#Cea Ask Week

[a-shy-mimiktwo]

Oh, I know why you look so unique Cea! It’s cause you’re a shiny Eevee, right?

“Yep! Just your average shiny eevee!”

^w^

“Although, I don’t remember telling you my name… Oh well! Maybe I did and I just forgot.”

[mariacallous]

U.S. President Donald Trump maintains a hostile relationship with expertise. His disdain has been on full display as he dismissed warnings from a majority of economists about implementing widespread tariffs. As a result, he has sent global markets into a tailspin, threatening a deep recession. While surrounded by a few sympathetic economists pushing a “degrowth agenda,” Trump has defied the most respected voices on this issue.

The president’s unorthodox decisions should not come as a surprise. He governs by instinct. “I have a gut,” Trump explained in 2018, “and my gut tells me more sometimes than anybody else’s brain can ever tell me.” (When asked last week about how he came up with a period of 90 days for the pause on implementing most of his tariffs, Trump answered, “just instinctively.”)

Trump has not made a secret of his deep distrust for experts who spend their time buried in data, analysis, and scholarly literature. His fierce attacks on the university system have revealed how little he respects vital sources of generating new knowledge. His cabinet appointments have generally reflected a disregard for individuals immersed in issue areas with demonstrated capacity to manage large bureaucracies.

And perhaps most consequentially, Trump has made a high-stakes bet on tariffs without a cadre of independent-minded economists surrounding him, creating the real risk of a global economic crisis.

But as with so much else about Trump, what seems unprecedented has historical roots. The president’s decision to pursue a jerry-built tariff structure is a product of the increasingly strained marriage between presidents and experts—a marriage that was consummated in the post-World War II and Cold War eras.

It seems like it was a different world when politicians understood the value of expertise in governance.

The distance that we have traveled is evident when looking back at the formation of the Council of Economic Advisors in 1946. Coming out of the war, many government officials perceived some level of expertise as an asset for economic growth, national security, and safeguarding the nation’s character. The federal government’s scale and scope had expanded dramatically. The new national security apparatus and the United States’ entrance into international alliances meant that Washington would be permanently engaged overseas. After all, the creation of the atomic bomb had erased the insulation from serious threats that the Atlantic and Pacific oceans had once provided.

The institutionalization of expertise within the executive branch became an important goal following a legislative struggle that unfolded in 1945. A coalition of congressional liberals, led by Sens. James Murray of Montana and Robert Wagner of New York, pushed legislation that committed the federal government to achieve full employment through macroeconomic policy. By adjusting spending and taxation, the bill promised that Washington would help ensure the highest possible employment levels. As originally proposed, the bill would have required the federal government to publish a national production and employment budget indicating what steps the government needed to take to achieve full employment, from which point the government would establish policies to help achieve those ambitious goals.

While liberal interest groups, including organized labor, mobilized behind the legislation, the proposal encountered fierce opposition from the business community and congressional conservatives, who warned that the legislation would result in a dangerous expansion of the federal government akin to communism.

When the legislation finally passed in 1946, Congress had stripped away some of the boldest components of the Employment Act. However, the bill did establish the Council of Economic Advisors (CEA). This body of economists was created with the intention of enhancing the tools that presidents had at their disposal to make sound decisions.

Within the executive branch, there had been a reluctance to embrace this idea, as most presidents tend to fear voices who are too independent. Then-Treasury Secretary Fred Vinson unsuccessfully pushed for an alternative, a body of economists that would be a cabinet-level committee. But Murray and Wagner’s vision won out.

The legislation placed CEA in the Executive Office of the President and charged the body with providing the president with top-level, independent expertise. It outlined a number of major functions that the economists would be responsible for handling, including generating sound economic forecasts and appraising “various programs and activities of the federal government.” The economists would make recommendations based on research rather than political considerations. And the council was composed of nonpartisan economists to prevent presidents from formulating policy in a political echo chamber that shielded them from the difficult risks and trade-offs of potential proposals.

According to the final measure, the president was granted the responsibility of appointing the body’s three members, all of whom would need to be confirmed by the Senate. One of the appointees would be named as the chair. Congress would provide the CEA with adequate funding to recruit professional staff.

President Harry Truman appointed Edwin Nourse from the Brookings Institution as the first chair of the CEA alongside Leon Keyserling—a staffer for Wagner who had crafted most of the legislation—and the economist John D. Clark. Nourse was a respected economist and a former president of the American Economic Association, which had the strong support of business leaders.

The CEA slowly emerged as a trusted body of advisors to presidents, Democrats and Republicans alike, who were able to tap into some of the finest minds of the academy to join as staff.

Having put aside his initial concerns, in 1947, Truman praised the CEA in an economic report to Congress. “This Act wisely provided for a Council of Economic Advisers to the President,” Truman said, “who as a result of training, experience, and attainments are exceptionally qualified to analyze and interpret economic developments, to appraise programs and activities of the Government and to formulate and recommend national economic policy.” The CEA’s analysis was instrumental to the economic components of the NSC-68, a policy document that the administration released in 1950 to map out a massive increase in defense spending.

Part of what ultimately gave Truman solace about the council was Keyserling, who emerged as an influential voice, shifting the CEA toward an agenda rooted in Keynesian economics that accepted the realities of deficit spending as a prerequisite to achieving a strong economy. When Nourse, who was more fiscally conservative, resigned from the council in 1949, Truman promoted Keyserling to the position of chairman.

The council solidified its bipartisan standing under President Dwight Eisenhower. The former war hero was also leery of the economists, who he feared would be too liberal in their outlook. There was a sense that Keyserling had become too political in his orientation. Yet Eisenhower also understood the value of expertise. His concerns lessened after appointing a more conservative chair, Arthur Burns, to take over from Keyserling. Burns elevated the standing of the chairman and strengthened ties with the country’s universities.

The bipartisan triumph of the CEA during the Eisenhower administration made sense, given that a belief in expertise was prevalent throughout U.S. culture at the time.

Universities were booming in the 1950s, a source of immense national pride in the so-called American Century. The federal government poured millions of dollars into institutions of higher learning, realizing that research, education, and the strength of the nation went hand in hand. Millions of Americans attended college, often for the first time in their family, through generous government assistance such as the postwar GI Bill of Rights. Classrooms were overflowing when the baby boom brought unprecedented numbers of students into the schools. Many academic disciplines that had formed decades earlier—such as economics, political science, and psychology—flourished and reached new levels of analytical sophistication. Experts were a pronounced presence in public culture, even. In her book The Romance of American Psychology, historian Ellen Herman suggests that psychologists impacted the “texture of public life” in this era.

The tension between balanced analysis and political advocacy was never completely resolved, as historian Michael Bernstein describes in his book A Perilous Progress, but the council was able to do a relatively good job developing a reputation as being a source of sound social scientific advice.

Over the next few decades, the CEA would continue to play a big role in deliberations over some of the most consequential presidential decisions, from Lyndon Johnson’s war on poverty to Barack Obama’s stimulus bill in 2009.

As President Jimmy Carter’s CEA chair, Charles Schultze, put it in a 1984 interview with the New York Times, “The council’s job is to be concerned with how efficiently the economy operates. It has no outside clientele to please, unlike the economists in the Labor Department, Agriculture or other agencies, who will argue for their own programs. There’s no place else where the President can regularly get disinterested economic advice.”

As Erwin C. Hargrove and Samuel A Morley —the co-editors of a book on the CEA, The President and the Council of Economic Advisors��argued that year: “The president has a strong incentive to seek good economic advice on the theory that knowledge is to be preferred to ignorance. It does not follow that the president acts on the advice; there may be short-run political reasons not to do so. However, the politics of choice is still enhanced by knowledge. The president should know, and want to know, both the economic and political costs and benefits of alternative choices.”

Since the 1980s, the CEA has struggled to be relevant in a much more contentious environment. Conservative assaults on expertise have been building since then-President Ronald Reagan considered eliminating the council in 1984 following high-profile battles with the CEA’s then-chairman, Martin Feldstein.

Economists in the White House have had to survive in a fractious and fragmented national culture where disinformation, conspiracy theories, and manipulated data have gained a strong hold on the national dialogue. Institutions that house experts have suffered from a similar loss of trust as Congress, presidents, and the press.

