Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

How to Motivate Children and Other Stories

Me: Okay, so… two of you did your writing homework.
Children: (general murmurs of unapologetic excuses)
Me: Whatever. So for next week I want you to invent a planet and tell me about it. You could–
Boy 1: Ooh! Ooh! Oooooooh!
Me: Ummm… yes?
Boy 1: I have clay left over at home can I make a model of it?????
Me: Sure, I guess.
Girl 1: OOOH! I will stop and get clay on the way home!!!
Boy 2: CAN I DRESS UP LIKE AN ALIEN FROM MY PLANET??
Me: Okay?
Girl 1: I’ll dress up AS MY PLANET!!!!
Me: Whatever, as long as you also write.

Next week I will get confused parents escorting in aliens holding soccer balls covered in molding clay asking me why their homework was to dress like aliens and how that will help them pass the EOG. I just know it.

Girl 1: … and then I’ll have to sit with the adults at dinner and it will be SOOOOO boring.
Me: Yeah. Adults can be way boring.
Girl 1: I mean, YOU don’t count as an adult.
Me: Really?
Girl 1: Yeah, you have to be married first.
Me: Okay. I’ll remember that.
Girl 1: AND you have the mind of a kid!
Me: ….
Girl 1: It’s a good thing!!!
Me: Okay. Thanks.

Goodbye Rice email address

Supposedly today is the day Rice finally deletes my old email address, although I have gotten three things from the TFW list serv today so this may be a lie. Still, in preparation for the impending severing of my last link with Rice University (besides my ongoing frenemy relationship with World’s Most Powerful Cyborg, William Marsh Rice [more on that later]), I went through and saved any old emails I thought would be pertinent to archive for posterity. Because I’m just that much of a librarian. Here are the best bits from the last year (I got bored after July 2008). I arranged them in such a way that, I think, they tell a kind of story about my time at Rice:

July 2008
“If I can’t fuel my car with them, what am I supposed to do with all these cans of creamed corn?”

September 2008
Dear James Fox,
The narrative force behind my dream last night was rescuing you from the Amish. I’m not sure why they wanted you in the first place, but it would explain your fear of modern things like shaving and haircuts. If you are actually being held hostage by the Amish, I will of course rush to your aid. Although I suppose I would hear about it by carrier pigeon or through the Amish Underground Railroad, not email. It will be just like my dream except Rob will not be there complaining the whole time and I may actually do something useful instead of running away from haunted trees. Apparently Amish country is full of them. In conclusion, sorry I didn’t rescue you from the Amish. I promise to try harder next time/in real life.
Patricia”

October 2008
“Rachel says you are only allowed to cheat on your boyfriend if you are in another country (where it doesn’t count), with a foreign exchange student (like being in another country), or with someone who has the same name as your boyfriend (comes with the good excuse: “Well… he said his name was Steven… I thought it was you”. Understandable mistake.)”

December 2008
“I am not saving you from zombies. You took the class; you fend for yourself. That’s the deal. Besides I’ll have other stuff to worry about, like looting and making sure I’m the second hottest person in my Zombie Fighting Team (one hot person always dies so that you know it’s serious). Just fyi. It’s good to be ready for any eventuality”
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Too Old to Go On: I Think My Tutoring Group May be Slowly Killing Me

Me: You aren’t reducing these fractions; do this page over.
Girl: OMG! Fine. Wait, do you even know what OMG means?
Me: OF COURSE I do. My generation invented OMG.
Other Girl: Yeah, she’s not THAT old, God. Everyone knows that OMG means Oh My God!!
Yet Another Girl: Yeah, both ways of TAKING THE LORD’S NAME IN VAIN!
Other Girls: (awkward silence)
Me: Yeah, so reduce these fractions.

And then today:

Me: Yeah, you will have to shuffle these flashcards yourself, I cut my thumb this weekend and now I can’t do a surprising amount of things. Like texting. It’s mad annoying.
Girl: You TEXT?!?!
Me: OF COURSE! Why is that so surprising?
Girl: It’s just… my parents don’t know how to text.
Me: I’m not the same age as your parents. I’m closer to YOU than to your parents.
Girl: Um, whatever, you can DRIVE.
Me: OMG.

And, to twist the knife:

Boy: Why is there a drawing of a birthday cake on that whiteboard?
Me: I don’t know, it was just there.
Boy: Is today your birthday?!? Are you thirty?!?
Me: WHAT? No! I’m only twenty-two!
Boy: Oh. Well, that’s only eight away from thirty.
Me: (sigh) Good mental subtraction.

If you’re interested, I’m up to about 26,000 words on my novel, about half of which is from the perspective of Middle School Patricia. Mr. Snape Darcy, her dream man, makes regular appearances. It’s pretty epic.

Kids Today: Ridiculous

Monday, tutoring group
Boy: Ugh, I hate it when my phone vibrates, it feels like my leg is going to fall off.
Me: Who’s calling you?
Boy: My friend. He probably wants to come over and play Xbox.
Me: You have an Xbox? Wish I had an Xbox.
Boy: Psh, you can’t play Xbox, it’s for boys!
Girl: Nu-uh!
Me: Are you a video game chauvinist?
Boy: Name one Xbox game.
Me: I can’t have an Xbox, I’m too poor.

