Twitter Updates


- PhD. Comics
- HomeStarRunner
- Snow Monkey Plum Tea
- JK Rowling's Site
- The Leaky Cauldron
- AustenBlog
- Nerdfighteria
- Family
- Cole's Pictorials
- Daily Capriccio
- Sister By Your Side
- High School Friends
- Creature Bug
- The Amazing Tater D
- It's the Pitts
- Jen's Page
- Little Rider Baby
- College Friends
- Not For the Life of Me
- A Kindled Mind
- Mutterings and Musings
- African Heart
- The Wandering Palate
- Wonder Woman's Rainbow Brite
- Students
- Simply Danae
- Sassy's World
- Blonde's Brilliant Brain
- Lips of Minty Roses
- My Ever-Changing Destiny
- The Epic Journey
- Dreamt-Of Reality
- Your Complete Guide To...
- Other People I Like
- Owlhaven
- Do Thy Research
- PenBitten
- Brooklyn Arden
- 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
- 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
- 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
- 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005
- 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005
- 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
- 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005
- 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005
- 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005
- 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005
- 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005
- 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006
- 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006
- 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006
- 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006
- 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006
- 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006
- 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006
- 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006
- 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006
- 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006
- 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006
- 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006
- 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007
- 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007
- 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007
- 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007
- 04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007
- 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007
- 06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007
- 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007
- 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
- 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007
- 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007
- 11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007
- 12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008
- 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008
- 02/01/2008 - 03/01/2008
- 03/01/2008 - 04/01/2008
- 04/01/2008 - 05/01/2008
- 05/01/2008 - 06/01/2008
- 06/01/2008 - 07/01/2008
- 07/01/2008 - 08/01/2008
- 08/01/2008 - 09/01/2008
- 09/01/2008 - 10/01/2008
- 10/01/2008 - 11/01/2008
- 11/01/2008 - 12/01/2008
- 12/01/2008 - 01/01/2009
- 01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009
- 02/01/2009 - 03/01/2009
- 03/01/2009 - 04/01/2009
- 04/01/2009 - 05/01/2009
- 05/01/2009 - 06/01/2009
- 06/01/2009 - 07/01/2009
- 07/01/2009 - 08/01/2009
- 08/01/2009 - 09/01/2009
- 09/01/2009 - 10/01/2009
- 10/01/2009 - 11/01/2009
- 11/01/2009 - 12/01/2009
- 12/01/2009 - 01/01/2010
- Acting
- Ambitions
- Anedotes
- Battlestar Galactica
- Beach
- Books
- Buffy
- Car Trouble
- Christian sub-culture
- Christmas
- Church
- Coffee
- College Life
- Controversy
- Cooking
- Dentists
- Doctors
- Dogs
- Dreams
- Eugene
- Exercise
- Fiction
- Garden
- Grad School
- Grammar
- His Dark Materials
- Harry Potter
- Lent
- Literature
- Memes
- About Blogging
- Miss Kitty Fantastico
- Movies
- Moving
- Nampa
- Neighbors
- NNU
- Oregon
- Pictures
- My Poems
- Poetry
- Quizzes
- Rants
- Scrabble
- Shakespeare
- Siblings
- Spiders
- Sports
- Summer
- Tea
- Teaching
- Thanksgiving
- TV
- Used Bookstores
- Vermin
- Video
- Violin
- Vocabulary
- Writing
- Writing Lab
Thursday, September 29, 2005
I want to be the person who drives the little go-cart and waters all the flower baskets downtown.
Labels: ambitions
0 commentsWednesday, September 28, 2005
So, hmmm, the last posts brought in a few interesting responses, as expected. I'm also thinking about posting some other writing I did last year and the year before regarding faith, God, the spiritual journey. Would that be weird? Would you, readers, prefer if I stuck to complaining wittily about grad school or are a few confessional posts here and there acceptable? (Note how suddenly I'm all insecure about my readership, as opposed to post number one in which I said essentially, "I'm going to post what I want and if you don't like it, leave.") :)
As for my own classes, they're.... ok. My Spenser (The Faery Queen) class has some interesting secondary readings, I think, but the professor is dry as dust. If any of you receive a handwritten letter from me over the next 9 weeks, chances are it will have been written in that class. My Married to the Nation class looks fairly interesting, although I'm less excited about the secondary reading. The fun thing about that class is that we're looking at some Victorian texts, which will be sort of in my area, which is a rare thing at this University. I'm pretty much having to cobble together my own degree, I think, since hardly anyone here teaches the Victorians, and certainly not Victorian poetry. Poor Tennyson. So overlooked. (I guess you make up for it as an undergraduate.) The teacher of Married is Indian, which means a fun accent, which can certainly help prevent lecture boredom, at least for me. And she's very animated and interesting, and something else that's hard to describe: a sense of shared amusement, so that she can show the problems with your arguments in a funny way and still make you feel that she's laughing with you at your ineptness and not at you. I'm not really sure how she pulls it off.
