tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285115042024-03-06T22:57:59.972-08:00A Rhetorical QuestionMusings from a writing teacher on life, learning, and laundry.
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"You see... all the world's a stage, and everything else... is Vaudeville." Alan Moore <i>V for Vendetta</i>Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.comBlogger266125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-31137719156136959002016-09-04T18:02:00.001-07:002016-09-04T18:02:13.330-07:00Hiatus, explainedA lot has happened since I took an unplanned hiatus. My PhD program decided that my progress was not sufficient. So that ended in May 2015.<br />
<br />My mom got sicker. Her chemo quit holding the cancer at bay. She died on June 27, 2016. I'm still reeling. She and I were always close. I saw here every day when she was in the hospital and when she was in rehab. I was with her when she died.<br />
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My dad is struggling on. He found a new house just a couple of weeks after she died, which needed work. Miss O and I have spend a lot of time over there working on it-- painting walls, scraping wallpaper, shopping for new lights and fixtures.<br />
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Pretending we are okay.<br />
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I spend a lot of time pretending to be okay. I'm not, of course. I am not sure if/when I will be. My friend Steve tells me that I'll never stop missing her, never stop thinking, "Oh, I need to ask Mom..." He hasn't. And he's probably right.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-11221646170438958972015-07-01T13:43:00.000-07:002015-07-01T13:43:00.023-07:00Ouch! That Hurt "You need to get your ears pierced. You are the only one who doesn't."<br />
"Dad won't let me."<br />
"You are 18 years old. He can't stop you. Besides, he's not here." Dorothy was persuasive. And insistent.<br />
"I don't know any where here that does it." We were in Panama City Beach, Florida. We were there on a school-wide senior trip. We, the 15 members of the senior class of Mt. Judea High School, had fund-raised all year to earn the money for that trip. Before the Internet and Yelp! we had rented some condos on the beach and traveled via school bus. "Condo" was actually used loosely by the marketing team. Two beds, one room and an extra sink,, mini-fridge and microwave does not typically mean "condo" to most people. But there we were, sleeping six to a sand-infested room.<br />
Dorothy, however, had noticed that the record store down the beach did piercing. Despite her questionable logic, off we went.<br />
Little Feet has either visited or the owner/manager was just a (huge) fan, but I only vaguely knew of them. I think they were contemporaries of Black Oak Arkansas. I am sure I could have bought their albums there, too.<br />
Dorothy told the guy behind the counter thant I wanted to get my ears pierced. He showed me the options. I picked out some simple gold balls. "Ugg! No. Those are boring. Get something better." My less boring, more acceptable choice was fake diamonds surrounded by fake gold. <br />
"All right, hold still." He shot the earring into my earlobe with a piercing gun. That hurt. Then he did the other one.<br />
I paid and walked out. My ears were still hurting, though. Dorothy tried to help me by loosening up the backs. Unfortunately, one earring came out. Dorothy, being the dear friend she is, shoved it back in.Ouch, that hurt!<br />
Unfortunately, the earring went back in crooked. Or maybe the guy put it in at an angle. Either way, my right earring was crooked for years. (Until it grew back, actually. I have been crazy enough to do this more than once!)Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-87424239238344036142014-08-27T11:31:00.000-07:002014-08-27T11:31:01.136-07:00August 2014The year is more than half over and here I'm getting back to my neglected blog. I don't even know why I was thinking about it.<br />
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Last week, the man who taught me about evolution died. He was a good Christian man who attended the local Church of Christ Church every week. When he started teaching us about evolution, he pointed to the Bible on his bookshelf and said, "That book tells you one way that the world is created. But this is science class and we are going to learn how science says that life originated. If you want to talk about what's in the Bible, see me outside of class, and I am happy to talk to you about it."<br />
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And we learned evolution. For Mr. Gregory, I am thankful.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-5941630723278813752013-07-05T17:20:00.001-07:002013-07-05T17:25:56.834-07:00WowWas that a 7 month hiatus?<br />
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How did that happen? How did my good habit of 20 minutes a day die such a quick, yet painful, death?<br />
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No clue. I've been working on my dissertation proposal. But it is still unfinished. And still nebulous.<br />
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I am starting another class on Monday. Summer II, Academic Writing and Research. Comp II is hard for 18-19 year olds anyway and is even harder in our 5 week summer term. I'll be using some high school techniques (and some middle school techniques) to try to entice them to think and to write.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-86700672758524838972013-01-07T19:41:00.000-08:002013-01-07T19:47:08.877-08:00Last day of breakToday was the last day of break for the kids. I have two days to myself to get ready for my classes.<br />
