With this semester winding down, I've been thinking a lot about where I'll be living next semester. If I wanted to make a change, there's no better time than now. On-campus housing for spring semester is going to be a little more than $4800. If I wanted to, I could take that money and use it for off-campus housing. 3 months in a dorm room is $4800. 6 months in a studio apartment won't be much more than $3300, plus food and utilities.
So I'm looking once again at apartments. This time, without depending on a random third person to also be willing and able. Any money that I get for housing that I don't end up using, I can always put back into my student loans to lower the amount I owe before interest starts accumulating 6 months after graduation. Why not, right? The biggest reason why not is that after graduation, I don't have housing money to spend. I may be working full time, I may be going to grad school, or I might not be doing either of those things. Unfortunately not much is certain. Even more than he wants to move out, Justin doesn't want to come crawling back to his parents after failing to strike out on our own.
But nothing is certain in these times, right?
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Dear Adulthood.
Dear Adulthood,
You have taken a lot from me that I never expected as a bright-eyed child, wishing I could be a grown-up, jealous of the cool things that they got to do. I realize that you and I are not fully acquainted yet, but I'm not happy with the direction that our relationship has taken. You took so much, and continue to take in ways that I don't always understand. Yet you give so little, so little of what was expected, and what I was expecting you manage to twist and distort until what I thought would be a great thing is suddenly a monster. Adulthood, I think we can still be friends if we work on our relationship a little, but first I need a few things from you.
First, I want my math skills back.
Stick = Sword
Stick + Yarn = Bow
Pinecone = Grenade
Pillow^2 + Blanket/Couch = Fort
Mud + Leaf = Pie
Just a few examples of equations that I used to be able to do and can no longer. Now the only math I can do involves numbers and letters, and endless memorization. That kind of math used to come so naturally to me that I never thought I could lose it, but you took it away and I want it back.
Second, I need you to calm down. Sometimes I wonder if you're bipolar. You'll have periods of time where you're fine, maybe a little dull but never completely still. Then as soon as I get used to being able to handle you, it's like a switch flips and suddenly you're bouncing off the walls, throwing things at me, sometimes I don't even get to see what those things are before they shatter, and I have to grab hold and hope that you settle down soon before you start breaking the things that you haven't stolen from me yet.
Third, I want Santa Claus back. I know that at first you hesitated to take him from me, and ever eager to discover the truth I offered him to you like a sacrifice, but you should have known better. I barely knew you, Adulthood, and he was important to me. I gave him to you for the promise of shining facts, and what I got was barely coal, with no promise of diamonds, not in a million years. This was not the even exchange that I had expected. With Santa gone, I sometimes find myself on the receiving end of gifts that I might want, but feel wrong accepting because now I know the true cost. What were once happy elves building toys and trinkets are now slaves, tied down by obligation, tradition, expectations. When I look closer I see that those slaves are my friends, my family. And now with your filthy truth in hand I find myself drawn to the shackles, compelled by a sense of tradition that you "kindly" left when you took Saint Nick.
I might miss these things less if you kept your promises to me, Adulthood. You told me that if we could be friends, if we got to know each other, you would give me independence, freedom, at least enough money to scrape by on my own, and enough good things to occupy myself happily that I wouldn't need those math skills anymore. If you can't reconsider your actions, we can't be friends. I know that I miss Childhood, and I'm sure Childhood misses me. I'm tired of this exclusive relationship. Why won't you let me be friends with Childhood too?
I hope you can change your ways.
-Saint Tawny
You have taken a lot from me that I never expected as a bright-eyed child, wishing I could be a grown-up, jealous of the cool things that they got to do. I realize that you and I are not fully acquainted yet, but I'm not happy with the direction that our relationship has taken. You took so much, and continue to take in ways that I don't always understand. Yet you give so little, so little of what was expected, and what I was expecting you manage to twist and distort until what I thought would be a great thing is suddenly a monster. Adulthood, I think we can still be friends if we work on our relationship a little, but first I need a few things from you.
First, I want my math skills back.
Stick = Sword
Stick + Yarn = Bow
Pinecone = Grenade
Pillow^2 + Blanket/Couch = Fort
Mud + Leaf = Pie
Just a few examples of equations that I used to be able to do and can no longer. Now the only math I can do involves numbers and letters, and endless memorization. That kind of math used to come so naturally to me that I never thought I could lose it, but you took it away and I want it back.
Second, I need you to calm down. Sometimes I wonder if you're bipolar. You'll have periods of time where you're fine, maybe a little dull but never completely still. Then as soon as I get used to being able to handle you, it's like a switch flips and suddenly you're bouncing off the walls, throwing things at me, sometimes I don't even get to see what those things are before they shatter, and I have to grab hold and hope that you settle down soon before you start breaking the things that you haven't stolen from me yet.
Third, I want Santa Claus back. I know that at first you hesitated to take him from me, and ever eager to discover the truth I offered him to you like a sacrifice, but you should have known better. I barely knew you, Adulthood, and he was important to me. I gave him to you for the promise of shining facts, and what I got was barely coal, with no promise of diamonds, not in a million years. This was not the even exchange that I had expected. With Santa gone, I sometimes find myself on the receiving end of gifts that I might want, but feel wrong accepting because now I know the true cost. What were once happy elves building toys and trinkets are now slaves, tied down by obligation, tradition, expectations. When I look closer I see that those slaves are my friends, my family. And now with your filthy truth in hand I find myself drawn to the shackles, compelled by a sense of tradition that you "kindly" left when you took Saint Nick.
I might miss these things less if you kept your promises to me, Adulthood. You told me that if we could be friends, if we got to know each other, you would give me independence, freedom, at least enough money to scrape by on my own, and enough good things to occupy myself happily that I wouldn't need those math skills anymore. If you can't reconsider your actions, we can't be friends. I know that I miss Childhood, and I'm sure Childhood misses me. I'm tired of this exclusive relationship. Why won't you let me be friends with Childhood too?
I hope you can change your ways.
-Saint Tawny
Monday, November 8, 2010
(Campus) Life is a bitch #3
There's inevitably a point in the semester where shit starts to go down. It's like all of the professors on campus get together and decide "Alright, time to crack the whip." Suddenly you go from having idle time between homework to weighing which class you can ignore to focus on that one class with two exams, two quizzes and three long homework assignments due in the next two weeks. Well, this semester has reached that point.
Statistics is super easy but extremely time consuming. The teacher (who I'm convinced is a dragon in disguise) is very particular about the way things are done for her class. She uses nearly 10 minutes out of a 50 minute class period to have everyone form a huuuuuge line at the front of the class to sign in, instead of taking attendance with a clicker that takes a minute at most like other teachers who care about attendance. This process takes even longer if there's homework due, because it has to be folded a certain way with your name on the outside and placed in piles at the front alphabetically. If you're late, you have to sign in on a late sheet, with the time of your arrival. This also cuts into class time because she has to verify that you're not lying when you write down what time you got there. The extra credit pop quizzes are a nice gesture, but the answers always come from lecture slides that we haven't had in class yet. There's also a second type of homework that has to be turned in at the exam, two or three of them per exam, and they have to be put into a colored folder (no brads) and arranged in a rainbow-organized pile before you start. Another traffic jam at the front of the room. The third type of homework is due online every few weeks and this one bothers me more than both of the others. It's literally a page with 7-12 instances of "See Textbook #__" and five bubbles or a blank that you're supposed to answer according to the question in the textbook. Instead of just being able to do the online homework ONLINE, you have to buy the textbook for $40 (that can't be sold back because it's paperback) and go between the book and your computer screen to answer questions that don't even require any calculation. The questions will literally be "How many people were involved in the study?" and the first thing that the study paragraph says is "This study used a sample size of 51 people."
Physics isn't too mentally demanding outside of the homework. I'm actually typing this in physics right now, because everything in the homework and the lecture slides is irrelevant when you get to the exam. The homework is intentionally about 10 times harder than the exam, which forces you to get a handle on the subject, but most of the time there are no hints or ways to understand what you're doing wrong if you're struggling. You have 5 tries per question, and something as little as having 8.56 when the answer was 8.57 or 8.561 is enough to get it wrong. It's also due at really random times. 11:43 on Thursday night, for example. The professor also doesn't know how to handle questions. To him, every question is a stupid question, and you're wasting time by asking it, so sit down and shut up. He also makes mistakes, frequently, and it takes 5 or 6 students pointing it out to him before he takes it seriously and considers that he might have messed up.
English is actually a good class. There's some work due online each week, he's not super strict about it. We have a reasonable load of readings every week that we have to comment on online and then read someone else's comments and make a reply. In class, we discuss our readings, and once in a while we have a paper due. I think this is an appropriate work load, but I can't manage to keep up with these assignments because of how much time I spend on Physics and Statistics.
Painting is a simple class, the projects are all worked on in class, we're not asked to spend any extra time on them unless we choose to or feel it necessary. Attendance is recommended but not required, except on days when the paintings are due, when we put all the paintings on the easels along one wall and we talk about the successes and failures of each painting. My only beef with this class is that sometimes the assignments are too restrictive in what we're allowed to do. For example, our last painting had to be a reproduction of a Cezanne still life. Not a re-interpretation, a reproduction. If you google search Cezanne still life, you'll see that he almost exclusively paints oranges. Do not want. I don't want to paint something I'm not going to consider hanging in my room, and I don't want a poor copy of some guy's painting of oranges.
