This morning we had a faculty meeting at 8:15 am. I also, having lost my grasp on good time management skills, had to stop at the library to pick up a book for an article that was due yesterday. So, I went to 7-11 to get some coffee and they were out - yes, you heard right, 7-11 was out of coffee. And instead of making more, the creepy Indian guy just stared at me as I held up the empty pot and raised my eyebrows at him.
As I got on the road again, I realized that I was driving toward a VERY dark grey cloud. The radio said that there was a 60% chance of showers with clouds clearing by midmorning and a sunny afternoon. Well, being from Seattle, I always have an umbrella, so I figured "eh, whatever." As I drove the two miles from stupid 7-11 to the library 30 minute parking, I the clouds came and blocked out what little sunlight was streaming through the clouds at 7:30am.
As I went in the library and got my book, the self-checkout wasn't working and gave me a message to see the attendant at the desk. He didn't speak English well and seemed annoyed that the self checkout wouldn't work. He finally grunted through checking out my books and then said, "Usually there are student workers at the circulation desk. It's too early. Usually we don't check out students at the help desk." Big whoop, dude. It's 7:30 and no one is around. And I'm not a student so check yoself!
Ok, so I come out and it's raining. Fine, I use my umbrella, and on the 100 meter walk from the library to the car it started sideways raining, my favorite kind of stupid, annoying rain. By the time I got to the other side of campus, it was raining even harder and the longer I waited the worse it got, so I finally just made a run for it. When I finally got in, my pants were literally dripping wet, my shoes were soupy, and I was cold for hours since my pants took forever to dry.
I have to say that being from the PNW I'm used to rain, but to clear up any confusion, Seattle rain is like a baby kitty drooling on your shoulders. Not enough to warrant an umbrella but too much not to at least cover your head. Sure it does that most of the winter, but these Texas morning thunderstorms are brutal. I don't like it. And of course, as soon as I got in, the clouds passed. Stupid sideways rain, I hate you.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Mammona
In Italian, the term mammone translates to mamma's boy. In fact, they even made a reality show this summer called Mammoni: Chi vuole sposare mio figlio? in which five or six mamma's boy (one of them a gay dancer I think . . . or was he a model?) meet (always accompanied by their mothers) a series of eligible bachelorettes. In the finale they were supposed to either propose or break up, but I never saw it, so I assume they're all still living at home.
I may do my own laundry and live alone (with my loving grey kitty) but I think I would qualify as a mammona seeing as the first person I can in any instance - from flat tires to ingrown toe nails - is my mother. Here are just a few things my mom is great at:
1. Talking me down. I'm not sure how many obscenities I was spewing this morning after some lady rear ended my two day old car (that's right, its' broken in now), but I'm sure glad my mom picked up her phone so only a few of them made it to the other driver.
2. She makes me pancakes and eggs benedict and knows how to make the eggs taste good without running all over the good part.
3. She still thinks she's not biased when it comes to her children - even though she very much is sometimes.
4. She sends me pictures of cats whenever I ask for them.
5. She's tried to learn Italian just because it's what I study. Yesterday she got a compliment from a win bar on her pronunciation. Go mom.
There are many more things, but the list would go on for too long if I did them all. So, I'll finish with: she makes me funfetti cupcakes for my birthday every year and doesn't even make fun of the fact that I'm 30 and still want mom-made cupcakes with sprinkles on the frosting.
I may do my own laundry and live alone (with my loving grey kitty) but I think I would qualify as a mammona seeing as the first person I can in any instance - from flat tires to ingrown toe nails - is my mother. Here are just a few things my mom is great at:
1. Talking me down. I'm not sure how many obscenities I was spewing this morning after some lady rear ended my two day old car (that's right, its' broken in now), but I'm sure glad my mom picked up her phone so only a few of them made it to the other driver.
2. She makes me pancakes and eggs benedict and knows how to make the eggs taste good without running all over the good part.
3. She still thinks she's not biased when it comes to her children - even though she very much is sometimes.
4. She sends me pictures of cats whenever I ask for them.
5. She's tried to learn Italian just because it's what I study. Yesterday she got a compliment from a win bar on her pronunciation. Go mom.
There are many more things, but the list would go on for too long if I did them all. So, I'll finish with: she makes me funfetti cupcakes for my birthday every year and doesn't even make fun of the fact that I'm 30 and still want mom-made cupcakes with sprinkles on the frosting.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Childhood memories
My mother will attest that when I was younger I used to remember EVERYTHING. She would always be amazed and tell me, "When you get older and you brain gets fuller, this won't happen as much." Well, of course she was right. I can't remember why I get up from my desk and walk into my bedroom to get......something. I can't remember why there's a sticky note on my wallet that says "purple," and I certainly can't remember half the things she claims to tell me. It's quite possible that she suffers from the same condition, but she's adamant that she tells me things and I just forget them.
