Probability and other conspiracies

[amatullah76]

Here's me trying to balance my voyeuristic tendencies (I lurk. I read your posts. All of them. Your lives intrigue me.) with a post of my own. In list form because it's been a while and because I'm lazy.            

•  

 
• I received the worst grade of my academic career last week. The first assignment in my quantitative research methods class involved applying the Theory of Probability to a dice rolling activity. Elementary. Unless of course you happen to be me; one who loves and admires the mathematically inclined, but understands she will never be part of the mysterious fraternity of those who don't require the help of an abacus to balance their checkbooks. In any case, my kind, patient professor gave me a B/C and gently explained that the Chi-square numbers I'd come up with were "impossible." He tried to offset this by telling me he'd read my paper on representations of the working class in television comedies and thought I should clean it up and try to see it published. I didn't die of shame, but I'm still quite disappointed in myself.
• I'm going to see Flight of the Conchords for the second time on April 24. Fifth row, orchestra pit. Ashley, Jess, and Dan are going. I'm happy about this. (See the Oxford comma? I'm trying it out. I'll let you know how it goes.)
• Rammstein is likely to do some shows in North America next year. I will see them. I will. Detroit isn't likely, but Chicago, New York, a few places in Canada, and almost certainly in Mexico (they are much beloved in Mexico, I'd like to look into the why of that). I will go alone if I have to, because everyone I've asked has refused (but only after mocking my love of Rammstein and questioning my judgment in general). So if there are any takers here, let me know. I understand people like complexity and good musicianship and all that sort of thing, but blunt, monotonous and aggressive can be appealing as well. That and Till Lindemann and Ollie Riedel are made of sex. And besides, if I'm forced to go alone and am lost, trampled, or attacked by any of their misguided white supremacist fans, you'll feel bad. So suck it up and come with me.
• Have realized that working six days (even if they're relatively short days) and taking three classes was a bad idea. I'm half-assing all my assignments. I'm still getting good marks (previously mentioned assignment excepted), but I think that's more an indication of low standards than of my brilliance.
• Am reconsidering this Ph.D idea. I'm not sure I'm in a position to accept the vow of poverty required, so might just get another M.A. (I want to collect them, you know). I'm unhappy because I'm certain I would do well if I continued, but I have Olivia to consider and am not sure it would be fair to her.
• I got a food processor about a month ago. It changed my life. I can make hummus in two minutes. I've also started making my own laundry soap and rice milk (separately). Am especially happy about the rice milk, as that stuff is ridiculously expensive (my lactose intolerant/vegan friends will sympathize).
• I'm on spring break this week. Evenings are mine. Unfortunately, I'll have to spend them working on the avalanche of assignments due immediately after spring break. But I will have a few spare hours, so if anyone's interested in getting together, do let me know.
• Wissam's basement apartment is finished. This means we will be finished at the end of this month (religiously, if not legally). It might seem odd that my ex husband will live in my basement, but there's no one else I'd rather have lurking about under my feet. How is it that I managed to have the most amicable divorce in all divorcedom? Practice, maybe. And he's a good guy, alhamdulillah. He made it tolerable.
• Back in January, I was leaving school in the midst of a blizzard (read: moderate snow) when I saw a young fellow wearing a T-shirt and no coat walking from the sidewalk to the middle of the street, staring at the ground all the while. He was dragging a bookbag along the ground. He paid no attention to traffic and seemed disoriented. He was obviously a student, so I called the campus police. I waited in my car until I saw them approach him, then I went home. Would I have called if he hadn't been young and clean cut? Nope. There are plenty of mentally ill people wandering the area and I only ever pause long enough to give them money. I'd never dream of calling the police for them. And how would the police respond if I did bother to call them for someone who's obviously homeless and mentally ill? I suppose it was the idea that this kid was obviously not homeless that made me concerned that he'd be more vulnerable than those who are that made me call. But really, does homelessness as a permanent state make the mentally ill any less vulnerable than some kid who's either high or just had some sort of breakdown? Not sure why I thought to write about it now, except that it's bothered me since. Deinstitutionalization. Fine idea.
• In other news, my kitty is growing up and getting meaner every day (go look at her pictures on Facebook). Olivia is also growing up and getting meaner every day.
• I am awaiting my copy of The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade. I snagged it on Bookmooch. I love that site. You should join. You offer your unwanted/unsellable books, ship them at your expense to people who want them. In return, you get to choose books listed by others and have them sent to you-no charge.
• I'm going to see Tariq Ali on the 27th. One of my favorite professors from UofM-Flint is hosting him and has invited me to a small, informal gathering before the event. I know I've already invited some of you, but if anyone else is interested, let me know.
• Watched "Pride and Glory" last night. Not exactly a brilliant piece of cinema, but I like Ed Norton and Colin Farrell.
• Also went to Gibralter Trade Center (flea market) for the first time yesterday. I'm not going to make any snide remarks about  fleas and hillbillies. I will say that anyone rash enough to get tattooed at any of the five tattoo joints there takes his life in his hands. Rarely have I seen a sadder collection of meth faces under one roof. I suppose I've been fortunate to have tattoo artists who were reasonably sober and mindful of the sterile chain of events. Still, it was interesting. They didn't really have anything I wanted, but I did buy some lovely incense. I also stopped to look at a display of Chinese-themed "stuff". Aside from the usual phoenix and dragon paintings and sparkly hair chopsticks, there were some interesting jade pendants. I was looking at one carved in the shape of a monkey when the lady at the counter said, "That's not for you. I think you're a dragon." I chuckled, a very good age-guesser, this lady. I am a dragon. So I picked up a dragon pendant. She said, "That's good for earth dragons, you're a fire dragon." She handed me a different pendant, less expensive than the one I'd been looking at. Because she didn't try to sell me the more expensive of the two, I bought it. Whether I believe in helpful animal friends or the auspicious properties of jade is irrelevant. I'll take my luck wherever I can get it. And it's nice to think that I'm a fire dragon. Grrr.

 

So that's it for now. I'll post again in another three months if anything interesting happens. In the meantime, I leave you with the greatest Depeche Mode cover of all time.

Click to view