How the hell is Aramark (who provides food on-campus) not going to send an e-mail out telling folks the cafeteria was going to be closed for a patio dinner?
I don’t want their nasty-ass red meat or critter-infested melon and corn, and Mae’s vegan by necessity. I suspect I won’t even be able to get a meal exchange later, since they weren’t scanning ID cards at the patio dinner.
Continue reading Growl, growl.
Dr. M’s concession to Thursday night Thorning was to schedule our Friday morning meetings for 08:30 instead of 08:15.
Um, yeah. Pfbfpbft.
And both my damn research blocks are still on weekdays… She’s not budging on this “you need a partner [in person] in lab” bit.
Continue reading Research set.
I think I actually learned what a “recovery run” is today.
I spent about 10 hours building my deck in my dorm room two days ago, and have been sore and increasingly immobile since. Particularly, my hamstrings are tighter than steel geetar strings, and I’m limping and hobbling/waddling just to walk around. I haven’t been able to move around enough to warm up sufficiently to stretch, so it’s just getting worse.
So this morning, after five days off from running, I did a nice, slow, easy thirty minute run. I didn’t push myself overly, I just wanted to move for a half-hour to work some of the kinks out.
Continue reading Hobbling along
I finished deck building at something ’til 23:00 last night, and went to bed around 23:30 after skimming the notes for the freshman laptop orientation, which I was due to assist with in the morning.
Come 06:30, I happily bang my head on the deck, then stumble over the computer and monitor Hillary left right next to my bed. As though, you know, they’re mine. As I was crawling back under to find my glasses, I realized just how bruised and battered I felt–my knees feel like someone’s been rubbing them firmly with sandpaper for hours (I wore shorts in the deck-making), and they are bruised something fierce. Then I stood up, and my back left me know about all the little muscles that live in its lower half. My ass hurts. My quads and hams hurt. My arms hurt. I just… hurt. My saving grace was the fact that my shower has beautiful water pressure and is hella hot.
Freshman laptop orientation (sort of) began around 07:30. For the people that work for the technology folks, laptop orientation began at 03:00 when all the laptops were moved from storage to the orientation rooms.
My group of students was being led through orientation by the indomitable Dr. C, whose wife I’ve met previously (she’s a secretary for the Humanities department). The man went through three cups of coffee in the two hours I spent with him, said “dude”, “sweet”, and “awesome” more times than I could count, and has some kind of tattoo covering his upper arms. So the supposedly two-hour orientation was completed in about an hour, with much laughter and fun.
Continue reading Zug, zug–Having a blast.
There was the moment in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, when I got behind the wheel of the car and onto the highway, and realized that I was heading to the closest thing to “home” (in the sense of comfort and relaxation) I feel like I have right now.
There was the lengthy moment after dark en route to Lexington (Kentucky) when my mother and I talked about writing and memoirs and talking, and she revealed to me her struggles to communicate with me–we’re both coming to the realization that we don’t live in the same worlds anymore, and she doesn’t know how to step into mine.
There was the moment in Paris (Kentucky) when my grandmother first realized who it was standing on her porch and made that sound that she (and my father, and my aunts) make–it’s something between an “aww” and an “ohh” and it’s the sound they make for damn near every occassion: surprise, hurt, admiration. Then she made me sit where she could see me without craning her neck. You would think I’d performed a miracle, not lost some weight.
There was the moment when I stepped out of my car and onto Luke’s driveway and realized that I have been living in the city entirely too long.
Continue reading It’s all about the moments.