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April 10, 2009

Strange Proposition

You may not believe that this story is true, and believe me, if it hadn't happened to me, I would have some speck of skepticism as well. And yet, the fact that it happened at the bus stop only supports the truthfulness of this story.

I had just finished research for the day (thank God), and I stopped at the Coffman bus stop to go back to Pioneer. I know it's not a far walk, but I was lazy this morning and fate was not on my side. I was also wearing a dress (was that why it happened? I'm going to start wearing baggy clothes) and it was windy, so the bus sounded like a good idea at the time.

I missed the connector, as usual, so I stood next to the bus stop sign and waited for the next one to come. As I was standing there, a man in an orange parka, with a backpack and a scruffy look to him walked up to me. I thought he looked maybe about late 20's to early 30's, fairly normal, nothing to make him stand out. Until he opened his mouth.

Here is what he said, as exactly as I can remember it:

"Hi, I know I don't know you, but I just wanted to say something to you. You have an unparalleled beauty that needs to be noticed by the world. I would like to ask you a question. With your permission of course, I would like to get down on my knees right here and kiss your feet."

My reply: "Uh…I don't really feel comfortable with this."

I must stop here and just tell you what my feelings were at the point he asked to kiss my feet. When he first told me I was beautiful, I thought maybe he was just shy around women and was trying to use some oddly planned pick-up line. But when he got to the foot fetish thing, the only thing I could think was this is a joke. But he kept going. At which point I thought please tell me this is the psych department doing some weird research study. When he was done talking and I left, no one gave me any debriefing, so I am forced to conclude that this was not the case. The third thing I thought may be kind of mean or judgmental, but it's a two-part question: I thought at the time that he was either "mentally unstable" (my brain gave me this word, maybe from abnormal psychology classes) or that he just had a foot fetish and wanted to be normal about it. I felt bad. The apple of his cheek continuously twitched as he spoke and I found myself staring at it because I didn't know what to do.

I just want to tell you now that there is no end to this story and I cannot explain this man's words. So I will just note the rest of his speech.

"I know this might seem forward and this is an awkward question, but I would like to get to know you and maybe make my way up to that point. I realize that I might not be worthy of you, but I would like us to get to know each other. So, with your permission, would it be okay with you if we had a more formal introduction?"

My reply: "Uh…I don't really feel comfortable with this."

I had no idea what to say, what to do, what to think. It was surreal. I felt myself swaying on the spot with weirdness. The sun was too bright. All I could think was, where the fuck is the bus? To continue:

He said, "Well…there's no way to back away from this without being awkward, so…" He then stared at me. I said, "Well, thank you." He then backed away awkwardly, laughing that he didn't mean to be weird. He stood behind me for five solid minutes while I waited for the bus. It never came. Kamran called me and I immediately answered. He wanted to know if I could eat lunch with him at Coffman. I said "YES I'LL BE THERE IN A SECOND." I walked off to Coffman and didn't turn back.

When I told Kamran, he said, "Well he got his wish."

"What wish?"

"I've noticed your unparalleled beauty."

He thinks he's so funny. What a suck-up.

I called my mom and told her. After laughing at me for about thirty seconds, she said I should have told him that I was married and my husband wouldn't appreciate him kissing my feet. I had thought about saying I had a boyfriend, but for some reason, I didn't want to disappoint the guy or make him sad. My sister said it was hilarious.

I ended up walking home after eating with Kamran. I don't think I'll stand at the bus stop again for awhile.

March 4, 2009

Computers: I am the destroyer of technology. Beware.

I hate them. They hate me. I have the worst luck with any sort of technology in my life. I ruin everything I touch. My computer. My digital camera. My ipod. Robots. If I were an X-Person (I am not a Man) I would be that little kid from the second movie who changes the TV channels by blinking. Except when I blinked, the TV would explode. The wreckage from the television would destroy my computer, which would have my ipod attached, which would promptly stop working.

