I'm back. I think. Hell, I don't really know anymore.
These past few months have been such a whirlwind for me, it's hard to know whether I'm coming or going. Each day is a feat just to survive, let alone manage to pull together any semblance of grace and poise out of my life. Humor has been waning, and it's hard to write about the silly parts of my life when a lot of times I just want to say fuck it.
But that's not even an option any longer -- so here I am!
There are somethings I just can't talk about on here. Minors are involved, and lawyers, judges and all the terrifying reality of a person that's supposed to be a parent and is instead working every day to make your life a living hell. But, there are somethings that I can still talk about.
Like my god awful dogs (Bitsy managed to get herself stuck in a corner, fall off a counter top, and toboggan down the stairs since last we've talked), a rock-wall I've coerced the manchild into making, and the antics of some friends I have fallen into which are very dear to my soul.
Life is not easy. But, life is good. It's all in what you make of it. And I've never believed that more than I do now.
Showing posts with label Not Dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Not Dogs. Show all posts
Jun 24, 2011
Conservatitve Area
I was driving into work today and saw a sign for a Conservative Area. This confused me for all of three seconds, then I realized that the sign was actually for a Conservation Area. I was crushed. I was hoping to see a herd of angry white men corralled together, doing whatever it is that conservative people do on a regular basis in their natural habitat. I would take pictures. Llife would be grand. Clearly I have issues with reading signs.
Take people for instance. No one person in particular, but you know, people. The general kind. Add my interactions with them, and cue disaster. My inherent flaw with dealing with anyone is I take them for their word. 100%. No questions asked. You say you are going to do something, and I'll hold you to it. That's just dumb. People say things they don't mean. I'm always a bit confused why, but it is what it is I guess. I'm good with people, but (there's always a but), I'm too lenient with my 'benefit of the doubt giving.' I can excuse someone's behavior like no other. It's one of my superpowers, actually. No, who am I trying to kid? I just blow at reading the signs. I know better than to take too much stock in others' words and for fuck sake I need to stop. But I wont. Half the fun in meeting someone new is believing in them.
Internet, lets make a deal. You tell me something, and I'll believe you. Because, you know, we're tight, and that's how things should be. (I wont hold you accountable for your families chain mail sending, because I know you can't help them). In return, I'll keep telling you things, like how I single-handedly funded a child's cult upbringing with a cookie purchase, and how I managed to put my bra on inside out.
Deal?
Take people for instance. No one person in particular, but you know, people. The general kind. Add my interactions with them, and cue disaster. My inherent flaw with dealing with anyone is I take them for their word. 100%. No questions asked. You say you are going to do something, and I'll hold you to it. That's just dumb. People say things they don't mean. I'm always a bit confused why, but it is what it is I guess. I'm good with people, but (there's always a but), I'm too lenient with my 'benefit of the doubt giving.' I can excuse someone's behavior like no other. It's one of my superpowers, actually. No, who am I trying to kid? I just blow at reading the signs. I know better than to take too much stock in others' words and for fuck sake I need to stop. But I wont. Half the fun in meeting someone new is believing in them.
Internet, lets make a deal. You tell me something, and I'll believe you. Because, you know, we're tight, and that's how things should be. (I wont hold you accountable for your families chain mail sending, because I know you can't help them). In return, I'll keep telling you things, like how I single-handedly funded a child's cult upbringing with a cookie purchase, and how I managed to put my bra on inside out.
Deal?
Apr 23, 2011
My Four
I have a pretty kick ass assignment due in my English class. It could be my favorite paper I've ever been asked to write. For the final assignment of this semester we were asked to read Frankenstein and to focus on chapter 14. If you haven't read the novel, this is where the Creature finds four books (after learning how to read by creeping on the cottagers) which, after reading them, comprises of his entire education. We were then asked to evaluate Mary Shelley's choice of books, and pick four books of our own to educate our very own little creature.
This has taken way more thought that I would have ever dreamed. I can pump out papers pretty easily, but there is something about this assignment that is making me really stop and think. I've had a hell of a time coming up with my four books. What is it that I want to teach a creature about life in the first place? Which books eloquently and adequately express those philosophies through their pages? How do I do this without sounding like a total... blowhard? I've made so many lists of books that I'm starting to worry I'm over thinking this assignment a bit too much. I've asked everyone that I know what their list of books would be looking for a bit of inspiration. Everyone has had different selections. It's just so personal, especially if you're a reader.
Well done, professor. You've successfully provided me with a paper that has caused me to think, not bullshit. Other than fiction writing, this has been a very rare occurrence.
So, right, my list. I'm writing it down here so I can't change it. I just have my books selected at this point, and I still need to write the actual paper...
- Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - Charles Dodgson. Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said: "one can't believe impossible things." "I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
- Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte. "My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods; time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath--a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind--not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being"
- Plan Bee - Susan Brackney "As I idly watch them fly from flower to flower and from flower to hive, I realize they have managed to slow my previously frenetic pace, to make me more appreciative of the workings of the universe, and to return me, at least a little bit, to simpler times."
- A Short History of Nearly Everything - Bill Bryson. "It is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you."
You?
Apr 15, 2011
Transparency
Yesterday I was caught in the act of doing something I despise, and I was rightfully called out on it. I made a mistake. This is not something I find myself doing too often. That may sound conceited, but whatev. I make very few decisions without considering all of the consequences ahead of time. This prepares me for most things that may come my way. If I’m finding myself knee deep in some shit, it will be no surprise to me… plus it was probably worth it.
My mistake was pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. This time around, I wasn’t entirely forward, concise, or honest. With myself, mostly. Shame on me. I know better. I allowed myself to hesitate, and do some bush beating, instead of just spitting out what it was that I wanted. The uncertainty came from the risk. I wasn’t afraid of rejection, because that isn’t something that would hold me back in the least. I was more afraid of tainting the short time we have left.
Silly girl.
I find myself adhering to a basic philosophy for my life. Do something, or don’t. I try not to waste a moment mucking around in the wishy-washy middle ground of indecision. If you’re angry, address the issue or get the hell over it. If you want something from someone, ask. If you want to do something, quit freaking talking about it and make it happen. Whatever you do, do not pussy foot around. Do not be uspet with someone for not reading your mind. And, most importantly, do not expect someone to know what you want if you haven't told them. Assuming and hinting can make things complicated, and that is unnecessary. Even if the answer isn’t what you ultimately wanted it to be, at least you have been clear. In this case it worked out nicely in the end.
Lesson learned. Go me!
My mistake was pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. This time around, I wasn’t entirely forward, concise, or honest. With myself, mostly. Shame on me. I know better. I allowed myself to hesitate, and do some bush beating, instead of just spitting out what it was that I wanted. The uncertainty came from the risk. I wasn’t afraid of rejection, because that isn’t something that would hold me back in the least. I was more afraid of tainting the short time we have left.
Silly girl.
I find myself adhering to a basic philosophy for my life. Do something, or don’t. I try not to waste a moment mucking around in the wishy-washy middle ground of indecision. If you’re angry, address the issue or get the hell over it. If you want something from someone, ask. If you want to do something, quit freaking talking about it and make it happen. Whatever you do, do not pussy foot around. Do not be uspet with someone for not reading your mind. And, most importantly, do not expect someone to know what you want if you haven't told them. Assuming and hinting can make things complicated, and that is unnecessary. Even if the answer isn’t what you ultimately wanted it to be, at least you have been clear. In this case it worked out nicely in the end.
