Quiz Question: Choose one of the following misconceptions about evolution and explain, in at least two sentences, why it is incorrect.
Misconception chosen: "Evolution is a theory about the origin of life."
Written answer given: Because the life of the theory is origin next I don't good on the life. Becaus the origin is a other think in the life with Evolution want the life.
That's what he wrote, word for word.
I didn't get the job at Walker.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
I don't know what to write about
Back in California. School starts back on Monday, so I have the weekend to do... whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing out here.
I came out to get away from home, Georgia, my social network, my "comfort" zone. I needed to move away and do something entirely on my own, I guess just to know that I could do it.
Before I left, I had no particular desire to get anything done, because I guess deep down I knew I didn't really need to get anything done. Graduating and moving home in 2006 made it very clear that I would go absolutely nuts if I didn't have a reason for existing, and by that I mean a job that I cared about, or alternatively a goal/purpose to be actively reaching towards. If I spent any extended time and my parents - we're talking hours here - I would start crawling the walls, picking fights, getting anxious, pulling my hair out, etc. So in the four months I was home I almost drowned myself in work: three jobs, two classes at Kennesaw State, successfully applying for a teaching credential/master's program in California, and finding an apartment out there. So the day after Christmas 2006, I loaded up my 1999 Honda Accord with clothes, a Super Nintendo, a cat, and finally, a purpose.
I reached Riverside on the 30th and started classes about a week later. Unemployed for five months. Accord wrecked in May. Finally got a job as a waiter at a sports bar 30 miles south, a bar that stayed open until 2 a.m. on the weekends. Around the same time I also found work as an in-home SAT tutor. During late spring I take a bus 15 miles to student-teach at a high school. Five days before the school year started in the fall of 2007, I had interviewed at four high schools and none had offered me an internship (full-time teaching without a credential). Four days before the school year starts I am offered a position.
Now I've got a day job, but the credentialing program is in full swing and between that and being completely terrified at my new job I'm working about 12-13 hours a day and sleeping 5. The year slogs on. I can't remember anything that happened except that the days and weeks ran into one long, tired cycle of driving, teaching, planning, grading, going to classes, more planning, and sleeping. I surprisingly manage to quit smoking over the Christmas break, move to a new apartment, earn my credential in April, finish the school year feeling a hundred times more confident, graduate my university work in July.
So in the summer of 2008 I've been in California for a year-and-a-half. I've taught a full year of public school Biology, earned my California state teaching credential, earned a Master's of Education, and am supporting two pets instead of one. Late in the summer I make a desperate attempt to get a job in Georgia public schools, but am too late and only manage one interview at a middle school.
Year 2 starts. I'm in a such a different place this time - stable, confident, capable, and ready. Teaching is great. I make four trips back to Georgia in four months. I am recognized repeatedly by my department head and asked to host a seminar for other teachers, which went extremely well. All is well.
Except it's not. The sun sets at 5 p.m. I've reached my purpose out here. I am now comfortable with myself. I've pushed myself to the limits and succeeded. I know I can survive on my own. And that is what this move was all about. I've become something resembling an adult. I needed to know I could do this, and I did. And so there is no reason for me to be out here. It sucks at all times, and I am ready to move back to Georgia where my family, friends, and future I want to be involved in hopefully await.
Sorry, got a little cheesy there at the end. Plus this is probably shit to read, I wrote as I spoke.
New music: The Decemberists, Drive-by Truckers, the new Erykah Badu, Gaslight Anthem.
I came out to get away from home, Georgia, my social network, my "comfort" zone. I needed to move away and do something entirely on my own, I guess just to know that I could do it.
Before I left, I had no particular desire to get anything done, because I guess deep down I knew I didn't really need to get anything done. Graduating and moving home in 2006 made it very clear that I would go absolutely nuts if I didn't have a reason for existing, and by that I mean a job that I cared about, or alternatively a goal/purpose to be actively reaching towards. If I spent any extended time and my parents - we're talking hours here - I would start crawling the walls, picking fights, getting anxious, pulling my hair out, etc. So in the four months I was home I almost drowned myself in work: three jobs, two classes at Kennesaw State, successfully applying for a teaching credential/master's program in California, and finding an apartment out there. So the day after Christmas 2006, I loaded up my 1999 Honda Accord with clothes, a Super Nintendo, a cat, and finally, a purpose.
