I know my boss well. Honest, blatant self-depreciation was commended. It was better than she expected. Our meeting mostly consisted of me sitting there with my mouth shut and her going back over problems that I need to correct. The conclusion was that she wants to be friends, that she won't hold a grudge if I improve. Which in my mind, equates to "I will still write you a good recommendation as if this didn't happen".
I would only whisper to the unlistening internet. I'm actually kind of disappointed that I don't get to go to Ohio and work with autistic kids. But this is the result that my advisors would have pushed me towards, and so it's what I'm going to stick with.
The ball is in my court. Now it's time for me get my act together, despite the fact that even this morning the dogs were barking at 8 and the workmen were buzz-sawing until I left. Despite that my mother calls me angry and takes out anger on me that probably has nothing to do with me.
She is willing to let me have my vacation. I just have to be clear about what I intend. I need to send an email before our morning meeting with an itinerary of things we should go over. But that's step 1 to finishing this project with a rainbow bang instead of a muddy fizzle, and to getting the recommendation that complements two years of dedication to a research lab.
If that doesn't show a medical school that I've got sticktoitiveness, I don't know what will. I've certainly shown myself that I am willing to go through a lot, at least so far as superiors are concerned. I need to spend more time sleeping on the ground before I can really be a MSF contender.
Are you proud of me?
Friday, May 25, 2012
My Actual Self-Depricating Analysis (or, "Why I'm a Crappy Employee")
In my self-examination, I have gone over many instances of transgression, but I intend to give a concise analysis of the root problems.
The key problem I have, that seems to lead to all others, is that I do not ask questions. When I run into a problem, I try to fix it myself, rather than asking for help. Often this leads to the problem persisting much longer than it needs to, but I am afraid to ask because I (perhaps incorrectly) believe that I am expected to handle some problems on my own, that certain issues are too insignificant to bother you with.
At times I have tried to take initiative and improvise in order to make the experimental process more efficient. To be honest, I foolishly thought that you would be impressed by my initiative. Perhaps because I am still relatively new to the procedures of research, I did not realize at the time that these were things I should have consulted with you about before moving forward. As a result, I have made deviations from the experimental procedure and possibly compromised the results. This could have been easily avoided if I had brought up the experimental issues and my proposed solutions to you, rather than forging ahead trusting solely in my own judgment.
Compounded with this, I am not 100% acquainted with the experimental procedure, as I should be. While I have an operating knowledge of how to conduct a call-back test or perform a surgery, it is my job to review the procedures and make sure that I am adhering to the time allotments between tests, etc., which I have not done sufficiently and thus have put the experiment in jeopardy.
As a result of these egregious deviations from good lab behavior--asking questions, consulting my superiors, and maintaining my familiarity with the procedures--I have more and more often received chastisement in meetings. Your frustration is well-founded, however it makes me even more nervous about asking questions that might be received as frivolous, and thus responded to with exasperation. This feeds back into the problem of not asking questions when I run into trouble, resulting in more mistakes and more chastisement. Because I expect chastisement, I have avoided meetings, which of course means that you are more angry when we finally do meet, and in the meantime I have not asked the necessary questions or made any progress updates.
Another key problem that cannot be fixed by better communication is a simple lack of adaptation, or for lack of a better term, an attention deficit. I have gotten so focused on the procedure during surgeries that I do not check the bird's vitals; I get caught up in extracting the brain and cleaning up that part of the process that I forget to turn off the perfusion pump, even though the whole reason I left it on was to clean the tube of formaline! As I write this, I realize that I should have asked whether cleaning the tube with water is necessary at all; it's things like this where I make assumptions and it just doesn't occur to me to ask. Even though I've made the same mistakes multiple times, I have had extreme difficulty in training myself to correct them. Even something as simple as formatting an excel sheet, I have been told multiple times, and I realize this fully. I want to express that I am truly ashamed at my inability to adapt and correct my mistakes. It is something that I continue to actively struggle with, but of course if I'm successful, that only means that I've met the minimum expectation.
I am dedicated to this project, and to this lab. It has been my hope and continues to be that I will follow this project through to its conclusion, and use it as the basis of my honors thesis. I am also terribly sorry for the personal distress I have caused you; it was never my intention and I sincerely hope that we can rebuild a positive repertoire. It would seem a great waste of two years investment to part on an ill note.
I do believe that a large contribution to my ill performance has been utter exhaustion, or "burn-out". I had hoped that I could spend a few weeks immediately following the end of the semester recuperating, so long as the birds were cared for; I realize now that the mature and responsible thing to do would have been to inform you of my intention, and to schedule a meeting for when I would get back to work full time.
I ask you to let me continue through the summer. I believe that with sufficient rest and no other obligations, I will be able to make progress not only on this project, but in my personal development as it regards being a responsible and communicative member of this research lab.
