Posts tagged Stupidity

Things about WTF PROFESSOR?! and other such angry outbursts

Dear Professors of the World:

Here’s a thought.  If you normally assign your class 40-100 pages of reading a week, you just miiiiiiight want to give them a heads’ up the week you decide to drop 400 pages of reading on them.

Oh, and – again, just a thought – perhaps if you explicitly tell said students NOT to read Section 10c (but read the rest of sections 3-15 (see aforenoted 400 pages)), you shouldn’t take a question on the weekly quiz WORD-FOR-WORD from the aforementioned nixed-section 10c.

Oh, and – just one more teeny tiny thing – maybe the rest of the questions from the online quizzes should be based on the actual readings, not your own Pulled-From-Your-Ass  sources.  Just since, you know, it’s nice and all when you tell us the answer to the question 85% of the class missed is on page 99, when, in reality, that page has absolutely no relevance to that topic.  (It’s cool though… not like that makes me think you completely made that question/answer up out of nowhere or anything. Really.)

But you know… don’t mistake this for passive aggressive bitching, or anything. I promise, these are all just meandering thoughts. It’s all on page 99, check it out.

Ex oh, Ex oh, Love, Me

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Things that need a reality check

Courtesy of CNN, Jenny Sanford makes a statement regarding her husband’s recent disappearance and infidelity:

I believe wholeheartedly in the sanctity, dignity and importance of the institution of marriage. I believe that has been consistently reflected in my actions. When I found out about my husband’s infidelity I worked immediately to first seek reconciliation through forgiveness, and then to work diligently to repair our marriage. We reached a point where I felt it was important to look my sons in the eyes and maintain my dignity, self-respect, and my basic sense of right and wrong. I therefore asked my husband to leave two weeks ago.

This trial separation was agreed to with the goal of ultimately strengthening our marriage. During this short separation it was agreed that Mark would not contact us. I kept this separation quiet out of respect of his public office and reputation, and in hopes of keeping our children from just this type of public exposure. Because of this separation, I did not know where he was in the past week.

I believe enduring love is primarily a commitment and an act of will, and for a marriage to be successful, that commitment must be reciprocal. I believe Mark has earned a chance to resurrect our marriage.

Jenny Sanford.  Please… just… just…

This man chose to spend his time during your trial separation – WHICH WAS INTENDED TO “STRENGTHEN [YOUR] MARRIAGE” – bonking his Argentinian mistress!

By disappearing. Unsubtly. To a foreign country.

Instead of doing something which would actually prove that he was committed to making this marriage work, he actually flaunted the fact that he doesn’t care.

You are so right.  He definitely has earned a second chance.

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Things that are both creepy and embarrassing

As previously discussed, my computer/internet is not what one would call “top of the line.”  For this reason, when I know I will need to use a computer for personal use for a lengthy amount of time, I will often stay late at work and utilize the privileges of fast internet and large hard-drive space.

Tonight, I decided to abuse said privileges to register for my Grad School classes and listen to one more painful Cubs loss. As per usual, my meandering takes much longer than I’d expect and at one point I look outside and realize, to my shock, that it is in fact pitch dark.

With further use of my high intelligence (and inspection of a clock), I discover it is actually 9:30pm. My automatic “Oh, crap” mode snaps in, and I attempt to finish what I can before total patheticness sets in, when all the sudden, things get creepy.

See, now, at work,we often have people over inspecting the roof for various reasons: leaks, HVAC stuff, solar panels, etc. Therefore, I am well versed in what it sounds like when someone is walking on our roof.

And tonight, my brain abruptly registers this dull sound.

Thump.

Thump.

Ba-bum thump.

I pseudo-ignore it for a few minutes while I clean up, trying to imagine it’s thunder, the wind, my overactive brain, whatever.

Thump.

Ba-dum bum. Thump.

Shit.

That is SO not the wind.

Okay, so sometimes people break into our office building, steal some shit. Whatever. It’s petty shit, right? We’re not in the greatest area, but it’s not terrible… at least it’s better than it used to be when we had a prostitution ring semi-regularly use our parking lot for transactions. It’s probably some kids, who somehow scaled the wall to the roof. They’ll leave, right? They see there’s lights on, right? I’m not in any danger, right? RIGHT?

Thump.

Ba-dum.

Bum.

Thump.

Okay.  Shit. My brain is going into overdrive, so I might as well call 311, and see if they’ll do a welfare check on the building. Then again, maybe I’m overreacting.

Ba-dum-bum-bum thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Okay, fine, I’m not overreacting. I dial.  311 decides my call IS an emergency and puts me through to police dispatch. I explain my situation, and pretend I’m not as freaked out as my brain is, and ask ever-so-nicely if they’d just possibly send someone over to check out the roof of the building. They agree, and after I hang up I have to decide whether or not I’m leaving or staying put until the cops get here.  After all, it’s just a welfare check, and this IS Chicago – it could take hours for them to arrive.

Ba-dum.

Thump. Thump Thump.

Ba-thump. Thud.

