I just don't get men. Well, let's be frank, and say I don't get most women, either. At what point do people stop playing games? I don't say things I don't mean, don't do things that I don't want to (well, okay, there are some things I do even when I don't want to, but that's because a roof over my head is a good thing), and don't like it when other people play games.
So why is it that the only man I know who doesn't play games can't get a decent relationship to save his life? What is so terrifying about a guy who treats his dates well, is financially and emotionally stable, and is honest, open, and straightforward? What is it about that that makes women run the other way? Hell, if there was even an inkling of a spark between us, I'd be on that like white on rice. (Sadly, there isn't...not a lick...and in some ways, that really sucks, but what can you do?)
And why is it that women I know who are constructed beyond belief (fake nails, hair color, boobs, tan, etc) and dumber than a box of rocks can't fend the guys off fast enough, while I and other women I know can't get a date? I'm not horrifyingly ugly or morbidly obese, I have a kick ass sense of humor and some killer hair, and yet...dateless for 3 years. And other women I know are in the same boat.
I don't usually go in for pity parties, but damn. I'm getting kinda tired of the bullshit that seems to have replaced real human relationships.
18 August 2008
25 July 2008
Brilliant Thinking (dripping with sarcasm)
So, I'm in bed sleeping. And what comes along at 10 to 4 this morning, to wake me up? Oh, yeah, a leafblower. Right outside my bedroom window. Did it not occur to any of the highly intelligent and well-paid (okay, over-paid) people in the administration that people who live here might be sleeping?
Some 1400 acres of grounds to keep, and they have to do this space in the middle of the night? You know, I try to be okay with this sort of thing. I really do. I'm not happy about being awoken by lawnmowers at 8 on a Wednesday, or by the lovely new construction right across the street that is apparently going to be starting at 7 a.m., but okay, things happen and we have to deal.
But leafblowers at 4 in the morning? Yeah, no, sorry, *really* not okay. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, that's just downright rude, and uncalled for. I sent a pissy email...hope it doesn't bite me in the ass!
Some 1400 acres of grounds to keep, and they have to do this space in the middle of the night? You know, I try to be okay with this sort of thing. I really do. I'm not happy about being awoken by lawnmowers at 8 on a Wednesday, or by the lovely new construction right across the street that is apparently going to be starting at 7 a.m., but okay, things happen and we have to deal.
But leafblowers at 4 in the morning? Yeah, no, sorry, *really* not okay. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, that's just downright rude, and uncalled for. I sent a pissy email...hope it doesn't bite me in the ass!
14 July 2008
Customer Service? What's that?!
Gods and goddesses, but the IRS is incompetent. After many hours on the phone, I finally got my refund. But so many other people haven't. Sorry, but they ARRESTED the guy who stole our information from the insurance company...shouldn't the fact that it is now beyond the shadow of a doubt that we are victims of a crime have ANY bearing on getting our money?
Oh no, says the IRS. We have to make sure that the person in Texas who filed isn't really you. Huh. Let's be honest about this. Look at my W2s. For the last six years I've been working at the same damned places, all within 25 miles of -- oh yeah -- the same address. In California. And yet you seem to think that because someone filed taxes on my behalf in Texas, that person might be me, even though I still live and work in California, as evinced by the agent who planted her ass on my couch? The neat, orderly files of taxes for the last 7 years I pulled out from the filing cabinet? The copies of my driver's license, Social Security card, student ID, military ID? Is it not enough for you? What more do you want?
And can I get a copy of the fraudulent taxes? OH NO. But they're in MY name. Why can't I have a copy of the taxes you say I may have filed? Why not? Technically, according to you, that's me. So it's my stuff. So why can't I have them? And who the hell are you to tell me I can't?
"The coordinating office is the Laguna Nigel office." Direct quote from one of the special agents (I'm being nice...I won't use names...yet) But when you call the Laguna Nigel office, they say they have no idea what I'm talking about. The case agent for the 163 cases at UCI doesn't return my calls...hell, she doesn't return the Chief of Police's calls.
