burn cells brained out

2007-02-03T10:09:00.000-08:00

so ends the era of snarky single blogging.

so begins the era of snarky co-blogging! head over to http://www.chastitymonkey.com

2006-12-05T20:36:00.000-08:00

One hundred and fifty custom made Mexican wrestling masks showed up today. Really, this is the wedding planning detail we are most excited about. Actually, it is the ONLY wedding planning detail we are excited about. Do we have tablecloths? No. Silverware? No. Centerpieces? No. Flowers? No. A wedding cake? No. A tux picked out? No.

But wrestling masks? Hell yes.

2006-12-03T22:00:00.000-08:00

The priest who is marrying us, Father Z, is very very awesome, and very very Polish. We dropped by the rectory for what we thought would be a twenty minute conversation about the rehearsal - he ended up inviting us to dinner, which consisted of about five different incredibly filling dishes, which he just kept feeding us, and refused to stop. Seriously. At one point, I tried to ward off another helping of hunter's stew, and Fr. Z turned to John Baby and said "John!" "Yes?" "Feel her belly! Is it tight like drum?"

As it turns out, yes, my belly was tight like drum, so I was granted a reprieve. John Baby, on the other hand, just had to keep eating.

2006-11-17T17:54:00.000-08:00

My sister told me recently that I would "nurse my children like I nursed my beer."

I'm not sure what that means, really, but I bet it's insulting.

2006-11-12T22:08:00.000-08:00

We were watching VH1's best 100 80's hits music videos thingie, and the video for Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" came on. The video mostly involves a hot woman in a skimpy dress draping herself (and then doing splits and leg lifts, because, just because!) on the hood of David Coverdale's Jaguar. In a later interview, Coverdale said that she "turned his blood to wine." Which is, I suppose, why he married her. Awwwwwww.

Seriously, if 80's music videos can be trusted, rock stars used to have a lot more fun before they started getting socially conscious. I think that it's worth a few more holes in the ozone layer to have such loving and luscious applications of hair spray to permed mullets. While we're at it, I would also support the judicious re-introduction of the jumping jack as an acceptable on-stage dance maneuver.

Was the Whitesnake too salacious? How about some gravity defying Christian hair metal???

2006-10-19T18:13:00.000-07:00

You know, as long as we are resurrecting secular practices which were specific to a place, time, and social class and declaring that they are the Catholic Way Forever...

Yes. Well, as long as we are doing THAT, I want to submit a few of my own Medieval Catholic traditions. These were long-standing facets of eminently Catholic societies for many centuries! To do otherwise now is unthinkable. Let's start with:

The Stew:

Yes, I believe everyone would be happier and better off if we took more communal baths with servants bringing us food! Fun for the whole family. This woodcut via A Feast For the Eyes.

The Alewife:

The art of brewing was passed on from mother to daughter, and women brewed most of the ale consumed in the 14th and 15th centuries. Sometimes this was just a cottage industry; sometimes women went on to become large-scale commercial brewers. Anyway, I think that it's time we take down the male-dominated microbreweries. Alewyfes, away!

Castrati:

Beginning at around the 16th century, boys of exceptional singing talent were, um, curtailed at a young age, often for Church choir purposes. A Papal Bull by Pope Sixtus V even authorized the recruitment of castrati for the choir of St. Peter. Let's bring them back for the greater glory of traditional Church music!

And so on, and so forth. What traditions do you want to resurrect? My dad, having seven daughters (and three sons), believes that the practice of the bride price should be reinstituted.

2006-10-17T22:09:00.000-07:00

This asshat has an online personal!

What a way with the ladies! When some gal on the online singles site shuts him down, he writes a blog post on the "close minded fury of a modern woman." He also wants a dowry. And why not? Such a catch he is. As self centered as Caligula, and probably much less fun at parties.

The only comforting thing is that the traditionalcatholicsingles.com site has about twice as many men as women listed thereon. Phew. At least they aren't going to out-breed us any time soon, as many modern women of fury prefer the men who aren't asshats.

Props to John Baby for pointing out the above linkies.

2006-10-16T20:34:00.000-07:00

I think it looks more like a fertility Tamagotchi

2006-10-09T23:05:00.000-07:00

I read my youngest brother "The Charge of the Light Brigade," and we discussed it afterwards, especially the bit about cannons to the right of them and cannons to the left of them. He thinks that the Light Brigade should have gone around the cannons instead.

Also, "Kubla Kahn" is about a bear. My youngest brother was tipped off to this by the mention of feeding on honeydew. There is no fooling him.

2006-10-08T20:59:00.000-07:00

Hello the internets!

I have been up to all kinds of boring things recently. Boring boring boring. John Baby's apartment is nearing completion. All the standard furniture things are in it now. Getting it to this stage involved a truly traumatic encounter with a creepy mattress salesman, though. Salesmen in general skeeve us out. It's much more fun buying stuff on Clement Street. Clement Street is a primarily Asian neighboorhood in San Francisco, the awesomeness of which is as 1/x where x approaches 0 (that is to say, very awesome). Certainly, the shopkeeps make the attempt to sell you things. But there is a certain charm in statements like "No full extra long! You buy queen! I tell many people you buy queen! Works great!" (this was in reference to John Baby's attempt at purchasing some sheets)

Great things about Clement Street:

The super cheap, super tasty Vietnamese restaurant, Minh's Garden. Sure, they have a large sign up to the effect that the health department found numerous code violations there on their last inspection, which have since been rectified. But the food is superb! And full of crunchy vegetables! And cheap! Further, the interior decoration consists of several Vietnamese beer ads, and several more pictures of women breastfeeding babies. We took my mom to eat there, and she thought that aspect of it was just fantastic.

The giant Asian supermarkets full of fascinating variants of dried mushrooms and bins of fresh produce, and wizened old people who will mow you down in their attempts to get to the fresh produce.

Super Tokyo, which will sell you twelve packs of Sapporo or Tsing Tao for 8.99. In addition, they will sell you tasty candy with amusing Engrish monikers.

And, of course, there are the small bargain shops which line the street and are filled with articles too strange to imagine anyone having authorized their mass production. See this flickr set for examples.

2006-09-29T17:54:00.000-07:00

Life is fairly busy around here. Last weekend John Baby and I went to the (Catholic Church mandated) marriage preparation course thing. There were many interludes where we were supposed to discuss things like "how do you feel about children?" or "on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is religion to you?"

John Baby and I have already discussed these things, albeit without bringing in scales of 1 to 10. In fact, we talked over all the standard issues within the first three months of dating, because we are crrrrrazy like that. This leaves us with the following topics to discuss:

- Is it really funny to dress babies in wigs?

- So, like, if we had met while I was thirteen, and he was seventeen, how weird would that be?

- After we get married, should we continue to file our blogs separately, or together? If together, will it be as punkrockphilosopher or as herreid? Or should we merge the names? If we merge them, would it be punkrockherreidphilosopher, or herreidpunkrockphilosopher, or punkrockphilosopherherreid? Or should we make up some completely new name?

2006-09-14T17:52:00.000-07:00

What kind of radtrad are you?

John Baby sent me this. I laughed until I peed. Now you can, too!*

*production of actual urine not guaranteed.

2006-09-06T20:32:00.000-07:00

I love love love my new job. In addition to being intellectually stimulating and involving playing with shiny new computers, there is also free food and/or beer on a daily basis. There is no better way to secure loyal employees than to provide them with free alcohol. The warlords who fed their warriors mead before battle knew as much.

My coworkers recently discovered that I was a Catholic when I gave some of them a lift to lunch, and they discovered two rosaries, several church bulletins, and a rolled up poster of the Pope in the back seat of my car. "It's all right," I explained to them, "Catholics are, like, the party Christians."

2006-08-28T19:23:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was helping make dinner at John Baby's house. We were making some stuffed pasta shell thingies, so I had a mixing bowl full of chopped chicken, ricotta cheese, fresh basil, all that good stuff. I noticed that the recipe also called for an egg. Reached in fridge, grabbed egg carton, cracked egg in, and then read the side of the egg carton. Apparently, these eggs had expired sometime in May (ha! it's almost September!). Of course, wasting all that ricotta cheese was totally out of the question, so we just cooked the pasta shells, bad egg be damned.

We are still alive, and didn't even get the runs. Although I did have a fairly weird dream that night that John Baby was already married...but, as it turns out, it was all right, because he wasn't married to a person. In my dream, I was very relieved.

