I want a wife. Just like in Judy Brady's short essay/story, I want a wife, too.
I want a wife who will take the boys to the park on a beautiful, sunny 80 degree Saturday afternoon while I work on stringing together something that resembles a chapter in a dissertation.
I want a wife who will cook a healthy, balanced dinner because I'm too busy grading the last of my English Comp I students' papers.
I want a wife who will finish washing, folding, and putting away the laundry while I answer the 100+ emails sitting in my 'inbox.'
I want a wife who will clean up the living room and kitchen while I read and put together an assignment/lesson on Chapter 12's discussion on integrating visuals/images into documents for my tech writing class.
I want a wife who will put kiddos to bed and read them bedtime stories--and not run out of the room after 2 minutes--while I compile notes on The Wasteland for my Brit Lit class.
I want a wife who will shop for groceries--always using her coupons and driving around for the best deals--while I read and respond to students' rough drafts.
I want a wife who will drive little boys to pediatric physicians/neurologists/ psychiatrists while I finish reading and taking notes on another book on "autism as mercury poisoning/braindamage/a disaster."
I want a wife who will explain to my 11 year-old son for the 100th time why I don't have the emotional strength, physical endurance, and/or financial reserves for a pet. Even though, I understand that "every kid needs a dog."
I want a wife who will fill out the 25 page educational assessment forms for the upcoming ARD while I have student conferences.
I want a wife who will attend ARD meetings while I teach class and hold office hours.
I want a wife who will remind me when I step on the bathroom scale that--despite my 10 pound weight gain and bloated and pale complexion--I look great.
I want a wife who will keep the bank account balanced so that I can buy groceries/gas/hair spray without worrying about whether there is any cash in the account.
I want a wife who will tell the cashier at Wal-Mart to "suck it" when my [autistic] son starts singing the theme song to Thomas the Tank Engine at the top of his lungs and she yells back to "Be quiet!"
I want a wife who will explain to my officemate, Keith, that this is just a really rough semester/year for me and that I promise I am not usually this manic/tired/depressed/anxious.
I want a wife who will reassure me that I'm doing a great job at work/school/home even though I feel like everything is slipping slowly through the cracks.
Like Brady concludes at the end of her essay, with all the tasks that a wife does, who wouldn't want one?!?
Monday, May 11, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
What they don't tell you in the Autism books...
I posted this story a while back on one of my blogs, but I wanted to share it here for some of my mommy friends who have their own potty stories...
So, I wrote my research paper in Film as Rhetoric back in the fall of 2006 on the depiction of autism in movies as a temporal or transitory condition--a character device that imbues a sort of mystique to a particular character. I've seen probably about 10,000+ feature films and made-for-tv movies to date and each worse than the one before.
And, within each movie, the autistic character suddenly becomes not all that autistic by the third act of the movie. In one movie, Molly, an autistic woman is "cured" of her autism through a controversial, experimental brain surgery. In another, the autistic 4 year-old "snaps out" of his autism long enough to shoot the father who abandoned him 4 years before when his father tries to strangle his mother. (Yea. Tobey would probably be grabbing a gun, unlocking the safety, and shooting a man square in the heart.)
What they also don't show in the movies? That autistic children shove food in their mouths and are prone to choking. That they have zero sense of danger. And, that they are very difficult to potty train--something I have worked with Tobey on for many, many years. It's been slow going and we have to do "potty cheers" when Tobey poops in the toilet and not his underwear ("Poo poo in tha Pot'ay, Poo poo in tha Pot'ay..."--you get the jest).
So, one night about two years ago, as I was sitting at the computer enthralled in Ed White's Teaching and Assessing Writing and typing away, Tobey came into the living room, "poo poo in tha pot'ay!" I responded, "Great job," and went back to work.
He came back about 2 minutes later: "Poo poo in tha pot'ay!" I responded, "Yea, I know. Great job!!"
Tobey was still not satisifed. So, he went into the bathroom and came back a minute later: "Momma, poo poo in the po'tay!!" To get my attention this time, Tobey had reached into the toilet, pulled out the poop, and brought it to me in the living room to show me just exactly what he'd done. And, that he wanted me to sing the song.
So, I cheered for his wet poo dripping all over the floor. Then I washed his bottom. And, hands. And, went back to work. Yes, that is something they never show in the movies.
So, I wrote my research paper in Film as Rhetoric back in the fall of 2006 on the depiction of autism in movies as a temporal or transitory condition--a character device that imbues a sort of mystique to a particular character. I've seen probably about 10,000+ feature films and made-for-tv movies to date and each worse than the one before.
And, within each movie, the autistic character suddenly becomes not all that autistic by the third act of the movie. In one movie, Molly, an autistic woman is "cured" of her autism through a controversial, experimental brain surgery. In another, the autistic 4 year-old "snaps out" of his autism long enough to shoot the father who abandoned him 4 years before when his father tries to strangle his mother. (Yea. Tobey would probably be grabbing a gun, unlocking the safety, and shooting a man square in the heart.)
What they also don't show in the movies? That autistic children shove food in their mouths and are prone to choking. That they have zero sense of danger. And, that they are very difficult to potty train--something I have worked with Tobey on for many, many years. It's been slow going and we have to do "potty cheers" when Tobey poops in the toilet and not his underwear ("Poo poo in tha Pot'ay, Poo poo in tha Pot'ay..."--you get the jest).
