#I have a bunch of math and computer science homework to get done but like

[youling-the-ghost]

the urge to fuck around with the AO3 API is very strong right now

[notkrispy]

AITA: long post about what i’ve been up to in the past month

AITA: I’ve been prepping for the ACT test (for non-Americans, that’s a test that basically tests you on your basic foundational skills you’ve learned in your English, Math, and Science classes from 11-16 years of age, among other things) and my math in the ACT is particularly bad because I hate math and some math concepts are just not clicking for me, I don’t understand them, or I’ve been taught to do certain problems one way but never learned other ways to do the same problem, and as a result, my basic math skills are shaky and I’m not doing as well as I should be or want to.

My dad’s taken it up on himself to tutor me and go over the math section of the ACT practice tests I’ve been taking since he’s been taking math classes for all his life pretty much and he’s a computer engineer. It’s really bummed me out since my dad’s methods of teaching can be a little...unsteady, for lack of better word. I don’t agree with his methods of teaching, and I’m pretty sure the rest of my family don’t either, but we can’t say anything because he has a temper and when he gets mad, he gets mad. Sometimes he doesn’t listen to reason or thinks that an explanation I’ve made—that isn’t an excuse and is a perfectly valid reason for not doing so well—is me giving myself an excuse and me not being hard enough on myself to get a better score on the math section of the ACT. I should also add that every time I’m even around my dad, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells and I always have to watch what I’m saying in case I let slip something that would make him get pissed off.

My dad got pretty explosive a couple weeks ago, and while I think my dad has decent formulas and tricks to solve a math problem, his temper definitely got in the way of teaching. I’m not trying to paint myself in a positive light and my dad in a negative light, but he hit me about 3 times (twice on the arm and once on my temple) and pushed my face into the ACT book (my bottom lip felt a little weird afterwards since my teeth hit it). A week before that, he explicitly stated that I was just stupid (the practice test I had done that week had a bunch of stupid mistakes in it that I thought could have been improved on if I had either read the question better or took my time instead of trying to finish a test in a subject that I’m not good at).

Furthermore, literally an hour after that, he took my siblings and I out on a walk and asked me, “Are you mad at me?” I justified my answer by saying yes, and then didn’t elaborate since I started crying and didn’t want to cry in the park. He apologized (which, in my opinion, was made null considering he’s done this to my siblings and I since my mom passed away almost ten years ago), to which I nodded to show that I acknowledged it, but I didn’t accept his apology later when he apologized a second time.

Since then, I’ve still been practicing ACT, especially on the math portions. Every weekend is spent on ACT math, while the rest of the week is spent doing my coursework for school, as well as ACT prep for the other three subjects they test in (English, Reading, Science). I’m so tired of it all, and I just want it to be over. I keep telling myself that it’ll be over soon, since the ACT I’m taking is on February 23, which is a few weeks from now. But just because it’s over soon, doesn’t mean that it’s still really exhausting doing it all.

To avoid getting yelled and/or hit more, I’ve taken to looking through the answers before and after the test just so I can get a decent amount of questions right so that I don’t have to spend 8 hours a day on Saturdays and Sundays getting my mental health and ears damaged because I’m “too stupid” and “a dumbass”. (I’m cheating, basically.) I hate to do it, but it’s made my dad happier, which is good since I won’t get yelled at more or I won’t have to spend so long doing ACT when I haven’t even finished the week’s homework yet.

So my question is, am I the asshole for cheating on the ACT math practice test? I know it’ll come back and bite me in the ass later when I take the actual test, but I’d much rather not get yelled at right now because I’m doing so much and I’m just so tired and I just want to get through the week. I’ve taken to having worse sleeping habits too because I don’t have time during the day to myself, so I take another 2-3 hours at night to myself to just unwind by watching a show or something, so I end up sleeping at like 3 am. Not to mention I wake up at like 7-8 am (4-5 hours later) for class during the week. 

~Bonus~

After I take the ACT, things will let up, but I’m going to have to look for a volunteer position or job and with my mental health at its current state, my dad will start to yell at me again for being “lazy” and “slow” at finding a job. It’s not that I’m slow, I just don’t want to. I’m scared, I don’t know what to do to get a job, and I don’t want to because I know I’m going to fail so badly at it and the job interview isn’t going to go well. Bottom line of this paragraph is, I’m scared to get a job because I can’t communicate well and something is going to go wrong.

[tyunni]

I just realized you saw that spider in the middle of the night, which is so much scarier 😖

And I actually googled Georgia after that time I asked abt ur first language🧐 right in between Russia and turkey and armenia.

Soo… right now it’s like 7pm and I’m doing homework for my summer classes. I have so much math to do. I really don’t want to take calculus but it must be done😔 I just HAD TO major in computer science 🙄🤦🏽‍♀️ I’m really workin my brain here😵‍💫

I’ve been soo busy and like, that’s fine once in a while but.. I only have a week in between my summer and fall classes. It sucks cuz I’ve only had time to do schoolwork or play video games here and there. I want to draw and edit videos, and write and learn other things and I’ve been dying to get into design. All my hobbies…. MY CREATIVE MIND IS SUFFERING

And another thing. I’ve been dirt broke for like a month and I finally got some decent money in my account. *cough cough* financial aid *ahem* So now I can take care of my phone bill and my braces payments… And I’ll still have money left so I wanted to get some other stuff I’ve been wanting. And since my birthday is on Saturday… I thought “ya know what? Why don’t I splurge a lil. It’s not like anyone ever celebrates or buys me gifts😒”

So between a custom game controller (cuz I want a cute controller to play genshin on my iPad); A whole bunch of makeup (cuz I wanna try wearing makeup); and various other self care items…. I have about $500 worth in my carts😅 do I have enough money? Yes. Do I want to spend that much money? Idk😣 I think I’ll have more money by the time September comes but I’m trynna think responsibly😬

Wow that was a lot. Sorry, I have no friends so 🙃

There’s one other thing I was gonna mention but I’ll send it later.🙂

-🦁

WOWOWOWOWAH-

first of all, that's a lot of stuff !! since i haven't graduated & all (i still have a few years to go) that sounds rlly scary what- the amount of pressure, damn, that must be rlly hard. 😔🤝🏻 i got u man if u ever wanna talk abt anything ure dealing with im always here to listen‼️ even if i may not be able to give decent advice & stuff since i dont go through the same things u do !! (yet)

but the whole money thing, very understandable </33 *sigh* its so hard choosing what u want to buy, especially since its your own money :(( BUT HEY‼️‼️ at least you know that u should take ur money seriously, and be responsible with it. not a lot of ppl are aware of that, hence they have a lot of financial problems later on in their lives. ure doing great and im very proud of u :D & its ok !! im ur friend now so u can always talk to me whenever u want to <333

[happiness-in-oblivion]

Senior Szn No. 4: Random Thoughts

Today, I have the sweet pleasure of having to meet not a single obligation. So, here goes! This is literally a post that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, but I was too worried that it was a bit of an existential crisis, if you know what I mean. Two days ago, however, I had a little epiphany and I just need to write. But first, here goes the newest description.

Currently, I should be at my dance institute to workstudy, but I decided I could complete my task at a local coffee shop. So, here I am, twenty minutes later, ready to start writing.

