Conferences: Academic Word Vomit

Conferences are one of those things I vaguely remember hearing about in undergrad, though I mostly only remember them being the reason my professors cancelled classes. But I am only now learning more about "Why the f*ck would people want to sit around and listen to other people talk about random shit they decided to study or research?!" It's a subtle art, you see.

My experience goes like this: I presented at two undergrad conferences one in 2007 and again in 2009. These were the kinds of conferences everyone got into. I talked about fairy tales in one and surrogacy in another. Neither of which are topics I decided to pursue at length. Not a big deal, but it was still something to put on a resume (or as I now call it, a vitae. Fancy). Last weekend I had the opportunity to present at PCM, a conference for students at the college where I attend grad school. I assumed this conference was in a similar vein --though one guy was pissed he wasn't accepted and presented a poem during the doggerel about his experience in which the conference judges were equated with a cup that he then smashed. It was a mess. Did I mention there was free beer?

Anyway, this weekend I am traveling with two lovely ladies (Katlyn and Andi...actually, let me just change that to "ladies." Mmmkay.) to Savannah, GA to present at The 21st Annual British Commonwealth and Postcolonial Studies Conference. Now that sounds fancy. I am hoping this will feel like a different sort of conference. More relevance, but without any additional nervousness. I hope the only vomit that spews from my mouth is of the academic variety.

Our panel is on the living dead as seen in modern film. That's right, folks: zombies. I talk about The Walking Dead. There's also Children of Men and Firefly  among a plethora of other super-interesting topics of discussion. In short, our panel is going to rock! So I guess it doesn't matter if the conference seems more legit or not because we intend to have a blast!

As my professor said, "we are letting the zombies loose onto the world"...or something like that. He also said "May the force be with you" which was nice.

I hope to provide updates on our awesome adventures in the days to come!

My Zombie Text Date

I was gearing up for The Walking Dead tonight and had anticipated texting/watching the show remotely with a friend, Katlyn. This friend, however, succumbed to the peer pressure of her sister and boyfriend and watched The Grammy's instead! The horror!

After she texted asking me not to text her spoilers, I decided to text her to tell her what happened:

Me: They all just died. The show is over.

Katlyn: Fuck you.

Me: Shane and Rick are f*cking. Holy sh*t!

Katlyn: Hahahahaha

Me: Omg I can't believe the zombies are controlled by Voodoo aliens!!

Katlyn: Hahaha is the show filming in New Orleans now? It's moved to a Cajun setting!!

Me: Yes, it's crazy! Carl is the new group leader. They are hanging and watching zombies play football in the stadium.

Katlyn: Dude, this actually sounds like a good show!!

Me: The Candid Camera crew just came out and surprised the group--the whole thing was a set up!

Katlyn: Bahahaha damn! I thought it was all gonna be a dream!!

Me: Darabont isn't pulling a Bob Newhart. Now he's making the cast duke it out in a jello pit.

(Clearly bored with the Grammys now and wishing she were watching tv with me...)

Katlyn: Oh fuck. I guess that means Shane and Rick are f*cking again. I think it's gonna be a parallel universe/purgatory.

Me: Jack and Sawyer just joined in on the fight. They are all running from the black smoke monster.

Katlyn: This is perfect. Benjamin Linus is about to show up and reveal his master plan. He plays the governor.

Me: Juliet is talking with Lori about her bastard baby and the governor is making zombie Hurley fight zombie Nick Frost.

Katlyn: Zombie Hurley FTW!

Me: I'm blogging this.

Katlyn: You definitely should.


The moral of the story is if you stand me up for a remote tv watching date, I will harass the shit out of you and you will like it.

This is my brain on grad school

I spent all of last year adjusting to life as a grad student and the entirety of the summer detoxing, if you will.

Replace the word "drugs" with the word "academia."

Now that I am back in grad school, I am addicted yet again and I love it so much. But is it the best thing for me? That, I still don't know. I just don't know.

