Daisy still drops by from time to time, but you can sense her disappointment every time Gertie doesn't come out the door, and she doesn't stick around very long.
Last night I was taking my evening stroll and bumped into a couple of neighbors, who inquired about the identity of the large boxer mix that was standing a couple of yards down, barking at them. After I identified that dog, they said, "Well what about that pit bull?"
We don't have any free-roaming pit bulls in our neighborhood. Turns out that this one had showed up yesterday, and was following folks around when they were outside. I told my neighbors I didn't know of any pit bulls, and joked about putting the cat inside, then finished my walk.
Later, Hublet was taking out the trash, when he stuck his head in the door and said, "The cat's in, right? 'Cause that pit bull's out here."
I went outside, and sure enough, there was a fully-grown, un-neutered, solid white pit bull on my sidewalk. He was still wearing the invisible fence shock collar, but there was no other collar on him.
And boy, was he happy to see me! He was wagging and wiggling and trotted right over and sniffed my hand and let me pet his MASSIVELY MUSCLED HEAD. He looked a bit thin, and had drunk all the water I'd left out for the cat, so I got him another bowl to drink, and thought about trying to corral him. But he finished the water and ran off before I could do anything, and so I headed inside to post a "has anyone misplaced a pit bull?" message on the community message board. My neighbors had said something about animal control, so I didn't call them.
I don't have any experience with pit bulls beyond the horror stories you read in the paper, and I have to admit I was a bit nervous about having a stray wandering the neighborhood. Seeing him up close and personal, and looking at those jaws, didn't really do much to make me feel better, even though he was a friendly pooch. All I could think about was, "That dog could eat my face clean off with one medium-sized chomp."
And also? Who in their right mind would think that a teeny tiny shock collar and invisible fence was gonna work on an animal that size? He probably got startled by a firecracker, or a nearby dog was in heat, or maybe there was a really nifty squirrel nearby, and off he went.
I'm beginning to feel as though my home is some sort of hobo stop for wayward animals, strays or not. We have a steady stream of dog traffic on a daily basis, lived through the Random Great Dane incident of Aught five, the Random Cat Hitchhiker previous to that, and our cat followed Hublet home one day and just stuck around. Apparently Hublet has the Magical Cat Attractor Vibe, and dogs just like our yard, or something.
Ah, country living. As long as I don't end up with any random crowing-challenged roosters, like the neighbor behind us did, I guess I can deal.
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Have some Joss Whedon intarweb fun! Neil Patrick Harris! Cute 13 minute episodes with singing! And Nathan Fillion! And a pseudo-villain named "Moist!"
And also, because it's thematically in keeping with my day thus far: the fail blog.
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Look, there's a difference between idle fantasy of the "she's hot/he's hot" variety and sending long, drawn-out, "Dear Penthouse Forum, you'd never believe what happened to me last Tuesday" style emails to your friend about them.
Side question for the menfolk - is emailing your buddies about your sexual fantasies just an everyday occurrence, or does that strike you as decidedly odd? And creepy, but let's just stick with odd for now.
I thought women were supposed to be all about the oversharing, but I can pretty much guarantee that I would never terrify my friends and accquaintances that way. Ick.
But back to my main point, which is this: some of the commenters are all up in arms like this is some sort of witch hunt. Look, first of all, it is not cool to surf porn on university computers. Period. We've fired quite a few folks for that behavior, although the firings here have tended to skew toward the staff side, not the faculty side. It's not a quesion of intellectual freedom, or freedom of speech, people.
Secondly, because this is a bit more subjective, this dude's emails are just disturbing, and not in that "eek! Protect my puritan eyes!' kind of way, but in the "Hey little girl, want some Caaaaaannnndy?" kind of way. And to the commenter who left the flip quote about the damage of Victorian mores--uh, seriously? I thought the point was that the professor was so completely sexually UN-repressed that he felt no compunction about spending office hours indulging his proclivities. Victorian mores, in this case, could have helped him refrain from hitting the "send" button, and thus helped him keep his job.
Bottom line: It's fine to be a creepy weirdo in your private life, but "tenure" doesn't equal "Let fly the work porn!"
