Callistonian.net

I returned from Japan a few weeks ago. I love Japan, and it was great fun, but …

I was ill. I had a wretched cough and no voice. I almost died several times due to laughter induced coughing fits. The worst was when a friend forced me to laugh with one of his 2,331,223,294,394,233,231 unsponsored iPod Touch advertisements. After hearing about how this less than one week old iPod Touch was so slim, about how it had wireless, about how it had Skype, about how it could be used to display random facts, about how it could be used as a light saber, about how it could (not) be used as a dictionary, about how it could be used as a flashlight, etc. 12,123, 239, 223 times in a less than three day span, this happened.

An approximate re-telling of the particularly offensive commercial:
setting: the lights are out & its late at night

a: what’s that noise?
b: my iPod Touch makes soothing wave sounds. they help you fall asleep.
i laugh and almost die as the obsession can no longer be denied.
a *after recovering from her own laughter*: o_O wtf?
b: do you want to hear forest noises instead?
a: …

The sound goes on for about 2 minutes.

For the record, there was nothing soothing about those ocean noises. The sound looped every 8 or so seconds. It stopped abruptly, in a terribly jarring way, and then started again. -___-;

a: TURN IT OFF!

Anyway, I was sick. My friend, his iPod, and my other friend took the hotel shuttle to Tokyo Disney early the next morning. As I was sick, I was going to go to the pharmacy when it opened, get some meds, and take the train to Disney (the shuttle only ran from the hotel to the park during morning hours), and meet them in front of the Haunted Mansion in the afternoon. Things didn’t quite work out.

I wen to the pharmacy. I got my medicine (aka souped up cough drops). So far, so good. When I was trying to get to Tokyo Disney, the trains randomly broke down—thank goodness I could understand Japanese—my 30 minute trip turned into 4 hours of … something terrible. I didn’t even get lost, though.

I got my refund from the people working at the station. I walked to another one (yay detour?). I got on another train. I walked to the Disney bus stop and thought, “OMG!”—the bus line was hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people long. T_T  After 240 minutes or thereabouts, I finally reached Disney. Nonetheless, it sucked because I couldn’t find my friends.

I spent my time at Disney all alone. I rode one ride (it’s A Small World). I also wasted about 63 minutes vainly searching for familiar faces. Finally, I decided enough was enough. I left.

I spent another 240 minutes getting back to my hotel—Just kidding. Actually, there was no way I was enduring those kinds of epic lines again. I took the limousine bus/shuttle bus back to my hotel. I didn’t know if the driver was going to let me on the bus, because I didn’t do anything you were supposed to in regards to that (e.g. get a ticket). So I was upfront with him, and said things like “Hi! :) I don’t have a ticket. I didn’t make a reservation, either. :) But I’m staying at this hotel. I have a key. :) Here it is. PLEASE let me on the bus. Thank you.”

In the midst of all that, I lost my $400 dictionary. No joke.

Here’s a secret. I’ve been in my new place for almost a month, but I’ve yet to properly dispose of some of my trash (food). It’s not as disgusting as it seems. First, I don’t have a lot of food trash because cooking isn’t my friend; I don’t eat at my apartment a lot. Second, all the food I want to throw out is in my freezer. It’s just leftover stuff that I don’t want to re-heat and eat.

The problem is that I’m not allowed to throw food out with other trash.  Where I live, food is disposed of in these monstrous blue bins. I’ve heard - I’ve yet to look - that there are disgusting little creatures living in these bins. Regardless, the area has more than its fair share of flies and the concrete is damp and sticky.

Properly disposing of food wouldn’t be such a problem if I could just chuck my trash in the bin and run away, but I can’t. I have to touch the bins. I have to open them. I think that I might die vomit.

I know it’s completely prissy behavior, but I hate bugs. I hate them so much; they make me cry. I’m currently looking for plastic gloves.  As soon as I find gloves, I might endeavor …

What do you think? Would you be able to touch something with thousands of maggots (potentially) in it?

What would you do if you had old textbooks you wished to get rid of, and someone told you, “I’m sorry, but you can’t sell any of those books” ?

