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whip it
Is it possible to feel freedom when u want it. When i do have the freedom it is trapped in a box that i do not take advantage of. As if i can just  capture them and put them away and use them up like a get our of jail free card. As a update..I have been on a break from school..the semester ended...and it is four week break. LUCKAYYYYY.

I used up 2 of my weeks already of being online, watching fantastic-capturistic-movies, a occasional visit from close friends, and finaly i might want to add..i added this 2nd week of non stop working like crazy. I read an essay about a workaholic..i dont want to end up like he did. Even though im young im stuck as always somehow lol. Next week i begin practice of softballage, which is mon thru fri 1:00-4:00PM..and it is supposed to be very brutal. Then after that school starts. yay college.

my life consists of softball, school THEN work. Softball and school and work are my life for now..i put softball and work first then actual school goes after all of them. And its ever obvious that im suffering and wasting time in school with the grades i get and all the dropped classes i have obtained.

softball has always been the main focus in my life, i feel like it has sucked me in and dry. i wanted to succeed in it and make it into a good college, i wanted to show and have a outcome of all the years it took away from me that consisted of hard work and dedication. none of it seems to be paying off. i wanted to be able to prove to all of them that i can be on top because i was always the hardest worker. they went off partying doing drugs having sex..participating in celebrating life asi stayed in working my ass off and shuting myself out from everyone. i lost friends and good times and memories and absolute tru happiness. When does it truly pay off?
im starting to give up this dream and idea i put in my head.

another dream that i need to fulfill...instead of living this life-i need to participate in finding who i am and making up for lost time.
i want to keep writing..but i have to get up in seven hours to work a twelve hour shift.HMMPHF
 
 
   
 

Translation of a NYTimes article on adjuncting

Link.

I’m an adjunct professor, one of hundreds of thousands in an overeducated, unmoored, disposable work force staffing a majority of the nation’s colleges and universities.
Me too.

At the community college where I work, I have no permanent desk or office, no telephone, no benefits and, to many, no name.
Me too, except I have an office and a desk. I do have a name to my coworkers.

When I calculate the time and money spent traveling, grading, answering e-mail, teaching and planning, my wages come to about $9 an hour.
This is true. Adjuncting is low-wage and actually very low-status. I would describe adjuncting teaching as "impersonating a professor."

Each week I read two to three pages from each of them — about C-sections, lost loves, getting beaten up.
This is what I do as well. It's interesting, challenging, and meaningful.

I recall the young man who grew up on a street with a bicycle shop on the corner and was taunted by customers riding near his house, knowing that his parents could never afford to buy him a bike. And the young woman who was caught in gang crossfire, and still carries the scars on her knees from her dive to the pavement.
I recall stories about abortion, murder, suicide, and rape, but also children, family, and love.

I love my students’ lack of pretension, their raw intellect. Messages arrive in my in-box from “hotpinkylady” and “ferretman389” addressed to “Jamieson” — the professor part lopped off, or forgotten. They’re not afraid to tell me that the books and stories we read are dull, or that I’m confusing them.
Translation: these students are not on a very good career track, whether attending college or not. The number of students that overcome their context is frustratingly few. The ability to follow the unspoken rules of the professional setting is the sine qua non of education and career.

When I started at the college, I took it as a personal failure every time a student dropped out. But time and again in students’ lives, the responsibility of caring for young children and elderly parents, or the effort of balancing 50-hour workweeks, outweighed the importance of distinguishing run-on sentences from fragmented ones.
True. This doesn't mean that students' excuses are any more or less legitimate. "Everybody's got a story," as one veteran told me to say to students not doing the work -- and not learning.

Overall translation of the article: Adjunct teaching is fun and meaningful work. Employers humiliate their own faculty with no-benefits, low-wage, contingent work. If you want to be an adjunct, you must either be supported by someone with a "real job" or pray that Congress will soon pass health care reform. Although one's relationship does not change between student and teacher when one is adjunct or full-time with benefits, it is profoundly unwise and even self-destructive to work as an adjunct.

