quick movie notes

I took the afternoon off today and we went to see Eight Below -- yes, it's a Disney movie, and yes, it's fairly predictable in the way it pulls at your emotions -- but I enjoyed watching the dogs and wept through most of it anyway. I'm all for certain kinds of genre movies -- they can be perfectly satisfying if you know what you're getting in for. Now if only the movie theatre would have a "bring your dog" show the way they do for the "babies welcome" matinee (which we try to avoid) -- I know our eldest, who loves to watch animal shows on TV, would really love it. We're definitely going to get the DVD when it comes out so she can dream of being a sled dog.

We rented Red Eye recently, and I was really surprised at how much I liked it. It came out around the same time as Flight Plan, which we did see in the theater -- I was interested in that coincidence/conjunction and what it says about cultural anxieties about air travel. But seeing Red Eye made me realize how much both films are also about anxieties about women's professionalism. Seems like Jodie Foster's been all about anxious mom movies lately, but one of the premises of FP is that her character's career is what makes her valuable to the highjackers. Same thing is true in RE, but it's a much more engaging and surprisingly feminist movie (who would have expected this from Wes Craven?). Over and over the film suggests that the heroine has to put up with condescending crap from her father and Dr Phil, disguised as "caring." One of her first tips that Creepy Guy Gillian Murphy is a bit off is when he pulls the same thing. Her response: a protective white lie. Women's instincts at observing trouble are lauded (even down to the 11 year old solo traveler) and so is fighting back. Thoroughly enjoyable, even on our moderately sized TV.

Chumscrubber, an indy film that we missed in the theater, was a real gem -- group it with Edward Scissorhands, Donnie Darko, and maybe Elephant -- though it's much more like the former two in tone and style. Suburbia is bad, and no one understands teenagers. And loss is hard to manage. It's quirky, but has real feeling driving the story.

yoga challenge: 22/60

I started writing this post on Monday, when it was 20/60 -- which seemed like more of a round number, the one-third marker. But the challenge continues on...It's been a really great experience so far. I've been a regular Bikram student for about two years, and was up to four or five days a week as my regular routine. But doing it every day consecutively really has bumped my yoga up to another level. This practice really intensifies when you do consecutive classes -- the detoxifying aspects of the heat, the strength and flexibilty improvements all really build upon the previous day's class. My body is changing, really rapidly, even though I'd been practicing for a long while. I hadn't really expected those kind of results (loss of inches, visible changes) since I'm not a complete beginner.

One of the many things I like about Bikram is that we do the same sequence of poses every class. It's meditative and really helps me focus my attention inwards -- both towards the physical details of the poses and towards calming my monkey mind. Like a martial arts form, the Bikram series thoroughly works all the systems of the body in a healthful sequence that serves as a basic daily tuneup, correcting alignment problems, healing injuries, and strengthening the spine. One of the other benefits for both beginners and advanced students is that you can easily mark your progress: the same pose that caused difficulty three months before gets easier; a pose that you thought was easy gets more challenging as you learn its subtleties and improve your form. Definitely, the challenge has improved specific poses for me, like Toestand and Balancing Stick. Both of these were very difficult for me because of my bad ankle and so-so knees. But I've gained stability and strength around those joints and can really feel the difference.

I was tired for a couple of days around 8-9, but at this point I'm really feeling great. The yoga is not the hard part -- scheduling your day around it is. It's a 90 minute class, plus drive time and shower time -- about a 2 1/2 hour block all together. I'm lucky that my partner has been incredibly supportive, taking on some extra chores some days to make sure I can get to yoga.

It's been really great to have the support of people at my studio, too -- there's a wall where if you're doing a challenge, you have a chart where your progress is tracked. A star for every day.

I've never had an athletic goal before. And rarely have I had a goal and action plan that is so crystal clear: go to yoga. every day. that's all. It's really given me clarity and focus in the rest of my life. I'm always setting plans for reforming myself, and I'm sometimes moderately successful with them -- but I don't think I've ever managed to do something for 22 days straight. I'm hoping some of my success with this will carry over to other areas.

4 am and I'm feeling low

Fleh. Pluh. Wfffw. I give in. I must sleep.

I've been staying up late cranking out words for a deadline. I know by now that this is how I usually wind up working, but I'm also feeling frustrated with myself. It's such a disruption of how I prefer to live my life. I've been so healthy this year so far -- getting mostly enough sleep, working out once or twice every day. Now I've gone and thrown a wrench into all of that. And this essay I'm working on is still not where I'd like it to be.

If only I could just blow off my stupid meetings tomorrow. But I think I have to show up for a few hours, wearing my administrator's hat. And then I'll head home again to wrestle with this essay.

As always, I'm busy promising myself that it will be different next time. . .

back

I didn't mean to be silent for so long. It was just one of those weeks. I certainly didn't mean for my last post before the silence to be so ominous-sounding. True, I was feeling cranky and paranoid when I wrote it -- but several friends pointed out two obvious things to me (regarding the colleague who might know my blog). One, I can always scrutinize my stats daily to see if I'm getting local hits. And two, even if she does know, it really shouldn't/wouldn't change things that much.

More the issue, I think, is that my paranoia about the blog is a symptom of how I've been feeling about this particular person lately. (paranoid, insecure, competitive, irritated)

I've mostly kept pretty clear boundaries with my colleagues -- some I'm friendlier with than others, of course -- regular chats at the office, even occasional lunches. In my first couple of years here I did more weekend/evening socializing with a few of the younger ones, but that has trailed off as we have all developed richer, more complicated lives. I like my colleagues -- but by and large, they aren't people I'd select as close personal friends. So keeping them in the "casual at-work friend" group has been fine. But I'm realizing that sometimes I don't even really feel like making that much effort. Especially if it's going to involve my Sunday afternoons.

omens

I had to go to five different drugstores this week to find my contact lens disinfecting solution. The other stores just didn't have it at all -- some had space on the shelves, but some didn't even have that. Yes, they had other brands, other systems. But I like this one. Finally found two slightly dusty boxes at the grocery store. I'm just hoping that a Target trip this weekend will prove fruitful.

The mascara I've been using for something like 15 years seems to have been discontinued in favor of new super-ultra-pumped-up formulas. The whole reason for buying drugstore mega-brand mascara is that it is widely available and consistent. I hate it when they change these things.

I ordered new running shoes online (since I have big bones and terrible feet, I have to wear special motion control shoes which they don't stock in my size even at the specialty running shops) and when they arrived this week it appears that Saucony has redesigned them. I'm not entirely a fan of the new version.

So, clearly, I am past the freshness date. It's not that I don't like new things, when they are an improvement on the old ways. But once I find something I like, I tend to stick with it.

But, in brighter news, our computer support person let me know that apparently some in the department are getting laptops in addition to their desk machines. . . it's not widely known and depends on what kind of deal you can strike with the Chair. But if I am crafty and successful in my plea, then I could actually have a laptop to use this summer!

I am feeling increasingly paranoid about my blog. More specifically, about the fear that a certain junior colleague who may or may not be a friend of mine (I'm not being coy -- I really can't tell if I think she's in the friend category or not) might have discovered me. Because my fear is that she wouldn't tell me if she did. She would just tell other people. I'm hanging onto my perception that she's so time-conscious she wouldn't waste time online reading about other people's lives. . .

I'm going to have to re-hem a pair of pants I got last fall because I've apparently slimmed down enough that they are now dragging on the floor even with my tall boots on. Yay yoga!

why academics should care about Frey

I haven't been following the James Frey case blow-by-blow, nor do I have the patience to dig up ten zillion links for you all -- you can google search them yourselves if you want to. But it seems really clear to me that this ever-growing network of texts (his "memoir," its initial reviews, the exposes, the follow-ups, etc) creates a wonderful opportunity for literature teachers to engage students with questions about many of the basic questions of our discipline:

• who is the writer of the text? does it matter if we know or not (pseudonym, anonymous publication)? does it matter if we know the age/race/gender/nationality of the writer?
• what kind of text is this? how does it signal its genre or form to us? how has it been packaged or presented by cultural institutions and agents like the publisher, library, school, bookseller, or reviewer?
  
• what does the text mean (and to whom)? what did it mean at the time of its writing? at the time of its original publication? what does it mean to us today? how has this meaning changed?
  

Recently, I've heard several colleagues complaining dismissively up and down these hallways about the media frenzy -- some because they think Oprah shouldn't be in the business of recommending books at all and some because they think the reading public are dupes. I don't agree with either of those positions. But it's clear that teachers of critical thinking and writing can do a lot with this example to encourage readers to think critically about all texts, no matter their source -- no matter if they were purportedly vetted by an authority or not.

I haven't read Frey's book yet, and I'm not sure if I will. (Although now that I've said all this, I suppose I need to work up a course unit and fit it in somewhere.) But to have a book that people actually care about enough to be upset about -- that's a perfect opportunity for teachers of literature.

literary speed dating meme

I'm late to the meme table, but since it's Julie's I kinda have to play. (Or I'll never hear the end of it.) But I'll just say in advance that this kind of question (or your top 5 songs/films ever, etc) is incredibly difficult for me -- all the more so since I handle books professionally. There are novels that I didn't like much on first reading but then decided to teach them and grew to really appreciate, even enjoy them. I have different kinds of preferences depending on the time of year and available braincells to process things. And the whole wrinkle of speed dating -- picking books that would maybe say something about me and be recognizable to someone else? that's extra difficult. And only 3??