Lesson learned. Go me!
Mar 25, 2011
Well. Shit.
The purpose of this blog is perspective. My head is often full of hard to comprehend emotions. Sometimes I need a place to work through whatever it is on my mind less it devours me up. Every now and again I talk about things that make people uncomfortable, and really, I’m okay with that. I try to be respectful of other people and all that bullshit, but at the end of the day this is for me. If you read this, you’re just along for the ride. Seatbelts are mandatory. I also change the stations obsessively and I’m not apologizing. With that in mind, I’ve never had the source of my writing actually read my words.
Manchild knows that I blog, but he has zero interest in wanting to read what I’m writing. If it’s not political pandering of some sort, he could care less. If I wrote about Sarah Palin it might catch his eye... but only if it gave him the opportunity to be angry about something. Dachshunds, fuckery, and my disastrous shenanigans aren’t on his entertainment spectrum. After all, he lives with me. He hears me talk about this stuff obsessively on a day to day basis. I can’t say that I blame him for not wanting to read about it as well.
But, I feel awkward knowing that some people read this. Know parts of my life I haven't got to go through the details in person with them. That we have that uncomfortable silence where I'm wondering what they know, and they're wondering what I haven't shared. Then we're dealing with that middle ground, where I never fair well. Sigh. Not that I'm a shy person, by any means. But, you know. Well, you know.
Manchild knows that I blog, but he has zero interest in wanting to read what I’m writing. If it’s not political pandering of some sort, he could care less. If I wrote about Sarah Palin it might catch his eye... but only if it gave him the opportunity to be angry about something. Dachshunds, fuckery, and my disastrous shenanigans aren’t on his entertainment spectrum. After all, he lives with me. He hears me talk about this stuff obsessively on a day to day basis. I can’t say that I blame him for not wanting to read about it as well.
But, I feel awkward knowing that some people read this. Know parts of my life I haven't got to go through the details in person with them. That we have that uncomfortable silence where I'm wondering what they know, and they're wondering what I haven't shared. Then we're dealing with that middle ground, where I never fair well. Sigh. Not that I'm a shy person, by any means. But, you know. Well, you know.
Mar 20, 2011
Illinoisssssss
We woke up at dawn and headed to the Shawnee National Forest today, and had one hell of a time. Every fall and spring we take the two hour drive down there for the biannual snake migration. That area has a pretty unique little ecosystem going for it. If you're a bionerd like I am, you can read more about Snake Road here: https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&view=bsp&ver=ohhl4rw8mbn4
We were lucky enough to spot 11 snakes, 4 of which were cotton mouths. We also got to witness some toads getting down.
So much fun.
We were lucky enough to spot 11 snakes, 4 of which were cotton mouths. We also got to witness some toads getting down.
So much fun.
Mar 19, 2011
Shit in My Backyard
It's been awhile since I posted any pictures, and I do apologize. My camera died sometime last year, and for some reason I have a real mental block when it comes to buying batteries. Tonight, for whatever reason, I totally remembered. I got to see some pictures that I took of some adorable wildlife in my backyard that I had forgotten about until now. One is a little set of twinlette deer who visited quite often over the summer last year.... the other is a groundhog we named Gary. The photos were taken through the glass so they aren't stellar, but I dare you not to aawww when you see those deer.
I grew up in the country, and now I pretty much live in purgatory. Okay, a subdivision, whatever. I used to see nature all of the time out my back door before I moved out. Now, I get unnecessarily excited when I see wild things in my backyard. Even if they're pretty common critters around these parts, I still love seeing them. Here's hoping that the twins made it through the winter and Gary will come and see us again next year.
I'm heading to Shawnee Nature Reserve tomorrow with the Manchild and that one person that still needs to be properly introduced. I'll have my camera with me so look forward to something of interest. Also, look forward to some substance on Mr. Vague. I've been hesitant and careful with him so far because, well, I feel uncontrollably protective of him, and his time here is limited. Plus, I'm still working out what exactly he'd do with his hands...
I grew up in the country, and now I pretty much live in purgatory. Okay, a subdivision, whatever. I used to see nature all of the time out my back door before I moved out. Now, I get unnecessarily excited when I see wild things in my backyard. Even if they're pretty common critters around these parts, I still love seeing them. Here's hoping that the twins made it through the winter and Gary will come and see us again next year.
I'm heading to Shawnee Nature Reserve tomorrow with the Manchild and that one person that still needs to be properly introduced. I'll have my camera with me so look forward to something of interest. Also, look forward to some substance on Mr. Vague. I've been hesitant and careful with him so far because, well, I feel uncontrollably protective of him, and his time here is limited. Plus, I'm still working out what exactly he'd do with his hands...
Mar 11, 2011
Dancing? Me?
Internet, I've been busy lately. No, I mean it. Really really busy. I've had little time for much needed social interaction, and I've caught myself doing quite a bit of people watching. It's actually one of my favorite things to do, so I wont complain too much. But dang. It makes me crave... interaction. Due to this craving I've made a pact to myself. One time a week I'm going to do something that is fucking awesome.
In the Lou there is a pretty awesome dance scene on Thursday nights. I don't mean the bumpin' and grindin' hooha, but partner dancing. Not that bumpin' and grindin' doesn't need a partner, because you usually need a partner to do the grinding on, but the kind of partner dancing that requires a conversation between you and the person you're dancing with. Salsa dancing is what I've been doing a lot of, and internet, I can't deny it. I'm hooked. I adore everything about it. Mostly, I'm addicted to the conversation you have with your partner while dancing, when no actual words are said. A little pressure on the back tells you to do a spin. A touch of the elbow, go faster. An arm around the waist to slow down. It's just the type of interaction I've needed from complete strangers.
Maybe I'm crazy but sometimes the blah blah blah drives me fucking, well, crazy. I'm tired of talking about myself, and hearing trite things about people I've just met. With dancing, I don't have to get to know the other person. I don't care about their politics, or their job, or really, about them at all. I don't even care what their name is. I just have to say yes, and give them my hand. It makes life so much simpler. We'll figure out the rest in the three minutes we're out there. Then we can really communicate in the way I know best.
So I started to think about other ways people talk without, you know, talking. This made me think about kissing, and that naturally led down the road of thinking about... hands? No, really now. I find myself spending way too much time thinking about what someone would do with their hands. Would they go for the nape of the neck? The small of the back? Shoulders? Hips? Face? Hands in my hair?
Yes, please.
Right. Sorry for that. Anyway. Back on target.
After trying this out for a while, I realized that I actually *like* some of the people there. These now strangers, I know, will become fast friends. I feel it. And I want it Internet, I like them. So much. They are the missing link, the part in my life I'm craving. I know it from the bottom of my heart, like I've known few things before. Now it's just a matter of time. You watch.
In the Lou there is a pretty awesome dance scene on Thursday nights. I don't mean the bumpin' and grindin' hooha, but partner dancing. Not that bumpin' and grindin' doesn't need a partner, because you usually need a partner to do the grinding on, but the kind of partner dancing that requires a conversation between you and the person you're dancing with. Salsa dancing is what I've been doing a lot of, and internet, I can't deny it. I'm hooked. I adore everything about it. Mostly, I'm addicted to the conversation you have with your partner while dancing, when no actual words are said. A little pressure on the back tells you to do a spin. A touch of the elbow, go faster. An arm around the waist to slow down. It's just the type of interaction I've needed from complete strangers.
