QuItE cOnTrArY

Leaving Academia

2009-05-19T16:41:00.000-05:00

Here's a thought: http://www.leavingacademia.com/

the past, secrets, and freedom

2009-02-16T20:05:00.005-05:00

I was pleasantly surprised to find a quote from Michelle Wallace that I had scribbled in my journal a while back:

It is my conviction that the only way to avoid repeatingg the mistakes of the past is to openly discuss them. Whether in nations, families or individuals, the practice of being on speaking terms with your past lives is the only thing that makes it possible to trust yourself or anybody else. Freedom, liberation, happiness, and fulfillment don't come naturally. Rather they must be struggled for moment by moment against the tide of institutionalization, commodification, and repression.

I love that idea of "being on speaking terms with your past."

...and reproductive justice for all...

2009-02-11T17:40:00.004-05:00

For quite some time I've been a supporter of the idea of "reproductive justice," a concept that arose over several decades from the activism of women of color for whom access to safe and affordable abortion is not the only pressing reproductive concern; instead, reproductive justice advocates argue that wealth should not determine one's access to a full range of reproductive choices. Practically, this position argues that poor women and women of color should not be coerced into having abortions or into being sterilized; hypothetically, reproductive justice advocates have argued that poor women and women of color should also have access to reproductive technologies (such as in vitro fertilization) and should not be barred from such access due to wealth.

What to make of Nadya Suleman and Dr. Michael Kamrava? Suleman, living on disability assistance and already supporting six children (some with special needs) conceived through artificial insemination, was implanted with octuplets (by Kamrava), which she recently delivered. According to inflammatory media coverage, residents of California are universally outraged and balking at the suggestion that their taxes foot the bill for Suleman's brood's lengthy hospitalization and future upkeep.

Suleman has been represented at best as obsessed and at worst as irresponsible and unstable.

Is this what reproductive justice advocates had in mind? Well, probably not. Still, I think her story is fascinating. My (futile) wish is that Suleman's example, rather than reifying classist beliefs that middle-class white women make "good" mothering decisions while poor women inevitably make "bad" mothering decisions, will cast a different light on our obsession with commodity motherhood as best exemplified by celebrity moms. By commodity motherhood I only mean media representations of babies as commodities or as vehicles for showcasing one's superior consumption practices.

I mean, is it just me, or doesn't Suleman look a little bit like Angelina Jolie?

Maybe she is unstable, but even unwittingly Suleman has raised some important questions that might render more transparent the American media's class-based double-standards for judging motherhood. Why, for example, was the media so quick to endorse and adore the McCaughey septuplets? (Remember the NBC Dateline special?) These children were produced through an ambitious regimen of fertility drugs; the parents fanatically rejected the idea of selective reduction through abortion; two children were born with special needs. And the McCaughey's were showered with gifts: a car, a home, several years' supply of diapers, promises of college tuition to any state schools in Iowa.

Suleman may be crazy but she called the media's bluff: You like babies? I'll give you babies.

Tumbles from the Veggie Wagon

2009-01-27T10:35:00.005-05:00

The University is closed today due to the weather. This means we will not get to Walt Whitman in my American literature survey. I think Walt would be disappointed--despite downplaying the authority granted to secondhand book knowledge, he probably still intended folks to read his. Anyhoo, I'm going to "lean and loafe at my ease" for the rest of the day....

I had dinner with a job candidate the other night. I went to one of the newer restaurants in town, Clementine, which has been quite a nice addition to the 'Burg. I had a spinach salad of sorts with marinated tomatoes, a chunk of goat cheese in the middle, ringed with bacon pieces. Bacon for our vegetarian blogger? Yes, it was tasty. More interesting than the candidate....

Last fall I had a more extensive adventure into Carnivoria when I went to an event for the "First Ladies of VA" (Gov. Tim Kaine is married to Anne Holton, daughter of Linwood Holton, who was VA gov during the early 70s, so her mother, Jinx, is also a former first lady). It was a fancy affair on campus with a plated dinner; that is, you get what they serve you, which happened to be a lovely fillet mignon. I had run earlier in the day and skipped lunch, so after balking for two seconds, let me tell you, I went to town.

I don't know what to make of these meat-consuming moments. I was at the doctor's office shortly after the first ladies' event, and I asked to have my iron levels check just to be on the safe side, but all is well there (yeah, because I had just eaten a steak!).

H'Burg Aroma-cast: fresh, snowy, with exuberant high-tones of relief (schools are closed).

H'burg Aroma-cast

2009-01-20T10:10:00.002-05:00

Nationally, the winds of change are a-blowin'. I've enjoyed several deep, cleansing yoga breaths myself.

The local scene, however, is dominated by H'burg's signature scent: dog kibble with undertones of chicken feed.

Recent Excesses at a Colleague's Party

2009-01-18T10:28:00.001-05:00

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the manchego
that was on
the table

and which
you were probably
saving
for pasta.

Forgive me
it was delicious
so mild
and so firm.

the mouths of babes

2009-01-14T19:00:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday--thanks for all the well wishes!

I really like my students, but let's face it, from their perspective anyone over twenty-five is indeterminately old. I was sitting in my office with a student when she noticed the piece of cake the dept secretary had given me. I shared with her that it was my birthday, and she responded, "Wow, I can't imagine what it would be like to be in my thirties!"

Yeah, well, neither can I anymore. Okay, office hours are over.

Here's another great student comment: on my colleague's course evaluations, a student wrote that my colleague is a "beacon of knowledge." I love it. I've taken to calling my colleague "BK" or just "The Beacon." (Btw, it's an apt title.)

Spring Training

2009-01-12T07:01:00.003-05:00

I'm using Hal Higdon's Spring Training schedule for intermediate runners. (I can't get the link to work, but go to halhigdon.com)

The mileage on this schedule is a little low, but Carol and I decided to do some speed training this winter/spring before starting our marathon training.

We're aiming for Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN on June 20th.

We're starting the second week of the training and it's been a lot of fun. The hill work-outs in particular are gut-busters. I'm in really good shape, but sprinting up some of the hills around here is really humbling.

more love

2009-01-11T07:45:00.008-05:00

Eva is busily writing about love over on Dogwood Diarist, so I thought I would add my two cents (well, not really mine):

Love is an activity, not a feeling...True love is not the helpless desire to possess the cherished object of one's fervent affection; true love is the disciplined generosity we require of ourselves for the sake of another when we would rather be selfish... -Stephen L. Carter, The Emperor of Ocean Park

To return to love, to get to the love we always wanted but never had, to have the love we want but are not prepared to give, we seek romantic relationships. [...] [Romantic love's] destructiveness resides in the notion that we come to love with no will and no capacity to choose. This illusion, perpetuated by soo much romantic lore, stands in the way of our learning how to love. [...] When we love by intention and will, by showing care, respect, knowledge, and responsibility, our love satisfies. -bell hooks, feminism is for everyone

And here, hopefully, is Nick Lowe (yes, remember "What's So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding"?--made famous by Elvis Costello but written by Lowe) singing "When I Write the Book" from A Prairie Home Companion last October:

Not feeling the love for runners in the Friendly City

2009-01-10T18:41:00.005-05:00

H'burg Aroma-cast: slightly poultry-esque east of town; neutral with undertones of interstate highway in central regions.

Something I've been meaning to post about for the last few days...there was a real tragedy here at the beginning of the week when a runner was killed in a hit and run accident involving a drunk driver. But get this: the accident happened at 5:30AM. Now, I run with someone who does shift-work, so I get it that for some people the day is ending right when mine is beginning, but, wow, this was a meeting of extremes.

It's been distressing on a number of levels. I've been following the online news where local residents post and, while most of the comments condemn the drunk driver (a twenty-four year old female bartender), some of the posts are downright hostile to the runner, blaming her for running in the road in the dark. The runner, however, was part of a very experienced group (who unfortunately witnessed the accident), running against traffic and decked out in reflective gear.

Anyways, in an effort to distract myself from thinking too much about the reality of road dangers, I've been fixated on how irritating the local news coverage is. Here's my list of complaints:

1. Anyone who runs at 5AM in $100 running shoes is a RUNNER not a "jogger," as the news has been claiming. "Jogging" is so late Seventies--like oakey chardonnays, avocado salads, and California. Puh-lease.

2. Why did the local newspaper have to put the cliche photo of the accident scene with the single fallen-soldier running shoe in the foreground on the front page? Oy.

3. Why, when the victim was described as running on the side of the road against traffic, did the local television news team go interview a bunch of uninvolved residents who vaguely speculated about the dangers of standing in the median when waiting to cross the street? Sweet Jesus.

Back-sliding-hoe (not what you think)

2009-01-05T20:08:00.013-05:00

These images are of my father's latest adventures in the winter-wonderland of Vermont which I abandoned years ago in favor of warmer climates.

Using his trusty backhoe, he was attempting to plow the driveway to my brother's house, which is extremely isolated (about a mile and a half into the woods) and not EMT accessible. The backhoe slid backwards about twenty-five feet, slid off the side of the road and rolled over. Remarkably, he's fine. (My father, it should be noted, is 84 years old, in his second year of stage three leukemia and undergoing a sixth round of chemo.)

Not a worry, though, as long as you have a trusty skidder (pronounced "skidda" in the regional dialect) to set the world aright again. There's also a nice shot of my brother's house in the background which he designed and constructed almost entirely by himself with some assistance from various family members--including my oldest brother who passed away two years ago.

Note the landscape's limited color palette. Five months a year of a sunless sky and snow drifts just makes you tougher.

Looking at these pics, though, I'm struck for the first time by the composition of the image and my father's pose, which I recognize from countless other photos of heavy equipment mishaps over the years but which are only just now defamiliarized for me. It's a very conventional pose, knee up and hand resting on the machine, like a big-game hunter with the kill; it's also interesting that my brother knew the familiar and familial practice of taking a picture of this incident before and after my father righted the backhoe. The machinery itself seems to be the primary subject of the image and there's a mixture of both the havoc and order brought by machines, as well as the tacit reverence for the limits of various machines' abilities. There are dozens of photos like this in my family's albums--overloaded log trucks with their noses pointing skyward, overturned trucks and cars, one fully loaded log truck partially descended through a compromised bridge.

I'm not sure I understand the semiotics of the image; there's a lot going on in terms of working-class masculinity, machines, and disasters. Maybe now I'm reading too much into it--after all, the real reason people watch NASCAR is for the crashes, right?

shelf life

2009-01-04T11:54:00.003-05:00

Crazy! I just emailed my buddy Steve to tell him that I quit blogging because, after such a long absence, I'd forgotten my blogger password. Apparently that statement was enough to rattle some shelving in my memory because an entire cascade of old passwords has come tumbling down. This is good: in addition perhaps to blogging again, I can now re-access the university online book ordering system and maybe my itunes account!

2007-12-22T14:48:00.000-05:00

In the spirit of reflection required at this time of year, I decided to create my own “top ten” list, and since I don’t really have a life beyond work and working out I decided to make it a “weird moments/characters at the gym” list, but because my brain is fried, I can only think of five things for it (beyond the average homosocial highjinks one would expect). Delicate readers, beware! The following observations reflect my personal belief that much gym culture is only one (tentative but eager?) step away from the porno set.

It’s probably important to know that I work out at a Gold’s gym, which is sort of the meathead gym in town—lots of workout junkies and bodybuilders (actuals and wannabes). I also run many miles on the treadmill, so I have ample opportunity to gawk shamelessly at people.

Okay, here goes:

1. (Every Gym Has One) Self-Admiration Man: I’ve never seen him wear any other shirt than a skin-tight Under Armour longsleeve that reveals (without really revealing—no, no, he’s too modest) his GQ six-pack. He has an entire repertoire of poses involving “standing at the fountain,” “choosing a weight,” “talking to a friend,” “staring thoughtfully at the mirror—not at myself—no, no, I’m too modest!” etc..

2. Bouncing Body Parts Workout in the Yoga Studio: I was doing sit-ups on the incline bench one day and struggled up just in time to catch a glance of a pilates class in the yoga studio; each member of the class (all women) was straddling her own largest-size yoga ball and jumping enthusiastically up and down. Kinesiologically-speaking (that’s not a word—I just searched for it!) it looked like a good activity and the participants were having lots of fun, but I couldn’t get past the vaguely pornographic appearance (flash to the scene in Fargo where the two prostitutes are bouncing in unison atop their respective johns). There was a tremendous amount of flesh being flung around.

3. Pump It Up!! Man: I’ve only seen/heard this guy once at my gym: he was doing pull ups (mightily), raising himself up with laborious cries “Ohhhhh!” and descending with euphoric groans, “Yeahhhh-heh-heh-heh, Baaaby!” while staring at his own biceps. He must’ve done two sets of twelve like that.

4. Crouching Squats, Hidden Kegels Woman: she looks like a professional bodybuilder, very serious in all of her numerous and strenuous workout activities, one of which involves lying on the incline bench performing almost imperceptible crunches in the area of her pelvic floor. I speculate that she probably requires any sexual partners to sign a waiver exonerating her from responsibility should whatever inserted member (finger, penis, etc.) get accidentally torn off.

5. Pony-Ride Couple: this pair (man and woman) appear to be bodybuilders, very serious and buff. One day the guy was standing on an aerobics step while dropping his heels off the edge (stretching the calf muscle) and bending at the waist to reach forward and hug one of the poles on the pulley-contraption; his partner clambered up on his back and rode astride, enabling him to "deepen the stretch" and the rest of the gym crowd to stare agape. There was no pretending that this wasn’t weird—especially when they switched positions. Yee-haw! Ride 'em!

