Lots of times, when you're at a funeral, you hear things like "So and so wouldn't have wanted us to be sad and cry. So and so would have wanted us to celebrate her life and be happy". Well I am saying now, for the record, that at my funeral, I do not want you to celebrate my life. That's what birthdays are for. At my funeral I want you to mourn my death. Because that's what funerals are for. And you should be said if I'm dead. I'm a delight.
That being said, I am in no way opposed to the insertion of dark humor into the proceedings. Dark humor is the best and most healthy way to grieve.
For instance, I would really like it if, in secret, one of you hired 20 or 30 Yakuza members (or at least tatted up Japanese dudes who look like they could be Yakuza) to attend my funeral. They should all be wearing sunglasses, and they should speak to no one. Then they should simply leave when the service is over. You can substitute Crips, the Mafia, or any other criminal organization. Let your imagingation run wild!
Another thing I would like, is if someone places my body in a booth at the Pei Wei. As you know, the Pei Wei is the most disgusting restaurant in the world, ever. I like to think that my dead body would discourage people from patronizing their establishment. Especially if you smear some of their "food" over my face and body, making it look like the food is what killed me.
Also, Phil needs to get up at the funeral and sing "Wind Beneath My Wings". Really badly. And it will be the most awkward thing in the world for all assembled because 1)his singing will be horrible, and 2)Phil is NOT the type to sing in front of a large crowd, alone. Plus, as the griving widower, he gets to do whatever he wants. So NO ONE will allow themselves to laugh.
Even though it will be hilarious.
***Side note*** You may wonder why I assume Phil will outlive me. Here's why. I operate on a very high level of stress. And I spent the first 22 years of my life eating garbage and not exercising. Phil is the epitome of enlightenment and glowing emotional health. For instance, you know how sometimes when you park your car, people come put fliers and business cards under your windshield? Those make me angry. I pull them off and throw them on the ground, because it's not my mess, and I'm not cleaning it. Then I immediately add the company being advertised to my Book Of Hate, and resolve to never patronize their establishment. Phillip, on the other hand, calmly takes the flier and places it in the nearest trash receptacle. He doesn't get angry. Not only does he neglect to put the company in his Book Of Hate, HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BOOK OF HATE. That's how I know he'll outlive me. That kind of enlightenment and calm will ensure that he lives forever, like Methusala or one of those Buddhist monks in the Tibetan mountains. *****
Really the sky is the limit, as far as pranks go. I honestly don't care what happens to my body after I'm done using it. Donate it to a necrophiliac. Or to drug runners in Mexico so they can smuggle drugs in my cavities. Or someone who has always been curious about cannibalism, but doesn't have the courage or sociopathic tendencies required to obtain human meat. I truly don't care. At all.
I remember a few years back, there was a cremator guy who got arrested for fraud or something like that. His cremation machine broke, and rather than fix it, the guy just buried the bodies in his back yard. And people's families LOST THEIR MINDS. They were all like "How could he do this? Waaaah! I'm so angry and upset and horrified!". I don't understand that at all. Yes, I guess you didn't get what you paid for. But your loved one is no less dead cremated than buried. The body was disposed of, which is really the point, right? I guess it would be weird to know that the urn you have is filled with regular ashes and not Grandma ashes, but as long as you got to have a funeral and grieve and let the healing process begin, what do you care if she was buried instead of cremated? The cremator guy got life in prison for this.
My only request is that before dealing with my body, you MAKE SURE I'm dead before you dispose of me. I have a morbid fear of being buried alive, you see. So play a bunch of pranks with me for a few days. Use me for target practice. Throw me in a swimming pool for 3 days with weights on my feet. Do whatever you have to do, but you must be certain I'm dead before you do the final disposal.
For this reason, I prefer to be cremated, which will most certainly assure my death. But if I am buried, for whatever reason, and you didn't keep my body out for a few days to make sure it's dead, make sure that you put an Edgar Allen Poe style bell in my grave, with my hands resting on the lever, so in case I wake up I can notify you.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Liar Liar
In my yoga teacher training they introduced the concept of "satya". Satya is basically honesty; but it extends beyond simply not telling lies. It also includes lying with your actions, or not living your truth. It came to me recently that I lie with my actions all the time because of my job. I believe that all these lies have infested me, making me stressed and sick and angry. And it needs to change. Here are just some of the ways I lie with my actions.
First of all, working in finance is, in and of itself, a lie. Devoting so much of my time to something that bores me to tears - something I don't care at all about - is draining in the extreme. And it is untrue. It says to the world "I am a finance person. I like numbers and typing and cubicles. I find this sort of thing interesting, obviously, or I wouldn't spend so much time doing it". That is a lie.
Also, being obedient is a lie. I am not by nature an obedient person. I like to reason things out myself and make my own decisions. In an office environment, that is not possible unless you are the CEO, which is not a likely career step for me - see the previous paragraph. Every time I obey an order with which I do not agree or which I don't comprehend the reasons behind, that is a big fat lie. My actions say "I agree with this. I am a yes-woman. I do as I'm told like a good bitch".
I frequently have to attend meetings and trainings of various kinds, due to the changing nature of my work. Sitting passively in these meetings is a lie, because it implies that I care about this crap. Asking questions and making related comments is also a lie, for the same reason. The only honest thing to do would be to skip the meeting or to attend the meeting and pull the discussion off track onto things that actually matter or are in some way interesting. Neither is acceptable in an office environment.
Also, I am frequently asked for advice by ignorant shareholders. I am not supposed to give advice, per company policy, since I am not a licensed stock-broker. But this is a lie against my nature. It is my nature to help others if I can. And while I certainly wouldn't tell them "I am the God of Finance, and my word is law" if left to my own devices, sure, I would talk with them and tell them what I would do in their situations. Refusing to do so is a lie. Lies, all lies!
Also, the very nature of office work is a lie. Succeeding in an office environment has very little to do with merit, and is mostly about pleasing the right people. If you can please the right people, you will do well. If you do something to piss those people off, then you will not do well. Supposedly the business world should function as a meritocracy, but that is far from the case. And I'm not referring to myself; I fully acknowledge that I am not a businesswoman, and that I have no place in office management, etc. But I can think of several people who are intelligent, competent and wonderful who have not been promoted to higher ranks within their respective businesses, simply because they failed to attract the attention of those on power. Sometimes this is because they were overshadowed by attention-seeking sycophants; sometimes it is simply because they are introverted and quiet. Either way, it is troubling to see people who have little in the way of intelligence, integrity, people skills or competence rewarded over the more deserving, but less abrasive employees. I'm not saying that no one who is successful in business deserves it. Of course, many people in power have earned their positions fair and square and are truly deserving. But it's worrisome how often that is not the case.
I am also the kind of person who, by nature, refuses to be bullied and will always stand up for herself. That is not possible in a workplace. If you stand up for yourself, you will be described as "argumentative" or as a person who "can't take criticism" or is "not a team player". When I listen quietly to erroneous and unfair "feedback" without standing up for myself I am a dirty, low down liar.
When I wear shoes because it pleases others, I am lying.
When I go to work when I'm sick, just to avoid using forbidden sick time, I am lying. I am saying "I am totally fine to work, even though my stomach is on fire/my joints are inflamed/I can't stop coughing/I can't talk". Lies.
When I stop myself from making funny jokes, I am lying. It's a lie of omission and a lie against my nature.
