As seen at Seeking Solace's place.
Explain what ended your last relationship?
Um. . . Mr. Trillwing was my first boyfriend. He's more embarrassed by this fact than I am, but I don't usually advertise it. I was a late bloomer. :)
When was the last time you shaved?
Last night.
What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.?
Wishing I could nap. I had already been to the grocery store and washed the car.
What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
Being a slave to Bloglines.
Are you any good at math?
I do not know this "math" you speak of.
Your prom night, what do you remember about it?
I didn't go to prom. Just not my thing. (See response to first question.) I seem to remember hanging out with a couple of friends and doing dorky crafts or something. But that may be a completely inaccurate account of the evening.
Do you have any famous ancestors?
Locally famous, yes. Anyone you'd know, nope.
Have you had to take a loan out for school?
Who hasn't? I've got a LOT of student loan debt.
Do you know the words to the song on your MySpace profile?
MyWhat? ;)
Last thing received in the mail?
The Chronicle of Higher Education
How many different beverages have you had today?
Five. Orange juice, apple cider, water, Pepsi, soy milk. That's an unusually high number--as well as an insane number of calories to be taking in through liquids. Oops.
Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine?
Yes. And I am officially declaring this an asinine question.
Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
Can't remember because I don't care. It also depends on how you define "concert."
Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
Sometimes.
What's the most painful dental procedure you've had?
Ohhh. . . I don't know. Eight years of braces? Or the two oral surgeries, each of which removed four molars? Probably the braces, since I had anesthetic for the surgeries.
But seriously, Mr. Trillwing beats us all in this category.
What is out your back door?
I don't have a back door because I live in an apartment. What kind of classist question is that? ;)
Any plans for Friday night?
I'll be visiting my parents.
Do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
Salt-encrusted tresses? Not so much.
Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns?
Yes. I prefer the caramelized variety.
Have you ever been to a planetarium?
Yes, as a child.
Do you re-use towels after you shower?.
Yes. A little trick I've learned from all those California droughts.
Some things you are excited about?
Moving on to the next stage of my professional life, whatever it may be.
What is your favorite flavor of JELL-O?
I don't eat Jell-O. I'm vegetarian.
Describe your keychain(s)?
Nothing but a couple of rings with too many keys. I used to have a pewter Tyrannosaurus Sue, but it fell off.
Where do you keep your change?
My wallet.
When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people?
When was the last time I spoke in front of a group of people that wasn't large? I teach at a research university, for goodness' sake. In many ways, some of our departments are like accredited diploma mills. (Oops. Did I just say that aloud?)
The biggest group of people in front of whom I've spoken was several thousand, a capacity crowd at my high school graduation at a municipal football stadium. And no, for those of you keeping track, I wasn't a valedictorian. (See "math" question above.)
What kind of winter coat do you own?
The one I actually wear? It's a black wool peacoat. In storage are my heavy-duty Midwestern parkas.
What was the weather like on your graduation day?
Gorgeous every time.
Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
Open, unless I'm napping.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Advice
If you are procrastinating by cleaning your keyboard, do not--I repeat, NOT--by any means snap off the enter/return key on your iBook.
You will regret this accident, as even once you find detailed directions on how to reattach the key, you will spend at least an hour conducting sweaty surgery with tweezers under a blazingly hot halogen desk lamp. You also will probably end up bending the key's plastic or metal parts, and therefore there will always be a chance that your return key will once again pop off unexpectedly.
Heed my warning, oh readers. Do not fuck with the return key!
You will regret this accident, as even once you find detailed directions on how to reattach the key, you will spend at least an hour conducting sweaty surgery with tweezers under a blazingly hot halogen desk lamp. You also will probably end up bending the key's plastic or metal parts, and therefore there will always be a chance that your return key will once again pop off unexpectedly.
Heed my warning, oh readers. Do not fuck with the return key!
Saturday, October 28, 2006
School violence: what's your solution?
(cross-posted at BlogHer)
Using textbooks as shields. Teachers packing heat. Making students defend their own classrooms.
These are just a few of the ideas being floated in the wake of the murder of Amish girls at a Pennsylvania schoolhouse.
As a mother, teacher, and longtime student, I'm a major stakeholder in these proposals.
