I am so finding somewhere else to live. Anyone who lives in the area and is looking to move out and get a place preferably in Berwick, plesae let me know. Until then I’m going to be placing ads and looking at houses and trying to find 3 compatible people to live with.
Here’s an interesting concept for you to consider Dad:
It’s a simple fucking concept. If it’s not yours, you don’t touch it. If you can’t wrap your head around this concept, I wonder how you’ve managed to avoid being jailed for theft before now. I don’t belong to you. My possessions don’t belong to you.
Leave. Them. The. Fuck. Alone.
Okay, time for my semi-annual Geekily Useless post, as my dog lies beside me at this 11:55 PM in his basket, snoring, coughing in his sleep and yipping as he dreams.
Yesterday I yanked my computer to pieces. This was fun and served to fill an hour or so when I otherwise could have been doing homework. Bad Adrian. Bad. Sue me, I was taking a break. I’ve been working almost non-stop for the past three-and-a-bit weeks. One week to go, just one. Then I’m free for a month. Time to start studying ahead on Semester 3 CCNA.
Anyway, the torn-apart computer. Having my baby in pieces before me, I decided to finally replace the video card and put it all in the lovely new LanBoy case kindly given to me on the occassion of my 21st birthday by Drewboy. This is a very nice case all up, I must say. Light, compact, stylish; and with a handy-dandy carrying strap for taking it around to all those places one may take a computer (Lan Parties, friends’ houses, the gym, the dentist, you name it). Upon starting it up (after the usual, and expected, re-assembly woes) I noticed something. My already noisy computer has managed to get even louder; a fact much complained about by my father, who can usually find something to complain about in almost every situation, even though he had a point in this case.
Tonight I replaced one of the fans in it, which turns out to have had some verily broken bearings. Eep to that, I say. Everything is much quieter now. Where it used to be my computer would boot-up with a rising-tone whine, now it barely purrs. Aaah… the sweet sound of silence. How I’ve missed you. Finally, I have a computer that I know — once I finally move out of here — I can safely leave on all night and not be kept awake by it. Not that computer sounds have ever managed to keep me awake; it never hurts to be sure.
You may consider this strange, considering the number of times its happened and the great support I’ve always gotten…
But every time it happens, it’s always so hard to admit it. It doesn’t matter how public it is; to those who weren’t there, it’s so hard to tell them, even if they can help.
Having heard yesterday’s seniment echoed on the train in today, I thoguht perhapsto share it. Getting on the train bright and early this morning (I have a presentation to give today in my WAN Fundamentals class) I happened to sit behind a pair of teachers on their way to a conference. The very first thing I heard after I sat down was…
“… and that’s why you’re such a natural teacher. Every time I walk past your classes I see a smile on your face, and you’re cracking some joke or another. You show your students how even the most dry and dusty of subjects can be fun.”
Well then, thought I, that goes to show I’m not alone in this, doesn’t it?
Expoyment: v. cont. Experienced Enjoyment. Enjoyment of experiencing something that, previously, was not found to be enjoyable.
Once Upon A Time, in a land Down Under, an 18-year-old guy, fresh out of high-school, applied to work at his former high-school, carrying on with the job he had been doing there as a student volunteer for three years previous. He discovered, after signing his year-long work contract, that part of his duties would involve taking classes in Audio-Visual skills. This turned out to be not a fun time at all, and contributed, in part, to the problems he faced in later life. At this time he formed the opinion that teaching was not for him and in the course of this actually became violently opposed to it on a personal level. He associated getting up in front of a class with pain, ridicule and embarassment. Whilst fully willing ot admit that others can do it, he was firmly convinced that he couldn’t. This turned against him, making it about his own failings, and this sense of failure characterised a large part of his life over the next few years.
Three years later, he took up education again, this time as a student again. Taking a course he had always dreamed of doing, learning things that had always been his passion. In this course he met an inspiring man, a man who showed him how much fun teaching can be; how much fun the teacher can make it for the students, whilst enjoying it him- or herself. A glimmer of the old compulsion started in him, but he supressed it. He was born into a family of educators, and about the only one among them who didn’t enjoy teaching. His experiences told him that he wasn’t a good teacher; so yes, that method may work for this good person, but it wouldn’t for him.
Then some of his new-found friends in the class began to struggle with the work or the concepts to be understood. And again the compulsion came up; that compulsion to impart knowledge, to help them… to teach. Slowly he took first one, then two on. Building up from humble beginnings — a word here or there, some help, a few examples — he eased himself back into teaching. Here were people of maturity, people who actually wanted — and were eager to — learn. Here, he felt safe. So he started taking study groups, and found himself greatly encouraged by his teachers.
Now, if you haven’t guessed, the boy in this little monologue is yours truly. I was out tonight, as usual, working and tutoring and helping where I could. People have been asking me lately why, exactly, I give up my own time to do it. And finally I realised: I enjoy it. I never used to. For me teaching was associated with some very painful memories, and in a way still is. But they’re no longer a source of inner, remembered shame. Now I use them to guide me. I… enjoy seeing the look on someone’s face as they grasp a difficult concept, hearing the sound of their voice as they feel it dawn on them. The awakening of yet another mind to new ways of thinking, to alternate paths. This, now, is why I would do it. If the offer was made to me, for this reason would I teach: Becuase I enjoy imparting knowledge.
I’m not pretending that there wouldn’t be hardship involved. I’m not pretending it would be easy. But, in the end, it is worth it. Helping others succeed is… pure expoyment.
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