« April 2005 | Main | June 2005 »

May 26, 2005

lacrosse skirts

A phone call from an old friend tonight.

Yes, I'm aware that's a fragment.

Anyway. We talked for a while. She always reminds me (indirectly) that I used to be more gentle, more patient, more mindful than I am now. I've kind of devolved. In my "old" age, I've become harsh, quick to judge, and self-important. In fact, my interest in goodness (and being good) in general has waned. I'm not sure if parenthood has made me hard, or if being in school for so long has sharpened my edges. My bright idealism has left me.

I am a cynical bitch. I tell my kids, "Nothing's fair, ever," whereas I once would sit Hannah down to explain karma. When Hannah was little, she never heard me raise my voice. Now, she and the boys hear me screech on a daily basis.

I'm probably overstating the case. But the point is I'd like to get back to something that is less concerned about superfluity and more interested in things like calm, lovingkindness.

Why on earth do women's lacrosse teams wear skirts? How ridiculous.

The problem is that in calm acceptance there isn't any place for the question. If I were practicing something more mindful, I wouldn't ask about the skirts. I'd notice them, and notice my reaction, and then come up with something like "How pleasant it is that those women can choose to wear whatever they want." Or something wussy like that.

Yeah. Being calm is kind of wussy. There's something vulnerable in being placid. I found myself listening to Talk of the Nation today, where they were talking about the military and that this war on terror will have us actively engaged in some kind of defense (offense) for damn near ever. And I was thinking, "Yeah, so what? It's all we know. It's what we do. To change the rules now would be just as ruinous."

And then I'm arguing. Ahimsa. Non-violence. Remember? Don't you remember who you were? What you believed in? But wait: there's Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction, who is also the goddess of rebirth and renewal. Violence is necessary. Violence is natural. Look, I'm arguing MORE.

Have I squelched the non-body, non-brain (here, I even avoid using the word) part of me because the academy doesn't really welcome acute discussions of ontology and morality? Or does it?

What has killed my spirit?

Posted by mryonker at 11:07 PM | Comments (5)

May 22, 2005

all's well that ends

>sigh<

I'm glad GS camping only happens once a year. For our troop it does, anyway. Other troops camp more often; me, I can only handle it in small, spread-out doses.

The foibles: a girl who, for all the excitement, never made it to the toilet in time (it seemed); several snits about rooming arrangements; scary-campfire-story-backfire (or success--everyone was so scared they wouldn't go to bed); a bad case of diarrhea Saturday night (not me, luckily), and rained-out s'mores.

The successes: bead-making, day-hiking, ice-cream-making, delicious-hobo-chicken-eating, pier-walking, beach-combing, rope-jumping, soccer-playing, hot-dog-roasting, cart-wheel-turning.

Everyone left happy (except the diarrhea sufferer, who left early). There was the requisite ONE DIRTY SOCK that no one claimed during pack-up. I learned last year that if I take it home, launder it, and bring it to the next meeting that it will still not look familiar to anyone, so this year I promptly trashed it.

I write now, working on about 4 hours of sleep total. We got home and unpacked, showered, and put our pajamas on (yes, it's 3 pm...I am NOT going anywhere else this weekend!!), and settled down in front of the TV to watch poker (on nbc SPORTS??) and the Magic Bullet infomercial.

I feel a sore throat creeping up on my sleep-deprived self, and I'm sniffly. But strangely fulfilled.

I've got a year to rest up for the next one. :) I'll post pics later.

Posted by mryonker at 02:02 PM | Comments (3)

May 20, 2005

anchors aweigh!

Well, not really. You realize that until last year I said (and saw in my head) "Anchors Away!"

Now that we have dabbled in sailing, I know what I'm really saying, and how to spell it. It still doesn't make any sense, though. The anchor is not away, and it is not aweigh (as in overboard), if you're leaving. (I should say "Yank them anchors in!")

But we *are* leaving this afternoon, to a fair state park for a scout camping weekend. Yesssireee. Eleven 2nd grade girls. None of whom will want to eat "hobo dinner" (chicken and vegies in foil on the grill--seasoned, of course). None of whom will care about the nature-hike-scavenger-hunt-I-spy that I've so laboriously planned. All of whom will complain about bugs, and cold, or wet, or hot, or whatever. All of whom will eat ONLY the hershey bars and leave none for real s'mores.

Well, I anticipate the worst so that it can be a great surprise when everyone is delighted and content. I've got plenty of back-up plans for food, and activities, and the like. I'll have pictures and a full report on Sunday.

