Monthly Archive for March, 2006

ale, eel, isle

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on March 30, 2006
in Academia and Travel
. 8 Comments

I am heading out of town for a few days on an all-expenses-paid luxury vacation to a glamorous-but-remote tropical location.  I know, it’s shocking.  The days are so few, and the location so remote, that I will be spending almost as much time in airplanes and airports as I will at my destination.  ["All-expenses-paid," by the way, should be interpreted as "some-expenses-hopefully- reimbursed-by-my- department-that-hates- me-so-I'm- not-crossing-my-fingers,"  or something along those lines.  "Glamorous," "luxury," and "tropical" are all likewise not intended to be literal.]

I’d love to be sleeping right now, or even packing, but I unfortunately have to stay up and finish editing this paper that has to come with me on said vacation. 

The house is dead quiet, except for the horrible ticking of my alarm clock, which, yes, I can hear out here in the living room, and my sentences have passed "winding" and gone straight for "incoherent."  The only good part is that I’ve somehow decided to make the paper about ale.  Or eels.  One of the two, anyway.

I will check in again next week when I’m back in Zembla, at which point I may or may not have Some News.

friday photo feature: special saturday edition

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on March 25, 2006
in Academia and Books
. 10 Comments

Spring Break is officially here, and, while I have not finished grading entirely, I think it is safe to delegate the rest of the academic work to the cat. Here she is contemplating the works of Martin Heidegger:
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The Cat explains how language always brings itself to miao: What?
Basic Writings? What am I, some kind of stooge who’s too dumb to
read the entire Being and Time? And what is this “language brings itself
to ‘miao’” nonsense? I don’t talk like that, you insufferable twit.

all work and no wine make alfina something something

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on March 13, 2006
in Academia and Paedagogy
. 9 Comments

Don’t worry, y’all; I have not gone and died from lemon overdose.  Not that you were worried, but let’s just say the thought of lemon overdose crossed my mind on Saturday.  Several times. 

Naturally, in this busy week, I have thought of about seven posts I wanted to write, but haven’t. Some of them I’ll get to in the next couple of days, some will inevitably be abandoned.  I am working hard against a few different deadlines, trying to grade papers, finish the novel I assigned for this week, and write up a decent and difficult final exam.  All that and I am  finishing the current dissertation chapter.  When that business is done, I do not need to tell you how the people will march. 

Anyway, I am palpitating my way through yet another night of over-caffeinated paper grading with an egg timer on my desk to help me limit the amount of time I spend with each paper.  Of course I am not at liberty to divulge the specifics of that time limit, for it is something which, I feel, would truly appall you.  The first rule of half-assed college teaching: do not reveal specifically how half-assed it really is.  The second rule?  Wine.

UPDATE! Have you heard of the great novelist Paul Bowels? He’s pretty popular among my students, narrowly edging out Graham Green, but still trailing Heminway.

UPDATE! AGAIN! I hate grading so much.

utterly unbalanced in every way

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on March 7, 2006
in Uncategorized
. 4 Comments

Am I allowed to call in sick with a case of existential angst?  How about morose misanthropia?  Spiritual bankruptcy?  Fatal boneheadedness? Would any of those work?  Because I have far too much to do today and no mental energy with which to do it all: grading, reading, writing, fixing my hair, watching episodes of Lost on iTunes, looking at pictures of puppies on the internet, going back into the bathroom over and over again to see if the entire room really does still smell of that new facial soap I bought. 

I am a busy girl.  And my bathroom smells of "wild lettuce."  I don’t just mean that there is a subtle aroma in there, brought on by the soap’s delicate presence.  Rather, the soap, hidden away and be-curtained in the shower, has transmitted its healthy, organic essence to all points in the bathroom. What the hell, people? One bar of soap should not have such a totalizing effect on the air in a room.  Granted, it is a shoebox-sized bathroom into which I have a hard time fitting even just my nose, but, still.  Lettuce.  My face does have a healthy, low-calorie, high-fiber glow about it though, so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.  Now I need some gorgonzola crumbles and balsamic vinaigrette. (Do you think that would clog the pores?)

And now a non sequitur about the dangers of exercise (see how I am looking out for you?):

I feel I must inform you about the kind of yoga involving that big, goofy, fun-looking, inflatable "balance ball":  as the name implies, balance is a necessary component.  I do not have any balance. None whatsoever. I am surprised I survived my gymnastics classes as a kid, frankly. This activity seemed deceptively safe.  It’s basically just a huge beach ball–a beach ball that relaxes and invigorates!  What could go wrong?  Well, as it turns out, draping one’s spine precariously across the ball and then wobbling back and forth for several minutes does neither relax nor invigorate the body.  Rather, it hurts the body.  It makes the body want to lie flat on the floor for half an hour until the body has regained its composure and dried its tears.  It then makes the body want to take a nap. 

Sadly, folks, there is no time for napping today.  I have to go sniff the bathroom again, and then I have a date with some internet puppies.

don’t sass me, chuckleheads!

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on March 5, 2006
in Uncategorized
. 15 Comments

While I have, for now near-forgotten reasons, entitled this site something to do with grammar, I have refrained from worrying too much about the grammar (or spelling, or punctuation, or style) of anyone who comments here.  I take no joy in telling people to use capital letters occasionally, or not to insert tildes between their sentences.  Rather, I try improve my own writing and enjoy your (mostly lovely and hilarious) comments. And yet, a trend of asshattery seems to have begun. Certain of you seem to be scouring my posts for "errors" with the enthusiasm of a college sophomore who has just passed his first journalism class. With a B-.  (Which is to say, both cocky and wrong: an unpleasant combination.)

Frankly, I don’t have a problem defending my diction and syntax when I think I’m right, which I usually do.  Referring y’all to yet another word-usage note, however, bores me to tears.  No one wants to read that.  Faced with the possibility of having to issue a smackdown in the comments section,  I find I would rather blind myself with a dull grapefruit spoon.  So, with that in mind, before any pedestrian pantywaist out there decides to "correct" my writing again, please check first to make sure I have actually erred.  Hint: not all long sentences are run-on sentences. And I like sentence fragments.  A lot.  Which is fine. And we have been beginning sentences with "and" and "but" since the tenth century, so, you know, good luck with that one.

Once you’ve given it some thought, checked dictionary.com, The O.E.D., The Elements of Style, or Garner’s Modern American Usage (hey, whatever’s your bag), and you still really think your particular brand of pedantry would be a valuable contribution, go for it.  I’m sure I will be impressed by both your superior knowledge and your brazen nonchalance in face of the possibility that you might seem a tiresome dullard–let’s face it; no one cares about grammar.  On the other hand, though, I ain’t wanna write bad.