I think they're all asinine.
Lest you think I'm merely some suburban-educated, middle-class white girl who doesn't understand the reality of violence in our schools, allow me to flash some street cred. Snoop Dogg graduated from my high school--you can now imagine the urban environment, perhaps? The school closed down during the Los Angeles riots because buildings in the neighborhood were burning. On Wednesday nights, I'd hear gunshots during orchestra practice. My senior year, I was responsible for the obituary page in the yearbook. Students at my school--members of the Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps (Army JROTC)--were tried for murder. (And ours wasn't the only school in the district with such trials: mostly students murdering other youth, but also a teacher murdering a student.) There were bullet holes in bungalow classroom windows. Razor wire topped the fences, and there was a heavy, rolling iron gate that clanged shut at the beginning of each school day under an arch bearing the school's motto--"Home of scholars and champions." The year after I left, they instituted locker and backpack checks, brought in search dogs, and by now I'm sure they have metal detectors.
We were told this security was not so much to keep us securely inside the school as to keep the bad elements securely out.
Living in the United States, whether you're a student in a school with a gang problem or a television viewer watching the war in Iraq, it becomes obvious pretty quickly that violence begets violence. Yet many Americans want to up the violence ante in our schools. When some right-wing white men from the rural or suburban U.S. declare that what my urban high school needs is more guns, I clench my jaw and try to breathe deeply, reminding myself that I am indeed a pacifist, and that putting my fist through the TV or computer screen won't help anyone.
Let's step back for a moment and consider the facts:
Who commits the school shootings we see in the news? White boys and white men.
Who are the ones proposing more guns in the schools? White men. Who are proposing that we teach our students to run toward gun-wielding attackers? White men.
Who are the victims? In disproportionate numbers, girls.
Who might actually be able to see this problem most clearly? And who's out of touch here? I think you know my answers.
We need a longer-term solution than the quick fixes--such as kevlar-coated textbooks--proposed by pundits and crazies. We need to teach our boys and young men to respect girls, women, and others who are unlike them because of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion, class, or disability.
Part of the problem, as women and feminist bloggers have pointed out in writing about violence against girls, is that we're looking at the means and ends of school violence and not its causes. By focusing on gun crimes, we're looking too narrowly at school violence.
Cathy Davidson writes that by focusing on threats to our children by violent or predatory adults, we're doing our students a disservice:
I agree. We need to be less concerned with teaching our children how to fend off attackers and more focused on improving the quality of education in many of our schools. The immediate violence of a school shooting is indeed tragic, but the damage caused by a failure to graduate from high school can reverberate throughout a community and a nation.
This improved education must include peace and justice studies so that students can understand challenges in their lives and make wise decisions about how to address them. We need fewer JROTC cadets who are skilled at taking orders and primed for military service and more students who can think critically and thoughtfully for themselves.
Can we all be pacifists? No, we're too far gone as a nation to pursue that course. Would a large dose of pacifism help? Certainly. Would it hurt? Unlikely.
What's your solution to the various kinds of school violence?
(Photo by Cindy Seigle, used under a Creative Commons license)
Using textbooks as shields. Teachers packing heat. Making students defend their own classrooms.
These are just a few of the ideas being floated in the wake of the murder of Amish girls at a Pennsylvania schoolhouse.
As a mother, teacher, and longtime student, I'm a major stakeholder in these proposals.
I think they're all asinine.
Lest you think I'm merely some suburban-educated, middle-class white girl who doesn't understand the reality of violence in our schools, allow me to flash some street cred. Snoop Dogg graduated from my high school--you can now imagine the urban environment, perhaps? The school closed down during the Los Angeles riots because buildings in the neighborhood were burning. On Wednesday nights, I'd hear gunshots during orchestra practice. My senior year, I was responsible for the obituary page in the yearbook. Students at my school--members of the Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps (Army JROTC)--were tried for murder. (And ours wasn't the only school in the district with such trials: mostly students murdering other youth, but also a teacher murdering a student.) There were bullet holes in bungalow classroom windows. Razor wire topped the fences, and there was a heavy, rolling iron gate that clanged shut at the beginning of each school day under an arch bearing the school's motto--"Home of scholars and champions." The year after I left, they instituted locker and backpack checks, brought in search dogs, and by now I'm sure they have metal detectors.
