meeting ADD

It's not that my mental capacity is limited, that anyone in the room lacks intelligence, or that I have trouble focusing.

It's just that when the 3.5 hour committee meeting is over, I seriously want to bash my head against the wall.

And even before the bashing, I still can't remember what I said I'd do over the course of the meeting (it was all there until we rolled past hour 2, and then I lost it), and my notes are indecipherable.

I know it's not appropriate, but it might be more productive if a person were allowed to stop before the urge to bash came upon him/her and announce, "Ok--excuse me, sorry, meeting adjourned! Brain closing down for the evening. We will reconvene later, when I can handle you all again. I was stapling your meeting packets through my lunch break and now it's 5:30 and I haven't eaten and you have to leave. Goodbye for now!"

Meeting tomorrow morning to talk about how we're going to do all the stuff that was decided in today's meeting. I'm going home to play mindless video games. Don't look at me, I just work here.

Unceremonious

A few FAQ:

1. What happened to fruitcakebrigade.com?

I wasn't using it, so I let it expire. I did consider that web domains are the new real estate, but I just didn't see a high paying deal for FCB in my future. Blogspot is free and suits the need for now, and http://fruitcakebrigade.blogspot.com now hosts the archive.

2. Where are the pictures? Why so many broken links?

See above. I saved all .jps on my laptop before they vanished, and have hopes of one day rebirthing them on flickr. As for the missing links, ideally those will one day be fixed, too... but I wouldn't hold my breath about it.

3. The missing links look ugly, and the layout hasn't changes in years. Does it bother you to write in such a poorly programmed site?

Well, yes... but not really. I've always prefered the revision method of "draw a line through it" to "cover it up with white out," and I find a plain spiral-bound notebook as (or more) inspiring to write in than something leather with fancy paper. So here's the real question: should the content of this site be considered published material or an on-going work in progress? Gosh, I dunno.

4. Why won't you put comments back up?

Because I read too much into them (or their absence).

5. How exactly are we definining "frequently" here?

Oh shush. Inquiring minds want to know. They do!

Wrong Number

I'm glad I jumped on the gmail train early. My generic e-mail address affords me tons of fun mail... for other people. See below:

Exhibit A
From: Kevin
Date: May 9, 2006 7:36 PM
Subject: Watergate Trial

I summarized 6/10 witnesses, and found a piece of photographic evidence. I read a lot of the White House tapes transcript, and it lead nowhere. The tapes more or less incriminate Nixon more, so don't waste your time. If have time to complete the other 4 witnesses, that'd be great, othewise I always have tomorrow's class. Kennedy is working on opening and closing statements. I can work with the witnesses tomorrow to solidify thier position during the trial. I can also create some cross-examination questions for the 6 witnesses I summarized, if you can do the 4.

Thanks,

Radmer

Exhibit B
On 5/3/06, SomeoneATaolDOTcom wrote:

www.kansasstatefair.com

Bill Engvall
Friday, Sept. 8 - $25.00

Do I see a road trip from K-State in you guys future, or is there a home
foot ball game?

Love you,
mom

Exhibit C:
From: Angela
Date: Jul 23, 2005 4:09 PM
Subject: Profesor

Hola profesor es angela, de la une , espero esté bien,
le escribo para solicitarle urgente el tlf del prof.
fernando rivero, ya que el que tenemos luz andrea y yo
nos contesta una muchacha , me imagino lo vendió...el
q tenemos es el 04168355660..y nada..Y de verdad nos
urge localizarlo para las corecciones de la tesis...
Si nos los puede enviar se lo agradeceremos...gracias

Big Bag of Books Day, Part Deux

People sometimes ask me, "Mary--how do you score so well at the public library booksales?" Actually, no one ever asks me that, and I always walk away bragging about my stellar hunting/gathering skills... and no one else seems to care. Phooey on all of you! When executed methodically, one bag for $10 can provide a reading list for the entire summer.

