Fall "Break"

What is the sound of one fall breaking?
If you spend even, say, two hours, or perhaps, say ten, grading, then is it really a "break" or is it, as one colleague claimed, just an opportunity to catch up and, if so, then is it a "break"? Well, is it?
If, for example, you spend the first half-hour of said break trying to decide if you should turn the furnace on, then is it really a "fall" break or have you somehow, rapidly and inexplicably, fallen down a slippery slope that would more appropriately be deemed "winter"? Or, perhaps, is there another season between fall and winter, fwinter, and is that what we should be calling this weather that vacillates, schizophrenically, between hail and sunshine? (and wind, let's not forget the wind, lest it punish us by blowing more, and more hard. Harder.)
What, then, are the approved activities for this fwinter non-break? Grading, sure, that's one. Watching shows (any & all) on Hulu, two. Drinking wine, three (but only for today, because then, lo, the crazy October challenge begins and all fun is banned. Banned!). Hiking with dog? Maybe, if it stops hailing! Four. All indoor exercises, that's five.
I need at least ten things that aren't grading. Movies? Check. Reading? Maybe. But it might be for class. Okay, TV, that's never for class (unless I call it "research"). Dog outings, yes. Trips to Park City? Depends on the weather. Eating out? What with this challenge, let's just say no. Shoving my face with approved food items? Yes. Working out just so I can drink chocolate milk? Hell yes.
Hey, if you are only allowed one vice (chocolate milk....okay, coffee...that's two. And working out, three), you are damned sure going to work it. Or I am. Yes, I mean, I AM.
Now I just have to come up with three fitness goals for the month.
One bright spot? When it strikes midnight on Halloween, I'm going to eat some candy. I get to define "some."
Fall break? What?

Another Thursday, Another TV

So, here's what happens on Thursday:

1. I teach. But it's only one class. Question: How to get the students to f*%&ing talk about poetry?? huh??
2. I "have office hours" and by this I mean, sit in writing center and talk to students or former students. Whatever.
3. Go home. Today, I did this in a round about way that involved going to the wine store, doing the car swap with MB, having lunch at a Thai place (bringing home take out for dinner!), and catching a bus home.
4. Maybe co-op at Son's school or maybe go home to do whatever. Today was a whatever day that included finishing "The Big Clock," doing stuff on-line, napping, etc.
5. Eat take-out.
6. Try to get Son to bed in a way that doesn't interfere with "The Office" and "30 Rock." Don't I have my priorities straight? TV first!!
7. Watch "The Office" and "30 Rock."
8. Flip between "ER" and "Private Practice" getting attached to neither and secretly being mildly interested in both.
9. Watch the last episode of "Lipstick Jungle" on-line. Mourn for the loss of trashy TV until (maybe?) more episodes appear next year.
10. Check email, do Facebook, etc etc, finally sleep.
    

At Last: A Loss For Words

At this point in the semester I want to say to my students: Go away. Just go and write your final paper and stop complaining and leave me alone. What do I have to say to them? Nothing.
It is with this loss of language that I approach blogging today. I wish I had something funny to report (nothing. Wait! I did spill chicken vegetable soup all over myself today!).
I'm not sure if it is the late Thanksgiving break, the two day work week, my sinus problems, the pre-finals blahs or some combination, but I am finding it hard to care about anything except chocolate, beer and/or wine, and TV. Oh wait! And potato chips. Seriously. I feel like I could watch hours and hours of TV. But the TV is not cooperating. There is nothing trashy on! What's wrong? (should I be blogging that at TWIT?)
Sigh. What I need is a good mystery novel and a solid month off. I am still trying to figure out what it is about teaching, specifically, that exhausts one so. What is it?

