than a few times. I even tried removing the expressions I'm prone to use in an effort to sound more genuine. To checklist the emotions, yes, I am excited. Yes, I am looking forward to being a father. I suppose it doesn't feel real-- though it did feel real enough after the ultrasound.

But part of me hasn't let go of the bitterness that comes with infertility. Several of my very good friends are still waiting to be expecting, and with one case, the odds are very much stacked against them. I don't want to feel excited. I don't want to bounce off the walls. I just want to be content and I am quietly eager to be a father.

And there's also this nagging feeling that people don't appreciate it when you glory in your successes, but I'm not writing this to seek permission to be happy, so don't say "Well gosh, of course you're allowed to be happy." That will earn you a punch in the nose.

February 22, or thereabouts, and barring any unforeseen difficulties, we should be welcoming a child into the world.

skepticism and belief

2008-07-21T20:48:00.002-07:00

Some things I'm very skeptical of. Others I buy in hook line and sinker.

Example of gullibility:

~phone rings - it's Mrs. Sixline~
Me: Hey hon, what's up?
Her: You will not believe this! They're all sold out of Batman tickets!
Me: What?!
Her: Yeah! They're sold out until Monday!
Me: NO WAY!
Her: HEHEHEHEHE! I got youuuuu!

Example of skepticism:

I don't really have a concrete example. I know I don't buy into religious or political stuff very easy. When people make a claim, I always want a source-- not so much to piece together the facts for verification, but mainly to figure out motivation. I think everyone's just out to get me on their side when it comes to politics. When it comes to religious matters, I tend to be most skeptical of LDS 'faith promoting rumors.' I have a really hard time at Institute-- mainly because I just can't accept something so quickly and so easily. What's really hilarious is that I tend to give negative criticism more of a free pass than faith promoting stories.

I don't think a religious guy can be categorically placed in the 'skeptics' bin. I especially don't feel they're birds of my feather; when I thumb through the atheist section at Border's I can never even come to agree with the thrust of their argument let alone sit through the details supporting it. The main thing, though, is that I refuse to accept a cosmic existence where good and evil go unrewarded and unpunished. I refuse to believe the final mark on the Jew's life in Auschwitz was a corrupt scheme of evil men systematically murdering others on the sole basis of religious persuasion. I refuse to believe that there will be no justice served to those who perpetrate the most horrible of crimes. And, the empty imminence of an aheistic view-- the stark void of Divine help and Providence -- is just too unfair. Is there no help for the widow's son? Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no end to suffering? An end of existence certainly meets the criteria, but what good is it when one cannot enjoy the peace that comes from a fruitful existence? I just don't buy it.

But, I don't want to be fooled, either. No... I don't want to be fooled. I don't want heroes, I don't want stories, I don't want a faith promoting history. I want the truth. People are people and they're going to shock and surprise you. They're not going to live clear cut good or bad lives. They're going to look out for themselves; they're not perfect.

So why is it that the Church mainly shows the good parts of our stories in lessons, manuals, and Church sponsored events? Because it's their job to help you with your faith, repentance, baptismal covenants, and endeavours in seeking the Holy Ghost, that's why. It's not their job to make sure you know what Brigham Young said about black folks, or how many women Joseph Smith was married to. It's their job to make sure you have faith and exercise it unto repentance. "How come you never told me?" some say. I say "How come you never asked?" The answers don't matter until the questions are asked.

torture

2008-07-15T17:36:00.003-07:00

Gitmo, Guantanamo, whatever you want to call it.

It's wrong. We're holding people without due process of the law. We're holding people on some really shaky and highly circumstantial evidence. Torture is wrong. It's ineffective. It needs to stop.

hold to the rod

2008-07-04T09:56:00.002-07:00

I ride in a van to work. It's easy on the wallet, as we share the gas. It's also easy on me, because the commute to work is about 45 minutes one way. I can nap, read, or talk. I've already been through 3 books in the past 5 months.

And this is where the post gets difficult. How to say it, and how to say it and have the meaning carry over. There are times when I desperately want someone to see something exactly how I do, so that I can comfort myself in being understood. It's tough not being a good writer. It's also tough being a heart-on-your-sleeve kinda guy... Makes me feel like a wuss.

Yesterday I had a long conversation with a French/Swiss guy who happens to be in my van. He's a nice guy, and we've talked before. Yesterday I got the full story on why he is no longer a believing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's hard enough hearing someone tell me why Joseph Smith's polyandry, blacks and the Priesthood, and other common concerns have driven them from partaking in the blessings of the Gospel, but two things particularly stung yesterday.

First, I hate it when French folks turn away from the Gospel. It hurts a million times more than any regular other Joe. It hurts, and it hurts bad.

Secondly, I'm starting to see myself in a lot of these exit stories. People become disaffected and quit because they can't find the answers they're looking for. They complain that the Church doesn't tell people about the more obscure details of the history of the Church or of the lives of early Church leaders. One side of me says "Well, why should they? Do you or don't you have faith that Joseph Smith saw God?" We have a tendency to dismiss the things we do know because of details that suggest that it's all a falsehood. I can't blame people for feeling the immense and deep frustration they feel. And sometimes... though I'm afraid to admit it... It feels as though I'm bound for the same fate. That is not a friendly feeling.

And so I hold to the rod, trodding slowly onward until that day when I get to the tree of life. Where else am I going to go? To atheism? Hardly. There are too many things have convinced me of God's existence. To Islam, Judaisim, Hinduism, or another non-Christian religion? No... not possible. Too many things have convinced me humanity needs a Savior. To Catholicism, Protestantism, or Evangelicalism? I would still have concerns and worries with them, though a different set. So where shall I go? The answer is: nowhere. I will stay where I am, confident that all will make sense at some point in time.

i'm not that important.

2008-06-28T19:58:00.002-07:00

And I'm OK with it. Sometimes the jealousy bug bites and I wish I had more clout-- at work, through the fanhood of the blog (I think of extremely popular blogs and discussion forums), or even around the 'hood.

But why, do you ask, are you not that important, Mr. Sixline? You're so eloquent, interesting, zippy, intelligent, cogent, and regal. Well, the thing, dear friends, is this: there are a lot of voices out there. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I ventured into Borders today-- something I very much enjoy. I wanted to find a book, seeing as how I just finished Uncle Tom's Cabin. But shucks, folks, there's a ton of info out there! A thousand voices with a thousand tales, and how is one to sort who is important and who is not?

I'm not sure. But when I see the loud tumult, the clamoring for an audience, and the croaking desire to feel important, I find it easier to be at peace with the fact that I'm not that important.

PS - I am important, it would seem, to a computer somewhere in the Middle East. According to my little visitor's map, there are three sites somewhere near Riyadh or Medina in Saudi Arabia that are constantly visiting this blog. Are you search bots? Are you servers and hosts, or what's going on there? Say something. You guys account for like 90% of the hits here.

ugh

2008-06-22T15:48:00.001-07:00

I never update.

We're still alive, and we're still kicking. Life is OK, though I feel like throttling my advisor, myself, and my thesis. Why didn't I just stick around and get it finished?

Shucks.

I'm also really tired of going down south to see family every weekend. Sometimes I just want to enjoy MY house-- is this too much to ask?

I suppose it is.

Before and after

2008-06-08T15:37:00.002-07:00

Mrs. Sixline and I celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary! Hooray! She hasn't poisoned or left me yet. (Yet...)

So we were walking around DI and found this gorgeous and non particle board crafted piece of furniture. We spent our Saturday sanding, painting, and replacing hardware. I'll have to get some close ups of the hardware, but for now, let these pics suffice.

Before:

After:

We really should have left the original hardware on the 'before' picture. I had already removed it when I remembered to snap the photo, and was too lazy to put it back on. The hardware was spendy... About $40 for everything. Plus $80 for the original piece... The local DI gets a little spendy sometimes. But hey-- like I said: No particle board. There's a thick cardboard cutout that serves as the back for it, but that seems to just keep the torsional movement limited. The drawers, panels, doors, and everything else are made of what appears to be pine. It's solid and heavy as sin. We loved the final product! Enjoy.

on importance and self-respect

2008-05-25T22:17:00.003-07:00

In a pensive moment the other day I pondered the idea of self-respect and for the first time viewed my personality and regular modus operandi in an honest and critical manner. I've been self critical before. Most folks see themselves in the mirror and criticize themselves, for starters. The meandering paths that branch off the main road of self doubt, pity, and negativity are too many to be numbered. I am no different, and I have expended great energies in lambasting and debasing myself in hopes of... of... well, I never quite figured out what I get out of that.

This time, it was a bit different. Respect. It means different things to different people in different walks of life. What did it mean to me? I'm not sure I'm able to really articulate it, but it felt like-- for redundancy's sake-- pure and simple respect. The best I can come up with is as lack of shame when viewing myself. Do you ever read old journal entires, or think of times when you were younger and tried to be a self-respecting mature person? If you're like me, you cringe at those thoughts. I hate reading my old journal entires. They're pathetic. Just once I'd like to see myself in a positive light. Just once.

I'm not naive enough to think that just because I have that desire I will immediately see the results. The law of the harvest is harmonious with Mother Earth's.

But I did make a connection between self-respect and the feeling of being important. I was in a beautiful canyon near the Uintah mountains. I wish I had descriptive powers, I would relate to you a metaphorical scene, one in which the terrain was the human soul, the mountains were the pillars of morals and principles, and the snow coursing down the crags and collecting into violent churning rapids cleansed the soul and brought new life. There was so much water... Everything was melting and any ditch that dipped below the general surface of the ground was filled with it. It was transcendant-- enough to put anyone in an existential mood least of all me.

I was with Mrs. Sixline's side of the family. For all mine and their faults, we sometimes get caught up in the competitiveness of it all. Particularly in temporal matters and who is the furthest down the road of success. A new 5th wheel had been purchased, and Mrs. Sixline and I caught up with some of the camping family and had a little barbecue. I had time to sit and reflect on how I can very much be a different person around different people. I temper some character traits and accentuate others. It reeks of frailty and a lack of self-respect-- fear of being one's true self despite one's surrounding. The key there, of course, is not to be obtuse and difficult and let the world go to hell, but rather to choose one's character model such that one would not be ashamed of one's self irrespective of one's surroundings. As I have not yet reached such a pinnacle of self-acceptance and respect, I am left to be tossed about until such a time as I may put to port and begin the trek up that mountain.

But I digress. Sort of.

I linked, in my mind, the idea of importance, self-respect, and confidence. For the sake of explanation, this microcosm that is the in-laws largely represents how I feel around other folks. At work, in public, at social gatherings, etc... I am at a very alarming loss, at times, of how to conduct myself. Of how to be persuasive. Of formulate cogent thought. Of how to think. Put simply, I feel stupid. Embarrassingly stupid. Not quick enough, not bright enough, not smart enough, not thorough enough, not enough.

To fix this, it dawned on me, I have to begin to throw out the silly notion that others will give me that self-respect. Looking to what others think of you and relying on those positive reviews is short sighted and temporary. Respecting yourself as a child of God will instill a sense of purpose, which will give way to feelings of importance.

multiply and replenish

2008-05-12T16:25:00.002-07:00

It's a commandment, and I am thus far unable to fulfill it.

Is it strength in the Gospel to have an understanding of all things? I don't think so. I think I just feel weak because I'm given to pose my questions aloud and seek answers. One of those heart on your sleeve kinda guys.

Anyway. Mother's Day sucks around here but I'm glad for those who are able to celebrate it.

