I have at least two weddings to go to this summer.
My cousin Margaret is getting married at St. Patrick's in New York. It should be a pretty nice little shindig. That is if she can do anything little. It is at St. Patrick's after all.
This was all set until Neal decided to go off and get married this summer too.
I was given the assignment of making sure the two did not occur on the same weekend. The Wrights can't be in New York and in San Francisco on the same day. I thought about how to tactfully manipulate this. Neal hadn't picked a day yet, so it wasn't as though I was telling him to change the day or anything like that. Sometimes a preventive strike is the best sort.
So I sent Neal an e-mail:
Not that we're invited or anything but I wanted to let you know that between my cousin's June wedding in New York and yours in San Francisco we'll probably pick hers. Not that we like her more, but she's more likely to have an open bar. You did say you were going to be cutting down on "auxiliary costs" like food and alcohol.... but hopefully I'll just be traveling too much to get a summer job. Not that I'm invited or anything.
As always,
Kate
Neal's response was appropriate. He put his wedding the week before my cousin's (see preventive strikes do work sometimes) and to make sure we wouldn't not go to his wedding for some reason like: "I'm going to Mexico" or "I'm in grad school" or "I can't afford to go to three weddings in two months," or anything like that he simply asked Sam and I to be in the wedding.
Funny thing is I didn't think they were going to have attendants; now Neal claims there are twelve. I wonder if plans will change after I get my plane tickets or how bad these dresses might be.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Linguistics lesson of the day
My classes are comparing and contrasting North Kora and South Korea to study the advantages and disadvantages of command economies and market economies.
Strangely enough the question to come out of this lesson in two of my classes (out of three) was, "what is the difference between pigs and pork?" Guess if you can't eat them anyway there really doesn't need to be a different word.
Which brings up the question, what is the difference between ham and pork?
Ham is the thigh and the butt; pork is anything from a pig. So when I went to Birmingham and found "the best butts in town..." that was a ham sandwich.
Strangely enough the question to come out of this lesson in two of my classes (out of three) was, "what is the difference between pigs and pork?" Guess if you can't eat them anyway there really doesn't need to be a different word.
Which brings up the question, what is the difference between ham and pork?
Ham is the thigh and the butt; pork is anything from a pig. So when I went to Birmingham and found "the best butts in town..." that was a ham sandwich.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Odoriferous coffee
Question:
I'm currently reading Memoirs from an Antproof Case, a novel by Mark Helprin. It is pretty good reading, interesting to say the least. There isn't much plot development though... except for one point. The main character (who has more pseudonyms than Liz Taylor has husbands) doesn't like coffee.
This wouldn't seem compelling if he disliked coffee to the degree that say, my dad dislikes coffee. My dad says he'll drink it when it gets back under a dollar a pound. He drinks tea with two Sweet 'n' lows and extra lemon. The main character here abhors coffee. He has killed over it and lost two great loves to it. There is little character development outside of coming to understand that he really really really abhors coffee to a degree that no one can truly understand. There being no plot of character development, the driving question to discover is just why the character holds such distain for the beverage that brought about the Industrial Revolution.
So I must ask myself, if I finish this book am I too going to dislike coffee? Am I prepared to accept the ways that this book may or may not change my life? Is it going to be good enough for me to put off starting Harry Potter V again?
I'm currently reading Memoirs from an Antproof Case, a novel by Mark Helprin. It is pretty good reading, interesting to say the least. There isn't much plot development though... except for one point. The main character (who has more pseudonyms than Liz Taylor has husbands) doesn't like coffee.
This wouldn't seem compelling if he disliked coffee to the degree that say, my dad dislikes coffee. My dad says he'll drink it when it gets back under a dollar a pound. He drinks tea with two Sweet 'n' lows and extra lemon. The main character here abhors coffee. He has killed over it and lost two great loves to it. There is little character development outside of coming to understand that he really really really abhors coffee to a degree that no one can truly understand. There being no plot of character development, the driving question to discover is just why the character holds such distain for the beverage that brought about the Industrial Revolution.
So I must ask myself, if I finish this book am I too going to dislike coffee? Am I prepared to accept the ways that this book may or may not change my life? Is it going to be good enough for me to put off starting Harry Potter V again?
Why maps are better than directions...
I started my library databases class today. I was to be there at 9AM. Heh.
It takes about 15 minutes to get to the Med Center from where I live. I've been there before, I knew what I was doing. I looked up directions to my parking garage, and because I didn't have an address I settled for driving directions from I-10 going east. I then found walking directions from the garage to my classroom. There is a whole website for these sorts of things. Kinda cool.
The website however did not take into account that three major thoroughfares were blocked by a fun run. Who the hell runs in a fun run through the Medical Center in the rain?????? All those people annoyingly trying to raise money for some sort of charity. They probably thought they were curing cancer when they were really just in my way. Aren't you all going to be back in the Med Center when you get pneumonia? Adding to my luck even more so, for some reason the garage I needed was locked making all subsequent directions irrelevant.
My directions were irrelevant, as were all my maps since they are older than the hospital itself. The cops weren't helpful either. They weren't really familiar with the Med Center, they just knew I couldn't turn left. Bah!
I'd left twenty extra minutes to get to class; I got there ten minutes late. Bleh.
Somehow I'd also forgotten my coffee in the car and all my notebook paper on my desk. I'm the class ditz.
So anyway I need some practice finding information so send any questions my way. Trivia type questions, not "what made Hitler nuts?" questions. Some of them I'll be able to answer, others I won't - but it is practice. Thanks.
It takes about 15 minutes to get to the Med Center from where I live. I've been there before, I knew what I was doing. I looked up directions to my parking garage, and because I didn't have an address I settled for driving directions from I-10 going east. I then found walking directions from the garage to my classroom. There is a whole website for these sorts of things. Kinda cool.
The website however did not take into account that three major thoroughfares were blocked by a fun run. Who the hell runs in a fun run through the Medical Center in the rain?????? All those people annoyingly trying to raise money for some sort of charity. They probably thought they were curing cancer when they were really just in my way. Aren't you all going to be back in the Med Center when you get pneumonia? Adding to my luck even more so, for some reason the garage I needed was locked making all subsequent directions irrelevant.
My directions were irrelevant, as were all my maps since they are older than the hospital itself. The cops weren't helpful either. They weren't really familiar with the Med Center, they just knew I couldn't turn left. Bah!
I'd left twenty extra minutes to get to class; I got there ten minutes late. Bleh.
Somehow I'd also forgotten my coffee in the car and all my notebook paper on my desk. I'm the class ditz.
So anyway I need some practice finding information so send any questions my way. Trivia type questions, not "what made Hitler nuts?" questions. Some of them I'll be able to answer, others I won't - but it is practice. Thanks.
Friday, January 26, 2007
The best of cloze notes of U.S. History
Real answers from a real test.
sigh
The 1930s was a more difficult time for America and the world. The Great Depression was caused by the stock market crash, a banking crisis, and a worldwide depression. President Dust Bowl (first name dust, last name bowl I guess) believed that this was part of the natural Hoover and took little action to assist the recovery of the stock market. Meanwhile New Deal rates continued to rise as many turned to food lines for relief. Cities around the country suddenly featured bissiness, shantytowns outside the city. 1932 saw the election of president Charlie Chaplin. He started the John Steinbeck which attempted to fix many of the problems of the Great Depression. As had as the nation tried to get back on it's feet, nature would not cooperate. The Hoovervilles literally lifted the earth from the ground over miles of the central United States, causing many to migrate. 1930s culture was also dictated by the Depression as well. Roosevelt filmed moves that allowed people to laught at themselves, while unemployment wrote about the hardships many suffered.
sigh
The 1930s was a more difficult time for America and the world. The Great Depression was caused by the stock market crash, a banking crisis, and a worldwide depression. President Dust Bowl (first name dust, last name bowl I guess) believed that this was part of the natural Hoover and took little action to assist the recovery of the stock market. Meanwhile New Deal rates continued to rise as many turned to food lines for relief. Cities around the country suddenly featured bissiness, shantytowns outside the city. 1932 saw the election of president Charlie Chaplin. He started the John Steinbeck which attempted to fix many of the problems of the Great Depression. As had as the nation tried to get back on it's feet, nature would not cooperate. The Hoovervilles literally lifted the earth from the ground over miles of the central United States, causing many to migrate. 1930s culture was also dictated by the Depression as well. Roosevelt filmed moves that allowed people to laught at themselves, while unemployment wrote about the hardships many suffered.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Yet another library joke
I've had three librarians forward this to everyone they know in the field in the last week.
