Monday, November 29, 2004

Full of heroic spirit, I'd say. 

So I was rollerblading down this little path I've found near my house that goes alongside a drainage ditch, filled with the usual ducks, seagulls, and various and sundry garbage, when up ahead I see a small animal sitting on the edge of the path. Drawing closer, the animal appeared to be a muskrat, which are usually pretty shy. We had one in the Elijah drain at NNU, and it would always disappear underwater if it spotted you. But this one just sat there, at the side of the road and completely ignored me as a rode boy. So I turned around and skated back towars it. Still it ignored me and went on placidly eating its clover. I skated a bit closer, I talked to it. It didn't matter. Nothing was going to disturb this guys dinner. So finally I kept on going down the trail, got to the end and started back. When I reached the muskrat a second time, I discovered the secret of his amazing bravery in the face of human danger. A little old lady was crouched down next to him, surrounded by about thirty birds, and was feeding him pieces of bread from her bag. From the looks of her, she probably comes by every day to feed that fat muskrat, and he was just sitting around waiting for her to show up when I rode by.


Posted by: DVE / 8:47 AM
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Thursday, November 25, 2004

Who are these rabble rousers? 

Posted by Hello
Here is a lovely picture of me and Brenna at my graduation party a few months ago. I decided to test out posting pictures on my blog, so give me some feedback about loading time and everything. I know that this one isn't particularly clear and I'm not sure why. It may just have to do with the type of picture.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. It doesn't particularly feel like a holiday for me because we're not really celebrating until tomorrow, and I'm spending most of today working on my final paper. But I realize I've neglected you, so I'm taking a bit of time out to write and play with pictures. By the way, I've had the brilliant idea to title all my posts with quotes from the Anne movies. I was watching Anne of Avonlea the other day and realized how many wonderful quotable moments there are in it (besides being glorious, beautiful, and inspiring), and I'm always so impressed at Lynette's ability to title all her blog posts with musical lyrics; so I decided that I surely know the Anne movies well enough to draw from them for my blog posts, at least for awhile. We'll see how long I can keep it up. (It helps that I can rent them whenever I want from Hollywood for free).

Guys, I only have two weeks left of school. Is that not amazing? Of course, I feel a little downhearted when I realize that I have two whole terms like this one before the year will be over, but I'm not thinking about that right now. I'm just savoring the fact that it will be Christmas break in just two weeks from today, and I will be on a plane headed for Nampa and bliss.

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Posted by: DVE / 2:33 PM
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Friday, November 19, 2004

Yesterday, as soon as I finished typing that last post, I went down the road to a little place near campus called Roma's Cafe, and met some other girl graduate students for a meeting. It was pretty random--a girl in my Intro class invited me, and it was just being started by a fourth year PhD student. But I have to say, it was one of the most encouraging things I've done since I've been here. Those of us who are new were able to talk about some of our issues and problems with the program, and the older students told us that they too had had crappy first terms, even first years, too. They told us that "you can't possibly do all the reading for all of the seminars, so just know that nobody does that." And that we don't have to be the experts in every single class we take. That seminars are about learning from other people, not showing off what you know, however much it may seem that way. That the professors don't actually want us to fail. That other people are also feeling unsmart and discouraged and intimidated. That we will make it.

And for the first time since the day I started grad school, I walked back to my car on a Thursday afternoon feeling peaceful, confident, and hopeful.

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Posted by: DVE / 8:47 AM
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Thursday, November 18, 2004

Hooray!!! I just finished the last normal class period of the class from hell. All that we have left are a library trip next week and our seminar presentations at the end of the term. Hooray! And again I say, hooray! There are so many things that I hate about that class, but one of the worst was the chairs in the classroom. There really was no position that my butt could be in relation to the chair that was comfortable--slouching, straight up, on one hip, sideways--they were all torture.

