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Sunday, 7 October 2012

Education

This is one of my 'identity journals' for my sociology unit, as I'm studying Psychology with a minor in criminology. I love sociology, it is rather interesting. Sort of like economics, but with less numbers :D. This topic was 'education', and how I felt that the education system reflected on me and so on, using sociological theories that I had just read about as part of that weeks lecture.

Also, I HATE spelling 'bourgeoisie' I can never, EVER remember how it's spelt off the top of my head and it is very vexing.
~~~~

Education...hmm. This is a bit of a tricky topic. The notes taken for this weeks lecture would have me put squarely in the 'bad guy' category, of the bourgeoisie, as I went to a private school for the majority of my education. I spent hrm, the first 4 years of my educating life in a public school, and that was found to be a little 'lacklusture' by my parents, even if I did adore one of my teachers specifically. My year 2 teacher, Mrs Ketelle. We all called her Mrs Kettle, the poor dear, but she was brilliant.

And then for year three I had a Mrs Finlay or something and I think she was not quite as clever as she thought she was. If you are a teacher and do not know how to spell 'spaghetti' when asked, and another student tells you -how- to spell the word, do not argue with that child until they get the mother loving dictionary and open it to the page and point out the word and how to freaking spell it, as how THEY were SAYING IT. Argh. Yeah. I was that kid.

Year 4 had me going to a private school, which was both better, and worse. See, better education, but slightly worse with the social interaction thing, as the classmates were no longer people from wherever, but the 'upper class' of that particular town, and the majority of them were rather hmm... clique-y. Didn't help that I wasn't part of the fashionable crowd and far too fond of books but... eh. No matter.

I enjoy learning. I am happiest when I am learning something new, -and- when I have something physical to balance it out, however, this isn't always the case and I do end up rather tired at the end of the day without much time for the whole, rest and relaxation thing that isn't sleep. I am also the first and only member of my family (including cousins and extended family) that has gone to university, so there is that. There was a lot of pressure from my parents (particularly my mother) all through my schooling years to get good grades and go to University. I start -going- to university and my mothers pressure turns to 'get a job! Just start working! Get a job and don't worry about the education it's a waste of time what you're doing'. Go figure. So, I drop out (she convinces my dad to stop paying for my tuition, and won't let me get a HECS debt) and then she turns on a dime and pushes for me to go to TAFE instead of uni (It's cheaper and does the same thing!) which... yeah. Bleh. My dad encouraged my learning, my mother forced it down my throat and nothing I did was ever good enough for her. Hrm. But none of this really relates to the specifics of the topic.

I -can- see the difference between the public school systems and the private schools, not so much between suburbs as I was a country kid and it was, you know, two towns. One only had a public school, the other had one of each. Not exactly spoilt for choice. But I attribute the major difference to the fact that public schools have a what, $60 per term tuition fee, while the private schools had around a $2000 per year tuition fee. Sure, it's a little bit more -- plus the cost of the books and uniform -- but it enabled the school to give a better quality of teaching. Class sizes were 15-25 or there about, rather than the 30+ from the public classroom. Less students = greater individual attention from the educator and more emphasis on the parents getting the most out of the school because of how much they are investing in their childrens education. Compared to the public schools, where most parents nowadays are not so interested in their childs welfare, or education especially, because it is 'boring' and 'difficult'.

But, eh, there isn't really all that much, that I can see, that can be done about it. Oh, and the school education trend where kids 'can't fail'? Utter balony. If you give no consequences to not paying attention, and no real reward for them to excell then the point of it is lost to the children and the value of the education reduces. Drastically. In my opinion, at least, as I went through school going from getting letter grades, like B+ and A, to getting 7E and a paragraph to explain what it meant. -_-

In university sure, that sort of thing is helpful, as you can see where you're going wrong and where you need to improve and you still get a 'letter' mark at the end of it, rather than 'halfway between 7M and 7E' what does that meaaaaaane?!!?@!?@ Gyah.

