Crazy without the Cat

A few years ago, I made a pact with my friend (and now roommate) Ticcoa that I wouldn’t get a cat. (I think the stipulation was that as long as I was single, I wouldn’t get a cat.) I think that, since I’m a librarian and English teacher and have been single for so long, the theory is that I could eventually morph into a crazy cat lady.

Guess what?

I don’t need the cat to be just plain crazy.

On Saturday, I went through the drive-thru at Taco Bell. Later, I read the label on one of the many snarky sauce packets I was using to spice up my Gordita. The caption? “I’m single. Are you?”

I poured the sauce on my Gordita and threw the empty packet back into the bag while saying, “Yes, I am, sauce packet. Thanks for the reminder.”

It wasn’t until relating this story to Ticcoa last night (during which she was laughing hysterically, I might add) that I realized that this isn’t exactly normative behavior. I was actually in the middle of saying, “It’s not like I actually talked to the pac—” when I realized that, in fact, I did talk to the sauce packet. In a likewise snarky, bordering-on-bitter voice. As if the sauce packet has some actually vested interested in my love life.

Good heavens. Has it come to this? Am I the kind of woman who talks to Taco Bell sauce packets? Yes. Yes, I am. The thing is that this is just one of many very odd quirks that I’m coming to recognize might just be not-so-subtle clues that I’m turning into a crazy lady, even without owning any cats. I won’t both mentioning any of those other quirks lest you decide to run screaming from your computer.

The good news? Ticcoa (almost in tears from laughing) said, “I didn’t laugh so hard this summer until you moved in.” At least my crazy is good for amusing others.

Reification

I’m reading Frederic Jameson, a Marxist critic, for a presentation for lit theory tonight. This guy is complicated and brilliant and fascinating, but I have to stop at the end of every sentence and break down what he says (and sometimes those sentences go on and on and on and on…).

As a result of his brilliance, I keep stumbling across words I’ve never seen before. Right now, I’m puzzling over the word “reification.”

The root word is “reify,” a verb meaning to make an abstract concept more concrete (something I’ve been doing with every sentence of Jameson’s that I’ve read).

But when I first read the word, I thought, “Who decided that we could ‘if’ again?” Yeah, that’s weird, I know, but Jameson is making up words, so maybe.

The word is actually derived from the Latin root re-, which means “thing.” So…”reify” essentially means to “thing-ify.”

And this is a scholarly word.  Who are these people who make these words? And how can I be one of them?

Musings

1. Just moments ago, I finished a complete, though unedited, draft of the final project for my Caribbean women’s writing class. At 5,052 words and 16+ pages, it’s the longest paper I’ve written in three years (though still quite short when compared to my lit theory paper and honors project). At the beginning of the semester, I felt overwhelmed looking at the syllabus. A 15-20 page essay due on the same night as a 5-7 page theory paper (which is actually 8.5 right now)? Plus a ton of reading–both primary works and secondary, critical essay. Overwhelming doesn’t actually come close to what I felt thinking about getting all this work done while working full-time and teaching. But I’ve done it! The end is here. The semester ends tomorrow night, after an informal 10-15 minute presentation on my final project and turning my essays in. Then…an almost two-week break before summer school begins. Once I push through that, I’ll have about six weeks of a summer break. And it’s gonna be awesome.

2. I bought the Doctor Who soundtrack. The theme song is epic, in case you didn’t realize. Epic music (without lyrics) is perfect for paper writing.

3. Speaking of Doctor Who, I found an awesome pick-up line/knock-knock joke on a Facebook group this afternoon:

Knock, knock?
Who’s there?
Doctor.
Doctor Who?
That’s right, baby.

It’s so cheesy, but I giggled. And I keep giggling (at least internally) every time I think about it. If a guy ever said that to me, I’m pretty sure I’d at least go to dinner with him. Maybe marry him.

That is all. Happy Wednesday!