And then there's the class where they hold our hands through our first term of teaching 121. Which reminds me a lot of the Education department at NNU. And also the prof laughed at me today, which made me mad. I really hate being laughed at.
H and I are putting our office together. We have windows, which is lovely. Also a very nice bookshelf and decent desks. There's my Moulin Rouge poster, of course. And I'm going to bring in my teapot and accessories so that I'll be all set to spend a rainy afternoon there grading papers. :)
As for my own classes, they're.... ok. My Spenser (The Faery Queen) class has some interesting secondary readings, I think, but the professor is dry as dust. If any of you receive a handwritten letter from me over the next 9 weeks, chances are it will have been written in that class. My Married to the Nation class looks fairly interesting, although I'm less excited about the secondary reading. The fun thing about that class is that we're looking at some Victorian texts, which will be sort of in my area, which is a rare thing at this University. I'm pretty much having to cobble together my own degree, I think, since hardly anyone here teaches the Victorians, and certainly not Victorian poetry. Poor Tennyson. So overlooked. (I guess you make up for it as an undergraduate.) The teacher of Married is Indian, which means a fun accent, which can certainly help prevent lecture boredom, at least for me. And she's very animated and interesting, and something else that's hard to describe: a sense of shared amusement, so that she can show the problems with your arguments in a funny way and still make you feel that she's laughing with you at your ineptness and not at you. I'm not really sure how she pulls it off.
And then there's the class where they hold our hands through our first term of teaching 121. Which reminds me a lot of the Education department at NNU. And also the prof laughed at me today, which made me mad. I really hate being laughed at.
H and I are putting our office together. We have windows, which is lovely. Also a very nice bookshelf and decent desks. There's my Moulin Rouge poster, of course. And I'm going to bring in my teapot and accessories so that I'll be all set to spend a rainy afternoon there grading papers. :)
Labels: grad school, teaching
0 commentsMonday, September 26, 2005
Us academics and our double standards...
(I began writing this last week, but didn't have a chance to finish and post it since I was so busy with class prep, etc. Anyway, here it is, referring to 9/22)
When I first decided to attend this university, I knew that it was arguably the most liberal (in the political sense, this time) campus in the Pacific Northwest. I decided to attend anyway, meet individuals open-mindedly, eschew stereotypes, and prove myself as a thoughtful, non-judgmental, intelligent, Christian academic. I found that without exception, my fellow grad students were respectful of my beliefs, valued my opinions, and became my friends. However, in some classes (though not all), the professors assumed a left-wing, secular audience and often referred to "the religious right" in derogatory terms, magnifying their paranoia and downplaying their intelligence and critical thinking skills.
Today, my friend H gave a paper in our Composition Conference, arguing that as an undergraduate at the UO, she had repeatedly experienced professors rigorously interrogating students with conservative views while accepting students' liberal opinions without question. As a graduate student now, she realizes that such a habit hurts all students: it silences conservative students, who perceive the hostility directed toward them, and limits the learning of liberal students whose reasons are not challenged, though they may be just as nebulous as conservatives'. She gave an example of a time that this had happened to her and also a time when she herself had been guilty of the same bias. She brought in support from Derrida (which I was frankly impressed by) and all in all gave a great, academic, fair-minded presentation.
Well, when all four panelists had spoken, it was question time. The first question was directed to H: a philosophy grad student and instructor asked the following: "In this world of moral relativism, is it not our ethical responsibility to interrogate conservative students more rigorously, since their opinions are based on logical fallacies." (Hmm. You have to admire the purity of that.)
The second question was from an English grad: "H, I've heard you grind this ax before. Forgive me, but is it possible that you're making this argument because you feel outnumbered?"
"No--" she began, and he interrupted with, "Are you a conservative?"
"No, I'm not," she answered, and he apologized for being mistaken but didn't take back his other comment. Anyway, after that, the responses became more respectful, but they all still centered around H's presentation rather than the others'. And in fact, after the panel many other students came up to H and told her they appreciated her addressing the issue, etc.
Now, before I comment on this experience, let me share another one, which happened later in the day.
The final panel was made up of professors, rather than students, and the writer of the textbook for all the University's composition courses was the first speaker. He opened with a "joke": "I think there should be a new committee in the federal government," he said. "It would be called 'The Critical Thinking Committee' and its job would be to monitor the level of critical thinking. It would be made up of gays and lesbians and it would commission a task force of radical environmentalists, who would go out and kidnap all the Paranoid Religious Right and take them to Area 51, where a chip would be implanted in their brains that would cause them to think that war is bad, Bush is crazy, aliens aren't real, school vouchers are a bad idea, and women are people. But the most important thing this implant would do is force all the Paranoid Religious Right to accept reason as the basis for critical thinking and examine all sides of an issue rationally."
