Semester end trauma

Dear students,

We know that you're stressed because finals are upon us.  But consider the following:

• When you fail, it's quite possibly more traumatic for me than for you.  You probably knew it was coming, but I always assume you'll make some last push to study and do well on the final.  It never really works out that way . . . . and it's like pulling teeth every time I have to submit an F.
• I've been your instructor for 15 weeks.  Why are you waiting until today (the day after I've submitted your final grade) to ask me about an assignment from week 2?
• You have lecture four days a week with me and lab one day a week with another instructor.  Why would you think I am giving you a grade for the lab?  I don't teach it, I don't know if you go or not, I don't know what HW was required from you in there.  If you bothered to read the syllabus you'd see that your lab instructor is responsible for the lab instruction!
• Why wouldn't you show up for a final exam?  Especially if you're right on the cusp?!  At that point as long as you take the exam, you can still mostly likely pass.  Each time someone skips the final I end up holding the final grades.  I'm not sure what I think will happen . . . . and it's not even like I could give you a make up, but I still find it traumatic.  Just show up!  At least try!
• We submit grades online now.  I don't know if the turn around is immediate, but it's certainly only about 24 hours.  Knowing that I teach four or five classes perhaps you could not email me obsessively asking when grades will be out and what you got.  When I was in college we had to wait a month or two before grades were released online.  Be grateful that I don't lash out at you via email.

Life is stressful for all of us, just be glad I'm a fast grader and actually care about your success!  

Confessions from a TV junkie

I've been catching up on my TV thanks to Netflix and I'v recently been accused of "watching a lot of TV."  Well, duh!  I don't do silence, and it just so happens I tend to listen to TV rather than the radio while I work.  I'm currently five and half seasons into the nine seasons of the X Files (thanks Netflix for not have the films on streaming).  So far, here are my top 8 non-reality shows.

1.  The X Files
2.  Arrested Development
3.  Ugly Betty
4.  My So-Called Life - I will never understand how this show was canceled after only one season
5.  Lost - although I really lost steam about halfway through
6.  Veronica Mars - well, the first half then it got weird and sort of stopped on a cliff hanger
7.  Weeds - yet I'm 2 seasons behind because Netflix doesn't have all of it streaming
8.  Dexter - again, I'm a few seasons behind.  Thanks Netflix.

Next I'll be venturing back in time to catch up on the oldie but goodies.  Top on the list?

1.  Cheers (11 seasons!)
2.  Family Ties
3.  Wings
4.  Newsradio
5.  Quantum Leap
6.  3rd Rock from the Sun
7.  Murder, She Wrote (12 seasons!)
8.  Twin Peaks

On airplane etiquette

Well, it's the start of my favorite (read most hated) time of the year.  This week I went to Pittsburgh to visit close friends which was super fun . . . . except for the airplane part.  I had three legs to get there and back, each with its own little airplane etiquette lesson.

1.  When traveling, buy two seats if your body size warrants it.  I appreciate that air travel is expensive (I buy enough airline tickets each year to understand, believe me) but if your body mass requires two seats, please buy two seats.  Of course at Thanksgiving the airplane loads are always crazy busy, but having to sit next to someone who invades my space and that of the person on his other side is not the greatest way to start off the trip.  I was feeling awkward for this man, I'm sure he was feeling awkward as well . . . . and it was HOT.  It was hot to begin with and unfortunately he didn't have enough wiggle room to remove his coat or sweater.  I did, but he was sending off million degree sun spurs in all directions.  And right before we left the plane he said, "Are you going to visit family?"  "No, friends" I respond.  "Oh nice.  Tell 'em I said hello."  " . . . oh . . . ok."

2.  When traveling alone and you are nervous, repeat your mantra silently as 90 minutes of it can get old for those around you.  On the flight from Charlotte into Pittsburgh I was sitting next to a girl who was clearly afraid of flying.  She sat down, pulled out a doll, and then started repeating some mantra.  I don't actually know what she was saying, but she repeated it just loud enough for me to hear she was making noise but not loud enough for me to understand her ALL THE WAY TO PITTSBURGH.  She was so focused that when the flight attendant came and asked her if she wanted anything to drink she couldn't even look at her.  Instead she just stared straight ahead, eyes bulging, murmuring her little mantra.

3.  When traveling with a girl you're trying to impress, not everyone needs to hear how great you are.  Especially when the flight is 3 and a half hours and you have no inside voice.  Thank you for your service, but lecturing your date on how you allow her live freely is probably not making her want to go on vacation with you again.  I was happy to have a direct flight back to Dallas, but sad when I realized the idiot on the aisle seat needed to inform not only the girl he took skiing in Vermont but also me (who was trying desperately not to listen but to no avail) about how wonderful he is.  I'm sure you'll all agree that a veteran, super smart (just naturally smart, like he doesn't need to really work hard in school), tall (even taller than the rest of his family), good looking (he's just blessed to have good looking stubble), and engaging (he can talk to anyone - yes but the question is are they trying to figure out how to gouge their own eyes out?!) guy is a winner.  You'd never want to let that go . . . . but when we got off the plane I was this close to taking that poor girl's hand and just running with her to she could get away from his gravitational pull.

Ugh, dear government.  Please release the beam-me-up technology.  I hate flying.  On a positive note, Captain Williams made the smoothest landing I've ever experienced.  I only thought we were plummeting to our death once and that's about twenty-seven times less than normal.

Hobby Lobby is my Vegas

This year I decided to make my own Christmas gifts.  My mom says I'm following in her footsteps, but that remains to be seen.  Anyway, last Christmas Andrea gave me the Big Ass Book of Crafts, and armed with a few projects and a lot-o-ideas, I headed to Hobby Lobby.  Three hours later I emerged with a cart full of goodies . . . . . and then suddenly realized I'd lost three hours of my day.  I thought I'd been in there for about 45 minutes.  But, like a casino, there are no windows, no clocks, endless rows of cool stuff, and glitter and pink feathers at every turn.  How can you not spend at least three hours in there?!  Plus, everything is always at least 20% off.  Which makes me want to make 20% more gifts.  Even Harley loves crafting!

Exile on academic island

College professing is one of those jobs where, after a few years in, you suddenly realize you're living in exile in a tiny little fenced in pen on the island of academia.  Before you know it, your whole live revolves around school, and not in a good way.  Sure, we're all working 60 hours a week plus grading and lesson planning and sure we all spend 6, sometimes even 7, days a week in the office, but it's all the other stuff that really gets frustrating.  For example:

- You can't go anywhere without seeing a student: gym, restaurant, food store, our joke of a mall, Target, movie theater, even the gas station.  And students, you might think it's awkward to see your professors out and about but it's even weirder for us.  Do you know why?  Because there are so many of you, sometimes it's hard to place you outside of the classroom. Or maybe we recognize you but can't remember your name but remember when we had you (3 years ago, Italian 1020 section three at noon) but not your name.  Yup, awkward.

- The students find you on facebook and stalk you, no matter how many times you explain to them why you don't "friend" current students.  I already know a lot more about your life than you realize and I don't need to see that your sick day was a result of the "wicked kegger" you attended last night.

- Evil fees keep chasing you.  Like fees for professional organizations.  Or conference fees.  Or registration for conferences even though you're not presenting, attending, or chairing a panel . . . but you're subjecting yourself to the shark pit that are the interviews so you shell out another couple hundred (not to ever be reimbursed by anyone.  Ever).

- You operate three to five semesters ahead of the current one because you have to be selecting books, writing schedules, updating the course catalogue, selecting names for rotating subject classes, and finding new teachers to cover those "extra" courses.

You know how they say animals sense things like earthquakes before they happen?

Mine doesn't.  And he doesn't care when they hit.  We've had two earthquakes in two days and both times Harley could not have cared less.  On earthquake number one he was busy eating (read pushing his food up over the side of the bowl and then leaving it in an ugly somewhat moist pile around the cute little bowl that is supposed to keep him from pushing said food up and over the side).  On earthquake number two he was doing his other favorite thing: burrowing into the trains on my pageant gowns and making a fort.  And not because of the earthquake, he hides things in there.  Like mouse tails (not real ones, duh) and hair ties that he steals from me.  So I guess he won't be saving me from any collapsing walls any time soon.

You know you're an academic when...

So this weekend was the regional MLA conference for the South Central region and somehow or another I got roped into it.  I say that not because I don't like going to conferences, but because I really didn't even know I was going until about three weeks ago when I got a urgent message saying I still hadn't paid my registration fees.  So, I figured, well, what the heck?!

So, after class on Friday I got in the car and drive the 5 hours to Hot Springs ("boyhood home of President Bill Clinton" for those of you who aren't impressed).  But of course I misprinted the directions and in the dark in the middle of a dark and twisty road in rural in Arkansas with questionable looking characters at a gas station I'm locked in my car, asking my mom in Seattle asking her to google where I am and how far I have to go.

When I finally got to the hotel I found out that they were "pretty booked" and despite my reservation didn't actually have a room for me.  While the lame-o clerk didn't have the authority to do anything but ask repeatedly in a monotone voice what language I studied and why my hair dryer had that "thing" (aka diffuser) on the end of it, we anxiously awaited the supervisor to "find" me a room.  So I got an upgrade (to a room with a tub and shower rather than just a shower stall).  But it was also and end room that looked at the loading dock, didn't have any heat, and had paper thin walls.  Lovely.