But I guess here's what I'd bring:

• George Eliot, Daniel Deronda
• Emma Donoghue, Hood
• Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass

The first because it's the book that converted me to GE, who is still probably my favorite 19thc novelist. (I'll defend Middlemarch any day, Julie!) It's rich and powerful and dramatic and full of interesting psychological investigations -- the complex interiors of her characters are what draw me in every time, along with the beautiful complexities of her language.

Emma Donoghue is my favorite contemporary lesbian novelist -- she's trained academically (an Oxbridge PhD I think) and has done a huge array of projects -- several novels, some plays, short stories, two scholarly studies, an edited anthology, etc etc. I think she's brilliant. This book in particular is incredibly moving, following a bereaved lesbian in the days immediately after her partner's sudden death.

And the final choice signals that yes, I do read fantasy and SF, but I'm incredibly picky about it. Plus this book is itself para-academic in its setting, the Oxford and Cambridge of the future in an alternative alchemical universe. It's Milton inspired, so if you're an English major you'll get the references -- but if you're not you'll just enjoy a damn good story. And it's the first in a trilogy -- so there's more, when you're finished with it! Plus I love a plucky female hero/ine in my novels and in my relationships...

a new kind of goal

I'm not an athletic person, and never have been. What I mean by that: I throw and catch badly, I don't enjoy team sports, I'll never be faster than someone else, and I'm not into physical risk of any sort. I was always the short fat kid, last to be picked for a team (or next-to-last, during the years that Richie, the kid who peed his pants, was in my elementary school). I loathed gym. It was basically one torture session after another, for a kid who wore glasses and didn't ever understand the rules. (The first day we were supposed to play kickball, I asked what we were supposed to do, and was told "it's just like baseball." But of course, being a super-nerdy girl from Egghead Family, I didn't know how baseball was played, never having seen it done. Gym was always like that for me, veering from completely incomprehensible to humiliating to downright painful (dodge ball, anyone?)).

But as I grew older and could go explore my own options, I discovered plenty of types of exercise that I do enjoy -- I was a dedicated aerobics junkie in the 80s (and boy do my knees feel the damage now!), and I've always loved lifting weights and doing the cardio machines at the gym. I flirted with running off and on, too, but it's not the best choice for me. I studied martial arts, and then eventually found my way to yoga. I need to exercise in order to stay sane -- but I'm not athletic. Athletic is a goal-oriented, competitive, mindset that I just don't have.

But as of today, I've set myself a goal that feels closer to something athletic than I've ever done in my life. Like most yoga traditions, Bikram yoga emphasizes the value of regular, consistent practice. The more days a week you can come to class, the better you will feel -- it's that simple. Consecutive classes really help detoxify your body and heal injuries and alignment. Advanced students are encouraged to do 30, 60 , 90, or 120 consecutive days of Bikram yoga to take their practice to the next level -- one of Bikram's mottoes that gets repeated a lot is "give me 60 days and I'll change your life."

So, I'm going to do 60 consecutive days of Bikram yoga. The most consecutive days I've done until now has been 6. This is going to be a huge challenge for me -- not so much physically, I don't think (although there will be tough days, no doubt) as in terms of scheduling, time, and priorities. I know someone else who's going to do this at the same time, so we'll have some support that way. And I've told several people in my life (and now, you, dear internet) which will keep me accountable.

Everyone already knows I love Bikram yoga, and that I do it regularly. And I usually keep track of how many times I attend class in a month, to get enough value out of my class card. But saying I'm going to do the 60 feels to me way more goal-oriented than even I usually am about it. It feels more like an athletic goal -- like training for a race or something. (Or what I imagine such a thing would feel like, never having done a race.)

So, today was the first of 60. You can expect the occasional progress report as I work my way down this path. I expect a lot of change -- physically, spiritually, mentally. I know how transformative this yoga is. I'm curious to see who emerges at the end of two months.

see what you made me do?

oh, internet - - I know how I went on and on to my friend the other day about how I have nothing to say and how I never have time to blog any more, blah, blah, blah. And then I thought I would just try to scribble something, anything. Which of course led to reading other blogs, and generally having a Grand Ol Time online, which I haven't done in ages because my study is the coldest room in the house at night time. So now it is almost 1:3o in the a.m. and I have to get up at the veritable crack of tomorrow because I have a frickin 9:00 a.m. meeting, which is something I Do Not Like but since I am not a full prof (like one I know) I can't just say that I won't be there.

But gosh, it's been fun.

what not to do

When you are on a campus visit for a faculty job:

• do not announce at the beginning of your job talk that you wrote it on the plane;
• if you use visuals, make sure they are relevant to the talk and actually necessary, not just decorative (note: I'm in a field that is strongly biased against the use of Powerpoint etc)
• do not look at the person(s) of color in the room every time you mention "diversity" or "difference"
  
• do not insult the person who's interviewing you by suddenly interrupting and asking "do you have tenure?" and "where did you go to school?"

Sigh. To continue the analogy from my last post: sometimes you wind up on a bad date that just seems like it will never end.

my department is dreaming of a wedding...

No, not literally. But we're doing some hiring right now -- or rather, we're bringing job candidates to campus for visits which are something like the equivalent of Really Over Wrought Second Dates. Blind dates, for some of the faculty who weren't part of the search and didn't even read the files of these visitors beforehand. But for the department as an entity, who has already invested some care in choosing this person and is now engaged in fantasies about what the future might hold, it feels sort of like a second or third date -- about that point where you have to figure out if there are any deal-breakers, if you think you want to go to bed with this person, etc etc. And when some people go all overboard thinking about the future, while others are just having fun.

I never really liked dating -- I've always been a relationship person. Dating was just what you had to do to get to the relationship stage. (and thankfully I don't intend to be doing any more of it!) Dating involved too much uncertainty, too much processing, too much distraction. (Can't really say this to anyone in my professional life, but you know those couple of years on my cv where I don't have a lot to show? I was busy finding my life partner. Which was really important work for me -- just not resume-building.)

So anyway, one of the visitors (and we have more to come, for another search) was so fantastic that we are all, individually and as a department, completely in love with him. He's smart, accomplished, thoughtful, energetic, nice, good-looking -- basically he seems like a completely amazing person, who's perfect for this position. Fantasies abound about how he will revolutionize the way we approach a certain area, how he will help us do more hires in the future, how he will be a wonderful resource and colleague, how he'll be my new buddy I can drink coffee with. (Well, that's mine, the last one.)

Now we just have to find out if he wants to get married to us...and only then will we find out all of his baggage...

this week I'm going to finish...

I've always been more of a starter than a finisher. I like beginnings -- I like planning things out, imagining possibilities, setting up systems or structures or spaces that will make something happen. One of the many things in the Myers-Briggs system that really resonated with me when my profile was analyzed was that one of my traits as an N (intuitive) is that I'm good at seeing the larger picture -- and not so interested in the smaller details.

When I was much younger my interest in starting things sometimes resulted in never-finished craft projects, or supplies bought for a project and never used. This wasn't always true, though -- I went through a phase of sewing my own clothes for several nerdy years in junior high -- and those things I always finished -- probably because the real-world usefullness was so evident, and because it doesn't really take that long to sew a jumper or even the most complicated kind of shirt or jacket. Nothing like a knitting project, for instance. (These are some of the many reasons that I'm not a crafty person these days -- my fear of unused yarn sitting around and reproaching me is pretty strong.)

I may be a lousy finisher, but I'm also judgmental -- so I dislike my unfinished things, and feel guilty about them.

But I realised tonight in yoga class that some of my problem might be a perceptual tendency. At the end of class, my teacher said "congratulations to the new students -- you've finished your first Bikram yoga class" -- this is something they often say when there are new people in the room. During your first Bikram class, your main goal really is just to stay in the room and try as many poses as you can. The heat alone is a real challenge for some people. So at the end of the session, the teacher usually acknowledges that achievement -- before encouraging everyone to come back again the next day. As a more advanced student, I usually focus on the coming back part. I think of my yoga practice as a continuing practice, an ongoing process of growth and change. But, after all, that ongoing practice does involve finishing class every day.

As a GTD user, I routinely break down my projects into smaller actions. But I don't usually think of completing those actions as "finishing" anything. Maybe it's a small semantic difference -- but in my mind it seems large. So much of my work, for instance, never really feels "finished" -- there's always more to read, more revisions that could be done, more classes to teach.

So this week, I resolve to try and pay attention to the things that I do finish. See how that changes my perceptions of my actions.

to my colleague

Dear Colleague,

I know you care about your students and only want to help them. Many of your students really like you in return. I know that you frequently chat with them at the coffee bar, the rec center, and the post office on campus. That's great.

But please, please, please -- would you stop giving them incorrect advice about the rules and requirements of their degree plans? Since you're not an advisor or administrator in the program, it's fair to say that you're not fully on top of all of the details that make up our large bureaucracy. When students have questions, why don't you simply suggest that they make an appointment to meet with me, or with one of our staff members -- the people whose job it is to know this stuff.

