Musings directly from my muse

Hot Cross Bunnies!

Drop and give me 5!

You know what?   I'm tired.  Oh, so tired.

I thought maybe grad school would be as quick and easy as undergrad, but here I'm taking two classes at a time, so it seems like all I do is schoolwork.   Friends ask me, "Hey, Windhazel, what are you up to this weekend?"   My never-wavering reply?  "Oh, I have homework."  

I wish I was making this all up.  I wish that I was pretending to do homework EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEK, but really that's all I do.  Goodbye, Xbox...it's all overpriced textbooks from here on out.

I remember when I was younger and riding with my dad in the car.  I had the rare permission to play one of my tapes (we had cassettes back then), and I was playing a Bob Seger tape.  He listened politely for about 15 minutes, then he popped the CD from the tape deck and said, "You know what, Windhazel?   Bob Seger makes my ass tired."  He said it with this really pained look, like his ass was, truly, very tired from ol' Bob singing about difficult it was runnin' against the wind or how much he likes that old time rock n' roll.  In that moment, I think I felt the worst for my dad than I have in the 25 years since, because I never realized how badly Bobby S. could take it out of a man.

Anyway, graduate school.   Yeah, it makes your ass tired.   It's like farting against the wind...you really don't get any satisfaction, and it stinks overall.   There was a time when I could blog, but nowadays all I do is homework.   Instead of old time rock n' roll, it's all night moves where you spend hours turning the page.    We may have tonight, but, baby, I've got an assignment due tomorrow.

But, that's not the purpose of this post.   Instead, I was thinking of something not related to homework today.   That something was "what exactly did I learn from the military?"

So, friends, neighbors, and people who Googled her by mistake -- these are the top 5 life lessons I learned from being in the world's greatest navy as captured in quotes I heard throughout my career:

5.  "You're on my shitlist, but, then, you've been there before."   Back in the early 1990's, I was installing some equipment on a submarine, and then I was supposed to go out with the sub for a local operation (LOCALOP).   Not a big deal, since we this was only to test how the systems (including mine) would perform under normal conditions.   Well, I was loaded the night before or I forgot which day we were leaving or something, and then I missed the "ship's movement."  Although the sub would be back in a few days, I felt horrible letting my group down and I was more than a little scared that I might have committed some terrible crime that I might have been punished.  

As soon as I knew, I called my "Chief" and told him what was going on.   He said those words, "Windhazel, you're on the top of my shitlist, but, then, you've been there before.  Don't do that again."   I learned right then that great leaders forgave, but still kept their high standards.

4.  "When I said that, I was thinking about you."  I had a very, very hard time in boot camp.  Honestly, I'm not very good at obedience, and I was even worse when I was younger. 

I did well in boot camp until week #2.   Remember that this is an 8-week evolution, so I was only a quarter of the way through it.   Hmmmm...I should have seen the signs.

Anyway, on week 2, I fell asleep on my boot camp watch.  I was sick at the time, a point I explained to my watch leader, but it's really no excuse.   In week 2, I fell asleep and was sent back to week 1.   As you might imagine, my new company commander was overjoyed to have a fuckup in his company, and made my life a living hell.  Of course, I helped to make it as bad as possible.   What can I say -- it's a gift.

So, I made it through the remaining 7 weeks of boot camp with few incidents (see below), and I was eventually ready to graduate from that hell.   Being young and loving gossip, there was a rumor that if you didn't cut the mustard in the regular Navy, you were sent back to boot camp.  The day we were to graduate, my company commander talked to the entire company.  He said:

"Today, you are ready to graduate.   We worked you over pretty hard over the past 8 weeks ("9, I thought to myself"), but most of you are ready for whatever the Navy throws at you.  Some of you, however, will probably face boot camp or non-judicial punishment (punitive judgement by a judge -- usually your CO) within 9 months."

We went through our closing ceremonies.   When I came back to the barracks to collect my things, my company commander was there.   It was just me and this man that I hated with all my little guts in a beige-painted stone building with the afternoon light shining in the windows.   As I looked at him, I saw particles of dust floating in the warm sunbeams, and I thought, "Shit...I'll probably have to clean that."  He looked up at me (he was only about 5' 4"), and said, "When I talked about people coming back, I was thinking of you."   I made a pledge right then and there that I was going to show this fucking dwarf a thing or two and I WOULD NEVER BE BACK.   I would MAKE SOMETHING OF MYSELF, goddamnit!

Nine months later, I went to non-judicial punishment for drinking underage.   So, the dwarf was right.   What I learned was that others don't hold the keys to your future, but sometimes they can see you better than you can.

