No, I Wasn't Abducted by Aliens....I Think.
And oh yeah, I'm still alive and back from the Midwest. So far no one here has asked to touch my hair because "they've always wanted to see what it's like".
Yeah, I was less than thrilled living out there.
I've always felt like I was a half a step to the conservative side of a center. Out in Indiana, I was a flaming liberal. Yay.
Yeah, I was less than thrilled living out there.
I've always felt like I was a half a step to the conservative side of a center. Out in Indiana, I was a flaming liberal. Yay.
Nope, Not Working for Me (Spoilerish)
I've seen the first 3 episodes of #13 now and this just isn't working for me.
As feminist as I am, I'm not a fan of gender swapping roles "just because". However, I'll be the first to say that the character of The Doctor doesn't do anything that would preclude the character from being a woman. Still, #13 is just rubbing me like a microplaner rubs a piece of citrus.
Let me count the ways.....
A female Doctor isn't canon (crikey, I never thought I'd be "that guy"). We know that there were Time Ladies on Gallifrey, the doctor has referenced having a wife and #1 traveled with his granddaughter. There's no real good reason for The Doctor to regenerate into a woman
This is a weirdly idiosyncratic thing, gender aside, I don't like Jodi Whitaker as the Doctor. I like the actress (she broke my heart in Broadchurch as she evolved from broken mother to woman's advocate). But while I adore her as an actor, I think she's too pretty, young, and vivacious for the role.
The war that led to the destruction of Doctor's home planet took place between #8 and #9. When they show was rebooted, the iterations of The Doctor from #9 through #11 (Eccelston, Tennant, Smith), got younger with each regeneration. After meeting The War Doctor and finding out that he didn't destroy Gallifrey but saved it, the next Doctor was older (Capaldi), within the age range of most of the Old School Doctors.
I've always thought that, intentionally or not, that this was a powerful commentary on how The Doctor dealt with the guilt he carried when he thought he destroyed his home planet. It was almost as if he was willing himself to be younger, go back in time. The age difference between 12and 13 just feels like a wrong note to me (But hey, every Whovian's mileage will vary).
If they had to have a female Doctor, they should have thrown a ton of money at an English actor over 50 (Helen Mirren, Judy Densch, Emma Thompson, Charlotte Rampling or someone like that). A woman who could project a sober maturity but still have a sensuous gleam of mischief in her eye.
I think they spent too long on the whole, "I'm not sure who I am yet" schtick. Too much, "OMG I forgot I'm a woman now". But this is more an issue with writing. I had the same issue with #12's companion Bill. We established that she was a lesbian in her first appearance and lost count of how many episodes they pulled the "eye roll, I'm only interested in girls, no boys allowed". We get it Bill, we get it.
While we're on the topic of the writing, the promise of no Daleks or Cybermen leaves me cold and (so far) I'm not crazy about the rustic looking, self built sonic screwdriver. I don't even like the new Tardis :(
It still feels like a sci-fi series, just not Doctor Who. If someone told me this was some sort of reboot of Sliders or Quantum Leap I'd believe it without batting an eye. I've been a Whovian since I was a little kid and PBS began showing Doctor Who in the US. They've got me for one more year but then all bets are off if they don't tighten up the stories and writing.
Why yes, I do think about this way too much.
As feminist as I am, I'm not a fan of gender swapping roles "just because". However, I'll be the first to say that the character of The Doctor doesn't do anything that would preclude the character from being a woman. Still, #13 is just rubbing me like a microplaner rubs a piece of citrus.
Let me count the ways.....
A female Doctor isn't canon (crikey, I never thought I'd be "that guy"). We know that there were Time Ladies on Gallifrey, the doctor has referenced having a wife and #1 traveled with his granddaughter. There's no real good reason for The Doctor to regenerate into a woman
This is a weirdly idiosyncratic thing, gender aside, I don't like Jodi Whitaker as the Doctor. I like the actress (she broke my heart in Broadchurch as she evolved from broken mother to woman's advocate). But while I adore her as an actor, I think she's too pretty, young, and vivacious for the role.
The war that led to the destruction of Doctor's home planet took place between #8 and #9. When they show was rebooted, the iterations of The Doctor from #9 through #11 (Eccelston, Tennant, Smith), got younger with each regeneration. After meeting The War Doctor and finding out that he didn't destroy Gallifrey but saved it, the next Doctor was older (Capaldi), within the age range of most of the Old School Doctors.
I've always thought that, intentionally or not, that this was a powerful commentary on how The Doctor dealt with the guilt he carried when he thought he destroyed his home planet. It was almost as if he was willing himself to be younger, go back in time. The age difference between 12and 13 just feels like a wrong note to me (But hey, every Whovian's mileage will vary).
If they had to have a female Doctor, they should have thrown a ton of money at an English actor over 50 (Helen Mirren, Judy Densch, Emma Thompson, Charlotte Rampling or someone like that). A woman who could project a sober maturity but still have a sensuous gleam of mischief in her eye.