Now, here's the thing. I'm certainly no champion of right-wing fundamentalism; frankly, Dobson makes me a little nervous and Bill Gothard makes me want to run for cover. H, when I expressed my frustration over the speech to her, said that she dealt with such comments by telling herself that they aren't really about her. She's not in that targeted group. She's a different kind of Christian. But if I've learned anything from this past couple years of spiritual upheaval, it's that if I choose to be a Christian, I belong to the Christian community whether I like it or not. I may not agree with all of its members, but they are my community, along with those I see more eye to eye with.
However, I also belong to the academic community, one that prizes open-mindedness and works to overcome bigotry and stereotyping. And as my experience in this panel illustrates, one of the last stereotypes left standing in academia is that of the aggressive, judgmental, paranoid, ultra-conservative, women-, minority-, and homosexual-hating Christian fundamentalist. The very fact that this speaker did not differentiate between "those of the religious right who are paranoid" and "the religious right, which is paranoid" suggests that he was perpetuating this stereotype. Furthermore, the responses of those two grad students towards H show how blind academics can be to their own, dare I say, bigotry. And when conservatives or religious individuals speak up to defend themselves, they are "too sensitive" or "preachy."
Frustrating as all this is, what really angers me is that this was presented in a formal public forum, to a varied audience, at a conference dedicated to inquiry and critical analysis, by an author whose book urges readers to "acknowledge the possibility of other views being just as reasonable as our own." Essentially, he implied that I, as a member of the Christian community--the so-called Paranoid Religious Right, am unable or unwilling to think critically. And yet, I have spent a year in this graduate program and have proved my ability to succeed as well as anyone. Moreover, I am one of the instructors who will be taking his book and representing him and his ideas to freshmen students over the coming year or two. And if an unspoken "present company excluded" were implied in his speech, he still ridiculed my religious community, dismissing anything they might have to offer to public discourse, thus contradicting his own definition of "ethical argument."
*sigh* I'm debating writing an email to him--albeit an email that is calmer and less rant-like than this post--expressing my frustration with the inappropriateness of his anecdote and the double standard it perpetuated. After the session, I vented to a few of my classmates, all of whom were likewise troubled by the speech. Which suggests at least that I'm not completely off-track here. We'll see.
On this topic, see also the post just previous to this one, which I wrote last winter, but really didn't have the guts to post until now.
([...and as promised, the psycho neighbor transcripts] "Leave me alone, Eric. Just shut up. Ok? Just shut up. I was worried sick. You left your ****ing phone, and therefore I'm blaming you. You know your cousin is ****** fifteen, why would you expect her to do anything ****** responsible. No! Shut your *****. Don't ever talk to me like that again. If you're such a big ******* boy, why don't you... no, you shut up. Shut up. Oh, aren't you cute. Good, you know, blame your cousins. No, blame yourself. I just find it highly coincidental that two, three seconds after I called, .... said 'no, we don't know where he is.' Forget that ****** party.")
When I first decided to attend this university, I knew that it was arguably the most liberal (in the political sense, this time) campus in the Pacific Northwest. I decided to attend anyway, meet individuals open-mindedly, eschew stereotypes, and prove myself as a thoughtful, non-judgmental, intelligent, Christian academic. I found that without exception, my fellow grad students were respectful of my beliefs, valued my opinions, and became my friends. However, in some classes (though not all), the professors assumed a left-wing, secular audience and often referred to "the religious right" in derogatory terms, magnifying their paranoia and downplaying their intelligence and critical thinking skills.
Today, my friend H gave a paper in our Composition Conference, arguing that as an undergraduate at the UO, she had repeatedly experienced professors rigorously interrogating students with conservative views while accepting students' liberal opinions without question. As a graduate student now, she realizes that such a habit hurts all students: it silences conservative students, who perceive the hostility directed toward them, and limits the learning of liberal students whose reasons are not challenged, though they may be just as nebulous as conservatives'. She gave an example of a time that this had happened to her and also a time when she herself had been guilty of the same bias. She brought in support from Derrida (which I was frankly impressed by) and all in all gave a great, academic, fair-minded presentation.
Well, when all four panelists had spoken, it was question time. The first question was directed to H: a philosophy grad student and instructor asked the following: "In this world of moral relativism, is it not our ethical responsibility to interrogate conservative students more rigorously, since their opinions are based on logical fallacies." (Hmm. You have to admire the purity of that.)
The second question was from an English grad: "H, I've heard you grind this ax before. Forgive me, but is it possible that you're making this argument because you feel outnumbered?"