So I ordered room service since I got the last parking spot a block down in the free garage and didn't feel like trekking back through the 3" puddle (surprise it was the last spot and I didn't feel like paying $15 for valet) to go back out and get food.  I ordered a taco salad.....and an hour later it showed up.  Granted, it was good when it got there.  It was also the hottest thing in the room (regular room temperature whereas I was clearly sitting in Arkansas's idea of an icebox).

This morning I got up early and went to register.  No one showed up to our panel.  And when I say no one.  I mean, we even begged the woman who came into steal a chair for the panel next door to stay.  We even asked some random passerby to listen in.  They both said no.  So we read to each other.  That was fun.  Or awkward.  You decide.

So, about thirteen hours after my arrival in the bustling metropolis of Hot Springs, AR I was headed back home.  And I like to sing int he car as much as the next guy, but 10 hrs in 24?  It's a little much.  But, I'm glad I went.  Turns out the three South Central Region Italiansts (2 + me that is) are AWESOME.  You probably already knew that (because I'm one of them), but let me just tell you again.  WE ROCK.  You should be jealous.  And you should come listen to the next panel so we aren't alone again.  Having to do it more than once would just be weird.

Communal peeing

Critics agree that Harley is a little outside the norm when it comes to mature kitties.  And his latest quirk?  He likes to pee every time I do.....even if he doesn't have to go.  And if I try to sneak into the bathroom?  He comes running (you'll remember he wears a purple rhinestoned collar with a bell) from wherever he is and takes a running leap into his litter box.  Weird right?  Not only!  The other day someone who doesn't live here was over and used the bathroom (of course closing the door) and Harley was beside himself!  When I went, he actually opened the door while I was doing the deed and took a big leap into his box and squeezed out a drop or two.  Yup, that's my cat.

Teacher hell

Of course we're all familiar with Dante's inferno, but did you know that teachers have their very own?  See now, what would you want to deal with for the rest of eternity?

 Circle 1: The wannabes - Those poor souls that want to be teachers but have no idea about the grading, endless hours of lesson planning, curriculum writing, grading, planning, grading, student meetings, grading, grading, grading.

Circle 2: Committee work - You always think it's not going to really be that big of a deal and then before you know it you're banging your head against the wall because half of your day was taken up by writing new committee requirements or trying to chase down the right person to give you the right verbiage so you're not opening up your committee to law suits.

Circle 3: Stalker students - They come in many forms.  There are those that just don't realize they are only one of 200 students you see on a daily basis.  Then there are the ones that have little crushes on you and can't stay away.  Then there are the weird creepy one that just keep showing up and you're really unclear on why.

Circle 4: Study abroad - Yes, putting it together can be a nightmare.  Yes, schlepping 30 wide-eyed Texans can be challenging, but dealing with a system that changes every year is the worst part.  Especially when they change it, don't tell you, and then expect you to know what to do next.

Circle 5: Incompletes - Apparently students don't know why incompletes exist or why you can't even issue one until the last part of the semester.  Don't you love it when they ask you the day before the drop deadline for an incomplete for the semester?

Circle 6: Finals - You'd think this would be at the bottom, but no.  Finals are bad, but at least you don't have to teach the next week.  You just have to grade like the wind so you can get your grades in on time.

Circle 7: Drop deadline day - This is the day when every student who is on the verge of failing shows up expecting you to tell them if they'll pass the class (no matter you haven't seen them in days and assumed they'd dropped a month earlier when they stopped showing up, turning in hw, or taking tests).  And then of course, it's your responsibility to have drop forms and all the information on the appropriate offices to drop all of these things off.

Circle 8: Day after drop deadline day - This is the day when every student (who hasn't shown up at all since day 1) realizes that they're now screwed because although they're too irresponsible to drop the class they're not attending, you didn't email them to remind them to do it.  Therefore, they're screwed, it's the teachers fault, and there's no way you could ever understand how complicated, difficult, and demanding their life is.

Circle 9: Midterms - Here's why they're bad: they all happen at the same time.  This week I have to grade two sets of second year midterms, one set of first year finals, two sets of second year compositions, one set of first year compositions, one set of third year midterms . . . and teach normal classes on top of that.

Kate, this one's for you

So a friend from high school thinks that my mature kitty, Harley, deserves his own blog.  I'm not sure he can commit to that seeing as he sleeps 23 hours a day and only wakes up to move to the next room and go back to sleep, we're going to test drive this idea.

Here's what Harley has to say about this week at Chez Jessica.

1.  I prefer to keep my eyes closed, or only open in tiny little slits, while I sleep, walk around, eat, and poop.  I don't know why people keep trying to get me to open my eyes.  It's weird.

2.  Since I'm neutered, I can't really say if I like boys or girls, but here are three things I do like: purple, rhinestones, jingle bells.  Thank you mommy for my new collar.  

3.  Dear wind: I don't like you.  That's why I try to bite you every time you come through the window.  

4.  My current obsessions are two: playing with my laser toy (and when I say playing I mean I chase it for about three minutes then I lie down and watch it for the next ten) and playing scrunch rug.  It's a very complicated game where I find every rug in the house and scrunch it up into a ball and make people trip. It's super fun.  You should try it.

5.  I don't like sitting water.  Why would I drink from the strategically placed water bowls when I can drink directly from the faucet and get nice, fresh, running water?

6.  I don't like to be held.  I don't like to open my mouth.  Therefore when Jessica holds me for more than three minutes I whine.  With my mouth closed.  It's sounds eerily like a 2-year old child.

7.  I like small spaces, this is why I have burrowed my very own fort in the bottom of the pageant gowns in the closet.  Forts are only cool if they include rhinestones and silk charmeuse.  

8.  Since people are starting to doubt my masculinity I have decided to sit spread eagle on the bed for at least ten minutes each day.  I try to hit the time when people are around too.

Harley: my flamboyant kitty child

Today I bought Harley a new collar since his humane society ugly yellow one was getting a little old.  So, if course I wanted the pink rhinestone one, but seeing as my ten year old mature kitty child is a man, I opted for purple rhinestones.  Obviously that's more manly.  But then I really started paying attention and guess what I noticed?  Harley's a little prissy.  Does your cat:

- drink prissily from the bathroom faucet but be very careful not to get his paws wet and track kitty footprints across the counter?

- do pageant feet when he sits and stares away from you?

- sleep between all of your fluffy pageant gowns all day and all night long?

- lick the gravy but avoid the solid pieces of his food?  What other cat is on a liquid diet?!

- flirt with the dogs who are pooping two floors below?

I think I got a one of a kind cat.  What do you think?

Oh no they didn't

One of my (sometimes unwanted) hidden talents is to be able to make people feel comfortable enough to share their feelings with me very very quickly.  Sometimes that's a good trait to have, other times it makes me want to reach out and slap people across the face.  First of all, if you wouldn't normally say something to someone else why must you say it to me?  Here's a list of this week's "Oh no they didn't" declarations.  And let me just tell you, oh yes they did.

1.  "Don't go falling in love with me."  What?!  How could I not?!  I mean, I always fall for self-righteous, self-centered, egotistical weirdos.  The questions is, do you really think that after talking to me for ten minutes that I just can't help by falling hopelessly in love with you?

2.  After I explained twice that we offer this particular class at 10, 12, and 2.  "But my class meets 9:30-11 so obviously I can't register for any of those class times."  I can't help you when you're in stupid mode.  Come find me when common sense has kicked back in.

3.  "I don't know why everyone thinks English is so hard."  Until you've tried to learn it or explain it to someone who doesn't speak English, you have no idea.  Ever tried explaining the difference between lead, lead, and led to a non-English speaker?  

4.  "You take people to Sicily?!  Isn't that dangerous?  I mean, what if the Mafia starts acting up."  No comment.  Except that you're an idiot.  

5.  "You're so busy you never have time to go out?  That's too bad.  Can you do this for me?"  Look, don't knock my schedule if you're just going to add things to it.  Thanks.

It's the end of the world as we know it

I've come to a realization: REM was right and I'm finally on board (anyone who knows me at all knows I'm anti-fad and I'm always a little behind the power curve.  So while everyone else gets on board with something in 2004, I might make my appearance in early 2008).  Here are the top ten signs that we're all about to kill ourselves off:

1.  Common sense seems to have taken a permanent leave of absence from about 98% of the population.
2.  People have stopped investigating anything and instead just blindly believe whatever they're told.
3.  Students have suddenly become elitist and entitled.  "I pay for this class, doesn't that mean I should pass it with flying colors while I do nothing, show up only sporadically, text while you're talking, and roll my eyes every time you call on me?"  Uh . . . . NO.
4.  Reality TV watchers think that what they're seeing is actual reality.  It's not . . . . nor will it ever be.
5.  Texas universities shut down for an entire week because of snow and ice.
6.  It snows and ices every year here in Texas yet the city doesn't own one salt truck, one sand truck, or even have snow plows that can attach to the city trucks in our time of need.  Uh . . . . if it snows every year and every year the city shuts down for days on end, buy a freaking snow plow and some salt!
7.  Paris Hilton is somehow still famous.  For nothing.
8.  I can hold my phone up to my face and see live shots of Italy while talking on skype on my wifi app. Obviously the machines are about two nanoseconds away from taking over the world.
9.  Beam me up technology is clearly still being kept secret and we're all a slave to TSA and endless flights and stinky passengers who have BO and fart in our directions.  Gross.
10.  Google books is trying to take all the real books away from us.  I still say you understand something 20x better when you can hold it in your hand and write on it.

