As of today, I have four--count them, FOUR--glorious weeks of book reading freedom. No more assigned readings, no Little Darling papers, no workshop submission. Just whatever the heck I want.

Whatever. The. Heck. I. Want.

I so desperately miss "fun" reading, just curling up in a corner, or under the covers, and getting lost for hours and hours in a story and the characters and not having to worry about analyzing the craft of said story. No plot structure, no dramatic conventions, no character development. Just sheer joy. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be a pursuing a Master's in writing if I didn't enjoy picking apart stories. But sometimes I don't want to be aware that's what's going on. I want to relish just reading for the sake of reading.

I finished Feast of Crows this morning on the T. It ended much better than I had hoped in this post. George R.R. Martin managed to end on multiple major cliffhangers, and I am currently very psyched for the next installment (gimmegimmegimme!) that I can hardly wait. But alas, wait I will, and in the mean time, I have those four glorious weeks to fill up!

I'm thinking about re-attacking Neil Gaimen's American Gods. It got neglected in the melee that was my life during the semester. After that, maybe some Hemingway. I'm not, or at least I wasn't, a huge fan of Papa Hemingway. I'm well aware that he is (one of) the father(s) of the modern American novel, but he just doesn't do it for me. But that was in college... maybe things have changed? And then I've got nothing.

So... if any of you (all two of you that read this) have any suggestions, please feel free to share! I'm open to anything.

It occur ed to me today, that it is December 18th, and it has yet to snow in Boston. In fact, it is a balmy (if not slightly damp) 52 degrees outside right now.

52 degrees Fahrenheit people.

Typically, this time of year, we've had at least one sticking snow that has required me to get out the snow removal brush and clean my car, if not possibly dig out the tires a bit. But not this year. For awhile, I rejoiced in this lack of snow. I am not a fan of snow, having only recently as last year discovered a use for it (snowboarding). It's cold and wet and just ungodly uncomfortable.

Yet, I am concerned.

Apparently, we are suffering the effect of El Niño, which according to U.S. Department of Commerce National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, is "a disruption of the ocean-atmosphere system in the Tropical Pacific having important consequences for weather and climate around the globe." Now I don't know about you, but this does not sound good. Important consequences, people. Important consequences.

How many of you have seen The Day After Tomorrow? Admittedly, not the best movie ever made. Jake Gyllenhaal spends a lot of time looking broody in, what I assume, is supposed to be a nerdy know-it-all kind of way, and Emmy Rossum spends a large portion of the time being all helpless girl in distress. And lets not even get started on the title, because seriously? It's just not that great.

BUT what if this El Niño crap is leading up to a literal Day After Tomorrow? What if we're all going to wake up sometime in the near future and seriously f*cked by the weather be it ice age or tidal wave? I said it before, and I'll say it again: I don't like the cold. And I'm not a fan of the idea that the piece of land I inhabit could just slip beneath some monstrous wave like a long forgotten Atlantis...

Maybe this is Mother Nature getting back at us pesky little humans for being so virus like. Maybe this El Niño thing with its warm weather is just some big pill she's swallowed to rid herself of the sniffles.

Either way, I wish it would snow.

DONE.

Now all I have to do is calculate the grades, which delightful IT Allison is going help me set-up the formula on WebCT for so I'm pretty much done.

Done at last, thank God almighty, I'm done at last!

I have decided that I am not a fan of grading. Aside from the obscene amount of time that it takes up (roughly 30-45 minutes PER PAPER x 13 papers=6.5 to 9.75 hours of my Saturday) but I don't like assigning a value to the work. It's such an ass backwards system, instead of praising the Little Darlings for the positive aspects of their papers/portfolios, every rubric that I've ever come across merely points out the negative, using words like "lacks" and "fails to." My least favorite category/comment: Reasons this paper received a failing grade--failure to meet paper length requirement. I hate this category. HATE. I despise the fact that a piece of work has to have a limit, and that students write for that limit rather than quality of their argument.

