Spike

When Luke and I moved in together in the spring of 2002, my mother offered to buy us a house warming gift. Instead of a bath mat or towels, Luke and I decided to bring home our first pet. The three of us went to Bird Crazy, the queer friendly, owned, and operated speciality bird store that most of my families feathered friends have come from. They sell only the birds they breed and help to rescue abandoned and no-longer-desired pets. After playing in the store for a good long while we decided on the bird for us: a baby spoon-fed cinnamon cockatiel.

I've lived with birds (and cats) for almost my whole life. For those who have never been exposed to birds, they are friendly, intelligent, quirky little creatures who really develop distinct personalities. We got a bird we figured was probably a male (it's hard to tell by coloring until they've hit puberty) and after three days, settled on "Spike" for his name (Turbo and Killer were also in the running). However, much like Dude (the grey cockatiel who we were sure was a male - until she started laying eggs) and Fred (my father's very confused bisexual female cockatoo), we realized within a couple of months that our baby boy bird was actually a baby girl bird. The major difference in tiels is that the males make much more noise and are more easily able to mimic sounds, so having a quiet female actually worked much better for apt living.

Spike was a picky bird. She wasn't nearly as adventurous with food as my other tiels, but she adored peas and popcorn. On the whole she preferred men to women, loved chewing on glasses, and found the true love of her life in Luke. She rarely screeched, frequently cuddled, and was never happier than when she was able to liberate a tension-held ball from someone's piercing.

Spike journeyed with us from San Diego to Glendale and Pasadena. In our big move to Santa Cruz we decided to leave her temporarily with my father and his wife, while we adjusted to grad school and new schedules. We were trying to figure out a time this summer when we could drive down to San Diego and bring her home to Santa Cruz, when I got the call from my father that they found her ill in the cage this morning. She passed while they were on the phone with the vet.

I'm more upset about Spike dying than I thought I would be. By now, we've all had pets and we've all had pets die on us - even if it's just the godlfish you won at the local fair. But Spike was Luke's and my first pet together. Luke never lived with birds and since having one in our home he's become a real bird lover. She was very much a part of our family - a very missed part that we were hoping to bring back home. She died fairly young for a tiel, I just hope she had a good life and knew how much she was loved.

Wonder Jews Uni.... oh, man, that hurt...

I fucked up my left wrist. It's been weak since an overanxious knitting rampage back in the fall of '05, and I did something to it while typing like a mad woman in the last week and now I can barely type this. As a historian who takes all of her notes on her laptop, not being able to type is like walking by a bakery the morning you started your diet. Or for my lactose troubled readers, going to a cheese fondue party...

enough, I need to stop. I keep going and it just hurts. Kungfu and Knotty may get typed notes this week.

Between Tweak and myself, we win for totally stupid injuries.

Argh.

What I did over Spring Break

We went to see the Weaners at Ano Nuevo (almost 1,000)!



Visited the snow leopards at the San Francisco Zoo


Took my in-laws to San Francisco


Planted our garden (3 tomato, 6 jalepeno, 6 green pepper, 6 peas, shallots, cilantro, and basil)


And hiked 10 miles round trip to see beautiful waterfall.

Here I go

In addition to "grammar nazi" I've got to start calling kungfuramone, magic8ball.

You see, back in Jan? Feb? Maybe it was even Nov, kungfu turned to me and said, "I think you're an Irish historian." Having taken only one class on British history, and nothing specifically on Ireland, I skoffed at his remark, rolled my eyes, and went back to pounding through German's dative, genitive, accusative, nominative, der-die-das-dem-den-des cases. Because of the whole public access bit of the interwebs, I've been hesitant to blog about my increasing frustrations with the awful german language and my slow academic distancing from the German history I thought I would be writing. All the while I've had a wonderful (and frustrating, hey, it is academics...) time with my Whiteboys research project. I'm fascinated by scars and markings as the visible trace of the violent intersection be ween two bodies, and it looks like I may have a research "in" into the penal system in 18th century Ireland. Doing work on the penal system and markings on the body would give me: 1) the visual culture I like so much 2) a research topic with room to bring in some cool theoretical works 3) a topic it so far looks like no one has done, and 4) work in English! (some French, but that's fine). Regardless, I've been hesitant to make a quick decision, and so have taken this quarter to talk to everyone I know under the sun for their input, and dwell on the idea of switching countries and centuries.

Yesterday I spoke with my (ex)advisor. He not only was fine with the switch but thought it was a wonderful idea. (20th century German Jewish history is what we call in the biz: oversaturated). So, a few more pieces of paper work, and it's done. I'm not exactly going to be an "Irish historian" (too specific), but will be a historian of the British Isles (see, not Britain-centric, recognizes the isles separately, gives me more room to work with), in the late 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. We're going to try to reposition the Isles w/in a larger European context, specifically by looking at the Catholic connections between Scotland, France, and Ireland, and just see what I can make of it. I'll be able to approach the 20th century German stuff through my minor in modern Jewish history, which will give me the 19th/20th century background and teaching material for most of Europe as well as religion in modern world history.

So good-bye (at least for the time being):

and hello:

I can see the light

I'm nearly done with this quarter. I have to clean up my MA biblio (scheduled to be done in the 3 hour exam I will proctor at 8am tomorrow), grade 40 finals, write evals, and then I'm finished. The end to this quarter hasn't been the frantic push that my other quarters have been, but I feel pretty much fried. I have things I should probably be doing this afternoon (straightening the house, sewing pillowcases for my MIL (late xmas gift), other stuff I can't really think of right now...) but I'm not doing any of it. I did some work on my thesis this morning, re-edited Tweak's paper on Rousseau vs. the American Founders, and then picked up free herb seeds at the Affiliates. After that, I went to Hart's and finally picked up the fabrics I will need to make a "Garden of Eden" quilt block (jungle, snake, apple, sky). I think I'm going to the gym around 5:45, but until then I'm going to put on the TV, knit, and vege.

Tattoo

I dream a lot at the end of the quarter. It must have something to do with stress.

In my latest dream Luke and I were talking about the possibility of me getting a tattoo. he was amenable to the idea, provided that I get one of two things: Nibbler from futurama, or Tyra Banks. The idea behind Nibbler was that Nibbler is adorable, I'm adorable, so it's like adorable squared. The reasoning behind Tyra is that dreamland-Luke thought she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, next to me, and that if I got her photo tattooed on my tush that he would have the best of both worlds.

I'm not sure what this dream means, but I'll take it as a sign that he is warming to the idea of me inked.

Confessions of a naught knitter.

I've been a bad knitter. I broke all of the cardinal rules, and now I'm paying for it.
1. I didn't check gauge
2. I "eyeballed" rather than measuring
3. I knit merrily away w/o really looking at my piece in progress, so as to catch my mistakes early on.