Thanks for the ideas, HGTV.

2008-05-03T07:24:00.001-07:00

We painted. I don't have before and after pictures. Enjoy!

Thanks, M.

2008-04-22T20:48:00.002-07:00

I used to get crushes very easily. While I have two sisters with whom I share a healthy relationship, it was not always so. I didn't grow up with my sisters as my friends. I was just weird that way. I consider it entirely my fault. It's not my intent to explore that part of my life, just to give the background for the following.

In my youth, LDS Stake dances were, to use a technical term, the shiznit. Like most testosterone driven young men who attempt to define themselves through various personalities and characteristic traits during the formative teenage years, I wanted girls to like me. But they didn't. They liked TJ instead. Everyone liked TJ. He was nice, intelligent, outgoing, good looking, charming, and most importantly, understood women-- to the extent a young man can.

I, on the other hand, had good qualities, I'm sure, but I was completely unrefined. I had no concept of a healthy relationship with a woman; I only had my parents' strong and long marriage as my example. I didn't know what it was like to be friends with a girl and this led to me missing the proverbial boat on how to flirt. It didn't help that I was an engineer in disguise; flirting had no immediate goal. Its primary use, a proving ground to see if there's interest, was completely lost on me. Why flirt? Do you like me, yes or no? (Please check one and send back to me.) So when girls were friendly, I immediately mistook their attempts at friendship as a direct signal of their strong interest in me. There were a few exceptions, of course, but by and large this was the rule.

This is best illustrated through a brief recollection of my encounter with a young woman I shall call 'M.' She had long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and all the other attributes that go along with making a young man attracted to a young woman. Her friend was a reckless flirt, and was quite liberal in flirting with me. For about 2 months her friend had a real interest in me-- calling me on the phone, making sure she talked to me at Church, writing my name in fancy cursive and frilly framed borders on her notebook, and so forth. Like I said, though, it only took 2 months for her to find her new flavor and move on. I wasn't completely smitten over her, so I wasn't too broken up about it. This 'relationship,' however, had an interesting side effect. I was able to make friends with M. During the times her friend would call me, it was not uncommon for for M to chat with her on the phone. I got to know M a little, find out what she was like, and I had no illusions of her interest in me because her friend was the one who liked me.

So I was rather surprised that M continued her friendship with me after her friend decided she liked someone else. (To my deepest content, however, her attention did not turn to TJ. Everyone liked TJ...) She would still talk to me on the phone, although less frequently. She would still dance with me. She would still laugh at my lame jokes and be very pleasant and bright and all the wonderful innate qualities women have that make grey and rainy life bright and vibrant. After a few months the cogs began turning in my head-- lamentably, though, they turned the wrong way. "Surely M likes me. Surely she's interested in me. She talks to me all the time, she dances with me, she calls me. She remembers my name!" That last one might have been reason enough, but it was the extra length of rope with which I quickly hung myself.

At the next Stake dance, I tried to poetically declare my affection for M, convinced she shared it. I picked a slow song, asked her to dance, and during the dance revealed to her my feelings for her. It's strange, in retrospect, to think that I didn't ask her if she liked me. Perhaps I wasn't so convinced she liked me, but rather her interest in me gave me confidence to take a bold step. I suppose it doesn't really matter. I was quite surprised by her response. She took a step back, snapping away from our dance. In the middle of the song she said, with a look of... yes... horror... on her face: "What?! I... I just don't believe you!" and with that she stormed off. I had very little contact with her after that.

I did not understand. At all. I hurt, but you know how teens are... I forgot about her fairly quickly. I hadn't given it much thought until a few days ago.

You see, I think that due to my lack of experience when relating with women outside of a romantic nature, I have been quite unable to imagine why a man and a woman would have any kind of relationship outside of their family-- spouse or sibling. Professional relationships made sense; they were superficial and trite. You got along with women at work because you respected them as a co-worker. There was little camaraderie. If there ever was, I felt guilty. If I found a woman particularly attractive, it was exponentially more difficult to talk to them for fear I'd find them attractive and develop some kind of extra-marital relationship with them. Not that I think the unthinkable would happen, but I'll be honest: that's what I was convinced of.

As I've matured (yes, it happens slowly. Even the largest of glaciers move-- even if it's a few inches every year) I've come to make friends with women I was not married to. Most, if not all, of these women are very beautiful-- looks, personality, and the other aforementioned pleasantries with which women are gifted.

This has been a little threatening to me. Please-- don't think that I have ludicrous presuppositions of infidelity. But in bitter and embarrassing honesty, I convinced myself through the years that infidelity was the fruit of friendship beyond spouse and sibling. This result was even more imminent in my mind if I found the woman attractive. (I'll bet some of you are laughing by now. I suppose it sounds absurd.)

M taught me a lesson, even though it's taken almost 11 years to finally sink in. I can be friends with women. My paradigm is shifting just slightly. I still find it unwise to be alone with a woman who is not your spouse or sibling. I'm still uncomfortable with women I don't know. I will always find it unwise to seek to cultivate friendships beyond your spouse. The point of marriage is to grow together; she is my primary interest and my primary source of joy, love, and fulfillment. I will not undermine the hard work she has put into me.

But I'm finally realizing that there are Daughters of God that have platonic interest in my friendship inasmuch as our lives cross paths, without any ulterior motives. And it took 26 years...

follow on

2008-04-05T20:10:00.002-07:00

So the earlier post stems from an incident at a fish store today. As many of you know, I'm very much into salt water aquaria-- fish and coral. I recently came into a relatively cheap purchase of a 90 gallon tank, complete with an overflow. (That's beyond the scope of this post. Suffice it to say that it helps for coral reef aquarium filtration.)

So I stop by the fish store, curious to know how much a stand and canopy will be. I don't have oodles of cash, so I naturally want to stretch my dollar. This guy had an ego the size of Alaska. His explanations of what he had were really wearing on me. I got the feeling from him that unless you spend an exorbitant amount of money on equipment (namely... HIS equipment...) you were doomed to failure. His tanks wouldn't eventually leak the others would. His stands wouldn't warp due to moisture the way others would. His was great, my ideas stunk.

This drug on for the better part of a half hour. I got tired of listening to it, but I didn't want to be rude. So I politely nodded while half listening to him and trying to interject where I saw fit. After one particular item of disagreement, he said to me "Yeah, well, I know what it's like. I used to be a really poor college kid who made tons of mistakes." Dropping the air of politeness I furrowed my face in a distaste manner and said "What? Is that how you see me?" He didn't even register my disgust and kept going. At this point I was very upset, and very desirous for a pissing contest.

Who is this guy, anyway? Some tiny fish store owner for a relatively obscure western 'bustling' metropolis? Come on... I'm a rocket scientist, beeyotch. I'm an engineer. And then after I triumphantly made him aware of that fact, I'd throw him a gang sign, and he'd cow in front of my obviously superior ability to pee. (Urinating contest, remember?)

But, I had my toy poodle in my arms and dudes aren't normally imposing with a poodle in their arms.

So I left.

the measure of a man

2008-04-05T14:20:00.002-07:00

What curries respect from others?

The clothes? The attitude? The learning? The bragging? The money you make? The language you use?

I admit; I want people to think I'm start, strong and confident. I want them to seek my advice and my opinion. I want them to think my reasoning is sound and my logic unbreakable. Obviously life doesn't work this way. No matter how you try and present yourself, there are those who are going to think you're a complete imbecile. Yes, yes, don't worry what others think. Regardless of what some will say, I am not worried what others think. What I am worried about is whether or not they have a point. Is my reasoning sound? Am I sufficiently educated on a subject such that my opinion is valid?

I think my problem is giving others too much credit. A bit of brother in law medicine might be in order; maybe I should start thinking others are idiots. It's just not in my nature.

am i ashamed?

2008-04-02T17:18:00.002-07:00

I've noticed a recent trend in the way I approach non-Mormons. I think it's called shame.

I feel reluctant to be so cavalier about sharing my faith. I feel... I feel like I've been bitten one too many times. It feels like... It feels like unless the sharing of the gospel message is solicited, it feels forced down someone's throat. So I don't do it. When I see other members talk to people who aren't members and it's uninvited, I feel sick. I feel embarrassed.

There, I said it. I feel embarrassed.

So there it is. Now what?

islam

2008-04-01T17:42:00.002-07:00

I've been reading a book by Daniel C. Peterson concerning ...

Man I have no idea how to talk about it. The name of the book, Abraham Divided, talks about the rift between the Jews and the Muslims. I know, I know, I'm being so overly simplistic and so is the book. But, I feel it's very even handed and... well... It's a good read. Seriously, check it out.

'till we meet...

2008-03-27T19:39:00.003-07:00

Goodbye, Grandpa. I am proud to carry the family name, and prouder still to be among your progeny. You will be sorely missed.

lilith fair

2008-03-19T18:35:00.003-07:00

The only poignant thing I have to say is too raw to really communicate.

Basically, a friend of mine and I were discussing via email the frustrations we feel as men and women are pitted one against each other. I mused that (like how I worked 'muse' in there? pretty sweet...) Satan started a long time ago convincing us that we weren't equal. Exploiting-- or planting the seed and cultivating-- the male's tendency to dominate, he got most of us cotton-headed ninny monggins to think women were substandard and inferior. That persisted for an extremely long time until women (rightfully) wouldn't hear any more of it and have made lengthy strides towards making sure they weren't brushed aside. Men were shirking the role of husband and instead being unrighteous stewards. That's not how the Lord intended us men to govern. So he had men shirking the idea of marriage...

Of course, now that women are leveling the playing field Satan's got a good lot of them thinking that marriage is absolutely not the way to do it. Sure, equality can be had, he says, but how? Not by investing in one another, not by being good mothers. Mothers are weak and vulnerable. Mean old rotten husbands have been treating those losers like trash since the dawn of time. And guess what? He was successful at making sure that ended up being true.

He's got a lot of people working toward equality between man and woman, but marriage is not the way he wants them to do it.

Sucks.

be my friend!

2008-03-12T18:23:00.003-07:00

When I was 12 I decided that killing myself for someone's friendship when that person wasn't even inclined to like me in the first place was not only profanely asinine, it was also obscenely demeaning to myself. Who would I be kidding? They only liked me if I did things they liked. It was retarded. I wasn't going to play a part of that.

So for the most of middle school (some folks call it junior high; it was grades 6-8) I was a total reject. The trend started to buck in high school when you got 'cool points' (or something) for being original, but then we moved from the South to the West and I started over being on the outside again.

I didn't give a rat. Never have, never will.

But that was kids at school. That was a bunch of whining entitled brats who thought they'd feel better about themselves if surrounded by others who wanted their friendship. I'm sure, on a subconscious level of course, that when you are the object of another's desire (even if platonic) the message is sent that you have worth. It's not a bad gig, and I don't hold any particular malice (or do I?) towards those who denied me their friendship.

But I do have a struggle with my mission companions and those I served. I desperately want their friendship. I loved my mission. It meant so much to me; I poured my heart and soul into it. When I came back, I really expected a party of closely knit good friends waiting for me. I should have seen the writing on the wall, though... Most of the Elders I served with had already paired themselves up with BFF's to attend the other blue University in this state. I wasn't going there. (Huge can o' worms there...) As such, I was on the outside. As such, I didn't think anyone really wanted my friendship and ended up hurting a few of the ones who did because I didn't go to any great lengths to contact anyone immediately upon my return. (I apologized for to the ones I hurt, and meant it. I feel they've forgiven me. At least I hope they have.)

