Moment in the Life of a Flake

I seem to have misplaced my brain. There are a lot of reasons I believe this; this entry will only detail one of them.

Saturday, for the first time since I was sixteen years old, I locked myself out of my car. I have prevented this in the past by making sure I only lock my car with the remote; if the remote is in my hand, my keys are in my hand, and I’m fine. Well on Saturday I had just finished unloading my rig for a show and went to park my car. I started to walk out to my stage when I decided I needed my knee brace. I stopped to get my knee brace out of my trunk and set down my purse (which had my keys hooked on it) to put on my brace. It was only half an hour later that I realized I closed my trunk without picking my purse back up.

At first I hoped I had left them somewhere else. Three years ago I thought I had locked my keys in my trunk only to discover they had been taken by a pirate (in my life, statements like that make sense). No, this time I had really done it.

Thus began a somewhat awkward period of trying to figure out which of my friends and coworkers had shady enough hobbies they might be able to help break into my car. Turns out I have a car which is particularly difficult break into. Notoriously difficult even. People would look ready to help, ask what I drove, then shake their heads. On the one hand, that’s reassuring. I’m less worried about local miscreants breaking into my car to steal all my showtune CDs. But at the moment it was super annoying.

Fortunately I got a truck out there in just under an hour and was able to get into my car and changed in time for my first show. Unfortunately, that was not the most embarrassing thing to happen that day. It’s no fun being a flake—if anyone has seen my brain I would really like it back.

Coffee With Control of Your Educational Destiny

Would we have Coffee With Sophia Stevens?

Cammy:  Well, maybe not coffee, since we’re talking about an 8th grader (and in 8th grade, my mother was still telling me coffee would stunt my growth…), but tea, soda, ice-cream–whatever works.  And yes, her parents can come along because I don’t want to be creepy (and because I want to give them kuddos for having an impressive daughter).  Any which way you cut it,  I want to give this young woman a high five, buy her some manner of beverage or snack, and assure her that she is not alone in her feelings about standardized tests.

When I came across this article on the Washington Post site Eighth grader designs standardized test that slams standardized tests, I scrambled to click through and read it.  I have zero use for standardized testing in schools, due in large part to the experiences I had with them during my own school years.  And from this article, it’s clear that Sophia Stevens is in the same boat.  She’s a good student, a good test taker–but she’s got no use for the system standardized testing imposes on kids.

And she’s right.

She uses the format of a standard “reading passage” section to convey her concerns about the wasted educational opportunities, the lack of accurate measure of success and the undue stress it puts on teachers and students alike.  My form of protest was not so witty (to prep for the writing section we were told to find a topic and write a persuasive essay–I wrote a persuasive essay about how prepping for these tests was a waste of my educational time), so I give extra props to Miss Stevens for turning the format on itself.  It’s inspired.  As one standardized testing hater to another, I’d like to ask her how long she’s felt this way.  What made her realize this whole mess was a problem?  Is she angry, or just annoyed?  Are there topics in particular that she feels are missed because of the focus on these exams?

While the sad truth is that The Powers That Be are no more likely to take Sophia’s creatively-expressed concerns any more to heart than the administrators at my school did my essay, I want to encourage her to keep saying it.  She is far from alone. And if the bureaucracy of education would fire a few synapses, they would listen to students like Sophia who are smart enough to pass these stupid tests and to point out what what a waste those tests are. It may be futile, but let the record show, that one bright girl tried to point out the stupidity of it all.

 

Kristy: Absolutely (and as someone who was drinking coffee in the 8th grade, if she wants a cup, I’ll totally buy it for her). I was told not all that long ago by a family member that the only reason I don’t support standardized tests is because I don’t care about kids. Yes. He was absolutely correct. I don’t care about kids. That’s why I spent two years teaching them for less than minimum wage and no health insurance. Because I just don’t care.

No wait… that’s not it… I oppose standardized tests because I’m the person who has to deal with these kids when they get out of high school still lacking basic skills like analytical thinking, creating a thesis statement, and putting together grammatically correct sentences. This determination that everything must be quantified on a standard scale is creating a generation of poorly programmed robots. An ad running in Indiana right now announces that one in three high school graduates in the state has to take remedial courses in college. It doesn’t mention the fact that where I teach, one of the largest universities in the state, students that should be in remedial classes don’t wind up taking them because the classes are overflowing.