I am (was) working on a second Paris Loop for my mother. I love my first one. I cast on and knit away. I made one a year ago so the second one should turn out the same, right? Wrong. My second piece is almost 5 inches longer and at least 5 inches wider. My gauge is significantly looser (8 sts/4" versus 10sts/4"). Although my knitting group thought the second piece was cute, the difference between the two garments (the first one actually being cute, and the second one looking sort of like the drape you wear at a hair salon" was astounding when I tried them on one after another. So I'm frogging it and will begin again. I think I'm going to make a hat before I start again. I need some more knitting satisfaction.

Whenever I try to make clothing I spend more time ripping than I do knitting. I don't want to have to be a careful knitter, and I pay for it. Time for me to buckle down and pay more attention.

Grrr.

My basket floweth over

This weekend I went to my first Knitting Convention with Knotty Historian and another friendly knitting companion. I learned that knitters can sometimes be a little... intense about their craft, you can make yarn out of anything - even your pet hair, and the knitted vintage looking lingerie is something every knitter should make in their lifetime. I bought more yarn that I have ever owned in my life:

While I'm on a knitting topic, I have some finished pieces:
Fetching with an extra cable at the base and at the end. (they're drying in this pic):

My Rainbow Scarf (full and detail), made lovingly in Schafer yarn's Judy Garland - a birthday gift from knotty:





And finally, the soaking of Hot Head - a new hat for Mr. Wonderful. You'll get the full photo once its dry

Late?

This is late, but I'm always late. So it works. Happy Valentine's Day! I'm less of a Valentine's Day fan and more of a "it's an excuse to do something different" kind of person. I think it's the Catholic in me. Let's see... it's Thursday, we want to do something... there's gotta be a saint around here that we can celebrate... ah ha! Swedish saints: Winaman, Unaman & Sunaman, OSB Monks MM (AC)

"Died c. 1040. No this isn't a rock group. Rather this trio of nephews of Saint Sigfrid of Wexlow, followed their uncle to the Swedish mission. The Benedictine monks were martyred at Wexlow (Växjö) by beheading. There bodies were buried deep in the forest but the heads, which had been thrown into the nearby lake, were recovered and enshrined in the church at Växjö until the Lutherans removed them. These three are venerated in Sweden (Benedictines, Husenbeth)." (from www.stpatrickdc.org).

So bring on the ale and a toast to Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman.


In all seriousness, good times were had last night. Champagne + spicy Thai food + aqua teen hungar force = <3. I like excuses to do nice things for people, so I hooked mr. wonderful up with a new copy of Guitar World and cupcakes from the Buttery.

the library smells funny

It's not just the "old book smell", there's a really musty smell in our library that drives me nuts.

4.75 hours of looking through microfilm. I made it through 3.5 reels today and collected 65 pages worth of printed articles. I really hope I can use it. What I would like to find: detailed descriptions of the Whiteboy Outrages accompanied by pictures. What I am finding: most of the descriptions include the language "lawless and dastardly" to describe the Whiteboys and/or their acts, followed by "committed their usual Outrages/usual acts", and "nary a night is silent with these rogues about." The language is pretty awesome, although low on the details. What happened to sensationalist journalism?

some favourites:
"The White Boys are, if possible, more audacious than ever..."
"We are sorry to acquaint the public,that those riotous people called White Boys, whom we imagined had sufficient sense to repent of their former wicked proceedings, are still so insensible to their own safety, as to begin their usual (can't read word) and unmeaning excursions."

Last note, best music to listen to when sifting through Irish newspapers on microfilm: Flogging Molly, of course.

From Salty Dog:
They threw a rope around yer neck
To watch you dance the jig of death
Then left ya for the starvin' crows
Hoverin' like hungry whores
One flew down plucked out yer eye
The other he had in his sights
Ya snarled at him, said leave me be
I need the bugger so I can see

and Tobacco:
'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure
They dragged us from our homeland
With the musket and their gun
Cromwell and his roundheads
Battered all we know
Shackled hopes of freedom
We're now but stolen goods
Darken the horizon
Blackened from the sun
This rotten cage of Bridgetown
Is where I now belong

I feel a little like Tweak, getting excited about mentions of Oliver Cromwell (Ollie C?) in my Irish punk.













**To be clear, I couldn't give a flying rat's ass about Oliver Cromwell, it's the incorporation of historical anger, hell, pirates, and getting drunk that really rocks my socks.

**The Dance Hall Crashers is another good choice.

How my garden grows

Never before in my life have I had a garden. With the exception of the citrus trees we had around our house, and the small watermelon and corn plants that sprung up from where my sister threw some seeds, we never grew our own produce. I think the primary reason for the citrus was so my dad always had mixers on hand. Unfortunately a cross pollination accident resulting in lemon-orange-grapefruits, and lemon-lime-kumquats resulted in some pretty nasty citrus.

We applied for and got a garden plot in our complex's community garden. Not knowing a thing about gardening, and having an extraordinary talent for killing green things (if they don't cry, how do I know they're hungry?), I haven't done a thing with the plot since the summer. The weeds, however, have colonized our garden. Following this weekend's rain, and a nasty letter from FSH, I decided to tackle the weeds.

I had never weeded anything before but this weekend I became a weeding machine. The tactile experience of massaging the base of the root in damp soil to get the damn thing to release was more fun that I ever thought it would be. After 45 min I had cleared the plot and redistributed the soil. Working in a field where you always have one more book, one more draft, one more article, I revel in hobbies where I have a tangible sense of completion. When I knit, I have a project at the end of it; same for quilting. Seeing a whole trashcan over-flowing with plant material you extracted from the ground was a wonderfully satisfying experience.I conquered the invading plants and can now prep for planting.

Which means I now have to figure out what to plant...

Been a While

I had a very cheery post about knitting during the superbowl and wine tasting with mr. and mrs. kungfuramone that unfortunately got derailed by 1) my battery dying before I plugged in and 2) finding out that an old high school friend passed away on Sunday night due to a brain aneurysm. He was the slightly chubby, well-dressed, cracking wise, ladies man. Smooth in his goofiness and with an Irish twinkle that let him get away with anything (especially in class). Although I have fond memories of the 8 years I knew him, he is forever ingrained as the guy who asked me if I was "a moaner or a groaner", a question to which I had no qualifications to answer. It was actually much less offensive than I can seem to convey in writing, and the scene in particular-on the bus- is ingrained as one of those "typical" high school experiences. When I actually figured out which one I was (and no, I'm not telling), I later reflected back on that afternoon bus ride. Funny, the things you remember.

Although my friend's divorce announcement did not cause me to reflect on my own relationship, this "first" did. Pat left behind a wife of 3 years(also from the same high school), and a restaurant, although no children. There were no symptoms, his wife just found him in the morning. I think less about what would happen if I died and more about losing Luke. Would I stay in Santa Cruz? Move home? Which home? West Coast? East Coast? Stay in the program? Deal with my loss by throwing myself into nothing but history, or break down and never return? Losing your partner is something that I think crosses every one's mind from time to time as a "what if..."- but this death of an old friend who was my own age feels different.