I reached Riverside on the 30th and started classes about a week later. Unemployed for five months. Accord wrecked in May. Finally got a job as a waiter at a sports bar 30 miles south, a bar that stayed open until 2 a.m. on the weekends. Around the same time I also found work as an in-home SAT tutor. During late spring I take a bus 15 miles to student-teach at a high school. Five days before the school year started in the fall of 2007, I had interviewed at four high schools and none had offered me an internship (full-time teaching without a credential). Four days before the school year starts I am offered a position.
Now I've got a day job, but the credentialing program is in full swing and between that and being completely terrified at my new job I'm working about 12-13 hours a day and sleeping 5. The year slogs on. I can't remember anything that happened except that the days and weeks ran into one long, tired cycle of driving, teaching, planning, grading, going to classes, more planning, and sleeping. I surprisingly manage to quit smoking over the Christmas break, move to a new apartment, earn my credential in April, finish the school year feeling a hundred times more confident, graduate my university work in July.
So in the summer of 2008 I've been in California for a year-and-a-half. I've taught a full year of public school Biology, earned my California state teaching credential, earned a Master's of Education, and am supporting two pets instead of one. Late in the summer I make a desperate attempt to get a job in Georgia public schools, but am too late and only manage one interview at a middle school.
Year 2 starts. I'm in a such a different place this time - stable, confident, capable, and ready. Teaching is great. I make four trips back to Georgia in four months. I am recognized repeatedly by my department head and asked to host a seminar for other teachers, which went extremely well. All is well.
Except it's not. The sun sets at 5 p.m. I've reached my purpose out here. I am now comfortable with myself. I've pushed myself to the limits and succeeded. I know I can survive on my own. And that is what this move was all about. I've become something resembling an adult. I needed to know I could do this, and I did. And so there is no reason for me to be out here. It sucks at all times, and I am ready to move back to Georgia where my family, friends, and future I want to be involved in hopefully await.
Sorry, got a little cheesy there at the end. Plus this is probably shit to read, I wrote as I spoke.
New music: The Decemberists, Drive-by Truckers, the new Erykah Badu, Gaslight Anthem.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Where's the fiddle?
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=106212521568035882004.00045bb7819236c3696ea&t=h&ll=33.872696,-117.6931&spn=0.199537,0.33989&source=embed
We live in Chino Hills, right neat Alterra Park. We're bordered by two arms of the "Freeway Fire", as they're calling it, and can see smoke and sometimes flames from our apartment. It's very nerve-wracking, having never been through this kind of disaster. Fires are much different than Georgia natural disasters, which include mostly tornadoes. A tornado is over in a night; a wildfire can last a week and shift direction with little warning. Right now we are on the edge of the evacuation lines. That is to say, we are close enough to the fire to consider evacuating somewhere, but not actually in any direct danger. So basically we have to stay awake and ready to go should the alarm be raised. The gas station down the street from us is being used to refuel CA Fire Department vehicles, ranging from ambulances to water trucks to general service vehicles. Exciting? No, no thank you. I'll pass on the fires.
We live in Chino Hills, right neat Alterra Park. We're bordered by two arms of the "Freeway Fire", as they're calling it, and can see smoke and sometimes flames from our apartment. It's very nerve-wracking, having never been through this kind of disaster. Fires are much different than Georgia natural disasters, which include mostly tornadoes. A tornado is over in a night; a wildfire can last a week and shift direction with little warning. Right now we are on the edge of the evacuation lines. That is to say, we are close enough to the fire to consider evacuating somewhere, but not actually in any direct danger. So basically we have to stay awake and ready to go should the alarm be raised. The gas station down the street from us is being used to refuel CA Fire Department vehicles, ranging from ambulances to water trucks to general service vehicles. Exciting? No, no thank you. I'll pass on the fires.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Read This Now
Excellent behind the scenes stories and information on the campaign from Newsweek. Some of this stuff is great.
Barack Obama: How He Did It
John McCain: Back From the Dead?
The Long Clinton-Obama Siege
McCain Camp Retools, Targets Obama
Conventions: Obama Sweats the Clintons, McCain Gambles on Palin
Battling It Out in the Great Debates
The Final Days
Not sure if these are going to be published in print, each "chapter" is pretty long. Enjoy!