Forgotten in this article is the sea of flakes who are hired and fired as adjuncts -- turnover not unlike Wal-Mart. Higher education's dependence on nonunion, contingent labor lowers quality, employee morale, and betrays the trust students give to colleges and universities. While I love to teach and I love helping people, I am profoundly disillusioned -- and bitter -- with my experience as an adjunct. I feel like I am impersonating a real professor. Higher education's dependence on adjuncts will not soon change, and the number of highly educated people willing to work as adjuncts means that the economics of teaching will not soon change. I need a new line of work, and fast -- one with a living wage and benefits, one where I can provide for myself and my family. A career where I provide a meaningful, socially beneficial service -- but without getting humiliated in the process.
 
 
 

   
Okay, I Believe You, but My Tommy Gun Don't!!!!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009

 Nothing big to report AGAIN (in a good way). Day started out w/ a long talk w/ Nichole : ). She’s so… Nichole. I can’t describe her. I love her. Always very frank, very candid, and no matter what she’s threatening, loves the hell out of her kid(s) and wants what is best for them.

I was complaining that my NY counter-parts are on spring break starting tomorrow because NY gets a week and 2 days for break and we not only don’t get it, we get it a week later so I can’t even stay to visit people. So Parker says ‘So move back’. And I said, ‘I’m trying to’. Then he adds, ‘good, so Cathy and I can move in with you’. Apparently, he did not say ‘in with’ he said ‘next door to’. I told him I would not want to live next door to him because he smells, but he promised me he’d do ‘stupid human tricks’, so I’ll entertain the idea. I’d like to at least MEET Cathy before we share a bathroom, but aw he wants to keep me around. Needs to be able to pick on me at a moment’s notice. Anyway, the point of remembering this is because his offer of ‘stupid human tricks’ reminded me of living in Carlyle junior year and moving in the first day and that random boy across the courtyard doing that poking dance for me. I miss college sometimes.

Today was really pretty easy. They watched the end of Holes until about 9:40, and then decided to cash-in to watch BOLT this afternoon, so very little academically. E told us he’s not coming in on Friday because he’s going to dad’s for the weekend/Easter. He is SO CUTE when he’s excited about something. Love it. I also had a good time eating lunch (well, my banana) in the room with the 2 of them, talking about loose teeth. They’re so cute sometimes. I also have to say that E was amaaaaaaaazing today reading Captain Underpants to A for reading instruction.  He was really nice and encouraging ("you knew that one! Great!"  "what does this one say? look at the first letter") and patient and basically, he won.  There was no contest, but he won.

Yesterday they were ATROCIOUS with 'that's gay' or 'so-and-so is gay because_________', and D was swearing like a sailor (and not, say, a NINE YEAR OLD), but today we didn't have that issue. <3.  Also, A went to sit down on the beanbag where Parker was and Parker had to pretty much JUMP out of the way to not get smushed, and I laughed so hard I fell outta my chair.  In general, though, A was ADORABLE today, singing along to the movie (well, 50% the lyrics and 50% his own). 
 
 
   
 

16 Things About Me
I was going to write 'interesting', but I'd rather just label them what they are, truths, and if you find them interesting, so be it.  This is long, and it took me a WHILE, and I'm actually kinda nervous posting all of it even if most of them are lame and NOT weird, but I'm doing it anyway.  Enjoy as you will. (if nothing else, enjoy the suggested tags:))

-       I am one of the most nervous, least-self-trusting test takers you are ever going to meet.  If a test has an allotted 4 hours to take it, the earliest I have EVER left is 3 hours, 45 minutes in, because I re-check every answer 3 times.  In high school, New York gives out these delicious tests called Regents, which is kind of the end-all for a subject you’ve been studying all year.  You have to stay an hour and a half, have to leave after 3 (and I always stayed ‘til 3).  I developed this great system for the Regents where I’d take it once on scrap paper, once on the test booklet, and if my answers matched, THEN they could go on the bubble sheet.  Stressful for no reason, and probably ridiculous, but for 11-13 tests, that was my system.

-       I really like little white socks.  I don’t know why, but that’s pretty much all I wear in terms of inside-shoe wear.  I think the holiday socks are cute, and sometimes my feet are cold and I have to layer up with thicker, taller socks, but the default is the plain white ones.  Sometimes, I decorate them with Sharpie.

