Associate's. Check.
Moving on to Bachelor's. Check.
My new institution heavily believes in group projects though, and I'm told to expect at least one every class. The next two years just got much, much longer.
Factor in the teachers who want to spoonfeed these dick wagons that don't want to contribute, or jump in last minute and act like they're really "trying their best, it's just so hard!" Spare me. Every one of your posts, emails, and class interactions are done after 5pm on Sunday, don't meet the requirements, or sound like you said the first thing that came to mind. You're clearly either not trying, your workload's too heavy, or you suck at time management. None of those are my fault.
I give a shit about my grade. I've fallen down the rabbit hole with loans, and plan to at least get a strong GPA out of it. Just because I care about my grades doesn't mean you should be entitled to share my rewards without any effort of your own.
And I know group projects are supposed to build your ability to work together, prepare you for your job, blah blah blah. I've been working for the past 10 years of my life. Those people are motivated to do their part because their livelihood is on the line. Something that takes that much money away from you should also be an inspiring boot in the ass though, right? Doesn't happen as often as you'd hope. (Granted, there are people like this at work as well, but if the problem becomes serious, their consequences are much more dire, like getting fired. Any teacher's response has been to be patient and just hope the other person comes through. How about "no" and "fuck you"?)
Also, why the fuck am I paying for teachers who are instituting this bullshit approach so they have fewer things to grade? I'm paying the big bucks, my classes are small, why shouldn't I have that extra bit of attention? It doesn't stop the syllabus from having expansive research papers from everyone due weekly, so why do we have to throw in this ridiculous "extra project" to demonstrate which students are taking the time and making the effort?
Starting to wonder if this whole thing is a waste of money...
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Just Another Day (Or Why I Don't Celebrate Mother's Day)
Dear "Mom",
I know people operate under the presumption that you should love and honor your parents. But I feel neither for you. For 17 years, you mentally and emotionally abused me. Leaving home was like removing a heavy weight from my chest that I didn't even realize had been there.
And it stung that you didn't bother to visit or call -- I had to be the one to do that. To see how you and my siblings were doing. I guess I should appreciate that you did come to my high school graduation party (which I had to throw for myself). But I think I would've appreciated your presence more if you didn't immediately hit me up for the cash I received right after.
Up until then, I hadn't put much stock in what your extended family said about you being a user and only interested in how they could help you. I learned that message fast, but the lesson slow. I gave you the money, but I hated the way it made me feel, pushing me down the path I'd started on away from you.
And when I moved 1000 miles away for my husband's active duty, and became pregnant. Do you remember when I told you that you were going to be a first-time grandma? I do. You never responded or showed the slightest bit of interest until I miscarried. But of course that was also about you. "I've been trying to get pregnant too, and experienced X, Y, and Z. What were your symptoms? If they're the same, maybe I've been miscarrying too. What should I do to avoid that?" Not once did you ask how I was doing. Me alone in a state far from everyone I knew, my husband deployed for six month in South America. I felt even worse after hanging up that call, which I hadn't thought possible.
Of course after we returned, you just had to break out and move a couple states away. Damn needing jobs, savings, or a place to stay, and an added bonus of taking my sister far away from the rest of her family, denying them visitation. But it was me you called when shit hit the fan, your current husband bailing and leaving you with nothing. Pleading with a daughter you hadn't spoken to in years for help, but refusing to actually make any luck of your own. In the end, you ignored my help and fed on the kindness of strangers that cared for my teen sister and her unfortunate situation.
And I don't even want to rehash Renee's graduation. That was a mess.
But the last time you had the gall to contact me, to say you finally wanted to know exactly what the issues were and how they should be fixed. You got to me. That's all I've ever wanted from you. And then you fled down the dark rabbit hole of denial and showed your true intentions. You wanted me to make a three-hour drive to "fix things" face-to-face, and soon. Disregard the fact that I work full-time, that I have a family too, that I'm a full-time student. I knew it wouldn't be a short conversation, so I offered to take vacation from work after the college semester was over. It'd give us as long as we needed, whether it be a few hours or a few days. Your ultimatum showed your hand -- you only wanted some kind of assistance, it didn't matter who it came from and it had to be soon. You preyed on that mother-daughter relationship you knew I'd always craved and said it was now or never.
And so it will be never. Our relationship is not a hostage you can keep using to pull my heart strings.
