the campus in fall

I love the beginning of the academic school year. There's more energy now on campus than in the winter or spring, and students seem more eager to talk and read (at least for a few weeks). The fall is also a fantastic time to people-watch, since many of the first-year undergraduates arrive with new, trendy and occasionally bizarre outfits. While most of them are still wearing tank tops and jeans, there are suddenly many students wearing long, belted tunics and leggings this quarter. There also seems to be a trend amongst the guys to wear brightly-colored, giant high-tops. 80's fashion does seem to be getting a second chance, at least selectively. (If next year we're all wearing stirrup pants and hypercolor t-shirts tied to the side, watch out!)

I realize this is cliche, but in some very real ways the campus also feels less lonely after a quiet summer session. I've had the chance to catch up with several of my graduate school friends (two of whom are pregnant now!) and have run into some of my favorite undergraduate students on campus. Three of them even stopped me to say that they missed my class and wished I could be teaching some of their new ones, which meant more to me than I think they realize. The fall students remind me why I want to be a teacher in a way that I will probably forget about again by, say, the end of the spring quarter.

notes from the coffeeshop

There is an adorable, three-year-old (or so) boy who, a few minutes ago, found out from his dad that he could get a scoop of chocolate ice cream. He then promptly started dancing around the shop and announcing to each table of strangers, "I've got chocolate ice cream--I've got chocolate ice cream!"

It is really hot outside (90 degrees, if you believe my car's thermometer), but deliciously cool in here.

My goal is to read at least two plays here. Current stats: three acts down, seven to go.

Short post (like, Alexander Pope short)

The summer class is officially over, and I'm already looking forward to TA-ing for my advisor this fall. She's offered me the chance to give two of my own lectures this quarter on either Robinson Crusoe or Gulliver's Travels. I am kind of excited by the prospect of writing and lecturing for an 18th-cent. novel class for the first time, even though I know the novelty will probably wear away soon.

So, which novel should I pick? (I'm leaning toward Swift, I think.)

Pilates of the Caribbean

From yesterday's Houston Chronicle:




















I thought of this joke a while ago, too; I'm glad somebody illustrated it!

I'll just be over here reading.

My summer quarter has finally finished (well, except for some grading), and people keep asking me how long my break is until the next quarter. It's hard to answer that question because I feel like I don't have a "break," exactly, but steady reading and note-taking work that will continue up until I take my exams. This is not to say I won't have time for fun, but only that I won't have that fun neatly blocked off in a couple of weeks without work. I'm actually okay with this, because the only reason I have no breaks between classes is because I have no classes, and won't have to deal with the quick stress-out-then-crash cycle of the quarter. (Well, at least not until the exams themselves . . .) Instead, I get the chance to train for something larger and much more geared to what I want to eventually research and teach.

Moreover, as Caitlin and others have rightly pointed out, my job is to read right now. I have to do something I love and chose as a vocation. Complaining about that would require the squeaky accompaniment of a really, really tiny violin.













Tinier!