docoflove1974

Arizona is quite arid, yes...it is, after all, a desert. Texas, well, only the western third of the state is arid. The rest is incredibly humid as a result of the Gulf of Mexico. In fact, it's the start of Tornado Alley, as the cold fronts come in from the northwest. For 6 months of the year, most of that state is sticky, like humidity levels of 70%+, and when coupled with 90'-110'F temps for those 6 months, it's hellish. When I first moved down there, I came from a very hot place (Central Valley of California, although it's a dry heat), but it still took my body 3 days to figure out how in the the name of all that's holy to cool down.

I'd love to sit here and say I'm surprised about the Texan Christmas tree farmer...but I did live there for 6 years Now, I will say, you can grow the trees quite well in that state. Eastern Texas, particularly around Tyler, is known for its pine groves. As for the drought, um, well, the state has been in some form of drought for decades, and many think that it's the 'normal' for most of the state. But such climates don't usually mix well with rising populations. I wonder what Slick Rick (the guv) plans on doing to save the state?

Oof, looks like we all missed it...we deserve punishment of some kind hehehe Hope you had a most wonderful day, Kosmo!

Oh good, I'm glad I wasn't the only one who didn't see it. Then again, I was always the one that could never see the hidden picture in those dot prints that you have to unfocus your eyes. Of course, I looked at it last night after teaching, so my focus is never quite that sharp

I love me some Foo Fighters. Seriously...my one fantasy revolves around Dave Grohl...I won't provide other details, as it's not necessary. How much to I love me some Foos? Everlong is my general ringtone on my Blackberry. Yeah, I said it. Everlong...the most Nirvana-like song they have. And here comes the paradox...I hate Nirvana. Well, to be fair, it's not the entire band that makes me change the station on the radio...it's only the lead singer. Kurt Cobain has (had?) a voice that I absolutely can't stand...it literally hurts my ears. A whiny quality that just unsettles me in a negative way. And yet...when you listen to just about anything early that Dave Grohl wrote for the Foos, it's clear that Nirvana was still on his mind. The video, however, is not even remotely Nirvana-like, and one could even argue it was the start of Dave Grohl branching out into joke-dom. The band has become famous for it now, throwing in at least one video per album that is a spoof. In my quite humble opinion, the video for "Long Road To Ruin" is the best one of their work, although "Big Me" is nothing to sneeze at, either. The album that came out this year, Wasting Light, is no different...although the 'joke video' is on a song that I don't like. If you download the entire album from iTunes, you get the videos for both "White Limo" (the song I can't stand on the album) and a live video for "Walk" (the song that might be my favorite). For you metal fans, you'll love "White Limo;" very influenced by all that is metal. Being the complete antithesis of a fan of heavy metal...yeah, it hurts my ears, badly. "Rope" is a great song, but the lyrics are very dark...but wow that guitar gets me moving around the room. on the other hand, it perhaps the most upbeat song that the Foos have ever produce. About getting ready to start again, because it's time...and get ready, because I'm back for real. In fact...hmmmmmm...could "Walk" unseat "Everlong" as my general ringtone? I dunno....that's a huge upset...but I might have to try it out for a bit

Heh you should watch the video...look it up on YouTube. I'd link it, but when I saw the video I couldn't stop laughing. See, Adam Levine of Maroon 5 (that's the singer with the contorted vocal chords) isn't that good, but he's also not that good looking. So how his band got to where it is, who knows. And that song was written so that Christina Aguilera could participate...except that she needn't lower herself to that. Really.

OUTSTANDING NEWS! Congratulations to you and your lovely lady!

Amen!

