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Why Grad School Ruined My Life (and Made Me Fat)

May 2, 2011 By Dashing Gray 4 Comments

I know, I know. A higher education is supposed to open doors. More degrees = more opportunities, and all that. And since I am someone who in fact works in higher education, I must believe in it, right?

The answer is yes it does, and yes I do. I definitely wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for my master’s degree, and the fact that I have one at all is a great point of personal pride.

But tell that to the 15 extra pounds I packed on—and still haven’t lost—in year one of grad school.

Grad school, though great for intellectual development, is not exactly the prime place to optimize one’s girlish figure. Major stress + no free time + a billion late-night caramel lattes is not a good combination. Oh, the love-hate, addictive relationship I have with those lattes.

And then there’s the actual content of those grad-school classes. Grad programs, particularly those for Higher Education, are all about sensitivity to diversity and personal identity development, so most classes become sociological debates. Combine two years of this as a full-time student with a year of GA-ship in the Women’s Center, and you develop this near-constant, uber-feminist, damn-the-man, “what do you mean when you say ‘gay’?” mental feed that is very hard to turn off. Super Bowl beer commercials aren’t advertisements, but the misogynistic media oppressing women (and what does that body wash commercial say about men’s identity development?). Pop culture vampire movies are blatant demonstrations of white privilege. And can you believe the lies that Disney sold us as children?

You want to see my inner social-justice crusader go ape? Try suggesting to this 20-something, master’s-holding, recently engaged (after much related overanalyzing) individual that it’s selfish for a woman not to have children.

Yes, life was much simpler—albeit suckier—before grad school. When you’ve been constantly exposed to those kinds of debates, it’s really hard to just turn them off. I overanalyze everything. And you, dear reader, usually get a taste of that inner insanity in this blog.

The latte habit isn’t easy to kick, either.

Filed Under: Humor, Misc, Opinion, Politics

Outrageous

December 21, 2010 By Amie Kus Curie 2 Comments

A lot of people are outraged over the TSA’s new Scylla/Charybdis policy (for those of you less schooled in the Homeric classics, the modern term is Rock/Hard Place, even though Charybdis was a whirlpool monster thingy and not at all a “hard place”) where the damned-if-you-do choose to have naked pictures taken of them and the damned-if-you-don’t get to third base with a stranger. Good times.

I, personally, am not outraged over the whole thing. I’m certainly not okay with it – it’s a huge waste of time and money, and is utterly ineffective at making anybody actually safer. But I’m not outraged. I’m glad other people are, and I will never ever tell them to stop being outraged over it, though many people seem to be doing just that. But I’m not outraged.

There is only so much room for outrage in a functioning person, to be honest. I can’t spend my entire life being outraged over every little thing. First, it takes up too much energy that is better spent living. More importantly, if you are outraged over everything, how will people be able to tell which times are the most important? Basically, if you’re angry about everything, you’re also truly angry about nothing.

My outrage lies elsewhere. I am full of outrage, directed at tons of different sources.

I am outraged that consenting adults are not allowed to enter into the legal relationships they wish to enter.

I am outraged that our government (elected by us) and our free press (supposed to keep our government accountable) keep lying to us, all the time.

I am outraged that our country and many of our states kill people who commit crimes.

I am outraged that we haven’t figured out a way to rehabilitate people and allow people who did wrong to safely reenter society, free from stigma.

I am outraged that capable members of our armed forces are being discharged, even if they didn’t tell.

I am outraged that somewhere along the line, education became a liability and science is disregarded in favor of fairy tales.

I am outraged by prejudice and how pervasive it seems. I am especially outraged by anyone who insists that prejudice is no longer a problem (or never was).

I am outraged people go to bed every night without enough to eat or a safe place to sleep. I am outraged that children are beaten and molested. I am outraged that nobody seems to care any time of year except now. I am outraged that schools aren’t safe or useful, that parents don’t help the schools anymore. I am outraged that our literacy rate is declining.

I am outraged that children are blamed and punished for their parents’ crimes.