Not exactly a happy post, but they can't all be.

Happiness...

... is a warm electric blanket. After visiting over the one rainy weekend in December my mom decided that Luke and I needed to be warm. So she bought us 2 electric blankets, one for the bedroom (remember, our bedroom gets no heat and has very drafty windows) and one for the upstairs (which gets heat, but heating a not well insulated house gets... how do you say... expensive). I've never had an electric blanket before but I think I'm in love. Normally I rely on the heat radiating from my laptop battery as I work on the couch, but now I can I actually stay warm all over rather just on one part of my leg. What can I say, I live for the small pleasures.

And speaking of small pleasures, JK Rowlings announced that the final Harry Potter book is coming out on July 21, 2007. The 5th film will be released on the 13th. I became a Potter fan around book three for two reasons: because magic is cool, and I like the pure escapism of the books. Hogwarts looks like way more fun that high school (or college, or grad school). Granted, I have to give some props to Luke for pointing out some serious gender issues in the series (Harry, who is a good magician but generally a fuck up, is always superior to Hermionie, who is smart and talented enough to be able to school everyone and their mother, always has to play second fiddle/gets taken out before the big battle). Nonetheless, it looks to be a good July.

And because I'm in favor of gratuitous nudity, Harry like you've never seen him before:

First one down, of sorts

A good friend of mine from the college years, with whom I've kept in-6mo-updates touch, announced her divorce today. Apparently it was finalized in November after 1.5 years of marriage. Sadly, it's not exactly a shock (the wedding was actually a more surprising decision), but it is the first one of my friends from a younger part of my life to get divorced.

We're not close, it doesn't affect me in a way that makes me look deeply at my relationship and wonder, or anything like that. I guess I'm just recording it as one of those life's firsts.

Wine, wine, wine

For my readers who do not know: I love Trader Joe's. I love their food, I love their beer, their cheese, and their wine.

My recommendations for tonight:
1- Old Moon Old Vines Zin is outstanding (and $5 a bottle). I also love my husband who when I asked "Should we put wine in the pasta sauce?" answered, "Definitely. And let's break out the expensive $5 bottle instead of the Shaw this time."

Honestly though, nice body, not as heavy as most Zins, but also less fruity, with a better finish and a better blend.

2-Trader Joe's (relabeled Gordon Biersch) Winterbrew. 7.5% sweet dopplebock and very good for the $5/6 pack price.

3-Trader Joes special ale that comes in a wine bottle with a champagne top, 2006 Vintage Ale. This is bottled and produced by unibroue, and outstanding Canadian brewery that brews in the Belgian style. More flavorful than a Chamay, but with all the complexity. This is basically unibroue's "Terrible" (pronounce it French-style) rebottled at and $5 a 750 ml rather than 10. It's very good, very strong (9% I think) and outstanding with burgers, nachos, or a good, rare, steak. (then again, what isn't?)

State of the Union

For anyone who is watching tonight, may I suggest: the state of the union drinking game.

A few nice things about getting older

At the ripe old age of 27, I have made some observations of things that seem to be getting easier in life rather than harder:

1. Teenagers listen to you more. Or at least they do when they're drunk and you're asking them to keep the party down, go to bed, and get off my lawn!

2. I don't get as embarassed trying new things for the first time and looking like a total fool.

3. My grey streak will kick serious ass when it grows in, and until then, I get to color it sparkly henna red.

4. Letting go of some of the body nonesence. A friend recently asked me if the body image baggage ever goes away. I'm sure some of it remains, but it does seem to get easier in you late twenties. As someone who has particularly memorable teenage experiences of sobbing in dressing rooms (flourescent lights are pure torture), the last few years I'm grown increasingly comfortable in my own skin. We'll see if that holds up as the wrinkles come...

5. Getting to make references to my young adult pop culture, have the references missed completely by my students/younger generation, and then getting to bemoan the state of today's youth/culture to my commrades.

6. Increasingly not getting carded.

One more...

Last Thursday night I had a dream that the goat proposed to my mom and they decided to get married. Yeah, my mom, who he has never met and is already married herself. It ended with my screaming, "I will not call you dad!"

Needless to say, it was pretty fucked up, and I forgot about it until reading goat's blog when it all came back. I'm not sure what I means, and I really don't want to know. I generally have fucked up dreams so I'll be sure to keep 'em coming as they float through my brain.

Tahoe

I spent a wonderful 4 days in Tahoe over MLK Weekend. It took us 7 hours to get up there, but worth every minute waiting in traffic (and we hit none on the way home). I decided to take a skiing lesson my first day and it was the best $80 for lesson, lift ticket, and rentals, that I ever spent. My teacher was great and I had a wonderful time after that. Luke, Adam, Prabath and I all went out the second day as well. Despite a early set back due to an overestimation of my skill and confidence level, I went back to some easier slopes in the afternoon and had a blast.
Tahoe itself was cold (-5 - 20), but beautiful, and I'd love to go back.
I had time to get some knitting in, making progress on my "muppet scarf" and reknitting my dark red and gold scarf (pics will follow on Sat).
Two final pics of the hardcore snow-goers and further proof that snow clothing (especially the jacket I inherited from an old high school bfriend) is super hawt.

Clarification and Dye Release

A brief note of clarification re: last post and Kungfu's comment re: food trumping sex. In the case of hot wings (and chile relleno burritos), it is the lingering chili/pepper oil that is sometimes forgotten in the heat of passion, only to remind the receiving victim of its presence with a slow and steady burn. If you wouldn't touch your eyes after handling certain foods, hands (and mouths) off pink bits, too.

and now for something completely different:

I had dye release with my henna. It only took 49 freakin' hours. But I glopped it on my head, read about Russian Jews, and several hours later have meadowy-smelling auburn hair. Hennaing my hair combines three of my favourite things: cooking, making a mess, and changing, even if subtle, my hair. I dig the no chemicals and they make my white streak bright red. Maybe when I'm completely white/grey I'll fulfill my dreams of becoming a redhead.

I also got to spend a lovely hour knitting with the Santa Cruz Fiber Artists, and tried out a new Eggplant recipe that Luke, who hates Eggplant, really liked.

I'll post pics when I con Luke into taking some. Although I don't think anyone beyond my fellow Santa Cruzians read this, so you can just see me in real life.


Also, for some reason my spell check isn't working, so I apologize for the misspellings.

Ok, Ok

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Down South

I'm back. Or as often as I can be considering the shaky wireless I'm stealing from the neighbors of my brother in law. The end of this quarter was rough, but it's done and now I'm in Pittsboro, North Carolina. We're staying with Luke's middle brother Erik for a couple of days before we, our luggage, and wo cats, make the long haul up to NJ. Mark, the youngest brother, is in the area but leaving soon. The basic plan is to sleep, eat, drink, Christmas shop, and generally dick off. Man, it's nice to be on vacation.