The key problem I have, that seems to lead to all others, is that I do not ask questions. When I run into a problem, I try to fix it myself, rather than asking for help. Often this leads to the problem persisting much longer than it needs to, but I am afraid to ask because I (perhaps incorrectly) believe that I am expected to handle some problems on my own, that certain issues are too insignificant to bother you with.
At times I have tried to take initiative and improvise in order to make the experimental process more efficient. To be honest, I foolishly thought that you would be impressed by my initiative. Perhaps because I am still relatively new to the procedures of research, I did not realize at the time that these were things I should have consulted with you about before moving forward. As a result, I have made deviations from the experimental procedure and possibly compromised the results. This could have been easily avoided if I had brought up the experimental issues and my proposed solutions to you, rather than forging ahead trusting solely in my own judgment.
Compounded with this, I am not 100% acquainted with the experimental procedure, as I should be. While I have an operating knowledge of how to conduct a call-back test or perform a surgery, it is my job to review the procedures and make sure that I am adhering to the time allotments between tests, etc., which I have not done sufficiently and thus have put the experiment in jeopardy.
As a result of these egregious deviations from good lab behavior--asking questions, consulting my superiors, and maintaining my familiarity with the procedures--I have more and more often received chastisement in meetings. Your frustration is well-founded, however it makes me even more nervous about asking questions that might be received as frivolous, and thus responded to with exasperation. This feeds back into the problem of not asking questions when I run into trouble, resulting in more mistakes and more chastisement. Because I expect chastisement, I have avoided meetings, which of course means that you are more angry when we finally do meet, and in the meantime I have not asked the necessary questions or made any progress updates.
Another key problem that cannot be fixed by better communication is a simple lack of adaptation, or for lack of a better term, an attention deficit. I have gotten so focused on the procedure during surgeries that I do not check the bird's vitals; I get caught up in extracting the brain and cleaning up that part of the process that I forget to turn off the perfusion pump, even though the whole reason I left it on was to clean the tube of formaline! As I write this, I realize that I should have asked whether cleaning the tube with water is necessary at all; it's things like this where I make assumptions and it just doesn't occur to me to ask. Even though I've made the same mistakes multiple times, I have had extreme difficulty in training myself to correct them. Even something as simple as formatting an excel sheet, I have been told multiple times, and I realize this fully. I want to express that I am truly ashamed at my inability to adapt and correct my mistakes. It is something that I continue to actively struggle with, but of course if I'm successful, that only means that I've met the minimum expectation.
I am dedicated to this project, and to this lab. It has been my hope and continues to be that I will follow this project through to its conclusion, and use it as the basis of my honors thesis. I am also terribly sorry for the personal distress I have caused you; it was never my intention and I sincerely hope that we can rebuild a positive repertoire. It would seem a great waste of two years investment to part on an ill note.
I do believe that a large contribution to my ill performance has been utter exhaustion, or "burn-out". I had hoped that I could spend a few weeks immediately following the end of the semester recuperating, so long as the birds were cared for; I realize now that the mature and responsible thing to do would have been to inform you of my intention, and to schedule a meeting for when I would get back to work full time.
I ask you to let me continue through the summer. I believe that with sufficient rest and no other obligations, I will be able to make progress not only on this project, but in my personal development as it regards being a responsible and communicative member of this research lab.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Another Dream
As I've been considering leaving the state, I keep thinking that I won't be able to see the man who has consumed my thoughts for many months now. I think to myself, before I leave, I should call him up, ask him to lunch, give him the gift that's sitting here on my desk.
So this morning, I had a dream. It was a rather silly dream. We were in his house, sitting on his couch, his son with the babysitter in another room. I don't remember what the conversation was, but I was kissing his hand, telling him that yes, he was special. Then he said something surprising. The semester is over, so now we can go on a date. I looked at him, asked him if he was serious. He asked me where we were going. I kissed his temple.
So we went outside his house, and there was my mom's old silver Camaro, and I had severe problems trying to drive it. In reality it is a very heavy car with a very powerful motor, not suitable for small maneuvers. It took me ten minutes in my dream just to get it turned around and out of the driveway to the street. Then, for some reason, a cop was at the window, and we were ticketed. I looked down the street and at least six other cars were lined up, also being fined. I thought to myself, this date is already going horribly. He looked bored and annoyed, just as I would be in the passenger seat of that situation. But then, I thought, lets dispel this with some royal activity. Let's go to the roller rink. I was worried how he might react to such a childish suggestion, not that he's adverse to such things but how it would reflect on me. My dream did not get that far.
A few weeks ago I watched a documentary in which the focus person was a man that reminded me so strongly of my crush, I just had to post a clip here. Yes, my secret love's soul doppelganger is a bleach-blonde reverend who makes sermons against American consumerism. And I love it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXqOlaSxv-k
So this morning, I had a dream. It was a rather silly dream. We were in his house, sitting on his couch, his son with the babysitter in another room. I don't remember what the conversation was, but I was kissing his hand, telling him that yes, he was special. Then he said something surprising. The semester is over, so now we can go on a date. I looked at him, asked him if he was serious. He asked me where we were going. I kissed his temple.