I am outraged that women are treated as incapable of making intelligent decisions about their own lives.

I am outraged that religious people use their faith to do harm to others, whether with good intentions or not.

But outrage is exhausting. And it is easy for me — siting here at my computer in a warm building after a full night’s sleep with a full stomach and a paying job and health insurance (and dental and vision) and a legal federally-recognized marriage and voting rights and no worries about where my next meal is coming from or what I’ll be forced to do to sleep safely — to forget my outrage and continue in complacency.

But without outrage, nothing will ever progress. And that would be the biggest outrage of all.

Public domain image.

Read more from Amie on her personal site here.

Filed Under: Opinion, Politics

Awareness is dumb. Try action.

December 14, 2010 By Amie Kus Curie 13 Comments

About a year ago, somebody sent me a message on Facebook. “Change your Facebook status to the color of the bra you are wearing to raise awareness for breast cancer. Forward this to all your women friends, but DON’T TELL ANY MEN WHAT YOU ARE DOING.”

…Because nothing says “awareness” like “secret”.

This year, it was changed up to suggest that women should update their status to say where they like to keep their purse. Except they should make it say “I like it __________” and nothing else, and again, secret from the menfolk.

Most recently, someone determined that we could all raise awareness for child abuse by changing our profile pictures to a cartoon we liked as children. Suddenly, my feed is full of Mickey Mouse and Charlie Brown. Sure, it’s better than a MySpace-style picture of yourself from a camera that you’re holding high above your head, but not much.

I have two major issues with these campaigns. First off, if you don’t get the message about why people are changing their status or picture, it does nothing for awareness. I noticed after the bra color debacle that many men were very curious about what the colors were for – so I changed my status to suggest that people donate money to a breast cancer organization rather than putting up the color of their bra in secret. Of course, I was promptly chastised by a female friend for letting men in on the secret. So much for awareness.

My second problem, and the much bigger problem in my estimation, is that awareness is meaningless. Sure, we’re all AWARE that breast cancer exists, that it’s probably not much fun to have, and that it kills people. We’re all aware that some children get abused. But so what? Big freaking deal. I’m also aware that it’s cold in Chicago in December.

Awareness does nothing. Being aware of a problem is not at all the same as creating a solution. So while we can all wear a pink ribbon for the month of October, or a yellow plastic bracelet, or plaster bumper stickers all over our cars, the problems still exist. There is still cancer. Children still get abused. All you’ve done is reminded us for a minute or two that it happens.

Instead of being aware, why not do something? I know it takes quite a bit more work than googling pictures of Mickey Mouse and changing your profile picture. It might cost a little money or time. But why not give some money or some time to a cause you care about? I promise there is one out there for you. Be part of the solution.

Image property of Amie.

Read more from Amie on her personal site here.

Filed Under: Opinion, Politics Tagged With: activism, awareness, facebook, truth

Freedom gropes

December 3, 2010 By BeaTEP 3 Comments

I’ve had really bad travel luck lately. Mister Me and I bought an all inclusive to Riviera Maya and crapped out with flights that had alternately too long and not long enough layovers. There is very little more frustrating than trying to convince a Customs agent not to send you through extra screening just because your flight started boarding before you de-planed.

Or so I thought.

Until I showed up at O’Hare yesterday. Of course, the security lines were endless. But, us business travelers, we know how to get through security at lightning speed, so I wasn’t worried.

Then I got pointed towards the full body scanner.

I saw those damned things on the Today Show. They digitally scrambled people’s naughty bits because the scan that thing spits out is not suitable for TV, y’all. Which means its also not suitable for some high school drop-out with a TSA badge. At least not when it comes to my body.

But I’d heard about that guy who tried to fight it and ended up with an $11k fine. So I sucked it up and submitted myself to the degrading visual undressing I usually associate with construction sites.

So fine, some guy is probably getting his jollies off to my rack in some clandestine TSA wank-it room. I can compartmentalize that thought long enough to get through the day’s meetings.

But no. TSA was not done with me yet. A female agent waved me through for a pat down.

I’ll let that sink in.