It’s overwhelming how much description this battered-down coffee shop actually has. For one, I managed to snatch my favorite spot, which is a tall black table with a cushioned stool that has uneven legs, so it’s mildly uncomfortable. But it’s definitely not uncomfortable enough to make me move. The table is obviously repurposed because it has eccentric colored nails haphazardly poking through the table. This quirky location happens to be right next to the window. Now, this window happens to hold about five different potted plants, one of which is a miniature tree that has grown large enough to drape over the table. If I perk my back completely straight, the bright green leaves give me a little scalp massage. It’s quite wonderful.

Straight in front of me is a vintage bar area with no alcohol. Actually, on some days, the space is occupied by an old man who sales his used books with vintage covers for a few bucks. I often come to this bookstore before Barnes and Noble in search for an original copy of a book.

Today, the walls are painted light green, light orange, and peach. I say today because every other week a new artist comes to redo the place. Last week, the walls were completely white and filled with local poetry. Today, the walls are adorned with elementary students’ canvases, bringing even more colors into the equation.

This place is called Winning Coffee, and it is known as the pot and hobo infested coffee shop with really good coffee. Looking outside, a group of homeless men chill at a round table, smoking their cigarettes between thoughtful conversations. After a while of observing them, it seems that they put out their cigarette just so that they can have the pleasure of relighting another cigarette. It seems they have a plethora of cigarettes, in fact.

Unfortunately, I have not been listening to the conversations around me because I did not forget my headphones. But looking around, every type of human is here, displaying the true diversity that Albuquerque houses. We have the college students (one of them is in my class), the business men, the homeless men with a husky, a stressed out blonde mom, a transgendered, my dance teacher, and literally so many other people. Most of them incredibly familiar, so much so that I feel the need to disguise my face and avoid actual eye contact.

Alright, now onto what happened to me on Tuesday. Let’s do this. 

It was obviously a regular day. Nothing about it was different. Like usual, I jaywalked to cross the street from the university to the coffee shops. As I was waiting for the cars to pass, however, I looked down and noticed a card. 

It was a playing card. Specifically, a nine of hearts (or diamonds, I can’t remember, just the fact that it was a bright red). The card looked pretty worn, either from great use or being frequently run over or both. I looked at it for a few seconds, wondering what its journey was. I get it, cheesy as hell. But it’s true. I came up with a story that a bunch of hobos were walking the streets playing cards and probably drunk, and happened to slip one on the ground without noticing. Before the thought could actually be developed, I crossed the street and walked into my favorite sushi-esque restaurant. 

After ordering my food, I decided to sit outside. The outside patio is guarded by a nice, wooden fence that actually has a few slits that gives customers a peek into the outside street. Actually, this is a good thing, because the street actually houses a plethora of homeless people that are actually pretty dangerous and unashamed. 

As I worked on my math homework, a homeless man hobbled on the other side of the fence holding a can of Sprite, presumably full. The only reason I assume it full is because he presently chucked the Sprite past the fence, surprisingly going through one of the slits and landing a few feet away from me, and the can emitted a good amount of soda. I have trained myself to not look up to avoid conflict or confrontation, but I nodded my head up to see a bit of his features as he murmured words to himself.

As he left, I gave the can on the brick ground one last look. In that moment, I couldn’t help but think that only I will know how that can ended up there. Everyone else sitting in this area in five minutes will assume a customer dropped their drink without picking it up. They’d formulate a reasonable answer to their inquiry, almost like I’d done when I saw the cards. Suddenly, I was compelled to know his story. How he was raised, how he became homeless, and so much more. 

I learned the next day that there is an unofficial word for this feeling: sonder.

It’s funny to discover a word like this, because I have felt this way so often. There was once a veteran at Barnes and Noble reading a magazine, and as he carefully caressed each page with a swift and gentle slip of his index finger, the expression in his face changed with little jerks of muscle underneath his eyebrows. I remember my heart flittered, and I desperately wanted to gain the confidence to ask him about his experiences.

I also constantly feel the need to learn languages. After all, it is quite true that knowing someone’s language shows a sense of camaraderie among two people, and an unspoken connection. It is easier to relate to others, and that is something I constantly crave. 

That night I attended my first ever slam poetry show. The poet grew up in Albuquerque, so her poetry is hilariously relatable. As I was in the audience listening to her passion on the stage, I felt a great wave of satisfaction and admiration. Now to seg-way into my constant thought-process.

If I listed my passions in no particular order, they would be:

  - Dancing

  - Computer Science / Math

  - Writing

I’m often in a state of reverie where I imagine myself on the coast of Italy, sitting in a grimy beach house with my typewriter facing the beautiful open doors with the blue ocean. There, I write stories and live. Just live. 

I’ve come to realize that I admire dancers and writers so much more than others. I can’t help but witness their confidence and bravery everyday in rehearsals. These people literally live on nothing (most of the time) because they are that in love with their profession. They are willing to sacrifice everything to express themselves genuinely. 

I have also come to realize that I will never have the bravery it takes to become a dancer or a writer. Currently, these two things are reliable for a mental escape, a willing break that I give myself to focus on the beautiful while simultaneously improving my physique (physically and mentally). Don’t get me wrong, I also love programming and mathematics. Everything I actually pursue is because it is addicting to me, and I feel the urge to finish every task I am given. All my passions are all synonymous with the fact that they are always changing, and so there is always room for improvement (hence the addiction).

In the end, I know that I will choose computer science because it is the safe option. I love it just as much, but I feel a sense of responsibility when I choose that as my future major. After all, it is something I can enjoy and also have financial stability. Also, it is something that I already see as work, so it is very natural for me to continue in that path. I would never want my financial stability to rely on my dance technique or my ability to write as judged by others. I truly believe that I do not have the willpower to endure that. By that I mean having a job like dancing that I eventually hate because it brings me financial stress. And that’s okay.

I am glad I have acknowledged this about myself. It is okay for me to be a coward, because in the end, I always choose to be a realist. In my mind, however, I will always sympathize more with someone who opens an art studio, or self-publishes a book. There is something to be said about someone who can do that. 

I don’t know how to end this post other than to say I hope you learned a new word.

[therewasalittleruru]

This one is for my parents (it’s a long one)

I called my dad tonight after work, letting him know that I had been elected as Communications Officer for my uni’s Psychology Society Executive.  Confession: the last two? years, I have called my family several times a week - -we live in different parts of the country and I only see them once or twice a year. 

The conversation we had made me realise more of the amazing things my parents have done that have made me the person I am now.  I wouldn’t be here without them.

I was born five and a half weeks premature, and was flown (in a prop plane) to a bigger hospital, where I spent three days in the NICU, needing breathing tubes.  There wasn’t enough room in the plane for my mum and a care team for her, so my dad drove my mum 300km to the hospital.

When I was three, my mum retired from teaching when she had my sister.  My dad, who had been a stay-at-home dad, took on multiple part time roles to provide for us.  My brother turned 5 that year, and a year or so later, my mum was the visiting music teacher, and I would go with her sometimes.  I was in the school play as a dancing flower aged 4 because one of the kids was sick.  She also played at Music ‘n’ Movement (there is a photo of me somewhere trying to do belly dancing), and helped out at the rural mobile kindergarten I went to -- I also went to town childcare as well, so I could learn social skills. 

My mum started me in highland dancing when I was 5 (I wanted to do ballet but the nearest school was 50km away), partially because they were concerned that my coordination/balance were not the best.  I have continued to do highland up to this year, and completed all of my exams.