Wish me luck! And do an anti-rain dance, if you've got one.

Posted by mryonker at 01:54 PM | Comments (1)

May 18, 2005

the definition of fun

trading shoes for an evening

chinese food in the mall

standing in long lines for little sips of mostly good wine

watching the donuts fry and glaze and drinking coffee at Krispy Kreme

having a friend who shares it all with you

Posted by mryonker at 01:01 PM | Comments (1)

May 16, 2005

a little good news to temper the last downer

I had a paper accepted for a panel at SAMLA (South Atlantic Modern Language Assoc) in Atlanta this November.

The title of the panel is _Maternity and Mothering: Rhetoric and Representation in Popular Culture._ My paper is "The Mom Blog: Rhetorical Strategies of Self-Representation."

Yeah. I should probably start writing it. :)

I've got a friend in Athens. Maybe she'll come and visit.

Posted by mryonker at 10:32 PM | Comments (4)

paying dearly

A particularly odious part of continuing education is the cost. Now, some people are simply infintely wiser than others, or they had parents* who educated them on the horrific black hole that is "credit" and did not allow them to borrow money for college, and those people escape the hell that is the student loan. Or loans, if you live the hell that is my life.

I used to lay (lie? yeah, I've been in school, studying WRITING for 9 years...gah) awake at night, heart racing and forehead sweating. How will I, in god's good name, ever repay what I have so foolishly borrowed? Why didn't somebody tackle me and wrest the shovel from my hands to save me from digging my own sad, early grave?

Now I have come to peace with the debt. Well, sort of. It still plagues me, though I lose less sleep. Mostly because I found that if I DIE, the debt will be forgiven. But that peace is interrupted as, on a near-nightly basis, some (zitty, I'm sure) teen-ager at a noisy call center in San Diego or Clearwater or where ever calls me to ask me would I like to consolidate.

It sure sounds nice. They promise me lower rates, even lower rates if I pay on time, and the ease of one bill and one lender and one balance (that, when they tell me what it is, scares me all over again).

Brian is certain that they are all vultures, out to screw us for all we've got. It makes a little sense to me, though. I mean, it's like they're buying any large loan (mortgage, car loan) and giving us a smaller interest rate, but still making out like bandits because even a SMALL interest rate on an assload of money will get them a stellar return.

Twice now I've been talked into allowing different companies FedEx me their application, which looks frightening because I have to 1) see the balance in black and white and 2) sign a waiver that says my loans must come out of deferrment before they can consolidate them. I stall, and then they call me back again and again to see if I have questions and did I send the paperwork back yet and why haven't you sent the application back yet!!??

A consolidation application sits on my desk right now. I'm terrified of sending it, but terrified that if I don't do something, the unsubsidized portions will grow like furious demons, choking me as I attempt to purchase another house or as Hannah starts college.

All I want in life is to make enough to pay off my loans (and maybe hire a housekeeper). Then I'll be able to sleep at night (in a clean house).

*Actually, this is probably unfair. My original college plans, to attend the US Coast Guard Academy, were paid in full, half by my mom, and half by my dad. A whopping 2K. Which, when I un-enrolled, they refunded and I bought a car with so I could commute to a local school.

Posted by mryonker at 09:54 PM | Comments (3)

May 13, 2005

I was afraid of this

I posted about getting a sitter for Josh while Jack is in pre-school so I could get some *real* work done now that Brian is back full-time. A sitter that I'm paying dearly for (this is mostly my fault, as I insist on overpaying my sitters considerably).

And here I sit in the library parking lot, reading freaking blogs. And now posting. Instead of working. >sigh<

So, a quick note about sunshine, getting a little tan, and THEN having that overdue eyebrow wax. Don't do it, man. You'll look MORE ridiculous with a big white space between your eyebrows than you do with all that hair connecting them. And yes, this attests to 1) the enormous need I have for waxing and 2) that I neglect that need horribly.

But to the more official point of this post:

I'm finding, as I try to "grade" weblogs, that in order to grade something, you must first offer expectations about that something so that the producers of that something can be expected to fulfill those expectations. What I mean is (and this, for all us teachers out there, is a big no-duh but this is how my life always ends up: NO DUH, madeline) that this rubric that I'm trying to create in order to assess the blogs that the digital writing students occupied this past semester should have been written 16 weeks ago and provided to them as a guideline.

