computer issues

I find it hard to get on the computer and be productive. I always want to get on msn, or facebook, or hulu, and chill out. So though the computer has programs for paper writing and correcting, researching, studying, taking notes, and a myriad of other things, I find myself drawn automatically to the pursuit of time-wastery (yes, i just used a made-up word) starting with e-mail.
Only when almost all sources of entertainment (including blogging... should be working NOW) have been exhausted do I turn my mind to other, more pressing matters. Why is this? Argh.
Self-control. That's what I'll be practicing for the next little while.
Tschüss!

Bookplate-Pasting Thoughts

23-9-08
People often think I'm oblivious when I'm not, which can be very useful. On the other hand, people also tend to think that I know things when I don't, which can be anything from inconvenient to disastrous, depending on how much they think I know.
-----
(After stamping a book w/an author named Andrew)
If Andrew ever writes a book, I will laugh my head off- and then congratulate him profusely.

24-9-08
Blessed are the forgetful,
for they shall not be
burdened with their past.
...or with strange, senseless seeming successions of numbers. (i'm pretty sure i meant call numbers here)

25-9-08
Many people think that they are good listeners. They think this because people often tell them their problems and/or life stories. This is such a widespread phenomena that there's a comic about it. However, I have watched and listened to (not to mention overheard. ;) ) a lot of people, and my experience is that, if you define a good listener as someone who cares about the person they are listening to and their problems, most people are actually not very good at it at all. So do these alleged listeners really get dumped on because they are good listeners, or is it because our culture makes us good talkers? I think it is the latter. We dump on everyone. We exchange stories as a way of relating to each other. But if a person doesn't have their own tales to contribute, or if they seem sufficiently sympathetic, then things change. Often a person will end up telling someone their life story, without ascertaining, first, if that someone even cares or wants to hear it. It's more about the talking than the listening.
From a completely different angle, I also think that we are bad listeners. If we were good listeners, even despite the fact that people were dumping on us, we would care, not complain.

Confessions

I think there are a couple things I need to admit to myself... just admit, not pore over. But not ignore either.
- the idea of a permanent and perfect "home" almost brought me to tears last week.
- i depend on certain people, good friends, to be my real social interaction, instead of looking for that where i am
- i have refused to do much/any work this week because i would much rather hide from the fact of my current existence.
and there you have it.
these are the things i have been hiding from, but which lurk in the back of my consciousness. you can laugh at them. they are probably funny to someone with different values from mine, or different experiences.
it's just a fact i have to live with... though i call "home" wherever my bed and stuff happen to be at the moment (even if that's a hotel)
i don't have a home. i probably never will.
over 'n out.

Professors & Students

So my college's website has this restricted-access page that profs can't access, where students can say whatever they want about classes, teachers, teaching styles, etc. I have explored it a couple times now, looking for other peoples' impressions on the classes I'm taking and to see what I can expect from my professors. The funny thing is, if you believed everything on this website, you'd think all the professors here were absolutely TERRIBLE. They grade hard. They are erratic. They don't lecture. They arrive late to class. They don't give you enough time to make up your work. They forget to correct your papers or grade them. Almost everybody has something to vent about. The most common phrase in there is "DO NOT TAKE THIS PROFESSOR"- or similar. My theory is that you have to gage the amount of negativity in the post... and translate from there.
The fact is that after school in Europe, I'm used to bizarre professors. At least, in the countries I and some of my friends have experience with, strange behavior from professors is the norm. They throw chalk at you, pick a student for their own personal vendetta, make fun of you in class, expose and laugh at the mistakes in your assignments for all to hear, tell you to act stupider so you won't get ahead of the class.... you name it, it's probably happened. You learn, in time, to work around these quirks. You learn to avoid them or make use of them, or just let things roll off your back and try to get a good grade. Usually if you use your head, you end up getting along just fine, and having some great stories to tell later. So when I talked to someone yesterday and they started complaining about how the prof only likes guys, and how hard she grades, etc. all I could do was laugh inside. As far as I can tell, this prof is pretty decent, no gender discrimination. She grades hard, yes, but she teaches grammar- so is that really such a surprise?
The way I see it, professors are people (no one will dispute me that, I think) and as people, they have their own peculiarities. What point is there in being so self-absorbed you don't try to understand them and work with them? It will only hurt your grade, and make you miserable.
Please, self-absorbed student. Look up. Look around. There's a world out there around you. With more important things in it than whether everyone else does things exactly the way you want them to. Learn to love a little. Cut people some slack and let them be people.
over 'n out.