The Mid-Semester Slump

My dearest darling students,

It's that time again: mid-semester slump time.  Granted, usually in the Fall the MSS comes after midterms, this year just seems to be extra tiring for everyone (and by everyone I include myself although ya'll seem to think I'm some sort of super-being that doesn't have any work or need for sleep).  But of course, you're students, so you either don't realize, ignore, or don't care that teachers have work too.  Now, there are many indicators that the MSS has arrived, and while these situations can pop up at any time, a combination of three more of the following definitely means the MSS has arrived.  Think for a moment, have you engaged in any of these situations?

- You roll your eyes even more than normal - which is completely inappropriate in itself.  Keep you eye rolling for the hallway and your home please.  Thank you.
- You conveniently forget (or more likely ignore) my "no technology" rule.  I'm not stupid, and I'm not blind.  I can see you texting under your desk and after I've said something three times, I just note it and drop your participation grade.
- You decide that arriving on time is no longer important (because what important information could be divulged in the first ten minutes of class?!).
- You stop doing your HW (always a good tactic when teetering on the edge of a grade).
- You ask me repeatedly when the next quiz will be even though I can see the syllabus sticking out of your notebook.  What do you think a syllabus is?  Why do you think I write it?  Why do you think I killed trees making hard copies and handing it out to you the first week of class?
- You feel the need to lecture me on how hard your schedule is, that you have more than one class, etc.  I know you never consider this, but you're not my only student, so point taken.

Well, my little lovelies, believe it or not, I've been there.  And not just me.  All teachers.  Or maybe you forgot.....we all have masters degrees, some of us even have PhDs.  I'm sure that when you call me Dr. Greenfield you don't realize it means that not only did I finish college (and listen, if you can't handle my class you wouldn't have been fed to the wolves the first day of my college experience), and I also happened to finish seven years of graduate school too.  And in a crowning achievement, I actually published a dissertation while working full time and taking care of you wee little ones.  But yes, you're right.  Your life is so much harder than mine ever was.  There's no way I could ever understand what you're going through or how hard it is to learn Italian.  I was miraculously born as a perfect being with a perfect accent, a brain that soaks up new languages through osmosis, and I have 18 arms so grading and writing tests is a breeze.  Five minutes at most.

So here is my request to you: please stop acting like an idiot, remind yourself that the world is not all about you, and stop complaining to me.  Telling me how hard you life is doesn't make me feel bad for you, it only makes me feel good about the fact that I never complained to my professors about the college experience because now I know what it looks like from their perspective (and it's not a good impression, if you're wondering).  Also, my life is hard too, but do I walk in and spend half the class-time complaining to you?  When I do, that's your cue that you should fill the second half of the class with your own complaints.  But until then, NO MORE COMPLAINING!

A new phase of Jessica

Today was a big step in my life . . . . the new phase of Texas Jessica.  Now, it's true that I've already lived here for almost two and a half years, but I've finally given in and bought and worn my first pair of cowboy boots.  Here are my observations:

1.  I have not yet mastered how these girls pull them off with dresses and walk so lady-like.  I felt clunky and heavy.  I'm not used to super thick heels I think.

2.  People say you have to wear them in until they really fit your feet.  Either I have one weird ankle bone or my right boot is fighting me.  It rubs nowhere but on my inside right ankle bone.

3.  Socks.  One of my mother's worst pet peeves about me is that I refuse to wear socks.  And in all actuality, it's been years since I've worn socks anywhere other than the gym.  I hate them, they don't feel right, they fall down, and they make your feet sweat.  But it turns out there's no wearing cowboy boots without socks.  I will have to reconcile this displeasure in some way.

Well, that's all of my observations.  

In other news, I spent another six hours in the office today.  Luckily for me, though, Peggy showed up part way through and that is always nice because it allows me to see out a window and not completely loose touch with the world.  We also decided the following three things:

1.  This semester is worse than others.  I spent six hours catching up and getting ahead only to realize that next week I have to turn in the book orders for Spring 2012 and the schedule for Fall 2012.  Oh good.....that means I also have to settle on, design, and pick books for the upper division course I'll be teaching next semester.  

2.  The weather only gets gloomy and rainy when we're finally finishing up our work and heading outside.

3.  If we were to be paid hourly (even at minimum wage), we'd be rich rich rich.  Wouldn't that be nice.

That's what we call karma.

So last night Susannah and I went to a sneak peak of the new remake of Footloose (for free! thanks to Susannah's internet surfing skills) and had a great time.  We got pink Footloose shirts (which are oddly small) and Footloose engraved sunglasses plus about a million posters.  Anyway, about half way through the movie we both realized that not only did all the actors look really really short, but oddly out of proportion.  We decided it was probably some weird camera angle to try not to reveal how short the Renn McCormack character actually is.  It's probably the same one they always use for people like Tom Cruise, but for some reason it didn't quite work this time.

Ok, so after the movie we went to Sundance Square and had dinner at Piranha Sushi (because god forbid Susannah and I should eat anything other than sushi when we're together) and then to a concert by this cool cover band.  Now you should probably know that Susannah's nickname could be mini-barbie.  She's super cute and even when she wears her giant platforms I'm guessing she's about . . . . 5'6?  Well, I'm 5'8 and generally wear 3-4" shoes.  So I turn to Susannah as we walk into the crowded patio, "If I'm not taller than 75% of the guys here I'll pay you a million dollars."  Guess what?  My bank account is still intact.  BUT, turns out that karma didn't like that little friendly bet and guess what happened?  I threw my back out again.  How is that karma you ask?  Because now I can't really stand straight up and wouldn't dare risk falling off 3" heels today.  Yup, this is clearly the big man's way of showing me what it's like to be shorter.

This is why I'm hot. This is why I'm hot. This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot.

Tonight I had a super fun dinner with great friends and hysterical conversation.  As sometimes happens, the conversation eventually turned to why I'm single and what I might need to do to change that situation.  Here's what was decided.

1.  I'm too picky.
2.  I'm not picky enough.
3.  I got sidetracked in college when everyone else seemed to be pairing off.
4.  I got sidetracked in graduate school when all the people with advanced degrees seemed to be pairing off.
5.  I got sidetracked in the second round of graduate school when the people with multiple advanced degrees seemed to be pairing off.
6.  I'm too into sports - apparently boys don't want to date girls who know more about football than they do.
7.  I'm too educated - it's hard to find boys who are into extremely educated girls.

Well I don't think it's too much to ask that a boy would like a nice smart girl who understands a 4-3 defense.  I should be a great catch!  So get it together gentlemen!

"I just don't understand why anyone would go into IT"

As I sit here and wait for my mom's 1700 songs to upload to her hard drive, I figured I'd update you on the second half of our technological endeavor.

So my mom got the ipod loaded with the 1700 songs from the PC and I tried to walk her through uploading them via a 3rd party program to the Mac.  Well, we got them on the hard drive (after about 87 tries and a lot of sighing and grunting) and now we think they're just copying from the itunes folder to the playlist.....although we're not sure and have decided we did enough for today and will "consult" tomorrow if it's not working.

As my mom says, "I just don't know why anyone would go into IT."  We just find it super exhausting.  Ugh, technology!

Technology is evil

Those of you who know me know how incredibly technologically adept I am.  Or not.  So, why is it that my mother comes to me with technology questions?  Not sure.....but it's always funny after.  Here's out latest episode.

My mom calls me on the phone and then promptly says, "Hang up, I'm calling you on skype."  Ok, so now we're on the skype and having a non conversation but making sort of weird faces at each other because there's not really anything to say.  Until she decides we should try and figure out what's wrong with Fred's ipod.  So I start walking her through the steps to transfer ipod and itunes accounts, senuti, uploading, downloading, blah blah blah.  "Wait," she says, "I'm going to sign in as Fred.  But don't go away, I'll call you on his skype.  Or maybe you'll just stay here?  Or will it make you hang up?"  Well that went on for about thirty seconds until we finally hung up and she called back from Fred's skype account. But with no sound.  So here I am trying to talk her through unmuting her microphone, trying to read her lips, watching her shake her head yes she can hear me but no she doesn't see the mute icon illuminated.  Ok, so then I get the brilliant idea to call her and talk her though unmuting skype which then deafened us both because we were both on skype and speaker phone at the same time.  Cut to a few minutes later she figures out how to fix the sound, but not the video.

Ok, finally we're both seeing, hearing, and listening to each other. Good.  Ok, so now I've sent her this magic program and but to the wrong email.  Ok, whatever, we'll figure this out later, now let's get the ipod synced with this computer, ready to go.  Ok, we get it going, find the missing files, everything is good but now we need the magic computer program that of course, is on the other account, so we finally realize, now we'll just send it to this particular email.  Ok, so we got that going, opened up, we explore home sharing, wifi, uploads, downloads, blah blah, blah and now we realize, whoopsie, we really need Mom to go upstairs and plug the ipod into the other computer, get those files, then come back and use the magic program to upload those files onto the new program.  Ok, "hold on, I'm going to plug this in and then call you back when it's ready.  But while we're waiting, can you make my scanner work?"  OBVIOUSLY NOT!

Well, stay tuned, because we're only halfway through this file transfer process and I'm basically talking her through it by just making her click on every single menu option until something finally works.

This is why we should all still be making mix tapes and going to the public library for beach reading materials.

Ridiculous Reasoning

As a single girl whose friends are mostly married and working on kids (sometimes even kid 2, 3, or 4) people often offer their unsolicited opinions as to why I'm lucky to be single.  Well, I suppose it's better than being told where I need to go or what I need to do to find Mr. Right, but still, most of stuff is just ridiculous.  Here are some examples.

