This morning we had a faculty meeting at 8:15 am. I also, having lost my grasp on good time management skills, had to stop at the library to pick up a book for an article that was due yesterday. So, I went to 7-11 to get some coffee and they were out - yes, you heard right, 7-11 was out of coffee. And instead of making more, the creepy Indian guy just stared at me as I held up the empty pot and raised my eyebrows at him.
As I got on the road again, I realized that I was driving toward a VERY dark grey cloud. The radio said that there was a 60% chance of showers with clouds clearing by midmorning and a sunny afternoon. Well, being from Seattle, I always have an umbrella, so I figured "eh, whatever." As I drove the two miles from stupid 7-11 to the library 30 minute parking, I the clouds came and blocked out what little sunlight was streaming through the clouds at 7:30am.
As I went in the library and got my book, the self-checkout wasn't working and gave me a message to see the attendant at the desk. He didn't speak English well and seemed annoyed that the self checkout wouldn't work. He finally grunted through checking out my books and then said, "Usually there are student workers at the circulation desk. It's too early. Usually we don't check out students at the help desk." Big whoop, dude. It's 7:30 and no one is around. And I'm not a student so check yoself!
Ok, so I come out and it's raining. Fine, I use my umbrella, and on the 100 meter walk from the library to the car it started sideways raining, my favorite kind of stupid, annoying rain. By the time I got to the other side of campus, it was raining even harder and the longer I waited the worse it got, so I finally just made a run for it. When I finally got in, my pants were literally dripping wet, my shoes were soupy, and I was cold for hours since my pants took forever to dry.
I have to say that being from the PNW I'm used to rain, but to clear up any confusion, Seattle rain is like a baby kitty drooling on your shoulders. Not enough to warrant an umbrella but too much not to at least cover your head. Sure it does that most of the winter, but these Texas morning thunderstorms are brutal. I don't like it. And of course, as soon as I got in, the clouds passed. Stupid sideways rain, I hate you.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Mammona
In Italian, the term mammone translates to mamma's boy. In fact, they even made a reality show this summer called Mammoni: Chi vuole sposare mio figlio? in which five or six mamma's boy (one of them a gay dancer I think . . . or was he a model?) meet (always accompanied by their mothers) a series of eligible bachelorettes. In the finale they were supposed to either propose or break up, but I never saw it, so I assume they're all still living at home.
I may do my own laundry and live alone (with my loving grey kitty) but I think I would qualify as a mammona seeing as the first person I can in any instance - from flat tires to ingrown toe nails - is my mother. Here are just a few things my mom is great at:
1. Talking me down. I'm not sure how many obscenities I was spewing this morning after some lady rear ended my two day old car (that's right, its' broken in now), but I'm sure glad my mom picked up her phone so only a few of them made it to the other driver.
2. She makes me pancakes and eggs benedict and knows how to make the eggs taste good without running all over the good part.
3. She still thinks she's not biased when it comes to her children - even though she very much is sometimes.
4. She sends me pictures of cats whenever I ask for them.
5. She's tried to learn Italian just because it's what I study. Yesterday she got a compliment from a win bar on her pronunciation. Go mom.
There are many more things, but the list would go on for too long if I did them all. So, I'll finish with: she makes me funfetti cupcakes for my birthday every year and doesn't even make fun of the fact that I'm 30 and still want mom-made cupcakes with sprinkles on the frosting.
I may do my own laundry and live alone (with my loving grey kitty) but I think I would qualify as a mammona seeing as the first person I can in any instance - from flat tires to ingrown toe nails - is my mother. Here are just a few things my mom is great at:
1. Talking me down. I'm not sure how many obscenities I was spewing this morning after some lady rear ended my two day old car (that's right, its' broken in now), but I'm sure glad my mom picked up her phone so only a few of them made it to the other driver.
2. She makes me pancakes and eggs benedict and knows how to make the eggs taste good without running all over the good part.
3. She still thinks she's not biased when it comes to her children - even though she very much is sometimes.
4. She sends me pictures of cats whenever I ask for them.
5. She's tried to learn Italian just because it's what I study. Yesterday she got a compliment from a win bar on her pronunciation. Go mom.
There are many more things, but the list would go on for too long if I did them all. So, I'll finish with: she makes me funfetti cupcakes for my birthday every year and doesn't even make fun of the fact that I'm 30 and still want mom-made cupcakes with sprinkles on the frosting.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Childhood memories
My mother will attest that when I was younger I used to remember EVERYTHING. She would always be amazed and tell me, "When you get older and you brain gets fuller, this won't happen as much." Well, of course she was right. I can't remember why I get up from my desk and walk into my bedroom to get......something. I can't remember why there's a sticky note on my wallet that says "purple," and I certainly can't remember half the things she claims to tell me. It's quite possible that she suffers from the same condition, but she's adamant that she tells me things and I just forget them.