Maybe I'm crazy but sometimes the blah blah blah drives me fucking, well, crazy. I'm tired of talking about myself, and hearing trite things about people I've just met. With dancing, I don't have to get to know the other person. I don't care about their politics, or their job, or really, about them at all. I don't even care what their name is. I just have to say yes, and give them my hand. It makes life so much simpler. We'll figure out the rest in the three minutes we're out there. Then we can really communicate in the way I know best.
So I started to think about other ways people talk without, you know, talking. This made me think about kissing, and that naturally led down the road of thinking about... hands? No, really now. I find myself spending way too much time thinking about what someone would do with their hands. Would they go for the nape of the neck? The small of the back? Shoulders? Hips? Face? Hands in my hair?
Yes, please.
Right. Sorry for that. Anyway. Back on target.
After trying this out for a while, I realized that I actually *like* some of the people there. These now strangers, I know, will become fast friends. I feel it. And I want it Internet, I like them. So much. They are the missing link, the part in my life I'm craving. I know it from the bottom of my heart, like I've known few things before. Now it's just a matter of time. You watch.
Feb 7, 2011
A List for my Sanity
I'm having a hell of a day/week/year. It's not often that I actually say that, so I feel justified in giving in to a real woe is me moment tonight. This time instead of crying about it (which is a feasible option all things considered) I'm going to focus on the good things that are happening to me right this second.
It really is the little things, and looking through this list, my few little things seem so much more substantial when I take a second and consider all I have to be happy for.
After all, perspective makes everything manageable.
- The man-child landed himself an interview tomorrow. He sent his resume out today, and by noon they had called him back asking him to come in. They could hire him, or they could offer him peanuts and tell him to go fly a kite. Either way, this is a huge boost for his ego since this will be his first real interview. He kind of fell into his previous jobs so this is wonderful. Go him!
- I absolutely adore my husband... way more than words could ever express. He is my biggest fan in all things that I do. Being married to your best friend really is swell.
- Though the cowboy and I may not see eye to eye on everything in the past and present, when I let go of enough pride to actually say something, he's there for me. Without question or judgment. Knowing this is is a real source of strength in my life.
- My long doggies are, for the most part, healthy and happy. Bitsy has an old lady lump that had a blow out and ended up infected, but with some meds it's healing nicely. They are pretty angry about the snow freezing their bits, but such is life.
- Taj and Raja are visiting us. I love them so. I wish, more than anything, that it was under better circumstances. Sometimes the world is an illogical place, and horrible things happen to extraordinary people.
- I'm UNDERSTANDING genetics. It's awful, and some of the most difficult material I've ever tried to comprehend, but with a lot of hard work and a stupid amount of hours studying I'm starting to make sense of things.
- GLEE has started again. Thank dog.
It really is the little things, and looking through this list, my few little things seem so much more substantial when I take a second and consider all I have to be happy for.
After all, perspective makes everything manageable.
Jan 12, 2011
The Sass of a Tranny. A story.
Yesterday was my grandmother's birthday...
I took a herd of my sheltered country family to Vin de Set and the Chocolate Bar, two nice resturaunts in St. Louis. We had time to kill between reservations so we decided to head to The Loop, a trendy little strip of shopping next to Washington University.
The first store we hit was Phoenix Rising where one of my cousin's, we'll call her Mrs Apple, bought a book on dreams for the gal that cleans her house. It was one of those sweet little "just because" buys that always melts my heart... anyways... The next stop on our adventure was Avalon Exchange, a hip little clothing exchange store where all the hipsters get their gear. They also have a fantastic selection of cowboy boots, for whatever reason. While trying on shoes, Miss Apple naively left her little bag with the sweet little book in it on the ground next to her. Yeah, someone stole that bitch.
Miss Apple went to the tattoo / pierced gal that works there and very sweetly asked if someone might have picked up her bag with the book in it. No one that worked there had seen it, but they did have a pretty kick ass surveillance video system. They zipped the tape back a bit and see a woman walk next to Miss Apple and promptly shove the package into their purse. The gal working immediately recognized the thief, since the silly little thing had sold clothes to the exchange store earlier which requires you to give your license and cell phone number. Her name was De'von, and yeah, she was a tranny.
The gals working called De'von and confronted her about stealing the book.
The first store we hit was Phoenix Rising where one of my cousin's, we'll call her Mrs Apple, bought a book on dreams for the gal that cleans her house. It was one of those sweet little "just because" buys that always melts my heart... anyways... The next stop on our adventure was Avalon Exchange, a hip little clothing exchange store where all the hipsters get their gear. They also have a fantastic selection of cowboy boots, for whatever reason. While trying on shoes, Miss Apple naively left her little bag with the sweet little book in it on the ground next to her. Yeah, someone stole that bitch.
Miss Apple went to the tattoo / pierced gal that works there and very sweetly asked if someone might have picked up her bag with the book in it. No one that worked there had seen it, but they did have a pretty kick ass surveillance video system. They zipped the tape back a bit and see a woman walk next to Miss Apple and promptly shove the package into their purse. The gal working immediately recognized the thief, since the silly little thing had sold clothes to the exchange store earlier which requires you to give your license and cell phone number. Her name was De'von, and yeah, she was a tranny.
The gals working called De'von and confronted her about stealing the book.
She denied it.
Hung up on them.
Called back all indigent about being accused of stealing and read them the riot act.
Hung up on them again.
Called back and said, actually, she just found the book and was going to return it to the bookstore and she would bring it back.
Ten minutes later she came strutting in with the book, screaming at everyone in the store saying what kind of person just leaves packages lying around... evidently she was being a good citizen by bringing the stolen book back and she can't believe the treatment she was receiving. Finger snapping and plenty sassy behavior commenced.
Ten minutes later she came strutting in with the book, screaming at everyone in the store saying what kind of person just leaves packages lying around... evidently she was being a good citizen by bringing the stolen book back and she can't believe the treatment she was receiving. Finger snapping and plenty sassy behavior commenced.
Then she stormed out in a blaze of tranny glory.
It was. Amazing.
It was. Amazing.
And my family was reminded why they never ventured into the big city.
Dec 9, 2010
At our house
You'll now find cowboy boots, Copenhagen, and a truck parked outside.
For those of you that know what this mean, you'll understand why I've been MIA. I'm working so very hard to make things normal and get back into the swing of things. Whatever the hell normal may be.
He left three years ago, about this time of year, and the circumstances for our parting...fucking sucked. Things turned wrong somehow, and that meant that being apart was better than being together for him. And that thought kills me. Everything about it just sucked, and I wonder quite often if there will ever be a time that I can think back on it all and not feel ill. Not about what happened, or the choices that I had to make, but that those choices caused him to leave.
And there's him, himself. All 30 years of stubborn and set in his ways. 30 years of morals that shoves shades of gray into black and white boxes. Words that make me think there is no hope, that I am utterly insane, and looks that make me know that in the end, I'm fucking right. That we're fucking right, and that he is just going to have to learn to accept it. And one day he will, right? Right? He has to, because that is what has kept me going these past three years. My husband, that thought, and my own very special brand of stubborn that knows that this will work.
I might not fully understand what it is about him that is so vital to me, and I do not think I need to. All I know is that together the three of us are invincible. And I feel content, and safe in ways I can't fully express in words.
For those of you that know what this mean, you'll understand why I've been MIA. I'm working so very hard to make things normal and get back into the swing of things. Whatever the hell normal may be.
