It's Alive!

Yep, I'm still alive and kickin'. Why has it been so long? Suffice it to say that I'm a bit busy these days.

This semester I'm taking a 4-credit research methods course for Psych, which is really interesting and I'm learning a lot, but it is time-consuming to boot. Thank goodness that it's what I want to do with my life and that I really do want to learn the material, or else it would be reaaaaaaaaally boring.

In addition to that, I'm taking a history of rock and roll class, which I thought would be a less intensive class to pair with psych. I was wrong. <rant> This class is tedious and annoying. The grading is not only entirely subjective (on papers, anyway), but we are graded against one another. Seriously. Here's an excerpt from an email our instructor sent:

"[Your papers] are read and graded subjectively based on the stated expectations listed in the Syllabus. INART instructors are not obligated to furnish graded papers, which would be nearly impossible given the time constraints. 

Additionally, your writing is graded on its own quality along with how it stacks up compared to others in this section. You may write a perfectly acceptable paper on Chuck Berry. Many other students might write one on that same subject. The better versions will get the higher grades. There are not a lot of A+ papers. They have to be REALLY GOOD and I know them when I read them. The median grade is usually B-/B+ for acceptable, but not especially memorable papers. Those papers make their case but may not offer especially interesting or thought provoking support. I usually hear from students that tell me they put effort into the writing, answered the question, and followed my instructions. That may be true, but it does not necessarily guarantee the highest grades. Someone may have said the same thing better."

So, I don't get any feedback on my paper (I can ask for a "quick recap" of why he graded the way he did), and I'm graded against everyone else. So if there happens to be another paper that chose a similar argument to make (these are primarily position papers) and our instructor likes that paper better, I get a lower score, even though I followed all instructions and met all criteria. Grand.

Oh, and how could I possibly forget that some of the quiz questions are subjective, too? I got a True/False question wrong on my first quiz. The question read something along the lines of "Rock and roll is clearly the combination of blah, blah..." I marked it True, because our book said that several music historians and experts believed that it was a combo of whatever. It was supposed to be False, apparently, because it wasn't "clear" enough. Really? Pretty sure that's subjective, and if a bunch of experts in the field believe it to be true, that's "clear" enough for me. But hey, that's cool. Feel free to completely brush me off when I write an email about this and asking whether or not future questions would also be subjective.

OK, OK. I know I'm being a whiny bitch. But I was really looking forward to this class. Don't get me wrong... I do enjoy the music we get to listen to and I love learning the history behind certain songs or musicians, but I don't feel like the quizzes (2/3 of my final grade, BTW) really measure what I've learned, or that the papers (the other 1/3 of my grade) are graded to reflect my understanding of the topic and material. This isn't a writing class; the syllabus specifically says that. And yet... Ugh. </rant>

Anywhoozles, any "free" time I have that doesn't involve work or school has pretty much been taken up with Uncharted 3 (a game on the PS3), reading (I'm on the third book of the Game of Thrones series aka "A Song of Ice and Fire" series) or sleeping. I've gotten out to do a few fun things. Like last weekend we went to the Pet Expo and I got to meet Wallace the Pitbull. And later this week we're going to a hockey game. And before the semester started, Hubby, Maxine and I went up to Door County for a long weekend (you can see/vote for some of my pictures from that trip at Capture Door County).

Spring break is in 3 weeks, and while we're not doing anything so exciting as last year's Disney trip, it will be so nice to have a whole week without homework. Hubby and I are even taking a day off of work together. Partly because we're getting a new fridge delivered (YAY!), but mostly because my weekends are pretty full of homework, so we need a day together to just relax. Can. Not. Wait.

Well, I suppose I should get back to my busy life. 

Weeeee.

Rant: Bitches Be Crazy

I just got back from a quick trip to Las Vegas to spend time with my sisters. I had a lot of fun and got to take a nice break from school AND work at the same time (a rare thing these days). There were awesome people, awesome meals, and awesome sites, but one thing that sucked was the flight home.

K and S dropped me off near security and I headed on in. Thankfully, I didn't have to do the full body scanner, just a good old metal detector.  Phew! I grabbed some snackage and a Coke and found a nice spot to chill for awhile.

