Sunday, October 31, 2010
Tricky Treats
As it turns out I did not dress up for Halloween, and in spite of being surrounded by costumed people, often slutty, I felt much more comfortable unadorned. Though I did admire a group of slutty crayon girls, because I just generally don't associate the inanimate crayon with immodesty and it takes some creativity to skank up a kindergarten coloring device. So kudos to the slutty crayons.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Halloweener
I may have the opportunity to go to a party the weekend of Halloween. I was kind of excited about a party, but then it occurred to me that most people would wear costumes. I don't wear costumes. A couple weeks ago a friend of mine asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. I looked at her, perplexed. She said Halloween is so fun and last year she was an owl. I said I don't wear costumes. She asked why. Another friend this week also asked the same question when it came up again, because apparently everyone is obsessed with Halloween costumes, more even than Gary in third grade who planned his out beginning on Arbor Day. She said it's fun to dress up, be someone else for a day. I said that I'm still the same person even if I'm wearing a costume. She said I'm kind of not getting it. Then she asked if I've ever seen the show Bones.
Anyway, the prospect of going to a Halloween party got me thinking about costumes. Because I like the idea of thinking of them, just not wearing them. So my first idea was to be coral, extruding its guts. I love coral, and definitely respect an organism that launches its intestines outside of itself to digest things in its path. That would be a really good costume. According to my party escort, though, it is a dorky idea. Also according to him, women generally use Halloween as an excuse to toss the conventions of wardrobe modesty aside. So I guess slutty coral would be better.
So when that was shot down, I went back to the drawing board (in my mind, I didn't really draw anything). My next idea was more awesome. I'd be a person, with maybe a few more people attached to me (fake ones), all of them missing limbs or having bite marks in them. I'd be the Donner Party. This idea gave me an entire day of laughing randomly. Hilarious, if you ask me. Once again my buzzkill party escort said that was dorky in the extreme, and possibly obscure to the point of weird as well. And it might be hard to skank that one up, I mean pioneers were traditionally not very leg or cleavage baring. I'm picturing Ma Ingalls, calico gown resewn into a low cut, super short dress, sauntering sexily past Mr. Edwards who then gets punched in the throat by an irate and horny Pa. Slutty pioneer cannibal may not be a great costume after all.
In the end I will probably continue to adhere to my no costumes policy. I would feel like a douche muffin dressed up as someone else, especially slutty someone else. So I'll take the kids out in the neighborhood, have them hop from door to door gathering enough candy to bail out an entire bus full of hypoglycemics, and admire every one else's creativity. While looking exactly like me.
Anyway, the prospect of going to a Halloween party got me thinking about costumes. Because I like the idea of thinking of them, just not wearing them. So my first idea was to be coral, extruding its guts. I love coral, and definitely respect an organism that launches its intestines outside of itself to digest things in its path. That would be a really good costume. According to my party escort, though, it is a dorky idea. Also according to him, women generally use Halloween as an excuse to toss the conventions of wardrobe modesty aside. So I guess slutty coral would be better.
So when that was shot down, I went back to the drawing board (in my mind, I didn't really draw anything). My next idea was more awesome. I'd be a person, with maybe a few more people attached to me (fake ones), all of them missing limbs or having bite marks in them. I'd be the Donner Party. This idea gave me an entire day of laughing randomly. Hilarious, if you ask me. Once again my buzzkill party escort said that was dorky in the extreme, and possibly obscure to the point of weird as well. And it might be hard to skank that one up, I mean pioneers were traditionally not very leg or cleavage baring. I'm picturing Ma Ingalls, calico gown resewn into a low cut, super short dress, sauntering sexily past Mr. Edwards who then gets punched in the throat by an irate and horny Pa. Slutty pioneer cannibal may not be a great costume after all.