Anyway, the other day I somehow started thinking about childhood friends and found my best friend from age I can't remember to about I can't remember on facebook. Sasha. I don't remember meeting Sasha and I don't really remember falling out of touch with Sasha, but I do remember being attached at the hip, ankle, and wrist to her. We were a pesky little duo (with a younger sidekick in her sister Hava) that wreaked havoc on poor Sasha's mom Gina and tried to "stay up all the way to midnight" every time we had sleepovers (which I think was just about every single night in the summer time). We never made it. I think our parents put us to bed at 7:30 because midnight was always a REALLY long time away.
Like I said, I can't remember a lot of specifics (I'm going to hope that it's because my brain is full of important information and it's been probably 23 years since our last sleepover) but here are the things I do remember about her:
1. Sasha taught me how to drink out a cup backwards to get rid of the hiccups. She could do it without spilling it down the front of her. I could not. She ALWAYS gave me the hiccups.
2. Sasha loved cream cheese. In the morning she'd take a half a bagel and spread about two inches thick of cream cheese on it.....I think this is the root of my hatred for those tiny little cream cheese tubs they give you at a bagel place. There's never enough.
3. Sasha turned the swing set in her backyard into a spaceship. She knew her way around that thing like the back of her hand. I was always walking out a window or into a wall. Now that I think back it was probably something similar to the Star Trek Enterprise. That girl had the best imagination you've ever seen.
4. When we laughed really hard she'd fall over. I, on the other hand, couldn't breath and would start to drool awkwardly down the front of my shirt. Add that to the water down the front of my shirt from aforementioned hiccups rememdy and I always looked like a mess around her. Thank goodness we were too young to judge.
5. Sasha loved pizza. We used to go to Pizza and Pipes a lot (or maybe only twice, I can't remember) but she didn't like the strings that form when you pull hot cheese pizza apart. And Hava was afraid of the giant characters (I think they might have been Disney characters, but again, it's all very fuzzy). It was always an adventure at Pizza and Pipes. It's since burned down, been rebuilt as a Ruby Tuesday, went out of business, and now probably has some squatters living inside.
6. Sasha, Hava, and I used to share a bed on our sleepovers. It was so fun. I don't even know how big that bed was or how big we were. All I know is that we used to try and stay up until midnight and then the next thing I knew, we'd wake up a mess of arms and legs and twisted nightshirts in the morning, looking forward to bagels and cream cheese. We probably looked like a litter of kittens when we slept.
Funny the things you remember about people. So glad we've finally reconnected on facebook.
Anyway, the other day I somehow started thinking about childhood friends and found my best friend from age I can't remember to about I can't remember on facebook. Sasha. I don't remember meeting Sasha and I don't really remember falling out of touch with Sasha, but I do remember being attached at the hip, ankle, and wrist to her. We were a pesky little duo (with a younger sidekick in her sister Hava) that wreaked havoc on poor Sasha's mom Gina and tried to "stay up all the way to midnight" every time we had sleepovers (which I think was just about every single night in the summer time). We never made it. I think our parents put us to bed at 7:30 because midnight was always a REALLY long time away.
Like I said, I can't remember a lot of specifics (I'm going to hope that it's because my brain is full of important information and it's been probably 23 years since our last sleepover) but here are the things I do remember about her:
1. Sasha taught me how to drink out a cup backwards to get rid of the hiccups. She could do it without spilling it down the front of her. I could not. She ALWAYS gave me the hiccups.
2. Sasha loved cream cheese. In the morning she'd take a half a bagel and spread about two inches thick of cream cheese on it.....I think this is the root of my hatred for those tiny little cream cheese tubs they give you at a bagel place. There's never enough.
3. Sasha turned the swing set in her backyard into a spaceship. She knew her way around that thing like the back of her hand. I was always walking out a window or into a wall. Now that I think back it was probably something similar to the Star Trek Enterprise. That girl had the best imagination you've ever seen.
4. When we laughed really hard she'd fall over. I, on the other hand, couldn't breath and would start to drool awkwardly down the front of my shirt. Add that to the water down the front of my shirt from aforementioned hiccups rememdy and I always looked like a mess around her. Thank goodness we were too young to judge.
5. Sasha loved pizza. We used to go to Pizza and Pipes a lot (or maybe only twice, I can't remember) but she didn't like the strings that form when you pull hot cheese pizza apart. And Hava was afraid of the giant characters (I think they might have been Disney characters, but again, it's all very fuzzy). It was always an adventure at Pizza and Pipes. It's since burned down, been rebuilt as a Ruby Tuesday, went out of business, and now probably has some squatters living inside.