Careless

College students are some of the most careless people, as regards stuff, that I have ever met. Well, excepting toddlers. Still, I'm not going there right now. See, I've been walking around campus for about two weeks now, and I keep finding things people have lost: about 10 hair ties, 8 pens, 2 pencils, a necklace, a blackberry (yeah, the phone), lip-balm, and a key, among other things. What's even more interesting though, is that I also tend to find the people these things belong to. Not the pens and pencils, but the necklace turned out to belong to my RA, the blackberry to a guy standing on the sidewalk talking to his mother, and one of the hair ties to my best friend.
How do these things happen? Why does no-one else see? Makes me wonder if anyone but me has noticed the weirdly strong cobwebs that grow all over the holly bushes....
over 'n out!
the slightly-more-observant person

P for Procrastination

Well, that is what I'm doing now and what I've done all weekend. Alternately worked on the easy stuff and procrastinated the hard stuff. Now I'm blogging in the hopes of regaining my focus...
hah. I'm off to amuse myself elsewhere....
tschüβ, mein Lektor. Hoffentlich geht dein Tag besser als meiner...
(p.s.: my German skills have taken a rapid turn for the better lately, though. ;) )

New School, New Reputation

You know how it is... you go somewhere new, you have the chance to start all over again- be whoever you want to be, unbound by the persona people knew in your old environment. It can be a wonderful and liberating experience. The only downside is that reputations are formed very, very quickly, so you have to stay on your toes. Sometimes it takes only a first impression to start your reputation- and no matter how hard you try, it only sticks the harder.
So it seems to be with my class in Jewish Studies. The first day, I was having a little trouble finding the classroom we were supposed to meet in. Eventually, though, I made it to the right room, opened the door, and peeked in. I was expecting an empty classroom, or maybe one or two people- but to my dismay and embarrassment, the conference table was full! And they all looked older than me.... So I guessed it was another class that hadn't finished yet. I stood outside and meandered around the hall, waiting for them to come out (my class didn't start for another 5 minutes or so). After a while, a short, bearded, mediterranean-looking man entered the room and closed the door behind him. Oh shoot! I realized what was going on, and quick stepped in after him."Is this the Freshman Seminar?" "Yes," someone said. "Whew, Yes! I AM in the right place!" And I sat down. Then this week (the next class after the one I forgot to attend- yeah, it was JS), people started giving oral presentations on various disciplines connected with Archaeology- which is all fine and dandy, don't get me wrong. I sat there taking notes and applauding with the best of them. The guy who had done neumismatics (fascinating, stuff. The study of ancient types of currency.) and the professor called the next person up. Yeah, you guessed it. "Miss Davenport will now tell us all about papyrology."
If you've ever seen (or heard the expression) a deer in the headlights, you'll have a fair picture of my face at that moment. I made some lame excuse about not being aware of the assignment... and mercifully he continued on to the next person. Apparently these oral assignments had been posted on the class' online bulletin board... which I was sure I had checked. Hah.
Still, all's well that ends well, I suppose. I get to present next time... and if you're a praying person, you could pray for me as you laugh and imagine what on earth I'll forget next. Hopefully I'll remember to- wait, no. I'm not going to jinx myself with possibilities! :P
over 'n out.

Campanera

Ah, the absentminded professor... maybe that's not the job for me after all. You know how sometimes you can get an idea in your head and it just sticks, for some reason? Happens to me all the time. Like yesterday, I was talking to my aunt (which always puts me in a fluster- especially when she's in a hurry and I'm not answering fast enough) and she wanted to know when my first class was today, 'cause we were going to try and meet up (because of course I forgot my thermos at home- there's that elephant's memory again). So I took a quick look at my calendar and told her: 12:50.
Then today I woke up, the idea clearly in my head that my first class was at 12:50 and planning to get some work done before then. I went to breakfast with a friend from down the hall, and came back to finish the HW (very. frustrating. homework.). I worked diligently until about 12:10, at which point I was (happily) interrupted by another girl who wanted to go to lunch. I declined, saying my first class was soon and I had to finish up. Still, since I had stopped working, I decided to check the calendar and see when and where my second class would be. But lo! Apparently, I had made a mistake... above the 12:50 class was (piffle!!) the word "Wednesday". Which meant that the class I was supposed to attend was in the previous column... and had taken place at 10:00! And just to put some icing on the cake (for cakes are only so-so without that touch of sugar) the other class I was supposed to be in was over too- it had been at 11:40.
So here I sit, a hardworking campanera.
Do absentminded professors skip class? I think not...
over 'n out.