Finally, the CEA has had to compete with new sources of expertise within the executive branch, such as the National Economic Council, which President Bill Clinton created through executive order in 1993.

Based on what we have learned thus far, Trump does not make decisions based on independent economic advice. In his second term, the president has purposely surrounded himself with individuals who arrived from outside professional networks of trusted experts. He has only opened the door to his inner circle figures, whom he knew would agree with whatever he had to say.

As economist Paul Krugman noted to the New York Times in an interview in early April, economist Robert Lighthizer—a tough protectionist who is respected by many economists given his deep knowledge—was not invited into Trump’s second administration: “People assumed he would play a big role in this administration, but he was passed over—and almost for sure, that’s because he is independent. He’s his own man. He didn’t come to this out of fealty to Donald Trump. So he might actually say to the king: No, not tariffs on Bangladesh.”

Even with his doctorate from Harvard University, Trump CEA Chairman Stephen Miran is not a traditional CEA chair. In addition to serving as a senior official in the Treasury Department during Trump’s first term, the strong tariff advocate has worked as a senior strategist at a hedge fund and has been intensely political. He donated to Trump-affiliated political action committees and has been an open and vocal critic of the Federal Reserve and former President Joe Biden’s proposals.

As the past two weeks have revealed, there was a good reason that expertise was important to presidents in the second half of the 20th century—a lesson that has been forgotten. The magnitude of the decisions facing presidents and the global ramifications of any single policy choice require sophisticated analysis. The CEA has never been an insurance policy against bad decisions, and many of its advisors have mistakenly lent support to poor choices, but their independent analysis has been an important guide and source of pushback before presidents pull the economic trigger.

Gut instinct is not sufficient for effective governance. Too much is at stake in our interconnected economy, where government decisions have massive effects. When presidents refuse to listen to anyone who makes decisions based on what they learn from researching the data, as opposed to following polls and political experts, then the nation will find itself at risk.

And this is exactly where the United States has landed as we stand on the precipice of a major self-inflicted economic disaster.

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ] part 14

An entire week has elapsed since the day you woke up and found yourself imprisoned in a cell, trapped in the basement of an old shed; and you only knew about the shed because of Simon’s slip-up. He revealed he transported you from his home to a remote property he owned on the outskirts of the city, accessible only via a narrow gravel road. Previously, you assumed you were being kept in the basement of his house. However, when you discovered this wasn’t the case, the reality hit you like a brick wall. You spent an entire day crying, knowing that your chances of being found by someone were slim to none.

Later, you were forced to face another harsh truth. Simon was in possession of your phone. He knew your password and he could respond to any incoming notifications, keeping up the illusion that you were perfectly fine. This prevented anyone from suspecting your absence. Even your colleagues at work had no reason to worry about your sudden disappearance, thanks to your stupidity.

Simon had offered to release you, promising to let you go if you agreed to call your workplace and inform them you were taking a month-long leave of absence. Naively, you complied. However, once the call ended, Simon seized the phone from your grasp, leaving you to stew in your own regret and frustration, painfully aware of the gravity of your mistake.

On a few rare occasions, while you would succumb to a restless slumber, he started hauling things into the cell. First, he brought a mattress for you to lie on. The mattress looked old, was small and had a few stains on it, but it was a welcome change to sleeping on the hard, damp ground, which caused you to wake up every morning with a stiff back.

Simon’s unexpected act of consideration didn’t stop at the mattress. There was one time when you had offhandedly mentioned feeling cold, murmuring it more to yourself than speaking directly to him. But he didn’t let your quiet comment slide and responded by supplying you with a pile of blankets, a few more pillows, and an assortment of clothing.

He even proposed that you could take a bath if you wished to, an offer you met with desperate enthusiasm. However, when he clarified that this bath would not involve you being escorted to a proper bathroom, but rather consisted of him providing a bucket of hot water, a washcloth, and a towel, you changed your mind. Your desire for cleanliness was strong, but not so strong as to succumb to such indignity.

Adding to the small collection of items he had already brought into the cell, Simon also gave you a selection of books. Upon examining them, you realised that these were your books taken from your home. The sight of familiar possessions was a strange comfort and a chilling reminder of the life you’ve been abruptly torn away from.

Simon had developed a routine of feeding you three times a day. Each meal was predictably similar, delivered in nondescript brown paper bags that hinted it was a takeout. On two special occasions, he surprised you with a meal from your favourite restaurant; the last time he did so, an unsettling realisation dawned upon you. It was clear that you needed to reevaluate your behaviour, to reassess the defensive walls you had built around yourself.

After the initial shock of being kidnapped had worn off, and the reality of your grim situation sunk in, you became acutely aware that your chances of escaping the basement alive were slim if you continued to antagonise Simon. So, slowly, you began to change your attitude.

You stopped ignoring him, breaking the silence that had previously defined your interactions with him. You took back the words you had said, explaining to Simon that you didn’t hate him, and you only said it because you were scared. He was sceptical. You could tell by the way he looked at you. But over time, the relief and joy in his eyes became evident whenever you opened your mouth, even if it was to ask for water or tell him you were hungry.

Additionally, you ceased your daily pleas for freedom, which you had previously insisted upon at least five times a day. You knew begging to be let out was pointless, and you shouldn’t even ask for that until you regained his trust, and convinced him you still loved him and would not tell a soul of what had occurred.

“I know you don’t want to let me go home yet,” you uttered, your words filling the air and severing the silence.

Simon was sitting on the ground next to the cell, a phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. You two, before he would leave for a night, would talk. The conversations were mostly about nothing, and sometimes he barely said a word, which meant you had to do all the talking, but these talks were essential because, even if Simon didn’t realise it, he was lowering down his guard.

“But maybe... just maybe... we could... you could take me outside?” It took all your courage to ask the question. In your hand, a paper flower was taking form, a mere distraction to help you keep your composure; at this point, the stack of books that had once seemed endless was dwindling - you were running out of pages. “I’m not going to flee. I’m not even going to leave your side,” you slowly exhaled and when Simon said nothing, you continued speaking. “… I feel like I’m suffocating in here, and... and I just want to breathe some fresh air.”

That night, your request was denied, leading you to believe asking him to take you outside, even for just five minutes, was a mistake. However, the next morning, you awoke to the sound of the cell door unlocking. He instructed you to stand up and extend your arms. Despite not knowing what was happening, you complied. Simon handcuffed your wrists in front of you. While he was making sure that you couldn’t slip out of the cuffs, he murmured he didn’t want to do this, but he had to, just in case. His caution dictated his actions, yet you could see a glimmer of empathy in his eyes.

“This place is in the middle of nowhere.” He said while escorting you up the stairs, leading both of you out of the dim basement. The ominous tone in his voice conveyed a clear warning, as if he was cautioning you not to act impulsively because he could feel the maelstrom of thoughts swirling in your mind at light speed, with your eyes skittishly scanning the surroundings.

“I won’t run. You have my word,” you promised, and even forced yourself to step closer, diminishing the gap between you two. Your hesitation was palpable, your body wanting to recoil and move away from him, yet you overpowered your instincts and forced yourself to get on your tiptoes. Your lips lightly brushed over his cheek; you could feel his stubble tickling your skin.

You were outside for an hour. Simon forced you to sit down on the freezing ground. He demanded that you cross your legs and place your cuffed hands in your lap. All the while, he loomed over you like an ominous shadow, his vigilant eyes never leaving your frame.

When looking around, you could see nothing except a curtain of thick trees and a dusty road that seemed to lead nowhere. The idea of running seemed absurd, yet you couldn’t help but consider it as your only viable option. You refused to perish in that cell, and you would rather die than let him drag you back into the basement. So, this was your only chance to escape, since you didn’t know when Simon would take you outside next, if at all.

After Simon shifted his attention, turning his head away for just a split second, you seized your chance. You clumsily stumbled to your feet and started running. With every ounce of speed you could muster, the chilling wind sent shivers down your spine as you raced ahead. Your senses were heightened, and your body kept moving in a state of heightened adrenaline. Simon’s voice boomed behind you, shouting at you to stop, but even though your legs hurt and your entire body ached, you refused to let him catch you.