On the backs of their textbooks, some particularly avaricious universities have started printing, “This book may not be sold.” If the books were originally sold at heavily discounted prices, if they were copied illegally, if they were printed off the Internet … then maybe this policy would make a bit of sense. But they weren’t, so it doesn’t make any sense.

University students can easily spend hundreds of dollars on textbooks each semester. Used books save trees and help keep prices down. Used books are good, right?

What annoys me the most about this is that legally “this book may not be sold” is weightless nonsense.  Publishers may print whatever they wish on the backs of their books. “The pages in this book may not be folded over.” “You may not write in this book.” “You may only open this book after 5PM on Wednesdays.”

But statements like that are not enforceable.  If I buy a book, I may write my name in it. If a publisher dislikes that, oh well - it sucks for her. :P Instead of printing unenforceable rubbish, publishers should save their ink!

It’s just terrible that universities go along with such nonsense. Aren’t they getting enough money out of their students already? Do they really need to cut crooked deals with publishers?

You make your students buy this overpriced version of this particular book, and we’ll give you $3 for every one we sell. *wink wink*  But remember, the deal is off if you even think about letting them resell their books. We won’t be undermined.

If you’re interested, here’s a proper article on “custom” textbooks.

On my last entry, I got such wonderful comments. Thank you! :) I didn’t realize that half of them were there until yesterday - I’m sorry - they got stuck in moderation.

Some kid’s ignorant classmate said, “Ah~ How can you not be good at math? You’re Asian! Wow. I’m going to tell my parents I did better than the Asian kid!”

One of my pet peeves: stereotypes. I am not fond of them; I hate them. People who incessantly employ them irritate me.

I teach; I volunteer. I help students with their math. Sometimes, I help—gasp!—people of Asian ancestry. When students tell me that their being Asian coupled with their being less than stellar at math causes their classmates to tease them, I get annoyed. Picking on someone’s ethnic background has been out of style for, at least, 50 years, amirite?

It’s bad enough that the kids are struggling. Shame on anyone who makes them feel less human or less Asian because of it. “You can’t really be Asian. Come on, I did better than you on this… You were probably adopted and just don’t know it yet.”

Also, shame on those who, without joking, attribute their mathematical abilities to their being Asian.

X: How’d you know that? Wow.
Y: Duh’. I don’t need to try. I’m naturally good at math. I’m Azn.

Okay—so because I’m not Asian, I’m going to suck at math? :( Or if I were Asian and still sucked at it, something would be terribly wrong with me?

Other annoying people feel that such stereotypes are wonderful. They get rather huffy when the subject is brought up. “OMG, you’re Asian. You can’t complain about racism. Your stereotypes are all good! You guys are good at math. You guys are frugal…ugh.”

I don’t know about them, but I don’t see anything particularly good or progressive about being held to a higher standard than the rest of your peers, simply because of your race, and then being looked down upon if you can’t meet it.

I haven’t had any personal experience with the subject, though. I’m black and female, so 99.9% of my stereotypes are bad. Sadness. Something that irks me, though, is that it seems… a lot of people assume that I’m part Asian or something because, “Like, OMGz, I’m not an idiot.”

What experiences have you had with stereotypes?

Traditionally, the Ides of March—RIP Caesar— has treated me poorly. If there’s ever a day when I’m late to work, it will be March 15th. If there’s ever a day when my car breaks down, it will be March 15th. If there’s ever a day when I drop my cell phone and it shatters into a bajillion pieces, it will be March 15th.

What’s gone wrong today?

I forgot my dear drunken panda umbrella somewhere. It’s irreplaceable!  I’m hoping that I left it behind at work. It’s cute, so I doubt that any of my coworkers or students will see past the deceptive pandas… If someone does, I’m sure that (s)he’ll be properly perplexed by the pandas’ cutesy inappropriateness.

Oh—and once on March 15th, I was rushed to the doctor and got 19 stitches. That was fun. :(

I hate March 15th; I want my umbrella back. But I’m not pessimistic or superstitious, so the rest of the day is going to be wonderful, seriously.  Today is my sister’s birthday. XD

Happy Birthday Cynthia! ♥