A Whole New Mind

I got my first set of business cards today at school :). Makes me feel more official and professional, despite being on a third year teaching. Nevertheless, my first group of kids pissed me off a little, and it doesn't help to also be sick. Though not quite coughing lungs out, I feel a tenuous suppression of painful, mucusy coughs. I am frustrated at how hard it feels to teach sometimes, or when kids start acting up. I know there are ups and downs with this job, but days like this make me question whether I was cut out for this. It's part of the reason why I'm jumping ship and going for dentistry (besides finances..). Another part of me thinks that I just need more experience. I hate the insecure belief that I might not be the kind of "tough" or "think on your feet" person who could handle the stupid crap that kids would throw on me.

Still, these days motivate me to do things like get more organized with teaching and calling parents, which are things that a good teacher should do anyway.... so I can't feel crummy when it's a bit of a motivating factor. It's just hard to swallow pride to realize that I need to get better. *Sigh*

There's just SO much I want to do, with teaching and with personal goals and I feel ineffective at tackling these responsibilities because of getting overwhelmed and/or procrastinating.

Anyway, the title of this post is named after a book that I'm finishing up by Daniel Pink called A Whole New Mind. I got the book for free from my school to give the teachers an idea of how to motivate students at a design school to know what design is. I find this to be a bit of a challenge since I'm teaching math and chemistry, which doesn't quite speak to the right hemisphere. Either way, the book is great for personal reasons, and hopefully I can continue to learn how to be more innovative and creative, 2 traits that I feel particularly weak in. How to go about it is still a bit of a mystery, but at least it's in the back of my mind.

The premise of the book is that while society has typically pressured professionals to enter the professions that are very left-brained, ultimately the trend will allow right-brainers to "rule the future." The differences between left-brained and right-brained cannot be seen as black and white. There are still major connections between the two halves. For simplicity's sake, L-hemisphere is very logical, literal, and sequential, while the R-hemisphere is the creativity, synthesis, harmony, and overall big picture setter. The book isn't saying that artists will take over the world. But it says that while L-brainers have highly specialized skills, the rise of Asia (much cheaper engineerings from China or India) and automation (computers) will reduce the demand for purely L-brained tasks. Instead, people who can cross both boundaries, see connections in ways that others don't, and be innovative will be the ones who succeed.

While reading this book, I realized even more that I don't want to be a purely analytical, logical person to the point of no return. In high school, I took pride in being a science and math nerd and wanted to be unemotional and logical all the time. It's a strange desire, I know, and it was a very awkward stage. I don't think I would have succeeded anyway because I was emotional enough already. I'm not saying that science/math people are unemotional. I was just striving for knowledge and didn't want anything else to get in the way. Either way, I know that's not the way to go, and I feel too much already to ever let it happen if I wanted.

At work, I feel surrounded by so many creative and innovative people, whether it's teachers or students. And yes, I have felt insecure at perhaps being a "boring" teacher who can't think of awesome projects like so many other teachers can. I want to design my teacher website to be visually engaging and useful, and my classroom feels drab still. While I don't want to take away from the content of the class, it'd just be nice to have that extra individual touch. It's just not how I was raised, or something I prioritized until now. It means there's more catching up to do... and I hope not to be so ingrained with old ways to be hard to budge.

I can't seem to shake off this feeling that my writing is so scatterbrained...but that's just my blogging experience? Bleh.

Just want to not be sick (either with a virus or allergies, I don't even know).



P.S. Last weekend was pretty cool. Got to see Muse in concert with my sister and in a strange way, made friends with a pseudo stray orange cat - which probably aggravated allergies.

Lessons from Lil Wayne

Pillows stacked behind me, I'm propped up against the wall, with feet secure in my blanket, left hand on the keyboard, and right in a bucket of animal crackers. Playing hooky can be exciting, except when you're coughing out pieces of lung. I'm wearing cerulean pajama pants splotched with obnoxious neon blue goldfish. My granny-panties are so loose that I'm pretty sure I could use them to catch air and go gliding. My hair sits on top of my head in a bun reminiscent of a sea urchin. Of course, I tidy this 'do up with licks of saliva and a pinstriped headband. Three words: epitome of sexy.