So, one night about two years ago, as I was sitting at the computer enthralled in Ed White's Teaching and Assessing Writing and typing away, Tobey came into the living room, "poo poo in tha pot'ay!" I responded, "Great job," and went back to work.
He came back about 2 minutes later: "Poo poo in tha pot'ay!" I responded, "Yea, I know. Great job!!"
Tobey was still not satisifed. So, he went into the bathroom and came back a minute later: "Momma, poo poo in the po'tay!!" To get my attention this time, Tobey had reached into the toilet, pulled out the poop, and brought it to me in the living room to show me just exactly what he'd done. And, that he wanted me to sing the song.
So, I cheered for his wet poo dripping all over the floor. Then I washed his bottom. And, hands. And, went back to work. Yes, that is something they never show in the movies.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
PCA/ ACA Conference
Just got back from 'Nawlens after attending the PCA/ ACA conference w/ Marc. Couple thoughts that I've learned since attending PCA/ACA (Popular Culture of America/ American Culture Association):
- I love that my area of interest means I present on a panel with two papers on House. How freakin' awesome is that?!?
- There nothing better for my money than an entire panel on "Post-colonialism and Women's Liberation in the Appropriation of Homosexuality in Katy Perry's 'I Kissed a Girl.'"
- People take comic books VERY serious.
- Answer: A Tool. Question: What do we call you behind your back if you leave your ringer on, answer your cell when it goes off during a session, and then announce to the entire room that you've got to go?
- It's possible to write 6 different papers on the Saw franchise.
- Answer: A Tool. Question: What do we call you when you are too distracted texting to get your question out during the Q & A? (If you have a question, can you stop texting for 20 seconds before asking it? You look like jerk when you're too distracted by your cell phone to ask the question you raised your hand to ask.)
- All conferences should be held in really boring cities like DeMoine or Cincinatti. It's really hard to talk yourself into attending a panel in an overpriced and pretenious hotel when there are too many distractions outside.
- Just "winging it" isn't typically the best approach to a conference paper.
- A film clip and a powerpoint is just an excuse to watch television at a conference if there is no content to the presentation. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.
- You do not need to put your credientials on your boarding pass. Southwest Airlines does not care that you are "Ima Hogg, PhD."
- How can you, in good moral standing, rationalize charging $15 for a piece of french bread and 3 shrimp? [I'm looking at you, Bourbon Street.]
- It's quite obvious who the "working girls" and tourists are in 'Nawlens. I'm not saying, but I'm just saying.
- How can you not have tap water? A facet. A glass. Tap water.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Things Marc and I have argued about...
I'm moving most of my blog over from Myspace to this blog to archive some of the material before I take my Myspace site down. So, this was something that I posted a couple months ago:
________________
Well, I am--apparently--late to the 2003 book, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About by Mil Millington. It seems pretty cute and I've seen references to it just this past week on three separate occasions.
So, in an effort to avoid writing on the never ending hell that is my doctoral dissertation, I offer for your amusement:
Things My Boyfriend and I Have Argued About:
1. Conserving energy. (i.e., turning off the lights when you leave a room, closing the refrigerator door, turning off the water when brushing your teeth). Since I pay the electric bill each month, I'll let you guess who was nagging whom.
2. The over-use of the words "sanctimonious," "metadiscourse," and "retarded" in casual conversations. (I like to find ways to get $10 words--like "heretofore"--in everyday conversations. And, we had a huge knock down drag out over the Black Eye Pea's use of the word "retarded" in their song "Let's Get Retarded." Marc said the word was used in part of a larger discursive conversation; I disagreed. Strongly. For about 3 hours.)
3. Myspace Friend Lists. This one actually went on waaay too long on my part. Like 4 hours. Okay, more like 6. (He has an ex-friend of mine as a "friend" on his myspace. I want her deleted. He doesn't care--"It's myspace. Who gives a fuck?" I feel like it's a high school party and I'm the only one not invited.)
4. Ex-girlfriends. (He uninvited me to a wedding, after I drove 3 hours to get there, because his ex-girlfriend was attending.)
5. A Chiptole Burrito. (I was hungry. He wasn't. He implied I was weak. I turned into the Hulk to prove him wrong.)
6. Nacho Cheese, aka "The Nacho Cheese Fight." (I ordered a side of queso at Taco Bueno, which he confiscated when I went to the bathroom. I was furious. If he wanted queso, he could've ordered his own.)
7. A Slice of Cheesecake. (Instead of a birthday cake, he brought me a slice of cheesecake. Not even an entire cheesecake. And, it was 4 hours late. And, I don't like cheesecake.)
8. My Driving.
9. His Driving.
10. Grammar. (I was editing a paper of his. He was mad because I found some errors. Sue me.)
11. Whether he should stay up all night and sleep all day. (I write this knowing full well that it's 1:00 a.m. in the morning.)
12. Whether the boys should've had to walk home from school in the cold.
13. The use of the preposition "of" and "because" in a sentence. (We're nerds. That's what nerds do.)
14. Whether or not I actually had a migraine one night.
15. Whether or not he was being "ugly" to me about my migraine.
16. Five dollars. (It was my $5.00 He said that's "not money." I said that "it sure as hell is when it's my money.")
17. Whether we see more of "his" movies or "mine." (Exhibit A, B, and C: Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, The Dark Night.)