My last class is Biochemistry. When I enrolled in this class, my understanding was that my previous knowledge about Biology would be at least as important as having a basic understanding of organic chemistry. If this were the case, I wouldn't be struggling so much in this class. Me and Chemistry? We don't mix. I had a terrible Gen Chem teacher and a pretty bad Orgo teacher who couldn't help me catch up on Gen Chem enough to understand the new material. I can understand the concepts, but I have this mental block about memorizing mechanisms, and that's almost completely what Biochem is. Memorize the structure of Glucose (easy enough) and then also memorize the way it changes as it is metabolized. A missing hydrogen is enough to mess the whole process up, and is nearly impossible to spot sometimes.
Now all of these classes have something major due this week, and I don't even know where to begin.
Statistics is super easy but extremely time consuming. The teacher (who I'm convinced is a dragon in disguise) is very particular about the way things are done for her class. She uses nearly 10 minutes out of a 50 minute class period to have everyone form a huuuuuge line at the front of the class to sign in, instead of taking attendance with a clicker that takes a minute at most like other teachers who care about attendance. This process takes even longer if there's homework due, because it has to be folded a certain way with your name on the outside and placed in piles at the front alphabetically. If you're late, you have to sign in on a late sheet, with the time of your arrival. This also cuts into class time because she has to verify that you're not lying when you write down what time you got there. The extra credit pop quizzes are a nice gesture, but the answers always come from lecture slides that we haven't had in class yet. There's also a second type of homework that has to be turned in at the exam, two or three of them per exam, and they have to be put into a colored folder (no brads) and arranged in a rainbow-organized pile before you start. Another traffic jam at the front of the room. The third type of homework is due online every few weeks and this one bothers me more than both of the others. It's literally a page with 7-12 instances of "See Textbook #__" and five bubbles or a blank that you're supposed to answer according to the question in the textbook. Instead of just being able to do the online homework ONLINE, you have to buy the textbook for $40 (that can't be sold back because it's paperback) and go between the book and your computer screen to answer questions that don't even require any calculation. The questions will literally be "How many people were involved in the study?" and the first thing that the study paragraph says is "This study used a sample size of 51 people."
Physics isn't too mentally demanding outside of the homework. I'm actually typing this in physics right now, because everything in the homework and the lecture slides is irrelevant when you get to the exam. The homework is intentionally about 10 times harder than the exam, which forces you to get a handle on the subject, but most of the time there are no hints or ways to understand what you're doing wrong if you're struggling. You have 5 tries per question, and something as little as having 8.56 when the answer was 8.57 or 8.561 is enough to get it wrong. It's also due at really random times. 11:43 on Thursday night, for example. The professor also doesn't know how to handle questions. To him, every question is a stupid question, and you're wasting time by asking it, so sit down and shut up. He also makes mistakes, frequently, and it takes 5 or 6 students pointing it out to him before he takes it seriously and considers that he might have messed up.
English is actually a good class. There's some work due online each week, he's not super strict about it. We have a reasonable load of readings every week that we have to comment on online and then read someone else's comments and make a reply. In class, we discuss our readings, and once in a while we have a paper due. I think this is an appropriate work load, but I can't manage to keep up with these assignments because of how much time I spend on Physics and Statistics.
Painting is a simple class, the projects are all worked on in class, we're not asked to spend any extra time on them unless we choose to or feel it necessary. Attendance is recommended but not required, except on days when the paintings are due, when we put all the paintings on the easels along one wall and we talk about the successes and failures of each painting. My only beef with this class is that sometimes the assignments are too restrictive in what we're allowed to do. For example, our last painting had to be a reproduction of a Cezanne still life. Not a re-interpretation, a reproduction. If you google search Cezanne still life, you'll see that he almost exclusively paints oranges. Do not want. I don't want to paint something I'm not going to consider hanging in my room, and I don't want a poor copy of some guy's painting of oranges.
My last class is Biochemistry. When I enrolled in this class, my understanding was that my previous knowledge about Biology would be at least as important as having a basic understanding of organic chemistry. If this were the case, I wouldn't be struggling so much in this class. Me and Chemistry? We don't mix. I had a terrible Gen Chem teacher and a pretty bad Orgo teacher who couldn't help me catch up on Gen Chem enough to understand the new material. I can understand the concepts, but I have this mental block about memorizing mechanisms, and that's almost completely what Biochem is. Memorize the structure of Glucose (easy enough) and then also memorize the way it changes as it is metabolized. A missing hydrogen is enough to mess the whole process up, and is nearly impossible to spot sometimes.
Now all of these classes have something major due this week, and I don't even know where to begin.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Nail Polish
A couple month ago, one of the girls I work with (the same one that said "no u" regarding the bunny) noticed how often I wear sandals, and became obsessed with the fact that my nails were never painted. She said that my unpainted toes looked like naked little sausages. So I called her dumb and moved on. She said this every time I worked with her for weeks on end. I like my toes just fine, and no amount of berating on her part can change the fact that I think I have rather nice looking feet, even without polish. She was being kind of a bitch about it, but that's how she is, and I don't fault her for it. I'd actually call her a friend. We're bitches to each other and then we laugh about it, and then we argue over who has to pull trays in kennel.
Anyway, I decided to play her game and paint my toenails one day. I actually sort of liked the way it looked, and I kept doing it for a couple weeks. Then I decided that plain polish wasn't good enough. If I was going to paint my toenails, they were going to be miniature works of art. So I invested ($2) in a bottle of polish with a finer brush so that I could paint a design. I went with spider webs to start, because it seemed easy. And it was. And it was also fun. I finished my toes as House was ending and decided I'd do my fingernails too while I watched Dexter.
Now, I've been a nail-biter my whole life. Sometimes, I would go relatively long periods of time without biting them, and then I'd just catch myself biting them while playing WoW or something. Justin hates when I bite my nails. For his sake, I've been trying to stop for the better part of a year now, but most of the time I don't catch myself until after I've gone through two nails. The night after painting my fingernails, I was standing at the puppy desk during a lull, and I started to bite my nail. I stopped before my finger even made it to my face, thinking, "But I'll ruin the design if I bite them D:". So far, this nail polish thing seems to have done the trick for me. It's fun to do while I catch up on the three shows that I watch, and the desire to not destroy my hard work helps me keep better track of what I'm doing with my nails (I.E. biting them).
Anyway, I decided to play her game and paint my toenails one day. I actually sort of liked the way it looked, and I kept doing it for a couple weeks. Then I decided that plain polish wasn't good enough. If I was going to paint my toenails, they were going to be miniature works of art. So I invested ($2) in a bottle of polish with a finer brush so that I could paint a design. I went with spider webs to start, because it seemed easy. And it was. And it was also fun. I finished my toes as House was ending and decided I'd do my fingernails too while I watched Dexter.
Now, I've been a nail-biter my whole life. Sometimes, I would go relatively long periods of time without biting them, and then I'd just catch myself biting them while playing WoW or something. Justin hates when I bite my nails. For his sake, I've been trying to stop for the better part of a year now, but most of the time I don't catch myself until after I've gone through two nails. The night after painting my fingernails, I was standing at the puppy desk during a lull, and I started to bite my nail. I stopped before my finger even made it to my face, thinking, "But I'll ruin the design if I bite them D:". So far, this nail polish thing seems to have done the trick for me. It's fun to do while I catch up on the three shows that I watch, and the desire to not destroy my hard work helps me keep better track of what I'm doing with my nails (I.E. biting them).
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| Currently wearing: Candy Corn. It looks tasty. |
Friday, October 22, 2010
Grandpa Maynard and Aunt Barbara
So far in my life, death is one thing that has had minimal impact. I could count the family members and favored pets that I've lost on one hand. Texas, a black lab mix, died when I was in first grade. Ryo-Oki, a black cat, disappeared in fourth grade, and I think I can assume he's since died. Loki (gray and white tux cat) disappeared in ninth grade, and Tyr (Maine Coon mix) in my Freshmen year of college after my mom refused to let him back in the house once I left for Delaware. Either of them may or may not still be prowling the neighborhood. (Great) Grandpa Maynard died at 90 before my Sophomore year in high school.
I find it somewhat ironic that this month, Breast Cancer Awareness month, I'm probably going to lose my Aunt Barbara to breast cancer. I don't know many of the details, but I know that she had been diagnosed late with breast cancer a few weeks ago. They don't have health insurance, so she was being treated by a doctor in Mexico relying largely on donations and fundraisers by her friends and her six sisters, and the general consensus was that she was improving. I don't know her very well, she's one of the more religious members of my family. Last I knew she had 6 children, and last time I saw her was right before her second or third miscarriage. Mom and dad were going through the divorce proceedings and in the interest of keeping us kids out of the middle, Barb offered to let us spend the summer with her in Utah.
I remember resenting her for not allowing us to do anything on Sundays except read or watch Book of Mormon Stories movies. As much as I hated that rule, I could abide by it. I spent every Sunday in my room reading, and I enjoyed it, although I would have rather been playing air hockey or making bows and arrows from sticks outside with my cousins. She was nothing if not fair. And I'm amazed at the ease with which she handled her own five children in addition to two or three of her sister's children while her husband Tony and my oldest brother Matthew (the one most likely to help her out if us younger children got unruly) spent days at a time on a semi. All this while several months pregnant, with two at home in diapers. Mark, being very close in age and getting along well with Oliver, Aunt Cheryl's oldest, spent most of that summer with him in Idaho.
