Spoiled.

I finally got my second monitor at work yesterday. I am so spoiled. I can never go back to one monitor again. For those of you who may believe that this is a bit overboard, I just want you to know that I have eight different windows open right now that I'm using for things I'm working on. And it's often more. So having twice the desktop space to put things like my script debugger and data viewer is a dream come true. As you can see in the photo, I'm delighted. I'm not sure exactly what causes the phenomenon of whatever shows up on my second display being pure white when I take a picture.

Jury Duty

I've only been summoned for jury duty once, and I was able to get out of it because I was on the opposite corner of the country for two years. Thank goodness. This time I was not so lucky and faced the tough decision of either going or having a warrant issued for my arrest. Tough call. I went.

8:07 AM - I arrive at the parking garage. Some girl on her phone feels the need to drive 2 mph all the way up to the 5th level. I'll save my comments on the driving of girls for some other time.

8:30 AM - I check in and wait. I start reading. Mr. Dickens and I are going to be very well acquainted by the end of the day.

9:17 AM - They start playing a movie in the jurors' assembly room. Now, I feel like there are four basic categories of movies: good movies, awful movies, movies that are pretty good and I'm willing to watch if I'm with a girl that wants to watch it but wouldn't watch otherwise, and movies that are so awful and so girly no girl could convince me to watch it with them. Never Been Kissed is definitely in that third category. I turn my headphones up and shut my eyes.

9:35 AM - The lady at the desk starts calling names. She counts off 30 people, and I'm not one of them. I exhale.

9:53 AM - Once again, names are being called to go upstairs. She calls 28... 29... 30! I'm safe. ....31.... 32.... 33.... Oh dear. ...46... 47... 48... This is getting suspensful... 61... 62............... "Ryan Moriarty, 63" BLAST!
64, 65. Period. So close....

10:15 AM - We line up outside the courtroom. You know, maybe this is good. How big is a jury? Twelve people? So 12 out of 65... I like those odds way better than 12 out of 30.

10:30 AM - We're seated. We're rolling. It's an aggravated assault case. Sounds kind of boring. But that's probably a good thing.

10:45 AM - The judge starts asking people if they would have any problem with their job if they're on the jury. Several people say they haven't been on vacation in many years. Now, I appreciate Judge Grant's desire to make the experience easier on us by cracking jokes, but do we really need a five minute discertation about the importance of going on vacation? Giving people court orders to schedule a vacation within the next three months is fine and all, but let's speed it up.

11:55 AM - We're breaking early for lunch. We'll reconvene at... 1:30?? What the heck am I going to do until then!? Are you kidding!? Who needs an hour and a half to eat lunch?!?

12:10 PM - I finish eating my overpriced calzone. You know what, it said it was a calzone, but it was really more of a stromboli. Calzones are more rolled-shaped, this was definitely folded.

12:27 PM - Is it 1:30 yet?

12:28 PM - Guess not.

12:38 PM - Where am I, anyway? Jefferson and 1st Ave? The ballpark is only a few blocks away, maybe I'll walk down there and back.

1:03 PM - Well, that was fun.

1:20 PM - I seriously haven't read this much in a long time.

1:30 PM - Finally. Dang.

2:14 PM - I don't like the way this is shaping up. A lot of these people have really good excuses or really biased opinions that are going to keep them off the jury. What excuse do I have? I'm bottom of the food chain at work, they couldn't care less if I'm gone for a day or a week, I've got disposable income out the ying-yang and won't miss the money too badly... I'm in trouble.

2:55 PM - We're going to take a 10 minute break.

3:05 PM - ...

3:15 PM - ......

3:30 PM - ...................................................................

3:40 PM - FINALLY the bailiff comes out to read a bunch of numbers that are excused.
Come onnnnnnn big money big money big money........ No. Twenty(ish) people are gone. My odds have increased to 12 out of 45.

4:23 PM - OK, now things get interesting for me. The defense attorney starts talking about burden of proof, and innocent until proven guilty, etc. Juror #10 starts talking about how she feels like the fact that we're all there, and the fact that the police felt the need to arrest him, means to her that the guy is probably guilty. As she's talking, I realized that, deep inside, I think I feel the same way.

