My soundtrack of plagiarism

I was reading my friend B's blog (http://heartofperseverancecharacterhope.blogspot.com/ - check it out) and marveling at her consistency, in posting and in being entertaining.

Jealously, I want my blog to be as awesome as hers is. So this is me blatantly stealing an idea.

This song has been stuck in my head for days. I will now share it with you. You're welcome.

Friends Happen

For the past few days my friends - Amanda, Nathan, and my fairygodchild Ransom - have been visiting me in Milwaukee. Amanda is an avid Facebooker and has been tracking our adventures in her status updates and photographs. This led to my mother commenting, "Amanda really makes Milwaukee seem more glamourous than you do."

She's right. I do need to be more aware of the cooler aspects of Milwaukee. I need to be more aware of what I share about my time in Milwaukee and be sure to not just focus on the negative aspects. There are some real Milwaukee positives - a few of which we've done this week.

Kopp's Custard - it's a dangerously delicious place. We've gone twice this week. So far.

Sprecher's Brewery - We toured the brewery then spent a great deal of time drinking several different kinds of soda. Beer is over-rated. Bring on the gourmet soda pop beverages!

Milwaukee Public Market - Nathan and Amanda had deep-fried cheese curds for the first time. What a Milwaukee thing to do. We also bought delicious bread.

Did you know there's a lake here? It's a pretty big one. It's a pretty big deal. We saw it. We put our toes in it. We shivered.

Thus ends this blog post. (Must go spend more time with the peeps before they leave tomorrow.)

Grad Food

When talking to grad students, the subject of food tends to come up frequently.

It's an excuse for socializing if we want to go out. "It's ok to leave homework and go to dinner - you have to eat sometime."

It is a motivator. "Hey, there's a lecture next week - not my favorite topic, but there'll be bagels."

It's a matter of pride, "I haven't been grocery shopping in two months." or "Yep, twenty dollars a month is my food budget. Are you going to eat that packet of hot sauce?"

As you know, my car has died. This has required me to start thinking more purposefully about meal planning. Unsurprisingly, the cheapest way to cook is to buy a lot of the same thing and eat it continually. Different grad students have different ways of exploiting this method. Some buy a lot of alcohol and drink it continually. Frequently, pasta becomes a staple. One friend was explaining this by informing everyone how much he loved Italian food.

Now, I have no quibbles with people who love Italian food. It's quite delicious. But this purposeful planning has resulted in checking of my cupboards. What exists are several indications that Italian is not my cuisine of choice.

1. There's no pasta. Now, maybe I'm one of those dedicated people that makes my own pasta (I'm not) but there is no semolina flour either, so the chances of that are rather slim.

B. There are, however, three or four types of rice - and I know how and in what I would use each type.

C. There is nothing tomato-based. Except for two different kinds of ketchup. What, your brother doesn't give you ketchup as a going-away present?

4. The only basil is Thai Basil - I have some dried and some frozen - for emergencies. 

In conclusion, a good romp through cupboards can reveal things about yourself that you had never vocalized. I've laughed in the past with fellow students about the vast amounts of pasta consumed, and the fact that pizza is basically a perfect food, but now I realize that my allegiances fall elsewhere. I'll have to think about how to leverage that into a declaration of my inherent superiority . . . this could take some time . . .

P.S. - this post brought to you by the suspicion that people are tired of hearing all the time about the fact that I do homework, go to class, and think about teaching.

Walking out of the theater this morning, one of my friends remarked, "I never thought I'd be saying this, but that movie needed more robot and monster fights."

It's weird to be halfway through a semester already. Six week classes are the way to go. Now if I can only keep that in mind when I'm sitting in the same classroom for hours at a time . . .

Both of my classes are delightful. I feel as though I'm learning valuable things in both of them (a Marquette first). I have the same professor for both and his strong focus on pedagogy and the development of field knowledge is serving to strengthen me as a scholar and teacher.

The heat is terrible. Someday I will no longer be a grad student. Perhaps when that day comes I will have air conditioning. For now, survival involves copious amounts of water, fans, and cold baths.

Studying for the MA exam continues. I'm reading Middlemarch, which is one of those books that I've known for years that I should read, but could never muster up the necessary enthusiasm. Enthusiasm is still lacking, but the reading is finally taking place.

This post feels as though it's not very entertaining. My apologies. For those of you who are wondering, my car has bitten the dust. It's not worth pouring more money into something so old and decrepit (an argument not to be extended beyond inanimate objects) so it will soon vanish from my parking spot. The plan, dictated by financial necessities, is to not replace it right away. My Milwaukee freedom will be curtailed, but perhaps that will only benefit my studies.

Back in Milwaukee

I've been back in Milwaukee for a week now. Perhaps at some point I'll post something about my weeks at Barakel.

This week of school flew by. Lots of reading. Not very much homework besides that. I'm preparing for a presentation on Tuesday and will be signing up on Monday for three teaching lessons in the other class.

My car started thunking between Ann Arbor and Jackson so I took it to visit its favorite Jackson-based auto repair shop. An old man popped up from behind a truck and started trying to make jokes. I was not in a proper frame of mind for jokes so did not give him the proper laughing response that he was looking for.

He then hopped in my car and drove it for about two minutes. He got out. He looked at me. I have a wheel bearing going out. I asked him what I should do. He shrugged his shoulders at me and said, "Drive it."

So, I drove it. It was a very tense journey. I kept waiting for my wheel to fall off or stop turning and leave me stranded by the side of the road. I hated Chicago more than usual.

But I made it. This story is basically a very long segue way into a confession that I'm not in church this morning. My car is going to the shop tomorrow and I'm not driving it any more than absolutely necessary. Instead, I've curled up with coffee, cat, and a sermon by Dan Cummings.

I haven't listened to Pastor Dan since he died. So far it's involved a few tears. He read Shel Silverstein. I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that I love Shel Silverstein.