So that was 2007 in review. I don't see why 2008 should deviate greatly.

If you're reading this you're a truly loyal fan...

2007-12-10T20:41:00.000-05:00

Happy end of the semester, all! Here's what's kept me busy since last summer:

*My father was diagnosed with stage three Leukemia in November; he's elected to do chemo treatments (!) and is tolerating them very well.

*My bourgeois nightmare: I bought a 3 bdrms, 2.5 bath, 1 car garage townhouse in August. I'm ambivalent about the size and expense as well as the idea of "decorating." The cat, however, is in heaven.

*I took over as co-coordinator of the Women's Studies Program. It has become abundantly obvious that I could expend tremendous amounts of energy in the position and have very, very little to show for it. Choose wisely, Grasshopper. Although there are a number of wonderful students in our minor, I have despaired over the idea of creating a major here.

*I taught a new course: "gender and working class literature" and had the real pleasure of teaching some books I haven't read in a long time. Great group of students.

*I continue to collaborate with BG buddy Jeannie on a collection of essays about new conversations in abortion (providing), and I continue to think about revising an essay on America's Next Top Model.

*Running is a joy although I dropped the idea of running a Fall marathon; runner buddy Carol has, however, extracted a promise to run the Cincinnati Flying Pig next spring (08).

A mighty cheer was heard...

2007-07-09T14:48:00.000-05:00

My online class is finally over!! I typed in grades this morning! There is no finer feeling. I'm going to go see a matinee (of _anything_!!) and sit in the a/c and eat popcorn all day. Woo hoo!

What else have I been doing? Are you kidding me? That course ate a hole in my life. A deeply unrewarding pedagogical experience. And yet I was paid almost well....

Running: It's okay. It's actually past time to start training up for a fall marathon. Egads. What, again already? I'm having IT-band issues though.

Life: I had a great fourth of July with Friend Rick. We went canoeing on the Shenandoah. Hilarity ensued. We encountered nothing more challenging than a couple of less-than-class-one rapids, and yet we still managed to take a couple more or less backwards. Wahoo!

House: Still waiting to hear if my loan was approved. I got a look at a printout of my credit report and was surprised to see how good my score is. At least for the next couple of days, anyways.

Family: I'm headed to VT next week for a few days. Have to get back and pack.

summer time and the livin' is easy but the summer course sucks ass

2007-06-18T07:31:00.001-05:00

I was in the lovely Midwest last week (many thanks to all the folks out there who hosted me!) doing some socializing, a modest amount of work, and running an adventure race. This was my third time running the North Country Trail Relay and it was a blast. Sandy trails over hills and through the woods and a big cookout at the end with veggie burgers and beer--there's really nothing better. This pic is just prior to the 6AM start.

Went to see Ocean's 13 last Friday. What a disappointment. Pitt, Clooney, and Damon have clearly figured out that all they need to do is show up in some nice clothes and act oh-so-metrosexual to get their paychecks, so there was very little effort put in to delivering lines. The plot was deeply lame (another revenge narrative that really had no bite).

I'm currently teaching an online version of my summer course: women's fiction. I've taught this course a number of times and I love it, but the online thing has me thrown for a loop. The best description I can offer is to compare it to hosting a party that you don't actually get to enjoy. That is, I'm doing all this behind the scenes work to get the assignments going, but I'm not getting to know the students very well or follow much of their discussions very closely. So far the only good thing I can say is that it'll be over soon.

Where the hell have I been?

2007-05-20T08:39:00.000-05:00

I have no idea. What a semester! After doing MLA interviews over the winter break, I never really caught up enough to get in control of the spring term. Staying on top of this semester reminded me of being a five year old atop my shetland pony who would go along with the whole "ponyride" thing until abruptly spinning around and galloping for the barn but not before taking us through the apple orchard where numerous low branches would thrash me senseless and leave me lying in the grass dazed and windless.

Here are the big doin's:

1. I taught a new course this semester and a grad course, both of which ate up my life and spit out the gristle.

2. I've been appointed co-coordinator of the Women's Studies Program. Power! Fame! Glory!

3. My mother was hospitalized in April in acute congestive heart failure so I made a flying trip up there right at the end of the term. She's back home now and doing moderately well for someone in heart failure with high blood pressure, COPD, and edema.

4. I ran the Charlottesville marathon (4:07) and the Frederick, MD marathon (3:58) within two weeks of each other. Yay me! Ask me about my marathons! I'm headed to MI in June to run the North Country Trail relay with Team Playmakers. Can't wait!

5. I finished a week-long workshop to learn how to teach my summer course online. Can I just say that right now the whole thing seems like a virtual cluster-fuck (the course is a forty-student section of discussion-based instruction) but I'm getting paid a lot to do it!

6. I joined match.com, which, let me tell you, is worth the price of admission for the entertainment factor alone.

7. I met with a realtor this weekend to start shopping for a home to buy. I told the guy my price range and informed him that I'm not interested in townhomes. He said, "Yeah. Well. You'll have to get over that."

8. I finally got a settlement from my car accident last fall. Apparently my "aggravation" is worth just under $1000. How 'bout that.

9. The book project I'm working on with a grad school buddy got a "nibble" from an interested press, so we're at work on the introduction and gathering the contributors' essays.

That's about it. I'm currently reading a 19th century autobiography by a free black woman, Eliza Potter's _A Hairdresser's Adventures in High Life_. After that there's a novel a student recommended. I saw _After the Wedding_ last night and thought it was great. Today I'm seeing _The Namesake_ which I read last break--should be good. I'm also excited that _Away from Her_ is coming to town; the screenplay is based on one of my favorite Alice Munro short stories, "The Bear Came Back Over the Mountain."

H'burg aroma cast: agricultural.

Has Grey's Anatomy Jumped the Shark?

2007-02-21T19:55:00.000-05:00

I find myself curiously indifferent to Meredith's fate. Will the show be significantly different if she dies? McToo Bad-y.

H'burg Aroma-cast: dogfood and chicken soup; yuck.

Feeling Free

2007-02-12T17:03:00.000-05:00

We probably don't need more reasons for hating cell phones, but here's my latest objection: potty talking. Am I suddenly offended by bad language, you ask? No, I'm offended by women using their free hands to talk on their cell phones while urinating in public restrooms.

Last month I walked into a women's room and was greeted with a "Hello?" from a neighboring stall. "Hello?" I replied, belatedly realizing I wasn't being addressed. "Ohmygod, I'm calling from the bathroom!" announced my neighbor.

Today I entered the restroom and heard a voice from an occupied stall clearly engaged in one side of a conversation involving filling out a form: "18 Oak Street; area code 555...."

Note to self: DO NOT borrow other women's cell phones (one just doesn't know where they've been); remember that some things should not be multitasked.

My Inner Vermonter

2007-02-05T17:23:00.000-05:00

I did an 18 mile run on Saturday morning. I started at 7:20AM when the temperature was 20 degrees, and I finished around 10AM when it had warmed up to 26 degrees. Both sets of cheeks were quite rosey by the time I got back indoors. I had to dig deep and find my inner Vermonter.

Lame scholarship I don't want to have to be responsible for doing...

2007-01-22T09:36:00.000-05:00

I was in DC this past weekend at The National Portrait Gallery, which is hosting a special exhibit on Josephine Baker. Very cool. I guess I had known and forgotten or maybe never known that Baker--long before BrAngelina--had adopted a large family of racially diverse children, her "Rainbow Tribe." How many celebrities have done this over the years? Mia Farrow comes to mind. I don't think Michael Jackson counts.

What can you do with a PhD in American Culture Studies?

2007-01-22T09:22:00.000-05:00

Why, you can sit around and drink margaritas and discuss John Lennon, of course. Which is exactly what I did over the winter break with good grad buddy Ben.

Running and lack of resolutions

2007-01-08T06:08:00.000-05:00

No good New Years resolutions this year. (Could it be that I'm already perfect?)

Instead, here's my training program for my next marathon, taken directly from the New York City Marathon training pages.

I've been successfully training at the base level for the last month (25 miles/week), so I feel great. This past week I completed the first week of "real" training, including the 13 mile long run on Saturday, which, if I were following the Lance Armstrong training plan, would mean I'm good to go NOW. (Lance--who is undeniably a fabulous athlete--notoriously ran his first marathon last year after only training up to a 13 mile distance run. He paid handsomely.)

Basic Marathoner
This is the recommended schedule for the average veteran marathoner (from a 25-mile-per-week base for at least one month to a peak of 45 miles per week).

Week*M T W Th F Sat Sun***Total

1****off 4 4 3 off 13 3***27
2****off 5 5 5 off 10 5***30
3****off 4 4 3 3 15 3***32
4****off 5 5 5 3 12 4***34
5****off 5 4 4 off 18 4***35
6****off 5 6 5 4 13 4***37
7****off 6 5 5 3 18 3***40
8****off 6 6 6 6 13 5***42
9****off 6 6 6 4 20 3***45
10***off 6 6 6 6 13 5***42
11***off 6 6 6 4 20 3***45
12***off 6 6 6 6 13 5***42
13***off 6 6 6 4 20 3***45
14***off 6 6 6 6 13 5***42
15***off 5 6 5 4 22 3***45
16***off 5 5 4 3 15 3***35
17***off 5 5 5 off 8 4***27
18***off 4 4 3 off 3 26.2** 14+race

At the MLA

2006-12-29T01:43:00.000-05:00

Please, kill me now.

brine-ing

2006-12-26T13:49:00.000-05:00

My brother and his wife graciously prepared Thanksgiving dinner for the clan this year, for which they "brined" a turkey. This involved submerging the bird in a cooler filled with water with about two pounds of salt for a period of time. While this practice initially was a cause for alarm amidst the family's culinary old-guard (ie, the aunties), apparently it produced a moist and tasty turkey. (I'm reporting second-hand here, as a vegetarian by-stander.)

I was thinking about this today as I swam in the new pool at my local gym. The pool is maintained by a salination system rather than a chlorination process. Hmmm--salty.

H'burg Aroma-cast: neutral without even a hint of snow in the unseasonably warm air.

Happy Post Election Day

2006-11-08T06:48:00.000-05:00

Come to think of it, I haven't had a "happy" post election day in quite some time, but today is pretty good -- as long as I look at the national Dem scene. The VA senate race is still too close. Plus VA passed a really awful amendment about marriage = man + woman. The thing I really hate about this state is that so many people are so mean-spirited and stupid but they pass it off as being xian.

First woman speaker of the house--and she's a Dem--that's cool! Bernie Sanders won the VT senate seat (although bless your heart Jim Jeffords). Woo Hoo!

Before declaring "all's well that ends well," would someone put a gag in Kerry? Oh, never mind, his foot is still in there. What a dumbass.

More importantly, you're wondering, did I get a new car? Yes, indeed. I'm now driving a 2007 Mazda 3. More on this later.

There's never been a planet Janet hasn't seen

2006-10-20T16:50:00.000-05:00

I was in a car accident Tuesday morning on my way in to teach. I was driving up to an intersection, pondering how to segue from Plath’s Bell Jar to Allison’s Bastard Out of Carolina in my women’s literature class, when another car coming the opposite direction pulled in front of me trying to make a left hand turn. I didn’t have any time to stop, so I hit the other car at about 30-35mph. It was the other driver’s fault—really, that’s what the police report says too, so it’s not just me being bitter and getting all Judge Judy about it.

Reader, have you ever been hit in the face with an airbag? “Airbag” really seems like a misnomer. In the event of an accident, your car will deploy a brick that will prevent you from hitting the windshield. I’m not really complaining (yes, I am); airbags are good things. I swear I lost something like 20-50 IQ points just from getting smacked with that thing. Thinking is a lot harder now than it was before.

After the accident and getting hit with the airbag, I was sitting in my car with a bloody nose and lip, not thinking about much in particular, and the woman driving the other car came running over (she seemed okay) demanding, “What’s you name? What’s you name? Whose your insurance?!”

All I could think was, “My name is Interplanet Janet. I’m a galaxy girl. What’s insurance?”

Say farewell to the Honda—I just got the call and it’s a total goner. I’ll be car shopping this weekend, I guess.

IKEA

2006-10-16T08:49:00.000-05:00

...after a brief absence...

I've been sick for over a month with allergy-related issues and headcolds, all of which culminated in a sinus infection and fluid in my ears. I've been a twirly, dizzy, Elmer Fudd sounding puddle of self pity, which doesn't make for very interesting blogging.

I was in Pittsburgh the weekend before last to write a book proposal with grad school buddy Jeannie. It was very cool working together and being in P'burgh (we stayed at The Priory Hotel, which was pretty neat. We were both sick as dogs though. As a final reward, we both went to the big IKEA outside town before getting on our respective highways to head home.

I love IKEA products--not so much for their aesthetic but because I love the faux do-it-yourself assembly process. Sometimes I think it must be more work for the company to only partially assemble its products and elaborately package them with instructions that must be "universally" comprehensible to your average cheap, inept, materialistic slob. IKEA must employ an army of tech writers and illustrators to create its instructions. I'm also curious about how they know when a particular step in the process is going to be too complicated for your average cheap, inept, materialistic slob to handle. For example, I bought some photograph boxes, and the lids already had been assembled, but I needed to put together the boxes including punching the teeth of a little metal label frame through premade slots and folding the teeth over with pliers. IKEA clearly deemed me too incompetant to handle putting the metal corners on the lids but judiciously determined that I could take care of the rivets and metal label frames. How?