2006-08-16T21:27:00.000-07:00

Went to the park with some of my younger siblings. My youngest brother decided to strike up a conversation about linguistics with a mother and her toddler playing there.

Youngest brother: "Hey, I NEVER say bad words!"

Random mother: "That's good, you shouldn't say bad words."

Youngest brother: "See! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...! See! I didn't finish it! It isn't a bad word!"

Random mother: "..."

2006-08-12T12:20:00.000-07:00

A very interesting and well thought out answer to an AskMefi question about the paucity of female philosophers.

2006-08-12T11:35:00.000-07:00

I have a job! It mainly involves being paid in yachts. Oh, also some tech stuff, I suppose. I am now an official computer geek, and I can wear a t-shirt reading "WYSIWYG" to work and have coworkers chortle. Could life be any more sweet? I think not.

2006-08-08T22:38:00.000-07:00

Dead silence on the part of employers for weeks...then, two job offers in one day! Isn't it always the way. I need to talk to both of them tomorrow. Perhaps the decision will be settled by each company sending out representative gladiators, who will then fight with pitchforks and nets while I watch from the stands above, drinking from an amphora of wine. Straight from the amphora.

It is a thought.

2006-08-07T20:45:00.000-07:00

I want to take a vacation from being unemployed.

For one thing, my writing (both will to and quality of) is suffering. I am much more funny when I have a job to snark about.

JOBS...they are SNARKTASTIC!

For another, I find meeting new people an awkward experience, at best. Now, thanks to interviews, my week is filled with meeting new people! Who I need to make a good impression on! By being myself! But not too much myself, because this is not professional! I had an "informal" second interview today, and it was by far the most unnerving thing ever, because I was sitting around and chatting with people who have the power of hiring, so we aren't actually new friends, or anything, but we will still talk about each other's families and lives and hobbies, because this is an INFORMAL interview. Although we may never see each other again. It is like Internet dating. Except, if they decide not to hire you, they don't even send a "let's just be friends" email.

Unless they are KAPLAN, in which case they sent me TWO rejection letters. Through snail mail, even!

Finally, not having a job makes me feel very aimless and ill at ease. What good are weekends? Why am I having a beer at the end of the day? What excuse do I have for being surly? All the cycles of life are disrupted.

2006-08-03T13:44:00.000-07:00

Recently, at John Baby's suggestion, we watched a movie called "M." This movie was black and white(!), in German(!!), and starred Peter Lorre as a super creepy pervert who compulsively murders young girls(!!!).

So, in short: the ideal date movie.

2006-07-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

Motherhood sounds awesome.

2006-07-27T11:14:00.000-07:00

I interviewed at the maternity and nursing apparel company yesterday. EVERY WOMAN in the office that I talked to or saw was either definitely pregnant, or looked pregnant. Opportunities were opening up due to people taking maternity leave. The woman who interviewed me was about six months along, and she was smiling dreamily and rubbing her belly as we talked (it was her first, natch). They must have some small statue of a gravid goddess in the back room...every woman who walks past it becomes fecund...

In other news, the tech support people got back to me and want to take me out on a second informal interview / lunch. Hurrah!

2006-07-24T23:04:00.000-07:00

In my copious free time, in addition to reading about the Reformation, I have taken up lifting weights.

I am going for the "Xena, Warrior Princess" look.

2006-07-24T20:56:00.000-07:00

This job search thingummie is more fun than fun! Here are the interviews I have been on, thus far:

- Berkeley based alternative health mind body integration type place. They wanted an ombudsman of the customer service, marketing, and bookkeeping bent. One of my interviewers told me that I had the right "emotional skills" for the job. Nevertheless, they did not hire me.

- Emeryville based architecture firm. Wanted someone to do clerical and bookkeeping. Interview was with a very entertaining, somewhat crazy older guy who asked interview questions along the lines of "Finish the following sentence...'I Am'." Received a very nice letter telling me that they did not end up hiring me for that position.

- Berkeley based software company. Wanted someone to do high level tech support. Had fun group interview ever with the entire tech support staff. Geekiest people ever. I want to work there, having a natural fondness for geeks, and the ability to discuss anime shows with the best of them. However, inasmuch as my experience with tech support is non-existent, I doubt they will end up hiring me.

Interviews I have coming up this week:

- Berkeley based urban agriculture advocacy group. They need someone to help out with office work, scheduling, and so forth. Woo yay composting!

- San Francisco based nursing and maternity apparel company. They need someone to do online and customer service type stuff. Translation: all day phone work with pregnant ladies.

- San Francisco based non profit educational outfit. They need someone to help low-income students through the process of applying to colleges and getting financial aid. I didn't manage to get myself financial aid for the first two years of college...nevertheless, those who cannot do, teach. So they say.

Basically, job hunting is an opportunity to meet all kinds of interesting people who you wouldn't otherwise...and then, never talk to those interesting people again. Everybody wins!

2006-07-18T15:43:00.000-07:00

Wavelet and John Baby Manage Money:

JB: Tsing Tao or Sapporo?

W: Sapporo. Hmm, wait. That's $8.99 for a six pack. We could just get MGD.

JB: No, let's get the Sapporo. If you think about it, that's six beers for the price of two pints at a bar.

W: True, but...

JB: That's how I do economics!

2006-07-12T14:01:00.000-07:00

Jobs on Craigslist which I probably will not be applying for:

Job: Models Needed for Automotive Event - Huge Automotive showcase with many vendors comming to the San Jose in mid August. We need 20 Import models to meet and great customers and clients. Be cute fun and sassy! No experience neccesary. Please forward head shot and your best photo's with basic bio and experience.

Reason: The numerous punctuation errors indicate a lack of professionalism.

Job: "Adult-Video Enthusiast - Adult startup seeking temp- to full-time interns who are interested in helping us reach our lofty business goals before launching. We desperately need people for data entry and quality control of our
vast video library as we convert it to a digital format....Since we are still in startup mode, funded by a silent angel, you have the chance to remain here and move up within the company quickly. New administrative positions become available everyday as our business expands.

Reason: Prefer children's videos.

Job: STRANGE Program Coordinator - Mature, energetic and positive person is needed part-time to coordinate the STRANGE Program. The STRANGE Program of Youth Services, is a youth-driven, countywide program for transgender, bisexual, lesbian, gay, intersex, queer, and questioning (TBLGIQQ) youth ages 12-18 and their allies. The Coordinator of the STRANGE Program is the adult liaison to Gay Straight Alliances (GSA’s) in local High Schools and Middle Schools throughout Santa Cruz County. This position provides intra-community communication and social support for GLBT youth and their allies. The coordinator maintains an interactive collaboration with other GLBT community groups and organizations to foster STRANGE program growth and development. This is a part-time 8 hours per week position.

Reason: Too many acronyms.

Job: Aide for Small Special Education School - Applicants must have at least 2 years of college (degree prefered) and previous experience working with children who have behavioral problems. Responsibilities = leading a nutrition/cooking class 2 days per week and assisting credentialed staff as an aide 3 days per week.

Reason: Cook better when not cooking with children with behavioral problems.

Job: School Bus Driver - Black Tie Transportation in Pleasanton is looking for a bus driver -but- we don’t want just any bus driver. We want that special person who likes to deal with young people, teachers, and seniors, making their trips to museums and other attractions more enjoyable.

Reason: Do not believe self to be a special person.

Job: SUMMER JOBS WITH THE SIERRA CLUB! - Work with the Sierra Club this summer! Stop Oil Drilling Off Our Coasts!

Reason: Resent insinuation that I have been oil drilling.

2006-07-10T10:22:00.000-07:00

Did NOT get the Kaplan job. Dammit all. This is a short summary of my job searchiness:

- interviewed for a part time middle school science teaching position at a local, extremely expensive private school (I know, I said I wasn't going to teach, but it was a part time position, so...). The interviewer told me that they wanted me not to use textbooks (translation: we haven't found a good curriculum, so we want you to design one! for free!). Also, the school has no classroom discipline policy (translation: the parents are paying good money! let the kids act like monkeys if they want!). My mild expressions of dismay at both of these job features may have worked against me during the interview.