Welcome to the Nerd Herd

This week, I started a new hobby.

I now collect comic books.

I mean, I’ve been reading them for awhile. First, the graphic novels. My first one was actually Dave Gibbons’ The Originals in a British Novels class in college. Then Watchmen and V for Vendetta. And the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 8 comics. And other Joss Whedon spin-offs.

Now, I own some. My collecting began the beginning of this week, when Dr. Washick delivered the 26 issues of various Doctor Who storylines. One of his friends was getting rid of much of his comic book collection, and I purchased those. I have since ordered another shipment from an online comic book distributor out of Texas. And…

Today was Free Comic Book Day. I visited Borderlands and Richard’s Comics and Collectables, and I have added to my collection. Also, Richard’s is AMAZING. They have a subscription service, so I’ll be able to save money and guarantee that I get the newest issues of the comics I want. And…I bought a Lego Angel doll from there. It’s seriously awesome.

When I was paying at Richard’s, the two guys working and I started talking about Buffy. And when I confessed that I had just begun collecting comic books this week, one of them (who was wearing a costume) said, “Welcome to the Nerd Herd.”

Indeed.

Newness

An update, of sorts. I realized that I haven’t updated my blog in 16 days. I don’t know that I’ve ever gone that long without blogging since I began a year and a half ago. My apologies.

I’m sitting in Coffee Underground. I never come here, but Laura asked me to join her, so I did. Coincidentally, Michele and Stephen called from Atlanta, asking me if I could potentially meet up with Kevin to give him a ride. He was at Coffee Underground. I have probably now fulfilled by CU quota for a year. Or not.

I’m typing on my new MacBook, and wow, there was no transition to that idea at all. Here’s how that event went down:

All afternoon/evening yesterday, I tried to open MS Word to begin drafting two essays that I will workshop on Thursday in class. Word would open long enough for me to type half of the MLA header before freezing. That’s no way to write an essay, I tell. I tried to repair the installation, and it gave me an error message, telling me I was not authorized to use it with my username. I uninstalled and reinstalled and got the same message. I tried to repair again. Nothing.

I called Dad. I was frustrating. Crying, even. I knew I wouldn’t have decent access to a computer until tonight, when I planned to head to NGU to work from there. Then, Dad says, “Why don’t you just go buy a new computer?” First of all, the fact that I live in a culture where it’s that easy kind of baffles me. Second, I had been considering buying a new computer with my refund anyway.

I went through all the options: I wanted a Mac, but I was hesitate because I know next to nothing about how computers operate. I had done little research, and I actually planned on purchasing one later in the summer. Instead, I grabbed my hoodie and headed out into the rain, frustrated at my ancient HP laptop and wondering if I was crazy for going to look at Macs.

Do you have any idea how popular Macs are? I honestly didn’t realize how extreme the cool factor is. At Best Buy, no one was looking at PCs or netbooks. But people were crowded around the Mac table, testing out the iPhone and iPad and MacBook. And it was obvious that none of them were serious shoppers. They were merely blinded by the glitter and, dare I say it, sexiness of the Mac.

Finally, space cleared, and I stepped up to the MacBook. I clicked around a little bit, but I’ve used Macs enough now that I’m familiar enough not to need the basic tutorial. What I wanted was someone to answer my serious questions: warranty info, compatibility of MS Office, that sort of thing. A Best Buy worker was standing at the end of the table, though, answering inane questions about his iPhone from people who had no intention of purchasing last night.

Then, a guy stepped up and asked, “Anything I can help you with?” And that’s when I met Jake, the super cute and helpful Best Buy salesman. He showed me really awesome features, things I didn’t even know about, and convinced me then and there to buy the new 13.3″ MacBook Pro with iWorks and the Advanced Geek Squad warranty plan.

Sadly, the MacBook Pro just came out with a new model, and though Best Buy had only sold a few of them, there were none left in stock. So I decided on the regular ole white MacBook, which is all I wanted anyway. And I walked out, called my dad, and said, “I now own a Macbook.”

