Annonymity. Angry students don't matter, they have no way of exacting revenge.
Students have no way of knowing just how much I swear at them.
Putting on a facade of the "calm, happy-to-help tutor" is exceptionally easy, given the only communication we have is using the written word.
Similarly, students cannot feel my rage at their incompetence.
They also cannot feel my joy at their acheivements.
The nuaunces of the english language are, at times, difficult to convey without tone and expression.
The best part, is they cannot see me cry, if I'm having one of those days. Where every session teeters between regular emotions and extreme emotions. Where I feel ashamed at my inability to vocally keep my cool and just get on with it in silence. Where I feel like it's a failure on my part if they don't understand after several attempts at working through things. Where I inevitably just feel sad at every turn.
I can keep the blind open and have the sunshine stream in. Or close the blind when the sun is too hot.
I can tutor in whatever clothes I feel like wearing.
I can eat whenever I feel like.
If it's a particularly dead time, I can play the PS3. Gaming ftw!
Monday 27 February 2012
Thursday 23 February 2012
Disappointment
A revelation occurred yesterday.
I’ve recently been operating based on the belief that my dips into depression
have definite triggers. That one incident is enough to make the bottom fall out
of my stomach, and that all I need to do is work on being mindful of my
thoughts and feelings and reinforce the notion that I’m allowed to get things
wrong. It’s nice to know that I can falter, I can make mistakes and the walls
won’t come a-tumbling down.
Dramz
Are you following the the leadership "spill" on Twitter? Neither am I! I'm keeping thanks to the hacks I know on facebook.
Do you have any fucks left to give about the University of Sydney cutting funding to the University of Sydney Union, maybe promising to send some of the SSAF their way (if they feel like it), and just generally screwing all of their staff? I gotta say, I'm scraping the bottom of my barrel of fucks. Luckily, I have more barrels in the cellar. Just not enough to care about searching for links to post.
These are the two major issues happening in my general life sphere right now. They are considerably greater than students in year 12 who can't add fractions, but I have to interact with the students (albeit online) on a day-to-day basis, so they tend to annoy me more.
I have no direct influence over the leadership spill, so I'll wait until the next election. Shocking as it seems, I don't have the power to oust most of the University Senate, so there's very little I can do about staff cuts and USU funding. These things are happening, and it's all very upsetting, but they're happening. I feel I'm doing what I can, which is very little.
So yes, it's weird and it's awful and it's awkward and we might have heard enough about it and maybe we need a break from it but screw it. We'll never stop being angry.
Do you have any fucks left to give about the University of Sydney cutting funding to the University of Sydney Union, maybe promising to send some of the SSAF their way (if they feel like it), and just generally screwing all of their staff? I gotta say, I'm scraping the bottom of my barrel of fucks. Luckily, I have more barrels in the cellar. Just not enough to care about searching for links to post.
These are the two major issues happening in my general life sphere right now. They are considerably greater than students in year 12 who can't add fractions, but I have to interact with the students (albeit online) on a day-to-day basis, so they tend to annoy me more.
I have no direct influence over the leadership spill, so I'll wait until the next election. Shocking as it seems, I don't have the power to oust most of the University Senate, so there's very little I can do about staff cuts and USU funding. These things are happening, and it's all very upsetting, but they're happening. I feel I'm doing what I can, which is very little.
So yes, it's weird and it's awful and it's awkward and we might have heard enough about it and maybe we need a break from it but screw it. We'll never stop being angry.
Wednesday 15 February 2012
Belated Happy Something
Yesterday was that glorious feast day of monogamous, mostly-heteronormative love, Valentine's Day. Nicky got me this picture and a love fern:
We will forever rejoice in the love that our love fern provides us, and the tasty, tasty basil. That is, until the love fern dies. Then I suppose we have to destroy the universe.
We will forever rejoice in the love that our love fern provides us, and the tasty, tasty basil. That is, until the love fern dies. Then I suppose we have to destroy the universe.
The team announces another member
This is going around facebook and places today, so it's probably old news already. People over here in Oz are excited about comic actress Magda Szubanski coming out as gay on national television. For those not in the know, the panel show she appeared on is Channel 10's "The Project", a continuation of the highly successful "7pm Project", but in a different timeslot. It features regular pannelists and a variety of local and international guests, and takes a stab at critically and, at times, humorously dissecting the day's news. The allure of the show is as much its light-heartedness as its deviation from what's in the headlines of the actual news programs. Sometimes it works and sometimes it's woeful, as is the nature of any panel show.