I once got an electric shock that burned my finger when I was pulling the cord from my alarm clock out of the wall.

But the latest strife in my life of eternal computer-related misery and woe is the self-destruction of my computer. It just stopped working. It turns on for a second and then does nothing. A little cursor blinks in the corner. Kamran got it to turn back on the first try. The guy at the help desk got it on in one try, but told me it was suffering from MOTHERBOARD FAILURE. What does that mean? I know nothing about computers, I care nothing about computers. But I'm pretty sure that's really bad.

I am praying for it to just miraculously start working again, but I can't find a passage in the Bible that mentions an IT department in heaven.

In a normal pissed-off situation like this, I would either play a shit ton of spider solitaire, or I would listen to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. Unfortunately, I can't do either of these. And so my life is a jumbled mess, I can't check my email every 10 minutes, facebook is out of the question, how am I supposed to check if anyone has tagged me in a new photo? What is the point of life?

And now I realize that this was all my fault. I recently wrote that I shouldn't bring my computer to class, that is was a distraction, that I needed to be able to concentrate and it was ruining my class time. I wrote the post on my computer. My computer must have been watching. It committed suicide because it was unappreciated. Now I realize the error of my ways. I must win back the heart of my poor precious computer.

February 27, 2009

Why I Shouldn't Bring my Computer to Class

I think I need to talk myself out of taking notes on my laptop. I spend way too much time on the internet, looking at things that I don't need to look at (not porn). In fact, I am in class right now. I'm not listening at all and sometimes I block things out so thoroughly that I really have no idea what's going on for a solid thirty minutes. Here are the pros and cons of having my computer in class with me.

Pros:

1. Taking notes is so much faster. I get all the information I need as quickly as I need it. I don't have to waste precious, precious paper to write out a bunch of unnecessary notes that I will inevitably throw away the second after the final. This way, I can just put my notes in the trash, quick and easy (you can't recycle on a computer, they should call it the recycling bin to increase awareness of recycling and nitpicking.)

2. I can carry my computer instead of several notebooks. It's cleaner and lighter and takes up less room. Also,

Cons:

1. I spend an ungodly amount of time on: facebook, digg, and somethingawful. I become a bigger nerd every day. It's an addiction. I get to the point where when I actually have to take notes, I consider it an inconvenience and an interruption of more important work.

2. I check my email every 5.3 seconds. I never have new emails. I become depressed.

3. I spent an entire 2 hours reading wikipedia articles on Salman Rushdie and whatever links off of his entry.

4. I talk to Kamran too much and I say things that are either mean but joking("I hate you"), don't make any sense ("poooooooooop"), or just things that are boring or useless ("yeah.") He puts up with me.

5. I think people might see what I'm looking at or writing, and even though it's normal stuff, it makes me uncomfortable.

6. My computer is slow and takes forever to start up. It also takes up my whole damn desk. I need room for my pencil. I might need it.

I thought of way more cons, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue taking my computer to class. It's just so much more fun to read digg than listen to whatever the hell my teacher is talking about. We'll see what my test grades are to see the real answer.

February 7, 2009

Class Schedule Spring 2009

Since I haven't written anything in forever and a half, I figured I would slowly ease back into the task of writing mediocre opinion pieces on subjects that apparently no one but myself cares about. My first post of the year, and I'm wasting it on a summary of my classes. This is all I have in life.

1. Biological Psychology: Seems like an okay class at first, until they start talking. This is no regular psychology class. I've taken about ten since coming to the University, and this is the only one I've taken that relies on real science. The only one that uses several methods to explain real, concrete information. Whereas with other psychology classes, there's always this sort of leeway, it might be true, there's a correlation, but there's no real way to be sure. Well this time, they're sure. They cut up a bunch of dead guys and studied what was in there. Unfortunately, we now have to study all the gross inside-stuff that they found.