(What they ask me is: "Oh, did you run into Soandso?" No, I didn't. I was concentrating! Big bag of books day is not a time for socializing; it is a time for laser-like focus and reflexes of steel. That said, I did run into Maria. And I sent her away with The God of Small Things. I hope she likes it as much as I do.)

If anyone asked me, I would share my book booty strategy. The following applies to fiction and/or anthology only:

1. Scan, don't try to read every title. You'll make yourself dizzy! Skip right over the "brick books" (you know the ones--the cheap paperback size with the tiny print: think crappy romance novel) and go for the longer, skinnier ones. More often than not, these are newer and in better condition.

2. Look for authors you recognize, classics, and key words like "Booker" "Pulitzer" or "Oprah." You may debate the latter if you wish, but I contend that Oprah is no fool. I wouldn't go buy a book just because she told me so, but by golly I'll throw it in my bag. Skip anything that says "advance copy."

3. Lacking any of the above, testimonials indicate a reasonable chance of success. Kurt Vonnegut, good. John Updike, good. Times Literary Supplement, good. Margaret Atwood--gold.

4. Anthologies are tricky. Try not to think of it as a lifetime commitment. Yes, you are allowed to re-sell or give away the Norton Anthology of Whatever. Stick it in your bag if you want, but think about it--how often will you really read a book that weighs 5 lbs and uses 6 pt Times New Roman font? Moreover, your friends will hate you when it's time to help you move, and it takes up valuable bag space. I'm just sayin'.

5. If it's not in good condition or doesn't smell good, leave it alone. You won't want to read it. Really.

I have no plan of attack for biography or non-fiction. I'm sure they are both very nice sections, and I'd like to become better acquainted, but I just don't know where to start. Roosevelt? Katie Couric? Eminem? EEEEK! Run away!!

This year's Big Bag of Books, with rationale:

A Map of the World - Jane Hamilton (Oprah)
Gertrude and Claudius - John Updike (classic)
The Collector - John Fowles (author of The Magus)
Headlong - Michael Frayn (I think my dad likes him, w/support from Vonnegut)
House of Sand and Fog - Andre Dubus III (Oprah)
Edith Hamilton - Mythology (classic)
Bee Season - Myla Goldberg (Oprah) (I think)
The Plague Dogs - Richard Adams (author of Watership Down)
Open House - Elizabeth Berg (Oprah)
The Sun Also Rises - Hemmingway (classic)
The Beautiful & Damned - Fitzgerald (classic)
The Bluest Eye - Toni Morison (classic)
Lolita - Nabokov (classic)
A Private View - Anita Brookner (Booker author)
Aiding and Abetting - Muriel Spark (testimonial by Updike)
The 100 Best Poems of All Time ('cause I'm lame like that)
The Best America Non-Required Reading 2002 (score!!)
The Best America Poetry 1997 (again with the lameness)
Welcome to My Planet (Where English is Sometimes Spoken) - Shannon Olson (testimonial by Garrison Keillor and Melissa Bank)

Last year's Big Bag of Books selections can be found here.

Average and loving it!

Two months ago I succumed to reality and dyed my hair dark brown. While my "natural" hair color (whatever that looks like) is probably lighter than it is now, it's certainly not blonde. Not since I was eight.

And the funny thing is--no one really noticed. That's right, folks; I went from "lightest ivory blonde" to "darkest ash brown," and hardly anyone batted an eye. What has happened is a series of mistaken identities: from an education fundraiser who swears up and down we have met before, to a recent Houston transplant from South Carolina whom I met at Chances, to a visiting member of our national TFA development team who says I look just like her sister.

I am of completely average stature and weight. I look exactly my age. There is nothing distinct about my appearance. I have accomplished my ultimate 12-year-old self-conscious fantasy of, "Blend, baby, blend!"

We've probably never met before, but I look so familiar...