I felt myself asking the same question this weekend while birthday shopping for a couple of my (great) nieces and nephews. How does a company know that a certain product is "not suitable for children under 2yrs"? Like, how does Mattel know that my two and a half year old niece won't sick their glitter encrusted pipe-cleaners with google-eyes up her five year old brother's nose? (Interestingly, the concern for bodily harm became the dominating criteria for selecting gifts--my niece has a particularly rowdy--and yet surprisingly indestructable--pack of offspring that seem bent on foreshortening each others' existences.)

Maybe IKEA should start labeling its products this way: "Not suitable for female consumers over 35yrs with predisposal to hyper-tension and who do not own hammers."

beginnings, endings

2006-09-02T07:25:00.000-05:00

Phew. That first week of a semester is always a doozy.

H'burg Aroma-cast: despite Hurricane Ernesto blowing through town, the 'burg is heavy with its dog kibble signature scent.

I met with a financial advisor yesterday, which was interesting. There were a couple of questions she asked me that I hadn't really been thinking about: when do you want to retire? what do you envision retirement looking like? I guess I've been so focused on getting and keeping my job, I never thought about retiring from it.

Recoveries and Failings

2006-08-27T11:37:00.000-05:00

I'm cured! After presenting my excruciatingly sore throat at the doctor's on Thursday and being told I don't have strep but that I could take ibuprofen and acetaminophen simultaneously (I didn't think you could do that without seriously insulting your liver), I suffered through two more days without being able to swallow and woke up from a nap yesterday feeling completely healed. So I did a ten mile run this morning and am declaring myself cured. Go body! Go body!

My Honda, on the other hand, is suffering mightily. I decided to make repairs to it rather than buy a new one (I won't bore you with the laborious ditherings that brought me to that decision except to say I hate car payments). So I found a garage that could replace the exhaust manifold for *a lot* cheaper than the dealership. Great, except once that was done I could hear the rest of the failing exhaust system getting louder and louder until today while driving back from my run it finally gave way to a full-throated roar. Now that needs to get fixed. And possibly an "idle air-intake valve." So I'm in this interesting position where overnight my feelings for my beloved Honda have completely reversed. Ask anyone who knows me, "How does Mary feel about her car?" "Mary loves her Honda." Well not anymore, motherfucker. It's for fuckin' sale. Tow the heap. Aargh. Am I going to have to take the bus to the first day of classes?

Closure

2006-08-24T10:05:00.000-05:00

I'm sick! How can this be? I have course syllabi to prepare and other beginning of the semester nonesense to attend to! And I haven't finished my Top Model article, and if I don't get that done I won't have anything to show for this summer except slight improvements to my tennis serve. Oh, the awesome incapacitating power of the common headcold.

Inspired by my colleague D. Stringer who was offered a better gig at a different institution and who therefore had to move last week and purge many books from her life, I decided to clean out my home office. Things I'm getting rid of:

1. Baudrillard (don't let the simulated door hit you in the ass)
2. Deleuze and Guattari (I hardly knew ye because I didn't really read ye)
3. All my Lacan seminar notes (thanks for the memories but I think I'll go back to good old fashion repression for the sake of efficiency)
4. *Years* of back issues of The Nation, which I kept promising myself I would review in order to pull out the articles that would be useful for teaching
5. My retired Mac Powerbook 190cs (looks as peculiar as a typewriter)
6. Numerous contradictory articles on eating, hydrating, and training for marathons.

So basically I'm saying good-bye to graduate school. If only I could say good-bye to the debt. I'm seeing a financial planner about that very issue next week. Some things in my office strangely gained in importance and there were some significant discoveries:

1. Notes on Bill Grant's lecture on the history of American Studies (for use and commentary in my intro to American Studies course)
2. My original contract for my current job (oops, I'd been looking for that)
3. Photo finishes of my three marathons
4. Notes from Ellen Berry's feminist theory course (priceless)

H'burg Aroma-cast: neutral, pre-autumnal; but there was a skunk ambling around the bushes outside my office building this morning, as all the freshman orientation groups were out on the quad practicing their noisy cheers and making a general ruckus...stayed tuned....

Non Academic Summer Activities

2006-08-15T13:35:00.000-05:00

I saw the best movie last night with Friend John. Actually it's a rental: Brick. It's kind of a noir detective story set in high school--like Veronica Mars with tense, terse monologue and dirty double-crossin' dames.

I went to a new dentist today for a cleaning and was pleasantly surprised when I was told I do not immediately need more crowns. The Evil Wanker dentist I had previously been going to wanted to load my head up with porcelain replacement parts for my teeth. I am irritated at him but mostly at myself for almost subjecting myself to many painful, expensive hours in the dentist chair.

I'm shopping for new cars today. I checked out a Honda (Civic) dealer yesterday, and today I'm going to look at the new Scions (XA). Consumer Reports and Edmonds.com rate them as comparable cars so before I throw money at the Honda people I think I'll check out some other cars.

2006-08-14T14:30:00.000-05:00

More books read this summer:

Marilynn Robinson, Gilead (beautiful; dying father writing a letter to his six year old son; I'll use this in my Men in America coure if I ever get to teach it again)

Mary Gaitskill, Veronica (lovely novel about how we use and abuse each other and how sometimes it's forgiven or okay)

Alice Walker, You Can't Keep a Good Woman Down (good politicized collection of short stories)

Transportation Troubles

2006-08-12T16:03:00.000-05:00

I dropped my car off yesterday for a 30 thousand mile check up (this would be its fourth such check up--you do the math). I decided to ride my bike the four miles to campus from the Honda dealership, amidst the four lanes on traffic on Main street.Yikes! Ours is not a bike friendly town. Despite the fact that mountain biking is hugely popular in this area, around town cycling is an even more extreme sport due to lack of bike lanes, detritus on the roads, and unwelcoming sidewalks. At one point I was passed by an 18 wheeler loaded with turkeys and the miserable birds made me think, "You are in a better place than me."

It turns out that my Honda has a cracked exhaust manifold. Alas, it may be time to buy a new Honda.

Aroma-Cast

2006-08-11T10:41:00.000-05:00

H'burg Aroma-Cast: phew, fetid. Today is just one of those days here in Chicken-town where something in the air tells you that things just ain't right. I blame the poultry industry primarily, but maybe this is a sign of a larger more abstract state of things being out of order.

Off the Decaf Wagon

2006-08-10T10:23:00.000-05:00

Recent backsliding by Mel Gibson and Robin Williams has inspired me to throw my body off the decaf wagon and into the waiting arms of my old friend coffee. I'm trying to finish an article and send it off for review, and all I can say is that writing is just easier with coffee: all my little synapses stop idly picking fleas off each other, get off their asses, and start really connecting to make sense of things.

The downside is that of course after the initial moments of clarity, I'm now reduced to fluttering around my apartment like an ADD butterfly. Where's the balance?

Who would've thought it would be this hard to write something coherent about Tyra Banks and America's Next Top Model? It could be the subject's lack of coherence....I'm trying to say something about the way Tyra encourages the women of color in the competition to "own" their ethnicity at the same time she tells the models they must be "blank palettes" (in other words, unmarked "White") for clients in order to be successful models. I'm applying Mary Waters discussion of "optional ethnicity" to highlight the contradiction and danger of Tyra's message to young women of color. The paper needs to be done so I can start thinking about the upcoming semester and also so I will no longer have to admit that I'm writing about this ridiculous television program.

Reunion: School Daze

2006-08-06T13:45:00.000-05:00

As mentioned, I went to my 20th high school reunion last month while I was home visiting my parents. I tried to approach the whole thing with no expectations, minimal bitterness, and polite curiosity. Please excuse the following snarky tone, but is there any other way of describing a high school reunion?

I come from a workingclass background, and while I don't remember this being a source of problems in gradeschool, the high school I attended was dominated by a more affluent population. Additionally, I went to a very small grade school before entering a larger (but still small) junior/high school, where I was immediately and enduringly miserable.

The turnout at the reunion was nothing stunning. My class graduated around 120 people; there were maybe 60 at the party, and probably 20 of them were spouses.

A gradeschool girlfriend and I were greeted at the door by two classmates organizing the show (they did a nice job, btw), who were huggy but vague/generic in their conversations. I then spoke with a third classmate who married the class drug dealer and with whom I never spoke in high school; she was decidedly uncomfortable talking to me (mostly because I couldn't remember who her husband was when she mentioned him and their marriage seemed to be a significant accomplishment in her life). Apparently they divorced a while ago and that was significant too. She's remarried, but that didn't seem as significant.

I was talked at by a fourth classmate, a conversational automaton, who never paused for reaction or response but trudged on verbally with all the inflection, style, and determination of Eeyore.

I then was approached and violently hugged (hugged!) by my junior/high school nemesis, who launched into descriptions of her life in law enforcement (yikes), finding jesus (double yikes), and her kids who she described as being "really independent and strong," which I took to mean aggressively conformist and ruthless defenders of the status quo like their mom. Don't come looking for atonement and forgiveness from me, you jesus-freak bitch!

I had a pointless conversation with a classmate at whose 7th birthday party I distinctly remember wetting my pants (too much soda pop for me!). She told me she had received an MSW at an ivy league school, but when I asked her what the program was like, she responded by telling me about the cool loft she had lived in, and how cool NYC had been, and how the shopping had been cool...whatever.

At one point two former reigning popular girls stared directly at me and my gradeschool girlfirend while snickering and whispering. We responded in kind. It was soooo regressive.

Another classmate is now a contractor, and his company is being employed by the high school for its renovations (the whole building is gutted). He had lots of tedious stories that all started along the lines of "Guess what's actually underneath the stage...? Guess what's underneath the second floor lockers...?"

Okay, enough snarky crap. Basically we looked like a nice bunch of middle-aged folks. The best part of the whole "reunion experience" for me was seeing three really good girlfriends from gradeschool. All four of us are now professional women with feminist outlooks. See? It wasn't just me! There was something in the water!

Food Issues

2006-08-04T14:46:00.000-05:00

I'm in my *new* office today trying to create order. I decided to hike down to the breezeway vending machine for some M&Ms (something I thought I wouldn't be doing from my new office way up on the fourth floor but there's no accounting for the tremendous alluring power of the vending machine). The breezeway is not air conditioned, which didn't occur to me until after I'd been staring at dozens of horribly disfigured chocolate bars for a few moments. So what happens to these candy bars once the temperature drops below one hundred degrees they regain solid form? Will they be purchased next week by unknowing students (and forgetful me) who will marvel at their peculiar shape? Or will they be relocated to Big Lots?

Yesterday I had lunch with colleagues at the new Tea House in town and was well into a spring salad with strawberries when I encountered unexpected protein: a big fat wormy grub thing. I was horrified but didn't want to make a scene so I let it frolick around on the plate for a while until the waitstaff person came by. Ugh ugh ugh. I've probably unknowingly eaten dozens of such creatures, but ugh. The tea was good.

I don't know how to feel about a new semester. Sometimes I think college students are just intellectual veal (soft and tender) being prepped by us for consumer culture. Sigh.

Goings On

2006-08-02T10:03:00.000-05:00

It is beastly hot. I went running this morning and returned several dress sizes smaller I'm sure due to fluid loss. The cat is perfecting his Salvador Dali clock/Kraft-singles imitation where he drapes himself over a piece of furniture and then wilts around the edges. It must be tough wearing a fur suit in this weather.

I went to the opening round of play at the Legg Mason Tennis Classic last weekend with Friend John. We saw a great match between two American players: Gimmelstob and Sweeting. Sweeting, who won, looked really young--like 14--but he played great. He's since lost to Clement.

H'burg Aroma-Cast: sweaty, stinky people.

I'm switching offices (background music="movin' on up") to the second floor of our department into a former senior colleague's office. More space, better windows, less foot-traffic. It's all good.

A possible trip to the Midwest is in the works to do some writing on a project with former grad school buddy Jeannie. Stay tuned...

Books read:
Jessica Abel, La Perdida (eehn)
Elinor Lipman, The Inn at Lake Devine (romance; fun)

Barbara's Blog

2006-07-28T04:52:00.000-05:00

Barbara's Blog

Que Sera Sera

2006-07-27T09:26:00.000-05:00

H'burg Aroma-Cast: tar scent (it's repavement-palooza here in the valley)

I bought a new cell phone yesterday, and I should be spending this time reading the instructions instead of writing this, so I guess I'll just wing it learning the new features, which is pretty much what I did with my old phone.

Unnecessary features on my new phone: innumerable
Pictures taken thus far of the cat: 2

I was at Verizon for quite a while yesterday determining what was wrong with the old phone, selecting a new phone (an unremarkable basic one), and getting my phone number transferred. I was struck by how pissed off all the other clients around me were: an elderly couple was complaining they simply can't hear well on their phone; a woman was ranting about being charged $25 to retrieve photos off her daughter's phone; another couple was returning a phone that broke after a week; and so on. I thought I was the only person who hates Verizon with a white hot passion I usually reserve for Tom Hanks and resents the whole cell phone phenomenon, but no, there are millions of us--we're practically a movement or some kind of army.

