This semester, however, has been a horrific experience. I have seen so many unsettling things, and I honestly loathe the fact that I have three more school-terms to survive (four, if you count the summer session… and I don’t, just to keep my blood-pressure within normal range).

TL;DR version: If you’re thinking about going to the University of Kentucky, don’t. Do yourself a favor and mark it off your list immediately. If you’re at all interested in reading the reasoning, though… click through.

First, the professors. Out of five professors, I’ve had serious complaints about three. First, the Religion professor. Most of my complaints about this professor are down to personality quirks, therefore, have no real relevance to the University itself. However, I was greatly disturbed when I learned that he was attending a conference in Denver, where he was to present a study of churches in Lexington, KY. What was disturbing about this was the fact that in his presentation, he called Lexington a “Midwestern City”. I was just dumbfounded by this, as Lexington is neither culturally nor geographically Midwestern. Here is a doctorate-holding professional, attending a conference for other professionals, presenting a study which was completely invalidated by this one incredibly obvious mistake. That a professional could misinform fellow colleagues is bad enough — that this person is allowed to teach young adults is just terrifying.

Second, the Gender professor. This one could have been fair enough, even if too much time was wasted with assuming we were all freshers who had never read or written for college before (which, to my knowledge, none of us were). It would have been okay, until she screwed up the scoring on our first exam. Rather than restructure the grading rubric to make up for the mistake, she decided to throw those points she misplaced onto other exams. Where each exam was supposed to be worth 45 points, they were now split 30, 52, and 53. I scored perfectly on the first, and rather terribly on the second… which wasn’t a problem, until you really did the math. My perfect score was worth less than the bad-score I made on the second exam. In expressing my concern, she insulted my intelligence by saying my math and logic were flawed. When I presented her with the math — which proved that her mistake cost me 1% of my final grade — she insulted my intelligence again by suggesting that the numbers didn’t matter. Clearly, if you’re at all interested in getting into grad school, the numbers [i]do[/i] matter. The fact that I was one point’s distance from falling from an A to a B does absolutely matter. The difference between making dean’s list, and not making dean’s list, does absolutely matter. And though I presented a very clear case with valid evidence, she refused to admit to her mistake.

Next, my own dear major, Social Work. I don’t even know where to begin with the class I had this semester. The instructor was a PhD student, so not yet a professional in that regard. However, this should never reflect on a person’s ability to be an effective teacher — I have had a great many student teachers as instructors, and they have been wonderful (my German instructors are a prime example). I assumed that this instructor had no previous experience, and was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt as I struggled to understand how she could make such a convoluted mess out of relatively simple concepts. That is, until the results of our midterm exams came back. I received rather good marks on that exam (45 out of 50), but the rest of the class did not fare so well. People were pissed. People were crying. People were giving up. People marched right up to the COSW and lodged their complaints — which were at best ignored, or at worst, twisted around to reflect badly on on the students, rather than the instructor. After drafting a long letter of complaints, and gathering signatures, the instructor changed her tune. Class improved. Our grades recovered, thanks to a rather drastic extra-credit scheme. We were feeling much better, and became much more firm with the instructor when we were not clear on how to decipher her horrible syntax. Then, with finals drawing near, she did it again. Though it says on the syllabus that the final exam would be open book, she told us that only two pages of notes would be permitted. Next, she told us it would be open book only, no notes. Then she said the first half would be closed, and the last would be open book, open note. Then she went back and changed it again, saying the entire exam would be open book only, no notes. Just as soon as we thought we had a handle on what was going on, she changed it, and made it clear that we were being unreasonable when we expressed our frustration with being jerked around. It is clearly our problem, not hers.
Thankfully, this instructor has been taken out of core-curriculum teaching. Unfortunately, though, she is still teaching next semester. I am terrified for her future students.

Finally, as I am meeting more people who have graduated from this university, I am more and more disheartened by their total lack of knowledge in their respective fields, their inability to accept any new ideas, and their lack of respect for current students who challenge the status quo. I’m currently engaged in a rather heated argument with an old Marketing major, trying to explain to him how social media marketing works, and how his expectations in a certain marketing ploy are entirely inefficient. It’s just… frustrating to see how badly this University has failed its students. Frustrating to see that this tradition of failure has been part of the university for 30+ years. Every time something like this happens, I am made more ashamed of my choice to place geographical accessibility so high on my priority list.

I wish, from the bottom of my heart, that I had listened to all the people who told me that I needed to go somewhere else. I wish I had made my education the real priority. I wish I had made the bold choice to find a place where I was not in a constant state of culture shock and toxic disappointment. But here I am, three terms left (we’re still not counting summer, for the sake of my sanity), stuck. Stuck wondering and worrying if anyone can take a degree from this place seriously. God knows I wouldn’t. I really, really wouldn’t.

