It's now that time where I re-emerge from the academic leaf litter to pretend I'm a faithful blogger.
A few hours ago, I turned in the last of my final projects for the semester. It was an out-of-the-ordinary project too, which made it a difficult last one. It was for a class called Women, the Environment, Ecofeminism, & Environmental Justice (or Green Consciousness for short). The class dealt with ecofeminist theory. I've never been a skilled theory head, so I did my share of struggling with the dense abstractions and philosophizationizing.
Knowing as much early on in the semester, I asked the professor if I could write an ecofeminist story as a final project. My secret agenda was that it would allow me to craft one more story for my thesis. I was pretty psyched when she agreed. Her only additional request was that I also write a critical analysis of my own story, using ecofeminist theory to back up the choices I made in the story.
Well, the story came out a little less satisfactorily than I had hoped. The hard work will come in revising it. However, the substance of the story paralleled green theory very well. I'm glad I undertook this project, since it gave me a better sense of applying theory to my fictional worlds. It's certaintly not something I want to make a habit of though. That's hard work doing all that flipping back and forth through books, double-checking details to make sure you've dealt them into the story properly.
Anyway, now I get a break from school for two months. Summer B class starts early July, so I have three books to read before then. Maybe I can squeeze in a bit of pleasure reading beforehand. Oh yeah, and some blog posts.
30 April 2007
06 January 2007
Killing time at work...
I'm sitting here, bored, working the occasional part-time thing at the Buehler Observatory in Davie, FL. Figured I'd post a couple of the pictures taken here. The guy that runs the place, Arno van Werven, is a self-taught amateur astronomer from Holland. Isn't that veerd?
First let me introduce you to the observatory itself:
It's kind of fun working here, but, man, I just don't dig any place where I have to interact with the public. Just as I start trying to sight an object, adults circle around me and start firing off rapid-fire questions, the answers for which they're not really interested in, since they start asking the next question before I'm done explaining the first one. Then, some moron kid runs over to the scope I just sighted and says, "What's in this one?" grabbing hold of the eyepiece and yanking down on it, which is when I say, "Well, the moon used to be in there."
Lately I've been getting, "Where's Saturn?"
I say, "It'll be up in about an hour."
Five minutes later, "Is Saturn up yet?"
Uggh.
I like you all though, so you can look at Saturn now if you want:
First let me introduce you to the observatory itself:
It's kind of fun working here, but, man, I just don't dig any place where I have to interact with the public. Just as I start trying to sight an object, adults circle around me and start firing off rapid-fire questions, the answers for which they're not really interested in, since they start asking the next question before I'm done explaining the first one. Then, some moron kid runs over to the scope I just sighted and says, "What's in this one?" grabbing hold of the eyepiece and yanking down on it, which is when I say, "Well, the moon used to be in there."
Lately I've been getting, "Where's Saturn?"
I say, "It'll be up in about an hour."
Five minutes later, "Is Saturn up yet?"
Uggh.
I like you all though, so you can look at Saturn now if you want:
It's not that I hate people--just stupid people who are overly excited and unable to control themselves.
Here's the Sun. We have solar observing every Wednesday afternoon, or on special solar occasions--like transits or eclipses.
If you want to see more of Arno's pictures: www.ilovestars.com
Stay spaced out, y'all!
26 December 2006
Hot air in the cold night
On the 23rd, my family and I went to visit some long-time family friends, the Dingles. Earnie and Dian Dingle used to flag and work turns at auto races with my mom. Now, they focus their time on hot-air ballooning. Every year around Christmas time, they invite a bunch of people to their place for a balloon glow, where they put the whole thing together and light up the stack in a stationary position. Well, the winter Pa weather often prevents the full-on glow. This year, the wind wasn't too bad, but the ground was too damp to lay the balloon out and fill it.
In lieu of a full-on glow, instead they brought the basket out and fired the burner up into the air. Here's Earnie getting ready to do so:
Check out that stream of burningness:
Like moths to a candle, we all crowded around and went, "Oooooo. Warrmmm."