Even though I feel terrible for Barb, and I know that her death will have a profound impact on a lot of people, I wouldn't include myself on that list. I didn't know her very well, I didn't grow up with her present. When we were still in California, she was already in Utah with Tony. And I loved my Grandpa Maynard, but all of my memories of visiting him barely include him. He was a great person, and I know he really cared about me, and all of his grandchildren, and I miss him some, but it's hard to really miss someone who was never really there to begin with.
I guess the point that I'm trying to make is the news of Barb's condition made me realize how lucky I am in that respect. Most of my friends have lost parents, siblings, friends (this includes animals), and/or some other important person in their life. Distance (of varying degrees), instead of death, is the only thing that separates me from the vast majority of people and animals who are or have been important to me. I can only hope it stays that way for a long time.
I find it somewhat ironic that this month, Breast Cancer Awareness month, I'm probably going to lose my Aunt Barbara to breast cancer. I don't know many of the details, but I know that she had been diagnosed late with breast cancer a few weeks ago. They don't have health insurance, so she was being treated by a doctor in Mexico relying largely on donations and fundraisers by her friends and her six sisters, and the general consensus was that she was improving. I don't know her very well, she's one of the more religious members of my family. Last I knew she had 6 children, and last time I saw her was right before her second or third miscarriage. Mom and dad were going through the divorce proceedings and in the interest of keeping us kids out of the middle, Barb offered to let us spend the summer with her in Utah.
I remember resenting her for not allowing us to do anything on Sundays except read or watch Book of Mormon Stories movies. As much as I hated that rule, I could abide by it. I spent every Sunday in my room reading, and I enjoyed it, although I would have rather been playing air hockey or making bows and arrows from sticks outside with my cousins. She was nothing if not fair. And I'm amazed at the ease with which she handled her own five children in addition to two or three of her sister's children while her husband Tony and my oldest brother Matthew (the one most likely to help her out if us younger children got unruly) spent days at a time on a semi. All this while several months pregnant, with two at home in diapers. Mark, being very close in age and getting along well with Oliver, Aunt Cheryl's oldest, spent most of that summer with him in Idaho.
Even though I feel terrible for Barb, and I know that her death will have a profound impact on a lot of people, I wouldn't include myself on that list. I didn't know her very well, I didn't grow up with her present. When we were still in California, she was already in Utah with Tony. And I loved my Grandpa Maynard, but all of my memories of visiting him barely include him. He was a great person, and I know he really cared about me, and all of his grandchildren, and I miss him some, but it's hard to really miss someone who was never really there to begin with.
I guess the point that I'm trying to make is the news of Barb's condition made me realize how lucky I am in that respect. Most of my friends have lost parents, siblings, friends (this includes animals), and/or some other important person in their life. Distance (of varying degrees), instead of death, is the only thing that separates me from the vast majority of people and animals who are or have been important to me. I can only hope it stays that way for a long time.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Politics (Oh noez)
That's right, politics. Oh, don't worry, what I have in mind for this I'd say is pretty bi-partisan. I know that my friends, and therefore the people who could be reading this, have pretty diversified views and I (for the moment at least) am not trying to stir up trouble by insulting one party or another.
Election day is coming up. Have you been following the debates? Do you know which politicians align most closely with your personal views and which ones only agree with you on the hot topics like abortion and gay rights? Let me make one request. If you don't know what most of the politicians running for a particular office advocate, please don't vote for that office. I really think there should be a political awareness test before people are allowed to vote, but that would obstruct some people's rights I guess. Whether you like Obama or not, I think we can agree that at least to some extent, a portion of his voters weren't educated about his platform, they just saw a non-white man running with a promise for change ("What kind of change you ask? I dunno, but any change is good change!") and filed in line. There were also people who jumped behind McCain because he was opposing "that radical black man" without knowing anything else about what McCain believed in. And Hilary Clinton? Forget about it. From where I'm sitting it seems like most people who voted in the primaries did so with only the knowledge that Clinton's husband may or may not have had an affair while he was president. I'm not voting, because I know that I haven't kept up with the debates. I don't even know who the incumbents (another terrible trend: voting for the incumbents because "they haven't screwed up too bad yet") are. Wouldn't you feel like an asshole if you accidentally voted for some nut job who used his/her position to support your views on abortion and gay rights (major hot topics right now, and some people actually vote based on these things alone) and also to raise taxes for your socioeconomic class and used the extra money to give him/herself a raise?
The other thing that I want to say is in regard to the facebook group letting their god know that for the purposes of dying, Obama is their favorite president. Some politicians do some really dumb stuff. Not a lot of politicians do things that they deserve to die for. Aside from being your president, who you should at least respect even if you don't like since a majority of your peers elected him, he's a father and a husband. If you don't want to him to be in office any more, tag along on the ballot with the Republican candidates who are desperately seeking something frivolous to impeach him for, but don't wish him dead. I've heard some people say that the facebook group isn't wishing for Obama's (or another powerful person, this could even apply to George Bush if there was such a group for him) death, but I can interpret no other meaning from the title of that group. Celebrate when his term is over if it suits you. To dislike him is within your right. To pray for someone's death is un-Christian. You can't ask your benevolent god to smite someone who hasn't committed any major wrong-doings against you or another demographic because it creates a logical fallacy. I've removed several people from my facebook friends list (not that they care I'm sure) for joining that group and giving me B.S. replies when I told them how I felt about it. So don't do it. >:(
Bi-partisan yes? Alright admittedly it's a little skewed, but the logic in both statements applies to all political parties. I think. What do you think?
Election day is coming up. Have you been following the debates? Do you know which politicians align most closely with your personal views and which ones only agree with you on the hot topics like abortion and gay rights? Let me make one request. If you don't know what most of the politicians running for a particular office advocate, please don't vote for that office. I really think there should be a political awareness test before people are allowed to vote, but that would obstruct some people's rights I guess. Whether you like Obama or not, I think we can agree that at least to some extent, a portion of his voters weren't educated about his platform, they just saw a non-white man running with a promise for change ("What kind of change you ask? I dunno, but any change is good change!") and filed in line. There were also people who jumped behind McCain because he was opposing "that radical black man" without knowing anything else about what McCain believed in. And Hilary Clinton? Forget about it. From where I'm sitting it seems like most people who voted in the primaries did so with only the knowledge that Clinton's husband may or may not have had an affair while he was president. I'm not voting, because I know that I haven't kept up with the debates. I don't even know who the incumbents (another terrible trend: voting for the incumbents because "they haven't screwed up too bad yet") are. Wouldn't you feel like an asshole if you accidentally voted for some nut job who used his/her position to support your views on abortion and gay rights (major hot topics right now, and some people actually vote based on these things alone) and also to raise taxes for your socioeconomic class and used the extra money to give him/herself a raise?
The other thing that I want to say is in regard to the facebook group letting their god know that for the purposes of dying, Obama is their favorite president. Some politicians do some really dumb stuff. Not a lot of politicians do things that they deserve to die for. Aside from being your president, who you should at least respect even if you don't like since a majority of your peers elected him, he's a father and a husband. If you don't want to him to be in office any more, tag along on the ballot with the Republican candidates who are desperately seeking something frivolous to impeach him for, but don't wish him dead. I've heard some people say that the facebook group isn't wishing for Obama's (or another powerful person, this could even apply to George Bush if there was such a group for him) death, but I can interpret no other meaning from the title of that group. Celebrate when his term is over if it suits you. To dislike him is within your right. To pray for someone's death is un-Christian. You can't ask your benevolent god to smite someone who hasn't committed any major wrong-doings against you or another demographic because it creates a logical fallacy. I've removed several people from my facebook friends list (not that they care I'm sure) for joining that group and giving me B.S. replies when I told them how I felt about it. So don't do it. >:(
Bi-partisan yes? Alright admittedly it's a little skewed, but the logic in both statements applies to all political parties. I think. What do you think?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The best laid plans of mice and Jen
This morning in Biochem I got a text from Franco saying that he couldn't afford to move out right now. I got through Biochem and Painting in a low-grade panic state with the fear of not being able to move out even before Christmas and the hope that we could find a cheap one bedroom for under $600 per month. Back in my room, I discovered that such a thing hardly exists, so I started looking for room shares on Craiglist. I found several, most were questionable, and Justin was almost entirely opposed to the idea. He claims we can't afford to move out right now if this is the case. He's right, and I hate it.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Moving up, on and out
Everyone at my boyfriend's house walks around on tip-toe to avoid upsetting his dad. The oils from your feet will ruin the carpet, so wear shoes or socks at all times in the house. Nobody's coming in or out of the front door anymore (he randomly changes the password to the garage entry and doesn't tell anybody). Somebody's been stealing food from the pantry (what?) so now it's locked. Lounging on the couch (leaning against the arm with your feet up on the couch) ruins the furniture, don't do it. Don't rest your socked feet against the coffee table that there's nothing on. Sitting on the furniture is ruining it, so now there's boards underneath the cushions to keep the sofa from being comfortable. No eating anywhere in the house besides the kitchen, not even a box of mike and ikes or a roll of mentos (unless you spill the box and don't clean it up, it's not even possible to make a mess with those). Buy milk, but only in gallons; The half-gallon I bought to take to my dorm and forgot in the fridge was unacceptable.