I'm annoyed the protagonist is frumpy. You have to go to the link here.
I'm annoyed the protagonist is frumpy. You have to go to the link here.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
So I couldn't find the original, and it should be documented for posterity's sake
One of the problems with xanga is that you can't really find anything that you've posted in the past. Unless you know what date you wrote it. I don't so I can't find it... and this needs to go somewhere 'cause well it is a
NEAL STORY
from
REBECCA'S WEDDING
Hopefully years from now when I'm looking this it will be properly tagged and easily found.
Anyway.
The month was July of 2004. I don't know where I was when I heard it, but I had been given the monumental task of sewing a bridesmaid's dress. I was to be in the wedding of one Rebbecca, a girl I've known longer than I could say Rebecca, and so I spent the first years of my life calling her Baggit. Her older brother Neal called her Baggit for ten years. I couldn't talk, he was just mean.
Once Becca put a bat through Neal's door when she swung at him and he slammed the door in her face. It was a lovely relationship, or at least an interesting one.
It came to pass that Rebecca was to be married in August of 2004 and while the mom's were going about preparing the festivities Neal was safely tucked away in San Francisco, not to bother the occasion until his arrival. It also came to pass that while Neal was in California he was hit in the temple by a Frisbee... detaching his retina. His repair surgery was successful and he spent several weeks on the couch with a gas bubble holding his retina to his eye. I don't know how many people he called, but yet again he was forgetting the timezone difference.
The problem was this: when one has a detached retina it is generally considered unwise (as well as stupid) to experience much of a change in elevation while the glue is adhering. Apparently the glue isn't the super glue I use and it takes a bit longer for it to dry. Long enough that he wouldn't be able to change altitudes until after Bec's honeymoon. So Neal couldn't fly.
Driving was an option, but the lowest pass in the Rockies is 1,000 feet. Exactly what the doctor had told him, well a little over by about ten feet. Had this wedding taken place before such continental shifts Neal would have been able to be there, but as it was he was given a fantastic choice: his sister's wedding or sight. Neal chose sight. Can't blame him.
Time went on, there was a hope for a better prognosis - or that the doctor would say "just kidding!" or Neal would say "just kidding!" but alas, that didn't happen.
But Neal was a groomsman, more specifically my groomsman. I'm taller than him when I wear heels. I'm not tall. He is short. Heck, Becca's taller than him when he's wearing heels.
Somewhere in there someone came up with the idea of a cardboard cutout. Not one to just stand in the corner, but one to stand up at the front of the church while the vows were being read. The groomsmen brought him in on the side and most of the church laughed. Some old women were incensed that Neal was a) not dressed appropriately and b) not facing the right direction... and so the wedding continued. The pastor pronounced them man and wife and I got to escort Neal back down the aisle.
I might add that the very generous Neal paid for the honeymoon suite. Friends of Neal were responsible for getting the room while everyone else was at the Astros game.
The cutout later appeared in the shower.
NEAL STORY
from
REBECCA'S WEDDING
Hopefully years from now when I'm looking this it will be properly tagged and easily found.
Anyway.
The month was July of 2004. I don't know where I was when I heard it, but I had been given the monumental task of sewing a bridesmaid's dress. I was to be in the wedding of one Rebbecca, a girl I've known longer than I could say Rebecca, and so I spent the first years of my life calling her Baggit. Her older brother Neal called her Baggit for ten years. I couldn't talk, he was just mean.
Once Becca put a bat through Neal's door when she swung at him and he slammed the door in her face. It was a lovely relationship, or at least an interesting one.
It came to pass that Rebecca was to be married in August of 2004 and while the mom's were going about preparing the festivities Neal was safely tucked away in San Francisco, not to bother the occasion until his arrival. It also came to pass that while Neal was in California he was hit in the temple by a Frisbee... detaching his retina. His repair surgery was successful and he spent several weeks on the couch with a gas bubble holding his retina to his eye. I don't know how many people he called, but yet again he was forgetting the timezone difference.
The problem was this: when one has a detached retina it is generally considered unwise (as well as stupid) to experience much of a change in elevation while the glue is adhering. Apparently the glue isn't the super glue I use and it takes a bit longer for it to dry. Long enough that he wouldn't be able to change altitudes until after Bec's honeymoon. So Neal couldn't fly.
Driving was an option, but the lowest pass in the Rockies is 1,000 feet. Exactly what the doctor had told him, well a little over by about ten feet. Had this wedding taken place before such continental shifts Neal would have been able to be there, but as it was he was given a fantastic choice: his sister's wedding or sight. Neal chose sight. Can't blame him.
Time went on, there was a hope for a better prognosis - or that the doctor would say "just kidding!" or Neal would say "just kidding!" but alas, that didn't happen.
But Neal was a groomsman, more specifically my groomsman. I'm taller than him when I wear heels. I'm not tall. He is short. Heck, Becca's taller than him when he's wearing heels.
Somewhere in there someone came up with the idea of a cardboard cutout. Not one to just stand in the corner, but one to stand up at the front of the church while the vows were being read. The groomsmen brought him in on the side and most of the church laughed. Some old women were incensed that Neal was a) not dressed appropriately and b) not facing the right direction... and so the wedding continued. The pastor pronounced them man and wife and I got to escort Neal back down the aisle.
I might add that the very generous Neal paid for the honeymoon suite. Friends of Neal were responsible for getting the room while everyone else was at the Astros game.
The cutout later appeared in the shower.
Incentive Pay
The Chronicle posted my bonus before HISD told me. That means my mom knew before I did, since she reads the news earlier in the morning. Taxes paid for it so its public record.
Yeah, I'm buying the drinks.
Yeah, I'm buying the drinks.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The Test Bank
I have question for my dear readers.
You stumble on the test bank for the trivia game you play for free beer... the test bank also explains why Czechoslovakia is still a country... What do you do with this information?
Hypothetically of course.
You stumble on the test bank for the trivia game you play for free beer... the test bank also explains why Czechoslovakia is still a country... What do you do with this information?
Hypothetically of course.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Lee Soccer
Lee boys soccer kicks butt!!!!!
"The Boys Varsity Soccer Team defeated Pearland 3-0 on Friday morning. Later on that day we went against Klein High School the number 1 ranked team in the state and top in the nation. Our boys played one of the best games of their lives and pour their heart out. We ended with a tied 1-1 and went to shoot-outs. We won 2-0 on shoot-outs. Today Saturday we are going against Langham Creek High School for the finals. Please give your support to these group of guys when you see them. Thanks for everything."
...then we took 2nd place in 5A soccer in the tourney.
"The Boys Varsity Soccer Team defeated Pearland 3-0 on Friday morning. Later on that day we went against Klein High School the number 1 ranked team in the state and top in the nation. Our boys played one of the best games of their lives and pour their heart out. We ended with a tied 1-1 and went to shoot-outs. We won 2-0 on shoot-outs. Today Saturday we are going against Langham Creek High School for the finals. Please give your support to these group of guys when you see them. Thanks for everything."