He left three years ago, about this time of year, and the circumstances for our parting...fucking sucked. Things turned wrong somehow, and that meant that being apart was better than being together for him. And that thought kills me. Everything about it just sucked, and I wonder quite often if there will ever be a time that I can think back on it all and not feel ill. Not about what happened, or the choices that I had to make, but that those choices caused him to leave.
And there's him, himself. All 30 years of stubborn and set in his ways. 30 years of morals that shoves shades of gray into black and white boxes. Words that make me think there is no hope, that I am utterly insane, and looks that make me know that in the end, I'm fucking right. That we're fucking right, and that he is just going to have to learn to accept it. And one day he will, right? Right? He has to, because that is what has kept me going these past three years. My husband, that thought, and my own very special brand of stubborn that knows that this will work.
I might not fully understand what it is about him that is so vital to me, and I do not think I need to. All I know is that together the three of us are invincible. And I feel content, and safe in ways I can't fully express in words.
Sep 28, 2010
What I Have Learned
Some things that I have learned I have been taught. Like how to ride a bike, and how to make my bed. When I started learning how to do these things, I was not very confident. In the case of riding my bike, well, I fell down a lot. Turning was a big problem for me. I would turn the handlebars, but I was always afraid to turn them too much in case the bike toppled over and I would fall. My huge turning radius would cause a scene anywhere other than an empty parking lot, but I did not care. I did not like falling, and this fear helped me to ascertain the best way for me to remain on my bike. I learned that a little fear is a great motivator, and not to care what people may think so long as you keep your head upright.
When it came to making my bed, I did not really understand the point. I nagged at my mother a lot; after all, I would be sleeping in the bed again very soon. I would sometimes cheat and not smooth out the sheets underneath. Sometimes I would leave them intentionally crooked just to be spiteful. I would have to work harder to hide the imperfections’ with the comforter and the pillows. This was time consuming, and pretty soon the novelty of sticking it to my mother wore off. I learned that doing things the right way the first time saved more time. In addition I learned to appreciate a freshly made bed.
Some things I had to learn on my own through trial and error. Asking a woman when she is due, even though she looks extraordinarily pregnant, is never a good idea. Never ever. I learned that sometimes your first impressions of a person, even though you are absolutely sure, can be misleading. My assumptions lead to hurt feelings, embarrassment on both sides, and a very awkward silence. I apologized, and it did not fix it the situation. I learned that sometimes sorry is not good enough, and that some situations just need time.
When I was younger I had made a friend in the condo complex that I grew up in. He lived below me, and every day after elementary school we would rush home, throw down our school baggage, and be off. I really liked him, and he really like me. He made me laugh, and he was mindful to play games that I liked best even if they weren’t his favorite. We were going to be friends forever. We would ride our rollerblades around the neighborhood and look at houses that we would one day move into. He was one year behind me, and eventually I moved onto high school leaving him in eighth grade.
We were still friends, but I was busy doing high school things and making new high school friends. I am not sure what all he was doing that year, since we had started to drift apart. I would think about him now and again, and get a little sad, but I never did anything to fix it. There were a lot of different things I could have done to fix it. Then, one day, he died. Death is stupid. You cannot change the end result; there is no coming back from being dead. I learned that it is better to say what you mean to those you care about when they are here then to go on living knowing that you squandered away the opportunity.
And the last life lesson that I have learned is quite simple. When engaging in extracurricular activities with your significant other take the time to make sure the window in the bedroom is closed. I learned that though the applause from the direct tv guys outside is one hell of a confidence booster, it can be a tad embarrassing.
Sep 9, 2010
Thou shall not be an Asshole.
Seriously people. It's time to talk. America, you should be ashamed of yourself. Your tolerance for hate has got to stop. Last time I checked it was 2010 not the 1800's. News Flash! People are different. That doesn't make them monsters.
You're going to have to learn to deal one way or another.
What is the point in hating another group of people? No really, what your end game? Do you want to put them in their place? Make them into slaves? Rid the world of their beliefs? Kill them all off? Change them to be just.like.you? Deposit them on a remote island and never think of them again?
I just don't get the point, and I'm not even trying to be funny. It seems like a whole lot of wasted effort put into something for no good reason. What do you want from your hate? What do you expect to gain? Could someone please take the time and explain it to me because I'm not getting it...
I can hear you now... but but it's my RIGHT to hate. Free speech! Go America!
You CAN go out and burn Qur'ans. You're absolutely right.
No one is going to stop you.
I COULD go out and burn Bibles.
but
I wouldn't. Even though I don't agree with most Christian teachings.
You shouldn't either. Even though you do not believe in the teachings of Islam, or Christianity, or whatever.
It is just an asshole thing to do. So why do it?
Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Having freedom of speech does give you free reign to run around spewing whatever vile pops into your head.
There are all kind of "thou shall not's" running around the world religions these days. Thou shall not kill, or screw around on your significant other, or steal. How about thou shall not be an asshole? Why is it so hard for people to not be assholes to one another? I'm not talking about having our society be closed lipped and PC, I'm just talking about putting a nanosecond of thought into how your actions have an impact on someone other than yourself. This goes for religion, sexuality, and race.
It's not that hard. In fact, I bet it's a way easier mentality to maintain than hate. I mean, you have to put a lot of effort into hate with no finale... at least by not being an asshole there is a future.
You're going to have to learn to deal one way or another.
What is the point in hating another group of people? No really, what your end game? Do you want to put them in their place? Make them into slaves? Rid the world of their beliefs? Kill them all off? Change them to be just.like.you? Deposit them on a remote island and never think of them again?
I just don't get the point, and I'm not even trying to be funny. It seems like a whole lot of wasted effort put into something for no good reason. What do you want from your hate? What do you expect to gain? Could someone please take the time and explain it to me because I'm not getting it...
I can hear you now... but but it's my RIGHT to hate. Free speech! Go America!
You CAN go out and burn Qur'ans. You're absolutely right.
No one is going to stop you.
I COULD go out and burn Bibles.
but
I wouldn't. Even though I don't agree with most Christian teachings.
You shouldn't either. Even though you do not believe in the teachings of Islam, or Christianity, or whatever.
It is just an asshole thing to do. So why do it?
Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Having freedom of speech does give you free reign to run around spewing whatever vile pops into your head.
There are all kind of "thou shall not's" running around the world religions these days. Thou shall not kill, or screw around on your significant other, or steal. How about thou shall not be an asshole? Why is it so hard for people to not be assholes to one another? I'm not talking about having our society be closed lipped and PC, I'm just talking about putting a nanosecond of thought into how your actions have an impact on someone other than yourself. This goes for religion, sexuality, and race.
It's not that hard. In fact, I bet it's a way easier mentality to maintain than hate. I mean, you have to put a lot of effort into hate with no finale... at least by not being an asshole there is a future.
Aug 31, 2010
Well done old boy, well done.
Really people. The hate just needs to stop.
Things seem awfully heated in America right now; so heated you could probably toast a marshmallow by jabbing it on a stick and holding it toward the Atlantic. Millions are hopping mad over the news that a bunch of triumphalist Muslim extremists are about to build a "victory mosque" slap bang in the middle of Ground Zero.