I draw the line right about the point where this being his house permits him to start yelling at me when I tell him that I was talking to Justin, not him, while he was in the other room. I'm out. Peace. Also I find it unacceptable to make fun of me for being intimidated by his volume (om nom Oklahoma stories) and that he ignores requests, polite or otherwise, for him to calm down. It's his house, he'll rage whenever he wants about whatever he wants. Actually that's not how it works. Having your name on the mortgage for a house that you're renting a portion of does NOT entitle you to verbally harass the renter.
So, today I went apartment hunting with Justin and our friend Franco. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. We figure that's all we need. And a decent enough area that Franco won't have to worry about his prized Mustang being looted. Unfortunately, it's Sunday, and a lot of places are closed.
The first place we visited was new and beautiful. A drive around the property revealed that several of the buildings were in the final stages of being built, and that the roads weren't finished yet either. The buildings were all circled around a crystal-clear pool, and the cars in the lot were all reasonably nice. The three-bedroom model was exactly what the brochure said, "Big and Bright." Unfortunately we learned rather quickly that it was a 55+ community. The receptionist said that occasionally senior communities will allow a margin of about 10% young people, but she wasn't sure that would be the case with this one. What a shame too, because none of us have a problem being quiet and respectful toward our neighbors. I'm sure it's out of our price range either way. We'll wait for a call back from the lady that may or may not come, and may or may not be good news regarding Fountainview.
We drove through a few complexes whose offices were closed, and a few that had outrageous speed bumps. The mustang actually scraped against one of the really high speed bumps, and we left that complex immediately without going in. The next place we went inside was Pine Brook, with a friendly receptionist and nice grounds. There were tons of bikes everywhere, probably indicating a lot of undergrads, a sure sign of loud parties, but the model units were good. It was on the upper end of our price range with a 15 month lease, and no dishwasher. It would be $20 extra per month to have the kitchen upgraded before we moved in. This was a concern for me, but not for the boys, who expressed content at using paper plates and bowls (*rolls eyes*). We could move in at the end of November, and Franco could bring his German Shepherd, Dozer (short for Bulldozer). Two spacious bedrooms, a bathroom and a half, and a UD bus picks up and drops off on the property. The lady assured me that we would be able to see the actual unit before signing the lease, which was comforting.
The last place we saw today was a more casual experience, we walked into the lease office and the lady told us they were having a special on their last 2 bed/1 bath unit with a 12 month lease. She took down my information and handed us the key to let us explore the actual unit that was up for rent on our own. It was half underground, with the bottom of the windowsills flush with the grass. Even from down there, the view was nice enough. The grass was maintained and at the other end there was a fence, so there would be no neighbors peering into our apartment. The first thing we really saw was the common laundry room. The sinks inside were dirty, not like "just been used" dirty, but the type of dirt that accumulates because there's something wrong with the sink and nobody's tried or been able to fix it. The washers operate on coins that you have to purchase at the rental office in rolls, and the dryers are free. For me, this wasn't a big deal. If the washer/dryer doesn't work, we can go down the road to a laundromat. Inside, the carpet was obviously freshly steamed, the living room was a little small, but that's pretty much what I had in mind. Space won't be the issue for me, price will. There was a small dining area with a really low hanging chandelier in one corner where a table was obviously intended to go. The fridge looked brand new, and the oven was clean, but the dishwasher scraped against the adjacent cabinet door. There was a ton of cabinet space. A ton. And while there was no pantry, there was a reasonably wide indention in the wall where we could put shelves of our own. The one bathroom was wide enough that two people could stand at the sink and get ready in the morning, and the faucet didn't leak when I turned it on. The first bedroom across the hall from the bathroom had a nice view out onto the eye-level lawn with a small shrub planted right in front of the window. Somebody didn't realize that shrub is going to grow to obscure all light from that window some day, but that would be Franco's room. The closet was big enough to walk into, but not quite big enough to call a walk-in closet. The master bedroom was plenty big, and the closet was HUGE. Justin and I could literally put a desk in there with a tv and a stand for the xbox/wii/PS2 and use it as a small gaming room. We half seriously dubbed it "Harry's room." You could fit a twin bed in there just fine. And most importantly, the price was right. It's a little bit below the lower end of what we were expecting per month for a 12 month lease, with heat and hot water included. I'm sold on this one, and so is Justin.
I know we need to do a little more shopping around before we dive right into something, but right now this is my top pick. I'll entertain Franco's wish to find a cheap house, and hopefully we'll tag this one before the special ends or the unit is leased to someone else.
I draw the line right about the point where this being his house permits him to start yelling at me when I tell him that I was talking to Justin, not him, while he was in the other room. I'm out. Peace. Also I find it unacceptable to make fun of me for being intimidated by his volume (om nom Oklahoma stories) and that he ignores requests, polite or otherwise, for him to calm down. It's his house, he'll rage whenever he wants about whatever he wants. Actually that's not how it works. Having your name on the mortgage for a house that you're renting a portion of does NOT entitle you to verbally harass the renter.
So, today I went apartment hunting with Justin and our friend Franco. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. We figure that's all we need. And a decent enough area that Franco won't have to worry about his prized Mustang being looted. Unfortunately, it's Sunday, and a lot of places are closed.
The first place we visited was new and beautiful. A drive around the property revealed that several of the buildings were in the final stages of being built, and that the roads weren't finished yet either. The buildings were all circled around a crystal-clear pool, and the cars in the lot were all reasonably nice. The three-bedroom model was exactly what the brochure said, "Big and Bright." Unfortunately we learned rather quickly that it was a 55+ community. The receptionist said that occasionally senior communities will allow a margin of about 10% young people, but she wasn't sure that would be the case with this one. What a shame too, because none of us have a problem being quiet and respectful toward our neighbors. I'm sure it's out of our price range either way. We'll wait for a call back from the lady that may or may not come, and may or may not be good news regarding Fountainview.
We drove through a few complexes whose offices were closed, and a few that had outrageous speed bumps. The mustang actually scraped against one of the really high speed bumps, and we left that complex immediately without going in. The next place we went inside was Pine Brook, with a friendly receptionist and nice grounds. There were tons of bikes everywhere, probably indicating a lot of undergrads, a sure sign of loud parties, but the model units were good. It was on the upper end of our price range with a 15 month lease, and no dishwasher. It would be $20 extra per month to have the kitchen upgraded before we moved in. This was a concern for me, but not for the boys, who expressed content at using paper plates and bowls (*rolls eyes*). We could move in at the end of November, and Franco could bring his German Shepherd, Dozer (short for Bulldozer). Two spacious bedrooms, a bathroom and a half, and a UD bus picks up and drops off on the property. The lady assured me that we would be able to see the actual unit before signing the lease, which was comforting.
The last place we saw today was a more casual experience, we walked into the lease office and the lady told us they were having a special on their last 2 bed/1 bath unit with a 12 month lease. She took down my information and handed us the key to let us explore the actual unit that was up for rent on our own. It was half underground, with the bottom of the windowsills flush with the grass. Even from down there, the view was nice enough. The grass was maintained and at the other end there was a fence, so there would be no neighbors peering into our apartment. The first thing we really saw was the common laundry room. The sinks inside were dirty, not like "just been used" dirty, but the type of dirt that accumulates because there's something wrong with the sink and nobody's tried or been able to fix it. The washers operate on coins that you have to purchase at the rental office in rolls, and the dryers are free. For me, this wasn't a big deal. If the washer/dryer doesn't work, we can go down the road to a laundromat. Inside, the carpet was obviously freshly steamed, the living room was a little small, but that's pretty much what I had in mind. Space won't be the issue for me, price will. There was a small dining area with a really low hanging chandelier in one corner where a table was obviously intended to go. The fridge looked brand new, and the oven was clean, but the dishwasher scraped against the adjacent cabinet door. There was a ton of cabinet space. A ton. And while there was no pantry, there was a reasonably wide indention in the wall where we could put shelves of our own. The one bathroom was wide enough that two people could stand at the sink and get ready in the morning, and the faucet didn't leak when I turned it on. The first bedroom across the hall from the bathroom had a nice view out onto the eye-level lawn with a small shrub planted right in front of the window. Somebody didn't realize that shrub is going to grow to obscure all light from that window some day, but that would be Franco's room. The closet was big enough to walk into, but not quite big enough to call a walk-in closet. The master bedroom was plenty big, and the closet was HUGE. Justin and I could literally put a desk in there with a tv and a stand for the xbox/wii/PS2 and use it as a small gaming room. We half seriously dubbed it "Harry's room." You could fit a twin bed in there just fine. And most importantly, the price was right. It's a little bit below the lower end of what we were expecting per month for a 12 month lease, with heat and hot water included. I'm sold on this one, and so is Justin.
I know we need to do a little more shopping around before we dive right into something, but right now this is my top pick. I'll entertain Franco's wish to find a cheap house, and hopefully we'll tag this one before the special ends or the unit is leased to someone else.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
(Campus) Life is a bitch #2
It's a bit more than a half mile to my assigned parking space. Yeah sure that's not very far, but consider that my last class will end at 2:15 and then I have to walk a half mile from that class to my dorm to get my laundry and anything else I want to take home for the weekend, then carry that stuff a half mile from my dorm to my car when I have to be to work by 3. It's not for lack of parking spaces. There's about 10 parking spaces immediately outside of Squire, and right across the street there's a whole parking lot that can hold around 50 cars and is never full. Ever. But those are gold pass lots, for people who commute to campus every day. Not for students who are paying through their teeth to not only go to UD but to live in the UD dorms and suffer the UD dining plan. Not for the students who have to have a car on campus to get to and from work two or three nights a week to pay for car insurance and textbooks, neither of which are covered by student loans or grants.