18. Whether ghosts exist or not. (Yea, not too proud of this one.)
19. The fact that I'm a great girlfriend. (During those times that he "forgets." Does he think his chicken breast cooks itself?)
20. Whether I'm really a feminist. (Because I cooked said chicken breast for him.)
21. Whether I would want clean clothes taken out of the dryer and put on top of dirty clothes or pt on the bed, aka "The Dryer Fight." ([cue sarcasm] Because it just makes complete sense to put clean, dry clothes on top of dirty, nasty, wet ones.) I'm not kidding here. We fought for 4 hours over whether I was saying he was "stupid" for putting clean clothes on top of the dirty ones. For the record, I wasn't saying he was stupid. Just careless. That's different.
22. A Burger King Whopper Junior. (It was Spain. I was hungry. (I'm noticing a pattern here.) Anyways, I was willing to pay $7.00 for a Whopper Junior. He told me to suck it up and eat the tapas. To quit being a baby and a pain in the ass. I told him to suck it. If I wanted a Whopper Junior, I make my own money. I'll sure as hell buy myself a Whopper Junior. He walked off and left me sitting alone (with my burger) on a street corner in Spain. But, he did come back. After 45 minutes.)
23. Whether I should be watching Pride and Prejudice/ Bridget Jones' Diary/ Sex and the City/ Arrested Development/ Scrubs for the 1000th time. Even if I can recite the dialogue. And, the plot never changes.
24. Why he isn't an organ donor. (Needless to say, this fight went on for several hours. He response: "Respect my decision." My retort: "I don't have to respect your decision. It's stupid. And, so what if I don't respect it. What are you going to do about it? Command that I respect it?")
25. The T.V. Remote. (He bought the t.v. I pay the cable. He keeps putting it on BET. I keep going back to HGTV.)
26. Whether he was being a dick. (He was. I got mad. Problem: We were driving back from Houston to Dallas. I pulled over at a Dairy Queen in the middle of nowhere and threatened to just "walk home" from here. I'm anything, if not, sensible.)
27. Who's the bigger pack-rat. (He is. Do we really need copies of student papers from 2003? Boxes of random wires/computer parts? And, if he disagrees, he can write his own flippin' blog.)
28. Arguments. (Who started them. Who's arguing and who's "just talking." Who's yelling and who's just "talking loud with inflection.")
29. Whether I roll my head when I roll my eyes. (which I do.)
30. Whether you can say "never" and "always" in a fight. (I say it's always a good idea to never say "never" in a fight.)
31. Whether psychology is complete bunk that applies to ALL human beings or just the Westerners that most Western psychologists have studied. (Do we really know that the stages of development are the same for the Amazon tribes that have never been exposed to modern civilizations? I say not. And, yes, we really did argue of this.)
32. Whether anime is just a glorified genre of "cartoon."
33. Whether the thermostat should be set at 73 or 78 degrees at night. (Heretofore, we are back at the beginning. See fight 1.)
34. Whether he should clip his toe nails in my bed. (Please note the first person possessive pronoun in "MY bed.")
35. Whether it's possible to or whether one should stop buying plants.
36. Whether my feet are cold or not.
And, for all of you who say that you NEVER fight with your sig other, you can suck it. Because, we're just practicing for the Big One. And, because we've tackled nacho cheese, his driving, and my cold feet, we'll be prepared to tackle anything.
________________
Well, I am--apparently--late to the 2003 book, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About by Mil Millington. It seems pretty cute and I've seen references to it just this past week on three separate occasions.
So, in an effort to avoid writing on the never ending hell that is my doctoral dissertation, I offer for your amusement:
Things My Boyfriend and I Have Argued About:
1. Conserving energy. (i.e., turning off the lights when you leave a room, closing the refrigerator door, turning off the water when brushing your teeth). Since I pay the electric bill each month, I'll let you guess who was nagging whom.
2. The over-use of the words "sanctimonious," "metadiscourse," and "retarded" in casual conversations. (I like to find ways to get $10 words--like "heretofore"--in everyday conversations. And, we had a huge knock down drag out over the Black Eye Pea's use of the word "retarded" in their song "Let's Get Retarded." Marc said the word was used in part of a larger discursive conversation; I disagreed. Strongly. For about 3 hours.)
3. Myspace Friend Lists. This one actually went on waaay too long on my part. Like 4 hours. Okay, more like 6. (He has an ex-friend of mine as a "friend" on his myspace. I want her deleted. He doesn't care--"It's myspace. Who gives a fuck?" I feel like it's a high school party and I'm the only one not invited.)
4. Ex-girlfriends. (He uninvited me to a wedding, after I drove 3 hours to get there, because his ex-girlfriend was attending.)
5. A Chiptole Burrito. (I was hungry. He wasn't. He implied I was weak. I turned into the Hulk to prove him wrong.)
6. Nacho Cheese, aka "The Nacho Cheese Fight." (I ordered a side of queso at Taco Bueno, which he confiscated when I went to the bathroom. I was furious. If he wanted queso, he could've ordered his own.)
7. A Slice of Cheesecake. (Instead of a birthday cake, he brought me a slice of cheesecake. Not even an entire cheesecake. And, it was 4 hours late. And, I don't like cheesecake.)
8. My Driving.
9. His Driving.
10. Grammar. (I was editing a paper of his. He was mad because I found some errors. Sue me.)
11. Whether he should stay up all night and sleep all day. (I write this knowing full well that it's 1:00 a.m. in the morning.)