Things That Satisfy Me More Than They Should

1. When a four-way stop is fully utilized and everything works out just swell! When everyone knows exactly when it's his/her turn to go and there are no false starts and stops or unneccesary delays, I always drive away feeling sort of smug, like, "Gosh, we are good drivers!"

2. PINK lemonade. What makes it pink? Nobody really cares.

3. Eating each piece of the sandwich/salad individually. Avacados--yum! Tomato--yum! Bread--yum! Cheese--yum!

4. Pinkisthenewblog. Hellooooo celebrity dirt!

In which I totally slander Meg Cabot

I was thinking, this morning in the shower, about human response to artistic endeavors. Specifically, artist response to artistic endeavors.

For example--I fancy myself a writer. Let's narrow this definition to exclude talent and include personal identification only. It is not important if you think I am a writer; if I think I'm a writer (or if I don't), it will affect the way I react to writing.

I am fairly certain crafters categorize their craft into four distinct boxes:

1. I like it, and I could have done it (possibly better).

2. I like it, and I could never have done it.

3. I could have done it, but I don't like it.

4. I couldn't (wouldn't?) have done it, and I don't like it.

TRUE LIFE (PERSONAL) EXAMPLES:

1. Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life: Brilliant! I love the choppy style, the lists, and the cross-referencing. I would like to try this style with my own life. The author reminds me of all the things I like about ME! I want to buy her a Starbucks latte and take her roller skating. I feel self-affirmed by this book, but I'm kicking myself that I didn't try it first. See also: Elizabeth Bishop; Love That Dog; Stiff; most memoirs.

2. The People of Paper: Holy crap! Just read the book jacket. I couldn't have dreamed this whack story up in a million years. Against all odds, I identify with it and love it. (And you will, too.) I admire the author and I would like to engage in a torrid love affair with him, but I'd probably be too shy to get out more than "will you please sign my book?"--if that. See also: the Blind Assassin, Maus, Life of Pi, Alain De Botton's On Love; most fiction.

3. Every Boy's Got One: Sure, I could write this. I could also watch American Idol and dine at Denny's, but I wouldn't feel much satisfaction from that, either. The author reminds me of one of those girls from my high school who wrote rhyming poems back when. What? Don't feel sorry for her. She got to have tea with Julie Andrews. This type of writing makes me feel CATTY. See also: poems by Jewel, books available via Microsoft reader only, most Houston Press articles.

4. (This is the only category where books don't come immediately to mind. Maybe because I subconsciously avoid them in the first place. I could say Ulysses, but that feels like cheating because it's the only non-contemporary book on the list; that and I don't like it but I definitely admire it. Ok, I like parts.) Recently published: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Yes, ok, you win Mr. Safron Foer (if that IS your real name)--no I couldn't have thought of all those crazy chapters or played volleyball with the English language the way you have in your novel. But that doesn't mean I have to LIKE it. See also: technical books, non-creative non-fiction.

But Mary, you say. This is just personal preference. There's nothing new or original about that.

Ok, let's apply it to art:

1.

2.

3.

4.

Ok, maybe this idea is overly simplistic and definitely not as rewarding as it felt in the shower this morning. (Speaking of drains...) And there's plenty of art that falls into category 3 that works as art simply because someone thought to do it, whereas my book category 3s don't work because everyone has done them already--and better than you, JEWEL.

Requires future thought: personal perceptions of to what extent natural talent + training = ability. (Do we all truly believe that with enough practice, training, time, and reaching for the stars we can actually GET to the stars; or are we accepting of natural barriers/talents separating ourselves from "the greats"?)

The Trouble With Emoticons

From a messenger conversation earlier re: work benefits:

Ka'rin says:
retirement is 403
Ka'rin says:
lol
Mary says:
403 BEER?
Ka'rin says:
that was supposed to be ( b )
Ka'rin says:

Ka'rin says:
403 ( b )
Mary says:
i wish we got 403 beers
Ka'rin says:
lol
Ka'rin says:
that would be nice
Mary says:
that would be awesome

Lost and Found

In searching through documents from my old laptop, I found an assignment that Azi and Andrea had been working on for an ESL certification class. It looks like they didn't get very far. I dunno anything about sentence trees, but I thought I'd answer the questions.