1.  "You're so lucky you're single.  I'm have to do laundry all the time."
You're so right.  Us single girls, we don't wash our clothes.  We just wear the dirty ones over and over.  It's probably why we're still single.

2.  "You're so lucky you're single.  I hate cooking for more than one person."
Well, you probably don't remember this because your blinded by your wedded bliss, but recipes don't usually come in single serving directions.  And us single girls have to eat the same crap for days on end because there's only one of us to eat it.

3.  "You're so lucky you're single.  You always get to pick the movie."
Yes, and while I don't mind going to the movies alone, have you ever tried to go to a Friday night opening of some blockbuster movie by yourself?  Not as fun.  We single gals make use of the $5 first showing special and end up wasting away the sunshine hours in a dark over air conditioned theater because you paired off kind dominate the nighttime showings.

4.  "You're so lucky you're single.  You don't have to clean up after anyone."
Except myself.  And unless you're talking about your kids, maybe you shouldn't have married someone who doesn't know how to clean up after himself.  Or maybe that's one of those things you should have discussed before marriage: "I love you, but I will not clean up after you because as soon as you say 'I do' you will forget how to put things in the trash, wash dishes, put dirty clothes in the hamper, or flush the toilet."  I know there's some give and take, but those deal breaker type things probably should have been discussed up front.

5.  "You're so luck you're single.  I have to do everything around my house."
Good point.  I, who live alone, delegate my daily chores to my forty-seven cats.  At least you have two people to split stuff!  I have to take out the trash AND get the mail (and if you know me at all you'll know how much I hate hate hate getting the mail).

So, paired off people, before you tell me why I'm so lucky, just put a little thought into what you're going to say to me.

Another argument for teleportation

Everyone knows that Thanksgiving is the WORST time to travel.  Why?  Several reasons: I'm not a fan of the holiday in general, it's the start of the worst music ever (Christmas music, sorry Andrea), it's a four day weekend which isn't really that much time to travel, and everyone is cranky because they've got seventeen crying kids in tow.  Plus it's cold and snowy, which screws up the flights.  But since I'm such a good friend, I decided to find my winter clothes, ignore my hatred of 24/7 Christmas music and go to Pittsburgh to see the Aloe family.  Actually, in all honesty, visiting the Aloes makes all the bad parts go away, so it should be a great trip.  So I used my credit card points and bought a ticket on August 9th like a responsible traveler.  Great.

Today, September 8, I got an email from the credit card company saying that I needed to call because there was a change in my itinerary.  Ok, well, that was at 11 and I was at work, so I figured I'd call when I got home.  Then at 1 I got another email saying that my problems had been resolved and there was no need to call.  Lovely, my to do list is long enough.

When I got home I checked my email and guess what I found?  First of all my original ticket was for a departure on Wednesday and a return on Saturday.  Stupid Frontier airlines (who canceled my mom's tickets twice in the past) decided to cancel their flights to Pittsburgh the day before Thanksgiving.  Is that not the stupidest thing you've ever heard?!  Ok, fine.  But when I took a closer look, they'd also changed my return flight to Friday.  Ok, in what world is it ok to make a 4 day trip an overnight?  And in what world would you think that a person traveling the day before Thanksgiving would then want to travel on the holiday itself arriving in the afternoon?

Ok, so I call the credit card company and guess what they tell me?  "Oh, sorry miss but it looks like everything is pretty much sold out on Wednesday."  Oh really?!  Of course it is!  Because all the smart people like me bought those tickets.  Ugh, ok, so forty five minutes later I'm still on the phone waiting for the woman to get approval from the airline for them to give me a refund (in points not dollars and that won't be credited to my account for a few days, so it's not like I can buy another ticket with points today).  Fine, so finally I get it all squared away and then sit down to buy yet another ticket (oh how I love scouring the discount travel sites).

So here is my conclusion:  we should all be traveling in tiny particles, instantaneously, only to be put together on the other side with as much luggage and liquids as we want.  Don't you agree?!

Beam me up, Scotty.

I generally don't preach my conspiracy theories, but can we all agree that beam--me-up-technology is probably developed but being kept under wraps so the airline industry doesn't tank any more than it already has?  If you don't agree, think about it for a while.....I promise you'll be on my side in about an hour.

I had the lovely pleasure to travel to Baltimore this weekend and I'm pretty sure I got to experience every nasty, annoying, stupid thing people do when they are cattle herded, shoeless and beltless, through giant metal detectors that are probably giving us all cancer.  I could go on forever, but here are the top 5 most annoying things that happened last night.

1.  The man behind me in the security line seemed to have some kind of turrets (at least I hope so because otherwise there's no excuse).  Every 3.2 seconds he hiccuped, burped (read big fat beer belch), farted, gurgled, or spit into his handkerchief.  It was disgusting.  And to top it all off, he wouldn't cover his mouth so he was blowing all his yuckiness toward the back of my head....ewww.

2.  The big haired Dallas woman who plopped down next to me, removed her shoes, and propped her bare, peeling feet on her suitcase (about 2 feet away from my bagel) felt the need to clear her throat every 90 seconds.  And when I say "clear her throat" I mean she made some kind of super deep, old man grumble in her throat that made our whole bench shake.  Lovely.  I pretty much wanted to wipe cream cheese all over her feet and then make her swallow a whole bag of cough drops.

3.  The sweaty man next to me, the same one who refused to remove his cowboy hat (which was accompanied by grey gym shorts and a matching threadbare tshirt) insisted on leaning on me the whole flight.  That and updating his facebook status every five minutes with how many miles we'd traveled.  I know in-flight WiFi is a new cool thing, but are you so important that an update needs to be made every three minutes?  I think not.

4.  Listen, this whole boarding zones thing is a racket.  I don't get it....there's no rhyme or reason to how you get put into a zone, but whatever.  Back to my point.  When your plane is delayed an hour and you want to get home on the late night Monday of the three day weekend, why do you think you're the only one who should get on the plane first?  And why do you get to take three bags on when the rest of us get one and a "personal time"?  But please, run your raggedy a** suitcase over my feet and cut in front of the other twenty people in line, it's all about you.  Go ahead, really, it's fine.

5.  When you run an airport, you may have heard that accessible exits are an important aspect of public safety.  So, when my plane (stuffed with 187 people) gets in an hour and a half late at 11:00pm and we all want to go home, why have you dismantled the main exit door?  Thanks for making us all squish one by one through a geriatric revolving door.  I love waiting for 20 minutes just to get out of the secure zone.  Way to go DFW....I hate your signage, your stupid tolls, and now I hate your exit doors.

So now, I prefer to only travel through Star Trek technology.  Who's with me?

Early onset menopause?!

It's day 89435 of 100+ degree temperatures and I think I'm on the verge of cracking.  Here's the thing: I'm aware that I live in Texas (read devil's wasteland) and it's supposed to be hot.  BUT, am I supposed to suffer from back sweat inside?  The correct answer is no, yet I've been hot every day for the last 12 days straight and there are only three options: early onset menopause (yikes), pregnancy by immaculate conception (I'm not sure I should be birthing any saviors), or Texas is so freaking cheap they refuse to air condition the inside.  Let us explore, shall we?

Option 1: Early onset menopause
I'm only 29 but there is a grand possibility that my body, having watched 800 episodes of Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, and Bridezillas, has given up on the possibility of marriage and a family.  Feeling there's no use in the continuation of female internal processes, it may have made a command decision to just retire and head to Florida with all it's other buddies.  Irrational?  No, not really.  Likely?  No, not really.

Option 2: Pregnancy by immaculate conception
Considering my situation (see above) I'm guessing that there's about a 0.00001% chance I'm pregnant (and that's generous) but you never know, right?  Are we in need of a new savior?  Did I get voted in as carrier of aforementioned savior?  Probably not.

Option 3: Cheap cheap Texas
It's been 107 for (1, 2, 3, 4 . . . ) everyday for as long as I can remember.  So why are we skimping on the AC people?  Not that I'm rolling in dough, but I'm happy to donate a few dollars a month to the electric bill if that's what it's going to take.  Is it acceptable for me to be sitting in my office, completely still, not exerting any energy, and feeling hot?  NO!  How am I supposed to win over the little freshman if I feel a little drop of sweat forming on my brow . . .  every ten seconds? Do you realize how uncomfortable it is to write on a chalkboard when you're pretty sure it's not a good idea to raise your arms?  How am I supposed to be taken seriously?  Sure, the students come in their gym clothes and tissue paper cover-ups, but I'm thinking the university might not appreciate it if I do.  Therefore, I am issuing this ultimatum:  Either turn up the AC or Jessica shows up naked next Friday.  That'll show you what "spirit Friday" means to me.  And just to show I support the university, I'll wear a green ribbon in my hair.

Thank you and goodnight.

You know it's the first day of school when

Surprise I'm still alive (but barely as our building tried to sweat us out today) and have survived the first day of school.  It went well, but of course those first day of school events happened all over the place.  In case you're not a teacher, you know it's the first day of school when:

- you sit down to at least three frantic emails from students who were "dropped without consent" from your class and can you please save their seat

- no one has their book

- you have a steady stream of students asking if they can just skip the grammar course even though they took the placement test and tested into it

- you teach an important language, but the powers that be don't agree and you're in danger of losing yet another section

- you get an email five minutes before class from a student who is "super serious about this class but I'm still at home visiting my family so I won't be there today.  But don't let that lead you to believe I'm not totally dedicated to learning Italian."  Really?  What does dedicated mean to you?

