« September 2004 | Main | November 2004 »
October 31, 2004
dooce, carpet in the kitchen, Halloween
A quick entry before I leave to run 15 miles. Yes. I think I may die, but I have to make up for those days I missed this week. UPDATE: We only made it 13 miles. My feet felt like they were going to fall off. Actually, it felt as though my feet HAD fallen off and I was running on bloody stumps.
First, I'd like to give a shout out to dooce, a site that will have its place on my blogroll once I do the next update. This chick is a riot, a mom, and talks of constipation with reckless abandon (after my own heart, there).
For those of you who read this blog from the beginning (which was probably none of you), you'll know that its original title was "Carpet in the Kitchen." Indeed, my house *had* carpet in the kitchen, and I felt as though my life followed that idea quite literally: highly impractical, a bad idea all around, completely impossible to clean or maintain, and a HUGE pain the ass in general.
Well, for all of my bitching here (and elsewhere) about the worthless men that share this house with me (husband, brother), they both redeemed themselves fabulously yesterday as they proceeded to yank out that damned carpet.
It was no small task, as the crap has been in there for 50 years. It was this nasty carpet-and-pad-in-one shit that, since it had been in a F*@%ing kitchen, was exposed to various liquids over the years (I can attest to the liquids from this past year only: water, milk, apple cider, Juicy Juice, pickled beet juice, cat piss, bleach, vinegar, etc). Such liquids of course do not DRY or EVAPORATE, but instead soak into the carpet padding junk, making the padding ahere all the more stubbornly to the underfloor.
So, Brian, peeling the crap up, Tucker using a flat shovel (sharpened with a grinder) to scrape the extra padding up off the underfloor, and some kids watching with interest:
Posted by mryonker at 07:53 AM | Comments (2)
October 27, 2004
don't buy the candy too far in advance
A note of warning: this post reveals my manic self. If you want to continue to read this blog under the illusion that it is written by an even-keeled, normal (!even!), person, this post will shatter and sully that ethos.
I wanted this list to be a post of regrets and mistakes I've made this week. I've neglected the blog. I haven't run in three days. I still haven't started up a blog for my research. The new (to us) couch Brian brought back from his mom's is still in the truck because I haven't had a chance to clean and rearrange the living room. Blah blah blah. It seemed like I had a pretty good running total, until I realized that such trivialities are trumped by the very biggest mistake I made this week:
I bought our Halloween candy on Sunday. The candy that we're supposed to pass out when kids come to our house. I bought it on Sunday.
Well, no, it's not all gone. Not yet. The reason it's not all gone is that I bought (literally) 10 bags of candy. I bought 10 bags because we live in a small village in a mostly rural county, and the stretch of our road in the village tends to get an enormous amount of trick-or-treatin' traffic since the country people bring in their kids by the truckbedful, drop 'em off at one end of our street and pick 'em up down at the other. My neighbor warned us that they get upwards of 200 visitors each year.
So I figured I'd better be prepared. And I figured that, for once, I wouldn't wait until the last minute to get prepared. In fact, I thought I was being responsible! Organized, even. I thought I was saving myself the later stress of hurrying out Halloween afternoon to scavenge the last meager bags of Smarties and Dum Dums.
So, on Sunday last, a whole week in advance, I bought $16 worth of Snickers, 3 Musketeers, M & Ms, Reese's Sticks, and Crunch Bars (no crap candy from my house! no eggs or TP or pumpkin smashing here!).
Now, I sit sadly amidst a myriad shiny wrappers. It's not my kids, or my brother, or even my husband who has built this mountain of refuse. It is I. It is me. Whatever. I am so fuzzed out on chocolate right now (and have been since Sunday) that I can't even remember which (I? Me?) is correct.
I tried moving it to the top of the refrigerator. I took the grocery bag and SLUNG it up there. 5 hours later, I'm dragging a stool in from the dining room (a la Jackson), climbing and teetering and grunting to retrieve it. I'm darting furtively to escape recognition; I'm hiding (snack sized! so conveniently hidden!) the small treasures in my SLEEVES, surreptitiously unwrapping and trying NOT TO CHEW so visibly that the many little people with whom I share my life don't notice and ask WHAT ARE YOU EATING?? Because if I happen to ever move my mouth in a near-chewing manner, I have 4 of them on me, prying my lips apart, asking for a bite. And if they know I've dipped in to the stash, it's fair game.
