Frats are like WWII

I realized that nothing I've posted thus far has been all that funny.  This is probably because we have yet to explore topics I feel passionate about.  Terms of endearment, future plans, and mission statements don't really whip me into a verbal frenzy.  When I am passionate about something, especially if I hate it, I'm freaking hilarious.  This is most easily seen when I'm being childish and throwing some sort of tantrum.  I end up ranting about whatever is most angering me and instead of seeding mob level hatred my rants leave people bent over laughing.  I'm sure some of the appeal is visual because I gesture emphatically and turn a little red but I bet the essence will come through in writing. All that being said, let's talk about frat boys. 

I really hate frat boys.  I hate Greek life in general, but at the core of my hatred is the all boy clubs.  I think part of it may be that the girls who ended up in sororities either were apathetic about the process and didn't change much as a result, or weren't the sort of girls I'd spend time with in the first place.  In contrast, the sorts of guys who pledged frats were some of my friends; and then they changed. 

Now is a good time to talk about the Milgram Experiment.  If you know exactly what I'm talking about you can skip this paragraph.  Double points if your mind was already heading in this direction reading the last paragraph.  The short dumb version (because if you really cared to know you'd open a new tab and wikipedia "milgram" right now): people couldn't believe the atrocities committed by Hitler's troops in WWII and they started to think maybe there was a flaw in German people that let them follow orders when normal people would say "that's some sick crap. I quit." Milgram let people think they were giving someone in the next room painful shocks.  Participants thought that through the luck of the draw they were the person giving instead of reciving the shocks, and they could hear the guy in the next room crying out in pain. (It's worth pointing out that the whole thing was a set up and the guy in the other room wasn't really being shocked.)  Consensus was that after going up a few levels on the shock'o'meter most people would decide that some wacky experiment about education wasn't a good enough reason to torture another human being and they'd walk out.  Not so.  Most people went up really far in the shock scale.  Some even maxed it out.  Conclusion: people kind of suck if you put them in an awkward enough situation.

You want more proof?  Go read about the Stanford Prison Experiment; it's pretty much like pledging except it's in a jail...wait, that essentially is pledging.  There are fewer girls.  There's the difference. Want even more proof people suck?  Read the From Jerusalem to Jericho study.

Now that you feel a lot like you did the first time you finished Catcher in the Rye, let's talk about frats.  Poeple don't do well without a common uniting goal, especially man people under 25.  You need the right sort of goal too.  Brotherhood? Not a good goal.  Win the hockey title? Not a good goal.  Review music? Not so bad. Write poems? Pretty decent. Learn math? Perfect. Math teams generally don't get in trouble for taping someone to the wall and leaving them there for days.  Or for having men line up naked and sing while doing jumping jacks after no having slept for more than 10 minute intervals all week.  You know why? Because they are focused.

Supposedly the army takes druggy loosers and turns them into upstanding responsible men.  Frats take socially awkward teens and takes a final swing at their self esteem before dressing them up in a uniform and a ritual that forces a certain kind of social interaction from which they may never deviate.  As far as I can tell, what boys learn in college can stay with them at least until their 50's. Maybe longer.  This is why I don't understand dating dramatically older men, unless it's for the money.  You can't bank on them being less messed up or more mature. 

Anyway, hazing, also known as brain washing, or conditioning, scares the poop out of me.  I don't understand paying for friendship or family as being any better or less pathetic than paying for sex.  And furthermore, there needs to be a common theme.  The frats which I least hate all have themes which draw a certain sort in and unite them: a music/theater frat, a geek frat.  Those things are not without issue as themes, but they are the best I've seen.

What's a Pseudo Problem?

You might be wondering what the title of this blog is about.

First off, it's a philosophical term.

Secondly, it sounds cool with my first name, which is Sarah.  "Sarah" starts with an s, "pseudo" has an s sound at the beginning, and "problem" starts with a p just like "pseudo" does.  Basically, I think it sounds and looks pretty.