I worry about the education system, when teachers are valued less than a babysitter and they do so much more.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Clean and tidy vs clean and messy vs dirty and messy.

This is just to get the definitions out there for folk who seem to have issues with it.

Clean and Tidy

Clean and tidy people are people that have everything tucked away into cupboards, all the surfaces in the house are completely dust and ornament free, the floors are kept meticulously dirt free, carpets either new or vaccuumed/steamed so often that you don't dare set foot on them because odds are, your feet'll be dirtier than the carpet. Even fresh out of the shower. And it's some pale colour that would show up that dirt really easily and with malicious glee. Everything is cleaned two or three times a week to keep it in that sparkling 'zomg new house' state. Personal hygeine is up in the lists of 'must do', along with ironing every little piece of clothing from the $400 suit to the underwear.

Obviously, I am not one of these peoples.

Clean but messy

These are your more 'common' types of middle-classish individuals, where they keep things clean but have more crap than cupboards and end up festooning surfaces with said crap. These types of individuals clean the bathroom, floors or whatever once a month or so, when they have the time, or inclination, unless something epically dirty happened -- like an entire plate of nachos landing nachos' down on the floor. *sigh* and then it's all guns blazing to remove the mess before it dries and becomes a bigger problem. Personal hygeine is up in the lists, but having perfectly ironed clothes from the shirt to the underwear ... not that big of a deal.

Voila, this is me.

Dirty and Messy

These are the people that have a more 'laid back' attitude towards hygeine and cleanliness, the sorts that have last weeks take away leftovers sitting on the table getting eaten by the ants sort of 'laid back'. Everything is everywhere and there is not just dust on the surfaces but greasy grime and muck and ickness. The spilled drink staining a sticky patch on the floor two days after it was dropped and so on.

Not me either!

(Also, I found this post unpublished from all the way the hell in the -past- and I have no idea where I was going with this o.o but, here we are! Enjoy)

~Think of the Possibilities.

Google+

Firstly, I give my belated apologies to whoever posted a comment about my lack of a facebook/twitter like button and whatnot. I am so sorry but I have absolutely NO IDEA on how to update that or put it on, and if you like me great! Spread the word the old fashioned way, by word of mouth! Or copy paste the link into your facebook feed. Or SOMETHING. I don't know. Ahem.

On that note, however, I have now put all -three- of my blogs onto google+ under the one profile. Yes. Three. This one, and another one that I dedicate solely towards sharing my fine cooking skills with the sporadic few that may be interested in them, Sustenance Sans. It is located here if you desire to have a bo peep. Fair warning, I hardly use facebook -or- twitter at the best of times (twitter is @shaedowdancer) so odds are I'll barely use google+ as well! Other than, you know, to tell the watermelon and paper bag with a face drawn on it that I posted whee! I also have a deviantart page here if you want to have a look at sporadic art updates, a more general update is a furaffinity page here which has more arts and pictures and oh god the horrorrrrr that is me in a couple places. View at own risk! (Seriously, there is a lot of crappy pencil work in there my god).

Give me a shout hello, or something. Love to hear from people that are not trying to sell me things, thanks. :D

~ Think of the possibilities.

Midnight Cravings

The Darkness surrounds me,
light is a distant memory,
haunting the shadows of my mind.
I do not mind the darkness
nor the sibilant whispers,
ever craving for justice, or revenge.
It matters not which.

To drown out the silence I remember.
I recall those hated days,
the long, desolate, lonely nights.
Rotations of a cycle that always, always
lead up to that Day.
And the Night that caused it.

Recollections of then, the long ago,
the distant warmth, turn, turning
(Sister, I am sorry. I miss you)
The sun, ever warm, ever burning.
Sometimes it crackles like fire,
but mostly it just hangs, ominous.
Tormenting me with silence.

It is so quiet up here.

~~~~

Years ago, days and centuries to turn,
too many to count, sweet Celestia bore
the love, the warmth, the adoration;
most often she, the sun, was in folklore.
The soft shadow, ever present,
ever quiet and shy, forgotten Luna,
the fair moon of neglect.