I hope this is the end of the whole “Johnson” debacle, because the next time this happens, I’ll likely be carted off to jail for defacing a mailbox.

The news of the day isn’t all bad. I finally got around to dropping by sQecial to pick up a carton of cloves. I really wish I could’ve bought a second, but hopefully we’ll find a friendly overseas supplier before we run out entirely.

Final grades are all in.  Two As and two Bs.  Not what I hoped for, but about what I expected.  Actually, if we can be honest here, I expected to do much worse than a B in German, considering just how much I slacked off after midterm.  Actually, I slacked off pretty freakin’ badly in all my classes after midterm.  Half of my SW lectures were slept-through or missed altogether, and I generally skipped Micro when I missed SW.  Didn’t finish required reading in Ecology.  So I should be very satisfied with what I got, and extremely frustrated at how much I didn’t do in order to get those marks.

I could be a better person if I just tried at it.

So now all I have to worry about are the holidays.  I’m still trying to figure out what all I need to pack.  It’s sort of strange that the less I have to pack, the more confused and flustered I get with it… constantly feeling as if I’m forgetting something.

Clothes? Check.  Chargers? Check.  Tits?  Double-check.

I just hope some of the drama simmers down for the holidays.  The forum for which I serve as an admin has had two punches over the last few, one very recently in the way of an article filled with copious amounts of misinformation and flat-out ignorance that directly quoted from us out of context, so I’ve been lurking pretty heavily and trying to put my best-face-forward on that front.  It’s all fun and cupcakes til you realize there are people out there who derive some perverse sense of joy from belittling a peaceful spiritual community.

I’d wager these are folk who try and pretend they didn’t see the Salvation Army bell-ringers when they walk out of a store.  Or worse, pretend they can’t afford to spare a dollar when they’re carrying out $500 in merch for their ungrateful brat-children.

And finally, how wrong is it that 800 miles of latitude separates two temperature ranges by 50F?  Words cannot describe the frustration.

Speaking of transgender issues, November 20th is Transgender Day of Rememberance.  An email was sent through the OUTsource circuit with names, CODs, and their dates, with a link to the case of Duanna Johnson. Reading about her attitude, pride, and defiance against the local po-po made me smile… but of course bit at my sides to know that such wit and strength was wasted, stolen, and destroyed for no good reason.  That I have friends that could meet the same fate for the same reasons absolutely terrifies me… it makes me sick to the heart and head to know I live in a world where people I love are in such danger…

Last on my big gay agenda: HOLY SHIT I NEED TO WRITE MY SW PAPER.  Due first thing in the morning.  I suppose, with all this, I should be able to write easily on why the GLBT community needs advocates in the field of Social Work, but ease isn’t as much an issue as time.  I can’t even start on that til I whip out my German homework, which is due tonight at midnight.  There isn’t enough coffee in the world to save me.

Three more days to plow through before my flight out to Tamparrrrgh… two more class days.  Once I get this paper done, it’ll be a breeze.  A breeeeze right into Kev’s warm, strong, loving and very nommable arms.  Arms and hands and smile and gaze and LEIJFLIJGLEIRIEWK!!!1  I start thinking like that, and three small days seem like three months of time between.  Hurry hurry.  I mean, after I get to sleep tonight, hurry.  I don’t mind having the time to wait while I need it to do class-things, hah.
Mmmm… ahhhh.  AAAHHH!!

Good news is that I’m only really missing one lecture next week, since everyone else pretty much decided to cancel classes on Monday and Tuesday.  German still meets, but it’s a “fun day” where Lissi has decided to have a Q&A and teach everyone to curse in German.  On the one hand, I’m glad I’m not missing testable lecture.  On the other, GODFUCKINGDAMMIT that’s what I wanted to know most!! XD

I realize I’ve been rather hypersensitive over the last few, but I think this would grate my nerves under the swellest of circumstances.  Maybe not to this extent… the extent of thinking of changing schools or perhaps even major… if I am indeed going for my Master’s, why not just do Psychology?  The only reason I decided on Social Work was so I could find BA-level employment, after all, where a BA in Psychology would have me as good as flipping burgers.  BUT… yeah, that’s something to think about when I’m not so hypersensitive and pissed off at the world.

Then again… maybe I should consider it before I commit myself to potentially useless classes next semester.

