Worky Work, Busy Bee!!

I am absolutely covered over with stuff at the moment. I just passed the crisis point, however, about two hours ago. So, as a reward, I decided to waste some time blogging about it.

Midterms are ridiculous on a graduate teaching assistant. Not only do we have 44 portfolios to assign midterm grades to, but I had 44 separate essays to grade, because their second major paper came due at the same time. Top that off with the fact that my presentation script for one of my own classes is due tonight. But I got the grading done in a marathon that would make a Greek proud. And my presentation is largely a load of bull (how can you present on something you haven't written yet?!), but it came out at nine pages (TUE, I don't even want to hear you. I'm buying the rounds tonight anyway!).

The nonprofit has been crazy as well. We have a wrestling tournament on Sunday, and the office has been getting backed up as we take care of all the last minute details for that. That ought to be a fun time, though, if only in a mockworthy way. These little backwoods shows are for great stars who have fallen from the sky. We got Tracy Smothers and The Maestro coming. They used to be champions in their day.

Tracy Smothers:

A different wrestler, Bobby Eaton. He sort of looks like Sean Hannity with a blonde wig, *guffaw*:

Ain't they scary??

This is gonna make a great blog for Sunday night! Mainly, though, I just want a vacation.


Is it over yet?

-- Virgil

Student Excuses

I really need to go over to Rate Your Students and enter something. That site keeps me sane while I'm teaching. What I would probably post about would be the excuses I've gotten from students for various issues that've come up for them.

Everybody has what we jokingly call the "my grandmother died" excuse. Sometimes that really happens, but most of the time it doesn't. And it's a great excuse, because only a hardened asshole will ask for proof of that. I just usually say, "You get three absences for free. Doesn't matter what the excuse is. After that, it'll affect your grade." Here are some of my favorites thus far--note, all grammar concerns are intentionally left in:

I wanted to let you know why I have missed class on Friday and Monday. This past weekend I got hit in my face with a sled from a little kid. Ever since then I've had a nonstop headache. The headache had gotten so bad that I was on my knees begging to be taken to the hospital. I had a spinal tap and anything and everything else. They have found blood in my spinal tap, therefore I am not free from further tests.

Am I being too suspicious if I ask for the spinal tap proof? Because that's really weird. She came to class grimacing, so maybe it happened, maybe it didn't.

Here's one telling me why he didn't make the meeting that we'd had to set up for yet the fourth time because he missed all the other ones:

Okay my bad, I had a rough Thirsty Thursday... If it works out for you
Monday around 11.30 I PROMISE I'll be there this time.

This particular student kept me two hours past the time when I could've left and done more productive things elsewhere, only to have to give up on him 15 minutes after he was supposed to show up.

Here's a lovely one complaining to me about why having cancelled class for bad weather really sucked for him:

this snow day really puts me in a hard place, i was actually going to sign up for my conference on wednesday so that it would be possible for me to go home for the weekend. now that we have peer review on monday instead of friday, it is really screwing me over, is there something else i could do so that i still get credit for it?

Um, yeah, I'll take your weekend into consideration next time I'm judging the hazards of driving on ice.

Here's one from a student who completely missed her turn on an assignment that I told her about face to face after class:

We did discuss it briefly, but I guess it was just brought to my
attention at last minute so I was caught off guard. I knew the
assignment, I just wasn't sure when to e-mail it to you. You may of
told me when to do so, so I do realize I may be at fault so I will
deal with the consequences but please let me know if a chance comes up
to make up for it.

This was after I explained it to her thoroughly, she said she understood, I told her to email it to me when she was finished, and I still fail to see my fault in this screw up.

But one of my favorites was from a student last semester who was highly disappointed that he had gotten a "D" in the class (A "D" in this class means you have to take it over). The grammar alone delights me:

How did I get a D that is impossible. I do not understand how that is
possible you said you would not remove my absence points if I did not
miss again. I also started talking more. Please get back to me very soon.

As he astutely observed in his own grammatically bizarre way, I didn't take his absences into consideration. He had five, which would have put him at a D anyway. By "talking more," I believe the young man is refering to "participation," which I had to explain to him did not qualify as talking to your friends. He thought one of his papers deserved an A because I had said it was "the best paper he'd done in this class." Which was true. I then had to explain to him that just because it was his best paper didn't mean it was an "A" paper.