However, Simon was faster. He was tenacious, and after what felt like an eternity, you felt two strong arms wrap around you, and a muscular body collided with yours. You fought back with all your might, kicking your feet around, trying to bite him, and attempting to scream, but his hand clamped over your mouth, silencing your efforts.

He hauled you back towards the shed. His eyes were ablaze with unconcealed wrath, a chilling sight that you glimpsed as you dared to glance over your shoulder. His body was taut with rage. Desperation fuelled your attempts to free yourself, but it wasn’t the fear of confinement or harm that spurred you on; it was because you were running out of air. His muscular arm was tightly coiled around your neck, pinching your throat. In your panicked state, you tried to scream, pleading for him to release you, to let you breathe, but your words fell on deaf ears because although Simon could hear you, his palm was still clamped over your quivering lips, muting your desperate cries.

Simon found himself in a state of mental disarray, unable to organise his thoughts or focus on anything other than his regret for trusting you. He berated himself internally, thinking how foolish he was for not seeing through your facade, for not discerning the fact that you were not ready to face the harsh truths that lay in front of you.

Everything he did was because he desperately wanted to make your life easier, to take away your problems and the pain. Although he was angry at you for your betrayal, for you breaking your promise and running, he still loved you, more than you could even know, which is why he was willing to go to any lengths to ensure your well-being.

This love, and his poisonous obsession with you, consumed him, which is why he decided he was going to keep you confined in the basement, with the hope you would eventually come to see that everything he did, every action he took, was done with you in his mind.

He could feel your resistance wane, but his grip on your body remained unyielding, unbending until he had brought you back into the cell. With a force that he didn’t bother to mask, he compelled you to sit up. But as his arms unwound, your body fell, collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. He knelt beside you, his eyes steadily growing wider as he took in the alarming pallor of your face. Your chest was still; you weren’t breathing.

In a panic, he reached out, his hand trembling as he checked your pulse, his digits moving to your neck in a desperate search for life. Finding none, his fingers curled around your shoulders, gripping you tightly as he began shaking you - a violent, desperate attempt to make you open your eyes.

“Wake up, wake up..!” Words spilt out of him like a desperate prayer. “Stop playing! Stop pretending, Y/N!” His rage had given way to remorse as he refused to acknowledge the stillness of your body, the lifelessness in your eyes.

Simon, in his denial, couldn’t admit to himself what he had done. He refused to admit that he killed you, and wouldn’t even let the thought creep into his mind. But eventually, he moved away from you. His grip on your shirt loosened, allowing the fabric to slip from his fingers. Your body tumbled to the ground once more. Upon standing up, he dared to look at your face. Your eyes were closed, and it looked like you were sleeping; your head had fallen onto a mound of neatly folded paper flowers.

He was at a complete loss for what to do. A sense of emptiness washed over his body, leaving him feeling numb and detached from the world around him. His mind remained devoid of any coherent thoughts, as if he was lost in a dense fog of confusion. But amidst the chaos, there was a quiet voice in his head, a whisper in the deafening silence. It was the blackness that enveloped his body, wrapping around him like a warm, comforting blanket. This voice, as gentle as a lullaby, kept whispering into his ear, echoing the bitter truth that he had been denying - this was always going to end this way.

You were never meant to be his.

By accepting Simon into your life, you unknowingly sealed your fate as another victim of his, unable to withstand the darkness that lurked within him.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 6: Making Connections

Welcome back!

Since my last post, we had a fun and busy weekend going from Pompeii to Sorrento to Capri to Naples and finally back home to Rome. On Friday, we had one of the CEA CAPA organized trips, where we walked around Pompeii, learned a lot about the history, and then we got lunch, and then took the train to Sorrento. We spent Saturday on a boat, which was by far the highlight of my weekend. We traveled with 12 people total (all my roommates and 6 other CEA CAPA students). We rented a private boat, so we had the boat to ourselves for the day. We got to swim at a few different spots and spend a few hours in a town on Capri. There was a heat wave this weekend, so it was extremely hot. I am usually prepared for the heat, but this weekend was another level of hot, sweaty, and dehydrated.

These are all photos I took on our boat tour. Some are from Capri, some are from Sorrento, and some are from somewhere on the ocean!

I know personally, going into this trip, I was worried about making friends and finding my people while I was abroad, so I thought I'd try and answer a few questions about it. I think one very important thing is your roommates. Since you will likely not know many people on the trip, your roommates will typically become your closest friends during the trip. I got lucky and got a group of roommates that were perfect for me because we have a lot of similar priorities abroad, like traveling on the weekends, sightseeing, and having fun, making the most of our time here. We don’t entirely get to choose your roommates, but you do get some say in your groups, which I talked about in a previous post. It’s also important to make friends in classes, which is also where finding roommates who are taking the same classes as you can be helpful. With that said, your class friends will be your best resources when studying. We use a textbook for my class, but other than the notes that I take in class and the textbook, there are no other resources available (at least for my class). We get the professor's email if we need it, but I find that it's easier to ask classmates. There are many ways to make friends in the program, through classes, CEA CAPA-organized events, and roommates. Once you make one friend, it's a lot easier to meet people through other people, too!

The actual "campus" is a lot different than Michigan. First, the program is a lot smaller. I would estimate that in the whole program, there are about 60 students. So, there is only one building where all of the classrooms are. It is right above a cafe where we get a discount. In that building, two floors are for CEA CAPA classrooms, and the rest are for other businesses or offices. The classrooms are fairly small since the class sizes are small. They only fit about 15-20 students each. In the building, there are also rooms to study in, although they are not particularly spacious. I prefer to study in my apartment for convenience and comfort, but it's always good to have that as an option.

This is the building where all the classrooms are, and it blends in with the rest of the city since Rome is so densely packed.

All of the CEA CAPA staff’s offices are located in the CEA CAPA building, which makes getting in contact with them very easy. In addition, we also get all of their emails. These are the people you contact if you have an emergency (that isn’t a 911 type of emergency) or if something breaks in your apartment. The professors don’t have offices there, and they also don’t have office hours, which is a small difference I noticed from American classes.

Overall, there are resources here to help you with your classes, living in Rome, and anything you need help with, and there are people to help you, too! One of the things that I would stress the most is making connections with other students, like your roommates or classmates, and that'll make the biggest difference here. Don’t be afraid to talk to new people in classes, and put yourself out there!

Now I have to go write an essay about Roman Art and Archaeology…thanks for reading!

Caio!

Sarah McCloskey

Biomedical Engineering

Engineering in Rome, Italy

[jincalebbicar]

Week 8: Asking for convenience

As we proceed with the following interviews, the interviewees had more emphasis on what the school would be offering in terms of information for the students. As we proceeded with four 3rd year students from the Department of College Engineering and Architecture. and A couple of second year students who remembers their freshmen days within the campus.

Dence Celiz says university offices rarely update their information online. She often has to visit in person just to ask simple questions like if they're still hiring student assistants, only to be told to "wait for a call" with no clear timeline. "It's so tiring," she says, especially when these updates could easily be posted somewhere everyone can see them. One office that usually takes too long to provide answers would be the faculty office of the CEA building she stated.

Jonray Anoos finds even logging into school websites frustrating. He usually searches Facebook groups hoping someone has already asked his question. "Most of the information you find is outdated anyway," he adds. While he sees the value in having better tools, he admits, "Honestly, I'm tired of having to learn new systems just to get basic information. Do I really want to watch a 17 minute video of having to understand a portal, As an athlete I just want something simple no complicated steps, no extra downloads."

Chriscel Datan struggles most with finding specific rules for her department. "The school websites don't have everything you need, and they take forever to update when things change, like new payment methods, although we usually just stick to Gcash for this" she explains. She ends up asking through multiple channels email, student groups, and even visiting offices in person just to get accurate information.

Mara Saquilayan gets frustrated with last-minute announcements and sudden deadline changes. "I check the school website, ask in student groups, or call the office directly, but there are always delays or wrong information, " she says. "It makes everything so stressful. That payment lady near the gym lobby would often have to let me go through the LRC building back and forth only to find out the office is empty during particular days." She likes the idea of having instant help but hopes for something straightforward "Just give me something quick and simple. I don't want to do extra work just to get information."