Today in class, while the visiting professors droned, I amused myself by imagining the faces of people around me (especially the professors) without noses. I highly recommend this pasttime as an amusement if you are ever in a boring situation, except, be careful. I very nearly laughed out loud, and finally had to stop because my face was twisting into strange contortions trying to hold it in. It was sort of like the times in Tammy's classes when I would think of something amusing, and smirk, and accidently derail her from wherever her train of thought was going.

So, having quit the faces thing, I started diagramming sentences from the professor's article, which is an enlightening activity, since it shows exactly how convoluted the style of their writing is. For example, "The decline of confidence in rhetoric's ability to describe or improve the power to reason and the consequent disqualification of rhetoric as a means to settle intellectual controversies played themselves out in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries." Now seriously, what can you do with that sentence, other than try to diagram it? (I take great pleasure in the knowledge that when Tammy reads this post, she will not be able to live with herself until she has successfully diagrammed that sentence, which is in fact quite difficult to do. Try it some time.)

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Posted by: DVE / 3:32 PM
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Wednesday, November 17, 2004

The other night I happened to look out my kitchen window (which, sadly, is not over the sink, like all kitchen windows should be) and noticed a spider building a web on between the roof and my neighbor's wall. Generally I kill spiders when I see them, as you all know, but this spider was illuminated by the lamp outside, as was the web, so I was getting a particularly good view of the whole web-building activity. And since there was a nice, sturdy pane of glass between me and the spider, I decided to sit and watch it for awhile: spin, attach, clamber, spin, attach... it was pretty cool. And it was interesting that only some of the strands reflected the light--the sticky ones, I assume. And every once in awhile, a moth would come fluttering towards the lamp out of the darkness and I'd hope it would get caught, so I could see what would happen. Of course, I was punished for my interest in the spider by having a particularly scary spider dream that night, and now that the web is pretty much in tatters, I think I'll probably go sweep it down today. Its much less fascinating in broad daylight.

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Posted by: DVE / 8:48 AM
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Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Grocery stores are dangerous places for me this time of year. Aside from my documented obsession with talking on the cell phone while shopping, I am so tempted by all the holiday cooking materials. Today I bought two rolls of paper towels with Christmas trees and ornaments on them, which made me very happy, but I was particularly drawn to the table in the center aisle, which was loaded with cocoa, evaporated milk, cans of pumpkin, marshmallow creme, coconut, corn syrup, chocolate chips, vanilla--all the special ingredients you need to make the really scrumptious holiday treats. Mmmm--visions of almond roca dance in my head. And don't even bring up the canister of green and red sprinkles. I only just barely escaped with my wallet intact.

Also, I would like to celebrate the fact that I turned in my Ethics paper today and gave my presentation on it. Of course, the professor's reaction was unreadable as is everything else about him, but my fellow classmates liked it, which I think is a good sign. In any case, it's over, which is good no matter what grade I get. Those of you who have talked to me on the phone over the last week know that I was just barely holding it together over this paper and the class in general. At least now all I have left to worry about is my final paper, which isn't going to be half as scary.

Isn't it wonderful that Christmas is coming? I think I'm looking forward more to Christmas than I have for many years. (Hmm, now why might that be?--I'll leave you all to puzzle it out.) Caroling, gingerbread houses, trees with lights, frosty starry nights, picking out the perfect presents, candlelight services, no school... these are a few of my favorite things...

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Posted by: DVE / 8:15 PM
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Why is it that bad things always choose the worst possible time to happen to you? Now, it is true that I often leave my headlights on and burn out my car's battery--far more often than is good for my care, I'm sure. But yesterday, when I was already stressed out about this Ethics paper, was not a good time for it to happen.

