In my MBA program, there are a couple of places to take night classes, but the one that’s most convenient for me is downtown, because it’s right next to work. Unfortunately, the entrance to Suburban Station, the train station right next to the school that I use to get home, starts to unravel quickly at night. I mean, it’s already pretty gross during the day, but nighttime brings a special glow. So, I always think about how dirty the area surrounding Temple downtown is, and why they can’t use their pull with the city to help fix it.
Conveniently, from time to time, my school sends us surveys to fill out about the quality of our experience, both in the classroom and in the facilities so that we can complain as much as possible.
I’ve always learned both at work and in school that you should never just come to someone with a problem; you should also have at least a couple possible ways to solve it. But, this is just for my MBA and everyone knows part-time MBA students are pretty tired and already 100% invested in classes, and also I have NO IDEA how to navigate the sprawling City of Philadelphia political system.
Several glasses deep into a bottle of wine a couple months ago, my friend and I decided we needed more Jewish rituals in our lives. She has a toddler and wants to make sure he is steeped in Jewish tradition, but, also being ex-Soviet, is not sure how to go about doing it.
So, this past weekend, Mr. B and I hosted a Passover seder. We probably shouldn’t have, because people really only do seder the first two nights, I think. I’m not 100% clear on seder rules. But, I had some time last Saturday and all of our friends were free, and it was marginally during the week of Passover, so, that’s when we decided to have the seder.
I’m staying sane between school and work by planning our vacation to Italy. One of the cities we’re staying in is Rome. But, Mr. B’s already been to Rome and I’ve seen it so many times on tv I might as well have been there, so I was looking for some place really special to stay and have an “authentic” Roman experience, as the white people say.
I like to listen to Jay-Z and Kanye West, because my life is nothing like theirs. The closest I will get to a Ferrari is renting a BMW, and the closest I will get to being Kim Kardashian is reading Yerevan Magazine. But sometimes, you don’t want to listen to songs that say “My furs is Mongolian/ my ice brought the goalies in,” no matter how much rhetorical talent Kanye admittedly has. Sometimes you don’t want to be reminded that Kanye’s single Jesus piece is the cost of your MBA. That sometimes is usually when you’re paying your semester tuition bill.
Sometimes you just want to listen to songs about people like you, which is why Thrift Shop is so popular right now. America has been on a Cristal hangover since 2008, and we somehow can’t seem to get over it, no matter how many glasses of water we drink or how much Pepto Bismol we take. We’ve woken up to find our wallet empty and our hand in a Wendy’s drivethrough bag (mmmm Frosty). We need a lot of energy to get through that Sunday, and we need support from our musicians.
Here they are (most have NSFW lyrics because, they, they are rap songs):