12. Whether the boys should've had to walk home from school in the cold.
13. The use of the preposition "of" and "because" in a sentence. (We're nerds. That's what nerds do.)
14. Whether or not I actually had a migraine one night.
15. Whether or not he was being "ugly" to me about my migraine.
16. Five dollars. (It was my $5.00 He said that's "not money." I said that "it sure as hell is when it's my money.")
17. Whether we see more of "his" movies or "mine." (Exhibit A, B, and C: Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, The Dark Night.)
18. Whether ghosts exist or not. (Yea, not too proud of this one.)
19. The fact that I'm a great girlfriend. (During those times that he "forgets." Does he think his chicken breast cooks itself?)
20. Whether I'm really a feminist. (Because I cooked said chicken breast for him.)
21. Whether I would want clean clothes taken out of the dryer and put on top of dirty clothes or pt on the bed, aka "The Dryer Fight." ([cue sarcasm] Because it just makes complete sense to put clean, dry clothes on top of dirty, nasty, wet ones.) I'm not kidding here. We fought for 4 hours over whether I was saying he was "stupid" for putting clean clothes on top of the dirty ones. For the record, I wasn't saying he was stupid. Just careless. That's different.
22. A Burger King Whopper Junior. (It was Spain. I was hungry. (I'm noticing a pattern here.) Anyways, I was willing to pay $7.00 for a Whopper Junior. He told me to suck it up and eat the tapas. To quit being a baby and a pain in the ass. I told him to suck it. If I wanted a Whopper Junior, I make my own money. I'll sure as hell buy myself a Whopper Junior. He walked off and left me sitting alone (with my burger) on a street corner in Spain. But, he did come back. After 45 minutes.)
23. Whether I should be watching Pride and Prejudice/ Bridget Jones' Diary/ Sex and the City/ Arrested Development/ Scrubs for the 1000th time. Even if I can recite the dialogue. And, the plot never changes.
24. Why he isn't an organ donor. (Needless to say, this fight went on for several hours. He response: "Respect my decision." My retort: "I don't have to respect your decision. It's stupid. And, so what if I don't respect it. What are you going to do about it? Command that I respect it?")
25. The T.V. Remote. (He bought the t.v. I pay the cable. He keeps putting it on BET. I keep going back to HGTV.)
26. Whether he was being a dick. (He was. I got mad. Problem: We were driving back from Houston to Dallas. I pulled over at a Dairy Queen in the middle of nowhere and threatened to just "walk home" from here. I'm anything, if not, sensible.)
27. Who's the bigger pack-rat. (He is. Do we really need copies of student papers from 2003? Boxes of random wires/computer parts? And, if he disagrees, he can write his own flippin' blog.)
28. Arguments. (Who started them. Who's arguing and who's "just talking." Who's yelling and who's just "talking loud with inflection.")
29. Whether I roll my head when I roll my eyes. (which I do.)
30. Whether you can say "never" and "always" in a fight. (I say it's always a good idea to never say "never" in a fight.)
31. Whether psychology is complete bunk that applies to ALL human beings or just the Westerners that most Western psychologists have studied. (Do we really know that the stages of development are the same for the Amazon tribes that have never been exposed to modern civilizations? I say not. And, yes, we really did argue of this.)
32. Whether anime is just a glorified genre of "cartoon."
33. Whether the thermostat should be set at 73 or 78 degrees at night. (Heretofore, we are back at the beginning. See fight 1.)
34. Whether he should clip his toe nails in my bed. (Please note the first person possessive pronoun in "MY bed.")
35. Whether it's possible to or whether one should stop buying plants.
36. Whether my feet are cold or not.
And, for all of you who say that you NEVER fight with your sig other, you can suck it. Because, we're just practicing for the Big One. And, because we've tackled nacho cheese, his driving, and my cold feet, we'll be prepared to tackle anything.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
My Dissertation Schedule
Okay, Friends. I need help.
I'm presenting for you my schedule to get this dissertation done by the end of the Spring semester. So far, I have about 1/3 of Chapter 1 written and most of Chapters 3 and 4 completed. That's about 100 pages, so far. And, T has said that the 100 pages I've written so far is really good, solid stuff. So, I'm feeling pretty good about the (hopefully, minimum) revisions that will be required later.
However, I need timelines, deadlines, and schedules. I'm a bit type A, if you haven't ever noticed.
So, here is my schedule for the next four months:
Now -- End of January: Finish first 1/3 of Chapter 1 (almost there)
Feb 1 - 15: Finish 2nd third of Chapter 1
Feb 15 - 28: Finish final 3rd of Chapter 1
Mar 1 - 20: Finish up Chapters 3 and 4 (almost there)
Mar 21 - 31: Finish Chapter 2 (Methodology)
April 1 - 30: Write Chapter 5 (Conclusion (haven't started))
May 1st: Turn in complete dissertation to T (YEA!!)
(And, fingers crossed)
late May - early June: To committee members
late June: Defend!!
July 10th: Dissertation to Grad Office
August: GRADUATE
(Worst case scenario, I defend in August/September and graduate in December. Not the plan but wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.)
Now, what I need from YOU!! I need you to be my pain-in-my-ass. I need you to ask me every time you see me, notice I'm online, comment on my facebook, and run into my on campus: "How much have you written today?!?" I need you to hound me so that I begin to hate you and everyone who looks like you. That's your job. Forget your other jobs. Your new assignment is to help me get this done. Got it?