Anyway, the other day I somehow started thinking about childhood friends and found my best friend from age I can't remember to about I can't remember on facebook. Sasha. I don't remember meeting Sasha and I don't really remember falling out of touch with Sasha, but I do remember being attached at the hip, ankle, and wrist to her. We were a pesky little duo (with a younger sidekick in her sister Hava) that wreaked havoc on poor Sasha's mom Gina and tried to "stay up all the way to midnight" every time we had sleepovers (which I think was just about every single night in the summer time). We never made it. I think our parents put us to bed at 7:30 because midnight was always a REALLY long time away.
Like I said, I can't remember a lot of specifics (I'm going to hope that it's because my brain is full of important information and it's been probably 23 years since our last sleepover) but here are the things I do remember about her:
1. Sasha taught me how to drink out a cup backwards to get rid of the hiccups. She could do it without spilling it down the front of her. I could not. She ALWAYS gave me the hiccups.
2. Sasha loved cream cheese. In the morning she'd take a half a bagel and spread about two inches thick of cream cheese on it.....I think this is the root of my hatred for those tiny little cream cheese tubs they give you at a bagel place. There's never enough.
3. Sasha turned the swing set in her backyard into a spaceship. She knew her way around that thing like the back of her hand. I was always walking out a window or into a wall. Now that I think back it was probably something similar to the Star Trek Enterprise. That girl had the best imagination you've ever seen.
4. When we laughed really hard she'd fall over. I, on the other hand, couldn't breath and would start to drool awkwardly down the front of my shirt. Add that to the water down the front of my shirt from aforementioned hiccups rememdy and I always looked like a mess around her. Thank goodness we were too young to judge.
5. Sasha loved pizza. We used to go to Pizza and Pipes a lot (or maybe only twice, I can't remember) but she didn't like the strings that form when you pull hot cheese pizza apart. And Hava was afraid of the giant characters (I think they might have been Disney characters, but again, it's all very fuzzy). It was always an adventure at Pizza and Pipes. It's since burned down, been rebuilt as a Ruby Tuesday, went out of business, and now probably has some squatters living inside.
6. Sasha, Hava, and I used to share a bed on our sleepovers. It was so fun. I don't even know how big that bed was or how big we were. All I know is that we used to try and stay up until midnight and then the next thing I knew, we'd wake up a mess of arms and legs and twisted nightshirts in the morning, looking forward to bagels and cream cheese. We probably looked like a litter of kittens when we slept.
Funny the things you remember about people. So glad we've finally reconnected on facebook.
Anyway, the other day I somehow started thinking about childhood friends and found my best friend from age I can't remember to about I can't remember on facebook. Sasha. I don't remember meeting Sasha and I don't really remember falling out of touch with Sasha, but I do remember being attached at the hip, ankle, and wrist to her. We were a pesky little duo (with a younger sidekick in her sister Hava) that wreaked havoc on poor Sasha's mom Gina and tried to "stay up all the way to midnight" every time we had sleepovers (which I think was just about every single night in the summer time). We never made it. I think our parents put us to bed at 7:30 because midnight was always a REALLY long time away.
Like I said, I can't remember a lot of specifics (I'm going to hope that it's because my brain is full of important information and it's been probably 23 years since our last sleepover) but here are the things I do remember about her:
1. Sasha taught me how to drink out a cup backwards to get rid of the hiccups. She could do it without spilling it down the front of her. I could not. She ALWAYS gave me the hiccups.
2. Sasha loved cream cheese. In the morning she'd take a half a bagel and spread about two inches thick of cream cheese on it.....I think this is the root of my hatred for those tiny little cream cheese tubs they give you at a bagel place. There's never enough.
3. Sasha turned the swing set in her backyard into a spaceship. She knew her way around that thing like the back of her hand. I was always walking out a window or into a wall. Now that I think back it was probably something similar to the Star Trek Enterprise. That girl had the best imagination you've ever seen.
4. When we laughed really hard she'd fall over. I, on the other hand, couldn't breath and would start to drool awkwardly down the front of my shirt. Add that to the water down the front of my shirt from aforementioned hiccups rememdy and I always looked like a mess around her. Thank goodness we were too young to judge.