Ah, cold, hard reality.

-- Virgil

Sigh...To Be So Young And Naive

I met with a former student of mine recently to go over his work from last year, which pretty much just turned into a bullshitting session. He is perhaps one of the most conservative students I've had, and I actually had to step in and prevent a near heated argument between him and another student in my class over the New York Times, for godssake.

He really disappoints me in a lot of ways. He's really bright, he's a decent writer, and generally a nice guy. But let politics creep in, and he's so irrational. I realize that reveals my bias away from the conservative side, but I don't care. I've heard enough of the arguments they make to realize that they are incredibly irrational.

Somehow the topic of conversation turned to global warming. He says, "I just can't believe that my SUV causes global warming."

"Can't or don't want to?" Slips out of my mouth. He just sort of looks at me noncomprehendingly. "You believe in pollution, right?" Still stares. If he was in question, I had plans to walk him down to the bottom of the building and show him the trash on the street.

Why can't we take precautions against things, rather like a vaccination against a known killer, rather than wait until we're dying of the disease to go see the doctor and have our treatment options greatly reduced? A buddy of mine on a forum used the great example of being in the middle of open combat. If someone is firing at you, are you going to wait until you can verify their height, weight, dogtags, regiment number, make of the tank they're driving, how much fuel it has left, all of the ammo he has left, etc. (and I'm paraphrasing his example) before you do something about it? Or are you going to fire back and at the very least take cover somewhere? After all, I guess you can't really know whether or not he really means to kill you, can you?

I don't see how the debate about warming is much different from the debate about pollution. It's bad. Noxious fumes from cars are bad. Garbage is bad. Why not try to reduce the impact? Where's the harm in that?

It seems to me that those who don't want to do anything about global warming do so for very selfish reasons, because it just seems to make sense that you'd want to not, you know, wreck the Earth, and stuff. I hope my student at least thought of that when he took the public transportation that returned him to the parking lot where he keeps his SUV in front of his dorm hall.

-- Virgil

I Just Don't Fit In Anywhere!

As you may remember, I recently joined the Feminist branch of my university. I've had several interesting meetings about The Vagina Monologues, a Take Back The Night march up fraternity row, tabling for health care and many other things. I like my little group. Sort of.

The problem is, I can't keep my mouth shut. I know some won't view that as a problem, but it generally tends to keep me in hot water. I've come to accept it as a basic function of my personality, and I think I'm not particularly rude or hateful about it. I just state my opinion. Or, when things are particularly galling, I rail against something.

I think I'm sort of the black sheep of the feminist group right now. I don't seem to be able to agree with them on too many things. Most of the time, it's because I think they're a little short sighted. They may be a university group, but they can't seem to see beyond the Student Center sometimes. Typical example of how it happens:

Me: You know, one of the things we could do is make sure that all the pharmacies have Plan B stocked, so that women have access to emergency contraception in this county.
Charismatic Club Leader: University health services has it available for $10.
Me: If you're the spouse of someone at the university, you don't have access to university health services. Or if you're a woman in general in Mon County who is not a college student. What if university students who don't live in the dorms want to go to a pharmacy that is more private in the part of the county they live in?
*Crickets chirp and strange stares ensue*

This is one small example. Recently, we've butted heads on two items not related to each other: Hillary Clinton and the use of the word "cunt". See, we have a discussion after every meeting on some preordained topic picked by the Charismatic Club Leader. For one meeting, it was "Hillary '08: Can She Win?"

Apparently I fail as a feminist because I really don't like Hillary Clinton that much. Boy, that brought the hammer down. I had five people trying to tell me at once that she was a wonderful person and would be a wonderful leader. I don't like how she voted on Iraq. I don't think she's so stupid to have believed that Iraq was a real threat to our country. Most regular non-senator people I talked to didn't believe that even when the "intelligence" was laid out. Most non-senator people I know were in favor of more inspections, at least at first.

I was told she had to play politics and prove that a woman could run a military. What the hell difference does it make in saying that about a Republican candidate--that he played politics, he's really such a nice man in private, so concerned about feminist issues, he just can't say those too loudly, because he has to be electable first?