Staying In

Sometimes, after an exhausting week, it's nice to stay in, which is what we did last night. We watched Mellouli of Tunisia beat the favorite in the men's 1500m Freestyle and win the first Tunisian swimming medal. We watched Phelps win his eighth gold (Son and I were chanting "USA! USA!" as they brought it home), and we watched Dara Torres win silver. I am a little irritated that no one is really talking about how Natalie Coughlin has won more medals than any other American female swimmer, because Phelps overshadows all. You can see it all for yourself here.
But oh well.
MB and I drank the expensive wine I bought him for our anniversary. As we were finishing it, MB said, "I won't regret paying so much for this wine. I regret other things, but not that." It was good wine. I even took a picture of it. Maybe I'll post it someday. We also watched some "Battlestar Galactica."
We are both neck deep in syllabi construction, deconstruction and reconstruction. It's hard to think about what we're going to do in class after Thanksgiving when right now it's still August, and, frankly, a little bit hot. It all seems so very abstract. But come Wednesday it will be oh so real. Actually it will be real on Tuesday, but I don't want to think about that now.
I'm going to work, ever so briefly, on my course websites. Then I'm going to talk Son in to listening to some more Harry Potter. It turns out that I am not crazy and that Jim Dale, who reads the books, IS also the narrator for "Pushing Daisies." Have I mentioned how happy I am that I am now seeing promos for all my favorite shows which are indeed returning to my TV this fall?
Which shows, you ask? So far I have seen promos for "The Office," "Pushing Daisies," and, yes, "Lipstick Jungle." Before you laugh, I have one thing to say: Brooke Shields. And that sexy Brit who plays her husband. Okay, that was more than one thing. But I'm allowed. I'm a teacher on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Good thing I'm staying in!

Where's Dr. Write?

I know you have been fretting, thinking to yourself, "Where's Dr. Write? What could have happened to her? Why isn't she blogging?"
Well, I hate to tell you, but nothing exciting has been going on. For one week I was in Pinetop/Lakeside Arizona at a condo with my mother and her husband, my sister, ErinAlice and her family, Middlebrow & Son. It was great fun hanging out in the pines where it was very cool, it rained nearly every day, I wore the same sweatshirt for a week, we over-hiked (meaning we thought we were going to hike 6 but really we hiked 9.5), we engaged in all kinds of sports (miniature golf, fishing, swimming, ping pong, basketball, pool, hiking, tennis), and the liquor flowed like water sometimes as early as noon! Unheard of! We also watched our share of cable, including "Deadliest Catch" which is strangely addictive, and plenty of HGTV.
Then we stopped, too briefly, at Otterbutt's, where we hung out, ate, did some hiking, and adored her beautiful and amusing daughter. Also drank sufficient amounts. Also experienced more torrential rain. Also watched "Flip This House!" Vacation = Cable.
What else? I read the first in the His Dark Materials trilogy. (Loved it!) Finished Cloudsplitter. Finally!!
Also saw "Mamma Mia." Ridiculous and totally entertaining. How could you not love a movie that has Meryl Streep AND Pierce Brosnan AND Colin Firth AND Julie Walters? I tell you how: it's impossible. You can't.
I also started running again and am running two races in the next two months. I started swimming again, and I went to the tennis workout. (News flash: my backhand still sucks!) Also I went for a hike (not too long) with Sylvia and Gus (who was very well behaved! He's a champ!).
Next week we are going to Island Park, which as you know from our friend Hightouchmegastore, may or may not be heaven. I'll give you my verdict when we return. So much depends upon the density of the mosquitoes and the quality of the margaritas.
Pretty soon, I'll have to face reality and work on my syllabi. But for now, there's a Corona in the freezer with my name on it.

The Sublime Appeal of Sherlock Holmes

Why do I love him so?
His heroin habit, his rough talk to Dr. Watson,
the way he finds a mystery within a mystery
we didn’t even know was there? In “A Solitary
Bicyclist” a woman is merely afraid of being followed.
But that’s to my untrained eye. Holmes sees
the larger mystery, the greed in men’s hearts
and the lust in their souls. If they have souls.
I’d guess that Holmes doesn’t believe in the soul,
because he can find no evidence of it on his
shirt sleeve, it leaves behind no residue, it can’t be
tested for. Holmes believes in numbers, and facts,
and, it turns out, boxing. He calls a clean left
“delicious” and sips his scotch. One wonders
about the exact nature of Holmes' relationship
to Watson, but perhaps that is too twenty-first
century. Watson marries eventually, Holmes dies,
but then returns, just like the villain in one of his mysteries.
Holmes tells Watson he is supremely unhelpful,
and I can’t help but think he’s telling the truth.
Is it always best to tell the truth? Holmes might say yes,
but here our minds diverge. Perhaps it is best to tell
an approximation of the truth, the way Holmes
remade himself as a beggar or an old man, so as to
sidle up to the suspect or the victim, to get a closer look,
a better angle, to surprise the truth unawares. I believe
Holmes might agree, though not directly. He would nod,
and say perhaps. Best not to commit oneself. He could
unriddle clues disguised as chimera, but tricked himself
last, the truth disguised as needle, as alchemy, as getting
away with it, though it, in the end, was getting away with him.