I think they spent too long on the whole, "I'm not sure who I am yet" schtick. Too much, "OMG I forgot I'm a woman now". But this is more an issue with writing. I had the same issue with #12's companion Bill. We established that she was a lesbian in her first appearance and lost count of how many episodes they pulled the "eye roll, I'm only interested in girls, no boys allowed". We get it Bill, we get it.
While we're on the topic of the writing, the promise of no Daleks or Cybermen leaves me cold and (so far) I'm not crazy about the rustic looking, self built sonic screwdriver. I don't even like the new Tardis :(
It still feels like a sci-fi series, just not Doctor Who. If someone told me this was some sort of reboot of Sliders or Quantum Leap I'd believe it without batting an eye. I've been a Whovian since I was a little kid and PBS began showing Doctor Who in the US. They've got me for one more year but then all bets are off if they don't tighten up the stories and writing.
Why yes, I do think about this way too much.
No, I Wasn't Abducted by Aliens....I Think.
And oh yeah, I'm still alive and back from the Midwest. So far no one here has asked to touch my hair because "they've always wanted to see what it's like".
Yeah, I was less than thrilled living out there.
I've always felt like I was a half a step to the conservative side of a center. Out in Indiana, I was a flaming liberal. Yay.
Yeah, I was less than thrilled living out there.
I've always felt like I was a half a step to the conservative side of a center. Out in Indiana, I was a flaming liberal. Yay.
I Blinked and a Decade Passed
And soon it will be my birthday, and then his birthday, and then Fall and Christmas and he will be dead a year and then a decade and then one day I'll be gone and our most intimate shared memories will go with me....
And today it's a day short of a decade. Sometimes it feels like it's been 20 years, other times it feels like it's only been 1.
I'm 1000 miles from home and I still have a pair of his woolen sock, when it gets very cold I wear them. When they fall apart, I really won't have anything left but memories, but it's no longer the unthinkable eventuality it would have been 10 years ago. It's like a divot the grass has grown over and hidden; the scar from that hurt will always be there but only I know it.
And so it should be.
And today it's a day short of a decade. Sometimes it feels like it's been 20 years, other times it feels like it's only been 1.
I'm 1000 miles from home and I still have a pair of his woolen sock, when it gets very cold I wear them. When they fall apart, I really won't have anything left but memories, but it's no longer the unthinkable eventuality it would have been 10 years ago. It's like a divot the grass has grown over and hidden; the scar from that hurt will always be there but only I know it.
And so it should be.
Ding-Dong Jehovah's Witnesses!
I'm working on a paper for a class on online communities for ex Jehovah's Witnesses. (For those of you who don't know I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness which just added a whole other layer of crazy to my childhood).
Anyway.....
I'm looking to conduct an interview with a former Jehovah's Witness who has not sought out online support. I'm doing a qualitative study on the rhetoric and genres that are present in their exit stories. Does anyone out there in LJ land know someone who might be willing to be interviewed?
Anyway.....
I'm looking to conduct an interview with a former Jehovah's Witness who has not sought out online support. I'm doing a qualitative study on the rhetoric and genres that are present in their exit stories. Does anyone out there in LJ land know someone who might be willing to be interviewed?
I Seem To Live Under the Rumpus Room
The people upstairs have 2 kids and a big dog. I am cutting them some slack on the noise because they just moved in and I'm sure they are getting themselves settled.
However....
If this noise; thumping, whining, yelling and general hoopla; continues I will make no guarantees that complaints will not follow.
However....
If this noise; thumping, whining, yelling and general hoopla; continues I will make no guarantees that complaints will not follow.
The Conclusion, Do I Look Like Raymond Babbit to You?
Before you even begin reading this, stop. Below are my feelings, belies and attitudes about "being on the autism spectrum". Some of it is not soft and fuzzy and will irk people. Big surprise.
If you get easily upset when I get blunt, you might do best to skip this post.
When last we left our intrepid heroine, she had just been told that she was on the autism spectrum (apparently, Asberger's Syndrome is no longer used, you're just "on the spectrum")
This did not make me happy. At all.
( The Whole Story )
The scary thing is that if I didn't know myself so well, was more easily persuaded and followed authority without question, sorta like my mother, this story could have ended with me just giving up on my life because of what I couldn't do. This episode didn't do a thing to restore my confidence Asberger's diagnoses, if anything, it's made me even more leery of them.
*Note to self: never make a statement like that to a shrink. They will try to make you sign a contract promising not to hurt your self. I'm not a 21 year old filled with cutting angst, I'm a 40something year old cockroach, I have a tendency to survive shit I should not.
If you get easily upset when I get blunt, you might do best to skip this post.
