It shouldn't bother me. I know I should just be able to let this go. But, I still can't get over that Katie Couric somehow commands enough respect for this new gig of hers. She seems like a nice enough lady, I am very sure that she works damn hard at her current job. Still, is it possible that I am the only one who notices that she is actually a very poor interviewer {see previous Katie post}?
So, O.K., Katie's out. But, what's up with skipping right past Ann and Campbell to fill in for her. Meredith is coming out of nowhere. From The View of all places! Maybe someone owes her a favor. God knows she must be dying to work with someone other than Star Jones. And, speaking of Star Jones, the only redeeming thing about Rosie taking over for Meredith is the promise of seeing Star and Rosie interact.
C'mon... does anyone really think these two are going to get along. I have doubts that Rosie will be able to share focus with any of the other three women. When she had her own show she could barely share focus with her own guests [ala Katie Couric], but the demands of playing nice with these three "Viewers" should be quite a site. I say she and Star Jones have an all out physical smack down brawl within the first three months. If not, I see Star or Rosie quitting.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Please cancel Teachers!
Last week I made the mistake of watching the new sitcom "Teachers". I am surprised that they were able to come up with more than one script since it seemed that they used up all of the jokes to insult teachers in week one. There was nothing original about any of the jokes during this show. In fact, the dialogue was so played out that hearing the laugh track was like seeing a crayon streaking across a Picasso.
On the other hand, if you are interested in spending a half hour listening to teachers being negatively stereotyped as lazy, uninterested in student learning and generally inept, this is the show for you.
How is it possible that Arrested Development is cancelled and Teachers even airs for a second episode? I am so confused about some of the programming I am being faced with these days.
On the other hand, if you are interested in spending a half hour listening to teachers being negatively stereotyped as lazy, uninterested in student learning and generally inept, this is the show for you.
How is it possible that Arrested Development is cancelled and Teachers even airs for a second episode? I am so confused about some of the programming I am being faced with these days.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Starbucks is my office
I have been sitting in Starbucks for about five hours revising my dissertation. I didn't anticipate how hard this process would be. Rewriting this crap is tedious. And, worst of all, even when all of the revisions are complete I absolutely know that my committee members will find more things for me to revise. Ultimately, I know that the paper is better for having incorporated the feedback I've been given. Still, I just want to be finished.
I keep thinking how great it would be if my final defense could be an interpretive dance instead of a power point presentation. Who isn't sick and tired of seeing titles fly in with lame sound effects? I am thinking of replacing the default sound effects with sound bites from old shows like Sanford and Son. For instance, when I put the slide up that prompts my audience to ask me questions, the title will slide in along with Fred Sanford's voice saying, "What now dummy?". And, if anyone dares to challenge one of my findings, I can hit the "esc" key on my computer and it will prompt Fred's famous, "How 'bout 5 cross your mouth?" response.
Ok, ok, it's not a very scholarly approach. On the other hand, perhaps my committee will appreciate a break from the normally dry proceedings. And, my defense hearing will not be easily forgotten. Of course, I can probably forget about nominations for dissertation awards, unless the Rubber Chicken Award is now being presented at Penn.
Well, that's my brief rant. It served it's purpose of providing a mental break from revising my paper. Once I am out from under this pile of paper and statistics I will have more to say.
I keep thinking how great it would be if my final defense could be an interpretive dance instead of a power point presentation. Who isn't sick and tired of seeing titles fly in with lame sound effects? I am thinking of replacing the default sound effects with sound bites from old shows like Sanford and Son. For instance, when I put the slide up that prompts my audience to ask me questions, the title will slide in along with Fred Sanford's voice saying, "What now dummy?". And, if anyone dares to challenge one of my findings, I can hit the "esc" key on my computer and it will prompt Fred's famous, "How 'bout 5 cross your mouth?" response.
Ok, ok, it's not a very scholarly approach. On the other hand, perhaps my committee will appreciate a break from the normally dry proceedings. And, my defense hearing will not be easily forgotten. Of course, I can probably forget about nominations for dissertation awards, unless the Rubber Chicken Award is now being presented at Penn.
Well, that's my brief rant. It served it's purpose of providing a mental break from revising my paper. Once I am out from under this pile of paper and statistics I will have more to say.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Dick Cheney will kick your ass
By now, the recent [accidental] shooting of Harry Whittington is old news. Today, he was officially discharged from the hospital. If you are like me, you were dying to hear what he would have to say about the incident.
