Catholic Guilt

How am I a good teacher?

2010-07-15T19:48:00.002-03:00

I do not take well to ignorance. People who put things in writing (as my mother always says not to do), should be careful to ensure that what they write is fact. Here is a fact: People in general are not really smrt (as Jeff would spell it). On that note, here is my attempt to just NOT say it:

FROM THE OED (particularly 2, 3 & 4(:

Huckleberry--
1. a. The fruit and plant of species of Gaylussacia (N.O. Vacciniaceæ), low berry-bearing shrubs, common in North America. Also applied to N. American species of the closely allied Vaccinium, more properly called blueberry.

1670 D. DENTON Descr. New York (1845) 3 The Fruits natural to the Island are Mulberries, Posimons, Grapes great and small, Huckelberries. 1796 Ned Evans II. 118 The chief dish is broth made of bears' flesh, dogs, and huckleberries. 1837 HAWTHORNE Twice-told T. (1851) I. xvi. 249 To peddle out a lot of huckleberries. 1858 O. W. HOLMES Aut. Breakf.-t. 357 A small heap of solemn black huckleberries. 1897 WILLIS Flower. Pl. II. 384 The Vaccinium pennsylvanicum..is called the blue huckleberry.

b. attrib. and Comb., esp. as huckleberry pie.
1751 J. BARTRAM Observ. Trav. Pennsylv. etc. 13 The land hereabouts is middling white oak and huckleberry land. 1775 P. V. FITHIAN Jrnl. (1934) II. 68 We have..boil'd potatoes & huckleberry-pie. 1851 THOREAU Autumn (1894) 8 The huckleberry bushes on Conantum are all turned red. 1854 LOWELL Cambridge 30 Yrs. Ago Pr. Wks. 1890 I. 70 The greater part of what is now Cambridgeport was then (in the native dialect) a ‘huckleberry pastur’. a1862 THOREAU Cape Cod vii. (1894) 155 That kind of gall called Huckleberry-apple. 1865 WHITTIER Snow-Bound 479 Dread Olympus at his will Became a huckleberry hill. 1869 [see cranberry pie]. 1947 Mazama Sept. 1/1 Smell that turkey, those roasting ears, and the huckleberry pies? 1972 Punch 1 Mar. 292/3 A sliver of freeze-dried huckleberry pie with apple pandowdy and French fries.

2. U.S. colloq. A small amount, degree, or extent.

1832 J. K. PAULDING Westward Ho! I. 182 [I once got] within a huckleberry of being smothered to death. 1920 E. BOK Americanization of Edward Bok 165 He always kept ‘a huckleberry or two’ ahead of his readers.

3. A person, spec. (derog.) a person of little consequence.

[1835 Gent's. Vade-Mecum (Philadelphia) 22 Aug. 2/4 Orson, the wild man of the woods is nothing to himnot a circumstancenot a huckleberry.] 1868 New Eng. Base Ballist 3 Sept. 17/1 Now then, my huckleberry, look sharp! you're wrong! 1889 ‘MARK TWAIN’ Connecticut Yankee 338 The Saracen..is no huckleberry.

4. In various phrases: to be someone's huckleberry: to be someone's sweetheart, friend, or partner; to be a huckleberry to (or over) someone's persimmon: a proverbial phrase (see quots.).

1832 J. K. PAULDING Westward Ho! I. ix. 80 If the [broad-]horn gets broadside to the current, I wouldn't risk a huckleberry to a persimmon that we don't every soul get treed, and sink to the bottom. 1834 D. CROCKETT Narr. Life ix. 70 But to do this, and write the warrants too, was at least a huckleberry over my persimmon. 1856 W. G. SIMMS Eutaw 553 My larning ain't a huckleberry to your persimmon. 1880 A. A. HAYES New Colorado (1881) v. 68 The first words that we heard him speak settled his nationality, for..he sententiously remarked, ‘Hi'm 'is 'uckleberry.’ 1885 D. D. PORTER Incidents Civil War 204 ‘I am the fleet-surgeon of the Mississippi squadron!’..‘I'm a huckleberry above that persimmon, 'cause I'm the chief cook.’ 1889 [see PERSIMMON 3]. 1926 N. N. PUCKETT in A. Dundes Mother Wit (1973) 8/2 Sir, you is a huckleberry beyon' my persimmon. 1936 J. TULLY Bruiser (1946) 37 Well, I'm your huckleberry, Mr. Haney. 1951 Publ. Amer. Dial. Soc. xv. 56 I'll be your huckleberry.

Hence huckleberrying vbl. n., gathering huckleberries.

1721-2 in Temple & Sheldon Hist. Northfield, Mass. (1875) 160 By horse to go huckle-berrying 0 0 6. 1883 Leisure Hour 702/2, I have joined children in huckleberrying, thimbleberrying..and bilberrying.

Just About Enough

2010-03-25T10:40:00.003-03:00

I am really tired of writing papers. I need a husband with group health insurance--oh wait. Thanks to the Democratic Congress, I HAVE to get insurance (with a pre-existing condition) AND I get to pay for everyone else to have insurance, too.

And all employers have to carry insurance, now? What is THIS going to do to small businesses, the economy and the job market?

My "little" tirade

2010-03-22T11:43:00.003-03:00

When did it become okay to milk off of the government? Let us say, for example, that a person, for these purposes a girl, had no high school diploma, no GED, and no general clue. This person works part time at a dead-end job. This job has no health insurance option. So, this girl decides that it is a good time for her to go off of her birth control pills and, subsequently, gets pregnant. Duh.

She decides that the government owes her because, after all, it is there, right? She is on public aid, WIC, and some sort of health insurance. Who pays for this? Oh, that's right. WE DO. But she is owed, right?

Aargh. I don't really know what to say. The attitude through which ANYONE thinks that his/her government owes him/her BLOWS ME AWAY.

I mean, there is a big part of me that thinks that someone owes me -- the world owes me. I followed all of the rules. I did what I was supposed to do. I worked and took loans. I got degrees that are all fancy-schmancy. I worked hard enough to get, virtually, straight A's. So, who owes me?

And, if someone were to "pay up," who would it be and where would that entity get the money?

I am angry. Don't tell me I have to have health insurance. Who is going to pay for it? Where am I going to get the money? I can't get private insurance because of MS, so I have to go on Medicaid (however that is spelled). Are they going to give me my medicine so that I can afford it after I have paid the premium? Really, how are AVERAGE people going to afford this fargin' mandate?

You get what you pay for

2010-03-04T14:27:00.002-03:00

Oh. And by the way, on November 24th, 2008, I put on this blog that I predicted that Amber would show up pregnant within a year. She did.

Some brief updates

2010-03-04T14:15:00.003-03:00

Okay, first ... I find it really ridiculous to return a can of mixed nuts to the cabinet when there are only 3 or 4 nuts left in the can.

I think this is evidence of the hedonism that permeates certain people's lives. When there is no consciousness of the effects of your actions on others, this is careless, silly, and, I think, hedonistic. "If it feels good, I will do it, now."

Now, as far as that one group is concerned ... I was thinking about starting a group on Facebook for those people who were as screwed over by that group . I did, today, find out that they named the Outstanding Journalist award after Kurtis. Totally cool.

Now, I am Connor's godmother. We are throwing a big baby shower for Cat's soon-to-be daughter, Eleanora (not sure of the spelling). Still cleaning out Nana's shithole. Planning a big garage sale over Oswego Days (oh, excuse me, Prairie Fest). Waiting for the squatter to move (says after the baby comes ...).

I'm still just blown away by the whole "nuts" thing.

What is wrong with me?

2009-06-10T16:54:00.001-03:00

My grandmother died. I have cried over Jim Ammenhauser's son quite a bit, but hardly at all over losing my grandmother. I miss her, though she was a pain in the ass. I miss her every day.

First, why am I compelled to watch "I'm a celebrity. Get me out of here!"? The show sucks, but it's like the car wreck on the Interstate -- you just gotta slow down and rubberneck.

Next, is it totally wrong to want your landlord to fall off the ladder on which he is working to clean out your gutters? I have two fantasy scenarios: a) I save his life after he lay dying after falling off the stupid thing (and forever ingratiate myself to my landlords); and b) he dies and I get to buy the house that his wife wants to unload.

I'm going to hell.

Stick a Needle in your Eye

2009-01-14T15:30:00.002-03:00

Steve is really freaked out by any "procedure" having to do with eyes. He cannot watch me put my contacts in. He gets grossed out by people rubbing their eyes. We were watching House the other day, and there was a guy who needed some diagnostic test. When it came on that the guy way strapped to a table with a needle headed for his eye, Steve jumped up an yelled, "Oh, fuck no!" and took off upstairs.

When I got home after going to 2 different pharmacies to get Nana's prescriptions, I found the driveway TOTALLY shoveled and cleared. I told my mother this on the phone as I was pulling in. She begged me not to tell Steve about Nana's upcoming surgery because he was so nice to have shoveled.

Steve keeps telling me that he shovel(s) because, "2 plus 2 plus 2" equals a lot of shoveling. This morning, I told him, "2 plus 2 plus 6." We got a lot of snow. I also told him that Nana is having surgery on her eye on Thursday that involves "sticking a needle in her eye" to relieve the pressure that is building and causing her pain.

Poor Nana. I feel actually bad for her. This has to suck, a lot.

I don't want to live that long. She turned 90. Wow.

Whatfuckingever

2009-01-11T16:05:00.002-03:00

I don't get it. Other than the fact that the title is an "infixed" word. I am getting thinner. I don't have to work at it (bragging) except to push that stupid needle into the muscles of my thigh every week -- oh, and to endure the daily torment of having multiple sclerosis. All of a sudden, people like me.

Or maybe it is just that familiarity breeds contempt and absence makes the heart grow fonder.

As I said, whatfuckingever!

Nana

2008-12-03T12:02:00.002-03:00

On Thanksgiving Day, we picked Nana up at @11:45 and went to the Golden Corral Steakhouse. Pretty much the worst Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had. Just awful!

Then, after much ado getting Nana around, we went back to her house. She had me write a check to pay her Comcast bill. Then she brought her bag into the living room and announced that she needed to go to the emergency room.

Mom and I went in with her (Dad slept in a chair in the waiting room). We sat there for some 4 hours and the doctor finally told us that Nana's left retina had detached. She is now totally blind.

Mom went back up to the hospital on Friday. Dr. Stapleton (Nana's long time doctor) told her and Mom that she just cannot take care of herself any more.

Nana is waiting for a doctor's appointment on Thursday with an opthamologist. He will tell her what we've been trying to get through her thick skull for days, now: She is permanently blind. She cannot live alone any more.

Hmmm. We'll see if she wins. By the way, she's been driving my parents just crazy since she came to their home. She doesn't get it, yet. And she's been really rough on my parents -- ungrateful, mean, stubborn -- generally, Nana-ish.

Drama, drama, drama

2008-11-24T13:15:00.002-03:00

I thought that at this stage in my life, there would be little, if any, drama. Boy, was I wrong.

Steve's daughter is a pain in the ass. I love the little bitch, but let us not pretend that she is anything other than a pain in the ass. And it takes one to know one.

It must be hard to be such a major dissapointment to your parents. I always felt horrible as I was struggling to make it. Right, like I've made it ...

I never wanted to let them down. So, I went to school. Okay, I went to get my Mrs. and, instead, I got an MA. I might have to go get a damned PhD for lack of anything better to do. Amber is working very hard to ensure that she never amounts to anything.

I just wanted to get this down with a date and everything: She will show up pregnant within the next year. That's the last thing that she can do to really show her parents that she is a complete and utter failure at life.

The only reason that I feel that any of this is my business is because I am a member of the human race. People like her should a) not be allowed to breed; b) not be allowed to coast through life without a GED; and c) not be permitted to work so hard a failure.

God, I'm pissed.

Crappy and Bored

2008-11-10T11:43:00.002-03:00

I am not speaking to Steve. I don't think that he knows this, yet. His daughter is beyond a slob. Slovenly. Gross. Lazy. These are a good start for describing her behavior. I don't want to be the bad guy, but he's making me. I am going to go all "Mommy Dearest" on her ass. I have a bit more compassion for Joan Crawford, now. I understand what it takes to push someone to the "no wire hangers, ever" point. I cannot even describe the hovel in which Amber lives. The reason I am not speaking to Steve--he cannot and does not stand up to his tyrannical daughter.

I remember visiting his home on Grant street, once. Keep in mind that this was a 12 year old girl without a good female influence in her life. I found used maxi pads just lying around the bathroom--they weren't wrapped up or even CLOSE to the garbage can.

This is the beginning, of that I am sure.

Steve and I watched a 4 part miniseries called "In Search of Shakespeare" that PBS did. It was really good.

Let's see...I sold a LOT two weeks ago. Things seem to be picking up a little -- knock wood.

I am still tired all of the time. No amount of caffeine makes a difference. I go to bed most nights at @9:30. I do, though, get up around 6:00 a.m. The dog just won't let me sleep any later. Actually, one morning a few weeks ago I am sure Steve was trying to help. He took Lia out in the morning. This made me run REALLY late. My day off I spent running like I was late all day -- I had to make 3 dozen deviled eggs (here's some math -- split in half that is, actually 72 deviled eggs) for work. My mom helped me fill them. Then I spent another 4 hours running her around on various errands--the computer fix-it place, Walgreen's, the post office, the bank, the Kendall County Judicial Center, the Kendall County Courthouse, Janelle's store, the dry cleaners. Whew. Happy, happy day off.

I am sitting, now, in the "Library" at WCC's Copley campus. I had a conference scheduled at 8:20 -- he didn't show. Another conference was scheduled at 8:40. She didn't show. Waiting for a 9:00 and a 9:20. The 9:20 will definitely show. We'll see about the 9:00 (she's got 6 more minutes).

I am working 10-7 today and tomorrow (Tuesday). I have Wednesday "sort of" off -- I do have conferences all morning with my students. Then on Thursday, I have to drive to Bourbonnais very early to get "training" for solid surface countertops. Oh goody. I'm scheduled on Friday, but I'll have it off.

This morning, I have to call to get my medicine sent. Late this afternoon, I am going to call Steve's parents to invite them for dinner. I'm making Chicken Au Vin. I think I've perfected the recipe. It's really not anywhere near as hard as I thought it would be.

Jay called me the other day. It was so nice to talk to him. I was starting to wonder ...

Okay. I suppose I should sort my bag and see what's going on.

Later.

Fate

2008-10-06T10:23:00.002-03:00

I am 40 years old. I live with a man I do not love and I love a man I never see.

What is with this crap?

Little update

2008-09-02T15:47:00.003-03:00

Yeah, I haven't sold much this summer, but I made a lot in late May and June.

Okay. I just have to ask what is worse:

1. Being an attendee at a wedding where you have slept with at least 3 men in the room;

OR

2. Being an attendant at a wedding where you just don't want to be around half of the guests? (and in a dress with spaghetti straps so that your big, fat arms are exposed). Okay, this is definitely not that bad. I think I am less looking forward to the wedding where at least 3 men I have "been" with will be in attendance.

Yech.

I Hate My Life

2008-05-01T10:05:00.002-03:00

I am tired all of the time. I have to clean my house. I haven't sold jack-schitt (to use Jasper Fforde's version) in several weeks (except a washer and dryer to my sister yesterday morning). Did I mention that I'm really tired? Lia has an ear infection--again. I have to meet with my students, today. This is the last group (I'm at the Aurora Campus) for conferences. I need to come up with some money, somewhere, to fix my car. The alternator is apparently "crooked" and is causing the belt squeeling, etc. I am really tired. I am having a minor MS relapse including facial pain and horrible restless leg(s) (only my right leg and the only time I get some respite is when I'm sleeping with a bar of soap under my covers (thanks Dr. Gott). I'm really tired.

No, you can't

2008-04-08T10:44:00.001-03:00

I have only one thing to say here: Korean, hair-lipped, retarded dwarf.

And, now ...

2008-03-11T10:43:00.001-03:00

Joe just announced his engagement to Sarah (Sara?).

Cool Things About Your Brother (Versus Your Sister) Getting Married:

Can get out of being a bridesmaid.

My Uncle

2008-03-06T11:32:00.001-03:00

My Dad's next oldest brother, Tom, died shortly after Christmas. I think about him every day. I haven't been able to post it, here, because I have had issues about it. So, I'm posting, now.

Northern Illinois University

2008-02-15T13:51:00.002-03:00

I have to say something -- anything. I'm horrified at what happened. My thoughts and prayers -- my heartfelt grief -- are with my former students, my former classmates, and the entire staff of Northern Illinois University.

I just saw Michael's latest play -- Columbinus -- about the attacks at Columbine High School. I was horrified at the play. Only 5 days after seeing that play, I have to think about my own school -- people I know and love -- being affected by similar tragedy.

NOT AT MY SCHOOL!

Oh, yeah

2008-01-31T12:37:00.000-03:00

Steve gave me a digital camera for Christmas. I'll pull it together enough to get some pictures up here, eventually.