Present and unassuming, secondary
(or so the rumours say)
to the Suns bright presence
for which the ponies would play.
Until exhausted, they lay to sleep
under the nocturne shroud
and the silence it needs to keep.

Soft and fine in ways the Sun was not,
the night, the moon, a pale shimmer glow.
A cold light oft shunned, eyes turned away
to favour the brilliance of the dawn.
To thaw the frost, ease the breathy chill,
bright colours in cold rain, light across the sky
voices lift in joy, incandescent ecstatic thrill.

Fair moon, sweet Luna, shut not your eyes;
let not the silent bindings twine and bloom.
Lock not your heart to the warmth.
Play, sweet Luna, you will soon rejoice
but not before, rich with fear
you awake as Nightmare Moon.

To eternal darkness the Sun objects,
a clash of wills, crossing of twin horns
the feathers dark and pale flutter and fall.
Water eclipsed, dripping dawns soft warmth;
silence held in a locked heart, ice pierced in twain,
with a dark shaft of rainbow night, pushing,
binding the Nightmare to Luna's moon.

Mythos, mares tale, disbelieving whisper.
Rumours of the sweet, shy Luna.
The Mare in the Moon, ever silent
ever shy, ever watching, trapped;
a cage of her own making, bars of silence hold
locked by broken-heart tears of the Sun.

Ten times ten the bars will hold,
keeping the Night at bay.
Seven tears fell, seven stars conspire;
time to end the hold of Day.
(Sister, I am sorry. I miss you)
Still the silence, locked within
binds to keep the pair apart.

In blackest Night, in brightest Day,
seven stars conspire and will hold sway.
Bars to be lifted, the night roams free.
Sweet Luna, turn not your face,
harden not your heart and rejoice
to know the end of Nightmare Moon.

Seven tears fell, six voices raised
not to banish, not to silence,
rather cut the bindings and thaw the ice,
Sweet Luna, fair Moon, shut not your eyes.
Be welcome in the warmth,
welcome in from the frozen chill
(Sister, I am sorry. I miss you)
the binding silence is shattered.