I was walking back to my car, with my arms full of library books as usual; I rummaged through my pockets for my keys, pushed the "unlock" button, and ... nothing happened. Of course, I've done this often enough that I know what's happened. So I unload all my stuff into the car, and walk all the way back to the traffic office and beg them to come jump my car for me. I walk back to my car and wait for my rescuers to show up. Pretty soon this old guy in a truck comes along, pulls out a box (apparently filled with electricity) attached to jumper cables, and hooks it up to my battery. Well, we wait there for about twenty minutes, continually trying to start my car. No luck. The best I can get is a clicking sound. So another old guy in a truck comes along with another box and hooks that up. Still no cigar. "Sorry" they say, "you're engine is too big for us to jump. Maybe you should go home, get some baking soda in warm water, come back, unhook those black things on the top of your battery, soak them for awhile, and then see if your car will start." Hmm, I think. Take a half-hour bus ride home, a half-hour ride back, only to fumble around inside my engine with a wrench by myself, probably getting electrocuted in the process, in the hopes that maybe then it will start? I think not.

And I'll admit that at this point in the day, I might have shed a few tears. My precious time for writing my paper was slipping away, I was starving (it was about 2pm by now), I had no one within an hour's drive to call, nor any cell phone to call with, and no idea what to do. Well, finally i tried to compose myself and walked to the nearest building to try to find a pay phone in order to call some rescue company who will require one of my limbs, or perhaps my firstborn, as payment to jump my car. (Somehow, whenever I actually need my cell phone, I find I've left it at home; it's only when I want to talk to my friends at the grocery store or something equally as frivolous, that I actually have it with me.) "Sorry," the people in the Alumni office told me, "no phone here. Try the market across the street." So I walked towards my beloved bakery, looking for a phone, and notice that a bit further down the road is a car shop. Can't hurt to try, I thought, hurried over, and asked the guy at the front desk. "Please, please, please jump my car." (Steph, I thought about you when I was standing in this office trying not to cry, because I knew you would sympathize with me about being so embarrassed about crying in public, but being so frustrated that you just can't help it. The poor guy looked pretty nervous too, and wouldn't look me in the eyes when he agreed to help me.)

So he calls up one of his little go-fers, who takes me back to my car, also with one of those darn boxes. I warn him, "I don't think this will work--two other guys already tried the box." "Don't worry," he says, "I used to jump my suburban with this thing all the time." Ah, a man after my own heart. "Whatever you say." So he hooks up the box, and lo and behold, it starts, right away, no problem. And do I owe him anything? Oh no, no charge. At this point, I'm feeling pretty grateful to the kid with the box, but also ready to strangle the two old guys who kept me sitting here for a half-hour with two half-charged boxes. "You're wonderful" I tell the kid and make plans in my head to bring him coffee and a marionberry scone one of these mornings. Crisis averted. This time.

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Posted by: DVE / 8:35 AM
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Friday, November 05, 2004

So the other day it was really really rainy here--more than usual, that is. It poured all day, and when I got back to my car after classes, I realized that I was now parked in a lake. The parking spot sloped down towards the curb, and I was parked head-in, so all four of my doors were surrounded by a good two inches of water. To make matters worse, I was wearing my old brown leather shoes, which are beginning to fall apart and definitely would not survive a trip through the lake to my car. What to do, what to do? Well, thou knowest me but little well if you haven't guessed that I rolled up my pant legs, took off my shoes, and waded to my car in my stocking feet. And yes, it was quite cold. But, really, what other choice did I have?
(I think what I need are some old fashioned galoshes--isn't that a wonderful word, by the way: galoshes, galoshes, galoshes.)