I returned from my vacation in Vermont this past weekend and was delighted to find that in my absence Friend John had taken it upon himself to water my geraniums while watching Wimbledon at my place. The cat traveled with me to Vermont, so I decided rather than burden friends and neighbors with the obligation to check on my empty apartment, I would adopt the "que sera sera" approach to plant care. My tolerance for the suffering of foliage must be greater than Friend John's.

I had a great three weeks in Vermont. Here's a lazy-ass list of some of the things I did:
1. I attended my high school reunion which was wonderful in some ways and silly in others (more about this later).
2. I went to a couple of movies including Prairie Home Companion (Keillor's voice steals the show) and Disappearances (based on a Howard Frank Mosher novel).
3. I did a lot of running but was frustrated by the unreliable performance of my GPS device in Vermont: I blame North Korean missiles and the space shuttle.
4. I went to every crazy farmer's market and craft fair I could get to. Also a really neat development in my home town is the installment of an outdoor, wood-fired community oven (see Toni Morrison's Paradise; it's like a kiln); so every MWF a local breadmaker comes and makes awesome bread and sells it for more money than you ever thought you'd spend on bread but your mouth's too full of it to worry about those kinds of details and besides it tastes great. My mom and I ate half a loaf once on the drive home.
5. I worried, worried, worried about my parents. They have reached or are about to reach the point where as elderly folks they should not be living alone. What am I going to do? I drove my dad all over Vermont and New Hampshire to visit with old cronies, relatives, and truck part stores (my dad does not enjoy driving great distances as much as he used to) and I took my mom to her twice-a-week physical therapy appointments. When did they get this old? In talking with my parents it became clear that my mom thinks things are fine and dandy and my father is scared out of his mind. He indicated that I needed to "do something" for my mother but I left it as "You tell me what you want, and I'll let you know what I can do, but I'm not jumping in uninvited and I have a life in Virginia." This seemed to appease him.
6. I've been reading:
Yann Martel, Life of Pi (yuck--I read it on the flight to and from San Francisco)

Sarah Waters, Fingersmith (great--if you love Wilkie Collins--and all those doubled characters and plot twists--you'll love modern day Sarah Waters)

Alison Bechdel, Fun Home (great--a must read for graphic novel fans looking for more texts by women; an obvious choice for fans of Dykes to Watch Out For)

Russel Banks, Family Life (good--not what I expected from Banks)

Sy Montgomery, The Good Good Pig (good--flatlander raises pig in New Hampshire; gains insight)

Haven Kimmel, She Got Up Off the Couch (good--much better than Girl Named Zippy and a surprising contradiction to descriptions of Kimmel as the only memoirist who had a happy childhood--so there!)

Alison Munro, The Progress of Love (everyone should read more Munro! she makes me want to learn how to write short stories!)

Fay Weldon, She May Not Leave (great--a satisfying new novel for Weldon fans about nannies/au pairs)

Curtis Sittenfeld, Prep (awesome--about prep schools, class issues, and ostracism)

Let My Summer Begin!

2006-06-26T14:07:00.000-05:00

I barely survived the faculty institute on assessment last week. I emailed regular updates to a colleague during the process and my taglines were always some variation of "killl me now." Institute participants were charged with the task of rewriting the objectives for several segments of our genenral education program. The segments were organized many years ago for different purposes than they fulfill today. My segment, "tier one," originally intended as an introduction to the humanities, now lacks a unifying purpose since the original sequencing of tiers was done away with. Not surprisingly, we struggled to clarify our objectives. Complicating the matter was the diversity of humanities' disciplines in the tier: we could almost define ourselves as a "cultural studies" tier with the objective of teaching students to privilege context in the analysis of any given text, but the presence of analytic philosophy in our tier pretty much screwed that pooch. That is, the analytic philosopher in our group kept objecting to the emphasis on context by proclaiming things like "pure logic" and "metaphysics" as being outside cultural context. I started having violent flashbacks to some grad school philosophy courses featuring WWF-worthy battles between the cultural studies and analytic philosophy camps. Ah, we meet again, Moriarty.

Happily the institute concluded a day early.

Other noteworthy news: I had my carpets cleaned and with the vanishing of the last stains could find closure on the loss of Fevvers.

I was defrosting a hotdog bun (for use with a Boca bratwurst and not a hotdog) in the microwave and it caught on fire! Danger! Excitement! Smoke! Newton, my remaining cat, stayed traumatized under the bed for the entire day.

With the conclusion of the institute my summer has officially begun. Friend John and I spent the weekend at the Skyland Resort, a big ole lodge on the Skyline Drive overlooking the Shenandoah valley. It rained heavily all night and was wonderfully peaceful.

Adventures at the NWSA

2006-06-18T10:24:00.000-05:00

Wow, where to start? The NWSA was in Oakland, CA this year--and what an excellent choice of location it was! Interestingly the conference theme was "locating Women's Studies"; clearly many women's studies practioners would like to locate themselves in the bay area.

My WS program director sent three of us from the program and herself to the conference to participate in the pre-conference for program administrators and directors. I went to some interesting panels about keeping undesirable faculty out of women's studies courses, growing programs from minors to majors, and putting a happy face on assessment. I learned a lot, including that VA is part of the South East regional NWSA and not the Mid-Atlantic, an important point since we're interested in hosting a regional conference in the next few years, and while the Mid-Atlantic group was excited when I mistakenly inquired about hosting theirs (go figure), the South East group really thought we should probably host theirs. Then both groups decided that we should have a joint conference for both regions. My colleague and I quickly excused ourselves from the meeting with vague promises to get back in touch with everyone. La la la.

The opening keynote address was delievered by Rebecca Walker (daughter of Alice and author of one of the first "third wave feminist" texts). Distressingly, her address can only be compared to a stinky pile of poo. Possibly intimidated by an academic audience of women's studies practioners who must remind her of her own mother with whom she apparently still has MANY issues, Walker fronted her anxiety with a sturdy vaneer of condescension. She spoke for less than twenty minutes, pausing often for long moments of self-regrouping and deep breathing, and repeating banal passages of her writing (ala bell hooks) which didn't merit the honor. She slammed three prominent female figures in American culture but refused to name them (best guesses were Oprah and Alice), which struck everyone as confusing and bad form. She cut audience members short during Q&A with "Sweetie, what's your question?" And then chastised all the women in the room for not valuing intimacy more (??). The bad part of this is that undoubtedly NWSA paid serious $$ for her talk and, while she provoked a lot of dicsussion, it wasn't really the good kind. The only positive outcome I can hope for is that some of the self-identified youngster third-wavers will start thinking a little more critically about their positions as a result of this disappointing event.

I gave a paper that went really well, thanks in large part to the good organization of the panel performed by my grad school buddy Jeannie.

Jeannie and I were also running buddies when I lived in Ohio, so we concocted a plan to run across the Golden Gate Bridge. Navigating the BART and three bus transfers should have been the most difficult part of our adventure, but we're both scared of heights so while the run was short (3 miles total) we laughed maniacally with fear most of the way and were practically incapacitated by car exhaust fumes.

I took a red eye back to VA last night/this morning and was able to see Friend John win the men's doubles at a local tournament this afternoon. Ah, it makes me wish I were a better tennis player.

It's All About Me

2006-06-12T11:54:00.000-05:00

Reader, Beware! I'm going to talk about my colonoscopy so if you're feeling various muscles starting to clench, you might want to skip this.

Thursday was the last day of Maymester: woo hoo! It was a good semester in many ways, but it was also a tough semester due to my brother's death and the need to travel back to Vermont a couple of times. To cap the whole thing off I had to schedule a colonoscopy for the Friday after exams (this is my second screening so I knew what to expect, but my brother died of colon cancer, so the whole thing had a thin scummy skim of stress to it). To my utter joy, I had a *great* response to the conscious sedation drugs this time around. The last thing I remember was the doctor asking me if I had any trouble with sedatives and my reply: "No, I'm a big proponent." Next thing I knew, the screening was over and I was in recovery. They let me out of there around noon, but I was still fucked up for the rest of the day. It was the perfect personal party to end the semester.

The particular combination of drugs I received works as an amnesiac (who wants to remember having a colonoscopy?) and inhibits judgment, so not only do you do crazy things without all the fuss of feeling like you're breaking with social convention, you can't really remember what you did anyways. It was awesome. I told everyone I met that day my *entire* life story from cradle to third-year-review multiple times. Friend John assured me I told him one story at least five times. And I got more witty and vivacious as I went. The best part, though, was when anyone tried to talk to me, I would just fall asleep in the middle of them talking. It was great! It's all about me, baby! After an entire semester of people coming into my office to talk at me about how they were going to organize their papers, what they did this weekend, what was wrong with the academic job market, how the department website needs to be revised, blah, blah, blah, I finally got to tune everyone out. And I feel completely refreshed! It was better than a three-day retreat to some bullshit yoga spa. Drug addiction always looked really inconvenient to me, but I think I'm coming around to a new way of seeing things.

Currently I'm working on my paper for the NWSA conference in Oakland. I'm leaving Wednesday. It should be fun (although not if I don't get this paper done!) as I'll be workshopping with colleagues from my home institution on building our program and seeing and presenting with some old grad school buddies. The NWSA is also kind of the anti-conference academic conference, so it should be a hoot.

It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over

2006-06-05T16:54:00.000-05:00

The Yogi-isms are coming in very handy as I ponder the conclusion of Maymester. This is the last week of class, so I feel done, but there's still an entire quarter semester worth of grading to do, so I don't feel done. Activities and papers and exams, oh my!

I'm leaving for the NWSA conference in Oakland, CA next week. Once again I'm in the desperate situation of needing to write the paper I plan to present. Here's another appropriate Yogi-ism: I didn't really say everything I said!

After the conference I'll be back here to attend some kind of faculty institute for assessing our general education courses. I've been promised by all the senior faculty (who made a point of evacuating the region for the entire month) that it will be a colossal waste of time. Can't wait!

At least I have tennis to keep me entertained. Running is going okay too, although I haven't done any long runs over ten miles, which would test the sticking power of my physical therapy fix of last spring. Hopefully by the end of the month I'll be up to some more serious mileage. I'm tentatively planning on running Baltimore again this fall--really, any October marathon in the region will do. But I'm swearing off training for any November races.

It's Deja Vu All Over Again

2006-05-16T16:48:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Maymester and I'm teaching "women's fiction" for the third year in a row and I'm feeling a little jaded. What's Edna Pontellier awakening from? What's she awakening to? At most these questions should be pondered once every two years or so and not repeatedly over back to back semesters when one runs the risk of losing a sense of compassion for Edna's dilemma (like, who gives a rat's ass?). The students in this class are great, so despite my somewhat pissy attitude the class should be fun.

I got back from Vermont Saturday night after spending a week or so with my brother and family. Traveling to Vermont was like traveling backwards in a seasonal time machine that returned me to an earlier Springtime when forsythias are just beginning to bloom and full foliage is still half a month away. Trail running was, as always, a blast in part because it was excessively muddy and also because the GPS device Friend John gave me was really handy.

Sadly, my brother died last night. After fighting cancer for four years he ran out of chemo options in March and had been steadily declining. Most distressing was his refusal to stop fighting, which put him and the family somewhat at odds with the Hospice staff who seek to foster more "easeful" deaths--but of course the question becomes more easeful for whom? It's all very hard on my poor stoic Vermonter family. I'll be returning there Thursday for the funeral this weekend. Thank some deity for the fact that my Honda gets 40+ mpg on the highway.

My tennis gang reassembled this afternoon to hit some balls around. Tennis class starts up again next week. For the first ten minutes we looked like we'd never held rackets in our hands before (there was some serious windmilling and flailing; balls were later retrieved from a range of extra-court locations), but after warming up we performed a little more respectably.

I was invited by Running Buddy Carol to join a bunco group, which I was looking forward to reporting on later this week, but I'll miss the first meeting because of the funeral. Oh, laugh if you will, but it looks like a fun opportunity to meet some other women in the area and, well, get raging drunk. Is it so wrong?

H'burg Aroma-Cast: I'm congested with a headcold and everyone else is similarly incapacitated with allergies, so who knows?

2006-05-04T10:44:00.000-05:00

By the conclusion of today I'll have grades entered for two classes and collected research papers for the third.

I'm in the process of getting ready to leave for Vermont tomorrow to be with my family. My eldest brother is terminally ill and is leaving the hospital after being told by doctors that he has about a week to live. Being several hundred miles away has meant that I've been able to avoid this issue until tomorrow....

My third year review is done and, I'm happy to report, a complete success. Not that this won't keep me from obsessing about tenure for the next few years, but at least now I don't have to obsess about third year review any longer. There's been high drama in my department this semester: back-stabbing faculty and disgruntled graduate students. Summer couldn't get here fast enough.

My physical therapy quick fix does not seem to have held, so I may be making a return to it later in the month. On a good note, however, running has been greatly improved by the gift of a watch and GPS device from Friend John. The GPS system keeps track of speed, pace, and distance (among several functions I haven't figured out yet), which takes the guess work out of trail runs.

H'Burg Aroma-Cast: Lilacs are not common in this area, but the few bushes in town are putting out a mesmerizing scent.

A Party in My Heart

2006-04-28T10:44:00.000-05:00

Ah, the last day of classes. There is great joy in Mudville. My classes finished yesterday so I went out with a colleague for a couple glasses of wine and some free-ranging, lighthearted bitching about pretty much eveything. My life is actually very good, but it never hurts to keep one's bitching skills honed.