What I do know is that I haven't blogged in over a year, but my blog has still had lots of traffic from people looking for info on Lisa Frank binders. Clearly my priorities are out of whack. I will go back to writing about the important things in life like bright pink kittens and neon unicorns. Also Amish people.

The Commute: Graveyards, The Amish, and Nudity

Commuting to school is a new thing to me; I live 10 minutes from the college I went to as an undergraduate. I had days when I woke up 30 minutes before class and still made it on time all while looking cute. My alma mater was a commuter school so everyone drove, but I still felt lucky to have something so close to home. Now it takes me and hour and a half to get to class. That doesn't even count getting ready, getting the kids ready and to daycare, and getting food. The kids used to be able to stay home as we could easily fit a 10 minute commute into our daily work lives and schedule rearrangements. Clearly this commute is a brand new concept to me and though it is frustrating on those days when I have forgotten my lunch or a book I really need, it's still not all bad.

I can listen to music as loud as I want while I am driving. Children have what I imagine to be cute little sensitive eardrums. I know this isn't so much true as it is my projection of guilt over ruining eardrums because I want to listen to the Wicked soundtrack as loud as I possibly can. Who am I to rob them of their sense of hearing? I'll let them do that themselves when they go through that phase in high school.

I see interesting things along the way as well. One of my favorite sights is a small church with  huge graveyard next to it. Oh yeah, it also has a playground right in the graveyard. Who thought this was a good idea? Do the kids like it? Do they even know it's weird? I don't know any of these things, but I do know that I can't help but laugh a little every time I see it. I need to take a picture of this place! I also pass two gas stations, a mom n pop shop, and a Dollar General. That's it. Other than a few houses, it's basically just me and the creepy playground. Oh and some Amish people.

The other day, I saw a farmer harvesting his field. It was amazing! This farmer had two huge machines and a semi-truck following behind to catch the harvest. Then, I saw the Amish farm which was using a horse and some little metal thing (Clearly I need to brush up on my farming jargon) along with a few guys working REALLY hard. There is a story there somewhere though for now it will remain an anecdote. Also, Amish guys are kinda hot (inbreeding aside).

Speaking of awesome people, I saw a naked lady the other day. She was going out to get her mail wrapped only in a blanket. The wind must have decided she should show the world her aged body and, really,  she didn't much fight it. Next time, I hope she realizes the power to be had in accepting one's desire to be naked in public. Embrace it, naked lady. Embrace it. Or just put on clothes instead of a blanket.

Sometimes Life Takes Over

Sometimes I think the phrase, "Just living life" is misused. It is used by people who are doing nothing, but want it to describe the lazy type of life they choose to live (I'm not knocking this, but come on). Sometimes it is used by people who work too much at crappy jobs, making just enough to get by. Sometimes, it is used to romanticize our teen years (it wasn't that great, y'all).

For me, this phrase describes how my life has been for years. I have been doing a lot: marriage, kids, friends, school, work, and all of it is done well. But I have no idea how. I am not complaining: I love my life! But sometimes, reflecting on my life, I realize I would to know how to advise someone on how to balance all of these things. Have I even been doing these things? Who has been living my life for me, accomplishing all of these things?! Am I just living life?

I do have a major case of imposter syndrome, which gives me the amazing ability to be unable to internalize my own accomplishments (go me!), but this is beyond even that.

During orientation for grad school, everyone kept saying, "Balance!" As in, find balance between personal and professional lives, making sure to keep our feet, (or hands, or at least noses), in all parts of our lives, not losing anything as we continue to grow as people. I think I already do this, though unintentionally. I always make sure to watch a few crappy shows on tv, or to go out for ice cream, or take the kids to the park, just to watch them run and laugh.

Though for now I am unable to read for pleasure and I still can't shake the guilt I sometimes feel for having fun instead of preparing for class, I have balance and it's good. Laundry is being folded, children are being raised, friendship is being had, learning is being done. Life is good, even though it does seem to have a mind of its own.