When last we left our intrepid heroine, she had just been told that she was on the autism spectrum (apparently, Asberger's Syndrome is no longer used, you're just "on the spectrum")
This did not make me happy. At all.
( The Whole Story )
The scary thing is that if I didn't know myself so well, was more easily persuaded and followed authority without question, sorta like my mother, this story could have ended with me just giving up on my life because of what I couldn't do. This episode didn't do a thing to restore my confidence Asberger's diagnoses, if anything, it's made me even more leery of them.
*Note to self: never make a statement like that to a shrink. They will try to make you sign a contract promising not to hurt your self. I'm not a 21 year old filled with cutting angst, I'm a 40something year old cockroach, I have a tendency to survive shit I should not.
You Keep Using That Word...
...I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Sometimes two words get paired together when only one word will do.
Exhibit 1: Brain Death
The phrase brain death is redundant, it's just death. Someone who is brain dead will never wake up, never recover, they must remain on life support, if they are taken off it their vital organs *will* stop working, the body *will* shut down. It is not a coma, it is not a vegetative state.
In both of those situations, the cerebral cortex is damaged but the brain stem is functioning. If a person is brain dead, the brain stem is profoundly damaged or otherwise no longer functioning. There will never be any reversal. If they are removed from life support the process of death will complete.
The media does a piss poor job of depicting brain death with any accuracy. Those people who wake up after 19 years? They are in a comas rt possibly a vegetative state, not brain dead. It messes with the expectations of grieving families and is harmful to efforts to increase organ donation.
Exhibit 2: Acquaintance or Date Rape
Let's be clear, there is rape. Period.
If someone take their penis or any object and inserts it anywhere on anyone, without their informed consent, regardless of either person's gender, they are a rapist. If someone forces someone else to perform oral sex on them, forces it on them or does it to them when they are not able to give informed consent, they are a rapist
It doesn't matter if the two of are strangers, friends, lovers, or spouses; it is rape. If he or she is a passed out, a prostitute, or the two had sex 2 hours ago, it is rape. Even if the person raped does not report it or the law declines to prosecute, it is still rape.
The only thing different about date or acquaintance rape is that the rapist is someone who should have been protecting their victim, someone he or she should have been able to trust. That means the date or acquaintance rapist isn't just a rapist, they are also a treacherous piece of shit.
And did I mention they are still a rapist.
Got it? Good.
Exhibit 3: Sexual Harassment
The boss who continues to walk up behind a woman on his staff and put his hands on her shoulders. The co-worker who thinks it's funny to tell Nazi jokes to someone Jewish even though they have been told it's not funny. The manager who puts constant, unreasonable pressure and mocks an older worker because, "it's about time s/he retired". (For the record, these are all situations I was made aware of when I worked in HR).
It's all harassment. It doesn't matter if you use sexual/sensual behavior, threats, fear, offensive humor or mockery. If someone is deliberately creating an environment that makes it physically or emotionally difficult for someone to do their job, it's all harassment. If called on it the only valid response is, "I'm sorry, I will not to do that again" and then to stop the offensive behavior. "I was just kidding"; "you're being too sensitive"; or "Joe/Jane doesn't mind when I say/do that" is just an extension of the harassing behavior.
So to recap, there is death, rape and harassment, no prefixes necessary. Any question?
Sometimes two words get paired together when only one word will do.
Exhibit 1: Brain Death
The phrase brain death is redundant, it's just death. Someone who is brain dead will never wake up, never recover, they must remain on life support, if they are taken off it their vital organs *will* stop working, the body *will* shut down. It is not a coma, it is not a vegetative state.
In both of those situations, the cerebral cortex is damaged but the brain stem is functioning. If a person is brain dead, the brain stem is profoundly damaged or otherwise no longer functioning. There will never be any reversal. If they are removed from life support the process of death will complete.
The media does a piss poor job of depicting brain death with any accuracy. Those people who wake up after 19 years? They are in a comas rt possibly a vegetative state, not brain dead. It messes with the expectations of grieving families and is harmful to efforts to increase organ donation.
Exhibit 2: Acquaintance or Date Rape
Let's be clear, there is rape. Period.
If someone take their penis or any object and inserts it anywhere on anyone, without their informed consent, regardless of either person's gender, they are a rapist. If someone forces someone else to perform oral sex on them, forces it on them or does it to them when they are not able to give informed consent, they are a rapist
It doesn't matter if the two of are strangers, friends, lovers, or spouses; it is rape. If he or she is a passed out, a prostitute, or the two had sex 2 hours ago, it is rape. Even if the person raped does not report it or the law declines to prosecute, it is still rape.
The only thing different about date or acquaintance rape is that the rapist is someone who should have been protecting their victim, someone he or she should have been able to trust. That means the date or acquaintance rapist isn't just a rapist, they are also a treacherous piece of shit.
And did I mention they are still a rapist.
Got it? Good.