I don't like to disappoint students -- but it is my job to make sure they know what the rules really are. When a guy comes in all pumped up from his workout at the rec center and says, "I saw Dr X at the gym and SHE said I could substitute a weekend workshop in basket weaving for my language requirement" I'm the one who has to say "well, no, that's not possible. " (For SO many reasons.)

So, concentrate on your reps and sets and leave the advising to those of us in the front office.

Thanks!

graduate education

Our semester officially starts tomorrow -- I have a couple of days to continue creating my new graduate course, since it won't be until Thursday. It's an entirely new seminar, designed to dovetail with my current research interests --which makes it more interesting to create, but also means I keep rethinking the organizational structure.

I think there's a reigning assumption in the academy (at least in my field) that teaching graduate students is the privilege/luxury we all desire, or aspire towards. And if I were teaching top notch graduate students in a real Research U, maybe that would be true. Mostly I have really enjoyed my graduate classes here, but it's not a form of teaching that I privilege above all others. In fact, I think I'm a better teacher of undergraduates -- and there are many things about undergraduate education that I understand and enjoy much more. The goals for a senior-level course are much clearer to me, for instance, than the goals for a graduate course that will include everything from novice MA students to PhD students in non-literature subfields, to PhD students in my subfield.

One of the pervasive dynamics of graduate education (both postitive and negative) is that of replication: graduate advisors are often thought to be (or think of themselves as) turning out younger, newer, fresher versions of themselves. Or the department is thought to stamp you in its mold, to be turning out X number of new units per year.

But the graduate students I have here at Large Urban U are nothing like the graduate student I was, just as this department is nothing like that department. I couldn't replicate myself and my peers even if I thought that was a good thing to do (which I don't).

Our graduate students are here for very different reasons; they have often indifferent skills, & mediocre preparation upon entry; and their career possibilities are radically different. So replication of my experience would be all wrong for these studnets (although I think several of my colleagues still feel that to be their personal mission). What I find challenging is figuring out what exactly is the right thing to give them in a course.

No one ever discusses graduate-level pedagogy. We had training as graduate students in how to teach freshmen; the faculty in my dept sometimes have discussions about the majors. But graduate seminars are vested with the tweedy cloak of Tradition, of Venerable Practices that are assumed to be handed down through the academic generations.

Truthfully: I had one teacher in graduate school who was actually a good teacher. I had courses with many brilliant people, some of whom were good mentors or conversationalists -- but I mostly experienced graduate seminars as negative examples, as models of what NOT to do in a class. Graduate education in my experience was largely a process of self-education. And at some level, that's how it should be -- what students should be learning are the skills and background knowledge to enable them to do individual autonomous research. But it's hard sometimes to even know where to begin. Especially when you only have 45 hours with them in the semester.

random bits

Attended the first meeting of the year today -- because the semester hasn't actually started yet, everyone was in relaxed attire and fairly cheerful attitudes -- jokes and smiles all around.

I'm *still* tinkering with my graduate course (it's an entirely new seminar) -- I have until Thursday and I fully expect I'll be messing with it until late Wednesday.

I'm driving tomorrow to visit a friend of mine who teaches in Nearby City. We usually get together at the end of semester, but December was too hectic. I don't quite feel like taking time off, but it will be good to see her and it's only two days.

We got take out food tonight and there was something wrong with my honey's dish -- she only had a couple bites but much yuckiness is on the horizon for this evening. I think my food was fine but it kind of put me off from eating too.

scheduling

This week has something of a split personality.
It's a regular work week: you spent 6 hours Monday wearing your administrator hat, dealing with psycho student, worried instructor, and confused advisor.
No, it's still vacation: you spent Tuesday at home, sorting and organizing, working out, having lunch with gf.

Pleh. I function much better when things are more clear, once I get a schedule set up, once I face the sad end of the winter break. The nebulousness of this week always makes me kind of irritable.

I have two main goals for the next couple of days: plan my weekly schedule for the term, and set up my graduate course. So I have to make a number of decisions that will impact the next four months, without fully knowing all the possible consequences.

I've been inspired by the discussions a few days ago at Dr B's and Dr C's (and then elsewhere) about writing habits and work schedules. It's always helpful to see the concrete details of someone else's day.

My challenge today is not to think back to times in my life when I was particularly productive (that one spring semester six years ago; my last year as an undergraduate) but to think about what's actually working and not working in my schedule right now, as my life is now. My daily life is so much more complicated -- in good ways -- than it used to be. But it also means I need to make room for blocks of time to spend with my partner and the dogs.

My dream goal: to come up with a schedule that would give me evenings off. Or at least no work after 9 pm.

update

I've got a great new arrangement of the furniture in my study now:


And I'm about one-third of the way through sorting my stuff. Cleaned out all the storage drawers, and got rid of two big bags full of things. I've been dealing with objects first, then I'll tackle the paper filing, which is much easier than all the weird miscellaneous stuff that somehow winds up in my study.

boring, isn't it? but I know it will make this a better year.

Meanwhile my gf is cleaning out the garage. We are Industrious and Highly Caffeinated this weekend.

that feng shui book

Yeah, I know, it's pretty ironic that there's a feng shui book visible in the picture of my piled-on desk. (Which is now completely cleared off!) But there's a reason. I think one of the problems I've been having in this study has to do with its arrangement. I've never been fully satisfied with it, and it's not a room that feels good to spend time in. So I figured that I'd consult a couple of books for ideas prior to my moving the furniture. (The arrangement it's been in has mostly been due to the semi-random placement of the filing cabinets as we were moving in -- that plus the windows didn't seem to give me many options. But I can move the files, if I have to. And I think I will.)

I own a feng shui book that I've found helpful -- clear and easy to understand, even if her writing style includes a few too many jokes for my taste: Move Your Stuff, Change Your Life by Karen Rauch Carter. But I picked up a few others from the downtown library yesterday just to compare and see if they had workspace-specific tips that could be helpful. Anyway, it turns out that because of the shape of our house, there might be an energetic reason that my study has never been a great work spot. So there are some things I'm going to try that might help me transform the room.

I didn't even own a desk for something like 15 or 20 years, because I feared that it would just wind up covered in stacks. I don't usually sit at a desk -- I'm either at the computer table, or I'm reading/grading on the couch in the living room. But there are certain kinds of tasks that I do like to have a work surface for. So I got this desk a couple of years ago and I did try to keep it clear. But ever since we moved to this house last summer, it's been a disaster.

But all this can change. And I'm starting now.

Tryday

Today is the beginning of Super Clean Up weekend at our house. My study is in a Frightful State, so bad that I have been finding myself procrastinating on even going near the stacks of stuff I have to weed through, recycle, shred, and file.

via Lisa I saw Jennifer Crusie's picture of her workspace, which was mildly cheering. Though if you're an incredibly popular bestselling novelist it really doesn't matter if your office is a mess, now does it?

But it inspired me to my own bit of public humiliation. This is my study right now:


which includes the horrifying mess that is the desk:


and large amounts of paper crap that can probably be gotten rid of but all needs sorting through:


Tasks for today:

• deposit check at bank
• answer work emails
  
• pay bills
  
• clear the work surfaces in the study: books to shelves, papers in crate for temporary holding, random items where they belong
• sweep the floor
• rearrange the furniture (one of the many things I don't like about my workspace)
• go through stack of mail and shred/file/recycle as appropriate
• 20 minutes of sorting and filing of the work surface papers
  
• take dogs to park
• yoga class!

post MLA post

I'm a bit late in my post-MLA post -- I'm finding that these past couple of days have been some kind of time sinkhole -- I've been working out like 3 hours a day and playing with the dogs and cleaning the house and cooking and starting on my Monstrous Reorganizing Project -- and whew, there's the day. Obviously, this can't go on much longer, since I have to finish an essay in the next 10 days and prep courses and all that other brainwork.

I really enjoyed MLA this year -- as I usually do. I know so many people who are still wounded from the job market and who loathe MLA -- but oddly enough I always really like it. I've been thinking about why that is, and I think it's something tribal. MLA is the one place where I feel like I'm part of something bigger, like I belong with a group of people. Of course, as a second-generation academic, this might make some kind of sense (supposedly I attended an MLA with my parents when I was 2 1/2 but I don't remember it). But at a deeper level I generally have a strong distrust of groups, of seemingly artificial communities. I was raised without any kind of religious community, youth group, sports team, or other such organizations that probably promote social skills and a sense of belonging. I'm an introverted, overeducated nerd -- so mostly I don't walk into a room of strangers and think "ah, I fit in here."

But at the MLA, I know I fit. And I know that I fit somewhere in the middle of the spectrum -- I'm not the nerdiest, the smartest, the ugliest, the leftiest, the most fashionable. I'm right in the middle. And I very very rarely get to be middle-of-the-road average. It's kind of relaxing.

Sure, I enjoy the anthropological aspect of the convention, playing the game of "Spot the MLA people" while walking around the city, and laughing at, hugging, or hiding from various people from my PhD dept. But I'm allowed to gently mock our sartorial habits and our social skills because I'm one of the crowd. There are plenty of people at MLA who look like me, think like me, who are basically somehow kind of like me. And I guess that's why I always enjoy the convention.