Since Vice President Dick Cheney was so contrite and accepting of all the blame, I figured that Mr. Whittington would be forgiving. What I didn't count on was an apology from the shooting victim. I know some of the shot hit his head, but why would he feel he needs to apologize to his shooter for "the trouble this caused Cheney". How about the trouble it caused you Harry?
Have you forgotten that you were SHOT IN THE FACE?
Clearly, Harry is afraid of Cheney. I suppose with all of the power and influence [and guns] that Cheney has access to, the safest tact is to apologize. After all, Cheney did complain that this has been "a long week" for him. I am sure that his handlers warned Mr. Whittington not to complicate Cheney's week any further.
Although it has not been confirmed by any reliable sources, rumors have it that Mr. Whittington has offered to walk Cheney's dog and hand over his lunch money for the next month and give him a ride to an undisclosed location to help ease his recovery from having to answer questions about shooting a 78 year old friend.
Since Vice President Dick Cheney was so contrite and accepting of all the blame, I figured that Mr. Whittington would be forgiving. What I didn't count on was an apology from the shooting victim. I know some of the shot hit his head, but why would he feel he needs to apologize to his shooter for "the trouble this caused Cheney". How about the trouble it caused you Harry?
Have you forgotten that you were SHOT IN THE FACE?
Clearly, Harry is afraid of Cheney. I suppose with all of the power and influence [and guns] that Cheney has access to, the safest tact is to apologize. After all, Cheney did complain that this has been "a long week" for him. I am sure that his handlers warned Mr. Whittington not to complicate Cheney's week any further.
Although it has not been confirmed by any reliable sources, rumors have it that Mr. Whittington has offered to walk Cheney's dog and hand over his lunch money for the next month and give him a ride to an undisclosed location to help ease his recovery from having to answer questions about shooting a 78 year old friend.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
What's in a Name?
A few days ago I learned the sex of the baby I am carrying. Yesterday, my brother called to offer a list of names that he and my other family members had come up with. This list of names included Gilbert, Bart, Mullivan, and Lee Harvey. While all of these names really sound good with the last name "Sullivan", I must say that "Mullivan" is my favorite. In fact, I have many memories of wishing that my parents had gone with thier first instinct for my name, "Smellangelo". When I was in middle school I would often write "Smellangelo Dell'Angelo" on the covers of my text books. Sometimes I thought that my adolescence would have been easier if I had a more interesting, rhyming name, like that one. So, part of me is really attracted to "Mullivan".
On the other hand, as someone who was named after someone famous [Tabitha from Bewitched], I also find myself thinking seriously about my brothers other suggestions. Of course, choosing "Gilbert" forces me to give the middle name "and" -- I am not particularly comfortable using an article for a name. However, Bart and Lee Harvey are very attractive options. "Lee Harvey Sullivan" -- I can only imagine what people will say. It really does sound distinguished -- like an author, and artist, or a skilled gunman.
Of course, the baby is not due until July, so we have plenty of time to entertain other options. Please feel free to make suggestions.
On the other hand, as someone who was named after someone famous [Tabitha from Bewitched], I also find myself thinking seriously about my brothers other suggestions. Of course, choosing "Gilbert" forces me to give the middle name "and" -- I am not particularly comfortable using an article for a name. However, Bart and Lee Harvey are very attractive options. "Lee Harvey Sullivan" -- I can only imagine what people will say. It really does sound distinguished -- like an author, and artist, or a skilled gunman.
Of course, the baby is not due until July, so we have plenty of time to entertain other options. Please feel free to make suggestions.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Shut up Katie Couric!
A few years ago I took a class on collecting qualitative data. These data are often used to write ethnographies or in other sociological research. These data include observations, interviews, etc. One of the first things I learned about interviewing was to carefully construct questions to allow the respondent the opportunity to provide as much detail as possible. For instance, you wouldn't ask, "Did you like your mother?", because the respondent could just say "yes" or "no" and then you don't have much information. Rather, you would say something like, "Describe your relationship with your mother." That kind of prompt may open the door to information you hadn't even anticipated -- really rich stuff that could make your study special.