And to top it off, I'm asked to fill out this year long evaluation with goals for next year. I'm trying my damnedest to come up with something positive to pair with the goals, because then they beg you to say, albeit nicely, "well, you really sucked at this, so keep on working on that."

*sigh* I think I'm just pissed I have to do this today. And grade their finals... which is like another 2 hours of a perfectly gorgeous day eaten up.

I've read all of George R.R. Martin's Song of Fire and Ice books thus far. In fact, I read A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, and A Storm of Swords in three days they were that riveting.

That's a total of 3,120 pages, people. Three thousand, one hundred and twenty pages.

I picked up these books as my Return to Fantasy books. I had read a LOT of fantasy (and Sci-Fi) as a kid, C.S. Lewis, Piers Anthony, Anne McCaffrey, Asimov, various comic books, some Conan the Barbarian, the list is quiet inexhaustible and I loved every single one of them. I was not an outgoing child, preferring to spend most of my time either with my nose in a book or out running around the woods. I didn't make friends easily, was PAINFULLY shy, pretty smart in school (which is a stigma for kids in middle school, and to a lesser degree high school, for some reason), not athletically gifted, and completely not cute or pretty in that oh-so-awkward way--all skinny arms, knobby knees, a nose that my face had yet to grow into, and incredibly bad hair.

And on and on and on. Books were, and still are, some of the most reliable friends that I had.

But, for some strange reason when I entered college, I switched to reading high brow fiction and non-fiction. I traded my old friends in for new, academically prescribed friends. Sure, I'd pick up an old favorite now and again, but only during the summers when I "had time off" to read "fun stuff." But I saw less and less of these make believe worlds and more and more of stories grounded in reality.

And then, this semester, I decided I had enough. I've discovered in the course of my MFA studies that writers take themselves, and other writers way too seriously. If the book isn't on some magical list somewhere, and at the top of that list, then we scorn it. We turn up our collective nose and sniff.

We need fantasy people, be it on some fictional as-yet discovered moon or some fictitious realm, or (shudder) some rent-controlled apartment in the East Village, we NEED it. We need to stretch our imaginations, to not look so diligently for hard facts, to wander away from the stress of every day life (as cheesy as it sounds) and fiction, whatever genre it be, at $7.99 per paperback it is one of the cheapest highs one can get.

I'd like to digress here (again) and rant about other forms of fiction/fiction in general.

I'm not a fan of chick-lit, lets just throw that out there now. I find it to be patriarchy reinforced dribble: every single woman in these kind of stories is only whole/complete/fulfilled when she has found the prefect man/job (which is usually in some smarmy field like pediatrician, or fashion editor, or reformed social lite...PLAYER PLEASE!). I like some crime, but not a lot. I like some horror (Stephen King, Anne Rice) but not a lot. I'm not a fan of bodice rippers. I like realistic fiction--I love, for example, Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper, and Mystic River. And Memoirs of a Geisha rates on my Top 10 All Time Favorites list. Any book, if written well, is worth stopping and experiencing. However, I feel as though there is a plethora of crappy ass fiction out there that continually makes people money and I just don't get it. Take Candice Bushnel for example. She wrote a crappy ass book, it got made into a crappy ass T.V. show (note to reader: I have only recently, come to despise this show. It encourages women to be every single negative stereotype you can imagine. If they all didn't end up with men, for example, would they still be fulfilled females? According to SITC, nope.) AND wrote another crappy ass book aimed at her shifting demographic--after all the 30-somethings that loved SITC are now entering their 40s. Seriously, she' s only getting published on the merit of her name. Sometimes, I feel that the less talent you have, the more likely the public will eat you up. Not literally eat you up, of course, because then that would make us ookie cannibals. You know what I mean. But the point is, Bushnel's books, and others like her, are what the market buys. So, if I, an aspiring writer, am faced with a dilemma: either write the types of fiction that I love or write the fiction that sells.