And here are some things that aren't worth full paragraphs by themselves, but I'm going to put them on my blog anyway to fill up some space:
--Last night I was eating some of my leftover Halloween candy and came across a KitKat without any wafers in it--just chocolate. I hate that.
--The bakery near the U of O has the most amazing marionberry scones for only $1.50. They're huge and I get one probably three times a week. They also have lots of other yummy-looking things, but the scone just always seems to be the thing I'm craving, so that's what I always get.
--The library at the U of O has a spiral staircase in the center, with little light fixtures beneath the railing above the steps. I noticed the other day that if you look closely, these lights are in the shape of people's faces. Freaky.
--I strongly feel that everyone in the world should go out and by Eva Cassidy's cd, Songbird. It is too lovely for words and it always makes me happy--kind of like ice cream.
--The road that I take to get to and from school every day has been under construction since I got here. They're working in the center of the road, so you have to merge over to the right lane, which means that mid-afternoon it gets pretty backed up. And one of my biggest pet peeves ever is when people speed ahead of everyone else in the left lane and then merge over at the last second. Its like cutting in line at the drinking fountain. I think some people missed the first grade lesson where you learn you're not the center of the universe.
--The trouble with being at school all day is that sometimes I feel like I'm carrying all my possessions on my back, like a turtle. I have all my books for classes, my lunch, my breakfast, my coffee, a waterbottle, a coat and scarf, any extra library books, and extra clothes from working out. What I really need is a grocery cart to push around wherever I go.

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Posted by: DVE / 8:28 AM
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Thursday, November 04, 2004

Well, Steph, just for you, I'm going to post twice in one day, because I, too, am glad to be blogging more often. And because I need to vent my frustration over my Intro to Grad Studies class. The way assignments in that class work is this: Professor assigns paper using the vaguest terms possible, downplaying the seriousness, need for research, and length of the assignment. Student asks clarifying questions. Professor responds with further vague comments, essentially saying nothing new. Student goes home, follows instructions as much as possible, considering their intangibility, turns in paper. Professor returns paper with extremely detailed, extensive comments and suggestions about how the student "ought to have done this" and requires it to be rewritten. Student drowns sorrows in a Mandarine chocolate ice cream cone.

Furthermore, I've decided that all my fears and anxiety about grad school are emanating from that class. I start off my week pretty upbeat. My Monday class always goes well, but by Monday night I'm beginning to build up some stress about the intro class as I finish up my homework for it. Tuesday morning I get my inner strength beaten down for four hours in the writing lab and come to the class already tired, only to spend 80 minutes feeling like a complete idiot who doesn't know the meaning of phrases like "hegemonic genderization" and "pan-aestheticization." On Wednesday I begin to feel a bit better--sometimes I go to Brenna's volleyball games which makes me feel like a real human again, and then on Thursday I beat my brains against wretched student papers for hours and then go to listen to my peers ask thoughtful, challenging, insightful questions to articles that I barely comprehended. When Thursday is over, it feels like the weekend already because I only have my fun class on Friday, so I can begin to recover and work on next Tuesday's homework. I will be very glad when this term is over and I can enroll in some classes where we actually read things like novels and poetry. You know, literature. I've almost forgotten what it is.

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Posted by: DVE / 4:04 PM
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Pretend its still Halloween, which makes this post more or less Okay 

I'm starting to get used to having use the Internet on public computers at the library. I now always remember to check the "Do Not Remember Me" box whenever I have to fill in information. And I've learned that the best time to come is at 8:00 when they open and there's hardly anyone here. It's probably best not to have the Internet in my apartment anyway, because Spider Solitaire is enough of a distraction. If I also had the temptation of Homestar Runner, I'd never get anything done. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit this, but you know how when you've spent the day doing something unusual like ice skating or whatever, and you go to bed, close your eyes, and still feel the motion of ice skating. Well, when I've been playing Spider Solitaire, I close my eyes and see little playing cards moving around behind my eyelids. Don't laugh.

Also, I don't know if I've ever mentioned before how much I love the graveyard that sits right on the edge of the U of O campus. It's quite big, several acres at least, and often I walk through it on the way to the library or back to my car. It's filled with very old gravestones--all from the 1800's, which makes it more interesting than sad, I think. I like to look at the names and inscriptions, and it makes me feel like Anne in Anne of the Island, when she lives in a boarding house next to a graveyard and goes their to study and to relax. Well, I haven't gone their to study yet, but only because its too cold and there aren't any benches. I don't think I could bring myself to sit on a gravestone--its not like I get freaked out by graveyards, but still. But then again, in Rainbow Valley, the kids sit, stand, dance, and everything else on the gravestones behind their house, don't they? Speaking of which, maybe its just because I've never actually seen someone buried, but I always have the sense that the bodies are lying just beneath the surface in graves, which is why I never walk directly over them (rather than from a sense of sacredness, or whatever.) Of course, I know they're six feet down, but I still feel like they're just barely beneath the layer of grass. I think this comes from too many movies where the ghostly hand reaches up from beneath the gravestone to grab the ankles of the hero or heroine. In any case, it doesn't particularly scare me, I just like the romance of it. (I watched Ghost the other day, which means I'd actually like to meet a ghost one of these days, especially if he looks like Patrick Swayze.)

