moved to another site

moved to www.ohmysaab.com

CSS can kiss my A-S-S

I have spent more than 10 hours this week just trying to change the FONT COLOR on this domain that I purchased on a whim. Holy sheet. And you know what? It’s still white.

Check out my hard work at www.thatredsaab.com

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.”– George Eliot

Math test corrections and test habits

In high school, a page full of corrections with x’s used to be the worst and most embarrassing thing that a teacher could ever write on a test or paper. I recall this happening often in AP Biology where I failed a majority of the tests. I thought that this was the worst it could get and soon I became immune to it.

However, after spending several years in a major that I care little about, I have come across something much worse than x’s: the question mark.

 The question mark is the professor’s expedient way of saying WTF on paper without making it too obvious and hurtful. I say this because I’ve also done the same when correcting ESL writing samples. A sentence like “The monkey eated bananas and had to do a pee” justifies the use of a question mark. So, when a professor gives me one on a test, I try to see it from his point of view:

Professor: “Hmm. Okay, it clearly seems that she doesn’t know what the answer is since she rewrote the question to fill up space. Oh, but wait, there’s a little more written… oh it’s just the question restated using symbols to replace the words. Where the heck is the answer? This deserves a question mark.”

And for the times I don’t write just the question-

Professor: “This isn’t an answer. This doesn’t even make sense. Why am I even reading this? QUESTION MARK.

As much as I love partial credit, at times, I leave the answer section blank for the the teacher’s sake. But then I have nothing to do for the 2 hours allotted for the test and I don’t want to leave early because the professor will ask me questions like, “Oh, was the test too easy?” or, even worse, “You didn’t study…AGAIN” QUESTION MARK. Instead of leaving early, I doodle on the test or write poetry. I found that it is safer to go with doodling because my bio teacher actually graded the poetry I wrote on a test once and asked me if there was something we should discuss. Therefore, doodling has been the simplest way to burn 30 minutes and sometimes it gets positive response from the teacher… or at least one that isn’t an “X” or “?” .

Doodle #1:

Doodle #2:

Doodle #3:

 

If you have any tips or experiences from tests, I’d like to hear them! I’ll be in college for the remainder of this decade, so they might come in useful.

Edit: Even worse than the question mark is a written request from the professor to study for the final. So far, I have received two of these.

Penis for a day

During my final semester at high school I was introduced to the Freudian term “Penis Envy” which Freud explains as a girl’s reaction to not having her own wiggly wang. I am assuming this is normal for most girls since I am almost certain that I reacted in some way when I found out things were a bit different down there. HOWEVER, Freud goes on to say pretty absurd things like:

*Soon after the libidinal shift to the penis, the child develops her first sexual impulses towards her mother.

*The girl realizes that she is not physically equipped to have a sexual relationship with her mother, as she has a clitoris, labia and vagina, rather than a penis.

*She desires a penis, and the power that it represents. This is described as penis envy. She sees the solution as obtaining her father’s penis. *She develops a sexual desire for her father.

*The girl blames her mother for her apparent castration (what she sees as punishment by the mother for being attracted to the father) assisting a shift in the focus of her sexual impulses from her mother to her father.

*Sexual desire for her father leads to the desire to replace and eliminate her mother.

(Taken from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penis_envy)

In non-Freudian lingo that girl is called CRAZY. Who the heck actually thinks like that? (that was rhetorical so please don’t respond)

Anyhow, what made me start with that whole educational spiel is that, on occasion, I tend to wonder what the capabilities of a penis are. Simple questions like “Can it do this, or that?” So, last night I was thinking what I’d actually do if I had my own penis for a day ( and, no, I don’t want yours). If I was given this opportunity and the thing is safely attached and functioning I would immediately start to dance as wildly as a I can to see if it flops around. Afterwards, I would conduct the following experiments to answer the questions I’ve always had:

Experiment #1: See if I can fold it in half (lengthwise). If this works, fold it into thirds.

Experiment #2: Which pictures stimulate it most. Does it even matter just as long as it has a vageegee?

Experiment #3: Drink a gallon of water, hold urine until it becomes unbearable, and release with as much peeing force as I can muster. Does it move like an unrestrained garden hose?

Experiment #4: Take a long, hot bath. Does it shrivel up like a raisin?

Experiment #5: Ask someone to kick these nuts ( I assume the penis will come with other necessary parts). How does the pain compare to menstrual cramps?

Photography Comic #2

Photography Comic #1

Order at Starbucks

I sometimes give off the impression that I am very shy which is partly true, especially when it comes to ordering food or drink. I tend to be a bit timid when asking for things so I practice the order in my head several times to avoid any embarrassment that could result. Once I am ready or the server clearly becomes very impatient (whichever comes first), I repeat exactly what I practiced and then all of the tension naturally dissipates. This ritual happens just about every week when I visit Starbucks and, today, since no one else was in line, I was able to think things through more thoroughly. Here is how the whole thing today played out in my mind:

(voices in my head)

“Hurry up, ho.”

“Okay, okay. Geez, freaking 3 bucks for coffee?”

“Yes, dummy. You knew that already when you were driving here.”

“So I’ll just order a tall to save money.”

“Ya go ahead and order a tall and look cheap… look how small that thing is. EVERYONE will know.”

“Fine. I’ll get a grande. But the lady at the cash register looks like she speaks Spanish and will secretly critique my pronunciation of grrrrande.”

“Get venti then.”

“4 bucks? Hell no! Is venti even a Spanish word?”

“Italian perhaps.”

“Hm. Phew, no one is behind me. That should give me some time. Oo new Jason Mraz CD.”

“Get coffee already. The lady is already standing there.”

“I don’t even like coffee though; it stains my teeth and it gives me diarrhea.”

“…”

“Okay, I’ll get the Pike’s roast. It’s cheap and if I don’t like it I’ll have only spent 2 dollars. So I’ll just say Venti Pike… Oh, what’s that? Pick of the day? I haven’t seen that before. Maybe I’ll get that. I think I will get that. But how would I phrase that? Can I have the morning pick? That sounds lame. I’ll just ask for the pike.”

“Finally!”

(Back to the real voices)

“Are you ready ma’am?”

“Ah, yes. I think so… (sudden panic)… Um I heard Starbucks burns their coffee beans.” (ah… shit)