...then we took 2nd place in 5A soccer in the tourney.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Fortune Cookies
Last night I went to Pei Wei Asian Diner for some grub. It was tasty, though what I really wanted was a fusion of my friend's meal and my own - yellow curry WITH pineapple. It could have been requested easily enough, but that was neglected. Guess I'll have to add curry block to my shopping list.
I like to make Asian food (this process would be known as cooking). I even learned how to make sushi. I don't make it often because to make it worthwhile you have to make a lot. And eat it fast. So, like tapas, I'll save it for parties. But that wasn't the point of my story.
At the end of every Americanized-Chinese meal there are these cute little cookies known as fortune cookies. I tried to make them once, a process that will not likely be repeated in this lifetime. I wound up with these little shells, some burned, some gooey, and some that didn't have space for me to easily add the fortune. Mine hereafter will come in a box. But that isn't the point of the story either.
My fortune cookie read "Your luck will soon change." That's nice. Then I considered, is that a good thing or a bad thing? I consider one of myself to be pretty gosh darn blessed, but is that luck? Is that fortune? Is that divine providence. I believe in luck in card games, but I also believe in strategy. This cookie was no good. A defect. I ate the perfectly glossed prophecy and stole another one.
It really isn't stealing if they are all sitting in a basket by the utensils.
Fortune cookie number two. The one I always get. "You're nice" phrased in some sort of proverb. This time it was "your happy heart brings joy and peace where there is none." That's nice, but not a fortune. Am I going to have to get out my Magic 8 ball?
So I pocketed another one on my way out. "The best times of your life have not yet been lived." That sounds good, considering I like my life and I wouldn't trade it for anything. If its going to get better even better.
This is still legit because it elucidates the first cookie... ambiguity is something that cannot be tolerated in fortunes. Thats why Nostradamus is still on the rack at grocery stores... be vague and you will be wise.
I like to make Asian food (this process would be known as cooking). I even learned how to make sushi. I don't make it often because to make it worthwhile you have to make a lot. And eat it fast. So, like tapas, I'll save it for parties. But that wasn't the point of my story.
At the end of every Americanized-Chinese meal there are these cute little cookies known as fortune cookies. I tried to make them once, a process that will not likely be repeated in this lifetime. I wound up with these little shells, some burned, some gooey, and some that didn't have space for me to easily add the fortune. Mine hereafter will come in a box. But that isn't the point of the story either.
My fortune cookie read "Your luck will soon change." That's nice. Then I considered, is that a good thing or a bad thing? I consider one of myself to be pretty gosh darn blessed, but is that luck? Is that fortune? Is that divine providence. I believe in luck in card games, but I also believe in strategy. This cookie was no good. A defect. I ate the perfectly glossed prophecy and stole another one.
It really isn't stealing if they are all sitting in a basket by the utensils.
Fortune cookie number two. The one I always get. "You're nice" phrased in some sort of proverb. This time it was "your happy heart brings joy and peace where there is none." That's nice, but not a fortune. Am I going to have to get out my Magic 8 ball?
So I pocketed another one on my way out. "The best times of your life have not yet been lived." That sounds good, considering I like my life and I wouldn't trade it for anything. If its going to get better even better.
This is still legit because it elucidates the first cookie... ambiguity is something that cannot be tolerated in fortunes. Thats why Nostradamus is still on the rack at grocery stores... be vague and you will be wise.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Spent
I worked three days this week.
Monday was MLK day, no school. Wednesday was an "ice day." School was called at 5:00AM. I gave three quizzes, played a review game, helped some kids through a worksheet on the New Deal, and showed clips from "Family Man" for my minilecture about opportunity cost. Nothing for me. The double block means my classes are three days apart.
Still, I am spent.
I found out three more of my girls are mothers than I had known, I found out one will be a father in August. Another is about to pop. One of my new fathers never came to school this week, his wife should be at BYU. I know. I had her. I got two kids suspended. One of my kids (17!) is filing for divorce. Four of my students have disappeared, two more reappeared. A third of my students never made it to school this week. I think one of them is in jail, and I'm betting I never see three of them again. I don't have working numbers to dial.
Anyone want to write a soap opera?
They write an "If_, then _" essay on opportunity cost and half of them are about dropping out of school.
Did I mention the newly published statistic that the graduation rate in four years is 17%?
My Model UN club is up to fourteen... we can finally have a Security Council. Somehow I wound up in a debate with the uber-far left kid that seems to think everything is a conspiracy. He seems to think the entire Congress is in a conspiracy against the rest of the world; that Israel should be blown off the face of the planet, and whatever genocide might happen in Iraq should go ahead and happen. All while the child kept looking at me and calling me "the U.S." and "you guys." What in the world is that child watching? I didn't know Al Jezzerra was available on stolen cable. They ate all my peanut butter cupcakes.
My Liberian orphan wants to tell me something, she keeps walking in and out of my class with a look on her face. She's got this grin that she's not sure what to do with. She said she'd buy 40 lollipops because I didn't have change. I'd adopt her if I could.
My New York trip kids are well over halfway to their goal and telling me to buy cookies to pay for my trip... I love those kids.
And that's just school.
Outside of that, I found out one of the guiding lights in my life (though one that encouraged me not to follow in his footsteps, or his wife's for that matter) tried to commit suicide on Christmas Eve. Another woman I know, younger than my mother, mysteriously died after elective surgery. She was fine and forty-five minutes later she was on the floor not breathing... she's got two orphaned daughters now. Another didn't return my phone calls this week... she's in the hospital too. Another friend had her baby and has almost named her after me (heh! did name her after me :-) ), another got engaged... and four others want new jobs.
So I'm going to curl up and watch a movie tonight.
{phone rings}
Er... or hang out with Brenda. :-)
Thanks. That's better.
Monday was MLK day, no school. Wednesday was an "ice day." School was called at 5:00AM. I gave three quizzes, played a review game, helped some kids through a worksheet on the New Deal, and showed clips from "Family Man" for my minilecture about opportunity cost. Nothing for me. The double block means my classes are three days apart.
Still, I am spent.
I found out three more of my girls are mothers than I had known, I found out one will be a father in August. Another is about to pop. One of my new fathers never came to school this week, his wife should be at BYU. I know. I had her. I got two kids suspended. One of my kids (17!) is filing for divorce. Four of my students have disappeared, two more reappeared. A third of my students never made it to school this week. I think one of them is in jail, and I'm betting I never see three of them again. I don't have working numbers to dial.
Anyone want to write a soap opera?
They write an "If_, then _" essay on opportunity cost and half of them are about dropping out of school.
Did I mention the newly published statistic that the graduation rate in four years is 17%?
My Model UN club is up to fourteen... we can finally have a Security Council. Somehow I wound up in a debate with the uber-far left kid that seems to think everything is a conspiracy. He seems to think the entire Congress is in a conspiracy against the rest of the world; that Israel should be blown off the face of the planet, and whatever genocide might happen in Iraq should go ahead and happen. All while the child kept looking at me and calling me "the U.S." and "you guys." What in the world is that child watching? I didn't know Al Jezzerra was available on stolen cable. They ate all my peanut butter cupcakes.
My Liberian orphan wants to tell me something, she keeps walking in and out of my class with a look on her face. She's got this grin that she's not sure what to do with. She said she'd buy 40 lollipops because I didn't have change. I'd adopt her if I could.
My New York trip kids are well over halfway to their goal and telling me to buy cookies to pay for my trip... I love those kids.
And that's just school.
Outside of that, I found out one of the guiding lights in my life (though one that encouraged me not to follow in his footsteps, or his wife's for that matter) tried to commit suicide on Christmas Eve. Another woman I know, younger than my mother, mysteriously died after elective surgery. She was fine and forty-five minutes later she was on the floor not breathing... she's got two orphaned daughters now. Another didn't return my phone calls this week... she's in the hospital too. Another friend had her baby and has almost named her after me (heh! did name her after me :-) ), another got engaged... and four others want new jobs.
So I'm going to curl up and watch a movie tonight.
