In spite of my love of movies, celebrities, fashion and E! anchors interacting awkwardly with famous people, I do not, in fact, love awards shows. I find they usually go on too long and they are one event for which I am okay just looking up the score later. No, it's not clear why award shows fall into this category and Presidential debates do not. But so it goes.
However, having watched almost all of the movies represented at the Oscars this year, I was eager to see who the winners and losers were, and, of course, discuss them with people. Turns out one of my classmates has pretty much exact opposite taste in movies than me. He loved Hugo; I thought it was pretentious. He hated The Artist; I thought it was brilliant. And on we went. One that I was particularly surprised by was his strong dislike for Midnight in Paris. He said he found it cheesy, misogynistic and pedantic. I granted him the misogynistic piece - I'm beginning to think Woody Allen used up all of his ability to write an interesting female character in one go with that Annie Hall lady - but the rest?! No no no.
Maybe you had to have been a very particular kind of literature nerd to enjoy that movie - as in, you don't just love reading, you were in fact the kid who would read a book before bed and then could not stop thinking about how much you wish lived in that book. You have thought to yourself, "I'm almost positive Jane Austen didn't marry because she created Mr. Darcy and then there was just nowhere to go from there." (Hypothetically. Someone could have thought that. I would imagine.)
Because, yes, I was that particular kind of book geek, and I felt that Woody Allen must be one, too. Because the way he imagined diving into those worlds, it was so picture perfect the way all of us book geeks have imagined our heavens looking.
I grew up reading Enid Blyton. In particular, she wrote all these books about girls at boarding school, taking them from Form 1 to Form 6. It was like pre-Harry Potter, minus the magic, with a lot more field hockey. And tinned sardines. Anyway, when I finished reading the Malory Towers series, I remember crying myself to sleep - it was as if, in finishing the series and realizing there were no more to be read, it only then became official that I would not, in fact, be going from Meiners Oaks Elementary straight to Malory Towers in Cornwall. And up to that point, that was more or less the plan. Even though I hated being away from my parents, field hockey, and most definitely tinned sardines.
Somehow I feel like Woody had some of those nights, too. So I think I'm in good company.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Home Schooling
There was a pretty large homeschooling contingent at my undergrad. One of the features of going to a Christian institution. It wasn't necessarily a good or bad thing but...you could definitely tell who the homeschool kids were. Voice just a little too loud? Clothes just a little...off? There's a reason. Now, I should say, a chunk of my own family homeschools, with great success, and I also know some other people personally who came out of homeschooling well-adjusted, happy, super smart and generally lovely people. But someone just recently posted this link on my facebook, which lays out the top 12 reasons to homeschool. I think almost all of them are more good guidelines for how public schools need to adapt than anything else. And some are just wrong. So now, given my love of lists and public education, I am going to go through them.
1. Learning is customized not standardized
My goodness why is this not true everywhere? As Rick Hess has pointed out, the utopian worldview of edu-folks has led to "a 'differentiated instruction' community which offers a strategy of reform predicated on the notion that, if every teacher is exquisitely trained and does everything just right, it's possible to effectively teach children of highly variable achievement levels together in a single classroom." As he (I think) rightly points out, this is a pipe dream. BUT that doesn't mean that every child should not be receiving an education that is tailored to their levels of ability. It just means we need to stop thinking about it in a single-teacher-30-student model.
2. Associate with those you enjoy rather than those who share your birth year
Again, there is no reason why we structure schools the way we do, based on birth year alone. Social promotion has done no favours for urban schools, and actually leads to some of the problems in item (1). However, this is also a point where I fundamentally disagree with the list. One of the things the author states as an advantage for home school is that, "At home children can choose to be with those whose company they enjoy."
This is great for them. Until they leave their bubble and oh wow most of us have to spend large chunks of every day with people whose company we do not in the least enjoy. Or even just people we could take or leave. Dealing with these people is a skill one should absolutely develop, and however homeschool parents may think they are replicating it with their own children (church, play groups, homeschool groups, etc) there is just nothing to replace being stuck in a room with someone you don't care for for 6-8 straight hours. Welcome to life.
3. Freedom to learn with their tools
Again, I wish this were true in public schools. But fortunately, I think this one is slowly changing. As we learn more about mobile technology, more districts are incorporating laptops, cell phones and tablets into their curricula. Also, an advantage of learning about these tools in a school setting is that you encounter a variety of views about the use of them - some teachers will want them in every class, others will want them put away immediately. Hey, it's almost like how in the real world, you will have some bosses who will check their blackberries 18 times per meeting and find it unprofessional of you not to answer emails at 8 PM, and other bosses who will demand everyone shut phones down as soon as a meeting starts. It's almost like school is a training ground for life or something, and dealing with many different kinds of people, who may or may not align with your own style, is part of the training.
