What were you formally taught about rape, and where did you learn it? Who have you spoken to about rape? Did your parents ever talk to you about rape? Was the topic part of any formal sex education you got in school? Have you ever attended or instructed a seminar on rape? Was it compulsory or voluntary?
1) The first memory I have of learning about rape was something my dad said about a case he had. Formally, we learned about it in health class, Sophomore year.
2) I have hundreds, if not thousands, of hours on rape, sexual abuse and the treatment of adolescent who have demonstrated sexually aggressive behaviors.
As part of my student loan, I upgraded from my aging g5 tower to the above iMac: 27″ (i7 model). I got it two weeks ago. It is enormous, pretty and blazing fast. It also has an odd screen flicker.
I tried troubleshooting it on my own–but when all the recommended cures failed to work, I called Apple.
I was on hold for a total of five minutes. By the end of my call, was directed to a specialist. Let’s call him Special K. He walked me through a few exercises and gave me a list of options:
1) Send it in, have it fixed
2) Get a new one
3) Try to bring it to a Genius at the Apple Store
4) Troubleshoot on my own a bit longer.
I went with 4. Special K thought that was a keen idea. After a few days of testing–wherein I determined that the longer the Mac was on, the more frequent the flickering became–I emailed Special K and told him what was the deal.
He called me back, on all my numbers, more than once. He also emailed me. Hell, the guy recognized my phone number when I called him back.
He gave me two options: Ship it back for repairs or get a new one. I opted for the latter. Before I knew It, I had an email with a shipping label and more directions on how the process works. When FedEx scans the old Mac, Apple ships the new one. It’s as simple as that.
This is how every customer service experience should be. It was painless. It was easy. Apple recognized that there was an issue and they are fixing it. I will be out of a Mac for about four days. I can use that time to write, read or just get to bed early. Hell, I can even check out the Java podcasts I need for my next class.
As shitty as it is to lose a computer, at least Apple is softening the blow by doing the right thing.
So here I am, filing away paperwork like a good little cog, when I get a comment from EireDuck, the creator of the book quiz. I blogged about that here.
So I did what any good cog would do. I took the quiz. Things have changed in a year. Post your new books here!
You’re A People’s History of the United States!
by Howard Zinn After years of listening to other peoples’ lies, you decided you’ve
had enough. Now you’re out to tell it like it is, with all the gory details and nothing
left out. Instead of respecting leaders, you want to know what the common people have to
offer. But this revolution still has a long way to go, and you’re not against making a
little profit while you wait. Honesty is your best policy.
On the surface, it appears that Health care and Afghanistan have one detail in common: money. How we pay for health care reform and the war is only one part of the equation. Who profits from these changes should be the second question. There is at least one other detail both plans share:
Both are throwing women under the bus.
Our vaunted health care reform seems to be removing federal dollars for abortion. The Afghan government has a less than stellar record for women’s rights. Neither health care reform nor the war in Afghanistan can succeed without taking into account what women need. Any attempt to secure some other goal–expanded coverage or more security–at the expense of women is not progress. It is regress.
So guess what I’m going to look into for December? Health Care and the War. Feel free to send me any links you think I need to read.
Somedays, words are pretty easy things to grab. Then there are the days where I cannot remember how to spell the word “the.” Today isn’t either one of those days. While the words aren’t easy for me to grab, I can at least spell the word that are coming to me. I figure this is something i just have to type through.
Typing through–working through–instance of difficult is what I’ve learned the most this month. NaNoWriMo isn’t about writing the best novel, its just about writing. It is more important that “aspiring writers” develop a routine than it is to generate 50k words in a month.
It’s kinda like practicing the Saxophone. I played one as a kid, you see, and I never developed a routine for practicing it. I used my asthma as an excuse. One of our band directors–a nice old man whose name I’ve forgotten–told me to “practice your finger positions when you can’t breath but its practice time.” I did it once, and i felt so stupid, I stopped. If I had shown any dedication to that instrument, I would have stuck with it. I played that instrument until the end of my freshman year. After I got my “Art Credit” I quit the band and went on to “cooler things,” like playing D&D with my buddy Bill.
I am still learning to write. I’ve given up on being ashamed of it. Now I’m just starting to appreciate the routine of writing, even when the words don’t come as quickly as they should.
My typical Saturday morning ritual includes: Listening to Morning Edition, Car Talk and cleaning the bathroom. I did both of these things, as well as washed a metric fuck ton of laundry. I would have liked to have done more around the house–clean up the study, bake banana bread–but I’m stuck with having a sparkling bathroom, clean dishes and fresh laundry.
There is something about a day full of a chores that drains one of motivation.
This, however, seems to have boosted my motivation slightly:
Black Friday means its a month to Christmas. Typically, this is the time of year where I get crankier. Before my parents died, it was a bit of a joke. Every family needs a grump, and I did so without being a total jackass. When my dad died, my mom, Tony and I put up a brave front. When my mom died, Tony and I tried a variety of ways to keep our spirits up, but for the past two years, I didn’t bother.
In short: Christmas sucks.
I can pretend that it is about the over-commercialization of Christmas, the pressure of buying gifts and my hatred of Christmas music (I really do hate Holiday Music). The fact of the matter is I miss my parents. As much as I miss them, I don’t being an as is really the best way to deal with missing them.
Instead of wallowing in grief, this year I’m really going to make an effort not to be a grump. Who knows, maybe we’ll even get a tree this year.