I'm presenting for you my schedule to get this dissertation done by the end of the Spring semester. So far, I have about 1/3 of Chapter 1 written and most of Chapters 3 and 4 completed. That's about 100 pages, so far. And, T has said that the 100 pages I've written so far is really good, solid stuff. So, I'm feeling pretty good about the (hopefully, minimum) revisions that will be required later.
However, I need timelines, deadlines, and schedules. I'm a bit type A, if you haven't ever noticed.
So, here is my schedule for the next four months:
Now -- End of January: Finish first 1/3 of Chapter 1 (almost there)
Feb 1 - 15: Finish 2nd third of Chapter 1
Feb 15 - 28: Finish final 3rd of Chapter 1
Mar 1 - 20: Finish up Chapters 3 and 4 (almost there)
Mar 21 - 31: Finish Chapter 2 (Methodology)
April 1 - 30: Write Chapter 5 (Conclusion (haven't started))
May 1st: Turn in complete dissertation to T (YEA!!)
(And, fingers crossed)
late May - early June: To committee members
late June: Defend!!
July 10th: Dissertation to Grad Office
August: GRADUATE
(Worst case scenario, I defend in August/September and graduate in December. Not the plan but wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.)
Now, what I need from YOU!! I need you to be my pain-in-my-ass. I need you to ask me every time you see me, notice I'm online, comment on my facebook, and run into my on campus: "How much have you written today?!?" I need you to hound me so that I begin to hate you and everyone who looks like you. That's your job. Forget your other jobs. Your new assignment is to help me get this done. Got it?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
My little snot...
My latest installment in Adventures in Autism...
So, last night before bed, I walk/stumble/crawl into the bathroom to find it completely covered in water. Water on the floor, on the toilet, on the laboratory. The water on the floor had to be at least a good 1/2 in high. I sighed, cleaned up the water, and went to sleep. I just couldn't manage to care in my exhaustion.
But, I woke up at 2 a.m. a bit cold so I stumbled over to the closet to get a blanket. Except that they were all wet. Apparently, Tobey tried to clean up the water in the bathroom with 4-5 bath towels. However, rather than putting the towels in the laundry room, he put them back into the closet. On top of my blankets. Soaking wet.
Whatever. I'm too tired to care. I turn up the heat and just go back to bed. Jet lag still sucks.
This morning, I wake up to get ready for work. Workout. Shower. Get lunches made and boys off to school. And, when I went into the bathroom to fix my hair and put some make up on, I pull open the laboratory drawer in the bathroom to find it completely flooded. My make up. Toothbrushes. Cotton swabs. Best of all, two small, plastic figurines of Wawa Woobzy floating in a 2 inch pool of water next to my eyeliner. The little snot turned my drawer into a swimming pool. Needless to say, Momma was not looking too cute this morning before stopping off at Walgreens.
[sighs and pounds head on the desk]
So, last night before bed, I walk/stumble/crawl into the bathroom to find it completely covered in water. Water on the floor, on the toilet, on the laboratory. The water on the floor had to be at least a good 1/2 in high. I sighed, cleaned up the water, and went to sleep. I just couldn't manage to care in my exhaustion.
But, I woke up at 2 a.m. a bit cold so I stumbled over to the closet to get a blanket. Except that they were all wet. Apparently, Tobey tried to clean up the water in the bathroom with 4-5 bath towels. However, rather than putting the towels in the laundry room, he put them back into the closet. On top of my blankets. Soaking wet.
Whatever. I'm too tired to care. I turn up the heat and just go back to bed. Jet lag still sucks.
This morning, I wake up to get ready for work. Workout. Shower. Get lunches made and boys off to school. And, when I went into the bathroom to fix my hair and put some make up on, I pull open the laboratory drawer in the bathroom to find it completely flooded. My make up. Toothbrushes. Cotton swabs. Best of all, two small, plastic figurines of Wawa Woobzy floating in a 2 inch pool of water next to my eyeliner. The little snot turned my drawer into a swimming pool. Needless to say, Momma was not looking too cute this morning before stopping off at Walgreens.
[sighs and pounds head on the desk]
Monday, January 19, 2009
New Year's Financial Resolutions...
Each new year, I tend to reassess my financial situation from the previous and for the current year. I've made LOTS of positive financial changes last year, and I'm excited and looking forward to the upcoming year. Most notably, my new job at NCTC has boosted more than just my checking account. I finally feel like the "grown up" that I am. Finally. I earn enough money that I can provide for my children all on my own and I'm paying off my debt steadily.
(And, just as nice as the financial reassurances, the job has also given me a much needed boost to my confidence. I feel good about what I'm teaching and the contributions I can make toward the college and my students. Last semester was a bit rough but I'm really excited about starting the spring semester, and I'm looking forward to what I can do for my students and the college.)
But, back to my finances... I probably should be more embarrassed about this, but I guess I'm not since I'm putting this out into the universe...
So, here's the cold, hard truth: Raising a family on your own while working on a Ph.D. is pretty much a financial nightmare. It's impossible to raise two small children on a GTA's monthly salary. At least, it's impossible without going into serious credit card and student loan debt. However, I make no appologies: Supplementing my meager GTA income with student loans, credit cards, and additional part-time adjuncting jobs made sure that the boys had health insurance, food to eat (even if it was sometimes just Totino's pizzas and pb & j sandwiches), and clothes on their backs (even if they often came from the resale store, much to my ex-husband's chagrine.)