]]>Yes, apparently I have had enough free time to sit on my posterior watching other people play video games on television, but for the most part this summer has been nothing but a blur. Last week, Hublet started a three-week course on writing here at the University, and The Boy wanted to go to vacation bible school at his buddy's church up the road, plus he had swim lessons, so our days looked something like this:
7:00 a.m. - Get up. Bathe, dress, make breakfast taco for Boy.
8:00 a.m. - Drop Boy at friend's house, where friend's mother kindly offered to tote him to bible school and look after him until Hublet could retreive him.
8:30 a.m. - Arrive at work. Oh, a giant PR crisis. Awesome.
5:30 p.m. - Traffic.
6:00 p.m. - Eat leftovers, make next evening's meal, wait for Hublet to return with Boy from swimming lessons.
7:00 - 9:00 p.m. - Deal with swimming lesson aftermath, re-feed hungry Boy, get him into bed.
9:00 p.m. - Exercise.
9:30 p.m. - 12:30 a.m. - Get everything ready for next day at work, including laundry, finishing up the kitchen cleanup, etc. Relax for an hour with a glass of wine.
Lather, rinse, repeat. Meanwhile Hublet was the designated pack mule, going to class, rushing home, retrieving Boy from friend's house, getting him fed and getting him to a 6:00 p.m. swim lesson.
Then on Friday, just for variety, The Boy's friend fell off the monkey bars at vacation bible school and broke his arm. And The Boy had a birthday party to attend in Raleigh. So Hublet drove to Raleigh for class, drove back home to retrieve Boy from his buddy's grandma's house (long story involving relatives, random kid shuffling, and ER visit for Boy's buddy), and then BACK to Raleigh to the Putt-Putt. I merely stayed in town from 8:30 a.m. until 9:00 p.m., when not even the consumption of a giant pixie stick could sustain The Boy's energy level.
This week, we're gonna do it all over again, and then we're going to drive 2 hours to grandma's house on Friday night!
However, we will have a kid-free week following this one, during which we will just flop limply onto the sofa and stare at each other, shell-shocked.
Oh, and we'll go see the new Batman movie. And then go to Carowinds to pick up The Boy the following Sunday.
Sigh.
How much longer until school starts?
]]>Of course you don't, because you don't know where I live--and if you do know, and were hiding in the shrubbery, I would prefer that you didn't mention it, because that's just creepy.
But I digress from my main point, which is this:
I have become another lost couch potato with a rotting brain.
How? Well, it's simple. I actually stayed up past midnight last night to watch the Championship Gaming Series. On television. Yes, I sat in my chair and watched other people playing video games ON TELEVISION.
And I was actually invested in whether or not Mystik would beat Pheonix in their epic Dead or Alive battle.
I do not own Dead or Alive. I do not own the console the game was being played on. I do not know these people from Adam. And yet, on a Monday night in July in the year 2008, I sat on my butt in a chair and watched random chicks play a video game.
Weep for me.
]]>It might not seem like much, but I really, REALLY love our July Fourth celebration.
Oh, and might I add that I agree with this guy - can we maybe lay off the relentless END OF DAYS AMERICA IS DOOOOOOOOMMMMMMEEEEDDDD OMGWTFBBQ!!! for a day or two?
Seriously, people. I only have the best interests of the authors in mind - can you imagine how exhausting it must be to spend all of your time contemplating the end of all your time? Everyone needs a vacation now and then, even the doomsayers.
]]>"Allegations that a local Democratic official and her husband were involved in satanic rituals that included shackling people to beds, caging them and depriving them of food and water have horrified county party leaders."
Okay, maybe an alternate explanation could be that the devil made them do it...
Best quote in the entire piece, though, is right here:
"McCullough would not release details of the allegations, but he added, 'I don't want to leave the impression this is a widespread thing.'"
To which I can only reply a) I should hope not, and b) it's an election year and it's still early. Just wait.
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"Perhaps we initiate and perpetuate interdepartmental fights in order to keep boredom at bay. Not that we do that consciously or calculatingly, but at some unrecognized level, aren't we itching for intensity? Tenured for life, we perhaps need the drama of conflict to inject the thrill of spontaneous emotion and extreme passion into our stable and predictable existences. Conflict might be our unacknowledged antidote for ennui.