Damn. I need a Crunch bar.
Posted by mryonker at 10:14 PM | Comments (5)
October 24, 2004
antje duvekot
I had the goodluck yesterday of getting to travel to Ithaca with my friend Tyra. We've been planning a trip to go to the used bookstores for about a year now, but I've never been able to get away. In fact, the entire trip was otherwordly. I've never been without kids for that long in *years*.
While there, we were able to catch Antje Duvekot at a cafe on the Commons called Juna's.
Her work is slightly reminiscent of Joni Mitchell; her voice reminiscent of Tori Amos; her lyricism reminscent of the Murmurs. Mostly, though, she inspired me to pick up my guitar and record the handful of songs I've been thinking about.
Of course, I won't. It would require, you know, an hour or so of quiet time in my house, which, uh, never exists.
Tyra and Antje:
Posted by mryonker at 11:15 AM | Comments (2)
October 22, 2004
i could be related to Kerry
Now that I've been working a little with MoveableType at school, and learning a bit about building templates and layout stuff, I decided to look around a little to see what TypePad would let me do different.
Apparently, not much, especially since I only pay the 4.95 a month. I could get some cool mixed media templates, but only if I upgrade. And as we all know, that measley 4.95 has, in the past, put my credit card over the limit. Lord knows I'd be in trouble paying 14.95.
I figured I might as well stick up a pic of me, since I'm getting some hits from people I don't know and people I haven't seen in a while. Plus, Clancy can have a pic of herself, why can't I? (Don't say it!!)
[[And all that crap about her trying *not* to lose weight!!? How I wish I had that problem.]]
Looks kinda like John Kerry? Sunken eyes, long face. Oh well. And it's pre-hair-chop; I'll update it in a few days.
UPDATE: And now it seems that the newly built site has screwed up the way the archives are displayed. WTF ever. Any ideas, anyone???
Posted by mryonker at 09:57 PM | Comments (1)
October 21, 2004
the heat is on, and a goodbye
Brian fired up the furnace today while I was at (warm) school. But I don't feel the victory like I should. I feel like we could have waited.
In other news, it seems I've become a victim of that old adage: "be careful what you wish for..." All my crabbing about the 7 vehicles cluttering up the yard and driveway has NOT fallen on deaf ears. Brian started selling some of them today. Well, he sold MY car today. WTF?? So, say goodbye to the Integra: 
.
Really, I'm glad. Ever since we've moved to Central New York, it kills me to drive this car during the winter. In fact, the first winter I parked it. Last winter I drove it a little, but only if I had to. The sound of the sand and salt pinging the undercarriage made me cringe. The rust up here is terrible, really. And we can't really afford the luxury of parking a "summer" car anymore. And a last reason in Brian's defense: This is not a family car. Sure, it's got 5 seatbelts, but the middle seat in the back is about 4 inches wide and when you factor in the car seat, there's just no room for the kids to be comfortable.
So. Good-bye sweet Acura. I knew ye well.
And one gripe: Tonight the show _Without a Trace_ featured a story about a woman who, while on medication, fell asleep nursing her baby and killed her by rolling over her. I absolutely hate it when unconventional parenting/lifestyles are indicted in this manner; it reinforces general misunderstanding.
And while I grant that the woman's drugged state makes the story more accurate (sleep-sharing deaths normally occur as a result of drug or alcohol use), I still cringe. So let me take a moment to offer testimony: I have three healthy children, two of whom spent two years sleep-sharing and one who currently sleeps between his mommy and daddy. They are all well-adjusted, secure, happy, confident children. Here's partial proof: 
Posted by mryonker at 11:09 PM | Comments (4)
October 19, 2004
the deadening of comp, and its new life as a blog
Diane Greco (Oct 19) echoes a snippet of conversation that a dear friend and I had a few days ago. He was lamenting the way the PhD work, and the coursework specifically, had really turned his writing into drivel. I don't think my writing has changed much--but it has not improved much, either. I have a theory about the academic genre/voice, and how the inclination to appear/sound detached enough be analytical and make critical conclusions effectively strips a writer of human voice.
There are exceptions to this rule. I have a handful of professors whose academic work has personality. Although, and this is just occuring to me now, do I inject personality into their writing simply because I know them? Do I read their work hearing the cadence of their voice in my head, thereby creating the illusion of a voice?
