beancounters

One paper down,

one to go! The quantitative paper due tomorrow is in its SASE, ready to be turned in. I'm thinking of driving it down today, as tomorrow I must be on the road very early.

Question 1 on the next paper: a) how do you negotiate with a pro-choice group that, at the last minute, wants to put on a campus counter-demonstration on the same day as an already-approved pro-life group? b) how do you use the deliberative process with the pro-choice group under the same circumstances?

Here, I am deeply grateful that everybody told me to take copious notes in this class. I just went through them; everything I need is already there.

The moving crayon writes

Last night, I gave my presentation in Quantitative class. It's a synopsis of my final paper, which is nearly done and due next Monday. I was very pleased. The topic was local education foundations and the people who most likely to approve of them. The other students hadn't heard of LEFs before, and had a lot of questions for me.

My daughter had tried to help me format the presentation in Powerpoint, but her tastes are very different from mine. I opted for a tasteful white background with green accents. "You mean you want every slide to look exactly alike?!" she cried in disbelief. In the end, when I refused to add things like moving crayons and cartoon mice, she threw her hands up in disgust and left me to my boring ol' slides.

(And then a fellow student did include moving crayons in his presentation! So distracting. I nearly laughed - was going to ask him afterwards if a particularly headstrong 9-year old had acted as consultant, but you know. That would have been amazingly rude.)

In my Quantative class, the story is getting around about how I was cornered last week by students from the other Quantative section. It seems those students were given more gratuitously difficult assignments by their professor. They were griping ferociously after class last Wednesday, when they spotted me, trying to gather the remains of the snacks I'd brought and leave as quietly as possible.

"Pam," said one, "you have the other Quantative class. Did you have to find your own data source, and do all that coding by hand?"

I eyeballed the door, realizing they were standing between me and freedom. I hedged. "Um, I believe we were allowed to, but he said it was okay to just use the pre-coded GSS survey that came with our class CD-ROM." I edged toward the door, trying to smile reassuringly. Nice Pam, Pam good, Pam brought cookies to class. Luckily, when they turned to each other to gripe some more, I was able to make my escape.

Geez, people, did you not just have this professor for two semesters of Economics? Surely you knew the kind of sadist professional you were dealing with.

Syllabus logic

Up & out of bed, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, and trying to think of something to write. I love this time of morning. Unless I want to write and can't think of anything to say. Then I delete whateverthiswas, and start the day feeling mentally constipated. Ecch.

Quantitative was last night. Half the class is presenting their final papers. I am in the group presenting next Monday. I feel good about it - I have all my stats and documentation - all beans have been counted.

My paper is more than halfway finished; it'll be done in time for the oral presentation. Suddenly last night, my professor told us he doesn't want the paper until finals week. Whoa, I am ahead! Dude! Sometimes, when you don't read the syllabus closely enough, life hands you happy surprises. But that's no excuse, because most of the time, when I forget to read the syllabus, life ain't that nice about it. Heh.

I spy the course catalog

Just looked at the class schedule for next fall and spring, and it does indeed look as if I am on track to graduate in June of '07.

I had my heart set on two higher ed courses, but only one is being offered for the indefinite future. So there's that one, plus either an elective in collaborative policy-making, or California land use. Sounds like an odd set of choices, doesn't it?

Then in spring is my postponed second semester of public management and the "culminating project". What will my culminating project be? Right now, your guess is as good as mine! I have much to discuss with the powers that be in the next month or two.

At the drop of a hat

Shh. I'm so totally playing hookey from work today, so I can come to campus and use their programs to finish a stats project or two.

Thought I'd have to go to the library and muscle a couple of underclassmen for the privilege of using one of the library computers. Can you picture me? Move it Skippy - you can look at pornographic tattoos on Myspace anytime - I am on a deadline here!

But fortunately I came to a remote computer lab to check availability. And it's blissfully empty. Joy!

BB, if you're reading this, I'm sorry I got so cranky about missing papers this morning. They're totally replacable. And hell's bells, I might have moved them myself. As you always say, between the two of us, we have one working brain. :-) Give me a call. xx oo

We have the next five days programmed to within an inch of our lives. If we get through still talking to one another, it'll be a miracle.

Getting to YO

Told the story of my daughter negotiating her bedtime in class last night, because lo! We are studying negotiating techniques! Thus ever does my life imitate ... well, my life.

The class thought it was a funny story, but I am pretty sure that at least two classmates were sitting there wishing that my daughter had showed up to class, instead of me. Because earlier that evening, we had broken out into groups to practice our negotiating techniques in a hypothetical exercise, and holy frejoles, my partner and I were the world's. worst. negotiators. I'm telling you. We approached the bargaining table like two used car salesmen. It was ugly.