- interviewed with Kaplan. Apparently, being able to tutor the GRE Verbal section is too esoteric a skill. Or possibly my presentation on "how to write a thank you note" was not all that and a bag of chips. Who knows. Eh, they are a racket anyhow. I didn't want a cut of the cold hard cash they make off of young people's hopes and dreams anyway...wait, actually, I did...

- interviewed with two temp agencies. This was fun, because you get to take computer tests, and I have a perverse fondness for test taking. "Well, I may be unemployed, but this test demonstrates that I am a Master Excel User! Take THAT, universe!" Have not as of yet been assigned by either agency.

- talked to various East Bay tutoring companies. Most of them sound positive, but they aren't hiring until August.

- sent off numerous resumes and cover letters for administrative and tech support type positions on Craigslist (all other job posting sites are so hard to navigate and heavily riddled with spam as to be unusable). No response, but writing cover letters is extremely entertaining.

Well, this is all sort of disheartening. My sole consolation is that, thanks to my twelve month payment schedule, I am currently being paid full salary to do NOTHING WHATEVER.

2006-07-10T00:05:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed that, whenever there are creepy children (on X-Files or the like), they are always creepy blond children?

The only sensible solution is to quarantine them at birth.

2006-07-08T11:03:00.000-07:00

Why do the rad trads got to be hating? It seems like many of their more bitterly held tenets (e.g. women should not wear pants to Mass, Latin is TEH AWESOME!) are largely aesthetic preferences. As such, any disagreement between the rad trads and, um, members of the NOVUS ORDO CONSPIRACY should be settled as follows:

"Pants at Mass for all!"

"BOOO!"

"Pants at Mass for none!"

"BOOOO!"

"OK...Pants at Mass for some, floor length floral skirts and mantillas for others!"

"YAAAAAY!"

But it just can't be that easy.

Aaaaaaanyway. John Baby posted yesterday on these, and other less savory views of the angry young radical tradical. Within minutes, three rad trads had posted long comments in rebuttal(?). Lesson learned: rad trads check their referral logs early and often, aaand have a lot of free time on their hands!

Erin is nice will back me up on this.

2006-07-06T10:50:00.000-07:00

Wedding dress: acquired.

It was very easy. I walked into a store which carried vintage reproduction type bridal styles, tried on two dresses, and brought this one home. Take THAT, bridal industry!

Of course, this was after much web searching and forum browsing and hand wringing. Also, I made one trip to a truly loathsome bridal warehouse, which was peddling ugly polyester dresses at absurd prices. Polyester does not equal pretty princess, people!

2006-06-28T14:20:00.000-07:00

I bought a suit. It makes me feel like a genuine grownup. This is what "normal" jobs entail, yes? Walking around in high heels and wearing a suit? Sign me up!

On the other hand, the mail lady today looked me up and down when I came to the door and then asked me if there were any adults home to sign for a package.

Must be the freckles...

2006-06-25T15:53:00.000-07:00

Back in Berkeley. Now living in a shed in my parent's backyard. Ostensibly to save money for the nuptials, but really because I like the Groundskeeper Willie motif.

Reflections on teaching middle school:

Middle schoolers are monstrosities. I mean this in the kindest possible way. Their bodies and chemical systems are in the process of tearing themselves down and re-assembling themselves in a different configuration; in the interim, they are Frankenstein style amalgamations of adult and child. They are itchy and uncomfortable with themselves, and therefore uncomfortable with the universe in general. Also, they have not yet learned to use deoderant.

School is almost certainly the worst possible place for the incipient adolescent. Taking multitudinous individuals who are insecure in themselves and seeking status and identity of some kind, any kind, and then lumping them together and expecting them to focus, learn, and behave in a civil manner to each other...is a totally dumb idea. Really, the best thing to do would be to put them in positions of authority over those younger than themselves, and give them some kind of genuinely useful function in the company of those who are older. Denying them both function and responsibility of any kind, and allowing them to associate primarily with only those of their own age, is bound to produce an artificial and unhealthy form of society, Lord-of-the-Flies-ish even.

Middle schoolers are at the age when they begin to ask interesting questions; when they start to seek a rational understanding of childhood beliefs. My religion students tended to be more interested in sin than in salvation. They delighted in proposing moral dilemmas, e.g. "So, if you were going to rob a bank, but it was in order to feed your family..." or "So, if you got drunk, but it was because the punch was spiked...," and puzzling out the culpability. Middle schoolers are casuists, end of story.

Middle schoolers are emotionally raw. They can be exultant today, despondent the next. They may confess doubts one day, and feign invulnerability the next day. As such, they are rather emotionally draining to be around, especially en masse.

Catholic private independent schools are probably a superior environment for middle schoolers to be in, if they had to be in a school. They certainly learn more, and get better test scores, than they do at most schools, public or private (and with far less money expended per student). Still, Catholic private independent schools have few resources at their avail, and teachers tend to "make do, or do without." No janitor, no substitute teachers, eight disparate classes to prep, teach, and grade...lots of freedom, but also lots of responsibility...broken toilets, exhausted administration, the occasional ant colony and bee swarm invasions...

In any event:

I'm not teaching next year.

More updates about My Life in the Civilized Half of the State to follow.

2006-04-30T12:31:00.000-07:00

This "not having the internet" thing is becoming tedious. I'm going to have to watch literally weeks of marginally funny Flash cartoons and movie clips just to catch up on the latest memes.

Also, I can't actually view my blog from my computer at work, due to the family friendly ISP they use here. Apparently everything found at blogspot.com is not healthy for children and other living things. Hohum.

2006-04-26T21:34:00.000-07:00

Right now, John Baby and I think this is a totally hot wedding look.

Only...not...

2006-04-21T18:15:00.000-07:00

Now we are in Tacoma, WA, in order to hang out with John's family and recently minted niece. We rented a car to get up here, an actually comfortable car with a decent sound system. People actually obey the speed limit here. Also, as opposed to Southern California, a light rain storm does not mean that there is at least one crumpled wreck per ten miles of highway.

Weeeird.

Also, they have signs on the side of the I-5 which depict a black glove, thumb extended, with a red slashed circle over it. It either means "no hitch-hikers" or "no hand puppets," we haven't quite decided.

2006-04-16T09:55:00.000-07:00

John and I made the trip from San Diego to Berkeley for Easter in my small but sturdy '91 Honda Civic. The car does not have air conditioning, so we had to roll down the windows and conduct conversations at a bellow. Also, the car does not have a sound system, so we made do by hooking up a car adaptor up to a cheap boombox, balanced precariously on a bundle of blankets in the back seat and belching out tinny tunes. Further, John is so tall, and the car is so tiny, that he spent the whole trip with his knees basically around his ears. Finally, the suspension on the car is so bad that every jolt and pot hole is absorbed by the passenger's spinal coloumn, more or less uninterrupted. By the time we made it to Berkeley, we were partially deaf and mostly crippled.

Hurrah!

2006-04-05T15:37:00.000-07:00

I think, for the last two weeks of Lent, we should give up something really difficult...like a verb tense.

"I'm sorry, I have given up the present perfect tense for Lent. Wait. Doh! I am giving up the present perfect tense! Am giving!"

2006-04-04T10:05:00.000-07:00

I've moved in with some teachers from the school. Their place is more spacious, and has a kitchen. However, they do not have the internet...not even dial-up. Gah. I'll probably end up chewing my hands off before too terribly long.

The kids are really sad that I'm not coming back next school year. I'm sort of sad to leave them, too. Even if they are evil. Oh well. I taught them how to sing They Might Be Giant's "The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas," told them a few Star Trek jokes, gave my opinion, when asked, on everything from the utility of geometry to the merits of Orlando Bloom, and made them draw comic books in Latin...that will be my legacy.

2006-03-30T10:53:00.000-08:00

Dear The Internets,

Here is the shit which has gone down since last week:

ahem...Saturday, John Baby proposed. While Hot Chocolate's "You Sexy Thing" was looping on my computer in the background. So very romantic.

Monday, it became increasingly evident that my new next door neighbors were manufacturing meth in their apartment. Chemical smell increasing in frequency and strength.

Tuesday, called the land lady, and then the police.

Wednesday, officially homeless. It seems like it will take a while for this whole situation to be resolved, and the fumes were making me physically ill, and are also potentially toxic/combustible....also, meth-addled neighbors potentially having a shoot out with the police doesn't sound like fun to me....so now I am couch surfing with some tolerant lady teachers. I'll need to find a new place, I guess? Meanwhile, hoping my book collection doesn't get bullet riddled, melted, or caught on fire in my absence.