Ever since college I have tried to force myself into a normal office job, because that's what normal people do, and I wanted a normal life with contort and stability. What I have come to realize is that you canm have comfort and stability without working in an office, killing yourself slowly, forcing yourself into a situation that feels unnatural and unwholesome to you. I'm not judging people who work in offices. They are necessary to the world, and they are certainly a lot tougher than I am for being able to tolerate it. I admire them for it. But I can't keep joining them.
Soon I will have my yoga certification and it will all be over. Wish me luck!
First of all, working in finance is, in and of itself, a lie. Devoting so much of my time to something that bores me to tears - something I don't care at all about - is draining in the extreme. And it is untrue. It says to the world "I am a finance person. I like numbers and typing and cubicles. I find this sort of thing interesting, obviously, or I wouldn't spend so much time doing it". That is a lie.
Also, being obedient is a lie. I am not by nature an obedient person. I like to reason things out myself and make my own decisions. In an office environment, that is not possible unless you are the CEO, which is not a likely career step for me - see the previous paragraph. Every time I obey an order with which I do not agree or which I don't comprehend the reasons behind, that is a big fat lie. My actions say "I agree with this. I am a yes-woman. I do as I'm told like a good bitch".
I frequently have to attend meetings and trainings of various kinds, due to the changing nature of my work. Sitting passively in these meetings is a lie, because it implies that I care about this crap. Asking questions and making related comments is also a lie, for the same reason. The only honest thing to do would be to skip the meeting or to attend the meeting and pull the discussion off track onto things that actually matter or are in some way interesting. Neither is acceptable in an office environment.
Also, I am frequently asked for advice by ignorant shareholders. I am not supposed to give advice, per company policy, since I am not a licensed stock-broker. But this is a lie against my nature. It is my nature to help others if I can. And while I certainly wouldn't tell them "I am the God of Finance, and my word is law" if left to my own devices, sure, I would talk with them and tell them what I would do in their situations. Refusing to do so is a lie. Lies, all lies!
Also, the very nature of office work is a lie. Succeeding in an office environment has very little to do with merit, and is mostly about pleasing the right people. If you can please the right people, you will do well. If you do something to piss those people off, then you will not do well. Supposedly the business world should function as a meritocracy, but that is far from the case. And I'm not referring to myself; I fully acknowledge that I am not a businesswoman, and that I have no place in office management, etc. But I can think of several people who are intelligent, competent and wonderful who have not been promoted to higher ranks within their respective businesses, simply because they failed to attract the attention of those on power. Sometimes this is because they were overshadowed by attention-seeking sycophants; sometimes it is simply because they are introverted and quiet. Either way, it is troubling to see people who have little in the way of intelligence, integrity, people skills or competence rewarded over the more deserving, but less abrasive employees. I'm not saying that no one who is successful in business deserves it. Of course, many people in power have earned their positions fair and square and are truly deserving. But it's worrisome how often that is not the case.
I am also the kind of person who, by nature, refuses to be bullied and will always stand up for herself. That is not possible in a workplace. If you stand up for yourself, you will be described as "argumentative" or as a person who "can't take criticism" or is "not a team player". When I listen quietly to erroneous and unfair "feedback" without standing up for myself I am a dirty, low down liar.
When I wear shoes because it pleases others, I am lying.
When I go to work when I'm sick, just to avoid using forbidden sick time, I am lying. I am saying "I am totally fine to work, even though my stomach is on fire/my joints are inflamed/I can't stop coughing/I can't talk". Lies.
When I stop myself from making funny jokes, I am lying. It's a lie of omission and a lie against my nature.
Ever since college I have tried to force myself into a normal office job, because that's what normal people do, and I wanted a normal life with contort and stability. What I have come to realize is that you canm have comfort and stability without working in an office, killing yourself slowly, forcing yourself into a situation that feels unnatural and unwholesome to you. I'm not judging people who work in offices. They are necessary to the world, and they are certainly a lot tougher than I am for being able to tolerate it. I admire them for it. But I can't keep joining them.
Soon I will have my yoga certification and it will all be over. Wish me luck!
Monday, September 26, 2011
Two Dumb Reasons to Get Divorced
Not so much in my generation, but in my parents' generation, you often - OFTEN - heard people cite a lack of love as a reason for divorce. They would and do say things like "He doesn't love me anymore" or "We grew apart" or "The excitement was gone" blah blah. Of course, you never know what a marriage is like from the inside, so maybe there is much more going on than these statements imply, but if these are the only reasons you're getting a divorce, I have one piece of advice.
Suck it up.
You're not always going to feel excitement and passion in a marriage. And you may even grow apart and start to live separate lives. So what? If you grow apart, now you're suddenly thrust into a living arrangement with a mysterious stranger. Seduce that stranger! Now is your chance to start fresh in a new relationship!
But maybe you're still close, and still living the same lives, but you just don't feel in love anymore. So? You will again eventually, if you don't try to force it. Just take a break from each other or whatever, and before long you'll be back in love again. Like that comedian says - "Bitch, we roommates. We'll fall back in love together".
Another dumb reason people get divorced is "It's better for the children to grow up in a single parent household than in a house where the parents are fighting all the time". Ok, that may be true or it may not be. Let's say it is though. So? This reasoning implies that fighting is some crazy thing that happens to you, beyond your control. It's not. You control whether you fight or not. It's a decision you make. Of course, it's natural for couples to bicker and argue from time to time, but those kinds of normal fights don't traumatize children, so that's not a legitimate excuse for divorce. It's the major fights that do it, where the parents are physically abusive, or smashing furniture or threatening suicide. It is entirely within your power to avoid those kinds of fights. And if you have so little self control that you can't contain yourselves, you probably shouldn't have kids anyway - just give them up for adoption.
I suppose it's easy for me to say, since Phil and I don't fight much, and when we do it's resolved pretty quickly. I guess if I was in a relationship with someone who was deliberately provoking me all the time, I might feel differently. But I like to think I would have the good sense not to marry someone like that in the first place.
I guess I feel like these two reasons cited for divorce can be solved easily using one basic skill; manners. If you don't feel super in love with your spouse today, that doesn't mean you should act like an asshole or go out and cheat on him or whatever. Nor do you have to fake being wildly in love, falling over yourself with passion. Just simply be polite. Same if you have a problem with fighting all the time. You can choose to not be baited into a fight. Just use your manners, be civil to each other and the bad times will pass. Some people may say it's dishonest, just going through the motions like that. I say, it's about treating your spouse with respect, no matter how you feel about him that day or that year. Just suck it up and do what you have to do until the good times come around again.
Suck it up.
You're not always going to feel excitement and passion in a marriage. And you may even grow apart and start to live separate lives. So what? If you grow apart, now you're suddenly thrust into a living arrangement with a mysterious stranger. Seduce that stranger! Now is your chance to start fresh in a new relationship!
But maybe you're still close, and still living the same lives, but you just don't feel in love anymore. So? You will again eventually, if you don't try to force it. Just take a break from each other or whatever, and before long you'll be back in love again. Like that comedian says - "Bitch, we roommates. We'll fall back in love together".
Another dumb reason people get divorced is "It's better for the children to grow up in a single parent household than in a house where the parents are fighting all the time". Ok, that may be true or it may not be. Let's say it is though. So? This reasoning implies that fighting is some crazy thing that happens to you, beyond your control. It's not. You control whether you fight or not. It's a decision you make. Of course, it's natural for couples to bicker and argue from time to time, but those kinds of normal fights don't traumatize children, so that's not a legitimate excuse for divorce. It's the major fights that do it, where the parents are physically abusive, or smashing furniture or threatening suicide. It is entirely within your power to avoid those kinds of fights. And if you have so little self control that you can't contain yourselves, you probably shouldn't have kids anyway - just give them up for adoption.
