How We Learn

Location: home
Mood: calm

I’m reading this book (My Ishmael), and the part I’ve just read through brought up some interesting arguments. Very pertinent to my life.

The way we teach people is kind of screwed up. We put people through 12-14 years of classes that teach them all kinds of theories and philosophies that may be helpful when they graduate and enter the job market. When they do exactly that, they have absolutely no experience. They have all kinds of theories and ideas floating around in their heads, but they have no practical knowledge or experience.

For thousands and thousands of years people have learned by seeing. We learn how to talk by being around others who talk. We hear their words, and figure out for ourselves how to use them. The same thing goes for walking, reading, and interacting with one another. So, how come at some point we decide to ship kids off to facilities where they sit in a desk and stare at someone who merely explains things to them?

I’m not saying that I think people shouldn’t go to school, but I am saying that schools should reevaluate their practices. You can’t merely explain complicated procedures to people and expect them to be able to do them. You can’t just tell someone how to solve for x, and expect them to be able to do it under any and all circumstances.

I think that the way we teach math proves my point. Math teachers do more than just explain the theory of algebra. They show you. They do a countless number of problems on the white-erase board, or on an overhead projector. They give their students problems to try on their own. Then, when their students still need help, math teachers do the problems with them thus helping them to see how they are done.

With all this evidence around that shows us how we learn, why do we continue to teach the way we do? Whether they know it or not, people don’t believe it works either. Certain jobs require you to have certain degrees. Many require a bachelor’s degree, but when you finally receive that degree you have no more knowledge about how to perform that job. People clearly don’t believe this process works. This is proved by the fact that the people who do the hiring normally pass over the fully qualified applicants in favor of those who have experience.

Whether we are aware of it or not, we prefer to employ people who have seen and done the work.

Why does the system work the way it does? Education should involve practical experience. Also, I think that employers should provide training for new employees that includes SHOWING them what to do. Sometimes these things are done, but most of the time they aren’t. What’s the point in continuing a process that doesn’t work?

Mysterious Interview

I had an interview today. If I’m being totally honest, it was a job I didn’t want in the first place. It was working for a facility that cares for adults with developmental disabilities, and I was worried that I was going to be a professional ass-wiper. Harsh, but true. Did you know that people who do that usually make minimum wage?!

Anyhow, the interview is at 10am. It’s 15 minutes (maximum) from my house. I leave as half hour early.

Armed with my new best friend Gloria PeuterSchmidt, I can find anywhere in the world! Or so I thought.

The place doesn’t exist. I spoke with someone on the phone, they gave me this address. I looked it up before I left. Same address. I drove to the location of this address, and no facility exists there.

There was a business complex where this place should have been. So, I entered the complex, and drove around under the assumption that one of the tenants was this facility...nope. Nothing.

I called them. No answer.

Now I’m curious.

My New Best Friend

Location: My Car
Mood: creative
 

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One of my Christmas presents was a best friend. I have named her Gloria PeuterSchmidt. She is this woman who speaks in a very calming manner. Her entire reason for existence is to sit on my dash and guide me to my destinations.

Gloria knows everything about roads, maps, and getting places. She’s amazing! I just give her a few details, and, almost instantly, she can tell me how to get to where I need to be. If there’s a road closure, or I miss a turn it’s not a problem. Gloria just quickly figures out how to get myself back on track. She’s not married to any particular route. Glo goes with the flow.

The other day I met a friend for dinner, and it required me to cross the Morrison bridge. Apparently I am directionally impaired, because I somehow managed to cross and recross the Morrison bridge three times before I found a place to park. Most people would begin to get frustrated with that. Not Gloria. Each time she just calmly reassessed the area and told me how to get back to The Rock Bottom Brewery (my destination). Her directions were never unreasonable either.

Like most friends, my relationship with Gloria has its drawbacks. When Gloria has something to do she demands my attention. She speaks at a constant volume. She can change her volume, but not depending on the circumstances. Also, when Gloria wants it, she demands your attention. It doesn’t matter to her if I’m on the phone or not, she is going to say what she’s got to say.