Right. Okay.
Staying put. Check.

I call a couple of people from work to keep myself calm and inform them of the situation, and, much to my surprise, after only about 5 minutes, three Chicago Police Officers show up.

On bicycles.

I graciously unlock and open the front door and talk to one of them while the other two circle the building. I 30-second sum up the past petty crime, the walking sounds on the roof, the fact that I’m in the building by myself when normally no one is at work this late. Mr. Police officer looks at me, and very kindly says:

“Oh. That does sound creepy, but are you sure it wasn’t the fireworks?”

Um.

Oh.

Okay.

Shit.

It’s a Wednesday night. In Chicago. And there are fireworks at Navy Pier in the summer at 9:30pm. Every Wednesday.

That’s why the footsteps sounded so constant. And started so suddenly.

Shit.

Shit.

Mr. Police Men are very kind and not insulting at all as they offer to wait until I go inside, lock up, and get in one of the work trucks to drive home.

So. Um.  Thank you Police Sirs, for indulging my extraordinarily overactive brain for Things That Go Bump In The Dark.  Also, I think you’re pretty awesome for riding bikes while fighting crime.

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84

I took my bike out today for its inaugural ride along the lakefront bike path (yes, I know it’s June and that’s late but I was injured and so was my bike so ha take that yeah). And, though glorious time and weather it was, by the time I passed Belmont, I was so irked I couldn’t handle it, so I started counting them.

I counted 84.

84 people, between Belmont and Hollywood Blvd. on the southbound bike path Not. Wearing. Fucking. Helmets.

What the fuck.

Do I really need to post more BIKE SMASHY pictures????

No, but I will anyways:

Wear your goddamn helmets

Wear your goddamn helmets

Bike smashies = BAD FUCKING NEWS.

It’s my new goddamn fruitless crusade: Wear your helmets, Chicagoans.  I promise, your flattened fucking hair won’t care.

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Things that are just plain stupid

I consider myself to be a fan of bicycling.  I’m not perhaps the most hard-core messenger-criticalmass-mountain-biker, but as I don’t own a car and have a love/hate relationship with the Chicago bus system, I biked to work on a regular basis into December this past year.  But… well, then it was winter. In Chicago. And I’m just not that bad ass.

That being said, the birds are now chirping and the month of May has brought around the beginning of summer in Chicago like a fresh cup of coffee that slowly awakens the morning. That’s a terrible metaphor, but go with it, I’m tired (hence the coffee imagery).  And so, with summer, come the return of the bikers!

“Hurray!” says the environment!  “Bloody shit,” say thousands of drivers.

Now, I say this as a bike-lover myself… sometimes the bikers in Chicago make no sense.  Most cyclists are fine, but the ones who aren’t stand out and give a bad name to the rest of us.  For instance: Any biker who rides on Ashland Avenue. WTF? Why? Way to bike someplace where there is not only no bike lane, but there’s barely room for two cars, so that people have to swerve into other lanes to go around you. Oh, and way to do it at rush hour.

But fine. Sure. Mostly it’s just asinine nitpicky things that different bikers see different ways.  But one thing I just find plain damn stupid:

Where the FUCK is your helmet???

Honestly, driving to work this morning, I counted the cyclists I passed – of the 18 I passed, only 6 of them were wearing helmets.  And 4 of them were obviously a family biking to school.

One woman had her helmet with her, not on her head, but naturally instead in her bike basket.

YES. BECAUSE THAT WILL SAVE YOU WHEN THIS HAPPENS:

BIKE SMASHY

BIKE SMASHY

For realz.  This is just plain damn stupid.

All I can say is:

Helmets are hot

Helmets are hot

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Things that make me angry #5

I currently coach a 6th grade girls volleyball team, and have, throughout the past 10 years or so, coached (or assistant coached) everything from 5th grade to high school summer skills camps.

And never have I coached against a team whose players, playing style, and coaching, make me so furious.

Over the years, I’ve coached mostly with the same woman, and we try to teach the kids good skills and good volleyball in the beginning years, rather than just teaching them to win.  To be perfectly honest, especially at the 5th and 6th grade level, depending on the amount of practice and athletic abilities, teaching the kids to play good volleyball (ie, controlled bump-set-spike) often results in the kids losing more games.

It can be frustrating to have to reassure the team they played well, even though they lost, because they were trying for three hits while the other team just pounds it over on the first ball. And normally I can still appreciate the other team, despite sloppy form and differing ideologies.

This year, though… I found my Nemesis Team.

Our 6th grade team played in 2 leagues in which this other team also played, which meant I got to spend a lot of time watching our opponent.  I know their names, I know their playing styles, I know their coaches, heck, I even recognize many of their parents.

And I hate them.

I know. It’s not kosher to hate any team when you’re a coach, especially a 6th grade team.  I know. It’s horrible and uncooth, and uber-juvenile. I know.

But I hate them.