2. Draw Surface Structure trees for the following:
A. Yes/No Questions
1. Has the rain finally stopped?

The rain comes in odd intervals and drowns the city in a moment's notice. Yes, it will stop. But the mess it leaves behind will last for hours.

2. Do you like cream in your coffee?

Cream and no sugar in very strong brew.

3. Were the police not notified about the theft?

The police were notified about the theft. They proved wholly useless.

4. Could he have locked the keys in his car?

He's fairly good with car keys. She, on the other hand...

B. Wh-Questions
1. Who always arrives late?

"On second thought..."

2. Why didn't you tell me immediately?

I thought you already knew.

3. What could Mary have been thinking about?

Actually, Mary was thinking about how to answer the question about what could Mary have been thinking about the question of what could--AHHHH!

4. Did Sue ever say when she was leaving?

She might have. I was busy with question 3.

For the Record... (resp. req.)

You know, at work, I answer every e-mail requesting a response. Sometimes it's easy, like "what is your new address" or "do we have contact information for Mr. X?"; and sometimes it's more complex.

Nevertheless--some kind of response. Within 48 hours. Even the whack e-mails.

(Ok, not always within 48 hours, but that is the goal turn-around time.)

And sometimes, when I'm answering the most whack of all e-mails, or when I'm staring at whack e-mail trying to imagine what inspired someone to write it in the first place, and why they chose to send it to me, I think about all the e-mails I've sent from a professional standpoint that have received absolutely. no. response.

Like the e-mail I sent to the guy who wrote about Houston's top public high schools--Yes College Prep was #3, and I wrote to him to let him know that Yes! was founded by a TFA alum, and KIPP too, and additionally here's what we're doing in Houston in case he was interested for future education spotlights or wanted to chat with our executive director.

No. response. Maybe he thought it was a little whack, but I thought I was providing him with a good lead. Or maybe he got some REALLY whack emails as a result of the article and decided to just ignore them all.

There are other examples. You don't really need details.

In short: I respond to your whack e-mail; why won't people respond to mine?

And, more importantly: When (if ever), and under what circumstances, do I get to just hit delete? At what level of professional prestige does it become acceptable to not answer every e-mail?

Just curious.

Voyage Along the Whatever

From Voyage Along the Horizon; an interview with the author:
"What would you tell readers who don't know what to make of the ending?"

JM: "That the end of a novel isn't usually very important. In fact, people never seem to remember the endings of novels... conclusions and final explanations are often the most irrelevent--and disapointing--parts of a novel. What counts the most--and what we remember the most--is the atmosphere, the style, the path, the journey, and the world in which we have immersed ourselves for a few hours or days."

FUCK YOU, JAVIER MARIAS.

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THAT DUDE IN SCOTLAND? AND HOW IS THE WOMAN RELATED TO THE SHIP? I MUST KNOW!!!

I get that you're making a literary statement, but DAMMIT!!!

Full Circle

1. On Thursday night, I received the list of people invited to join next year's "teefa" corps; of particular interest were the seven I interviewed who met the acceptance rubric. This is the first time that I've personally played a role in the inception of new corps members. I cursed selection the entire time I was doing it, but now I understand--it lends ownership to the product I sell everyday. These aren't just random corps members; they are MY corps members, and they are friggin' awesome.

2. On Friday evening we held a baby shower/going away party for Debi, who moves to a secret city in Tennessee this weekend with her husband and not-yet-birthed baby Olive. We all started crying as soon as Debi and Harley left the driveway, which led to a reminiscent "Who met who through whom?" conversation.