So we went outside his house, and there was my mom's old silver Camaro, and I had severe problems trying to drive it. In reality it is a very heavy car with a very powerful motor, not suitable for small maneuvers. It took me ten minutes in my dream just to get it turned around and out of the driveway to the street. Then, for some reason, a cop was at the window, and we were ticketed. I looked down the street and at least six other cars were lined up, also being fined. I thought to myself, this date is already going horribly. He looked bored and annoyed, just as I would be in the passenger seat of that situation. But then, I thought, lets dispel this with some royal activity. Let's go to the roller rink. I was worried how he might react to such a childish suggestion, not that he's adverse to such things but how it would reflect on me. My dream did not get that far.
A few weeks ago I watched a documentary in which the focus person was a man that reminded me so strongly of my crush, I just had to post a clip here. Yes, my secret love's soul doppelganger is a bleach-blonde reverend who makes sermons against American consumerism. And I love it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXqOlaSxv-k
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Difference Between My Boss and an Autistic Kid
The difference between my boss and an Autistic kid. It's an interesting thought, isn't it? Well, its one you don't expect to have until you're faced with an interesting proposition: spend the summer working with your boss, or spend the summer working with autistic kids? What would be the difference in my human interactions, and in my state of being? (my zen, as I've started to refer to it as). Would I actually have a happier summer, and if so, why?
So the difference in difficulties between my two operant options.
My boss:
actively ignores me
gets suddenly very angry and I don't understand why
gets angry when I don't pay attention to her needs, without operating knowledge of it (ie, she waits for me to figure out what she wants)
she refers to my faults as they define me as a person
Autistic kids will probably do all of these things. Key differences will be:
My boss can tell me what's wrong, articulately and at length.
My boss sits quietly and listens to me when I speak.
Autistic kids may turn and walk away from me while I'm speaking.
They may not be able to speak, to tell me what's wrong.
Autistic kids are a lot more likely to hit me, but a lot less likely to find clever ways to make me seem worthless to the universe.
But the status differences are probably the biggest, by which I mean:
I will not be in a position of direct subordination to the only person in command
I will have the opportunity to work with many different people; I will have multiple supervisors, whose JOBs they have because they can work well with very difficult human beings.
I may even be considered a superior, and be allowed to speak strongly to my subordinates.
Okay something's wrong with this fucking computer and I need to get off. Giving me a goddamn headache. urg. Wish there weren't people in my house so I could just take a nap, in a silent house, in uncompromised privacy. to listen only to the birds, not to Spanish golden oldies. I love my hispanic worker bees, have no presumptions there, but I just can't stand the style of music. Its the timbre of it. Male voices in harmony combined with an accordion is just grating.
Anyways, my only point was, I feel like I'll be treated the same whichever way I go, by a cranky 60 year old professor or a group of autistic 14 year olds. And that thought tickled me is all. I don't know which I'm going to do. I feel like that email making the spot I most wanted, right before the opportunity arose that I might need it, was a sign from God. "Here's your sign, get out of your dead-end research job and go hang out with kids whose lives you may positively impact. It's either that or try to appease a grouchy old lady, and even if you do that perfectly, there's no real upside except a slightly less cranky old lady and proof that you can do it. Proof of work ethic, or changing lives? And is one actually so much more likely to get you into medical school than the other?
I feel like I've been backed into a corner by my own drive to finish the job, but really, looking at the end goal, I have to back off and not just consider how it might effect my chances of getting into medical school, but how it will effect my philosophy as a doctor, and a person. Won't I be just like everyone I hate if I stay where I am, doing a job that doesn't really matter in order to secure a future. The me in my head is better than that, but I guess I was blinded to my parallel situation. Just because its a different color was no reason not to notice it. I'm going through the motions to secure my future. Just like I hate my mother for doing. For foregoing the opportunity to help people directly because I'm too afraid to risk what happens after that. I want my future to be about risking it in order to do whats right, so shouldn't that be what I do right now? I'm striving for something that's keeping me from fulfilling my nature. That's not right.
So, this post unlike all others actually gets found in google searches. Please, visitors, share thoughts in comments. What circumstances led you to this moment?
So the difference in difficulties between my two operant options.
My boss:
actively ignores me
gets suddenly very angry and I don't understand why
gets angry when I don't pay attention to her needs, without operating knowledge of it (ie, she waits for me to figure out what she wants)
she refers to my faults as they define me as a person
Autistic kids will probably do all of these things. Key differences will be:
My boss can tell me what's wrong, articulately and at length.
My boss sits quietly and listens to me when I speak.