But I digress. Back to Feast of Crows. I'm about 75% of the way through this book, and it's a HUGE book. And I'm not impressed. Sure, the story picks up where the last one left off, but I feel as though George R.R. spends a lot of time moving his characters through minimal amount of space and drama. For example, every time Queen Cersie pops up, the reader gets a tiny more information about her growing paranoia (and, incidentally, middle section), alcoholism, etc. All fascinating stuff, but continually retold the same way just in slightly different scenes. Every time we see Brienne, the Maid of Tarth, Martin is sure to let us know that she's big and ugly and loyal, like some big and ugly and loyal Great Dane. Jaime's storyline continually reminds us that, with the loss of his hand, he's struggling with his identity. I'd like to point out, by and large the charater development is amazing, and, having done my research before hand, I know that George R.R. Martin bit off more than he could chew with Feast of Crows and thus had to split it into two books, but seriously, do we need 20-some chapters about Cersie's descent into madness? I've started to skip over them.

Furthermore, my most beloved characters (Jon, Arya--though she's in FOC a little bit, Daynaeres, Tyrion, Lady Catelyn) aren't in the book at all. I feel severely cheated in that respect. I liked the multiple character feel of the preceding books, Martin has a real knack for switching between voice/tone and place yet retaining his narrative authority, but FOC focuses mainly on one place, and, as a result, is incredibly boring. Too many minor and not enough major characters are given playing time.

I'd like to conclude by saying George R.R. Martin is a MASTER at what he does and I have the utmost respect for him. Juggling multiple characters, plot lines, details, settings, etc. is not an easy task and I am humbled every time I read a chapter, paragraph, sentence. His characters are flawed and tortured, they love, they fight, they scheme. Martin is, and this book is, amazing. Just maybe not as amazing as the others. It has, after all, taken me nearly two weeks to get as far as I have...

Over all Grade: B-

The final countdown has commenced. Officially, as of 9:45 a.m. today, I only have three more classes of my first year as a freshman composition instructor left. Equal parts sad and happy, I'm heartened by the quality of the Little Darlings' work. I handed back essay #4 today, which centered around racism/prejudice and oppression, and was incredibly impressed. It's amazing to see how much work they did on this paper, and where they started off and where they're at now.

I almost feel like a real teacher.

So Team HOT when to Good Times--perhaps the most awesome place in all of MA--in Somerville last night and had a blast. Laser tag, go cart racing, games, drinks... the whole nine yards. More interestingly, I observed some odd human behaviour.

So Team HOT had two impromptu couples that formed during the season, we'll call them Kenny and Kara, and Elliot and Dara. Both relationships disintegrated by the last game. Kara went back to her ex-boyfriend, and Dara felt that Elliot was getting too serious. Now, let it be known I adore both of these girls. They're friends of mine.

I watched as Kara continued to flirt with Kenny, touching his arm, giggling, feeding him fries. Dara was a little less flirty, but I think that had more to do with the fact that Elliot avoided her all night (they had an interesting break-up--Dara got too drunk to play in our last game and proceeded to drunkenly flirt with anything with a penis. Elliot decided he wanted none of that and broke up with her the next day). Both the boys were more fun than they've been in awhile, actually hanging out with the rest of us. Admittedly, I like the attention that comes from hanging with the boys so... yeah.

At the very end of the night, Kara pulled Kenny aside and asked, "Are we cool?" She placed a hand on his arm, looking up at him all cute and beseechingly.

Kenny looks at her, looks at the hand on his arm and pulls away. "Yeah, we're cool," he says.

"Good," says Kara, flashing him a big smile that I'm sure melted his heart to begin with. "Cause when you get back from _______I'm going to hound you to hang out." And she walks away.

