The more you don't know

I had to take a grade five level math test today, and I'm pretty sure I failed it.

It was one of the most in-depth job interviews I have ever had, and at the end of a very, very long-winded interview, there was a math test and a data entry exam. Yikes! Neither of these two things are my strong suit, however, at least for data entry I have acquired a way of typing that works reasonably fast for me, albeit ridiculous. I won't say what the job interview is for in this open web world, but I will say that it was a part-time job that really shouldn't need this much of a screening test.

Anyway, the math test was full of questions that I probably haven't seen since about grade five. There were a lot of questions on finding percentages and dividing ticket sales, and bla bla bla, however the one that stumped me for the longest was this:

2 adult tickets and a child's ticket cost 49$ total, 2 child tickets and one adult cost 44$ total. What is the cost for the individual child and adult tickets?

This question must have taken me 12 minutes out of the 20 minute exam. Why? Because I was trying desperately to remember the formula/ cross-division/ thingy thing that I would have used to figure this out in grade five, and my mind was a blank. I'm sure there is a way to substitute with a's and b's, and do an algebraic equation of some kind, but I could not for the life of me remember. I will note that I eventually figured out the answer, and I will say what it is at the bottom in case anyone is dying to figure it out on their own, oh I know you are! My system of figuring it out, however, consisted of trial and error, substituting different numbers in and then adjusting up or down depending on my results. (Not exactly the most efficient system, but whatever works.)

Anyway, what this whole math test got me thinking was that I actually used to know how to answer this question, but I will bet you that I memorized and regurgitated the formula for my math tests, and then away it went forever. I have been noticing as of late just how many things this is true for in my life! Definitely the majority of my University studies were conducted this way. It makes me a little bit sad. It is a system of success that I was able to use in order to achieve good grades and "succeed" through most of my life, however, I have nothing to show for it now! I'm not saying I want my brain to be absolutely packed with useless information, and I don't disagree that these things fall into the "use it or lose it"  category of things that I have not used. That said, I am mourning the chances that I had to "learn" interesting things in the past, that I instead "replicated and regurgitated."

Another side of this coin is a phenomenon I have noticed in myself: Feeling like there are things that I should know that I don't, and instead of owning up to it, pretending that I know them. A very regular example of this is movies. There have been times (specifically when I am in a group of film-buff people, or directors, or another group that makes me very nervous) when someone starts to talk about a famous movie that I have not seen, and instead of saying I haven't seen it and being the odd one out, I agree and pretend I know exactly what they're talking about, laugh about the "really funny part at the end" and try really hard to remember the actor's name that played the guy with the weird haircut, that I actually have no idea who in hell he could possibly be. I am sure I'm not the only one who has done this. Right??

So why have I done that? Nerves, feelings of insecurity, an unsafe group of people, many reasons! However, I am actually preventing myself from learning through this intelligent group of people that I'm with. If they're film buffs, instead, I could find out their insight on a film, which ones to see, which to avoid, find out interesting background information, and about that particular director, actually learn. I think it's time that I admit that I know nothing. The more I learn, the more I realize that I actually do not know, and therefore, instead of trying so hard to prove that I know something, I am going to do the opposite. Admit that I know nothing. (That way when I do actually know something, it will be surprising and fun!)

I now have a new goal: I want to learn. Really learn. How do I do that? I ask a shit load of question, even if it means looking stupid. I came up with a list of things that I (very judging-ly) feel that I should know by now, given I am what people might refer to as an "adult." My goal is to learn how to do them:
-make an omelet that doesn't end up gooy in the middle or way over-cooked. (actually, learn how to cook a lot of things, like chicken, fish, and turkey without over-cooking the shit out of it! Maybe I should change this one to cooking classes in general. I want to cook things well!)
- fold a fitted sheet. It's time.
- play the drums (I've been saying I wanted to learn for years, so what am I waiting for?)
- finish actually reading the 1/6 of Shakespeare plays I haven't read. I avoid them, but really, I'm a Classical actor, that's just wrong.
- lift weights properly. 'nuff said
- wash the windows. How do you get inside? how?
-  sew.
- keep my receipts mainly organized so that it doesn't take me 5 hours to sort them come spring
- use tools. I mean, I guess it depends on what you're using them for, but all those little handy projects they might be good for around the house. Like fixing things... and stuff... yup. Specific.

That's the list for now, but really, I want to be open for whatever learning experiences might come my way. Here we go!!!

Oh. And the answer is adult: 18$, child: 13$, just in case you wanted to know!

Love and kindness all.

Potty humour at its' best

Alright, I realize this is a ridiculous topic, not the most literary or philosophical discussion I have posed, but I've been babysitting all week and this is where my head is at:

Today I did something I have never done before: I farted REALLY loud in front of a stranger in public. I didn't exactly do it on purpose, I just wasn't thinking about it. I had been babysitting a 14 month old all day, and just one of the great thing about babies is that you can just burp and fart all you want around them, because no one cares!

Anyway, I was wearing my ipod head phones and listening to some classic Nora Jones hits, and I just let 'er rip without noticing, that is until the woman standing next to me almost jumped out of her skin, she was so shocked. It was in that moment that I realized what had just happened. I stared straight ahead, as did she, and we both stood as stiff as corpses until our subway car came, which seemed like an eternity. It's funny how we both felt the absolute necessity to pretend like nothing had happened, knowing perfectly well that the other knew perfectly well what had just occurred. Why is that? I mean, I will always find farts hilarious, and if I had looked at the woman's face, I probably would have started laughing hysterically, but no, we were not allowed to laugh in this circumstance, we had to stare straight ahead.

I can recall several hilarious farting circumstances in the last few years of my life. Being an actor, there is a lot of movement and voice work that challenges the ability to keep in gas, and sometimes it slips out. One of the most hilarious moments I have ever witnessed was with an instructor in a workshop I was taking. He was doing a leg stretch, and right in the middle of it, a little teeny fart popped out, and shocked him, so he said "ooops!" and continued on with the class. I, however, could not continue on. No matter what I did, I could not stop replaying it in my head, and one of my classmates was uncontrollably giggling across the room, so whenever I caught her eye I lost it, and I continued to giggle until I had to excuse myself from the room. I also had a one on one session with a voice teacher I was taking some classes with, and in the middle of doing a very low-breath squat, a big fart came right out. Again, I pretended that it did not happen, but based on her face, I could tell that of course she noticed! She was probably trying desperately not to laugh, for all I know.

So my question is, why are farts so darn funny? Is it the element of surprise? You never know when they might suddenly appear? Is it the noise that they make? Is that noise funny just in itself, and the fact that we make that noise from our bodies makes it even funnier?

Whatever the case, today I didn't find my fart funny. Today, I was terrified that this stranger was going to think I was some weird, gross person who farts really loud in public. Now, I did fart really loud in public, but why would she think I was weird and gross? In fact, in my experience, as I have mentioned, I find other people's farts to be hilarious, so in retrospect, maybe she was really just trying not to laugh, but if she did laugh, it could have been an amazing moment.

I declare, let us all embrace the humour of our farts! If they slip out, let us embrace their hilarity, and allow others to do the same!!

Love and kindness all.