From the writings of history,
the pony interpretation of that Day
and the Night that caused it.
A tidbit of detail to be forgotten,
for if she has her way, soon,
this will be the all and only, a record
of she who never was; Nightmare Moon.

~~~~~

I feel the silence now, it is part of me,
but it doesn't strangle me, now.
Not any more and never again.
I look to the familiar, silver orb,
my gaol, my cell, my home;
And I smile.

Sunday, 10 April 2011

Alone In The Dark

The most pointless confusing counterintuitive game I have ever had the misfortune to play. Fair enough that I am not the most competent of gaming individuals, it's not like I go out and buy and clock a new game every week but... godamn.

I got ...just passed the title screen. That is how 'good' this game is. My god.

Okay, you start with the opening cutscene, sure whatever, except oh no, you have to BLINK. Blink your way through a cutscene. If you don't blink, everything goes white and you can't see. Which defeats the whole purpose of the cutscene thing. If you can't watch it then... well.

Some talking about something and someone gets hit, I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention because I kept on having to BLINK. But, eventually you get to walk and blink at the same time. Whoooo, multitasking! Sadly, I also lacked the intuitive manner in which I could turn and walk and blink. Just walk sideways and grind your face against the wall until getting hit by the guard to swing you around, and oh hey, have to climb some stairs, and blink.

He ends up dying, and I spent, I swear to god, fifteen minutes blinking and trying to figure out where I was supposed to go. Yay, a mirror! Punch the mirror and we can now be a camera. Awesome.

...this is the general theme of the sodding game. You climb a rope, okay, my version is for the Playstation 2, so it was X to jump and grab the rope, but square to jump while holding -onto- the rope because if you x jumped you let go of the rope, fell to your doom and died and had to go through the sodding thing all over again. Oiye.

I managed to get through putting out some fire, bashing in a door, and getting over a hole in the floor. Which, lo and behold, brought me to the TITLE SCREEN. I now know what game I am playing.

Jumping onto a rope and a ledge and dying umpteen million times, and I gave up. Literally. And it took me an HOUR to get there. ...I died a lot.

Now, if you want to -play- this game, I highly recommend you do so with an audience of other people who have learnt the joy of Alone In The Dark. Why? Because that makes it a fun game. It is just a game of fail, really. The audience spends more time reminiscing about how -they- failed attempting to do anything in the process.

This game seems to be a mash up of all horror genres with the least amount of sense possible. You start confused, and it just doesn't get any better. You start out with blinking and whitescreen, people getting eaten by shadows, fire, then progress to cracks in the floor that eat you and drag you around, and zombies. Where the HELL did the zombies come from? I mean -really-. The hungry floor is -somewhat- plausible, the shadows that ate people had to come from -something- right? But -zombies-. What the hell?! ...And everything is strangely immune to fire.

It is the best game to make fun of, because it is so counter-intuitive to play. That is the sole saving feature of the game. You can watch someone -else- play it and fail. And laugh.

Saturday, 29 August 2009

Work

Okay, sound this out with me. It's been three months, and I have been working every week on saturday night, 6-midnight. Work did -not- have any extra shifts for me, period. not even ONE, for that entire three months unless they called me in because someone called in sick.

I get asked to work in another store, I agree instantly, and make noises about offering them more of my free time as they need it. I work at this other store, actually -enjoy- working at said other store and all of a sudden they require me to work in that store three days in a row? Hmm. I smell something a little bit sus.

So, I check the roster, and lo and behold, I finally have an extra shift! methink mazing! However, they neglected to inform me that there -might- have been changes to my usual routine, and so, I neglected to inform myself of this.

Am I over reacting? is the fact that I -liked- the time spent working in another store -not- synonymous with extra shifts in the store that I was first employed in, a store that miraculously have the extra hours to give me?

Oh, there's another -delightful- part of working there. See, Assistent Manager A is a biatch, and a mean manager. So to complain about Assistent manager A, you have to go to Store Manager B. Slight problem, Store Manager B and Assistent Manager A are good friends... so guess who's word is going to get more weight? Okay, so now we have a problem with Store Manager B, so we go up another rank on the tier to Area Manager C. You with me so far? But alas! Store Manager B and Area Manager C live IN THE SAME HOUSE. Guess who's bedbuddies hmm? And to go above Area Manager C you have to ask.... State Manager? or something? about it, but alas, there is this slight problem of NOT KNOWING WHO THE FUCK THAT IS.

A + B + C = you are screwed.

Monday, 10 August 2009

And now, for your regularly schedualed chaotically supplied diversion of the amusing factor



