Do you ever find yourself sitting around while reading the paper or watching the "news" wondering who the people are who conduct the "studies" that we read about, listen to on NPR, or watch on the 6:00 news (when we're not watching what Paris wore to jail, of course)? I haven't. I'm serious. I have NEVER cared who conducts those kinds of weird-ass studies where they ask one thousand people some questions, figure out what they all thought about the questions, and then had to figure out how to tell people like me about it. Never. Ever. I could have cared less. And I certainly didn't think about the ways in which they analyzed their data or the methods they used to come up with their analysis. I mean, who among you does care about that useless stuff? (OK, I know there are one or two, so just take me with a grain of salt...or No Salt, because that's better for your heart, I hear.)
Well, look no further, people. Your statistician has come forth. I will be so well versed in formulas such as sigma divided by the square root of N; finding confidence intervals with various confidence levels; and trying to avoid Type I and Type II Errors in my null hypothesis that you won't know what hit you when I come your way. This is serious stuff. And I'll have serious answers. Through formulas. And pictures of hills, as I call them; but, I guess they're really called frequencies or bell curves. But they look like freakin' hills to me. And they have "TAILS," if you can believe it! Tails on either sides of the hills, for goodness sake! Whatever those are for...
I mean, are these people SERIOUS? Who the HELL thinks this way? ( I was in my stats professor's office today going over addition and subtraction--just kidding--going over class stuff, and I said that statement to him--about no one in the country thinking this way--and he replied in his best Joe Pesci way, because he looks JUST like him, "Well, actually, MOST Americans think this way. Maybe just not you.") What the hell, Joe Pesci? Give a poor (and righteous) language arts lover a break, why don'tcha?
I spent about twenty nine hours this past weekend with my brand new book: The Complete Idiot's Guide to Statistics, delving in to the minds of those of you who are...um.....different than me? The majority, other than me? ORRRRRR, those of you who shouldn't be the hosts or hostess of dinner parties where people like me are coming. YO, I'm serious! Angie, Jaymee, Denise, Jake, J, and whomever else thinks this way, is this how you people put things into terms? Is this how you make sense of your professional world when thinking about life? If so, seeee yaaaaa! I can NO LONGER be friends with those of you who dream in Greek freaking syllables, squares, square roots, z, t, and f distributions, and freakin' bell curves that confuse people!
And thank GOD, by the way, for my sorority and them making us learn that God-awful song about the Greek alphabet. Because, people, that was the ONLY background knowledge this little qualitative-lovin', descriptive writing, non-loving-non-abled-math girl had on the first day of statistics class. I mean, do I reject the null or do I fail to reject the null? What kind of bull-crap is that? Why can't quantitative researchers balls up and make a claim about whether the hypothesis they were testing is ACCEPTED? They have to be all ambiguous and either REJECT it or FAIL to REJECT it. Whatever, dude. This is a fun game for me. A new "foreign" language (which my professor informed us used to be classified as a foreign language requirement at UGA years ago...let's see....I can take Spanish, Latin, French, or Statistics this semester...hmmmmm....); A new way to challenge myself, so-to-speak.
Just to let you all know, I've been in my professor's office already for a few tutorials; I have two different stats tutors whom I've met with already; I've read The Complete Idiot's Guide THREE times through; and I have a site that I refer to each day for a few hours to comfort me through some stats problems and review............ Oh......................................
And we've only been in class a week. OK, only two days...but it seems like a year already!
The other class that's keeping me from drowning myself due to the pressure/formulas of the stats class is a wonderful Feminist Methodology course. Yes, yes, people: there is a WHOLE class on feminism, feminist theory, and how dudes continue to bring us down, ladies! It's an amazing class where we have about 100 pages a night to read, but it's all worth it. All about how you guys continue to keep a good girl down, so I'll have plenty to say when I've completed the short four week course. (Oh, wait, I guess I've established via email and past friendships that I already have plenty to say...it'll just be about different stuff, I guess.)
OK, enough. I need to go compare two populations and see if I get to reject the null or fail to reject the null with my level of significance at 5%. (Stats people, you KNOW you're diggin' this...) and then call my dad at 2am, tell him men suck and hang up on him to stand up for the rights of my fellow sisters!
I figure, after all is said and done at the end of the summer, I'll be a post-modern feminist who can live in a positivist / non-sorority-Greek lettered / two or more comparative-population-numbered world, as long as I remind those who still come from the Enlightenment and continue to bring me and mine down that they are no longer the dominant norm in my subjugated sample mean of a society.
Just kidding. What I meant to say is: when all is said and done, in two more months, I'll know a shit-tone of formulas and still be a single, white, female--and, I guess be more aware of it...
If you all don't hear from me for a few months (well, I know it might be a nice relief for a few of you...), then check the local newspaper of Athens, GA (I'm not sure if we have one, but if we do, look online) and see if there is a single, white female, age 33, who has either drowned herself, jumped off a small cliff in the north GA mountains, or checked herself into a rehab treatment center with Paris, Brittany, Nicole, and whomever else has those little ugly dogs. What, do you think I'm going to "do" statistics sober? Heellloooooo!
Cheers! Hilary
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