Wednesday, April 20, 2011
HUH?
I'm SO busy.. I just.. I can't.. Where do I.. How does that.. How can I.. I give up. Raising the white flag. This is my brain going SPLAT!
Monday, April 11, 2011
GRAD SCHOOL
So I'd like to keep my new job as a professor. And even though I spent 19 years in the TV news business, I still must get my master's degree in order to remain a broadcast journalism professor. Three evenings a week, I drive 50 miles one way to take graduate level classes for my Journalism, M.A. I've done this since last summer and must continue to do it until this coming December in order to graduate.
But I have to say. This semester is just about too much for my wee brain to handle. I've got to write two very involved research papers and put together a huge presentation on propaganda in the presidential elections from 1976-2000 (all at the same time) in addition to a bunch of other work and oh yeah, I have a job. A job I like. And I want to keep. Did I mention that already? I believe I did. Sigh.
And as if juggling a full time professor's job and 9 hours of grad school isn't hard enough, I'm determined to keep my 4.0 average. So I have to do all of this perfectly. With the exception of first and second grade, I've never had a 4.0, or straight As or whatever. Don't get me wrong, I was a dedicated student. But you could see from my transcripts which classes I cared about and which ones I believed were useless and stupid. I'm trying to be a grown up now and not play such games. But I want my 4.0 intact. And over these next four weeks remaining in the semester, I just might drive myself insane trying to do it.
Dear everybody in my life, I apologize now for being crazy for the next four weeks. Thank you and I hope we're still friends by the time May 13th gets here.
Oh dear. May 13th. I just realized. That is Friday the 13th. Whew. This semester ends on a Friday the 13th. That's quite an omen. This could be interesting.
But I have to say. This semester is just about too much for my wee brain to handle. I've got to write two very involved research papers and put together a huge presentation on propaganda in the presidential elections from 1976-2000 (all at the same time) in addition to a bunch of other work and oh yeah, I have a job. A job I like. And I want to keep. Did I mention that already? I believe I did. Sigh.
And as if juggling a full time professor's job and 9 hours of grad school isn't hard enough, I'm determined to keep my 4.0 average. So I have to do all of this perfectly. With the exception of first and second grade, I've never had a 4.0, or straight As or whatever. Don't get me wrong, I was a dedicated student. But you could see from my transcripts which classes I cared about and which ones I believed were useless and stupid. I'm trying to be a grown up now and not play such games. But I want my 4.0 intact. And over these next four weeks remaining in the semester, I just might drive myself insane trying to do it.
Dear everybody in my life, I apologize now for being crazy for the next four weeks. Thank you and I hope we're still friends by the time May 13th gets here.
Oh dear. May 13th. I just realized. That is Friday the 13th. Whew. This semester ends on a Friday the 13th. That's quite an omen. This could be interesting.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAE
Because of all the rain we've had the past several weekends, I haven't been able to do any yard work. With my busy weekday schedule, if it doesn't get done on Saturday or Sunday, it has to wait for the following weekend. Problem was, the last three weekends were either rainy or I was out of town. Needless to say, there was a jungle where my yard once was. Birds and squirrels and bunny rabbits were frolicking in the foot-tall grass while the neighbors grumbled about THAT house on the block. It was truly embarrassing.
So hooray. Yesterday comes and it's bright and sunny. Not a cloud in the sky. I put on my not-so-cute jeans, a t-shirt, and lawn gloves, trotted out to the lawn building, pulled out the lawnmower and started to go.
The backyard was first. It had no grass. It was all those weeds with little purple flowers and the weird Dr. Seuss shaped leaves, kind of like little tiny topiaries. The chain link fence surrounding the yard still had piles of leaves from the fall. I know, I know... but please. It was the backyard for crying out loud. And honestly, the yard could use the compost. I tried to mow the leaves but many of them were still wet and sticking together. Yuck. Still, anything I did was an improvement.
Then it was off to the front yard. The grass was so high in places, the lawnmower almost died. I'm not kidding. I had to lift the mower up several times to keep it from choking on the tall grass. The clipping piles turned into rows of 6" mounds all over the place. Still, it's great to have such a bright, green yard freshly mowed. And I love the smell of fresh cut grass, once I get past the sneezing. I was so psyched, I decided to tackle the shaggy looking hedges.
I remember watching my mom using electric hedge trimmers when I was a child. It looked so easy. Swipe, swipe, back-and-forth, and the bushes are so clean and pretty with the perfect shape. Oh, Momma. I had no idea how much trouble it is. I thought the big clipper scissor things were a lot of work. Oh no. I got everything hooked up and decided to start with the smaller shrubs near the porch. Aeaeaeaeaeaeaeae! The vibrations were crazy! I managed to get the top trimmed and even - which took much longer than I thought it would - then the sides, then the front. Wow. I needed a little break.