Admittedly, I haven't watched the show in almost a year. The perks of only hooking your tv up to a PS3 include avoiding commercial television and all of its, well, commercials. The only reason I know of this clip was because a friend of mine linked to it on facebook.
First off, I'd like to applaud Magda's courage. Coming out is difficult and finding the right words to say to one person is hard enough, let alone however many people have seen this clip. She also totally kicks arse here. Specifically, Steve Price's arse. Steve didn't have much to say throughout the interview, but at a certain point he did pipe up and ask a question. First, he acknowledged that this was not the time nor place to really get into the "heavy" side of the political debate. He then stomped all over that and did it anyway. Something about churches being forced to gay-marry people, I fell asleep to avoid going into a rage. Magda followed Steve's earlier advice and skillfully brought to subject round to people having the face their prejudice.
The best part of the interview was Magda's assertion that if there were a cure for teh gayz, she, "would not take it."
Admittedly, I haven't watched the show in almost a year. The perks of only hooking your tv up to a PS3 include avoiding commercial television and all of its, well, commercials. The only reason I know of this clip was because a friend of mine linked to it on facebook.
First off, I'd like to applaud Magda's courage. Coming out is difficult and finding the right words to say to one person is hard enough, let alone however many people have seen this clip. She also totally kicks arse here. Specifically, Steve Price's arse. Steve didn't have much to say throughout the interview, but at a certain point he did pipe up and ask a question. First, he acknowledged that this was not the time nor place to really get into the "heavy" side of the political debate. He then stomped all over that and did it anyway. Something about churches being forced to gay-marry people, I fell asleep to avoid going into a rage. Magda followed Steve's earlier advice and skillfully brought to subject round to people having the face their prejudice.
The best part of the interview was Magda's assertion that if there were a cure for teh gayz, she, "would not take it."
Monday 13 February 2012
Two beans, or not two beans? That is indigestion!*
Things invariably come down to one question when I'm feeling low: do I eat?
I get hungry and then wonder if it's a good idea to eat something. Aside from the effort required to procure food, there's always the niggling sensation in the back of my mind that it's not a good idea. I'm perfectly capable of eating mindlessly, and have often found myself on the other side of a bag of chips regretting everything past the first few mouthfuls. As difficult as it was to get up and get food, it's just as difficult to put it down and wipe my hands clean. So you can imagine that adding the shame of mindless eating to a low point, or even a full-blown deppressive I-don't-want-to-get-out-of-bed day, might not be a good idea.
The obvious solution is to exercise portion control. I only usually eat this much, so I will only eat this much. But when my rational mind has already given way to thoughts such as, "I could eat something, or I could keep sitting here doing nothing," that plan doesn't always get put into action. Sometimes it's easy. I feel like eating a biscuit, so I will get one biscuit and that's it. I use my inertia against myself. "Ugh, I've already gone and gotten one biscuit, I can't be bothered getting up and going all the way into the kitchen for another." That usually works. Other times it's not so easy, and I just keep adding things because I "feel like" I want them.
Which leads to the next problem. If I go over all of that in my mind, I'm likely to consider that the safest option is to not eat at all. Which is just as bad, because then I'm not eating. At which point I'm even hungrier, but I don't want to eat something because I'm even more likely to let go my rational mind and binge. So I don't eat. And then we fall into a spiral of hunger.
Dilemmas!
The best thing I can do in these situations is to throw myself into rational autopilot. If I'm able to manage it, I can ensure that I eat only what I need to, that I don't wait to go to the bathroom until I can barely stand, that I make it to class (and take notes), not get run over while crossing the street, and not remember a single thing that happened. Which, I suppose, is the best I can hope for on those days.
*Title inspiration: Babbage, from Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego for PC; my favourite quote of the game
I get hungry and then wonder if it's a good idea to eat something. Aside from the effort required to procure food, there's always the niggling sensation in the back of my mind that it's not a good idea. I'm perfectly capable of eating mindlessly, and have often found myself on the other side of a bag of chips regretting everything past the first few mouthfuls. As difficult as it was to get up and get food, it's just as difficult to put it down and wipe my hands clean. So you can imagine that adding the shame of mindless eating to a low point, or even a full-blown deppressive I-don't-want-to-get-out-of-bed day, might not be a good idea.
