Enganst

I was reading over the syllabus for my English class and I found something that pissed me off.

"Exams, discussion questions/ responses, and homework will receive a numeric grade, but all papers and presentations will receive a letter grade, the point-value of which is listed below: A 95, A- 92, B+ 88, B 85, B- 82.. F 59"

Did you notice there's no A+ 100 in there? That's because there's no such thing as a perfect paper (or apparently presentation)! There are a 15 point paper and a 15 presentation. So if I get MAXIMUM points on both of those I still automatically still lose .5 points on my FINAL grade. I'm trying my best to salvage points after a horrific test and a misunderstanding of the attendance policy! No, but go ahead and dock any rounding factor I had. Let's all just round down this go around! No, really it's cool! I understand this is how you save English as a language. Lord knows if kids thought they were getting 100 points on their work instead of 95 points, there's be no point to life as we know it all hell would break lose! Bitch, I hope I get the chance to round down you tax return... because, you know, you technically get so much... but... the system probably might have an error in your favor... so we'll fix that for you. Just to make sure you know how the world works. Isn't learning fun?

I think English teachers do the 'no perfect paper' thing in an attempt to pretend that they aren't the ones determining what good English is. Like there's some all mighty God of English papers that looks down when they leave a stack on the alter at sunset and etches red letter grades in lighting bolts down from heaven as a form of judgement. 'I can't say that your paper is perfect', they're saying, 'because in the grand scheme of things no English paper is really PERFECT.'
Bitch, in the grande scheme of things, when I sign up for this class, I'm promised an OPPORTUNITY to score 100 out of 100 possible points. I know you grade the paper and you personal opinion may resonate with some techniques more than others. I'm writing a paper for your class to be read by you. If you feel like I deserve full credit for fully completing an assignment then I deserve full fucking credit!!

The Fall Atmosphere!!

I'm in a fantastic mood today. It could because I woke up freezing cold. I love cold, why the hell do I live in a small midwestern Texas town? I've been asking myself that a lot a lot lately. The weather is a big part of it. Would I be terrible to say that social atmosphere is another part? Probably. I'd also probably be incorrect. I know that eventually I'll have to accept the fact that people are pretty universal, especially when they're all put under the same laws. Even if I move up north I doubt some things will change, in fact when I think about it logically I'm sure of it. Realizing that is probably some part of growing up.

If growing up means that I'll reconcile everything I've ever wanted out of life, I'll remain a fool forever.

Ardisleeplessness

I hate it when I procrastinate and end up having to pull an all nighter over an assignment that's dumb and not even all that hard. You'd think I'd have learned by now to always get things done ahead of time! I guess I should be glad at least that now I at least get it done in time, regardless of exactly how much sleep I loose in the process.

Forecast

I went dragging Benny around campus today; I love these cold fronts moving though. They never last long, but they are heavenly none the less. They remind me that I want to move northward. Ahhh, I can't wait until I'm away from Texas heat...

Nature Lover

This morning was beautiful. It was the kind of day that made me happy to be outside and walking around. I went up to a tree and just wanted to hug it, strongly embrace it in my arms! But that would have been slightly embarrassing with everyone watching. Instead I leaned by it, opening up a channel of mutual support. The tree supported me just as I supported it and we gazed blissfully together into the cold gentle wind. Then unable to restrain myself I reached a little lower. I don't think there's anything too weird about grabbing a tree.

Grim Fish

I gave Grim a burial at pond today in near by John Crompton Park. He died of an infection that started in his left eye, but eventually began spreading elsewhere. I remember I got him my second day back at TAMUG for my sophomore fall semester; I bought him at Walmart and when I brought him home to his 10 gallon tank and turned on the light he sank right to the bottom and leaned against the glass mortified. I was sure he was going to die the first couple of days I had him, which lead me to naming him Grim. He slowly over the course of the week (mostly during which his tank light was kept off) he got more active and lively. It wasn't long before he grew to needing a larger tank. When I did my awesome semester of Calculus I where I got an A after getting Ds in PreCal and the first time I took Cal 1, he floated around his tank on my desk and intently watched me do homework. Oscar fish are always said to be somewhat smarter than other fish and are renowned for having personalities; I don't know about fish intelligence, but Grim definitely had personality. I had to move him home once and he jumped out of the tank while I was changing water. I scooped him up off the floor to put him back in the tank and he bit me with his big boney, toothless fish jaws. He never tried to jump out of the tank ever again. After I left Galveston I moved him to College Station, first in an apartment, then we lived alone for a while, then we moved through another apartment before settling in the current one. He got so big that fish nets and bags were no longer possible modes of transportation, I had to carry him in a bucket. I took a lot of pride in how large and healthy Grim grew up to be, so it was really difficult for me when he got sick because of me and slowly but surely died over the course of 2 weeks. Some days he looked so much better and some days he looked so much worse. All together he lived a good 5 years and I'd like to think that most of the time he was a happy fish. The apartment feels a lot more lonely without him.

You're Wrong, But You're Right.

I've always looked up to my parents in a lot of ways. It took me leaving home to compare how strong they are to a lot of other people. I'm grateful of the one definite thing they managed to give me: a wide base of love and worth. That very thing has made some things hard these past two years. They might be outstanding, exceptional people, but they aren't perfect. They were wrong about a lot of things. And even then they were at least partially right about some of the things they were wrong on. I'm not sure exactly how I can have some conversations with them, but on some level knowing they love me trumps the need to even have them in the first place. Love and living are tricky like that.