"No--" she began, and he interrupted with, "Are you a conservative?"
"No, I'm not," she answered, and he apologized for being mistaken but didn't take back his other comment. Anyway, after that, the responses became more respectful, but they all still centered around H's presentation rather than the others'. And in fact, after the panel many other students came up to H and told her they appreciated her addressing the issue, etc.
Now, before I comment on this experience, let me share another one, which happened later in the day.
The final panel was made up of professors, rather than students, and the writer of the textbook for all the University's composition courses was the first speaker. He opened with a "joke": "I think there should be a new committee in the federal government," he said. "It would be called 'The Critical Thinking Committee' and its job would be to monitor the level of critical thinking. It would be made up of gays and lesbians and it would commission a task force of radical environmentalists, who would go out and kidnap all the Paranoid Religious Right and take them to Area 51, where a chip would be implanted in their brains that would cause them to think that war is bad, Bush is crazy, aliens aren't real, school vouchers are a bad idea, and women are people. But the most important thing this implant would do is force all the Paranoid Religious Right to accept reason as the basis for critical thinking and examine all sides of an issue rationally."
Now, here's the thing. I'm certainly no champion of right-wing fundamentalism; frankly, Dobson makes me a little nervous and Bill Gothard makes me want to run for cover. H, when I expressed my frustration over the speech to her, said that she dealt with such comments by telling herself that they aren't really about her. She's not in that targeted group. She's a different kind of Christian. But if I've learned anything from this past couple years of spiritual upheaval, it's that if I choose to be a Christian, I belong to the Christian community whether I like it or not. I may not agree with all of its members, but they are my community, along with those I see more eye to eye with.
However, I also belong to the academic community, one that prizes open-mindedness and works to overcome bigotry and stereotyping. And as my experience in this panel illustrates, one of the last stereotypes left standing in academia is that of the aggressive, judgmental, paranoid, ultra-conservative, women-, minority-, and homosexual-hating Christian fundamentalist. The very fact that this speaker did not differentiate between "those of the religious right who are paranoid" and "the religious right, which is paranoid" suggests that he was perpetuating this stereotype. Furthermore, the responses of those two grad students towards H show how blind academics can be to their own, dare I say, bigotry. And when conservatives or religious individuals speak up to defend themselves, they are "too sensitive" or "preachy."
Frustrating as all this is, what really angers me is that this was presented in a formal public forum, to a varied audience, at a conference dedicated to inquiry and critical analysis, by an author whose book urges readers to "acknowledge the possibility of other views being just as reasonable as our own." Essentially, he implied that I, as a member of the Christian community--the so-called Paranoid Religious Right, am unable or unwilling to think critically. And yet, I have spent a year in this graduate program and have proved my ability to succeed as well as anyone. Moreover, I am one of the instructors who will be taking his book and representing him and his ideas to freshmen students over the coming year or two. And if an unspoken "present company excluded" were implied in his speech, he still ridiculed my religious community, dismissing anything they might have to offer to public discourse, thus contradicting his own definition of "ethical argument."
*sigh* I'm debating writing an email to him--albeit an email that is calmer and less rant-like than this post--expressing my frustration with the inappropriateness of his anecdote and the double standard it perpetuated. After the session, I vented to a few of my classmates, all of whom were likewise troubled by the speech. Which suggests at least that I'm not completely off-track here. We'll see.
On this topic, see also the post just previous to this one, which I wrote last winter, but really didn't have the guts to post until now.
([...and as promised, the psycho neighbor transcripts] "Leave me alone, Eric. Just shut up. Ok? Just shut up. I was worried sick. You left your ****ing phone, and therefore I'm blaming you. You know your cousin is ****** fifteen, why would you expect her to do anything ****** responsible. No! Shut your *****. Don't ever talk to me like that again. If you're such a big ******* boy, why don't you... no, you shut up. Shut up. Oh, aren't you cute. Good, you know, blame your cousins. No, blame yourself. I just find it highly coincidental that two, three seconds after I called, .... said 'no, we don't know where he is.' Forget that ****** party.")
Labels: grad school, neighbors, rants
0 commentsIn Between
[I wrote this last winter, during my second term in grad school. It was a little too scary to post it back then, when I was "in the zone" so to speak, but it provides some context to the following post, I think, so here it is.]
I live in a strange place, an in-between place. I exist in two universes simultaneously—two mutually exclusive, contradictory, paradoxically similar, and overlapping universes.