<3 Total eclipse of the heart. Literally.



Meatloaf! Anything for love.

And that is your reguarly schedualed but chaotically supplied diversion of the amusing factor. Have a nice day ^^

~ShaedowDancer~

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

Quote of the Month -- and poem

Rylia says, "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pr0n surfed, weak and weary,
over many a strange and spurious site of 'hot xxx galore'.
While I clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning,
and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour,
"'Tis not possible!", I muttered,"Give me back my free hardcore!"
Rylia says, "Quoth the server, 404."

That made me hurt myself laughing. Credit goes to Rylia, and Dianna, and the adult fun-place of textual imaginings known as Shangri-La. But enough about the credit. Now, for a new poem! I haven't been writing as much as I did two years ago, but well, there you have it.

Wish, Wish, Wish.

Wish for a story,
Pray it is true.
Hope they are happy
and love pulled through.

Wish for a memory
of loves first kiss,
hope that it curdled
with a flick of the wrist.

Wish for a dream;
The sky turns red.
Fire on the horizon
mourned by the dead.

Wish for the hope
Where has love gone?
Down the drains of misery,
preyed on by the unbourne.

Hate is the cure,
Pray for the end.
Misery take you,
my long forgotten friend.

Finis.

Just a simple, short thing really. A ten minute bus trip worth of time. :)

~ShaedowDancer~

Saturday, 13 June 2009

Complaints!

I seem to be in a complaining mood today, so I shall complain!

First up: LISTEN, think, pause, reply.

Please, for the love of god, when you are TALKING to someone, LISTEN to what they are saying before you spout out some completely off-tangential question. For example, asking someone if they have anything planned for the evening? 'no', do NOT then ask them what they are DOING in that VERY SAME EVENING. The answer will be 'no'. I mean, dude, seriously, you just ASKED THAT.

Dickhead.

'what are you doing now?' 'watching tv' 'so what are you drawing then?' .........

.... -_-

'I just said that I am watching tv' 'oh sorry. What are you watching?' 'tv'.

Hint: If you are getting the equivalent of a monosyllabic reply that tells you precisely what you asked and not one whit more, odds are THEY DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. And please, with sugar on top, do NOT keep asking questions because the conversation (such as it was) not only died, but is buried and slimy with three months worth of rot! Asking questions of 'so... sup' does NOT constitute having 'anything in common', and that, dear idiots, is REQUIRED for a conversation to even OCCUR.

For petes sake.

Oh, and talking about sex doesn't count. 'yeah, so, I just finished wanking' no. Just... no. Please. DON'T GO THERE. If you are confused, go back to the hint, and read it over. Again. And again. And again. Until you get the hint!

Second complaint: COMMUNICATION.

If you send me an email, and I reply to it. You reply again, and without waiting for me to send one BACK to you, you call me? DONT. For petes sake, what was wrong with the medium being used? It was a way of talking that didn't invade, like a phone call does. I use my phone, pretty much, for emergencies only. What if my mother got into a car accident, had both her legs and her back broken and was unconsious, and the doctors needed the next of kin to come down and give a medical history because she was sort of OUT OF IT, but they couldn't get through because I was stuck talking to some dipstick I didn't like, giving monosyllabic answers until he took the hint and left? For pete's sake people. Pick a medium of communication and STICK WITH IT.

Another thing, if you communicate with someone via a somewhat less than reliable source ie. by writing a comment on my blog to me (I read all of them by the way, as I have to verify and allow them to be posted) do be a dear and CHECK BACK ON IT. Odds are if it is TO me specifically, rather than just a thingy comment, then I WILL reply to it, on my blog. Right below your comment. Asking when something happens is all very well and good, but it doesn't help YOU much if you never look back to see what my answer was!

Gyah!


Third thing: Teasing.

Odds are, if you are reading this then you know me. You know that I have issues with insomnia, and even if you -don't- know of this blog, then you will know of the insomnia anyways! So, with this reminder, do not, please, do NOT call me lazy because I got up at 9.30 in the fricking morning. Odds are I'll have gotten to sleep at FOUR. Who's the lazy one now? You going to bed at 10.30pm and getting up at six. Oohhh... you had to get up at six after a whole EIGHT HOURS SLEEP. I have just gotten FIVE and you call ME lazy?

Oh for pete's sake.

Another thing. I have an eating problem. In the sense that I don't. I eat perhaps ONCE a day. Maybe. And that relies heavily on how much I've drunk (juice, or especially milk) in that day as to whether or not I get hungry. If I am not hungry, I do not eat. End of story. "oh you need to eat more" dickhead. LOOK AT ME. I am NOT the thinnest twig in the forest, OBVIOUSLY I eat TOO MUCH. So do NOT for the love of god, tease me about it, or call me up on it. Ever.