If none of that convinced you it's a good name for a blog I guess I have to share the actual meaning.  In philosophy there is a theory that some questions really aren't questions at all.  While they grammatically might work as sentences, there meaning as a question isn't all there.  The questions sound right but are actually a result of misusing language. 

This term comes up when talking about the existence of god or free will.  At a really high level you can think of it like people arguing a moot point, or Inigo Montoya explaining that "inconceivable" doesn't mean what Vizzini thinks it does.

Sometimes I wonder if the topics I spend time thinking about are as important and interesting as I think they are, or if they are rediculous and I should be outside playing kick ball or something instead of staring blankly at the tv while comtimplating if casual sex is moral or not.

You Suck at Starbucks

I worked in a cafe that served Starbucks coffee for over a year.  Before that I was capable of ordering a caramel macchiato or a frap light without assistance.  Now I can tell you the difference between any menu drinks, how to customize it, etc.  I can basically turn the Starbucks menu into a simple wikipedia article for you.  More importantly, I can take your order Jeopardy style.  You come up to me looking confused and drooling ever so slightly.  I ask you simple questions until we narrow down what drink you're looking for.

Is it hot or cold? -cold
Does it have ice cubes or is it frothy like a milkshake? -umm...smooth?
Okay that's a frappuccio. 
Did it taste like coffee? -yes
Did it have whipped cream? -yes
Were there toppings on the whipped cream? -umm
Okay. Did it taste like chocolate? -yes
Did it taste like peppermint? -no
Cherries? -no

Okay that's a mocha frap.  It should have chocolate drizzle on the whipped cream.  If it doesn't, hand it back to whomever made it.  You can get it decaf, with or without whip, and with whatever level of sugar, chocolate, or type of milk you want.  PS mocha syrup is way worse for you than caramel, hazelnut, etc.

Sometimes I'd even go the extra mile; when you pick out the perfect bra at Victoria's Secret after 45 minutes of feeling lumpy and gross trying on every bra in the store and jumping up and down in it, they give you a card with the type of bra you purchased and the size.  That way, in 6 months when you need another one and you have forgotten everything you ever knew about bras, you can pull the card out of your wallet and save yourself an hour.  Sometimes, after going through 20 questions with the coffee impaired, I'd write them a little note on piece of receipt tape so they'd be able to go into any Starbucks store and order with confidence. 

But let's talk about how to order drinks at Starbucks more generally. 
Is the person taking your drink order standing ready to push register buttons or are they holding a marker in one hand and hovering their other over a stack of cups?

If they are in front of the register:
-Choose a type of beverage. (eg. latte, coffee, frap)
-Specify the flavoring (eg mocha latte, decaf sumatra coffee, caramel frap)
-Specify the size
-Hot or cold (except if you're ordering a frap it's gonna be cold and you have no choice)
*By this point the person should have stopped pushing buttons and picked up a cup.  If they haven't done that and aren't writing on the cup or making your drink; you have a 60% chance of not getting what you ordered.
-Special flavoring?
-Special milk preferences?
-Special toppings?
-Extra shot of espresso or decaf?
Yay! You've ordered.

If they are holding the marker and ready to pounce on the cups:
-Hot or cold beverage (you could say frap here)
-Size of beverage
-Type of beverage
-Special flavoring?
-Special milk preferences?
-Special toppings?
-Extra shot of espresso or decaf?
*If a different person rings you up and doesn't look at the cup first you've found the hole in the system; you can get away with telling them the size and beverage type but not the extras you ordered .  No one will know and Starbucks will loose money.  Yay!

Why the change in the first three steps?  The computer wants you to choose a category and a size before any extras.  The flavor sometimes determines the category.  A lot of your extras like topping and caffeine level may not go into the computer at all, and if you don't follow that order the server may stop listening to you and your requests won't make it onto the cup.  Similarly, if you are talking to someone who desperately wants to write out your cup to take your order, they need to know what size cup and if it needs a hot or cold cup before they can write anything down.