We did everything you're not supposed to do. We hardballed them. We lied to them. We good cop/bad copped them. We promised them that if they let us build 120 condo units in their town with no more than 10% designated as affordable housing, we would (cringe) arrange for an underground light-rail station within a block of the buildings, and ... yes ... throw in trash service to the moon.

In all fairness, my used car-salesman partner inserted that last crap, not me, but the damage was done. Our credibility was shot. Or, maybe it was shot when we told them we couldn't compromise on the number of units, and then compromised in the next breath. Or when I got disgusted because I thought they were lying to us. The opponants looked more and more incredulous as the night wore on. "Did you even READ the book?" they exclaimed. They barely spoke to us when it was all done.

Which is kind of funny, in retrospect. Mwheh-heh.

I think my partner's problem is, he didn't take the exercise seriously at all. And my problem? Um, temporary insanity?

Here comes the rain again

Ugh! This weekend's wall-to-wall sunshine led me into a false sense of security. And tonight? Got utterly soaked on the way to class. We're talking sandals (yes, sandals!) squelching, denim jacket needing to be wrung out. *sigh*

Class is about to begin, and I smell like a wet dog. :-(

A week late & ...

- Spent a goodly chunk of last week working on one midterm and studying for another.

- Busted everybody's chops in this household, all weekend long, out of sheer malace over said midterms.

- Took the Quantitative midterm Monday.

- Played hookey this afternoon, put finishing touches on the other midterm, turned it in this evening.

Now? I'm ready for my Spring Break, please.

Hep cats, cruelly denied

Spring Break is next week, but not for us. Our Political Env. prof has handed out the take-home midterm already. Plus there'll be a midterm in Quantitative on the Monday we return! I mean, Good Lord! Do these professors have no respect for TRADITION?

Shoot, I can barely remember the last time I partied on Spring Break.

Kegger down at Goofball's tonite - pass it on

Forming an unsavory allegory

I'm done with my proposal, a scant three hours before class. And I tell ya. I pulled this paper out. of my. butt. Seriously. I had no earthly clue what this thing was going to be, even as late as 11 this morning. Suddenly inspiration struck, I visited that Berkeley website again, grabbed some crosstabbed data - two hours later, bingo, it's done.

But my question is, why couldn't this paper have come from my butt a few days ago? Why all this hunching, sweating and cursing in front of the computer all weekend?

Outlier

Pissy little thing yesterday, wasn't I?

Stayed home from work today so I can nurse this cold and also get my quantative policy paper in shape. Part of my problem is, I really don't know how to structure the paper. And two pages doesn't sound like a lot of work until you're staring chaos full in the face.

I should call my prof. Why the hell not? He works for me!

Ragged edge

So, I'm at my computer, some more, having a near panic attack due to writer's block. I HATE this prospectus assignment. Please understand, I am studying to be a policy analyst. But I intend to be the sort who gets mushy requests and turns them into brilliant analyses. Not the sort who sit around, in a think tank situation, just dreaming up shit to study. I want to be assigned things. I want parameters. I want to work for a team. I know that sounds juvenile but if you're looking for a pioneer in the field you've come to the wrong place.

Maybe it'd be easier to dream up shit to study if I had more adequate raw data than a student version of SPSS. If I'd've known how frustrating this piddly thing would be, I'd've sprung for the full version. Even the UC Berkeley online database is incomprehensible to me because you can't crosstab the thousands of factors just any ol' way you wish. At least I can't. I need help. I need a phone call. I feel a cold coming on, too. I could just cry.

On top of everything, BB put this on the record player: "Hard Day's Night" as styled by Henry Mancini! He came in, smiling, anticipating my reaction. I didn't disappoint. I complained that it was old fart music and I felt like I was in a time-warp, and not in a nice druggy way.

So he replaced it ... with Taco. Taco. Why do we even own a Taco LP? I sat here and stewed through most of the first song. Then I stormed out to the living room. "We are not gay men, and this is not 1984!" I screamed. He actually said he thought I'd like it. My God, it's as if we don't know each other at all. I threatened to walk out and set up at the school library if he didn't put on Vivaldi, pronto. Don't dick with an angry beancounter with a headcold.

studystudystudy

BB's away today, taking an employment exam. If I could live on what my daughter can cook - toast and microwaved hotdogs - I wouldn't have to enter the kitchen for the rest of the day. I wouldn't even have to leave this computer except for potty breaks. Tempting!

But no. Must get up and join the 3-D community for a few hours. Get some sun at the park, let Daisy burn off some calories from all those international dog biscuits.