The obvious solution is to exercise portion control. I only usually eat this much, so I will only eat this much. But when my rational mind has already given way to thoughts such as, "I could eat something, or I could keep sitting here doing nothing," that plan doesn't always get put into action. Sometimes it's easy. I feel like eating a biscuit, so I will get one biscuit and that's it. I use my inertia against myself. "Ugh, I've already gone and gotten one biscuit, I can't be bothered getting up and going all the way into the kitchen for another." That usually works. Other times it's not so easy, and I just keep adding things because I "feel like" I want them.
Which leads to the next problem. If I go over all of that in my mind, I'm likely to consider that the safest option is to not eat at all. Which is just as bad, because then I'm not eating. At which point I'm even hungrier, but I don't want to eat something because I'm even more likely to let go my rational mind and binge. So I don't eat. And then we fall into a spiral of hunger.
Dilemmas!
The best thing I can do in these situations is to throw myself into rational autopilot. If I'm able to manage it, I can ensure that I eat only what I need to, that I don't wait to go to the bathroom until I can barely stand, that I make it to class (and take notes), not get run over while crossing the street, and not remember a single thing that happened. Which, I suppose, is the best I can hope for on those days.
*Title inspiration: Babbage, from Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego for PC; my favourite quote of the game
Sunday 12 February 2012
The inconvenience of being a decent person
So I've been neglecting the blog recently, but something happened last night to spur me into posting, mostly because it's a really galling example of the extent to which people manage to convince themselves that they're so damn important.
Sara and I had gotten on a bus in search of dessert, part way along the trip this really distraught woman jumps on the bus telling the bus driver that she had left her bag on a previous bus. We were sitting about three quarters of the way down the back of the bus and I pick this all up in the space of about 10 seconds. I wasn't initially paying that much attention, she was quite loud, it was reasonably difficult to miss. So the bus driver, apparently being the decent sort, was attempting, I believe, to get in contact with someone back at base, trying to find this woman some help. She didn't appear to have a phone, keys or anything on her, it was all gone with the bag. I imagine most people would only go up to a bus driver asking for help like that if they really didn't have anything at all.
Anyway, cut to about 5-6 minutes later when the bus is still in the same place, woman still distraught and the bus driver is still trying to help. A bunch of strangers sitting right near us start bitching about the fact that the bus isn't moving. I, too, was a bit annoyed at the hold up, but what followed next more than shoved me to the side of the distraught woman and the bus driver. The whining got louder and louder and they started making suggestions anyone with mild observation skills would realise were useless. "She should file a report with the police" Uhuh, yep, definitely, because she totally has a way to contact the police when it appears she has no phone. Never mind that lost bags on buses have nothing to do with the police, it's a Sydney Buses matter. Well done, you're a fuckwit. "She should ring the police and get a lift home". Ignoring the lack of phone this time, let's consider the fact that she doesn't appear to have keys. What's she going to do when she gets there? Sleep on the doorstep along with the 10 year old boy who was with her? Seriously? You win the douchebag award, it comes with a free nozzle.
Then this charming group of strangers, united by the intense agony of sitting in a clean, comfortable air-conditioned bus start yelling up the front trying to find out what was wrong. What was wrong here was their inability to not behave like petulant children and fucking wait. They start whinging about how they should just get off the bus and get on another one, I (and probably quite a few other people) silently hope they do, to get some peace and quiet back. They half get up like they're making a stand or some shit, talk about oppression. One of them whinges about the bus not going anywhere and them having places to be, "then get off and walk" I shoot back. "I paid money," was the feeble reply. Because I'm sure you've made nothing but sound investments in your life and this bus trip was going to break the bank.
Anyway, a whole 12 minutes later, after much posturing and whining, the bus finally gets going. But not before the jerks finally work out that the woman left her bag on another bus and start implying that it must be filled with drugs. Stay classy, jerks. The jerks applaud, because you know they have such important places to be that helping this woman who really needed it was out of the question. I'm not a particularly empathetic person, I was irritated by the delay until I saw the reaction of these entitled pricks. The delay would have been much more pleasant if they'd just shut the fuck up instead of pretending like they were genuinely hard done by.