I had paid an extra $10 to board early (instead of being in Zone 5 or whatever, I got to board with Zones 1 and 2, even though I was in 24F). I met a nice guy who saw I was reading A Game Of Thrones and suggested some other books for me, and then I settled into my nice window seat. 

The couple who sat next to me were among the last to get on the plane. The gentleman (24D) on the aisle was (by my estimates) probably around 50 years old. He looked and sounded smart and polite, and seemed pretty laid back. The woman in the middle seat (24E) looked younger (maybe mid-thirties?), but she pretty much fell asleep (cuddling with the man; I assume they're married or at least dating) as soon as we took off, so I didn't think anything of her. I just kept reading.

I got a Coke on the first round of drinks, but 24E missed it because she had been sleeping. She got something on the second round, and while trying to set it down, sloshed some liquid and ice on to the tray. She almost dropped it completely, but 24D was able to help her out a bit. Some liquid hit me, and the most I heard was a mumbled half-apology that I think was aimed at the attendant (who was trying to help clean it up) but I decided that hey, shit happens. I let it go.

When the flight attendants came back through for garbage, 24E asked if she could get another drink because she had missed the first round. She ordered a vodka and tonic, and the attendant told her to hit the call button if she forgot to bring it.  About 5 minutes passed, and 24E hit the call button. Along came the vodka and tonic. Another 5 minutes or so and the drink was gone. 

At some point here, she went looking for a pen in her purse and couldn't find one. She turned and asked me if I had a pen in my purse, to which I replied, "I don't, I'm sorry." (It wasn't even for her; her friend across the aisle wanted to do a crossword puzzle.) Shortly after, she hit her call button again. Since nothing happened (she gave it probably a whole 3 minutes or so), she hit the button again to turn it off, and AGAIN to turn it back on. What did she need so badly? Another vodka and tonic. ("Not that I need one!" she told told the attendant, as she sloshed some more liquid onto her tray.)

Quick break to let you know that during the flight, I had a headache. I alternated between reading and laying back with my eyes closed to fight off the pain, and I kept my window shade down so I didn't have sun in my eyes. OK. Back to the story.

We had about an hour left in our 3 hour flight, and 24E sloshed her drink again. This time, a decent amount hit me right on the leg and it was icy cold. Still no apology, so at this point, I'm a bit annoyed, but whatever. Back to my book.

And that's when it all went downhill.

24E turned to 24D and said (loudly), "Next time, I want a window seat. Whenever we fly, one of us should have the window seat!" I hear that. That's why I request a window seat; I like to be on the inside so I can lean on the plane and control the window shade. Understood.

For the last 45 minutes or so of the flight, that's all she talked about. Loudly. She complained to 24D (who told her, "it's not that simple" to which she replied, "oh yes it is!") several times. She shifted around to look out the window of 25F behind me, stating that she couldn't see out her window. She kept asking the row behind us about how close we were to the ground, and asking what they could see, since she couldn't see anything. It was pretty damn obvious that she wanted me to open my shade, but she never actually addressed me (aside from the pen inquiry).

I was about ready to just open the damn thing so I didn't have to hear her complain anymore until this happened.

24E: "Next time I want a window seat! One of us has to have the window seat. I can't see anything!"

24D: "OK, but I can't do anything about it. Stop yelling at me."

24E (twisting around to try to look out 25F's window again): "I know, I'm not yelling at you. I'm indirectly yelling at someone else!"

So, in case you haven't realized, I'm the someone else she was indirectly yelling at. Once again, she never addressed me directly. She never once said, "Excuse me, I'd really like to see out the window. Could you open your shade?" or "Can I check the view?" or even "Hey! Open the shade!" It was all a bunch of passive-aggressive statements said to others around me. That's when I decided there was no way I was opening that shade.

I read until we landed. While we were waiting to get off the plane, 24E started getting all sorts of belligerent. "Oh my God! The people up front had like twenty fucking minutes to get their shit out from overhead! Come on! We're from Wisconsin, we're not that stupid!" Um, really? Because as best I could tell, people got up to grab their stuff as soon as the seat belt sign went off, which is the earliest you're really allowed to do so. Twenty minutes? Not so much. She kept yelling things like that. Even on the way out of the plane. ("We're back in Wisconsin! Fuck you, Las Vegas!")

