Ms. Fix-It

In theory, it's nice to be the handy one in the house. In reality, it blows. Two Christmases ago, I installed some track lighting in my parents' basement. It was a bit jerry-rigged because the wiring and ceiling was not designed for this kind of fixture. A while ago one of the two lights came down. Which means that I have to fix it. And I wouldn't mind if I actually had the proper tools for the job. But instead of a cordless power drill and vise-grip (oh, and non ancient, crumbly ceiling tiles to try to anchor on), all I have to work with is a phillips-head screwdriver and crappy pliers (non-needlenose). Now I have some new screw anchors, but no way to drill them into the base or ceiling. Oh, and the fixture weighs about 20lbs, it's awkward, and I have to do it overhead. All of this in the same house where I don't rank a bed.

Well now I know what my parents are getting for Christmas next year - decent tools!

Blast from the past

A bit out of the blue, I got an email from an old friend. A shot in the dark to see if we might be in the same place at the same time long enough for a beverage. He and I worked for Virginia Shakespeare Festival in 2001, and I haven't seen him in so many years.

It was a blast to see an old friend. We talked about our respective PhD programs and sisters and such. Very holiday both in the chance to see old friends and the out-of-context-ness.


After coffee, he headed to a conference, and I made the mistake of trying to run errands at the mall. I park on the top level anyways, but clearly underestimated the insanity, to say nothing of the alien chi-chi of Tysons.

And while I still had the car (it sucks having to share), I got to see K, my mentor and local snark-partner. It's always good to catch up, especially if it is over coffee or cobbler!

on the tube: The Tudors 2.2

New Christmas tradition?

To celebrate the baby sister turning 21, the 5 of us went to the bar. Right now, this is perfect, since we are all hip to the bar scene, and the Dude is old enough to get into bars but not old enough to drink, giving us an automatic designated driver.

Originally, we were supposed to go out on Tuesday, the first night all 5 of us were in the same place. But it was not so organized, and we were all tired from our various projects of the day (work/baking/traveling/etc). Instead, we ended up at the bar after Christmas Eve dinner.

Fashionista found a pub a mile from home. It was surprisingly crowded. While I knew it wouldn't be empty, I didn't expect that many layers of humanity between me and the bartender. To celebrate the Fashionista's 21st, we did a bartender's choice of shot, that was impressively palatable. Then moved on to round 2. We scored 2 barstools and chatted amongst ourselves mostly, although Fashionista did have a boy buy her a drink. The same boy we asked to guess oldest/youngest. To his credit, he identified me as the oldest. I'm guessing it was my calm demeanor that gave it away. Whatever it was, I was vindicated.


I think the Dude felt a little awkward having to hang out in a bar and protect 4 women. And it's funny for us who see him as the baby in the family.

I'm not sure how I feel about it all. On one hand, it was fun to hang out like people and not siblings. On the other, there is something so wrong about piling into the minivan, on Christmas Eve, to get your drunk on. That said, it already feels like a new tradition.

Now I lounge on the couch, watch some guilty-pleasure TV with a mild buzz, grateful that Santa didn't come early.

My princess existence

For the past few days, I have been kickin' it princess style. I wake up at 2PM (I blame my vampire habits and my internal California clock). I loaf around the apartment until I get bored with that, and then I call NonSmokin' Fairy to pick my butt up. You see, I have no car here in Athens. And since I am squatting at Lil Sis' apartment (which she keeps toasty), I am up on a hill. It's too damn cold to walk far, especially if I have my knight in shining Prelude to schlep me around. My only objection to my princess existence is the ice. It is very un-princess-like to skid and crack your butt on the icy pavement. I have managed to stay vertical thus far.

But it's awesome! I am casually reading random books, not thinking too much about UCSB crap, just living in my happy hedonistic moment. Last night, I had pizza with a friend, and then we headed over to Rardon for Get Smart and baked goods (including super gooey-yummy caramel brownies that I helped with). The movie was appropriately silly and enhanced by the mild sugar-shock we all were in.

I guess I should think about putting on some non-jammers and be social. Oh, and find the earflap I KNOW I packed.

on Jango: Hot Chip - "I Don't Know the Half..."

Skippers is the new Gator

I have done more drinking, laughing, and geeky frivolity in the past couple of days than I have in weeks. (Like since the last time I was in Athens.)

NonSmokin' Fairy and I were pretty much chillin' and hating on the airlines when Riff recommended shooting some pool at Skippers. He and I got there first, chatted with the bartender and quickly became the only people in the bar. They have over a dozen beers on tap and a bartender who was willing to keep the bar open just for us theatre kids. AND he wants to re-institute Martini Night, since Gator is no longer. (There was much sadness all around, because that was our bar). Basically his logic is to support the kids who support the bar. Woot!


There was beer. And crappy pool. To the point that we had to invent a new game - Blue Ball (the 8 ball seemed magnetically attracted to the pockets). And that went downhill very fast as well all let our inner 12-year olds run loose. And between shots, we tried to gross each other out with horror stories about bugs. I will NEVER live in Texas, but I'm glad A. did, because his impression of a scorpion on his chest was priceless.

Last night, NonSmokin' Fairy and I had some lunch at BW3, only to return there later with some of the other designers for beverages. Closed that place out and rolled down to Tony's, and eventually Goodfellas. I was bummin' because O'Betty's is closed for break. But so much fun, drinking cranberry-vodkas (unlike the cranberry-rubbing alcohol I seemed to have ordered at Chocolate in SBA), gossipping about people and shows and general bullshit. Ah.

Now I am curled up under a voluminous comforter on Lil Sis' couch, watching her DVDs, eating a pumpkin spice Krispy Kreme. I should do some yoga or pushups or such, but it would kinda kil the hedonistic buzz.

Winter Break

12/13/8 7.14PM PST
It couldn’t come soon enough. And now that I am on a plane headed east, I will declare it officially winter break. If nothing else, I was running around too much yesterday to really consider it a break until now.

Wednesday, SuperK turned in our African Theater papers, because he is the social one at 8AM, and he needed to head to the building anyways. I got a couple hours sleep before meeting a professor for a meeting that might just be more flabberwhelming during/after than it even was before. When I got home from that (and returning one of the piles of books that SuperK and I had checked out for the paper), I scratched my head over the whole meeting, then proceeded to write my grading memo for Pedagogy. How do you grade yourself? Without using personal OR passive? For a self-described medieval teacher? But once that was sent off, SuperK and I could watch all the stuff on the DVR we had recorded, guilt-free as we hash over some of the final minutia of the quarter, including my meeting, the responses to the grading memos, and the impressive apathy in the apartment. And of course, some snarking about our least favorite people.

That night, another grad invited us over for dinner. She used to be a chef (frommagier to be specific); her research is food; she has pretty food art at her apartment. Needless to say her “simple,” and “just homestyle” was still some of the best stuff we had eaten in weeks. Chicken kebabs with homemade yogurt sauce, Armenian-style stuffed grape leaves, rice and salad. Yum! It was extra-special since the night before, SuperK and I were eating cold nachos as we were reading each other’s papers. It’s just fun to hang out with people, especially without the guilt or deadlines.

Today, SuperK drove me down to LAX, and my what a beautiful drive it is. Sparkling water, green mountains, palm trees. Oh and the damn 405. But SuperK is much more conscientious and punctual than I, so I got to the airport with plenty of time. I was more impressed how much stuff I managed to cram into my carry-on. What will be even more impressive – the pile of stuff I must have forgotten in order to pull that off.

Now that the quarter is over, perhaps I can try to play a little catch up with my blogging.

DMV Madness

I finally decided that it was time to change my residency to California. The election has passed (I wanted to vote in Virginia); tax time is coming up; and I have to renew my VA license if I don't replace it first. To say nothing of in-state/out-of-state tuition considerations for next year.

