Overeducated Twit

Nanowrimo--one-third month update

2009-11-11T07:50:00.001-06:00

By this point of Nablopomo, I started flagging (if it hadn't already begun by day 3). By this point in Nanowrimo, I'm... still at it. I honestly expected to have abandoned it by now.

Rather than have to come up with something new each night, I can build on what I've already written, tucking in a bit more description in this scene and playing with the tension in that one and finding my characters settle into more of a routine and even do new things I hadn't expected them to. Last night, they got into a squabble that I wasn't planning for them to have, but that has turned out to be something that they needed to do in order to, well, grow. And Nanowrimo truly is teaching me the wisdom of drafting--this draft sucks, and I'm OK with that because I can edit later.

It still feels pretentious as hell to call this glorified bit of scribbling (all 35 pages of it so far) a "novel," but I'm feeling a bit more comfortable with the idea that I may have a bit of writer in me yet. You see, this thing about making myself write every single night even if I'm 1000 words short of the 1666-words-per-day goal is... well, it's having unexpected effects. It's becoming as much a habit as my afternoon cup of tea.

My little head is starting to spontaneously generate new story ideas, ideas that I would love to run with and see what comes of them. And I intend to, yes, but it's not happening until the end of November--I have a bad track record of beginning a bazillion new things and abandoning the original one for six months or even indefinitely. If you want proof of it, I can show you my list of started crochet projects...

Anyway, I just wanted my audience of three to know that I've not fallen off the face of the earth--just a bit busy with other projects :).

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Now playing: M. Craft - Dragonfly
via FoxyTunes

Another landmark

2009-11-04T20:40:00.002-06:00

A former student of mine posted a Facebook status update today, saying that she had applied for graduation in May.

That means the kiddos who were new freshmen when I taught in my first semester of teaching are getting ready to graduate and head out into the world. It's kind of a funny feeling. And a daunting one.

National what month?

2009-11-02T20:44:00.000-06:00

For the last two years, I have participated in National Blog Posting Month, or NaBloPoMo. It was largely an exercise in self-flagellation as the month wore on. Oh, I think I had the right idea, trying to make myself write, but my heart didn't ever quite follow all the way.

Which begs the question--why did I do it in the first place? Because I never felt I had the time or inclination to do National Novel Writing Month. November is never a good time of year, especially in academia as I struggle to finish everything that needs finishing in the last quarter of a semester--the papers get longer, the grading gets more intense, and the accumulated stresses have, well, accumulated. November is probably, honestly, never going to be a good time to decide to write a novel...

...which is exactly why this year is as good a time as any. I've had ideas for a post-apocalyptic tale knocking about my head for a few years now. Might as well run with it a bit. If it absolutely blows, or if I lose interest, so be it. At least I tried, and hopefully, I'll get at least a few thousand words more on it than I did when I started.

So, here's to writing, and more specifically, embracing the idea of what Anne Lamott gleefully calls the "shitty first draft."

Retreat

2009-10-27T15:14:00.000-05:00

I am an introvert, and the more people inundate my life, the more I want to withdraw. Alas, when the people are work-related and blood-related, retreat is nigh on impossible. So I've got to withdraw to someplace else.

This place may not actually exist anywhere, now or at any point in the future, but I have a cabin on a mountaintop. It's small and sparse--I built it myself, see. With my own soft-palmed hands. Heck, while we're at it, I felled those logs myself. Yeah, that sounds good. The walls have bookshelves in them, and the main room has a huge fireplace in it. Between that and the piles of blankets all around, I stay bundled up. The fireplace is perfect for curling up in front of with a book and a hot cuppa. I'm not sure if I've got cats yet; it's probably a good idea lest small critters decide to take shelter with me. I stock up on supplies in the winter, and then I don't see anyone until spring thaw; oh, that's the best part.

Friends and acquaintances have asked if they can come to my mountaintop cabin. A select few have been granted visiting permission. The rest get threatened with a shotgun.

It's cold. It's lonely. It's sounding more lovely by the day.

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Now playing: Richard Shindell - Waist Deep In The Big Muddy
via FoxyTunes

Directions

2009-10-17T22:52:00.001-05:00

It's a good idea when you go to an unfamiliar place to pay attention to the signs around you so that you don't get lost. Especially if you're 500 years back in time.

How not to impress your instructor

2009-10-07T23:21:00.001-05:00

Student asking, in preparation for their 100-point test on Friday: "What if I show up hungover from the night before? 'Cause I probably will be."

My response: "Not my problem."

It would be a shame if a silly thing like a 100-point exam got in the way of college partying.