But where does that leave me now?

I have tried to contact a few of the people I served with. I was hoping for a more natural friendship, but I suppose the transition from the world of white shirts and ties to flip flops and goatees is a taller hurdle for some than it is for others. I've tried looking up and calling a few of the guys I thought I was close to. If we were to take the litmus test of enthusiasm, I was dead wrong about how close I was to them.

That kind of hurts. I mean, I can't push my expectations of friendship on someone else, and I'm definitely not going to be the gimpy nerdy kid who begs others for their friendship. I'm also not going to have any false pretenses about my likability. I'm somewhat comfortable with the fact that I annoy the poop out of scores of personality types and the people who fit them. It's not easy, because I like it when people like me (who wouldn't?!) and I am a fierce and loyal friend when the fraternity and love is reciprocated. I understand that naturally I'll get along with some better than others as interests and personalities align, but for the most part I make no man my enemy. (FMH, on the other hand...)

I realize this is long-winded, but it's been a long time coming. I have mixed feelings of anger and pain when I think of my mission, as well as the deluge of joy and love. It's hard to categorize; I guess what I'm trying to get at is that I miss the friendship and wish that I could have carried that with me back home. It's a real shame I missed that boat.

(As an end note, there is one Elder I never served with directly but went on exchanges with that has kept very good contact with me and I can't even begin to describe my gratitude for that. He is an upstanding man and priesthood holder; he has my utmost respect and loyalty. I thank him.)

Bad movies and bad TV

2008-03-09T10:34:00.002-07:00

I'm not a film critic. I've been told that white folks such as myself prefer to refer to movies as films, and they take things like the Oscars very seriously. I'm not such a person.

I've talked about TV before. I've said how unless it involves my current favorite comedy, a ball and scoreboard, or Captain Picard (Kirk, Janeway, Sisko, and Archer are suitable substitutes), I just don't watch.

And I just can't.

I think reality TV is retarded. I think the producers' attempt to take normal people who are prone to two things-- exceedingly good looks and/or outrageous behavior-- and pit them together in scantily clad ambitious competitions subtly conducting contrived social experiments with sexy/explosive results is reprehensible. It's not entertainment to me. It's boring. It's high school behavior lauded, applauded, and backed by lucrative marketing deals in your living room.

I think epic and blockbuster movies are largely forgettable. Some movies are just so boring and predictable with rigid acting, toxic dialog (toxic because the unnatural conversation and communication makes me sick to the pit of my stomach) and lethargic plot lines. Take Fantastic Four. It was terrible. TERRIBLE. They tried to special effects/Jessica Alba their way into a profitable box office endeavor. It was shameful that the junk passed for a movie. (Don't get me started on movies that try to score cheap laughs off some catch phrase some stupid kid utters. "Radical, dude!" is not good comedy. It's just not. Stop doing this, Adam Sandler. Every one of your movies involves an old person or a young person saying something foul, uncouth, and laced with sexual reference. Stop it!!!)

As I type this, I feel so dang guilty. My poor family loves a lot of the type of movie and TV show I find to be of such low caliber. I don't want to personally insult anyone for their choice in TV or "film." So I'm going to pull a 180 and say you like what you like and that's all there's to it.

Whew! What an update!

2008-02-28T21:13:00.002-07:00

Mrs. Sixline and I moved. We're about 10 miles up the road from where we were, bought a home that is way too big for us (waiting on kids and aren't moving for at least 15 years), and I have since started my job at ATK.

AND, to top it all off, we've been spending roughly $100 per day trying to get crap we need. In fact, we decided to finance a washer and dryer through Lowe's (got 10% off that way) I just got done hooking everything up. I was pretty proud of myself; normally I'm not very handy. But, with an intrepid indomitable spirit, I read the instructions of how to hook up my gas dryer, followed them, hooked it up, went to Lowe's to build a make-shift drain (I just wanted to bring a pipe up from the drain near the floor so that it would be easier for the washer hose to reach), and started a load. Well, Mrs. Sixline did. I suppose it's her right, she picked out a front loading washer and dryer from Whirlpool and I guess they're pretty. ~shrugs~ She's liking it.

I need to make sure I'm up for when I start the gas dryer. I hope that this isn't my last post ever... Don't want to blow us both to kingdom come. Anyway.

We're in our house, it's slowly being un-packed and finished (the builder's driving me a bit nuts, but I suppose most contractors are tough to deal with), and we're very much enjoying life. Once my thesis is completely defended and school is a done deal, we are going to enjoy life that much more.

On a side note, I think it's important to really enjoy life now. I mean, sure, work is going to suck sometimes (in fact, the Ares 1-X project is beating the brains out of a few guys at work) but I think most everyone has tough times at work. I really want to make sure I'm happy now. Can you imagine the crushing blow it would deal to my spirit if I wasn't happy? No, seriously. For the past 5 years I've been running a marathon-- go to school, study, take a test, get a good grade, get a degree, get a job, get money, buy a house, be happy. After all that grueling work if I'm not happy my head might explode. I will be happy. So there. Nyah.

On another side note, how come no one commented on the last entry? I thought it was pretty cool. Oh well.

Questions for Mary

2008-02-04T17:25:00.000-07:00

Mary, you no doubt felt that Jesus could heal Lazarus when he was sick. You no doubt felt reassured that all would be well; all you had to do was send for Jesus and He would come and make things right.

How did you feel when He didn't make it on time? How did you feel when Lazarus not only died, but was placed in a tomb? Were you angry at Jesus? Were you sad? Did you feel betrayed? How-- and I mean this-- how did you gather your feelings, put aside your anger and frustration and not blame Jesus? As far as I can tell, you didn't think anything more could be done. You had begun to cope with the fact that Lazarus was no more; Jesus either could not or chose not to heal him while there was still time.

What I really want to know, Mary, is how did you feel as you watched Lazarus slip away? How deep into your stomach did that icy cold web of despair sink? Were you able to keep believing and did that belief help you not be angry? Were you just like me, did you scream and shout and swear and wonder what you did to deserve it-- or what Lazarus did to deserve being passed on for a miracle? Jesus was feeding people, changing water into wine, making the blind see and bringing the lepers back into the city clean as any of us. Was taking special attention for your brother so much to ask? Is that why you didn't go out to greet Jesus when He finally showed up? Were you the one who got Martha to ask Him "If you would have come earlier, Lazarus would still be with us?"

I'm like you, Mary. I would have sit in that house with you, not knowing how to express my guilt, remorse, sorrow, frustration, and anger.

What I really want to know, Mary, is did Jesus ask any special faith of you? Were you upset you had to be forgiven of such a natural response? Were you under any kind of condemnation because you didn't believe? Lazarus was dead. There must've been room for your doubt and anger, right? Did He cut you any slack? Did He go easy on you? Was He upset that you blamed Him? Was He mad? Or did He break your indignation with His own sorrows for Lazarus' passing? Or did He induce you to repentance with His heart piercing compassion and understanding? Didn't He forgive you and perform the miracle you had asked for, and then some?

Do you think He'll do the same for me?

toilet paper crystals

2008-02-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

Once, I was 6. I know, it surprised me to write it as much as it surprised you to read it.

When I was at that tender age, I had a seriously nasty love affair with gemstones, rocks, and geology in general. If it was formed through pressure and mineral, I wanted to know about it. I took home National Geographic magazines from the library, Audobon Society field guides to rocks and gemstones, and I would actually go and gather rocks (gravel) and try to find out what was written about them given my limited thinking and resources.

My friend down the street kind of liked rocks too. He had hundreds of tiny crystals on his neato desk in his very own room. I had to share my room with two stinky brothers and I didn't have a desk. It goes without saying (even though I'm saying it now) that I was very envious of his only room, his desk, and of course, his collection of crystals. I asked him where he got them, because I had looked all over our neighborhood for beautiful rocks and I never saw anything. He told me he grew them. Growing crystals? Was that possible? I had no clue. So I asked how he grew them, eagerly anticipating my chance to try it out.

This is what he told me.

At night, before you go to bed, get a big wad of toilet paper, twist it up, dip it in water, and then let it dry out on the counter overnight. In the morning you'll have a beautiful crystal.

That night I went home and expended our roll of toilet paper. I twisted up over 30 clumps, setting them on the counter, the back of the toilet, and around the tub. Guess what happened to them when I got up?

I got into trouble for wasting toilet paper. Then I told why I did it, and my parents thought it was so funny they didn't punish me. I was, however, informed that I had to clean it up which was hard to bear-- not so much because of the mess I had made but because I had fully expected to collect 30 or so crystals that morning.

Upon questioning my friend as to why this experiment failed, he explained that it was the wrong brand of toilet paper. So I took some of his home and tried it. Bupkis. He got upset that I kept pestering him about how he did it and my parents put the kibosh on the toilet paper experiment and I soon got over it.

But man did I want those crystals.

Non, non, Monsieur le Président, c'était un bon discours

2008-01-16T09:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I reassured French President Nicolas Sarkozy that his closed doors private meeting with me and a lot of people I know was a good solid speech. He shook his head and said that a lot of people were sleeping. It's ok, I continued, a lot of people in my circle of friends don't understand French and that's why they didn't appear to be paying much attention. You're a good president, don't worry. He smiled, and then my dream turned all Law and Order on me.

Super Mac it is.

2008-01-15T15:10:00.000-07:00

76% John McCain
70% Bill Richardson
69% Mike Huckabee
66% Mitt Romney
64% Hillary Clinton
64% Barack Obama
62% John Edwards
61% Fred Thompson
57% Rudy Giuliani
56% Tom Tancredo
56% Chris Dodd
54% Joe Biden
43% Ron Paul
41% Mike Gravel
38% Dennis Kucinich

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

Huh.

2008-01-14T17:10:00.000-07:00

Having been offered (and accepted!) a position at ATK Launch Systems, I'm now officially a rocket scientist.

Specifically I'm an instrumentation design engineer, but I'll be telling everyone else the former. I can hear the jokes now...

At home...
Me: I can't figure this out, honey. Do I add the baking soda in the mix before or after I add the eggs?
Mrs. Sixline: Oh come on, it's not rocket science. Figure it out.

At the movies...
Me: So, was that Mr. Sanders with the bad gang or was he an undercover cop?
Brother in Law: He was an undercover cop! Come on, it's not rocket science!

and so forth ad infinitum and ad nauseum.

Oh well. Two good things:

1.) We get to stay where we are. I like our little valley. Very beautiful sunsets in the summertime. Very tranquil, yet enough shopping for Mrs. Sixline.

2.) The money came in right where we needed it. We'll be buying a home a few miles up the road and we are EXCITED.

Of course this means I should be working on my research and thesis rather than blogging.

Mon rêve Français

2008-01-08T10:06:00.000-07:00

When I listen to France Info for French radio news, I typically have a dream where I'm in France or speaking French. The French news radio is really a great way to keep up on it, and to learn new words. As a missionary, certain words just rarely make it into your lexicon. This is a great way to pick up on French geography, too, as news stories identify the setting of the story. It's also awesome to listen to them comment on our political process. No wonder they all know so much about what we're doing! I heard about Obama overtaking Hilary in Iowa before I saw it on our news. (In defense of our news, I don't typically watch or listen.)