The house we're in is awesome. I have total house envy. It's huge, nice stone floors, vaulted ceilings, natural wood and lots of windows. I love that it's far enough into the woods that you don't need curtains on your windows because there is no one close enough to see you in all your naked glory. Especially coming from California, where "single family home" means there is a 6 in gap between you and your neighbor, it's really freakin' cool.

Ok, not much more to report and I have to stop typing b/c my shoulder is killing me.

Happy Hanukkah! To all who celebrate.

Panic Room

I swore not to post until I had more work done. I have a better post I'm forming about studying the Holocaust vs. teaching the Holocaust - but I cannot hold this in.

After meeting to discuss Foucauldian's Raimbow (Foucalutian? I can't spell) with fellow bloggers reallytiny, goat cheese, Tweak, and kungfuramone, all of us but kungfu wandered over to check out our new, spiffy grad lab.

It is in the basement. Hell, it is a basement. there are no windows. 3 of the walls are made of concrete blocks, one is painted white. There is no ventilation other than than a/c. I repeat, no freakin' windows! The lights are awful, the cwiling is unfinished piping, and it looks like a hospital basement. WTF?! it's ugly and we're never even going to be able to tell what time of day it is. Who designs a classroom with no windows and no natural light? Putting a bunch of sleep deprived stressed out grad students in a windowless room sounds like a brilliant idea. Let's just pad the walls while we're at it. Christ.

Grrr...

You are The High Priestess

Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.

The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Ha Ha! Bow before me! Bow I say!

Bow, or I will reveal countless useless bits of arcane knowledge stored up in my noggen!

Um, ok, back to work.

I think I'm losing it....

Grad School Eats my Brain... mmm. brain

I have no time. I'm very busy and hav e been thinking of posts in my free time, but have too much to do this week and next week to post regularly. So, in lieu of the major summary post that will cover my Thanksgiving (surprisingly low on drama), I will post some pictures to distract you, gentle reader, for the time being. These are all from Thanksgiving, and are a brief trip through the animal filled weekend.

This first one is my brother's in law's year old Yorkie, Marley. He's full of energy and cute as a button.


Next is Luke holding the abandonded kitty we found while on a walk with my sister. His name is Oscar and we took to an animal shelter. I think my dad's wife, Cindy, is going to follow up on his condition.

This is Max. Max is huge. He suffers from super fat cat (in part due to being a eunuch, in part due to being WAY over fed), with a little head syndrome. Here he is pictured with the antlers I bought for my sister's cat.


And here is Luna, my sister's totally awesome 16 pound cat. She is extremely talkative, friendly, and despite being on a special diet, seems bigger everytime I see her. I had the incredibly fantastic idea of my sister holding antler-wearing-Luna for her holiday cards. So here is Luna, in all of her glory. And the hottie holding her up is my sister, the occasional hand in the background is the other hottie in my life, Luke. (named Snow White by my sister because of his magic touch with animals. Witness the magic touch...)






sorry, no bisexual bird photos this time, but if I can convince my sister to run around naked with the cockatoo chasing after her, you bet I'll post those on the internet.

(love you, Erin...)

Home Alone

Luke's away at a conference . He's roughing it in a beautiful resort in Yosemite. On the down side, I'm jealous and wish I was with him exploring the park. On the upside, I get the house to myself.

And what do I get to do tonight, here, all by myself??? Study for German! Man, my life is so exciting, sometimes I can barely contain myself.

Ok, back to the subjunctive. Ich kann Deutsch.

In some good news, (Chris, pay attention) I found a summer program in German at UC Berkeley, 3 days a week, 2 hours in the morning, German readings class designed to improve comprehension and quote: "for graduates preparing for reading examinations". Best part (how sad this is the best part...) it's only $800, so there would be time to say, get a job and have some income in addition to learning the German.

So, if I don't get the $$ needed to study in Germany, or here for that matter, this one would be doable, and hopefully prepare me for what I need.

Confessions of a Trekkie

I love Star Trek. Specifically, I love ST:TNG. It was my first real glimpse into the world of science fiction, and gave me my first TV crush as a young, and impressionable middle schooler. I was going to marry Wesley Crusher. I even had a picture of the geek-of-my-13-year-old-dreams on my wall. This explains a couple of things: my love of nerds, science nerds to be specific; and why I couldn't get a date until I was 17 (the perm palyed a large role in that too, but that's another post).

Unfortunately, Wil Wheaton left the show, I discovered Beverly Hills 90210 and Seinfeld, and we went our separate ways. I went on to marry the dork-of-my-20-year-old-dreams, and from what I hear Wil is doing well with a family of is own.

For those who don't know, I am a loyal reader of fark.com a kooky list of media stories submitted with zazzy headlines. The real beauty of fark are the threads, where all sorts of dorks, geeks, fanatics, fundamentalists, college students, and other such nuts with too much time on their hands, can post to their heart's delight. To the left are two of my favourite pics commonly posted: "O RLY?" Owl, whose stencil you can see on one of the benches at the Health Center Bus stop and "buttseks owl".

Much to my joy and delight, Luke, my then-unknowing-of-my-Wesley-obsession-husband, mentioned that Wil Wheaton is not only a reader, but a fairly common poster on fark boards. In dedication to all things Wil, they even have a Wil tag for Wil related stories.
Today we were treated to one of Wil's ST:TNG episode summaries. For those trekkies out there, read it you'll laugh your ass off.

Salsa Fanatics

Luke and I are salsa fiends. Jeff brought by this mega tub of salsa on Sat night. We finished it, completely finished it, on Monday. And we didn't even eat at home on Sunday. Salsa is like a vegetable/salad for us. The chips are merelly a vehicle for the tomato-y goodness.

In unrelated news, I slipped in the dance studio and landed funny on my wrist. The last few years my wrists have been noticibly weaker and this fall was anything but fun. Thank god for Advil and I think I may pick up a wrist support the next time I'm out. I'm getting old... I think I need more calcium in my diet.

They Liked It...

I've been feeling bitter. Bitter, and stressed, and burned out. I'm so glad this quarter is almost over and I've decided that I need to seriously change my outlook before I 1) cry in class (again) 2) freak out in class (again) or 3) make everyone I'm around miserable because I can't get over my own shit.