3.  "Did you just ask me 'why'?"   Back in boot camp, I was a bit of an inquisitive scamp.   People would yell at me, and I really didn't understand what I had done so badly to bring this tirade down on my poor, innocent head.

One day we were marching around in formation on a hot, miserable piece of asphalt with our world war I rifles doing some stupid exercise.   If you think I was bad at following the instructions of my company commander, you've never seen me with a rifle.  It's like Gomer Pyle and Homer SImpson had a child and that child was a bit retarded.  

This particular day, I had hit my groove though.   I only screwed up ever other step and I could mostly figure out what each command was and had 90% accuarcy in execution.  It was definitely a red banner day for Windhazel!

The afternoon was wearing a bit long, and I had just executed a maneuver where the stock of the rifle was supposed to be even with your toe.  I brought mine down with a smart SNAP!   Just then, I heard the dwarf say "WINDHAZEL!!!!!   THAT WAS HORRIBLE!    DROP AND GIVE ME 25!!!!"   I looked down and everything seemed to line up perfectly.   In my naivete, I asked, "Why, Sir?"   Moments later, my rifle was flying across the parade grounds, and I had a spitting midget in my face.   "WHY??!?!!! WHY!?!??!?!?!   DID YOU JUSTASK ME 'WHY?!'  When I TELL you to do something, SON, YOU DO IT!   YOU DON'T ASK WHY!!!!'

What I learned from this little experience is that you get a lot of pushups by not just going along every once in a while.   In other words, there is a time to speak, and there is a time to be quiet.   A wise man knows which is which.

 2.  "Submarines -- Oh, yeah...you should do that!"   When I was in the intial training after boot camp, I worked my little fanny off (except for that one non-judicial punishment I mentioned earlier).   I was at the top of my class and was trying to see where my career would lead me.

One of my instructors when I was in my final days of training was a former submariner.  I remember that his first name was Mike and his last name was some unpronounceable Italian name.   This man was full of energy, passion, and humor.   Fortunately, these are three things I valued.  

As we got ready to make our selections about where we wanted to go next, Mike told us that the first selection would probably go to those who were at the top of their class.   I was pretty much there, but I worked like the dickens to make sure I stayed there.    While I was making the very difficult decision as to where to go next, I asked Mike what he thought about his submarine experience.   "Submarines?  Oh, yeah...you should do that.   It was tough, but it was some of the best times of my life."   Then he added, "You've got to be at the top of the class, though.  There are very few positions for those in our rate to do that."   By the glint in his eye when he talked about it, I knew that was the place for an irreverent go-getter like myself.  

Every night until the results came out, I worried about whether I would make it.  I was at the top of my class by then, but was that going to be enough?   Would I get the job that would provide travel, excitement, and a chance to have a bit of fun?"  I still have the dent in my fingers from where I crossed them so hard.

Finally, we found out the results.   AND I MADE IT!!!!   HOORAYYY!!!

The next 4 years of my life supporting submarine intel were some of the best of my life to this day.   From Mike what's-his-face I learned several things:

a.  There's nothing like a job you love and have passion for

b.  Sometimes you need a mentor to point you in the right direction

c.  The best things in life require a bit of work

1.  "I have to say this, 'Is there anything I can say to make you stay?'"

After 10 years of the military, I was sick of it.   I had learned from some great people (and from some crappy people) how to succeed, and I had made something of myself in the Navy.   When I left at 9 years and 11 months, I had done everything I had set out to achieve.   I was an E-6 (Petty Officer First Class), and was ready to take the E-7 test.  

Unfortunately, there I was also going through my divorce at that time.   Of course, the military felt that they should probably interfere; after all, I was a sailor 24-7.   It didn't help that our commanding officer (CO) was a golfing buddy with my wife's lawyer.   The consequence was that every move I made was immediately brought to my attention at work, while every move she made was automatically justified in the CO's opinion.  

Eventually, I had enough.  I told my senior enlisted rep (Command Master Chief) that this was bullshit and I was out of here.   In the past few years, I had noticed that all of the really bright, self-starting people at my command were getting out -- the people I looked up to -- and I wondered what that said about me when all the presumably smart people left and I stayed.  The military getting involved in my divorce was the last straw.

So, I started telling people that I was done.  As I said before, I told my Command Master Chief.   He was somewhat disinterested.   I told my Chief, who was very disappointed.   I told the person who assigned us to new positions, who offered me a series of great positions (which I declined).   I finally made my way up to the CO of the base who I had my final exit interview with. 

He said, "So why are you leaving?"