And just one more thing...why is it that so many of my friends haven't gotten their refunds? How come I haven't gotten my stimulus check? I mean, hello...you accepted who I am enough to give me my refund, but not my stimulus check? How, exactly, does that make sense to you?
Customer service my ass.
Oh no, says the IRS. We have to make sure that the person in Texas who filed isn't really you. Huh. Let's be honest about this. Look at my W2s. For the last six years I've been working at the same damned places, all within 25 miles of -- oh yeah -- the same address. In California. And yet you seem to think that because someone filed taxes on my behalf in Texas, that person might be me, even though I still live and work in California, as evinced by the agent who planted her ass on my couch? The neat, orderly files of taxes for the last 7 years I pulled out from the filing cabinet? The copies of my driver's license, Social Security card, student ID, military ID? Is it not enough for you? What more do you want?
And can I get a copy of the fraudulent taxes? OH NO. But they're in MY name. Why can't I have a copy of the taxes you say I may have filed? Why not? Technically, according to you, that's me. So it's my stuff. So why can't I have them? And who the hell are you to tell me I can't?
"The coordinating office is the Laguna Nigel office." Direct quote from one of the special agents (I'm being nice...I won't use names...yet) But when you call the Laguna Nigel office, they say they have no idea what I'm talking about. The case agent for the 163 cases at UCI doesn't return my calls...hell, she doesn't return the Chief of Police's calls.
And just one more thing...why is it that so many of my friends haven't gotten their refunds? How come I haven't gotten my stimulus check? I mean, hello...you accepted who I am enough to give me my refund, but not my stimulus check? How, exactly, does that make sense to you?
Customer service my ass.
06 July 2008
Entitlement Sucks
I wrote this for facebook, but liked it so much I decided to put it here, too, for when I get sick of facebook and all its cheezy applications.
__________________________________________________
Okay, maybe I'm a luddite, or maybe I'm finally feeling my age (gasp!), but the July issue of O Magazine (you know, the one with Oprah on every cover) has an article about "helicopter parents" -- the ones who hover over their children and live vicariously over them.
Gods and Goddesses help me, but I can't help but feel throughly disgusted with these parents. Since when does a 24 year old need his mother to come clean his dorm room and do his laundry?! And since when does a parent call a company recruiter to get his or her (the article focused on mothers) child an internship? When I was 18, I would have been MORTIFIED if my mother had called a potential employer to extol my virtues. Simply mortified.
But, it does help explain the emails I get from students demanding I regrade their work. Not based on anything substantial, mind you, but because they themselves "don't feel like I deserved a C." It has become my mantra to state, over and over, that "I don't give grades, you earn them." And yet I feel somewhat besieged by this idea that *their* opinion of their work matters more than my own. Never mind that there is a rubric, attached to every paper, that clearly states exactly how the grade was earned. I don't grade based on how well I like or dislike a student -- in fact, on tests, I deliberately turn all the blue book covers over, so that I don't know whose test I'm grading until I'm done with it. (There have been times when the student who doesn't show up, or who falls asleep in class, has done extraordinarily well, and it galls me, but they earned that A.)
Okay, I feel a little bit better, but really, can we get some sanity here? FERPA matters. And so does the integrity of the academy. Grade inflation is rampant, and the amount of work it takes to flunk a student makes everyone want to avoid it. When C work gets an A, what does that really say about the world? I would rather be the professor who gives REAL grades, whom the great students love and those with a sense of entitlement hate, than compromise learning. If that makes my ratings on ratemyprofessor go down, so be it. At least I know that I stand for something.
__________________________________________________
Okay, maybe I'm a luddite, or maybe I'm finally feeling my age (gasp!), but the July issue of O Magazine (you know, the one with Oprah on every cover) has an article about "helicopter parents" -- the ones who hover over their children and live vicariously over them.
Gods and Goddesses help me, but I can't help but feel throughly disgusted with these parents. Since when does a 24 year old need his mother to come clean his dorm room and do his laundry?! And since when does a parent call a company recruiter to get his or her (the article focused on mothers) child an internship? When I was 18, I would have been MORTIFIED if my mother had called a potential employer to extol my virtues. Simply mortified.