-       I was blessed enough to grow up with 4 sets of grandparents.  My mom’s parents, my dad’s  parents, my friend Tifini’s grandparents, and my friend Jackie’s grandparents.  Obviously, 2 sets weren’t recognized by anyone other than me, my parents, my friends, and them, but I absolutely did have 4 sets. 

-       In all honesty, I’m not a fan of the dark.  I’m not always ‘afraid’, but I don’t like it.  In fact, I can sleep with a TON of light on.  I actually kinda like it better when I can see what’s going on around me (so I KNOW the monsters aren’t there J).  So I can sleep with all the light, but I used to not be able to do noise AT ALL.  Only recently have I been able to fall asleep with the TV on, and that’s when the volume is down to 3 or 4.  What I’ve discovered is really interesting is as I’m going to bed, and I’m going to turn the TV off because my nightstand is right next to my head and I keep the remote there, I can’t remember where the ‘Power’ button is.  Ever.  It’s in the same place every night, and I never can find it.

-       When I was a freshman in college, I used to walk past these people on the street all the time who worked for this company called Children International.  I never stopped for them.  They’d try their darndest, but I felt I was a poor college freshman, how the heck would I ‘sponsor’ a child?  On Earth day, this blonde-haired woman stopped me and talked to me about it.  She said, “What’s 18 dollars a month?”.  I realized I had SO MUCH in comparison to this 18 dollars I’d be sending the adorable girl with the brown eyes whose family made $189 dollars a month.  It’s 22 bucks now, but I keep it up, going on 6 years later.  I carry her picture in my wallet, right in the front.  Rubylyn keeps me humble; she reminds me that it’s okay that I give money to homeless people, that I’ve bought people sandwiches or given away my gloves.  I may be the poorest person I know, but I have so much more than way too many people to be so selfish.

-       I absolutely HATE getting shocked.  Because my hair is so thick and curly, it’s really dry and conducts a lot of electricity, so I get shocked a lot all year round, but especially in winter.  It’s so bad that I actually touch other things to ground myself before I touch things like the car door or a handle I know will shock me. 

-       My foods can’t touch.  Like, if I’m having salad and chicken for dinner, and a leaf of lettuce touches a piece of chicken, both pieces are now inedible.  My dream would be to actually own those plates little kids eat off of with the dividers that make the plate into 3 sections.

-       When I was little, I fell down the stairs and cracked my head open.  Since that point, I am the SLOWEST person going down the stairs.  I used to get anxiety when I was in college about it, because the class buildings were 8-10 stories up and the elevators were too crowded on the way down, but I always felt like I was holding people up as I went down.  I’m the only person I know who would rather walk UP hill or UP a flight of stairs than down either.

-       I haven’t written in Times New Roman since I was in 7th grade.  I think it’s just a terrible font, so I won’t use it.  Not even for professors who would say, “your paper is 3-5 pages, double-spaced, one-inch margins, in size 12 Times New Roman”.  To that I said, “Garamond, size 12 (or 13 in some cases)” and handed it in and NEVER got caught.  SUCK ON THAT, Will Kenton!

-       I don’t like clowns.  A lot of people say that statement, and mean it, but I don’t think any of them have the same rationale.  When I was 3,  my parents, our neighbors and I went to the circus.  A man in a clown suit said he was going into the audience to get a volunteer.  I was sitting on my mom’s lap, and the man took me off, handed me to Lori (the neighbor’s then-wife), and took my mom down.  We have pictures of her wearing a stupid had and banging on the drum, and everyone else there thought it a great time, but my memories of the day were of the marks Lori left in my arms holding me back as I tried to get to my mom, and HATING that clown.

-       The whites of my eyes are actually tinged kinda blue.  They were stronger when I was little, and seem to be fading (I looked up ‘Blue Sclera’ on several websites, and they said that’s normal).  I remember being in my AP Bio class and my teacher telling us about genetics and blue sclera, and how he didn’t believe I had it – he thought I meant I had blue eyes (I don't have blue eyes).  Then when he looked and saw I was right, he made me show EVERYONE; our class, his 2 other classes, the other bio teachers …

-       I haven’t really thrown up since the day before I turned 13.  If  you’re really interested in the deets, I can tell you exactly where I was, what I ate, what sports we were doing after lunch, which counselor tried to rush me to the bathroom…all of it.  But I’m 23 now, and I haven’t thrown up since then.