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And of course, as I was sitting here writing this, DH had a crisis. His glasses broke. I managed to hold them together and told him to find some super glue so I could try to put them together. And I told him where to find the super glue. I had it located within 12 square inches and even had the right name brand for once.<br />
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He couldn't find the glue, so he wanted me to look. I always suspected that his perception was that everything he do is harder than everything I do, but this proves it. I did eventually get up and find the glue, but of course, the glasses came apart again. I went right to the glue. He hadn't really looked. He walked in there and because it didn't jump off the shelf at him, I was "cruel" for making him look. Anyway, the glasses are glued together, but they aren't fixed by any stretch of the imagination.<br />
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Good lord help me. When things go well, they do. But the least little thing that goes wrong and it is a huge deal. Well, let me rephrase. If the least little thing goes wrong for him, it is a big deal. When thing go wrong for me, "he knows I can solve it."<br />
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*sigh<br />
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Fortunately, these days are few and far between. This level of drama is not something that I can deal with every day.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-37287365298988962862013-01-04T20:37:00.002-08:002013-01-04T20:37:23.930-08:00An Unproductive DayAll I really accomplished today was cooking dinner. I sat on the couch with my dh and watched home decorating shows, pretty much til he went to his doctor's appointment at 4. When he got home, I made dinner and we watched four episodes of Justified Season 3.<br />
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Justified may be my favorite series that is on the air right now. Harlen County reminds me a lot of Newton County. Not that we have that much crime, of course, but similar kinds of crime. Meth. Oxys. Stolen property. Weed. I like that the characters are nuanced. The hero is not all good; the villain is not all bad (and he speaks in beautiful King James-influenced English. Raylen has family problems. His father is involved with criminal enterprises, which causes Raylen no end of grief. Again, I can see how he must feel. I have some cousins who just can't seem to stay out of trouble with the law.<br />
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Our Liv is growing up. She's ten now, and seems to be destined to cause us grief. She is a drama queen. Where did all this drama come from? Also, she's popular. When I told her that I didn't know what to think about her being popular because I wasn't, she said, "Oh, did you like the friends you had?" Really?<br />
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In Heathers, I would have been Veronica. Shoot, I might have even been Martha (I was really pudgy in junior high). Liv might be a Heather, or at least one of the group who surrounded them. One of the group that JT wanted to eliminate. (Well, to be fair, he wanted to kill everyone, but he was a sociopath.) I guess I'll handle her the way I did the others: one crisis at a time, one joy at a time, one conversation at a time, one day at a time.<br />
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The thing about Liv is she's smart. She reads on, like, and 11th grade level, except it is a lexile level, which is slightly different from an actual reading level, except it isn't. Anyway, for a 5th grader, that is pretty good. But she doesn't always think clearly. I guess a lot of kids don't. I'm just not used to my kids not thinking. Mea over thinks everything. W thinks about how events can benefit him, or at least about how he can gain control of a situation. Like Mea, I overthink everything. Dh thinks, but sometimes his thought process is not obvious to me. But he *thinks*. But Liv? She floats. Floats and acts. This is foreign to me.<br />
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One of my friends posted on Facebook asking for a reading list for her son. For *life*. He is a bit squirrely, like Liv. Maybe I should make her read the list: <i>Caves of Steel</i> and <i>I, Robot </i>by Asimov, <i>Have Space Suit, Will Travel</i> by Heinlein, <i>Ender's Game</i> by Card, <i>The Prydain Chronicles</i> by Lloyd Alexander,<br />
<i>The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy</i> by Adams, <i>Ready Player One</i> by Cline, <i>Hamlet</i>, <i>Fahrenheit 451</i> by Bradbury, <i>The Education of Little Tree</i> by Forrest Carter, <i>The Alchemist</i> by Paolo Coelho, <i>My Side of the Mountain</i> by George. Hmmm....<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-60065927920437691302013-01-03T13:28:00.003-08:002013-01-03T13:28:48.568-08:00Another Day of WritingI am still trying to keep up with my 20 minutes a day. So here goes...<br />
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Today, I worked on painting a dresser for my guest room. I am hoping to get that room done before my Christmas break ends. After that, I hope to clean out Mea's old room and make that into a sewing room. I am going to paint the walls aqua, most of the furniture white and just have a very feminine room to sew and do crafts.<br />
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We'll do yoga again tonight, or at least that is the plan. Yesterday, my shoulders were sore and I had a headache all day. Today, my abs are sore. But I am heading out again tonight. I am also thinking about starting Weight Watchers again. I've gained back about 10 pounds, which is frustrating. I still pretty consistently wear a size 14, (which was an 18 when I was a kid). I'd like to ultimately get down to a 10 (which a 14 when I was a kid). I feel like this is a realistic goal. Sometimes. But then I realize that it will probably be another 30 pounds. Truthfully, I should weight about 150 pounds to be healthy. And that is what I weighed when I started working at UCA. (I weighed 164 when I started my PhD).<br />