My brother and I just about electrocuted ourselves when I was a pre-schooler by putting sticks into an electric heater. The heater shorted, and my parents then taught us the value of money, by paying us about 5 cents per load of firewood we brought in from the driveway (mine was five sticks of kindling in the trailer of my trike). 

When I was almost 5, I went to school visits. My birthday was in the term holidays, so my teacher offered a bunch of beginner books to read before I started school.  I refused, saying something along the lines of  “Reading is for school, and I’m not at school yet”.   Fast forward a couple of years, and I was sneaking out of bed, to read by hallway light - I had used the batteries in my torch.  I thought I was so clever, but my parents knew all along.  

My mum signed my brother and I up for instrumental lessons when I was 7 - he learned trumpet and I learned violin.  Whilst I don’t ‘perform’ anymore, I still regularly play my violin for church, and learning music benefited so many other areas of my life.

My parents used different rewards/punishment systems for each child -- my brother lost computer time or his allowance was docked, I was only allowed to read the assigned homework pages each day.  I can’t remember my sister’s punishments.  They taught me how to resolve conflicts, and how to make the perfect cup of decaf tea or coffee (really good ploy to stay up later - “I’ll just make myself a Milo whilst I’m making your hot drinks” and then drink it really slowly)

When I was at primary school, I loved learning.  In the senior room, I got to to special projects, and work at my own level.  My parents had chosen our primary school instead of the one closest to our house, and it was next to a sheep farm (we would do cross-country running practice in their paddocks).  The teachers there were excellent, and the educational foundation they gave students is evident in the continual academic success of part pupils at high school prize-givings.  I spent many afternoons at the library where my dad worked.

My family aren’t wealthy, and there were times when my parents really struggled financially, but they never let us know.  I had hand-me-downs from my cousins for a long time.  Sometimes my dad would say that he wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t eat dinner.  Now I know that he was.

We never went overseas, but my parents made sure we saw pretty much the entire country - and the people who lived in it.  They taught us how to interact and care for people from different backgrounds.  They taught me about my family’s history, and my country’s history.  My mum’s family live in Auckland, so we would either fly, or drive the entire way.  I can remember the time we drove a loan van from the vehicle dealership because our (used) Odyssey had broken down under warranty.  Mum and Dad made each of us a box with a map of the South and North Islands so we could draw our way up the country.  We had folders of road trip games, a disposable camera each, which we a scavenger list for photo opportunities.  Our camping trips are some of my favourite memories.

When I went to high school, my love of learning became twisted -- my sole motivation was grades.  Almost every night, I had an extracurricular.  I took the next year up’s Maths class.  I chose to take another class instead of a study line.  In my final year, I chose six subjects, four were by distance-learning.   On a Tuesday, my only taught class was in First Period. On a Friday, it was Last Period.  Every other period was spent hiding away in the science storeroom.  To top it off, I was Arts Prefect, organising most of the intra-school House arts competitions - Pavement Art, Talent Quest, Quiz night.  I was getting to sleep at 2-3am and getting up at 5:30-6am.  Anything less than an Excellence grade I viewed as a failure.  My parents noticed.  In the phone call I had with my dad tonight, he described that version of me as the most driven person he knew.  Interestingly, at the time, Pottermore sorted me into Slytherin - I kind of thought I was more of a Ravenclaw, but it is clear why now. My dad created family movie nights, as a way to unwind and laugh.  There were a few times where I almost broke (I threatened to resign from my Prefect position and only turn up to school for my taught classes).  My composition pieces for music definitely expressed the emotions I was struggling with at the time.

Through all of my ups and downs, my parents were there, encouraging me to do my best, but to be satisfied with the outcome.  They taught me that I don’t have to be perfect.  They taught me to get involved in the community and to volunteer.  They have been my anchor through some tough times, and with them I weathered the storms.  In my first year of uni, my dad was worried that I was falling into the same patterns of being completely focused on study, and forgetting about life.  I missed my Grandad’s funeral, something I still regret, so they sent me the tape.  

Over the last couple of years at uni, they have seen me spread my wings.  I have some sort of social life -- I am involved in cricket, I have a part time job, which I like to think I am good at, and now I am on the Executive for Psyc Society.  I have a (sort of) idea of what I am going to do next year.  My diet needs to improve - I need to eat more spinach, but my mental health is so much better than it was.  My grades for stats are low in comparison to my other papers, but I’m taking it for the knowledge, not the grades, and I’m seeing the payoff  of that knowledge in my Psychology Research Methods paper.  Sometimes you just need someone to be there unconditionally, and they have been.

One of the things my parents taught me was about faith.  They have always been involved in church, and I know that they have been praying for me my entire life.  I think that has been something that has saved me, when everything else has broken down.  I am an active member of my church here, and my foundation in faith has kept me grounded and secure, even in the darkest times.

This is what I am most grateful for. 

I would not be who I am today, without my parents.  Any success I have, is because of them, my friends, and my community.

[onlybucket]

Thursday, January 9

2020

6PM

I didn’t get much done last night.

Art class was okay. we’re working on clay figures right now. It’s actually really fun. I got to talk to Ben a lot.

in math class were learning about proportionate shapes and using cross multiplication to find the variable. I’m not sure I quite understand the material but I really don’t want to get tutoring. I was finally able to log into ClassDojo

ben’s girlfriend, Alison, was moved into our history class. I’ll probably never get to do another project with him. We all started calling him a fish for some reason, (“we”) being Makaylan, Jonathan and I.) I asked him if being a fish was really wet.

Ben was actually a little mean to me today, but I think he does that to everyone except his girlfriend. I don’t know why I like being around him so much but every time I am I just get so smiley and I laugh at everything he says. I wish this crush would go away because it’s just inconveniencing me.

we had a sub in history so we basically just talked and filled out the super easy worksheet.

English class was really funny. we were doing a discussion about some poems we were reading and I was making some pretty funny comments about pistachio ice cream being the same as strawberry or something, and one of the poems had the word gay in it. Obviously I know that gay means happy, but Cody said something like “I have something to say!” so Miss Smith was like “sure what is it?” and then Cody said “this line is pretty gay.”

miss Smith told me that I had to stop making jokes the whole time, which is fair. The rest of the class actually thought I was pretty funny.

during lunch all the gay kids met together and decided that we were all going to meet outside of Mrs. Hughes room and ask for a GSA. I was really nervous about it.

Sherlyn always shares her food with me. maybe she just doesn’t have a big appetite.

Annika from computer science is the new girl and she’s so fucking annoying. I was trying to invite Jason to our group so that we could work on an activity and she kept insisting that we have a girls only group. Wait till she finds out I’m trans. also she kept being really touchy with the materials we were working on.

during science there was this weird camera thing that tracked my teachers movements while recording and I’m pretty sure I was on camera for a bunch of it…

call and re-invited me to his Wi-Fi funeral.

during elevate we as a class made up a bunch of rules about our new life skills unit. Like what to say and what not to say. Then we played charades.

after class Emily, Cody, Adele, and me all went to Mrs. Hughes and asked if we could have a GSA. She referred us to our math teacher, Mrs. angst, and she said that she would look into it and talk to the principal. I’m pretty sure the principles really homophobic though.

i’ve gotten a lot done today. Homework was really hard though because I don’t really understand it. I hope the math teacher doesn’t notice I only did like three out of the nine problems.