At any rate, Greco posts on finishing an article about diet blogs (which, when I originally read the phrase "diet blogs," I had images of people, like me, who need to quit blogging so much, as in go on a blog diet--but I think its about people who use blogs to support/track diets):
Even after all that dull, dispiriting comp theory, I'm writing stronger, faster, better. I still get tired, and my ideas sometimes don't connect on the page, but ... well, it just feels better. Plus, by practicing what I preach, I feel more comfortable about, you know, preaching it.
This encourages me. I think that blogging helps me to do a couple of things that I haven't *ever* done before: 1) write daily 2) write about things *I* want to write about [as in, not assignments, or writing that is not externally prompted], and 3) use/create a genre that allows me to incorporate other authors' work AND wax personal/ philosophical.
Plus, when I sit down to blog, it isn't only writing. I spend a few hours a day (wow. but I do) reading all kinds of other blogs before/during my own posting.
I don't know that Greco was making her claims about the rejuvenation of her writing as an effect of her blogging; she doesn't make the connection explicit at all. She's feeling like she's getting her groove back as a writer AFTER comp and rhet and teaching have all bled her dry. It might have been a coincidence that the article in which she found new life as a writer was about blogs.
My new life as a writer is because of this crazy thing.
And that prof asked AGAIN today (actually, it was more of a statement): "You ARE doing your diss on blogs...(?)"
I assigned my students the task of setting up a blog with blogger to serve as their site journals (I have a service learning class). They moaned and groaned, but I got up to the teacher machine and in less than 1 minute I had a blog set up, right in front of them. They quit groaning.
I also set up that prof's class with a blog the other day.
Lots of students blogging. There's got to be some questions I can ask and try to answer...
Posted by mryonker at 10:39 PM | Comments (3)
welcome, Tyra
Just a quick, but necessary, post:
a dear friend at school, Tyra, is now on my blogroll. She and I had the opportunity today to discuss the workings of blogs (hers over at live journal. She has a cool aggregator over there that I envy (typepad people: do we have something comparable? I can't find such a thing).
At any rate, she asked if I had her blogrolled, and I had to admit with shame I did not.
No shame, no more. She now has her rightful place in my list. And I'll warn those of you who wander over there: her prose is thick and wonderful like molasses. Nuanced, interesting, definitely worth it, but thick. :)
Posted by mryonker at 08:16 PM | Comments (2)
October 18, 2004
wrongest wrongness
If there's one thing I do well, it's admitting when I'm wrong.
(what a phonetically strange word: wrong)
Hannah WAS sick yesterday. We all slept in the living last night on various sofas and couches because it was too cold upstairs (50) to sleep. Brian and I are having a "let's see who can stand the cold longer/who will wuss out and turn the heat on first" contest. (He doesn't stand a chance.) It's still 60 and sometimes a little higher downstairs, so we decided to camp. (I promise when the baby's lips are blue we'll turn it on!!)
So, we're all sleeping in the living room, and Hannah wakes me up with a migraine and a roaring fever. I felt rotten! She really was getting sick. I am a horrible, unfeeling, bitch of a mom.
Posted by mryonker at 12:42 PM | Comments (2)
October 17, 2004
Ann Coulter must be a man.
Don't get me wrong. She's a beautiful woman. I bet she was a beautiful man at one point. Actually, this is probably more than a little offensive to transgenders, and I don't mean for my joke to hurt anyone. But I found this gem of a quote here (it might be here once she updates things; it's the October 13 column), and I can't believe s/he's really saying it:
Imagine President John Kerry at the Berlin Wall. "Mr. Gorbachev ... I challenge you to get to an emotional place where you can imagine a different kind of non-wall reality, that fully respects the 'wallness' of your current reality, yet takes us on a spiritual journey in which ..."Republicans are more simple-minded, but for some things you want to be a little less contemplative, a little less nuanced.
Hm. My goal is to always be aware, nuanced, seeing as many sides and angles as possible. I think humans would be much better off if words came
Just think, if we all looked out for another person, if we, EACH PERSON, was more concerned with someone else's well-being, we would ALL be treated fairly and with kindess.
Simple-mindedness frightens me. Thoroughly.
Plus, her jab about the "non-wall reality" and spirituality is more than kind of ironic, if you consider the article in today's NYT by Ron Suskind (this is via Daily Kos) in which Bush's strange affinity for getting divine direction is creating quite a rift within the GOP... further, an aide told Suskind that
"guys like me [Suskind] were ''in what we call the reality-based community,'' which he defined as people who ''believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality.'' I nodded and murmured something about enlightenment principles and empiricism. He cut me off. ''That's not the way the world really works anymore,'' he continued. ''We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality -- judiciously, as you will -- we'll act again, creating other new realities...