H'burg Aroma-Cast: manuresque undertones; shitty

I was running down mainstreet early the other morning when I spotted a hulking, rugby-player-looking guy headed towards me making peculiar dancing / blocking manuevers. I mentally hesitated. I got a little closer and realized the guy was trying to prevent a baby rabbit from running into mainstreet. "I don't want him to get run over!" Goliath fretted. We shooed the bunny into some shrubs.

Here's what I've been reading (a whole mess of things I can't believe I haven't read before): Our Nig, Nightwood, and Going to Meet the Man. I've taught the Baldwin title story a gazillion times, but I've never read the whole collection. Stacked on the nightstand, waiting, are Annie John, The Street, and Accidental Species.

Egg Hunt for Runners

2006-04-17T08:47:00.000-05:00

Running buddy Carol and I participated in a Hash Run this past weekend: for the non-runners out there (cause I know what you're thinking: "hash, heh, heh"), a hash run involves a pack in pursuit of a lead runner who sprints ahead and marks a trail in white flour on the ground; the trick is that the lead runner marks a "true" trail but also marks many false leads. Since we were a small group, our trail was marked earlier in the day by a (devious) mountain-bike riding spouse up the side of Massanutten Mt. where there are tons of intersecting mountain bike trails. So, for example, you head along the trail to a fork where some paths might be marked with "X's" (don't go there) and "O's" (try going this way, sucker). If you head down a likely path and find an "XX," it's a false trail and you have to go back to the original fork and try another "O." The object is to see who gets to the end of the trail first (or who catches the lead); by the end of the run, everyone has had a different run based on the false leads they followed. It was extremely challenging (lots of running up and down mountain-sides, which I haven't been doing) but lots of fun. It was kind of a nice version of an easter egg hunt for runners.

Now I'm reading student essays arguing that while women's oppression is a bad thing, women in the U.S. are certainly better off here than elsewhere. While I'm a fan of the "glass-half-full" argument when it comes to Kool-Aide, I cannot accept it in defense of my basic human entitlements (reproductive rights, pay equity, freedom from violence); that is, it's not acceptable to me that my glass is half full in this regard simply because other women's glasses are almost empty. Another thing that I've noticed in student rhetoric is a tendancy to discuss "equality" not as a state of being but rather as an amount: "women are enjoying more equality." You wish.

2006-04-14T17:35:00.000-05:00

Two more weeks! Two more weeks!

I went to Cosco today and bought a strange (but not) assortment of goods: a dvd player, cat litter, and a big box of vegetarian burritos. I contemplated some new towels and four pounds of seedless grapes. I always feel really guilty at Costco: who made/picked/processed all this shit? How did it get here? Is it all going to be used (or, as happens in my refrigerator, will the last pound of grapes go rotten?)? Was that you, Allen Ginsberg, over between the hedges of stacked muffin flats? Walt? Walt?

H'burg Aroma-Cast: highly floral and pollenesque; the recently fertilized fields outside town (where I run) are rank, fetid, vomit-inducing.

Many Good Things

2006-04-08T12:38:00.000-05:00

Say it with me now, people: three more weeks! three more weeks!

As the semester nears its close, some refleciton seems appropriate. While the feminist literary theory course had an extremely shakey start that lasted, well, the first half of the semester, it really seems to have come around--to the point where I now would happily consider teaching the course again. The American Studies course has continued to be entertaining to teach, in part due to the addition of some new texts (Natan's My Freshman Year and Anderson's Feed (recommended by Dr. Wannamaker). The Introduction to Women's Studies class has of course been a pleasure. Lessons learned from this semester? No new preps until after tenure! (What the f*** was I thinking teaching two new courses?) Also, no proposing conference papers without having the paper already written! (What the f*** was I thinking....)

In addition to the welcome approach of the semester's conclusion, I've had a happy ending to my physical therapy. At the beginning of the treatment, the therapist made me state my goal for therapy (how PT is like other forms of therapy is a series of observations I'll save for another time), which was simply to run without pain. As of today's ten miler, I've had a week of pain-free running. Of course, "pain free" refers only to my knee; the rest of my out of shape, creaky, almost forty year old body has been somewhat shocked by the return to a running schedule. The slightest incline has me winded and it seems to take days to trudge through runs that were quick jaunts last fall.

The last few weeks have been over-flowing with good news:
Congrats to my former college roomie and her hubby (Jen and Ben) on the birth of their daughter!
Congrats also to my tennis buddy Eva (and her hubby Jeff) on the birth of their daughter!
Congrats to grad school buddy Jeff on the announcement of his engagement (to the excellent Leah--I look forward to meeting her)!
Congrats to former fellow MSU slave-laborer Becky (and hubby Marcus) on the announcement of their pregnancy! (Thanks for my first pod-cast ultrasound experience!)
Congrats to running buddy Carol on the announcement of her engagement to her John!

I love you guys!

H'burg Aroma-Cast: woodsmoke with floral underones. There's a forest fire in the Shenandoah National Park only fifteen miles away from town; meanwhile, the Bradford pear trees, crab-apple trees, redbud trees, and cherry trees are all blooming. Time to break out the Claritin.

H'burg Aroma-Cast

2006-03-27T20:39:00.000-05:00

H'burg Aroma-Cast: today is fine but last Friday night was awful. It smelled like burning dogfood and dogshit. Same thing, I guess.

Friend John and I watched The Aristocrats. It really wasn't funny. I mean, I guess if you're some throwback structuralist critic, you could get into the endless variations of the same joke. As a grumpy feminist, though, the film really didn't work for me. I guess I should start a category for my blog posts of "things that aren't funny."

I also finished reading Runaway, Alice Munroe's most recent collection of short stories. Despite being a professor of women's literature, I only recently "discovered" Munroe, which is such a treat. It's so great having a living author whose every new work you can depend on loving. I've never been a really avid reader of short fiction, but Munroe and Lydia Davis have really brought me around. Look for said authors on course syllabi coming to a women's fiction class near you soon.

Speaking of short fiction, I'm a big Annie Proulx fan, and when I read her collection Short Range way back when I was teaching a "Men In America" course at Michigan State, I remember thinking to myself, "I should really teach 'Brokeback Mountain' in that masculinity course. But the students will never go for gay cowboys. Nah." Wow, I was so ahead of the curve, but as always, I choked.

more physical therapy!

2006-03-25T18:10:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I've written about my running, so here goes. I guess I was avoiding the topic because its been increasingly unpleasant this spring due to the IT band issue. I went to an orthopedist a few weeks ago in order to get a scrip for some PT. The orthopedist didn't seem to think the IT band was the problem and gave me one of those catch-all diagnoses: "chondromalacia," which basically means, "Fuck! My knee hurts!" I started PT last week and so far it's been great. Some massage, some strengthening of chronic weak areas, some messing around with my orthotics, some icing, and some stretching. One thing I can say about physical therapists and stretching is that it ain't no yoga class. Whereas my yoga instructor encourages the class to only go into a pose about 80%, these therapists have been stretching me out to the point where I feel like puking (like maybe 120%). They also have me working on massaging muscles using a foam roller (basically a hard foam column about 6-8 inches in diameter and about 3 feet long), which I lie sideways on while manipulating my body back and forth in order to grind it into my IT band. Coincidentally, Runner Buddy Carol gave me one last year but with the vague instructions to "just roll around on it," and because everything I did on it hurt so much I quit using it thinking I might be doing damage. Boy was I wrong: it's supposed to hurt like a motherfucker! Who knew!

Anyways, the running is getting increasingly easier and pain-free. Phew. The semester, on the other hand.....

gluttony and some other sins

2006-03-10T12:39:00.000-05:00

Friend John and I were good tourists yesterday in Savannah, GA and went to Mrs. Wilkes' Dining Room, which you may recognize from the Food Channel/Network. It's basically a home-cooking buffet without the worry and bother of carrying yourself to the buffet repeatedly--instead the food is brought to you! The restaurant is arranged as several large tables at which strangers are seated and pass around heaping, homey bowls of mashed potatoes, blackeyed peas, greens, chicken, stew, okra, etc. The rooms are low ceiling and slightly over-heated, and the arrangement of the tables provide for the kind of forced, hearty conversations about food as the only common topic that all combined could spark flashbacks of unpleasant Thanksgivings-passed for the unprepared. Just be warned.

Everything is seasoned generously with saltpork. Like, my mouth and throat were burning from the first bite until the last. Gulping sweet-tea didn't help because apparently sugar. like salt, in large quantities burns. To prevent myself from having nothing to eat, I found it best to slip into "don't ask, don't tell" vegetarian-mode. That is, if I don't ask what's in a dish, then I don't have to reject it after learning it contains bacon/saltpork/pan-drippings. It's just easier. And tasty, too.

Friend John and I staggered around afterward in some sort of insulin or dehydration shock. It was worth it.

Crash Into You (Oscars II)

2006-03-08T15:02:00.000-05:00

Where to start with why I didn't like the movie Crash? Well, how about bell hooks' critique: via Hafidha Sofía's blog.

I've taught Crash back to back with Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing in my American Studies course in order to talk about "community" in the U.S.. The students almost unanimously prefer Haggis' film because, they assure me, "everyone does the right thing." What? Are we watching the same film? I think what's happening is that many students believe in the myth of racial progress in the U.S., and this forces them necessarily to read the more recent film Crash as racially more progressive than Lee's 1989 film, even though it's not. Students insist, in particular, that Matt Dillon's character is reformed/transformed/redeemed at the film's end, but there's no evidence either way for an argument about redemption, so I don't know where they get that reading except from some wacky ideas about race relations that they bring to the film.

Actually, the films are really interesting to pair: start with comparing the neighborhoods/cities (Brentwood, L.A. and Brooklyn, N.Y.) and the elements of a heatwaves versus a freak snowstorm; consider Lee's noisy, garrish, Sesame Street-like-surrealism and and Haggis' quiet, dark, "realism"; and consider the singificance of the presence/absence of moral centers in the films (located in various characters); does Mookie do the right thing by scapegoating Sal's pizzeria? Dillon's character does the right thing saving Thandie Newton's character but why does he do it? In theory I thought it would be interesting to compare the two films in class, but the reality was pretty disappointing.

It's Hard Out Here for a Feminist (Oscars I)

2006-03-07T17:08:00.000-05:00

You think pimps got it hard? Try using the words "patriarchy" or "oppression" in regular conversation these days and watch for the reaction.

Actually, it's not so hard being this particular feminist right now as I'm in sunny and warm Hilton Head, SC.

R.I.P. Fevvers

2006-03-03T19:42:00.000-05:00

Farewell to a dear old feline friend.

Things that aren't funny

2006-02-27T08:26:00.000-05:00

Watched Murder Ball and Maria Full of Grace yesterday with Friend John. Thumbs up on both films. Murder Ball is about quadraplegic rugby and would be interesting to use if I ever teach a masculinity course again (all the players are men--and assholes). Maria Full of Grace is about female Colombian drug mules, as you know doubt already know (I'm way behind on my film viewing).

I haven't read anything new. For my theory class I'm rereading Kincaid's Autobiography of my Mother and Cixous' "Laugh of the Medusa." Phew, those French feminists. Who's laughing now? Not me, that's for sure.

Running stinks. My left IT band issue has returned with a vengence. Return of the repressed? Possibly.

H'burg Aroma-Cast: burning manure

Learn from your mistakes, Grasshopper

2006-02-26T13:16:00.000-05:00

I made the hideous mistake of submitting a paper proposal to a conference with the idea that getting it accepted would force me to shift my schedule around in order to make time to write something. Ha! I don't even smoke crack and I come up with ideas like that!

I just got back from the conference this weekend where I delivered a distressingly half-baked paper. I've concluded that proposing a paper in order to force yourself to write it is like buying a dress two sizes too small in order to make yourself lose weight. Either way, you just end up looking bad.

I'm headed to a baby shower this afternoon. Two hours of polite chit-chat about mortgages and school districts. Save me, Xena!

priceless

2006-02-20T13:12:00.000-05:00

From my buddy Dorothy:
Slavesofacademe.blogpot

No Two Flakes or Blogs are Exactly Alike

2006-02-10T11:30:00.000-05:00

H'burg Aroma-Cast: it smells like snow. We might actually get some. The Valley is braced for the possibility of two inches of precipitation. What will we do? Will life be the same or irreparably changed after such a cataclysmic marvel? Stay tuned, non-Virginians....

What have you done for me lately?

2006-02-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

Dear NARAL, please stop calling and asking for money. I've had it. I can't sustain the ORANGE-level, terrorist-threat-to-reproductive-rights hysteria you've sought to stimulate in me for the last six years. And, by the way, about all that money I did send your way? What good did that all do?

From now on, my donations are going to WRRAP.

"bon" on abortionclinicdays sums up my feelings pretty well.

Thanks for the memories of legalized abortion.

The Perfect Storm

2006-02-04T06:02:00.000-05:00

This semester has been distinctly hectic: there have been numerous job searches in my department; I have two brand new course preps; I'm headed to conference this month and would sort of like to have a paper written and ready to present; the cats I cohabitate with still refuse to empty their own litterboxes and learn how to run the vacuum; committees, committees, and student organizations. The cherry on top has been a spike in the number of recommendations students have been asking me to write. It's not a genre that I mastered a long time ago.