Sara and I finally made it to our destination, so we got off the bus, and I called a "thanks" to the bus driver, as much to thank him for his helping the woman as it was to piss off any jerks that were apparently doing it tough.
We were walking to the ATM when we passed two of the jerks, one of which had complained about "having places to be" considering what they were going to have for dinner. They had literally gotten off the bus, walked off in one direction, since changed their minds and turned around and still had no specific destination in mind. This is "having places to be". Because it wouldn't have been remotely possible for them to spend that agonising 12 minutes discussing what they might like to have for dinner, no they had to spend it whining.
I swear, this sort of stupidity and pack mentality is what starts wars. They refused to empathise, they had no genuine interest in knowing what was actually happening and they made things up about her which apparently made it okay to behave as though she was less than any of us and therefore not worthy of help. Occasionally I try to think better of the human race, and then you see shit like this, people all too willing to stomp all over others because of a sense of entitlement. If nothing else, I certainly learnt something valuable, and all in the space of 12 minutes.
Sara and I had gotten on a bus in search of dessert, part way along the trip this really distraught woman jumps on the bus telling the bus driver that she had left her bag on a previous bus. We were sitting about three quarters of the way down the back of the bus and I pick this all up in the space of about 10 seconds. I wasn't initially paying that much attention, she was quite loud, it was reasonably difficult to miss. So the bus driver, apparently being the decent sort, was attempting, I believe, to get in contact with someone back at base, trying to find this woman some help. She didn't appear to have a phone, keys or anything on her, it was all gone with the bag. I imagine most people would only go up to a bus driver asking for help like that if they really didn't have anything at all.
Anyway, cut to about 5-6 minutes later when the bus is still in the same place, woman still distraught and the bus driver is still trying to help. A bunch of strangers sitting right near us start bitching about the fact that the bus isn't moving. I, too, was a bit annoyed at the hold up, but what followed next more than shoved me to the side of the distraught woman and the bus driver. The whining got louder and louder and they started making suggestions anyone with mild observation skills would realise were useless. "She should file a report with the police" Uhuh, yep, definitely, because she totally has a way to contact the police when it appears she has no phone. Never mind that lost bags on buses have nothing to do with the police, it's a Sydney Buses matter. Well done, you're a fuckwit. "She should ring the police and get a lift home". Ignoring the lack of phone this time, let's consider the fact that she doesn't appear to have keys. What's she going to do when she gets there? Sleep on the doorstep along with the 10 year old boy who was with her? Seriously? You win the douchebag award, it comes with a free nozzle.
Then this charming group of strangers, united by the intense agony of sitting in a clean, comfortable air-conditioned bus start yelling up the front trying to find out what was wrong. What was wrong here was their inability to not behave like petulant children and fucking wait. They start whinging about how they should just get off the bus and get on another one, I (and probably quite a few other people) silently hope they do, to get some peace and quiet back. They half get up like they're making a stand or some shit, talk about oppression. One of them whinges about the bus not going anywhere and them having places to be, "then get off and walk" I shoot back. "I paid money," was the feeble reply. Because I'm sure you've made nothing but sound investments in your life and this bus trip was going to break the bank.
Anyway, a whole 12 minutes later, after much posturing and whining, the bus finally gets going. But not before the jerks finally work out that the woman left her bag on another bus and start implying that it must be filled with drugs. Stay classy, jerks. The jerks applaud, because you know they have such important places to be that helping this woman who really needed it was out of the question. I'm not a particularly empathetic person, I was irritated by the delay until I saw the reaction of these entitled pricks. The delay would have been much more pleasant if they'd just shut the fuck up instead of pretending like they were genuinely hard done by.
Sara and I finally made it to our destination, so we got off the bus, and I called a "thanks" to the bus driver, as much to thank him for his helping the woman as it was to piss off any jerks that were apparently doing it tough.
We were walking to the ATM when we passed two of the jerks, one of which had complained about "having places to be" considering what they were going to have for dinner. They had literally gotten off the bus, walked off in one direction, since changed their minds and turned around and still had no specific destination in mind. This is "having places to be". Because it wouldn't have been remotely possible for them to spend that agonising 12 minutes discussing what they might like to have for dinner, no they had to spend it whining.