Autistic kids may turn and walk away from me while I'm speaking.
They may not be able to speak, to tell me what's wrong.
Autistic kids are a lot more likely to hit me, but a lot less likely to find clever ways to make me seem worthless to the universe.
But the status differences are probably the biggest, by which I mean:
I will not be in a position of direct subordination to the only person in command
I will have the opportunity to work with many different people; I will have multiple supervisors, whose JOBs they have because they can work well with very difficult human beings.
I may even be considered a superior, and be allowed to speak strongly to my subordinates.
Okay something's wrong with this fucking computer and I need to get off. Giving me a goddamn headache. urg. Wish there weren't people in my house so I could just take a nap, in a silent house, in uncompromised privacy. to listen only to the birds, not to Spanish golden oldies. I love my hispanic worker bees, have no presumptions there, but I just can't stand the style of music. Its the timbre of it. Male voices in harmony combined with an accordion is just grating.
Anyways, my only point was, I feel like I'll be treated the same whichever way I go, by a cranky 60 year old professor or a group of autistic 14 year olds. And that thought tickled me is all. I don't know which I'm going to do. I feel like that email making the spot I most wanted, right before the opportunity arose that I might need it, was a sign from God. "Here's your sign, get out of your dead-end research job and go hang out with kids whose lives you may positively impact. It's either that or try to appease a grouchy old lady, and even if you do that perfectly, there's no real upside except a slightly less cranky old lady and proof that you can do it. Proof of work ethic, or changing lives? And is one actually so much more likely to get you into medical school than the other?
I feel like I've been backed into a corner by my own drive to finish the job, but really, looking at the end goal, I have to back off and not just consider how it might effect my chances of getting into medical school, but how it will effect my philosophy as a doctor, and a person. Won't I be just like everyone I hate if I stay where I am, doing a job that doesn't really matter in order to secure a future. The me in my head is better than that, but I guess I was blinded to my parallel situation. Just because its a different color was no reason not to notice it. I'm going through the motions to secure my future. Just like I hate my mother for doing. For foregoing the opportunity to help people directly because I'm too afraid to risk what happens after that. I want my future to be about risking it in order to do whats right, so shouldn't that be what I do right now? I'm striving for something that's keeping me from fulfilling my nature. That's not right.
So, this post unlike all others actually gets found in google searches. Please, visitors, share thoughts in comments. What circumstances led you to this moment?
Reflections on what a bad employee I am
So I've been given a directive. Go away, write down not only what we
discussed today, but everything we've discussed over the past semester.
The version that appears in this blog is going to be, understandably, very defensive, antagonistic, and not very nice. The version I send to my boss will be a very softened, edited version of what appears here.
First of all, its a little ridiculous to decide to dismiss me now, leaving the responsibilities for animal care squarely on the shoulders of a single graduate student, who really has better things to do, while the only other undergraduate is taking classes over the summer. That's not related to my value as an employee, but I do at least feed the fucking animals.
Clearly I've made this a priority. Last semester I put in 240 hours of research, including a lot of night work. I gave up some much more promising summer opportunities to stick this one out, to try to rebuild a relationship, but that's already backfired severely. To me two weeks is not a long time, especially after my life has just gotten thrown up in the air and I've had to catch the pieces as they fell back down again. My home is a wreck, my mother is demanding attention and going to the hospital when she doesn't get the right kind. I'm exhausted, I've been exhausted, I told you this. Maybe I was supposed to tell you that I meant to take the first few weeks easy, that I was more concerned with getting enough sleep than anything else.
Okay, so the key thing got you angry most recently. You left me a note, "see me". Now, I don't respond to these immediately, because you usually are making an appointment to yell at me. And guess what? That's exactly what happened! Granted, if I had responded immediately the meeting probably would have gone better. But I only learned that later. How was I supposed to know that you actually wanted to discuss the project, that you were excited to get back to work? How could I possibly know that this meeting, unlike all other meetings, might have a positive overtone?
You accuse me of being uncommunicative, while also maintaining that it is not your job to go chasing after me. So you continue to get angrier and angrier and I have no fucking clue. Basically, you give me plenty of rope to hang myself with. And the longer I wait, the taller the scaffold gets.
Note, this is not going to work by organizational principle.
Your job as a mentor. It's funny, because I've been saying for months, you're not a mentor, you're a boss. That makes it really interesting that you see yourself as a mentor. How have you mentored me? How have you helped me grow as a person? How have you guided me? It's always been my job to come to you with questions.
Going off on my own. Well, I guess this is a profession that does not value initiative. You say that I can't be a satellite, that I have to be communicative. But I'm to be the one initiating communication about everything! That's fucking exhausting!
