Test Time

I gave my first exam last week and all 158 enrolled students showed up (plus 1 extra student who appears to have dropped the class before the test, but came and took it anyway.) I considered this a miracle, since it never happened when I taught large classes at BYU. There, the students go to a testing center (a large room with hundreds of desks where proctors roam up and down the aisles all day) anytime during a 2 or 3 day period to take the test. If it is scantron test, it is graded when they leave and they get a printout with their score. Invariably, someone would show up to my office after the test ended and tell me they forgot to go take it.

Now I am dealing with the complaints (generally revolving around the fact that I didn't give partial credit for incorrect answers). Some of them are pretty inventive, but I won't reprint them here, because I don't want to get dooced (definition: to get fired from your job for blogging about sensitive work details).

Anyway, teaching is pretty fun. Sometimes students come during my office hours just to shoot the breeze. In most of my lectures, I spend most of the time working out problems on the board with them, which I like (and which they seem to like better than powerpoint slides). Semesters seem so much longer than quarters, though. I've been teaching for 5 weeks already and at Stanford, they are just starting fall quarter this week. Five weeks down, eleven to go.

Early Riser

Ever since I got back from the east coast on Monday, I've been going to bed early (between 9 and 10:30) and waking up early. This morning I got up and did two loads of laundry, baked some crab cakes, oiled my countertop, watched a morning news show, and took out the trash before leaving for work at 8:45. I feel so productive. Now I'm at school blogging instead of working, which is hurting my average productivity immensely, but oh well.

Unfortunately, the first time I stay up until midnight and sleep in until 9am, it will be all over and I won't be able to fall asleep early anymore. What is need is some good relaxation techniques. Or sleeping pills.

I'm also coming to the frightening realization that I'm on the 9-end of the 'most people need 7-9 hours of sleep per night.' I don't want to need 9 hours of sleep. I don't like going to bed early (and my husband doesn't like going to be early) and I feel crummy when I sleep in late. But when I don't set my alarm (which is always) I sleep for about 9 hours. Maybe I need a more comfy bed so that I can get more quality (and less quantity) sleep. Has anyone tried one of those Tempurpedic-type (memory-foam) beds?

Lock the Door, Please

On my trip over the weekend, I used the bathroom in the plane twice. Both times, the sign on the door said the bathroom was vacant. Both times, the bathroom wasn't vacant. When I opened the door, the person inside yelped and pulled it shut.

Finding and securing the lock inside an airplane bathroom is not rocket science. Given that it keeps your fellow passengers from opening the door when you have your pants down, you'd think it would be worth the effort.

Yackers

I spent the weekend in D.C., which means I spent all day Friday and all day yesterday travelling.

There are always people on the plane who yack loudly for the entire flight. Listen people, no one wants to hear your life story for 4 hours. Not the people in the row in front of you, not the people in the row behind you, and certainly not the poor soul in the seat next to you who is getting yacked at. Seriously, I would rather sit in front of a fussy baby. It's a lot easier to tune out.

I flew on Southwest. They can turn around a plane in 20 minutes. What is their secret? First of all, they do a good job getting the cabin cleaned up before they land. For example, they ask us to fold up our blankets and return them before landing, instead of leaving them on the seat. As the last person is leaving the plane, a flight attendant walks behind them cleaning up so that by the time that passenger is off, they are ready to board.

Their second trick is the no-seat-assignment policy. (I have to give credit to Ed for this observation). The B-group and C-group always get in line the second they get to the terminal. The A's dally a little, but they are usually all lined up and waiting by the time boarding starts. Yesterday, the plane we would be on for our flight to Maryland arrived 20 minutes early to Oakland, and as soon as the passengers started to get off, everyone who wasn't in line jumped up and got in line. A Southwest employee announced that we wouldn't be boarding for 20 minutes, but no one budged. They all just stood there for 20 minutes (except for me - I was sitting in a chair reading my book). When we did start boarding, I noticed that no one but me joined the A-line late - I was the only one that wasn't in line. If you have an A-boarding pass, you can always get a great seat, even if you are the last A, so what's up with that?

At any rate, they are able to get every single passenger to get in line and be ready to go the second they are ready to board. That's why they can land a plane, get everyone off, and fill it back up in 15 minutes.

Best Husband Ever

And no, it's not mine. Or yours.

It's my coworker's husband.

Last weekend he made her "Breakfast In Tub"! He "forced" her into the Jacuzzi and then made her breakfast and brought it to her. And this week he made our entire department this super-yummy chocolate dessert with rasberry sauce and whipped cream. It was his mom's bakery's signature dessert! (Yes, his mom had a bakery. And apparently he learned well.)

Susheem gave me a foot massage. That was nice.

Mmmmm.... Chocolate. Jacuzzi. Breakfast.

Keeping track of our visitors

Nikki suggested that we add sitetracker to keep track of our visitors, so I have done this. Any comments? Like it/Hate it...Need to password to get in and see our visitors? Let me know.

Scary

As you can see, I am in serious need of cable tv. Or an antenna that costs more than $9.99.