Adrian remembers his freshman year as extremely confusing. "Everything was new I didn't know where offices were, how to handle paperwork, or which events were important," he recalls. He thinks having instant guidance would have helped a lot, "but only if it's actually easy to use and doesn't make things more complicated."

Yuri found it difficult to adjust to college life, especially when he didn't know anyone or understand how things worked. "I'm pretty shy about asking questions," he admits. he thinks having quick answers available would be helpful for students like him who hesitates to approach the staff or other students. "But I don't want it to become just another confusing system that we're forced to use but don't actually like. Take it for example the HIMS portal, its already difficult to access the system and get a medical certificate."

James remembers how tough his first year was trying to understand class schedules, campus rules, and locating different offices. "I spent so much time just figuring out the basics," he admits. He thinks having quick access to accurate information would be really helpful for new students" but only if it actually works properly and the information is correct. Otherwise it's just one more thing to deal with.

[jeshuae]

CPE312 Software Design and Engineering

App Presentation + Exam Exemption (Finals)

Week 16

December 17-18, 2024

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

Today was the big day—our final presentation for EduConnect TutorHub. Sir Carl told us that if we met 100% of the requirements, we’d get a perfect score, which motivated us to stay up all night finishing both the app and the paperwork. Early this morning, we gathered at the 4th floor of the CEA building to revise and finalize everything. When it was our turn, our leader introduced the app and its functionality, while I presented the documentation. After the presentation, Sir Carl pointed out some needed revisions, so we planned to fix everything and return the next day.

Later that night, Sir Carl messaged our group chat and announced that we were exempted from the finals exam as long as we submitted all requirements within the week. We were so happy—thank you, Sir Carl!

The next day, we worked hard to complete everything. Our leader prepared screenshots for white-box and black-box testing, another teammate edited the user manual brochure and tutorial video, and I updated Chapter 4 to show the app’s 100% success rate. In Chapter 5, we concluded that the app is fully functional and ready for deployment, with recommendations for future improvements. We also tested its performance on multiple devices, showing that it worked smoothly without errors.

For the System Usability Scale (SUS), Sir Carl asked us to survey more respondents to ensure accurate results. We immediately conducted surveys with classmates and managed to get a 90+ SUS score, earning an A+ rating with the best imaginable ranking. After all the revisions and the final presentation, Sir Carl gave us a perfect 100%. We were relieved and proud to have completed everything on time and secured exam exemption.

This project had its challenges—stressful moments, arguments, and sleepless nights—but we pulled through as a team. I’m grateful to Sir Carl for his guidance, which helped turn our ideas into reality. This feels like a huge milestone for me as a 3rd-year Computer Engineering student. With that, we, the team of EduConnect TutorHub, are signing off. Good night!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

[enginapping]

𝕰𝖝𝖆𝖒𝖘

【𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨 𝔑𝔦𝔫𝔢】

Date: 10/18/24 Location: Home Mood: ٩(×̯×)۶

The week of exams ends today, only for CEA that is. The other courses still have exams through the next few days so there are some rooms that are unavailable. There was no classes for all my scheduled subjects that day, so time was spent in the comforts of my own home, resting from the exhausting past few exam days.

The following week will be the presentation of multiple PITs, which will means we have to polish multiple papers as well as create PowerPoint presentations. I've connected with the variety of groups I'm a part of and asked for updates.

All in all, it's more of a day of resting and mental preparation for what's to come. The weekends will be busy, and the weekdays will be busier.

──────────────── · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ────────────────

─────────────────────────────────────────

Nightnight! ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

[mydyspraxiablog]

I going do my 50 wishes hope so come true

1. I wish could have hamsters

2 wish could have two Ginginapig

3 Wish could but Annabel and Sydnee in garden Annabel and Sydnee was my pets cats I missing badly.

4 I wish could go Charlie Cat cafe ( Esschell buses are hour bit rubish)

5 Wish sponder another child with Compassionuk

6 wish going on Compassionuk trip to Ethiopia

7 Wish all Gluten free food was same price normal food.

8 Wish have cat

9 wish have dog

10 wish do Christmas art crouse

11 Wish have afternoon tea

12 Wish could learn swimming again

13 I wish could go float Hotel

14. I wish could visitor Corrie

15 I wish all family going my local church( but won't happon)

16 I wish go Disney on Ice again

17 I Wish could Engish and math crouse

18 I wish could join friendship of chalet school club

19 I wish could have a new Natwest card

20 I wish vistor Buglow in Walves

21 I wish Vistor Ant and Dec Saturday night take it be dream coming true

22 Go on Disney cruise

23 wish go on cruise

24 wish have Sims 3 high school but £30 it too expensive at movent

25 wish going on coach trip

26 Wish going Turkey 🇹🇷

27 wish going Greace

28 wish Dancing class was on at Prue Gym ( missing dancing for two weeks)

29 wish Go Christmas holiday

30 wish mum stop be OCT with clearing and put anything is right ( It trying be mad

31 Wish Lee stop coming ask what cooking 🍳? ( I not going make have quickly put Pork make freeze because only two Pork in microwave meal bad news have shave with mum.

33 Wish could have Adult mobile phone

34 Wish have job brush cats and dogs.

35 Wish could do Animal crouse on Farm

36 Wish Vistor Oak farm

37 wish vister Chester for Christmas Market

38 wish could adopt child

39 wish vistor Escleshell Zoo

40 Wish Iceland and farmfood do Gluten free food.

41 Wish could go to Guesney again.

42 wish could have Blue badge

43 wish read story to children

44 wish help the shelter cat

45 wish help shelter dog

46 wish could make church grow

47 wish could do challenging for compassuk for Sponer child

48 Wish CEA cimma card coming through post.

49 wish could have meal out

50 wish to have cakes

[ozwriterchick]

No more...

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes; Fem Reader; Sam Wilson

Content warning: miscommunication; leaving a relationship; talk of pregnancy; implied sexy time; If I've missed anything let me know

Summary: Bucky promises no more missions

WC: approx 2890 words

Dividers/Graphics by @firefly-in-darkness

Masterlist

Pulling up outside the home you share with your boyfriend, you are immensely glad that it’s Friday afternoon and that you have a whole weekend to share with him.

It’s been a week from hell at work - as a teacher, you don’t get many of those but this week there’s been multiple teachers out with the flu and a severe lack of emergency teachers, so each of you have had to combine your classes with at least 1 other, making for the normal student-teacher ratios to be blown out so bad that you think tonight you’ll need a bottle of wine, instead of just a glass, to relax.

You unlock the front door, put your coat in the coat closet, toe-off your shoes and put your bag on the hall table.  You’ll go through the papers you have to grade after dinner.

“Bucky, I’m home.  Where are you?”

You hear his voice from upstairs “Here my love.”

Trudging up the stairs you poke your head into your bedroom but he’s not there “Buck?”

“Mouse, I’m in here.” You giggle at the nickname he gave you early in your friendship, before you got together.  He said it was because you squeaked like a little mouse when you got excited.  Then you got together and he heard what you sounded like when you got really excited and you were nothing like a mouse.  But the name stuck, and it made you happy each time you heard it.

Walking into the spare room, you see his tactical gear laid out on the bed and his duffle bag half packed.

“Mission?” You asked angrily.

“Yeah, Sam called me earlier and said they needed my expertise on this one.”

“James, we agreed that you were done with missions.”

“I know, but this is a serious one Mouse.  We might be able to finally take down Hydra for good.  I can’t sit out on this one, not after everything they did to me for all of those years.”

He walked over and cupped your face with his large hands.  “I promise, this will be the last one.”

“I don’t like this but I kind of understand.  But this has to be the last one, James.  I’m not kidding, I want to start a family with you and I can’t do that if I’m constantly worried that you’re not coming home.”

‘Of course my love, the last one.  No more after this.”

With a heavy sigh you ask “So, when do you leave?”

“First thing in the morning.  Sam’s picking me up at 0600.”