The issue, and i'll do this briefly because I don't want to bore my readers, is that I'm frustrated. I'm not lacking in confidence (or ego for that matter). I know I'm good at what I do. I wouldn't have come to grad school if I wasn't. Frankly, all of us know that we're good at what we do, we wouldn't have made the choice to be in history if that wasn't the case. Of course there's always room from improvement.. and that's what's driving me nuts. I know I have a big jump to make from where I am now to where I need to be to be competitive professionally. I know I'm not there, and I want to be pushed to be there, but I'm not sure that's happening. Maybe my work is as good as my profs seem to think it is, but I'm getting wary of the positive feedback. I know that sounds completely and totally batshit insane, but the research proposal I turned in needed work. Desperate work. And the comments... she liked it, and felt I had outlined a really good project. Well, I already knew the project was solid, but the proposal was crap. I wanted it ripped to shreds. re-reading that, I must be insane.

I feel sort of nuts (that may also be the last of the Halloween candy I scarfed down...), so I'm going to sign off, promise to post more often, and spend the rest of the evening with Luke watching a movie.

keep on truckin'

Must... keep... working...

It hasn't been a super long day, just an exhausting one. Gender makes my brain hurt. Actually, I'd like it better if it actually made my brain hurt from the flexing of my mighty intellect, rather than just giving me a bitch of a headache. Unlike my other classmates I haven't received my research proposal back. Frankly, I'm not too worried - I already know it's a piece of crap, so there's not much she can tell me that I don't already know. In fact, seeing how hard she seemed to reem everyone else, I'm glad that my concluding paragraph consists of "I don't have a conclusion yet, you'll get it in the next draft."

I'm understanding Derrida better (which is good because I present on him tomorrow and have to write a paper by 2 pm tomorrow afternoon), but I'm still in for a long night of work. The issue I run into with position papers with someone like Derrida is I make my position, I state my argument, but I'm always afraid that I've read him wrong or just didn't get it as well as thought I did. After Derrida on Tuesday, I have 30+ papers to grade, all the grades to record and evals to write, and read and prep for section, which my prof is going to sit in on. Oy Vey!

The work just never ends.

In random musings, I think that everyone should be forced to take a class on the basics of capitalism and the capitalist system, as well as a readings course on Marxism, Marxist history and Neo-Marxist history. I'm amazed at how many of my students cannot define capitalism, and throw about marxism and Marxist terminology w/o having any idea what they are talking about.

go, go, gadget brain!

Paper Done!

God that was evil, now onto Derrida -
up, up, and away!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Or, holy crap I don't want to write my gender response.

I hate writing. More percisely, I hate getting started on my writing. I love developming my argument and feeling like I was able to drive a point home with particular thrust and grace - but I hate getting started. I will do anything, anything to put it off. I'd rather spend 8 hours working on a presentation or preparing a lecture.

I know writing gives you a deeper grasp of the readings, I know it's good practice and all that jazz, but these short essays, particularly in the "reflection paper" format, just make me want to jab pointy things into my brain. I never thought I'd say this, but I actually like book reviews better!

Grumble, back to starting...

Mmmmm steak

I just found my two favourite reasons to keep eating meat. Courtesy of a USA Today opinion, I give you:

•As a country boy in South Dakota, while in high school I worked in an old-fashioned "butcher shop." Owner Tom Rosser paid me $1 a week and all the salami I could eat. He also taught me how to cook a steak rare.

•In Europe in WW II, we all knew that that Nazi nut Adolf Hitler was a vegetarian.

Full editorial here.

In all seriousness, although I tend to eat a lot of non-meat dishes (cheap grad student, it happens), I could never give up meat entirely. I like it too much. There is just nothing like a New Orleans BBQ shrimp, or a thick fillet mignon that's just slightly more than seared on the outside with asparagus, hollandaise, and a bottle of red wine.

I take it back

Jeff didn't get me sick, frankly I'm not nearly as sick as he was.

I just like having someone to blame and he, having sniffled his way thorugh the last 2 weeks, was an easy target.

I like having an escape goat.

(If you don't know what an escape goat is, you've never taught a Holocaust class and read student papers. Every class, never fail, I get at least one "Hitler used the Jews as an escape goat" comment. Escape goats make me smile inside.)

http://beta.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifBest hubsand evar

I came home after a short sction and printing article to find Luke, waiting at home, with a big pot of coffee. There's just something wonderful about that.


Inspired by this crapedemia post I've been thinking about my wiritng alter-ego. I'm surprised it took me so long, because it's fairlly obvious:

still sick, still bitter

But at least I'm bitter about being sick (and not about grad school, for once).

I got to have one of those my-head-is-in-a-sudafed-induced-highly-caffineated-fishbowl teaching experiences today. The adrenaline from teaching collided with the caffeine from my cold meds and wooooooooo! I hope I made some sense.

I'm having a difficult time getting my sections rolling this year. People talk (probably about 1/2 of them), but I'm seeing more blank stares, doodling, or laying down on the desk than I have in the past. I don't know if it's because I don't have as strong of a handle on this material, or that because this class is an underdivision it's just going to be like this.

I have two brief weigh-ins on recent posts by kungfuramone and crapademia. Gender: the problem is that we're stuck in the materiality of the history and never bother questioning the meaning or structure behind the categorization. We're still at the "how does it manifest" rather than "what does it mean that it manifests in this way"?

I think part of this feeds into the fetishization of archives: when you do material or social history, you are doing a materialist type of history. It's a lot about people and things and how people and things interact, rather than looking at the cultural framework, or the expression of the cultural or intellectual framework, and delving into how that structures the way people and things interact.

I use archival research/material to flush out context, but as someone who considers themselves to be a cultural/intellectual historian, it's not where I put the brunt of my focus. Unless you're counting things like archived copies of 1930s and 1940s playbills and political flyers, but I use those to reconstruct or flush out a visual and performative culture that by its very nature has been lost.

In random news, I've decided that my grammer needs work. I think I'm going to pick up "East, shoots, and leaves."

In my bedside "light reading list" - Foucault on Foucault. Maybe it'll be easier with the cold meds :)

*shakes fist*

Jeff, you bastard, I have your cold.

I'm bitter.

BITTER.

I hate being sick.

My Beaver won a prize!

The website I constructed on the Beaver Trade in World History for my world history class won the second place prize in the Southeast World History Association Graduate paper competition. This is very exciting news for me. If you want to take a peek at my page, here's the link:
http://people.ucsc.edu/~kfeinste/

I also want to give special thanks to Luke for helping me with the html and the general layout. Also thanks to Mark for sending me documents from the Duke library, and Erik for helping with some of the proofing.

Pumpkins!

Halloween is one of my favourite holidays. I love the diffused lighting around this time of year and the changing of the wardrobe colors to simulate the basically non-existant changing colors in nature. I had some peeps over this Sat for pasta, drinks and pumpkin carving. Here is my 2006 Pumpkin:

I'm actually feeling a lot better this weekend... about everything pretty much. Nonetheless, I wanted to share a personal favourite of frustrated creative genius. I give you Alfred Dürer's "Melancholia":


Between the look of impotance and frustration and the abandoned tools of her trade, this is a mirror image of what I look like when I sit down to write. Plopped down in my ass groove on my couch, staring in to my computer, surrounded by books, notes, notebooks, pencils, and empty cups of coffee.