Now that I have my brain and time back after the end of quarter, I decided to just get that done. SuperK warned me about taking the written test, so I picked up the booklet. And today, I got up damn early to spend 2.5 hours and close to $200 not really accomplishing anything. It's extremely frustrating.

In an attempt to head off some of the inevitable DMV-BS, I came prepared with my completed paperwork, passport and ready to take the test. And it started just fine, but quickly went downhill. The woman at the first window was super-pleasant and helpful, gave me my number and checked my paperwork. Second window then asked where my titling paperwork was for my car (why get a CA license if you don't have a car to drive?). I tried to explain that I wasn't ready to move my car into CA yet, since my title still has the lienholder (the Civic is all paid off, thank you very much), and I am waiting for my student loan to come through so I can fix her so she can pass the Smog test. But the chyck insisted on pre-registering the car. Which translates to me giving her lots of money with nothing but a 60-day sticker and promise to come back to the DMV. Grr. She also charged me fees for not registering the car in CA within 20 days of crossing state lines, even though technically, I was not a resident until today (no lease, no job, etc).

Fine. It's not like I needed that cash or anything. To say nothing of the lovely fact I get to come back AGAIN!

At Window #3 I had another personable woman who was nice right up until she refused to believe that I was born in 1979. Like she checked both my VA license and my passport, then made her supervisor check. *sigh* While I appreciate looking young, I don't appreciate getting hassled by people about it (DMV, carded for EVERYTHING, including the occasional Rated-R movie). Extra burn - I was wearing my grown-up clothes that day. In the end, they accepted it, mostly because I was just about growling.

Next, they slide me over to take my picture. I briefly thought I had escaped the written test, but no such luck. That said, I totally aced it (even if people looked at me funny as I used my hands to visualize which direction to turn your wheels on an incline without a curb).

The ultimate insult came next. I had jumped through hoops, passed tests, paid money. But instead of a shiny new California license, I get a wad of half-sheets to carry around until my REAL license arrives in 2-8 weeks. WHAT?! And those papers that now take up half my wallet are my legal license. And to make that point, they punched a freakin' hole in my VA license!! Thanks guys. In case I don't have enough trouble convincing people it's not a fake because a) it's out of state and b) I apparently look 12, now I have to explain why I have a hole in my license. Ugh.

I hate that after all of that, nothing really got done. And after that experience, I probably have a really surly license pic.

Bad Blogger

Not that this page is ever really thrill a minute, but I feel bad for becoming such a slacker. I keep starting entries, but I never have the time or attention span to finish them. But my plan is that once I am done with this quarter, I can play a bit of catch-up.

In the meantime, check out Lolcats - which is entirely responsible for any shred of sanity I have left. (to get the full effect, you should play ABBA in the background)

Girl culture

In the past week, I have seen some really odd, if entertaining girl behavior. But this is what you get when you visit an all-women's college and I.V. any weekend-night.

The CORD conference last week was hosted by Hollins University, which is a lovely, if tiny space in the hills of Roanoke. A great size for the conference, as it was scenic, but manageable, without the sterility of a hotel. (The building with the dance studio looks like it is wearing a hat.) And I had nearly forgotten that at least at the undergraduate level, it is all-women.

Nothing like walking out of the Parlour with my coffee at 8.30AM to see a girl in the middle of the quad, dressed like GRAPES, dancing and handing out brownies. Later that day, there was a girl singing "Barbie Girl" loudly and acapella on the steps of Cocke Hall. Like all schools, Hollins has its own set of unique traditions, which were only explained to me after the fact. Apparently, this is the annual Ring Night, where the senior girls give class rings to junior girls, but only after a dose of hazing.


Last night, on my way to the Co-op, I saw the ultimate sight. It was a girl with her hair in loose, but nonetheless "done" curls, a sparkly strapless dress, and (mercifully) matching flipflops, pushing a keg on a dolly down the bike lane. I tried to take a picture, but I was so busy laughing my ass off and trying not to fall off my bike or hit her, that I was not able. I mean, I admire her total blase ownership of the absurdity and willingness to move the keg herself instead of getting some meathead to do it, but still funny. It made the gaggle of girls in short black dresses and silver pumps just pale in comparison.

I'm not sure which was more disturbing/funny, but I sure don't want Jeannette to punch me in the uterus for not attending the Hollins game.

(apparently Odes and Top 10 Lists are big at Hollins)

on Hold: BN.com customer service

Sample class

As part of my Teaching Theatre Teaching class, we each had to teach one play as a sample class. It has been interesting to watch my peers experiment with different styles and approaches, some more successfully than others. (A sick part of me was very sad to miss Zero's train wreck of a sample class, but at least my friends took some good notes.) Going last, I have had a chance to watch everyone else. And offer directing notes.

I got back to CA and realised that I had to plan my class which was 2 days away instead of next week. As of last night, I hadn't even picked out my play! Originally, I had signed up for Miracle Worker, but changes in schedule combined with my conference, prevented me from it. Instead, I chose Tenure. (I question the legitimacy of a play that has NEVER been produced, is published by a company that accepts unsolicited scripts and was written by someone who teaches and writes as a film/culture critic, but has never left home.) On one hand, I really wanted to just teach the play instead of making it a pawn in my larger agenda or using it to offer a gimmick. On the other, I thought of a cool context. Largely grounded in my own mixed feelings toward the tenure process (I love the idea of guaranteed employment, but often hate the people who get it and the lazy asses they become as a result.) So I framed the class in terms of Advocacy, for the play, the ethics of hiring processes.

I wish I could say that teaching makes me nervous, but at best it might elevate the heart rate. Today, I got to teach, with impressive success. I offered statistics, worked with personal experience, and actually had a discussion going! Got some really good feedback, mostly on my inclusiveness of participants and roadmap. I don't know that I had an exact roadmap, but I had objectives and lots of questions. I felt like I handled difficult students well, and fielded all of the questions/comments effectively. My professor called me out on the use of personal. Dumbass asked about how frustrating it was when people's comments veered off my roadmap (he was the major violator, followed shortly by Zero), and I managed to come up with something sufficiently elegant (there can be interesting things on the side of the road that you stop or slow down for, but you are still headed in the same direction.)

I get such a charge from teaching, and based on the feedback, especially the unusually-effusive Professor, I just might be good at it. Woot! Maybe I really am heading in the right direction!

Evening observations

Visiting the East Coast for a few days, besides restoring some sanity, puts weather skies in an interesting perspective.

While the West Coast does some gorgeous sunsets, if you really want a pretty twilight, go to the east coast. Purple just doesn't quite work as well in California. But you don't get the reflection off the ocean. Trade-off


Also, walking back from the last Saturday session, I experienced the epitome of autumnal and collegiate. The air is cool, almost crisp, and the colors were spot on. Columns, pumpkins, and a breeze (that has now turned into a howling wind).

on iTunes: Celia Cruz - "Azucar Negra"

CORD

My first real conference is shaping up to being quite an interesting experience. I can't say this necessarily defies my expectations, but actually being here feels different. The words that keep coming to mind - fraught and bifurcated.

The theme of the CORD conference is Dance and Global Feminisms, which has brought in a really diverse group of presenters. So I have sat in on sessions about Brazilian samba, the Thriller YouTube video of Filipino prisoners, among others. I have gone to quite a few sessions about pedagogy from the dance perspective. Met some really interesting people. Here is what I have learned so far:

• I think I have found the home for my tango research. There was one whole session today analyzing social dance in larger contexts. Holy crap!
• But at heart, I am still a theatre kid. Attending the jam last night really confirmed that.
• Which puts me in a weird place in my work. I know that that technically my degree would be in "Theater & Dance," but it feels more like a concession or something. The only connection I have really noticed between the two is the ampersand.
• The UCSB theatre theory people have enough separation (and for some, contempt) for theatre practice. I can only imagine trying to force them to talk to dancers.
  
