16 September 2008

Movidos Pela Paixão

I hate when this happens. Especially given Fiat's slogan.

"Moved by passion," indeed.

12 September 2008

Again With the Not Knowing What "Maybe" Means

Late last night, after teaching my evening class, I saw a headline on CNN.com that I attributed to the hour and my lack of presecription eyewear. This morning my sister emailed me same, with just one comment: "Um...."

I figured it was a passing moment of stupidity, because the headline was quickly updated. (Apparently "yIKEs! It's coming!" wasn't funny, though, because it was replaced almost immediately.) But just moments ago, NPR's very reputable (not to mention adorably charming and funny) Andrew Meyer just read the exact same headline off the wire.


Now, please note that I in no way fault Mr. Meyer for this atrocity. The instant he shut off his microphone, he probably looked across the newsroom and mouthed "....what?" through the plexiglass shield at the on-air host.

But seriously, people. It might bring certain death? As opposed to....what, uncertain death? Death that you're not really convinced has occurred?

I'll let Andrew off the hook, because his mom makes such excellent brownies, but CNN, I'm putting you on notice.

06 September 2008

Why I Practice Yoga

What happens next, apparently, is that Bookstore A notices an edition update in my Thursday night textbook. (You know, the class where until now nothing has exploded except the critical mass, since the dean apparently has--and excercises--the power to override class limits.) And fails to notify me, for whatever reason. I suspect it's because they think I didn't hand in my textbook request, a feat which mystifies me since they knew which textbook to update.

Anyway, usually a move from a tenth edition to an eleventh edition means something like "two of the photographs are different" or "we fixed the layout problem so that now page 345 comes between pages 344 and 346 instead of opposite page 19." So I wasn't too worried, expecting that I might have to update a reading or two, and definitely look up the alternate page numbers.

Yeah, fully three-quarters of my assigned readings aren't in there. Looks like I'll be rewriting two syllabi this weekend. Fortunately, with the effects of Tropical Storm Hanna blowing through today, it was a very good day to spend curled up on my bed reading, nestled up against a paranoid, one-eyed cat who thought this was a wonderful idea. Also fortunately, I like most of the new readings better, all things being equal.

Just not enough to have to do any more damn work on it.

05 September 2008

Sometimes All It Takes Is One Sentence

"After watching her speech last night, I've decided that Sarah Palin is Ann Coulter in a woman's body."

I just read this comment on a post over at Dooce (yeah, like she needs another link for more traffic, but what the hell, I like the woman) and immediately knew I had to link to this man's blog. I dunno, call me fickle but with a sense of humour like that, I had to take a chance on the guy.

Hi, Husband!

I Guess that Would Depend on Your Definition of the Word "Maybe"

I have admitted before that I am a news junkie. Sometimes in the course of perusing CNN, I click on news that is not local to me, if it has a headline that grabs me. I'm not sure why I clicked on this article, and the news it contains is a little demented. As is this quote, although probably not in the way the editor intended it:

“I know my heart was racing. I know my mom’s heart was racing,” said Linda Lerma, who received one of the calls. “They said it was fatal, which is telling me maybe somebody’s dead.”

....well, yeah. It just might mean that, Linda.

03 September 2008

Baby Got Back (to Back)

Oh yeah. And I managed to run two miles today, which is more than I've logged at any one time since I was mangled in the midst of a five-mile training run six months ago. Spent the next hour with my left leg encased in ice, but what the hell.

Giant Mongolian Clusterfrak: College A Strikes Again

NOTE: This is a continuation of the saga begun in this post

College A is going to be the death of me. Just sayin.

Two weekends ago I rewrote a syllabus for a class that turned out to be one of those late-start classes that's condensed into 14 weeks instead of the whole semester. Which I hadn't realized, so the syllabus was all wrong. Remember that? Yeah. So, last week, they cancelled it. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Five classes is way too many when you factor in the commute between colleges (at least an hour, one way, to each). I moved on.

This past weekend I had to rewrite a syllabus that I'd sent in a month ago because they finally got around to reading it and noticed that it didn't jibe with their critical updates. Part was my fault, because I left out that teensy little line on the schedule that says when the third paper was due, so they thought I only assigned three papers, when there are in fact four. Oooops. The other part was their fault, because they couldn't find something that was there. That class was scheduled to have started this past Tuesday evening.

Tuesday morning, as I was drinking my tea and getting ready for classes at both colleges, they called to cancel that class. And called back ten minutes later to offer me three other classes, two of which I couldn't take because of conflicts with College B, whose classes have already started. (And yes, since you asked, it was in fact the ENG210 that I accepted at the last minute that was the conflict. Behold the irony.) The third class was going to be at the same time as the class they'd just cancelled. And it was a class I've already taught a zillion times, and am teaching at another time this semester, and all was cool. I poured most of my now-cold tea out, leapt into some clothes, and fled to College B with my hair still in wild disarray, though I did put on lipstick while waiting at a railroad crossing.

There's more. Of course there's more.

Today I found out that I have to write an entirely new syllabus, because......this is a contract class with an outside company, offsite, and they've always used a different textbook. And they'd like to keep using it please. Fortunately, I already have a copy of this other textbook, because I now have to spend this, my third weekend in a row, writing a syllabus. For a class that isn't supposed to exist.

The class has seven students in it, which is wonderful. Because two drafts each of four papers is much less horrifying from seven students than it is from twenty-eight, which is the normal maximum enrollment.

Until I looked online and noticed that the registrar's office has opened enrollment for this class to the student population. And assigned critical mass as 28 instead of 10. Um, scuse me. And there are PEOPLE REGISTERING. Which means if they don't fix it soon, preferably closer to immediately and retroactively, I am going to have potentially 35 people who think they are in my class. I'm not really okay with this on oh, so many many levels.

And for this? For this I get paid the equivalent of four months' of health insurance payments. Or about two months' rent, were I to manage to escape the sucking vortex that seems to be my life at the moment.

I'd say to stick around for the conclusion, but I'm kind of afraid to find out, myself. So if you know what happens next, drop me a line. I'll be hiding under my desk.