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emmanation

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Archive for the ‘really? REALLY?’ Category

pink and red

Friday, February 3rd, 2012

I can’t say anything about the Susan G. Komen Foundation’s clearly political decision to defund Planned Parenthood that hasn’t already been said better by someone else. Those links outline the hypocrisy in the Foundation’s stated reason for defunding and the (depressing) state of women’s healthcare that makes Planned Parenthood so necessary in the first place.

Now, though, I am both disgusted by and embarrassed for Komen. To defund was ridiculous. To reinstate, with bullshit explanations, was the right call but poorly done. The statement Komen released effectively says ‘god, guys, fine. We didn’t do anything wrong, but if you’re going to get all sensitive about it we’ll take it back. For now, anyway.’

I have a pink stand mixer. And pink license plates. I acknowledge that I bought them more because I was going through a pink phase and liked that I could justifty pinkness with some social cred. I’ve since learned that the marketing surrounding pink is actually not particularly helpful when it comes to altering people’s behavior with regard to breast cancer. In other words, perhaps more people bought pink stuff because they were like me when I bought my mixer. I don’t do regular breast exams (yes, I am aware that I should). I don’t walk or run for ‘the cure’. I don’t talk to my friends about their risk factors for breast cancer. I do have a pink mixer and pink license plates, and honestly? I’m not even sure that there was a charitable donation associated with those purchases. I think there was, but I would, wouldn’t I?

Komen’s foundation didn’t make their decision with the highest emphasis on the health of women, but neither did I when I brought pink things into my life.

I am holding them to a higher standard than I hold myself, and that makes me feel bad – but then I remember that I’m not a charity and I feel better.

I just want good things to happen for women, and I want the organizations that purport to be for women to want the same thing.

Maybe I’ll start buying red stuff instead.

 

 

things that other people do poorly

Wednesday, September 28th, 2011

I feel like there are things about the world that other people should understand. Two people from yesterday in particular.

Let’s start with the complaint that’s going to make me sound like less of a intolerant craphead, ok?

Yesterday, after a loooong lecture and completely craptastic (and the word of the day is …. crap!) office hours, I walked the half mile back to my car.

I found a sticky note on my driver’s side window. It said ‘call me about your car 303-xxx-xxxx Alan’.

I WAS SO MAD, YOU GUYS.

Unnecessarily mad, really, but dude. What the hell. My first thought was that he’d hit me and was just really impolite about it. I walked around the car a couple of times and didn’t see anything, but seriously? My car is sort of trashed anyway. I wouldn’t have necessarily noticed a new ding.

My second thought was that he was mad that I was parked by the creek (in public parking) when I had a Mines permit sticker on my car. That’s just the only other thing I could think of that would cause someone to want to talk to me.

I didn’t want to deal with either of those things, but I called him and left a super pissed off message regarding the note. (That’s super pissed off in my mind – in reality I probably just sounded a little frustrated. I don’t do pissed off out loud very well.)

He called last night to tell me that he sells MOTHERFUCKING WINDSHIELDS.

Whatever. Douche. The note sounded like a command – and it was a sales pitch? Even if my windshield had literally shattered on the drive home, I wouldn’t have had him put in the new one. He clearly doesn’t understand… well, things. Like how to win over prospective customers.

The second person who did something weird and irritating (to me) yesterday was a generally nice fellow who’s in my Statistical Methods class. A class I’m taking, not teaching.

He came up to me and said ‘you have office hours, right?’ I said ‘… yes, for the undergrad prob stats kids.’ He said ‘I’m going to come by – you really helped me with my homework when we talked about it before class the other day’.

He didn’t ask if that would be all right, he just said it like a thing that was going to happen. It’s nice that our ten minute chat helped him, but I’m not his teacher. If he wants to work on homework together, I’d maybe try and find a time that wasn’t already set aside for another purpose. Instead, he wants to come in and supersede my undergrad kids with his graduate level not-my-problem issues.

Seriously, what? (Yes, this is probably not that irritating to anyone but me. Maybe it was the way he said it. Or maybe I’m ridiculous.)

Sometimes I just hate everyone.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Hairy Wednesday

Wednesday, September 21st, 2011

20110921-100112.jpg

His hair is super cool. I think he thinks so too because he sits up front in every class. By ‘up front’ I mean between me and the teacher. Every day. No matter where I sit.

okey dokey

Monday, September 12th, 2011

There are undergraduate girls on campus every day whose shorts are the length of my (super cute retro style) swimsuit bottoms.

I think that perhaps part of getting older is a matter of letting practicality overwhelm appearance.

Don’t get me wrong – I want to look cool. I just don’t want to have to peel my bare thighs off of plastic seats four times a day. The red lines that appear during a 50 minute lecture do not go away in the ten minutes between classes, and that sort of ruins the look, no?

Plus, if someone prior to you was also wearing short shorts, aren’t you … like … sharing thigh sweat?

 

wrong wrong wrong

Thursday, September 1st, 2011

Yesterday.

Am I right?

Seriously. Not only did I write a poorly thought out blog post (I had a point but forgot it on the drive to school and typed something while in class just so I could hit publish), I also got a perfectly nice TA at Purdue in trouble for doing me a favor (not on purpose!) and made a pathetic showing of solving a problem on the board in Linear Vector Spaces. Like, my professor crossed it out and wrote ‘the works of Satan’ next to what I wrote down.*

Sometimes I do or say things and afterwards I think, man, if I had only thought about that before opening my mouth or taking that step, I would have seen the error of my ways. Then I mentally yell at myself – THINK, Emma, THINK.

There are days, though, that even if I had thought about it I would have done it anyway. The perfectly nice TA got in trouble for giving me permissions that only his prof should have been able to grant. The professor was going to give them to me, but the TA beat him to it – and I didn’t know that it was an issue, so I mentioned it to the prof. In retrospect, the best I could have done was talked less – I couldn’t have realized I shouldn’t say that specific thing. I certainly couldn’t have performed better at the board unless I’d gone back in time to the night before and studied matrix inversions – but I chatted to the class while I made my attempt and in retrospect that probably makes my failure more memorable.

Hmm. Maybe talking less overall is a good idea.

I should look into that.

* That is not a joke. He really really loves Dana Carvey’s Church Lady.