Exhibit 3: Sexual Harassment
The boss who continues to walk up behind a woman on his staff and put his hands on her shoulders. The co-worker who thinks it's funny to tell Nazi jokes to someone Jewish even though they have been told it's not funny. The manager who puts constant, unreasonable pressure and mocks an older worker because, "it's about time s/he retired". (For the record, these are all situations I was made aware of when I worked in HR).
It's all harassment. It doesn't matter if you use sexual/sensual behavior, threats, fear, offensive humor or mockery. If someone is deliberately creating an environment that makes it physically or emotionally difficult for someone to do their job, it's all harassment. If called on it the only valid response is, "I'm sorry, I will not to do that again" and then to stop the offensive behavior. "I was just kidding"; "you're being too sensitive"; or "Joe/Jane doesn't mind when I say/do that" is just an extension of the harassing behavior.
So to recap, there is death, rape and harassment, no prefixes necessary. Any question?
Rutgers Commencement, 2014
So this is going on at the old alma mater. I was making a post to FB but it go too long so I'm putting it here so I won't forget.
I see the issue with Dr Rice as indicative of some other issues. First, I've always wondered why the university doesn't solicit suggestions from the graduating students as to who they might like to see as a speaker (if they do, I certainly did see it done prior to either my undergrad or MA ceremony).
I think the administration was insane to *not* anticipate that there would be pitched protests against any member of the Bush administration cabinet to campus. This is an administration that still inspires very strong options on both sides of the political aisle. As Dr Rice said so eloquently, in her declination, commencement is a day to celebration, not controversy and bad feelings. It is not a day for a particularly controversial speakers (especially one who is commanding a $35K fee).
The real disgrace here is how tin the ear of whoever made the decision to ask Dr Rice to speak at commencement. It put her in an awkward situation. While I's sure she is quite used to being booed and protested, this is an entirely different case. It caused an unnecessary upset at a time when students should be reveling in their achievements.
Lover or hate her politics, I appreciate the sentiment that she expressed that she felt that she had become a distraction and did not wish to take away from the joy and excitement that is commencement. I shudder to think how many speakers would have just showed up anyway.
Everyday is a freaking party.
I see the issue with Dr Rice as indicative of some other issues. First, I've always wondered why the university doesn't solicit suggestions from the graduating students as to who they might like to see as a speaker (if they do, I certainly did see it done prior to either my undergrad or MA ceremony).
I think the administration was insane to *not* anticipate that there would be pitched protests against any member of the Bush administration cabinet to campus. This is an administration that still inspires very strong options on both sides of the political aisle. As Dr Rice said so eloquently, in her declination, commencement is a day to celebration, not controversy and bad feelings. It is not a day for a particularly controversial speakers (especially one who is commanding a $35K fee).
The real disgrace here is how tin the ear of whoever made the decision to ask Dr Rice to speak at commencement. It put her in an awkward situation. While I's sure she is quite used to being booed and protested, this is an entirely different case. It caused an unnecessary upset at a time when students should be reveling in their achievements.
Lover or hate her politics, I appreciate the sentiment that she expressed that she felt that she had become a distraction and did not wish to take away from the joy and excitement that is commencement. I shudder to think how many speakers would have just showed up anyway.
Everyday is a freaking party.
346 Days Can Be More Than a Lifetime
346 days.
Once upon a time I met a man. We had been reading each other’s blogs, and realizing that we lived close to each other, made a date. That was the beginning of a lusty, passionate fling. Neither of us wanted to commit to a future. Until one day I looked up to see him staring at me and I started crying because we both knew that things had gone from a fling into being in love with each other. No relationship is perfect but some are good and this was good.
I'll just jump to the end. On a Tuesday he threw a blood clot which caused a stroke. Wednesday night he had another, more devastating stroke and the damage was too great. He was declared brain dead by one doctor and in 24 hours after another doctor confirmed the diagnosis he would be removed from life support.
I stayed with him all night I holding his hand and talking to him about the vacation we had put a down payment on, the memories we had made. I finally left about 8am the next morning with only 346 days of memories.
What’s a girl to do?
346 wonderful, lusty, funny, exciting, comforting loving days. Today is 7 years since he died. 7 years.
I believe that things that happen aren't good or bad but that it’s what we do with it that matters. My love was an organ donor. In his death people were able to see again, 2 dying people got kidneys. In his death other people were given such great gifts.
Every March I ask all of my friends and readers to do something that is difficult for many people: make arrangements to donate your organs; discuss your wishes with your loved ones and encourage them to do the same.
**Parents, I ask you to do the most difficult thing of all: sit down with your co-parent and discuss organ donation if the unthinkable befalls your child.**
If you are racial or ethnic minority this is even more important as too many minorities die waiting for an organ. Go to “Donate a Life” for more information, including the position of most major religions on organ donation.