One way transit time between my dorm and work is right around 45 minutes, provided I don't stop and do anything else at all, like change into or out of a work shirt and round up my dirty laundry or assorted possessions. Traffic pending, which has gotten worse this semester. So, Monday mornings I wake up and put on a work shirt and pack up my laptop and its power cord and my notebooks and go to class. When classes are over I go straight to my car and make it to work at about 3, traffic pending. After work I usually go to Justin's house right down the road to hang out with him for an hour or so before I get back to campus. Then on Friday mornings I round up my laundry and anything I want to take home for the weekend and leave it infront of my closet so that when I get done with my classes I can hurry to my car, drive it back to my dorm, run in and grab my stuff and run back out hoping to get in and out before public safety notices my car in the fire lane and gives me a ticket. I'm usually a few minutes late to work on Fridays because the trip to my dorm adds at least 10 minutes.
On top of having to park in Never never land, I pay through the teeth to do it. A resident student parking pass for just one semester costs about $250. As many times as I've begged, they won't let me tack that into my student bill, so I have to factor that in to the amount I put away for textbooks/beginning of semester BS. Resident student lots are all pretty far away from the dorms and classrooms, and there's no bus running between them. I am allowed to park on South Campus, where there are buses running back and forth, but the buses can't be counted on, and they generally aren't running when I get back to campus at night. Also, waiting for the bus would take as much time as walking to my current lot. Even considering the headache with the buses, I'd be willing to ride them if I were allowed to buy the red parking pass, which is the lowest tier, making it the cheapest. Red pass users can only park on South Campus. And accordingly, a red pass only costs about $100 per semester. But I'm a resident student, so the lowest tier pass I'm allowed to buy is the green resident pass. I can always buy the better ones, $350 and up a semester, to park in almost any lot.
To top it all off, the last time I was in the parking services building, I overheard the lady at the desk talking about how Patrick Harker (UD President) is trying to move the school towards being more dependent on the buses. He wants everyone to park on South Campus or in the parking lot they're making where the Chrysler building currently is, and then ride the bus up to the Green and walk wherever they need to go from there. Now, I've got nothing against walking when I've got time, but being a college student means time is my most valuable resource. When I heard this, the girl in line ahead of me (we'd been making snarky remarks about the parking system the whole time. She had a ticket, I was getting a guest pass so that Justin could park in never never land while he visited me) said "Wow. If you find a way to have that kind of time, you let me know. I barely have time to eat breakfast in the morning." My response was "Well, if we cut sleeping out altogether, we can add about 6 hours to the day. That'll give us time to walk wherever we have to go on campus."
Summary: I have no time for these shenanigans! >:O
One way transit time between my dorm and work is right around 45 minutes, provided I don't stop and do anything else at all, like change into or out of a work shirt and round up my dirty laundry or assorted possessions. Traffic pending, which has gotten worse this semester. So, Monday mornings I wake up and put on a work shirt and pack up my laptop and its power cord and my notebooks and go to class. When classes are over I go straight to my car and make it to work at about 3, traffic pending. After work I usually go to Justin's house right down the road to hang out with him for an hour or so before I get back to campus. Then on Friday mornings I round up my laundry and anything I want to take home for the weekend and leave it infront of my closet so that when I get done with my classes I can hurry to my car, drive it back to my dorm, run in and grab my stuff and run back out hoping to get in and out before public safety notices my car in the fire lane and gives me a ticket. I'm usually a few minutes late to work on Fridays because the trip to my dorm adds at least 10 minutes.
On top of having to park in Never never land, I pay through the teeth to do it. A resident student parking pass for just one semester costs about $250. As many times as I've begged, they won't let me tack that into my student bill, so I have to factor that in to the amount I put away for textbooks/beginning of semester BS. Resident student lots are all pretty far away from the dorms and classrooms, and there's no bus running between them. I am allowed to park on South Campus, where there are buses running back and forth, but the buses can't be counted on, and they generally aren't running when I get back to campus at night. Also, waiting for the bus would take as much time as walking to my current lot. Even considering the headache with the buses, I'd be willing to ride them if I were allowed to buy the red parking pass, which is the lowest tier, making it the cheapest. Red pass users can only park on South Campus. And accordingly, a red pass only costs about $100 per semester. But I'm a resident student, so the lowest tier pass I'm allowed to buy is the green resident pass. I can always buy the better ones, $350 and up a semester, to park in almost any lot.
To top it all off, the last time I was in the parking services building, I overheard the lady at the desk talking about how Patrick Harker (UD President) is trying to move the school towards being more dependent on the buses. He wants everyone to park on South Campus or in the parking lot they're making where the Chrysler building currently is, and then ride the bus up to the Green and walk wherever they need to go from there. Now, I've got nothing against walking when I've got time, but being a college student means time is my most valuable resource. When I heard this, the girl in line ahead of me (we'd been making snarky remarks about the parking system the whole time. She had a ticket, I was getting a guest pass so that Justin could park in never never land while he visited me) said "Wow. If you find a way to have that kind of time, you let me know. I barely have time to eat breakfast in the morning." My response was "Well, if we cut sleeping out altogether, we can add about 6 hours to the day. That'll give us time to walk wherever we have to go on campus."
Summary: I have no time for these shenanigans! >:O
Monday, October 4, 2010
Conviction
Sometimes, when school gets really stressful and I'm about two inches away from throwing in the towel, shit goes down in such a way that it renews my conviction like a born-again Christian. About wanting to be a vet. In an "I'm really happy about the course of things right now even though I'm staring down three exams that I'm inevitably going to beat myself up over" sort of way. It's really not a huge deal, especially since rabbits aren't really the critters that I want to work with, but it still feels good to know that I succeeded when I was basically being told "no u".
Friday night, somewhere between washing, worming, immunizing and dying orange this litter of 5 flea-infested kittens, I walked out of kennel for a breather. As I passed Titus' cage, this guy and his little daughter walk up to me with a white baby bunny. He says "I dunno what's wrong with it, but it's not been doing well. We just bought it yesterday and, well I think it's got a broken back or something." And he passes this limp, barely alive critter off to me after I assure him that we'll honor the warranty and he and his daughter can pick out a new one while I set this one up in the back to be monitored specially. A broken back? No dude, this rabbit's not been eating and it's totally stressed out. Whoever sold you this animal better have explained to you and yours that a baby bunny needs time to itself, on the order of several hours at a time, in a quiet area of the house with a stable temperature. Unfortunately, it wouldn't surprise me if that wasn't mentioned to him. He said there was no rough handling when I asked, so how could it have broken its back? The girl who was on register that night told me I was wasting my time since it was just going to die anyway.
Anyway, I was told to put it not in fish back room, but in a kennel with a towel so that it wouldn't be forgotten about (fish guys, *eyeroll*). And I set out to put this bunny on a regiment that would hopefully give it enough energy to move around enough to feed itself. The rest of that night, I gave it a little bit of karo syrup and water every hour and chalked it up to a success if it was still breathing in the morning. So Saturday morning I walk in at 9 AM and find that my little rescue mission was successful by current parameters. Barely. Well, sugar is a good jump start and rehydrating is always important, but to do work (like breathing and pumping blood) the body needs calories. Glucose will get you part of the way, but it can't do it alone. So there's this product called Nutri-Cal, which is basically calories in a tube. How convenient.
Since the rabbit was barely hanging on at this point, I figured I couldn't do much harm by giving it a little Nutri-Cal with the karo and water. And while we're at it, let's throw in this vitamin water additive. I get a little inventive when I'm mixing things up for shortcuts and ease of use, especially when I know it's for a job I'll have to pass off to somebody else (I generally don't trust people to do a job right, with a few exceptions being the kennel manager and my boyfriend. No offense to everybody else. So if I can make it easier on someone else, I feel like I can eliminate the chances of them deciding not to do it, or just plain doing it wrong). So I mixed up a batch of karo water with vitamins. And I put enough nutri-cal in syringes to get the bunny through the day (assuming it survived), even after I would leave at 3. And I crossed my fingers. After the first dose, it perked up a bit, but still wouldn't move except as much as it took to lay down from the way I propped it up. Flatline in improvement from there until around 1. After that dose, it wobbled back and forth a little without standing up, at least putting in an effort to support itself.
I can't say how well it was handled after I left, or whether what I attempted was all that helpful, but it was great to learn via text that as of Monday afternoon, the bunny was eating hay on its own. A small victory, but a victory no less. With midterms tearing at my mental state, I'll take what I can get.
This is why I want to be a vet. Sure, every day won't be an episode of House. I know that I won't even be able to walk away from every work day and call it a success. I'll still have to deal with dumb people and dumb situations. And I know there will be times when I'm not able to do anything helpful. But I'd rather do anything it takes to help an animal than do anything at all to help an average human (obvious exceptions for particular individuals and children).
Friday night, somewhere between washing, worming, immunizing and dying orange this litter of 5 flea-infested kittens, I walked out of kennel for a breather. As I passed Titus' cage, this guy and his little daughter walk up to me with a white baby bunny. He says "I dunno what's wrong with it, but it's not been doing well. We just bought it yesterday and, well I think it's got a broken back or something." And he passes this limp, barely alive critter off to me after I assure him that we'll honor the warranty and he and his daughter can pick out a new one while I set this one up in the back to be monitored specially. A broken back? No dude, this rabbit's not been eating and it's totally stressed out. Whoever sold you this animal better have explained to you and yours that a baby bunny needs time to itself, on the order of several hours at a time, in a quiet area of the house with a stable temperature. Unfortunately, it wouldn't surprise me if that wasn't mentioned to him. He said there was no rough handling when I asked, so how could it have broken its back? The girl who was on register that night told me I was wasting my time since it was just going to die anyway.