I've charged on credit cards Alex's dental expenses, much needed groceries, back-to-school supplies, and the occasional winter coat at Old Navy. While I've driven a car with 200,000+ miles for the past 8 years and my boys haven't been able to do extra-curricular activities because we couldn't afford them, I must admit that I owed more than $14,000 in credit card debt in October. (In my defense, $8,000 of that debt was carried over from my divorce, which is another financial story. But, considering that I once owed $18,000 after my divorce, the fact that I paid it down so much is still quite an accomplishment.)
However, thanks to a small financial windfall here, an Earned Income Tax credit there, a whole lotta skimping and saving, and a new job w/ a "grown up" paycheck, I can say that by March 2009, I will have paid off more than $14,000 in credit card debt.
Here's the breakdown:
(And, just as nice as the financial reassurances, the job has also given me a much needed boost to my confidence. I feel good about what I'm teaching and the contributions I can make toward the college and my students. Last semester was a bit rough but I'm really excited about starting the spring semester, and I'm looking forward to what I can do for my students and the college.)
But, back to my finances... I probably should be more embarrassed about this, but I guess I'm not since I'm putting this out into the universe...
So, here's the cold, hard truth: Raising a family on your own while working on a Ph.D. is pretty much a financial nightmare. It's impossible to raise two small children on a GTA's monthly salary. At least, it's impossible without going into serious credit card and student loan debt. However, I make no appologies: Supplementing my meager GTA income with student loans, credit cards, and additional part-time adjuncting jobs made sure that the boys had health insurance, food to eat (even if it was sometimes just Totino's pizzas and pb & j sandwiches), and clothes on their backs (even if they often came from the resale store, much to my ex-husband's chagrine.)
I've charged on credit cards Alex's dental expenses, much needed groceries, back-to-school supplies, and the occasional winter coat at Old Navy. While I've driven a car with 200,000+ miles for the past 8 years and my boys haven't been able to do extra-curricular activities because we couldn't afford them, I must admit that I owed more than $14,000 in credit card debt in October. (In my defense, $8,000 of that debt was carried over from my divorce, which is another financial story. But, considering that I once owed $18,000 after my divorce, the fact that I paid it down so much is still quite an accomplishment.)
However, thanks to a small financial windfall here, an Earned Income Tax credit there, a whole lotta skimping and saving, and a new job w/ a "grown up" paycheck, I can say that by March 2009, I will have paid off more than $14,000 in credit card debt.
Here's the breakdown:
- As of 10/1/08, total outstanding credit card debt: $14,179
- As of 12/1/08, total outstanding credit card debt: $6,179
- As of 1/21/09, total outstanding credit card debt: $3,436
- As of 3/01/09, total outstanding credit card debt: $0
Monday, December 29, 2008
Back to blogging...
I haven't been on this blog in about a year, but Chris has inspired me to start blogging, again. I've been putting most of my generative discursive abilities into writing on the dissertation or I'd blog on myspace. But, since I've all put abandoned myspace and facebook doesn't seem the "appropriate" place for blogging, I've decided to come back here and start writing/updating again. I do like some of the little stories and tidbits that I've posted on myspace, so I think I'm going to post them again here from time-to-time for achival purposes if anything.
This blog was once private; however, I've decided to open it up since I'm pretty far ahead on the dissertation, and I don't think there's any intellectual property here that needs protecting. And, if anyone did try to pirate any of my ideas, I think they'd probably be in a world of hurt anyways. Suckers...
It's interesting to see how optimistic and over-zealous I was with the dissertation this time last year. I've been writing for a year now on it and my scope has narrowed down significantly, and my writing processes are much slower than I anticipated they would be. However, T is happy with what I've done so far and I'm feeling really optimistic that I can finish everything by August.
So, here I am. Back to blogging. Back in the cyber-universe of online publishing. For what it's worth.
This blog was once private; however, I've decided to open it up since I'm pretty far ahead on the dissertation, and I don't think there's any intellectual property here that needs protecting. And, if anyone did try to pirate any of my ideas, I think they'd probably be in a world of hurt anyways. Suckers...
It's interesting to see how optimistic and over-zealous I was with the dissertation this time last year. I've been writing for a year now on it and my scope has narrowed down significantly, and my writing processes are much slower than I anticipated they would be. However, T is happy with what I've done so far and I'm feeling really optimistic that I can finish everything by August.
So, here I am. Back to blogging. Back in the cyber-universe of online publishing. For what it's worth.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Crystal Children
I'm working on the section in my dissertation on Idigo/Crystal children, so here's some notes that I've gotten from:
Virtue, Dorren. The Crystal Children: A Guide to the Newest Generation of Psychic and Sensitive Children. Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, Inc., 2003.
(Bar none, one of the most ridiculous books ev-er)
"new 'breed' of kids who are rapidly populating our planet"--"Indigo Children" who will "point to where humanity is headed...and it's in a positive direction!" (1).