I wish I knew Adele was Pam before when she was single. Why do all the best people have to be taken!



[crispyflowerblaze]

school tips, because maybe i can give better advice than administration, who just loves to tell us to get involved 3000000000000 times a day

Find to have some fun each day. Okay, yeah, this is pretty hard. And sometimes impossible, but I think it’s pretty important to try, at least a few times a week or whenever the heck you want, to do something fun by yourself either outside or in your room. Something I’m gonna try to do every day is play a few songs from a musical (probably Book of Mormon) and like just completely PERFORM it, like jump on my bed, dance all over, and sing loudly and stuff like that, IT’S SO FUN and i recommend it!!!!! I just really hope you’re able to do something fun

Okay, spoiler alert, this is actually basically taken from an actual school recommended tip. I’m gonna try to summarize my day after school, I have a google doc called “summarizing what i did each day, or using memes to help me remember stuff” and I just do what the title says, but I also... use memes... which just memes it’s not completely serious, and then I have a “general stuff” section, which explains itself I guess, and then, the best part, is “today’s big mood” and that’s taking one funny or relatable thing I remember that happened. And I think this is gonna be helpful because I can look back on previous days and review, also I can remember funny things and I love doing that!

Use memes in your notes/other shit. This is probably the most important tip. Making “actual serious notes” is SO. BORING. And this is speaking as an A student who most of the time only capitalizes things in personal writing (not stories; like non-story google docs and tumblr posts) for THIS KIND OF STUFF and uses a whole fricking ton of wrong spelling for stuff. I wanted this to be at least a tiny “professional” so I’m capitalizing my “I”s blah blah blah. But when people tell you using text speech will destroy how you write, DON’T. LISTEN. Okay, I’m getting off topic, but anyways, MAKE NOTES AND STUFF FUN. I do this with memes and by shortening EVERYTHING. Do references and funny stuff and if you don’t have free time for fun things, try to make you study/homework time fun!!! Please!!!!! I want you to have fun!!!!!! FUN. IS. FUN. (also, unrelated, but doing things like CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING is really an amazing freedom if you’ve worried about it being annoying. please do things on personal writing and tumblr posts that you have worried about people judging you for! the freedom is amazing!)

USE GOOGLE DOCS. Another really important one for people whose school uses a lot of technology. Google Docs is just amazing, and it’s super convenient!!!!! If you know your email and password (if you’re not sure PLEASE WRITE IT DOWN) then you can always reach it if,,,,, like,,,, you have access to a computer. So if for some reason you have a school laptop that doesn’t connect to your home wifi and you have access to a computer at home, then you can go on that google account and access them; also, it doesn’t take long to get a doc shared and then to go on the account you shared it with. Then from there, or whenever, you can transfer things onto a word or pages document if you need to. So Google Docs should be your go-to thing!!

(adding onto/related to the memes section) Experiment with ways to remember homework/study. Everybody does these things differently, so yeah start with a generic one and make it your own! In 7th grade and most of 8th, I used a “homework chart” which is pretty self explanatory and I filled stuff out for each class. This year I think I’m gonna stick my homework in my summarizing doc. If doing something in a funner (i’m strangely attached to the non-word-but-should-be “funner”) way than the bare minimum of study techniques, FIND OUT WHAT WORKS FOR YOU! Adding onto that, make your own additions to my rules or ignore them completely! Make your own! Whatever! And back to the weird ways to study, last year, for my history EOC, I made possibly the best thing I’ve ever created. It was called “8th grade history in a nutshell” and was sprung from my love of “hamilton in a nutshell” videos and similar ones to other musicals, and the “-musical- in a nutshell” things I’ve done myself. I basically just used memes to describe what I’d learned in history class, using a bunch of Hamilton references, and also, my favorite section, where Andrew Jackson basically just says “FUCK YEAH -something-” or “FUCK NO -something-” because, as I explained, Andrew Jackson was more of a hothead than Alexander Hamilton. So like... I can’t say it enough,,,.. but USE MEMES! That’s what makes learning fun.

Use your knowledge for the True Real-Life Applications. Have you been badgered with that horrible phrase, “real-life applications”? Has it sucked your will to math or science completely? Then reclaim that sucky phrase! My adventures in Reclaiming The Sucky Phrase “Real-Life Applications” include finding out how many miles, feet, and inches there are in a light year, memorizing the number of miles in a light year (um... shoot, i DID have it memorized!), finding out how to pronounce these horribly long numbers, and finding out how many light years the whole human race has probably walked! (2.2 light years. So light travels more in 3 years than the whole human race has walked!) And that was just one day with my friend in science class last year. I also figured out if you could fit the moon in the Pacific Ocean (you can dip it in the center of the Pacific Ocean and it won’t touch continents, but it will touch the bottom, and it’s a LOT taller than the ocean!) and when my dad said (exaggerating, obviously) he got a random pain about every 15 minutes while he was awake, and that he slept about 6 hours a night, I calculated how many times a day, a month, a year, a decade with no leap years (which does not exist XD), a minute, a non-leap-year February, in August, and in a 30 day month he would get a pain. It’s hilarious XD. My point is, you can have fun by figuring things out using the stuff you’ve used and it’s a much better review than homework. (uh, do your homework)

Sometimes musicals can teach you stuff, so like,,,,, listen to musicals,,,,,, that’s all. (Hamilton act 1 for reviewing and Cabinet Battles for history reviews!!!!!!! Trust me)

Speed walking is great! And every time teachers/staff tell you that 5 minutes is completely enough time to CROSS A HUGE CAMPUS THAT YOU BARELY EVEN KNOW WITH A HORRIBLE AMOUNT OF TRAFFIC, I feel you. I am here for you. It’s stupid and unfair. But please, rant to me or somebody who understands how it’s STUPID too instead of teachers/staff. I don’t think it’s a good idea. But yes, please, I understand what you’re going through. It’s dumb as heck.

Judging by all of the “high school will just seem like a bad dream!!” I can assume it’s true. Of course everyone has different high school experiences and problems, but if you want to talk to me and we can rant together, that’d be great!! Ranting is completely fine, so I just hope things will get better. :D

[marigoldbaker]

Imperfections (30/?)

ao3

an update!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hey,” said Buffy, a knot in her chest. Giles looked pale and tired, and he didn’t seem to want to meet her eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve had worse,” said Giles simply, managing a weak smile. “This is all part of the job, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Buffy scooted a little closer to Giles. “Look—I never got the chance to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Giles’s smile faded, his eyes drifting to a point slightly over Buffy’s shoulder. “Buffy,” he said quietly, “honestly, it isn’t that you didn’t tell us. It’s that by not telling us, it seems very much as though you don’t understand the impact Angelus had on all of us.”

Buffy followed Giles’s gaze. Ms. Calendar was unwrapping a candy bar for Xander, fumbling a little with the wrapper. She thought about how fast a typist Ms. Calendar had been last year, compared that to the tiny, unnatural bends in Ms. Calendar’s fingers now. “I didn’t want to scare you guys,” she said.

Giles really did look at her then. “I’m not sure if that’s entirely the truth,” he said heavily. “It was much more frightening to us when we didn’t know if Angel was good or evil—and you say he’s good, but we still have no real way of knowing.”

Buffy felt a flare of defensive anger that she had to suppress. “Ms. Calendar’s spell worked,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I’m positive of it. He’s weak, but—I’ve been taking care of him.”

“For how long?”