“Then come to bed with me, you can finish that packing later, or in the morning.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

The next morning

You open your eyes and it’s still dark.  The bed beside you is empty but not yet fully cold, so you know your soldier only got out of the bed in the last 10-15 minutes.  He would not dare have left without saying goodbye, so you glance at the clock on the bedside table to reveal it’s approx 5.45am.

Listening carefully you can hear him moving about downstairs so you figure he did a quick finish of packing and moved downstairs so as not to disturb you.

His heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and you knew he was fully dressed in his tactical gear, including the big boots he wore.

He poked his head in the door and you smiled “Morning Soldier”

“Ugh” he groaned “Don’t start something I can’t finish.  Sam will be here in around 10 minutes.”

‘I know, I just wanted you to have something to remember to make you hurry home safely.  I promise, when you get home, we will finish that.  For now, come lay down so we can snuggle for a bit.”

He jumped on the bed beside you and took you in his arms, pressing loving kisses all over your face and neck.

Your arms wound around his neck and you squeezed as tight as you could, knowing that however long this mission took, these hugs and kisses would have to tide you over until his return.  The churning in your stomach at the danger he was about to face was ever present and would not cease until he was safe in your arms once again.

In what seemed like mere seconds, you heard the quiet rap on the door that signalled Sam was here.

“Don’t go” you whispered to him “Please?”

“I have to love, but I’ll be home before you know it.”

He planted one last kiss on your forehead and stood up.  You clung to him like a koala and he just chuckled.   “Mouse, if you don’t let go, I’ll open the door and Sam will see all of this.”

You giggled and reluctantly let go, pulling your robe on and tying it tightly over your naked body.

Grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, you walked down the stairs with him and stood silently as he opened the front door and greeted Sam.

“Hey lovebirds” Sam said. “Sorry to steal this one away from you, I’ll have him back safe and sound as soon as possible. Let’s go Buck, wheels up in 45 mins”. He walked back to his car and got in ready to go.

Bucky leant his forehead against yours, both of you with your eyes closed, soaking in these last moments together for a while. “I’ll let you know what’s happening when I can.  I’m going to miss you my little Mouse.  I love you, stay safe for me and when I get home, we’ll get started on that family of ours.”

Tears in your eyes, all you could do was nod and press your lips against his.  You feel like you’re being overly dramatic like he’s never coming home but there’s always that possibility so you have to prepare just in case.

“So long my love, not goodbye.  Until we see each other again” you pushed him out the door towards Sam and whatever might happen in the next days or weeks.”

Over the next 10 days, you heard from Bucky twice.  They had to go dark most of the time due to it being Hydra and how easy they always seemed to be able to ascertain what the Avengers were doing, where they were and their plans.

Tony was sure they had a mole on the inside, so this mission was down to only the people who needed to know so in reality it was just Tony, Steve, Sam that knew where they were going and what the plan was beforehand.  Once Sam and Bucky were alone on the Jet, Sam was able to let Bucky know the details.

The last time you heard from him was 4 days ago.  They’d located the Hydra base and were planning their attack.  That was all he could tell you, apart from the fact that he had some cuts and bruises but was otherwise healthy.  He also told you that he’d wouldn’t be able to call you again until they were on the way home, so you weren’t sure exactly when that would be.

The Thursday following, about 12 days after they left, you got a text message from Sam. 

Your mind was racing about what injuries he had, however you managed to calm yourself down, take the rest of your classes that day and head straight to the compound from there.  You’d let your boss know and that you wouldn’t be in tomorrow so they could organise a substitute teacher for your classes.

At the compound

Sam was out the front waiting for you when you arrived.  You stopped the car and just left it where it was and ran up to him.  He gave you a big hug and looked you in the eyes.

“It’s not serious, ok.  I know you didn’t believe me earlier, but he is ok.”

“Then why is he in the medical wing Sam?”

“Well, he broke his arm, so they had to set it to make sure it healed properly.  The last X-ray they did showed it’s almost all healed.”

“Why couldn’t you just say that Sam, I’ve been stressing all afternoon.”

“Well I told you he was ok but yeah, next time I’ll..”

“There isn’t going to be a next time Sam.”

Sam gave you a quizzical look and said “Ok, go see your boy, you know where to go yeah?” You nodded. “Give me your keys, I’ll park your car for you and see you up there.”

You threw your keys at Sam as you ran towards the elevators, heading to the 10th floor, which was the medical wing.

Bruce saw you as you burst through the doors and he pointed towards the room that Buck was in, with a grin on his face.

Pushing the door open, you hesitated, he appeared to be asleep, with a cast on his right arm.  You just stood and watched him for what seemed like forever, then you heard him say “Don't just stand there mouse, come give me some sugar.”

Laughing, you skipped over to the bed and climbed up to lay next to him. He turned his head and kissed you before opening his eyes and looking into yours.

“No more Mouse..”

Time jump.. 3 months later..

The last 3 months since Bucky came home from his last mission had been bliss.  Work had evened out, with the warmer weather there weren’t as many absences from illness and the end of the school year was approaching.

Bucky’s arm had healed nicely and in record time.  You moved into a larger place and had plans for going away on a vacation for about 3 weeks during the summer holidays to Florida.  The plan was to relax, spend time together, hit the beach and spend a few days at Disney because neither of you had been there before.  You’d also been working hard at starting the family that you both wanted so badly.

A few days after school finished for the year, you had been out doing some grocery shopping, and buying some new things for the Florida vacation.  On your return home, you heard Bucky speaking in a low voice in the sun room out the back of the house.

You put the groceries on the kitchen bench and headed out to see who he was talking to.  He was on the phone and as soon as he saw you, he stopped talking and you heard him say “Mouse is home, I’ll call you back later”

“Hey babe, who was that?”

“I missed you mouse, that was Sam.”

“Oh, what did he want?”

“He wanted to talk to me about a mission.”

“No.”

“Now just listen before you say a flat out no, ok?”

“No Bucky, we agreed, even when you got back from the last mission the first thing you said was no more. “

“I know, but you know how we didn’t eradicate Hydra on the last mission like we’d hoped, this time we can do it.  The plan is solid, they have no idea we’re coming.”

“Wait, you’ve already said yes to this haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I thought you’d be ok with it.  We can rid the world of Hydra, mouse.  I have to go.”

“That’s what you said last time Buck and look where we are now?  I can’t keep doing this.  I love you, but I’ve already told you, I can’t have a family with someone who keeps   putting himself and our family in danger like this.  I know I knew this about you when we got together but I thought we were on the same page about this?”

“We are but..”

“See, Buck, if we are on the same page, there’s no but to it.  Look, I can’t force you not to go, you know how I feel about this, you need to make your decision about what you want, what is most important to you”

With that, you turned away from him and walked slowly away, up the stairs, shutting the bedroom door behind you.

Later that night

Bucky opened the bedroom door, having given you plenty of space.  He lay down on the bed beside you, pulling you tight to his chest and then pushing his finger under your chin to lift your face to his.

“Mouse, don’t cry.  I love you, you know I do, but I feel like I have to do this.  I have to help rid the world of this menace that is Hydra.”

“I know Buck, but you agreed to this without even talking to me, without even considering my thoughts or feelings.  No thought to the fact that we’d agreed, or I thought we had, that you were not doing this any more.”

“I did consider all of that, don’t you want our kids to come into a world without Hydra?”

“But where does it end Buck.  When is it enough.  What if you don’t get rid of Hydra, like last time?  What if another organisation pops up that’s just as bad or worse?  It’s hard enough for me to say goodbye to you each time you go on a mission and have a lump in my throat until I hear from you or you’re home safe.  I am not putting my child through that feeling too.”

“I know Mouse, but I feel like it’s my responsibility.”

“So you’ve made up your mind?”

“Yeah I have.  Don’t be sad Mouse.  It will be ok.”

“When do you leave then?”

“Tomorrow night but I have to go to the compound for briefings about lunchtime tomorrow.”

Bucky stroked your head and back as you burst into tears and sobbed until you felt like you had no tears left.

He’d made up his mind to go and so had you.  Maybe he knew deep down but you were determined that these hours would not be sad, that you’d both have these memories to survive on.