-       I can crack pretty much every joint in my body.  The usual fingers and toes, neck, and back, but I can also do my ankles, knees, hips, wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

-       My favorite number in the world is the number 4.  That, coupled with some minor OCD-stuff…I like to eat things in 4s, sometimes 8s (because 8 is two 4s).  Either I pick up 4 of an item (pretzel sticks, M&Ms, whatever) and then eat them one at a time, or if the item is small (like skittles), I would eat all 4 at once.  There have been times that only 3 of something is left, and I won’t take them Smiley.

-       I have really small handwriting.  Like, really small.  Everyone who sees it comments on it.  When I was student teaching, one of the ways I used to get my kids to calm down when they were heated was to let them look over my notes and try to decipher what I wrote.  It’s tiny, but it’s neat.  The kids usually can’t read it, but most of them ask me to ‘teach’ them how to ‘write so tiny’.

-       When I was in 6th grade, I was picked on everyday.  This is, unfortunately, not an exaggeration.  I had decided over the summer to grow out my short hair, and that was when it started to change into the curly mess it is today.  It was frizzy, it was huge, and it was an easy target, and from early October until the start of 7th grade, several times a day, I would be teased mercilessly.  I stopped looking people in the eye, just at the ground, but everyday, after lunch, I sat on the staircase outside my homeroom and cried.  There was even a point where it hurt so bad being so hated, I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t want to live anymore.  I never did anything about it (thankfully, it was more the idea of the pain stopping than figuring out ways to make it happen), but the idea was there.  The words people used to put me down are still with me today.  There are some people who used to be my biggest tormentors, and I see them now, and I’m still afraid of them.  They may have grown up and aren’t jerks anymore, but just like I’m still middle-school-me, they are, too.  Most people I’ve forgiven and was even friends with by high school, but there are a handful of boys who just their being near me sends me into a panic.  Whoever says ‘words don’t hurt’ has never been picked on.  Don’t believe that when you call someone a name that it doesn’t kill them, maybe worse than your fist.  I know that people who were calling me hurtful things meant it just for that minute, and wouldn’t have said anything if they knew I’d recall them 12 years later. But they did, and I do.  I’m still so paranoid because of that year.  When I see someone look at me, I assume they’re about to call me something.  When I hear people laughing around me, I assume it’s at me.  When people know that I’m silly and joke around with me, I take a lot of it personally without wanting to.  WATCH WHAT YOU SAY TO PEOPLE.  You never know when it’s going to stop affecting them.  I’ll let you know if what people said to me EVER stops hurting.


 
 
 

   
Just A Short Update!

Today was a good day for me. I'm going to try to type like I have an education. It wasn't raining, I made it to all my classes on time (which was a struggle all in itself), and I did my homework (well the majority of it). But this weekend wasn't good for me, only because of the rain and how I was so terribly disappointed by two sports teams (the Cleveland Browns & The Ohio State Buckeyes- both football). Idk, I guess when you grow up in an environment where football is valued at or above all other sports, you tend to think that way (even if you're me)

 

But I'm concerned about my sleep patterns. I think that because I've had such a habit of sleeping for 10, 12 straight hours a day at home, and now I can't exactly do that here (why do colleges have so many organizations that plan things if they want you to study- it takes time away from that). And I didn't set my phone alarm so I woke up a little bit later than normal, which caused me to miss breakfast. Ewww.

 

And the other day, I was wearing an obama shirt. And quite typically, people asked if I was voting for him. I said, no, I'm not voting for him...and then one response was, really? I thought you all were voting for him. I had to walk away, because I didn't want to say what was on my mind...but you can probably imagine what was. And it's like personally, I feel sorry for the voters this year. The two main platforms are very....shitty, might i say. It's almost like there are two extremes and you're being forced to vote for one or the other. Or you can vote for Barr or Nader or what other third party. LoLz.

 

But besides that, everything has been good for me. Except I lost someone that I thought was a friend (you find out the true nature of people based on how they act when they get a girlfriend/boifriend).

 

So, for the next one

 

 

~Justin

 
 
   
 

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