Barack Obama: How He Did It
John McCain: Back From the Dead?
The Long Clinton-Obama Siege
McCain Camp Retools, Targets Obama
Conventions: Obama Sweats the Clintons, McCain Gambles on Palin
Battling It Out in the Great Debates
The Final Days
Not sure if these are going to be published in print, each "chapter" is pretty long. Enjoy!
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Coming to your Cit-tay
The weak are not remembered. The faint of heart, the uncommitted are left behind in the annals of history. Persons can embody truth, but it is difficult; much more common are those flimsy paper cut-outs of people, flitting through the world as the wind directs, never carrying enough weight to choose their own direction.
So that's why I'm sitting on the couch at 7:02 a.m., drinking a Dos XX, watching the College Gameday introduction. Big 'n Rich 'n the black guy in a county band telling me that they're coming to my cit-tay. I know this isn't true - maybe if I was somewhere on the east coast, back in Atlanta or Athens, I could believe they're fiddle-backed rap. But here, on the west coast, the sun hasn't risen yet. There is no dawn mist to disperse. When the sun does rise, it'll be hotter than a camel's ass, even though it is the end of October. This is not a place where college is known. Education is not embraced. Shit, high school is not embraced. So expecting to find college football fans is ludicrious.
That's why I'm sitting on my couch at 7:23 a.m. with half a beer next to me. Because there's nowhere else to go for a college football fan. Nowhere is open, and when they do, they will be showing UCLA vs. Cal, and Michigan State vs. Michigan. I cannot think of two stupider games to watch in the history of competition. Because you know what else is showing at the same time? #6 OSU vs. #1 Texas. But not here. For some reason. God I hate California.
And that's why I'm sitting on my couch at 7:30 a.m. with the last dregs of a beer. I'm fighting against the winds out here, trying to hold on to the things that I love, even if they are as silly as college football. So as the sun finally crests the stupid desert mountains, as Leslee tells me that the Bender Ball is FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHT PERCENT MORE EFFECTIVE THAN A SIT-UP, as I finish my first beer of the morning, I just have to sit up and smile and keep my hopes up... because later Gameday is doing a special on why Georgia will upset LSU.
So that's why I'm sitting on the couch at 7:02 a.m., drinking a Dos XX, watching the College Gameday introduction. Big 'n Rich 'n the black guy in a county band telling me that they're coming to my cit-tay. I know this isn't true - maybe if I was somewhere on the east coast, back in Atlanta or Athens, I could believe they're fiddle-backed rap. But here, on the west coast, the sun hasn't risen yet. There is no dawn mist to disperse. When the sun does rise, it'll be hotter than a camel's ass, even though it is the end of October. This is not a place where college is known. Education is not embraced. Shit, high school is not embraced. So expecting to find college football fans is ludicrious.
That's why I'm sitting on my couch at 7:23 a.m. with half a beer next to me. Because there's nowhere else to go for a college football fan. Nowhere is open, and when they do, they will be showing UCLA vs. Cal, and Michigan State vs. Michigan. I cannot think of two stupider games to watch in the history of competition. Because you know what else is showing at the same time? #6 OSU vs. #1 Texas. But not here. For some reason. God I hate California.
And that's why I'm sitting on my couch at 7:30 a.m. with the last dregs of a beer. I'm fighting against the winds out here, trying to hold on to the things that I love, even if they are as silly as college football. So as the sun finally crests the stupid desert mountains, as Leslee tells me that the Bender Ball is FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHT PERCENT MORE EFFECTIVE THAN A SIT-UP, as I finish my first beer of the morning, I just have to sit up and smile and keep my hopes up... because later Gameday is doing a special on why Georgia will upset LSU.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Mystery Box of Beer
Went to BevMo today. Looking for Sam Adams variety pack that didn't contain The Scotch Ale, a.k.a. The Worst Liquid Ever. No good. Wandering, wandering... what's this? Mystery Box of Beer? 24 miscellaneous bottles from separated six packs? Only $16? Into the fridge with you!
So how are we to spend the night? Randomly pulling beers out and writing one-sentence reviews of them? Damn right.