Thursday, John Baby discovers that his ATM number and PIN have been used to withdraw the entirety of his bank account at an ATM in Chicago. Probably due to the Office Depot purchases he has made this year...apparently Office Depot, among other merchants, have had their systems compromised and allowed people to manufacture usable ATM cards with PINs to match.

Friday...?

Anyway. We're getting married, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Please attend our wedding in January! With our luck, there will be a direct meteor strike right after the cake cutting!

2006-03-25T12:09:00.000-08:00

Wavelet and John Baby have more fun.

Bio-ethics discussion de-railed:

W: Wait, how long has beer been around?

JB: Thousands of years, I think?

W: That is long enough to explain why guys are the way they are! Beer goggles have become an evolutionary advantage!

JB: Um...

W: Seriously. The man who stops and thinks about whether or not he should have children at this point in time and with this woman? Not having very many children. The man who is all "You're pretty when I'm drunk"? His seed will live long in the land.

This is why they call him Smoove John B:

JB: It's funny, but whenever I see movies now, I find something that reminds me of you in every actress.

W: Hmm.

JB: For example, tonight, Natalie Portman [in "V is for Vendetta"]...well, maybe I shouldn't say this, it isn't very romantic.

W: Shoot.

JB: Well, after Natalie Portman had her head shaved, all I could think was "She has a hairy neck, just like Wavelet!"

2006-03-21T20:35:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm beginning the arduous process of escaping Southern California. I've been in SoCal for...six years now? Too long. I've already been infected with a genuine speech impediment (saying "like" far more often than I would rather), had my car rear-ended four times (and nearly smooshed by pickup trucks and SUVs pretty much every day), and still haven't taken up surfing. However, I'll have escaped without ever having my eyebrows waxed or getting a pedicure. I win I win I win!

The destination: NorCal Bay Area. I'm currently looking around for teaching positions up there. Putting together statements of purpose and whatnot is tons of fun. One thing I've discovered about myself, though, while evaluating my strengths and weaknesses, is that I am really and truly not a leader. I would rather spend twenty hours working on something myself than twenty minutes organizing several people to do the work in two hours. My aversion to telling other people what to do (other than qua critic or teacher) knows no bounds. I am probably happiest taking other people's ideas and refining/perfecting/implementing them. If I got people to work on my bright ideas, I'd feel personally responsible if everything went to shite. I'd much rather be a blissfully inculpable flunky type.

Frankly, I find those who want to lead other people inexplicable at best, insane at worst. It's a good thing the world isn't made up of people like me. Productivity would grind to a halt as we all side-stepped participating in any form of decision making whatever.

2006-03-15T08:15:00.000-08:00

Even though I live alone, I still have a habit of opening up the fridge, peering in, seeing no edible food, wandering away, and then, twenty minutes later, opening the fridge again and peering in expectantly, perhaps in the hopes that the magical fridge fairy has replenished the supply of tasty food in the interim.

Or maybe I'm just waiting for the wilted vegetables to throw a little party in there, Peewee's Playhouse style.

2006-03-09T19:10:00.000-08:00

In this first picture, the John Baby and I look all proportional and such.

But in the second, our true height disparity is revealed. Yes, that is me on the left.

2006-03-05T15:54:00.000-08:00

We are family.

2006-03-01T21:00:00.000-08:00

Why is it...that every Ash Wednesday, the priest or deacon always administers the ashes above my left eyebrow? Everyone else gets nice, neat ashes smack dab in the center of their forehead. Mine are always way out in left field. Perhaps my face is askew, and I didn't notice?

Next time, I'm going to draw a bullseye on my forehead in purple felt pen. I want my Catholic bindi to look symmetrical, dammit!

2006-02-22T20:46:00.000-08:00

I've been having an on again, off again intellectual war with my sixth grade class about whether or not you can call zero the middle of all numbers. I maintain that you cannot, since to call something the middle means that it divides something into equal parts, which, since there are infinite positive and negative numbers, cannot be the case; you can't call two infinites equal in the same way that two finites are equal. They maintain that you can call zero the middle of all numbers, since, see, there is a correlation between every positive and every negative number. Hence, equality! So, zero is the middle!

Frankly, it just tickles me that they find the discussion at all interesting. They keep bringing it up, too. I should spring some of the dialogues of Galileo on them, assuming the role of Simplicius...

2006-02-20T13:21:00.000-08:00

Things I have been up to:

Last weekend - the Edith Stein conference, in Notre Dame. My sis and I were among the few out-of-town attendees, but I'm sure that next year the conference will attract more attention. The topic of the conference was redefining feminism in accordance with JP II's call for a new feminism. The speakers were on the whole quite good, although there was a bit of preaching to the choir re: abortion/contraception/pornography. I think it's a safe bet that people attending a conference about Edith Stein are probably aware that pr0n is teh bad for women.

Things that I enjoyed hearing pointed out:

Lay women who are mothers now have the ability to contribute to philosophy and theology, and in so doing could give an unprecedented insight into many issues. Elizabeth Anscombe is probably the foremost example of this.

Those who are against higher education for women, inasmuch as such higher education does not directly prepare women for baby-making/caring (and there are some Catholics, men and women, who hold this opinion) implicitly consider childcare a purely material endeavour. If, really, taking care of kids involves only changing their diapers and putting food in their mouths, then yeah, arguably, the education or lack thereof on the part of the mother wouldn't matter a bit. However, being a mother to children involves not just nourishing their bodies, but also cultivating their souls. The more well rounded your education has been, the more you are able to transmit to your kidlings a love of the true, good, and beautiful. True education is never a waste, even if you do go ahead and spend your life homeschooling children.

Things I wish were addressed (but weren't):

I was baffled when many of the speakers made reference to women's loss of dignity in our day and age/culture. Sure, contraception, pornography, and abortion all rob women of dignity. However, do women as a whole have less dignity now then they did at any other point in the history of the West? No one made any arguments to that effect.

Pope John Paul II is not the only feminist. I would have loved to hear a treatment of the feminist movement, per se, especially on what good can be brought out of early feminist thought.

It seems to me that the Church has done much to reverse the Greco-Roman view of women as beautiful but better kept in the background (just as the Church worked against slavery and infant exposure and other social ills). However, the Church still existed in a culture which had a seriously warped view of women. This definitely had some effect (e.g. Tertullian calling women the "gateways of hell"). I would be interested in seeing a history of the evolution of the Church's thought on the role of women, written from the perspective of a non-lunatic.

2006-02-20T13:14:00.000-08:00

Things I have been up to (pt II):

This weekend - Southern California makes another attempt on my life. There was a smattering of rain on Friday night, which is enough to bring out the crazy in every SoCal driver. There was a ridiculously giant multi-car pileup in the far right hand lane, which, for added fun, had no shoulder. I was able to stop in time, but got hit from behind by a motorcycle. Fortunately, I was still moving when I got hit, and the motorcyclist was braking, so he, miraculously, was uninjured. Another car ran over his bike, though (he was already off the bike), and apparently the crashes continued piling up. I managed to get around the rest of the wrecks and pull over on the shoulder, so my frail little tin can of a Honda Civic didn't get crunched. According to the drivers I was chatting with while waiting to talk to the CHP, no one was injured in the entire crash---unbelievable luck, since the cars getting hauled out of there were completely crumpled, with wheels askew and everything. In any event. I'm fine, the car is a bit dented, the cyclist who hit me is fine, and in all respects this was the most fortunate way possible I could have been involved in a rainy multi-car pileup. God is very good.

Oh, and one other disturbing thing about the experience---I tried calling 911 on my cell phone, and got put on hold. For, like, a minute. At least they didn't play muzak. Now I know what I'm NOT going to do if there is a rabid ax-murderer chasing me around.

2006-02-08T16:32:00.000-08:00

I spotted a permutation of the "here is my family in stick figure form" bumper decoration meme. This Jetta driver had the normal stick figure line up---himself, two kids, and a dog---but in the spot where the stick figure mom would normally go, he had a sticker which said "VACANT." Thus advertising the fact that he was a single dad on the prowl.

How could this possibly help his dating prospects? Is he hoping that women will rear end him in traffic as an excuse to meet him, all romantic comedy style? "Oh, and, uh, I see you have a stick figure mom vacancy...want to grab coffee sometime?"