Really, it traditionally is a harvest festival. For North Americans, Thanksgiving is the holiday we celebrate as a commemoration of the 'First Thanksgiving' that the Pilgrims celebrated in 1621. Nowadays, it's meant as a 'national day of thanks', a time to be thankful for what you have, and to celebrate with family and/or friends. It also sort of marks the beginning of the Holiday Season for Americans, since we celebrate it on the 4th Thursday of November; Canadians celebrate it in mid-October. It's actually a really cool holiday, perhaps even better than Christmas because there is much less pressure on gifts (because there are none), and you spend it with loved one...not always family, and friends are often part of the equation. By the way, the day after Thanksgiving is known as Black Friday...the day that Americans act like idiots and push others out of the way in the stores just to be the very first ones to buy some Christmas gift that may or may not be wanted. (As you can tell, I don't exactly participate in that tradition. Never did like mosh pits. )

Here in the States, we have a tradition. It's not the holidays until the Charlie Brown cartoons start. It starts with "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for Halloween, but one of my favorite one is "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving". Besides, it sets up a day of football (not footie, mind you...that's a different sport), and this year my Niners are playing in the Har-bowl...the head coaches of both the 49ers and the Baltimore Ravens are brothers Jim and John Harbaugh, respectively, and both teams are goooooooooooood. But, hey, that's getting ahead of ourselves. Charlie Brown needs to be tricked yet again by Lucy into 'kicking' the ball, only to fall flat on his back. Charlie Brown needs to get bummed out about the holidays in general, because of worrying about food and gifts and such. And then the whole gang needs to come on over and show Charlie Brown the meaning of Thanksgiving. And it's more than pumpkin pie. As an American born pre-1980, the Charlie Brown cartoons represent a part of childhood tradition...the programs that are always on during the last 3 months of the year, and always on network television. I remember when cable television came to be, and lordy lordy lordy, was it a new fangled thang. The old folks thought that it was just a fad, that there was no reason to pay for television programs, especially since the 3 networds (ABC, CBS, NBC) provided all that you would want. Charlie Brown and his pals were always on network television, just like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Miracle on 34th Street" (neither of which I ever liked). So, tomorrow, I'll be driving to my parents' house, about 75 miles away, for our normal Thanksgiving tradition: football, food, and feeling thankful for all we have. It could be a shite site worse Happy Thanksgiving to you all...even if you're not celebrating on that day. At least be thankful for Charles Schulz, the genius behind the gang.

It is a day for giving thanks...and I have plenty to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving!

You're right, it is unbelievable what some people carry around with them. Working at a community college, I see it often...a student (regardless of age) has a pretty huge burden to bear, and at times they just need to let it out. One of the most amazing students I've ever had was a woman about my age, who was a single mother of 2 adolescent boys. She told me the story of the last few years: abusive husband, running away from him with the boys to a women and children's shelter, an acrimonious divorce...and yet both of her boys were honor-roll students, as was she. She never came to class with anything less than a smile, regardless of how her day went or the pressures on her, because to her life was better than what it could have been. One day, at the end of the semester, she was really down. After class I pulled her aside and asked her if she was ok. The tears formed the second I spoke; she needed to vent, and in a big way. Her father had just passed away, a man who was very important in her life and who supported her through the years, and she couldn't return home to Mexico to go to his funeral. Sure, part of the reason was the cost; the other reason was that she was afraid that if she left to go home to be with her family, that her ex-husband would somehow try to take custody of the boys, and get it. She was so fearful of this that she didn't even dare go home. She had a guardian angel, it turns out; a woman at her church paid for the tickets for her and her sons to go down for the funeral. A happy ending. The post-script is that this student has since finished her Bachelor's degree in Psychology (she earned a full-ride scholarship to a private university locally), and is doing well. I'm supposed to meet up with her soon.

Oh he did show me a good time...until he had to come clean about everything. Meh, whatevs. I just found it funny that his reason for calling things off was so similar to what my students said that week. As for 'playing therapist', well, sadly this has been my burden to bear my entire life. I'm always the one that people unburden themselves to, and almost always without my prompting it. Evidently all I have to say is, "Are you okay?"--and then comes the river of emotion, upset, and uncertainty. I long ago let it go, although when someone chooses to not let me vent for 5 minutes, I tend to get a wee bit grumpy, and perhaps at times self-righteous. My last ex-boyfriend was (and still is, I assume) a psychologist, and he said that it's something about my face, in combination with how I live my life. So, such is life.

