Day 5 - Templo del Sol beckons!

A busy day. Not yet over. And don't want to leave any reader out of the entry.

Up late again because of new crazy neighbors who move shit in at 2 a.m. and yell at each other and drag things and think they're the only people on the planet. They're also apparently squatters, not officially living there. Great.

Up early to go teach last day of GRE prep course. A nice group of kids. Back to graduate division to tie up loose ends. A great place to work.

Lunch with Maria at The Barn, a nice supervisor. Thanks for the present, Maria!

Rushing home to finish some packing up, then Lalo arrived and we started moving shit. "When was the last time we did this?" he asked. "It doesn't seem that long." Yeah, yeah, move that over there! We are a smooth machinery of moving - we are as efficient and low-stress as Jenny and I painting together. It's a beautiful thing.

Then Michele and Robert arrived and helped with the dresser. Four loads to storage. Woo hoo.


Jenny called: "Day five??" Sure, I haven't left yet, and full Templo-ization is still the goal.

Yolanda laughed to see me again. Because who wouldn't.


Lalo had never been to Ikea, which is shocking and alarming to Jenny and me, so I asked if they wanted to go - it sounded to be more fun than packing alone.

Lalo: "Of course!"
Jenny: "Duh!"
So off we went. Lalo had a particularly productive time, and he's quick to becoming an Ikea pro. The evening rounded off nicely with a drive-by (viewing, not stalking).

So here I am, realizing I need to pack like a mad woman to be ready when Pam and Michele get here in about 9 1/2 hours to help me move. But it's all good. I'll upload photos to blog instead.

*****
Update: Oh, almost forgot.

A favorite moment: Talking about my cool downstairs neighbors (the father was checking in with me about my leaving), I said to Lalo, "Yeah, though I sometimes forget, I really am a white chick, and people don't always know more than that." "That's unfortunate." And of course he meant to the second part, but I think it's funnier to make that allude to the first part. "Yes, unfortunate you were born in the privileged majority of this nation."

Emma is the 18-month-old of the icky downstairs neighbors. But she is a ball of fire. Her mother says, "Emma! Emma! Emma! This way!" and Emma runs the other way just as far as the street, in order to freak her mother out but not to endanger her life. And as her mother gets more and more frustrated, I see an evil little smile on Emma's face. She found Lalo and me completely fascinating and refused to leave us. She even bolted out the door when nobody was looking to watch me go up and down the stairs. And I asked her, "Oh, are you running away?" And I thought, "I would. Run now, little girl. Run and run and run." Who wouldn't want to leave their creepy icky family to be with me and Lalo? We're cool and nice to each other. And since he's both cooler and nicer than me, I'd send her home with him.

Goal: Day Three

The goal? To eat at Joe Aguilar's Templo del Sol every day until I leave. We're on day three, and I no longer need to order - Yolanda always knows exactly what I want and when. I want Jenny to be so thoroughly Templized that she hasn't the desire to eat there for months after I leave (I'm about her only friend who will eat there - the others are tired of it).

Honestly, it's starting to feel like marathon training. More beans and rice? Sigh, ok. Sure. Chips. Yeah. Salsa, yawn. But come a month at this time, I will give anything I own for beans and rice, so I need to enjoy it while I can.

smoking

I want a cigarette. Bad. I can picture myself walking to the corner store and getting a pack of Marlboro Lights - hardpack preferred - and that first inhalation with headrush.

It's been years. I don't remember the last time I even had a drag off somebody else's. Fairbanks, with the boyfriend too old and too bad for me? Seven years ago? Earlier? I remember living with Susan so many years ago, keeping a pack in a drawer for the just-in-case moments. I do not remember when I threw the last pack away.

Truth is, I've never been a smoker. I smoke like I eat ice cream - sometimes, with a craving. Never habitually.

I bought ice cream tonight. Ben and Jerry's pint. The cashier was far too chatty. If I wanted to conversate, I would have called a friend, not stood in a too-long line at Stater Bros. Sabine loves this southern California friendliness, but I find it too often so fake as to nauseate me. A real connection, that I cherish - and it can happen instantly. But a feigned warmth I cannot stand.

I talked to Susan tonight. Mail arrives for me there. Next week at this time I'll be there.

It is hot and muggy here. It is cooler in Ghana right now - up only to the low 80's - but raining. Looks like lots and lots of rain. I'm glad I noticed - I wasn't prepared.

TV values

Yesterday I had on PBS and then the Korean station while I was packing boxes. I learned more than I ever expected to about Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra - and it was actually really interesting. About Sinatra, especially, his values were interesting and respectable. I'd always heard the murmurings of mafia connections but didn't give them much credence - Italian-American stereotypes are often not true. But why don't people talk about what Sinatra did for racial relations - such as the stand he took for Sammy Davis, Jr. and others, as well as the non-famous - or about his loyalty? That loyalty in particular is very appealing. I think I really learned that from my students, especially the last year of teaching at Sierra. I can't imagine using people for my own gains, or forgetting them when it's inconvenient, or any of that. I'm not always pleasant to those who do not please me, and I'm not always sunshiny-happy about even those I'm close to, but I understand better now that loyalty is a fundamental value I hold dear. But I have to make a distinction - I've had certain supervisors (ah-hem) upset that I wasn't more loyal to them - but if I have no respect and no trust developed, just their position does not elicit my loyalty. Friendship does. Which is why I feel betrayed by disloyal friends and rarely forgive.