We were told this security was not so much to keep us securely inside the school as to keep the bad elements securely out.
Living in the United States, whether you're a student in a school with a gang problem or a television viewer watching the war in Iraq, it becomes obvious pretty quickly that violence begets violence. Yet many Americans want to up the violence ante in our schools. When some right-wing white men from the rural or suburban U.S. declare that what my urban high school needs is more guns, I clench my jaw and try to breathe deeply, reminding myself that I am indeed a pacifist, and that putting my fist through the TV or computer screen won't help anyone.
Let's step back for a moment and consider the facts:
Who commits the school shootings we see in the news? White boys and white men.
Who are the ones proposing more guns in the schools? White men. Who are proposing that we teach our students to run toward gun-wielding attackers? White men.
Who are the victims? In disproportionate numbers, girls.
Who might actually be able to see this problem most clearly? And who's out of touch here? I think you know my answers.
We need a longer-term solution than the quick fixes--such as kevlar-coated textbooks--proposed by pundits and crazies. We need to teach our boys and young men to respect girls, women, and others who are unlike them because of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion, class, or disability.
Part of the problem, as women and feminist bloggers have pointed out in writing about violence against girls, is that we're looking at the means and ends of school violence and not its causes. By focusing on gun crimes, we're looking too narrowly at school violence.
Cathy Davidson writes that by focusing on threats to our children by violent or predatory adults, we're doing our students a disservice:
Well, we are leaving about 30% of our children behind (http://www2.edtrust.org). That is the current high school drop out rate, making the U.S. #17 in the world. We know level of education correlates with future employment, poverty, crime, violence, incarceration (http://www.prisonuniversityproject.org). If we are concerned about internet predators because of the irreparable harm they do our children, then let’s look at the far more vast harm that comes to children right now in America because of disaffection from our schools.
I agree. We need to be less concerned with teaching our children how to fend off attackers and more focused on improving the quality of education in many of our schools. The immediate violence of a school shooting is indeed tragic, but the damage caused by a failure to graduate from high school can reverberate throughout a community and a nation.
This improved education must include peace and justice studies so that students can understand challenges in their lives and make wise decisions about how to address them. We need fewer JROTC cadets who are skilled at taking orders and primed for military service and more students who can think critically and thoughtfully for themselves.
Can we all be pacifists? No, we're too far gone as a nation to pursue that course. Would a large dose of pacifism help? Certainly. Would it hurt? Unlikely.
What's your solution to the various kinds of school violence?
(Photo by Cindy Seigle, used under a Creative Commons license)
Friday, October 27, 2006
Life coaching?
Anyone here ever used a life coach? If so, did you think it was worth the cost? I can't quite afford a coach at this moment, but I'm thinking one might be beneficial in the near future.
Here's my deal: I know life coaches like to differentiate themselves from therapists. But my health plan does have a very affordable short-term (I think 7 visits) therapy option, and I'm wondering if working with a therapist skilled in career issues would be hugely different from consulting with a typical life coach.
If you've considered career issues with both a therapist and a life coach, I'm especially eager to hear from you. And if you're a fan of life coaches and can make a recommendation, please e-mail me at trillwing -at- gmail -dot- com or leave the coach's name and website in the comments.
Many thanks!
Here's my deal: I know life coaches like to differentiate themselves from therapists. But my health plan does have a very affordable short-term (I think 7 visits) therapy option, and I'm wondering if working with a therapist skilled in career issues would be hugely different from consulting with a typical life coach.
If you've considered career issues with both a therapist and a life coach, I'm especially eager to hear from you. And if you're a fan of life coaches and can make a recommendation, please e-mail me at trillwing -at- gmail -dot- com or leave the coach's name and website in the comments.
Many thanks!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Reports of his toddlerhood greatly exaggerated
A little over a week ago, I reported that Lucas had taken his first two steps.
We're still there, folks. Tonight we met the two-step threshold again, but three steps in a row are apparently just too difficult for him. He and I are flying down to see my parents in a week, and they're expecting him to be walking by then. It would indeed be kind of nice if he was walking at least part of the time because they have wood floors through most of the house now, and last time he came back with bruised knees from crawling.