I don't think about him every day anymore, but I remember the day I met him and how I learned that I can love and be loved. Time did help to heal the wound of losing him but the scar will always be there; a small divot in the lawn that the grass has grown over and only I know it’s there.
I’m begging you to please have that conversation. Thanks.
Once upon a time I met a man. We had been reading each other’s blogs, and realizing that we lived close to each other, made a date. That was the beginning of a lusty, passionate fling. Neither of us wanted to commit to a future. Until one day I looked up to see him staring at me and I started crying because we both knew that things had gone from a fling into being in love with each other. No relationship is perfect but some are good and this was good.
I'll just jump to the end. On a Tuesday he threw a blood clot which caused a stroke. Wednesday night he had another, more devastating stroke and the damage was too great. He was declared brain dead by one doctor and in 24 hours after another doctor confirmed the diagnosis he would be removed from life support.
I stayed with him all night I holding his hand and talking to him about the vacation we had put a down payment on, the memories we had made. I finally left about 8am the next morning with only 346 days of memories.
What’s a girl to do?
346 wonderful, lusty, funny, exciting, comforting loving days. Today is 7 years since he died. 7 years.
I believe that things that happen aren't good or bad but that it’s what we do with it that matters. My love was an organ donor. In his death people were able to see again, 2 dying people got kidneys. In his death other people were given such great gifts.
Every March I ask all of my friends and readers to do something that is difficult for many people: make arrangements to donate your organs; discuss your wishes with your loved ones and encourage them to do the same.
**Parents, I ask you to do the most difficult thing of all: sit down with your co-parent and discuss organ donation if the unthinkable befalls your child.**
If you are racial or ethnic minority this is even more important as too many minorities die waiting for an organ. Go to “Donate a Life” for more information, including the position of most major religions on organ donation.
I don't think about him every day anymore, but I remember the day I met him and how I learned that I can love and be loved. Time did help to heal the wound of losing him but the scar will always be there; a small divot in the lawn that the grass has grown over and only I know it’s there.
I’m begging you to please have that conversation. Thanks.
Merry 2014 All You Special Snowflakes!
This time last year I had an MA in Communications for about 2 weeks. If you had asked me where I would be today, I would have said still living in New Jersey, still going to Rutgers, still spending time with the same people and going to the same places.
What a difference 365 days makes.
This sand and saltwater in her veins Jersey Girl is now living in the Midwest and will
Just going through my LJ I can see how many helloes and good byes have been said this year. How many stories had commas or semi colons dropped in the midst of them while people paused to regroup, catch their breaths or shifted course. How many questions didn't get answered and how many answers showed up unbidden.
I can't wait to see what 2014 will bring; Happy New Year, you all!
What a difference 365 days makes.
This sand and saltwater in her veins Jersey Girl is now living in the Midwest and will
Just going through my LJ I can see how many helloes and good byes have been said this year. How many stories had commas or semi colons dropped in the midst of them while people paused to regroup, catch their breaths or shifted course. How many questions didn't get answered and how many answers showed up unbidden.
I can't wait to see what 2014 will bring; Happy New Year, you all!
Like a Ping Pong Ball On Amphetamines
OK, this is how fucking random my thought process is.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bart_calendar Had a post about Romeo and Juliet is not a romantic play (and he's quite right).
I was looking up a note I made in my copy about Romeo's age and I thought about how Wuthering Heights is another story that people think of as romantic when it most emphatically is not.
That made me begin to hum the Kate Bush song Wuthering Heights
Which led to me set up a whole line up of 80s music in YouTube to listen to as I work
So I've just gone from Romeo and Juliet to The Pet Shop Boys in under 30 minutes. Makes sense to me.
bart_calendar Had a post about Romeo and Juliet is not a romantic play (and he's quite right). I was looking up a note I made in my copy about Romeo's age and I thought about how Wuthering Heights is another story that people think of as romantic when it most emphatically is not.
That made me begin to hum the Kate Bush song Wuthering Heights
Which led to me set up a whole line up of 80s music in YouTube to listen to as I work
So I've just gone from Romeo and Juliet to The Pet Shop Boys in under 30 minutes. Makes sense to me.
Just Another Data Point
I just realized that today would have been my 15th anniversary.
No one thinks while taking their vows, "well, this will go down in flames in less than a decade" and yet it happens. Often. To a lot of people. Despite their love, best intentions, gumption, beliefs, or any other factor.
I'm not sad or happy or really much of anything. My wedding day is just another data point in my life.
The day was beautiful; I can truly say one of the 5 happiest days in my life. Looking back, I don't know that my ex had as good a time as I did. I knew you couldn't slow down time so I just tried to remember as much as I could so I could fill in the details between the pictures in our album for our children.
But 15 years later, my good china (service for 16??!!) sits in a box in my pantry; I'll get around to selling it one day. There's no house in the suburbs, no children playing in the backyard, no corporate office, no annual cruises, no family holidays. I'll probably never have any of that again and I am strangely very ok, even relieved, about that. I guess I tend to prefer a blank page to a full script.