I swear, this sort of stupidity and pack mentality is what starts wars. They refused to empathise, they had no genuine interest in knowing what was actually happening and they made things up about her which apparently made it okay to behave as though she was less than any of us and therefore not worthy of help. Occasionally I try to think better of the human race, and then you see shit like this, people all too willing to stomp all over others because of a sense of entitlement. If nothing else, I certainly learnt something valuable, and all in the space of 12 minutes.
Saturday 11 February 2012
Deli Adventures
Today I present a cultural study. Admittedly, I am a character in this story, so there's only so much I can read into it. Bias noted!
I visited my parents today. Nicky and I needed to step out of each other's pockets for a moment so I took the opportunity to get up really early (read: 10am) and hop a train to the south-west. Mum was her usual brilliant self, and took me to a deli to stock up on good things
While at the deli, Mum and I bumped into the mother of a guy I went to school (primary and high school) with, let's call her Mrs Z. Pleasantries were exchanged, smalltalk was made. My mother asked after her two sons (the second had gone to school with my brother). It was then I discovered what one of my old classmates had been up to recently. He'd moved in with his girlfriend almost two years ago, and within two months, she was pregnant. Their son is currently six months old and, by all accounts, he is a great father. From all I remember of him, I'd imagine the man does make a good father.
After the obligatory viewing of baby photos, Mrs Z launched into a story about her son and his girlfriend going to see the local priest to set up their son's baptism (get 'em young). The priest had asked when my old classmate was going to marry his girlfriend. He mentioned financial barriers and was quickly rebuffed, something about love, the point being that you don't need to have a big celebration and why don't you just get married already?
It was at this point that I dearly wanted to interject with a joke about same-sex marriage and how, if Nicky and I could get married, we probably wouldn't want to throw buttloads of money away at our wedding. Picnic on a beach is my vote. Alas, the conversation moved on without an opening for me. Not to worry though! The baby grabbed focus again.
It was at this point that I did get to interject, apologising to Mum and saying that Nicky and I are aiming to have pets, and that it would be infinitely more difficult for us to have children.
Score for me! I got my brief moment of casual coming out laced with smiling snark at the patriarchy/haters!
Honourable mention goes to this moment in the conversation:
Mrs Z: So, did you move in with a bunch of girlfriends?
Me: No, just one girlfriend.
I am so witty.
I visited my parents today. Nicky and I needed to step out of each other's pockets for a moment so I took the opportunity to get up really early (read: 10am) and hop a train to the south-west. Mum was her usual brilliant self, and took me to a deli to stock up on good things
While at the deli, Mum and I bumped into the mother of a guy I went to school (primary and high school) with, let's call her Mrs Z. Pleasantries were exchanged, smalltalk was made. My mother asked after her two sons (the second had gone to school with my brother). It was then I discovered what one of my old classmates had been up to recently. He'd moved in with his girlfriend almost two years ago, and within two months, she was pregnant. Their son is currently six months old and, by all accounts, he is a great father. From all I remember of him, I'd imagine the man does make a good father.
After the obligatory viewing of baby photos, Mrs Z launched into a story about her son and his girlfriend going to see the local priest to set up their son's baptism (get 'em young). The priest had asked when my old classmate was going to marry his girlfriend. He mentioned financial barriers and was quickly rebuffed, something about love, the point being that you don't need to have a big celebration and why don't you just get married already?
It was at this point that I dearly wanted to interject with a joke about same-sex marriage and how, if Nicky and I could get married, we probably wouldn't want to throw buttloads of money away at our wedding. Picnic on a beach is my vote. Alas, the conversation moved on without an opening for me. Not to worry though! The baby grabbed focus again.
It was at this point that I did get to interject, apologising to Mum and saying that Nicky and I are aiming to have pets, and that it would be infinitely more difficult for us to have children.
Score for me! I got my brief moment of casual coming out laced with smiling snark at the patriarchy/haters!
Honourable mention goes to this moment in the conversation:
Mrs Z: So, did you move in with a bunch of girlfriends?
Me: No, just one girlfriend.
I am so witty.
Sunday 5 February 2012
Surfing Depression
I had planned on blogging about an article, or some cute animals or something, before I got to the next one of these. Alas, the world, it has other plans for me.
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