This past Thursday was a perfect storm for me, during which all three of my classes were reading texts I hadn't taught before. I felt like a graduate student all over again, running around worrying about what we were going to do in class. The feminist lit theory class was discusssing a particularly dense essay by Myra Jehlen discussing (among many other things) the problem of asking questions of a text that it doesn't ask itself. The introduction to women's studies course read a chunk of the new Guerrilla Girls Bitches, Bimbos, and Ballbreakers. The American studies course read a chunk of "Rebekah Nathan's" My Freshman Year. All good stuff, but after all that my mind is running like my Honda when I'm 500 miles overdue for an oil change.

Speaking of running, how's the training going you ask? Super! I'm gradually building my miles each week. Last week I did my first 10+ miler since October. It was slow but gratifying. While I was plodding along, I realized that one of my self-destructive ways of thinking about running is that I always associate the month prior to a marathon when I'm in my absolute peak condition as "being in shape" and all the rest of the year (when I'm running 15 miles/week but am not in marathon condition) as "being out of shape." This is clearly faulty thinking.

Dogs, Running, and Terror

2006-01-16T13:14:00.000-05:00

Over many years of running, I've had several dog encounters, but yesterday's was by far the most terrifying. Running down a quiet road next to the Shenandoah River that I've run several times before, I was surprised to see two dogs hurtle themselves from the backyard of a house that hadn't previously appeared to house dogs. The lead dog was a 60-70 pound Pitbull Terrier, an unneutered male with a spike leather collar. He crossed an acre field in the same time it took my sphincter muscles to buy a ticket for Aruba.

Now most dogs who chase runners don't really chase runners; they come to end of their property and follow you its length until you've passed and they can go back to sleeping on the porch. Some dogs also make it clear that their objection to your presence is purely ceremonial and if coaxed they'll abandon the whole project and throw themselves abjectly at your feet.

This Pitbull motherfucker, on the other hand, launched himself into the road and began casually snapping at me while alternately growling and barking maniacally. All I could think was, "I'm about to get mauled by a Pitbull: what a fucking cliche" and "Aren't there laws against this?"

"What a nice dog. You should go home. Go home, now." I kept saying in a high-pitched, squeaky voice that I didn't recognize as my own. As long as I faced the dog, he wouldn't actually touch me, but as soon as I turned to run, he lunged at me again. After repeating this pattern for two or three years, he finally decided to saunter back to his buddy and head to the house--which, by the way, remained completely silent and inactive.

In honor of this exciting event, I've decided to list my top five terrifying dog encounters while running:

5. The Dachshund on Sandridge Road in Bowling Green, OH that only managed to snag my sock once (out of numerous attempts).

4. The crazy Pomeranian in Keezeltown, VA that torpedoed itself at me in such a frenzy and so ineptly it bounced off the back of my calf. (It turned out to be a really nice if slightly daffy dog.)

3. The Rottweiler in Bowling Green, OH that charged after me dragging four feet of broken chain until it got bored and went after less animated, hysterical prey.

2. The emaciated and foaming hunting dog with a camouflage GPS tracking collar that surprised me and Running Buddy Carol on rural Tilghman Road, VA. After circling us for five minutes while snarling and raging like an incensed, mid-flashback Rambo, the little voices in its head told it to fall back to the forest in case Charlie brought in back-up.

1. The Pitbull motherfucker.

Happy Birthday to Me!

2006-01-13T07:03:00.000-05:00

And you thought Friday the 13th was an unlucky day! It is indeed my birthday today. I have two birthday rituals: one is to go on a "life affirming run" and the other is to call my mom and ask her what she was doing (38) years ago. If you think about birthdays, really it's the mom who is the star.

Other than that, I don't know how I'll celebrate. I have to drive a job candidate back to the airport, so that will place me in lovely Charlottesville for lunch--near some bookstores and good restaurants. Beyond that I don't know what to do (until dinner with Friend John); I'm so exhausted from the first week of class that I'll probably have to take a "life affirming nap" this afternoon.

H'burg Aroma-cast: who has time to breathe the air?

blog for choice

2006-01-12T00:17:00.000-05:00

Get involved...

2006-01-08T17:22:00.000-05:00

I'm wondering if I can spend this semester in a medically-induced coma.

Recent Flicks

2006-01-08T12:30:00.000-05:00

I saw Syriana with my brother over the winter holiday while I was in VT. I thought the film was good but ultimately (and this was my problem with Traffic as well) it relies on an irritating cynicism, a contemporary mutation of our belief in American innocence (sort of two sides of the same coin). This cynicism seems like an endorsement of apolitical inaction--something along the lines of, "Oh well, this world and our own government are too evil and fucked up for us well-intentioned White people to figure out" and "Oh gosh, no one ever told me we're part of the problem; knowing that doesn't help anyway." It doesn't work for me.

Also, the torture scene in Syriana is way disturbing, and yet will provide a nice analogy when making arguments for why people should not have their cats declawed.

I saw King Kong with Friend John last night. I thought the special effects were great and it's a good film, although long (3 hours). There were several families with small children (under 8 years old) at the theatre, which I thought was crazy considering there's lots of frightening stuff (okay it's mostly bugs and scarey heights which I guess are my phobias). While I was entertained by the film on one level, I was really irritated by its whole premise; that is, why at this particular cultural moment are we all nostalgic for (and recreating) the racism, sexism and imperialism of the 1920s? I couldn't believe the "native" scenes. It's like American popular culture has convinced itself that any rehashing of racist ideology is necessarily "ironic" and that American audiences will see it as such. Well I'm sorry, but something like half of our population believes in angels and that the sun goes around the earth, so I don't have a lot of faith in our collective ability to see through ironic racist stereotypes.

And what's with the romanticizing abusive relationships? I mean on the one hand we have Oprah and her audiences marveling over why women stay with abusive partners; and on the other hand we have this film valorizing a woman in a relationship with "a beast" because he doesn't know his own strength and he just gets so angry; he's sorry when he hurts her; she alone really understands him; and he just loves her so much he can't help himself. Gimme a fuckin' break!

Incendiary

2006-01-07T12:36:00.000-05:00

I have always had ambivalent feelings about my production of femininity (shave the legs? the pits?). I think it comes from being a native of Vermont where concern for one's external is always dominated by the need to stay warm. Nevertheless, as I age (gracefully, damn it!), a new issue has arisen: to color the hair or not? I've done it a couple of times now, and the only thing I can say about my fabrication of youthful hair color is that I make the whole process completely transparent by going for about six months between colorings, allowing the whole illusion to fade dramatically before everyone's eyes. In other words, I'm missing the point, and I know it, and it's not even like I'm making some subversive feminist statement about beauty culture. Or maybe I am!

Anyhoo, I hit the salon today and got my brows waxed (you don't need coffee to wake you up after that), and my hair cut and colored. I look ridiculous: my brow is purplish and discolored with temporary bruising, my hairline is stained with dye, and my haircut is very nice but defamiliarizing and clearly not something I have the skills to replicate. This is beauty? And I smell intensely flammable, which I should keep in mind once I don my "first day of class" suit that I just picked up from the drycleaners. Note to self: Self, don't get too close to any open flames.

H'burg Aroma-cast: I can only smell my hair.

2006-01-05T21:10:00.000-05:00

Which Star Wars character are you?

This is a blog about running, damn it!

2006-01-04T02:38:00.000-05:00

How's the running, you ask? Loyal readers may remember my aborted marathon plans from last fall. Well, I've taken a break since then, only running between 10-15 miles per week. Now I'm ready to start a training program again--mainly because if I don't have a plan, I won't remember to run regularly once the semester gets going full swing.

I've decided to continue with the NYC Marathon training schedule, but this time I'll step back and do the "first time marathoner" plan since I'm out of shape after taking three months off. Honestly, I don't know if I'm even interested in trying to do a marathon this spring. Running buddy Carol and I have been talking about doing a couple of halfers and calling it good. I've also discovered a trail running group in the area that I want to start running with.

I purchased a six-month pass from the local gym/healthclub, which has meant that I've stepped up my yoga routine a little bit, added pilates, and could do some weight training (not!). Mostly it means I can continue running indoors on the treadmill during the worst winter weather.

Unrelated news: my highschool class is having its twentieth reunion this summer (I learned this from my hometown newspaper when I was visiting my parents over the holiday). I graduated from Hanover High School in New Hampshire in 1986. I know I'm supposed to wail, gnash my teeth, pull my hair and exclaim "I can't believe we're so old!" but really, I can't claim to be all that surprised. I mean, yeah, it feels like it's been about twenty years. I feel like I've done a reasonable amount of stuff one would expect a person to take twenty or so years to accomplish.

H'burg Aroma-cast: neutral with undertones of dog kibble

Large Things

2005-12-31T16:13:00.000-05:00

Where oh where is my vacation going? Oh where oh where could it be? I have two new classes to prep and a gajillion letters of recommendation to write. And my very important essay on America's Next Top Model to finish. And I think I'm getting a headcold.

Before Christmas Friend John and I headed down to Asheville, NC for a little weekend getaway. I had a strange desire to see The Biltmore Estate, a Vanderbilt summer cottage from the late 1800s created by architect Richard Morris Hunt and landscape-designed by Frederick Law Olmsted. The building itself was very cool, as was the interior--including lots of great art by painters such as John Singer Sargent. Although the main rooms were gorgeous and remarkably ornate, equally interesting were the quarters for the army of servants way way upstairs and the kitchens and massive laundries way way down in the basement. Even the stable was really cool. Like, if reincarnation is still on the table, hell yeah I want to be a Vanderbilt horse. Seeing the Biltmore also gave me a good visual image for thinking about Edith Wharton novels--like, no wonder Lily Bart tirelessly tagged along after these people hoping to get invited to their parties and summer holidays.

After watching a little cable tv at my parents' home, I realized my desire to see the Biltmore was completely fabricated by HGTV which seems to be generously sponsored by the estate in partnership with Lowes. It's nice to know the origins of the subliminal messages I'm helpless to resist.

The MLA was also an exercise in scale and projected grandeur. I wasn't exposed to much of it, however, as I was locked away in a hotel room as a member of a search committee, one side of the peculiar academic speed-dating pas de deux.

I had a good time being in Dc for the conference. I stayed at one of the Kimpton properties: The Topaz Hotel. It was a little goofy but definitely comfortable and more interesting than the usual hotel experience. Kimpton properties also allow pets, which I think is totally cool. I went to Kramer Books a couple of times to eat and browse and I also had a great Lebanese meal at the Lebanese Taverna on Connecticut. I miss the Middle Eastern food I used to get in Michigan so much.

So Very LL Bean

2005-12-24T11:35:00.000-05:00

I'm in lovely Vermont for the holiday. It is of course gorgeous and very wintery here. I've been running in the cold mornings and even though I only run for 25 minutes or so, my lungs afterward feel like they need to be thrown in the microwave on defrost for thirty seconds or so. And everyone is just so LL Bean around here with their Volvo/Saab/Subaru cars, black labrador dogs, practical parkas, and sensible snowboots. Every night it snows a little bit more. I haven't seen the sun in days, and the days, by the way, seem to be only six hours long.

The drive here was hellacious. I pulled off I84 to get gas and thought I had left my wallet at a McDonald's about an hour and a half earlier on I81. So I cancelled my credit cards, called McDonald's (no help), called Friend John, and drove back the hour and a half. After the McDonald's came up empty handed and I was digging through my car for the hundredth time, I found my wallet stuck way up under the passenger seat (I have no idea how it got there). I've been enjoying several days of self-loathing as a result. Not only did I add about 4 hours onto my trip, I now have to deal with credit card companies and Friend John's enduring scorn.

Right after Christmas I'm headed to DC for the MLA.

Student Life

2005-11-27T11:35:00.000-05:00

If you're looking for a little something to read and don't mind being discouraged over current trends in student life on college campuses, take a look at Alexandra Robbins' Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities (same author as Secrets of the Tomb: Skull and Bones and the Ivy League) and/or My Freshman Year: What a Professor Learned by Becoming a Student by "Rebekah Nathan." I read both texts this semester and liked both of them enough to consider including them in, respectively, my introduction to women's studies course and my introduction to American studies course next semester.

Robbins' text reveals that sororities (and the greek system generally) run completely opposite to every goal I have as an academic educator: they privilege homgeneity, conformism, intolerance, and patently uncritical thinking. The text was a surprisingly interesting read for me, considering that I don't know word one about sororities; however, I found myself doubting Robbins' research and style as she narrated events in third person through the perspectives of her interview subjects.

"Nathan's" text is also an entertaining read and had methodological issues. I appreciate most how she explores the way in which a college administration's desire to build "community" is consistently undermined by efforts to appease student-consumers by allowing unlimited choices of courses, activities, and lifestyles, or in a word, rampant individualism. I also appreciate her chapter on how international students perceive American students (rude and stupid). The only problem with the text, for which it's receiving flack from anthropologists all over, is "Nathan's" decision not to tell students in her dorm and classes that she's actually a professor and not just your "average" non-traditional student. That's a big anthropology methodological no-no. I was also amused/disappointed by "Nathan's" big *insights* into how college students live. For example, she seems very pleased to announce her discovery that the reason why campus traffic is so congested between classes is that students call roommates and friends to come pick them up in their cars. This is news to her? Perhaps this detail adds credibility to her resume as an authentic anthropologist: clearly she's been away from an academic campus for a while presumably off doing research in another part of the world. I think the text will be interesting to use in the American studies course to (1) show students how to be anthropologists/ethnographers in their own culture and (2) to offer students a text they could possibly "talk back to" from their own perspectives--we're reading Pratt's "Arts of the Contact Zone" and while its a text about colonialism and colonialist texts, it still seems like something that students could apply to Nathan's work.