Then came on my favorite - "The Immortal Yi Soon-Shin" (and I'm not the only one to think it's brilliant) but I had to turn it off because I was so disturbed. Yi-Soon Shin - saving Korea from Japanese invasion - sent a general with reinforcements for an on-land battle, but when they got there the Japanese were arriving from the other direction and the people they were there to reinforce didn't let them in the gates. To watch their expression when realizing they had been betrayed and would be slaughtered without any hope - it was heart-wrenching. OK, maybe I'm a sucker to be so upset by it (and still haunted) - but it's historically accurate ... and such treachery happens regularly in our world.

OK, so maybe they're not the TV values I'd get from watching "The Surreal Life" or "Charmed." And they provoke too much thought. I better get cable.

feeling the fever

Finally. Excitement about leaving. Now that my books are in boxes, it seems real and I'm ready to go.

Was just looking for study/volunteer opportunities in Nicaragua and found Casa Xalteva, which looks very good. I've heard Granada is lovely, and I've wanted to go to Nicaragua since I was 15 and heard a Witness for Peace witness about the US-supported war there and then wrote a paper on it. I've thought so much, dreamed so much, about Nicaragua that sometimes I think I was there. But no - it was Guatemala instead. Of the beautiful Lake Atitlan and interesting, kind people - and bulletholes in the presidential palace and tour guides who brag of ripping down shanty-towns. I was only 18, asking, "But where do the people go who live there?" How could he have not had an answer? And did I know then that I was a bleeding-heart liberal?

Finally. I feel ready. Sadness and inertia abates, as I knew it would in time, and everything gets packed up in a frenzy of organizational madness. Good friends help me move things Friday and Saturday (and I have to just throw out here - I can never imagine NOT volunteering to help a friend move - I know that I have used up more than my favors in the moving department, but WTF that I have to ask people? What on earth would I ever do in this life without Lalo and Michele? And Sabine and Jenny help in their ways - though they're not as capable as the heavy lifting - but what of others who I think of as friends? What is this culture here where one does not offer to help friends when needed? In the culture I come from, we help each other build houses and the other things are assumed - why are people like this here? I understand people are busy and I couldn't coordinate times with them, and I don't need that many people really - but who are these people, really, who do not offer to help a friend in need? A few moves ago a person I thought was a really good friend refused to help me move - before I had asked him. In fact, I wasn't going to ask him - I wait for people to volunteer usually. He heard me say I was moving and jumped to a no - and I don't think I could ever forgive him for that, because that shows such a lack of loyalty and friendship that I could never trust somebody like that. Well, I guess I know who my real friends are now).

from The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende

"This is to assuage our conscience, darling," she would explain to Blanca. "But it doesn't help the poor. They don't need charity; they need justice." (p. 117).

Just

Just paid off in full: student loan. Yay! I'm officially debt-free ... for the moment.

Just arrived: "cool pants" (as Avery, the 6-year-old fashion guru calls them). The FedEx couriers are so efficient - and delivering at 8:30 a.m. on Saturday morning? Wow. Perfect for me!

Just bought last evening: date book to record where I am when and other short descriptions of happenings (only $2.99! Love these prices) and a small notebook as a journal.

Now ordering: a mosquito net. I already own the Sleep Screen, but since I'll be sleeping on cots it's not very convenient - plus, it's not permethrin-treated. Sleep Screen works well on the ground in cooler climes - it's great for backpacking because it's so light (though Selma-dog doesn't like it because there's not room for her, and she likes insect protection, too), but it will be inconvenient to have to be in a sleeping bag in these warm places I'm going to.

Still need: rugged long-sleeved shirt that will protect against insects while not being too warm.

Oy, this is complicated. It will be very warm in Ghana and India when I'm there, but Jordan in winter gets very chilly. Well, I can buy sweaters and such there I'm sure. And, I'm trying to figure out the best way to mail books to myself somewhere along the way ...

Gail found my email to her funny enough to blog on her blog:
Me: "So, I have this looooong list of things to do, but guess what I'm doing first?

"Going to the Laundromat to wash my new sleeping bag (needs one of those
large not agitating washers) BECAUSE it's next to Tapioca Express!! And it's
all about the boba and fishballs!:-)"

Gail: "This is just one of the many reasons why I say she's Asian to the core! ^_^"

Ah, getting in touch with my inner-Asian. Actually I'm over their spicy fish balls now - my stomach does not like fried food. Sabine and I went to dinner last night and almost everything made me sick. Ever since the last time I went to Mexico City (two years ago) my digestive system hasn't worked quite properly - I went to the doctor but she couldn't find anything despite her intense battery of tests. But, it doesn't bother me too much because it's usually unhealthy foods - fried, really rich, etc. - that make me sick. Salads too sometimes, but most other healthy things are fine.

