What are YOU doing this weekend?
:-)
Friday, September 30, 2005
little bit o this and little bit o that
I'm feeling heavy and tired today. Wanting badly to start my weekend and enjoy the cool weather that has settled upon us. I'm not feeling particulary motivated to really do any housework, cleaning, shopping, or reading of papers; but I do realize I've got all of that plus more to do.
I love calendars, planners, etc. They are so much a part of what I enjoy about school, being able to make a schedule, plan assignments, look into the future with the flip of a few pages and figure out what your gonna do next. The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that is not necessarily the way things go. In fact, most of the time things don't go like that at all. When I look back on things (mainly major important events) I am astounded at how little I actually had to do with the planning and implementation, sometimes the cosmos just all work together and bring you something wonderful.
I'm in countd0wn mode for a lot things right now, a new person on the way (april 06), a phd program, a move, and a new role in life. And I'm looking at all of these things and realizing that in some ways, I had very little to do with how it all came together, it just did.
I love calendars, planners, etc. They are so much a part of what I enjoy about school, being able to make a schedule, plan assignments, look into the future with the flip of a few pages and figure out what your gonna do next. The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that is not necessarily the way things go. In fact, most of the time things don't go like that at all. When I look back on things (mainly major important events) I am astounded at how little I actually had to do with the planning and implementation, sometimes the cosmos just all work together and bring you something wonderful.
I'm in countd0wn mode for a lot things right now, a new person on the way (april 06), a phd program, a move, and a new role in life. And I'm looking at all of these things and realizing that in some ways, I had very little to do with how it all came together, it just did.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Selling White-Ts
Have you ever met anyone who sells white-t's for a living? If not, your missing out. White-t salesfolk happen to be the most persuassive people alive, you could totally have your class do a rhetorical analysis on the use ancient rhetoric when trying to sell a white-t.
Here's just a snipet of a White-T sale conversation:
White T man: Yo, what's up man, I got some nice fresh white-ts for sale. You trying to look?
Guy: Naw, man. How you doing today? They got you scramblin'?
White T man: You know I'm living, just trying ta make a dolla, holla!
Guy: I hear that, ya family doing okie?
White T man: Don't you realize I got the freshest white-ts? You aint gone find non any better than this, nice loose fittin ones man. No tags to be scratchin up ya neck.
Guy: I hear ya, but I'm not trying to put no dough out there today.
White T man: You know dem white-ts you be getting fron Kmart? They ain't got nothing on my white-t's. Des ones is fresh mayne!
Guy: Yeah.
White T man: You know, I get des ones right from the maker. They get des joints from up in NYC. Fa real mayne, and you know dem NYC folk is gone have fresh white-ts.
Guy: Yeah, but just not today mayne. I ain't got the NYC dough.
White T man: Yeah mayne, I'm just trying to make some money mayne. I got kids you know. Three.
Guy: Oh word, I hear yah, we all trying to eat.
White T man: Yeah mayne, and the lil ones got ta eat. Thats why I like selling these white-ts
Guy: Yeah I know. (pauses) (sighs) I'll take a three pack.
Here's just a snipet of a White-T sale conversation:
White T man: Yo, what's up man, I got some nice fresh white-ts for sale. You trying to look?
Guy: Naw, man. How you doing today? They got you scramblin'?
White T man: You know I'm living, just trying ta make a dolla, holla!
Guy: I hear that, ya family doing okie?
White T man: Don't you realize I got the freshest white-ts? You aint gone find non any better than this, nice loose fittin ones man. No tags to be scratchin up ya neck.
Guy: I hear ya, but I'm not trying to put no dough out there today.
White T man: You know dem white-ts you be getting fron Kmart? They ain't got nothing on my white-t's. Des ones is fresh mayne!
Guy: Yeah.
White T man: You know, I get des ones right from the maker. They get des joints from up in NYC. Fa real mayne, and you know dem NYC folk is gone have fresh white-ts.
Guy: Yeah, but just not today mayne. I ain't got the NYC dough.
White T man: Yeah mayne, I'm just trying to make some money mayne. I got kids you know. Three.
Guy: Oh word, I hear yah, we all trying to eat.
White T man: Yeah mayne, and the lil ones got ta eat. Thats why I like selling these white-ts
Guy: Yeah I know. (pauses) (sighs) I'll take a three pack.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
should explain the title
I just realized I didn't even mention rolls in my last post even though i titled it roles and rolls. thinking about roles made me think about yummy hot buttered rolls that my granny and mom make.
Sorry, just hungry.
Sorry, just hungry.
