When my brothers and I were little we used to play a game called Mary & Joseph (hmmm....wonder where we got those names...). In the game we were orphans running away from Nazis. My mom eventually changed "Nazis" to "nuns" because we were screaming "Nazi!" in public and that wasn't going over so well. We had no idea what Nazis were, but we knew they were bad.
Yesterday I was driving three of our campers from Compton to the theatre and they were chatting with each other in the back seat. Occasionally as they were talking, the boys would randomly say, "German" and the conversation would continue. It happened a bunch of times so I asked the oldest boy, Tyquone, why they were doing that. He explained by saying, "Whenever someone says something really stupid, we say 'German' and hit them in the head." I asked him why and he said it was just something they always did.
Interesting.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
camp camp camp
Tomorrow we start the theatre camp that I'm heading up. I am nervous. We took an infant/child CPR course today. I'm really glad I'm certified now, but I do not ever want to do CPR on anyone. Did you know that if you blow too hard into a person's mouth, the air goes into the stomach and the person vomits? I had no idea that could happen. Then you not only have an unconsciousness problem, you also have a choking on vomit problem and there is an entirely different procedure for choking.
Anyway, I'm nervous and I hope nobody chokes or passes out tomorrow. As long as kids show up and we all get out alive, I will consider camp a success.
Anyway, I'm nervous and I hope nobody chokes or passes out tomorrow. As long as kids show up and we all get out alive, I will consider camp a success.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Anonymous M.D.
A couple of months ago, I read an interesting book called "Unprotected: A Campus Psychiatrist Reveals How Political Correctness in Her Profession Endangers Every Student." My Catholic/socially conservative friend recommended it to me, so I assumed the subject would lean in that direction, but I was determined to keep an open mind and started reading. You know when you find out about something amazing and you feel like you have to tell EVERYBODY what you have learned...? That's what happened to me. The author, Anonymous M.D., paints such an accurate picture of the college experience in today’s world - it's incredible. I want every woman I know to read this. She uses medical evidence to argue that the American Psychiatric Association is overly concerned with being politically correct, which ultimately forces psychiatrists to focus on the physical well-being of young college women rather than their emotional well-being. She discusses fertility, abortion, STDs, religion...pretty much everything. The best thing about the book is that she seems to understand my generation and knows how to argue with us. We've been taught to rely on fact and she uses nothing but scientific evidence to support her main points. The only real downside is that she mentions that she is religious. I didn't like that because it is completely unnecessary and probably turns a lot of people off, which is a shame because the book is fascinating. Here is a quick overview from the American Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research (I shortened it a bit):
According to a 2004 survey by the American College Health Association, nearly half of all college students report having felt so depressed at school that they have had trouble functioning. The National Survey of Counseling Center Directors revealed last year that nine percent of all students sought help at their college mental health center. Many suffer eating disorders, self-mutilation, binge-drinking, the stress of boyfriends, exams, and broad-spectrum angst.
In this sobering expose, Dr. A argues that the culture on campus--and in her profession--is so steeped in political correctness that it hamstrings the ability of therapists to help college students. The doctor's frustration steams off every page: "We ask about child abuse, but not last week's hook-ups," she laments. "We want to know how many cigarettes and coffees she's had each day, but not how many abortions in her past. We consider the stress caused by parental expectations and rising tuition, but neglect the anguish of herpes, the hazards of promiscuity, and the looming fertility issues for women who put their career first."
In the training workshops she attends, Dr. A would like to see less focus on sexual experimentation and social oppression in the counseling of young people and more consideration of meaning, hope, and purpose. "Many would benefit from being less self-absorbed, not more," she says. Indeed, the general sensibility on campus, as the author paints it, is a jumble of mixed messages.
A cardiologist, she argues, feels perfectly justified in offering judgments about a patient's sedentary lifestyle. The truth may hurt, but no one worries that a fat man with hypertension will be offended by being told he should lose weight and exercise. But if a mental health physician has the gall to suggest to a young female patient displaying serious symptoms of depression that she might improve the quality of her life if she changes her casual attitude toward sex—well, that crosses the line. That's a value judgment and not medicine, she is likely to be told. Anonymous begs to differ. "I argue as a scientist," she says, "with biological facts, not biblical ones. Forget Leviticus—as you'll see, my data is from The New England Journal of Medicine and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention."