So I called shenanigans. If a woman is going to be voted in solely based on the fact that being a woman gives her some kind of unique perception (which was also one of the arguments I got, although we would never say the same thing about a man), then she damn well better be a loud and proud feminist. She needs to make issues like childcare, healthcare, family leave, equal pay, abortion access and a whole other list of "nonpressing" issues seem like very, very pressing issues.

Otherwise, I'm going to vote for who I think would be the best leader to provide for those issues. And I don't care for her very much. And I don't think it makes me less of a feminist to say so. We don't want men to judge us based solely on our genitals--I don't see why I should be expected to look at women with the same idea.

I also got out of line for suggesting that "cunt" should not be made into a mainstream word of "power", like some homosexuals use "fag" and some blacks use "nigger." I don't think those words give any empowerment at all, other than to those few who actually use them amongst their friends. They are hate words and should die out like hate should die out.

If Charasmatic Club Leader called me a "cuntrag", no matter how affectionately, I'd probably treat her like I would a man who called me that--I'd punch her. Having actually been called cunt in a nonaffectionate way, I can tell you it would pain and hurt me to hear women taking it on as if it was somehow empowering. Why take on the language of the abuser? Why not kill it out and make new language of your own?

I don't seem to fit in anywhere. At least after I finished my rant on the "cunt" discussion, though, five other people said nearly simultaneously, "Me Too!"

-- Virgil

P.S. I don't want this to turn into a Hillary or feminist bashing or favoring contest, please. I'm just stating my simple opinion, of which, I might add, I'm entitled to hold.

"I'ma Holla Atcha, Bitch, Canya Hear Me??"

The above is a reference to Dave Chapelle's show, where he's got an older man who can say "hollahollaholla" incredibly fast. It's really funny, and I tried to YouTube it, but unfortunately, the copyright crap has kicked in, and I can't. The above is also in reference to a recent nonprofit experience I had where I ended up just not being able to take it anymore.

Now, I fully appreciate the annoyance of having people call you from the state troopers association or the DARE program or any number of non-or-seminonprofits wanting you to donate money during dinner time. But they aren't telemarketers or anything, and you can always say "No", politely, of course, and then tell them "Bye," or even better, "Have a great night." They won't hate you for it. They fully expect to get one yes for every 10 no's. And they aren't trying to make a buck off of you, they're trying to sustain a program that you'd probably be worse off as a community for not having around. But still, I can appreciate the irritation of the winter fund drive.

This, however, was no fund drive. It was called a Thank-a-thon, and it was where the United Way called everyone who donated to them and personally thanked them for their donation. It was an act of kindness and appreciation. How often do you get a letter or some sort of personal thank you for the money you send in? Not often. So, my job was to go down the list of people and say the script (which panicked me for 3 seconds because of my old call-center days) and thank them and get off the phone. I think I called 104 people in two hours. ::pant::pant:: Most people seemed astonished and pleased to be thanked. It was a warm, fuzzy moment.

I only had three people hang up. And it was because they assumed I was going to ask for money. By the end of the night, the third hang up just pushed me over the edge. Let us call her Carol, for that was her first name.

I call Carol and Carol's teenaged son answers the phone. I ask for Carol. He asks who I am. "I'm Virgil, with the United Way." A scuffle ensues. I hear Carol bitching about the following:

"I gave at work! Dammit, you give them your information once and they'll just hound you for money over and over again! Well, I don't want to talk to her. NO! Hang up on her!"

Click.

Oh, hell, no.

I'm tired. I'm cranky. I've been blabbing nonstop for two hours. I get through the last two calls of my shift, and I decide I'm calling Carol back. I was filled with wicked glee.

I call Carol back. This time her old man answers the phone, fairly gruffly, I might add.

"Yes, is Carol there?"
"Who is this?" Scruff McGruff says.
"This is Virgil with the United Way. I believe we got cut off." Silence. "I was just calling to thank her for her donation through her workplace. We are calling each person who donated tonight to thank them personally. We really appreciate the spirit and the attitude of her donation, and we are very, very grateful." Silence.
"So, could you pass that on to Carol? I'd really appreciate it."
"Umm...sure." Meek McGeek replies.
"Thank you. You have a great night."
Exit Stage Left.