Tuesday, tutoring group
Girl: Where do you live?
Me: You’re just trying to distract me so I won’t make you do more decimal division.
Girl: No, I really want to know! I love decimal division! Decimal division is for rockers! (does rockers sign)
Me: ….. Awesome.
Girl: You’re kind of helping so you can be like my backup singer. Or second guitar.
Me: That’s like… my dream.

Wednesday, tutoring group
Girl: Do I really have to keep multiplying fractions? I know it already!
Me: Okay, do the Challenge page. That will prove to me that you’re a MASTER!
Girl: Whatever.
Me: (to the tune of the Pokemon theme song) I WANNA BE THE BEST AT MATH, like no one ever was. TO MULTIPLY FRACTIONS IS MY REAL TEST, TO REDUCE THEM IS MY CAUSE…
Girl: You are the most annoying tutor ever.
Me: You mean you’re not so inspired right now?
Girl: Can I be with Mr. Cameron next time?

Then I realized that my tutoring kids are probably too young to even know what Pokemon is, let alone know the theme song. To be fair, the only reason I do is because Thomas had the CD and made us listen to it in the car for a period of two months. Rob also told me that the kids he works with had no idea what a velociraptor was because they were too young to have ever seen Jurassic Park. And if they did see it, they would probably be all “This movie sucks. That dinosaur doesn’t even look real!” IN MY DAY we made do with moderately realistic computer animated dinosaurs and puppets! Kids today. Ridiculous.

I want to marry a lighthouse keeper and keep him company…

THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER from THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER team on Vimeo.

Going to the Cape Hatteras lighthouse this weekend! I hope I too am attacked and then rescued by a giant lightning bug.

Misguided Travel Guides: Weiner Dog Day

The day I knew that I would love living in Carrboro was the day I saw Weiner Dog Day listed on Weaver Street Market‘s events page. This was back in July, and I have been counting down the days till October 18th, envisioning a carpet of disproportionately long puppies frolicking in front of the co-op.
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Modesty, Math, and Waffles

Steven: You can look at how many page hits and where they’re coming from with google analytics. Because I bet so many people are reading your blog and not commenting. You should think of a way to entice them to comment.
Me: Meh. I’m not going to cramp their style. I don’t need commenting. I know they’re there and they know I’m amazing. It’s like a symbiotic relationship. Just like how I don’t need an app on facebook to tell me who my top friends are.
Steven: Well, maybe a modesty app

Me: … so really the fraction bar is just a different way of writing a division sign. We could write this as 1 divided by 2 if we wanted.
Boy: Which is 0.5!!!! That’s so cool! I wonder if my teacher knows that.
Me: Probs.
Boy: What?
Me: It’s actually a math secret I invented.

This kid was literally ridiculously excited about fraction/division/decimal equivalents and could not WAIT to tell his teacher about them.

So last week while in H-Town Steven’s mom bought us some pots and pans. Yay! Now we can cook in more than just a soup pot or the World’s Littlest Frying Pan! However, she also included Steven’s old waffle maker in the box they came in, not realizing that, as part of his random gift giving every time I see him, my Uncle had already given me a brushed silver Industrial Size Belgian Waffle Maker. Literally the same one we had in the servery. Steven’s waffle maker looks puny and weak by comparison, but also scrappy and good at maneuvering. Clearly you know where this is going.

Stay tuned for WAFFLEOFF2009!

Times I Have Almost Died: Swine Flu

I hesitantly include this as a time I’ve almost died since it is definitely less serious than others in this category, like the time I read the fourth Twilight book. I wouldn’t have even bothered going to the doctor at all if campus weren’t plastered with flyers saying “If you have ANY TWO of these symptoms come to health services IMMEDIATELY”. And it’s not like Rice health services, either, where they’re never open and they prescribe allergy medicine for every ailment. It’s a legit hospital. I had to park in a parking garage and walk across a skyway to get there.

While I was there, I got to wear a stylish mask, and everyone kept assuring me that Everything Is Going To Be Okay. Apparently the top half of my face always looks really worried, because in reality I am way less scared of swine flu than I am of Japanese Spider Crabs. They told me I either had a mild case or was “incubating it” and would feel even worse later. They gave me pamphlets. I got to keep the mask.

Doctor: Do you need proof that you were here?
Me: Ummm… what? Like for insurance?
Doctor: You’re a grad student so probably not. Most of the undergrads are afraid their professors will think they’re lying.
Me: No, my professors seem pretty understanding.
Doctor: Well, you’re a grad student; you’re more mature.

LULZ! Joke’s on her! Although judging from the vapid conversations I’m forced to listen to daily on the bus, she’s probably right.

Anyway, after sleeping for fourteen hours, I feel much better! Take that swine flu! Although still coughing like a chain-smoking asthmatic.

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