Monthly Archive for September, 2006

BLACKLISTED! campus double door installment

[More Readers' Choice Installments will be coming out soon, never fear!  If you feel like it, why not send me some more suggestions?  OK?  OK.]

People who insist on entering through the left side of the door.  We have been over this before, haven’t we?  This ain’t England, you chowderheads. Use the right side of the door.  That is all.  Those insisting on left-side usage will, without further ado, be forevermore BLACKLISTED!

People who see you approaching the double door, step back, act like they’re letting you out, and then enter through the side you just used.  This is really a subset of the left-side users, isn’t it, because these people would necessarily use the left side, too. Why do they do this waiting routine?  There are two doors there, which (in case anyone was wondering) IS WHY WE CALL IT A FUCKING DOUBLE DOOR.  They can pass through at the same time you do, but they don’t.  They wait, all faux-graciously, their smug, self-congratulatory faces implying, "hey, buddy, that’s OK; I’ll let you out before I go through."  Do you know what it is, though?  It’s not politeness.  There’s no need to wait, because, AS WE HAVE ASCERTAINED, there are TWO DOORS there.  No, no, it’s not politeness.  It’s laziness.  They wait for you to open your side so they can sneak on in without exerting the precious energy to open the door themselves.  The fuckers shall henceforth be BLACKLISTED!

tomorrow. yes, tomorrow, now get over it.

School starts tomorrow, and I’ll be in the classroom first thing in the morning, wowing my 30 unsuspecting students with my intimidating brilliance and sparking wit.  Er, or something, anyway.

I know, I know, you’re all thinking "What?  School starts tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit late?!"  Well join the club. Frankly, I loathe this quarter system business. I would much prefer two fifteen-week semesters to the three ten-week quarters we get now, but the end-of-September start to the year and the mid-June finish actually do suit the Zemblan Summers much better than the East Coast schedule would.

Here’s the thing though.  All throughout the month of September, I have to field countless calls and emails from people on the East Coast all "Hey, Alfina, so, how is school going," and I am all "Ha HA, you hooplehead; I am not in school yet."  The same thing happens again in mid-May, when those same people think I am done for the year–and then, the joke is on me, because I still have a month to go. 

And it’s not that I think everyone should keep my academic calendar in their minds at all times, or anything, so I guess it’s no big deal when people forget that my university doesn’t start at the same time theirs does, or at the same time as the local public schools in their area, or whatever they are basing this assumption on.  But it’s another thing entirely that when they have to act so damned shocked about the whole thing, all "WHA?  HUH? NO SCHOOL FOR ANOTHER MONTH? WHA?" Because, people, hello, I HAVE BEEN AT THIS SCHOOL SINCE 2000.  This is the SEVENTH SEPTEMBER we have had this conversation.  You would think after seven, I repeat, SEVEN years, this would get a little easier.  Ahem.

So, anyway, I seem to have gotten off track. Where was I?  Oh yes, school is starting tomorrow.  One huge implication of that is that my regular paychecks will be a-rollin’ in with great fanfare.  You can expect me to do some kind of elaborate celebratory dance each and every time those (small, teeny, lovely, intoxicating) little deposits hit my checking account.  Those, combined with the light-but-steady trickle of temp paychecks, will put an end to the Horrifying Summer of my Discontent. Bills shall be paid! Fun shall be had! Maybe this heartburn will finally go away!

While we’re talking about money, which I hear polite people do not do (but who are we kidding here?), I’d like to say a big fat Thank You to the nice people who helped make a wretched time better by using my little "Donate" button.  You are all so kind to help out a cranky stranger like that, and I appreciate it so very much.  And another big Thank You to those of you who bought me beers, listened to me bitch, or were otherwise just your awesome selves.  Mwah!

While the financial stress is fading into the background, I expect this year to continue to be pretty gut-wrenching.  It is (fingers crossed) my last year here, which means I will have to finish my dissertation (when? WHEN I ASK YOU.) and go on the job market.  Ugh.  I can’t believe I actually typed that.  Let us never speak of it again.  The academic job market is a soul-sucking, cold-hearted bitch, and some of you already know what I am talking about.  Those of you who aren’t acquainted with said bitch…well, be glad, I guess.  I don’t know that I’ll be writing much about that aspect of life here.

Teaching, at least, can be guaranteed to go reasonably well–or at least to go wrong in predictable ways.  Most of the problems I encounter these days are ones for which I have already come up with an attack strategy.  Students don’t do their reading? They fail the reading quiz and get hot coffee dumped in their laps.  They don’t want to contribute to discussion?  I call on them and go all Socratic until they cry, then I take a picture of their crying ass and post it to their MySpace account, which I have hacked into.  Their cell phone rings in class?  That one’s simple: a punch in the neck. 

Teaching, you see, is easy.  I just don’t know if hiring committees will respond to such measures.  Do you think they’re even on MySpace?

things that are overrated

Chuck Palahniuk

Microbrews

The DaVinci Code

Post-Colonial Literary Criticism

MySpace

Political Correctness

Popcorn

Peep-Toe Pumps

Chinese Food

Radiohead

South Park

Modest Mouse

Ice Cream

Battlestar Galactica

Healthy Living

The Business World

Chocolate

The Frat Pack

Steinbeck, Dickens, Toni Morrison

Ham

and one more thing, america!

The word "phase" does not mean what you think it means. Try "faze" instead. Please.

i donated my nose to science and other news

Haven’t been around much lately–as it turns out, Comcast doesn’t like it all that much when you don’t pay them.  I called them today and lo! the internet is back in my house, and here I am a-blogging.  (I promise, I only paid them so I could talk to you!  You right there, with the face. See how much I love you? Yes, you!)

While on the phone, I was susceptible to their cross-selling wiles, which they effortlessly employed to talk me into some cheap deal on digital cable, which, barring a change of heart, will be installed in a week and a half.  I won’t have to pay for it for another month, though, so ha HA, world. (I should totally call and cancel that, shouldn’t I? Otherwise it will be far too tempting to start looking at larger TVs and those newfangled DVR thingies.)(Shut up, I have a 10-year-old, 13-inch TV set right now.  I got it in a trade with my brother–I gave him a 1987 Chevy Cavalier that leaked water through the dashboard and, in the words of a college friend of mine, "always smelled like old sex." I totally got the better deal there.)

(Wow, that was quite a digression.  You sure you want me teaching your youth to "write," Zembla?)

Anyway, among other things, I have been helping out the scientific community.  Don’t worry, not selling any organs or fluids (this time), but rather participating in scientific experiments for a friend of mine, who, I swear, so totally did not bribe me with beer.  I am merely a noble, science-supporting person.  I mean, what we need more of is, predictably, science. 

My linguist friend had me (mostly my nose) hooked up to a fancy machine, and I carefully pronounced nonsense words into a breathing mask.  Something about "beef neebs" and "boom tubes," maybe some "new boobs" or "glee feebs." I don’t really remember.  Many of these nonsense words sounded dirty, which was reward enough for me, I tell you, beer or no beer. Science, my nose is here for you!

In other news, school starts again at the end of the month, complete with four gabillion department activities and receptions and meetings, where I’ll be forced  gobble hors d’oeuvre and act interested while my colleagues pontificate on whatever deadly dull subject they’re wasting the state’s money to study. All aboard Train Academia: Eco-Friendly Because We’re Powered By Our Own Sense of Self-Satisfaction!