I suppose it's easy for me to say, since Phil and I don't fight much, and when we do it's resolved pretty quickly. I guess if I was in a relationship with someone who was deliberately provoking me all the time, I might feel differently. But I like to think I would have the good sense not to marry someone like that in the first place.
I guess I feel like these two reasons cited for divorce can be solved easily using one basic skill; manners. If you don't feel super in love with your spouse today, that doesn't mean you should act like an asshole or go out and cheat on him or whatever. Nor do you have to fake being wildly in love, falling over yourself with passion. Just simply be polite. Same if you have a problem with fighting all the time. You can choose to not be baited into a fight. Just use your manners, be civil to each other and the bad times will pass. Some people may say it's dishonest, just going through the motions like that. I say, it's about treating your spouse with respect, no matter how you feel about him that day or that year. Just suck it up and do what you have to do until the good times come around again.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Comrade Molly Is Watching You
My dog is a communist. I just realized this today.
First of all, she firmly and passionately advocates the redistribution of wealth (food). When she perceives that others in her group (Phillip and I, or guests we have in our house) are hoarding food, she takes immediate action to remedy the situation (steals food off plates and counters). Molly knows that without an equitable redistribution of food among all members of the group, a hierarchy is formed, wherein some members control the wealth (food) and others must behave in a subservient fashion in order to obtain a living wage's portion of the wealth (for instance, sitting politely on the kitchen floor until those who control the food sources permit the proletariat to eat).
Molly also makes no proprietary distinctions. After all, "property" is simply a notion conjured up by the capitalists to keep the proletariat in its lowly place. For instance, many of you may remember when I came home from work to discover two strange men in the backyard, chopping down trees. Molly, making no distinction between "our house" and "your house" or "our trees" and "other trees" welcomed the strange men with happy tail wagging and frolicking. You see, a person cannot "own" a house; nor can she "own" trees. All property ownership is theft. Therefore, those strange men were completely entitled to come onto the patch of land surrounding the domicile where we happen to abide, and of course they were entitled to cut down trees. Trees are for everyone's use; not to be hoarded by us like Capitalist Pigs.
Molly is also vehemently against commercialism and technology. She merrily destroys ipad chargers, cell phone chargers and bottles of medicine. All communists know that technological advances steal jobs from the workers, further removing them from the means of production, as they become slaves to their gadgets and tools.
When I sit down to watch TV after a long day at work, Molly makes her displeasure known. Molly disapproves of me absorbing so much mind control from the corporations via commercials and product placements. Molly knows that my time would be much better spent outside doing work and activities which strengthen the community. Molly will jump on my lap, blocking my view of the screen. If I don't turn the TV off, she jumps down off the couch and goes to her leash. Then she comes back to my lap. Then she goes to the leash. she repeats this many, many times, as if she worries that I have forgotten the path to take from the couch to the leash. She will do this as many times as necessary until she can break me away from the destructive forces of Capitalist Mind Numbing Propaganda.
Molly believes that all of our time should be spent out of doors, exploring the community, chasing small animals for food, chasing toys and getting lots of exercise. She also takes objects from the yards of others (again, a total disregard for "property"), bringing them home and sharing them with us, her lucky dwelling-partners. Whether we want her to share them or not. No matter. Molly would never presume to take ownership of one of her treasures. They belong to us all equally.
Molly also does not believe in privacy. Why should someone need privacy in the bedroom, the bathroom, or any other room? After all, if you have nothing to hide, then why would you object to Molly's monitoring? That's why Molly follows us from room to room- to spy on us and report back to headquarters any unacceptable language or activities. She becomes very upset when thwarted in her monitoring, as often happens when Phillip or I shuts the door, pushing Molly outside.
I'm now going to take Molly on our daily walk, monitoring the neighborhood for suspicious activities, cats, and new unexpected food sources. Sigh.
First of all, she firmly and passionately advocates the redistribution of wealth (food). When she perceives that others in her group (Phillip and I, or guests we have in our house) are hoarding food, she takes immediate action to remedy the situation (steals food off plates and counters). Molly knows that without an equitable redistribution of food among all members of the group, a hierarchy is formed, wherein some members control the wealth (food) and others must behave in a subservient fashion in order to obtain a living wage's portion of the wealth (for instance, sitting politely on the kitchen floor until those who control the food sources permit the proletariat to eat).
Molly also makes no proprietary distinctions. After all, "property" is simply a notion conjured up by the capitalists to keep the proletariat in its lowly place. For instance, many of you may remember when I came home from work to discover two strange men in the backyard, chopping down trees. Molly, making no distinction between "our house" and "your house" or "our trees" and "other trees" welcomed the strange men with happy tail wagging and frolicking. You see, a person cannot "own" a house; nor can she "own" trees. All property ownership is theft. Therefore, those strange men were completely entitled to come onto the patch of land surrounding the domicile where we happen to abide, and of course they were entitled to cut down trees. Trees are for everyone's use; not to be hoarded by us like Capitalist Pigs.
Molly is also vehemently against commercialism and technology. She merrily destroys ipad chargers, cell phone chargers and bottles of medicine. All communists know that technological advances steal jobs from the workers, further removing them from the means of production, as they become slaves to their gadgets and tools.
When I sit down to watch TV after a long day at work, Molly makes her displeasure known. Molly disapproves of me absorbing so much mind control from the corporations via commercials and product placements. Molly knows that my time would be much better spent outside doing work and activities which strengthen the community. Molly will jump on my lap, blocking my view of the screen. If I don't turn the TV off, she jumps down off the couch and goes to her leash. Then she comes back to my lap. Then she goes to the leash. she repeats this many, many times, as if she worries that I have forgotten the path to take from the couch to the leash. She will do this as many times as necessary until she can break me away from the destructive forces of Capitalist Mind Numbing Propaganda.
Molly believes that all of our time should be spent out of doors, exploring the community, chasing small animals for food, chasing toys and getting lots of exercise. She also takes objects from the yards of others (again, a total disregard for "property"), bringing them home and sharing them with us, her lucky dwelling-partners. Whether we want her to share them or not. No matter. Molly would never presume to take ownership of one of her treasures. They belong to us all equally.
Molly also does not believe in privacy. Why should someone need privacy in the bedroom, the bathroom, or any other room? After all, if you have nothing to hide, then why would you object to Molly's monitoring? That's why Molly follows us from room to room- to spy on us and report back to headquarters any unacceptable language or activities. She becomes very upset when thwarted in her monitoring, as often happens when Phillip or I shuts the door, pushing Molly outside.
I'm now going to take Molly on our daily walk, monitoring the neighborhood for suspicious activities, cats, and new unexpected food sources. Sigh.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Dana Versus Nature
It's important to know who you are and to accept the things about yourself that you cannot change. This is a lesson that was reinforced for me during my recent trip to Norway. I'm just never, ever going to be an outdoorsy person; nor am I ever going to be a tough Viking like my Norwegian family members. And I am OK with that.
It started at the cabin. Near my family's farm, there is a cabin called Vikebo. It is beautiful, crafted of lovely rich woods with spectacular views of the fjord. However, it has not electricity, running water or toilet.
It has an outhouse.