{phone rings}
Er... or hang out with Brenda. :-)
Thanks. That's better.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
The License Plate Game
For those of you who play and are looking for Hawaii I have a guaranteed place you can pick up Hawaii M-F 8:00-4:00 in Houston, TX.
The newest social studies teacher just moved here from the Aloha state. Who would move from Hawaii to Texas???? To HOUSTON???? In an ice storm? Turns out my work doesn't hire geniuses.
For those of you who don't feel like running by my work to finish the game:
The newest social studies teacher just moved here from the Aloha state. Who would move from Hawaii to Texas???? To HOUSTON???? In an ice storm? Turns out my work doesn't hire geniuses.
For those of you who don't feel like running by my work to finish the game:
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Cooking vs. Baking
I started my online class today. Given that I had a whole day unexpectedly free I felt the compulsion to balance it with freedom as well as giving-freedom-later work. Good thing too, cause my first assignment was due at 11:55PM tonight. They aren't messing around.
Still it wasn't a hard assignment, it was a typical "Hello, my name is Kate. I am a third semester student in SLIS and I teach..." blah blah blah. With the exception of having to fuse the whole thing in with a description of how we ourselves are managers I could have copied it from any one of my other online classes; and thus I began. I typed, figuring 200 word wouldn't be hard to stay under. Three hundred words later (ooops, I guess I'm verbose) I had some editing to do, and a lack of desire to make my piece as flat as all the other entries I'd read so far.
I was successful. One shortcut I didn't take though was lumping together "cooking" and "baking." It is often tempting. Most people would. I won't. They aren't the same. About the only thing they have in common is that they are activities that usually take place in a kitchen and they usually produce products that are consumed orally or thrown down the garbage disposal.
I'm going to steal a couple definitions from Alton Brown:
1) food + heat = cooking
2) food x mixing + heat = baking
You cook stir fry. You bake cupcakes. You cook a lasagna. You bake a cheesecake.
Cooking is a relatively forgiving process. As long as you don't get too crazy with the flavors, add too much heat or not enough you will generally wind up with something edible. You can substitute like crazy. You can use chicken instead of pork, you can use pears instead of apples. People might look at you strange, but then you can just say you got the recipe from Rachel Ray and they will contentedly eat your concoction.
Baking however is not a forgiving process. While cooking is an art and can truly be done with "a dash of this and a dop of that" baking is NOT. Baking is a science. Ignoring a small detail, like leveling mounding cup of flour or packing/not packing the brown sugar can change everything. You might blow up the lab. The ingredients are indeed cheap, but you got to know what you are doing. You can over mix and you can under mix and either can yield holes in the cupcakes or rubbery cookies. Yes it matters if there are large eggs at room temperature. It matters that the butter is creamed and not melted and it matters that you use shortening, margarine, or oil... even if they are all from corn.
Sometimes I feel like a chef. I like the creativity, the art and the tolerance. Things go together, they work out and I can improvise much more. Sometimes I feel like a baker, I like the directions and the rigidity of it. You can't play with it unless you know what you are doing; but when you do know what you are doing the product is much more... sweet. Sometimes I like the big picture. I like thinking about making pesto and noodles but I'm not going to concern myself with all the little details. Sometimes I like the art. Sometimes I like the science, I like being told exactly what to do here and there without questioning or improvising, emerging with Sarah's 4-H cookies. But what I really want to do is make the sweet stuff my own.
Still it wasn't a hard assignment, it was a typical "Hello, my name is Kate. I am a third semester student in SLIS and I teach..." blah blah blah. With the exception of having to fuse the whole thing in with a description of how we ourselves are managers I could have copied it from any one of my other online classes; and thus I began. I typed, figuring 200 word wouldn't be hard to stay under. Three hundred words later (ooops, I guess I'm verbose) I had some editing to do, and a lack of desire to make my piece as flat as all the other entries I'd read so far.
I was successful. One shortcut I didn't take though was lumping together "cooking" and "baking." It is often tempting. Most people would. I won't. They aren't the same. About the only thing they have in common is that they are activities that usually take place in a kitchen and they usually produce products that are consumed orally or thrown down the garbage disposal.
I'm going to steal a couple definitions from Alton Brown:
1) food + heat = cooking
2) food x mixing + heat = baking
You cook stir fry. You bake cupcakes. You cook a lasagna. You bake a cheesecake.
Cooking is a relatively forgiving process. As long as you don't get too crazy with the flavors, add too much heat or not enough you will generally wind up with something edible. You can substitute like crazy. You can use chicken instead of pork, you can use pears instead of apples. People might look at you strange, but then you can just say you got the recipe from Rachel Ray and they will contentedly eat your concoction.
Baking however is not a forgiving process. While cooking is an art and can truly be done with "a dash of this and a dop of that" baking is NOT. Baking is a science. Ignoring a small detail, like leveling mounding cup of flour or packing/not packing the brown sugar can change everything. You might blow up the lab. The ingredients are indeed cheap, but you got to know what you are doing. You can over mix and you can under mix and either can yield holes in the cupcakes or rubbery cookies. Yes it matters if there are large eggs at room temperature. It matters that the butter is creamed and not melted and it matters that you use shortening, margarine, or oil... even if they are all from corn.
Sometimes I feel like a chef. I like the creativity, the art and the tolerance. Things go together, they work out and I can improvise much more. Sometimes I feel like a baker, I like the directions and the rigidity of it. You can't play with it unless you know what you are doing; but when you do know what you are doing the product is much more... sweet. Sometimes I like the big picture. I like thinking about making pesto and noodles but I'm not going to concern myself with all the little details. Sometimes I like the art. Sometimes I like the science, I like being told exactly what to do here and there without questioning or improvising, emerging with Sarah's 4-H cookies. But what I really want to do is make the sweet stuff my own.
Three Sources
I've been taunted recently.
I had a three day weekend for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It was nice, I actually had a weekend. There were rumors, plenty of rumors from news stations and from my fellow teachers that there just might be an ice storm on Tuesday morning that would close the schools and give me a fourth day. I know, I know... I just was off for two weeks for winter holiday. I know a lot of people didn't have MLK off. I know I should be grateful for what I have. I know I like my job. I know... but having the prospect dangled in front of you only to have it rudely taken away by a man on the radio:
"Despite weather predicting freezing rain, sleet, and ice last night the roads in Houston city limits are dry and clear." It was unwelcomed news.
I went to work to enjoy half empty classes. I gave quizzes and passed out worksheets. It was great fun. The kids asked me to check the weather at the end of every class. Thirty-two all night kids, we're teetering on the possibility, but I wouldn't count on it.
Alas I was awakened this morning to hear that within most of Houston city limits there was no ice. That rude man on the radio was giving me information I was prepared to hear. I went to the bathroom and returned to hear the unexpected news "all HISD schools are closed, as well as private schools..." but those didn't matter. The man said all HISD schools. That can't be right, HISD never closes schools for a few ice patches in the city. They'll tell us all to come in, half the kids will have convinced their parents they live in Waller (or something) and they will have failed to turn on the heat. I was supposed to spend my day half-teaching in a parka. HISD never closes schools.
So I check my sources. This is, for instance, the best website on the web right now. Then at six another source came, the HISD automatic phone system called to alert me to my full glee.
Yipeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had a three day weekend for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It was nice, I actually had a weekend. There were rumors, plenty of rumors from news stations and from my fellow teachers that there just might be an ice storm on Tuesday morning that would close the schools and give me a fourth day. I know, I know... I just was off for two weeks for winter holiday. I know a lot of people didn't have MLK off. I know I should be grateful for what I have. I know I like my job. I know... but having the prospect dangled in front of you only to have it rudely taken away by a man on the radio:
"Despite weather predicting freezing rain, sleet, and ice last night the roads in Houston city limits are dry and clear." It was unwelcomed news.