6. Sasha, Hava, and I used to share a bed on our sleepovers. It was so fun. I don't even know how big that bed was or how big we were. All I know is that we used to try and stay up until midnight and then the next thing I knew, we'd wake up a mess of arms and legs and twisted nightshirts in the morning, looking forward to bagels and cream cheese. We probably looked like a litter of kittens when we slept.
Funny the things you remember about people. So glad we've finally reconnected on facebook.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Etiquette
I may not be Emily Post and I may not be a Real Housewife of NYC, but I do know a few things about office etiquette.
1. If you call a meeting for 3:30, do not start the meeting at 3:20 so that when I walk in at 3:28 I've already missed the beginning of the meeting.
2. If you walk by my office and see that I'm hard at work, with headphones in my ears, and you check the schedule conveniently posted on my door, seeing that I'm not currently holding office hours, please do not barge in, sit down, and start asking questions - the answer to which can all be found on your syllabus.
3. If you are a former student and you email me for guidance. If I don't back to you immediately there's no need to call me and ask the same questions. If the answer to your questions were easy I'd have answered you immediately. Chances are you asked unanswerable questions or you asked questions that are so broad there's no way for me to answer them succinctly.
4. Do not mistake my silence for misunderstanding. Chances are I'm trying to hold back a string of unpleasant language I want to spew at you.
5. While I may work all the time, I'm not in a constant state of office hours. I have a windowless cave of an office....therefore I leave my door open so I can avoid claustrophobia. That is not an invitation for you to come in and start a stream of thought conversation about last week's class. If you want to talk, make an appointment. Otherwise, move along.
1. If you call a meeting for 3:30, do not start the meeting at 3:20 so that when I walk in at 3:28 I've already missed the beginning of the meeting.
2. If you walk by my office and see that I'm hard at work, with headphones in my ears, and you check the schedule conveniently posted on my door, seeing that I'm not currently holding office hours, please do not barge in, sit down, and start asking questions - the answer to which can all be found on your syllabus.
3. If you are a former student and you email me for guidance. If I don't back to you immediately there's no need to call me and ask the same questions. If the answer to your questions were easy I'd have answered you immediately. Chances are you asked unanswerable questions or you asked questions that are so broad there's no way for me to answer them succinctly.
4. Do not mistake my silence for misunderstanding. Chances are I'm trying to hold back a string of unpleasant language I want to spew at you.
5. While I may work all the time, I'm not in a constant state of office hours. I have a windowless cave of an office....therefore I leave my door open so I can avoid claustrophobia. That is not an invitation for you to come in and start a stream of thought conversation about last week's class. If you want to talk, make an appointment. Otherwise, move along.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
On skinny jeans
I was really hoping that skinny jeans and leggings would be working their way out of Fall fashion this year, but alas, I'm left disappointed. It looks as if skinny jeans and leggings, paired with riding boots, oversized shirts, and bulky scarves are as prominent as ever in the Fall fashion forecasts. I must admit that I do own a pair of skinny jeans but I'm just not a fan of them. I don't think they look that great on the normal sized girl, I don't like them without boots over them, and I think reinforce this whole skinny is beautiful battle we've been fighting forever. Leggings are a whole other thing - I think leggings should be outlawed for anyone over age twelve, and to top it all off, there are way too many people who mistake tights for leggings and walk around in see through bottoms. Not cute. So I will continue to wear my normal pants and hope that they eventually come back into fashion. *Sigh*
Friday, September 14, 2012
My thoughts on Spanish
It's been three weeks of Spanish class and although I like it, there's definitely no chance that I picked the wrong language - Italian is just better (sorry Spanish speakers). However, there are some things I've discovered this week.
1. Spanish feels like a "lazy" language. It's not a bad thing of course, but it feels like a beach language. Now, you must keep in mind that this is coming from someone who spends months on end in Southern Italy and Sicily, but I feel like I should be reclined on a beach chair with a cocktail in my hand when I speak Spanish a la the Corona ads on TV.
2. Spanish is like Italian light. Yes the rules are the same, but there's less of everything (easier for most people harder for me). Why are there only four definite articles? Why don't you combine prepositions with definite articles? Why aren't there changes in prepositions when used with definite articles? Why are there only two forms of the partitive article? Weird.
3. Italian is all about learning the 1000 rules and the 100,000 exceptions to those rules to pronunciation. Spanish just throws an accent in and you never have to really memorize any rules.
4. If you don't pronounce a 'v' like a 'v' why do you have 'v'?! If it sounds like 'b', then just use the 'b'. Annoying.
5. Spanish sounds twangy to me. I don't like all those 'q's and 'n's with tildas. I feel like I have some weird midwestern accent.
6. My teacher is teaching Mexican Spanish. She often includes information on how one might use the grammar in Central and South America. Well....I want to get the hang of Spain Spanish.....but if we use the particulars to Spain we get marked wrong on our work. I don't like that.