I really applaud Sophia not just for realizing what crap these tests are but for coming up with such an ingenious, creative way to critique them. While we’re on the subject of creativity, I especially love that she points out the lack of creative thinking that results from test taking. I’m honestly not sure our society values creative thinking, which is upsetting. Not only is creative thinking at the core of the arts (and no matter what those who hold the purse strings in academia will tell you, the arts ARE important), I have it on good authority it’s an essential skill to progress beyond drudge level in the hard sciences. But yeah… why should we bother encouraging that in our society. I’m sure we have all the art and science we need.

For the record, I’m fairly awesome at test taking myself. I’m someone who works best under pressure and my brain just gets the system at work behind those suckers. You want proof standardized tests are a joke? I scored in the 95th percentile on the math portion of the GRE. And I barely passed high school math.

So yes, Sophia, you deserve a tasty treat of your choice on It’s My TV, It’s My Peanut Butter’s dime (by which I mean Cammy’s dime, because I’ve been too busy not caring about young people to earn a dime).

Index this Time Vampire

Okay, so I said I would tell you why I’ve sucked at posting so badly of late. Truth is there are a lot of factors; I have time vampire ideas to last me quite some time. And since I will inevitably run into a lack of inspiration soon, we’re going to drag them out as long as I can. This week’s vampire: Indexing.

You’ve all used a book index before; it’s how you get valuable information out of unnecessarily dense books without having to read the whole damn thing. We’re grateful for indices, we’re glad they exist. But someone has to put them together.

Despite all our wondrous technology, someone has to come up with a list of important terms throughout the text. Then you have to reconcile said terms. Then you have to search every page of the nearly 300 page text for that term. Big publishers contract someone to do that for them (this is actually a way several intentional communities raise money) but mine just relies on free grad student labor (read: me).

So yeah, that’s where I’ve been. I’ll never use an index without whispering a prayer of support for the poor bastard who put it together.

New Official Frosting Recipe

 

We’ve talked about how in the great dichotomy of life I’m a frosting person not a cake person. I believe I have even mentioned my profuse love of cream cheese frosting in particular. Well I have to confess cream cheese now has some serious competition thanks to a recent discovery I can’t believe I only recently discovered.

Back story: My roommate’s birthday was last weekend. She’s celebrating it next weekend and wasn’t going to do anything special on the actual day. As her roommate, I felt it was my solemn duty to make sure she had something delicious to eat on her real natal day though. I went to the grocery store that morning and discovered brownie mixes were on sale (don’t judge), so I picked one up. Then I started feeling lame, because it was her birthday and all I was making were boxed brownies. So I started thinking about how boxed brownies could be improved and I landed on frosting. But I wasn’t sure she was a frosting person and what would she like and… suddenly it occurred to me: Peanut butter!

I’ve heard of peanut butter frosting before, though I can’t recollect having it in the past. And I thought, whether you’re a cake person or a frosting person, everyone loves chocolate and peanut butter, don’t they? Well not everyone. Nazis actually hate chocolate and peanut butter, true story. One of my students last semester wrote about his sister’s buckeye brownies (she wouldn’t give him the exact recipe) that had brownies topped with peanut butter frosting topped with chocolate ganache. I can’t make ganache that’s even halfway passable, but I figured I could handle peanut butter frosting.

Anyway, I did some googling and came up with a composite, very simple, oh so delicious recipe for some peanut butter frosting:

1 cup creamy peanut butter

1 stick of butter (softened)

Blend above together in a mixer until smooth. Then add confectioner’s sugar and milk/cream/half-and-half alternately until you achieve your desired flavor and consistency. Put on something chocolate or eat with a spoon. Marvel at it’s delicious simplicity.

Did you hear that fan-girl squee?

Okay, so my first return was a little premature, here’s hoping this one sticks.

And it’s appropriate that I’m returning from a hiatus, because I am overflowing with excitement about another return. If you haven’t heard One Life to Live is coming back!