Plus, of course, the obvious enjoyments. Even though I was on a hiring comittee, I was able to see old friends from grad school (this year I saw folks I hadn't seen in 10 years or more!), see old college friends who live in DC, go to some interesting panels, browse the book exhibit, and even do a little networking. I had a great time and came away feeling much more energized about this profession than I usually do here in my local territory. If only I could bottle that feeling and dose it out once a month during the semester...

2006

I'm really looking forward to the year ahead. Of course, for me the academic "year" is the one I tend to think with -- when I have to remember a particular event, I usually have to think about which year in school I was. But I'm a big believer in fresh starts (being an academic allowing us three of these per year!) and setting goals, and rituals. So the new year is always worth noting.
Looking back at 2005, I can see that it was a time of change. All of it now seems preparatory, anticipatory of the bigger changes I'd like to make happen on the horizon. But, among other things:

• My gf and I got married in February as part of a Marriage Equality protest -- a group wedding ceremony for 80 couples. But it was also much more than just a political act -- it crystallized our commitment to each other and the stability of our relationship. Looking back, it was one of the most significant moments of the year, even though it was something we decided to do only a couple of days before, without the party and planning and hoopla that usually would accompany a ceremony. Someday it'll be nice to have a big party for our faraway friends, but that's not in our budget or our priorities right now. And doing it just by ourselves actually intensified the experience.
  
• We moved to a new house in June -- again, another major life decision we made very quickly. Things in our last place became increasingly untenable (crazy landlords, construction across the street, etc) and we found this great new place very quickly. The move was chaotic and it took us many weeks to finish unpacking, but it was one of the best things we could have done. We've all been so much happier here -- we have more space, the dogs have a better yard, and the energy of our home is vastly improved.
  
• I taught summer school for the first time in an effort to come to terms with my debt load. Of course, some of the all-too-small extra stipend went to cover the deposit on our new place, etc, but it was an important act in trying to remedy a situation that makes me feel anxious and guilty.
  
• I took on a half-time administrative post in my department -- which is expected once you get tenure, but I'm doing it not simply out of a willingness to be a good citizen. I'm looking at these three years as a chance to learn how the university functions and to discover whether I'm interested in an administrative path in my future.
  
• I made a difficult and important decision about letting go of an old research project and moving forward with two new projects that reflect my current interests and expertise.
  

Thinking about these decisions and events shows me how much of 2005 was consciously or unconsciously about getting ready for a productive and energizing future. I had a lot of things that were weighing me down in 2003, 2004 -- the tenure process, some personal stuff, some blockages. And I've cleared through a lot of that and opened up some new gateways.

So, for 2006, I have a number of goals, and a couple of resolutions -- which I've always distinguished as the small daily actions that can create change -- and thereby help towards my goals.

• make my physical health a priority -- which means stepping up on my gym training schedule as well as my yoga commitment. Luckily, I enjoy working out -- that's never the issue. But the time scheduling hasn't always been easy and over the past couple of years I scaled back on the lifting in order to fit in more yoga. This year I will make more time for both.
  
• taking care of physical health also means getting back to my supplement routine. I feel better when I take vitamin and mineral supplements but ever since I changed my morning meal to all liquids, I've been less likely to take them because of stomach upset. So, duh, I have to take the supplements at midday instead. With a little planning and 28 days of effort I should be able to make this a habit.
  
• try cooking some new recipes -- maybe one a month.
• I'm really going to make the 28 day effort to do small daily writing sessions (a method I've recommend to others and watched them succeed with. So it's time to take my own advice).
  
• blog more! I'm always happier when I'm reading and writing more.
  

I'll write about my outcome-oriented goals some other day. But these steps are simple daily actions that would help make this next year a better one.

and I'm off...

...to MLA! Where I probably won't have blog access. I'll just be storing up stories and observations to report upon my return.

party day

I got a huge box of plush dog toys super cheap online this year so the dogs had a lot of fun opening their stockings!






And then my gf and I exchanged gifts and played with the dogs for several hours. Much ball tossing, rope tugging, toy disembowling, and cookie eating. Then a movie and pizza and a trip to the dog park and now we're home, all of us kind of played out but really really happy.

fever free

Throughout my illness, the dogs have been taking their jobs as nurses very seriously, staying in bed with me even when they could have been playing outside in the yard. Most of the time one or both of them have been snuggled right up against me, pinning me tightly in the bed as I slept. (They're happy about the snuggle time but I suspect they also were enjoying my elevated body temperature, since dogs run much warmer than humans do.)

Because of their natural diet, our dogs are very fresh smelling most of the time. But whenever our youngest dog gets wet (whether in the rain, or from a bath) her hair gives off this funny smell, sort of like the old-fashioned permanent smell in the old-lady hairdresser shop my mother went to when I was a kid. Acrid, bitter, sort of surprising. But as soon as she's dry,the smell goes away.

About 4 a.m. I woke up with that smell in my nose and realized that I had soaked her with my sweat as my fever broke. My clothes were drenched, the blankets were damp, but most of all G was damp, since she'd been nestled up against me. Our other dog was perched on my shoulders, keeping some of my body heat in, as my damp skin was quickly over-cooling.

So I got up and changed clothes and dried the dogs and we all went back to sleep. And today I'm much much better! Still kind of tired, but I feel more like myself. And the dogs are happy to be playing outside again, their duties as nursemaids done.

101.7

I got hit with a stomach virus yesterday -- don't know whether to blame the family party or the lunch out with friends -- both of which probably would have put me in contact with holiday germs. Ick.

I thought a lot about blogging yesterday -- but since I was only semi coherent due to my fever, it's probably just as well that I couldn't.

but hey, today I've graduated to applesauce and even a piece of toast! which seems like cuisine compared to glasses of gatorade and tea, which is all I could handle yesterday.

real thoughts to commence once I get them...

Student portraits

Student 1: He sits in the front row every day, and misses only one class all term. His writing needs some work, especially in transitioning between ideas and avoiding repetition, because he's not a native speaker. He comes to meet with me two or three times for every assignment in the course, both before and after it's graded, to go over my comments and learn about what I'm trying to teach him. He's taking several advanced level literature courses (something that is challenging for most of our native speakers, never mind someone who only came here four years ago) and we also spend time working on his close reading skills. In the schooling he received in his country of origin, students were not expected to write essays based on their own arguments or opinions; they were only supposed to learn the teacher's words by rote memory. It is a huge paradigm shift for him to try and succeed in this educational culture which prizes logical argument and clarity of expression. He learns to recognize the differences in what is expected of him here, so that even if he is not always successful in crafting his written arguments, he can analyze and learn from his mistakes. When I suggest that he read a book on improving his syntax & style, he actually does, and I can see the results as his writing improves. He brings in ideas from his philosophy class and tries to relate them to the literary texts we're reading. He is engaged with the material and actively trying to improve his writing. He was not an A-level student when he entered my class, but his commitment to fulfilling all assignments, to benefit from the opportunity to get comments on drafts, and his A+ final exam brought his final grade up to A-. A grade I was happy to give him.

Student 2: Her attendence was extremely erratic, so much so that for a while I thought she had dropped the course. (With our student population at my U, you can usually expect to lose a few students along the way, and they often don't let you know. They just stop showing up.) But then she showed up again, briefly. When she was in class, she never participated in discussion, but sat with a sneering sulky look on her face. As I totalled up the attendance records, I realized she had only been there one-third of the course days. She turned in only two of the weekly assignments. But her writing is very strong and I think she's smart. Her first paper was good enough that I checked it several times for plagiarism. Her oral presentation was also very good. Her lack of involvement in the course was all the more frustrating to me because I sensed that she was naturally a strong student. She never turned in her final paper, not when it was due nor during the grace period I allow for late work (specified very clearly in my syllabus). Her final exam was at the C level, but because she'd missed so much work, her final grade was an F. Two days after turning in my final grades, she emails me her final paper, saying "I know it's probably too late to be graded." I glanced at it, even though I'm not accepting it for a grade, and sadly, it's a very strong paper. If she'd turned it in on time, she'd have passed the course. (just barely, but she probably would have passed). If she had a medical or personal situation that required accomodation, I would have been more than happy to help her. But never once did she contact me with an explanation about her absences or her missing work. I don't know what her story really is.

One of the qualities I try to cultivate in myself as a teacher is an attitude of generosity. I gladly spent long hours working with Student 1, because that's part of my work as a teacher. I make myself available to students during regular office hours and via email. I make accomodations for students with special needs, with medical conditions, or with family situations that cause them to miss class or fall behind in their work. My courses require regular assignments to be turned in -- some of which are graded simply on a particpation basis, so that if you do them, you get full credit. So putting forth serious effort actually does improve your course grade. I don't penalize students for missing class, but point out to them that if they miss too many classes, their assignments will necessarily suffer.