When Earnie really fired the burner good, he created a hybrid day-night sphere all the way out to a treeline maybe 200 yards away. Quite awe-inspiring. Here, my dad (far left), the Witmers (center), and a Witmer-in-law (far right) bathe in the warmth and light radiating from the massive bursts of fire:
In the end though, the evening was an occasion for us to sit around, shoot the bull, and eat/drink ourselves silly. Here the Grays (center; also long-time family friends who still work at auto races) do the sitting around:
In the next picture, my mom shoots the bull while Emily contemplates another Wheat Thin with dip. Behind them are two growlers of some of the fine beer Harrisburg's own breweries have to offer: Troegs Mad Elf, and something hoppy from the Appalachian Brewing Company:
Also, in both pictures, you can see racing posters hanging on the wall--evidence of the exciting pasts of all these old farts. Not that I can talk though. In the end, I became the life of the party by looking at balloon glow pictures on my cell phone, and sending them to Earnie and Dian.
In lieu of a full-on glow, instead they brought the basket out and fired the burner up into the air. Here's Earnie getting ready to do so:
Check out that stream of burningness:
Like moths to a candle, we all crowded around and went, "Oooooo. Warrmmm."
When Earnie really fired the burner good, he created a hybrid day-night sphere all the way out to a treeline maybe 200 yards away. Quite awe-inspiring. Here, my dad (far left), the Witmers (center), and a Witmer-in-law (far right) bathe in the warmth and light radiating from the massive bursts of fire:
In the end though, the evening was an occasion for us to sit around, shoot the bull, and eat/drink ourselves silly. Here the Grays (center; also long-time family friends who still work at auto races) do the sitting around:
In the next picture, my mom shoots the bull while Emily contemplates another Wheat Thin with dip. Behind them are two growlers of some of the fine beer Harrisburg's own breweries have to offer: Troegs Mad Elf, and something hoppy from the Appalachian Brewing Company:
Also, in both pictures, you can see racing posters hanging on the wall--evidence of the exciting pasts of all these old farts. Not that I can talk though. In the end, I became the life of the party by looking at balloon glow pictures on my cell phone, and sending them to Earnie and Dian.
19 December 2006
Those darned semesters
Okay, so maybe I'm not cut out for this regular blogging thang. How about I just promise to post when I do?
The semester's over now, which is why I actually made it here to my chew toy to do some chewin'. I'm not suggesting anything, but the spring semester may accommodate more toy-chewing. I am no longer a GTA. I'm staying on at the University writing center, but I think I'd like to take some time off from teaching for a while. I will definitely teach again someday...when I get to decide the entire sequence and syllabus. As it is though, I am entrusted with the duty of instructing composition for 22 students, but I'm given a selection of readings to pick from, and told how to teach the process of writing. There's a lot more to college writing than making academic arguments. When I teach again, my sequence, in addition to the academic argument, will include other types of writing (i.e. creative, opinion, research).
At any rate, only working 10 hours per week should allow more room in my schedule for my own work. I'm at the point where my thesis proposal is in sight, so I should have more of it done than I actually do.
Also, my classes for the spring have me really excited:
Fiction Workshop
The American Short Story
Women, Ecology, Eco-feminism, and Environmental Justice
Methods in Madness (a one-week seminar led by poet Rosmarie Waldrop)
Good ol' reliable coursework. When all else irks me, I can always count on classes to cheer me up. After the spring, I'll only need one more writing workshop, but I know I'll take more classes than that--just for poops and laughters.
The semester's over now, which is why I actually made it here to my chew toy to do some chewin'. I'm not suggesting anything, but the spring semester may accommodate more toy-chewing. I am no longer a GTA. I'm staying on at the University writing center, but I think I'd like to take some time off from teaching for a while. I will definitely teach again someday...when I get to decide the entire sequence and syllabus. As it is though, I am entrusted with the duty of instructing composition for 22 students, but I'm given a selection of readings to pick from, and told how to teach the process of writing. There's a lot more to college writing than making academic arguments. When I teach again, my sequence, in addition to the academic argument, will include other types of writing (i.e. creative, opinion, research).