Anyway, time to stop procrastinating and get back to my paper.
No one thinks while taking their vows, "well, this will go down in flames in less than a decade" and yet it happens. Often. To a lot of people. Despite their love, best intentions, gumption, beliefs, or any other factor.
I'm not sad or happy or really much of anything. My wedding day is just another data point in my life.
The day was beautiful; I can truly say one of the 5 happiest days in my life. Looking back, I don't know that my ex had as good a time as I did. I knew you couldn't slow down time so I just tried to remember as much as I could so I could fill in the details between the pictures in our album for our children.
But 15 years later, my good china (service for 16??!!) sits in a box in my pantry; I'll get around to selling it one day. There's no house in the suburbs, no children playing in the backyard, no corporate office, no annual cruises, no family holidays. I'll probably never have any of that again and I am strangely very ok, even relieved, about that. I guess I tend to prefer a blank page to a full script.
Anyway, time to stop procrastinating and get back to my paper.
Unpretentious Browns and Greys
There are still times, more often than not, when I feel like I'm leading with my left foot when everyone else is leading with their right. I just don't feel as smart as the rest of the herd.
I can't drop names and spout theory like some of the people in my cohort.
I'm a pretty shitty teacher and I don't have the passion for it that a lot of the others do.
I'm getting through stats by the skin of my teeth. For half the class this is a refresher, for me this is like learning Russian. Medieval Russian.
I'm only making Bs in my writing assignments.
But....
I'm trapped on a group project from hell with this harpy on a topic I don't give a rat's ass about. I told her pick whatever, I will research and write on it because that is what I do.
We met with our professor and this woman still didn't have a clear idea what to do and kept asking the prof what we should do for our project. The professor through out the idea of doing a social network map and analysis of a group of organizations and everyone's face went blank
Except for mine.
I immediately caught on to what she was suggesting. She and I began tossing out literature to look at, what method to use to get good data, software we could use to construct the map, etc. I could feel my brain kick into overdrive. I could feel my face light up.
The other people in the group were looking at me like I had 3 heads.
I forget sometimes that I am a plodding tortoise, not a speedy jackrabbit. I am slow but persistent and I know what I know. And when you put me in my zone I can move at the speed of light.
I'll never be a tiger lily, an iris or even a daffodil. I am a geode. And if I just keep being a geode, and stop comparing myself to the roses and peonies and anemones, I'll be good.
It'll all be good.
No you can't always tell one from another
And it's best not to judge a book by it's tattered cover
I have found when I tried or looked deeper inside
What appears unadorned might be wondrously formed
You can't always tell but sometimes you just know
'Round here we throw geodes in our gardens
They're as common as the rain or corn silk in July
Unpretentious browns and grays the stain of Indiana clay
They're what's left of shallow seas, glacial rock and mystery
And inside their shines a secret bright as promise
Carrie Newcomer
I can't drop names and spout theory like some of the people in my cohort.
I'm a pretty shitty teacher and I don't have the passion for it that a lot of the others do.
I'm getting through stats by the skin of my teeth. For half the class this is a refresher, for me this is like learning Russian. Medieval Russian.
I'm only making Bs in my writing assignments.
But....
I'm trapped on a group project from hell with this harpy on a topic I don't give a rat's ass about. I told her pick whatever, I will research and write on it because that is what I do.
We met with our professor and this woman still didn't have a clear idea what to do and kept asking the prof what we should do for our project. The professor through out the idea of doing a social network map and analysis of a group of organizations and everyone's face went blank
Except for mine.
I immediately caught on to what she was suggesting. She and I began tossing out literature to look at, what method to use to get good data, software we could use to construct the map, etc. I could feel my brain kick into overdrive. I could feel my face light up.
The other people in the group were looking at me like I had 3 heads.
I forget sometimes that I am a plodding tortoise, not a speedy jackrabbit. I am slow but persistent and I know what I know. And when you put me in my zone I can move at the speed of light.
I'll never be a tiger lily, an iris or even a daffodil. I am a geode. And if I just keep being a geode, and stop comparing myself to the roses and peonies and anemones, I'll be good.
It'll all be good.
No you can't always tell one from another
And it's best not to judge a book by it's tattered cover
I have found when I tried or looked deeper inside
What appears unadorned might be wondrously formed
You can't always tell but sometimes you just know
'Round here we throw geodes in our gardens
They're as common as the rain or corn silk in July
Unpretentious browns and grays the stain of Indiana clay
They're what's left of shallow seas, glacial rock and mystery
And inside their shines a secret bright as promise
Carrie Newcomer
Good Times!
So it turns out that they did bollocks up my financial aid package but they finally got my financial aid straightened up. Yup, I was right all along when I said I should have been offered a loan. Feh.