Thinking about roles and rolls
This post over at Cheese and Responsibility really made me think about the various roles that I've assigned to myself and those that have been assigned to me by others (parents, family, husband, environment).
It was this portion of C&R's post that really stuck out to me:
Basically, I still exist in that bifurcated pre-adolescent state where you feel like a princess but live the life of a scullery maid. I was never one to really want to be a princess. I wanted to be a pirate.
I can identify with this on so many different levels. As I child I was a complete and total ham. And I mean that in the porkiest way possible. I loved attention, thrived off it. I would dress up in my auntie's old skirts and high heels, grab a bed post (mic) and stomp out Diana Ross tunes. I liked to play school and always be the one in charge, my favorite part of this activity was putting students out of the classroom and making report cards for them to take home. However, I never wanted to be a teacher. I guess at the time, I didn't think there was enough authority or power attached to it. So, like most kids I wanted to be an astronaut. I was determined. I'd build space shuttles with blankets, boxes, sheets, chairs, wood, whatever I could find. I'd use a play cash register as the 'buttons' and fly off into space. I stuck with the career choice of astronaut's for quite some time, then it shifted and I wanted to be a housewife. I'd cook in my kitchen, make pies out of dirt and grass, rock my dolls and diaper & wash them. I'd even give them hair cuts. This lasted for a bit, then I decided it was a doctor I needed to be. I wanted to wear a white coat, have a pager and have people shout my name.
The one fantasy I remember the most is that as a kid I'd play in my grandma's backyard in this alcove where tree limbs grew together and created a mini cave of sorts (well, a tree cave) I would pretend to be a maiden who had to fix rock stew for the forest creatures. I'd travel up and down the small inclines in my grandma's backyard, pretending they were mountains. I'd sneak and get water from the fountain, slosh it around and cook with it. I would dance in the middle of the yard with elves and witches and wizards. I loved pretending that I could live in a forest, in a cove of trees, with a lake, and everything I'd ever need right there.I think I forgot to mention that I'd do this all while in full costume, usually a long skirt or dress, because that's what all maidens wore, and sometimes my ballet shoes.
Looking back on it, its interesting to see how I moved from one phase/stage to another and this continued throughout elementary-middle-high school-college-grad school-now. In high school I wanted to be the center of attention, in college I kinda faded to the background and was happier their. But my career choices still mirror this weird dichotomy of wanting to be important, powerful, and honor simplicity. As an undergraduate I thought I wanted to be a doctor (an orthopedic surgeon), then I thought I wanted to be a teacher, then a lawyer, then I feel into the teaching thing with volunteer work I did. Initially, I wanted to teach high-school or elementary, but got a taste for teaching at the 2 & 4 year levels and was sold. I thought that a masters degree in my area (composition) would help ensure me an instructorship position, but it didn't. I fell into semester after semester of adjuncting, until I had to make some life decisions and get a full time job and adjunct in the evenings. I'm back at that issue of power now. I feel so powerless that I hunger and long to go back to school to finish my degree. But with that degree comes even more responsibility (and power). Responsibility and stress, and I'm at a point in my life where I no longer (thankfully) put myself first always. I've got a family to think about now, and that makes me ask myself whether or not this is something I still want.
Truth be told, on a day like this, I want nothing more than to dance in a field with fairies and wizards.
It was this portion of C&R's post that really stuck out to me:
Basically, I still exist in that bifurcated pre-adolescent state where you feel like a princess but live the life of a scullery maid. I was never one to really want to be a princess. I wanted to be a pirate.
I can identify with this on so many different levels. As I child I was a complete and total ham. And I mean that in the porkiest way possible. I loved attention, thrived off it. I would dress up in my auntie's old skirts and high heels, grab a bed post (mic) and stomp out Diana Ross tunes. I liked to play school and always be the one in charge, my favorite part of this activity was putting students out of the classroom and making report cards for them to take home. However, I never wanted to be a teacher. I guess at the time, I didn't think there was enough authority or power attached to it. So, like most kids I wanted to be an astronaut. I was determined. I'd build space shuttles with blankets, boxes, sheets, chairs, wood, whatever I could find. I'd use a play cash register as the 'buttons' and fly off into space. I stuck with the career choice of astronaut's for quite some time, then it shifted and I wanted to be a housewife. I'd cook in my kitchen, make pies out of dirt and grass, rock my dolls and diaper & wash them. I'd even give them hair cuts. This lasted for a bit, then I decided it was a doctor I needed to be. I wanted to wear a white coat, have a pager and have people shout my name.