Not sleeping wasn’t an excuse to sleep in, though.  So I get up, roll out, and hit campus by ten-after-eleven, have a smoke and a sit-down before going down to the OUTsource.  Chatter a bit, then I’m left to man the station til one… and it’s three before anyone shows up again.  I missed my class (a rather critical pre-exam review), and was quite displeased with this until I shrugged and decided it wasn’t a big deal.  It probably isn’t a big deal.  I don’t see myself having any trouble with the exam… *shrug*

What did upset me, however, was the fact that I didn’t have to miss the class… if I had just been put on the key list, I could’ve locked up and went to class.  And if I am on the key list, it would’ve been nice to have been informed.  I’ll just have to make certain to have a chat about this before next week.

But you could decide to see the good in it, which was: I clocked three of four required volunteering hours for my SW class.  Tuesday next week will have it covered.  Sweeeeeeet.  And I put a dent in my Micro (the class I’ve been doing the best job of slacking in).  As to what’s left… the rest of Micro, and my SW paper, which I’m not clear if it’s due Tomorrow or next week.  Cos of lost my fucking syllabus.  Haaaaay I’m smart *facepalm*

In short, today has been mostly unproductive, but not entirely fail.  I guess that’s somewhat “win” but not really.  Perhaps maybe?  Almost certainly.

Point A… hai doodz, the economy was a problem long before WaMu took it up the ass.  We’ve been saying it for ages, and what did you fellas up on Capitol Hill do?  Basically, told us we’re all insanely paranoid and there’s nothing wrong.  “Recession?  What recession?  Stop talking like you know anything and go back to studying your navels.”  Which I found mildly annoying.  Then everyone else starting catching on, and I’m wondering what took them so long to figure it out.  And now, it’s an overnight “crisis”.  Now it’s finally being taken seriously (and taken as if it’s all their idea, and we said nothing while we were suffering down on “main street”).  And I find this highly fucking offensive.

And what got us here?  The government’s unwillingness to discuss these topics openly… the idea that if you ignore a problem, it will go away.  Which brings me to point two: McCain’s ribbing Obama about open-ended talks with other world leaders that may have policies that we find unsavory.  Question, McCain: How is it that refusing to talk to someone until they agree to our terms encourage them to agree to our terms?  How are we supposed to work things out unless we talk openly?  The “my way or the highway” does not work.  “Surrender or we’ll fuck you up” does not work.  On a micro level, taking a small-scale hostage situation into consideration, that approach is a fine way to come up with a handful of dead hostages.  On the macro level where world-powers with nuclear-powers are concerned, well, you get the picture.  Yet if we make the effort to come face to face and discuss the matters at hand as real people, with flesh and breath rather than faceless demands in confusing documents, you come to better understandings.  Again, on a micro level, evidenced with my online/offline experiences with people.  It’s much easier to argue your point, and much harder to be cocky when you’re dealing with an actual person rather than faceless ideas.  Does that work in world politics… well, I’m not sure, but I do have the crazy idea that politicians are human, and it works on humans.

As far as open-talks giving the impression that we agree with opposing viewpoints… I still don’t see where that idea comes from.  Sorry, it’s just ridiculous to me.  Someone explain how diplomacy is the same thing as saying “dude, I so agree with you”, eh?  I don’t know about you guys, but I know there have been many times where I’ve had to sit down with people I did not agree with at all just for the sake of getting their side of the story, calming them down, and hoping to find some sort of resolve that would, at least temporarily, bring some peace on both sides of the fence.  I’d say most of us have done that sort of thing.  It’s not a bad strategy… and in some cases, it’s the only strategy.  You have to be willing to grit your teeth, swallow the bile, and be civil.

There’s also the energy crisis issue.  Energy independence, ra!  Which I agree with.  Something has to be done about that.  I, for one, would love to see shitloads of windmills thrown up around the country.  We’ve got us some real wind-tunnels, peeps.  Stand out by the POT on campus and you’d know what I’m on about.  Solar energy?  Good, let’s go for it.  Ethanol… retarded and inefficient, seeing as it takes 1.3 gallons of petrol to make 1 gallon of ethanol.  Scrap that idea right out, folks.  Offshore drilling?  Sure, if you want to wait til 2030 to see any benefit from it, if we see any at all (consdering that oil could easily be sold overseas), and fuck an already volatile marine ecosystem.  Nook-yoo-lar… right, call me old fashioned, but I’m not keen on the idea that McCain seems to be pushing.  Not that the idea of nuclear itself is bad.  It is cleaner and safer if done correctly, but pardon me if I refuse to believe it will be done correctly, with all the Homer Simpsons that really DO exist in the good ol’ US of A.  Besides that, since we are still a “Nevar Forget!” nation, imagine the destruction that could be done if we had 45 more targets on our backs.  If someone can plane the Pentagon, there’s no reason they can’t take out some power plants.   Yeah?  Yeah.  Amazing how so many people say “nevar forget!1!” and yet… they do.
Then again, if they really gave a shit about targets on home ground, the gubment might stop cramming their thumbs up their asses about the accident-waiting-to-happen in Richmond.

