I'm Messed Up

I think this drawing I found in my old notebook says a lot about me, my fears, and my outlook on the future.. I AM going on an Alaskan cruise in June, so perhaps this is an omen.

Hey l'Halloween

If I ever come upon someone who hasn't noticed me, I take great care not to startle him/her. I may jingle my keys or back out and enter the room again, louder this time. No sudden movements.
I learned my lesson my first year of college when I stealthily and creepily crawled up to Maren (my roommate) as she got into bed. She squealed in terror and I laughed heartily. But she promised that she would get me back. I wouldn't know when or where, but it would happen with a vengeance. That whole year, I'd peak around corners, enter rooms cautiously, and jump at any small sound. My quality of living plummeted.
To this day, I live in fear of retribution. Now, she's probably forgotten the whole thing, but maybe she hasn't. Maybe she's in my house right now...
Nobody startle me, ok? I can't take it.

Burning Hair = Displeased Samie

It turns out it's not such a good idea to try to flat iron your fake hair extension.. It really brought back the traumatic memories of burning my actual hair.. There I was, innocently molding a man out of some play dough and exhorting information from him at birthday-candle-point, and as I lean over the lighted candle, my hair drapes over it...wow. I've never smelt such a smell nor done such a silly panic-dance. Panic at the disco was wrong; it's not time to dance. And, umm, admittedly this happened like two years ago...

Also, I want you to say this out loud. Go on, do it: Post-apocalyptic Pocahontas.
She's out for your blood along with the soul of the world. You shouldn't have made fun of her for thinking corn was gold.

Obama luuuvs his root beer

Getting a tax return is like
Christmas 2: The New Flat Screen


Also, I had the weirdest dream last night that Obama came over to my apartment to hang out (naturally he would want to) and I really wanted to go to the bike shop, but he ate a whole root beer bottle...like the whole glass bottle...so I had to do the Heimlich...and then the paparazzi took many pictures...Hmmm...political metaphor?

Misnomer

Real Names I'm Glad I Don't Have:

Johnny Barfuss
Billy Butts
Misty Balls (from FCHD department; no, really)
Nancy Anne Siancy
Misty Oceanspray
Joseph Stalin


So, while there may be 100,000 "Samantha Nelson"s, it could be worse. Samie Barfuss wouldn't get me any further.

*Sorry if you're reading this and you find your name on the list.

Oh Kiddles

Last week in primary, Chris taught the lesson about David and Goliath. He gave a scenario of your little brother stealing your toy from you and asked the kids, "What would be a David-like reaction to that?" One of them said, "Throw a rock at this head."

We had to give him a point cuz, come on, that's funny, even in church.

Crazy Things I Jot Down in Mid-Sleep

Here's another one I found in my notebook the next morning:
"In a way, the unintelligent, uncreative types are the luckiest, most sane of us all, lucky blokes."

This one isn't so crazy. All the amazing poets, artists, musicians, etc, were basically all stark mad...I guess you have to go crazy to be really good at something. Also, I'm noticing that the more education I get, the crazier I go...your brain starts thinking harder and harder and ideas branch off into infinitely more ideas and won't stop..Ignorance really, really is bliss as it turns out..Worth it?

Also, I need some ideas of how to make money...apparently a Master's degree isn't enough..

And here's another picture I took at Mill Hollow..Yay!

Sigh, don't read this either

Ok, ok, I know I shouldn't do it. And I know no one wants to hear another gripe, but I'm going to get this off my chest. And then maybe I can move on and leave this atrocity behind me. I'll keep it brief (HA), though it could go on for 34 pages. I'll also try to spice it up in poem format.

USU is dumb
Like, REALLY dumb.
They have dumb student teachers (excluding myself, wink) who don't know the material and tell you wrong things
And then, although this statistics class has been a relative breeze compared to other grad classes, I suppose still a lot of work,
Dumb people don't realize that the take home final they've given you will take LITERALLY ALL DAY.
I know no one cares,
and I know some people have worse stories,
but let me just say that I got to class at 9 am,
class ended at 10:30,
and I spent til until about 8 PM finishing this take home test, nonstop minus a 45 minute lunch break.
Here's the thing though.
It wasn't your normal, run of the mill, work-all-day.
No, no. This was statistics at its most foul.
Hey, if anything, I've fairly enjoyed the rest of the class,
but when I have to compile hundreds of data entries,
pick the most appropriate analysis,
whether it be a repeated measures mixed design analysis of variance or just regular ol' linear regression analysis,
know what that analysis means,
provide 24 pages of output from a statistical program,
interpret just about every single number from the table,
know what those mean and how they relate to each other,
then write about 10 pages single spaced interpreting that data in APA format,
and do several more analyses in klunky Excel,
I get a little....agitated..
Here's a lovely example from one line:
"The interaction effects of time and word type were not statistically significant, F(1,33)=53.523, p<.001, partial eta squared=.619, a medium effect size."
That went on for 10 pages aaaaaaa!!
And the worst part?
THIS IS THE CRAP I DO ALL DAY, ALL THE TIME IN THIS FORSAKEN GRADUATE PROGRAM!!!
I can't even describe my internal agony at my awful plight...mmm...slightly dramatic.