In the end I will probably continue to adhere to my no costumes policy. I would feel like a douche muffin dressed up as someone else, especially slutty someone else. So I'll take the kids out in the neighborhood, have them hop from door to door gathering enough candy to bail out an entire bus full of hypoglycemics, and admire every one else's creativity. While looking exactly like me.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Whine and Cheese
I generally try to stay away from the whining and complaining. Mainly because I find it unproductive and obnoxious. Also, it sucks. But I'd like to just take a little time here to bitch, because I'm feeling particularly negative about a certain aspect of my life. Keep in mind that I am from Minnesota, so add three quarts of hysteria and general emotional embellishment to the following rant.
Some people, who may or may not be my ex-husband, just have no perspective. And some of those same people, the ones who may or may not be my ex-husband, should really have it. I would think that telling people they have oat-cell carcinoma or raging tuberculosis all day would instill a certain awareness of the fleeting nature of life, but evidently there are those who remain unaffected by their forays into uglier parts of the human condition. Extreme narcissism provides an amazing shield to reality, it seems. And a severe and debilitating tendency to feel persecuted by events that actually just fall into the category of regular old daily living in addition to an inability to ascertain one's own contribution to the turns of the screw.
Another thing that sucks about some people is that they might have these really, truly amazing kids. That are fun and engaging, and generally no problem at all to be around. Who very much want more time with some people, and maybe even might like it if some people attended things like conferences and volleyball games. But! Alas! Other things are more compelling, like going out on a boat for the day, making money, and taking trips. It pains me. They deserve better.
One last thing that sucks about some people is that they are falling apart at the seams and there is very little I can do about it. Some people are never going to change, and probably don't deserve much sympathy. But for the sake of a long and warm association (until it was not, of course) and two of my favorite individuals on earth, I don't think the wisest choice is the best choice. I'll deal.
Some people, who may or may not be my ex-husband, just have no perspective. And some of those same people, the ones who may or may not be my ex-husband, should really have it. I would think that telling people they have oat-cell carcinoma or raging tuberculosis all day would instill a certain awareness of the fleeting nature of life, but evidently there are those who remain unaffected by their forays into uglier parts of the human condition. Extreme narcissism provides an amazing shield to reality, it seems. And a severe and debilitating tendency to feel persecuted by events that actually just fall into the category of regular old daily living in addition to an inability to ascertain one's own contribution to the turns of the screw.
Another thing that sucks about some people is that they might have these really, truly amazing kids. That are fun and engaging, and generally no problem at all to be around. Who very much want more time with some people, and maybe even might like it if some people attended things like conferences and volleyball games. But! Alas! Other things are more compelling, like going out on a boat for the day, making money, and taking trips. It pains me. They deserve better.
One last thing that sucks about some people is that they are falling apart at the seams and there is very little I can do about it. Some people are never going to change, and probably don't deserve much sympathy. But for the sake of a long and warm association (until it was not, of course) and two of my favorite individuals on earth, I don't think the wisest choice is the best choice. I'll deal.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Group Jerk
I'm on a roll, so why stop? Also I have some time left before class is over. One thing I am finding very trying this semester is the focus on group work in my health/science writing seminar. We get together in small groups for a portion of each class to either edit each other's work or do a brief exercise (for instance, convey a particular medical instruction to a universal audience without using words).
Here are the reasons I hate this:
And hate is not too strong a word here:
I actually like this class a lot except for group work:
1) I dislike talking to people in class. I never make friends in school. I prefer just to go there, do my thing, and go home. Group work forces me to interact with people. I don't like that.
2) I get absolutely nothing from it. I have not yet met anyone in class whose critiques of my work I would find useful, and the brief projects take twice as long in a group as they would alone. I find myself discussing really idiotic things--once it was whether a patient would understand the directive "above heart level" or if we should make it something more like "higher than your chest". Both have merit and potential pitfalls, but the conversation between the two other groupies was just so useless that I wanted to scream.
3) It is hard for me to not show how I feel. A lot of the time I can just go along with things and try not to be an asshole but not in this circumstance. It is too much. So I try to pleasantly and diplomatically point out how idiotic some of the ideas are. Pointing out idiocy is neither diplomatic nor pleasant. But I still try! Because that's the nice thing to do.
