I got this quiz from lumenatrix's site. It is here:
http://mindmedia.com/braintest.html
The results make sense to me--kind of. I am not surprised that I would be a lot more auditory than visual, and a lot more left brain than right. However, I guess that also confuses me a little. I am very VERBAL (Scramble, anyone? Pleeeease?), and rather logical, and I like for things to make sense. My high school English teacher used to call me "the voice of reason." But I am certainly not extremely efficient, or logical to the extreme. I have very strong emotions. I am not very structured or well-organized, either. I agree that I am a detail-oriented person and it's probably true that I am understated in thinking of my own abilities (I hope). The thing about tight schedules and enviable organizational skills making me a great team asset-- definitely NOT true. I am not sure how the visual/auditory thing was measured but I would say in a heartbeat that I am pretty unobservant visually and terribly bad at mechanical/spatial relations, and that (on the other hand) music is the most important art form to me (surprise surprise) and that I can't live without it.
Can it be true that I am both reasonable and extremely emotional? Both those things seem true to me, of me. Well, this gives me a chance to spout one of my maxims, which is that in my experience, the most rational people are usually the ones who are the most in touch with their emotions, rather than the ones who believe they are acting purely logically and rationally and without the influence of emotion. I secretly (now, not so secretly) think those people are often the most irrational of all.
Your Brain Usage Profile:
Auditory : 62%
Visual : 37%
Left : 77%
Right : 22%
Sarah, your results indicate a strong left-hemisphere dominance with a mild preference for auditory processing. This blend would suggest that you are an extremely efficient person, logical perhaps to an extreme. You tend to structure your life and learning in very precise ways.
You benefit from experience, seek the rational in situations and feel most comfortable with routine.
You are a detail person. You see each piece of a puzzle or situation with equal clarity and value, and thrive on your ability to fit each piece into a unifying structure.
Your learning style tends toward the auditory, which suggests that you process inputs sequentially and classify each before moving on to the next. You do, however, possess sufficient visualization skills and interest to supplement the auditory tendency and render you more active than a person who is purely auditory.
In all likelihood you will be somewhat reserved in appreciating your own talents and understate your abilities even to yourself. You will organize your time and set schedules for yourself and, in that sense, lose sight of spontaneity and other needs - both of yourself and others. Your enviable organization, structure, and efficiency make you a valuable asset to a team effort.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The last few days, part 2
After my first all-day class in psychotherapy as a career option, I took BART from downtown SF to the Lake Merritt station and walked to the Oakland Museum to see Mark's KISS band in the Best of the East Bay celebration. Now I realize this sounds like nothing to those more directionally gifted among you, but I was worried about: getting on the wrong BART train; getting off at the wrong stop; and not being able to find the Oakland Museum. But none of it came true. It was one of the most competent days I've had of taking public transportation around the Bay area, given I also bussed it to the class downtown. I felt environmentally responsible and directionally sophisticated.
Mark and I had the happy experience of getting to hang out for a little while in the outdoor backstage area with Krist Novoselic, the bass player from Nirvana-- now playing bass with the band Flipper, who were the headliners at the East Bay party. He was such a kind, intelligent man, not to mention hilarious. One of the coolest parts of this experience was that rather than us tiptoeing up to him as someone whose work we admired, he approached us in an open, very friendly way to praise Destroyer's performance and tell them how well he'd thought it had gone. Knowing us, even if we'd been able to figure out who he was, we would not have gone over to fawn and swoon, I'm sure (at least I wouldn't have) because of fear of seeming obnoxious. It was very cool that he was so inviting and friendly and wanting to chat. Mark did have an opportunity to mention that it was an honor to meet him, and he was completely gracious in response. We actually had an extended chat with him, so I have to upgrade this from a "meet" or an "encounter" to a "hang out," if I may be so bold.
