mimsy and outgrabe

We survived!  That's kind of how it felt to present, even though the woman who put together the panel was lovely and kind and relaxed and my fellow panelists were interesting and also kind and chill  . . . but the guidelines for writing our conference paper and the rules about presenting at SECAC were rigid and fairly antithetical to the spirit of the conference, which is celebratory and joyful and emphasizes fun in art.  My writing looks like a middle-schooler's M. and I read our paper last, after two presentations that were several degrees less formal, but I think it was received well and that we've come out of this experience with a paper we can submit for publication somewhere. That's a first for me -- I've published primarily poetry but no academic papers since being at Stuffolk, so this is a new adventure of sorts. An adventure for dorks, if you will -- but an adventure nonetheless. This morning I'm attending a panel on punk rock and how it

Columbus is so much more glamorous than I could ever be, you guys. What is it with this place? So much art, beautiful streets with eclectic little stores, amazing food. Just amazing. Are you hungry? Get thee to Columbus. Also they have umpteen breweries around which is making A. very happy, but even he admits that the food trumps the beer in this magical little city. The line for this place was crazy long. I mean, have I left the conference strip? No. Do I have any real sense of the true Columbus, OH? Absolutely not. But these few city blocks have been really, really good to me. Oh yeah, and the art conference! SECAC is a pretty low-key, feel-good, celebratory event so far. Really cool panel topics and presenters, with very welcoming and friendly attendees, so my imposter syndrome is dissipating somewhat. It may rage back in full form when I enter the room where M. and I are presenting later this morning, but for now, I'm finding it a pretty cool experience to be

This week was chock full of incidents that have made me seethe with anger and defensiveness and resentment and then, ultimately, just kind of sink back into a weird sort of ambivalence about other people, because ultimately, there's not a damn thing I can do about the way they are going to act.  Also, anger and defensiveness and resentment is exhausting. Also, I do not have time for that shit.  The small-child's worth of grading has been (finally) organized and I'm slowly but surely turning it into the size of, oh, a smaller child. It's still pretty damn big. But at least I'm making progress, and there's the chance that by the end of the weekend I *might* have a small-child's worth of graded assignments to hand back.  That would be awesome, wouldn't it? Just let me dream, haters. Today I'm going to soccer games, the dentist, and a wedding. WHAT IS MY LIFE. Tomorrow I'm participating in a Making Strides walk at the college.

I wish I could say I have exciting news or profound thoughts about writing or teaching but I've hit that mid-semester wall of grading and deadlines for various things (sabbatical application, paper for conference) and it's just been a bit of a grind lately. I had to put my books and my writing aside for the moment because every morning I'm getting up early to do damage control. It's not great. Today I have two meetings in the morning and then I intend to divide my time between that Very Important For My Professional and Personal Sanity Sabbatical Application and the 30 lbs of grading I have stacked in a tote in my living room. That's right -- I have a small-child's worth of grading to do this weekend. The worst thing is that some of it IS graded but has to be entered into my online grade books in Blackboard, and everything is so jumbled together from being carted between classroom and office and home repeatedly that it will take at least an hour to make sen