- a student with an unpronounceable name asks you what the Italian translation is.  Don't get me started on my rant about translation of proper nouns!

- you lose your incredibly detailed lesson plan only to find it after class right where you thought it was

- you realize on your walk to the classroom that you have no idea what classroom you're actually supposed to be teaching in

- you have the depressing realization that this is the one and only day for the next fifteen weeks you won't be grading, grading, grading, grading, grading all night long

In anticipation of the first day of school

Tomorrow is the first day of school and already today I tried to fail a student because of his attitude.  I don't even think he's taking Italian, but when I tell you no once, don't argue.  If I want a discussion I will invite it.  And please don't pull the, "Ok, I'm just paying you all this money and you won't let me...." because guess what?  You're not paying me.  And if you're so entitled that you can't listen, you do not want me as your teacher.  Here are some other tips for not setting yourself up to fail.

1.  Please get dressed.  I do not appreciate pajamas or sweaty gym clothes in class.  It's gross and you look lazy.

2.  Don't give up on the first day.  If you do, you'll never make it and you might as well just get up and leave, go straight to the computer and drop my class.

3.  Read the syllabus.  98% of the questions you'll ask can be answered there.  And I'll go over it with you so please don't be an idiot.

4.  Figure out what you should call me on the first day.  Then you're not in week 14 trying to figure out if you should refer to me as Professor, Ms., etc.

5.  Get the book.  I notice who shows up unprepared on day one and you don't want to start in the hole.

Things that will make me hate you instantly

I'm sure you're aware that I'm the most open and welcoming person of all time.  Just ask my friend Andrea, I welcomed her with open arms the first day I met her (now we'll see if she reads my blog or not....she'll definitely have something to say about this if she does)!  But there are several things that will make me hate you instantly.  Here is a small sampling.

1.  If you talk to me like I am 5, I will hate you instantly.

2.  If you speak slowly because you think it will make me believe you more, I will hate you instantly.  I'm not stupid and speaking convincingly does not equal slowly.  In addition, I will most likely cut off all verbal communication with you and only speak with you via email.  Please don't simulate your slowness with ellipses.  More than three of those in one email is too much.

3.  If I ask you a question and you respond with a fluff answer on more than one occasion, I will hate you instantly.  Do you realize that it's much easier to deal with situations when one KNOWS WHAT THE SITUATION IS?!  I'm happy to deal with what you throw at me, but you have to be clear with what I need to navigate.

4.  If you tell me how I should feel (this includes the command, "Smile, it will make you feel better!"), I will hate you instantly.  If I'm not feeling happy, I will not smile.  You telling me to smile just makes me unhappy and now ticked off that I have to be around you.  Feelings need to be felt, please don't invalidate my emotions by telling me which one you think I should feel.

I don't know why everyone doesn't want to be my friend.  I'm a ball of sunshine!

A note on DMV etiquette

As you may have read, unfriendly mustache cop gave me a ticket the other day (annoying) and then wrote half old / half new address on the ticket.  And when I say old, I mean two addresses ago.  I'm not really a rebel, but one thing I do not do is update my driver's license every time I move.  This is for several reasons: 1) I move every year, 2) I have a CDL and therefore can't do it online, and 3) It costs money and I'm not into spending money on things that don't matter.  But, when you get a ticket, turns out you can get an extra fine if you settle the ticket with an incorrect license.  So I ventured to the DMV to get it updated.

When I got there in the morning, the line was 4 hours long, apparently it's the last day to get a permit before school starts for high schoolers and they, like me, all planned ahead and waited till the last possible moment.

I went away and came back in the afternoon and the wait was down to two hours, but since I only had to change my address I figured I'd get one of those comes-up-super-quick numbers.  Well, sort of.  Turns out if you have a CDL you have to take a new picture and update ALL of your information except for the vision test.  Well, fine.  So I sat down along with 80 of my closest friends and waited.  Here are some of the highlights of my 60 minute wait:

- Jesus freak husband and wife preaching to the people sitting next to them and asking everyone with an iPhone to help them look up bible stories so they could complete their Christian crossword.  Turns out the wife had had cancer and somehow that prevented them from taking each others' names when they married (28 years earlier) but now their daughter works for American Airlines and they want to take advantage of the free flying so they needed to update their records.

- Angry desk man who had to check everyone in.  The maximum occupancy in the building was 49 and apparently you can't block the door, but when there are 60 people inside and another 30 in line, yelling at them to please close the door, keep the walkway clear, and have your license out when you get to his desk was a little bit ridiculous.

- Annoyed 80s perm lady who stepped out from behind the desk to tell us we were all being too loud.  If they call your number three times and you miss it, you have to start over and they can't hear peoples' weight and height because the talking is just too loud.  Uh, maybe it's because there are 568 people crammed into a 30x30 room?!  And do you really think that babies can be silenced because every woman in Texas quietly conveys a fake weight to you?

- Black family(?) behind me.  I'm not actually sure how they were related, if at all, but there was a mom aged woman , a teenager who three times wrote the wrong home address, and a young girl who couldn't believe the driver license office didn't serve free juice.  The teenager had maybe just moved to Texas?  I'm not sure but she had a special 900-level number but only one counter was taking care of that number and she was furious that it was the slowest worker.  Plus she had to refill out her form three times because she didn't know her address and you can't use white out on an official form.  The littler girl was cute but carrying someone else's purse and kept hitting people and she weaved up and down the crowded aisles.

- Inappropriately dressed 16 year olds.  Who told you to wear booty shorts, crocs with socks, and see through shirts to your diver test?!  Where is your mother?  Ah, there she is, she must be the one in the ultra revealing maxi dress and 6 inch heels, yes now I understand.

So, good times all around but now I have an eleven dollar replacement for my CDL that will probably be incorrect in another 10 months.

Crappy McCrapperson

So this week has sucked.  Harley the mature kitty is settling into his new home (and shedding like a crazy man since this Northwest kitty is living through Texas' 3rd longest heat wave in history) but my week cannot be over quick enough.  Let's recap, shall we?

1.  As I leaned over to put lotion on my legs, something in my back snapped and I uttered a string of curses that could rival any sailor/potty-mouth/prisoner/gangsta as I crumpled to the floor, not to stand upright again for three days.  I don't know what happened but I feel strongly that my 29 year old back should take much better care of me than it has done this week.

2.  I went to see the Change-Up because I believe that Jason Bateman is the most under appreciated brilliant actor of our generation.  The good news is that he remains a brilliant actor, but the movie sucked.  Way to go writers.  You had several hilarious actors and you made them recite the stupidest lines that ever been written.  My mom says even the actors said that movie was bad and if my mom says it, it's true.

3.  I got my first speeding ticket yesterday from a cop with a scary mustache.  Granted, yes I was going over the speed limit, but is it really fair to ask someone to slow from 45 to 30 mph going downhill in about 15 feet?  My opinion is no.  Mustache cop disagreed.  He was also not willing to negotiate.

4.  I am, yet again, up to my eyeballs in budget writing and currency conversion hell.  Here's my question, if I've written the same proposal three years in a row, why can't you recycle it?  Just because your office has a 100% turn over rate does not mean I should be punished.

5.  I am in the midst of an ongoing bad hair month.  Thank you Texas for mixing hot hot wind, 100 degree temperature and 90% humidity for five months a year.  Those of us with curly hair suffer and there's nothing we can do about it.

I hope that next week is better because with another two or three months of bad hair ahead of me, I need a reprieve on the other items.

Kitty on a plane

Today was exhausting.  Harley (my new mature kitty from the Humane Society of Tacoma) and I made the trek from Seattle to Dallas and it was a workout.  Let's take it step by step, shall we?

1.  After much deliberation, my mother and I go down and get Harley who we take home and confine him to my bedroom so that he is quarantined from the other 2 cats living in the house.

2.  After feeling bad for my mature kitty I let him out and he promptly starts making friends with my mom's cat Vino and having a five day stand off with Berkeley.  He also decided that under my mother's bed (which has an un-liftable mattress) was the place he wanted to hang out.

3.  On day three I take Harley to the vet to get his certificate of health and prepare for our cross country trip.  Although he'd already had his rabies booster, we didn't have the brand name so he was given a one year booster and I promptly started worrying that too much rabies was introduced into his little kitty system and he would be frothing at the mouth by the time we got him home.  Simultaneously the hippie granola tree hugger vet lady says, "New research suggests against sedation for traveling animals."  Uh . . . what?!  How am I supposed to get this mature baby home?!

4.  On my birthday my mom and I go to the hippie hut and pick up some "Happy Traveler" pills which are natural pills that help calm animals.  They told us we should try it out and make sure it didn't hurt his tummy so nurse mamma shoved the horse pill down Harley's throat and he starts lazily wandering around the house.

5.  On travel day, Harley is loaded into his cage, given a "Happy Traveler" pill and put in the car.  Where he proceeded to cry all the way to the airport.  Then my dear sweet mother helped me get him through security (do you know you have to remove the animal from his cage to go through security?!  How how how can this be a good idea?!) and then helped Harley swallow another pill before leaving me to fend for myself.  The cat did not like sitting in the airport although he was ok walking.  When we finally got settled in the plane there was another kitty in our same row and a violently airsick  girl in the seat behind me.  Harley did great (although every half hour if he didn't move I though he was dead and had to wake him up) until the last 45 minutes of the flight, at which point he got pissed and wanted out of his cage.  When we finally landed we made it back home in the 108 degree heat and cooled the apartment.  He's now panting, giving me the evil eye, begging for lovin', and hissing at me all at the same time.  Good times.

