Group Projects and Why They Suck

So last week I wrote my blog about things that people do in class that piss me off. That seems to have left me with a serious case of bad karma.

That, or the fact that I laughed really hard at this exchange from “Saved By The Bell” the other day:

Mr. Belding: Who’s in charge of food?

Alan (the fat kid): I am, sir.

Zack: Who else would be?

Alan: Stop with the fat jokes or I’ll sit on you!

Zack: Ooo this is getting heavy.

Mr. Belding: What kind of food is your committee serving, Alan?

Alan: Chocolate fudge cake, strawberry shortcake, hot fudge sundae cake—

Zack: Man, you’re going to have to grease the door to get home, Alan.

Anyway, back to my point, my karma was not great.

The result of this was the one thing that I hate more than annoying people in class… group projects… with the annoying people in class.

I started out this week with a group project. And included in my group was my least favorite person from class. Ain’t that always the case?

Obviously I hated the group project for this reason alone but I hate group projects on principal.

First of all, I am clearly the smartest person any of us have ever met. Good. Glad we’re all agreed on that. Let me ask then, how is it fair to me to be put in a group with inferior minds?

It’s just cruel.

Not to them but to me. Let’s face it, for them, it’s basically like letting Albert Einstein do your fifth grade science fair project. It’s not even a challenge for him (or me, in this situation) but you’re going to get an “A” for doing nothing anyway.

In this case, I am the gift and the servant while you are the wrapping paper

What is a challenge is dumbing myself down to fit the level of my group. The worst is when someone in my group makes an inane comment that makes me whole heartedly agree with Obama’s birth control mandate and wish it had been in place about 20 years ago. Instead of rolling my eyes and laughing at the failure of America’s education system, I have to delicately find away to show that I appreciate the effort they are bringing to the group but that everyone would appreciate if they would put in a little less effort. And by, “less effort” I mean, “leave.”

If you think this sounds harsh… well… that probably means you were that person in group projects. Sorry to break it to you.

Sorry to break it to you #sorryimnotsorry 

I also take issue with the fact that my grade will in anyway depend on someone else and their abilities. If I do work that deserves an “A,” give me an “A.” If I do work that deserves an “F,” give me an—haha jk like that would ever happen. All I’m saying is I want a grade based on what I brought to the table. Not a grade based on what Jimmy (who comes to class high after not doing the reading) or Sally (who I can only assume was dropped on the head repeatedly as a child) bring to the table. Because, let’s get real, the only things they are bringing to the table are STD’s and a future of alcoholism and reality TV show appearances.

At least one of these people was in my group

Now, I know the reasons we do group projects. I know you’re expected to work as a “team player” in the business world. I get it and I appreciate it and I really don’t have an argument against that.

Other than the fact that anyone who has met me knows that I am destined for so much more than a job that requires group work.

Let’s face it, with my unlimited potential, I think we’ll all be surprised if I haven’t EGOT’ed by 25, won the Pulitzer and Nobel Peace Prize by 30, been elected president by 35, and been arrested for masterminding a billion-dollar ponzi scheme by 45.

And in none of those things will I need to use “teamwork.” At least, not until I bust out of prison with Squeaky Fromme and Martha Stewart but I think the three of us would get along just fine.

Best Friends for life! It's almost like we're part of a family...

KB's Top Five Ways To Piss Me Off: Class Edition

My time at school is rapidly coming to an end.

Thank the Lord because I’m so sick of reading countless pages of classics by Dickens, Stein, Thoreau and the like (#humblebrag). I’m also incredibly tired of slaving over analytical essays only to get them back with an “A” and a “great job” hastily scribbled on top (#humblebrag). I’m bored with lectures about the religious allegories in Moby Dick (#humblebrag) or the Cubist influence on Ezra Pound’s poetry (#humblebrag).

But mostly what I’m sick of is you, person sitting near me in class. (#notkidding #ihateyou)

Because I’ve spent the last few weeks of classes contemplating how to kill that person while making it look like an accident, I’ve decided to vent my frustrations in yet another installment of KB’s Top Five Ways to Piss Me Off.

5. Bringing Food to Class

I’m going to be honest, you guys. I don’t understand the draw of eating food in class. I’m never more self-conscious than when I’m eating. Am I crunching too loud? Do I have food in my teeth? Am I swallowing really loudly? What if I choke?

I can’t even imagine bringing my food neurosis into the classroom yet every day there is at least one person who brings a full five-course meal to class—complete with candles and a nice Chianti.

 How about some fava beans and a nice chianti?