Indigo children (ages 7-25) are "highly sensitive and psychic" (Virtue 1). They have "a warrior spirit" (sic) and Indigo children are "here to quash governmental, educational, and legal systems that lack integrity" (Virtue 2). They are often misdiagnosed as ADD or ADHD because they are often misunderstood by adults that value conformity and resist change (Virtue 2). Indigo children's auras or "third eye chakras" are "indigo blue" so that they are clairvoyant and have the ability to see energy, spirits, and visions (Virtue 3).
Ingido Children posses the ability to "sniff out dishonesty" and they recognize instantly when they are lied to, patronized, or manipulated (Virtue 6). They are unable to conform to dysfunctional situations at work, home, and school because of their warrior spirits, which leaves many adults feeling threatened (6).
Crystal Children on the contrary are much more even-tempered, forgiving, and easy going (Virtue 2). They have "beautiful, multicolored, opalescent auras, in paste hues like a quartz crystal's prism effect" (3). Crystal Children were born after 1995, have large, piercing eyes, magnetic personalities, are affectionate, start talking later than other children, are musically orientated, are telepathic, are highly sensetive and empathetic, are connected to animals and nature, possess healing qualities, discuss angels, spirit guides, and past-life memories, are artistic, and explore their surroundings fearlessly with no sense of danger (Virtue 3-4).
Crystal Children existed before 1995; however, they served as scouts to "check out the situation and report home during dreamtime transmissions" (Virtue 5). After 1995, many more Crystal Children were born and "each year's crop of freshly born Crystal Children reveals increasingly profound spiritual abilities" (Virtue 6).
Crystal Children's spiritual abilities are also misunderstood. Since they communicate telepathically ("mind-to-mind") with the world around them, they often do not begin to speak until they are much other than other children, usually around three or four. However, Crystal Children are often "judged by medical and educational professionals to have 'abnormal' speaking patterns. It's no coincidence that as greater numbers of Crystals are being born, the number of diagnoses for autism is at a record high" (Virtue 7-8). Virtue argues that the "diagnostic criteria for autism is quite clear: The autistic person lives in his or her own world and is disconnected from other people. The autistic peson doesn't talk because of an indifference to communicating with others" (Virtue 8).
Virtue believes that Crystal Children are misdiagnosed with autism and demonstrate very different behaviors. Unlike autistic children who are "disconnected" from and indifferent to the world, Crystal Children are "among the most connected, communicative, caring, and cuddly of any generation" (8). Crystal Children are also enormously "philosophical and spiritually gifted" and possess an "unprecedented level of kindness and sensitivity" (Virtue 8). Crystal Children are misdiagnosed and do not "warrant a label of autism. They aren't autistic--they're awe-tistic!" (Virtue 9). Crystal Children are "worthy of awe, not labels of dysfunction" (9). Virtue notes, "Crystal Children are very empathetic, connected, and loving with other people. Truly autistic kids exhibit no sense of connection at all with the outside world" (47). [Throughout Virtue's book, she compares Crystal Children with autistic children and identifies how awful autism is and how disconnected and unemotional autistic children in comparison to Crystal Children.]
Crystal Children possess "an authoritative air about them, as if they're wise adults in little bodies. Even more, they seem like seasoned sages...little sorcerers and high-priestesses" (Virtue 21).
Crystal Children are often diagnosed with autism because they do not communicate in verbal or written discourse until late in childhood (Virtue 32); however, "[d]oes speaking or reading later than expected warrant such a serious diagnosis? Why not call these sensitive children "late-talkers" instead of pathologizing them with psychiatric diagnoses and making them feel ashamed of themselves?" (Virtue 33).
Crystal Children are also diagnosed with autism because they often go into trances and because they have no sense of danger. However, Virtue argues that these Crystal Children are not autistic but are "channeling or receiving information" from forces that we cannot know or perceive. Crystal Children, like autistic children, are very sensitive to external stimuli like loud noise, crowds, temperature, clutter/disorganization, chaos, and artificial ingredients and chemicals (Virtue 56-8).
Virtue, Dorren. The Crystal Children: A Guide to the Newest Generation of Psychic and Sensitive Children. Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, Inc., 2003.
(Bar none, one of the most ridiculous books ev-er)
"new 'breed' of kids who are rapidly populating our planet"--"Indigo Children" who will "point to where humanity is headed...and it's in a positive direction!" (1).
Indigo children (ages 7-25) are "highly sensitive and psychic" (Virtue 1). They have "a warrior spirit" (sic) and Indigo children are "here to quash governmental, educational, and legal systems that lack integrity" (Virtue 2). They are often misdiagnosed as ADD or ADHD because they are often misunderstood by adults that value conformity and resist change (Virtue 2). Indigo children's auras or "third eye chakras" are "indigo blue" so that they are clairvoyant and have the ability to see energy, spirits, and visions (Virtue 3).
Ingido Children posses the ability to "sniff out dishonesty" and they recognize instantly when they are lied to, patronized, or manipulated (Virtue 6). They are unable to conform to dysfunctional situations at work, home, and school because of their warrior spirits, which leaves many adults feeling threatened (6).
Crystal Children on the contrary are much more even-tempered, forgiving, and easy going (Virtue 2). They have "beautiful, multicolored, opalescent auras, in paste hues like a quartz crystal's prism effect" (3). Crystal Children were born after 1995, have large, piercing eyes, magnetic personalities, are affectionate, start talking later than other children, are musically orientated, are telepathic, are highly sensetive and empathetic, are connected to animals and nature, possess healing qualities, discuss angels, spirit guides, and past-life memories, are artistic, and explore their surroundings fearlessly with no sense of danger (Virtue 3-4).