We also went to the new Borders in Riverside and she found a plethora of interesting magazines, and I found pretty pencil bags to carry stuff in, and finally bought the Bradt guide to Ghana (thanks to Sheila's gift certificate!). It was kind of fun there at the Riverside Plaza at night - there were tons of people and Asian drumming (what a work-out!) - and the palm trees not only have white Christmas-tree type lights, but also misters! Only in southern California! But the misters were needed because it was HOT even though it was after 9 p.m. Today already when I woke up it was already miserable - hot and humid. Rain is in the forecast. Don't know if I believe it, but feels like it needs to happen.

kindness of others

It began with Maria, whose husband works for FedEx, saying that her farewell present to me is that when I have an intense craving, she'll overnight ship me whatever I need - tortillas, chocolate chips, etc. Fantastic!

A student told me how much she appreciates all I've taught her - which is always nice to hear.

Pam had told me about boxes of pocket dictionaries where she used to work, so I swung by there today and her former supervisor gave me all I wanted. He was very kind and supportive.

Then I went to find a storage space. I'd looked at several but hadn't felt quite right about it. This one though, was cheaper AND I felt better about it. AND the manager lived in Oregon as I did, has children in Alaska near where I lived, and used to be a teacher! She insisted that she give me boxes for books for free, tape, etc., and gave me great deals on everything and was very kind.

What a great day! On smoggy, very hot days like today, I wouldn't expect the extent of the kindness I experience.

The older I get, the more positive I feel about human nature. Sure, people have always been good to me, but it seems like with each passing year I see more examples of the kindness of others.

My life now

Yup. Cardboard. And numerous phone calls and details and all sorts of frantic decision-making. Which insurance to buy? What do I do about getting my refrigerator picked up when they can't do it until four days after my apartment lease ends - and the apartment manager is nowhere to be found to discuss it? And where to store my stuff? And when to move it all? And who to beg to help? And how to do all the applications when they aren't available until after I leave the country? And how to ship off all the books to Ghana? And could I ship some to myself somewhere along the way so I don't run out of reading material? And so on and on and on and on.

I dreamt last night that I got to Ghana and had forgotten to take my anti-malarial medication and also forgot to bring mosquito nets. I'm already stressed and I'm not even there yet! Reminded me of more things to order ...

I've now cancelled electricity, phone, internet; changed my address; arranged for the rented refrigerator to be picked up. I guess I really am leaving. This heat is not helping me with all the chores I need to do and errands to run. Oh well - lots of phone details taken care of. More things crossed off the list. The move moves forward.

homework

I did not do my homework. No, I wasn't too busy or it wasn't too hard - I just refused to do it. I sat there feeling bitter, so I said screw it.

It's a slippery slope, I fear. Since I currently have a 99% in the class, I can get about an 81% on everything else from now on and still get an A. And it's not hard to get B's in there - I see all sorts of people who have no clue getting B's.

I fear my students of Sierra rubbed off on me. So this is what it's like, to not do homework. Hm. Wonder if I look different somehow.

The fun is gone. I have other things to do in the evenings. Sigh. Seven more days. At least the room is well air-conditioned - it's freakin hot out there. Blah. So I'm still going to class - though I fear skipping might be my next step.
********
update 7/21: So, I got my test back last night. How does it reflect in my grade when I stop participating? I got 119%. Which frustrates me because when I really understand it, I do ok, and I do better when I don't and just regurgitate without "getting" it? Then I should do great on the practice test tonight, not knowing jack. And it also frustrates me because 21 points of that were identifying who said what quotes. Of course I had a good chance at identifying Booker T. Washington, Helen Keller, and Benjamin Franklin - I'm well-read and over-educated. Doesn't help me for crap with math. Whatever. Five more days of class. It's surely not the first time that education has interfered with my learning.

Cardboard aversion

After class tonight, I went over to Michele's to pick up leftover food. Anybody need six pounds of baby carrots? Yes, I definitely bought TOO MUCH FOOD for MEGA-p, but I'm still quite pleased that nearly all jello shots disappeared.

She gave me boxes. Because she always has just what I need.

This means of course that I have to pack. Because I'm leaving. In less than two weeks.

I know when I'm there, I'll be happy to be there. But now, I'm here, and inertia is playing a significant role in my life now. That and a really messed-up sleep schedule. And lots of stuff to do - like the stack of 60 essays on my table which have been there for a month begging to be scored and commented on. Almost every day my obnoxious student asks for it back, and I say, "Not today." But Wednesday, I must. I'm too nice - I agreed to meet with each of the 29 students individually about their essays, and that's way too much time. Blah. Well, at least they're an appreciative group. I'm getting too comfortable with them, I fear - trying not to be inappropriate, but I was provoked into a short anti-Ben Affleck diatribe. I hate him worse than cardboard, worse than packing. Not him of course - he's probably a really nice guy and he would have come to MEGA-p if I'd invited him. No, I hate the obsession with him, with them all. Good grief - let them act and sing and live and stop bombarding me with stupid gossip for which I simply DO NOT CARE!! It's not as though I have any channels on TV besides PBS and some Korean channel, and I don't listen to radio stations in English except NPR. But just standing in line at the grocery store gives me MORE than my share of celebrity "news" - and I don't know how to make it stop! OK, I do care - just a little - that Angelina adopted another baby. I think she's da bomb and I love that she does these things. She most DEFINITELY would have come to MEGA-p if I'd invited her, though she might not have since I wasn't encouraging kids.

Favorite MEGA-p quotes

I'm sure I've forgotten great snippets of conversation, but here are ones that come to mind:

Asking Jenny to hurry up with the music, the group dubbed my expectations and speed of life as "Mach-[ME]."