I replied,  "I've had enough of this.  You aren't rewarded for work, you're rewarded based on politics.   If I may be frank, sir, I don't think initiative and thought is rewarded here.   One side of people's mouth say, 'Hey, think of better ways of doing this,' and the real truth leaks out of the other side and says, 'do what I say'" (remember the rifle incident).

The CO, obviously disinterested in this discussion judging by the way he was inspecting his nails, said, "Well, I have to say this..."  Then he leaned forward and gave me the most patronizing look I have ever seen before or since.   He fixed me in his stare and said with a sardonic expression, "Is there anything I can say to make you stay?"

I wanted to scream at his smug face, "Fuck no!   You did this!   You've driven me to the point where this isn't fun!   You and all of your little, petty underlings who care nothing about accomplishment, only about how they look to the next guy!   You've shown me that it's not what you know, but who you blow that makes the difference.   You got involved in my divorce.   You made that the defining point of my career, not the other successes I have at work.   You don't own my love nor my soul.   Screw all of you!"

Instead, I leaned back in the CO's plush leather couch and looked at the floor.   "No, sir.   There's nothing that can make me stay."

What can you learn from this?   Oh, lots!

a.   When dealing with men who have no honor, there's no way to win

b.  People often ask questions, but they really don't care what the answers are unless they suppor their own positions/egos

c.  Your own life is your most precious possession.  If someone tries to tie your work success to your personal life, there are a lot of ways to lose, but only a few ways to win.  I will never put my after-hours life in the position of my employer.

d.  I think it's the smart person who says, "You know what?   I'm done."   After I left the military, my benefits jumped, my pay increased by a third, and I was given the opportunity to learn in new ways.   I had tried for several years to get involved in the Navy's Total Quality Leadership program, but there was always a reason I couldn't go to the training.   Now I'm a quality engineer by job and by certification.   I applied my passion (#2), I learned that there were times to push the boundaries and times to shut up (#3).   I learned that you will make mistakes and you should never let someone's opinion stop you (#4), but the best leaders will give you another chance (#5).  It's up to you to make the most of it.

Finally, I think I learned that pompus COs are small, little men who rely on their position to make them big.  It's a big man than grows into a position of leadership.

Back to grad school.   I wonder why I'm doing this.   I guess part of it is that all the difficulty, all the studying and work, ultimately get me ready for a job to lead others.   This opens doors to apply these 5 lessons and not be a part of the problem, but to be part of the solution.  

5 lessons.   A year left of classes.  I hope I'm ready for the challenges that these present me.

But, just for you, I'll drop and give you a quick 20.   I feel like I owe you that much.

Posted by: Windhazel at 23:03 | link | comments (2) |

A Windhazel original...

Q:  How can you tell if a statistician's cat is mean?

A:  It mu's all the time. 

Hey, I don't hear anyone else telling statistical jokes!  

Posted by: Windhazel at 10:28 | link | comments (2) |
pointless

A quick distraction...

You know, for some time I have seriously considered moving away from Motime.   Honestly, the blogging interface is mediocre at best.   For example, I have never found the Word transfer functionality to work 100% and the lack of spell checker is absolutely unconscionable.  

Most recently, I used the Motime search engine to try to find keywords in my blog, but somehow it operated in the range that I call downright horrible.   Finally, in desparation, I resorted to Google, which had no problem locating the reference I was looking for.   Thank you, Google.  Boo to you, Motime interface!

Anyway, I wanted to make a reference to the Certified Quality Engineer (CQE) exam that I know I have remarked about at least once in my blog.  I have been studying for the exam off and on for roughly 8 months.   This on top of my graduate studies and trying to have a semblance of a life.  

Well, I took the exam on June 7.   I didn't want to mention it earlier, because I didn't want to create an expectation that I might remark on the results when they came in.   Can you imagine what a jackass I would feel like if I made a big deal about it and people kept asking me how it went, when I knew I didn't pass it?   "Oh, it was a tough test.   I guess there's always next time."   Jackass, indeed.  As I told the few people who knew I had taken the exam, "If you never hear me mention it again, you'll know how it went."   I just avoided the whole situation with my Motime friends and kept my mouth shut.

That is, until today.   I found out the results yesterday.   I passed.   YAY!!!!!!!!

This is the second hardest exam that ASQ offers, and I was freaking out a bit about it.   It was a 5-hour test, open-book, but don't let the open-book status fool you.  You had to have a pretty good idea what was going on to even know where to look.   The pass rate I've heard reported is between 50% - 60%.  A lot of the test was statistics, and you had to understand not just the formulas, but how to apply them.   I used roughly 4 hours and 58 minutes of the time allotted.  