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Of course, what do I want to do? Eat a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough. I somehow feel that would not be conducive to either.<br />
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Well, boys came home, which means that my writing is over for today.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-89940098277978063532013-01-02T08:50:00.004-08:002013-01-02T08:50:33.692-08:00January 2, 2013Seems as though it is time to get started on the new year. Yesterday felt a bit like a holiday-- I didn't feel like I had to do anything. So I didn't really. I worked on painting a dresser for the guest room, did dishes, and made supper. I did try a new recipe. Well, I sort of tried a new recipe. I began with a new recipe, but then added some stuff and left out some stuff and it was super good.<br />
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Mea came over for supper, which always makes me happy. Then she dragged me to yoga, which makes me less happy. I need to just suck it up and pay for a month and go twice a week. If I go twice a week, I feel like I'll eventually quit being so sore. Last night, though, there was a lot of downward dog. So my shoulders are kind of dying.<br />
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Today, I have plans. I plan to write for 20 minutes (which I am doing right now). I plan to work on my lesson plans. I plan to finish the dresser in my guest room with polyurethane and move it into place. I should work on my dissertation, but my head hurts, so it may not happen. I plan to make something awesome for supper (maybe taco soup-- I have leftover beans and diced tomatoes). Miss O had planned to have company over today, but then she threw up, so my day just got easier.<br />
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I've been avoiding news just because I find the world depressing. I mostly rely on what my friends filter out for me and post on Facebook. That usually seems to work pretty well. Today, however, not so much. My former professor, who lives in Memphis, had his house broken into. In St. Louis, two babies (ages 1 and 3) were locked outside and found by a newspaper carrier. (He called 911; they were taken to a hospital & DHS was called.) I might go back to avoiding news completely. Of course, my husband is watching a show about the Gallic wars, and that is not any less depressing.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-84458761103579497792013-01-02T08:29:00.001-08:002013-01-02T08:29:33.487-08:0020 minutesTonight I am planning to go to yoga with Mea. Yoga is the only kind of exercise that doesn't make me angry. I've tried others, of course. Fat girls always do. I tried aerobics, running, basketball, etc. Cheer, I liked okay, but really, there are so many years that you can shake your butt in front of people and shaking without an audience just feels pathetic. Yoga, though, doesn't make me nuts. It does, however, make me hurt, especially after a 2 year hiatus. <br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-11894610089137575982013-01-01T12:41:00.000-08:002013-01-01T12:41:18.162-08:00WritingStephanie Vanderslice posted this today: The <a href="http://writedespite.org/2013/01/01/hello-world/" target="_blank">Write Despite 20 minute a day challenge</a>. Most days for the past couple of months, I have been getting up an hour early to work on my dissertation. But not every day, especially when we don't have to be at work.<br />
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So here I am. I have pages written. But not enough. So I am making the commitment. At least 20 minutes every day. Maybe every day won't be on my dissertation. But every day, I will write for 20 minutes.<br />
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Maybe. :)Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-29203913986200822582012-12-19T14:00:00.000-08:002012-12-19T14:00:16.115-08:00Connecticut I've written a bit on here about our struggles with our son, who has an autism spectrum disorder. He also has problems with depression and anxiety. And I wonder a lot about how he is going to make it in the world. At 17 years old, he lives with his sister. We have high hopes of him being accepted to a private college with a program for students with Autism for the fall. That will sort him out for a while-- as long as he chooses to go to class. As long as he chooses to turn in his work. As long as he chooses to cooperate. And maybe that will be a long time. Four years even. Maybe he will graduate with a bachelor's degree, get a job and make his own way.<br />
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Maybe.<br />
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But if not?<br />
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I don't know. We are worn out. He can't move back in with us as any kind of long term thing. We still have another child at home. Even when she is grown, there is my sanity to think of.<br />
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There are no programs for adults who are mentally ill but intellectually functioning. (If you know of any, please leave a comment!)<br />
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Here is the thing: I don't think I am a bad parent. I have a 19 year old daughter who is a junior in college with a full ride scholarship (with a stipend), two part time jobs, and who likes to volunteer. I have a ten year old daughter who is a joy to be around, if she is a little bit hyperactive. I have a stepdaughter whom I helped raise who is a midwife and doula and a devoted church member. I am a teacher. I have students who come back to see me and who cite me as an influence in their lives. I don't feel like a failure as a parent or a mentor.<br />