Jenny to Pam: "Stop saying 'boyness.' It's a penis."

My illustrious advisor (overheard and reported to me): "I've not ever eaten a martini before."

********
More MEGA-p quotes, from Jenny:

All of us shouting "3-2-1!" margarita recipe at Pam.

Michele saying "Apparently not" after you sang "I don't give a damn 'bout my
bad reputation!"

Michele singing "I'm sspessial" along with the Pretenders!

Lalo saying "I'm having more fun than I thought I would. I'm glad I came." [Of course implicit was "I thought I would be bored and I'm only here because you're one of my favorite people and I cannot stand to hurt your feelings, so I'm glad this is more pleasant than having a root canal."]

MEGA-p: The next day

So, I went over to Michele's this morning to help with clean-up - which pretty much consisted of me sitting, watching Michele hose stuff off while Pam cooked us "breakfast" at 1 pm. Pam cooked up a bunch (even going to neighbors for eggs because Michele had none) and said, "We need more people to feed."

Just then, the doorbell rang and it was Al and Jeffrie; Jeffrie had forgotten her sunglasses the night before. So, we got to feed them, and the party continued!

MEGA-p was a hit!

I had SUCH a great time at MEGA-p! Thanks to all the friends who came and celebrated with me! And special thanks to Michele for opening up her home/pool/spa and Pam for cooking up a storm!

Pics here:
http://share.shutterfly.com/action/share/welcome?i=EeAN2Tly3aMXLg4&x=1&sm=1&sl=0

impending MEGA-p!

Woo-hoo! Most Excellent Going Away party tomorrow! I'm chopping up a storm - 30 cups of coleslaw to be served tomorrow. People will get their vitamins! After I take a load of refrigeratables to Michele's house, I'll make all those yummy jello shots. I have orange-amaretto, cherry-vanilla vodka, peach-rum, lime-gin, grape-vodka, and berry-tequila. Yum! Of course, I handle these details rather than do all the millions of other things I should be doing - such as packing, applications, calculus homework, reading, etc. Because jello shots and vegetable trays are more interesting than law school. Who knew.

I am not a mature person. I stopped speaking to my calculus instructor when he ticked me off this week. He too often does not answer questions I/we have about chapter review. The last time, when he tried to justify it after I sighed very loudly and obviously, I just stopped speaking to him. No more questions. As I told my neighbor, "Fine. He doesn't want to answer my questions? Fine. I'm done asking them." He noticed the way I said to my neighbors, "Go ask him about this one." And I was going to go for the next 2-3 weeks not speaking to him - I was fine with that.

And then he marked questions wrong on my test that I had done correctly in the work - I had written them on the wrong blanks. Eight points! It dropped me to an 89% on the test! The injustice! Sure, I was a moron, but so much? I had sketched the curve and made a chart - I clearly knew which part was concave up and which part concave down. So, I said, "Could I talk to you about partial cr-" "No," he cut me off. "I know which one you mean, and no." "But I did the work right here. It shows that I know, I just didn't clearly read the questions." "But it's open to interpretation, right? Right? It's not obvious you know if you don't write it in the blank, right?"

I'm not going to argue with him. Not with anybody about that kind of thing. Serves me right for being in a hurry to finish and not reading carefully. Whatever. Which is what I said. "Fine. Whatever." Mostly I'm angry at myself and decide to let it go and be more careful next time.

About two minutes later. "My dear." I ignore him. Why does he always call me that? "My dear." Still ignoring. I'm stubborn. "[ME]." "What?" "I gave you credit for those in the book. I wanted to see how you would justify." "So this is fun for you?" "I wanted to see what you'd say."

What I'd say? Hm - silent treatment works? Good to know. I've never had the patience to follow through on it before.

And I know it's stupid and I'm immature - but I was done talking because we don't see eye-to-eye. I'm in the class to learn the material really well. I understand that we have to skip things that I think are important - that's his prerogative. But I want to master things so well that tests and all that are easy and inconsequential really. Of late I've realized that it's really a test culture, and I would actually do better in there if I just paid attention to what he says is important and could regurgitate. That's what he wants; it's not what I want. So, I'm done with my inquiring mind and curiosity. Oh, I talked yesterday - he wants to see what I'll say, fine. And I even emailed him last night to refute something he'd said in class that I knew was wrong. He likes that, he says. Whatever.

These are the same damn educational issues I had in elementary school. I'm not like the other kids, as one of my classmates said the other day. I actually want to learn things - I'm different. Which is true, and makes me a pain in the ass. Oh well. There are worse things to be.

And my party tomorrow is going to rock, and none of any of this matters a whit in the grand scheme. I just know, I'm immature. And I don't want to change. Because if mature is cool and reserved and polite - I don't want to be those things. Sure, manners are good, but honesty is better.

CSUSB and Pasadena

So, yesterday I went up to visit Lalo at Cal State San Bernardino. And I really liked it. In Riverside, especially where I live near UCR, things are all so congested and tight. They keep building without enough parking, and there is all this freeway construction which makes people have to congest the detours - it's annoying and dangerous - people cutting off others and doing stupid shit. But up there, there's all this open space. It feels less cluttered and all that. I liked the house where he lives a lot - his roommate Danya who met me at the door is totally cool, and everybody else seemed great. I would live there if it were possible (if one of the roommates moves out at a good time for me).