So the moral of the story is that everyone should learn to speak Italian. It's just better all the way around - and that's coming from someone who's not biased at all.
1. Spanish feels like a "lazy" language. It's not a bad thing of course, but it feels like a beach language. Now, you must keep in mind that this is coming from someone who spends months on end in Southern Italy and Sicily, but I feel like I should be reclined on a beach chair with a cocktail in my hand when I speak Spanish a la the Corona ads on TV.
2. Spanish is like Italian light. Yes the rules are the same, but there's less of everything (easier for most people harder for me). Why are there only four definite articles? Why don't you combine prepositions with definite articles? Why aren't there changes in prepositions when used with definite articles? Why are there only two forms of the partitive article? Weird.
3. Italian is all about learning the 1000 rules and the 100,000 exceptions to those rules to pronunciation. Spanish just throws an accent in and you never have to really memorize any rules.
4. If you don't pronounce a 'v' like a 'v' why do you have 'v'?! If it sounds like 'b', then just use the 'b'. Annoying.
5. Spanish sounds twangy to me. I don't like all those 'q's and 'n's with tildas. I feel like I have some weird midwestern accent.
6. My teacher is teaching Mexican Spanish. She often includes information on how one might use the grammar in Central and South America. Well....I want to get the hang of Spain Spanish.....but if we use the particulars to Spain we get marked wrong on our work. I don't like that.
So the moral of the story is that everyone should learn to speak Italian. It's just better all the way around - and that's coming from someone who's not biased at all.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Lava Girl
This summer in Italy I had a fabulous TA with me. We made all sorts of wonderful discoveries together - like the terminal velocity of a baby, that Poppy homemade popcorn is heaven in a bowl, and that my affinity for languages stops just short of understanding Japanese. We also devised superhero personas for ourselves (actually Vincenzo did and I just supported him by feeding him pasta and asking to watch movies on his laptop), but I'm very happy with mine: LAVA GIRL!!!!!
I'm not really sure about the whole superhero thing - I've just recently started to get on the superhero bandwagon and to be honest I'm just sort of lukewarm about it (haha, pun intended) but here are my thoughts. Lava girl is a tall fire-haired superheroine who wears only the best clothing and very fashionable boots. I assume she wears red outfits and can ignite a fire by giving the death glare to anyone in her path. Therefore, should someone forget that class starts on the hour rather than fifteen minutes later, she can burn their desk before they get to it so they're forced to stand awkwardly in the corner and take notes while trying to balance their notebook on their hand. She can also affect the weather in her personal bubble so she never has to suffer through another winter or be frozen to death by the ridiculous Texas over-airconditioning - it's alway a lovely 81 degrees in a two foot bubble around her.
That's as far as I've gotten. I feel like she should probably have more superpowers, but like I said, I'm just learning about the superhero movement so her mythology and all that will have to wait until I can come up with something good. Any suggestions?
P.S. Anyone who wants to draw lava girl in a nice PG version and sell a comic book about her (giving me a cut, of course) is encouraged to contact me at your earliest convenience.
I'm not really sure about the whole superhero thing - I've just recently started to get on the superhero bandwagon and to be honest I'm just sort of lukewarm about it (haha, pun intended) but here are my thoughts. Lava girl is a tall fire-haired superheroine who wears only the best clothing and very fashionable boots. I assume she wears red outfits and can ignite a fire by giving the death glare to anyone in her path. Therefore, should someone forget that class starts on the hour rather than fifteen minutes later, she can burn their desk before they get to it so they're forced to stand awkwardly in the corner and take notes while trying to balance their notebook on their hand. She can also affect the weather in her personal bubble so she never has to suffer through another winter or be frozen to death by the ridiculous Texas over-airconditioning - it's alway a lovely 81 degrees in a two foot bubble around her.
That's as far as I've gotten. I feel like she should probably have more superpowers, but like I said, I'm just learning about the superhero movement so her mythology and all that will have to wait until I can come up with something good. Any suggestions?
P.S. Anyone who wants to draw lava girl in a nice PG version and sell a comic book about her (giving me a cut, of course) is encouraged to contact me at your earliest convenience.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Back in the classroom
Today was another first day of class . . . and my first day of class. Spanish class! It's been a while since I was a student in a classroom, so I was pretty excited. It's always a little nerve wracking going into the first day of a language class (and even more nerve wracking when you walk in and then greet the teacher in Italian - whoopsie) but when you're out of the student rhythm it's even more crazy. Granted I only learned a few phrases here are my observations of the day:
1. The students are right, the desks suck. They're not big enough, they're too close together, and they make a terrible noise when you try to move them around.
2. I'm pretty sure everyone but me was dressed in either their pjs or their gym clothes. Nothing like sticking out even more when you walk in in heels and a suit.
