Here are the results for me. Since I am a female, I am heartened to see that 67% of my brain recognizes that fact.
Your Brain is 67% Female, 33% Male |
 Your brain leans female You think with your heart, not your head Sweet and considerate, you are a giver But you're tough enough not to let anyone take advantage of you! |
My daughter has interesting and intelligent friends- Kenny immediately springs to mind, he of the lightning quick and cutting wit- but there are others, some of whom I got to meet during the one year we shared together at Motlow College - her last year as a student there and my first year there as an instructor. One of the brightest of her friends is a fellow named Griff, who writes THREE blogs; one on beer, one about geocaching, and one that is essentially the random musings of a most original and humorous mind.
I have just reinstated a link to my favorite of his blogs, Life Among the Natives (AKA catty wampus comments), to which I became addicted during Griff (and Kelly's) old Tullahoma.net days. Kelly was Griff's editor on the college paper as well, and so he has taken to calling her Darth Kel, which tickles me no end. I must warn you that he doesn't blog there often anymore, but when he does, it's choice, so dip into his ramblings from time to time. They are worth the wait.
Before you forward any email tragedy stories, or dire warnings about polluted purses, check out the veracity of the email at Urban Legends and Folklore. I have a link to that site as well. All sorts of weird and wonderful (and sometimes gross) things on that site. I particularly enjoyed the larvae infested breast- which, by the way, is true.
I have linked to the blog of my interesting and intelligent son, but he has not blogged in some time. He has been too busy. Aside from building a garage the size of the Taj Mahal, he has been going to school and taking piano lessons, while working a full time job and supporting a wife and four daughters.
My stage maven daughter will be here the day after Christmas with another of her intelligent and interesting friends in tow. Everyone here is so pumped about their visit. I can't wait. She is currently appearing in a most bizarre San Diego production of "The Importance of Being Earnest" as Mrs., rather than Lady, Bracknell, who, in this rendition, is apparently a yenta. Go figure. It kind of reminds me of the Richard III that was being produced in a movie called "The Goodbye Girl". Richard Dreyfus was being compelled to play the lead character as a gay cross-dresser with a lisp, a portrayal sure to offend everyone and end an actor's career. Sure hope "Earnest" doesn't go in the same direction. My daughter will pull it off, of course- she is wonderfully skilled at what she does- but why tinker with a classic, especially one so completely rooted in Edwardian England, and intimately intertwined with the British railway service? Some plays are just so anchored in a point in time that it is impossible to update them, and shouldn't be tried. Only my opinion- I could be wrong.
Well, my hand surgery went well, if a bit more painful than the last one in August. I have a magnificent bruise that covers the entirety of the palm of my hand and travels four inches up my wrist and two tiny incisions in the base of my hand. I actually think I am having a harder time without the use of my left hand than I did without the use of my right- and I'm right handed! I get the stitches out the day after Christmas. Looks like it is going to be an eventful day.
My Christmas is all ready to go. All the gifts are purchased and wrapped. My daughter-in-law Becca already knows every damn thing she is getting. It is IMPOSSIBLE to keep a secret from that woman! My son got one of his gifts early, of course. He is persuasive, and I am a push-over. Everyone but Mama seems to be in the holiday mood. Maybe if we all got grumpy, she would cheer up just to be contrary. Friends have been in and out, and Dave and I will be stocking the larder tomorrow. I love Christmas. I hand made all my Christmas cards this year and sent them out in vellum envelopes far and wide. I have received Christmas cards and early gifts, and mistletoe. David has brought home an obscene amount of spirits from his friends and co-workers; that's what men do at Christmas. They buy booze for the men and jewelry for the women, and so can shop in less than two hours. I, on the other hand, have been shopping since October. Of course, I shopped for 30 people as opposed to Dave's 9, and since I wrapped his gifts for his coworkers, he only had to wrap mine. No matter. Everyone is going to have a wonderful holiday.
My club, the GFWC Centennial Woman's Club, adopted a family this year, a single mom with seven children from what had been a blended family. We provided tons of gifts for the mom and children, as well as food baskets and a gift card to Kroger worth almost $400. There never were nor could there ever be more good-hearted and generous women than the good women of the GFWC. Toys for Tots, Karing for Kids, adopting a family, knitting scarves and assembling food baskets- you want to see the true meaning of Christmas? Come to my little town.
Which will be the subject of my next blog. For now, I will close with a sincere wish of health, prosperity, love, and all God's blessings for this wonderful season and the new year.
I am typing this from my classroom, on my last day of class for the fall of 2006. Six of my eleven students are still taking what has to be one of the hardest tests they've had at this college, not because I made it hard, but because genetics is a complex subject. They have had essay tests the entire semester, have written numerous lab reports, and were assigned five journal reports- I believe in writing across the curriculum- so I have prepared them for this last exam.