I’m a convert. Of course. I love this machine. And I’m searching for reasons to visit Best Buy now.

Check it out!

So I posted a blog about Jane Yolen’s Young Merlin trilogy, and her website found it! I’m now quoted on the page for each of the three books under such reviewers as Booklist and School Library Journal.

Here’s the info page for Merlin, the last book in the trilogy. Scroll to the bottom and note my awesomeness:

http://janeyolen.com/works/young-merlin-trilogy-merlin/

Then I emailed Ms. Yolen, and she responded! Yay!

Fasting from Facebook

Ash Wednesday is this week, and the day marks the first day of Lent for 2010. Last year, I celebrated Lent with an established community–we supported each other, encouraged each other, and had the best celebration I’ve ever had on Easter Sunday. For Lent last year, I gave up caffeine for the 40 day period, and the experience was really good. I was more focused and less dependent on caffeine to get me through the day. But more than just the physical fasting, I strove to give myself and my desires over to Christ, particularly the overwhelming desire that I have, as most single females to do, to be in a relationship. Those 40 days were a struggle. I never realized how much time I spend letting my mind wander…imagining how conversations could have gone differently, overanalyzing text messages and phone calls, asking “what if” questions that end up destroying my mindset. At the end of the Lent season, my heart had been transformed.

This is not to say that all is perfect. I still struggle often with those same issues. However, I’ve noticed a marked difference in the way that I perceive relationships. Less angst. More waiting. More hope.

This year, I’m approaching Lent in a slightly different way. The emotional fasting, if you will, will be the same. Can I surrender every aspect of my life to Christ? Can I surrender control? Can I spend my time in ways that reflect Christ’s glory? And can I encourage others in this same journey?

But the physical fasting will be different. I honestly don’t want to give up caffeine again. I know part of it is fear, but my life is so much more hectic now, and caffeine is often the best stimulant I have to get me through those superlong days. However, I will be giving up two things that are quite important to me: Facebook and Twitter.

I anticipate several outcomes of this. First, more time. For homework, for friends, for Jesus. Second, I expect that I’ll need to find alternate ways of communicating with people, of seeking community. The Twitter updates that are sent to my phone are often the way I keep up with friends who don’t live in my apartment, and that’s not good enough. Those updates will be turned off, and I’m deleting the Twitter number from my phone until after Easter. Facebook is even worse–I know so much about my friends’ lives because it pops up on a computer screen, not because I’ve talked to them. For 40 days, it will be a challenge to seek community. [Note: I will be checking in on Sundays. But just once for Facebook, and I don't plan on checking Twitter at all.] Third, I expect to blog and journal more. I use Twitter as a virtual scrapbook of things that happen in my life. If I go 40 days without sending a tweet, I’ll need a record of all that.

That’s my goal for the next seven weeks. If you need me, comment on my blog. Email me. Call me. Or–shocker–come see me! We’ll communicate the way the old folks do!

Reflection on a Snowy Afternoon

It’s snowing outside, and it’s beautiful. Generally, I loathe winter, but the temperature is only just below freezing, so I can tolerate being outside for short periods of time, and it’s pure snow. No ice or sleet or freezing rain. Just soft, beautiful, feathery snow. This is the kind of snowfall I can enjoy.

When I left work, the snow had begun to fall slowly. Driving home through the falling snow was wonderful, except I kept getting distracted watching the snow instead of the road. No worries. I made it home safely.

When I got home, I changed into warmer clothes and took off the recycling. While I unloaded cardboard and plastic into the bins, snow covered by purple coat and my braid and my car, and I realized it was beginning to stick. I then took the opportunity to stop by the Silver Chair just to browse books. There’s something about a snowy afternoon that makes me want to slow down and just relax. I had nothing important to do and nowhere I needed to be, so I spent about 45 minutes drinking coffee and browsing. I found quite a few treasures, as well. I bought a beautiful copy of Representative Men, a collection of essays by Emerson. I picked up and put down probably a dozen more books. I need to make time to shop there more often.