So, I am now officially a CQE.   But what does that mean?  

When I found out, I tried to explain the certification to people I was on a supplier audit with yesterday.   I said, "Certification isn't just about building a career, but you'd be surprised how much learning you get just from studying for the exam."   They weren't impressed at the way I could suddenly calcuate the probability of a system failure or could define the amount of nonconforming product a system would generate given only the mean, standard deviation, and specification of a process.

I explained it to my boss.   "This is a milestone in my career.   After all, we only have two people in all of the company who have obtained this (including me), and we had to hire the other one of them from outside."   He was mildly interested, since he is thinking about taking the exam next cycle (December), but I'm not sure a big pay raise is in my future.

I told my peers.   "It was tough, but you can certainly do it.   Our department is quickly becoming much more competitive, and this would set you apart if cuts come."   Nobody seemed excited.   In fact, my former boss said, "Congratulations!   You are not officially an overqualified quality geek."   Actually, I'm slightly happy about that response since I've felt like an underqualified one for so long.   YAY overqualification!

Who gains from certification in the long run?   I'd like to believe it's the company, but I really think it's the person with the certification.  The person going through the certification process will learn new skills that they can apply to the job almost immediately, thereby benefiting the company.   But, my experience has been that companies are a bit myopic about this.   After all, aren't you the same schmuck that was here yesterday?   "Bah to you," they say.  "And bah to your certification."

The person who gains is the person with the certification.   Your peers aren't very appreciative, since you've raised the bar for them.   Your boss may be a bit threatened, and may not see why it's so damned important.   (Funny how those same bosses are often looking for certifications on their job postings, though.)   And, your coworkers who haven't gone through a similar rigorous certification process may see it as just a training certificate.   "Wow, you received certification?   I went through Oracle training just last week myself!"   Not quite the same, friend. 

To reemphasize, the person who gains is the one with the certification.   And then only when you leave your job to find another one.  

At least, let's hope.   If a Google search on CQE is any indication, many employers are looking for this certification.   Things might be looking up for my career.   So says, Windhazel...CQE!

P.S.   Anyone looking for an overqualified quality geek? 

Posted by: Windhazel at 22:42 | link | comments (3) |
pointless

Is Tums sufficient for gas?

Surprisingly, this is not another poop post.   Perhaps, I should say "thankfully, this is not another poop post."

Instead, I'd like to rant about something that has bothered me a long time.   That is, the price of gas.

What brings this little rant about the price of gasoline is that a few of my coworkers were talking about how OPEC recently increased their production by X number of barrels and how the price has already gone down.   Celebrations abound, apparently.

What I find interesting about the discussion between these coworkers is that very few of them of fuel-efficient cars.   One of them works in the same building with his wife, yet doesn't carpool.   One owns a big Lexus SUV.   Another lives in a nearby city and drives a very, very big full-size pickup and drives 20 miles one-way to work.    Everybody is feeling the pinch.

I, on the other hand, somewhat welcome the change in gas prices.

Oh, don't get me wrong.   I hate it that I can no longer fill up my little 4-cylinder car's gas tank for under $20.   The change is gas prices is definely starting to change my behavior.   But, then again, isn't that how it's supposed to work?

As a fan of classical economics, I believe in a straightforward approach to ecomomics.   If the supply stays the same, but the demand increases, prices rise.   Sadly, the law of supply and demand has finally caught up with us.   Supply may have increased, but our demand has far outstripped supply.   America is finally feeling the reality of the situation.   Here is the opportunity to explore new, substitute fuels.

I have known for a long time that America as a whole would only change our behavior and truly start looking at alternative fuels when the price became painful.   And, honestly, when does it become painful to us?   When our poor neighbor can't make it to the gas station?   Nope.   It's only when we feel the pinch that someone must do something!  Four dollars per gallon is too much to pay, but only when it starts hitting the middle class and even the upper-middle class starts feeling it.   I believe even those who make six figures might even start noticing the pain at the pump soon.    Suddenly, it's a national crisis.   Now, it's those damn A-RABS (pronounced just that way) who are charging absolutely unreal prices for gasoline.  

But then, who gave them the power?   Well, darned if it wasn't us!   We had a chance to investigate alternative fuels a long time ago, but we didn't.   Why?   Because it was economical to take our cheap gas and run, somewhat like a Steve Miller Band song.  As long as gas was below $1 per gallon, who cares?