I always imagined that this was the same kind of model that news reporters used for interviewing as well. However, I have noticed over the past few years that some of our [top] news personalities could use a bit of a refresher on how to interview. One particular person jumps out at me -- Katie Couric.
Katie apparently values her own opinions and insights a great deal more than those of the people she interviews. A sample question from Katie goes something like this:
"I would imagine that losing your daughter in such a violent way would be devastating. In other words, having your daughter taken away from you so abruptly must be very difficult, right?"
Although this isn't verbatim, it is awefully close to many Couric interviews. She almost always paraphrases how she thinks the respondent feels and then finishes with a "yes or no" question. Apparently, this is just to confirm the extent to which her own insights are correct.
In addition, she doesn't hesitate to throw in a personal anecdote even when the entire interview may only last 4 minutes. I suppose the American public just can't get enough of Katie, so she feels as a public service she should pre-empt Clint Eastwood, Conde Rice or anyone else to be sure that she provides her viewing audience with information about how she or her daughters feel about an issue.
And one last thing, her overuse of the word "meanwhile" has become an extreme pet peeve of mine. If you haven't noticed, tune in. I promise it will become like nails on a chalkboard in less than a week.
To be sure, I can watch something else. It is my own fault for subjecting myself to awful interviewing techniques, too much lower lid eyeliner and overuse of irrelevant vocabulary. However, I really like Al Roker. What's a girl to do?
I always imagined that this was the same kind of model that news reporters used for interviewing as well. However, I have noticed over the past few years that some of our [top] news personalities could use a bit of a refresher on how to interview. One particular person jumps out at me -- Katie Couric.
Katie apparently values her own opinions and insights a great deal more than those of the people she interviews. A sample question from Katie goes something like this:
"I would imagine that losing your daughter in such a violent way would be devastating. In other words, having your daughter taken away from you so abruptly must be very difficult, right?"
Although this isn't verbatim, it is awefully close to many Couric interviews. She almost always paraphrases how she thinks the respondent feels and then finishes with a "yes or no" question. Apparently, this is just to confirm the extent to which her own insights are correct.
In addition, she doesn't hesitate to throw in a personal anecdote even when the entire interview may only last 4 minutes. I suppose the American public just can't get enough of Katie, so she feels as a public service she should pre-empt Clint Eastwood, Conde Rice or anyone else to be sure that she provides her viewing audience with information about how she or her daughters feel about an issue.
And one last thing, her overuse of the word "meanwhile" has become an extreme pet peeve of mine. If you haven't noticed, tune in. I promise it will become like nails on a chalkboard in less than a week.
To be sure, I can watch something else. It is my own fault for subjecting myself to awful interviewing techniques, too much lower lid eyeliner and overuse of irrelevant vocabulary. However, I really like Al Roker. What's a girl to do?
Thursday, January 05, 2006
The Accidental Caller
I have many pet peeves. One of my pet peeves is when people ask questions to which they already know the answer. Tonight I heard someone's cell phone ringing. For some reason, they chose not to answer. Instead, a few minutes later they returned the call and immediately asked, "Did you just call me?". I will assume that the person on the other end of the line denied the call because his next statement was, "Really, because I just got a call from this number."
Oh, ok Einstein, then why the hell did you begin by asking the question if you already knew the answer?
This is particularly bothersome to me because I have been in the position where I accidentally dialed a number and just hung up when I realized it. Because of the damn oversensitive touchscreen on my overpriced phone, this happens often. And, because I refuse to clean up my contact list, I may easily dial an ex-boyfriend, former employee, former friend, or someone I plain old just don't even remember. I don't want any of these people calling me back and asking if I " just called them".
Clearly if I did, it was a grievous error on my part. And furthermore, if I wanted to speak with them I would have waiting until they answered or left a message. C'mon, if someone doesn't leave a message asking for a return call -- don't call them back. This seems obvious to me. I love it when people don't leave me messages. First, I don't like listening to long winded ridiculous small talk directed to a machine and second, if you don't leave a message I assume it is not important or that perhaps you dialed my number in error. If it is the latter, why would I choose to make you feel uncomfortable by calling back to ask you why you were calling? Or, if you were calling?
Oh, ok Einstein, then why the hell did you begin by asking the question if you already knew the answer?