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Now playing: HIM - Wicked Game
via FoxyTunes

A riddle

2009-10-05T17:36:00.002-05:00

Q: How do you ensure your students don't get perfect scores on their easy quiz?

A: Write a difficult question like, "After you have printed out this quiz, write your name and draw a smiley face."

Frustrating.

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Now playing: Mae - Suspension
via FoxyTunes

The flowers may be dying...

2009-10-02T21:18:00.003-05:00

...but the determined hippy can still find the makings of a bouquet.

So this is how it starts...

2009-09-25T16:05:00.000-05:00

Today in class, in passing, the topic of the '80s and '80s fashion came up. It's coming back, someone mentioned.

Yes, I agreed, and as far as I'm concerned, it could go right back where it came from. One of my returning students agreed.

Another student, however, piped up, "I like that stuff. I think it's cool. I wish I'd been a kid in the '80s."

Wistful

2009-09-23T21:16:00.000-05:00

For some reason, the last couple days have inspired me to track down songs that hold nostalgic value to me. Nostalgic, in this case, dates back to high school or so.

Hush. I know I am young yet.

This particular song stuck with me at the time, and I was surprised to find how powerful the words were when I re-visited it:

'Tis the season

2009-09-22T21:47:00.000-05:00

I generally watch two places when I'm out on my beloved walking trail: the foliage and trees, and the ground. The former offers a constantly changing backdrop to the walk, depending on the season--now, the nuts and berries are showing themselves, and the Virginia creeper is turning a splendid red. And the ground is just a good place to keep an eye on whenever a person is upright, y'know?

However, since autumn is now here, I most frequently found myself keeping vigilance in another direction: up.

Let's just say my reason has something to do with a recent Traumatic Experience involving Eight-Legged Carnivores (so traumatic, indeed, that it warrants capital letters. Yeah, that bad; also, click that link at your own risk). No incidents this time, save a large buzzing insect that threatened to dive bomb into my head. I credit the lack of web ensnarement tonight to my constant vigilance.

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Now playing: Shinedown - Heroes (Album Version)
via FoxyTunes

Peaceful

2009-09-13T22:23:00.000-05:00

Grainy image quality aside, I assure you this mini waterfall was quite lovely in person. I forget how peaceful the sound of running water can be. Also from the botanical garden visit.

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Now playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution
via FoxyTunes

Oi vey.

2009-09-09T22:53:00.000-05:00

One student of mine is... quite a character.

The third day of class, she came in and looked around blankly, unsure whether she was in the right place. I asked her the name of the class she was supposed to be in; it coincided with mine. I asked if it was supposed to be at 10:00; it was. She was still unconvinced until she looked around.

"The big guy!" she said, spotting the guy she'd been sitting next to for the previous two class sessions. "I remember you!"

I should have taken it as a sign. And I did take it as a sign... of her ditziness.

What I missed was the sign of no brain-mouth filter. Bless her heart, she likes to call out answers. They are frequently wrong answers or requests for information that she would have received had she been listening to my directions, but she does have great spirit. However, she rarely stops at the answers, rambling into whatever other thoughts flit through her mind--an aside or request for confirmation from her classmate, a personal question that I don't care to answer, and other irrelevant bits of fluff.

Of course, the conference will not be a "talk less for the sake of my sanity" talk. We will discuss how as much as I appreciate her enthusiasm, it is important for other people to get a chance to talk. I expect frequent reminders will be in order though...

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Now playing: Brandi Carlile: What Can I Say
via FoxyTunes

A bouquet for your Monday

2009-09-08T08:10:00.000-05:00

From this weekend's jaunt to the botanical garden I'd driven by for five years without ever having stopped by. Suffice it to say, I shall go back.

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Now playing: Live - The Beauty of Gray
via FoxyTunes

SS: Poetry

2009-08-29T15:30:00.000-05:00

The theme at Sunday Scribblings this week is Poetry. Incidentally, Sunday Scribblings prompts tend to yield bits of silly verse from me. Here's what I got this time with an explicit assignment to write a poem:

There once was a blogger named Twit
Who fancied herself quite the wit.
When told to write a poem,
She let her mind roam,
And the result was this verse of shit.

Limericks are fun :).

There's a new one

2009-08-26T15:58:00.001-05:00

I have had increasingly less to say about teaching as time goes on, due in large part to few things striking me as particularly novel anymore. If you factor out the semester I took off, this is the start of my fourth year of teaching; with the time off accounted for, it's the latter half of my third year.

Even the more egregious student behavior seems blase after you've seen it a few times.

