Group Project Gone Bad

Anybody every have an assignment from hell GROUP PROJECT in school? Anybody like them?


Life’s like a permanent group project.


Substitute Fellow Citizens for Classmates

There’s no end-of-semester relief in sight. We have to live with all these other people as long as we all shall live because all the good hermit caves are taken.


This country was founded by immigrants. Whether our ancestors didn’t like it in their home country or weren’t liked in their home country, had a taste for adventure, or came for work (via indentured servitude or sold into slavery), our genes are coded differently than those who stayed.

The vast frontier of the West has allowed us the freedom of rugged individualism for a long, long time. But, now the connectivity of the internet is forcing us to realize that we have neighbors. And those neighbors are different from what we’ve been accustomed to seeing.



God’s Golden Rule for this Group Project is: Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Here are some suggestions on how to make it easier:

  • Please look around for your empathy button, which might be disguised as the power off button on your television or other news source.
  • Go volunteer at a hospital or other shelter, remind yourself that people and suffering are real, not just internet punching bags.
  • Run for a local office.
  • Get involved in your community in a positive way— I believe this is why so many marched – they wanted an outlet. (The airlines and transportation industries thank you. The municipalities that needed to pay all their officers overtime do not– this will impact local budgets for funding for other community project & then folks will be upset there’s no money, never considering that the lack of funds is tied directly to their actions. But, this is a blog for another day)

Your mission, should you choose to accept it….

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Faith-Based Econometrics

It’s wrong like bacon fried Twinkies are wrong.

It’s wrong like laughing during Schindler’s List.

Not caring about the matrix algebra fundamentals underlying the SAS/Stata commands is wrong when I am cultivating a lifelong habit of learning.**


I am grateful every day for last semester’s B-

Does a girl need to understand a combustion engine or physics to drive a car? No. Same with Econometrics.


Actual notes from my class this semester.  I skipped 3 pages of proofs of assumptions 1 & 2. All I need is the highlighted line.

All I need is that last highlighted line. The Command Line. I will take it on faith that the programmer knows her math and my Theta estimator will be unbiased, consistent and robust.

** This meme is also wrong, but it’s hella funny.joint-significance

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Minor Epiphany at Albertson’s

I usually have my best ideas when I am driving, which is pretty inconvenient for recording my latest and greatest thoughts. Luckily, my husband still answers the phone when I call, will hash through my hare-brained schemes with me, and email me the edited version (all for the low, low price of half my retirement. HALF, Eddie!).


INSIGHT # 76: Husbands are handy.

But today I had a flash of insight while unloading pre-prepped salads, disgusting, gross healthy Greek yogurt, and free-range Al-fresco eggs onto the conveyor belt. A magazine cover in the grocery store checkout lane proclaimed that Oprah’s lost another small person 42 lbs.


I can relate.

Oprah (and I) have gained and lost the same 30-40-50 pounds many times. But unlike me, O has enough money to hire a personal chef, trainer, grocery shopper, maid, therapist, hypnotist, anti-depressants, stimulants, appetite suppressants, stomach surgery, etc… and she STILL can’t lose weight and keep it off.

Let me repeat. Oprah has all the help in the world, every advantage known to womankind, and she still has a weight problem. Maybe I should cut myself some slack (my pants damn sure won’t).


10 days after the Epiphany, that’s my epiphany. Be kind to others. Be kind to self. Be. Kind.

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Badges are nifty. Tonight I earned the coveted “my mom is an idiot” badge.


“MOM, You are such an idiot…” Love, your kids who can’t find their own shoes, make instant grits, or traverse DeSoto Parish without a speeding ticket.

SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t already seen the new STAR WARS movie, ROGUE ONE, don’t go.*

Apparently, I am the last person on earth to find out that this movie occurs between Episodes 3 & 4, which makes me an “idiot.” Which is absolute baloney..

Just because I’ve been living in a (metaphorical) cave for the last 2 years studying riveting subjects like positive accounting theory (we’re POSITIVE the debits go on the right), abnormal accruals (sounds like a bad rash, see your doctor ASAP), and discretionary revenues (looks like real money, but spends like Monopoly bills), instead of keeping up with the movies, now I’m erroneously branded an idiot.