I don't think, however, that it would be generous to simply grade Student 2's four-week-late paper and give her a passing grade. I've thought a lot about this over the past two days. If she had contacted me at any time during the semester with a reasonable explanation -- a medical condition, for instance -- I would have worked with her either to establish due dates for her written work and a plan to improve her attendance, or to give her the passing-Withdrawal grade. But from everything I've seen of Student 2's behavior, she's smart enough that she thinks she can get by without doing the things that are required of everyone else. She's got an issue with authority, maybe some sort of issue with being in school at all. In a small-section (30) lecture-discussion course, you can't just act the way you might in a large lecture format course. You can't just read the books and still ace the exam. Part of the work of the course happens during the class. Otherwise I could just proctor study hall every day instead of actually teaching.

I feel frustrated with Student 2 -- and I felt frustrated with her during the semester, too. I'll always feel that I could have somehow tried harder to reach her. But her performance in my class is not only my responsibility -- it's also hers.

I can see the finish line

I'm getting really close. Everything is graded, and almost everything is entered into the spreadsheet. I still have to convert some letter grades to numbers and finalize a couple of formulas that are dependent on the number of class days etc. I already combed through my email inbox for any stray response papers that I hadn't printed out and therefore already entered into the gradesheet. I'm getting really close to wrapping this up. But I lost some of my momentum at 5:45 when I knew I wouldn't be done in time to get to yoga. (And then I got sidetracked deleting a bunch of other old emails that I no longer need to keep.) For some reason, the final calculation of grades always takes me longer than I think -- even though the spreadsheet does a lot of the work. Even once I clean up the formulas, then I still have to eyeball the grades, and make sure they make sense. And then do the scantron sheet, since we're still stuck in the quadplicate paper forms era at my U. But it's really the decisions that slow me down -- is this student's participation grade really a B or an A? etc.

But the end is really, really, near. And it really wasn't too bad, since this was a light teaching semester for me.

And tomorrow is going to be the most enjoyable day off EVER. I'm going to sleep! and read! and go to yoga! and go to the gym! and go out to lunch! and maybe even catch a movie. I'm going to just totally play, all day long. Saturday will be time enough to begin working on my 9,000 projects slated for the winter break.

how to have fun on Thursday

How to have fun (or is that "fun"?) at work:

• drink SBX with extra shots in it
• change pens periodically while grading final exams
  
• be meeting in a windowless conference room when the power goes out
  
• be within six hours of wrapping up the semester . . .
  

the Wikipedia thing

I first read about the latest Wikipedia "controversies" on Monday, though it's apparently been going on for a while.

The flurry of media attention was drawn to Wikipedia because John Seigenthaler wrote an op-ed piece for USA Today criticizing the site's open-access approach to information because he had been named in an entry related to the Kennedy assassination. His essay focuses on the impossibility of tracking down who wrote false statements about him, and criticizes Wikipedia writers as "volunteer vandals with poison-pen intellects". While his personal sense of outrage is perhaps understandable, his essay clearly shows the gap between older conceptions of publishing and what the web really offers. Several things come to mind.

First, why didn't he just change the entry himself? or have one of his minions do it? (In the past few days, on the heels of this issue, Wikipedia has changed the rules so that only registered users will be able to contribute information, allowing all changes to be tracked to a particular user.)

Second, no one with any sense would take a Wikipedia article on a super-controversial (and potentially wacky) topic like the Kennedy assassination very seriously.

The man who wrote the false information about Seigenthaler has since apologized and been fired from his job. He apparently didn't think any one used Wikipedia as a serious information tool. That doesn't mean it's justifiable to write a slanderous statement as a prank. But the status of Wikipedia as an information source is somewhere between "totally non serious" and "acceptable to teams of establishment experts."

Entries on tamer stuff don't change that often and are generally pretty reliable (you want to learn who were the key names in the history of, say, watchmaking, you can quickly check Wikipedia and then go forward with your research). But certain topic stems are of course magnets for opinionated folks, and the site editors can't keep up with everything. But usually (and I don't know why this didn't happen in this case) some other opinionated writer will step in and change it again.

The head of Wikipedia has now come out suggesting that no one should cite the site, but that it should be used as a starting point for further research. He also points out that no one doing real research should be citing any sort of encyclopedia, because the kinds of information they provide are very limited and prone to error.

But that doesn't mean throwing out the baby with the bathwater is the right response either, and Seigenthaler's mutterings about how Congress "enabled" and "protects" Wikipedia writers suggest a deep distrust of new media that risks violating the free exchange of information and opinion.

I think Wikipedia is one of the great things on the web -- largely because it shows (like some other key online ventures like Ebay) that much of the time, most of the people are mostly good intentioned. The fact that volunteers with knowledge about particular topics choose to spend their time writing about them is pretty awesome. Wikipedia is also extremely flexible and dynamic, allowing it to register developments in popular culture and slang that never make it in to print or print-equivalent sources. There are topic stems that also wouldn't make it into the traditional information architecture. The web gives voice to information and opinions from a much broader range of persons than any traditional medium.

Of course the media loves controversy. So items that encourage paranoia and distrust of internet-based communication, commerce, or culture always get more play than items celebrating those things.

Seems like there's lots of teachable material in this event for instructors at all levels...

guess it'll have to be a 1000 words

It looks like this is yet another year when we won't be sending a photo holiday card. You know, the cheery picture-equals-all-the-words-not-written kind of glossy holiday card that I've been receiving from many of my friends in the past few years. I'd much rather get a photo card that just has a signature scribbled on it than a regular card that's just signed. Alas, I know that the days are long past when I could count on personal notes or letters tucked into the xmas cards. I still tend to write a few sentences at least in the cards I send -- it's one of the holiday rituals that I really enjoy. I like to receive cards, and I also like sending them. Although I've been kind of slack about it over the past couple of years, and so the number that I receive is slowly dwindling. Plus so many of us are email-only these days -- some friends I don't even have postal addresses for any more.

I like to give and get holiday cards. I've usually picked handsome arty cards or lefty environmental cards, always with the most secular message I could find.

I've never liked having my picture taken. I'm only recently a camera user & owner myself. I have very few pictures of myself past the age of ten -- I tend to close my eyes, double my chin, stare off vacantly, and generally ruin almost any picture I'm in.

So why, I wonder, have I been so interested in creating a photo card? About three years ago my gf and I managed to get ourselves and the two dogs lined up in front of the camera with its timer on, and got a semi-decent picture after several tries. It was too late in the year to actually print them and mail them (plus I was new to the whole digital photo printer thing), but I did send email holiday greetings with the picture.

That was the closest we've come. Every year we talk about taking a picture. The week before Thanksgiving, a friend was supposed to come to the park with us to get our picture -- we'd discovered that we were dressed kind of nicely that day, all by accident. But she didn't show up, the daylight was dwindling, and we had a guy we know from the park take a few pictures of us. We were so close. Unfortunately, the only pics that came out (he was a little shaky, and the dogs weren't exactly sitting precisely still) were taken from too far away -- they're not going to work for the photo card, and when cropped they're too low resolution.

And ever since Thanksgiving we've been too busy. So I think tomorrow I need to go to the bookstore and pick out some cards to send this year, without a picture. But considering that I hate the way I look in pictures, and that I don't usually want my picture taken, it is actually kind of strange that I've been wanting to do a photo card. I guess it has something to do with making my life real and visible to my long distance friends, some of whom have never met my partner or our dogs. Perhaps a kind of counterbalance to all the breeders & baby pictures that my mailbox fills up with.

Dr Grumpy

I've been buried under a stack of job files -- our searches having been somewhat delayed by the Provost's office, our incompetent clerical staff, and the endless meetings about procedures required by the U's legal departments. This is the fifth search I've been on from the hiring side of things -- and the first since getting tenure. It does feel a little bit different this time around -- but I'm not entirely sure if it's how I've changed or the circumstances of this search.

I've always felt that the work leading up to hiring decisions was one of the most important kinds of departmental service I could do -- after all, as someone relatively early in my career (and especially now that I have tenure), I have a vested interest in helping to choose people who could be my colleagues for a Very Long Time. Plus, my department includes a couple of tenured faculty who it is widely felt were not the right choices -- so I've seen how mistakes in hiring (and tenuring) can really burn a department or college.

Reading job files always simultaneously makes me feel excited (new smart people! interesting topics!) and depressed ((1) all these smart people who have lousy jobs or don't have jobs at all and (2) all these not-so-smart people who shouldn't ever have been encouraged to get a PhD at Crap University because now what are they going to do, really?). During my first couple years in the job I would sometimes also feel a bit anxious about my own qualifications -- why did I have a job when obviously there were so many other super smart more accomplished people out there. Happily for me, I don't get that anxiety any longer from the job applications. I'm far enough removed from the fresh-PhD stage of things to not feel competitive with these folks. In fact, many of them seem outrageously young and unformed to me. (I do get imposter syndrome anxiety from other things, like reading the MLA convention program, but that's for another post.)

But today, I'm feeling like Dr Grumpy. The sheer burden of reading approximately 700 pages of writing samples in a subfield that is not my own, in order to prepare for a meeting that will undoubtedly result in one colleague insisting on more meetings, another only championing the male candidates, and a third stomping out of the room in a huff -- combined with the work I still need to finish in giving & grading exams, calculating final grades, and oh, yes, grading some late papers -- has me kind of off-kilter. If I can just make it to the 20th, all will be well. But getting to the end of the semester feels like a long haul right now.

rethinking grading

I'd really thought I could get through this set of papers without blogging about them, without complaining about them. After all, I was so virtuous, I even graded some of them on Friday night. And the assignment I'm grading is a potentially interesting one that allows for creative or original responses on the part of the students. So they're not as dreary to read as some more traditional critical essays. (Also harder to plagiarise.)