This entire semester, it has been like pulling teeth to get them to read the textbook. I really don't understand that. I model my lectures on the text, and sometimes take test questions word for word from it. This generation of student does not seem to feel the need to study from a book. Granted, I provide hand-outs, and I am a damn fine lecturer, if I do say so myself (and I do). But when I was a student, I lived in my books. Different generation, different learning styles.
This has been a great group of kids. I have really enjoyed being their teacher, and will miss them, both individually and as a group, when this is over. There have been a few that are brilliant, a couple that are brilliant but lazy, two very highly motivated, one struggler and one non-trad who has done what non-trads seem to do- bust the curve. I have had a pair of brothers, as different from one another as night and day, but both kids you'd be proud to call your own. The eldest has a special place in my heart because he is a smart-ass. I think he's terrific.
The class has been as evenly divided between male and female as a class of eleven can be, six males, five females. No gender bias here- they have all done well.
Now as Christmas approaches, and hand surgery approaches, and my daughter's visit approaches, I can't really say that I am sorry the semester is over. I just wish genetics was a two semester class so I could spend time with this group of people again next semester.
To my students, should you stumble across this blog, the merriest of Christmases and all my love and best wishes.
And Marcia, you are off the hook for strong-arming me into teaching this class. It was worth it.
A year ago, I took Mama to the eye doctor. Turns out her prescription had not changed one jot, so she did not need new glasses. The doctor did, however, mention Mama's macular degeneration, something Mama had forgotten she had. From that day to this, Mama has been "blind".
Frankly, I have had little patience with her "blindness". It seemed inconceivable to me that a person could be able to read one day and totally incapable the next, just because she hadn't gotten new glasses. "You don't need them, Mother," I told her, "Your eyes have not changed at all." "But I'm blind!" she responded, and it pissed me off. More of her drama, more of her acting up for attention.
But, being the good daughter-in-law I am, I took her back to the eye-doctor today. I sat there, irritated, as Mama claimed to be able to only read the first line of the chart - you know the line, the one with the giant E that is facing in the wrong direction. I listened as she first told the technician that there was nothing wrong with her vision, and then began to catalog a host of woes. When Dr. Bell came in to do the exam, Mama put on a show for her as well.
At the end of the exam, the doctor again informed us that there has been very little change in Mama's prescription. There is some "leaking" in her better eye, (the left), and so she will have a procedure on the 14th to see if she is a good candidate for laser surgery to stop that, but otherwise, her current glasses are filling the bill and will continue to do so until after the surgery, if it turns out to be necessary.
"I'm as blind as a bat" Mama yells. "Where's the bathroom?" I signal to the doctor to talk to me while Mother leaves the room in search of a toilet. "Her vision seems to be stable, but she keeps telling me she is blind. Is there any way you could give me an idea of what her vision is?" Doctor Bell left the room and came back with two different lenses, one for the left and one for the right eye. I looked through them. "Omigod! Is this what she sees WEARING her glasses?" I asked. Dr. Bell just nodded.
Mama has only blurred peripheral vision in her right eye. She perceives light and movement but that's about it. Her left eye is a little better, but not much, though it is hoped the laser surgery with help a bit; at least it should stop any further deterioration. I don't know how Mother recognizes faces, navigates steps, or manages to negotiate the house. Yes, her prescription has not changed in three years, but that, as it turns out, is meaningless. Her vision has not changed from GOD-AWFUL in three years. I had no idea. I thought she was myopic and a self-pitying, self-aggrandizing drama queen. Turns out she is a blind, self-pitying, self-aggrandizing drama queen.
Poor old thing. I feel lower than whale shit for not taking her seriously. All the times I looked through her glasses, I never got a sense of how the world really looks to her. No wonder she is depressed! And here I have been, making light of her problem, and assuming that, because her prescription wasn't changing, her complaints were without validity. I could have been so much more understanding and so much more helpful to her this past year than I was. I have been rolling my eyes at her complaints. What a bitch!
Well, I am both chastened and shamed by this experience. Hope I never end up with me as my caretaker when I am 78.
| Your Five Factor Personality Profile |
 You have high extroversion. You are outgoing and engaging, with both strangers and friends. You truly enjoy being with people and bring energy into any situation. Enthusiastic and fun, you're the first to say "let's go!" Conscientiousness: You have medium conscientiousness. You're generally good at balancing work and play. When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done. But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it. Agreeableness: You have high agreeableness. You are easy to get along with, and you value harmony highly. Helpful and generous, you are willing to compromise with almost anyone. You give people the benefit of the doubt and don't mind giving someone a second chance. Neuroticism: You have low neuroticism. You are very emotionally stable and mentally together. Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly. Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is medium. You are generally broad minded when it come to new things. But if something crosses a moral line, there's no way you'll approve of it. You are suspicious of anything too wacky, though you do still consider creativity a virtue. |