I was proud of myself for being the bigger person and not saying anything on the plane. I also felt like I had done the right thing by not opening my shade. I had selected the window seat on purpose and no one ever asked me to open it. What's done was done.

Until I was walking through the terminal to get to baggage, and from behind me I hear, "...and I couldn't see anything 'cause she wouldn't open the fucking window!" 

Done.

I whipped around and yelled, "You never actually asked me to open it!" She pointed and yelled, "It was you!" as I turned back around.  "Yep. It was me."

To my back she said, "You heard me say it like 5 times!" So I turned back again.

"Yes, but you never asked me to open it. Had you asked me to open it, I probably would have, but you never asked me to." She had the decency to at least look a bit taken aback or (could it be?) a little ashamed. I turned back around and hauled ass to Baggage. 

Thank god Hubby was there right away. On the way to the car, I told him about the experience, almost crying because I was so frustrated and upset. I've never sat next to someone so rude and obviously passive-aggressive as this woman was. I had been able to bite my tongue through the flight. Never mind that I got spilled on. Twice. Never mind that she was CLEARLY trying to goad me into opening my shade for her. I let it all go. But bitching about it in the airport after all was said and done? That was the last straw.

Hubby says I did the right thing and not to dwell on it. I'm not dwelling, but I am reflecting and I agree. I did nothing wrong. I don't work for her or take orders from her. I don't have to open my window shade because she wants to see how far up we are (which, btw, is almost impossible from the middle seat anyway, because I sure as hell wasn't going to let her lean over me; I was reading!). I was never addressed, so I never acted. Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.

So, if you're out there, 24E, I'm sorry you couldn't see out the window. But next time, either get a damn window seat, or think about asking someone directly if you can see out their window (just because you're in a row, it doesn't make it your window), rather than being a passive-aggressive tuna* who thinks the world revolves around her every desire. You're old enough to know better, bitch.

*My alternative for the 'C' word.

So You're Going To A Concert...

I was recently asked what my concert "rules" would be.  After some thought, the following are some suggestions I have to help make everyone's concert-going experience a bit better.

• If you're going to show up late, make sure you do so appropriately.  At concert venues like The Rave in Milwaukee, it's not really a problem to show up late.  People often move around to visit the bars, check out merch and whatnot, so it's not much of a disturbance.  Just be aware that you may not get the best view of the stage.  If you're attending a concert with assigned seats or visiting a nicer/less informal venue, try to be a bit stealthier.  Or, at minimum, make sure your entrance doesn't sound like a herd of elephants running from a giant pack of rodents.
• Dress appropriately.  I remember getting dressed up (in some sense) for concerts when I was younger, so I get it.  But seriously?  Consider a few things when dressing for a concert:
• No matter what you wear, the likelihood that the artist is going to see you and fall madly in love with you is slim to none.  It's nice to dream, but reality has to kick in sometime, kids.
• You have to deal with whatever you choose to wear.  If it's 20 degrees outside and you're dressed up in a mini skirt and heels, I don't want to hear you complaining that it's cold.  (Of course it's cold!  Did you think you were going to be magically transported from your car into the venue?  Doubtful.)  Also, if you dress like a skank and get hit on all night, don't act surprised or grossed out.  You wanted the attention, you got it.  Basically, the moral is: You chose it, you live with it.  Period.
• Hats are OK if you plan to stay toward the back of the crowd, but otherwise, just leave it at home.  You might think it makes you look cool or fit in with the crowd, but odds are someone is going to secretly hate you because your hat is blocking their view.  This goes for big hair, also.  
• Being drunk is fine; being drunk and obnoxious is not.  I have no problem if you want to get a bit drunk and listen to some awesome music.  Have fun!  But once you reach the point of obnoxious, take my advice and stay by the bar.  If you start screaming, dry humping, bumping into people, etc, the likelihood that you're going home short a few teeth is going to increase.  Most of us paid to see the show.  If our experience is ruined because you just had to push your limits, we might just push back.  And if you're really so horny that you have to get it on RIGHT NOW, take it to your car.
• If you aren't interested in the show, shut the hell up.  Maybe you're bored because you don't know the opening act or because you're "forced" to be there as a chaperone for your teenie-boppers.  It happens, I get it.  But that does NOT mean that you should try to have a full-blown conversation above the music.  Here's a shocker: People around you might actually be interested in what's going on!  I'm not saying everyone should be silent, but shouting to one another about the mundane details of your life isn't going to endear you to anyone.
• As a side note to this, phone conversations at a concert aren't only rude, they're pointless.  The person on the other end of the convo probably can't understand what you're saying or hear you over the music/crowd/etc.  If your phone rings and you HAVE to answer, step into a stairway or something.  Shouting, "What?!  WHAT?!" into your phone is just as disruptive as shouting at the person next to you.
• Last, but not least: Be appreciative.  Don't take any concert for granted; you never know if you'll get the opportunity again!  Artists are busy, and they have a lot of places they'd like to (or have to) be, but right then and there, they are playing for you.  Soak it in!  If you can't appreciate the work that goes into shows, then you're better off watching DVD specials and youtube clips.