If you are unfamiliar with me and my psychological problems, you probably aren't seeing the problem. But if you know me, you are cringing already. My feelings about outhouses are so very strong, it is impossible to truly convey them to you. Language is not a good enough tool; I would need to physically transport you to Hell to make you understand this level of negative emotion I'm talking about here. Outhouses to me represent all that is vile and evil in the world. Every bad idea, every disease, all pain and suffering can be summed up by the existence of the outhouse.
I don't use outhouses.
Well for the first two days in the cabin, I simply reduced my food and liquid consumption. In my mind, if I could just not eat or drink, I could eliminate the need to use the outhouse. I would only eat at other peoples' houses. That was my plan.
Well you can imagine how that worked. Day three I broke down and drank liquids.
I woke up at 2am, like I did every morning. But this time was different. I had to pee.
"Shit" I thought to myself. "OK, let's think this through. We're going to the farm house around 11. I can wait until then. I can. It's just a mind over matter type thing. What I'll do, is I'll go back to sleep and I won't wake up until 10:45 and then it will be fine. Fine."
I laid there in my bed. Thinking. Waiting. But it's not dark and I can't go back to sleep. So now this is a problem. After struggling mightily for two hours I knew what I had to do.
I had to use the outhouse.
I was shaking with fear. I prepared myself by getting my little bottle of hand sanitizer out, making sure it was easy to reach - when combating germs, seconds count. I held my breath of course - everyone knows that if you breathe in an outhouse you will be killed by every class of disease. I couldn't sit on the sit. I just couldn't. So I did what girls often do in this situation, I attempted to hover. However. I was not taking into account the fact that the outhouse was meant for Norwegian Viking Giants, not wee French girls. So my hover turned into more of a "forward bend" and you know what happened.
I peed all over myself.
"FUCK" I screamed. This was not a problem I should have had to deal with. I'm not a baby or an incontinent senior citizen.
Of course, with no running water, I couldn't wash myself or my clothes. My eyes filled with tears of rage. Contaiminated. I was contaminated with pee and outhouse diseases and filth.
Well there was nothing else to do. I walked down to the fjord, stripped my clothes off and decided to hop in to clean myself in the glacier water.
If you have never experienced glacier water at 4am in Norway, take my word for it. It's the coldest thing you will ever feel.
I touched my toe in quickly. My skin burned and the muscles contracted in fury beneath the skin as if to say "No the fuck you don't Dana".
OK. Clothes first. I took my clothes and dunked them in the water, beating them on rocks and getting them moderately clean. When that was done, I couldn't postpone any longer. I needed to clean myself. I sat on a rock and dangled my feet in, trying to get them used to it. They didn't get used to it. But I had no choice.
No choice.
I plunged in up to my waist and shrieked like a banshee, immediately zooming back out of the water to the safety of dry land.
I went back up to my room and got dressed, hating myself for my weakness.
Later that day, when we went to the farmhouse, I took the hottest shower ever, scouring every inch of my skin until it was lobster red and irritated. Then I refused to leave. It was maybe not the most polite thing I've ever done, but I just couldn't go back to the cabin. I couldn't. I situated myself in a spare bedroom and declared myself home for the duration of the trip.
Cosseted and spoiled with running water and electricity, I happily settled down into my comfortable new place.
But. One day my cousin suggested that we go for a hike.
I explained that I am not a hiker. I don't like hiking - it's really not my thing. My cousin assured me that it was a very easy hike - even her children could do it - and I didn't even need to bring water or anything.
But "easy" is a relative term. To me, an "easy" hike is essentially just a walk that takes place in the woods. To my family, "easy" is a two hour uphill muddy trek on a freaking mountain. All uphill. All. After an hour or so I was like "we're almost there, right?" I was sweating profusely, and was probably dehydrated from my ill-conceived "liquid reduction" plan, and I was not having fun. Prepared for an "easy" hike, I wore my designer jeans and a nice button down blouse from Anthropologie. They were covered in mud and sweat. I felt ugly and tired and miserable. And then I was told we were only about half way there.
Now, maybe if I cared about waterfalls it would have been totally worth it. But you have to understand, I don't really care that much about waterfalls. I mean, yes they're nice and all. I don't think they're UGLY or anything. I just don't think they're something to get all excited about. So, lacking proper motivation, I quit, like the weak spoiled Orange County Princess I have become. I trekked back down the mountain, purchased a bottle of lemon-sparkling water and fooled with my digital camera while I waited for my hardier family members to look at the waterfall and come back down again.
My family members are the nicest people alive. I love them dearly, especially for putting up with Princess Dana, which can be difficult. Ask Phil. But I'm totally intimidated by them. They're so big and strapping and hardy and tough. Compared to them I feel sickly and consumptive and difficult.
Tomorrow I start yoga teacher training. I'm pretty excited about it, except for the fact that our "getting to know you" activity is a one hour hike. They have described it as a "gentle, mellow" hike. In the same email they said to wear comfortable shoes. That's how I know "gentle" and "mellow" are lies.
I've learned that if an activity requires comfortable walking shoes, I'm not going to enjoy it. Unless it's Disneyland. But nothing else. Everything I like to do can be done in heels or barefoot.
The biggest problem is, this is a meet-and-greet type activity. This will be my classmates' first impression of me. That is not a good thing. They will forever have the impression that Dana is "that girl who bitches and moans and sweats and swears and has nothing nice to say about anything". And I'm not like that all the time! I don't want them to think that! But I'm also a truly bad liar. I won't be able to say I'm having a good time, or that it's such a nice day for a hike (It's really hot here! What are they thinking?)or that I'm happy to be there. The best I think I can pull off is brooding silence. But then I'll be "the mopey girl who won't talk to anyone". I don't want to be that girl either. And why do hippies think everyone likes hiking? Why? I signed up for yoga, not hiking! Part of what I love about yoga is that it's typically done indoors. Can I pretend to be sick? Not sure how that will go over....
There are some things about nature I like, however. I enjoy any kind of boat activity. And I also enjoy picnics as long as they don't take too long. But mostly nature terrifies me and makes me unhappy.
Here are some other examples of me versus nature:
Once while camping I attempted to make cheese tortellini with homemade gorgonzola sauce, sautéed mushrooms and wine for dinner. On a campfire. Because I hate camping food which is basically just hot dogs, chips, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and warm soda. So I thought I would classy up the place. It didn't go well. I had to borrow extra pans from some people downriver. I burned the bottoms of the pans which angered them. But seriously!? Who brings pans camping and says you can use them on a campfire and gets mad when the fire scorches them? That's what happens.
Another time while camping, we heard a truck come close to where we were camping. Then there were gunshots. Then there was low murmuring. We raced to my car, where we quietly, QUIETLY got in, covered ourselves with blankets and pretended not to be there. We didn't hear shit. We didn't see anything. Just please please leave us alive.
On hunting trips, I sometimes saw elk herds. Elk herds are terrifying.
See the skiing blog - lots of examples there.
Once during one of my husband's family reunions I got bitten by a mosquito. It was unpleasant.