4. Socialize with those who share your passions not just your zip code
See item (2). Almost exactly the same, except instead of "end social promotion", my point is "utilize the internet".
5. Real life measures are better than bubble tests
Okay, I can't respond to this one without just directly quoting the reasons the author gives for homeschooling being superior on this point:
"In school we measure students success with bubble tests and response to prompts. At home we measure success by what children accomplish that matters to them. Some teens like Leah Miller have developed their own personal success plan. She sets her goals and then assesses her success in meeting them."
First of all, excellent point on the bubbling. That is absolutely not how we should measure students, and we absolutely should have measures that are important to them and relevant to their future. But I'm not sure that a "personal success plan" is right either. Again, let's imagine, if we could, that school is some kind of training ground for real life. While if you work for Google, you might be allowed to imagine your own success and judge yourself on it, this is not the norm. In pretty much every other job, there are external goals and deadlines you have to meet, regardless of whether or not they match your "personal success plan". But I think probably homeschoolers do a better job of balancing the relevant/irrelevant goals than public schools do. We should fix that.
6. Don’t just read about doing stuff. Do stuff!
Maybe if certain people (homeschoolers love Republicans, by the by) stopped cutting off funding for public schools or demanding all funding go to increasing reading and math scores, public schools could do this, too.
7. Travel when you want
See item (6). Also, one of the points that the author makes is that often public school schedules don't make sense for family travel plans. There is no reason why public schools need to maintain an outdated schedule designed to aid the agricultural cycle.
8. You are more than a number
Here is the quote from the list: "In school the only things students have to show for their work are numbers and graphs known as report cards, transcripts, or data reports." Given that this list was written by a public school administrator, I have to ask...what on earth is she telling her teachers? That should absolutely not be all children have to show for their work. And I don't think it is, in the vast majority of schools, where the vast majority of teachers are competent and hard-working. If this administrator is seeing her students going home with only "report cards, transcripts or data reports", she should do something about that.
9. Do work you value
The vast majority of teachers work really hard to ensure that the work their students are doing is meaningful and valuable to them. Unfortunately, "accountability" for teachers has gotten translated to "test scores" and teachers are forced to do a whole lot of meaningless test prep. On this one, both parties are to blame. We have not figured out a really good way to hold teachers accountable. But fortunately, I think this one is coming along, as well. Denver is doing neat things, NYC schools have recently adopted a more equitable evaluation system that will allow teachers to do more than "teach to the test"...we're slowly figuring out how to do it.
I should note, the author of the list opens it up by saying, "Education reform is happening today, but it’s slow and often ineffective. Parents need to do what is in the best interest of their children, right now." So she sort of speaks to this point. However, getting actively involved in your child's education (finding out who the best teachers at your school are, checking their homework, contacting teachers if you feel your child needs enrichment, etc) can tap into great resources that are available at almost every school. It should also be noted that most homeschool parents are not pulling their kids out of inner-city schools. They are more likely to be whiter, higher-educated, higher-income and religious. Ie not Title I school material.
10. Independence is valued over dependence
This is starting to get a little repetitive, so I'll just say...same basic point. Public schools do need to work on having more independent, student-driven learning experiences. At the same time, getting used to accommodating the learning/working needs of others is part of life, and working toward other people's goals and deadlines is just a reality.
11. You don’t have to waste learning time with standardized tests
Overall, of course, I agree with this. See item (9). But the author says, "In school students and their teachers are spending a large percentage of their time preparing for tests and testing even though test have little to no role in real life. My last test was more than a decade ago. How about you?". Uh...sorry lady, my last "test" was yesterday. And no, not because I'm in school. Because "test" doesn't mean just standardized tests. It means performing in high pressure situations. I had to write a memo to send out to a whole department at work in less than an hour. I had to sit through a meeting and take notes and use those notes to sound like I knew what I was talking about with my boss. Standardized tests in their current form, unfortunately, don't have a whole lot to do with real life. But the process of performing on command is absolutely part of real life...unless maybe you're an administrator?
12. No more meaningless worksheets and reports
Amen amen. I think 90% of public school teachers would agree with you. Now, Ms. Administrator, if you could just take care of all the discipline issues in every classroom so that every teacher could concentrate on meaningful, engaging activities with his or her students, that would be great. Thanks.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
And Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming
Ok, after a few days of blog-detox post-challenge, I am ready to go back to writing. I will certainly not be posting every single day (nobody wants that) but I will, I hope, be posting much more regularly than I did pre-challenge. As in, I will be posting.
Today's post is also inspired by my classes, but in a much less rosy way. It has always confused me that professorship is viewed as the "pinnacle" of the teaching profession since, it would seem to me, it is in fact a totally different set of responsibilities and challenges. I thought about this quite often during my time in Newark, as I had a couple of friends who were pursuing Masters in English and were also teaching undergraduate courses. Sometimes they would try to commiserate. While I have the utmost sympathy for having to grade 20+ 15 page research papers, it is, in fact, nothing like managing a classroom of 20+ 7th graders. I'm not trying to place a value on which one is harder (the latter) or which one is less draining (the former). I'm just saying, they are totally different.