This is particularly bothersome to me because I have been in the position where I accidentally dialed a number and just hung up when I realized it. Because of the damn oversensitive touchscreen on my overpriced phone, this happens often. And, because I refuse to clean up my contact list, I may easily dial an ex-boyfriend, former employee, former friend, or someone I plain old just don't even remember. I don't want any of these people calling me back and asking if I " just called them".
Clearly if I did, it was a grievous error on my part. And furthermore, if I wanted to speak with them I would have waiting until they answered or left a message. C'mon, if someone doesn't leave a message asking for a return call -- don't call them back. This seems obvious to me. I love it when people don't leave me messages. First, I don't like listening to long winded ridiculous small talk directed to a machine and second, if you don't leave a message I assume it is not important or that perhaps you dialed my number in error. If it is the latter, why would I choose to make you feel uncomfortable by calling back to ask you why you were calling? Or, if you were calling?
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
The Devil causes traffic jams...
Recently I drove from Pennsylvania to Florida and back. Three factors struck me as significant.
1. I-95 is the most uninteresting road ever built.
2. "South of the Border" is a shithole.
3. Radio stations are almost painful to listen to once you get south of Delaware.
First, driving I-95 is aweful. There is absolutely nothing to look at along the way. I was surprised that even the foilage doesn't seem to change along the way. So, when the flood of signs advertising "South of the Border" begin to appear it is appealing. However, the SOB folks are just preying on the boredom of those traveling this desolate highway.
I fell for it and pulled off. I was dreaming of nachos and guacamole. I was greeted by the biggest tourist trap I had ever encountered. There were giant replicas of sombreros, charicatures of Mexican people that the ACLU should definitely see, and establishments that looked like the Board of Health's "don't" list. I was back in my car within 5 mintues and actually looking forward to getting back on I-95.
The last painful variable for this drive was the radio programming. I learned a lot as I flipped through the stations. First, I was offered many different ways to incorporate Jesus into my life. I learned that "in order to make a difference, I have to be a little bit different". This reprise was sung as part of a song encouraging us to make Jesus a bigger part of our life. I also learned that everything that goes wrong in the world, is caused by the devil. Apparently, the devil is the cause of floods, fires, and the traffic jam that was plaguing Route 16 through Georgia on Saturday.
I wonder if I was more accepting of Jesus, I would have missed the traffic jam altogether. In fact, I imagine that I-95 would have become very beautiful and lined with blooming flowers, Rita's water ice every mile, and live bands. In fact, I bet that truly accepting Him into my life would cause South of the Border to completely disappear just like the house at the end of Poltergeist.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Not the hood
Earlier tonight I was picking up Chinese food in a local shopping center. As I walked toward the restaurant, I noticed a group of teenagers hanging out. This town is actually overrun with teens. Most of the girls are shockingly underdressed and the boys look and act like they are dangerous. However, this is a fairly affluent town, so I suspect that it is in fact "an act" -- just some teenage White boy hypermasculinity. Still, I don't want to be near them as it is unnerving.
On my way out of the restaurant I overheard one of the girls saying to one of the boys, "You're not in the f***ing hood, you're in f***ing Doylestown!". I couldn't help but thinking that was the smartest thing I have heard a teen in this town say.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed another one of the teens walking toward the group with a thick cardboard tray loaded with Starbucks coffee cups. Now I am sure "it's not the f***ing hood."
On my way out of the restaurant I overheard one of the girls saying to one of the boys, "You're not in the f***ing hood, you're in f***ing Doylestown!". I couldn't help but thinking that was the smartest thing I have heard a teen in this town say.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed another one of the teens walking toward the group with a thick cardboard tray loaded with Starbucks coffee cups. Now I am sure "it's not the f***ing hood."
Gettin' bigger...
Here it is at 11.2 weeks. Still don't feel anything, but it is definitely in there and getting bigger.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Be nice.
Be nice. It's the missing commandment. In fact, I feel like "be nice" could easily replace some of the other commandments. I mean c'mon, "I shall not kill"? -- that's so obvious. But apparently, being nice is not so obvious. And, if I can't get people to be nice to me, in my current condition of pregnancy, who can we expect to be nice?
Today, I called my ob/gyn office. Which is actually a midwifery. They have a reputation of being overwhelmingly nurturing. However, when I called I was greeted with an immediate snippy attitude. I began, "Hi, my name is Tabitha, I called yesterday..." and was cut off by Claire who responded, "yes, and it is only 9:08 so I haven't gotten to that yet."