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For the most part.<br />
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But I still don't know what to do about my son. I just continue to pray that I never see his name in the news.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-4548202424167009682012-12-18T04:32:00.001-08:002015-07-01T14:09:15.499-07:00And the roll didn't last long...Instead, I actually worked on my dissertation. A bit. But there are pages and they are not awful. (Maybe.)<br />
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I also got W's room completely cleaned out. We painted it and installed new flooring and moved Mea's bed in there. I still have a ways to go before I get Mea's room cleaned out, but now there is a place that she can come over and stay, and I am actually pretty happy about that. This has been a rough semester for her, but she came out on top, with a 3.6 gpa for the semester. And two jobs.<br />
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I am up this morning to work on my dissertation, but I have fasting bloodwork in a couple of hours and it is hard to think about important things with an empty stomach, so we have this.<br />
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Here is what I have really discovered in the past three months. One, on the internet, how much trust we put in a website is almost completely determined by its appearance. And two, women are nicer to each other online when men aren't around.<br />
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I do have something to read on communities of practice, so I guess I should go get it and start working.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-54732714544373107972012-09-24T16:29:00.000-07:002012-09-24T16:29:14.406-07:00On a RollThree days and three posts? Maybe it is a sign of the Apocalypse.<br />
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Grading papers for my class of remedial students is soul sucking. I have really connected with these students, but COME ON! Most of them did not come to conference, so they did not make the changes that I recommended to their drafts.<br />
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Oh those drafts are so bad. And some are too short? Who would like to guess how many times I told them that papers that were even a smidge too short would fail? I'll give you a hint-- it was more than twice. It was so many times that I started to feel like a real bitch for harping on it so much.<br />
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Here is the kicker-- this is the easiest assignment they will have in college writing. The assignment is a four page personal narrative about a time when the student learned something.<br />
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No matter, tonight the girls and I are going to go listen to Tim Gunn be wonderful. He'll be at UCA in 30 minutes. The only down side is that I am skipping a lecture on brain based philosophy that Norb is sponsoring, and I feel really terrible about that.<br />
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But whichever-- it is time to go!Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-26152524622348269192012-09-23T14:42:00.001-07:002012-09-23T14:42:48.414-07:00Cleaning OutSo, evidently, W has some hoarder tendencies.<br />
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Since Thursday:<br />
Washed = 11 hamper-fulls of laundry<br />
Tossed = 8 bags of trash<br />
Tossed = 2 bags of torn up clothing<br />
Tossed = pillows past salvage<br />
Packed to give away = 3 boxes of clothing/bedding that are no longer needed<br />
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Now, his room is in the state that most rooms are in when a normal kid moves out. Now we need to figure out what to keep, what to store, what to give away and what to pitch.<br />
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We are thinking we might make that room the guest room, since it is across the hall from the guest bath. It is also smaller than Mea's room, which is probably okay. She doesn't intend to move back in, anyway. I'll get input from her before I move her stuff, though. That would let us turn Mea's room into a craft studio. Her room is bigger, if suffering from an awkward layout.<br />
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I suppose I should quite planning and work on grading the papers I brought home with me.<br />
<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-40264785768083603362012-09-22T17:39:00.001-07:002012-09-22T17:39:15.221-07:00Empty-ish NestOur two oldest kids have moved out. Mea is in college, of course, and W has moved in with my step-daughter and her husband. Both, however, have left substantial amounts of stuff behind. Mea's room is slated to eventually become our guest room, or perhaps we'll open it back up to be part of the great room. W's room is going to be a craft room, and possibly also a guest room, if needed.<br />
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Between now and then, though, is the cleaning. I have picked up (so far) three white trashbags full of trash. AND eleven hamper-fulls of clothing and bedding. I've washed clothes and washed clothes since Thursday.<br />
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I've swept broken glass, granola bar wrappers, icing containers, chocolate chip bags, dirt, and bugs. I've picked up change, tools, pieces of sewing machines that he was fixing, pens and pencils (although I've thrown a lot of those away, too), a clip, a scope, Pokeman cards, books & lanyards. I've thrown away magazines, notebook paper, handouts from school, a Victoria's Secret catalog, study materials for FBLA contests, receipts and more.<br />