FInally, I’ve heard it so many, many times already… that McCain didn’t look at Obama even once.  Which I understand, considering his limited mobility.  I doubt severely that it was personal… dude just got fucked when he was a POW.  Although it does make me think of how great it would be to see McCain cut loose and do the robot.  It’d be hi-larious.  You know it would.

Now, now now now… we have the VP debate to look forward to.  I, for one, will love the chance to see Palin go all, “duhhhhh, whut?” again.  She wouldn’t be so bad if she would just stop talking.  Just stand there and look pretty, Tits… c’mon.  That’s really all you’re good for here.

On the subject of holiday bliss, though… I’m faced with the feeling of not even wanting to be around here for Christmas.  It’s rather odd… every other time I’ve tried to be away for the holiday, I’ve failed miserably (then again, the circumstances for which I was being away were pretty fucking fail, too).  But now, the very thought of being all ha-ha-happy-christmas with fresh young SNERTy attitudes makes me feel rather ill.  I know, yes, I was the same way at one time, but for the moment, in my bitter elderly cane-shaking fury, I must say I think teenagers are only good for one thing: asking me “would you like to try a combo meal today?”

Maybe my mind will change with time, but the idea of just getting a hotel room and declaring it “Fuck All” Day sounds mighty fine.

Tomorrow is gonna be a busy one, too.  Last minute details.  Oh, how I hate those last minute details!

Something a bit more worthy of noting, though: I ran into someone I knew last weekend while I was having dinner with Sylver (by “having” I mean “I watched her eat”). I didn’t even recognize her, and didn’t believe her when she told me who she was… but yeah, we started talking, and she explained to Sylver that we used to go to the same church with all the rich kids and blah blah blah about how we never fit in cos of sweet country bumpkins.  My initial thought was to laugh at her, because I remember occasions where she got in on the “Everybody Make Fun of Becky” campaign… but thought otherwise, because perhaps what she said was true, and she was only doing it to try to fit in with a crowd that wouldn’t take her in anyway.  In that instant, I felt for her.
Felt even more when she commented how funny it is that most of those kids now are leading pretty miserable lives, and we’re actually happy with ours.  It’s rather nice to have someone from my youth recognize this…
Then retracted when she said she had six kids.  Two from her past, two from her husband’s past, and two together.  “We’re like some kind of Brady Bunch,” she chuckled.  “Not quite what my mother would’ve wanted, but that’s just life these days.”  I couldn’t help but smile at that.  “I do enjoy the chaos,” she admitted.  No speech about how motherhood is great, her calling, her one true joy in life.  She just remarked on the chaos and smiled a simple, genuine smile.

I’m just pleased to know that some people from the tribe managed to come out of their youth with some brains left to their name.  May not be my cuppa, but her happiness was as genuine as mine, so I couldn’t knock her path if I tried.  Rare thing ’round these parts.  ‘Round the world in general.  I’ll have my little Catcheresque moment and spit at how entirely fake people are, smiling in public but praying for death every time they close their eyes… selling their lies to you to convince them that yes, they really are happy — happier than you, even –  leading people into believing that this MUST be the way to live… never realizing how big of a lie it was until they step through that door and figure it out for themselves.  Pretty painted-up misery that breeds with every false word and forced smile.

But there are some good people left… there is still reason to hope.

People talk about the online community as if it’s the new reality, the better world, bridging gaps and connecting people all around the world, when in reality, it’s (in some ways) much worse than the reality we have.  And this really makes me all sorts of sick inside.  I hate how easy it is to get big-pants syndrome around here… and how compelled one feels to vehemently defend their entirely imaginary position in cyberlife.  This isn’t what it’s supposed to be, is it?  Or has my brain been entirely rotted by cyberculture idealism?  Because I used to believe in this place once.  I used to believe The Open Forum would be a beautiful idea, where we could meet and exchange ideas as mature people.  But all I generally see are immature fucktards with bad grammar, and the equally immature “educated idiots” flaming the hell out of them, laying waste to whatever claim to “intelligence” they may have had before.

God, I just want to punch you in the face sometimes.

…eh, see?  I guess I’m not much better.
Just a product of my (e)nvironment.