• In case I wasn't already thinking it, transfer is now a recurring word in my vocabulary. Then again, I don't know where, since a) I am not the same kind of dancer as all the rest of them, b) I do love theatre and c) who's to say it would be any better/worse. There are some really exciting looking programs out there, I just don't know about practicalities and fit.
• There's a lot of tension about the relationship with technology especially in the live/body field of dance.

Overall, I feel like I have a much better vocabulary to discuss my research, and ways to communicate with scholars. And I feel much more justified in my research, and less like the novelty act in the theatre department.

(sorry for posting the photo after-the-fact.
A session about dance pedagogy.
I love how dancers naturally gravitate to the floor - all the better for stretching.)

UPDATED: Opening night etiquette

Tonight, I attended the opening night of Reckless, mostly to support SuperK. I found the difference in the opening night environment between OU and UCSB really striking. At OU, all of the theater kids come out to represent. They are all dressed to impress. It feels more like a party. At UCSB, anyone who does show up is late, in cut-off shorts and hoodies, texting on their pricey phones. It was really frustrating that the show started so late without apology, to accommodate the students who have been taught that late is still OK for live theater. I disliked playing the whole damn song, which felt too long, screwing up the pace from the get-go.

Reckless as a play is just not that well-written, but it is a cute concept. Centered around the event-ness of Christmas, lots of crazy coincidences. Reckless aspires to be David Lindsay-Abaire, who pulls off zany much better. There were some cute moments, and SuperK really injected great energy into the show. But I was just underwhelmed by the BFA actors. The specialized training I saw was "MUG MUG MUG." These actors are SO desperate for approval, it's distracting. (They are the kind of actors who think every moment of their life should be clapped for.) Don't make me laugh; just make some good choices.

(Your Mother or Your Wife with SuperK as the skeazy gameshow host.)

I got stuck sitting next to Dumbass who thought it was just the best thing ever. He's so cute as a cheerleader, but he seems entirely devoid of critical thought.

But it was really fun to drink margaritas with SuperK and Mev at Chilis and catch up on show gossip.

Halloween postscript

1. SuperK astutely observed that Halloween tends to be a super-insane affair at schools with the quarter system. It nicely coincides with the middle of the quarter, when we DON'T get a Fall Break.
2. Additionally, he said that the whole thing was ALMOST worth it when he saw some kid run outside to puke, only to turn around and slip on it.
   
3. Who knew that Halloween is a long-weekend event with all day parties? I know I didn't.
4. Halloween at IV this year was nearly twice as populated this year, but students complained that they were "under surveillance" with the proportionately doubled police presence.
5. I found a Rainbow Brite costume that is damn awesome, and if it gets marked down any further, I will require people to be my Sprites next year.
6. It makes me miss the clever costumes of Chicago (breathalyzer anyone?), as well as its attendant snark.

Dentists can be fun too

While I will never get excited about going to the dentist, or dropping a C-note for each cavity, the UCSB dentists I have had lately have definitely made the visits more entertaining.

The GSHIP insurance may require a steep co-pay for prescriptions, but it does include dental. For the first time since I graduated from college, I went to the dentist. Because of the permanent retainer I have, the cleaning was so nice. Also nice - talking to a normal person. She managed to squeeze me in even after I ended up 10 minutes late. She was originally from Ohio, friendly but still productive, and she was just as happy to find another person from Ohio.

Sadly, she found 4 cavities. Not pleased, but they were all in an early state, and mostly in really obvious places. And if in the 7 years since the last visit, that's the extent of damage, I can deal.

On Wednesday, I went into knock out 3 of them. And the banter between the dentist and hygienist was so entertaining, I barely noticed the whole cavity thing. Dentist is two weeks out on her bachelorette party, which will be at this awesome Pan-Asian restaurant up in SF that apparently involves drag queens. The conversation drifted to other bachelorette parties they had planned or attended. With all the stripper horror stories. Because which is worse - the male stripper who looks like an older version of Richard Simmons or who looks like the brother of the bride? Try not laughing with that much equipment in your face. Because it was the day after election, there was much Obama excitement.

They are really funny, but how do you find a way to socialize with your dentists?

Modeling

For reasons I haven't really figured out, I find myself modeling on more than one occasion. When I was an undergrad, I almost got burned by it, when I discovered that a picture of me was in the art gallery attached to the theatre and directly behind the AIA table where all the classicists were congregating.

Tonight, I did a pinch-hit modelling for a friend of mine from many lives ago, who is now at Brooks for photography. A product shot for headphones. He knew exactly what he was looking for, which made part of it really easy. Not so easy - supporting my head off the side of a table for any length of time. And I realised that I am either a really good model or a really bad one. I am great at being posed. (tilt down, arm here, etc.) Not so good at improvising poses on my own. Fortunately the other model was, which just gave me more time to play Guitar Hero.

I think it is all part of my weird relationship with theatre. I am not an actress, but a director, an organizer/manager. Improv makes me even more awkward. But I love dancing and competing and performance. Maybe it's the safety of the choreography or being able to cover my ass with the presence of at least one other person.

A perk

Sometimes living in Santa Barbara isn't the dream that it looks like. More hours spent holed up reading theory than basking on the beach.

But sometimes it really is that cool. Like when SuperK and I have event meals along the water.

Sunday, we celebrated the fact that both of us had the same day off. SuperK wanted to go back to this one place on Las Positas, and it was pretty awesome. Brunch at the Boathouse on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, tucked into a cliff along the dog beach, with lovely wait-staff scenery (both SuperK and I left our numbers - choose your own adventure!). And the food wasn't bad either! Vanilla bean french toast with strawberry butter and applewood bacon.


Today, I took SuperK out to Sushi Go-Go for his birthday, which overlooks the Harbor. The menu had some cool offerings, plus we got to watch them sling a tugboat over water. It was a tasty lunch, in perfect weather - a great diversion for a Wednesday!


Sadly, not every day is a picnic. In the meantime, I have to get my scenic snacks by smuggling cinnamon almonds and dried cranberries onto the 8th floor of the library.

on the tube: House on the DVR.

Halloween costume: Grumpy Old Fart

Halloween is only fun when you have a group to prowl with and a quiet place to go home to. Otherwise, Halloween is a world-class pain in the ass.

SuperK and I spent this evening trying to run away from the dorm and its attendant bullshit. We wanted to time going out for food so as to optimize the escape. He had a party to wear his Citizen V costume to, looking so damn creepy, like he walked straight out of my nightmares. Although it was damn special when he was trying pieces on, after we gave the wig a trim.

(because even Citizen V has to text too)

I felt really lame, and super old-fart-y, because I decided to go to my nice quiet office to get work done. Then I made SuperK pick me up and listen to my "Why do all girls have to dress like sluts" rant. Because seriously, why? I saw a M/F couple in matching Incredibles costumes. He was fully covered, complete with foam pecs/shoulders. She had the top, plus little black bloomers (emphasis on little), with black nylon thigh highs and stilettos. In case the slut-factor was not sufficient, the fact of the matter is she didn't even look like Elasti-Girl, which was extra obvious, when his costume looked so good. And Halloween brings out the Tim Gunn in me, because I find it just trashy when girls pad around in thigh highs, stopping every few steps to hike them up because the girls don't believe in garter belts (which straight boys assure me are sexy), or choosing shoes they can actually walk in for any period of time. Besides looking super-tacky, it's dangerous with all the broken beer bottles.

