go-to questions

I'm at that really awkward stage of packing where I'm not quite living out of boxes but I'm not living in a normal apartment either.

My tiny apartment has exploded-- half-packed boxes cover every available floor space of the kitchen/living room and drawers are pulled halfway open, serving as a constant reminder of how much I still have to pack. Of course, everyone around here keeps asking how the packing is going. It's the new go-to question. Of course, this makes me think back to various go-to questions for different stages of life. You know, the question that you get asked several to dozens of times a day. The question to which you might not have an answer, or maybe you have a five sentence spiel memorized since you have to spout off dozens of times a day. When the former is the case, it only drives home the underlying message: that you are stuck in place and need to move forward.

Let's take a walk down go-to question lane:

senior year, high school: So, where are you going to college?

senior year, college: What are you doing next year?

first year, grad school: What research group are you going to join?

fourth year, grad school: When are you going to start writing?

fourth and a half year, grad school: What are you doing next year?

first year, visiting ass.: How are classes going?

first year, visiting ass.: What are you doing next year? (from faculty)

first year, visiting ass.: You're leaving? What would you want to leave (from students)


Luckily for me, I do have a job for the fall, so those last questions have an answer. I can move on from this visiting ass. position.

I can already anticipate the go-to questions from my future colleagues: How does this place compare to TempCollege?

What go-to questions have you encountered?



scientiae-carnival

Committed?

In a week, I'll be with N.A. Forever. (muhahahaha) We've lived together before, but not in such final terms. Final meaning our stuff is now meshed together, we both have permanent jobs (chemistry gods willing), and we'll have a joint lease.

Clearly, it is time for the next step. We are ready for the ultimate commitment.

I've been waiting for it for awhile, and finally N.A. popped the question (over the phone):

"Unbal, would you like to sign up for a joint cell phone plan with me?"




If only we had a camera to immortalize the moment, but alas... he popped the question over the phone.

Post-semester letdown?

I've heard that actors experience a huge letdown (some call it depression) after a play ends. Since teaching a class is a production onto itself, I shouldn't have been that surprised that I would have similar feelings after the semester concluded.

Don't agree that a college class is analogous to something seen on the The Great White Way? Consider this: the students are our audience (although hopefully more participatory than a typical Broadway crowd), lecture notes serve as a script, the professor (ME) is constantly performing, improvisation is often frequently employed, and, if things go particularly well, you can receive rave reviews.

In the week after the semester ended, I was too exhausted to think about anything but GET ME SLEEP. After a few nights of 10 solid hours of sleep, I was feeling myself again...almost. Something was a little off. I don't know if it was because I felt guilt for not working as much as during the semester (so in my office from 8:30 am to 10:00 pm and then more grading from 10:30 pm until at least 12:30 am) or sadness because I knew I would never see these students again, but I felt really off.

Is this a normal feeling to experience after the academic year ends? Is it just because it was my first year and so I'm seeing my first graduation, or is this something that will happen ever year?

Don't toss that-- give it to an undergrad

Like I've said before, I hate moving. I despise how much time it takes. I have a strong aversion to change.

But most of all, I really, really dislike throwing away perfectly good stuff--food, half-used cleaning supplies, hangers, paper...the list goes on and on.

When I move, I move really far distances and with just my car, so things like cleaning supplies and food are usually sacrificed to make room for, say, my clothes and books. I'm not the kind of person to get to know my neighbors, so it's hard to find a new home for a half bottle of toilet bowl cleaner, an unwanted lamp, or a broom. So often they go discarded.

But.

Cue Undergrads!

The best thing about moving away from a small college town is that said small college town is full of Undergrads! Lots and lots of 'em! Even in the summer! And summer research students are even better because they are usually more in need! Yay for poor Undergrads! They happily take light bulbs, a lamp, coffee beans, or frozen meals off your hands. Have a 3/4 full bottle of hand soap, a house plant, or extra paper towels taking up valuable car space? There's no need to fear, poor Undergrads are here!

Hmmm....if I can free up enough space, I wonder what fun, new stuff I could bring with me....

Memorialize THIS!

Did you know that Memorial Day is coming up? I do!

Know why?

Because EVERY SINGLE service department from human resources to the dining services sent out an email today to inform me (and the rest of the faculty email list) this.

Clearly I need to reevaluate my email filters.

Linkage: You will thank me

Okay, so Professor Anonymous wrote a superfab (yeah, a said it) post the other day about summer classes with....wait for it.... lyrics about summer teaching set to "Summer Nights" from Grease.

Feel free to swoon onto your lab bench at any time.


While you are there, be sure to check out the list of key terms in the header. Excellent summer reading.

Scary TV

I've been on my couch, eating bon-bons, and watching TV for the last four hours. I know-- rough life.

I've been watching some episodes of Flip Your House. That is some scary shit. Watching the short cuts that these lowlives take is more frightening than most of the other reality offerings (even worse than Birth Control Central).

Oops, Survivor* finale is on, gotta run.






*Yes, I watch reality TV. I *DARE* you to tell me why I shouldn't.