So, for Kerry to ask Gorbachev to imagine a non-wall reality really is the same as what this administration does to the media and the American public on a daily basis. The only difference is that Coulter admits Kerry would ask for the reality shift. This administration simply shifts it without telling anyone.
Posted by mryonker at 11:27 PM | Comments (0)
double duty post
Some politics, some personal.
We'll go with the personal first.
Today, Hannah had an audition to dance (like, as a snowflake or something) with the Moscow ballet's Nutcracker for the Syr performance.
She's been dancing for over 3 years. In front of people. And I'm pretty sure that if she could have endured the audition, they would've had a costume to fit her.
But halfway through, she stepped out of line, crying about her eyes burning and the routine being too hard and fast (it wasn't).
I was ANGRY. I know she's only 8. But I feel like she's such a wimp. ( I know, how mean of a mom can I really be?) But she was so excited about dancing in a *real* show (like, not a cheesy recital), and then it was too "hard." Things are often too hard for her, like folding the laundry, riding her bike with me as I run (I run s-l-o-w), doing the dishes, picking up. She complains of pain constantly (my finger! my leg! my eyelash!).
So often, I hear myself: "Will you please SUCK IT UP??"
My lovely H, who we all know quit his job recently, was very sympathetic and defensive of her. I made some pointed, quite rude, comments in the truck on the way home about people persevering and doing things that are hard and uncomfortable in order to grow; about things that are worth doing are difficult. That life is, in general, not very comfortable at all.
B asks (oh, didn't he see it coming?) what *I* do that is uncomfortable?
Let me see...oh, if I could just think of ONE THING!!
I carried three babies inside my body. Squeezed them out of my body.
I nursed three babies--for well over a year with the first two and going on a year with this one (he shows no signs of letting up). Let no one mislead you: nursing hurts at first, and is forever uncomfortable: public feedings, teeth, in-laws asking "isn't he too old??" etc etc. I could think of more.
I bend over everyday to pick the shit up off the floor that every other person in the house walks by repeatedly: laundry, toys, trash(!), books, bags, laundry, laundry, laundry.
I wipe pee off the toilet. I scrub a bathroom that's probably as gross as a mall restroom; the same number (nearly) are in and out of it daily.
I wake up with the baby when he's sick/crying/has baby insomnia (and it's one of the three every night). I then get up, no matter how much sleep I've had, and get kids off to school, get myself ready, and go to school myself.
I run. This is highly uncomfortable. I know I choose to do it, but that's the damn point, isn't it? Choosing to experience the discomfort! So you can appreciate the benefits later!!
The important thing here is: I am not bitching to bitch. I do these things because I ultimately know they will make me happy, or make someone else happy. I know it sucks AS I do them, but I know the rewards are worth it! I don't know how to teach this to my daughter; I can't think of how I learned it.
I feel bad(ly) now, and I've made up with Hannah. She really is a good little ballerina. I told her now that she knows what to expect, next year she will make it through the entire audition--that the audition was important in and of itself, not the "getting in." The experience of dancing with strange people, learning and dancing unknown sequences, etc.
OK in other personal news: a favorite prof of mine asked whether I was doing my diss on blogs. Hm. It hadn't occured to me. The wheels are spinning.
And a political link: via angry bear a
clip from CNN's Crossfire that makes me wish I had cable. Not so I could watch CNN, but so I could watch the Jon Stewart Show on Comedy Central.
Watch it 'til the end. Jon calls Tucker a dick. It's a shame Jon's so funny, because he really is onto something very important about "serious" media.
Posted by mryonker at 09:02 PM | Comments (2)
October 15, 2004
retards, au pairs, discretionary income, hiring out, etc
Reading around a little today, I happened upon a blog conference that took place last week over at
11D centered on work and family. I haven't had the time to read through the entire conference, posts and comments, but this post caught me: The Dads: Retarded or Freeloading?.
Growing up with a Down's sister, the word retard always draws me, like a car wreck draws gawkers. I don't get particularly offended, but I'm always interested in the way people use it.