He had been very amused by the fact that during soundcheck, Mark's band happened to pick "Christine Sixteen" to play, at the same time as a group of prepubescent girls were doing all these acrobatic maneuvers on the lawn right in front of them. Now, don't think he had a dirty mind: the lyrics to "Christine Sixteen" are disgusting and it was impossible to watch the young girls flouncing around without being totally amazed at Destroyer's either A)chutzpah or B)shocking obliviousness. I was thinking the same thing and wondering whose idea it was. Krist Novoselic was apparently a big KISS fan when he was a boy and when we talked with him backstage he enjoyed discussing his favorite humorously filthy lyrics by KISS and also AC/DC. But we also discussed our upcoming hopes for the election of Barack Obama and the scary yet not hopeless conditions of things in our world today, and so don't think the whole conversation was lewd and lascivious.
I enjoyed being out again at night, mostly, I think. Some of the event staff gave me the job of turning women away from the ladies' room while Mark's band changed into costume in there, and that was a bit stressful for me. You can imagine how badly the ladies want to get into the ladies' room at a concert, and while I was saying, "Sorry, a KISS band is changing in there," they had a really hard time accepting their rejection gracefully. One lady demanded to know why the KISS band wasn't changing in the men's room, and my answer--that the mirrors weren't big enough--made her sorely disgruntled. Then Jonathan told me I ought to be saying, "The toilets are broken," instead of making every single woman at the concert angry at the KISS band, and that did seem to be a more effective strategy, despite it being a lie, which makes me uncomfortable in general(being a terrible liar).
I was amused by hearing one of the ladies I had turned away telling her peers in a whisper, when Destroyer took the stage: "You wouldn't believe it, but they're all actually women."
I always feel a little nervous before one of Mark's performances, anyway, and there were some things that went wrong that set the band themselves on edge-- such as Jonathan's last minute wig panic (no wig--a very serious problem when you're supposed to be Paul Stanley). Jonathan ended up having to wear Mike's wig (the drummer), so he was wigless as Peter Criss. Then, it seemed like there were a few technical difficulties at the show, such as Stone's having trouble lighting his fireball and Mark's smoke bombs falling off the gum on his guitar. And because they started late, searching for Jonathan's wig, they were made to stop their set before they got to play "Rock and Roll All Night." BUT, despite these problems, the show went really well and it was fun for me to observe, from the audience, how thoroughly the band won the crowd over, so that by the end they were screaming for one more song and audibly disappointed when it didn't happen. This band is just so much FUN, truly (not just because I'm biased).
There were a few minutes when I felt tired, and old, and not up to being a band wife anymore. But what a day I had! I was out all day at my class, from 10:30 to 5:30, then I went straight to Mark's show and didn't get home till after Daisy was in bed. (And did I mention that I hung out with Krist Novoselic backstage? Eh? EHHH?) This must be a first, I think, since Daisy's birth. I missed her, but it was exhilarating to have had such a day.
How strange to think that only a few short years ago, pre-Daisy, I used to stay out all night on a regular basis, sometimes till 5 AM. Things sure do change. Huh.
Mark and I had the happy experience of getting to hang out for a little while in the outdoor backstage area with Krist Novoselic, the bass player from Nirvana-- now playing bass with the band Flipper, who were the headliners at the East Bay party. He was such a kind, intelligent man, not to mention hilarious. One of the coolest parts of this experience was that rather than us tiptoeing up to him as someone whose work we admired, he approached us in an open, very friendly way to praise Destroyer's performance and tell them how well he'd thought it had gone. Knowing us, even if we'd been able to figure out who he was, we would not have gone over to fawn and swoon, I'm sure (at least I wouldn't have) because of fear of seeming obnoxious. It was very cool that he was so inviting and friendly and wanting to chat. Mark did have an opportunity to mention that it was an honor to meet him, and he was completely gracious in response. We actually had an extended chat with him, so I have to upgrade this from a "meet" or an "encounter" to a "hang out," if I may be so bold.