But then I just didn't get much further with the grading over the weekend. It is the one thing that I truly seem to procrastinate on -- much worse than on anything else in my life. Even when it's not so painful, it's really hard to make myself sit down to do it. Especially since I was trying to grade at home -- I'd been at the office so much that I wanted to be at home with the dogs, all cozy on the couch. Which was great, but it also set me up to be distracted and interrupted.

So once I wrap up here at the office, I'm off to the cafe, where it will be warmer than my house (I hope), and where there will be anxious kids studying for the LSAT and med students doing whatever they do with flash cards. My best studying-related memories from college are all about being in places where other people are also working -- the undergraduate library's armchairs, the heavily varnished tables in the magazine room, the late-night coffees at the divey Italian place. In grad school, my best friend would come over to study -- we'd work for a few hours, breaking now and then for coffee or a snack. It was companionable but not overly distracting. I think that's the key. Working in total isolation can make me feel really put upon -- at least when it's a task I'm not really engaged with anyway.

I need to figure out a way to reframe grading as intellectual work. Because I think that's the problem -- it feels more like service, or adminstration, or other energy draining aspects of the job.

Or, maybe I can teach my dogs to grade papers for me...

ETA for EOS: 13 days

Tonight is the first holiday party we have to go to. There's the "official" one for faculty hosted by my Department's Chair next week -- but tonight is the one that a colleague holds nearly every year -- a kind of selection from the dept, faculty and grad students, are usually invited. Since she caught me in the hall and said "you're coming on Saturday, right" I kind of have to go. And most years, it's been reasonably enjoyable. I'm just rarely in the party-going spirit at this time of year -- we're still teaching classes, stacks of papers are waiting to be graded, and there's a long final push to get this semester wrapped up.

And yet, at the same time, I'm also so over this semester already. My thoughts are with next term's classes, and more urgently with the work I hope to accomplish over the winter break. I spent the afternoon with my research instead of with the papers that I ought to grade -- but it feels like that was a good choice. Because it's all too easy for me to lose contact with my intellectual self, and just let the day-to-day task oriented self run the show. Especially right now, when there are job files to read and papers to grade and meetings to attend.

Flux is fun

We went to an early matinee of Aeon Flux today, along with a few other hardcore film nerds and Friday slackers, and TOTALLY enjoyed it. The story's ingredients are familiar (philosophical issues around cloning, false consciousness, the price of privilege and comfort) but it's well done. And at a purely aesthetic level, the film is great -- beautiful art direction, costumes, lighting -- the whole look of it was very appealing to me. If you like dystopic SF with style, this is your movie. Plus, it was directed by a woman! (all too rare in SF) I can't compare it to the animated segments shown on MTV back in the day, since I didn't have a TV then and only heard about the show. But as a standalone film, I really liked it. (If you liked Gattaca, Fifth Element, Dark City, and/or Matrix 1, run, don't walk, to this one. But I certainly don't need to tell you that, if you liked those films.)

And let's hear it for kickass sexy action heroines -- we also got to see the trailer for Underworld: Evolution (the sequel), which looks equally delicious.

meetings, meetings, tra la la

As the end of semester nears, and Meeting Season is upon us -- that joyous time when each and every university, college, and department committee feels that it must hold a meeting in order to finish undone business -- comparisons between one's department and family relationships inevitably arise. Although I am not related by blood to any of my colleagues, I am, in fact, stuck with most of them, just as one is more or less stuck with one's relations. These are some of the members of my department -- recognize any of them?

• Vague Busy Dad (aka The Chair) -- um, he's Dad. Everyone obeys him but talks rebelliously behind his back.
  
• Grampa Sleepy -- he's a jolly sort of guy who snoozes in the corner of meetings until someone jostles him awake with a question about the library committee.
  
• Great-Uncle Fred -- a bitter, querolous man who begins every comment with "Well, 25 years ago, we decided..."
• Wacky Aunt Sue -- wears handmade necklaces and has been known to sing during lectures.
  
• Uncle Bill -- Terrifies the kids by always asking them "so, young man, how's your tenure file?"
• Marsha (older sister) -- Marsha was once the only princess, and the prettiest in all the land. She's jealous of those who came after her, but she still tries to be the prettiest.
  
• Joe (aka Class Clown) -- Joe is the quintessential middle child always seeking attention. He frequently interrupts discussions with off-topic (and sometimes off-color) jokes.
• Little Betty -- still a girl after all these years. She doesn't have to take responsibility for anything, because she's just so, you know, girly.
  
• Eugene the Nerd -- kind of smelly, kind of awkward, kind of sweet in his own way.
• Serious Stan and Ann -- the Twins who work hard, keep their rooms clean, and seem so perky that you just have to suspect a Deep Secret lurking somewhere.
  
• Whiny Toddler I -- he is always convinced that he needs something shiny, something that someone else has.
  
• Whiny Toddler II -- has learned that flinging himself on the ground and screaming will get attention.
• Tired Mom -- wants everyone to just settle down and agree on something.
  

And me? I'm afraid that I'm becoming The Babysitter -- the responsible older child you trust just enough to keep the little ones from burning down the place.

shark, shark -- and squid

Wifeswap has really jumped the shark. Late last night we watched Monday's episode that we'd taped -- I think the shark appeared early on in this second season, but we have kept on watching because, as I've suggested before, I found this show really interesting in its representation of domestic labor. Plus, it helped my partner and I make some changes in how we divide up that labor. So we have felt a bit loyal to the show, even though in its second season it has become more and more predictably exploitive, more like all the rest of the so-called reality shows. Recent episodes have been all about ideology (pairing the hunter with the PETA activist, the pastor's wife with the atheist) rather than the running of households. Sure, ideology is part of that -- but now they're just looking for the most extreme loons they can find. So the vegan animal rights activist wasn't just that -- she believed that staring at the sun would provide all her nourishment. Etc. Anyway, this week really was a lame episode and we are probably in the process of weaning ourselves off this show. But, if the first season is ever on DVD, it has some really great moments.

We went to see Prime, and were about 1 or 2 minutes late. So the shark must have been right on the opening screen or something. I just could not get involved in this movie -- and I have a much higher tolerance for cliched romantic dramas than does my partner. Maybe I'll watch it if I'm home sick with the flu. But there just seemed to be lots of talent not going anywhere. We lasted about 40 minutes and then surfed over to Derailed, which was very well done for what it is. Sort of an old-fashioned twisty suspense film, really -- predictable if you know the genre, but it made me jump a couple of times...

Belatedly -- we saw Squid and the Whale a couple of weeks ago -- it's probably no longer in your local theatre, but should be at the top of your rental queue. Great performances all around and full of the pain of real life. I didn't like any of the characters -- which was really the point -- your sympathy and attention are carefully distributed to the whole awfulness of family life. Really really well done.

today, no eyelashes

About 20 minutes before class, as is my usual habit, I looked in the mirror to put on a little lipstick and check that I didn't have anything stuck to my teeth. What I discovered was that I had left the house without putting on mascara. I think this was the first day ever in my teaching career that I taught without mascara, except for a couple of times when I've had my glasses on instead of contacts due to an eye irritation or infection. Wearing glasses is such an identity mask that mascara is almost beside the point. But today, I had my contacts in -- and the little bit of eyeshadow and face powder that constitutes my "professional" look. But no mascara. Which is a big part of trying to look awake, professional, and reasonably authoritative, since my natural eyelashes are so pale as to be almost invisible.

In my thirties, I began wearing less and less makeup -- I rarely wear it on the weekends, unless we're going to something especially dressy (kind of rare in our social life). Thankfully, I just don't care as much as I did as a teenager. Sure, I try to look reasonably put together -- but it doesn't have to involve makeup. Makeup is kind of fun, and I enjoy getting dressed up, but it's not really part of my casual life.

However, my professional persona involves wearing certain clothes and presenting myself in a certain way -- it's all about making myself feel like I'm at work. Putting on my teaching clothes helps get me in that mindset, which is different from the mindset I have when I'm reading on the couch wearing sweatpants. (Even if I'm reading for class.) And, eyelashes have always been one of the things I felt were helpful in creating that persona.

I wasn't especially tired or distracted this morning, or -- more disturbing -- I didn't think I was. Who knows what else I might have forgotten and just haven't realized yet? I guess I must have gotten interrupted during my getting ready process and just never looked in the mirror afterwards.

Oh well. I survived teaching without eyelashes, and no one has said anything. I guess maybe I need to add mascara to my personal drawer in my desk, where I've stashed Clif bars and dental floss and other things you never know but that you might need.

I'm back!