This post begins as a prompt concerning the division of labor in the home. Of course the back and forth of "I do it all; he does nothing" and "I do a lot; she does little" ensued in the comments. Interesting.
I forgot about the retard thing as I was struck by the frequency I was outclassed during that "discussion." People talked about having au pairs to help with their kids, using "discrectionary income" to hire out the lawn work, couples sharing some of the work but having cleaning people do things like the floors and bathrooms.
Its funny; I wanted to post something about the unconventional commune that I live in where my brother and his daughter live with my family, where the three adults in the house share the responsibility of caring for the kids (of course, I'd rant about me doing the biggest share). I wanted to talk about the boy down the street who has now eaten dinner with us 4 nights in a row, whose mother works at Wal-Mart and has asked if we could baby sit him; I told her yes and don't intend to take a penny of her money for it.
But I couldn't post. My comments wouldn't fit.
I think that capitalism makes us bad parents. It makes us forget what's really important, makes us torn between spending time on our kids and earning money to spend on our kids.
Posted by mryonker at 08:14 PM | Comments (6)
nooo!!
Cooking to Hook Up: The Bachelor's Date-Night Cookbook
I have a few beefs with this. The cooking-to-hook-up thing is questionable; it's like, the new "what's your sign" come on ("which girl are you?") with the further make-no-bones connotation of "Let's hook up (ie let's hop in bed)--uh, after I thrill and woo you with some recipe out of a book that *will* make you want me."
Plus, I answered the question about my favorite date with the 4-hour hike response, and this thing says my favorite date is a lecture!
At any rate, I tried to be honest AND be granola girl, but oh well. Apparently I was too honest.
I am Academic Girl
Click on the picture below to read more:
|
That's Academic MOM to you.
Posted by mryonker at 01:27 PM | Comments (2)
more on the debate
Bitch. Ph.D (on Oct 13) offers *my* sentiment concerning Bush's third-debate mini-rant (ending with "nevermind") about Kerry's use of network sources for information.
Also, it occurred to me last night that Bush was, in effect, putting down the very medium (specifically, people whose work is to produce news for the medium) through which his words were broadcast.
It's like: don't listen to the TV news. I'm ON the TV news. Don't listen to me. Or something like that.
I esp like Bitch's "hardef#&%ing har." That made the whole post for me.
Posted by mryonker at 08:07 AM | Comments (0)
October 14, 2004
an interesting tension
Geeky Mom offers and interesting and fun-to-read commentary on the tension of being both mom and geek (or academic, but I'll grant either). Her tension appears to be in the changing from one to the other, and my tension is all about my inability to separate the two. I think about this a lot; it has to do with the public and the private, I think. There is something about a refusal to really believe that a barrier exists between public and private--the the barrier is simply an artificial self-preservation or something. People are more real when I know the nature of their lives past the surface that is made available to me through public contexts (like work).
The work I'm doing with the home as a public space (for moms, mostly) attests to the conflation of public/private, and the constructedness of these ideas. They don't really exist, or they don't have to exist; some
peo-ple want/need to create boundaries--others (I) cannot.
Posted by mryonker at 10:02 PM | Comments (3)
some notes on the debate
I made it home last night just in time to catch the debate. Normally I don't bother watching them, simply because I'm hyperaware of how staged and inauthentic these debates are, and I end up feeling physical pain when I think about how people actually give credence to what is actually said. They seem entirely insubstantive.
The debates, instead, are a showcase of delivery. Who will stutter or misspeak? Who will sweat? Who will speak for an hour, resisting the urge to wipe at the sticky spit congealing at the corner of his mouth because it might make him look nervous (or provide grist for the SNL impressionist Will Ferrell)? Who will actually answer the questions?
So if we're talking about delivery: Bush smiled too much--almost giddily at times--while Kerry spoke. Bush cannot hold his mouth in an unpretentious manner. Kerry is able to look serious. Bush projects a kind of nervous defensiveness.
They wore the same tie. The same flag pin. In the same place on their lapels.
One thing did strike me about the content: Kerry put me off at the beginning when he talked about killing terrorists. But I think Shieffer started off with a hard question about whether we'll every be "safe and secure" again, and Kerry had to come off tough. I hold no illusions about ever really being safe, though, and I suspect that Kerry, like a cowboy whose feet are getting shot at, danced that dance because he had to.