BUT if we are going to keep pretending like being a professor is the highest form of teaching, then here are some things I wish professors would learn from their "lesser" K-12 colleagues.
1. There are more ways to teach than a lecture. In your classroom, you have at least 3 different kinds of learners. Lecturing appeals to one of them. And the format of the lecture shouldn't be the same for each and every class - marching through your notes/outline is boring for you, and most likely boring for us, too.
2. Don't ask questions for your own benefit. Any K-12 teacher will tell you, doing "checks for understanding" should be to reinforce the student's understanding, not just to take your own lesson plan forward. One of my all-time professor pet-peeves is the "Let's play a fun mind-reading game!" problem. You know what I mean. When the professor asks a question like, "What do you think the most important element in this reading was?" and then proceeds to ignore, downplay or disagree with every answer until someone says the magic words. The magic words being whatever answer the professor already had in his or her head. That is a waste of everyone's time. As I learned in my 5 weeks of teacher preparation, questions should be to check for understanding, spur student reflection, or some combination. Maybe professors need a 5 week refresher, too.
3. Lessons should have measurable objectives. Professors of the world, your students can tell when you walk into class and you have absolutely no idea what you want to come out of the class or why, exactly, you even assigned the reading you did. It's annoying. It's a waste of time. It makes us all reflect on how much we're paying for tuition.
4. Grading should be transparent and easily understandable. This is especially true in a university setting, where the A versus A- distinction actually matters. It's unfair and frustrating to give little to no feedback and then assign an A-. Again, as I learned in my minuscule amount of pedagogical training, students should be able to articulate clearly and easily exactly why they earned the grade they did on any given assignment, and in the course or subject as a whole. The expectations and rubric should be so crystal clear that any disagreement can be solved by referencing those two things. I understand things get fuzzier as you move up in the academic spectrum. But the basic idea that grades shouldn't come out of the clear blue sky still holds, however old the students are.
5. Technology is a tool, not an end in itself. It's awesome that there's a smartboard in your room. If you know how to use it effectively, you totally should. But please PLEASE do not take 20 minutes of this class I paid for trying to figure out how to load your PowerPoint. Every time this happens in one of my classes, all I can think is, "you are so lucky you are teaching adults and not my kids in Newark - someone would definitely be in a fistfight by now."
Maybe that's how I can get some of these lessons across...start reacting like a 7th grader would.
Ok, first step: stop showering for a week. Work on my whine. See how many extra syllables I can squeeze into the phrase, "I have to go to the bathroo-oo-oo-oom. It's an emergency-y-y-y".
Today's post is also inspired by my classes, but in a much less rosy way. It has always confused me that professorship is viewed as the "pinnacle" of the teaching profession since, it would seem to me, it is in fact a totally different set of responsibilities and challenges. I thought about this quite often during my time in Newark, as I had a couple of friends who were pursuing Masters in English and were also teaching undergraduate courses. Sometimes they would try to commiserate. While I have the utmost sympathy for having to grade 20+ 15 page research papers, it is, in fact, nothing like managing a classroom of 20+ 7th graders. I'm not trying to place a value on which one is harder (the latter) or which one is less draining (the former). I'm just saying, they are totally different.
BUT if we are going to keep pretending like being a professor is the highest form of teaching, then here are some things I wish professors would learn from their "lesser" K-12 colleagues.
1. There are more ways to teach than a lecture. In your classroom, you have at least 3 different kinds of learners. Lecturing appeals to one of them. And the format of the lecture shouldn't be the same for each and every class - marching through your notes/outline is boring for you, and most likely boring for us, too.
2. Don't ask questions for your own benefit. Any K-12 teacher will tell you, doing "checks for understanding" should be to reinforce the student's understanding, not just to take your own lesson plan forward. One of my all-time professor pet-peeves is the "Let's play a fun mind-reading game!" problem. You know what I mean. When the professor asks a question like, "What do you think the most important element in this reading was?" and then proceeds to ignore, downplay or disagree with every answer until someone says the magic words. The magic words being whatever answer the professor already had in his or her head. That is a waste of everyone's time. As I learned in my 5 weeks of teacher preparation, questions should be to check for understanding, spur student reflection, or some combination. Maybe professors need a 5 week refresher, too.
3. Lessons should have measurable objectives. Professors of the world, your students can tell when you walk into class and you have absolutely no idea what you want to come out of the class or why, exactly, you even assigned the reading you did. It's annoying. It's a waste of time. It makes us all reflect on how much we're paying for tuition.