Then it was time to tackle the big hedge under the front window. On and on it went. The sun moved from it's white-light early afternoon position to the deeper yellow-light late afternoon position. And still, I was no where near finished. My arms cramped. The fatigue hit. But I couldn't stop until it was all done, otherwise, the bushes would look really stupid! A little longer, a little longer. I finally got the top even - at least it was even enough. The front was a little lopsided so that had to be corrected. And corrected. And corrected. The sides were easier but I could barely hold the stupid trimmers by this time and it was beginning to show with odd little gaps and uneven spots. AAAAAA would it ever end? I kept it up until I could not hold those things any longer.
My arms are now rubber. It's a day later and they're still rubber. Anything that requires me raising my arms is now impossible for me. Somewhere, somehow, my arm bones melted. I'm now Gumby. Who knew that having perfectly shaped bushes would be so physically burdensome.
So now, I say to my neighbors, I promise to do better about keeping up the mowing. But please. The bushes are going to grow all over the place. Because I no longer have functioning arms. They've melted into useless appendages. I'm only able to type by propping my arms on the desk and letting my hands and fingers do all the work. It's my sacrifice for the neighborhood eyeballs and critical opinions. You may now fuss at my neighbor across the street who has no grass in their front yard because that's where they park their cars. NICE. It is, after all, small town Arkansas. Have I mentioned the old toilet in the yard two houses down?
So hooray. Yesterday comes and it's bright and sunny. Not a cloud in the sky. I put on my not-so-cute jeans, a t-shirt, and lawn gloves, trotted out to the lawn building, pulled out the lawnmower and started to go.
The backyard was first. It had no grass. It was all those weeds with little purple flowers and the weird Dr. Seuss shaped leaves, kind of like little tiny topiaries. The chain link fence surrounding the yard still had piles of leaves from the fall. I know, I know... but please. It was the backyard for crying out loud. And honestly, the yard could use the compost. I tried to mow the leaves but many of them were still wet and sticking together. Yuck. Still, anything I did was an improvement.
Then it was off to the front yard. The grass was so high in places, the lawnmower almost died. I'm not kidding. I had to lift the mower up several times to keep it from choking on the tall grass. The clipping piles turned into rows of 6" mounds all over the place. Still, it's great to have such a bright, green yard freshly mowed. And I love the smell of fresh cut grass, once I get past the sneezing. I was so psyched, I decided to tackle the shaggy looking hedges.
I remember watching my mom using electric hedge trimmers when I was a child. It looked so easy. Swipe, swipe, back-and-forth, and the bushes are so clean and pretty with the perfect shape. Oh, Momma. I had no idea how much trouble it is. I thought the big clipper scissor things were a lot of work. Oh no. I got everything hooked up and decided to start with the smaller shrubs near the porch. Aeaeaeaeaeaeaeae! The vibrations were crazy! I managed to get the top trimmed and even - which took much longer than I thought it would - then the sides, then the front. Wow. I needed a little break.
Then it was time to tackle the big hedge under the front window. On and on it went. The sun moved from it's white-light early afternoon position to the deeper yellow-light late afternoon position. And still, I was no where near finished. My arms cramped. The fatigue hit. But I couldn't stop until it was all done, otherwise, the bushes would look really stupid! A little longer, a little longer. I finally got the top even - at least it was even enough. The front was a little lopsided so that had to be corrected. And corrected. And corrected. The sides were easier but I could barely hold the stupid trimmers by this time and it was beginning to show with odd little gaps and uneven spots. AAAAAA would it ever end? I kept it up until I could not hold those things any longer.
My arms are now rubber. It's a day later and they're still rubber. Anything that requires me raising my arms is now impossible for me. Somewhere, somehow, my arm bones melted. I'm now Gumby. Who knew that having perfectly shaped bushes would be so physically burdensome.
So now, I say to my neighbors, I promise to do better about keeping up the mowing. But please. The bushes are going to grow all over the place. Because I no longer have functioning arms. They've melted into useless appendages. I'm only able to type by propping my arms on the desk and letting my hands and fingers do all the work. It's my sacrifice for the neighborhood eyeballs and critical opinions. You may now fuss at my neighbor across the street who has no grass in their front yard because that's where they park their cars. NICE. It is, after all, small town Arkansas. Have I mentioned the old toilet in the yard two houses down?
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