So, the time has come to pay the piper.  (Sometimes the piper is known as OPEC.)   Unfortunately, it's the poor that will bear the brunt of this in the short term; much as they usually do.   But, who really gives a fuck about the poor when it takes $80 to fill the tank of my Ford Expedition?    Baby, in the good ol' U.S. of A., it's all about me!   

Back to all of my liberal little coworkers.  Here was a group of people who certainly don't conserve gas and each make at least $75K a year.   These are the people who are complaining about gas prices and feel that only now is the time when someone should come and bail us out.   In the conversation, I heard not a single person talk about taking a bus to work.  Carpooling was never discussed.    The idea of buying a Toyota Priusnever quite made it into the conversation.  Instead, the focus was on the increase in supply and how it was long overdue.   Forget that people in Europe pay much more for gasoline.   Forget that we created this problem for ourselves with our increased consumption.   Forget that not a single person at the table was seriously supportive of alternative energy and was willing to pay for it.   It's not our fault!  Someone else is to blame!

I'm not sure where I was going with this blog, but I am certainly tired of the whining about gas prices.   Instead, let's embrace the change in gas prices as a way for us to take a good, hard look at ourselves and figure out how we reduce our depenence on foreign nations to meet our ever-increasing wants.   Let's not be whiny babies about the whole thing, but instead focus on our own behaviors.   It may be a bit inconvenient, but I think that this "gas crisis" may make us reevaluate the difference between needs and wants.   Instead of being outwardly-focused, perhaps it's time for us to look at ourselves in the mirror and decide what actions we can take to make the situation better.  Not the government.  Not the A-RABS.   No one else but us.   Let's not do it because it's a pain in the ass to us, but to everyone -- most importantly, those who are making marginal wages.  They felt it a long time before we did.

Let's not look to the government or someone else for answers.   Let's look at ourselves.

Because even Tums cannot solve the current gas situtation.   Instead, it will take a lifestyle change for everyone.

I can only hope that all Americans are ready for the challenge much sooner than later. 

Posted by: Windhazel at 21:00 | link | comments (2) |

Graduations abound!

How long has it been since I've blogged?   Well, let's just say that it's been so long  I can't remember and I'm way too lazy to go back and look.   That's a while.   Here are a few updates on the exciting life of Windhazel.

1.   On May 3, my fiancee graduated with her masters in public administration (MPA).   I wasn't able to attend the graduation since I was in class that day, but I sat in Stats and watched the event streamed over the network on my laptop.   Boy, I'm glad that it wasn't important to understand paired t-tests for the Stats final, as I wasn't paying very close attention to the instructor while I watched her walk across the stage.  

Here is one cool thing that I did not know about getting a master's degree:  in some ceremonies, the candidate is actually "hooded" there on stage.   I had seen professors at college graduations walking around with a rainbow of different hoods, but it didn't occur to me that was part of getting a masters agree.  

Of course, when I saw her get hooded, I immediately wanted a hood too.   This had an effect on my interest in event #2.

2.   On May 17, I actually walked across the stage for my bachelor's degree.   No hood was awarded, although I was given an award for my academic prowess by the advisors of my group.   The bad part:   when I was sitting there in the audience, I was watching my classmates walk across the stage and heard the Director of Academics call their names one by one.  "Barb Coventry, Summa Cum Laude; Bob David, Cum Laude;  Tom Davidson, Summa Cum Laude."  I was a little excited since my family was in the audience, and I had graduated Summa Cum Laude.   When it time for my name to be called, I get "Wind Haz" and that was it.   They botched my last name and forgot to make a single reference to my honors.   BAH!

Anyway, I'm glad it was over.   I spent most of the time during the ceremony talking to the people on each side of me.   I don't care whether you're in the audience or receiving your degree, graduations are fairly boring.   Blech.   

Which brings me to point #3...

3.   My daughter graduated high school on May 23.   YAY!!!!   By this point, she was already living at her mother's (another story altogether), but I headed to where the graduation was held and sat through that event.   I'm glad she made it.   But, honestly...that was pretty boring too.   You sit there and wait for your kid's name to be called -- maybe a couple of her friends.   The rest of the time I spent talking to people on each side of me.

Well, I think that's enough for a quick update on my status.   A lot of things have happened other than that, but I'm a little short on time.

Talk to you guys later.   Be good.  

Posted by: Windhazel at 20:41 | link | comments (2) |
pointless

Breaking up is hard to do

As of 9:37 last night, I officially became an empty nester.

It really wasn't planned that way.   I'd like to say that my daughter moved out with mutual respect and love between us.   I'd love to say that we gave each other a hug and we respected each other's different point of view.   I really, really want to claim that we parted on great terms.