I felt awful. I've been thinking lately about how judgmental I am, and this made it worse. Who am I to assume that this guy is guilty without hearing anything? People are falsely charged all the time! What's his side of the story? He's innocent until proven guilty, but for some reason I've got this little bug in me (or so said the defense attorney) that says he's got to be guilty until I decide he's innocent.

4:40 PM - I'm pretty mad at myself now. But I do feel that way, as bad of a person as that probably makes me. It's some consolation to me, though, that there's no way I'm getting on this jury. It's for the best. He deserves someone who won't prejudge him like I apparently did.

4:55 PM - Stop everything. Two people have to run out to catch a bus to Surprise. Meaning... I have to come back tomorrow at 10:30. There's a part of me that wishes that they would tell me just not to come because there's no way they're letting someone like me on the jury, but I feel bad enough about judging him to be guilty that I'll do it just to try to ease my conscience.

5:00 PM - Man, I'm already out here. I might as well go to the Diamondbacks' game.

9:17 PM - Diamondbacks win!
...
9:45 AM - As I'm about to back to the courthouse for day two, my dad tells me that they generally don't select engineering/programmer types because we think too much. I like the sound of that, but I already know I'm off the hook.

10:30 AM - Pick up where we left off.

11:40 AM - We're excused while the final jury is selected.

12:00 PM - Only 10 jurors are taken, and they're all below number 40. I guess they just chose the first 10 people on the list that passed the test, so I was pretty safe up at 63 anyway.

So I was excused. But not before being humbled.

Frustrated.

When I received my calling as first counsellor in the Elder's Quorum, I was excited for the opportunity to serve. I'd been home from PA for a year and had been struggling for ways to serve like I did back in the mission field. Being in a position of leadership was something I really needed.

All of that is still true now, 10 months later, but I'm growing more and more frustrated with the guys in the ward every week. Is it really that hard to round up 5 of the 60 some-odd elders we have every week to clean up the building? I have a pretty tough time that only two of them are available Saturday morning to help with a service project for which we had 20 slots on a sign-up sheet.

What the heck is wrong? I can't help but think there's something wrong with our leadership. Maybe if we were having a hard time getting a couple guys to contribute it would be different, but all of them? Am I a bad motivator? Did I not sell it to them well enough? Or do they just plain not care?

When my mission president was going home (the second time) he pushed really hard for us to always be the "core" of whatever ward or branch we were in, the guys that could be counted on for anything. I'm beginning to understand why he wanted that for me. There is so much work to be done, and that core just isn't big enough.

I guess I need to be a better leader. I'm sure there are plenty of guys willing and able to help if they have the proper leadership to help them do it.

I Am Such a Nerd.

Today I am taking a final for a computer networking class I'm taking. Basically, it teaches me about how the internet works. To briefly summarize, for purposes of explaining why I'm a nerd, when a big file is sent over the internet, a computer breaks it down into little pieces called packets. Packets are sent one by one through the internet to the other computer, which reassembles them back into the original file.

So last night I was studying for this final for a bit, then decided I was bored and was going to bed. I decided to read this talk by Elder Scott first about prayer, because I've had something on my mind I've had a lot of trouble getting an answer for. And what does Elder Scott have to tell me?

"Seldom will you receive a complete response all at once. It will come a piece at a time, in PACKETS... As each peice is followed in faith, you will be led ito other portions until you have the whole answer."

I laughed. Then I was disappointed in myself, because I can tell I'm becoming more of a geek by the day. Then I was happy, because I realized reading that actually helped me out a lot, because I think I've kind of seen those "packets" arriving, one by one, over the past few days. You know, the analogy goes a lot deeper now that I think about it. When a computer receives one of these packets, it sends an "acknowledgment" (or "ACK" in the industry) to the sending computer to say, "hey, I got this packet from you, send more." If the sending computer doesn't get this ACK, then it will send that packet again. Maybe prayer works the same way... as the Lord sends "packets" to you, you have to show him that you got the message (your ACK) before he'll send you another packet. Eventually you'll get your whole answer.

I'm hopeless. Don't tell anyone you read this.