First, the universe of James Dobson, of Christian bookstores, purity rings, altar calls, Promise Keepers, and Bush-worship. The universe of conviction, conscience, integrity, morality, compassion, and self-control. Of hymns and C.S. Lewis, Corinthians 13, communion of the saints, Passion week, fabric Bible covers, Eucharist, the doxology, the Lord’s Prayer, child-like faith. Of Tim LaHaye and the End Times, of abortion protests and Republicanism, G-rated entertainment, censorship, tee-totaling, female shoulders and knees modestly covered, unabashed consumerism and middle class moderation. On Thursday, Friday, and sometimes Sunday, I live in this universe, where it is presumed by most that I am a staunch conservative, love George Bush, recognize the downward slide of the culture into godless liberalism, attend church regularly, pray before meals, follow established gender roles strictly, tithe, disbelieve in global warming, and will never get a tattoo.
I also live in the universe-ity of political cartoons, recycling, vegetarianism, hemp, Freud, Lacan, Marx, and Nietzsche. The universe of tolerance, diversity, acceptance, equality, and self-actualization. Of critical thinking and open-mindedness, Walt Whitman, Margaret Atwood, and Virginia Woolf, wine and cheese receptions, libraries, liberal use of the f-word, marijuana, feminism, environmental awareness, yoga, and cultural appreciation. Of atheism and religious confusion, political activism, identification with the working class, pomposity, gender ambiguity, sexual preoccupation, moral relativism, verbosity, and nihilism. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I live in this universe, where it is presumed by most that I am a committed liberal, hate George Bush, recognize the downward slide of the culture into Christian conservatism, condone every legal sexual expression (and some illegal ones), watch the news religiously, renounce Wal-Mart and Starbucks, have sex occasionally, support a woman’s right to choose, and would never dream of home-schooling my children.
On Saturday, I go home to my apartment, by myself, and think about who I am and where I belong. In both my worlds, I find people to respect, admire, and love. Both worlds advocate loving-kindness, giving to the poor, building community, ending violence, helping others. Both tell me what to think, how to act, and who to hate in order to be a good person. Both stereotype, demonize, mock, and casually dismiss each other. Both refuse to budge and yet constantly shift and realign according to their own interests. Both are visionary and both can be blind. In neither place can I say what I truly think of the world and of my soul without calling down…what? Derision, pity? Anger, judgment? Disappointment? I’m sure I’m not the only one in this place, dangling uncomfortably in this cockeyed hammock, trying so hard to be accepted by such opposite yet similar poles.
I live in a strange place, an in-between place. I exist in two universes simultaneously—two mutually exclusive, contradictory, paradoxically similar, and overlapping universes.
First, the universe of James Dobson, of Christian bookstores, purity rings, altar calls, Promise Keepers, and Bush-worship. The universe of conviction, conscience, integrity, morality, compassion, and self-control. Of hymns and C.S. Lewis, Corinthians 13, communion of the saints, Passion week, fabric Bible covers, Eucharist, the doxology, the Lord’s Prayer, child-like faith. Of Tim LaHaye and the End Times, of abortion protests and Republicanism, G-rated entertainment, censorship, tee-totaling, female shoulders and knees modestly covered, unabashed consumerism and middle class moderation. On Thursday, Friday, and sometimes Sunday, I live in this universe, where it is presumed by most that I am a staunch conservative, love George Bush, recognize the downward slide of the culture into godless liberalism, attend church regularly, pray before meals, follow established gender roles strictly, tithe, disbelieve in global warming, and will never get a tattoo.
I also live in the universe-ity of political cartoons, recycling, vegetarianism, hemp, Freud, Lacan, Marx, and Nietzsche. The universe of tolerance, diversity, acceptance, equality, and self-actualization. Of critical thinking and open-mindedness, Walt Whitman, Margaret Atwood, and Virginia Woolf, wine and cheese receptions, libraries, liberal use of the f-word, marijuana, feminism, environmental awareness, yoga, and cultural appreciation. Of atheism and religious confusion, political activism, identification with the working class, pomposity, gender ambiguity, sexual preoccupation, moral relativism, verbosity, and nihilism. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I live in this universe, where it is presumed by most that I am a committed liberal, hate George Bush, recognize the downward slide of the culture into Christian conservatism, condone every legal sexual expression (and some illegal ones), watch the news religiously, renounce Wal-Mart and Starbucks, have sex occasionally, support a woman’s right to choose, and would never dream of home-schooling my children.
On Saturday, I go home to my apartment, by myself, and think about who I am and where I belong. In both my worlds, I find people to respect, admire, and love. Both worlds advocate loving-kindness, giving to the poor, building community, ending violence, helping others. Both tell me what to think, how to act, and who to hate in order to be a good person. Both stereotype, demonize, mock, and casually dismiss each other. Both refuse to budge and yet constantly shift and realign according to their own interests. Both are visionary and both can be blind. In neither place can I say what I truly think of the world and of my soul without calling down…what? Derision, pity? Anger, judgment? Disappointment? I’m sure I’m not the only one in this place, dangling uncomfortably in this cockeyed hammock, trying so hard to be accepted by such opposite yet similar poles.