I want to say all of that.   Of course, that would be a series of huge lies.

Instead, we parted with the slamming of doors and a lot of hard feeling.   I was angry because I expected her to be at my house on Friday and Saturday night and I heard nothing from her.   Not a call.  Nothing.   She said she'd be over after the prom on Saturday with her friend, but Saturday evening and Sunday morning rolled around and no kid.  

When she showed up at my house on Sunday, I was pissed.   When I was a kid, we had our ass beat if we didn't bother to leave a note...but TWO DAYS?   

"Well, you could have called me," she said.  

"I shouldn't have to call you," I replied.   "It's your responsibility to let me know where you are."  

The argument escalated, and then she said, "I'm outta here," packed up some of her crap, and left.

Tonight, I came home and the garbage cans were full.  True to form, she had not filled up OUR garbage can, but our neighbors.  This was exactly the kind of thing that had pissed me off while she was here -- me first, forget others.

When I checked her room, it had been cleared out.   Not a single trace of her remained, but a pile of thumbtacks where she had taken down all of her posters.  

My feelings?   Angry.  Hurt.  Sad.   For the next hour, I walked around not sure what to do with  myself.   I tried to call my fiancee, but she didn't answer.   That hour was spent feeling lost.

Finally, I realized what was going on.   I had a breakup.

All the signs were there.   I felt the same anger, hurt, and sadness when I broke it off with her mom.   Honestly, my daughter and my relationship was much like mine and my ex-wife's; the same arguments I had with her mom, I had with my daughter.   Funny -- I had the same arguments with my ex-mother-in-law too.  Such is the influence of a mother on her daughter.

Once I realized that I had gone through a breakup, everything fell into place.   I don't know much, but I do know about breakups.   I've been through my share. 

I spent this evening cleaning the house and making it like I envisioned it would be if my daughter would follow the rules.   I collected the few remaining items she had left and put them in a single pile.   I ordered the two books that she had borrowed (that I knew about) and ordered replacements.   (Her unwillingness to return things she had borrowed had reduced her borrowing privileges down to a single book at a time.  I guesss those days are over.)

So, here I sit -- in a much cleaner, Earth-friendly, and quieter house.   I'm feeling okay again.   I think I'll make over this "breakup" okay.

The next trial is May 23, when I'll be going to her graduation from high school.   Much like a breakup, the next public meeting will be awkward.   So will the next 27 meetings.   You just have to work through these things.

Because, really, breaking up is hard to do.   Ultimately, you survive it and move on.   

And, I hope at the end of this, my relationship with my daughter is a little stronger.   Let's hope it will all work out in the end.   Like a good breakup shoud.

Posted by: Windhazel at 22:25 | link | comments (3) |

Funny, you look more like a comic book...

I hoped by the look on her face that she might have misheard me.   Tragically, that wasn't the case.

"What do you do for a living again?"   She cocked her eyebrow and gave me a decidedly skeptical look.

"I'm a quality engineer," I repeated.

She gave me another long, doubting glance before turning back to her work.  "Funny," she said.   "You don't look like an engineer."

My heart tumbled down my ribcage and lodged itself uncomfortably in a nasty neighborhood of my stomach.   I hear that phrase entirely too often.

I don't know what it is that keeps me away from being a "real engineer."   Well, outside of an engineering degree, but I'm increasingly skeptical that going back for a Masters in Industrial Engineering will qualify me as a full-fledged engineer.    After all, don't they call Industrial Engineers "IE's" (for imaginary engineer) for a reason -- perhaps many?   In my department, we only have two engineers with an industrial engineering undergraduate degree, and I seem to lead the pack as far as knowledge in the also-ran category.  Yet the feeling of being a real, honest-to-god industrial engineer seems to escape me.

Often, I approach my job with a mixture of anticipation and fear.   Anticipation in learning new things, putting some statistics to work, and making a difference in the quality of this or other organizations.   Inside, though, I cower and part of me starts sounding reminiscent of Pinocchio; except instead of wanting to be a real boy, I just want to be a real quality engineer.    I could learn all the techniques.   I can apply the tools.   I can describe the quality philosophy of Deming, Juran, and Taguchi, but the inner feeling of being a real engineer continues to allude me.

So, I'm scared -- scared that someone will suddenly stop me one day (probably my boss's boss) and say, "I'm sorry, we finally figured out that you are a fraud.   Can you box up your stuff please?   But first, step over here while we publicly humiliate you.   Thanks bunches!"

