Friday, January 28, 2005
Bad Habits Die Hard
My first week of classes is officially over. Well, for this semester at least. I decided to do something that, I'm coming to realize, was a bit bold. I made a drastic switch. After spending last semester toiling through three upper level earth and atmospheric science classes and a computer science class, I decided to sway the other way. Last semester it was 4 sciences, one not; this semester it's 4 humanities, one not.
Little did I realize, despite how much I detested some things about the sciences, I got deeply accustomed to their culture, their way of doing things. Readings were usually few, problem sets were many and difficult. But the readings... they really didn't matter that much. I mean, if you got the concepts, you could get by. Sure I'd always do the readings, but I got used to doing them on my own schedule, and them not mattering too much.
Fast forward to now. Predictably I have a ton more reading to do with all these humanities classes. Duh, I saw that one coming. I guess what I didn't quite realize was how important they are. Or the fact that I actually need to do them, on time. On two occasions this first week, I was thrust into surprising and uncomfortable situations.
Take my 10-person anthropology class. We had three readings for this week, one of which I got around to doing before class. I was a bit caught off guard when the professor started asking us questions about them and went off into a 50 minute discussion about the readings. Luckily, he caught on to the fact that maybe we weren't quite aware of his teaching style and the way he wants us to do the readings. So it was a close call, but I got off the hook and survived.
You'd think maybe I learned my lesson right then and there? Nooooo.... See, I'm also taking this history class. Unlike anthropology, history is more of a lecture class with some 75 students. Earlier today we had our weekly discussion group, which was also quite big. I didn't get around to doing the readings, and I didn't think it was so bad. I'm used to professors just yacking at us for an hour and then letting us off the hook.
I think my heart skipped a beat when the Teaching Assistant said she's splitting us up into smaller discussion groups for the whole period save the last five minutes. I think my heart really stopped for a second when she slapped a transparency full of questions for us to discuss on the overhead projector. Oh. ma. gawd. I hate having to BS my way through so much.
So as the government-major-girl with straight-ironed hair foamed on the sides of her mouth while confidently spewing rhetoric and answers from her lips, I sat, and nodded, and racked my brain to come up with something semi-intelligent, somewhat on-topic to say. As a matter of fact, though, it wasn't just the girl next to me. My group was filled with seasoned history majors who knew the drill. They possessed some sort of insider knowledge that guided them to say things that sounded right and pleased the TA so much so that her eyes would roll in her sockets in enthusiasm and she would respond emphatically, pushing them to think more, further, deeper.
Well, I don't know what to say. I guess I have some getting used to to do. And as for those reading habits I developed in the sciences? I think they've suddenly contracted some fatal illness.
Little did I realize, despite how much I detested some things about the sciences, I got deeply accustomed to their culture, their way of doing things. Readings were usually few, problem sets were many and difficult. But the readings... they really didn't matter that much. I mean, if you got the concepts, you could get by. Sure I'd always do the readings, but I got used to doing them on my own schedule, and them not mattering too much.
Fast forward to now. Predictably I have a ton more reading to do with all these humanities classes. Duh, I saw that one coming. I guess what I didn't quite realize was how important they are. Or the fact that I actually need to do them, on time. On two occasions this first week, I was thrust into surprising and uncomfortable situations.
Take my 10-person anthropology class. We had three readings for this week, one of which I got around to doing before class. I was a bit caught off guard when the professor started asking us questions about them and went off into a 50 minute discussion about the readings. Luckily, he caught on to the fact that maybe we weren't quite aware of his teaching style and the way he wants us to do the readings. So it was a close call, but I got off the hook and survived.
You'd think maybe I learned my lesson right then and there? Nooooo.... See, I'm also taking this history class. Unlike anthropology, history is more of a lecture class with some 75 students. Earlier today we had our weekly discussion group, which was also quite big. I didn't get around to doing the readings, and I didn't think it was so bad. I'm used to professors just yacking at us for an hour and then letting us off the hook.
I think my heart skipped a beat when the Teaching Assistant said she's splitting us up into smaller discussion groups for the whole period save the last five minutes. I think my heart really stopped for a second when she slapped a transparency full of questions for us to discuss on the overhead projector. Oh. ma. gawd. I hate having to BS my way through so much.