Once for work I volunteered to to to Yosemite National Park to remove encroaching lodgepole pines. They warned us about "altitude sickness", describing it as getting sick from being on a mountain. "Haha" I said to myself. "That's ridiculous. How could fresh mountain air make you feel sick?". Well, as soon as we got up to 10,000 feet, I was pretty sure I was going to die. My head felt like nails were ramming into it, and my stomach rumbled with displeasure and I couldn't breathe. I didn't feel well. Well, the ranger came and gave us the "bear talk". I had never really been afraid of bears before, but the ranger struck the fear into me. So when literally every single person on the trip decided they wanted to - of course - hike, I felt pressured to go with them in order to avoid being eaten by the bears I would inevitably encounter if left alone. Well, if you have altitude sickness - which I did - a hike is basically the last thing you should do, right behind jogging and doing wind sprints. It made it so much worse that by the time we got back to camp all I could do was lie down, gasping for breath, as my feet went numb and my stomach punished me for depriving it of oxygen. I spent two days lying in a tent, unable to do much else. On day three I was well enough to stand and walk, so I decided to help out with the manual labor. I would lift my shears and do a little work and then go dry heave in the bushes for a few minutes. Then I would work for a few minutes and then I would have to lay down for a few minutes. Repeat.
Once Phil took me hiking in the mountains because he likes stuff like that. After roaming around on Mount Baker for what seemed like ages, I was ready to go. I had tried to be a good sport, but enough is enough. I wanted to eat some Italian food and take a nice hot bath adn put this nightmare behind me forever. Phil said to me "But don't you want to see what's over there?" "I Bet It's More Fucking Trees Phillip" I snapped. Phil was angry with me - and for good reason- I was being horrible. But nature brings that out in me. It's not pretty.
Once I was attacked by a goat.
Another time a goat got on top of my car and wouldn't get off of it. Do you know how to get a goat off your car? I didn't either.
Because I get cold outside, I tend to hover near the fire, no matter what. This usually results in lips so severely chapped that they crack and bleed, and clothes that stink like smoke. The blood from my lips drips onto my stinky clothes. I get progressively uglier as time goes on. By the time the trip is over I look homeless - and not like one of those trendy Portland/Seattle hipster homeless chicks - like the "needs-to-get-back-on-her-meds, someone should really do something" homeless.
My point is, I'm not an outdoors girl, and pretending that I am in an effort to please others only ends in misery.
So perhaps tomorrow I'll show up at yoga teacher training with a massive headache that will prevent me from hiking. Or perhaps I will be late due to traffic or work or whatever. Or perhaps I'll be honest and say "You know, I really prefer not to hike for an hour in the blistering sun with strangers for no reason. I'll just get myself a smoothie or something and wait for y'all. OK?"
Or maybe I'll wuss out and just go on the hike and make everyone hate me because I can't control my bad attitude.
It started at the cabin. Near my family's farm, there is a cabin called Vikebo. It is beautiful, crafted of lovely rich woods with spectacular views of the fjord. However, it has not electricity, running water or toilet.
It has an outhouse.
If you are unfamiliar with me and my psychological problems, you probably aren't seeing the problem. But if you know me, you are cringing already. My feelings about outhouses are so very strong, it is impossible to truly convey them to you. Language is not a good enough tool; I would need to physically transport you to Hell to make you understand this level of negative emotion I'm talking about here. Outhouses to me represent all that is vile and evil in the world. Every bad idea, every disease, all pain and suffering can be summed up by the existence of the outhouse.
I don't use outhouses.
Well for the first two days in the cabin, I simply reduced my food and liquid consumption. In my mind, if I could just not eat or drink, I could eliminate the need to use the outhouse. I would only eat at other peoples' houses. That was my plan.
Well you can imagine how that worked. Day three I broke down and drank liquids.
I woke up at 2am, like I did every morning. But this time was different. I had to pee.
"Shit" I thought to myself. "OK, let's think this through. We're going to the farm house around 11. I can wait until then. I can. It's just a mind over matter type thing. What I'll do, is I'll go back to sleep and I won't wake up until 10:45 and then it will be fine. Fine."
I laid there in my bed. Thinking. Waiting. But it's not dark and I can't go back to sleep. So now this is a problem. After struggling mightily for two hours I knew what I had to do.
I had to use the outhouse.
I was shaking with fear. I prepared myself by getting my little bottle of hand sanitizer out, making sure it was easy to reach - when combating germs, seconds count. I held my breath of course - everyone knows that if you breathe in an outhouse you will be killed by every class of disease. I couldn't sit on the sit. I just couldn't. So I did what girls often do in this situation, I attempted to hover. However. I was not taking into account the fact that the outhouse was meant for Norwegian Viking Giants, not wee French girls. So my hover turned into more of a "forward bend" and you know what happened.
I peed all over myself.
"FUCK" I screamed. This was not a problem I should have had to deal with. I'm not a baby or an incontinent senior citizen.
Of course, with no running water, I couldn't wash myself or my clothes. My eyes filled with tears of rage. Contaiminated. I was contaminated with pee and outhouse diseases and filth.
Well there was nothing else to do. I walked down to the fjord, stripped my clothes off and decided to hop in to clean myself in the glacier water.
If you have never experienced glacier water at 4am in Norway, take my word for it. It's the coldest thing you will ever feel.
I touched my toe in quickly. My skin burned and the muscles contracted in fury beneath the skin as if to say "No the fuck you don't Dana".
OK. Clothes first. I took my clothes and dunked them in the water, beating them on rocks and getting them moderately clean. When that was done, I couldn't postpone any longer. I needed to clean myself. I sat on a rock and dangled my feet in, trying to get them used to it. They didn't get used to it. But I had no choice.
No choice.
I plunged in up to my waist and shrieked like a banshee, immediately zooming back out of the water to the safety of dry land.
I went back up to my room and got dressed, hating myself for my weakness.
Later that day, when we went to the farmhouse, I took the hottest shower ever, scouring every inch of my skin until it was lobster red and irritated. Then I refused to leave. It was maybe not the most polite thing I've ever done, but I just couldn't go back to the cabin. I couldn't. I situated myself in a spare bedroom and declared myself home for the duration of the trip.
Cosseted and spoiled with running water and electricity, I happily settled down into my comfortable new place.
But. One day my cousin suggested that we go for a hike.
I explained that I am not a hiker. I don't like hiking - it's really not my thing. My cousin assured me that it was a very easy hike - even her children could do it - and I didn't even need to bring water or anything.
But "easy" is a relative term. To me, an "easy" hike is essentially just a walk that takes place in the woods. To my family, "easy" is a two hour uphill muddy trek on a freaking mountain. All uphill. All. After an hour or so I was like "we're almost there, right?" I was sweating profusely, and was probably dehydrated from my ill-conceived "liquid reduction" plan, and I was not having fun. Prepared for an "easy" hike, I wore my designer jeans and a nice button down blouse from Anthropologie. They were covered in mud and sweat. I felt ugly and tired and miserable. And then I was told we were only about half way there.
Now, maybe if I cared about waterfalls it would have been totally worth it. But you have to understand, I don't really care that much about waterfalls. I mean, yes they're nice and all. I don't think they're UGLY or anything. I just don't think they're something to get all excited about. So, lacking proper motivation, I quit, like the weak spoiled Orange County Princess I have become. I trekked back down the mountain, purchased a bottle of lemon-sparkling water and fooled with my digital camera while I waited for my hardier family members to look at the waterfall and come back down again.
My family members are the nicest people alive. I love them dearly, especially for putting up with Princess Dana, which can be difficult. Ask Phil. But I'm totally intimidated by them. They're so big and strapping and hardy and tough. Compared to them I feel sickly and consumptive and difficult.
Tomorrow I start yoga teacher training. I'm pretty excited about it, except for the fact that our "getting to know you" activity is a one hour hike. They have described it as a "gentle, mellow" hike. In the same email they said to wear comfortable shoes. That's how I know "gentle" and "mellow" are lies.