I'm Still Alive

2008-01-31T12:03:00.000-03:00

I just got really busy -- you know, playing stupid computer games, lying around and procrastinating, working at a job I really don't like, etc.

I just started teaching again this week. I'm teaching a two-way interactive course (Sugar Grove and Aurora campuses) -- my favorite -- English 102 (research paper and I get to show Beautiful Girls and make my students write a paper about it).

I am also teaching at Aurora campus on Sundays -- English 101. Boring, but I'll find a way to have fun with it.

I really like teaching -- I really tolerate designing kitchens.

Commissions are coming, though not enough to make me want to throw in the towel on teaching. Whatever.

Steve's good, I think. His daughter is well, I guess. Lia-Pia is, as always, the bestedest dog (quick story -- I told one of my high school students that my dog has terrible grammar. That student was confused -- he couldn't understand how my dog could talk! Yeah. This is why he was in summer school).

Gotta go.

It Might Take Some Fanagaling

2007-11-27T21:01:00.000-03:00

If that's really a word -- I think it is. So, Waubonsee e-mailed me and offered me a Tuesday/Thursday 8:00 - 9:15 TIC class. If I can do it, I would make an extra $3500 next semester between the two classes at WCC. It will only take Lowes to say okay and I think they might.

I wouldn't take any classes next semester -- my health insurance at Lowes will kick in around the same time my health insurance will end at NIU.

We'll see.

I Didn't Think About It

2007-11-20T00:35:00.000-03:00

I have been ultra busy, lately. I moved. I hung stuff on the wall. I washed dishes -- a lot of dishes. I sobered up a drunk (long, long, long story). I acclimated my dog to a new house. I wrote papers. I graded papers. I designed kitchens. I sold A LOT of appliances (did I mention that I get a commission at my new job?) I lost more weight (well under 200 for the first time in YEARS). I went to a funeral and cried a lot (thinking of Brian and his new baby). I talked to old friends I hadn't seen in years. I stayed out of a brewing family feud (yeah -- not me this time). I got laid (again, long story). I took garbage out. I got free mulch for my back yard. I haven't gotten myself in trouble at work, yet. I finally watched a Netflix I've had for several weeks -- maybe several months (after I -- that's right -- I fixed the DVD connection issue on the main television). I bought a lot of crap that fell under the heading of "immediate need" for my house (after I borrowed money from a good friend). I fixed some stuff.

I am going to have to take a sub job or two in the next few weeks (before Christmas break, anyway). I will need the money to pay back my friend and buy Christmas gifts.

Did I mention that I behaved like a grown up? Really -- several times. I have to say I am very proud of myself right now. And I didn't even cry (except at the funeral of that poor girl -- the wife of an old friend of mine. Sandy died only a day or so after giving birth to a new little girl -- who now has to grow up without a mommy. That really sucks!).

I am not secretly writing anything

2007-10-20T19:58:00.000-03:00

Sorry, Albina.

I might have time now, though. We'll just see.

Lia christened the house last night -- in front of my new landlords just after they told me that we didn't have to put down a pet deposit. Great.

I am going to have to retrain her with gates and the bell and everything at the new house. This sucks. I hear I'm supposed to have her on the leash all the time. I don't know about that, but we'll see.

Got some phones, today, pretty inexpensively at Sam's. Still need a LOT of rugs.

I have an appointment w/one of my college students tonight, so I have to go. Here was a quick update. Maybe I've got a little something written ...

Overwhelmed

2007-10-17T20:41:00.000-03:00

And you can just be "whelmed" -- not just in Europe.

I start at Lowes on Monday (orientation Monday and Tuesday from 4-10 in Carol Stream). Whew. I have to miss my English class, again. I already sent an e-mail to my professor. She may just about lose it and I wouldn't blame her.

Of course, I have a student I have to accommodate that I'm not really sure I want to. I will, though, because I am just accommodating as all hell.

Did I spell that right?

I felt like a grown up today. I set up cable, internet, phone, water, sewer, and garbage service at my new place.

Jay and Jeff were the references I thought of on the spot for my new landlords. I love them both--they said nice stuff. I'm not sure I would have. They know my "history" with roommates. This is Steve, though. Each of them also knows him and "referred" him, too.

I just thought about my Spanish teacher in high school--Sr. Lucas. I loved him. I went to his memorial service when he died around 5 years ago. He used to spell it rhythmically -- "r-e-f-e-r-r-a-l . Referral. Referral."

My mind is running too quickly and tangentially right now. I'm going to watch The Wheel.

Did I spell that right? Tangentially. Looked it up. It's right.

I Had a Big Day

2007-10-17T00:08:00.000-03:00

Confirmed -- got the house! It's a Victorian house down the street from where Joe lives in downtown Oswego. The rent is a little more than we wanted to pay, but we fell in love. It's wonderful! We can start moving in this Friday!

Cool.

Got the job at Lowes, too -- as long as I passed the drug test :) Duh!

Things are a-lookin' up!

I still love my car

2007-10-07T22:16:00.000-03:00

In spite of the $1500 transmission.

We watched Beautiful Girls in class, today. The purpose: use the film for the topic of a critical analysis paper.

This has worked well before. I'm crossing my fingers.

That movie gets better EVERY TIME I SEE IT.

I'd still wait.

Maybe some good news -- coming soon

2007-09-30T21:33:00.000-03:00

I'll share when I know for sure, but there is potentially good-news-a-comin'.

We still don't know what is wrong with Janelle. She looks terrible. She's on steroids, an anti-seizure medicine, and some kind of anti-stress medicine. She sees a new neurologist tomorrow.

I have two papers due this week and I haven't started either. I really don't know where to start the one due on Thursday. I do know where to start the one due on Tuesday, but I don't want to do it.

God I need a job with health insurance so that I can stop taking freakin' classes. I only need 1 class after this for my ESL endorsement. I am missing only one class for middle school endorsement. I hate teaching high school. I think I'm headed for either middle school or a full time, regular job with some adjunct college teaching on the side. The bullshit politics in the teachers' lounge suck. I am thinking I really don't like high school teachers (sorry Cat an Jay -- exceptions to the rule).

It's Got to Get Better

2007-09-22T15:22:00.000-03:00

I had a crappy week. Janelle had a worse one.

This life sucks. Can I get a new one?

Finally got the blog for my class set up. They are getting theirs set up, too.

God, I really don't want to say anything else. I am not doing as poorly as Janelle is. It is probably not MS, thank God. The alternative sucks, but it is NOT permanent.

Last Week Was Awful

2007-09-16T20:34:00.000-03:00

With my new battery on Thursday, I was coming home from school and guess what. My radio started cutting out and my blinkers wouldn't work. This time I was on the bridge in Oswego. I did a U-turn and went back to Holmes Auto (they have done a lot for my parents, etc. and have done minor maintenance on my car). The car died in their parking lot.

Dad had to take care of Tally and Grover at Janelle's house and picked me up about 1/2 hour later. We did potty duty over there and came home where I got yet another lecture from my mother.

I arranged with Cat to pick me up on Friday morning and afternoon.

Imagine my surprise when my mother was up and taking me to school at 6:15. I had to get a ride to school with my Mommy.

How old am I?

$330 later, I have a new alternator.

I'm not kidding

2007-09-12T19:06:00.000-03:00

Monday there was an accident on Wolf's Crossing by Oswego East High School. The detour made me 20 minutes late to school. It's okay because I don't have to teach 1st hour. I was, nevertheless, flustered and left my lights on in my car.

I got a boost from the guy who was parked next to me.

I went home. Turned off the car. Started the car and drove downtown Oswego. Turned off the car. Started the car and came home to watch the season finale of The Closer.

The next morning (Tuesday), I started the car and went to school. Yesterday afternoon, I left school after starting the car. I turned the car off in my driveway. Later, I started the car and drove out to DeKalb for school. As I was pulling into the pay lot, the car died. I couldn't restart it and the line of cars waiting to enter the lot was building. They all ended up entering through the exit (who cares and screw them all, darnit!). The campus police boosted my car. I paid the lady and BARELY got through the gate. I coasted into the parking space and called my dad.

Mom was her typical, supportive self [INSERT SARCASM HERE]. My father came to pick me up. In the meantime (yes, that's supposed to be one word), I printed out all of the stupid articles that we need for my stupid Thursday night class. On the way home with my father, I called Steve and talked him into picking me up early this morning to take me to DeKalb. He agreed to "help me change the battery" [TRANSLATE TO: "change the battery"].

He picked me up at exactly 6:30 (as agreed) this morning. We stopped at the gas station to get coffee. His car's battery died. My dad tried boosting the car -- nothing. Dad took us back to the house. Steve stayed with Lia-Pia while I took the Cadillac. First stop -- WalMart in Oswego (which, by the way, is 24 hours and very nice because it's somewhere less than a year old). There, I bought Steve a battery for his car. Next, I stopped at Napa in Oswego and bought a battery for my car (they don't carry my battery at WalMart -- thanks, Hyundai! -- No, really, I LOVE my car and it isn't the car's fault that I left the fargin' lights on). I went back to my house and picked up Steve.

Back at the gas station, the process looked like a NASCAR pit stop -- he changed that battery really quickly -- and then he locked his keys in his car with the car still running.

Thank God that one of the things I like the best about Steve is his sense of humor. I found it hysterical! He, at least, found it pretty funny.

Thanks in part to the horribly helpful Oswego Police Department, I got my battery replaced and made it to school by 5th period.

Icky stuff

2007-08-30T14:28:00.000-03:00

I found the new bench at Reavis dedicated to Jan, the graduate secretary in the English department that I liked so much (though her replacement, Bonnie, is awesome, too). I miss Jan and I think the word I am looking for is "winsome" to describe how I felt at seeing the new bench that was dedicated to her.

On the way home, I got the most horrible news that a good friend lost his "best friend", Lois. It breaks my heart to know that Lia will, someday, not be with me any more.

That sucks.

I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

2007-08-29T17:40:00.001-03:00

Here is a quick reminder to myself to stop at WCC and drop off my contract. While I'm there, I need to submit my syllabus and pick up the book I don't have.

Now, I also need to call FinAid and find out when my student loans will hit.

I actually like teaching Special Ed Geometry. These may be some hyper kids, but they are KIDS!

As far as PN goes, I really need to ask Katie what to do about Chapter 2 -- I will probably make it there by Tuesday or Wednesday next week, which means I have to get the packets in to be copied (on green?) by Monday at the latest (with overheads).

I'm tired.

Oh, and when I get home, I need to move this to my regular board.

Notes to Self

2007-08-27T12:08:00.001-03:00

Sandy Boyd and Sue Baier are two different people. Duh. Coincidence aside, I should pay more attention to e-mail addresses.

Maybe I should set up an alternate blog for school notes. Instead of a webboard with announcements, I could use a blog. Then students can connect to each others blogs through mine, etc.

I think this will work.

Okay. That's it on the college stuff.

NIU -- technically all of DeKalb was closed all weekend due to the horrible flooding that the recent storms have caused. I haven't bought my books yet. Whatever.

Plainfield North is so far really awesome. I have lots and lots of time to myself and still get paid for full time.

1st hour -- Prep (56 minutes)
2nd hour -- Co-teach very basic Geometry class
3rd hour -- Pick my nose (59 minutes)
4th hour -- Co-teach again with same Geometry teacher
5th hour -- Twiddle my thumbs (56 minutes)
6th hour -- 1/2 of this hour I can twirl my hair around my finger (31 minutes) and the second 1/2 I should once in a while look up to assure myself that the study hall kids are still awake and preferably alive
7th hour -- Teach a very, very, very basic Geometry class -- about 1/2 speed of the one I co-teach. How cool is this. Thank God for Mrs. Davito's High School Geometry class and the stupid class I took at WCC with Nadine just before I graduated from there.

Summary -- I spend over 3 hours every day doing absolutely nothing by myself. STUDY HALL FOR ME!!!

Another Chance?

2007-08-22T13:56:00.000-03:00

I have, lately, been experiening that utter feeling of helplessness that jellyfish must feel when they are tugged along a current without any nod to what they must be feeling. My hands are, indeed, tied.

I took a job at Plainfield North as a long-term sub covering a maternity leave for a special ed teacher. Until mid-October, I will make $101/day. After that, I will make $180/day. Go figure.

What I am going to do when this position ends around Thanksgiving, I really don't know.

In the meantime, I really need to find a place to move with me and Lia-Pia. It is more than time. I cannot bear the crap that my mother puts me through on a daily basis. It's a roller coaster ride of emotion all the time. I really just want to watch television, read, and play with my dog. Actually, I'm thinking that other than a few, select friends, I kind of never want to talk to anyone again. Unfortunately, I am stuck working and must endure people.

I know, I know. In order to win the Lottery, I have to play.

1/3 of the Way There

2007-08-08T19:10:00.000-03:00

As long as I attended Waubonsee Community College (13 years for you newcomers), I whined to Cherie that I wanted to teach at Waubonsee. I got an adjunct job there teaching on Sundays from 1 to 4. The best part of this is that it's FYCOMP and it is the second half -- research paper! And the course uses the same book I used for teaching 104 at NIU. This means that my syllabus is virtually done. Yeah!

Now I still need a day job and a place to live.

Stress Works for Me

2007-08-02T16:53:00.000-03:00

So I checked my weight this morning -- under 200 for the first time in some 10 years!!

Why? I don't eat when I'm stressed.

I'm Not Going After All

2007-07-31T09:52:00.000-03:00

And now I'm going to be homeless by the end of the week. Looks like Lia-Pia and Mama are going to be living in my car after all. My mother is a raging lunatic. She just keeps screaming at me.

I looked at an apartment in West Aurora -- really adorable and if I can make it work, I'll be in there by the 15th.

I am also frantically looking for a job. I need to run my resume out to NIU's Human Resources because they have a lot of what they call "civil service" jobs (like Secretaries and whatnot). If the Lowe's thing falls through, then something like NIU would work. I did talk to Lowe's yesterday. It's promising that I can start maybe in the next week or so.

I have to keep reminding myself that if I get a day job or if Lowe's will work around my classes, I will get at least $6000 for student loans in early September. No need to panic about money, yet (until, of course, I have to think about paying those back).

I Guess I'm Going

2007-07-29T14:42:00.000-03:00

The first house made the house in Big Rock look like the Hyatt Regency. Horrific! Can't even describe how bad. Rent was $475 for a place with no fridge, no stove, and that was literally falling apart. It looked like the person who designed it was a raging moron. Really, really, tiny and totally dilapidated.

I got back from Salina at about 7:00 this morning. I haven't had a cigarette since Rochelle. Mom came home from Janelle's (where she's dog sitting) and traded cars. I haven't a clue why, though. All of my stuff is still in her car. She hasn't returned a single phone call during my own trip.

I started crying this morning and I can't stop. I don't want to do this, but I need a damned job. I just keep thinking that I can wait this out for, what, 9 months. And I'll only actually be there for, like, 8 months. Denver is only a 5 hour drive. I can be home in 10 hours.

Kansas is really beautiful -- I mean, it's not the Minnesota/Wisconsin border or anything, but it is rather pretty. I thought it was going to be corn fields like Central Illinois. But not at all. They have huge rolling hills with what are almost like bluffs (only way, way shorter) all the way into and out of the State -- at least from from the East.

I found a little duplex that is owned by one of my coworkers. She is very sweet. Her mother actually owns is but her mother is almost 80 and Jane has PoA over her mother's financial stuff. One of Jane's brothers is also involved and it seems he will do most of the work around the house. I really hope they are going to clean up the back yard, though. It's little and way overgrown -- no real place for Lia-Pia to potty until they take care of that. Once that is cleaned up, there is a fence all along the back and the side of the yard that if I put a 5 foot piece up would be a full fence. I don't think, though, that the yard is maybe about as big as my bedroom in my Mom's house.

1708 Pershing St., Salina, Kansas 67401.

There is a park around the corner that people always walk their dogs in, I guess. Cool. Looks like we will be getting some exercise.

I met my department chair, one of my fellow English teachers, two of the Assistant Principals, and a Special Ed teacher (my landlord). I found a house right my my school. I toured the school and my classroom. I have my own and don't have to share. I get tenure right after my second year. LIKE I'M STAYING THAT LONG!!!!

I have to do this. I really have no choice.

My rent is only $475 a month! Yeah!

Um ...

2007-07-27T00:06:00.000-03:00

Yeah. So I got a damned job -- in Salina, Kansas. I have to be there in a fargin' week! I am still teaching summer school through Wednesday. I have to go to Salina this weekend with my Dad to look at a potential rental house. Frankly, if the place isn't a total shit hole (and let us all keep in mind that I lived in that house in Big Rock -- you know, the one where some WCC students shot a horror movie) then I'm borrowing the rent and security deposit from Janelle (I guess she is coming through in a pinch and I shouldn't feel any ill will -- I am truly grateful). The kids start school on the 13th, but I am technically supposed to be there on the 3rd. They are being kind in letting me come on the 6th.