And Finally....Some Good News!

In addition to being my last day of composition teaching this semester (hooray! hooray! F**ing hooray!), I received some very, very, VERY good news today. My manuscript is at the publisher's, and the much anticipated, very delayed letter has been typed up. AND my manuscript actually went to first readers two weeks ago. I am so very, very, VERY relieved. I think I already celebrated last night, before I knew, with a few glasses of wine (Tuesdays can be hard!) and a few episodes of "Weeds." (The verdict: already addicted, already in love with M.L.P.)
So, I can breathe a huge sigh of relief. And then get grading so I can actually celebrate next week when I am done with everything and I turn 29. Again.

Favorite Lines

Listen: it's late and I'm not that creative. So, I give you my two favorite lines from my nightly ritual, first an episode of "Pushing Daisies" then an episode of "Samantha Who?" You know, the best thing about TV ala the computer is that you can make your own lineups and there is always something you want to watch on!
Pushing Daisies: When a widow asks Ned how he knows how her husband died he says, "DNA. ish."
Samantha Who: Okay, honestly? I can't remember the line now. Which is ironic, I know. I think it was in the bar when she said something about wanting to help the little people and her shallow friend thought she meant dwarves. Maybe I'll think of it tomorrow.
*Update: here's the line. I had to go on-line and surf through the episode. So, yes, Samantha says she wants to quit her job, because she doesn't like it, so she can help "the little people." Her shallow friend says if everyone asked themselves if they were happy, they would all quit their jobs, "and the economy would collapse by morning. And how is that helping the dwarves?"
But I have to go to bed now, because supposebly I am getting up at 6 to exercise, but don't bet on that.
*Update: I did not get up at 6, but at 6:50. I went to the gym and ran two miles on the treadmill.

The Secrets of Isis

I was talking with some friends last night about TV. I asked if anyone remembered Isis. Of course it was another woman who remembered. The first female live action superhero!!
What? You don't remember Isis?
The same friend also reminded me of Shazam! Another gem of Saturday morning TV in the 70s.
Here's what I remember: eating Cream of Wheat (made with milk not water!) with lots of butter and brown sugar. Sitting in the basement watching TV all Saturday morning until American Bandstand came on. Remember "it's got a good beat and I can dance to it. I give it a ten"?
Well. That's what's on my mind today.
And, apparently, I confused Isis with She-Ra: Princess of Power, which was a cartoon. I must have watched it.
If I had more time, I'd dress as Isis for Halloween. As it is, I will go with my traditional costume of Tired Mother.

Twit: new blog

Hey! Come join us over at Twit: Where Big Minds Take on the Small Screen. So far there have been a flurry of posts, as is typical with the new blog (yeah!). So much shinier and more fun than the old blog (boo!).
If you want to be invited, just drop me a line. I tried to invite everyone I thought would want to post/be involved. But you have to post. And it doesn't necessarily have to reflect the "big minds" (i.e. intellectual) but if you are involved, that means you have a big mind (because you're so smart to want to blog with us). And it does have to be about the small screen.