I went to work to enjoy half empty classes. I gave quizzes and passed out worksheets. It was great fun. The kids asked me to check the weather at the end of every class. Thirty-two all night kids, we're teetering on the possibility, but I wouldn't count on it.
Alas I was awakened this morning to hear that within most of Houston city limits there was no ice. That rude man on the radio was giving me information I was prepared to hear. I went to the bathroom and returned to hear the unexpected news "all HISD schools are closed, as well as private schools..." but those didn't matter. The man said all HISD schools. That can't be right, HISD never closes schools for a few ice patches in the city. They'll tell us all to come in, half the kids will have convinced their parents they live in Waller (or something) and they will have failed to turn on the heat. I was supposed to spend my day half-teaching in a parka. HISD never closes schools.
So I check my sources. This is, for instance, the best website on the web right now. Then at six another source came, the HISD automatic phone system called to alert me to my full glee.
Yipeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Teaching the Holocaust: Anecdotes
To teach the Holocaust I usually present to the class the after school special "The Wave" which is based on a true story in Palo Alto, California. I followed this with some (permission granted) film clips from Schindler's List and Life is Beautiful. We discuss mob mentality and look at the poem by Pastor Martin Niemoller:
Sometimes though, I learn a lot more...
My first year of teaching I forgot to explain what being a "Jew" meant and dove straight into the Holocaust. At the end I wound up with some really weird answers: Q: "Why were the Jews targeted by the Nazis?" A: "Because they had that star lookin' thing."
In my first Sociology class one of my sweet Guatamalan students had never heard of the Holocaust. Ever. I gave her Night to read and she tore into it... but she'd never heard of it before. Ever.
One year one of my Bosnian girls couldn't watch Schindler's List. It reminded her too much of the nightmare that had taken her brother and her uncle away. I learned a lot from her relaying her experiences over the three and a half years she was in my classes.
Last year a young man from Syria was in my class. He watched my film clips, he listened to my statistics and my spiel on why Hitler got away with it. The next day he brought me stacks of paper to prove to me that the Holocaust never happened. Ever. "It is fiction" he said and there was no arguing any other way no matter what evidence was presented or textbook it was in. It was all lies, and any further discussion was fruitless... This year his sister is in my class. She's never heard of Hitler or the Holocaust either.
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
Sometimes though, I learn a lot more...
My first year of teaching I forgot to explain what being a "Jew" meant and dove straight into the Holocaust. At the end I wound up with some really weird answers: Q: "Why were the Jews targeted by the Nazis?" A: "Because they had that star lookin' thing."
In my first Sociology class one of my sweet Guatamalan students had never heard of the Holocaust. Ever. I gave her Night to read and she tore into it... but she'd never heard of it before. Ever.
One year one of my Bosnian girls couldn't watch Schindler's List. It reminded her too much of the nightmare that had taken her brother and her uncle away. I learned a lot from her relaying her experiences over the three and a half years she was in my classes.
Last year a young man from Syria was in my class. He watched my film clips, he listened to my statistics and my spiel on why Hitler got away with it. The next day he brought me stacks of paper to prove to me that the Holocaust never happened. Ever. "It is fiction" he said and there was no arguing any other way no matter what evidence was presented or textbook it was in. It was all lies, and any further discussion was fruitless... This year his sister is in my class. She's never heard of Hitler or the Holocaust either.
The channel that called wolf
So it didn't sleet last night, nor did it rain. It might be freezing out, but the world is not covered in ice this morning. Tree branches are still on the trees and powerlines are still in the air.
School is open, at least for today. The problem is everyone hoped it would be cancelled and psyched themselves up for another day in the weekend. We're back, but that doesn't mean the school secretary isn't on the phones saying:
"Yes, the school is open; si, classes hoy," a hundred or more times. Watch the TV folks, listen to the radio... it is your friend.
School is open, at least for today. The problem is everyone hoped it would be cancelled and psyched themselves up for another day in the weekend. We're back, but that doesn't mean the school secretary isn't on the phones saying:
"Yes, the school is open; si, classes hoy," a hundred or more times. Watch the TV folks, listen to the radio... it is your friend.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Poor planning
Tomorrow is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
Tomorrow I'm not working.
Tomorrow they are fixing my boiler.
Tomorrow I won't have any water.
Tomorrow it is raining and maybe starting to sleet.
Tomorrow I'm not working.
Tomorrow they are fixing my boiler.
Tomorrow I won't have any water.
Tomorrow it is raining and maybe starting to sleet.
Tin soldiers and Nixon coming, We're finally on our own...
...This summer I hear the drumming, four dead in Ohio.
To obliterate any confusion:
I have not in fact moved to Ohio and have no plans to do so. I'm actually pretty content right where I am. I am still a history teacher these days, still in the inner city working with a hodgepodge of immigrants. I've never worked for a pet store... I thought it was a funny news story so I rewrote it in the first person.
I was being creative, and I'm not a liar. Sometimes I stretch the truth and spin a few yarns; but I'm a storyteller, not a fraud.
To obliterate any confusion:
I have not in fact moved to Ohio and have no plans to do so. I'm actually pretty content right where I am. I am still a history teacher these days, still in the inner city working with a hodgepodge of immigrants. I've never worked for a pet store... I thought it was a funny news story so I rewrote it in the first person.
I was being creative, and I'm not a liar. Sometimes I stretch the truth and spin a few yarns; but I'm a storyteller, not a fraud.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Stranger than Fiction OR I only wish this had happened to me
Some of you might have heard I recently moved to Ohio. I needed a change in scenery and Ohio seemed like the place to be. I mean, it's the Buckeye State and home to the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and my brothers, the Wrights. I also have some adorable cousins there. So I left the Dirty Third Coast and headed for milder climates.
I don't have a teaching certificate for Ohio, and unlike in Texas they care. So while I'm waiting I decided to just get a job... any job... and the first I picked up was at the Petland here in Cleveland. Boring I know, and certainly not on my FBI agent career path.
My first day on the job I sold a guinea pig and two rabbits. A cat bit me (you want to see my scar, you'll have to come visit me) and I struggled to learn how to net the fish and put them in the little bag. I got good at it eventually, but this job wasn't as easy as it looks.
My second day on the job was the same, though there was a little bit of excitement. A boa constrictor disappeared from its cage. We looked everywhere for it, and I was a bit afraid I'd left the tank opened a crack. I was prepared to be fired. This job really isn't as easy as it looks. Children are much easier to threaten than snakes. Snakes are pure evil. The manager got the golden idea of looking at the security tapes to see if we could find where it went... it was then we discovered it had been stolen. A boy and woman had lifted the boa, the boy put it under his coat while the mother served as a lookout. The boa had no security device and the theft went unnoticed. We filed the report and I didn't get fired.
My third day on the job I sold a couple of toads and another rabbit in the morning. Not nearly as exciting as the previous day. After lunch a boy and his mother came in and asked for a book on taking care of boa constrictors. They looked familiar. Having given them the book they pointed to the now empty snake cage and asked again "this book will help us take care of the snake that was in this tank yesterday, right?" I'm not an idiot; but they are.
I don't have a teaching certificate for Ohio, and unlike in Texas they care. So while I'm waiting I decided to just get a job... any job... and the first I picked up was at the Petland here in Cleveland. Boring I know, and certainly not on my FBI agent career path.
My first day on the job I sold a guinea pig and two rabbits. A cat bit me (you want to see my scar, you'll have to come visit me) and I struggled to learn how to net the fish and put them in the little bag. I got good at it eventually, but this job wasn't as easy as it looks.
My second day on the job was the same, though there was a little bit of excitement. A boa constrictor disappeared from its cage. We looked everywhere for it, and I was a bit afraid I'd left the tank opened a crack. I was prepared to be fired. This job really isn't as easy as it looks. Children are much easier to threaten than snakes. Snakes are pure evil. The manager got the golden idea of looking at the security tapes to see if we could find where it went... it was then we discovered it had been stolen. A boy and woman had lifted the boa, the boy put it under his coat while the mother served as a lookout. The boa had no security device and the theft went unnoticed. We filed the report and I didn't get fired.
