This is a long one, folks...

Yesterday was faculty-advisor meeting day. I'll be finishing my Master's degree in May (thank GOD!), assuming I survive my internship and comprehensive exam, which means it's time to start thinking about The Next Step. Those are always the discussions that are pretty much guaranteed to give me anxiety. It means it's time to start thinking about where and what the next job will be, and most importantly, The Doctorate Decision (or TDD, as I've decided to nickname it). My advisor and I talked for a solid hour about whether or not the PhD would be the way to go. Of course, she thinks so. Any academic will tell you to go for it - after all, it's the one thing they've devoted their lives to. Not to encourage another 4 years of indentured servitude to academia would be a crime for those already a part of the clandestine few. Plus, if I want to move up in Higher Ed, it's gotta happen.

I know I'm good for it. It's not the work that intimidates me - academics have always come pretty easily to me. It's just the combination of the other issues that concern me. First off, it's a major commitment to several more years as a student, which I find a bit wearing. Second, finding a topic I care enough about to write an entire thesis on would be a challenge. Number three, however, is the big one. Often times, lately, I wonder if there's any point to the field of Higher Education and all of the work that we do as administrators. I've spent hours upon hours of the last 2 years of my life learning to be culturally competent, how to counsel and communicate effectively with students to teach them to, in turn, become culturally sensitive and competent people. But the more I interact with the average college student of 2008, the less I think we have an impact.

Today's college students are different than those I graduated with 5 years ago. The Millenial generation has given way to another breed of student that I'm not sure I can even comprehend, let alone foster growth in. The children of the late-cycle Baby Boomers are self-involved, self-important, and have zero social skills. Many of them don't understand the concepts of work ethic or compassion, respect or value. One might argue that, because everything they could possibly need is in their dorm rooms (fridge, plasma tv, high speed computer, cell phone, instant messenger, library interface) or can be delivered (pizza, laundry, and even online classes) they don't ever have to interact with another human being live-action. They view everything as negotiable. Americans like to pretend that college is about "getting a good education", but really, it's about "getting a good socialization". Teens might pick a school based on academics, but what they actually learn is how to be a productive person that lives in the world. When I pull up a mental image of today's college sophomore, sometimes I actually picture those little monsters from the Lamisil commercial, running around screaming


How am I supposed to be prepared to devote another 4 years of my life studying how to improve the educational and social environment for a bunch of 20 year old terrorists who care about nothing? I don't see college students protesting or advocating for change. I don't see them having debates about politics. I don't see them really engaging in anything more significant than Britney Spears'** latest antics or who was on American Idol last night. They live in a world of fast-cutting, transitory elements, and I feel like they have very, very, very little in touch with reality. I see almost nothing of my college self in them anymore. Maybe after (barely) surviving 8 years of George W. Bush's America - an America he stole - I've become incurably cynical. I'm not sure if this is the case, but at any rate, I have serious doubts as to whether or not this population is worth investing anther 4 years of my life into. I don't know who to blame for them - parents? George Bush? Bill Clinton? The pop-music phenomena? TMZ? - but I do know that I have very serious reservations about what happens when they grow up to be in charge of the development of others.

Is this a person who really should be going for a Doctorate in educational administration and psychology - someone whose faith in the process is quickly waning? Maybe I should switch it up and go to Vet Tech school instead. Dogs and cats still have some humanity left in them. Now isn't that ironic?

** This front-page article in the latest issue of Rolling Stone titled "The Tragedy of Britney Spears" was something I found really interesting in relation to the phenomenon of today's societal values.

Should I Call it the "WC" Instead?

I just realized that the email address of a coworker who I absolutely can not stand rhymes with the word "toilet". This discovery made my day marginally more amusing, especially since there's not much of a difference between sending an email to her and sending one right down the crapper.

If He Can Do It, Anyone Can!

While I'm at work, determining the fate of various transfer students, I often listen to online radio through my computer. I find it keeps me motivated and in a better mood, which is a good thing for the aforementioned potential future students. I have general guidelines for my preferred selection: it has to be background music, something rock-y but mellow, unoffensive volume-wise, and generally enjoyable. I tend to gravitate towards the Coffeehouse station on Yahoo Launch, which tends to play the Jack Johnson, Norah Jones, singer-songwriter types.

Yet there are certain artists, despite my attempt to tell Yahoo to never play again by clicking the "never play this again" box (and this is a major pet peeve of mine) that continue to resurface, despite my best intentions. Brett Dennen is one of those artists. This might sound harsh, but I really fucking hate Brett Dennen. Why do I hate him so much, you ask? Well, it all started with the fact that his voice sucks, and culminates with the fact that he pronounces the word "free" "fweee". 3-year olds speak that way. It's an "r" buddy - learn the damn alphabet! And I hate his hats. Plus, his lyrics are petulant, insipid and infuriating. Dear Yahoo Launch: please stop playing Brett Dennen. And Beth Orton. And Sarah McLaughlin. And Mo-Zella, whatever or whoever that might be. Oh and especially James Blunt. Jazon Mraz is fine. Thank You.