Yes, after a scan so detailed they can tell the current state of my brazilian wax, the TSA is still not convinced that I’m not packing heat. They were passing me around like the drunken coed at a frat party.

Faced with the choice between getting felt up or making a break for it and getting tackled and possibly tased, I swallowed my pride and let this lady cup my breasts. She seemed to take her job pretty seriously; she cupped tightly and rubbed in both a clockwise and counter-clockwise direction. And she didn’t even use the back of her hand.

I debated asking her if I could count that as my monthly self breast exam. I debated speaking to a supervisor, for at least an explanation of how I warranted both a nakey-Xray AND naughtier touching than I allow on a third date (humor me). I debated making a scene. But in the end, I shame-facedly collected my purse and continued to my gate.

TSA, you have won. You have bullied me into resignation. There is simply no other option. You may look at my lady parts, you may touch my breasts and you may demand that I submit with no more than a murmur.

But I’m raging inside.

Filed Under: Misc, Opinion, Politics

Fall is more than a trip to the pumpkin patch.

November 1, 2010 By Fabulously Awkward 4 Comments

It would be rather difficult to ignore this time of year. The leaves are turning colors more burnt orange, more goldenrod and definitely more brilliant than any crayon. The smell of bonfires and the chill in your cheeks seem to pervade your senses the instant you walk outdoors. Plans are made to visit the nearby apple orchards where cider donuts are available by the dozen. Pumpkins adorn every other doorstep in the neighborhood along with spooky Halloween decor. Light sweaters are pulled out of storage along with caramel-colored tall boots and scarves. We order Pumpkin Spice Lattes with reckless abandon.

Sigh. Election season, right? Oh. You thought I was talking about autumn. My bad.

As November 2, 2010 draws near, campaigning begins to assault all of our senses. Morning news is no longer a way to check weather, traffic or pertinent local stories. It becomes a mess of increasingly nasty advertisements aimed at pointing out every little flaw of the “other guy.” Cell phones go off all day, ringing with volunteers asking, “Can I count on your vote?” or “Will you be participating in early voting this year?” Other campaign volunteers have papered local storefronts with posters not-so-subtly reminding anyone passing by that “Joe Election” is running for governor.

While I do understand the need for campaigns, I feel that each year I get more and more confused as to who would best represent my needs, or even better, the needs of our community. However, this year I am quite clear which candidate lied about being in the military and which candidate wants to mess with some senior citizen’s social security.

While I fully intend to exercise my civic duty and vote (“Yes, Victor Volunteer, I will be participating in early voting”), I feel that campaigning has gotten out of hand. Gone are the public declarations of making our city, our state or even our nation a better place for us to live. The candidates would rather smear their opponents in public. At this point, I’m at a loss of who will be the person person for the job, no matter the political party. I am having a difficult time deciding which name to touch on my touchscreen ballot. Decisions, decisions.

Perhaps I will get into my little booth and say, “Screw it, I’m writing in candidates!” Maybe I will vote for the gentleman I saw outside the courthouse this morning wearing his finest white suit topped with a black tank top. Not just any tank top, this one was snugly fit and adorned with an ironed-on photograph of him near his bike imploring you to write-in his name for Governor. One must admit, this is an intriguing marketing campaign (maybe even more so given Illinois’ track record of Governors). I didn’t hear him bashing any of the other gubernatorial candidates either. Rather, he was just politely approaching people near the courthouse and suggesting that they all write his name in on the ballot. Sadly, I suspect it is a fruitless method of campaigning. (Despite enjoying his efforts, I will not be voting for the “Tank Top on Top of a Suit Coat” party.)

Good luck to all voting in the Illinois election tomorrow. Obviously, we have our work cut out for us in the voting booth. However, please don’t let this deter the voting. Do a little research beyond listening to the atrocious television ads, and get to the polls. You can get your Pumpkin Spice Latte after voting.

My name is Fabulously Awkward and I approve this message.

Visit Fabulously Awkward’s personal site here.

Filed Under: Motivate, Opinion, Politics Tagged With: Campaign, Election, fall