“What?”

Giles sat up a little more. “For how long?” he repeated. “We told you the day after Homecoming that we had reason to believe Angelus was back. Did you know then?”

Buffy bit her lip. “Yeah, I—Giles, I just didn’t want you both more upset than you had to be.”

Giles nodded. “I see,” he said, in a way that made Buffy feel like he’d figured out more than she wanted him to. “Jenny and I talked before the meeting in the library, and she was of the mind that your reasons for not telling us had to do with your not wanting to hear objections to being romantically involved with Angel again.”

Buffy looked over at Ms. Calendar again. “Yeah?” she said, trying not to feel resentful. Making snap judgments was never a good decision in Buffy-land.

“She said she didn’t think you were being deliberately disrespectful,” Giles added. “She thinks quite highly of you.”

“Oh.” Somehow that was worse than Ms. Calendar hating Buffy’s guts.

Giles was quiet for a moment, then he said, “It hurts me very much to think that you didn’t consider telling Jenny.”

Somehow that was the worst thing Giles could have said, because it was completely true.

Buffy had been feeling guilty about not telling Willow and Xander and Giles, sure, but Ms. Calendar’s issues with Angel hadn’t once been on the agenda for her. Ms. Calendar had only ever been in Buffy’s peripheral vision last year, but something had definitively shifted over the summer. It was like Ms. Calendar was a Scooby in her own right, not just because of who she happened to be dating, and Buffy hadn’t been around while that change was taking place.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and this time she really did mean it. Like, yeah, she’d meant it before, but she’d been more focused on fixing the damage than actually feeling guilty. She wouldn’t change not telling them; it had been hard enough trying to figure out how to act around Angel on her own, let alone with her friends hanging judgingly over her shoulder. But Ms. Calendar was kind, and Buffy got the sense that she might have had some kind of an ally if she’d at least gone and talked to her.

Giles nodded.

“Oh, hey,” Cordelia was saying to a newly arrived Faith. “There are still some snacks over there, if you—”

“Xander took them all,” said Ms. Calendar ruefully, giving Faith a small grin. “I can go get some more.”

“I didn’t take them all,” huffed Xander.

Buffy looked hesitantly up at Giles. He smiled, and it looked a little more real this time.

“So they picked up Mrs. Post?” Jenny asked Faith, taking her shoes off and settling down on the hospital bed next to Rupert.

“Oh, it was great,” said Faith with a big grin. “God, I wish you’d been there. She started screaming bloody murder about how the Council was foolish and she’d come back more powerful than all of them combined and then one of them put a bag over her head. And then I heard another one of them saying ‘we’ll report back to Travers that the Slayer will remain with Ms. Calendar on a permanent basis’ and that’s like one of the best pre-birthday presents a girl could have, y’know? And I’m thinking—”

“Did you, like, have a bunch of candy?” Jenny teased gently.

“Just a bunch of adrenaline,” said Faith a little breathlessly, sitting down next to Jenny on the bed. “You okay, Giles?”

“Hmm,” said Rupert sleepily, cuddling into Jenny’s side.

“He’s fine,” said Jenny with a relieved smile, running a hand gently through Rupert’s hair. “He’s sleeping it off. Listen, Faith, you’re welcome to stay with us, but if you want to go home—”

“Nah,” said Faith, lying back on the bed. “I’m not feeling like driving your car home late at night. Besides, how’re you guys gonna get to school tomorrow if I took your car home?”

Jenny smiled slightly. “Okay,” she said. “Shoes off if you’re staying, though.” Faith kicked off her boots. One hit the wall and left a noticeable mark. “If anyone asks, that was there when we got here,” Jenny added immediately.

“Sure thing,” Faith agreed. She glanced furtively up at Jenny, then rested her head on Jenny’s shoulder, moving a little closer on the bed. For Faith, that was practically snuggly.

Jenny smiled. “Night,” she said.

Faith was looking at the ceiling. There was a small, soft smile on her face without a hint of her usual guardedness. “Night,” she said, closing her eyes.

Faith had a few nightmares, but nothing awful enough to wake her up, which she figured was pretty good in the grand scheme of things. What did wake her up was Jen very gently shaking her and saying something about how they had to be out of the hospital in time to get to school.

“That sucks,” Faith mumbled, trying to find a blanket to pull over her head. “How much sleep did I get?”

“Six hours,” said Jen, “which isn’t ideal, but you can get some sleep this weekend. Come on. You have that math quiz, don’t you?”

“You know how much I miss not trying in school?” Faith sat up, stretching. “A lot. I miss it a—”

“I got you a cinnamon roll and some hot chocolate,” said Jen with a small smile, handing a paper cup and a pastry bag to Faith.

“Thanks,” said Faith, somewhat taken aback. She took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was still toasty warm, but not hot enough to burn her tongue. “Where’s Giles?”

Jen gestured behind Faith. Turning, Faith saw Giles asleep on the other side of the bed. “He’s staying another day,” said Jen a little smugly. “Took a little fighting on my part, but I got him to go back to sleep.”

“Wow, I must have been out cold if I missed you guys fighting,” said Faith, surprised.

“Oh, it was whisper-fighting,” Jen replied with amusement. “And then he fell asleep in the middle of it anyway, which pretty much proved my point.”

Faith grinned. “Nice.”

“Thanks,” said Jen proudly. “I’m probably going to stay with him, but I wanted to make sure you get to school on time first.”

“How come I don’t get to stay with Giles too?” Faith objected.

“Because school is important and I’m really looking forward to seeing you graduate,” replied Jen without missing a beat. “The robes they have picked out are kind of awful, but I bet you could still make maroon work.” She sat down next to Faith. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Buffy’d miss you if you stayed back from school today.”

Faith grinned. “Shut up,” she said, looking down.

“C’mon.” Jen nudged her gently. “I left my coffee in the car and I don’t want it to get cold.”

“I get to pick what’s on the radio,” Faith informed Jen, reluctantly pulling herself up from the hospital bed.

“Always,” Jen agreed easily.

Faith found her boots by the side of the wall, and while she was putting one on, she happened to look up at Jen. Giles was stirring, and Jen was saying something softly to him, tucking the blankets securely around him.

“You’re kind of a mom,” said Faith. It wasn’t the same derogatory way she’d said it that first night she’d known Jen. Not even close.

Jen smiled. “Well, not in this scenario,” she said. “Right now I’m the doting wife.”

“Did we get married?” said Giles drowsily. “I feel like I might have missed that bit.”

“It’s a joke, honey, get some sleep while I drop Faith off at school.” Jen kissed Giles’s forehead, letting her hand rest on his for a moment before crossing the room to Faith. “Did you get any homework done last night?”

Faith winced. She’d forgotten about that.

“Okay.” Jen frowned. “Yeah. I really didn’t think this one through. Obviously you were pretty caught up with Council stuff yesterday, and you definitely didn’t have time to study for that quiz, so—”

“I’m staying here?” said Faith eagerly.

Jen smiled reluctantly. “You’re doing homework here,” she said.

Faith looked around the sunny hospital room and grinned. “I’ll survive,” she said easily.

“You stay here,” Jen instructed her. “I’m going to get my coffee and your backpack, and then I’m going to call the school and let them know you’re not coming in, and then I probably need to find a computer and email Willow to let her know why I’m not here, so just—keep Rupert company, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Faith agreed, kicking off her boot again. It hit the bedside table with a crash.