4. Grading should be transparent and easily understandable. This is especially true in a university setting, where the A versus A- distinction actually matters. It's unfair and frustrating to give little to no feedback and then assign an A-. Again, as I learned in my minuscule amount of pedagogical training, students should be able to articulate clearly and easily exactly why they earned the grade they did on any given assignment, and in the course or subject as a whole. The expectations and rubric should be so crystal clear that any disagreement can be solved by referencing those two things. I understand things get fuzzier as you move up in the academic spectrum. But the basic idea that grades shouldn't come out of the clear blue sky still holds, however old the students are.
5. Technology is a tool, not an end in itself. It's awesome that there's a smartboard in your room. If you know how to use it effectively, you totally should. But please PLEASE do not take 20 minutes of this class I paid for trying to figure out how to load your PowerPoint. Every time this happens in one of my classes, all I can think is, "you are so lucky you are teaching adults and not my kids in Newark - someone would definitely be in a fistfight by now."
Maybe that's how I can get some of these lessons across...start reacting like a 7th grader would.
Ok, first step: stop showering for a week. Work on my whine. See how many extra syllables I can squeeze into the phrase, "I have to go to the bathroo-oo-oo-oom. It's an emergency-y-y-y".
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Come Together...but Probably Not Right Now
Santorum won.
Santorum won.
Santorum won.
I don't know if I'm repeating that over and over to myself to make myself believe it, or in some sort of reverse-Wizard of Oz-type attempt to send myself to an alternative universe where it isn't true. Alas, I have no ruby slippers.
I've been going back and forth with people all day, trying to parse out whether this result is good for Romney, or Paul, or Obama, or none of the above. I'm really not sure. Colorado is the one that's really throwing me. Minnesota had crazy low turnout, Missouri didn't count, (except in the sense that spending $7 million of taxpayer money on a meaningless contest instead of schools or something else "counts"...) but Colorado. Colorado is supposed to be a reliable, bellweather-y type state, filled with Mormons. And Santorum got it. The other two I can justify as being good for Romney (breaking up the anti-Romney vote by drawing people away from Newt, making Romney look reasonable by comparison, etc.) but Mitt should have owned Colorado. He did actually spend some money there (though not as much as other places), Colorado is a bit more moderate and he was all over it in 2008. So this race just got interesting all over again.
So now on to the title of this post. Today in my Rivlin class, we talked about "core values" and polarization. First we made a list of core liberal vs. conservative values (with a sidebar for libertarians). In a class with 18 liberals and 1 conservative, this list was pretty amusing. I learned that apparently liberals are the ones who are for things like compassion, empathy, tolerance, and equality. And conservatives hate everyone and love the free market. Fortunately, although my professor is pretty far to the left, she makes a pointed effort to balance the discussion as much as possible. Even though one side is clearly wrong. She essentially made the case that most important policy issues involve a balancing of the two lists of values that we all hold dear (collective responsibility and personal responsibility; tolerance and justice for wrongdoing), rather than picking one side or the other.
But this is the problem I saw. One of the things on the list of "liberal" values was "Faith in experts/bureaucracy/government institutions", giving examples like the UN, climate change, czars etc. We talked about how liberals, even though they tend to favour personal freedom of choice for things like abortion and use of marijuana, also believe that it's right for the government to discourage overconsumption of sugar and cigarettes through heavy taxation and/or regulation. While these may seem in conflict, it is really a faith in experts and technocrats over individual choice if the evidence is strong enough. So then my professor said that she really believes that part of the way you solve gridlock and start working toward solution is to get everyone in the room to recognize and articulate the end goal, so that everyone can see we are working toward the same place, even if we want different roads to get there. The idea at that point is that you can get people to make a few compromises on the method because they are dedicated enough to achieving the overall mission.
In general, for most people, I buy this.
But.
If you have one side of the table holding lack of faith in experts and institutions as a core value, I just don't know how the discussion even gets started. For example, my mom and I watched this documentary called "Vaccine Wars" recently about the fight over mandated vaccines for children. In the interviews with the doctors and parents, it became clear they weren't even having the same discussion. The evidence is, quite simply, conclusive. If you accept a)the general rules of statistics (ie things like sample size (your 1/5/50 kids getting autism don't count as irrefutable evidence if there are tens of millions of kids with no symptoms and the other factors are fuzzy) and causal direction) and b) the expertise of institutions like the CDC and the NIH. Now once you accept the evidence...there isn't really an argument to be had. It's dangerous and stupid to not vaccinate your child. But if you don't accept things like huge studies with quality sample sizes and statistical controls as evidence, then there's really nothing to be done. It's unclear what would then count as evidence. And then...what? People on one side are wondering why we're even still having this argument (think climate change, regulating high fructose corn syrup, gun control), while the other side is demanding more "evidence" from institutions whose authority they are never going to accept anyway.
I'm getting frustrated just writing this.
Maybe this is why I work in education policy, where everything is fuzzy and nobody really knows if anything does or doesn't work for sure. Ah, the peace of uncertainty.