I'll admit, it still tears me up inside. I still cry. But I've accepted the reality of the situation, and refuse to be your doormat, just because you gave birth to me. All the things I wish we could talk about, that we could share, I know it's not an option. If it was, I would've invited you to my college graduation last week. Yeah, did you even realize I was in college? I'd told you last time we spoke that the semester was the reason I had to wait to visit you, but I don't think it ever registered. First person in our family ever to get a college degree, doesn't that make you proud? Don't you want to know what I'm trying to be when I "grow up"?
Biologically, yes, you're my mother. But in any other way, I deny it. There are wonderful women I have met that have been a much more caring, nurturing, supportive force in my life than you ever were. They were there at my graduation, cheering me on and telling me how far I have come, how strong I've been, and how proud they are of my accomplishments. They see me for who I am and can be, not what I can give them.
And they serve to remind me. I am not the one who's missing out. It's you.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Always in the Shadows
The weather cannot make up it's mind. It's hot, then cold. Rain, ice, snow, sun, clouds, repeat, repeat. Every time I think spring may be on it's way, the landscape freezes and kills the green buds brave enough to have crept out in the sunlight. It's discouraging, but reminds me of myself.
I have tentatively tried to grow socially, to reach out and be friendlier. I'm quickly reminded though of how I don't fit in, how people would rather sit in silence than address me, going as far as blatantly ignoring when I try to drum up a topic. The ones that speak to me tell me I'm sweet, and kind, a good person to know. I'm confused and disappointed (mostly confused) that I get such a strong inverse reaction from others. And the negative keeps beating me back, reverting me to what is simplest, what I know best. To be a wallflower, hidden in shadows, ignored or unnoticed.
My birthday comes and goes with little fanfare. Lawrence takes me to dinner and gets me a nice dress, to help in updating my wardrobe to fit my recent smaller figure. He tells me how much I mean to him and how happy he is I'm in his life. He is kind, and his words touch me, but I can't help to think the day marks 20 years of my father not wanting me in his life.
I will never understand what pushed him to choose drink over his children, to not provide for them, and to not have any kind of relationship where they were a part of his life. I will never know if I have half-siblings, if he thinks of us from time to time, if he even remembers our names.
I hear other co-workers say their life was so incomplete because their dad wasn't there to toss the pigskin at their beck and call, or that they didn't come to every school event, and all I can feel is bitterness welling up inside me. I bite back the tears and my tongue, to prevent myself from letting them know how good they have it. That they still speak to their father, and he will converse with them, the simple fact that they know where he is and that he's alive. I feel the anger and sadness well up inside me, but take a deep breath and let it wash over me. I know my pain won't translate, no matter how I string together the words.
And so I continue to sit quiet, unwilling to speak the words that will fall on deaf ears.
I have tentatively tried to grow socially, to reach out and be friendlier. I'm quickly reminded though of how I don't fit in, how people would rather sit in silence than address me, going as far as blatantly ignoring when I try to drum up a topic. The ones that speak to me tell me I'm sweet, and kind, a good person to know. I'm confused and disappointed (mostly confused) that I get such a strong inverse reaction from others. And the negative keeps beating me back, reverting me to what is simplest, what I know best. To be a wallflower, hidden in shadows, ignored or unnoticed.
My birthday comes and goes with little fanfare. Lawrence takes me to dinner and gets me a nice dress, to help in updating my wardrobe to fit my recent smaller figure. He tells me how much I mean to him and how happy he is I'm in his life. He is kind, and his words touch me, but I can't help to think the day marks 20 years of my father not wanting me in his life.
I will never understand what pushed him to choose drink over his children, to not provide for them, and to not have any kind of relationship where they were a part of his life. I will never know if I have half-siblings, if he thinks of us from time to time, if he even remembers our names.
I hear other co-workers say their life was so incomplete because their dad wasn't there to toss the pigskin at their beck and call, or that they didn't come to every school event, and all I can feel is bitterness welling up inside me. I bite back the tears and my tongue, to prevent myself from letting them know how good they have it. That they still speak to their father, and he will converse with them, the simple fact that they know where he is and that he's alive. I feel the anger and sadness well up inside me, but take a deep breath and let it wash over me. I know my pain won't translate, no matter how I string together the words.
And so I continue to sit quiet, unwilling to speak the words that will fall on deaf ears.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Starting Second Semester
The seasons have changed. The wind is bitter cold, biting at any exposed skin it can find. Snow drifts and swirls in the stiff breezes, claiming casualties in auto pileups. I am never ready for winter when it appears.