Whew. I got the phone interview on Wednesday morning at 8:00 a.m. and by 9:30 I had accepted the job. The money is good and the living is cheep. It almost sounds like Dire Straits ... but not really.

They have a Target; they are about to get a Starbucks; they have a Barnes and Noble; they have a Sam's club. They have indoor plumbing! Wow. I guess this is a little better than Alaska.

Frustration

2007-07-17T19:11:00.000-03:00

You know, I LOVE teaching Hawthorne -- he's just so gorgeous. Maybe it is just me, I know, but ...

I found out today that I am NOT to teach Hawthorne, but I do have to teach Cooper's The Deerslayer. Great. I have never read it and really don't want to. And now not only do I have to read it, I have to teach it. I hate doing stuff the boring way, so I have to read it and then be creative!

Dammit!

I need a real job.

Fire Drill

2007-07-11T19:31:00.000-03:00

My students are good little boys and girls (considering that most of them are covered in gang tattoos and are twice my size). Whomever pulled the fire alarm wasn't one of mine. We were busily reading Miller's The Crucible. The kids seem to actually like it. They fight over the parts to read and they laugh at all the right places. They are actually paying attention. So, when we had to drop everything and walk calmly out, they were genuinely ticked off. Go figure.

Honestly, it was probably because they knew they had to get 1/2 way through Act 2 or they couldn't come to the computer lab. It wasn't the play, I guess. Damn.

HoHum

2007-07-06T19:08:00.000-03:00

I'm not happy. My dog seems to be happy. I'm not happy. I am not a happy person. I used to have a life and I used to be relatively happy. Now, I'm not.

Would someone please hire me???? I promise to work really, really hard and to be a really good teacher (if I get the chance to teach). See? I'm teaching right now! I have 14 students supposedly blogging their answers to "Is honesty really the best policy?" Earlier, they all wrote me stories that they "created" based on "Paris Street -- Rainy Day" that I put up on the overhead for them.

I love that painting. I feel happy when I see that painting. So I was happy for a few minutes, today.

Only a Nana Story ....

2007-07-03T17:05:00.000-03:00

I know it's been a long time. I'm busy teaching summer school and looking for a job. So, only a "Nana" story would bring me out of hibernation.

I am broke. This comes from many years of subsisting on student loans. So, because of an "emergency" situation, I had to borrow money from Nana. I am teaching in the afternoons, so I had to pick her up at EXACTLY 9:00 this morning. We went to the bank. I hate her bank for reasons innumerable and irrefutable.

In her lock box right on top was an envelope with two mature CD's. One was for $18,000 something and the other was for exactly $53,999.02. She rolled the $18,000 something into a new CD and then took $3000 out of the other one. She gave me what I needed out of that and took the rest in cash for the riverboat. Whatever.

She asked me to come back to her house, write out some checks for her to sign, balance her checkbook, and pick up a couple of things she wanted to send home.

The first check was a gift to my parents for their wedding anniversary on the 4th. It's their 43rd anniversary so, as generous as my millionare grandmother can be, she wrote them a check for $43.00 [dripping sarcasm].

Next, she gave me the remote control that goes with the television that she put out on the street over the weekend and that has since "disappeared." She told me to give it to Doug because it could be worth something (the remote, not the broken television). She repeated several times that the remote was a Magnavox. It said "Zenith" on it, but who am I to argue?

Finally, she gave me a Ziplock with an envelope in it. The envelope was stuffed with old, used, empty packets of stool softener. I was to give this envelope to my mother and show her how to cut up these packets so that my mother could use them as emergency dental floss.

I don't know what to say.

I've gotta go. I swear I'll post more for both of my readers later.

School Daze

2007-05-04T13:49:00.000-03:00

I'm certain I've titled a post with this same title, before. Who cares, though? School Updates:

Stupid Online Class: That goofy woman (the dingbat) who taught this course was really good about tanking my group paper grades and my individual paper grades. I was certain she hated my writing. I busted my butt in this class. When it came down to it, though, I was just out of gas when it came to this course final. I had to write a 10 page, 3 primary text, 3 secondary source paper. Yeah. I went through the effort of chosing 4 of our primary texts (go figure, I actually read all of the books). I chose 4, mostly, because I was afraid I couldn't bullshit for any more than about 2 1/2 pages per book. I pulled off JStor the first articles in full text that I could find that were even remotely connected to my primary texts--1 article per text. They really had nothing to do with my stated thesis. As a matter of fact, my PAPER had nothing to do with my stated thesis. That 10 page paper was the biggest piece of crap I've ever turned in -- I didn't even proofread it! I just attached it to an e-mail and sent it off on Monday afternoon. Tuesday morning I got an e-mail from the professor that I got an A in the class and did not have to attend the final exam that night. What the fuck? I wish I had some other reaction to this, but, really, all I can think is "What the fuck?"

I finished up my ESL class last night. Again. Total waste of time, God bless the very sweet woman who taught the class, but really. Total waste of time.

I have only my 20 page paper to write for Dr. Giles. I'm using Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, by Anne Tyler again -- this time, my focus is "spaces." I'm lovin' the idea of thirdspace. The whole concept of realandimagined might be a little beyond my knowledge -- today -- but I have Soja's book on space and I am going to read it, dammit. I would have been much further along by now had I been able to lay my hands on the RIGHT book. Note to self, just because it says "Third Space" does not mean the book is about "thirdspace", even if it is by the same author. I am very excited because in my re-read of the novel, I am finding spaces everywhere. There is a much more pronounced second space than I really remembered. I'm still convinced that only Cody has a thirdspace, but we'll see.

Okay. So this is due on, probably, Tuesday-ish (though I can turn it in later than that -- Wednesday at 6:00). I have an interview on Monday in Clifton, Illinois. Don't ask. We'll see.

I'm subbing for an Honors class at Oswego East right now. I want to go to bed really bad. It's 12:03 and I don't get out of here until 2:30. Hell.

I've Finally Got It

2007-04-23T12:08:00.000-03:00

All these years, Albina, among others, has been bugging me to write a book. I've thought about it. I mean, I'm a pretty good writer when I want to be -- or not. Anyway, I've thought about using the whole Nana thing, but Anne Tyler did it in Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant. I thought about Jack, but Mitch Albom did it in Tuesdays With Morrie. Then of course that one guy did it with Marley and Me--you know, my Lia story. Everyone else is making money off of my life stories :)

So what if I use someone else's life? I could, I suppose. But, who could possibly be more interesting than me? :) Um, pond scum?

But I digress. I think I've got it. I have a story, but will it have a happy ending? Probably not. Not sharing more--just can't.

Went to Milwaukee (or "mil-i-wa-kay", as Alice Cooper would put it). David Pirner is just about totally hot! He was definitely having fun. It was such a great time! Very, very, small crowd--maybe about 200 people. I can't speak for Steve, but I had a blast! Milwaukee is a cool town. Steve kept saying he had fun--even Saturday night he said so. Expensive hotel, but we both agreed THAT was worth it. I think we may have stalled too much over the last month, but really -- it WAS worth it. I just had a great time and for the 4th time seeing Soul Asylum, that was just PERFECT. Love, love, LOVE that band.

Gotta go.

Random Catch-Ups

2007-04-02T17:32:00.000-03:00

Let's see ... he loved me once ... maybe he does, now. Mom & Dad = about to be homeless. Me = jobless and about to be homeless. Lia = beautiful, but about to be homeless and 2 years old.

Applied for lots of jobs. We'll see.

I hate school and don't even want to write another paper.

Feel pretty good most of the time. Losing a little more weight -- on a hunger strike -- have no appetite.

I need a job.

Nana = living in bug-infested shit hole and won't move. One of us is about to call whatever department we can to turn her selfish, egotistical, stingy ass in.

Going to see Soul Asylum in Milwaukee later this month.

Summing up Christmas

2007-01-12T21:49:00.000-03:00

Is there anything else to say?

Oops ...

2006-12-12T17:02:00.001-03:00

And Stephanie had her baby yesterday morning.

The Joys of Doggie Motherhood

2006-12-12T16:55:00.000-03:00

What are you eating? Why are you barking? Get inside right now. Stop digging in the mud. That's the same cat you've known since you were a baby. She smells the same as she did five minutes ago. Why are you looking at me like that? What are you eating? Stay off the counter. Off! Down! Stop barking, already. No, you can't go for a ride in the car. I can't afford to buy you Coldstone Creamery -- you're getting Baskin Robbins. What are you eating? No! Stop! Off! Down! Really! What ARE you eating??

But ... she is my baby. Even without responses to any of these questions -- even though she shows no remorse whatsoever over anything -- even though any training seems to have gone to waste -- I know she loves me, and that's about the best feeling in the world.

Wow

2006-12-11T13:34:00.000-03:00

I know why I'm not getting a teaching job.

One word comes to mind. Let's just say it's the "C" word that most women hate. I have used it to describe only one person in the past. I am using it very loudly in my head (and once verbally -- sorry, Albina).

I had better stop, now because I have an overwhelming urge to type it.

Post Script

2006-12-09T01:32:00.000-03:00

The first time Stephanie had a baby, I had given a MIG party at my apartment (I forget why, but who needed a reason?). Early that morning, I vacated the young man who had, let's say, shared my bed with me that night, because the phone was ringing. The person said, "Hey, Kristen. It's Jack." I repeated the name back and had terrible confusion as to why Jack Pfaffmann was calling me and how he knew that I had a MIG party. It took a good 30 seconds of foggy confoundness for me to sort out that it was Stephanie's husband telling me that they were at the hospital.

The second time Stephanie gave birth, I, quite coincidentally, was in bed with the same young man the night before I got a phone call from Jack.

A few days ago, I was running late coming home from DeKalb and I called home. My mom answered and told me Jack had called. I was quite excited about this and joked with my mother that I had only been teasing Stephanie when I told her it would be convenient for her to have the baby the next day. My mother was really confused by my excited rambling and said, "Kristen! Jack PFAFFMANN called."

How weird is this?

We're still waiting for Stephanie's new baby to make his appearance. I think the delay may be my fault. I have slept alone for a few months and that young man is damned near engaged to a young lady I hear is absolutely wonderful. It reminds me, though, that I need to call him to say "hi."

Shopping

2006-12-08T20:59:00.000-03:00

Mom wanted to go to TJ Maxx and More. This is in Lisle. So, we stop, first, at Doug's house and we hang up the wreath that Mom bought for him. This was, like anything else I ever do with her, an ordeal. She had bought some pretty, silver hooks. These were supposed to hang on any surface. It would not, of course, hang on Doug's door. I'm smart. I had an over-the-door hanger in one of my totes in Doug's garage. I knew EXACTLY where it was -- which is funny, because I have no idea what is there.

Then we went to Joe's house. The hook worked on Joe's door because it is a glass storm door. But it didn't seem to work very well. We left it there and decided to check on it later. We also discovered that the wreaths came with a big jingle bell buried in the bottom of the box. We hooked it on and went on our way.

So off to TJ Maxx and More. Mom, though, heads down Wolf Road. I argued with her and even though I had never been there, I said it was the wrong way to get there. I call Dad and explain that she wants to go "Wolf Road to 30 and turn left on that one road down the hill like we used to go to swim meets." Um-hmm. I told her that "the one road down the hill" was 75th street. When I made her turn left on Douglas Road, she started yelling at me that I was wrong and she'd show me. I told her I wasn't. She was quite angry and told me that when she proved that she was right, she would punch me in the face and knock all of my teeth down my throat.

Yeah. I knew this was an empty threat and I also knew that she was wrong so I wasn't worried. A little later as we drove "down the hill like we used to go to swim meets," I got an apology (and Moose Munch -- don't ask).

We forgot to stop by Joe's to make sure the wreath was still up. Dad and I checked and it was solid on there. It's all good. Doug, in the meantime, found his wreath and called to thank us. I explained where the bell was while we were on the phone. He kept yelling that every time he opened the door, Amber would come running and jump on the door. This was dumb. He didn't need to open the door to put the bell on properly. Dad and I ran by there and I fixed Doug's fargin' bell. MEN!

I got the rest of a certain friend's Christmas gift in the mail, today. I am very excited because in addition to the two pieces of merchandise that I ordered, I got 3 extra pieces that are very nice to add to the gift. Total bonus. Almost makes up for the fact that the shipping cost me twice as much as what I ordered -- and that was UPS ground.

I'm done with my Rhetoric class. I have a final exam in Morphology on Monday. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I have to go out early to talk to Bonnie about the "proposal" for my Independent Reading class.

I subbed at Plainfield, again, yesterday. I subbed at Thompson Jr. High on Wednesday -- interesting note, my high school Algebra teacher was also subbing there (purportedly to earn money to pay for his daughter's divorce lawyer). I have a story about this which I will not share because I think it would really bother that teacher that I remember such a horrible outburst. It doesn't bother me at all (and really didn't bother me much, then), but I know it would bother him. Let's just suffice it to say I was a little shit in high school and I think I deserved it.

I really want a job at Plainfield North.

Check, please!

2006-12-04T20:39:00.000-03:00

A student loan check, that is. Also, not having to WRITE a check to the CHIPS program (comprehensive health insurance through the State of Illinois) for around $400 a month.

Yeah, I give up. I am taking classes next semester. I think I'll be quitting the BP, soon. I have to work Wednesday night (I think Wednesday, anyway). They only scheduled me for 6 hours this week. Not worth it! I just hate the damned job.

So, back to school. I got a cool schedule, though. I have an on-line course for which I only have to meet at the Naperville campus 3 times all term (it's a topic course and, frankly, I really don't care, but it's on law and business in literature -- I'm betting Bleak House or Martin Chuzzlewit will show up). I have an independent reading for which I never have to come to campus (thank you, Dr. Giles -- I love him! Steinbeck it is. Yeah!). And I have a methods course in English as a Second Language being taught through NIU at the fargin' WCC campus! YEAH!!! So, once a week I have to go to Sugar Grove, three times in the next semester, I have to go to Naperville, and I'll need a little library time to write what I assume will be a 20-page paper on something Steinbeck for Dr. Giles. I won't cheat. I really will write a fresh paper and read something other than East of Eden.

Yeah. I'm so obnoxious. I will probably die long before my student loans are paid in full. Whatever. I asked my parents what they thought about me going to law school. They, like me, figure I'll die long before I have to pay this stuff off. Without any kind of an estate, well, can't get blood out of a turnip!

[DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO INTENTION WHATSOEVER OF GOING TO LAW SCHOOL ...yet...]

Weird Dreams

2006-12-03T13:42:00.000-03:00

First, I had this post all thought out in my head. It was clever, concise, pithy ... and then Blogger made me switch to Beta which, basically, cost me a lot of time. Thus, I forgot, really, what I wanted to say.

I had weird dreams. Although I never saw it, I know there was a musical driven by ABBA songs. It seemed really cool to me because I grew up with, literally, ABBA. So I guess I must have had this in my head at some point last night. I had a dream about a former friend of mine having a musical based upon his life that was completely driven by music he wrote. It was really goofy.

I woke up with a song in my head that I have never associated with that person. Maybe the whole thing was an Avonex-driven delusion ... or it was, in fact, just a weird dream.

Lia's ear infection seems to be getting better. I knew it must have been really bad because whenever I would tell her, "Mama going to fix the ears" she would run and sit in front of me. She let me put the drops in. She has always been very difficult, before, when it came to putting drops in her ears. I think she was in a lot of pain. I am not running this vet bill by VPI because I am worried that they will consider this an exempt condition -- she had an ear infection before I got VPI. Veterinary Pet Insurance, by the way, is about the coolest thing ever. For around $20 a month, I have the peace of mind that I will be able to afford to take my dog to the vet if she's sick. Swimmer's Tail -- the oddest condition I've ever heard of -- sent us to the emergency vet in the middle of the night. That bill was around $300. VPI paid me back around $250-ish of the bill. I had only been with them about 4 months at that point. What a darned relief. And let us not forget the "I ate goofy plants that Gramma thought were cool" episode. X-Rays and what not cost me well over $100. I'll be getting a check for that this week for at least $80.

I hate that I have to work another demeaning job in order to support myself. I mean, dammit! I have a fargin' Masters! I was pretty sore after my most recent shift. But at least all I had to really do (other than ring on the register) was to spend about 1 1/2 hours in the cooler stocking beer/pop. All good ... really. I calculated the number of time I have to work there. 9 months-ish -- 4 x 9 is 36 weeks. 36 weeks x 2 shifts per week is 72 shifts. I've already worked 6, so only 66 more shifts to go. And I get health insurance at only 10 hours per week. Yeah! This reminds me that I have to run up there and check my schedule for this week. \

Lia is sleeping in her crate. It always amazes me how much she likes her crate. It's like "safe zone" to her. She decides when to go in and when to come out. Let's say, though, that she's been upstairs at "the buffet" (I won't translate that for those of you to whom I haven't complained about the disgusting habit). If I catch her, I yell at her and tell her, "That's naughty. You go downstairs and get in the crate." For some reason, she knows that this time is a punishment and she will wait until I tell her, "okay" before she comes out. Go figure.