I imagine that's why I've worked at getting so many certifications.   Perhaps if I had one more certification -- and it's the hard one this time (like the rest were easy) -- I can stave off the inevitable day of reckoning.   Before they get rid of me, they'd have to get rid of everybody else that is "less qualified," and that would give me a chance to beat a hasty retreat and find a new company in which to hide.  That is, if someone will take an obvious fraud.

(Of course, I like my idea that I've worked so hard because I would like to be not just an engineer, but someone who MAKES A SIGNIFICANT CONTRIBUTION TO THE FIELD.   I'd like to be THE IDEAL JOB CANDIDATE.   It's capitalized like that in my head too, and often coupled with ideas like "A QUALITY GREAT."   But, sometimes I wonder about the motivations I have for busting my little fanny.   Self-actualization or irrational fear?   Hmmm....)

I guess I'm so disappointed by the statement, "Huh -- I never would have guessed you were an engineer" because I do work hard at it.   I'm currently in the middle of three books:  Statistics for Dummies, A First Course in Quality Engineering, and Principles of Quality Costs.   And this is on top of my two graduate courses.   I ordered two more quality-related books today, not thinking about when I'd ever have the chance to read them.    But, I have to continue to grow to be great, don't I?

I also work so hard at it because I don't find the application of statistics to real problems particularly easy.  I spend a lot of time just trying to understand the problem and to figure out what technique is appropriate.    Do other engineers have such a hard time with this?   I don't know, but I suspect they actually "get it" and don't have to spend hours attempting to solve seemingly simple problems.

My personality doesn't help much either.   I like who I am and how I am, but most people guess me as being in marketing or sales.  And, in some parts of my life, I am.   I hope in my quest to be a "real engineer" I don't have to neuter my personality.   Blech.

That's my gushing for tonight.   I'm frustrated that people judge "my book" by it's cover, but I'm secretly scared that the cover might be right, and I've been reading too much between the lines for an engineering subtext, only to find out it was a comic book the whole time. 

If I'm destined to be a comic book, let's hope it's a good one.   I hear Bruce Wayne was one hell of an engineer.

Posted by: Windhazel at 23:12 | link | comments |

Calm like a bomb

I can't remember the last time I wrote on my blog.   It has to be at least three weeks.   Honestly, I'm too tired to go back and check it and deliver my usual precise, engineer analysis of irrelevant information.

What have I been up to for three weeks?   Mostly graduate school.

in case you were wondering, graduate school sucks.  I'm working my normal 40-hour week and still taking 6 credit hours.   It doesn't seem like that much, but I've noticed that the homework seems to have gone up a notch between my undergraduate degree and my graduate school.   Couple that with the fact that the professors seem to be terribly vague in classroom discussion, so I've been forced to "read actively;" that is, take notes while I read, think about the implications of what I'm reading, and generally figure things out for myself instead of having it spoon-fed to me.   Challenging?   Yes!   Thought-provoking and worthwhile?   Definitely!   A pain in the ass and a horrible time-consuming activity?   No doubt about it.   I keep thinking of IML's statement, "Take arm and beat oneself around the head and neck and wonder 'Why did I go to graduate school?'"   Okay, IML didn't say that exactly, but you get the gist.

Part of it is that I haven't been willing to give up much since I started graduate school.   I'm still in Toastmasters and probably more active than I normally have been in the past.   I'm still studying for my CQE exam that comes up in June.   I continue to donate plasma twice a week (good for reading, bad for taking notes).   I have the joys of having a pre-college teenage daughter every two weeks and a fiancee the other two.   In short, I haven't given up much except for running; and that only temporarily until I get a week when I'm not behind in homework.   I'm shooting to start running again next week, but I'm afraid that getting back in shape won't happen again until after my CQE exam.

So, here I sit -- exhausted from doing my a chapter of reading in Law class, yet stressed out because I know I am far behind and I'm not sure where I'm going to come up with that time before class on Saturday.   I'm listening to a playlist called "Depressing Work Music," but am freaking out about whether I'm going to make my deadlines for assignments.   Calm like a bomb, as Rage Against the Machine would sing at billion decible levels.

Tonight I noticed one side effect of graduate school is that my penmanship has certainly suffered.   As an undergraduate, I had immaculate penmanship, marred only when under the influence of several glasses of "inspiration juice."   Now, my words are a barely-recognizable scrawl.   I know now why doctor signatures are so horrendous -- they've taken eight years of notes and their poor little hands just make letters that approximate our alphabet in some rough way.