Anyway, I thought of this book again last night, went online to see how people are reviewing it and made some frustrating discoveries. Judging from their comments, it seemed that most of the reviewers hadn’t even read it. They were immediately turned off by the fact that the author argues that men and women are fundamentally different. As a result, they completely write everything off. I was so mad.
What made me the most upset is that I had to try really hard to find reviews at all. This book isn't sold in stores and hasn't gotten a lot of attention. everyone should read it, especially if you're still in college. It really rang true for me and if anything, it provides for some interesting discussion.
According to a 2004 survey by the American College Health Association, nearly half of all college students report having felt so depressed at school that they have had trouble functioning. The National Survey of Counseling Center Directors revealed last year that nine percent of all students sought help at their college mental health center. Many suffer eating disorders, self-mutilation, binge-drinking, the stress of boyfriends, exams, and broad-spectrum angst.
In this sobering expose, Dr. A argues that the culture on campus--and in her profession--is so steeped in political correctness that it hamstrings the ability of therapists to help college students. The doctor's frustration steams off every page: "We ask about child abuse, but not last week's hook-ups," she laments. "We want to know how many cigarettes and coffees she's had each day, but not how many abortions in her past. We consider the stress caused by parental expectations and rising tuition, but neglect the anguish of herpes, the hazards of promiscuity, and the looming fertility issues for women who put their career first."
In the training workshops she attends, Dr. A would like to see less focus on sexual experimentation and social oppression in the counseling of young people and more consideration of meaning, hope, and purpose. "Many would benefit from being less self-absorbed, not more," she says. Indeed, the general sensibility on campus, as the author paints it, is a jumble of mixed messages.
A cardiologist, she argues, feels perfectly justified in offering judgments about a patient's sedentary lifestyle. The truth may hurt, but no one worries that a fat man with hypertension will be offended by being told he should lose weight and exercise. But if a mental health physician has the gall to suggest to a young female patient displaying serious symptoms of depression that she might improve the quality of her life if she changes her casual attitude toward sex—well, that crosses the line. That's a value judgment and not medicine, she is likely to be told. Anonymous begs to differ. "I argue as a scientist," she says, "with biological facts, not biblical ones. Forget Leviticus—as you'll see, my data is from The New England Journal of Medicine and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention."
Anyway, I thought of this book again last night, went online to see how people are reviewing it and made some frustrating discoveries. Judging from their comments, it seemed that most of the reviewers hadn’t even read it. They were immediately turned off by the fact that the author argues that men and women are fundamentally different. As a result, they completely write everything off. I was so mad.
What made me the most upset is that I had to try really hard to find reviews at all. This book isn't sold in stores and hasn't gotten a lot of attention. everyone should read it, especially if you're still in college. It really rang true for me and if anything, it provides for some interesting discussion.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Weird occurrences at the Lyric lately...
Lady walks in with extremely spaced-out look on her face and smells of alcohol. She asks me if we are a counseling service. I tell her we are a theatre. She looks around. Looks at Dan. Asks me again and I tell her again that we are a theatre. She leaves. Five seconds later she walks back in. Same look on her face. She asks me if we are a counseling service in the exact same tone as if she has never seen me in her life. Seriously, it was like her memory was erased - so friggin WEIRD.
Lady walks in with pile of socks...
To me: "Do you want to buy some socks?"
me: "No thanks"
To Dan: "Do YOU want to buy some socks?"
dan: "Um, no...thank you"
Lady leaves theatre.
Man with cowboy hat walks into theatre and immediately goes to the back. Dan and I follow. Man is clearly in the bathroom. Comes out of bathroom and walks toward front door without looking at either of us.
Me: "Excuse me sir, can I help you? Did you just need to use the bathroom?"
Man (exposing a mouth with no teeth): "Yeah. Unless you wanna sit down and talk about it."
Me: speechless
Lady comes to the door with 5 yr old kid.
Lady: Is this 520 North La Brea?
Me: yes, this is the Lyric Theatre
Lady: 5-2-0 North La Brea?
Me: Yes
Lady: I need to talk to Hazel
Me: Sorry, you must have the wrong address. I don't know a Hazel
(shows me a piece of paper with Hazel's name and number on it)
Lady: Can you call Hazel and tell her I am here?