I really don't want to write my research proposal. I'm going to go into the grad lab and hope that it inspires me a bit more.

"He's not the messiah, he's a very naughty boy"

Terry Jones of Monty Python fame was diagnosed with bowel cancer last week. His surgeon believes he caught it early enough, but only time will tell.

As a long and loyal Python fan I sincerely wish Jones the best and speediest recovery.

Plus, he's a historian! Medieval, yes, but one us nonetheless.

Ich kann Deutsch

I got a 95 on my German test. Maybe I'm doing better with the language than I thought.

More later, section in 15 min.

Sweat

I sweat, you sweat, we all, as human animals, sweat. And I hate it. I
don't mind in the I-just-ran-my-ass-off-sweat, or the been-knockin'-boots-for-the-last-hour-sweat,
in fact I really like them both. But I hate the
I'm-in-front-of-a-room-of-undergrads-and-my-arm-pits-look-like-they-went-for-a-swim.
I honestly try to wear only black t-shirts and tank tops when I teach
section.

I've tried just about every anti-perspirant under the sun. In fact, I've discovered that they don't make a damn bit of difference when compared to plain deodorants or nothing at all.

I don't want to be remembered as the TA/job candidate/prof with the
sweaty pits (because you know we all notice it on other people).

Now I'm going to take my sweaty self and go get more sweaty in a sweat appropriate environment.

the friut of the vine

Ah wine, a wonderful way to wind down after a long day. I had a presentation on "Performance as Ritual" today in Performance and Performativities which I think went well. Writing my position paper for that class was one of the hardest essay I've had to write. In part because my alarm didn't go off this morning and while I expected to get up at 6... I really got up at 8 am to write the damn thing. I was also constrained to 3 pages (which turned into 3 and 2/3). Being concise is a challenge for me, particular when dealing with theory I'm struggling to understand, much less take a position on. Either way, it went well, the paper is in, and I've had a great dinner of homemade chicken Marsala over pasta and am on my second glass of merlot.

I'm still not sure how I feel about the new template. It may change w/in a few days.

My new goal is to maintain a google calendar for myself. I'm notorious for buying planners and never using them, so I'm hoping a web-based program will work better for me. I already use gmail and blogger, I might as well keep up the Google product support.

One More

Trying to differentiate myself amongst a sea of templates...

Until I get off my ass and learn html I'm going to be switching through templates for a while.

Updates

I think I've added all the history slug blogs... I'll introduce tomorrow.

While on the academia theme, you must all (if there is an all out there) read this comic.

HAPPY COMING OUT DAY

HURRAY!!!

For all my queer friends and family, for all those closeted, 1/2 out, or out and fabulous, I hope it was a good one.

For all those who aren't out, just know that you are loved, accepted, and always have a place in our hearts and home.

Beavers

I made a beaver joke in class today. In all fairness, it wasn't totally out of context, but since I left section I'm been wondering if I traumatized anyone, alienated anyone, or if I crossed that line of teach/student/grad student/person who stands up in front of class jumps around grades our papers but is really the same as us.

Last winter I created a web page about the Beaver trade for my World History class. I really struggled with that course and in my bouts of hysteria in which I thought I was never going to get through the quarter in one piece, (I was also TAing for the first time, in German II, and taking a class on some of my favourite dictators: Stalin and Hitler), the thought of being able to do an entire research project on our industrious friend the beaver really got me through. Our professor gave us what I at the time thought was an insane, but later turned out to be a lot of fun, "non-term paper term paper" assignment that made me want to bash my head against the wall repeatedly. I generally think of myself as a creative person, but not when under pressure. I dance, for example, but struggle to no end with choreography. In reference to Chris's academic v. struggling artist post, I'm actually going the history route b/c it seemed slightly more stable that pursuing dance professionally, but I digress...

So I'm in my last week or two of the quarter, I'm trying to do a commodity history of the beaver trade, connecting the North American side of the story with the Muscovite furriers in Russia and the gendered division of labour in the hat trade in France... and I sort of get there, but it's boring. Dry, dull, why would anyone want to read this sort of history. My grand tapestry of world history connecting the continents and women's position in totally different "professions" on totally different continents connected by one fuzzy dead animal... just didn't take off in quite the way I envisioned. Yes, we historians do have heroic dreams about writing history - hey, we take what we can get :) My prof recommended doing something with pictures, and trying to restructure to make it more fun, less boring. So I have a week, my term paper is too term papery and I'm fresh out of ideas when I turn to my husband and say, "how about a website?" He takes off his headphones, looks up from Neverwinter Nights and asks, "what?" Which I of course took as a tacit agreement to help me in my website endeavour (I had little idea what I was doing).

Thanks to Google Image search, some quick re-writing and the saint-like patience of Luke and my brother-in-law, Erik, I got the thing done and I'm actually quite proud of it. What can I say, beavers make me happy and in this field you get your joy where you can. Here's the site. The medium actually allowed me to take the history I wanted to write in a different angle, splitting my subject up into 3 related parts that I could not get to flow together in a formal essay.

But once again, I digress. I'm in class and we're discussing the 17th century memior of Glükel of Hamlen. Glükel's memior was written in the last 40 years of her life for her children. For those not familiar with Glükelchen, her writings are the only autobiographical material we have from a Jewish woman at this time, and one of the few, complete surviving women's memiors from the Early Modern period. Long story, short: she's important and reads like your Jewish grandmother, may she live in Blessed memory. Glükel mentions her business with Jewish Muscovite traders and the class is looking at me with the specific blank so-what stare you get with undergrads when you think you've made a big connection but in reality your historical train has left them at the station. I blurted out something about my research, my page and how happy it made me to have a project surrounding beavers, and that the double entendre that sprung to everyone's mind made me happy.

Not too bad, right?

I'll let you know if someone complains of me sexually harassing them or making the classroom an uncomfortable place. Sheesh.
>

First Rain

Ah, the first rain of the season... oodles of naked undergrads prancing about campus... jiggling and bouncing up and down the hills...

There really isn't anything like coming back from a night of karaoke at the local bowling alley to hundreds of tookuses bouncing across the intersection. For those who don't know, First Rain is a tradition here at UCSC in which you strip down and run around campus in your birthday suit the first day/night it rains of the fall quarter. I must say, the temptation to leap out and join them was might strong, tempered mainly by a somewhat tipsy Luke and the fear that I would run into students. And really, what do you way to someone in your section after seeing them without their knickers?

In a rather large break from the norm I have been to karaoke twice in the last 2 days. I even sang, albeit it nervously and probably badly, Cabaret, from the musical by the same name. This followed an impromptu potluck with the new cohort - a sprightly group who have brought laughter and some much needed energy into our dept.