This is totally my bust. It occurred to me early on, and only in passing, that these blogs would be murder to assess. But I resisted trying to make the writers write them a certain way, or follow a particular model, or whatever, simply because part of the idea about blogs is that they are fairly writer-centered. You can do pretty much whatever you want with them, and the reader has much more responsibility to make sense of and use what the writer is putting out there than we traditionally require of readers. I'm not saying that the blog allows for sloppy, incoherent writing, but wait--yes, I am. And I'm saying that sloppy, incoherent writing can be generative and productive and useful for writers AND readers.

Not that what we've got in these student blogs is sloppy or incoherent. Most of them are actually quite well-composed, with few-ish typos and minor erros of that nature.

But how do you assess? Here's the problem. The problem is that the work done in and around blogs is not the entries themselves, but in the larger interaction between writers and readers that isn't explicit in posts or in comments. The success of blogs is in a much more holistic experience that exists as a result after sustained engagement, over time, with writing and reading and discussion.

The parts of a blog (entries, comments, etc) when taken together with the parts of other blogs with which that blog interacts, make up much more than what the material whole (many posts and many comments with many links) constitutes.

So here I am, with a spread sheet open, reading entries and making note of comments and checking things off and arbitrarily giving and taking points for things like "depth of discussion" and entry length. This sucks big time.

I can't dock for grammar, incomplete expression of ideas, too short or too long entries. I can only count posts, match them to the appropriate prompts, and note comments to see whether the requirement is fulfilled.

I'll still be finishing the rubric, but it won't really be applicable to this semester's project. And I'm not sure if I want to apply it to next semester's, either.

Posted by mryonker at 11:09 AM | Comments (5)

May 12, 2005

things afoot

Lots of stuff goin' on 'round here. The largest of which I am still not really going to talk about yet, simply because if nothing becomes of that project I want to pretend it never existed.

I suppose that's cryptic enough for now.

Smaller stuff:
Working to create a rubric for grading blogs. Eeeew. It is enormously difficult, but I will be done TOMORROW (I promise, George).

Readying for camping with the troop next weekend. We've got Uno, Pictionary, a book full of ghost stories for the campfire, bug repellent, a scavenger hunt, and there's always a good game of steal the bacon if I run out of activities.

Rewriting the contracts for the staff at Jack's pre-school. Yeah. I know. That's what happens when they say, "We'd love for you to chair the board," and you get all flattered and say "Sure!"

Finishing the final proposal for the last course I will take, *ever*.

Posted by mryonker at 12:20 AM | Comments (6)

May 08, 2005

the roll...

...is up, amidst discussion that blogrolls should go down (and should stay up).

I have put this one together through blogrolling.com, so that I may easily update and NOT STAGNATE, as this bird person accuses blogrolls of doing.

However, blogrolling.com=difficulty (for me, anyway) getting the 'roll to look decent, so right now it's a horrible clump of unordered links.

More messing tomorrow. I am awake tonight to see System of a Down on SNL. Which sucks, but I dig SoaD.

Posted by mryonker at 12:19 AM | Comments (2)

May 07, 2005

a snapshot

Dunkin Donuts, a busy spring Saturday morning. The boys and I, killing time whilst Hannah is pas de chat-ing and tendue-ing her little heart out, stand patiently-ish in line amongst a gaggle of customers, most of whom are less patiently waiting for the latte machine to get up and running.

I am simply in need of ONE pink sprinkle, ONE plain cake, and ONE coffee regular. And really the only NEED exists for the coffee. They only way Jack can talk me into a Dunkin run is because I can get a caffeine fix.

So, we stand. Jack browses the juice cooler and vies for a gross-looking strawberry milk. Josh attempts to take down the large standing cardboard likeness of the Coolatta. I yawn, my eyes watering, my body exhausted even though it's only 10:30 am. I try to talk Jack into an apple or orange juice instead of the vile, thick-looking pepto crap. He demurs in his sweet way, and I give in. A customer behind me gasps quietly, and I look to her, figuring she's overheard the latte machine is down. She's staring behind the counter, her tall teen-aged son grinning and chuckling and following her gaze. I face front in time to witness a small blonde head with small hands and slender fingers reaching steadily towards the basket of powdered munchkins.

Shit. That's my kid stealing a donut!!