To explain, I have a fellowship, which is basically a type of scholarship. I am getting paid to study and produce. In addition I am a teaching assistant (TA) who teaches one class (F/t is 4 classes so they call me a quarter time TA). Someone deep in the bowels of somewhere only recorded my TAship *and* they put me down as an Indiana resident. They never recorded that I have a 12 month fellowship as well. Over the summer, I was told that I would have to have to gather all of my financial paperwork (receipts, tax returns, etc) and file an appeal.
Fuck me.
So I went to Financial Aid today to find out what I needed to to to appeal. the first guy who looked at my file kept squinting at the screen as if he didn't get what he was seeing. That was because he didn't. He said something didn't look right and what he was looking at didn't match what I was telling him I had.
So he left the office to go talk to someone else.
He came back with a slip of paper with a name and number. A room number. A room number in another building. Soooo on with my backpack and over to the other building until I found that person. Fortunately for me, she knew I was coming and, to her credit, she had my file on her desk and waiting for me. She explained to me exactly what my scholarship award package was. I asked her to call Financial Aid while I was in her office and explain to them what she had told me and she did.
I thanked her, shook her hand and trudged back to Financial Aid.
The guy I spoke with before was busy so I spoke with someone else. She made the same face the first guy did and then went to talk to the same person the first guy did but she came with a smile. She sat down punched some stuff into the computer and told me I should have been offered a loan (which is what i wanted all along). Allegedly, by the end of next week I will have some money to begin paying back my benefactors and paying off my mounting bills.
This will be very funny bu Christmas but right now I'm freaking EXHAUSTED. If this information had been recorded properly in the first place, I would not be living off of cabbage and cheap frozen dinners (not that I don't enjoy them but I'd like to have meat more than once a week).
I'm writing this all down so that a year or two from now I can look at this and laugh
I will laugh about this, right?
In other news, Big Brony Party on campus this weekend!! And the first of the semi weekly grad studentscotch and beer pickling session mixer. You can guess where I'll be.
To explain, I have a fellowship, which is basically a type of scholarship. I am getting paid to study and produce. In addition I am a teaching assistant (TA) who teaches one class (F/t is 4 classes so they call me a quarter time TA). Someone deep in the bowels of somewhere only recorded my TAship *and* they put me down as an Indiana resident. They never recorded that I have a 12 month fellowship as well. Over the summer, I was told that I would have to have to gather all of my financial paperwork (receipts, tax returns, etc) and file an appeal.
Fuck me.
So I went to Financial Aid today to find out what I needed to to to appeal. the first guy who looked at my file kept squinting at the screen as if he didn't get what he was seeing. That was because he didn't. He said something didn't look right and what he was looking at didn't match what I was telling him I had.
So he left the office to go talk to someone else.
He came back with a slip of paper with a name and number. A room number. A room number in another building. Soooo on with my backpack and over to the other building until I found that person. Fortunately for me, she knew I was coming and, to her credit, she had my file on her desk and waiting for me. She explained to me exactly what my scholarship award package was. I asked her to call Financial Aid while I was in her office and explain to them what she had told me and she did.
I thanked her, shook her hand and trudged back to Financial Aid.
The guy I spoke with before was busy so I spoke with someone else. She made the same face the first guy did and then went to talk to the same person the first guy did but she came with a smile. She sat down punched some stuff into the computer and told me I should have been offered a loan (which is what i wanted all along). Allegedly, by the end of next week I will have some money to begin paying back my benefactors and paying off my mounting bills.
This will be very funny bu Christmas but right now I'm freaking EXHAUSTED. If this information had been recorded properly in the first place, I would not be living off of cabbage and cheap frozen dinners (not that I don't enjoy them but I'd like to have meat more than once a week).
I'm writing this all down so that a year or two from now I can look at this and laugh
I will laugh about this, right?
In other news, Big Brony Party on campus this weekend!! And the first of the semi weekly grad student
Walter White, Heisenberg; Heisenberg, Walter White.
At some point in the character's story arc, there is a flip from "Walter White, milquetoast HS chemistry teacher pretending to be Heisenberg, enigmatic drug lord" to "Heisenberg, enigmatic drug lord pretending to be Walter White, milquetoast HS chemistry teacher".
This might be that moment. It's as if Walter White let his mask slip a little in front of his wife and she saw the fires of hell and damnation underneath.
Skyler White: Walt, please, let's both of us stop trying to justify this whole thing and admit you're in danger!
Walter White: Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I AM the danger! A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!
One of the three most intense moments in all of scripted TV history. This two minutes is why Bryan Cranston deserves every Emmy he's gotten and is an example of how razor sharp the writing is. The uneasy fear in his wife Skyler's eyes(Anna Gunn), tells you that she has met Heisenberg and she *knows* who she is talking to now.
This might be that moment. It's as if Walter White let his mask slip a little in front of his wife and she saw the fires of hell and damnation underneath.