Free Stuff is Scary

I recently decided to have a free yard sale. I had a basement full of stuff that wasn't being used that was just taking up lots of space. I hat tagging things and deciding if something is worth a dime, a quarter, or (gasp) a dollar. Having a free yard sale seemed like a great idea. Other people need stuff that I no longer need. Awesome.

I thought over the whole thing and decided a donation box would be appropriate. Perhaps some people would feel uncomfortable taking things for free. In fact, people have been caught completely off guard with the word "free."

Yard Sale Patron: "How much is this?"

I suppose this does look suspicious.

Me: "It's free. Everything is free"

Yard Sale Patron: "And this?"

Me: "Free."

Yard Sale Patron: "You mean this sheet with a hole in it is free?"

Me: "Yes, ma'am, it is."

Yard Sale Patron: "Oh, but I should give you something."

Me: "No, no, it's free. I hope you get some use out of it."

Yard Sale Patron: "I will. Here's a dollar."

This has been how most of the conversations have gone. I accept the money, of course, but I find it so interesting that people are unwilling to take free things. Are people leery of the word "Free" even if it doesn't involve any real commitment?

Many people have taken a couple of bags of stuff and decided they should give me a dollar or two. One old lady even gave my son a dollar for helping me with the yard sale.

People just don't know what to make of it.

Free stuff: please take. Please. But who in their right mind would get rid of a Beavis and Butt head CD for free?!

Update: I now have $21  and a de-cluttered basement from my free yard sale!

School Supplies

A Lisa Frank binder. Caution: Not a Trapper Keeper!

I went shopping for school supplies yesterday. Yes, I am about to go to grad school and not kindergarten. No, I did not buy crayons. I bought a planner and some new ink pens, but I really wanted a new backpack and maybe a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper. Those were the days. 

What it means to begin a school year has, of course, changed for me over the years, but the need to stock up on paper, pens, and containers for those papers and pens has not changed. It felt good to walk through the aisles of crayons, markers, and erasers even though I bought fancy ink pens instead. The anxiety that comes with a new school year is the same no matter how old you are. School supply therapy helps, though. 

Soon, I will neatly pack my notebook, folders, planner, ink pens, and my MacBook into my bag. In class, I will pull out my stuff, glancing around to make sure I have the coolest ink pens. Then, I will move on to learning. Or whatever.

Drafted

Upon realizing I had not posted my blog for yesterday, I also realized I have not posted a few other blogs. Posting them now seems silly as the anniversary of moving into our house has passed and the post about whether or not I should grieve about the death of my husband's not-so-close brother is no longer relevant. (The answer: I should, but I didn't). I realized I have various states of blogging. I have blogs in my mind that only need typing, I have ideas that are evolving, but not yet complete or ready to be explored verbally, and apparently I have other that, though finished, are unfit for the internet to see. I don't decide this. Perhaps my computer does.

Ideas and words are such weird things. I pretend to have control over them, but I don't. Clearly.

It is, however, also clear that I need to learn to control them in order to maintain my sanity.

Book Thursday: Cleansing the Mental Palate

(oops...this should have been posted yesterday. Alas.)

Normally, for Thursdays,  I would like to write about a specific book, reflecting upon the book itself and attempting to fit this book into some sort of larger picture. I have been doing a lot of reading these past few weeks and, although I did read some amazing books, I encountered a problem with reading that I found much more interesting.

After finishing Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, I found it incredibly difficult to do much of anything else much less read any other books. The book crippled me mentally. In a good way, of course. I felt trapped in London Below and, although I enjoyed it there, I wanted to leave before reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks or The Things They Carried. HeLa cells and the Vietnam War are far from the sewers of London and the need to detach was obvious. I needed a mental cleanse. I enjoyed this book very much, but it wasn't my favorite book. I am not sure what it was about this book that struck me this way.

I tried reading children's books, writing down my thoughts, napping, but nothing could get me away from Neverwhere. Finally I had to just dig into my book. The thing is, though, that I didn't want to erase my thoughts and memories of Neverwhere completely. I am not sure how I hid them away in order to function normally, but I did. I suppose this is a good time to come up with an emergency plan: a way to cleanse my mental palatte after reading the next especially powerful book.