3. Powerpoint puts me to sleep....even when there are great pictures and important information. Even though what I was supposed to be reading was on the powerpoint, I found my eyes wandering. I think it's an emotional reaction to the worst science class I ever took in college.
4. Spanish is weird. Where did they get the idea for upside down punctuation?
5. The Spanish accent sounds garbled to me. Apparently my crisp, clean (and not even very crisp or clean seeing as I have a southern accent) is doing me no favors.
So tonight I shall try to memorize those weird looking phrases that I learned today and teach myself how to tell time. I can't very well let the pajama-wearing- twelve-year-old show me up, now can I?
1. The students are right, the desks suck. They're not big enough, they're too close together, and they make a terrible noise when you try to move them around.
2. I'm pretty sure everyone but me was dressed in either their pjs or their gym clothes. Nothing like sticking out even more when you walk in in heels and a suit.
3. Powerpoint puts me to sleep....even when there are great pictures and important information. Even though what I was supposed to be reading was on the powerpoint, I found my eyes wandering. I think it's an emotional reaction to the worst science class I ever took in college.
4. Spanish is weird. Where did they get the idea for upside down punctuation?
5. The Spanish accent sounds garbled to me. Apparently my crisp, clean (and not even very crisp or clean seeing as I have a southern accent) is doing me no favors.
So tonight I shall try to memorize those weird looking phrases that I learned today and teach myself how to tell time. I can't very well let the pajama-wearing- twelve-year-old show me up, now can I?
Monday, August 27, 2012
You know school is about to start when....
This is the week that it all begins again. The public school kids started back today (I almost got hit by a big a** school bus who crossed three lanes of traffic with no signal and no looking - and as a former bus driver myself I find that horrific) and the college kids start on Wednesday. This past weekend was freshman move in weekend (u-hauls were parked on every spare curb on campus and every student parking lots has cars double and triple parked) and the seniors are starting to enforce their senior-ness. But for me, I always know school is about to start when these things happen (and they always happen).
1. I run into students in the coffee shop. I'm up early and they're just ending their night last night.
2. I run into students in the gym - you know, when I look my best.
3. My inbox is full of emails asking if the books in the bookstore "are really necessary." Um.....yes.
4. My blackboard sites, MyItalianLab, and Supersite platforms are malfunctioning and I can't get ahold of anyone to help me fix it.
5. Deadlines for my article, book, promotion packet, and syllabi are all coming up within five minutes of each other.
And so it begins. Freshmen are wandering scared around campus while sophomores are trying to shrug their parents away and seniors are trying to figure out how to demonstrate their senior-ness. Ahh, yes....the dance begins.
1. I run into students in the coffee shop. I'm up early and they're just ending their night last night.
2. I run into students in the gym - you know, when I look my best.
3. My inbox is full of emails asking if the books in the bookstore "are really necessary." Um.....yes.
4. My blackboard sites, MyItalianLab, and Supersite platforms are malfunctioning and I can't get ahold of anyone to help me fix it.
5. Deadlines for my article, book, promotion packet, and syllabi are all coming up within five minutes of each other.
And so it begins. Freshmen are wandering scared around campus while sophomores are trying to shrug their parents away and seniors are trying to figure out how to demonstrate their senior-ness. Ahh, yes....the dance begins.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Pay it forward
My apartment is quite unique in it's trash collection. You know you live in a city's premier apartment community when they provide valet trash service. Yup, that's right. You leave your trash at the curb and it magically disappears for you. BUT they only pick it up on MWF before 9am. So on Sunday night I left a bag of trash outside of my door to be taken downstairs when I left for work Monday morning. When I emerged this morning someone nice had already taken it down for me! And it was filled with glass jars, a watermelon, three year old TV dinners that were blocks of melted ice . . . in other words it was not the world's nicest bag of trash. I assume its' the people across the hall from me (the ones that slam their door so hard that they rattle the pictures on my walls every time they enter and exit their apartment) but now I have to figure out how to pay it forward. Ideas?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Just because YOU don't work hard doesn't mean I DON'T!
I have a friend who loves to throw little jabs at the glamorous life of a college instructor. He loves to tell me how cushy my life is, how few hours I have to work, how I get my summers off, how flexible my schedule is. Let's get a few things straight:
1. My job is not glamorous and I challenge you to find one hard-working lecturer who will tell you that it is. Perhaps you're not familiar with the hierarchy in academia, but I haven't yet worked my way into a professorship, not to mention a tenure track professorship. I teach 4 classes each semester, two classes over the summer, and a handful of independent studies for which there is no compensation. I chair two committees, again for which there is no compensation other than knowing I'm doing a good thing, and coordinate the other Italian instructors. My office has no windows, always smells a little funny, and has such terrible fluorescent lighting I had to invest in standing lamps so I could avoid the daily migraines. yup, super glamorous!