What are your concert-going rules?  Anything vital that I missed?  Let me know!

World Wide Waste of Time

Thank you, Diablo Cody, for that new meaning of WWW (and thank you Kelly for suggesting I read Candy Girl...  I'm really enjoying it so far!).

So, I frequent one of those sites that hosts all sorts of random games (for free, or for paid membership).  I'm a sucker for a good puzzle game.  Or, pretty much any game really...  I like games!

What I don't like is the chat feature on the SIDE of the game.  Yes, I know, I can minimize the chat.  I often do.  But then I can't see the progress I'm making toward certain goals, and then I get sad, etc etc.  

Recently, I saw a conversation between two members where one was seemingly "hurt" because some woman he had been talking to via the site refused to send him a photo of herself.  The other member commented on how "weird" that was, and how this other woman seemed nice, but something was clearly off.

Seriously?  I had to minimize the chat because I had several theories on why someone wouldn't send a photo, and didn't want to get into it at the time.  However, let me offer some of those theories here:

1) Maybe she is self conscious.  This is probably the most over-looked explanation out there.  I know I would be hesitant to send a photo of myself to a stranger.  What if he expected me to be hotter?  Or thinner?  Or have longer hair?  Or whatever?  I'd rather he just keep whatever pleasant image he has of me in his mind and continue talking to me, rather than judging me based on my appearance and throwing everything else out the window because I don't match what he already has imagined me to be.

2) Maybe she lied.  Another obvious reason... People lie on the internet.  Maybe she's not 5'9 and blonde like she said.  Maybe she's 5'2, morbidly obese and has lost all her teeth.  Clearly she wouldn't want to send a picture, as this would give herself away.  Duh.

3) Maybe she's a he.  Along those same lines, maybe SHE isn't a SHE after all.  Maybe HE just wanted some companionship, and knew that (sadly) most men in chat rooms are just looking for female attention.

4) Maybe she doesn't have any recent photos.  Maybe she's lost 30 pounds since the last one and doesn't want you to see her the way she no longer sees herself.  Maybe she doesn't have a good picture from the past 5 years and doesn't want to give you the impression that she's lying about her age.  Just saying; these things happen.

5) Maybe she just doesn't want to send a picture.  Even if she's been perfectly honest, has self esteem up the wazoo, etc...  Doesn't mean she wants to send you a picture.  Maybe she doesn't want to play into your perverted sexual fantasies by sending you a picture so you can get every imagined detail right.  Maybe she was annoyed because you asked so many times for a picture.  Maybe she just doesn't care.  

Many explanations are pretty harmless, really.  They range from the simple to the incredulous, but each has meaning to someone.  The internet has given us all a blank mask.  We can choose who we want to be at any given point.  It's an exciting, but terrifying, reality.  

I won't lie.  I've been duped.  Bad.  So I really, truly understand not wanting to send photos of yourself to someone you'll likely never even meet.  Maybe it's best that we all just live in our imaginations online and ground ourselves more firmly in the reality of the world around us.

Pipe dreams, right?  Oh well.