I don't know how people do this on a regular basis and if I ever move to Italy this is going to take some MAJOR planning.

Dear BravoTV, I am so disappointed in you

If you are a loyal BravoTV fan like I am you've surely noticed that they have filmed a new show in Dallas that will start airing about a month from now.  I think it's called Dallas Most Eligible or something like that.  Basically it follows five or six young socialites (called professionals, but come on, when did BravoTV ever pick the hardest working stars?) as they look for love.  Uh, hello?!  I HATE IT WHEN THEY STEAL MY LIFE AND THEN PASS IT OFF AS THEIR OWN IDEA!  Clearly I should have been consulted, included (I can fake socialite very well), and placed on the production staff as well . . . am I right?

While I must refrain from passing ultimate judgement until a show or two have been aired here's what I've seen so far on the ads: cowboy hats, a metrosexual super hair gelled blondie complaining about people loving him for his last name, an electronic bull, and dresses that are way too short.  Now, we all know I loves me some TV, but BravoTV, have you looked in the mirror?  Miami Social was a HUGE flop, the housewives series fizzled after the first few cities . . . just giving a new name to the same premise does NOT mean it will be a winner.  Again, I haven't seen the show, so this could be the next big thing.

In other news I'm currently watching My First Place on HGTV and the husband and wife shoppers have color coordinated their shopping outfits: Day 1 they both wore jeans and blue shirts, Day 2 was a purple dress and purple polo, and Day 3 was yellow and yellow.  I think it's cute when people dress their kids alike, but perhaps full grown adults should consider refraining from that practice.  Just an idea.

Thoughts of the day

Here's how I know I'm a very strange individual:

1.  I like having my eyebrows waxed.  I think it feels good.

2.  When other people dine alone I always wonder why no one wants to eat with them, but when I go out to lunch/dinner alone I always assume everyone thinks I'm very some important business person or secret agent.

3.  I hate everyone when I first meet them.  Including my best friends.....but it usually only lasts for about ten minutes.

4.  Sicilian women hate me.  I love that they hate me.  After seven years, now they seem to love me.  I think that means I've become partially Sicilian.

5.  I swam competitively in high school and college but don't know what to do in the ocean.  What's fun about being in water if you're not swimming back and forth?

6.  If I ever moved to Italy I would adopt every street cat I could find.  I've already adopted three street kitties: Angry kitty, hungry kitty, and fluffy kitty.  Angry kitty has only one tooth by the way.

7.  I love grammar and would be happy to do grammar exercises all day long.

8.  My mom is awesome and thinks I'm funny even when I'm not.

9.  Funfetti cupcakes have not made their way to Italy.  Get it together Betty Crocker.

10.  Noncommittal equals mysterious.  And in a small town mysterious is always good.

Honeymoon Island.

I've come up with a new brilliant idea (which I shall soon patent and then live off the royalties): Honeymoon Island.  Not too fast now, it's not just for newlyweds, it's for all of you who feel the need to broadcast your sloppy PDA to the world.  Guess what?  We (read I, but one must remember that in this blog I'm the only one who matters) don't want to see it.  It makes us (refer to previous parenthetical notation) want to barf and then gouge our eyes and ears out.  That is why for the low low price of $50/day you can go to Honeymoon Island where everyone will be all over each other all the time but you won't care because all you focus on is yourself anyway.

Not sold yet?  Here are some of the perks of Honeymoon Island.

1.  SEMI PRIVATE ROOMS.  Ok, so you have to share your room with six other couples, but you won't even notice because while you make out in front of me and hang all over each other you are completely oblivious to the death glares and gagging sounds I'm making, so I'm sure you won't even notice the other people in the room.

2.  JELLYFISH INFESTED BEACHES.  Perhaps this will teach you to stand in the water making out while poor innocent children point and stare and while the rest of us (or maybe just me, but somewhere in the world I'm sure there are people who share my sentiments) turn up the music on the ipod and try to block out our peripheral vision as we read our books.

3.  ALL MEALS ARE "SERVICE FOR ONE."  I know I love going to a restaurant and watching you sit on your partner's lap and eat off of one plate even though there are seven different plates of food on your table.  I especially love it when you cleanse your palates with each others' tongues in between courses.  This special service will provide you with one chair, one plate, and one fork.  The savings just keep rolling in!

4.  NO SPA TREATMENTS OFFERED.  Watching you straddle each other at the beach and massage each other in plain daylight makes even the little kids gag.  Here on Honeymoon Island we know you won't use our spa services so we've cut them all together.  Just another way we're saving you money!

5.  NO REFUNDS, NO DISCUSSIONS, NO QUESTIONS.  Chances are you'll start fighting and hating each other in about five minutes, and we don't want to hear about it.  All payments are due up front and in full.  If you break up or get divorced before you get here, we don't care.  If you break up while you're here, please don't talk to us about it.  If you get here and you're completely disgusted by the repugnant displays of affection that are taking place all around you, welcome to how I feel.

Thank you and good night.

A note on beach etiquette

Here in Cefalù most people have learned that there are certain things you always do, sometimes do, and never do at the beach.  Then there are people who are completely clueless and make me hate them (on a side note, my desired secret power to to paralyze people with my death glare).  I am not at all frugal with my death glare and here are some of the things that might warrant it.

1.  When it's windy and you pick up your towel and shake your sand all over me, I will give you a death glare.  Likewise, if you walk by in flip flops and flip sand all over me, I will give you a death glare.  Finally, if your child runs by me, kicking sand onto me repeatedly I will give you a death glare.

2.  If you are making out with your significant other and I have to listen / watch / be witness I will give you a death glare and then get up and move.  You are gross and I don't want to hear your slurping noises.

3.  If you insist on chain smoking and blowing the smoke in my face I will give you a death glare, cough like I caught the plague, and then glare at you again.  Next year I'm going to get a bikini with a giant picture of my rotting lungs from your second hand smoke, how do you feel about that?!

4.  If you wear swim trunks and roll them up like they're a speedo I will give you a death glare and then wonder why you didn't just buy the speedo?

5.  If you and your sixty five annoying fifteen year old friends opt to sit right next to me and annoy me I will give you a death glare and possibly give you a lecture on why you're annoying.

On the other hand, there are many things that will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

1.  If you have yummy smelling sunscreen and you reapply at a reasonable interval, you will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

2.  If you organize your belongings nicely, lay yourself down, and read quietly or chat with friends, you will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

3.  If your kids are super cute and you're not an annoying overbearing parent (or one who has no control whatsoever), you will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

4.  If you go swimming, drip all over me and then apologize, you will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

5.  If you are normal and don't stare oddly at me, you will attract my "please, lay your things here in my vicinity" smile.

Ten questions I could stand never to answer again.

As a young hot single (read independent shy book nerd) girl in her late twenties, there are a series of questions I could stand to never answer again.  I'm sure you probably have gotten these too, but it's always good to remind the greater public just how thrilled we are to answer these questions.

1.  So, are you dating anyone?
Well . . . if I were and I like you I would have told you by now.  If I were and you don't know, there's probably a reason.  But in all likelihood, no, I'm not, but thank you for reminding me how single I am.  Please refer to Bridget Jones before speaking to me again.

2.  So . . . you teach Italian?  Like the language?
No, in America when we say Italian we mean applied physics.  Didn't you know?

3.  When you do you think you'll get married and settle down?
It's scheduled for five weeks from the 21st of March, 2014.  Perhaps you should refer to question 1 and then decide if that's really a pertinent question.

4.  What's Texas like?
It's probably me, but how am I supposed to answer that question?  And what are you really asking?  If people ride their horses to school in the morning and play with their spurs in class?  Texas is like everywhere else I've lived just hotter.

5.  You're 28 and you've already finished you're PhD?  How?
Well, to tell you the truth I'm 47.  And second, I lie.  I didn't even finish high school.  I don't have a good answer other than I went to school, stayed in school, finished school, and now I'm 28.

6.  Dov'è Termini?
Anyone, anyone?

7.  Why do you have two middle names?
Because on my planet we give all the promising ones two middle names.  That's how we weed out the aliens that will be sent to earth to conquer your people.

8.  Wow, you teach Italian?  That's cool.  So have you ever been to Italy?
Nope.

9.  How did you know you wanted to study Italian?
How did you know you wanted to study what you study?

10.  You're an Italian professor?  What's that like?
It's thrilling.  Most days I read books in French, translate them into German, and then recite them aloud in pig latin to my officemates.  My other degree is in cynicism . . . I think that's where I really excel.

8 tips for touring responsibly

Sooner or later, if you're like me, being called a tourist becomes extremely offensive.  Granted, I tend to travel to the same place year after year and no longer consider myself a tourist here.  When I go to new places, fine, yes, I'm a tourist and I don't mind if you call me that.  But I also think that, when touring, one should be responsible.  Here in Cefalù, tourists are SUPER easy to spot and therefore get charged double for their coffee, dinner, lunch, beach lounger, etc.  Now, if you're like me and have pale skin and red hair you will probably not be mistaken for a local in places like equatorial Africa, but I can proudly say that after 7 years, people FINALLY think I'm from here.  Even when I was in Pisa last week three different people asked me if I was Sicilian.  I said yes.  

In an effort to avoid the "evil tourist" tag, here are some things you might want to keep in mind as you travel.

1.  Avoid yelling (maybe I have sensitive ears, but why can't you use your inside voice?) in your native language in the middle of piazza duomo on your cell phone.  You're annoying everyone and just inviting people to charge your 3 euros for a cappuccino when the rest of us pay 1.30.