At any rate, only working 10 hours per week should allow more room in my schedule for my own work. I'm at the point where my thesis proposal is in sight, so I should have more of it done than I actually do.
Also, my classes for the spring have me really excited:
Fiction Workshop
The American Short Story
Women, Ecology, Eco-feminism, and Environmental Justice
Methods in Madness (a one-week seminar led by poet Rosmarie Waldrop)
Good ol' reliable coursework. When all else irks me, I can always count on classes to cheer me up. After the spring, I'll only need one more writing workshop, but I know I'll take more classes than that--just for poops and laughters.
15 September 2006
David Strathairn on a plane!!!
Most of the people I've told about this haven't cared a whole lot, but on my flight from Baltimore to Albany last weekend, I shared a plane with David Strathairn. If you don't know who he is, search for him ( www.imdb.com ) and recognize.
Suffice it to say he's not one of those actors that's gonna show up in Star magazine. I like him because he's in one of my favorite movies. He plays Whistler in Sneakers. If you haven't seen it, maybe a name-drop will interest you. He co-stars with Robert Redford, Sidney Poitier, Dan Akroyd, River Phoenix, Mary McDonnell, Ben Kingsley, and Timothy Busfield. And it's a fun-ass movie to watch over and over.
Anyway, I'm just chillin' in Baltimore, waiting to get on the plane, and he walks up to the trashcan nearby and sets his coffee down. I recognized him almost instantly, then surprised myself by doing the whole nervous thing. I couldn't believe seeing an actor actually made me nervous. I know famous people are just people at the core, but there's something so surreal about seeing someone in the real world that you've seen over and over in a fictional world.
Flying Southwest, he boarded with Group A, I think. I boarded later. Once I sat down on the plane, I found him from the back of his head and just sort of glanced forward every once in a while to see what he was doing. He proved himself a person by just sitting there quietly, reading throughout the entire flight. From the moment I first noticed him, I caught his occasional glance around to see if anyone had spotted him. I don't think anyone ever noticed him. I sort of felt bad for him, but I'm sure he preferred it that way, even though I think a small part of him wanted to be recognized for the skill he has within his craft.
On the flight, having struck up conversation with my neighbor, I saw fit to divulge my secret to her. She didn't know who he was either. Then, once we landed, I had to wait for people to clear out so I could get my bag from an overhead bin that wasn't right next to my seat. He too waited for everyone else to deplane. He wasn't taking any chances getting noticed. I grabbed my stuff and walked off.
As I headed for the rental cars, I listened to my voice mail for messages from Emily. I had to pick her up at the train station later, and wanted to see if her train left on time. In the process of paying attention to her message, I passed the turn toward the rental cars, so I doubled back.
And who do you think approached the turn just as I did? None other than David Strathairn. When he caught up to me, I lowered my phone, turned to him, and said, "Hey, how's it going?"
At first, I think he thought I was talking on the phone, but he must've felt me looking, so he raised his head, and returned the greeting--sort of a shy, unsure "Hi." But as he continued on to baggage claim, I saw him smile. I don't know if he was smiling because he knew I had recognized him, or because he thought he had said hi to me mistakenly while I was on the phone. I get the impression he knew I had recognized David Strathairn, the actor, in an airport, which made me happy that I might have made him happy.
I could've said any number of things to him about his movies, but I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I didn't become the rambling moron. "Oh, David Strathairn! I'm your biggest fan! I loved you in Sneakers." I didn't say anything dumb like that, and he didn't have to think anything like, "Yeah right, douche bag. You're the biggest fan. Ummhmm. Oh, Sneakers, eh? That was 15 years ago, schmuck!"