Then SuperK and I got stopped trying to park in our lot. I was happy they were checking, and thus keeping out the random kids who didn't belong there. But it was a little weird that they started in on the "no overnight-visitors allowed". The only thing weirder was when they assumed that I was SuperK's out-of-town girlfriend. I pretty much just leaned over and assured him that 1. we were grad students and 2. he's gay. Besides, if he was gonna bring home some random girl, why would he bring home a nerd in a muppets t-shirt, 2nd hand pants and a rainbow sweater, when he could have Hoochy *insert occupation here*?

In retrospect, the noise levels could have been much worse, and they did put the contientious RC on call, instead of the slack-ass mooch getting free rent to answer the phone and tell me to deal with it my own damn self, even if it meant calling the police.

on iTunes: "A Man Called Sun" - the Verve

My weird habits

• I am addicted to information. I go into a mini-panic whenever I don't have my phone on me, or perish the thought, I don't have internet. it's part of why i got a laptop - because I constantly have stupid little questions that will irk me until i get an answer. having portable search is way better. for example, I can't watch a movie on TV without checking imdb at least once. so instead of jumping up and missing something, I would just bring the laptop in. Learned that trick at Yellow House.
• Along with this addiction to information, I love learning new things. I can easily spend the better part of an hour clicking through links that lead me to MPIs and the awesomeness of St. Vitus (patron saint of dance because of of the apraxia not the other way around, also performers and oversleepers and Prague).
• So in that sense, it's great to be in grad school. on the other, it makes it so hard to commit to a topic or have the attention span to focus on it. that's the real reason it takes me so damn long to do anything - because I am constantly interrupted with random queries.
• Also - I hate the look people give me when I try to explain my interest in weird diseases. I hate apologizing for being interested in something entirely unrelated to theatre-dance, and something most of the people I talk to know nothing about. grr.
  

Isla Vista

Quick local geography lesson:
University of California Santa Barbara is actually located in Goleta. Within Goleta, there is a non-incorporated neighborhood on the edge of the beach, called Isla Vista. Mostly, this is a concentration of undergrad party people. (This is where all the frats are, along with the only places around that are open 24/7). El Colegio marks the north end of IV, and I live on the other side.

On one hand, I love being able to walk to the student slacker mass, and other emergency needs. And they have an impressive beer distributor. It's the only strip of bars within walking distance. Makes is really to know where NOT to live.

On the other - what a trainwreck. Halloween is reported to be totally off-the-hook here. Not just drunken Court Street in Athens. Emails from the university suggest this event is not just crazy, but potentially dangerous. The central park in IV will host an emergency first-aid tent, which doesn't just dole out band-aids and ice packs, but also provides for victims of alcohol poisoning AND sexual assault! Yikes. This wasn't just the "know your resources" kind of thing. But the emails also suggest that the university is more interested in collecting fines for possession than protecting students. Charming.

That said, part of me would love to live on the bluffs. But not enough to deal with rampant drunkenness, or paying a shitload of money to SHARE a bedroom. And there are some pretty parks, and prettier street names (Sueno, Abrego, Sabado Tarde), all of which confirm its emphasis on leisure.

Next week, I am so doing the sunset yoga though!

Massage

The whole idea of "getting a massage" sounds so indulgent. Especially for a grad student at the mercy of financial aid. But I consider it part of a larger health treatment/stress maintenance. The past few days have been pretty rough, so it was nice to take some time to do something completely frivolous. Well, not completely, since I found a school that offers massages by their students at a discount.

And of course, one massage is never enough. But it did make me much more body aware and integrated. What a difference human contact can make. It was interesting to feel/find different points that hold or release tension. The technique of the masseuse was very lengthening. It felt like a mile between my ears and my sacrum. And now I feel all moisturized, even slick. (Makes sitting cross-legged really entertaining). If only I could find a way to incorporate massage into a more regular routine.

Medieval

The article about violence in education, combined with the lecture on education as torture in Pedagogy couldn't have been better timed. Particularly Prudentius' image of the scholar dying of a thousand stylus stabs.

We're approaching midterm, which at the grad level is not about exams, but fighting apathy and the mental exhaustion. I can't complain too much actually, since unlike some grads here, I am not teaching or in production. And unlike Lil Sis at OU, I am only taking 3 classes. So it's not even the work itself as much as all the little stylus pokes, like fighting financial aid, or adapting to the California-ness, or reckoning with all the little things I had not anticipated. Scholarship involves an element of masochism. Hurts so good (like my trip to the dentist this afternoon). And sometimes you don't realise the extent of your injuries until there is actually blood dripping.

All of this came to a head on Wednesday night, when I had finally committed to going to Athens to visit. Found the one window where I don't have African Theatre one week, combined with a pass on my Chicano Studies class. I accepted the expense, its inherent frivolousness, and the work I would have to do academically to accommodate it, because I value my sanity, and I miss my Ohio life. Then I read that the class I was going to teach had been rescheduled, inconveniently the same day my final paper is due in Pedagogy (even though it is only week 8 of 11). And since I still hadn't gotten any feedback on my topic proposals, it wasn't something I could churn out early. And all of these conflicts made the impractical completely impossible. There was mini-meltdown.

When I started this process, I accepted that I would have to make sacrifices. I didn't realise that I would have to sacrifice not only a social life here and now, but also the opportunity to maintain any of the other lives I have created along the way. The phrase "What the hell is the point?" rang out. But, being me, I responded to this by eating cake and doing research. Just what is required of me; how long will it take; what are my options. Ultimately, I can be less than social or happy for 4 years of my life, and have the degree to spend the rest of my life doing what I want. Or I could drop out, be miserable in some desk job for alot longer than 4 years, and have to live with the fact that I give up (which I just cannot do). Really, academia is my natural habitat.

I have come up with a list of alternatives and new academic reasons for flying back to the east coast. Not the least of which is a dance conference at Hollins (a short 4 hour drive from Athens), the theme of which is Global Feminisms. Hello!

on Pandora: "Pale Shelter" - Tears for Fears

What grad students talk about

When we aren't discoursing or dialoguing about theory and its applications to performance blah blah blah, here is what grad students talk about:

1. What is your favorite apple? This was hotly debated in my Cultural Studies class, I wish I could say it wasn't about color, because it just oversimplifies red/yellow/green, not fully appreciating the fine distinctions between Gala, Macintosh and Granny Smith.
2. The image of a hormone-pumped chicken with huge breasts is still funny, despite what it reveals about agribusiness. Even better - the idea of buffaloes being farmed that way. (Thanks Trader Joe for clearing up that the buffalo, like that used in its jerky, is NOT endangered.)
3. Do blind people worry about fashion? If I was blind, would it be ok for me to be naked, since I wouldn't care what I looked like? This is what happens when you have a bunch of overanalytical people who are underfed or underrested and seeing trailers for a movie called Blindness.

Clearly we all need to get out more. I would also add we all need to drink more beer.

When Bad Bikes Attack

UCSB is definitely a bike community. Trails run all over the place. Isla Vista has largely been abandoned by cars because it is overrun with bikes. And the fact that it is always acceptable bike weather (mild temps, not alot of rain) adds to the appeal.

Originally, I had planned on buying a bike when I got here, but SuperK already had a bike that he didn't use much. But it turned on me. Bad Bike and I had a couple of run-ins before, but I was willing to dismiss them as me being out of practice, and the bike being a boy-bike (thus a bit out of size for me). However, these were mini-skids or loss of balance. Not the full-on attack of Friday.