Anyway, I was told to put it not in fish back room, but in a kennel with a towel so that it wouldn't be forgotten about (fish guys, *eyeroll*). And I set out to put this bunny on a regiment that would hopefully give it enough energy to move around enough to feed itself. The rest of that night, I gave it a little bit of karo syrup and water every hour and chalked it up to a success if it was still breathing in the morning. So Saturday morning I walk in at 9 AM and find that my little rescue mission was successful by current parameters. Barely. Well, sugar is a good jump start and rehydrating is always important, but to do work (like breathing and pumping blood) the body needs calories. Glucose will get you part of the way, but it can't do it alone. So there's this product called Nutri-Cal, which is basically calories in a tube. How convenient.
Since the rabbit was barely hanging on at this point, I figured I couldn't do much harm by giving it a little Nutri-Cal with the karo and water. And while we're at it, let's throw in this vitamin water additive. I get a little inventive when I'm mixing things up for shortcuts and ease of use, especially when I know it's for a job I'll have to pass off to somebody else (I generally don't trust people to do a job right, with a few exceptions being the kennel manager and my boyfriend. No offense to everybody else. So if I can make it easier on someone else, I feel like I can eliminate the chances of them deciding not to do it, or just plain doing it wrong). So I mixed up a batch of karo water with vitamins. And I put enough nutri-cal in syringes to get the bunny through the day (assuming it survived), even after I would leave at 3. And I crossed my fingers. After the first dose, it perked up a bit, but still wouldn't move except as much as it took to lay down from the way I propped it up. Flatline in improvement from there until around 1. After that dose, it wobbled back and forth a little without standing up, at least putting in an effort to support itself.
I can't say how well it was handled after I left, or whether what I attempted was all that helpful, but it was great to learn via text that as of Monday afternoon, the bunny was eating hay on its own. A small victory, but a victory no less. With midterms tearing at my mental state, I'll take what I can get.
This is why I want to be a vet. Sure, every day won't be an episode of House. I know that I won't even be able to walk away from every work day and call it a success. I'll still have to deal with dumb people and dumb situations. And I know there will be times when I'm not able to do anything helpful. But I'd rather do anything it takes to help an animal than do anything at all to help an average human (obvious exceptions for particular individuals and children).
(Campus) Life is a bitch #1
Dining halls, meal plans, points vs. meals. Who's idea was this and why does it continue to go so horribly? Every time the University of Delaware makes a change to their food system, it seems to piss more people off than it satisfies. So at the beginning of each semester, I can choose to arrange my dining plan in one of several ways. I can have a number of meals ranging from 24 to 10 meals allotted every week. The more meals I choose to have, the less points I get to buy snacks and on-the-go meals at various food courts and markets around campus. This whole dining plan experience is mandatory for those living on campus, and costs a chunk of change that I have no accurate number for because it's tacked in with the rest of the 17 grand I owe to UD every semester or something like that. I feel like I've heard $800 before somewhere, but don't count on it, I wouldn't be surprised if it were more. I can also, and have myself, selected a bulk number of meals for the entire semester, to use each week at my own discretion. I can eat 3 meals one week and 20 the next and not lose any for using too few or be turned away for using too many. 110 meals and 350 points this semester, that's what I chose. You can have more meals and exponentially fewer points if you want.You can also spend $$$ on stuff from the dining locales, and in that case 1 point is the same as $1.
So my first issue here is that there's no conversion factor that gives you a balanced ratio of meals to points. If you spend points to get into the dining hall, it costs around 7.50 but if you spend a meal it only takes one. However, when you're choosing how many points versus how many meals you get, every meal you trade in for points doesn't get you 7.50, it gets you closer to 4. So they're encouraging students to eat meals instead of snack or grab fast food. That's great, except 3 of the 4 dining halls have exclusive hours. Breakfast is from 7:30 to 10:30, then they close until lunch at 11:30 which lasts until 2:30 or so, then they open back up for dinner from 4:30 to 7:30. If you have blocks of classes during those time periods, good luck finding grub when they finally release you. Kent conveniently offers buffet style dining from 7:30 AM to 7:30 PM, but the quality of the food takes a hit as a result.
It used to be that if there was nothing else edible at Kent you could always grab a salad and a slice of pizza and call it dinner. For breakfast, you could always have an omelette cooked up to your preferences. But not anymore! Now the omelette station closes down at 9:30 along with the preparation of hot/fresh other items like sausage and biscuits and pancakes as they shift over to "continental breakfast". So if you're like me, and you have a class at 10 AM, you mosey on over to Kent at about 9:40 after you crawl out of the shower and discover that there's no more pancakes/french toast, what sausage or bacon is left is cold, the pastry options (muffins, danishes and sometimes donuts) are gone, and the milk dispenser is all out of whole and skim, and sometimes even chocolate for your cereal. There's always a waffle maker over by the applesauce and yogurt (which is covered in raisins/nuts by this time) but I would argue that it makes some nasty waffles. Bagels and bread are by a toaster oven type thing but they take a day and a half to toast and the topping options are dismal or contaminated like the applesauce. Some days there's still Silk to pour on your cereal but most days all that's left is Lact-Aid, and by that point you might as well just use water, or eat it dry. And dinner? In an effort to make the dining options classier, they've eliminated pizza from the menu except as an occasional entree (meaning I've seen it once this year, and there was only one slice left). Salad three nights a week gets old fast. I'm not some great food connoisseur, but I like to enjoy my food. When hot food is burnt AND cold, cold food is lukewarm, and nothing has spices of any sort (salt and pepper anyone?) then I get a little irritated.
So on the occasion that I decide to grab something to eat from one of the food courts on campus, I have a few options. I can trek all the way up to Trabant on Delaware Avenue. The Chick-fil-A inside is expensive, and so is the pizza (sort of like Sbarro) and the sub station. The sushi place isn't too bad for a small tray of rolls, but the wasabi has a tendency to bleed over into everything (do not want). A meal from any of those places inside Trabant runs around 7.50 (amazing how that works isn't it?). Perkins, right across the street from my dorm, has a Dunkin Donuts, which is cheap drinks and snacks but the sandwiches are as expensive as everything else. There's a salad bar (yay more lettuce) which ends up costing more than a burger because they sell the salad by weight, and dressing is heavy. A salad with a drink has been about 8.50 every time I've gotten one, and anything else on the menu usually gets me at around 7.50 (again). Note that when I say a meal, I'm not talking about a deluxe burger, large fries and a large fountain drink, I mean just the simple burger and a small fountain drink or bottled soda. Or the sub and a drink. No sides; they cost as much as the entree.
Even worse than all of that is the fact that I know I could EASILY take $10 and buy ingredients from Pathmark down the road to cook for myself in the conveniently located kitchens in every dorm building to last a week. EASILY. But I can't do that with my points, because there's no grocery store type markets. The closest thing is the frozen tv dinners that they sell at the markets for 6 points. A box of cereal is about 6 points, a quart of milk is about 3 points, and a bag of chips is about 5 points. And that's all they sell. Chips, ice cream, small containers of overpriced milk, various drinks, microwave dinners, donuts, cereal, candy bars, bulk candy, deodorant and condoms. If they sold cigarettes, they'd almost be like the gas station convenience store. Except the quick-e-mart sells flour, noodles and basic spices, and the Harrington Market doesn't.
So my first issue here is that there's no conversion factor that gives you a balanced ratio of meals to points. If you spend points to get into the dining hall, it costs around 7.50 but if you spend a meal it only takes one. However, when you're choosing how many points versus how many meals you get, every meal you trade in for points doesn't get you 7.50, it gets you closer to 4. So they're encouraging students to eat meals instead of snack or grab fast food. That's great, except 3 of the 4 dining halls have exclusive hours. Breakfast is from 7:30 to 10:30, then they close until lunch at 11:30 which lasts until 2:30 or so, then they open back up for dinner from 4:30 to 7:30. If you have blocks of classes during those time periods, good luck finding grub when they finally release you. Kent conveniently offers buffet style dining from 7:30 AM to 7:30 PM, but the quality of the food takes a hit as a result.
It used to be that if there was nothing else edible at Kent you could always grab a salad and a slice of pizza and call it dinner. For breakfast, you could always have an omelette cooked up to your preferences. But not anymore! Now the omelette station closes down at 9:30 along with the preparation of hot/fresh other items like sausage and biscuits and pancakes as they shift over to "continental breakfast". So if you're like me, and you have a class at 10 AM, you mosey on over to Kent at about 9:40 after you crawl out of the shower and discover that there's no more pancakes/french toast, what sausage or bacon is left is cold, the pastry options (muffins, danishes and sometimes donuts) are gone, and the milk dispenser is all out of whole and skim, and sometimes even chocolate for your cereal. There's always a waffle maker over by the applesauce and yogurt (which is covered in raisins/nuts by this time) but I would argue that it makes some nasty waffles. Bagels and bread are by a toaster oven type thing but they take a day and a half to toast and the topping options are dismal or contaminated like the applesauce. Some days there's still Silk to pour on your cereal but most days all that's left is Lact-Aid, and by that point you might as well just use water, or eat it dry. And dinner? In an effort to make the dining options classier, they've eliminated pizza from the menu except as an occasional entree (meaning I've seen it once this year, and there was only one slice left). Salad three nights a week gets old fast. I'm not some great food connoisseur, but I like to enjoy my food. When hot food is burnt AND cold, cold food is lukewarm, and nothing has spices of any sort (salt and pepper anyone?) then I get a little irritated.