The one fantasy I remember the most is that as a kid I'd play in my grandma's backyard in this alcove where tree limbs grew together and created a mini cave of sorts (well, a tree cave) I would pretend to be a maiden who had to fix rock stew for the forest creatures. I'd travel up and down the small inclines in my grandma's backyard, pretending they were mountains. I'd sneak and get water from the fountain, slosh it around and cook with it. I would dance in the middle of the yard with elves and witches and wizards. I loved pretending that I could live in a forest, in a cove of trees, with a lake, and everything I'd ever need right there.I think I forgot to mention that I'd do this all while in full costume, usually a long skirt or dress, because that's what all maidens wore, and sometimes my ballet shoes.
Looking back on it, its interesting to see how I moved from one phase/stage to another and this continued throughout elementary-middle-high school-college-grad school-now. In high school I wanted to be the center of attention, in college I kinda faded to the background and was happier their. But my career choices still mirror this weird dichotomy of wanting to be important, powerful, and honor simplicity. As an undergraduate I thought I wanted to be a doctor (an orthopedic surgeon), then I thought I wanted to be a teacher, then a lawyer, then I feel into the teaching thing with volunteer work I did. Initially, I wanted to teach high-school or elementary, but got a taste for teaching at the 2 & 4 year levels and was sold. I thought that a masters degree in my area (composition) would help ensure me an instructorship position, but it didn't. I fell into semester after semester of adjuncting, until I had to make some life decisions and get a full time job and adjunct in the evenings. I'm back at that issue of power now. I feel so powerless that I hunger and long to go back to school to finish my degree. But with that degree comes even more responsibility (and power). Responsibility and stress, and I'm at a point in my life where I no longer (thankfully) put myself first always. I've got a family to think about now, and that makes me ask myself whether or not this is something I still want.
Truth be told, on a day like this, I want nothing more than to dance in a field with fairies and wizards.
Monday, September 26, 2005
not much to say....
I've not said much about the class I'm teaching this semester. I don't know if thats a good thing or a bad thing. I've got one section of a second-year composition course with 25 students. The end goal of the course is to have students write a research-argument essay. So far the class has been going along as most do, not much to say at all.
As for my own goal of reviving a chapter or two and publishing it from my thesis, not much to say at all there either. I enjoy the research but its the writing that actually gets me. I could read and research for the next 100 years and never feel compelled to actually write one sentence! Writing is a painful activity for me, I don't know why. I like to be challenged, love to read, but the act of writing reminds me of what it used to be like when I had a tooth that was about to come out. My PaPa pulled all of my loose teeth when I was a kid. He'd come home in the evening from work, I'd dance around the living room floor, pulling at my tooth and tasting bits of blood and the open gummy feeling that a loose tooth leaves you with. He'd go to the kitchen sink, wash his hands and tell me to stand in front of him as he sat on the sofa or in the kitchen. I'd stand and let him shake the tooth, then I'd dance around the room some more and complain. Then he'd say, "Come on and let me get that tooth out!" My grandma would be in the kitchen making dinner and would try to persuade me to let him go ahead and do it and get it over with. So finally, after much dancing and pulling and jiggling the tooth around I'd sit on the couch and my PaPa would take a piece of string and wrap it around said tooth. He'd rock it back and forth carefully with his finger and then jerk the string, out the tooth would pop, into his hand. I'd go to the bathroom and wash my mouth out w/ salt water. I always loved the way it would feel when I rubbed my tongue over the open toothless groove. Smooth, salty, gummy. But I hated the tooth-pulling process.
So, how pray tell you might ask, is writing like getting your tooth pulled? Its that dance act I used to do, the anticipation, the wanting to have the tooth pulled, but at the same time not wanting to go through with the process needed to get the tooth out. Thats what writing is like for me, there is so much drama involved (all from me) and I dread it. Once I'm done, its a marvelous feeling, but its that dance that gets me.
As for my own goal of reviving a chapter or two and publishing it from my thesis, not much to say at all there either. I enjoy the research but its the writing that actually gets me. I could read and research for the next 100 years and never feel compelled to actually write one sentence! Writing is a painful activity for me, I don't know why. I like to be challenged, love to read, but the act of writing reminds me of what it used to be like when I had a tooth that was about to come out. My PaPa pulled all of my loose teeth when I was a kid. He'd come home in the evening from work, I'd dance around the living room floor, pulling at my tooth and tasting bits of blood and the open gummy feeling that a loose tooth leaves you with. He'd go to the kitchen sink, wash his hands and tell me to stand in front of him as he sat on the sofa or in the kitchen. I'd stand and let him shake the tooth, then I'd dance around the room some more and complain. Then he'd say, "Come on and let me get that tooth out!" My grandma would be in the kitchen making dinner and would try to persuade me to let him go ahead and do it and get it over with. So finally, after much dancing and pulling and jiggling the tooth around I'd sit on the couch and my PaPa would take a piece of string and wrap it around said tooth. He'd rock it back and forth carefully with his finger and then jerk the string, out the tooth would pop, into his hand. I'd go to the bathroom and wash my mouth out w/ salt water. I always loved the way it would feel when I rubbed my tongue over the open toothless groove. Smooth, salty, gummy. But I hated the tooth-pulling process.