So then I drove back to Riverside and met up with "the girls." We went to Pasadena and met up with a couple more - had dinner at Twin Palms, which was very yummy. Then we went to a few bars for drinks and such. Sabine and Jenny and I were less into loud music and dancing than the others, and our compromise ended with me getting home about 2:30 a.m. It was fun and I like Pasadena and everybody I got hang out with and met ... I just didn't realize that dinner would be such a time commitment, so I wasn't ready for that. And I'm old now - all that isn't nearly as much fun for me as it used to be. Surprising to me that Jenny and Sabine felt the same way about the time - they're always such night owls. Anyway, woke up this morning about 11 am - I haven't slept in that late since high school. My brain is foggy and most of my day is gone, which stresses me out but I'm trying to be cool. I'm continuing to caffeinate in the hopes that at some point I'll feel better. And no, I didn't drink much - just a glass of champagne, a glass of wine, and a Mojito (without enough mint) over the course of about six hours. So, I think it's not a hangover - more of a sleepover.

Cheryl, who organized the night out, is moving to Oregon - not far from my friends there. So I'll get to visit her and Ivan whenever I'm up there, which will be much fun. And I can bring Selma and Otter to visit them and let them get their dog fix (their malamute Ursula must stay behind due to their housing situation).

I see that I'm blogging like Gail does - reporting on the happenings. I never used to blog like that, but maybe it's good practice for when I start to travel.

Oh, and about the calculus - things are good again. He got over the screaming and anger at us and got more reasonable again, and people seem to be making more effort. So, it's all good.

Ovation

Ovation makes me think of Ovaltine. Wonder if they still make that.

Anyway, walked into calculus tonight. Usually I'm quite a bit early to talk HW problems with classmates beforehand, but I was burnt from yesterday's test and quite cranky.

Lolita says, "I'm using your test." For ... toilet paper? "You got the high score, I'm copying how you do things because I like it better than when he shows." Um, yeah, but I'm not the one grading. Sam shouts from the back, "Good job! High score!" And soon they're clapping and cheering and the whole room starts.

Which is really pathetic, because this ovation-inspiring high score was an 81%.

I talked to Lalo tonight because he's giving me a tour of Cal State San Bernardino soon, and he asked how I was. Verbal shrug. "What's wrong?" Oh, sucky calc test, did badly. "What's that, like a B?" OK, he knows me too well. Or my obsessive overachieving is plain for all to see.

But what bugged is that I knew the information. He threw some hard problems at us - like 4th derivatives that were in the hundreds of thousands and we weren't allowed to use calculators on that section! (He'd made a mistake in the typing up.) It took me a bloody 30 minutes for that stupid effing problem, which freaked me out, and then I made STUPID errors like "8 + 1 = 8" and "36 + 24 = 70." And he took off full credit for those stupid things even though I did the calculus right. Which is his prerogative, and he actually gave me a couple points extra, but it bugs. If I didn't know the material, I would be ticked at myself. But I knew it, and I do blame the test and the surprises he promised he wouldn't do, his mistake problem, etc.

So he screamed at the class (his word). And I feel for him - he was really upset about how many people missed the problems about velocity and acceleration - easy problems we spent time on. Mean score was like a 41%. But the other stuff messed it all up. And I know - an A is excellent, and a B is good, and I would say my mastery of the material is sound and good but I don't know about excellent. But I want excellent and I'm not happy with less. And it annoyed me because he didn't allow time for a couple days to go over homework problems - so we couldn't discuss things that we were tested on. The book sucks, so if I'm not instructed in something I might not be able to figure it out.

Midterm tomorrow and hopefully it goes better. I can do most all the practice test problems pretty easily, but that was the case with the last test too, so that's no promise. Ugh.

I can see he felt bad about it all while also being upset - when I walked in the room I ranted. He was out of the room, but even when I could sense him behind me I ranted a bit more - especially about the HW issue. Apparently he'd already screamed at several people about how they don't do their homework and that's why they were unsuccessful and he was out cooling off. And when I left I made a snide remark about, "Don't you dare say I didn't do my homework." "I didn't." Fine. So we're clear. I even got the hard problems that we hadn't been taught, but not all of them.

And I know he felt bad because he's showing up an hour early tomorrow to help people who need it - he's never done that. He's always early, but less than eager to work through things (he's prepping, we'll do it later, etc.).

Teaching is an imperfect art. Of course I'm ticked because I got a low score, but I see how hard I work and how I get it and enjoy it, and I see how a few others are about the same - and none of us did well? Him shouting about "calculus is hard! If you don't like it just leave right now!" doesn't wash here. We know that, and we're working to that. Some of us. Others maybe not so much. Maybe he's overcompensating because of bonus questions leading to high scores on the last test - I did have over 105% before this test. But that's about where I think I should be.

And it matters now more than just fun because I'm thinking of economics study ... UCR's economics undergrad secretary is driving me up an effing wall. She refuses to talk to me because she doesn't understand what to do about postbaccalaureate study. So, I went to appointments and spent a day walking around campus to different offices of people who couldn't help me - and now I've done all that and she STILL doesn't want to talk to me. Says she won't until I've been admitted. So I (not very patiently) pointed out that I won't be admitted because I won't apply unless I talk to her and she tells me what I need to know. She called my situation "a big problem" because I'm a PhD student? That's all stupid and she's working herself up about nothing. So, I sent her back an email dropping names of her bosses and where all I went and the official processes.