5. Sasha loved pizza. We used to go to Pizza and Pipes a lot (or maybe only twice, I can't remember) but she didn't like the strings that form when you pull hot cheese pizza apart. And Hava was afraid of the giant characters (I think they might have been Disney characters, but again, it's all very fuzzy). It was always an adventure at Pizza and Pipes. It's since burned down, been rebuilt as a Ruby Tuesday, went out of business, and now probably has some squatters living inside.
6. Sasha, Hava, and I used to share a bed on our sleepovers. It was so fun. I don't even know how big that bed was or how big we were. All I know is that we used to try and stay up until midnight and then the next thing I knew, we'd wake up a mess of arms and legs and twisted nightshirts in the morning, looking forward to bagels and cream cheese. We probably looked like a litter of kittens when we slept.
Funny the things you remember about people. So glad we've finally reconnected on facebook.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Etiquette
I may not be Emily Post and I may not be a Real Housewife of NYC, but I do know a few things about office etiquette.
1. If you call a meeting for 3:30, do not start the meeting at 3:20 so that when I walk in at 3:28 I've already missed the beginning of the meeting.
2. If you walk by my office and see that I'm hard at work, with headphones in my ears, and you check the schedule conveniently posted on my door, seeing that I'm not currently holding office hours, please do not barge in, sit down, and start asking questions - the answer to which can all be found on your syllabus.
3. If you are a former student and you email me for guidance. If I don't back to you immediately there's no need to call me and ask the same questions. If the answer to your questions were easy I'd have answered you immediately. Chances are you asked unanswerable questions or you asked questions that are so broad there's no way for me to answer them succinctly.
4. Do not mistake my silence for misunderstanding. Chances are I'm trying to hold back a string of unpleasant language I want to spew at you.
5. While I may work all the time, I'm not in a constant state of office hours. I have a windowless cave of an office....therefore I leave my door open so I can avoid claustrophobia. That is not an invitation for you to come in and start a stream of thought conversation about last week's class. If you want to talk, make an appointment. Otherwise, move along.
1. If you call a meeting for 3:30, do not start the meeting at 3:20 so that when I walk in at 3:28 I've already missed the beginning of the meeting.
2. If you walk by my office and see that I'm hard at work, with headphones in my ears, and you check the schedule conveniently posted on my door, seeing that I'm not currently holding office hours, please do not barge in, sit down, and start asking questions - the answer to which can all be found on your syllabus.
3. If you are a former student and you email me for guidance. If I don't back to you immediately there's no need to call me and ask the same questions. If the answer to your questions were easy I'd have answered you immediately. Chances are you asked unanswerable questions or you asked questions that are so broad there's no way for me to answer them succinctly.
4. Do not mistake my silence for misunderstanding. Chances are I'm trying to hold back a string of unpleasant language I want to spew at you.
5. While I may work all the time, I'm not in a constant state of office hours. I have a windowless cave of an office....therefore I leave my door open so I can avoid claustrophobia. That is not an invitation for you to come in and start a stream of thought conversation about last week's class. If you want to talk, make an appointment. Otherwise, move along.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
On skinny jeans
I was really hoping that skinny jeans and leggings would be working their way out of Fall fashion this year, but alas, I'm left disappointed. It looks as if skinny jeans and leggings, paired with riding boots, oversized shirts, and bulky scarves are as prominent as ever in the Fall fashion forecasts. I must admit that I do own a pair of skinny jeans but I'm just not a fan of them. I don't think they look that great on the normal sized girl, I don't like them without boots over them, and I think reinforce this whole skinny is beautiful battle we've been fighting forever. Leggings are a whole other thing - I think leggings should be outlawed for anyone over age twelve, and to top it all off, there are way too many people who mistake tights for leggings and walk around in see through bottoms. Not cute. So I will continue to wear my normal pants and hope that they eventually come back into fashion. *Sigh*
Friday, September 14, 2012
My thoughts on Spanish
It's been three weeks of Spanish class and although I like it, there's definitely no chance that I picked the wrong language - Italian is just better (sorry Spanish speakers). However, there are some things I've discovered this week.
1. Spanish feels like a "lazy" language. It's not a bad thing of course, but it feels like a beach language. Now, you must keep in mind that this is coming from someone who spends months on end in Southern Italy and Sicily, but I feel like I should be reclined on a beach chair with a cocktail in my hand when I speak Spanish a la the Corona ads on TV.
2. Spanish is like Italian light. Yes the rules are the same, but there's less of everything (easier for most people harder for me). Why are there only four definite articles? Why don't you combine prepositions with definite articles? Why aren't there changes in prepositions when used with definite articles? Why are there only two forms of the partitive article? Weird.
3. Italian is all about learning the 1000 rules and the 100,000 exceptions to those rules to pronunciation. Spanish just throws an accent in and you never have to really memorize any rules.