So far, the quarter is threatening to eat me alive. I'm overloaded with work, class time, meetings, TA assignments and so on. I'm trying to QE in fall of next year, so I'm working on putting together game plan to streamline my MA/QE process. I'm moving in all the directions I need to, but it's going to be tough getting through this quarter. I see Luke much less than I want to, I run around much more than I want to, and I never seem to have enough time to actually sit down and work. Fortunately, I'm still getting my buns to the gym (or Tae Bo in my living room), so I feel like I have control over at least part of my life. Of course I'm out of clothes and the kitchen is a disaster area... but maybe with all the exercise I'll embrace my inner slug and go sans clothes next week :)

I need to add more pictures. I need to take more pictures. This will be my plan for my next few posts.

New Term

I've been 27 for a week - ack. Actually, it's not too bad. For the first time I'm getting freaked out with the, college took four years and four years from now I'll be 31 and may be starting a family, but otherwise I'm doing ok.

Luke and I went on an incredible 5.5 hour hike through Wilder Ranch and down to the beach. We saw a ton of wild life and managed to avoid the poison oak. I've never been on a hike that long and discovered some of the shortcomings of my shoes in that time. It was awesome and I'll post pics once Prabath posts his.

Classes officially start tomorrow, fortunately I don't have anything until Friday. The new history cohort seems to be a really nice, motivated, and outgoing group. I'm looking forward to spending more time with them.


I'm working on putting together a website for the Jewish History class I will TA this quarter. So far it looks good and I've impressed my prof, so what more could I ask for ?

I think this year will be a good year. A challenging year but a good one.

Grumblings

I turn 27 in about 2 hours and 30 min. For the first time, I'm feeling old. Not physically old, but like time is passing more quickly than I would like it to and the next thing I know I'm going to be 40, still in grad school and unemployed. Hmm, guess what's lurking in my anxiety closet?

Grad school is so much more lonely than I ever expected it to be. Up until now I haven't had many classes with other grad students. The upside is the ability to work closely with professors, the down side is that I feel my academic social life, not to mention my actual social life, is somewhat lacking. We all just seem so into our own work, and not necessarily happily so, that no one has the time/energy/desire to really reach out. When you do, you do so with the realization that grad school is temporary and that after our brief stint here, most of which is spent with our noses to the grindstone, we will be gone. It sets an odd sense of this time as very temporary, even if it is going to be 4 to 6 years in one location. Especially because of the lack of industry and high housing market, the likelihood that many of the people you meet here will actually settle here is slim to none.

I'm making good progress with my transcriptions, although they are much more slow-going than I expected. I'm on almost 9 or 10 hours and still not done with my 1 hour and 20 min interview. I certainly hope I will get quicker as I go along. I like the research work I am doing and I absolutely love the people. I'm nervous about this coming school year because it's going to be hard and a lot of work. The classes I'm taking are interesting and will be essential to rounding me out as a scholar, but they're going to be tough.

Honestly, I find myself crying a lot. I argue with my husband more often, and I can't seem to let go of even the smallest things. It's like I don't feel like I'm accepted here, so even little details on which he disagrees with me (doesn't accept me), I get super defensive about and try to bludgeon him with my point of view. In case you had any doubts, it doesn't do much good other than get us both really upset. I know I'm acting strangely, and I'm never personally offended by his disagreeing with me, but for some reason I feel the need to "convert" him to my side, even if for 30 seconds over something trivial like the proper use of Tu and Ud. in Spanish. I know I'm being overly sensitive, but it doesn't help me from stopping being so. I'm scared of how it's going to translate into a class. I already feel like I'm the weirdo, intense, hyper, cynical one... the last thing I need is for my brain to go screwy and to fight with one of the people I want to become friends with. On the good side, I held my tongue and prevented a fight when I disagreed with my sister this weekend. Argh. We'll see. Maybe I should just finish my Masters and teach at a private High School.

Anyway, 2 hours and 15 min. Sad, it's the first birthday I'm not excited about, but am actually sort of depressed.

Friday Night Services

Doing Jewish History, I'm running into a funny place. Although I grew up with a fairly good understanding of Jewish Culture from my family and I have a good working knowledge of Modern Jewish History, I am lacking pretty severely in an understanding of the actual religious practice. Spurred by both this whole in my knowledge and my own desire to know more about my Jewish roots, I decided to attend Friday night services.

I attended at Temple Beth El in Aptos, CA. I had heard nice things about their services (Reform), and one of their rabbis had performed High Holiday Services at UCSC last fall. I remembered bits and pieces from the last Shabbat I went to almost 20 years ago, which saved me with some of the Hebrew. Honestly, I was surprised by how much of the service was conducted in Hebrew and I plan on attending Fri night services led by Hillel here to see how they compare. Overall, I liked the message (English translation was provided), and loved the music. I like the Shabbat ritual and the text tended towards "Eternal One" and references to the promises of Moses and Miriam, rather than the "God, our Father, who is so big" heavy anthropomorphic language that I have heard in the Christian services I have attended most recently (my in-laws are Christian). I think it is a service and cycle that Luke would also like, but I frankly see the Hebrew as being a major turn-off and issue with approachability.

I liked the rabbi's "preview" of the Torah portion, in which he was exploring the issue of child labor today and what the Torah has to say about it. The way in which he applied a consideration of the past and what the Torah and Talmud have to say about a current social problem, and how to reconsider and apply that thinking, appeals very strongly to me. It is not the same as looking into the Bible for solutions to present problems, and then following blindly, but looking with a historical perspective to issues that have plagued human history for centuries and becoming involved in that debate/conversation as a means of debating as to how to alleviate suffering and injustice today. I am interested in attending a Sat morning minyan to hear the discussion of the weekly Torah portion. That will likely be my next goal.

I also made Challah for the first time from scratch without a bread maker, and it came out very well if I do say so myself

Back from NJ

Our two week trip to the East Coast went very well. We stayed with Luke's parents, Mark, and Erik on LBI (south of Beach Haven) for a week. The beach was beautiful and I got to see big jellyfish in the water for the first time. I wasn't so crazy about the squishy remnants of their carcasses, but no one got stung and it meant that the water was warm. We had two wonderful seafood dinners and I have a newfound affection for scallops.

One of the highlights was taking Mark out to his first NJ bar. $1 coronas and $1 Jager shots at the local beach bar. Ended the night with a chilly (chillier for some) swim and some star gazing on the beach. Crabbing was another first for me. We caught mainly small ones, but here's a pic of the bigger crab. Too small to get much meat off of, but fun to play around with. And of course, chasing after people with the crab in hand.

After NJ, I drove down to DC to do some research. I stayed with Rita, a college friend, and borrowed Jack's prius for the drive. On the way I stopped at Camp Ritchie, MD, one of the focal points, if not the actual focus of my research. The camp is beautifully laid out and seeing it in person gave me a better sense of the setting of the Ritchie Boy's training experiences.