2. Ok, yes, perhaps I do only officially teach 13 hours per week. But the planning, grading, grading, grading, grading, planning, grading definitely puts me way up over 40 hours each week. I'm in the office 6 days a week and I take my work home with me every night.
3. I don't get summers off. I'm either leading a study abroad, which is WAY more work than you can imagine. Try teaching six credits in five weeks while acting as mommy, counselor, taxi driver, tour guide, and academic counselor to 30 students. It's a workout!
As for flexibility, yes I do have more flexibility than most and for that I'm thankful. But listen, I work hard, and while it was funny for a while, the joke has run its course. I like my job and it is hard work, but having to defend it constantly is exhausting, so please understand when I start ignoring your jabs. Please and thank you.
1. My job is not glamorous and I challenge you to find one hard-working lecturer who will tell you that it is. Perhaps you're not familiar with the hierarchy in academia, but I haven't yet worked my way into a professorship, not to mention a tenure track professorship. I teach 4 classes each semester, two classes over the summer, and a handful of independent studies for which there is no compensation. I chair two committees, again for which there is no compensation other than knowing I'm doing a good thing, and coordinate the other Italian instructors. My office has no windows, always smells a little funny, and has such terrible fluorescent lighting I had to invest in standing lamps so I could avoid the daily migraines. yup, super glamorous!
2. Ok, yes, perhaps I do only officially teach 13 hours per week. But the planning, grading, grading, grading, grading, planning, grading definitely puts me way up over 40 hours each week. I'm in the office 6 days a week and I take my work home with me every night.
3. I don't get summers off. I'm either leading a study abroad, which is WAY more work than you can imagine. Try teaching six credits in five weeks while acting as mommy, counselor, taxi driver, tour guide, and academic counselor to 30 students. It's a workout!
As for flexibility, yes I do have more flexibility than most and for that I'm thankful. But listen, I work hard, and while it was funny for a while, the joke has run its course. I like my job and it is hard work, but having to defend it constantly is exhausting, so please understand when I start ignoring your jabs. Please and thank you.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Roll over and die? No thank you, not today.
Today was another reminder that there's a grand chance that I may not make it in academia. I realize that there are hierarchies and untouchables and ultra secret magical powers that I'm supposed to pretend don't exist . . . and it all just makes me think that I may have gotten lost in a world where I don't belong. Here's why:
1. Why are things like discrimination based on race or gender illegal, but discrimination based on other elements (even when blatant) can sometimes be strategically overlooked?
2. I know I'm not a professor yet and I know I don't have tenure, but that doesn't mean I walk around with my eyes closed. If I see something that's unfair, even if it doesn't have to do with me, I'm not going to stand for it. Isn't that what responsible, caring people do? Isn't part of collegiality looking out for each other?
3. When did the word "service" become an obscenity? Am I not providing the world a service by educating its young people? Am I not helping others to expand their horizons and the opportunity to explore new cultures? So why is the service I provide less valuable than the same service provided by someone who teaches a different discipline? It's not, but how do I prove that?
4. Respecting your elders and standing up for what is right can be mutually exclusive. Just because someone has been around for a long time doesn't mean that you shouldn't discuss decisions that you feel are unfair or made in error. Everything is negotiable, is it not?
5. I don't roll over and die in anything that I do. Why do you think I'd do it for the one thing I'm most passionate about?
Comments? Advice from my more worldly, seasoned, and experienced friends and colleagues? All thoughts are welcome!
1. Why are things like discrimination based on race or gender illegal, but discrimination based on other elements (even when blatant) can sometimes be strategically overlooked?
2. I know I'm not a professor yet and I know I don't have tenure, but that doesn't mean I walk around with my eyes closed. If I see something that's unfair, even if it doesn't have to do with me, I'm not going to stand for it. Isn't that what responsible, caring people do? Isn't part of collegiality looking out for each other?
3. When did the word "service" become an obscenity? Am I not providing the world a service by educating its young people? Am I not helping others to expand their horizons and the opportunity to explore new cultures? So why is the service I provide less valuable than the same service provided by someone who teaches a different discipline? It's not, but how do I prove that?
4. Respecting your elders and standing up for what is right can be mutually exclusive. Just because someone has been around for a long time doesn't mean that you shouldn't discuss decisions that you feel are unfair or made in error. Everything is negotiable, is it not?
5. I don't roll over and die in anything that I do. Why do you think I'd do it for the one thing I'm most passionate about?
Comments? Advice from my more worldly, seasoned, and experienced friends and colleagues? All thoughts are welcome!
Monday, January 30, 2012
My thoughts on the Bachelor
I have recently been sucked into yet another brain-draining reality show: the Bachelor. I don't think I've ever watched a full season before, but I did watch way back when Trista and Ryan got together (is that dating me or what?!). But . . . the other day I came across this show on ABC.com and thought, what the heck?! Well, I watched the first four episodes in one day. One day! I know, I probably killed a few thousand brain cells in one sitting. It's a horrific show, I'm not sure what the actual time frame is, but it's just ridiculous. Yet, I have quite a few questions on how this all works.