Errands:

Staples - legal envelopes, paper (Gee, I wonder who's burning through all this paper?)

Post Office

Grocery store - anything but hotdogs

Then back to the desk.

Say, why aren't you people writing to me?  I mean, I have very little to blog about, but I'm at my computer, like, all the time. You're practically guaranteed a quick response if you comment.

Yet there's nothing to comment on. This is friggin' ironic.

Nature's repellant?

I have just a few minutes before I must throw on some work clothes, then make Bunny and myself some breakfast and pack our lunches. One thing I do love about this new job is simply its location: five minutes, literally, from my house. So when I drive my daughter to school, the whole trip is like fifteen minutes. Excellent!

So, I have a question. Do you think it's possible for one person to be repelled by another due to phermones?

I mean, phermones are credited for people falling in love at first sight. Couldn't it be possible that the opposite extreme happens?

No research went into the making of this blog post. Just tossin' it out there for consideration.

Statscounters

Sometimes two classes come together in such a way that you can sort of cruise through one while concentrating on the other. That's the way this semester is going. In Environment of Politics, we scan articles the prof assigns, then show up to class and let him lead us in Socratic discussions about past presidential administrations. The concepts I am absorbing take up a back room in my brain where they can do little harm until it's time to write a paper.

Meanwhile, I am concentrating heavily on Quantitative so I don't get behind. Also because statistics is kind of a gas. Who knew? Well, Meg knew. Wise Meg!

Life in the big school

Stupid. I didn't read the syllabus correctly, so I missed finishing an assignment due this evening for my quantitative policy class. To my surprise and delight, the prof gave me a few days to turn it in, but now I have two papers to finish in two days. ::erk::

This evening I experienced a mini-blast from the past. In Quantitative, we'll start statistical analyses next week. I'm one of the few students who's already seen what SPSS does.

And who do we credit for showing us how to use SPSS, good blogfolk? Who said we'd use all this at the Big School?

Meg Ryan, my old statistics teacher!

I know! Pick me!

Good morning. Last night I - whups coffee's done. Hang on.

Aaaah. How 'bout you? Got your morning drink nearby? Great. Anyway, class last night was funny. The prof is the same guy I had last year for Research Methods. He's the one who is very cheerful but jittery, like he's on a sugar high. Sharp but friendly. Loves to play with theories. And this class is one of the most theory-based of the program, so we should have a good time wallowing in the world of the hypothetical this year.

I was so happy to be there, I grabbed Savvy and made her sit up front with me. Then I made like Hermione all evening. Oy!

After class the prof and I spoke about my upcoming elective courses. I heard a rumor that one can go outside the policy school to find grad courses in one's discipline. I don't currently have any discipline, but I thought I should ask and cover my bases.  Otherwise my choices are land use planning and, well, land use planning.

The prof squinted and jingled and hmmmed. "You'd have to talk to me about that, Pam. It would depend on the courses, because some of them are of varying stringency levels, ah, academically, and I'd hate for you to ... "

I tried to finish his thought. "You'd hate for me to slide? Or to die?"

"Well, slide. I don't particularly care if you die!" He gave a jittery laugh. Excellent. My advisor, ladies and gentlemen. Doesn't care if I die.

Join me in an earworm?

Every time I sit down to try and read two articles for school about the Voting Rights Act of 1965, "Eve of Destruction" starts playing. Very good song, but distracting. So, I thought I'd share.

Exclamation points abound after procrastinating

See how complacent I've become the last few weeks - or perhaps how fixated I've become on trivial work issues?

I forgot that school starts next Monday.

Training class let out at 3:00 this afternoon. As I contemplated a pleasant few hours at home, spouseless and kidless, something in me clicked, and I thought instead that I'd wander over to the college and pick up my books and parking pass. You know. Nice and early. So I could read ahead before the first day of class.

But guess what I discovered when I got there? A veritable sea of dark green hoodies and flip-flops. Yes! Students are back on campus! Buying books and parking passes at the last minute!

Duh. Hate that. Also hated this: I had to replace my student body card, and endure being asked again if I was Student or Faculty. Student, thank you! You got a problem with the grey hair? That's it, you're grounded!

Semester marks

Grades are in for Fall 05, and I'm happy to say I did well. I got an A in Public Management, which I expected, and B+ in Research Methods, which was as good as I'd hoped after having bombed the first assignment.

I'm signed up for two classes in spring - Quantitative Methods (more stats - o joy) and a political environment course. The latter is taught by the research methods prof - a very together guy, though he initially comes across like he's on a permanent sugar high. Should be good.