Shocked

Today started pretty ordinarily. I began work in the morning and took a break a few minutes ago to have some lunch. We recently started getting the newspaper by subscription - I haven't subscribed to anything other than small local papers in years - and sometimes I read it while I eat lunch.

There I was, eating leftover Chinese food, when I turned the page and saw a picture of my former sister-in-law.

She disappeared 16 years ago and they just now charged a man with her murder.

I'm shocked. I hadn't really thought much about her since my divorce. I had only met her once, and briefly, and even then, I don't think she said much more than two words to me. I don't think she particularly liked me. But she was also fairly young when we met, so maybe it was just teenage standoffishness to a stranger, since that's what I was to her. Either way, I didn't really know her at all. She hadn't been living at home for several years before she disappeared, but I remember how hard her leaving had hit her mother.

Even though I barely knew her, reading about this case and being reminded of it, has affected me more than I would expect. I think the thing that makes this feel so shocking is how it will affect people who I care about - my stepdaughter in particular. I hope when this news unearths memories for her as well, it isn't painful, but might provide some relief knowing that there will be some closure with the pressing of charges against the man believed to be her aunt's killer.

Scattered

Too many things.

Too many different things.

Too many things to keep track of.

Too much work to do.

Storyworlds

For my comprehensive exams, one of my areas was narrative theory, which is an area of inquiry that examines the features and functions of narrative. Sounds simple, and in some ways it is, but there are some subtleties that I never would have thought about had they not belonged within this category.

But that's beside the point of this post. My point is that one of the concepts of narrative theory is the storyworld. It's really big in theories that explore the function and interactive nature of video games in particular. If you've ever read a book set in a place that you didn't recognize (which is most books) or played a video game, you've got an idea of what narrative theorists mean by storyworlds.

Rawdon Wilson describes how the axioms of a storyworld contribute to the kind of story you get. He uses a parable of two brothers who tire of reality and reimagine it to describe what happens in the use of storyworld axioms. The first brother creates his world by inventing counterintuitive propositions and accepting the axioms that would grow from them. This is what science fiction or fantasy is often seen to do - to take a proposition and follow it to its logical conclusion.

The second brother employed a code of normality which was interwined with a code in which anything might happen in his creation of a new imaginative world. This is magic realism. These brothers eventually become difficult to tell apart in their creation of new worlds to their followers.

Now, obviously Wilson's definition leaves out the third kind of storyworld, where the writer (a third brother so to speak) reproduces the recognizable world, even if it is part of the world that is unfamiliar to the writer or his readers. But that probably goes without saying.

I got thinking about storyworlds after I had a very strange experience this weekend. At one point, within a small group, we were talking, not about anything in particular, but just the kind of banter that happens when friends get together. Anyway, someone said something, and my first thought was to relate it to the storyworld I've been creating in this novel writing endeavour. I almost opened my mouth, because it made so much sense to me to say what I was going to say. But I stopped myself before saying anything by realizing what seemed very real and logical to me, the creator of this storyworld, would be incomprehensible to someone who didn't know that storyworld. Had I made a comment that made perfect sense for me buried in this world I'm creating, it would have sounded like sheer idiocy to anyone else.

Wilson didn't talk about what happens when fictional storyworlds invade the real one, but it doesn't take much to realize how disastrous it can be when you can't tell the difference between the two.

My kind of poetry

"WINTER POEM"

a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

" SHIT It's Cold! "

Just a little behind

If you've been curious how the Nanowrimo is going, well, the post title says it all.

On second thought, the title doesn't quite cover all of it. I am a bit behind where I should be at this point in the month in order to reach the goal of 50,000 words by November 30th. But I'm not terribly far behind, and today is the day I'm going to try to catch up to where I should be.

I need to average just under 2000 words a day to reach my goal. Right now I'm about a day behind. Part of it is because I've never undertaken something like this before. It's been a strange experience, working on a long piece of fiction with this kind of deadline/challenge hanging over my head.

It's also hard. There are some days that as I'm writing, I'm checking the word count every 200 words or so because it seems so hard to get them on the page. It's not that I don't have ideas for the story. I know where I want it to go, and I've got it mapped out for the next 5,000 words or so as well as some episodes that I want to include later on. But sometimes translating those ideas into those black marks on a white page is much harder than I ever thought it would be.

It makes me wonder whether other writers struggle in the same way, or whether it comes more easily to them? I don't know the answer, but I'm clinging to the hope that it will be like other things that I've tried. At first, they're really hard, but then get easier as I get more experienced at doing them. My academic writing has been this way. As an undergrad, I used to struggle a lot to get papers written. Not because of a lack of ideas, but just the process of getting it onto the paper in a format that I was satisfied with. But as I've progressed through my degrees, it's gotten easier. Not that it's easy. Just easier. I still feel like I'm sweating bullets at various points in an article. It's just that there are also places where I can sail along relatively unhampered by difficulties our doubts about what I'm writing.

Part of the reason why I took up the Nanowrimo challenge is because I wanted to see if that same thing could happen to a piece of fiction. I guess we'll see when November 30th rolls around.

I didn't even know these things existed outside the movies!

When the robots take over, they won't be running in the streets killing people - they'll be hitting us where it really hurts, our cars.

That's Calgary for you!

Yesterday during my run, I was getting quite warm and at one point thought to myself, "Boy, that breeze sure is nice"

Today it's snowing and I'm dreaming of warm sunny beaches.

Miscommunication, or non-communication?

Yesterday got entirely derailed and now I feel out of sorts, like my plans are in ruins and I don't know how to get back on track.

See, yesterday I had planned on finishing reading a theory book, and making significant headway on one of the novels.

But my boss called at 10 am. And he had a huge list of things to do. He's been in Hong Kong for the last three weeks, so we've really only communicated by email. I had a clear idea of what he wanted me to get done before he left, and I did all those things, but when he called he seemed disappointed that I hadn't done more.

Now, I hadn't failed to do more because I was lazy or just didn't think it was important. I'd done everything I knew he wanted. I had also sent him an outline that he wanted to forward to our client. I sent it twice. But when he called, he told me he needed it to be more detailed. Which confused me, because I didn't see how I could get much more detailed without actually starting to create the content, which we didn't want to do until the client approved the outline. And then he was disappointed that I hadn't created the outline for another project. I was under the mistaken impression that we hadn't even secured funding for that second project, so I didn't work on it (if we don't have money for the project, I won't get paid for doing the work, right?)

After he told me we did have funding, I got on the outline right away, but I was still puzzled by the request to expand the other outline. Luckily I wasn't puzzled for long because he called back and told me he'd found it in his inbox. He just wanted some minor notation changes, which were easy enough to do.

All in all, it was only a few hours of work, but I have mixed feelings about it because I think he's disappointed in my lack of work while he was gone, whereas I feel like I wasn't given a clear indication of what he wanted. It's a little frustrating.

Actually I think it all comes down to email. I'm fairly comfortable with email, and although sometimes I don't exactly get my point across right away, I keep trying. I feel comfortable having an extended conversation over a series of emails, but his are generally very short and often don't directly answer the questions I've asked. So when he goes away again next month, I'm afraid we're going to have the same problem. All I can hope is that our projects are well enough established that I'll have a better idea of what they need for us to pull them off and I'll need to rely on his email communication less. But I'm still a bit concerned that miscommunication or lack of communication might make this ideal job less than ideal.

Maybe that's why today it feels hard to shift gears and get back into my own work. But I've got to find a way to shift back and forth more effortlessly, or this kind of thing will keep on happening. And I've got to figure out my boss's communication style before he leaves town again.

I'm near Carl Sagan! Don't know if that's cool or scary...

So I was wandering through the internets a few weeks ago when I found this. It's a Worldview Quiz, which is supposed to give you an idea of where your beliefs and values fit in reference to some well known figures. According to their description:

Half of the questions deal with beliefs about how the world works; for instance, to what extent your worldview is based in faith, science, or both. The other half deal with opinions about what is important, especially as relates to humankind and the future; these values questions are outside of the realm of science.

As you can see, I mapped up in the top right corner, which I can only assume belongs to eternally optimistic science geeks. Some days I'd say I can fit in that category, but other days don't feel that way; other days I feel way too pessimistic about everything - including science - to ever think things will work out for humanity. My position on the chart reminds me of the transhumanists I've been reading about (for example here): they believe that we will transcend our current biology and technology and in so doing, transcend many of the problems in our world.