The planned "ultra-mosque" will be a staggering 5,600ft tall – more than five times higher than the tallest building on Earth – and will be capped with an immense dome of highly-polished solid gold, carefully positioned to bounce sunlight directly toward the pavement, where it will blind pedestrians and fry small dogs. The main structure will be delimited by 600 minarets, each shaped like an upraised middle finger, and housing a powerful amplifier: when synchronised, their combined sonic might will be capable of relaying the muezzin's call to prayer at such deafening volume, it will be clearly audible in the Afghan mountains, where thousands of terrorists are poised to celebrate by running around with scarves over their faces, firing AK-47s into the sky and yelling whatever the foreign word for "victory" is.
I'm exaggerating. But I'm only exaggerating a tad more than some of the professional exaggerators who initially raised objections to the "Ground Zero mosque". They keep calling it the "Ground Zero mosque", incidentally, because it's a catchy title that paints a powerful image – specifically, the image of a mosque at Ground Zero.
When I heard about it – in passing, in a soundbite – I figured it was a US example of the sort of inanely confrontational fantasy scheme Anjem Choudary might issue a press release about if he fancied winding up the tabloids for the 900th time this year. I was wrong. The "Ground Zero mosque" is a genuine proposal, but it's slightly less provocative than its critics' nickname makes it sound. For one thing, it's not at Ground Zero. Also, it isn't a mosque.
Wait, it gets duller. It's not being built by extremists either. Cordoba House, as it's known, is a proposed Islamic cultural centre, which, in addition to a prayer room, will include a basketball court, restaurant, and swimming pool. Its aim is to improve inter-faith relations. It'll probably also have comfy chairs and people who smile at you when you walk in, the monsters.
To get to the Cordoba Centre from Ground Zero, you'd have to walk in the opposite direction for two blocks, before turning a corner and walking a bit more. The journey should take roughly two minutes, or possibly slightly longer if you're heading an angry mob who can't hear your directions over the sound of their own enraged bellowing.
Perhaps spatial reality functions differently on the other side of the Atlantic, but here in London, something that is "two minutes' walk and round a corner" from something else isn't actually "in" the same place at all. I once had a poo in a pub about two minutes' walk from Buckingham Palace. I was not subsequently arrested and charged with crapping directly onto the Queen's pillow. That's how "distance" works in Britain. It's also how distance works in America, of course, but some people are currently pretending it doesn't, for daft political ends.
New York being a densely populated city, there are lots of other buildings and businesses within two blocks of Ground Zero, including a McDonald's and a Burger King, neither of which has yet been accused of serving milkshakes and fries on hallowed ground. Regardless, for the opponents of Cordoba House, two blocks is too close, period. Frustratingly, they haven't produced a map pinpointing precisely how close is OK.
That's literally all I'd ask them in an interview. I'd stand there pointing at a map of the city. Would it be offensive here? What about here? Or how about way over there? And when they finally picked a suitable spot, I'd ask them to draw it on the map, sketching out roughly how big it should be, and how many windows it's allowed to have. Then I'd hand them a colour swatch and ask them to decide on a colour for the lobby carpet. And the conversation would continue in this vein until everyone in the room was in tears. Myself included.
That hasn't happened. Instead, 70% of Americans are opposed to the "Ground Zero mosque", doubtless in many cases because they've been led to believe it literally is a mosque at Ground Zero. And if not . . . well, it must be something significant. Otherwise why would all these pundits be so angry about it? And why would anyone in the media listen to them with a straight face?
According to a recent poll, one in five Americans believes Barack Obama is a Muslim, even though he isn't. A quarter of those who believe he's a Muslim also claimed he talks about his faith too much. Americans aren't dumb. Clearly these particular Americans have either gone insane or been seriously misled. Where are they getting their information?
Sixty per cent said they learned it from the media. Which means it's time for the media to give up.
Seriously, broadcasters, journalists: just give up now. Because either you're making things worse, or no one's paying attention anyway. May as well knock back a few Jagermeisters, unplug the autocue, and just sit there dumbly repeating whichever reality-warping meme the far right wants to go viral this week. What's that? Obama is Gargamel and he's killing all the Smurfs? Sod it. Whatever. Roll titles.
"Ground Zero mosque'? The reality is less provocative...
by Charlie Brooker
Things seem awfully heated in America right now; so heated you could probably toast a marshmallow by jabbing it on a stick and holding it toward the Atlantic. Millions are hopping mad over the news that a bunch of triumphalist Muslim extremists are about to build a "victory mosque" slap bang in the middle of Ground Zero.
The planned "ultra-mosque" will be a staggering 5,600ft tall – more than five times higher than the tallest building on Earth – and will be capped with an immense dome of highly-polished solid gold, carefully positioned to bounce sunlight directly toward the pavement, where it will blind pedestrians and fry small dogs. The main structure will be delimited by 600 minarets, each shaped like an upraised middle finger, and housing a powerful amplifier: when synchronised, their combined sonic might will be capable of relaying the muezzin's call to prayer at such deafening volume, it will be clearly audible in the Afghan mountains, where thousands of terrorists are poised to celebrate by running around with scarves over their faces, firing AK-47s into the sky and yelling whatever the foreign word for "victory" is.
I'm exaggerating. But I'm only exaggerating a tad more than some of the professional exaggerators who initially raised objections to the "Ground Zero mosque". They keep calling it the "Ground Zero mosque", incidentally, because it's a catchy title that paints a powerful image – specifically, the image of a mosque at Ground Zero.
When I heard about it – in passing, in a soundbite – I figured it was a US example of the sort of inanely confrontational fantasy scheme Anjem Choudary might issue a press release about if he fancied winding up the tabloids for the 900th time this year. I was wrong. The "Ground Zero mosque" is a genuine proposal, but it's slightly less provocative than its critics' nickname makes it sound. For one thing, it's not at Ground Zero. Also, it isn't a mosque.
Wait, it gets duller. It's not being built by extremists either. Cordoba House, as it's known, is a proposed Islamic cultural centre, which, in addition to a prayer room, will include a basketball court, restaurant, and swimming pool. Its aim is to improve inter-faith relations. It'll probably also have comfy chairs and people who smile at you when you walk in, the monsters.
To get to the Cordoba Centre from Ground Zero, you'd have to walk in the opposite direction for two blocks, before turning a corner and walking a bit more. The journey should take roughly two minutes, or possibly slightly longer if you're heading an angry mob who can't hear your directions over the sound of their own enraged bellowing.
Perhaps spatial reality functions differently on the other side of the Atlantic, but here in London, something that is "two minutes' walk and round a corner" from something else isn't actually "in" the same place at all. I once had a poo in a pub about two minutes' walk from Buckingham Palace. I was not subsequently arrested and charged with crapping directly onto the Queen's pillow. That's how "distance" works in Britain. It's also how distance works in America, of course, but some people are currently pretending it doesn't, for daft political ends.
New York being a densely populated city, there are lots of other buildings and businesses within two blocks of Ground Zero, including a McDonald's and a Burger King, neither of which has yet been accused of serving milkshakes and fries on hallowed ground. Regardless, for the opponents of Cordoba House, two blocks is too close, period. Frustratingly, they haven't produced a map pinpointing precisely how close is OK.
That's literally all I'd ask them in an interview. I'd stand there pointing at a map of the city. Would it be offensive here? What about here? Or how about way over there? And when they finally picked a suitable spot, I'd ask them to draw it on the map, sketching out roughly how big it should be, and how many windows it's allowed to have. Then I'd hand them a colour swatch and ask them to decide on a colour for the lobby carpet. And the conversation would continue in this vein until everyone in the room was in tears. Myself included.