In other news: my dear mother called me yesterday to announce with glee that she registered to vote. It's been so long that she couldn't remember who she voted for last; she thinks it might have been Goldwater. She's seen some of the debates, which have fueled her to act, but what really set her off was a campaign working in Webster County, WV (where she lives) whose focus is the three Gs: God, Guns, and Gays. If you for God, want to keep your guns, and think being gay is wrong or something, you should vote for BUSH. Ick. I lived in Webster County for a year (that's where our strawbale is) and while I'm normally one to try to explode stereotyping, I have never met more oppressed women and uneducated fear of change than I did in Webster. And a campaign like the three Gs, even though complex and not parallel grammatically, is probably working pretty well down there.
Well, there will be one Kerry supporter: mom. :)
One final question (I should pose this to Collin , who was an avid debator in his earlier years): Bush's move during the debate to begin a statement that questioned Kerry's use of major network reporting as evidence for a claim and then to say "nevermind" struck me as highly irregular as far as forensic delivery goes. The mean sound in his voice and the flippant "nevermind" sticks in my brain now...
I guess that really wasn't a question.
Posted by mryonker at 12:29 PM | Comments (6)
October 13, 2004
A new nanny
This blog is turning less into a record of motherhood and school and more into a repository for my personal hand-wringing.
This post will hand-wring, but it will also discuss why I can now start working earnestly.
My lovely H has decided to quit his job. We have been through this ever since we've been married (which is going on 9 years now). The history of it probably is partially my fault: when we got married, he quit college to work full time so I could finish my degree, at which point I would work full time and he would return to school.
Well, heh heh, I'm not finished with my degree yet.
The neighbors, Deb and Chuck, have successfully moved into phase two of our plan: Deb is working full time, Chuck began school this fall. And they, in all their infinite worldly wisdom, have managed to do it without borrowing money.
So, ever since he quit school, he has moved from job to job, sometimes keeping them for a year or so, sometimes quiting after 3 or 4 months. He can always find a job, and find a good-paying job (he's a genuis, pretty much; a talented mechanic, carpenter, electrician, plumber, tug boat engineer, etc).
It didn't bother me at first. He's been for entire years without working as well, although he was building us a strawbale cabin to live in at the time (and we were living in a tent, so I was encouraging him to build the damn thing!).
But he's decided he wants to stay home for good. And let me tell you: we cannot live on the 1100 bucks a month that I make. Even with the damn student loans (that will hopefully arrive soon), we will HURT.
On the upside, if he is home, I will get to write more, spend more time outside of the house getting research done, and work on the Oswego County Women's Cooperative, which doesn't exist yet but WILL exist by early next year, I promise.
Dr. Crazy lists criteria for the ideal partner. Two from her list: ambition and commitment *do* exist in Brian. Somewhere. He is committed to sleeping in and holds ambitions concerning the number of used trucks that can be parked in one driveway.
BUT on the bright side: I'll have that live-in nanny I've always wanted.
BUT on the not-so-bright side: it's mid-October in Central New York. It's 55 upstairs this morning. And we have heating fuel, but I'm feeling awfully stingy about turning on the heat right about now. The fuel costs $1.81 a gallon. Last year we averaged 200 gallons a month in the winter. Luckily I suck so bad at math that I cannot even calculate what we paid.
Posted by mryonker at 09:18 AM | Comments (1)
October 12, 2004
thanks! and more lists
To everyone who has offered kind words, I'm grateful.
Our trip to VA this weekend was a fabulous break, though there were a few unsavory moments. (Forgive my inclination toward lists. I'm liking them.)
1. I was happy to see that Brian had a fully stocked snack bag for our drive down. It included Three Musketeers, Twix, Kit Kat, and peanut M & Ms. I was disappointed, however, that he unthinkingly placed them in the back seat on the floor, where things got a little hot about halfway into the trip (just when I was ready for that Twix). M & Ms don't melt in the hand, nor do they melt while sitting directly atop a hot Montero transmission, so I settled.
2. Chik-Fil-A chicken nuggets, when partially digested by a four-year old, take on the appearance and odor of chicken-peanut salad. Brian's theory on the peanutty essence is that Chik-Fil-A fries their stuff in peanut oil. I'm inclined to believe that.
3. My sister-in-laws: one spent Saturday evening complaining about how quickly her one-year-old daughter grew out of the $50 shoes she just bought; the other spent the entire evening talking about her new boyfriend's marriage-ability factor (she is a two-time divorcee with two small children, who expects us to buy Christmas presents for every Tom, Dick, Joe, Cameron, John, Eric, and Harry she brings around).