“They’re coming!” shouted Giles, sitting straight up. Then, “Oh—what? Oh.”

“Hey, honey, a little less of the ominous predictions and a little more napping, okay?” Jenny walked back over to the bed, gently but firmly pushing Giles back down into the pillows. “You need your rest.” She smiled a little wryly at Faith. “We’re a pretty jumpy bunch, huh?”

Faith snickered, getting up off the floor. “Kinda, yeah.”

Willow got an email from Ms. Calendar in the middle of computer science class (which, incidentally, Ms. Calendar was missing from) and decided not to open it, because it was probably some explanation as to why Ms. Calendar couldn’t be there (again) and it probably had something to do with Faith (again) and it was really starting to get on Willow’s nerves.

Her resolve to ignore Ms. Calendar’s correspondence lasted about thirty seconds before she accidentally-on-purpose clicked on it when her mouse slipped. Just a little.

Willow, hey!!

I’m probably not going to make it to class today. Sorry for the late notice—I’d have told you guys last night, but I was expecting Rupert to have already bounced back by tomorrow. He’s generally pretty good at pretending to recover and then refusing to listen to me when I say another day of bed rest would be good for him, so I figured that’d be the case this time around, but it looks like all that overexerting himself finally caught up to him. Anyway, he’s staying in the hospital today and Faith and I are staying with him—

Willow stopped reading and clicked the email shut.

[whateveriwantchannel]

Hidden (a Septiplier story, Chapter 2)

Mark’s POV I walked down the hospital hall quickly and opened the door. I was there, Jack was there, and he had no hoodie; I could see the wings as clear as day. “What are you?!” A guy in the hospital bed next to me started talking. “H-hello?” I turned to the guy in the bed. He was me. Jack just smiled at the half-conscious version of myself in the bed and flew off. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, Jack was back, standing near the window again. “Jack! ANSWER ME!” “H-hello?” the half-conscious me said again. For the second time, Jack smiled at the groggy me and flew off. I closed my eyes and opened them. My ceiling. I should've known… Why does this bother me so much?! Why can't I get that stupid hallucination out of my head?! I stopped my train of thought when I realized I was pulling my hair a bit too hard. I sighed and got out of bed. I got ready- clothes, hair, bookbag, etc., and then I went downstairs. “Honey?” my mother asked. “Are you okay? You seem a bit stressed…” I sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom.” “Okay. Just tell me if anything is wrong.” And after that short exchange of words I practically inhaled my breakfast, said goodbye, and ran to the bus. I know I'm being watc- WHY CAN’T I GET THAT THOUGHT OUT OF MY HEAD?!? Ugh… I looked out the windows. No one in the cars is looking at you. Chill. But I still couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched. It sent shivers down my spine. I gotta focus on something else other than a stupid superstition… I remembered a way to successfully distract myself, and did it: I texted a group chat that Felix, Bob, Wade and I were in. ‘Buenos dias mis amigos!’ Wade: ‘I’m not ready for Spanish this early in the morning…’ Felix: ‘¿Comó estás?’ ‘Asi asi…’ Bob: ‘I don't even take Spanish… I take Latin’ Felix: ‘Latin is DEAD bro’ Bob: ‘Yea, but it will help on the SATs’ Felix: ‘Ugh…’ Felix: ‘Speaking of tests, do we have any?’ Wade: ‘I don't think we do, but I have no idea about Bob’ Bob: ‘I have 3 tests today. Honors classes, woo’ Felix: ‘Sorry bro’ I turned my ringer off and looked out the window. I should get Jack's number… That thought brought me back to my dream. If I could just see Jack without that hoodie, then I could be completely sure that that was just a silly hallucination. I’ll ask if he can stay at my house, then tell him to relax and take off his hoodie. I just needed to be sure that what I saw was fake. My thoughts drifted from the plan to just Jack in general. He’s a nice guy… Looks nice too. He’s just nice all around. Does he even have flaws? I love that voice, I wonder what it would sound like scr- What the fuck brain?! Seriously, that’s MAJORLY fucked up… I’m fucked up. Nothing like hi- The bus stopped. My head hit the seat in front of me, shocking me out of my thoughts. I looked out the window and saw that the bus had stopped at school. I went out of the bus like all the other kids, then walked to homeroom. The one good thing about school is that I didn't feel like I was being constantly watched. Maybe the stalker was afraid he would be caught if he was on school property or something... Once I was in homeroom, Jack came in not a minute later. I asked him, and we exchanged phone numbers. “Can you also come over maybe tonight?” “Sure! I’d love ta!” Jack grinned, god I love that g- please stop brain. It’s annoying. “Great. Thanks. Uh… how’s your life going?” “Good, and yours?” “...okay…” “What happened?” “Just weird dreams, thoughts, fears... It kinda stresses me out.” Jack seemed to get more concerned, or… interested, in the conversation, watching me closely. He’s a good friend. “...What's so weird about them?” I couldn't tell him, he’d- he’d be scared of me... “Eh… it's nothing, really, just don't worry about it.” Jack let out a silent sigh and looked to the window. I know he's sad I won't share everything with him, but I just don't want him to think I'm insane... The bell rung, stopping my thoughts. "Hey bros!" Felix walked into the classroom. "...What's got you guys down?" That reminded me to smile. “Nothing really. Just there was nothing to make us particularly ecstatic in the first place.” Felix smirked a little. “Well, I’m here now, let the joy begin!” “You're an idiot Felix.” I facepalmed, but couldn't stop the smile underneath. “True. But admit it, I made you smile.” “Heh, yeah…” The one thing I could count on was that my friends were always able to make me smile… I looked over to Jack and he seemed a bit distanced, just staring blankly at me. Like he was bored or something. I realized he was usually looking at me; it was a bit weird… but I guess I didn’t mind. “You okay there, buddy?” I was a bit concerned about Jack. “Yea. I’m gonna go sit.” “Want us to sit with you or...?” “Do whatever you want.” I felt so bad neglecting Jack, even for a second… My grin dropped as Jack walked to one of the seats in the back. I really am clingy, jeez… Ignoring my thoughts, I turned to Felix. “We should sit by him.” “Don’t you spend like all day together?” “He seems sad.” “I can legit see you as a clingy boyfriend for Jack.” “I can legit see you as a shipper.” “Touche.” With that, we went to sit by Jack. He looked surprised, then pleased. I start to wonder what kind of machinations could be going on in his mind, if he was so pleased by me wanting to be near him... “Hey guys!” It was Wade. I greeted him back. “Hey Wade, get Spanish homework done?” Let me guess, no. “Nope! It’s still too early for Spanish.” Knew it. “It’s always either ‘too early’ or ‘too late’ for Spanish homework.” “Except for during class!” “And now I get why you’re barely passing.” “Hi Wade, Mark, Felix, Jack… Wow. Our friend group’s getting big.” Bob walked into the party of kids around Jack’s desk. “THE BRO PARTAY!” Felix threw his hands in the air. “The bigger the louder.” Mrs. Samantha grumbled from her desk. “I think Jack might be the quietest person here, though.” I said. “Everyone is quiet when they are new; for all we know he could get louder than Felix.” Mrs. Samantha responded again, before going back to working on her computer. “Man, that would be impressive.” The ‘bro partay’ continued talking aimlessly, until the second bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom. Jack and I stayed while Bob, Wade and Felix went to their classes. English was relatively fun; we watched videos about the book we were reading. In Spanish we went over homework and a project was announced. Jack wanted me to be his partner; I agreed. Jeez, he’s clingy too. It’s okay though; he’s fun to be around, funny, beau- BRAIN, NO… He’s coming to my house anyway; we’ll work on the project while he’s there. In Science we did a lab; in Social Studies we did the homework for tonight, and in Trig we did math. Finally, we had lunch. Felix was at this lunch, so we sat by him. As I ate, I felt a slight pain... Fuck! I forgot my meds this morning. It'll be alright if I take them as soon as I get home. Definitely before 7… It was Felix who noticed. “Jack? Are you going to eat?” I hadn’t realized it, but he wasn't eating. I had a mouthful of food, so I just stayed silent. “U-uh… No?” “Dude, you anorexic or something?” “Hell no! I’m just… not hungry. I had a big breakfast…” “Dude. Eat.” “I- can’t. I-” Jack looked at his hand and seemed to remember something. He sighed. “Can I tell you guys something?” “Of course!” I was the one to reply this time. “I ...am... fed by an IV… I kinda... get my nutrients in the nighttime.” He bunched up his hoodie sleeve, and showed us his IV puncture. It looked like it was fresh; not even a scab! With my experiences, the wound scabbed over within minutes, but it had been at least hours and his wound still hadn’t scabbed over; how can this be? “Jack, do you pick your scabs?” That was the most reasonable conclusion. “No…” “Why is that wound fresh?” “It just is?” “Do you have a problem that slows healing or something?” The next most reasonable explanation I could think of. “Um… Yeah. I do.” “Is that why you’re not doing PE?” I hadn’t read his doctor’s note, but a condition like that could have been on it. “...um, yeah.” The bell rung, ending our conversation, and we walked out of the cafeteria. Jack kept staring at me… like he was analysing the color of my skin or something… We walked to Study Hall, cringed during Health, and talked during Open Period, I was usually able to keep myself distracted from the slight pain. Jack and I went onto my bus, sitting in the same seat, next to each other. “Huh, I don’t feel like I’m being watched anymore. Weird.” “...weird. You felt like you were being watched?” “Yeah. Anytime I wasn’t in school, or around you, ‘cause when I'm in school I’m always with you.” I chuckled. “Heh, yeah.” “I really wonder how we got the exact same schedule.” “...who knows? At least you’re nice to be around.” “Same for you.” I chuckled a bit. He really is… fuck, pain. When we got to my house, I unlocked the door and we made our way to my room. I sat on the bed while Jack sat on my chair; we talked, blabbering on about school and the internet, until I remembered my plan. “Hey Jack, you might be more comfortable if you take off that hoodie.” “Uh… n-no thanks.” “Why not? Aren't you wearing anything under there?” I chuckled a bit. “Of course I am!” “But seriously, I’ve never seen you without your hoodie.” “Let's go for a walk!” “But you didn't answer my q-” “Come on!” I couldn't really object as he grabbed my hand and we went onto the sidewalk. “Jack, seriously, what the fuck are you doing?” “Getting fresh air.” “There's got to be another reason. Why are you avoiding taking off your hoodie?” “I… I’m just a bit… insecure, about… myself.” “Don’t be, I’m sure you look completely fine!” Probably looks hot as shi- will you ever stop harassing me, brain?! “Mark?” “O - OH. My brain just annoys me sometimes, that's all.” “Weirdo.” Jack chuckled I lo - stop, brain. “Says the one who won’t take off his hoodie.” We both chuckled as we turned the corner. “Yeah, yeah…” Jack said. “There's a ice cream shop about a block from here.” I said. “Want to go there?” “Yeah!” Jack answered. We went across the street and started walking along the sidewalk. “So, you were in the hospital?” Jack asked. “How do you feel after your abdominal surgery?” “How did you know I had an abdominal surgery?” “...School told me?” “Cool…” I groaned, realizing I hadn't taken my meds; my stomach was starting to really hurt. Fuck. “Dude, you okay?” “No… I… forgot to take my meds… I need to go back.” “Okay.” We turned back, Jack with a worried expression on his face, while I tried, and failed, not to groan occasionally. The pain was getting much worse. A few minutes later, my walk had almost turned into a stumble, my mind focusing on the pain and not anything else around. Jack pressed a button and started forwards across the road; I followed him slowly. “Mark… ya gotta move a little faster buddy.” Jack had gotten to the other side while I was only about a quarter of the way there. “Mark, seriously, move faster. The light’s turned green again.” “MARK!!!” I was halfway there… I think. Honestly, my vision was kinda blurry, but I swore I saw a car moving towards my direction, Jack starting to run, and then Jack taking off his hoodie. I was hit by a force at high speed. My body banged against the pavement.