I took a deep breath.
"Thanks for letting me finish my sentence Claire!", I thought. How could I have even known who, if anyone, got my message yesterday. And why the hell does Claire need to immediately get defensive?
She continues, "This is a small office and we usually...". At this point I am barely listening. Mostly, I am trying to contain myself from telling her how rude I think she is. But, I have to go back there and endure more open legged humilating appointments. So, it seems prudent to just suck it up.
As I hung up, I couldn't help but think that maybe I should look for another doctor. I hate being up here and away from the doctor who I know and have trusted for so long. Now I am stuck with the damn midwifery and Claire.
My next call was to my Human Resources department to find out information about maternity leave. The baby is due in mid July. I asked if I could still take the 12 weeks maternity leave beginning in September. The answer I recieved was spoken in a wimpering and sarcastic vioce and went a bit like this, "Well, typically faculty take six weeks and that would take you until September 1st. I suppose you could take the additional 12 if you feel you need 12 more weeks of bonding time."
As many of you know, I am not thrilled about the prospect of caring for an infant. I don't particularly think I need extended time to bond. But, since I now live a minimum of an hour away from anyone I would trust to help me out with the baby, it would be nice to not have to figure out who can care for a 6 week old baby while I go back to work. But, I suppose, even the mere suggestion is enough to send some people into a frenzy of meaness toward the person inquiring.
Don't these customer service gurus know that I am especially sensitive due to varying hormonal levels right now? At least the chic at the midwifery should know. Even if they don't know, remembering the simple rule, "Be Nice" would help to avert these unfortunate interactions.
Today, I called my ob/gyn office. Which is actually a midwifery. They have a reputation of being overwhelmingly nurturing. However, when I called I was greeted with an immediate snippy attitude. I began, "Hi, my name is Tabitha, I called yesterday..." and was cut off by Claire who responded, "yes, and it is only 9:08 so I haven't gotten to that yet."
I took a deep breath.
"Thanks for letting me finish my sentence Claire!", I thought. How could I have even known who, if anyone, got my message yesterday. And why the hell does Claire need to immediately get defensive?
She continues, "This is a small office and we usually...". At this point I am barely listening. Mostly, I am trying to contain myself from telling her how rude I think she is. But, I have to go back there and endure more open legged humilating appointments. So, it seems prudent to just suck it up.
As I hung up, I couldn't help but think that maybe I should look for another doctor. I hate being up here and away from the doctor who I know and have trusted for so long. Now I am stuck with the damn midwifery and Claire.
My next call was to my Human Resources department to find out information about maternity leave. The baby is due in mid July. I asked if I could still take the 12 weeks maternity leave beginning in September. The answer I recieved was spoken in a wimpering and sarcastic vioce and went a bit like this, "Well, typically faculty take six weeks and that would take you until September 1st. I suppose you could take the additional 12 if you feel you need 12 more weeks of bonding time."
As many of you know, I am not thrilled about the prospect of caring for an infant. I don't particularly think I need extended time to bond. But, since I now live a minimum of an hour away from anyone I would trust to help me out with the baby, it would be nice to not have to figure out who can care for a 6 week old baby while I go back to work. But, I suppose, even the mere suggestion is enough to send some people into a frenzy of meaness toward the person inquiring.
Don't these customer service gurus know that I am especially sensitive due to varying hormonal levels right now? At least the chic at the midwifery should know. Even if they don't know, remembering the simple rule, "Be Nice" would help to avert these unfortunate interactions.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
And then there were none...
For the last three days my office printer has been out of ink. Currently, my office has a very advanced system of keeping track of supplies. One woman in the office just orders large quantities of random supplies in the hopes it will meet the needs of our staff. It's not unlike hitting a pinata for office supplies.
Of course, three days ago when I discovered my black ink was empty and there were no replacements, I could have requested that ink be ordered. I didn't.
Today, I really needed to print something. I tried just printing in magenta, but, that didn't work. I looked through the pile of available printer ink for the 5th time -- no luck. I was desperate and came up with a plan.
I walked around the office and identified another printer that used the same type of ink cartridge. The person at that desk was out to lunch. I put my plan into action. It was easy -- I replaced my empty cartridge with her full cartridge and vice versa. I was back in business.