3. Later, in the car, R.J. asked if I was going to cry any more. "The thing is," I answered through tight throat, "I'm sad that Debi's leaving, but it's not just Debi. Last year when Lana and Andrea and Jen all left, I had just started a new job--I was busy, I had sh-t to do--I didn't have time to be sad or cry. Now I have time, and I'm sad about all of it."

4. The inner dialogue strikes back: And let's not try to portray ourselves as saints. Anytime we're sad because x person left, our emotions are wholly engrossed in self-pity as well. How could she leave me? I feel abandoned. He managed to leave here, and I have not been able to do, which means I must be a loser. I talk grad school, and she's actually doing it. I talk marriage and kids, and he's actually doing it. In short, in this light of leaving, our own accomplishments and worth seem irrationally pale and indistinguishable.

5. Q: When is it hard to keep in touch with those who have left/you have left?
A: When you're not sure they'd approve of your life in their absence.

One day, all children in this nation will have the opportunity to work a minimum wage job?

Houston News 11 just reported that students at Lee High School (where a number of my favorite people teach/taught) demonstrated today as part of a city-wide protest against the proposed immigration law.

You know the one I'm talking about.

I'm not going to go off on Bush because you've all heard it before--it's a stupid idea by a stupid man elected by a stupid "majority," but whatever. I'm not even going to go off on immigration policy in general because that, dear readers, is a far more complicated issue leading to a wide range of valid opinions.

(I'm not even sure where I fall on the "send them all back to Mexico" vs. "mi casa es su casa" continuum, although I have to say I'm not all that impressed with most English-only speakers.)

I do, however, have strong feelings about the signs being displayed by the students of Lee High School. "We're not Terrorists; We're Workers!" one sign says. This alongside the arguments I've been hearing of, "Well, immigrants take jobs that no one else wants to do. You didn't get a college degree to clean toilets, after all."

True enough. I got a college degree because my teachers and parents and I and everyone expected me to go to college.

Are we honestly taking the mindset that Mexican immigrants can and should be granted citizenship in order to work our minimum wage paying labor jobs? Is that the best pro-immigration argument we can come up with? Lee High School students! You've been taught better than that! You are going to go to college and be writers and journalists and CEOs and small business owners. AMERICA SHOULD EXPECT IT OF YOU, or I should quit my job immediately.

We need scientists, technicians, and engineers, and we're turning out highly skilled jobs faster than my or your generation can fill them up (that includes the suburban kids, and you're already behind). You kids!--you Nike-wearing, pledge-saying, R.L.Stein-reading, Napoleon-Dynamite-watching, American immigrants and children of immigrants!--go back to class tomorrow and show these nimrods you mean business.

I mean GOSH.
#@$#@$!($*@(#*!@(#*!@(#$*!@.


Ok, done.

Narrowly-averted 15 minutes of fame

The Washington Post online just posted a not-terribly-in-depth look at the rise of teacher blogs (a subject I know a little bit about--why do you think this blog is "tippy top secret"?).

They link to First Year Teacher, who is actually a third year teacher in North Carolina. Something about the tone, title and location led me to think, "hmmmm..." and a quick trip to the archives confirmed her involvement with a certain acroynm we all know and love.

I'm a little bit jealous and ultimately relieved that mine wasn't singled out this way.

Not to mention that "Today in class..." generally begins a more interesting story than "Today I was writing this grant..."

Mary Converses with Utah

M: It's cold and I want to go home.
Mountains: Look at us! We're all snowcapped and majestic!
M: Stupid snooty mountains.
Apple Beer: Come on, you love us.
M: I do love you, apple beer. What's with all the Pepsi products, anyway?
Visitor Parking: I have placed impenetrable orange cones in all my spots. You cannot possibly park here. Go home, agnostic.
BYU: We saw you move that cone. You owe us $20 or else we will withhold your non-existent student records and/or impound your rental car. Please take this complementary pen to write us a check immediately.
M: Thanks! Could I take home some sacred underwear instead?
Utah: We don't think you're very funny.
M: Likewise.