Whew. I'm really tired. I sub during the week almost every day. I work one night per week at the gas station. I have school two nights a week. I judge Speech meets on Saturday and work at the gas station on Sunday. I only get a day off if I turn down a sub job on Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday AND happen to not work at the gas station that evening. Shit. I got tired just typing that.

Gotta go sleep, now.

Have I mentioned that Nana is ... well ...

2006-10-30T18:07:00.000-03:00

So a few weeks ago (and most of my friends have heard this story), an SUV a few cars ahead of me on Annie Glidden flipped over. I was the first person to run down to help the girl. The two gentlemen with us (they got there about 30 seconds after I did) helped me get the girl (who was not injured) away from the BURNING car wreck. I wrapped the girl in the blanket I had in the trunk of my car. It was one of those cheepo fleece throws that you can buy at places like Target. It was purple. I liked it. But really. The girl was clearly in shock and it was cold and wet outside. Instinct says that she would be in shock and needed to be covered. This is really a story that is much more detailed and feel free to call me if you haven't been privileged enough to hear it.

Here's the point: someone told my grandmother about it. She called me and instead of offering kudos on my bravery (maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but ...), she told me that I needed to go to the police department in DeKalb and ask for my blanket back because the right thing for that girl and her family to do was to return it.

It cost me about $8.00 to replace.

Rhetoric Post

2006-10-26T00:02:00.000-03:00

Every week (well, most weeks), Dr. Eubanks, the professor for my rhetoric class, wants us to write up a one-page response to our weekly readings. This week, I was to read two articles. The first was an article from the internet about blogs. The second was actually two chapters of a book, the title of which, I think, was "Stuff and Fluff."

In the interest of continuing to attempt to manufacture a "quirky" voice, I am writing my response paper on my blog. Perhaps this is merely an attempt to make this feel like less of an assignment and more of a pastime. Perhaps this is just an attempt to catch up on my blog (I have been quite lax for the last few months). Perhaps this is an attempt to bring a little bit of class to my personal blogosphere. The author, Miller, said, "The kairos of American popular culture in the late 1990s thus seems a fulfillment of Baudrillard’s 1981 perception that the relations between the real and the simulated have reversed: that rather than representing the real, the simulation constitutes the real (1994)"

This is the internet article I had to read.

Now, if I knew who "Baudrillard" was, maybe I would have gotten a little more out of this article. Nevertheless, I think I do get the gist of the article. Blogs, according to the author of this article, can be looked at as a kind of filtering device for information (she claims they are "descended" from "logs"). I can see this, I suppose. If one was to read only my blog (God forbid), the filtered information the reader would receive would be that my grandmother is a selfish, old woman (which reminds me ... I owe the blog a Nana update). On the other hand, let us take for example Tom's blog. The reader would end up with filtered information about graphic novels and B-movies. I suppose if that's what someone is looking for, great. If not, what kind of a filter is this?

Okay. So I, personally, think of blogs as very public diaries. Well, arguably, diaries are always intended to be private records, but does the author ultimately intend for there to be another audience? I suppose that my friends (Jeff, Chris, Albina, John) are still reading my blogs when I get around to posting. There was a brief period in my life when I was keeping a diary. The blog and the diary, to me, are both private thoughts that I share with friends when warranted. They are self-discovery, self-promotion, self-expression, yada, yada, yada.

Why, on earth, do any of us keep blogs anyway? Here's a nifty quote:

"Mallon goes further to make the general social-constructionist claim that “Writing-for-self does not exist in any real sense. … Ultimately all discourse is intended for an audience other than the self who is doing the writing” (1984, p. 66). Elbow disagrees, maintaining that in several nontrivial senses writing can be “private” and the self can constitute a sufficient audience (1999). Like the diary, the blog is a phenomenon that illustrates this debate, without resolving it."

I really have no more room for philosophizing about blogs; thus, I move quickly, and as succinctly as possible, to the other piece for this week. The thrust of the two chapters I read from Richard Lanham’s book, The Economics of Attention: Style and Substance in the Age of Information were so incredibly accessible (for a pleasant change from traditional academic-style prose) that I might actually go buy the book (to read if I ever get to work a job where I have the time to read). “Stuff and Fluff” was the title of the first of the chapters. I liked, best, that Lanham made me feel that my blog wasn’t really fluff because (occasionally) my blog is in the business of information. Further, he seemed to agree with me that there is something indispensable about the “smell” of a book (with binding) without totally writing off the e-book. I don’t much care for e-books. I cannot see scribbling in blue ink on my computer screen as a viable way to read. But I do agree that our brains will adapt to the information presented through a computer monitor (though I don’t know how or why he even tried to read any literature through his palm pilot). I haven’t as yet, bought in to the bigger is better culture, but I admit to having my own “stuff.”

Now, Dr. Eubanks also likes us to submit questions for class discussion. My questions are inevitably mundane and rarely make sense to even me, but here goes:

1) I followed along with Miller when she set out her answers to what motivates someone to begin a blog (be it marketing or social interaction, etc.), but I don’t think that Miller really answered the question as to what motivates someone to “continue” a blog. What does?

2) Can we or will we blame the computer, the electronic age, for the loss (or eventual loss) of “formal eloquence?” Is this, instead, simply a manifestation of the universal laws of languages—languages change.

An update, I guess

2006-10-01T18:21:00.000-03:00

I know I should have something to say. After all, it's been a long time since I last posted. I have an interview coming up for a job. The interview is on Wednesday. I am planning on dropping my Contemporary British Women's Novelists course. I hate it. I don't want to write even one more damned paper. Lia is feeling better after a terrible bout of "something." At least, that's what Sandwich Vet called it. MacGregor also had a recent stay at Sandwich Vet for "something." Animals should talk. At least they could tell us what is wrong! That's all I have for today.

Family

2006-09-02T11:52:00.000-03:00

Only family knows you so well that in a fight, they go directly for the jugular -- the issues and comments they know will hurt you the worst.

I do it. It's not fair to talk about this without admitting to my own propensity for doing this.

So, to keep this incredibly direct, I want everyone to call and congratulate me. I gave myself my shot this week without any direction from anyone else. YEAH! It hurt less. Emotionally and physically. I can now be independent. The only thing holding me here, now, is my 80 pound lap dog -- who, by the way, is the most gorgeous dog anyone ever, ever saw.

Stuck in my Craw

2006-08-29T15:11:00.000-03:00

I believe that's the saying for when something just keeps bugging you. I really need to do something about this, but I'm actually relieved that I haven't, yet. Maybe I won't blow up and lose control. I always do when I sit on stuff too long.

I worked with several people who just bugged me. One of them, I am convinced, 1) ratted me out for helping a student too much (in his humble opinion); 2) stole my really nice stapler that I had bought for my desk; 3) stole my beautiful mechanical pencil that I used to update grades; 4) stole the last box of office supplies that I left sitting on my desk over last summer; 5) is a complete jerk to me every time I see him (including when he arbitrarily was assigned to my group that I was asked to lead at the FYCOMP orientation program last week). How do I know that he stole all of this stuff? He was the ONLY one who was present and had the opportunity during every one of the incidents. What bugs me even more is that he went to a Christian college (of which I am quite familiar because of Mike Goode). What kind of a Christian is this? A pretty crappy one.

So my mentee, Terri, has taken over my old desk. She told me that she had to borrow D's stapler, yesterday. I glanced over there (while I was visiting Terri), and lo and behold -- my *&$*%@# stapler! I KNEW IT!

What should I say? I have class with him, tonight. Do I bother? Should I keep my mouth shut? Nevertheless, let's just sufffice it to say that Daniel no longer has a stapler and I feel like the shmuck in Office Space.

The Last Week

2006-07-24T14:32:00.000-03:00

Thank God! We're done with summer school on Wednesday. I am starting to wonder, though, if I should have been a truck driver. I hear they make good money. People really leave them alone, for the most part. When they're done working, they're done. There isn't anything to plan, to grade, to worry about.

We're going to do Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" today. I HATE this story. It makes me angry.

We're also going to do a sensory response on "Paris Street; Rainy Day." The painting, I think, is perfect for this.

I am really worried about how I am going to grade the Research Papers for the 2nd semester group. I anticipate that they will be just awful. I know, though, that at least 2 of the 7 will be, at least, readable. Susana is doing her paper on the Trujilo dictatorship in the Dominican Republic. Erik is writing his on Master P. No matter how much I can't stand that "gangsta," Erik has proven to be my surprise for the term. We started out rough, but then ... he has just surprised me and proven to be a pretty good writer. Smart kid. Too bad he just doesn't seem to be headed in the right direction. Prayer. I think I will have to pray for that kid. He might just surprise me in this, too.

Feeling good -- for 38 with MS. Lia's tail is all better after the whole "swimmer's tail" incident. Who'd've thought?? God, I love those multi-contraction, non-words.

John and I are, hopefully, doing lunch next week. Oh, and I called NIU today -- not too late for me to get financial aid for the Fall term (that I am going to have to take because I don't have a damned job, yet).

Oh, I really need to follow up with East because they supposedly have a position open in their PLATO program. Rumor has it that it's a totally cush job and that it will probably lead to a real teaching job. I'll try, anyway.

Gotta go and teach in a few minutes.

Afterthought

2006-07-19T17:09:00.000-03:00

This is for Jeff (since he had so much trouble finding the post for which he was looking) -- July 16th. In this case, the birthday when I spent 4 hours at the emergency vet (and $300.00 -- good thing I had that veterinary pet insurance) with my dog who has, get this, "swimmer's tail" (she's better, today, but I won't let her swim again until at least this weekend).

School Daze

2006-07-19T11:46:00.000-03:00

Only 6 more days of summer school. I may be more excited about the end that is in sight than the students. When I'm done, I'll post more.

Bunch of Rambling

2006-07-03T14:25:00.000-03:00

I have been on Avonex for 6 weeks, now. It's going well. I haven't had anything I'd call a side effect, yet. This makes me worry, a little - as stupid as that sounds. If I don't have any side effects, is it working? I've decided that I will tell myself that it is working very, very well. This way, maybe my body will believe it.

I have been teaching at WCC (the East High kids) for 2 weeks. I am always tired. I did, though, get a little break. By the end of the first week, my first block had 10 kids and my second block had 20. WCC, in its infinite wisdom for which it is so well known, decided to bring the 2 kids who were taking the Sugar Grove class over to the Aurora campus. Their teacher came with them. Ben. Coincidentally, his last name is Peterselli. Even more coincidentally, his classroom at Wheaton North is right next to Linda's classroom (you know, the woman who gave me the tickets to the Globe when I went to London -- she was a customer of mine at HD and then a classmate of mine at NIU).

So, the first block class we teach together and take turns planning for, and we split the second bl0ck in half. Shortly thereafter, I lost 3 of my students to absences (they only get 2 and are dropped automatically on the 3rd absence). This leaves me with only 8 students of my own and 10 students that I share with Ben. This is much, much more manageable. The small class size has helped me get control of some of the students that were previously out of control. I think ALL of my students are passing right now and only 1 of them is getting less than a C -- weirdly enough, he is one of my "good" kids. I think he just is too lazy to complete the homework in class with the rest of the class -- I mean, they have time to work on the homework in pairs during class, and then I go over the "right" answers with them. The only real effort the students need to make is to get their butts out of their chairs and put the homework in the damned folder I leave on the front table -- and for crying out loud, they have to pass the folder to take their breaks! And we wonder why our society is falling apart.

Cat is in DC for that month-long study at Georgetown for the fellowship she won. Shane went to join her for the holiday weekend. Guess who gets to babysit Philly? No, Jeff, it wasn't Joe! And they paid me a whopping $20 for the 4 days I have to drag my ass over there. Hmmm. I shouldn't complain, I know.

Doug brought Amber over on Saturday. She was with us about 12 hours. I took Lia and Amber out to the pool around 6:00 and got in myself for a little bit. Amber jumped in and swam all by herself! This was very exciting for Lia who has needed a pool buddy.

Joe bought a house. He should be closing on it and moving in within about a month. It's a cute little tri-level in downtown Oswego (kind of by Traughber). I guess that Janelle, Doug, Mike and I (note the absence of the Oxford comma, there -- I mean, we're in the U.S.!) are going to pitch in together for a gift card to Target. Between what I have, what my mother got for Doug that he's not using, and what Joe has, himself, he really doesn't need much outside of things like toilet paper, garbage bags and laundry soap.

Mom and Dad are trying to refinance again -- this might be enough to save them, but I sincerely doubt it. If I could just get a damned job, we could fix all of this -- I could fork over everything I make aside from a litttle to pay off my loans, etc. Actually, if I could just win the lottery, everything would be okay for them. I heard a rumor, though, that in order to win the lottery, you have to buy a ticket. Is that true?? No wonder, then, that I haven't won yet!

Well, I'm pretty early for school, today, so I decided to kill some time by posting. I still have about 45 minutes, but I want to check my e-mail. Happy 4th!

Need to Say

2006-06-05T23:11:00.000-03:00

A very good woman, a woman who was very good to me and who has lived a very hard life with cancer for many years now, is dying. I just wanted to say that. I will think of her often and hope that her remaining hours are comfortable.

2006-06-04T15:54:00.000-03:00

I had a second dose of Avonex on Friday. Still a 1/2 dose and still no problems. The double vision hasn't returned full time so far. I have a few moments here and there, but it seems to be going away.

I was supposed to have an interview at Driscoll Catholic in Addison on Friday, but the woman called while I was backing out of the driveway. She had a funeral to go to and apologized profusely, but I really was just backing out so I was fine with that. We've rescheduled for Wednesday at 10:00 a.m. I am really hoping that it works out because that would be a major load off my mind.

I have to go up and wash the kitchen floor because Michael's girlfriend, Bailey (I think that's how it's spelled) is coming over this evening. He was home this weekend and helped a lot with Mom's outside projects. He still didn't take down the damned Christmas tree, though. That really ticks me off. I mean ... it's fucking JUNE!!! Good thing, I guess, that the living room is not open to visitors and that no one can see the damned tree unless they actually go in there. But, it's still embarassing [NOTE: I AM NEVER SURE IF I'VE SPELLED THAT WORD CORRECTLY].

I had better return to my cleaning. I have to do the floor, clean the bathr0om, and run 3 more loads of laundry. Oh, and I really should run to the laundromat in Sugar Grove to wash Mom's and my comforters.

Good news, for a change

2006-05-29T01:03:00.000-03:00

I started on Avonex on Friday. My doctor had me take only a 1/2 dose. He wanted me to take 3 Aleve when I took the shot, and another 2 the next morning -- 5 in a 12 hour period (recommended dosage only 3 in a 24 hour period). So, I did as instructed -- Mom gave me the shot.

First, it didn't hurt. I used to give blood pretty often and that hurt a lot more.

Second, I didn't go on Avonex a year ago when I was first diagnosed because I was afraid of the side effects. Yes, I only took 1/2 dose and I won't be up to full dosage for a month, but even if my side effects are twice as bad, the reality is that zero times two is still zero. No problems whatsoever. I slept fine. No soreness, no aching, no fever, no chills. Nothing. Mom read up on this and she says that a lot of people do well on this step-up method, then don't react well to the full dose. I am not scared any more, though. I rarely experience side effects from anything and I am really hoping that this will continue to be the same.

And, great news ... the double vision seems to be subsiding. I took the prism off today and have seen clearly for most of the day. Once in a while I get a moment or two of screwed-up sight, but I feel better because I'm not stumbling around so much -- I'm not as unsure on my feet as I have been since I started using the prism. Yeah!

And, the best news -- I went back on Lexapro yesterday. I admit it. I hit bottom. I was pushing the line at suicidal, and I knew it. I called the shrink at school and told him that I just wanted one day where I didn't really care so much about not yet having a job and about having MS. He saw me and gave me a 12 week supply (cause I'm broke and have no prescription coverage). And I got my wish -- who really cares about such trivial shit as jobs and debilitating diseases? Happy, happy, happy.

I'd be much happier, though, if Ophelia would stop "big girl barking" at the kids in the yard next door on their damned trampolene. It's really time for bed, dammit.

Hope Doesn't Really Float

2006-05-24T01:30:00.000-03:00

I'm not really sure what "Hope Floats" means, in spite of the fact that I've paid attention to the key lines in the movie -- whenever I'm unfortunate enough to encounter it on bad Saturday reruns, anyway.

Okay, so I have a few more leads on jobs. The hold up, now, is my lack of letters of rec. Eric is doing one for me. Jack's is "in the mail." DJ's is beautiful and ready. Ellen's is also beautiful and ready. I have to go out to pick up the one from Eric on Friday and I'll get my transcript from NIU -- and, by the way, I found out that with a retake on the GRE, my GPA could actually get me into the program at NIU for a PhD -- and we all know how very badly I want one ... [INSERT DRIPPING SARCASTIC TONE, HERE].