If you have heard about it, you no doubt wondered why you did not hear about it from me. The answer is this: I was too afraid it wouldn’t actually happen. I’ve been burned before. Prospect Park told us all they had saved OLTL and All My Children in July 2011, only to tell us it wasn’t happening in November. Now, to be fair, they never said they were cancelling it, they just said they were suspending production, didn’t think it was the right time, blah, blah, blah. I don’t think it was all their fault—ABC definitely played a few things underhanded that kinda screwed them—but a lot of fans, myself included, felt jilted.

So when rumors started leaking in December that they were back at work, I was skeptical. Other rumors indicated that their contracts would allow ownership of the soaps to revert back to ABC in January if nothing had been done on them, so I figured maybe they were doing just enough work to show they were still using the shows so that they didn’t lose them.

Then slowly, actors began announcing they’d signed on. I allowed myself to be a little more hopeful, because I really didn’t want to believe this company would be jerks enough to dangle employment over people’s heads just to check a box on a contract. Then studio spaces were rented. Then specific details on how long and how often the shows would be came out. Then it was announced they were going to air on Hulu. And slowly I began to realize it was probably happening.

But still I said nothing to you all (who I know were dying to know). Because I didn’t want to jinx things and I didn’t want to look like an idiot when things fell through. But… an official premiere date has been set, filming began on Monday. I’m finally ready to admit it’s happening.

One Life to Live is returning (and since it’s not going to be on network television, it’s apparently now with more f-bombs and naked time). I am a happy soap fan.

And ABC can suck it.

(PS. This now gives me an excuse for a Hulu prime membership which will also allow me to watch telenovelas till my heart’s content. In other news, I will never be finishing my dissertation.)

I’m Ba-ack!

Hey everyone, did you miss me? Don’t answer that.

Things have been insane here and the ten minutes or so I spend writing most of my blog posts (10 minutes of typing, often following at least 45 minutes of staring at a blank screen) have just been ten minutes I have not been able to spare. I won’t go into details other than to quote one of my colleagues and say, “The only thing worse than working for an idiot, is working with an asshole for an idiot.” (In case you were wondering, I’m not either of those).

But yay! I’m back! Huzzah!

And I have nothing to say.

Like nothing.

I could give you the standards spiel about how I hate daylight savings time, but I think you all know that about me.

I could elaborate on what I’ve been doing, but I’m saving that for Thursday since it’s my time-vampire week.

This is the story of my life—the minute I have time to write, I have nothing to write. My muse is a catty bitch.

So for tonight, I’m going to say I missed you all (all five of our readers) and that I hope to be writing more regularly.

Two Things I’m Not Posting About, and One That I Am

What I won’t post about?

1) Stupid drivers.  Because every single one of them apparently decided to get out on the road today.  A left hand turn from the right hand lane?  REALLY?  And just because of the volume of snow?  Doesn’t mean you get a license to drive down the middle of the street when there’s on-coming traffic, asshat.  And if you’re going to tail-gate, at least don’t do it on the cell phone (and when that cop stops you, don’t look so shocked about it).

2) Sequestration.  Because it’s been a term I’ve had to deal with for over a year due to the nature of my bill-paying job, because too many people have presumed to know what I think about it, and because all of a sudden today everyone from the ladies in line at the cutting table at the fabric store, to talking heads on the news, to the politicians from the two major parties, to an inordinate percentage of my normally party-politics-quiet twitter feed is pointing mother-fuckin’ political fingers!  If you think either major political party holds the blame for this, I’ve got some ocean front property in Arizona I’ll sell you for a song.

 

What I will post about?

Snow.

This is the primary reason for my having missed so many posts.  We kinda got smacked.  Twice.  In two weeks.  And it was snowing again today (thankfully without any real accumulation).  It’s not that I live in an area that’s a stranger to snow, it’s just that we’re more used to it being parceled out in 2-3 inch increments, rather than a foot in a single go.

So, there’s been a lot of the death-defying commutes through white-outs, the lost time at work, power outages and the annoyance of dealing with the aftermath of a snow-plow when you just spent 2 hours clearing your drive….