My first semester at college has come and gone. I have learned so much and yet discovered there is much more I didn't know in the process. My boss rallies behind me, and starts to include me in meetings and discussions with the department I hope to join after my degree is completed. Her efforts are appreciated, and a good way to lay groundwork for the transition, but I am not enjoying much of what I find in these verbal transactions.
I'm going for a degree in programming, and I have known from the start that the field is primarily dominated by men, an uphilll battle for the brave entrants of a female persuasion. I like to think that as long as I'm good and engaged my work, I will be doing what I can to reach some form of equality in the ranks.
Things with the department at my current employer are hard to gauge though. I admit my lack of knowledge and experience in the actual working field may skew things in a different way, but I get concerned about what potentials I might be "allowed" to bring. They seem to be steadfast -- too steadfast -- in what we can do and what options there are, reverting to old school programs and approaches while new (sometimes better) options present themselves and projects of the past cease to be relevant, or even functioning.
If I learn all these new options and the potentials they have, will I even be able to use them, or voted down by a majority? I'm excited my career path is changing, finally evolving in a direction I specifically chose, but I worry about the limitations I may face from others. I want to be passionate and enjoy what I do 40 hours a week, and I'm doing my best to make it a reality. I just never considered the roadblock might be something besides myself.
My first semester at college has come and gone. I have learned so much and yet discovered there is much more I didn't know in the process. My boss rallies behind me, and starts to include me in meetings and discussions with the department I hope to join after my degree is completed. Her efforts are appreciated, and a good way to lay groundwork for the transition, but I am not enjoying much of what I find in these verbal transactions.
I'm going for a degree in programming, and I have known from the start that the field is primarily dominated by men, an uphilll battle for the brave entrants of a female persuasion. I like to think that as long as I'm good and engaged my work, I will be doing what I can to reach some form of equality in the ranks.
Things with the department at my current employer are hard to gauge though. I admit my lack of knowledge and experience in the actual working field may skew things in a different way, but I get concerned about what potentials I might be "allowed" to bring. They seem to be steadfast -- too steadfast -- in what we can do and what options there are, reverting to old school programs and approaches while new (sometimes better) options present themselves and projects of the past cease to be relevant, or even functioning.
If I learn all these new options and the potentials they have, will I even be able to use them, or voted down by a majority? I'm excited my career path is changing, finally evolving in a direction I specifically chose, but I worry about the limitations I may face from others. I want to be passionate and enjoy what I do 40 hours a week, and I'm doing my best to make it a reality. I just never considered the roadblock might be something besides myself.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
SSDD
Things have been quite hectic lately. I've decided on a major, been going to college, and work has been gratuitously busy (as it always is during the last few months of the year). Honestly, I have no complaints, other than the lack of free time for personal endeavors, but I know it'll be worth it in the long run. I've already excitedly searched for companies in areas I'd like to move to, once I've established myself in my field of choice. I get ahead of myself, but sometimes the promise of the future can be a beautiful and exciting thing. I look forward to all the opportunities I've denied myself in the past.
Home life has been good, but we haven't hit the holiday/birthday marathons just yet, so that may be subject to change in the next two months...Some people have luck with in-laws and some don't. The way the cookie crumbles, I suppose.
Yes, this entry is short and lame, without anything going for it, but frankly when things are the same cardboard cutout every day and nothing is rocking the boat, there isn't much to report.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Them's the Breaks
I stumbled out of bed, crossed my fingers and stepped onto the scale. For once, it didn't completely disappoint me. I've finally lost 24 pounds in my journey to better myself and my health. I have quite a bit to go, but you have to start somewhere, and my results haven't happened randomly or magically.
It set the mood for the day.
Renee recently turned 18, so in celebration Devon, Lawrence, Renee and I decided to go out for a day of fun. We decided on a well-known children's museum that none of us had been to. She had to laugh at the irony of celebrating her birthday that marked stepping into adulthood being spent somewhere made for children.
We had a nice time and caught up as summer has been hectic and I haven't seen her as much as I would like. Her job search has been (unsurprisingly) not going well, as she has no vehicle and her father lives in a town of less than 300 people. I did find out that Mother has been constantly calling and texting her all hours of the day and night. She has repeatedly asked Renee to move back in with her, which Renee has (thankfully) refused to do, adamantly.
I think Mother has finally realized the gravity of her situation -- she is married to a man that she does not love (and that does not love her), she is jobless, practically penniless, and has burned any bridges with family members that would be able or willing to help her get out of her situation.