Crystal Children existed before 1995; however, they served as scouts to "check out the situation and report home during dreamtime transmissions" (Virtue 5). After 1995, many more Crystal Children were born and "each year's crop of freshly born Crystal Children reveals increasingly profound spiritual abilities" (Virtue 6).
Crystal Children's spiritual abilities are also misunderstood. Since they communicate telepathically ("mind-to-mind") with the world around them, they often do not begin to speak until they are much other than other children, usually around three or four. However, Crystal Children are often "judged by medical and educational professionals to have 'abnormal' speaking patterns. It's no coincidence that as greater numbers of Crystals are being born, the number of diagnoses for autism is at a record high" (Virtue 7-8). Virtue argues that the "diagnostic criteria for autism is quite clear: The autistic person lives in his or her own world and is disconnected from other people. The autistic peson doesn't talk because of an indifference to communicating with others" (Virtue 8).
Virtue believes that Crystal Children are misdiagnosed with autism and demonstrate very different behaviors. Unlike autistic children who are "disconnected" from and indifferent to the world, Crystal Children are "among the most connected, communicative, caring, and cuddly of any generation" (8). Crystal Children are also enormously "philosophical and spiritually gifted" and possess an "unprecedented level of kindness and sensitivity" (Virtue 8). Crystal Children are misdiagnosed and do not "warrant a label of autism. They aren't autistic--they're awe-tistic!" (Virtue 9). Crystal Children are "worthy of awe, not labels of dysfunction" (9). Virtue notes, "Crystal Children are very empathetic, connected, and loving with other people. Truly autistic kids exhibit no sense of connection at all with the outside world" (47). [Throughout Virtue's book, she compares Crystal Children with autistic children and identifies how awful autism is and how disconnected and unemotional autistic children in comparison to Crystal Children.]
Crystal Children possess "an authoritative air about them, as if they're wise adults in little bodies. Even more, they seem like seasoned sages...little sorcerers and high-priestesses" (Virtue 21).
Crystal Children are often diagnosed with autism because they do not communicate in verbal or written discourse until late in childhood (Virtue 32); however, "[d]oes speaking or reading later than expected warrant such a serious diagnosis? Why not call these sensitive children "late-talkers" instead of pathologizing them with psychiatric diagnoses and making them feel ashamed of themselves?" (Virtue 33).
Crystal Children are also diagnosed with autism because they often go into trances and because they have no sense of danger. However, Virtue argues that these Crystal Children are not autistic but are "channeling or receiving information" from forces that we cannot know or perceive. Crystal Children, like autistic children, are very sensitive to external stimuli like loud noise, crowds, temperature, clutter/disorganization, chaos, and artificial ingredients and chemicals (Virtue 56-8).
Yule Tide Cheers
I was telling my friend Brandon on his blog about Bartleby/Brandon the Scribner that I've been feeling very "Kafka-esque." I've been doing fairly well academically and professionally. I'm caught up on all of my grading in my four classes, I think my students actually learned something this semester (well, those who showed up), and I'm moving right along on my dissertation (Chapter 4 is at 30 pages and I should have it completed by the end of the month).
Still, I can't shake this nagging feeling that I'm a complete and total failure. I leave class questioning everything I said. I think all my students hate me (which some of them probably really do). And, well, my dissertation is a whole lotta damn work.Am I just ready for the holidays? Feeling overwhelmed and overweight? Or, am I just going through a funk?
Here's what I do know though:
1. That the lady at Weight Watchers last week who whispered with scorn and judgment that I've "gained a couple pounds" can just suck it.
2. That my student who stormed out during class after receiving his Dismal grade on his dismal major rearch paper can just suck it.
3. That my boyfriend, who's been a royal pain in the ass while trying to get his paper written for Visual Rhetoric, can just suck it.
4. That the frozen cookie dough in my freezer that is tempting me at every juncture can just suck it.
5. That my student in the Spain class who did nothing all semester for her group project and then emailed me a nasty message when I reported her inepititude can just suck it.
6. That the Christmas shoppers who fight over the parking spot 10 feet closer to the mall entrance can just suck it.
7. And, that Long John Silvers--and all it's yummy, greasy, crispy goodness--can just suck it.
Bah humbug.
Still, I can't shake this nagging feeling that I'm a complete and total failure. I leave class questioning everything I said. I think all my students hate me (which some of them probably really do). And, well, my dissertation is a whole lotta damn work.Am I just ready for the holidays? Feeling overwhelmed and overweight? Or, am I just going through a funk?
Here's what I do know though:
1. That the lady at Weight Watchers last week who whispered with scorn and judgment that I've "gained a couple pounds" can just suck it.
2. That my student who stormed out during class after receiving his Dismal grade on his dismal major rearch paper can just suck it.
3. That my boyfriend, who's been a royal pain in the ass while trying to get his paper written for Visual Rhetoric, can just suck it.
4. That the frozen cookie dough in my freezer that is tempting me at every juncture can just suck it.
5. That my student in the Spain class who did nothing all semester for her group project and then emailed me a nasty message when I reported her inepititude can just suck it.
6. That the Christmas shoppers who fight over the parking spot 10 feet closer to the mall entrance can just suck it.
7. And, that Long John Silvers--and all it's yummy, greasy, crispy goodness--can just suck it.
Bah humbug.
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