The way things went, I was just some guy in an airport acknowledging and respecting the presence of a skilled artist. I like that.
Suffice it to say he's not one of those actors that's gonna show up in Star magazine. I like him because he's in one of my favorite movies. He plays Whistler in Sneakers. If you haven't seen it, maybe a name-drop will interest you. He co-stars with Robert Redford, Sidney Poitier, Dan Akroyd, River Phoenix, Mary McDonnell, Ben Kingsley, and Timothy Busfield. And it's a fun-ass movie to watch over and over.
Anyway, I'm just chillin' in Baltimore, waiting to get on the plane, and he walks up to the trashcan nearby and sets his coffee down. I recognized him almost instantly, then surprised myself by doing the whole nervous thing. I couldn't believe seeing an actor actually made me nervous. I know famous people are just people at the core, but there's something so surreal about seeing someone in the real world that you've seen over and over in a fictional world.
Flying Southwest, he boarded with Group A, I think. I boarded later. Once I sat down on the plane, I found him from the back of his head and just sort of glanced forward every once in a while to see what he was doing. He proved himself a person by just sitting there quietly, reading throughout the entire flight. From the moment I first noticed him, I caught his occasional glance around to see if anyone had spotted him. I don't think anyone ever noticed him. I sort of felt bad for him, but I'm sure he preferred it that way, even though I think a small part of him wanted to be recognized for the skill he has within his craft.
On the flight, having struck up conversation with my neighbor, I saw fit to divulge my secret to her. She didn't know who he was either. Then, once we landed, I had to wait for people to clear out so I could get my bag from an overhead bin that wasn't right next to my seat. He too waited for everyone else to deplane. He wasn't taking any chances getting noticed. I grabbed my stuff and walked off.
As I headed for the rental cars, I listened to my voice mail for messages from Emily. I had to pick her up at the train station later, and wanted to see if her train left on time. In the process of paying attention to her message, I passed the turn toward the rental cars, so I doubled back.
And who do you think approached the turn just as I did? None other than David Strathairn. When he caught up to me, I lowered my phone, turned to him, and said, "Hey, how's it going?"
At first, I think he thought I was talking on the phone, but he must've felt me looking, so he raised his head, and returned the greeting--sort of a shy, unsure "Hi." But as he continued on to baggage claim, I saw him smile. I don't know if he was smiling because he knew I had recognized him, or because he thought he had said hi to me mistakenly while I was on the phone. I get the impression he knew I had recognized David Strathairn, the actor, in an airport, which made me happy that I might have made him happy.
I could've said any number of things to him about his movies, but I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I didn't become the rambling moron. "Oh, David Strathairn! I'm your biggest fan! I loved you in Sneakers." I didn't say anything dumb like that, and he didn't have to think anything like, "Yeah right, douche bag. You're the biggest fan. Ummhmm. Oh, Sneakers, eh? That was 15 years ago, schmuck!"
The way things went, I was just some guy in an airport acknowledging and respecting the presence of a skilled artist. I like that.
07 September 2006
I hope it isn't temporary
In the past year, living in such a small apartment (made smaller by wedding presents, a brother-in-law, and a second dog), I've noticed what a disorganized pile my life can be when I'm busy elsewhere. In the past week though, I've been trying to slow my life down some. I'm taking the Tri-Rail more, hardly working any hours at the lab, and focusing my energy on staying active. When something requires my action or attention, I just freakin' do it, instead of waiting until it really needs me.
We only have one sink in the dishwasher-less kitchen, so the dishes used to pile up as fast as the pile of junk mail on the kitchen table. Now though, Lucas (brother-in-law) and I are washing dishes almost as soon as we dirty them. My bedroom is still a pretty nasty mess, but the other parts of the apartment keep me sane. The kitchen table, where I do most of my school work, has stayed clean. Even if clutter does collect there, I know I can reserve a corner of it for my laptop.