On a fun note -- even with my left eye still impaired (with the prism which is correcting my double vision), I was able to take a twisted coat hanger and retrieve Jeff's car keys off the floor of his car at Harner's, today. Yeah! I was just so damned impressed with myself. I can still do stuff :)

My mother talked me into buying a whole bunch of clothes from QVC, today. I ordered 4 pairs of capris, 3 short sets (tops & shorts), and a square-necked top. So, since I really didn't have tops to match the capris I ordered, on the way home from Harner's, I ducked into Fashion Bug and bought 5 tops. I figure the day's shopping set me back $250.00 -- but I have plenty of clothes, now, for teaching this summer.

I had an idea for the summer course I wanted to get down really fast -- I got the job based on the "idea" of getting the students to create their own electronic portfolios. This has NEVER been tried with high school students -- especially a bunch of kids who failed Sophomore English and got forced into summer school because of language barriers (ESL, primarily). It may be absolutely impossible, but I really think I can pull it off. Eric offered to help me create a template like the Webography zip drive we used in 104. I think this could work for individual portfolios, but once my mind spins a little more, I think I could turn this into a small group project that would produce more viable portfolios. I have to sleep on this a few more nights.

In the mean time, I have to get lesson plans going. I am going to have these kids for 4 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 5 weeks. That's basically 100 1-hour lessons. Fuck me. It takes me a while to plan each 1-hour lesson. I really, really, have my work cut out for me, but it's nowhere near as much as these poor kids have to handle. They are going to get about 2 hours of homework per night. These are kids who can't hardly read and they are going to have to read 2 novels, a dozen short stories, a play, some non-fiction, and will have to write 2 long papers -- all in 5 weeks!

This is going to really suck for them. I guess that's what they get for not pulling it together during the school year. Bye-bye summer. I mean, high schools only get about 9 weeks off for summer -- they get two weeks before the class starts and two weeks after. I am really going to have to figure out how to motivate them -- oh wait -- that's what grades are for. If they fail this ... they have to repeat their entire Sophomore year. Um, I may not be as altruistic as some people -- no way is this motivation. I guess I'm a cynic after all.

Everyone says ...

2006-05-20T14:13:00.000-03:00

Most of my family and friends have told me to not worry about the fact that I don't have a job lined up for this Fall, yet. Pardon me, but I think I'll worry. I'm a worrier by nature, so this is nothing new. Of course, my latest exacerbation won't go away until I stop stressing. And the exacerbation is causing more stress than anything else. I am a little more relaxed about it, now, because the doctor put a prism on my lens that brings everything together and allows me to see straight (except when I'm looking down or walking -- gee, thanks). But I can drive! Yeah.

I was crying about this on Thursday morning, but after I saw Dr. Davis again on Thursday afternoon, I felt a lot better. She said that my vision is getting better -- about a 25% improvement over a week ago. And, if this doesn't go away -- hey, she can operate! Great. But, she says it WILL go away and that she hasn't ever had to do anything about this type of problem stemming from MS -- only from little things like diabetes and traumatic injury. Um, that's sort of reassuring?

In the meantime, my first shipment of Avonex has arrived. We have to wait for a nurse to come and show us (Mom and I) how to do the injection, so it will probably be next Friday night when I finally get started. I'm really not afraid of needles -- I never have been. And pain? Hell. It just can't be THAT bad. It's the side effects that concern me. But on that note, Dr. Stefoski assures me that he can "fix" any side effects and that they will go away after a few months, anyway. I get to overdose on Aleve, which I've never taken. I will exceed the recommended dosage by 3 pills (5 in a 12 hour period -- 3 before the injection and 2 the next morning), at my wonderful, awesome, EXPENSIVE doctor's advice.

Okay, on to a new subject ... the WCC job starts on June 20th. I have to have virtually ALL of my lesson plans written and ready by then. My books finally arrived late yesterday afternoon and I can pick them up on Monday. Oh yeah ... and I have to get stuff off to Jack for him to get me my letter of recommendation, pick up one from school, pick up my transcript (and I got straight A's -- I think I've mentioned this before) and make more progress on cleaning out my office.

I need a third bookcase in my room, but I have nowhere to put it. The shelves of the ones I have are overflowing with literature from the earliest English poems to contemporary literature -- and I'm just not willing to part with them. My mother suggested that I give away anything I haven't read. Hmmm. Good idea, except that it would only empty one fargin' shelf at best. I am so proud of myself. To think, one of my earliest journal entries (from the year I first moved in to Sugar Grove -- '94 I think), was about how embarassed I was at not having really READ anything outside of historical romance novels. And now ... well ... I'm literate and stuff.

I have papers on every genre of English literature from Early English poetry, to Medieval Women Writers (the wacko Margery Kempe who I got to PRESENT on at a conference a few months ago), to Steinbeck to Angela Carter, to Anne Tyler. What the hell. This looks like a trend. I have to issue this statement in defense of myself: I never wanted to "specialize" in women's fiction. But the current critical climate has forced me to examine works I never wanted to read -- and pick them apart.

I got an A on my Anne Tyler paper for three reasons (according to my professor's comments):

1) I didn't bow to my instructor's published criticism, and instead, picked it apart and dissented from her conclusions -- yeah, that took some guts, I guess, but I really didn't like her anyway -- at that point, I didn't give a damn about the paper, the class, my grade, or even graduating -- but I got an A anway -- I wonder if it was BECAUSE I didn't care that it was good ...;

2) In 17 pages, I only used "to be" verbs about 10 times;

3) I put a new spin on an author that has been pigeonholed as "feminist". So I guess we can call my critical approach "anti-feminist".

I think I am going to go and rake the back patio ... again. Then I'm going to clean the family room because a) my dog is a slob; and b) my brother is a disgusting slob. Gotta go before my mother actually comes down the stairs and beats me.

Long Time, No Post

2006-05-15T18:47:00.000-03:00

Wow. I didn't realize it had been THAT long since I posted. Lots has happened. I graduated. I got a summer job at WCC. I saw my baby brother sing in front of a sold out crowd at UIC Pavillion. I got another MS exacerbation (my left eye, again -- not optic neuritis, this time -- double vision caused by a leasion on a muscle in the left corner of my left eye). Whew. Lots and lots of stuff.

I just don't know what to say except that I'm awfully tired. I have an eye appointment on Thursday and a massage appointment on Friday. I don't really intend to get dressed or leave the house between now and then. I will probably have to make ice cream trips, of course. Janelle and Steve are hiking in the Grand Canyon (and didn't make it to either my or Michael's graduation this past weekend). That's okay. On the up side, my grandmother didn't make it either. Her loss. Hearing Michael sing and knowing he was on stage with Buddy Guy was pretty awesome. In a college where ALL of the 1200 or so graduates are in the arts, I am so incredibly impressed that my brother was chosen to sing. Oh, and he got an agent! I don't know anything else about it except that the agent only gets paid if Michael works. That bodes well, I think.

I signed up for some classes this Fall on the (increasingly good) chance that I still don't have a job. This way, I can get health insurance still through the school. I don't want to take any of these classes, but ... I'm going to see if I can audit so I don't have to write the fuckin' papers.

On that note, I don't know whether or not I passed the classes I had this Spring. I have to wait for the grades to come out to know for sure. I guess Dr. Gomez-Vega has a reputation for giving an incomplete if she doesn't like your paper. I feel okay about the damned thing, but we'll see. I'm sure I passed Dr. Giles class. Probably an A or a B -- and I wish I still gave a shit what the grade actually is.

I'm going back to sleep for a while. Then I'm going to order something incredibly greasy from Dari Hut and lay around for the rest of the evening.

And yes, Chris. I'm still "in" here. As you know, the last few weeks of school are exhausting and because I was grading my students' blogs, I didn't want to deal with my own.

Letters of Recommendation

2006-04-02T12:26:00.000-03:00

I don't feel really guilty about putting off some of my former students. Whenever I have asked for a recommendation I either a) know the person really well; or b) ask that person face-to-face. I have gotten e-mails. I don't mind this because I am not on campus that much. But if the students want a letter out of me, you would think they would show up at the appointed time. I tell them to meet me at X time at Y place. Then I sit there ... and wait ... and wait ... and wait. Then that person leaves a note on my desk with "details" at some point later. I don't think so.

Am I being terrible? Probably. But I bend over backwards for my students and I expect them to meet me 1/8 of the way. This is just one of those things.

The phone is still not ringing with job opportunities. I've applied for some 13 school districts and some 8 community college districts. Nothing. I've been told not to panic because most schools wait until after Spring Break. Cat says that April is hiring time.

The reality is that I went to get my Masters so that I could afford to teach at a Catholic school. I will start applying for those this week (they were on Spring Break last week). If I get into a Catholic school, I will want to pick up part-time jobs at a few community colleges -- maybe 2 per semester? This way, I get the best of both worlds--I teach college and I teach high school.

My Exam

2006-03-29T21:25:00.000-03:00

I Passed!!!

I'm Going to be Sick

2006-03-29T00:49:00.000-03:00

I was at the library all day today. Cat was going out there and I hitched a ride. I worked on my e-portfolio, I sorted through all of my students' papers, I did my MLA assignment for Dr. Gomez-Vega, and I pissed around a little. If, before Cat and I left for lunch at 4:15, I had checked my e-mail, I would have known that my comps results were in my mailbox.

Now, I have to go out early, tomorrow, to check them.

I am going to be sick.

On Thursday, I am meeting Bob at Denny's at 11:00 a.m. to start work on my exam for Dr. Giles. It is due Monday. I have to finish raking the back deck and then pick up Lia's messes from the back yard. Oh, fun, fun, on Friday.

Have I mentioned that I am going to be sick?

Buyer's Remorse

2006-03-17T01:40:00.000-03:00

I know it's not a huge purchase or anything, but I am trying to save up $2,000 to get through the summer without working (that is, if I don't get that WCC position). So, I spent almost $60.00 on Amazon, today. I got some old favorite movies on DVD -- Beautiful Girls (duh), Sixteen Candles (I've caught a bit here and there on television this week), Better Off Dead (while I was thinking of it), and Say Anything (the other movie I was thinking of for my students' critical analysis).

I also ordered a replacement copy of Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant which Ophelia ate (she hates it when I read and chews up any book that I've been reading if I leave it out). The book is for my mom. I maintain that Pearl, the "matriarch" of the family IS my grandmother--right down to the whole "checker-at-a-grocery-store" thing -- oh yeah, and let's not forget the blind thing.

On that note, Nana says she needs a room that is at least 12 x 12 when she move in. Um hm. I don't think so. The average ranch house has a room about that size for a master, not a second bedroom. I have a great idea. Why don't we move her into a nursing home where she can't take any of her own stuff and has to share a room that is 10x10 with another wheasing, hacking, lugieing, (did I spell that right?), smelly, bitchy, cranky, selfish, and procrastinating old woman. Venting. I will get over this, I swear. I hope so, anyway, because if she decides to die any time soon, I'm going to feel like shit. Oh being Catholic really sucks sometimes!

Typical Spring Break for Me

2006-03-13T12:19:00.000-03:00

I've been on Spring Break for 3 days, now. I spent all day yesterday job hunting. Yes, that's right. I sat on my ass and "clicked" for about 5 hours yesterday. As it turns out, almost every school for which I was applying (high school, that is) has an online application program that applicants must complete before even submitting resumes, cover letters, etc. Most of the schools are working from the same program, so I usually just had to "import" my existing application from another school and update the information for each specific school. This means that in about 5 hours I complete, give or take, 10 applications.

I hate this. Why can't it be like in the "real world" where an applicant signs up with an agency, gets a phone call or two a day, gets set up with two or three appointments a week, walks in, sits down, hands the resume to the interviewer, smiles for a few minutes, and walks out with a job? I really do hate this.

So Waubonsee Community College is looking for someone to teach summer school to high school students -- and they are paying a little more than $1500 for each class -- each 8 hour / week class for 8 weeks. With grading time built in, I figure that's about $12.00 / hour for 15 hours a week. I can handle this. They need people with my specific qualifications. Let's see if this will work.

I have a lot of cleaning to do this week and I MUST get through all of my mail, my doctor bills, my claim forms, etc. Gotta, gotta, gotta. I have no grading to, I have to start a paper for Dr. Gomez-Vega, and I have two books to read -- just read. Of course, I only have a month to wrap up this paper, but oh hell. It's a 20 page RESEARCH paper (and if a little argument creeps in, that's fine, too). I think I am definitely going to write on Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, by Anne Tyler -- mostly because Pearl is so much like my grandmother it's scary.

I'm going to start my laundry and, maybe, work a little on the kitchen (that's a 3 day -- maybe 4 day job).

Nothing to do with Foreigner

2006-03-10T00:46:00.000-03:00

I have had pretty serious double vision for about 2 weeks. This started about the time that the dizzy thing stopped. I have the strangest experiences with MS! In my limited experiences thus far, most of the little episodes I have had have lasted about 3-6 weeks (except for the whole face tingling thing -- I think that's probably dental, actually).

Anyway, I noticed the double vision about a day or two before I showed my students Beautiful Girls -- about 10 days ago. Yesterday, I noticed that it was still pretty bad while I was driving to school to wrap up my student conferences. On my way home, though, not even 3 hours later, I noticed that it was totally gone. I can watch television again! Just in time for Spring Break! Yeah!

Of course, I will have to spend a good part of my break cleaning the damned house, reading for the following week, updating student grades, and starting my paper for AmLit 1960-Present. I think I'm going to write on Ann Tyler's Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant. That book was good! I swear, absolutely swear, that the main character, Pearl, lived my Grandmother's life -- the grocery store, the vision problems, the way she completed her obligations, but never really seemed to really and truly "love" anybody. Ann Tyler, by the way, won a Pulitzer in the late 80's, I think, for Breathing Lessons (and I'm pretty sure this was made into a movie).

On a last little note, I swear I'm the easiest teacher ever. How is it that over half of my students are not currently passing my class?? (Must get a C or better or they have to retake it).

Okay, that's all my whining for today. I'm really tired and it's time to go to bed.

Just Don't Know

2006-03-05T01:38:00.000-03:00

I feel okay about the comps, generally. I slept for total shit last night (anxiety, I'm sure) so I am going to try to convey the story quickly.

I got home about 9:30 last night to find Amber here for the night. Dammit. Didn't have energy for that! I took a 45 minute bath. Andy called to wish me good luck. We talked for a little, but we both needed rest.

I closed Amber up in Mom's room about 10:45. I crawled into bed and by 11:30, I was out (I time my sleep with the ending/beginning of the 1/2 sitcom on television -- the one I was watching hadn't ended last I remember). Around midnight, Lia went bezerk, as did Amber. Apparently, Doug came in the house and freaked them both out. Amber went home ... I thought I would sleep. At 3:00, I was still awake and had been listening to Joe snore on the couch for some time. I fell asleep eventually, but my sleep was disturbed by anxiety dreams -- nothing "naked," but I was late and panicked. I hate those dreams.

I met Bob at The Junction for breakfast. We went over the Old English poems and Everyman, again. I'm glad we did.

We both got over to Reavis. Andy was unpacking the bar ... he brought libations for after the exam. 22 of us crammed into NWR, received brief instructions and then were told to open our envelopes and get started.

I wanted to jump for joy! The exam was divided into 3 parts: 1) British Lit pre 1600; 2) British Lit post 1600; 3) American Lit. There were two questions to chose from in each part. I answered the first question I read in the first section0--it asked about the idea of exile and the importance of companionship in the poems and Everyman. YEAH! I didn't even look at the other question, but was the first to start typing and that was within about 2 minutes of the start of the exam. I finished the first question in about 40 (give or take 5 double-spaced pages) minutes and took a cigarette break.

I came back; settled in; looked at the first question in part two--it asked about the narrative structure in Frankenstein and Nights at the Circus. Again -- YEAH! This was the hardest question for me -- I knew the material. I was ready for that specific question. Dr. Swanson asked for a discussion of whether the word (as handed through multiple narrative levels) had meaning in constructing the world for these characters and for the reader. This was a tack-on at the end of the main part of the question which asked us to discuss the effect of the narrative structure on the reader with regard to his/her considering the narrator to be believable. Yeah, I had that part -- it was just the rest of it I'm not thrilled with. I only got about 4 pages here and I really don't know if I truly answered the question. I finished this one up at about 3:30 or so (around 1 1/2 hours).

Again, I took a cigarette break and came back ready to tackle the third part. I still had 1 1/2 hours -- but I finished in about 40 minutes, again -- 5 pages, again. This time, Dr. Layson wanted to know how the idea of parenthood affected the stories of Sutpen (Absalom, Absalom!) and Sethe (Beloved). PERFECT. Bob and I had talked about it a lot.

So, I finished up, e-mailed myself a copy of my answers, took my packet to the Department Chair (Dr. Eubanks) and went to Andy's office for a tall cup of Parrot Bay and Diet Pepsi -- really heavy on the Parrot Bay. I had to beg off after that knowing I had to drive and my eyesight (the double vision) really doesn't cooperate in evening light with headlights from oncoming cars.