Name That TV Blog

What shall we call our new TV blog? We are going to create one, and we will invite you if, IF, you agree to blog once a week. Maybe we'll give you time off for grading. Maybe.
My idea is: Twit (but the W is made up of two vees, one for T "v", get it?) but we're not twits. It's for TV wit. We are witty, right?
Ideas:

For HighTouch: Why the American Version of "The Office" is so much better than the British

First of all, to get this out of the way, let me just admit that I am a huge fan of the British series "The Office." In fact, I resisted watching the American version because I just didn't think it could live up to the British.
It is a well known fact in my household and in other parts of the United States that the Brits are just funnier than Americans. In general, this is true. I think it is caused by their flavorless cuisine and their far superior beer, but it could also be attributed to the sogginess of their environs, which leads to wet socks, and everyone knows that causes one to make dry and acerbic comments. I'm sure there are Brits who are not funny, but I don't know what rock they are hiding under. Let me also say that one of my favorite office moments is when Tim puts Gareth's stapler in gelatin (since it's England it's not Jello, or maybe it is).
That said, the American version has far surpassed the British version, in my heart if not in reality. Partly this may be a function of the length of the series. The American version is beginning its fourth season, and the British version was only two, plus the bonus special. The additional seasons have allowed for more character development.
In the British version, the minor characters remained minor characters, colorful, funny, but never wholly human. In the American version, as the seasons have progressed, minor characters have come to the front, so that "The Office" is not just the story of Michael, Dwight, Pam and Jim, but also the story of Toby, Phyllis, Angela, Kevin, Kelly, Ryan, Creed, Oscar, and Roy (etc. I know I'm leaving some out). And this, I contend, is what makes the American "Office" a superior television product. If a series is to survive, it can't simply be funny. It must be funny, yes, but it has to be funny with heart. I know veteran readers of this blog will balk at my use of this word, but I mean it. "The Office" has been engaging my emotions, and not just on the Pam and Jim front. (I will admit here that I was obsessed, in every sense of the word, with Pam and Jim when I finished watching Season 2 and was waiting for Season 3 to come out on DVD. I googled the actors and found out all I could. I looked for pictures online. What was I going to do????)
The greatest surprise, and reward, of Season 3 has been the emergence of my favorite sub-character: Toby. And the fact that Roy becomes more than just the "bad boyfriend." And the episode when Michael shows up at Pam's art show and buys her watercolor of the office building for the office is truly touching. And this is what elevates Michael Carrell's character above his British equivalent. Even though David Brent is witty, and, we guess, ultimately a nice guy, we get to see that Michael is a nice guy; in spite of his being an ass in many situations, ultimately he does care about his employees. And I think the decision to humanize Roy was a good one. He moves beyond the stereotype of the boyfriend who only cares about sports to become a person.
And Toby! My favorite scene is when he must accompany Michael to New York for the salary negotiation. Ryan and Kelly are fighting in the cubicle next to his and Michael tells him he has to go with him. When Toby asks why, Michael says, "I'm going to hit you in the head with a hammer." Toby listens to the fighting for a minute, then picks up his bag and follows Michael.
I notice that I have not yet mentioned the cringe factor, which adds to the appeal of "The Office" but I fear I have overstayed my welcome. I'll leave that for another post.

Nothing + Nothing = Nothing

Here's an update on what I've been doing: nothing. Well not strictly nothing, but nothing productive. Son was supposed to be in a language camp this week, but there were not enough people signed up, so it was canceled. Which means that we've been holed up, plus MB's computer troubles, so you can probably imagine for yourselves the domestic drama that we've been embroiled in.
What have I been obsessing over this week? Thanks for asking. My current obsessions are

1. Entourage
2. The Sopranos
3. The Office, and all that entails: John Krasinski, Evan Almighty, Toby, etc.
4. Studio 60: Why does it have to end, sob, sob, etc.
5. New Music: I need some, I'm getting bored, etc.
6. I'm not writing
7. Maybe writing doesn't matter, after all, when I'm dead, I'll be dead, not looking down from above saying "Look how much everyone enjoys my writing!"
8. Swimming
9. Running (I'm doing a 5K on Saturday)
10. Reading shallow things
11. Disliking successful writers whom I won't name, but who might have some talent, but also get things published in magazines, like The New Yorker, for example, not because they are good, but because of who they are.

So now you're up to date. I hate everyone who's not blogging, by the way. Please blog and save me from my shallow reading and self-loathing.