The other day I was at the Starbucks drive-through. This confused Gloria because it wasn’t on any road she was aware of (it was in a parking lot). While I was making my order Gloria says rather loudly “Whenever possible, make a legal U-turn.” This confused the person taking my order, but Gloria didn’t care.

As you can see, we have some things we need to work through. Gloria is not without quirks. She thinks that Richey is pronounced “Jew-gee,” and there’s no reasoning with her when she’s made up her mind. However, I’m pretty sure that Gloria PeuterSchmidt is my new best friend.

I love you GPS.

Stupidly in Love with an Evil Wizard

Location: Borders
Mood: annoyed
 

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Seattle’s Best is currently my favorite coffee shop. The only one around my house is at Borders, and I got a Borders gift card for Christmas. In light of these facts, I decided to go to Borders today.

If you are a fan of my blog, (and let’s face it: who isn’t?) then you know that I am in love with a mysterious man who works at Borders. He’s only mysterious because I’m retarded and can’t talk to him. This confuses me. Why can’t I talk to this guy? It makes no sense! So, I started thinking about it today and I came to the most logical conclusion. HE’S A WIZARD!

Duh! It’s so obvious!

When I went into Borders I went straight back to the coffee shop to get what I ALWAYS get, a white chocolate mocha. It’s fabulous, and if you haven’t tried SB’s white chocolate mocha then you might as well just hit yourself over the head with a shovel. The last few times I’ve been there I’ve inexplicably started a conversation with the people in line with me. Not today though.

Today, my borders boyfriend got in line behind me. As soon as I notice he’s behind me I freeze. I can’t think of anything to say. What s wrong with me?

To make matters worse, when the barista asked me what I wanted...I drew a blank! I get the same god damned thing every time I go there!

This is why I have decided he’s a wizard. He has clearly cast some spell on me that makes me a dumb mute! And he’s got to be evil because it’s just mean. I mean: What the hell?!! What did I ever do to him? I mean besides love him.

I have settled with this explanation because it makes the most sense. The other option is that I am actually in love with this guy I don’t know. Stupidly in love. I don’t even know him! Why do I act this way? That is why the only logical explanation is that he is an evil wizard who has cast a spell on me that makes me STUPIDLY in love with him.

Good Lord! I have a problem.

My Ice Prison

Location: Gresham

Mood: amused

I woke up this morning only to see that my front porch has been completely hidden. Yup, it’s totally and completely hidden.

How can that be?
Snow.

There is so much snow on the ground that it is completely covering our front porch. That’s gotta be like 2 feet right?

Even more impressive. My brother’s car is out in front of our house...or at least I thought it was. It was there last night. This morning, his car has vanished! Yes people, the magic has happened. Someone has made an entire vehicle disappear!

Okay, his car isn’t completely invisible, but it’s hard to make out underneath the snow.
I’m impressed, and slightly scared.

I’ve never seen this much snow in Gresham. Has there ever been this much snow in Gresham?
This sucks. There are actually people to play with because it’s winter break. My friends are home, but I can’t hangout with them because there’s an ice fortress forming outside our homes. We are trapped inside.

Things like this happen in my life. I’m bored all the time, but there’s no one to hang with. Then, when there’s people to hangout with, there’s no way of doing it. I can’t help but laugh.

Also, I may have broken my wrist. That’s the funniest part about this whole situation. The day before this ridiculous downpour of nature’s prison, I was hanging out with some long lost friends. They discovered a patch of ice, and, naturally, we were compelled to slide around on it. Well, I’m a goofus, but I thought I was cool. I was attempting to master the greatest ice-trick known to mankind. Convinced that I would impress people I call out: “Hey guys look at me I’m a graceful ballerina!”

BIG MISTAKE.

I should have known better. Calling attention to my grace can lead to nothing but an epic demonstration of my ineptitude.