Friday, I jumped on the bike to head over to Santa Ynez offices to research (transl: raise hell) about San Clemente housing. En route, the bike decided to take out its aggressions on me. In a quick instant, I felt like I couldn't steer. Next moment - I am sprawled most inelegantly across the parking lot. This would also be the one day I wore a skirt. And there was one person, (boy of course) to witness my wipeout and whatever color undies I wore that day. Now I am covered in bruises in weird places where either I landed or the bike landed on me, and a bunch of charming scrapes. After I picked myself up, I saw that one brake seized, and the chain came of all 21 gears. I was able to make it operable again. But it finally made up my mind to break down and buy my own bike. Ideally one that liked me.

Now, I am the proud owner of a matte periwinkle beach cruiser, complete with basket and comfy seat. The tires have a matching periwinkle rims under their fenders. Leather grips. I'm still trying to adapt to this totally different bike. It doesn't have gears or handbrakes. The handlebar is curved and wide. And these coaster brakes are totally weird to me. But it's so cute, and I'm so cute pedaling it.

Catching up on my shows

Thursday nights have become the time for me to do a bit of a brain-dump. Last night, I accidentally slept through the Teatro Chicana event, and I skipped ballroom practice. Why learn basic swing when I could sit around and clear out the TiVo with SuperK? (I know I should work on my fundamentals and technique, but the impulse to advance or try teaching can be too much of a temptation.)

I love our DVR. I am never around for the first airings, and I prefer watching my shows at odd hours as a stretch break from my reading. And Thursday nights in particular are a great chance to catch up and clean out the DVR.

House: What an interesting episode! Crazy diagnosis and we learn about House and Wilson's relationship. This show never fails to grab my interest. Maybe the delving into the personal is just trendy, since the new SVU was also really good. Watching Hugh Laurie or Christopher Meloni work can give me goosebumps. Their eye-candy-ness doesn't hurt either.

Grey's Anatomy: I feel dirty for liking this show in the first place, but it does work as a great mind-dump. It's great to see less and less of Cry-Face Meredith. And in case I didn't love George enough, the scene with him bodily snatching the kid out of the gruesome surgery and connecting, was precious and brilliant. 2nd fave - him getting all bad-ass on the whiny girls.

Project Runway: Actually, we watched this live, but I re-watched it last night. Kenley continues to drive me crazy, and her collection was chaotic. I will say that I covet her mandarin collar beige silk dress with flowers. But when Leann's collection came along, I was just blown away. Sublime! Cohesive, flawlessly executed and styled, obviously Leann. Probably the best final runway show I've seen. If she didn't win, I would have given up Project Runway altogether. Korto's collection was interesting and innovative, but I didn't love some of the looks and th imperfect color palatte.

Also on the DVR - When Weather Changes History - the Chicago Fire. Yeah history+science+Chicago!

But now that it's Friday, I need to run errands and start my African Theater reading.

Beach post-script

As soon as I posted my last entry, I had a little realisation. I have always lived near water. I'm not sure if this is a function of settlement patterns, or something more subconscious at work. I remember what a thrill it was to drive to the VA Beach after ER parties at William and Mary to avoid more work. It took about an hour to drive there in Spamber's Taurus, then the appropriate bumming on the sand before the guilt kicked back in. Charlottesville had trails running along the Rivanna River.

Living in Chicago, I lived right along the Lake. It was a one mile walk from my place to North Ave beach. Spent many quality hours walking along the lake downtown, or driving along the lovely Lake Shore Drive.

And my apartment in Athens was less than a mile from the Hocking River. Which wasn't terribly scenic, but it was still a body of water, and way more interesting to read/run along.

Now, I live half a mile from an honest-to-goodness beach. With sand and ocean! Extra bonus - the weather tends to be gorgeous, and beach-conducive. I am excited at the proximity, as well as the fact that I am in a lifestyle/schedule that allows me to visit it. As the Domestic God put it - if you are going to spend 5 years in hell, it might as well be in paradise!

Carving out some beach time

For the past month, I have been trying to make time to go to the beach. I have managed a quick walk coming back from campus errands, but no quality time. I was thwarted by scheduling, weather and my own vampire hours. Like this weekend was sunny, but super windy, kicking up large particles.

Today, I woke up a bit early, did my morning routine, then put on my bikini and biked down to the beach. The first access was all clogged up with seaweed, which is not uncommon in Santa Barbara. Last night's full moon seems to have churned up extra yuckies. Also, since I arrived during high tide, there wasn't alot of sand to bask on. But Isla Vista has a nice little park with some cliff overhangs. They also have a great place to hang a hammock, but that space was taken. (well, that I and I don't have a hammock)

It was really gorgeous to sit up on the cliff in the sun. My time at the beach wasn't all play, though. In my bag, along with my water bottle and towel, I had a pile of plays and articles to read for my class tomorrow. Strangely, I found my focus really good. Blame the white noise of waves, or the perfect low-80s temperature.

Go go multitasking!

Ringtone

After weeks of mulling, I finally changed my ringtone. This was a long time coming. Partially because I have the same ringtone for ages. I generally choose the weirdest ringtone on my phone. Unfortunately, so does my mom. Nothing like the eerie moment in the car when a cell rings and both of us dive for our phones. Ouch.

So I had been shopping around for a new ringtone. The options on T-Mobile were much more extensive than I had expected. It ended up me on the couch playing snippets for SuperK to find the perfect ringtone - catchy, interesting, possible conversation-starter, but not too annoying, brain-sticky or spring-y or so much fun I would never answer the phone because I was listening to it. The decision - "Galvanize" by Chemical Brothers. Tres cool. Now I just need people to call me!

on Jango: "Can You Feel It" - Apples in Stereo

UC Goleta

A little detail they don't put in the brochure - UC Santa Barbara is actually situated in Goleta. This is a great source of confusion for mail delivery, since the mail is sorted at the UCSB location in SBA, but all non USPS deliveries are addressed to Goleta. For the most part, this is more an oddity than problem. But the more I try to do things around the area, the more glaring it becomes. For one, most of the bars are in Santa Barbara, which is actually like 10 miles down 101. I have been spoiled, since I have almost always been able to walk to/from the bar. And while I know California is Car-Culture, I thought the college-town-ness might have exempted us.

This evening, I decided to run some errands in Ventura. Because SBA/Goleta don't believe in Big Box stores (or drive-thrus apparently). Unfortunately, to get to Ventura, you must drive thru Santa Barbara, and its associated traffic. It's amazing. As soon as you cross the city line, the cars back up. Of course this errand took twice as long as I anticipated. Also a pisser - the Brita I bought doesn't work with our faucet which will require another trek to return it. And as pretty as it was to watch the moon rise over brake lights, I think I will try the drive at a different hour.

Goleta is north of SBA, which was great driving back from the wedding in San Francisco, but since I will be generally heading in the opposite direction, it's rather a hassle. Also a hassle - the fact that it takes 10 minutes just to walk to my car, which really cuts down on the spontaneous trips. But it's good, because between the walk to the car and the lack of drive-thrus, I am way less likely to succumb to the fast food crave. And since the elevator doesn't work in the parking garage, I get to hike the 4 flights to my car. By Christmas, my butt should be GORGEOUS.

on Pandora: "Sweet Lemonade" - Monster Movie

Balinese performance

This weekend offered a wealth of Asian theatre at the UCs. I opted against driving down to UCLA for a Peking Opera performance, since I have a lot of reading to do. Instead, I decided to stay local for a performance by a Balinese troupe - Gamelan Sekar Jaya.

Like everything around here, it was not what I expected. For one, it was in a very small, hidden theatre, and it was sold out. Got in on the waitlist. Also, I expected more dance, but given the small stage, there wasn't the room. It was filled with 13 musicians, their percussion-based instruments, leaving a very small little runway for a single dancer. Because it was so crowded, it was difficult to see anything.