So as the government-major-girl with straight-ironed hair foamed on the sides of her mouth while confidently spewing rhetoric and answers from her lips, I sat, and nodded, and racked my brain to come up with something semi-intelligent, somewhat on-topic to say. As a matter of fact, though, it wasn't just the girl next to me. My group was filled with seasoned history majors who knew the drill. They possessed some sort of insider knowledge that guided them to say things that sounded right and pleased the TA so much so that her eyes would roll in her sockets in enthusiasm and she would respond emphatically, pushing them to think more, further, deeper.
Well, I don't know what to say. I guess I have some getting used to to do. And as for those reading habits I developed in the sciences? I think they've suddenly contracted some fatal illness.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Still No Rest for the Weary
I have to admit that once I got back from Israel I had three nights of some of the deepest sleep in my life. You know, the kind of sleep where you just pass out and have no idea when. I guess that interlude of restfulness was a sign from above preparing me for what was to come.
I was supposed to fly back to school on Sunday, but my flights were delayed and then eventually cancelled because of that monstrous storm that dumped 3 feet of snow in some locations. Okay so I got to stay an extra day and home and I flew out today instead. The only problem was that today was the first day of classes. Ooops.
So I miss the first day of classes--what a wonderful way to start out the semester--and instead I spend the better part of the day bored off my ass waiting in stuffy planes and hectic airports. After delays and issues, I finally land at my final destination. I hear a voice calling my name by the baggage claim--a friend from college. Look, I wasn't the only one who missed the first day of classes! Dandy! We talk, blah blah, it was nice. She gets her luggage, and once the baggage carousel stops I get a bit worried.
Yep, my luggage never arrived. The only problem is that I'm not the type to travel light. Especially for a 5 week break. Having flown about 50 times last year, I got used to carrying my life, my home with me. If I'm going to be on the go so much, I might as well make "on the go" my home, right? Anyway, it kicked me in the ass. I'm in my dorm at a severe loss for underwear, socks, shirts, and other bare essential. Oh and my big winter jacket is in my suitcase, too. I'm not looking forward to walking to class tomorrow in 10 degree weather!!!I have to admit that once I got back from Israel I had three nights of some of the deepest sleep in my life. You know, the kind of sleep where you just pass out and have no idea when. I guess that interlude of restfulness was a sign from above preparing me for what was to come.
I was supposed to fly back to school on Sunday, but my flights were delayed and then eventually cancelled because of that monstrous storm that dumped 3 feet of snow in some locations. Okay so I got to stay an extra day and home and I flew out today instead. The only problem was that today was the first day of classes. Ooops.
So I miss the first day of classes--what a wonderful way to start out the semester--and instead I spend the better part of the day bored off my ass waiting in stuffy planes and hectic airports. After delays and issues, I finally land at my final destination. I hear a voice calling my name by the baggage claim--a friend from college. Look, I wasn't the only one who missed the first day of classes! Dandy! We talk, blah blah, it was nice. She gets her luggage, and once the baggage carousel stops I get a bit worried.
Yep, my luggage never arrived. The only problem is that I'm not the type to travel light. Especially for a 5 week break. Having flown about 50 times last year, I got used to carrying my life, my home with me. If I'm going to be on the go so much, I might as well make "on the go" my home, right? Anyway, it kicked me in the ass. I'm in my dorm at a severe loss for underwear, socks, shirts, and other bare essential. Oh and my big winter jacket is in my suitcase, too. I'm not looking forward to walking to class tomorrow in 10 degree weather!!!
I was supposed to fly back to school on Sunday, but my flights were delayed and then eventually cancelled because of that monstrous storm that dumped 3 feet of snow in some locations. Okay so I got to stay an extra day and home and I flew out today instead. The only problem was that today was the first day of classes. Ooops.
So I miss the first day of classes--what a wonderful way to start out the semester--and instead I spend the better part of the day bored off my ass waiting in stuffy planes and hectic airports. After delays and issues, I finally land at my final destination. I hear a voice calling my name by the baggage claim--a friend from college. Look, I wasn't the only one who missed the first day of classes! Dandy! We talk, blah blah, it was nice. She gets her luggage, and once the baggage carousel stops I get a bit worried.