Santorum won.
Santorum won.
I don't know if I'm repeating that over and over to myself to make myself believe it, or in some sort of reverse-Wizard of Oz-type attempt to send myself to an alternative universe where it isn't true. Alas, I have no ruby slippers.
I've been going back and forth with people all day, trying to parse out whether this result is good for Romney, or Paul, or Obama, or none of the above. I'm really not sure. Colorado is the one that's really throwing me. Minnesota had crazy low turnout, Missouri didn't count, (except in the sense that spending $7 million of taxpayer money on a meaningless contest instead of schools or something else "counts"...) but Colorado. Colorado is supposed to be a reliable, bellweather-y type state, filled with Mormons. And Santorum got it. The other two I can justify as being good for Romney (breaking up the anti-Romney vote by drawing people away from Newt, making Romney look reasonable by comparison, etc.) but Mitt should have owned Colorado. He did actually spend some money there (though not as much as other places), Colorado is a bit more moderate and he was all over it in 2008. So this race just got interesting all over again.
So now on to the title of this post. Today in my Rivlin class, we talked about "core values" and polarization. First we made a list of core liberal vs. conservative values (with a sidebar for libertarians). In a class with 18 liberals and 1 conservative, this list was pretty amusing. I learned that apparently liberals are the ones who are for things like compassion, empathy, tolerance, and equality. And conservatives hate everyone and love the free market. Fortunately, although my professor is pretty far to the left, she makes a pointed effort to balance the discussion as much as possible. Even though one side is clearly wrong. She essentially made the case that most important policy issues involve a balancing of the two lists of values that we all hold dear (collective responsibility and personal responsibility; tolerance and justice for wrongdoing), rather than picking one side or the other.
But this is the problem I saw. One of the things on the list of "liberal" values was "Faith in experts/bureaucracy/government institutions", giving examples like the UN, climate change, czars etc. We talked about how liberals, even though they tend to favour personal freedom of choice for things like abortion and use of marijuana, also believe that it's right for the government to discourage overconsumption of sugar and cigarettes through heavy taxation and/or regulation. While these may seem in conflict, it is really a faith in experts and technocrats over individual choice if the evidence is strong enough. So then my professor said that she really believes that part of the way you solve gridlock and start working toward solution is to get everyone in the room to recognize and articulate the end goal, so that everyone can see we are working toward the same place, even if we want different roads to get there. The idea at that point is that you can get people to make a few compromises on the method because they are dedicated enough to achieving the overall mission.
In general, for most people, I buy this.
But.
If you have one side of the table holding lack of faith in experts and institutions as a core value, I just don't know how the discussion even gets started. For example, my mom and I watched this documentary called "Vaccine Wars" recently about the fight over mandated vaccines for children. In the interviews with the doctors and parents, it became clear they weren't even having the same discussion. The evidence is, quite simply, conclusive. If you accept a)the general rules of statistics (ie things like sample size (your 1/5/50 kids getting autism don't count as irrefutable evidence if there are tens of millions of kids with no symptoms and the other factors are fuzzy) and causal direction) and b) the expertise of institutions like the CDC and the NIH. Now once you accept the evidence...there isn't really an argument to be had. It's dangerous and stupid to not vaccinate your child. But if you don't accept things like huge studies with quality sample sizes and statistical controls as evidence, then there's really nothing to be done. It's unclear what would then count as evidence. And then...what? People on one side are wondering why we're even still having this argument (think climate change, regulating high fructose corn syrup, gun control), while the other side is demanding more "evidence" from institutions whose authority they are never going to accept anyway.
I'm getting frustrated just writing this.
Maybe this is why I work in education policy, where everything is fuzzy and nobody really knows if anything does or doesn't work for sure. Ah, the peace of uncertainty.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Caucus Coverage
Very quick entry to just inform everyone that if you don't watch CNN coverage of caucuses, you absolutely should. Watching the likes of Wolf and John King trying to squeeze a story out of a bunch of people in a gym contributing and counting their 20 votes is just hilarious. The zoom-ins on the counting, the break down vote by vote of who's winning, the interviews with Minnesota voters...you have to see it to believe it.
Monday, February 6, 2012
True Age Test
I remember for a while there was a little fad of "True Age" type IQ tests or physical tests or whatever that were supposed to tell you how old you really were, based on how long you could stand on one leg (thank you, Wii) or how fast you could answer questions. Those are all well and good, but here is how I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am a 90 year old woman on the inside.
1. I never remember anyone. Ever. Some friends and I have an incredibly awesome facebook group (it's secret and you can't be in it) in which we mostly bitch about how dumb other people are. Also, we are really mature. But anyway, a good portion of our posts are along the lines of, "Remember this person? Look at where they are now!"