I've learned that if an activity requires comfortable walking shoes, I'm not going to enjoy it. Unless it's Disneyland. But nothing else. Everything I like to do can be done in heels or barefoot.
The biggest problem is, this is a meet-and-greet type activity. This will be my classmates' first impression of me. That is not a good thing. They will forever have the impression that Dana is "that girl who bitches and moans and sweats and swears and has nothing nice to say about anything". And I'm not like that all the time! I don't want them to think that! But I'm also a truly bad liar. I won't be able to say I'm having a good time, or that it's such a nice day for a hike (It's really hot here! What are they thinking?)or that I'm happy to be there. The best I think I can pull off is brooding silence. But then I'll be "the mopey girl who won't talk to anyone". I don't want to be that girl either. And why do hippies think everyone likes hiking? Why? I signed up for yoga, not hiking! Part of what I love about yoga is that it's typically done indoors. Can I pretend to be sick? Not sure how that will go over....
There are some things about nature I like, however. I enjoy any kind of boat activity. And I also enjoy picnics as long as they don't take too long. But mostly nature terrifies me and makes me unhappy.
Here are some other examples of me versus nature:
Once while camping I attempted to make cheese tortellini with homemade gorgonzola sauce, sautéed mushrooms and wine for dinner. On a campfire. Because I hate camping food which is basically just hot dogs, chips, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and warm soda. So I thought I would classy up the place. It didn't go well. I had to borrow extra pans from some people downriver. I burned the bottoms of the pans which angered them. But seriously!? Who brings pans camping and says you can use them on a campfire and gets mad when the fire scorches them? That's what happens.
Another time while camping, we heard a truck come close to where we were camping. Then there were gunshots. Then there was low murmuring. We raced to my car, where we quietly, QUIETLY got in, covered ourselves with blankets and pretended not to be there. We didn't hear shit. We didn't see anything. Just please please leave us alive.
On hunting trips, I sometimes saw elk herds. Elk herds are terrifying.
See the skiing blog - lots of examples there.
Once during one of my husband's family reunions I got bitten by a mosquito. It was unpleasant.
Once for work I volunteered to to to Yosemite National Park to remove encroaching lodgepole pines. They warned us about "altitude sickness", describing it as getting sick from being on a mountain. "Haha" I said to myself. "That's ridiculous. How could fresh mountain air make you feel sick?". Well, as soon as we got up to 10,000 feet, I was pretty sure I was going to die. My head felt like nails were ramming into it, and my stomach rumbled with displeasure and I couldn't breathe. I didn't feel well. Well, the ranger came and gave us the "bear talk". I had never really been afraid of bears before, but the ranger struck the fear into me. So when literally every single person on the trip decided they wanted to - of course - hike, I felt pressured to go with them in order to avoid being eaten by the bears I would inevitably encounter if left alone. Well, if you have altitude sickness - which I did - a hike is basically the last thing you should do, right behind jogging and doing wind sprints. It made it so much worse that by the time we got back to camp all I could do was lie down, gasping for breath, as my feet went numb and my stomach punished me for depriving it of oxygen. I spent two days lying in a tent, unable to do much else. On day three I was well enough to stand and walk, so I decided to help out with the manual labor. I would lift my shears and do a little work and then go dry heave in the bushes for a few minutes. Then I would work for a few minutes and then I would have to lay down for a few minutes. Repeat.
Once Phil took me hiking in the mountains because he likes stuff like that. After roaming around on Mount Baker for what seemed like ages, I was ready to go. I had tried to be a good sport, but enough is enough. I wanted to eat some Italian food and take a nice hot bath adn put this nightmare behind me forever. Phil said to me "But don't you want to see what's over there?" "I Bet It's More Fucking Trees Phillip" I snapped. Phil was angry with me - and for good reason- I was being horrible. But nature brings that out in me. It's not pretty.
Once I was attacked by a goat.
Another time a goat got on top of my car and wouldn't get off of it. Do you know how to get a goat off your car? I didn't either.
Because I get cold outside, I tend to hover near the fire, no matter what. This usually results in lips so severely chapped that they crack and bleed, and clothes that stink like smoke. The blood from my lips drips onto my stinky clothes. I get progressively uglier as time goes on. By the time the trip is over I look homeless - and not like one of those trendy Portland/Seattle hipster homeless chicks - like the "needs-to-get-back-on-her-meds, someone should really do something" homeless.
My point is, I'm not an outdoors girl, and pretending that I am in an effort to please others only ends in misery.
So perhaps tomorrow I'll show up at yoga teacher training with a massive headache that will prevent me from hiking. Or perhaps I will be late due to traffic or work or whatever. Or perhaps I'll be honest and say "You know, I really prefer not to hike for an hour in the blistering sun with strangers for no reason. I'll just get myself a smoothie or something and wait for y'all. OK?"
Or maybe I'll wuss out and just go on the hike and make everyone hate me because I can't control my bad attitude.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
This is MY Blog. MY blog has to understand ME.
Perhaps you have seen the commercial currently running for "National University". It is a horrifying montage of young people making demands, always putting emphasis on the ME and MY, like spoiled five year olds. The commercial is pandering to young adults who are products of the current culture of child worship, which tells children that they are ENTITLED to a college education. And not only that they are entitled to a college education - they believe - actually believe - that it is the responsibility of the educational system to work hard to cater to their every whim, to make things easier on them, and to coddle them. In this blog, I will deconstruct this commercial line by line, to show it in all of it's horror.
1) MY university must challenge me.
Response: If you want a challenging university, you don't apply to an online program for starters. Also, challenge yourself! Whatever happened to the noble autodidact? I mean, obviously, a college is there to teach you and facilitate your learning, but in the end, you are responsible for your education, no matter what college you attend. Why does everyone want to be spoon fed? Ugh.
2) MY university must allow me to be competitive.
Response: YOU make YOURSELF competitive you little punk, by being a decent human being and learning and working hard.
3) MY university must give me skills that will launch my career.
Response: That's not so unreasonable. Though I object to your demanding tone.
4) MY university MUST offer online options.
Response: Again, not so unreasonable. I understand if you have to hold down a full time job and need online options. OK. You get a pass.
5) MY university has to connect with ME.
Response: This is just awful. You are horrible. First of all, what does that even mean? Is the school supposed to contact you? Remind you of deadlines? Send you surveys to let them know how they're doing? This isn't a telephone company or a restaurant for crying out loud. It's not a concierge. It's a school. Which means that YOU do the majority of the work, including contacting your school.
6) Whereever or whenever I need them.
Response. UGh. Oh this makes me mad. If I had talked with this kind of snotty sense of entitlement as a kid, I would have been drowned in the creek out back by my totally justified parents. "I want what I want when I want it" type statements do not endear you to employers or anyone actually. Perhaps this is why you didn't get into a real college, and why you can't get a decent job. Freaking attitude problems.
7) MY college should understand that MY future starts NOW.
Response: DAAAA. Again with the ME and the MY and the NOW. Who are these people? Could they BE more unlikeable? Besides, this statement makes no sense. Techically speaking, everyone's future starts now. So? What does that even mean? That the college is supposed to throw you some kind of celebration for taking the noble step of enrolling in some online technical school, because your future starts now? Do you want a trophy?
8) MY education should be THEIR priority.