The music was very interesting, less tonal than I would have thought. Metallic percussion, rhythm. There was a leader from Java and a Berkeley prof as MC. Unfortunately, the leader and one of the dancers were the only ethnic people on stage. It was a group of white guys, probably hippie grad students from Berkeley. There was one dance that would have been prelude to a theatre performance, but the focus was much more on the musical structure than dramatic function or tradition. I enjoyed the music, but with more theatre to read, it was hard to sit at a concert. It didn't help that it was really warm and I didn't tend to my sleeping sickness, so I felt really rude when I realised I was dozing off.

Squeaky Wheel becomes an Advocate

For the past few weeks, I have been fighting different manifestations of the Man. The endless hold-times combined with totally unhelpful responses have permanently shortened my fuse for dealing with this crap. The fact that all of these calls have to be made on East Coast time makes things even more obnoxious, especially since I am on the West Coast, and I keep vampire hours. Only now am I starting to get a handle on them.

1. Insurance: I am still trying to resolve the final claim from my OU health insurance. Apparently the insurance didn't understand why a diagnosis of prolonged fatigue would require a visit to the sleep clinic. Then it got caught up in appeals and "codes". Since I am not in Ohio to deal with this, I actually have to be more mindful of it. After calling the 2 people at OU, the insurance company, and 2 contacts at the sleep clinic, I finally found the right person. When I talked to her, she had my entire file right in front of her with details. And within an hour, she had pretty much rectified the whole situation. Then she called me to promise to call me when it was finally resolved! How I miss the East Coast sometimes.

2. Student loan #1. Wachovia nee ACS takes advantage of the flux of student life, much to my infinite frustation. Apparently the day I graduated from OU, my undergrad loans came due. The 6-month grace period that they promise you is only a one-time deal. And once you use it, that's it. Thanks for that detail. Wachovia insists that they sent me lots of mail and called me, but the mail sent to my PARENTS' address never looked urgent enough for them to forward it along. Even when I looked at it, I didn't see anything - no payment stubs, no red letters. The phone calls were voicemail, mostly when I was traveling (in EUROPE), but didn't indicate the reason for the call. As a result, I suddenly went 60 days then 90 days overdue. When I finally talked to the bank, they put the loan in forebearance, since I was a student at UCSB. But during the 3 months between programs, the bank says that I am not a student. What does that make me?

While I don't have to pay off that loan yet, my credit record now says that I don't pay my bills on time. I made more calls, but they refuse to correct my report because I was not physically sitting in class, I was not a student, therefore, I was liable for my loan. Then they tried to chew me out for not being more proactive! Do I look like someone who lets things slide?? If I KNEW it was a problem, I would have dealt with it much earlier.

Now, I am drafting a letter to Wachovia to advocate for a different model for students. We are not average, "normal" borrowers. Our lifestyle is very different from those customers who have salaried jobs and whose local address matches their permanent address. Students move; they travel out of the country; they don't make money so they don't spend alot of time talking to banks. Assuming that one piece of mail to an address that may or may not be local, that may or may not even catch my attention among the pile of other mailings, is the best way to get payment from a student. These methods were developed for a different customer population.

3. Student loan #2. I have embraced the fact that as a graduate student, even as an academic, I will have to monitor my budget. I will probably always be in some flavor of debt, and my cabinets will always have a supply of rice and beans (unless the stipend check is late). But the fact that UCSB executively decided that their financial aid was SO good they canceled my federal loan. A couple of things about that.

• I am the first to admit that my financial aid package is very generous.
• The University developed a budget of living expenses, but it only accounts for 9-months out of the year. Last time I checked, I have bills 12 months out of the year.
• FAFSA said I qualified for a subsidized loan, which I accepted, but it was the University blocked it.
• I really don't lead a rock-star lifestyle, to the point of penny-pinching. You know all those websites with recommendations for cutting your expenses - I was there years ago. The Civic is paid off. I haven't been inside a Starbucks in months. My cell plan is the cheapest one around because it is 6 years old.
  
• I don't expect the University to pay my bills, but I do need the access to funds so that I can.

The first person at Financial Aid suggested that I just put it on my credit card. I thought he was kidding. He wasn't! Credit card debt = bad. Student loan debt = less bad. The second person told me to fill out a Request for Budget Increase, which explicitly refuses to account for car repairs (my check engine light is on and I need a new catalytic converter, which is necessary if I am going to pass CA emissions and complete my residency), or grad travel (conferences and research needed to make my degree more than just a piece of paper). She was nice, but couldn't help me. I met with the assistant director today, but she offered me a ray of hope. Basically, if I fill out a sheaf of paperwork, she can make exceptions. The budget works great for in-staters who only need to drop a tank of gas or train ticket to get home, but less great for those of us who have to use airplanes.

Here is what I learned. Persevere and self-advocate. If you make enough phone calls, you will eventually find a person with either the information or authority to help. When that doesn't work, write letters. I feel very strongly about advocating for students. Students shouldn't have to waste time trying to hack through red tape and labyrinths of customer service circuits, trying to fit into expectations or lifestyles that just don't match their realities.

Now that I have started putting out some fires, I can focus on other things. Like my mountain of laundry overflowing from my closet.

on the tube: House

Cultural studies

While I like to think that all of this grad school has a good influence on me, I wonder if it isn't sucking the fun out of me. It has made me hyper-aware and a bit more cynical. Then again, it also gives me a new appreciation for other things. It's tweaking my sense of humor. When two articles jump out in the same day, there is no ignoring.

The first covers a new YouTube phenomenon. A redux of "Take On Me" by A-ha video, where they pretty much redid the video by literally narrating. It's hilarious! Combines two of my favorite things - 80s New Wave and the postmodern!

The other was meant to be funny, but the more I thought about it, the more it bugged me. Dumb criminal story. A couple of guys found guilty of blaring their music were subjected to "creative sentencing." Instead of the usual fine or mundane slap on the wrist, these guys were sentenced to 20 hours of classical music, to combat their taste in rap. On one hand, it's poetic. On the other, (and here is where all that theory starts to kick in), ridiculously elitist. Just Monday, my Cultural Studies class was discussing Marxist responses to mass culture, which pretty much ended up mass culture = pop culture = bad. High art = "authentic" = good, thus privileging stuff generated by singular "genius" such as classical music, Impressionist painting, and other things by dead white guys. Isn't a little elitist, even racist, to privilege classical over rap? And who is to say you can't blare classical? Then again, no one would be called out on for blaring classical.

To combat, I watch crappy Grey's Anatomy.

Advisors

Throughout my academic career, I have been really spoiled by my mentors. At William and Mary, I remember getting replies to my panic, tear-soaked 3AM emails within hours. And he told me to step away from AutoCAD and get some sleep, and then he would help me. Yet again.

At Ohio, my mentor was 100% amazing. Besides being super-available, he has the distinct talent for making you feel brilliant, despite any disorganized blathering you threw at his feet. Besides being amazing intelligent, he was always very supportive. And superfun to have a drink and conversation with.

Now that I am in my PhD program, things have changed a bit. My advisor is very interesting, shares some of my research interests, and I hear he dances. But he's a hard guy to nail down. And most of the other professors are super-eager to pawn me off to the next person or just focus on the one class I am taking with them. I don't know if it's a PhD thing or just a California thing.

So when I had questions about CFPs, I instinctively emailed DrJ at OU. And he called me back. With his usual prompt, insightful and inspiring energy. I don't know what I would do without him!

Muffin attack

The sheer quantity of crap thrown at me on Friday went beyond humorous to actually scary. Cosmic Muffin didn't just get bored - it got vindictive.

Fridays = no classes. For grad students this is supposed to be a day for "research." In reality, it's the day you run all your errands. For me, this also includes making all those phone calls that have to be made during "normal business hours" which are inevitably on East Coast time. Unfortunately, this also involves burning cell minutes on hold. And apparently getting the run-around without resolution. So now I have to make yet another round of phone calls this Friday.