I never remember who it is. Ever. I think maybe during high school I only saw my teachers and friends and whatever boy I was in love with at the time or something. But I remember no names or faces and if someone told me I was actually home schooled, I wouldn't have a whole lot of evidence to refute it. This is very related to Piece of Evidence #2.
2. The eras of my life are already getting blurred. I was listening to Marc Maron's podcast today, and he was talking about a recent visit to Boston, where he used to live, and how he kept running into people and not remembering if he knew them when he was in college, when he was older, when he was a kid, or what, and how at his age, he's gone through so many life stages that they all get put into one pot.
Apparently my age is already enough for me to do this. I recently saw someone on the street here in DC that I'm pretty sure I recognized, but didn't go up and talk to because I absolutely could not place if she was a California acquaintance, Texas, New York, DC...maybe the solution for me is to stop moving.
3. I don't like loud activities. The one exception to this is dancing. But other than that, my favourite things to do include reading, watching massive amounts of TV, jogging, listening to talk radio and podcasts, and shopping by myself with headphones (listening to talk radio and podcasts). I love love listening to music, but concerts...meh. People are so loud! With the yelling and the speakers! Also, get off my lawn!
4. I get sick all the time. Pretty sure any insurance company that actually evaluated my immune system would conclude I have the same expected costs as a senior citizen.
5. CNN tells me so. All of its ads are for erectile dysfunction, retirement plans, AARP auto insurance and mobility aids. Although they also seem to think there's a slim chance I'm just a Christian single looking for God's match for me/in the market for a fleet of airplanes. Little do they know, I'm a just a Wolf Blitzer fangirl.
1. I never remember anyone. Ever. Some friends and I have an incredibly awesome facebook group (it's secret and you can't be in it) in which we mostly bitch about how dumb other people are. Also, we are really mature. But anyway, a good portion of our posts are along the lines of, "Remember this person? Look at where they are now!"
I never remember who it is. Ever. I think maybe during high school I only saw my teachers and friends and whatever boy I was in love with at the time or something. But I remember no names or faces and if someone told me I was actually home schooled, I wouldn't have a whole lot of evidence to refute it. This is very related to Piece of Evidence #2.
2. The eras of my life are already getting blurred. I was listening to Marc Maron's podcast today, and he was talking about a recent visit to Boston, where he used to live, and how he kept running into people and not remembering if he knew them when he was in college, when he was older, when he was a kid, or what, and how at his age, he's gone through so many life stages that they all get put into one pot.
Apparently my age is already enough for me to do this. I recently saw someone on the street here in DC that I'm pretty sure I recognized, but didn't go up and talk to because I absolutely could not place if she was a California acquaintance, Texas, New York, DC...maybe the solution for me is to stop moving.
3. I don't like loud activities. The one exception to this is dancing. But other than that, my favourite things to do include reading, watching massive amounts of TV, jogging, listening to talk radio and podcasts, and shopping by myself with headphones (listening to talk radio and podcasts). I love love listening to music, but concerts...meh. People are so loud! With the yelling and the speakers! Also, get off my lawn!
4. I get sick all the time. Pretty sure any insurance company that actually evaluated my immune system would conclude I have the same expected costs as a senior citizen.
5. CNN tells me so. All of its ads are for erectile dysfunction, retirement plans, AARP auto insurance and mobility aids. Although they also seem to think there's a slim chance I'm just a Christian single looking for God's match for me/in the market for a fleet of airplanes. Little do they know, I'm a just a Wolf Blitzer fangirl.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Valentine's Day
In case anyone had missed all the store decorations, candy everywhere and guilt- and shame-inducing commercials, Valentine's Day is coming. Time to buy stuff.
I realize it is a trope for single girls to say they "hate Valentine's Day". I have to admit...I said this. Every Valentine's Day. For the first 19 years of my life. But for the past 5 years, I have been hate-free. And let me tell you why.
1. I finally actually researched the other meaning of V-day for February 14th. I remember at my high school there would be random girls talking about this celebration and handing out lollipops, but I didn't really process. Then, my freshman year in college, I started volunteering at a domestic violence shelter, and we organized an official V-day event. My sophomore year, I baked vagina cookies and handed them around to people, spreading the good news that February 14th is about more than heart-shaped everythings and cheesy cards.
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| A Love That Lasts Forever |
2. I got a long-term Valentine. Sophomore year, 5 of my girlfriends and I decided we were not waiting around for dates, and we went on wonderful dates with each other. My friend Lara and I drew each other's names and had quite possibly the best date of my life. We dressed up all fancy, went to dinner and then watched some horribly cheesy movie. That has become the tradition. Every year since then, at least one of us has been dating someone else (actually I think she's been dating someone else every year, and I've been dating someone else at least 2/5...) but we are always each other's Valentine. Last year and this year, we've been separated by half a country. But no matter! We skype and watch bad Netflix movies. As a side note, this kind of thing is probably what also made certain members of my family more or less convinced I was a lesbian. I guess I see where it might come from.
