Tonight I am a true hostess for the first time.
I feel like Anne of Green Gables, excited about the idea of sleeping in a spare room.
I did all the domesticky things- cleaned up the house, cleaned the kitchen, made sure the bathroom looked nice, washed sheets, re-made the bed, swept the floors... everything!
My guests are sleeping in my room and offering to cook for me. They are conversing with me in the good old way, Spanish - you can keep a conversation going into the night, about anything and everything, just enjoying one another's company. I love the sounds of spanish... making them and hearing them and having them mean something beyond just making sounds for the sake of practicing, having them mean conversation, relationship.
Having people in my house is pretty sweet.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
um... where'd the words go?
garblegarblegarble.
if tiredness were a disease, I'd be mortally ill.
I am spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Somebody please just take everything that needs doing out of my hands and tell me it will be ok, I will recover from this exhaustion in just a few days.
please?
no?
oh, right, I'm grown-up now.
...
boo, school. Just boo.
over 'n out.
E.O.
if tiredness were a disease, I'd be mortally ill.
I am spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Somebody please just take everything that needs doing out of my hands and tell me it will be ok, I will recover from this exhaustion in just a few days.
please?
no?
oh, right, I'm grown-up now.
...
boo, school. Just boo.
over 'n out.
E.O.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Burnout
Burnout makes me see better, feel more.
The more mentally exhausted I am from school, the clearer I see my surroundings.
In avoiding writing a paper, I see the amazing color and polish of a wooden chair, complete with dark flecks.
In avoiding thinking of my next assignment, I notice the intense green-on-black of trees in spring...
how the air feels soft around me like a blanket... or silky like water in a swimming pool, only exquisitely thinner.
And when I intentionally rest and refrain from doing (more) schoolwork, taking a break for the brain, I have so much love for smaller things...
like cleaning my room
standing in my kitchen and
opening a cupboard
laying on my back on the floor and just
looking around,
noticing how the light falls on things.
When I am burnt out, going grocery shopping feels like a treat; when I am burnt out going thrifting is the epitome of bliss. When my brain cannot take it anymore, it willingly and happily gives way to my body's practicality and just -
floats...
along...
floats along.
It's an oddly pleasurable state of mind, like when you've been carrying a big ol' backpack around and you take it off - for the next few seconds, the relief makes you feel almost weightless. And in these moments, I'm ok with being thoughtless... - until I realize that's unkind, and gradually my state of mind returns to normal and my thoughts return in full force, like a driving gale, pushing toward the next period of growth and travail.
But for now, I feel weightless, thoughtless, mindless... happy just to drift.
And unwilling to sit down to my next shift of schoolwork, 'cause baby, finals isn't over yet; it's hardly begun.
Cheers.
E.O.
The more mentally exhausted I am from school, the clearer I see my surroundings.
In avoiding writing a paper, I see the amazing color and polish of a wooden chair, complete with dark flecks.
In avoiding thinking of my next assignment, I notice the intense green-on-black of trees in spring...
how the air feels soft around me like a blanket... or silky like water in a swimming pool, only exquisitely thinner.
And when I intentionally rest and refrain from doing (more) schoolwork, taking a break for the brain, I have so much love for smaller things...
like cleaning my room
standing in my kitchen and
opening a cupboard
laying on my back on the floor and just
looking around,
noticing how the light falls on things.
When I am burnt out, going grocery shopping feels like a treat; when I am burnt out going thrifting is the epitome of bliss. When my brain cannot take it anymore, it willingly and happily gives way to my body's practicality and just -
floats...
along...
floats along.
It's an oddly pleasurable state of mind, like when you've been carrying a big ol' backpack around and you take it off - for the next few seconds, the relief makes you feel almost weightless. And in these moments, I'm ok with being thoughtless... - until I realize that's unkind, and gradually my state of mind returns to normal and my thoughts return in full force, like a driving gale, pushing toward the next period of growth and travail.
But for now, I feel weightless, thoughtless, mindless... happy just to drift.
And unwilling to sit down to my next shift of schoolwork, 'cause baby, finals isn't over yet; it's hardly begun.
Cheers.
E.O.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday
You have to power through the first bit of this video, but it really is a "simple but ultra powerful skit" that shows the real reason for Easter.
I like how my friend Hailey put it: "Not just another Friday funday, but a really bad day that I couldn't live without. And that makes it good."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=cyheJ480LYA
over 'n out.
E.O.
I like how my friend Hailey put it: "Not just another Friday funday, but a really bad day that I couldn't live without. And that makes it good."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=cyheJ480LYA
over 'n out.