Well, Nana wasn't usually right about much...go figure.

Human behavior is so incredibly fascinating. And how we deal with pressure is a big fascination for me. I still am trying to understand my own behavior, let alone what others do...and how we all feed off of each others' energy and actions. In the last week, the 'busy season' of the semester has ended--not only did I have a lot of grading to do, but I had exams to create, final plans to set up for, and general bookkeeping to do. I have a tendency to just bear down and slog through everything, finishing on time, and not losing any sleep. Well, that's not exactly true; when I'm stressed, I tend to fall asleep just as quickly as ever, and I think I'm sleeping well, but I don't wake up refreshed in any way. In fact, I start off the day very sluggish, and get through on adrenaline. The other element that crops up when I'm stressed is an absolute craving for carbs--pasta, rice and potatoes especially, but even sugary yummy stuff. This time, the big weakness was Nutella...though at least I had the sense to spread it on whole-grain bread. Of course, considering the amount of work I'm doing and the effort to just get awake in the morning, that's probably the explanation for the carb-craving. Last week also saw the 'ending' of a 'relationship'--the quotes being employed because the thing lasted a month, and we hardly saw each other, perhaps once or twice a week. Evidently I'm a hard ass...or so I was told. Well, I am, especially when I think someone needs to toughen up. And 'hard-ass' doesn't quite explain it...it's more of a mentality of: 'I have enough stuff going on, and you're whining about trivial crap. Let it go, deal with it...I'll help you find an answer, but, dude, seriously, grow up.' And contrary to opinion, I am in fact very nurturing, but I just can't stand weak men. They don't do much for me. What qualifies someone as being 'weak'? Whining, for a start, especially since the person in question has a very good life, has always had a very good life, and evidently has never had a moment where his checking account was below $200. And everyone has down moments, periods of frustration, and times where a good cry is necessary--male or female. But acting upon the perceived need to curl up in a ball and cry for hours on end because work is hard and you feel like you bit off more than you could chew because you procrastinated for 2 months on major projects before you started a huge new job, well, that doesn't do much for me. It's unattractive, regardless of the gender of the person. Get your tears out, feel relieved, and then get to solving the problems. And because I was perceiving this series of emotions emanating from the gentleman in question, I could feel myself gritting up around him. He wanted a shoulder to sob on...and I felt the need to wear my spiked shoulder pads. Completely subconscious in the reaction, but honest nonetheless. So when I was told that he was looking for someone exactly like me, but with the added trait of allowing him to cry all he wants, well, there wasn't much I could do. I agreed that we weren't a good match, and that was that. The funniest part of that whole exchange was that, perhaps 2 days later, I had two students thank me for letting them vent their frustrations (with tears) and helping them through their very real problems (family issues, in their cases). And when I facetiously told them, bah, I'm not nice at all, I'm a hard-ass...they just busted out laughing. "Only at first, profesora, to keep us in line...and then you show your soft side." See? The students get it.

Wow...no thanks of the Vindaloo...sounds like it ruined one of my favorite veggies. I find that if someone says they don't like Brussel Sprouts, the sure-fire way to cook them to convince them otherwise is to roast them. Olive oil, salt, pepper...400'F oven for 20 minutes or so, and they're crunch-crisp on the outside, and creamy on the inside. Hmmmmm...one more thing to add to the shopping list....

You know, on National Geographic Channel last night was a documentary on the finding of evidence on King Arthur, with the two theories being Glastonbury and Shropshire. Surely, then, real, genuine Englishmen can be found there? Or, perhaps as my grandmother used to say, the only place that a real Englishman can be found is a pub

None yet...hopefully I'll hear something today. Naturally, I had a weird dream last night: that they closed the position, citing budgetary reasons (the State of California just announced that certain economic triggers were set, so there will be more cuts, including to education)...and then the college in question opens up a new position, Italian-centric but the ability to teach Spanish. Yeeps!