3. I decided to not let Hallmark determine my life. And I mean this in the opposite way of how bitter single girls usually mean it. Yes, Valentine's Day is something of an invented holiday. And yes, we do spend entirely too much money because someone tells us the time has come to be romantic. But really, almost every holiday was invented by someone, somewhere. There are super fundamentalist Christians who refuse to celebrate Christmas because it is not actually Jesus' birthday and the Romans just wanted to make it coincide with a pagan festival. I think this is ridiculous. It's a day we have arbitrarily chosen to celebrate the nativity and give each other fun presents and wear silly sweaters. I like all of those things, so I am going to celebrate the hell out of Christmas. If you've ever visited my house when I've had the chance to be part of decorating, you know this to be true. In the same way, February 14th is a day we've arbitrarily chosen to celebrate love and give each other candy and wear hearts and red and things. Red looks good on me, I love candy and I support people being in love. I will not let the fact that Hallmark makes a ridiculous profit deter me from celebrations.
4. February 15th. February 15th, chocolate suddenly becomes insanely cheap. And it is awesome.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Almost there
I have 7 days left on this challenge. And boy howdy am I glad to be almost done.
While I have learned a lot about my own writing style (I like lists, parentheticals and dashes, and I dislike asymmetrical lists, transitions and embedding other forms of media), I have also learned that one 30 day challenge is enough for a lifetime. Nobody needs to write about his or her life and thoughts this often. So it was a good exercise, but not one to be repeated.
In other news, my dad gave me this book for Christmas that's a book of daily inspirations. I have really, really been enjoying it. And if you know me at all, you know how unlikely that is - I'm pretty quick to find something like that cheesy and unappealing. But there was this one passage that really caught my eye, and has been sticking with me for the past few days. It reads as follows:
"Wouldn't it be nice if love were like a cafeteria line? What if you could look at the person with whom you live and select what you want and pass on what you don't? What if parents could do this with kids? "I'll take a plate of good grades and cute smiles, and I'm passing on the teenage identity crisis and tuition bills."[...]It would be easier. It would be neater. It would be painless and peaceful. But...it wouldn't be love. Love doesn't accept just a few things. Love is willing to accept all things."
I'm sure everyone struggles with this to a certain degree, but I think I might have an issue just a little bit more than most.
I'm a problem solver. My parents used to listen to Dr. Laura (before she went all crazy political) and I remember she said once that if you wanted to talk about your problems and get an answer, talk to your husband, and if you wanted to talk about your problems and just commiserate, talk to your girlfriends. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that she was at least into gender politics the whole time, as she clearly enjoyed defining what men and women do. But anyway. I apparently listen like a man. I like to come up with a solution for people's problems, and I don't really understand the appeal of talking about them without brainstorming possible next steps. This drives some of my friends crazy, I know, but I can't help it. Well, let me rephrase that. I can help it. But then I would be frustrated and I am way too selfish for that.
So what does this have to do with cafeteria line love? It means that I have a hard time not wanting to give up on people when they don't fix the things that I clearly see they need to fix. And oh my goodness, I am so glad my friends don't do the same for me. In fact, I'm realizing as I write this (also learning from this entry that I don't think a lot of things through until I write them out...) that a common thread among my closest friends is that I get frustrated with them for being so accepting of people, even when I think they need to get madder or cut more people off. I guess they're in my life to show me that that is not how love works. And I am very glad they are. Even if I don't always learn the lesson.
Although I'm also watching a lot of Homeland, and learning that ANYONE CAN BE A TERRORIST. So there's that.
While I have learned a lot about my own writing style (I like lists, parentheticals and dashes, and I dislike asymmetrical lists, transitions and embedding other forms of media), I have also learned that one 30 day challenge is enough for a lifetime. Nobody needs to write about his or her life and thoughts this often. So it was a good exercise, but not one to be repeated.
In other news, my dad gave me this book for Christmas that's a book of daily inspirations. I have really, really been enjoying it. And if you know me at all, you know how unlikely that is - I'm pretty quick to find something like that cheesy and unappealing. But there was this one passage that really caught my eye, and has been sticking with me for the past few days. It reads as follows:
"Wouldn't it be nice if love were like a cafeteria line? What if you could look at the person with whom you live and select what you want and pass on what you don't? What if parents could do this with kids? "I'll take a plate of good grades and cute smiles, and I'm passing on the teenage identity crisis and tuition bills."[...]It would be easier. It would be neater. It would be painless and peaceful. But...it wouldn't be love. Love doesn't accept just a few things. Love is willing to accept all things."
I'm sure everyone struggles with this to a certain degree, but I think I might have an issue just a little bit more than most.
