Journal Entries

I'm sorry, I am a feminist

*sigh*

I just read a depressing article by Maureen Dowd.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/30/magazine/30feminism.html?incamp=article_popular

What makes it even more depressing is that I've seen/felt/experienced most of it.

smiley - sadface

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Latest reply: Oct 30, 2005

A Little Bit

Sometimes that's all it takes.

My Chinese roommate was really excited about Halloween in the US- especially about the pumpkin carving event they had at the community center this evening. I was looking forward to stabbing something after the last paper I had turned in, so I went along for stress relief purposes.

I was taking my turn carving the mouth into the pumpkin, when one of the Community Assistant people said that his wife was expecting their second kid this week. His son had already gone to a "Big Brother" class where I guess he learned to change a diaper and everything.

I don't know if any of you know this, but I missed out on that when my brother was born. Not for lack of wanting to. I've just now gotten comfortable holding infants after 18 years since he was born.

I couldn't hold, feed, or change my brother because he was born with a cleft palate. We had to treat him like glass from the day he was born to the day the surgery finally closed the hole in the roof of his mouth. He wore no-nos, braces on his arms preventing his elbows from bending, to keep him from picking at his stiches. He had to be fed with an eyedropper. The first sign of a cough would mean a trip to the hospital, several of which turned out to be warranted. I do remember playing with him as best I could, helping him make triangles with his immobilized arms. I told the dad this, and said how lucky his son was to be able to do this with his little brother.

Smita was listening- she's a very nice lady from India who uses a motorized wheelchair and works with disabled people. She asked me how my brother was today, and I told her- he's a freshman in college, a champion swimmer, has had umpteen surgeries and you can't even tell.

She litterally cornered me after while I was wiping pumpkin guts off my hands. Apparently, a friend of hers has a son with a cleft palate as well, and considering where he is in India, they don't have the resources to help him. It's pretty bad now, she said, and she wanted to know the name of the doctor. I told her I'd find out right away.

After I got home, I called my mom and told her about it. She gave me the name of the doctor, the surgical center, and a charity that can get them here. Pittsburgh has a pretty big Indian community anyway, so I'd be surprised if they couldn't find someone to help them out. I passed these on to Smita, and she'll pass them on to her friend.

In any case, the ball's rolling. I hope something good comes of it.

I feel better about it anyway.

Discuss this Journal entry [7]

Latest reply: Oct 28, 2005

Math

*shudder*

I have a girl in my lab that I'm TA-ing who claims she hates math. I put the formula on the board for them to use, tell them what the variables mean, do an example if its more than plug & chug, and let them do the rest. I couldn't be any clearer if I gave them the answer.

"I hate math!" she shrieks. "It's so hard to understand! Can't you make it any easier?"

I laugh. She doesn't know the /meaning/ of the word "hard." She won't know what it is to "hate math" until she deals with eight partial differentials in three different equations, none of which actually tell you what you need to know until you solve all three, and plug the results into a fourth equation and solve for Q.

I think I'll show her my open channel hydrology exam when I get it back.

smiley - bruised

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Latest reply: Oct 20, 2005

Reasons to get up early to work out

1) I feel more awake the rest of the day

2) I have no time any other time of day to work out

3) It will help me get healthy

4) It will get me in shape for field work

5) The Marines ROTC jogs by the front door of my apartment when I go to catch the bus for the gym. Wearing shorts. smiley - bigeyessmiley - drool

Mmmm...

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Latest reply: Oct 11, 2005

In Search Of Paternoville

The picture in the newspaper showed an army of tents on the concrete. The caption read:

"'Paternoville' has grown from 11 tents on Sunday night to more than 100 in front of Beaver Stadium's Gate A yesterday."

I had to go.

I had to see it.

Even if I didn't have a snowball's chance in the Amazon of getting a ticket.

I armed myself with my camera, my keys, my "House that Joe Built" shirt and the 27 cents I had in my pocket from yesterday, and set off across campus, swimming in a sea of blue and white.

For the foreigners (or Americans who have been living under a rock for the past 50 years), Paternoville is named for the legendary football coach, Joe Paterno. He's got to be 70-something now, and he's still coaching. I have no idea how much longer he will be, so I'm glad I got to see at least one of his games.

When I reached Beaver Stadium, I just went along with the current of people bearing me toward that hallowed house of gridiron heroes. I relished the smell of brats and other assorted food being cooked on grills larger than my car. I finally managed to find a lull, and stood on the hilltop overlooking the valley.

I don't think I've ever seen as many RVs in my life- the tents, busses, and other vehicles stretched over to the next valley and beyond. I'm pretty sure I saw grill smoke coming from Bald Eagle, on the other side of the next ridge. I stood there for some time, contemplating it all.

Football in Penn State isn't just a game- it isn't even a sport. It's more like a phenomenon- possibly even a religion, if you're careful how you qualify that. People come from hundreds of miles, spend hundreds of dollars, just to watch these people play- and it's magic. I've sat in the stadium, cheered and done the wave. I've felt and heard that moment of breathlessness when the ball is in the air for a long pass as everyone stands, and the explosive cheer that erupts when it falls flawlessly into the receiver's hands.

I never did find that shantytown of tents that was on the front page of the paper. I expect they had already been torn down to make way for the tailgaters. But I did find Paternoville. It stretched from my apartment, to the stadium, to my friends' house where we watched the game.

The Lions under Joe Paterno pulled off a win over the OSU Buckeyes, 17-10. The fans in the stands all through the game cheered and chanted, the refrain echoing throughout the city of State College long after the game was over.

We are
Penn State!

We are
PENN STATE!

WE ARE
PENN STATE!

Discuss this Journal entry [7]

Latest reply: Oct 9, 2005


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