E.O.
Monday, April 18, 2011
YES I DID
I BEASTED that second methods paper.
WOHOOOOOOO!
And they say the progression is C-B-A. HAH! In my case, it's looking like it'll be more like C-A-B - or maybe, if I really get my act together, it'll be C-A-A!
Either way, the middle is an A, and I couldn't be more pleased (or vindicated). B)
Nanny, nanny boo-boo, you can't fail me!
hehehe.
over 'n out.
E.O.
WOHOOOOOOO!
And they say the progression is C-B-A. HAH! In my case, it's looking like it'll be more like C-A-B - or maybe, if I really get my act together, it'll be C-A-A!
Either way, the middle is an A, and I couldn't be more pleased (or vindicated). B)
Nanny, nanny boo-boo, you can't fail me!
hehehe.
over 'n out.
E.O.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Oh, finals...
Have I written on here about how I don't like essay-writing?
I have?
Just imagine you're re-reading one of those posts.
Also: I know that the word chuch'e, in Korean, means independence and self-reliance, and (to North Koreans) represents all that is Korean, and putting Korean-ness before all else. I know it is a very serious word to North Koreans.
But every time I see it, I can't help thinking of the Castillian chuche, which means a piece of candy.
It's highly confusing, and, well... funny.
peace.
E.O.
I have?
Just imagine you're re-reading one of those posts.
Also: I know that the word chuch'e, in Korean, means independence and self-reliance, and (to North Koreans) represents all that is Korean, and putting Korean-ness before all else. I know it is a very serious word to North Koreans.
But every time I see it, I can't help thinking of the Castillian chuche, which means a piece of candy.
It's highly confusing, and, well... funny.
peace.
E.O.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Exasperation
Ahem.
Dear Dr. B.:
Why do you have to be such a jerk? As if it weren't enough that we have TWO big assignments to be working on (with all your little niggly requirements to think about and lots of mini-due-dates). As if you didn't KNOW, for a FACT that your precious research has shown that students tend to plateau out shortly after Spring break and then want to work the least right before finals. As if you weren't aware that we are probably fucking burnt out from your class alone, not to mention whatever else we might have going on in our lives (oh, I don't know, a minimum of two other four-credit classes that also have papers and finals and that sort of thing).
Disregarding all of that, you had to make up another assignment. And call it a game. And sugarcoat it by saying it's for extra credit and therefore, by definition, optional (as if - you know perfectly well that we're all scrambling to get as many points as possible because we have no idea how we're doing in your class since it's incredibly taxing and difficult and you won't give us our grades)*.
Nevermind that this "game" has all the hallmarks of a test - or one of those annoyingly snobby educational "puzzle" projects, where each group needs the others in order to complete their "creative" task. You present it like you are somehow under the delusion that it will be a fun and relaxing break.
I suppose I ought to be grateful there's no final exam.
But I will have you know, internet, that I am thoroughly exasperated with this woman.
Thoroughly exasperated. Not even the good mood induced in me by chips and salsa and a break for dinner & a little television is able to prevent my hitting the table in frustration.
Enough is ENOUGH. These next two weeks cannot end soon enough.
Over 'n out.
E.O.
*Oh, wait. I forgot. There's also that other assignment you gave us at the beginning of the semester. A portfolio, indicating our progress in the achievement of our goals for your class over time. Alright. Why don't I do that assignment. Right here, right now.
Eschew Obfuscation's Methods Class Portfolio, Spring 2011.
Initially, my goals were thus:
"I want to make a log for Dr. B of the mental and emotional suffering a person goes through taking her class. I don't think she realizes anymore what she's putting people through. She does not have access to the rollercoaster of these emotions because people are too scared to tell her up front that the amount of stress she causes is bizarre and cruel in its intensity. So I will document it for her."
Five minutes later, I realized she'd interpret it like this:
"You really ought to go talk to someone and strategize about how you can have more time and emotional energy for this class. We have resources for that sort of thing. This is a hands-on class, and I warned you about that at the start of the semester."
Eventually my goals became:
"Turn things in complete and on-time. Try to keep up with the readings"
Then I gave up on the readings. After that I gave up on turning all but the biggest things in complete. These days I'm trying to keep turning stuff in on time, but it's really wrecking my life.
My goals as of now:
Hang on 'til April 28th. Time will continue to pass inexorably, and somehow (miraculously, it looks like from here), the things that have to get done will get done.
Or alternately:
Turn in a complete experiment. Make some kind of poster to present. Modify this portfolio and turn it in. Participate as little as possible in the "game" without screwing myself over too much.