Now, Kara and I were talking later and she confesses that she hasn't told anyone that she and her ex are back together and she kind of likes the attention that she gets from the boys because they think she's still single. I thought this equally odd and unfair. I do not think that it's fair that she is, sorta, hoping that Kenny will continue to moon after her. Girls like this frustrate the shit out of me. Some of us are capable of hanging out with the opposite sex and not trying to make them lust after us. Some of us actually have really close friends that are the opposite sex and know how these kind of people, like Kara and to a lesser degree Dara, can really fuck with a person's head and heart. It's not fair. It makes me just want to smack their heads up against a brick wall.

Later, as Kenny, a few friends of ours and I walked towards the car someone brought up what Kara had said. Kenny was like "It's bullshit if she thinks I'm going to hang out with her like we did before. She made her choice." So at least he knows what's going on.

In other news... the boy that I have a crush on continues to be super cute. We walked home from Sunday Sports together today and had a real conversation. I think this is less to do with the fact that I have a crush on him (and secretly hope that he has one on me) and more with the fact that we've played on the same soccer team, we've taken a class together, and watched football together. *sigh* I have a feeling I've relegated myself to the role of girl (space) friend. But whatever. If this stupid crush thing means that I end up with a good friend out of the whole (imagined) drama, then I'm happier for it.

Still... I bet he's a great kisser.

So I left my cell phone at work yesterday and didn't notice until about 7:30 p.m. at night--about the time my sister should have been texting me to let me know her plane got in ok. I searched high and low for it, tore apart my work bag, my room, even the kitchen looking for it. No dice. It then occurred to me that the last place I saw it was on my desk at work. So I'm really hoping I can get in there this morning and grab it because, I feel naked without it. I feel cut off--like I'm snuggled away in some remote forest area that doesn't get reception. I keep thinking, what if someone called me--which they didn't, cause they never do--or worse yet, what if I need to call someone?!!

Technology is strange that way. We've become so dependant on it that it's ridiculous. Going 12 hours without a cell phone or computer or T.V. should not make one feel like a limb is missing. There are other more important things to worry about in this world. Like what the heck am I going to get my sister for Christmas?

I think its incredibly important to have a day to yourself. Not a day that you spend catching up on all the little stupid things that haven't gotten done cause life got in the way. Oh no. Just a Do Nothing Day. It lets our brains and bodies breathe... or vegetate if that's the case. And I think vegetating is good too... why must everything always be "go, go, go?" Why is it that we spend 99% of our lives always trying to get ahead and not just enjoying the here and now? Why wait until we're old and gray and life and opportunity has passed us by and all we can do is sit and say "Only if..."

But I digress. More than likely, all I'm trying to do is justify the fact that I am lazy and I spent a large portion of my day on my ass, "vegetating" because it's what my brain/body does when given the opportunity... but I digress.

Today was that day. I slept in, did FUN reading, (re)hung Christmas lights (what? I think they're pretty and they were bugging me because they didn't fit around the windowsill correctly. So I have anal-retentive tendencies--sue me), watched some crap T.V. and am taking a shower and heading out with some friends to celebrate their thesis defenses. Added bonus: the guy I'm crushing on will most likely be there! (blush)

SPEAKING OF...

He waited for me after class the other day. Boo-ya! It was kinda sweet. He was so ready to leave before I was, but kinda dawdled, walked slowly down the hall, hands in pockets, until I caught up. Now, because I do have the mindset of a fifteen year old girl (see this post) I'm probably making one of those proverbial mountains out of a mole-hill but whatever dude. Even if it is nothing more than a harmless crush, its a crush on a person that I'll still be friends with when it's faded. So there.

*Sigh* I love today.

This is an email I recieved from a student. As of late (really since mid-semester) I've been feeling like they hate me and that I am an ineffectual teacher. This gave me a glimmer of hope as this particular student is not one of the stronger writers in class, but has definitely continued to try real hard and, as a result, her writing has improved by leaps and bounds.

That sounds really interesting. I'm not that great at research writing in general and I don't know much about technological stuff but I would really love to have you as my teacher again. I just changed my schedule and I am officially in your class :). Thanks for getting back to me so soon I really appreciate it!
Thanks again,
Sasha

Team HOT won!