Yay! we're back! and we even have this evening and all of tomorrow to decompress in before having to face Monday morning. Definitely we planned the travelling well, trying to hit off days and times, and it went fairly smoothly, I suppose. But today, as it often happens when I fly through Midwestern Airport, I got pulled aside after walking through the metal detector without it going off, for a patdown screening. Why this happens to me, I have no idea. Sure, you can tell me it's just random numbers or something, but it's happened more than once to me, only at this airport. Today the screener was female, and young, which made it only slightly better that she was patting my rear, my breast, and (most horrifyingly to me) my belly. No one touches my belly except in the most intimate situations, and even then I'm not always free of tickles/grimaces/nervous sucking in. So this was pretty awful. Who cares that it's the back of her hand when she's touching you all over in the middle of the frickin airport. Uggh.

Then, on the plane, the pilot made many announcements about how terrible the turbulence would be (this was a Scare the Passengers Silly tactic I think -- he was warning us from the first minute onboard that it was Going to be Very Rough-- so when in fact it wasn't, it seemed kind of like a letdown, though one I was grateful for). About halfway through the flight, when the attendant usually makes a second trip through the cabin offering seconds on drinks, she said "I'm going to have to cut off the second beverage service because the blue liquid in the lav is about to overflow and that will eat the wires and cause mechanical problems in the plane." So no one was allowed to pee any more. This made the semi-turbulent last hour a little extra exciting.

Then we sprung the excited dogs from the kennel and came home to regroup. I've unpacked my bag, put away last week's laundry, and started some new wash -- the most disgusting thing about the entire trip was that most of my clothes reek of turkey, since I'd been cooking in my mother's house all Thursday. (She cooked the turkey -- I refuse to touch it or assist with it in any way.) Hadn't realized til we went back to the motel that night that the flesh odor was soaked through both my casual cooking clothes and the fancier clothes I'd worn for the evening's meal. Even my bra smelled like turkey. Truly disturbing.

So now it's going to be take out food and our taped episode of Lost, if our VCR worked properly in our absence. And tomorrow will be time enough to deal with all the other undone tasks looming ahead...

CinderMella

I'm at the internet workstation thoughtfully set up in the lobby of the motel we're staying in -- and I am so grateful that we are here and not on the couch at my mom's. Her new smaller place just isn't really set up for guests (esp since we have my partner's family here too) and this means we get to have a few hours of quiet private time. Because otherwise, it's Narcissist Mom 24-7.

Today I showed up at her house at 9:30 a.m. and did not sit down until I got in the car at 6:15 to dash back to the motel to change clothes for dinner, and then go back to her house. (Luckily this is a small town so nothing is very far from anything else.) I spent the day cooking, washing dishes, mopping floors, cooking, moving boxes in the garage, more washing of dishes, more cooking. Etc. My mother used to like to cook but she's older now and doesn't do much in the kitchen these days. And then of course there is the Issue of my veganism (which is going on 13 years now (plus 5 or 6 of being vegetarian before that). My mother still takes this as a personal affront. So basically I wind up doing all of the cooking, but also having to listen to disparaging remarks about vegetarian food. But everybody *ate* it just fine.

So yes, I'm tired and kind of cranky. Hey, it's holidays with family! Though actually I suppose it is going better than I could have imagined. But I'm going to need a vacation day to recover from all this togetherness.

out of town/offline

Our departure for the my mother's house is nearly imminent. (well, in about 7 hours we'll leave the house to begin the journey).

I am not exactly excited about this trip. What I'd really like is just a couple days in bed with a good book and not having to talk to anybody. But that's not an option right now.

Spotty and nonprivate internet access from there, so probably no blogging. Sigh.

But perhaps it will generate some blogworthy material: we're combining my family and my partner's, a first at an official holiday scenario. . .

how to talk to a professor

Over at lifehack, a column on "How to Talk to a Professor" from Michael Leddy, who blogs at Orange Crate Art, which I hadn't read before, but will start keeping up with. Leddy suggests five basic tips which usefully explain some aspects of academic office-hours culture to students, like greeting your professor when you walk in the door, phrases to avoid (what "will this affect my grade" really signals), and how to end the conversation.

When I was in college, at one of the "public Ivys," honors students were told over and over that we should "go talk to your professors in office hours." The idea was that you wanted them to get to know you, and that you the student would somehow benefit from chatting with them. I don't know if the same directives were issued to all students, but I certainly heard that message, and tried on a few occasions to follow it. But I often felt awkward -- like I had to make up questions to ask them, but questions that weren't in the book already or something I could research on my own. I have never been comfortable in situations where I felt I was being asked to suck up to an authority figure in any way, or where my actions might be perceived as an attempt to suck up. (Yes, this iswhy my track record with mentors has been so spotty.)

My own students usually come to office hours for one of the following reasons: they want to rewrite a paper or get assistance with a draft (usually because I've told them they should come in for extra tutorials); they are undergoing a medical or family crisis, or dropping the class; they want a letter of recommendation; or (and this is a small percentage) they are just curious about who I am.

This last group of students are the most awkward when they come in the door. They don't have clear agendas, or questions (although most have some flimsy excuse for coming in, a paper idea or something). What they want to know they can't really ask: "how does someone like you become a professor" or "how old are you" or "what is it like to be a childfree woman? So many of my students have followed their society's or culture's path and only later in life begun to question it. Many of them are confused about women professors, unsure of their qualifications. Their addressing emails to "Ms." rather than "Dr." which is the convention at my U, sometimes irritates me, but I've grown to see it as a symptom of the relative lack of women faculty on this campus, and the pervasive sexism in the larger society -- in most cases I don't think it's a conscious or personal attack on my qualifications, but a lack of awareness that faculty come in both genders. Plus many of my students don't really understand what it takes to be a professor, what the difference between a professor and a TA is, what "Dr" actually signifies.

But I don't mind answering questions about myself (within appropriate boundaries) and in fact consider it part of teaching students about academia, and about what a college degree might be good for. I'm happy to tell them where I went to undergrad or grad school, what it was like, why I became a professor, and what other kinds of work I've done. When a student wants to know those things, I know she's thinking about her own life path and what options she might have. When my LGBT students come to see me, often it's because I'm one of the few out faculty on the campus. It often matters less what we actually talk about than just being there. We chat about a movie, or a campus event, or a book one of us has read recently. That's the vague ineffable thing that's supposed to happen in office hours -- sometimes it's about defined intellectual topics -- but sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's about two people who can learn from each other just by opening up a little bit.

Because I'm shy and socially awkward by nature, office hours are kind of difficult for me too, even though I'm the powerful figure in the equation. I'm often unsure about rules for eye contact, smiles, and other interpersonal signals. So I tend to err on the side of formality rather than friendliness, just to keep everything clear and professional. But I do enjoy those rare chances to talk to students who just want to talk, who aren't there just about the grade or the paper outline.

ready and waiting ...

...for the end of the semester, that is. But since that is actually several weeks away, I will have to make do with the too-late and not-enough break that is Thanksgiving. I was a Bad Prof this year and cancelled my Tuesday classes so that I can be a Good Daughter and travel for the holiday. I hate, hate, hate travelling for Thanksgiving, so that's why we're going to leave on Tues, to try and make it a bit less awful.

So I just have to get through the next three days of classes and meetings. And then 2 weeks after the holiday. But in my mind, the term is already finished. I'm so over it already. Maybe my enthusiasm will return, but this week has been something of a low point in motivation level.

My Day: Today was the Faculty Council Meeting that Would Not End, in which no fewer than five senior administrators made an appearance. I just keep reminding myself that I'm learning about how things work at the U. But, in my second meeting of the day, we actually made a decision that will benefit students and academic advisors and make the requirements for graduating a little teensy bit more logical. So some meetings actually are useful.

An Embarrassing Reality: I am incredibly far behind in putting things into my gradebook spreadsheet. I used to be the kind of person who set up the spreadsheet the first week of class and then kept it up to date all the way along (every attendance sheet, every quiz, etc). And now I have this stack of things that have to be entered in, and the semester keeps going on.

An Achievement: In the past two weeks I have been able to properly do Dandayamana - Bibhaktapada - Janushirasana (Standing Head to Knee pose), a pose I've always had a hard time with. I'm good at backbends, but the frontal compression poses (the point of this one is your forehead must touch your knee -- your back is curved up like a cat -- it's not a leg stretch at all) are difficult for me. We do several of them in the Bikram series, because they're very good for the thyroid. I have a hard time because of my alignment, but also because, well, curving forward into your belly is kind of tough if you actually have a belly, which impedes your progress. Not to mention breasts. Anyway, miraculously, something is changing and I can now get further into the pose.

Task I'm Currently Dreading: grading Ph.D. exams.

not satire, it's true

I've been asked to serve on the Committee on Committees.

No, this is not a made-up bureaucratic extremity from a snarky academic novel. It's true.

where my yesterday went

I did not go online at all yesterday. I didn't even check email. Which turned out to be just fine, since none of my students were trying to reach me, and the only semi-urgent message, about changing the time of an appointment this afternoon, was duplicated via phone. It wasn't an intentional internet holiday -- I haven't been feeling overwhelmed by digital information-- if anything, I've been too cut off from the blogosphere etc. But I was in super clean-up mode and that wound up taking over my entire Sunday. Not only was I cleaning, but I also got rid of a bunch of stuff (some to the women's shelter donation, some to recycling, etc) and dealt with some things that had, embarrassingly, been just sitting in boxes since we moved to this house five months ago.