Female Chauvinist Pigs

2005-11-24T16:32:00.000-05:00

Check out Ariel Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs: The Rise of Raunch Culture. It's an interesting discussion of sexuality/sexual expression, young women, and empowerment. Levy's examines phenomenons like ,Girls Gone Wild to hypothesize that women have bought into its mass-marketed, narrow definition of sexuality as the accepted form of sexual expression for women. Similarly they have bought into the marketing message that says this (limited) means of expressing sexuality is a form of women's empowerment. It's a really easy read--definitely a top contender for possible texts in my Women's Studies class next Spring. The text would work well with Foucault's History of Sexuality and its critique of Western efforts to "liberate" sexuality. One of my (few) objections to the text though is Levy's use of the term "chauvinist"--she obviously is making a play on "male chauvinist pig" but her title just confuses the meaning of the word chauvinism. Taken literally, the idea of "female chauvinism" contradicts her very precise point that women are not proud of being women; in fact, they reject women/femininity in favor of a masculine model of seuxality.

I spent/wasted the day reading and watching the National Dog Show on tv.

T-Day Epiphany

2005-11-23T17:30:00.000-05:00

I had an epiphany: I don't have to drive 10 hours home to VT in bad traffic and snow if I don't want to. And I don't want to, so I'm not going. The parents were disappointed but not the least bit put out (they actually had been wondering why I thought this trip was a good idea to begin with).

H'burg Aroma-cast: smells like snow.

Do I have time for the proper care of a blog?

2005-11-21T06:14:00.000-05:00

Oh, yes. Of course. I have a blog. Right-oh. Well, back to grading.

Harrisonburg Aroma-cast: "fear of death" stink is heavy in the air as thousands of turkeys have made their way through town stacked on flatbeds trailers in dozens of tiny crates with several birds per cage (live and dead-looking) crammed inside. Eat up, America. Be glad you don't see this end of your butterball.

Coming Clean

2005-10-26T07:55:00.000-05:00

Time to come clean and confess: I've stopped training for the Richmond marathon. I don't even have a particularly good reason (like injury for example); it's simply gotten too dark and cold for me to train regularly and comfortably. Oh, the thin-skinned wimpiness. Alas. I'll have to to remember to train for an October marathon next fall.

Basically when I returned from my conference adventure to the UP, I took a week off (due to exhaustion and an enormous stack of grading and other commitments), but then I didn't do a last twenty-two mile training run, and since then, I've only been out for short six mile runs every couple of days. I suppose I could *try* to do Richmond, but it wouldn't be much fun. And like I said, it's too cold to run for that long.

Harrisonburg Aroma-Cast: it smells like sweet-feed grain today.

Remember MacGyver?

2005-10-23T17:13:00.000-05:00

I had a remarkable experience last week. While driving alone down a back country route in the early evening to the Fort Lewis Lodge for Friend John's birthday dinner, my car got an abrupt flat tire. No sooner had I stepped out of the car, determined I had no cell coverage, looked at the flat and declared myself "completely fucked," then a woman skipped out from the house across the road from me (the only house visible for a least a mile) and chirped, "Oh, my husband can fix that." I limped my car over to their driveway and discovered that fortuitously I got a flat tire in front of essentially MacGyver's house. (Remember that show? "His mind is the ultimate weapon.") The woman's husband jacked my car up, took the tire nuts off with his compressor-run air-drill thingy, got a special pair of pliers to remove the *arrowhead* from my tire (I'm not shitting you--it looked like something from that movie _Predator_), patched my tire and sent me on my way. Less than thirty minutes--unbelievable. Wouldn't take any money. While he was working on the car, the woman took me inside to call the lodge, and I got a little tour around the house her husband built (lovely hardwood floors and walls populated by the entire Noah's ark of critters he had shot and stuffed).

What's the lesson? People are good--simple as that.

Animal vets, on the other hand, suck ass.

Harrisonburg Aroma-cast: smells like burnt feathers; better than yesterday which smelled like burning blood.

shame at the vet's

2005-10-17T16:20:00.000-05:00

I took my cat Fevvers to the vet's today to be put to sleep. Fevvers for a long time has been a vomitous kitty--it's part of her charm. For the last two weeks though she's been throwing up the entire contents of her stomach on a daily basis. My apartment has become one long smear of puke. She threw up on my ibook twice (something I thought was unforgivable at the time but have since gotten past), every square inch of carpet, every piece of furniture, and even on the balcony. She's developed over the last few years a particular flair for projectile barf. I recently pulled a book off the second shelf of a bookcase, realizing only too late that it was soggy with yak and stuck to its shelfmates. Ultimately, it's been horrible to witness this and the cat looks miserable. I've taken her to the vet before for this issue and been told to groom her to prevent hairballs, overdose her on kitty-lax, change her food, change the allotment of her food, and/or get used to it.

So, I've had it. I can't keep cleaning puke off my furniture and watching my cat dry heave. I made peace with my decision.

I sobbed all the way to the vet's office and for the 30 minutes I had to wait in the exam room (!). The vet then came in and insisted on an exam of the terrified cat. She concluded that my cat has a mass on/in her spleen, which she wants to do a series of tests and x-rays on before operating to remove the spleen.

I said, no thanks. I do not want to put my 12+ year old cat through this. Hate me if you will, but I also do not want to put my wallet through this. My cat has had a pretty good life and I feel qualified to determine when I'm prepared to not care for her any more.

To my surprise, my vet (whom I like) informed me that "not wanting to put the cat through it" is not a good enough reason to not fix a cat she knows she can fix. She looked at me with withering scorn and appeared ready to call the ASPCA.

I generated further ill will by requesting an estimate for the surgery (apparently cost should not be an issue?). The vet assistant (the vet had since rushed to the next exam room) told me they would have to call tomorrow with an estimate and that they could do some of the tests today but didn't have time to do x-rays.

I declined the tests and collected my terrified cat and left (after paying $40 for an office visit).

I'm still too distraught from the experience to process it. I feel like the world's biggest asshole for wondering, "Will someone please kill my cat?" I thought taking her to the vet would be more humane than getting a burlap sack and some river rocks, but clearly I'm not an authority here.

Low Battery

2005-10-12T04:26:00.000-05:00

After driving back from the Baltimore aiport Saturday night, I woke up Sunday morning with a completely flat battery in my car. How strange. There are two reasons I'm happy about this though. One, the battery wasn't flat when I picked up my car in airport parking Saturday night. Two, there's a garage in H'burg that is now open on Sundays (!) so I was able to get the whole thing taken care of that day. Phew.

Harrisonburg Aroma-Cast: the last two days have smelled like dogfood kibble, Harrisonburg's signature scent.

I had my permanent crowns installed on Monday. It took over an hour for the dentist to numb my mouth and then another hour to putz around fitting the crowns. Unbelievable. I was disturbed by the number of pamphlets I saw in the office for various cosmetic surgery clinics and their services. Dentistry has really stepped up the aesthetic side of its business, but it still seems strange to see dentists "synergistically" sharing ads with places that want to suck fat off your ass, cut out your veins, or stretch out your wrinkles.

Places Where Probably There Should Not Be Conferences

2005-10-06T20:55:00.001-05:00

My experience in the UP is revealing to me that there are some places that should not host academic conferences (or any conferences for that matter). Don't get me wrong; it's gorgeous up here in Houghton. I went running today on the waterfront trail and (in the driving rain and snow) took in some of the fall foliage colors. The organizers here have also done a great job: the panels are well timed; there were plenty of keynote breaks planned; good food; good transportation, etc.

However, the logistics of getting to this place combined with inclement weather have really compromised this conference. There are only so many flights into Houghton (from Minneapolis only) on little puddle-jumper planes. So on Wednesday the first day of the conference, the weather was really crappy (lots of rain and impenetrable fog), and two flights were cancelled, leaving lots of conference goers stranded in Minneapolis waiting for imaginary seats on the next tiny, overbooked, flight. At this point, many presenters gave up. Some took the airline's offer for a busride from the twin cities to Houghton (an eight hour trip).

The result is that the attendance here has been disrupted. Almost every panel I've been to has had at least one presenter absent (usually the one I wanted to hear!). Two of the three keynotes I wanted to hear cancelled as well. The on-going conversation at this conference has been "nightmare traveling adventures and disasters."

It's really too bad because, like I said, the organizers did a great job.

Off to the UP

2005-10-05T04:03:00.000-05:00

I'm leaving later today for a conference at Michigan Tech University, *way* up in the UP of Michigan (where snow flurries are predicted for tomorrow). I'm presenting a paper on "America's Next Top Model" (really!). I'll be talking about the rhetoric of ethnicity as optional/style. It's not quite done yet....

I'm very excited to get away from campus, hang out at a cool conference, as well as have some uninterrupted coffeeshop time for grading the thousands of student essays I seem to have acquired. Joy!

I'm bummed that the conference is so far away and hard to get to though. Originally I proposed a panel, but my colleagues realized belatedly that as "visiting faculty" at their institutions, they weren't given the resources to travel to the North Pole for a conference. So I got shuffled around (right up until the last minute) and ended up on a panel that is clearly exhibiting signs of a personality disorder. What a drag. Oh, and Donna Haraway, the keynote, cancelled. Hey, I'll take her slot.

I'm bringing the running shoes (new) as well as running tights (not shorts).

Harrisonburg Aroma-cast: it smelled like sour milk and burnt chicken feathers yesterday.

Nanny 911

2005-10-01T06:01:00.000-05:00

My new theory is that the television show Nanny 911 is one of the most feminist shows on television today. Week after week we see silly British women descend upon American households where mother/wives have self-sacrificed themselves into early graves and clueless father/husbands stand by and wonder why the children are out of control and the domestic scene is in shambles. The nannies proceed to dope-slap the husbands and pep-talk the wives into realizing that she can't do it all: the children need to pitch in and the husbands need to act like parents and responsible partners. Fascinating.

Don't get me wrong--even though I think the show is somewhat feminist, I think that's where its politics sort of begin and really end. To my knowledge, it has never featured a family that is other than white, middle-class. How would the nannies explain/handle racism and classism? And I'm still waiting for the gay/lesbian family episode.

Harrisonburg Aroma-cast: something like glue is burning.

2005-09-28T16:14:00.000-05:00

Harrisonburg Aroma-Cast: neutral blend of industrial and farm; not un-pleasant; undertones of autumn.

I sat in on a colleague's class last night in the role of observer (she's coming up for promotion and even though/because I'm junior faculty, I was entrusted with this responsibility). The course was an advanced poetry workshop, something I've never taken let alone tried to teach. I garnered a renewed respect for my poet friends out there, especially Mighty Jane Holwerda, veteran poet and teacher. Phew, it's a daunting task teaching 20 year olds to read and write poetry simultaneously.

King Me

2005-09-27T14:00:00.000-05:00

I went to the dentist yesterday to have my temporary crowns removed and replaced by the permanent ones. I was not aware that this part of the procedure would hurt. The dental assistant only got one hardy tug in before I burst into tears and had to reschedule my "crowning" for a time when I can be novocained into oblivion.
How embarrassing.

Harrisonburg Aroma-cast: smells like chicken manure today.

Triathalons

2005-09-19T05:39:00.000-05:00

I've decided that I'm a triathlete of sorts. For the last month I've been combining running, yoga, and tennis every week. The next step is to have my sport officially recognized. Too bad triathalons and duathalons for that matter don't let you select the events you want to participate in--like a sport activity buffet (pronounced "boooo-fay" here in VA thank you).

I'm feeling healthy and trained enough to run a marathon earlier to and instead of Richmond 11/12, which might be a good idea given the amount of work I have to do this semester. The Baltimore marathon is 10/15 this year so that's a possibility. It's probably a better idea for me to stick to the original plan though.

Note to self: Self, you need new running shoes. It's hard to get excited about dropping $100 on new running shoes when I have to get new contact lenses soon and get my final crowns installed next week. Of course I can pay $100 for shoes now and hopefully thereby avoid thousands of dollars in orthopedic surgery later.

How's the Running?

2005-09-16T07:15:00.000-05:00

Loyal readers will remember that I made a change in plans for my training for this marathon. Instead of going with the tried and true Hal Higdon plan, I opted to try out the NYC Basic Marathon Training Plan. So far so good. The main differences with this plan are that it alternates long run weekends with short run weekends (unlike HH which built increasingly longer runs for two weekends before shortening the third weekend run as a rest) and it has a greater overall number of long runs that are over twenty miles. My IT band is bothersome after two 18-milers and one 20-miler, but it's not incapacitating yet which is better than last spring's training. Signs of success?

Bush Disaster

2005-09-12T19:55:00.000-05:00

Bush Disaster,
originally uploaded by Quite Contrary.

A priceless image from Tamara.

"35"

2005-09-12T07:26:00.000-05:00

Friend John and I watched the men's finals of the US Open last night (Agassi v. Federer). The media seemed obsessed with Agassi's age, calling him "graybeard" and repeating "35 years old" every time they discussed him. I proposed to John that we create a drinking game out of the age reference, but then dismissed my idea with the consideration that as adults over the age of 35, we probably couldn't handle the demands of such a competition. Alas.

I like both Federer and Agassi quite a bit, but I was sad that Agassi lost. Yeah, boo hoo, he gets to go home to Steffi Graf and their gorgeous kids.

