Art Supplies are Dangerous

A few days ago in Open Art Studio we delivered art supplies to different classrooms.

Sounds simple, right?

It turns out it's not as easy as it seems. It's not just giving some supplies to a teacher. There are actually three elements to the delivery:
1.) Balancing, holding, and carrying all the supplies. (Also included in this category is opening doors without dropping anything)
2.) Tracking down the teacher/teacher's room (This is only a problem if you don't know the teacher's room)
3.) Getting into the classroom, getting the teacher to notice you, and figuring out where to put the supplies.

My history teacher had ordered a lot of supplies, so one of my friends went with me and carried some of them. We were doing pretty well with number one for the time being. Number two was not a problem. Number three, on the other hand . . .

We got to the room and I looked in through the window. Just as I feared, my history teacher was not inside, and instead a another teacher who was teaching an elective there was busy talking to the class. I turned to my friend and we both kind of laughed nervously.

To make matters worse, there was someone at the pencil sharpener who had noticed me, and I think some other people might have as well. We didn't have time to figure out what was going on, because too many people would notice that we were standing out there and that could be really awkward.

At this point I started failing at number one.

I leaned on the door to get it open, because my hands were occupied. I kept pushing myself against the door until I realized that it wouldn't open unless I turned the knob. I somehow managed to rearrange the pile of markers in my hand so that I could use a couple of fingers to help turn the doorknob. Again, no luck.

I began to realize that more people in the class were noticing me. I began to get nervous. My hand began all sweaty, and I couldn't even get a grip on the doorknob. I was barely able to keep the art supplies balanced.

I tried some more rearranging, and finally I managed to turn the doorknob a little, but not enough. Even so, I was pretty sure it was now going to work, so I tried again and threw myself at the door.

Now this door has a sort of problem with getting stuck, and I suppose that's what happened to me. Unfortunately, when it gets stuck it also opens really quickly and suddenly. Immediately I found myself stumbling into the room . . . right into the boy sharpening his pencil.

Awkward.

I quickly apologized and turned to the teacher. "We have supplies for Ms. S."

The teacher stared at me for a few seconds, then looked around the room. I have a feeling she's angry at me for interrupting her class. "Put them on her desk," she responded.

I quickly and awkwardly walked/ran to the desk, my friend following close behind. By the time I got to the desk my hands were really slippery, and as I put one stack of markers down on the table the other stack decided to fall over. My friend was already done, and I had to bend down and pick up all these packages of colored pencils and skinny markers and such, and a couple packages had opened and some of the contents had spilled onto the floor. The teacher had not yet resumed her class, and all focus was on me. Quickly I piled the art supplies on the desk and escaped.

-Marianne

Insiders' Guide to the YPU

The Yale Political Union is perhaps the nation's foremost collegiate political debating organization (or at least it likes to think that it is). I attended the first meeting of the entire Political Union on Tuesday evening and had the opportunity to observe the various parties there. I thought I would provide an insiders' guide to the various parties and their characteristics:

The Liberals like to do social justice things and don't have debates, but rather "discussions" on their topics.
The Party of the Left was formed in 2006 at the nadir of the Iraq War and the left's frustration with the Bush administration, and hopes to portray coherently and well the ideas of the Left.
The Progressive Party is somewhat strange and likes to have fun; its politics are pretty much moderate, they like Theodore Roosevelt.
The Independent Party's fundamental belief goes along with their motto: "Hear all sides." That said, they're probably more liberal on average, but have, and cherish, a wide variety of viewpoints.
The Conservative Party is mildly conservative, they like the traditions of Western civilization and things like that.
The Tory Party likes to think that it is old-fashioned British.
The Party of the Right is a somewhat radical right-ist party where everyone has some kind of strong and unusual belief.

All three of the "right" parties (Conservative, Tory, of the Right) seem to like to talk about time in terms of post meridian rather than PM and like to wear suits and bowties.

I assure you that these are not typical Yale students. Still, what can you expect from tradition-loving conservatives in a decades-long tradition at a place like Yale?

-Philip

Jhaaarb! Nature is SO beautiful. . .