I was going to go out with Stephanie tonight, but she's sick. Instead, I watched Proof with my mother and then ended the evening with a shouting match as to whether or not I deserved to have a $200.00 massage and parafin wax body treatment on Thursday. Fuck it. I needed it and it felt damned good.

Okay. That's it. I will advise in a month or so as to whether or not I passed. In the meantime, I'll just stew in my anxiety and wait it out.

Why Nana is Alone

2006-03-01T12:35:00.000-03:00

Nana is an old, selfish, manipulative, mean, bitch. I will say it without pulling any punches because she's gone too damned far this time.

I am going to try to get this story into the most condensed version possible. I don't have the next three hours to write it up.

Yesterday was Lia and Janelle's birthday (and John's birthday, too, but I don't know how to get ahold of him right now -- he's had some issues with that moron roommate of his). Lia and I got up early and went out to Janelle's store for a grooming appointment. Since I was leaving her there, I went to go get some coffee and a sandwich for breakfast at McDonald's . I parked, then, in the parking lot at the detail car wash in front of Janelle's store. I finished up my sandwich and was cleaning up some garbage out of the front seat in preparation for the much-needed detailing, when my phone rang.

We, in the Peters family, don't ever get directly to the point. We're storytellers. This phone call proved no exception to this rule. After about three minutes of narrative (including my mother demonstrating an answering machine indicator with long "beep" noises three different times), I had to tell her to get to the damned point. She said that nobody had been able to get ahold of my grandmother since last Thursday or so inspite of phone calls at various times and an answering machine whose message wait time was getting longer and longer (duh, meaning that she hadn't picked up her messages -- and she always picks up her messages). I cut my mother off short and asked her if she wanted me to go down to Joliet. Yes, I was to go with my sister (because everyone was convinced we were going to find her dead).

Janelle was not even a little happy about this (Mom was on the phone with her at the store while I pulled my car around). I'm sure I've mentioned that Janelle drives like a maniac. She lost me on the way down there. I should have blown her off and taken the back roads. We pounded on the front and side doors at my grandmother's shit-box, hell-hole, piece-of-shit house in the slum part of Joliet. I also knocked at the bedroom and den windows. When we didn't get a response and couldn't find the hidden key, we went ahead and called 911. Whomever my sister explained the situation to knew immediately that Nana had been taken via ambulance to St. Joe's in Joliet ON SUNDAY NIGHT!!! This was Tuesday.

We hopped in our respective cars on the way over there and Janelle called the hospital -- to find out that the old witch has bronchitis (again -- and if she'd move out of that damned mildew and mold-ridden crap hole she lives in, she wouldn't keep getting this -- oh, and maybe if she didn't spend her life hanging out at the casino, she wouldn't catch this kind of bug -- I mean, people down there don't wash their hands, don't cover their mouths, don't blow their noses... they are all walking germ farms). Janelle was told that my grandmother couldn't get any calls and couldn't get any visitors. Sorry, but that's just all kinds of bullshit.

Janelle was pissed so she went on back to her shop. I finally had to use valet parking. I got up to my grandmother's room (where she was on the phone with Doug after I had told him what was up while on my way to the hospital), and shortly thereafter, it came out that Nana didn't want us to know she was in the hospital. When I got there, she was lying in a puddle of coffee and refusing to let the nurse change the bedding. In the meantime, her guest chair was tiled with four squares of lying carefully flat pieces of toilet tissue that I can only guess were each stained with some bodily excrement (and Nana wanted only to point it out to anyone who came in from me, to nurses, to the girl with the lunch tray, that she was saving these samples for the doctor). I was pretty grossed out, personally.

I had to hold my tongue instead of telling her exactly what I thought -- that this was a bullshit game on her part -- a manipulative ploy. See, if we never had found out that she was in the hospital, it would have been "and they never even bothered to find out where I was." If we did find out, she could pit the doctor (Dr. Mother-fucking-Stapleton-whose-license-should-
be-pulled) against us. And she got this option in full glory -- Dr. Stapleton had Nana's "friend" Lois (who has bugged Nana for some 20 years) call us and tell us 1) that Nana had blocked all incoming calls to her hospital room (duh -- I did that for her with the nurse while I was there); 2) that Nana was doind just fine; and 3) that we are not allowed to call the doctor and that it was none of our business.

I'm not sure who I "hate" more -- the doctor or my grandmother. If my grandmother thinks that she is going to "win" this little battle, she's dead wrong. After a long-winded argument between my grandmother and Janelle (just before I blocked the calls), Janelle has made it absolutely clear that she wants nothing else to do with my grandmother. Cat is so angry that she says she's never going down there again (and Cat and I both agree that during the 1/2 hour we didn't really know what was going on -- we both hoped that she was dead because it would just be easier -- and we both were more concerned with our classes -- and in my case, the comps -- than we were with whether or not Nana was dead). Joe never did give a shit and Michael doesn't pay any attention (besides, he was at Dr. Stefoski's office getting the news that he doesn't have MS -- yet -- and maybe never will). I'm stomping pissed (and am contemplating writing her a letter -- and typing it in increased size font so she can read it -- but I probably won't bother). This leaves Doug -- my mother told him absolutely yesterday that she no longer wants to hold the power of attorney or the will executorship. She wants to give it to Doug.

My mother has, over the last few weeks, had long conversations with some of my grandmother's sisters: Cecilia, Eleanor, Julia, and Betty are all still alive and well. My mother has absolutely spilled this whole story to Eleanor, specifically. Enough is enough and the selfish, manipulative, miserable old woman is just not going to be able to control her family with her damned money any more. We don't want it. She can piss it away at the riveboat; she can give it all to those "great" kids in Vancouver (because they've taken such good care of her); she can flush it down her damned toilet (except that she has a crappy sewer system that can't even handle toilet paper -- and that Doug has to "fix" once a month). Come to think of it, I like the toilet idea the best because Doug just about deserves that.

Doug did call to apoloize for saying "good" about what Nana has done, but Mom is pretty fucking pissed at him.

I am still hopping mad. I think we all would have been happier if she had first, given all her money to the assheads in Canada, and second, died quietly leaving us nothing. I'M GOING TO HELL, BUT I AM NOT SORRY FOR RESENTING THE PUPPET SHOW THAT SHE HAS BEEN PUTTING US ALL THROUGH FOR ALL OF THESE YEARS. My mother had a rotten childhood and has never wanted anything but her own mother's love. She wants so badly to take care of her and just treat her well -- my grandmother worked so hard for so long! Of course, this meant that with all her "frugal" behavior and work ethic, my mother never really had a mother of her own. How did my mother become a good mom?? And who I think was the best mother anyone could have ever had (in spite of the fights and arguments, I still love her for everything she sacrificed for all of us). But my grandmother doesn't know how to just be loved and let people "in". She has effectively pushed all of us away and I don't know if anyone is going to rebound from this.

Catharsis

2006-02-25T20:17:00.000-03:00

"Look. The supermodel's a beautiful girl, Will. She can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack all morning. She can make you feel high for -- the greatest commodity known to man - promise; the promise of a better day; the promise of a greater hope the promise of a new tomorrow. This particular ore can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl -- in her smile, in her soul; in the way she makes every rotten thing about life seem OK. The supermodels, Willie? That's all they are -- bottled promise. Scenes from a new day; hope in stiletto heels."

Something about that one certain movie -- it doesn't matter the movie. I didn't want to watch it again, I knew it would hurt. That one movie, for anyone, is cathartic. Christopher Robin outgrew Pooh, Willie explained. I hate being Pooh.

That's it for today. I'll be fine -- it's just that I should be studying for comps. I'll be fine.

Let's See

2006-02-25T02:15:00.000-03:00

I may have jinxed myself. I bought a graduation dress.

In the meantime, I have finished Absalom, Absalom! (yes, the double punctuation, here, is intentional). When I finished it, all finally made sense. I started talking about it with Bob (my study partner) and everything kind of fell together for both of us. Of course, he hasn't read it yet ... (he read Nights first).

Thanks to Tom, I found THE correct passage in The Bible and II Samuel has helped. Figures that it takes my atheistic friend to know the Christian things I (the great Catholic that I am) should have known.

I am almost finished with Nights at the Circus. I am actually liking it so far. It's twisted and macabre and morbid and gothic and, frankly, endearing. It's funny without being silly and poignant without being sappy. It's erotic without being graphic and, actually, a pretty easy read. I really like it. Albina would also like it, I think. Just a suggestion ...

I am feeling better. A few days this week I actually felt like myself, again. I still have waves of dizziness sometimes, but they aren't as bad or disruptive to my life. Speaking of, I need to file my taxes and get them faxed to Biogen. They are going to cover my meds for two years. Hmmm. I am quite ambivalent on this issue. More on that when I have time to sort out my feelings.

Amber is spending the night again tonight. I would have finished Nights by now if she hadn't unexpectedly descended upon us. Whatever.

I may not have said this, yet, but here it is in writing. If I had money at all, I would help my parents. There. In writing. Enough said.

Hey. Without naming names (for those with whom I haven't already shared), a dear friend of mine with whom I fought for many years about the existence of God ... well, he has recently (within the last few months) "found" God. I am so happy! I am a crappy Christian and even worse as a Catholic, but my belief is "there." "My heart is full" (to quote a bad sitcom, the name of which I also will not share).

I now have hives, again ... I saw the doctor. He ran a battery of allergy tests -- not a damned thing. He was more than surprised. He says that everyone comes back allergic to something -- everyone but me. So we have both decided that the hives stem from stress. I need to destress soon. After March 4th!!!

Okay, back to Comps. I need to look quickly at Frankenstein again, memorize some names, places & dates, cover Everyman and the two poems, yet again ... and I have my exams a week from tomorrow. I can do this. I WILL pass -- with God's help.

I'm trying, honey! It's hard for a control freak to give her life over to God. But I am trying.

More on Comps

2006-02-13T19:28:00.000-03:00

I saw Dr. Giles today to see if he could help me with Absalom, Absalom! He gave me some good suggestions. He said I probably DON'T need any criticism. I'm not sure which way to go, now. I think I am just going to keep doing what I'm doing. I think if I have criticism, it would only help. It really can't hurt.

Lia got to play with someone who is really her own size, today. Joe's buddy, Trevor, brought over his lab. She is only about a month younger than Lia. They played really good. I think Lia is the perfect size, though Trevor's dog is quite a bit smaller -- thinner, primarily. I am looking forward to seeing the vet, soon. I don't anticipate any big issues about her weight, but perhaps I'm wrong.

I'm feeling a little better, today. The dizziness seems primarily connected to Uthoff's (the same issue as my eye). Once I cool off, I feel better. I can drive with pretty much no problems. I can read--though with, apparently, poor comprehension.

I JUST DON'T GET ABSALOM, ABSALOM! Thank God for Spark Notes. I struggle through each chapter and then figure out what in the bloody-hell happened by reviewing the Spark Notes on the chapter. While I was at it, I bought the Frankenstein and Beloved Spark Notes and found an online-lesson plan for Everyman. It's not cheating if you actually read the stuff. I don't know how to get this across to my students. I'm totally okay with Spark Notes (though they don't need it this semester) as long as they are used as they are intended -- STUDY GUIDES (unlike the way that I used them while I was at AU -- how did I ever graduate Summa Cum Laude??).

Gotta Love Disney

2006-02-09T13:27:00.000-03:00

You scored as Donald Duck. Your alter ego is Donald Duck!Try as you might,you have a nasty temper that is hard to control. But you try hard to please, and you aren't one to go down without a fight.

Donald Duck
81%
Cinderella
75%
Peter Pan
63%
The Beast
63%
Ariel
56%
Sleeping Beauty
50%
Cruella De Ville
50%
Goofy
50%
Snow White
38%
Pinocchio
19%

Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego?
created with QuizFarm.com

Been A While

2006-02-04T01:34:00.000-03:00

Short and ... well ... uninteresting?

I learned something new about MS this week. I've felt like crap for the last week. I've been really dizzy. My massage therapist noticed that my sinuses were really stuffed when I saw her last Friday. Funny, I didn't notice. By Monday, I felt like I was at death's door. I saw my regular doctor (Dr. Katula is just awesome, I must say). He said I had a sinus infection and that's where the dizziness came from. Well, after 4 days of antibiotics, I was feeling worse, not better. I called my neurologist -- turns out that my explanation "dizzy in my left eye" made a whole lot of sense to him. I'm sure he's heard it all by now, of course, but I still felt stupid. After talking to him, I feel better (emotionally, anyway). He explained that any infection will exacerbate previous MS symptoms. Thus, the "dizzy" in my bad eye.

Anyway, I haven't really been able to read well because of the dizziness, but I did manage to finally finish Beloved. I found a great piece of literary criticism entitled, "Why I Hate Beloved." My thoughts exactly. I realize that my mother is very right about saying that her mind is precious. What she chooses to put in her mind is very carefully screened. For the rest of my mother-fucking life I am going to have these horrible images in my mind.

Toni Morrison is a great writer because she did what I admire most about an author -- she drew me a very clear picture. I am a visual person -- the images I have in my mind from that book will haunt my life. I have previously chosen not to read this book -- I would never have opted to pick it up. But thanks to the powers-that-be at NIU, I had to read it. Fuck them!

I am behind, of course, in my preparations for comps. Tomorrow, I start Absalom! Absalom!

Justification

2006-01-12T00:37:00.000-03:00

"We can take with us from this world nothing that we have received, only what we have given."

Sorry. I saw this in my research for my comps (about the play Everyman). I liked it, so here it is.

Just Making a Quick Note

2006-01-03T20:08:00.000-03:00

I was told to thoroughly study my texts for the comp exams. The hint I got from a friend was to make as many connections between the texts as possible. Before I have even started looking at these, I have at least one connection -- The Wanderer/The Seafarer and Frankenstein both feature outcasts -- the effect of removing the character from society -- the characters experiences in exile. I just wanted to remind myself of this (also think bildungsroman).

Achoo, Achoo

2006-01-03T17:09:00.000-03:00

Sorry. That's what I always think when I see the title, Absalom, Absalom! I want to say, "Bless you!"

Why, you ask, would I have stumbled on that Faulkner title? Well, the reading list has arrived! They released the comp lists today, actually. I'm really excited about it. First, because of the make up of the list, I am betting Dr. Giles is one of the graders for the exam. Second, the make up of the list seriously favors someone who was stuck in Aurora University's British Lit courses and who has stumbled forwards through a variety of period-type courses throughout her career in literature studies -- yep, that's right -- IT'S ME! Something finally worked out in my favor.

"The Wanderer" and "The Seafarer" (two old English poems that I have studied at least twice in classes); Everyman (a medieval morality play -- I've come across a lot of these, though not this specific one); Frankenstein (can I just say here, YEEEEAAAAAHHHH! I KNOW THIS ONE REALLY WELL); Nights at the Circus (now, I have never heard of this before, but it looks like a late Victorian novel moving into Virginia Woolf-type feminist themes?); William Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom! (I love Faulkner and I know a lot about him); and Toni Morrison's Beloved.

I know that Dr. Giles almost used Beloved instead of Sula in our African-American Lit class last term. He must have known it was going to be on the list -- he must be one of the graders! And I would be Dr. Gomez-Vega or Dr. Bill Johnson would be the others. All of these are just awesomely easy graders -- or I'm a great writer who just happens to write stuff that they like really consistently. I'll take either, really, because I have "turned over a new leaf" as an English major -- I don't care if I get "A's", I don't care if I am the top of my class. I don't want to get into the next greatest school. I am just wanting to graduate and be done with all of this nonsense -- and nonsense it all is.

One of my favorite Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes is on right now (Deanna Troi is having a baby). I am going to have a cigarette and then watch it.

Another Christmas With Nana

2005-12-27T23:08:00.000-03:00

I have mentioned this before, but just in case you have forgotten -- my Grandmother is nuts. Certifuckingfiable (note creative use of infixable word, here).

Christmas is a chore. We'll just have "snacks," says Nana. She has always complained that we make "big" dinners on holidays. Okay, this is the United States of America, right? This is the country that believes in overindulgence on every holiday -- Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter, Valentines Day, the Fourth of July -- and the list can go on and on, I'm sure. Whatever the occasion, Americans want to overeat. I'm pretty sure that what my family, alone, eats on any given holiday could feed all of the inhabitants of a third world country for a month.

Nana complained that she doesn't want to "cook" all day on a holiday. We should just sit at the table and eat some snacks and we can "laugh, and laugh, and play cards, and munch." This has never, never happened in my family! We laugh, alright. We laugh at my grandmother. She hasn't "cooked" for any holiday in something like 20 years -- and I am not exaggerating. In fact, I'm not sure she cooks ever -- even for herself. She goes to the riverboat and eats in the VIP room for free or in the restaurants for free because she blows a major wad of cash down there every month.