Spatan - Brown, 7.9% alcohol, German... what's not to love? It's got a sweet taste with a sort of almond thing going on. It's a little syrupy and you are definitely aware of the extra alcohol.
Buffalo Bill's America's Original Pumpkin Ale - It's like drinking a clove cigarette. It's not really pumpkiny. Tiff says: I taste cinnamon. And it tastes like pumpkin. It tastes like Halloween, when it's cold outside. It smells the way Fat Man's Forest (costume shop in Augusta) smells.
Corona Light (two in a row!) - Mexican drain clog remover. Tiff says: It's like drinking weed after that last beer. There shouldn't have been two in that box. I don't think it is cursed... yet.
Another Spatan... Methinks the mystery beer box only provides a minimum of variety. Alas! At least we obtained 24 beers for the cheap. And they are not all Corona, thank the gods!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Greatest Drinking Game Ever
This game, to my knowledge, has never been attempted. It exists as a legend, a seemingly unimaginable gauntlet of poisons. It's rules are whispered among frat boys and popped collar college kids alike. Those posturing as brave even begin to talk of assembling the necessary components. But that's all it is... talk. Deep into the night, three-quarters of a keg gone, men circle around and compare potential strategies for conquering the game. I bring it to you now, in the glaring bright of day, in the hopes that some foolhardy group will finally attempt this undertaking.
It is named... ARMAGEDDON.
This game requires preparation. It requires time - a lot of it, and possibly the last hours you'll spend on this earth. It requires two teams of five. The objective: to consume the following substances before the other team. It's like a keg race from hell. The substances, per team:
1 case of beer (24)
1 bottle of liquor (whiskey, 750 mL)
1 box of wine
1/4 oz. of marijuana (potency negotiable)
1 pack of cigarettes (20)
There you have it. The Top 5 substances abused by college students and the wider public today. The by-laws of the game are debatable but should be agreed upon - in writing - before the teams begin competition. Some sort of prize should be established for the winning team, unless the challenge is just to see who has the most hair on their chest.
The brand of beer, the type of liquor and wine, the strength of the weed, and the type/brand of cigarettes are all part of the strategy. Even more involved is, who do you put on your team? Know any smokers? Do you know a guy who can kill a bottle of tequila? Then by lobbying for the liquor to be tequila, you punish the other team while taking a strategic advantage with your Mexican ace in the hole. How do you attack these substances? Do you assign one person per, or split it up? In what order? The permutations are endless!
Armageddon is not to be taken lightly. It takes a lot of preparation and a strong commitment from ten hardy competitors. Knowing no one who has attempted this game, but I would anticipate it takes hours to complete and days to recover. So the next time someone challenges your manliness, throw down this gauntlet. It's the BadAss Games! The winners will enter into legend... the survivors will be GODS!
I'm watching the third debate right now - John McCain is a cock.
It is named... ARMAGEDDON.
This game requires preparation. It requires time - a lot of it, and possibly the last hours you'll spend on this earth. It requires two teams of five. The objective: to consume the following substances before the other team. It's like a keg race from hell. The substances, per team:
1 case of beer (24)
1 bottle of liquor (whiskey, 750 mL)
1 box of wine
1/4 oz. of marijuana (potency negotiable)
1 pack of cigarettes (20)
There you have it. The Top 5 substances abused by college students and the wider public today. The by-laws of the game are debatable but should be agreed upon - in writing - before the teams begin competition. Some sort of prize should be established for the winning team, unless the challenge is just to see who has the most hair on their chest.
The brand of beer, the type of liquor and wine, the strength of the weed, and the type/brand of cigarettes are all part of the strategy. Even more involved is, who do you put on your team? Know any smokers? Do you know a guy who can kill a bottle of tequila? Then by lobbying for the liquor to be tequila, you punish the other team while taking a strategic advantage with your Mexican ace in the hole. How do you attack these substances? Do you assign one person per, or split it up? In what order? The permutations are endless!
Armageddon is not to be taken lightly. It takes a lot of preparation and a strong commitment from ten hardy competitors. Knowing no one who has attempted this game, but I would anticipate it takes hours to complete and days to recover. So the next time someone challenges your manliness, throw down this gauntlet. It's the BadAss Games! The winners will enter into legend... the survivors will be GODS!
I'm watching the third debate right now - John McCain is a cock.
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