Bitch, please. I'm trying to thank your sorry ass here. Shut up and listen. Better yet, grow some balls, Carol, and answer your own fucking calls.

It made my night.

-- Virgil

Susan B. Anthony Day Report

In a fit of patriotism I accomplished the following things on SBA Day.

Jeering Heterosexual Norms & Expectations

I don't think I actually got around to any of this on a personal level, unfortunately. I'm sure it could've been helped along with some beers, but I didn't have the time.

Those who need a big dose of SBA Day

Not having the time to diagnose the locals who need a big dose of SBA Day was disappointing. What I did find, though, was a case of sexism surrounding something my feminists are actually involved in. We're putting on The Vagina Monologues next week. Apparently, 'tis the time to do such things the nation over, because one idiot complained that the word "vagina" was too explicit, and had the name changed to, of all things, The HooHaa Monologues.

Sounds like that woman needs a ticket to a front row seat.

Apparently this Atlantic City woman felt "offended" that she had to explain to her neice what a vagina was. She doesn't know already??!!?111÷!?

Damn, my son knew all the parts, because he got all hung up on the fact that he thought women had penises, they just fell off. (A different story there, I may tell you sometime.) He was probably 3 years old. You better believe he got an education quick! He sure as hell knew all the names for his own parts. I can understand not getting into an indepth conversation about the parts of the opposite sex when they're little (unless they pull a Dante), but not to even know your own???

I mean, what the fuck? Vagina is a normal word. Hell, there are even feminists who complain that we should be saying "vulva" because that's what most of us are really referring to instead of "vagina." Seems this woman is wa-ay behind that curve. If you have to call your own genitals a "hoohaa", and sadly, I've seen more cases of women who do have to refer to it that way, you need a gigantic dose of both the monologues and SBA Day.

Consider yourself mocked.

What I Did To Advance Woman's Voice

I wore my Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance tee shirt. That's about it.

Better luck next year.

Celebrate Susan B. Anthony Day!!

In a fit of Valentine's Day repulsion, my friends and I discovered while in high school that the day after V-Day is Susan B. Anthony Day! Ironic, eh? It was great for us single women who thought that Valentine's Day was a crock. We generally went about the day bashing heterosexual standards and norms and pointing out sexual discrimination wherever we could find it. I think we also jeered couples whom we felt could use a little SBA Day (such as the cheerleader with her lead-head jock boyfriend). Them was good times.

But you know, why can't we make more out of SBA Day nowadays? I think this country needs some good jeering of heterosexual expectations and norms. This is my day to celebrate (and anyone else who wants to join in), I'm just not sure what to do. The older me and her older friends would probably go out and drink and mock the world. That somehow doesn't seem adequate now.

It would seem a little strange to go around telling women to VOTE! when there isn't an election coming up. I didn't have much foreplanning for today, but I'd love some suggestions. Maybe I could still go around pointing out sex discrimination where I see it? Maybe I could rant about heterosexual norms and standards? My little blog seems kind of a lonely space in which to do these things, compared to the marauding band of gals I used to terrorize the hallways with...

Oh, well, I guess you at least have to start with awareness raising, right? I'll report back on the variety of things I pulled off for SBA Day this year, and hopefully plan a better one next year. Stay tuned!

-- Virgil

For Brunhilde To Get A Kick Out Of (And You, Too!)

In the vein of exposing Jehovah's Witness doctrine, here's some more tidbits for you. I welcome the new people who've been hitting my site specifically for the JW references. *Waves!* You are welcome here. And you're welcome to delurk and discuss anytime. Even the one of you that found me by googling "demons among Jehovah's people." Which I'm not, by the way. I wouldn't mingle with "Jehovah's people" if it were the last social opportunity on Earth.

God Hates Your Psychiatrist:

Often when a Witness of Jehovah goes to a psychiatrist, the psychiatrist will try to persuade him that his troubles are caused by his religion, entirely overlooking the fact that the Christian witnesses of Jehovah are the best-oriented, happiest and most contented group of people on the face of the earth. They have the least need for psychiatrists. Also, more and more psychiatrists are resorting to hypnosis, which is a demonic form of worldly wisdom.