If you follow these steps not only are you likely to get the worker to write down your order correctly, but they may start to suspect you're an employee or a secret shopper and they will be more careful in making your drink.  Maybe someday I will tell you even more about how not to suck at Starbucks.

No One Likes Taub

Word of the day: Probity-complete honesty and integrity
Word of the day in a sentence: Many women say they're looking for a man with probity but then many of them end up with men like Taub and no one likes Taub.

For someone who can't spell and talks too fast I have a great love for big words.  I have a box of GRE exam words left over from the two times I took the GREs.  I take one word from the front of the box every weekday.  I read it, place it on top of the box, and consider potentially using it in a sentence.  At the end of the day I put the word in the back of the box.  There are over 500 words in the box so this process could continue for years before it seems repetitive.  If I'm feeling more playful in my vocabulary education I go to freerice.com instead of wasting time on here or on facebook.  Free Rice makes you feel good in a very Stuff White People Like way because you're learning pretentious things while also donating to charity.  Additionally, neither activity requires the commitment or effort you'd think it would.

Let's go back to Taub.  No one likes him. I know I said that but it's worth saying again. If you don't kow who Taub is, he's the short Jewish cheating ass hat of a plastic surgeon on House.  I like him best when he's throwing paint balls at a picture of himself, ending his marriage, or telling us how he was suicidal in college.  This is because these are the times he seems to most understand that he sucks as a person. Taub's wife never seems to realize he sucks as a person.  I'm not sure why.  He cheats, and for me that would be enough to want to castrate him, but for some women I know it isn't.  Usually women who stick with cheaters are focusing on some other characteristics of the man or their relationship which make it seem worthwhile.  In Taub's case I don't know what those would be.  There are no kids to stay together for, he isn't attentive or romantic, he doesn't make that much money, he isn't attractive by any standard, he isn't generous or honest, and I can't imagine he's good in bed. 

I was talking about this with Boyfriend last night.  Boyfriend doesn't watch House but he watched three whole episodes with me the other night. He even remembered which one Taub was.  His theory is that women don't have a lot of self esteem sometimes and so they stick with whatever man they happen to be with.  This is probably true but I have a hard time with it.  Once upon a time I was in a messy situation and I watched this girl go back to this guy we both knew was a lying scumbag.  Why did she do that?  I did some soul searching and chose to shun his existence like the Amish do.  If I could have arranged for his untimely demise so that I could be sure he wasn't out hurting other women I would have.  And yet she wanted to be with him?  Not only that, she spoke with me on the phone and asked that I be friends with him.  I think not.

It's people like that who deserve to be called two dimensional.  They are basically doormats.  They let people walk all over them and when something goes wrong instead of flexing their personality and shaping the situation to best suit themselves, they contort themselves and their needs to fit the situation.  If you do that enough you'll squeeze your personality until you're a boring sack of self doubt, totally generic. 

This post was a lot meaner than I thought it would be when I set out to share a vocab word.  But I'm just trying to share what's on my mind, to keep up a certain level of probity.

Why I call Boyfriend "Boyfriend"

I'm not going to give you the nitty gritty details of my personal life. I don't even post my location as part of my aim away status or use foursquare.

So instead of telling you how I'm a button pusher at Buttons for Buttons Inc. or whatever I'm going to talk about "job" and what I do at "job." Likewise I'm going to tell you how I live in Suburbia which is only 15 minutes to a half hour outside of The City. I live with Roommate and I'm dating Boyfriend. We might even get into Best Friend later.

Interestingly though, in real life I call Boyfriend "Boyfriend." I have noticed that Allie does this too, but I am not doing it to be like her. I actually wonder if she's doing it for the same reason I am: Gilmore Girls. On Gilmore Girls Rory had these two friends near the end of college. They were artsy and eccentric and when one of them started dating Marty she just called him Boyfriend to her friends and to his face which actually caused great issue because Rory didn't know Boyfriend was Marty and it was awkward when they met because they used to be friends and he liked her.