The intention was a legendary pirouette. -- That’s a one legged spin for those of you who don’t know. In my mind, the pirouette was going to be pulled off impressively, and the two guys I was with were going to think I was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

I must say at this point, I realize that even if I had pulled of the monumental masterpiece of movement, the reaction probably would have been lackluster. I don’t know why I think I’m such hot shit. Because, in reality the reaction would have probably been something along the lines of “oh...uh...yeah...that was...*special* Mindy.”

Well, no worries, because there was no way I was going to successfully spin after my omen-ing outburst. I got up the oomph, lifted my leg, and next thing I know I’m on all fours in the middle of the road.

I thought that the biggest injury was my ego, because I felt like I’d just scraped up my wrist and knee. However, the next morning I started to become increasingly aware of the pain in my wrist. It still functions like a normal wrist, but it’s hard to carry things, and it hurts to bend it.

I had my dad look at it. He said I should probably get X-rays, and I planned to do so the next day (yesterday). Well, that wasn’t happening. I have been thwarted by the weather once again! Now, today, we’re almost literally snowed in.

Such is my life. I’m nothing if not entertaining.

I’m bored too. I really want to be 10 years old again. I want to organize a huge snowball fight, but no one can come out and play.

The Things That Hapen to Me

Location: Home
Mood: giggly
 

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I seem to be a magnet for a certain type of experience. I can’t complain too much...Well, that’s a lie. I can complain all I want, but these things do make my life more interesting.

I had a job-interview-type thingy on Monday. It had just snowed, but I need a job so bad that I figured I’d brave it. So, I get in my base-line, no frills, Toyota Corolla, and attempt to climb my way out of our inclined cul de sac. I manage to turn around and begin the incline, but as I hit the top I reach a patch of ice. It was almost like a lip that sealed our cul de sac off from the intersecting street.

I revved my engine to manage my way over the lip… nothing. I try again. Nothing. Directly across from me is a man scraping the windows on his car. He’s watching his young son play in the road. I noticed that he suddenly becomes very aware of me.

I try to overcome my barrier once again. The man calls to his son, and he runs out of the street. Then the two of them just stand there and watch as I attempt over, and over, and over, and over, to get out of the evil circle that keeps me from my future.

It was not as if they didn’t notice me. I had revved my engine so much that a burning smell was beginning to rise from below me.

Now, I’m starting to think that my neighbors are just rude. Is chivalry really dead? Wouldn’t the polite thing be to come over and offer some help? I guess not.

Frustrated, I laugh to myself. Then I called my brother to save the day. He came out, and pushed me to freedom. Yay for big brothers!

I contemplated giving the man and his son the finger...but I think I’m a better person than that.

Later on I found out that my brother didn’t actually do anything, he just stood behind me and gave the illusion of pushing.

Today is Symbolic of My Life

That's a car under there!

Location: Home
Mood: comically frustrated
 

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I’m angry at the world, but in a completely humorous way.

     Last night I went to a friend’s birthday dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory. I got a pomegranate Limoncello (to which my brother points out PART of the drink was 12% alcohol). I ate a spinach and cheese ravioli, and had a big dessert, and still managed to end the evening with a nice little buzz.
     When I got home I was expecting my parents to be gone, but there in the living room sat my Dad. So, I went about business as usual, but felt silly. Then I went to my room to prepare for bed. I blogged, and then got excited to read the book I’ve been reading. --; It’s this book that I fully recognize as stupid, but I LOVE it anyway.
     I finished the book...which makes me angry. Lately, each time I finish a book, unless it sucks, I get really angry because that means I have to find another one. Why do books have to end? It’s just rude! I used to be a slow reader, but my new life has made that part of me disappear as well. I hated being a slow reader. NOW, I hate being a quick reader. Can a book just freaking last?!
     When I finished the book it was 2:30am, and I was not tired at ALL. Sometimes alcohol just makes me antsy instead of sleepy. Damn you limoncello!
     So, I toss, turn, and think about my life. The last one is something that I avoid doing, because it just pisses me off. I get angry with myself mostly though. Then I start trying to think of something I can do about it.
    Anyway, I decide that I guess I’ll apply to grad school. It’s not really want I want to do right now, but it’s something. It’ll get me out of the house, and possibly help me with my whole “I’m qualified but have no experience” shtick.
     When I finish that, I decide that after I sleep-in (which I’m going to finally get to do because my dad won’t be there to judge me as lazy when I wake up after 9am) I’m going to get all cute, and spend the day at the book store. Get a coffee, find a new book, and try to speak to my imaginary boyfriend.
     I slept till 11am… Considering I didn’t fall asleep till after 5am, I expected to sleep longer, but that’s okay. I come downstairs and look out the window to find 2-3 inches of snow on the ground...well shit.
    There goes my plan for the day. I can’t drive my Corolla in the snow! Then I look into grad school applications, and turns out I need three academic references and I have...let me count...zero!
     Today is like a micro-version of my life right now. I’m TRAPPED in my house! I have no job, and can’t seem to get one, and there’s NOTHING I can do about it!!! I just want to scream, but I realize that it’s actually kind of funny.