Really, I'm just in it for the recommendation at this point. And if I can't get that, then yes, I will happily walk. I will give you my key and blow you a kiss as the screen door hits me on the way out. At least you recognize my good work from the previous year. What proof do I need to rile up to show you that that was the real me, and this me is the tired, exhausted, scared, lonely me? How can I show you that I just need some time left alone, without this "oh my god you went two weeks without emailing me, you need to pack your bags". Yes, I realize that in the office setting, that's a long fucking time. But you know, or at least you should know, that the first week at least was spent moving all of my belongings out of university housing, because, you know, the university likes to watch us scramble like an anthill in a rainstorm. We already had the conversation of "I'm burned out", so why you expected that right after the semester end, I'd be straining at the bit to get moving on this rather heavy project. I need to heal. I can't heal when I'm also working on a research project, and I certainly can't relax when you're demanding that I get out.
Thank you, honestly, for giving me fifth and sixth chances. Yes, I realize nothing has changed, but that's because nothing has changed. I was performing badly because I was exhausted. I'm still exhausted. I avoided you because you were hostile. You're still hostile. The only thing that's changed is that you can't make me cry any more. I know that my value as a person is much greater than you estimate. I know that I'm not just the person you see, and furthermore that the world is much bigger than the lab you live in. No, I'm not good at being a subordinate with a boss... like you, does that mean I'm not good at anything? Give me some time, and not just "time" but time to relax and recuperate and regain my zen. I've been gasping for breath for weeks; that doesn't count as time. That's a continuing struggle. And these past two weeks, while I've tried to relax, well, you try to relax when the dogs are barking at 8am and workmen are sanding and sawing and banging from 8 to 5 and family are getting home at 11pm and everything is covered in dust and all your belongings are still in bags and boxes because you don't want to get them covered in dust and you're mother is putting herself in the hospital as a convoluted form of guilt.
I'm tired. I just need a little more time. And I need to know when you're going to actually be supportive. I put off meeting because I've preconceived it to be a bash session.
The version that appears in this blog is going to be, understandably, very defensive, antagonistic, and not very nice. The version I send to my boss will be a very softened, edited version of what appears here.
First of all, its a little ridiculous to decide to dismiss me now, leaving the responsibilities for animal care squarely on the shoulders of a single graduate student, who really has better things to do, while the only other undergraduate is taking classes over the summer. That's not related to my value as an employee, but I do at least feed the fucking animals.
Clearly I've made this a priority. Last semester I put in 240 hours of research, including a lot of night work. I gave up some much more promising summer opportunities to stick this one out, to try to rebuild a relationship, but that's already backfired severely. To me two weeks is not a long time, especially after my life has just gotten thrown up in the air and I've had to catch the pieces as they fell back down again. My home is a wreck, my mother is demanding attention and going to the hospital when she doesn't get the right kind. I'm exhausted, I've been exhausted, I told you this. Maybe I was supposed to tell you that I meant to take the first few weeks easy, that I was more concerned with getting enough sleep than anything else.
Okay, so the key thing got you angry most recently. You left me a note, "see me". Now, I don't respond to these immediately, because you usually are making an appointment to yell at me. And guess what? That's exactly what happened! Granted, if I had responded immediately the meeting probably would have gone better. But I only learned that later. How was I supposed to know that you actually wanted to discuss the project, that you were excited to get back to work? How could I possibly know that this meeting, unlike all other meetings, might have a positive overtone?
You accuse me of being uncommunicative, while also maintaining that it is not your job to go chasing after me. So you continue to get angrier and angrier and I have no fucking clue. Basically, you give me plenty of rope to hang myself with. And the longer I wait, the taller the scaffold gets.
Note, this is not going to work by organizational principle.
Your job as a mentor. It's funny, because I've been saying for months, you're not a mentor, you're a boss. That makes it really interesting that you see yourself as a mentor. How have you mentored me? How have you helped me grow as a person? How have you guided me? It's always been my job to come to you with questions.
Going off on my own. Well, I guess this is a profession that does not value initiative. You say that I can't be a satellite, that I have to be communicative. But I'm to be the one initiating communication about everything! That's fucking exhausting!
Really, I'm just in it for the recommendation at this point. And if I can't get that, then yes, I will happily walk. I will give you my key and blow you a kiss as the screen door hits me on the way out. At least you recognize my good work from the previous year. What proof do I need to rile up to show you that that was the real me, and this me is the tired, exhausted, scared, lonely me? How can I show you that I just need some time left alone, without this "oh my god you went two weeks without emailing me, you need to pack your bags". Yes, I realize that in the office setting, that's a long fucking time. But you know, or at least you should know, that the first week at least was spent moving all of my belongings out of university housing, because, you know, the university likes to watch us scramble like an anthill in a rainstorm. We already had the conversation of "I'm burned out", so why you expected that right after the semester end, I'd be straining at the bit to get moving on this rather heavy project. I need to heal. I can't heal when I'm also working on a research project, and I certainly can't relax when you're demanding that I get out.