When I pulled into my driveway, my neighbors from apartment 39 were outside in the parking lot. Five-year-old Xander asked me to play, so we threw snowballs at each other while I chatted with his grandmother Angela. I stood outside in the falling snow for ten or fifteen minutes chatting with them. It’s lovely to start building community while the snow is falling around us.

Now, I’m sitting in my apartment, next to a lit Christmas tree decorated with snowflake ornaments. I enjoyed a cup of coffee and a bowl of chili, and I plan on doing nothing important this evening. Harvin just walked in, having cancelled her trip home. Maybe we’ll watch a movie or I’ll read a good book.

Perhaps snow days aren’t so bad after all.

A Most Lamentable Tragedy

Yesterday, a guy asked for my number.

Now, before you get excited, you should realize that this occurrence isn’t as uncommon as you might think. Granted, I don’t have a boyfriend and have never been on a date, but I have my share of admirers. They compliment me, seek me out, occasionally proclaim undying devotion, and offer gifts ranging from chocolate (sugar-free, of course) to flowers to dinner. One even offered to name his firstborn after me. All these guys are really after one thing, though: my prowess with a pen.

My editing skills, grammar knowledge, and sheer awesomeness seem to draw far more male admirers than female admirers. I know students who will refuse to visit anyone else in the writing center (a practice which I do not encourage). Granted, several of these guys have become genuine friends, and I never mind when they show up with their papers and stay for an hour. Others, however, are just frustrating in their devotion…or clinginess.

I suppose it’s a hazard of my job that I tend to get semi-hit on by teenagers looking to improve their English grades. I’ve become a pro at rebuffing their requests to help them edit their papers at times other than when I’m in the writing center (“Can I get our number in case I have a question later?” or “What if I need you, and you’re not in the writing center?”–yeah, I get those questions). It’s a shame that the only guys who’ve been asking for my number lately are about 6 years too young for me–and annoying.

The First Day of School

I got a call around 4:50 last Thursday from my admissions counselor at Gardner-Webb, asking if I was coming to class that evening.

“Have I been accepted?” I asked.

Yep. Sure had. The committee had approved my application just that afternoon, three days after classes started.

I registered the next morning for a World Lit class specializing in Caribbean Women’s Writing. I’m behind because I missed the first night of class, but my professor (who is also my advisor) told me not to worry about catching up. She’s been incredibly wonderful, and I’ve communicated with her many times now on the phone and in email trying to figure out what class to take and such.

I’m heading to Gardner-Webb tonight for my first class. It’s a long drive (aobut 50 miles from G-W to my apartment), but at least I only have to make the trip once a week. I’m already intimidated by the syllabus, but in a good way. We have three major projects: a 7-10 page lit review, a 15-20 page final project on a novel not covered in class, and a 5-7 page theory/definition paper on Caribbean writing. That’s a major step up from Converse, where my biggest project was an 8 page research paper with a 20-entry annotated bibliography. This is real grad school. Thank God I did this kind of work at NGU.

I’m excited, but a little anxious. The perfectionist in me is a little antsy at the reading load (lots of novels plus extra essays each week) and the projects. Also, G-W is apparently on the 8 point grading scale (where a 93-100 is an A), so what would qualify as an A (at NGU) or an A- (at Converse) would be a solid B. I don’t like B’s.

But…I’m excited by the reading list. I’m excited that I’m enrolled at a new school (in another state, even!). I’m excited by the challenge.

Also, I’m excited about my notebook. Last night, I covered an ordinary composition notebook with fun scrapbook paper and pictures from islands in the Caribbean. It’s pretty much awesome. My classmates will be jealous, and they’ll all want to be friends with me. I’m sure.

At any rate, I’ll find out tonight! Yay for the first day of school!