In which my true self is revealed

How evil are you?

Well, maybe, but I did return a Home Despot credit card I found on the street today.

In which we regroup

Wow, it certainly has been a while. I'm, like, the anti-NaBloPoMo 'round here. Sorry.

Ok, first it was the end of the quarter at St. Happy U., which included a final-exam time-slot of 8:45 a.m. Dude, seriously. For all of four students who took the exam option. And now I have a pile of papers and exams to grade by Friday, so I really should get started on those soon.

Then, I dove into teaching Donne at UChaos. I was so excited about doing Songs and Sonnets (in which there are no sonnets!), but they're so tired, it was quite a slog through them. And tomorrow we do some Elegies and The First Anniversary, which I fear will further trample them down. And how about ending with some refreshing Herbert? Yes, that'll be awesome. Plus, I'm being observed for some Teaching-Certificate-related nonsense on Wednesday. Whee.

Then there's the good: Thanksgiving in Rural PA. Family, food, the whole shebang. Instead of cheesecake, this year I made this, which is so super-fantastic I want to eat it every morning until the end of time. And I've ascended to a new level of competence in my mom's eyes, as I was left singularly in charge of the kitchen for a good 45 minutes while she had to run out and pick up my brother from somewheres. I think I've perfected my green-bean recipe (pan-fried in olive oil with minced onions, splashed with balsamic, lemon, and lime juice, topped with crumbled cheese, fresh mozzarella in this case, though feta is better). And my mom introduced me to the wonder of fancy-schmansy gourmet salt. We are a salt-loving family.

Mostly, it was good to see everyone together and happy after a fairly tough year that isn't quite over yet. Sappy, yes, but we made up for that with the general mocking and hard-time-giving.

There was also shopping, of course, as this seems to have become an inadvertent tradition. We chose our spots wisely, though, and so were not trampled. Carl wound up with not one, but two velvet sportscoats. Because he clearly needed them. We might have to throw a party for the burgundy one.

Oh, yeah, and there was a party last weekend. Our friends look pretty swanky when we force them to dress up. But remind me that the weekend before Thanksgiving is no time to be throwing a party, though it did mean that we left a fairly clean apartment.

And how are you? Full? Happy? Thankful? Tired?

In which I catch up on some correspondence

Dear Ohio,

Thanks for a lovely weekend. You were so very nice and gracious that I hate to mention this one little thing, but could you do something about the roadkill? I'm still traumatized by the chunk of deer that I ran over Thursday night (and then screamed for a mile) and the drive back to Columbus brought three more deer, two coyotes, and a wide variety of small, smushed critters. Just, ew. Also, aaaaaahhhhhhh.

And this may just be a small-town quirk, but that thing where you turn off the traffic signals at 10 p.m.? Is weird. But I did love your ranch dressing. Thanks for that.

Kisses,
S.

* * * * *
Dear UChaos,

Listen, I'm only telling you this because I'm your friend. You know you're super-cute and super-nice and super-cool, but you have, like, this reputation? Like, with other universities? They think you're like, mean and snobby and crazy. Now, I tried really hard this weekend to tell them that you're totally not like that, but for some reason they're kind of... scared?...of you. Did you, like, use to make fun of everyone else? I think that maybe you need to apologize to some people, because they would totally be your friend if they really knew you.

Just being honest because I love you,
S.

* * * * *
Dear St. Happy U,

Thank you so much for finally being done with the quarter. Could you maybe talk to UChaos about this scheduling thing? Because I don't think they understand it.

Love,
S.

In which all's well that ends well

Good day. Presentation went well. Not a lot of questions for me, but I'm choosing to believe that the reason for that is that I blew their minds, baby. And the Grand Old Man who sat in on my session, the GOM who's editing a fancy edition of My Play, said it was one of the best papers he's ever heard (oh, heavens) and asked for a copy.

And then, because I do what I do, I rounded up a herd of grad students and junior faculty, got them drunk, and took them on a midnight field trip to Wal-Mart. It's a gift, what I have.