1. In the first episode, I'm assuming that only two or three days were filmed. So how are these stupid girls saying that they've "fallen" for him after 5 minutes? And how can you really know that when you're just hoping the other 25 girls around you won't "fall" harder than you?
2. Why isn't there a stylist to tell the bachelor that he needs a haircut? Or even to just wash it . . . it's a little bit greasy looking. Blech.
3. Why doesn't it dawn on any of them that by kissing this stupid guy that has kissed their 25 roommates, they're all making out with each other? What if one of them gets mono? Gross!
4. Why does he always go for the crazy one? Seriously, I know he doesn't see what happens when he's not there . . . but does he sign some kind of contract that he'll keep the crazy one around for 80% of the episodes or something?
5. How do these girls pack for this show? They are wearing evening gowns every night and cocktail dresses every day. How many bags are they bringing? Who's doing their laundry? Are they shopping while they're there? What's the wardrobe situation?
6. Group dates. What?
What a ridiculous show . . . I wish I could stop watching but I just have to see if he keeps the crazy girl around. Plus, she's got even crazier eyebrows, and I want to see if any one else notices but me.
1. In the first episode, I'm assuming that only two or three days were filmed. So how are these stupid girls saying that they've "fallen" for him after 5 minutes? And how can you really know that when you're just hoping the other 25 girls around you won't "fall" harder than you?
2. Why isn't there a stylist to tell the bachelor that he needs a haircut? Or even to just wash it . . . it's a little bit greasy looking. Blech.
3. Why doesn't it dawn on any of them that by kissing this stupid guy that has kissed their 25 roommates, they're all making out with each other? What if one of them gets mono? Gross!
4. Why does he always go for the crazy one? Seriously, I know he doesn't see what happens when he's not there . . . but does he sign some kind of contract that he'll keep the crazy one around for 80% of the episodes or something?
5. How do these girls pack for this show? They are wearing evening gowns every night and cocktail dresses every day. How many bags are they bringing? Who's doing their laundry? Are they shopping while they're there? What's the wardrobe situation?
6. Group dates. What?
What a ridiculous show . . . I wish I could stop watching but I just have to see if he keeps the crazy girl around. Plus, she's got even crazier eyebrows, and I want to see if any one else notices but me.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Highly Effective Teaching
The fall evaluations came out recently and yours truly has received rankings in the highest bracket in all of my classes for another semester. It's funny too because it was the same day a student actually said the following to me: "I showed up to class and when I realized your teaching schedule had changed, I was like, 'Man, this teacher is super nice, but I need Professoressa Jessica back.'" Well, it's true, I'm not the nicest teacher in the world . . . but apparently I'm effective, so whatever!
In honor of a request from the lovely and talented Ms. Cari, here are my top ten effective teaching techniques. Hopefully I'm not giving away my secret weapons!
1. I never reuse lesson plans year to year or even class to class. Yes it's more work, but each class has its own personality and a "standard" lesson plan will not work. I've also never taught the "perfect" class and until I do, I'll never reteach from the previous years' daily plans.
2. I plan each lesson three times. Yes it's overkill, I am very aware, but it works. Once on the weekend with a weekly goal and a skeleton daily plan. Once on the day before the lesson with a specific list of activities, exercises, etc. And finally, the morning of the lesson adjusting for time, review, and questions from the previous lesson.
3. The weather will affect your teaching. Take today for example: the flood arrived in Texas. That means about 5% of the class will not show, 50% will be depressed, and the other 50% will brood disruptively about their wet socks. Probably not best to teach a super heavy lesson seeing as you'll probably end up reteaching the majority of it later.
4. Students only have an attention span of about 27 minutes. Plan to use the middle 27 minutes as your "meat and potatoes" if you will. If you teach a 50 minute class, the first ten minutes are the "appetizer," review and questions from the previous lesson. Then a "palette cleansing sorbet," a transition exercise that hopefully gets their heads out of last time's lesson and into the present. Now it's "entree" time and make it quick, concise, and remember, you've only got them for 27 minutes. That leaves you 8 minutes for "dessert," open-ended activities or games that will wind down your lesson and hopefully end on a good note.
5. College students are just tall elementary school students. If you don't assign them homework every night, chances are they'll leave everything to the last minute (or perhaps not do it at all). You can help them along by assigning daily work or you can gripe about their lack of time management skills later. Either way they're going to need a little help planning and managing their time.
6. You will need to embarrass yourself at some point, it's a rite of passage. I can usually be found with a big white chalk mark across the butt of my black pants, pink ink smudged on my face, dancing around like a lunatic acting something out. Have you ever made up a song about grammatical elements? I have a whole arsenal. Embarrassing? Yes. Effective? Yes.