That hasn't happened. Instead, 70% of Americans are opposed to the "Ground Zero mosque", doubtless in many cases because they've been led to believe it literally is a mosque at Ground Zero. And if not . . . well, it must be something significant. Otherwise why would all these pundits be so angry about it? And why would anyone in the media listen to them with a straight face?
According to a recent poll, one in five Americans believes Barack Obama is a Muslim, even though he isn't. A quarter of those who believe he's a Muslim also claimed he talks about his faith too much. Americans aren't dumb. Clearly these particular Americans have either gone insane or been seriously misled. Where are they getting their information?
Sixty per cent said they learned it from the media. Which means it's time for the media to give up.
Seriously, broadcasters, journalists: just give up now. Because either you're making things worse, or no one's paying attention anyway. May as well knock back a few Jagermeisters, unplug the autocue, and just sit there dumbly repeating whichever reality-warping meme the far right wants to go viral this week. What's that? Obama is Gargamel and he's killing all the Smurfs? Sod it. Whatever. Roll titles.
Aug 11, 2010
What did you say?
So, if you know me you know that I'm nearly deaf in my left ear. That would be the primary reason that I always try to walk on your right side, and I might ask you to repeat things a few times. I had a slew of ear infections in my teens that did major damage on the inner workings of my ear. I'm supposed to have some bones in there, but they're long gone. I even went through a surgery to put prosthetics back in, but my body didn't care for that plan... and rejected them... and other crap is wrong in there as well that I don't want to bore you with. Anyways, all this has resulted in hearing loss around 75 - 80%.
Good news, my hearing nerves aren't damaged like we previously thought. I have the potential to hear, sound just isn't making it past all the scar tissue in my ear from past surgeries, and since the bones are missing the sounds isn't being transferred to the nerves. I went in yesterday to discuss some options with my ENT, and long story short...I have four options, three of which could allow me to reach normal hearing level in my left ear.
1. Leave it alone, and continue to deal. (I like this option! I've been living an okay life up until this point. I kind of look at my hearing loss like someone might look at a scar on their face. Their quality of life is not really that terrible, but it bothers them even though others might not even notice it till you point it out.)
2. Get a hearing aid. The audiologist isn't thinking this will help too terribly much, since I have so much scar tissue in my ear it's blocking sound going through. Piping in louder sound will just mean louder muffly sounds being heard.
3. Cochlear Implant..ie..Drill a hole into the side of my head and screw in a state of the art hearing aid that accesses the inner nerves instead of just amplifying sound. It's about the size of a bite sized candy bar, and it would be there semi permanently. We did a test run of this, where we just held the box on the side of my head. It was the creepiest feeling I've ever felt. I could hear, but it felt like I had a bad TV reception inside my head. It wasn't natural sounding, and it made me feel dizzy and off balance. I can't really describe it. I didn't like it at all. Plus everything was on a strange delay. I would hear normal sounds in my right ear then hear weird, loud, robotish sounds through my left, on a delay. I'm not thinking I'm interested in this. I mean, I know it's an amazing breakthrough in science, but I don't think I'm hearing that poorly to justify it. I don't know.
4. Surgery to clean up the scar tissue and replace the bones...again... I've tried this before, and my body said hell to the no. The doctors believe they could scoop the scar tissue out, cut under my eardrum and try attaching a new prosthetic bone into my ear that might prove to be lasting. Though the technology has changed, this still makes me nervous. There is no guarantee how my body might react to another prosthetic being put in. I'm not sure how I really feel about going under for something they can't 100% guarantee will last. Realistically, I understand nothing is guaranteed to work, but it seems like I've have a pretty crappy run on this strategy up until this point.
Bah, I don't know. I have another evaluation next Tuesday. I'm getting a CT scan to see how much bone I have left in my ear, and having another pow wow with the doctors. I have the head of Barnes ear surgery, my ENT, and the head of the audiology department evaluating my situation. I was proded for 2 1/2 hours by them and a bunch of students and now I just feel ill. It makes me feel so sea sick when people mess with my ears. They get all excited about the strangeness that is my ear. I just get barfy from being poked.
I'm not making any decisions now, but it does give me something to think about. I could potential improve my quality of life. But I'm not sure the risks justify the benefits. We'll see.
Good news, my hearing nerves aren't damaged like we previously thought. I have the potential to hear, sound just isn't making it past all the scar tissue in my ear from past surgeries, and since the bones are missing the sounds isn't being transferred to the nerves. I went in yesterday to discuss some options with my ENT, and long story short...I have four options, three of which could allow me to reach normal hearing level in my left ear.
1. Leave it alone, and continue to deal. (I like this option! I've been living an okay life up until this point. I kind of look at my hearing loss like someone might look at a scar on their face. Their quality of life is not really that terrible, but it bothers them even though others might not even notice it till you point it out.)
2. Get a hearing aid. The audiologist isn't thinking this will help too terribly much, since I have so much scar tissue in my ear it's blocking sound going through. Piping in louder sound will just mean louder muffly sounds being heard.
3. Cochlear Implant..ie..Drill a hole into the side of my head and screw in a state of the art hearing aid that accesses the inner nerves instead of just amplifying sound. It's about the size of a bite sized candy bar, and it would be there semi permanently. We did a test run of this, where we just held the box on the side of my head. It was the creepiest feeling I've ever felt. I could hear, but it felt like I had a bad TV reception inside my head. It wasn't natural sounding, and it made me feel dizzy and off balance. I can't really describe it. I didn't like it at all. Plus everything was on a strange delay. I would hear normal sounds in my right ear then hear weird, loud, robotish sounds through my left, on a delay. I'm not thinking I'm interested in this. I mean, I know it's an amazing breakthrough in science, but I don't think I'm hearing that poorly to justify it. I don't know.
4. Surgery to clean up the scar tissue and replace the bones...again... I've tried this before, and my body said hell to the no. The doctors believe they could scoop the scar tissue out, cut under my eardrum and try attaching a new prosthetic bone into my ear that might prove to be lasting. Though the technology has changed, this still makes me nervous. There is no guarantee how my body might react to another prosthetic being put in. I'm not sure how I really feel about going under for something they can't 100% guarantee will last. Realistically, I understand nothing is guaranteed to work, but it seems like I've have a pretty crappy run on this strategy up until this point.
Bah, I don't know. I have another evaluation next Tuesday. I'm getting a CT scan to see how much bone I have left in my ear, and having another pow wow with the doctors. I have the head of Barnes ear surgery, my ENT, and the head of the audiology department evaluating my situation. I was proded for 2 1/2 hours by them and a bunch of students and now I just feel ill. It makes me feel so sea sick when people mess with my ears. They get all excited about the strangeness that is my ear. I just get barfy from being poked.
I'm not making any decisions now, but it does give me something to think about. I could potential improve my quality of life. But I'm not sure the risks justify the benefits. We'll see.
Aug 9, 2010
I'm Back.
I'm not new and improved or anything, but I'm still breathing...so that's a plus.
I just spend two weeks in Florida, and on a whim we took a breathtaking drive through the Smokey Mountains on our way back home. Man-child is back at work today and I miss him fiercely.
I have the biggest crush on Clayton, Georgia and I really would like to live there.
Thinking about moving somewhere new makes me happy. I like adventures.
My dogs are in good health, the man-child and I are thriving, and I made the best pulled pork known to man last night. I didn't think I could grill, till I started grilling. Who knew?
My grandmother had a mini-stroke. She's okay now, but it scared me when it happened.
