I Can't Hear You Now

People tell me it's time for a new phone plan, but I admit there's something I enjoy about the song and dance of staying within my minutes each month. Currently, I am screening all calls. If I answer, it means that either a) you are worth the $.45 a minute that I have to pay now that I've gone over (but please get right to the point) or b) you have Verizon and it's free to talk to you. If you leave a voicemail, I will check it after nine p.m. or I might use someone else's phone to hear it. Just depends. In a desperate moment, I may even write bdoc in Montana to see if she will call my voicemail and relay the message to me via email. She is usually willing, good sport. To others, this game is altogether annoying. To me, it's an interesting challenge. Call me what you will, but if you want me to hear it, please do it over the weekend. Unlimited minutes.

I Can Never Come Home Again

My return from the holiday travels has been difficult so far.

First of all, my family is not here. That's a bummer. A real bummer. If you knew my family, you'd agree that it's a bummer. B.U.M.M.E.R. Bummer. I heart them. I really do.

Secondly, I have grown lazy. Five pounds gained over the holiday weekend and now, I'm a sloth. Just want to sleep and eat. Having had lots of practice this past week, I'm quite good at it. Incidentally, I also had a lot of practice at shuffleboard and am NOT good at that. WTF?

Finally, the to do list is large and difficult to tackle due to aforementioned lethargy. I'll decide to get my ass in gear eventually, but not before acquiring significant guilt over having wasted the morning.

Hmm. On so many levels, things haven't really changed.

Ramblings of an Impatient Sister

From bdoc:

I know all you Slapdash Doc fans may not be satiated with this entry. But at least you'll have something. I got nothin. I've been told by my friend Fast Eddy, "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." I tried to tell him that sounds like the Bushstoppo's propaganda about being a terrorist if you're against the war. Or something like that.

I digress.

I'm writing because jdoc is too busy. She's too busy shopping, sleeping in late, playing Tetris, eating, fighting with Cdoc, teasing Ellie, eating, teasing Cdoc, and shopping; not necessarily in that order. So, you see, I'm being part of the solution and I'm writing an entry for her.

I've given up cookies, cake, ice cream, candy. "Why?" you ask. Well, because I've been issued a sugar challenge. It will cost me $50 if I eat any of the above before friend Shalon does so. She might tell you that it was my idea. But I didn't think she'd take me up on it. And I certainly DID NOT include ice cream in that challenge. Anyone that knows me, knows that I would NOT have been so crazy as to cut ice cream out of my diet. I mean - it's made of beans, VANILLA BEANS. Good for me. And how else will I get my calcium?

Again, I digress.

So, this past weekend, while at Chico Hot Springs in Montana with my family, all bets went down the tubes. I ate sugar. Cookies. Candy. Cake. Orange Flambe (jdoc has a picture to prove that they light it on fire and it burns for a good 2 minutes). Mint Mud Pie. Homemade. Caramel. It was delicious ... but full of sugar that I haven't eaten in 3 months!!!

I have a hangover. From sugar. I am back on the wagon and hoping Shalon never reads this post. If she does, I'll claim the Christmas Exemption on line 24 of the contract.

And today, I'm thankful for the Holiday Weekend - for the love of family and for reminding me why I should never eat sugar again.

White Whale

The tile work in the bathroom took a week. I showered at the gym. Julie stayed with her brother.

Over a week and a grand later, it looks great.

The problem, I discovered this morning, is that it leaks worse than it did before. Before the tile work, there was a mist of water gently gliding down. Now, there's a typhoon of water pounding on the basement floor. Julie and I could shower at the same time. One of us upstairs. One down.

I am leaving for Christmas today and I'm really gonna try to not think about this glitch until I return. There's nothing I can do until next week. Nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. It's working already.

Holiday Spirit

We have a group of kids who like to stay after school with their teachers. Every. Single. Day.

This is nice. In theory.

Most of the time, though, it means I'm not getting any work done. And couldn't they have used class time better so they wouldn't have to stay after? I think yes.

So today, I didn't even feel bad when I told four of them to GET OUT and GET OUT NOW. Exactly those words.

Tomorrow, I'm locking the door immediately. They'll pound and pound. But I won't answer.

Done. Over. Caput. Finished.

And I passed.