Last Sunday I was bored, so I read the synopses of all of the episodes of the tv series "Lost" (which I had never seen before.) Last night I watched it for the first time. I didn't realize that the show is actually pretty scary. And I'm not good at scary. When I watch scary movies, I spend most of the scary scenes with my eyes closed and/or ears plugged. Last night I kept muting the scary music because I couldn't handle the suspense, but I kept going because I really wanted to know what was in the hatch.

After Lost, I left the TV on so that I could get unscared, only to get drawn into the premiere of an Invasion of the Body Snatchers type show that only intensified my feelings (again, there was a lot of muting of scary music). I finally calmed myself down by watching the news (because the lack of scary music on the news makes real hurricanes seem a lot less scary than hurricanes caused by aliens to hide their secret landing).

By the time I went to bed, I was able to fall asleep. Because I knew that if anyone tried to get me, I would wake up and spray them with the trusty can of mace that sits on my nightstand. Ooo-Yeah!

Early Risers

I have to teach a phd student seminar in which we discuss a paper that will be presented by a guest speaker later in the day at a research workshop. We are having problems finding a time on Friday morning when the seven students can come, and it looks like we are going to have to have it at 9am. That right, 9 A M. I gave them the option of doing it sometime on Thursday afternoon/evening, but they chose 9am. Where did these people learn to be grad students, anyway? They obviously aren't being socialized properly.

My advisor never came in before 11am and never wanted to see me until 4pm. Ah, the idyllic days of yore. The only thing that gets me to work before 11am now is the fear of having to park a mile away.

Leaving Well Enough Alone

I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I occasionally go back to my old posts and revise them because I decide that what I wrote was stupid. Why? Well, when our blog becomes famous and people start reading the old posts because they just can't get enough of us, I don't want them to think I'm stupid. Why do I always think I'm stupid? One of the requirements for grad school is that you check your self esteem at the door. I turned in my dissertation three weeks ago, so I'm waiting to start feeling smart and capable again. Waiting. Waiting.

Every day for the last three years I've wondered what it would feel like to turn in my dissertation and turn off the constant nagging voice in my head that was always telling me I needed to work on it. Not that I listened to it - but it was always there, like an old friend. Well, now I know. I miss it. I need a project. Yesterday I was thinking that maybe I should learn to knit. Six months ago, I would never have considered knitting/crocheting/embroidering/sewing anything unless WalMart-seeking missiles destroyed all of the cheap textile goods in our country. (Not that I buy my clothes at WalMart, but you get the idea).

Today I decided that I will study for my Ham Radio license, which, according to my husband makes me the queen of the übernerds. We'll see who's calling who a nerd when I save us by calling for help when an earthquake cuts off all phone communications.

Candy

I don't have a wireless router, so I have to string a cable to my living room so that I can surf while I lay on the couch. Why don't I have a wireless router? Because it's one of the many things that Ed already has but is currently using in Maryland. And if I buy one, I won't need it when he moves here in March. So I tell myself I can just tough it out until then. I gave in and bought a TV because I knew I couldn't last until March without one. I bought an $8 toaster at Target because Ed has a nice toaster oven. I chop my vegies by hand because Ed has a food processor. Just kidding. I haven't eaten any vegies since the first week I lived here. The ones I bought on my initial "stock the fridge" shopping trip are mostly rotting in the vegie drawer. That's my guess, anyway. I haven't really checked on them for a month or so, so I can't say for sure.

I was watching an infomercial about some diet where you pay $300/month and they bring you food every week (I was too lazy to change the channel. And I only get 2 channels anyway, so the likelihood that the other channel was showing anything better at that time of day was small.) The food didn't look too bad, and I actually considered it. Not because I want to go on a diet (which I don't) but because someone else would bring meals to my house and all I would have to do is heat them up. Then I thought about how I have a whole freezer full of Trader Joe's frozen food that just needs to be heated up, but I don't eat it because it all takes an hour to cook and I just never feel like waiting that long (I already ate everything that can be cooked in less than 15 minutes). Instead, I eat Easy Mac (yes, it's microwave macaroni and cheese - 4 minutes), cheese and crackers (15 seconds prep time), Power Bars (Cookies and Cream is my flavor of choice lately) and candy (Long's drugstore had big boxes of Hot Tamales on sale for 79 cents. I bought them all.) I know I should be eating better, but IT'S JUST TOO HARD. I need my husband to get over here and cook for me. Husband, are you reading this???

Go Cal!

I went to my first Cal football game yesterday with a friend of mine who is an alumnus and has season's tickets. It was really fun. We were down 7-17 at half time, but came back with some exciting plays to win 35-20 (we were playing Illinois). I even managed to produce a couple of pieces of Berkeley clothing to wear to the game. The only disappointment is that our cheerleaders don't do ridiculously dangerous stunts. I had to watch the Illinois cheerleaders to get my fill.

My friend was determined to show me as much Berkeley coolness as possible. We parked in the secret faculty parking lot right across from the stadium (wahahaha) and then ate lunch at Top Dog. After the game we got candy at the campus bookstore and then walked down Telegraph. It was all very cool and fun.

