maybe everyone feels this way, but I feel like I haven't done very much actual living. Despite the wonderful places I've lived, I am mostly lazy and content in my own little sphere of work-school-home. I feel like I should move out West and adventure, or even adventure here, but I don't know how to get started and I am too comfortable to be really motivated.
Scary, though, that I'm making the kinds of decisions that might turn into regrets for the rest of my life.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Sandy thoughts
You probably haven't heard, but there was a bit of a storm in New York this weekend...
Here in Boston, it was more of an adventure than anything. No one in my house had to go to work, so we:
Here in Boston, it was more of an adventure than anything. No one in my house had to go to work, so we:
- stayed in all day
- watched movies
- didn't lose power
- and listened to the wind howling outside.
We were incredibly fortunate compared to New York. Most of my NYU friends have been without power all week, and some had to evacuate their apartments. Those whose families live in the city or on Long Island are coping with a lot of hurricane damage at home, as well.
I understand (as well as I can, given that I wasn't actually there) the gravity of their situation, and also that there is no harm in adding a little humor when life seems bleak. I am uncomfortable, though, with all the references to "refugee camps" where those who were evacuated are living. Yes, conditions are much worse than usual - no showers, either no beds or way too many beds in one room, no cell service or Internet or ways to charge one's electronics.
A refugee, though, is "a person who is outside his/her country of origin or habitual residence because he/she has suffered persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or because he/she is a member of a persecuted 'social group'." It implies real danger and pain and risk. So when people jokingly call the apartment in Brooklyn where they're piled in with 8 of their friends a "refugee camp," I can't help but think that we are yet again minimizing the very real and life-threatening problems that a large percent of the world actually faces.
Being a refugee is a real and terrifying thing and one that should be taken seriously. I suppose I'm being overly PC here, but I think it's callous to refer to any NYU student as a refugee and that it shows a blatant disrespect for the real-world problems that many people, who are not as sheltered or fortunate as we, have to face.
Monday, October 8, 2012
The psychologist is in.
When I teach an LSAT class, one thing I like to do is to tell the students at the beginning of the course to email me about their goals, what they've been doing to study, and what other obligations they have (that might limit how much time they'll have to study). I tried this for the first time with my last class, and about half the class emailed me a quick note about their goal score.
I told my current class the same thing yesterday, and have so far received a couple responses.
Holy.
Shit.
Both emails are PARAGRAPHS long and jam-packed with personal info. I don't want to get too specific — I'm not trying to ridicule these people at all — but between the two emails, they've told me about neurological injuries incurred on the job, cheating ex-fiances, wives' Native American heritage, and basically their entire life histories. These are people who I've met twice, and my sole job is to teach them how to do well on this standardized test.
So, yes, there's definitely some oversharing going on here and I did get a little judgey about that. On the other hand, it makes me all that much more committed to help these people do as well as they possibly can on this test because I feel empathetic about the problems they've had.
Even wanting to help them on the LSAT, though, is a problematic goal for me. It feels a little like sending lambs to the slaughter - it kills me to know that even if I help this man get into his chosen law school, which considered a low-caliber school, he's going to graduate with heaps of debt and have an incredibly hard time finding a job. I want to tell him that he would have better luck seeking a different job. But, again, my only job is to help him do well on this test - not to judge his ambitions or suggest that he consider another career. So I'm torn between wanting to help in the small way I can, which is getting him to his goal score, and knowing that in the long run I likely won't be helping at all.
I told my current class the same thing yesterday, and have so far received a couple responses.
Holy.
Shit.
Both emails are PARAGRAPHS long and jam-packed with personal info. I don't want to get too specific — I'm not trying to ridicule these people at all — but between the two emails, they've told me about neurological injuries incurred on the job, cheating ex-fiances, wives' Native American heritage, and basically their entire life histories. These are people who I've met twice, and my sole job is to teach them how to do well on this standardized test.
So, yes, there's definitely some oversharing going on here and I did get a little judgey about that. On the other hand, it makes me all that much more committed to help these people do as well as they possibly can on this test because I feel empathetic about the problems they've had.
Even wanting to help them on the LSAT, though, is a problematic goal for me. It feels a little like sending lambs to the slaughter - it kills me to know that even if I help this man get into his chosen law school, which considered a low-caliber school, he's going to graduate with heaps of debt and have an incredibly hard time finding a job. I want to tell him that he would have better luck seeking a different job. But, again, my only job is to help him do well on this test - not to judge his ambitions or suggest that he consider another career. So I'm torn between wanting to help in the small way I can, which is getting him to his goal score, and knowing that in the long run I likely won't be helping at all.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Every once in a while, applying for jobs is entertaining...
CASTING: Groups of Friends With Benefits! (All Boston)
Are you and your group of best friends in a tight knit circle with blurry boundaries when it comes to hooking up? Major cable network is looking for a dynamic group of early 20 somethings who reject strict sexual identities. Do you and your crew subscribe to the "anything goes" mentality? Are there multiple hook-ups within your group regardless of gender? Would you and your friends consider yourselves FLEXISEXUAL? We're casting a group of close BFFs who are open to try any identity on for size and together have been through it all.
Quick! Where are my flexisexual friends?!
I hate my neighbors.
I used to think that living next to college students had to be the most annoying living situation imaginable.
Oh, how I've been proven wrong. In September, a family with young children — about 3 of them, judging by the screams — moved in to the house next door. (In this case, "next door" means "about 6 feet away from my house.") And those little kids do NOT stop screaming. Ever. Seriously, no one in that house has heard of "inside voices." And I get that little kids tend to do that, but when it's happening at 6 am and sounds so close that it could be inside my room, I want to pull my hair out. I'm about to start throwing large ragers on weeknights just so I feel like there's a little quid pro quo going on here.