Skyler White: Walt, please, let's both of us stop trying to justify this whole thing and admit you're in danger!
Walter White: Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I AM the danger! A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!
One of the three most intense moments in all of scripted TV history. This two minutes is why Bryan Cranston deserves every Emmy he's gotten and is an example of how razor sharp the writing is. The uneasy fear in his wife Skyler's eyes(Anna Gunn), tells you that she has met Heisenberg and she *knows* who she is talking to now.
(no subject)
For the record, I'm glad the new Doctor is an English (well, Scottish actually) white guy. I'm all for diversification, but IMO, The Doctor must always be a white guy from the UK and I don't see any need to change that. For one, he's never changed race or gender so I've always taken it as implied canon that those elements of his physicality do not change.
Beyond that is the overarching story of The Doctor. A major part of The Doctor's story, as I see it, is being an outsider while outwardly appearing to be the ultimate insider in western culture: a white, hetrosexual(ish) male*.
As much as I never liked the whole Rose and The Doctor storyline, one of the things is dealt with from a dramatic point of view is that The Doctor isn't just a really smart human with cooler toys than the rest of us. I think one of the reasons I liked Matt Smith's portrayal so much is his Doctor seemed to be all about foreignness. Whether it was trying endless (and odd) combinations of food or learning how to play soccer and just be a guy, here was enjoying experiencing what it means to be a "normal" human and slightly oblivious to the looks from people who didn't get that he didn't get it.
This is an important feature in no small part in that is adds to the character's complexity. He's not human, doesn't even completely grasp what it means to be human, yet he is the self appointed defender of the human race. All the while living with the assumption of other humans who don't know him that he *is* human.
I think that adding an "other" to his identity would have been an unnecessary encumberance that would muddy that key facet of The Doctor's character.
Beyond that is the overarching story of The Doctor. A major part of The Doctor's story, as I see it, is being an outsider while outwardly appearing to be the ultimate insider in western culture: a white, hetrosexual(ish) male*.
As much as I never liked the whole Rose and The Doctor storyline, one of the things is dealt with from a dramatic point of view is that The Doctor isn't just a really smart human with cooler toys than the rest of us. I think one of the reasons I liked Matt Smith's portrayal so much is his Doctor seemed to be all about foreignness. Whether it was trying endless (and odd) combinations of food or learning how to play soccer and just be a guy, here was enjoying experiencing what it means to be a "normal" human and slightly oblivious to the looks from people who didn't get that he didn't get it.
This is an important feature in no small part in that is adds to the character's complexity. He's not human, doesn't even completely grasp what it means to be human, yet he is the self appointed defender of the human race. All the while living with the assumption of other humans who don't know him that he *is* human.
I think that adding an "other" to his identity would have been an unnecessary encumberance that would muddy that key facet of The Doctor's character.
Movin' Right Along in Search of Good Times and Good News
...Movin' right along,
Footloose and fancy-free
You're ready for the big time
Is it ready for me?
So I packed up my place and my life is now sitting in a metal box. I've been with family for a couple of days and tomorrow morning I hit the road and leave home.
It's funny when I think that this is not a 2 week road trip, this is a *relocation*. I'm won't be returning home in X number of days. I won't be back in this state until I visit at the holidays. And even then I'll have to travel an hour to see my old friends and visit my old stomping rounds.
No wonder I like Dr Who so much. I was a goth college dropout and wanna be rock star who morphed into the model of a no bullshit taking corporate middle manager. Then I morphed into a downsized suburban housewife who morphed into a non-traditional college student who morphed into a grad student who was just working for the man to cover tuition.
And now? I'm not even sure who the hell I am or will be I just know I have to move over 800 miles westward to do it. The beams will just shoot out of my fingers and toes and I'll be re-formed.
I guess as long as I am happy and successful (on my terms) it really doesn't matter very much what I have to do to do it. Does it?
Footloose and fancy-free
You're ready for the big time
Is it ready for me?
So I packed up my place and my life is now sitting in a metal box. I've been with family for a couple of days and tomorrow morning I hit the road and leave home.
It's funny when I think that this is not a 2 week road trip, this is a *relocation*. I'm won't be returning home in X number of days. I won't be back in this state until I visit at the holidays. And even then I'll have to travel an hour to see my old friends and visit my old stomping rounds.
No wonder I like Dr Who so much. I was a goth college dropout and wanna be rock star who morphed into the model of a no bullshit taking corporate middle manager. Then I morphed into a downsized suburban housewife who morphed into a non-traditional college student who morphed into a grad student who was just working for the man to cover tuition.
And now? I'm not even sure who the hell I am or will be I just know I have to move over 800 miles westward to do it. The beams will just shoot out of my fingers and toes and I'll be re-formed.
I guess as long as I am happy and successful (on my terms) it really doesn't matter very much what I have to do to do it. Does it?