My third day on the job I sold a couple of toads and another rabbit in the morning. Not nearly as exciting as the previous day. After lunch a boy and his mother came in and asked for a book on taking care of boa constrictors. They looked familiar. Having given them the book they pointed to the now empty snake cage and asked again "this book will help us take care of the snake that was in this tank yesterday, right?" I'm not an idiot; but they are.
The Wymans
Thanks goes out to the Wymans for being the number one commenters on my blog thus far in 2007. Thanks for giving me motivation to write. For the rest of you people that I actually have met... I'm moving to New Hampshire where they actually know how to drive in the sleet.
What do these have in common?
Group A:
George Washington, Queen Elizabeth II, The Pope, Geraldine Ferraro, Bryant Gumble, Bob Dole, Sandra Day O'Connor, and Archie Bunker
Group B:
Michael Jordon, Bill Clinton, Selena, Rosie O'Donnell, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, Shaq, Demi Moore
Group C:
MLK, Mother Theresa, Mariah Cary, Evander Holyfield, Jesse Jackson, Paul McCartney, Oprah Winfrey, Katie Coric
Group D:
Katharine Gibbs, Bill Gates, Malcolm X, Steven Spielberg, Whoppie Goldberg, Madonna, Jackie Kennedy Onasis, Thomas Edison
I've been meaning to write this, but keep forgetting to bring the little sheet home from school.
According to the "test yourself, know your future" career aptitude quiz all of these people fall into the same "personality group." I happen to fall into Group A "The Golds" and almost as equally into Group C "The Blues." This was fascinating to me as I'm not sure which "The Pope" they are referring to. Seems like they might have some differing personalities. It also surprises me that given a little bit more exercise Archie Bunker could have been a leader of the free world, or at least a clever tyrant.
I think Group B has all had their mug plastered up on a ALA READ poster at some point in time. See Shaq read. Read, Shaq, read.
George Washington, Queen Elizabeth II, The Pope, Geraldine Ferraro, Bryant Gumble, Bob Dole, Sandra Day O'Connor, and Archie Bunker
Group B:
Michael Jordon, Bill Clinton, Selena, Rosie O'Donnell, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, Shaq, Demi Moore
Group C:
MLK, Mother Theresa, Mariah Cary, Evander Holyfield, Jesse Jackson, Paul McCartney, Oprah Winfrey, Katie Coric
Group D:
Katharine Gibbs, Bill Gates, Malcolm X, Steven Spielberg, Whoppie Goldberg, Madonna, Jackie Kennedy Onasis, Thomas Edison
I've been meaning to write this, but keep forgetting to bring the little sheet home from school.
According to the "test yourself, know your future" career aptitude quiz all of these people fall into the same "personality group." I happen to fall into Group A "The Golds" and almost as equally into Group C "The Blues." This was fascinating to me as I'm not sure which "The Pope" they are referring to. Seems like they might have some differing personalities. It also surprises me that given a little bit more exercise Archie Bunker could have been a leader of the free world, or at least a clever tyrant.
I think Group B has all had their mug plastered up on a ALA READ poster at some point in time. See Shaq read. Read, Shaq, read.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Travels
It is possible that between Memorial Day weekend and July 4th I will:
be in New York City twice
spend a week in Mexico
and maybe go to San Francisco
be in New York City twice
spend a week in Mexico
and maybe go to San Francisco
Did you know that the COLD WAR is over?
I'm feeling disenchanted.
Last night for trivia we were given the question:
"What country forms the entire northern border of Hungary?"
I know you all know your eastern European maps fairly well. I know you know the difference between Belarus, Ukraine, Slovenia, Bosnia, and Croatia. I know you know where Hungary is and I know you know Austria. Heck, you probably know all the capitals too.
The answer though, and the only one that would be excepted: Czechoslovakia.
Now what's wrong with this?
That's right. The Cold War is over. The capitalists prevailed (except in North Korea, Vietnam, China, Laos, and Cuba). The U.S.S.R. became Russia and the C.I.S. and there is no Czechoslovakia..
But that is the answer. And some people got it right. Yup. Some people got it right. I know I grade my tests based on the democratic process all the time.
So I'm disillusioned and at a loss for where I would prefer to be on Tuesday nights.
Why am I willing to accept (and expect) that my students don't know the difference between counterfeiting and bootlegging (try explaining that one) and that they won't know that the needles on a watch are called a hand but I'm unwilling to accept that Czechoslovakia. is still a country? Oh yeah, because you LIVED through the breakup of the eastern bloc AND you are a professional trivia guy.
Last night for trivia we were given the question:
"What country forms the entire northern border of Hungary?"
I know you all know your eastern European maps fairly well. I know you know the difference between Belarus, Ukraine, Slovenia, Bosnia, and Croatia. I know you know where Hungary is and I know you know Austria. Heck, you probably know all the capitals too.
The answer though, and the only one that would be excepted: Czechoslovakia.
Now what's wrong with this?
That's right. The Cold War is over. The capitalists prevailed (except in North Korea, Vietnam, China, Laos, and Cuba). The U.S.S.R. became Russia and the C.I.S. and there is no Czechoslovakia..
But that is the answer. And some people got it right. Yup. Some people got it right. I know I grade my tests based on the democratic process all the time.
So I'm disillusioned and at a loss for where I would prefer to be on Tuesday nights.
Why am I willing to accept (and expect) that my students don't know the difference between counterfeiting and bootlegging (try explaining that one) and that they won't know that the needles on a watch are called a hand but I'm unwilling to accept that Czechoslovakia. is still a country? Oh yeah, because you LIVED through the breakup of the eastern bloc AND you are a professional trivia guy.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
It was a poison cup she's drinkin' of, that most forbidden Latin love...
...she had it all but she wanted more,
like Eve and Lucifer before.
For those of you fascinated by this "The Cardinal was a Spy" story that's broken over the last few weeks I thought I'd share a few more church scandals.
The Inquisition
Legend of Pope Joan
Galileo
Benedict XIV as Hitler Youth?
Magdalen Asylum
Johann Tetzel & Indulgences
The Antipope John XXIII
The Children's Crusade
Alexander VI
Thats just a taste and I stayed away from Dan Brown. Sorry.
like Eve and Lucifer before.
For those of you fascinated by this "The Cardinal was a Spy" story that's broken over the last few weeks I thought I'd share a few more church scandals.
The Inquisition
Legend of Pope Joan
Galileo
Benedict XIV as Hitler Youth?
Magdalen Asylum
Johann Tetzel & Indulgences
The Antipope John XXIII
The Children's Crusade
Alexander VI
Thats just a taste and I stayed away from Dan Brown. Sorry.
One week in and...
One of my prayers for this semester was that none of my students would get pregnant/father a child. That's over.
Damn, Sam.
Damn, Sam.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Economics Lesson I
My government class has faded out with the solstice and has risen again transformed into economics. It is possible that economics can explain (most) of the world around us, although sometimes just in probabilities, likelihoods and statistics. How romantic it is.
My first lesson of the new year began with a list of things that my students want and need. We sorted out the difference and then discussed unlimited wants and the problem of scarcity. I told them how when I was their age few students (if any) had cell phones, that the common practice was always to have a couple of quarters. They asked me how old I was and if I wore bell bottom jeans.
We talked about the car phone and the early cell phones, you know... the one my dad has. The one Steve Porbunderwala (ha, I can still spell it!) carried around... the one that was the size of a chiwawa. I talked about the smaller and smaller phones and the more color and the mp3 players and... The Razr (or whatever). They told me that it was now "out" and what was "in" was the chocolat and the BlackJack and some other thing I'd never heard of. One kid has GPS & Google maps built into his...