I am sad -- she is my Mother too, after all -- but I will not allow her to take from me any more than she already has. I have worked hard to get where I am and will not risk losing it to help someone as manipulative and ungrateful as her.
It set the mood for the day.
Renee recently turned 18, so in celebration Devon, Lawrence, Renee and I decided to go out for a day of fun. We decided on a well-known children's museum that none of us had been to. She had to laugh at the irony of celebrating her birthday that marked stepping into adulthood being spent somewhere made for children.
We had a nice time and caught up as summer has been hectic and I haven't seen her as much as I would like. Her job search has been (unsurprisingly) not going well, as she has no vehicle and her father lives in a town of less than 300 people. I did find out that Mother has been constantly calling and texting her all hours of the day and night. She has repeatedly asked Renee to move back in with her, which Renee has (thankfully) refused to do, adamantly.
I think Mother has finally realized the gravity of her situation -- she is married to a man that she does not love (and that does not love her), she is jobless, practically penniless, and has burned any bridges with family members that would be able or willing to help her get out of her situation.
I am sad -- she is my Mother too, after all -- but I will not allow her to take from me any more than she already has. I have worked hard to get where I am and will not risk losing it to help someone as manipulative and ungrateful as her.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Ignoring the Seed
I have been a busy gal lately. Between work, personal craft projects, getting college set up and my diet/ exercise plan, I've had a hard time catching a moment for myself.
Last week while lying awake in bed, I wondered aloud in the dark to Lawrence about various things I'm worrying about or just thinking about in general. The topic of all of the pies I have my thumb in came up and I heard him sigh. Confused, I turned toward him and asked what was on his mind.
"I'm afraid you're going to burn yourself out. You're already so busy at work, taking on twice the responsibilities you did last year, plus now exercising and school. Something is going to suffer because of it."
I was taken aback, surprised he felt that way. I suppose it certainly made sense, but I'd not really thought about it before. I exercise on my lunch and would have my evenings and weekends free for coursework, so everything would fit into a day just fine. Sure, I'll be more than ready for Christmas break, but I thought I was improving a lot of things for the positive - getting healthy and in shape, earning a degree - I was focused on where they would get me in the future, but not what it may cost me now.
On the bright side, being enrolled in school has awakened something in him I've never seen before - some sort of hope for both he and I to improve ourselves. (We are both college drop-outs, due to some financial issues). Seeing me get back into it has made him entertain an idea he has always shot down before: for him to go back to college as well, after his school loans are paid off.
Some days I think he is more excited and proud than I for my latest pursuit, but I love seeing his face light up when the topic comes up, or how he can't wait to share the news with people. He's almost like a little kid.
In his roundabout way, he has both inspired me and planted a small seed of doubt. I am getting nervous as the days on the calendar tick off, one by one. To fight the nerves, I am focusing on making it look easy. If I can prove to him I can do it, maybe it will inspire him to stick with the idea of returning himself, when the time comes.
Last week while lying awake in bed, I wondered aloud in the dark to Lawrence about various things I'm worrying about or just thinking about in general. The topic of all of the pies I have my thumb in came up and I heard him sigh. Confused, I turned toward him and asked what was on his mind.
"I'm afraid you're going to burn yourself out. You're already so busy at work, taking on twice the responsibilities you did last year, plus now exercising and school. Something is going to suffer because of it."
I was taken aback, surprised he felt that way. I suppose it certainly made sense, but I'd not really thought about it before. I exercise on my lunch and would have my evenings and weekends free for coursework, so everything would fit into a day just fine. Sure, I'll be more than ready for Christmas break, but I thought I was improving a lot of things for the positive - getting healthy and in shape, earning a degree - I was focused on where they would get me in the future, but not what it may cost me now.
On the bright side, being enrolled in school has awakened something in him I've never seen before - some sort of hope for both he and I to improve ourselves. (We are both college drop-outs, due to some financial issues). Seeing me get back into it has made him entertain an idea he has always shot down before: for him to go back to college as well, after his school loans are paid off.
Some days I think he is more excited and proud than I for my latest pursuit, but I love seeing his face light up when the topic comes up, or how he can't wait to share the news with people. He's almost like a little kid.
In his roundabout way, he has both inspired me and planted a small seed of doubt. I am getting nervous as the days on the calendar tick off, one by one. To fight the nerves, I am focusing on making it look easy. If I can prove to him I can do it, maybe it will inspire him to stick with the idea of returning himself, when the time comes.
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