George Hamilton

I'd been feeling lethargic for the last few weeks and thought I'd get a panel of metabolic blood work done. Good news is that I'm not anemic (I have a history of iron-deficiency anemia); bad (?) news is that I'm vitamin D deficient. Bizarre, considering that I live in Southern California, land of skin cancer and George Hamilton wannabes.

Anyway, I decided to take my doctor's advice and headed to the pharmacy. I sifted through bottles of vitamin D supplemental goodness. Gel caplets? Pill form? 400 IU? 2000 IU? I'd better ask the pharmacist.

I hunched over to the counter and asked for my prescription cough syrup.

Shopgirl: Also, could you tell me which of these bottles of vitamin D is--

Pharmacist: No, you don't want any of those. [He shimmies through the counter and promptly returns with another bottle.] You'll want this bottle instead.

Shopgirl: [I look at him blankly.] I'm sorry, what's the difference?

Pharmacist: [Blinking twice through his Mr. Magoo glasses] Well I suppose you could buy this bottle of 400 IU. But then you'd have to take it three or four times a day. Or, you could just sit out in the sun.

I wasn't sure if he was kidding but decided that his serious face called for serious action. I opted out of the lesser quantities of vitamin D and purchased my promethazine DM and Nature Made vitamin D, 2000 IU per pill, which, by the way, is five times the daily requirement.

I spent the rest of the day in a floaty haze, high as hell off of cough syrup. I passed out around 10 PM last night and woke up at two in the morning with an everlasting hacking cough. I reached over to my side table for my promethazine. No time to get a spoon, I thought. I twisted the bottle cap off and took a healthy swig. This must be what it's like to be Lil Wayne!

Lil Wayne, probably sippin' on some
sizzurp. Note that there is a "C" tat-
tooed in between his eyebrows. May-
be he forgot his initials.

I remember sitting on an airplane, reading an article about Lil Wayne and how he was addicted to cough syrup, or rather, sizzurp. Oh, that's what that is? Something about getting high off of "grape" or "cherry" flavored Robitussin or Dimetap seemed... I don't know... clever? Really? No, not really.

It's lunch time and I just took another swig of the stuff. It really is convenient not having to carry a measuring cup or spoon around. Time for a nap!

Sippin' on some sizzurp,
Shopgirl.

Insomnia: 3; Me: -2

Plagued again by my persistent insomnia, I thought I'd actually get out of bed this time and get productive.

Carey Mulligan
Vogue Oct 2010

On a rampant drawing spree, I designed my Halloween costume (Michaels, here I come!), sketched a self-portrait, and got a little fanciful with Carey Mulligan's cover on Vogue. (Please pardon the crappiness in the photo--the iPhone, despite its superior features, has the most incapable camera of its smartphone peers.)

Something about the teeter-tottering of a pen or pencil in my hand is therapeutic. Whether writing or drawing, every whisk of such a simple, yet elegant tool serves purpose. A conservative scribble denotes a harsh, solid sternness, while a flirtatious swish portrays a soothing catharsis. Every mark has intention--you control it, inputing as much energy or emotion in every curve as needed.

I was never one to focus wholeheartedly into any kind of activity, except when pursuing artistic ventures. Before I found myself wrapped up in education then medicine, I spent most of my time dabbling in art. In retrospect, I don't think that I could focus on anything longer than ten minutes, unless I was working on art. To think about it, I don't know how I made it to medical school, considering my poor memory and that I have the attention span of a two-year-old. My ADHD diagnosis is pending! No, seriously.

The time on the clock is 6:51 AM. It's time to hop in the shower and make it to class today!

Hoping for a productive day,
Shopgirl.

Sorry I'm not home right now--I'm currently pushing a catheter through an artificial penis.

