Saying Goodbye

I'm going to break down my Hollins semester in more detail when I get back home, but, before our sleepover begins in earnest, I wanted to recount a few of the highlights of the day:

We hiked up to the top of Sharp Top Mountain this afternoon, and, on the way, we encountered this very tame doe (which we named July).  Robin has the pictures of him licking my arm.

We made it up to the top.  When we saw the mountain later from the Parkway it was amazing to think we had climbed all the way to the summit.  Michelle and Robin held up admirably, and I'm sure I've instilled a life-long love of hiking mountains in them. :-)  Or maybe not.

It was a beautiful, perfect conclusion to this experience.

So, until I return home, valete!

I'm Alive!

Yes, I am alive.  I took a week hiatus, not out of desire, but out of necessity.  You see, I've been a little busy.  Let me recount the past few days:

Saturday:  Got up at the crack of dawn, sang a little, read a lot, and basked in some warm fuzzies.  The conference was wonderful and I enjoyed reading my paper to an audience (I even did the voices!).  All of that excitement eventually died down and I spent the last four or five hours working on a Roman history timeline.  I think I went to bed around 4AM or something ridiculous.

Sunday:  Got up and worked on my Roman picture book from around 9AM until 3AM.  I'm serious.  I sat on a stool for over eight hours just manipulating stuff on Word.  Then I had to go back to my room and manipulate the same stuff one more time.  While watching Gladiator for inspiration.

Monday:  Got up early again and had to go to Kinko's to print everything off.  Had some issues but Robin kept me calm.  I finished everything for my picture book about 5 minutes before class began.  Presented said book in class, got positive feedback and then went home to read all my classmates' stories for workshop the next day.  Also typed up guidebook for next year's entertainment chairs. 

Tuesday:  Woke up early, wrote 6-7 pages of a new picture book I'm working on, helped out with a picture book workshop, met with resident scholar Philip Nel and had my head deflated a little, and then did a fast and furious critique before class that night.  Came home from class and crashed.  After reading another three stories and making comments.

Wednesday:   Again, woke up earlier than I would have liked, did the rest of my critiques, went to last picture books class and then came home and did revisions all night.  

Thursday:  Got up, met with my picture books professor to get one more book signed and then went for an extensive walk around campus to get pictures and reflect on my 2008 experience.  Went to my last meeting as a committee chairperson and then did another couple hours of story revision.  Went to class.  

And then I was done.  Finally.

I'm not kidding when I say that I haven't worked this hard in a while.  Which is hilarious to me because I spend an extraordinary amount of time doing my job during the school year, but this gig takes the cake.  That Roman picture book alone took around 30 hours (maybe more) to complete.  

But I survived, and I received great marks for my efforts.  And now I have nothing to worry about anymore.  However, I don't feel weird about it like I did last year.  This year I'm just relieved.  I'm so thankful that tomorrow I get to go hiking with my friends, eat some good food, reminisce a little and then have a final sleepover before I embark for Bryan and home on Saturday.  

I really need a break over the next few days.  I'm sure I'll be itching to be back in the classroom by Wednesday, but, for right now, I just want to bask in the glory that is another semester of graduate school in the bag.

Tomorrow

We're (of course I mean Robin, Michelle and myself) watching The Outsiders downstairs and I'm avoiding looking at the PowerPoint that is supposed to go with my presentation tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will do my first public reading of my critical work. I'm actually not that nervous; teaching has cured me of stage fright.  However, I do want to say all the words correctly and give some emphasis to my argument.  I want people to be interested more than anything, and these critical essays are real hit or miss.  Last year I was able to understand a few of them, but others were a little too obtuse without having the paper right in front of you to follow along.  

Today, I really faced the reality that as much I sometimes feel stressed and overwhelmed by my responsibilities, there are people out there that are way harder on themselves and are even more stressed than I am.  After a few conversations with some of my classmates, I'm starting to feel like I'm one of the more relaxed people here.  Bizarre.

But I mostly can thank Robin and Michelle for that.  They have been my salvation during these past 5 weeks, and I am very fortunate to have met such wonderful women.  Only a week left, but I will try to make the most of it.

Brain Dead

It's very hard to blog right now because my life is consumed by a picture book. And that, well, that's just boring.

Some computer savvy person would probably scoff at my angst over having to create a 32-page text, but it's pain-staking, and I don't think about much else these days.

Well, I do think about getting through Saturday (Seussical performance and critical paper reading), and then I think about Monday afternoon when this beast will be done. And knowing that when I eat dinner on Monday that I will be done, well, that's a very nice thought.

I'll have a few things left to work out, but it will be a piece of cake compared to this past week of photoshopping and photo studioing and photo illustrating. Ugh.

On a random note, I am pretty mad at my state legislature for threatening to raise our co-pays on our medical plan because they are seriously lacking in the forward planning department. I get paid so little for what I do--do I really need to pay $50 to go see a dermatologist? Or $35 to get a drug that I need every month? And they dropped our raise from 6% to 3%. Economic downturns are like dominoes, everything is touched somewhere in the process and no one can get back up again once that first piece falls.

On a happier note, I have discovered a nice little diversion. Joss Whedon's new web show, Dr. Horrible. It's hilarious and comes at a time when I need a little fun injected into my day. Plus I love Nathan Fillion from his days on Firefly. And I love Joss Whedon's writing. And even Neil Patrick Harris has gotten cooler with age after his stints in the Harold and Kumar movies. It's only available until July 20th at www.drhorrible.com, so go check it out quick if you're interested in having a laugh.

But now, Q calls, and I must return to picture book land. Sigh.