I must say, cleanliness is my new top boy. It's a routine I've never been able to practice, but hopefully one I can learn. I stay a lot calmer when I don't see clutter everywhere, and calmness is of great value to this poor college student.
My only hope is that I don't jynx myself with this blog, because good luck is just as important to me. I now know I'm capable of overcoming the chaos bred by my possessions, but divine disorder handed down as a major computer meltdown or a Cat-5 hurricane might turn me into a gyroscope. If that happens, I guess all I can do is take it Job-style and be like, "I don't fuckin' care. Go ahead, God. Blow my shit all over the place. See if I care!" And then I'll reach into my pocket, pull out my USB stick, thrust it high into the air as I leap and shout, "I've got a fuckin' flashdrive, bitch!"
We only have one sink in the dishwasher-less kitchen, so the dishes used to pile up as fast as the pile of junk mail on the kitchen table. Now though, Lucas (brother-in-law) and I are washing dishes almost as soon as we dirty them. My bedroom is still a pretty nasty mess, but the other parts of the apartment keep me sane. The kitchen table, where I do most of my school work, has stayed clean. Even if clutter does collect there, I know I can reserve a corner of it for my laptop.
I must say, cleanliness is my new top boy. It's a routine I've never been able to practice, but hopefully one I can learn. I stay a lot calmer when I don't see clutter everywhere, and calmness is of great value to this poor college student.
My only hope is that I don't jynx myself with this blog, because good luck is just as important to me. I now know I'm capable of overcoming the chaos bred by my possessions, but divine disorder handed down as a major computer meltdown or a Cat-5 hurricane might turn me into a gyroscope. If that happens, I guess all I can do is take it Job-style and be like, "I don't fuckin' care. Go ahead, God. Blow my shit all over the place. See if I care!" And then I'll reach into my pocket, pull out my USB stick, thrust it high into the air as I leap and shout, "I've got a fuckin' flashdrive, bitch!"
04 September 2006
Welcome to September, me!
September means something unusual this year. I've known for months that these first two weeks of September might be stressful, but I think they'll turn out quite nicely in the end.
Emily and I went to the wedding of Brandon and Shendi this past weekend. I only knew half a dozen people there, but we still had some fun drinking and dancing. It was good to see friends I don't get to see very often. And next weekend, I see different friends I haven't seen in a while. Plus, I'm such a sucker for weddings in general.
I have lots of work to do before I hop on the plane next Saturday morning, but I have all week to take care of it. Emily is visiting her friend Megan this week, so I can stay up late working on assignments. The apartment will also seem a little empty. I admit that sleeping alone in a bed is pretty fun every once in a while, but I imagine I'll miss her being next to me before the week is over.
As for school, I think I'm going to like this semester. I'll probably be busier than past semesters, but in a good way. By taking three workshops-- all not of the fiction variety-- I am broadening my influences not only through what I read, but also in how I write. The health of fiction as an art form seems to be on a gradual decline with nonfiction on the rise. I'm hoping this semester teaches me a thing or two about how I can do my part to give fiction a thump in the chest.
Emily and I went to the wedding of Brandon and Shendi this past weekend. I only knew half a dozen people there, but we still had some fun drinking and dancing. It was good to see friends I don't get to see very often. And next weekend, I see different friends I haven't seen in a while. Plus, I'm such a sucker for weddings in general.
I have lots of work to do before I hop on the plane next Saturday morning, but I have all week to take care of it. Emily is visiting her friend Megan this week, so I can stay up late working on assignments. The apartment will also seem a little empty. I admit that sleeping alone in a bed is pretty fun every once in a while, but I imagine I'll miss her being next to me before the week is over.
As for school, I think I'm going to like this semester. I'll probably be busier than past semesters, but in a good way. By taking three workshops-- all not of the fiction variety-- I am broadening my influences not only through what I read, but also in how I write. The health of fiction as an art form seems to be on a gradual decline with nonfiction on the rise. I'm hoping this semester teaches me a thing or two about how I can do my part to give fiction a thump in the chest.
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