Thank you, honestly, for giving me fifth and sixth chances. Yes, I realize nothing has changed, but that's because nothing has changed. I was performing badly because I was exhausted. I'm still exhausted. I avoided you because you were hostile. You're still hostile. The only thing that's changed is that you can't make me cry any more. I know that my value as a person is much greater than you estimate. I know that I'm not just the person you see, and furthermore that the world is much bigger than the lab you live in. No, I'm not good at being a subordinate with a boss... like you, does that mean I'm not good at anything? Give me some time, and not just "time" but time to relax and recuperate and regain my zen. I've been gasping for breath for weeks; that doesn't count as time. That's a continuing struggle. And these past two weeks, while I've tried to relax, well, you try to relax when the dogs are barking at 8am and workmen are sanding and sawing and banging from 8 to 5 and family are getting home at 11pm and everything is covered in dust and all your belongings are still in bags and boxes because you don't want to get them covered in dust and you're mother is putting herself in the hospital as a convoluted form of guilt.
I'm tired. I just need a little more time. And I need to know when you're going to actually be supportive. I put off meeting because I've preconceived it to be a bash session.
Angry at Mom
Mom, if I make you feel half an inch tall, maybe its because what I'm saying is true? If it wasn't, then you'd just feel angry at me, for being such a brat and a liar, not actually depreciated in your self-esteem. Ohh, and you've contributed $22,000 to my education? You mean the cost of one semester at my university? You mean the amount of child support you got across approximately 2, but lets call it 3 to be generous, years out of the 8 or more that my father was writing you fat checks? And lets not forget that you sued him when you found out that he was working a second job, running his own company. Which, by the way, has been entirely funding my tuition for the entire time that you've contributed less than $1000. So don't make me laugh. Ohh yeah, and while we're at it, complaining that he got the "10 room house"; well yes, I guess if we're counting the bathrooms and the pantry. Conveniently leaving out the part where said house is in the middle of a ghetto, and you have the gall to complain that your house is small and not in Pasadena. I'm sorry, you're in fucking horse country, and spent a quarter million more on that house. You're not allowed to feel sorry for yourself by comparing yourself to him. If you wanted, you could have a 10 room house in the ghetto too, and you'd have an actual contribution to make to my education to boot.I've seen the checks written for the rent on your second house. And apparently that only covers a quarter of what it costs to run your household, including mortgage payments? So, it costs you approximately $10,000 a month to live in that house, and still you think that contributing $22,000 to my education is praiseworthy?
Let me make this perfectly clear. I am not angry that you've squandered all of your money on yourself and left the cost of my education to other family members, but principally to my father. I'm angry that you continue to try to convince me, perhaps because you've convinced yourself, that this is a praiseworthy contribution, that I should be as thankful to you as I would be towards my father. I'm angry that you continue to blame him for your measly contributions, even though its been a decade since the divorce and you now live in a house of twice the value. You can accuse him of cheating you out of the house, but if that's so, why are your living conditions so much better? Could it perhaps be, that he's put a lot more aside for me, that he's actually the supportive parent?
Could the explanation for your behavior be that, not that you were cheated, but that you're just selfish? It's fine to be selfish, your money is yours. I have no right to demand monetary support. But on the same note, you have no right to claim that you're supporting me in any insignificant manner. The rent you get from your second house in one month could pay for my apartment for four months. What you pay to run your house for a month could pay my tuition for a semester. The money is yours, but don't make me scrape for the paltry amount you set aside for me.
Let me make this perfectly clear. I am not angry that you've squandered all of your money on yourself and left the cost of my education to other family members, but principally to my father. I'm angry that you continue to try to convince me, perhaps because you've convinced yourself, that this is a praiseworthy contribution, that I should be as thankful to you as I would be towards my father. I'm angry that you continue to blame him for your measly contributions, even though its been a decade since the divorce and you now live in a house of twice the value. You can accuse him of cheating you out of the house, but if that's so, why are your living conditions so much better? Could it perhaps be, that he's put a lot more aside for me, that he's actually the supportive parent?
Could the explanation for your behavior be that, not that you were cheated, but that you're just selfish? It's fine to be selfish, your money is yours. I have no right to demand monetary support. But on the same note, you have no right to claim that you're supporting me in any insignificant manner. The rent you get from your second house in one month could pay for my apartment for four months. What you pay to run your house for a month could pay my tuition for a semester. The money is yours, but don't make me scrape for the paltry amount you set aside for me.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Role of Truth in Right: Separating Twins
Are we allowed to trick people into doing what we think is right?
What is the body of knowledge that makes one's moral compass more valid than the other's, such that it is allowable for one to circumvent the other's gut feeling?