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Posted by: DVE / 8:38 AM
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Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Some of you may know that I work in the writing lab at the U of O tutoring students in their writing skills... or rather wishing I could tutor students in their writing skills. What I end up doing is proofreading for ESL students. Every day. For four hours. "It's 'we send', not 'we sends'" "the word 'application' needs an 'an' in front of it" "the word after 'every' should be singular, not plural" and so on. Actually, though, those are the easy ones. The worst is when you have a sentence like, "Student to UO have need to buy many ticket have not enough" and you are faced with a choice: partially fix the sentence and send them away knowing that it is wrong, rewrite the sentence for them feeling uneasy about plagiarism issues and the fact that fact that you are supposed to be a tutor not an editor, or explain to them that they need more help than you can offer and then spend the next five minutes arguing with them about why you cannot do what they want you to do, which is make their paper perfect. This is a decision I face ten times every Tuesday and Thursday. No choice is completely satisfactory, and today I mostly made the last one, with the result that there were many, many people mad at me.

And, somehow, they often are still able to get me to proofread their papers--they're quite sneaky. If I say, "We don't do editing down here in the writing lab. Our goal is to work on you as a writer, not making your paper perfect. So if you have a specific problem you want to work on, like your thesis, or organization, I'd be happy to help you with that," they say, "I need help with my grammar."

"Any specific problem?" I say.

"Um, articles and prepositions" they say, "and awkward sentences and word usage." And then halfway through they ask me if anything else has been wrong so far. And what do I end up doing? Going back and fixing all their problems. Arggghhh! It's so frustrating! Not to mention tedious as watching paint dry. And they get upset if you can't get through their whole four page paper in thirty minutes.

I'm getting better though. At the beginning of the semester I would just do it without complaint. Now I'm getting sick of it and getting tougher (read: meaner) and sending them away more often. The problem is if I've helped them before, then they remember that and say "But you did this for me last time..." I can't win.

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Posted by: DVE / 1:12 PM
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Monday, November 01, 2004

Things that are Scary 

Last night I was able to experience a holiday tradition that most Americans have enjoyed every year since they grew too old to dress up in costumes and beg for candy: dressing up in a costume and handing out candy! That's right, having lived out in the country for 18 years and in dorms for 4 years, I had never been trick-or-treated before. But last night I was, and boy was I ready. I had my kimono that Dad brought me from China, my black wig from last halloween, and a bag full of Kit Kats and Reese's Cups. I lit up my pumpkin, turned on my porch light, and waited for the munchkins to arrive. I must admit that I was a bit worried that no one would come, since I live in a shabby apartment at which I would not let my own kids trick or treat, if I had any, but they did come--little miniature witches, cats, vampires, a dead, gothic rollerblader, and various and sundry other unidentifiable creatures (and, strangely, one middleaged lady, with no kids and no costume, hmm...) In any case, it was a fantastic halloween, topped only by two years: last year, when I got to be Persephone, and the year my friend Melinda and I dressed up as Siamese twin clowns, with two heads, two arms, and three legs.

Also, I feel bound to tell you all that Stephanie successfully convinced me to sign up for National Novel Writing Month with her, so I guess I'll be attempting to write a novel over the next month. And no, none of you will be reading it (unless you sign up too :).
Posted by: DVE / 10:28 AM
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