Reaching your face up to his you kissed him.  The two of you spent the whole night making love and holding each other, until you had no more energy left and you fell asleep in his arms.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed.  You went downstairs and found him in the sunroom with a cup of coffee.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?”

“Yeah, I’m heading out once I’ve finished this cup of coffee.  Sit with me please?”

Sitting next to him on the couch, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.  You were sure he could feel the tension in your body, but he didn’t say anything.

Walking him to the door when Sam pulled into the driveway, he leant in to give you a hug and one final kiss before he left.  “So long my love, I love you so much, I’ll see you when I get home.”

Tears in your eyes you kissed him back, saying “Goodbye Buck, come home safe”

He walked towards Sam’s car and yo shut the door before he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks, and you headed to the bedroom.

Over the next 2 weeks Bucky tried to contact you multiple times.  He wasn’t stressed when his first messages went unanswered, but the longer it went in time, the more concerned he became.

The mission was a success in that they finally got rid of Hydra once and for all.  He was excited that he didn’t have to worry about them any more, but his stomach was churning on his way home because he still had not heard from you.

Opening the front door, the house felt eerily still and quiet.  He yelled for you and ran around the house searching but couldn’t find you.

His last stop was the sunroom at the back.  The room you had shared a coffee with him in, the morning he left for this mission.

You weren’t there, but he noticed an envelope on the coffee table, with his name in your writing.  He felt his stomach lurch, hoping you had just left him a note saying that you were at the shops and would be back soon, but deep down he knew what the letter would say.

He pulled the letter out, not noticing another piece of paper float out to the floor when he opened it.

James, By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be far away.  This was not an easy decision for me to make, particularly now, but it was a necessary one.

That last night, I wanted to ask you if there was anything I could say that would change your mind?  It’s because I had something to tell you but I wanted you to stay because you wanted to, because you chose us and our future life and family.

Please don’t try and find me, live your life your way, I don’t want to hold you back from anything you want to do.  I hope you find what you are looking for.

I love you more than life itself and I always will.  Love, Mouse

Bucky hung his head, tears falling to the floor.  It was at that point that he noticed the additional piece of paper that had fallen out of the letter.  He picked it up, turned it over and the tears flowed even harder.

Taglist:@cjand10@angstysebfan @psychictazzy76@lovely-geek @samanthaneedsanap @kentokaze @iheartsebastianstanstuff @yourmumsluke @void-imaginations

[a-shy-mimiktwo]

You're sure colored differently for an Eevee, you know.

Reminds me of a certain Pokémon...

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

“Don’t know what pokemon I could look like. I’ll admit, I’m a unique eevee. But I’m still an eevee!”

[rockinhamburger]

Get The Led Out

A bit of silliness that’s too short to go up on ao3. Writing has not been easy lately, but here’s hopefully a little press room fun. Reports suggest someone named Led Tasso paid Richmond a visit.

---

Trent was just settling into his chair for the press conference when Lloyd asked Marcus, “So, you hear about Led Tasso?”

Despite himself, Trent chuckled. Led Tasso. Lloyd and Marcus whipped around with their brows furrowed. Possibly they’d never heard Trent laugh before.

“You know,” Trent repeated. “Led Tasso? That’s a rather good spoonerism.” The furrow in both men’s brows deepened, and Trent explained, “When you mix up the letters of two words in a phrase. The term is named after William Archibald Spooner, an ordained minister from the mid-1800s. Reportedly, instead of saying ‘conquering kings’, he accidentally said, ‘Kingering Kongs.’”

Off their continued bafflement, Trent busied himself with his glasses. This was precisely why he kept to himself in this bloody room, to keep up at least some appearance that he wasn’t entirely the closet nerd they all assumed him to be.

Lloyd leaned his arm on the back of his chair in apparent interest. “Oh, is that what it’s called? My daughter still teases me for saying Beeping Sleauty one time.”

Marcus laughed, turning in his chair to join the conversation. “Accidentally said ‘kenalty pick’ the other week.”

Trent offered up, “I once asked my gran if we could have trumpets with our cea.”

Lloyd and Marcus grinned back at him. Then Lloyd squinted into the distance for a moment before saying, “Oh, but that’s not what I did just then. Led Tasso? Apparently, he’s Lasso’s mean alter-ego.”

Trent laughed in disbelief, but Marcus leaned in. "It’s true. Mary said she heard Hughes and McAdoo talking about it in the car park. Word is he’s called Led Tasso, and he runs a harsh training session.”

Trent arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Harsh? From the man who says ‘heck’ or ‘gosh’ every time he opens his mouth?”

They both laughed. “Yeah, it is hard to believe,” Marcus agreed.

Lloyd’s eyes shone with mischief. “Someone should ask him about it.”

“I’ll do it for five quid,” Marcus said just as the main under discussion entered the room. They faced the front again, but a few moments later Trent spotted Lloyd passing Marcus a fiver. Abruptly, Trent found himself at odds with his strict professionalism, anticipating Marcus’ turn as Ted called on a couple of people before settling on him.

Ted lit up with his usual smile of greeting. “Hey, Marcus! Lay it on me, buddy.”

“Hi, Ted. I was wondering if there might be any truth to the rumours about a certain Led Tasso heading up training?”

The room broke out in chuckles. Utterly failing to curb his smile, Trent watched for Ted’s reaction, which was to give his usual affable grin before wiggling his eyebrows at Marcus. “Well, now, I don’t know where you heard about this fella, but if he did make an appearance, it was a quick one and we’re all the better for it.”

Ted winked and turned his attention to Lloyd next. “How ‘bout you, Lloyd? What d’you got for me today?”

Lloyd picked up where Marcus had left off. “Rumour has it this Led Tasso runs a tight ship,” he said with amusement. “Will we get an appearance from him one day?”

Laughter rippled through the room. Trent ducked his head and bit his lip to hide his stubbournly persistent smile. He was supposed to be the serious reporter in here; he had a reputation to uphold.

Ted smiled pleasantly once more. “All these rumours - gosh, I feel like I’m Fleetwood Mac’s best album.” Trent nodded to himself; Ted was correct on that one. Ted’s smile became more of a smirk. “Believe me, y’all don’t wanna meet that guy. It’s best for everyone that his appearances are as rare as a blue moon.”

Ted clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s see. Hey, Trent, what burning question do you have for me today?”

Trent stood. “Trent Crimm, The Independent.”Keeping his tone serious, Trent said, “I admit I’m rather curious about this Led Tasso. Why was it necessary for him to pay the team a visit?”

Ted laughed, and it caught on like a house on fire. Soon enough, the entire press room was at it. Trent was powerless against a chuckle of his own. He was behaving in a most unprofessional manner, but… oh, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Well, Trent,” Ted chirped, smiling wide. “Sometimes you gotta get creative to get the team on one track, you feel me?” Ted gave the room a sly look. “Just how many of you got questions about the task master that is Led Tasso?”

Several more hands went up, and it took several minutes for the whole lot of them to settle down and get back to business.

Not remotely for the first time, Trent could not help contrasting the levity in the room with the tension that had filled it when Cartrick was at the helm. A year ago, Trent would have been horrified to see such a change, and now... Well, maybe he was growing soft in his distinguished age.

[temporoom]

After my post about the french version of VnC, a few people asked me where to find it. Well I actually watch VnC legally on the official streaming platform Wakanim (I pay), and so you can find it legally here :

https://www.wakanim.tv/fr/v2/catalogue/episode/32418/les-memoires-de-vanitas-saison-1-vf-episode-1

My website isn’t working, so I am not sure if the episode is free to watch for everyone, but I think you can watch each episodes for free one week after its release (so episode 1 and 2 for now). Otherwise, you can have a taste of it, there is the official trailer on youtube here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRF75AM-ceA

And I can, maybe (I say maybe) make some clips of it (I think my streaming software can do that). So if requested, I can probably clip some scenes and put them here on tumblr with transcription and translation. (I can only post them on tumblr because I already got in trouble for posting the french dub of another anime on youtube... and I’m attached to my youtube channel).

In any cases, if you do watch some of it, don’t hesitate to tell me what your opinion of it was! I’m always curious to see what other people think of dubs!

[umichenginabroad]

#1: Apartment Life

Hello everyone!

