There 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.
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.
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.
Showing posts with label on writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label on writing. Show all posts
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Nothing to Say...
I am coming to the conclusion that if I wait until I have something to say, it will be weeks before I write anything. But since I wrote yesterday, I thought I might write again today.
At work, I am still working on finishing up assessment. The results are compiled, but now I'm trying to find "representative papers" as well as papers that are problematic. That is, they have significant strengths but also significant weaknesses, which makes them hard to grade.
Assessment sucks my brain. My energy. My ability to think.
Mea and I have been watching the first season of Mad Men. Todd, of course, hates it. He idealizes the 1950s and early 1960s, when the economy was good. And, of course, women stayed home and cooked and cleaned. Of course, women in my family, worked on the farm or what-ever kind of factory they could get. My grandparents also cut staves and sheared wool. Personally, I don't see much to idealize from that time at all, except the dresses.
And, oh, the dresses are sweet on Mad Men. So lovely. I would love to be able to shop in their costume department. I adore the fitted tops and full skirts.
The show itself? Too much soap opera for my taste. And too depressing to even be a good soap. I prefer my soaps a lot less dark.
At work, I am still working on finishing up assessment. The results are compiled, but now I'm trying to find "representative papers" as well as papers that are problematic. That is, they have significant strengths but also significant weaknesses, which makes them hard to grade.
Assessment sucks my brain. My energy. My ability to think.
Mea and I have been watching the first season of Mad Men. Todd, of course, hates it. He idealizes the 1950s and early 1960s, when the economy was good. And, of course, women stayed home and cooked and cleaned. Of course, women in my family, worked on the farm or what-ever kind of factory they could get. My grandparents also cut staves and sheared wool. Personally, I don't see much to idealize from that time at all, except the dresses.
And, oh, the dresses are sweet on Mad Men. So lovely. I would love to be able to shop in their costume department. I adore the fitted tops and full skirts.
The show itself? Too much soap opera for my taste. And too depressing to even be a good soap. I prefer my soaps a lot less dark.
Monday, July 28, 2008
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