"Sorry I'm not home right now. I'm walking
through a spiderweb, so leave a message and
I'll call you back!" Anybody remember that
song? No? Ok, fine.

Scooby: ...I just know that if I really wanted to make time for someone, I would.

Shopgirl: Scooby, we have a great time together, but I'm just really busy.

Scooby: I don't understand. I feel like you're avoiding me. I mean, when I ask you to hang out, it's like you're purposely trying to avoid me.

Shopgirl: It's not that I'm purposely trying to avoid you. You can't call me one day and just expect me to be free. When I tell you that I'm busy, I'm legitimately busy.

Scooby: What about when you're not busy?

Shopgirl: I don't know, Scooby--I don't have free time often, but when I do, I just want to be goofy and do stupid girly things.

Scooby: That's what I'm trying to figure out. I mean--why can't we do goofy stuff together?

Shopgirl: Scooby, you don't get it. You're demanding. We're not even committed to each other and you are already expecting too much from me.

Scooby: No, no--that's not true. I think you're being a little condescending.

Shopgirl: Huh? Scooby, please try to understand. I can't give you what you want. I don't have a lot of free time, so I--

Scooby: I do understand. What I don't get is why we can't together enjoy some of the little time you have.

Shopgirl: Because if anybody is going to get any of my free time, I want to savor every moment.

Scooby: Yeah, isn't that what we have?


No, this is not "Confessions of a commitment-phobe, Part Deux" (see "Confessions of a commitment-phobe"). Contrary to what my nearest and dearest might tease me of, I'm no ice princess. My refusal to commit is perfectly valid for this reason: I don't have much free time, so if I'm going to share any of my free time with anybody, I don't want to have to explain myself. In fact, I don't have time to explain myself.

Maybe this reason is a bit unreasonable for some, but I cannot imagine committing to someone who needed a one-hour explanation for fundamental principles I live by. In addition, my time is divided amongst many people. That makes men jealous. Most people I spend time with are men. That makes men even more jealous, but I can't help it if I grew up a dude in a girl's body.

The point is, it's not about making anybody jealous. It's not even about playing elusive or hard-to-get. This may be shocking to some, but not all women are looking for a boyfriend. (And please don't misconstrue the previous statement as something equivalent to "single female looking for a bedtime buddy" or lesbianism. Yes, I get this question often, if you must wonder.)

According to many men, I'm a difficult person to share a commitment with. My response? I'm inordinately busy and need a truly confident partner. That is--he's got to understand that while I don't have much time to give, the little time that we do share is time savored and undeniably appreciated. Please let go of your insecurities--my gratitude is real and obvious, if not explicit. I don't sugar coat--in fact, I don't have time to sugar coat.

So what about Scooby and me? We are just incompatible. Do I ever wonder if I'll meet my match? Often, but I'm not on a treasure hunt. Nor do I care for fool's gold.

Thank you for putting up with my ramble. I despise writing lengthy posts, but I know you were absolutely torn about my not posting for months. (Lucky you!)

Likely to celebrate Single Awareness Day 2011,
Shopgirl.


P.S. If you were wondering, I left my teaching career to learn the art of penile catheterization.

Friday night ramblings

I've been meaning to come back here so many times, but writing is intimidating. Somehow the thoughts in my head sound a lot better than on paper (or screen). Either way, might as well jump into it and record another moment in a fleeting life. :)

I just wrapped up the fourth week of school and have officially worked full-time for six weeks now. It's funny to hear about how the school year just started for the majority of other people, but for me, I'm starting to get into a routine. There are many kinks in my systems that need to be worked out and figuring out how to manage all the responsibilities (big and small) will always be in the works. Nevertheless, working at this new school has been one of the best decisions I've made. Otherwise I would have stagnated at my old teaching job and not learned much more except how to be more jaded with the education system. Here, I face new and different challenges that will push me to grow as a teacher and as a person. Even if this school is a transitional year to hopefully a career in health care. I'm young enough, with little responsibility to anyone else and can expend the energy and time to develop new skills.