Settling into Madrid has been surreal. A part of me feels like I’ve been here forever, and another can’t believe it’s been nearly two weeks! What I love about being in a new place is that everything I do is finding something new. My friends and I have discovered restaurants, parks, shops, and so much more in our time here, but this week I’d like to go over one of my first destinations in the city – my apartment.

Housing on IPE programs can vary, even on the same program. Here in Madrid, there are three big housing options for students to choose from: apartment, residencia, or homestay. The former is definitely the most popular; I’ve only met a couple students in the residencia or in homestays.

I chose to live in the apartments for two main reasons: First, because it’s the cheapest one that’s already included in the program cost, and secondly because I wanted a taste of independent living in the city.​​ The residencias are dorm-style and, from what I’ve heard from my classmates, generally have two to a room with shared bathrooms and an included meal plan. That way, you don’t really have to worry about cooking for yourself.

Another way to get food provided is the homestays where you live with a local madrileño family or individual. You have to obey house rules (some of my classmates have a specific dinner time or shower time limits) but you do get a home cooked meal on your plate every night. And having been in the apartments for some time, I’ve come to realize that making food for yourself isn’t as easy as it looks – let’s just say I’ve had pasta every night I’ve stayed in for the past week and a half.

But never fear – apartments are great! You get to experience everyday life in the city and get to know your own neighborhood really well. The apartments are individual units scattered around Madrid, so you really get immersed into the city. Depending on your location, you may have to take the metro or walk more than others, but the transportation here is amazing (more to come in a later post).

In my unit there are seven bedrooms, three bathrooms (one is connected to a bedroom), a kitchen, and a dining room. Though I had asked for a double room (the cheapest option), everyone in my apartment got a single room. That was a great surprise at no added cost (make sure you check that box in your housing application to avoid being charged!) and it’s been extremely comfortable so far. Each bedroom comes with a bed with sheets and a comforter (mine is a full, but they vary in size), a desk, a wardrobe with hangers, a chair, and towels. My room also has three (!!!) windows that open onto small balconies as well as a drying rack. Speaking of drying clothes, my apartment did come with a dryer – another surprise – but it doesn’t work too well, so my roommates and I have resorted to the old-fashioned way.

Sharing the communal spaces in the apartment is also quite comfortable. Our kitchen is large and comes furnished with appliances (stove, oven, fridge, microwave, dishwasher) as well as dishes and silverware. Having all this in an apartment really surprised me – I was told it would all be provided to us, but didn’t quite realize how easy it would be to move right in. Fair warning, though – all apartments are different and have their own issues to work through. For example, we had no hot water for the first couple days and had to reach out to the housing department to get maintenance help. CEA CAPA does have a lot of direct support to the students, though, so I’ve been generally pleased.

My bed and desk

Though I spend most of my days out and about in the city, the homebody in me has grown quite attached to my apartment. Having a comfortable place to call your own in a new and foreign place is the best way to unwind, rest up, and get ready to keep exploring.

See you soon!

Chao,

Aylin

Aylin Ozdemir

Computer Science

Engineering in Madrid, Spain

[woozymitts]

Some updates:

Yesterday was my birthday! I am 24! 24 is my favorite number. Neat.

We were talking to the lady that has Mira and she seemed very gung-ho about rehoming her, and told us to ask Maxwell’s breeder for a price. And Maxwell’s breeder told my mom to call her and she said they’ve decided to keep her and breed her because she’s gone through all the relevant health testing. So that was super cool and fun birthday news.

But I guess they’re waffling about whether to keep Harley for showing or rehome him. He won’t be used for breeding because he’s a carrier of CEA. Maxwell’s breeder is going to talk to his owner next week I guess.

Maxwell broke a jug of milk this morning! He grabbed the handle to take it off the counter and steal it but it was heavy enough that he dropped it and then it broke open. So now we have random containers of milk in the fridge.

I’m sorry I’m not being active or posting photos! My ADHD/Autism brain has decided that it’s time to hyperfocus on Minecraft.

[antoine-roquentin]

This is very personal post. It is my story of the retaliation I suffered immediately after my “economics is a disgrace” blog post went viral. The retaliation came from Heather Boushey–a recent Biden appointee to the Council of Economic Adviser and the President and CEO of Equitable Growth where I then worked. This is not the story I wanted to be telling (or living). Writing this post is painful. I am sorry....

On July 30 the day after my “economics is a disgrace” post went viral my boss, Amanda Fischer, who reports to Heather (and the Vice-President, Casey Schoeneberger) and is also on Biden’s transition team, told me that my post had “put Heather in a difficult position and put the reputation of Equitable Growth at risk.” What? My heartfelt personal blog post calling out the toxic, exclusive environment in economics hurt Equitable Growth’s reputation? How was that a risk to a person and an organization promoting equality in the economy? I told them it was never my intent to harm Heather or Equitable Growth, and I would begin to look for a new job.

The next day I was told to submit my formal resignation and leave by August 31. I was in shock. My blog post was a plea for more a diverse and inclusive economics. I called out elite men in the profession whose words and actions for decades had propagated sexism, racism, elitism, politics. Exclusion that Heather herself has lived during her career. I called our men like Larry Summers who advised Biden, Obama, and Clinton. Heather chose Larry over me. I expected retaliation. I did not expect it from Heather.

I spent an excruciating week pleading with Amanda and HR to rewind our conversations but to no avail.  Finally, on August 6, I asked Heather to meet with me. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. Nope. She has never replied to me. The retaliation over one blog post and my awful treatment made no sense. I spoke at Equitable Growth’s launch event in 2013; served on its academic advisory board after that; and joined the the organization last November as its first Director of Macroeconomic Policy....

I am not the first person Heather needs to apologize to. After the retaliation against me began, I learned that Heather’s abusive behavior was a pattern. And was an open secret among elite circles of DC economic policy.  

While Equitable Growth was still a part of the Center for American Progress, Neera Tanden, President Biden’s choice for the Director of the Office of Management and Budget, received a memo in 2015 detailing how five employees left due to Heather’s abuse.  The memo states that these employees left because she has “difficulty managing staff, appropriately communicating her expectations, and is unprofessional in her conduct.” Five years later that sounds painfully familiar to me.

More people knew then too. John Podesta, a leader in the Democratic establishment and founder of Equitable Growth received that memo too. When  Mr. Podesta’s email was hacked in 2016 that memo about Heather went on Wikileaks. Ms. Tanden, Mr. Podesta,  and others who have since learned about Heather’s toxic behavior toward her staff protected her and not her victims.  I was a victim, as are others. She creates a toxic work environment, and she is not held accountable. She has not changed.

Heather is now on track to be a member at the Council for Economic Advisers. A group that reports directly to the President and evaluates economic policy proposals from the Administration. She bring expertise and many skills in economic policy to that important position. Uplifting and supporting her team is not one of them. Working at Obama’s CEA as a senior economist (reporting directly to the a member) was the highlight of my career in economic policy. Staff at CEA need members who will support them.

the sum total of the words towards larry summers in the original blog post:

Elites tolerate the bad behavior of other elites. The reverence toward Larry Summer exemplifies my claim. During his entire career, Summers has attacked others who disagree with him. He is Clark Medalist, a former Secretary of the Treasury, and an adviser to Barack Obama. Summers has done more than any current economist to devalue the contributions of women economists during my career. As the President of Harvard, in 2005, Summers  delivered remarks at NBER Conference on Diversifying the Science & Engineering Workforce. One hypothesis he offered for fewer women faculty in the sciences was “different availability of aptitude at the high end.” One could counter “Larry was only “asking questions” about women’s IQ. Anyone who does research knows that the questions we ask reflect our priors and our interests. I was a PhD student at the time of his speech. I did not attend the lecture, but I heard about  it. I cannot imagine how the women in the room felt. I know I felt awful when I read it. It is badly argued and tone deaf at the struggles that women face in economics. Summers continues to demean women economics. I had an early career woman come to me recently with an inexcusable interaction with him. Larry, it is not women’s IQ, it’s yours that is the problem. She questioned whether economics was for her. I told her she is an awesome economist. It is true. Why am I picking up the pieces of your bad behavior? Harvard economics what is wrong with you all?