In which I live-blog my continuing procrastination

9:14 p.m.: I'm here, wherever this is, ensconced in my tiny faux-Victorian room overlooking an impressive-looking river. I have wireless, but no phone except roaming. I have water, and yogurt, and snacky Gardettos, and cigarettes, and music. I have 17 pages that need to become 10, and if they could cohere at some point, that would be great, too.

Thanks for the good thoughts and cheerleading. I'll keep y'all posted.

9:56: Ok, earlier there was some kind of air-raid siren, and just now there was some kind of explosion outside that sounded not really like fireworks. Where the hell am I?

I'm now up to 19 pages. This is not the direction I'm supposed to be headed in.

10:51: Holding steady at 16 pages. It seems that I'm writing just as much as I'm cutting. Need diet Coke. Must put pants on.

12:21: Things were weird out there. The QuickyMart had, in its array of bottled iced teas, extra-sweet tea. Apparently I'm in the south.

But now I've read Carl what I have, and pieces are sliding into place. Kind of. Down to 10 pages. We may be in the home stretch.

12:45: Done! No, really! I think it might actually be good! Yay me!

1:18: Final update. Wow, had I only read my horoscope for this week before I sunk into crazyland:

Sometimes, Virgo, you're too damn smart for your own good. You may describe a problem so brilliantly, for instance, that you think you've solved it merely by talking about it, and never get around to actually fixing it. On other occasions your fine mind runs amuck in an orgy of razor-sharp analysis, cutting things apart in order to understand them but not putting them back together again. I beg you not to indulge in these excesses during the coming week. Your intelligence will be soaring beyond even its usual exceptional levels, and it would be a shame for you not to capitalize on it momentously. (Free Will Astrology)

Next up, then, capitalizing on my enormous, exceptional brain.

In which I freak out

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhaaaaaahhhhh.

Paper still not done. At least I'm packed. Freaking out.

Someone remind me that I do this to myself, under the stupid idea that I work better under deadline.

In which I am clearly unprepared

So, that conference paper? The one I'm giving on Friday afternoon, after flying to Columbus tomorrow and then driving to the conference college and then jumping on the hotel bed? Still holding at 16 pages gleaned from the much longer essay with a totally different argument. Still lacking its own argument or any connective tissue. Still lacking either a section explaining the title or the scene mentioned specifically in my abstract. And still not writing itself.

And yet, my head refuses to work properly. It wants to flip through the Sephora catalog while watching Top Model. At least I got all my class-related work done today, including a stack of essay grading, some pdf-making, and writing up a quiz and a whole slew of final essay prompts. (Let's not think right now about the final exam I'll have to write as soon as I get back.)

I need my own personal cheerleader for moments like this.

In which I further consider business cards

Paying no attention to the swelling to-do list at my elbow, let's think about Al's suggestion for what else to put on my imaginary business cards. She's going with "Erstwhile Rockstar." Yes, this pleases me. Other tagline options:

• Gal-about-Town
• Better than you
• Grammar Ninja
• Freelance Crank
• Hi.

and a new, strong contender, cribbed from Truewit at Blogging the Renaissance:

• The early seventeenth century: shining Golden Age of EVERYTHING.

Ok, that bit of silliness aside, I now have to turn to the seven remaining items on this weekend's to-do, including such minor tasks as "write conference paper" and "grade pile of midterm essays."

In which I lodge a complaint and pose a question

Item the first: My El station is closing in a month, for an unspecified length of time. Granted, I'm on a stretch where the stations are really close together, so this'll add only a couple of blocks onto my walk to the train, but one of the appealing things about this apartment was the fact that it's only two blocks from the train. Plus, how awesome is it to close a station just as winter, snow, ice, and unshoveled sidewalks are posed to make an appearance? Not awesome at all, actually.

Item the second: Would it be deeply cocky of me to make up some business cards for the conference? Nothing fancy, just something with my name and e-mail address--it seems pretentious to put my university or candidate status on it, right?

Item the third (unadvertised): I got a small travel grant for the conference. This means I can indulge in a large-ish car for the drive from Mid-Sized Midwest City (where I'm flying in) to Nowheresville Conference City. What should I get?