And then there’s the good side:  the crazy, fun stuff people do with a shit ton of snow.  I haven’t seen a snowstorm yield this much activity out of people in a long time.  Maybe it’s the lack of snow last year and for most of this winter that drove people out to do something with the white stuff when we finally got it.

Up the street someone constructed a snow-castle that, before it began to subside was basically a story and a half high on it’s highest side (it was built on a slope), and big enough to park a car in it.  Seriously, it was amazing.  Even the igloo someone built on Barksdale field while I was at W&M was nothing compared to this perfectly constructed castle tower.  They even put up a tarp roof on the thing.  All I can think is that I must have missed one hell of an interesting snowball siege earlier in the week if that kind of fortification was developed.

I saw a brief bit of a battle (probably un-related to the castle, though I think some of the kids involved may have come from that end of the street–it’s not easy to tell when they’re all bundled up like Randy from A Christmas Story) out on the streets during the previous storm. Snow still falling, the street nearly full of snow after the plow had made its one pitiful pass hours before, there was a gaggle of kids advancing on a group hunkered behind the growing mounds of snow surrounding a going-nowhere Mustang in a drive way.  The advancing group thought they had the numbers, but they didn’t see what I did–that the kids by the Mustang had two teenaged older brothers lurking around the corner of the house behind what I first thought to be another mound of snow, but which turned out to be an arsenal of snowballs.  The battle was short, but heated (cooled?).

Someone across town sculpted bears in the yard.  And I don’t mean added bear-like features to snow-men, I mean actually carved out two bears about 7-8 feet high (they’re up on their hind legs, with fore-paws out in front of them), with sculpted fur and realistic features.  Menacing, but damned impressive.  Another house across town had formed some sort of large flower, which wasn’t all that cool, unless you drove past a night, when they had the thing lit from the inside.

Then there are the kids with the videos.  I’ve seen some pretty impressive footage from 10-year-olds mounting cameras on their helmets before saucer-sledding it down an area hillside. The coolest was when the camera-kid wiped out and was looking back up the hill in time to catch his little buddy–coming down right behind him–make the jump and sail right over the camera.  I’m sensing future camera operators for action films coming out of this.  Or, y’know, in some cases it’s more like Jack-Ass, The Next Generation.

We can get big snows into mid-March around here, but it’s likely this last blast will be it for the snow-ball and sled set.  I may not have enjoyed dealing with the snow from my own perspective of having to deal with it in getting out to go to work, but I can’t complain about what I’ve gotten to see other people do with it.

 

Wonder of Warmth….

With the remains of our recent winter storm on the ground, I’m really not out running around this weekend.  In fact, as is my custom during the really cold weather, I’m holed up on the second floor where things are, by default, warmer.

But just being up here wasn’t quite enough.  It’s still a little chilly.  And no one would want me to, I dunno, succumb to hypothermia, right?  Right.  So, I hunker down with The Stack of books, and one of the greatest of all human innovations:

The heated mattress pad.

Even when I’m motivated enough to not remain in my PJs and under the covers, this inspired item makes just sitting on the bed to read (or, at times, installing server upgrades from my laptop–I’ve actually been pretty productive today). a more pleasant experience.

Seriously, why did no one tell me about these sooner?  Sure, the electric blanket is great and all, but we all know warm air rises, cold air settles, so why did I have to wait so long for someone to hook me up with something that warms from the bottom (pun intended) up?  Add to this that if you are someone who has to break out the heating pad for a sore back or shoulders (i.e. when you’ve just shoveled waaaay too many cubic feet of snow off your drive way) this basically turns your entire bed into a heating pad.   I hear people still talking about the blanket and I just want to say, “No!  There’s something SO MUCH BETTER!”  But I’m fairly certain that  going up to total strangers and waxing poetic on the virtues of the heated mattress pad would result in awkwardness and/or calling security people.  I’m not even sure that me blathering like a fan girl this blog doesn’t cross the border into the “little bit weird” category (clearly that particular border crossing doesn’t hinder MTVMPB much, so why worry now?).