[brianweir-blog1]

Let’s have a Moment

Moment 1:  I’m a Computer Science major, which unfortunately means I also have to be a math minor. So far, none of my programs have required much math that can’t be done using basic trig/geometry – making it even harder to find the motivation to walk all the way from Halls to Knudson every day for my Calculus class. While I understand that more advanced programs probably need more advanced math, it’s still been difficult to find a connection between the two at this point. However, as I’ve complained about it more and more, I’m starting to see the connections. The connection up to this point has been mainly the subconscious transfer of knowledge. Similar to how Geoffrey West was able to use Kleiber’s law regarding the metabolism of animals to discover that “if an elephant was just a scaled-up mouse, then, from an energy perspective, a city was just a scaled-up elephant” (Johnson, 10), I discovered that it wasn’t about the math in-and-of-itself that was crucial – it was the logic. West was able to connect two seemingly unrelated studies to discover an eerie similarity. In both math and computer science, every program/problem relies on the application of prior knowledge and the following of a certain logic. While they may not always be directly related to one another, logical skills learned in math can often be applied to computing as well.

Moment 2: 

Last Thursday, we talked in class about what really bugs us. Although we did not share, I wrote that I felt like I never got a chance to be alone. It seems like someone is always in my room. Pretty much every night, my friends come and hang out into my room to hang out while we do our homework. Don’t get me wrong – I love their company and hanging out with them, but I feel a constant need to be entertaining/ social and it just gets exhausting and a bit claustrophobic. The situation has always bugged me, but never enough to really make a big deal out of so I just let it go. But as I thought about the situation more and more throughout the day and over the weekend, I got progressively more frustrated by it. I determined that this was a situation that needed to be addressed -- it had a certain exigence, if you will. Finally, on Saturday I talked to my friends about it and they were very understanding. Since then, the situation has gotten much better. I’m sure that Blitzer would be overwhelmed with pride not only with my responding to what I believed to be a rhetorical situation but also for the correct(?) usage of “exigence”.