All of that hard work came down to 55 minutes of conversation. It wasn't a breeze, though. One of the professors was altogether skeptical about the work of a scholar cited over and over in my paper. I didn't realize it until then, but I wanted this to be kind of hard. I wanted to actually defend something. His tough questions made me do just that, and I liked that he read my paper with the same critical eye that he reads other academics. And I handled it. Even enjoyed it.

Someday, I'll go back to that kind of work. But now. I want to rest. Long and hard.

Credo

I live by the Socratic philosophy that I know that I do not know very much. For this reason, the prospect of defending my thesis tomorrow is downright terrifying. They'll expect me to know some shit and pleading the Socratic won't get me very far, to be sure. The only thing I can say I've learned for certain is a bit about myself. Perhaps that's what this whole process has really been about. Know thyself, the Oracle at Delphi once said. Why is that such an arduous task?

Back in the Saddle

The computer is back and, due to some good advice, I seem to have fixed the wireless problem as well. How's that for good luck?

Whatever it is, I hope it sticks around until Monday, because all I can think about is that darned defense. Coffee today with a good friend who has been through the process set my mind a rollin'. I appreciate that she asked some tough questions so I could check into reality and begin to mentally prepare myself. I've had winter break and time with family on my mind, and sadly, those topics will not be on the defense agenda. Instead, I have to brush up on evocation and critical response over the weekend.

But, that's okay. Sometimes, being an obsessor is a good thing, and until the defense of the BAP is over, I'm gonna plan on doing just that.

Paper No Mas

No. The laptop is not done yet, but I am stealing some time at the university library to write a quick post to share that THE BIG-ASS PAPER IS DONE.

Turned out to be not-so-big-ass after all. NSBAP. But the advisor approved it and on to the committee it went. Now, I just have to pass the defense and I'm on my way to freedom.

I had a taste of the freedom today and it involved balancing the checkbook, paying bills, sweeping and mopping the floors, and running errands.

And oh. What a lovely day it has been.

Bad News for the Blog (or How a Jump Drive Saved My Life)

My horoscope tells me that with Jupiter in my house of . . . um . . . something, I will have unprecedented good luck. But when the laptop died today, just as I was rounding the final bend of the Big-Ass Paper, that luck seemed as distant as Jupiter itself. Remaining calm, I remembered that I am meticulous about backing up the paper onto my jump drive. And what good luck! It was all there.

Sure, I have to take my f-ing laptop back to the computer place, pay loads of cash to get it fixed, wait weeks for it to return, and NOT blog in the meantime (unless stealing use of someone else's computer like I am now), but thank you Jupiter! The paper is still in tact and almost done.

So, I am afraid that even with all this extra, non-paper-writing time on my hands, I won't be able to keep you updated on the ins and outs of my life. Course, with the paper finished, what will I write about anyway?

So Close. . .

Some of you know that it is my goal to finish the Big-Ass Paper this weekend. I hesitate to write this into the blog for two reasons: 1) You may wonder why I am posting an entry when I should be working on the paper. Rest-assured, this break is much needed and much earned. And 2) If I don't finish the paper this weekend, which is always a distinct possibility, you will be disappointmented in me. Rest-assured again, if it doesn't happen, I will carry enough disappointment for everyone.

In the end, since several of my previous posts already divulge that I am an obsessor and procrastinator, it doesn't really matter what I say here. And, if I do actually finish the BAP this weekend, the subsequent accolades will be worth the risk. I am sure.

All In a Day's Work

There is nothing, perhaps, more satisfying than hearing statements like these upon finishing a book with students:

"That was goooooood."

"Where can I find more books like this?'

"That's the end? It doesn't even tell us the whole truth."

That last one was my favorite because it was exactly the point. Almost as if I had planted it. Exactly. The. Point.

I demonstrated, too, how the final paragraph of the book, where it says -- "I want to know who I am. I want to know the road to panic that I took. I want to look at myself a thousand times to look for one true image."-- gives me goosebumps. I pulled up my sleeve and showed them the evidence.

Then, I gave thinking homework: "What would one true image of you look like? Just one and only one. What is the one . . . true . . . image of you?" I said it slowly for dramatic effect and then sent them on their way to contemplate truth and identity.

Typical 7th grade stuff.