But seriously.  Best.  Thing.  Ever.  If you’re the kind of person who keeps the house chilly, one of these is totally worth every penny.

Of course, it does make it a little harder to get out of the bed….

Time Vampires On Ice

Mother Nature decided to upset my plans to address the time suck that is Sims FreePlay in favor of her own particularly nasty sort of time destroyer.

February.  Winter.  Weather.

My location got slammed today.  I’ve been through plenty of Midwest winter weather before, but this was slightly more impressive than previous situations.

My work location rarely shuts down.  While my new boss would have been pretty understanding if I’d opted to work from home, I decided to go in prepared to bunk at my desk over-night.  I travel with a sleeping bag in the trunk in the winter anyway, so I grabbed some clothes, a toothbrush and a few DVDs and headed out.  There was nothing on the ground and barely any flakes at all wafting through the air even after I’d arrived at work

About an hour later, the ground was totally covered.  Despite my plans to just stay overnight if it didn’t let up, I was pressured to go ahead and leave for home around 9:15.  So, with what had come to about 6 inches or so of snow and white out conditions, I inched home.

My normal 15-20 minute trip took significantly longer.  Plows couldn’t keep up, more than once I wasn’t sure where the road even was and–this was the worst of all–there were a lot of morons in rear wheel drive pick-ups who seemed to think they would be able to drive regular speeds in what was by that point about 8-9 inches of snow.  At one point in the journey, I had to scoot between two trucks that were doing 360s on either side of the main thoroughfare.  Stopping wasn’t an option because we’d already reached a point where, while I could still drive, the snow was scraping the underside of my little car–to stop and wait could mean I would be stuck.

At 10:30, I was coming up my side street.  All was going well until I got right up to my house.  Some jack-ass had parked a car in front of the house just before my driveway.  Going around that car resulted in my loss of momentum and the right angle to make it up the drive.  I hail-Mary’d the car into the snowdrift at the foot of the drive and proceeded to get out in the still-falling snow and begin digging a path to the garage, and trying to extricate the car.  It was something of a losing battle because by the time I’d cleared one track down the drive to the bottom, there was about an inch covering the recently cleared path at the top.

It was after noon before the car was in and I was able to take off my frozen-still jeans and jump in a shower to thaw my icicle-laden hair.  By that time my place of work had sent out the final notices shutting down all but the most essential functions and ordering people home–a very rare situation, I assure you.  I’m not sure they would have let me bunk in the office as I’d planned.

The worst part was, I had almost this exact same experience years ago in February (from the treacherous drive home, all the way to the hurling of my car into the snow drift at the base of the drive–though in that case it wasn’t because I was dodging an ill-parked Camry.

Four hours, frozen away in a drift of snow.  And that’s just the beginning.  Tomorrow, I’ll be re-clearing the drive after the snow that continued to fall.  And we were also facing the icky possibility of freezing rain on top of it all.  That means tomorrow morning, I’ll be ditching more time to extricate myself and my car from the garage, and no doubt road conditions will be less than stellar, meaning a slower drive in.

My Texas ass really loathes this sub-zero sucker of time.

Delaying Downton Gratification

Owing to company in town over the weekend, I skipped the broadcast of the season finale of Downton Abbey (in case some of you were wondering at the lack of commentary–because even when my weeks are insane, I can generally rise to the occasion of Downton-Squee-age).

You would think this would have meant that the first thing I’d have done after work Monday is whip out my DVDs and catch up with the gangs above and below stairs….

But I didn’t.

Work interfered and I got home so late and was so grumpy, I didn’t even want to ponder spoiling my experience.

So, surely, Tuesday is here, I rushed home to watch tonight?

Nope.

Sure, I got home late again (not as late as Monday), but as I looked at those DVDs I realized that once I watch this thing, I have to wait all those months for the next season.  Months and months of no Granthams, no housemaids, no footmen….

And I put the box down.

I know I won’t hold out much longer.  The itch to know what happens and the reality that I could be spoiled any minute are going to win out soon, but for right now, the longer I wait, the shorter the void of no-Downton on the other side.  Sure, it’s not much of a trade for the delayed gratification, but it’s all I’ve got.