I should probably calm down now because I just got a bloody nose...is that a sign?

The Two Trees

UPDATE: February2010

Upon review, I've realized that it's necessary to site my source on this one. This was a writing exercise I did after viewing the movie Wrist Cutters: A Love Story. This story was told during one of the scenes. I liked it so much that I was afraid I might some day forget it. This was my attempt to remember it the next day.
Location: Home
Mood: mellow

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     There’s this forest somewhere, and in this forest there are two trees. Actually, there are many trees, because it’s a forest, but these two stand out. They have an interesting relationship.
     One tree is tall, strong, and grows perfectly straight. The other tree is crooked, and very aware of it. The crooked tree envies the straight tree. Often it thinks to itself, “that straight tree is so beautiful. I wish I could grow straight like that tree.”
     The straight tree knows about this. It taunts the crooked one.

It says, “look at me, I’m so straight, and strong. I’m perfect. I bet you wish you could be straight like me.  Too bad you’re crooked”

     Then one day a bunch of loggers came traipsing into the forest. They looked around at all the trees around them. The boss looked at the perfectly straight tree, and finally he spoke. He said “cut down all the straight ones and we’ll take them back. They’re perfect.” And so the loggers did just that.
     They left only a few trees, including the crooked one, and it stands there to this day. Crooked as the day is long, but tall, thick, and strong. The tree just smiles to itself because it knows that its imperfections saved its life.

My New Boyfriend

Location: Borders
Mood: amused

So, I met a guy today....Kinda. I’m definitely weird. First I’ll tell you the whole story, and then we’ll delve into why I’m weird.

Today is my older sister’s birthday, and the Civil War (Go Beavs!). As a gift to my sister, my Mom and I decided to take her to see Bolt, a movie she’s been dying to see. When I get up I put on all of my OSU-attire, for good luck. Even though I’m not into sports at all I still feel a sense of loyalty that tells me I need to support my alma mater.

After the movie is over, I sense that my sister needs a break from my parents. They can be a bit over-whelming for her at times. On my mom’s suggestion, I take Sis to Borders to pick up a a new planner. I was also seeking out the next book for me to read. This is a difficult task for me because I have no one specific genre or author that I adhere to. In fact I love and hate books within each category. So, picking a book out can be an entire day long process for me.

We walk into the bookstore, and are immediately drawn to a table labeled “Borders Suggests.” As I am pursuing the books, a young man in a Sony shirt approaches us and asks if we have a few minutes to spare. Hesitantly, and without looking up, I say “yes.” He then asks if I go to college.

At this point I think to myself “that’s a weird way to start your sales pitch.” Then I realize my attire and say, in a teasing manner, “No, I just graduated...did my shirt tip you off?” This is when I looked up at him for the first time and realized how attractive he was. I was really confused because the look on his face was one of surprise that I was wearing a shirt at all. He then flashed a look down at my chest, and I flushed. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I had just MADE this cute guy look at my boobs. He then chatted with me briefly about whether or not I was planning on watching the game. It was then that it occurred to me that he originally had not noticed my shirt, and it became increasingly strange to me that he had asked me about school. I quickly explained that I am not into sports, but that I just felt a need to support OSU today. To which he responded “oh I understand, I still have a bunch of my Indiana stuff at home that I still wear.”