At the same time, I'm highly skeptical of such a project, since I doubt adding technology and changing human beings into posthumanity will solve the problems we already have. I suspect we'll drag them with us into the posthuman future, where they will simply be amplified (some of the texts I'm writing about in the dissertation explore this very question).

Maybe the day I took it I was feeling especially optimistic. Or maybe it outweighs my pessimism slightly. Either way, for what it's worth, I'm apparently a believer/valuer of progress and science.

Winter

Fall is awfully short here. I'd forgotten that. Actually, when we went to New England, I marvelled at how long the fall was, but coming back, I'd forgotten that the reverse was true, that it's very short here.

Since the snowfall last weekend, it has felt wintry, even though I know all the snow will be gone again by the end of this weekend and it will feel much nicer outside. Which is good, because I'm not quite ready for cold yet.

I've been trying to be more diligent in my running schedule and quit making excuses for not going. Cold weather one of those excuses I'm really happy to use, and I don't want to start using it... at least not yet. But I think I'm going to have to get some better cold weather running gear.

When we were here before, I lived a couple of blocks away from the Olympic Oval, which has a beautiful 400m track around it and is open to the public whenever the speedskaters don't have it booked (you can just barely see the track running just outside of the ice surface in the photograph). I sure got spoiled having that facility next door. The temperature at ice level was perfect for running, whether in the heat of summer, or the cool of winter. Now I have no access to an indoor track, so if I want to go, I have to venture outdoors. Hence, the quest for better outdoor running gear.

The snowfall did allow me to impress my oldest daughter however. The main roads are pretty good - it's not really that cold nor have we had that much snow - but the side roads to her house are pretty slick. I came around one corner and the backside of the car began to slide, so I went with it and pulled it through the corner. I pulled up in front of her house and she said to me. "That was so scary. But you just kept talking as if nothing happened!" (It wasn't really scary - I've had scary slides, and this was nothing more than a little slip of the rear end around an icy corner - but she's now starting to pay attention to these things) So she thought I was pretty cool to handle it that way. Kinda neat when you're kids think you're cool, even when you know you're not...

4755 words

That's a lot of words, or very few words, depending on your perspective. It's very few words for a novel, or some long piece of academic writing like, say, a dissertation. It's even only about 1/7th of my master's thesis.

But it's longer than a conference paper, and about the length of some seminar papers I've written. It's also really long for a blog post.

I'm pretty happy with the number though. That's how many words I've written for Nanowrimo, which is right on track for getting to 50,000 words by the end of the month. Actually, it's even a bit ahead of the game, which is good, because I can anticipate a certain level of reluctance creeping in as the month goes on. Thirty days solid of that kind of writing production is pretty intense, even if it's really rough writing. And it is. I'm not thinking about which word to use, or how to phrase something as much as I 'm just concentrating on getting the ideas onto the paper.

I'm having fun - so far - and it's kinda cool to think that if I can keep this up, I might just have an interesting story by the end of it.

But that's a long way off, and there are a lot of things that could derail me before that point. One day at a time is all I can count on. I've done things that way before - one day at a time - sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding, but always in the end, feeling like it was worth the effort. So here I go again, with something else this time. One. day. at. a. time.

Too much of a good thing?

One of the disadvantages of living in a house bigger than a closet is that there are so many more places to put things and forget where you've put them.

Minimalism, or an embarassment of riches?

Just as I'm ready to embark on the Nanowrimo challenge, I come across this: the six word novel. Some of my favorite authors are listed, and I'm surprised by how many of the novels envision the end of the world or humanity. Since I like sf, I've always liked those kinds of stories, but they seem unusually common even for a group of genre fiction writers.

Daylight Savings

I've always wondered what people who work the graveyard shift think of daylight savings. In the fall, they have to work an extra hour that night, right? I wonder if they get overtime? (I assume they would, but my copy of the Alberta Labour code doesn't specifically address it). I would hope they'd get overtime! I hated working graveyards enough as it was, but to think you might have to do an extra hour at regular pay is just too much!

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

Next time you see me post about booking a flight to go somewhere else, remind me never to book an evening flight back, okay? Man! was I tired Tuesday night! Getting on a plane at 6 pm EST then spending the next seven hours on a plane/in an airport was brutal. Everytime I think my body's getting better at travelling, I realize I'm just deluding myself!

Seeing friends was good... very good... but I also ate waaay too much good food!

Finally nailing down a response from one of my readers was also good. And bad. But mostly good. I sure do hope I don't have to show up in person at his office door to get him to read stuff everytime though, 'cause that will get very expensive! But threatening to appear in person did the trick, and I got some really good feedback. He challenged me to add a dimension to the dissertation that I didn't have there. It will make the dissertation better (if I can pull it off, of course) and provide me with some really good experience in integrating thematic and philosophical themes within one extended scholarly endeavour. So it was good feedback.

The downside is that it requires a huge course of reading to pull it off. HUGE. In an area I've never concertedly studied before. Which means I need to take probably three or four months to read through it all and formulate a response to my reader's comments. Like I said, it will improve the dissertation, but, right now, it feels a bit overwhelming. So, it's off to the library to find what I need.

Why do I feel a bit like Frodo, contemplating Mount Doom?

You just can't go back

They say you can't go home again, and my experience moving back to Canada would confirm that. It's not quite the same as it was before you left... because you're not the same person, obviously, but it does surprise me how many people expect things to be the same. Moving back, I remember locations, routes, what places have good coffee, what streets to avoid, and such, but my interaction with those spaces is different than it was before I left.

Actually, I found myself when we first got back thinking about the more distant past, about 20 years ago when I first arrived in the city, rather than my life just before I left it 4 years ago. I'm not sure why, but I can only assume that the re-arrival two months ago triggered a lot of memories of that first arrival.

And now I'm finding that coming back to Boston, even only two months after leaving, feels very different. I suppose most of it has to do with not having a routine to follow, or the knowledge that I'm just visiting, but even it and the school feel like different places. I also realize that my half of any conversation will feel different than the other half. As I'm talking, I'm thinking about how weird it feels to be back, but at the same time, with some people who I never did talk to on a weekly basis, I realize that for them, nothing may feel different. What seems huge to me - that I'm no longer living here - is irrelevant for them. And that's a very strange feeling.

So I guess I'm figuring out that not only you can't go home again, but you also can't go away again, without it being different.

There are types of violence I guess

Just opened the wrapper on a DVD that bears the warning:

R for Strong Sci-Fi Action and Violence, and for Language

So how is Sci-Fi Action and Violence different from regular violence? Is it the potential unreality that is offensive? Transporters are subversive while subways aren't? Laser guns more violent than machine guns? Spaceship chase scenes more horrifying than the General Lee flying through the air? What?

Even the irrelevant can be relevant

I've been reading an interesting - and blessedly short - book about Star Trek and humanism that I picked up a couple of weeks ago. As far as academic press books go, it has all the things I think a good academic book should have. A (fairly) clear topic, a clearly outlined agenda, a handful of excellent insights that have me nodding and wondering why I didn't think of that, and the ability to generate a few questions that have driven me to further investigate the ideas presented.

Having said that, I've also been encouraged by reading Drones, Clones and Alpha Babes: Retrofitting Star Trek's Humanism, Post 9/11. Yes, I realize it's one of those many books that have emerged in the last five years that are trying to capitalize on the events of Sept. 11th, and since the book actually has fairly little to say on the subject, the title would certainly be just as descriptive without those final words. But what I've been encouraged by is the author's insertion of herself into the text.

I've been struggling a bit over the last few years with the idea of calling myself a Brit lit specialist, since, well, I'm not British and have never lived in Britain. I've been feeling like I'm not qualified to discuss British literature - particularly from a cultural studies perspective - without having lived there. But then I read Diana Relke's book, and in it, she makes it clear that she is a Canadian writing about an American cultural phenomena... and an American political climate. Her writing appears more academic for this reason. By looking at a cultural phenomena from the outside (but not so far outside that there's no resonance of understanding for her as the author), she has a kind of distance that allows a more objective point of view. As a reader, there doesn't seem to be an agenda, just a critical analysis, and it makes for a stronger argument I think.