Here are a few images from the book. Have you read this book? Perhaps now you will. Please, tell me how you managed to escape from London Below (or Above!).

And so it begins...

I have had some problems registering for grad school classes. In fact, at one point, no classes had any spots available for any students. Eventually, though, I was able to register for a few classes that didn't much interest me. A start.

"At least I am taking classes at all!", I thought.

But really, this degree was meant to be molded around my particular wants and needs in an upper-level education. I admitted to myself that I was disappointed with the way things were going and considered getting a job instead. What's the point in grad school if I am just going to be forced to take more bullshit courses while I wait around for the good classes? That's what an undergraduate degree is for.

Today, I was informed that the waiting list for the courses I wanted had dwindled from 4 (for a class that only takes 8 people total) to none and I was allowed to register! Now, I can officially consider the semester to come with excitement as opposed to dread. I am taking classes I want to take.

I just ordered 15 books from Amazon (I already had a few of the required texts) so I know it's going to be a busy few months. I so look forward to digging into those books! I hope I don't frighten the mailman when I meet him at the door and snatch the books form him, drooling all the while. Actually I don't mind.

I know I am going to continue to go back and forth as far as wondering if grad school is, in fact, the right thing to do, but I must remember how I feel when things are going well. I am giddy with excitement right now. I could not be happier that things are finally falling into place for me. And although I still have a few things to work out (why don't children come with nannies? When will I sleep? ), I am absolutely certain that things are looking up.

Priorities in Language

My youngest son, Luke, is slowly but surely acquiring language and speaking skills. He will talk at you for hours, saying nothing at all, but being so sure of what he is saying that you must take him seriously. Lately, though, he has started using actual words; and using them correctly. The following words make up his entire "real" vocabulary:

• no
• yes
• up
• uh-uh
• mama
• bite
• O (for Owen, his brother)
• chuga-chuga-choo-choo

His priorities are clear here. He is also working on saying "thank you", but he says it begrudgingly and never clearly. According to my baby book, my first words were "baby" and "cookie"; I was a selfish fatty from the beginning.

Who do you write like?

A recent internet meme allows you to copy and paste text which an application then analyzes and tells you who you write like. I find it particularly interesting because it says that I write like H.P. Lovecraft (and in one instance Arthur Conan Doyle). Awesome!


http://www.boingboing.net/2010/07/15/chances-are-you-writ.html

Now, though, I feel compelled to write amazing, suspenseful, horrific things. The result will rest on my desktop and remain unseen by anyone but myself, but still, I will write.

Also, I tried to find a great Lovecraft quote and was sucked into reading pages and pages of things I have read many times over. That is true power.

Who do you write like?

Book Thursday: Eats, Shoots and Leaves

As an English major (wait, I have a degree...now how do I defend my nerd status?), I have always felt a particularly strong inadequacy when it came to punctuation. I picked up Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss out of the desire to be entertained (yes, I am still a nerd) and also because I hoped to learn a little about commas: my epic weakness.

As I type this, I worry that I am making mistake after mistake. I will not proofread this entry out of fear. If I do, I will dwell on each comma, questioning my every key stroke. I don't want to put myself through that.

I did learn much about the history of punctuation, the evolution of the comma, and the arguments over the proper usage or necessity of various marks of punctuation. I also learned more about my beloved interrobang!

This book got me thinking about where punctuation will be in the future. Text messages read like a punctuation-less hell, a grammarian's nightmare, and a spelling, well, I don't have time to talk about that now. This, is the primary method of communication for many young people (including myself) and yet, we don't take the time to communicate properly. Are these formalities on the way out? As Truss noted, improper English and incorrect usage has bled over into popular media and the internet is not edited. Where does this leave correct grammar and punctuation?

Though English evolved within the lower classes and is always changing due to the need of the people, (English is very much alive and fluid) I can't help but feel nostalgia for complete sentences with periods and everything! I appreciate it when I am easily able to read a paragraph and not wonder about the author's intentions.