He had been very amused by the fact that during soundcheck, Mark's band happened to pick "Christine Sixteen" to play, at the same time as a group of prepubescent girls were doing all these acrobatic maneuvers on the lawn right in front of them. Now, don't think he had a dirty mind: the lyrics to "Christine Sixteen" are disgusting and it was impossible to watch the young girls flouncing around without being totally amazed at Destroyer's either A)chutzpah or B)shocking obliviousness. I was thinking the same thing and wondering whose idea it was. Krist Novoselic was apparently a big KISS fan when he was a boy and when we talked with him backstage he enjoyed discussing his favorite humorously filthy lyrics by KISS and also AC/DC. But we also discussed our upcoming hopes for the election of Barack Obama and the scary yet not hopeless conditions of things in our world today, and so don't think the whole conversation was lewd and lascivious.
I enjoyed being out again at night, mostly, I think. Some of the event staff gave me the job of turning women away from the ladies' room while Mark's band changed into costume in there, and that was a bit stressful for me. You can imagine how badly the ladies want to get into the ladies' room at a concert, and while I was saying, "Sorry, a KISS band is changing in there," they had a really hard time accepting their rejection gracefully. One lady demanded to know why the KISS band wasn't changing in the men's room, and my answer--that the mirrors weren't big enough--made her sorely disgruntled. Then Jonathan told me I ought to be saying, "The toilets are broken," instead of making every single woman at the concert angry at the KISS band, and that did seem to be a more effective strategy, despite it being a lie, which makes me uncomfortable in general(being a terrible liar).
I was amused by hearing one of the ladies I had turned away telling her peers in a whisper, when Destroyer took the stage: "You wouldn't believe it, but they're all actually women."
I always feel a little nervous before one of Mark's performances, anyway, and there were some things that went wrong that set the band themselves on edge-- such as Jonathan's last minute wig panic (no wig--a very serious problem when you're supposed to be Paul Stanley). Jonathan ended up having to wear Mike's wig (the drummer), so he was wigless as Peter Criss. Then, it seemed like there were a few technical difficulties at the show, such as Stone's having trouble lighting his fireball and Mark's smoke bombs falling off the gum on his guitar. And because they started late, searching for Jonathan's wig, they were made to stop their set before they got to play "Rock and Roll All Night." BUT, despite these problems, the show went really well and it was fun for me to observe, from the audience, how thoroughly the band won the crowd over, so that by the end they were screaming for one more song and audibly disappointed when it didn't happen. This band is just so much FUN, truly (not just because I'm biased).
There were a few minutes when I felt tired, and old, and not up to being a band wife anymore. But what a day I had! I was out all day at my class, from 10:30 to 5:30, then I went straight to Mark's show and didn't get home till after Daisy was in bed. (And did I mention that I hung out with Krist Novoselic backstage? Eh? EHHH?) This must be a first, I think, since Daisy's birth. I missed her, but it was exhilarating to have had such a day.
How strange to think that only a few short years ago, pre-Daisy, I used to stay out all night on a regular basis, sometimes till 5 AM. Things sure do change. Huh.
Some exciting days, part I
I am feeling more upbeat about my future than I have in years, and this makes me a little apprehensive to write about it. I worry that trying to pin down exactly why I am more hopeful will fix the feeling down in mundane language and kill it, somehow. Nevertheless, I really do feel like saying something about the last couple days. I am two days into my three-day class on psychotherapy as a career option, and even though the class has been a flawed one from my perspective, I just feel re-energized, somehow, by the experience of being back in there in the flow and exchange of ideas, and re-awakened by the fear and anticipation of possibly going back to school and starting a new career. All my worst fears came true: we DID have to hold hands, and we chanted sayings at each other, and drew with our left hands, and meditated, and stood in a circle making spontaneous sounds and movements. Our teacher told us she has clients try to remember their own births. On the theory that we might not have been welcomed properly into the world, hence our psychological problems, we all held hands and welcomed each other. It was kind of nice, or it would have been, if I weren't so lame and always using irony to distance myself from heartfelt emotions. I can see that there's a big following for this kind of "right brain" activating exercise, and I honestly don't mean to denigrate it, but it's just not me. I have to believe there is room in the psychotherapy world for me and my more "left brain" ways--though I also think I can learn and improve my spectrum of responses by opening up to some of these new ways.