Labels: grad school, rants
0 commentsSaturday, September 24, 2005
So this morning Mom and Pop took me to a sale at a nearby elementary school that recently closed, where I bought a good 14-16 boxes of old library books.
And also some literature textbooks, an old encylopedia brittanica set, and some hardbound National Geographics.
Heh, heh.
Where is all this going to go, you ask?
Yeah. Good question.
And also some literature textbooks, an old encylopedia brittanica set, and some hardbound National Geographics.
Heh, heh.
Where is all this going to go, you ask?
Yeah. Good question.
Labels: books
0 commentsWednesday, September 21, 2005
So today begins at 8:30 with a "Buffet Breakfast and Administrative Meeting" and ends at 4:30 with a seminar on "Counseling and Undergraduate Suicide." I do believe I went to grad school so that I wouldn't have to go to "administrative meetings."
Labels: grad school
0 commentsMonday, September 19, 2005
And it begins...
Went to the first meeting for composition teachers today. It was...a meeting. Thus long and boring. The new composition director seems nice, though. I don't think I'll mind too much having to stare at her for three hours every Wednesday evening.
("Come on, Bam. Let's go. *whistle* Come on. Bam. Come back! Bam. Right now...")**
Anyway, the next task on my list is to create my syllabus. Hmmm, this will be interesting. I'm excited to start teaching so I can write about all my experiences. It's weird, but taking the quals somehow got me really pumped up for this term. I'm actually looking forward to it. (And you thought you were going to have to listen to me whine for a whole 'nother year.)
**I've decided to let you all join in the wonderful serenade of my neighbor that I listen to every day. Therefore, whenever I'm composing a post and I hear her yelling outside my window, I will share. Fear not, profanity will be edited...though not, unfortunately, for me.
("Come on, Bam. Let's go. *whistle* Come on. Bam. Come back! Bam. Right now...")**
Anyway, the next task on my list is to create my syllabus. Hmmm, this will be interesting. I'm excited to start teaching so I can write about all my experiences. It's weird, but taking the quals somehow got me really pumped up for this term. I'm actually looking forward to it. (And you thought you were going to have to listen to me whine for a whole 'nother year.)
**I've decided to let you all join in the wonderful serenade of my neighbor that I listen to every day. Therefore, whenever I'm composing a post and I hear her yelling outside my window, I will share. Fear not, profanity will be edited...though not, unfortunately, for me.
Labels: grad school, neighbors, tea
0 commentsSunday, September 18, 2005
Have you ever been both tired and hungry and unable to decide whether to go to bed or fix yourself something to eat? If that ever happens to you, you now know what to do: blog.
If you're wondering about quals, yes, I took them. It was wretched. Eight hour tests are evil. But, I guess it went about as well as that sort of thing can go. I kind of don't want to sound too hopeful in case I jinx myself and end up failing. Maybe I'll post the questions I had to answer later, if anyone is particularly interested in seeing them.
Anyway, I have been absurdly happy all day today, just knowing that they're over. Christin and Kim and I went to the beach, which was beautiful, and hung out in Newport a little bit, ate at Mo's, the whole bit. Oh, and I got pulled over for not using my blinker to make a right hand turn from a deserted street into a parking lot. Ridiculous. No ticket, though. Whew. If you want the long version of that story, keep an eye on Kim's or Christin's blogs. Apparently from their point of view it was funnier...somehow...
Ok, so now I really am going to stop eating these Peanut Butter M&Ms and go to bed.
If you're wondering about quals, yes, I took them. It was wretched. Eight hour tests are evil. But, I guess it went about as well as that sort of thing can go. I kind of don't want to sound too hopeful in case I jinx myself and end up failing. Maybe I'll post the questions I had to answer later, if anyone is particularly interested in seeing them.
Anyway, I have been absurdly happy all day today, just knowing that they're over. Christin and Kim and I went to the beach, which was beautiful, and hung out in Newport a little bit, ate at Mo's, the whole bit. Oh, and I got pulled over for not using my blinker to make a right hand turn from a deserted street into a parking lot. Ridiculous. No ticket, though. Whew. If you want the long version of that story, keep an eye on Kim's or Christin's blogs. Apparently from their point of view it was funnier...somehow...
Ok, so now I really am going to stop eating these Peanut Butter M&Ms and go to bed.
Labels: beach, grad school
0 commentsThursday, September 15, 2005
What's a girl who's been up since 7am reading modern drama to do? Need you ask? Look for Cats in Sinks, of course.
As for the modern drama, give me Oscar Wilde or Bernard Shaw any day. Heck, even Eugene O'Neill. But Harold Pinter, Sam Shepard, Samuel Beckett, and Caryl Churchill just should never have been born, if you ask me.