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At this point, I am tempted just to back up the truck to the window and throw everything out and start over. I know that would be dumb. There is a nice dresser in there, some nice shelves, and several of my books.<br />
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W got upset when he realized today that I was really cleaning out his room. He thinks I should clean his sister's room first, since she moved out first. And I'll grant that Mea's room is a mess. If we were to have company, I would have do so some serious cleaning for them to sleep there. But she has come and worked on it some. And, perhaps most importantly, it does not *stink.* There is nothing that smells quite as bad as a teenage boy in the best of circumstances, and this is not the best of circumstances. He still had dirty clothes from his FBLA trip in early July. And there was food in a cooler in his room TODAY from that trip.<br />
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He also broke his bed. It was made from 2x6s.<br />
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When he first moved out, we were looking at it as more of a trial separation. At this point, I am not sure if any of us could handle if he moved back in. That breaks my heart. It does. But I am not sure how I ever dealt with the amount of stress that he causes. I am not sure that I could go back to living under that much stress. I am certainly not sure that I should be subjecting Miss O to that.<br />
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I suppose I should go check on the laundry. It is kind of unending at this point.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-3042577353919818332012-09-03T12:18:00.001-07:002012-09-03T12:18:44.809-07:00Back to SchoolAnother August, another school year. I started teaching composition on the college level in the fall of 2003, which makes this my tenth year (but only my ninth year teaching full time). <div>
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There is a part of me that feels like I am too young to have been doing anything for 9 years, but if I am honest, I know that is not true. My eldest is a sophomore in college this year. My middle child is a senior in high school, and my baby (my baby!) turned 10 last May. Adding in my years in public school, and I have been a teacher for 12 years. </div>
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Twelve years. </div>
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I have been a teacher almost as long as I was in public school, which seemed like forever. </div>
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It kind of feels like I have been teaching forever, too, though. It is hard to remember before I was teaching. Probably because I didn't sleep a whole lot because I had two little kids who never.went.to.sleep. </div>
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Maybe, though, it seems like I have been teaching forever because I love teaching. I love giving my students the skills to write competently and persuasively. I do not love fighting for attention. Every time I go up against a boyfriend/girlfriend, car payment, greek organization or sick child, I lose. I can't win. I need students who will meet me half way. I realize that my gen ed classes (or worse-- major prerequisites!) are not the top priority in my students lives. Really, I have noticed. </div>
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*Sigh. </div>
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Maybe the answer is to make college harder to get into. Maybe we should require students to invest something of their own, rather than allowing them rely completely on scholarships/financial aid. Maybe.maybe.maybe. </div>
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Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-12709814843150828392012-07-19T04:02:00.001-07:002012-07-19T22:22:52.117-07:00Another Summer, Another Funeral PostI go to more funerals in the summer than I do through the school year simply because it is logistically easier to do so. Also, I can justify skipping a funeral in favor of sending flowers if I would have to take off work to go. In the summer, though, it is harder to justify not going to pay my final respects and give my condolences to families in person. Of course, all of this is complicated by the fact that most of the funerals that I want to attend are over two hours away. If the funerals were down the street here in town, I would actually go to more of them.<br />
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The funeral I am going to today is that of an old friend's grandmother. Her name was Iva. (Of course, being from the Ozarks, "Iva" is pronounced "Ivy." My mom named me "Laura" and has always called me "Laurie," too. And while we are the subject of pronunciation, the "au" in my name is pronounced like the "a" in "car" rather than the "o" in "core.") Ivy is the grandmother of Joe Jr., who was my brother's best friend when we were growing up. Joe Jr. went to our church and to our school, so we saw a lot of him. Joe Jr.'s mom, Linda, (Ivy's daughter) taught my Sunday School class one year. This is one of those situations that comes up a lot in small, close knit communities. I was not close to Ivy. I may or may not have ever spoken to her. But our lives intersected. Even with all that, though, I probably would have just sent flowers or a card if it were just up to me. </div>