Ants are Awesome

I came home from something Saturday morning and found a huge pile of ants on the sidewalk in front of my house. Upon closer inspection, they were mauling a half an oreo that someone had dropped there. I went inside, and came out a couple hours later to find the oreo chewed up a bit, but completely deserted. I left and came back again, and the ants were back to work, as if they had stopped for a little siesta.

I kept an eye on it for a few days, and this pattern continued. The ants would make the journey from their hole about 15 feet away, grab a chunk of oreo, and walk back, then take a lunch break... possibly to greedily huddle in their own secluded corner of the colony and eat their harvest.

The final result?


Completely destroyed. You can't even tell that it used to be an oreo. Pretty amazing, huh? I mean, sure ants are annoying when they bite you, but think how sweet it is that they could cause such catastrophic destruction to this poor, helpless oreo. I can't help but wonder what it might have looked like if I was their size. I have to believe that it's somewhat analogous to witnessing Godzilla and Rodan completely level a city, as shown in my artist's depiction:

My Job Rocks.

I was thinking not long ago about how awesome my job is. It is the sole anchor in the grease fire that is my life. Seriously, I think it might be the only thing keeping me sane lately. What about it is so special?

• It makes me think. Seriously, there are some mornings where I sit there and just ponder for a few hours the obstacles that stand in my way. I think, "What's the best way to password-protect this?" or "Why isn't it finding all the records it's supposed to find?"
  
  
• It lets me be creative. Part of the fun is that it isn't just writing scripts, but finding pretty ways to display the information. Everyone in the back will get all irritable if I make something that isn't easy on the eyes.
  
  
• No customers. When I worked at U-Haul last year, everyday I would die a little inside whenever someone pulled into the parking lot. I knew it wasn't a given that some sort of fight would break out, but it was very, very likely. Now, I just hang out in my cubicle and listen to my radio. Alone. Every once in a while someone will come and ask me to do a favor, or I'll talk to the other IT guys for a bit, but there are certainly no customers that want to complain about how their truck ran and demand a refund.
  
  
• I essentially work whenever I want. I'm instructed to get 15-20 hours a week, and as long as I do that, and get my projects done, no one cares when I'm there. I have a meeting every Friday from 10-12ish to discuss my week's work, but I can even miss that if necessary. What, you need a ride somewhere at 9:30 in the morning? Sure, I can be late to work. No one cares. Oh, we're going to play roller hockey at 2:00? Yeah, I'll just take off for a few hours and come back. I've ditched entire days to go snowboard.
  
  
• My boss is rad. As for the aforementioned snowboaring excursion, I poked my head in my boss's office on Tuesday morning and said, "Hey Todd, I'm going snowboarding. I'll be back Friday." His response? "Excellent, have a great time!" And I left. Granted, it was Spring Break, and he expected me to miss a couple days, but I didn't have to negotiate at all. Shoot, I probably could have gotten away with not saying anything and just not showing up.
  
  Even when I'm not ditching work, he's great to work with. He adds things to my to-do list, I have him explain things to me if necessary, then I go back to my cubicle and he doesn't bother me. If I make progress on my list, then he feels no need to micromanage.
  
  
• Really, though... No customers. Theoretically, I HAVE customers, but it's not the same as Harkins, which made me hate humanity as a whole. You know what? I was a real jerk when I was 16, now that I read that thing. That actually gives me hope that I'm progessing in my compassion and patience. .....Anyway, every customer service job I've had has taught me that customers are generally very angry, impatient people, just like I apparently was when I was 16, and at Able I don't deal with that.
  
  
• I can actually put it on a resume. The bus yard was a circus everyday, but, really, is that going to impress anyone in a job interview when I graduate? Which leads me to possibly the best thing about my job...
  
  
• It's kept me in school. A year ago at this time I was struggling with my future. Should I stick with computer science? Maybe being an auto mechanic would be a lot better? No, I'm in by far the worst semester I've ever seen, but having a job in the field that I love going to everyday makes me realize that this is definitely the path for me to be on.
  

I apologize if your job isn't as sweet as mine. Take comfort in the fact that it's the only thing I've got going for me these days that's sweet.

A Riddle

If you go on a road trip, and your back seat doesn't look like this when you're done, did the trip actually happen?