How's my tennis game, you wonder? Well, shakey, but determined. After uh, "mastering," serves, my class has advanced to playing games for *points*, and we're thrilled (although Friend John suggested we start playing for money to really liven things up).

From Friend Ben...

2005-09-07T12:44:00.000-05:00

...an amazing National Geographic article that predicted the New Orleans disaster.

I've lost the will to blog

2005-09-03T10:36:00.000-05:00

My energies have been directed elsewhere, though I'm not entirely sure where...Since I've returned from my second trip to VT I've been getting ready for classes, which started this week. I'm strangely homesick for New England these days. I've started the peculiar habit of streaming my NPR from the New Hampshire station I listen to at my parents' place in VT.

Classes should be great this year. I'm teaching an upper level course on Toni Morrison's fiction, and most of the students appear to be big fans just like myself. Yahoo. I'm also teaching the female Bildungsroman course again. It's overenrolled but should be okay since I just taught it in May. Last but not least there's the American Studies course. I've tweaked it a little to try to make it easier on myself. Many of my colleagues are teaching AMST this term, so I'm looking forward to some good conversations about the course.

I'm struggling to get all these classes completely up and running (I'm never totally ready at the beginning of the term); meanwhile, I've been working on the Women's Studies webpage which was a mess (can't say I've made it that much better but at least now the info is up to date), proposals to bring my buddy Mark Howell to campus next Spring to talk about NASCAR as a "visiting scholar," doing the final edit on an essay that's been accepted by GENDERS (woo hoo!), and working with the 2 student groups for which I'm an advisor. I'm a little concerned about one of the groups, Freethinkers, this year. Like other such organizations around the country, it's a group that explores issues of organized religion from an atheist/agnostic/secularist point of view. This year's group is interested in more actively engaging with (antagonizing?) the Campus Crusade for Life group, which I guess I could get excited about but I'm feeling awfully middle-aged and mellow about the battles I pick these days. We'll see.

In addition to training for the Richmond marathon, I started tennis lessons this summer. I love it, but it's hard learning a new sport.

Like everyone else, I'm completely horrified by the hurricane and aftermath in New Orleans and the Gulf coast area. I love it that the president of Venezuela offered aid and then called Bush the King of Vacations. Stupid Bush. Stupid insenstive Bush. I listened to his comments from New Orleans yesterday evening and practically had a stroke. He was talking about rebuilding the Gulf coast using the analogy of how Trent Lott will rebuild his beach front mansion "even bigger and better." Fuck you, Bush, and your little dog Trent Lott too. I have no doubt that Lott will have a bigger, better mansion to live in someday (although we can hope it'll be a jail). But that in no way compares to the "rebuilding" that people who live in New Orleans in poverty and have lived there for multiple generations will face. Bush probably thinks New Orleans will be rebuilt "bigger and better" because the 30% of the population that lived there in poverty has been washed out, pushed out, bussed out, and burned out.

Relatedly, I guess, I paid $30 to fill up my Honda today. Whoa. The tank only holds 10 gallons. Happily, the car gets amazing mileage. I was getting two of my teeth shaved/shaped for crowns by an evil Republican dentist the other day, who was boasting to the hygenist that his truck gets 18 miles to the gallon (to her truck's 16 miles) because it's a diesel. At that point in the procedure, in spite of one generous shot of novocaine and two equally generous shots of septocaine (apparently I'm hard to numb? we all have secret talents? by the time all the drugs kicked in, I couldn't blink on that side for two hours), I felt compelled to point out that my Honda gets 40-45 miles per gallon on the highway. My point seemed undermined by the fact that I was drooling on myself. I can't believe my (very expensive) dental work is subsidizing that wonk driving around in pickup. What does he need a truck for? To pick up shipments of gauze?

What D&D character am I?

2005-08-22T15:16:00.000-05:00

I Am A: Neutral Good Half-Elf Ranger Fighter

Alignment:
Neutral Good characters believe in the power of good above all else. They will work to make the world a better place, and will do whatever is necessary to bring that about, whether it goes for or against whatever is considered 'normal'.

Race:
Half-Elves are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.

Primary Class:
Rangers are the defenders of nature and the elements. They are in tune with the Earth, and work to keep it safe and healthy.

Secondary Class:
Fighters are the warriors. They use weapons to accomplish their goals. This isn't to say that they aren't intelligent, but that they do, in fact, believe that violence is frequently the answer.

Deity:
Mielikki is the Neutral Good goddess of the forest and autumn. She is also known as the Lady of the Forest, and is the Patron of Rangers. Her followers are devoted to nature, and believe in the positive and outreaching elements of it. They use light armor, and a variety of weapons suitable for hunting, which they are quite skilled at. Mielikki's symbol is a unicorn head.

Find out What D&D Character Are You?

Things that recently irritate me...

2005-08-08T07:54:00.000-05:00

As my summer draws to a close, I find myself a little short of patience and tolerance. Last night at yoga a blonde twenty-something woman (Kappa Kappa Omigod!) derailed the experience for me by farting (quiet deadly kind) through the entire class. Reminder: do not consume large amounts of beer the night before yoga class or position mat near someone who has.

Another irritant: Lance Armstrong. I know, I know. How can you not like Lance? Five time Tour de France superhero and cancer survivor! Well, read his book It's Not About the Bike, which btw is a great read. I highly recommend it as a good beach book. Anyways, when I read it I was inclined not to like Armstrong because I had the vague sense that he was offensively cocky (contrary to popular American sentiment, if the French don't like something, I tend to side with them), but then I discovered that not only is he offensively cocky, but that he dumped the girlfriend who stood by him through cancer for his current wife (whom he's dumped for La Crow), and that his dominant message concerning cancer is that his ferocious athletic attitude and willpower "beat" the disease. The metaphor of cancer as competition (with loosers and winners) is what I can't take. If one dies of cancer, then did one not want it [to live] "bad enough"? Please. It reminds me of Art Spiegelman's conversation with his therapist about his father's survival of Auschwitz (MAUS II) during which the therapist speculates that Art's father Vladek is constantly asserting his "superior" talents to compensate for his survivor's guilt since surviving Auschwitz had nothing to do with talent and everything to do with simple luck/misfortune.

The other thing that is irritating me is how whole "cult of the child" cultural ideology is encouraging excessive affirmation (for breathtaking mediocrity) to the extent that students arrive at college expecting doorprizes just for showing up to class. As my colleague Cynthia is fond of saying, "I'm sorry, you don't get prizes for not robbing banks!" I was reminded of this irritant this weekend while listening to NPR's excellent Wait Wait Don't Tell Me which featured Illinois senator Barack Obama as a guest for the "Not My Job" segment. Peter Sagal was hassling him for a speech he gave over Father's Day protesting the creation of graduation ceremonies for eighth graders. Essentially Obama's rant was something like "They don't need balloons and flowers; they need to be told to sit their butts down and get to work for the next four years!" Yeah! Right on! Will you be our president?

Change of plans...

2005-08-04T07:48:00.000-05:00

Here's Week Four of the Hal Higdon training plan, but I'm thinking of making a change in plans. Higdon's Intermediate I plan has been good for me, but my goal for this marathon is to avoid the unpleasant experience I had during Delaware when I had to walk for about a mile around mile 23. That sucked. To avoid this experience, I'd like to try following a plan that has more 20 mile runs prior to the marathon and even a run or two that is greater than 20 miles.
So I'm comparing two plans:

The first is Higdon's Intermediate Level II plan

and the other is the NYC marathon Basic plan (you have to scroll down a little), which running buddy Carol is going to attempt. The advantage of the NYC plan is it has two 18 mile runs, three 20 mile runs, and a 22 miler. You're either really ready for your marathon or half dead.

Summer of Faulkner

2005-08-03T12:15:00.000-05:00

While I'm not reading Faulkner along with Oprah this summer, as my friend Steve is, I still was able to appreciate the 2005 Faux Faulkner Contest winners and runners-up.

Week Three

2005-07-26T08:16:00.000-05:00

Here's the plan for training for week three. Running is easy and fun at this stage of the training program. I'm already losing some of the weight I gained this summer when I cut back on running but continued eating like I was still training. Oops. I'm not getting any younger....

I did my long run easily this weekend in an area known as Ramsey's Draft. As this website attests, it's one of the last stands of virgin forest in VA. I still haven't been able to figure out what a "draft" is though. The website also ominously warns of the wooly adelgid menace, whose effects I've witnessed in Shenandoah Nat'l Park, where all the hemlock trees are dead sticks or simply absent.

I hit the local farmers' market this morning after my run, but I didn't get anything because I can only get so excited about tons of tomatoes and zucchini. I'm waiting for raspberry season, but I fear I may have missed it. Last week someone had French green beans or haricourt verts, which were awesome when I roasted them in the oven with garlic cloves. No such luck this week. I have to say, the farmers' market here is nice, but not as good as the Norwich Famers' Market in Vermont, which still is not as cool as its competitor, the Sterns' produce stand just down the road, which gets daily produce in from Boston and is totally affordable.

I'm still on a Vermont kick even though I've been back in VA for almost two weeks. Some other cool things I did in VT: got bread every few days at the King Arthur bakery which is located in my hometown of Norwich; I also bought Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi at the Norwich Bookstore, after unsuccessfully looking for it in the hideously and uselessly renovated Dartmouth bookstore; I also rode on the the Lake Champlain ferry with my dad.

Something I didn't do and will do next summer is visit VINS, the Vermont Institute of Natural Science which appears to have an excellent raptor rehab program and exhibits.

Week Two

2005-07-21T12:20:00.000-05:00

It seems like I've completely forgotten why I started this blog in the first place: as a running journal.

For this fall I'm making plans to run The Richmond Marathon, simply because it's close by and I haven't run a marathon in VA yet. Running Buddy Carol got into the NYC marathon, which is a week earlier than Richmond, which means we'll be more or less on the same schedule again. Cool.

Once again, I'm relying on Hal Higdon's training schedule--the Level I Intermediate. Here's the plan for this week, Week Two. I have no great insights into how I'm going to train this time around, simply because I don't really have any new goals. I want to finish and that's pretty much it. How's that for under-achieving?

What I did over my summer break...

2005-07-18T17:05:00.000-05:00

I'm waiting to see if an evening thunderstorm is going to manifest itself or not, so I thought I'd check on my much neglected blog.

After extending my visit to participate in some of my mother's medical appointments, I returned to VA from VT last Thursday and immediately had to read a thesis for a graduating MA candidate. Then I went to C'ville with friend John for the weekend. It doesn't really feel like I've been back at all. Vermont was wonderful and I miss my family a lot.

Two fun things I did during my three weeks in Vermont:
* I mowed around my parents' property using their DR Mower, a fine Vermont product designed to tackle high grasses and brush, characteristics that aptly describe my parents' "lawn". Mayhem ensued, including an assault on my mother's rosehedge, which I dislike because it nevers blooms and has ferocious thorns, and a mistaken razing of the chives. Mea Culpa.

* Along with my brother and dad, I hiked the Bill Ballard Trail, a very lovely nature trail on conservation land named for a former Dartmouth professor and local conservationist. My father, who btw turns eighty-one in August, is a logger, so it was interesting being on a "nature hike" in the woods (his office--kinda) with him. He can identify any type of tree cut or standing, by leaf, bark, or grain. He spent most of the hike, though, speculating on all the "money trees" (ones that would turn decent profit if logged) visible from the trail, which freaked me out a little until I tried looking at the woods from what I think is his perspective. One hundred years ago Vermont was only 10% forested as most of the countryside was cleared for pasturing sheep; today, however, that statistic is exactly reversed with 90% of the land being covered by forests. Over the last eight decades my father has witnessed this relentless advance of the treeline--that might make it difficult to see the forest as an endangered resource in need of conservation. It was a very instructive hike.

What?! I have a blog?!

2005-07-03T16:30:00.000-05:00

I forgot I have a blog. Oops. What's new in my life since June 12th?

I finished my summer course, which was a complete pleasure. Good books were read and discussed by all. I'm particularly pleased because this fall I'll be teaching basically the same course expanded for a regular 16 week semester. If the Fall section is even half as much fun as the summer course was, it'll be a blast. Another thing to look forward to this fall: my course on Toni Morrison and motherhood. It's a 400 level course during which we'll read all of Morrison's novels. My personal hell right now involves sifting through abundant Morrison scholarship looking for appropriate secondary readings.

After the course finished, I spent a week with an atrocious headcold that made me want to die early--and yet, the patient lives! I still did a little running and a lot of reading. I puttered on campus a little bit too since I'm trying to up-date the women's studies website--more on that some other time. I started working on My Very Important essay on America's Next Top Model (which I capitalize in order to lend it the legitimacy some might think it otherwise lacks)--more on that some other time too.

Right now I'm in lovely Vermont visiting my family. I'm in the middle of a two week stay, and it's really been a pleasure. To me, there's is no more lovely area than VT especially in the summer. Each time I've left VA for VT, I've doubted my sense that VT is the superior locale, but by the time I arrive in the Green Mts., my tastes are reconfirmed. I think the terrain is comparable, but the natural environment here is less infringed upon by humans. The social environment also better suits my tastes as Vermont is refreshingly progressive and secular. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've heard one mention of "jesus" since arriving here and no one has even tried so much as to bestow a "bless your heart" upon me. Phew.

Right now I'm in a Panera's enjoying a lemonade, free wifi, and a reunion with cell phone coverage. Surprisingly, I haven't missed either of these conveniences here.

Did I mention I saw a moose today?