“most diverse cabinet” in which every single person is a horrendously cruel individual, serving only quid pro quo above all

[thefudge]

Do you have any Romanian (language or just content-wise) media recs? Particularly novels and poetry but really any must-sees/must-reads are welcome!

uuuu! 

my brain is too fried right now to do any kind of exhaustive list so i’m gonna rec a few things that i know you could get your hands on/available in translation:

for two thousand years, by mihail sebastian - really heartbreaking yet also lucid, adventurous and darkly humorous memoir of a Jewish writer in his youth at the height of nazism in romania (there’s even a Penguin classic of it)

diary of a short-sighted adolescent by mircea eliade - a funny and bittersweet bildungsroman about a bookish teenager who wants to read everything now and be the cleverest person alive while also struggling with being super lazy and unmotivated because he’s young and restless, it’s very #relatable. but it’s also fascinating to read this in opposition with “for two thousand years” because eliade entertained legionnaire nazi sympathies at one point. (also, you should check out his novellas too, especially the fantastic ones)

anything you can find in translation by gabriela adamesteanu - just lovely, delicate prose about growing up, being an adult, inhabiting your body and your feelings in an oppressive world 

the hatchet by mihail sadoveanu (apparently, there is a translation) - a lot of people give this novel flak, mostly because we had to read it in high school, but it’s a great and deceptively simple little novel that says a lot more about people than it cares to admit. the action takes you through several villages in the East-Carpathians, where a peasant woman goes in search of her missing husband. it’s a fascinating mixture of crime and folklore and mythology. 

any novella by costache negruzzi, but especially “alexandru lapusneanu”, another classic we had to read in school and which gets a lot of flak. it’s so bonkers and #quality-trash. let’s just say there’s a scene where the power-hungry voievod/prince lapusneanu enacts a red-wedding situation and builds a pyramid of freshly severed heads to impress his lady wife *swoon* 

the forest of the hanged by liviu rebreanu - i know people argue this isn’t his best novel, but it’s got the most heart. it’s the story of a soldier/philosopher in WW1 who falls in love with people again. that’s it. he falls in love with people, and the war and everything in between doesn’t matter anymore. or it matters only as it pertains to people, and people alone. 

gallants of the old court by mateiu caragiale - a bizarre gem of early 20th century Romanian nightlife, a wonderful, orgiastic fugue, feverish and infuriating. it’s mostly about rich men and social-climbers getting into existential trouble, but also into real trouble. normally, because the action takes place right before WW1, this would signify the end of an era. but we don’t really have a beginning or end. we are part-balkan, part-french imitators, part-whatever-sticks. nothing moves us, and everything does. and that’s why it’s a sort of love/hate letter to romanians 

in terms of poetry, some personal faves:  nichita stanescu, ana blandiana, monica pillat, marin sorescu,  a.e. baconsky, lucian blaga, emil brumaru, nora iuga, marta petreu, nina cassian. and yes, mihai eminescu, our national poet, though i’m often in two minds about him.  

poetry in translation is really hit and miss because of the “untranslatable”, so here’s two lines from a poem by nina cassian, because i want to show you what i mean:

            De când m-ai părăsit mă fac tot mai frumoasă             ca hoitul luminând în întuneric. 

this roughly and poetically translates to:

          Since you left me I’ve grown more beautiful

           like the corpse lighting the dark 

and this is sort of lovely on its own, but you’d need to know and hear and taste the word “hoit” in romanian to really feel the abjectness, because “hoit” is a smelly, ugly yet also alluring, already decomposing version of “cadavru” aka cadaver/corpse. also “ mă fac tot mai frumoasă” cannot be accurately summed up in “i’ve grown more beautiful”. a literal translation would be “I make myself more beautiful”. in romanian, this is obviously idiomatic and not literal. and yet, these strange self-reflexive valences make these lines strong and eerie, as if the speaker were authoring her beauty, shaping it out of clay and darkness and “hoit”,  like a butterfly cracking the corpse’s shell to get out, but also retaining some of its mesmerizing stench. why did i pause to do a close-reading of romanian poetry??? anyway, you catch my drift

in terms of movies, a recent one i really loved was sierranevada by cristi puiu, which is a neurotic family drama that drains you but also lifts you up 

and yeah, the hype is real, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days by cristi mungiu really is that good (about two young women trying to get an illegal abortion in communist romania. it won the palme d’or for very legit reasons. it breaks you in small ways. the very last shot of the film you’ll carry with you forever). i also liked graduation by cristi mungiu, where a young overachieving girl is about to graduate high school and go on to study abroad, until a terrible event unmoors both her and her family. the movie turns almost hallucinatory at one point, filled with ambiguity and a kind of sleep-walking quality 

tales from the golden age by cristi mungiu (him again!) is also fantastic for anyone who wants to get a taste of communist romania and the sad-funny absurdities of everyday life. this movie is split in 2 parts and the format is that of an anthology, almost like watching several short films at once. and there is one film in the anthology that always turns me inside out, and it’s really silly, it’s this bonnie and clyde type story about this girl and boy who meet at a party and devise an ingenious get-rich scam and just run around a few neighborhoods trying to put it into practice and it’s...the sweetest, most incomplete thing. there is such a strange, lovely connection there that never gets realized, and there is a MOMENT between them where he helps her step down from this ledge and he holds her briefly to him and i remember being in the cinema and thinking THIS, this is THE MOMENT where i felt these people were real. it was such an honest, lovely moment. like the equivalent of this song. ANYWAY, why am i rambling so much??? this ask was supposed to be SHORT. 

aferim! by radu jude is also a really neat movie and provides a look into the historical romanian/rroma relationship and why it’s so messed up, yet also so organic

the death of mr. lazarescu by cristi puiu is also a great little film about a man who gets sick and goes to the hospital. and...dies, as you can tell from the title. on the surface, he dies because of institutional ineptness and a broken healthcare system. at a deeper level, he dies because we no longer know how to help people. various hospital staff in the film do try to help him and fail for various stupid or quietly heartbreaking reasons. it’s a movie about being physically unable to care. there’s indifference, sure, but also this great exhaustion of the human spirit. but the movie is also darkly funny. might not be a great pandemic watch, but then again it might be exactly what you need 

there are soooo many other classics in terms of books (morometii by marin preda, for instance, about a patriarch in a small village in the South who slowly realizes the world he used to live in doesn’t have room for him anymore, and maybe it never had) but i’m gonna end on a quote from ion creanga, one of the most cryptic classics of romanian lit:

“Şi eu eram vesel ca vremea cea mai bună şi şturlubatic şi copilăros ca vântul în tulburea sa”

my translation: “and I was cheerful like the best weather and frolicsome and childish like the wind in its cloudiness” 

and again, the words in romanian and their particular sound and bite (”şturlubatic”, “tulburea”) immediately take me elsewhere. creanga writes about childhood, but it’s never really childhood. he writes as an adult who, in my opinion, was never really a child, but a weird, small god of the land. i mean the word “tulburea” can mean both “turmoil” and “muddiness”. the wind can be anguished, but also just a little cloudy, just a little hazy, shrinking its agony, howling it in the child. it’s eerie and gorgeous. so, that’s what he does: creanga writes about children as if they were wind-like spirits. he writes stories about devils and the peasants who trick them and school books filled with spit and flies, and warm eggs stolen from nests and fairy-tales of a world that is buried somewhere inside us, but not too deep, things hidden under our clothes or nails or even in our hair. and it’s all so physical and convoluted, just like his prose. and i don’t think anyone will ever make sense of him and that’s what makes him so discombobulatingly great.

anyway, this was supposed to be...like, really short! and not gassy! i’m sorry. i love waxing about all this gay stuff. i’m so gay about it. 

realistically tho, the nearest thing you’ll find in your local bookshop is probably books by famous ‘theater of the absurd’ playwright, eugen ionesco, or novels in translation by contemporary author mircea cartarescu. both are pretty good, so go for it! (if you want to start small, i’d recommend REM by mircea cartarescu, because it’s so trippy and meta and captures that summer holiday eeriness so well. it goes well with this romanian song sung in english)

okay byeeeee