Also, Christin and I discovered Sweet Life last night (which we've renamed La Vita Dolce)--a cake shop that is like Gonditorei on drugs. In a good way. We're talking cheesecake tarts, creme brulee, cream puffs, layer cakes, bars, cookies, the works. Plus gelato. Also great drinks selection and quiche. Random but good. The girl at the counter also adds to the flavor of the place. You have to see her to understand--she's like a painting...a surrealist painting. Come visit me and check it out.
As for the modern drama, give me Oscar Wilde or Bernard Shaw any day. Heck, even Eugene O'Neill. But Harold Pinter, Sam Shepard, Samuel Beckett, and Caryl Churchill just should never have been born, if you ask me.
Also, Christin and I discovered Sweet Life last night (which we've renamed La Vita Dolce)--a cake shop that is like Gonditorei on drugs. In a good way. We're talking cheesecake tarts, creme brulee, cream puffs, layer cakes, bars, cookies, the works. Plus gelato. Also great drinks selection and quiche. Random but good. The girl at the counter also adds to the flavor of the place. You have to see her to understand--she's like a painting...a surrealist painting. Come visit me and check it out.
Labels: Eugene, literature
0 commentsWednesday, September 14, 2005
A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes...
Had another dream about quals.
This time, I dreamed that I took the tests, finished with plenty of time to spare, and felt pretty good about my essays. I waited for the results to get back, opened them nervously, and found that I had passed both sections of the exam with distinction. My classmates praised me, my professors smiled indulgently at me, and I heaved a huge sigh of relief that it was all over...
And then I woke up. And then I remembered that there are still 3 days until the exam. And then I remembered how much studying I still have to do.
*Sigh*
Somehow, I think the nightmares are preferable.
This time, I dreamed that I took the tests, finished with plenty of time to spare, and felt pretty good about my essays. I waited for the results to get back, opened them nervously, and found that I had passed both sections of the exam with distinction. My classmates praised me, my professors smiled indulgently at me, and I heaved a huge sigh of relief that it was all over...
And then I woke up. And then I remembered that there are still 3 days until the exam. And then I remembered how much studying I still have to do.
*Sigh*
Somehow, I think the nightmares are preferable.
Labels: dreams, grad school
0 commentsTuesday, September 13, 2005
"For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?" --P&P
Except there's less laughing lately, and more groaning, and fist shaking, and cursing, and weeping. Why? Wahahyyy??? Why, I ask, must the woman in the apartment next door appoint herself police of the parking lot and lean her head out the screen door to scream and cuss at whomever she believes is, oh, parking in the wrong spot, or looking for recycling, or just getting on her nerves? Why must she and her family take every argument out into the parking lot so that the whole neighborhood can hear them yell at eachother instead of fighting behind closed doors like normal people? Why must the owner of the pit bull next door let her beast out 40 times a day and then stand in her doorway yelling "Bam! BAM! BAM! Come here! Bam!" while 'Bam' ignores her completely and wanders around peeing on our car tires and harrassing the gardener? I don't understand these people.
Anyone with suggestions on how to shut up loud, obnoxious neighbors is welcome to comment. 0 comments
Anyone with suggestions on how to shut up loud, obnoxious neighbors is welcome to comment. 0 comments
Monday, September 12, 2005
Nampa Happiness
Got back from Nampa last night, late, late, late. My trips to Nampa generally correspond with extreme sleep deprivation. Also starvation. In fact, on Friday, my first day there, when by 5pm I had eaten a grand total of 8 grapes and 4 Sun Chips and was about ready to drop from fatigue, I smiled to myself and thought, hmm, I must be in Nampa. I'm not sure why this is. Usually I'm just so busy having fun I forget about peripheral things like food and sleep.
And fun we had. Christin and I drove up together--not that that saved me driving time, since Christin couldn't drive a stick, but it did cut the gas in half. I stayed with Tammy--we promised each other we would not run around all weekend but would spend some time studying: her on her thesis, me on my quals. Obviously, this did not happen. First, we went to the Shakespeare festival on Friday night, where we were rained out. We only managed to see the first 20 minutes of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged before the stage manager came out to cry "the stage is too wet for the actors' safety," which is code for we don't want to continue in this miserable weather and neither should you. So instead we went to see The Brother's Grimm at the Egyptian and then did feminist analysis on it for an hour afterwards. Which was lovely fun for Tammy and me, but her dad's wife who was with us was less enthused. Seriously, though, there's something about phrases like "female appropriation of the patriarchal power structure" that really get my blood going. If you do end up seeing that movie, though, don't be fooled by the heroine's initial strength and androgyny--we were disappointed to find her on her back in a coffin waiting for the kiss at the end in typical Disney fashion. Still, it was worth seeing if only for the English major fodder of symbolism and metaphor.