2006-02-04T11:41:00.000-08:00

pants-wettingly funny incident:

John Baby and I were sitting outside at a corner cafe, at about 11 pm last night. The night was pretty quiet, except for two guys who were having some kind of altercation across the street. One guy began to walk away, and the other, the apparent source of all the noise, began walking toward us, shouting "FUCK the pack of cigarettes, WHERE is my fucking PHONE?!?!?" Then, directed towards no-one in particular: "Yeah, you heard me...WHERE is my fucking PHONE?!?" Finally, he reached the corner where we were, and began savagely hitting the walk button for the traffic light. He stood there fuming for a few seconds, then announced: "FUCK this shit. AIN'T NO TRAFFIC!!!" and crossed the (completely deserted) street.

I wouldn't want to come between Mr. Furious and his phone. Nosirree. He totally showed those traffic laws, too.

2006-01-29T13:52:00.000-08:00

Gung Hay Fat Choy, y'all!

Hey, it's the Year of the Dog. That's the same year I was born. This year, I'm given to understand, I get +2 damage on all successful casts of magic missile. Booyah!

Topically, Chaz points all men of good will to: this.

2006-01-28T08:16:00.000-08:00

Mostly, when I discuss my teaching experiences, I tell the horror stories. All those laser pointers I had to confiscate from the seventh grade boys (and then proceeded to play with, to make them jealous)? Comedy gold. The high school kids wrapping themselves in duct tape (which they nicked from the emergency box, I might add), and then, after they were all thoroughly swathed, somehow getting the roll of duct tape stuck so far up someone's arm that they couldn't get it off, and running through the high school in hysterics? Pretty darn funny.

However, besides children being more entertaining than teevee, there's another reason I enjoy going to work every morning. That being, I teach at least one genuine saint. At an age when, to most kids, peer approval means everything, this sixth grade girl doesn't care a bit which of her classmates are "cool," and which not. She includes everyone, befriends everyone, and remains oblivious to all the petty social machinations which seem part and parcel of the middle school experience. Her thoughts revolve around the lives of saints and how to love others. I'm not sure I'm getting this across properly, but she's just peaceful, holy, and happy, in a way that strikes me as saintly. Of course, her classmates love her. And as for me, I now have a tangible reason to be mostly good; out of fear of a be-freckled mini-saint who I have to face every day.

2006-01-21T20:02:00.000-08:00

I made the two hour trek to the grandparent's house this afternoon. Along the way, I marveled at the number of asshats out there driving pickup trucks. It's as if Ford dealerships have a certain set of asshat criterion which must be fulfilled before they'll sell you a truck. The pickup truck driver, as a species, has a blithe disregard for the rules of the road, and they have cumulatively made numerous attempts on my life, mostly via nearly swerving into me in a fit of asshat whimsy.

Further, if multiple guys are leaning out the window and hollering at me during a traffic jam, they are almost always driving a pickup truck. I imagine their conversation in the truck, pre-hollering, went something like this:

"Oh I say, old bean, there's a single female driver in traffic beside us!"

"How marvelous. Should one or the other of us yell at her, do you think?"

"I think that would be simply smashing. Just...do you think it would be entirely proper?"

"Well, faint heart never won fair lady, old chap!"

"Too true. All right, I'll give it a go. Ahem. HEY BABY, CAN I HIT THAT?!?!? CAN I HIT THAT?!?!?!"

"Oh how droll! Here, I'll try. DO YA THINK WE'RE HOT? DO YA?!?!"

"I am in stitches, my good fellow! But I'm running out of ideas."

"Well, that first thing you shouted was a bit of good."

"Capital! I'll reuse it. HEY BABY! CAN I HIT THAT??!?! CAN I HIT THAT?!?!?!"

"Who could resist our siren call, what what? Oh dear. Traffic is moving again."

"C'est la vie, old bean, c'est la vie."

2006-01-17T17:41:00.000-08:00

I don't wear much makeup to teach class. My mornings are rushed enough as it is, and the only people I see during a typical school day are my twelve-fourteen year old students, my mostly married or female coworkers, and the gym teacher (who, God bless him, eats his sushi with a fork).

On one occasion, though, I did wear lipstick to class. My students were tremendously impressed by this, commented on it several times, and still refer back to the occasion wistfully. Sometimes I'll call on one of them, and it will turn out that they do not want to tell me about apostolic succession, nor still do they have a question about the titles of the Church; instead, they want to know "When will you wear lipstick again, Miss P?"

It's a bit over the top. Then last week, I wore a new skirt for the first time in...a while. This set them into ecstasies. The quality and color of the skirt were extolled. Suggestions of which of my (five or so) shirts I could pair with it were given. Finally, after I thought the novelty had died down, Katie raised her hand with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Miss P?" "Yes?" "You know what would go good with that new skirt?" "Nooo.." "That lipstick you wore the one time."

2006-01-15T13:18:00.000-08:00

Mel tagged me, so I guess the internet will just have to deal with my top five weirdest habits list thing:

1. Before making any major life changes, I cut my hair - The Spartans braided their hair before going into battle...I chop my hair off before taking a new job, moving, etc.

2. The less comfortable I am around people, the larger my vocabulary gets - If I don't know someone well, or am for some other reason less than bestest buddies with them, I tend to speak in terms of long, stilted sentences littered with ten dollar words. e.g. to a friend I would say "Hi, how's it goin?!" but to someone I don't know well, it's more likely to turn out "Hello, and how is your day proceeding...today? The weather patterns recently have been, um, splendid." This habit embarrasses the hell out of me, but the more embarrassed I am, the more grandiloquent my speech patterns get. Just shoot me now.

3. Perpetual fear of bank statements - For some reason, getting my bank statements in the mail fills me with terror, even though I don't live beyond my means and have never overdrawn my account. So, I've worked around the situation by only checking my bank statements online. Ditto my credit card bill and my phone bill. As long as it isn't in an envelope, I'm fine.

4. I fall asleep at parties - I find having lots of people standing around and talking very soothing. Combine that with alcohol, and you'll usually find me curled up in an armchair asleep before the end of the evening. Put a funny hat on me and then leave me in peace, please.

5. Compulsive buying of abstruse books - I often buy books which I know, in my heart of hearts, that I'm never going to read, but which I feel I would like to have read (e.g. the multiple tomes on calculus I've accumulated over the years). Some people buy clothes in a size too small, to motivate themselves to lose weight...I buy books which require more mental effort than I'm capable of, in an effort to motivate myself to be smarter.

I probably have weirder habits than these, feel free to point out any I've missed. Tag: Chaz, Deirdre, Dan.

2006-01-11T21:21:00.000-08:00

AAAIIIEEE!!!

I'm all for an integrated curriculum. But this is just silly.

2006-01-09T20:12:00.000-08:00

Reasons to break up with Aristotle:

1. Believes that men and women can never truly be friends. Hence, sees nothing wrong with spending Friday nights watching television in silence together.

2. Is unduly sensitive about bald spot. Keeps claiming that baldness is a sign of virility.

3. Insists on paternal right to expose unsatisfactory infants (e.g. those born deformed, or female, or looking likely to turn into a natural slave).

4. Wants you to hand feed him peeled grapes while he contemplates examples along the lines of:

"Let us suppose a time ABC and a thing D, D being white in the time A and not-white in the time B. Then D is at the moment C white and not-white: for, if we were right in saying that it is white during the whole time A, it is true to call it white at any moment of A, and not-white in B, and C is in both A and B. We must not allow, therefore, that it is white in the whole of A, but must say that it is so in all of it except the last moment C. C belongs already to the later period, and if in the whole of A not-white was in process of becoming and white of perishing, at C the process is complete. And so C is the first moment of which it is true to call the thing white or not-white respectively."

5. Can be kinda smug.

Reasons to break up with Nietzche:

1. Has syphilis.

2006-01-05T23:12:00.000-08:00

Ever since I started reading Understanding Media, I've been asking myself "What would Marshall McLuhan say?" about pretty much everything.

For instance: there are a disproportionate number of Asians who swing dance. WHAT WOULD MCLUHAN SAY?!