School starts in two weeks. For whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to take on more than I did last semester. If I end up killing someone due to stress, you'll bail me out right, internet?
I started riding a bike. I like it. Better yet, my butt is starting to get used to it. The first few times I rode a bike I thought my butt was never going to forgive me. I couldn't sit right for days. Is this just me?
I grew new things in my garden this summer. We had a haul of blackberries, but our tomatoes are a bit lackluster this year. They keep falling off the vine before they're ripe. Fuckers. I also planted lavender, snap peas, and lettuce this year. They were delicious.
I just spend two weeks in Florida, and on a whim we took a breathtaking drive through the Smokey Mountains on our way back home. Man-child is back at work today and I miss him fiercely.
I have the biggest crush on Clayton, Georgia and I really would like to live there.
Thinking about moving somewhere new makes me happy. I like adventures.
My dogs are in good health, the man-child and I are thriving, and I made the best pulled pork known to man last night. I didn't think I could grill, till I started grilling. Who knew?
My grandmother had a mini-stroke. She's okay now, but it scared me when it happened.
School starts in two weeks. For whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to take on more than I did last semester. If I end up killing someone due to stress, you'll bail me out right, internet?
I started riding a bike. I like it. Better yet, my butt is starting to get used to it. The first few times I rode a bike I thought my butt was never going to forgive me. I couldn't sit right for days. Is this just me?
I grew new things in my garden this summer. We had a haul of blackberries, but our tomatoes are a bit lackluster this year. They keep falling off the vine before they're ripe. Fuckers. I also planted lavender, snap peas, and lettuce this year. They were delicious.
I took a very small amount of pictures on my trip, and they're all from my phone. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I always take a ton of pictures with the intent of printing them all out and hanging them on the wall. I never do this so I'm not sure why I keep taking pictures. See, we're all caught up. Now enjoy the grainy photos.
Apr 16, 2010
Kitteh?
*Knock knock knock*
me: Hello cute little neighbor kid... what do you need?
me: Oh, you found helpless tiny animal that needs to be saved? Oh, but I don't like cats...
me: No, no thank you... I don't need to hold it.
me: Really, that's okay... no... I....well hello there little guy.
kitteh: meowowowowowwwwhateyouandlifeandgodandeverything
me (forgetting kettehs have a pointy side): Ouch! Fuck! Pointy!
*examines scratch marks on chest*
*gives kitteh a dirty look*
kitteh: meowwowowwwwi'mpartninjaandwillshankyoubitch
me (because obviously I have half crazy somewhere in my family): Well... if whatsherface doesn't want it, we'll take it...
Brett: What is that noise?
*holds kitteh up*
Brett: well, that's adorable. Don't forget it's pointy.
Neighbor kids took kitteh to whatsherfaces mother's cousin house who is twice removed and (for all I know) has exactly that many teeth... Turns out she wanted the angry little thing, and I was spared from my temporary lapse in sanity. Whew.
me: Hello cute little neighbor kid... what do you need?
me: Oh, you found helpless tiny animal that needs to be saved? Oh, but I don't like cats...
me: No, no thank you... I don't need to hold it.
me: Really, that's okay... no... I....well hello there little guy.
kitteh: meowowowowowwwwhateyouandlifeandgodandeverything
me (forgetting kettehs have a pointy side): Ouch! Fuck! Pointy!
*examines scratch marks on chest*
*gives kitteh a dirty look*
kitteh: meowwowowwwwi'mpartninjaandwillshankyoubitch
me (because obviously I have half crazy somewhere in my family): Well... if whatsherface doesn't want it, we'll take it...
Brett: What is that noise?
*holds kitteh up*
Brett: well, that's adorable. Don't forget it's pointy.
Neighbor kids took kitteh to whatsherfaces mother's cousin house who is twice removed and (for all I know) has exactly that many teeth... Turns out she wanted the angry little thing, and I was spared from my temporary lapse in sanity. Whew.
Feb 28, 2010
The Facebook
Oh Facebook. How I love thee. Let me count the ways.
1. Endless entertainment from notsoclose friends having death match fights with significant others / friends / baby mamas. Spelling errors are an added bonus.
2. Even more entertainment from much loved family members that know just enough about computers to be considered 'dangerous.' Resulting phone calls from the older family members that relay said drama that happened on “the facebook” are just cherries on the cake, man.
3. Pictures. Lots of pictures. Though I'll be the first to admit how petty it is, there is a small part of me that loves seeing people that were uppity in high school that are now train wrecks in their mid twenties. Heh.
4. Cowbells. Being silly I put that I "needs more cowbell" as my facebook status a while back. A week later, a mysterious cowbell shows up on my doorstep. Maybe next time I should put "needs more cash" or "needs bigger boobs." The mystery of the cowbell still hasn't been solved. Fess up, you!
5. People that forget that every single one of their 300 + friends can see their pictures, status updates, racist remarks, and conspiracy theories…
6. Stalking. That's right, I said it. There are a few people that I'm really really interested in for whatever reason, but only want to be interested in them at a distance. Facebook makes this possible without making me look crazy. For the most part.
1. Endless entertainment from notsoclose friends having death match fights with significant others / friends / baby mamas. Spelling errors are an added bonus.
2. Even more entertainment from much loved family members that know just enough about computers to be considered 'dangerous.' Resulting phone calls from the older family members that relay said drama that happened on “the facebook” are just cherries on the cake, man.
3. Pictures. Lots of pictures. Though I'll be the first to admit how petty it is, there is a small part of me that loves seeing people that were uppity in high school that are now train wrecks in their mid twenties. Heh.
4. Cowbells. Being silly I put that I "needs more cowbell" as my facebook status a while back. A week later, a mysterious cowbell shows up on my doorstep. Maybe next time I should put "needs more cash" or "needs bigger boobs." The mystery of the cowbell still hasn't been solved. Fess up, you!
5. People that forget that every single one of their 300 + friends can see their pictures, status updates, racist remarks, and conspiracy theories…
6. Stalking. That's right, I said it. There are a few people that I'm really really interested in for whatever reason, but only want to be interested in them at a distance. Facebook makes this possible without making me look crazy. For the most part.
Facebook Fails
Dec 21, 2009
UMSL vs Webster
I'm not going to Webster this January. I lied. Instead I am going to UMSL. The reasons why are many, and overall I am happy about my decision. To make me feel a bit 'happier' with all of this I'm going to outline pros and cons vs Webster and UMSL.
Webster Pros - - -
Intellectually I think I would have been a good fit. Small classes in a liberal arts college was exactly what I was looking for. There was something very charming to me when it came to Webster, before I even thought people needed to go to college I can remember driving past it and thinking that there was something prestigious about Webster. I loved the old buildings, the small student population, and the location location location.