Smile. Laugh. Awkward pause.
Then he asks, again, if we have a minute to spare for his pitch.

Didn’t he already ask me that? I looked up at him, and suddenly realized that I was very attracted to him. He handed me the item that I just noticed he’d been holding the entire time. It was a Sony Digital Reader, but I was too embarrassed by his cuteness to really take in anything after that. I held the thing, it was actually pretty cool, and stared at it as if my life depended on it. The only time I moved at all was when he instructed me to press a button.

This is when I realized that I had frozen under the power of his attractiveness. I quickly thought to myself, “say something! Do something so he knows you’re still there.” So I muttered some quick “oh cools” and “wows.” This wasn’t cutting it, so I said “it’s really light weight, you feel it,” and passed it to my sister. Shortly after that the conversation ended, and he handed me a card with a promotional offer on it. I ended the interaction with a silent “I love you” muttered only within my own head.

So, I try to de-blush. I follow my sister around, but am clouded by the fluster that this man has just immersed me in. I wanted to mention my mental state to my sister, but every time I looked up he was within earshot.
I excused myself to the restroom, and when I came out my sister was all alone. I walked up to her and explained that he was my new imaginary boyfriend, and that we’re secretly in love...he just hasn’t been informed yet.

At this point we’ve found my sister the world’s coolest day-planner, and have now begun the search for the perfect book for Mindy. I seem to be magnetically drawn to my new boyfriend though. My whole search for a book is based upon a 5-10 foot radius of this man. Each time I look up, he’s there...and I like it. In the back of my mind I pay attention to his sales pitch each time he delivers it, and I smile. However, I’m looking for a book and so I keep reading the backs of books I have no interest in.

At one point, my sister approaches me with a smile and giggles “are you even reading that?” This is when I realized that it looked as though I  silently following this man! I was actually reading these book covers...but now I’m not, and my sister has called attention to it. She ran away giggling. I have become increasingly aware of the fact that if I put this book down and go after her it will look as if I was just stalking him. So I stare at it for a minute. Then I pick up another book and stare at it. Finally, I find the courage to walk away from my new love.

I find my sister in the science fiction (of all places) section, giggling at me. I blush, and attempt to rise above it. All the while, I’m silently hoping that this guy will approach me and ask me to marry him, or at least to have some coffee. Sadly, it doesn’t happen.

As we get in the car home, my sister and I discuss our return to the mental state of a 13 year old girl with a crush. Turns out, he was totally into me to. I was too scared to look at him, but (and this is according to my sister who has a bias) apparently he kept looking at me throughout his pitches. All of his other pitches lasted about a minute (ours was over 5 minutes). There was no small talk with anyone else. His voice cracked when he talked to me. She also says there was "a palpable tension", and she felt like she had to give us a minute alone.

So, my friends, here is why I am weird. Well, actually there are several reasons, but I’m just going to walk you through this one. I had NO IDEA that he was hitting on me. I’m TOTALLY oblivious. I was completely confused by the fact that he would ask me about school without having noticed my shirt. I was unaware of his voice cracking (in retrospect, I noticed but didn’t think anything of it). I had thought his other pitches seemed more put-together, but figured I threw him off with my demeanor (I was friendly, and then I was frozen). And, why would he be interested in me. I’m in holey jeans, a sweatshirt, greasy hair, and wearing my glasses!

I’m also weird because of the way I behaved once I noticed he was beautiful. I was totally chatty and friendly, until I recognized his appeal. Then it was as though I shouldn’t talk to him. I had to ignore it or something. I suddenly had to stare elsewhere. Shouldn’t that be the other way around. Should I be cold and unfriendly when I don’t notice his attractiveness, and chatty and friendly once I sense his allure? It’s not how I work. I just blush, and stare away. God forbid he realize that I’m into him! That might actually spike some kind of romance in my otherwise lonely world!