Response: Are you seeing a pattern here? Do you understand why these people have no hope of a bright future? NO. NO stupid kid. Your education should be YOUR freaking priority. YOUR priority. YOUR priority. YOUR priority. THEIR priority is to make money and try to give you some skills so you're a less worthless person. THEIR priority is to keep a functioning business, while enabling you to become a slightly less sorry excuse for a self righteous overly entitled human being you fucking nightmare of a person. You are a monstrous walking abortion, and a slimy cornucopia of demanding mediocrity.
Oh, and by the way. These are some of the activities we see these abominable people engaging in while they make their outrageous demands.
* playing video games
* sitting in an outdoor cafe
* snowboarding
* shopping
* sitting in a bar while people play pool in the background
Really? Really? If this is how you spend your days, what exactly entitles you to anything? If you don't have a good job, which ostensibly you don't, who is funding all these snowboarding and shopping trips? Hmmmm? You're entitled to exactly nothing, aside from your basic civil liberties, because you are a drain on your families, and you're not even nice people, and you contribute nothing to society other than bratty demands and probably bastard children.
Sigh. I'm calming down now.
My point is, higher education is not your personal concierge service. You are supposed to EARN a degree by WORKING for it. It's not something you deserve, just by being alive. You are not entitled to it, and your college is not supposed to work around YOU. It's not all about YOU. If you have to sacrifice nothing to get a degree, then it's just a worthless piece of paper, because you didn't EARN it. Of course, it's not unreasonable to try to find the best program for you; one that matches your needs. But you can't expect a college to conform to every one of those needs; and you certainly shouldn't make demands on television, showing the world how spoiled rotten you are, shaming your grandparents.
1) MY university must challenge me.
Response: If you want a challenging university, you don't apply to an online program for starters. Also, challenge yourself! Whatever happened to the noble autodidact? I mean, obviously, a college is there to teach you and facilitate your learning, but in the end, you are responsible for your education, no matter what college you attend. Why does everyone want to be spoon fed? Ugh.
2) MY university must allow me to be competitive.
Response: YOU make YOURSELF competitive you little punk, by being a decent human being and learning and working hard.
3) MY university must give me skills that will launch my career.
Response: That's not so unreasonable. Though I object to your demanding tone.
4) MY university MUST offer online options.
Response: Again, not so unreasonable. I understand if you have to hold down a full time job and need online options. OK. You get a pass.
5) MY university has to connect with ME.
Response: This is just awful. You are horrible. First of all, what does that even mean? Is the school supposed to contact you? Remind you of deadlines? Send you surveys to let them know how they're doing? This isn't a telephone company or a restaurant for crying out loud. It's not a concierge. It's a school. Which means that YOU do the majority of the work, including contacting your school.
6) Whereever or whenever I need them.
Response. UGh. Oh this makes me mad. If I had talked with this kind of snotty sense of entitlement as a kid, I would have been drowned in the creek out back by my totally justified parents. "I want what I want when I want it" type statements do not endear you to employers or anyone actually. Perhaps this is why you didn't get into a real college, and why you can't get a decent job. Freaking attitude problems.
7) MY college should understand that MY future starts NOW.
Response: DAAAA. Again with the ME and the MY and the NOW. Who are these people? Could they BE more unlikeable? Besides, this statement makes no sense. Techically speaking, everyone's future starts now. So? What does that even mean? That the college is supposed to throw you some kind of celebration for taking the noble step of enrolling in some online technical school, because your future starts now? Do you want a trophy?
8) MY education should be THEIR priority.
Response: Are you seeing a pattern here? Do you understand why these people have no hope of a bright future? NO. NO stupid kid. Your education should be YOUR freaking priority. YOUR priority. YOUR priority. YOUR priority. THEIR priority is to make money and try to give you some skills so you're a less worthless person. THEIR priority is to keep a functioning business, while enabling you to become a slightly less sorry excuse for a self righteous overly entitled human being you fucking nightmare of a person. You are a monstrous walking abortion, and a slimy cornucopia of demanding mediocrity.
Oh, and by the way. These are some of the activities we see these abominable people engaging in while they make their outrageous demands.
* playing video games
* sitting in an outdoor cafe
* snowboarding
* shopping
* sitting in a bar while people play pool in the background
Really? Really? If this is how you spend your days, what exactly entitles you to anything? If you don't have a good job, which ostensibly you don't, who is funding all these snowboarding and shopping trips? Hmmmm? You're entitled to exactly nothing, aside from your basic civil liberties, because you are a drain on your families, and you're not even nice people, and you contribute nothing to society other than bratty demands and probably bastard children.
Sigh. I'm calming down now.
My point is, higher education is not your personal concierge service. You are supposed to EARN a degree by WORKING for it. It's not something you deserve, just by being alive. You are not entitled to it, and your college is not supposed to work around YOU. It's not all about YOU. If you have to sacrifice nothing to get a degree, then it's just a worthless piece of paper, because you didn't EARN it. Of course, it's not unreasonable to try to find the best program for you; one that matches your needs. But you can't expect a college to conform to every one of those needs; and you certainly shouldn't make demands on television, showing the world how spoiled rotten you are, shaming your grandparents.
Monday, June 6, 2011
KIds Can Be Stoopid Too
Once I was talking to an 16 year old girl about what her plans were for after high school. With a completely serious face, she told me that she wanted to go to med school and be a brain surgeon. This girl was beautiful, funny and kind. She was a lovely person. She was also dumb as a rock.
And yet, no one had properly discouraged her from the "brain surgeon" life path. Why? Because we, as a society, have collectively decided that there are no dumb children. We have decided that all children, regardless of capability, should be encouraged on the same PhD-earning-genius life path, regardless of ability or inclination. In fact, discouraging a child from this path is seen as almost abusive.
Now, of course, I'm aware that the girl I mentioned previously would probably not get into medical school. And if she did, she would probably not graduate. After all, their standards are rigorous and a truly dumb person would not be able to handle it. But a part of me still panicked. Because what if she did get by, scraping by on her looks and charm and kindness? And what if some day I need brain surgery? And what if, as I'm going under, I look into the eyes of the dumb, former sixteen year old as she hums "The knee bone's connected to the....something bone" to herself. I can't move or talk as I go under the knife of the moron, probably never to return to this earth.
What if?
I knew another girl who was attending community college, at the insistence of her parents. She was one of the nicest girls in the world, and had excellent taste in music and movies. We became friends. She was also dumb. Well, try as she might she could not pass her classes. Her parents were infuriated, saying that she just wasn't trying, and that she was being lazy.
But she wasn't being lazy. I personally helped her study for tests. I proofread her papers. She stayed home on weekends- instead of going out with her friends - to study. This girl was, truly, trying her hardest. She was just simply not very smart. She had trouble retaining information, and her writing was weirdly scattered and illogical. She told me, confidentially, that what she most wanted in the world was to be a mother, and that she had no interest in college at all, and that she was only going because her parents insisted.
Now, I don't think her parents were bad people. I think they wanted the best for their daughter. But I think they were doing her a disservice by refusing to acknowledge her limitations. The whole family would have been better off if they had stopped pressuring her to be someone that she could not be, no matter how hard she tried.
People need to realize and acknowledge that kids can be dumb too. It doesn't mean that they're bad people, or that they're useless, or that they can't be good at anything. But they're dumb. And that's ok.
Kids who suck at school are always excused on grounds other than stupidity. Now don't get me wrong. There are legitimate reasons for a genuinely bright kid to suck at school. For instance there are kids with dyslexia and ADD who have high IQs and good thinking skills, but because of their learning disabilities, just don't excel in normal school environments. And of course, there are kids who don't excel in school because they're being abused or whatever. And some kids are, actually lazy. But I think we need to acknowledge that some kids just plain suck at learning.