4. If you don't pronounce a 'v' like a 'v' why do you have 'v'?! If it sounds like 'b', then just use the 'b'. Annoying.
5. Spanish sounds twangy to me. I don't like all those 'q's and 'n's with tildas. I feel like I have some weird midwestern accent.
6. My teacher is teaching Mexican Spanish. She often includes information on how one might use the grammar in Central and South America. Well....I want to get the hang of Spain Spanish.....but if we use the particulars to Spain we get marked wrong on our work. I don't like that.
So the moral of the story is that everyone should learn to speak Italian. It's just better all the way around - and that's coming from someone who's not biased at all.
1. Spanish feels like a "lazy" language. It's not a bad thing of course, but it feels like a beach language. Now, you must keep in mind that this is coming from someone who spends months on end in Southern Italy and Sicily, but I feel like I should be reclined on a beach chair with a cocktail in my hand when I speak Spanish a la the Corona ads on TV.
2. Spanish is like Italian light. Yes the rules are the same, but there's less of everything (easier for most people harder for me). Why are there only four definite articles? Why don't you combine prepositions with definite articles? Why aren't there changes in prepositions when used with definite articles? Why are there only two forms of the partitive article? Weird.
3. Italian is all about learning the 1000 rules and the 100,000 exceptions to those rules to pronunciation. Spanish just throws an accent in and you never have to really memorize any rules.
4. If you don't pronounce a 'v' like a 'v' why do you have 'v'?! If it sounds like 'b', then just use the 'b'. Annoying.
5. Spanish sounds twangy to me. I don't like all those 'q's and 'n's with tildas. I feel like I have some weird midwestern accent.
6. My teacher is teaching Mexican Spanish. She often includes information on how one might use the grammar in Central and South America. Well....I want to get the hang of Spain Spanish.....but if we use the particulars to Spain we get marked wrong on our work. I don't like that.
So the moral of the story is that everyone should learn to speak Italian. It's just better all the way around - and that's coming from someone who's not biased at all.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Lava Girl
This summer in Italy I had a fabulous TA with me. We made all sorts of wonderful discoveries together - like the terminal velocity of a baby, that Poppy homemade popcorn is heaven in a bowl, and that my affinity for languages stops just short of understanding Japanese. We also devised superhero personas for ourselves (actually Vincenzo did and I just supported him by feeding him pasta and asking to watch movies on his laptop), but I'm very happy with mine: LAVA GIRL!!!!!
I'm not really sure about the whole superhero thing - I've just recently started to get on the superhero bandwagon and to be honest I'm just sort of lukewarm about it (haha, pun intended) but here are my thoughts. Lava girl is a tall fire-haired superheroine who wears only the best clothing and very fashionable boots. I assume she wears red outfits and can ignite a fire by giving the death glare to anyone in her path. Therefore, should someone forget that class starts on the hour rather than fifteen minutes later, she can burn their desk before they get to it so they're forced to stand awkwardly in the corner and take notes while trying to balance their notebook on their hand. She can also affect the weather in her personal bubble so she never has to suffer through another winter or be frozen to death by the ridiculous Texas over-airconditioning - it's alway a lovely 81 degrees in a two foot bubble around her.
That's as far as I've gotten. I feel like she should probably have more superpowers, but like I said, I'm just learning about the superhero movement so her mythology and all that will have to wait until I can come up with something good. Any suggestions?
P.S. Anyone who wants to draw lava girl in a nice PG version and sell a comic book about her (giving me a cut, of course) is encouraged to contact me at your earliest convenience.
I'm not really sure about the whole superhero thing - I've just recently started to get on the superhero bandwagon and to be honest I'm just sort of lukewarm about it (haha, pun intended) but here are my thoughts. Lava girl is a tall fire-haired superheroine who wears only the best clothing and very fashionable boots. I assume she wears red outfits and can ignite a fire by giving the death glare to anyone in her path. Therefore, should someone forget that class starts on the hour rather than fifteen minutes later, she can burn their desk before they get to it so they're forced to stand awkwardly in the corner and take notes while trying to balance their notebook on their hand. She can also affect the weather in her personal bubble so she never has to suffer through another winter or be frozen to death by the ridiculous Texas over-airconditioning - it's alway a lovely 81 degrees in a two foot bubble around her.
That's as far as I've gotten. I feel like she should probably have more superpowers, but like I said, I'm just learning about the superhero movement so her mythology and all that will have to wait until I can come up with something good. Any suggestions?
P.S. Anyone who wants to draw lava girl in a nice PG version and sell a comic book about her (giving me a cut, of course) is encouraged to contact me at your earliest convenience.
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