So, I feel encouraged by her example that my own work is not without merit and my distance from contemporary culture in Britain might provide me with an advantage I might not have if I were immersed in the middle of it.

I think her summary in the Afterword of the book best sums up her approach to the subject as a Canadian studying an American pop cultural phenomenon:

In short, we make a fetish of any event that permits us to avoid the truth that no two nations on Earth are as alike as Canada and the United States. Like the Borg and Federation, like Shinzon and Picard, we are mirrors for each other - and what we have recently seen in that mirror is a squadron of Israeli Defense Force bombers at a Canadian military base practising how to drop Israel's newly-purchased American bunker-busters in the impending war against Iran. So we're already implicated. But that mirror also makes Canadians much more likely than other nationals to appreciate the nuances of the American imagination.

I like the idea that viewing another culture from the outside might act as a mirror for our own culture. It certainly lends itself to one of the central premises of my dissertation - that the human-species-wide implications of genetic biotechnologies represented in fiction may find expression in different ways across cultures, in part because of those cultures' histories of community inclusion and exclusion and how that has shaped their definitions and attitudes toward citizens and others.

So while the subject of the book is only peripherally related to the work I am doing, it has modelled for me a way of writing that is very attractive. Time well spent, I would say.

Perhaps a touch of narcissism isn't bad

Usually after I publish a blog post I go to "view blog" just to see what it looks like. I've been trying not to do so lately because it feels narcissistic, but OH LOOK! Blogger didn't publish the post it said it had published last weekend!

Guess I'm just *have* to keep checking up on them!

It's all about not embarassing myself

I didn't embarass myself on the Gorilla Run. But I came close. I woke up that morning with a stomach ache, which really didn't go away before the race, so my stomach was aching something fierce during the whole run.

At least that was the only problem. I woke up that morning out of a dream in which I had a stomach ache, which was a bit disturbing since I woke up with a stomach ache as well. But at least the rest of my dream didn't come true. I also dreamt that I couldn't find anything in the morning. I also couldn't dress myself. I kept running back into the house to get things. I also kept realizing that I'd forgotten to put on pieces of clothing, like a long sleeved shirt under my T-shirt or socks. As a result, in my dream, we didn't get out of the house till 10:10, which means we totally missed the 8 am race!

At least we got there on time. And I'm glad I ran with my sister. She was a great motivation, and everytime I wanted to slow down or even stop because my stomach was bothering me, she'd say really positive things like "we're almost there" and spur me on to keep going. She was great! and I wouldn't have done near as well if I hadn't had her pushing (or more accurately, pulling) me along. But I didn't embarass myself by dropping out or walking, so overall, I'm pleased with my performance.

Congratulations!... too bad we didn't plan this too well...

Congratulations to middle daughter for running a great 4k race today and qualifying for the Provincials! Yeah!

Too bad they take place the weekend the two of us have already booked tickets for Boston and she won't be able to go...

Fun with words

After a full day of reading extremely dry material that left me scratching my head, I decided I needed some amusement. I found it when I ran across this website that converts webpages into various "dialects"... here's my last post, converted to jive:

Dursday, Octoba' 05, 2006

De mo'e doodads change da damn mo'e dey stay de same

Lookin' back, ah' see dat dree years ago on dis day, I wuz preoccupied wid mah' (in)ability t'get around.

Last year, ah' wuz bloggin' about mah' baaaad homeys.

Today, homeys and movin' around is also on mah' mind. I'm missin' homeys dat I've left behind some lot today. Slap mah fro! I'm not sho' man whut it be about today dat's generatin' dis feelin', but ah' am missin' dem. WORD! As much as wo'kin' fum crib be convenient and all, it probably won't help t'dispel de feelin' dat I'm disconnected fum de wo'ld. I'm lookin' fo'ward t'a trip back in de next few weeks as some way uh reconnectin', if only tempo'arily. Slap mah fro!

On some brighta' note, I'm pleased wid mah' last run. 'S coo', bro. Last week ah' finally gots'ta de point where ah' dun didn't feel sho't uh bread durin' de whole run. 'S coo', bro... which ah' can only assume be related t'a real slow acclimatizashun t'de higha' eleveashun here. It wuz real baaaad t'finish some (sho't) run widout feelin' likes ah' wuz gaspin' fo' air de whole time. And yesterday, ah' finally broke da damn 4 km barria' dat ah' seemed t'be stymied by fo' de last several monds. ah' know it's not much - some uh my eyeballers run MUCH farda' dan dat - but fo' me it's some bustdrough. Lop some boogie. And at least now ah' won't embarass mah'self wid some poo' puh'fo'mance at next weekend's Go'illa Run.

Now I'm gonna go convert some other webpages and see what comes out!

The more things change the more they stay the same

Looking back, I see that three years ago on this day, I was preoccupied with my (in)ability to get around.

Last year, I was blogging about my good friends.

Today, friends and moving around are also on my mind. I'm missing friends that I've left behind a lot today. I'm not sure what it is about today that's generating this feeling, but I am missing them. As much as working from home is convenient and all, it probably won't help to dispel the feeling that I'm disconnected from the world. I'm looking forward to a trip back in the next few weeks as a way of reconnecting, if only temporarily.

On a brighter note, I'm pleased with my last run. Last week I finally got to the point where I didn't feel short of breath during the whole run... which I can only assume is related to a really slow acclimatization to the higher eleveation here. It was really good to finish a (short) run without feeling like I was gasping for air the whole time. And yesterday, I finally broke the 4 km barrier that I seemed to be stymied by for the last several months. I know it's not much - some of my readers run MUCH farther than that - but for me it's a breakthrough. And at least now I won't embarass myself with a poor performance at next weekend's Gorilla Run.

Beyond Murphy's law

My school drives me nuts! If something can go wrong, it will. And it has. I am tearing my hair out at the redundancies, the miscommunication, the lack of communication and the inefficiencies of its bureaucratic systems.

It's even worse long distance. I've been kicked off the library system twice, finally having to elicit the help of a local person to get access to its resources again (in fact, I've taken to checking it every week, whether I need access or not, just to make sure they haven't kicked me off again).

I've had to submit my change of address to five different offices - one of them twice - in order to make sure I get all the communications I'm supposed to be getting.

Emails to another office have repeatedly been ignored, forcing me to call to do my business with them.

And my payment for my tuition? Sent to the wrong account! Then it took almost two weeks for them to figure out what went wrong.

Even some of my colleagues are surprised at the number of things that go wrong in MY interactions with the institution. They don't seem to have nearly as many problems and I find myself wondering what it is about my account that brings out the bugs in every system.

I take consolation in the fact that because I'm not physically there, at least they can't frustrate me by rescinding my access to the gym like they repeatedly did when I was on location. If all this isn't incentive to finish the dissertation quickly so I no longer have to deal with this particular bureaucracy, I don't know what is!

Miscellany

Even though there's plenty going on, it feels like there's not much to say.

I signed an employment contract this morning, so I guess I'm officially employed, though I'll have a better idea about what's involved and when I'll get started on Thursday after our first meeting. I'm a little nervous about the job because I've never done something like this before, but I'm also excited because it sounds real interesting. Only time will tell whether this is a good move or not, I suppose.

I also heard about a potential adjunct position in spring, which would be nice because then I'd be back in the classroom, which I've been missing a bit.

Yesterday I had a weird sense of deja vu when I returned to the university library to pick up some materials. It wasn't so much entering the library that did it but the sense of falling back into a routine. In the library tower, when you come out of the elevators onto the floor where the literature and related texts are, you have the choice of four directions to take. The eerie part was that I turned without thinking in the very direction I needed to go to find what I was looking for. It was like my body remembered where to look, even if my conscious mind didn't. It was a little weird.

And I got invited to a new book club, which I'm looking forward to, 'cause I've been missing my old one - mostly the people in it - a lot since I left.

Other than that, everything else is just humdrum usual stuff. Bored you? Yes, I know. I apologize. I'll try to do something exciting this week. But I can't promise anything.

A solid hit

To extend the "job hunt" metaphor, I think it's fair to say that I made a solid hit yesterday. It's an exciting position - instructional design - and something I've not really done before. I'm not quite celebrating yet, but the interviewer said I was at the top of the list and he would call by middle of next week when he returns from Halifax to discuss the contract.