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Anyone who knows me knows I'm a guy who loves his sports. I've probably spent more than $200 on Coyotes and Suns tickets this winter. I could probably name more hockey players in Phoenix than 99% percent of the country has ever heard of, anywhere. While you're not sure who the Suns' coach is, I could tell you who the Suns ASSISTANT coaches are.

But every year at the end of March, I'm reminded of what my real passion is: baseball. Today is Opening Day, which means my boys the Diamondbacks are playing their first of 162 action-packed (at least if you love the game like I do) games. Really, I'm so excited I can barely work. Here I am writing about baseball instead of making up Yuri's employee feedback database. The only thing that kills my good mood is it's stinking raining in Cincinatti, so I'll probably have to go to class before the game starts. But then again... what's my priority, really?

UPDATE: Turns out I do have my priorities straight. I ditched my second class to come home and watch the last four innings of the game. I was a little skeptical, but when I saw Jeff Salazar crush one into the right field bullpen, I knew I'd made the right decision!

I have a problem.

Man... so I was at Goodwill yesterday looking for some shirts. You see, a couple of months ago I accidentally insituted Hawaiian shirt Fridays at work, and I decided that my supply of such vestments was insufficient. By far, the best supplier of Hawaiian shirts is Goodwill, so naturally, that was my first stop.

Of course, you can't just go to Goodwill for one thing, you have to browse. Who knows what you'll find there, and for dirt cheap, too! Well, I found one thing I never thought I would see there: a kneeboard. For $15. No joke. The thing is a piece of trash, but... FIFTEEN DOLLARS! I had to get it. It might be the stupidest impulse buy of my life. It was a tough call, though; would I regret not buying it more than I regret buying it? Really, overall, I'm pretty comfortable with my decision.

Breaking News: The Double-decker Taco is Amazing.

I got a couple double-decker tacos from Taco Bell for lunch today, and I realized that they are pure genius. You know what the worst part is about trying to eat a hard taco? The thing falls apart on your first or second bite, and your lunch degrades into a magic show where you try to keep everything from falling onto your plate or onto your lap. But you can't get a soft taco, because soft tacos are lame and you might as well pay more money and get a decent burrito. Solution? Wrap up the hard taco in something that will maintain its form as the crispy shell rips in half. Hence, you get the crunchy goodness of a hard taco with the structural integrity of the soft taco. Brilliant.

FINE. DANG.

I received enough complaints about my "Where I need to be" junk that I feel the need to expound on it a bit more.

I know that I said, "is it possible that God would keep me from getting married," but I was more throwing it out there than saying that I believe it. I don't really believe that God would sabotage me to keep me somewhere. Maybe what I wrote put too much emphasis on that and not enough emphasis on the fact that we're all given specific talents and we're placed in situations where we can use them to benefit others. I guess I really wanted to focus on doing everything I can to serve people wherever I am instead of focusing on getting out of wherever I am.

But at the same time, I'm not conceding that where I am is completely in my power. I still think it's possible--not definite, but possible--that part of the reason I'm still where I am is because God knows I'm simply not ready to move on.

I will admit that I'm not exactly doing anything to try to move on, which is more a factor than anything else, I'm sure. I saw a movie the other night that made me realize one of the reasons I hate dating. "Dan in Real Life" is that movie where that guy from The Office tries to be serious, and let me say that by the end of the movie I'd totally forgotten that he's on The Office. He was good. Anyway, the premise of the movie is he meets this girl, and essentially he starts acting like a moron because of it. It served to remind me that I'm exactly like that. I love how smart and rational and selfless I am when I'm not chasing after a girl, but the second I fall for someone, I get so stupid and selfish and retarded that everyone around me suffers. So that's yet another reason why I don't date: I'm not mature enough to handle everything that comes with it. And I'm not going anywhere until I get past that.

My Spring Break

This photo I took of myself flying down the mountain should tell you everything you need to know about my week off.

Music video to follow.

Where I Need to Be

I read an Ensign article several weeks ago that chastised me probably more than it was intended to do. It was about something that was, is, and will always* continue to be something I hate more than anything else: dating. One part of it has especially been pressing on my mind lately.