About an hour later I heard her complaining that she couldn't understand how her printer ink was out. She said that she had just replaced all four colors. Someone else suggested that perhaps her ink was stolen. I just couldn't stop laughing.
Of course, three days ago when I discovered my black ink was empty and there were no replacements, I could have requested that ink be ordered. I didn't.
Today, I really needed to print something. I tried just printing in magenta, but, that didn't work. I looked through the pile of available printer ink for the 5th time -- no luck. I was desperate and came up with a plan.
I walked around the office and identified another printer that used the same type of ink cartridge. The person at that desk was out to lunch. I put my plan into action. It was easy -- I replaced my empty cartridge with her full cartridge and vice versa. I was back in business.
About an hour later I heard her complaining that she couldn't understand how her printer ink was out. She said that she had just replaced all four colors. Someone else suggested that perhaps her ink was stolen. I just couldn't stop laughing.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Friday, November 25, 2005
Welcome to my Uterus
It's the big news -- the biggest in fact. It's the news that both begins and ends large parts of your life. There is a baby on the way. I wanted a baby. Quite frankly, I thought I would adopt a baby. But now, in my uterus is a growing little creature. At this moment it is less than an inch long, but has a heart beat of 143 beats per minute. So, this little tadpole seems to be doing alright.
Sometimes I am excited and sometimes I am terrified. I barely feel like I am different in any way right now, so I often find myself in disbelief or in the midst of making plans for the Summer. For instance, I still haven't told one of my colleagues who has staffed me to be in South Africa in July. I really want to go to South Africa to teach for a few weeks, but Steve doesn't think it would be safe to travel while I was so close to being due. I am due on July 11th. He's right, I know that. But still, I am hesitant to change anything about my current life or plans.
This week I will probably begin telling my friends. Some of you might just stumble upon this fabulous post. Either way, everything is going to change now. Hrumph! Oh man, this is going to take a little getting used to.
Either way, welcome to my uterus little creature.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Just another humiliation.
About three months ago I moved from the city that I love, to a distant suburb/rural area. At my new home, we have both a well and septic tank. I was initially a bit put off by the thought of having a septic tank. But, after speaking with a few people, I came to realize it wasn't really a big deal to have a giant tank of crap buried somewhere in your backyard. After all, in the city you are surrounded by crap. If you are lucky, you might even pass someone on the street who is taking a crap. And they don't even bother to take the time to bury it. So, a giant hidden tank wouldn't be so bad.
About a month after moving in, we had our first flood in the basement. It turned out that this flood was caused by the septic tank getting backed up. We called the septic tank gurus who pumped out the tank and all was well.
A week later, the flooding began again. We called the folks from the septic repair again and this time they snaked a camera through the pipe from the house to the crap tank to diagnose the problem. It turned out that the problem was that the pipe was clogged with "baby wipes". Mind you, I don't have a baby. But, I do have a very sensitive bottom. And, they are not baby wipes -- they are adult wipes! And, the package says they are safe for septic tanks -- thank you very much!
Regardless, I was humiliated as this was explained to my husband and noted on the bill. Yes, that's right, our two thousand dollar repair bill contained a notation about the baby wipes. This was all my fault. Me and my overly sensitive bottom. But, at least now it was fixed. And, with the assurance that this new repair would make using wipes acceptable again, I got back to wipin'.
Now, this morning, the day before Thanksgiving, the day before company is coming to stay for the weekend, it seems we have another back up. I mentioned to my husband that I was back on the wipes. I think he would have rather heard that I started smoking crack. The septic tank people are on thier way back out. No doubt they will shake their heads in disbelief as they clear another clog.
Can I help it if I am sensitive and extremely clean? Is it possible that I am way more regular than I realize? Either way, it seems clear that I am going to be scapegoated for this one too. Maybe I will be lucky and they will find one of my husband's shoes in there. Maybe I will go shove a shoe in there now.
About a month after moving in, we had our first flood in the basement. It turned out that this flood was caused by the septic tank getting backed up. We called the septic tank gurus who pumped out the tank and all was well.
A week later, the flooding began again. We called the folks from the septic repair again and this time they snaked a camera through the pipe from the house to the crap tank to diagnose the problem. It turned out that the problem was that the pipe was clogged with "baby wipes". Mind you, I don't have a baby. But, I do have a very sensitive bottom. And, they are not baby wipes -- they are adult wipes! And, the package says they are safe for septic tanks -- thank you very much!