So on the occasion that I decide to grab something to eat from one of the food courts on campus, I have a few options. I can trek all the way up to Trabant on Delaware Avenue. The Chick-fil-A inside is expensive, and so is the pizza (sort of like Sbarro) and the sub station. The sushi place isn't too bad for a small tray of rolls, but the wasabi has a tendency to bleed over into everything (do not want). A meal from any of those places inside Trabant runs around 7.50 (amazing how that works isn't it?). Perkins, right across the street from my dorm, has a Dunkin Donuts, which is cheap drinks and snacks but the sandwiches are as expensive as everything else. There's a salad bar (yay more lettuce) which ends up costing more than a burger because they sell the salad by weight, and dressing is heavy. A salad with a drink has been about 8.50 every time I've gotten one, and anything else on the menu usually gets me at around 7.50 (again). Note that when I say a meal, I'm not talking about a deluxe burger, large fries and a large fountain drink, I mean just the simple burger and a small fountain drink or bottled soda. Or the sub and a drink. No sides; they cost as much as the entree.
Even worse than all of that is the fact that I know I could EASILY take $10 and buy ingredients from Pathmark down the road to cook for myself in the conveniently located kitchens in every dorm building to last a week. EASILY. But I can't do that with my points, because there's no grocery store type markets. The closest thing is the frozen tv dinners that they sell at the markets for 6 points. A box of cereal is about 6 points, a quart of milk is about 3 points, and a bag of chips is about 5 points. And that's all they sell. Chips, ice cream, small containers of overpriced milk, various drinks, microwave dinners, donuts, cereal, candy bars, bulk candy, deodorant and condoms. If they sold cigarettes, they'd almost be like the gas station convenience store. Except the quick-e-mart sells flour, noodles and basic spices, and the Harrington Market doesn't.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Saint Tawny
Where does "Saint Tawny" come from? Well, I've been calling myself Tawny online for years now. Originally, I went by Kiaro, the name of my main roleplay character from AIM and Yahoo RP chat rooms. Kiaro had a friend named Mia, also played by me. Mia had five sisters and one of them was named Tawny. Apparently, there's was a semi-famous stripper by that name around the time I started playing FFXI, but that's not where I got it. In Lion King 2, Kovu has a sister (half sister maybe?) named Vitani. So I dropped the "Vi" and spelled it like it sounded to me. I also learned later that Tawny is a color, on the orange side of tan, so that's what I named my Mithra.
Right, because Tawny is the curious part about that moniker.
Before FFXI, I played an MMO called Tibia. You could probably replace the "Massively" with "minorly" and be more accurate when describing that game. If you took a classic textual multi-user dungeon (MUD) and gave it the graphics of an NES game, you'd have something like Tibia. So on Tibia I met this kid named Jack. We dated in a non-serious "We're 10 years old and don't completely know what this dating scene is all about so let's give it a try" way, and we maturely realized that we worked better as friends than we did as a couple. So we were friends with and without contact for 7-ish years, and in my senior year he and I started talking again. He told me about this religion he'd found that he thought was incredible. Discordianism.
The most important thing to know about Discordianism is that it doesn't mean anything specific. Most Discordians pay their respects to Eris, the Goddess of Discord. Since Eris is the matron deity, trying to organize this religion would be all but pointless. Actually, it would be all pointless. Instead, members are encouraged to decide upon their own meaning. Malaclypse the Younger is the figurehead of the most famous sect, the one that I most closely align with, and he puts forth a few basic guidelines. First, that every man, woman and child on this Earth is a POPE. There is an official POPE card, but one does not need to have this card to be a Pope.
The rights of a Pope include but are not necessarily limited to:
According to the Principia Discordia (the unofficial religious text of Malaclypse's sect) "Only a Pope may canonize a Saint. … So you can ordain yourself — and anyone or anything else — a Saint" ...So I did.
The wikipedia article is a good way to get your feet wet regarding Discordianism, and if you're bored you can read the Principa Discordia online in its entirety. I'm not really trying to convert you, I'm giving you this because it's worth a laugh, which is why I identify as Discordian.
Fnord.
Right, because Tawny is the curious part about that moniker.
Before FFXI, I played an MMO called Tibia. You could probably replace the "Massively" with "minorly" and be more accurate when describing that game. If you took a classic textual multi-user dungeon (MUD) and gave it the graphics of an NES game, you'd have something like Tibia. So on Tibia I met this kid named Jack. We dated in a non-serious "We're 10 years old and don't completely know what this dating scene is all about so let's give it a try" way, and we maturely realized that we worked better as friends than we did as a couple. So we were friends with and without contact for 7-ish years, and in my senior year he and I started talking again. He told me about this religion he'd found that he thought was incredible. Discordianism.
The most important thing to know about Discordianism is that it doesn't mean anything specific. Most Discordians pay their respects to Eris, the Goddess of Discord. Since Eris is the matron deity, trying to organize this religion would be all but pointless. Actually, it would be all pointless. Instead, members are encouraged to decide upon their own meaning. Malaclypse the Younger is the figurehead of the most famous sect, the one that I most closely align with, and he puts forth a few basic guidelines. First, that every man, woman and child on this Earth is a POPE. There is an official POPE card, but one does not need to have this card to be a Pope.
The rights of a Pope include but are not necessarily limited to:
- To invoke Infallibility at any time, including retroactively.
- To completely rework the Erisian church.
- To baptise, bury, and marry (with the permission of the deceased in the latter two cases).
- To excommunicate, de-ex-communicate, re-ex-communicate, and de-re-ex-communicate (no backsies!) both his-/her-/it-/them-/your-/our-/His-/Her-/It-/Them-/Your-/Our-self/selves and others (if any).
- To perform all rites and functions deemed inappropriate for a Pope of Discordia.
According to the Principia Discordia (the unofficial religious text of Malaclypse's sect) "Only a Pope may canonize a Saint. … So you can ordain yourself — and anyone or anything else — a Saint" ...So I did.
The wikipedia article is a good way to get your feet wet regarding Discordianism, and if you're bored you can read the Principa Discordia online in its entirety. I'm not really trying to convert you, I'm giving you this because it's worth a laugh, which is why I identify as Discordian.
Fnord.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Stephen Colbert
So, Colbert is pretty much my hero now. Maybe I have a controversial opinion regarding illegal immigration overall, but I think that most logical people ought to agree that we should leave the migrant workers alone. Some people whine about how they're taking jobs away from Americans, and in this shitty economy that's enough to piss anybody off. If I were applying to a vet clinic and I was turned away because they hired an illegal immigrant who would do the job for cheap and required no long term commitment from the clinic, I'd raise hell. However, that's not nearly the situation. United Farm Workers is/has been running a campaign called "Take Our Jobs Please" in response to the uproar about "those damn Mexicans stealing all our jobs." Since a lot of these workers are undocumented, they're pretty much at the mercy of their employers. They work long hours in hot fields and when they finally finish for the day it's likely that they'll never get the mud off of themselves. And even if they do, they go right back at it in the morning. Summary: The working conditions are shit.
So United Farm Workers got sick of people crying about the dirty Mexicans and gave Americans the option to end the dispute. The problem is, I wouldn't do those jobs, especially not for that pay. And I bet neither would you. Almost everyone in this country would rather bank unemployment checks or simply live on the charity of others than to put in the kind of work that these migrant workers do. This is where Stephen Colbert came in. He wanted to bring attention to the case (and get some lolz while we're at it) and he did so by spending a day working in the fields. The conclusion he drew was basically that if we didn't have these hardworking folks harvesting our crops, America would starve. 'Cause we sure as hell wouldn't do it ourselves. Colbert spoke at a congressional hearing regarding the case, which skyrocketed my opinion of him, and it sounded like a lot of congressmen were upset that a comedian was arguing this case. How dare someone famous bring this issue to the attention of the general public?
I fuckin' love you Colbert.
So United Farm Workers got sick of people crying about the dirty Mexicans and gave Americans the option to end the dispute. The problem is, I wouldn't do those jobs, especially not for that pay. And I bet neither would you. Almost everyone in this country would rather bank unemployment checks or simply live on the charity of others than to put in the kind of work that these migrant workers do. This is where Stephen Colbert came in. He wanted to bring attention to the case (and get some lolz while we're at it) and he did so by spending a day working in the fields. The conclusion he drew was basically that if we didn't have these hardworking folks harvesting our crops, America would starve. 'Cause we sure as hell wouldn't do it ourselves. Colbert spoke at a congressional hearing regarding the case, which skyrocketed my opinion of him, and it sounded like a lot of congressmen were upset that a comedian was arguing this case. How dare someone famous bring this issue to the attention of the general public?
I fuckin' love you Colbert.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
How I wound up here.
I graduated high school at the end of May 2008. Within a week, I was in Delaware, with my most necessary possessions packed into one checked bag, one carry-on and one purse. Classes would start in September. So why Delaware, and why so quickly? Well, the University of Delaware was said to have a very nice Pre-Veterinary program. My gifted ed teacher mentioned it to me once while we were discussing the colleges I should be applying to. My only real qualification was the school I went to had to be far, far away. There's hundreds of other colleges that fit. The honest answer is that I moved up here to be with my online boyfriend. Through high school I played a massive multiplayer online role playing game (MMORPG or MMO for short) called Final Fantasy XI (FFXI). Most of the guys I dated before and during high school I had met online.