I am grinning though...

Job hunt

Why do we call it job hunting anyway? Usually the jobs I find aren't hidden anywhere, as the hunt in treasure hunt might imply (nor are they usually treasures for that matter) and I don't exactly run them down and spear them through my prowess with a weapon of some sort, since once you send off that resume, you're no longer in charge of the process. So why do we call it a hunt?

Regardless of the answer, my "hunt" is looking more positive. I got a call for an interview tomorrow - the shocking part was that the call came only one hour after I sent off the resume! In all fairness, I only submitted it an hour and a half before the deadline for submission, but talking to the interviewer, he sounded interested. And an interview is an interview, right? I'm not sure how the interviews on Friday went - each had a hiccough - but each also had moments when I felt like I shone, so it's hard to say without knowing who's my competition.

On an amusing note, some job titles struck me as funny as I read them:
1. syrup maker (not as interesting as it sounds)
2. assistant to the executive assistant (now there's a mouthful of nothing)
3. analyst for magic software (I can only assume this is a name, not a description...)

On the inside

So this is how it is on the inside... I've attended the PCA/ACA conference three times over my graduate career. Two years ago, I presented as part of the Stephen King group, and last year with the sf/fantasy group. The King group, and by extension, the members of the horror section, are a really welcoming group of scholars, and even though I wasn't presenting with them, they invited me to the group dinner last year.

So this year, when I saw that two of my new friends were putting together a panel, I decided I've love to present something with them. Last week, all I did was send a preliminary email asking if my idea would fit with their panel and they emailed back saying, "sure, you're in... what's the title of the paper so we can publish it?"

The first time I sent an abstract off for a conference, I sweated over it for a month, ran it past two professors, and got a reference from a professor in order to bolster my proposal. Now, I just email a couple of friends, tell them what I'm thinking, and they say I'm in. What a difference from that first experience! So this is how it works when you're inside... I gotta say, it's pretty nice!

Good thing there's subtitles

Best commercial ever.

Puppet shows

But not Punch and Judy. Last night, for youngest daughter's birthday, we all went to see Ronnie Burkett's Ten Nights on Earth. Burkett is an internationally renown local puppeteer whose work we've seen before. Last night's show was no disappointment.

The show opened in Toronto and is booked for international venues as well, and so far the reviews have been favorable. Canoe.ca wrote:

But art -- good art and, by extension, the people who make good art -- should always surprise.
Judged on that criteria alone, 10 Days On Earth -- the latest work from marionette master Ronnie Burkett -- is art of the highest order.

Surprise was certainly one of the features of the show, but I would add delight, empathy and plain old hilarity to the list of adjectives as well. But others have said it better than me.

It was preview night at the theatre, which I hadn't been to since I worked there (several years ago now). There were a couple of hang ups (or "tangle-ups") that Burkett handled with true style and which just added to the enjoyment of the audience. We enjoyed ourselves very much, and if you're in Calgary and like puppets, I'd definitely recommend the show.

Reverse culture shock

Was talking to my dad this weekend, who reminded me that the biggest culture shock is the one you get when you come back. (He remember vividly the culture shock of returning from Brazil, though I mostly was oblivious because I was young) Coming back is more shocking because you expect things to be different when you go somewhere else, but you're not set up with the same kind of expectation when you come back.

And it's always the little things. Like:

motorists who stop for you when you're in the crosswalk

The Tragically Hip (thanks to Canadian content rules!)

pockets full of coins that add up to more than a cup of coffee

needing a coin to get your shopping cart out (but you do get it back)

dual language video covers (though this is mostly new out west)

And then there's the shock of coming back to a city whose population has exploded in the last four years. The traffic is just a bit slower everywhere, there are neighborhoods I've never even heard of, and there are labour shortages everywhere. It's actually quite severe in the service sector.

We drove up to a Wendy's today thinking we could quickly run through the drive through, but there was a sign there instead that said "Due to inadequate staffing, the drive through window is not open. Please go to the dining room to place your order. Thank you for your patience" While the A & W across the street is operating on reduced hours for the same reason. It's absolutely amazing.

And how is my job search going? Well thank you for asking! I've had two telephone pre-interview screenings - one I didn't get a call back from and the other I'm still waiting on. I also have an interview scheduled for Friday. So it's slowly picking up. The telephone screening this afternoon was for a job I'd very much like, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up in case she doesn't call back. I'm just thankful that we're in the position that I don't have to jump at the first call I get but I can wait to find something I really like.

The cost of paper

I've been transferring my amazon wish list from .com to .ca (yeah, I know, I don't have a job, but it's helping me organize my dissertation thoughts). It doesn't make much sense to me to stay with the the US version of the site, but I'm very puzzled by the price differences between the two.

Take for example this book:

on .com it retails for $13.57 US
but on .ca, it retails for $131.50 CDN

That's one hundred and seventeen dollars and ninety-three cents more! Almost ten times as much!

WHY?

It can't be that paper costs more here... we're the ones with all the trees!

(lucky for me, the university here has a copy that I can get my hands on...)

Ahhh... the irony

As soon as we arrived here, I started seeing these smart cars on the streets. They sure stand out in a land of SUVs, half tons and Hummers, so we checked one out today. They are really fun to drive!

It's ironic that the place where I've seen the most of these little cars - which can get up to 90 mpg on the highway - is the place where the economy's been booming because of oil. The dealership has less than 10 left and are taking orders for delivery in March!

Box break

I'm taking a break from boxes to job search... but that's just making me realize how labour intensive that activity is in itself! I swear it takes me an hour to revise my resume and write a cover letter for each position! At this rate, it'll take me till tomorrow just to make it through the list of jobs I want to apply for... and then I suppose they'll be new postings!

It's also very weird to dust off my non-teaching skills as I prepare letters for non-teaching positions. I realize I've forgotten half of what I know, because I'll read a job description and it will suddenly occur to me that I worked a job where I did that particular kind of task seven years ago, and I'll have to add that into my resume so that I've at least got a shot at the position. It's a strange feeling because it keeps reminding me of my life before I started on this academic path, which feels sometimes like someone else's life...

There's tons of service type jobs around here - there are places that are advertising $1-2/hr. differentials if you'll sign up to work fulltime rather than just partime, and there are other businesses that have had to cut back their hours or actually close locations because they can't find people to work in their stores. But I'm not applying for those jobs. The ones I'm applying for are at about the same levels as they've always been, which means competition for some of them might be really tight, but if I send out enough resumes, eventually I'll get some bites. I just hope the ones that call me are the more interesting ones and not the ones that I sent a 'safety' resume to.

Not even remotely settled yet

Even though unpacking always takes less time than packing, it's taking forever this time!

We spent last Friday shopping for furniture and bought a few pieces which we picked up last Sunday when we had the moving truck. With the new furniture, we had to make two trips, but got it all done in one day, which I was impressed with. I thought it was some kind of sign that we'd be all settled in by the next weekend. But here we are at the end of the next weekend, and I'm still blogging surrounded by boxes.

It's taking a long time to get all this done. I've given up on setting a goal for completion, and am just going to take it as it comes. This house is bigger than any place I've ever lived before, and it's more than twice the size of the last place we were living in (which doesn't actually say much about the last place) so it's odd to get used to how much elbow room we all have. I haven't unpacked a single box of books yet, so that might change though!

My sister and family came over yesterday, which gave us the impetus to clear space around the dining and kitchen tables, which we desperately needed to do, and we had fun playing host to their family (especially since we ended up at their place for 10 days! My sister, she's a saint! Actually, her whole family is!). Oldest daughter came over too and stayed the night, and it was nice to have her around, even if it was just for a few hours.

I'm looking forward to the day when I wake up and my first thought is NOT about what I'm going to unpack today!

Roof over our heads

We finally found a place to live - signed the lease this afternoon. It's nice... very nice and I'm excited about moving in. We get access to it on Saturday and have a truck booked for Sunday, so by the end of the long weekend, we should be settled.

Well, we're here

We're in Calgary. We lost most of day 3 of the trip sitting on the side of the road and waiting at a mall in Illinois while the fan belt on the truck was replaced.