Most of the time, the food is either super noisy (it’s déjà vu all over again) or very smelly. Yesterday, the girl in front of me was eating an orange which basically made the whole room smell like someone was disinfecting the place while the other day someone was eating Cheez-its and sent that terrible burned-cheese smell wafting all over the room. I just don’t get it. Our classes are 1 hour and 15 minutes long. Can you really not wait until after class? Are you really that hungry? No. I can tell you right now that you will survive an hour of hunger. It’s not like you live in Africa or something.

4. Sitting in Front

I know I could bitch about the people who sit in the back of class just as easily but I’ve always had a problem with suck-ups more than slackers. If you sit in the front row of seats, I already know you are the antithesis of me and have already decided to hate you. See, by your sitting up front, I know that you will be the type of person who makes comment after comment and laughs at every single stupid little joke the professor makes. I also like to flatter myself in thinking that the professor can see right through this act and that they loathe you and your over-eagerness as much as I do.

As a matter of fact, yesterday, my class was held outside and one such person was so excited she could barely contain herself. Seriously, it was like a puppy. I half expected her to chase a squirrel up a tree and then relieve herself in the grass. However, she was content merely waving in the most obvious manner possible to a passing friend while whipping out her Lisa Frank folder (no joke). Due to the ridiculousness of the situation, I couldn’t hold in my smirk. Those who know me well know EXACTLY which smirk I’m talking about: the “omg-look-at-this-idiot-then-check-out-my-evil-smirk” smirk. The teacher happened to catch both the wave and the smirk and I am convinced she smirked in return. That’s what you get, Front-Row-Sitter.

 This might be the exact folder the girl had

3. Pen Clicking

I (click) can’t (click) stand (click) when (click) you (click) click (click) your (click) pen. It makes me want to “click” your pen where the sun don’t shine. It is the most annoying sound in the world. I know I’m not the only person who feels this because with each “click” I see backs around the room straighten. Jaws clench. Eyes dart to the perpetrator. Loud sighs or scoffs. Yet the pen clicker is a special breed of person who has no awareness of anyone around them and continues clicking their pen in peace. And I (click) continue to (click) premeditate (click) murder.

 Seriously, Brad. Cut it out.

2. Going to the Bathroom

I would like to preface this statement by saying that I know there are emergencies and that is not the situation I’m talking about here. Remember when we all got to college and realized with wonder that we no longer had to raise our hands or get a hall pass to use the restroom? You could just stand up whenever you felt like and go with no excuses and with no permission. Yes, truly, this was freedom.

 This is what freedom from bathroom tyranny feels like

Since the first few weeks however, the novelty has worn off. Now that I’m a few months away from graduating, one of the last things I feel like doing is waking up from my nap in class long enough to get up, fight my way through the aisles, inevitably struggle to open the door before having it slam shut at a surprisingly loud decibel level, and head to the bathroom. Like I said, class isn’t that long. I can wait. Unfortunately, I’m one of the few people who seems to feel this way because my classes have become something of a duck-duck-goose game where someone is always running around or sitting down or standing up. Honestly, it’s disrespectful to the professor and disrespectful of those of us who are trying to get into a REM cycle.

1. Taking Diligent Notes

I do know that some classes require you to take notes. Trust me, I have a chemistry major for a roommate, I get it. She has countless notebooks filled with nifty little diagrams and equations and formulas. Or, so she tells me. I’m not convinced they aren’t just doodles like the ones that fill pages of my notebooks. I don’t have a problem with notes like that.

 Not actually my doodles but I appreciate the dragon.

What I do have a problem with is people writing down every word that falls out of the professor’s mouth. 5% of my tests are being able to identify an author and title of a work by reading a few sentences of it. The other 95% is managing to bull sh!t some barely coherent response to said work that is just vague enough to seem deep and insightful. Neither of those things are helped by you writing down the fact that Ezra Pound broke a chair in Gertrude Stein’s house in Paris (which he did) or that the last thing Herman Melville was working on before he died was Billy Budd, Sailor (which it was). That stuff simply isn’t important unless you are a contestant on Jeopardy. Let’s be honest, I’ve definitely thought about it ("What is, Melville sucks, Alex?"). But unless you are training for a game show, there is no reason for you to write it down. So… STOP IT.

And with that, Friends, we’ve reached the end of another installment of KB’s Top Five Ways to Piss Me Off. And, as always, I’m left feeling angry with the never-ending stupidity of people, sadness that I must live among such people, and frustration that there are so many more things I want to complain about.