2. French Theatre: I like my teacher, I've had her for three classes now. No complaints. More Sartre? No thank you.

3. Abnormal Psychology: I like the content, but the problem I have with this class is that it meets at night. I hate night classes. I had successfully avoided them until this semester. I had two my freshman year and I vowed I would not take another my entire college career. My vow was broken, and now I am shamed. My family is also shamed. And I have to sit next to smelly people. The first night of class I almost threw up because the woman sitting next to me (bored housewife?) smelled like chicken salad and fruity lip balm. Now I sit next to a post-Goth kid with a rectangular beard who smokes during breaks. I honestly prefer the smoke over the lip balm. I'll talk lung cancer over chicken salad chapstick any day.

4. Social Psychology: I love this class. My definite favorite this semester. My professor swears (a lot). Here is a small list of the words she has said in class:
Asshole
Bitch
Shit
Shit
Shit
Cock
Vagina
Prostitute
Slut
The word cock was actually written in the notes. No joke. This woman is brilliant. She should teach every one of my classes. She should have her own television show and book deal. I love this class.

5. Honors Seminar: This class was supposed to be a seminar based on the study of autism. When we all showed up to start the class on the first day, the professor informed us that he didn't want to teach about autism anymore. Apparently there must be an unwritten understanding that professors can just teach whatever they want without informing anyone, even the students, that the class is going to completely change. He's now teaching us about prosopagnosia, where a person does not recognize/differentiate between faces. Now, this is still semi-interesting, don't get me wrong. But is it really a three-credit class, one semester long? Is it worth that much time and energy? And the professor doesn't even really know anything about the disorder. He's just "interested" in it. Yeah. So we're taking the class and he's taking the class, basically. I'm so glad a college-education is worth this much to the administration. What a great semester I have to look forward to.

December 8, 2008

I hate finals.

I hate studying for them, I hate thinking about them, I hate discussing them, I hate scheduling them and knowing the schedule, I hate taking them, I hate worrying about them.

So I put it all off.  By watching movies or writing uninteresting blog posts.  Here's my schedule:

1. French oral test: Easy, ridiculously so.  We just have to read some stupid passage out loud, probably about Jean-Claude and Mireille going to Tours or something like that.

2. Research practicum final paper: Whatever, I've had it done for awhile, I just want to get rid of it and never think about it again.  The whole class, really.

3. Saturday: French written final.  Not easy, but not overly difficult.  I think it'll be mostly memorizing a bunch of bullshit about how to pronounce eau and eu and u and ou.  But who schedules a final test on a Saturday at 8am?  That's a poor planning issue and it needs to be dealt with.

4. Thursday: (I just realized that I skipped this one and don't want to renumber.  Also, I went from labeling in terms of tests to days instead.)  Cognitive psychology test, online.  Not hard, I get to use all my notes and my book, so I can cheat all I want.

5. Monday: Film final paper due.  Oddly, I took this class for fun, but it's turned out to be the one class that I'm a little worried about.  I already turned in my rough draft, and I really don't know what to expect for feedback.  Probably that it wasn't that great.  I just want it to be over with, so I don't have to think about it anymore.  And anyway, I hate classes where I have to basically make up interpretations that are bullshit and could be applied to anything and not even a film in particular.  But that's just me.

6. Child Psychology Final: I really enjoyed this class, but I'll still be glad when it's over.  We spend about twenty minutes each week listening to stupid questions and wondering why these people still believe that single case studies prove or disprove a hypothesis. 

That's my schedule.  I have nothing else to say.

October 2, 2008

Frustration with Classes? Of course.

I really think the reason people become professors is just so they can sit up on a soapbox and listen to themselves talk.  When will a certain professor of mine learn that nothing he says is important or necessary?  He draws ten slides out to two hours, no lie.  He puts in little tangents and "jokes" that he must believe are relevant, but have nothing to do with the course.  This is an upper division course, all the students just finished the course concentrating on research methods.  By the title alone, I'm sure you realize that that class goes through an entire semester of research methods in detail; every boring, tedious, drawn-out detail.  Yet this professor feels the need to explain to us how to use APA method.  How to write a fucking paper.  Research methods yet again.  It makes me want to cry and become an emo.  And I don't like the emo style at all.  Do you see what this is driving me towards?