People often blame teachers when kids aren't learning well. They say "My kid is actually very smart, but Mrs. X just doesn't understand how to teach a special child like mine. She has a different learning style, that's all!" This angers me. First of all, the concept of "learning styles" is silly. Yes, some people learn better some ways than others, but if your brain is functioning at a normal level, you should be able to learn ANY way, not just some special specific way. If the teacher has to make up a little song and color code all her handouts and change font sizes and make your kid do jumping jacks every five minutes in order to make your kid learn, guess what? The problem ain't the teacher.
People also like to blame the "home environment" for kids not excelling in school. Putting aside the abusive parents, I'm skeptical that a home environment can actually make a kid dumb. Of course, a parent can work with their child, give them educational opportunities and provide a loving environment and proper nutrition and sleep, which DOES help. I'm not discrediting that. But if the kid just doesn't have the raw material, there is only so much parents can do to make the kid smart. Just like how sometimes geniuses are born to slack jawed mouth breathers with IQs of 80. Those dumb parents can't crush the genius, anymore than the smart parents can "fix" their dumb kid simply by nurturing it.
Of course, I believe that parents should encourage their kids to reach their potential. I just think they need to be realistic about what that potential is. The kids are going to find out sooner or later, when they start failing at things. I think it's kinder to put them on a path that leads them to make use of the advantages and skills they DO have. Is your dumb son mechanically inclined? By all means send him to trade school to learn to be a mechanic. Is your dumb daughter really good at baking? Why not encourage that as a career path? Are they good at athletics? By all means, push them in that direction. There are plenty of awesome career options that don't require rocket science smarts. For instance, professional singer, actor, chef, professional athlete, artist, musician, gardener, farmer, security guard, carpenter, welder or florist. These are solid, respectable careers in which your dumb kid can excel without feeling bad about herself.
What you should NOT do with your dumb kid is insist that they're smart, and that they just aren't trying hard enough, when in fact they are trying as hard as they possibly can. You shouldn't push them to be something they aren't. And we as a society need to acknowledge that kids are sometimes dumb, just like some adults are dumb. They can still be perfectly wonderful people who contribute to society and live fulfilling lives. There's no shame in it. There are more important things than intelligence anyway, such as good-heartedness, a sense of humor, and having an accurate moral compass. We need to stop blaming teachers and parents and TV and the internet and sugar for kids who fail to evince the sharp intelligence so coveted by most parents. Sometimes that's just the way it is. We should celebrate these kids for just who they are, stupidity and all.
And yet, no one had properly discouraged her from the "brain surgeon" life path. Why? Because we, as a society, have collectively decided that there are no dumb children. We have decided that all children, regardless of capability, should be encouraged on the same PhD-earning-genius life path, regardless of ability or inclination. In fact, discouraging a child from this path is seen as almost abusive.
Now, of course, I'm aware that the girl I mentioned previously would probably not get into medical school. And if she did, she would probably not graduate. After all, their standards are rigorous and a truly dumb person would not be able to handle it. But a part of me still panicked. Because what if she did get by, scraping by on her looks and charm and kindness? And what if some day I need brain surgery? And what if, as I'm going under, I look into the eyes of the dumb, former sixteen year old as she hums "The knee bone's connected to the....something bone" to herself. I can't move or talk as I go under the knife of the moron, probably never to return to this earth.
What if?
I knew another girl who was attending community college, at the insistence of her parents. She was one of the nicest girls in the world, and had excellent taste in music and movies. We became friends. She was also dumb. Well, try as she might she could not pass her classes. Her parents were infuriated, saying that she just wasn't trying, and that she was being lazy.
But she wasn't being lazy. I personally helped her study for tests. I proofread her papers. She stayed home on weekends- instead of going out with her friends - to study. This girl was, truly, trying her hardest. She was just simply not very smart. She had trouble retaining information, and her writing was weirdly scattered and illogical. She told me, confidentially, that what she most wanted in the world was to be a mother, and that she had no interest in college at all, and that she was only going because her parents insisted.
Now, I don't think her parents were bad people. I think they wanted the best for their daughter. But I think they were doing her a disservice by refusing to acknowledge her limitations. The whole family would have been better off if they had stopped pressuring her to be someone that she could not be, no matter how hard she tried.
People need to realize and acknowledge that kids can be dumb too. It doesn't mean that they're bad people, or that they're useless, or that they can't be good at anything. But they're dumb. And that's ok.
Kids who suck at school are always excused on grounds other than stupidity. Now don't get me wrong. There are legitimate reasons for a genuinely bright kid to suck at school. For instance there are kids with dyslexia and ADD who have high IQs and good thinking skills, but because of their learning disabilities, just don't excel in normal school environments. And of course, there are kids who don't excel in school because they're being abused or whatever. And some kids are, actually lazy. But I think we need to acknowledge that some kids just plain suck at learning.
People often blame teachers when kids aren't learning well. They say "My kid is actually very smart, but Mrs. X just doesn't understand how to teach a special child like mine. She has a different learning style, that's all!" This angers me. First of all, the concept of "learning styles" is silly. Yes, some people learn better some ways than others, but if your brain is functioning at a normal level, you should be able to learn ANY way, not just some special specific way. If the teacher has to make up a little song and color code all her handouts and change font sizes and make your kid do jumping jacks every five minutes in order to make your kid learn, guess what? The problem ain't the teacher.
People also like to blame the "home environment" for kids not excelling in school. Putting aside the abusive parents, I'm skeptical that a home environment can actually make a kid dumb. Of course, a parent can work with their child, give them educational opportunities and provide a loving environment and proper nutrition and sleep, which DOES help. I'm not discrediting that. But if the kid just doesn't have the raw material, there is only so much parents can do to make the kid smart. Just like how sometimes geniuses are born to slack jawed mouth breathers with IQs of 80. Those dumb parents can't crush the genius, anymore than the smart parents can "fix" their dumb kid simply by nurturing it.
Of course, I believe that parents should encourage their kids to reach their potential. I just think they need to be realistic about what that potential is. The kids are going to find out sooner or later, when they start failing at things. I think it's kinder to put them on a path that leads them to make use of the advantages and skills they DO have. Is your dumb son mechanically inclined? By all means send him to trade school to learn to be a mechanic. Is your dumb daughter really good at baking? Why not encourage that as a career path? Are they good at athletics? By all means, push them in that direction. There are plenty of awesome career options that don't require rocket science smarts. For instance, professional singer, actor, chef, professional athlete, artist, musician, gardener, farmer, security guard, carpenter, welder or florist. These are solid, respectable careers in which your dumb kid can excel without feeling bad about herself.
What you should NOT do with your dumb kid is insist that they're smart, and that they just aren't trying hard enough, when in fact they are trying as hard as they possibly can. You shouldn't push them to be something they aren't. And we as a society need to acknowledge that kids are sometimes dumb, just like some adults are dumb. They can still be perfectly wonderful people who contribute to society and live fulfilling lives. There's no shame in it. There are more important things than intelligence anyway, such as good-heartedness, a sense of humor, and having an accurate moral compass. We need to stop blaming teachers and parents and TV and the internet and sugar for kids who fail to evince the sharp intelligence so coveted by most parents. Sometimes that's just the way it is. We should celebrate these kids for just who they are, stupidity and all.
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