I met Justin in a leveling party (kill things for experience points together with random people) and he thought I was interesting. I told him all about why thief was a great job, and basically made myself known as an elitist. I didn't remember him afterwards, but he remembered me when he saw me leveling a different job, Beastmaster, by myself. So he stopped what he was doing and helped me. We had a really rocky friendship, mostly because at the time I was dating a jealous guy who hated Justin's guts. After Jealous Guy, there was /b/-tard, and after that I was ready to date a nice guy. Like Justin. We finally made it official (online official) on June 16th, 2007.
After Christmas that year my brother Matthew and I drove aaaallll the way up to Delaware from Oklahoma in a rental car to "check out the campus." I did a really bad job fooling Matthew. He didn't want me to tell Justin which hotel we were staying in, but I sort of directed him to one that Justin had suggested. The first morning, we were scheduled to take a tour of the UD campus, and Justin didn't know he wasn't supposed to know which hotel we were at, so when we walked outside he was standing at his car, parked a few down from ours. We recognized each other but I made a point of not looking at him so that Matthew wouldn't get suspicious. He got suspicious anyway. When Justin showed up shortly behind us to the building the tour was in, Matthew remembered seeing him before and got creeped out. That's why Matthew still doesn't like Justin. Anyway, we met Justin's parents for dinner at their place, and they liked me, so they agreed to let me stay with them if I ended up going to UD. And Justin and I hit it off.
When I got my acceptance letter, it was decided. The week of graduation I bought a one-way ticket to Delaware. I took my Wii, my PS2, a stack of cds and game discs, a scrapbook Katie and Sharlotte made for me, and all the clothes I could cram into my luggage. I had $250 to last until I could find a job, which took me about two weeks. I applied to two veterinary clinics, a daycare, Safeway, K-Mart, Dairy Queen and Pet Kare. I had an interview at one of the vets, which was dismal, and at DQ, which made me fear for my future. Just as I was resigned to working another hell job in the fast food industry, I got a call back from Pet Kare. I don't always like it there, but I know how good I have it comparatively.
Now I'm a Junior in the University of Delaware's Animal Science program, living on campus on school nights and at Justin's parents's house on weekends and breaks. I'm working towards surviving college, moving out with Justin, and somehow developing a social life.
I met Justin in a leveling party (kill things for experience points together with random people) and he thought I was interesting. I told him all about why thief was a great job, and basically made myself known as an elitist. I didn't remember him afterwards, but he remembered me when he saw me leveling a different job, Beastmaster, by myself. So he stopped what he was doing and helped me. We had a really rocky friendship, mostly because at the time I was dating a jealous guy who hated Justin's guts. After Jealous Guy, there was /b/-tard, and after that I was ready to date a nice guy. Like Justin. We finally made it official (online official) on June 16th, 2007.
After Christmas that year my brother Matthew and I drove aaaallll the way up to Delaware from Oklahoma in a rental car to "check out the campus." I did a really bad job fooling Matthew. He didn't want me to tell Justin which hotel we were staying in, but I sort of directed him to one that Justin had suggested. The first morning, we were scheduled to take a tour of the UD campus, and Justin didn't know he wasn't supposed to know which hotel we were at, so when we walked outside he was standing at his car, parked a few down from ours. We recognized each other but I made a point of not looking at him so that Matthew wouldn't get suspicious. He got suspicious anyway. When Justin showed up shortly behind us to the building the tour was in, Matthew remembered seeing him before and got creeped out. That's why Matthew still doesn't like Justin. Anyway, we met Justin's parents for dinner at their place, and they liked me, so they agreed to let me stay with them if I ended up going to UD. And Justin and I hit it off.
When I got my acceptance letter, it was decided. The week of graduation I bought a one-way ticket to Delaware. I took my Wii, my PS2, a stack of cds and game discs, a scrapbook Katie and Sharlotte made for me, and all the clothes I could cram into my luggage. I had $250 to last until I could find a job, which took me about two weeks. I applied to two veterinary clinics, a daycare, Safeway, K-Mart, Dairy Queen and Pet Kare. I had an interview at one of the vets, which was dismal, and at DQ, which made me fear for my future. Just as I was resigned to working another hell job in the fast food industry, I got a call back from Pet Kare. I don't always like it there, but I know how good I have it comparatively.
Now I'm a Junior in the University of Delaware's Animal Science program, living on campus on school nights and at Justin's parents's house on weekends and breaks. I'm working towards surviving college, moving out with Justin, and somehow developing a social life.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
What's in your head?
I've tried probably 10 different times to keep a diary. The most I ever did in one was three entries. I never understood diaries.
First of all, I'd lose them. My room was a terrible terrible mess all day every day, and I had stacks of binders and books everywhere, each with a different purpose. I could only remember what a few of them were for. I used to think I wanted to be a writer, so every time I came up with a new idea for a story, I found a new binder and filled it with paper and wrote the first chapter, then I tossed it on the stack and forgot about it. Except the gray binder, I didn't lose that one until I moved out of my mom's house and into my dad's. But that wasn't a diary, it was a childish story based loosely on a roleplay story I had spent a few years developing with random people online. I loved sharing what I had written with my friends, and I like to think they enjoyed reading it. We were like 12. I also never lost the binder with my pokemon/yu-gi-oh cards, or the little spiral "journal" that I kept the cipher for my secret language in. These were things I shared.
That's the second reason I couldn't keep a diary. You aren't supposed to share diaries, right? Unless you're Anne Frank. If I wasn't planning on sharing it, why couldn't I just keep it in my head? I've been thinking about that lately, and I've lived most of my life in my head. I'm starting to wonder if this is healthy, and that's sort of what this blogging experiment is about. Other people seem to know a lot more about their friends, and share a lot more with them than I do.
My grade school counselor told me I should keep a diary because it would help me vent (a great reason) and it would help me remember things. There were a lot of things going around me that I didn't want to remember. Of course, I do remember most of them, but the details are fuzzy, and I'm actually somewhat happy about that. Beyond that, more than not wanting to remember all the details, when I read through the half-started diaries that I made through grade school and into high school, I remember sitting cross-legged on my bed with the papers infront of me, and I remember being scared or hurt or angry, and I really don't care to relive those times. That would be reason number three. I like to draw a very clear line in my life between high school and college, and just about everything on the other side of that line can rot in hell. There are a few things, people and memories I'd keep if I could, but I'd lose them too if it was a package deal.
So why am I trying to write a blog? Well, a lot has changed in my life since I moved up north. Mostly for the better. These are times I think I'll want to remember. Don't get me wrong, in high school I had some pretty good friends, and we had some pretty good times. I do miss them, but they weren't worth staying and they're not worth going back for. As cold as that sounds, I really do hope they get out of that state too, but I guess it's not as high priority for them as it was for me.
I hope this is an entertaining experience for you and me, and maybe we can sprinkle in a dose of enlightenment too.
First of all, I'd lose them. My room was a terrible terrible mess all day every day, and I had stacks of binders and books everywhere, each with a different purpose. I could only remember what a few of them were for. I used to think I wanted to be a writer, so every time I came up with a new idea for a story, I found a new binder and filled it with paper and wrote the first chapter, then I tossed it on the stack and forgot about it. Except the gray binder, I didn't lose that one until I moved out of my mom's house and into my dad's. But that wasn't a diary, it was a childish story based loosely on a roleplay story I had spent a few years developing with random people online. I loved sharing what I had written with my friends, and I like to think they enjoyed reading it. We were like 12. I also never lost the binder with my pokemon/yu-gi-oh cards, or the little spiral "journal" that I kept the cipher for my secret language in. These were things I shared.
That's the second reason I couldn't keep a diary. You aren't supposed to share diaries, right? Unless you're Anne Frank. If I wasn't planning on sharing it, why couldn't I just keep it in my head? I've been thinking about that lately, and I've lived most of my life in my head. I'm starting to wonder if this is healthy, and that's sort of what this blogging experiment is about. Other people seem to know a lot more about their friends, and share a lot more with them than I do.
My grade school counselor told me I should keep a diary because it would help me vent (a great reason) and it would help me remember things. There were a lot of things going around me that I didn't want to remember. Of course, I do remember most of them, but the details are fuzzy, and I'm actually somewhat happy about that. Beyond that, more than not wanting to remember all the details, when I read through the half-started diaries that I made through grade school and into high school, I remember sitting cross-legged on my bed with the papers infront of me, and I remember being scared or hurt or angry, and I really don't care to relive those times. That would be reason number three. I like to draw a very clear line in my life between high school and college, and just about everything on the other side of that line can rot in hell. There are a few things, people and memories I'd keep if I could, but I'd lose them too if it was a package deal.
So why am I trying to write a blog? Well, a lot has changed in my life since I moved up north. Mostly for the better. These are times I think I'll want to remember. Don't get me wrong, in high school I had some pretty good friends, and we had some pretty good times. I do miss them, but they weren't worth staying and they're not worth going back for. As cold as that sounds, I really do hope they get out of that state too, but I guess it's not as high priority for them as it was for me.
I hope this is an entertaining experience for you and me, and maybe we can sprinkle in a dose of enlightenment too.
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