But I'm fried on it. So I'm looking at other schools - such as Cal State San Bernardino. It's a lot cheaper (as is living there) and seems to have all that I want and at the frequency I want to finish and get out in a year. Plus, they seem to understand better (according to their website) about postbaccalaureate studies and maybe they won't all get worked up into conniption fits. Well, I emailed their secretary and I'll see (and I used the phrase "conniption fits"). If it would allow me access to a prestigious graduate program, it might be the right compromise - near Riverside, but not in Riverside. Coming back to a place I like, but not going backwards. Well, I'll see how I feel about it later. Still think I'll apply to RAND for PhD in Policy and Georgetown for JD and maybe UC Davis for JD. Need to get on that stuff. I think my chances at RAND and Georgetown are both limited, so important to have back-up plan (or two, or three, or ...).

Several calculus classmates say they just want my brain for awhile, but it's a scary place in there. Too many synapses simultaneously, too many thoughts, ideas, and strange tangents. Too many damn plans.

People

Mary from Elim, the remote village in Alaska where I used to teach, just called - she's in San Diego visiting her daughter. I'll get to go see her this weekend, and it will be the cliche blast from the past. It's been five years since I was there, and a couple lifetimes ago. It will be great to see her and catch up, though tragic as well I'm sure - mortality is so high there, and all the students I had such high hopes for haven't lived up to them (or lived at all). It always breaks my heart when a wonderful child turns into a criminal adult who hurts others.

Mary and I don't keep in touch at all, but I have no doubt that it will be just like stepping back into our old friendship. It was lifetimes ago, and I'm better educated and more "civilized" now, but what I loved then I would still love. Maybe her husband Bunny will be there, too. They got together against all odds - she's a white woman in the village (she went there with her husband, but he left her) and is at least 20 years older than Bunny. (Bunny got his name when his father killed all his family; Bunny was able to run away fast enough to not be shot.) They're a very sweet couple. She rejected him a long time, but he was so persistent - ignoring everybody who spoke against it. And they do that lots. I lived through it and it's unpleasant.

I went to the clinic about my shoulder and the doctor was a hoot - he was all about me becoming a superintendent and then secretary of education for the US, and he blames Republicans for education problems (I'm usually eager to blame them, too, but I'm not sure this is a fair call). I don't know how long he's lived in the US - he's from China, and it seems most Chinese people aren't so quick to talk with strangers about politics. He was cracking me up - saying he's envious about my travels, but he can't do something like that because of his "baggage" - meaning family. I'm not sure how I'd like to be referred to as a valise. He also danced and sang around the room. The verdict? Rotator cuffs are fine (yay!), and it's probably tendonitis/bursitis. I have a hunch that it's exacerbated because I'm out of alignment - because my neck also hurts and my back is weak, so I insisted that I get a referral to the chiropractor - nice to be all aligned before leaving. He made fun of my insistence, but was happy to oblige.

And while there I finally filled my antimalarial prescription - doxycycline hyclate. I'm under-thrilled with taking it, but just yesterday on NPR I heard a doctor talking about the millions dying in Africa of malaria. So I'll take the damn stuff. We also chatted of all the other things I need, and they have over-the-counter stuff so I stocked up on the generic Neosporin, bandaids, etc.

Again, yet another reason to love the secretaries where I work - I went in and immediately they were very happy about my haircut. All of my friends I've seen, they all say, "It's different! It's short!" But nobody has said anything positive. Only person who did before today was my calculus instructor. But they all gave two thumbs up and told me why it was good. They're so great. I'm glad they don't see my negative sides and don't pick on me, dislike me, etc. I just need to be careful to keep everything positive. We are talking about me returning next year to teach the GRE course again, and that's a nice chunk of change for me. Plus, if I do it again next year, I will have already done much of the preparation this year. I spend a fair amount of time prepping for it - looking stuff up to answer students' questions, making up quizzes, etc. etc. I'll still have plenty work to do next year, but it would be easier and I could take a couple classes probably.

I really like the students in the GRE course - I'm sure some think I'm crazy or unpleasant, but they're all very well-behaved and I have some enjoyable conversations with several. Many are uncertain about their futures, what they want to do, and I like helping by sounding out ideas. I always appreciate people who are frank and candid with me; while I certainly don't expect them to follow my suggestions, it's always good to hear what others say/think. A couple think of teaching high school and I strongly encourage - especially them because they have great energy and I think would be phenomenal teachers. Plus, you do it for a few years and learn a lot, and then go back for a PhD. It's a valid route!

Jello shots in a foreign land

The jello shots were a hit, and only one of the lime-gin ones just about knocked me out. Note to self: make the day before - it mellows out the stark alcohol taste. Second note to self: use restraint in consumption.

I keep looking for foreign experiences while still here, pretending I've already embarked while still allowed the comfort of quiet, privacy, and my own bed without insects.

First party yesterday was at Lynda's with many of her husband's family and very yummy food. He has 8 siblings, all married with kids, and they all seem very nice. His mother, also in attendance, is originally from Holland - so there's my foreignness. Didn't have a chance to talk to her, but she sounds like such an interesting person. And that she was willing to try a jello shot - I think she's around 80 - speaks highly of her.