I tear around the counter (who left the gate open, anyway, so that small children could slip through!!??) grabbing for Joshua. But I am too late, and he's already taken a bite from the munchkin, looking pleased as a pig in shit with himself for being so clever. I can imagine him thinking, "Those amateurs, all out their WAITING for these incompetent underpaid disgruntled coffee jerks to get them their donuts--when all you have to do is SERVE YOURSELF."

I apologize to the young girl working the register. "I'll pay for it, sorry."

By the time we get to the front of the line, however, I wonder how she'll charge me for ONE munchkin. I'm mentally dividing 50 into 500 and, because I'm nervous and embarrassed, am having no luck coming up with a figure. She screws up our order, which is easy and doesn't involve a latte, and I decide that I won't remind her I owe her for the munchkin.

Posted by mryonker at 09:13 PM | Comments (1)

May 06, 2005

alone

Sorry to everybody that I stood up last night. Turns out, the science fair did a little sneaking up on us, and I found myself yesterday afternoon up to my elbows in clay volcanoes and those three-sectioned project displays. Actually, Hannah's project (Can you tell the flavor of Kool-Aid without seeing the color?) had already been executed; she simply had to do some work with her numbers. Ha Ha.

Her participants were a little more savvy than we hypothesized.

But the chaos was brought on by Charlotte, my niece, who when the science fair sign-up paperwork originally came home, had declined participation. Yet the excitement of Hannah's highly methodical and scientific cavorting was contagious, so at the last minute had me talked into letting her submit a project as well.

My default project? Good old clay volcano, baking soda and vinegar. Nope, I don't have any red food coloring, but I do have some left over Kool-Aid.

Yeah. So add an afternoon dance class into running to pick up pictures, clay, new markers, and SOMETHING FOR DINNER (gah, I have to feed them TOO??), I look up at the clock and it's already 8 PM. Oops. So much for making the end-of-semester shindig. Eff. Good mom, bad friend.

And this afternoon Brian waved to me from his truck as he drove off in the direction of West Virginia, where construction begins on new cabins on new land. He will return Sunday, but I am on my own to negotiate three dance classes, a first communion party for a friend, a Brownie training run, several meals, a trashed house, a research proposal, and who knows what else ALONE. I am already lonely and hoping the weekend flies by. Conan O'Brien will keep me company for a bit, in a bit. I hope he rows across the stage in his invisible canoe.

Posted by mryonker at 11:33 PM | Comments (0)

May 05, 2005

ebb

I do believe I'm on the verge of a significant life-change. My grappling with this has been the reason for my silence here lately.

Just finished a fairly large project for an undergrad group at school, and I'm glad to have it over. And while I cussed and moaned to have to do it, I am grateful for the opportunity/compulsion to use InDesign. It is a good, hard program that I should use more often so I can be fluent.

However, because of that project, I've neglected all the other crap I should be doing right now to finish out the semester. Since classes have been "officially" over, Brian has returned to the shop full time, and I find myself at home with the boys who pretty much don't let me sit for a minute. I've already recruited a friend to take the J-baby while the J-kid is in school (MWF mornings) so I can read/write uninterrupted. He went on Wednesday, and it was a little rough, as he is not much into anyone except family, but I think he'll adjust OK.

A cool thing on Wednesday morning: I had some last minute changes to that project before the press deadline, so instead of coming all the way back home after dropping the boys at sitter/school, I simply drove to the local public library (much closer=less gas!!), parked outside in the parking lot, and had a great wireless signal!! The library wasn't even OPEN. I know, I'm a little goofy, but it just seemed SO GREAT. So much for going to the library to work without the distraction of email/internet. :)

Also: I shelled out 1500 clams yesterday so we all could fly to Iowa for the 4th of July and my family reunion. Normally I use travelocity, but every well-priced ticket wound up, after I clicked through to the "book this flight" page, at least $100 more than it had been originally quoted. "The fare for this flight has been changed," is the message I'd get. Well, F*$%. If the damn price has changed, why does it still say $250 after the initial search??!!

I scooted over to expedia, and found the price I was looking for. When you're paying to fly 6 bodies, you need to get the cheeeepest tix you can! And yes, my brother WILL pay me back.

We've never flown anywhere as a family; we're pretty much a road trip gang. But when you've got seven people and an 18 hour drive, gah. I just couldn't face it: the fights. The messes. The screaming.

I am still a little worried about the J-baby being a screaming monster on the plane. I fully intend to be prepared to sedate him if I have to. Anyone have any experience flying with large babies/small toddlers?

Posted by mryonker at 12:41 PM | Comments (7)