Mountain Paradise

My camera is battery-less right now, so I can't post pictures yet of my lovely weekend with Bryan, but just imagine a mountainous landscape, a well-constructed camp site, and two very well fed spouses.  

It was relaxing and perfect and fulfilling in a way that nothing in my professional life can top.  I would like to say it re-energized me for my last two weeks here, but...

that would be a little bit of a lie.

However, I'm making progress, and I have a timeline in my head that keeps me going.  Get to Saturday and this will be over. Make it to Monday and that other thing will be over.  And in 11 days, I will get to pack up my stuff and return home.  

I really do appreciate all that I am learning here, but it is unnatural to be this removed from daily life.  I try to create a routine with my classes and gym visits and conference duties, but it never quite matches the satisfaction I get from my husband, my career and my little life in Raleigh.  

But I do believe that it is good for me to push myself in this way because I doubt I ever take much time when I'm in Raleigh to reflect on how good I have it.  How much joy Bryan brings to my life.  Or how grateful I am for my students and the unique challenges my job affords me.  

And how wonderful it is to be able to go to bed and not worry that some beetle is going to make a home in your hair while you catch some Z's.

Woo-hoo!

Hi Michele!

Congrats, your submission "A Familiar Quest" was chosen to be read at the conference. Please email an electronic file of your submission to Ellen and Leslie (see address in CC of this email) by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow (Saturday).

Also, please time your piece by reading it out loud to someone and send me the time by noon on Tuesday. Please do not guess or estimate your time. Reading it out loud and having an accurate time is necessary for conference planning.

Thank you and Congratulations!
Stephanie

Well, that kind of makes the 7+ hours I spent revising my submissions worth it. :-)

One More Day

I am feeling better.   My ears still feel "moist," so I will be avoiding the pool today but I think I'll make it through the last two weeks.  On Tuesday night, I went to bed at midnight (quite an accomplishment for me) and then last night I went to bed at 4AM again.  Sigh.  

Right now my life is occupied with the looming academic conference and getting my dummy started for my picture books class.  I need to finalize what I will sending as submissions to the conference reading committee and I have four rehearsals to run/attend before next Saturday.  In addition, I have roughly a week and a half to get my picture book in shape, so I'm trying to pace myself a little so if I stay up until 5AM it won't be because I HAVE to.

Mostly my mind is fixated on seeing Bryan tomorrow.  This will be the first time we have more than 24 hours to see each other and we've never gone camping while I was here, so it will be a new experience in many respects.  Being with Bryan makes me feel so normal.  I have a tendency to get so invested in everything I do, and he is the only one who can pull me out of the trance-like state I find myself in sometimes.  I cannot imagine what it would be like to be here for 6 weeks and never see him.  

Since I can't swim, I'm going to go on a bike ride this morning. Here is a snippet from an adapted version of the first chapter of my novel:

So I went to a place called Hair Champs to get my hair dyed. I’m not a high maintenance gal so the implications of attending a $7.99 haircut place for a major cosmetic transformation did not occur to me. I walked in with a purpose—I knew the colors and had a picture of the cut I wanted. However, I ended up with an artiste.  

“Can I help you?” a foreign-looking woman behind the counter had asked. She had enormous breasts. I’m sorry, but that was the first thing I noticed about her. Her v-neck blouse gave me an eyeful as I walked up to the counter. And just to clarify, I am not gay. My mom thought I was for a while, but that’s a different story.

“Um, I want to get my hair cut and colored,” I said, holding the picture up for her to see.

“Well,” she began in an accent that I recognized as Russian-esque, “I think we can do something for you; you will like.” She began to lead me to a station on the right side of the room.

“I want this,” I said again, jabbing my finger at the photograph of Ashlee Simpson that I had clipped from my mom’s copy of InStyle magazine. I walked over to her station and saw that it was very minimalist with a few hair products and that jar of blue gel they put combs in scattered across the counter. My eyes were mostly drawn towards the picture of a young blond girl doing a split taped to the mirror.

Her eyes registered what I was looking at. “Oh, that’s my daughter, Alexa. She’s cheerleader. Very good. She is even on All-Star team.”

“That’s…great,” I said, with an over-the-top smile. “By the way, what was your name again?” Her blouse didn’t have enough material to put a nametag on, obviously.

“It’s Elly, short for Elvira.” Elvira? The Mistress of the Dark? I just couldn’t believe how much sense that made. Big breasts. Big hair. I had a celebrity impersonator for a hairdresser.

“Wow, that’s unusual,” I said, lifting my jaw up from the floor.

“Very common in Russia,” she said while she brushed stray hairs from the chair in front of me.

“So, what do you think of my plan?” I asked, gesturing back to the photograph.

“Yes, yes, but I will make it work with your head. It is, how do you say, squatty.”

“My head is squatty,” I repeated as I looked at myself in her mirror. While I contemplated my head shape, I heard the chatter of the hairdressers behind me. Apparently they had all taken the same boat over here because I heard an inordinate amount of v-sounds. I felt like I was in the cockpit of Air Force One in that Harrison Ford movie.

“Let me take better look,” she said as she grabbed my shoulders and shoved me into the black vinyl seat. “Yes, mm-hmm, I know what we will do. What colors did you want it to be?”

“Well, I want it be black …” I began but I became distracted by her long red fingernails combing my scalp. I think she was testing the weight of my hair, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel like my head was getting raked like a big pile of fall leaves. I slouched a little in the chair to distance myself from her claws and finished, “With blue stripes somewhere towards the front.”

“Black and blue?” She chuckled a little; the American expression was apparently not foreign to her.

“Yeah, just call me a Duke fan, I guess,” I said with a guffaw. She stopped laughing and just stared at me in the mirror with a look of confusion on her face.