Despite the activities that just didn't fit me, I feel, overall, more hopeful about this career path than I did before. I met a few students in the class who are more like me, and even whose stories about how they got to this class are quite startlingly similar to mine. We went around the room telling our stories, and after I told mine, one woman spoke up, saying she really felt she should go next because hers was so uncannily like mine: she had gotten a history Ph.D., had a father who was a history Ph.D. who had had a great influence on her choices, had discovered that the academic life wasn't very comfortable for her, and now has a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter and is interested in possibly embarking on a career as a therapist... and this daughter has a flower name like mine. AND: we ordered the same lunch, two days in a row, without consulting one another.
The whole experience of going to the class has been so... re-orienting for me, so bringing of new energy. I have loved getting up in the morning and going downtown on the Geary bus to the building where my class is held, and mixing and milling with all the people downtown-- so different from my usual days out here in a quiet, less populated part of the city. I have loved listening to other people, and taking notes, and thinking and feeling unexpected things-- even the uncomfortable or critical thoughts I've had have been welcome, as getting my brain moving again. I've enjoyed the lunch breaks and imagining myself part of this energetic downtown workforce, as such a different kind of life than any I've experienced. I missed Daisy, but I've also greatly enjoyed the bus ride home at the end of the day to see her again.
This experience has convinced me that whatever I end up doing, I need to do SOMEthing different. I was vaguely aware of being a little depressed, even though I do adore my time with Daisy, but I now feel much more certain that I need time devoted to cultivating my own self, as separate from Daisy. It has just brought me so much energy and hopeful feeling, and I'm sure it will make me a better mother, too-- because when she's had a hard time, I haven't felt as frustrated with her or as despondent, because there's something else going on for me that lifts me up, instead of feeling like however Daisy's feeling on a particular day completely makes me or breaks me (if she has a crabby day, then I usually feel crabby because my entire sense of self-worth is invested in how I'm doing as a mother). When she was crabby these last few days, I didn't feel so entirely cast down by it, and although I wanted to help her feel better (of course), I still felt happy because of other things that are going on in my life right now. I wasn't crabby, in other words, just because she was crabby.
And now only one burning question remains to be resolved: what should I do with my left-handed pastel drawing? I will never be able to throw it out, since it is the emblem of my "rebirth." Maybe I'll hang it on the wall next to Daisy's fingerpaintings.
Despite the activities that just didn't fit me, I feel, overall, more hopeful about this career path than I did before. I met a few students in the class who are more like me, and even whose stories about how they got to this class are quite startlingly similar to mine. We went around the room telling our stories, and after I told mine, one woman spoke up, saying she really felt she should go next because hers was so uncannily like mine: she had gotten a history Ph.D., had a father who was a history Ph.D. who had had a great influence on her choices, had discovered that the academic life wasn't very comfortable for her, and now has a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter and is interested in possibly embarking on a career as a therapist... and this daughter has a flower name like mine. AND: we ordered the same lunch, two days in a row, without consulting one another.
The whole experience of going to the class has been so... re-orienting for me, so bringing of new energy. I have loved getting up in the morning and going downtown on the Geary bus to the building where my class is held, and mixing and milling with all the people downtown-- so different from my usual days out here in a quiet, less populated part of the city. I have loved listening to other people, and taking notes, and thinking and feeling unexpected things-- even the uncomfortable or critical thoughts I've had have been welcome, as getting my brain moving again. I've enjoyed the lunch breaks and imagining myself part of this energetic downtown workforce, as such a different kind of life than any I've experienced. I missed Daisy, but I've also greatly enjoyed the bus ride home at the end of the day to see her again.
