I'm not broke but you can see the cracks

Here is an excellent essay on power of girls in HP: Meta by Mistful Very thought provoking. And funny.

In other news, dissertation writing continues at a good pace (2,000 brand new words yesterday, plus editing). I may actually make my goal (which I will not put in print as that will jinx it for certain sure), provided life doesn't take a sharp turn.

I was a year behind on SG1 until last month. And as of tonight I am 3 episodes behind and cannot believe it. How do these things happen?!

I just finished Dog Star by Diana Wynne Jones. I think she's my new favorite author. She's a clever writer, tells really unusual stories, and makes me happy. Dog Star is sad in a satisfying way. It's also an evocative and unpredictable story. And if you haven't read Howl's Moving Castle, you should make the effort. I know it's a juvie and books are expensive but it's worth reading (and re-reading, always the test of a good book, IMO).

Lastly, but in the tradition of saving the best bit for last, I want to sing the praises of bowdlerized who remixed my remus drabble. Go read To Get By. It's angsty!Remus at his most angst-laden.

Sometimes the adage the future is not fixed hits me over the head with an anvil. And not a soft, cushy, pillow-esque anvil, either. A big, hard, solid, you never know what's coming around the next corner anvil.
( cut for RL whining )

Today I caught a student plagiarizing. And not just a little here or there, either. This kid took the text of an entire freaking website. What clued me in was one little word in the phrase "allegedly had a vision." It was the "allegedly" that made me wonder what was up, given the I-know-nothing-about-christianity attitude this student displayed in class. The sentence just kept bugging me and finally I thought, just one quick check. One google search and two hours later, I've contacted my dept. chair, the dean of students and the student. I don't think I can face another paper with the open attitude required for the end of the semester grading marathon. This is not a day I love my job.

Or, Why Optimists Are Good for the Soul.

( I heard Archbishop Desmond Tutu give a talk tonight. )
Apologies to Mark -- there was only 1 ticket available or I would have taken you with me.

My office was full of students today. We just got back from Spring break and there was much rejoicing. But there were things I needed to do that so did not get done. Because there were students to talk to and that was much more enjoyable.

Thanks to destina and her teacher Sab, I have an avatar.

I have been watching tv tonight and I have to say it is much more fun than writing my diss. Though I do have a very strong embarrassment squick and it got a serious work out tonight. I hate to see people -- real or imagined people -- embarrass themselves in any circumstance. And that is why, while I enjoyed Century City (Ioan, nice accent!), I feel I must watch the next 2 episodes from the kitchen. Because -- my god, someone could have said something spoiler-ish -- I nearly died during the funeral scene. Died. As in, no longer breathing. From embarrassment. And that scene may have set my popslash fannish inclinations back a few years, too. That aside, Century City was pretty intriguing as lawyer dramas go. Leaving aside the embarrassing stuff, of course.

Also, I watched my first Keen Eddie episode tonight. gwyn_r's vid at Escapade made me curious (it's a great vid, whether you've seen the show or not) and I told Tivo to get the show for me. It's dead cute. Plus, the little british guy is hot and the show is edited in an unusual fashion. The story was amusing and clever. I can't wait for more.

In other news, I was all professional this weekend (Sunday and Monday) at a regional conference and am now rewarding myself with vanilla vodka and diet vanilla pepsi for a conference well attended. I was dressed up, uncomfortable shoes and all, for the entire conference. Sleep hasn't been my friend lately and my dreams have been all about dead family members. I kinda dread sleeping. Hopefully, in the wake of this fit of professionalism, I'll dream of historical theology tonight. Or maybe Captain Blood will appear in my dreams (what a great book! I can't believe I haven't read it before now).

Have you all read The Da Vinci Code? I've been listening to it during my commute and I'm just not certain if it's worth it. I'm on chapter 20-something and it's making me crazy. POssibly the problem is the guy reading it -- his french accent for Sophie is making me crazy. But I also don't love the story telling style. Is it worth the lame tell-not-show prose? Inquiring, intoxicated, post-modern minds want to know.

But why is the vodka gone?

Today a student in my Hist. of Xnty class played video games on her computer for the entire class. The students were supposed to be working out the historical context and theology in a primary source text in their groups, but she wasn't participating, she was playing her game. And I know it. And, at one point, she knew I knew it.