Since it's news talk radio, the program resembles NPR a bit. The best part is when they get two guys to argue over a hot topic. Yesterday it was about a big car tax in Paris. Evidently the Mayor of Paris is green, and is trying to get rid of parking lots and car lanes in favor of bike lanes and buses. One guy was all for it, the other guy all against it. They were going at it, and I heard that SNOOTY tone of voice creep in with the jabs that still smart when I argued with people. They can be so condescending when they argue. Ecoutez-moi bien, je vais vous expliquer. Listen to me, I'll make it clear for you. Despite being so upset about how they argue, it is infinitely reassuring to know that that's just the way they do it. The guy who was against the car tax was being loud, talking over the moderator and the other guy, not listening, repeating himself with more and more intensity, and absolutely littering his comments with those snide remarks that set himself up as the authority and anyone who disagrees slaps logic in the face. In other words, he was your average Frenchman. I met so many of them and it was hard not to take it personally. Hearing them do it to each other just makes me roll my eyes.

Ah, the French. I love them anyway. :)

It's been a long time.

2008-01-05T14:31:00.000-07:00

The posts are getting fewer and farther(further?) between because I approach my date with doom; the thesis defense. It happens the 29th. I'm worried and concerned-- not with the process of getting up in front of everyone, but the having things to say part. I feel like the advisor committee knows more than I do about the project. I'm also worried about the last leg of research that is currently synthesizing while I write this. I'm also concerned...

Well that list goes on for awhile. I'm just worried I won't get the fantastic wonderfullest job of instrumentations engineer with ATK. I had the long awaited on-site interview with them last Thursday where they actually had me go around the cube farm seeing what everyone on the team did as part of the interview. I was very happy to see that; it's so hard to figure out what you'll be doing full time from an interview. They look like a great place to work. If the pay comes through where Mrs. Sixline and I can afford housing in our current market, then we'd like to stay put. There's a home that's being built just a few minutes up the road that's very spacious and open and in a great neighborhood. We want it...

But...

It depends on whether or not I finish and whether or not the offer comes in enough to cover the cost. If it comes in below, we get to explore other options. However, my heart is set on staying put and purchasing that home. We'll see.

I'm concerned...

job hunting (again)

2007-12-21T22:23:00.000-07:00

Tuesday I interviewed with Moog Aircraft in Salt Lake City for 2 hours. It was a good interview. They asked me questions off my resume, but nothing too technical. After that I drove 3.5 hours with Mrs. Sixline to Pocatello for an all day interview with AMI Semiconductor. That was one nasty interview, my friends. There were 5 different interviews with 5 different engineers on very technical bases. I can't even remember them all. Some op amp questions, some derivations of transfer functions, tons of clock signals and violation problems (setup, hold, etc...), state machines describing behavior, using Laplace transforms to analyze circuits, transistor configurations, CMOS configurations, etc...

All this was getting us down. The interview in Pocatello took longer than anticipated, so they put us up in a hotel for an extra night. The following morning we drove around looking at housing with a realtor. It was all right; Pocatello isn't as ugly a town as I originally thought. But it didn't feel right... I know it might have been just a foreign feeling in a new town, but I wasn't excited by AMI's work, nor by the prospect of becoming a Pocatello resident. Nothing against the town, but it wasn't my taste.

Same with Salt Lake. Just not feeling it.

The worst part was, the house we want to buy in our home town needed some choices. It's being built, and not quite finished. We've chosen paint color, carpet style and color, and tile. We've been conservative with our choices, knowing that there's a good chance we won't get the house. The reason why this stinks is because we're emotionally (and partly monetarily) invested in the home and if ATK (local company) doesn't call me back for a second interview, then we don't get the home we've been customizing. So as we were at the house waiting for the builder to show up so that we could choose countertop options, we were in rather a melancholy mood. We were really sad that ATK exhibited so much initial interest that's been noticeably lacking since the first interview contact.

Happily, that night I got an email from the guy who has been interviewing me saying that they want to bring me out the first thing after the new year. Awesome. Awesome awesome awesome. I really want to go build rockets. He asked if I've been interviewing elsewhere, likely aware of the mass amount of time that has elapsed since our last contact, to which I replied yes. Then he asked if I've entertained any offers, and I said that I would soon receive two. I fully expect them to come, but to be frank, I have no guarantee that they will. That information is on a 'need to know' basis... I told him that unless ATK's offer comes in well below what the other two would be, I'd take ATK's offer. That part is 100% honest. He reassured me that their offers are competitive. We'll see.

So, ray of sunshine. :)

rants

2007-12-07T13:16:00.000-07:00

Housing prices stink.

If I'm applying for your company, and I gave you my resume, and you used my resume as a basis to setup an in-depth on-site interview, do not ask me to fill out a ridiculous form where all the answers are on the resume that you already have. (In other words, bureaucracy stinks.)

Wussy winter weather stinks. This ain't Texas. Snow already!

Shoveling snow stinks.

stuck in a rut

2007-12-05T11:15:00.000-07:00

I've been stuck in a rut. I don't think anything substantive will happen on the job scene until the new year. My wife and I put earnest on a home we adore, but I doubt the job will come before the earnest period is up. We've been kind of getting down on ourselves, and then yesterday, as we were whining to each other, we snapped out of it. We got ourselves motivated and got right back into the swing of things. This morning had SUCH a different feel to it than other mornings. It's been good.

In the meantime, I've taken to transcribing my mission journals from paper to computer and adding in afterthoughts. It's fun and embarrassing at the same time. I'll have to post a few of the choicer ones with commentary.

Hooray for new posts!

happy thanksgiving or something

2007-11-26T10:17:00.000-07:00

yeah.

veteran's day

2007-11-12T11:49:00.000-07:00

It's impossible to write something that two words so easily sum up. Despite their repetition, I doubt they lose their meaning.

So, to all those serving, both past and present:

Thank you.

The stupidest thing I ever did.

2007-11-07T10:58:00.001-07:00

Once my friends and I mixed up some 'napalm' -- we dissolved styrofoam in gasoline. The resultant gooey mixture will burn for a long time. We then took it across a huge field behind his house where the local Catholic church had cleared out a ton of land. The result was a magnificently large pile of dead pine tree wood. For those of you aren't putting this together, I was playing with fire on top of a 50 foot pile of dead, dry, kindling wood.

It's a good thing we got bored with the napalm quickly enough.

Atheists probably shouldn't read this...

2007-11-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

I'm brainwashing myself.

I've come to the realization that "the world" (That's 'the Man' for all you conspiracy theorists out there) is out to get me. Suggestive lyrics are the mode d'emploi for music these days. Then there's the emotional nature to the music; it doesn't remind you of your divine nature as a son or daughter of God. It doesn't uplift, promote, engender charity, or teach anything.

Music gets into your head, and the constant barrage of imagery and soupçon influences the way you think. I want to control what influences me and how it influences me. Alma 13 (the best chapter in the Book of Mormon and I dare you to contradict me.) teaches that priesthood holders are supposed to live their lives in such a way that those who seek Christ will recognize Him by the examples of His priesthood holders. Let your light so shine, eh?

Two days into it and I already can notice a difference in how easy it is to control my thoughts towards holier things, and how I have a higher interest in spiritual knowledge. Soon I will be a fully brainwashed card carrying Mormon.

More job hunting crud

2007-11-03T07:37:00.001-07:00

ATK (Thiokol) interviewed me last week. They build rockets. I was invited to tour the facility, and the engineer who interviewed me took me and another grad student from a neighboring school on a separate tour to see the places where engineers actually work. We met hiring managers and talked with some of the guy's colleagues. Of the tour group of students, we were the only ones who were given that special treatment so I felt, well, special. They do rockets. I'll finally be able to say "Yes, Ma'am, I am a rocket scientist."

Then yesterday I had three interviews. Moog, pronounce 'mowg,' does airplane systems; integration, control, and embedded. Now this was an interview where I felt like I nailed it. I rarely come out of interviews feeling like I did well. Less often do I hear things like "Wow, this is a really impressive resume. I think you'd be an excellent fit with us. I'm will definitely recommend your resume be reviewed by the hiring managers. I hope you'll be able to come out for a second interview."

AMI Semiconductor was kinda the same way. They even gave me two technical questions. The first of which was to design a block diagram of an FIR filter (which I did correctly.) The second of which was to explain what happens in a lossless system, where two capacitors are hooked up in parallel and an open switch is between them. Capacitor A is 1 microfarad, 2 volts. Capacitor B is 2 microfarad, 6 volts. When the switch is thrown, what happens? Got that one too. They seemed pretty impressed, and said "The next step, now that you've demonstrated some basic knowledge, is to bring you out to AMI for the next set of interviews."

The last one was for NAVAIR, which is basically the Navy, and it was short and chock full of the same BS questions that never lead anywhere and don't allow a candidate or an interviewer to give or get the full scope of what someone can offer.

I feel really excited. It felt good to be wanted.

Jerks.

2007-10-27T08:10:00.000-07:00

Job hunting updates: Interview with ATK. Good job prospect, way to early to tell. One of those "Tell me about a time when you did something that would impress HR." kinda ordeals. I did well; I felt like I represented myself with confidence and such... But those questions are so unbelievably cursory and plain retarded that I don't have much reassurance that I'm heads and shoulders above or below the rest simply because such interviews can't provide that kind of information. Anyway. I was encouraged by the fact that they don't have heavy technical interviews when they do the on-site rounds. Technical interviews scare the bejeebers outta me. And... France called again... Too soon to tell what's going so I'll keep everyone updated when something concrete comes along. I hate getting back on this roller coaster.

Jerks: Hey, if I'm talking about baseball and how much I like it, and you're not involved, and you walk up and say "How can you like such a boring sport?" odds are I'm going to kick you directly in the babymakers-- girl or boy. Ovaries for girls, and giblets for boys. Shut up. I'm not talking to you. ~KICK~ I like baseball. If you don't keep your big mouth shut. I don't care about your opinion. Nyah. :P

rant

2007-10-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

I had a big rant.

I deleted it.

No one likes a whiner.

Boeing

2007-10-16T07:49:00.000-07:00

Good interview for me. Lousy interview for the girl interviewing me. She was extremely nervous. I think she was more nervous than I was. She was an engineer, though, which made things nice.

True to form, I have to find a few reasons to shoot this down before it takes off. (Takes off. Boeing. Get it?) GPA might be a little low. The position is for a signal processing buff, and I did not pursue that portion of EE. She even said "We're looking for more EE background types." I guess she didn't see the big "Master's Degree in Electrical Engineering" at the top of my resumé. She does have a point, though. I'm more involved with embedded systems than anything else. Whatever.

I'm not too sure I want to work in Southern California anyway. The position's in El Segundo, which means extremely expensive life and disgustingly long commutes either via traffic or distance. Let's hope someone from somewhere else calls me.

look up in the sky

2007-10-12T13:30:00.001-07:00

This time it is a plane.

Boeing wants to interview me here on campus Tuesday morning at 8 AM.

I might have to switch times given that I have class at that time, but I like being the first person there and I highly doubt I'd get much out of class squirming in my seat about an interview any way.

The career services website says that the job is for El Segundo, CA. I'd like to live there but not at the current price.

news and notes

2007-10-09T07:24:00.001-07:00

It's hard to say goodbye to a dream. Dreams are so pervasive in your mind that they 'help' your perception of reality to interpret certain events as supportive of obtaining your dream. There's still room for hope as far as going to France, but Mrs. Sixline and I (me more than her) need to realize that in all likelihood it just won't happen for now.

So we got a dog. He's a miniature black poodle. He's a purebred, but he has a bum hip so we got him for free. We named him Turk. He's a good little puppy; barely 4 weeks old. We've started the potty training, and while he's only left two presents for us I think we're moving along with success. He sleeps in a kennel which helps him learn to hold it. I'm glad we got him.