This experience has convinced me that whatever I end up doing, I need to do SOMEthing different. I was vaguely aware of being a little depressed, even though I do adore my time with Daisy, but I now feel much more certain that I need time devoted to cultivating my own self, as separate from Daisy. It has just brought me so much energy and hopeful feeling, and I'm sure it will make me a better mother, too-- because when she's had a hard time, I haven't felt as frustrated with her or as despondent, because there's something else going on for me that lifts me up, instead of feeling like however Daisy's feeling on a particular day completely makes me or breaks me (if she has a crabby day, then I usually feel crabby because my entire sense of self-worth is invested in how I'm doing as a mother). When she was crabby these last few days, I didn't feel so entirely cast down by it, and although I wanted to help her feel better (of course), I still felt happy because of other things that are going on in my life right now. I wasn't crabby, in other words, just because she was crabby.
And now only one burning question remains to be resolved: what should I do with my left-handed pastel drawing? I will never be able to throw it out, since it is the emblem of my "rebirth." Maybe I'll hang it on the wall next to Daisy's fingerpaintings.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Trying something
Well, after talking about it for many months (years?), I finally signed up for a course-- a 3-day workshop through Berkeley Extension on career options in counseling and psychotherapy. Have no idea what to expect. Am terrified by the thought of day-long sessions in which I will probably have to do major soul-searching and talk to strangers intimately. Want to recoil within myself just describing it to you. I hope we don't have to hold hands. Mine are just way too sweaty.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Students
I am constantly thinking of changing careers. I could write many paragraphs about this, but since I have a ton of grading to do tonight (final grading) I'll try to sum it up briefly: I care very much about my students, but I struggle with a lot of feelings of inadequacy and just plain discomfort in my role as a teacher, particularly as it relates to the performative aspects... getting up in front of them day after day to try to be brilliantly illuminating while simultaneously hilarious and captivating, and all on the subjective, elusive subject of "good college writing."
Anyway. I am always thinking of changing careers. And then the end of the semester comes, and no matter how many times it's happened before, I am surprised and touched by the reactions of my students. Several of them wanted to take a picture with me, many of them told me they'd miss me and the class, and I got quite a few sweet and moving emails from them. And today I found out one of my students won an honorable mention in USF's student writing contest, for a paper she wrote for my class-- not a small feat, considering she's a freshman in a required writing class and the contest is open to all students at USF, including seniors writing for classes in their majors.
So I am currently feeling warmly disposed, both toward my individual students and toward the profession. It's just that I know I can't keep going the way I have been, can I? As a perpetual adjunct? It's worked for me so far, because for a time I was working on my dissertation and teaching part-time, and now I am being a mother and teaching part-time; so part-time seems okay, at the moment. But I always feel like I need to show my commitment to the career by applying for full-time work, or else move on to something else...and I just don't know what to do, for all kinds of reasons.
Anyway. I am always thinking of changing careers. And then the end of the semester comes, and no matter how many times it's happened before, I am surprised and touched by the reactions of my students. Several of them wanted to take a picture with me, many of them told me they'd miss me and the class, and I got quite a few sweet and moving emails from them. And today I found out one of my students won an honorable mention in USF's student writing contest, for a paper she wrote for my class-- not a small feat, considering she's a freshman in a required writing class and the contest is open to all students at USF, including seniors writing for classes in their majors.
So I am currently feeling warmly disposed, both toward my individual students and toward the profession. It's just that I know I can't keep going the way I have been, can I? As a perpetual adjunct? It's worked for me so far, because for a time I was working on my dissertation and teaching part-time, and now I am being a mother and teaching part-time; so part-time seems okay, at the moment. But I always feel like I need to show my commitment to the career by applying for full-time work, or else move on to something else...and I just don't know what to do, for all kinds of reasons.
Monday, May 19, 2008
One thing you can say for motherhood
Whether it's currently more joyful or more frustrating, more ecstatically wonderful or more teeth-knashingly difficult, it never feels unimportant.
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