But, it does help explain the emails I get from students demanding I regrade their work. Not based on anything substantial, mind you, but because they themselves "don't feel like I deserved a C." It has become my mantra to state, over and over, that "I don't give grades, you earn them." And yet I feel somewhat besieged by this idea that *their* opinion of their work matters more than my own. Never mind that there is a rubric, attached to every paper, that clearly states exactly how the grade was earned. I don't grade based on how well I like or dislike a student -- in fact, on tests, I deliberately turn all the blue book covers over, so that I don't know whose test I'm grading until I'm done with it. (There have been times when the student who doesn't show up, or who falls asleep in class, has done extraordinarily well, and it galls me, but they earned that A.)
Okay, I feel a little bit better, but really, can we get some sanity here? FERPA matters. And so does the integrity of the academy. Grade inflation is rampant, and the amount of work it takes to flunk a student makes everyone want to avoid it. When C work gets an A, what does that really say about the world? I would rather be the professor who gives REAL grades, whom the great students love and those with a sense of entitlement hate, than compromise learning. If that makes my ratings on ratemyprofessor go down, so be it. At least I know that I stand for something.
02 July 2008
Some Days are Like That
I enjoyed today. I wrote, I had lunch with Danielle (man, I'd forgotten how much fun that girl could be!) and dropped an insanely large amount of money (for me, anyway) on clothes. But really, when you find something you love, you should buy it.
And buy it I did.
Pants that make my ass look fabulous. A shirt that works for the beach, a fancy dinner, or for those times when my upper arms just say "COVER ME!" (not that they actually talk, mind you. Just saying).
Now, I have a kitten to strangle -- or give ear drops to -- of course, she sees them as the same thing. Ear mites suck.
And buy it I did.
Pants that make my ass look fabulous. A shirt that works for the beach, a fancy dinner, or for those times when my upper arms just say "COVER ME!" (not that they actually talk, mind you. Just saying).
Now, I have a kitten to strangle -- or give ear drops to -- of course, she sees them as the same thing. Ear mites suck.
13 June 2008
Turning 40
Funny, I don't feel old. Nope, not a day older than yesterday. But somehow, I'm getting the feeling other people think I've somehow reached this "thing" and now, well, I'm old.
Okay, I lied. I do feel a bit old, since my back has decided to go belly-up on me (how's that for mixing the metaphor? Yikes!). But I still had fun at Disneyland with D, and I still like chocolate mousse. And I'm still here, damnit.
Okay, I lied. I do feel a bit old, since my back has decided to go belly-up on me (how's that for mixing the metaphor? Yikes!). But I still had fun at Disneyland with D, and I still like chocolate mousse. And I'm still here, damnit.
15 May 2008
Good Heavens, that's frightening!
You know, it's really frightening when you go to a meeting with the various and sundry folk who are supposed to be in charge of graduate students, and find out that they know less than you do.
For example, since when did becoming Doc2A automatically become "not in good standing"? Guess what, it doesn't mean that. But that's what the school of Humanities thought, so guess what? No HOT for me (or for others) and no summer teaching for us, either.
And why is it that I know where $$ comes from better than deans? I mean, if I know the "head count" money -- meaning the per student $$ that the campus gets -- comes from the Legislature, how come an associate dean thinks it comes from UCOP? Why am I better versed in UC funding than a dean? I mean, really.
Good news, normative time still means something, regardless of Doc2A status. Bad news, I'm telling them where they're wrong. Somehow, this does not bode well for the state of graduate education, methinks...
For example, since when did becoming Doc2A automatically become "not in good standing"? Guess what, it doesn't mean that. But that's what the school of Humanities thought, so guess what? No HOT for me (or for others) and no summer teaching for us, either.
And why is it that I know where $$ comes from better than deans? I mean, if I know the "head count" money -- meaning the per student $$ that the campus gets -- comes from the Legislature, how come an associate dean thinks it comes from UCOP? Why am I better versed in UC funding than a dean? I mean, really.
Good news, normative time still means something, regardless of Doc2A status. Bad news, I'm telling them where they're wrong. Somehow, this does not bode well for the state of graduate education, methinks...
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