2.  While you may be doing a lot of walking and opt for tennis shoes, select socks that can easily be hidden in side of them (or just avoid gym shoes all together like me).  Furthermore, consider the country in which you are traveling.  Are you in Italy, the fashion capital of the world?  Then perhaps you should put a little effort into making sure you clothes match and that your jeans are long enough.  I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

3.  When going to a foreign country where you do not speak the language, you should make the effort to learn (if nothing else) a few useful phrases.  When you go to someone else's country, refuse to speak their language, and then are offended when they can't understand you, it makes you look like a big giant a** hole.  Even if you just learn "Hello, do you speak English?" you'll gain points.  Did you know that shop workers appreciate it when you pull our your phrase book and make much more of an effort to help you if they see you're making an effort to communicate with them?  

4.  Jorts are not appropriate for men in any country.  Period.

5.  When you stand in the middle of the street looking at your tour guide and then up at the sky and then at the tour guide and then at the sky again oblivious to the car and walking traffic around you and unaware that you're blocking everyone's path, you deserve to be pick-pocketed.  Yes, it's harsh, but wake up and get out of my way.

6.  If you go to a country that exercises the afternoon pausa don't get upset when at 2:30 most of the stores are closed.  Also keep in mind that most people don't eat dinner at 6:00 in the evening.  Most restaurants in the world don't even open until 7 or 7:30.  Plan accordingly and don't be surprised every day of your three week vacation.

7.  In a small town in Sicily you need to learn to what to share, what to keep to yourself, and what you should never talk about even though you saw it happen out in the open.  If you have any common sense, you shouldn't have too hard of a time figuring out what goes into what category.  Small towns are the same everywhere . . . think before you speak.

8.  Always be reminded that drinking yourself into oblivion is a stupid American pastime that is not well-respected around the world.  Drinking yourself into a stupor only makes you look like an idiot and the drunken American stereotype live for one more day.   

Welcome to Palermo where the players.....strangle each other with their belts

The last stop on Jeff and Jessica's excellent adventure was the trip from Rome back to Palermo and then Cefalù.  Of course things are always very exciting and of course there's at least one good story at some public place.  Yesterday's took place at the Palermo Centrale train station.

Jeff and I boarded our flight to Palermo and then got on the bus to take us to the train station.  When we got there, we bought out tickets and realized we had about half an hour to wait.  And then all of a sudden there was a little scuffle (which of course I missed because I'm ALWAYS looking the other way when something important happens) and Jeff goes, "Wow, there's a big fight over there."  Now Jeff, the responsible American, turned to walk the other way.  Guess what Jessica did?  Joined the other Sicilians and went right up to watch.  (In all fairness, you have to keep in mind that Sicilians tend to be watchers not fight breaker-uppers and even though there's a police station in the train station it always takes at least ten minutes for them to get there . . . so more than watching I was just making sure no one died before the police could intervene.)  Ok, so we missed the beginning of the fight so I'm not sure what the problem was, but man #1 was REALLY mad at man #2 (I'm assuming it had to do with petty crime . . . man #2 looked like he might be the type to try and steal someone wallet or man purse or something).  Anyway, man #1 had removed his belt, wrapped it around man #2's neck and was alternating between threatening to and actually trying to strangle him.  At some point two men in pink polo shirts with popped collars stepped in to try and remove the belt and at least make it a fair fight, but not with much success.  So then it settled down for a minute and then man #1 launched himself at man #2 again.  Somehow man #2 got free and took off through a bar (which really pissed off the bar owner) and down the street.  By the time we got outside to see what had happened man #2 was gone and man #1 was being held back by a veggie vendor.

At this point everyone started heading back inside and then we realized that the police were standing there.  Man #1 started screaming, "Now you show up?!  Now?!  I called you ten minutes ago!  Now he's gone!"  The police, in true Sicilian fashion, pointed at their watches explaining, "Sir, you called us and now we're here, that's how it works."  Anyway, then they all started yelling in Sicilian so I didn't get much of it, but they ended up taking man #1 back with them to question him.

You can't really get the true Italian experience without an altercation of some kind I truly believe, and seeing as no one got hurt, this one makes a good story I think.

In other news . . . Maureen and Tim introduced us to the debauchery that is the Jersey Shore filming in Florence this week.  They (we think there are 8 - oh dear lord) are working in a pizza shop (keep in mind they speak no Italian) and wreaking havoc on the lovely city the rest of the time.  By the time I left Florence I managed to walk though their filming three different times . . . whoopsie!  First we saw them working, then another day I was sitting outside the Cappelle Medicee and two of them walked by and then later that day another two or three were getting tattoos at a shop in Via Faenza.  We think we saw Snookie (although I thought she was really short, but Jeff said it was here) working at the pizza shop but some annoying producer yelled at us to keep moving before we could really register what was happening.  The only good thing is that the mayor of Florence made them write into the contract that they couldn't be filmed drinking in public in Florence.  I'm not sure if that means they get drunk at home first and then go out or they just go out and not on camera, but Maureen said she's heard them (she lives on one of the main streets in Florence) late at night trying to make their way home.  Lovely.  Even though Florence is full of Americans I hope they don't think that group is an accurate representation of what the majority of us are like.  That would be a tragedy . . . and this coming from an avid reality tv watcher (although Jersey Shore is one show I have never seen and have no intention of watching).

Now it's back to normal life here in Cefalù.  Oh Cefalù, we are such good friends . . .

And this is only halfway

Tomorrow my best friend Jeff will return to his birthplace of Italy accompanied by tour guide and translator, Jessica.  We will then proceed to spend ten days in true Jeff and Jessica fashion as we make our way across Lazio, through Tuscany, and then finishing with a grand finale in Sicily.  I expect this will finally be the wake up call for BravoTV to give me my own reality show.  

In honor of Jeffrey's impending visit, I will now recount the top five funniest moments of my trip so far......and this is only halfway!

1.  Today as I ate lunch at Non solo pane with Susannah a VERY creepy Italian (dressed from head to toe in powder blue) stared at us up and down the street.  And then proceeded to follow us.  He also tried to hold my hand, kiss me, and tell me it was destiny that brought us together.  Uh, no sicky mcsickerson, it was the voices in your head telling you that you're normal.

2.  I often sit in the administrative offices of a friend and check my email, use skype, etc.  There are also a graphic designer and an architect who share this space.  Today, the graphic designer is apparently suffering from some kind of intestinal parasite.  As I write this, I am being serenaded by a symphony of burts and farts and groans.  Lovely.  Glad I'm not shut up in there with him.

3.  A few weeks ago I went with some friends to a bar where one of them was received as a god.  Apparently his tattoos were so amazing that they made several of the locals kiss his tattooed arms.  Weird.

4.  Last night, in true Italian fashion, I got to witness the ultimate screaming fight.  My lovely neighbors were fighting for hours.  I got home around 1ish and they were still going strong at 3:30.  The girl kept claiming "You've ruined everything!" then slapping the boy, then storming out in a huff, and then pounding on the door since she failed to bring her keys with her.  Here's a tip honey, if you're going to storm out, storm out.  If you're going to keep coming back, bring your keys with you.  

5.  At a recent wine tasting several Germans got themselves so drunky drunk that they tried to translate directly and ended up talking about all sorts of crazy sex stuff.  It was a little awkward, a lot funny, and just a tiny bit weird all at the same time.  Rumor has it no one made it to class in top fashion the next morning.

Special post: 100th entry!!!

Clearly if I had my own TV show this would be a big deal: the 100th episode!  But, alas, Bravo hasn't gotten it together enough to offer me a show, so for now, the blog will have to do.

Here I am, sitting in the common area of an Italian office building trying to pretend like I belong and writing a blog.  So, here's the topic: You know you're in Italy when.  Obviously if you've ever been here there's no doubting that you're in Italy, but if you were from another planet and didn't really know, here are some definite signs that yes, friends, you are in Italy.

1.  There are no lines, only giant clumps of people pushing and shoving to get into whatever door first.

2.  When a cell phone rings, the responder screams, and yes I do mean screams, PRONTO!!!!!! into the receiver.

3.  Popped collars abound.

4.  There is an overwhelming amount of fanny packs.  Worn by men.  As if they are cross body bags.  Not a great look if you ask me, but whatever.

5.  There is always a mad older lady yelling in the background.

6.  People are standing in front of a no smoking sign, chain smoking.

7.  Sunglasses are worn at all hours of the day.  Even rainy days.  And even at night.

8.  It's 11 am and people are already ordering cocktails at the local bar.

9.  You're walking down the street and the woman in front of you has a "bring it on bitch" look on her face and refuses to step out of your way even though you're rolling a 50 lb suitcase, carrying a 40 lb backpack, talking on your cell phone and trying not to drop your purse.

10.  You order a cappuccino after lunch (don't worry, I only fell into this trap once 7 years ago) and there is a collective gasp by all present patrons in the bar.

Confessions from a conspiracy theorist

So 24 hours from now I'll be traveling in a giant metal tube across the giant ocean over to Italy.  Luckily my first flight is the long one, 9 hours over to Amsterdam, but I just think it's ridiculous that in 2011 we still have to fly for 12 hours to get to Italy.  Hello!  Does anyone else think that maybe the government is hiding technology from us?  Is it really possible that they cannot yet beam us (luggage and all - and just think how much MORE  you could bring if you didn't have to lug it around yourself!) wherever we want to go?  No. Clearly, the airline bigwigs and the scientists are in cahoots.  I'm not sure why yet, but I'm still working on it.