Yep, my luggage never arrived. The only problem is that I'm not the type to travel light. Especially for a 5 week break. Having flown about 50 times last year, I got used to carrying my life, my home with me. If I'm going to be on the go so much, I might as well make "on the go" my home, right? Anyway, it kicked me in the ass. I'm in my dorm at a severe loss for underwear, socks, shirts, and other bare essential. Oh and my big winter jacket is in my suitcase, too. I'm not looking forward to walking to class tomorrow in 10 degree weather!!!I have to admit that once I got back from Israel I had three nights of some of the deepest sleep in my life. You know, the kind of sleep where you just pass out and have no idea when. I guess that interlude of restfulness was a sign from above preparing me for what was to come.
I was supposed to fly back to school on Sunday, but my flights were delayed and then eventually cancelled because of that monstrous storm that dumped 3 feet of snow in some locations. Okay so I got to stay an extra day and home and I flew out today instead. The only problem was that today was the first day of classes. Ooops.
So I miss the first day of classes--what a wonderful way to start out the semester--and instead I spend the better part of the day bored off my ass waiting in stuffy planes and hectic airports. After delays and issues, I finally land at my final destination. I hear a voice calling my name by the baggage claim--a friend from college. Look, I wasn't the only one who missed the first day of classes! Dandy! We talk, blah blah, it was nice. She gets her luggage, and once the baggage carousel stops I get a bit worried.
Yep, my luggage never arrived. The only problem is that I'm not the type to travel light. Especially for a 5 week break. Having flown about 50 times last year, I got used to carrying my life, my home with me. If I'm going to be on the go so much, I might as well make "on the go" my home, right? Anyway, it kicked me in the ass. I'm in my dorm at a severe loss for underwear, socks, shirts, and other bare essential. Oh and my big winter jacket is in my suitcase, too. I'm not looking forward to walking to class tomorrow in 10 degree weather!!!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
No Rest for the Weary
It took 24 hours from the time I left to the airport till the time I set foot back home. My trip was a mess. As if spending almost every waking moment with family for 11 days straight isn't intense enough, this trip had some real sting to it. My Great Grandma died at the age of 96, only four days after we spent an afternoon together. I thought the whole idea of this trip was to say hello to family, not goodbye-forever. So I attended the first funeral in my life, and of a dear family member at that, and tried not to bawl my eyes out, so I bawled just a little more than a little.
What else about this trip? I find out that I have a relatively young relative living with AIDS. I get caught in the middle of old family brawls that began to unfold years before the idea of my conception was ever conceived. I get little sleep in between all the family gatherings. I continually get stuffed with food and at the worst times--when I have no appetite. I begin to realize how living oceans apart can create a distance between people that is harder to overcome than the geographic distance that separates...
Of course, all that's not to say that I didn't have any fun. At times I had tons of fun. The first 10 days spent on the organized tour of the country with 40 other Americans was much more fun than I expected. And yes, I really did enjoy seeing my family again and talking to (some of) them. But dang, all those hours spent in rooms with sick people caught up with me. So just as I prepare to leave, tired and frustrated, I get another kick in the ass--well sick that is.
Now, if you'll excuse me. I got a chest that's heavy and hurting, a tummy that's nauseous, a nose that's runny, a throat that's coughy, a brain that's suffering from those pinchy-sinus headaches, and a bunch of other things to tend to. *cough* *cough*
What else about this trip? I find out that I have a relatively young relative living with AIDS. I get caught in the middle of old family brawls that began to unfold years before the idea of my conception was ever conceived. I get little sleep in between all the family gatherings. I continually get stuffed with food and at the worst times--when I have no appetite. I begin to realize how living oceans apart can create a distance between people that is harder to overcome than the geographic distance that separates...
Of course, all that's not to say that I didn't have any fun. At times I had tons of fun. The first 10 days spent on the organized tour of the country with 40 other Americans was much more fun than I expected. And yes, I really did enjoy seeing my family again and talking to (some of) them. But dang, all those hours spent in rooms with sick people caught up with me. So just as I prepare to leave, tired and frustrated, I get another kick in the ass--well sick that is.
Now, if you'll excuse me. I got a chest that's heavy and hurting, a tummy that's nauseous, a nose that's runny, a throat that's coughy, a brain that's suffering from those pinchy-sinus headaches, and a bunch of other things to tend to. *cough* *cough*