Anyway, we also made it over to the Rembrandt for lunch and gelato and down to Satchels for a showing of The Godfather and some too-good-to-be-true veggie pannini. So, I finally have context for all those lines from You've Got Mail: "Maunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday..." Mark and Rob kept shooting looks at me to see if the majesty that is The Godfather was having any effect on me, since it was my first time to see it. I gave them the double thumbs up once or twice, but I don't think they were convinced since in between I was nearly falling asleep. But it was ok--worth seeing, especially now that I have the real Marlon Brando to compare with their impressions of Marlon Brando.
And now I'm back, with five days and counting left to study for quals. Oh dear.
And fun we had. Christin and I drove up together--not that that saved me driving time, since Christin couldn't drive a stick, but it did cut the gas in half. I stayed with Tammy--we promised each other we would not run around all weekend but would spend some time studying: her on her thesis, me on my quals. Obviously, this did not happen. First, we went to the Shakespeare festival on Friday night, where we were rained out. We only managed to see the first 20 minutes of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged before the stage manager came out to cry "the stage is too wet for the actors' safety," which is code for we don't want to continue in this miserable weather and neither should you. So instead we went to see The Brother's Grimm at the Egyptian and then did feminist analysis on it for an hour afterwards. Which was lovely fun for Tammy and me, but her dad's wife who was with us was less enthused. Seriously, though, there's something about phrases like "female appropriation of the patriarchal power structure" that really get my blood going. If you do end up seeing that movie, though, don't be fooled by the heroine's initial strength and androgyny--we were disappointed to find her on her back in a coffin waiting for the kiss at the end in typical Disney fashion. Still, it was worth seeing if only for the English major fodder of symbolism and metaphor.
Anyway, we also made it over to the Rembrandt for lunch and gelato and down to Satchels for a showing of The Godfather and some too-good-to-be-true veggie pannini. So, I finally have context for all those lines from You've Got Mail: "Maunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday..." Mark and Rob kept shooting looks at me to see if the majesty that is The Godfather was having any effect on me, since it was my first time to see it. I gave them the double thumbs up once or twice, but I don't think they were convinced since in between I was nearly falling asleep. But it was ok--worth seeing, especially now that I have the real Marlon Brando to compare with their impressions of Marlon Brando.
And now I'm back, with five days and counting left to study for quals. Oh dear.
Labels: Nampa
0 commentsTuesday, September 06, 2005
I'm not laughing... No, really....
Ok, yes I am laughing. Because fellow NNU English grad, Kelly, is discovering the, ahem, joys of grad school. My favorite quote from her most recent post is "Grad School is Evil! RUN AWAY!!!"
My sentiments exactly.
My sentiments exactly.
Labels: grad school
0 commentsSunday, September 04, 2005
Time for some new pictures
It's been awhile since I've posted pictures to my blog (mostly because it used to be a big pain with the Hello software and all that), but here are a few from the past couple weeks:
Proof that I really have been painting for weeks.

The reason I enjoy spending so much time at my parents house.

Tea with mommy.

My new apartment (still with move-in boxes--it's cleaner now)
0 comments
Proof that I really have been painting for weeks.

The reason I enjoy spending so much time at my parents house.

Tea with mommy.

My new apartment (still with move-in boxes--it's cleaner now)
0 comments
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Number of CDs downloaded to my new Ipod: 21
Number of times Kandice and I have phone tagged each other in the past 2 days: 4
Number of days until my qualifying exams: 13
Number of nightmares I've had about the upcoming quals: 4
Number of episodes of 3rd Rock From the Sun I watched last night: 5 1/2
Number of fabulously delicious Izze blueberry sodas I've had in my life: 2
Number of "fun books" on my bedside waiting for me to get to them: 6
Number of houseplants in my new apartment: 12
Number of fish in my new apartment: 2
Number of books I carried home from the library, one mile away: 21
Number of such books that are CliffNotes-style cheat sheets written by Harold Bloom: 10
Number of times Kandice and I have phone tagged each other in the past 2 days: 4
Number of days until my qualifying exams: 13
Number of nightmares I've had about the upcoming quals: 4
Number of episodes of 3rd Rock From the Sun I watched last night: 5 1/2
Number of fabulously delicious Izze blueberry sodas I've had in my life: 2
Number of "fun books" on my bedside waiting for me to get to them: 6
Number of houseplants in my new apartment: 12
Number of fish in my new apartment: 2
Number of books I carried home from the library, one mile away: 21
Number of such books that are CliffNotes-style cheat sheets written by Harold Bloom: 10
Labels: meme
0 comments