These girls are possibly the meanest team I have ever seen, including high school teams I’ve played against. And throughout the season, they got just worse. I watched their team captain (also the coaches daughter) yell at her own teammates whenever she made a mistake.  And three hits?  Screw that! I’m going to stick my butt out and pound the ball to the back, and if you don’t, I’ll roll my eyes at you.  Oh, and while I’m at it, I’ll make fun of the chubbier girl on the other team when we’re ahead.

SPORTSMANSHIP FAIL

SPORTSMANSHIP FAIL

SPORTSMANSHIP FAIL

But tonight took the cake.  I’ve never seen more eye rolling and bitchy attitudes on the court as during this game. At one point one of their girls passed the ball to the captain to set, but the captain ended up messing up her own set, and proceeded to g  l  a  r  e at the teammate until she apologized… for doing absolutely nothing wrong. Anytime the girls messed up they SLAMMED the ball under the net, one time almost hitting our setter in the nose.

But I think one moment sums up the entire 3 game experience:

On serve receive their backrow passer called the ball,  set herself up to pass, but the captain instead shuffled over, bumped into her, and Knocked. Her. Own. Teammate. Down. and tried to pass the ball.  And then got huffy with her teammate when she then messed up the pass anyways.

It wasn’t like this, with both players just reaching for the ball:

Nope, was most definitely a one-person-standing-still-and-one-sliding-over-to-knock-you-over-because-I’m-so-much-better play:

Bitchy Volleyball Smash

Bitchy Volleyball Smash

So after watching this Bitchfest-’09-Epic-Sportsmanship-FAIL for the past 3 months, you know the best part of my night?

When my 6th graders played their best controlled, three hits game and finally beat this team to win the championship!

BOO FUCKIN YA.

Best irony of the night? On the way out, one of our players saw the other team’s captain and said, “Good game tonight!”  Her response?  A roll of the eyes and, “Yeah, whatever.”

FAIL.

Honestly?  Who teaches these girls that this behavior is okay?!?!

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Things that make me not-so-much “angry” as much as “sad”

Setting: Office, sunny Monday afternoon.

Characters:
Miguel: Incompetent oaf
Me: Diligent office worker with currently less-than-diligent knee, which is bandaged and propped up on desk

<scene>

Miguel:  Oh, hey, I see your knee is wrapped up and elevated there, what happened?

Me: I was playing volleyball last Thursday, I sprained my MCL in my left knee.

Miguel: Oh, wow, that’s what I hurt, too!

Me: Yeah, you mean with your 5th Workers’ Comp claim injury? When you jumped off the truck?

Miguel: Yeah, that’s the one.  So did you go get it checked out?

Me: Yup. I went to the hospital and got it checked out that night. They said that I sprained my MCL and probably pulled my hamstrings, too.  I pinched something on that side when I came down and it was pretty painful.

Miguel:  Wow, I’m surprised you can put your leg stretched up like that after only a couple of days; I couldn’t do that.

Me: Well, didn’t you tear your MCL?

Miguel: Uuuh, well, the doctor said that it’s only a  really small, tiny tear actually.

Me: Uh, wait, didn’t you miss like, 3 or 4 weeks of work because of that?

Miguel: Well, yeah, ‘cuz I had to get an MRI done and stuff.

Me: But if it’s a small MCL tear that doesn’t need surgery, that usually only takes about 2 weeks to heal,?  Err… I thought?  Well. Um, oookaaayy… well, yeah, usually a sprain is not as bad as a tear though, so I guess I got off easy.

Miguel: But you said it hurt, like, a lot, right? Wow, I still can’t believe your leg is able to stretch and bend like that.

Me: Well.. uh, yeah.  I mean, I had crutches for a few days, and I’m still icing and elevating it, but I’m trying to make sure it doesn’t get too stiff and then bending it when I can. You know.

Miguel: Still, wow.  I couldn’t stretch like that when my knee was hurt.

Me: Well, firstly, different injuries. Secondly, you couldn’t stretch like that before your damn injury.

Miguel: Huh?  Well, I’m doing rehab on it now, but… I guess no rehab for you?

Me: No, not really… I’m just trying to be smart about using it.

Miguel: And you’re at work?

Me: Yes,  because you see, some people can put a brace on their knee AND work at the same time.  I guess I’m just really talented, huh?

Miguel: I guess. It sucks though, I haven’t gotten paid yet for my time missed.

Me: That does suck… but it’s because you have barely tried to contact the Workers’ Comp people because you think someone else will do it for you… even though Sienna has told you about 37 times that you need to call them yourself and take care of it because they need confirmation.  But you haven’t done that yet.

Miguel: Durrr?  Sorry, I missed that.  I was spinning in circles and  ran into a wall. I think I need to go file another Workers’ Comp claim.

Me: Well, you can’t, because our coverage got cancelled thanks to your 5 damn claims.

Miguel: [long pause]  Nooooooooooooo!!!! What will I do when I stupidly injure myself from now on!?!

Me: Quit and file for Disability, once more screwing the system meant to protect you?

Miguel: Heeeeeey now…

Me: JOKE, MIGUEL.

<Fin>

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