The worst thing is that he tells us every day that we're going to get out early, and we never do.  We are supposed to be working in the lab, not sitting in the darkened B.F. Skinner room talking about how to peer review.  We've been doing peer reviews since middle school.  Middle school.  I get so pissed that I want to scream when I'm in class.  It's mind-numbingly dull.  That's one thing the University needs to take care of.  Get rid of these terrible professors.  I am paying for this education, and when I get a class like this, I think, what a waste of time, money, brain cells, anger hatred, and energy.  I spend the whole two hours doodling and I couldn't care less.  I feel trapped in my own brain. 

It's like a slow torture, they are breaking our spirits so we will be their slaves in the labs.  Another thing: I'm not going into psychology research.  I want to be a therapist.  So why in hell am I required to do research for these people?  Oh, right, we're trying to be a top research University.  I feel used.

"Oh, it's good for your education, you'll have more experience, and…uh…also, we're going to suck out your soul and force you to raise our standing as a research University…Thanks!"

They are honestly just using us.  Don't get me wrong, I love the two research projects I've worked on.  But when I am forced to do this, there is no joy for me.  It's just a job.  Going to this class is like a death camp.  (Melodramatic, but only slightly so.)  Why can't they provide me with something that will actually help me with my future career?  I can't put up with this incompetence.  The fact that University doesn't give a shit about me is terrifying.  I've had numerous problems with different departments here and it honestly has taught me one thing that this University does not want me here.  I'm very sorry to feel this way, because I love it here.  I love all the classes I've taken, and I mean every single one, but the process of getting things together just isn't working here.  Departments don't work together, they have no idea what's going on, I've had people yell at me for not having things in on time even when I did, no one answers calls or e-mails or letters or drop-ins.  Departments do not work together, they have no idea what the other departments are doing.  How can I put any faith into my education when I have no faith in the University caring for me?

I wrote this during my class.  I didn't listen to a word the professor said.  Which is funny, because I will probably still get an A.

September 18, 2008

The Most Boring Day in History

I honestly think my brain died for a few minutes in class today.  Or at least I wanted it to.  I also thought about these options: jumping out the second story window, banging my head on the desk, crying, running away, standing up and yelling cuss-words, screaming, and falling asleep.  But of course, I couldn't do any of these things, so I just sat there and did some long division problems.  For some reason unknown to me, long division makes time pass very quickly.  It's like some weird time-space portal that causes the clock to speed up.  Try it sometime, I guarantee it will work.

But how can teachers possibly believe that anything they say is in the least bit interesting?  Do they talk this way at home, with their husbands or wives or children, etc?  I hope not.  I would punch my parents in the head if they talked like that.

And now all I can do is just sit here and be pissed off.  I'm pretty sure my classes can be boiled down to about ten minutes each, and I would get the same amount of information in a better format.  I have no patience left in my entire body for anything as useless as that class.  That's a pretty bold statement, but I think I can back it up.  Whether I will or not depends on my mood, but I guess I'll think about it.  No, I can't write anymore.  I'm sick of thinking.

September 8, 2008

Class Analysis

So the first week is over, and I think my classes will be fun.  That doesn't mean I want to go, but at least I might get some enjoyment out of them.  Sometimes.  Maybe.

So here is a short list and grading of each of my classes.  Because I can.