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But it is not just up to me. My brother is heading north for the funeral today and I am riding along. I will be glad that I went, because I'll see people who were once important to me. Funerals up home tend to be a cross between a family reunion and a fire-and-brimstone, scare-them-into-heaven pentecostal (or Church of Christ) church service. I don't know what flavor of religious service I am getting today, but I know that I'll run into someone I know, and I'll be glad I did. </div>Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-48917155071566286532012-05-22T12:34:00.001-07:002012-05-22T12:34:35.631-07:00Since my last post...During finals, I had pneumonia. I would get up off the couch, unplug my vaporizer, and go sit in a classroom for two hours and collect finals, then go home, plug the vaporizer up again, put my head under the towel, lie down on the couch and try to breath.<br />
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I did that all week. I was really glad that I had finished grading the homework, so that all that was left were revisions and reflections. I must say, though, that I need to tweak the reflection assignment. I really don't want to read last-minute whining about how hard the class is.<br />
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Yes. Writing is hard. I've noticed. It is hard for me, too.<br />
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Last week and the first part of this one are my time off. The kids and husband are still in school, so I have the house to myself to catch up on what I need to do. I've done a huge amount of laundry, picked up the house, and actually made some things. I made Olivia a nightgown, which turned out cute. A top for me in the wrong size (also cute, but doesn't fit), and a dress, that is currently in two pieces because I had to shorten the top, which I discovered after I cut it out, and had it all sewn up.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-88078984387885205442012-04-26T14:47:00.001-07:002012-04-26T14:47:11.570-07:00End of Term Wrap-UpI have a (metaphorical) stack of homework to grade on Blackboard, but I am antsy, waiting on UPS. I have a camera coming from a mad eBay sale.<br />
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After homework, I need to grade revisions. I need to figure out a way to give students exactly how many points are available for the semester so that they can keep up with their own grades. Now, I tell them what percentage of their grade assignments are, but only the ones who know how to work graphing calculators have a clue how to figure out their grades. (Those people my best students, but rarely my best writers.)<br />
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To kill time, while I am being antsy, I am watching Dr. Who. I have to say, I still am not a fan of Matt Smith. Part of this is just because I loved the idea of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paterson_Joseph" target="_blank">Patterson Joseph</a> replacing <a href="http://www.david-tennant.com/" target="_blank">David Tennant</a>. Part of it is Matt Smith is just not really the same caliber of the Shakespearean actors that he followed. <br />
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I suppose I should hop off of here and do some work. Sure Mr. UPS will be here soon with my new toy. And if I do some work, I will be able to play with. :)Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-39450680550217313772012-03-07T08:23:00.001-08:002012-03-07T08:24:24.818-08:00Just a drive-by updateI have been working on my dissertation for the last 5 days.<br />
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I am so frustrated because if I had had any kind of clue what I wanted to study when I was going through my coursework, this would have been so much better. I have spent so many hours pursuing topics that didn't go anywhere except for class papers.<br />
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And I just get so overwhelmed because I am really starting with nothing. I don't even really know how to use the method of analysis that I am using.<br />
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I am just floundering.<br />
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And any help is really about 14 hours away. Not something I can take off and do in a weekend, even a long one.<br />
<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-10464460290697601462012-02-22T06:18:00.000-08:002012-02-22T06:18:41.151-08:00One of those days...I overslept. My husband woke me up, as always, but then went outside to check on the dogs. One had escaped, so he spent 15 minutes chasing him and securing the fence.<br />
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I woke up when he came back in. 15 minutes late. I don't allow a whole lot of time to get ready in the mornings. I rarely wear makeup, my hair is low maintenance, so it really only takes me about 30 minutes to get ready and get out the door.<br />
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Olivia was also still in bed. She had neglected to lay out her clothes last night, so she was completely ineffective. (She ended up carrying clothes with her to the car and getting dressed on the way.)<br />
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Since I was running behind, I decided to wear my hair curly instead of heat-styling it. But it was a bit frizzy, so I needed my spray bottle to put some water on it. I saw the Ace-Hardware sprayer that I used, and sprayed my hair.<br />
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Only after I had lost my coffee did I realize that the sprayer was not my water sprayer, but was instead full of spray cleaner. I have no idea what is in my hair. I am hoping ammonia. It didn't smell like bleach.<br />