"It might also be a cure for inconsequentiality. As a humanist, I am regularly asked to justify my seemingly arcane pursuits. And here's where conflict comes in handy. If academics as a group are fundamentally uncertain about the value of their activities, then fighting tooth and nail over the specifics of those activities implicitly attests to their value. Anger offers us a palpable form of validation. If we can get so worked up about our policies and practices that we are willing to scream at one another, then those policies and practices must be important and world altering, right?"
It continues in this vein. Again, an entertaining article, partly because of the unintentional humor provided by an english professor taking 20 paragraphs to say "the battles are so fierce because the stakes are so low." Hee.
]]>Well, that about covers it. Except to say that after I arrived home yesterday I made a brief jaunt to the ABC store, where I procured a large bottle of Gray Goose vodka. I may even mix it with other liquids!
UPDATE: Want Hublet's take on the trip? It's here, and I'll bet you can guess which quote is mine pretty easily...
The Love Guru, which apparently is responsible for the death of hope in America. Seriously. I've read pans before, but never have I seen this much vitriol. Which review to quote? The one that describes it as "anti-funny," which is mild, or the one accusing Mike Meyers of "putting a shotgun into the mouth of comedy and killing it?" Or maybe the podcast, wherein the reviewer seriously ponders whether or not Mike Meyers may be slightly retarded?
I was curious about Get Smart, which is one of my favorite shows ever, but it's looking like Netflix material. I am bummed out by this.
So I'm holding out for Wall-E. C'mon Pixar, save my summer!
]]>Seriously, how cool would it be to grow up in a home with adventure puzzles built in?
Check out the slideshow.
]]>Plus we survived a canceled flight, the almost-loss of one Knuffle Bunny on a rainswept tarmac, and a metric ton of baby vomit (and its attendant aroma) while trapped inside the plane on the flight back.
I am still tired, and next week Hublet, The Boy and I will be accompanying 16 15-year-old girls to the beach for three days.
Anyone got some good "girly drink" recipes to share? Red wine will not be strong enough to aid my recovery from these trips...
]]>However, I did not allow myself to go out in public looking as though I had put on a dress made from neon seatbelts, so life isn't all bad.
]]>Of course, the day is young.
The article resonated with me because I saw the writing on the wall back in '98 or so when I declined to pursue the Ph.D. I mean, why would I want to incur more debt and waste more years of my earning potential, merely to enter a ridiculously competitive job market where, even if I did secure a tenure-track position, I would spend the first decade merely trying to catch up financially? And that wasn't even considering tossing a family into the mix.
Incidentally, a fair number of my friends who went to law school came to this same conclusion, too late.
Since I've been hanging more on the science side of a research university lately, I've been able to see firsthand how badly the humanities are hurt by their inability to tap into the big grant dollars. I can't see a solution for them, though. And the financial realities of state-supported and land grant universities are also driving the adjunct train. The sciences can compensate with research money--the humanities can't.
And I don't think that state legislatures are going to stop and say, "Wait! We need to give a bunch of english professors eternal job security! Let's fund higher salaries!" It's more likely that they'll point to the Ward Churchills and the tenured former members of the Weather Underground in humanities departments--fairly or not--and say something like, "Why do these losers get a free ride?"
]]>Yesterday was The Boy's end of year awards ceremony, so I took the day off. My parents drove up from visiting friends in Charleston--yes, a 250 mile drive that started at the crack o' dawn: do not thwart my mother in her quest to be present for every significant moment in The Boy's life, for you will be defeated--and Hublet took half a day as well, all so that we could have the honor of videotaping the back of my child's head as he received his awards.
Afterward, we all came back to the house and took a power nap--except for The Boy, who alternated between playing Indiana Jones Adventrues on the Wii and watching the all-day Incredible Hulk marathon on the sci-fi channel.
God, I loved that show as a kid, and after watching about 6 episodes yesterday, I still kinda love it, for the reasons enumerated below:
Yep, I heart the Incredible Hulk. Wonder if it's available on Netflix?
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