Thursday, March 29, 2007

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Guilt

I made beef stew today in my crock pot. While everyone preaches the ease of crock pot cooking, a round of can-emptying and picking out the frozen onion-slices from a package of mixed frozen vegetables because I didn't have any real onions made me tired. I sat around all day internetting, listening to Laura Branigan sing "Self Control" live on youtube.

I did manage to head to the department and fax out a referral form to my podiatrist (long, unblogworthy story). Right after that I saw Patrick on the stairs and asked if we were having a pre-grading meeting for the next set of papers. We wouldn't be able to meet until Monday he said, but he then joked "you have other things to do besides grading papers?" I know he was fooling around, but since I haven't graded anything really since we received the papers last week, he hit my guilt nerve: what should I be doing other than working?

I, perhaps like many people, enjoy doing nothing. I'm not an ideal-type go-getter nor am I really the adventurous type. Sure, I like to disappear "accidentally" and go exploring, but only when the mood strikes me and it's usually when everyone else on the tour is going too slowly for me. And granted, when things need to get done (usually because shame is breathing down my neck), I get them (over)done. Still, I wonder if I lived a Beta life if I'd fall under the dull compulsion of the workplace and get things done -- copies, spreadsheets, phone calls -- something that makes it seem like I'm putting myself to good use. I may simply have been taught in my sleep to admire the product but dislike the work of the Alpha Pluses in the academe.



I also noticed that my condoms will expire in July.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Slower Morning

So I got up and read an Ulrich Beck piece on the meta-game of globalization. It's a game about a game these days, he says. There's nothing like German translated into English to make one's mind explode with weird combination terms that probably sound better as one word. And by "one's" I mean "my" and by "explode" I mean "ka-boom."

There's still a lot left before New York. I've got office hours tomorrow and then an Inter-Ivy Sociology Symposium organization meeting. I have some backlogged tasks to get to -- the residual effect of going balls out on my Brown Bag.

Nothing really to say about world events, I guess. I've never been interested in college basketball and never will be, unless my kids play. Tony Dungy doesn't think gay people should get married, so that's apparently news enough to make it to cnnsi.com. Hmm, what else? Adolfo Zaldivar ("El Colorin" or the Redhead), a centrist legislator in Chile says he feels left out.

Anyhoo, my roommate's friends are chatting outside about Jesus pulling his own heart from his chest. I think I might not be interested in seeing this film.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

A Personal Day

So I took a personal day today. Nothing much happened. I managed to sleep for ten hours, fit in some exercise, and then spent the rest of the day internetting in various ways. I took a short nap before Lost, then got sucked into watching the first 20 minutes of Sex and the City. Lest I begin to live vicariously through the men that manage to convince those independent 30-year old women to go on dates with them, I decided instead to come here and turn my weakness into bytes on the good ole blog.

New York is looking better and better as this week wears on. I'm really quite sick of Thayer Street food, especially Au Bon Pain (the closest place to the department).

In the meantime, I'll just stay here and watch Laura Branigan sing in a green puffy Sgt. Pepper jacket from 1990: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVHtnYgyVGs

Post-Bag

HELLO.
How's it going? Well on Monday I presented my dissertation proposal and I'm coming to two realizations. One, if my Brown Bag were me naked, I'd be totally be making money from Playgirl photo shoots. Two, the two weeks I spent trying to get that damn thing sexy have caught up to me, so I'm taking a personal day at home today. I was going to play video games all day, missing thumb and all, but I've got to head to the Sheridan Center for a session on training new TAs which only serves to remind me that we train on-the-job in Soc.

Oh and speaking of the thumb, the doctor gave me clearance to remove the brace during the day in about a week and a half. Afterwards, I'll have to wear it at night, but that means I can tie my shoelaces and button my shirtcuffs again.

I let a lot pile up in the past two weeks, mostly literally, but I guess since this blog is where I make bad metaphors, figuratively as well. I haven't cultivated my relationship with my roommates and I miss them. So I'm going to maybe make them dinner or at least take them out to eat. And on the more literal side, I've got piles of books and papers all over our living room. That I mind slightly less, though it does affect my relationship with my roommates (I would believe), but I've been cleaning that up as well.

With Spring Break coming up, I've decided to work a little, rest a lot. On the docket: my dissertation proposal (which when done turns me into a PhD candidate), a few papers for publication (use the Brown name for something), and cleaning my office (probably not going to happen). In any case, I'm starting off the break right and heading to New York on Saturday with Fred to see old Voxers for a day of probably really bad sex jokes and potty humor. In other words, the best time ever.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Holy Crap

Hello. Let me tell you stuff, as Wuyke would say. I'm doubly-hurt: I still have post-tibial tendonitis and now, after having been hit on the hand with a basketball (a hit, which, I might add, was so strong, after the ball hit my hand, it hit someone else's hand and hurt them too), I have to wear a thumb brace for six weeks. It seems that the extensor tendon on my left thumb tore and now I'm missing out on all the good stuff in life, like tying my shoelaces under 5 minutes and opening string cheese packages.

Also, I'm closing in on my dissertation proposal presentation, or as we call it here, the "Brown Bag." "Brown Bag" because it happens at lunch and "Brown Bag" because that's where my ass will be afterwards. It turns out I've totally rejected my teaching and gone all cultural sociology, in which you use words like "ontology" and "epistemology." I have no business uttering such "ologies." I've also gone all PoMo, which, as Hybel once put it, "exists only to confuse."