Anyway, I hate the travel to Europe because you get screwed up on your nighttime.  You leave the US in the early afternoon and fly east, so before you know it, it's nighttime.  And then two hours later the sun is coming up.  Well, I get so excited that I usually end up seeing how many movies I can watch in Italian on my way over.  That probably won't happen this time since I'm on KLM, but you never know, the Dutch are pretty high tech, maybe they have a bunch of languages on their flights.

I'm hoping I don't die on my way to Italy, but there will certainly be some sort of near death experience - there always is.  Once is was a nasty case of food poisoning (thanks Chicago O'Hare for serving bad chicken), another time we had to abort a landing and then almost slid off the end of the runway when we did land in Paris during a really bad snow storm.  I'm sure this death defying journey will be no less traumatic.  And who wants to bet I'll either a)have a middle seat or b)get a window seat but next to one of those people who doesn't respect personal space.  There it is, right there.  I bet the reason they haven't released the beam-me-up-Scotty technology yet is because the government is playing big brother and gets a kick out of watching people squirm in airplanes for hours on end.  Maybe they even try to match the naked scanner photos from security to the unhappy squished people in the planes.  I'm pretty sure that's it.

Anyway, Italy here I come.  Prepare yourself, Sicily, it's going to be a good summer.

Clearly I should be queen of the world.....still.....in case there was ever any doubt

Yes, I know this is probably my most recurrent post, but for whatever reason, the world hasn't yet gotten on board.  I'm going to blame it on lack of advertising.  It's not that I think I'm better than anyone else, I just think I'm willing to do it - and do away with the stupidity and ridiculousness that seems to dominate right now.

Today was one of those days that I hate.  First of all, the Texas sky though it was ok to open up and just pee all over me.  Annoying.  Has it not realized this is Texas?  It's supposed to be oppressively hot, not thundery and rainy.  Then I had to wait forever for my lunch.  I am pretty darn serious about food, and I think it's completely unacceptable that I had to wait more than 30 minutes.  Then I had to finish my dissertation revisions, which was fine, but then it was on to formatting.  Listen.  It should be someone's job to just sit around and format dissertations.  For free.  Or maybe graduate schools should come up with a formatting guide that is less than 16 pages.  I'm just saying.

Then I went to copy the dissertation and I got the world's slowest copy machine.  It took 11 minutes per copy.....again, what happened to natural selection?!  And the stupid kinkos people just looked at me like I was crazy.  Uh, maybe you should invest in efficient machines?!  Therefore, I will boycott kinkos of Denton and I encourage you all to join me.  I hate them now.

Now I'm home and nothing good is on TV.  Again, annoying.  Why do we have 500 channels and nothing to watch?  How is that even possible?  And I'd read a book, but I've somehow managed to read three complete books in the last three days and I have that summertime headache you get when your brain realizes you're reading for fun and makes you read super fast and your eyes start spinning and looking like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory treats.  Soon it will pass, but I'm thinking my summertime brain needs to ease into the book a day thing.

So, ladies and gents, vote for me!  Queen of the world!

Hello. My names is Dr. Jessica. You can call me DOCTOR!

It's official I passed!  And I don't even have the 40 million revisions I thought I would.  In fact one committee member didn't actually request any revisions but just gave me some suggestions in case I wanted to move forward with working the dissertation into a book.  I know, I'm awesome.  And really, the other revisions weren't that bad at all.....I can even finish everything before I leave for Italy in two weeks.  

My mother accused me of being "histrionic" the last few days.  Obviously that's not true at all.  If you know me, you know I'm the epitome of cool, calm, and collected.  I don't freak out over anything.  Or maybe I do, but I think this situation warranted a bit of emotion.  Besides, if I'd gone into it thinking I was fine, I probably wouldn't have passed, right?  

I will say though, that the three hours I spent plastering post-it notes all over my dissertation, books, and ntotes to tag every picture and line and quote and sentence that I wanted to highlight might have been a bit much.  (Not to mention hysterical when professor Cervigni handed me his corrections and there were post-its sticking out from every angle.  I thought I just sort of developed that habit, but it turns out I inherited it from him!  I also realized that many of my books are held closed with rubber bands because I've either broken the binding or there are too many post-its to close the book.  That comes from him too!  I'm not sure how he would feel about that but I think he would think it was funny.)  

I didn't even open the Macchiaioli picture book or the primary text at all.  That was a little disappointing but more relieving than anything I think.  I sort of felt bad after, since I had to sweet talk the art librarian into letting me check out a non-circulating/library use only book and then never even used it, but oh well.

So now I can take my first deep breath in about three years and can finally sit and do nothing without feeling guilty or lazy or that annoying little voice in the back of my head saying "Finish your dissertation, finish your dissertation, finish your dissertation!"  And exhale.

A dissertation defense is worse than childbirth

No.....it's not extreme or a dramatic statement.  It's the truth and here's why.

1.  Everyone else is excited except the person who has to do it......but there's not epidural for a dissertation defense!

2.  When you get into trouble, there's always the risk of death, but none of the world's foremost obstetricians are on hand to save the poor PhD student.

3.  While scheduling the defense is a lot like scheduling induction, there's no "oops, you failed, come back in two days and try again."  If I fail, my life is over and I will have to slit my own throat in a display of humiliation on the quad in front of Dey Hall.  And then the Pit Preacher will probably come stand over me and yell at everyone, thumping his bible, and explaining how my sins will never be absolved and obviously I was struck down as an example of the world's gravest sins.  I'm not kidding, that's seriously how that would play out.

4.  When it's over I don't get to take an adorable baby home and play with it and get lots of cute presents and visitors and people bringing food and hand me down clothes.  I get three letters, a ton of revisions, and probably a to do list of about ten things I need to finish by May 15.

5.  I think there's Post Defense Depression.....but no one really knows what to do about it.

Now, I've never actually had a baby, so perhaps I've missed a few things on the whole childbirth thing, but I don't think so.  I'm pretty sure that's how it goes and that my Tuesday defense will be worse that childbirth.  So, please forward all of your positive energy to me in Chapel Hill on Tuesday May 3 at 1pm.  Lord knows I'll need it!

Top 5 most underrated films of my generation

1.  Mannequin - My favorite scene is the one where they're trying on all the different outfits.  My favorites are the piano playing tux and the eighties hair band getup in the stock elevator.

2.  Flashdance - Can we really fault Jennifer Beal for not doing any of her own dancing?  I think not.  I watched this movie so much as a kid that my father mysteriously disposed of the tape so I'd have to find a new movie to obsess about.

3.  The Emperor's New Groove - David Spade, John Goodman, Wendy Malick.  Need I say more?

4.  The Cutting Edge - It's awesome.  That's all.

5.  Daddy Day Care - If you don't like it I think it means you're unamerican.

Some days are super off days in teaching.

And today was one of them.  In my morning classes I was administering a writing workshop and had two separate incidents, both ridiculous.

Incident one included several students walking in up to fifteen minutes late and then being peeved when I cut them off at the same time as the rest of the class.  One student argued parking.  Not my problem.  There are about half as many parking spots as there are people that need them and I always manage to get to class on time to please do me the same courtesy.  The other incident included a student who flat out lied to my face.  I'm not sure if he thinks I'm stupid or that he's more convincing than he actually is.  In any case, don't lie to me.  I almost always know when you are and just because I don't always call you on it doesn't mean I don't see it.  Sometimes I just don't have the energy to point it out to you.

Then in my afternoon class, there was just a whole lot of obviousness that people were not prepared for class.  I actually stopped the class for about twenty minutes, made them leave my room and read.  I know it's the end of the semester and people have a lot going on, but come on.....is it possible that everyone read some things but magically everyone didn't read the same thing?  Don't think I'm so out of touch with reality to think that everyone reads everything I assign before coming to class.  I know that never happens, but it's never happened that every single person neglected to prepare.  With only one week to go, there's a lot of ground to make up next week.

I am going to blame it all on the weather.  Yesterday was 92 with a hail storm in the afternoon and today is cloudy and a high of 66.  So, dearest weather gods, could you please bring back the sun so my students will find their motivation, stop lying to me, and prepare for class.  Thank you.

A hitchhiker's guide to college

Always bring a towel.  Well, maybe not, but here are some things that you should bring with you.

1.  At least $10 in quarters.
2.  The knowledge that at least one person is going to tell you you're wrong about something when it's very clear to you that you're absolutely right.
3.  The knowledge that that thing you were so absolutely right about......well, you might have been wrong.
4.  The fat highlighters.  The skinny ones lose all of their ink in about a day and a half, the fat ones last forever!  (And if you highlight in orange or green and try to photocopy those lines will appear black - this is why the default highlighter color is yellow - it disappears on a photocopy!)
5.  A cup - it's amazing how many times you'll will you had a cup that you know is clean.
6.  The knowledge that your oh so sly texting is not going unnoticed by your instructors.  They're either ignoring it or taking a mental note and docking your participation grade with a mischievous grin.
7.  The knowledge that wherever you sit, if you're falling asleep (especially if your head is lolling from side to side) you're instructor does notice.  Again, maybe you didn't get called out, but we always notice.
8.  The knowledge that reading extremely dense texts in bed is never a good plan.
9.  Flip flops that can get wet.  Anyone experienced co-ed bathrooms yet?
10.  The realization that everything will take longer than you plan for.  It's annoying, but oh so true.

Who's impressed with my ability to procrastinate?  I will now return to editing my dissertation.