I'm not really sure, but it might well involve the Eastern nonlineal intuition of that which is funky. Jazz, according to McLuhan, represents an end to the Western "homogeneous and repetitive rhythms." Here's another choice quote:

"Jazz is alive, like conversation; and like conversation it depends upon a repertory of available themes. But performance is composition. Such performance insures maximal participation among players and dancers alike. Put in this way, it becomes obvious at once that jazz belongs in that family of mosaic structures that reappeared in the Western world with the wire services. It belongs with symbolism in poetry, and with the many allied forms in painting and in music."

Further, swing dancers participate in "syncopation and symbolist discontinuity that, like relativity and quantum physics, heralded in the end of the Gutenburg era with its smooth, uniform lines of type and organization."

Subvert Gutenburg, and slap that bass! Really, I have no idea what McLuhan is talking about half the time, but I know that I like it.

2005-12-29T22:42:00.000-08:00

Ah, the new year. A time for reflection, or perhaps refraction; a time to burn a new leaf, to straighten up and fly right. In that vein, I present a Punk Rock Philosopher Best of 2005 type list. As you may have observed, Punk Rock Philosopher is composed of 10% Catholicism/philosophy, 10% maudlin maunderings in the woe-is-me vein, and 80% stuff which I find funny. Stuff which I find funny is still topical, though; one of the tenets of punk rock philosophy is that the world is filled with absurdities, and that the best way to cope with the absurd is to laugh (alternate methods of coping tend to be more expensive, destructive, or spiritually rigorous).

Catholicism/philosophy:

Easter vs. Christmas
contraception
vocation bunny
catholic guilt

Maudlin maunderings:

a gross story
why meeeeee

Stuff which I find funny:

Time management for the uber-lazy
romantic misadventures (and another, etc)
amazing monkey girl!
in case of emergency
teens in paris
illness of Biblical proportions

2005-12-27T14:56:00.000-08:00

I must be the only person on Earth to lose weight over the holidays.

Trust me, you don't want to know why...

2005-12-26T12:46:00.000-08:00

My little* brother and I. I'm the one on the left wearing novelty goggles.

* "little" is said loosely

2005-12-21T11:22:00.000-08:00

Here is a riff on 1 Corinthians 12:4-11, which I composed in honor of my families' Yuletide health status (or lack thereof):

"Now there are varieties of symptoms, but the same illness; and there are varieties of ailments, but the same affliction; and there are varieties of bodily fluids produced, but it is the same illness which inspires them all in every one. To each is given the manifestation of the affliction for the common bad. To one is given through the illness the malady of diarrhea, and to another the malady of vomiting, according to the same illness, to another headache by the same illness, to another fever by the same illness, to another the ague, to another a multitude of blechy symptoms. All these are inspired by one and the same illness, which apportions to each one individually as it wills."

2005-12-16T16:37:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, my students gave me:

an insane amount of chocolate...I have six or seven pounds of it on my kitchen table, no joke

some very nice wine

two scarves, a pair of fuzzy socks, and some gloves

finally, a pair of Stewie bedroom slippers which say "Victory shall be mine!"

Do they know me, or what?!?! Now I can spend Christmas being fat, drunk, and warm. Mmmmboy.

2005-12-14T16:58:00.000-08:00

Oh yes, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. But look! Here I am as a Southpark character!

Yesterday the kids were very horrid, and I contemplated skipping town on the next freight train and playing a mouth harp for spare change, far far from the middle school madding horde. Today, the kids were very good (we created! we discussed!), and I thought to myself "man, this job is awesome." C'est la vie.

A huge thank you to all the dear friends, anonymous commentators and assorted throwers of poo who've called/sent emails/posted comments/whatever. You guys can crash my pity party any time.

2005-12-11T00:36:00.000-08:00

I'm fairly bad at verbalizing negative emotions. I'm usually the one who maintains, the one who talks people down...I blame oldest-girl-syndrome. Oldest girls have an instinct to be calm and responsible, no matter what. Really, someone should film an oldest girl documentary. It'll be right up there with "Trekkies."

I've been fairly good at staying calm this week. I've been giving the eighth graders rides to see Narnia (stop sticking your heads out the window, y'all, and no, I don't have a radio, thanks for pointing that out), and telling the middle schoolers to hush during the Christmas pageant (the second graders are trying to sing! SHUT UP!), and even downing a glass of wine or four at a holiday party (at which I met one of the prefects from my freshman year...hunh...small world...but she can't give me hours anymore, bwahahah!).

But now...I feel like...being very negative. Perhaps kicking a chair, softly, so as to avoid hurting its feelings. Perhaps going ahead and drinking that fourth glass of wine. Perhaps smoking clove cigarettes and listening to Bauhaus. Anything is possible.

In all seriousness, though, I feel like I've been partially eviscerated, and then run over with a steamroller. Twice. I shoulda been a nun. Father Michael always said I had a vocation...

2005-12-08T00:51:00.000-08:00

BLAH.

Just broke up with the boyf, and there isn't a drop of alcohol in the house. Also, I drank all the eggnog. And I've sworn off coffee. See below. Where's the self medication when I need it?!?!?!

He was a very nice guy, honest, upright, and so forth. We broke up for the sake of hypothetical children (won't someone please think of the children?); he decided that he wasn't comfy with the idea of raising a brood of Papists, after all (being Prot, himself). The prospect of finding one of his general description, only this time in new improved Catholic flavor, just makes my head hurt.

2005-12-06T17:19:00.000-08:00

Conversation between the eighth grade boys today...

Boy 1: "I have this amazing ability to distinguish between what is butter, and what is not butter."
Boy 2: "Don't be silly, nobody can do that!"

In other news, I've been coffee free for the past week. This is partly an exercise in Advent penitence, partly an effort to determine what my personality is like in the absence of stimulants. Some people experiment with drugs; I experiment with not taking drugs! Anyway, the effects of caffeine abstention have been interesting. The headaches and sluggishness wore off after a couple of days, and I was left with a sense of uncharacteristic calm. This is good, in some ways; I'm nowhere near as easily irritated (and believe me, life with the middle schoolers can be very irritating). However, I also feel as if my brain cells have settled in for a long winter nap. So, which is better...tense, jittery, and smart, or calm, mellow, and dull?

2005-12-03T14:13:00.000-08:00

One of my fellow teachers told me that when he was in the pre-theologate program, he and his classmates would spend their free time flipping through liturgical supply catalogs, picking out chalices and ciboriums and so forth.

I think that's incredibly cute. Priest-boys playing house!

While we're on a Catholic riff, I'd like to point y'all to Godspy. An online Catholic magazine which isn't particularly stupid! Yay!

I recommend: "Why Do Heathens Make the Best Films", and also this guy's account of how, at 13, he thought he was the Antichrist.

2005-12-01T20:34:00.000-08:00

My new next door neighbors have a seriously dysfunctional relationship with their dog.

For instance, they have long, pleading conversations with it in the backyard along the lines of: "Come here boy! Come here! Come! I said come! Come here! Come! Come here boy! Bad dog! Come!"

Also, a few nights ago, a commotion of sorts woke me up. This is what one of the neighbors was shouting: "HE PISSED THE BED! THE F*CKING DOG PISSED THE BED!!!" Afterwards, there was some thumping, door slamming, and the inevitable chorus of "BAD DOG! BAD DOG!"

These people would obviously be better off with an iguana.

2005-11-24T18:55:00.000-08:00

I hope that all of you are as full of Tofurkey as I am.

2005-11-20T20:27:00.000-08:00

My bed is falling apart.

By way of explanation, when I first moved into Chez Wavelet, I was so busy running around and attending teacher inservices and whathaveyou that I didn't go bed shopping for a week and a half. When I finally went to a mattress type store, it was without preparation or price comparison; I just wanted to stop sleeping on the floor. So, for reasons that I cannot presently recall, I bought a metal futon frame and mattress. Also, I did not pay to have it assembled. I think my logic was "I've looked over other people's shoulders while they were assembling furniture and offered helpful advice scads of time! Scads! Surely this translates into furniture assembling ability...nay, furniture assembling acumen!"

So, they dropped the futon components in all their fragmented glory off at my apartment. The mattress frame and end pieces were bulky, and heavy, and I'm rather a wimp, so I ended up propping various pieces on boxes in an effort to keep them balanced while I screwed other pieces into them. As time went on, my efforts began to diverge from those recommended by the (cryptic) instruction manual. Things kept sliding off, or falling off, or failing to fit. I'm not really sure how I concluded the construction, but I remember that at the end, I had something which looked very much like a bed frame...and several leftover nuts, bolts, screws, and so forth. By then, I was too frustrated to figure out what went wrong, so I shoved the futon in the corner and called it good. Not very good, mind you...