March on to Your Crazy Tune

I can't speak for anyone else, but for me there always seems to be a divide between the individual (me) and the society. I'm not talking about ideals. Ideals are by their definition are unrealistic; they're perfect. I'm talking about the actual expectations, actions, feelings of culture, all those things and more rolled into one. A lot of them are created by majorities (even majorities of minorities) and I'd be lying if there wasn't a very distinct stark line between what that culture expects before it offers rewards of success and what I'm willing to give it. I imagine this type of thing is generic enough to be applied to a lot of people and situations. It doesn't answer really answer those feelings though. No one really wants to be an outsider, but if compromising to fit to society is impossible, then you have to find your own stride. That's a message that's as old as children's stories but something that a lot of so called adults forget: March on... to your own crazy tune.

Chi Chi Chi Chia!

I've decisively given up on shaving since the past week. With what little testosterone I have pumping I've managed to puff out an extremely irritating misshapen fuzz. I don't have to tell you it looks terrible. You can probably just imagine and that'll get you halfway there. But the good thing about looking terrible up front is that you don't have to worry too much about much else. Something that pretty much repels any kind of social interaction leaves me comfortably reserved. Plus I like to think of it kind of like a ChiaPet, the hedgehog one (because the head shaped one was stupid), only I don't have to water it, trim it, or leave it out in the sun. I pretty much just scratch and run my fingers along my chin stubble thoughtfully. Yeah, that's the stuff.

Measureablely Learned

I took my first English exam today. I think I did okay with the exception of a fill in the blank section. Our professor, one of the most energetic and engaging professors I think I may have ever had, put a fill in the blank section on our exam because she felt it required students to actually have the tested information in their brains completely with full comprehension. Multiple choice questions only tested recognition, not cognition, and our class period isn't even an hour, making it far too short to have essays that aren't incomprehensible paper-vomit.

I agree with her that multiple choice questions only scratch the surface of actual comprehension. In a way, I'm always a little sad when professors rely on them so much for so called 'higher learning'. But at the same time I think fill in the blank questions are pretty bunky too. I lost somewhere between 16 and 20 points on questions that I feel like I comprehended everything but the verbatim word blurped out of the sentence. I don't like it. And then again at the same time, I can't think of any real way I could test students if I was a teacher, that would guarantee that they were comprehending and capable of using anything I was testing them on... forget only having 50 minutes to do it in. I would hope that teachers get studies and whatnot on what people say is the most effective... if I had to teach this conundrum would drive me bonkers.

Moose Eye View

When you were a kid, did you ever make your own TV or radio stations? Make line ups? Etc.. etc... well I can tell you that was an act of pure boredom. I find myself in immense boredom, so I made something almost as well thought out: another blog. Check out LeafWheels on Blogger; I plan on updating it once or twice a day with random internet things. Don't expect too much effort or originality, and definitely don't expect any analysis.

A birds eye view gives you the scope of everything, it puts things in perspective. The opposite could be a mouse's eye view giving you insight to the gritty workings under the floor and between the walls. This new blog is neither of those things.

Intermittent with the randomness, I'm adding several internet series. While technically you can jump ahead by following the web sites, that's boring and you're likely to watch most of it all at once in an unappreciative marathon. Save yourself from yourself!

The A&M Water Polo Game

I went to a water polo game today! A&M hosted a club tournament. They competed their team against other schools' teams most of today continuing through tomorrow. It's been 4 years since I played and probably 3 years since I even watched a game, so I was surprised at how much I instantly got into the game. Everything, terms, lingo, strategy, experiences, all came rushing back during the first quarter. I wish there were more water polo games around to watch. I kind of want to play some again, although I'm still so hopelessly out of shape. It's something to work towards though. =)

In terms of the game itself, things were pretty one-sided. The game was A&M's team vs. UT's B team. I forget the exact score, but A&M had a 15 point lead which constitutes one count of rape. I think if I ever have kids in sports, I'm going to be an annoying parent to deal with. I kept wanting to tell them 'tighten up', 'drive!', 'someone cut to the side and give the goalie someone to pass to!' Yeah, I'm probably going to be that asshole...

Getting Well Soon

My animals don't like me much these days. Grim has an infection, so I'm changing out his tank water and trying to get him to eat. He doesn't care for most things though. I can't blame him, his right eye looks like hell.
For some reason the flea bombing failed more than usual. Right after we got back we were still finding fleas in the carpet. I'm hoping those are just chance hatchers. I'm trying to crack down on them, I gave Trolly and Norman their first bath a few days ago. They hated it, it was the most pitiful thing you could imagine. Trolly was too small to get out of the tub, so she just stood in the water sudds up and shaking with this expresion that said 'Dear god, why are you doing this to me?!" Norman is big enough to jump out once he gets his front claws latched on the edge, so I had to push his feet back when he started scratching up the side. He's a little more simple, it was more of 'Okay, I want to get out... Okay, I want to get out... Okay, I" over and over again. I felt terrible but then I saw little flea specks drifting off of them and going down the drain. At least it largely worked. I've been monkey-grooming them for fleas every day since. They don't like being held down or the flea comb. Trolly is now terrified of me picking her up. I think Norman's too dumb to remember anything past 30 seconds, so at least he still loves me.

Bascially, I'm a terrible pet owner in general at the momment.