Running errands in Santa Barbara is also a challenge. Partially because I am still learning my way around town. Partially because I still underestimate traffic. Deposited my fellowship in the only branch of my bank in the area, which is on the opposite side of town. Then got hose down my car because it was infested with ants. I'm not sure how or why, since the windows were up and there wasn't any food/drink. And I'm not talking about a couple of stray ants. I'm talking multiple trails. I blame the construction at my apartment, which has made my car so dirty I can barely see out the windows. Forgot my bag in the car at Trader Joe's, and I couldn't find my TJ lo mein to replace what SuperK accidentally ate. Had to go to 4 different stores to get stuff I should I have just been able to get at Staples. Didn't make it to the post office. Went to the parking lot to meet the mail truck which left early. (It's only in the lot from 2-4 M-F to pick up oversized mail) UGH!

Suddenly it was nearly 4. I was super grumpy, and I was expected to attend the undergrad convocation for the department. But first, I had to pick up my course packets in IV. Biked down there to find out that they messed up my special order, thinking I just wanted the regular comb-bound packets. When I special-ordered them to be 3-hole punched because they are so damn huge, I don't want to carry 2.5inches of photocopies around. So they had to recopy both 700-page packets for me. (PS that's like $200 worth of course packets). Then I got a call from Mail Services insisting that the truck never left the lot, but that I could pick up my package directly from Mail Services before 5. By the time I explained that I wouldn't have missed a big white truck, I had about 12 minutes to bust ass down Los Carneros to get my book (and alot of attitude). Really? Why would I make this up? By the time I picked up my book (not the expensive textbook I have been waiting for and actually need this week), and they finished properly copying my packets (without so much as an apology), I had missed convocation. (Apparently they tried to introduce me, but I wasn't there. Awkward much?)

Being a couple flavors of fed up, I just decided to go to the Habit to get a cheeseburger and milkshake, because at the rate the Cosmic Muffin was going, my apartment would probably have caught on fire if I tried making food. But the road was blocked, involving a long detour. Got home, curled up and gave up. Only to be deafened by the sound of undergrads shrieking in the halls.

Yup, that's right. San Clemente is NOT grad housing as advertised, but rather overflow housing for undergrads where some grad students got suckered into living. Undergrads are loud, and the echoey architecture only exacerbates this. Closing the windows only cuts the shrill, but I still hear every drunk 19year old word clearly. And because this place is so disorganized, there is no one to complain to.

The Cosmic Muffin is relentless. It was really hard not only because of the individual piles of crap, but the fact that I got NOTHING accomplished, and I wasted my one day a week to do it. And I am still dealing with it (there is some hall-bonding game outside that involves screaming right now). I have an appointment with Financial Aid on Thursday, and will be hunting down a landline for all the bullshit phone calls I get to make. Again.

on iTunes: "High Rise" - Ladytron

Dusting off the dance shoes

In less than a week, I have already been dancing twice, and will probably go out again tonight. It's awesome!

As an undergrad, I was in the ballroom dance club. Then I was on the team. Then I was suddenly captain. At one point, I was dancing 4 or 5 times a week, practicing with my partner, teaching, socializing. A total blast. Sometimes it feels like a million years ago.

I tried with various levels of success to keep up my dancing, but life and budget can interfere. Back in a university setting, there are lots of opportunities, and they are much more affordable. (As much as I crave private lessons, I don't have the $80 a pop to drop on them). Last Saturday, there was a swing dance with band. Tonight a community dance. And last night was team practice focusing on International Rumba (technique) and American Foxtrot (yawn). It felt really good to focus on my technique instead of just following the same three steps at a social dance. I was dancing with good dancers! And as subtly as possible, I was able to coach a couple people.

My shoes made me stick out. Which was a good thing. People knew I had done this before. If nothing else, I got alot of compliments on them, which is funny given how thoroughly ratty they have become. If I keep this up, I will have to buy new ones!

On one hand, it's hard to justify going out dancing when I have mountains of reading to do. Then again, if my research is dancing, doesn't that count? Besides, it's good to get out, hang out with non-theatre people, move around, use a different part of my brain. And it is always such a charge!

on Pandora: "Girl on the Wing" - The Shins

Closet Cubs fans

To support the team, I am wearing my Cubs shirt today. They are division winners playing against LA Dodgers in Game 2 tonight, at Wrigley. I should not be this excited.

But it's an interesting social moment. Wearing Cubs regalia in Chicago goes largely unnoticed since so many people do it (unless you're on the South Side in Sox territory). Now I am wearing not only Chicago gear, but in potentially enemy territory, since so many UCSB kids are from LA. What is more surprising is not the sneers, but rather the cheers. It seems to empower all the closet Cubs fan, who give me a little Woo. Likewise, even when I am not wearing my shirt, I am likely to give a Woo to someone else wearing Cubs gear. We're in the minority, but it is a neat sense of inclusive and community.

A pet peeve of mine, though, is that the game conflict with the VP debates. Since I haven't figured out how to DVR one thing and watch another. So I am watching the game, but following the debate highlights online, which is rather backwards of me. But since I already feel pretty strongly about my VP options, it would probably only reinforce my thoughts on it.

The bigger issue I have actually, is that WGN doesn't get to air the game. 1. I prefer the way WGN covers games (I don't need that personal interest crap - I need to watch the game). 2. WGN is a Chicago station, but they don't get to cover a local game. 3. TBS coverage is exclusive to cable, meaning all those fans without cable can't watch the game.

As a compromise to my work and schedule, I will only watch until the Cubs get on the board. But I also toy with the idea of driving down to LA this weekend to further agitate and maybe get some standing room seats.

Grad sensitivity

As I stare into my closet, trying to decide what I want to wear today, I suddenly became paranoid. Because I am still trying to introduce and present myself to the grad program. People are still getting to know me, my 12 year old fashion sense, and special brand of humor. And today I have my first African drama class. For the first time since junior high (first dates excluded), I worry about what my clothes say about me. Can't wear the cool deconstructed earth tone tank for fear it might suggest that I subliminally consider African drama piecey or primitive. But on the other end, wearing any of my 7 Shakespeare shirts seems to support the Dead White Man, the Coloniser. Skipped past the Lilith Fair t-shirt, but not because I am a closet women's studies girl (like one of the other new PhDs - which just seems to defeat the purpose).

And it happened yesterday too! I was running late for the first class in Cultural Studies in the Chicano/a Studies department. Apologized profusely and sat down. When asked to introduce myself, I used the more correct Spanish/French sounding pronunciation of my last name. Like it somehow gave me street-cred to be in the class when I was in Theatre-Dance. I was selling out, only in reverse!

A quick note about my last name. I generally use a more anglicanized pronunciation for 2 reasons. 1. Most people panic trying to say it correctly, and the short-i sound is just more familiar. 2. The short-i sound is more assonant with my first name. It just goes. And when people use the more ethnic pronunciation of my last name, my first name sounds out of place.

Now I am in a place where people are more likely to know how to pronounce my last name correctly. Which has me facing a dilemma - do I use the correct and also ethnic pronunciation because I can/should? Or do I continue introducing myself as I always have, because it's what I consider MY name?

In my graduate-school world of theory, analysis and hyper-awareness, I notice these things. I just have to remind myself of what our crusty Greek professor said to one of my classmates - "You worry about the dumbest things."

on Pandora: "My Own Good" - Louis

L.A. is crazy

Los Angeles is only 100 miles away from Santa Barbara, but it's like another planet.