I, too, am still learning about punctuation and grammar: it is a constant battle. It is one that can, however, be won and the reward is a wonderful one: the ability to communicate well. In a world where communication is lacking and yet ever so important, I see no reason to mess up one of the keys to clear, concise communication. Learning to communicate clearly doesn't have to be stressful, but it does require effort!

(This entry was proofread, but not dwelled upon)

Egumacashun

I have a college degree. Really. And now I am a graduate student.

This marks a big change in my life and in my blog.

As a woman, mother, student, feminist, friend, sister, daughter, and wife (among many other things), I find that, most times, my ramblings are far from articulate and usually thrust upon unwilling listeners and readers.

This blog--and these are merely my good-willed intentions, mind you--will serve to chronicle the life of a person exploring life while trying to maintain some semblance of sanity. It's going to be a difficult road, Blog, please help me to stay sane, to actually express things in writing, and never, ever judge me because I eat ice cream for dinner.

Playlist

I recently made the decision to start working out. I have made this decision many times. Here's hoping this one sticks!

I decided I was in need of an amazing playlist, something to keep me motivated. It has been aptly titled "Motivate", of course. I like to imagine Jillian Michaels yelling at me.

Although I have yet to hit the gym, I decided to take the playlist for a spin while riding my stationary bike.

It worked.

And although I was exhausted and my boy howdy was kinda sore, I felt good overall.

What is it about music that can make or break a workout? Mine is full of powerful women screaming. Horns are involved, of course, as are fast-paced rhythms. It ranges from Country (Dixie Chicks) to punk cabaret (Dresden Dolls) to ska (Dance Hall Crashers) and of course, I threw in a little Guns n' Roses for good measure.

Here's hoping I have found the right playlist recipe to keep me going.

Snow

Our house looks beautiful covered in snow.



The neighborhood has been transformed!




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Rememberall

(No, this is not a post about a certain beloved wizard. It is about books and remembering and remembering books.)

I have read many books in my life. Some were assigned, and some were for leisure. I have always been a bookworm. Recently, I read a book called, How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read by Pierre Bayard. In this book, Bayard describes various levels of reading which may result in a person having read a book and not actually remembering anything about said book.

This got me thinking. Could I have an intellectual discussion about any of the books I have read? I can't even remember who wrote The Scarlet Letter so a discussion on that one is out. Was Pride and Prejudice the one about the sisters and the weddings? Yeah? That's all I got. I have read these books. Really, I have.

How is that I can't remember something I spent so much time with? How will I ever successfully read classic novels and actually remember them? Can I be a good English major when I can't even remember the basic plot of The Great Gatsby? Or does everyone forget these classics and just pretend to have read and enjoy them?

Is it worse to have read and forgotten these books than to have never read them at all?

Mortal Syntax

As an English major I am expected to speak correctly at all times, write correctly at all times, and to know all things grammar-related. (I am also expected to have read every book known to man, but that is another topic). I am the worst grammarian primarily because it interests me. I read into everything and confuse myself. I enjoy trying to learn, but the end, I am dumber than when first started. The search for someone or something that can guide me down the rocky path that is understanding the English language is important. Thankfully, I stumbled upon this book.

Mortal Syntax by June Casagrande, (author of Grammar Snobs are Great Big Meanies) has been my recent pre-sleep reading. The book is simple and clear and funny. She describes why certain things are wrong, but more importantly, when it's okay to break the rules. I have actually learned a few things. Also, a few things have been clarified for me (subjunctive tense).

I suggest this book for anyone interested in learning a little about grammar or for anyone who needs a refresher course. The book is also a great tool with which to arm yourself. Inevitably, some jerk will decide to confront you about your imperfect grammar. He will have no idea you are ready to clobber him with wit and knowledge. This book will prepare you for just such a battle.

Amazing Horse

This is a test

I just wanted to see how amazing my phone can be. It turns out, it's pretty effing awesome.