All of these points might lead a person to think, "Wow, this obnoxious person clearly needs to work better within groups! And probably do it more until she is better at it, and likes it more!" That is not the case. I have disliked group work and projects since I was born, and it will not change. It does not mean I cannot do it, but that I would choose not to 100% of the time. If it were required of me for a job I really liked I would probably suck it up. But I'd have to get probably two massages during the length of the project just to alleviate some of the inevitable stress I would feel.
Here are the reasons I hate this:
And hate is not too strong a word here:
I actually like this class a lot except for group work:
1) I dislike talking to people in class. I never make friends in school. I prefer just to go there, do my thing, and go home. Group work forces me to interact with people. I don't like that.
2) I get absolutely nothing from it. I have not yet met anyone in class whose critiques of my work I would find useful, and the brief projects take twice as long in a group as they would alone. I find myself discussing really idiotic things--once it was whether a patient would understand the directive "above heart level" or if we should make it something more like "higher than your chest". Both have merit and potential pitfalls, but the conversation between the two other groupies was just so useless that I wanted to scream.
3) It is hard for me to not show how I feel. A lot of the time I can just go along with things and try not to be an asshole but not in this circumstance. It is too much. So I try to pleasantly and diplomatically point out how idiotic some of the ideas are. Pointing out idiocy is neither diplomatic nor pleasant. But I still try! Because that's the nice thing to do.
All of these points might lead a person to think, "Wow, this obnoxious person clearly needs to work better within groups! And probably do it more until she is better at it, and likes it more!" That is not the case. I have disliked group work and projects since I was born, and it will not change. It does not mean I cannot do it, but that I would choose not to 100% of the time. If it were required of me for a job I really liked I would probably suck it up. But I'd have to get probably two massages during the length of the project just to alleviate some of the inevitable stress I would feel.
Semester, Sylvester
Back to school. You know, I always have kind of back-to-school excitement, which lasts about five minutes into syllabus-reading time in the first class. It makes me go batshit, as I may have mentioned once or twice. This year I got wise and skipped one or two first classes. But still suffered through a few more. At any rate, it's looking to be a very useful semester even though initially I thought it was just going to be a wankathon. I divided last semester (which was to be a horror of 18 credits, including two lab classes) into two, mainly to avoid becoming a serial killer which I most certainly would have. This means that I delayed my entrance into clinicals by a semester, but it also means a light load this fall term. So I have health care policy, a research class, clinical nutrition, and a medical/science technical writing seminar. Initially I had assumed total boredom would be the overarching theme of the fall, and it is at times, but honestly these are some of the most useful classes I have taken to date. Which is nice.
But! Being back on campus always leads me to the hate, the hate that is inevitable when I am around large groups of people. And in this case people means college students, which increases the hate by a factor of (∏ +⅔√∝). Without further ado, some letters to express myself:
Dear Guy in Writing Seminar,
I am overlooking your vampire teeth because even though I think you made them look like that through interpretive dentistry, it is possible that you were just born like that and can't help looking so Twilight. Aside from that, though, you are a whiny little turd. It is not necessary to spend the majority of "group work time" *note to self, rant about group work time* talking about how you never would have taken this class if you had known that it would focus so much on technicalities of grammar and dangling participles and stuff like that. And how in the description in the syllabus it didn't say that it would be so technical. And grammary. And focusing on writing policy, procedure, health care manuals, and other stuff like that.
I mean, a class that is offered jointly by both the English department and the Clinical Sciences department and called "Technical Writing for the Health and Science Professional" wouldn't imply any of those things, would it? Yes, actually, it would, vampire douche cake. So maybe instead of special seminars for smart people you should take Reading Course Offerings classes. Or Whining About How You Got a C on the First Assignment classes. Because the prof is grading really, really hard. I mean, she took off for editing mistakes! And grammar!
It was not polite of me to point out that the professor does indeed give A's for technically correct writing, as evidenced by my own paper. But, whiny vampire, I could no longer hold my tongue.