1. French Phonetics: While not the most fun I've ever had in a French class, it is highly amusing to say "ah ah ah ooo ooo ooo ewww ewww ewww" for three straight minutes, while watching the teacher judge your lip formation.  A little creepy, yes, but the trick is not to laugh when you know the girl behind you is saying everything wrong and she thinks she's so good at French.  She's not.  On the plus side, there's barely any homework.  On the minus side, we have to memorize the International Phonetic Alphabet, which sounds like something some guy designed so he could say he made up his own language.  He didn't, what a cop out.  Overall Grade: B-

2. Child Psychology: The teacher seems nice so far, but I don't feel like I've really learned anything yet.  Plus we have to write a reaction paper already this week.  What is that all about?  I expect no homework for the first month.  Maybe it's not a realistic expectation, but I need time to get used to the year, get into the flow of things.  Be lazy.  A little kid came to class the other day, that was pretty cute.  But otherwise it's just a very standard psychology class, complete with the scientific method (to make it seem more legitimate), research methods (never heard of that before…), and discussions of Darwin and Freud (psychologists still have a boner about those two for some reason.)  Overall Grade: C+

3. Film Study: So far it seems interesting enough, and I've always wanted to take a film study class.  And the teacher looks just like that guy who played Rick in Degrassi.  The actor's name is Ephraim Ellis, I think.  Yes, I imdb'ed him because I was sure that he was teaching my film study class.  That would have made me so happy.  But oh well, I still call him Rick when I talk about that class.  Rick says that if we miss one class, we fail.  We miss one assignment, we fail.  We miss his birthday, we fail.  I made that last one up, but I don't want to fail, so I won't miss it, just in case.  Overall Grade: B+, Overall Grade if Rick was really my teacher: A+

4. Research Practicum: Pretty standard, 12 hours per week is a little much for my taste, but it should be fun anyway, since we get to work in a psychology field that interests us.  Yet, why do I have to do this if I'm not going into research psychology?  Yeah, yeah, top research university, they brainwash us into researching, oh I mean they highly encourage research.  They're getting to me already.  Overall Grade: C

5. Cognitive Psychology: The teacher seems awesome, a ball-buster in fact.  And since I'm female, I'll be okay.  All the quizzes and tests are online, unlimited time on quizzes, ten questions each, interesting material, I have a friend/fellow CA in the class, and it only meets twice a week.  Exactly what I want in a class.  We already learned about some weird brain-enhancing techniques, and I love that kind of almost-sci-fi-but-it's-real stuff.  Overall Grade: A+

I think it's going to be an awesome semester, I'm having a great time so far, I have good classes, an amazing job, and I'll be an aunt by the end of the day.  Life is good.

September 2, 2008

First Day of Class: Free Haikus

It’s raining.  Not a great day, but not a terrible one.  Sounds like a haiku.

“The leaf shakes in wind. 

Blowing in the soothing breeze. 

Classes are boring.? 

I feel no creativity at the moment, so I didn’t want to write a review of anything.  I’m listening to the Beatles and reading Alice in Wonderland.  I love it, very trippy and weird.  Good times.

I had a child psychology class this morning, I have a cognitive psychology class tonight.  Not too shabby.  The teacher seemed nice.  Otherwise pretty standard fare for a first day back in the fall.  It’s too hot though. 

“Rainy, hot, muggy. 

The stale classroom makes me sick. 

I wish I weren’t here.?

I think I’ll just haiku it up today, describe my life in a 5-7-5.  That’s a pretty accurate assessment of my emotional state at the moment.  If I really try, I can easily write sentences that sound like they belong in textbooks.  “Throughout the course of each hectic yet monotonous day, my life as an average college-aged student has become a more typical representation of the adolescent malaise seen most clearly in the late teens and early twenties.  A typical day in the life of such a student consists most commonly of an acute discontentment, a disconsolate maladjustment to the fact that the child-mind must be abandoned in order to become a contributing member of society, and that adult life is not represented clearly in the play-acting so popular among young children.?  I just made that up.  I think I will write a bullshit textbook of sentences like that, with no real research or facts behind it and just market it as some new child-rearing strategy.  It would have to be leather-bound, and people would smoke pipes while reading it, and guffaw at their children’s emotions.

“My leather-bound books

Prove to the world my smartness.

Education? Ha.?