Likewise, LA people consider 100 miles a nearly-insurmountable distance. When I was living in Charlottesville, I was used to driving 100 miles to get to Washington for all its city-amenities. In the past month, I have traveled thousands of miles. So 100 miles really seems pretty piddly to me. Then again, that was before I spent an hour looking for parking.

Met up with my former mentor and his friends. Cut through the Venice Arts Festival which I so need to spend more time at next year. Was introduced to friends of friends, who inevitably were famous. How L.A. We walked to the canals of Venice, plotted the purchase of one of the houses, then using the Toy to find the cars. It was a series of driving from one car to the next. M had to head to the theatre for call. Guy Smiley and his partner and I headed to the Museum of Jurassic Technology, while commenting on the insanity of car culture and humanity of LA.

The Museum was a cross between Wunderkammer and postmodern installation art with a healthy dose of WTF going on. The more you tried to think about it, the less it made sense. Just embrace it. Play Cat's Cradle with your teacher and look through the 3-D opera glasses and smile. It didn't help that I jumped into analyst mode, trying to apply what I learned in my museology class. Must go back.

Then we headed over to the Kirk Douglas Theater (yup, he was there) for opening night of This Beautiful City. Sort of the movie Saved meets the play Laramie Project with music. Interesting, but I'm not sure what the agenda really was. But from my complimentary seat up in the air, I had a great view of an equally confused audience.

I think the best way to sum up my experience is the Sad Tranny Clown Longs Drug at Rose & Main.

Well-matched

Based on our instantaneous connection, I am convinced that SuperK and I must have known each other in a past life or something. Which is how I knew that we could live together. And our well-matched-ness continues to manifest in new ways.

We are slowly settling into life and the apartment. I am borrowing his bike until I find one of my own. We both hated the pedal cages, so I just busted out my tools and removed them. SuperK has much better taste than I, so he wanted an entertainment center for the TV/DVR/DVD/Wii, etc. And he saw that the back of the book case currently offered up might come off. I figured out how. I also mentioned how we could add more shelves. He has the taste, I have the tools.

The living room and kitchen look civilized, if without hanging art. (But SuperK did bring an awesome, mesmerizing clock). I have unpacked about a third of my books and need to put together more shelves. Instead, I think I will eat dinner and go out, lest I be really lame.

on the tube: House marathon

Kidnapped

Today started fairly productive. Got an oil change (finally), ran a couple of errands. Then SuperK and I walked down to IV to try to get the packet for 270A, which STILL isn't ready. But when I crossed the street, my day changed. First, I found a wealth of used books, supplies, UCSB swag. Better variety and cheaper. I ended up with a sweet purse, two randomly cool books, an offsize notebook and my twintip for $11. And as I was walking around, I met two people from Chicano/a Studies. Suddenly, the 3 of us were running errands, playing Mystery Diagnosis and eating a late lunch at Chilis before a trip to another bookstore.

I didn't make it to the library or to the T&D offices, but I think it was a day well-spent. As my studies pull me further out of the real world, or even the library or my head, it's hard to meet people. And on the fly, I managed to meet two cool grads from a different department.

Actually, people in California are so friendly it is mildly disorienting. People chat in line, smile. Sometimes this is super-frustrating, because I just want to get my shit done. And it's hard to get mad when they are so pleasant. My current favorite - the undergrad boy who tried to scramble out of a chair in a computer lab - as he offered me a place to sit, like his lap. Fortunately, he pulled off "charming" rather than "sketchy."

I hope I get to enjoy more of these random meetings. I also hope I get to the library tomorrow.

the First Day of the Rest of Your Life

no pressure or anything.

Forgive me if I ramble, I am still processing information as I continue to receive new info. And fight not to fall to far behind.

Today, I finally started classes. The Classroom on/as Stage. Sizable seminar, but I finally got to see all of the first years in the same place, including Phantom Major. And meet the 2nd years. Offered teaching philosophies, which at this point in the game felt very immature. First, I haven't done alot of teaching. Second, as the assignment due on the first day of class, it was especially hard to gauge just what was expected. To say nothing of the deliberately vague nature. I opted for philosophical, but apparently the idea was to write a cover letter. The class has great potential to be really probing and insightful, but also to be a navel-gazy nightmare.

Did the meet-and-greet at a professor party, which was especially challenging as I am rapidly losing my voice. Although by the end of the evening, I was rocking a sultry baritone. I am still placing names and faces.

On one hand, this very much conforms to my expectations. It was very reassuring to sit in class and realise that I am very much on the right track. Academia is my native habitat. At the same time, there are so many curve or fly balls, that I find myself running/dodging and getting hit all the time. Like the fact that the tango specialist they got me all excited about won't be coming until next year. Or that my advisor won't be back in town until next week, by which point I need to register for classes. Or that I have an office (if no keys to unlock it).

Yesterday, I ran around for 7 hours doing orientation/set-up stuff. Sat in a big lecture hall from 9-10.30 hearing all about the resources available, most of which none of us will ever get a chance to use. 10.30-11.30 fighting with financial aid. They canceled my loan since they feel that the fellowship is enough to live on. I appreciate that someone is trying to keep me from drowning in student debt, but still. While generous, my fellowship doesn't allow for any margin of error. I can never get sick; the car can never die; and I had better never plan on ever seeing the business end of a plane again. Which means family emergencies AND conferences, which I have been told I need to fund myself to beef up the CV. I don't live luxuriously, but I almost fell out of the chair when the guy said that I should just get a credit card for a safety net. Pass the echinechea and duct tape please. After getting my fellowship check in one line, I then had to turn around and sign it over to the cashier to pay rent and fees. *sigh* This was rather demoralizing, which only made yet another workshop on "Be Your Own Advocate or Get Out Now". Fly by the activities fair before tours of the Arts Library (which DOESN'T have theater OR dance in it) and Davidson Library. Yanked books for a first assignment, walked by the health center to ask a question, only to discover that Californians call 3.30 quitting time. Got home long enough to check email before walking down to IV with SuperK to pick up a course packet that wasn't ready. It was exhausting.

But at least all the clothes are unpacked. I think I have contained most of the fires. Now I just have to take my poor neglected car for an overdue oil change, a quick check and a carwash. It makes me very excited at the prospect of just kicking back tomorrow night with SuperK, some take-away and his "research" (Season 1 of Heroes).

I see old people

To break up hours and days of driving, my mom and I are spending a couple of day in Sedona, AZ. It's absolutely spectacular, in a way that every time I see the red rocks I start giggling. Driving down the windy mountain road was a total blast since the speed limit was 15MPH for a reason. And about halfway down you get your first look. Not just amazing mountains, but color! Holy crap! Mom remains way less impressed than me.

Today was uber-leisurely. Spent some quality time by the pool reading my book. Sitting on the balcony reading my book. Generally avoiding the car. Although sitting by the pool was a little weird. Partially because I am the youngest by a lot. (It also makes the cutest person in a swimsuit). I am a grad student who can't afford to drink the time-share kool-aid. There are people from freakin' Phoenix who own multiple timeshares in Sedona, which is only an hour or so away. And all they can talk about is how great it is to time-share. I wonder if the time-share comes with matching tracksuits. That said, I can't knock it but so much, because the place we are staying is super-nice.

We drove up to the airport mesa to watch sunset. Which was pretty gorgeous and very close to moonrise. Tomorrow we do the Grand Canyon, and hopefully some other hiking on Tuesday. Ha! I make mom hike!


on iTunes: "Bad Education" - Tilly and the Wall

Cross-country recap

Tired and in need of some yoga+House. Here are the highlights:

Ultimate Jerky Outlet
Arkansas is just what you expected
Oklahoma sucks in a variety of ways. Especially in the crappy roads department.
Not enough dead (or alive) armadillos
Everything is bigger in Texas, including gas prices and the bugs.
but New Mexico is absolutely stunning