4. The lovely husband, who has great insight about the constitution of vomit and foresight concerning road snacks, managed to BUY ANOTHER TRUCK. Luckily, it's not parked in my driveway yet. But I'm sure it will be, soon enough.
5. I got back and my TypePad account was suspended because my Visa card had declined. Instead of figuring out why (and I can guess: over limit), I rushed to change my billing info so I could post!!
OK. I'm watching Frontline on PBS right now. I'm bulldozed by what I'm seeing. Is it that PBS is soooo framing Kerry as a thoughtful, experienced, compassionate, intelligent person? That PBS is framing Bush as a greedy, opportunistic puppet? Pictures of Kerry with reading glasses, brow furrowed; video of him (from as far back as his Yale years) doing and saying smart things. Pictures of Bush lounging in that Rangers stadium, the testimony that Bush said, after 9-11, that he wanted to "kick some ass."
Posted by mryonker at 10:42 PM | Comments (1)
October 06, 2004
Things I should be doing instead of blogging:
1. laundry
2. packing for our trip to VA this weekend
3. going through the recovered files from the salvage we ran yesterday (of nearly 300 deleted files, over half were mine)
4. prepping for the Brownie meeting tonight
5. reading something about method, blogging, online teaching, or action research
But I just wanted to sit down to offer a quick update. This week, I about decided that I couldn’t continue to be a student, a teacher, an intern, a mom, etc. I had one of those days where, literally, EVERYTHING was sucking so bad that I just wanted to walk away. The crap with all my missing files; my baby being the neediest, cryingest, clingingest baby I’ve ever met; my 25-year old brother leaving the toilet seat up and the rim of the bowl covered in piss (repeatedly—could you please just wake up enough to aim, or better yet, sit your sleeping ass down to pee!!??); my Hannah being me—second grade and already having anxiety attacks (“Mom, she pushed *me* out of line and then yelled that I was budging! Then she told! My stomach was hurting and my neck was pinching so I couldn’t breathe, Mom. I had to go to the nurse.”); my husband spending every last penny we have on trucks and plows and trucks and parking them in the driveway so there is no where for the kids to ride their bikes; the bills that come that I can’t pay; my mom calling me (“The Justy broke down again. How’m I going to get to church?”) every day; my niece Charlotte biting Jack (she’s FIVE!! she bit hard enough to bruise him!); Jack’s fungus on his head weeping and oozing and scabbing (now I have to take him to a dermatologist! And his hair is getting so long and shaggy and growing into his ears…but I can’t take him to Susan and ask her to touch his head!). God HELP me.
Somehow, I made it through that day. That was Monday (or Tuesday, now I don’t even remember).
This missing files thing is still bothering me, really. Because this is what happened: Sunday, I connected to the school server, where the my course website and blog live, and where I send a lot of stuff that I’m afraid of losing (so the server is a back-up for me—haha). So I connect, and the folder that has my name is COMPLETELY EMPTY. Like, nothing. Not even the stuff that George, the tech dude, puts into all folders as kind of a default. Blank.
Huh? What the f%#*k happened to it all? George, as nice as he can, says, “Well, what’d you do?” Uh, nothing? Like, I’m fairly anal about logging out of machines if I happen to use one in the department, which I don’t usually do anyway because I just take my iBook.
I did use the teacher machine in the basement cluster last Thursday, because I wanted to use the Smartboard. I did connect to the server, I think, to retrieve something I needed for class. I may not have logged out, though I swear I did.
But even if I didn’t, someone would have had to go to the teacher machine, see my folder open (it wasn’t!!) and literally, and with malice aplenty, selected ALL the stuff in the folder and drug it to the trash, and clicked (again with a huge hateful heart) OK I DO WANT TO TRASH THIS PERSON’S HARD WORK.
So, I feel a little better now. I cut all my hair off today. And I got some of my work back.
Posted by mryonker at 09:25 PM | Comments (2)
October 04, 2004
crash
somehow, my server account at school, where I store all of my pics [hence the broken images] and the web log I was running for the 307 I'm teaching this semester, research from last semester, syllabi from the last three semesters, all my stuff, basically, has been wiped clean.
can you say aw hell!!!
things will be back to normal soon. unless I commit hari kari first--which, I have to say, looks pretty good right now.
Posted by mryonker at 10:39 AM | Comments (0)