Child Psych Notes

March 3, 2010 - 5 Responses

So my Child Psych professor who has never before taught a college class (she teaches computer science to middle schoolers but has a psychology degree) has decided that she should allow my fellow college students to help teach our psych class. She also felt it would be helpful to provide little worksheets to help us take notes. One particular worksheet is called Pearls of Wisdom, with BIG bubbles for BIG ideas and LITTLE bubbles for LITTLE ideas.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t really take notes unless I have to. And in this class I can read the book and know everything I need to get an A on the test. So I don’t take notes. I also have a low bullshit tolerance and busy work in the form of childish worksheets qualifies as bullshit, especially in a college class. And not only a college class, but a 200 level class. This isn’t a Gen Ed, this is a specific course and is meant to be more difficult than basic PSY 101. As such, there should be no worksheets, especially for something as ridiculous as note taking. But, just for fun, I filled in the bubbles with my BIG and LITTLE ideas. Here they are.

I thought I was in college, not middle school. Just let me read the book and take my own notes.

I think your worksheets are stupid and infantile.
Stop spoon feeding the class. We’re adults and this is demeaning.

Also, why are we letting the students who clearly don’t know the material teach it? We’re here to learn! I’m not paying one grand a semester to teach a damn class.

And I’m not paying you to be lazy! Step it up a notch. I’m bored. You won’t like me when I’m bored.

Oh, and this is a psychology class, not speech. Not everyone here knows how to speak in public settings. They are ill-prepared and you are putting undue stress on them. And my eardrums.

Inserting “like” between like every other like word does not like make up for the like fact that you like can’t think of anything to like say. Like. STFU, Bitch!
IMAGINATE is NOT a word, much less a verb. And no matter how many times you say it, people will still never be able to imaginate. Why? It. Isn’t. Real! It’s your personal bastardization of imagination and imitate

Overly peppy girl. You. Yes, you, with the smiles and giggles. Stop it. You are not on the cheer squad anymore. You’re at Community College. And I will hurt you if you break into a cheer during your presentation.

Outside. After class. Imma curb stomp your ass.

To the funny guy who actually seems to know his material: I like you. Unfortunately, you are clearly a math major. I don’t like you. Also, I can’t tell if you just have an outrageous widow’s peak or are the victim of early onset male pattern baldness.

But you’re sarcastic, so it’s cool. I ❤ Sarcasm
I think this tic-tac-toe game is rigged. Damn dirty cheaters.


Thoughts On Art

February 28, 2010 - 2 Responses

For years pink was a color I shied away from. It was black or… Well, black. And it wasn’t until recently that I began branching out into different colors. Even as I type this, I’m waiting for my nails to dry. What color are they? Pink. Not slightly lighter than red, or white with a little bit of a blush to it. I mean bright, obnoxiously peppy hot pink. Yeah… If the me from high school saw this I think she might just drop dead.

So why the change? You know, I’m still not entirely sure. But I think it has to do a lot with a song and the project that this song fueled.

In my senior year of high school I was taking Art II. I should have been in Art IV, but I was a terrible student. Anyway, my academic shortcomings aside, I discovered that I thrived in artistic environments. Literature, art, poetry… Anything that gave me an outlet was something that I picked up with ease. Now, that isn’t to say I was great at it, but I enjoyed it and there was a certain amount of raw talent there. I think that had I worked at it, I probably could have been a much better artist than I am now. Unfortunately time is a precious commodity that I seem to be running out of. Damn college classes and your ridiculous workloads.

But it’s amazing how art can have a healing affect. It was like every layer of acrylic paint I laid down served as a bandage on the still bleeding part of my soul that I’d hidden away for years. High school was hard for me, for many reasons, and there weren’t many places that I felt safe or comfortable expressing emotions. But I can remember listening to Grey Street by Dave Matthew’s Band and crying in my little corner of the art room while I worked on my painting. I would skip classes or stay late after school and my teacher never questioned me. I think he knew I needed this and when I’d finished it was as if I had mapped out an image of myself on the canvas and I was amazed to see that I wasn’t black. I was purple and orange, red and yellow. And pink.

Since I finished this painting, I’ve taken a college drawing class that introduced me to several new mediums, including charcoal and pen and ink. Because I was always a smudger when it came to shading with pencil (I’d use my finger to manipulate excess graphite on the page instead of being anal and meticulously building up small layers of graphite with the pencil and only the pencil) charcoal was a great! Pen and ink were fun, though I was only given a limited time to play with it before I was told to do a self portrait.

Of course, my teacher didn’t specify whether or not my self portrait had to be physical or if it could be more interpretive… Hehehe… Guess who didn’t actually draw them-self? But if you want a peek inside of my head, this is is. My book-worm, mythology loving, warped sense of reality is all here, as well as a few quotes from a book that I dearly love.


It’s been a while since I’ve worked on an art project, but maybe that’s because I don’t tend to draw without being put under pressure to do so. Maybe it’s because I’ve been funneling all of my energies towards writing… I’m not sure. But I kind of miss it. I mean, I still have all of the materials that I need. I’m just missing the drive.


February 25, 2010 - 3 Responses

It’s been so long since I felt the warmth of sunlight on my skin… I almost forgot what it felt like. But that’s California for ya. While everything is burried under snow and slush in Illinois, green creeps over the California ground. The sky is blue and for a little while I was able to just relax in the back of a car with the sun on my face and things seemed right.

I’m out here for a short five days and in that time I;m attending my grandfather’s memorial and I have four chapters I need to read in Child Psych as well as work on a group project long distance, I have two chapters over Hinduism and Buddhism I need to read for World Religions, I need to keep up on my math classes and prepare for a quiz, and I need to do my Spanish homework. I doubt I’ll get around to reading my supplemental material for World Religions. But whatever homework I get done, I want to do outside under the sunlight. Maybe it will make the work load seem lighter.


February 18, 2010 - 2 Responses

This morning I woke up to my brother pushing a phone into my face. It was my mother, calling from California. She’s been there for around 8 months or so, and has come back home to Illinois for 3 weeks in that time. Her parents live out there and her father has been very ill this past year. The heart failure is taking it’s toll, along with dementia and diabetes and simple old age. We knew he was getting worse, which is why I went to visit my grandparents over Thanksgiving. I’m glad I did because this morning around 2 A.M. Pacific time, my grandfather passed away. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get on for a while. If I take an extended break, you all know why.

Happy VD (sorry you got herpes)

February 14, 2010 - 2 Responses

As we all know, it’s time for that shallow, commercialized day of pseudo affection where we apologize for our neglect with flowers and sweeten our soured love with heart shaped boxes of chocolate. And it will work, for the next two weeks. But right after that we’ll go back to hating each other and this relationship that we’re trapped in, but complacency keeps us here. After all, despising the one you’re with is better than being alone, right? Right.

So while I spend Valentine’s Day with a girlfriend of mine (I’m single yet again and her boyfriend is in Guam with the Navy) the rest of the world is macking on each other in overly public places. No one really wants to see how big of a hickey you can leave on your loved one’s neck and please, PLEASE tell me that you’re looking for the car keys in his pocket and not doing what I think you’re doing. WE HAVE BEDROOMS FOR THAT! Or at least a car with tinted windows. But I’m trying to enjoy my pasta and because of you I just really can’t eat alfredo sauce right now. Thanks. Way to ruin all that is good in my life.

In other news, I’m working on a new poem. I can’t say much about what it will be like or when it will be finished, but it’s something that’s been a long time coming and it just might be the final stitch in an old wound of mine. In the meantime, check out a dude called Brother Ali from the Rhymesayers. A couple of his songs that really touched me are found below.