That said, never before yesterday have I been in the middle of the class, lecturing, no less, writing on the board, and been interrupted by a student coming into my classroom asking for directions. From me.

At first, I thought she might have been one of my students, straggling in very, very late, an hour into a 75-minute class. She looked at me expectantly, like she had a question, and granted, I do not readily recognize student faces yet, so I asked what she needed. She asked where to find a location for a room and building I did not recognize as being on the campus. I was a little surprised by the interruption of class for directions, so instead of telling her we were in the middle of class, I instead said I didn't recognize the location. She pulled out her planner and showed me the class name, room, and time she was looking for.

"Oh," I told her. "That's this room. In half an hour."

"OK," she said, and walked right back out.

I have to give that class credit for not bursting into laughter as I would have been tempted to do were I watching the proceedings. Still, this incident is one of several signs I've been seeing that seem to suggest a more oblivious student population than previous semesters. I may have more stories yet.

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Now playing: On The Last Day - At The Breaking Of The World
via FoxyTunes

Too bad my birthday has already passed...

2009-08-24T15:18:00.000-05:00

Ah, the Internet has everything. I've joked about wanting a "WTF" stamp for student papers.

Turns out I could have one if I wanted, thanks to the creative folks at Etsy.

Oh man. And there's "FAIL" and "epic FAIL."

I dare not. I have nothing near tenure and might actually use them...

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Now playing: Bayside - Kellum
via FoxyTunes

Sets of three, leave them be

2009-08-19T20:44:00.000-05:00

My semester's gotten off to a rough start. Teaching two different classes on two different campuses on different days has extended the first day's madness to first two days' madness.

I'm also starting to wonder if three is an unlucky number for me, which is a bit saddening. It could be a bit of identification, but I've always been partial to odd numbers. Until this week, I quite liked three.

The first three-related mishap pertained to my syllabi. I had campus #1's syllabi copied off and was beginning to staple them when I realized I had run off too many copies; no sweat, thought I. I shall put the extras in a separate stack. I was proud of myself, even, for having caught and corrected my mistakes.

Until I realized that on my way out in the morning, I had grabbed one class's syllabi... and the stack of unstapled extras. That one took a bit of last-minute sense-talking and reassuring from my mentor to correct the problem, but I got over it and had a more or less decent day after that.

My second three-related woe follows a parallel track. The item in question this time was a set of keys. On Monday, I picked up my keys from campus #2; at the time, I was borrowing my mother's car while mine was in the shop. Once I had my car back, I left her the keys on her dresser. It was one of three sets of keys that were in my purse--my car and home keys, my office keys, and the borrowed car keys.

Yes, by this time you probably guessed it--I left my mom the office keys and still had her car key. Luckily, I was able to throw myself upon the mercy of both the department secretary and my officemate to get around the inconvenience, but I sure felt dumb. The car keys, also, were a spare set and so caused no inconvenience there.

I swear, I am developing all the scatter-brained professorial tendencies and none of the accompanying wisdom and stature.

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Now playing: Death Cab for Cutie - Someday You Will Be Loved
via FoxyTunes

Here we go again

2009-08-16T19:07:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, a meeting and the copying of syllabi. Tuesday, all hell breaks loo--

Aherm. Classes start again. I am eager and enthusiastic to mold young writers. And get paid. And have a more concrete schedule and purpose to dress in clothing nicer than merely jeans and T-shirts. And get paid. And, aw heck, I'm really trying to get myself excited here, and all I've managed so far is a "meh."

Selective attention to detail

2009-08-06T15:27:00.000-05:00

My out-of-town company asked last week to be taken to the library, that is, if the library was still open at the time. I glanced at my watch--shortly before 7 in the evening. The library is open until 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, so yeah, I said, the library is open.

We got there to find a closed library.

I was absolutely correct in my memorization of the library's hours, and I can recite from memory my library card numbers for two of the public library systems; however, I had missed the memo that it was not Thursday, as I had thought, but Friday.

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Now playing: Emilie Autumn - Misery Loves Company
via FoxyTunes

Lessons

2009-07-31T23:19:00.001-05:00

The last time I was on roller skates was years ago before I upgraded to roller blades and then abandoned said blades, so at least 12 or 13 years. I've forgotten a lot in that time.

The only way to get anywhere to to get out there. Sitting on the sidelines and watching people fly by is unsatisfying at best.
You may fall, it's true, but more likely than not, you'll wobble, adjust, and move on, pride the only injury.
Let the glide take you, as scary as that feels to relinquish the illusion of control. You may not go in exactly the direction you wanted, but fighting it is an invitation to stumble or unbalance yourself.
Don't think; do. Skate, and don't stop to over-analyze because that too is an invitation to falter.