So now where does the job search take me? I applied for a post yesterday-- not making this is up-- under the title of 'Explosives Engineer.' The position is for Albuquerque, New Mexico at Kirtland AFB. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for that. Outside of that position, I'm not really looking. I don't know, it's just not a pressing matter on my mind. I'm more concerned with actually getting the degree that will be the primary requirement for the job. "So why are you blogging?" I know, I know...

Bad vibes

2007-09-27T13:06:00.000-07:00

Well, this morning came and went without any news from France. When we spoke last, this past Friday, I was informed that I would know by the 'middle of the week,' referring to this week. I mentioned Wednesday, and the gentleman agreed that Wednesday was a good day to let me know. As I said in the last post, he's been extremely punctual with me on all other calling appointments and very quick to settle the matter.

His silence indicates to me that the response was not good. My attempts at securing a job in France have taught me that if no one replies to you, then they don't want you. Quite the opposite of the "no news is good news" sentiment we have here in America.

While the book isn't closed, it sure feels that way. I can't help but think that Mrs. Sixline and I need to begin looking for work locally. It's not what we were hoping for, but we can always save up and visit in the future.

I'm very saddened by this, a lot more than I thought I'd be. I keep half hoping that I'm just feeling this way to try and trick myself into 'expecting' a bad response so it won't hurt so bad, while secretly thinking everything will be fine. I admit I have no other reason to think it's over with other than the lack of news. However, I can't deny the feeling.

Thanks again to everyone who's pulled for us. I'll keep posting on the job hunt until Mrs. Sixline and I know what we're doing and where we're going. In the meantime, if you know of anyone who wants a reasonably talented engineer in the areas of controls and embedded system design/development, please let me know.

Thanks.

October

2007-09-26T08:27:00.000-07:00

I do love October. I mentioned this last year, I believe. It's so pretty here in the Fall, and baseball is at its apex.

And no one's reached me yet from France. This latest guy is awesome and very punctual, so even though he said he'd contact me today, I don't think my chances are down the tubes.

However, if this final response is negative, then Mrs. Sixline and I close the door on going to France for a job for now. It's a bummer, but I think we'll be all right.

Thanks to everyone who's been pulling for us. This will all be over with soon, we hope.

nice.

2007-09-21T15:41:00.000-07:00

I just got getting grilled by my adviser over my journal paper (thesis is embryo.) It was grueling, and I came back to my desk, and picked up my headphones plugged into my computer. I hadn't stopped the playback, so the music was just going. I picked up the headphones feeling a little down thinking "How am I gonna get all this crud finished?!" And wanna know what song began playing?

Kansas' classic, "Carry on my Wayward Son."

Cosmic moment.

i lied.

2007-09-21T09:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not staying positive. I'm worried. I can't seem to find any real concrete leads when it comes to jobs, all I find are recruiting agencies. I was also not thinking I had to re-start the interviewing process anew with a second company; I thought that was the point of the recruiting agency.

I'm worried.

On to round 2.

2007-09-21T08:37:00.000-07:00

The recruiting agency finished up their pre-screening interviews with the conclusion of the personality test. I'm happy to say that I don't come across as a nut, to the contrary and chagrin of many of my acquaintances I'm sure.

After a discussion concerning the results of the test, and what they implied, the engineer at the recruiting agency will be presenting my file as well as several others to the company that's looking for FPGA engineers. If they like me, they will decide to interview me. So I'm really not anywhere closer to getting the job, I thought there was no more 'decision' based on candidacy; I thought the recruiting agency would present our profiles (the candidates) and there would be interviews for all who were presented as a good match by the recruiting agency. The impression that I got was that they (the company actually doing the hiring) could decide that you're not a good fit based on profile and reject you as a candidate.

But I'm staying optimistic for these reasons:

1.) The headquarters of this company are in Santa Clara, California. This means that I would go there for my in-depth technical interview and it would be in English rather than in French.

2.) While it's still a French company, the Americans working at the California location will understand and perceive my degree in a better light than the French.

3.) I'll stand out in the Americans' eyes because I'll be bilingual.

4.) The other two job opportunities that fizzed out on me were consulting agencies, which translates into lower salaries. This will be a job directly with the company itself, which translates into a higher salary. We're not talking about tons of cash, here, but whatever I can garner is good.

So I'm staying positive. Next Wednesday is when the engineer in France will get back from his trip to Paris (he actually works in Grenoble) and contact me with the new company's decision, and then let's hope the next step after that is a flight to Santa Clara.

oh please oh please oh please

2007-09-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning's interview went well. It was a full on tech interview, and 100% in French. There were some shaky spots where I wasn't really sure I was being clear, but the interviewer really helped me along by asking questions and I think we had ourselves a decent interview. There's a couple of things I wanted to talk about.

On my French resumé, I wrote on there that I lived in France for two years. I feel this is a subtle way of saying that I don't just speak French from a book I learned, but rather I have a working knowledge of the way French people speak French. I feel that while it's not flawless, my French is more authentic than someone who just learned it from a book; I've picked up mannerisms, the way to stress syllables, and the way to put your tone into what you say that communicates feeling just as much as words. My interviewer asked me why I spent two years in France. I'm acutely aware of how the French treat 'new' religion, and very often the Church is viewed in a bad light. However, I'm not going to back down and so I told him straightforward it was for a religious mission. He responded favorably, even asking further questions about what I did all day, what Church I belong to, and it came out that he actually lived down the street from a Chapel in his hometown. I hope that he can see my mission for the good that it was and not a crusade to brainwash his compatriots to believe in an American cult. I think he's level headed enough to do it.

So now, at the end of the interview, he says it's time for me to take a test. I was braced for a technical set of questions, but I guess he garnered what he needed from the Q&A session about my projects and work experience. This test is the dreaded personality test. 100 questions of 3 and 4 statements such as:

1.) I make friends easily
2.) I'm relatively unstable emotionally
3.) I work hard regardless of the obstacles
4.) I prefer to stay away from large groups

I had to select the statement that represented me the most and the statement that represented me the least. After about 40 of these things, all in French mind you, and being up for 14 hours yesterday, my head began to swim. Normally I'm not prone to do well on these sorts of tests; I've failed 3 of them before that I know of. "Fail." I put answers that led the company I wanted to work for to believe that I was not a good fit, despite the preamble declaring there are no correct or incorrect answers. So I'm nervous. I sent it off last night at 11:00 PM so that he'd have it in his inbox first thing in the morning. I haven't heard back, but he did say he was going out of town.

Say a prayer for me. I really want this job.

they called back

2007-09-17T09:29:00.000-07:00

Whee!

Amidst the flurry of snooty French 'We don't want you to work for us' e-mails, this company is really making me get excited. They're another recruiting company that sends you out to work as hired help. So I'll basically be telling people I'm a mercenary. It sounds cooler.

Rewind for a moment: Wednesday morning around 9:15 a lady from this headhunting company called me, asked some of the pre-screening questions, and basically said she's got a post that matches my profile. Sign me up, I say. Sure enough, Friday I got the two phone calls that I slept through from the same company, this time with a bit more information on what kind of a job it would be. I know that this was the reason for the missed calls because they contacted me this morning at 8:30. This is very exciting, they want engineers with a background in C++ (which I have) for the development of place and route actions on FPGA development toolkits and suites. That, dear friends, is right up my alley. I am way excited for this. They've been punctual, the job matches my profile almost 100%, it's in Paris, and I think I'll be able to get a decent salary out of them because when they asked I kept it open ended. I've got another interview of sorts tomorrow morning, so I need to get cracking on my work now.

Whee!

Sleeping.

2007-09-14T10:58:00.001-07:00

I decided to use my cell phone to set my alarm rather than mess around with my alarm clock. Like a genius I left the phone on vibrate so naturally I slept right through the alarm-- AND two phone calls from France!!! Crap! I have no idea who called me and no idea what they wanted. They called twice in 20 minutes and didn't leave a dang message even though I have my voice mail message in both French and English.

Oh well... Sleeping in sure felt nice.

Growing pains

2007-09-11T08:49:00.000-07:00

When I was 11, I had my first run in with deodorant. I was living in Texas at the time, and people in Texas (outside the hick population of course) are pretty big on personal hygiene. I think it stems from the proper Southern upbringing that was so prevalent 100 years ago. Think about it; it used to be a class based society almost.

Anyway. I didn't want to be a stinky guy, so I stole my older brother's stick of crusty white off-brand scented deodorant. He had mentioned he was going to throw it away, so I took it. It was an afternoon, I had just gone swimming and showered, and I was just about to go outside to play with friends. Now in my 11 year old head, I reasoned that people stink because they sweat and deodorant stops the stink where you sweat therefore it must be applied in the places you sweat.

I popped the cap off and twisted what was left of the pasty white crud. It broke off into two large pieces. Carefully pinching the larger of the two between my thumb and forefinger, I began to apply it to my sweaty areas... First my armpits... then my forehead... then the temples of my head... then my chest... then a little bit on my back, and finally... *ahem* down south. I carefully put the broken piece-- now noticeably smaller-- back into the receptacle where it had broken out of, replaced the cap, and stowed away the new treasure in my sock drawer. I proceeded to get dressed, go outside, and play.

Naturally a few hours later after playing outside in a hot Texan summer afternoon, the sweat began to dry and I had white streaks of crusty deodorant everywhere. At first people thought my face was peeling from sunburn. Luckily I realized what it was and washed it all off before anyone really noticed. I then asked my dad where you put deodorant, and quite nonchalantly asked if it went anywhere other than your armpits. Puzzled, I'm sure, but absent-minded at the impact of the question my dad responded that no-- it goes nowhere else.

And that was a lesson learned.

toxic waste dump

2007-09-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

I can't begin to express my frustration right now. I only hope that by pounding the virtual pillow I'll be able to move past it and focus on what I need to get done today.

I'm extremely frustrated because an HR director from a company in Paris who told me last I can recall that he wanted to give me a job. Trying to thin out my mail archives, I accidentally deleted a whole slew of emails that I had responded to which in turn eliminated the email thread they were a part of. So in one magnificent coup, I got rid of what the HR director actually said. For all I know, I'm remembering incorrectly.

Secondly, when I reminded this HR director that we haven't discussed anything via teleconferencing, a wish he had expressed before continuing with the hiring process, he said he was going to be in Holland until Monday (today.) And that on Monday (today) he'd email me. Today is here and there's no email. This is what I've come to expect from him, as he was the guy who told me after his interview with me that he liked me and wanted to move forward with me, then went on a three week vacation without telling me and then dropping me a line upon his return saying that we were going to do the next steps of the interviewing process. To his credit, we have indeed moved past that point, but to his detriment the man's a lousy communicator. For three weeks I thought that he changed his mind or filled the position somehow and neglected to inform me.

So I'm feeling frustrated because I don't know what's going on. He's not telling me. I have no idea what to expect from him when they do in fact offer me a position - if they do.

I dislike not knowing, I'm annoyed at how the French don't consider you as an engineer unless you come from a top school, I definitely don't like being left in the dark, and I don't want anyone to tell me "I know how you feel." I want everyone to say "That's the worst position a guy could be in. It must be so difficult."

And I forgot to charge my phone last night so I can't call Mrs. Sixline and cry on her shoulder.

This day is rotten from the get go.

No more waiting.