Mother dearest snarling at me every time I opened the fridge from when I was ...god I don't know, 13? with a two year break while she and my father separated, until I had to move in with her to finish schooling. So, from three years ago, CONSTANTLY growled at for going to the fridge to get something to eat puts a damper on your appatite. Not having time in the morning to make yourself breakfast, nor lunch while -at- school reduces on your -need- to eat. So you want to call me up on not eating? Go jump off a bridge. Dickhead.

'Teasing' does not mean being crude, making blunt sexual references for metaphores that are perfectly acceptable as the G-8 rating! Seriously people, there is no need to be crass!

Fourth: Friendly vs Social vs Easy.

I am a FRIENDLY person. Not social. And most certainly NOT easy.

You tell someone that you are friendly, and they automatically assume that you will spend every waking minute of every hour of every day with them, or if not with them, with other people out in crowds doing things. This is not always the case! You do such, if you are a -social- person. I am not. I dislike people, intensely, and I -loathe- crowds.

I am friendly. Which is to say I'll talk to almost anyone, get a smile, or a laugh, or even a strange look before they start murmuring about having to stand elsewhere, but I also like my 'alone time'. I would rather curl up somewhere with a book, or a sketch pad and pencil, than go out and -have- to talk to people that I don't like.

You try to explain this to people, and they assume that 'alone time' means something else entirely, and that they can quite easily invade your alone time with their alone time for some 'together' alone time. Thus 'friendly' equates to 'easy' or 'social'.

It is NOT the case. I'm probably complaining to no one, of no one in particular, but I just have to get this out there.

Friendly =\= an easy lay
Friendly =\= a social butterfly
Friendly =\= desperate for attention
Friendly =\= malleable to molding
Friendly =\= anything other than just being FRIENDLY.
Friendly = being polite, listening, smiling, giving someone your attention until such a time as other things occur. This does NOT mean that you need complete and utter devotion from another, this does NOT mean that you need to -give- said complete and utter devotion to someone else.

And no, being friendly but not social is NOT a deficiency! It does -not- need to be 'fixed'. If you cannot wrap your head around this, I repeat myself from before, GO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE.

Fifth, Staring:

Okay, I know eyes wander, it's what they DO. But please, please, PLEASE, for the love of god, do not STARE. Sure, look, but don't make it OBVIOUS. For petes sake, have a sense of decorum and SUBTLETY. Godamn, you'd think that sort of thing would be, you know, COMMON SENSE.

Sixth, Art 'critiques':

If I ask for your opinion on something that I've drawn, PLEASE give me an honest one. If you hate it, say so, but please be able to tell me WHY as well, so that I can improve. More than 'oh I don't like it because that nose is too big' or 'I don't like the way you drew that there'. If you don't like the subject matter, SAY SO, if you don't like the colours used, SAY SO, if you don't like the proportions, SAY SO. Point it out to me, so that I can get better. Give and take people, I want to get better, but to my eye, my drawing isn't getting any better, but according to others I am growing by leaps and bounds. To me, it still sucks, so I'm not that good a judge of my own work. That's why I ask!

But please, PLEASE, if I ask for your opinion, and you say "I don't have one until you draw such and such for me" I am liable to scream. I DON'T want to draw what YOU want me to draw. You want a picture of pinocchio stuck in whatisface's blowhole? DRAW IT YOURSELF. Or pay me to, which will give me your opinion on my art regardless. I mean dude, if you're willing to pay for my shit, you must like it, so why couldn't you just SAY SO.

Dickhead.

I think that covers everything that is snapping at me lately, and making me snarl. I sure as hell hope so.

~ShaedowDancer~

Wednesday, 10 June 2009

Melancholy and loneliness

You know what sucks? When you are lonely for a specific person, or type of person, or something, but the only people around you that offer you company are needy, clinging, and you have to watch every other word with them?

What sucks even worse is when you find that people you think you would get along really well with, and would mesh well with, they up and vanish without a word as to why. Which makes you think back -- hey, this has happened before -- and since. So you miss the folk that leave, while giving a reason, but those that vanish without a word make you cry and think -- Did I do something wrong? What happened? Did something bad happened? Or did they just get bored and leave? -- and then the clingy people ask why you are sad, so you say, and then they get offended and sulky themselves because you don't care enough about -them- to cry over them, and neither can they help to brighten your mood.

*sighs*

Before this, I was feeling like an object, just ... something to be stared at. Which was what was happening. Alot. And -obviously-. Ick.

Now I feel unwanted. But due to objecthood, I want to feel cherished, wanted as a -person- not as a thing. *sighs*

And I've got my first exam tomorrow, another two next week. Great time for emotional/mental crisis! I have the best timing ever. -_- Not.

~ShaedowDancer~