I spent 2 days in the National Archives, and two days interviewing former Ritchie Boys. Bernie and the entire Lubran family were exceptionally warm and welcoming to me. His help in finding Ritchie Boys has been very important to my research and it was wonderful to feel so personally welcomed into his home. In my time I collected 4 interviews, over 400 pictures of documents from the NA, visited the Holocaust Museum, and made a contact at the Museum of American Jewish Military History. Of course now I have to transcribe and sort through all of the data I collected.

I hadn't been to DC in several years and I was greatly impressed by the city. Everyone was very warm and friendly, and the city had the older European feel, not unlike Boston. You had the quirky vibe of a big metropolitan center, but without the urban jungle feel that I get in Manhattan.

Returning to NJ, we attended Brendan's BA bash before heading home. Unfortunately, when we got home we discovered that Luke's roof had been cut, and his car had been broken into (just the face plate was stolen). It's funny, but it reminded me strongly of the "dorm" feeling of our home. Although I love living here and I love our apartment, it will be nice when we have things like a garage and do not have to park our cars in open, generally unguarded lots out of eyesight from our actual home.

A Disturbing end to a vacation...

My mom and Charlie came back from their vacation last night to find their house flooded. The water tank burst, pumping aprox. 600 gallons of water through the house. Three ceilings collapsed, there is mold growth everywhere, and just about anything on the floor has been ruined. In addition to the physical damage to the house, all of my mom's paintings and art supplies have been destroyed. Nothing is salvageable. They'll be staying with friends while they decide what course to take.

I wish I could do something to help. At this point they have to decide whether to stay at Superstition Mountain, stay in the house, stay in AZ at all... I can tell my mom is in shock and it will be a while until they make any sort of definite decision. Either way, it is a horrible thing to have happened.

Theater and more

My dad and Cindy gave Luke and I a generous anniversary gift. We used part of it to attend, and eat our way through, the Gilroy Garlic Festival. We used the rest of it tonight to see Shakespeare Santa Cruz' production of King Lear. The stage used was an outdoor auditorium with open, on the ground seating. We set up a picnic blanket, popped open a bottle of wine, and enjoyed the show. Overall the production was very good. Edmund and Edgar were particularly well played, and the lighting and set choices were stupendous. Although I liked the actor who played the fool, I on the whole did not like the directorial choices regarding the fool. In previous productions the fool in Lear is a dependent, a little crazy, and generally prophetic. The fool in this production was more of an equal to Lear, the relationship did not carry the same weight as in other productions I've seen. Nonetheless, it was a very enjoyable experience, and one we will have to repeat.

We are preparing to leave for NJ on Sat. We'll be at LBI until the 19th, and then I'll be in DC from 21-4. I will be staying with the lovely Rita Garcia, and am eternally grateful for her hospitality.

Grades, grades, grades

I started this saying something about wanting to document my TA experience and I figure that now is as good a time as any. I just finished TAing for my 3rd course here at the University. I enjoyed both the professor and the class content, and did not have to lead section. It was a very pleasant experience, I picked up some pedagogical tips, and learned enough about Northern Renaissance art to (hopefully) blow the socks off anyone I'm traveling with through Europe.

Even considering the wealth of information I picked up from Professor Madar, one of the most useful lessons I learned this quarter is the importance of the grade break down. The final grade for each student was broken down into assignments and expectations, each making up a certain percentage of the final mark. Although fairly standard for college level classes, what surprised me the most was the difference between what I eyeballed each grade to be versus the actual computation of all scores. Overall, I had overestimated where I thought the student's final grade was going to be - although in a few cases I had underestimated as well. My class average would have definitely have been inflated had I simply stuck to my estimates. As someone who is trying to figure out how they want to teach and structure their classes, this was a wonderful piece for me to learn.

Gilroy Garlic recipe

Luke and I went to the Gilroy Garlic festival this weekend and I want to share a very tasty recipe we picked up:

Olive Garlic Pesto
Ingredients:
-10-20 cloves of peeled garlic (depends on how garlicy you want it)
- 3/4 c Clamatto Olives, pitted
- 3/4 c Green Olives (garlic stuffed if you prefer)
- 3-4 c basil (one large bunch from the grocery store)
- 2 c. flat leaf (Italian) parsley (one large bunch)
- 1/2 c sundried tomatoes in oil (or reconstituted overnight in water if dried)
- 3 T capers
-olive oil
-balsamic vinegar
-1/4 c. chicken broth
-4-6 boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces
-1 package of romanita tomatoes, or 5-6 regular sized roma tomatoes, cut into 1/4 or 1/6 cubes
-linguini or spagattini
-fresh grated parmesan, romano or Locatelli cheese (for topping)

Put everything from garlic to capers into a food processor. Add a generous dash or two of balsamic and olive oil (2T- 1/4 c depending on your preference for your pesto). Blend until smooth.

Boil water, add pasta, cook according to instructions on package.

While pasta is cooking, add olive oil to pan and cook chicken on Med-high heat. The pan will be hot, you want the chicken to brown quickly. When the chicken is almost done, add the tomatoes and cook 3-4 min or until they begin to soften. Deglaze the pan with 1/4 c. chicken broth.

Drain pasta and add to pan with chicken. Add pesto. Mix.

Top with freshly grated cheese and garnish with basil.

Leftover pesto can be frozen and spread over crustinis as an appetizer. Or stuff a portobello mushroom cap, sprinkle with red pepper flakes, top with mozzarella, put in oven until cheese is bubbly and, voila! Dinner.

Updates

It's been a while, so I'm just filling in. A little over a week ago I had my first interview with Gerry Gert, a former Ritchie Boy living in Napa, CA. He and his lovely wife, Margaret, treated me to a wonderful lunch and sweets prior to my interview with Gerry. I'm recording my dialogues with Guitarband and an omnidirectional mic. The mic and program work well, although I can only record 30 min tracks and I'm having some problems exporting to itunes/mp3 format. I need to work out those bugs. I have another interview set up for this coming Sat and several more I need to schedule. I've received good feedback on my research proposal and things seem to be moving in the right direction.

I'm grading finals from the HAVC course I'm TAing. I have been working with Heather Madar for the past 5 weeks. She is an incredible lecturer and I am glad to have had the opportunity to work with someone a little bit outside of my discipline. The finals are strong (I wonder if I'm grading harshly enough), and overall the class has made definite improvement. TAing for Hart history has been a good experience overall, one I would not at all mind repeating.

The current quest in my life is for the perfect bathing suit. Ok, I'll settle for decent but cute at this point. Due to the way I'm shaped, but the time I find a bottom that fits my waist/hips without leaving unsightly bulges the bottom is so loose that I run the risk of being pantsless after even the gentlest waves. This year's styles all fit much lower on my body than I would like -heaven forbid I don't want to show surfer's crack every time I bend over.