A LARGE part of me wants to go back there. I want to find him and ask him to get a coffee with me, or give him my phone number, or anything. But I won’t, because I’m aware of my weirdness. I know that it wouldn’t go like that. In reality, I would approach him, smile, make some strange comment, and silently hope he confesses his secret love for me.

I may be in love with this guy. He may be my one and only. However, I will never know, because I’m a chicken. I wish there was a love fairy who would help me out here. So, if anyone reads this, and they want to. Please go find the guy and give him my number. Tell him that I love him, and that we’re meant to be together...well that might be a bit creepy. In my fantasy world, that would work.

Here’s hoping he calls me (on the phone number he doesn’t have) or shows up on my porch (to which he doesn’t know the address). I’d just like to hear him call my name (which he doesn’t know.)
I love you Borders Sony Reader Man.
;)

Living for Hope

Image found here

Location: Home
Mood: hopeful
 
I experienced something truly great last night.

In my lifetime, Americans have seen a lot of things happen. Some of them horrible, and some of them good. But last night was the first truly awesome thing that I have ever taken part in.

I am, of course, talking about the election of Illinois Senator Barack Obama to the highest office in the land.

There was no doubt in my mind that he would win the popular vote. However, having witnessed the 2000 elections, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that I was nervous for the potential of dangling chads, Governor relatives, and conspiracy at the polls.

In the beginning, with only two states, McCain was ahead, and I was nervous. Then Obama seized a lead, and I began to feel the excitement. Shortly after that, McCain picked up a few more states, and the nervousness snuck-up on me again.

Then, around 8pm (Pacific Time) ABC news announced the closing of the western pools, and the Nomination of Barack Obama. Part of me didn’t entirely believe it.  And then John McCain appeared on my screen. He delivered one of the greatest speeches. No doubt, it was one of the greatest speeches that I have ever heard, probably second only to Obama’s acceptance speech later that evening. As he ventured onto the stage, and began to speak I was enveloped by the enormity of his words. My father wisely pointed out “if his entire election had been anything like this speech he might not have lost so hugely.”

For the past week, I have actually been temping with Multnomah County Elections, and I was scheduled to go in to count ballots at 10pm. I was delaying my departure because I did not want to miss Obama’s acceptance speech. There was something in the air, and I just knew that it was going to be great.

Of course, the news cut to Obama walking on stage at the exact moment that I was putting my coat on. I quickly ran outside and tuned my radio to NPR, a station that I normally try to avoid (Talk Radio makes me car sick). As I drove into Portland, I was completely moved by the words of President Elect Obama. On a few occasions I welled up just at the significance of his words and his election.

When the speech ended, I continued to listen to NPR. This is entirely out of character for me (as I mentioned, NPR makes me car sick). I think that this was mostly because I just did not want the moment to end. Over the chatter of the news, I heard a bang and looked up to see fireworks light up the Portland Sky.

Suddenly, I realized that there was some honking and yelling. I quickly turned off my radio and learned that all the commotion was a celebration on the streets of Southwest Portland. Cars were honking their horns and people were cheering and hugging on the streets. At this moment, it really sunk in for me. I was living through one of the greatest moments in American history. I was experiencing something that people all over the nation were experiencing. The entire country was elated at the selection of the first African American president.
I reached the elections facility, and parked my car. As I walked the block and a half to the building, I passed people cheering and singing. I stood across the street from the building, and watched as people knocked on the windows giving thumbs up to the the staff inside. I crossed the street, as cars were honking and celebration filled the air. After I began to work, a band set up in the middle of Morrison blvd (the street Multnomah County Elections is located on) and began to play. It was as if all Portlanders lost their calendars and thought it was New Years Eve.

It was truly bizarre to be a part of the election at such an historic moment in time. It was especially bizarre spending the entire night/morning counting ballots when the country had clearly already come to a decision.
In any event, I have never been more proud of my fellow man. When I arrived home, at 9am, I fell fast asleep. My mind was at ease. Sure, I am anxious and hopeful, but after a night like last night I am confident that the American people have made the first step in a good direction. I am so filled with pride, and excited for what is to come.

Way to Go America, and congratulations President Barack Obama!