"Sometimes we must ... accept that the Lord presently needs our talents applied in other areas. Elder Neal A. Maxwell said, 'Patience … helps us to realize that while we may be ready to move on, having had enough of a particular learning experience, our continuing presence is often a needed part of the learning environment of others.'"

I've had several experiences in the past week or so that have really driven that point home for me. Let's say that I married the first girl I really liked when I got home. Heck, let's say I got married two weeks ago. Who does those things? Who helps that guy move that huge stack of tables? Who has that talk with that guy in the quorum who was really struggling? Who says that thing in testimony meeting that that one girl really needed to hear? I mean, there are other people that COULD have... but they didn't. I did.

I would love nothing more than to use that as an excuse not to date, but frankly, I have MUCH better excuses not to date. Har har, no, but seriously, is it possible that God would keep me from getting married, in spite of my best efforts to thwart him, because he needs me in this ward, in this house, in this calling? Scratch that--I have given anything but my best effort. But still... hopefully some day I'll be a bit more humble and realize that as long as I'm doing my best to do what he wants me to do, he's going to put me where I'll do the most good, regardless of whether or not that's where I want to be.

*Someone out there is going to think that once I'm married, I won't think dating is so bad. That person is dead wrong. It doesn't matter when, where, how, or even IF I get married; I will always look upon dating as the most evil and vile form of punishment that has ever been thrust upon mankind.

My Billion Dollar Idea

At lunch today I couldn't help but notice that the bag of chips I grabbed was only 1/3 full. What kind of joke is that? I mean, sure, I didn't pay for it, but someone did. In fact, that someone bought dozens of bags. And they only got thirds of dozens of chips.

Thus I conceived my genius idea: start a chip company that puts a lot more chips in the bag, so it's at least 2/3 or 3/4 full. Honestly, how much do you think it would cost to put a handul more of chips in one of those bags? It can't be much more than a few cents per bag. So let's say I charge 10 cents more per bag. That more than makes up for the extra cost to produce it. But I'll make even more than that, because when someone goes to the chip aisle and sees my bag that says "I have twice the chips as that bag over there, for only a dime more!" they're going to buy my bag. In fact, I'll sell so much better than the half-full brands that I could get away with charging the same price. Probably. I haven't crunched the numbers yet.

Scott was sitting next to me as I both verbally and cognitively formed my plan, and, like the pessimistic financial sort that he is, he believes it wouldn't work. He had this crazy idea that by doubling the amount of chips in the bag, I would be doubling my costs and therefore would be forced double my prices. I think he's nuts. Could it really cost that much more for another, what, quarter of a potato per bag? McDonalds sells small fries and large fries, also a potato product. Do you really think it costs them twice as much to give you a large fries as a small fries, only charging 40 cents more?

His other problem was that by filling the bags more, the chips would be more crushed during shipping. He claims that's why chip companies only fill their bags 1/3 to 1/2 full. I think that would be easily solvable when that problem comes up.

I think I'm sitting on a gold mine here. Lucky for me no one's ever going to read this, or my billion dollar idea would probably be stolen.

The Coyotes are Pure Evil.

It was brought to my attention once again today that sports is one area where I am very, very weak. Unfortunately for me, someone in the Phoenix Coyotes organization is aware of this and keeps finding creative ways to exlpoit my weakness to make me spend my money on hockey tickets. At first they simply used a telephone, like civilized people do, to make offers to me every once in a while. I usually managed to resist, and I haven't gotten one those calls in months.

Then they developed a new strategem. I went to buy a mountain dew at work today, as I am wont to do, and as it plummetted to the output of the vending machine I saw "Coyotes, $10 off!" Staring me in the face.



"That's not good."

The dang can is a coupon for $10 of a lower level seat and $5 off an upper level seat. Naturally, I lost all control and immediately went back to my computer to check this week's schedule, and I'm going on Saturday. But I don't want to go alone, so... I need another can.

And that's the thing that really scares me. What if the next can doesn't have a coupon? Will I keep shoving quarters into that blasted machine until I get another one? I think I just might, whether I try to stop myself or not. I'm sick.

So the Coyotes, like the unscrupulous predators all coyotes are, are preying on the sick and the weak. They know I have money. And they want it.