Since that day, a year or so ago, various pieces have been dropping off of the bed frame. First it was washers...then screws...now entire spring things have started to come loose. At this point, it's less together than it is apart. Still, it remains standing. But the end could come any day.

In conclusion, donations to buy me a hammock are solicited. As long as it's one of those no assembly required kinds.

2005-11-19T18:49:00.000-08:00

You have no idea how tiring it is to be cheerful and rational and a good example for the impressionable younguns all the livelong day.

Perhaps I'll do more skateboarding off roofs and prank calling congressmen on my off days, to make up for it.

2005-11-18T17:50:00.000-08:00

this is a wonderful idea

2005-11-15T07:37:00.000-08:00

Catechetical instruction is an activity fraught with danger. Yesterday, for example, I asked my sixth graders to illustrate the corporal works of mercy (e.g. feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty...). Most of them chose to depict "clothe the naked" in a rather literal manner. In fact, most of them drew themselves finding a naked person wandering around outside, and offering them some clothing.

So, here is a PSA whether or not you are in sixth grade:

If you see a naked guy wandering around your local park, do not proceed to chase him around the picnic benches in an effort to clothe him. Rather, leave the area and contact the authorities. Or possibly turn on the sprinkler system.

This happened during my childhood more than you would think. Of course, I grew up in Berkeley.

2005-11-12T14:19:00.000-08:00

Parent teacher conferences are over. I love love loooooove most of the parents. They are, by and large, sweet rational helpful human beings who try in all things to do the best for their children, and I'm privileged to be a part of their educational efforts. A new parent came in to tell me how happy her girl, Jasmin*, was in my class, and how much more confident she is in her own abilities. I just about started sniffling, right there.

On the other hand, there is the occasional nutter. I feel sorry for the children of such parents, but really, I'm not doing the kids much good. The model that their parents give them will affect their lives far more than any of my natterings on morality or the pursuit of truth for truth's sake or the importance of not being an utter pain in the arse all the livelong day.

So, really, I'm quite superfluous. The kids of good parents will turn out more or less all right, and my example is not needed; they already have a love of learning and the virtuous life modeled at home. The kids of nutter parents will walk in the way of their forefathers no matter what I say. So why bother? Why not just pack it all in and choose a profession with more dignity and and cash flow...such as, say, a garbage collecter, or meter reader?

Such thoughts occasionally cross my mind. But then I think of Jasmin, who is one of the sweetest kids I've ever been able to teach. When she entered my class, it was obvious that her previous school had let her down. She was afraid of saying a thing in class, afraid of looking foolish, afraid of being mocked. It took some time to convince her that learning can be enjoyable, that the word "test" wasn't something to flinch from, that I would never give her sarcastic answers to her honest questions.

So, in the warped set of scales which measure my overall sense of fulfillment, you have on one side: a happy child who needed my help. On the other, among other things: attempting to teach the first declension to hormone-addled proto-adolescents, having to wonder whether one more car ailment will mean ramen for dinner FOREVER, and the occasional nutter parent (and offspring thereof).

I can't tell whether I'm taking this life thing too seriously, or not seriously enough.

*not her real name

2005-11-11T16:26:00.000-08:00

aluminum foil hats help the government read your mind

What a quandary for the paranoid. The only solution is helmets made entirely of meat.

2005-11-07T19:43:00.001-08:00

My sixth graders are very competitive. Unfortunately, so caught up are they in succeeding in the game of Getting Good Grades and Being Popular and BEING NUMBER ONE DAMMIT!!! that they occasionally trash talk each other. They'll say things along the lines of "I don't want him/her on our team!" or "How come you finished that test so slowly?" or "HA!!! You're wrong! Miss P says so!"

So, I gave them a Father Michael style talk on charity. Father Michael, a chaplain at my college, and a very sweet and earnest sort of a priest, tended to give short sermons on either:

the life of a saint

one of the pettier vices

Sometimes the latter sermons bordered on the amusing or absurd, as in his condemnation of dancing alone (by which I think he meant the bump and grind), and his treatment of the importance of throwing out blouses and skirts which one has outgrown (an oblique reference to immodestly tight clothing). On the whole, though, most of us are quite petty sinners, and so petty sermons are appropriate and useful.

I imparted to the sixth graders a piece of advice which Father Michael gave me (doubtless after I had confessed, for the sixth time in a row, the desire to strike certain of my section mates over the head with a truncheon). Whenever you see someone who really annoys you, or about whom you are tempted to think or speak something uncharitable (e.g. "Shut up and DIE!!"), say a quick, silent Hail Mary for them. This really works wonders on one's overall charity level...well, eventually...

Anyhoo, the sixth graders seemed thoroughly chastened. No more smack talking for them. They're going to straighten up and fly right from here on out. Yup yup.

2005-11-07T19:43:00.000-08:00

best drinking game EVER!

2005-11-04T07:32:00.000-08:00

In 2008, the Presidential race will be between Zod and Cthulthu.

2005-11-01T10:16:00.000-08:00

Our school had its annual All Saint's Day carnival; fake swords and fantastic St. Sebastian impaled-with-arrows style costumes for all! Miss G and I were standing around, watching the action. A pint-sized girl ran by in a nun costume.

Miss G: "Aw, it's a little nun!"
Girl (in a very snippy tone of voice): "I'm not a nun, I'm a tertiary!"
Miss G: "So you're St. Catherine of Sienna, then?"
Girl (mollified): "Yes."

Heehee.

Last night, we (boyf and I) went to an All Hallow's Eve Vespers/Litany of the Saints type thing. The Litany of the Saints was sung during a candle light procession. What I love best about those is that there is always, ALWAYS some little kid who sets his paper candle holder on fire. So you hear "Sancte Phillipe...ora pro nobis...Sancte Bartolomaee...ora pro nobis...Sancte Matthaee...ACK! DROP IT! PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT!"

2005-10-30T17:04:00.000-08:00

What I love best about this movie is the kid in the background who is so completely absorbed in his video game that he's ignoring what's going on. That's life in a boy's dorm room for you.

Not that I've ever, um, lived in a boy's dorm room. We had sex-segregated dormitories at TAC. Little known fact: my college required women to beat a gong and yell "unclean, unclean!" whenever we walked around campus, so that the men could flee ahead of us and avoid becoming tainted.

But at least, unlike at Magdalen, we were not, strictly speaking, required to wear shapeless jumpers made of sackcloth.

2005-10-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

when I say pump that
y'all say shit up

pump that
SHIT UP!

pump that
SHIT UP!

when I say stand up
y'all say get up

stand up
GET UP!

stand up
GET UP!

(this lyrical interlude is brought to you by The Roots, and is only one of the many fun games i don't teach the sixth graders)

2005-10-24T20:11:00.000-07:00

Collecting books, if you think about it, is an illogical hobby. Books, beside being expensive, are also unwieldy; bookshelves and bookcases take up huge amounts of household space, and books themselves, being heavy, are expensive to ship or transport in the event of a move. Further, there is no terminus in sight for the book collecter. No matter how narrow the focus of your collecting, you can never own ALL THE BOOKS for the genre in question. In addition, books don't tend to appreciate in value in anything near as dramatic a fashion as, say, baseball cards, or DNA samples from major celebrities. Mostly, they depreciate. Your 7.99 Penguin paperback edition of Moby Dick is worth 0.50 to the kid who buys it from your yard sale twenty years hence (generous estimate).

I'm thinking of taking up a more rational waste of money. Such as playing the lottery.

2005-10-23T10:35:00.000-07:00

Whenever I visit my grandparents, I end up going to Mass with them, and consequently sitting in the Old People section at church. The Old People are a jolly bunch, cataracts and all. As the only person in the vicinity whose limbs still function properly, I am often the recipient of helpful advice about being young and spry, which can be summed up as follows:

- drive fast
- ENJOY life, and
- don't get old.

And they would know...

2005-10-16T13:31:00.000-07:00

1. As long as y'all are waiting for the deus ex machina, you might as well get a hoodie advertising that fact.

2. My friend Charlie sent me a sunprint he made of a human hand touching an octopus. Q. How cool is that? A. Very cool. That octopus died in the name of ART.

