Comprehensive Exams and Presents

I am siting up at the university in a room that smells vaguely of hamsters. The building is an old elementary school and I swear this had to have been the kinder wing! Im proctoring several students' (couple from Counseling, couple from Early Childhood and a couple from Reading), comprehensive exams. 5 questions, 5 hours, 5 essays. As I watch and feel the tension (One girl asked, "Can we use our notes, please?), I of course am reminded of my own. At UT they do each person's exams individually in a broom closet. Yes, Im serious. At a mulit million dollar, tier 1 university, their doctoral students are placed in a closet behind a laminating machine with nothing more than an old mac computer with Microsoft, blank paper, a pen, and your snack. I had ye old jolly ranchers, which was my addiction at the time. There, you are left, without a purse, without a way out to type everything you have learned about learning, reading, education, and life. So scary. And here, the cycle repeats and I, the guru in charge, sit watching their fate unfold. It's still scary. I hate high stakes tests, even though I have always done well. They are just so final, so decisive, so illusive.

In the middle of this 5 hour Hell, I met with another graduate student in Counseling about her thesis. Ive worked with her for about a year now. The cool part was that I got my first nice gift! I mean, students are thoughful here; one brings me a diet vanilla coke each time we meet, and I get an email here and there, but today this particular student brought me a wonderful necklace made by one of my favorite brands, LUCKY. She noticed my purse and wallet and knew it would be something I liked. So, my first nice gift from a student.

I spent yesterday making a final exam for my content area literacy class and waiting for my dad to drop by. He was attending my Uncle Ken's funeral in Corpus Christi and driving through San Antonio on his way back to Dallas. He finally got here about 5 and saw the house. I thought my dad was going to stay the night, as he said he was, but when he got here, he had decided not to. He didnt even stay for dinner. I was a bit heartbroken, I must admit. I mean, Ive lived here for a year and neither my mom or my dad had come. I guess I should know better, they didnt visit in Austin either. I wonder what they would do if they had grandchildren. Maybe it is always going to be up to me to get there, not them to come here. It is a racket of mine, I suppose.

So, last night I hung out at home with the doggies. I took Zoey into the front yard and played hose. She loves to chase it, barking, snarling, and getting completely soggy. If there werent any dang kitties, she could play without her leash, but alas, too many strays in my neighborhood. Of course, Mouser wouldnt even venture near the door because, "Oh, God, there is water!"

My brother, Eric and I

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My grandpa's dog, Willow

Look at all these clothes...

This is Mitzie Mouse's wardrobe. She still needs a fourth of July bandanna (with the safety clips) and sunglasses. Contained in her drawer is, 2 pink coats, one pink sweater, 6 summer shirts, 5 winter shirts, reindeer antlers, a santa hat, holly necklace, 6 bandannas, 2 hair clips, boots, rabbit ears, a dress from Korea, and her old pink collar. She now wears a collar her friend Logan gave her. Is that a lot? I know it is crazy, but 1) She loves to wear her shirts, 2) She is 15 years old, 3) She deserves presents from people seeing as I buy their little twerps shit, and 4) she is the best dog. So, stop being judgmental!

I'm just so tired.

I'm not sleeping well and thus, it is hard to know if the anxiety and stress is a result of not getting enough sleep, or if the sleep is a result of the anxiety and stress. I've taught cause and effect so many times as a TAKS objective, you would think I would know! Doesn't really matter, I suppose. I'm scared to start sleeping medication though as I know they are totally addictive. Plus, I am a natural sort of girl. I believe we are all crazy, it's a sliding scale.

But, I am tired and can't sleep. I dont understand how to deal with that. I have always been a good, solid 8 hour sleeper...even my mom told me that when I was first home from the hospital, I slept all night. She was worried (you know, new babies are supposed to be up every 3 hours or so!). She would constantly check on me. So, I have no coping mechanisms for this.