I was having an argument with a friend about adoption. This stemmed from a recent news item that two twins, who were adopted by different families and were never informed of the other's existence, got married. It's difficult for me to fully comprehend the loneliness, shock, and anger these two must have felt. All this time they were not informed of this person who could have been their close companion, and now they've been torn away from both that source of comfort, and the companionship they thought they'd found all on their own. A double whammy of two of the most important people in your life being ripped away from you all at once. Add on top of that the stigma and self-loathing of having married and having intercourse with not just a sibling, but a twin. Its a strong person that would come out of that situation without committing suicide, let alone just wallowing in a turmoil of confusion, anger, hate, sadness.
And so the argument becomes, should the parents, at least, have been informed that their adoptive child had a twin, and left to their own devices to decide when it was a good time to tell their child? My gut answer is yes; when is hiding the truth wrong, especially when it involves something as important as family? If the parents didn't tell the children (as adults), and allow them to decide for themselves whether to go searching for this missing part of themselves or to exist with themselves peacefully as single human beings, then (pardoning some singular cases) I would be angry at the parents.
But no, says my friend, sometimes its the right thing to do to not tell adoptive parents that this baby has a sibling. Because there's a good chance that these parents only want to take one child, but will feel wrong about separating the children, and so will not adopt the child at all. If this is the universal response to twins, then neither of them will be adopted. And this is the worst possible situation, says my friend.
But, I say, if these parents feel bad about separating the children, and I see that as a valid point of view and moral motivator, then shouldn't they be allowed to make that decision? Although I personally believe that any parent who would not take twins is clearly not ready to be a parent (pretending you can plan and have control is a bad illusion), I also believe that people should be allowed to do what they think is right. Perhaps I'm biased, because I also believe that there's at least some importance to keeping siblings together. Clearly, separated twins have provided a lot of information to twin studies that allow us a better understanding of the role of genetics in human psychology, and in these studies, the twins do not seem to be emotionally stunted by not having their other half. But I don't think that should make it okay.
What is the body of knowledge that makes one's moral compass more valid than the other's, such that it is allowable for one to circumvent the other's gut feeling?
I was having an argument with a friend about adoption. This stemmed from a recent news item that two twins, who were adopted by different families and were never informed of the other's existence, got married. It's difficult for me to fully comprehend the loneliness, shock, and anger these two must have felt. All this time they were not informed of this person who could have been their close companion, and now they've been torn away from both that source of comfort, and the companionship they thought they'd found all on their own. A double whammy of two of the most important people in your life being ripped away from you all at once. Add on top of that the stigma and self-loathing of having married and having intercourse with not just a sibling, but a twin. Its a strong person that would come out of that situation without committing suicide, let alone just wallowing in a turmoil of confusion, anger, hate, sadness.
And so the argument becomes, should the parents, at least, have been informed that their adoptive child had a twin, and left to their own devices to decide when it was a good time to tell their child? My gut answer is yes; when is hiding the truth wrong, especially when it involves something as important as family? If the parents didn't tell the children (as adults), and allow them to decide for themselves whether to go searching for this missing part of themselves or to exist with themselves peacefully as single human beings, then (pardoning some singular cases) I would be angry at the parents.
But no, says my friend, sometimes its the right thing to do to not tell adoptive parents that this baby has a sibling. Because there's a good chance that these parents only want to take one child, but will feel wrong about separating the children, and so will not adopt the child at all. If this is the universal response to twins, then neither of them will be adopted. And this is the worst possible situation, says my friend.
But, I say, if these parents feel bad about separating the children, and I see that as a valid point of view and moral motivator, then shouldn't they be allowed to make that decision? Although I personally believe that any parent who would not take twins is clearly not ready to be a parent (pretending you can plan and have control is a bad illusion), I also believe that people should be allowed to do what they think is right. Perhaps I'm biased, because I also believe that there's at least some importance to keeping siblings together. Clearly, separated twins have provided a lot of information to twin studies that allow us a better understanding of the role of genetics in human psychology, and in these studies, the twins do not seem to be emotionally stunted by not having their other half. But I don't think that should make it okay.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Assigning Numbers
So I know my posts lately have been short, but... who the fuck cares? I'm the only one reading this. And blogs don't get "discovered", so I think I'm safe.
How are individuals assigned numbers? Usually when we hear "that girl's a 9", its based on appearance. But clearly that's not the only score that matters. And perhaps that's something that we can take comfort in.
Example. Depending on who's doing the assigning, and assuming that they're not terribly exaggerating, I'm anything from a 3 to a 7. But for argument's sake, let's say I'm a 6. At least, I'm usually a six. The past few months I've been a 5, simply because I haven't had much opportunity to exercise. And that score's buck naked. I simply don't dress to play up my assets, so a bystander would probably give me a four.
But that's from a purely physical standpoint. From an intellectual standpoint, I'm a solid 9, maybe up to 9.5. Note that both Leonard and Sheldon are 10's, I don't differentiate up at that level. Social abilities, 7. Kindness and empathy on a daily basis, 9. Devotion to the betterment of the Earth and humankind, solid 10.