No worries. I'm going to calm down. And then forget this nonsense.
And I know, you may be thinking, "Oh wa, wa, wa, call the wambulence. Suck it up, I've had worse."
And that's true. I'm going to stop complaining in just a sec.

Just let me know if you'd be interested to see the bulk of my work files, ok?!
That's the funny thing, can you think of any psychopath who actually WOULD be interested?
How about all the professors at school...
Sickos.

Next post will be positive to counterbalance.

We Done Went Fishing

Blarg, Blogger is dumb. It will only let me upload one pic... Anyone know how to upload easier? And more than 5 at a time?

Still Not Done...

Hippo-cracy Democracy

Welp, I'm a hippo-crittter. I am, nonetheless, pleased to announce the newest member of our family, my schnazzy new bike. I loves it...except for one minor issue... There is...a certain amount...a certain degree.. of some less-than-pleasing...not-so-optimal... There's some pink on the bike, ok? Yeah. I bought a bike with some pink on it, despite my vehement vows otherwise. What's it to you? It was the best deal, the smoothest ride, way on sale, and Chris thinks it would be good for me to embrace my inner girl. I am, in fact, a girl... Although I doubt even my inner-most girl wants anything to do with that abhorred, atrocious, puke of a color...but perhaps he's right. It's really not even that much pink anyway. Plus, it's more of a purple (true, a color almost as nauseating as vomitrocious pink, but it's kind of like having Mussolini for a friend instead of Hitler).
Anywho, I just thought you'd want to hear it from me rather than finding out some other, shocking way.

Here it is... Ok, lay it on me.

Tu t'appelles?

People who claim to be "so terrible with names" = Self-centered. (I'm in this category)
People who claim to be "incredibly good with names" = Creepy.

Wanna go ride bikes?

Well, after spending the winter under a tarp that was too small, it was time to "tune up" the bike again. I rolled it into Aggie Blue Bikes, who, as it turns out, make YOU fix your own bike under their fairly lax supervision. Here's the thing though, they all figure that you know at least something about your bicycle, because they start with, "Alright, just pop that back wheel off and unscrew the axel rod." Mmmm...I said, "I promise I'm not this dumb outside of bicycle-dom...but I don't have any idea how to get that sucker off a there..." He says, "Just unhook the break pads and pull the quick release." It turns out the "quick" release is only quick if you're not dumb. In the end, I spent the better part of 2 hours screwing things in the wrong way (righty tighty, lefty loosey is hard), dropping wrenches on the poor dude's foot, and wigging out over the spiderwebs that appeared in the bike's nooks and crannies. I asked him if he figured it would explode on my way home, and I guess he didn't see it as very likely...even after I told him how it HAD in fact exploded while I was riding it one time...the tire anyway.
So here's hoping it doesn't fall apart mid-ride.

Also, anyone have any ideas on where to buy a new bike? We need another one.

IQ and Neuroticism

Am I neurotic because I walk away from satisfactory, unawkward, social interactions smiling to myself, "Yes. A satisfactory, unawkward social interaction"...?

I took an IQ test because I was reading in my statistics book about the distributions of American IQ scores... so I figure, ok, let's see how I stack up, dumb or MENSA. It turned out I'm dumb because I wasted my time on an IQ test and didn't finish reading my statistics book... How would MENSA like that.


Free-IQTest.net - IQ Test


Lastly, I may stop this blogging thing...it's feeling lonely in here.

Random things in my little notebook

I was flipping through the little notebook I keep by my bedside, and found some random things. Some of them don't make sense...Sometimes I write things in pitch darkness as I'm drifting off to sleep...

-"Stickers stick to what purpose"
I have no idea what I meant by this. Now there's some deep thinking for yeh.
-"Pros and Cons of staying in grad school: Pros: M.S. degree, no disappointment; Cons: Go crazy, can't do fun things"
Hmmm...and what did I ultimately choose? Sanity is overrated anyway..
-"Chris started freaking out last night, 'Aaa! Aaa! Keep the ogre open!' Repeated over and over"
Looks like I'm not the only one with night terrors. Subconscious fear of ogres much?
-"Baby present, Jen-Frosting, Randy-thesis timeline"
I think you got your frosting, didn't you Jen?
-"Bottle of retrospect"
Mmm...poetic.

Pick-a-Philosophy Tuesdays

I picked up the Shopko catalog I got in the mail, and unfortunately, it inspired yet another cynical bone-to-pick (yes, it's now one, hyphenated word--I was told that I'm allowed to do that now). Right on page two, I see an ad for "NEW VIEW 2 pk. Resin Wall Plaques" for only $4.88! Wow!! The first plaque suggests in beautiful cursive, "Make each day a new beginning." Awe. Just inspiring. The second one wisely advises, "Keep a dream in your heart." Let me brush this joyful tear from my cheek.