We're desperately trying to find a place to live. We managed to see only 2 places today, even though we called almost two dozen listings. We're hoping for a good dose of luck because it's risky not to take something right away because places are going in a single day. We have three possibilities to look at tomorrow, so hopefully one of them will be good and we'll unload our truck tomorrow or by Saturday.

Wish us luck. More later when I'm blogging on my own account. In the meantime, you can get an idea of how tense the rental situation is around here by reading the 'greedy landlords' thread on the local craigslist.

Enroute

Sitting in a hotel room in Buffalo, NY getting ready to start day 2 of epic trek back to Alberta. The UHAUL truck was smoking as I came through the toll booth last night, so keep you fingers crossed for us that it keeps running, or that if there is a problem, it's a minor one.

Northwest

Looks like we're Calgary bound! Those of you in those parts, look for us to arrive in a week and a half or so. Posting will likely be sparse till then. Wish us a smooth move, okay?

Changes

Happy civic holiday Albertans!

Unfortunately, because of your holiday, I'm still waiting to hear where we're going to live... but hopefully we'll figure it out soon! I haven't blogged much about moving because there's not much to say. We don't know where we're going, and there's not much I can do other than put things in boxes until I know where we're going. At that point, I have a huge list! Every day I think of another thing to add to it, which is a bit scary just because it is getting a bit long, particularly if our move will require crossing an international border, but I try not to think about it and just concentrate on putting stuff in boxes... I guess that summer job I had two years ago was good practice...

Rafting on the Bow

The other week while I was in Calgary, we drove across a bridge spanning the Bow River, and both of us caught our breath noticing everyone floating down the river.

Now that's a way to spend a Sunday afternoon! Drive one car down to the weir and park it - drive the other one up to Bowness Park, pull out the raft and let yourself drift downstream till you reach the first car. Such a fabulous way to spend an afternoon!


It's impossible to wear a watch or worry about the time, because you're at the mercy of the current. Sure, you take an oar, but it's not for propelling. You only dig it out if you get stuck in one of the shallow parts.

I've discovered that this seems to be a uniquely Calgarian thing to do. There's lots of other cities with rivers running through them, but very few that seem to have developed a river floating culture.

Of course Calgary takes it and makes it big with the annual Bow River Raft Race, which gives you some idea of what it's like when there are several other rafters on the river. You definitely don't want to forget the supersoaker at home!

Blogging in academia

This time, the shoe's on the other foot.

Certainly the blog has been a political force for several years already - I won't say since it's inception, since the earliest blogs usually focused on a filtering function - surfing the web for interesting items then linking to them - but the usenet group's politics has spilled over into the blog format for quite a while now. Guess it just goes to show how the ivory tower invades every aspect of academia that the political power of the blog is just now being felt.

Dog days of August

I am hiding in my house for the rest of the day. My weather page says:

Excessive heat warning in effect until 8 PM EDT this evening...
Heat advisory in effect from 11 am to 5 PM EDT Thursday...

Besides, there's still lots to be packed.

Ohio bound

I'm heading off to Ohio for a wedding tomorrow. When I first heard of the wedding, I was very excited to hear the news... oddly, I found out about it in the exact same spot as I'd heard about another wedding two years before. Strange coincidence that.

I'm nervous about this wedding. I've been asked to play piano for it. When I first agreed, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, but a lot of details have changed, and now I'm a little nervous about it. I'll be on a keyboard, not a piano, which I know will sound different - I'm just hoping it's one of those high quality boards that sounds pretty close.

I'm also playing two more songs than I originally thought, and accompanying a singer, which I've never done before, so I'm a bit nervous about the newness of that experience. We haven't practiced together yet - we'll get the chance the day before the wedding - so I'm just hoping we both are on the same page re: pacing etc. The singer sent me a copy of the music she's working from, so at least we don't have to worry about transposition or instrument differences with the music we're each working from.

I've also got a head cold. It actually feels a bit better today, but yesterday I was so fuzzy headed I was really butchering the songs as I was practicing. I'm going downstairs to practice now - I hope today's practicing goes better. I'm also really hoping the head cold clears for the wedding and flight. Both will be miserable affairs if it doesn't.

The law can be fun!

I considered law school briefly as an undergraduate, but didn't think I had what it takes to succeed. Apparently, it's not quite as difficult as I thought it was...

I usually don't read legal judgements, but this one (link to pdf) is just too funny. A couple of excerpts:

Before proceeding further, the Court notes that this case involves two extremely likable lawyers, who have together delivered some of the most amateurish pleadings ever to cross the hallowed causeway into Galveston, an effort which leads the Court to surmise but one plausible explanation. Both attorneys have obviously entered into a secret pact--complete with hats, handshakes and cryptic words--to draft their pleadings entirely in crayon on the back sides of gravy-stained paper place mats, in the hope that the Court would be so charmed by their child-like efforts that their utter dearth of legal authorities in their briefing would go unnoticed.

After this remarkably long walk on a short legal pier, having received no useful guidance whatever from either party, the Court has endeavored, primarily based upon its affection for both counsel, but also out of its own sense of morbid curiosity, to resolve what it perceived to be the legal issue presented. Despite the waste of perfectly good crayon seen in both parties' briefing (and the inexplicable odor of wet dog emanating from such) the Court believes it has satisfactorily resolved this matter. Defendant's Motion for Summary Judgment is GRANTED.

Ouch! Despite the legalese, it's worth reading for passages like this.

I suppose if this professor thing doesn't work out, I could go into law instead... at least I'd have the sense to use markers and construction paper...

Back

I'm exhausted. I sit here trying to put together my thoughts, but the only one that keeps running through my head is "I'm exhausted" The trouble with going to Calgary is that we know enough people that anything short of a week means we're out all day... and most of the nights!

It's not even that there's that many people to see - just that there are too many to see them all in only a couple of days. I missed meeting up with one really good friend just because she was busy and we were busy and by the time we could've got together, I had no more time left. I'm very sorry I didn't get to talk to her. I really wish I had. But it didn't work out.

So I regret not seeing her, and sit here with a brain full of fuzzy cotton (sis, I'm thinking of your dream now too!) trying to think of something intelligent to say. Good thing teaching this morning was the same ol' same ol' otherwise I would've been lost.

Travelling so far, especially from one country to another always does amaze me though. As we rode home from the airport, I couldn't help but notice how different that ride felt from the one to the airport in Calgary. Even the air smells different here. I'm sure much of it is just my awareness that things are different, but each place still feels distinctly different.

But perhaps I should wait to blog something intelligent when I'm actually feeling more intelligent!

Barely blogging

This time tomorrow I'll be somewhere over... Montana, maybe? En route to Calgary, at any rate. Blogging will be even briefer than it has been lately. Too much life getting in the way.

We're checking out jobs, seeing old friends, and seeing oldest daughter in her new element, which I'm totally looking forward to! I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but it's been so weird to think she's living somewhere else, I haven't got my head wrapped round it yet. Hopefully we'll get to see everyone that we want to see, even if only briefly. One friend I haven't seen for the four years we've been gone. We've had virtual coffee... you know, where we're both drinking coffee while IM-ing, but it's not the same. So we'll have f2f coffee, which I'm really looking foward to.

But I guess I'll have to tell you all about it when I get back.

Huh?

There's something highly ironic about writing the following comment on a student paper discussing the importance of clear communication between medical professionals:

This is unclear here – is it the PTs who are using new procedures, or the doctors who are performing new procedures? You need to clarify who’s doing what here and who needs to communicate more clearly.

Ahh... Mr. Bulwer-Lytton's spirit strikes again

I love reading this list every year!

The winner is:

Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
Jim Guigli
Carmichael, CA

I've got to admire the skill of the entrants... or perhaps some of these are genuine attempts at opening lines!? The annual Bulwer-Lytton contest provides some fabulous entries. The winner was typical of Bulwer-Lytton, but several of the runners-up and dishonorable mentions were more flexible with the form. I realized as I was reading through them that I needed to put down my coffee cup or risk shorting out my keyboard!

Some of my favorites?