This contradicts direct evidence that shows Jehovah's Witnesses are, in fact, three times more likely to have mental disorders than any other religious group. Maybe your religion really is making you sick. This kind of indoctrination also keeps folks who leave from seeking help when they could use it most.

Some of their other genius medical advice:
Quotes are separated by spaces.

Appendicitis: Take one ounce each of elder blossom, peppermint and yarrow and simmer in three pints of water .. take a wineglassful every fifteen minutes.. Do not be afraid of the perspiration caused, or if you vomit. You will be better off with an empty stomach.

... We have recently learned of a very effective and simple remedy for cancers which show themselves on the surface of the body. We are informed that a physician, after testing this remedy, paid $1000 for the information, and that he has established a Cancer Hospital which is doing good work. The recipe has come to us free and we are willing to communicate the formula, but only to those who are troubled with surface cancers and who will write to us directly, stating particulars. No fee will be charge, but in order to protect the sufferers, we require a promise that they will not sell the formula to others, nor receive pay for the use of it, nor communicate the formula to anybody. Any one known to be a sufferer can be informed of the terms on which the prescription is obtainable through us.

It has never been proven that a single disease is due to germs.

If the organs [of your body] are diseased, heal them by correcting your diet. Avoid the use of aluminum cooking utensils and alum baking powders as they are injurious to your health, poisoning your blood stream... Sleep on the right side or flat on your back, with the head toward the north so as to get benefit of the earth's magnetic currents. Avoid serum inoculations as they pollute the blood stream with their filthy pus.... Stop chewing gum, as you need the saliva for your food.

Just don't listen to their malarky and try these things for yourself. There's always a reversal to follow:

From time to time we do publish articles on such subjects as surgery, chiropractic, osteopathy, zone therapy, etc. Such articles constitute no endorsement of these practices by us. They are offered in Awake! on the same basis that articles on other subjects are offered, namely, as general information and not as a recommendation. God's provision to restore us to perfection is the ransom by Christ Jesus. In the meantime, fanaticism in health matters is unwise, and absorption in health fads is a form of introversion that keeps the mind on oneself, which is conducive to neither physical nor spiritual health. Sweeping claims for cures by this or that system are always suspect. As stated before, each individual differs. (Rom. 14:2, 3) Moderation is usually beneficial.

Following their usual modus operandi, the organization will never come out and say they were wrong. They just print a buyer beware notice, which, in turn, just piles up yet more contradictions within their own body of literature. In other words, they still stand by these words, some of which were written back in the early twenties, just because they can't admit that their religion makes people sick and their idiot advice likely killed people with appendicitis. I imagine that even the most devoted follower still got his ass to the hospital when that hit.

I really want to write the Brooklyn Lawyer Society and see if they'll still give me that formula for cancer. Maybe some of Chaz Russell's magic beans are in there.

Winter Blahs

I really haven't been in the mood to post anything lately. I think I got bored of the internet for a while. I haven't even been checking my favorite sites.

I think it's the nasty weather. It hasn't been above 8 degrees whenever I've gone to teach in the morning, and all that makes you want to do is scuttle home, get something hot to drink and wrap up. The water pipes under the literacy trailer have been frozen for 5 days, so if we want to flush the toilet, we have to pack water in from the outside.

It seems as though I've had a project due pretty much every week, and I'm keeping up, but as usual it's right down to the wire. I recruit tutors on my university office hours, and I work all day at the literacy trailer only to come home and work until 11:30 at night getting stuff together for the next day. But I think it's starting to get better. And I like my work, so I'm not really complaining.

I got the opportunity to work smarter, not harder (my favorite motto) coming up this fall semester. I have a collection of short stories that I really want to do something with. At this stage, I've done all the revision that I can come up with, and I don't really even have the time to look at them right now. So I got the guy over the M.A. program to rig things around for me so that I can take a creative writing workshop and still have it count toward my hours. (Creative writers and regular M.A.'s don't mix programs very often.)

I'm of two minds about this. First, I think I need the workshop. I've hit a brick wall in my own ability to really look at my work. I would love to get them into publishable shape. It's been a little dream of mine. Besides, there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to do it on my own time. Working it into my regular course requirements was a tiny bit of manipulative genius. BUT...