Ok, first of all, I am utterly incapable of fathoming what could possibly be going through any human being's mind that could allow them to even tolerate such pointless, life-sucking space-occupiers, let alone ACTUALLY PAYING for the mindless dribble! Never mind that four dollars and eighty-eight cents could buy you around 8 candy bars, depending on the sale; never mind that you'd be $4.88 cents richer and your wall wouldn't be polluted with putrescent nonsense; what kind of drooling idiot would buy this garbage?? You might be wondering, why is Samie so worked up about such a trivial thing? Brain-meltage is probably a factor, sure, but it's the principle of the thing. Let's say you truly believe that each day should be a new beginning [eye roll]. FINE! THAT'S FINE! But even if that's the case, why would you go buy a ridiculous WALL PLAQUE?? Where's the connect?? So you can tack it up on your wall and let everyone else know that's what you believe? Is it the pretty little butterfly that printed above the cursive? Do you think your house needs another accent? Or are you attracted to big red "sale!" signs? I don't understand!!! And besides, what are the chances that these two little adages actually represent your life philosophy?? Aaaa!

Ok. Take a deep breath. If you like little sayings on your walls and shelves, fine. Go for it. But why not make a craft out of it and make something infinitely cooler and more personal than some dumb plaque you buy at Shopko for $4.88???!!
Maybe I'm taking my school frustration out on Shopko. And the dummy who made these idiotic plaques...
If you're a person with manufactured words on your wall and you're reading this, don't get offended. I can probably assume that you have a good reason. Please enlighten me.

More Poetry for You

In my current state, I offer things I hate. And because that sounds cynical by itself, I give it to you in poetry format. That way, it's bleeding art, not griping (as with all poetry--take THAT poetry; how do you like me now?)


The Great Hater (with apologies to Rupert Brooke)

These have I hated:
The singing voices of children
(Don't judge me, it grates the ear drums)
Ambiguities in requests
The audacity of undergraduates
Entitled punks who think their time is more valuable than mine
Line butters
Uncertainty
Snow
Driving
People who think the blinker is a fun option
Any change besides furniture layout
Surprises that aren't presents for me
The color pink
Oh how I loathe pink
"I know you're super busy, but..."
That dancing game when trying to pass a stranger
but you both try to go the same way
several times.
Academia's thievery of Spring Breaks
Women who are taller than I am
Just washing my hands and then being faced
with the obligation of a handshake
with someone who may have challenged hygiene habits
Small dogs
"I had the craziest dream last night,
let me tell you about it in detail"
"Let me tell...you...this important...thing...
Sorry...I'm distracted...by this....mundane...task..."
GRAD SCHOOL
Hollywood
Poetry
But before my list gets too long,
For the sake of my soul:
I like kittens, candy, green grapes, alliterations,
Christian, when people think I'm funny,
Being right, piano, fan-damily, boots,
Teaching, finishing something, graduating,
Graduating, graduating, leisure time,
Assassin's Creed 2,Left 4 Dead 2, drawing,
The color green, wind, rain, possibly YOU.


The end.

Perhaps poetry isn't the route I should take...

Just a little poetry for you

Is anyone ACTUALLY interested in how family structure affects labor market outcomes??? I mean, why do these people spend the time to write such horrifically dull articles? Surely that means someone is interested in the topic, right? But who? What kind of sicko likes that stuff? ESPECIALLY enough to devote their entire careers to it??! Why am I reading it?! What am I doing here?! It's sucking the life out of me..as well as the cookies I just ate.. and I ate a lot of them..

Ok, this is the last post on school, I promise...if that's good for anything. Who wants to read other people's griping about their schedules and their sucky majors.. I'm just perplexed. And vomitrocious.

So, to smooth things over with you, I offer my poem: Ode to 7th grade poetry

Brains
Squish
Versus skull
Cavity.
It's complex.
It's perplex.
It's a 4-plex.
Where discrimination is allowed
Under Fair Housing.
Stop it.
No housing.
What a lousy
Way to die.

The end.

Stellar, am I right?

What in the heck is construct validity??

Can someone please tell me? I really don't know. I have basically no idea. And you may be wondering, how is Sam doing in her research methods class? I don't want to talk about it. But it's all cool, because I made that fateful deal with myself that if I'm going to do grad school, I'm not allowed to obsess or work on Sundays. Sunday is working out...but not knowing what construct validity is...well...that's like a little miniature Freddy Kruger clawing around my innards...must...under...stand...And yeah, go ahead, look it up. You'll be more ignorant than before you started.
Sigh.
I wonder if there's a spectrum of sanity...or if you're just sane or insane.... What's really depressing is that what I just said reminds me of a continuous variable versus a categorical variable...
Sigh again.
Whatever the case, we'll see what's left of said sanity when this circus is over.
Oh and here. Let me just frustrate you with this chart that nothing to do with anything.

Man Baby

Alright. Perhaps smaller, more frequent posts. One of those things that I MAKE time for, even though zero exists. Speaking of that, it's pretty annoying when other people are always complaining about how little time they have...and I do that...a lot...So I'll try to stop. Maybe that will magically give me more time. Mmmm...time.

So the thought of the week: I don't ever want to see an adult male do an accurate infant impression again. Not ever again. So if you think you have a pretty good one up your sleeve, keep it to yourself, okay? I can't handle any more.