Parting Words to Mr. Anonymous

Duke, huh? Let me guess... with that kind of vocabulary... you're there on a lacrosse scholarship. Am I right? And for the record, you called me a "dyke" the first time you visited my blog, uninvited and unsolicited. I'd say you threw the first punch.

I won't be responding to you again.

Survey Says...

Christina Aguilera's boobs - real or fake? Discuss.

February Blues

I am ready for winter to be over.

I'm sick of slush. I'm sick of snow. I'm sick of feeling like my skin is so dry and tight it's going to peel right off. I'm sick of this hacking cough I've had for 3 weeks. I want to run outside again, finishing up as the sun sets, watching the world turn red and gold. I want to wake up in daylight, sit on my balcony drinking my first cup of coffee, watching the neighbors stroll by with their dogs. I want to leave the house with less than 3 layers of clothes on. I want to see leaves on the trees, vibrantly-colored flowers, music in the air and the smell of charcoal on the breeze. I want to wear skirts and flip-flops.

The one comforting thing about living in the Northeast is that, despite the desolate brown of winter... you know there's an end in sight. One day, probably in late March, I'll roll out of bed, and it will all be here. The birds, the leaves, the sunlight, the warmth. Life will return to my little corner of the world, and happiness will be restored. At the end of February, however, that moment often seems all too far away.

That being said... I don't think I could live in a place without seasons. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I'm fairly certain I wouldn't love summer half as much if I didn't have winter's misery to compare it to.

Life Lessons

This is why NCLB is a terrible thing:

"i was bored and i like reading. u should try it 2 better ur writing. u deleted my comments? y? thaz sad. u must really B a fat dyke if it bothered u that much."

How many problems can you find with this comment from someone who can't be bothered to spell out entire words? Shockingly, this gem of a human being (I use the term loosely) doesn't actually have his own blog. And at what point in our education system have we allowed text message and instant messenger shorthand to become an acceptable mode of formal communication? Good luck in junior college, kiddo - try not to fail English comp more than twice.

A few other things, douchebag (I was trying really hard to refrain from name calling, but a girl can only handle so many uses of the word "dyke" - at least switch it up and me a lesbian or queer or something): My picture is on the right of your screen, and my NAME is next to it. Maybe you should use your brain before you start spewing filth. At least "crayon dicked lard-ass" shows some creativity. But don't worry too much, honey - keep working hard at being a disgusting human being, and someday you'll be the manager of your very own Taco Bell!!

She Really Is Evil!

Since my re-entrance to the blogsphere, I've had some catching up to do. I noticed this morning that Segue posted an entry on The Dayton Underground at the end of December and I swear, he must have been talking about my cat...

I've Been Called Worse

To the 'anonymous' moron who found it entertaining to make nasty comments on my blog yesterday because he clearly has nothing better to do (and good grief, how bored were you that you went that far back?):

Either go away, or try upping the level of discourse a bit. Considering the fact that intelligence seems to be of premium concern to you, calling people "fat dykes" (of which I am neither, but thanks for the effort) is a pretty neanderthal response, wouldn't you think? Go find someone else's blog to anoint with your pearls of infinite wisdom. Here, they will be deleted. Better yet, why don't you let me read your blog for a while?

An Open Letter

Dear Student,

If you can't say your name intelligibly on my voice mail - and I've listened to it 4 times in an effort to comprehend your message - I'm not calling you back. Realistically, what do you expect me to do? "Hi, this is Becky calling from the College. Someone with an inscrutable name from this number - I think it was this number, but I'm not sure, because that was kind of jumbled too - left me a voice mail, so I'm just going to talk to you, whoever you are that picks up the phone." No, I don't think so. With any luck, I'll get your 12 year old little sister who wants to tell me about her Barbie Playtime Palace. You have now wasted 3 minutes of my day that could have been productive. In fact, you wasted 10, because you aggravated me so much that I had to take approximately 7 minutes to blog about it. That is all.

Sincerely,
Your Devoted Registrar

They Have Pink Martinis On Them!

Full Disclosure: Sometimes in the winter, I like to sit in my office in my bare socks for as long as I can get away with it in the morning instead of putting on my big girl shoes. It's not like anyone sees me in my little hole. Or cares.

It's A Jungle Out There...

A cautionary tale of the pitfalls of online dating below...

Don't believe your mother - even Jewish guys can be creepy!

Warning: Don't Try This At Home!

Do you suppose it says something about the society we live in when, a commercial showing a woman steam rolling over her old washing machine so she can buy a shiny new one, has to include a disclaimer at the bottom of the screen that states, "do not attempt"? Seriously - what? I guess it speaks to the same litigious obsession of Americans that forced McDonald's to put a disclaimer on their coffee that says, "caution: this beverage is extremely hot"... but still. This, to me, seems even MORE ridiculous. I mean... where am I even going to GET a giant slingshot machine or bulldozer to destroy my old washer, and even if I could... that girl in the commercial looks way hotter than I would doing it, anyway. I'd be grunting and sweating, and she's standing around filing her nails in a designer red dress. Plus, I don't even have enough quarters (at a buck 25 a load!) to do coin-operated laundry this weekend - I can't afford your fucking washing machine anyway. Don't you know we're heading into a recession, LG? How dare you! I'm gonna go back to selling my kidney on Ebay to afford my rent next month...