Spring Break

I’m on spring break. And as such, I’m taking a spring break break from writing a blog. The weather is much too nice and I have much too much reading to do. I spent my day outside reading and am happy to say I have my first minor sunburn of the year. I also took a long nap followed by a long drive followed by taking my car through a carwash. I’m not trying to give you a minute-by-minute rundown of my life but I feel like I should at least offer up some excuses as to why I didn’t get around to “thinking for you” this week.

But let’s be honest, I just completely forgot to write one. Whoops.

So, until next week, I recommend you check out this blast from the past blog:

The Truth Behind El Excellente Dora the Explorer

Lessons You Can Learn from My Friendship

I’d like to start out this blog with the statement that I personally like you, reader, very much.

There are very few people that I genuinely like in this world. We’re talking single digits. (Remember, I just said that you’re one of them!)

Luckily for me, one of my all time favorite people is currently here in New York. Not to be overly sentimental but I’ve learned quite a few things while with this person. In my never ending quest to keep you all well informed and ease the mind-numbing boredom that makes up your everyday life, I’ve decided to recount some of the most important lessons I’ve learned with her.

1) Apples are delicious. Some things should not be eaten with apples.

Once upon a time there were two girls bored at work with nothing on hand other than some apple slices and various condiments. One thing led to another and I can now say I’ve eaten apples in barbeque sauce, ketchup, ranch dressing, Coca-Cola and various mixtures made of the four. Unless you want to vomit, do not attempt.

Don't mix your drinks. Or your apples and dips for that matter. 

2) Funyons are good in your mouth. Not in your nose.

Once upon a time there were two girls bored at work with nothing on hand other than a bag of Funyons. After discussing the pre-teen phenomenon of snorting Smarties candy, we decided to try what we had on hand. After pulverizing the Funyons with our dirty hands on an even dirtier counter at the pool, we proceeded to inhale Funyons. Let me tell you, those little devils are sharp. It was painful. All in all, not one of our better ideas.

 For oral ingestion only

3) Take time to enjoy the view. And get out of work in the process.

The afore mentioned friend and myself used to be in swim team together. We both enjoyed swimming and we both enjoyed the coach. That being said, there is a limited amount of laps one can swim before one contemplates dousing the coach’s car in gasoline and striking a match. To maintain our sanity, we would take a mandatory break every evening to “watch the sun set behind the capital” (aka take a break). So when you want to get out of doing something unpleasant, become really engrossed with something in nature and you’ll be home free. Oh are you trying to tell me that won’t work? Sorry, can’t hear you. I’m looking at the cutest little squirrel!

 How can you expect me to swim when I'm watching this?

4) Take care of your sick child. Don’t bring them to swimming lessons.

Yep. There was only one other witness to the birth of THE LEGEND OF POOPY FEET. And it was this friend. No words can describe the pain, shock, confusion, and repulsion that came from this event. My therapist is still trying to help me work through this. Lesson learned? If your child has explosive diarrhea, don’t bring it to swimming lessons. If you do bring your child and it shits in the pool, at least offer an apology or act like you feel slightly embarrassed or something.

Don't be this woman

5) Don’t get mad. Get even.

This past summer on a trip, I pulled a harmless prank on my friend. While she was in a really sketchy gas station that happened to be the only building in a 50-mile radius with really sketchy cowboys inside, I drove a little ways off and hid myself and the car from her. I let her panic for a couple minutes before I drove back into sight. Rather than getting upset, she took a candy bar and smeared it all over the driver’s side of the windshield. Touche.

 Not quite as delicious when it's smeared on your car

And finally,

6) Figure out what your friend hates. And then use it against them.

Remember Tegan and Sara? My friend is not a fan. Not a fan at all. She does not like their voices. She does not like their songs. She does not like their girl-mullets. She does not like the fact that they are Canadian. Or Twins. Or… Indie Rockers (bet that’s not what you thought I was going to say). So what I like to do, just to let her know I care, is put Tegan and Sara on in the car. Or make her watch their movie. Or make countless references with another friend (ENCIRCLE ME). Basically, the best way to let your friend know that you care about them is to constantly degrade them and disregard their wishes.

 What's not to love?

I hope you all have learned some lessons from this. Take it from me, some of these are not life lessons you want to learn on your own.

Oh and also, happy birthday to one of my acquaintances this Friday. Her name is Raeann. Or something like that. Not sure. We’re not close.

And as for my other friend whose actual birthday is today, I know you are way too hipster and non-conformist to enjoy people wishing you a happy birthday. But just remember, your youth is fading, old age is just around the bend. What's that sound? Hmm I believe that's sound of settling.