Second party, at Sabine's, with Eva's parents visiting from Germany. Their English is fine, but we often lapsed into German (even though two at the table didn't speak German - but they were good sports). Yes, I think just a week or so in Germany, if I had opportunity to be immersed in German, would be sufficient for recapturing my former fluency. Good to know. I thought it was buried deeper or lost.

After we walked out to see the fireworks (we had two displays at 90 degrees from each other) and returned, I was beat for no good reason. "Warum bin ich so muede?" I asked to the walls. Eva's father was startled, asking who had said that, saying it was "perfekt." We laughed at how he underestimated me and my German. There was a time that people did not know I was not German/Swiss (there's a faint French accent to my German, as well as a little Hungarian from a former boyfriend's mother), but that was many years ago. I always go with the easiest language - I'm happy to use German or Spanish, etc., but I won't assume others wish to speak them. I miss many practice opportunities, but I don't want to be like the Chilean woman I met in Mexico City. Her stubborn desire to practice her incomprehensible, tortured English became extremely annoying rather quickly. She sounded like an internet translation all the damn time and would get frustrated when nobody understood her. We were in Mexico, Spanish was a common language to us all, and yet she insisted on Babelfish English. I do not ever want to be like that.

Speaking of buried/lost languages, I've been thinking in Russian lately which has me a little concerned. I always swore that nothing would take me back to that god-forsaken country of backstabbing thieves and institutionalized dehumanized corruption, but it is still the land of Chekhov. If MEEWT does take me to Europe, I may be lured back there again. My many months there in 1992 nearly killed my liver, so I'd need to hang out with teetotaler Russians (hard to find, and then usually tedious at best).

Bloody titanium hell

It takes me forever to do my calculus homework because of the complexity of the TI-89 Titanium graphing calculator. For instance, how to convert from fractions to decimals? The easy way - go to my desk and get my regular, mortal calculator. But I'm stubborn and know that it's possible to easily do it on the TI-89. The product guide does not help, and all menus seem to be about other things.

Thank goodness for the internet and other users like me. This link is very helpful for figuring out these things.

The easy way? Green diamond button plus the enter key. Or, for permanent change to decimals, mode to Exact/Approx and change the setting there to approximate.

I made jello shots yesterday for the parties I attend today, and they aren't as good as I remember Jeffrie's sister-in-law's. Oh well. At least they're quick and easy to make, and practice makes better.

Lillian Hellman

Last night I finished Three by Lillian Hellman - a collection of three autobiographical works (An Unfinished Woman, Pentimento, and Scoundrel Time).

"Since when do you have to agree with people to defend them from injustice?" (p. 651) Since the McCarthyism she writes of, I know of no other time where this question is more germane than now.

She's more a kindred spirit than I had expected. I knew I'd like her, having been introduced to Pentimento by a Russian literature critic (of whom I'd become quite fond) who'd served in the Spanish Civil War. Women were braver then. No, people were. And if McCarthyism happened now, who on earth would be loyal like they were, knowing they would suffer so?

I find much of myself in her words, which is interesting. How we prefer comfort as we age, that sort of thing.

And this was very interesting to me to read. (264) "'Well,' he [Dashiell Hammett] said, 'when you start out being angry, you're almost always right. But anybody with a small amount of sense learns fast that if they let you go on talking you come around to being wrong. So after you've slammed the door, or taken a plane, or whatever caper you're up to, that fine, upright, liberal little old sense of justice begins to operate and you'll apologize not only for the nonsense part of what you've said but for the true and sensible part as well. It's an easy game -- just a matter of patience.'"

Yes, that's me, too, and I think it's been exploited.

Anyway, great books, highly recommended.

The Girl in the Cafe

Just saw The Girl in the Cafe - a made-for-HBO movie that just came out.

I highly recommend it. Not just for the aesthetics, not just for the "speak truth to power" sentiments I'm a disciple of, not just for the timeliness.

The best line: "Does it matter whose child it was?"

No, it doesn't. We all have responsibility to work to improve lives for all others - not just our own children, our own families, our own people, our own countries. Extreme poverty in the world is shocking in its brutality, and it's only a google search away from learning something about it.

And yes, we all have the responsibility for that shocking brutality.

TI-89 Titanium

The TI-89 Titanium is mine!! Woo hoo! I went to Circuit City and all the TI graphing calculators were on sale on a special yellow end display that the car accessories guy led me to. The choice was easy when I saw that this more advanced calculator was about how much I expected to pay for the TI-83+. Now I have the weekend to figure the sucker out.

And I have 30 days to return it. So, if I have buyer's remorse, it will not haunt me. AND, if I decide to study elsewhere, the prompts, functions, etc. come in French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Danish, Finnish, Norwegian, Swedish, Hungarian and Polish. In case I need to know. Cool.

"That's ok"

Leo, my neighbor to the direct downstairs, is moving out. While I don't know him well, this is nonetheless sad. He's been a good neighbor - quick-friendly when we occasionally see each other, and generally very quiet. He would not be one to tell loud partiers to disband and move away, to call the police, or to ask the neighbor children to stop vandalizing the laundry room. But I have enough assertiveness for the entire wing of the complex, so that's ok.