2007-09-09T08:44:00.000-07:00

Last I spoke with company A, they wanted to have me do a teleconferencing call. When I reminded them that we have not had that yet, they said that they'd contact me Monday. In the meantime, company B has contacted me and while they've been punctual, scheduling the next interview while on the phone with me, they require 5 total interviews before one is hired. 5 interviews could take a few weeks... Visa requirements say that a waiting period of approximately 3 months is common. If Mrs. Sixline and I want to time this right, and be gone when I graduate (Dec 17) then September 17 is the deadline. So while we still maintain hope for these two companies, if they don't come through then working in France will have to be put on the backburners for a bit (a few years bit).

So where does this put us? I'm not exactly sure. I'm somewhat partial to working for Michelin in America, in the hopes that they'll move me over to France after a few years. The Michelin plant I applied for in the states is in South Carolina. They haven't said a word to me as to whether or not they want me so this is just one big waiting game... At least for two more weeks. Then we know whether or not I throw in the towel and just take a local job.

report cards

2007-09-07T08:37:00.000-07:00

What is it about hearing flaws and faults that makes one so insecure? I don't accept for a moment that I'm the only one who has a hard time hearing someone parrot back to me the things I know I need to work on. I'm not talking about working on sewing skills, or some kind of external talent or hobby that you're attempting to develop, I'm talking about the things that make you you.

Begrudgingly, I admit that I am not always aware of how my words will be interpreted by a listening party. It's a murky subject and not very clear cut. There are some people who are so sensitive they can't listen to anything without finding fault, there are some people who don't let anything get to them, and then there's the by and large majority of folks out there who might take offense or feel sleight at what is said, but are usually good enough to chalk it up to the offending party's bad day, lack of awareness, or some other good natured excuse.

This happens, to me at least, quite often when I first meet people. I've been told by several people several times over that I don't make good first impressions. Even writing this to a pseudo audience of virtual readers I get a prickly feeling on the back of my neck. No one wants to feel like a lumbering fool with no savoir-faire. I, like most ego-inflated young men, want to feel suave and sophisticated. I've worked on my first impressions quite a bit since this was first brought to my attention.

And that's where I want to end this post-- with the statement that I'm very well aware of my shortcomings and that I work on them. It makes hearing my shortcomings all the harder to endure because I know I have them, I'm painfully aware of them, and I'm working on them. I need to not be so sensitive; I tend to run away with the criticism and apply it in places and in magnitudes that was never meant or conceived by those that point them out to me.

I suppose I ought to be thankful, though. If no one mentions them aloud, I can easily content myself to think I'm further ahead on the character perfection curve (which obviously isn't attainable) than I really am. Being thankful, though, is difficult in these circumstances because by and large the people who can point out your flaws are the people who know you best, and those who know you best tend to have a soft spot in your heart. I, like most ego-inflated young men, seek the approval of those I love and trust.

In the end, though, it's better to hear them from the people who love you than the people who don't.

American Export

2007-09-06T08:33:00.000-07:00

It seems our cultural contribution to the world largely consists of pre-packaged processed foods.

I'd like to think we export idealism, entrepreneurship, optimism, and hard work, but from what it looks like it's mainly McDonald's, Coke, obesity, and arrogance.

That sucks.

Attention world: There are good and bad things to American lifestyle and culture, just as there are with what you bring to our table. Also, be reminded that our cradle was built by the hands of many different nationalities. We have so much more to offer than 32 oz. of dissolved sugar in a red aluminum can.

Attention America: Let's try to export more of our good stuff than our bad, eh? Read a book. Learn the world map. (Is it true that a strong percentage of us don't even know where Iraq is?) Learn some history. Pick up a few words in another language. Yes, by assimilating the good that the world exports to us it'll help reciprocate goodwill and hopefully, the world will see as as more than a billboard for fast food.

It seems so pink and flowery, but I don't think we change the world, I think we help people change themselves.

Mrs. Sixline's motivation

2007-08-30T08:36:00.000-07:00

This is the last hurrah.

Final semester, and things are heating up.

I got a bit of a raise (yay!) and financially we'll be all right, so Mrs. Sixline doesn't have a job.

I've asked for her help in a lot of ways. You see, of all my quirks, one of the strongest ones is the inability to focus or relax when my abode is messy. I just can't do it. The trade off for my share of the housework is that I work crazy hours. I've been going into school later during the evenings and this week I'm doing about ten hour days. Mrs. Sixline has kept her end of the bargain beautifully; I've never seen the apartment in better shape. She's taken to watching "How Clean is Your House?" on BBC America (Thank you Kermit...) and now she's even scrubbing out little buildups of muck and grime that you don't normally do in your day to day rotations of cleaning.

I tip my hat to you, Mrs. Sixline. You're doing awesome.

a few things

2007-08-29T09:04:00.000-07:00

How old were you when you began listening to the music of your time? I remember in 4th grade trying to get down with MC Hammer, but I'll admit, most of what I heard came from other students when I was with them. I don't recall trying to be on the cutting edge of music for a long time. In fact, when I was about 10, I remember turning on the radio for the first time just to hear music. I twiddled and dialed until I got a station free and clear. It must have been a mix music of the day kind of station, because I don't recall there being any real genre to it-- no country, rap, jazz, classical, or anything else. It just seemed to be a pop station. I marveled that the station was nice enough to let people call in and ask for their favorite song to be played. I excitedly informed my friend of this discovery only to find out it was commonplace and old news.

For a brief period I liked rap; again, mainly because most of the kids in my school liked rap and it appeared to be the cool thing. I had heard the dire warnings of my parents and other parental figures ominously prophesying the doom and gloom of those who were sucked into heavy metal, so I didn't listen to it. I didn't really like rap, though... It was reflective of a culture that didn't belong to me and I couldn't identify with it. So what did I listen to?

Well, besides WBAP emissions of Ranger baseball (this was in the Dallas area) I took to listening to WRR classical music and 98.7 KLUV oldies. It was awesome. I listened to music and things that no one else listened to, which pleased me. I felt a sense of refinement beyond my age with the classical music and I felt whisked away to an era marked by a different set of difficulties; less crime but more racism. In my mind at the time I wasn't aware of America's atrocities regarding civil rights so oldies offered the privilege of partaking in memories of a simpler time that otherwise didn't belong to me. The fantasy of cool classic cars, no guns or drugs at school, and more family oriented people was enough to get anyone hooked. I was more familiar with those songs than I was of the early 90s fads and trends.

Of course, when I got to high school, things were different. I'll get into it another time.

I've finally figured out why I'm so obsessed with talking about a job in France. I realized Sunday night that I have no control over whether I go there. Sure, I can send CVs (that's what they call resumés) and apply, but in the end it's not up to me. Talking about it, obsessing about it would be more accurate, gives me the illusion of control. That feels good.

The beginning of the end

2007-08-28T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was asked "How was your first last day?" and indeed it was just that. Barring unforeseen tragedy, I should be done in December making this my last semester. Right now I'm under the impression that I'll not return, as I'm pursuing a hire degree I think that should cover me for the rest of my life, but who knows what'll happen?

On Friday while at Costco with the lovely Mrs. Sixline, Kermit, and two of her children, I received a phone call from none other than the technical director of Amundis. I ran outside gibbering in French to be patient until I got to a quieter spot, turning quite a few hands as I passed. I found a park bench on a secluded blue spruce lined median in some distant corner of the Costco parking lot. The spruces kept the sound to a minimum, so while I wasn't in a quiet room, at least I had some measure of privacy. The technical director, Serge, asked me about my work experience, my school experience, how to avoid deadlock, and a plethora of other embedded systems related subjects. We spoke for the better part of an hour. At the end he seemed quite positive and keen to continue the hiring process, and I felt pretty good as well. He called me because the previous day the HR director shot me an e-mail saying "Well I've just got back from vacation, and we're still interested in you. Someone will call you shortly." This was an abrupt change from the no news I was receiving from them throughout August. I was quite worked up that after the first interview I had received no news and then out of the blue they tell me they're still interested. It's been pretty quick since then. Friday was the aforementioned interview, and yesterday I awoke to another email from the HR director revealing that the interview was indeed positive and indicating that an offer was in the works. One more interview, this time a teleconferencing interview. So this is looking pretty good.

Amundis (www.amundis.fr) is a consulting company, which means that while I work for them, they find me third party work to complete. Not the most glorious thing, but as I understand it, they give me a base salary regardless of whether or not I'm working. Good enough for me. This isn't a career move. This is a life experience move. Unless something better comes along while we're there, we won't stay for more than about two years I think. That estimate is down somewhat from the five years I originally anticipated, but we'll see. Provided Amundis gives me enough of a base salary to live decently enough and cover my student loan payments, we'll be in Paris in January.

I'm happy.

Something more light-hearted...

2007-08-17T08:34:00.000-07:00

This should be fun.

These are 5 places I've been to in my life. Can you guess which is which? (They shouldn't be too hard.) I'll post the answers as a comment later on today.

I can't stop.

2007-08-17T07:27:00.000-07:00

I jokingly refer to the scar over the vein on the inside of my left arm as evidence of my former heroin addiction. I used to sell plasma, and quite a bit of it, when I was first out to purchase a home theater system. I've joked about substance abuse before, and while I struggle with my own habit forming sins and difficulties that are found in so many of my human brothers and sisters on this spinning blue marble, I've never really fought an addiction that I immersed myself in daily.

Until now.

I can't stop checking my email. I check it every after block of time spent away from the computer. I keep thinking I'll get get news from across the pond. Because of the time difference, most of my job applications come in after work hours in France. Hence, I assume that in the morning on my side HR directors and tech directors all over the Hexagon will have had an entire day to look over my resume, decide I'm awesome, and send me word. There's nothing more frustrating than applying for 4 or 5 jobs and hear NOTHING.

And yet, I go back to my email every day, after lunch, in the evening, and even sometimes early early in the morning when I wake up having to pee.

I hate this.

Questions that demand answering.

2007-08-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

Normally I don't respond to these, but at least Kermit asked interesting questions. I was tagged, and it'll be up to me to come up with 5 new questions at the end.

1) Define trailer trash.
Subjective term, and I'm open to suggestions.
Trailer trash is a racial demographic limited to white people who have extremely poor ways of hygiene, living quarter cleanliness, outlook on life, and cultural blending. Although the term originally stems from whiteys living in trailer parks with low income and low net worth, living with low income and low net worth in a trailer park and being white are not qualifying factors alone. It's not about money. It's about the way you carry yourself. Do you want to be clean, both morally and physically? Do you take an interest in the way the world works? Do you have aspirations to become better than what you are? Are you actively making and seeking those goals? If your answer to all of the above questions is 'no,' and you are white, then regardless of how much money you make or how non-existent a southern yokel accent is, you are trailer trash my pitiful friend.

2) What are your thoughts on WalMart?
WalMart is as guilty as any other company that seeks to systematically assimilate and crush the spirits of those working for them and is not guilty of being singled out. Shady business practices are a common thread under any economic system, especially one laden with corporate freedoms such as ours. Don't confuse the issue: Free enterprise isn't what's on trial. Unethical corporate behavior is. The rich are not guilty for being such; they are guilty for not distributing their wealth as per King Benjamin's command. After all, are we not all beggars?

WalMart is not evil, in and of itself. As for taking advantage of its workers, I'll say this: In America, between scholarships for minorities and government assistance for all, if you can't find a vocation, profession or niche in this land that pays you higher than WalMart's wages, you have to look in the mirror to find someone to blame.

3) If you could choose another era in which to be born and live, which one, and
why?
On a warp capable starship as a bridge officer in Starfleet.