I ignored her. I congratulated the students who were putting effort into the exercise and continued to interact with them about the assignment. Even when she looked at me I didn't look at her directly again. I did not confront her nor did I acknowledge her. Two students mentioned to me after class that she was playing a game on her computer. I said, yeah, I know. Next time I'll put her in a smaller group and force her to work. But they weren't very satisfied with that and now, in hindsight, neither am I. It not only pisses me off, it sucks away my will to live and teach another day.

But I don't know what I should have done. I hate the public humiliation model of correcting student behavior and so that's right out. I'm thinking of pulling her aside next class and telling her to use her computer to take notes or leave it in her room, but that seems weak at this point. I pride myself on being an easy-going teacher, running a relaxed and inviting classroom and yet this is not only about disrespecting me, it's about disrespecting her colleagues in the class as well. What are your thoughts, dear flist? What did your profs do when someone was quietly screwing around during class?

Insomnia, an old and not much missed companion of mine, has returned. It was 4:30 last night the last time I saw the clock and the night before it was around 4 that I finally dropped off. All last week it was well after 3 before I crashed (literally). This is a terrible pattern because I can't fall asleep, I have tons of things to do the next day and then I cannot wake up. I have no brain function, I can't think and if I can't think, I certainly can't write. And writing is what this month is supposed to be about. So all in all, I'm in hell. I really blame winter, though I must confess my family situation has plenty to do with this. I just can't seem to let go of last month.

So, it's all stupid stuff that's keeping me up. Things I should be able to ignore or laugh off or let go of because I have no control over them. Instead I obsess, replaying conversations or situations until I am near tears. I've tried Tylenol PM and those don't knock me out. I tried tea, no caffeine after 3pm, and a heating pad for my feet. (I read someplace that if you're feet are warm, you relax and fall asleep. So far, I just have really warm feet and a happy cat because of the heating pad at the foot of the bed.) I have done creative visualization and re-read favorite, comforting books. This happens to me a few times a year and my experience is that one night, I'll just fall asleep and I will be back to a normal sleep pattern - just like that. But getting there is really a long road.

The 2003 meme gacked from [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]

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I live less than 3 miles from the Claremont fire line. Last night I could see flames shooting into the sky from my apartment balcony. My friend K thinks she lost her cabin to that fire that I could see so clearly. The reports she's been getting from Baldy Village are inconsistent so there is still some hope that the cabin is standing unharmed. I hope it is, oh so much. It would be a tremendous loss for her -- many of her books and personal objects are there. That cabin is her Fortress of Solitude. I share her fear of loss, if on a slightly different scale. I lived in that cabin for 18 months a few years ago. I still visit it periodically for a day of solitude and reflection or to meet K for conversation and relaxation. It's a special place, full of memories for many people, K especially. I hope it's ok.

Here are some aerial photos of the region (thanks to Mark for the link). It's positively apocalyptic outside -- there is a thin sheen of ash and soot on everything. The sun is an obscene orange color and the world has a yellow hue to it. The air has a texture, I can feel the particles on my skin and in my nose as I walk to the car or the mail. It's 81 degrees outside (according to my balcony thermometer) and the wind is still for the moment. What is most disturbing is that someone -- some person -- set this fire that has taken such a great toll on this area. Homes, animals, trees, plants -- all destroyed by malice aforethought. It is moments like this when I most doubt the possible goodness of human beings and I don't have a load of hope about that possibility to begin with.

destina is posting some information on the fire and the havoc it has caused in our area over the past few days. Though it's only been this weekend, the drama of the sky, air and view increase my feeling that it's never going to end. It's ghastly here. I feel for the relief workers and firefighters out there trying to make a difference. I hope they can. Tonight the flames are reduced to a dull orange glow. However, the Claremont fire has joined forces with another fire and the two are still moving through the San Bernardino Mountains. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

but all I really want to do is embrace my statistical (seeming) inevitability and read Dissipation and Despair, watch tv and turn my brain to jello.

Studies show that 50 percent of people [both men and women] who begin a doctorate drop out at the dissertation-writing stage. Statistic from Sistermentors.

I got up at 6:30 this morning and right now I have 6 loads of clean laundry and 3 sentences to show for it. I shoulda maybe slept in after all.