Me: No...I'm sorry...I don't....
(awkward silence)
Me: You can call her on our phone if you like...
(She gets on the phone, calls Hazel, it's ringing, she puts the phone over to me)
Lady: Can you tell Hazel I'm here?
Me (thinking): WTF?! WHO IS HAZEL???
Guy comes into the theatre and pays for a $25 ticket in CHANGE. (not that weird, but wanted to write it cuz it's annoying)
OK......be prepared because this next story is BY FAR the strangest occurrence to date:
A man runs inside during the day. Dan calls out to see if he needs something. The man is in a huge hurry and says, "Can i PLEASE use your bathroom??" and rushes to the back. Without a chance to say no (we are not a public toilet!), Dan watches him run to the back.
Neither of us think anything of it until later when an audience member comes up to Dan and tells him that we need to seriously clean up the bathroom area.
Dan goes back and there is SHIT EVERYWHERE. Not kidding. e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. we are talking IN THE SINK, guys.....in...the....sink.
WTF??????? Who runs in, shits everywhere and leaves? I mean really!?!?!!? Poor Dan had to clean it. Seriously....so ridiculous.
Lady walks in with pile of socks...
To me: "Do you want to buy some socks?"
me: "No thanks"
To Dan: "Do YOU want to buy some socks?"
dan: "Um, no...thank you"
Lady leaves theatre.
Man with cowboy hat walks into theatre and immediately goes to the back. Dan and I follow. Man is clearly in the bathroom. Comes out of bathroom and walks toward front door without looking at either of us.
Me: "Excuse me sir, can I help you? Did you just need to use the bathroom?"
Man (exposing a mouth with no teeth): "Yeah. Unless you wanna sit down and talk about it."
Me: speechless
Lady comes to the door with 5 yr old kid.
Lady: Is this 520 North La Brea?
Me: yes, this is the Lyric Theatre
Lady: 5-2-0 North La Brea?
Me: Yes
Lady: I need to talk to Hazel
Me: Sorry, you must have the wrong address. I don't know a Hazel
(shows me a piece of paper with Hazel's name and number on it)
Lady: Can you call Hazel and tell her I am here?
Me: No...I'm sorry...I don't....
(awkward silence)
Me: You can call her on our phone if you like...
(She gets on the phone, calls Hazel, it's ringing, she puts the phone over to me)
Lady: Can you tell Hazel I'm here?
Me (thinking): WTF?! WHO IS HAZEL???
Guy comes into the theatre and pays for a $25 ticket in CHANGE. (not that weird, but wanted to write it cuz it's annoying)
OK......be prepared because this next story is BY FAR the strangest occurrence to date:
A man runs inside during the day. Dan calls out to see if he needs something. The man is in a huge hurry and says, "Can i PLEASE use your bathroom??" and rushes to the back. Without a chance to say no (we are not a public toilet!), Dan watches him run to the back.
Neither of us think anything of it until later when an audience member comes up to Dan and tells him that we need to seriously clean up the bathroom area.
Dan goes back and there is SHIT EVERYWHERE. Not kidding. e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. we are talking IN THE SINK, guys.....in...the....sink.
WTF??????? Who runs in, shits everywhere and leaves? I mean really!?!?!!? Poor Dan had to clean it. Seriously....so ridiculous.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Darby Downer
I recently went to a party and had a pretty long conversation with a girl who is currently a sophomore in college. We talked about the usual stuff like jobs, majors, our goals, etc etc…..all the stuff you always feel like you need to say when you initially meet someone. It was a pretty normal interaction, nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason, I can’t get the conversation out of mind.
She was talking about all of her plans for the future – she wants to go abroad for this amount of time and study in Washington D.C. for this amount of time and get this and this degree and go to this grad school (fyi - when you say it repeatedly, “this” becomes a weird word)…..and the whole time her excitement was making me feel so very old. I was just like her when I was a sophomore! I had everything planned out years ahead of time. Then she asked me about my dreams and aspirations. I told her that I have the job that I’ve wanted to have for years and I’m pretty happy with it. The conversation suddenly went silent. There was sort of a “that’s it?!” look on her face, like I should have something more to say. I felt like I should elaborate in some way to make my life somehow more…important? Legitimate? I wanted to say something like, “but I plan to go to Nigeria to work at an orphanage and then after that I’m going to get my Masters at Stanford and then blah blah blah (insert really cool life things here).”