He has his worldly possessions spread out on the lawn; the yard sale was to begin right now but I've heard his conversations since they woke me about an hour ago. The last conversation I did not hear in entirety - he has his peculiar accent (he's returning to Brazil, his home country, but his first language - and his parents - are Indonesian; and though we didn't discuss it I'm fairly sure they're ethnic Chinese) and was speaking to a woman with what sounded like a thick Mexican accent. She said something about not having boxes, and he said, "That's ok."

The tone he used, so reassuring. Flashed back to George Hague and "I understand." No matter what indignity, injustice, or trial I was suffering, I loved little more than being able to storm into George's room, rail against it, and hear him say, "I understand." Because George would never lie, and would never agitate, so those words were perfect for all situations.

Leo lacks George's Titanic iceberg strength (most of it hidden, and humongous) - he's a passive sort. But in the "that's ok," he expressed a kindness and empathy that touches my heart. He said it's ok, and it really is. Not in a doublespeak martyrdom or a passive aggressive consequence-to-be-determined-later, but in a genuineness like fresh lemonade on a hot day.

I, too, gave my notice. A month from today I will already be in Oregon.

Yesterday we went to Santa Monica and Vidal Sassoon Academy for haircuts and color. They think I'm conservative or something, and I couldn't get them to believe I wanted it as short as all that. Which is fine; it is quite short now, and I'll have the shortest done while in Oregon. Hair is such a bother. I did make Nathan, the instructor in the "Classic Cuts" room, laugh a few times, which I'd never been able to do before. VSA is fascinating to me - I would love to do a sociological study there. And maybe, if I spent enough hours, I'd be able to determine which are prettier - the boys or the girls. We think probably the boys, but I need more time watching.

We also drove twice past the Frederick S. Pardee RAND graduate school. It's in a very lovely location in Santa Monica - near the beach, the promenade, etc. Great cafes and restaurants that are not that cookie-cutter strip mall type that pervades southern California (and probably the rest of the country). It was a lovely day and everything went right (I didn't have any idea the address of RAND, so thought I'd turn down a street just to see if it was there - and it was somehow), so perhaps that is a sign. I will be applying there. I don't honestly know my chances of admission - their admissions counselor said I was a competitive applicant, but when I look at those admitted they have far more education and experience than I. Well, I'll apply nonetheless and see.

Earlier this week Sabine's roommate Prumilla (whose name I never learned to spell or pronounce correctly) invited me over for dinner and made a whole buffet of wonderful Indian food - from samosas to dhal and khorma and other things I cannot remember. It's a pity I'm going to southern India rather than northern (she's originally from Bombay) as I much prefer northern Indian cuisine, but I will have a week to travel and enjoy the food of the north.

I also had a lovely chat with Reba earlier this week, a now former professor of mine. Her house, which I love for its character and gardens, is situated above a golf course. Her railing against the golf course's patrons was amusing mostly because I of course agree. Any place, event, or institution that is all white people instantly makes me uncomfortable. Perhaps because they think I'm one of them.

Calculus is bringing me even more pleasure than I expected - it may well be bragging to say I am getting the highest grades in the class, but blogs are for bragging at times I think. That is less important, of course, than how much fun it is. I had to return the borrowed TI-83 calculator to its owner because, well, because he's a pathetic asshole despite all my attempts to somehow represent him otherwise, and Sheila's TI-82 lacks a couple functions that are very helpful (such as finding the intersects of functions on the graph). So, I'm off this weekend to buy one of the damn things for myself. I can't decide between a TI-83 (plus) or a TI-84 or a TI-86 or a TI-89. The 86 and 89 seem like overkill, but if I do continue with math and statistics and economics, I'll probably want them later anyway and then I'll be annoyed that I spent $120 on its inferior cousin. But, the TI-83 is what the instructor uses in class, and since this is my first encounter with a graphing calculator I need that direct instruction. I'm very annoyed to spend this money, but at least it's something small to pack up when I leave.

Leaving. Yikes. Lots to do before then! Today is a day to start with those preparations again, I guess. Sigh.

No, I think instead I'll go back to Lillian Hellman. Three is a multi-volume (that would be three volumes, hence the name) autobiography - about 800 pages worth. I'm in Pentimento now, the second. It is really good - her sharp eye and ability to concisely say important things makes it easy to identify with, and thereby learn from, her. In 1993 or so, Maria Rozanova introduced me to her. Her husband, Andrei Sinyavsky (a famous dissident), was teaching a course at University of Oregon on Russian poets, and she was teaching a class on Russian Women Writers, which Lillian Hellman of course isn't. But there was a connection between the two forged through the Spanish Civil War, as well as government persecution. I found Sinyavsky difficult to understand, which may have been a result of my fear of using my shaky academic Russian, but I like Maria Rozanova a lot. She was/is spunky and loyal and honest and has/had clear vision (I don't know if she's still alive; Sinyavsky died in 1997). She had such an affection for her husband - both literary respect (she was a notable literary figure in her own right) and emotional. This may be since he was shipped off to the Gulag for some time - perhaps you appreciate things even more when they are in danger.

That's pretty much how I am with most Russians - I like the women a lot and most of the men either I cannot well communicate with or just purely despise. Russian women are, as a whole, amazingly strong and loyal and all those qualities I admire so much. That is, however, not enough to ever want to return there. Russia for me is best as a memory rather than contemporary reality.