So do I get an averaged score? Or (and I think this is more likely) do I need to closely match my mate (2 points deviation or less) in each category, across categories? No amount of pretty will be able to make up for a lack of heart or brains. But would my brain and heart be able to fall for brain and body, without heart? Probably not. Heart and body, without brain? Unlikely, but... well then it gets a little trickier.
So clearly some categories are more important to others, to different people. I score high in both intelligence and empathy. But I score higher in empathy than in intelligence. Is this the explanation for why I more strongly seek empathy than intelligence in a human companion, even though brains still far outranks physical attraction?
And still, I have a physical attraction lower limit. That may or may not be based on a self-assessment of my physical attractiveness.
Research! Must read and/or conduct research! Agh!
How are individuals assigned numbers? Usually when we hear "that girl's a 9", its based on appearance. But clearly that's not the only score that matters. And perhaps that's something that we can take comfort in.
Example. Depending on who's doing the assigning, and assuming that they're not terribly exaggerating, I'm anything from a 3 to a 7. But for argument's sake, let's say I'm a 6. At least, I'm usually a six. The past few months I've been a 5, simply because I haven't had much opportunity to exercise. And that score's buck naked. I simply don't dress to play up my assets, so a bystander would probably give me a four.
But that's from a purely physical standpoint. From an intellectual standpoint, I'm a solid 9, maybe up to 9.5. Note that both Leonard and Sheldon are 10's, I don't differentiate up at that level. Social abilities, 7. Kindness and empathy on a daily basis, 9. Devotion to the betterment of the Earth and humankind, solid 10.
So do I get an averaged score? Or (and I think this is more likely) do I need to closely match my mate (2 points deviation or less) in each category, across categories? No amount of pretty will be able to make up for a lack of heart or brains. But would my brain and heart be able to fall for brain and body, without heart? Probably not. Heart and body, without brain? Unlikely, but... well then it gets a little trickier.
So clearly some categories are more important to others, to different people. I score high in both intelligence and empathy. But I score higher in empathy than in intelligence. Is this the explanation for why I more strongly seek empathy than intelligence in a human companion, even though brains still far outranks physical attraction?
And still, I have a physical attraction lower limit. That may or may not be based on a self-assessment of my physical attractiveness.
Research! Must read and/or conduct research! Agh!
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Note to Self for Summer
0. Don't let people who have been destructive before too close to your heart, mind or body. You know your own faults and the faults of others. Do not repeat your mistakes. When you sense you're going to regret something, act on that feeling. Not because you are weak, but because you are strong.
1. When dancing around under the influence of narcotics, try to focus your play list on upbeat and inspirational stuff, like MLP. Remember, this is your time to heal and empower. Don't bring yourself down with anger and regret.
2. Remember that the best way to learn is a little bit every day. The second best way is to put it to music. Live up to the standards you set for your kids, and find the best ways to learn new stuff by trying them yourself.
3. Minimize your time spent on the couch, or in a chair. Remember, you don't live so far away from parks and mountains that you have to spend the night away to have an adventure. Dinner is optional and its okay to exercise after work.
4. Calendars are your friends.
5. Meet one new person every week. You can join a tour or sit in on an orientation session. Human connection and discovery will fulfill you. Be honest about who you are.
6. Don't put off your pet projects, and don't be afraid you'll get it wrong. The worst mistake is to not try.
1. When dancing around under the influence of narcotics, try to focus your play list on upbeat and inspirational stuff, like MLP. Remember, this is your time to heal and empower. Don't bring yourself down with anger and regret.
2. Remember that the best way to learn is a little bit every day. The second best way is to put it to music. Live up to the standards you set for your kids, and find the best ways to learn new stuff by trying them yourself.
3. Minimize your time spent on the couch, or in a chair. Remember, you don't live so far away from parks and mountains that you have to spend the night away to have an adventure. Dinner is optional and its okay to exercise after work.
4. Calendars are your friends.
5. Meet one new person every week. You can join a tour or sit in on an orientation session. Human connection and discovery will fulfill you. Be honest about who you are.
6. Don't put off your pet projects, and don't be afraid you'll get it wrong. The worst mistake is to not try.
And on the last day...
I am in love with you, and I don't regret it. I have fallen below my own standards to present myself to you, but nonetheless I can love you from afar. As I review the past months, I see into memories, I see how far we've come. It's a journey you've taken many times, with many people, but this was my first adventure of this kind. I have had to warp my brain in many strange ways, and I wouldn't have tried half so hard were it not for you. So thank you. Even if nothing comes of this, it was a fun adventure. I feel that I grew as a person, not just in knowledge base but in acceptance of the strangeness of our human constructs. And that, as paranoid as I am, there's still a lot we can get away with. I think I needed to know that.
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