All that said, I can't say that I hate working toward this next goal.   It's fun to say, "Yeah, I'm in graduate school."   I find the studies interesting and I'm already planning on my next educational achievement.   I keep discussing with my college the idea of coming back as an adjunct professor teaching a survey quality course, which I find strangely exciting.   But, like many worthwhile goals, the outcome is fantastic, yet many of the individual moments on the path to that goal suck big ol' donkey dongs.   (Ed. note:  No offense intended to those who suck donkey dongs for a living or even for a hobby.   Who am I to judge?)

In short, if it seems like it's terribly (or blissfully) quiet from my little part of the Internet, know that it isn't because I've given up the idea of blogging or am cheating on this blog with a MySpace page.   Instead, I'm learning the tortuous (pun intended) route through contract law and wrapping my brain around probability mass functions in stats class.   It's all good; yet strangely bad.

Like Douglas MacArthur, I will be back.

Posted by: Windhazel at 23:20 | link | comments (1) |

Enough!

There comes a certain moment in time where one is belaboring the point, and we must say "enough!"  Unfortunately, I do not have such a point in my normal blogging life.   How sad for you.

As I was watching Lou Dobbs and other shows on CNN this evening, much ado was made about Barack Obama's speech where he stated that his preacher's words were certainly not in keeping with his own beliefs.   And, the question was raised why Obama doesn't repudiate and reject his preacher for making such a comment. 

I feel that that this is the time when we, as voters, Republican, Democratic, and of all flavors, must say "enough."

It was one thing when Geraldine Ferraro said something stupid -- she was part of Hillary Clinton's campaign team.   The same goes for when Barack Obama's campaign person said something stupid.   But, Obama's preacher?   Is he a member of Obama's campaign and speaking for the Obama platform?   I don't think so.   He may have been a spiritual and paternal figure to Barack in the past, but do his comments factor into Obama 's ability to lead.   Again, I don't think so.   By this standard, Jimmy Carter should have never been elected due to Billy Carter, JFK's presidency should be judged on the basis of Teddy Kennedy's actions, and George W. Bush should live in infamy based on his daughter's partying ways.   I don't think that's a fair basis to select or think about a president. 

On Lou Dobbs, they were talking about the idea that if a preacher in your church said something inappropriate (as Barack's preacher arguably did), then should your integrity require you to leave?    Some were arguing for this line of thinking.

First, I have my doubts that anyone would actually leave the church if the spiritual leader said something stupid.   Really, I believe that most people would not leave the congregation, integrity or no. 

The essential part of our humanness is that we all have opinions.   The essential part of being human in society is to look at not one or two or even three instances where someone has a contrary opinion and decide whether to associate with that person based on those isolated views, but you instead evaluate the whole of the relationship.   This is why marriages stay together even though people in the relationship have a differing point of view.   As my fiancee rightful points out, this is a matter of respect for the other person's viewpoint, no matter how silly.   Evaluation of contrary opinions in light of the overall gain one gets from the relationship is why we can exist together as a society.

So, I've had enough of the coverage.   Lou and CNN as a whole, let's move on from this.   Instead of crucifying Barack and asking "Is he doing enough," let's ask whether his appreciation and tolerance for a viewpoint that is not his own is a good thing.   I tend to believe it is, and I believe it is something that is severely lacking in most of politics (and modern society) today.

Posted by: Windhazel at 21:15 | link | comments (3) |

What happened?

This year I was committed to blogging more, but something seems to have happened.   I had set a goal to be able to come to the motime web page and see that I've blogged at least twice that week.   Sadly, today I went to the motime home page and saw that I had blogged a whopping ZERO times in the past week.   WTF!?

Well, lately it's been a bit hard to find time to blog.   Yeah, I know that's a total cop out.   But, what's been going on is the pre-grad school panic.   I know that once grad school starts, I won't have the same opportunties to get to the gym and play Xbox 360, so I've been screwing off like I had two months to live and my life depends on winning another car on Burnout Paradise.  

By the way, MaybeKnott, I love Burnout.   For $60 there are roughly a million things to do in a sprawling virtual city, many involve driving very fast and smashing into things.   Just driving around town causes thick, manly hair to grow in various places on my body (but not the top of my head for some reason).

Starting Saturday, all that changes.   Saturday I start my first two classes.   Honestly, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed already and I haven't sat through a single class yet.   Strangely, I do have homework due this Friday, a day before class starts.   Weird.

I promise that I'll try to be more faithful about blogging.   Really, I need to make it a priority again and get my two posts up a week.   I don't want to get to November and NaBloPoMo and be all out of blogging shape.   I could pull a pinkie finger or something.

What happened?   I became lazy.   And lazy doesn't write blogs.

But maybe I should write one or two.

Posted by: Windhazel at 20:57 | link | comments |

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