(or for you spanish-speakers out there, I am putting la ley del mÃnimo esfuerzo into full effect)
DO YOU SEE THE DETERIORATION??? I wake up in the morning thinking about methods. In my spare time, I try to work out problems with my project. I cannot (but canNOT) focus on the work I have for other, equally important classes. Whenever people ask me about school, I start to vent about methods the second I catch a compassionate gleam in their eye.
...ironically enough, I probably succeeded in accomplishing those goals way up there at the top, just by dint of suffering through the class.
I also began the semester determined to attempt to love Dr. B according to 1 Corinthians 13. I am not sure just how miserably I failed at that, but I'm quite positive that I did. At least I didn't sic my parents on her, like people have in the past.
over 'n out. for real this time.
E.O.
Dear Dr. B.:
Why do you have to be such a jerk? As if it weren't enough that we have TWO big assignments to be working on (with all your little niggly requirements to think about and lots of mini-due-dates). As if you didn't KNOW, for a FACT that your precious research has shown that students tend to plateau out shortly after Spring break and then want to work the least right before finals. As if you weren't aware that we are probably fucking burnt out from your class alone, not to mention whatever else we might have going on in our lives (oh, I don't know, a minimum of two other four-credit classes that also have papers and finals and that sort of thing).
Disregarding all of that, you had to make up another assignment. And call it a game. And sugarcoat it by saying it's for extra credit and therefore, by definition, optional (as if - you know perfectly well that we're all scrambling to get as many points as possible because we have no idea how we're doing in your class since it's incredibly taxing and difficult and you won't give us our grades)*.
Nevermind that this "game" has all the hallmarks of a test - or one of those annoyingly snobby educational "puzzle" projects, where each group needs the others in order to complete their "creative" task. You present it like you are somehow under the delusion that it will be a fun and relaxing break.
I suppose I ought to be grateful there's no final exam.
But I will have you know, internet, that I am thoroughly exasperated with this woman.
Thoroughly exasperated. Not even the good mood induced in me by chips and salsa and a break for dinner & a little television is able to prevent my hitting the table in frustration.
Enough is ENOUGH. These next two weeks cannot end soon enough.
Over 'n out.
E.O.
*Oh, wait. I forgot. There's also that other assignment you gave us at the beginning of the semester. A portfolio, indicating our progress in the achievement of our goals for your class over time. Alright. Why don't I do that assignment. Right here, right now.
Eschew Obfuscation's Methods Class Portfolio, Spring 2011.
Initially, my goals were thus:
- Achieve the highest grade possible on each assignment.
- Make significant steps toward mastering scientific writing.
- Deepen my knowledge of a new area of psychology.
"I want to make a log for Dr. B of the mental and emotional suffering a person goes through taking her class. I don't think she realizes anymore what she's putting people through. She does not have access to the rollercoaster of these emotions because people are too scared to tell her up front that the amount of stress she causes is bizarre and cruel in its intensity. So I will document it for her."
Five minutes later, I realized she'd interpret it like this:
"You really ought to go talk to someone and strategize about how you can have more time and emotional energy for this class. We have resources for that sort of thing. This is a hands-on class, and I warned you about that at the start of the semester."
Eventually my goals became:
"Turn things in complete and on-time. Try to keep up with the readings"
Then I gave up on the readings. After that I gave up on turning all but the biggest things in complete. These days I'm trying to keep turning stuff in on time, but it's really wrecking my life.
My goals as of now:
Hang on 'til April 28th. Time will continue to pass inexorably, and somehow (miraculously, it looks like from here), the things that have to get done will get done.
Or alternately:
Turn in a complete experiment. Make some kind of poster to present. Modify this portfolio and turn it in. Participate as little as possible in the "game" without screwing myself over too much.
(or for you spanish-speakers out there, I am putting la ley del mÃnimo esfuerzo into full effect)
DO YOU SEE THE DETERIORATION??? I wake up in the morning thinking about methods. In my spare time, I try to work out problems with my project. I cannot (but canNOT) focus on the work I have for other, equally important classes. Whenever people ask me about school, I start to vent about methods the second I catch a compassionate gleam in their eye.
...ironically enough, I probably succeeded in accomplishing those goals way up there at the top, just by dint of suffering through the class.
I also began the semester determined to attempt to love Dr. B according to 1 Corinthians 13. I am not sure just how miserably I failed at that, but I'm quite positive that I did. At least I didn't sic my parents on her, like people have in the past.
over 'n out. for real this time.
E.O.
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