3. I've told my boyf in the past that my car is mysteriously connected to the aether in such a way that washing it summons a rain storm. Which is why my car is perpetually covered in dust and bird droppings. I'm just looking out for my fellow sun lovers. Fool, he heeded not my words of warning, and washed my car last week while I was visiting my family (aside: awww). As a consequence, the rains have begun.

2005-10-10T09:39:00.000-07:00

My little brother T, who just turned 16, really really wants me to get him an airsoft gun for his birthday. However, inasmuch as he already injured himself this weekend by propelling himself into a wall while riding on a furniture dolly, I think I may hold off on the airsoft gun for...oh...a decade or so.

2005-10-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

ubi caritas et amor / Deus ibi est

2005-10-04T17:07:00.000-07:00

While trying to drive home the distinction between material and immaterial, I asked my seventh graders whether you can touch/taste/see/smell your own soul. Cue an entire classroom of squirrelly proto-adolescents trying to smell each other's souls.

Just shoot me now...

(it's fun, really it is.)

2005-10-03T20:36:00.000-07:00

i know where the summer goes

Sometimes, I feel as if my line of work (the edumacating of the Catholic private school students) is not where I should pause. After all, although I am kept on my toes intellectually, I am not really learning anything new. Rather, I'm taking what I know already (be it pre-algebra or sixth grade catechesis) and figuring out ways of presenting it effectively to the middle school set. I crave more in the way of discussion and debate than I get in my day to day life. I haven't yet resorted to making hand puppets for each of the Pre-Socratic philosophers and talking to myself, but it may come to that.

On the other hand, I'm certain that I am performing a good and useful function right now, albeit a humble one. Forming young people in the Faith is necessary. Teaching them how to read critically and write well is necessary. My students need the help I provide. Would I be needed, really, in another field? Also, the sense that I am responsible for providing a good moral example for forty-odd souls keeps me on the straight and narrow (*cough* more or less *cough*). Would I be as good, elsewhere?

Anyway. PHILOSOPHIC SOCK PUPPETS will make up for the lack of a philosophobabble fellowship. I'm designing a line of them. Hegel is particularly entertaining to animate, but his button eyes keep falling off.

2005-10-03T07:00:00.000-07:00

I was travelling this weekend, and attended Mass at a random parish in Manhattan Beach. The priest said something about "blessing of the animals," but I was still taken aback when I walked out of the church and saw eighty people on the steps with dogs on leashes and cats in carriers.

I noted with dismay that said people had only elected to have their larger mammals blessed; nary a goldfish or gerbil in sight. Surely there are divine consequences for having an un-hallowed hamster.

2005-09-28T16:29:00.000-07:00

I inadvertantly discovered the secret to quieting down the (multitudinous, mutinous) seventh grade class; I hinted that we might watch an educational movie later on, but only if they were good. Instantly, they stopped talking, and listened attentively for the rest of the class.

Well, shit. From now on I'm going to videotape myself lecturing on a given topic, and then just show the video instead of trying to give the lecture in real life. They'll be riveted I tell you. RIVETED.

2005-09-24T10:25:00.000-07:00

I finally found a CD with simple, beautiful renditions of "Pange Lingua Gloriosi," "Ubi Caritas," "Regina Caeli," and so forth. Now I can teach my Latin students some Gregorian chant without having them laugh at my tonedeaf attempts at "Parce Domine." Thirteen year olds are harsh.

The name of the cd, in case you have similar objectives, is O Lux Beatissima, put out by Cantores in Ecclesia. 35 tracks, 10 bucks on iTunes...

2005-09-22T19:50:00.000-07:00

Catholicism / popular culture

That's just what the priesthood needs. MORE TECHNO.

2005-09-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

WORK EXPANDS TO FILL THE TIME ALLOTED TO IT.

Seriously. There is never less work...just less efficiently accomplished work.

In other news, middle schoolers are something else together. This is a scene which I have seen reenacted more than once in our fair school's corridors:

Middle school girl, walking down the hall, with a folded piece of 8 1/2 by 11 notebook paper clutched to her bosom. Middle school boy runs up, exclaims "OOooooOOOOoo, what's that???" Middle school girl proclaims that it is a SECRET. Boy teases. Girl feigns(?) aggravation.

Ah, young love. You can just see the hormones percolating.

2005-09-16T23:16:00.000-07:00

I was going to do laundry this evening; instead, I ended up shooting the shit with some of my fellow teachers. I had forgotten how fun it is to have a proper, boozy, Catholic round of debating. When I'm drinking a beer, and carrying on a shouting match across the room, I feel in touch with my heritage. Catholics have been drinking beer and shouting at each other for millenia, man.

Also, it isn't a Catholic party till someone starts one of the following:

"Well, before Vatican II..."

"What I really think of the Tridentine/Novus Ordo Mass is..."

I'm sure there are other incendiaries, but I just can't think of them presently. Any other ideas?

2005-09-14T21:20:00.000-07:00

this is EVERY CLASS I TEACH

warning: contains homestarrunner

2005-09-14T19:53:00.000-07:00

Often, I run into families I teach while out running errands. I'm glad that I didn't today; because then, I would have had to explain why the sole contents of my grocery cart were a twelve pack of beer and a giant bag of Tootsie Pops.

2005-09-12T17:17:00.000-07:00

Yet another fun feature of being a religion teacher: the kids think that you are some sort of arbiter of Divine Justice. Every class, it seems, a student will start a long anecdote beginning with "Miss P, this one time I blah blah blah..." and ending with "so, is that a mortal sin?"

The next time some kid tries that, I'm going to stare at them silently, and then say, in a hushed, solemn tone of voice: "Yes. Yes it is."

2005-09-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

Last week, in my sixth grade religion class, I had the kids dramatize various Biblical covenants; between God and Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Israel. Oddly enough, in all four mixed gender groups, a girl got to play God. The boys mostly got to be sacrificial animals and donkeys. There's some moral in this, but I think I'll just assign roles next time so that the boys get to say more than "heehaw!"

2005-09-10T14:59:00.000-07:00

travel log III: Germany (pt I)

It was on the bus from Paris to Lourdes (France), and from there to Bohn (Germany) that the annoying nature of the group we were travelling with became revealed (they were a youth group from the East Coast, with most of the group leaders in some way affiliated with Regnum Christi). The tour bus had a microphone, you see; and the group leaders co-opted the mike in order to lead the entire group in song after song (of the Christian or quasi-Christian variety), or, worse still, enforce MANDATORY SHARING TIME, where members of the group would step up to the mike and share long, rambling monologues about "their Lourdes experience," or what have you. The lack of sleep and cramped bus conditions, combined with the malodorous fumes from the broken bus toilet, really strained my good humor on this occasion. If EVERYONE shares, it JUST ISN'T SPECIAL ANYMORE.

They tried to make me sing during mandatory karaoke time (this was, oh, about seven hours into the bus ride). I was about to step up and sing a little dittie by the Frogs called "Love Me Or Die, Bitch," but there were children aboard.

In Germany, we stayed in a small village outside of Bohn. The WYD participants in Germany were housed in hotels, hostels, gymnasiums, schools, and, in our case, in private homes; several families in the parish opened up their homes to tired, grubby Americans, Italians, and Africans from Seychelles. I had never even heard of Seychelles before this point, but apparently it's a series of islands near Madagascar with a primarily Catholic population. Who knew?

Anyway, I was lodged with a German couple in their seventies; they were very hospitable. I cannot say enough in praise of the beds we slept on---they were made of some sort of magical comfort producing foam. For breakfast, we were fed rolls, croissants, jam, cheese, ham, nutella, butter, and so forth, in prodigious quantities. I was pleased with the "everything should be eaten with butter" concept. There's a philosophy I can get behind. We couldn't really communicate with our hosts, since we spoke no German, and they spoke no English. Whenever we tried to speak German out of our handy internet-printed list of German/English phrases, they just looked at us funny. I suppose our pronunciation was off, and we were actually saying "Damn the goat," instead of "laundry room." Occasionally, certain cultural differences came to light. They were very concerned when we wore only flip flops to go outside. Apparently this is not a normal thing, outside of California. They began laughing at us, and kicking off their shoes, I imagine to indicate that we might as well go bare foot. Also, the German matriarch refused to let me leave the house with wet hair. I tried, but she physically propelled me into a small side room, handed me a hair dryer, and closed the door. So I dried my hair.