"I know what you're thinking, punk," hissed Wordy Harry to his new editor, "you're thinking, 'Did he use six superfluous adjectives or only five?' - and to tell the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement; but being as this is English, the most powerful language in the world, whose subtle nuances will blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' - well do you, punk?"
Stuart Vasepuru
Edinburgh, Scotland

Lisa moved like a cat, not the kind of cat that moves with a slinky grace but more like the kind that always falls off the book shelf when he's washing himself and then gets all mad at you like it's your fault (which it wasn't although it probably was kind of mean to laugh at him like that), although on the bright side, she hardly ever attacked Ricky's toes in his sleep.
Debra Allen
Wichita Falls, TX

Sex with Rachel after she turned fifty was like driving the last-place team on the last day of the Iditarod Dog Sled Race, the point no longer the ride but the finish, the difficulty not the speed but keeping all the parts moving in the right direction, not to mention all that irritating barking.
Dan Winters
Los Altos Hills, CA

It was just another day at the office aboard "StarCruise" until David spotted a tiny speck in his passenger window, approaching from the direction of the Masai Nebula and making a right angle with bisector of the isosceles formed if you joined Bendy's Star, Planet Anet, and White Hole 14437-5A, but sighed peacefully as it turned out to be the reflection of the fluorescent light swinging loose above Captain Mudlove's head.
Talha bin Hamid
Karachi, Pakistan

The goose waddled slowly, heavily, across the road, exactly the way my mother-in-law would if she were a goose.
Mary Montiel
Wichita, KS

Twas brillig, and the toves were not just slithy, they were stinking drunk.
Richard A. Polunsky
Houston TX

Her romance ended, not a quick separation but like the gradually fading white dot on one of those old black-and-white vacuum tube TVs when it's turned off; and she was glad, because she felt uneasy in his arms and required as many adjustments to the "horizontal hold" and "vertical hold" as when she would stay up late watching scary shows like "Twilight Zone" and "Outer Limits" long ago.
Charles Wells
Albuquereque, NM

I saw her from across the room and knew I had to meet her, not because of her ample bosom, or her full lips, or her beautiful creamy skin, or the way her hair was twisted into a nice tight bun, or the buttoned-up blouse that begged to be torn off her body, or the skirt that was perhaps a size too small, but because she was my kid's teacher and I was here for the parent-teacher conference.
Lori Yates
Kezier, OR

I don't know what's worse, the packing or the moving

We still don't know for sure where we'll be in a month. All I know is that we'll be somewhere else, so it all has to get packed. Packing is always a longer, more tiring, and dirtier job than you ever think it will be when you start. It's not like I move my bookshelves every few months to clean behind them... they sure can accumulate dust bunnies back there, that's for sure!

Keeping a sense of humor helps - over the dozens of times I've moved, I can vouch for everyone one of these:

Murphy's Laws of Moving
By: Sheila Moss

1. No matter how many boxes you have, you will never have enough.

2. The more your friends promise to help, the more likely it is they will be deathly ill or out of town the weekend you are moving.

3. Whatever it is that you need, it is always in the bottom of a box that has already been taped shut.

4. Now that you are moving and no longer need it, you will always find something you have been looking for for years.

5. The tape, the scissors, the markers and the screwdriver all know how to play hide ‘n’ seek.

6. The thing that gets broken will always be an irreplaceable antique heirloom - never something cheap that you didn't like anyway.

7. Regardless of long the drought has been going on, it will always rain on moving day.

8. You will always lose your checkbook, your car keys, the remote control or the telephone.

9. If you stay up all night packing to be ready for the movers, they will be late.

10. No matter how large the new place is, it will shrink before you move in.

Trivia(l) movies

Who would've known?

Apparently, a group of Northeastern students made a pretty good movie. At least, Campus MovieFest seems to think it was a great idea. Apparently,

A film created by five students from Northeastern University for Campus MovieFest, the world's largest student film festival, was selected as one of sixteen films to air at the International Grand Finale at the Atlanta Film Festival.

The movie, called Tangent, is actually kinda interesting. Some of the aesthetic choices seem a bit cliched, but it is kinda neat to recognize local places (I swear I've parked in that exact same parking spot as the one featured in the parking garage scene!)

Speaking of interesting movies, I also watched The Calcium Kid today. I was surprised during channel surfing to see Orlando Bloom in it, and assumed it was an early film of his. But then I recognized Rafe Spall (from Shaun of the Dead, of course, I recognized him!) and later Billie Piper from Dr. Who, and went to check the credits. 2004. After LOTR. I must say, it was an interesting choice for Bloom, and a role he performed fairly well, given the slightly shallow nature of the script.

It's a mockumentary. If the title reminds you of The Karate Kid, it should. And they shamelessly riff on Rocky. But it was time well spent. Might even be worth throwing on your Netflix or Blockbuster account... not too high mind you, but it was an amusing way to spend a couple of hours. Perhaps you too will be amused.

No name post

My creativity has ebbed with my energy, thus no post title... the post itself might not be much better...

Oldest daughter should be arriving at her destination soon. We woke at 3:30 am to get her to the airport on time. She actually had three friends show up to accompany her in the limo - yes, she had a gift certificate for a free limo ride to the airport. They gave them to all the students who were leaving to go to school - how nice! First time I've ever been in a limo. Very nice. I could get used to it. Then again, my parents always did tell me I had expensive tastes... I've just never had the budget to indulge them!

Firecracker fiends were setting off squealers and poppers till long after midnight though. Very little sleep = lack of creativity.

I did cry. But just a little. She did too. Even while she was telling me not to. It's kinda nice to know she'll miss me at the same time as I'm missing her.

I also discovered that it is only the Dunkin Donuts near my school that are open at 6 am - ugh!

My students got what little energy I had this morning, which is reassuring, because if I had to teach at this moment, I'd have nothing.

I just missed a lucrative summer job offer by ten minutes. If I'd gotten home ten minutes earlier, I could have at least considered whether or not to take it. As is, the point is moot - the position is filled now. Too bad. I would've liked the choice.

What little energy still remained this afternoon was used up emailing my landlord and telling her that "no, I am not willing to move half my household items to a storage facility for a month, then go and pick them up again, just so that the house looks larger without so much furniture in it" sheesh! I know she wants to sell the place as soon as possible after we leave, but it's still my living space in the meantime.

Less than 24 hours

Less than a day till oldest daughter will be living in another country.

WOW.

I'm experiencing several emotions, anxiety/sadness/stress, but I don't think it's really sunk in yet. I haven't had much time to really sit back and think about it because I've been busy harassing her to finish packing up all her stuff before she goes. She's taking two HUGE suitcases! (I hope our bathroom scale is accurate because they're almost at the weight limit) The rest we'll ship to her wherever she'll be in fall... *sigh* that sounds sooo familiar!

I'm sure tomorrow will feel different. Right now, I'm just hoping I'm awake enough to accompany her to the airport at 4 am. I'm not much of a morning person...

I'm a big believer in prevention

When I worked loss prevention, we stressed methods of preventing shoplifting rather than detecting it... mostly by making shoppers aware that someone was watching.

When it comes to students and plagiarism, if Turnitin makes them aware someone's watching and reduces the temptation to cheat, I'm all for it too.

Overall, I'm satisfied with the software and plan to continue to use it. It does give quite a few false positives, but a teacher with half a brain can figure out that those aren't plagiarism. When it discovers that my student wrote "Langston Hughes wrote 'A Negro Speaks of Rivers' in 1921..." and a student at a high school in Ohio wrote the exact same sentence, I know enough to realize this is coincidence. It's not exactly great writing, but it's functional and there aren't many other ways of saying the same thing.

I also selected the option to ignore quoted material, since that just identified all the quotes in the paper. I really didn't need it to do that for me.

Now my students papers are part of that huge database of papers they run all the new submissions against. I wonder what they'll make of the student who submitted a paper that started out talking about Frost but ended with a narrative of how the speaker met the love of his life in an Outback Steakhouse restaurant? It's a hoot! It almost rivals "Don't be Panic"... which is still in my mind the best student paper ever! When I get depressed about what my students are doing, all I do is play the video and it makes me feel so much better! (thanks to rlt for the reminder)

The "doctor" and the doctor

I can't help but be amused that Kevin Warwick at University of Reading has created a robotic dalek... I giggle.

Warwick is the guy who implanted a chip into his forearm in an effort to begin developing real world applications of cybernetic implants. The most unusual thing I've read that he has suggested is the possibility of implants in different people communicating with each other. Apparently his wife has volunteered to have herself implanted as well and they're going to try to communicate through the implants via computer. It all sounds very interesting. I wonder if he'll be talking about it when he visits MIT in September? If I'm here and can scrape together the registration fee, it certainly would be interesting to hear him speak about it!