• washed around 10 loads of laundry, including 3 dog beds, 1 couch cover, throw pillows, cotton rugs, towels, dog towels, and clothes.
• dusted shelves and surfaces
• swept/mopped floors
• deodorized the main couch (sprinkle well with baking soda, let stand for 20 minutes, vacuum up the baking soda and all pet odor)
• applied boric acid to insect problem area
• cleaned air filters
  
• recycled many years of MLA conference programs and copies of Profession (my favorite MLA publication, but I rarely read them more than once)
  
• found shelf space (yes they're double stacked) for all the books
  
• organized half of the storage closet in my study
• consolidated tools and repair supplies
  
• weeded out some more clothes
• recycled a bunch of articles I don't need to keep now that they're available digitally
• sorted through box of miscellaneous things
  

So today I feel good about all that I accomplished, but I'm also feeling sort of tired. Not physically so much as existentially. Having things is quite a burden. And coming from a household of disorganized packrats I have to work extra hard to overcome the tendency to hang onto objects, to let papers pile up on surfaces, to put things in a box or container and then forget about it. I can be well organized within certain limits, but at home it's a challenge, since it's all my personal stuff plus a lot of my work stuff. My office at school is much better, just because I have less stuff and clearer boundaries.

girl/boy movies

Two movies I liked this weekend.

The boy movie: Jarhead, which has apparently been getting criticized for not taking enough of a stand about the current war and/or Desert Storm. But the whole thing starts off with the hero reading Camus, after all. Mendes is busy signalling his disinterest in a typical war film throughout the piece, even as he plays with those conventions: brutalizing training experiences, male bonding, etc. To me, the film is a lot about how the technology of war is changing -- and the difficulty and inevitablity of comparing every contemporary conflict to Vietnam. In this film (I haven't read the memoir upon which the film is based), the young Marines of today, having undergone existential boredom and readiness, struggle to define themselves in relation to Vietnam, the war of their fathers -- happy not to have fought, but feeling inadequate too. The acting is wonderful, particularly Peter Sarsgaard's homoerotic fixation on Jake Gyllenhaal. And the desert full of oil works aesthetically and philosophically as an existential testing ground.

The girl movie: In Her Shoes, which is far better than the typical "chick movie" (a genre I'm partial to anyway). It's got everything: sassy senior citizens, dogs, sibling rivalry, and POETRY -- honest to god reading aloud of real poems, for a purpose. Yay! says the English teacher in me. But the film viewer in me loved it for other reasons. Although it's funny in places, and sad in others, it didn't wallow. It's about sisters (which I don't have, so don't know) but it's also about friendship, and the difficult decisions in family relationships which, once made, are hard to undo or revisit. Cameron Diaz actually gets a chance to act, and Toni Collette is strong as always. A great ensemble movie.

writing group followup

Having confessed my anxiety in this space, the actual writing group experience yesterday was not as bad as I had feared. But it's still an awkward group, in part because some of us are post-tenure and others are pre-tenure -- that process casts such a long shadow over one's research decisions in the early years, and some residue remains even several years later.

What I currently see as important to think about: how this group raises issues for me about staying here, about being here, about how this job is both absolutely right for me, and also somehow not quite what I was trained for. About how everything I love about this place and this job isn't quite enough to keep my intellectual drive going -- and how hard it is to keep that going on one's own.

writing group ambivalence

In five minutes, I have to leave for a meeting of my current writing group. Formed in August, it consists of people from my department and also from a neighboring university. Not all in the same subfield or even discipline, although there are enough overlaps to help us understand each other's work.

In theory, I'm all for writing groups. I know I've benefited from getting feedback on my writing. I know I learn a lot from reading other people's drafts, and giving them feedback -- sometimes more than I get from their comments, even. And the meetings of this group (we've only meet 3 or 4 times) are pleasant, mostly engaging. On the one hand, I feel grateful for the opportunity to think about other people's topics, to discuss ideas with my colleagues, and so forth -- it's a rare monthly treat in the midst of the day-to-day obligations of the job.

But at another level, this group gives me anxiety. Every time we've met, afterwards I've been in a foul mood of insecurity and doubt. Which is not the group's fault, obviously. But now that I've recognized the pattern, it makes me less enthusiastic about going to the meeting.

I should confess that my work has not yet been critiqued by the group -- which is comforting because I've seen how polished or not other people's writing has been. But probably ups my anxiety level, too. I think my turn will come in January.

In graduate school, I had two writing group experiences, neither of them exemplary. The first was a three-person group (the fourth dropped out almost immediately) that in retrospect I think I possibly subconsciously designed in order to spend time with Ex Girlfriend A., who I had not yet started dating. (Once we started sleeping together, the group disbanded.) The third person was on her way out of the program -- by the time the group fell apart, she'd basically decided to quit ABD. So you could say the group was psychologically or personally useful, but not so great as a writing support system.

My second experience was wonderful, but it wasn't a group -- I had a dissertation buddy, a close friend who became closer as we marched each other through the dissertation process. We each read every draft word, multiple times -- a kind of intensity and support that could never be replicated outside the emotional hothouse of a top-tier PhD program. Without her, I wouldn't have finished my diss. But we weren't a group, with orderly rules and procedures and a variety of opinions.

And then in the past few years there were a couple of attempts at forming writing groups in my dept that didn't really work. And another group I was invited to, but didn't want to join, because two of its members drive me nuts.

The sad truth I now see I must confess: I simultaneously want the support of a writing group, but I also apparently am more judgemental deep in my heart of hearts than I think I should be in order to be a good group member. I wish my group could be as smart as the group I think I ought to have had in graduate school. (Not even a nostalgic wish for the past, this is some idealistic mish mash). This is the kind of perfectionism that keeps me procrastinating and insecure.

how wifeswap improved my life

I think I've mentioned before that my gf and I routinely watch Wifeswap, which pairs two families of very different temperaments/styles/beliefs and has the wives swap places for two weeks. Like most "reality" shows, this one has certain rules and rhetorical conventions that regular viewers come to appreciate. For the first week, the wife (as awful as the terminology is, the show has included same-sex couples and unmarried couples) has to follow the rules of her new family, trying to live the way they do. During the second week she gets to set new house rules, which usually means asking them to adjust their behaviors to be more like her own family's. The show always includes key scenes of the women exploring their host family's house before the family gets there (which is fascinating because how often do you get to do that??), the rule change scene, and a final wrap-up where both couples meet face-to-face. Along the way there's plenty of conflict, of course, since the show's producers pick families that are as opposite as they can find: super-conservative Christians and punk rockers, etc.

So why do we watch this show? Because it's completely fascinating and often encouraging to peek into other people's houses, to see the areas of conflict and concern that inevitably arise in dealing with household chores, budgets, and children. It's interesting just to see how other people live. There are all kinds of relationship issues that come up, too, of course, and it's been a springboard for many good conversations in our house about how we manage things. But at the most basic level, I love this show because it clearly exposes that household work is work -- work that somebody (and interestingly, it's not always the "wife") has to do. It shows just how darn difficult it is to get everybody fed, cleaned, educated, and happy.

Unlike some reality shows, which seem designed to build on the worst aspects of human character (greed, vengeance, etc), this one is premised on the notion that human beings are capable of change, and that seeing the world from someone else's perspective can teach you something. Sure, maybe it's corny or even semi-staged, but it's still doing really important cultural work, to show husbands tearfully realizing that their wives are overburdened and that they should do more at home.

And my own lesbian husband? She's improved 100 percent in her contributions to our household chores since we've been watching the show. She credits it with helping her realize that both her life and my life would get better if we could have a more equitable distribution of household tasks. My partner now does the grocery shopping, washes the dishes, changes the bed linens, mows the yard, washes her personal laundry, and sweeps the floor. I do the cooking, wash the household laundry, clean the bathroom & kitchen, vacuum & mop floors, and dust & vacuum surfaces and furniture. We're not perfect, and our house isn't immaculate. But we're doing OK, and we no longer argue about these things. So thanks, Wifeswap!

round-up

What I learned last week:

• At least two of my colleagues did not remember requesting to teach a specific course in Spring 2006 NOR receiving the Chair's letter telling them that they were assigned to said course. Now, a few weeks before Spring term begins, their panties are in a wad because they are dingbats.
  
• That I was able to summarize an entire theoretical subfield in 20 seconds for an uncomprehending audience of faculty from Engineering, Math, Business, and Pharmacy who constitute the Curriculum Committee (stage 2.5 in the process of getting some new courses approved for my Department). Not sure they really understood what I was saying, even though I was watering it down for them. But they approved the course, and that's what matters.
  
• I am on too many committees this year.
  

perks of this academic life

This morning I woke up earlyish -- it's cold at night now, so my gf and I and the dogs all pile onto the bed together. It's an awful lot of cuteness to wake up to. I managed to extract myself long enough to make some coffee, and then climbed back in to finish the reading for my afternoon classes. I got to spend three hours tucked under the comforter with a dog leaning on either side of me, drinking coffee and reading a great novel. How awesome is that?

I generally try to keep stricter boundaries -- no work reading in the bedroom -- but I make exceptions in the wintertime.