Duh.

4) Tell me about a meal from your childhood, oft served in your home, that you just despised.
Not a meal, but a part of it.

My mother, bless her heart, over steams/cooks vegetables. They come out rubbery and tasteless. In the case of peas, I was especially averse to eating them but we were so unbelievably poor it was a common thread in our meals for years. I would use my allergy problem to parade an excess of napkins to my plate and while pretending to use them to wipe my nose, I'd put more and more peas in there so I only had to eat a few bites. I was especially adept to take a bite when being watched, only to add a few more peas into the napkin, then finish the meal, get up, and throw everything away.

I never got caught. Not by siblings, not by parents.

5) What’s your pipe dream, the one that’s way out there, that would take magic, miracle or untold wealth to bring to pass?
Own a small island in a chain of larger ones somewhere in the south Pacific. I wouldn't be too far from an island with a strong economic backbone and I would be far enough you'd have to make it a point to get to my island. I'd build an exceptionally environmentally friendly house that used a minimal amount of electricity (or none at all if it could be helped) and I'd stay there whenever I want.

My questions/items:
Sports: good or bad for a child's psyche?
How does one distinguish between revelation and thought?
To what extent does racism exist in America today?
How thick is your skin (figuratively speaking of course)?
What piece of music moves you the most?

My people: Bryan, Chance, Peter, Shaun, and Ben. (Those are the only 5 who read this stupid thing it seems... ;))

That's right, I'm jealous. And?

2007-08-14T21:23:00.000-07:00

The reason I'm feeling jealous is two fold.

1.) French engineering firms (skip this if you're bored by my relentless barrage of French job hunting) seem to want their candidates to be extremely skilled. American companies ask for the degree and then decide you're bright enough to be brought on and learn your way forward given a good foundation and background. I feel under-qualified for many of these jobs. It makes me jealous of those who are qualified for these jobs.

2.) There's a couple of extremely funny kids out there. I say kids because I'm indeed younger than they and yet they are on TV and film raking in serious money while I slave away trying to implement a software Molecular Dynamics simulator that more adequately models time cycles in order to correctly monitor load balancing. It's not fair. I think I'm funny. Why aren't I getting paid big bucks?

A bit much

2007-08-14T07:16:00.001-07:00

Lately I've been either gossiping about family or blabbing (read: whining) about France. I can't do that anymore. I think I'm boring my friends, though they have the grace not to say so. I'll find some other outlet or just plain ~gasp~ deal with it.

At any rate, I did have my HR interview with Alten. The lady was nice, but spoke extremely quick; a malady most French women suffer from. I had to ask her to repeat herself, but I guess that sounds better than answering a question she didn't ask. The questions were your normal HR questions, but it only took like 10 minutes. I'm wondering why she didn't just email them to me. I wonder if she wanted to hear my French. Oh well. You've got to chase your dreams otherwise you might end up getting your nightmares.

I love golf.

2007-08-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

Normally when Mrs. Sixline and I visit the rest of the family down Salt Lake City way, I take a few hours and go golfing with my brother in law. As he is preparing to get married and move to Las Vegas, he and his soon-to-be better half journeyed there to look for houses and visit the UNLV campus. (He'll be doing his MBA. Smart kid.)

As per his absence, I went golfing alone. I went resolutely, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I also have mismatched clubs I purchased from the local second hand thrift store at a whopping $1.50 per club. Normally when I go I go with said brother in law who is more experienced than me and understands the subtle nuances that makes one blend in with the golfing crowd. I was painfully aware of my own existence going alone without him.

But, I wanted to go. So I show up at a course I had not yet before visited and nonchalantly asked how much a 'bucket' was. In golfing terms, this is the cool way to request time and golf balls at the driving range. I paid for my services and was given a token-- a small dime sized metal disk with 4 teeth on it-- to use on a machine that dispenses golf balls at a rate of 10 per second. A bucket consists of about 50 balls.

I proceeded outside with my token, picked up my clubs that I had left outside, (See? I was aware of one rule: Don't take your clubs inside the store with you. Bad form.), and proceeded toward the driving range. While still wearing the clubs around the back, I approached the machine, put the coin in, and waited for a split second until I heard the signature loud rattle and hum of the machine that told you it was about to let 50 golf balls fly out. It was in this moment that I had an epiphany as clear as any revelation or supremely good idea I've ever received: I forgot to put the bucket in place to catch the balls.

And off they went... 50 golf balls being shot out of the machine like bullets. I shouted a very loud expletive starting with the letter 'S,' grabbed a bucket and tried to catch the rest of them. I only got about 10. There were golf balls strewn about in a radius of about 10 feet. The loud swear word in the middle of heavily Mormon populated Bountiful area caught more than just one pair of ears and several sets of eyes. Groaning, I moped about picking up all my balls and putting them in the bucket. At least by the time I got done collecting my effects everyone had lost interest and had gone back to their swing.

Worst golf moment ever.

A little explanation.

2007-08-08T22:25:00.000-07:00

Earlier I wrote that people are wrong. Indeed they are, although I didn't really explain what exactly I meant by it.

You see, people are wrong not because they're imbeciles, (I'm looking at you, Connecticut), but because they do not take the time to listen to you or really get at what you have to say. This is especially true in public scenes. Although this phenomenon is blindingly true with politics, but most arguments on various subjects follow the same pattern.

Seriously. How many of you come away from argument and debate (Greek argument, not sibling argument about who called 'shotgun' first) feeling that the other party truly listened to you and came away with a little bit more respect for your opinion-- regardless of whether or not they agreed? On top of that, do you make sure you form your opinion only after being informed from reliable sources and steady thinking? I usually don't, but I try to.

When it comes to politics (easiest example) things just plain get too emotional and polemical, and that's why so many arguments take the shape they do. People aren't listening to what you say, they're feeling what you say. If they don't take the time to listen to what you say they'll likely get the wrong feeling and react in kind. Likewise for opinions formed based on everyday events. You hear what happened, you look at it through a lens that has been focused and shaped through your perspective and generally react from your gut. I guess my anthropology professor was right. Most of us are just plain egocentric. The worst part is that we persist in being so when evidence to the contrary is directed at us. "You're just a liberal-- you hate guns." Ah. So cut and dry, so compartmentalizable. So easy to dismiss, so easy... so easy. So sad.

Despite the raging infection rate of this epidemic, the cure is simple. Other than the ego, the pain index is quite low as well.

Just slow down, realize you don't have the facts, and get them from informed sources. Realize that other people will disagree with you and a fair majority of those won't think much of you despite not listening to a word you say.

At the end of the day, just remember this simple maxim: People are wrong.

Oh, and while you're at it, remember this one: Never argue with a fool. Onlookers can't tell the difference.

Barry, this post's for you.

2007-08-08T11:02:00.000-07:00

756*

People are wrong.

2007-08-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

The politicking scene of attaching loony negative connotations to subjective terms is just not my cup of tea.

On a message board I find this maxim to be particularly true. Am I the only one who can see past someone's political leanings?

Probably. As you may well know, people are wrong.

random things

2007-08-02T10:10:00.000-07:00

1.) The company in Paris still hasn't contacted me. Now it's August, the French month long holiday. I wonder how this'll go down.

2.) Yesterday I felt really good about this. Mrs. Sixline is getting more and more excited at the prospect of going there, so we're both really hoping and praying that it happens. I even dreamt last night we ended up in Paris.

3.) I really despise it when people use the adjective 'sexy' to describe anything other than the opposite sex. iPhones are do not have sex appeal. They just don't. Any fool can see this.

4.) Half the mountainside in my hometown burned in a blaze yesterday. Two separate fires. My guess is lightning. It was bad. Yet again, the rest of my state seems to forget that people live up here because I haven't seen anything on the local news websites.

oscillation

2007-08-01T09:31:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday I received an email from the company in France I'm working with that seemed rather promising. I was told by the HR director that he wanted me to figure out as much as I can about the legalities of obtaining a French work visa while he toiled away on his end toward the same goal. In the meantime, he said, the technical director would contact me for a technical interview.

I've heard nothing yet.

I know it's just a few days, but I'm still getting just as let down as I am exuberant. I hope something is figured out soon or I'll go nuts.

aucun objet

2007-07-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

When I was little, my mother made it a point to put her immensely talented fingers to work for our benefit. Each of my siblings and I were the recipient of a quilt tailored to our personalities. Each quilt had squares that reflected the untapped talent of our child selves. Mine had navy blue squares checkered with big ABCs and 123s. My mother somehow acutely guessed I’d be some kind of nerd—as if the Construx robot army I whipped up for her to complete her household chores wasn’t a tip off in and of itself.

These blankets were our bread and butter as children. There were 5 of us, and on rainy days and Sunday afternoons our pastime was to build tents using all the chairs in the house, the extra comforters, and of course, our blankets. We must’ve looked like tribal chiefs summoned for a council as we waved our colors. When it was naptime in the afternoons during the summer, I liked to curl up with my blanket. If I couldn’t find it, I couldn’t sleep. Other blankets composed of entirely the same material were somehow too rough and uninviting. By all reports, I’ve grown out of it. However, after Mrs. Sixline and I launder our sheets and blankets, when I lay down to sleep I can still see and touch that old blanket of mine.

Even though I’m too old for security blankets, there are still some things that I can cling to and sleep soundly through the scariest of rainstorms. A child’s psyche is so illogical—as if thick layers of cotton, wool, and fleece can stop the fiercest creature.

And yet, their power is real. They’re something familiar, something tangible, something warm.

Tonight Mrs. Sixline and I had to fold up a security blanket and store it for another time. It’s gone, but not for good. It’s just put away for now.

We love you, Fozzie, Kermit, Scooter, Animal, and Gonzo. You brought us comfort and made us safe. We hope you know just how much warmth you are responsible for in our lives.

The French Connection

2007-07-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

I had my interview this morning with the director of HR.

It went extremely well.

I will be contacted in the next few days by the technical director so I can be heavily quizzed on the subject of C, C++, Linux, and Embedded Systems.

Whee!

fausta fortuna adiuvat

2007-07-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

If I had a motto, it would be "Fortune favors the bold."

Teddy Roosevelt summed it up nicely:

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.

It's now Wednesday afternoon. Monday morning I received an email from a French company stating their intentions to interview me. It hasn't happened yet, despite my phone calls to the man who sent me the email in the first place. In the meantime, 4 companies have told me that they do not have any desire to interview me.

This is leaving me with some very mixed feelings. I wonder if my desire to go to France is indeed divinely inspired. I believe that if it is divinely inspired, then the Lord will help us (yes, I say us. Mrs. Sixline is on board with this 100%.) move over there. I also believe that if it is inspired, then I have no reason to be nervous and fear that nothing will materialize. If it's not, then I have every reason to fear. Of course, not being divinely inspired to move to France doesn't necessarily mean that I'm divinely forbidden from going.

At any rate, I'm feeling a bit sad that I haven't had my interview yet. It feels like I'm not that high of a priority to them, which means they're probably not too keen on having me. I just want a straight answer.

However, I'm proud of myself in a sense. I'm trying for something really great. I'm not normally one to take large risk-- especially financial ones. However, this is one of those things where I'm willing to risk a lot emotionally for the reward.

bullies and cowards

2007-07-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

Percy. Kevin. Dennis. Erik. Smiddy. Justin.

I'm sure you've had your bullies. Some I stood up to. Some I didn't. Sometimes I was afraid, and sometimes I just didn't think it was worth my time.