So yes, I still have a big baby. He does think it's hilarious when I trick him into walking a step or two on his own, but then he falls into the floor, giggling in a big baby heap.
Have I mentioned he's fastidious as all hell? He'll take things from my desk drawers and either (a) replace them on his own after playing with them or (b) drop them on the floor while sitting on my lap, then climb down from my lap and hand them up to me, piece by piece, by category--pens first, then pencils, erasers, rulers, etc. It's the damndest thing.
And tonight he tore up a piece of wheat bread into tiny pieces and placed all of them in the cupholder on his highchair tray. There wasn't even the tiniest crumb on the rest of the tray.
Is this child really related to me? Clearly he has some of the uber-organized (if not always sparkling clean) Mr. Trillwing in him.
The babysitter comes tomorrow and I'm trying to figure out what to do with my time: work on my journal article or this book proposal. I'm guessing it will be the latter since the proposal is due in a few days. I also promised an editor at the American Studies Association conference that I'd send her a book proposal for my dissertation.
Look at me, pretending to be a writer and all. Good thing I quit my job several years ago to go back to school and get that shiny Ph.D., eh? Now, what was that job, again? Oh yes, I was a writer.
P.S. I'm sad. Twitter isn't letting me log in.
We're still there, folks. Tonight we met the two-step threshold again, but three steps in a row are apparently just too difficult for him. He and I are flying down to see my parents in a week, and they're expecting him to be walking by then. It would indeed be kind of nice if he was walking at least part of the time because they have wood floors through most of the house now, and last time he came back with bruised knees from crawling.
So yes, I still have a big baby. He does think it's hilarious when I trick him into walking a step or two on his own, but then he falls into the floor, giggling in a big baby heap.
Have I mentioned he's fastidious as all hell? He'll take things from my desk drawers and either (a) replace them on his own after playing with them or (b) drop them on the floor while sitting on my lap, then climb down from my lap and hand them up to me, piece by piece, by category--pens first, then pencils, erasers, rulers, etc. It's the damndest thing.
And tonight he tore up a piece of wheat bread into tiny pieces and placed all of them in the cupholder on his highchair tray. There wasn't even the tiniest crumb on the rest of the tray.
Is this child really related to me? Clearly he has some of the uber-organized (if not always sparkling clean) Mr. Trillwing in him.
The babysitter comes tomorrow and I'm trying to figure out what to do with my time: work on my journal article or this book proposal. I'm guessing it will be the latter since the proposal is due in a few days. I also promised an editor at the American Studies Association conference that I'd send her a book proposal for my dissertation.
Look at me, pretending to be a writer and all. Good thing I quit my job several years ago to go back to school and get that shiny Ph.D., eh? Now, what was that job, again? Oh yes, I was a writer.
P.S. I'm sad. Twitter isn't letting me log in.
Plugging Mr. Trillwing and friends
Mr. Trillwing has carved himself out a little corner of YouTube and is currently featuring his musician friends. Just FYI.
I'm sure he'll start posting video of himself and our family soon enough. Mr. T, he's into the digital media.
I'm sure he'll start posting video of himself and our family soon enough. Mr. T, he's into the digital media.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Because I don't already have enough of my life on the Web, I've joined Twitter. It's hard to explain exactly what it is, but I'm finding it's a simple way to keep myself honest and focused on work in the evenings. It's a quick method of reporting on what I'm doing instead of blogging ev-er-y-thing.
If you decide to join me, send an invitation to trillwing -at- gmail -dot- com. If I recognize you from our little bloggy community, I'll add you as a friend and we can be focused together.
FYI, I use my real name on Twitter, so that's what will be showing up in your friends list if you join. You'll recognize me from my avatar. :)
Procrastinators unite!
If you decide to join me, send an invitation to trillwing -at- gmail -dot- com. If I recognize you from our little bloggy community, I'll add you as a friend and we can be focused together.
FYI, I use my real name on Twitter, so that's what will be showing up in your friends list if you join. You'll recognize me from my avatar. :)
Procrastinators unite!
Dammit
I missed The Clutter Museum's anniversary on the 22nd. What shall I do to make up for that oversight?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)