Grazie, Cinzia! Tis true, I could use an Italian boyfriend Actually, I hope to start having time to go to Italian Meet-Ups in San Francisco soon. That way, I could not only practice speaking, but get tapped into the local culture again. If I end up teaching, I'll be able to find out about cultural events. Plus, gee, I might have to spend time in North Beach, San Francisco's historical Italian district...a must if anyone comes here!

Well, the interview has passed. And my nerves are infinitely calmer for it, too. I have spent the last week or so cramming as much Italian grammar as I can...which sounds like a lot of studying. But considering this is mid-semester, and that normally implies a mountain of work, I didn't get to study quite as much as I would have liked. Not to mention that I had no time to go to any conversation groups, so my confidence in my speaking abilities was not exactly bolstered. I knew that in the interview I would have to do 2 different teaching demonstrations--one in Spanish, one in Italian. The Spanish one would be no sweat--I mean, I've been teaching Spanish for 12 years, and this grammar point was one that I did this semester, so my PowerPoint presentation was up to date. But the Italian one? Yeesh...I've never taught Italian, and my confidence was waning. So instead of conversing with fellow Italian-speakers and getting better, I had to practice my grammar presentation and hope to All That Holy that I wouldn't be asked to do too much more. Regardless, I had practice various grammar elements, spoke Italian when I could (although my cat pretty much ignored me when I spoke to her), and hoped for the best. Oh, and freak out the entire time. But that's normal. But, typical for me, once I woke up this morning, the jitters were gone. Sure, I was nervous, but not overly preoccupied with whether I'd do ok. The last few days I've been listening to my Italian rock/pop songs (mostly Laura Pausini, Eros Ramazzotti and Tiziano Ferro), and I played more as I drove the 45-minute drive from my apartment to the interview. Bottom line, I did fine. On the regular interview questions, I slayed...they seemed genuinely impressed with my committee work and curriculum work, and my other questions seemed to hit the spots that they were looking for. My Spanish demonstration was great, too...but I knew that I'd do well there, too. The Italian demonstration...it went fine. Not great, not excellent, just 'fine'. I made it Now, I just have to wait about a week to see if I'll be asked for a second interview, or if I get a 'thanks for participating' email. Regardless, the hardest, most challenging part is over and done with.

Exactly, GoC; in fact, they usually have a locking mechanism on the door, so that you can't open the oven door while mid-cycle. Everything gets burned off, and afterwards I just wipe down the walls with a wet cloth or sponge. Good as new! You can even leave the oven racks in there while on self-cleaning--honestly, I don't know which I hate more, cleaning the oven walls or the oven racks.

I absolutely hate cleaning the oven...the stove-top I'll do gladly, but the oven is the worst. The fumes from the oven cleaner make me ill; Easy Off doesn't always live up to its title. And, until this place, I've never lived in a place with a true 'self-cleaning' cycle, so the scrubbing was ceaseless. Now? Oh wow...I just need a good day to open the windows, and to be home for 3-4 hours. Turn that sucker on, ventilate the apartment, and smile in knowing that I no longer have to scrub the blasted thing again! (This apartment is seriously playing with my head...wherever I live next, it won't be like this...I'll be back to scrubbing the oven again, I just know it!)

Grazie, Cinzia. Let's see how the interview goes!

Why? I didn't think you lived so close to the North Pole that Santa's overflow of elves were shacking up at your place

Yep, it's happened...Filettino, about 70 miles east of Rome. And while I don't know if any others will do it, it's not a pretty trend for Silly Silvio. Italian politics was once described to me as being like a whirling dervish. Right now, the dervish looks a bit catty-wampus.