I start, then, with the "snacks" that were supposed to make it so much "easier" for us this holiday. Keep in mind, that Christmas Eve dinner in my family traditionally consists of sliced roast beef, augratin potatoes, black cherry jello and rolls. This meal usually takes my mother an I, together, about 1 hour to prepare. Cat decided that she would orchestrate the "We'll just have some snacks" holiday plans. Each of the girls (Mom, me, Janelle, and Cat) were responsible for bringing four appetizers, one dessert and a "fancy" drink. Joe was responsible for chocolates and eggnog. Doug was providing a lot of liquor, a variety of crackers, paper plates, napkins, the house, and Michael -- well, Michael wasn't responsible for jack squat because Michael couldn't find his ass with two hands -- I'll get back to this later.

I will provide you with a list of the food that we served for 11 people (the immediate family -- God this family is so fucking big!):

Mom:

Large, chilled, peel-and-eat shrimp (with cocktail sauce)
Lil' Smokies (in the traditional sauce)
Cheese Ball
Asparagus Toast Points
Pumpkin Cake
Southern Comfort Slushies

Me:

Olive Garden's Spinach and Artichoke Dip (with homemade "toasties")
Smoked Salmon spread
"To Die For" Chees spread
Brocolli-Cheese Soup
Cracker Barrel's Double Chocolate Fudge Coca Cola cake
Martini & Rossi Asti Spumonti (not my choice -- I would have rather a nice bottle of wine)

Cat:

Cheese & Salsa Dip (with homemade tortilla chips)
Filo wrapped spinach puffs (she bought them)
Caramel Apple Pie (she bought this, too)
Eclairs (bought, again)

Janelle:

Clam spread (Steve made it)
Deviled eggs (Steve made this, too)
Smoked oysters (no one likes these at all -- she, of course, bought them and then made Steve open the can).
Ice Cream (bought -- though I never saw it).

Now, the way I figure it, Steve spent about 1 hour in the kitchen. Cat and Shane microwaved the cheese/salsa thing and Shane spent about 1 hour making the tortilla chips). Janelle, I think, filed her nails.

Joe -- well, Joe had some issues puttin his share of Christmas together this year -- he was busy. Would I, since I was going to Sam's in Batavia, anyway, go to Crate and Barrel up there to pick up a 6 quart Red Dutch oven for $99.00 for Shane (he pulled Shane in the gift exchange this year). Um, okay. Joe left me $140.00 and called later to ask me if I could get some egg nog and chocolate for "him" to bring to Christmas. Like I had a fargin' choice?

On Thursday, Mom and Dad and I went to Sam's. 2 hours and $300.00 later, we still didn't have the IPod boom boxes that Mom so desperately wanted for Mike and Cat. Let us keep in mind, now, that Mike's first IPod was stolen in the driveway about 3 years ago. Some time in the last 6 months, Mike's second IPod was stolen out of his apartment during one of his "let's make enough money to pay rent" parties. Michael doesn't have an IPod! Mom knows this, but Michael doesn't know that she knows. But I digress. The point is that the Batavia Sam's doesn't have 2 of the IPod boom boxes. So we had to drive to FUCKING ROLLING MEADOWS THE FUCKING BACK ASSED LONG WAY to buy these two things.

On the way, I ran into Crate and Barrel and bought the last red dutch oven on the shelf. It was marked at $59.00 on sale from its original $99.00 price.

While we were in Sam's in FUCKING ROLLING MEADOWS, I picked up the chocolates I had forgotten to buy at the last Sam's in FUCKING BATAVIA. I, for the record, had finished all of my Christmas shopping last Monday.

On the way home from FUCKING ROLLING MEADOWS, my mother looks at the dutch oven -- Goddammit, Kristen! This is a 3 quart -- we wanted the 6 quart! I wouldn't really know the difference even if they had stocked both -- but they didn't. We spent the long drive home from FUCKING ROLLING MEADOWS calling Carson's, Marshall Fields, JC Penny, Bloomingdales, etc. No one had a 6 quart Dutch Oven for anything less than $190.00. Mom ordered from the catalog when we got home -- Shane got a card with a picture taped inside of it. The dutch oven should arrive here tomorrow or Thursday.

Again, I digress. Friday arrived -- Mom and I started to cook, and cook, and cook, and cook. Between Friday and Saturday, Mom and I each spent something like 6 to 8 hours cooking. That's conservatively 12 "man" hours of cooking. This does not include 3 trips with my car full of various necessary pieces for storing, cooking, serving, etc. these "snacks." By about hour 3, my mother and I were completely bonkers and kept repeating: "We'll just have some snacks!" I believe my mother and I both wished horrible things would happen to my grandmother MULTIPLE times. At one point, I wanted to lay down and just wait for the wolves to come.

Oh God. It just dawned on me that I am really only through Saturday morning. I haven't even gotten to my grandmother's usual antics. I'll skip through the rest of the preparation and serving of the "snacks." I'll leave us with this -- It would have taken us about 1 hour to make our usual dinner and another 10 minutes to put it out for the hungry hoardes.

Okay, the gifting. We go around in a circle, each of us opening one gift, ooohing and aaahing appropriately, and throwing away the wrapping paper. NEXT! We have been doing it like this for many, many years. My mother sometimes gives the same type of gift to two people. This year, as I've explained in some detail before, it was the IPod Boom Box to Cat and Mike. They, then, must open these simultaneously so as not to spoil it for one or the other. Off came the wrapping and Cat squeeled: Yeah! Michael looked forlorn and then explained to my mother, "Oh, Mom! This is so sad. I'm sorry. My type of IPod won't work with this!" Cat became immediately worried. Michael explained that her "newer" model would work but that his was a special [INSERT A BUNCH OF UNINTELLIGIBLE TECHNOBABBLE HERE]. Michael comes by his acting ability quite naturally -- my mother played it so cool -- "Oh, Michael. Well, I'll just have to get you something else. I'm sorry." "It's okay, Mom." I just about wet myself. I had to leave the room.

By the time I came back, all the gifts were opened and it was time for, drum roll, please ... the Nana gift presentation. My grandmother hasn't spent one slim dime on gifts for years, now. She needs that money for the riverboat! So instead, much like the crazy aunt in Christmas Vacation, my grandmother just collects things from around her house. She never wraps anything because it would be such a waste of all that lovely paper she has kept for so long. That paper could be worth something! It's antique! (It's okay, you can look appalled; you can feel sorry for me at any time; you can send money, cash--large bills).

In a wicker basket that goes everywhere my grandmother goes, she has packed up all the gifts for this year. Just to refresh your memory, past gifts have included a 30 year old baby head sucker, a bag of hair, and a beautifully hand-carved table for Janelle and Steve for which they had to write a check to my grandmother for the "balance" of what she would have spent normally for Christmas -- by my count, they had to pay for the entire cost of the table.

This year's booty included a "Bandit" mini slot machine in which Doug's friends are to insert quarters that will never be returned even if they hit the jackpot. She also passed around a bag of plastic key chains with the "Price is Right" promotional logo from the riverboat. My mother took this bag that my grandmother handed to her and hid it in the cushions of the couch until she was able to surreptitiously hand it to me to throw away in the garbage at my feet. A few minutes later into the ordeal, my grandmother had misplaced one of her precious, "antique," "very valuable," bottles -- a cobalt blue one for Janelle (who hates them, but keeps getting more every year). My grandmother panicked and began to dig in the garbage where she found -- the keychains. They went around again after my mother yelled at me for not passing them. Thanks, Mom! When the bag got to Steve, he very casually placed them in the box that was going back to Nana's house.

Aside from "vintage" (translate: old and dirty) slips (yes, Jeff, that's like underwear) that Cat got, I don't really remember much else. I guess Janelle took all of her stuff (suffice it to say it was a bunch of garbage) and "decorated" Doug's very expensive and chic Master bathroom with it. I got out of it all with only an original and never used copy of Trivial Pursuit. BONUS!

My grandmother tried to get Doug to kneel down on the floor to get one of his presents. He complained on his way down about his "old" knees. My grandmother admonished him for these complaints and told us all that she could get up without even using her hands. She made it up alright -- and almost fell over in the process -- Doug and his old knees had to jump up to catch her.

Shortly thereafter, Nana was munching on a bowl of food that was sitting on the counter by the coffee pot -- the same bowl that I repeatedly moved onto the floor for Amber (Doug's new dog). I kept telling people that someone was going to eat it and not to put it next to the nuts! Janelle quickly reassured my grandmother (after Doug stopped her from continuing to eat the dog food) that the food was "human grade" and wouldn't hurt her. Um, okay?

Everyone filed back into the living room after this for a champagne toast to Michael's graduation from college last week. Mom passed him his graduation present -- IPod #3. He was properly sheepish, but all is well that ends well. Mom told him he couldn't ever get away with lying to her and that he should just quit trying.

As my Christmas present from Nana, I have to spend the day on Friday with my grandmother getting crappy-assed, miniscule and luke warm crab legs at the mother-fucking riverboat. That's my Christmas present from my grandmother -- dinner at the buffet and sitting in the VIP room where I can smoke and read my book while Nana gambles away more of my inheritance. She is never going to die, anyway, so I am not holding my breath for my little, tiny, piece of that pie.

Oh, here is a brief list of everything else I got -- not that it matters, but, for posterity: a really pretty lavendar blouse with those nice cuffs, a black turtleneck sweater, slippers, my new coat, a bag of macadamia nuts -- a really big bag, a $50.00 gift card to Victoria Secret, the next two novels in the Thursday Next series (by Jasper Fforde), a dog training book, that book about "the world's worst dog," and some other stuff I can't remember.

Sunday morning, my father went out to get the paper and found in the door a gift for me beautifully sealed with duct tape -- nice touch, Jay. It impressed my father! Thanks for the cross! It is beautiful.

Merry Christmas -- Holy Shit!

Finally! A Break!

2005-12-17T21:22:00.000-03:00

I finished my last paper and turned it in on Friday. Hey -- it was only 2 weeks late!

I did get my grades from my other classes, though. I got an A in Short Story -- considering my entire grade was based on my final paper, Dr. Giles must have liked it (or me) an awful lot. I was rather pleased with it, actually. I didn't really think, though, that it was "A" material.

To be fair, I always feel that way about my papers and I am pleasantly surprised when I get a higher grade than I anticipated. See, I recycled that paper. The original was one I wrote for Dr. Hipp oh so many years ago. Dr. Hipp gave me a B on that damned thing. I cried about it for most of the Christmas break that year (give or take 6 weeks long). After I went back and talked to Dr. Hipp about the paper and my final grade -- he changed my grade to an A.

I always felt like I bullied him into changing my grade. I still feel that way, sometimes, but some minor adjustments (and an addition of some 10 pages) got me an A on it in a grad class. Yes, I cleaned up a lot of the writing. Yes, I activated a lot of inactive verbs. Yes, I added in another writer (I was looking at local color writers). But, it was still, basically, the same argument and premise.

I got a B in Textual Studies. That sucked, but I got what I earned. I expected it and wasn't surprised.

I really don't know what I will get in Bloomsbury. I feel like I nailed my paper; however, my instructor never feels the same way about my papers as I do. She likes what I don't like and vice versa. My paper was on To The Lighthouse -- anti-imperialism and feminism. I suggested that Virginia Woolf designed the text as a dual-purpose allegorical representation contesting oppression in two of its forms that (to her, anway) were omnipresent in British society. In plain English -- she double-dipped.

Interesting note, today I judged another fargin' speech meet. This time, I got to judge the "impromptu" round. The students get a topic and as much time as they need to prepare (most of them take only 2 or 3 minutes). They then present an original speech (5-8 minutes long) on that topic. The topic for the round I judged was "gift."

So one of the girls talked about it being better to give than to receive. She cited To The Lighthouse. Big mistake, poor girl. I know the text, unfortunately, (for both me and this poor girl) inside and out. There is no scene even remotely similar to the one she referenced in support of her argument. I felt rather bad for her, actually.

Well, we're waiting for delivery of Giordano's. Mom and Dad have never tried it. I'm a pretty huge fan, actually. The last time I had it, come to think of it, was before the break up of Five Year Jacket. In fact, it was the evening of the last show that Kevin played with that band. Tonya and I went to that show. We were really early so we stopped at the Giordano's in Plainfield. Now, we have one here in Oswego. Of course, we still don't have a Borders ...

I started reading Mary Barton, today. Or is it Elizabeth Gaskell. Fuck. One of them is the name of the text and the other is the name of the author. Victorian Prose, again. I have it from a moderately reliable source that it will appear on the comp exams. Okay, even better yet. That same source believes that Atlas Shrugged will be on the exams. I actually know that text. Again, unfortunately.

That was dani linn's fault. I was commuting to Chicago and read The Fountainhead for several weeks. I hated it.

I have to go. The shit has hit the fan. Mom came downstairs and the horribleness has begun.

I Should Be Writing My Last Paper

2005-12-07T17:22:00.000-03:00

I'd like to talk about the medical fields of oncology, neurology, and, while I'm at it, EENT (Ear, Eye Nose & Throat). What would happen if we cured cancer? The U.S. economy would crumble and descend into mass panic. Why? Because every oncologist in the country, every nurse dedicated to the care of cancer patients, every hospital orderly working in a cancer ward -- would be out a job.

And MS? Every neurologist and neurology nurse -- and then lets talk about the drug stores -- they would no longer need to carry walkers, canes, etc. Of course, there's always another disease.

Let's talk diabetes. How much would the economy suffer if we didn't need insulin? Or podiatrists? Or Opthamologists? Or blood monitors? Special shoes? Needles to inject insulin? What about all the oral medications?

And even the common cold. No more Theraflu, ColdEase, Robitussin, Nyquil (except for alcoholics). A reduction in the need for Kleenex (no matter the brand name). Vicks Vapo Rub? Cough drops? At this point, would we even need a drug store?

And people wonder why we haven't found a cure. We pour millions -- billions, I'm sure -- into the economy to "research" and "treat" the symptoms of these diseases. Of all of these, the only real cause seems to be cigarettes???? Can I just say -- bullshit! Yeah. Cigarettes suck. I hate the fact that I still smoke. But fuck -- what sucks even more is that there are so many sick people and there are so many people who would "suffer" if we found a cure for the sick people.

I hate this shit. Now I know why Jeff is such a cynic. I am starting to do more than simply sympathize with him. Now I see a plethora of conspiracy -- they are all conspiring, (I'm really not sure who "all" is, but work with me here, I'm on a major stress roll here) to make sure that America -- that the world -- stays sick.

In the words of Eric Cartman, "You bastards!"

There Must Be Something Wrong With the Water

2005-11-26T23:31:00.000-03:00

So, even though we are still hopeful today, it appears as if Michael has just been diagnosed with MS after a bout of dizziness and numbness. Dr. Bhatia (the same doctor who treated me) is really prone to talking in circles. Not that I'm a straight talker, but ...

We're all a little confused, now. I may be taking it even harder than Michael -- because I'm taking it personally. Michael wasn't alone when the doctor came in today -- he had me and my Dad there. He got a ride home from the hospital when he was discharged -- from family, that is. He gets to sit on Mom's bed and tell her all about it. Okay, I'm bitter. I admit it. It's not healthy, but ... motherfucker! I kind of don't feel like I got any real attention -- I felt like Mom and Dad thought I was faking it every time I had a little relapse -- right up until they found out about Michael which, coincidentally, was about the same time as I took a big fall (I was dizzy & weak-legged for a moment -- which happens a lot right now) right in front of my cousins.

Did I mention that I really don't like my cousins? Well, that's not quite true. I like Nancy-Sara and Michael. I like Cherylandra, her husband and their daughter. I kind-of like Eric, but there's just something I can't put my finger on that weirds me out. His wife is okay, too. But I really could do without ever seeing either Julia or James ever again. I ducked out of the festivities claiming a headache -- reality: yeah. My head hurt like a son-of-a-bitch from slamming it on Doug's fireplace when I fell. But ... I really just wanted to be at home with my dog -- alone and in quietude.

And I should have been writing my Shakespeare paper that is due on Monday. That, however, is the big procrastination project of this term. I'll get it done. And here it is in writing: I am not going for a PhD. I'm tired. I want a job. I'm sick of homework. I'm sick of writing papers. I'm sick of preparing for classes only to be bored to tears for 2 1/2 hours. Okay ... I'm sick, sick, sick of being a student. I'm ready to move the fuck on. And, here's the big one, I don't care if I get straight "B's" this term. (I probably will get one or two, but I really don't care).

I'm not really in a very good mood. I'm going to take my dog out and smoke for a few minutes and then get back to work on my paper. I have the intro and conclusion done with a vague outline for the body stuff. I've written my works cited (which I will make into a "works consulted" with the stuff I don't actually use). I've reviewed the research. I've color coded and sorted. Now, I just have to write the motherfucker.