My "anxiety causing" list: too many things to grade, finals being one hour long, students who have taken 8 class periods with me expecting to pass a high stakes TeXeS exam, my back door wont open, the air conditioner is always running, hunger, research tasks are too plentiful, writing in general, all my walls are cracked, my yard has dead patches, water is expensive, my cat needs furminating and I dont want to because it makes me so itchy, i hate working out, a colleague is making me nuts, Zoey needs more exercise, my grandpa is dying, my grandma is falling apart, my car could fall apart any second, loans, i can't sleep, chocolate speaks my language and calls to me, my uncle who is basically the last living relative on my dad's side died yesterday, my foot itches, a gouged 3 cm split in my fingernail, working out sucks, cockroaches..enough is enough! I quit life.

My Uncle Ken

died yesterday. He was a loving man, to both my late Aunt Pug and my family. It is so sad that the good people have to go. I think it is a flaw in the Universe's plan.

The Paramount Experience

I went to Austin today to visit an old icon, the Paramount Theatre, and Austin's Summer Classic Film Series or Loretta's Greatest Obsession. So, after grading horrible examples of children's literature made by college students, I headed to Austin. At 7, after a stop at ye ole 7-11 for drinks, chocolate, and gummy things shoved into our purses, we headed to see North by Northwest. I had never seen a film at the Paramount, a theatrical production, yes. Movie? no. So, there we were watching a old, classic film with a hot, classic Cary Grant. Even the bad guys seemed so sexy in their trousers and hats. You know, I am usually not a big movie person, and you wont find me watching a classic movie on Turner on my little 26 inch TV. However, this movie was great. I think I need to start watching movies from the 50s and 60s. The colors and the architecture were amazing. I love that era of decorating and furniture. Oh yes, and dont get me started on the hot men factor of old movies. Why are men of yesteryear so much sexier than those today?

The movie takes me to a memory of my childhood: Mt. Rushmore. My mom, brohter and I drove to Iowa one summer to spend some time with my aunt. It was THE ONLY time we went together on a vacation and even then, my dad wasnt there. But, we saw the Black Hills and the carved faces. I wonder why my family never went and did anything together. I cant recall any family trips, be it the zoo or Disney World. I wonder why.

Now, I am back to editing. This time I am working on thesis manuscripts. Joy.

The Summer in Hell

I think I am living in a hell of my own creating. I am always busy, always running, and mostly overwhelmed. However, this 4 week summer session idea ha got to go. It is a fucked up idea. I have 35 students in one course and 6 students working on theses. What a racket! I was grading yesterday for 18 hours including editing 25 annotated bibliographies and 4 chapters from random students. I went to bed at 2 after also making the powerpoint for class today and was up at 7 with baby Zoey. From 9:30-1 I met with 10 students. Then to class for 3 hours, followed by students trailing me to my desk and two waiting there for "their appointments." HELL. My brain was fried by the time I made it to dinner. It just seems nuts that Diane does that every day, from 8-6, even on most weekends. I just feel dead. Maybe this isnt the job for me?

Now, I am sitting on the couch with the guilt of needing to read another student's chapter before tomorrow morning. Did I tell you I have 2 projects of my own going on too? A chapter, a digital manuscript, and coteaching manuscript. I must get some stuff done on those too. I just want to shop for shoes. Mindless and lovely shoes.

Speaking of shoes, Shelley and I decided that at the graduation this summer we were going to get some outrageous shoes to wear with my doctorate robes. We were thinking pink sparkley Chuck Taylors or saddle shoes and socks with lace.

As for other happenings: My grandpa fell again (nothing new, he falls at least 2 times a week because of his severe Parkinson's), however, this time, he couldnt remember who he was or what was happening. He just kept falling asleep. By the time the paramedics got there (which they come out a couple times a week), his blood pressure was so low and his glucose high and he was severely dehydrated which is weird because he has a feeding tube and is monitored so closely. He is stable now, doing fine and is aware. But, the question is, what will my parents do? Him staying at home isnt working. I have a feeling, nothing. None of us will. Its horrible.

Im not sleeping too well, you can imagine. Still having bad dreams and some paranoia. My friend Diane says it is probably stress. Am I stressed?

I spent all day today...

doing 2 things: a) editing 2 grad students' work, and b) cleaning the dog hair left on the floor after a visit by 2 Labradors. Such fun.