It was a dark and stormy night (no, seriously, it was dark and stormy. The rain literally fell sideways due to the wind)and team hot was down two players--one was reading in the Graduate Series, the other too inebriated to play. The yellow team took the field and the semi-final battle commenced. They put up a good fight, and scored first. But Team HOT wasn't going to merely lay down and die, oh no. We fought hard, scored a game-tying goal, thus necessitating a penalty kick shoot out. Our goalie held up under pressure, and we won the game with four penalty kicks to their three.

The final game was a little less climatic. The team we played was down a member, but still amazing players (rumor was a majority of them had played college ball). But they couldn't score on us, and we managed to eek on by them. So we're BSSC Champs!


In other news, remember this prediciment? There's this boy that I have a crush on, (cause, you know, I'm really a 15 year old at heart) and he was seeing this girl that I've become friends with. Well, no more! She went back to her ex-boyfriend, thus freeing up Mr. Harlequin Romance. Now, I'm a realist and I know that doesn't necessarily mean I have a snow ball chance in hell, BUT doesn't mean I'm not going to hope (and maybe even try). Besides, he's been kinda flirty as of late. Last night, for example,we walked part of the way home together and I was (drunkenly) blabbering about going out with my friend on Saturday and he said, "Well, you guys should give us a call and maybe we'll meet up with you."

So we shall see...

I think my brain cells are rebelling against the end of the semester, committing suicide even. And as they die by the hundred--nee, THOUSANDS--I am reduced a blushing 15 year old girl. And a geeky one at that--probably one that has braces and glasses.

I've become, after watching ONE EPISODE, obsessed with Supernatural. More specifically, I have become obsessed with Jensen Ackles. I remember him as Eric Brady (Sami Brady's good twin brother) from the soap opera Days of Our Lives and I remember thinking that this muscular-yet-gawky kid was good looking, but just eh.

Apparently he's been eating his Wheaties and drinkin' his milk cause it does a body good! I mean seriously, look at him. I think it's the angsty broodiness of his character that gets me--it always gets me (i.e. Angel and Spike from Buffy The Vampire Slayer ). Plus, he's so sensitive... well, ok, his CHARACTER is so sensitive. Seriously, if guys really want to know what women want, put down the Cosmo and watch the TV. We want Clark Kent, we want McDreamy (and sometimes even McSteamy), we want the Winchester Brothers, hell, we Uncle Jesse in his new ER role!

The show, Supernatural, is actually pretty damn good. I don't foresee it winning any awards anytime soon (or maybe at all, as most sci-fi/horror shows--see the aforementioned BtVS--don't receive recognition of that sort) but it's got some pretty complex themes it address aside from the good vs. evil thing. Like family--the brothers are chasing after all these bads because one killed their mother, and I gather, girlfriend. It's about search for identity--the younger brother shunned his family legacy (demon hunting) for a college education but now realizes that might not work. And, from what I gathered, it's been dealing with issues of grief (I won't tell you why, watch it yourself!). So good show... hope it lasts!

But back to why I'm a 15 year old, and in defense of the 15 year old in all of us. I think it's good to day dream and fantasize. It allows us a mental escape from the humdrum of pedestrian life. It used to be the novel (and hopefully, for sake of my livelihood, will continue to be so), then silent movies, then talkies, and eventually TV. I'll admit it, I love TV. I don't get to watch a lot, I'm too busy, but I have a designated TV day. I need a designated TV day. I need something that I can do that doesn't involve school, work, or any sort of stress. I need to escape from my reality, which sucks some of the time, and by gum, if that non-reality includes a pretty face, hunky body and pseudo-emotions, I'm all for it.

Plus, I acknowledge in real life, I will never be Mrs. Jensen Ackles (seriously) but it doesn't mean I can't doodle his name on all my notebooks.