This is a particularly sensitive topic with me. I'm a pretty prideful guy. I also don't take too well to being picked on. When was a kid at the playground in the sandbox, if you took my truck and didn't give it back I normally opted to push your face in the sand, take the truck back, and give you the evil eye the rest of the day. When life got bigger, faster, and a little more criminal, I didn't know if some of these bullies were involved in drugs or weapons or both.

Not that I think I was the target of gang activity. Well, Kevin I think was in a gang. Being scared is a hard thing to live with. Justin was a big redneck with an ego to match. He liked to intimidate the other kids in the classroom, and I didn't take to that too well. One day our teacher aske d me to bring a spray bottle of Windex up to her that was resting on the overhead next to me in the back of the room. I obeyed, and Justin said something smart to me as I walked by, so I turned around and sprayed him with the Windex. He took this as the most mortal of insults, and threatened to 'kick my ass.' (It's ok, I can swear on my blog when I'm quoting people.) He wouldn't stop saying it. He sat directly in front of me, and kept turning around and whispering it every twenty seconds. He was a good 6 inches taller than me and had about 50 lbs on me. I was so nervous and scared I didn't know what to do.

I went to a pretty rough high school in East Texas, and so I had no idea how far this fight could go. I knew the odds of it being him against me were fairly small; we had our fair share of gangbangers, drug dealers, petty thieves and other young criminals roaming the halls frequently. Rarely did two kids have a go at it and settle their differences. Quite often I got my friends and you got your friends and we all went for it. I didn't have any friends. Texan male bravado, the key ingredient to having a posse, was lost on me.

I suppose the Texan male bravado is present in more than just one form, as Justin walked right out the door and out of the hallways right as the bell rang. I doubt he wanted to do anything more than scare me. That didn't end my fears, though.

Because of a school schedule that alternated classes by day, I didn't see him again for two days. I remember crying to my parents that I just wanted them to find out where he lived so I could have them drive me over and we could settle our differences where I knew it would be at least him against me. I didn't want to wait in fear. I wanted to go and find him where he was then and there and finish it.

I hate living in fear. I hate being afraid. It is a great teacher, though. The lessons are complex, and thinking back to the experiences that teach them can be just as intense as living them through the first time.

I can't enumerate all the times I've been afraid or been bullied. Following suit, I can't say I can list all the things I've learned from each experience. One thing I am proud of, I can say that I am not a coward. It's so clear now that they were the cowards, not me.

So instead of hoping they're all drunk, dead, or in jail somewhere, I think I can learn to pity them. Not now, of course. That instinctual desire of vindictive vengeance is a little too strong. I don't wish them harm, but I do wish them to feel how I suffered-- not to pay for their crimes, but to understand them and feel compassion on me. At the end of it all, though, I'm glad I chose to handle it the way I did.

Les premières étapes

2007-07-16T10:38:00.001-07:00

This morning my eyes about popped out of my head when Amundis (www.amundis.fr) contacted me via their head of HR. I was asked if we could select a time to conduct a preliminary interview. Of course, I said. Now I get to wait until either the phone rings or until I receive a new email stating a more planned out date and time when we can speak. It'll have to be late afternoon for them, early morning for me. Who knows-- maybe my phone will ring tomorrow morning at 2 AM. I'm really excited.

The best part is, I haven't even applied for this job. My Monster.fr account had an English resume for the longest time, and I had very little activity on it. Monster.fr lets you track how many people view your resume each day. The English version had 12 views in 2.5 weeks. The French version has had 20 in 1 week. I'd say that's progress. I suppose since my resume is available to be seen by recruiters that Amundis found me.

So now the fire's on high. I must finish my thesis work by December. There can be no delay. Late nights and hard work are going to be my two best friends.

All the same... I'm excited.

The Inevitable Harry Potter Post

2007-07-13T09:02:00.001-07:00

Harry Potter 5 was bad. Real bad. Not disgusting, but bad. Why was it bad? I'll tell you.

1.) Dumbledore doesn't have the presence that a wizard of his caliber should have. I can't tell if that's his fault or the fault of the director. He just didn't have the smile behind his eyes that said he knew he'd be back in control of Hogwarts. He also didn't have the imposing presence on Voldemort at the end in the Ministry of Magic. The other Death Eaters were supposed to freak out when he got there and run away. Voldemort was supposed to lose his cool and yell things out in his anger-- very telling things concerning horcruxes.

2.) Harry is too much a teenager to understand that Voldemort can't love. That part was just lame.

3.) Kreacher had too small a role.

And that's the top 3. Most everything else is somewhat forgivable, but still, in the framework of these top 3, it makes the film really bad.

through other peoples' eyes

2007-07-09T13:01:00.000-07:00

My little brother got married over the weekend. I have to admit, in the course of 18 months the kid moved out of mom's basement, got a job that didn't involve spatulas in some way, moved into his own apartment-- not with any loser friends, found a girl, got her a ring, and married her.

My little brother, the kid who has a difficult time separating himself from his environment, finally did the smart thing and changed his environment. I know that we are all, more or less, a product of our surroundings. I think that his choice to remove himself from a bad circle of friends was the most mature thing he's ever done. Well, until he got married of course.

I'm proud of him.

we regret to inform you...

2007-07-05T10:29:00.000-07:00

... that we don't want to give you a job.

~depressed sigh~

About two weeks ago, I began applying for jobs in France. Most French companies have a policy of letting you know within two weeks whether or not they're interested. If they don't contact you within said 2 weeks (sometimes 3) then they ask that you please take that as a piss on your candidacy. Wait, did I say piss? I meant pass. Well, the two are interchangeable, I s'pose. Since it was two weeks ago that I began applying, every day that goes by without a response is practically a pass on me. It's bringing me down. I really want to go and live in France for awhile.

I'm too emotionally invested. Odds are, life will go on and I'll be very happy regardless of whether or not I live and work as an ex-pat. Trouble is, I'm not convinced of that. At least not deep down.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, eh?

231

2007-07-04T19:53:00.003-07:00

I celebrated today by immensely enjoying the Indians/Tigers game.

Happy 231st, America.

huh. how 'bout that.

2007-06-25T12:16:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I found myself not answering most questions because I felt they were too polemical. I guess I'm just a fence sitter. The advice tells me I should stop voting for both. Maybe I'll vote for Bloomberg or Nader if they run.

You Are 28% Democrat

You're a bit Democrat, and probably more liberal than you realize.
If you're still voting Republican, maybe it's time that you stop.

How Democrat Are You?

You Are 36% Republican

You're a bit Republican, and probably more conservative than you realize.
If you're still voting Democrat, maybe it's time that you stop.

How Republican Are You?

Paris, anyone?

2007-06-20T13:57:00.000-07:00

I've started applying for jobs in France. The majority of them are in the Ile-de-France area-- better known as Paris. Paris is a rather expensive city to live in, as I've heard. But hey-- this is only just dropping the line in the water to see what bites. To be completely honest, I doubt this has much more than a 25% chance of happening.

So what am I doing? I'm throwing a ticker-tape parade for all engineering companies on Monster France where the ticker-tape is my resumé. As all of you know, Monster is a great way to look for a job, regardless of background and experience. Since I have no real target place to move to, anything with key words that so much as sound like they match my description get a hot and ready resumé. Mrs. Sixline and I are very excited at the prospect of living there. I doubt it'd be permanent, but maybe a few years. What a wild ride, eh?

britney spears vs. ella fitzgerald

2007-06-18T10:00:00.000-07:00

I had an argument with the class today in History of Jazz. (On a side note, why is it that these arguments always end up me vs. the class? Are my opinions that different from everyone else?)

We started out by talking about Pat Boone. He was a '50s star that would take more 'worldly' songs (like how Elvis was seen as so risqué) and then cover them in a slower, less glamorous tone. He made a lot of money doing this and the Jazz professor said that he was, in a word, 'crappy.'

I began to argue. You can't say that music is 'crappy.' You can't. You can hate it until you're blue in the face, but you can't say it's 'crappy.' I don't care that you have PhD in musicology. 10000 flies feasting on fecal matter is the perfect analogy. To you, it's crap. To them, it's dinner. I don't care if it is fecal matter. I don't care if it's literally 'crappy.' If you are going to try and set up qualitative standards for music, and set them arranged in order of priority, you will fail. People like what they like, and everyone knows that. To say that something is definitely crappy doesn't communicate nearly the same idea as 'For these reasons I prefer Ella Fitzgerald over Britney Spears.'

Alas, I was not able to communicate my idea. Why oh WHY is having a loud voice and the innate ability to interrupt people a necessity for public argument? I'm grinding my teeth I'm so incensed right now.

Get over it.

i don't want to hear it.

2007-06-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

I can't stand getting advice. Even when I ask for it. How weird is that? I just want people to commiserate with me. No one does though. Strangely enough, no one likes to hear someone else complain. (Novel concept.) This leaves me feeling even more frustrated and upset than before.

So, what do I do about it? I don't know, but I definitely don't want you to tell me.

immigration reforms

2007-06-13T08:35:00.001-07:00

I'm torn on this.

On one hand, I read comments such as this:

Nineth Castillo, a 26-year-old waitress from Guatemala who joined the Atlanta march, said she has lived in the United States for 11 years “without a scrap of paper.”

Asked whether she was afraid to parade her undocumented status in front of a massive police presence, she laughed and said: “Why? They kick us out, we’re coming back tomorrow.”

(source)

On the other hand, I remember this:

19 For behold, are we not all abeggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind?

(Mosiah 4:19)

My ancestors were immigrants. America should let people into the country-- I don't think anyone is going to dispute that. But here's why I'm confused: for every thought I have on either side of the issue I have several counter thoughts. Examples:

It should be easy for immigrants from poor countries to come here and obtain some kind of permit where they can live as citizens; pay taxes and earn money. But then what about terrorism? Shouldn't we protect our borders and make sure we don't get attacked? What about voting rights, do we let them do that?

I also won't pretend that seeing marches of protest to the enforcement of laws pertaining to illegal immigrants doesn't incense me. And why do so many of you protesters insist on waving the flag of your nation of origin? I don't get it.

This is a complex issue with many deep emotions and racial tensions. I hope it gets sorted out and soon.

random mess

2007-06-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

-Don't feel like working. I mean, I do, but, I'm kind of afraid of it. What if I don't know how? I'm nearing the edge of the realm of things I know how to do and being pushed to think on the spot frightens me. Maybe instead of blogging I should get back to it. (Hey, the project's synthesizing. Back off.)

-Ratatouille, Harry Potter movie and book, Transformers, and a wide variety of other decent films should make this summer kinda fun. We've already barbecued like 6 times, we should be camping in south eastern Idaho, and if we hit a few minor league ball games this summer should be rad. Oh, wait. Good friends are leaving. Jerks. We don't need you anyway. (At least I don't have to help them load up the truck.)

-I'm thinking about moving my blog over to Wordpress. Most all of the readers I have are either friends I know out there in the real world, or they're just search engines that will end up finding my site anyway. I'm not sure why I want to move... I might even rename the blog. How d'ya like them apples?

-I like listening to French radio on the internet. The only downside is a wide variety of my dreams are now a little too Français. No, it's not that I'm dreaming in that language, it's just that my brain is firmly wired to associate France with mission. Last night I remember laughing at my companion because he was so new and I'm serving my second mission and I get to go home and see my wife. I was even street contacting. It's a bit of a throwback to former days. Thinking back on my mission... there's a whole can of worms I can open up on that, so suffice it to say the dreams make me very... very... *pauses* disquieted.