Sincerely,
Your admittedly antagonistic (to you, because I dislike you) classmate who is probably included in your whining now
Dear people who walk slowly on campus,
Listen, fuckers. I understand and support meandering, strolling, and any other forms of what I would consider inefficient walking. However my support rapidly turns to ire when your slow ass walking prevents my brisk forward motion. Heed the laws of society, please, and allow people room to pass if you are going to walk like an only slightly ambulatory elderly amputee. And if your walking is slowed because three or more of you must take up an entire hallway or sidewalk, do not get huffy when other more efficient and less social people say excuse me I'd like to pass you. It is not a personal affront. It would be, though, if I were actually saying what was on my mind but in this case I bow to social convention. I will admit, though, that I dislike having to waste motion on going around you rather than continuing in what could have been a more direct path to my destination.
Sincerely,
Your campus mate who seethes inside at times
Dear Research Professor,
I find it both radical and awesome that you are a master composter with an actual certification for that. I do not know what it takes to achieve master composter status but clearly you are committed to the breakdown of organic material and its use in gardening, and I respect that. I also find it very cool that you have signed on with Habitat for Humanity for yard organization with the inhabitants, and teach them about organic vegetable gardening and, of course, composting. I think the world would be a better place if we all pooped on leaves and vegetable scraps and appreciated the internal heat generated by a compost pile that's really working.
Sincerely,
Your student, a lifelong respecter of the compost pile
But! Being back on campus always leads me to the hate, the hate that is inevitable when I am around large groups of people. And in this case people means college students, which increases the hate by a factor of (∏ +⅔√∝). Without further ado, some letters to express myself:
Dear Guy in Writing Seminar,
I am overlooking your vampire teeth because even though I think you made them look like that through interpretive dentistry, it is possible that you were just born like that and can't help looking so Twilight. Aside from that, though, you are a whiny little turd. It is not necessary to spend the majority of "group work time" *note to self, rant about group work time* talking about how you never would have taken this class if you had known that it would focus so much on technicalities of grammar and dangling participles and stuff like that. And how in the description in the syllabus it didn't say that it would be so technical. And grammary. And focusing on writing policy, procedure, health care manuals, and other stuff like that.
I mean, a class that is offered jointly by both the English department and the Clinical Sciences department and called "Technical Writing for the Health and Science Professional" wouldn't imply any of those things, would it? Yes, actually, it would, vampire douche cake. So maybe instead of special seminars for smart people you should take Reading Course Offerings classes. Or Whining About How You Got a C on the First Assignment classes. Because the prof is grading really, really hard. I mean, she took off for editing mistakes! And grammar!
It was not polite of me to point out that the professor does indeed give A's for technically correct writing, as evidenced by my own paper. But, whiny vampire, I could no longer hold my tongue.
Sincerely,
Your admittedly antagonistic (to you, because I dislike you) classmate who is probably included in your whining now
Dear people who walk slowly on campus,
Listen, fuckers. I understand and support meandering, strolling, and any other forms of what I would consider inefficient walking. However my support rapidly turns to ire when your slow ass walking prevents my brisk forward motion. Heed the laws of society, please, and allow people room to pass if you are going to walk like an only slightly ambulatory elderly amputee. And if your walking is slowed because three or more of you must take up an entire hallway or sidewalk, do not get huffy when other more efficient and less social people say excuse me I'd like to pass you. It is not a personal affront. It would be, though, if I were actually saying what was on my mind but in this case I bow to social convention. I will admit, though, that I dislike having to waste motion on going around you rather than continuing in what could have been a more direct path to my destination.
Sincerely,
Your campus mate who seethes inside at times
Dear Research Professor,
I find it both radical and awesome that you are a master composter with an actual certification for that. I do not know what it takes to achieve master composter status but clearly you are committed to the breakdown of organic material and its use in gardening, and I respect that. I also find it very cool that you have signed on with Habitat for Humanity for yard organization with the inhabitants, and teach them about organic vegetable gardening and, of course, composting. I think the world would be a better place if we all pooped on leaves and vegetable scraps and appreciated the internal heat generated by a compost pile that's really working.
Sincerely,
Your student, a lifelong respecter of the compost pile
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