Smell o vision?

According to this article at New Scientist, a group of researchers in Tokyo have developed a odour recorder capable of recording scents and reproducing them when required. I don't know what all you'd use it for, but it sounds pretty cool!

If I had one of those, I could attach the smell of a maple leaf.. or maybe beer... or just a good old barbeque... in celebration of a Happy Canada Day!

I'm exhausted

Yes, if you look at the post time, it's 11:45. a.m. It's not today that's exhausted me, but the last week... month... maybe even year...

Sandy's farewell/graduation/belated birthday party was this weekend, which went off with only a few hitches. A forecast of thundershowers meant we brought everyone back to our place - thank god a few people didn't end up coming! - and splitting people into two "shifts" (because she had 50 people on the guest list... if you've ever seen our place, you know it can't accommodate anywhere near that many people!)

Of course, not a drop of rain fell the whole time, let along thundershowers.

The shifts idea was a bit stressful because it meant it felt like two parties in a row. It also meant I did none of the huge pile of marking I had to do once it was all over, so I spent Sunday marking papers... and Monday actually... which put me in a right rotten mood when I walked into the final exam I gave yesterday.

Being bombarded by five students who all had different requests (and didn't come by my office but waited till I walked into the exam room) most of which were either a) minor, or b) left till much too late, didn't help the matter either.

Students take note: asking your teacher if you can convert the class to pass/fail moments before the final exam begins, is not under ANY circumstances cool.

Most of the marking was for that course I took over last week. I'd taught the same course last year, so I figured it wouldn't be hard, but I hadn't figured on the first instructor not only using strange assignments I'd never seen before, but also requiring that the students follow a draconian report style that requires them to force their material into a format that doesn't work well for every report. I learnt yesterday that my approach of 'do what works best for your project' was a shock (albeit a pleasant ones for those who discussed it with me) that they've had to adjust to. So despite my efforts to make the transition as seamless as possible, just my pedagogical style has meant the students have had to change course. I'm hoping based on the response from the few I've talked to that it will work out in the long run, but it's still been rough.

On top of all this, we want to get a family portait done (before my family disperses to all ends of the globe... well, okay, North America... for the summer) and we're moving, though we don't know where to yet. All we know is that my handsome partner in crime will be getting a new job now that he's graduated, and we're gonna try to 'move on up' at the same time. All I know is that I need to leave this place by mid August. Thank goodness! It's been nice and all while we've been here, but it really is a cramped space and we're hoping to gain a bit more square footage wherever we go so that it doesn't feel like we're just moving the stuff around in an endless circle trying to make room for various activities.

This whole year has been busy for us though. With two graduations in the house, the studying that goes into those, finishing my exams, trying to put together a prospectus and dissertation committee, preparing oldest daughter for transition to another country, teaching a lit course (fun! but LOTS of extra work), and everything else with everyone else, it's been a very full year.

When the kids were born, I thought the sleep deprivation was bad, but the exhaustion of keeping up with and track of teenagers rivals it... or maybe I'm just older... either way, it's been a ride this year!

We need to plan ourselves a vacation!

They say something about laughter and medicine?

** Annual English Teachers' awards for best student metaphors/analogies found in actual student papers:


Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law George. But unlike George, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Take a break from the ordinary

Sounds like a travel ad: "Take a break from the ordinary" but there really is nothing like a break from the usual routine to shake you up and make you realize that your life has been rather ordinary for the last while. Ordinary isn't a bad thing, it's just really easy to slip into it without knowing.

Sometimes I treasure ordinariness (for example, after our hectic and stressful cross country move I was almost cried with joy at the end of a day when I realized it was the first time I hadn't felt homesick all day). But sometimes it just starts to make you dull. You do the same thing over and over again until you don't even notice that you're not growing and learning anymore.

Today I think I must have done some growing, or at least should have, because it wasn't an ordinary day.

I suppose it actually began on Thursday afternoon. As I was teaching the poetry class, I saw one of the writing program directors in the hall. I assumed he was there to talk to my colleague across the hall, but he waved me out of my classroom. I suppose I was more curious than anything, so I met with him. He asked me if I would take over a class right away. I said I had to consult with my family, but would call him the next day and I did to say I'd do it. They seemed pretty desperate to cover this class, and I'd taught the same one last summer, so I figured it'd be pretty easy.

He told me they were replacing the existing teacher because she'd failed to attend the last three classes. When I found out two days later who it was, I was surprised, because I knew this instructor (mostly by reputation) and she didn't seem like a flake. There might be other adjectives for her, but flake is never one I've heard applied in her situation.

So I walked into the classroom this morning and got the students to start telling me about the course. Strange way to begin a relationship with a group of students, and I felt slightly less authoritative than normal because I had to rely on them to tell me what they were doing.

The class is behind by a good bit, and the students are going to have to work steadily through the remainder to make up for it. I'm trying to figure out how to keep it from feeling like punishment for their teacher bailing on them.

Then I had a very relaxing and highly enjoyable dinner/writing discussion with friends. I realized that I've been relaxing far too little lately, because the enforced relaxation of just sitting around seemed strange at first. But I did get used to it, and boy did it feel good!

And then?

All I can say is neither Tampa Bay nor Raleigh have naturally occurring ice.

There's something wrong with the universe.

Pity this busy monster

I have these drafts of posts sitting here but feel like I've no time to do them justice... maybe I never will. Instead I give you some e e cummings:

pity this busy monster, manunkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim (death and life safely beyond)

plays with the bigness of his littleness
--- electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend

unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.

A world of made
is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh

and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical

ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; let's go

cybernetic versification?

I'm reading a summary of T.S. Eliot's biography (and skimming quickly at that) for Tuesday's class, when I read that he was influenced by the philosophy of Henri Bergson, which gets me thinking about Benedict Anderson's argument that modern time is "empty homogenous time" ... and that gets me googling Bergsonian time, to compare it to, only to find out that Norbert Weiner used it as a model for time as it is experienced by cybernetic organisms, and that it has become a standard of sorts in all kinds [pdf] of cybernetic studies.

See? It all comes back to the robots!

I hate this part of the job

I'm reading the proposals my students posted to Blackboard - which range all over the place from concise, well thought out questions, to vague 'I gotta get some books from the library' kinds of rambles - when I come across one that sends my radar into overdrive.

You see, the proposal sounds... well, it sounds like something a graduate student would write... not something a student who almost failed the midterm would write. Now, I accept that a midterm test which requires the application of learned facts to a problem (scansion) and memorization (match this passage to who wrote it) is a very different thing than typing up something at your leisure. But this proposal was just too slick to sound right.

So I set up the paper as a Turnitin assignment. It's a nifty new (and as I understand, expensive) service that scans papers for "originality" and gives you an "originality" score for the paper. I've never used the feature before, but it strikes me as a much more efficient way to check for overlapping sources than the old google it yourself routine.

I really hate it that I even have to do this.

I also realize that there is some controversy about this product. My alma mater has decided not to adopt it, but their reasoning strikes me as only partly thought out.

Dr. Patterson [Associate VP Student Affairs]also pointed out Turnitin.com can't distinguish between intentional and accidental plagiarism.

"I think it's really hard to determine where it's actual plagiarism--where there's an actual attempt to deceive--and how much of it is lack of information on how to do it properly," she explained.

What their objections ignore is the teacher. Hello? You know, the teacher? The person who has trained for a decade or more to be in the position they're in? I agree that Turnitin could produce false positives. This is partly the objection of a McGill student who challenged that school's use of the service. He objected to Turnitin's mission to "help students take more responsibility for learning, and let teachers focus on teaching." (which is why I'm using it - my time is much too valuable to spend hours googling phrases from papers!):

"That statement is basically saying that students, if given the opportunity, will plagiarize, and they're forced to prove they didn't plagiarize before their paper is even looked at"

But that's where the teacher's intelligence and discretion comes in. Just as in any other case of a plagiarism charge, the teacher needs to present evidence that the plagiarism took place. And the teacher still has the option to confront the student about unintentional plagiarism (and Turnitin has an option that allows you to resubmit a student paper in such a case).