Venting

2005-11-14T18:37:00.000-03:00

I really don't understand bitter people. I always thought that I was bitter -- cold -- resentful. I find out every term, during "articulation" sessions, that I am a big softie. If you hate students, you shouldn't teach. If you hate helping people learn to write, you shoudn't teach writing. If you hate people in general -- just do us all a favor and remove yourself from the gene pool.

I shall explain: The First Year Comp program at NIU has required sessions each semester where all instructors can gather in groups to evaluate sample student writing. This "calibrates" the grades that various teachers are giving to their students. Or ... this process is supposed to calibrate the grading process. There was one girl in my group, a new TA, who is just plain bitter. I know this from her attitude in some of the courses I have had with her. For instance, Victorian Lit this past summer and Bloomsbury this term. She is not pleasant. I suppose it could be personal, but I really just don't think so. She was absolutely wicked and unrelenting in her grading style.

I suppose I take her grading personally -- and some of the organizers of this session should have been more thorough -- THREE OF THE FIVE PORTFOLIOS THAT WERE OFFICIALLY EVALUATED BY ALL OF THE INSTRUCTORS WERE FROM MY STUDENTS! This is a true compliment. Each was chosen as an example of "good" portfolios. Considering that these were randomly selected (2 from each section -- a total of 6 of my students' portfolios), I am very proud. I guess I did get somewhat lucky because I had great students. But it had to be more than luck -- any of my students could have been selected (except 1 from the fall term -- he failed the course) and the portfolios would have been very good. Am I a good teacher? Sometimes. Am I a good person? Sometimes. Am I tolerant of students and do I maintain fair expectations? Almost always.

"B" (as I will call her) is not a pleasant person, as I have stated before. I am ranting, I know. But I'm stomping pissed. No one knew that these were my students, but ... How can you teach English on the college level without some understanding of what students will know when they come to you? What a fucking bitch! I am not happy ... I know I am hiding it well, but bear with me.

Okay. I am breathing, now. I will get over it eventually.

Stupid Test

2005-11-13T18:52:00.000-03:00

A former classmate of mine, Kim, constantly sends me pictures of her kids as well as forwards linking to the latest stupid internet jokes and classifying "tests." I am, apparently, 49% Yankee.

Binary Thinkers

2005-11-13T11:53:00.000-03:00

I've been bugged by a discussion we had in my Virginia Woolf class. We discussed the idea tha humans are binary thinkers. Woolf's Orlando assumes this -- actually counts on this.

What would this do to us if we really believed this? There would be no gray, no pink, no in-between at all. Is the world really good or bad -- black or white -- sick or well? I don't think so.

I've been having an MS episode. I generally feel pretty good, but there are times when my right leg gives out and I have nauseating dizzy spells. But the spells are brief. So am I sick? Or am I well? Whatever. The fact is that for a few moments each day, I don't feel well. But nobody always feels well. I'm getting old and I have to deal with it.

I don't think anyone is all good or all bad. No one can be completely anything -- except Paris Hilton -- she's completely stupid. Oh, and Orlando Bloom -- he's completely hot. Oh, and my grandmother -- she's completely whacked.

I'm completely behind in school. I have to finish one of my three 15-pagers today. I need to get that one out of the way before I can start my Virginia Woolf paper. I have to have that one done by next weekend -- "Anti-imperialism in To the Lighthouse." Maybe Chris will help me get a catchy title for this. He's really good at that.

The cousins are coming next Sunday. They are all staying at Doug's. Serves him right. He builds a house with 4 bedrooms and 2 1/2 bathrooms, a gorgeous kitchen, a beautiful family room, living room, dining room, office, etc. Then, he lives there all by himself. He deserves the descent of the cousins upon his life -- all fucking 9 of them. Eric, his wife Anne-Marie, Julia, Lynn, her husband Harim, their daughter Ciela, James, Nancy Sara, Michael. Doug had to actually buy furniture. Hah! And he is going to have to buy cooking utensils -- and is going to have to cook. Again, Hah!

Ophelia is playing outside with Uncle Joe. She really loves the wind. She prances all over the back yard and chases the leaves. She has learned how to really play ball. She brings it back and drops it for us. Yeah! "Stick" doesn't work as well. She plays, "Let's growl at Momma and play keep away." I don't like this game so much. Damn Tally for teaching her this crappy-assed game.

Great. Joe came in and left her outside -- this warrants excessive yipping. Of course, the dog across the street, Bud, comes to see what is going on. Bud warrants excessive "big girl" barks. So we have, "Yip, yip, Woof, woof." And this goes on until I bring her in. She is so attached to people. She runs outside to pottie and then had to come back right away.

Michael is not well. He, too, has been having dizzy spells and leg weakness. It started a few days ago. The doctor told him it was just a virus. Mom, in her usual exaggeration of the medical situation, thinks that he has blown a blood vessel in his head. [Recall: Michael had a wart on his ear -- that was cancer, according to Mom. I had blurry vision -- that was a detached retina (of course, it was MS, which is bad, too, but ...). Cat had food poisoning -- that was a ruptured appendix -- wait, this isn't working -- Cat did have a ruptured appendix]. I'm worried about Michael.

Okay. I have to go. I have to finish a two-page paper on A Room of One's Own. Okay, okay. I have to start the paper. But it does have to be done today. So does my "Women in Local Color" paper.

Thank You for Being a Friend

2005-11-11T22:40:00.000-03:00

I have been terribly busy of late. Actually, I've been terribly busy avoiding my duties as a student. Lia has been wonderful for the last few days -- the perfect dog. She snuggles; she plays; she listens when I tell her to "sit" and "stay." I'm not holding my breath. Sooner or later she'll piss me off again. But, in the meantime, she has been fun to hang out with. So, instead of doing my work ... I'm hanging out with my dog.

Tomorrow, though, I have to do a paper -- at least 1 of the 4 remaining papers. This one is due by Tuesday, dammit. It's on A Room of One's Own. I'm starting to really tire of Virginia Woolf and her melodramatic bullshit.

Then, on Sunday. I need to draft out my Local Color paper. I will probably have to go up to the library -- which is okay because then, maybe, I'll get a chance to stop by Robyn's apartment to drop off some of the stuff I saved for her out of my garage sale. I've got stuff for Albina, too, but I haven't made it to get that stuff to her. She called today to "cancel" our appointment for today -- that I had frankly forgotten about. Whoops. I am really getting scatterbrained of late. Okay, okay. I've always been scatterbrained, but that wasn't really a surprise to any (all three) of my regular readers.

I found a place on line to order my tea -- $32.00 a pound plus shipping. I'm not entirely sure I want or need a pound of a tea I save for guests considering that I get guests all of maybe once a month. My, how things have changed. I remember spending almost every evening in my apartment in Sugar Grove entertaining friends -- MIG, Albina & Stephanie, work friends from TGI Friday's, etc. I miss that -- but I'm just not in a position to entertain at my parents' house.

Speaking of that, my parents will be putting the house up on the market in the Spring. Joe is supposedly buying them a house where they can move while they get this one in order. Hmmm. Right. I will believe all of this when I see it. I am a bit irritated because if this all works out on schedule, we'll be moving in the middle of my Comps. Can I just say that this timing would really suck?

I had conferences with my students this week. I'm more than irritated because I have at least 10 students failing my class. One of these is a band girl who has missed something like 4 nights of the one night per week class for "band" stuff. She hasn't turned in any of her work. Every time I get a chance to speak with her about these problems she tells me that she has "computer problems." Bullshit. Plain and simple. Bullshit. There are something like 30 open computer labs on campus, each with anywhere from 30 to 100 computers available for student use. Several of these labs are open 24/7. I am so freaking irritated. She needs to pull her shit together and get it done. I am probably the easiest teacher on campus and I go above and beyond to help out. How anyone can fail my class is beyond me. Yet, students have managed to do just that every semester.

Dammit.

It's almost 11:00 and I'm tired. I spent all day glued to the Golden Girls marthon on Lifetime (that's right, John and Nadine -- I'm still watching Golden Girls -- and I'm not ashamed to admit it!) I've got to finally call it a night.

I Know I Never Posted This

2005-11-02T01:35:00.000-03:00

I am sorry to those of you to whom I've already cried about this -- we had to put Dutch to sleep on the Friday of my garage sale. That afternoon, I came home and found him still laying where Doug had left him Friday morning. I think I am most upset that the poor dog suffered all day without anyone there.

My mother was bawling and called me to get me to come home because she could hear Dutch crying. I saw him and immediately burst into tears. I took all of the rest of Lia's Tiny Tots (really good treats) and sat on the floor hand feeding him every last one of them until Doug came home. He and Dad took him. They said it was sweet and that Dutch even licked Doug's face to tell him that it was okay.

He was a great dog who never hurt anyone. We miss him -- a lot. In my idea of Heaven, everyone we loved during our lives will be there -- Dutch is one of those and I'm certain that he is waiting for us in his own heaven where every bush is the perfect height for "watering" and there are cookies for him around every corner.

Day 3 and "on the patch"

2005-10-31T16:03:00.000-03:00

My moods are bad enough without this added stress -- I gave up. I'm on the patch with supplemental "Tootsie Pops." I AM NOT GOING TO GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN. This is really it. I am going to quit smoking.

Finally got something on the New Bibliography from Lynn -- she is so awesome! She really wants me to go into library science. She says I have a knack for this. No one would know better than she would. Madison has a program -- as does UofI. Perhaps I can really pull this off. I need a break of at least a year, first. Then I'll try.

I also might get a second Masters in teaching or rhetoric. It makes sense to do this stuff while I am teaching full time. Waubonsee is hiring -- I think I said this before, but ... -- a full-time developmental English teacher. I would be great at this. I am certain I am qualified, but I must convince THEM that I am. I will. I can feel it. I will apply as soon as I get a few minutes to myself to put my resume back in order and get my transcripts from Aurora University and NIU. I am sure I really don't need my WCC transcript -- but, I suppose it wouldn't hurt.

Gotta go. Freaking out over my "New Bibliography" presentation. And I haven't even started my paper that is due tomorrow.

Brief Update

2005-10-30T18:25:00.000-03:00

Or not brief ... I'm never brief, but I'm going to try.

I'm trying to quit smoking ... again ... I've been very moody as a result. I've smoked the equivalent of about 2 cigarettes today -- butts from the ashtray on the back porch. They taste like shit, but ... what people do when they try to quit! I really just want to make it one week -- I know if I make it a week, I'll feel better.

School is going well, but then again, I'm not really doing any of my work. I blew three days so far doing absolutely nothing but playing stupid games on Yahoo and watching movies on my new television. I got a nice flat screen from Sam's and a DVD/VCR combo. It's the first time I've ever had my own DVD player. Now, maybe, I can watch the movies that have been sitting here for a few weeks.

I previewed Brighton Beach Memoirs for my students. They are watching the movie this week. I think I will probably send them home about 5:30 tomorrow and finish up the movie on Wednesday. We can go to lab after that. The Wednesday night class can finish in the time allotted. I don't think I'm really going to have them do much in lab this week. I will probably schedule an "extra help" time for this Friday, though. The e-portfolio rather demands that I give them that extra attention. Also, it will give me an excuse to get some work done at the library on Friday.

Okay, that's all I have. Must write a 2 page paper for Tuesday night and read Orlando for then, too. I also have a presentation on the New Bibliographers (the early 19th century editors of Shakespeare) due on Monday (though Dr. Baker never gets to stuff on time).

Gotta get a move on.

Actually getting somewhere

2005-10-19T17:49:00.000-03:00

Indeed, I was able to sort out the stuff I wanted to keep from the stuff I either threw away or plan to sell. I got the "keep" stuff down to 4 totes of "good" stuff -- and the totes were large so I got everything (even some pretty big items) into the totes. The only stuff out of the totes is my luggage (like I am ever going anywhere again). On the upside, if I sell everything else, I am left with primarily things that I can move myself. My bed, my bookcases, my good reading chair and my Duncan Fife antique table are all that I would need a truck to move.

I have been pretty frantic lately dealing with some student problems as well as with my own work. I got a 90% on that first short Bloomsbury paper -- I wrote it on Virginia Woolf's "Kew Gardens" and the narrative perspective therein. She was impressed with my style and was only concerned that I didn't do so well about to practicing what I preach: "So What?"

I need some fucking time off. I cannot wait until this weekend. The garage sale is Friday and Saturday. I can sit on my ass writing papers and collecting money -- even if it is only a few bucks, it will be worth it.

I'm going to miss the stove. Everything else is garbage, really.

I am going to have 4 weeks off at Christmas, but that will be spent studying for my comps. They are a-comin'!

I still have a few papers to grade for my 6:00. I'm outtie.

Garage Sale

2005-10-14T14:07:00.000-03:00

I've got a lot of shit. No, not just the "normal" amounts -- a LOT. My grandmother used my apartment as a dumping ground for all of her garbage over some 10 years. I couldn't throw it out because whenever she came to visit, she asked me where *INSERT PIECE OF GARBAGE HERE* was.

She used to give me all of this stupid, ugly and dirty crap for my kitchen with a "barnyard" theme. I have a pig-shaped cutting board, cow salt n' pepper shakers, a chicken napkin holder, lamb potholders -- AND I NEVER WANTED ANY OF IT -- I HATE "COUNTRY" THEMES!

So I have gone through about half of my boxes that I recently moved from storage into Doug's garage. Mom and I threw out some things, but we are left with an awful lot of junk to sell. Glasses, baskets, tins, candle holders, knick-knacks, pots and pans, dishes -- just a whole lot of crap. It took us 3 hours this morning to go through half. I imagine I will spend at least another 3 hours just going through the stuff. I am packing the few things I am keeping -- personal "memory" type stuff and a few pieces of kitchen ware -- the good stuff that I got either as gifts or that I bought for myself. Anyway, I have 4 large tote boxes that this stuff is going into. The rest of it can burn for all I give a shit.

When I finally set up housekeeping for myself, again, I will hopefully have a real job with a real paycheck. I will, then, buy my own NEW stuff. No NANA garbage!

Sorry

2005-10-10T11:30:00.000-03:00

To both of my readers ... for a long hiatus.

I have been very busy with laying around, watching television and playing with the dog.

No, really. I am, as usual, behind on my school work. I am now busily "fixing" my Pope presentation for class tonight. I doubt that we will get to it, though. Dr. Baker is also running behind. That's okay. Another week of work ought to make it actually passable. Dr. Baker laid into me for using a source he considered disreputable. It's okay, really. I was only trying to beef up my sources -- all of my sources had said the same thing, actually. I merely changed the cite. Whatever.

In the meantime, I now know more about Alexander Pope than I ever wanted to know -- and I still haven't read anything by him -- nor do I plan to. In fact, this will hopefully be my last year of school -- ever. I am sick of writing papers. I am sick of researching. I am sick of being stressed from October through early December and then again from March through Early May EVERY YEAR -- for the past 32 years (if we go all the way back to kindergarden, that is).

I was sick for a few days last week to add insult to injury. I was incredibly lethargic and listless. I wasn't sleeping well because my RLS kicked in (restless leg syndrome -- always when I am under stress).

Of course, the dog situation isn't helping. When Lia was spayed, they sent me home with eardrops for her left ear. On the phone the day of her surgery, though, the doctor had told me "right" ear. I asked when they gave me the drops. I asked again when I got home. In fact, I believe I questioned them on the "left" ear prescription on the bottle at least 3 times. I struggled with her twice a day for 10 days to get drops into her left ear.

I had to take her back to the vet again last Thursday because she was having a suture reaction on her tummy and they wanted to check it out. I asked them to swab her ears again to make sure the infection in her left ear was gone. Indeed, the results came back that she had a bad infection in her right ear, not her left ear -- and now it was worse because it had gone untreated for so long. I WAS RAVING PISSED! But, I quietly paid the $80.00 for oral antibiotics and new, more powerful ear drops.

My mother and I had to take two of the cats out the next day. I took the first prescription bottle with me. I asked the nice lady at the desk if she would look at Lia's chart from the day of the surgery and tell me which ear was infected at that time -- the right ear. I QUIETLY said that I wasn't "happy." When Dr. Thornburg came in to see the cats, she immediately announced that they would be refunding me the $80.00 and that they were very sorry for the error. Painless, right? Except for the fact that I now have to put up with "ickies" from the antibiotics, struggling with Lia to get the drops in for 14 days more, and whatever happens to her poor ear from being infected so long. I AM REALLY PISSED!

Moving on. I have to get a move on. I have probably 2-3 hours of work to do on the Pope thing. I have an hour drive to school. I haven't showered, yet. I have to teach from 4:30 -- 5:45 (and be in class, prepared, by 6:00).

Dammit.

I suppose I could tell Dr. Baker that I'm sick (which wouldn't be a lie -- I'm still dragging). And that would automatically give me another week to work on this thing. We'll see.

Gotta go. 11:30, now. Want to be at school by 1:30 (so that I have 3 full hours on this presentation).

This'll be short

2005-10-04T15:37:00.000-03:00

Just a quick note to myself: Next time -- prepare better. It's not to smart to show up in front of Freshmen without enough work for them.