Webster Cons - - -
The cost. I was prepared to pay the price of Webster when I was under the impression that I was getting a superb education. But when I hear Webster's own advisors tell me their science department is "subpar compared to most local high schools" I just couldn’t justify spending 25 K there anymore...and while we're talking advising let me tell you something. Webster's sucks, hard. Their advisors are not real advisors, as I found out the hard way. They're professors that just lend a helping hand. They have less of an understanding of requirements than I do, and their advice differs between person to person on things like which classes can be applied to your degree, and how long it will take you to graduate. They lost my transcripts several times, getting anyone to follow up with you was a struggle, and I just had an overall feeling of sloppiness when dealing with them. Also, classes were dropped willy-nilly, and a lot of the required classes that I needed were only offered every other semester, which was a huge deal in how long it would take me to graduate. Also, they really made me feel kind of shitty when it for transferring from a community college. One of my advisors didn't want to accept a class that was transferable from my transcripts because, well, I took it at STLCC…
UMSL Pros - - -
Cheaper, like half as much as I was planning to spend at Webster. They're a large university with a lot of opportunity to get a really decent education. I loved all of my advisors; everyone was extraordinarily helpful and willing to show me exactly where I needed to go and what I needed to do. They worked some real magic to get me in as quick as they did, and a lot of people bent over backwards for me. I recognized the gesture and was thankful for it. I really felt like they cared about my education, and cared about working with me. I know they get paid to do that, but that is a large part why they do their job so well. They have paid advisors that know their department’s degree’s and know what it is they’re talking about. It seemed like UMSL is way better equipped to deal with someone that is not an A-typical student. The only thing I missed out on were quite a few of the scholarships that I would have been eligible for since I was enrolling so late, but my Biology advisor is trying to work some voodo on that for me to see if I can squeeze into any. He was thrilled to have me in his program and had nothing but compliments for me when he saw my GPA and some of the professors I’ve had at STLCC.
UMSL Cons - - -
So. Far. Away. It's a 45 minute drive on a good day, and OMD the campus is HUGE. Some of my classes will have more students than I graduated from high school with. I know I'll get the hang of it but I feel a little overwhelmed with how big everything is there. Also, when I have a few hours down time between classes, I’m going to be stuck on campus. There will be no driving home to let my dogs out and eat and unwind. And this is pretentious of me, I know, and I’m kind of ashamed to write it…. but while I was at STLCC I met a lot of people that were transferring to UMSL and I would look at them and think to myself… I do not want to be them. They were just caricatures of college students, and I thought them to be exasperating and simple. They weren’t there to learn, they were there to try and have sex and scrape by with the lowest GPA possible to keep from getting expelled. I think that has been my biggest hold up with UMSL when it comes down to it. I don't want to be that person that is going to UMSL, so I’ll have to be that other person that is going to UMSL.
So, now that I've had a few days to chew on my decision, I'm feeling good about it. I'm going to get out of UMSL what it is I put into it, and I have really high expectations for myself. I think I made the right choice in switching from a major in math to a major in science as well. (for those of you that didn’t know) Though I love math, I think I would be sick of it in 5 -10 years, whereas with science thing are always new and changing. Plus, planning math lessons vs planning science lessons....well...there is really no comparison
…oh and the best part about UMSL…they don’t start classes till the 19th! Whee!
Webster Pros - - -
Intellectually I think I would have been a good fit. Small classes in a liberal arts college was exactly what I was looking for. There was something very charming to me when it came to Webster, before I even thought people needed to go to college I can remember driving past it and thinking that there was something prestigious about Webster. I loved the old buildings, the small student population, and the location location location.
Webster Cons - - -
The cost. I was prepared to pay the price of Webster when I was under the impression that I was getting a superb education. But when I hear Webster's own advisors tell me their science department is "subpar compared to most local high schools" I just couldn’t justify spending 25 K there anymore...and while we're talking advising let me tell you something. Webster's sucks, hard. Their advisors are not real advisors, as I found out the hard way. They're professors that just lend a helping hand. They have less of an understanding of requirements than I do, and their advice differs between person to person on things like which classes can be applied to your degree, and how long it will take you to graduate. They lost my transcripts several times, getting anyone to follow up with you was a struggle, and I just had an overall feeling of sloppiness when dealing with them. Also, classes were dropped willy-nilly, and a lot of the required classes that I needed were only offered every other semester, which was a huge deal in how long it would take me to graduate. Also, they really made me feel kind of shitty when it for transferring from a community college. One of my advisors didn't want to accept a class that was transferable from my transcripts because, well, I took it at STLCC…
UMSL Pros - - -
Cheaper, like half as much as I was planning to spend at Webster. They're a large university with a lot of opportunity to get a really decent education. I loved all of my advisors; everyone was extraordinarily helpful and willing to show me exactly where I needed to go and what I needed to do. They worked some real magic to get me in as quick as they did, and a lot of people bent over backwards for me. I recognized the gesture and was thankful for it. I really felt like they cared about my education, and cared about working with me. I know they get paid to do that, but that is a large part why they do their job so well. They have paid advisors that know their department’s degree’s and know what it is they’re talking about. It seemed like UMSL is way better equipped to deal with someone that is not an A-typical student. The only thing I missed out on were quite a few of the scholarships that I would have been eligible for since I was enrolling so late, but my Biology advisor is trying to work some voodo on that for me to see if I can squeeze into any. He was thrilled to have me in his program and had nothing but compliments for me when he saw my GPA and some of the professors I’ve had at STLCC.
UMSL Cons - - -
So. Far. Away. It's a 45 minute drive on a good day, and OMD the campus is HUGE. Some of my classes will have more students than I graduated from high school with. I know I'll get the hang of it but I feel a little overwhelmed with how big everything is there. Also, when I have a few hours down time between classes, I’m going to be stuck on campus. There will be no driving home to let my dogs out and eat and unwind. And this is pretentious of me, I know, and I’m kind of ashamed to write it…. but while I was at STLCC I met a lot of people that were transferring to UMSL and I would look at them and think to myself… I do not want to be them. They were just caricatures of college students, and I thought them to be exasperating and simple. They weren’t there to learn, they were there to try and have sex and scrape by with the lowest GPA possible to keep from getting expelled. I think that has been my biggest hold up with UMSL when it comes down to it. I don't want to be that person that is going to UMSL, so I’ll have to be that other person that is going to UMSL.
So, now that I've had a few days to chew on my decision, I'm feeling good about it. I'm going to get out of UMSL what it is I put into it, and I have really high expectations for myself. I think I made the right choice in switching from a major in math to a major in science as well. (for those of you that didn’t know) Though I love math, I think I would be sick of it in 5 -10 years, whereas with science thing are always new and changing. Plus, planning math lessons vs planning science lessons....well...there is really no comparison
…oh and the best part about UMSL…they don’t start classes till the 19th! Whee!
Dec 11, 2009
Yippie!
Today, I graduate from STLCC with my Associates of Arts in Teaching. I have a big exit interview that I have to undergo with the head of the educational department, and then I'll be free! Well, at least until January 11th, when I'll be starting Webster. Wheee, I love change! There is something deeply satisfying in shaking things up a bit in life and taking on new challenges.
Between graduating, having our 3rd annual friendmas this weekend(including our new and wonderful friends, the Elbows), the wiener wonderland holiday partay (up to 60 people and many more wieners coming), 24 hours of Christmas music (Brett has been ready to murder me since Oct), a fabulous husband (minus his awful taste in holiday music), and my herd of long dogs, and I'm feeling pretty good about life.
Oh, and for those of you with a long dog owner on your christmas list I just had to share this one thing. Check out this adorable bracelet you can order from Sky Mall.
Between graduating, having our 3rd annual friendmas this weekend(including our new and wonderful friends, the Elbows), the wiener wonderland holiday partay (up to 60 people and many more wieners coming), 24 hours of Christmas music (Brett has been ready to murder me since Oct), a fabulous husband (minus his awful taste in holiday music), and my herd of long dogs, and I'm feeling pretty good about life.
Oh, and for those of you with a long dog owner on your christmas list I just had to share this one thing. Check out this adorable bracelet you can order from Sky Mall.
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