The thing that the opponents at U of C seem to be ignoring is that Turnitin is just one of many tools a teacher will use during their career. Their knowledge of the subject matter, their evaluation of the student's performance outside the case in question, and institutional policies will all come into play in a plagiarism case. They're acting as if a bad score on Turnitin will AUTOMATICALLY translate into a failing grade, no ifs, ands, buts, or maybes. No teacher discretion. If there's no institutional policy that says that's the case, and no institutional mechanism intercepting originality scores before the teacher gets ahold of the paper, then the teacher has the option of examining the paper more closely and ignoring the report, or challenging the student about it at which time the student has the opportunity to respond to the charge.

Yes, in an ideal world, there would be no need for Turnitin. In an ideal world, there would be no need for traffic cops to enforce laws because everyone would obey them. In an ideal world, I could open any email message I receive without fear of damaging my computer.

But this ain't an ideal world. It's the real one. And sometimes, the actions of a few people, spoil it for the rest of us. That's life.

Personal Notes

• Oldest daughter received first acceptance letter in the mail yesterday - there was much rejoicing! It isn't her first choice, but she's in and grandparents are less than an hour away for visits/support etc.
  
  We discovered a glitch in communication between countries when one of the other schools sent a rejection letter last week, saying she didn't have the basic requirements. Problem was just that the requirement went by a different name here, so we sent off explanatory letters to them and everyone else hoping that solves the problem.
  
  
• Hubby is writing Canadian licensing exam this weekend. I would've loved to go with him, but he flew out about four hours before youngest daughter came home from D.C. and one of us had to be here to pick her up and drive her home.
  
  
• Youngest daughter had a great time in D.C. - unlike here, the weather was hot and sunny the whole time. It was probably the first time she's been away without another family member around, so it was a good growing experience.
  
  
• Oldest daughter had made arrangements for room and board with a friend over the summer, so was beginning her job search based on these arrangements. Now, suddenly, the family may need to move and if they are in a smaller place, they will not have room for her and we'll have to make alternate arrangements. It's not so much that we have to change plans, but that we have to change them at the last minute.
  
  
• I am far too sentimental. I sorted some old receipts this weekend, and some of the receipts reminded me of places or people who I'd been with when I'd made the purchase. I found myself feeling a bit nostalgic about the times/places those receipts represented. Usually you'd expect photographs to trigger fond memories, not receipts - goes to show how anal I am about keeping them I guess [in all fairness though, I've been audited by Student Finance twice during my student years and by Revenue Canada three times in my life - twice during the time we've lived out of country and those receipts have saved me a world of grief when that happens]

Just a matter of degree?

A good journalistic sense will sometimes compel a writer to sensationalize a subject - create an eye catching headline, or start off with a sensational first sentence, or even a ridiculous cartoon. Just like this article, "Among the Transhumanists: Cyborgs, self-mutilators and the Future of our Race" from Slate does.

The second paragraph asks the question: Why do we shrug at botox, liposuction, and circumcision? but get grossed out by guys like Lizardman? What seems at first a rhetorical question actually becomes a way of mocking transhumanists for being just too "weird", essentially too idealistic or irrational "incoherent" and just plain "creepy"

The article ends on a derisive note, dismissing even the mildest claims to the betterment of the human race (and isn't this what countless doctors, philosophers, educators, philanthropists etc. have been doing for ages already?) by presenting them alongside the most outrageous.

But when you think of it,
the difference between lizardman's brow ridge implants and a buttock implant really aren't that different. Both are cosmetic modifications that change the shape of the body by inserting an implant below the skin/muscle.

I understand that on one level it's about societal notions of beauty, the acceptance of female body modification for those aims and a host of other social factors, but once you peel all that away, seems to me it's really just a matter of degree.

Up Down Up Down

On Tuesday, I began the following rant:

I just had one of the worst teaching days ever! Yes, I know I said that only about a month ago, but this one was worse!

What made it worse was not so much the actual class, even though the students were woefully unprepared for class itself, but the fact that this was the day my supervisor was sitting in on class. It felt like I was pulling teeth to get them to talk (and I know someone who pulls teeth and he makes it sound easier than this was) Then there were the several times when I felt awkward, out of control, and like I was talking a different language - one the students themselves didn't speak.... which I suppose is what I was doing, since I was talking poetry language, and they hadn't even read the poems I was talking about!

I couldn't figure it out at first. I thought maybe I was more nervous than usual because my supervisor was there (even though I only felt marginally nervous by the time class started) and that's why class seemed to be limping along, but then at one point I just stopped and asked how many hadn't read the poems. Half the class admitted to it, which means that probably 3/4 of them didn't actually read.

We didn't even have anything due today. What are they going to be like on the day the paper's due?

I despair.

And today?

Today was better. Not stellar. But soooo much better than Tuesday. Either the students who hadn't read the material masked it better, or they actually had read it.

Maybe it was me. I was so disgusted with the class on Tuesday that when I walked into the classroom, all I could think about is how much I really didn't want to be there and how unfair it was that the students could skip class whenever they didn't want to go, but the teacher can't. And then the first thing I get from them is that some of them couldn't figure out how to find the online source. Hello?! We've been downloading stuff for weeks! Does this mean you haven't downloaded anything? Or that you've forgotten everything you know about downloading?

It's a good thing no one sits in the front row because otherwise they would've heard me grind my teeth when I turned to the board to write a few notes.

But then things changed. The students started talking. One particularly brilliant one gave such a concise and descriptive summary of the first reading, that all I said was 'great! that sums it up' and moved on.

I wonder if it was the humor of the situation? After all, the second poem we talked about was called "Souvenir de Monsieur Poop"... trying saying that to a class with a straight face!

They did think that Stevie Smith's poem reminded them of Shel Silverstein's, and many of them were fans of his... my kids are fans of his too, which makes me feel so much older than those students now...


On the other hand, I did also only have three quarters of the students there, which might account for why it went as well as it did - the slackers stayed home so they weren't dead weight in the classroom.

Minding someone else's business

A few minutes ago, I was sitting studying, feeling a little tired of all the reading I'd been doing when I hear this very strange thud from outside. Normally, I don't respond to much going on outside unless I'm lying in wait for a delivery truck, or someone is actually banging on part of my house, but the thud I heard was an unusual one.

I couldn't think of anything that would make such a sound.

So I got up and looked out the window - anything for a study break, right?

Imagine my surprise when I see a body at the bottom of the stairs leading to our house!

We ran outside, ferrying towels, first aid kit and umbrellas. I called hubby since he's the one with the most medical training in the house while I called 911.

It was one of our neighbors. I've talked to her only a couple of times. She's retired, used to own a wine store (hence we had something to talk about) and lives about six houses down.

She should be okay. She was able to stand, so her back wasn't hurt. She was very disoriented though, which is why the paramedics hauled her off... that, and she needed stitches to the side of her head and her nose was probably broken.

My willingness to suspend studying for the smallest thing - in this case a thud - worked out for the best this time. She'd fallen down a flight of three stairs, but the stairs are there because the front yard slopes, and it would've been difficult to see her from the street, or anywhere other than our house or the neighbor's (which is empty right now). So if I hadn't gotten up and looked out the window, she could've laid there a long time without anyone noticing.

It kinda feels good to know we could help someone today.

I don't understand

Seeing as two people near to my heart are visiting Washington D.C. in the next month, I was having a conversation about the whitehouse and tours with one of them. She pointed out that there is a very strange list of prohibited items if you take a White House tour (which she unfortunately can't because she's a foreign national).

They include:

handbags, book bags, backpacks, purses, food and beverages of any kind, strollers, cameras, video recorders or any type of recording device, tobacco products, personal grooming items (make-up, hair brush or comb, lip or hand lotions, etc.), any pointed objects (pens, knitting needles, etc.), aerosol containers, guns, ammunition, fireworks, electric stun guns, mace, martial arts weapons/devices, or knives of any size

While the weapons certainly make sense, just as the pointed objects and aerosol containers, I'm not sure what kind of damage a hair brush could do. I've seen some bad hairdos, including that oh-so-brief flirtation with backcombing in the 80s, but really, if someone were to backcomb Mr. Pres's hair, they really couldn't make him look any more ridiculous than this.