Regardless, I was humiliated as this was explained to my husband and noted on the bill. Yes, that's right, our two thousand dollar repair bill contained a notation about the baby wipes. This was all my fault. Me and my overly sensitive bottom. But, at least now it was fixed. And, with the assurance that this new repair would make using wipes acceptable again, I got back to wipin'.
Now, this morning, the day before Thanksgiving, the day before company is coming to stay for the weekend, it seems we have another back up. I mentioned to my husband that I was back on the wipes. I think he would have rather heard that I started smoking crack. The septic tank people are on thier way back out. No doubt they will shake their heads in disbelief as they clear another clog.
Can I help it if I am sensitive and extremely clean? Is it possible that I am way more regular than I realize? Either way, it seems clear that I am going to be scapegoated for this one too. Maybe I will be lucky and they will find one of my husband's shoes in there. Maybe I will go shove a shoe in there now.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Faking it.
Yesterday, for no apparent reason, I tried to pretend I was an interior designer. I brought a photo into Michael's Arts and Crafts to be framed. For some reason, I found myself saying things to the framer like, "this person has a large bare wall where this will be hung". "This person"! ? What is that? Why would I say that?
But, I got this great reaction. "Oh, you're a designer!", the framer exclaimed. She was impressed by me. What could I say? "No, I am actually a college professor who studies education and psychology." Then I really look like I am missing a few screws.
I contemplated my options. I thought I could go at this full George Costanza force. I almost said my name was Art VanDelay. But, instead, I explained that I was not a designer, but just dropping something off to be framed for someone else. This was also a lie, but it seemed like the best compromise in the situation.
Then, for some reason, I mentioned it was a gift. Why? I am not sure? But, as the total for the framing approached $200 the framer couldn't help but notice what a generous gift giver I was. She said so, that I am very generous. Not wanting to be complemented on a complete lie, I added, "Well, I am going in with someone else."
Clearly, I have lost my mind.
But, I got this great reaction. "Oh, you're a designer!", the framer exclaimed. She was impressed by me. What could I say? "No, I am actually a college professor who studies education and psychology." Then I really look like I am missing a few screws.
I contemplated my options. I thought I could go at this full George Costanza force. I almost said my name was Art VanDelay. But, instead, I explained that I was not a designer, but just dropping something off to be framed for someone else. This was also a lie, but it seemed like the best compromise in the situation.
Then, for some reason, I mentioned it was a gift. Why? I am not sure? But, as the total for the framing approached $200 the framer couldn't help but notice what a generous gift giver I was. She said so, that I am very generous. Not wanting to be complemented on a complete lie, I added, "Well, I am going in with someone else."
Clearly, I have lost my mind.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Procrastination Station
I hesitate to admit that I am a procrastinator. This is actually a new hesitation. Actually, only a few years ago, I would admit it readily. It was the source of much self-depricating humor. But recently, there was some kind of article or TV special which painted procrastinators in a very bad light. I actually felt ashamed. My identity was rocked. I thought I was a procrastinator. But surely, I wasn't the low life, malcontent that was portrayed in this report. So, I have taken more time to decide who I am and how I fit into this world.
Now, I am faced with reinventing myself. Still, while I should be working on the results section of my dissertation, I am posting to a blog. However, I feel that this is something I need to do. Get it off my chest, allow others to relate to me and realize -- there is no shame in being a non-procrastinator who may or may not be putting off what should really be getting done. Ultimately, I don't think finding my identity can be put off any longer.
I don't feel badly for still having my pajamas on. It isn't even 10:00 a.m.. If it were noon, I would have a problem. But, at 10! Really, what could anyone say?
Now, I am faced with reinventing myself. Still, while I should be working on the results section of my dissertation, I am posting to a blog. However, I feel that this is something I need to do. Get it off my chest, allow others to relate to me and realize -- there is no shame in being a non-procrastinator who may or may not be putting off what should really be getting done. Ultimately, I don't think finding my identity can be put off any longer.
I don't feel badly for still having my pajamas on. It isn't even 10:00 a.m.. If it were noon, I would have a problem. But, at 10! Really, what could anyone say?
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