Now 90% of these kids are on free and reduced lunch. There is a lovely Irish woman at the school that collects coats for them, because they have none. Their SAT and AP tests are paid for, as is night school when they fail the class the first time. And yet... well over 70% have phones that are "cooler" (and more expensive) than mine... and bills to match. They had the Razr last year and now they have whatever new thing is inundating my computer with popup ads and banners. They'll drop out of school because they need to pay their bills... but they aren't really talking about food, water, rent, and electricity.
This isn't all of them of course... but I'm not anxious to do my taxes either.
For further explaination of this concept I recommend Numeroff's economic classic If you Give a Mouse a Cookie.
Another economist note: Thanks to New England for having a mild winter, you are keeping my gas prices down. I think y'all should wear sweaters next year. I'll send you some yarn and we can get to knitting.
My first lesson of the new year began with a list of things that my students want and need. We sorted out the difference and then discussed unlimited wants and the problem of scarcity. I told them how when I was their age few students (if any) had cell phones, that the common practice was always to have a couple of quarters. They asked me how old I was and if I wore bell bottom jeans.
We talked about the car phone and the early cell phones, you know... the one my dad has. The one Steve Porbunderwala (ha, I can still spell it!) carried around... the one that was the size of a chiwawa. I talked about the smaller and smaller phones and the more color and the mp3 players and... The Razr (or whatever). They told me that it was now "out" and what was "in" was the chocolat and the BlackJack and some other thing I'd never heard of. One kid has GPS & Google maps built into his...
Now 90% of these kids are on free and reduced lunch. There is a lovely Irish woman at the school that collects coats for them, because they have none. Their SAT and AP tests are paid for, as is night school when they fail the class the first time. And yet... well over 70% have phones that are "cooler" (and more expensive) than mine... and bills to match. They had the Razr last year and now they have whatever new thing is inundating my computer with popup ads and banners. They'll drop out of school because they need to pay their bills... but they aren't really talking about food, water, rent, and electricity.
This isn't all of them of course... but I'm not anxious to do my taxes either.
For further explaination of this concept I recommend Numeroff's economic classic If you Give a Mouse a Cookie.
Another economist note: Thanks to New England for having a mild winter, you are keeping my gas prices down. I think y'all should wear sweaters next year. I'll send you some yarn and we can get to knitting.
Cupcakes Quiz
Santa gave me a cake pedestal for Christmas, a beautiful glass one. There isn't enough room in the closets to put it away so it must constantly be stocked. Cake pedestals without confections look stupid.
Thus far:
Eggnog cupcakes
Margarita cupcakes
Dreamsicle cupcakes
and Tiramisu cupcakes
Which of these things is not like the other one?
Answer:
Dreamsicle. This is the only cupcake not to have liquor in the cake or the frosting.
Eggnog - whisky & rum
Margarita - tequila
Tiramisu - kalua
An expected effect:
We should have a fully stocked liquor shelf by summer; not just fifteen kinds of bourbon.
A should-have-been-anticipated effect:
Can't take these to Model UN to serve to my Muslim kids.
An unanticipated effect:
My cupcakes were molested sometime in the night by someone trying to replace the lid on the stand.
A totally unanticipated effect:
The girl that hangs around my brother is no longer afraid of me (I'm scary, did you know that?). Sam wrote down his cupcake requests and she looked up the page numbers.
Thus far:
Eggnog cupcakes
Margarita cupcakes
Dreamsicle cupcakes
and Tiramisu cupcakes
Which of these things is not like the other one?
Answer:
Dreamsicle. This is the only cupcake not to have liquor in the cake or the frosting.
Eggnog - whisky & rum
Margarita - tequila
Tiramisu - kalua
An expected effect:
We should have a fully stocked liquor shelf by summer; not just fifteen kinds of bourbon.
A should-have-been-anticipated effect:
Can't take these to Model UN to serve to my Muslim kids.
An unanticipated effect:
My cupcakes were molested sometime in the night by someone trying to replace the lid on the stand.
A totally unanticipated effect:
The girl that hangs around my brother is no longer afraid of me (I'm scary, did you know that?). Sam wrote down his cupcake requests and she looked up the page numbers.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
The problem with Gardner
Today actually gave me a lot of material to work with.
1) Howard Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences.
2) What I hope to be a series of the economics of urban poverty... based on anecdotal studies.
3) The problem of the electricity going out in a classroom with 8" windows.
4) The reason the U.S. has to stay in Iraq is because if we leave half the population of Iraq might be wiped out.
Each of these will be covered in turn... maybe. Or maybe I'll have new material.
Since it came first though, I'd like to share my thoughts on Howard Gardner (not to be confused with Phil Garner):
In essence Howard Gardner believed that all children have some natural ability, and that the traditional school curriculum does not allow all children to foster what he believes is their natural intellegence. Children are encouraged to learn based on their strengths and tricked into learning based by sliding the curriculum into something that a child is particularly interested in... art, music, intrapersonal relationships...
Bored yet? I thought so. Allow me to tell you how primary schoolish this is and how impractical in our current school system. We are given curriculum to teach, tests for the kids to pass, and sometimes we are even told exactly how it is we are going to teach these precious children this curriculum... none of which includes art or music. I have over a hundred kids, I'm lucky to know anything about them... and a struggling kid, well, odds are they have their own kettle of fish to deal with and they don't have the time to spend composing a symphony on the Great Depression or creating a painting of the beaches of Normandy. I'm secondary education in a public school... I'm convinced some of these children can't read, how does letting them paint a picture help them? Are we lying to them if we tell them that they only need to use their gifts?
Anyhoo, that isn't funny so I thought I'd share my experience with multiple intellegence in high school. Likely caused by some sort of sick inservice they made poor Mrs. Hatfield attend.
My junior year of high school I was asked to read Huck Finn. I don't remember having to take a test, though it is possible. I remember the project though. We could do "anything we liked" as long as it had to do with Huck Finn. Among others these were the results:
FIVE MEN COOKING
Five of my classmates wrote a full length southern cooking show (which I actually watched three times given that they kept talking my teachers into showing it in class). In it Mark, Matt, Ben, Matt, and Ben filmed a cooking show in the vain of Emeril where we learned how to: make fried chicken which came in a red and white box, how to make Jiffy cornbread, how to make mashed potatoes (which came in a red and white styrofoam container) and how to toss a salad. It was informative and helped me understand Huck Finn better.
HUCK & JIM'S TOTALLY AWESOME RAFT TRIP
Another video was made in which James Watt (skinny little white kid) played Jim and Tre Lawson (pretty big black kid) played Huck. There was no sound, they acted like they were on a raft. Huck fell off the raft onto his lawn. Jim saved him. The end. It was very informative and helped me understand Huck Finn better.
APPLE STACK CAKE
My project (with my friend Neil) was to make an apple stack cake. It is a traditional Appalachian dessert (yeah I know Huck Finn wasn't in East Tennessee) which my grandmother used to make. The goal is have as many layers as possible and have the whole thing come out flat. It is yummy and difficult. I made mine. I had 18 layers but it wasn't flat. Neil - dyslexic Neil - who couldn't spell to save his life typed the recipe. We got a hundred. I made good cake. I learned a lot about Huck Finn.
Such was my English education. Which explains why I think Aunt Polly's name is Nancy, but definitely not Ruth.
I also turned Julius Caesar into a Dragnet episode while I was on a lot of pain killers for my wisdom teeth. I did an autopsy report and everything. I put a tin foil hat on a Troll to prove to the world I'd read Edith Hamilton's Mythology. I used a Mr. Potato Head doll for Hero of a Thousand Faces; I dressed in Beatnik black for a reading of The Waste Land. We got extra points for bringing in a stoplight.
Funny thing is I actually did read all those books... and more... the only one I skipped was The Awakening. Someone walks out into the sea or something.