Since I'm sure you're all already tired of school, I'm going to write about the summer.

One of my camp counselors (we'll call her Andie) is famous for talking in her sleep. On the first day, everyone in her cabin was warned that it was not a good idea to wake her up in the middle of the night, even if it was an emergency. Andie explained that her most common response to people trying to wake her up was "Go see a Chiropractor," shortly followed by "Go see a psychiatrist." Her least common response was to actually wake up.

So one day we were just kind of sitting around, and all of a sudden Andie asks, "Did anybody in my tent hear two people having a conversation in the middle of the night?"

Nobody had. "What do you mean?" someone asked. "Did you hear one?"

"No," replied Andie, "But I did wake up in the middle of the night, and I'm sure I was in the middle of a conversation with someone else, but I can't figure out who it was or what we were conversing about."

While she was saying this, another girl walked over. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Last night I was having a conversation with someone in my sleep."

"Yes, you were!" said the girl excitedly. "I heard that!"

Andie was getting excited now. "What did I say?"

"Well, you said something like 'Oh, nature is so beautiful.' And then Celeste said 'Rajrjaahh!' And then you said "I know, right?'
And Celeste said 'Vhgulzaar' or something like that."

This makes me kind of wonder what they were thinking in their sleep.

-Marianne

PS: Sachi, you are now obligated to write a blog post in the next seven days

Cheeto Karma

If my history teacher can explain Hindu principles with The Terminator, I can get away with talking about Cheeto Karma...

Today was The First Day of School. After a series of 20 minute classes, I had a free period and so did my friend who is also named Rebecca. We decided to go to the cafeteria and buy some food from the vending machines since we were both hungry. I almost never use vending machines, so I decided to wait for Rebecca to go first so I could watch the order that she pressed different buttons. However, while she was buying a bottle of water, a random guy came over and started using the vending machine.

After a while, he asked me for help. I answered that I almost never use vending machines so I didn't know what to do. He said he had put a dollar in and punched the number, but nothing happened.

I saw that on the vending machine it said $1.00 in one of those LCD things that lights up with words, labeled "Credit."

"Does this mean how much money you've put in?" I asked.

"I think it's how much the thing you want to buy costs," said Rebecca. "Try pushing the return change button," she suggested to the guy.

When the button was found to be stuck, we decided that it must've not registered his dollar. Forlornly, he left.

"I don't want to use that vending machine," Rebecca said to me. We decided to try another one on the other side of the cafeteria.

I put my three quarters for a bag of cheetos into the machine (which was identical to the other one), and noticed that it now said "0.75" in the box labeled credit. Aha, so I was right, I thought to myself. Which means...

I grabbed my bag of cheetos, and stepped aside so Rebecca could buy hers. "It probably doesn't accept fives," she said, as she put her five dollar bill in the slot. As she expected, the machine spit it back out. "Do you have change for a five?" she asked me.

"You don't need one," I said. "I have an idea." A bewildered Rebecca followed me across the cafeteria to the first vending machine.

"What's your idea?" she asked.

"Look," I said, pointing to the "credit" box that still said $1.00. There's one dollar in there. Now, the number for cheetos is 48..." I pressed 48, and waited a second. The machine dispensed a bag of cheetos, and I retrieved the extra 25 cents from the extra change spot.

"So it did register his dollar..." said Rebecca, figuring it all out.

As we walked along eating our cheetos, I asked, "Why is it that you're the one who gets the free cheetos, when it was my idea?"

"I could give you 75 cents," Rebecca offered.

"Yeah, but you who you really owe 75 cents is that guy," I responded.

"I suppose I could leave a dollar in the vending machine for the next person who comes, to set my karma straight," said Rebecca. "Maybe that person would leave money in return, and it would start a whole chain."

"So everyone gets a free bag of cheetos and then pays for one, and gets good karma?" I said. "Nothing changes except there's more good karma in the world."

"Exactly," said Rebecca. "And that means the world is a better place!"

-Rebecca

P.S. I would like to acknowledge that the colloquial use of the word karma is not quite the same as the Hindu concept, and I do not wish to imply that I know what I'm talking about. :)