So, how pray tell you might ask, is writing like getting your tooth pulled? Its that dance act I used to do, the anticipation, the wanting to have the tooth pulled, but at the same time not wanting to go through with the process needed to get the tooth out. Thats what writing is like for me, there is so much drama involved (all from me) and I dread it. Once I'm done, its a marvelous feeling, but its that dance that gets me.
Virginia Oddities
My dear friend gave a beautiful post about Hawaii Oddities and so now I've got to follow through with some Virginia ones:
-People wear shorts and flip-flops year round, at any hint of sun and then complain when they are sick and their nose is oozing green snot.
-The colors in the sky over the industrial plants are VERY distinguishable, usually orange or yellow.
-I would not suggest walking in the grass without shoes, you are liable to get your feet cut on broken glass.
Ahhhhh the beauties of the city.
-People wear shorts and flip-flops year round, at any hint of sun and then complain when they are sick and their nose is oozing green snot.
-The colors in the sky over the industrial plants are VERY distinguishable, usually orange or yellow.
-I would not suggest walking in the grass without shoes, you are liable to get your feet cut on broken glass.
Ahhhhh the beauties of the city.
Friday, September 23, 2005
8 Week Prenatal Visit
My first pre-natal visit. I felt like I was signing up for the military, all the questions, forms, sticks, tests, pricks, yikers, but it is over and all is well. Very well.
I am weighing in at....172 lbs! I can't believe it, well, yes I can. Too bad none of this is baby fat, but all my own. Its okie though, the baby will have much to snack on. hehehe
We had an ultrasound done, no one told me it was the kind where they have to insert something, ugh, I was in for quite a shock when the lady handed me a wand and asked me to cough. Well, she didn't ask me to cough. My shock subsided when I was able to see a tiny moving speck on the screen, one baby, with one heart beating at 184 beats/min. Amazing. No words to describe it. The ultra sound tech turned the sound up on the machine and I thought I was listening to my own heart beat, when she told me it was the baby's I could not believe it. I have two hearts beating inside me and I'm not on Ripley's Believe it or Not. Amazing.
We had to answer tons of questions about our health and histories, and then we got to ask tons of questions, like:
-What about constipation?
-Just how much should a pregnant woman eat?
-Is it bad to want ham and fried eggs? *Please note, I did not eat fried eggs and ham, I will not eat them, Sam, I am. (couldn't avoid that)
-When will the morning sickness end?
-Just how bad is stress and anxiety for babies? *Please note, I am doing yoga and about to start double doses come January.
They finally let me go after two hours of testing, questioning, three vials of blood, and a bag full of freebie baby stuff.
Now I have two baby pictures. Both show a gorgeous kid, and smart too. I can tell already, this baby is going to be the world's next rhetorician!
I am weighing in at....172 lbs! I can't believe it, well, yes I can. Too bad none of this is baby fat, but all my own. Its okie though, the baby will have much to snack on. hehehe
We had an ultrasound done, no one told me it was the kind where they have to insert something, ugh, I was in for quite a shock when the lady handed me a wand and asked me to cough. Well, she didn't ask me to cough. My shock subsided when I was able to see a tiny moving speck on the screen, one baby, with one heart beating at 184 beats/min. Amazing. No words to describe it. The ultra sound tech turned the sound up on the machine and I thought I was listening to my own heart beat, when she told me it was the baby's I could not believe it. I have two hearts beating inside me and I'm not on Ripley's Believe it or Not. Amazing.
We had to answer tons of questions about our health and histories, and then we got to ask tons of questions, like:
-What about constipation?
-Just how much should a pregnant woman eat?
-Is it bad to want ham and fried eggs? *Please note, I did not eat fried eggs and ham, I will not eat them, Sam, I am. (couldn't avoid that)
-When will the morning sickness end?
-Just how bad is stress and anxiety for babies? *Please note, I am doing yoga and about to start double doses come January.
They finally let me go after two hours of testing, questioning, three vials of blood, and a bag full of freebie baby stuff.
Now I have two baby pictures. Both show a gorgeous kid, and smart too. I can tell already, this baby is going to be the world's next rhetorician!