As an insecure 20-something going through the usual what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life phase (well, more of a constant state of being than a phase), I realized that I’ve been feeling weird lately because I’m no longer looking for the next thing to do. School is just a period of time where you wait for real life and since I’m not in school anymore, I’m in real life and I’m not waiting anymore. This sensation is so weird and new. I’ve been in school for 17 years and I don’t really know how to act now that it’s over. My immediate reaction is to apply to grad school and postpone the inevitable. Everybody’s doing it, so I probably should too. But I am basically happy with my job and that’s a really good thing. I’m not saying I am completely satisfied at all times and have no desire to do anything else, but I am essentially happy at the moment with my professional life (personal life aside). I think it just feels strange not to be applying for something or studying for some enormous test.
Maybe I am just paranoid (and that is probably the case because she was a really nice girl), but I felt like this girl was thinking, “I’m not going to be like her, I am going to do great things.” But I wanted to say to her, “I AM doing great things!” She might have all these grand plans, but are a thousand amazing dreams better than one? Her excitement annoyed me. I wanted to tell her to chill out, but then why would I want to squash such happy (if naïve) optimism? I’m not Scrooge and I’m not bitter……but everything that I’ve typed so far would suggest that I am bitter. I am mad at her optimism and he 5-year plan and her plans to go abroad.
So I guess what I am saying is that maybe this conversation disturbed me so much because I’m not as happy with my job as I initially thought. Or maybe I am happy, but I’m just feeling restless because I’ve been trained (throughout my time in school) to constantly search for the next project (“on to the next club!” Corey would say). I don’t know, but I’m still thinking about it.
She was talking about all of her plans for the future – she wants to go abroad for this amount of time and study in Washington D.C. for this amount of time and get this and this degree and go to this grad school (fyi - when you say it repeatedly, “this” becomes a weird word)…..and the whole time her excitement was making me feel so very old. I was just like her when I was a sophomore! I had everything planned out years ahead of time. Then she asked me about my dreams and aspirations. I told her that I have the job that I’ve wanted to have for years and I’m pretty happy with it. The conversation suddenly went silent. There was sort of a “that’s it?!” look on her face, like I should have something more to say. I felt like I should elaborate in some way to make my life somehow more…important? Legitimate? I wanted to say something like, “but I plan to go to Nigeria to work at an orphanage and then after that I’m going to get my Masters at Stanford and then blah blah blah (insert really cool life things here).”
As an insecure 20-something going through the usual what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life phase (well, more of a constant state of being than a phase), I realized that I’ve been feeling weird lately because I’m no longer looking for the next thing to do. School is just a period of time where you wait for real life and since I’m not in school anymore, I’m in real life and I’m not waiting anymore. This sensation is so weird and new. I’ve been in school for 17 years and I don’t really know how to act now that it’s over. My immediate reaction is to apply to grad school and postpone the inevitable. Everybody’s doing it, so I probably should too. But I am basically happy with my job and that’s a really good thing. I’m not saying I am completely satisfied at all times and have no desire to do anything else, but I am essentially happy at the moment with my professional life (personal life aside). I think it just feels strange not to be applying for something or studying for some enormous test.
Maybe I am just paranoid (and that is probably the case because she was a really nice girl), but I felt like this girl was thinking, “I’m not going to be like her, I am going to do great things.” But I wanted to say to her, “I AM doing great things!” She might have all these grand plans, but are a thousand amazing dreams better than one? Her excitement annoyed me. I wanted to tell her to chill out, but then why would I want to squash such happy (if naïve) optimism? I’m not Scrooge and I’m not bitter……but everything that I’ve typed so far would suggest that I am bitter. I am mad at her optimism and he 5-year plan and her plans to go abroad.
So I guess what I am saying is that maybe this conversation disturbed me so much because I’m not as happy with my job as I initially thought. Or maybe I am happy, but I’m just feeling restless because I’ve been trained (throughout my time in school) to constantly search for the next project (“on to the next club!” Corey would say). I don’t know, but I’m still thinking about it.
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