There's a reason I didn't come in under the creative writing track. And that's because they're all a bunch of pretentious motherfuckers. Few, if any, want to give feedback on your stuff. They're too busy jerking off on their own work. Our personalities are likely NOT going to mesh. Particularly as I already know at least four of the short fiction writers in the department who would likely be workshopping with me. If it weren't for the instructor, I wouldn't think it would be worth it.

On the other hand, it'll make for some fantastic blogging this fall!

-- Virgil

Strange Company With A Strange Ending

In the drinking episode that took place last night (JP where'd you go?), I met and discovered yet more reasons why this town is so weird. This town brings people together from all over the place. I know that's somewhat true of most towns, but a popular get-to-know-you game is to ask the other person after a few drinks, "So why did you move HERE?!" The answers are always surprising.

We drank at the semi-ritzy Waterfront bar. I like that bar because it's got a lot of atmosphere. Also, all the rich business types go to "let their hair down" there. I wrote a collection of short stories based entirely on going out to my favorite spots and watching people and listening to them. It's still a sort of a pastime. I watched a rather stuffy business woman have a shocking number of martinis. I watched a man who looked just like a Greek statue, tight curls and all.

The more interesting people were at my table, by far. I met two other agency members, one whom we call "Einstein" who had come from Manhattan and the other, Sister Mary of Our Lady of Perpetual Litigation is a lawyer for mental health cases. Einstein runs the mental health nonprofit in town. The lawyer is a nun and probably somewhere in her seventies. I watched Sister Mary of Our Lady of Perpetual Litigation knock back two margaritas and three cigarettes, and I'm pretty sure she said "shit" and called someone an "asshole." Highly amusing. What they are both doing in Morgantown after having had such interesting lives elsewhere is beyond me.

At the end of the night, I think I got talked into taking a cat; I'm still being talked into taking it, although I have to iron out a kink or two before I can have it.

So, I guess the moral of the story is, go out drinking with nuns and you'll end up with a pet? Or something?

Still not quite sure what happened.

-- Virgil

Le Rant

I expect life to throw me the occasional curve balls to deal with. I like to think I've grown enough to take them in stride, perhaps even with something of a graceful swing.

But it's the little, shitty things that people do that absolutely drive me over the edge.

I hate people with big egos. Period. I'm not talking about healthy self-esteem. I'm talking about those who always have to be right, who continually twist things around so they're still not somehow wrong, and who have to have their ego stroked or they get hurt feelings.

We had one of our non-profit members quit because her ego wasn't getting stroked enough. Not exactly in my job description. And although it made it difficult for about 5 minutes, it wasn't as though we weren't doing most of her work anyway. Now I find out all the things she actually claimed she did, she didn't do. So that leaves me & my Director/Buddy to do them. We work 25 hours and 30 hours per week, respectively. She didn't even finish out her government contract. So we're stuck both cleaning up the mess she made and trying to do what didn't get done. This is non-fucking-profit. Leave your ass at home if you're in it for glory. There isn't any. We work out of a trailer, for godssake, and we're in the top three biggest literacy programs of the state. I run the biggest volunteer tutor recruitment program in the state. And if you could see me typing right now, you wouldn't have much hope for the future of literacy. Quit making it harder on everybody. It's hard enough as it is.

And then ANOTHER person with a big ego came to one of my "bosses" at the university to say that somehow I had ruined her reputation because I'd failed one of her athletes. Although I had said nor done anything towards this person besides fail her athlete, somehow I'm partially responsible for her uber-competitive nature blowing things out of proportion. So I was asked nicely to help put out a fire. Which just started one with me.

And in that vein, eventually my department will realize that it's not a good idea to ask me to roll over for somebody else's hurt ego. Nope. Not gonna do it. She's the one that needs an attitude adjustment; so why are you talking to me? Just so you can say you did talk to me. I had a nice little rant about backing down to certain other departments and my right to say what I wanted to. After all, if you call me to the mat and then preface your words by "Now, you didn't do anything wrong, BUT," you should probably rethink why you're telling me what comes next.

My polite but sarcastic suggestion that I would be more than happy to facilitate a meeting between this woman and myself to clear up any misunderstandings was hastily rejected. At this point, maybe I'll introduce the two egomaniacs to each other, and they can have coffee or something.

Sheesh.

-- Virgil