1) Howard Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences.
2) What I hope to be a series of the economics of urban poverty... based on anecdotal studies.
3) The problem of the electricity going out in a classroom with 8" windows.
4) The reason the U.S. has to stay in Iraq is because if we leave half the population of Iraq might be wiped out.
Each of these will be covered in turn... maybe. Or maybe I'll have new material.
Since it came first though, I'd like to share my thoughts on Howard Gardner (not to be confused with Phil Garner):
In essence Howard Gardner believed that all children have some natural ability, and that the traditional school curriculum does not allow all children to foster what he believes is their natural intellegence. Children are encouraged to learn based on their strengths and tricked into learning based by sliding the curriculum into something that a child is particularly interested in... art, music, intrapersonal relationships...
Bored yet? I thought so. Allow me to tell you how primary schoolish this is and how impractical in our current school system. We are given curriculum to teach, tests for the kids to pass, and sometimes we are even told exactly how it is we are going to teach these precious children this curriculum... none of which includes art or music. I have over a hundred kids, I'm lucky to know anything about them... and a struggling kid, well, odds are they have their own kettle of fish to deal with and they don't have the time to spend composing a symphony on the Great Depression or creating a painting of the beaches of Normandy. I'm secondary education in a public school... I'm convinced some of these children can't read, how does letting them paint a picture help them? Are we lying to them if we tell them that they only need to use their gifts?
Anyhoo, that isn't funny so I thought I'd share my experience with multiple intellegence in high school. Likely caused by some sort of sick inservice they made poor Mrs. Hatfield attend.
My junior year of high school I was asked to read Huck Finn. I don't remember having to take a test, though it is possible. I remember the project though. We could do "anything we liked" as long as it had to do with Huck Finn. Among others these were the results:
FIVE MEN COOKING
Five of my classmates wrote a full length southern cooking show (which I actually watched three times given that they kept talking my teachers into showing it in class). In it Mark, Matt, Ben, Matt, and Ben filmed a cooking show in the vain of Emeril where we learned how to: make fried chicken which came in a red and white box, how to make Jiffy cornbread, how to make mashed potatoes (which came in a red and white styrofoam container) and how to toss a salad. It was informative and helped me understand Huck Finn better.
HUCK & JIM'S TOTALLY AWESOME RAFT TRIP
Another video was made in which James Watt (skinny little white kid) played Jim and Tre Lawson (pretty big black kid) played Huck. There was no sound, they acted like they were on a raft. Huck fell off the raft onto his lawn. Jim saved him. The end. It was very informative and helped me understand Huck Finn better.
APPLE STACK CAKE
My project (with my friend Neil) was to make an apple stack cake. It is a traditional Appalachian dessert (yeah I know Huck Finn wasn't in East Tennessee) which my grandmother used to make. The goal is have as many layers as possible and have the whole thing come out flat. It is yummy and difficult. I made mine. I had 18 layers but it wasn't flat. Neil - dyslexic Neil - who couldn't spell to save his life typed the recipe. We got a hundred. I made good cake. I learned a lot about Huck Finn.
Such was my English education. Which explains why I think Aunt Polly's name is Nancy, but definitely not Ruth.
I also turned Julius Caesar into a Dragnet episode while I was on a lot of pain killers for my wisdom teeth. I did an autopsy report and everything. I put a tin foil hat on a Troll to prove to the world I'd read Edith Hamilton's Mythology. I used a Mr. Potato Head doll for Hero of a Thousand Faces; I dressed in Beatnik black for a reading of The Waste Land. We got extra points for bringing in a stoplight.
Funny thing is I actually did read all those books... and more... the only one I skipped was The Awakening. Someone walks out into the sea or something.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Cat sitting update (not written in a plea for prayer)
I was over at my friends Luke and Julie's house for a Christmas party, pleasantly petting their cat Honey. Honey likes me in 30 second intervals before he moves onto someone else. It was then that the question arose.
"So Kate, I've noticed you like cats."
(No actually, but it was clear that there was a motive and manipulation behind the statement.) "Yeah, some."
"Would you like to cat sit for us???"
"I can do that." I say this because cats are easy to sit for. I've cat sit for some and never met the cat. See Boris and Natasha, who only left evidence of still being alive.
So it began. I'm the temporary care taker of one Shadow Hockaday, a beautiful black tom cat. I've been over there five times in the last week to take care of him. We kinda had a little bond going. He would eat a little, lie out to get scratched behind his ears. Walk around my legs and smell me. I would think, wow - now why don't I like cats?
I've been in the habit of taking the used litter to the outside trash can, but things changed New Year's Eve. When I went to open the door he bolted out into the dark of the night. I threw out the cat crap, keeping my eyes on the little guy. Then I went to pull him back in. We stalked each other around the house a few times. He clawed at me. He hissed and he clawed again. I went to get bait, he wouldn't come. I went to get a towel to grab him and he was gone, a black cat disappeared into the night. I waited around, he didn't return.
I called a slightly tipsy Ms. Hockaday for advice. There were no suggestions that I hadn't already tried. So I waited a little more, and failing for the cat to return I left some food and water out, and left. I implored our friends and my faithful readers who pray and think happy thoughts out there to some higher power... to pray that Shadow Hockaday wouldn't be the newest dish on the menu at the Road Kill Cafe. I would like the little guy to be sitting on the front porch when I went back in the daylight.
I packed up a kit of things to do when hanging out at the Hockaday's and went back this morning to recapture the cat. Shadow was not sitting on the porch as Ms. Hockaday had projected. I left the front door open a crack and walked around the house looking for a black figure in the bushes. There was none. I reentered the house and settled into read, then there the little guy was pining for attention at my feet. Sweet little bipolar cat.
The next trick was getting myself out of the house without the much faster, smaller, and wittier cat slipping out. I won, but that's another story.
Now I remember why I don't like cats. They aren't easily bribed with food like everything else I seek to control.
"So Kate, I've noticed you like cats."
(No actually, but it was clear that there was a motive and manipulation behind the statement.) "Yeah, some."
"Would you like to cat sit for us???"
"I can do that." I say this because cats are easy to sit for. I've cat sit for some and never met the cat. See Boris and Natasha, who only left evidence of still being alive.
So it began. I'm the temporary care taker of one Shadow Hockaday, a beautiful black tom cat. I've been over there five times in the last week to take care of him. We kinda had a little bond going. He would eat a little, lie out to get scratched behind his ears. Walk around my legs and smell me. I would think, wow - now why don't I like cats?
I've been in the habit of taking the used litter to the outside trash can, but things changed New Year's Eve. When I went to open the door he bolted out into the dark of the night. I threw out the cat crap, keeping my eyes on the little guy. Then I went to pull him back in. We stalked each other around the house a few times. He clawed at me. He hissed and he clawed again. I went to get bait, he wouldn't come. I went to get a towel to grab him and he was gone, a black cat disappeared into the night. I waited around, he didn't return.
I called a slightly tipsy Ms. Hockaday for advice. There were no suggestions that I hadn't already tried. So I waited a little more, and failing for the cat to return I left some food and water out, and left. I implored our friends and my faithful readers who pray and think happy thoughts out there to some higher power... to pray that Shadow Hockaday wouldn't be the newest dish on the menu at the Road Kill Cafe. I would like the little guy to be sitting on the front porch when I went back in the daylight.
I packed up a kit of things to do when hanging out at the Hockaday's and went back this morning to recapture the cat. Shadow was not sitting on the porch as Ms. Hockaday had projected. I left the front door open a crack and walked around the house looking for a black figure in the bushes. There was none. I reentered the house and settled into read, then there the little guy was pining for attention at my feet. Sweet little bipolar cat.
The next trick was getting myself out of the house without the much faster, smaller, and wittier cat slipping out. I won, but that's another story.
Now I remember why I don't like cats. They aren't easily bribed with food like everything else I seek to control.
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