I am now beginning to understand the level of anti-Stanford sentiment that floats around here. When everyone shouted "blue!" over the word 'red' during the national anthem (...and the rockets' red glare....) I thought hmmm. Then I started seeing a lot of anti-stanford slogans on the student's shirts (we were sitting next to the student section). When some poor guy showed up with a red hat and all of a sudden 100 people were pointing at him and chanting "Take off that red hat!", I realized that I am firmly entrenched in bear territory. I never got the sense that Stanford students went to that much trouble to hate Cal. (I only went to one football game, so maybe I missed a lot of anti-Cal antics, but I did go to a lot of basketball games and I didn't see any there). So now I understand that people are really sizing me up when they ask me suspiciously, "So how was it coming from Stanford to Cal?" I might have to change my answer from "Fine" to "Stanford? I hated every second. The palm trees, the club-med atmosphere, the beautiful weather, the air conditioning - It's nothing but a breeding ground for sissies."

Reality TV and Jeopardy

Do you ever find yourself wondering, "why do dead bodies always float face down?" Well, here's your answer:
Why do dead bodies float face down

I finally got a TV yesterday and yes, it has changed my life from a lonely silent existence to a life full of talking heads and reality tv. Last night I watched Couples Fear Factor. The first stunt was a physical activity where the man and woman held on to opposite ends of a rope while hanging by their ankles at opposite ends of a beam while the beam spun around faster and faster. It kept going until one of them let go of the rope, which made them both fall in the water. Because of the setup, the force exerted by the rope on each of them was proportional to the body weight of the other person. In other words, the women were at a huge disadvantage because they were all smaller than the men. Immediately afterwards in the boat that picked them up, the men were huge jerks - all but one of them were ripping into the woman for letting go. In reality, once the force (which was increasing with the speed of the spinning) exceeded her grip strength, the rope would slide out of her hands - none of them just let go.

Fortunately, several of the women were vindicated during the next stunt when they had to use their mouths to find coins in pies made of maggots and stuff, and then drink a shake made of ground maggots, duck heart, etc. One of the mean guys threw up, which almost got them kicked out and another guy couldn't drink the shake (they were drinking it together, so the woman drank most of it). Sissies.

I always assumed that they made sure that the stunts had no potential dangerous health effects. (I mean, is it reallly safe to eat live maggots?) But then I read a New Yorker article about leeches in which someone from a leech farm said that Fear Factor had contacted them about buying some leeches, but never asked if they were safe to eat.

You will not be seeing Ed and me on that show anytime soon. But if you tune into Jeopardy tonight, you will see our friend Michael Shirts go up against a guy whose been on for 15 or so episodes.

Puppies, Babies, and Countertops

Check out this great post about raising puppies (and kids): Mormon Mommy Wars. I know my kids are going to realize right away that I can't actually force them to do anything and then they will never mind me again.

On a mostly unrelated note, we didn't have enough storage space in our kitchen, so we bought a modular cabinet from Ikea (you pick out the countertop and cabinet separately). We picked a nice looking wood countertop only to find out that we had to cut it down to size ourselves. Ok, fine. We're mormon - it only took 10 minutes at church to find a retired guy with a saw who was happy to help us. Then they gave us the wrong sized cabinet - so we had to brave Ikea on Labor Day. Yes, it was my worst shopping nightmare come true.

We finally got the cabinet put together and were trying to figure out how to attach the countertop when we read in the instructions that we have to buy a special Ikea oil and treat it every three days for 2 months. Not only did I have to go back to Ikea AGAIN, but now I have needy countertop. "Um, no, I can't come over tonight. I have to oil my countertop."

After the first couple of treatments, I have to admit that the oiled wood is looking very spiffy. When I get my house cleaned up, I'll take pictures for you guys.

The saga that is my knee...

So we removed the hardware (good) and put my knee back together. It was healing along seemingly well. But Monday it started to hurt in a certain spot, and it just got worse every day. By Wednesday evening I had started to get worried. Since it was not better Thursday I made an appointment to go in. This is what it looked like:


Does this look infected to you?

A big red spot, kind of swollen and sensitive. Suggestive of an infection if you ask me. I was fully expecting antibiotics...however, when the nurse practicioner took a look at it, she said that she wasn't sure (since there was no puss). She thought that it might just be inflamed. She said that I should just watch it, and if it got worse come back. (Note this is Thursday--right before a long weekend). Apparently it just wasn't bad enough yet...


If the red gets beyond the black lines, then we panic...


They drew these lines on it and said that if the red gets outside the lines to come back...and by the way, not to worry, there is a doctor on call over the weekend...
Somehow, this was, to me, a fairly disappointing response. I mean, it hurts plenty--I don't particularly want to wait for it to get worse...

meanwhile, this morning--it looks the same. Not worse so I can go get it fixed, but certainly no better...

Arg-Medicine can be so frustrating--there just isn't that much which they know with certainty.