I just had the WORST dream...

and awoke scared. Worst part was that I could knew the man was outside but couldn't get to 911 fast enough. I was on the phone when he barged in and began to rape me. Im traumatized right now.

Summer Mania

Well, the first week of summer session has begun and the mania was over the top. On Tuedday I dont think I even sat down at my desk. Today I got home about 7. Still, it is fun to be busy, not to put out fires, but needed. I am teaching a content area literacy class (5 dropped and 2 cried after seeing the syllabus). It is a lot of work and I do believe that our students are not used to working hard, especially in the summer. One student came and asked me if there was anyone else who taught the course. I had to say, "Nope. It is me now, later, or later!" He didnt think it was so funny. I did. It is hard for them to understand why in my class the expectations are so high, but in another, there are 4 tests, all multiple choice, one a week. I just cant let the expectations drop because they are going to be teachers, even if I have to grade it all!! Seriously! Some professors dont have an issue; I do.

Also fun is that I have finally finished and uploaded my book club article. That is one down. 4 more to go.

The BEST show ever: 2 favorites in one!

Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List: Your Best Bette!

28 Hours in Vegas. It's a Hard Knock Life.

I just got in from a crazy, last minute (as in I left with my friend Shelley yesterday at 8am), trip to Vegas to see Bette Midler last night. It is weird to think that one can fly across multiple states and return in but a few hours. So, on Saturday at 3pm, I heard word that a trip to Vegas was occurring (with or without me) and I was to be ready to leave from Austin Sunday morning. I had 30 minutes to pack and head to Austin before a meeting with Diane over an article whose revisions are due in a couple days. I got in from spending the evening writing and then the play Annie with Diane (which was cute, splendid, and had a real Sandy!), around midnight. By the time Loretta and I went to bed, it was about 1 and I was up and headed to the airport by 6:00am. Shelley arrived before me, around 8am. I got in about 10:45am. Shelley rented a car (why, I am still not sure), but was there to pick me up which was totally cool. After almost being killed by Shelley's driving, we arrived at Bally's (where we were staying) and checked in. The room was nice and clean, but we both were too excited to sit still although exhaustion was afoot. We walked The Strip until I got a call from a girl who was selling her Bette Midler tickets on craigslist. We got $1000.00 ($500 x 2), for $300, literally meeting the people in their car right off the strip in a drive by. After walking forever we sat at Serendipity's for Frozen Hot Chocolate (I have found heaven) and I only had a couple sips! They also had a Divine Miss M Sunday (complete with pineapple) in honor of her 100th show. It was a one day thing and the Caesar Salad girls just happened to be there in costume! As the need for a nap hit hard, we headed back to Bally's and napped for...well, Id say I slept for 15 minutes. Shelley laid around a bit longer. I couldn't...It was only 2 hours to Bette! So, I left Shelley there to sleep and meet me at the Colosseum at Caesar's Palace. She was L-A-T-E! Because she insisted on driving, she almost missed the start of the show! I abandoned the wait for her and left her ticket at will call. She made it right before the show started. The Show? DIVINE. SIMPLY DIVINE. I loved every minute of it, especially because I got to see it through Shelley's eyes, who didn't really "know Bette Midler" or think she would like her. Even Shelley was impressed. She loved it. The sweetest thing? She indulged me in my stalker tendencies and we waited outside the entrance for at least an hour. No sign of Bette. Maybe in August? We left Bette and headed to a bar called Minus 5 housed in the Mandalay Bay. It is a bar made completely out of ice. The cups, the seating, the walls, everything. When you go in they give you a coat, boots, and mittens. It was cool (pun intended)! We crawled into bed late. I hopped up at 8:30am to attempt to get the stupid rental car to the lot at the Bellagio by 9. I drove like a bat outta hell and made it the one mile on the Strip. If you've seen it, you know that is a feat. When I arrived back to our room, Shelley was up, showered and dressed..that the hell? She was refusing to take the car back when I left. I figured she would be lazy and I would have time to get a shower. No luck. I packed, ponytailed the hair and we went to Paris for breakfast. I had Vegetable soup, she had a croissant filled with yumminess. I hate diets. More walking, only the other way, pictures, fancy stores, and laughs. Such fun. Airport and home. Woosh.