Why I've adopted a custom that lead to tv drama I couldn't tell you except to say that I'm not such a fan of normal terms of endearment. I'm not going to call Boyfriend honey, babe, dear, shnookums, or any of that. I might actually call him something like peanut, pumpkin, or love but mostly I just call him boyfriend or his real name.

We can Pretend these are New Years Resolutions

On September 20th I wrote this list:

Things I want:

-Soon:

--A good job

--A decision about my future (job, what sort of grad school, etc.)

--An apartment with a roommate or by myself

--A good boyfriend I can see a future with

-Later:

--A place by myself

--To be totally financially independent

-Much later:

--A marriage I'm confient in

--A steady income

--Job fulfillment/satisfaction

What's interesting about this list is the timing of it. I wrote the day of my in office job interview at my current job and three days after my first date with Boyfriend. In the time since then job hired me and I've started, Boyfriend and I became officially in a relationship, and Roommate and I moved in together.

Is my job a "good job?" Yes. They pay me enough for me to live on, my coworkers are fun, supportive, and talented, I have my own office, and they are interested in making sure I know what I'm doing and have opportunities to be creative and grow.

Have I made a decision about my future? No way. I have no idea what I'm going to do. You know how Allie from Hyperbole and a Half wanted to be a doctor and about 500 other things and is now a runner/blogger? Well I'm like the less interesting version of that. When I was in college I decided I wanted to be a philosophy professor. I didn't get into any of the Ph.D. programs I applied to and so I took a year off, which turned into more than a year because I got all anxious about applications and papers and publications. Is philosophy what I really want to do and I'm holding myself back/settling? Or is philosophy what I wanted to do when all I knew was the academia bubble? I have no idea.

An apartment. Yes. Roommate and I have a lovely place right by the train station. We have cable and wired internet and a cat. She has a cat. Animals creep me out because I can't understand how they think and I'm pretty sure they all want to murder me.

Boyfriend I can see a future with. Yes. Boyfriend and I are very much in love. We've been together for a few months now and things are going well. I'm not ready to pick out china patterns just yet but that could have more to do with the fact that I'm four years younger than the state average for women to get married for the first time. I'd even consider myself a late bloomer so let's add two years to that. It doesn't take six years to pick out a china pattern so I have some time.

I think if I stick with job I can achieve the second set of goals. If I go to grad school the finance thing could take another decade though. The third set I don't know about but I certainly worry about that stuff enough that I bet I won't let it slip through the cracks.

Be Good for Posterity's Sake

Some day when I'm more famous than Randall Munroe, Matt Inman, and Wolf Blitzer combined, people are going to become so enthralled by my blogging skills that they'll push the "Older Posts" button until they find this. If these adoring fans are anything like me, and since they love me they will probably be at least putting in a sporting effort to be just like me, they will expect the first blog post to be one of three things: as crappy as a pilot to a tv show, the inception of the awesomeness they've come to expect, or a mission statement. I don't know what sort of awesome they'll have come to expect and I can't reproduce the poor lighting in every tv pilot just by having a bad font so I will go with the third option.

Mission statement: I'm going to write honestly and with all the personality I can put into a piece of writing. I'm going to try to be funny. Sometimes I might succeed in making you think. Often I'll just be putting a part of me out there for the world to take, ignore, or reject. I'm sorry, but I can't draw. I'm not Randall or Matt or even Allie. I don't even own a camera so I can't take funny pictures to illustrate my blog. Because of this, I expect no one to read anything I write. I love to read and I don't even read blogs without graphics of some sort.

This blog will be comprised of my writing, which means it will be made of me, which means it will include the things I most like. There will be lists. There will be references to shows, books, movies, songs, and general culture. There will be science, philosophy, and silliness. There will be poor spelling and missed typos. There might even be vocabulary.