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I eventually found my coffee and ran out of the house. I was stopped by two red lights, of course, but that was okay, since it gave Miss O more time to get dressed.<br />
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I walked into my classroom at 7:54, so the morning ended okay, I suppose. But I am still worried about what is in my hair.<br />
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Oh, and to top it all off, I am sick. I've got a doctor's appointment at 3:30 this afternoon.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-50091021817062454572012-02-15T08:12:00.000-08:002012-02-15T08:12:08.789-08:00Time keeps on slippin'...I don't know how the time keeps slipping past me. Well, I take that back. I do know what happened last week. Last week I was in a funk.<br />
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My job is as a contingent faculty member in a wonderful department in a wonderful university. Seriously, I love what I do and where I do it. I work with a great bunch of people. However, I am on a one-year, non-renewing contract. I always know that April may roll around and my name not appear on the schedule.<br />
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Evidently some other people in my same position practice magical thinking and secretly believe that some how, some way, they will achieve the holy grail for masters-level faculty: lectureship. <br />
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Right.<br />
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One person was actually kind of lied to about the possibility of a lectureship. But you know what? She read the writing on the wall and got a real job.<br />
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Me? I continue to hold on, mostly because I like our insurance and I have kids at home. One is in ballet and piano and one is in therapy. Both of them keep me running.<br />
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But I digress. The reason that I am all in a funk is that our chair, in trying to make everyone understand why we will not be getting lectureships, somehow makes us seem like... well, unimportant. Replaceable. Interchangeable. (This is not completely his fault. The university has a policy that codifies that stance.)<br />
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So there it is. For the first time in a number of years, I am considering work outside of education. I am even considering an MBA. (Evidently math is not really a requirement.)<br />
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(I am also considering whether starving myself the rest of today can somehow manage to make my weight go back to last week's weigh in by my weigh in tomorrow. I consider lots of things.)<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-36285630863545282122012-01-30T11:35:00.000-08:002012-01-30T11:35:24.091-08:00Time Machine in a Legal PadThere is nothing quite like stumbling up on an old notebook. I have rarely used separate notebooks based on subjects or even projects. Instead, whatever is on my mind during a particular time seems to migrate itself onto the pages of the notebook (or legal pad) of the moment.<br />
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Take the one I found today. In its pages nestle a book idea, free writing from writing along with students, perhaps, or just killing time, notes about an extinct publication that I was once part of, email addresses of students long graduated, notes from articles that I read, notes from a class that I was taking and notes from a class that I teaching, a phone message, and notes from a presentation that I gave.<br />
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From the class notes, I would place this notebook in 2007. I was in my second semester of my PhD program in my first class with Stephanie, Hannah and Vince.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-40261339747751804082012-01-20T10:39:00.000-08:002012-01-20T10:39:07.722-08:00A Week LaterI've been actually tracking my food since I wrote last, and have lost another pound. Maybe Weight Watchers in my head is not as good as Weight Watchers in my computer.<br />
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I've survived the second week of the semester, and I survived session three of some professional development that I have been doing at the local high school. I am so glad that contract is almost done.<br />
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I've at least looked at my dissertation lately, which is something. I am hung up on figuring out how much sewing women actually did at home before paper patterns and sewing machines. I feel like it is important to have that bit of information. How else can I talk about the rhetorical construction of "work"? And how women's identity were defined? That seems to be important to me.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28511504.post-87875259628248073382012-01-13T10:36:00.000-08:002012-01-13T10:36:34.311-08:00How does this happen?How on earth does 8 months go by before I post?<br />
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I think that I am too busy living life right now to sit down and reflect. Work. Kids. PhD (ha!).<br />
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I should report that Weight Watchers Online has been a success. I've lost about 30 lbs, but then I've stalled. I wish that I could make myself get serious about it again. Fine. I'll go track yesterday's food.<br />
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Done.<br />
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See? I need more reflection in my life.<br />
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Now, of course, I need to eat (something healthy!) and go teach my last class.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07575808636005236085noreply@blogger.com0