7. Use your colleagues. They always have good ideas you haven't thought of and you probably do something great that they haven't considered before.
8. Consider your tendencies. I cradle the book like a baby even though I rarely look at it, I cannot write in a straight line on the board and I always favor the left side of the room. Therefore, I try to make an effort to spend time in all the "neighborhoods" of the class and put my book down for a nap.
9. Teaching is like comedy . . . if you can pull something funny in from the beginning of the class for your finale, you can hook 'em good.
10. Always remember that what you think is easy or common sense is not to your students. What you think is difficult may be insurmountable for them. Remember how you're feeding them a "meal" each lesson? You'll probably have to cut their meat for them; into teeny, weeny, little bite size pieces.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
MLA debriefing
Last week I went to the MLA convention in Seattle. It's been called many a different name (the shark pit, the pit of desperation, and hell for language nerds are just a few of the choice nicknames) but I enjoyed it. It's the annual national convention for all modern languages and is held in a different city each year. This year it was in Seattle (yay west coast!) and included almost 1000 sessions over 4 days, 12 official hotels, another dozen unofficial hotels, and some of the top (and perhaps bottom?) minds in languages today.
MLA is also the place where many universities hold their first round interviews. That in itself is a whole other dog and pony show. Everywhere you look you see people in their best dress (and we are language nerds, so we dress a little weird) trekking all over the city from hotel to hotel hoping for the best and trying to size up the competition while nervously chatting with other interviewees in the hotel lobbies. Interviews take place in the hotel rooms (sometimes suites, sometimes not) and there is always at least one little snafu (like the cleaning lady coming in part way through or the interviewee falling off the bed into the interviewers suitcase and simultaneously shooting aforementioned interviewer's undergarments into the air - this didn't happen to me, thank goodness). Meanwhile, all the interviews seem to start on the hour and the elevators are like a sauna as ten desperate recently "doctored up" grad students hope for the best and sweat out the worst.
Then there's the "runway." That is, the procession of your language colleagues to the different sessions across the city. In a smaller language like Italian pretty much everyone attends every session. In languages like Spanish or French, you have a better chance of missing people. If you're trying to avoid any of your former professors or fellow students, this is where you'll see them . . . actually especially if you're trying to avoid someone. It's one giant exercise in professionalism. Everyone wants to know what you're doing now, are you here for interviews (and if so, then it gets really tricky because you're probably interviewing with the same schools!), when did you finish your dissertation, what publications have you done this year, what conferences have you attended, what grants have you gotten? You are trying to measure if they're really interested or if they just want to know if they have a leg up on you for the perfect job, and try to answer diplomatically while hiding the fact that you might, perhaps, be sizing them up at the same time. It's a workout!!!
I left feeling pretty good and happy to have caught up with my grad school buddies - which probably means I "didn't do it right."
MLA is also the place where many universities hold their first round interviews. That in itself is a whole other dog and pony show. Everywhere you look you see people in their best dress (and we are language nerds, so we dress a little weird) trekking all over the city from hotel to hotel hoping for the best and trying to size up the competition while nervously chatting with other interviewees in the hotel lobbies. Interviews take place in the hotel rooms (sometimes suites, sometimes not) and there is always at least one little snafu (like the cleaning lady coming in part way through or the interviewee falling off the bed into the interviewers suitcase and simultaneously shooting aforementioned interviewer's undergarments into the air - this didn't happen to me, thank goodness). Meanwhile, all the interviews seem to start on the hour and the elevators are like a sauna as ten desperate recently "doctored up" grad students hope for the best and sweat out the worst.
Then there's the "runway." That is, the procession of your language colleagues to the different sessions across the city. In a smaller language like Italian pretty much everyone attends every session. In languages like Spanish or French, you have a better chance of missing people. If you're trying to avoid any of your former professors or fellow students, this is where you'll see them . . . actually especially if you're trying to avoid someone. It's one giant exercise in professionalism. Everyone wants to know what you're doing now, are you here for interviews (and if so, then it gets really tricky because you're probably interviewing with the same schools!), when did you finish your dissertation, what publications have you done this year, what conferences have you attended, what grants have you gotten? You are trying to measure if they're really interested or if they just want to know if they have a leg up on you for the perfect job, and try to answer diplomatically while hiding the fact that you might, perhaps, be sizing them up at the same time. It's a workout!!!
I left feeling pretty good and happy to have caught up with my grad school buddies - which probably means I "didn't do it right."
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Semester end trauma
Dear students,
We know that you're stressed because finals are upon us. But consider the following:
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!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
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
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
Saturday, November 26, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Hobby Lobby is my Vegas
Sunday, November 13, 2011
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 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)