I don't want to believe that my moods are cyclical, especially for lunar reasons, but it feels that way a lot sometimes. Either way, I feel on the uprise. Despite the racked up sleep debt and missed gym times, I feel genuinely reminded of how good my life is. It's so easy to forget that and not internalize the luckiness of it all, instead wishing for better things. While I don't claim misery, it's easy to feel blah and a lack of happiness when focusing on things that haven't worked. Part of this stems from wanting to accomplish more at work and not feeling satisfied with what I've done. There has been some guilt as to not getting up earlier to get to work, but then there's only so much one person can do. Netflix, fun reading, friends, cooking, doing anything else besides work is essential, even if I still feel a little guilty trying to fit some "me" time in.

Over the past couple months, I have struggled with feelings of loneliness and (shame to admit) frustration at singlehood. Although the freedom couldn't come at a better time, and now that I've been single longer now than ever before, I felt silly for wondering and waiting for something to come along. While I'm perfectly capable of spending my days alone or with family and friends and will continue to do so, there have been moments where I'd sit and wonder if there would be anyone out there for me. I know, people look at me and would scoff that there's many more years to go, and I completely agree. It just can get a little weird when I try making acquaintance with a stranger only to find that he is a tad younger than I am. As each year passes, then more potential acquaintances will be younger. But then, oh well.

Part of the frustrations of single-hood was not just the fact of being single, but being annoyed with always knowing that I'm watching for the so-called "one" or even just someone dateable. I mean, shouldn't I be frolicking with all this freedom of choice? No one to tell me where to go or what to do (besides work)? No one to negotiate with or compromise with? After all, if I follow society's patten, then give some years and I'll be tied to a house, kids, a marriage, and a lifelong career. Heavy stuff! And certainly not ready. So why was/do I feel ready to latch on to someone? These times will certainly be missed in the future, so why not enjoy them to the fullest now?


At least today, I feel much better about this freedom. I've been reading a lot of books lately for the time I have, and a few simultaneously. It's a random selection but gives a glimpse to different realms. I went beyond the normal taste and read Watchmen, for one thing. Perhaps it wasn't savored as much as it could have been, but I felt like my brain would rot a bit if I spent more time on it. Not to say it isn't a classic, but I doubt I'll read other comics that movies were based off of (Sin City, V for Vendetta, which both impressed me). Then there's a super girly book called "It's called a breakup because it's broken," written by the same author as "He's just not that into you." I have to say both books are enjoyable reads! Even though they have such common sense advice, it is reassuring to read it delivered in such a witty, understanding way. These books are helping me reshape attitudes towards singlehood after all. Then there's "How to Slice an Onion" and "A Whole New Mind." So many good books, so little time!

A Whole New Mind is an amazing book. It speaks to a side of my brain that I've neglected or felt incapable of culturing. Although the left and right hemispheres can be easily seen as black and white, they can't be divided so easily. It's hard to explain. Either way, I've felt very L-directed all my life and would like a change. Working as a math/science teacher at a school of design gives me a slight identity crisis (though not really). But it does give some food for thought - how do I interest a bunch of students who feel that they can't "do math or science" into believing that they can and will? How do I, as an individual, who felt more comfortable and majored science because of how her parents' backgrounds and culture set her up for it, break out of simple linear thinking and see the world in a different lens? I don't want to forsake my old way of thinking, but be able to appreciate the design and culture more in depth. It's hard. I chose L-directed thinking because while material seems very technical, it requires little creativity and I didn't have to put forth effort at improvising.

It'd be nice to know how to put together a toolbox of skills and talents into a product that says, this is me. Even something as simple as improv dancing, or just having more witty conversation, instead of choking up when someone throws a curveball at me. I guess that's what I really want. I guess that's why I signed up for more hip hop dance classes, even if it's expensive, and will hope for more chances of salsa dancing with friends, or even I dare say, an introductory class at a pole/burlesque dance studio. It's for female empowerment, I swear! And thanks to Groupon.