Please. The correct term is IGNORANT. And just a little peeved that nobody told me!!!!!!!*


I’m really talking about me, but my meme generating abilities are so 2000 & late…, i.e. really super bad.

DON’T LOOK, ETHEL!!!!!   There’s a SPOILER down there.







*They all die. All of them. Except the bad guys.

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When Harry Traveled With Sally

I’ve been thinking (a rare and dangerous occurrence that usually requires significant retail therapy post-thought). As current events filter through my cabbage patch brain, I wonder…

Would Harry Meet Sally in today’s world?

Consider this:


Families (not strangers) exhibit a preference for cellular crack instead of conversation at the dinner/breakfast/wooden table.

And this:


NPR* (the New Miss Manners) says travel with strangers is a socially acceptable time to wear headphones: 

My guess is that Harry would have climbed into that piss-yellow Toyota Corona station wagon with Sally, plugged his phone in the charger, poked his earbuds in, and zoned out for the entire trip.

Sally would have mainlined espressos in order to drive the entire trip while alternately wondering (a) what she did to make Harry ignore her and (b) was she Attila the Hun or Elizabeth Bathory in a past life? How else did she manage to incur the kind of karmic debt that makes her a magnet for narcissistic assholes in this life?


All neuroses aside, there’d be no big O restaurant scene, no wagon wheel coffee table argument, no singing Surrey with the Fringe on Top, no philosophic discussion on the nature of male-female relationships. No nothing, Nora Ephron.

LinkedIn is a networking tool that lists connections between people with a market cap of $26 BILLION. Facebook’s market cap is $335 BILLION. Friends, family and known associates are valuable to big corporate America, but are people losing the skills required to make and retain these relationships?

Are relationships outdated in our new CGI reality?

Just some non-food thoughts I’ve had.


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There Ain’t No Such Thing as a Power Nap

We’re all familiar (or should be) with TANSTAAFL, aka There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. I’ve coined a complementary term: TANSTAAPN.


CAUTION! Hidden Costs of Sleeping During the Day!!!!   (I made this image myself. Can you tell?)

Nothing’s free. Not lunch, not gas station car washes, and most certainly not naps in the middle of the day. The hidden costs included messy hair, matted mascara, and a generally disheveled appearance that leads ones co-workers to conclude that you’re either having a torrid affair or getting more sleep then them. Either one might incite a revolt.


Edited to read: Sleep, family, friends, money, food, fun, football, basketball, swimming, exercise, hygiene……

Finals are fast approaching and my to-do list runneth over. I’m gonna miss the NSU GALA, the Natchitoches Christmas Festival of Lights, and most of the holiday cheer since my comprehensive exams are at the end of January, 2017.


If you’re the praying sort, please include me (energy, stamina, memory) over the next 2 months. If you’re not the praying sort, send money. 🙂

Because no post is complete without a music video, because I am going to miss the annual post-GALA ride to the riverbank, and because Leah and Robert love it, here’s a Christmas classic everyone should have as an earworm every holiday season…

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Exponential Decay

Went to lunch with this youngster today. He was unaware that you could start suffering from sleep injuries* as early as the mid-thirties.

  • A sleep injury occurs when you go to bed at the regular time, sleep the same number of hours, in the same bed, under the same conditions (usually a child lying perpendicular to you with a foot in a kidney) as the average night of the previous 12,775 nights of your life, yet you wake up with something malfunctioning, hurting, or sore. Similar to sleep injuries are “sneeze,” “just walking up/down the stairs,” just breathing in/out type not playing basketball at the gym/water skiing for the first time in a decade type injuries.

I coulda had a V-8, but I went back to graduate school. Doh!

(Almost) Dr. Laura had no good news for him. Aging is an exponential decay model. He’s had econometrics, so he took it … about like I expected.


I’m shooting for the green line. It’s way too easy to end up on the blue line if you give up or give in.

I cautioned him that post 45 was worse and he looked at me funny, which I assume was an expression of shock and awe when he found out how old I really am.

“What??” I said. “Getting old ain’t as easy as I make it look.”


Ben, Wes, Me, & JC. Relative ages to me (-13), (-15), (-2), & (-19). keeping up with these kids…

The appreciative laugh was almost worth revealing my true age. Almost.



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