I'm a problem solver. My parents used to listen to Dr. Laura (before she went all crazy political) and I remember she said once that if you wanted to talk about your problems and get an answer, talk to your husband, and if you wanted to talk about your problems and just commiserate, talk to your girlfriends. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that she was at least into gender politics the whole time, as she clearly enjoyed defining what men and women do. But anyway. I apparently listen like a man. I like to come up with a solution for people's problems, and I don't really understand the appeal of talking about them without brainstorming possible next steps. This drives some of my friends crazy, I know, but I can't help it. Well, let me rephrase that. I can help it. But then I would be frustrated and I am way too selfish for that.
So what does this have to do with cafeteria line love? It means that I have a hard time not wanting to give up on people when they don't fix the things that I clearly see they need to fix. And oh my goodness, I am so glad my friends don't do the same for me. In fact, I'm realizing as I write this (also learning from this entry that I don't think a lot of things through until I write them out...) that a common thread among my closest friends is that I get frustrated with them for being so accepting of people, even when I think they need to get madder or cut more people off. I guess they're in my life to show me that that is not how love works. And I am very glad they are. Even if I don't always learn the lesson.
Although I'm also watching a lot of Homeland, and learning that ANYONE CAN BE A TERRORIST. So there's that.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Groundhog Crazy
First of all, my apologies for being two days behind. I was at work for almost 12 straight hours on Tuesday, and then had class for 8 straight hours on Wednesday. My brain was a little fried.
News updates:
1. I am doing an absolutely terrible job of keeping in touch with everyone. I am so sorry, everyone. The upside is that I am almost done with school! And then I will be able to be a person again!
2. I ran my first actual regressions with my data for my thesis. The results were significant!! This is a huge relief. This is in spite of the fact that teachers never ever seem to want to just admit they don't like their job. They will complain about all the individual aspects of it, but getting them to just say, "Oh and yeah, this job is overall unsatisfying" is nearly impossible. This implies a variety of issues, but for me, who is trying to prove that administrator attitudes are linked to whether or not teachers are satified with their jobs, this is a particularly big problem.
3. We have had a weird couple days of spring time-y weather around these parts. It's been amazing except, as I mentioned before, I've been stuck inside pretty much all day every day. So I guess what I mean is, "I hear it's been amazing."
And now for why I titled this post about groundhogs. I heard on CNN this morning that the famous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, predicted 6 more weeks of winter. More interestingly, I also learned that this tradition raises millions and millions of dollars for the local town and all the hotels in the area have been completely sold out for this weekend for the past 5 months or something insane and people have traveled from all over the country to see this groundhog come out of its hole.
...
How are we in a recession?
I am never one to support austerity measures, but for the low levels at which the American public believes the economy to be improving and believes themselves to be economically healthy, we sure are willing to shell out for a groundhog. A groundhog who is not even that accurate. He's right 39% of the time...he would do better by random chance.
So I support all these people spending and fueling the economy of this Pennsylvania town. But then, please don't say the President has done nothing for the economy. You're paying a ridiculous amount of money to go see a rodent make an inaccurate prediction about weather patterns. That's a luxury if I've ever heard one.
Or, if your wallet really is hurting, flipping a coin will actually give you a more precise reading on the future. Plus you can keep the coin.
News updates:
1. I am doing an absolutely terrible job of keeping in touch with everyone. I am so sorry, everyone. The upside is that I am almost done with school! And then I will be able to be a person again!
2. I ran my first actual regressions with my data for my thesis. The results were significant!! This is a huge relief. This is in spite of the fact that teachers never ever seem to want to just admit they don't like their job. They will complain about all the individual aspects of it, but getting them to just say, "Oh and yeah, this job is overall unsatisfying" is nearly impossible. This implies a variety of issues, but for me, who is trying to prove that administrator attitudes are linked to whether or not teachers are satified with their jobs, this is a particularly big problem.
3. We have had a weird couple days of spring time-y weather around these parts. It's been amazing except, as I mentioned before, I've been stuck inside pretty much all day every day. So I guess what I mean is, "I hear it's been amazing."
And now for why I titled this post about groundhogs. I heard on CNN this morning that the famous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, predicted 6 more weeks of winter. More interestingly, I also learned that this tradition raises millions and millions of dollars for the local town and all the hotels in the area have been completely sold out for this weekend for the past 5 months or something insane and people have traveled from all over the country to see this groundhog come out of its hole.
...
How are we in a recession?
I am never one to support austerity measures, but for the low levels at which the American public believes the economy to be improving and believes themselves to be economically healthy, we sure are willing to shell out for a groundhog. A groundhog who is not even that accurate. He's right 39% of the time...he would do better by random chance.
So I support all these people spending and fueling the economy of this Pennsylvania town. But then, please don't say the President has done nothing for the economy. You're paying a ridiculous amount of money to go see a rodent make an inaccurate prediction about weather patterns. That's a luxury if I've ever heard one.
Or, if your wallet really is hurting, flipping a coin will actually give you a more precise reading on the future. Plus you can keep the coin.
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