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Answer me this, please
How can you make a living doing the thing you love the most, but fear the most?
I've been teaching now for 3 years (sometimes paid, sometimes not paid) at different types of learning institutions. I've taught composition, literature, 'developmental' writing, and taught various levels of ESL. I love teaching. I love the interaction, the learning, and the sharing that goes on in the classroom. But what I'm learning now, is that the politics involved are spooky. I'm not a good politikal (said in my southern drawl) person and I worry about that. I worry about tenure, reviews, publishing, coming up with some snazzy new theory regarding new media and rhetoric, actually writing something that DOES get published and doesn't just sit in my head or on my shelf (i.e. my thesis). I worry, and I worry, and I worry some more.
Do I want to be an ad-junc-t (all day juggling underpaid no clout tatall) for the rest of my life? NO
Do I want to learn more about rhetorical studies and media?
YES
Do I want to worry about whether or not I'll make publishing deadlines for tenure?
NO
Do I want to have job security in a job I love?
YES
Why do I even bother worrying about stuff thats not even here yet? I've got a year before I go to school and I think I'm a bit afraid. Afraid I won't be able to balance work, writing, a family, and myself.
Today is one of those days where I wish I could force myself to write. Force myself to meet deadlines for CFPs. Where I wish I could have been hired as an instructor so I could still do what I love and actually get paid a decent amount of money to do it.
I should have been an engineer.
I've been teaching now for 3 years (sometimes paid, sometimes not paid) at different types of learning institutions. I've taught composition, literature, 'developmental' writing, and taught various levels of ESL. I love teaching. I love the interaction, the learning, and the sharing that goes on in the classroom. But what I'm learning now, is that the politics involved are spooky. I'm not a good politikal (said in my southern drawl) person and I worry about that. I worry about tenure, reviews, publishing, coming up with some snazzy new theory regarding new media and rhetoric, actually writing something that DOES get published and doesn't just sit in my head or on my shelf (i.e. my thesis). I worry, and I worry, and I worry some more.
Do I want to be an ad-junc-t (all day juggling underpaid no clout tatall) for the rest of my life? NO
Do I want to learn more about rhetorical studies and media?
YES
Do I want to worry about whether or not I'll make publishing deadlines for tenure?
NO
Do I want to have job security in a job I love?
YES
Why do I even bother worrying about stuff thats not even here yet? I've got a year before I go to school and I think I'm a bit afraid. Afraid I won't be able to balance work, writing, a family, and myself.
Today is one of those days where I wish I could force myself to write. Force myself to meet deadlines for CFPs. Where I wish I could have been hired as an instructor so I could still do what I love and actually get paid a decent amount of money to do it.
I should have been an engineer.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
what i could really do right now:
(in no particular order)
1. drink a large glass of southern style iced tea.
2. sit on a nice verandah
3. continue reading my new book by monica ali.
1. drink a large glass of southern style iced tea.
2. sit on a nice verandah
3. continue reading my new book by monica ali.
Eat the food Tina!
I finally got to see Napolean Dynamite, I must admit I first avoided this movie like the plague because so many of my students loved it, I thought, it can't be good. But, my cousin and brother brought it over a couple of weeks ago and insisted that I watch. We only skipped around to certain parts, but I got the dvd back from my cousin just the other night and decided to watch from beginning to end. I loved it. The moon boots, the hair, the language, the setting, everything.
My brother and cousin both now hate the film because they say Napolean was a looser and just didn't realize it, but I see it in just the opposite. Napolean was whoever in the 'freak' he wanted to be. And I liked him for that. Plus he just reminded me so much of myself, dance moves, loving tater tots...ahhh those were the days.
If you are interested in moon boots ( a 2005 version) check these out. If like me, you prefer the old school version, check this out.
My brother and cousin both now hate the film because they say Napolean was a looser and just didn't realize it, but I see it in just the opposite. Napolean was whoever in the 'freak' he wanted to be. And I liked him for that. Plus he just reminded me so much of myself, dance moves, loving tater tots...ahhh those were the days.
If you are interested in moon boots ( a 2005 version) check these out. If like me, you prefer the old school version, check this out.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
guess who's biz-ack?
Well, because I was always the kid on the playground who wanted to *really* do something after all the other cool kids did something, I've revived the blog again.
A good friend has sent me a link to her blog. And b/cs she's doing it, I want to do it too.
Its been a number of months as you can tell from the last post, since I've written, so we'll see if this new blog-community keeps me motivated.
A good friend has sent me a link to her blog. And b/cs she's doing it, I want to do it too.
Its been a number of months as you can tell from the last post, since I've written, so we'll see if this new blog-community keeps me motivated.
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