Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

From one female undergraduate to another as I walked by them:

“He’d be the perfect husband.  He’d never forget your birthday, buy you presents, and kiss you frequently.”

Erin

I think I should get myself a few of these:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=we9_CdNPuJg]

Given that we can’t do much about clueless students other than laugh, here are a few incredible anecdotes: http://philosophersanon.blogspot.com/2008/04/annual-bitch-about-grade-negotiation.html

My favourite:

I once had a student complain after having missed an exam that he didn’t *know* that the exam would be on the day he missed. I said, “the exam days are indicated on the syllabus.” He replied: “you never told us that we had to read the syllabus.”

Suppose the teacher had wasted his time and told the students that they had to read the syllabus. Could the student then get off the hook by saying that the teacher had never said that they needed to follow his instructions?

Sydney

Throughout the weekend I’ve been getting desperate emails from my students, who are finishing up their revisions before turning in their final papers to me on Monday.  Having just waded through my own revision work, I am tempted to send out an email telling them to give it up: at some point you do indeed start making it worse.  Interestingly enough, one part of the paper I just wrote concerned the revisions that Faulkner made to the stories that later comprised Go Down, Moses.  Only one critic in all of those I read thought he may not have improved his work by revising it.  Apparently we’re reluctant to see our efforts as wasted, and apparently critics are as susceptible to this as college students.

Erin

Well, after a major effort on Thursday, I felt a bit tuckered out on Friday.  Time at the gym, teaching, and a number of student conferences left me with nothing but a desire to sleep when I got home that afternoon.  And, of course, when I did allow myself a bit of a nap, I awoke only to feel very strongly that my body was punishing me for my major work day.

But this morning Sydney and I got up early (earlier than intended, thanks to a cat whose antics kept us up most of the already-short night) to go to the library book sale.  Though I can’t say either of us found lots of treasures in our main areas of interest, Sydney did clean up on gardening books.  Good thing, since we can’t afford to buy such large, heavy, glossy books new!  And, while he was away at school for a conference this afternoon, I finished and submitted my paper.  That’s now done.

Okay, time to read twelve books, sleep 20 hours . . . and get up early tomorrow. Possible, right?

Erin

Well, I stuck to my page-an-hour goal and threw down 17 pages of my paper yesterday: some pages very good, some very bad, and some thankful to be in the middle.  I will be taking my second (and final) look at that puppy this afternoon and evening before I will be required to send it off to my committee . . . and answer for it in my oral defense.  Good news: there was a good seven-page chunk or so that I think has really helped me to further my dissertation thoughts, and that I think my committee will be pleased to see.  May they forgive the rest.

Knowing I had to leave my paper half-finished to go teach this morning, I left early enough to fit in some time at the gym before class and student conferences.  I needed something besides sitting in a desk chair for two days, and I knew I wouldn’t do a lot of sleeping with my head full of paper thoughts.  And I really needed to wake up.  Well, this happened to be the morning that the gym didn’t post signs to alert members that they lacked both hot water and heat in the building.  I didn’t realize this until I turned the water on in the shower.   Awakening happened rapidly after that point.

Erin

Our house has been an interesting place as of late. Sydney and I have taken turns being bitten by the “outdoors” bug, usually when the other has a terribly pressing academic responsibility that requires one to be tied to a desk. Oh well, at least the windows help. Nice thing about a small house: you’re never far from the open door, open windows, or sight of the birds who keep up a beautiful racket all day long. The only place where you might escape such distractions and pleasures is the bathroom, which is too small to hold any sane person for long.

Sydney had a paper due at the end of March that made him crazy, with books and papers and unshaven man all over the place, gloom and doom written on his face. But now we’ve switched places. I am beginning my multi-part qualifying exams, the ones that get me a master’s degree and let me loose for the dissertation. And they’re a real pain. Try writing exams while still doing a heck of a lot of teaching and normal-everyday stuff. Most of my colleagues have dealt by burying themselves in a library for weeks on end. I can’t do that. I need to get a bit of time outside and at the gym for sanity’s sake and I can’t blow off my students just as they’re working up their final papers for my class (plus, throw in church, some reading groups, and two classes that I’m sitting in on and you can see how the time might just go).  But that means I’m having a hard time finding big chunks of time in which to stew over papers that aren’t magically sprouting from my fingertips (surprise, surprise, I know). After griping about this to Sydney, he has taken it upon himself to give me a hand. On Tuesday he cooked lunch and dinner for me as I hauled myself about the house, trying to make some sort of outline that would help me see the paper take shape. Well, it seemed by the end of the day that I hadn’t gotten anywhere, but I did see fruits the next day, as I walked around teaching and attending classes with paper thoughts filling my head. Of course, with an entire day away from my computer I felt as if I lost some of that momentum. So I fretted again that I would never be able to get it all together.  And once again Sydney came to my rescue, taking off my hands some errands that would keep me busy all morning, and promising to come home with lots and lots of fruit.  Bless that man.

The thing is, these exams are time-limited, so I am only allowed a day or two in which to write them.  And finding even a day or two of free time is quite a challenge!  Today and tomorrow are as free as any time, but I’ll still need to go in tomorrow to teach and hold conferences with my students.  But I’m hoping to work today for all I’m worth; I’m a few pages in after two hours and I can only hope I can keep up the momentum.

If I manage to haul myself through this ordeal, I will have another essay to prepare for and write in the next week or two. I guess I’ll find out whether I used all of my adrenalin up in college, or whether I can haul it out again for this ordeal. I say this, though, in a fairly sunny frame of mind. Writing these exams gets the ideas going and the connections I would never see if I were not under this kind of pressure. I just won’t think too hard about what it means that I have to be pushed to the end of my rope to produce interesting work . . .

Erin

This evening Sydney and I went out.  We met up after our classes, had dinner at Moosewood, the famous Ithaca vegetarian restaurant (and source for some great cookbooks!), and then attended a visiting company’s performance of The Tempest at our local theatre.  I can’t remember the last time we went out for such an evening, so this was a real treat.  Plus, The Tempest happens to be the one Shakespeare play Sydney has found time to read, and it is the one Shakespeare play I have taught, so we felt we needed to seize the opportunity.

Erin

I noticed some flowers that I didn’t recognize coming up in the woods the other day:

Anyone recognize what it is? I think I know by now, but confirmation never hurt anyone.

Sydney

Here’s what I’ve been working on for the last few days:

Notice the one lonely flat of peppers. With any luck, tomatoes and other things should be joining them soon.

Sydney