Oh, how I've been proven wrong. In September, a family with young children — about 3 of them, judging by the screams — moved in to the house next door. (In this case, "next door" means "about 6 feet away from my house.") And those little kids do NOT stop screaming. Ever. Seriously, no one in that house has heard of "inside voices." And I get that little kids tend to do that, but when it's happening at 6 am and sounds so close that it could be inside my room, I want to pull my hair out. I'm about to start throwing large ragers on weeknights just so I feel like there's a little quid pro quo going on here.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Mo Money Mo Problems
Okay, I'm joining the blogging trend. My goal is to be as open and honest and interesting as my lovely friends Britta and Michelle, which means fighting my instinct to relentlessly self-censor rather than saying something potentially embarrassing. I mean, people can read this stuff! But nevertheless, here goes.
I decided to make the leap because Britta made an interesting post about the challenges of living at home, which in turn made me think about how quickly my personal finances have become central to my thinking. Sure, in college I watched my money, but I was lucky enough to be supported by my parents - my meager work-study income went directly to food and beer, and if it proved insufficient, I knew my parents would have my back (to a point - I wasn't going on spending sprees either). As long as my account balance was positive and my credit card was paid off, I didn't have much to worry about.
Now, though, I think about my personal finances at least once per day. I greedily pinch pennies - I don't buy that coffee on my way to work because I tell myself those little purchases add up, I think about trying to convince my roommates to cancel the cable because in my money-saving tunnel vision, that extra $30/month seems indefensible. I stress about what I will do for the four months this winter when my LSAT teaching job will go into hibernation, leaving me income-less unless I can find something else. I still have my safety net - my parents certainly aren't going to let me starve - but now I'm motivated as much by pride as anything else. When I vaguely thought ahead to my future, the plan was to be completely independent as soon as I graduated, and it's hard to accept anything less. (Okay, full disclosure: my parents still pay my cell phone bill. I think that's okay for now, although I do plan to start paying my portion after I get a more steady source of income. But at what point does that stop being okay? Doesn't it sound kind of weird to be 25 and have your parents still paying for your iPhone?)
Also, when it comes to charitable donations, now it's time to walk the walk instead of just talking the talk. When I was in college, I felt slightly guilty donating to charities because technically I was probably just donating my parents' money, but I felt totally comfortable thinking that everyone should aspire to donate a large percent of their income - and, accordingly, I felt comfortable judging the posters on the personal finance blogs I read who admitted to donating less. Now that I am a real working human being, I realize that donating 10% of your income - which always sounded like a good goal to me, regardless of whether you're religious - is a lot. I mean, if you're making $30,000 a year after taxes, that means you should be donating $3,000 a year! And suddenly I find myself struggling with whether I should be putting myself first - should I be donating if I have an unsteady and uncertain source of income? Should I be donating if it means saving less money for my (admittedly distant) retirement? And if I can make these excuses to allow myself to donate less, shouldn't I revise my blanket assertion that others should make donation a priority too?
This is a really fascinating time of life, from a purely abstract perspective - I feel like I was in training to be an adult for a long time, but now I really am one (or so they say) and I have to figure out what that actually means for me. That's what I love most about reading my friends' blogs - we're all doing different things and it's so interesting to read what others are thinking during this transition period - and I hope that my blog will offer another source of insight.
I decided to make the leap because Britta made an interesting post about the challenges of living at home, which in turn made me think about how quickly my personal finances have become central to my thinking. Sure, in college I watched my money, but I was lucky enough to be supported by my parents - my meager work-study income went directly to food and beer, and if it proved insufficient, I knew my parents would have my back (to a point - I wasn't going on spending sprees either). As long as my account balance was positive and my credit card was paid off, I didn't have much to worry about.
Now, though, I think about my personal finances at least once per day. I greedily pinch pennies - I don't buy that coffee on my way to work because I tell myself those little purchases add up, I think about trying to convince my roommates to cancel the cable because in my money-saving tunnel vision, that extra $30/month seems indefensible. I stress about what I will do for the four months this winter when my LSAT teaching job will go into hibernation, leaving me income-less unless I can find something else. I still have my safety net - my parents certainly aren't going to let me starve - but now I'm motivated as much by pride as anything else. When I vaguely thought ahead to my future, the plan was to be completely independent as soon as I graduated, and it's hard to accept anything less. (Okay, full disclosure: my parents still pay my cell phone bill. I think that's okay for now, although I do plan to start paying my portion after I get a more steady source of income. But at what point does that stop being okay? Doesn't it sound kind of weird to be 25 and have your parents still paying for your iPhone?)
Also, when it comes to charitable donations, now it's time to walk the walk instead of just talking the talk. When I was in college, I felt slightly guilty donating to charities because technically I was probably just donating my parents' money, but I felt totally comfortable thinking that everyone should aspire to donate a large percent of their income - and, accordingly, I felt comfortable judging the posters on the personal finance blogs I read who admitted to donating less. Now that I am a real working human being, I realize that donating 10% of your income - which always sounded like a good goal to me, regardless of whether you're religious - is a lot. I mean, if you're making $30,000 a year after taxes, that means you should be donating $3,000 a year! And suddenly I find myself struggling with whether I should be putting myself first - should I be donating if I have an unsteady and uncertain source of income? Should I be donating if it means saving less money for my (admittedly distant) retirement? And if I can make these excuses to allow myself to donate less, shouldn't I revise my blanket assertion that others should make donation a priority too?
This is a really fascinating time of life, from a purely abstract perspective - I feel like I was in training to be an adult for a long time, but now I really am one (or so they say) and I have to figure out what that actually means for me. That's what I love most about reading my friends' blogs - we're all doing different things and it's so interesting to read what others are thinking during this transition period - and I hope that my blog will offer another source of insight.
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