Moment 3: My brother and I are currently planning a trip to Vietnam/Cambodia/Thailand this summer to celebrate his college graduation. When we first started, my mom was very supportive of the trip and even offered to help with some expenses. When we would talk to her about the trip she shared our excitement and even gave us suggestions of things to see/ ways to get around. On the other hand, when we would talk to my dad about the trip all we got was a bunch of “okay”s – which was fine. The problem arose when we booked our flights there/back over winter break. This is likely the only case either of us will admit to actually jumping with excitement. When we told my dad the next morning he blew up claiming he hadn’t heard anything about the trip until then and made us cancel the flights. This created quite a bit of tension between the three of us. Finally, a few weeks ago, we had a conference call so my brother can I could plead our case. My dad is a lawyer, so we quite literally pleaded our case. To start, he actually asked us to make opening statements, then we moved to rebuttals, a bit of back and forth, then he prompted us to make closing statements – the unfortunate part is that I’m not exaggerating this. The call, like many disputes between the three of us, did not feel like two sons talking to their dad, it felt like a courtroom where my dad was the prosecution, judge, and jury. My brother and I have always been bothered by this dehumanizing format of discussion, but since it was not the time to bring this problem up, we just leaned into it. Similar to Boyd’s writing exercise, we were put into a rhetorical situation in which we had no formal training and were made to “choose the right diction or even jargon and to strike the right tone” (Boyd 100). By identifying and conforming to the demands of the courtroom genre, we were able to successfully plead our case for the trip and got approval.

[jeremyau]

“What I Wish They Knew”: 5 Answers from a Government Data Scientist

One of the goals of this blog is to bridge the worlds of tech and government: I believe we can do so much more by working together, yet we often don’t understand each other deeply enough to begin. I will be starting the “What I Wish They Knew” series, which features people who are familiar with both these communities.

The first person to kick off this series is none other than my husband, Kenneth, who worked in Singapore’s Government Data Science unit before pursuing a PhD in Statistics at Stanford. By the way, you can find out more about Singapore’s Government Data Science unit on their blog: http://ift.tt/2mvyb6o – highly recommended.

Kenneth at The Hive, where the Government Digital Services team is located.

How did you get into Government Data Science? 

I’ve had a strong interest in mathematics and related quantitative fields like statistics and computer science for as long as I can remember, and studied math at Princeton as an undergrad. [NB: Kenneth’s mathematics blog can be found here.]

I began my career in the Singapore public service, hoping to give back to society in the small ways I could. While I was at the Ministries of Defence and Environment, most of my work did not involve any advanced math or data analysis.

I missed the intellectual challenge of quantitative thinking, and started taking online courses on the side. Andrew Ng’s “Machine Learning” course on Coursera first piqued my interest in data science. I learnt how we can use a small toolbox of algorithms to extract a whole lot of information from data, and I thought to myself, “How cool would it be if I could use some of these techniques in my work?”

Fortunately, a unit in Government was being set up to do just that: use state-of-the-art data analysis techniques to inform policy decision-making. I joined the Government Data Science unit in 2015 as a consultant. My work experience in policy and my quantitative undergraduate training put me in a rare position to understand the mindsets of both the policy officer and the data scientist. As such, I felt that I was an effective translator between the 2 parties.

How about an example – what is one meaningful thing you did in Government Data Science?

An agency was very concerned about congestion during peak hours at the checkpoint between Singapore and Malaysia. Understanding cargo traffic patterns could help them design policies to reduce congestion. All they had was tens of millions of “permit data” entries, which captured the time that the cargo truck carrying the permit passed through a checkpoint, the industry code and value of the goods carried. I worked with the agency to define useful problem statements to shape the direction of analysis. One example: what are the top 5 industries moving cargo during peak hours? (Since policy interventions would be done at an industry-level).

Next, since each truck could hold multiple permits and the number of trucks was what we cared about, we went through a (non-trivial) process of turning “permit data” into “truck data”. We were able to identify the top industries moving cargo during peak hours, and further narrowed this group to those who were moving cargo on the busiest roads. We were also able to develop hypotheses on what influenced industry behaviour.

After completing the analysis, I shaped the narrative of our presentation in a way that delivered impactful policy insights, ruthlessly cutting down on unnecessary details. This is often the most painful part of the process for a data scientist – it’s so tempting to want to show ALL the great analysis we did.

After dozens of hours of work, there was nothing more satisfying in seeing the audience’s facial expressions saying, in effect, “before I was blind, now I see”! They never had a picture of the cargo traffic patterns until our analysis was done, and could now act upon it to improve congestion.

What is one thing you wish non-data scientists knew about working with data scientists? 

That good data analysis requires significant collaboration between the data scientist and you, the domain expert.

Some people view the relationship between the domain expert and the data scientist as follows:

Domain expert gives data scientist a bunch of Excel files.

Data scientist crunches the numbers and churns out a report or presentation 3 months later. After all, the data scientist knows everything about data and that’s what we are paying them to do, right?

Nothing could be further from the truth! Domain expertise can speed up the data analysis process tremendously and direct it meaningfully, resulting in greater value from the project. Let me give two examples of this.

First, explaining the data to the data scientist, down to what each column means and how the data was collected, will save him/her much second-guessing angst. For example, if the patient check-out time was 18:00:00, does it mean that the person checked out at 6pm, or does it mean that the clinic closed at 6pm, and so everyone who hadn’t checked out yet was given a standard check-out time? Explaining the data will also give the data scientist a better sense of which variables are of greater importance and deserve more attention. In the example above, what does “checking-out” mean anyway, and is it significant?

Second, domain experts can pick up on insights that would escape data scientists. For example, a data scientist finds that Chromosome 21 seems to have an impact on a health outcome. Is that expected? Does it confirm some of the other hunches that we have? Or is it something completely unexpected, that suggests that the model is wrong? These are questions that a data scientist is unlikely to have any intuition about. However, with feedback from the domain expert, the data scientist can quickly decide to pursue or drop lines of inquiry.

As a policy-maker, what is one thing you wish more data scientists paid attention to?

That data analysis is not for the data scientist, but for the policy-maker (or client). As such, good data analysis always puts findings and insights in the proper context.

Consider the sentence: “Our prediction model for which patients will be re-admitted over the next 6 months is 34.56% more accurate than the existing model.” Upon seeing this sentence, several questions come to mind:

What do you mean by accuracy? Is the measure for accuracy that you are using appropriate? (See this http://ift.tt/163XkbV for a whole zoo of accuracy measures.)

56% seems overly precise: can we really compare performance down to 2 decimal places? (35% might be better.)

Does 35% more accuracy translate to a meaningful difference? For example, will this allow us to tailor our services better to 100,000 patients, or 10 patients? (If possible, relate the finding to something the policy-maker cares about, like dollars or man-hours saved.)

Is this even a meaningful thing to predict?? (Hopefully, the domain expert would have said so. See answer to question 2.)

Good data analysis also provides enough detail to illuminate, but not too much till it confuses. For example, saying nothing about the modeling process could make me wonder whether you did your homework in choosing the most appropriate model (and whether I should have spent all that money hiring you). At the other extreme, I will not appreciate going through slide after slide of raw SAS/R output.

At this point I cannot overstate the importance of appropriate data visualisation. These visualisations have to be thought through: good charts clarify, poor ones confuse. Unfortunately, it’s a lot easier to make the latter. (See this for examples not to follow.)

Truly, a (well-designed) picture is worth a thousand words

5. What is your hope for the field of data science?

The economist Ronald Coase famously said “Torture the data, and it will confess to anything.” In an era of subjective reporting and “fake news”, this concern is more pertinent than ever.

My hope is that the general population will have enough statistical knowledge so that they can call a bluff when they see one, and demand quantitative evidence for decisions their leaders make. To this end, I hope to see reforms in statistics education at the high-school level so that it becomes a subject that people feel is relevant and interesting, rather than abstract and theoretical (which is often how it is taught today).

Thanks for reading! Know anyone who should be featured in this series? Do let me know at karentay@gmail.com.

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