Of course I'm still talking about roller skating. Whatever else would I be talking about?

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Now playing: Soul Asylum - Runaway Train (live)
via FoxyTunes

Familiarity

2009-07-27T23:22:00.000-05:00

Earlier in the summer, some weeks ago, I started taking regular walks in the evenings. They started as rambling strolls through a local park. I got a pedometer and was excited to see how far I could walk, further than I realized I could comfortably walk. Then I started timing my walks and was more thrilled to discover how briskly I could walk. I try each evening to either meet my personal mark or exceed it, whether the walk is 2 miles, 3 miles, or 4 miles.

On these walks, I started seeing some familiar faces--the mother and father with the child carriers on the backs of their bikes, the son on dad's bike, daughter on mom's. The joggers. The husband and wife; he never waves, but she waves in spite of the walking stick she's got propped behind her head with her arms drooped over it.

They come and go. I don't see them every night I go out there, due in part to a number of factors--sometimes I only get out a few nights a week, sometimes I rush at the last minute and finish just at the cusp of dark, and other nights I head out early. But I see one guy just about every night I'm out there. He's a bit of an older gentleman, greying hair, always in the same almost-uniform--white T-shirt, black shorts, black sneakers, sunglasses and baseball cap. He seems grim, or perhaps just determined, perhaps out walking to ward off the threat of a heart attack. He never waved back when I did as we inevitably passed.

Until a week ago or so. I've been trying to build running into my routine. 45 seconds, and I'm winded. On a good spell, I can hit a bit over a minute before I have to stop. On one such evening, we crossed paths, him walking steadily, me running and running out of steam at that. I raised a hand in acknowledgment as I passed. I don't know what changed things, but now when we pass, he raises his right hand in a half wave.

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Now playing: Ani DiFranco - Everest
via FoxyTunes

Dork badge, plz.

2009-07-20T22:55:00.000-05:00

I gleefully bought Pride and Prejudice and Zombies almost as soon as I heard about it. I devoured it as a zombie devours brains: with relish (figurative, I might add, not literal). Zombies aside, it was quite faithful to the original novel.

I can only hope the forthcoming Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters will be as delightful. I shall find out when I purchase it in September.

Frilly

2009-07-06T22:53:00.000-05:00

I've tossed practicality to the wind if only for one crochet project: I made a doily.

Now it's back to more practical things. Still, it was an interesting experience and not a painful one as I half expected it to be.

Piece of history

2009-07-02T23:37:00.000-05:00

Thirteen--or possibly fourteen--years ago, I remember hearing my parents' voices drift up from the basement. They were up to something, and there was a sheet-covered lump which I was instructed not to look at in the corner room of the basement. I was actually a pretty obedient child; I didn't look. I was also the sort of child to be delighted with something perhaps not many other children would be so delighted by: a desk of my very own complete with a matching chair. In retrospect, I think it may have also had a lamp with a swively neck, but it's been long gone.

It was a simple, small affair, white top, black metal legs and shelves underneath. It wasn't much, but it was mine, and I got quite a bit of use out of it. For years, I did my homework on it--the last of elementary school, the bit of middle school I did under my mother's tutelage, and the high school I did through correspondence. In the high school years, I think, I moved my desktop PC onto it, still getting quite a bit of use out of it. High school became community college, which led to university and grad school. Still my desk was there, ready for use. I eventually moved the tower to the floor, leaving some room to sprawl my papers out as I worked. At the end of grad school, I got a laptop, conserving more space and allowing for greater sprawl and spreading out of papers, both my own and those of the students I was beginning to teach. Grad school ended, I continued teaching, quit teaching, then went back to teaching, and I did a bulk of my prep work and grading at that same desk I got as a child.

And mind, it is a child's desk. My knees haven't fit comfortably under it for a long time, resulting in some not-so-pleasant knocks if I got up too fast, and the scant cushion on the chair has long worn thin. I've been thinking for a while to upgrade to a larger, sleeker model. I made up my mind to do so, changed it, and reversed course yet again. I half-heartedly skimmed ads and perused floor models when I saw them. Nothing shrieked at me, so I let it go.

Until today. I found a desk worthy of my patronage. The chair isn't the first one I fell in love with, but it's cushier than the old one by far. I hope I get a good 13 (or 14) years out of this one too. And I also hope, given that there's a lot of life still in that old, small desk, that someone else will love it as I have.